A scream tore from her throat when he came down on top of her

“Calm down. Damn it, it’s me. Jake.”

Leigh stopped struggling. A shudder moved through her when she realized who it was. At precisely the same time it struck her that every hard angle of his muscular body fit against hers with the utter perfection of a well-worn kid glove. Her body recognized his on some primal, instinctive level and responded. Breathing hard, trembling violently beneath him, she blinked the hair from her eyes, trying to make out his features in the semidarkness.

The sight of him hit her with the power of a hollow point bullet. Her heart dipped and then spun into a wild freefall. She stared at him, unable to move, a hundred emotions descending in a rush….

“Get off of me!” she cried.

Operation: Midnight Escape
Linda Castillo

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Linda Castillo knew at a very young age that she wanted to be a writer—and penned her first novel at the age of thirteen. She is the winner of numerous writing awards, including the Holt Medallion, the Golden Heart, the Daphne du Maurier and received a nomination for the prestigious RITA® Award.

Linda loves writing edgy romantic suspense novels that push the envelope and take her readers on a roller-coaster ride of breathtaking romance and thrilling suspense. She resides in Texas with her husband, four lovable dogs and an Appaloosa named George. For a complete list of her books, check out her Web site at www.lindacastillo.com. Contact her at books@lindacastillo.com Or write her at P.O. Box 577, Bushland, Texas 79012.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Jake Vanderpol—Six years ago this MIDNIGHT operative sold his soul to bring down his nemesis—and it cost him the only woman he’d ever loved. Will he make the same mistake twice?

Leigh Michaels—She’s running for her life from a killer who is obsessed with her. Can she trust Jake Vanderpol to keep her safe?

Ian Rasmussen—Escaped from prison, he doesn’t care about running away. All he cares about is revenge against the woman who testified against him. The woman he’d once loved.

Sean Cutter—Burned out from twelve years of deep undercover work for the CIA, he is facing his first professional crisis as lead agent for the MIDNIGHT team. He must decide if Jake Vanderpol is a rogue agent or a godsend.

Mike Madrid—A master computer hacker with a shady past. He was the only agent who knew where Jake and Leigh had fled. Did he give up their location to Rasmussen?

Rick Monteith—Ex-cop turned rookie agent. He will do anything to prove himself. When the test comes, will he be ready?

Derrick LeValley—This deputy U.S. Marshal accepted a cool one million dollars and became a fugitive from the law to help Ian Rasmussen escape from a federal prison. Will he live long enough to spend the money?

Ronald Waite—The star reporter for a tabloid who agreed to help the MIDNIGHT agency with a sting. Will he reveal his anonymous source under torture?

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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Prologue

Facing the bitter November wind, convicted international arms dealer Ian Rasmussen gazed at the bleak Missouri countryside. He breathed in deeply, savoring the sweet tang of freedom after six brutal years without it.

The semi’s diesel engine idled on the other side of the rest area, rumbling like thunder. According to the driver’s logbook the truck’s shipment of Italian furniture would be delivered to a furniture warehouse in Denver that very night. What the logbook didn’t reveal was that a hidden room had been built in the front section of the rig’s trailer—a ten-by-four-foot room complete with heat, a fully stocked wet bar, television set, satellite phone and a leather recliner.

Even on the run from every law-enforcement organization in the Midwest, Ian Rasmussen liked to travel in style.

Shivering with cold, the driver stood outside his door, smoking a cigarette. The passenger door swung open and Derrick LeValley, former deputy marshal, stepped out into the gray light of dusk. For a cool million dollars, Rasmussen had bought him off. The price had been steep, but worth every penny.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Rasmussen, but we have to go. The feds are expanding their search as we speak. It’s best if we keep moving until the situation cools down.”

Rasmussen turned to LeValley, who, just five hours ago, had walked into the Terre Haute Federal Prison with fake transport papers and had exited with him. LeValley had then taken him to this big rig and they’d been driving west ever since.

“I want to see the list,” Rasmussen said.

LeValley reached into the pocket of his coat and withdrew the computer printout. “You don’t know what it took to get my hands on this information. It cost a man his life. You owe me another fifty thousand.”

“You’ll get your money,” Rasmussen snapped, then turned his attention to the list. “How many names?”

“Two hundred plus.”

“Excellent.” Holding on to the printout that listed the new identities and addresses of over two hundred witnesses from the Witness Security Program database, Rasmussen felt a heady rush of power. There were a lot of people who would pay top dollar for this information. But he was only interested in one name. He flipped to the second page, his eyes scanning, seeking…

Leigh Michaels.

Her name was highlighted in yellow. Beneath it, her address had been underlined in blue ink—345 West Fourth Street, Apt. 310, Denver, Colorado.

Kelsey James was now Leigh Michaels.

She could change her name, but she couldn’t hide…

He ran his thumb over the name, and the old emotions began to churn inside him. Love that had putrefied into something darker than hatred. She had been a nobody when he’d met her. A waitress earning next to nothing. He’d taken her in. Given her everything a woman could ever want. He’d trusted her, loved her. He’d offered her his heart; she’d taken his soul. She’d thanked him with treachery, betrayed him in every way a woman could betray a man.

Now, if it was the last thing he ever did, he was going to make her pay.

For a dangerous moment he considered calling her. He wanted to hear her beautiful voice tremble with fear. He wanted her to know he was coming for her. She deserved to suffer, the way he’d suffered for six torturous years.

“Mr. Rasmussen, we have to go.” Derrick LeValley went to the cargo door and opened it.

Rasmussen folded the list and walked to the rig. “You have someone watching her?”

“Since yesterday. She’s on the move, but they’ve got her covered.”

