Dear Reader,

June brings you six high-octane reads from Silhouette Intimate Moments, just in time for summer. First up, Ingrid Weaver enthralls readers with Loving the Lone Wolf (#1369), which is part of her revenge-ridden PAYBACK miniseries, Here, a street thug turned multimillionaire on a mission falls for the enemy’s girlfriend and learns that looks can be deceiving! Crank up your air-conditioning as Debra Cowan’s miniseries THE HOT ZONE will definitely raise temperatures with its firefighter characters. The second book, Melting Point (#1370), has a detective heroine and firefighting hero discovering more than one way to put out a fire as they track a serial killer.

Caridad Piñeiro lures us back to her haunting miniseries, THE CALLING. In Danger Calls (#1371), a beautiful doctor loses herself in her work, until a heady passion creates delicious chaos while throwing her onto a dangerous path. You’ll want to curl up with Linda Winstead Jones’s latest book, One Major Distraction (#1372), from her miniseries LAST CHANCE HEROES, in which a marine poses as a teacher to find a killer and falls for none other than the fetching school cook…who hides one whopper of a secret.

When a SWAT hero butts heads with a plucky reporter, a passionate interlude is sure to follow in Diana Duncan’s Truth or Consequences (#1373), the next book in her fast-paced miniseries FOREVER IN A DAY. In Deadly Reunion (#1374), by Lauren Nichols, our heroine thinks her life is comfortable. But of course, mayhem ensues as her ex-husband—a man she’s never stopped loving—returns to solve a murder and clear his name…and she’s going to help him.

This month is all about finding love against the odds and those adventures lurking around the corner. So as you lounge in your favorite chair, lose yourself in one of these gems from Silhouette Intimate Moments!

Sincerely,

Patience Smith

Associate Senior Editor

Loving the Lone Wolf
Ingrid Weaver

MILLS & BOON

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ISBN: 9781408946480

Loving the Lone Wolf

© Ingrid Caris 2005

First Published in Great Britain in 2005

Harlequin (UK) Limited

Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, including without limitation xerography, photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the prior consent of the publisher, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this work have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.á.r.l.

® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

Prologue

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

Epilogue

COMING NEXT MONTH

INGRID WEAVER

admits to being a sucker for old movies and books that can make her cry. “I write because life is an adventure,” Ingrid says. “And the greatest adventure of all is falling in love.” Since the publication of her first book in 1994, she has won the Romance Writers of America RITA® Award for Romantic Suspense, as well as the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award for Series Romantic Suspense. Ingrid lives with her husband and son and an assortment of shamefully spoiled pets in a pocket of country paradise an afternoon’s drive from Toronto. She invites you to visit her Web site at www.ingridweaver.com.

Prologue

“Mommy, look at this!”

The scene unfolded with the slow-motion horror of a nightmare. At first, Kelly couldn’t accept what she was seeing. This was Jamie’s playroom, part of their sanctuary, an island of sanity where her son could be just a kid and she could be simply a mom. Toy cars littered the carpet, crayons and paper covered the child-size desk and the cushions from the biggest couch had been propped into a pile on the floor to make a garage.

But Jamie wasn’t holding a crayon or a car or the favorite threadbare stuffed rabbit that he had crawled into his couch-cushion garage to find.

He was holding a gun.

No. Oh, God, no!

The nightmare image continued to expand, melding the ordinary with the obscene. Under the eerily unblinking gaze of the toys that lined the shelves, sunlight glinted from the silver pistol, the same sunlight that sifted through Jamie’s strawberry-blond hair and gilded the freckles on his cherub cheeks with gold.

Kelly fought to stay calm, despite the scream that swelled in her throat. She couldn’t risk startling him. She unfolded her legs from where she had been sitting cross-legged on the floor. Holding out her hand, she knee-walked across the carpet. She was only two yards away. It seemed like two miles. “Jamie, please put that down.”

The gun was a 9mm clip-loading semiautomatic, the kind the guards who patrolled the estate carried. It was too large for a three-year-old’s tiny hands, so Jamie gripped the pistol by its barrel the same way he would normally grip the handle of the plastic hammer that had come with his toy tool bench. Oblivious to the danger, he sat back on his heels and tilted his head to investigate his new find. “Pow, pow!”

“Now, baby.” Kelly halted in front of him, reached for the weapon and eased it from his hands. “Give it to Mommy.”

“I want to play with it!”

The moment the gun was securely in Kelly’s grip, her breath rushed out. Her pulse was pounding so hard, her chest ached. The urge to scream was getting stronger. It was almost as powerful as the urge to run.

Yes, run. Take her baby and keep going until her feet bled and her legs collapsed and there was no more air in her lungs. End the madness, leave the nightmare behind and find somewhere free and safe and normal where love wasn’t a tool, armed men didn’t patrol the halls and guns didn’t end up between couch cushions like stray pocket change.

Her fingers trembled as she unloaded the gun and put it on the floor behind her. How it had gotten here, who had left it, were questions she would deal with later. She leaned over to pull her son into a hard embrace. Pressing her nose to his hair, she drew in his scent, that sweet mixture of baby shampoo and warm child, the familiar anchor for her senses when the world spun out of control.…

Before she realized what she was doing, she was on her feet with her son clasped in her arms and was halfway across the room.

Kelly’s scream emerged as a moan. Clenching her teeth, she stopped short of the door and turned in a circle. She couldn’t run. Not yet. If she did, Stephan would track them down as he had before.

She had to be patient and stick to her plan. She had to use her head instead of her heart. She couldn’t trust her heart. That’s what had gotten her into this in the first place.

But, oh, God! If she had been three yards away instead of two, if Jamie had played with that gun instead of showing it to her, if he had looked down the barrel, if he had touched the trigger…

Kelly’s shoulders shook with a sob. She sank to her knees, clutching Jamie to her chest. He squirmed, restless with his mother’s need to cling, but she only hugged him tighter.

“I’ll get us out of this,” she whispered. “I promise.”

The vow was one she had made countless times.

Only this time, she knew exactly how she would make it happen.

Chapter 1

Nathan Beliveau wasn’t looking for a woman. Even if he had been, it sure as hell wouldn’t have been this one.

From the improbable shade of her strawberry-blond hair to the lethal spikes of her stiletto heels, Kelly Jennings spelled trouble. She had the kind of presence that commanded the stage, drawing every gaze in the place as she posed in the spotlight. Her dress shimmered in a sheath of gold, caressing her body in a way that was designed to make any man there think about reaching out for those curves and doing the same.

But word on the street had it that this woman belonged to Stephan Volski. She was one of his trophies, a symbol of the Russian’s power and his wealth, so only a suicidal fool would consider getting any part of his body even close to hers.

Ice cubes tinkled as Nathan wrapped his fingers around his glass and leaned back in his chair. The lights dimmed until pinpoints of white shone from the ceiling like a network of stars. That’s what Volski had named the nightclub, the Starlight.

It was a high-class place, one of the most popular in Chicago, with plush blue velvet covering the chairs and white linen on the small tables. A staff of polite servers glided unobtrusively around the room, although Nathan had spotted several who had the telltale bulge of a shoulder holster under their jackets. More muscle was positioned near the exits, but they kept their presence low-key. The majority of the patrons who frequented the club weren’t aware this place was a front for the owner’s real business. They came here for the ambiance and for the music.

Nathan had come here to settle a debt.

There was a scattering of applause as Kelly stepped up to the microphone. She acknowledged it with a graceful dip of her chin. Nathan couldn’t see the color of her eyes from where he sat—he’d chosen a table far from the stage so he could put his back against the wall while keeping track of the people who entered the room—but he was still close enough to see that the rest of her features projected the same kind of sensuality as her body.

Her face was a classic oval, framed by an artful tumble of curls. Her high cheekbones and her generous mouth were emphasized by dramatic makeup, but she wore no jewelry around her neck. The tempting expanse of cleavage her dress revealed didn’t need adornment.

When it came to choosing his trophies, Volski had spectacular taste. Kelly appeared to be made for pleasure, a woman who was well aware of her sex appeal and knew how to use it.

And fool or not, Nathan wasn’t immune to her effect. He tried to ignore the stirring of interest he felt. It usually took more than a good body and a pretty face for him to notice a woman—he was more interested in what lay inside than in the packaging. Yet he couldn’t deny that the mere sight of Kelly was getting to him.

It was an understandable response, a healthy male reaction to the display of a ripe female.

Nathan reminded himself once again that this was the wrong female.

He sipped his drink and surveyed the crowd, turning his thoughts back to business. Volski’s emissary was supposed to have been here five minutes ago. It had taken Nathan over a month to set up this meeting, and Tony’s patience was running out. The plan was still a good one, though. All he needed was the chance to put it into motion.

