Burke placed his arm around her waist

Leaning over her seductively, he whispered in Laura’s ear. “Elena has told everyone that I’m your boyfriend, so I think we should make it look convincing. If it helps you to get the right look in your eyes, you could try picturing me naked.”

A vivid image of Burke that day she’d caught him just out of the shower suddenly popped into her mind—but her imagination kicked in and she saw him dropping the towel he’d wrapped around him. Her mouth went dry and her heart began to pound.

Burke gave her an utterly charming smile. “Ah, I see it worked. Your cheeks are flushed.”

“They are not,” she protested quickly, then, looking around, saw they were being watched by a couple dancing past. Laura forced herself to smile.

“That’s better. Keep smiling and let’s dance. That’ll help,” Burke said.

“No, it won’t. I’m an awful dancer. I’ll step on you.”

Burke grabbed her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. “I’ll risk it.”

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

The suspenseful tales we offer you this month are much scarier than Halloween’s ghouls and ghosts! So bring out your trick-or-treating bag and gather up all four exciting stories.

And do we have a treat for you—a brand-new 3-in-1 compilation featuring authors Rebecca York, Ann Voss Peterson and Patricia Rosemoor. Ten years ago, three men were cursed by a Gypsy woman bent on vengeance. Now they must race to find a killer—and true love’s kiss may just break the evil spell they’re under in Gypsy Magic.

Next, Aimée Thurlo concludes her two-book miniseries SIGN OF THE GRAY WOLF, with Navajo Justice. And Susan Kearney starts a new trilogy, THE CROWN AFFAIR, in which royalty of the country of Vashmira must battle palace danger and treachery, while finding true love along the way. Look for Royal Target this month.

When Jennifer Ballard dreamed of her wedding day, it never included murder! But no one would harm the beautiful bride, not if Colby Agency investigator Ethan Delaney had anything to say about it. Pick up Contract Bride for yet another nail-biter from Debra Webb.

Happy reading!

Denise O’Sullivan

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

Navajo Justice
Aimée Thurlo

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Aimée Thurlo is a nationally known bestselling author. She’s written forty-one novels and is published in at least twenty countries worldwide. She has been nominated for the Reviewer’s Choice Award and the Career Achievement Award by Romantic Times magazine.

She also cowrites the Ella Clah mainstream mystery series, which debuted with a starred review in Publishers Weekly and has been optioned by CBS.

Aimée was born in Havana, Cuba, and lives with her husband of thirty years in Corrales, New Mexico. Her husband, David, was raised on the Navajo Indian Reservation.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Handler—Just who was the faceless owner of Gray Wolf Investigations and why did he have so many friends in high places?

Burke Silentman—He had a debt to pay, and in that price lay his redemption.

Laura Santos—The men she wrote about were only fantasies until Burke Silentman rode up on his motorcycle.

Doug Begay—Though he was far away, his actions could exact the highest price on them all.

Karl Maurer—The Center was his life, but how much would he risk to keep it?

Nicole Maurer—Her husband knew the kind of company she was keeping—or did he?

Michael Enesco—He was an outsider and that made him the object of suspicion. But was some of it deserved?

To Pat and Jack Kelly—

the best neighbors anyone could ever want.

Contents

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

Epilogue

Chapter One

It was a beautiful morning in late March. The sky was a clear, almost brilliant blue, the air clean and crisp—the kind of day where the breeze whispered of dreams that were still in the making, and songbirds celebrated the coming of spring.

Laura Santos drove home from the post office slowly, taking back streets off the main highway that, although graveled and bumpy, gave a great glimpse into the true character of the small New Mexico town. One-story houses stood like sentinels between fields of sandy soil dotted with tall clumps of blue-green sage and eager green-and-yellow native grasses. Horses wandered lazily, seeking the fresh green fare. Their slowly shedding, thick winter coats were now the only reminder of the long, cold months behind them.

Today, she could afford to take her time and enjoy the day. She’d finally finished her latest novel, Dawn of Desire. It was the story of a wounded ex-soldier who’d come home to find the love he’d left behind. Laura sighed. It had been a beautiful love story with a delicious hero. Best of all, the book had flowed easily, as did most tales told from the heart.

Restless now, she wondered how to celebrate the completion of the book. There was no special man in her life. The relationships she’d had in the past hadn’t worked out for one reason or another, and she wasn’t the kind of woman who’d settle for a man who was “good enough.”

Of course, her life was simpler this way. Her work was very time consuming, and she also had her madrina, her godmother, to take care of, so her days were full. Although she dated occasionally, and had all the usual healthy urges, no one had ever really come close to touching her heart.

As she entered the more densely populated neighborhood where she lived, the pavement began and the dust level dropped noticeably. Turning onto the street that led to her home, Laura looked down the block and caught a glimpse of her new neighbor, Burke, sitting astride his motorcycle, adjusting something on the engine. The tall, black-haired Navajo man had the palest brown eyes she’d ever seen and a smile that, although rare, could undoubtedly coax a pulse out of a stone.

As she slowed to make the turn into her driveway, her gaze strayed over him. Looking up just then, Burke waved. She smiled back at him, feeling her heart start to beat a little faster.

Aware suddenly that she hadn’t been watching where she was going, she focused back on the turn, hoping she wasn’t about to hit the mailbox—again. She’d been checking him out last week, daydreaming, when she’d brushed against it with the front bumper. The pole that supported the box had broken off at the ground, and the custom-designed mailbox, shaped like a house, had ended up looking like something used in a television commercial to advertise tornado insurance. At least Burke had been stepping inside as she’d knocked it down, so she hadn’t had to make a lame excuse.

The man had moved in about a week ago, and had already doubled the machismo level on their street, as every woman on their block would have happily attested. There was something powerfully and wonderfully masculine about him. Laura had no doubt that it was partly due to the arrogant confidence with which he did virtually everything. His long-legged stride, so filled with purpose and a hint of aggression, gave something as mundane as “walking” an entirely new meaning.

She sighed and lowered her head, resting it on the steering wheel. Reality-check time. The romantic in her was taking her very good-looking neighbor and rewriting him into a fantasy hero. Burke was probably a businessman or some form of engineer, like many of the men in her new, upper-middle-class neighborhood. His masculine walk was probably due to a sore spot left after taking a corner too fast on his motorcycle down one of the graveled back roads.

She’d have to make a point to talk to Burke and find out more about him next time he came up to the cedar fence that bordered their properties. So far only her madrina, Elena, had actually spoken to him. With luck, Laura’s fantasies would come to a screeching halt once she met him and found out he was a salesman with a high-pitched voice and the tendency to try and sell life insurance policies to everyone he met.

Laura switched off the ignition, grabbed her purse and climbed out of her sporty but sensible Chevrolet sedan. Flipping through her Scooby-Doo key chain on the way up the sidewalk, she found the right key and unlocked the front door.

The second she stepped across the threshold, an invisible cloud of foul-smelling gas slammed into her like a massive wave. She staggered back, coughing and fighting to catch her breath.

She turned her head away from the house, trying to catch her breath so she could go back inside. All the oxygen inside the house had been replaced by natural gas, making her light-headed.

“Elena!” she called out frantically, but there was no response.

“Elena, where are you?” Laura yelled again, fighting the feeling of nausea from the noxious gas. She stepped back from the door, looking around for Burke, hoping she could ask him to call 911, but she couldn’t see him now. Knowing there was no time to lose, she took two deep breaths of fresh air, then rushed into the house.

For a moment, her blood turned to ice and she couldn’t move. The interior of her home was in shambles. Everything that had been on the bookshelves was now on the floor, swept into random piles. Cushions from the sofa and chairs had been slashed, then torn open and gutted. Stuffing lay scattered around the room like the aftermath of a bizarre snowstorm.

She tried to focus her thoughts quickly, feeling dizzy from lack of oxygen. Her godmother was here someplace and she had to locate her and get her outside, fast.

Laura’s lungs felt as if they’d burst any second. Knowing that she had to take a breath, she rushed to the living room windows and threw open the first one she reached. She took a deep lungful of air, then plunged back into the nightmare her home had become.

