When a deadly traitor threatens to dishonor a top-secret agency, A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY begins….

Seth Greene

Green eyes, lean muscles—

irresistibly good-looking

His efforts to single-handedly capture Simon

brought Seth home to the wife he’d left—the child

he had fathered. The family he longed to finally

claim as his own. If only he could…

Meghan Greene

A brainy beauty in danger of falling in love with

her ex-husband…

Because he needed her help, Meghan let the

husband who had broken her heart into her home

once more. Now she wondered if she would be

able to deny anything to the man she’d once given

herself so passionately to….

“Simon”

Luck had been on his side so far, but desperation

might be this deadly traitor’s undoing….

With money as his prime motivator,

Simon set about closing a deal that would give

him the cash he needed to complete his evil

mission. Would nothing stop him now?

Dear Reader,

The year is ending, and as a special holiday gift to you, we’re starting off with a 3-in-1 volume that will have you on the edge of your seat. Special Report, by Merline Lovelace, Maggie Price and Debra Cowan, features three connected stories about a plane hijacking and the three couples who find love in such decidedly unusual circumstances. Read it—you won’t be sorry.

A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY continues with Carla Cassidy’s Strangers When We Married, a reunion romance with an irresistible baby and a couple who, I know you’ll agree, truly do belong together. Then spend 36 HOURS with Doreen Roberts and A Very…Pregnant New Year’s. This is one family feud that’s about to end…at the altar!

Virginia Kantra’s back with Mad Dog and Annie, a book that’s every bit as fascinating as its title—which just happens to be one of my all-time favorite titles. I guarantee you’ll enjoy reading about this perfect (though they don’t know it yet) pair. Linda Randall Wisdom is back with Mirror, Mirror, a good twin/bad twin story with some truly unexpected twists—and a fabulous hero. Finally, read about a woman who has Everything But a Husband in Karen Templeton’s newest—and keep the tissue box nearby, because your emotions will really be engaged.

And, of course, be sure to come back next month for six more of the most exciting romances around—right here in Silhouette Intimate Moments.

Enjoy!

Leslie J. Wainger

Executive Senior Editor

Strangers When We Married
Carla Cassidy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Frank, my own deliciously dangerous hero,

who shares not only my life, but my hopes, my dreams,

my heart, as well.

A note from popular writer Carla Cassidy, author of over thirty-five novels for Silhouette Books:

I love reunion stories…stories where couples get a second chance to embrace a love that will last a lifetime. Working on the sixth book in the A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY series gave me the opportunity to unite two people who belong together. Strangers When We Married is the story of a love meant to be, a love that time and sacrifice won’t change.

Deliciously dangerous Seth Greene stole my heart and made telling his story an absolute delight. Meghan Greene is a strong, independent woman who has pulled her life together after her bitter, heartbreaking divorce from Seth. When these two reluctantly team up to find an elusive criminal, their passionate past comes crashing back to haunt them and make them realize what’s really important in life.

Participating in this continuity series with so many talented authors telling so many wonderful stories about honorable, committed men and the women who love them has been a pure pleasure. I hope you will enjoy reading Strangers When We Married as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Happy reading!

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 1

He dreamed of death and destruction, of guns barking and human carnage. And in his nightmare the dead came back to haunt him, their eyes coldly accusing.

Seth Greene sat straight up in bed, automatically reaching for the gun he wasn’t wearing. His heart pumped ferociously, shooting volumes of blood through his veins to his brain, producing the kind of fight-or-flight adrenaline that was intimately familiar.

It took him only a second to leave the dream and gain reality, to remember that he was in the one place on earth he was safe…except from his dreams.

He drew a ragged breath and raked a hand across his jaw, waiting for the burst of explosive adrenaline to subside.

Brilliant moonlight filtered into the large room through the floor-to-ceiling window that provided a spectacular view of the rugged southern California mountains.

He got out of bed and went to the window, hoping the moonlit landscape might erase the lingering vestiges of his nightmares, erase the bitter taste of failure from his mouth.

There were no bad views at the Condor Mountain Resort and Spa. Each window offered a panoramic view of nature at its finest. Towering pines, the Pacific Ocean and rugged landscape gave the impression of a place untouched by man. Even the buildings that comprised the luxury spa were built to blend harmoniously into the landscape.

It had been designed as a place of peace, of healing and tranquillity. But, in the twenty-four hours since his arrival, no peace had entered his soul, no tranquillity had eased the burden of guilt that ripped at his gut.

He turned away from the window and grabbed the jeans he’d kicked off before going to bed. He pulled them on along with a thick, flannel shirt and his shoes, then left the room, knowing further sleep was impossible, at least for the rest of the night.

Unsure of his destination, knowing only the need to escape the confines of the room, he wound down the darkened corridor and found the door that led him out onto the large flagstone terrace.

Once outside, he breathed deeply of the ocean air in an attempt to relax his shoulder muscles that had been knotted for far too long. But, the memory of those dead men, their haunting, accusatory faces in his dream, merely served to further tighten his muscles and sicken his gut.

Back home, it would be cold enough to snow. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes. Washington, D.C., was beautiful in the snow, the stately buildings and picturesque homes with a glistening frosting and dangling shiny icicles.

He frowned and focused his gaze on the sky overhead. D.C. hadn’t been his home for a very long time. Almost two years.

The brilliant stars faded as images flashed through his mind, images of a quaint town house in Georgetown, and a woman with eyes the color of a mysterious forest and a mane of curly red hair.

Meghan. He remembered tangling his hands in that glorious hair, kissing sweet, full lips until they were swollen. The memory of their lovemaking was seared into his head. Hot. Hungry.

Swearing beneath his breath, he whirled around and placed his hands on the rough edge of the stone wall, beyond which was a deep, deadly ravine.

“Contemplating jumping?” The deep male voice came from behind him and he turned around to see Easton “East” Kirby eyeing him soberly.

“You know me better than that,” Seth scoffed. “I’ve never been one to take the easy way out.” He once again turned to face the ravine. “How did you know I was out here?”

East joined him at the wall. “When you came down for supper last night, I knew you were coiled too tight to sleep the night through. I’ve had one ear to the floor for the last couple of hours.”

Seth forced a small smile. “A position like that makes it hard to make love to your wife, doesn’t it?”

East laughed, the deep, low chuckle of a contented man. “Don’t you worry about Alicia’s and my love life. We manage fine, thank you.”

Considering the fact that East’s wife, Alicia, was almost five months pregnant, it was obvious they did manage their personal relationship fine, as well as managing the Condor efficiently.

For a moment the two men stood side by side, both of them staring out into the shadowed darkness before them. Around them night creatures rustled in the underbrush, a light ocean breeze stirred the leaves of nearby trees and somewhere in the distance a coyote howled its malcontent.

“I screwed up.” Seth turned and stared at East’s face, focusing on the man’s eyes to see if there was any hint of censure there. “I screwed up and a lot of good agents fell.”

He drew a deep, ragged breath as he saw no censure, no judgment in East’s eyes, and had instinctively known that he wouldn’t.

“Those men knew the risks and if I were you, I’d be hesitant to accept full blame for a blown sting operation.”

“I’m placing blame where it belongs,” Seth said darkly. “Hell, it’s obvious the agency blames me since they sent me here.”

East chuckled once again. “I’ve never heard anyone before consider coming here as a punishment.” His laughter died and Seth felt his gaze on him. “Jonah sent you here because you needed to put things in their proper perspective, because you need to rest and make sure your head is on straight before they send you out again.”

“What did Jonah tell you about all this?” Seth’s stomach knotted up as he thought of the man he’d give his life for, a man he’d never actually met in person.