A glimmer of movement drew his gaze back to the stage. Kelly’s dress shifted as she curled her fingers around the microphone, revealing another half inch of cleavage. Contrary to what Nathan expected, her full lips didn’t curve with the smile of a seductress. Instead, they thinned with determination. She remained motionless, as if she were drawing into herself. It went on so long, the audience began to grow restive. Finally, she closed her eyes, lifted her face and began to sing.

If Nathan hadn’t already been leaning his chair against the wall, he would have been knocked on his butt by her first note.

Longing. Pain.

Rage.

The emotions that trembled through the air were so genuine, so raw, that Nathan felt as if he’d been struck. This wasn’t an act. What Kelly was doing on that stage was too private, making it seem as if he were intruding merely by listening.

He wasn’t alone. The entire audience went silent, as if they were as stunned by the intimacy of what they were hearing as Nathan was. The melody was familiar, an old torch song from the 1930s, yet Kelly made it sound as if it had been written just for her.

There were musicians backing her up, a jazz trio consisting of a pianist, a bass player and a drummer. Nathan could see their silhouettes on the stage beyond the range of the spotlight, yet they kept their contribution to the music as unobtrusive as their appearance. Kelly’s voice didn’t need adornment any more than her features did.

Nathan swallowed the rest of his drink, along with a pang of regret. There had to be more to Kelly than just the packaging. How did a woman who sang like this, whose performance hinted at such depth to her emotions, end up involved with scum like Stephan Volski?

Maybe the rumors were wrong.

Damn, he hoped so.

Because if Kelly Jennings was anywhere near her boyfriend when this deal went down, she would be trading her stage for a prison cell.

This would be the last time, the very last time, that Kelly would negotiate a deal for Stephan. All she had to do was set this business into motion and she and Jamie would be as good as gone. The smuggler she had been sent to meet was about to become their ticket to freedom.

Yet even knowing that, Kelly still felt her stomach rebel as she stepped off the stage. She paused to smooth her dress until the queasiness passed, then put on her best performer’s smile and kept her gaze on the back wall as she moved between the tables. She didn’t waste time by going backstage to change. That would be an indulgence she couldn’t afford. She’d already indulged herself enough for one night.

What had come over her? How could she have exposed her feelings that way? The past three years had taught her better than that. It was enough that she exposed half her bosom without laying bare her heart.

She should have restrained herself as she always did. Put on a show, gone through the motions, given the audience what they expected so everyone went home happy. Yet her control had been stretched to the limit today. The frustrated rage she’d kept inside since she had seen that gun in Jamie’s hands had needed to be released. Music was the only safe outlet she had. Without it, she likely would have gone insane by now.

But the respite was over. Rand was already here. One of Stephan’s watchdogs had pointed him out to her as soon as the set had ended.

He sat alone at a table in the shadows, his chair casually tipped back against the wall. He’d extinguished the candle that had burned in the glass bowl on the table, so she couldn’t yet see his face, but she could feel his gaze on her as she worked her way closer.

Fine. She knew how to handle that. If Rand was like most of Stephan’s associates, he’d be too busy ogling her to realize he was about to be played. She decided to put on a show for him, too, and give him what he expected. She added a hint of extra sway to her hips.

This had to work. She couldn’t let herself think of what she might be driven to do if it didn’t.

She paused when she reached his table, inhaled from the diaphragm to calm her nerves and held out her hand. “Hello, Mr. Rand,” she said, deliberately pitching her voice low so that he would have to draw closer in order to hear. “I’m Kelly Jennings. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He hesitated briefly before he rose to his feet. He was a tall man. Despite the four-inch heels Kelly wore, her eyes were only on a level with his chin. A loosely knotted tie hung from the open collar of his white shirt, likely a token concession to the Starlight’s dress code, but the jacket that stretched across his wide shoulders was biker black leather. It creaked as he extended his arm to take her hand. “I wasn’t expecting Volski’s man to be a woman,” he said.

The deep voice went along with his size. It was as masculine as the scent of leather and the hint of spicy aftershave that rose with him. She cranked up the wattage of her smile. “I hope you’re not disappoint—”

She never finished the inane comment. The first touch of his palm against her own stole her breath. Maybe it was due to anxiety, or maybe it was a result of fatigue, but when he closed his fingers around hers, she felt a thrill chase across her nerves.

His hand was large, his fingers long and tanned. The strength in his grip was wrapped in a gentleness that was at odds with his size and his choice of wardrobe. Kelly lifted her gaze from his hand to his face.

Good Lord, she thought. Whatever crimes this man did for a living, whatever he was on the inside, there was no denying that the outside was gorgeous. He had a square jaw and broad cheekbones, with a bold hawklike nose that evoked the image of a native warrior. His jet-black hair was cut short and combed straight back from his forehead, but he would have looked just as good with it long and braided. She could picture him on horseback, his shoulders clad in buckskin and his chiseled face bathed by moonlight…

“Surprised would be more accurate,” he murmured.

Kelly blinked, wrenching her mind back to business. What was wrong with her tonight? Rand’s appearance meant nothing to her. She wasn’t looking for a man. She was looking for a patsy, a sucker. A scapegoat. She gestured to the chair beside his. “Well, I hope you mean that in a good way. Do you mind if I join you?”

He held her chair for her. It wasn’t a showy courtesy, it seemed to come naturally to him. He resumed his seat, picked up a book of matches from the table and lit the candle.

His eyes were the color of amber, reflecting the flame with flecks of gold. And despite her revealing neckline, he kept his gaze on her face. “I have what you need,” he said quietly.

How right he was, she thought. “That sounds promising. Would you care to elaborate?”

“I’m in the transportation business. Volski’s looking for a new method to move his product. The math seems simple enough.”

“We checked out your background, Mr. Rand. We heard you ran a successful operation in Detroit ten years ago, but your experience was limited to stealing cars.”

“I prefer to regard it as redistributing them.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it.”

“It’s accurate. I either broke them down for parts or shipped them overseas.”

“Yes, so I heard. You had a good reputation.” She maintained her smile as she continued to scrutinize him. “But you dropped out of sight. Why is it that no one seems to have heard of you since then?”

“Because I’ve moved up from stealing cars, and I’m very good at what I do.”

“And that is?”

“I told you. Transportation.”

She crossed her arms on the table and angled her shoulders toward him. Cool air wafted across her breasts as her neckline gaped. She didn’t pull back—she wanted to put him off balance and she would take any advantage she could get. “You must understand why we would be concerned. Your timely arrival seems too convenient. We need to be sure you are what you claim to be.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware you would require references. I left my résumé in my other suit.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. Still keeping his gaze on hers, he moved the candleholder aside. “You might want to be careful where you lean. That dress looks combustible.”

“Do you like it?”

“If I say yes, is it going to help our negotiations or hurt them?”

This was going to be tougher than she thought. She let her smile fade. “Perhaps you could explain why we should trust you, Mr. Rand.”

“That goes both ways, Miss Jennings.”

“Oh, please. There’s no need to be so formal. Call me Kelly.”

“Let’s quit playing games, Kelly. Volski must already trust me or he wouldn’t have arranged this meeting.”

“He’s interested, yes, but—”

“But he sent you to distract me so he can negotiate a better deal.”

Normally, that would be true. Stephan had recognized her potential from the start and had been quick to exploit it, but this time it was her own agenda, not his, that had her pulling out all the stops. “Nathan,” she began. She splayed her hand on the bare skin at the base of her throat in a gesture that was a surefire attention getter. “I may call you Nathan, may I not?”

He touched his index finger to her knuckle, then traced his way down the back of her hand until he rested his fingertip on the upper curve of her breast. Incredibly, his gaze still didn’t waver from hers. “You can call me whatever you like, Kelly, as long as it doesn’t include fool. I’m here for business, and regardless of what you’re trying to accomplish with this lovely display—” he pressed lightly, stroking her breast along the edge of her little finger “—I believe you’re here for business, too.”

She had to exercise every ounce of her control to stay in character and keep from jerking back. Not because someone might see them and report this to Stephan—with her back to the room and the table positioned in the shadows, no one else would be aware of Nathan’s caress. And not because the contact repulsed her. It was quite the opposite. His touch on her breast wasn’t invasive, it was tender, almost…regretful. This was as unexpected as the thrill she’d felt from his handshake and so help her, despite what she knew about him, she found it pleasant.

That was why it had to end. This wasn’t what she had planned. Just who was distracting whom? She eased her shoulders back, reducing the contact until all she could feel was the warmth from his fingertip.

“I have what you need,” he repeated. “I have a network in place that can move the merchandise Volski has stockpiled in Vladivostok.” He withdrew his hand, ending the caress as casually as he had started it. He crossed his arms. “The only question here is if you can make it worth my while.”

Her skin tingled where he had touched her. Beneath it, her heart started to pound. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. She fought to keep her eagerness from showing. “You seem like an intelligent man, Nathan. Intelligent and ambitious. I like that.”