“I want to be in Denver by dark.”

“We’re right on schedule.”

Rasmussen climbed into the trailer and headed toward the hidden room. There was much to do, but he couldn’t do any of it until he dealt with Kelsey. She came first, above all else. Only then could he think about the rest of his life.

He entered the hidden compartment. Sweat slicked his back when LeValley closed the door behind him. The old claustrophobia descended. But even sweating and shaking, he was aware of the list in his pocket, of her name taunting him with the promise of sweet revenge.

By nightfall he would have her in his sights. He would come down on her so fast she wouldn’t even know what hit her. Then he would take his time with her. He would make her pay for what she’d done. He closed his eyes, an image of her coming back to him with painful clarity. She’d been so innocent. So incredibly lovely….

Kelsey…

She’d cost him more than any man should ever have to pay. Six years of violence and humiliation. But sending him to prison wasn’t the worst of what she’d done. His lovely Kelsey had not only betrayed his trust, but his heart. She’d given her body to another man. A federal agent. The very man who’d destroyed his life. No woman did that to Ian Rasmussen and lived to tell about it.

Not even the most beautiful woman in the world.

Chapter One

Jake Vanderpol didn’t like surprises, especially nasty ones that came via his secure phone line in the middle of the night courtesy of the MIDNIGHT Agency.

“We’ve got a Code Red. All available agents report to duty ASAP. All unavailable agents are on standby. I repeat, Code Red…”

That was only the first in a series of bad news events. At 5:00 a.m. he was on the road and heading toward the MIDNIGHT Agency headquarters located in a small, nondescript building just west of Washington, D.C. A news junkie, he’d heard about the escape of Ian Rasmussen on the radio and just about ran his Hummer off the road.

By the time he swung the vehicle into the underground parking lot and jammed it into a reserved spot, he was on edge. He couldn’t stop thinking about the young woman who, six years ago, had helped him nail the international arms dealer. It was the one and only time Jake had ever gotten personally involved with a witness. The one and only time he’d ever crossed that line. A line that in the end had nearly cost him his job.

Even after all this time, he still saw her face when he closed his eyes. He still smelled her perfume mingling with the sweet scent of her skin. He still dreamed of her—hot, sweaty dreams that left him hard and aching and full of regret. Worse, he still wanted her with a ferocity that shook him to his core.

He’d chalked up more mistakes in the one week he’d known her than in his entire career. She made him crazy, and he’d nearly thrown it all away. But in the end, when it had come time for her to walk away and start her new life, she hadn’t looked back….

Shoving thoughts of the past away with the resolve of a man who did it far too often, Jake shut down the engine and hit the ground running. The MIDNIGHT Agency headquarters was lit up like a football stadium. At the front entrance two armed security officers nodded curtly when he flashed his badge. Rather than wait for the elevator, Jake ducked into the stairwell and took the steps two at a time to the third floor.

The instant he entered the hall he could hear voices coming from the “war” room. It was a large conference room that was transformed into a command center whenever there was a crisis. Jake figured the escape of a violent international arms dealer qualified as a crisis and then some.

He entered the room without knocking. All eyes swept to Jake. Four MIDNIGHT operatives sat around an oval conference table covered with paper. Two laptops were connected to a printer that was spitting out more paper.

Fellow operative Mike Madrid looked as if he’d been dragged from his bed, flogged and hastily dressed. A computer software hacker by trade, he was working on a laptop with one hand, gripping a cup of coffee with the other.

The two other agents in the room, Zack Devlin and Rick Monteith, didn’t meet his gaze, and Jake realized there was a reason he’d been the last team member called. That reason ticked him off.

“Looks like I missed the party,” Jake said to no one in particular.

The room went silent and tense, as if someone had tossed in a grenade and the agents could do nothing but wait for the explosion. Jake wasn’t sure if the impending confrontation would qualify as an explosion, but it was definitely going to be loud.

They shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, averting their eyes. Coffee was sipped, fingers drummed, pencils tapped.

The agency chief, Sean Cutter, sat at the head of the table, his blue eyes cold when they fastened on Jake. “This briefing is over,” he said.

Jake ignored his fellow operatives as they filed from the room. “Rasmussen is out and you didn’t bother calling me, damn it.”

“I’ve assigned other agents. They’re capable and—”

“This is my case.”

Cutter’s eyes flashed. “This is whomever’s case I see fit to assign it to.”

“I built it from the ground up—”

“You slept with your witness!” Cutter snapped. “You screwed it up and I have no intention of letting you do it again.”

“You know I’m the best man for the job,” Jake ground out.

“I know you’re too personally involved to be effective.”

Jake’s heart was pounding. He wanted to believe it was anger ricocheting through his body. But he could feel the fear pumping through him with every frenzied beat of his heart. He didn’t want to ask about Kelsey. He didn’t want to think about her or feel anything for her. But he did, and those emotions were tearing him up. He had to know if she was okay. Every agent who’d been in that room knew Rasmussen was going to go after her. He couldn’t bring himself to think about what would happen if he found her.

“Is she all right?” he asked.

“As far as we know.”

“What the hell do you mean as far as you know?”

The other man’s jaw flexed and Jake got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. “This is bigger than just Kelsey James,” Cutter said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Someone hacked into the Witness Security Program database.”

Disbelief and a deeper, darker fear reared inside him. “No way.”

“This hacker has names and addresses. Every agent I’ve got is scrambling. Every witness who’s ever gone into the Witness Security Program is in danger. We’re trying to prioritize, but how the hell do you prioritize when you have more witnesses than agents?”

Jake felt as if he’d been punched. “Rasmussen?”