Laura quickly searched the bedrooms and the kitchen, resisting the urge to turn on the lights and risk a spark-initiated explosion. But Doña Elena wasn’t there. Halfway back to the living room Laura was forced to take a breath. She tried to make it a shallow one, but the smell was overpowering. She ran into the bathroom, slid back the small window and breathed deeply, then dove back into the poisoned atmosphere.

The hall seemed endless as she ran along it, heading directly for the next closest window. But when she tried to lift the sash, it was stuck tight. Out of air now, she was forced to take a short breath, but that proved to be a mistake.

Suddenly very dizzy, she leaned against the wall. Elena was in here somewhere and Laura had to find her, but her eyes had lost the ability to focus. Vaguely, she remembered the garage and turned to head in that direction. As if someone were playing with a dimmer switch, the room grew darker and she slipped slowly to the floor.

Laura fought to stay conscious, but oddly shaped patterns exploded before her eyes. Asphyxiation—she didn’t want to die this way. Yet even as the thought formed, it slipped away and darkness greeted her.

Laura wasn’t sure when her thoughts began again, but she awoke to the feeling of being carried. A man’s arms, strong and warm, were wrapped around her, pressing her securely against a rock-hard chest. His strength was comforting, but also deeply stirring on a primitive level.

Still groggy, she wondered if this was what happened to romance authors when they died—perhaps God had created a special heaven for them. She didn’t struggle. If she’d gone to romance writers heaven, she would enjoy every single moment of it.

As a strong light hit her eyes, she buried her face against his chest. The Light. It was harsh. She’d expected more—or maybe less. And where was that tunnel she’d heard about, and those departed loved ones stepping up to offer encouragement?

Slowly, she realized that she was able to breathe now. Did the dead breathe?

“You’re going to be okay,” a deep, sure voice said.

She turned her head to look at her rescuer, but his face was lost in an iridescent haze. A soft glimmer in his eyes seemed to pierce it somewhat, and she found herself captivated by the light brown eyes that held hers. “Am I dead?”

“No, not hardly, though you’ll probably have a killer headache later on.”

The haze that clouded her vision began to give way and, like a slowly developing photograph, his face grew clearer. She knew this man. It was her next-door neighbor, Burke, and his eyes were shining with a vibrant inner fire. She allowed herself to bask in the warmth of his gaze, and in the knowledge that she was alive and safe.

Then suddenly another thought made a bolt of panic shoot through her. “Elena!”

“She’s not at home. Relax,” he said, his voice utterly compelling and reassuring.

Burke laid her down gently on the grass of her front lawn. “I heard you calling for her and coughing, then saw you rush inside the house with your hand over your mouth. I tried to stop you but I couldn’t reach you in time.”

Relief flooded through her, erasing her fear. “I thought—” Her voice broke and she buried her face against his shoulder again.

Burke held her tightly. “What you did was very brave, but completely unnecessary. Doña Elena—Mrs. Baca—left over a half hour ago in the senior center’s van.”

It felt wonderful to be held by him. He was all hard muscle and lean strength. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Let me show you.” He leaned down and captured her mouth in a tender kiss.

He tasted of cinnamon and strong, dark coffee. Seconds stretched out as a sweet, slow fire coursed through her veins.

But it was over too soon, and he drew back.

“Now we’re more than even. In fact—I may owe you, lovely lady.”

Chapter Two

Laura took a long ragged breath. The taste of Burke still lingered in her mouth, teasing her. What she’d found in his arms was pure fire. He remained close to her now and she breathed in his incredibly masculine scent. It was a blend of the rugged outdoors and pure danger.

She sat up slowly, trying to get her bearings. She’d spent years writing about the devastating magic of a man and a woman’s first kiss—but she’d never thought this would happen to her. Now, out of all the places in the world where she might have found that sweet fire, it had happened here on her own front lawn.

Laura shook her head. She was still daffy from the gas. She was confusing life with the Wizard of Oz.

“You’re darned tootin’ you owe me,” she answered him at last. “And just to make it even, the day I collect, I’ll take you by surprise.”

His eyes grew dark and sparkled with the excitement of a challenge. “Anytime.” His voice was like steel and velvet. “I’m a man of honor—most of the time.”

She laughed. “I’ll remember that.” And everything else that had just happened, for as long as she lived.

Burke stood and, holding her firmly by the waist, brought her to her feet.

She gripped his shoulders, enjoying the hardness of his body. For a second their eyes met and she experienced something else that had never happened to her before—she was at a loss for words.

She was suffering from oxygen deprivation. That was the only answer that made sense. “I need to call the gas company and have them fix that leak. I should also call the police.” Hearing sirens, she looked down the street and added, “Or did you do that already?”

“I called 911 before I went after you.” As the paramedics drove up, he waved them over.

It took fifteen minutes for Laura to be checked out and for her to convince the paramedics that she was okay. Fortunately, her vital signs were normal, and the medics didn’t believe she was in any more danger. Laura agreed to see a doctor if any symptoms reappeared.

During that time the gas supply leading to the heater was turned off inside her home. After signing a release form the paramedics presented, she went to meet the gas company serviceman as he came out her door.

“I’ve opened every window I could find in there, ma’am, but you should still be careful inside. The connector leading to your furnace is damaged and will have to be replaced, and the furnace itself will need some work. You’ll still smell the chemical added to the natural gas so you can detect a leak, but that will fade pretty soon. The rest…” He shrugged. “What happened in there?”

“Someone must have broken in and trashed the place. That’s all I’ve figured out so far.” As the man walked back to his truck, Laura looked up and down the block, trying to figure out if the police were coming or not. Giving up on them, she started to go back into the house.

Just then Burke came up to her. “Can I help?” he asked.

“I’m going to take a look inside, now that it’s safe. If I remember right, my house was in a shambles. I must have had a burglar.”

“Let me go with you. And by the way, as a precaution, don’t turn on any of the lights just yet. The gas should have dissipated enough, but there’s no sense in testing it with a spark.”

As Laura walked into the living room she grasped the full extent of the damage clearly for the first time. All the things she’d loved, that had defined her home and herself, had been tossed onto the floor like trash. She saw her collection of music boxes there, chipped and cracked, some smashed beyond recognition. The small knickknacks that held little value but gave her so much pleasure, like the wind-up toy drummer bear and her collection of mice, had been stepped on, probably not even on purpose. There was so much clutter on the floor it was nearly impossible to pick a path.

“Why would anyone do this to me?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Take it one step at a time. See if there’s anything missing.” In a gesture of support, Burke placed his hand on her shoulder.

The warmth of his touch melted the coldness that enveloped her. Yet even as it comforted, it stirred other unsettling emotions.

She moved away and picked up a brightly decorated clay pot that had somehow survived undamaged. The miniature rose that had been inside it lay next to it. Laura placed the plant back into the pot along with all the soil she could scoop up.

The small act of restoration made her feel better.

“Look, but don’t touch anything else yet,” Burke said, gazing around the room. “The police will want to work the scene and check for evidence. They’ll search for fingerprints.”

As she saw the debris in the hall, Laura felt a new wave of panic slam into her. Her office. She had to check her computer. The book was finished, but she had other important files on her hard drive—the beginning of a future book, for one.

She rushed down the hall, but although the room was in shambles, her computer appeared untouched. She counted that as a major blessing, and tried to ignore the way her chest tightened as she looked at the chaos surrounding her. Files lay all over the floor, papers everywhere. Reference books had been tossed around, and some of the older ones had lost pages and had their spines broken. Taking a deep, unsteady breath, she stepped back out into the hall.

As she went into the bedrooms, she saw they had not fared well, either. Everything had been rifled through. In her room, the contents of every drawer had been dumped onto the floor. Her small jewelry box had been upended, but as she sorted through the jumble of pieces, she saw that nothing was missing, not even her most expensive watch, earrings or matching pendant.

Laura went through the rest of the house numbly. She checked for the obvious things burglars usually took, like the TV set and VCR, but both were there, intact, and none of the simple tools in the garage had even been touched.

“I just don’t understand this,” she muttered. “What on earth were they after?”