“And you sing as if there’s a hell of a lot more to you than you’re pretending, Kelly. I’m not sure whether I like that or not.”

This time she did jerk. His touch on her body was one thing, but that comment was just too personal. Pretending? God, he couldn’t possibly know the truth. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”

“Was that what it was?”

“Why, of course. I’m a singer. That’s what I do.”

“No, what you do is work for Volski. From what I heard on that stage tonight, singing is what you are.”

Damn, his insight was right on target. It appeared that she had underestimated him. She had to wrap this up before he sliced any deeper. “Then on behalf of Stephan, I have a proposal to present.”

“I’m listening.”

“Since we haven’t worked together before, we must overcome trust issues on both sides. The best way to do that is to increase the stakes.”

“How?”

“Rather than accepting a flat fee up front for your services, I’m proposing that you take a percentage of the profits once the merchandise is sold.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A percentage? Why?”

“Insurance. Stephan doesn’t want a one-off—he wants an ongoing relationship. If you fail to move the goods as you promise, then you won’t make anything, but if you succeed, your profit will be tied to ours.”

“Uh-huh. And if you don’t make a profit—”

“Oh, we’ll make a profit, Nathan.” She slid her hand along her breast and under the neckline of her dress until the tips of her fingers slipped into her bra. “Let me show you a sample of what I’m offering.”

His arm shot out across the table. His touch wasn’t gentle this time as he clamped his fingers around her wrist to hold her hand in place. The flame that was reflected in his eyes flared dangerously. “Kelly…”

The warning in his voice was plain—she had pushed the game as far as he would allow—but she wasn’t playing now. She twisted her hand so that he could see the small, condom-size packet that she had taken from her bra.

He exhaled hard enough to make the candle waver. Muttering an oath, he released her wrist.

Kelly turned the packet between her fingers. The clear plastic didn’t hold a prophylactic. It held a tablespoon of fine white powder.

It was pure, uncut heroin, gram for gram, one of the most valuable commodities on the planet. It was the primary source of Stephan’s wealth, and being this close to it was making Kelly want to throw up, but she did some more deep breathing until the urge passed.

Almost there, she told herself. She had put out the bait. Now it was only a question of how fast he would take it.

Nathan plucked the heroin from her grasp and closed it in his fist so tightly his knuckles paled.

Good, she thought. Until now, his expression had been unreadable, but his body language betrayed him. This deal appeared to be almost as important to him as it was to her. “It’s yours to keep,” Kelly said. “I believe you’ll want to test it.”

“I intend to.”

“There are two more tons where this came from, Nathan. Your share would make you a rich man.”

The mention of the amount of heroin didn’t appear to move him. Nor did the prospect of riches. He slipped the dope into a pocket on the front of his jacket and zipped it closed. “What kind of percentage did Volski have in mind?”

“That’s what I’m here to negotiate.”

He regarded her steadily. “Name a number.”

“First I need to see what you have to offer.” Kelly pinched the shoulders of her dress and hitched it back into place. “Now that I’ve shown you mine,” she murmured, “it’s your turn to show me yours.”

Chapter 2

Nathan had thought the ride would do him good. That’s why whenever he could he preferred to use his bike instead of his customized Jaguar. There was nothing like the molar-jarring vibration from a Harley’s split carburetor and the slam of night air at seventy miles an hour to help clear a man’s head. Traffic on the expressway was light at this hour so he’d been able to open up the throttle the instant he’d cleared the ramp.

But it wasn’t working. How could he clear his head when every square inch of his body was humming with awareness?

Kelly was nestled behind him, her hands clasped around his waist and her thighs cradling his hips. Even through his jacket he could feel the pressure of her breasts as she squeezed against his back to shelter from the wind.

At least she’d changed out of that damn dress. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have had a hope of getting this far. Had she realized what she’d been doing to him?

Yes. Absolutely. She’d known full well how to use her sexuality to her advantage. She thought she could manipulate him by leading him around by his libido. It was all part of her strategy.

It bothered the hell out of him to realize how effective it had been.

He clenched his jaw and twisted his wrist, accelerating to pass a slow-moving truck. Kelly leaned with him as he changed lanes, her body locked to his. He had assumed she would choose to postpone this part of their business until later, but she seemed as anxious to put the deal into motion as he was. She hadn’t balked when she had seen the motorcycle. Instead, she had told him to wait, then had reappeared outside the Starlight fifteen minutes later dressed in flat-heeled shoes, tailored pants and a modest sweater, a helmet she had borrowed from one of the club’s bouncers in her hand.

Her sensible outfit hadn’t done much to disguise her figure, especially since the way she was plastered to him now let Nathan feel even more than the dress had allowed him to see.

But that was probably all part of her game, too. Her determination was as formidable an asset as her body. Volski had chosen his emissary—and his trophy—well.

Right. Volski.

Nathan checked his speed and eased back on the throttle to bring it under the limit. Getting stopped by the cops at this stage was the last thing he needed. He had a bag of pure heroin in the pocket of his jacket and he had the girlfriend of a notorious Russian drug kingpin on the back of his bike. On top of that, he was using a name he hadn’t gone by for a decade.

What Kelly had learned about his past had been accurate. Ten years ago, Nathan Rand had run the most successful chop shop in Detroit. His network of car thieves had stretched from Michigan across the border to Ontario, targeting only high-end vehicles. His staff had been skilled and highly motivated, all pros like him. He’d been investigated by police forces in both countries and he’d been arrested three times, but he’d always beaten the charges. As he’d told Kelly, he was good at what he did.

But what Kelly didn’t know—and what Volski could never find out—was the real reason Nathan Rand had dropped out of sight. He had relocated from Detroit to Chicago and had become Nathan Beliveau, the president and CEO of what was now the third-largest courier company in the nation.

Nathan’s current network stretched not only around the Great Lakes but throughout North America. Every vehicle his company owned had been acquired honestly. Instead of working under the threat of prison time, his skilled, highly motivated staff could look forward to medical benefits and a generous pension plan. He had transformed himself from an international car thief to an upstanding, taxpaying citizen.

So what he’d told Kelly had been accurate, too. He was indeed in the transportation business. He was proud of the new life he’d built, but it hadn’t come cheap. Unless he paid his debt to Tony Monaco, he could lose it all.

The reminder focused his thoughts better than the ride could. He took the exit for O’HareAirport, switched off his headlight and headed for the back route he liked to use. Seven minutes later, they arrived at the sprawling complex of warehouses and hangars that bore the gray-and-white baying-wolf logo of Pack Leader Express.

It’s your turn to show me yours.

Showing Kelly what he had to offer was exactly what he intended to do. That was why he was about to go through the charade of breaking into the head office of his own company.

Nathan coasted to a stop in the shadows outside the chain-link fence that ran behind the Pack Leader main warehouse. Security was tight in the freight-handling areas, so he planned to stick to the administrative building. He pulled back his cuff to check his watch, then shut off the engine.

Kelly unclasped her hands from his waist. “Why are we stopping here?” she asked.

He set the kickstand, slipped off his helmet and twisted on the seat to look at her. “I know the security guards’ schedule. They pass through the main parking lot a few times a night, but there’s no entrance back here for them to check so they won’t notice my bike.”

She lifted off her helmet and fluffed her hair with her fingers. A whiff of floral-scented shampoo mingled with the exhaust from the bike. “What about surveillance cameras?”

“They’re focused on the entrances and on the loading bays. This is a dead spot.”

She surveyed the area. “I’m impressed by how you’ve studied the security, Nathan, but it still doesn’t show me how you propose to move our merchandise.”

He swung his leg over the gas tank, got to his feet and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

She slid off the bike, hesitating for a telling moment before she slipped her hand into his.

Nathan knew it was crazy to feel a shock from the contact, since he’d felt her body rubbing and jiggling against him for the past half hour, yet the sensation of her skin pressed to his made his mouth go dry.

She didn’t need stage makeup or a sequined dress to get to him. Although the shadows were deep here, he could feel the impact of her gaze. Her eyes were the vibrant green of springtime, fresh with life and hinting at earthy passion that was still tightly coiled.

Did she save her passion only for her singing? What would she do if he took her in his arms and eased her further into the shadows, pressed his mouth to her lips and her back to the wall and…

Damn, he had to keep his mind on business. He was taking a hell of a risk by bringing Kelly here, but it was the quickest way to cement this deal. Everything she saw and did was going to get straight back to Volski, so he had to put on the show of his life.

He tightened his grip on her hand and guided her across the tarmac to the small square building at the hub of the complex. The wolf logo was done in lights here, unlike the painted signs on the other buildings. He gave the glow from the sign a wide berth as he bypassed the main entrance and led Kelly to a door that was set in the middle of the side wall. Angling his body so that she wouldn’t be able to see what he did, he went through the motions of jimmying the lock, then punched in the combination on the keypad, opened the door and tugged her inside.

