"The less you know the better, trust me," Ben said.

Kyle walked them to the parking lot, and while Ben stowed AUie's belongings in the trunk of the Trans Am, the younger man pulled out a pad and a pen and jotted something down. He tore off the paper and handed it to Jessie. "Would you let me know when you find her? Or have her call me? Considering what Ben just said, I'm more worried than ever. And now that she's not working here anymore, I, uh, wouldn't want to lose touch."

Jessie folded the paper and placed it in her purse. "Of course," she said. "Thank you for all your trouble, Kyle. I'll be sure to let Allie know what a big help you've been."

Kyle colored, and he glanced down at the ground. "I wish I could do more."

Jessie liked this young man. She hoped some sweet woman more his age would grab his attention before long; there was no way Allie might return his tender feelings. "My sister is lucky to have your friendship," she said.

She couldn't say mote without embarrassing him. Anyway, Ben didn't give her a chance. He added his thanks to Jessie's, and hurried her into the car.

"The boy's in love," Ben remarked as they eased into traffic.

"It seems so, doesn't it?" Jessie's eyes fell on the letter in her hand. Quickly she strapped herself in and turned the envelope to the flap side.' "Allie has collected a lot of hearts in her day.''

"No more than you, surely."

She shook her head, tore open the envelope and pulled out a folded sheet of notepaper, her mind only marginally on their conversation. "We may look alike, but inside we couldn't be more different. I don't have Allie's confidence."

It took only seconds to peruse her sister's message.

Jessie-Sorry about Thanksgiving and all this cloak-and-dagger stuff, but it's necessary. Please do exactly what I tell you, sis. You mustn't stay in Port Mangus tonight. You could be in danger. Go back to Oak Park immediately, and I'll call you at home as soon as I can. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I'll explain everything when I call.

Love, A

Disappointed, Jessie sank back into the seat. Ben had maintained an obliging silence as she read, but now he glanced curiously at the paper she held.

"What does it say?"

"Nothing helpful." She read the note aloud.

"See there?" he said when she'd finished. "Didn't I tell you she could probably take care of herself?"

"Yes, but we still don't know where she is or what she's doing. And what about that girl Kyle said was with her? There are so many unanswered questions." Jessie sighed, refolded the letter and put it into her purse.

"Well, my guess is we'll know soon enough what she's up to," Ben said absently. "Damn. Would you look at all these cars?"

Jessie glanced out the window at the streets of downtown Sheboygan. Christmas decorations hung everywhere, reminding her that this was the first shopping day of the Christmas season. Heavy traffic demanded all Ben's attention.

It was hard to read his mood this morning. Following yesterday's clash of wills, they had both been scrupulously polite. When they talked at all. Jessie hadn't raised any further objections about staying in the cabin. Nor had she squabbled about ordering in another pizza at dinnertime, or taking the bed again instead of the couch.

She hadn't wanted to do any of those things. But she'd decided that even though physical proximity had been forced upon them, emotional distance, at least, was essential after what had nearly happened yesterday. And since arguments required a certain amount of personal involvement, they were to be avoided at all costs, no matter how he provoked her.

By silent agreement they had put aside their differences for their visit to the Sentinel. Jessie remembered how he'd put his arm around her and called her "Jess" in that casually intimate way. Of course, he was just doing his job. Kyle would have been suspicious if he'd suspected they were at odds.

Firmly Jessie took herself in hand. She was right to keep her distance. When they were alone, any interaction with Ben beyond the most superficial wasn't worth the risk. She knew now how quickly and effortlessly anger could be converted into passion.

Contrarily, it bothered her that Ben hadn't shown any inclination to break through the barriers she'd erected since their argument. Certainly one part of her—the rational part—knew the pull between them was better left a question mark. But the dreamy idealist inside thrilled to the power of Ben's kisses and the touch of his hands on her body. She had never known such abandon before.

Her books were full of it, of course. She blessed every one of her heroines with a perfect partner who knew how to draw every last ounce of response from his woman and leave her blissfully sated. But that was fiction, the product of Jessie's own fairy-tale imaginings.

