Some Kind of Hero

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Some Kind of Hero
Brenda Harlen


SHE HADN'T KNOWN SHE'D BEEN MISSING.He had cop written over every inch of his tempting body, and beautiful senator's daughter Riane Rutherford-Quinlan knew from the moment he asked her to dance that he wasn't the type to attend charity balls. He was there for a reason. He was searching for something - or someone.UNTIL HE FOUND HER.Ex-cop turned private investigator Joel Logan had been hired to find a child illegally adopted over twenty years ago. A child, now a woman, who had no idea she'd been living a lie. Could Joel tell her the truth without destroying her secure world? Or would his own desire for Riane lead to a mistake that could cost her life - and his heart?












You want me to trust you? Youve lied to me since the day we met.


Client privilege be damned, Joel decided. He couldnt let Riane continue to believe the worst. I came to West Virginia to see your mother because I thought she might be able to help with a case Im working on. I have a client whos trying to find someone.

A missing person?

Not missing, exactly, Joel hedged. The woman Im looking for was adopted twenty-two years ago.

Why do you think my mother can help?

He hesitated, reluctant to state the conclusion that would crumble all Rianes conceptions about her life. But the fierce determination in her eyes forced his hand. She wouldnt let him continue to evade. More compelling than that, however, was the realization that he owed her the truth.

I think youre the woman Im looking for.


Dear Reader,

Welcome to another fabulous month of the most exciting romance reading around. And what better way to begin than with a new TALL, DARK & DANGEROUS novel from New York Times bestselling author Suzanne Brockmann? Night Watch has it all: an irresistible U.S. Navy SEAL hero, intrigue and danger, andof coursepassionate romance. Grab this one fast, because its going to fly off the shelves.

Dont stop at just one, however. Not when youve got choices like Fathers and Other Strangers, reader favorite Karen Templetons newest of THE MEN OF MAYES COUNTY. Or how about Dead Calm, the long-awaited new novel from multiple-award-winner Lindsay Longford? Not enough good news for you? Then check out new star Brenda Harlens Some Kind of Hero, or Night Talk, from the always-popular Rebecca Daniels. Finally, try Trust No One, the debut novel from our newest find, Barbara Phinney.

And, of course, well be back next month with more pulse-pounding romances, so be sure to join us then. Meanwhileenjoy!






Leslie J. Wainger

Executive Editor




Some Kind of Hero

Brenda Harlen










BRENDA HARLEN


grew up in a small town surrounded by books and imaginary friends. Although she always dreamed of being a writer, she chose to follow a more traditional career path first. After two years of practicing as an attorney (including an appearance in front of the Supreme Court of Canada), she gave up her real job to be a mom and to try her hand at writing books. Three years, five manuscripts and another baby later, she sold her first bookan RWA Golden Heart Winnerto Silhouette.

Brenda lives in Southern Ontario with her real-life husband/hero, two heroes-in-training and two neurotic dogs. She is still surrounded by books (too many books, according to her children) and imaginary friends, but she also enjoys communicating with real people. Readers can contact Brenda by e-mail at brendaharlen@yahoo.com or by snail mail c/o Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001 New York, NY 10279.


A lot of this book is about family,

and Id like to dedicate this story to mine.

To my parents

Diane & John and Dan & Marj

for giving me such a wonderful example of family.

To Shelly and Jim,

whom I am privileged not just to call

my sister and brother but also my friends.

To Robin & Hazel

for always accepting me as part of their family.

And, of course, to Neill and Connor and Ryan.

I love you all.

P.S. This book is also dedicated to Ken, who didnt even blink when his wife said three unknown women were coming to invade his cottage for a weeklong writers retreat. (During which time this story took form in spite of Kate and Sharon and Sheryl. Thanks anyway, ladies.)




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17




Chapter 1


It took Riane Quinlan half a minute to peg the tall, dark-haired man across the room as an out-of-towner, another thirty seconds to figure him for a cop.

Shed spotted him the minute he stepped through the ornately carved double doors of the hotel ballroom where the Fourth Annual Quinlan Camp Charity Ball was in progress. Part of the reason was that his was an unfamiliar face at this type of event. Another part of the reason was much more basic. Whoever he was, he was an incredible specimen of masculinity: broad shoulders, hard muscles, thick dark hair that was just a little too long for the conservative tastes of the social elite.

Not a departmental regulation crew cut, but some guys took pride in breaking the rules. This man, with the chiseled jaw, strong nose and slashing brows, looked like one of them.

From a distance, Riane couldnt determine what color his eyes were, just that they were dark and intense.

He took a slow survey of the room. Deliberately casual. Too casual.

Definitely a cop.

As the daughter of a U.S. senator, Riane had been shadowed often enough to recognize the inherent attributes of those in law enforcement. The sculpted physique, the guarded stance, the constant attentiveness. There were security personnel hovering in the background this evening, but she knew this man wasnt one of them. He wasnt hired musclejust a cop.

Her lips curved in a small smile. Just a cop was hardly an accurate description. He was almost larger than lifea real mans man, the type of man she didnt often have opportunity to cross paths with in her social circles.

As he continued his perusal of the room, his gaze collided with hers. The force of the impact literally took her breath away. His eyes narrowed, skimmed over her in a blatantly masculine assessment. She felt her skin heat, an unavoidably feminine reaction.

He held her gaze a moment longer, then turned his head, dismissing her.

Except that Riane wouldnt be dismissed.

She made her way through the sea of rustling silk and black ties, stopping now and again to speak with someone she hadnt caught up with earlier. She smiled at the secretary of state and tried to ignore the fact that her toes were starting to cramp.

It had been a mistake to wear new shoes when she was going to be on her feet for the better part of the evening, but the sling-back sandals were such a perfect match for the silk crepe dress, she hadnt been able to resist. Shed spent the better part of her twenty-four years in the public eye and knew that image was more important than comfort.

She glanced toward the back of the room again, and her eyes locked with his.

Blue, she realized. His eyes were a startling, stunning shade of blue. And just a little wary.

Her curiosity further piqued, she breached the last few feet that separated them and offered her most winning smile. I dont believe weve met.

He hesitated a beat before he shifted his untouched champagne glass and offered his hand. Joel Logan.

His voice was deep and incredibly sensuous, causing her blood to heat in her veins. She disregarded the sensation. She was more than likely overheated from the multitude of lights in the enormous chandeliers, not from hearing this man speak two words to her.

Reassured, she put her hand in his, felt it engulfed by his warm strength. His handshake was firm, his palm wide and slightly callused. There was nothing improper or inappropriate about the contact, and yet she felt a sudden burst of heat arrow straight to her core. She withdrew her hand quickly from his grasp.

Riane Quinlan, she told him.

I know.

He said nothing else, offered none of the usual pleasantries.

Riane was intrigued. Her familys wealth and political connections had accustomed her to more deferential treatment. People went out of their way to impress her, never knowing when they might need a personal favor or political ally. But shed bet every last dollar of the trust fund her grandmother had left her that Joel Logan didnt bow and scrape for anyone, and she couldnt help but admire him for it.

She tried another smile. What brings you here tonight, Mr. Logan?

A desire to support the Quinlan Camp for Underprivileged Children?

It was more of a question than an answer, and she couldnt decide if he was just unsociable or deliberately trying to annoy her. She should thank him for his support and leave it at that, but there was something about him that made it impossible for her to walk away.

It must help that your shoulders are so broad, she commented.

He frowned at her. Excuse me?

Your shoulders, she said again. They must be the reason you can walk upright with the size of that chip youre carrying.

He shifted his champagne glass into his other hand again, his scowl deepening.

Dark, moody, and no sense of humor, Riane decided. She signaled to a nearby waiter, turned to speak with him briefly. When the server disappeared, she plucked the crystal flute from Joels hand and brought it to her own lips, sipping the cool, bubbly liquid.

I wasnt finished with that, he said testily.

I know. Her response was unapologetic.

His mouth opened, then closed again when the waiter returned with a tall pilsner glass filled with amber-colored liquid, a thick foam head skimming the frosty rim.

Thanks, Jeffrey. Riane took the glass and offered it to Joel. I thought this might be more to your liking.

For half a second she thought he might refuse the drink, but thirst must have triumphed over obstinacy as he reached for the glass. His fingers brushed against hers and she felt that zing again.

What makes you think you know what I like? Joel challenged.

She took another sip of his champagne before responding. Its something of a hobby of minestudying people.

Have you been studying me?

I study everyone.

And what do you think youve learned?

You dont like champagne, she said, and you wont pretend to enjoy it, even though everyone else guzzles it like water at this kind of event.

He tipped the glass of beer to his lips and drank, his eyes still on hers.

I imagine you suffered through dinner, she continued.

The food and the conversation. You would probably have preferred a nice thick steak, rare, and a discussion about the Yankees chances at the pennant.

She saw the corners of his mouth twitch, wondered if he might actually smile. He didnt.

Medium well, was all he said.

Sorry?

My steak, he clarified. Medium well. I like to be sure its dead.

And the Yankees? she prompted.

Now he did smile, and it completely transformed him. With his dark and somber expression, he was dangerously handsome. With those sensual lips curved, he was devastating.

Absolutely.

She nodded, but couldnt for the life of her even remember what the question had been. The man had just smiled, and her mind had blanked.

Is that the end of your analysis? he prompted.

Not quite, she said, wondering whether she should pursue the issue or make a tactical retreat. He intrigued hermaybe too much. She was a woman used to being in control of her life and her emotions. But after less than ten minutes in Joel Logans company, she felt her comfortable world tilting crazily on its axis. It thrilled her. And terrified her.

What else do you think you know?