“I don’t know, but the timing of it points to him. He certainly has the resources.”

He stared at his superior, his mind reeling as the repercussions of what he was being told hit home. “Where’s Kelsey James?”

Cutter looked away.

“For God’s sake, you don’t know, do you?”

“I had an agent check her apartment as soon as we heard. CNN just broke the news. She must have heard about Rasmussen and left before we could make contact.”

Jake swore. That sounded like Kelsey. Head-strong. Stubborn. Willing to take on the world all by herself if she had to. But she had to be running scared, and with good reason. If Rasmussen got his hands on her…

The thought made Jake break into a cold sweat. His protective instincts kicked in with a vengeance. “At this point it’s probably safe to assume he has her name and address.”

“This is not your case, Jake. I need you here. There are administrative—”

“Screw administrative!” Another curse burned through the air. “I’m not going to let him get her, Sean.”

“I’ve got another agent en route.”

“Come on! You’ve got two hundred federal witnesses to protect and twenty agents! Do the math!”

“We’re working with the U.S. Marshals Service to contain all the witnesses.”

Jake cursed.

“I need you here, Jake. But I need your head screwed on straight. If you can’t keep it together you need to walk away.”

“I’m not going to let him kill that young woman,” Jake ground out.

“She knew what she was getting into six years ago.”

“She knew. But so did we, didn’t we, Sean?”

“Don’t go there, Jake. You did your job, and so did I.”

“Yeah. Maybe a little too well.” Jake scrubbed a hand over his face, a harsh sound breaking from his throat. “Where is she?”

Cutter stared at him, his face as hard as a piece of granite. “Don’t make the wrong decision, Vanderpol. I covered for you last time this woman got under your skin. I won’t do it again.”

“Is that the way this is going to go down?” Jake asked.

“That’s the only way this can go down.”

Never taking his eyes from the other man’s, Jake removed his MIDNIGHT identification from his wallet and laid it on the conference table. Reaching beneath his jacket, he withdrew his government-issue service revolver and laid it next to the badge.

“Now you don’t have to cover for me,” he said, and then walked out the door.

A SLATE-GRAY PREDAWN SKY spat sleet as Leigh Michaels lugged her suitcase into the second-floor motel room and locked the door behind her. Fear had been her constant companion since fleeing her apartment in Denver.

She’d always known this terrible moment would come. Rasmussen was too powerful a man, his resources too far-reaching for any prison to contain him permanently.

Shaking, Leigh pulled the sleek H&K semiautomatic pistol from her waistband and set it on the night table, within easy reach. She didn’t bother unpacking, because there was always the chance she would be leaving quickly. She didn’t want to have to leave behind what few clothes and toiletries she owned.

She walked to the television and turned it to a cable news channel, hoping to hear that Rasmussen had been captured. The anchor immediately dashed her hopes. “An unidentified source has informed us that the database of the Witness Security Program was hacked into over the weekend. Over two hundred names of high-level federal witnesses have been stolen….”

Leigh felt each word like a vicious punch. For an instant she couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t think. She could feel the terror building inside her.

Ian Rasmussen had to be behind the theft of the database records. Even if the television wasn’t reporting the connection.

“Oh, God.” Standing abruptly, she put her hand to her stomach and choked back a sound of pure terror.

Ian Rasmussen knew her new identity. He knew her name. Her address.

For an instant she considered calling her old contact at the U.S. Marshals Service office in Boulder. Then she remembered what had happened the last time she’d put her trust in a government agency and nixed the idea.

The image of Jake Vanderpol flashed in her mind. She saw dark, intelligent eyes. Military-short hair. A lean face and chiseled mouth. A body as hard and breathtaking as the Rocky Mountains themselves.

She’d trusted him with her life. She’d given him her heart. Her body. A piece of her soul. He’d taken all of those things with a ravenousness that had left her half-crazy with the need for more. She’d fallen hard for the brooding agent. But the intimacies they’d shared hadn’t been enough to keep him from using her as a means to an end.

Shoving the memory back into its deep, dark hole, Leigh sat down hard on the bed and put her face in her hands. “Calm down,” she whispered into the silence of the room.

There was no way Rasmussen could have tracked her here. She’d been too cautious, watching out for cars traveling too close. She would have remembered seeing the same vehicle twice. No one had followed her.

Still, she knew it was best if she didn’t stay too long. She needed to keep moving. Once she’d put enough distance between her and Denver, she would stop in a new city, create a new identity, start a new life. It was her only hope of staying alive.

All she had to do was stay one step ahead of Rasmussen.

Glancing at the alarm clock on the night table next to the bed, she sighed. It was almost 7:00 a.m. She’d been driving most of the night. She needed a shower. Food. A few hours of sleep. Then she would hit the road again. If all went as planned, by tomorrow she would be in Kansas City. A place where she had no ties. No one had any reason to look for her there. All she had to do was stay alert and be cautious.

Feeling the hard tug of exhaustion, Leigh lay back on the bed, not bothering to take off her clothes or boots. The H&K was within easy reach, and she had a knife in her boot as backup in case she was caught unaware. But she didn’t think anything would happen. No one knew she was here.

But as sleep overtook her, it occurred to her that she’d underestimated Ian Rasmussen once before, and it had cost her more than she ever could have imagined.

LEIGH JOLTED AWAKE. Lying on her side, she remained perfectly still, listening, her heart pounding. The room around her was cold and silent and dimly lit. The clock on the night table told her she’d been asleep just over an hour. What the hell had wakened her?

In the past six years Leigh had learned to trust her instincts. Right now those instincts were telling her something was wrong. She could feel gooseflesh racing along her arms.