So she had thought. But twice now in Ben's arms she had felt herself on the precipice of a glorious realm of physical discovery that promised—or threatened—to change her forever. The frightening thing was that under the influence of Ben's compelling kisses, her instinct was to jump with heedless joy right over the edge. Yesterday, in fact, the only thing stopping her from succumbing to that urge was his restraint.

That was the problem. While every nerve in her body had screamed for more, Ben had pulled back. Humiliated and resentful, Jessie concluded she had been more overwhelmed than he. His greater control had given him the upper hand, something she'd vowed, after her divorce, never to grant another man.

It wasn't that Jessie was either an ardent feminist or a man hater. As miserable as it had been, her marriage hadn't put her off men altogether; she was wise enough to know that her ex-husband didn't represent his whole sex. She still planned to have a husband and children someday. Somewhere in the world

the right man was waiting for her. And when fate dropped him into her lap, she would devote herself to making him happy.

But it was glaringly evident Ben wasn't the right man, any more than Antonio had been. Unwisely she'd forgotten Ed's advice. Ben's insulting insinuation that she would be willing to wait for him until he had time for her was confirmation that his partner knew him well. His job would come before any woman.

To Jessie, that attitude was worse than the way he bossed her around. She wouldn't settle again for anything less than first place in her man's life. A smart woman didn't make the same mistake twice.

Lucky for her, Ben's work right now was in Port Mangus, so after today, no further contact with him would be necessary. With a hundred and fifty-plus miles separating them, Jessie would be able to get on with her life and forget all about him. She had her work to keep her sufficiently occupied.

She had just completed her latest manuscript, Angel's Tread, and sent it to her agent two days ago. Ideas for her next book had been brewing for weeks while she'd finished Sydney's tale, and soon she would be embroiled in a new plot with new characters, and there wouldn't be time to think about what might have been. She was better off not knowing what she was missing.

And if her hormones regretted the loss, well, she would simply choose to ignore them.

Ben mumbled something unintelligible under his breath. Jessie noticed him glancing frequently into both the windshield and side mirrors as he drove. Too frequently?

"What?" she asked, alarmed. "Is someone following us?"

Ben grabbed her arm in warning. "Don't turn around. I don't know yet. Adjust your seat belt as tight as you can, just incase."

Jessie stared straight ahead and followed his instructions. He made a right turn at the next intersection, and two blocks later he turned again.

"Damn," he muttered after yet another check of the mirrors. "Let's try one more."

The bumper-to-bumper traffic caused the maneuver into the left-turn lane to take some time, but they finally made it. Ben's

eyes were glued to the rearview mirror after he made the turn. Jessie sat tensely awaiting his judgment of the situation.

"Okay, we've got a tail," he said about halfway down the block.

"Oh, God," she said. "Is it the Chevy?"

"No, this one's a Mazda, I think, kind of a tan color, and if s just one man. He's hanging back one or two cars. Don't worry, though. We're lucky all the Christmas shoppers arc out today. I can lose him up here at the light."

Ben stopped for the yellow signal. The car behind honked angrily, but he disregarded the other driver's annoyance. They were still in the left lane, and now Ben's Trans Am was first in line for the green light.

His eyes flitted from the pedestrians crossing in front of them, to the cars passing through the intersection, to the pickup truck waiting on their right side, to the rearview mirror, and back to begin the cycle again. When the last pedestrian had cleared the hood, he eased into the crosswalk, his hands tightening on the wheel.

"Hang on "he said softly.

Now his gaze fixed on the traffic signal. The instant the light turned green, he pressed and held the horn, floored the accelerator and entered the intersection, cutting sharply in front of the startled driver of the truck.

Jessie was stunned by the move. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in her hands. Immediately her ears were filled with a cacophonous symphony of blaring horns and screeching tires. Her whole body was flung toward Ben. The twin restraints of her safety belt and harness held her in her seat, but she felt the force all the way to her bones. The acrid smell of burning rubber sifted through the mask of flesh she'd created with her fingers and bit at her nostrils.

We're going to die, she thought. Beseechingly she sent a mute prayer toward heaven.

The expected impact never came.

"It's all over, Jess. We made it," Ben said, a few seconds after the swerving motions of the car had stopped pulling at her. Only then did she uncover her face and open her eyes.