As he’d anticipated, the corridor was empty. Most of the people who worked the midnight shift would be monitoring activity from the communication center at the front of the building. If someone did happen to see him using his private entrance, they wouldn’t find his presence here unusual—Nathan didn’t sleep much, and he preferred a hands-on style of management, so he often wandered the complex at night.

But if Kelly heard someone address him by the name he used now, the game with Volski would be over almost before it had begun.

She opened her mouth as if she were about to ask another question, but he silenced her by shaking his head and holding his finger to her lips. He leaned down to put his mouth close to her ear. “We’ll go upstairs,” he whispered. “You can see the entire layout from there. It’s safer than going around to the warehouse.”

She nodded and one of her curls tickled his nose.

His eyes half closed as he inhaled. There was the floral shampoo, feminine and sensuous, but beneath it there was a hint of something sweet. A mild, powdery aroma that was oddly…innocent.

Longing, pain…rage.

The memory of her voice rose with her scent. The calculating woman who belonged to Stephan Volski wouldn’t smell like this any more than she would be able to sing with so much emotion. Again, Nathan found himself thinking there had to be more to Kelly than what showed on the surface.

But that wasn’t his concern, was it? He wasn’t looking for a complication any more than he was looking for a woman. Kelly’s only reason for being here with him was to negotiate a way to move her boyfriend’s heroin.

As for Nathan’s reason for being here with Kelly…well, they were standing in the middle of it.

He straightened up and led her to the stairs.

Nathan’s nerves had to be made of steel, Kelly thought, crouching behind the low ridge of concrete that ran along the edge of the roof. And as for that other part of the male anatomy that supposedly went along with courage, he must have a pair of the largest, firmest—

She gritted her teeth, refusing to consider anything else about his body. She’d already felt plenty of it on the motorcycle trip here. Yes, thanks to that ride, she’d been treated to hands-on knowledge of his wide shoulders, his slim hips, his hard thighs and his broad chest. And she’d learned his scent was from more than leather and aftershave. He had the compelling, musky tang of a dangerously virile man.

“The shipment will get stored in that warehouse after it comes in,” Nathan said. He squatted beside her and pointed toward a building to their right.

The airport spread out before them in a giant tapestry threaded with rows of lights. The terminal buildings were far enough away to look small, yet the well-lit complex of warehouses that surrounded them made Kelly feel uncomfortable. There was no cover here on the roof. If anyone decided to look in this direction, they would be spotted for sure.

But compared to the crimes Stephan had drawn her into, a little breaking, entering and trespassing were insignificant. Most of her anxiety arose from the fear that if they were caught here, the distribution deal would be blown and so would her and Jamie’s escape plan.

She wiped her damp palms against her pants and turned her head to follow Nathan’s gesture. She didn’t want him to see her nervousness. It might give him an advantage.

“I didn’t think to ask before,” Nathan said. “Are you bothered by heights?”

His question sounded sincere, as did the note of concern in his voice, but Kelly couldn’t be sure. Bringing her here might be a ploy to rattle her, the same way she’d been trying to rattle him before. “Not at all,” she replied. “Besides, this building is hardly the Sears Tower.”

“It’s too close to a flight path to be any higher.”

As if to prove his statement, his words were drowned out by the roar of a jet taking off. Kelly pressed her palms over her ears and instinctively ducked her head.

Nathan dropped to one knee and slipped his arm around her shoulders to steady her as the noise washed over them. Once it subsided, he didn’t pull away immediately. He moved his fingers, toying briefly with the ends of her hair.

She told herself that she shouldn’t feel anything from the caress. After all, it was only her hair that he touched. So why did she have this strange impulse to lean toward him for more?

Her jaw was starting to ache from clenching her teeth. It was a good thing that this was almost over.

He withdrew his hand and grasped the top of the concrete ledge. “The other courier companies go for small packets and speed,” he said. “Pack Leader offers the same service, but specializes in bigger shipments. Loads are held in that warehouse, then get moved out as soon as a truck is available, usually within six hours.”

“That suits us. The longer it sits, the more chance there is of someone getting curious about what’s in it.”

“How is it going to be packed?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard Volski’s last pipeline brought his junk in by stuffing it into outboard motor parts.”

“That method was compromised. We’ll be using something else.”

“Which is?”

“Stephan will let you know when he feels it’s necessary,” Kelly said.

Nathan paused, then shifted closer. “Unless you level with me, this isn’t going to work. I need to know the weight and dimensions of the shipment so that I can arrange the most efficient transportation.”

“I understand. He’ll give you the specifics ahead of time, but not yet.” She inhaled slowly as the breeze brought her his scent. He was close enough for her to feel his body heat. Sexual awareness rippled down her spine. Was he doing this purposely, trying to turn the tables by using her own strategy on her?

What she had begun at the Starlight was backfiring. Instead of faking an interest in him, she had to convince herself that she wasn’t interested. She tipped her head to follow the blinking lights of another plane. “You still haven’t explained how this is going to go down.”

“If I told you that, what would stop you from double-crossing me and using the information I give you to go with someone else?”

She was glad that she was already facing away from him, so she wouldn’t have to worry about hiding her thoughts. He couldn’t know how close to the truth he had come. “Don’t you trust me, Nathan?”

“About as much as you trust me, Kelly.”

He was surprisingly direct, different from the other criminals she’d met through Stephan. “Could someone else offer us what you can?” she asked.

“No one else has my particular connections.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. I’ve found that mutual interest is more reliable than mutual trust.”

“So young, and so cynical,” he murmured. “Is that why you save your passion for your music?”

Another direct hit, she thought. She had to finish this now. “As much as I’m enjoying all this witty repartee, Nathan, it’s getting late,” she said, pushing to her feet. “I’d like to proceed with our business.”

He looked at her for a minute, his gaze hooded with shadows, then stood and led her to the other side of the roof.

A sea of trucks, all painted gray and white with the Pack Leader wolf logo, stretched out in a fenced yard below them. The sizes ranged from small delivery vans to eighteen-wheelers. As they watched, a man in the dark gray company uniform strode to a midsize van and drove it through the gate.

Nathan drew her back from the edge of the roof as the van passed by. “The best way to smuggle anything is in plain sight,” he said.

“How?”

“All it takes to clear a load from customs is the right documentation. I know someone in the main office here who can create that with a few keystrokes.”

“And then what?”

“We put it on a truck and drive it wherever you want it to go.”

“It sounds too simple.”

“It’s the flaw of a big system. Pack Leader processes so many shipments daily that adding one more to the schedule won’t make a ripple. One hand doesn’t know what the other hand is doing. And the company is so well established, it’s above suspicion.”

“Aren’t there tracking mechanisms?”

“Sure, there’s an order number, but once it’s in the system, there would be no reason for anyone except the client to access it,” he said, raising his voice over the roar of another jet. He guided her back to the stairs that had brought them to the roof. “I’ve been transporting merchandise into the country by piggybacking it with legitimate goods for years. This company has been a gold mine, and the suits at the top don’t even know it.”

“But what about the driver? Wouldn’t he have to be in on it?”

“In this case, I’ll fix it so I would handle Volski’s shipment personally.”

“How?”

He didn’t reply until they had stepped into the stairwell and the door had swung shut behind them, muffling the noise of the plane. “By putting on a uniform, walking into the yard and driving out with a truck.”

She shook her head. “Stealing a truck would bring too much attention.”

“I didn’t say I would steal it.”

“Then how will you get it?”

The light over the stairs was bright enough to reveal a glimmer of humor in his expression. “Easy. I work here.”

Kelly stared. Was that a smile? It was only a shift of a few facial muscles, a soft crinkling of the skin at the corners of his eyes, a deepening of the lines beside his mouth, yet it hinted at a warmth she hadn’t seen before. It was so at odds with his warrior demeanor that she found herself intrigued. What would it be like to see him smile fully, or maybe to hear him laugh?

Wait. What was that he had said? “You work here?” she asked.

“You’re welcome to check that out, too. My name’s on the Pack Leader payroll as a relief driver. There isn’t a vehicle with wheels that I don’t know how to handle.”

Her mind clicked back on track as she evaluated the potential of his scheme.

One hand doesn’t know what the other hand is doing.

This was exactly what she’d been looking for. She had enough information now to set the deal into motion.

She felt a stirring of regret over what would happen to this man when it was over, but she tried to ignore it. With Jamie’s future at stake, she couldn’t afford the luxury of a conscience.

She did her best to disregard the warmth she sensed in Nathan’s almost-smile, too. It made no difference. After tonight, they would never see each other again.

It looked as if she had found the perfect scapegoat.

Although it was 2:00 a.m., the chandelier that hung in the three-story foyer of Stephan Volski’s fortified mansion blazed with light. It was a monstrous piece, heavy with crystal and studded with gilded eagles that were ornate enough to belong in a czar’s ballroom, which was where Stephan claimed it had originally hung. It was one of his prize possessions.