Hearing a loud knock, she returned to the living room. A police officer in a blue uniform had come in the open door and was looking around. She introduced herself and took him from room to room.

“Any idea who did this?” he asked her. Seeing her shake her head, he added, “Smells like you had a gas leak, too.”

She gave him a quick rundown of what had happened, including what the gas company serviceman had said.

“I’m going to check for the point of entry and dust that area for fingerprints, but I’ve got to tell you, we generally don’t have a lot of luck finding the perps in these cases. Our best chance is if we catch them in the act somewhere else, or fencing the stolen property. Of course, we’ll ask your neighbors if they saw or heard anyone or noticed an unfamiliar vehicle. We’ll cover all the usual bases, but after that…”

Laura felt her stomach plummet. In her books the cops always had sufficient resources and the determination to solve every crime. But this was real life, and too often victims were just that—victims. The label made her angry. Someone had broken into her home and turned her life into chaos, and she was supposed to just shrug it off?

Burke came to stand beside her. It was a small gesture, but one she appreciated. He had a commanding presence about him that she found oddly reassuring.

“What you can do is figure out how to get your life back to normal—fast,” Burke advised. “For starters, you’ll need to have dead bolts installed and a good, solid back door. I think the burglar was able to kick it in because it wasn’t constructed to stand up to punishment. Learn from this and you can keep it from ever happening again.”

“And who knows?” the officer agreed. “We may get lucky and catch the perp and recover whatever he stole from you.”

“For now, let’s finish going through the house and see what that could be,” Burke said. “You’ll need to make a list.”

It was like walking through a nightmare. Laura went down the hall with the men and, as they passed the closet containing the gas furnace, Burke stopped and crouched down beside it. The metal panel had been ripped off the heater.

“From the marks I see, it looks like they were trying to search the space between the furnace and wall,” Burke said. “Of course, in doing that, the intruder moved the furnace enough to extinguish the pilot light and break the gas connection. It looks like he damaged the furnace as well.”

As they entered Elena’s room, Laura saw a tiny silver pendant Elena cherished on the floor, along with other items from the top of her dresser. She picked the pendant up, grateful that it hadn’t been stepped on. It had been the last gift Elena had received from her husband before he died. Laura placed it inside her jacket pocket in an attempt to protect this one special thing.

As her thoughts turned to her godmother, Laura began to worry. Elena was in her late sixties and had a weak heart. The last thing she needed was to come home to a disaster like this, and then be forced to spend the night in an unheated house. Lately, the nighttime temperatures had been in the low forties here in the desert. They’d have to find a motel.

“I’ve got to start cleaning up and making arrangements for a place to spend the night,” Laura said.

“I’m going to need a list and description of what’s missing first,” the officer said.

“I haven’t found anything missing yet,” she answered.

With obvious reluctance, Laura headed back to her office. It was here, where she created her stories, that the chaos the intruder had left behind bit into her heart the most. In this room, alone with the ghosts who peopled a writer’s imagination, she’d found peace. But now all there was in here was confusion. The sense that the dearest part of herself had been violated almost brought her to tears.

It would take days to get everything back in order. Thank goodness she’d just ended a project rather than being in the middle of one.

“Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? They must have looked through every page in here,” Laura murmured, her spirits sagging.

“It appears that they were searching for something in particular, perhaps a letter or document,” Burke said. “Can you think of what that might have been?”

Hearing a familiar but frightened voice calling out from the front of the house, Laura spun around. “Oh, no! Elena’s back early.”

Laura rushed to intercept her godmother. She’d hoped to find a way to soften the blow before Elena returned. As Laura reached the front door, she saw her frozen there, terror and shock on her face.

“It’s all right,” Laura said gently. “No one’s been hurt. We can always replace things.”

Elena was a petite, well-rounded woman with an affable manner and an easy smile that made friends almost anywhere. Now she looked as if she’d just witnessed the death of a loved one.

“Someone broke into the house. In the process, they created this mess and even managed to break off the valve on the furnace,” Laura said calmly. “But the gas is turned off now, so it’s just a matter of cleaning up and repairing or replacing the furnace. And believe it or not, I haven’t discovered anything missing.”

“That’s a blessing. But without heat, how will we stay warm tonight?” Elena asked. “And just look at what they did to our beautiful home!”

“We’ll be fine. We can stay at a motel until everything is back to normal again. It’ll work out.”

“We’ll need someplace close, Laura. We’ll have to be here daily. We can’t just leave everything in the hands of repairmen,” she countered.

“The motels along the main highway aren’t too far away. We’ll make do.”

“I have an idea, ladies,” Burke interjected. “You know I bought the large three-bedroom next door, and it’s much too big for just me and my dog. Why don’t you both come stay with me until your house is repaired?”

Laura felt a prickle of excitement as she heard his offer. But, of course, it was out of the question. Sharing the home of a drop-dead-gorgeous guy was not her idea of a safe haven. Before she could say anything, however, Elena spoke.

“Such a nice offer! We accept,” she said, looking up at him with a smile. “Okay, Laura?”

Laura nearly choked. “Wait a sec.”

Seeing the police officer coming toward them, Burke turned to him. “Why don’t I go speak with the officer while you two talk things over?”

As soon as he’d moved out of earshot, Laura glowered at Elena, but the older woman beamed a wide smile.

“God always makes something good come out of even the worst of times,” she said. “That young man is single and very attractive. And with me there, he will behave. In the meantime, you two can get to know each other. Before long, you might find out that he’s perfect for you.”

“How can you say that? We don’t know a thing about him! I haven’t even figured out if Burke is his first or last name!”

“That’s one of the things you can ask him,” Elena replied, undaunted. “And we do know quite a bit about him. We know that he always dresses like a gentleman and that he pays attention to details. He heard Mr. Romero call me Doña Elena once, and ever since then he’s addressed me the same way. On a practical side, his offer means we can be close by to let repairmen in and out. I think we should take advantage of his hospitality.”

Seeing that Laura was still hesitant, she played her trump card. “And my heart…well, this has all been quite a shock. I’d like to stay close to home, because here is where I feel the most comfortable.”

Laura’s eyes narrowed. “Do you realize that you never mention your heart unless you want me to do something?” Seeing the crestfallen look on her godmother’s face, she laughed. “All right. You win. We’ll accept his offer.”

“Laura!” A male voice suddenly boomed out from near the front door.

Laura looked up and expelled her breath in a whoosh. “Not him again,” she said softly. “Ken Springer is the last person I want to see here now.”

The police officer who was packing away his fingerprint kit looked up and, seeing Laura’s expression, went to head off the new arrival.

As he approached, Ken flipped open his badge. “County arson investigator, Officer.”

“There’s no arson here, Ken,” Laura said, impatience tainting her tone. The tall, lanky lieutenant from the fire department wasn’t bad looking, but his cocky, self-absorbed attitude put Laura off. They had a brief history, one she never wanted to repeat.

“I just heard the report. Do you have any idea what that gas leak might have done to you if you’d flipped on the light? This is attempted arson as far as I’m concerned.”

“No. The gas leak was an accident. The break-in…” She shrugged.

Seeing Burke, Ken placed his arm over Laura’s shoulder.

Biting back her annoyance, Laura shrugged it off. “I’m very tired, Lieutenant Springer. If you have business here, then get on with it. Otherwise, please leave.”

Burke’s gaze locked with Ken’s. The fireman reached into his back pocket and once again flashed his ID. “And your business here is…?”

“Mine,” Laura said firmly.

Anger sharpened Ken’s features as he glanced at Laura. “You don’t need help from a civilian, Laura. I’ll handle this.”

“I want him here,” she said firmly. “Remember that you’re in my home.”

Ken held her gaze, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “I’m going to take a look around.”

As he strode off, Burke glanced at her. “Old boyfriend?”

“I went out with him twice—and that was two times too many.”

“But he’s never given up trying to make himself part of her life.” Elena shook her head sadly.

Burke nodded, but before he could comment, the police officer came up to Laura. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m leaving now. We’ll be increasing our patrols in this area, but stay alert and call us if you have any problems.” He reached into his pocket and handed her a card.