Youre looking for someone. Someone you expected to be here. Whether he is or not, I couldnt say, because I dont know who it is, but I know you havent found him. Or her, she amended quickly.

He pinned her with that deep blue gaze, and she felt as if all the bones in her body had simply melted. When he spoke again, the low, throaty tone was as seductive as a caress. Maybe Im just looking for someone to take home for a quick bout of hot, sweaty sex.

I hadnt completely disregarded that possibility, she acknowledged, a little breathlessly. But I think if that was what you wanted, you would have found her by now.

Im flattered, I think.

Just an observation, Mr. Logan. So why dont you tell me what it is that brought you to West Virginia?

Why do you assume Im not a local?

If you were, wed have met before now. And she definitely would have remembered. Joel Logan wasnt the type of man any woman would forget.

Im here on business, he admitted after a pause.

What kind of business?

You havent figured that out?

Im still working on it, she said. But I havent been able to think of any reason why an out-of-town cop is at my fund-raiser.

Im not a cop. He took another sip of his beer.

Oh. She frowned. Then, in an accusatory tone, she said, You look like a cop. Standing at the far end of the room, your back to the wall, as if you expect armed gunmen to come charging through the door.

This time his smile seemed to come more easily. I used to be a cop, he conceded.

And now?

He shrugged. Now Im not.



Joel tipped his glass to his lips again and drank deeply, wishing for at least the hundredth time since Shaun McIver walked into his office that hed refused this assignment. It should have been a simple job: to find a child who had been adopted twenty-two years earlier. But four months later Joel had made scant progress.

The few facts hed managed to uncover so far led him straight to Senator Ellen Rutherford-Quinlan. If the senator had information that would help find Shauns fiances sister, Joel was determined to get it. Which was his reason for coming to West Virginia.

He hadnt counted on crossing paths with Riane Quinlan, though. And hed been completely unprepared for the quick punch of arousal that struck low in his belly when hed first set eyes on her.

A smart investigator would turn the situation to his advantageget whatever information he could from the daughter as the mother was nowhere to be found. But he was having difficulty thinking like an investigator with the subtle scent of Rianes perfume fogging his brain.

Which meant that the wisest thing would be to establish and maintain a safe distance from Riane Quinlan. He needed answers, and he wasnt going to get them if he allowed himself to be distracted. The senators daughter was quite a distraction.

Riane, darling

Joel exhaled a silent sigh of relief as she was forced to turn her attention to the stocky woman who descended upon them in a cloud of sweet scent and glittering sequins.

Margaret, Riane said, exchanging air kisses with the older woman. Im so pleased you could make it.

The woman looked vaguely familiar to Joel, but it took a moment to search his memory banks for the reference. When it clicked, he wondered that his jaw didnt hit the floor. Margaret Cassidy. The attorney general of the United States.

The upper echelons of political society had turned out for this eventall the way from Washington, even. A reminder of how much political clout the Rutherford-Quinlans wielded. As if he needed any reminders. Hed tangled with them once before, and that encounter had cost Joel his reputation and his career.

He was clearly out of his element here, even if no one else seemed to realize it. He didnt fit in with these people; he didnt want to. Hed attended this gala event because his client was paying all incidental costsincluding the thousand-dollar ticket for dinner and the rental of this damn tuxand because hed been confident he could remain in the background. Riane had taken that option away from him. And he wasnt sure if he should be flattered or annoyed that hed caught her attention.

While she was preoccupied with the attorney general, Joel scanned the room again, searching for the elusive senator. Ellen Rutherford-Quinlans name had been on the top of the guest list. This charity camp was her daughters pet project. So where the hell was she?

His head snapped back to the conversation beside him when the attorney general said, Im so sorry I missed your mother.

She didnt want to miss the ball, Riane told her. But Daddy convinced her that it was more important to celebrate their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary.

Daddy. Joel fought the urge to roll his eyes. How many grown women referred to their fathers as daddy? Then the impact of what she was saying registered and he nearly groaned out loud: the senator wasnt going to make an appearance here tonight.

He accepted the fresh glass of beer the waiter brought to him without question and tipped it to his lips, cursing the fact that hed wasted his timeand his clients moneyin attending this gala event. Hell, his whole trip to West Virginia might turn out to have been a waste of time.

Riane said goodbye to the older woman, turned back to him and smiled. Joel felt that quick punch of desire again and had to remind himself of all the reasons that the senators daughter was off-limits.

She wasnt his type, anyway. She was too sophisticated and high class. Too everything. He preferred a woman with more simple tastes, more basic desires. And blond, he reminded himself, even as his fingers itched to pull the pins out of Rianes dark silky hair to let it tumble freely down her back.

Joel swallowed, hard. Yeah, he definitely preferred blondes.

Like the one beside the window, tall and slender in body-hugging green velvet. Her hand was on the arm of a short, portly man who looked old enough to be her father, but the hefty chunk of diamond on the womans hand suggested otherwise.

Despite the ring and the presence of her companion, she caught Joels eye and sent him a blatantly invitational glance from beneath lowered lashes. There was nothing complicated about that one, Joel thought approvingly. Except that he never cut in on another mans territory. It was one of few rules he lived by, and one hed never consider violating. He knew too well how it felt to be on the other side of that equation.

Meredith Ashcroft, Riane said, close to his ear. Of the Boston Ashcroftsby marriage. Now divorced and currently engaged to Justice Cunningham.

The man in the ill-fitting tux?

Thats the one, Riane agreed. He hasnt bought a new suit in the past ten years because he wont admit that hes put on forty pounds. He thinks he has the same physique that impressed his first wife. She left him more than a dozen years ago and took half his money. He still possesses a sizable fortune and an impressive position on the bench, which is why Ms. Ashcroft is in line to become wife number three.

A friend of yours?

Rianes smile was thin. An acquaintance, she clarified.

But I could arrange an introduction, if you wanted.

You said she was engaged.

Does that matter to you?

Yes.

A cop with morals, she mused.

Im not a cop, he said again.

So you said. But you didnt say what you are.

Not wanting to reveal too much about his reasons for being in West Virginia, he opted to try diversion again. Do you dance?

She tilted her head. Is that a hypothetical question or an invitation?

An invitation.

She studied him for another moment, as if considering his motives, then nodded. All right.

Joel led the way to the dance floor, reassuring himself that hed issued the invitation solely to prevent her from continuing her inquiry. He wasnt ready for her to find out who he was, his real reason for being there. Not until he knew whether or not she was the answer to his questions.

Then Riane put her hand in his, and desire surged through him. Hot and hard. And he knew that however he chose to rationalize the request in his own mind, the simple fact was that hed wanted to hold her. She was sexy and beautiful and intriguing, and it had been far too long since hed been with a woman.

The intensity of his own reaction shook him. He was a man of action, in charge of his life, responsible for his own decisions. Yet the moment she turned into his arms, he felt a spiraling sense of panic, a stunning realization that this was out of his control.

Hed only ever felt this way once beforetoward the end of the Conroy investigation. Just as all the pieces seemed to be falling into place, hed known that it had been a little too easy. Hed ignored the instinct, convinced himself it was paranoia.

Hed been wrong.

There was no way hed make the same mistake again.

Okay, so maybe he was overreacting a little this time. Riane Quinlan was a woman. She might be beautiful, sexy, intriguing, but she was still just a woman.

Yet his instincts warned him that she was dangerous. Very dangerous. Because the scent of her clouded his mind; the subtle curves of her body made him forget his reason for being there; those full, painted lips tempted him to taste. Riane Quinlan made him not just forget, but want to forget, that she was off-limits.

Just a woman?

Like hell. This woman was more dangerous than a roomful of Zane Conroys trigger-happy minions with fully automatic Mac 10s.

He misstepped, and her hip brushed against his thigh. The fleeting contact jarred him, and he felt his blood begin to migrate southward. He forced himself to concentrate on moving his feet, determined to avoid any more such accidents so that she wouldnt notice how affected he was by her.

Not that his physical response should surprise her. He was, after all, just a man, and she was as warm and soft as the scent that clung to her. And she fit in his arms as if it was where she was meant to be.

Joel gave himself a mental shake. It was ridiculous to even imagine such things. Riane Quinlan might fit in his arms, but she could never fit into his life. Nor he in hers. He knew that opposites could attract. He also knew, from personal experience, that they couldnt coexist for very long.

How long are you going to be in West Virginia? Riane asked, breaking the silence that had stretched between them.

Im not sure, he responded, then he made the mistake of looking at her. Shed tilted her head upward to speak to him, and her glossy lips were mere inches from his own. He only needed to lower his head a fraction and he could taste her. It was a tempting proposition. Too tempting. Too dangerous.

He tore his gaze from her mouth, saw that she was watching him. Her own eyes were dark, aware. Hed feel much more confident in his ability to do his job if he could keep his distance from Riane Quinlan. And he wouldnt be able to keep his distance if she kept looking at him like that.

Focus, Logan.

Somewhere in the back recesses of his mind this niggling reminder from his conscience registered. He knew he was dangerously close to losing his focus, and he couldnt afford to make any mistakes. Not this time.

Riane, he said. Thats a rather unusual name, isnt it?

Its a feminine form of Ryan, which is my fathers name.

His preliminary investigation had revealed that fact, but he didnt know if the similarity was by design or coincidence. That was what he needed to find out, and that was why he needed to talk to the senator.

Isnt your mother usually a supporter of the Quinlan Camp Charity Ball?

So much for being discreet, he thought, as the question blurted out of his mouth. But he was more worried about self-preservation than discretion at this point.

If Riane was startled by the abrupt change of topic, she gave no indication of it. Yes, she admitted. And I was a little worried that her absence this year would affect attendance, but thankfully it hasnt been a problem.

