“I’m not going to have sex with you, Martinez.”

“I didn’t ask you to have sex with me,” he said slowly, but the naturally seductive quality of his voice only tempted her all the more, despite his rather flat denial.

The flame that kindled to life in his eyes further belied his words and made her ache in places too long neglected. “Yes, you did.”

He moved a step nearer to her. “I didn’t ask. I won’t ask.” There was no mistaking the added layer of huskiness in his voice.

“Don’t come any closer,” she warned, though her words were meaningless, since she couldn’t possibly bring herself to move, much less run away.

“Don’t worry, querida, I have no intention of starting anything neither of us wishes to pursue.”

Oh, but she did wish to pursue—that was the whole problem.

Personal Protector
Debra Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debra Webb was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it badly enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually she met and married the man of her dreams and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners, working in a factory, a day-care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985 they were back in the States, and finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mystery and movies for inspiration. In 1998 her dream of writing for Harlequin came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Piper Ryan—The hottest news reporter in Atlanta. A terrorist organization wants her dead. The word is that they have special plans for her.

Ric Martinez—This is his first big Colby Agency assignment. He has to stay focused, but the beautiful and intriguing Piper makes it difficult.

Victoria Colby—The head of the Colby Agency.

Lucas Camp—The deputy director of a highly covert government organization. Piper is his one and only niece.

Jack Raine—A trusted confidant to Victoria and Lucas.

Townsend and Green—FBI agents assigned to Piper Ryan’s security detail.

Dave Sullenger—The news director at WYBN-TV.

Keith—The news desk assistant at WYBN-TV.

Senator Rominski—The president has named him head of the United States’ new antiterrorist organization. He has plans for Piper, as well.

Jacob Watts—Personal assistant to the senator. He wants to make a name for himself.

Alex Preston—One of the Colby Agency’s finest.

Life is what we make it, some say. But in my opinion, life is also about who we are and who we meet along the way. I have been extremely fortunate in my journey, and this book is dedicated to someone who has helped to make my dream of writing come true. She has encouraged me to stretch my imagination and to go where I wasn’t sure I could. This one is for you, Denise O’Sullivan. Thank you so much for your faith and encouragement. You are the very best editor an author could wish for, and a truly wonderful person. It is both my professional and personal privilege to know you.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Prologue

“I hope you’re not leaving out anything relevant, Lucas.” Victoria leveled her gaze on her oldest and dearest friend. That sprinkling of gray at his temples and the sparkle in those devilish gray eyes wreaked havoc with her usual strict control.

Lucas’s smile widened at the implication. “Don’t you trust me, Victoria?” He propped his cane against the arm of his chair and tilted his head, emphasizing his question. A hint of amusement flickered in his eyes.

In blatant skepticism, Victoria arched one eyebrow a fraction higher than the other. “I don’t trust anyone who has worked for the Company and Special Ops as long as you have.”

“Well,” he offered in that smoky voice that did strange things to her ability to think rationally, “I suppose I can’t blame you there. But you know I would never deceive you, Victoria.”

The sound of her name on his lips sent a rush of warmth through her. Yes, she knew he was telling the truth. Lucas would never do anything to hurt her. He had always been there for her, and now she would have one of those rare opportunities to repay him just a little of what she owed.

“All right, then, I believe I have the perfect man for the job.” Victoria pressed the intercom button. “Mildred, please ask Ric Martinez to join this meeting.”

“Martinez?” Lucas frowned. “I don’t think I know him.”

“He’s fairly new,” Victoria agreed. “But he’s good. And he has the right background for the job.”

“Mind if I perform a little screening test of my own?” All signs of amusement had vanished from his expression. “After all, this is my one-and-only niece we’re talking about.”

Victoria shrugged lightly. “Be my guest.”

The door opened and Ric Martinez stepped into the room. Tall, dark and handsome, the man’s Latin good looks combined with his fountain of charm proved valuable assets in this business. Ric Martinez could charm or con anything out of anyone.

Ric’s gaze darted from Victoria to Lucas and back. “You wanted to see me,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

“Yes. Please have a seat.” She gestured to the vacant chair in front of her desk. Before Ric could sit, Lucas made his move.

“Close your eyes, Martinez.” Lucas stood next to Ric now, the barrel of his weapon pressed to the younger man’s temple. Despite his physical handicap, Lucas could still move with more stealth than most when it served his purpose.

Ric’s gaze, still locked on Victoria, widened, then narrowed with suspicion. “What’s going on, man?” he demanded uncertainly.

“Close your eyes,” Lucas snapped.

Victoria gave Ric a nod and he immediately complied. She had no idea what Lucas had in mind, but whatever it was, it would be harmless yet prove immensely telling.

“Okay, man,” Ric said stiffly. “Just stay cool.”

“Oh, I’m cool, Martinez.” The tip of the weapon bored a little deeper into Ric’s skull. “The question is, are you?”

“I’m anything you need me to be.”

“What did you see when you walked into this room?”

His eyes still closed tight, Ric frowned. “What?”

“Give your boss a profile on the man who might just blow your brains out in the next thirty seconds.”

“Black hair, with a bit of gray,” Ric began, his posture considerably more relaxed now that he had an idea what was expected of him. “Fairly tall, lean build. Fifty years old, maybe.” His brow creased in thought. “You have a small scar on your cheek just beneath your right eye. And you obviously use a cane.”

“Anything else?” Lucas barked impatiently.

“Oh, yeah,” Ric continued, in that cocky tone that set him apart from Victoria’s other investigators. “You’re wearing a knockoff watch, a cheap navy blue suit and loafers just like my abuelo used to wear.”

Victoria watched the smile inch its way across Lucas’s grim mouth. She smiled, as well. Lucas was definitely one of a kind. And so was Ric Martinez, the grandfather remark not withstanding.

“All right, Martinez.” Lucas lowered his weapon. “You can have a seat now.” Lucas’s smile widened to a grin when Ric’s annoyed gaze connected with his. “Unless, of course, you need to go change your shorts.”

“I’m cool,” Ric said, grinding the words out as he took the seat she had offered earlier.

“You’re right, Victoria.” Lucas settled back into his own chair. “He is good.”

“Does anyone mind letting me in on the joke?” Ric demanded, irritation clear in his tone. “I knew there was a certain level of risk involved when I signed on,” he said pointedly as he pinned Victoria with that dark gaze. “I just didn’t expect to find it in your office.”

Victoria reined in her smile and adopted a more businesslike expression. “Ric, this is Lucas Camp. He’s with a highly covert special ops organization of which I’m not at liberty to discuss. And he’s a very dear friend of mine.” Disbelief clouded the younger man’s eyes briefly. He probably wondered how she knew a man like Lucas. She knew a great many things that Ric was entirely too new in this business to even fathom.

Ric felt certain he wouldn’t soon forget this meeting. Just who the hell was this guy anyway? Ric shifted his gaze to the man who had held a gun to his head only moments before. Despite his lingering uneasiness, Ric leaned forward and extended his hand. “I would say that it’s a pleasure, Mr. Camp, but I wouldn’t want to lie.”

Lucas shook Ric’s hand firmly. “If you’d said it was, I’d have to change my opinion of you.”

“Ric, I have an assignment that I feel you are particularly suited for,” Victoria said, drawing his attention back to her and away from the man who had seriously annoyed him.

Ric straightened in his chair. Maybe he was finally going to get a real assignment. “That’s great,” he said with a new sense of anticipation. It was well past time that Victoria recognized his potential.

She passed a manila folder to him. “This is Piper Ryan,” Victoria explained. “She’s a news correspondent for WYBN-TV in Atlanta.”

Ric opened the folder as he listened. His gaze instantly riveted to the glossy head shot of a young and extraordinarily beautiful woman. “Whoa! This is one hot number.”

“Piper is Lucas’s niece,” Victoria added pointedly.

Ric’s gut clenched. Damn. He lifted his gaze to meet the death ray Lucas aimed in his direction. “I meant beautiful in a sisterly kind of way.”

Lucas’s intense gaze cut to Victoria. “And you’re certain he’s the best man for the job?”

Ric tensed. Damn. His first big chance and he screws up by sticking his big foot in his mouth.

“Quite certain,” Victoria affirmed.

Relief rushed through him. Maybe he hadn’t stepped too far out of line. “What’s the deal with Pi—Miss Ryan?” he inquired, doing his level best to ignore the daggers still emanating from Lucas’s deadly glare.

“One month ago Piper and five other reporters were invited to a secret press conference for a terrorist group called the Soldiers of the Sovereign Union, or SSU.”

Ric nodded. Though he hadn’t seen Piper on the news, he had watched some of the highly publicized results of the secret press conference. He remembered that the reporters had been blindfolded and taken to some remote location. The leader of the group had hoped to garner sympathy in the press. But what the media had reported was anything but sympathetic to the terrorists’ cause.

“I saw a couple of the news reports,” he told Victoria.

“Then you know that to date three of the reporters have died violent deaths at the hands of these people. The FBI is investigating and is providing protection for the remaining reporters, including Piper.”

“What role will I be playing?”

“Lucas is going to coordinate that part of the setup,” Victoria told him. “With your videographer expertise, I’m certain you will fit right in as Piper’s new cameraman. Your assignment will be to shadow her every step.”