Jonah was the head of SPEAR, the covert government agency that gave Seth his orders…the agency that gave Seth a reason for his existence. SPEAR, an acronym that defined all that Seth was as a man. Stealth, Perseverance, Endeavor, Attack and Rescue, an organization to which Seth had pledged his honor, committed his life, and would die for if necessary.

East shrugged his broad shoulders in answer to Seth’s question. “You know Jonah…a man of few words. All he said was that the sting was successful in that SPEAR is now in possession of the weapons Simon intended to acquire.”

Seth frowned at the name of the man who was attempting to destroy not only Jonah, but the entire SPEAR organization. “Yeah, we got the guns, but Simon escaped…along with seven hundred pounds of uncut heroin.” Again a wave of anger and guilt bludgeoned Seth from within. Dammit, it had been his operation. How in the hell had it all fallen apart?

East emitted a low whistle. “Seven hundred…street value will be astronomical.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Again the two men fell silent. Seth stared out into darkness, his mind whirling in chaos. At the same time his mind reeled, he drew in deep breaths in an attempt to give an outward appearance of calm.

“I think maybe I’ll do a little hiking in the morning,” Seth said, although a trek through nature was the furthest thing from his mind.

East nodded with obvious approval. “Nothing like fresh air and exercise to cleanse the spirit.”

Seth forced a yawn. “I’d like to head out at before sunrise, so I guess I’ll go back to my room and see if I can catch a couple more winks.”

East nodded once again. “Seth, if you need to talk…or anything, you know Alicia and I are available any time.”

Seth clapped the tall, powerfully built man on the shoulder. “Thanks, East. I’ll be fine.” Without waiting for a reply, aware of East’s speculative gaze on him, Seth turned and went back the way he had come.

Once inside the privacy of his room, he sat on the edge of the bed, allowing his thoughts full rein. Dead agents…a wealth in dope…and Simon. His mind reeled with frustration, regret and anger.

He remained seated on the bed for a little over an hour, hoping to allow enough time to pass to ensure that East and his wife were sound asleep.

Thankfully, he hadn’t unpacked his things the day before when he’d arrived. The small black bag by the door held everything he needed to live, including two sets of false identification…identification he couldn’t use because he didn’t want anyone, especially not the superiors who had provided the false credentials, to know where he was going or what he was doing.

He zipped the bag and with the stealth of a wildcat, opened the door and crept down the hallway in the opposite direction he’d gone earlier.

Not wanting to use the front door in the lobby area, he headed for a little-used service door in the kitchen. He pulled the door open and hesitated in the threshold, torn between duty and desire, following rules or breaking them.

He knew if he walked through the door and into the night, he’d be AWOL. He wasn’t sure what repercussions to expect, knew that he’d be considered a renegade agent, but he couldn’t worry about that now.

He had to get out of here. Another minute of this peace and tranquillity would kill him. Seth was accustomed to action and he had a definite plan in mind.

Without further hesitation, he stalked out of the door and into the night. The darkness surrounded him, and his dark jeans and shirt camouflaged him as he walked further and further away from the resort.

He needed some answers. Sooner or later Simon would sell the 700 pounds of heroin for cash and more weapons, ammunition he could use to further his destruction of Jonah and SPEAR.

Seth knew only one person who had the sharp intelligence, the innate shrewdness and skilled computer expertise to help him find Simon and the missing drugs.

His ex-wife.

Meghan.

Of course, before he could get her to agree to help him, he’d have to get her to agree to at least see him, talk to him. And that might be far more difficult than finding a cunning, traitorous criminal named Simon.

Meghan Greene believed in the comfort of rituals. She always had a glass of wine before dinner, no matter how long the meal might be postponed.

Despite exhaustion and late hours, she always rubbed hand lotion on her legs and elbows before getting into bed. And every evening before leaving work for the day, she covered her computer monitor with a dustcover and carefully wiped down the glass-topped desk with window cleaner.

This day was no different: She sprayed and swiped, then stepped back to survey the results.

“When you get done over there, how about giving my desk a little spray and elbow grease,” Mark Lathrop said as he carried a cup of coffee past her.

“Fat chance,” Meghan retorted and eyed his desk with disdain. Discarded take-out food containers littered his space, along with dirty coffee mugs, a plate of three-day-old chocolate éclairs and enough dust to fill a vacuum bag. “It would take more than a little elbow grease on that. You might consider calling HAZMAT to take care of the job.”

“Ha ha,” Mark replied dryly. He flopped into his chair and eyed her curiously. “Got big plans for the weekend?”

“Sure, me and my best guy are going to spend some quality time together.” Meghan swiped the glass a final time then opened the nearby supply closet and put the cleaner away.

“How is Kirk?” Mark asked as he propped his feet up on his desk, narrowly missing the stale éclairs.

Meghan smiled. “He’s wonderful.” She stole a glimpse at her watch. “And if I don’t get out of here, he’ll be squalling because dinner is late.” She pulled on her coat and picked up her purse.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Turn the sign in the window on your way out.”

Meghan nodded and when she got to the door, flipped the sign from open to closed, then stepped out of the front door of the squat redbrick building.

The sign in the front window of the establishment proclaimed it to be the Lathrop Employment Agency, owned by Mark. Although it was true they functioned as an employment agency on the surface, in actuality the office belonged to SPEAR.

The Washington, D.C., traffic was horrendous as usual, and it took Meghan close to thirty minutes to get to the nearby Happy Time Day Care Center.

She hurried to the cheerful room where Kirk spent his days. “Sorry I’m late,” she said to Harriet Winslowe, the white-haired teacher all the children called Grandma Harry. “Hey buddy.” She held out her arms as Kirk came toddling toward her, a drooly, happy smile decorating his handsome little face.

“Mama.” He grabbed her nose and squealed in delight as she scooped him up and kissed his sweet, chubby neck.

“Was he good?” she asked Harriet.

“Good as gold. I’ve never seen such a happy baby.”

Meghan smiled. “Yes, he is a happy boy.” She shifted Kirk from one side to the other. “And growing like a weed.”

Harriet smiled. “They tend to do that.”

“Yes, they do.”

As Meghan bundled the little boy up in his coat and hat, she and Harriet small-talked about the weather and the imminent Christmas holiday.

“Thanks, Harriet,” Meghan said when Kirk was ready to go. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” Within minutes Meghan had Kirk buckled into his car seat and they were heading to the Georgetown town house Meghan called home.

It was a short drive, but as always, by the time Meghan pulled up at the curb in her usual parking space, Kirk was sound asleep. He wouldn’t take naps during the day, but each evening on the drive home, he fell asleep and usually napped for a full hour.

After parking, she got out then unbuckled her sleeping child from the back seat. As she picked him up, he curled into her and turned his face into the side of her neck.

Meghan’s heart swelled with love. There was nothing quite like the sweet sensation of a child’s sleepy breath against your skin.

She took two steps toward her town house, then paused. Frowning, she realized somebody was seated in the chair on her front porch. It was definitely a male. She squinted, wishing she had a free hand to shove her glasses up more firmly on the bridge of her nose. Drat her myopic vision.

At that moment the man stood and instantly recognition flooded Meghan. There was only one man who held himself with such authority that he appeared to command the very air surrounding him.

Seth.

His name exploded in her head at the same time her arms tightened around her son. On the heels of recognition came anger.

What was he doing here? He’d promised…absolutely promised he’d never talk to her, never see her again. He was her past, and that’s where he’d promised to stay.

As she walked closer, his features came into sharper focus. She’d never known him when he hadn’t needed a haircut, and today was no different. His dark brown hair fell well below the collar of his coat. Despite being unfashionably long and rather shaggy, the style suited his arresting features.