She wont be making an appearance tonight?

I doubt it. She smiled at him once more, drawing his gaze back to that luscious mouth, tempting him all over again. Shes in Thailand.

Thailand?

Riane nodded. She and my father went on a cruise to celebrate their anniversary.

Joel expected to be annoyed, even angry, at this revelation. His sole purpose in being here this evening was to contact the senator. But it was difficult to be angry when there was a soft, fragrant woman in his arms. Impossible to be annoyed that his source of information had been wrong.

How long will they be gone?

What is your interest in my mother, Mr. Logan?

Joel, he said, and smiled.

But shed homed in on the direction of his questions and wouldnt be deterred. What is your interest in my mother, Joel?

I was just hoping, since I was in town anyway, that I might have an opportunity to meet with the senator.

Are you a Republican supporter?

He realized, with reluctant admiration, that she was trying to trip him up. And had he not done his homework thoroughly, she might have done so with that question. Her mother was a Democrat.

Im not a card-carrying member of any party, he told her.

He wasnt sure if his response convinced her, but she let it drop. Joel accepted the reprieve, recognizing that hed have to be a little more subtle if he didnt want to raise Rianes suspicions any further.

Preoccupied with these thoughts, he failed to spot the photographer until the flash of the cameras bulb blinded him. He instinctively stepped away, crushing Rianes toes in his haste.

Ouch.

Sorry. He mumbled the apology automatically, concentrated on breathing to slow the rapid beating of his heart as different reminiscences assailed him. Flash after flash. The incessant glare blinding. Reporters shoving, shouting. Microphones thrust at him. Headline after headline. Day after day. Until he dreaded even leaving his home.

Are you undercover? Riane asked.

Joel scowled. Im not a cop.

Then why did you jump three feet when that flashbulb went off?

I dont like having my picture taken.

Why not?

Im not very photogenic, he said dryly.

Riane laughed, and the soft, sexy sound was a welcome distraction from the recent direction of his thoughts.

I doubt that, she said.

I didnt know the press would be here, Joel admitted. But he should have known, and he should have been prepared.

I would have been disappointed if they werent, Riane told him. The more publicity we can generate for the Quinlan Camp, the better. High-level exposure equates to high-level contributions.

He understood that. Just as he understood that Riane was accustomed to living in the spotlightthe last place Joel wanted to be. Hed had his life scrutinized by the media before, and he never wanted to live like that again.

He could only hope that some enterprising young reporter didnt dig deep enough to discover the identity of Riane Quinlans dance partner. Then as soon as this case was closed, hed be out of her life forever.

Still, as the song began to wind down, Joel found himself reluctant to let her go. He knew she was a distraction he could ill afford, a complication he wasnt prepared for, but he couldnt deny his attraction to her.

And when the final notes of the song merged into the first bars of the next, he didnt figure it would hurt to hold her just a little while longer.

Then there was a firm tap on his shoulder and a smooth, masculine voice saying, If you dont mind, Id like a dance with my fiance.




Chapter 2


Riane felt the censure in Joels gaze as he relinquished her hand to Stuart without comment and walked off the dance floor. She wanted to follow him, to explain, but pride prevented her from doing so. He had no right to make judgments about her, and besides, a well-bred lady didnt chase after any man.

Instead she concentrated her attention on her new dance partner, who had already swept her into his arms and was moving smoothly to the strains of the music. Stuarts movements were effortless, each step and turn flawlessly executed. There wasnt anything that he didnt do well, and he was an incredible dancer. But his touch didnt heat her blood the way Joels had done. Her body didnt yearn to press close to his as it had when shed been dancing with the mysterious Mr. Logan.

She pushed the traitorous thoughts impatiently aside. She was a twenty-four-year-old woman, not a hormonal adolescent. It wasnt like her to react to a man on such a primal level. Human beings were supposed to be civilized, to have power over their more basic urges.

Still, she couldnt deny that something about Joel Logan appealed to her on a most fundamental level. Unwillingly, her gaze strayed to the back of the room where hed once again stationed himself.

The formality of his attire failed to disguise the raw power he exuded. He had to be well over six feetas shed had to tip her head to meet his gaze despite the three inches her heels added to her five-foot, ten-inch framewith broad shoulders tapering to a trim waist and long, lean legs. Just the memory of those muscles, solid and unyielding, caused her breath to quicken, her pulse to race.

You seem lost in thought, Stuart commented lightly.

Riane started, felt her cheeks flush. Just tired.

Youve had a busy few weeks preparing for tonight.

Yes, she agreed, grateful for his easy acceptance of her explanation. Still, she was embarrassed to admit, even to herself, that Stuarts absence had gone unnoticed until hed interrupted her dance with Joel. Shed been so preoccupied with the success of the charity ball she hadnt spared him a single thought.

And then shed met Joel Logan, and she hadnt thought about anything else.

She felt a twinge of guilt at the realization, but only a slight twinge. After all, she wasnt really engaged to Stuart Etherington III. Although theyd talked, in abstract terms, about marriage, she resented his reference to her as his fiance, as if their engagement was a fact rather than a possibility. But she wasnt in the mood to take issue with his vocabulary now. It had been a wonderfully successful evening and she wouldnt ruin it by bickering with him.

So she ignored the multitude of recriminations running through her mind and only said, You were late.

Im sorry. His apology was more automatic than sincere. I got tied up in meetings.

She wasnt surprised. Stuart had a successful corporate law practice and was often required to work long into the evening and frequently on weekends. She knew his hours would grow longer still when he launched the political career he wanted so much.

You missed dinner, she told him. Cream of artichoke soup, warm chicken salad with rosemary dressing, poached salmon with tarragon sauce, champagne sherbet and peppered strawberries.

That sounds much better than the Italian takeout I had delivered to the office.

Im sure it was, she agreed. But as long as you paid for your ticket, I wont complain about the squandered meal.

Youre a mercenary. There was admiration mingled with amusement in his tone.

This camp is important to me. And to the kids who visit every summer.

I know, Stuart placated. And, yes, I paid for my ticket.

She smiled. Then I thank you for your support.

Has it been a successful evening?

Very, she told him. Even more so than last year.

You have a knack for this sort of thing, Stuart told her.

Organizing, fund-raising, delegating. Valuable qualities in a politicians wife.

Rianes smile was strained. She resented Stuarts implication that tonights charity ball was an exercise in politics for her; she hated that he couldnt understand how much the camp mattered.

And yet, despite this fundamental difference of opinion, Riane believed that they were well suited for one another. They had similar goals and interests. Theyd both been raised in political families, and they both understood the expectations and responsibilities of living in the public eye.

She sometimes wondered if he was more attracted to her political connections than her person, but she could hardly judge him when her own motives were less than ideal. Ultimately she and Stuart wanted the same thing: the White House. He had the ideas and the connections to take him there, and when he did, Riane had no qualms about exploiting her position as his wife and first lady to focus attention on the plight of underprivileged children in this country and around the world.

Yes, her relationship with Stuart was exactly what she wanted. She just sometimes wished he made her feel

The thought fizzled. She didnt know what was missing; she only knew that she wanted to feel the way shed felt when Joel had held her in his arms.

She glanced toward the back of the room, searching, seeking.

But he was already gone.



Joel awoke the morning after the charity ball with the mother of all hangovers. He winced against the bright sunlight flooding through the window and cursed himself for not remembering to close the curtains the night before. Slowly he eased his legs over the side of the bed and found the floor. Satisfied that the world was once again solid beneath his feet, he scrubbed a hand over his cheek. It had been a lot of years since hed drunk himself into a stupor, but hed done it often enough in the past that he should have known better.

Women, he thought disparagingly. They were all the same. From his mother, whod abandoned him when he was six, to Jocelyn, whod dumped him with no hint of remorse when the going got tough, they werent to be trusted. It was a lesson he should have learned long ago.

Unfortunately, he was a man, and there were times that basic urges couldnt be denied. But sex and love were different things, and hed managed to avoid emotional entanglements for the most part. Since Jocelyn, anyway. He was smart enough and discerning enough to seek companionship from women who wanted the same thing he did: simple, uncomplicated sex.

Riane Quinlan had almost made him forget that. There was nothing simple about the way shed looked at him. Nothing simple about the feelings shed roused inside him.

He shook his head, then winced at the explosion of pain that resulted from the movement. Hed obviously been too long without a woman if he could be taken in by a pair of dark eyes.

Cursing Shaun McIver for ever asking him to take on this case, everyone with any connection to the name Rutherford, and Riane Quinlan in particular, he stumbled to the bathroom and turned on the faucet. He splashed cold water on his face, then filled a glass and fished a couple of aspirin out of the bottle.

He winced again when the shrill ring of his cell phone echoed in the empty room. He might have been tempted to ignore it, but he knew the only person who would be calling this early on a Sunday morning was his partner. And Mike would only be calling if he had information to share.

Logan.

I tracked Felicia Elliott to Flint, Michigan, Mike said without preamble. She was in a womens shelter there for a few months after she left her husband.

Have you spoken to her? Joel was less interested in the trail than he was in the results.

She moved out several weeks ago.

Where is she now?

The director of the shelter wouldnt give me that information.

Although Joel understood the reasons for such a policy, he was frustrated. Every time he started to make any headway in this case, yet another obstacle was thrown in his path.

Maybe I should go to Michigan, he suggested. He needed to wrap this case up and move on to something else. Somewhere else. Anywhere but West Virginia.

I wouldnt bother, Mike told him. I left our number with the woman at the shelter. She agreed to pass it along to Felicia Elliott if she hears from her again.

Joel knew it was the best they could hope for, which only frustrated him further. Do you have any new leads to follow?