“What about after work hours?”

“I’ve taken care of that, too,” Lucas answered this time. “I arranged for Piper’s next-door neighbor to win a two-week vacation in Hawaii. He left today. You’ll be apartment-sitting, so to speak, while he’s vacationing.”

Ric cocked an eyebrow. “And your niece won’t be suspicious of my sudden appearance in both her professional as well as her personal life?”

Lucas met Ric’s questioning gaze. “My niece is a very busy young woman. She won’t waste time wondering anything about you.”

Ignoring the blatant attempt to take him down a couple of notches, Ric smiled politely. “Good.” He rubbed at his chin a moment, his gaze lingering on the older man’s. “It does seem rather strange to me though that you don’t trust the FBI to take care of your niece. Any particular reason?”

Victoria cleared her throat in warning. He was pushing it here.

“I didn’t survive so long in this business without taking extra precautions, Martinez. I never leave anything to chance.”

“Does the FBI have anyone inside?” Ric asked, effectively moving past the nerve he had obviously just hit.

“They have a man in the SSU.” Lucas propped his hand on his cane. “And I have someone special waiting to provide you with any backup you may require.”

“Jack Raine has come out of retirement,” Victoria added for clarification. “He’s the best there is. You can count on him.” She glanced at Lucas. “Though I am surprised you talked him into taking time away from his wife and new son.”

Ric remembered Jack Raine well. His case was legendary around here.

“The bottom line, Martinez,” Lucas interjected, “is that I want someone watching my niece who has no political stake in any of this.” He shifted in his chair, looking directly at Ric now. “I want you to eat, sleep and breathe Piper Ryan until I can stop these bastards.”

“I can do that,” Ric assured him.

“I hope so, Martinez.” Lucas leveled a warning gaze on him. “Because I’m counting on you personally to keep my niece safe. Don’t let me down.”

Ric met his lethal glare. “Trust me, Mr. Camp. Keeping Piper Ryan safe will be a walk in the park.”

Chapter One

“I am so late,” Piper Ryan muttered irritably. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she stared at the endless lines of cars sitting bumper-to-bumper in all three lanes going in her direction. She hated morning rush hour.

Especially on Mondays.

Particularly when she was already late.

The never-ending construction in this swiftly growing area of downtown Atlanta only magnified the undesirable situation. The fact that it was nearly ninety degrees at 9:00 a.m. didn’t help. August dog days were as hot as Hades in the good old South. A little much-needed rain would be nice about now. Anything to cool things off. She had to admit that the one saving grace of this time of year was the beautiful blooming crepe myrtles. And the glossy-leafed magnolias, she added on second thought. They were still lovely, too. A few blooms managed to hang on here and there.

She glanced at her rearview mirror in search of a much more unattractive feature of her life these days. The dark, nondescript sedan that shadowed her every move was three cars back and in the right-hand lane. Piper doubted she was the only one complaining about traffic this morning. The two FBI agents assigned as her security detail were likely less than happy at the moment, as well. Knowing they were there was definitely a comfort, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

Puffing out a burst of frustration, she relaxed more fully into her seat and watched the stalled cluster of disorganization in front of her. Life in the big city, she mused. Wasn’t it just the other day that she had boasted on how she thrived on the excitement and energy of living in one of the fastest growing cities in America today?

Discounting traffic, she should have qualified.

Maybe she would finally get to inch forward when the flagman snapped out of his trance. Assuming he ever did. Piper was relatively certain it was past time for this side of the street to have a turn at moving forward. Anytime now, horns would start blowing and angry shouts would erupt among the sweltering, impatient drivers. Engines weren’t the only things heating up on days like these.

The sound of someone attempting to open her car door jerked Piper’s attention to the driver’s side window. Her gaze collided with the black barrel of a pistol. She blinked, uncertain for a moment that she was actually seeing what her brain told her she was. Seemingly in slow motion she lifted her gaze up to the cold, determined eyes of a man who stared at her with complete, unadulterated hatred.

Before the scream could rip from her throat, a big body, unidentifiable but decidedly male, slammed into the man holding the gun. The loud report of the weapon and the shattering of glass echoed around Piper. Fear wrapped around her and squeezed the air out of her lungs.

“Go!” a male voice commanded.

Without thought, her foot slammed onto the accelerator and her car lurched forward. Expecting to hear the crunch of metal as she plowed into the next vehicle, Piper snapped her attention to the cars in front of her. They were moving. Thank God.

Her heart pounded so hard she could hardly catch her breath. Blood roared in her ears. She glanced down at her side mirror and saw the two men struggling on the pavement’s center line between the two lanes of moving traffic. What if the man who saved her was hit by a car? And who the hell was he? He definitely wasn’t one of the Feds who shadowed her. Just as she reached for her cell phone to call 9-1-1, a charcoal-gray sedan screeched to a sideways halt a couple of cars behind her, stopping the flow of traffic in the two inside lanes.

The FBI agents, easily recognized by their trademark dark suits and sunglasses, bounded out of the car and moved in on the men still rolling around on the pavement.

It was okay now. Piper released a long, shaky breath. You’re okay, she told herself as she drove on. Damn, that was too close. Her uncle Lucas would have a cow when he heard about this.

She wanted to scream. She couldn’t even drive to work without someone approaching her. Of course, if there hadn’t been so much construction and such a lack of organization, she wouldn’t have been stalled in that spot long enough for the incident to occur.

The image of the flagman who’d held up her side of the street so long, and the possibility that he’d been a part of it broadsided her.

“Stay calm, girl,” she said aloud, reaching for any remaining inner strength she could find. But the last month had taken its toll on her ability to face this insanity. There was no way to recognize her enemy. It could be anyone. She shivered. “Don’t let them win,” she murmured fiercely, and clenched her teeth against the fear. She would not fall apart now. Later, when she was at home and alone she would let it out. But not now. She had a job to do.

As she slowed to turn into WYBN-TV’s lot, Piper felt the rage begin to boil inside her, temporarily burning away her gripping terror. She would not let them win. She would not be a prisoner in her own home or in some safe house the way her uncle wanted.

No one was going to take her life away from her.

No one.

The blistering anger fueling her shaky bravado, Piper parked in the secure parking garage beneath the station and emerged from her car. She sighed, disgusted, at the shattered window. She did love her little red sports car. Calling the insurance company and a repair shop would be the first order of business this morning. But at least she wasn’t in an ambulance on her way to the emergency room. The memory of her unknown savior filled her mind. She hoped he wasn’t hurt.

Now, if only there was a way to keep this harrowing event from her uncle and her boss, she considered as she strode toward the stairwell and the security guard waiting there.

But there was no point in trying to keep it a secret. One of her relentless FBI agents had likely already called in the incident to her uncle. Dave probably already knew, as well, considering the guard waiting patiently for her.

Smiling, the man politely opened the door and then followed her in. Defeat weighed heavy on her shoulders as she climbed the stairs leading into the newsroom. Three of the reporters who had attended the doomed press conference were dead already; she and two others remained. Maybe Uncle Lucas was right. The image of that long black barrel flickered before her eyes. Maybe she should go into hiding until it was over.

“No way,” she muttered. Piper lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “No damn way.”

“STOP RIGHT THERE,” Piper instructed as she studied the images on the monitor. “Now go to the skyline and fade.”

“You got it.” Ned’s nimble fingers flew over the keys and the scene ended just as Piper had envisioned it, complete with her voice-over. The story was timed and ready for broadcast.

“Perfect.” She pushed out of her seat, satisfaction sighing through her. “Dave wants to run that package at noon today. Kind of as a teaser for tonight’s prime-time spot.”

“I’ll get it to him ASAP.” Ned smiled up at her. “Great job, Piper. The audience is going to eat it up.”

“Thanks.” She gave Ned an appreciative pat on the shoulder. “I’ll tell Jones you approve. I couldn’t have done it without him.”

“Jones is definitely top-notch,” Ned agreed. “And so are you.”

Pride welled in Piper as she strode across the WYBN-TV newsroom. Jones was the best cameraman, videographer, he would remind her, in the business. They had worked as a team since her first day as a naive but hungry reporter almost four years ago. Dave, the news director, had made a good choice when he’d teamed the two of them, and Piper would be forever grateful. No matter how hard a good reporter worked, if she and her cameraman weren’t in synch or if they simply didn’t mesh, the results could be disastrous for a fledgling media career.

If this piece on the problems with the ever-growing local gangs garnered the attention she felt certain it would, Piper would owe Jones dinner at Ray’s. She smiled. A table at Ray’s with a view of the Chattahoochee River would be a far cry from the drive-through cuisine they usually grabbed on the run to a breaking news scene. There was never time to waste in this business. Dave’s motto was News Happens Now, and he was a firm believer in not allowing the moment to pass.

Ringing telephones and the buzz of conversation underscored the steady hum of newsroom activity. Several twenty-four-hour news shows were currently showing on the overhead monitors. The new desk assistant raced around with his notepad delivering phone messages and instructions from the news director. Reporters shuffled papers around on their desks to find a clean space on which to write the passed-on information. Piper felt herself smiling again. This was the heart of the station. No matter what the prime-time anchor would say, or anyone in any other department, the lifeblood of WYBN flowed right here in this room with the beat reporters.

