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Undercover Fiance
Sheryl Lynn


AN EXCEPTIONAL DETECTIVE…AN EXPERT LOVERDaniel Tucker was all man and a threat to the sinister stalker closing in on Janine Duke. Daniel insisted on posing as Janine's fiancé to draw out the madman. A role he relished with Janine as his woman.Daniel was the only one willing to help her, though his methods left Janine trembling with desire. He never left her side and wouln't keep his hands–or mouth–off her. He made her feel liberated, like a real woman, while safe and protected.Something only a lover could do. Which only incited the stalker.Elk River, ColoradoWhere men still stand tall–and know how to treat a woman.







“About your fee—” (#ubbb42dd6-51f7-5fbf-9cf2-a7212ec804ee)Letter to Reader (#u6f8166c0-40bc-59c5-a6d2-726f0ea6fe2c)Title Page (#ucb041720-f7e6-5267-9da0-c0e4e5104f6b)Dedication (#uba375c4b-5b1d-535b-8185-aed38df79740)CAST OF CHARACTERS (#u074af6ce-456c-5c6e-8835-dc0375dfb2dc)Chapter One (#u38eb0c7f-bc1c-55ea-a14d-5dfd2e19474c)Chapter Two (#u6f2c09e1-02ad-5861-991b-1f2710af66fc)Chapter Three (#ua7c9d144-bc8c-56a9-8a21-e352fc2dafcb)Chapter Four (#u850e5c85-cfef-5f08-8c07-d71b1c500779)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


“About your fee—”

“I don’t have a fee.”

“I pay for whatever services I receive.”

“I don’t take cash from stalking victims.” Awareness of her alluring body heated his blood. He’d like to have her in his debt. He’d really like to have her in his bed. Thaw the ice, rev her engine, but now would definitely be a bad time to let her know what he was thinking. Especially since the frigid glare she gave him said she suspected exactly what he was thinking.

“How about a trade?”

She tilted her head to one side. “A trade?”

“I get rid of your stalker, you give me a honeymoon.”

“Pardon?” Her voice had risen slightly, and the corners of her mouth twitched.

Seeing her fight a smile convinced him that heat pulsed beneath her icy veneer “You’ve got the Honeymoon Hideaway at Elk River, right? Fancy cabins, room service, moonlight and romance. I could really go for that. Can you set up a honeymoon for me?”

“I could....” She relaxed—Daniel nearly melted into a puddle beneath his desk. “Are you engaged to be married?”

I’m going to marry you. “Not yet. We’ll just keep it open-ended.”


Dear Reader,

Sexy and sweet, tough and tender. These are the men of ELK RIVER, COLORADO. The men who still stand tall and know how to treat a woman. The men whom Sheryl Lynn writes about with emotion and passion in her new duet.

You may remember the legendary Duke family of Colorado, whom Sheryl first introduced in a duet called HONEYMOON HIDEAWAY a few years back. These titles—#424 The Case of the Vanished Groom and #425 The Case of the Bad Luck Fiancé as well as last month’s #514 The Bodyguard—are still available. Send $3.75 ($4.25 CAN.) each for the first two titles, $3.99 ($4.50 CAN.) for The Bodyguard, plus $.75 shipping and handling ($1.00 CAN.), to Harlequin Reader Service: 3010 Walden Ave., Buffalo, NY 14269, or P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ontario L2A 5X3.

Happy Reading!

Debra Matteucci

Senior Editor & Editorial Coordinator

Harlequin Books

300 East 42nd Street

New York, NY 10017




Undercover Fiance

Sheryl Lynn







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For my favorite future superstars: Jennifer, Emily and Mikey Campbell; Abby and Tristan Manus; and Justin Murphy. Don’t grow up too fast, but when you do, get out there and dazzle the world.








CAST OF CHARACTERS

Janine Duke—The general manager of Elk River Resort is the perfect businesswoman, with a secret admirer who’s potentially deadly.

Daniel Tucker—His life mission is making sure that no one else has to suffer the way his stalker made him suffer.

Colonel Horace Duke—The owner of Elk River, who expects his staff and family to live up to his exacting standards.

Elise Duke—A gracious matriarch whose family is her life.

Kara Duke—Janine’s baby sister thinks Daniel is gorgeous, but is he really serious about pursuing Janine or could he get serious about Kara?

Pinky—He loves Janine and to prove it he’ll get rid of the colonel so they can live happily ever after.


Chapter One

Concentrate, focus. Daniel Tucker envisioned concentric circles of red, yellow and black surrounding a bright red bull’s-eye. Easy now, picture the dart sailing in a perfect arc. Two thoughts intruded: This is stupid. He was bored.

Scowling, he fingered the dart, testing the point against the ball of his thumb. A potential client should be arriving in a few minutes—his only client in more than a month. Antistalking laws were growing teeth. He felt like a soldier in the final days of a war—bored. The more battles his side won, the more obsolete he became.

He craved a useful purpose—and something else, too. He hadn’t figured out yet what that something else might be, though.

Shaking off the gloomy thoughts, he again conjured the image of the bull’s-eye. He drew back his arm, joints loose, wrist relaxed, the crimson sweet spot glowing like a beacon. And tossed the dart.

A high-pitched squeal shattered the silence. Daniel tore off the blindfold.

There she stood, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The yellow fletch on the dart quivered in the doorjamb, scant inches from her face.

The face of an angel with wide blue eyes and a full, soft mouth. Luxurious chestnut curls fell in soft waves to her shoulders. A wine-red jacket hugged her lush bosom and narrow waist and flared over graceful hips. Visions of dart boards shrank and disappeared, replaced by an image of this goddess rising naked from the sea, riding a seashell, while cherubs—

“Are you nuts?” She looked between him and the dart. “You almost put out my eye.”

Her dulcet contralto vibrated within his heart. Daniel snapped his mouth shut. He tossed the blindfold on the desk and straightened the knot of his tie with a jerk. A glance at his watch showed four o’clock on the dot. The goddess must have accepted the “Please Come In” invitation posted on the office door.

“Some people think so,” he said and rose. “You must be Janine.” She was so stunning, he had to keep checking to make sure her perfection wasn’t an illusion.

A small frown formed between her eyebrows. “Yes, I’m Ms. Duke.” She clutched a large paper shopping bag—Neiman Marcus, he noticed—before her like a shield.

He rolled a hand, gesturing for her to enter. Reality seemed to shift. Women who looked like this only existed on a movie screen or on the airbrushed, expertly lit, artfully arranged pages of glamour magazines. He swept his other darts off the desk and into a drawer. The clattering assured him he was awake and she was for real.

“I’m Daniel Tucker.”

She eyed the dart in the woodwork warily.

He moved around the desk and held a chair for her. “Man, J.T. said you were a knockout, but as usual he understated.”

“Pardon?” She clutched the bag to her chest.

Those fabulous eyes glared up at him as if he were a bug in need of exterminating. He caught a whiff of light floral perfume with a note of vanilla. He wanted to bury his nose in her hair and snuffle like a horse.

“J.T. said you’re beautiful. I bet you hear that all the time.” He closed the office door and offered coffee.

She lifted that perfect chin. “I did not come here to be judged like a show dog, Mr. Tucker.” She frowned at the dart board hanging on the back of the door. “Or to have my eyeballs skewered.”

“Sorry about that, ma’am. I’m learning how to throw blindfolded.”

“Whatever for?”

Because the living was so damned easy he wondered why he even bothered getting out of bed in the morning. He lifted his shoulders. “New Year’s resolution. Sure you don’t want some coffee? Special blend, made fresh. Tea? Soda?” My heart, bank accounts, car?

“No, thank you.” She set the shopping bag on the floor at her feet. “I’d like to discuss business. Did J.T. tell you about my...problem?”

“Only that you have one.”

“I need confidentiality. This is a personal problem. I want it solved without involving my family.”

“Confidentiality is my specialty.” He leaned back on the chair, but stopped himself before throwing his feet up on the desk. Her posture would make a finishing-school teacher proud; his should at least rise above slovenly. He opened a drawer and swept beanbag animals, puzzles and a miniature croquet set off the desk and out of sight. “What exactly is your problem?”

“I seem to have acquired a stalker.”

That dampened his good humor. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the desk. “Go on.”

She looked around the office. The room was spacious, but cluttered with a jungle of plants and two computers. The screen-savers on both computers had words scrolling across the monitors. One said, “Vote for Dan Tucker, Emperor of the Universe.” The other said, “Smile, you’re gonna die anyway.”

The frown line appeared between her eyebrows again.

Daniel tried to guess her age. Her complexion was as smooth as polished marble. From what he could see, she didn’t sag or bag anywhere. Late twenties, he guessed. No wedding ring.

“What exactly do you do, Mr. Tucker?” She peered at his duck-decoy telephone as if it might offer information. “J.T. didn’t elaborate. Are you a private investigator? A security specialist?”

Lately he hadn’t been doing much of anything. “You might say I’m a professional problem solver.”

“And your credentials? References?”

“Confidential. My specialty is helping abused women escape their abusers. My clients come by referral only, and I don’t keep their names on file. Not even the CIA could trace anyone through me.”

“I see.”

“I also own some martial arts studios. J.T. runs them for me. His wife, Frankie, is your cousin, right?”

“Yes.” The frown line deepened. “I haven’t been in an abusive relationship. A man insists we’re in love, but we don’t have a relationship, and he won’t leave me alone. I don’t know if you can help me.”

The old, ever-present knot in his belly gave a little tug, reminding him that no matter how much time passed he’d never be completely, 100 percent free. “I know more about stalkers than most people care to know. Firsthand experience. I used to have one.”

Interest brightened her eyes, and her shoulders relaxed. She leaned forward.

“It started when I won the lottery.”

Those elegant eyebrows rose like wings.

“Do you buy Lotto tickets, ma’am?”

“No.”

“Don’t start. Imagining being a winner is a hoot, but actually doing it is a royal pain in the butt. I hit a jackpot for thirty-two million.” He paused; he never tired of seeing people’s reaction when the number sank in.

Janine’s lovely mouth formed an O.

“I get an annuity, and let me tell you, it’s a tax nightmare. I’m on a first-name basis with every IRS agent in the state. I also made the mistake of getting a big head and letting them put my picture in the newspaper and on television. Big mistake. Some folks make careers out of begging for money.”

“Your stalker is one of them?”

“No. At the time, I taught a karate class at the YMCA. She was one of my students. Kind of flaky, I thought, but a nice kid. After I went nuts with a new car, fancy condo, presents for everybody, I made some donations.” He stroked his thumbs under imaginary lapels. “The big-shot philanthropist. I paid for an annual YMCA membership for each of my students. She took it as a sign that I loved her.”

“Why?”

“It’s what she wanted to believe. If I’ve learned nothing else, it’s this—there’s no arguing with a delusion.”