I could get in touch with Gavin Elliott again, to see if hes remembered any other details that might be helpful.

Dont bother, Joel said, rubbing absently at the throbbing behind his temple. It looks like were just going to have to cool our heels on this one until we hear from Mrs. Elliott.

You havent made contact with the senator yet? Mike asked.

No, Joel admitted. Apparently shes in Thailand.

Thailand?

Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction, Joel agreed.

Do you know when shell be back?

Her daughter wasnt exactly forthcoming with the details.

Youve spoken to the daughter?

Unbidden, a series of images came to mind. Riane moving toward him. Long legs, short dress, easy smile. Riane in his arms on the dance floor. Creamy skin, subtle curves, intoxicating scent. Riane with her fianc.

Fianc.

None of the information Joel had gathered indicated that Riane Quinlan was engaged, and he was certain something like that would have been splashed across all the society pages. Still, hed recognized the man whod intruded on their dance. Stuart Etherington III, a corporate lawyer at one of the biggest firms in nearby Huntington and an up-and-comer on the local political scene with big ambitions. Apparently Senator Rutherford-Quinlans daughter was one of his ambitions.

Joel? Mikes voice intruded on his thoughts. Did you meet with the daughter?

Yeah, he said again.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, then, What was your impression?

Long legs, short dress Joel severed the thought abruptly this time. Id say theres more than a passing resemblance between the two women, he said instead. And too many other coincidences to ignore.

His years on the police force had taught him to be wary of coincidences, and the scandal that ended his career had given him more than enough reason to distrust anyone with the name Rutherford.

When Joel had first started to examine the potential Rutherford connection in this case, Mike had accused him of letting his personal quest for vengeance interfere with his professional judgment. Joel couldnt deny that his impartiality had been compromised, but regardless of his personal feelings, facts were facts. And all the facts in this case had led him to West Virginia.

I just cant believe that someone trying to pass off someone elses child as their own wouldnt at least change the name, Mike said.

The spelling is different, Joel pointed out.

So is the date of birth, Mike reminded him.

Do you really think Im looking for something that isnt there?

It would take quite a conspiracy to pull it off.

Or a lot of money, Joel countered.

There was a long pause, then Mike said, You know I have the greatest respect for your instincts, but I cant help thinking that your interest in this case is more about digging up dirt on the Rutherfords than finding the woman were looking for.

I know what my job is, Joel said coolly. But if he happened to find some dirt in the process of doing that job, he sure as hell wasnt going to wipe it off his hands and pretend it didnt exist.

Okay, Mike relented.

Joel sighed as he disconnected the call. It looked as if he was going to be stuck in West Virginia for a while after all.



West Virginia.

Hed known that hed find her. He hadnt expected it to be so easy. And he hadnt expected it to be in West Virginia.

He was a little disappointed. Hed wanted a challenge. A task worthy of his time and attention. She had rarely been either.

He should forget about her. He knew that was the smart thing to do. But he couldnt forgetor forgiveher betrayal.

She would pay for what shed done.

But that was only the first part of his plan.



Four days after the charity ball, Riane hadnt stopped thinking about Joel Logan. Even sitting across from Stuart at their usual table at the Casa, where they dined every Wednesday night, she couldnt help but think about the other man.

It was because of Joel that shed decided to shake up her relationship with Stuart a little. Maybe Stuart wasnt passionate with her, she reasoned, because she didnt inspire him to passion. So shed bypassed the dark blue Chanel suit in favor of a scarlet silk A-line dress shed bought several months earlier but hadnt yet found the courage to wear. The dress had a plunging neckline and a back slit that cut more than halfway up her thighs. It was bold, vibrant, daring. Everything she wasnt. Everything she wanted to be.

Stuart hadnt even commented on the dress except to say, as he always did, You look lovely, Riane.

Not stunning.

Not sexy.

Lovely.

Several hours later, as Stuart pulled through the gates of the Quinlan estate, Riane found herself exhausted and frustrated. Dinner had been delicious, the service impeccable, their conversation monotonous.

It was all she could do not to scream.

When they arrived at the house, Stuart parked his Mercedes in front and came around to open her door. Always the gentleman, she thought, with an unfamiliar hint of resentment.

He walked with her up to the front porch, then touched his lips to hers. She willed herself to feel something, anything, in response to his kiss. But there was no tingle, no warmth, no desire. Nothing.

And then it was over.

Good night, Riane.

Good night, Stuart. She held back the sigh until he was in his car again and driving away.

Sophie was waiting for Riane when she stepped into the marble-tiled foyer.

Good evening, Miss Quinlan.

The housekeepers presence, as much as the formality shed used, surprised Riane. I told you not to wait up, Sophie.

You have company, miss.

Company? Riane frowned.

A gentleman. Sophies eyes twinkled mischievously.

Rianes frown deepened.

Hes waiting in the den, Sophie told her.

Riane didnt want to deal with anyone else tonight. Her dinner with Stuart had been an exercise in monotony; his good-night kiss at the front door had left her uninspired. And she mentally damned Joel Logan for showing up at her charity ball and making her feel as though she was missing something.

All she wanted now was to slip into her favorite pair of satin pajamas and climb into bed. But she was a Quinlan, and the responsibilities she bore as such were equal to the rights and privileges. She squared her tired shoulders and turned toward the den.

The unnamed visitor was standing in front of the window, his back to the door. He didnt turn around; he didnt need to. Riane recognized him immediately. She wasnt sure if it was the breadth of his shoulders, the tension in his posture, or maybe just his aura. But she knew it was Joel, and her breath caught in her throat, her heart thudded heavily against her ribs.

She chided herself for the instinctive reaction. She was twenty-four years old, not a law school freshman enamored of the editor of the Law Review. But the feelings he stirred in her werent so different from those shed felt the first time shed set eyes on Cameron Davis. And the first time hed smiled at her, shed been halfway in love.

The mental comparison terrified Riane. She didnt want to have these feelings again. She didnt want her emotions to be out of control. She didnt want to be vulnerable.

That niggling fear bolstered her lagging resolve. She wasnt twenty years old anymoreshe was a woman. A strong, independent woman, and she could handle this man and her unexpected and inexplicable attraction to him.

Mr. Logan, she said, in what she hoped was a casually disinterested tone.

He turned slowly, and she realized then that hed been standing at the window watching for her. That hed seen her arrive. That, in all likelihood, hed seen Stuart kiss her good-night.

Good evening, Ms. Quinlan.

She didnt insist that he call her Riane this time. Shed already decided it would be best to keep this man at a distanceas far a distance as possible. He was too potentially dangerous to her peace of mind to allow him to encroach on her carefully ordered life.

How did you get in here? she demanded.

Your housekeeper, Sophie, let me in.

I didnt mean into the houseI meant through the security gates.

Sophie again, he told her.

Riane frowned. Shes not in the habit of opening the gates to strangers.

But Im not exactly a stranger, am I?

You are to Sophie.

I told her that wed met at the charity ball, and that I had something that belongs to you.

And do you?

He gestured to the wrap draped carelessly over the back of her fathers chair. The velvet wrap that shed belatedly realized shed left in the ballroom.

I didnt realize you worked in lost and found.

One side of his mouth kicked up in a half smile. Apparently I do.

Well, thank you for returning it.

Youre welcome.

But instead of moving toward the door, as she expected him to do, he leaned back against the corner of a bookcase and folded his arms over his chest. His pose was deliberately casual, his gaze leisurely as it skimmed over her. His self-confidence bordered on arrogance, the boldness of his stare almost insolent. It unnerved her, and aroused her.

You look Joel paused, his deep blue eyes filled with heat as he sought the appropriate word to complete his thought, stunning.

Stunning.

Riane felt her cheeks flush with guilty pleasure. Why did it matter what Joel Logan thought? Why did his reluctant compliment mean so much to her when Stuarts words had only annoyed her?

The answer came quickly, unbidden. Because Joel Logan made her feel like a womanfeminine, attractive, desirable. With Stuart she only ever felt like an accessorya suitable companion for any press conference or primary.

Uncomfortable with the comparison, with the feelings he stirred inside her, Riane refused to acknowledge the comment. Was there something else you wanted, Mr. Logan?

I expected at least a few minutes of small talk, maybe the offer of a drink.

Riane bit back another sigh, resenting that the manners so carefully ingrained since childhood demanded that she participate in such formalities. But shed managed to convince herself that Joel Logan had gone back to wherever hed come from, and his unexpected appearance herein her homedisconcerted her.

Forgive my lack of manners, Mr. Logan. Its been a very long day and I wasnt expecting company. She didnt care that her apology sounded more like an accusation. She would go through the motions, but that was all. Would you care for a drink?

He inclined his head slightly, watching her intently. She stood firm, unflinching beneath his steady gaze.

Ill have whatever youre having, he said at last.

She crossed over to the sideboard, removed the crystal stopper from the Waterford decanter and poured a generous amount of scotch into two highball glasses.

She passed one to him, careful that their fingers not brush in the transfer. She was determined to avoid any and all physical contact with him. Shed let him have his drink, find out what he wanted and send him on his way.

But Joel obviously had other plans, because he set his glass down on the shelf and brushed his fingers over her bare shoulder, down her arm, linking them loosely around her wrist. She felt the jolt of awareness reverberate through her system, sending tingles from the top of her head to the tips of her toes and all the erogenous zones in between. Still, she refused to let him see how he affected her, refused to let him know that her whole system went into overload when he touched her.

She looked at his hand on hers, raised a brow. Most of the men she knew would have taken the not-so-subtle hint and terminated the unwanted contact, but Joel either didnt understand her signal or simply refused to comply with it. She suspected it was the latter.