Kirk squirmed, as if protesting in his sleep her tight hold on him. She relaxed her grip a tad, squared her shoulders, then marched ahead, dread rolling in the pit of her stomach.

“Meghan.” He nodded his head in greeting.

Before she could reply, her next-door neighbor, Mrs. Columbus, stepped out on her front porch. As usual, the old woman was clad in a duster, this one a swirl of rainbow colors.

“Yoo-hoo, Meghan, dear.” The old woman waved and smiled broadly, the gesture causing her plump cheeks to nearly swallow her narrow eyes. “I tried to get your friend to come inside and wait for you where it’s warm.”

“He isn’t a friend,” Meghan mumbled beneath her breath. “Thank you, Mrs. Columbus.”

The old woman remained standing, as if expecting an introduction to the handsome man on Meghan’s porch. But, Meghan had no intention of making one.

Mrs. Columbus stood for a moment longer, her curiosity palpable, then with a disgruntled sigh disappeared back into her house.

Seth hadn’t moved during the brief exchange. Meghan walked up the three stairs to her porch and studiously ignored him as she unlocked her front door.

“Meghan, I need to talk to you.”

She turned and glared at him. “We had an agreement.”

“We did,” he concurred. “But my circumstances have changed.” His gaze shifted from her to the child in her arms.

“Well, mine haven’t.” She opened her door and started to step inside, but he reached out and grabbed her arm, impeding her escape.

“Meghan, it’s a matter of life or death.” Although his features remained placid and his voice low and calm, she felt the tension that radiated from him.

“If it’s your life or death we’re talking about, then I’m just not interested,” she replied with forced coolness.

“Please.” His eyes, those mesmerizing green eyes that had once reminded her of springtime, of burgeoning possibilities and the birth of hopes and dreams, now appeared the turbulent color of stormy seas.

She wanted to tell him no. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. But she’d never before seen him with stress deepening the lines around his eyes, never before felt the kind of desperate energy that flowed from him.

Seth had never needed her before, but as she gazed at him, she felt his need and if she searched deep in her heart she would have to acknowledge that need was provocative.

She sighed and opened her door. “Come in. I’ll give you five minutes,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said simply. He followed her into the hallway and she pointed him to the kitchen. “Sit in there and I’ll be right back.”

She carried Kirk into the nursery, where dancing bear wallpaper greeted her. Her hands trembled slightly as she placed the sleeping little boy into his crib. He didn’t stir as she pulled off his cap and coat, then covered him with a light blanket.

For a moment she remained standing next to the crib, wondering what possible circumstances had brought Seth back into her life. It had been almost two years since he’d walked out, a little over a year ago that she’d contacted him about Kirk’s existence and he’d complied by her wishes that he stay out of Kirk’s life.

Why was he here? Had he suddenly decided to be a father to his child despite everything? She stared at the little sleeping boy, his brown hair tousled from the hat, his chubby cheeks slightly reddened as they always became when he slept.

“Over my dead body,” she whispered fervently. There was no way she was going to let Seth into Kirk’s life. There was no way she was going to let Seth break Kirk’s heart like he had hers almost two years before.

She’d give him five minutes to explain exactly why he was here, then she’d send him on his way. With that thought in mind, she left Kirk’s room and went to the kitchen.

Seth paced the room in restless energy and for a moment didn’t see her standing in the doorway. She took that minute to study him, to see what changes had occurred since she’d last seen him.

A little over six feet tall, he still didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. His jeans perfectly fit his slender hips and hugged his waist and long legs as if tailor-made. He’d shrugged off his jacket and wore a simple black T-shirt beneath, the short sleeves displaying the taut muscles of his shoulders and arms.

Physically, he looked the very same way he had when they’d said goodbye so long ago. But, something was different and when he saw her and stopped pacing, she realized exactly what was different. His eyes. They’d never looked haunted before.

“You’ve redecorated,” he said, indicating the round wooden table that had replaced the glass-top modern table they’d once owned.

“I needed a change.” She walked past him and opened the refrigerator. She took out the leftover tuna casserole and placed it in the oven to reheat. She didn’t intend to break her routine just because her ex-husband had shown up out of nowhere.

He paced for a moment longer, then threw himself into a chair at the table and thrummed his fingertips on the tabletop in an irritating rhythm.

Meghan got out a can of corn, opened it and placed it in a saucepan. Placing the pan on one of the stove burners, she looked at Seth. “I gave you five minutes. Two of those minutes have already passed.”

He swiped a hand through his hair, looking tense and distracted. “Did you hear about the sting in L.A.?”

“Bits and pieces,” she admitted. “You were there?”

He frowned. “It was my baby. I worked closely with Keshon Gray setting up the sting to get Simon.”

Meghan moved to sit across from him at the table. “But Simon got away.”

Seth nodded. His eyes glittered with hatred for the man who threatened the very foundation of SPEAR, a man they knew nothing about except that he went by the name of Simon. “Yeah, somehow the bastard slipped through. And he took something with him…seven hundred pounds of uncut heroin.”

Meghan sucked in a deep breath. “That much smack could finance a lot of trouble.”

“Exactly.” Again his hand raked through his hair, tumbling the thick long strands into boyish disarray. “That’s why I need your help. You can do magic on that computer of yours. You have access to information nobody else does. You can help me find Simon and those drugs.”

Suddenly Meghan realized that the moment she’d seen him sitting on her front porch, despite her desire to the contrary, a tiny flare of hope had lit. A hope that he wanted to see her, wanted to be a part of her life, of Kirk’s. For a brief few minutes she’d entertained the foolish idea that he needed her as a woman…but what he needed was her as a fellow SPEAR agent.

His words extinguished that tiny flame of hope, and she remembered all the reasons she’d cast him out of her life, out of Kirk’s.

“You know I can’t do that,” she replied curtly. “The kind of information you’d need is highly classified.”

“You have clearance,” he countered.

“Yes, but if anyone finds out what I’m doing, my clearance could be pulled or I could get fired.”

He grinned, that slow, easy smile that had once arrowed straight through her heart. “You’re too good to get caught. Besides, it isn’t like this would be the first time you’ve done something like this for me.”

She frowned and stared down at the table, knowing what he was talking about. When she’d first met Seth, he’d been assigned to a desk job at the “employment agency” while a leg wound he’d received healed. At that time, Meghan had used her computer and processing information skills to help locate Raymond Purly, the man who’d shot Seth. Raymond had been arrested and was now serving time for the sale of narcotics.

At that time, Meghan had worked beside Seth during the days, and shared a bed with him at night. Their lovemaking had been wild and wicked and wonderful, and Meghan had given him her heart, her soul, and every dream she’d ever nurtured for the future. And he’d taken her heart, her soul, and all of her dreams and shattered them.

“Meghan.” Her name was a soft plea falling from his lips, and he reached out and covered her hand with his. “You’re the only one I can trust and you’re the only one with the expertise to get what I need. Simon is a dangerous loose cannon, and since you’re also a SPEAR agent, he’s as much a threat to you as he is to anyone.”

Meghan yanked her hand from beneath his, hating the fact that even after all this time his touch still managed to stir something inside her.

She stood, and thought she might hate him…for coming to her at all, for needing her in all the wrong ways. She thought she might hate him most of all for reminding her of the threat Simon posed to the SPEAR agency.

“All right,” she said reluctantly. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Great.” For the first time since he’d arrived, she saw a slight easing of his tension. “Oh, there’s one other small favor I have to ask you.”

She frowned irritably, not taken in by the seeming nonchalance of his voice. “What?” she asked flatly.

“I kind of went AWOL from the Condor Mountain Resort last night. You wouldn’t mind if I bunked here for a few days, would you?”

At that moment Kirk squalled from his bedroom, a plaintive cry of protest that mirrored the protest Meghan wanted to scream.