“Does she have mental problems?”

“All stalkers have mental problems. My stalker was borderline schizophrenic, plus she had a disorder called erotomania. If that sounds sexy, trust me, it isn’t. It’s got nothing to do with sex or anything erotic. It’s a delusion about being in love.”

Janine lowered her gaze to the bag at her feet. She twisted a hank of hair around her fingers.

“Strike a nerve?”

“He insists what we have is true love.”

Daniel grunted. Erotomanic stalkers were the absolute worst. “My stalker called me dozens of times a day. I’d change my number, she’d find it. She broke into my home numerous times. When I called the cops, she told them she was my wife. One time she convinced them to arrest me for domestic abuse.” He shook his head at the memory.

“I moved out of state, but it only took her three months to find me. She intercepted my mail. She threatened the women I dated. I tried being nice. I tried reason. I got restraining orders. I took her to court. I had her arrested, but she convinced her parents and her attorneys that I was stringing her along. They always bailed her out of trouble.”

“How did you make her stop?”

The knot in his belly jerked tighter. “She stopped herself. She committed suicide.”

“Oh, my God,” Janine whispered.

He blew a long breath in a vain attempt to erase the sourness of old horrors from the back of his throat. “She hung herself off my bedroom balcony. She used a sheet from my bed as a noose.” He forcibly relaxed his hands. “That totally, completely sucked. I still have nightmares. But one good thing came out of it. I found my life’s calling. I don’t want anybody going through what I went through. I stop stalkers any way I can.”

Her slender throat worked, and the hair twisting increased. He recognized fear. Perfect hair, makeup and clothing aside, this woman suffered, and his heart went out to her.

“Before we continue with your problem, I want you to understand something about me. I fight dirty.”

She stopped twisting her hair. Her eyebrows lifted. He could spend a lifetime studying her incredible face. He’d give his left leg to see her smile.

“People who stalk are not reasonable. Some of them have serious personality disorders. Some are mentally ill. All of them are obsessed. Colorado has an antistalking statute. It’s fairly new, though, and not always well implemented. Unless violence is involved, the courts tend to give stalkers probation with a stipulation of counseling. Repeated arrests often do more harm than good. The stalker goes through the court system and comes out feeling stronger for the experience. So I fight dirty.”

“You use violence?”

“On occasion. Most of the stalkers I deal with are angry men. Bullies who beat up women and children. I’m a tenth-degree black belt, and I’m qualified with weapons you’ve probably never heard of.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Bullies don’t like the taste of their own medicine.”

“My stalker isn’t violent.”

“Stalking is violence. You must realize that on some level.”

Her slender throat worked with a hard swallow.

“Being nice does not work. Being polite but firm does not work. I have discovered, in many cases, that the judicious use of mayhem does work.”

“I see.” The softly hesitant words held volumes of skepticism.

“Have you gone to the police?”

“No.”

“Have you confronted your stalker?”

“I haven’t a clue as to who he is.”

He straightened on the chair, and the wheels squeaked. He’d wanted a challenged, and a doozy landed in his lap. He’d never dealt with an anonymous stalker before. They usually targeted celebrities or politicians.

“I don’t want anybody killed, Mr. Tucker.”

“I haven’t killed anybody.” He curled the corners of his mouth in a tight smile. “Yet.”

She lowered her gaze to the shopping bag as if it contained the secrets of the universe. Perhaps it did. “He’s threatened my family,” she said quietly. “I want him stopped.” She stroked the bag. Her hands were slim with long fingers. Clear polish on her nails had been buffed to a high shine.

Her vanity intrigued him. She knew damned well how gorgeous she was. He felt a connection. He was vain as hell, too.

“I’m at a loss. If I knew who he was, I’d talk to him. But he could walk into this room right now, and I wouldn’t have a clue as to his identity.”

“Anonymous stalkers need control as much as they need love. Anonymity helps maintain the control. You can’t reject him if you don’t know who he is. How has he threatened your family?”

She reached into the bag and rustled amongst papers. She brought out a pink envelope and placed it on the desk. “This came in the mail the day before yesterday. It’s why I called J.T. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You did right to call him. Stalkers don’t go away by themselves.” He shook a folded sheet of paper from the envelope. He noticed the envelope bore no postmark. A bad sign. It could mean the envelope missed the marking machine in the postal service, or it could mean the envelope had been personally delivered. The letter consisted of three short paragraphs. The first two paragraphs extolled Janine’s virtue. The third paragraph chilled his blood.

It isn’t fair for him to keep us apart. He works you to death, taking up all your time, and now he is ruining the most romantic day of the year! Valentine’s Day is our day! I’ll help you, love. Your father is a tyrant. Death to all tyrants! I will make him go away. Then you and I can live together in the mountains forever, happily ever after.

It was signed, “Love you gobs and gobs and gobs, Pinky.”

“Am I paranoid?” she asked. “Or is he threatening my father?”

“Sounds like a threat to me. I always take threats seriously.”

Color drained from her cheeks.

“What’s the deal with Valentine’s Day?”

“It’s my parents’ wedding anniversary. Did J.T. tell you about Elk River Resort?”

“He said you’re the general manager. I looked it up on the Internet. Nice web site. Did you create it?”

A trace of pride shone in her eyes. “Actually, my sister does our on-line advertising. She’s very artistic. Elk River is a family operation. I cannot leave my job. My family depends on me. Not to mention I’m hosting a party for my parents. We’ll have guests from all over the world. It’s their fortieth anniversary.”

“Forty years of marriage, huh? My parents can’t make it to seven years no matter how many times they try.” In answer to her puzzled look, he added, “My mother gave up after five marriages. Dad is working on wife number six.” He laughed—making jokes beat feeling bitterness over his screwed-up family. “I ought to be in the Guinness Book of World Records for greatest number of stepparents.”

“I’m...sorry,” she said.

He waved a hand in dismissal. “But back to you. When did the stalking start?”

She lifted the shopping bag onto the desk and gestured for him to look inside. “A year ago. I was having lunch with a friend here in Colorado Springs. Pinky stole my Day-Timer.”

He peeked inside the bag. It contained envelopes, most of them pink, plus cassette tapes and bundles of cards in all shapes and sizes. An impressive collection for only a year’s time. “I take it you’re the type of lady who carries her life in a book?”

Her eyes narrowed and her full lips thinned. Her expressiveness startled him, enchanted him. No glamour magazine cutout she, but a living, breathing mortal.

“No offense intended. But some people are organizers and some aren’t. What was in the Day-Timer?”

“Everything.” A faint blush blossomed on her cheeks.

Daniel suppressed a sigh.

“Names, addresses, my schedule. It was right before Christmas, so it contained information about my entire year. The first letter arrived a week later. He sent a box of chocolates, too. I threw them away. The letters and gifts kept coming. When I realized he wouldn’t stop, I began saving them. I keep looking for clues. He knows all about me, but I know nothing about him.”

“What about the cassette tapes? You’re taping phone calls?”

She twisted a hank of hair around her fingers. “He’s never called me. The tapes are recordings of love songs, religious sermons and radio commercials. It’s a jumble of nonsense. I don’t know why he sends them.”

“Maybe he’s hearing messages from you. He’s letting you know he’s receiving them.”

“Please...”

“I’m serious. One stalker was convinced his victim sent him daily messages via the Geraldo Rivera show. He spent hours transcribing every word so he didn’t miss any messages.”

“That’s insane.”

“That’s delusion at work.”

She rolled her eyes. “At first I was angry because I was certain he stole my Day-Timer. Then I thought he would grow bored and give up. But the letters have grown increasingly personal. It’s as if he knows everything about my life. He knows everything I do.” She closed her eyes for a moment and sat perfectly still. When she looked at him, her expression held a tremulous plea that touched him deeply. “Very little frightens me, but Pinky scares me to death. I don’t like it. I won’t tolerate it. Can you help me, Mr. Tucker?”

“I’ll do my best.” He began emptying the bag, sorting the contents into stacks of letters, cards and cassette tapes. “You haven’t told anybody about Pinky? Your parents? Friends?”

“No, and I have no intention of doing so. My father is seventy-seven years old. He doesn’t need the stress. I want this problem solved with the least amount of fuss as possible.”

He suspected her need for privacy went much deeper than concern about her father’s age. He’d talk with her about it later.

“The party I’m giving for my parents is very important. We’re hosting a family reunion, plus, friends we haven’t seen in years will be attending. I can’t cancel the party just to make Pinky happy.”

“You’re right about that. It would only encourage him. Let me sort through this mess. I’ll see what I can pick up, maybe come up with a profile about his character. Then we’ll discuss strategy.”

A trace of a smile curved her luscious mouth. She opened her slim handbag and withdrew a leather-bound checkbook. “About your fee—”

“I don’t have a fee.”

“Pardon?”

He adored the way she said that. All snooty and refined, like a princess momentarily ruffled by the riffraff. “I have more money than I know what to do with.”

“I pay for whatever services I receive.”

“I don’t take cash from stalking victims.” He cocked his head, studying the gentle contours of her oval face and the sculpted lines of her cheekbones. He resisted examining her shoulders and breasts, but awareness of her alluring body heated his blood. He’d like to have her in his debt.

He’d really like to have her in his bed. Thaw the ice, rev her engine, goad her into calling him darling—and mean it. He pushed his tongue against his palate and kept his mouth shut. Now would definitely be a bad time to let her know what he was thinking. Especially since the frigid glare she gave him said she suspected exactly what he was thinking.

“How about a trade?”

She tilted her head to one side. “A trade?”

“I get rid of Pinky, you give me a honeymoon.”

“Pardon?” Her voice had risen slightly, and the corners of her mouth twitched.

Seeing her fight a smile convinced him that heat pulsed beneath her icy veneer. “You’ve got the Honeymoon Hideaway, right? Fancy cabins, room service, moonlight and romance. I could really go for that. Can you set up a honeymoon for me?”

“I could....” She relaxed—Daniel nearly melted into a puddle beneath the desk. “Are you engaged to be married?”

I’m going to marry you.

The thought shocked him. Still, the sheer rightness glowed in his being like a bright, white light. The last time intuition had struck so hard he’d impulsively purchased a lottery ticket and changed his life forever.

“Not yet. We’ll just keep it open ended.”

She lowered her gaze to the checkbook. “I’m going to have to think about this. Perhaps I haven’t explored all my options.”

He touched the stacks of pink envelopes and fancy cards. He knew he could help her. He needed to help her. One way or another he had to see her again. “If you give me twenty-four hours to study Pinky, I can outline a plan of attack. Then you can decide if you want my help.”

“I’d be more comfortable if this were strictly business.”

“Barter is as good as cash. So what do you say?” He extended a hand over the desk.