How long have you been engaged? he asked.

The abruptness of the question, as much as the hint of annoyance in his tone, startled her. The engagement isnt official yet, she told him, silently wondering if it ever would be.

No wedding date set?

No. She tugged out of his grasp and stepped away. She tipped her own glass to her lips and drank deeply, the scotch burning a fiery path down her throat that didnt compare to the heat on her arm where hed touched her.

He picked up his glass again and sipped. Nice scotch.

Riane downed the last of her drink, set the glass down with a snap. Did you come her to discuss my wedding plans, my fathers scotch, or was there something else you wanted?

Have I said or done something to upset you, Ms. Quinlan?

Yes, damn it. She wanted to scream the words at him, to let her anger and frustration spill over. Shed been perfectly happy until Joel Logan had come into her life. Okay, maybe that wasnt entirely true. But shed been content, for the most part, because she hadnt known what she was missing.

She still didnt know, but every time he looked at her, every time he touched her, he made her wonder.

Youre here, she said simply.

I was thinking if either one of us had a right to be annoyed, he said casually, it would be me.

Why?

Because a woman whos engaged to be married shouldnt look at another man the way you were looking at me Saturday night.

She dropped her gaze and moved to refill her glass. Ill apologize for the fact that you obviously misunderstood my intentions.

I didnt misunderstand anything, Joel said coolly.

Riane lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug, raised the glass. Joel was at her side before it touched her lips, his fingers wrapped around the wrist that held her drink.

Her first thought was that he moved fast.

Her second, he was dangerous.

Her next, she wanted him.

It was irrational, it was insane, but in that instant, she knew it was true. It wasnt the subtle tug of desire shed felt when shed danced with him at the ball. There was nothing subtle about this at all. It hit her with the force of a runaway freight train, uncontrollable, unstoppable, undeniable.




Chapter 3


Joel could read the emotions reflected in her eyes.

Surprise. Awareness. Desire.

She wanted him; he wanted her. The attraction between them was simple. Unfortunately, everything else about the situation was not.

Her lips curved slightly and he tightened his grip. He prided himself on having a great deal of control but right now, he was very close to losing it. That sexy little smile almost put him over the top.

Almost.

He dropped Rianes wrist abruptly, unaccountably angry with her for the desire her mere presence stoked inside him. Angrier with himself for not being strong enough to resist. He knew he should back away. Better yet, he should leavethis house, this state. But he stayed where he was, mesmerized by her presence.

Her lips curved again. They were glossy and red, the same tempting shade as her figure-hugging dress and those killer shoes. At the charity ball shed looked the part of a senators daughter. Elegant, sophisticated, untouchable. Tonight she didnt look like anybodys daughter. She was all hot, steamy sex appeal in a beckoning package. And if shed been his unofficial fiancenot that that would ever happenthere was no way in hell hed have said good-night at the door. But the proper Stuart Etherington III had, and his kiss hadnt even smudged Rianes lipstick.

Its late, Mr. Logan, and Im too tired for games. So why dont you cut to the chase and tell me why youre here?

It was a valid question, but hed forgotten all the reasons hed contrived for his visit the minute hed seen her get out of the car. Something about getting answers, he recalled vaguely. Hed decided that the senators absence didnt have to be a complete roadblock to his investigation, it only required a slight detour. And spending some time with Riane might prove to be a very pleasurable side trip.

But face-to-face with her now, he felt a little uneasy about his agenda. He didnt want to be with Riane under false pretenses; he genuinely wanted to be with her. He wanted to know the woman behind the facade. He wanted to take his time and explore the attraction between them.

But his wants and desires were irrelevant here. His sole purpose for being in West Virginia was to finish the job hed been hired to do. It was best to remember that, and to remember that a woman like Riane Quinlan was out of his league.

It looks like Im going to be in town a while, he said, and I thought we could spend some time together while Im here.

Why?

He shrugged. I dont really know anyone else.

Her soft, smoky laugh went straight to his loins, making him again question the wisdom of the course hed decided to pursue.

Thats the most unique, if not the most appealing, invitation Ive ever received, she told him.

Is that a yes?

She shook her head. I dont think so.

Joel nodded, as if her response was what hed expected. Your fianc probably wouldnt approve.

Stuarts not my fianc, Riane said again. And he doesnt dictate how I spend my time.

Then theres no reason why you cant show me around.

Except that I dont want to. Im a busy woman, Mr. Logan.

Im sure you are, Joel agreed easily. I just thought you might enjoy the opportunity to show an outsider the beauty and bounty of your home state.

There are all kinds of tours you can take if you want to see the sights. You dont need my help for that.

I was hoping for a more authentic experience.

She smiled again. Authentic?

There was something in the mischievous curve of her lips that set off warning bells, something in the gleam of those dark brown eyes that hinted at a secret agenda. Maybe he should back off, reconsider his plan. But hed never been one to back down from a challenge.

Id like to do whatever native West Virginians would do if they had a few days to play.

She studied him for a long moment, considering. What is it that you really want from me?

Was she innately suspicious, or had his powers of persuasion been affected by his frustration with this assignment?

Determined to try harder, he smiled. Just the pleasure of your company.

She raised an eyebrow.

Youre a beautiful woman, Riane. Intelligent, charmingwhen you want to be. Why do you find it so hard to believe that I want to spend time with you?

Most people who seek out my company are more interested in my political connections than sharing conversation, she said candidly.

Including your fianc?

Her eyes narrowed, and her voice, when she responded, could have frosted the windows. My relationship with Stuart is none of your business.

Did I hit a nerve?

Not at all, she denied in the same icy tone.

Im sorry, he said. And he was. Although he was curious about her relationship with the other man, he was sorry hed put that guarded look in her eye.

Riane shrugged stiffly.

Id appreciate it if you could find some time to show me the sights.

Im going to be at the camp all day tomorrow.

What about Friday, then?

She hesitated.

Please.

Sighed. All right. Where are you staying?

At the Courtland Hotel, downtown.

Ill pick you up at ten oclock. Wear something comfortable, casual.

Are you going to tell me where were going?

Im going to show you some of West Virginias most impressive sights, she promised.



But Joel didnt wait until Friday to see her again.

He awoke in the morning determined to move on with his investigation. After all, that was his reason for being in West Virginia, and he was certain there must be other avenues to explore, other possibilities to examine.

According to the travel agent hed consulted, the only cruise ship currently near Thailand had sailed out of Hong Kong nine days earlier and wouldnt complete its journey until it reached Singapore in another six days. Which meant that he had six more days to waitseven, if the senator and her husband stayed an extra night in Singapore. Surely, he could occupy himself for that amount of time.

Yet when he left the hotel late that morning, he found himself stopping at the front desk for directions to the Quinlan Campjust in case. When he found himself following those directions, he told himself it was simple curiosity. When he pulled through the wrought iron gates, he figured she probably wasnt even there.

There were several cars parked outside a long, low building built of hand-hewn logs. Colorful blooms spilled out of the large clay pots that flanked either side of the wooden stairs.

Joel parked his dusty Explorer beside a shiny red pickup truck and got out to stretch his legs. It was still early in the day, and the breeze was cool, the air crisp and clean and scented with the tangy perfume of cedar from the surrounding woods. Having grown up in the city, he wouldnt consider himself a nature lover, but he couldnt deny the appeal of this place.

He followed the flagstone path to the wide porch that spanned the length of the building. There were three doors at evenly spaced intervals, the one on the far end slightly ajar. He made his way in that direction, and his heart did a slow roll in his chest as he heard Rianes voice coming from inside.

He paused with his hand against the heavy wood. The rational part of his brain reminded him that he shouldnt be here. There was nothing to be gained by pursuing the attraction between them.

Okay, maybe he was hoping that she could give him some of the answers he needed. And he hadnt completely disregarded the possibility that she was the answer he was seeking. But he wasnt entirely comfortable using her in such a subversive manner. He was even less comfortable with the feelings that were churning inside him. Feelings that had nothing to do with his reasons for coming to West Virginia and everything to do with the woman who was Riane Quinlan.

There was a pause in the conversation, and he realized that she was on the phone. Then she laughed, and he felt that quick punch of arousal in response.

He should get back in his truck and go.

He pushed open the door.

Riane glanced up, her eyes widening. First with surprise, then pleasurejust a quick, almost imperceptible glimpse of it, immediately supplanted by annoyance. She frowned.

Someone just came in. Can you call me back later, Adam?

Adam? Just how many men was Riane juggling in her life? And why was he willing to stand in line to be yet one more?

She nodded and doodled on the legal pad on her desk as she finished up her call. He took a moment to scan the roomutilitarian furnishings, unadorned walls, a few potted plants. It was safer than looking at Riane, at the loose-flowing tresses that framed her delicate features, at the soft pink lips that curved slightly in response to something he couldnt hear, at the close-fitting sweater that seemed to mold to her breasts

He tore his gaze away.

Ill talk to you later, then, she agreed.

She hung up the phone, then tilted her head to look up at him again.

Mr. Logan. It was more of a question than a greeting.

Without waiting for an invitation he knew wouldnt be forthcoming, Joel folded his frame into one of the hard plastic chairs facing her. Riane picked up the mug of coffee on her desk, took a sip and grimaced.

Do you want to take a break? he asked. We could go somewhere to get a hot cup of coffee.

She set the mug back down. Why dont you tell me why youre really here?

I wanted to see you.

When she looked at him again, her deep brown eyes were wary.

I didnt plan on coming here today, he admitted. But I was lying alone in my bed last night, thinking about you. Then I woke up this morning thinking about you. And here I am.

Im not going to be a distraction for you while youre in town, she said.

I just want to spend some time with you.

I agreed to show you around tomorrow.