After the man left, Laura saw that Ken was still walking around the house, looking through her things. Annoyed, she strode up to him. “It’s not arson, Ken. Not even a match was lit in here. Perhaps you should go work on one of your cases.”

“How do you explain what’s happened?” he countered harshly.

Elena came up and joined them. “I didn’t mention this to the officer because it’s just speculation, but the break-in is more than likely the work of my brother-in-law,” she stated. “He’s been hoping to get his hands on the deed to a piece of property my husband left me, or the original will. He filed a lawsuit, but no hearing has been scheduled yet.”

Laura looked at Elena with dawning understanding. “You’re right. This would be something he’d do.”

“You shouldn’t have to put up with this from anyone,” Ken said. “Tell me where I can find him and I’ll go over and take care of this for you.”

“No, Ken, you won’t,” Laura said firmly. “I’ll handle this myself. I appreciate you coming by, but as you can see, this has nothing to do with the type of case you handle for the county.”

Ken looked at Burke, his expression venomous. “Then it looks like it’s time for us to go.”

“Burke, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to stay for a while. You can help us get things organized here,” Laura said, more to make a point than anything else.

“If you want—” Ken said.

“Ken, go,” she interrupted. “You’re working now. He’s not.”

“Unemployed?” Ken sneered.

The cold, level look that passed between the men made a shiver course up Laura’s spine.

“Call if you need me. This is my new cell number,” Ken said, handing Laura his card.

She took it, then set it down on a coffee table. “Goodbye, Ken.”

The tall fireman left wordlessly.

Laura exhaled softly as soon as Ken had gone. “Ken Springer is harmless, but he’s such a pain. I’ve tried to tell him I’m just not interested, but he keeps finding a reason to come around.”

“Nothing but a solid hit with a two-by-four deters a man of that kind,” Elena said.

Burke laughed. “Listen to your godmother,” he said, looking at Laura. “I think she’s right on target.”

His generous lips curved sensually when he smiled, and Laura felt a sudden jolt of awareness—the earthy kind that reminded her that he was all-male, and she a woman who enjoyed her femininity. She took a breath, trying to tone down her reaction to him for the sake of her own peace of mind.

A man as confident as Burke surely knew the effect he had on women. He’d undoubtedly grown to accept it as natural—something that was as much a part of him as his broad shoulders and six-foot frame. The last thing she intended to do was feed his ego by letting him sense her reaction to him.

“Why don’t you both go through the house one last time and make a list of all the repairs that’ll have to be done? We’ll need it when we file the insurance claim,” Elena said.

“Good idea,” Laura answered.

“You should look at the back door,” Burke said to Laura. “That’s one of the first things you’ll need to get fixed.”

Laura went into the kitchen and studied the damage. The door frame had been splintered and the lock damaged by a vicious kick. A partial boot print was still on the door. This had clearly been the point of entry. “I never thought of that door as flimsy, but I’ll make sure I get a solid-core one now.”

They methodically checked out each room in the house, Laura adding to the list of things to do. As they worked, she was acutely aware of everything about the man beside her. She stole fleeting, furtive glances at him, taking in his square-cut jaw and his absolutely delicious mouth.

A guy like this is used to leaving a trail of brokenhearted women behind him. Be careful. Don’t add to the number.

The sun had sunk well below the horizon by the time they rejoined Elena in the living room. They’d been able to close the doors and windows and turn on the lights, but the house had grown decidedly chilly.

“It’s going to take awhile to get things back to normal,” Laura said with a sigh.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Elena chided. “Once we clear up the mess, everything will look one hundred percent better. We’ll have a claims adjuster come over tomorrow, then the repairmen can come to fix the heater, replace the door and put in better locks. The damaged furniture can go out to be repaired, or we can go shopping for some new pieces. Before you know it, we’ll be back at home and it’ll be like nothing happened.” Elena stood, wavered, then sat down heavily.

Seeing it, Laura felt her stomach fall. “Are you all right?” She should have expected this. The whole thing had been a total shock for Elena.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing. I just took my pills a little late today and I’m a little woozy.”

“Let’s just sit here for a bit then,” Laura said, watching her for signs of a serious problem with her heart.

Burke sat on an easy chair that had been slashed but not completely depleted of stuffing. He leaned back, projecting an ease that helped Elena relax. For several minutes he made small talk, discussing the neighborhood and the upcoming growing season. Elena bragged about Laura’s rose garden, promising to show him around in full daylight to point out the buds and new season’s growth.

Burke seemed interested in everything about them, though Laura couldn’t tell if it was genuine or if he was simply being charming and polite.

Finally, after the tension washed out of Elena and she had relaxed again, Burke turned the conversation back to business.

“Tell me about this brother-in-law of yours, Doña Elena,” he said, his voice calm but authoritative.

“He’s a difficult man,” she answered. “If he thought I kept that land deed here, or the will, that would explain all this,” she said, waving a hand around the room. “My brother-in-law has claimed that the tract of land I inherited should have gone to him because, originally, he was half owner. But he sold his share to my husband several years ago when he needed cash. My attorney, Ernest Martinez, says that Al has no further claim on the land. But Al has accused me of tampering with Diego’s will, saying that his brother had left the property to him.”

“After we received word that he’d filed a lawsuit, Elena started getting nasty calls at all hours of the night,” Laura added. “We finally got caller ID and started disconnecting the phone when we went to bed.”

Laura watched her godmother as she filled Burke in on a few more details. Burke had worked his magic on her and she was answering all his questions without becoming upset or excited.

Laura suppressed a sigh. There was no denying that Burke was attractive and charming. But something was warning her to be cautious, and she always trusted her intuition. Theirs was not a neighborhood that had known many break-ins, but he’d only been around a week, and now this. It was possible that he was totally innocent, but it was all working out too perfectly. He’d been there to help her; now he was offering two strangers his home. If this was all completely coincidental, she’d eat her shoe.

She had to start thinking in nonfiction terms, concentrating on facts only. If she didn’t do that, she had a feeling she’d end up with some major-league trouble—trouble that would no doubt answer to the name of Burke.

Chapter Three

Laura watched him carefully, trying to freeze out her hormones with a dose of logic, but it wasn’t quite working. It was hard to even think when he trained his pale brown eyes on her. Contrasting sharply with his dark copper skin, they were nothing short of mesmerizing.

Irritated with herself, Laura brought her thoughts back to what her madrina was saying. “My brother-in-law, Al, has always been a problem for my husband’s family. He never amounted to anything, because he’s lazy and always searching for the easy way out. Diego wouldn’t even allow him into our home for a long time because Al had started drinking heavily. After Diego passed away Al thought he’d get a windfall. Reality hit him hard. The man has never learned that the only thing that pays off with any certainty in this world is hard work and dedication.”

As a cold draft came in from the kitchen, where the damaged back door couldn’t be properly closed, Elena shivered and wrapped her shawl tighter around herself.

Noticing the gesture, Laura went to the closet and got her godmother’s winter coat. “We have to get going,” she told Burke. “Now that the sun has set, it’s going to get cold in here pretty fast.

“Madrina,” she continued, looking at Elena, “I wondered if you would enjoy a bed-and-breakfast. We really shouldn’t impose on our new neighbor.”

“It’s no imposition,” Burke assured them quickly. “It’ll be a pleasure.” Taking off his leather jacket, he placed it around Laura’s shoulders. “Let’s go to my house so Doña Elena can get settled in, then we can come back and get some of the things you’ll both need.”

Feeling the warmth of his jacket around her was like being embraced by this man, whose scent spoke of the wildness and freedom of the night. But it was all too distracting.

“You don’t have to give me your jacket,” she said, trying to pass it back to him. “You’ll freeze.” She felt like an idiot for not having taken out her own coat when she went to the closet for Elena’s.

“I’m fine. I’m bigger and tougher,” Burke answered playfully, placing it back over her shoulders.

He led the way to his home, a modern structure constructed in a classic Southwestern style known as Territorial. When he stepped around them to open the heavy wooden door, Laura noticed that he hadn’t bothered to lock it.