“Well...J.T. does highly recommend you.” She shook hands with him. Her skin was cool and silky. Luckily for Daniel the desk was between them, or he’d have drawn her hand to place over his heart.

“I’ll buy you dinner, then. Tomorrow, seven o’clock.”

She cast him a cutting glance that might have cowed a lesser man. Daniel was enchanted. Finding the key to unlock her icy heart might prove to be the most enjoyable challenge of his life.

“I doubt your girlfriend would approve.”

“Business, Ms. Duke, to discuss Pinky. How about we meet halfway, in Woodland Park? The Alpine, seven o’clock.”

Her eyes acquired a gleam as she gave him a long, considering look. With unconscious grace she slid one hand along the edge of her lapel. Those elegant fingers trailed tantalizingly over the rise of her bosom. Daniel’s heartbeat thudded heavily in his ears.

“Do you really think you can help me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very well,” she said. “Seven o’clock, the Alpine. Don’t be late.” She glanced at the dart stuck in the door frame. A half smile appeared and stole the remainder of his heart. “Do leave your toys at home.” She strolled out the door.

Daniel stared at the tantalizing sway of her hips.

Pumped up by the prospect of becoming a hero in the enchanting Ms. Duke’s eyes, he tackled the contents of the Neiman Marcus bag. He didn’t know squat about anonymous stalkers, but he was a quick study.

He’d find a way to get rid of Pinky or die trying.


Chapter Two

Keys in hand, Janine studied the parking lot. Despite the bright sun shining over the mountains, the temperature hovered in the thirties. She shivered. Until Pinky entered her life she’d been as safety conscious as any reasonably intelligent woman should be. Nowadays she was downright paranoid.

Daniel Tucker hadn’t been what she expected. Her cousin had talked about him, claiming him more like family than an employer. She’d imagined an authority figure with a wall full of credentials and a serious demeanor. An ex-cop or an attorney, perhaps a Raymond Burr look-alike. Instead, Daniel had an impudent air and a smart-aleck mouth. Baskets of toys filled his reception area and his office looked like a big kid’s playground, full of desk toys, fancy electronic gadgetry, far too many house plants, and silly posters on the walls.

And handsome! She hadn’t expected him to be so ridiculously good-looking. Eye candy, her sister would dub him.

His reaction to her didn’t bother her. She was used to men fixating on her body parts. She didn’t like being treated like a bimbo, but she was used to it.

Her reaction to him, however...

His staring and open admiration hadn’t annoyed her the way such ogling usually did. She’d indulged in a bit of ogling herself. She’d even flirted; she never did that.

She pulled sunglasses from her handbag and jammed them on her face. Too old for silly flirtations and crushes, she wasn’t the least bit interested in him as an attractive man.

She hurried to the Jeep, unlocked the door and jumped inside, pulling the door shut with a slam. She hit the door locks. Windows on the second floor of the office building drew her gaze. In Daniel’s cluttered office she’d felt safe.

She’d dreaded the appointment and had almost chickened out. She’d expected a humiliating encounter, with Daniel patronizing her as if she were too stupid to handle Pinky by herself. Instead, she’d felt a kinship, a sense of not being so alone. By being so open about his own stalker, he’d made her feel comfortable enough to share her story. The connection and safety she’d felt accounted for his attractiveness.

She prayed Daniel could help her. She wanted her life back. She craved peace and privacy. If he could help her, let him flirt all he wanted.

SOFT KNOCKING broke Daniel’s concentration. When J.T. McKennon walked into the office, Daniel smiled in greeting. J.T. wore his work uniform, a red T-shirt with the Full Circle logo and black trousers. He plopped a briefcase on the desk.

“I saw the lights on when I was driving past. I figured you were still working. When are you going to get a life?”

“After I finish saving the world from evil. Should take me a few more weeks.” He glanced at his watch, surprised to see how late it was. No wonder his stomach growled. “Did you work late?”

“Shari has the flu. I took over her self-defense class.” He popped the latches on the briefcase. “I brought the payroll.”

Daniel used a remote control to turn off the stereo. He’d been listening to the cassette tapes Pinky had given Janine. The lament-filled love ballads and psychobabble commentary were giving him a headache. “You should have canceled the class, man. Frankie doesn’t like you working late.”

“She took the boy to see her sister. You know how it is when the girls get to talking. I’ll probably beat them home.” He jutted his chin at the calendar pages and correspondence Daniel had spread out on a worktable. “What’s all that?”

The stalker was a prolific writer, sometimes sending three or four letters a week. The majority of letters were five or more pages long. All the letters were dated, and most were notated with the time. Curious as to whether Pinky’s interest waxed and waned according to some predictable cycle, Daniel had sorted the correspondence into chronological order.

Using black ink for letters, blue for cassettes and green for greeting cards, he’d filled in a calendar according to when items were received. He circled in red any envelope that didn’t bear a postmark.

Cards clustered at mid-month and the end of the month. The cards were embossed and foiled, and many were oversize. All were filled with mushy doggerel that passed for poetry among the sentimental set. The prices printed on the backs of them showed the majority were in the five-dollar range. Pinky might be buying cards when he cashed a biweekly paycheck.

“What did Janine tell you about her problem?”

J.T. paused in the midst of pulling files from the briefcase. “Janine contacted you?”

“Called me, made an appointment and showed up right on time. You’re surprised?”

He lifted a shoulder in a rolling shrug. “I’m surprised she asked for help.” He chuckled.

“What’s funny?”

“Frankie’s going to kill me.”

“Why?”

“You know how she’s been lately. Ever since she got pregnant, she’s been playing matchmaker. If she isn’t eating, she’s plotting how to marry off her single friends. She wanted to have you and Janine over for dinner. Her words—you’d make a cute couple.”

“She still can.” It flattered him that Frankie thought he was good enough for her lovely cousin.

J.T. swung his head. “Won’t be the same. Oh, well. So what’s going on? She didn’t give me details.”

Daniel debated how much to tell. Since hiring J.T. to run the studios, they’d formed a solid friendship. J.T., Frankie and their little boy had become the family Daniel always longed for. He trusted the big man like a brother, but he also respected Janine’s privacy. Still, J.T. was her cousin-in-law and he would never gossip. Daniel needed someone to bounce his thoughts off of.

“She’s in trouble.”

“How much trouble?”

“On a scale of one to ten, about a twenty. An anonymous stalker is making death threats against her father. Look at this.”

He pointed out the marked-up calendar pages and envelopes. What bothered him most were the postmarks. The first letters were postmarked from Colorado Springs, then a March letter bore a Cripple Creek postmark. After that the postmarks came from small towns like Woodland Park, Midland and Florrisant—all within easy driving distance of Elk River. None of the letters in June or beyond bore a Colorado Springs postmark. By September half the envelopes lacked a postmark. In December, only two letters bore a postmark. None in January had one.

J.T. grunted. “Hand delivering mail. That’s not good.”

“According to the maps, the lands surrounding the resort are either Bureau of Land Management or national forest. I’m betting this joker lives at Elk River.” Daniel hadn’t read all the letters, but what he had read told him Pinky considered Janine his personal property and he was getting frustrated with a one-sided relationship. “Why is she so insistent about keeping it hush-hush?”

“I couldn’t tell you.” J.T. made a musing noise. “Except she’s the independent type. Frankie calls her Wonder Woman.” He picked up a pink envelope. “This has been going on for a year?”

“Yep. I’m putting an end to it, if she’ll let me. What’s her soft spot?”

“What do you have in mind?”

At the man’s suspicious tone, Daniel’s grin widened. J.T. was as staunchly loyal as a Buckingham Palace guard, but Janine was his cousin-in-law and he’d die to protect his family. “Not what you’re thinking, my man. My intentions are pure.” Sort of. “Her situation calls for some serious intervention, but I get the impression she isn’t enamored about the way I do business.”

J.T. took his time answering. “Soft spots and Janine don’t mesh.”

Daniel scanned the paragraph that threatened her father. “How close is she to her old man?”

“The colonel?” J.T. blew a long breath. “As far as she’s concerned, he can do no wrong. From what I’ve seen, the feeling is mutual.”

Interesting.

Daniel tossed out ideas about how to handle Pinky. J.T.’s background in personal security and experience as a bodyguard made his suggestions sound.

As J.T. was leaving, Daniel asked, “So, Janine is available?”

The big man turned his head to look over his shoulder. “If you mean, is she single, then yes. But available, probably not.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, she doesn’t take crap off anybody.” A slow grin brightened his face. “And you, my friend, are full of crap.”

BY THE NEXT EVENING, when Daniel parked at the Alpine restaurant in Woodland Park, he knew without a doubt that Janine Duke desperately needed his help. He stepped out of his Tahoe. He inhaled deeply the crisp mountain air. Patches of snow marked the edges of the parking lot. He eyeballed the distance between his vehicle and the car next to it. He’d picked up the Tahoe from the dealer a few days ago, and wanted no dings or scratches on its pristine paint job.

At the restaurant door he glimpsed his reflection in the glass. He stroked a hand over the side of his hair and adjusted his tie. One real benefit of winning the Lotto had been discovering how great he looked in an Armani suit.

Inside, he spotted Janine. Seated at a window table, she stared at the traffic on Highway 24, or perhaps at the mountains beyond.

Janine spotted Daniel’s reflection in the window glass. Her breath caught. In a dark gray, double-breasted suit cut to emphasize his broad shoulders and narrow waist, he was even better looking than she remembered, and a fluttery sensation rose in her chest.

A mistake, she thought. She shouldn’t be asking for help from a stranger. Pinky hadn’t sent a letter today. What was the big deal about letters, anyway? For the most part the letters, cards and gifts were innocuous. As disconcerting as it was to have a secret admirer, she could live with it.

Daniel met her gaze in the window glass. She tried to ignore the fluttering that now touched her belly. “You’re late,” she said.

“I’m right on time. You’re early.” He sat and picked up a menu.

Subdued purples and blues in his tie complemented his bronze-on-bronze hair and skin. The sculpted lines of his jaw and neck hinted at a physique in its prime. She raised a menu, blocking the view. Pinky’s untoward pursuit of her or her untoward awareness of Daniel Tucker—she couldn’t decide which was worse. “Where are my letters?”

“I left the bag in the truck.”

An ivory-colored turtleneck sweater set off her rich coloring. Her hair glimmered by candlelight with golds, reds and copper. No way was he going to give in to the natural urge to tell her how gorgeous she looked. Her situation was far too serious.

“Have you ordered yet?” he asked. “Would you care for a drink? They have a nice wine list.”

“No, thank you. What did you think of the letters and tapes?”

“Are you aware that Pinky is one of your employees? Or else he’s living in the air ducts at the lodge.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips against her forehead. “I knew you were going to say that.”

A server interrupted them. She recited the evening specials and asked if they’d like an appetizer. Daniel ordered calamari, consulted briefly with Janine, then ordered the venison scallopini special for them both.