The doorknob squeaked. She sat up, her heart hammering like a piston in her chest.

A second later the door flew open and banged against the wall. A man looking to be as large as a mountain in the semidarkness of the room rushed in. She scrambled across the bed, her hand groping for the H&K on the night table. A dozen scenarios rushed through her mind as her hand closed around the grip. No time to think. Aim and fire, just like at the shooting range where she’d practiced so many hours in preparation of this terrible moment.

She brought up the gun, swung the weapon around. An instant later, a strong hand clamped around her wrist. “Drop it,” came a growled command.

But Leigh knew if she let go of the gun she was as good as dead. She screamed when he squeezed her wrist. “No!”

A gunshot exploded. Plaster rained down from the ceiling. She fought for control of the weapon with all her might, but even with all the self-defense classes she’d taken in the past six years she wasn’t prepared for the strength and speed of her attacker.

A final, painful squeeze to her wrist and the gun clattered to the floor. The last of her hope fled as she heard the intruder kick it away.

He’s going to kill me, she thought.

Knowing she had to act quickly if she wanted to live, Leigh used her free hand to reach for the knife in her boot. She’d barely gotten her fingers around the rubber grip when he locked both her wrists in his hands and shoved her back onto the bed. She tried to knee him, but he twisted aside just in time then came down on top of her.

She lashed out with her feet. But he was heavy and strong and overpowered her with ease.

“Calm down, Kelsey. Damn it, it’s me. Jake.”

Everything inside her froze at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice. Leigh stopped struggling, her body suddenly recognizing his on some primal, instinctive level. Every hard angle of his muscular body fit against hers with the perfection of a well-worn glove.

Breathing hard, she stared at him, unable to move, a confusion of emotions descending in a rush.

He glared down at her with dark eyes. His thin nose looked as if it had been broken and never properly set. His chiseled mouth was pulled into a grimace. But she knew from experience that his mouth could be gentle, too. That it could kiss a woman senseless if she wasn’t careful….

“Get off me!” she cried.

His nostrils flared with every labored breath. He was staring at her as if she were a ghost and he couldn’t quite believe he was seeing her. “Just be still,” he said. “Don’t fight me. You know I won’t hurt you.”

But Leigh knew that was the one thing Jake Vanderpol did exceptionally well. Something she would not let him do again. “You have no right to be here. To break into my room—”

“I’m here to save your life,” he cut in. “If you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll let me do it.”

Chapter Two

Jake knew better than to think of how good she felt beneath him. She was a witness desperately needing protection. At least, until Rasmussen was captured or the U.S. Marshals Service could take over. But when it came to Kelsey James, the logic and the good sense he’d always prided himself on never so much as entered the picture: not six years ago when he’d crossed too many lines to count; not now because he had a pretty good idea that he was going to be crossing even more.

Staring into her vivid blue eyes with her body warm and soft against his, he prayed he could keep a handle on things this time.

Not bloody likely.

Feeling his body harden the way it did every time he so much as thought of her, he shifted, then pushed away, rose and offered his hand. Ignoring him, she scrambled across the bed and jumped to her feet.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

“I make a living finding people,” he said. “Give me a break.”

Her gaze flicked toward the door, and he realized for the first time how badly he must have frightened her. But he hadn’t had a choice. He’d known that if he’d taken the time to knock, she would have gone straight out the window.

“Do you have any idea how close you came to getting shot?” she asked.

“The day you can get the drop on me is the day I deserve a bullet.” He crossed to the door, looked both ways, then closed it and locked it. “Why didn’t you call your coordinator at the U.S. Marshals Office? Let them relocate you, protect you until that son of a bitch is caught?”

“In case you missed the news, it was a deputy marshal who helped him escape. Someone inside the U.S. Marshals Office gave it up, Jake. How can you expect me to trust them with my life?”

Wishing he could dispute that, he strode to the window, parted the curtains and surveyed the parking lot.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He turned to her. “I’m going to take you to a safe house.”

“I don’t want to go to a safe house. I sure as hell don’t want to go with you.”

“You don’t stand a chance of surviving on your own. It’s only a matter of time before Rasmussen finds you. We both know what will happen when he does.”

A tremor went through her. “He won’t find me.”

“Don’t bet your life on it. If he can hack into the Witness Security Program database, finding you will be a walk in the park.”

“I know how to disappear. A new name. A new city. I can do it and I don’t need your help.”

Pulling the Glock from the shoulder holster beneath his coat, he checked the clip, then shoved it back into its leather sheath. “You were in the database. He’s got your new name. Your latest address. As far as we know he could have had you under surveillance for quite some time.”

“I know how to take care of myself.”

“Not when it comes to Rasmussen.”

She walked around the bed and got in his face. “I don’t want you here. I don’t need you. I don’t need your help. I can sure as hell do without your brand of protection.”

The words stung, but Jake didn’t let himself react. He figured he’d had that one coming after what happened six years ago. He’d never forgiven himself for not getting to her in time to keep her from going back into the lion’s den…

He may not have seen her for six years, but he’d kept track. She might think she was prepared, with her brown belt in karate and handgun training, but there was no way she was equipped to handle this on her own. She might talk tough; she might even look tough. But he saw the fear in her eyes. He doubted she had a clue what six years in a cage could do to a man like Rasmussen.

“I just want to help you,” he said. “Let me take you to the safe house.”

She stuck out her chin. “Or maybe you think I’m your ticket to Rasmussen. Maybe you want a repeat performance of how things went down the last time. You got that promotion after you nabbed him, didn’t you? Isn’t that what this is all about? Your ego? Your job? Get your man at any cost, including your own soul? Or in that case, it was my soul, wasn’t it?”