And Piper Ryan was incredibly grateful to be a part of it. According to her agent, her recent notoriety beyond the local viewing area was the first step in moving up the ladder. Dave wouldn’t be able to keep her much longer. And she would surely miss this place. Her agent was already feeling out larger markets. But she would not go anywhere that Jones couldn’t go with her. They were a package deal. She might be Atlanta’s “sweetheart,” but Jones was the one who captured it all on film for the world to see. Dave Sullenger would just have to be prepared to lose them both.

No two ways about it.

“Piper!”

Speak of the devil, Piper glanced toward the news director’s office. He waved from the open door, motioning for her to join him. They’d already had their Monday-morning staff meeting; surely nothing had changed in the last hour. She hadn’t mentioned why she’d been late, and was more than a little surprised he hadn’t questioned her. She supposed that the Feds had decided to follow their own chain of command. And she could see no point in sending Dave’s blood pressure into the red this early in the morning. He’d hear about it soon enough, she felt certain. As soon as the Feds had relayed the event to Lucas, he would call Dave and rant at him again for allowing Piper to continue working the territory.

She pushed the thought away. She had to find Jones and head out. She had an interview set up with several families residing in Hope Place, the area currently suffering from serious gang problems. Next week it would be another block near that same area. It was an ever-evolving situation. But this time someone was trying to make a difference, trying to break that never-ending cycle.

Thus, a serious, in-depth look into the increasing gang problems in Atlanta’s less fortunate areas had been born. Piper planned for the story to include about five segments. And hopefully, call enough official attention to the issue to get something done. In an effort to help themselves, the families in the area now hit with the most strife had formed a neighborhood watch, which was good, but they needed far more help from local law enforcement. If telling the ugly truth on the news would get the residents that attention, Piper would take it as far as she could.

“What’s up?” Piper paused at her boss’s door and waited expectantly for whatever it was he wanted to say.

“There’s a situation we need to discuss that I didn’t want to bring up in this morning’s staff meeting.”

Dave looked too serious. He had that you’re-not-going-to-like-what-I’m-about-to-tell-you air about him. Tension raced up Piper’s spine. “What kind of situation?”

“Jones had to take an emergency leave. He’ll be out of town for a couple of weeks.”

Piper blinked, taken aback. “But I just talked to Jones last night. He didn’t mention anything to me then.”

“He didn’t know until this morning. It’s a personal family issue that he didn’t want to discuss at length. So he left for Detroit on the first available flight this morning.”

It must have been really urgent for Jones to leave without so much as a quick call to Piper. She couldn’t remember him ever doing that before. They were more than co-workers. They were friends. “I should call and see if there’s anything I can do,” she said more to herself than to Dave.

“I’m—I’m not sure that would be a good idea,” Dave hemmed and hawed. “Jones gave me the impression that it was a very private matter and that he would call us when he could.”

Piper flared her hands in a gesture of bewilderment. The whole thing sounded entirely too clandestine and made absolutely no sense at all. “Well, okay, if that’s the way it has to be.”

“In the meantime I’ve got a new cameraman for you,” Dave went on. At Piper’s distressed expression, he added, “Don’t worry. He’s only temporary until Jones gets back.”

“I didn’t know we had any new temps.” Piper tried to stay on top of personnel changes at the station. It made life easier when you needed something in a hurry. And she was relatively certain that no new faces had appeared recently. Well, other than the desk assistant, but he’d been there a couple of weeks already. Tech support personnel were usually replaced by temps who had understudied to the point that their ability to do the job could be counted on. It was the first rule of the station’s manager.

“I interviewed the guy just a few minutes ago,” Dave explained. “Here he is now.” The news director shifted his gaze beyond Piper. “Martinez, I’d like to introduce you to Piper Ryan.”

Great, just what she needed, some hotshot off the street. Piper turned to greet WYBN’s newest staff member. She felt her mouth drop open the moment her gaze lit on the guy in question, but she was too stunned to snap it shut again. A tall, extraordinarily handsome man walked slowly toward her. His hair was short and raven’s-wing black. A square jaw and chiseled features lent masculinity to a face that was most accurately described by the word perfection. And then there was that body. Piper felt the air rush out of her lungs as her gaze moved over that awesome body. Broad, broad shoulders were covered in one of those black silk shirts that wasn’t tucked into his black, loose-fitting trousers, the cutting edge of fashion. The man looked as if he’d just stepped off the cover of GQ.

He definitely did not look anything like any cameraman Piper had ever met. To make matters worse, the closer he came to her, the more convinced she grew that he knew just exactly how handsome he was, too. Confidence screamed in every move that lithe, muscular frame made. His walk, his posture, every part of him exuded blatant, cocky male attitude and a kind of smooth rhythm that made her mouth go dry. But it wasn’t until he stopped directly in front of her that Piper was certain of her assumption. It was right there in those dark, devastatingly alluring eyes that said, Close your mouth, baby, ’cause I already know just how good I look.

This man didn’t belong behind a camera, Piper protested silently. He belonged in front of one decked out in Ralph Lauren’s latest. Either that or on MTV belting out a Latin pop song and showing off that to-die-for body and the seductive moves he could no doubt execute. But he damned sure didn’t look like a cameraman Piper wanted to drag around Atlanta for the next two weeks. And if his ego in any way compared to the attitude that emanated from every square inch of his unbelievable body, she wasn’t sure it would fit into the WYBN-TV news van.

“Ric Martinez,” the Latin hunk said smoothly, then extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ryan.” Just a hint of south-of-the-border flavor accented his rich baritone.

Several seconds passed before Piper had the presence of mind to place her hand in his, and when she did, she lost whatever ground she had gained. Long fingers curled around her hand, sending a shiver through her, followed immediately by a flash of heat.

“Could you excuse me, please, Mr. Martinez?” she said abruptly, yanking her hand back with equal suddenness. Swiping her tingling palm against her hip, Piper rounded on her boss and ushered him backward into his office. She waited for the door to close behind them before she spoke.

“You can’t be serious,” she demanded in a stage whisper.

Dave frowned, then glanced at Martinez who waited outside the glass walls of his office. “I don’t see the problem,” he countered as his concerned gaze came back to rest on Piper’s. “Hell, he’s more than qualified. I called every single one of his references before I even interviewed him.”

Piper immediately suppressed the ridiculous quivering her insides seemed determined to do at the mere thought of that…that…Martinez. “Look at how he’s dressed.” Piper stole a glance at the tall, handsome man waiting patiently outside the office. “He looks like he’s about to stride down a fashion runway or pick up a hot Saturday night date, but he definitely doesn’t look like a cameraman. At least not my cameraman.” Jeans and T-shirts were Jones’s favorite fashion statement.

Dave’s brow furrowed with impatience. He hated conflict. Especially among the members of his staff, temporary or not. “You know I’ve never dictated dress unless you’re in front of the camera. So the guy’s a little flashy. What’s the big deal?”

“Flashy?” Piper lowered her voice an octave. “He looks like…a high-priced gigolo.” A heart-stunningly good-looking one, she had to admit. She squared her shoulders, her irritation building as the possible complications related to her new cameraman piled one on top of the other in her whirling thoughts. “This isn’t going to work. Can you see me walking around Hope Place with him strutting along beside me? How will I ever get anyone’s attention? They’ll all be looking at Lover Boy as if he were the last loaf of bread on the shelf before a winter blizzard. This isn’t going to work.”

Instantly, as if she’d said something completely hilarious, a broad grin spread over Dave’s thin face. He glanced Martinez’s way once more, then settled a knowing gaze on Piper. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid this slick guy will get more attention than you?”

Piper seethed at his remark. She bit back the first retort that came to mind. After all, Dave was her boss. And her friend. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. You know that isn’t what I meant.”

Dave narrowed an accusing gaze at her then. “If you think you can’t handle yourself around him…” He shrugged noncommittally. “I mean, if you think there’s some sort of unprofessional attraction that might—”

Her drop-dead glare stopped him cold. “You don’t want to go there,” she warned. She had a contract and a high-powered agent. For that matter, she had definite seniority. She shouldn’t have to do this if she felt uncomfortable. She definitely wasn’t going to be accused of…whatever Dave had just accused her of.

A weary breath huffed from her boss as he passed a hand over his face. “Look, it’s only for two weeks. Besides it’s out of my hands.” Dave sagged onto the arm of a nearby chair. “Martinez must be related somehow to the station manager since he instructed me to hire the guy.”

Piper rolled her eyes. This just kept getting better and better. “Great. So I’m supposed to baby-sit the Casanova for two weeks while he learns the ropes of his long-lost relative’s business.” She threw up her hands. “That’s just perfect. It isn’t bad enough that I’ve got the Feds tailing me everywhere I go, now I have to entertain Mr. Too Sexy.” She glowered at Dave, some of her resolve crumbling as the memory of this morning’s episode nudged at her. She refused to think about it. If she let that slip back into her thoughts now she would definitely lose it. She had to be strong. “He’s just not going to work, Dave. His whole—” she searched for the right words “—persona just isn’t right, especially the attire.”

Dave tugged at his tie. “He looks fine to me. What do you want him to wear? A three-piece suit? It’s August, for Pete’s sake.”