I was bored today.

Riane sighed, shaking her head as she pushed her chair back from the desk and stood up. Come on, she said. Ill give you a tour of the camp.

It wasnt quite what he wanted from her, but he figured it was a start. So he walked around the grounds with her, listening as she explained the function of the camp, the program, her plans for expansion. She had such passion for the project, such focused enthusiasm. It was obvious the camp meant a lot to her, more than hed realized during their brief discussion at the charity ball.

This will be our fourth season, Riane said proudly.

And two of the counselors weve hired for this summer were campers here our first year.

You must be very proud of what youve accomplished.

For the most part, she agreed. But there are still too many kids turned away each year simply because of the limited size of our facility.

And thats why youre expanding? he guessed.

We have the space, Riane told him. And, thanks to increased contributions this year, we have the funds. By the start of next season, well have six new cabins, each one designed to sleep five campers and a counselor.

How many buildings do you have now?

Twelve cabins, a mess hall, an arts and crafts center, she gestured as she explained, and the stables.

Stables?

She nodded and set off toward a fenced paddock hed passed on the drive in. We have half a dozen horses the children are taught to care for and ride.

How many people work here?

In addition to the counselors, who are mostly volunteers, theres a registered nurse and child psychologist on staff. Plus Jared, our horse trainer, year-round groundskeeper, camp supervisor and chef.

Chef?

Someone has to feed the kids.

How many kids? Joel wondered aloud.

We have sixty kids for each of four two-week sessions.

Thats a lot of macaroni and cheese.

Jared does better than that, Riane assured him.

They stopped at the fence that bordered the paddock, leaning against the rails to watch the horses grazing.

Have I bored you to death yet with all this stuff?

Joel shook his head. I think its a wonderful thing youre doing.

Even with the expansion, it wont be enough. Were considering weekend programs in the spring and fall in addition to the summer camp. In the not-too-distant future, Id like to open another sitemaybe in Virginia or Pennsylvania. Somewhere close by, so I can stay involved with both.

She sighed again, a heartfelt expression of frustration and futility. Lets talk about something else, she suggested.

Like what?

You.

He studied the pair of sleek, chestnut horses grazing contentedly in the paddock. Im not very interesting.

Riane clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth in a sound of disapproval. Thats hardly the kind of statement to impress a woman, she chided.

Joel couldnt help but laugh. What should I say?

She shook her head. I would have thought a guy like you would have figured that out by now.

And I would think that a woman like you wouldnt be swayed by mere words.

She smiled now, and the curve of those soft, tempting lips did strange things to his heart again.

Youre right, she admitted.

Unable to resist, he reached out and skimmed the pad of his finger over her bottom lip. He heard her breath catch, watched her lips part slightly in response to his touch. When he looked up at her again, her eyes were wide.

What would sway you, Riane?



She swallowed, her scrambled brain desperately searching for coherent words to respond to his question. She had to say something, anything, to get him to back off. Anything but the truth. Because the truth was that all it would take to sway her was his touch. He hadnt even kissed her; hed just brushed his finger over the curve of her lip and her insides had melted.

Shed experienced attraction before but never like this. The jolt of desire, so quick and unexpected, completely debilitated her.

He skimmed his knuckles over her cheek, threaded his fingers into her hair and tilted her head back. She forced herself to meet his gaze, then wished she hadnt done so. Tightly restrained passion simmered in the depths of his blue eyes. A challenge. A promise.

What would sway you? he asked again.

She swept her tongue along her bottom lip, unconsciously following the same path as his fingertip.

Maybe you wouldnt be swayed at all, he murmured, his gaze fixed on her mouth again. Maybe it would have to be your decision.

Yes, she agreed breathlessly. Yes, it would be her decision. And yes, she wanted him.

Youre a strong woman, he continued, the low tone of his voice as hypnotic as the desire in his eyes. Capable. Confident. Passionate.

Her heart melted just a little. No one had ever called her passionate before. No one had ever made her feel so passionate.

And complicated, he finished, almost reluctantly, before combing his fingers through the ends of her hair and dropping his hand back to his side. I dont have time for complications.

The desire hed so effectively stirred up inside of her gave way to hurt and disappointment. She shoved those unwelcome emotions aside in favor of anger.

What are you looking for, Logan, a quick tumble to satisfy your basic urges?

I wasnt looking for someone like you, he admitted.

Then what are you doing here?

He looked around, and seemed almost surprised by the setting. I dont know, he said at last.

I didnt ask you to come here.

I know, he admitted. And I thought I could stay away. But I cant. Youve got me all tied up in knots and I dont know what to do about it.

As far as poetry went, it was somewhat lacking, and yet his words touched something inside her. Or maybe it wasnt the words so much as the frustration evident in his voice. He didnt want to want her, but he did. The realization soothed her bruised pride, empowered her fragile heart.

Im sorry, he said abruptly. Why dont we just forget about that little outburst and start over?

Sure, Riane agreed, wishing it would be half as easy to forget the unwelcome feelings hed stirred inside her. She folded her arms against the wooden fence. Tell me something about yourself.

What do you want to know?

Everything. She wanted to know everything there was to know about Joel Logan, especially what it was about him that had her so enthralled. Through her charity work and her parents political connections, shed had occasion to dine with millionaires, dance with movie stars, discuss international relations with heads of state. Shed never been flustered by the mere presence of a manuntil Joel had shown up at her ball.

But that was hardly an admission she was willing to make, so she opted to start with something more simple. Where did you grow up?

He seemed surprised by her question, almost relieved. Philadelphia.

Is that where you live now?

He shook his head. No. I moved to Fairweather, Pennsylvania, a few years back.

Is that where your family is?

I dont know that I have any family left.

What do you meanyou dont know?

I havent seen my mother since I was six years old. She left me with my grandmother and took off for parts unknown. My grandmother died five years later.

Oh, she said, feeling unaccountably saddened on his behalf. Her mother often teased that the kids who came to her camp were her surrogate siblingsthe brothers and sisters she never had. Riane couldnt deny that there was probably some truth to that. But if she felt there was something missing from her life, she also knew how fortunate she was to have always had the unquestioning love and support of her parents. She couldnt imagine what it would be like to be well and truly alone.

What about your father? she asked.

I have no idea who my father is.

You never knew him?

I dont know if my mother knew him, he said dryly.

Her brow furrowed; Joel laughed.

Not everyone has had the life youve had, he said.

Riane felt her back go up. Whats that supposed to mean?

You were raised in a perfect little family, in a cozy mansion on the hill. Between your private school education and ballet lessons and horseback riding, you probably never imagined that there were kids who went to bed hungry at nightor kids who had no bed to go to.

Rianes eyes narrowed on him. Do you think I dont realize how lucky Ive been? I may gave grown up in a home of wealth and privilege, and Im grateful that Ive never had to worry about my next meal, but Im not oblivious to what goes on in the rest of the world.

My parents were in the Foreign Service when I was born. We lived in various places in Central America, Eastern Europe, Africa. It was an incredible opportunity, and it was incredibly disheartening at times. I saw things most people dont want to hear about.

I went to visit orphanages with my motherdirty, overcrowded, unsanitary buildings where most of the children werent just orphans but were sick or dying. There was one little girl Even after so many years, her throat tightened at the memory. She was about three years old, but she weighed no more than fifteen pounds. She wasnt just malnourished, she had AIDS. Both of her parents had died of AIDS a few months earlier, her older sister only days before I met her.

There was something about her, this child more so than any other Id seen, that tore at my heart. Maybe it was the way she so simply and quietly accepted her fate. Knowing it was only a matter of time before she died.

For almost three weeks, I went to that orphanage every dayto see her, to read stories to her. She loved fairy tales. As she listened, shed smile and get this faraway look in her eyes, as if she was imagining herself inside the storya life so much better than the one she was living.

So dont you dare compare my life to yours and say I dont understand. Why dont you stop feeling sorry for yourself for five minutes and compare your life to hers?

Riane was out of breath by the time she finished, and a little ashamed by her impassioned outburst. It wasnt like her to go off so easily. She was used to people making judgments about her, treating her commitment to the underprivileged like a hobby or, worse, a stage she would outgrow.

Even Stuart had once suggested that she was too involved with the kids, that she needed to detach herself from their problems. Hed only said it once.

Still, Joel couldnt have known the depth of her feelings, and she shouldnt have taken her annoyance out on him.

Youre right, he said at last. Im sorry.

Forget it. She was more embarrassed than angry now.

I guess Ive spent so much time being bitter and resentful about my childhood that I never considered the others who were less fortunate. My grandmother might have bitched and grumbled every time she put a plate in front of me, but she never let me starve.

She felt his hand on her arm, his touch gentle but firm, forcing her attention back to him. The little girl in the orphanage, is she the reason you have the camp?

Riane nodded. She died just a few weeks after we got there. That was when I resolved to do something to help children like her.

How old were you? he asked.

She looked away again. Twelve.

Thats a hell of a commitment for a twelve-year-old to make.

Its a hell of a way for a three-year-old child to die, she replied sadly. Then she shook her head, shook off the melancholy mood that had stolen over the moment.

We were talking about your childhood, Riane reminded him.

I think you got the gist of it.

Do you have any brothers or sisters?

He shook his head. I had a sister. She was a few years older than me, took off on her own when she was fifteen and died on the street of a drug overdose less than a year later.

Im sorry, she said, meaning it. As an only child, she couldnt imagine what it was like to grow up with someone, to lose that someone, to be left alone to remember. For so many years shed wished for a sisterwould willingly have settled for a brotherbut her parents hadnt been able to have any more children. Riane knew it had to be easier to have never had a sibling than to have shared such a connection and have it ripped away.