Chapter 2

As Meghan left the kitchen, Seth drew a deep breath and sank down at the table. He hadn’t expected the sight of her to affect him, but it had.

The moment she’d gotten out of her car, her red curls bouncing and gleaming in the waning sunlight, his stomach muscles had knotted as memories assailed him. He’d always tangled his hands in her wildly curly hair as they’d made love, loving the way it felt so silky against his fingers.

She’d paled at the sight of him, her freckles appearing to grow darker against the alabaster of her skin. If anyone had told him years ago that at some point in his life an obsessive-compulsive, freckled, red-haired woman would drive him wild, he’d have laughed at them. But that’s exactly what had happened.

He and Meghan had shared a crazy, passionate weeklong courtship, then seven months of marriage before reality had intruded and they’d both realized they’d made a terrible mistake.

How many times had he watched those beautiful green eyes of hers darken with desire, light up with laughter, and then at the end of their relationship, cloud with tears?

He shoved back his chair and stood once again, too restless to sit and irritated with the damnable, unwanted memories.

She was a piece of his past and he wasn’t here to fix or change the choices they’d made, choices that had led to separate lives for each of them.

Pacing back and forth, he could hear the faint sounds of her talking to Kirk. His son. The boy’s little face had been hidden in the curve of Meghan’s neck when she’d first arrived.

As he heard Meghan returning to the kitchen, he found himself eager to see the child that he was almost ashamed to admit, until this moment, had been an abstract in his mind.

For the past fourteen months, since the day of Kirk’s birth, he’d consciously shoved thoughts of the child away. It had been the only way he could deal with the agreement he’d made with Meghan, the painful agreement to stay out of Kirk’s life.

Kirk entered the kitchen first, toddling a bit unsteadily. Automatically, Seth went down on one knee and opened his arms. Kirk stopped at the sight of him. His bottom lip trembled ominously then he turned back toward Meghan.

Meghan scooped him up in her arms and carried him to the nearby high chair where she buckled him in. Seth dropped his hands to his sides and stood once again, oddly disappointed that the little boy hadn’t run to his embrace.

You stupid dolt, he told himself. What did you expect? The kid has no idea who you are. Why would he come to you? He doesn’t know you’re his father. To him you’re nothing but a stranger. Nothing but a stranger…and if Meghan had her way, that’s what he’d remain.

“Seth, it’s just not a good idea for you to stay here,” Meghan said. She walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of wine. She held it up and he shook his head.

As she poured herself a glass, he focused his attention once again on his son.

Seth sat in the chair next to Kirk’s high chair. His son. He had his mother’s eyes. Brilliant green and at the moment they stared at Seth with both curiosity and wariness. He didn’t have Meghan’s hair. Kirk’s was straight and a dark, rich brown.

My hair, Seth thought, a thrill shooting through him. The child had his hair and his square chin. Kirk had his straight nose and dark brows, yet had Meghan’s full lips and cheekbones.

The little boy was an attractive combination of both mother and father and a swell of emotion shot through Seth as he continued to drink in the sight of the little features.

Father. The title rang in his head. I’m his father. For the first time the relationship struck Seth deep in his heart.

“Seth, did you hear me?”

Meghan’s voice, tense and with an irritated edge, broke through his reverie. “What?” He tore his gaze from Kirk and focused once again on Meghan.

She handed Kirk a cracker, then joined Seth at the table, her glass of wine in hand. “I said I don’t think it’s a good idea that you stay here.”

“You’re right. It probably isn’t a good idea,” he agreed, then hurriedly added, “but I’ve got no place else to go.”

Her eyes were cold, hard behind her wire-rimmed glasses. “Surely you can think of someplace else.”

“If I could, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” He leaned forward and was instantly able to smell her. It was a scent he’d never forgotten, the smell of exotic flowers and mysterious spices. For months after he’d left her, the fragrance had haunted him.

“I need to be someplace where nobody will find me. I need some time to pull myself together, to find Simon. Think about it, Meghan, with the way we parted, nobody would ever think of looking for me here.” He smiled dryly. “In fact, this is the last place on earth anyone would look for me.”

She frowned and took a sip of her wine. The hard glitter in her eyes had been replaced with uncertainty. She looked at Kirk, then back at Seth.

Seth pressed his case. “Please, Meghan. We’re just talking about a couple of days. It shouldn’t take you longer than that to find the information I need. I’ll sleep on the sofa. You won’t even know I’m here.”

Kirk banged on his tray, slobbery cracker crumbs decorating his chin. Meghan stared at her son for a long moment, then looked back at Seth. “Three days,” she finally said, then downed the last of her wine as if she needed the strength found in the bottom of the glass.

“Thanks,” he breathed in relief. He hadn’t realized just how important it was to him until this very moment.

“Don’t thank me,” she snapped. “Understand, Seth, nothing has changed. Our agreement still stands. I don’t want you in my life and I certainly don’t want you in Kirk’s life.”

She stood and placed her empty wine glass into the dishwasher.

At that moment the doorbell rang. She whirled around to look at him, her eyes widened in apprehension. “Maybe being here isn’t as safe as you thought,” she said. “Jonah has ears and eyes everywhere. Maybe they already know you’re here.”

“Maybe you should answer the door and see who it is,” he replied calmly.

He was certain that nobody knew he was here. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said the last place anyone from the agency would look for him was here with Meghan. Everyone knew the acrimony that had marked their divorce.

“Yoo-hoo.” The feminine voice rang out, followed by a rapid staccato of knocks. “Meghan, dear.”

Meghan sighed. “It’s my neighbor, Mrs. Columbus.”

Seth relaxed as Meghan left the kitchen to answer the door. He smiled at Kirk, fighting the impulse to gather the little boy up in his arms…smell the scent of innocence, feel the cuddly warmth that only a small child possessed.

Kirk gifted him with a shy grin and Seth realized at that moment that he’d made a horrible mistake when he’d agreed to stay out of his son’s life.

“I just can’t imagine how I managed to run out of sugar,” Mrs. Columbus preceded Meghan into the kitchen, her duster swirling around her thick legs and her broad face beaming at Seth. “I like a cup of tea in the evenings, but I can’t abide the stuff without a spoonful of sugar.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. Columbus,” Meghan said as she went to the bright red, apple-shaped canisters on the countertop.

Mrs. Columbus plopped down in the chair next to Seth’s. “And there’s my little buttercup,” she exclaimed to Kirk, who gurgled a greeting in response. “Isn’t he just about the sweetest little dumpling you’ve ever seen?”

Seth grinned. He had a feeling the old woman wasn’t here to fawn over Kirk or to borrow sugar. She was on a fishing expedition. “He is an exceptionally handsome child,” Seth agreed.

“We didn’t officially introduce ourselves earlier.” The woman held out her hand to him. “I’m Rose Columbus, and you’re…?”

Seth thought fast. He had a feeling Rose Columbus was not the soul of discretion. He could easily envision her at the butcher shop, haggling over a cut of meat while wagging her tongue over the local gossip. Telling her the truth might jeopardize him. More importantly, telling her the truth might jeopardize Meghan and Kirk.

He took Mrs. Columbus’s hand in his. “I’m Steve,” he improvised. “Meghan’s cousin.”

Rose’s gray eyebrows danced up in surprise as she looked at Meghan. “You naughty girl, you told me you had no family.”

Meghan glared at Seth. “Steve is sort of a black sheep.”

“Indeed.” Rose returned her gaze to Seth and smiled slyly. “Well, he’s a handsome black sheep, if I do say so myself. So, are you staying here long?”

Seth shrugged. “Just for a little while.”

“How nice for Meghan to have family over the holidays. Since her scalawag husband left her, she spends far too much time alone,” Rose said.