Jake just stared at her. He wondered if she really believed what she was saying. If she really hated him that much after everything they’d been through. If she remembered as keenly as he did that not everything that happened between them six years ago had been bad.

“All I want is to keep you safe,” he said. “I figure I owe you that much.”

“Forgive me for not believing you, but that’s the same thing you told me last time. Right before you used me.”

That she could believe that about him made him feel like a son of a bitch. Six years ago his decision to use her as bait and set a trap for Rasmussen had occurred before he’d spent a week in that safe house with her. Before he’d touched her. Before he’d kissed her. Before he’d slept with her. Long before his heart had gotten involved….

In the end she had been the one to carry out the plan—without his blessing. To this day he didn’t know what she’d had to do to get the goods on Rasmussen. That burning question had been tormenting him for six years.

Jake scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “You went behind my back—”

“Sending me to Rasmussen was your idea,” she said.

That much was true. “I tried to abort the sting.”

Her smile was cool. “You were too late, though, weren’t you?”

“You were angry when you found out about the plan,” he said. “You get reckless when you’re angry.”

“We both got reckless, wouldn’t you say?”

He didn’t know what she’d had to do to get Rasmussen to fess up on tape. He didn’t know if she’d had to compromise herself…or worse. The only thing that was crystal clear about any of this was that she blamed him.

Jake bore that blame like a lead weight.

“Damn it, Kelsey—”

“Don’t call me that. Kelsey James no longer exists. My name is Leigh.” She glanced over at her suitcase. “I have to go.”

Jake clamped his jaws together and struggled for patience. “Let me take you to the safe house.” He stepped toward her. “I mean it. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I’ll take my chances with Rasmussen. At least with him I know where I stand. He might be brutal, but he’s a straight shooter.”

The words slashed like a knife. Leigh Michaels was no longer the twenty-one-year-old farm girl she’d been six years ago. She’d blossomed into a stunning beauty with the street smarts of an undercover cop. The hard knocks she’d taken showed in her shadowed eyes. In the mouth that no longer smiled so readily. But she was still so beautiful it hurt just to look at her, and Jake felt the pain of it all the way to his bones.

Rounding the bed, she picked up the H&K he’d taken away from her earlier. With the ease of a woman who knew how to handle a firearm, Leigh checked the clip, then sheathed the weapon in her waistband. She walked over to her single suitcase, picked it up and started toward the door.

Before opening it, she turned and looked at him. Her eyes slid down his body. She hadn’t meant the slow perusal in a sexual way, but he felt her gaze like the soft caress of fingertips over sensitive skin and his body jumped in response.

“Don’t try to come after me, Jake. I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“It’s not the first one, is it?”

“Could be your last.” He watched her, wondering if any shred of what she’d felt for him six years ago was left inside her. “Don’t do this, Leigh. You’re going to get hurt.”

“I’ve already been hurt.” She smiled, and for a moment looked very much like the lovely young woman he’d fallen for six years ago. “See you around, Jake.”

She slipped through the door.

For several eternal seconds Jake stood next to the bed, his heart heavy with dread. There was no way he could let her walk away. No matter how careful she was, Rasmussen would find her, and Jake knew what would happen when he did. The thought sickened him.

Leigh might not want to be protected, but there was no way he could stand by and let her do this. Even if he had to use physical force. It was a route he hadn’t wanted to take, but the alternative was infinitely worse.

“Go get her, you damn fool,” he muttered, and started for the door.

CLUTCHING HER SUITCASE, Leigh started down the hall at a fast clip. Her heart was still wildly pounding from the shock of seeing Jake again. She couldn’t believe he’d found her. Couldn’t believe the old feelings were still there, when she’d spent so many years trying to exorcise them from her system.

The doors on either side of her blurred as she broke into a run. She wasn’t sure why she was running. Away from Jake and all the memories and feelings she’d struggled for so long to leave behind. But she knew that no matter how fast she ran she would never be able to outrun them.

She was midway to the stairs when a man rushed out of the alcove where the ice machine was. Leigh darted left, but he plowed into her with the force of a Mack truck. The impact sent her reeling. Her suitcase flew from her grip. Then his strong arms locked around her and spun her around.

She caught a glimpse of long hair pulled into a ponytail. Eyes full of violence. She reached for the H&K in her waistband but wasn’t fast enough. His hand shot out like a snake. Viselike fingers closed around her wrist and Leigh dropped the pistol.

“Try something stupid again and I’ll kill you.”

Leigh tried to twist away, but he slammed her against the wall. Pain radiated up her spine. Her scream was cut short when he slapped his hand over her mouth.

“Don’t make a sound or I’ll put a hole in you so big it’ll take the cops a week to find all the pieces.” He backed up the threat by jamming a pistol against her ribs. “You got that, pretty lady?”

Leigh jerked her head once. She just knew he had to be one of Rasmussen’s thugs.

Setting his forearm against her throat, the man glanced both ways. “You alone?”

She nodded, wondering where Jake was. “What do you want?”

“There’s a hefty pricetag on that pretty head of yours. Nothing personal, but I’m going to cash in.”

She cringed as he ran his hands swiftly and impersonally over her body. She prayed he wouldn’t find the knife in her boot.

Relief surged through her when he stepped back without patting down her calves. “We’re going to take the elevator down. Nice and easy and quiet. You got it?”

He stepped into the dim light of a wall sconce, and she got her first good look at him. He was the size of a woolly mammoth with eyes so pale they looked white. His face was pocked and angular. He wore an expensive trench coat. And he held a deadly looking semiautomatic pistol aimed at her heart.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He jabbed her ribs with the gun. “Start walking.”