He shrugged. It was a long time ago.

You were close, she guessed.

At one time. Then, in a not-so-subtle effort to change the topic, Will you have dinner with me tonight?

Riane shook her head. Shed agreed to play tour guide for him to prove that she was her own personand to prove to herself that she was immune to whatever chemistry she thought existed between them. Her reaction to his unexpected appearance at the camp today proved otherwise. She wasnt immune at all.

Shed never believed in chemistry or destiny or any other such nonsense. But the more time she spent with Joel, the more she found herself questioning her beliefs. Rational or notand she was pretty sure it was notshe was attracted to Joel Logan. Which was why she was determined to keep her distance from him as much as possible. She may have already committed herself to showing him around the following day, but that was going to be the extent of her involvement.

Do you have other plans for dinner? Joels question interrupted her meandering thoughts.

Yes.

With the fianc? Joel prompted.

No.

Joel didnt take the hint. What are you doing?

Not that its any of your business, Riane said, but I told Sophie Id be home to eat.

Whats she making?

Pot roast.

Sounds better than anything room service has to offer, Joel said hopefully.

Im not inviting you to my house for dinner. Although there was a part of her that wanted to do just that. She was intrigued by this man whod appeared in her life seemingly from nowhere. She wanted to spend time with him, to get to know him. All she really knew was that he was a former cop who lived in Fairweather, Pennsylvania. These sparse details didnt begin to satisfy her curiosity.

Despite her curiosity, though, she was afraid. Not of Joel, but of her own responses to him. And it was this fear that held her back.

Please.

She sighed again. Although she knew it could be dangerous to spend more time with him, they wouldnt be alone together. Sophie would be there.

So she relented, not entirely unwillingly, to his request. Dinner will be on the table at seven oclock.




Chapter 4


At precisely seven oclock, Riane found herself seated across from Joel at the gleaming mahogany table in the Quinlan dining room. On her way home from the camp, shed called Sophie to tell her Joel would be coming for dinner, and Sophie had set the table with the best china, sparkling crystal and gleaming silver. As if that wasnt enough, shed added long, slender candles in antique holders and opened a bottle of Rianes favorite merlot.

It was obvious, at least to Riane, that Sophie was setting the scene for romance. But Riane wasnt looking for romancenot with anyone, and especially not with Joel Logan.

Still, that wasnt the worst of the housekeepers betrayal. Worse, far worse, in Rianes mind, was that Sophie had set the table for two. Sophie usually took her meals with the family, but tonight shed begged off, leaving Riane to dine alone with Joelthe exact scenario Riane had been confident she could avoid by inviting him to the house.

That was the best pot roast Ive ever had, Joel told Sophie when she came to take their empty plates away.

Sophie beamed at him as though he was a favorite child. Are you sure I cant offer you another helping?

Im sure, Joel said. Ive already had seconds.

Then Ill leave the two of you to finish up your wine before I bring out dessert, Sophie said, slipping out of the room as quickly and quietly as shed slipped in.

Im glad you invited me for dinner, Joel said to Riane.

You invited yourself, she reminded him.

And you very graciously didnt withdraw the invitation.

Riane felt a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. They both knew there had been nothing gracious about her response.

Dont do that, Joel warned.

The blossoming smile faded. Dont do what?

Smile. If you do, you might have to admit that you dont detest my company as much as you want to, sweetheart.

If I really disliked your company, I wouldnt be in it.

But youre not entirely comfortable with me, he noted.

Why is that?

She sighed and pushed away from the table. He stood, too, and followed her to the enormous arched window that overlooked the backyard.

Because I dont know anything about you. Every time I ask a question about what you do or why youre in town, you evade or mislead or redirect the conversation. For all I know, you could be a tabloid reporter or a con man or

A private investigator, he interjected.

What?

Im a private investigator.

Oh. She took a minute to absorb that tidbit of information. Why are you in Mapleview?

He hesitated.

Are you going to evade, mislead or redirect this time?

He smiled, and Riane felt her heart skip a beat.

Im thinking about how to answer without revealing any confidential information.

She took a sip of wine, waiting.

Im looking for someone, he said at last. A potential witness to a case Im working on.

Oh, she said again. Why couldnt you tell me that the other night?

His lips curved again and his eyes were dark, intense as they pinned her with a look that caused her blood to heat. I wasnt thinking about business when I was with you.

It was a smooth response, and evasive. Again. She shook her head. It shouldnt matter. It didnt matter. Joel Logan was none of her concern. As soon as he finished whatever business had brought him to town, he would be gone, out of her life forever. Except that she couldnt shake the uneasy feeling that his business would somehow affect her.

Why were you at the charity ball?

His hesitation seemed answer enough.

Youre looking for someone I know.

Im following a lead, he admitted.

Is it someone whos involved with my camp? She sent up a silent but fervent prayer that the answer would be no. She couldnt bear to think of anything negative impacting her camp and the children who so desperately needed it.

It has nothing to do with your camp, Joel assured her.

Riane wanted to believe him, but

I promise. He interrupted her thoughts with his softly spoken vow. I know I should have told you, but my interest in you seems to have taken precedence over the case Im working on.

I thought your interest in me was solely as your tour guide.

I lied, he said easily.

Riane lifted an eyebrow.

Would you have agreed to spend tomorrow with me if Id admitted I had designs on your body?

I can still change my mind.

You wont. Youre not the type of woman who would consciously break a promise. Now youll just have to take your chances with me.

I thought it was a violation of your personal code to move in on a woman who is otherwise involved.

It is, he agreed. But youve convinced me that you and Stuart arent engaged.

Not officially.

Make up your mind, Riane. He took a step closer, and she took an instinctive step back. It was only when she felt the heavy velvet curtains behind her that she realized shed been retreating. She forced herself to stand her ground; she wouldnt let him intimidate her.

You cant use your relationship as a shield when it suits your purpose, Joel said, the low timbre of his voice sliding over her like a caress. Are you engagedor not?

Her throat was dry, her heart pounding. Unconsciously she swept her tongue along her bottom lip to moisten it. His gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered.

No, she admitted breathlessly.

He leaned closer, and when he spoke again she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. Then I dont have to worry about violating my personal code, do I?

She didnt know what to say, how to extricate herself from the situation. She only knew that it was what she had to do. What she really wanted to do, however, was to breach the few scant inches that separated them and touch her lips to his. She wanted to

I have cheesecake, Sophie said, returning with two dessert plates in hand and effectively cutting off Rianes building fantasy in midstride. And fresh strawberry sauce.

Joel stepped back, and Riane exhaled slowly. She should be relieved by Sophies interruption, but she was unaccountably disappointed instead.

Mr. Logan was just saying that he has to get back to his hotel, Riane said.

Im sure I have time for cheesecake, Joel countered.

Riane glared at him; Joel grinned.

And in that moment, Riane knew that he knew exactly how his almost-kiss had affected her, how much shed wanted to experience the touch of his mouth against hers.

Good, Sophie said, apparently oblivious to the under-currents passing between Riane and Joel. Ill bring in coffee for you to have with your dessert.



Riane couldnt sleep, and she knew without a doubt that Joel Logan was responsible for her sudden bout of insomnia. Just as she knew it had been a mistake to invite him to come for dinnereven if it had been his suggestion rather than her own. It had been an even bigger mistake to agree to see him tomorrow.

She had so many other things she should be doingobligations and responsibilities. She didnt have time to play tour guide for some bored, out-of-town P.I. And she wasnt sure she had the willpower to continue to resist the desire inside her.

With a groan of frustration, Riane pushed back the covers and commenced pacing the length of her bedroom. Pacing helped her to think, to get her thoughts in line and clear out her brain. But she knew, on some basic level, that it wasnt her brain that was the problem. It was her heart.

She groaned again, annoyed with herself for such fanciful notions. Whatever was wrong with her had more to do with her hormones than her heart. Hormones that had been stirred by Joel Logans mere proximity and that continued to churn restlessly.

She sank down on the edge of her four-poster bed. Why was she so attracted to a man who was so obviously wrong for her? Was there something innately masochistic about her that she was destined to fall for men who could only break her heart?

She pushed herself to her feet again and resumed pacing. She didnt believe in destiny, and she was not going to fall for Joel Logan. She couldnt deny that she was attracted to himwhat living, breathing, heterosexual woman wouldnt be? But feeling an attraction and acting upon it were completely different things. And Riane had no intention of acting upon this insane attraction.

Besides, she was involved with Stuart. Stuart was a good mansolid, stable, dependable. After her disastrous relationship with Cameron Davis, that was all she wanted.

Then why, a nagging voice from deep in her subconscious wondered, was she feeling so unsettled? And why was she pacing the floor of her bedroom at 3:00 a.m.?

Unable to answer either of these questions, Riane found herself reaching above her dressing table and plucking a toy from the shelf. Her action may have seemed random, but the doll she instinctively sought out was the one shed called Eden for as long as she could remember. The one shed always found gave her a measure of peace and comfort when nothing else could.

She couldnt recall when shed started her collection, and she had dolls from various countries around the world, but Eden had always been her favorite. She smiled wryly in the darkness, embarrassed to admiteven to herselfthat she still found solace in the tattered old doll.

She turned back toward the bed as a soft knock sounded at the door, immediately contrite that her nocturnal wandering had awakened the housekeeper. Come in, Sophie.

The door pushed open, light spilling into Rianes bedroom from the hallway. The housekeeper followed, an elegant gold-rimmed cup in her hand.

Youre restless tonight, Sophie commented, offering the drink.

Riane set Eden down on her pillow and cradled the delicate china between her palms. She raised the cup and inhaled the sweet scent of chocolate. Sophie had played a key role in Rianes upbringing. She understood Rianes moods and needs, and she knew there was nothing that worked better than chocolate when she was feeling unsettled.