Scalawag husband? What exactly had Meghan told Rose Columbus about him? He raised an eyebrow and looked at Meghan.

Meghan’s cheeks were pink as she thrust a plastic bowl of sugar toward Rose. “Here you are, Rose. That should be enough sugar for several cups of tea.”

“Thanks, dear.” Reluctantly, Rose stood.

Seth had the feeling she wished she’d asked to borrow something that took a little longer to prepare, giving her more time to pick and prod for information.

“It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Columbus,” he said.

“Please, call me Rose,” she replied. “Perhaps one evening this week you and Meghan and little Kirk can come over to my place and share a little holiday punch.”

“Great,” Seth agreed easily. “And Meghan can bring some of her caramel coffee cake. She makes a great coffee cake.” He studiously kept his gaze away from Meghan, knowing he was probably irritating the hell out of her.

Rose beamed. “Oh, that would be lovely. I’m quite fond of coffee cake. Well, I guess I’d better get back next door.” With another broad smile at Seth, she turned and left the kitchen with Meghan following in her wake to show her out.

The moment Meghan left the kitchen, Kirk sent up a wail of displeasure. “Hey buddy,” Seth said softly. “It’s all right. She’ll be right back.” He fought the impulse to pick up Kirk, knowing that would probably only make him more afraid.

If nothing else came from this time with Meghan, even if he didn’t discover Simon’s whereabouts, at least he’d have some time with his son.

And he had a feeling, before his time here was finished, he and Meghan were going to renegotiate their agreement that he stay out of his child’s life.

Meghan closed the door behind Rose and drew a deep breath and counted to ten. She was mad…mad at Seth for being here, irritated at him for telling Rose he was her cousin, and especially angry because she felt as if things were spinning out of control.

Hearing Kirk’s laughter, she hurried back into the kitchen. She halted in the doorway, stunned by the vision that greeted her.

Seth—the man who’d always exuded a simmering sense of danger, the man who had been trained to deal with criminals and situations that would give most people nightmares—sat with a napkin covering his head and face.

As Meghan watched, he tore the napkin off and grinned at his son. “Peekaboo,” he exclaimed. Kirk laughed in delight. Peekaboo was his most favorite game.

Meghan wasn’t certain what bothered her more, Kirk’s enchanted laughter or the expression of utter devotion on Seth’s face. Both filled her with a flutter of fear.

“I’d prefer you don’t get him all wound up before dinner,” she said as she entered the kitchen.

Seth quickly folded the napkin and placed it on his lap. “I was just trying to make him happy.”

“He’s a very happy, well-adjusted little boy,” she said defensively. She frowned and went to the oven. “Have you eaten?” she asked as she removed the now-warm tuna casserole.

“Not since this morning,” he replied.

Meghan was perversely pleased that all she had to offer him was the casserole, which he’d always professed to hate when they were married. She placed the dish in the center of the table, then glared at him, challenging him to utter a single complaint.

“Hmm, looks good,” he replied. The twinkle in his eyes let her know he knew she’d been expecting something different from him.

She handed him two plates and silverware and while he set the table she added the corn, a prepackaged salad mix and dressing, and bread and butter. She quickly microwaved a jar of Kirk’s favorite baby food meal…little hot dogs with bits of macaroni, then joined Seth at the table.

They filled their plates in silence, Meghan studiously trying to keep her gaze focused away from Seth. She was chagrined to discover that even after all this time, after all they’d been through, she still found him devastatingly handsome.

“You shouldn’t have told Mrs. Columbus you were my cousin,” she said, knowing subconsciously she was working up a renewed dose of annoyance with him.

He shrugged. “I couldn’t very well tell her the truth. I have the feeling discretion isn’t in Rose Columbus’s vocabulary.”

“I don’t like to lie to my neighbors,” she returned. “And I suppose you thought that bit about the caramel coffee cake was quite amusing.”

He grinned. “Maybe you can fool her like you fooled me…pretend it’s homemade when it’s actually store-bought.”

Meghan frowned, definitely not amused by the memory of the morning after their wedding. Seth had told her his favorite breakfast was homemade, fresh-from-the-oven caramel coffee cake.

Meghan, who couldn’t cook at all, had snuck out of bed at the crack of dawn and raced down to a nearby market to buy the treat for her new husband. She would have pulled it off without a hitch had she not forgotten to throw away the box it had come in. Seth had teased her unmercifully.

He picked up a piece of bread and slapped butter on it, then looked at her, one brow raised. “Tell me, what exactly have you told your neighbor about your ‘scalawag’ husband?”

“Nothing but the truth,” she replied evasively.

“Your version of the truth or mine?” he asked dryly.

“What difference does it make? You won’t be here long enough for it to matter.” She smiled absently at Kirk as he banged on his tray, demanding attention. He wasn’t accustomed to sharing his mom.

Despite the fact that Seth had always professed to hate her tuna casserole, he ate like a man starved. He attacked most things with the same single-mindedness.

Even his lovemaking had always been breathtakingly intense. He’d always kissed her like it was a new experience, as if he were starved for the taste of her. Each stroke of his fingers across her body, every exploration of hands and lips had been powerful.

When he’d possessed her, she’d had the feeling he was attempting to brand her, to forever mark her as his, making it impossible for her to be intimate with any other man. And in the darkest hours of the night when she was alone in her bed, she was afraid that was exactly what he had done.

Warmth suffused her and she consciously shoved these thoughts away. The last thing she needed to do was remember their lovemaking. It was the only thing they had managed to do right and it certainly hadn’t been enough to sustain a marriage.

“You look good, Meghan,” Seth said softly. He pushed his plate aside, his gaze intent on her.

“What did you expect?” she replied, a blush warming her cheeks. “Did you think when you left I’d just fall apart? Fall into a deep depression? Stop showering?”

He smiled curtly and held up his hands in surrender. “Are you this touchy with everyone?”

“No, only with ex-husbands who show up uninvited on my doorstep.” Meghan stood and carried her plate to the sink, suddenly weary from the sniping.

She’d agreed to use her expertise to help find Simon’s whereabouts and to allow Seth to stay for a few days so there was no use fighting it now.

She turned from the sink in time to see Seth lifting Kirk from the high chair. The tall man with the haunted eyes held the child a moment longer than necessary, then carefully set him on the floor.

When Seth looked at Meghan, it was impossible for her to read the dark expression in his eyes. All she knew was that at that moment he looked tired…more tired than she’d ever seen him.

“Why don’t you go on in the living room and relax,” she said. He’d told her he’d left the Condor Mountain Resort last night. He wouldn’t have taken a direct route here, which meant he’d had to have traveled for much of the night and day. She knew if he’d been traveling incognito, he’d probably traveled by plane, bus and train to assure nobody could track him.

“I think I will,” he agreed.

She breathed a sigh of relief as he left the room. She gave Kirk a plastic set of measuring spoons to play with, then finished cleaning up the counters.

As she worked, her mind whirled with the challenge of finding Simon. She knew the quicker she could accomplish what Seth needed, the sooner he’d leave her home and her life.

When she had the kitchen spotless once again, she scooped up Kirk in her arms and stepped into the living room. Seth was stretched out on the sofa, sound asleep.

For a moment she simply stood there, staring at him as she hadn’t dared before when he was awake. She didn’t know all the details of the sting in L.A., but even in sleep the failure of that operation showed full on Seth’s features.

His long, thick eyelashes rested on dark circles that discolored the skin beneath his eyes. His features, even in rest, appeared taut, as if even sleep couldn’t ease the tension within him.

As she watched, his arm jerked, an involuntary twitch that let her know his rest wasn’t peaceful. More than ever before, he looked like the man on the edge of both physical and mental exhaustion.