Leigh glanced down the hall, but the door to her room remained shut. Jake was nowhere in sight. It suddenly occurred to her he might not have heard the commotion. That he could have been on the phone with his superiors. Or maybe he was going to let this man take her and lead him to Rasmussen….

She knew it was stupid considering this man could kill her at any moment, but the thought hurt the same way it had hurt her six years ago. Damn Jake to hell. She didn’t need him or his protection. She still had the knife, after all. All she had to do was wait….

The man motioned toward the elevator at the other end of the hall. “He wants you healthy, so don’t try anything stupid.”

Leigh’s legs were shaking so violently she could barely put one foot in front of the other. Dizzy with fear, she started toward the elevator.

Rot in hell, Vanderpol, she thought as she passed by the door to her room.

But as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she’d been secretly hoping Jake would burst from the room and save her. That hope dwindled as they neared the elevator. Leigh could take care of herself, but she was smart enough to know when she was out of her depth. The men who worked for Ian Rasmussen were in an entirely different league altogether. One that was vicious and deadly.

She was ten feet from the elevator when the sound of steel against steel stopped her. Jake, she thought, and spun. Her legs went weak when she saw him standing just twenty feet away, his weapon trained on the thug.

Snarling a profanity, the thug jerked her close and jammed the muzzle against her temple. “Make a move and I’ll splatter her brains all over you.”

“Drop the weapon and let her go,” Jake said with icy calm.

The thug backed toward the elevator, dragging Leigh with him. “I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands.”

Jake stepped toward him. “You hurt your precious cargo and Rasmussen will make you wish you’d never been born. I’ve seen what he does to people who cross him and it’s not pretty.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Your worst nightmare.”

The thug laughed. Leigh’s heart leapt into a wild staccato. The man had his left arm locked around her waist. His right held the gun against her temple. She could hear the rush of his ragged breath in her ear. She could smell the fear coming off him to mingle with her own.

“Let her go and I’ll let you walk away,” Jake said. “I have no quarrel with you.”

“Walk away from a big payoff?” The thug traced the gun down the side of her face. “I don’t think you want to mess up this pretty face any more than I do.”

“Or maybe this is a losing proposition for both of us,” Jake said, edging closer.

They reached the elevator. The thug loosened his grip on her to press the down button. The gun wavered. Knowing this could be her only chance, that she had only an instant to act, Leigh grasped his gun wrist with both hands. Simultaneously, she brought her boot down on his instep.

The weapon exploded inches from her ear. The thug jerked the gun in Jake’s direction. In her peripheral vision she saw Jake charge, his weapon leveled on the thug.

“No!” she screamed.

Jake took down the thug in a flying tackle. They hit the floor and rolled in a tangle of arms and legs. Hands grappled for guns.

A second gunshot blew a hole in the wall. Jake’s hand circled the thug’s wrist, but the other man’s finger was on the trigger.

Run.

The word echoed inside her head, a primal instinct born of six years of living on the edge. But Leigh didn’t run. Even though she knew Jake was more than capable of taking care of himself, there was no way she could leave him struggling with an armed killer twice his size.

Not giving herself time to debate, she bent and slid the knife from her boot. Gripping the dull side of the blade in a five-finger grip, she waited for a clean shot. She drew back and let the weapon fly in a short range, half spin throw, exactly the way they’d taught her at the knife-throwing classes she’d taken two years ago.

The knife spun as if in slow motion, the blade glinting in a perfect downward arc. An instant later the razor sharp point found its mark at the back of the man’s left calf and went in deep.

The thug’s body went rigid. An animalistic bellow tore from this throat. He turned murderous eyes on her. “You bitch!”

Jake grabbed the man’s wrist, and the gun flew from his grip and skittered away. “That’s no way to speak to a lady.”

But the thug was more focused on the knife sticking out of his calf than he was on fighting. His features were contorted in pain. “I’m bleeding! She stabbed me!”

“You had it coming.” Jake pulled a set of cuffs from his belt and secured the man’s hands behind his back.

Leigh saw blood coming through his trousers, and for the first time it struck her what she’d done. She’d never hurt another human being in her life. Even though she hadn’t had a choice, the realization made her feel a little sick. The room dipped and began to spin.

“Leigh.”

She looked up to see Jake striding toward her, his expression taut. “Easy,” he said. “Don’t look at it.”

She barely heard him over the rapid-fire beat of her heart. She could hear her breaths coming short and fast, her arms and legs trembling violently. Shock, she thought dully and was surprised, because she’d always thought she was tougher than that.

“I’m okay,” she heard herself say.

“You’re going to be real sorry you cut me,” the thug snarled, his face twisted in rage and pain.

When Jake reached her, Leigh couldn’t find her voice. All she could think was that they’d had a very close brush with death.

She jolted when Jake’s hands closed around her arms and squeezed them. “It’s okay,” he said.

“I stabbed him.”

“You saved my life. He didn’t give you a choice.”

Intellectually Leigh knew he was right. But on a more emotional level, nothing had felt right about sinking a knife into a man’s flesh. Even if the man had had it coming.

“Where did you learn to throw a knife like that?”

“I…took a class. A couple of years ago.”

“Must have been one hell of a class.” He was running his hands up and down her arms. Talking to her. Trying to bring her back from the brink of shock.

Both of them jumped when the elevator chimed. Jake spun. As if in slow motion she saw him slide the gun from its sheath. With his other hand, he took hers.

“Run!” he shouted.