Piper fell silent as the unbidden image of Martinez wearing an elegant suit filled her mind. Another wave of heat that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with sexual awareness washed over her, irritating her all the more.

“Just try to get along with him, okay?” Dave pleaded. “I’d like to keep my job a little longer.”

Banishing the infuriating images from her head, Piper straightened her lightweight rayon jacket and adopted the “calm in a storm” attitude for which she was known. It was only for a couple of weeks. She could deal with it. There was no point in making Dave miserable, too.

“Fine. I’m sure he’ll do an adequate job until Jones returns,” she relented.

“His credentials are impeccable,” Dave reiterated hopefully.

Piper manufactured a halfhearted smile for her boss. This wasn’t his fault. As long as he made sure Jones got his job back when he returned, she would be happy. She could do anything for two weeks. “Well, we’ll just be on our way then.”

“Piper.”

She hesitated before turning to the door. “Yes.”

Dave’s gaze searched hers. “I really want you to be careful out there. Martinez has been briefed on the situation, but I’m worried about you. You know it would make me feel a lot better if you stuck close to the station until this is over.”

If he heard about this morning…

“Who’s to say it’ll ever really be over?” she argued. “I’m not going to stop living my life or stop being who I am because some scumbag terrorist has decided to sentence me to death.” She smiled, a genuine smile this time. Dave cared and she appreciated that. They were like family here at WYBN. “Don’t worry, boss. That’s what the Feds are for. Let them worry about keeping me safe. Lord knows they’re never far away.” Of course they had been a little too far away this morning, but it wasn’t their fault.

Piper frowned. Who the heck was the guy who’d saved her? Just a passing Good Samaritan? That seemed a little too unlikely. She dismissed the question. Probably another federal agent, or maybe one of her uncle’s friends. She was quite certain Lucas was leaving nothing to chance.

After giving Dave a quick pat on the arm, Piper started for the door again. “Everything’s going to be fine,” she assured him. All she had to do was stay alert. This morning was a perfect example of not keeping up her guard and allowing too much distance between herself and her designated protection.

“Don’t give Martinez too hard a time,” Dave tossed out, again slowing her departure. “I have a feeling there’s more to him than that flashy exterior.”

“Let’s hope so.” She hated that Martinez was now privvy to her personal situation, but she supposed it was only fair. As if fairness had anything to do with any of this.

RIC BREATHED a sigh of relief when Piper exited the news director’s office and actually made eye contact with him. He’d been worried there for a minute that she was going to put up a fuss about accepting him as her new partner. But he doubted she could be any more upset than her regular cameraman. The guy had been royally ticked off at having to take this little unplanned vacation. Ric checked the smile that twitched his lips. Lucas Camp could be a very persuasive man.

Piper glanced at her watch, then at Ric. “We have a ten-o’clock shoot. We’d better be on our way.”

“My equipment’s in the van already.”

She just looked at him for a moment, then said, “Fine.”

Okay, Ric decided, time for him to turn on some of his own persuasive powers. He wasn’t about to risk screwing up this assignment. If Piper Ryan thought he couldn’t do the job her regular cameraman did, he’d just have to prove her wrong. And he would win her over. Ric allowed the smile to slide across his lips then. Oh, yeah, he hadn’t met a woman yet he couldn’t charm. This one would be no different.

His course of action settled, Ric followed Piper through the newsroom and down the stairwell into the parking garage. The two FBI guys assigned to her moved ahead of them to check the garage and the WYBN news van. To his surprise, Piper had carefully masked any lingering fear from this morning’s little drama. Ric couldn’t help but wonder if she was as tough as she pretended to be. It took one tough cookie to face death and then walk away as if nothing had happened.

He also decided that Piper looked even better in person. The sway of her hips was seductive in a very elemental way, as was her manner of dress. She didn’t exploit her feminine assets, yet she couldn’t hide the exquisite attributes that had no doubt helped along her television career. That conservative suit did little to hide her sexuality. She was definitely hot.

And her hair, almost as dark as his own, hugged her neck in one of those swingy styles that looked sophisticated yet sexy. But the eyes were the most notable of her features. As blue as a clear summer sky. The kind of startling blue that you never expected on a brunette. When she looked at him, heat went right through him. Which was intriguing but most definitely out of bounds. Ric felt with a fair measure of certainty that that little point would prove the most difficult to keep in mind. The attraction was there, but he couldn’t act on it. Not the way he wanted to anyway. This was an assignment, and even if it wasn’t, Lucas Camp would probably kill him for thinking even remotely carnal thoughts about his niece if he ever found out.

End of subject.

“Hope Place is just off Memorial Drive.” Piper pulled the passenger side door open as she spoke. “If we hurry we’ll get there in time to get some footage before the interview.”

“Just tell me which way to go.” He started to close the door after her.

“You don’t know the way?” A surprised and openly accusing gaze collided with his.

“This is my first day in Atlanta,” he said with a confident smile. “But I’m a fast learner.”

Piper blinked those amazing eyes, but failed to conceal her utter disbelief. “You are kidding, right?” She laughed, a kind of startled sound. “Surely you can’t mean that you don’t know your way around this town.” The disbelief turned to something resembling outright panic when he didn’t immediately respond. “Oh, God, you’re serious. You’re completely lost.”

Ric delivered one of the megawatt smiles that usually got him anywhere he wanted. “Don’t sweat it, querida. I won’t let you down.”

Outrage kindled in her eyes, searing away the panic.

Before she realized his intent, Ric reached up and traced the line of annoyance marring her smooth forehead. “You’re much too pretty to frown like that, querida.”

He moved back a step when she bounded out of the van to stand toe-to-toe with him. Fury blazed in those blue eyes now. She jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “Let’s get this straight right now, Martinez. I am not your querida or any other pet name in your vast ‘charm’ vocabulary. You will refer to me by name or you won’t refer to me at all. And you will keep your hands to yourself. ¿Comprende?”

Ric braced one hand on the open door and the other on the van, effectively trapping her. Then he leaned in close. Very close. He smiled when she held her ground in spite of the flicker of uncertainty he saw in her eyes. The emotion was banished behind that slick, professional veneer she wore as swiftly as it appeared.

“Comprende,” he said softly.

He didn’t miss the little hitch that disrupted her breathing. Before he drew back, Ric took his time studying her eyes, her cute little turned-up nose and then her lush velvety lips. He could smell the barest hint of perfume, something subtle and entirely too enticing. This close he could see the tiny, almost imperceptible scar on her delicate chin. He wanted to know what caused it, and even more, he wanted to touch it. But that would be a big mistake. Reluctantly he drew back from her personal space.

“After you.” He indicated the seat she had abandoned.

Piper blinked then turned away from him. Once she had climbed back into her seat, Ric closed the door firmly behind her and headed to the other side of the van. Miss Ryan might think she was tough, but she wasn’t. Ric had her number already. Spoiled little rich girl. She might be the hottest thing going on local television here in Atlanta, but outside the state of Georgia she was just another wannabe. And if he had her pegged right she usually got her way. But then she’d never tangoed with Ric Martinez.

He grinned as he climbed behind the wheel of the WYBN-TV news van. He had every intention of keeping the upper hand. Just like he told her uncle, this assignment was going to be a walk in the park.

He started the van and turned to his silent companion. “Which way?”

She settled back into her seat but kept her gaze straight ahead. “Left out of the parking lot.” She turned to him then and smiled sweetly—too sweetly. “I’ll tell you the rest on the way. You have twenty minutes.”

“Don’t sweat it, boss lady. I’ll get you there.”

Ric stomped the accelerator, burning rubber as he exited the garage. This was going to be a walk in the park all right, but definitely not the park he’d had in mind.

Once he merged with the flow of traffic on the street, he stole an assessing glance at his assignment. If it was a war of wills Miss Ryan had in mind, Ric could teach her a thing or two about perseverance. This was one time the pretty lady was not going to get her way.

And he was going to enjoy every moment of teaching her how to compromise.

Chapter Two

As her new cameraman snapped on his utility belt and then gathered his equipment, Piper scanned Hope Place to determine which shots of the housing area she wanted Martinez to take. Unlike her relationship with Jones, she would likely have to tell this guy each and every pan of the camera. Piper tamped down the irritation that wanted to bubble up inside her yet again. She had promised Dave that she would get along with this guy and she would. If only he wasn’t so damned cocky. Martinez obviously had his share of testosterone and someone else’s, too.

Her two G-men shadows stayed in the background, but still close. For the first time since this whole thing started, she was immensely grateful for their presence. Although it had been a stranger who saved her this morning, she knew the two federal agents were highly trained and dedicated. Piper was at fault for not taking their presence more seriously. She should have been more careful not to get too far ahead of them. The way she darted in and out of traffic, how could she expect them to stay on her tail where they belonged?

She pushed away the memory of staring into the business end of that handgun. She couldn’t think about that right now—it would only undermine her sense of control. And currently it was tenuous at best. The Feds would take care of the police report, relieving her of the hassle and still satisfying the requirements of her insurance company. Sometimes it paid to have an uncle in the right place.