Kelly shuddered as she passed beneath it, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor. She knew that Stephan regarded her and Jamie as possessions, too. Prizes to be polished and put on display like his gaudy chandelier. They were tributes to his ego.

Sometimes she couldn’t believe she had once been naive enough to think otherwise. Could she really have been that young? Had the innocent woman she remembered ever truly existed?

There was a metallic clunking noise from behind her, followed by a series of electronic beeps as the guard at the front door locked up and reset the alarm.

Kelly kept walking. She knew there was no point looking back. It hurt too much. The only way out of this was to go forward.

The door of Stephan’s office was open when she reached it. Her shoes made no noise here—the hand-knotted carpet that covered the floor was thick enough to muffle a scream—so she took a moment to observe him in silence.

Despite the late hour, Stephan Volski was dressed in a light gray suit, his only allowance to comfort a slight loosening in the knot of his tie. His fine blond hair was neatly combed—he had it trimmed weekly. His elegantly handsome features and slender build gave him an air of sophistication. He appeared as harmless as a scholar as he bent his head over the papers that were scattered across his massive walnut desk.

Four years ago she had been dazzled by his charm, flattered by his attention and so hungry for love she hadn’t wanted to see past it. He’d been her Prince Charming, riding to the rescue, sweeping her into a fairy-tale future. Their affair had lasted one month. By the time Kelly had realized that what she saw in Stephan was an illusion, a carefully cultivated veneer to hide the ugliness beneath, she was already carrying his child.

No, not his child, she thought, curling her nails into her palms. Jamie was hers. All hers. There was nothing of his father in him except for the pale blue eyes. Her son was kind and loving and sweet and innocent and…

Dear God, she had to get him away from here before that changed.

Stephan rubbed his eyes and lifted his head. He gave an involuntary start when he saw her. He scowled and pushed his chair back from his desk. “You’re late.”

When they were in private, Stephan made no pretense of affection toward her—he had moved on to other women well before his child had been born—yet it suited his pride to let people believe that Kelly was his.

It suited her, too, by providing her with protection. Because the men she had to deal with believed she was Stephan’s girlfriend, they knew they could look but not touch.

Her true relationship with Stephan was a combination standoff and balancing act. As long as he had Jamie, Kelly would stay with Stephan, and as long as she stayed with Stephan, he would demand that she earn her keep by singing in his club and occasionally helping him with his business.

It astounded her that she had once thought his accent was romantic and his brooding silences were sensitive. How could she have allowed him to touch her?

Yet Nathan Rand was a criminal, just like Stephan. How on earth could she have found Nathan attractive? Why hadn’t she found his touch repulsive?

Dammit, hadn’t she learned anything?

“The meeting with Rand took longer than I expected.” She walked past the fireplace with its carved marble mantel and gilded screen to the table that held an ornate silver samovar, another item that had supposedly belonged in an imperial palace. Moving mechanically, she drew a cup of steaming water and fixed herself some tea. Not that she had ever developed a taste for Russian tea, but she needed something to keep her hands busy. “I just got in.”

“Tell me what happened.”

She added some sugar to her cup and stirred while she gave Stephan a summary of what she had learned from Nathan. “I think we should look for someone else,” she finished.

“Why?”

“Rand wants a percentage of our profits. He says it’s insurance so he can trust us.” She kept her gaze on her swirling tea. Stephan’s only weaknesses were his pride and his paranoia, so the best way to get him to agree to something was to suggest the opposite. For the same reason, she didn’t want him to know that giving Rand a percentage was her idea. It was insurance for her—without money up front, Rand would be less likely to bail on the deal.

“That would work in our favor,” Stephan said. “I can delay paying him his share. What percentage does he want?”

“After I saw his setup, we settled on thirty-five.”

Stephan pursed his lips as he considered that for a moment. Kelly guessed he was probably thinking of ways to cheat on the percentage. “We won’t look for anyone else,” he said finally. “We’ll go with Rand.”

She concentrated on keeping the spoon from rattling against the cup despite the sudden jump of her pulse. That had seemed too easy. Now for the next gambit. “I’m not sure we should trust him. He’s very…contained.”

“Are you losing your touch, Kelly?” Stephan lowered his voice slyly. “Or do Rand’s preferences lie in another direction?”

The implication that Nathan wasn’t heterosexual was so absurd, Kelly almost lost her concentration. The man put out pheromones that would be unmistakable to any female who possessed a pulse. She set the spoon down on the silver tray beneath the samovar. “Neither. He doesn’t seem to want supervision.”

“It’s not his call. We have too many customers depending on this shipment. If Rand says he doesn’t want supervision, he might have something to hide. We’ll have to keep a close eye on him until my merchandise is delivered. I’ve decided to bring it in next Friday.”

Kelly caught her breath. Friday? That was only a week away. In seven days, the nightmare would be over. And the seed of suspicion was planted. This was what she wanted. The pieces were falling into place better than she could have imagined.

Because while Stephan worried about trusting Nathan, and Nathan worried about trusting Stephan, Kelly planned to betray them both and disappear with Jamie.

The sheer daring of her plan terrified her. She knew how ruthless Stephan could be. If she failed to get away this time, she was certain she wouldn’t get another opportunity. He tolerated her presence in Jamie’s life because of their child’s age, but if he suspected for an instant that she was planning to double-cross him, he had the wealth and connections to move Jamie someplace where she would never find him.

Her hands trembled at the thought. Tea slopped down the front of her pants and onto the carpet. She put down the cup and grasped her pant leg to hold the scalding liquid away from her skin.

Stephan rounded his desk and walked to her side. “Is something wrong, Kelly?” There was no concern in his voice, only irritation. “You seem on edge.”

“It’s been a long day and it’s late.”

“Do not lie to me.” He narrowed his eyes. They were the same height when she wore flat heels, so his gaze bored into hers. His eyes were so much like Jamie’s, and yet so empty of warmth, the resemblance made her shudder. “I can see that something is troubling you,” he said.

Kelly felt a bubble of hysteria. She was about to cheat an egomaniacal heroin czar, put the blame on a drug smuggler who looked like an Indian warrior and she was facing the rest of her life on the run from both of them with her child.

What could possibly be troubling her?

“I know what it is.”

She pressed her tongue hard to the back of her front teeth, an old singer’s trick to stem the panic reaction and force her body to relax. God, he couldn’t know, could he? She’d been so careful.

“Gloria told me the boy got his hands on a gun.”

It took a second to change gears. With everything else going on, Kelly had pushed that particular nightmare to the back of her mind. At Stephan’s words, the image from this afternoon returned full force: Jamie in his playroom, his hair tousled as he backed out of the couch cushions, the sunlight gleaming from the pistol.

“You should have told me,” Stephan said. “Instead I heard it from the nanny.”

“You were busy,” Kelly said. “And I had to leave for the Starlight.”

“Simply because I do not spend as much time with our son as you do, don’t think his welfare doesn’t concern me. When he is old enough, he will be trained to take his place at my side.”

Trained? The prospect chilled her to her bones. She couldn’t let that happen. Whatever the cost, she had to get Jamie away before he fell under his father’s influence. “I spoke to the guards,” she said. She took a step back. “I told them not to bring their weapons into my and Jamie’s suite.”

“Pah!” He muttered a string of oaths in Russian. “That is not enough. I have dealt with it myself.”

“How?”

He returned to his desk and pressed a button on his phone. “Dimitri? Where’s Alex?”

A guttural, heavily accented voice came through the speaker. “In the basement, Mr. Volski.”

“Bring him to my office now.”

A few minutes later, the marble in the hall clattered with a set of heavy footsteps, along with a scuffing, thudding noise. The tall, blond Dimitri Petrovich, Stephan’s lieutenant, entered the room with a burly, middle-aged man in tow.

It was Alex Almari, a veteran guard who also served as one of Stephan’s enforcers. Kelly barely recognized him. His lower lip had been split open, the skin on his cheeks was raw from abrasions and his eyes were reduced to slits behind pulpy, purple swelling. He staggered a few steps sideways when Dimitri released his arm, then locked his knees and managed to stay on his feet.

Kelly pressed her fingers to her mouth. “Oh, my God. What happened to—”

“This is the imbecile who endangered the boy,” Stephan said.

Kelly swallowed hard. When she had seen the weapon in Jamie’s hands, she had been so shaken that if the person responsible for leaving the gun had been standing in front of her then, she probably would have struck him herself. She would do anything to protect her child.

But these injuries weren’t the result of a parent’s impulsive blow, they were from a methodical beating. Even though Alex Almari had probably inflicted far worse on others over the years, the sight of his face left Kelly sickened.

Stephan walked to the man and grabbed his chin to turn his face toward her. Fresh blood welled from Alex’s lip and trickled onto Stephan’s hand. “Do you not approve of my punishment, Kelly?”