He cocked his head. “You didn’t mention the possibility of Pinky living at the resort. Testing me?”

“Certainly not.” Her genuinely troubled expression made him contrite. “I had hoped I was wrong.”

“You have no idea who he is? No suspicions whatsoever?”

She shook her head. “It must be somebody I hired this year, but that’s more than twenty people. I check references though. I haven’t hired any criminals.”

“Pinky might not be a criminal—yet. But he is unbalanced, and he has a serious grudge against your father.” He plucked a bread stick out of a basket and used it to emphasize his point. “Pinky has decided your father is the reason the two of you can’t be together. The anniversary party is throwing fuel on the fire.”

“I won’t cancel the party. It’s too important.”

“I’ve come up with a plan to distract him from obsessing about your father and maybe flush him out into the open.”

She sipped from a water goblet. Violets, he thought. Her eyes were the exact shade of blue as African violets. Incredible.

“Do you have a significant other?” he asked. He hoped not.

“I have a gentleman friend. Elliot Damsen.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Gentleman friend?” He was confused. Nothing in Pinky’s correspondence indicated he felt threatened by Janine’s romantic liaisons. “How friendly?”

“We meet in Colorado Springs whenever our schedules coincide. We share season tickets to the symphony.”

“Is he married?”

Violet fire crackled in her glare. “No, he isn’t married. Not that it’s any of your business, but Elliot and I have dated casually for years.”

“How can anybody date casually for years?”

“It’s a comfortable relationship. And none of your business.”

Casual, comfortable—neither fit Janine Duke. Elliot must be a world-class wuss. “So Pinky doesn’t know about Elliot?”

“Unless he follows me when I leave the resort, then I don’t see how Pinky could know.”

He refrained from grinning in triumph. “Good. We’ll leave comfy old Elliot out of the picture altogether. As of now, I’m your boyfriend. And nothing casual, either.”

“Pardon?”

He loved the way she said that. “I’m the love of your life now. When Pinky realizes I’m the real threat, he’ll forget about your father. He should reveal himself.”

She blinked slowly, several times. When she’d asked for Daniel’s help, she hadn’t the faintest idea what kind of plan he might come up with. She’d imagined he’d stake out the mailbox or interview people, or perhaps produce some magical bit of modern technology designed to ferret out secret admirers. “You’ll pose as my boyfriend,” she said slowly. “And I pretend I’m in love with you?” The absurdity tickled her. “That isn’t the sort of plan I can pull off.”

She expected laughter, not the burning intensity he focused on her eyes. Her throat went dry.

“You don’t have much choice, ma’am. If you haven’t figured out who Pinky is by now, you probably never will. At least, not until he attacks your father. Or you. We need to flush him out of the woodwork. We better do it before the party pushes him over the edge.”

“I don’t merely live at the resort, I work there. I can’t...”

“You can’t what?”

Have people gossiping. Laughing behind her back. Pointing. Snickering about her private life. “I’m hiring you as a professional. I expect a professional solution.”

“You expect a simple solution. I wish I had one for you.”

His sincerity shone through. As much as she hated his idea, she recognized its merits. Suffering some minor embarrassment meant little in comparison to protecting her father from harm. “You honestly think Pinky is dangerous?”

“He seems to believe you know who he is and you’re conspiring with him to keep the love affair secret. He’s growing frustrated. He wants to bring the relationship out in the open, but he doesn’t know how. So he’s using your dad as a scapegoat. That kind of thinking is extremely dangerous.”

She took a sip of water and her hand trembled. Water drops spread on the tablecloth. “Is that why your stalker committed suicide? Frustration?”

“She wanted to make sure she was always in my thoughts.” He made a facial shrug. “She got her wish.”

The server brought the appetizer. The smell of top-quality olive oil and the sight of perfectly fried batter glistening on the calamari distracted Janine. She worked hard to maintain her weight, but the calamari tempted her. She slipped a single piece onto her bread plate.

“Your plan will take Pinky’s attention off my father?”

“A real lover is far more threatening to a would-be lover than a father.”

Lover. Imagining Daniel as a lover was much too easy. “He’ll reveal himself?”

“There, I’m not so positive. He’s deeply invested in his anonymous act.”

She nibbled the calamari. It tasted as good as it looked. No amount of ignoring Pinky or wishful thinking was making him go away. Besides, how much damage could a pretend boyfriend do? “Very well, Mr. Tucker. We’ll try your plan.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to that Honeymoon Hideaway cabin. That will include champagne, right?”

“You get rid of Pinky, and I’ll supply enough champagne for you to bathe in every night.”

Wow, DANIEL THOUGHT as he entered the lobby of the Elk River lodge. He enjoyed skiing and had spent a lot of time in fancy resort towns like Vail, Aspen and Breckenridge. He liked the ambiance of ski lodges: crackling fires, healthy people, lots of talk. But this place, despite its size, felt like a home. It radiated a warmth that spoke of family and togetherness and happy times.

Employees moving throughout the lobby and lounge were easy to spot by their white sweaters, black trousers and brass name tags. Daniel doubted Pinky had direct contact with the public. His letters showed he was intelligent and reasonably well-read, but he’d be underemployed so he could concentrate on Janine. He probably worked in maintenance or housekeeping.

He ambled across the lobby. At the registration desk two young women inputted information into computers. Both raised their heads to watch his approach.

He leaned an arm on the counter. “Hi.”

A perky blonde, her name tag read Debbi, patted her hair and adjusted the neck of her sweater. “Welcome to Elk River. May I help you?”

“I sure hope so.”

Her eyelashes lowered coquettishly. “Do you have a reservation?”

“I’m here to see someone. Janine Duke. Do you know where I might find her?”

The other young woman swiveled her head like a deer going on alert. She was taller, younger and thinner than Janine, but he didn’t need to read “Kara” on her name tag to know this was Janine’s younger sister.

“Do you have a business appointment?” Kara asked.

“Actually, Kara,” he said and leaned both arms on the counter. “She and I have a date.”

“A date?” She sounded shocked. Next to her, Debbi cocked her head and blinked rapidly.

He glanced at a huge clock mounted on a far wall. It was framed by an impressive rack of elk antlers. He was three minutes early. “Didn’t she tell you about me? She told me about you.”

Kara patted her hair. “Good things, I hope?”

“She somehow failed to mention how pretty you are. You don’t think she’s jealous, do you?”

Blushing, she giggled behind her hand.

He stepped back and placed a hand over his heart. “Seeing you almost makes me sorry I’m madly in love with your sister. Ah well, such is fate. Maybe in our next lifetime—”

He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Janine stood under an open doorway leading to the east wing. Arms crossed, she glared at the scene taking place at the desk. She did not appear amused.

JANINE DIDN’T FEEL the slightest amusement. She resented having to ask for Daniel Tucker’s help. To have a lovesick moron stalking her from the shadows, mocking her attempts to roust him into the open and forcing her to plead for help as if she were some helpless maiden, stuck in her craw.

Watching Daniel flirt outrageously with her sister annoyed her.

Daniel swung away from the counter and held his arms wide. “Cupcake!”

Seeing his intention to hug her, she tensed for a major rebuff. Reason returned in the nick of time. Her parents’ anniversary was in ten days. Ten short days in which she to stop Pinky from harming her father. Only Daniel Tucker could help her.

She really hated that.

He enfolded her in an exuberant embrace. He wore a heavy coat lined with sheepskin, but the power in his lean body reached her. He wasn’t overly tall, but neither was she, and he engulfed her. The scent of soap, shaving cream and masculine warmth surrounded her and stole her breath. When he released her, she huffed a sigh of relief.

He had brown eyes, like polished pennies, and they danced with good humor. “You look fabulous, cupcake. As usual.”

She didn’t recall stupid pet names being part of the plan. She noticed Debbi and Kara drinking in the scene as if they watched a sappy movie. “I’m glad to see you, too, Daniel. Did you have problems finding the place?”

“You give great directions. It’s a nice drive. I enjoyed myself.” He draped an arm over her shoulders.

The impulse to ram her elbow into his gut nearly overwhelmed her. Smiling made her jaws ache. She could do this. She had to do this. Her father’s safety depended on it.

“I see you’ve met Kara and Debbi. Ladies, this is Daniel Tucker. He’ll be my guest for a day or two.” Light sensations tickled her ear and neck, raising gooseflesh along her back. He was playing with her hair! She stepped away and grabbed his hand. The size of his hand took her aback. As much as his overacting ticked her off, his powerful hands reassured her.

Kara and Debbi repeated Daniel’s name. They sounded like cooing doves. Janine refrained from rolling her eyes in disgust. “I’m putting him in the east wing. Room 202.”

“That’s too small.” Kara typed rapidly on the computer keyboard. “You ought to give him a room over on the third floor. It’s nicer—”

“I’ve made the arrangements,” Janine interrupted. “Come along, dear. I’ll give you that tour I promised. Kara will take care of your luggage.” She urged him to follow her into the east wing. As soon as they were out of earshot of the registration desk she stopped and turned on him. “I don’t think I made myself clear, Mr. Tucker.”

His coat hung open, revealing an ecru-colored, cable-knit sweater. Hand knit and expensive, she noticed. The attention he paid to his clothing irked her. The attention she paid irked her even more. She had neither the time nor inclination to moon over a handsome man.

“I’m not given to public displays of affection. And I don’t appreciate being called cupcake. No one will buy that lovey-dovey stuff. So put a cork in it.”

He managed an expression of almost childlike innocence. “In order to flush out Pinky we have to go over the top.” He spoke reasonably, even sounded businesslike. “We can’t give him any reason to explain me away. You have to convince him that you’re madly in love with me.”

“Anyone who knows me is well aware that I don’t madly do anything.”

“Pinky doesn’t know you. Not you, the person. He only knows you, the object of his obsession. He has created, entirely in his own mind, the you he loves. Normal rules don’t apply. You have to shatter the image he’s created in a way he can’t justify. I thought I explained all this.”

Subdued, she rubbed her fingertips over the headache forming in her temples. He had explained it. He acted exactly the way he’d promised. She, however, hadn’t realized how embarrassing it would be. Her ears burned as she imagined Kara and Debbi telling everyone within earshot that Janine had finally snagged herself a cute boyfriend.

“Pinky thinks you’re a goddess. Remote, unattainable, untouchable. A woman worthy of worship. I get a sense that something happened in the past few weeks. Something that threatened his image of you. He’s trying to put you back up on the pedestal. He blames your father for whatever happened.”

Metal rattled as a young man wheeled a cart laden with table linens out of a storeroom. Startled, Janine suddenly felt small and vulnerable. She imagined watching eyes wherever she went. She’d been sleeping poorly, overly alert for any suspicious noise in the night. Every pink envelope she received made her want to vomit. Stress headaches plagued her. Relationships with resort employees were growing strained as she wondered which one of them had invaded her privacy and threatened her father’s life.