Martinez pivoted and hoisted the camera onto his shoulder. The turn drew Piper’s gaze to his rhythmic movements. She frowned as she considered what exactly it was that captured her attention. There was something vaguely familiar about the way he moved. But that was impossible. She didn’t know the man, had never even seen him before their introduction outside Dave’s office only an hour ago.

Still, something niggled at her. Piper dismissed the distraction and turned her attention back to the business at hand. She had an interview to do. Six residents had agreed to speak out on camera against the increasing violence in their neighborhood. And that was no small thing, as Piper was well aware. Retaliation was a definite possibility. She knew it and so did the half-dozen people who had asked for the opportunity. Piper would never have asked anyone to purposely put themselves in danger. Her last segment had been based on what she referred to as anonymous tips. But the people of Hope Place had decided it was time to stand up for their rights and make their intentions known.

Hope Place had been built just over ten years ago in a goodwill effort by the city’s mayor at the time to offer affordable housing to low-income families. It had been well received and had helped numerous families. In Piper’s opinion, the mayor’s appointed planning committee’s one oversight had been not proposing strong clean-up steps for the nearby crime-ridden neighborhoods. Eventually those problems had crept into the new housing area, a seemingly unstoppable epidemic.

“Tell me how you want it, boss lady,” Martinez said smoothly, his smile quick, the flicker of insinuation in his eyes even quicker as he moved in her direction.

He made the request sound intimate…sexual.

“My name is Piper,” she reminded him firmly.

“Piper,” he acquiesced, adding emphasis and a sultry tone to the one word so that she shivered at the sound. “I’ll try to remember that.”

He was too handsome, too close and too darned infuriating. Piper stepped back. “Why don’t you tell me how you would do it, Martinez?”

He inclined his head in acceptance of her clear challenge. “My pleasure.”

She wanted to rant at him. She wanted to hit him. Piper blinked. But mostly she just wanted to touch him and see if he felt as hot as he looked.

Damn. She hated this crazy attraction.

“Sweep the block,” he suggested solemnly with a wave of one massive hand. Junked automobiles and battered trash cans lined the street. “Zero in on the run-down high-rises, and the laundry hanging from the lines outside the windows, then the cluttered alleyways.” He took his time surveying the area once more. A scrawny cat peeked from behind one of the dead cars and then scurried away. “That about sums it up, I think.”

Gone was the easy smile and the teasing glimmer in those dark eyes. Piper saw the glimpse of sadness before he closed his expression. She frowned. Surely Mr. I’m-too-sexy-for-my-own-good wasn’t the sentimental type. Before Piper could make a decision on that possibility, the voice of Mr. Jackson, one of her interviewees, called out to her as he and the other residents he’d rounded up ambled closer.

“That sounds good, Martinez,” she told him before turning away. It actually sounded better than good; it was precisely what she would have said herself. But she wasn’t about to admit it and give him one more thing to enlarge that already-overblown ego.

“Whatever your heart desires, querida.”

Piper ignored the extrafoolish beat of her heart that invariably accompanied his persistent use of the Spanish endearment. She absolutely would not let this cocky Casanova get under her skin.

“THE SITUATION IS under control, Mr. Camp.” Ric kicked off his shoes as he crossed the living room of his temporary apartment to lower the volume on the television. “No, man, I’m telling you I was on top of the situation.”

Ric blew out a breath as Lucas Camp continued to re-hash this morning’s events on the other end of the line. Jack Raine had been poised from his point position to take out the guy with the gun, but Martinez had gotten to him first. Which was okay with all concerned since it left Raine in an anonymous position and the would-be shooter alive to be interrogated. But Lucas Camp hadn’t been happy that the bastard had gotten that close to his niece without encountering resistance. Outside of forcing Piper to ride in a bulletproof vehicle, there wasn’t any way to prevent the same thing from happening again. And she refused to change her routine. Allowing the Feds to follow her around was the extent of her concession.

If she discovered that her dear old uncle had not one, but two, additional personal protectors in place, she would likely go berserk. The woman had no intention of making Ric’s job easy. She was dead set on maintaining her normal routine. As much as he hated to admit it, Ric respected her for her courage.

Most, male or female, would have cowered in fear under much less threatening circumstances. But not Piper Ryan. She didn’t intend to let the bad guys win. As risky as it was, she wasn’t backing down in the least. A smile slid across Ric’s face. She was one tough lady for a spoiled little rich girl. He suddenly wondered what events in her life had given her that much backbone. He doubted she would ever share anything that personal with him, but his respect for her had grown somewhat today. She wasn’t just another pretty face on the television screen.

“She doesn’t know it was me,” Ric assured him when Lucas asked if Piper had recognized him outside her car that morning. “My cover is intact. She thinks I’m some sort of Casanova.”

Definitely the wrong thing to say. Ric regretted using the term immediately. “No, man, I am not flirting with your niece,” Ric lied. As far as he could tell, flirting with Piper Ryan was the only way he’d found to throw her off guard, to make real contact. She clearly did not allow anyone close. He wondered about that. She was young, beautiful and wildly popular with the viewing audience. But on a personal level, an introvert if he’d ever seen one.

“Yes, sir, I won’t take my eyes off her,” he said in response to Camp’s final warning. Ric punched the off button on his cell phone and tossed it onto the sofa. The man Ric had tackled this morning had no previous record, and he wasn’t talking. Since he didn’t sport the usual shield tattoo on his right bicep, there was no way to know if SSU had sent him, or if he was somehow related to the gang series Piper was doing. Or, hell, he could just be a nut case trying to make the evening news. Whatever his motivation, the threat had been neutralized. Lucas was royally ticked that he couldn’t talk Piper into going into seclusion. Prior to calling Ric, he had apparently spent the last thirty minutes trying to convince her to take a leave of absence from her work.

“You’re one headstrong lady, querida,” Ric murmured distractedly as he unbuttoned his shirt. He’d ruined one of his favorite shirts this morning, and had to change before he got to the station. He shouldered out of his shirt and tossed it onto the back of the sofa, then started to unfasten his slacks when Piper’s face on the screen grabbed his attention. The segment lasted less than four minutes but it was very good. Ric gave himself a mental pat on the back for his videography. He unzipped his pants and headed for the bathroom. He supposed he could always be a cameraman if Lucas Camp got him fired from the Colby Agency for flirting with his niece. A vision, including her pretty face, especially those lush lips, instantly loomed large in his mind.

Ric needed a shower. If he couldn’t keep his thoughts away from the woman next door, it might be in his best interest to take a cold shower. The signal was set loudly enough that if Piper decided to leave her apartment while he was in the shower, Ric would hear the alarm. But she wasn’t scheduled to go anywhere for another hour. He had time. And since he couldn’t keep his eyes on her every waking moment without blowing his cover, he’d had to wire her apartment to ensure he knew her every move—or anyone else’s who might try to go through the Feds and enter the premises.

Considering his sore shoulder, he opted for the hot shower after all. The pavement had been hard, and his shoulder had taken the brunt of the fall when he’d slammed into the guy with the gun aimed at Piper. Ric scrubbed his hands through his hair and allowed the relaxing spray to flow over his tense muscles. The image of Piper Ryan, all five feet four curvy inches of her, filled his head once more. He had not expected the physical attraction between them to be so fierce. He’d thoroughly read her file. She’d grown up in the lap of luxury, was educated at a fancy private college and had all but been an overnight television success. Atlanta’s sweetheart.

The complete opposite in every way with Ric’s upbringing. He’d grown up in the Projects on the south side of Chicago. He’d had to fight his way out of that barrio, and only the kind of drive and fortitude borne of desperation and alien to the likes of Piper Ryan had saved him. In her world she stood head and shoulders above the rest when it came to determination and courage, but she wouldn’t last five minutes in the world he’d known as a kid.

Ric leaned against the cool tile wall and forced that old bitterness from his thoughts. He wasn’t envious of people like Piper, only impatient with their way of thinking. He knew what she probably thought about him. Though she was physically attracted to him, she saw him as a lesser person somehow because they hadn’t attended the same Ivy League schools, because he wasn’t the refined gentleman with whom she preferred to associate.

He swore at his foolish reverie and shut off the spray of water. It wasn’t Piper’s fault she’d had it all as a kid, no more than it was his that he hadn’t. And Ric had no intention of letting that old chip climb back onto his shoulder. He had a job to do. Protecting the princess next door. This was an up-close-and-personal assignment and he would simply have to get over the social differences between them. He could be judging her too harshly. He knew better than to fit her into the same mold with the types he’d been forced to tolerate in his youth. It was just as wrong as those who’d lumped him in with every bad boy in his neighborhood.

Ric shook his head. Hell, he thought he’d gotten over that inferiority complex long ago. The past was just that; he couldn’t change it…didn’t want to really. Those tough years had made him a better man. He didn’t like being judged based on how others from the barrio had failed, no more than he was certain Piper would want to be held accountable for what some of her royal crowd had turned into.

The high-pitched tone of the motion detector warned him that the subject of his contemplation had just opened her door. Ric hissed a curse and quickly wrapped a towel around his waist. She wasn’t supposed to make a move for at least another forty-five minutes. Piper’s neighbor had worried that he’d promised to attend some sort of charity function with her tonight. Camp had told him he would take care of informing Piper of the sudden change in plans. It would be just Ric’s luck that Piper had decided she needed a pair of panty hose or something, which would require her to leave early.