“There shouldn’t be any guns allowed near Jamie,” she said. “That’s the only sure way to prevent it from happening again.”

“I prefer my way,” Stephan said. He stepped back, taking a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit to wipe the smears of blood from his fingers. “Dimitri?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Take Alex outside and shoot him. Use his own gun.”

“Stephan, no!” Kelly cried.

The gaze Stephan turned toward her froze her where she stood. “I value what’s mine, Kelly. Anyone who threatens my son deserves no mercy.”

“Please,” Alex said. The burly enforcer’s voice was distorted by his swollen face, his accent thick. Through the purpled slits over his eyes, his gaze was pleading. “It was…mistake. Didn’t mean…no harm.”

“He’s right, Stephan,” Kelly said. “Jamie’s fine. It was a mistake.”

Stephan glanced at Dimitri and held up his palm, then focused on Kelly once more. “If I spare Alex for you, what will you do for me, Kelly?”

Too late, she recognized the trap. Stephan knew her too well. Pride and paranoia might be his weaknesses, but sentiment was hers.

Damn! She was using her heart again instead of her head. She really hadn’t learned anything, had she? “What do you want, Stephan?”

“You think we shouldn’t trust Nathan Rand. To ensure we can, I want him here where we can keep track of his movements until the shipment is safely in our hands. And since you presented the deal, I believe it would be best if you continue to be my liaison with him.”

“I had only agreed to negotiate. That’s all I’ve ever done in the past. My part in this is over. I won’t participate in—”

“You have no reason to pretend squeamishness now.” Stephan’s gaze sharpened. “Or is there something you’re not telling me about this deal?”

Kelly jammed her tongue to her teeth hard enough to stop her breath. This complication was the last thing she needed.

“Kelly?”

“No,” she said. “I’ve told you everything.”

“Excellent, then we shall proceed.” Stephan flicked his hand toward Alex. “Take him back to the basement, Dimitri. Don’t shoot him. Cut off his trigger finger instead.”

Kelly gagged, fighting to keep her revulsion inside as the men moved away.

“I seldom give second chances, Kelly,” Stephan said. He folded his handkerchief, tucked it back in his pocket and returned to sit behind his desk. “You would be wise to remember that.”

Chapter 3

Kelly was good, Nathan thought, but tonight she wasn’t great. Tension stiffened her shoulders and clouded her face. It was as if a curtain had come down, or a light had dimmed inside her. Although her voice was on key and her timing was perfect, she was keeping her emotions under tight control. The passion that had suffused her performance the night before was missing.

Oh, she was still sexy as hell. She couldn’t help that. Just the sight of her standing in the spotlight, her eyes half-closed and her fingers wrapped around the shaft of the microphone was making Nathan’s palms sweat. The dress she wore tonight was black and covered her in front to the base of her throat, but in the back it plunged enticingly to the gentle rise of her buttocks.

It was all part of the act, he suspected. This was what Volski and the customers at his club would expect to see. Her appearance would please the crowd just as her voice would entertain them without making them uncomfortable. She packaged sex with class.

She sure had come a long way from singing in her church choir in Maple Ridge, Ohio.

He folded his arms over his chest, leaning one shoulder against the wall as he paused near the bar to watch her. He’d asked his personnel department to make some discreet inquiries into her background when he’d gone into the office this morning. What he’d learned had answered some questions, but had led to dozens more.

Kelly Elizabeth Jennings had been born twenty-six years ago, the only child of James and Cynthia Jennings. She had no criminal record and had never been arrested. How did a small-town girl, whose father ran a grocery store and whose mother gave piano lessons, get mixed up with Stephan Volski?

On the other hand, where a person started in life didn’t guarantee where they would end up. Nathan was a living example of that.

The set ended to a round of applause. Kelly flashed a smile to the audience and left the stage.

Nathan pushed away from the wall and followed her through a swinging door at the rear of the club. Before he had taken three steps into the corridor, a pair of men converged on either side of him and grasped his arms.

He tensed, automatically assessing his chances. The men were probably armed like the muscle who patrolled the main room of Volski’s club, but the narrow corridor would work in his favor. Their bulk was a disadvantage in close quarters. Too bad he’d given up his habit of carrying a switchblade in his boot. That would have been the easiest way to get out of this.

Had Kelly set him up? She had asked him to meet her here. If Volski hadn’t agreed to their deal, he might have ordered Nathan eliminated as a security precaution.

Damn, he had no logical reason to trust Kelly, and he probably shouldn’t have. After her performance the night before, both onstage and off, the only thing he was sure of was that she wasn’t what she seemed. Yes, she was an enigma, an intriguing woman, but she was Volski’s woman and Nathan should be cautious around her. The stakes were too high to allow room for sentiment.

Had living as Beliveau for ten years made him lose his edge?

It might be time to remind himself—and Volski’s people—where he’d come from. He hadn’t survived this long by being soft. Nathan flexed his arms and shifted his weight to the balls of his feet just as Kelly glanced behind her.

She stopped where she was and scowled at the men who held him. “Let him go,” she said. “That’s Rand. I’m expecting him.”

The men were too slow to respond for Nathan’s liking. He took a step forward and twisted to jerk his arms free, then gave each man a sharp nudge in the solar plexus with his elbows to discourage them from grabbing him again. He dusted off his sleeves while the men regained their breath. “You heard the lady,” he said. “This dance is already taken.”

The man on his left retreated fast, but his companion stood his ground, muttering something to the effect that Kelly wasn’t a lady.

Nathan turned to look at him and lifted one eyebrow. Without moving another muscle, he let the silence build from uncomfortable to threatening—a trick that he’d learned in his youth. He was only one-eighth Lakota Sioux, but he knew full well how to use his inscrutable Indian-brave look. “Sorry,” he said finally. “I missed that. What did you say?”

The man’s gaze wavered. “I didn’t say nothin’.”

Nathan decided he’d made his point. Without another word, he continued down the corridor.

The room Kelly led him to was long and narrow, with stark white walls and a clean, white tile floor. A rack of colorful dresses, each encased in a clear plastic dry-cleaner’s bag, was set along one wall. Across from it, a table cluttered with various bottles and tubes sat beneath a mirror ringed with lights. Even without those clues, Nathan would have known this was Kelly’s dressing room, because as soon as he followed her over the threshold, he was enveloped by her scent.

She closed the door and brushed past him. She wore her hair swept up in a rhinestone-studded clasp tonight, leaving nothing to detract from the graceful line of her bare back. Nathan had to shove his hands into the pockets of his pants so he wouldn’t reach out for her.

What was it about this woman? His senses were threatening to short-circuit his brain.

“I apologize for the less than friendly reception you got back there,” she said. “One of the guards at the estate had an…accident, so Stephan had to make some personnel changes. No one had a chance to tell those two who you are.”

“Then I take it he wants to go forward with our deal?”

“Yes, he certainly does.” She picked up the gold dress she had worn the night before from the back of a chair and gestured for him to sit. “Stephan wants to bring the shipment into O’Hare next week. Friday, to be exact. Can you have the transportation arranged and the necessary paperwork prepared by then?”

Nathan crossed one ankle over the other and leaned his shoulders against the door. Finally! “No problem. I’ll have my end ready.”

“And to make sure you do, Stephan has asked me to be your liaison.”

“My liaison? What does that entail?”

“I’ll be overseeing your end.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s the way Stephan wants it.”

“Why?” he repeated.

“To ensure our mutual interests.”

“In other words, your boyfriend expects you to stay chummy so you can spy on me, right?”

She draped the dress over her arm and brushed at the folds. “If I say yes, is that going to help our negotiations or hurt them?”

He smiled inwardly at her comeback. It was exactly what he had asked her the night before. He enjoyed the glimpses of Kelly’s intelligence even more than the glimpses of her body.

Still, having her around was a complication he didn’t need. He couldn’t afford to have anyone scrutinizing his actions, especially a woman he hadn’t yet figured out. Even under the best of circumstances, it wouldn’t be easy to set up the sting that would deliver the drugs and Volski’s gang to the feds. The clock was ticking on his debt.

Damn Tony and his bargain.

“And just how are you supposed to keep an eye on me, Kelly?” he asked. “I don’t have a Mrs. Rand who would object, but from what I’ve heard about your boyfriend, he wouldn’t look too kindly on either of us if you moved in with me. I’d prefer to keep all the body parts I was born with.”

Her fingers suddenly clenched, crumpling the fabric of the dress she held into a tight ball. “I’m not responsible for what Stephan does.”

Nathan straightened up from the door, surprised by the vehemence of her response.

“And from the way I saw you handle Stephan’s watchdogs just now,” she continued, “I believe you can take care of yourself, whatever happens.”

It almost sounded as if she were trying to warn him. “What does that mean?”