“Let’s go to my office,” she said. “I don’t want to talk out here.”

She unlocked her office door. As she turned the key, fresh resentment built. She feared Pinky had been snooping around in her desk and files. Recently she’d been locking the door, even if she was only going across the hall to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

“I know you’re scared,” Daniel said.

She almost said, You have no idea. Except, he did. The experience with his stalker still haunted him.

She handed over the latest missive she’d received from Pinky. “It was in my message box this morning. No envelope.”

He unfolded the sheet of lined notebook paper. His expression darkened. He made a soft, growly noise. “‘Cut him to pieces and scatter his body for the crows to eat.’ Humph, nice imagery.” He turned the paper over and checked the blank backside. “So he’s giving up pretending to mail letters. Bad sign. Where is your father right now?”

“He and Mom went to Denver yesterday. They’re meeting with suppliers. They won’t be back until tomorrow. I called him this morning right after I found that. He’s okay. No problems.”

As he looked around the office, he seemed to approve of what he saw. “So tell me, what happened a few weeks ago? What set Pinky off?”

Clueless, she shook her head. She busied her hands with straightening papers on her desk. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Think about it.”

His commanding tone caught her off guard. So did the sudden blazing intensity in his eyes.

“You have a serious situation here. Pinky has graduated from puppy love to full-blown rage.” He rattled the note. “He wants a response from you. If he doesn’t get it, he’ll escalate.”

Even before the first threat to her father, she’d been noticing a shift in the tone of Pinky’s letters. Rage. Daniel pinpointed exactly what her instincts had been warning her about.

“Think back to around the second week of January. Something unusual happened.”

She swiveled her chair so she could see a wall calendar. “It’s been a snowy winter. We’ve caught a lot of overflow from the ski resorts. Everybody has been working really hard, but we’ve had no problems with the staff. By the second week of January we were catching our breath.” She turned back to her desk and flipped through an appointment book. A notation caught her attention.

“What is it?” Daniel asked.

“Les Shuemaker.” A frisson tickled her spine—this man was downright spooky in his ability to pinpoint problems. “The second week of January. The colonel and I argued about Les Shuemaker.”

“Is Shuemaker an employee?”

“He owns Wild and High Outfitters. It’s a retail chain that sells camping and skiing equipment. He’d like to open a concession here at Elk River. My father is for it. I’m against it.”

“And?”

Even remembering the incident embarrassed her. “It wasn’t the business I objected to. We’ve been discussing concessions for some time. People on vacation spend a lot of money on impulse buys and souvenirs. I, however, didn’t like Les Shuemaker.”

“Why is that?”

She sighed. He wouldn’t rest until he knew everything. “He’s a lecher. He implied that I could wrangle an extra half percentage point of his gross sales if only I were extra nice to him. He offended me. Of course he was a perfect gentleman whenever the colonel was around. That especially offended me. He began pressuring the colonel to make an agreement on the spot and I...I lost my temper.”

“In public?”

“In the restaurant.” She closed her eyes. “The colonel had no idea why I was so angry with the man, so he was upset with me. Then Shuemaker said something idiotic and I dumped a bowl of soup on his lap.”

Daniel’s smile showed million-dollar teeth. His eyes sparkled.

“It isn’t funny. It’s humiliating.” He kept grinning, though, and his was an infectious smile. To her horror her cheeks began twitching with the urge to laugh. Some of the tightness eased in her chest. “The colonel was very angry.”

“He yelled at you?”

“We were both yelling.” She tried to banish the image of Les Shuemaker’s calf-eyed surprise when she’d hit him where it hurt with steamy soup. “I’m a professional. So is my father. We generally conduct our tussles behind closed doors.”

“What kind of soup?”

“Pardon?”

“What kind of soup did you dump on the lecher’s lap?”

A laugh burst free and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Daniel Tucker, she decided, had a twisted sense of humor. “Winter squash,” she said between her fingers. “Chef’s specialty.”

He nodded. “So your dad yells and the goddess lifts her skirt to show off feet of clay. No wonder Pinky is ticked off.”

“I was yelling, too,” she reminded him.

“That’s worse. Yelling is much too human. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

She saw his point. As long as she was perfect, Pinky contented himself with anonymous notes. “I never would have connected the incident with Pinky’s attitude. I suppose you do know what you’re doing.”

“I’ve done my homework.” He steepled his fingers over his chest. “That’s why you need to step out of character. Even if it means public displays of affection.”

She never fraternized with employees. She kept her personal life 100 percent private. Having Daniel hanging all over her, hamming it up and pretending he loved her would cause gossip and speculation.

“Why is this so hard for you?” he asked.

His question bothered her in ways she couldn’t define. “You wouldn’t understand. Not that it matters. I’ve already conceded I need your help.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile. “Tough girl, huh.”

“Not tough enough to make Pinky leave my father alone.” She reached for her coat. “We’ll begin with a tour of the grounds.”

He opened the office door. “Just remember to giggle at my jokes.”


Chapter Three

Shaken by Pinky’s latest missive, Janine had trouble maintaining a pleasant demeanor. Pinky had threatened outright murder. No amount of denial or putting a spin on it made it anything less than a death threat. Arm in arm she strolled with Daniel through the lobby. She forced a smile even though it made her face ache. Her head throbbed. She introduced him to employees and guests she knew by name. Each time she said boyfriend, her throat choked.

Young or old, beautiful or plain, women turned their heads to watch him walk by. He moved with the easy grace of a natural-born athlete. His penny-bright eyes appeared to miss nothing. He exuded self-confidence, intelligence and goodwill—he radiated attitude.

They walked outside onto the huge deck behind the lodge. In fair weather it sported tables and umbrellas for alfresco dining. A few hardy souls garbed in ski togs braved the biting cold. The smell of hot cocoa and buttered rum rose like perfume. Daniel commented on the view. Strategically planted trees blocked the sight of the parking lot, but not the forest and mountains gleaming pearly white.

A bus lumbered up the graveled drive and parked below the deck. Daniel and Janine stepped aside to make way for a group of people dressed for skiing. Laughing and talking, their boots making the wooden deck rumble and shake, the people carried skis, poles and snowboards onto the bus. Daniel kept an arm wrapped firmly around Janine’s waist.

“Is the shuttle driver your employee?” he asked.

“No. We contract with the bus company. Why?”

“He’s staring at you.”

She sneaked a peek and recognized the driver. He’d been working for the shuttle company for as long as the Dukes had owned Elk River Resort. “He isn’t Pinky.”

“You’re sure?”

She chuckled at the idea of the shuttle driver being a deranged stalker. “Positive. He and my father are friends.” She waved to prove her point. The driver waved back, then shut the bus doors and shoved the transmission into gear. The bus rolled into the parking lot to make the turnaround.

Janine walked down the steps. “I’ve hired twenty new employees this year. Of those, twelve were hired specifically for the holiday season, mid-November through the end of February. Four of the seasonal employees worked for us last year.”

“You have sixty people on staff, right? How many of them live at the resort?”

“At the moment, eighteen. We offer room and board as part of the employment package. It can be a tough commute in the winter.”

“Where do they live?”

She pointed toward a fence nearly concealed by juniper trees. A green-painted roof was visible beyond the foliage. “The dormitory can house thirty people. The managerial staff have rooms inside the lodge in the east wing.”

She gave him the grand tour. Daniel listened attentively as she pointed out various buildings. Warmed with pride, she stopped having to force a smile.

Even in the midst of winter, the resort grounds sparkled. All the outbuildings were clean and painted white with green trim. The parking lots were graded and cleared of ice and snow. Evergreen hedges and trees concealed areas with less-than-aesthetic features.

“I can see why you love it here,” he said. He breathed deeply. “Wood smoke and snow. Ought to bottle it.”

His charm was getting under her skin. She was beginning to relax, even to enjoy herself. “You’re quite the romantic.”

“Hopelessly.” A light breeze tousled his hair. Cold turned his cheeks ruddy. He playfully flipped at her furry coat collar. “Aren’t you?”

She reminded herself he was an employee with a specific task to accomplish. No flirtations. No silliness. “No. I’m a businesswoman.”

“Nine-to-five and nothing else? I don’t believe it What do you do for fun?”

“Balance spreadsheets.”

He threw back his head and laughed.

They walked past the tennis courts and picnic grounds. She pointed out the stables. From a distance a faint jingling of bells said guests were enjoying a horse-drawn wagon ride.

A discordant noise caught her attention. She followed the source and spotted puffs of black smoke rising toward the jewel-like sky. She headed toward it.

“What’s going on?” Daniel asked.

“I’m about to find out.” She reached a garage. Off by itself, tucked behind the dormitory and equipment storage sheds, her father used it to store his antique Jeep. The maintenance people used it to repair mechanical equipment. She considered it an eyesore.

In the graveled yard two men worked on a tractor outfitted with a grading blade. The vehicle sputtered and its engine ground as if in pain. Every few seconds black smoke belched from the exhaust pipe.

The head of maintenance, wearing coveralls and a greasy, billed cap, grinned at her. “Howdy, Ms. Duke. I told the colonel I could get this old girl running.”

Janine swept her gaze over the yard. Tools, gasoline jugs, engine parts and a barrel of grease littered the ground. Discomfited by the junkyard appearance, she glanced at Daniel. He seemed interested in the tractor.

“I appreciate you getting it running again, Juan,” she said. She swept out a hand. “But you can’t leave the yard looking like this.”

The man seated inside the cab shouted over the engine noise. “We gotta get those trails scraped, ma’am. The colonel wants it done today. With the old tractor running we don’t have to hire Kendricks. He’s a robber. Charges an arm and a leg.”

Wiping his hands on a rag, Juan said, “Randy is right, ma’am. We got to work those trails. Don’t be worrying none. We’ll set this place right before sunset.”

The garage wasn’t visible from the lodge, and guests had no reason to come back here. If she hadn’t been so boastful about showing off the grounds, she wouldn’t mind the mess.

“The engine sounds terrible,” she said. “Are you sure it’ll make it up the hills?”

Juan laughed. “She’s a real monster, ma’am. Now that she’s running, she’ll go anywhere. Especially with me riding shotgun for Randy.” He turned his toothy smile on Daniel. Questions sparkled in his eyes.

As if in answer, Daniel hugged her waist and pressed his cheek briefly against hers. “It sounds great to me, cupcake.” He thrust out his right hand. “Daniel Tucker. Janine is showing me the place. I’m impressed. You’re the man who maintains the grounds for my little sweetie here?”

“Juan Hernandez.” He pumped Daniel’s hand. His cheeks reddened as if he were about to burst into laughter. “I keep the machines running. Nice meeting you.” Juan turned for the tractor. His coveralls sagged with the weight of tools in every pocket. He climbed into the cab with Randy.