Before he could consider what the hell he would say to stop her from going anywhere without him, he had bounded to the door, unlocked it and jerked it open. To his surprise Piper stood directly in front of him wearing a tight little black dress that barely hit midthigh. Very sexy high-heeled shoes and definitely no panty hose. Whatever he’d decided to say left him the moment his brain assimilated all that he saw.

For the second time today, Piper stood gawking at Ric Martinez. Only, this time he wasn’t wearing that slick mix of silk and rayon attire. This time he was naked, save for the towel carelessly slung around his hips. Water droplets clung to his golden skin, some slipping down muscled terrain that did strange things to her insides. His hair was damp too, she noted, when at last she could tear her gaze away from that truly incredible bare chest.

The shower. He’d been in the shower. But she hadn’t even knocked on his door. Had she? Piper shook her head to clear the fog there.

Reality abruptly kicked in. What was he doing in Mr. Rizzoli’s apartment?

And why was he staring at her like that?

When his gaze finally connected with hers, desire flashed in his eyes. The bottom dropped out of her stomach, then flip-flopped when she considered that he must see the same thing in her eyes. Piper blinked and squared her shoulders in an attempt to mask her runaway response to the man.

“What are you doing here? Where’s Mr. Rizzoli?”

Why hadn’t she noticed before the perfect cut of Martinez’s nose in proportion with his chiseled jaw? Or that sexy cleft in his chin?

Her cameraman. They worked together. She wasn’t supposed to notice things like that about a co-worker. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way about a man she had absolutely nothing in common with, and didn’t even like for that matter. Especially one that infuriated her to the extent Martinez did. But those unbelievably wide shoulders and that amazing face…mercy, she was losing her perspective altogether. A plausible excuse bloomed in Piper’s mind, sending relief soaring through her.

Sex. It was about sex. She hadn’t…in, she concentrated hard, in almost a year. Her eyes widened. A whole year? Had it really been that long? No wonder she was drooling over Mr. Latin Lover here. It was nothing personal. Just hormones. She’d been too busy for a social life lately, and her body was simply overreacting to the first attractive man under fifty who got too close.

“Mr. Rizzoli’s in Hawaii on vacation,” Martinez finally responded, jumping into her strange reverie with both feet, his tone tense and slightly clipped as if he’d sensed her epiphany and realized he’d drawn the short straw in her opinion because of it.

Hawaii? A frown knitted its way across her forehead. “Mr. Rizzoli didn’t mention a vacation.”

“It was sudden,” Ric offered. “He won the trip and had to leave right away.”

Suspicion wiggled into Piper’s muddled thoughts. This was too coincidental. Too much had happened in her life during the past few weeks for this sudden turn of events to leave her anything but wary. “That doesn’t explain why you’re in his apartment. And just how do you know Mr. Rizzoli?”

Martinez licked those incredible lips and Piper almost jerked with reaction. Silently she cursed herself. She had to get a grip here. She’d worked with Jones for over three years and he’d never once had this effect on her.

“I’m apartment-sitting.” Martinez lifted one shoulder in the hint of a shrug. “Watering the plants, feeding the fish, you know, holding the fort down. My aunt and Mr. Rizzoli met in a gardening class of some sort.”

Piper felt herself nod, though she didn’t understand at all. Had Mr. Rizzoli ever mentioned attending a class? Nothing came to mind. But even so, this wasn’t like Mr. Rizzoli. He never went anywhere, not since his wife died anyway. The few occasions he left the apartment other than as dictated by necessity were when Piper coerced him into attending some function at which she needed an escort.

Like tonight’s charity art auction.

Oh, God.

Her eyes rounded and this time it had nothing to do with Martinez’s naked body, her hormones or her suspicions. She had no escort for tonight’s function. And it was definitely too late to call anyone else. She’d RSVP’d for two. No one—no one—came unescorted to these affairs. And if she did, it would be the gossip of every local television as well as radio talk show host tomorrow.

“Was there something you needed?” Martinez was watching her closely now, as if he expected her to faint or make some unanticipated move.

Piper felt certain all the blood had drained from her face at the thought of all the possible ramifications of attending the art auction alone. Maybe she would be lucky and faint; then she could claim she’d fallen ill and unable to attend tonight’s goodwill mission.

“Mr. Rizzoli was supposed to be my—my escort at a charity function tonight,” she finally stammered. “I suppose he forgot,” she said.

A devilish grin lifted one corner of Martinez’s sexy mouth. “No problem,” he said smoothly. “I’ll be more than happy to stand in for him.”

She shook her head, then realized he wouldn’t understand unless she said the words. “It’s a black-tie affair. You don’t have time to—” He leaned close, the fresh scent of his soap tickling her senses, cutting off her next words and sending a shiver through her. Mr. Rizzoli certainly never smelled like that.

“Don’t worry, querida. You think I can’t dress the part?” he teased softly. “Give me five minutes.” He winked, then pivoted and strode away, leaving her standing, stunned, in the open doorway.

Any air still remaining rushed out of Piper’s lungs as she watched him stride across the room and disappear down the hall. The white towel hung low on his slim hips, and stood out in sharp contrast to the smooth, dark skin that made him the perfect candidate for a sexy body oil commercial. She could just imagine that muscular body slathered in exotic-smelling oil. Piper sucked in a burst of much-needed air at the unbidden image of her smoothing it over his skin. She shook her head to dislodge the ludicrous picture and forced one foot in front of the other until she’d gotten inside far enough to close the door. She sagged against it. Another deep breath and she felt somewhat rational again. All she had to do was stay composed on the outside. He didn’t have to know what havoc he played with her inside.

Piper swallowed with immense difficulty and surveyed the familiar environment. She had played cards many times with Mr. Rizzoli since his wife died last year. Brought dinner to him even more often. He was a kind, good-hearted man. He would never ask someone to watch his apartment if he didn’t trust that someone completely. And if he knew Martinez’s aunt…

Surely that meant that she could trust Martinez.

Piper paused next to Mr. Rizzoli’s antique desk. His ancient manual typewriter looked lonesome without a piece of paper and a half-finished letter hanging out of it. He was always corresponding with a friend or relative he hadn’t seen in ages. Mr. Rizzoli wrote letters like most people these days used the telephone. Piper smiled, remembering the man’s rare smile and even rarer laughter. Maybe he would find a fun companion in Hawaii. The name of an island resort hotel along with a telephone number was written in Mr. Rizzoli’s bold strokes on the desk’s notepad. For Martinez to contact him in case of an emergency, she supposed.

To ensure Martinez was taking his job seriously, Piper walked across the room and surveyed the aquariums. All looked well, as best she could tell. The setup was pretty much self-maintained in that the fish were fed automatically. She guessed that Martinez’s job was to make sure the food reservoir was kept filled and that nothing went wrong with the water’s chemical balance. The slow gurgling sound was somehow soothing to her frayed nerves. The urge to collapse on Mr. Rizzoli’s comfortable old sofa and sleep until her life was back to normal was almost overwhelming.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chastised softly. “You are not going to hide.” Piper strode determinedly to where the orchids sat on their glass shelves beneath their special light and she studied them closely. No sign of wilting…yet. It appeared that Martinez was doing what her neighbor had asked of him.

She still couldn’t understand why Mr. Rizzoli hadn’t left her a note or something. Frowning, Piper turned away from the lovely flowers just in time for her gaze to collide with a fully dressed and completely elegant Martinez.

“Where exactly are we going?” he inquired as he crossed the room in slow, deliberate strides designed to enhance the overall picture of sheer sophistication. “I hope this is acceptable,” he added as he indicated his attire with one broad sweep of his hands.

It was her turn to speak. “That’s—” she cleared her throat “—fine.” Piper clutched the small purse in her hand until the beads felt like tiny needles. “Fine” was nowhere near an adequate description as was generally the case with Martinez. “I requested that the limo come a little early,” she continued around the rock lodged in her throat. “I’d thought we—Mr. Rizzoli and I—would have time for dinner, but…” She jerked her gaze away and tried to banish the image of Martinez in a tux. If she’d thought he looked handsome in flashy street garb, she now knew why the word devastating was often used to describe the way the right man could look. The tux fit like a glove. The contrasting black and white only served to set the classic frame for his model-perfect build. “We should just go straight to the Exhibit Hall. There’s a charity art auction,” she finally remembered to say in answer to his original question.

He shrugged easily. “Sounds interesting.”

For the first time in her entire life, Piper knew what it was to be totally blown away by the way a guy looked.

She had to get a grip. Things like this didn’t happen to her. She was too logical, too professional. She didn’t have time for this kind of distraction.

Somehow she had to convince Dave that this new cameraman would not do. No way was she going to allow years of hard work to go down the drain because she lost her head and got involved with a guy like Martinez. She knew nothing about him and he probably liked it that way. Dave hadn’t even told her where he’d come from, only that he was somehow related to the station manager. She had learned only this morning that he wasn’t from Atlanta.

Her chest tightened at her next thought. Maybe Martinez thought the best way to ensure his place at the station was to have something on Piper. She had a squeaky-clean reputation. The last thing she needed was some hunky guy like Martinez going around saying he’d slept with her.