Exactly what had happened during the raid? She knew they’d lost men, knew Simon had escaped, but Seth had been part of unsuccessful operations before. What had been so different about this one? What had caused the haunted darkness she’d seen flash in the depths of his green eyes several times during dinner?

She frowned and hugged Kirk closer to her chest. She didn’t care. She refused to care. She couldn’t afford to care about Seth ever again.

He’d turned her upside down, twisted her inside out when he’d left her, and she would never, ever give him that power over her again. And she would never allow him to hurt Kirk as he had hurt her.

Shifting Kirk from one hip to the other, she walked down the long hallway to the closet at the end. She grabbed a set of sheets and a thick blanket, then returned to the living room.

Careful not to awaken him, she set the bedding on the arm of the sofa where he would see them when he woke up. If she had a heart, she would have offered him the bed in the spare room instead of the sofa. But having him set up residency in the spare room felt far too permanent.

Besides, she didn’t have a heart. Seth had stolen her heart when he’d met her, and he’d broken her heart when he’d left, leaving her nothing but loneliness and broken dreams.

Chapter 3

Seth awakened just before dawn, surprised to realize he’d slept deeply and without nightmares. The house was dark and silent and cold…especially cold.

In fact, he was freezing. He sat up, stretched, then turned on the lamp next to the sofa. It felt like a meat locker in here.

He grabbed the multicolored afghan from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around him, then reached up and touched the tip of his nose.

Meghan had always liked to turn the furnace way down at night and apparently this peccadillo of hers hadn’t changed. His nose felt like an iceberg in the center of his face. He rubbed it several times as he contemplated turning up the thermostat, then dismissed the idea. He was here on shaky ground as it was, no sense pushing his luck.

With the afghan still around his shoulders, he padded into the kitchen and flipped on the small light above the sink.

Coffee was in order, not only to ward off the chill of the house, but to get his brain cells working properly.

He frowned as he pulled the coffee from the cabinet. She’d switched brands. He eyed the container of a gourmet brand he’d never heard of before.

She’d changed the furniture, changed her brand of coffee—what other changes had occurred in his lovely ex-wife?

As he watched the dark brew drip into the glass carafe, he wondered if she still spent long minutes each night creaming her slender, shapely legs before getting into bed? It had been one of those nightly female rituals that had driven him crazy with desire.

He’d lay next to her in bed and watch. He’d smell the heady fragrance of the cream and imagine those long, sweet-scented, silky legs wrapped around him. And when she’d finished, on most nights, his imagination would transform into mind-blowing, sensual reality.

The gurgle of the coffeemaker pulled his thoughts from what had been, and what would never be again. He poured himself a cup of the fresh brew and sank down at the table.

He and Meghan might have remained married forever had they been able to spend every minute of their time in bed. Between the sheets, they had been equal partners, companionable in their wants and needs. Out of bed they had been disastrous.

He’d probably made a mistake in coming here. He wrapped his hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth. It probably would have been better for both of them had he stayed away, had he not seen his son.

Frowning, he took a sip of his coffee.

Kirk.

Seth had never thought much about having children. He’d had Meghan and he’d had his job. He’d believed that had been more than enough to fill his life, fulfill him as a man.

Even when Meghan had called him and told him she was pregnant, the idea of a child had remained vague, a mere abstract in his mind. She’d been so vehement about him staying out of her life, and at the time he’d been so bitter, it had been easy to agree to her terms that he keep away from her and their child.

There had been times in the past fourteen months that Seth had wondered about the boy, but always in his head he’d thought of Kirk as Meghan’s child, a tiny entity that had little to do with him.

He recognized now that keeping Kirk a mere abstract in his mind had been a survival instinct. But now the abstract had been transformed into a smiling little face with a mop of dark hair and bright green eyes. Now the abstract had become sweet baby scent and chubby arms and legs.

Suddenly hungry to look at his son, he shoved back from the table and stood. Leaving his halfempty cup of coffee on the table, he walked through the living room and down the long hallway.

The faint illumination of night-lights spilled from each of the doorways in the hall. It had always amused Seth that a woman as bright, as totally together as Meghan, had refused to sleep without a night-light in practically every room of the house.

He had to pass the master bedroom in order to get to the smaller room he assumed to be Kirk’s. The third room at the very end of the hall he knew was Meghan’s home office, equipped with a state-of-the-art computer system.

Moving with the grace of a cat, he started across the doorway of her room, but paused to peek in before gliding past.

She slept on her stomach, her hair an explosion of scarlet color and wild curls against the pristine white of the pillowcase. The floral bed comforter was bunched at her waist, exposing a soft green nightgown and her freckled shoulders.

He’d once told her that they’d remain married for as long as it took him to kiss every freckle she possessed. And considering the fact that she had a million freckles, the implication was their marriage would last an eternity.

But she’d blown the scenario of eternity. A blast of bitterness laced with pain shot through him. She’d excised him out of her life with a surgeon’s precision, with unrealistic expectations and the attempt to force him to deny the very essence of himself.

So much for kissing freckles, he thought as he moved on past her bedroom doorway. Eventually some other man would have that pleasure and he didn’t want to examine why that particular thought bothered him.

He drew a deep breath as he stepped into the small bedroom across the hall, drinking in the scents of sweet innocence and babyhood.

The night-light cast shadows around the room and made the teddy bears on the wallpaper appear almost animated.

The crib was against the far wall, and through the oak bars he could see his son sleeping. Holding his breath, not wanting to awaken the slumbering child, Seth stepped closer…closer still.

Kirk slept on his back and he was snoring faintly. Clad in a dark blue fuzzy sleeper, his cheeks flushed a rosy red, the sight of him expanded Seth’s heart.

His child.

His son.

Never again would Kirk be a nebulous abstract in his mind. Seth would never again have the luxury of ignorance, the bliss of not knowing what he was missing.

The desire to pick up Kirk, to hold him tight against his chest was overwhelming. The need to feel the little boy’s arms wrap around his neck, feel the snuggle warmth of his body inundated him. Forever now, Kirk would not just be a name in his mind, but rather a face, a spirit, a little person who was a part of Seth.

“What are you doing in here?”

He whirled around to meet Meghan’s angry gaze. He reeled at the sight of her. Clad in an emerald green velour robe, with her hair tousled from sleep, she looked as lovely as he’d ever seen her.

She motioned him away from the crib and out of the room. Once they were in the hallway, her expression was anything but lovely. “I don’t appreciate you skulking around the house in the middle of the night.”

“It’s practically morning, and I wasn’t skulking around,” he protested, keeping his voice low so as not to awaken Kirk. “I…I thought I heard something and just wanted to check to make sure he was okay.”

The fabrication tasted vaguely sour in his mouth. She eyed him knowingly and he felt his cheeks warm. He sighed. “I just wanted to look at him for a minute,” he finally confessed.

He could tell his answer didn’t particularly please her. “It’s awfully early in the morning to start off angry,” he said. He grinned. “But as I remember, you never were much of a morning person.”

“And as I remember, you were always nauseatingly cheerful in the mornings,” she replied with a touch of crankiness.

“But I always made the coffee for you,” he said, wondering how she could look so damned beautiful with such a scowl on her face. “And this morning isn’t any different.”

Her scowl eased somewhat and she pulled the robe more tightly around her. “Coffee sounds good,” she said grudgingly.

Together they went to the kitchen. She sat at the table while he poured her a cup of coffee and refreshed his own. “What time is it?” she asked.

Seth checked the clock on the oven. “Just a few minutes past six. Did you sleep well?” he asked as he eased down next to her at the table.

“No.” She paused long enough to take a sip from her mug. “I didn’t sleep well because there was a stranger in the house.”