Janine watched the vehicle lumber out of the yard. Realizing Daniel had left her she turned around. He peered inside the garage. “Over-the-top is one thing,” she said. “But is calling me goofy names truly necessary?”

He flashed her a boyish smile. He gestured excitedly inside the garage. “Is that what I think it is?”

Men, she thought wearily. Did they never outgrow their delight with ridiculous toys? Even her father, a man in his seventies, collected firearms, golf clubs and military memorabilia as avidly as a six-year-old collected action figures. She followed Daniel into the garage.

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. The place smelled of mice, motor oil and rotting wood. The narrow windows set high near the ceiling held ancient glass coated with dust, grease and spiderwebs. For years she’d been begging her father to tear down this building and replace it with a proper maintenance garage. For years he’d been telling her he’d get around to it. She was beginning to believe he secretly reveled in this small corner of disorder in his otherwise highly structured world.

Daniel rubbed both hands over the flat hood of the colonel’s Jeep.

“It’s from World War II,” she explained. “The colonel is restoring it. He’s been hauling it around for more years than I can remember.”

He climbed behind the steering wheel. “This is cool. I love old cars.”

She had a distinct feeling the colonel was going to adore Daniel. The idea scratched her already-raw nerves. Elliot wanted to meet her family, but she kept finding excuses to put him off. She knew the colonel would dismiss Elliot, a patent attorney, as a paper pusher. She doubted if Elliot would like her father, either. As quirky as Elliot was, he was rather intolerant of the quirks of others.

Even in the wan light Daniel’s face glowed as he examined the dashboard and stick shift. He made engine noises. The colonel would definitely like him.

“Mr. Tucker.”

He paused in his exploration. His grin was pure evil. “It really turns me on when you say my name like that.”

She leveled on him her iciest glare. “Is that supposed to reduce me to giggles?”

“Only if you think it’s funny.”

“I don’t.”

He turned on the seat so his feet rested on the running board. “What do you find funny? Is Elliot funny?”

Startled by his mention of Elliot, she drew warily aside. She didn’t like the inane idea that Daniel could read her mind. “This has nothing to do with Elliot. This has to do with your disrespectful attitude toward me.”

He sat straighter and frowned. “I don’t mean disrespect. It’s just that a beautiful woman like you—”

She thrust up a hand, her palm rigid. “Stop right there. I didn’t take this face out of a drawer and put it on just so you can get your jollies.”

He shrugged. It might have been a sheepish gesture, except his expression was anything but contrite. He looked at her the way a soldier eyed an enemy bunker—he saw a challenge. Her scalp tightened.

He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, putting them nearly nose to nose. His nearness disturbed her. His alluring scent was even worse. Males didn’t affect her—she didn’t allow them to affect her.

Daniel Tucker affected her. She wanted to touch his face and explore the texture of his sensual mouth. An absurd impulse rose to plant her hands on his knees just to see how he’d react.

“Explain to me how it is you can date a guy for years and keep it casual.”

The air grew heavy and close. She wanted to peel out of her heavy coat A funny tingle began at the backs of her knees, creeping upward. She ordered herself to think about something else. Elliot—she couldn’t even remember what he looked like at the moment. Pinky. That broke her spell. She lifted her chin. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”

“How serious are you about him?”

She saw it now. He thought he could bed her. Even worse, naughty little speculations about his sexual prowess popped uninvited, and unwanted, into her head.

He is not desirable, she told herself firmly. He was not sexy. He was a caricature, a conceited ass—a playboy who traded on his good looks. A jerk who thought she should be flattered he deigned to hit on her. He was probably a lousy lover, too.

“I can see I’ve made a mistake. I’ll take care of the problem by myself. Send me a bill for your travel expenses. I’ll pay it promptly.” She turned for the door.

Daniel had her by the arm before she even realized he’d moved. She stiffened.

“You need me,” he said.

“I most certainly do not.”

“What did I do wrong?”

She jerked her arm from his grasp. “Making passes at me is not part of the plan. I won’t tolerate it.”

“Okay, okay. I’m guilty of finding you fascinating and beautiful. But that’s no crime. You make it sound crude.”

“It is crude and offensive. Now go home. You’re fired.”

The door slammed shut, pitching the garage into darkness. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she muttered, then louder, “Hey! There’s somebody in here.”

She headed for the door. A loud snap stopped her mid-step. That could not have been the lock in the hasp. Yelling again, she rushed to the door. It refused to budge no matter how hard she pushed on the handle. She slammed her fist against the door. The metal clanged dully.

Daniel shoved his shoulder against the door, but the steel door and hinges didn’t budge. She yelled at whomever had locked the door to unlock it. She heard shoes crunching gravel outside, but he or she refused to answer her cries.

Daniel strained to lift the huge tracked door.

“It’s locked,” she said. “You’ll never budge it.” Either the person outside was completely deaf or else he’d deliberately locked them inside the garage. She pounded on the door until her fists ached.

A splashing noise made her stop pounding. She lowered her gaze to her shoes where liquid seeped beneath the door. The sick-sweet stench of gasoline made her gag. Daniel must have smelled it, too, because he grabbed her arm and dragged her backward.

“Open that door!” she screamed. “Open it right now!”

A dull whoosh answered. Stunned she stared as fingers of bluish flame flickered under the door. Smoke seeped through the cracks in the wooden wall.

“Well, cupcake,” Daniel said, his voice eerily calm. “Looks like you actually do need me.”

Dried out by winter winds the wooden garage caught fire with astonishing speed. Thick black smoke filled the interior. Coughing and gagging, she pulled the collar of her coat over her mouth and nose.

“Is there another way out?” He grabbed her arm and dragged her across the floor. They stumbled over cans, boxes and tools. She stubbed her toes and banged her shins in her haste to escape the flames.

She pointed at windows she could barely see through the smoke. “They’re too small. We’re trapped!”

The horrendous noise was as frightening as the increasing heat and smoke. Rushing and crackling, the flames sounded like a ravenous beast gnawing through the wooden walls. Outside, people were shouting. Something clanged against the tracked garage door. Janine screamed to let them know she and Daniel were trapped. Her throat and lungs burned.

Daniel practically jerked her off her feet. He grabbed a box that sat against a wall and tossed it aside. He was a shadow creature tearing through debris. Without knowing why he acted as he did she relied on instinct and helped toss aside boxes and cans. Smoke blacked out the light from the windows and flames. She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were afire. Tears streamed from her burning eyes. She lost all sense of direction. A box slipped from her weakening fingers and dropped on her foot. She barely acknowledged the pain. She wanted out. Away from the flames and the smoke and the horrible noise.

“Watch out!” Daniel yelled. He caught her arm and shook her. “Don’t move.”

She sensed more than saw him whirl. He kicked the wooden wall. Wood snapped with a resounding crack. He kicked it again and then a third time. Daylight glimmered beyond the smoke. He shoved a broken plank, twisting it until the fastening nails gave way.

He shoved her into the hole. Her coat caught. Wood squeezed her shoulders and hips and a protruding nail caught her scalp. She wriggled and squirmed, aided by Daniel pushing her from behind.

She popped free and went sprawling onto her hands and knees. She choked and gagged. Her tortured throat felt as if sandpaper scraped it raw. Hands helped her off the gravel. Excited voices swirled around her. She tried to tell people Daniel was still inside, but only a croak emerged.

People dragged her out of the yard, away from the garage which was now burning out of control. Sparks and cinders and ash drifted like hot snow. People used hoses and buckets of water to fight the flames. She struggled to rise, but hands held her down on a patch of frozen grass. Unable to see more than a blur of faces and bodies she gulped sweet, fresh air into her aching lungs.

“Hey, cupcake.” Daniel dropped onto the grass beside her.

With a cry, she hugged him. He pulled her onto his lap and held her as if he never meant to let her go. He stank of smoke. His arms felt wonderful. Grateful he’d survived, she buried her face against his neck and sobbed in relief.

By the time the volunteer fire department trucks arrived, the garage had burned nearly to the ground. Resort employees had managed to prevent the fire from spreading to nearby trees and buildings, but the garage and its contents were a complete loss. A pall of dark smoke hovered over the resort. The stench of burned rubber and chemicals filled the air.

“Janine!” Kara dropped to her knees and hugged both Janine and Daniel.

“I’m okay,” Janine croaked. It hurt to talk. She coughed. “We’re okay.”

Soot blackened Daniel’s face. His eyes glittered like burnished flint. She knew what he was thinking, because she was thinking the same thing herself. Pinky would pay for this.

It was nearly midnight before Janine finished with the paramedics and the sheriff. The paramedics had wanted to transport her to a hospital. Along with smoke inhalation she had a gash in her forehead from a rusty nail. She’d allowed them to bandage the cut and to treat her with a few whiffs of oxygen to clear her lungs, but refused to leave the resort. She told the sheriff about the stalker. He kept asking whether she was sure she didn’t know who Pinky was, as though if he asked enough times she would suddenly know. His attitude said there was something wrong with her. A few of his questions made her think he blamed her for goading Pinky into setting the fire.

She retreated to her bedroom. She immediately jumped into the shower as much to rid herself of humiliation as to wash away the stench of smoke.

She’d hated Pinky before. She absolutely, with all her heart and soul, detested him now.

A knock on the door made her freeze. Her heart seemed to rattle in her chest. She clutched her robe at her throat. “Who is it?”

“Daniel.”

She opened the door. Smiling, he hoisted the tray he carried. He’d showered and changed his clothing, looking none the worse for their ordeal. A leather carryall was slung over his shoulder. Glad for a friendly face, she invited him inside.

“Your sister made us some food. Sandwiches, salad. Chocolate cake.” He winked. “Bourbon. I could use a drink. How about you?”

She usually didn’t drink more than an occasional glass of wine. At the moment she wouldn’t overly object to getting good and sloshy drunk. “How are you?”

“Still tasting smoke, but I’m okay.” He dropped the bag on the floor, set the tray on a table and poured generous quantities of bourbon into a pair of crystal tumblers. “Take it neat, tough girl?”

“Not that tough. Ice and water, please.” She fiddled with the neckline of her robe. Made of heavy satin it covered her from neck to toes, but she was all too aware of her nakedness underneath. Her skin was still warm and damp from the long shower she’d taken, and the fabric clung to her hips. She watched his hands while he mixed the drinks and uncovered the food and snapped out linen napkins.

He’d saved her life. He’d risked having the roof fall on his head while making sure she’d gotten out of the garage first. Her throat choked up.

He handed her a drink. “Nice room. Looks like you.”