She would not let that happen. She would never, ever trust her future or her heart to any man. That lesson had been hard learned. She’d watched her mother’s life fall apart around her. Piper’s father had been gone for months before her uncle Lucas had come bearing the news that he’d died on a secret mission in some place that Piper had never heard of. Her father’s career had always been top priority. He’d loved and died for his government, leaving his wife and daughter to find their own way without him. Lucas had always been there for them. Piper was grateful for her uncle, but still resentful of her father’s selfishness.

All that was in the past. She had accepted it and moved on long ago. Still, the scars kept both her and her mother from fully trusting again.

Piper’s gaze moved back up to the man offering his arm to escort her to the ordered limo. She wouldn’t change now. Especially not now. Why should she trust her heart to any man? And she wasn’t about to trust her career to anyone except her bought-and-paid-for agent.

“Just so you know, Martinez,” she said as he opened the door, “Mr. Rizzoli’s orchids are more than mere plants, they’re like his children. You’d better take good care of them,” she warned.

“Don’t worry, querida,” he replied wryly and with a quick grin. “I inherited my aunt’s green thumb.”

AS HE AND PIPER ENTERED the hall outside her apartment door, the waiting agent descended the stairs in front of them. Ric’s bodyguard mode moved to a higher level of alert. Going out at night definitely entailed more risk. Though Piper didn’t know it, Raine was their driver tonight. There would be no chances taken with a regular driver and the Bureau boys would be in the chase car right behind them.

Ric paused, keeping Piper close to his side, and allowed the agent to play pushman. He exited the building and scanned the perimeter. Once the okay was given, Ric escorted Piper outside and across the sidewalk toward the open limo door. He didn’t miss the shaky breath she inhaled just before settling into the vehicle. This had to be extremely difficult for her. From what he’d gathered, from research and personal observation, Miss Piper Ryan was a very independent young woman. Since leaving home and starting her own life, she had never once gone to her mother for help. She intended to make her own way as an adult. Having to admit she needed protection and couldn’t protect herself had to be a huge blow to her confidence.

As she scooted across the seat, her black dress slid to the tops of her thighs and Ric almost stopped thinking at all. He quickly diverted his gaze and settled into the luxurious seat beside her. This was not the time to dwell on those shapely legs or those firm breasts outlined by the well-fitting dress. He wouldn’t even go into the way she had her dark hair twisted up on top of her head in a sexy hairdo that left wisps hugging her delicate neck.

When the door closed, Ric met Raine’s gaze in the rearview mirror briefly before the limo left the curb. Ric silently cursed himself. He would not make a foolish mistake during this assignment. Piper’s life depended upon his doing the job right. No matter what this chemistry brewing between them turned out to be, Ric could not and would not cross the line that would surely endanger her well-being. He might flirt a little to throw her off balance when he felt the situation warranted his having the upper hand, but he wouldn’t go beyond that. His errant gaze swept over the beautiful woman sitting silently beside him. No matter how damned hard it proved.

“We’ll be taking an alternate route,” the “driver” announced.

Ric jerked his attention forward. “Problems?” He knew the answer. Raine would have driven directly to the Exhibit Hall otherwise. Ric rested his arm across the back of the seat and glanced at the dark gray sedan carrying the two federal agents that followed close behind them.

“Unexpected traffic delays, sir. Nothing major.”

They had a tail. Ric glanced behind them once more, but resisted the impulse to stare. The unidentified tail was right on the bumper of the sedan.

Piper looked concerned.

“I’m sure it’s nothing we should worry about. Probably an accident or some sort of construction,” he offered in hopes of defusing the mounting anxiety clear in her pretty blue eyes. She was too smart not to understand that something was going on. “How about some champagne?” He reached for the complimentary bottle chilling in an ice bucket.

“That would be nice,” she murmured as she looked away to stare out the tinted window.

Ric met Raine’s gaze in the rearview mirror once more as he filled a fluted glass. The look that passed between them left Ric with a bad feeling in his gut. He and Piper couldn’t risk emerging from the car with an unidentified vehicle nearby. An evade maneuver would be necessary. Ric glanced at Piper and hoped like hell she wouldn’t go ballistic on them and demand to know exactly what was going on. He sure didn’t want to have to deal with an irate female, especially one as perceptive and headstrong as Piper Ryan. And blowing his cover at this point would be a major mistake. She could and likely would dismiss him. She intended to maintain dominion over her own life—risky business or not.

Raine made a sudden right, almost sloshing champagne on them both. The sound of squealing tires told Ric that the agents behind them had made a tactical move against the tail. Piper drained her glass, set it aside, then twisted around to see what was happening, but Raine moved too quickly. Before she could piece it all together and ask what was going on, the limo stopped in front of the Exhibit Hall. Raine was out of the vehicle and had opened their door curbside in less than five seconds. Ric scanned the area, though he knew Raine already had, then reached down to assist Piper out of the vehicle.

“I’ll be standing by, sir.”

Ric nodded to Raine and ushered Piper up the steps and into the building as quickly as he could without alarming her further.

The moment they entered the grand entry hall Ric felt immense relief. Those SSU jokers were getting braver and braver. They did not intend to back down. They just kept pushing, hoping for an opening to get close enough to assassinate one more news reporter. Ric gazed down at the woman at his side. Anger unfurled inside him. One thing was certain—they’d have to go through him first.

And Ric had no intention of making it easy for them.

Chapter Three

Ric scanned the room once more, ever alert for any abrupt move or new face. He would feel a lot better when he had Piper safely back home in her apartment. It was evident that she was under twenty-four-hour surveillance by both the good guys and the bad guys.

Agent Townsend had managed to get a partial license plate number before the unidentified car disappeared down a side street. Now, an hour later, the only thing Ric knew was that the license plate could have come from one of two vehicles from the Atlanta area. One was owned by an elderly woman who was out of town, car included, and the other had been reported stolen earlier that evening, then found abandoned only minutes ago. Whoever had stolen it and used it to tail Piper was long gone.

Another dead end unless forensics found a usable set of prints, which was highly unlikely. SSU had proven too smart in the past for a mistake that simple, and he doubted they would suddenly grow so stupid.

His gaze instantly sought out Piper. She had relaxed immediately, or at least pretended to, when they entered the crowded Exhibit Hall. She mingled among the elegant and elite society attendees with an unparalleled grace and confidence. She introduced Ric by name only, not mentioning that he was her cameraman, and going quickly to another subject when the required formality was out of the way. Though the women seemed inclined to take special notice of him.

Ric had been given more private telephone numbers in the last hour than he could remember getting on his best night when he had been actually looking to pick up a woman.

He studied a watercolor by a local artist that was currently up to a twenty-eight-hundred-dollar bid. This was Ric’s first experience with a silent auction. A register stood on an ornate stand where guests could peruse the latest bid and up the ante, if they so desired, by simply signing their name and an amount they wished to bid.

Personally, Ric couldn’t see the attraction in this particular piece, but then, he wasn’t the artsy type. The closest thing to art he’d known growing up was the graffiti that marked the area as low-rent, possibly dangerous to anyone from the better side of town who happened to get lost there.

A tall, slender blonde approached him and Ric shifted to attention and smiled a greeting. He was pretty sure she had arrived with the new, hotshot sheriff of Fulton County.

Ric definitely did not want to be seen accepting anything that might even appear remotely like her number. He doubted the sheriff would be too happy about a move like that.

“A lovely piece,” she said, flicking her gaze from the watercolor to him in a furtive move. “Have you placed your bid?” She sipped her wine and licked her lips slowly, suggestively, then leaned closer. “The artist who painted it died recently. I’m sure the bids will go much higher.” She moved closer still. “And higher.”

“Actually,” Ric explained, angling his head so that he looked directly into her assessing eyes, “I’m not here for the art.”

Her smile was feline, and blatantly sexual. “I was relatively certain you weren’t.” She offered her hand. “I’m Sally Carter. I do Atlanta Live on Channel 9. And they tell me that you’re Ric Martinez. I’ve been dying to get the inside scoop on Piper Ryan for ages.” Miss Carter tilted her chin upward and whispered in his ear, “I would love to interview you for my ‘Kiss and Tell’ segment. The audience would eat you up.”

And so would you, Ric guessed. He eased back a step, putting some distance between them. So, this female barracuda wanted to get some trash on Piper.

She plucked a card from her dainty purse. “Give me a call when you have some free time, Mr. Martinez.” She gave him a thorough once-over and then a smile of approval. “I’d love some one-on-one.”

Before Ric could recite his polite, practiced response, she turned and drifted toward the other side of the room, ensuring that she gave him the full treatment as she walked away. He shook his head and tucked the card into his inside jacket pocket along with the rest.

“What did she say to you?”

The sharp demand jerked Ric’s attention to his left. Piper stood, seething, only a few feet away. Could that be jealousy blazing in those gorgeous blue eyes?

It sure looked like it to him.

Taking slow, calculated steps, Ric moved in on her. Her eyes widened slightly, but she recovered quickly and schooled her expression. “She said she wanted to have sex with me,” he offered candidly.

Wide-eyed, Piper demanded, “She didn’t?”