“Don’t you lock your doors?” she asked, aghast. “I know we don’t have many incidents—”

She stopped suddenly when a huge, shaggy beast came shooting across the brick foyer, plopping down at Burke’s feet when he called, “Sit!” The black-and-silver animal looked a lot like a cross between a giant German shepherd and a wolf.

“Holy saints!” Elena whispered. “I thought you said you had a dog.”

“That’s not a dog. That’s a bear,” Laura managed to gasp. “No wonder you’re not concerned about leaving your house unlocked.”

“He’s really friendly.” Burke took her hand in his own and held it out in front of the beast. Laura stopped breathing.

“Friend, Wolf.”

Wolf sniffed her hand. “See? Now he knows you,” Burke said.

The warmth of Burke’s hand intertwined with hers made a tingle spread all through her body. As his gaze fastened on hers, she saw that his eyes had darkened slightly, awareness and desire touching their depths. Everything feminine in her came suddenly and vibrantly alive.

Laura pulled her hand away and tore her eyes from his. Even casual contact between them held danger. Needing to distract herself, she crouched down and petted the dog.

“Shake hands with the lady,” Burke said.

Wolf held out his paw, then yawned as if the whole business was beneath him.

Laura laughed and took his paw. “Pleasure to meet you, Wolf.”

Elena crouched down and scratched him behind the ears until Wolf’s eyes closed and he made a contented sound.

“What a wonderful companion you have,” Elena said.

“My godmother adores dogs,” Laura said. “Her mastiff, Bruno, died last year right before she moved in with me. She’s been wanting to get another one, but she hasn’t convinced me yet.”

Once he knew they were at ease around Wolf, Burke showed them to a room down the hall. It was simply furnished, with a four-poster bed and a chest of drawers, yet the furniture, constructed of dark woods, suggested a discerning taste.

Exquisitely crafted antique Navajo rugs, woven in earth tones, adorned the walls. “Those are beautiful,” Elena said. “The one on the left in particular.”

He nodded, pleased she’d complimented it. “It’s what my people call a Yei rug. The tall slender figures are the Holy People and, in this case, they’re shown carrying yucca strips. That rug is made up of elements our medicine men depict in sandpaintings used for healing. We believe that the Holy People are said to restore health when properly appealed to.”

“So it’s a religious artifact?”

“No, it’s not, but a sandpainting made to look like that, and done according to our ways, would be a religious object. This is just a wool rug, deliberately woven with a flaw—a thin line made from the center to the edge. That’s done as a tribute to Spider Woman, who taught our people the art of weaving.”

Elena studied everything in the room, from the beautiful handcrafted quilt on the bed to the small woven basket, made from grass coils and dyed yucca, that rested on the nightstand. “This is such a lovely room.”

“I thought you’d feel that way, so this one is for you,” Burke said. Then he glanced at Laura. “I think you’ll prefer the room across the hall.”

Laura followed him and saw another Southwest style room, in harmony with the rest of the house. This one had high ceilings composed of hand finished, stained logs, or vigas, and more modern milled lumber. The large bed in the middle had a hand carved headboard that was really an elaborate bookcase. She looked up at Burke quickly, wondering if he’d guessed what she did for a living.

“I met your godmother at the fence several times and she mentioned you loved books,” he said. “I thought you might appreciate this room, since there’s a light on the headboard for easy reading at night.” He demonstrated how to work the small, adjustable brass lamp.

“I do love books, that’s true,” she admitted, not quite willing to say anything more about her work at the moment. “I’m really amazed at what you’ve done here in such a short time. I expected to find a lot of unpacked boxes.”

“I hired people to help me move in and put things away so I wouldn’t miss any work. I don’t have a lot of possessions, and it didn’t take long.” Burke glanced at his watch. “And now, I’m going to have to get moving. I’m late for work.”

“What kind of work do you do?” Thinking about the way he’d seemed to know what to do in the aftermath of the break-in, she added, “Are you a cop?” If so, that would put a new slant on things.…”

“Something like that,” he answered, then whistled for Wolf. “You stay here with the ladies.” The dog sat, panting, but it looked for all the world as if he were grinning. “And try not to look so happy about it. You’re a guard dog, remember?”

“Is he trained for that kind of work?” Laura asked, suddenly apprehensive.

“Yes,” Burke said, then with a twinkle in his eye, quickly added, “He’s a danger to any crook who’d trip over him.”

Wolf made a low grumbling sound in protest.

“Sorry, Wolf. I should have told the ladies you were absolutely ferocious.”

The dog barked once and Laura laughed. “It’s as if he understands you.”

“With this dog, I truly never know,” Burke answered honestly. “The keys to my castle, madam.” He took her hand and placed the keys in her palm, but he didn’t let go right away.

Laura held her breath. The warmth of his touch seemed to travel through her, slipping around barriers she’d learned to put up between herself and the world.

“I’ll be back before you know it. You’re safe here,” he said, then released her.

As the words still resonated through her, Burke opened the front door.

“Your jacket,” she said quickly, and started to slip it off.

“Keep it on until you warm up. I have a good windbreaker in one of the saddlebags of my bike,” he said, then disappeared out the door.

A moment later, Laura heard him gunning the engine of his motorcycle. She went to the window to catch a final glimpse of him, and at that moment he glanced up, saw her and waved.

Cursing herself for letting him see that she’d been looking at him, she moved back into the center of the room.

“You see? He’s as charming as I told you he’d be,” Elena said softly.

“We still don’t know a thing about him, Elena. We have to be careful.”

“I’m very seldom wrong about people, hijita, you know that.”

Laura shook her head. “Yes, I do, but there’s something about him that makes me uneasy.”

“That’s only because he reminds you of things you’re missing from your life. Back in the days when you believed in love and were open to the possibilities, a man like Burke would have sparked your imagination, and your heart would have beat a little faster every time you saw him. But now…”

“I’ve had relationships before, but they didn’t work out. Once we mature, our hearts toughen up. We learn the hard way to avoid pain.”

“Life comes with joy and pain. You can’t avoid either, even if you try.” Elena paused, gathering her thoughts. “But these days, your work has become enough to make you happy, and that just shouldn’t be.”

“I’m very lucky to be able to make my living doing something that I love. If I don’t socialize much it’s because writing is very time-consuming. People think you get an idea for a book, then just sit down and type it out. But the truth is that the idea is just the beginning. The real work comes when you do draft after draft, until you practically know the book by heart.”

“You create fantasies and cater to illusions woman have held dear since they first heard of Prince Charming. But you’re not willing to take the same risks your heroines take. These days you want safety and guarantees before you give any man the time of day.”

“You make it sound as if I’m turning away truckloads of eligible men. But let’s face it, in my work, I seldom meet people at all. Creativity and solitude are companions. And when I do meet a new guy, they turn out to be like Ken.” She shuddered. “I’d rather be alone than with him.”

Elena smiled. “I don’t blame you there, but there’ve been others. Now this wonderful man steps into your life and you’re already busy finding fault—anything to keep from getting too close.”

“I’m not finding fault, Elena. I’m just pointing out that he could be a serial killer, for all we know.”

“He’s not.”

“And just how do you know that?”

“Because I keep my eyes and ears open. First, I’ve heard talk about him. He’s in some kind of law enforcement work. Mrs. Patrick told me that her son worked with him once.”

“The attorney?”

Elena nodded. “She wouldn’t give me the details. She said it was all confidential, but she spoke of our new neighbor with respect.”

Laura looked across the room pensively. Something still didn’t add up, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

“And look at what this house tells us about him. He’s a man who cares about the place he calls home and his heritage. Did you see the fetish in the nicho in the wall in the living room?”

Laura remembered seeing the recessed niche in the wall, but she hadn’t taken a closer look at what it contained. “No, I didn’t. What animal does the fetish depict?”

“The mountain lion. It’s on a special earthenware dish sprinkled with cornmeal, which is supposed to keep the fetish’s powers strong. The mountain lion is his animal medicine and that tells you about the man he is.”

“What’s it represent? Do you know?”

“Yes, I learned about animal fetishes and their medicine years ago because they fascinated me. The mountain lion is the hunter god. Think of the spiritual attributes of the animal—courage, faithful to his purpose and committed. That’s the animal medicine he draws upon.”