To her amazement, once again there were cars on all sides, and except for the fact they were headed in another direction, Ben's suicidal gambit might never have been executed. They'd made the illegal turn without killing anybody.

"Thank you, Lord," she whispered fervently. To Ben she said, "Is he still back there?"

"He's back there, all right—way back," he said with satisfaction. "By the time he gets out of that gridlock we left him in, he won't have the faintest idea where to find us."

Jessie drew in a huge gulp of air and exhaled slowly. "I don't think I'm cut out for this sort of thing."

Ben grinned engagingly. "You did great. Not even a squeak out of you."

"Are you kidding? My vocal cords were paralyzed in abject terror, just like the rest of me."

He chuckled.

"Nice driving, by the way," she told him.

"And a little luck," he said modestly.

It was a nice, congenial exchange, devoid of undercurrents, and Jessie welcomed it. She and Ben weren't playacting now, nor did she want to return to their earlier stiff politeness. Their many confrontations and the heated emotions that accompanied them seemed insignificant at the moment—far less important than the fact that they were alive and well.

Nothing like a little mortal danger to put things in perspective.

They picked up Jessie's car at the Piney Woods Motel and drove to Chicago in caravan with only a single stop for gasoline. The trip was uneventful, but after the morning's excitement, Jessie was reassured each time she glanced into her iearview mirror and found Ben's car following her trail like a faithful guard dog.

They made good time. In Oak Park, Ben pulled into her driveway after her and she waited for him beside her car. He got out of the Trans Am and moved toward her with a rangy, sensual gait. In the cold light of this winter day, the gold flecks lightened his direct green gaze and gave him the look of a predator, not quite tame and a little dangerous. Jessie saw the

underlying hunger there, too—hunger for her— and a tiny thrill of excitement shot through her. He was a beautiful beast.

She smiled, wondering what he'd think if she told him her thoughts. Ben hesitated in midstep, still several feet away, his eyes on her face.

"You must be glad to be home." He returned her smile with a crooked one of his own.

Jessie decided not to correct his misinterpretation of her good mood. "Oh, I am. Can I interest you in an omelet? I'm sure I left a dozen or so eggs in the fridge."

"Sure," Ben said. "I have to call the FBI office to coordinate the meeting with my boss anyway. I'll do it from here."

He brought up her bags and riffled through the box they'd taken from Allie's office while Jessie busied herself in her small kitchenette, wishing she hadn't left things so untidy.

Except for the bathroom, there were no dividing walls in the apartment. Jessie liked it that way, even though when she was in the midst of a writing frenzy, her tendency to clutter was worse than usual and she couldn't close any doors on the accumulation. She didn't have many visitors, so usually it didn't matter. Unfortunately, she had forgotten how she had left the place when she'd invited Ben up. There had been no time for housecleaning once she'd packaged up her finished manuscript, not if she was to make it to Port Mangus before Thanksgiving.

Well, it was too late now. Jessie noticed that Ben had set aside the box and was staring at her unmade bed in the far left corner of the room.

"Excuse the mess," she told him over her shoulder as she whipped the eggs. "When I'm writing, I'm not a tidy person."

Which was a true enough statement, as far as it went. Jessie didn't add that she'd been careless about housework ever since the divorce six years ago, and it had nothing to do with her writing. While she'd been married, her ex-husband had demanded that she keep their home spotless. He would become sharply critical if so much as a throw pillow was out of place.

Antonio himself, of course, had been less than a model of neatness, habitually leaving his clothes and whatever else came to hand wherever he happened to be when he was finished with them. To top it off, he had seen no inconsistency in his exact-

ing requirements of Jessie. She was his wife, and a wife picked up after her husband.

Now she looked at her unkempt apartment through Ben's eyes and decided that in this aspect she might have carried her declaration of independence from Antonio too far. Slovenliness was not an attractive trait

"The phone's on the desk by the computer," she told Ben, hoping to divert him.

He made the call from her "office," but stayed in the corner to idly scan the tides in her bookcase. "Did you write any of these?"

Inwardly Jessie cringed, but she reminded herself to answer confidently. She had nothing to be ashamed of. "The paperbacks on the third shelf from the top. I write under the pseudonym Luciana Wells."