The next thing she knew she was being dragged down the hall toward the stairwell. But it was the sight of the two men stepping off the elevator that snapped her back to reality. At first glance she thought they were deputy marshals from the Witness Security Program. Then she noticed their guns and knew the situation was about to take a hard turn for the worse.

The first shot snapped through the air with the violence of a lightning strike. Sheetrock exploded off the wall two feet to her right. A hot whiz ignited the air just inches from her ear.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

The stairwell at the end of the hall seemed a mile away. There was no cover. No place to run. All Leigh could think was that they were sitting ducks.

“I said run, damn it!”

She looked over at Jake and saw fear in his eyes, felt that same fear rampaging through her. She didn’t think they were going to get out of this alive.

Then she caught a glimpse of red coming through his coat. Blood, she thought, and the fear ratcheted into terror. “Jake! Oh my God! You’ve been hit!”

The only response she got was the frenzied pound of her heart.

Chapter Three

“If I go down, you keep running!” Jake shouted. “You got that?”

“Don’t go down,” she panted.

He gave her a look and cursed. Leigh figured he already knew she wasn’t the kind of person who left someone behind. Even if she didn’t necessarily like that someone.

Shifting the gun, Jake took aim and shot out two wall sconces, throwing them into darkness. Cover, Leigh thought, and a sliver of relief went through her. At least they were no longer sitting ducks.

Shouts and heavy footsteps sounded behind them. White flashes exploded as gunfire erupted. Leigh ran at a reckless speed. But Jake urged her to go faster. At some point he’d forced her ahead of him. Belatedly, she realized he was keeping himself squarely between her and the gunmen.

They reached the end of the hall. Jake hit the stairwell door with both hands. The door flew open and banged against the wall. They burst into the stairwell. There was just enough light for Leigh to see the pipe rail and concrete steps. She was halfway down the first flight when she realized Jake wasn’t beside her. She stopped and looked up to see him put his fist through the firefighter emergency box mounted on the wall. Glass exploded. She saw blood on his knuckles.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Taking out a little insurance.” He yanked the coiled hose from its nest. “Go! I’ll catch up.”

She managed a few more steps before stopping. She looked back to see Jake ram the steel nozzle of the firefighter hose through the door handle and secure the other end to the stair rail, effectively locking out the men. He quickly tied off the hose. Banging sounded on the other side of the door, followed by gunshots. “That ought to buy us a couple of seconds,” he muttered dryly and took the steps to her two at a time.

“Let’s hope there’s not a welcoming committee waiting for us outside.”

He met her on the landing. “I told you to keep moving.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

The next thing she knew her hand was in his and she was barreling down the stairs, taking two and three steps at a time, certain she was going to fall at any second.

When they reached the ground level, Jake darted to the stairwell door and shoved it open. Winter rain greeted them with a cold, wet slap.

“My car’s on the other side of the parking lot,” Leigh said.

Heavy footsteps sounded from the stairwell above. Rasmussen’s thugs had broken through.

“We’ll take mine,” Jake said. “Let’s go.”

They sprinted across the parking lot to an SUV the size of a tank. Jake punched the remote. “Climb in and hit the deck.”

Leigh ran to the passenger side door, yanked it open. Jake was already behind the wheel, turning the key, shifting into gear. “Get down.”

She glanced toward the motel in time to see two men burst from the door she and Jake had just exited. She heard shouts. Several muffled pops sounded.

“They’re shooting at us!” she said.

Jake shoved her head down. “Stay the hell down!”

Then the SUV shot forward like a racecar out of pit row. A volley of shots splintered the air. Jake yanked the wheel hard to the left. A bullet blew a hole through the windshield. Glass rained down on Leigh. She peeked up to see tiny white cracks spreading like a network of capillaries across the windshield.

“Hang on!” Jake hit the gas. “This is going to be rough.”

The SUV jumped the curb, bouncing wildly over a hedgerow and flowerbed. He twisted the steering wheel, but he wasn’t fast enough to avoid the Dumpster, which screeched across concrete. Cursing, Jake swung the vehicle around and headed toward the street.

An abrupt and uneasy silence ensued, the only sounds coming from the hum of the engine and the hiss of tires against wet pavement. Nausea churned in her stomach and for an uncomfortable moment she feared she would be sick.

“Are you all right?”

Trembling, Leigh sat up. “I feel like I have to throw up.”

Jake glanced at her, his eyes dark with concern. “I can’t pull over.”

Feeling sweat break out on her forehead, she rolled down the window a few inches and let the cold air rush over her heated skin.

“Take some deep breaths,” he said.

She did, and slowly the nausea receded. In its wake, she was hit by the wrenching knowledge that they’d come very close to being killed. That a monster was out of its cage. That he was a predator and she was his prey, and he wouldn’t stop until he killed her. Then she remembered the blood on Jake’s coat and her focus shifted.

“How bad are you hit?”

“Just a nick.”

A shudder of relief went through her. “How can Rasmussen be so organized and have so much power after six years in prison?”

“He’s had a lot of contact with the outside. Lawyers. Accountants. He’s got money stashed in overseas banks. He’s connected. He’s brutal. There aren’t many people willing to cross him.” Jake grimaced. “You crossed him.”

“So did you.”

His jaw flexed. “Yeah, well, he’s not obsessed with me.”

She looked down and saw that her hands were shaking. She hated being afraid, hated having to look over her shoulder. She’d spent the past six years rebuilding her life. A new name. A new job. A new apartment. Now, just when she’d finally found some semblance of normalcy and a life she was content with, the nightmare was starting all over again.

“Where are we going?”

“For now we’re just putting some distance between us and those sons of bitches with guns.”