“Okay, Sherlock,” Laura teased. She took off Burke’s jacket, feeling warm now in a properly heated home. “But, for my sake, don’t be so quick to think the best of him. People in law enforcement, no matter what their background, aren’t always nice and stable.”

Elena shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry so much about you if you were at least curious about him and trying to learn more, but as it is…”

Wolf came up beside Laura and pressed his muzzle into her hand, asking to be petted. She scratched his head, enjoying the soft feel of his thick fur.

“You’ve never had a love that lasted,” Elena continued, “but now when you look at Burke, I see it flickering to life. Hold on to that. If your fears and doubts win over every time the opportunity comes, you’ll end up letting life slip right through your fingers.”

Laura started to make excuses, but decided to be honest instead. “I like my life the way it is. I don’t depend on anyone for my happiness, and that gives me a sense of security and accomplishment.”

“But there’s so much more to life. You’ve got to go out and meet new people and give yourself a chance.”

“There’s more to Burke than meets the eye, Elena. There’s a hard edge to that guy that doesn’t quite fit in with the charming man who graciously offered us his home.”

Elena sighed. “I’m going to bed. I can see that you’re determined to find a reason to back away. Will you at least think about what I’ve told you?”

Laura kissed her good-night. “I always do.”

After Elena had gone to bed, Laura wandered around the house, with Wolf padding along beside her. She stopped by the nicho in the wall where the animal fetish was kept, and studied the mountain lion. The four-inch figure, hand carved out of petrified wood, was exquisitely made. She started to touch it, but drew her hand back. It seemed too personal to disturb.

Laura continued to the den. The leather furniture looked comfortable and held that touch of masculinity that so defined Burke. This was a man’s room through and through. There was a no-nonsense, no-frills style of decor here that fitted in with what she’d learned about him so far, but nothing here really cast a light on his personal life.

In her own den there were photos of her mother, and a rare one of her father. He’d died when she was three. There were shots of picnics with Elena and Christmases with friends and family, a chronicle of good times past. But there was nothing of that sort here.

She looked at his bookcase, wondering what she’d be able to learn about him from his choice of reading material. She recognized several titles from her college days, such as The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli. If memory served her right, the author’s philosophy was simply that theological and moral arguments had no place in the political game. It was a gruesome, practical book that modern day military people were required to study. There was The Art of War by Tzu Sun, which ran along the same vein, A Book of Five Rings, which had been written by a famous samurai master. Then on a lighter vein—if one could call them that—were books by Ludlum, Clancy and Trevanian.

Missing were the kind of books she treasured—ones by Tolkien, or David Eddings, or Danielle Steele—books that mingled fantasy with romantic adventure. Of course, generally speaking, she didn’t share the reading tastes of most men, something she attributed to yet another instance of the left brain–right brain dichotomy.

Wondering which of the books on the shelf was his favorite, she leafed through several. It was clear from the wear and tear on the Clancy books that he’d reread all of them.

Well, at least he favored fiction.

Not in the least bit sleepy, Laura sat down on the leather sofa and looked around the room, wondering why there was nothing in the house, with the exception of the fetish and the books, capable of giving her a glimpse into Burke’s personal life. The more she mused about it, the more uneasy it made her. The place was beautiful, but more like a model home than an actual residence.

Finally, too restless to continue sitting, she stood. She had things to do. Wasting time was not her style. She’d go over to her own house and start putting things away and cleaning up. When Elena went to bed she rarely woke up until morning and, in the meantime, Wolf would keep her safe. No one in his right mind would risk getting an animal that large ticked off. Besides, Burke had said he wouldn’t be gone long.

As Laura put on Burke’s jacket and headed to the front door, Wolf came trotting up and sat directly in front of her, so close she could feel his breath on her leg. It was a little disconcerting, but as she looked down at him and saw him wag his tail, she knew it was okay.

Laura crouched down beside him and sank her fingers into the rough fur around his powerful neck. “I’m going to leave for a little while. You can watch Elena and make sure she’s safe.”

Laura tried to slip out the door, but the dog forced his way beside her.

“Wolf, no. You have to stay here.”

She pushed him back, hoping she wouldn’t get him angry, then slipped out the door quickly. Standing outside for a second, she heard him scratching at the door, but there was no howling or barking. Figuring she’d won this round, she locked the door and headed to her home.

Laura unlocked the front door and went inside, turning on the lights. The chaos the brightness revealed depressed her considerably.

Deciding quickly, she started in her office, knowing it was the one room she needed to get organized first, for her own peace of mind. Was it just her imagination, or did the room really look worse than when she’d left it a few hours ago? A relatively intact folder she was sure she’d seen earlier on the desk was now on the floor among the scattered papers.

Suddenly she saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye. Before she could even turn her head, a hand clamped down hard over her mouth and her arm was twisted painfully behind her back. It hurt so badly tears formed in her eyes.

“If you make a sound or struggle, I’ll rip off your arm,” the man growled. “Now tell me where it is, or I’ll just kill you right now,” he said, moving his hand back slightly from her mouth.

“What? What are you looking for?”

“Don’t play games,” he ordered, his voice no more than a rumble.

Terror shot through her. The man was crazy. Remembering a self-defense move the heroine of one of her books had used, Laura moaned and collapsed as if fainting, forcing the man to shift his hold to keep her from slipping away from him.

As his grip loosened, she stiffened and brought her heel down hard on his instep, simultaneously elbowing his stomach.

Laura screamed and twisted free. Only a few seconds ahead of her assailant, she raced for the front door, knowing it was her only chance.

Chapter Four

Laura threw the door open, ran out and collided abruptly with Burke. He wrapped his arms around her, steadying her.

“Laura, what’s wrong?”

Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it beating. “Someone grabbed me from behind,” she said. “He’s inside!”

“Wolf, guard her!” he ordered the dog, anger flaring on his face.

As Burke went past her into the house, Laura caught a glimpse of a figure going through the living room into the kitchen.

Realizing the man intended to escape out the back door, Laura made a split-second decision. She’d go around the outside of the house and try to catch a glimpse of him when he came out to the street. She needed to know who her enemy was and, with Wolf beside her, the man wouldn’t dare attack.

She was just approaching the driveway when the man leaped the fence that bordered her backyard, sprinting in her direction. She could hear Burke on the other side, closing in. Night shielded the stranger’s face in shadows and, before she could get a clearer look, he scooped up a large metal trash can and threw it directly at her.

At that instant, Wolf leaped up and knocked her to the ground, and the trash barrel missed by at least a foot. As it bounced across the yard, the man jumped into the passenger side of a parked car, barely escaping Burke’s leap over the fence and desperate lunge at the door. The vehicle roared away with squealing tires.

Burke ran a few more steps and, catching the vehicle tag number, wrote it down.

By the time Laura got to her knees, he was at her side. He helped her up, trying to gauge the extent of her injuries.

“Where do you hurt?” he asked brusquely, looking her up and down.

“I’m not hurt at all, I’m fine,” she assured him. “I have a few scuffs and bruises, but I’ll live.”

Burke shook his head. “Why did you try to head him off like that? What did you think you were going to do if you caught up to him?”

“I just wanted to get a look at his face. He threatened me in my own home.” Her voice trembled and she swallowed hard. “No one has a right to do that.”

“Home should be a place of safety, and he violated that. I understand. But you reacted without thinking it through,” he said, his tone somber. “And in situations like this, you can’t afford to do that. It’s dangerous to act impulsively, Laura. You have to be more careful.”

“I know, but I figured that with you at his heels and Wolf by my side, his focus would have been on getting away, not attacking me. And believe it or not, I never even noticed the car until he got in.”

Burke exhaled softly. “As you’ve seen, trouble can be anywhere. The intruder obviously had a partner. From now on, be more careful.” He looked down at the dog. “Okay, furball, if Laura ever goes off like that when you’re guarding her, subdue her. Knock her down and sit on her if you have to.”

Laura laughed. “He can’t possibly understand all of that.”

“No, but he does understand ‘Laura’ and ‘subdue.’ I wouldn’t try to run after a bad guy next time.”

“You mean he’ll bite?”