She turned to the stove to pour the beaten eggs into a heated pan. The silence behind her meant Ben had probably taken a book down and was just realizing what kind of literature she wrote. Tfensely she waited for whatever his brand of put-down might be.

"You wrote all these?"

"Yes," she said without turning around. "I just finished number eleven before going to Allie's." She cleared her throat "That's the reason this place is such a mess. When I write I don't clean up behind myself. Sometimes, when if s going well,

I even forget to eat " Jessie stopped, aware she was on the

verge of babbling.

"I'm impressed, Jess. How long have you been writing?"

He sounded perfectly sincere. She looked at him over her shoulder. "All my life, actually, but I've only been published for a little over six years."

He sauntered toward her, thumbing through a volume—oh, Lord, which one, she wondered, feeling jittery. She was too far away to tell. Not that it mattered. All her books were romantic suspense, heavy on the romance. Jessie believed in giving her mostly female fans what they wanted.

"Looking for the good parts?" she taunted, to disguise her nervousness.

Ben looked up and raised a curious eyebrow as he closed the distance between than. "You're an intelligent woman, I as-

sume all the parts are good. I'd like to read this. Would you mind?"

Jessie returned to her eggs, feeling unaccountably defensive. He'd selected Midnight Lies, one of her most sensual offerings. "Of course I don't mind. Though I'm sure if s not your usual style of reading material."

"I admire creative people. In my business, you don't meet too many." He touched her arm lightly with the book in his hand. "Hey, Jess."

Oh, dear, there was that voice again, and calling her "Jess" to boot. The gooseflesh rose on Jessie's arms and she had to forcibly subdue the delicious sensation that shivered through her body.

Good heavens, if the man was a late-night radio announcer, he could make a fortune! He'd have all the women in Chicago panting in their beds as they listened. He'd be so popular, they'd probably syndicate him, and after that, Masters and Johnson would report a sharp rise in feminine erotic dreams and fantasies across the country, all centered around Ben Sutton's husky, evocative voice.

Jessie stirred the eggs briskly, then, realizing she was turning an omelet into scrambled eggs, slammed the spoon down on the stove and spun on her heel to face him. Wishing she didn't have to look up so far to meet his eyes, she said, "Go ahead and read it. I warn you, though, it's women's fiction. You may not like it."

Ben searched her face. "Why do I fed like I'm taking the hits for some other guy?"

The fire drained out of Jessie as she realized he was right. "Okay, guilty. My ex-husband thought my stories too earthy and trivial—too female— for a lawyer's wife. He was embarrassed to have anyone know about them, so I was forbidden to talk about my writing to any of his friends or colleagues. I suppose I'm a little touchy on the subject."

"Just a little."

The look on Ben's face was so pained Jessie laughed sheepishly. He smiled back, their eyes caught, and smiles wavered as the air between them began to throb.

"Jess..." Ben murmured.

Whatever he planned to say was lost forever when the phone rang. Jessie reluctantly excused herself and walked to the desk.

"Hello?"

"Jessie. Thank God. Where have you been?"

Her sister's anxious voice cut through the fog in Jessie's brain. "Allie?" Her two hands gripped the receiver, and she glanced back at Ben joyously. "Ben, it's Allie."

Then she noticed the smoke behind him. "Oh, no! The eggs!"

Ben turned around at her dismayed outburst and reacted instantly, grabbing the smoking skillet by its insulated handle and placing it on a nearby cutting board.

"Who's with you, Jessie? What's happening? Are you all right? Jessie!"

"If s okay now," she said into the receiver as Ben flung open a window to let the gathering smoke escape. "Just a little cooking mishap. Ben's taking care of it."

Ben said something to her over his shoulder as she spoke. Unable to make out the words above her own voice, she tucked the receiver under her chin and asked, "What?"

As he repeated whatever he had said, Allie, sounding frantic, shouted, "Ben? Who's Bra? Jessie, who's with you?"

"Take it easy, Al. I'm all right," Jessie soothed. "Hold on a sec, will you?" She put her hand over the mouthpiece. "Sorry, Ben, I couldn't hear you."