I didnt mean to wake you, Riane said. Please, go back to bed.

You didnt wake me, Sophie told her, picking up the doll Riane had set aside. She smoothed back the tangled hair, straightened the faded skirt of her dress. Riane hid a smile behind the cup as she sipped. It was Sophies nature to want to fix and soothe, even when it wasnt always possible.

Do you want to talk about it? Sophie asked.

Riane wasnt sure she could talk about feelings she didnt understand. She was an intelligent, educated woman, yet the intensity of her reaction to Joel Logan continued to baffle her. I dont know.

Its Mr. Logan, Sophie guessed.

It isnt always about a man, Riane chided, trying to deflect Sophies focus.

It is when youre pacing in your bedroom at 3:00 a.m.

Riane frowned. Being up in the middle of the night wasnt usual for her. Ive never been up pacing at this hour.

Sophies smile was smug. Exactly.

Sophie, you know that Im going to marry Stuart.

I know that you think youre going to marry Stuart.

Riane took another sip of hot chocolate. I thought you liked Stuart.

I like him well enough for a politician.

Sophie. Such a statement was almost sacrilege in the Quinlan household, but Riane grinned.

Hes not right for you, Sophie insisted.

Hed make a good husband, Riane said loyally, wondering why she sounded unconvincing even to her own ears.

You need someone who can put a sparkle in your eye, a flush in your cheek.

This is reality, Riane said dryly. Not a fairy tale.

The flush in your cheeks was real enough when Mr. Logan was here.

And just the memory of the almost-kiss Sophie had interrupted caused Rianes cheeks to flush with color again. She hid behind the heirloom cup, sipped the hot drink.

Ive seen the way he looks at you and the way you look at him, Sophie told her. Theres chemistry there.

I never was any good at science, Riane said lightly.

You can joke about it, but you cant deny it.

Riane sighed. OkayIm attracted to him.

And that scares you, Sophie guessed.

I havent felt this way since I met Cameron Davis in my first year of law school. It was the only time shed allowed her hormones to overrule her head, and the results had very nearly been disastrous. She refused to make the same mistake again.

You wont ever be happy if you dont follow your heart.

Im happy with Stuart, Riane told her, but even to her own ears she didnt sound very convincing.

Sophie snorted. Then why havent you told Mr. Logan to stop coming around?

I did.

And then you invited him for dinner.

He invited himself, Riane felt compelled to point out.

He wouldnt have been here if you didnt want him to be.

Hes very persistent.

Sophie chuckled.

All right, Riane admitted. And maybe I enjoy his company.

Maybe?

Riane shrugged, unwilling to make any further admission. Unable to express feelings she didnt understand. The initial attraction had been purely physical. Shed spotted Joel Logan from across the room at the charity ball and had immediately been intrigued. But it was more than that. There was something about him that tugged at hersomething even stronger than the self-protective instinct that warned her away.

She finished the creamy chocolate drink in one long swallow, then feigned a yawn. I can probably sleep now.

All right, then, Sophie relented, taking the cup from Riane and exchanging it for the doll she still held in her arms.

Thank you, Sophie. Rianes comment referred to both the hot chocolate and the understanding.

Sophie nodded and kissed her cheek. Sweet dreams.

But when Riane finally fell asleep with her doll in her arms, she dreamed of a little girl crying.



Joel was waiting in front of the Courtland Hotel at precisely ten oclock Friday morning when Riane pulled up in her snazzy little BMW coupe. It was a gorgeous car, and as he slid into the passenger seat of the vehicle, he noticed the driver was gorgeous, too.

She was wearing a red scoop-necked T-shirt and softly faded jeans. Her hair was tied away from her face today, and he itched to loosen the band around the end of the braid and sift his fingers through the silky tresses.

He heard her speak but had been too preoccupied with his little fantasy to decipher the words.

Did you say something? he asked, buckling his seat belt.

She gave him a strange look, then glanced down at his feet. I asked if those were sturdy shoes?

Joel looked down at the loafers hed donned with khakis and a golf shirt. As long as you dont intend to take me rock climbing, I think theyre adequate.

All right. She pulled away from the curb, merging smoothly into the flow of traffic.

Were not going rock climbing, are we? he prompted.

No, were not going rock climbing.

He waited a beat, but she offered no additional information. Where are we going?

Caving.

Oh. It seemed harmless enough, if he could forget that he hated close, dark spaces. If he could forget about the day hed been lured into Conroys deserted warehouse and trapped for hours with the dank smell and fetid rats.

He rubbed a hand over the scar on his abdomen and tried to relegate the memories and frustrations to a back corner of his mind. There was no point in thinking about any of that now, nothing to be gained by recalling the sense of futility that had plagued him for so long.

Instead, he concentrated on the scenery as Riane drove toward Charlottes Corridor.

So named, she explained, because the man who discovered the underground caverns, David Charlotte, couldnt believe that such an elaborate system of interconnecting tunnels was a naturally occurring phenomenon. He believed they had to be a corridor to some kind of underground civilization.

Riane pulled into a gravel parking lot. He passed away before anyone could disprove his theory, and the caves have been known as Charlottes Corridor ever since.

There were several other vehicles already in the lot, a few people wandering around. There were picnic tables in a shaded area at the far end of the parking lot along with a simple square building that advertised tourist information and public rest rooms. What he didnt see was a ticket booth or concession stand or any other inherent signs of what a city dweller would consider civilization. His sense of apprehension magnified.

These caves have almost twenty-five miles of mapped passages, Riane told him, pulling a canvas backpack out of the trunk. Its one of the more elaborate systems in this part of West Virginia.

He had no idea whether he should be impressed or not. He couldnt imagine that theyd be expected to walk twenty-five milesthat would take days.

Riane took a long-handled flashlight out of the bag, flicked the switch, then tucked a spare package of batteries into the back pocket of her jeans.

Wheres the rest of the group? he asked, following her to the mouth of the cave.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, frowned. What group?

Uh-oh. Isnt this a tour?

She shook her head. I thought you wanted to experience West Virginia like a native.

He wasnt entirely comfortable with the note of challenge in her voice. Less so facing the huge, black hole in the wall of rock in front of him. Ive reconsidered, he muttered.

She laughed, and his irrational fear receded. He would walk naked through all twenty-five miles of cave to hear that sound again. She had such an incredible laugh. Low and smoky, unconsciously seductive.

Dont be such a wimp, Logan. The only way to see the caves properly is to explore them on your own.

Joel plunged into the mouth of the cave behind her. There was no way he was going to let her call him a wimp.

Still, he was unprepared for the sudden and complete darkness. It descended thick and fast, obliterating everything else. Riane had a flashlight but he didnt, and the fragile beam from her light dispersed quickly in the large passageway. He could see nothing but dark, feel nothing but damp, and his breath started to come in short, shallow bursts as the horror of that day in the warehouse ambushed him again.

Focus, Logan. He closed his eyes, inhaled a deep breath. The air was cool and moist, but not foul. He opened his eyes again, took a tentative step forward.

I think Id like to try a museum tomorrow, he said.

Riane laughed again. He let the sound envelop him, blocking out the awful memories. There was no one here but Riane and him. The reminder was not only reassuring, it was inspiring. He was alone in the dark with a beautiful woman. Maybe this outing had some potential after all.

It only took a couple of twists and turns for him to realize that Riane was a veteran of caving. She moved easily through the winding chambers while he stumbled along, trying not to think about the fact that he had absolutely no idea of where he was goingor where the men with the guns were hiding.

Maybe we should have taken one of the guided tours, Joel commented from somewhere behind her, cursing under his breath as he tripped over yet another unseen obstacle protruding from the ground.

She reached behind her to take his hand, and he happily linked his fingers through hers.

Riane continued to move ahead, unhampered by the close confines, navigating the narrow corridors and tight corners without difficulty. Of course, she was the one with the flashlight.

He had no idea how long theyd been inside the maze of tunnels when she stopped abruptly. Joel bumped into the back of her, mumbling a quick apology as he stepped back again.

Whats the matter? he asked.

Dead end, she said, turning to face him.

Were lost? He hated the note of panic in his voice, hoped she didnt recognize it as such.

No, were not lost, she chided. We just have to follow this corridor back the way we came and turn around. All the tunnels are interconnected, like a maze. They twist and turn in all directions. A few are dead ends, but eventually they all lead back to the amphitheater.

Amphitheater?

The big chamber that we started out from.

Oh. It seemed simple, and she sounded confident enough that his uneasiness abated.

Then she moved forward, as if to step past him, and the side of her breast brushed against his arm. The current of awareness jolted him, and he heard her sharp intake of breath. Obviously, he hadnt been the only one affected.

We have to follow this, um, corridor back, she said again.




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Some Kind of Hero Brenda Harlen
Some Kind of Hero
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Brenda Harlen

Тип: электронная книга

Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература

Язык: на английском языке

Издательство: HarperCollins

Дата публикации: 16.04.2024

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О книге: SHE HADN′T KNOWN SHE′D BEEN MISSING….He had cop written over every inch of his tempting body, and beautiful senator′s daughter Riane Rutherford-Quinlan knew from the moment he asked her to dance that he wasn′t the type to attend charity balls. He was there for a reason. He was searching for something – or someone.UNTIL HE FOUND HER.Ex-cop turned private investigator Joel Logan had been hired to find a child illegally adopted over twenty years ago. A child, now a woman, who had no idea she′d been living a lie. Could Joel tell her the truth without destroying her secure world? Or would his own desire for Riane lead to a mistake that could cost her life – and his heart?

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