Feeling sick again, she put her face in her hands. Hot tears burned behind her lids, but Leigh had grown adept at keeping a handle on her emotions. What she couldn’t control was the fear. She was so tired of feeling like a victim.

After a moment she drew a deep breath and looked at Jake. Her gaze went to the hole in his coat. Right side, just above his hip. It was the size of a quarter. The surrounding material was blood soaked.

“Oh, Jake, you’re bleeding.”

“I can drive.”

“That’s more than just a nick. It looks bad. You need to—”

“We can’t stop, Leigh.”

“Can you call someone at the agency for help? Have them meet us somewhere? Get you some medical attention?”

Jake didn’t answer, but she saw his hands tighten on the wheel, and something else began to niggle at her. It surprised her that even after so many years, she still knew him so well. They’d spent one short week together a lifetime ago. But it had been a week of life-and-death danger, of breathless intensity and a roller-coaster ride of emotions. They’d had a common goal, had been fighting a common monster. And for a precious moment in time, they’d shared the same reckless passions….

Leigh pushed those memories away. “Don’t you have to call in to the agency and let them know what happened?”

Jake glanced at her, the rearview mirror and then back to the road ahead. “No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean I walked away from the agency this morning.”

Leigh didn’t know what to say. For Jake it had always been about the job. About getting his man, no holds barred. He defined himself by his work. Six years ago he’d been willing to sacrifice her to get at Rasmussen. Something she’d never been able to forgive him for.

She knew all too well how much his job with the MIDNIGHT Agency meant to him. She couldn’t help but wonder why he would walk away. She told herself it didn’t matter. Nothing he did now was going to change what had happened six years ago. But then, she’d always been good at lying to herself when it came to Jake.

“I hope your leaving the agency didn’t have anything to do with me,” she said.

“If I hadn’t walked away this morning, you’d be lying stone-cold dead back at that motel.” He shot her a dark look. “Or else on your way to Rasmussen.”

“You don’t know that.”

His laugh told her he did. “You might think you can handle this on your own, Leigh, but I’m telling you, you can’t. I’m asking you not to try.”

“I’m not the same dumb kid I was when I met you, Jake.”

“I never thought you were a dumb kid.”

“You just treated me like one. Until it came time for you to get what you needed, anyway.” Leigh shivered as the memory of that day pressed into her. The MIDNIGHT Agency had wired her for sound. She’d met with Rasmussen at his Michigan Avenue loft. It had been the worst day of her life. But she’d gotten Rasmussen to incriminate himself on tape. Only, she’d had to sell her soul to do it….

Shaking off the memory, she sighed. “Look, I know how to disappear. All I need is a new name. A new city—”

“He’s not going to stop looking for you,” Jake interrupted. “How long do you think you can hide? A week? A month? A year? Sooner or later your number is going to come up.”

“He’s a fugitive. He can’t elude the police indefinitely.”

“If he flees the country, it could be years before we get him. He’s got the resources to stay hidden as long as it takes.”

“As long as it takes for what?” As soon as the words were out she regretted them, because she knew what he was going to say.

“To find you,” he said tightly. “I don’t even want to think about what he’ll do to you. Damn it, you know him, Leigh. He’s obsessed with you. He’s bent on revenge. Motivated by jealousy and hate and ego. You saw the way he looked at you in court the day you testified against him. He’s fixated on you. He knows what happened—” He bit off the words and looked away. “Between us.”

Even with her heart pounding with fear, she felt an unwelcome surge of heat at the mention of what had happened between her and Jake six years ago. Leigh knew it was crazy, but that was the way it had been between them. Even with their lives on the line, they hadn’t been able to resist each other. A single, earth-shattering night in his arms and she’d been lost….

“How could I have been so naive to get involved with a man like Ian Rasmussen?” she whispered.

Jake rolled his shoulder. “You couldn’t have known what kind of man he was. He kept his secrets well hidden. He was Chicago’s favorite bad-boy bachelor. He had a successful North Michigan Avenue restaurant. The local media loved him.”

“I was with him for almost a year.”

“Don’t start the blame game, Leigh. You were young. Inexperienced. He knew that and used those things to manipulate you.”

Even after all this time, it made her feel like a fool. Yes, she’d been young—just twenty-one when she met Ian Rasmussen. But why had it taken so long for her to see him for what he really was?

As if realizing where her thoughts had gone, Jake turned to her. “If it hadn’t been for you, he never would have gone to trial.”

The mention of the trial made her feel queasy. The court proceedings had been a nightmare. Leigh had taken the stand to testify against Rasmussen. Only, Rasmussen’s high-powered lawyer had done his best to put her and the MIDNIGHT Agency on trial instead. That was when it had come out that she and Jake had been intimate. That the MIDNIGHT Agency had formally disciplined Jake for inappropriate conduct with a witness. Rasmussen’s lawyer had tried to use the information to get the case thrown out. The judge however had seen through the ruse. But Rasmussen had gone off the deep end. Not only had Leigh betrayed him by wearing a wire and getting him on tape for the feds, but she’d betrayed him on an even deeper level by sleeping with the very man who’d brought him down.

For a second, when she looked across the seat at Jake, she saw him as the man he’d been six years ago. He’d been her protector, heat and strength and steel control. But Leigh had seen that control fracture. She would never forget the way he’d looked at her the first time he’d kissed her. The way his eyes had gone dark when he’d touched her. She would never forget the way he’d trembled when he’d been inside her. Or the moment when her own control had shattered with a power that had moved her to tears….

Like it or not, those images were forever branded on her heart.

“He’s never going to stop looking for me, is he?” she asked after a moment.

Jake’s dark expression said it all. “No,” he murmured.