Ben stopped waving the smoke toward the window long enough to tell her again, "I said, wait a minute before you talk to her about the investigation. Make sure it's off-the-record first."

"You're joking, right?" she scoffed. "She's my sister."

"No joke, Jess," he said. "Allie's a reporter, remember, and I don't want her interfering with this case any more than she already has."

"She won't, once I tell her what's going on."

Even across the room Jessie could detect the set of Ben's jaw at her protest.

"Off-the-record, Jessie, or you can give me that phone right now, and I'll talk to her."

She clenched her teeth. He did it to her every time. Just when she was beginning to think he wasn't half-bad, he started bossing her around again.

' 'You can dump those eggs in the wastebasket under the sink, and run some water in the pan. That should get rid of the smoke faster/' she said frostily. Thai she deliberately turned her back on him.

"Okay, Allie, everything's under control now. Ben says he knows you from that club where you were working as a waitress. Did you know he's a policeman? Why didn't you tell me what you were doing? I mean, a strip joint, for Pete's sake!"

There was a telling silence from Allie's end of the line, then, "Are you talking about Ben, the bouncer? He's a cop? Are you sure, Jessie?"

"I'm sure." Jessie heard rasping noises behind her and turned to watched him scrape the burnt eggs into the covered container she kept undo: the sink for garbage. "He's been working undercover, just like you. And, Allie, don't get mad, but he says the only way I can talk to you about what's been happening is if you agree it's off-the-record."

"What? Who does he think he is?"

"He's a cop doing his job, I guess." She was surprised to hear herself defending him. "I think he just means to protect his investigation until he and the FBI have all the evidence they need. They know you're a reporter."

"Just my luck. What's been going on there, anyway?"

"Off-the-record?"

"Yes, off-the-record!" Allie shot back. "Jeez Louise!"

Jessie grinned at the childish interjection, relieved that her sister had capitulated so easily. "So much has happened, I hardly know where to start. I guess you already know somebody was after you in Port Mangus?"

"No! That is, I knew there was a chance, but—"

"Well, anyway, listen to this. They thought I was you, Allie, and Ben had to come and save me. Where did you go?"

"Oh, Jessie! You didn't listen to the messages on my answering machine, did you? And that means Kyle didn't give you my note."

"Not until today, but it wasn't his fault. He's been worried about you, Allie. Where are you, anyway?"

"Uh-uh, sis, you first. I've been trying to call you for two days. I was scared to death something terrible had happened."

"It might have, if Ben hadn't come to my rescue." Jessie settled into a chair beside the phone. Starting with her arrival in Port Mangus, she hit the high spots of her two days of adventure, omitting the more personal aspects of her story.

While she talked, the smoke cleared. Ben closed the window and joined her in the living area, where he neatly stacked the scattered newspapers on the sofa and set them aside so he had a place to sit.

"So the chauvinistic pea-brain fired me," Allie said after Jessie had related the events in the newsroom. "I figured as much."

"Ask her if she had anything in her desk about the story at Club Duan," Ben said. "I didn't find anything in the box."

Jessie was still put out with him, but she refrained from sticking out her tongue at his edict. "Ben wants to know if you kept notes in your desk about the club."

"Absolutely not," Allie said. "I kept my notes in the trunk of my car, and I didn't tell anything to a soul. This is my story."

Jessie relayed Allie's negative response with a shake of her head at Ben. "But you don't have a job anymore," she said into the phone.

"Then I'll free-lance it." Jessie recognized that stubborn determination in her sister's voice.

"Every paper in the Midwest will be after me when I write this thing up. If s big, Jessie, bigger than I dreamed when I first got wind of it. I've got something that'll knock the police and the FBI on their collective fannies. I found a journal in Mai Duan'ssafe."

"A journal? What were you doing in her safe?" Jessie shrugged at Ben, who had sat up straight when he heard her words.

"Well, to make a long story short," Allie answered, "I sneaked into her office to look around while she was busy elsewhere. To my surprise, one of the strippers, a girl named Christie Carter, had gotten there before me and was robbing the safe. She told me later she was the one who had arranged for Mai to be called out of her office in the middle of counting the night's receipts. She was stealing money for a plane ticket to

Kansas, where her parents live. Jessie, Christie's only seventeen, can you believe it? She was stripping, for God's sake, to keep her sleazy boyfriend in dope."