“I’m hardly a stranger. We were married for seven months.”

She sipped her coffee, eyeing him over the rim of the mug. Her eyes looked large, luminous, but he knew he was probably nothing more to her than an indistinct shape without her glasses. “Okay,” she relented. “We were intimate strangers.”

He couldn’t argue with that. In truth, it described their brief relationship perfectly. They had been physically intimate, but when they’d finally tried to share their hopes, their dreams, their expectations for their future together, they’d realized their error in judgment about each other.

“What time do you normally go into the office?” he asked.

“Usually, I’m there around eight-thirty or quarter to nine. But, I intend to go in early today and log some time on the computer before anyone else arrives.” She frowned thoughtfully. “I can’t let anyone know what I’m doing for you.”

“Can’t you do a lot of the work here? You still have your monster computer, don’t you?”

She nodded. “Yes, but I prefer to work at the office. It’s less conspicuous for me to use the official computer at work.”

Although it sounded logical, he had a feeling she had another reason to prefer working at the office rather than here at home. She didn’t want to spend any more time with him that she had to, and she particularly didn’t want to give him an opportunity to spend time with Kirk.

Before he left here, he’d make sure he changed her mind about him seeing Kirk. There was no way he could not be a part of his child’s life now. But he also knew now wasn’t the time to discuss this particular issue with her.

At that moment the object of his thoughts cried out. It was not a cry of distress or fear, rather it was a demand for attention.

Meghan finished the last of her coffee and stood. “Feel free to use the guest bathroom to shower or whatever,” she said, then she disappeared out of the kitchen.

Seth got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. He had all day to shower. In fact, he had a feeling the most difficult part of this entire ordeal was going to be sitting in this house doing nothing…waiting for Meghan to come up with the information he needed.

Seth wasn’t accustomed to doing nothing. He was a man who thrived on action, craved challenge. Hiding out in a house where nobody was home wasn’t very appealing, but at the moment it was his only option.

He walked over to the kitchen window and stared out, watching as the sun crested the horizon, shooting out tentative fingers of light.

It was going to be a beautiful, clear day. It was unusual for D.C. not to have snow by this time of the year. He was grateful there wasn’t any. Snow always reminded him of the months he’d spent married to Meghan.

Several weeks of his marriage to Meghan had encompassed the worst winter in D.C. on record, involving blizzard conditions and widespread power outages.

He and Meghan had spent several nights wrapped together in blankets in front of the fireplace, providing warmth for each other. They’d eaten canned pâté and crackers and read to one another by candlelight.

It had been a singular moment, a magical halt of reality when time had seemed to stop and the world outside their home had disappeared.

He turned away from the window in irritation. Damn the memories. They were the one thing he hadn’t considered when he’d made the decision to come here. And why such selective memory?

What he had to focus on was the fact that marriage to Meghan had required too high a price…the relinquishing of his very soul.

He turned as she reentered the kitchen, this time dressed for the day and with Kirk in her arms. With her hair neatly tied back at the nape of her neck and the wire-rimmed glasses firmly in place, she looked nothing like the sleepy-eyed seductress she had earlier.

“We’re off,” she said.

“But what about breakfast?” he asked, his gaze going from her to Kirk, who was clad in a turtleneck and a pair of corduroy overalls. “Even if you don’t eat, doesn’t he need something?”

“Grandma Harry will give him breakfast,” Meghan replied.

Kirk grinned. “Mama Harry,” he said.

“Harriet Winslowe at the Happy Time Day Care Center,” Meghan explained.

He trailed her from the kitchen to the living room, where she stopped at the hall closet and withdrew her coat and Kirk’s.

Seth leaned against the wall and watched as she placed Kirk on the floor and wrestled him into his coat and hat. Kirk laughed, as if it were a game to him, and Seth found a ridiculous grin decorating his own face at the sound of the childish giggles.

“Meghan,” he said as she put on her coat and picked Kirk up from the floor. “I know this whole situation is uncomfortable for you, but I do want you to know I appreciate it.”

She nodded and ducked her head, as if not wanting him to see whatever expression lit her eyes. “I’m usually home between five and six,” she said, then she opened the door and was gone, leaving Seth alone in the cold, empty house.

Uncomfortable. He’d said he knew the situation was uncomfortable for her. Meghan looked at her wristwatch and stifled a yawn. It was just a few minutes past seven in the morning and already she was exhausted.

She pulled her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. Uncomfortable, that didn’t even begin to describe what she felt about Seth hiding out at her place.

He filled the entire house with his presence, invading her personal space with his scent, his very essence. He’d always seemed larger than life to her, more colorful, bolder, stronger than any other man she’d ever known.

Even sleeping, he’d bothered her, making her own sleep elusive. She’d tossed and turned, remembering the look on his face as he’d gazed at Kirk. She’d seen that same troubling expression on his face this morning when she’d walked into Kirk’s room and found him standing there.

Shoving the disturbing image aside, she put her glasses back on and eyed her computer screen thoughtfully. If she had a criminal mind and was in possession of seven hundred pounds of uncut heroin, if she wanted to undermine the standing of a secret government agency, where would she go to orchestrate her attack?

The possibilities were endless, the countries who would welcome a traitor and dissident vast. She wasn’t sure where to begin a search for the elusive Simon.

As part of her job, Meghan maintained identities in dozens of chat rooms. Rooms with white supremists, tax evaders, bomb builders and weird splinter religious groups. Meghan knew which groups were truly dangerous and which were merely a bunch of nuts with shared delusions.

But Simon wouldn’t show up in a chat room and announce his presence or hold a sale for the drug product. And, of course, it was also possible he’d never left the States and instead was someplace near.

The problem was, Meghan couldn’t hunt Simon. She didn’t have enough information to track him. She had to hunt down the drugs. It was the only way to get to the man.

For the next hour, Meghan pulled up newspapers from around the country, studying front page stories and crime beat columns to see if any one city was suffering a rise in crimes or deaths affiliated with heroin in the past three days.

The man the SPEAR agents were after had already proved himself more than dangerous. The agency had managed once before the L.A. debacle to intercede a large shipment of weapons intended for Simon. That time Simon had escaped empty-handed. But this time Simon had the means to buy more weapons, and Meghan knew the desire for the weapons and drugs he now possessed were the keys to finding his whereabouts.

There was also one other way to find out what was going on where Simon was concerned, but she didn’t want to use that access unless absolutely necessary. She could hack into the most sensitive, secured files in the SPEAR computer, but that avenue was highly risky and she’d only do it as a desperate last resort.

At quarter to eight, Mark breezed into the office, startled to find her already at her desk. “Ah, the early bird gets the worm,” he said. “Only in this case it should be the early bird gets the best doughnuts.” He placed a box of pastries on her desk as she clicked out of the Montana newspaper she’d been perusing.

“What are you doing here so early?” Mark asked as he took off his coat and hung it on the coat tree just inside the front door.

“I just got around earlier than usual this morning,” she said as she scooted her chair to his desk and opened the box of doughnuts. “Hmm, these look wonderful.” She grabbed a glazed one as the heavenly scent filled the office.

“It’s going to be a slow day,” Mark said as he went to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup of the brew. He then perched on the edge of his desk and grabbed one of the doughnuts from the box. “In fact, it’s going to be a slow week with the holidays coming up so fast.”

The holidays. Christmas.

Meghan had always hated the holidays…first as a child, then as an adult. And Christmas was the worst holiday of them all.

“I think I’ll spend the day putting up decorations outside,” Mark said thoughtfully. “I should have done it before now, but I just haven’t taken the time. Did you see the display in the window next door?”

Meghan nodded. The dry cleaners who shared the building with them had gone all out. A huge evergreen tree stood in their window, complete with sparkling lights and ornaments consisting of little doll clothes all glittered and sequined in traditional Christmas colors.