She flexed her fingers to release her hold on the dress and tossed it back on the chair where it had been. “Where did you learn to fight like that, Nathan?” As if it was an afterthought, she moved her lips into a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You moved so fast, I could hardly see it. I hope you’re not that fast with everything. There are some things that are best done…slowly.”

He regarded her curiously. She had gone into her sex-kitten mode in a bid to change the topic, but this time it wasn’t working. He was far more interested in what he’d seen before she’d put on that smile. He walked past the chair to stand in front of her. “I learned how to use the particular move you saw when I was eight.”

“You must have been very precocious.”

“No, just resourceful. My stepfather liked little boys. I didn’t let him like me.”

The smile disappeared like the illusion it had been. Her gaze clouded with horror. “My God,” she murmured. “Your stepfather?”

“Well, he wasn’t legally my stepfather. He never married my mother.”

She touched his arm. “Oh, Nathan. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s like you said. I learned to take care of myself.”

Her hand shook against his sleeve. “Didn’t your mother…” She swallowed. “She must have tried to leave, didn’t she? For your sake?”

“No, she never left. I did.” He covered her hand with his. “Why did you, Kelly?”

“What?”

“Why did you leave home? What made you trade the church choir in Maple Ridge for Volski’s nightclub in Chicago?”

She stared at him, her lips parted in shock, then she pulled her hand away from his so fast she stumbled backward. She came up against the table beneath the mirror, knocking over several small bottles.

Nathan caught her by the shoulders to steady her, careful to keep his grip gentle. He’d wanted to take her off guard with the question—that’s why he’d led up to it by giving her a piece of his past—but he hadn’t anticipated this strong a reaction.

Could his gut be right? Was it possible that beneath the act she put on she was innocent?

He had to find out before she got swept up in the same net that would catch her boyfriend. He leaned down to bring his face level with hers. “Were you running from abuse the way I was, Kelly? Is that why you ended up with Volski?”

“No. My parents are wonderful. They—” She shook her head. A lock of hair slipped loose from the rhinestone clasp and uncoiled at the nape of her neck. “How did you know about me?”

“I have connections. I asked around.”

“My life is none of your business.”

“I disagree. If we’re going to work together, everything about you is my business.”

She was struggling to draw in her emotions, but she wasn’t succeeding. “You’ve got the wrong idea. Our relationship isn’t personal, Nathan. It doesn’t give you the right to ask questions like this. I realize it might have seemed as if I was leading you on last night, but—”

“No, Kelly, I knew what you were doing. It’s why you’re doing it that bothers me.” He felt her tremble under his palms. He stroked his thumbs along her shoulders. “What’s really going on? I could tell by your singing that something was troubling you tonight.”

She made an odd sound in her throat. “What could possibly be troubling me?”

“If it’s something to do with this heroin deal, I need to know before next week. I’m not going to work with you if you’re not a hundred percent on board. Tell me now, are you a willing participant?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Why won’t you answer?”

“Moving that heroin shipment is important to all of us, Nathan. Stephan knows he can count on me, and I intend to do everything I can to make sure it goes off precisely as planned.”

Had she answered his question? He wasn’t sure. “How did you get from a small town in Ohio to here?”

“I took a Greyhound.”

“Were you running?”

“Yes. From boredom. If you’d been to Maple Ridge you would understand.”

He touched the back of his hand to her cheek. She would have been easier to believe if he hadn’t heard the note of yearning in her voice. “How did you meet Volski?”

“It’s no secret.” She tipped her head away from his touch. “I waited tables by day to pay my rent and sang for tips at a piano bar by night until Stephan offered me a job at this club. I took it.”

“And you stay because…?”

“Because he pays me well and dresses me fabulously. It’s as simple as that.”

He was certain she was lying. There was far more to her story than this. He laced his fingers through the lock of hair that had come loose and cupped her nape. His gaze dropped to her mouth.

Never had he wanted to kiss a woman more than he did now. He couldn’t explain it. The urge was deeper than sex and too primitive for logic. He wanted to fit his lips to hers and taste whatever truth she kept hidden, and it had nothing to do with Volski or the drugs or the debt he had to pay.

His grip tightened. He lifted his gaze to hers and saw that her eyes had darkened, the pupils expanding against a rim of vibrant green. He saw confusion…and a reflection of his own desire.

The moment stretched. It was madness to think about giving in to this attraction. He knew it, and he was sure that she did, too. Yet he leaned closer, his gaze blurring, his senses filling with her nearness, until the soft exhalation of her breath warmed his lips.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

He felt the word more than he heard it. “Kelly…”

She slipped her hand between them, steepled her fingers on his chest and pushed him back.

He let her do it, knowing he should be thankful, hating the fact that he wasn’t.

“You still have the wrong idea,” she said. “All I’m interested in from you is business, that’s it. As I told you before, this isn’t personal.”

“If you’re going to spend the next week spying on me, it’s going to get damn personal.”

“It doesn’t have to.” She slipped sideways along the dressing table until she could step clear of him. “Stephan’s estate has eighty-seven acres. The main house has fifty-five rooms and there is enough guest accommodation on the property to house a small army. Unless we have business to do or you need to leave the estate, we probably won’t even see each other.”

“Whoa, what’s this about the estate?”

“I’m not going to be moving in with you, Nathan. It’s the other way around. Until the deal is done, Stephan wants you to stay with us.”

The rhythm of the words was soothing, as familiar and well-worn as the rabbit Jamie clutched. Kelly pitched her voice low, savoring the peaceful hush of the evening routine. She had chosen Robert Munsch’s Love You Forever tonight. She remembered her own mother reading it to her. They would snuggle together on the bed, just as she was doing with Jamie, only that bed had been crammed under the eaves of a bedroom a quarter the size of this one.

Kelly had liked the way the ceiling had sloped over her head. It hadn’t felt cramped, it had felt cozy. In the summer, the breeze through her window had brought the sound of rustling leaves from the big maple in the front yard and the train whistle from the crossing at the bend of the highway. In the winter, she would curl up under the same quilt that her mother had used as a child, the one her grandmother had embroidered with nursery rhyme characters.

“‘I’ll love you forever,’” Kelly read. “‘I’ll like you for always. As long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.’”

The words were a chorus that was repeated throughout the story, a song from a mother to her child. Kelly carried them in her heart. Whenever she needed to hear them, she could call up the memory of that bedroom in the house in Maple Ridge and it all came back. Not just the sounds and the images, but the feelings: safety, comfort, belonging and, above all, the persistence of love.

She brushed a kiss on the top of her son’s curls before she turned the page. When she had been a child, she had listened to her mother’s voice more than to the words. She hadn’t understood the emotion she’d heard—it wasn’t until she’d had a baby of her own that she did—yet she hadn’t been too young to understand the power of a voice.

That was when Kelly had first dreamed of being a singer.

Would her mother still love her if she knew what Kelly had become?

She blinked hard to stop the rush of tears. Damn that Nathan Rand for stirring up the past with his questions yesterday. Sometimes she could go for days without thinking about it, but the home and the family she’d left behind were too much a part of her to forget for long.

She could never go back. Let her parents believe she was still chasing her dream. They didn’t know it had become a nightmare.

Yet it wasn’t all a nightmare. She looked down at Jamie. Despite how he’d come into the world, she could never regret having this child. He was a gift. He was her reason for drawing breath. “‘As long as I’m living,’” she whispered, “‘My baby you’ll be.’”

She sighed as she felt her eyes fill once more. She loved this story, but it always made her cry.

She closed the book and reached behind her to set it on the shelf above the headboard. Jamie’s eyelids fluttered. He pulled his rabbit against his cheek, his lips working sleepily as his thumb inched toward his mouth. He had started dozing off a while ago, and now his body was completely lax as he lay curled on her lap, his head on her chest. He had wanted to wear his racing-car pajamas tonight, so red Ferraris decorated the flannel that covered his feet. She wrapped her hand around his toes, marveling at the miracle he was.

It was times like these that she lived for. With her child safe in her arms, the world contracted to just the two of them. He would always have her love, but there was so much more that she wanted to give him. While Stephan spent extravagantly on Jamie’s material needs, there were things money couldn’t buy. Jamie needed to play with children his own age. He needed a normal environment, good influences and positive role models. He deserved a future free from the taint of crime.

And in five more days…

She blotted her eyes on her sleeve and moved her gaze to the window. Through the dusk that shadowed the grounds, she could see a light in the apartment over the garage where Nathan was staying. He had surprised her. She had assumed he would offer some resistance to living at the estate as Stephan had suggested. Nathan seemed astute enough to realize that Stephan’s hospitality was a ploy to intimidate him, yet first thing this morning, she had heard the rumble of his motorcycle as he’d driven through the gates.

At the sound, she hadn’t been able to stop the crazy leap of her pulse.

He was a criminal, she kept reminding herself. He was like Stephan. He had no qualms about bringing two tons of misery into the country.