"Seventeen! Didn't anyone check her ID?" Jessie noticed Ben signaling her, but she was too interested in what her twin was saying to interrupt the flow of the story.

"She has a very convincing set of ID that says she's twenty-two," Allie said. "Anyway, the two of us struck a deal. I agreed not to give her away if she'd put the money back. Then I persuaded her to tell me her story while I drove her home to Kansas."

"That's where you are, in Kansas?" Jessie frowned at Ben and nodded impatiently to let him know she was well aware he wanted a report and she'd get around to it in a minute.

"Yes, at Christie's parents. The poor kid has had a rough time of it, and I'm acting as sort of a buffer right now. But there's more, Jessie. While I was in Mai's office, well, since the safe was already open, I couldn't resist checking a few papers. I came across a journal written mostly in Vietnamese, except for some lists of names and numbers. And you won't believe the names I saw, including my slimy boss's—ex-boss, that is. Mai must have been keeping records for some kind of exposd, or something."

"Wow! You stole it?" Jessie could see that Ben was on tenterhooks to know what Allie was saying. "Hold on a minute, Allie. I need to tell Ben about this."

"No! You might not be able to trust him."

Jessie considered the scowling man sitting on her couch. "I trust him, Allie. He saved my life, remember?"

Over her sister's protests, Jessie concisely related the gist of what Allie had told her. Ben's face grew more and more grim as she spoke. He shook his head when she'd finished.

"Good Lord. Tell her to go to the nearest FBI office or the local police and turn that journal over to them right now. "

Dutifully she repeated his directive.

"Does he think I'm stupid?" Allie exclaimed. "If I do that, my inside access to the biggest story of my life is history. Tell him no way, Jessie. I'm going to deliver that baby to the authorities in Chicago myself—after they give me some guaran-

tees. I've got a bargaining chip, and I'm going to use it to get an exclusive."

"Are you sure that's wise, Allie?" Jessie asked worriedly.

"What did she say?" Ben wanted to know.

"She says she's going to bring the journal back herself ."

"Give me that." He got up and grabbed the receiver out of Jessie's hand. "Allie, this is Ben. Allie? Allie?" With a muttered expletive, he handed the phone back to Jessie. "She hung up. Did she say where she is, at least?"

Jessie recradled the handset. "In Kansas."

"I know, but where in Kansas?"

She thought back, then shook her head. "Sorry, I don't know."

"Great," Ben said. "Kansas. That really narrows it down."

He walked to a nearby window and stared out, hands in his back pockets in a masculine, unconsciously sensual pose. Six years of celibacy was finally getting to her, Jessie thought. Did thirty-one-year-old women have middle-age crises? There had to be some explanation for why she was drawn to a man so manifestly wrong for her.

"What now?" she asked in an attempt to distract herself.

He combed his fingers through his thick hair. "How about I help you fix us something to eat while we go over everything Allie told you again? Before I report in downtown, I need to know all of it." He glanced at his watch. "My boss on this case has meetings this afternoon and we still have a couple of hours till he's in his office. Okay?"

Without waiting for Jessie's answer, he headed for the refrigerator. In spite of his typical presumption that she would fall in with his plans, she followed him into her little kitchenette without rancor. He'd taken her acquiescence for granted, to be sure, but at least he'd asked this time.

As she brushed by the counter, Jessie's eyes snagged on the forgotten copy of Midnight Lies. A secret smile warmed her insides. Unlike Antonio, Ben seemed to approve of her writing career. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

Chapter 7

v^hief Agent Cal Leutzinger placed the notes he'd taken during Ben's report on the corner of his desk and sat back in his chair.

Ben thought the stereotyped image most people had of government agents sat on Cal's shoulders with particular ease. He was an unpretentious-looking man. But his wire-rimmed glasses hid a sharp intellect, as well as a wealth of hard experience gained over years in fieldwork for the bureau.