“Nah. He likes you. He’ll just knock you to the ground and stand over you, drooling. He’ll probably lick your face, too. Considering that he’s got a tongue that feels like a meat loaf, I can guarantee it won’t be a pleasant experience.”

“Ugh. That’s gross.”

“But true.” Burke cocked his head. “Come on. Let’s get back to your house.”

As they walked side by side, the warmth of his body so close to hers was unsettling. “I thought you worked at night,” she said, trying to bring her thoughts back to the business at hand. “Why did you come back so soon?”

“I just had to go meet with a contact. Investigations don’t depend on set hours.”

“So you are a cop?”

“A detective. Now tell me why you went back to your house when you did.”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to get a head start cleaning up and making whatever repairs I could.”

They stepped inside her house a few moments later. The lights were still on and, as she looked around, she sighed. “I’m going back to my office,” she said, leading the way. “It makes me crazy to see paperwork from a project that took me between six months to a year to complete, scattered all over the floor like trash.”

“First, we need to call the police again. Don’t touch anything, but check as best you can to determine if anything is missing,” Burke advised.

Laura nodded. “I can tell it’s going to be a long night.”

LAURA STOOD WITH BURKE in the living room as the police car drove away. As before, there were no revelations, but at least the officers had the vague description Laura could give of the intruder.

“Now maybe I can pick up some of this mess,” she sighed.

“You’ve had two break-ins back-to-back,” he said, following her into her office. “Could they be related to something associated with your work?” Burke began helping her pick up the papers. Then, giving in to curiosity, he read the top paragraph of the page in his hand. “‘His mouth closed gently over hers…’ Whoa.”

“I write romance novels, Detective.”

He grinned widely.

It was the same condescending, amused look she got from men who’d never picked up a romance novel in their lives. The look she gave him in return made the temperature in the room drop by twenty degrees. “They’re not Machiavelli, but they take thought, skill and a lot of work,” she said in a hard voice. “And they’re not just about sex.”

“What did I say?”

“It was written all over your face.” She’d spent years pointing out to critics of the genre that romance novels qualified as “real” books, and often wondered whether her readers went through the same nonsense.

“Do you write other stuff? Maybe I’ve read your work.”

“I doubt it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“If you’d read my work, you would have remembered,” she said, looking him straight in the eye.

He laughed. “Okay. Point taken.” He looked around. “If the break-ins aren’t the result of your work, then what’s your theory? Who’s doing this, and why?”

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “That man was crazy, angry, or both. He twisted my arm behind my back and told me he’d tear it off if I screamed. I honestly thought he might. It hurt that much.”

“So you were hurt.” Without even thinking about it, Burke moved closer to her, and she felt his nearness with every fiber of her being. Ripples of uneasiness and excitement danced through her.

“I’m fine now,” she stated, stepping back. She couldn’t even breathe when he stood so near. “He just scared me, particularly when he said he’d kill me unless I told him what he wanted to know.”

“And that was…?”

“He wanted me to tell him where ‘it’ was. I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about. But I was terrified of what he was going to do next.” Laura told Burke about her self-defense move, then shivered.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, then slid them upward in a slow caress until he cupped her face. Awareness shimmered between them as they stood facing each other for one breathless moment.

“You don’t have to be afraid again,” he said, his voice low and seductive. “I’m going to stick around to help you even out the odds.”

Laura couldn’t think; emotions swirled wildly inside her. His palms were rough, hard and very male, and his touch intoxicating.

Hearing a loud crash in the direction of the kitchen, Laura jumped. Burke reached beneath his jacket, and she saw that the same hand that had caressed her now held a gun.

“Stay here,” he said.

He moved purposefully out of the room toward the sound. “It’s clear,” he called out a moment later.

She found him and Wolf next to the open door in the kitchen. A gust of wind blowing in had stirred a window curtain, which in turn had toppled a miniature carnival glass hurricane lamp from the counter.

Laura began picking up the broken pieces with a heavy heart. It was a keepsake from long ago—one of the few things she’d kept since high school. Some boy whose name she’d long ago forgotten had won the little lamp for her at the fair while on a double date. The trinket, which would have cost only a few dollars, represented a time in her life when she’d been open to the possibility of romance in her future. She’d later used the lamp in her first published novel to represent that same hope for her heroine.

“That lamp obviously meant something special to you. I’m sorry it’s broken,” Burke said.

Sadly, she gathered up the pieces, wondering if she could glue them back together. Then, with a sigh, she dropped them into a wastebasket.

“Maybe it’ll help if you talk about it,” he said softly.

She shook her head. “Like with most things, what made it special were the memories it held for me.”

Before Burke could ask more, and she’d have to explain all about the lamp and what it meant to her writing career, she switched the topic of conversation. “I really want to try and secure my home from another break-in before we leave tonight. Any ideas?”

“Since the lock in the front still works, that should keep any street thugs temporarily at bay. We could use some boards to hold the back door shut. But it’ll mean that the repairmen will have one more thing to do when they come.”

“It’s still a good trade-off as far as I’m concerned. But where am I going to get wood at this hour?” She glanced at her watch. It was nearly one in the morning.

“I think I’ve got a few pieces of plywood in my garage—mostly scraps the previous owner of the house left behind, but I think they’ll work.”

“I have a hammer, hand saw and a box of nails in the garage.”

“So we’re all set,” Burke said, walking to the door.

“Let me give you a hand bringing the boards over,” she said.

“No, don’t worry about it. I’ll be back in a minute.” He paused, then quickly added, “But if you don’t want to stay here alone right now—”

“I’m fine.” He hadn’t meant it as a challenge, but it was one nonetheless. Pride set Laura’s course. “While you’re taking care of that, I’ll start cleaning up here.”

“I’ll leave Wolf with you. Just remember, he’ll knock you down and drool all over you if you don’t stay put,” he added with a smile.

“Okay,” Laura said. “But don’t think I’m going to be taking orders from now on. Next time I’ll wear a wet suit and do whatever I please, anyway.”

“I think I’d enjoy seeing you in a wet suit.” His slow, languorous grin made her tingle in all the wrong places.

She threw a pillow at him. “So far you’ve been gallant—a knight in leather armor. Don’t ruin it for me.”

He laughed. “I’m no romance hero.”

“How would you know? Have you ever read a romance novel?” she countered smoothly.

“Nope. You busted me there,” he said. “Well, I better go get what I need.”

It took another half hour of work before the back door was secure. Laura helped, and nailed some of the pieces in place herself.

“For someone who works with fantasies and fiction, you’re very helpful in the real world,” Burke commented.

“I’ve had to be. My mother was sick most of my life and I had to take care of both of us. Money was scarce for us back then, so I learned to do a little bit of everything. Now that I own this house, that’s come in handy. I’m starting to collect some tools, and I don’t always have to call in a plumber or a handyman when I need something done.”

Finished, Burke looked through the rear window at the garden, a place he’d run through only a short time ago without paying much attention to anything except a fleeing criminal. Just beyond the glow of the porch light, moonlight spilled over multicolored tulips and other spring flowers. A stone walkway, bordered by white flowers, glittered with specks of silver and led to the central flower bed. It astounded him that anyone could create something that dazzling in a place where the soil was basically nothing more than sand. “I’ve never met a romance author,” he said quietly, then glanced back at her. “But it actually suits my image of you.”

Laura watched him carefully, trying to figure out what he’d meant. From his tone of voice, she was almost certain it was a compliment. But experience warned her that men often confused a romance author with a fluffette, and she wouldn’t have taken kindly to being seen in that light.

Before she could ask him, he gestured to the wooden kitchen chairs that had survived intact, and sat across from her. “Laura, there’s something I need to explain. I’m not associated with the police. I’m a private investigator. I work for Gray Wolf Investigations.”

She’d heard of the firm. It was a prestigious one, often mentioned in the newspaper in association with VIP cases, or with crimes they’d solved that the police had been unable to close.

“With people breaking in and threatening you, you’ve obviously got a serious problem,” Burke continued. “With your permission, I’d like to look into this situation for you. It won’t require you hiring the agency. I’ll do it on my own time.”