He shrugged noncommittally, a smile itching to spread across his lips. “But first she wanted to know if I’d had sex with you and what it was like.”

Piper’s mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut, then exhaled the outrage, which had just synapsed into word form, “That bi—”

He held up a hand to halt her outburst of indignation. “Don’t worry, I set her straight.” He leaned down so that he could whisper his next words. “I told her we hadn’t had sex…yet.”

The grin overtook his lips at the startled expression on Piper’s lovely face. Realization quickly dawned in her eyes, and her gaze narrowed accordingly. “You did no such thing.”

“No.” He tasted the wine he’d been nursing all evening. His fingers curled around the stem, his thumb smoothed over the warm glass. How would it feel, he suddenly wondered, to caress that silky smooth cheek of hers? His gaze drifted down to Piper’s mouth then quickly darted back to her eyes. “I didn’t tell her that,” he admitted, trying his level best not to allow what he was thinking to filter into his tone, “but she did give me her card and suggest we share some ‘one-on-one’ time in the near future.”

“That woman has been out to get me for the past year,” Piper grumbled, surveying the crowd for the transgressor in question. “She loves to smear images and ruin reputations. You stay away from her, Martinez. She’s not a nice person.”

“Don’t worry, querida,” he soothed. “I put her card with all the rest. I have no intention of calling any of them.”

“All the rest?” Piper looked properly mortified. “You mean all these women I’ve seen chatting with you have been giving you their numbers?”

“Not all.” It amused him that she’d noticed other women talking to him. Or, he admitted reluctantly, maybe it pleased him. “But most.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed a sound of impatience. “I knew it. I told Dave this wouldn’t work.” She drained her glass and thrust it at Ric. “And I was right. Women have been trying to pick you up all night. Excuse me,” she snapped, then pivoted and stormed away.

Ric quickly deposited their glasses on the tray of a passing waiter and followed.

Piper stamped down a dimly lit, deserted corridor and disappeared into the first door on the left. Ric paused in front of the closing door, noting Ladies emblazoned on the wood plaque. He stepped to one side to wait. She would come out eventually. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. And then he would demand that she explain herself. His smile widened to a grin. He was going to enjoy this.

In thinking back to her incensed outrage, he supposed that Piper’s tantrum had more to do with propriety and appearances than anything else. It didn’t look proper for her date, escort or whatever, to accept the cards of any of the other female guests in attendance. But, he thought with another slow grin, he could pretend that it was more than that. He could pretend that Miss Perfect, Proper Piper Ryan saw him as a man, rather than as simply “her co-worker.”

Ric immediately dismissed that line of thinking. This was an assignment, nothing else. And Piper was the principal. He had to remember that, no matter how much he wanted to forget it for just a little while.

He was her personal protector.

It was his job to keep her safe.

And he would do that above all else.

PIPER TOOK ANOTHER deep breath and stared at her reflection in the gilt-framed mirror. She was a complete idiot. How could she be jealous of Martinez?

Sure, he looked amazing in that tux. The fact of the matter was that he looked pretty damned amazing naked, too. But she wasn’t supposed to notice that. She had purposely avoided overly handsome men in the past. They were trouble. That’s what her mother said, and Piper herself knew it to be true. Her father had been extraordinarily handsome. And every friend she’d ever had had a story to tell about how some good-looking guy had done her wrong.

Piper squared her shoulders and adopted a “no prisoners” expression. She would not be another conquest in Martinez’s memoirs. So what if he was cute and sexy…as well as nice and funny? Her fierce expression wilted. The people at Hope Place during today’s interview had loved him. He’d fit right in, connected with them on a level Piper hadn’t been able to. And then tonight, when she was in the very element her mother had trained her to fit into, he was at home there, as well. Chatting knowledgeably and intelligently. Smiling that killer smile that made all the ladies take notice. And taking their cards, yet!

Piper squeezed her eyes shut and wished for Jones. She didn’t like it when she felt confused, and Ric Martinez confused her. Somehow she had to block his effect on her. Dismiss his overpowering persona. One week and six days. That’s all she had left. She could ignore him for that long, couldn’t she? Jones would be back and so would Mr. Rizzoli. And then her life could go back to normal. All she had to do was get her emotions back under control.

Still holding her eyes closed tightly, she counted to ten. She had to go back out there and face Martinez…and all the rest.

“Hello, Piper,” a distinctly male voice whispered.

An arm instantly closed around her neck. Piper’s eyes snapped open. The lights were out. The room was pitch-black.

Fingers of steel closed over her mouth before she could scream. “No screaming,” the voice told her.

Piper struggled to identify the voice. Had she heard this man’s voice in the crowd tonight? Was he someone she knew? Her heart slammed against her rib cage. Fear ignited inside her. No. She didn’t know him. He was not a friend or acquaintance.

SSU had sent this man. She was going to die now. It was her turn, she realized. The image of the three dead reporters flashed in vivid Technicolor before her eyes. She would be the fourth victim. She should have listened to her uncle.

“Someone is going to die tonight, but it isn’t you,” the voice assured her as if he’d just read her mind. “You still have time, Piper. Time to promote our cause and undo some of the harm your kind have done.”

Her fingers clamped instinctively around the arm tightening on her throat. An agonized moan echoed in the darkness. The sound came from her. Tears spilled past her lashes. She never cried. Not even when her uncle had told her that her father was dead. She hadn’t cried even once. The salty droplets slid down her cheeks now only to stall on the fingers held tightly over her lips. She didn’t want to die.

“Every move we make is deliberate. Those protecting you believe they are foiling our attempts, but, as you can clearly see—well, maybe see is not the right word,” he mused sardonically. “As you can feel—” his arm tightened to the point of cutting off her breath “—you are quite vulnerable to us. We could kill you, just as we have the other three, at any moment. Now if we so desired.”

His arm loosened. Air surged into her burning lungs. She needed to gasp…to cough, but his hand was still on her mouth holding her silent and right where he wanted her.

He hummed a note of sympathy in her ear. “It’s such a relief to be able to breathe, isn’t it? Every day we take that simple, yet life-giving ability for granted.” He jerked her head back hard against his shoulder. “Know this, Piper Ryan, you will die when the time is right.” He laughed softly, menacingly. “No one can protect you from us. No one can save you. No one.”

Ice-cold dread strummed through her veins. The urge to scream, to fight, was overwhelming. Before she could act on the impulse, his fingers pressed into her throat, against her carotid artery. She needed to get away! All thought ceased as she slumped against him.

RIC GLANCED at his watch once more. Seven full minutes had passed since Piper disappeared behind that door. Seven minutes too long. And what about the other woman? The blonde who’d walked in maybe five minutes ago? He straightened and turned back to the door technically off-limits to the male species.

He rapped firmly against it. “Piper, are you all right in there?” If she was chatting with the other woman, she would just have to be embarrassed. He had to know that she was safe. He didn’t really put a lot of stock in propriety anyway. He never had.

No answer.

Frowning, he considered his options. Knock again or open the door and find out for himself. His palm flattened on the door just as something at the edge of his vision snagged his attention. The crack under the door was dark. His frown deepened as his pulse kicked into overdrive. That meant the room beyond was dark.

Damn.

Withdrawing the weapon tucked into the back of his waistband, Ric leaned against the door but met firm resistance. It was locked. Adrenaline slid through his veins. He swore under his breath and readied himself to force the door open. He slammed hard against it once, twice, then pushed into the darkness.

The room was thick with silence. He felt for the switch on the wall with his left hand and with one flick of his thumb filled the room with light. He blinked as his gaze adjusted to the brightness.

A sitting area. It was empty. Listening intently, he eased across the small room and listened for several seconds. Nothing. Holding his weapon with both hands, he swung into the tiled area where the fancy stalls and elegant sinks lined both sides of the walls.

Piper lay on the floor.

Fear surged into his throat. Keeping an eye out for any movement, he knelt beside her just as she tried to push up into a sitting position. She made a sound, half sob, half whimper, as he closed his arm around her and pulled her close.

“Are you all right?” he demanded, surveying her for damage. Her hair was mussed, but that appeared to be the extent of the external damage.

“What happened?” he asked when she didn’t answer quickly enough to suit him. Where the hell was the blonde? Was she the one who did this? And where the hell did she go? Anger rushed through his veins. Dammit, he should have checked the place out before she came in here. But she hadn’t given him the chance. Could he have kept the blonde out without causing a scene?

“He…he—” Piper touched her throat “—did something to my neck and I blacked out.” Her eyes rounded with remembered fear. “Did you see him?” She whipped her head from side to side. “Where is he?” Before Ric could stop her, she tried to scramble up.

“You’re sure it was a he?” As he helped Piper to her feet, Ric considered whether the blonde could have been a man in disguise. He didn’t see how, but…

“It was a man,” Piper insisted, her voice sounded raspy. “He was wearing a wool mask, like a ski mask. I felt the roughness of it against my cheek.” Now that she was vertical again, and despite the visible shaking, anger was quickly replacing the fear in her eyes.

“Don’t move,” Ric instructed. No one came back out of the door, not even the blonde. And, unless she was dead inside one of the stalls—he quickly scanned the bottom of each and decided that wasn’t likely—she was in on it. Ric pushed each door inward just to be certain, ready to fire if anyone moved.

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