Yes, she knew all that, yet she couldn’t help feeling there was more to him.

He’d been matter-of-fact when he’d told her about that horror from his childhood. There had been no condemnation in his voice when he’d mentioned his mother, either. From the sound of it, he’d learned to take care of himself early on. He had intelligence, drive, and an impressive insight into people. How different might his life have been if he’d been given a better start?

And what would Stephan do to him when the heroin he was moving went missing?

I’d prefer to keep all the body parts I was born with.

Like a cold draft on the back of her neck, the words Nathan had spoken yesterday returned. The comment had been half in jest, but given Stephan’s track record, Nathan had been closer to the truth than he’d realized.

Why couldn’t he have been crass and rude? If he had ogled her rather than looking her in the eye, if he had come right out and propositioned her, wouldn’t he be easier to dismiss from her conscience?

Instead, for the past day she’d found herself haunted by the image of an eight-year-old Nathan forced to defend himself, just as she continued to be haunted by his almost-smile and that almost…kiss.

Kelly returned her gaze to Jamie. This child was her priority. For his sake, she couldn’t let her resolve weaken. She would do anything for her baby.

Wouldn’t she?

Nathan checked the luminous dial on his watch as he jogged past the tennis courts, careful to keep his pace steady. He was estimating the distances to various points in the estate by keeping track of how long it took him to jog it. He was also scouting out possible escape routes, but he had yet to find any way in or out other than the main gate.

For someone who was as paranoid as Volski was turning out to be, it was a good setup. The heavily wooded acreage was extremely private and enclosed by a twelve-foot-high, well-lit, electrified fence. Not only was the perimeter of the grounds patrolled by guards, the men who worked here also lived here. When they weren’t on duty watching for trespassers, they kept an eye on each other. Even though the sun had set thirty minutes ago, Nathan had passed—and had been noticed by—more than half a dozen men.

The estate would be as tough to break out of as it would be to break into.

Nathan detoured around a series of terraced gardens that bordered the swimming pool and chose a path that led around the house. It was a long run, since the yellow-brick three-story building sprawled outward in two angled wings. And despite the security provided by the guards and the perimeter fence, the area between the wings was hidden behind a high stone wall covered with ivy. What was in there? A courtyard? More gardens?

Nathan reached the front of the house and noticed that the upper floors were dark, except for the glow from a large bay window near the far end. Kelly had mentioned there were fifty-five rooms. Which one did she sleep in? Was she already in bed?

Was Volski there with her?

Something ugly and violent went through him at the thought.

I look forward to a long and profitable association with you, Mr. Rand. That’s what Volski had said when he’d met him this afternoon. Although Nathan had photos of the Russian in the files he had gathered, that had been the first time he’d been face-to-face with the man he had to bring down.

Volski had been precisely what Nathan had expected. Arrogant, pretentious and coldly calculating. He’d furnished his house like a palace and had dressed himself like nobility. The thugs he’d surrounded himself with called him “sir.”

Kelly had sat on the edge of Volski’s desk throughout the meeting, looking beautiful and composed as she sipped tea from a gold-rimmed china cup, the perfect accessory to complete her boyfriend’s image.

Nathan had been pursuing this man for more than a month. There should have been nothing in his head except the task in front of him.

Instead, his mind had been filled with Kelly.

From what he’d observed since he’d arrived here, she was Volski’s girlfriend and willing partner, but Nathan couldn’t picture those two together. He didn’t want to picture those two together. When he did, it stirred feelings that were as primitive as the desire to kiss her that he felt every time he looked at her mouth.

His knuckles twinged. He glanced down and saw that he’d tightened his hands into fists. Forcing them open, he turned his back on the house and ran down the driveway. He checked his watch one last time, then slowed to a walk as he approached the long yellow-brick building that housed Stephan’s fleet of cars.

The guest apartment Volski had assigned to him had been built into the space under the peak of the garage roof and as a result it was enormous, extending the full length of the building. Volski had claimed it would provide Nathan with privacy, but in reality, it did the opposite. The only way to reach the apartment was by an outside staircase, and since the staircase was in full view of the adjacent carriage house where several of the guards lived, all of Nathan’s comings and goings would be observed and reported on more easily than if he’d been staying at the main house.

Nathan closed the door behind him and peeled off his T-shirt as he headed down the hall to the main bathroom. The place was decorated with overblown opulence. The floors were green marble, the picture frames were gilded with gold and the furniture was heavy and dark, with carved wooden legs and red velvet upholstery.

Nathan missed the clean, airy lines of his downtown penthouse. The furniture there was low and sleek, with nothing to detract from his view of the lake and the paintings on his walls. Yet as long as he was posing as Rand, it would be safer not to return there, anyway. Not only did staying here simplify his cover, it would allow him to gather more information aboutVolski’s operation.

Was Volski doing the same with him? Nathan didn’t think the man’s paranoia extended to electronic eavesdropping—from what Nathan had observed, Volski’s methods weren’t that subtle—but just in case it did, he reasoned a bathroom would be the least likely room to be bugged. With the water of the shower running, he slipped his cell phone out of the Velcro-sealed pocket of his running shorts and thumbed in the number of Tony Monaco.

As usual, the ringing was interrupted by a series of clicks as the call was rerouted. Tony had four houses on this continent that Nathan knew of, not counting the island in the Caribbean. It was anyone’s guess which place he would be using on a given day.

There was a second set of clicks before the call was finally picked up. An odd hissing noise swelled in the background. The distinctive deep voice that came through the receiver was like granite wrapped in velvet. “Talk.”

He pressed the phone tighter to his ear and blocked his other ear with the heel of his hand. “Tony, it’s Nathan.”

“Where are you?”

“Volski’s estate.”

The background hissing faded. There was a muted scraping sound, like cast iron sliding across metal—a pan being taken off a stove?—then the clink of cutlery against china. “I’m assuming that is by choice,” Tony said.

“More or less. He doesn’t entirely trust me.”

“That was to be expected.” He paused briefly. When he spoke again, it sounded as if he were chewing. “You’ve had more than a month, Nathan.”

The reminder had been spoken mildly, but that didn’t diminish its impact. Tony Monaco wasn’t the kind of man who needed to raise his voice to get his point across. His actions and his reputation did that for him. At one time, he had been the heir to a criminal empire that would have made Volski’s operation look like a mom-and-pop corner store. Although Tony directed his energy toward other pursuits now, he hadn’t come that far from his roots.

Nathan’s pulse, still elevated from his run, took an extra leap. “I will pay you back, Tony.”

“I hope you do. You were one of the first to join the organization, and I’ve enjoyed watching your success over the years. You’ve invested the profits from your business wisely. What are you worth now? Seventy million? Seventy-five?”

At current market value, his stock portfolio and real estate amounted to closer to eighty, not counting his art collection, but Nathan knew the exact figure was irrelevant. It wasn’t money that Tony wanted.

“You’ve been an asset to Payback,” Tony continued, “but I can’t make any exceptions, even for you.”

“I knew the rules going in,” Nathan said. “I’m not asking for exceptions. The deal’s set for this Friday.”

Liquid splashed into a glass. “All right,” Tony said. “What do you need?”

“A name. A contact in the FBI I can trust to bring in for the end game.”

“I’ll have someone get back to you on that. Which number are you using?”

Nathan recited the number for the direct line to his office at Pack Leader. He wouldn’t be going back there as Beliveau until this deal was finished—he’d tied up as many loose ends as he could and had told his staff he was taking a vacation before he’d come to the estate this morning. Still, it would be safer to retrieve the message from his office voice mail there than to risk getting a call from the FBI on this phone.

But if Friday didn’t go as planned, he wouldn’t have an office or voice mail. He wouldn’t have Pack Leader Express.

Nathan ended the call, stripped off the rest of his clothes and stepped into the shower, hoping the hot water would ease some of the knots from his muscles.

It was no use. The tension he felt was too deep for a run or a shower to loosen. In fact, it had been building for ten years, ever since the day he had joined Payback.

Payback. It was an organization as well as a philosophy. A decade ago, Tony had provided Nathan the new identity and the financial backing that had enabled him to turn his life around. Because of Tony, Nathan had given up crime. In return, Nathan had to pay back the favor by bringing another criminal to justice.

Tony had waited ten years before calling in the debt. Then two months ago, he had chosen Stephan Volski as Nathan’s target. Once Volski and his heroin-smuggling ring were behind bars, Nathan’s debt would be paid in full.

But if he failed to pay his debt to Tony, Nathan would lose everything that Tony’s help had allowed him to build: his wealth, his company and his respectable new life.

He wouldn’t just be playing Nathan Rand anymore, he would be him.

He would do anything to keep that from happening.

Even if it meant seeing Kelly Jennings arrested?

Nathan gritted his teeth, twisted the faucet to cold and ducked his head under the stream.

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