She wondered what he meant by that. Years as an army brat had turned her into a minimalist as far as possessions were concerned. She had little interest in knickknacks. The room was rather plain, with mauve-painted walls enlivened by framed fine-art prints. The furniture was functional; her only concessions to luxury were the designer linens on the bed. She caught him peering at a stack of paperback novels. She loved sexy historical romances, gory horror stories and trashy Hollywood glitzy sagas. His interest discomfited her.

She sipped the bourbon and water. The alcohol burned her throat, but warmed her belly. He was the first man, other than a relative, who’d ever been inside her private room.

A man who’d risked his life to save hers. “I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

She picked up a sandwich. It was too late to eat, but her stomach gurgled indelicately. “Back in the garage. When I fired you.”

“I’m fired?” His sunny good humor teased a smile from her.

She should fire him. He was obnoxious...he’d saved her life. “I don’t appreciate men making passes at me. Especially when I have a job to do.”

He regarded her. “I stepped out of line.”

“You did.”

“Can I plead temporary insanity?”

She bit into the sandwich before he caught her smiling.

“Sorry about your head.” His fingertips grazed the bandage. Even that light touch made her wince. “I didn’t have time to check for nails.”

“I’m thankful you figured out how to get us out. I was starting to panic. I never would have thought of breaking through the wall.”

“Breaking boards is my specialty.” He flashed a cocky grin. “It drives the chicks wild.”

A laugh burst free before she could stop it. She quickly gained control. “Sit down and eat.”

“How did the cops do with the interviews?”

Good humor fled. “The sheriff doesn’t believe me about Pinky. He acted as if I’m deliberately concealing Pinky’s identity. Or that it’s somehow my fault the garage burned down.”

“Humph. I should have warned you. Cops have a bad habit of forgetting who the victim is. Did I tell you my stalker had me arrested?”

“You mentioned it.” Appetite gone, she set the sandwich on the plate. She eyed her drink, seriously considering the oblivion alcohol offered.

“Buck up. We’ll catch him. He’ll get tagged with attempted murder and arson.”

She didn’t see how. Nobody claimed to have seen anyone hanging around the garage before the fire. Nobody confessed to setting the blaze. Anger washed through her. “I gave Pinky’s letters and cards to the sheriff. He probably thinks they’re cute. Like mash notes from a teenager.”

He chewed thoughtfully on a steak and cheese sandwich. He toyed with a pickle spear. “One good thing. Pinky isn’t worried about your father anymore. My plan is working out great.”

“I am so relieved,” she said dryly. The fire today was going to seem like a picnic compared to how the colonel was going to react when he found out she’d been concealing her problem with Pinky. “What if he decides to set the lodge on fire?”

He ate half the sandwich before he wiped his mouth with a napkin and replied. “I doubt it. Yeah, he lost it at the garage, but there was a lot of temptation. Gas cans sitting around. You and me alone in a private place. I have a feeling he reacted before he realized he could hurt you.”

The door drew her gaze. As a precaution the sheriff had assigned a deputy to patrol the resort. She wished for an occupying army. “What if he knows you’re in here right now?”

“No gas cans sitting in the hallway.”

“Don’t be flippant. He tried to murder us.”

He reached across the small table and placed a hand over hers. Her breath caught in her throat. When he joked around and acted like a chauvinistic clown, she found him easy to dismiss as just another conceited, too-big-for-his-britches playboy. With his eyes gazing steadily into hers he appeared somehow dangerous. And sexy. Her belly did a little flip-flop.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Janine.” He squeezed her fingers.

“Who will make sure nothing happens to you?”

His smile caught her off guard. “Why, cupcake, I do believe you care.” Chuckling, he returned his attention to the food. “Don’t you worry about me.”

It bothered her deeply that she was doing exactly that. “In any case, you’ve done your job. I thank you with all my heart. But it is time for you to leave.”

“I haven’t finished my sandwich.”

“I was thinking about in the morning.”

He made a dismissive sound. “I thought I wasn’t fired.”

“The police are involved now. They’ll find Pinky. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here.”

“If Pinky runs me off, then he’ll get the idea that violence is the answer to his problems.”

“He wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t count on it. Since he attacked in broad daylight he doesn’t care about witnesses. It’s plain dumb luck nobody saw him.”

She clamped her arms over her bosom and focused on him her most frigid glare.

“Look at this situation from his point of view. You’re his goddess, the love of his life. He needs an excuse to justify his own cowardice. Who do you want him to blame, me or your dad?”

“But the police—”

“He may very well be a sociopath and capable of lying convincingly to the police.” He freshened her drink with a splash of bourbon. “We can’t let him think for a second that he can control you with violence.”

Sickening visions of Pinky murdering her father turned her shaky inside.

“You can’t placate these nuts. You can’t let them take control. You have to push back, fight back. No amount of wishing makes them go away.”

“How am I supposed to fight back when I don’t even know who he is?”

“Don’t let him run me off.”

If it were only her own safety at risk, she would argue. She would accept the protection offered by the police and suffer Pinky’s harassment. But if Pinky could so blithely attempt to burn her to death, who knew what he’d do to her father. “I’m scared if we make him mad he’ll hurt the colonel.”

“I’ll keep him so busy he won’t even think about your dad. I promise.” He yawned mightily and covered his mouth with his hand. “Sorry.”

“You must be exhausted. I’ll show you to your room. It’s just down the hall.”

“I’m staying here.” He jerked a thumb at the door. “Rustle me up a blanket and share a few pillows. I’ll be fine on the floor.”

Awareness of her nakedness under the robe warmed her blood. She wished Daniel did look like Raymond Burr, preferably grossly overweight. “Is that necessary?”

“It is until we know for certain Pinky doesn’t have access to room keys.” He shifted on the chair and reached to his side. A fastener snapped. He placed a handgun on the table.

Her eyebrows raised. The colonel had taught all his children weapons safety and how to shoot. Still, the sight of such compact deadliness dismayed her. “A Luger 9 mm. Nice. Do you have a concealed carry permit?”

His sudden smile dazzled her. For a scant second she forgot Pinky and the handgun. Nothing mattered except the powerful warmth of his smile. If only he weren’t such a conceited jackass....

“The lady knows peashooters. I think I’m in love. And yes, I have a concealed carry permit. Who other than you has a key to this room?”

“My mother.”

“Is there a master key?”

She winced. “Yes.”

“Prepare a pallet then, woman. I’m your guard dog tonight.”


Chapter Four

At 5:00 a.m. on the dot Janine awakened. She glared at the clock. Around three in the morning she’d snapped wide awake. It had finally hit her—Pinky had tried to murder her. Shaking with chills despite the sweat suit she wore to bed, she’d spent the rest of the night hugging a pillow and listening for the beastly roar of flames. She’d finally drifted back to sleep, but habit awakened her. No amount of exhaustion would allow her to go back to sleep now.

Groggy and irritable, she tiptoed around in the dark so as not to disturb Daniel. By feel she selected slacks, a sweater and a blazer and carried them into the bathroom. She glumly studied her face in the mirror. The scratch on her head was reddened and inflamed. It hurt to touch it. No way would she consider putting makeup atop the wound. “Not so gorgeous now,” she muttered. She hoped Pinky got a good look at her “perfect” face today and felt bad about it.

After she showered, dried her hair and dressed, she opened the door a crack and peered out. She couldn’t see Daniel in the darkness. She wanted to let him sleep, but she had a resort to run.

“Too late to awaken me with a kiss.”

She choked back a scream. He turned on the table lamp. Seated with a foot on his knee and his hands clasped behind his neck, he grinned at her.

Despite heavy beard shadow and messy hair, he looked as if he’d enjoyed the sleep of innocents. Her grouchy mood darkened further. “I thought you were still asleep.”

“With you stomping around? For such a petite woman you sure do make a lot of noise. I could swear you don’t weigh more than one-twenty, but I guess you’re packing a lot more than that under your clothes.”

She chuffed a harsh breath. “I will have you know—” She shut her mouth, too late realizing he teased her.

He dropped his foot to the floor and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “We’re both early risers. We have a lot in common.”

“We have nothing in common.” She looked pointedly at her watch. “I have work to do. If you’re going to play bodyguard, you have exactly fifteen minutes to grab a shower.”

He snatched up his bag and scooted into the bathroom. She gathered the blankets and pillows off the floor. She pressed a pillow to her nose. It smelled of soap and shampoo, and it roused memories of sex. She groaned and tossed the pillow onto the bed. Celibate for years, she usually didn’t think about sex. She especially didn’t want to think about sex in conjunction with Daniel Tucker.

He was ready to go in ten minutes.

Downstairs the resort staff had already swung into high gear for another busy day. Clanging, banging, rattling and Chef’s temperamental shouting emerged from the kitchen along with the aroma of baking bread and roasting meats. Housekeepers loaded up carts with cleaning supplies. Janine wondered which one of them had tried to burn her to death in a stinky old garage. Everyone looked guilty.

She stopped in the kitchen to fill a carafe with coffee before she and Daniel went to her office. Her phone began ringing before she had a chance to sit down. Maintenance wanted her approval to begin cleaning up the burn site. A reporter wanted details about the fire. Guest services needed advice about what to tell guests who were upset about the rumors of arson. Between calls she logged invoices into the computer. Daniel sat quietly on a small sofa, moving only to refill her coffee cup. She appreciated his silence.

A knock startled her. Hot coffee splashed her hand and she cursed under her breath. She noticed Daniel sliding a hand over the bulge of the holster on his hip. She called, “Come in.”

A man showed a badge and introduced himself as Walt Helmsley, an investigator with the state police. Another man materialized in the doorway behind the investigator. Glad to see the sheriffs department uniform and a friendly face, Janine smiled in welcome.

“Daniel Tucker,” she said, “Mr. Helmsley and Sergeant Mike Downes.” She diverted her telephone calls to voice mail. “Gentleman, I’ve hired Mr. Tucker to help me find the stalker. I can’t recall everyone I talked to yesterday. Do you know about Pinky?”

“The sheriff briefed us,” Mike said. His expression radiated concern. As an old friend of the family, the deputy sheriff had a personal stake in what happened at Elk River. “I want to hear it from you. Start over from the beginning.” He and the state police investigator brought out pens and notebooks.

She began with losing her organizer book and ended with why she had hired Daniel. She thought repeated telling should get easier. It did not. The story sounded stupid. She felt stupid.

Mike’s forehead knit as if he felt angry as well as concerned. He glanced at Daniel then back to her. “Why didn’t you come to me, Janine? I take threats against the colonel seriously.”

Relieved he didn’t follow the sheriff’s lead in blaming her for Pinky, she said, “I didn’t want the police involved.”

“I’m a friend, too.” He sounded hurt.

Catching herself pulling her hair, she dropped her hand onto the desk. She toyed with a paper clip. “I didn’t want the colonel to know. He doesn’t need the stress. It’s a private problem. Was a private problem.”

“Colonel?” Helmsley asked.