“No, I can’t accept that. I have my own financial resources. Let me hire you instead.”

“I’ll tell you what. Let me do some preliminary work. That’s free of charge, and after that, we can talk.”

Laura shook her head. “I know you’re giving me a chance to keep it informal and just between us, but I’m not comfortable with that. It’s a very generous offer, mind you, but the fact is I know absolutely nothing about you. I’m not even sure of your name—is Burke your surname, or, as my godmother would say, your given name?”

“My name is Burke Silentman.”

“I understand from living next door to the reservation, so to speak, that the Navajo people don’t like their proper names used. Do you have a nickname?”

He smiled, pleased that she’d extended him that courtesy. “Burke is an Anglo name. I got used to having people use it when I served in the military, so it doesn’t bother me. But many of us, like me, also have secret names we never divulge. We believe that to know someone’s secret name is to have power over that person.”

“All right. Then Burke it is.”

“I’m very good at what I do for a living, Laura, and, from what I can see, you need help, the kind the local police can’t provide. Let me at least find out what you’re up against.”

“Okay,” she said, blinking against the light through heavy-lidded eyes.

“But right now you’re tired, and so am I. The house is secure. What do you say we go back to my home and call it a night?” He stood, and Wolf was instantly by his side.

She nodded. “That’s a great idea. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

As the three of them walked down the sidewalk to his place, Burke stayed close beside her on the street side. Although they weren’t even touching, she was acutely aware of everything about him. Moonlight spilled over him, accentuating the sculpted angles of his face. He spoke of in-consequential things, but his voice held her captivated. It was a rich, deep baritone, tailor-made for dark, midnight promises.

Annoyed with the turn her thoughts had taken, she focused on the present. Burke was, simply put, a complication in her life—one she just didn’t need. She’d use his professional expertise and pay him and, in that way, make it clear that although she’d accepted his hospitality, she wasn’t interested in a personal relationship.

When they entered Burke’s home, the place was silent. Careful not to wake Elena, Laura started down the hall, following Burke, who was going to get some extra blankets from the linen closet. As she reached her room, Laura crouched down to pet Wolf, who’d followed her. “Are you sleeping with me tonight?” she asked softly.

Burke actually choked when he heard the question. His head snapped around quickly, then he saw her speaking to the dog.

Laura saw the look on his face and realized what had happened, but before she could comment, he focused his attention on the dog.

“Wolf, come!” he ordered, and Wolf complied instantly.

“I wouldn’t have minded if he’d slept at the foot of the bed,” Laura said.

“No way. He’ll sleep on his blanket in the hall and guard all of us.”

“All right.” Laura took the blankets Burke offered her, entered the room and shut the door behind her. This room—this entire house—was Burke’s domain. She could feel him here in the furnishings he’d chosen, and in the dark, rich colors that contrasted with the light walls and ceiling. Even the very air she breathed held his unmistakable mark, making her senses come alive.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and gathered her thoughts. This just wouldn’t do. The attraction between them was too strong and too dangerous to indulge, even a little bit.

Burke had walked into her life and, unless she was careful, would turn her entire world upside down.

She sighed softly. Fate had conspired against her, and instinct told her that nothing would ever be quite the same again.

USING THE PHONE in the den, Burke called in and made his report. Handler didn’t like to be kept waiting. Burke had spoken to him when he’d gone to retrieve the wood for Laura’s back door, and asked for a trace on the license number and vehicle the intruder had used to escape. At the time, he’d promised to call back within a half hour in case Handler had tracked it down. But Burke hadn’t been able to do so until now.

“Handler” was the code name for the owner of the agency. His identity was shrouded in secrecy, and though Burke was the most senior operative and supervised the other investigators, he’d never learned who Handler was. For what he’d been told were security reasons, Handler’s identity remained a secret, even from him.

“So she’s with you now?” Handler asked, verifying what Burke had reported.

“Yes, Laura Santos is here and safe for now,” he answered. Remembering the softness of her lips and the way her body had melted into his, safe was probably not the word he should have used.

“And she doesn’t know that you’ve already been hired to protect her?”

“No, and I really don’t think she has the remotest idea what’s going on, or why she’s a target.”

“I know you’ll stay on top of things.”

The idle remark, in this instance, made a very graphic and vivid image form in his mind. His body grew instantly hard.

“Keep me posted, Burke.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve e-mailed you the information you asked for on the license plate of the suspect’s vehicle. You’ll find it next time you log on.”

As he placed the receiver down, Burke leaned back in the chair. Handler’s electronically altered voice had originally bothered him, but he was getting used to it now. As far as he was concerned, it was a small inconvenience that came with a job he loved. His years with Gray Wolf had been good ones, and once he’d become supervisor, he’d given up his code name to remain the only traceable operative at the firm.

He was the number one operative of an elite team, took on the most dangerous assignments himself, and, best of all, he’d avoided working a nine-to-five job—something that ranked close to getting a case of malaria on the Burke Silentman scale of really bad news.

The house was still and the hour late, but he wasn’t ready to go to bed yet. As was his habit, he switched on the computer at his desk to check his e-mail, and while the program booted up, considered the events of the last few hours. This whole case was a strange one, and had been from the beginning. Since that day three weeks ago when Doug had sent him an e-mail from West Medias, a country in Europe known for its warring factions—an e-mail that had been mysteriously cut off midsentence—things had been far from normal.

Burke fished his wallet out of his back pocket, then reached for a photo of him and Doug. It had been taken shortly after they’d completed Intelligence training in the Special Forces.

He smiled, looking at the younger version of himself and his friend. Throughout his entire life, after the death of his brother, Hoops, he’d only had one close buddy, Douglas Begay. Like him, Doug had seen hard times on the rez. They’d joined the Special Forces together as soon as they could to escape the poverty of the Navajo Nation.

Over the years, they’d managed to stay in close contact. But all Burke really knew of Doug’s life now was that he officially worked in Europe for a legitimate publishing house—a job Burke had deduced was nevertheless a cover for what he really did. His buddy was heavily involved with Freedom International, a privately funded watchdog organization that championed human rights.

Then, out of the blue, he’d sent that e-mail letter hiring Gray Wolf to protect the writer, Laura Santos—someone Doug had never met, as far as Burke knew. Unfortunately, the e-mail hadn’t only been incomplete—it had been impossibly vague. The only thing Burke knew for a fact was that Doug wouldn’t have hired them to protect Laura unless it was imperative that they do so. Recent events seemed to bear that out.

Yet the only connection he could see between Doug and Laura was that Doug worked for a small publisher abroad—and Laura was a romance novelist. Laura’s background hadn’t revealed any link to West Medias.

He needed to contact Doug and find out more, but there wasn’t any way for him to do that without heading overseas for a visit, and that just wasn’t possible. He was afraid to try and send an e-mail or a letter, or attempt a phone call, in case Doug was in as much trouble as he suspected, and was being monitored.

Checking his e-mail, Burke found only a message from Handler informing him that the license tag was stolen, and probably the car as well. Finding nothing from Doug, Burke turned the computer off. It was time to call it a night. He walked down the hall silently, leaving Wolf to guard them, and went inside his room, closing the door behind him.

Burke stripped off his clothes, letting them fall on the floor. He preferred sleeping in the nude, but considering the events of today, he decided to wear a pair of jogging pants for pajamas in case of an emergency.

Setting his weapon on the nightstand, within easy reach, he crawled into bed. But sleep wouldn’t come. The cool touch of the sheets against his chest reminded him of the silkiness of Laura’s hair and the smoothness of her skin. He’d never forget her taste and the way she’d felt in his arms.

Annoyed with himself, he pushed her out of his mind. He had normal, healthy urges, just like any other man, but he’d never found it this difficult to keep anyone out of his thoughts, particularly a woman he’d just met.

Of course, he’d known from the moment he’d kissed her that things would be different with Laura. This case would test him, but the real danger would have little to do with the men that might come after them before it was all over.

With a groan, he shifted to his side and closed his eyes. No more thoughts. Not tonight.

As he drifted off to sleep, his mind filled with vivid images of spring blossoms, a dark-haired beauty and a passion that wouldn’t be denied.

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