“Why bother putting stuff up?” Meghan said between bites. “You’ll just have to take it all down again.”

“Oh, do I sense a touch of Scrooge in my lovely colleague?” Mark raised a sandy eyebrow teasingly.

Meghan blushed and shrugged. “I just think there’s too much holiday hype.”

“I adore holiday hype. Have you taken Kirk to see Santa yet?”

“No way. He’s too young to be traumatized by a fat guy in a red suit.” Meghan popped the last of the doughnut into her mouth and daintily licked sugar from her fingers.

“Definitely a Scrooge,” Mark said with a grin.

She laughed and wheeled her chair back in front of her desk and clicked on her in-box, not surprised to find a dozen files waiting for her attention.

As a communications expert, her job entailed analyzing diplomatic communiqués, studying the language used in official speeches and various other materials, then writing detailed reports on what was said and what she believed was meant. Often the two were very different.

Mark finished his doughnut, then disappeared into the large storage closet. He returned carrying a large box filled with glittering garland, plastic evergreen boughs and giant candy canes. “I’ll be outside playing one of Santa’s elves if you need me,” he said.

A moment later Meghan once again found herself alone in the office. As much as she wanted to find the information Seth sought and get him out of her house, she knew she didn’t dare spend any more time on his problem right now. She needed to get to her own work so as not to rouse suspicion.

She worked for the next four hours, breaking only to refill her coffee mug and occasionally stand to stretch her muscles. Mark spent the time outside, wrestling with a ladder as he hung lights, garland and giant candy canes from the top of the building.

The door flew open just before noon and a delivery man walked in. He wore an apron that advertised Ling Choo Chinese Cuisine and carried a bag containing a half-dozen take-out cartons.

Mark must have ordered in, Meghan thought in delight. She pulled out her wallet, but the man waved it away, declaring it had already been taken care of.

When the delivery man left, she opened the cartons to find all her favorites…sweet and sour chicken, won ton soup and crab rangoon. There was also chicken chow mein, which she knew was Mark’s favorite.

“Hey, Chinese…great idea,” Mark said as he came in, his cheeks ruddy from the cold.

“What do you mean? I thought you ordered it,” she replied.

“Not me…you didn’t?” Mark took off his coat and pulled his chair over next to hers.

She shook her head and frowned. “It must be a mistake. The delivery man must have gone to the wrong office or something. We’d better call them.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” Mark said as he peered at the contents of the cartons. “Odd, isn’t it? Everything you like is here and everything I like is here. Was there anything else in the bag?”

“Just a couple of loose fortune cookies.” Meghan retrieved the plastic bag the food had arrived in. “Surely you don’t think…” She pulled out the two fortune cookies and looked at Mark expectantly.

Mark grinned and shook his head ruefully. “He’s been wily before. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s contacted us through take-out food.”

Meghan knew exactly who Mark was talking about. Jonah. Their elusive boss who seemed to be everywhere and nowhere. Mark grabbed one of the fortune cookies, cracked it open and withdrew the fortune.

“Good fortune will smile on you. Lucky numbers are three, five and seven.” He looked up and smiled at Meghan. “Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket on the way home tonight.”

Meghan broke her cookie apart and pulled out the fortune. “A package has gone missing from the eagle’s nest. If contact is made, notify me.” It was signed with a familiar J. Meghan’s heart quickened.

Mark frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Seth.” She wondered if Mark could hear her heart thundering in her chest. It pounded so hard he must hear it. “He’s talking about Seth, who disappeared from the Condor two nights ago.”

Mark’s brows rose. “He did? How do you know about that?”

Meghan forced a dry smile. “I’m a communications expert, Mark. I know lots of things.”

To her relief, he seemed to accept her explanation at its face value. He picked up a set of chopsticks and grabbed the carton of chow mein. “I don’t think anyone has to worry about Seth contacting you. Not only do I remember the crime of the century, but I also remember your and Seth’s parting as the divorce of the century.”

“Please, don’t remind me.” Meghan set the note aside and tried to keep the nervous tremble of her hand under control.

“I wish somebody would send me to the Condor for about a month of rest and relaxation.” Mark stuck a mouthful of chow mein into his mouth. “I guess Seth isn’t into vacations.”

“I’m sure Jonah is just checking with all of Seth’s past acquaintances within the organization.” At least that’s what she hoped.

She drew in a deep breath to steady herself. She didn’t like subterfuge of any kind. Damn Seth for getting her involved in this.

Still, she’d been with the agency long enough to know that this note from Jonah indicated a low-priority concern. If Jonah was truly troubled by Seth’s defection from the resort, he wouldn’t be contacting people with notes in food that could be easily tossed away. She would have received a phone call from the man himself.

She relaxed somewhat, certain that Jonah had no idea Seth was presently hiding out in her home. But the note from Jonah filled her with apprehension.

She had to find what Seth needed as quickly as possible. The last thing she’d want to happen was to lose her job because she’d chosen loyalty for a man she’d once believed she’d loved over loyalty to SPEAR.

She’d already lost enough to Seth…. She was determined not to lose anything else because of him.

Chapter 4

Seth stirred the pot of spaghetti sauce that bubbled on the stove, hoping Meghan would be home from work any time. It had been a lousy day. He’d paced the confines of the house like a prisoner in a jail cell, his thoughts his only companion. And his thoughts were not particularly pleasant.

The faces of the men who’d died in the L.A. sting operation haunted him. The scent of smoke and gun-fire lingered in his head, and in that memory, another memory shoved through. It was the distant echo of a tragedy from years before…memories he’d consciously shoved away for almost half his life.

He realized that since the sting, it was as much his distant past haunting him as the more recent catastrophe and he didn’t know why.

He’d spent part of the day in Kirk’s room, running his hand over the blankets that covered his son at night, touching the toys and stuffed animals that were neatly lined up on the shelves of a colorful bookcase.

Maybe Meghan was right. Maybe the best thing he could do for his son was stay out of his life. Who needed a father who was plagued by visions of death, who spent his time dealing with criminal minds and activity? What kind of a father would he be?

His thoughts would carry him down that path, then go full circle and once again he would find himself vowing to be a part of Kirk’s life, telling himself that every little boy needed his father. But no matter how many times he told himself he would be a good father, the doubts returned, niggling in the back of his mind.

He’d finally decided to make dinner, grateful for any activity that momentarily took possession of his mind, keeping troubling thoughts away.

A salad was made and waiting in the refrigerator, the pasta had been boiled—all he needed was for Meghan and Kirk to get home.

He sat at the table, wondering if she’d managed to discover any information for him today. If anyone could pick up signs of Simon’s whereabouts, Meghan could do it. She was incredibly bright and superior at her job.

He stood as he heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. He left the kitchen and met Meghan in the entry hall. Her cheeks were flushed a charming pink from the cold and like the day before, Kirk was snuggled against her chest sound asleep.

“You want me to take him for you?” he offered.

“No. I can handle him,” she replied. She moved past him down the hallway to the nursery.

She didn’t even want him putting the kid to bed. He hadn’t returned here to become a parent, so why was that so much on his mind?

She reappeared a moment later and shrugged out of her coat.

“Here, I’ll take it.” She’d give him her coat, but didn’t trust him with his son, he thought as he hung her garment in the hall closet.

“Something smells good,” she said as they walked to the kitchen.

“Spaghetti sauce.” He gestured her into a chair at the table, then went to the refrigerator and withdrew a bottle of wine.

He knew her routine, knew she wouldn’t eat a bite until she had a glass of wine and unwound a little. He poured them each a glass, then joined her at the table. “Does Kirk always nap at this time?”

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