“My father, Colonel Horace Duke. I thought I could handle this on my own.”

“You could have been killed.” Mike turned a heated glare on Daniel. “Your little plan is stupid, sir. And dangerous.”

Daniel arched an eyebrow. His expression remained otherwise neutral. “Seems to me my plan is working out exactly the way I intended. What do you know about erotomania, Sergeant?”

Mike and the investigator exchanged a puzzled look.

“It’s a mental disorder,” Daniel explained. “A delusional fixation on another person as a love object. Read love letters written by thirteen-year-olds and you’ll get a glimpse into the kind of thought processes we’re dealing with. Except this guy is an adult and he’s willing to act out his fantasies. If you guys intend to catch Pinky, you need to get educated.”

“Are you a shrink?” Mike was openly hostile now.

“Just a regular guy who’s devoted the past five years of his life to stopping stalkers.” He grinned at the investigator. “And no, you guys haven’t heard of me. I keep a low profile. No press, no advertising. If you want to check me out, contact Gail Porter with the El Paso County district attorney’s office. She’s referred several clients to me.”

“I don’t know if you’re qualified or not,” Mike said. “I know for darned sure you’re endangering your life. Not to mention Janine’s life!”

“I’m doing nothing illegal.”

“Interfering with an investigation and obstructing justice are illegal.”

Daniel showed both palms. “I’m not doing either of those. You guys have my blessing to arrest Pinky. You won’t hear a peep out of me.”

“Mike,” Janine said. “Mr. Helmsley. Mr. Tucker is not the problem. Pinky is. I apologize for not calling you, Mike. In hindsight, you’re absolutely correct. But, I suggest we focus on the matter at hand and worry about who is right or wrong later.”

“Ma’am, Mr. Tucker,” Helmsley said, “stalking is against Colorado law. No offense, but civilians aren’t qualified to handle these matters.”

“No offense,” Daniel said smoothly, “neither are the cops. Pinky isn’t your run-of-the-mill firebug. He’s seriously disturbed, but he’s smart.” He jerked a thumb at Janine. “Here’s an intelligent woman. She deals with a large staff. She knows people. But Pinky sat in this office, interviewed for a job and fooled her completely. He’ll fool you, too.”

Helmsley smiled, close-lipped. “Obviously you’ve never sat across the interrogation table from me, sir.”

Daniel chuckled. “Obviously you’ve never dealt with an erotomanic stalker harboring sociopathic tendencies who uses anonymity as a weapon. Pinky isn’t scared of the cops. You’ll never rattle him.”

Janine massaged her aching temples. An island, she thought She’d buy an island and post a huge sign saying No Testosterone Allowed. “Gentlemen! Stop the bickering. It’s going nowhere. I and everyone at Elk River will cooperate fully with the police investigation.”

She found a list she’d created yesterday. She handed it over the desk to the investigator. “Here are the names of the people I’ve hired in the past six months. Mr. Tucker assures me that Pinky began working here during that time. As for Mr. Tucker, he’s staying.”

Seeing Mike forming a protest, she held up a hand and shook her head firmly. “Your goal is to arrest Pinky. Mine is to protect my father. I fail to see where our goals are incompatible.”

Mike cast an unhappy glance at Daniel. “Provoking Pinky is a mistake, Janine.”

“He’s already provoked. If Mr. Tucker is dumb enough to set himself up as a target, then I will let him continue for as long as it keeps the colonel safe.”

“Dumb?” Daniel mouthed silently. He made a face at her.

“I also ask that you gentlemen cooperate with me. As far as anyone else is concerned, Mr. Tucker is my boyfriend. Nothing more.”

She ended the interview. After she saw them out of the office, she pawed through her desk drawers in search of aspirin.

“So you think I’m dumb, huh?” Daniel asked, grinning.

“I hold serious doubts about the intelligence of anyone who paints a target on his forehead. I wish you wouldn’t fight with the police, either. Especially Mike. He’s an old friend.” She swallowed two aspirin then chased them with a slug of coffee.

“Your friend doesn’t know what he’s dealing with.”

“He’s an experienced law officer.” She stared glumly at her telephone. The message indicator flashed.

“As long as they don’t get in my way.”

The door opened and Kara poked her head inside.

“Knock first,” Janine snapped. She pressed a fist over her pounding heart.

“Sorry. Are you okay?” She flashed an adoring smile at Daniel.

“I’m busy right now. What do you want?”

Kara made a hissy noise through her teeth. “You don’t need to bite my head off. I just wanted to tell you breakfast is ready. Chef made those caramel rolls you like so much.”

Janine laid her head on her folded arms. Frazzled nerves or not, she had no right to take it out on her sister.

“I’m sorry,” she called, but Kara was already gone. Rolling her eyes in self-disgust, she rose. Daniel’s too-bland face annoyed her. “In case you were wondering, the answer is Yes, I’m always a grump. Especially in the morning.”

“I wasn’t wondering. But thanks for the warning.”

“Are you always this chipper and perky?”

“Without fail.”

In the family dining room the heady aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air. The comfortable room and mouth-watering scents soothed her frazzled nerves. Her appetite roared to life. Seeing Kara acting extra careful, her shame deepened. She hated her hot temper and tendency toward snappishness. She worked hard at allowing petty annoyances to roll off her back, she longed for sweet serenity, but those seemed like impossible goals to reach. “I’m sorry for yelling. You didn’t deserve it.”

Kara passed off the apology with a careless wave. “No problem.” She faced Daniel. “And you!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. “You saved Ninny’s life. I’m so glad you’re here!”

A trace of color appeared on his cheekbones. He hovered a hand over Kara’s back then patted between her shoulder blades. His sheepish expression fascinated Janine. He couldn’t possibly be embarrassed.

Janine glanced at the doorway then lowered her voice. “Listen,” she told Kara, “there’s something you need to know.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Why didn’t you tell me you had a stalker? I never knew your life was in danger. How long has this been going on?”

Janine indicated the sideboard. Serving bowls and covered hot trays held the food. “Help yourself, Daniel.”

“Well?” Kara asked. She selected the biggest caramel roll and plopped it onto Daniel’s plate.

Janine hesitated. Many of Kara’s best friends were staff members—any of whom could be Pinky. “You have to swear that what I tell you doesn’t go beyond this room.”

“What about Ross and Megan?”

At the mention of her brother and other sister Janine winced. She envisioned the entire family swarming in to do battle. “You didn’t call them, did you?”

Kara lifted a shoulder. “I did, but Ross is out of town and Megan is helping Tristan feed cows.”

“No more calls.” Keeping an eye on the doorway, Janine told her tale. Telling it still wasn’t easy. Kara’s show of horror made it worse. By the time she finished, Daniel had refilled his plate and Kara had eaten her breakfast. Janine managed to choke down some fruit, oatmeal and part of a caramel roll.

“Erotomania?” Kara whispered. “Is he a rapist? A pervert?”

Daniel answered. “It’s a love fixation, not sexual desire. If Pinky was a pervert, Janine would know it by now. I dealt with one—”

“Please,” Janine interrupted. “I’ve heard enough stories to give me nightmares for a year. Take his word for it, Kara.”

Kara wagged a finger between her sister and Daniel. “So you guys aren’t really dating. It’s all a trick to get this Pinky guy to show himself?”

“Right.”

The young woman popped a piece of roll in her mouth and chewed, her expression thoughtful. “Wait a minute! I know who you are. You’re J.T.’s boss. You own the karate studios. Frankie told me about you.”

“The studios are a sideline. Stopping stalkers is what I do.”

Janine recognized the gleam in Kara’s eyes. Kara loved people without discrimination. She especially loved good-looking men. No doubt she was, at this very moment, figuring out a way to date Daniel. Seated side by side at the table, they made a stunning couple. Janine cleared her throat, loudly.

“He has a job to do. I need your cooperation.”

“I’m happy to do anything you need.” She directed the words toward Daniel.

I bet you are, Janine thought.

Kara sobered. “The colonel won’t like this, Ninny.”

Well aware of how her father would react, Janine said nothing.

A knock caused all three to look toward the doorway. Janine recognized a maintenance worker. “Yes, Jason, what can I do for you?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am.” Hands shoved in his pockets, he lingered under the doorway. “Mr. Hernandez asked me to find you. A guy showed up at the garage. Says he’s from the EPA.”

The Environmental Protection Agency, Janine thought with an inner groan. Bureau of Land Management property and national forest surrounded the resort. The EPA kept a close eye on any potential contaminants or environmental hazards. They were going to demand an accounting of every single chemical burned inside the garage.

“Tell Juan to send the gentleman to my office.”

Jason nodded and scooted away.

“How long has Jason worked here?” Daniel asked.

“I hired him in November.” Janine smiled. “But he isn’t Pinky.”

Kara’s laughter echoed the sentiment.

“Why not?”

“For one thing, he’s only a kid. For another, he’s a very sweet boy. He works hard and Juan likes him. He says Jason is a mechanical wizard.”

“We’ll see.” Daniel filled his cup with fresh coffee.

Janine didn’t like his tone of voice. Her own paranoia about her staff was bad enough—to have two of them peering suspiciously at people who were doing their jobs was too much.

An unmistakable voice rang in the hall, approaching the dining room. Janine stiffened. Breakfast felt like a brick in her belly. No time to argue with Daniel now. She had other problems. Her father was home.

Relegated to the background, Daniel observed the Dukes. His first impression was that Colonel Horace Duke didn’t look as if he were seventy-seven years old. His hair was silver, but he had a lot of it. Ruddy-faced, lean and muscular, he stood well over six feet tall and carried himself as if steel instead of bone formed his spine. He had a big, booming voice. His pale blue eyes radiated fearsome light. He appeared as hale and hearty as he did in the numerous photographs covering the dining room wall above the sideboard.

Elise Duke hugged her daughters and inquired about their health. Sleek and ageless, she didn’t look motherly, but her demeanor certainly was. She used both hands to grasp Daniel’s hand in greeting and he fell headfirst into her aura of charm. A funny pang centered below his breast bone. As a kid, he’d spent many hours fantasizing about having a mother exactly like Elise.

“Sit down, Colonel,” Janine said. She stood nearly nose to nose with her father, but twisted a hank of hair so hard Daniel was surprised she didn’t have a bald spot. “I can’t think with you trying to bully me into a corner.”

Elise touched her husband’s arm. “She’s right, dear. We’re all upset about the fire, but it’s time to speak rationally. And peacefully. Do sit down.”

The colonel blustered, but he sat. Kara filled his coffee cup and served him breakfast while Janine told her tale. Daniel admired her delivery. She spoke calmly and clearly, pausing whenever her father interrupted, but then continued without breaking her line of logic. He figured if they ever got Pinky into a courtroom, his defense lawyers would drive themselves crazy trying to rattle Janine.




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