He had a legendary reputation in the Chicago office as a relentless agent with no patience for ineptitude, and was regarded with judicious respect by his co-workers. Since there was inherently an adversarial relationship between feds and local cops, even when they were cooperating on a case, Ben couldn't say he liked the man. Still, he'd sensed from the start of the Club Duan investigation that Leutzinger took his work seriously. Ben could relate to that.

For the past hour and a half, the agent had put him through a grueling debriefing on the case and now regarded him with serious eyes. "I got a call from Ed Brock this afternoon, right after yours, Sutton. Somebody broke into that duplex where you've been staying in Port Mangus."

Ben quickly adapted to the switch in topic. "A burglary?''

"That's what it looked like at first. A neighbor noticed a broken window open on your side of the place, got suspicious and called the police. When the cops saw you weren't there, your landlord was notified. He let them in to investigate/'

"And?"

"Nothing was taken that they could tell, at least none of the things that burglars are usually interested in. Whoever broke in was looking for something else. Every room had been ransacked."

Ben ignored the curl of distaste in his stomach. The few possessions he'd kept in the furnished duplex were not valuable, but being a cop didn't preclude him from a sense of violation at strangers pawing through his belongings. "Any dues as to who did it?"

Leutzinger shook his head. "According to the police chief, the Port Mangus boys investigated, and nobody saw anything. A light-colored car a few neighbors noticed parked on the street a couple of doors down from the duplex might be involved, but that's not much to go on."

Ben's instincts perked. "Was the car a Mazda?"

"I thought of that, too, when you told me about the tail you picked up in Sheboygan. Could be. But since nothing was taken, I doubt they'll pursue it any further, even if we tell them about the Mazda. If s a long shot that would require a lot of man-hours to check out. Not worth it for a simple break-in with no property loss."

This didn't fed right, Ben thought. "If whoever broke in wasn't your average small-time junkie after a quick buck for his next fix, what was he looking for? If s not likely he was there by mistake or coinddence."

"Could the Duan woman be behind it, just checking you out?"

"Uh-uh. Too late in the game. Fve been working for her for more than two months."

"But what about the journal that reporter says she has?"

Ben nodded. The agent's train of thought matched his own. "If that's what they were looking for, it could mean Mai's found out somehow I'm a cop."

"Maybe. Or she might have just been looking for a connection between you and that reporter. Could be she thinks you're a reporter, too. Or that there would be something at your place that would lead her to the Webster woman."

Ben just looked at him. His intuition told him differently.

"Or else," Leutzinger continued bleakly, "we're totally off base and Mai had nothing to do with the break-in at all. Maybe it was a burglary, and the thieves were scared off by something before they had a chance to take anything. Coincidences do happen." He sighed. "What a mess. So far in this case we haven't got a single thing we can use in court. Instead we've got a hotshot reporter who's managed to run off right under our noses with a potentially important piece of evidence we didn't even know existed. She's somewhere in the state of Kansas with some girl whose name may or may not be Carta:, and we don't have even the name of a city to help run her down. Not that that would necessarily help, because said reporter is showing distinct signs of noncooperation."

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before settling the wire rims back into place. "For all I know, I could wake up tomorrow and find our case spread all over the front page of every newspaper in the country. Now, to top it off, there's a good chance the cover of my primary operator has been compromised. This investigation is going to hell in a hand basket, Sutton."

Ben wasn't happy about how things were going, either, and he felt more than a little responsible. He should have seen through Allie Webster's machinations. And if, as he suspected, his cover had been blown, that left the questions how and by whom? Had he been careless without realizing it?

"I'm going to pull you off the case," Leutzinger said. "You can report back to your old precinct on Monday."

Ben blinked. He hadn't expected this. "Why?"

"The only reason we called you in was for the undercover piece, and my gut tells me you've been made. Even if you haven't, your chances of getting Mai to trust you after somebody stole her journal are almost nil. She's going to be suspicious of everybody for a long time. So I can't use you there anymore, and there's no other reason to keep you—-none that I can justify to your commander, anyway. I have to let you go.''

Ben tightened his jaw. In eleven years working undercover, this was the first time he'd been pulled in the middle of an investigation. He didn't like it.

"You know," Leutzinger went on thoughtfully, "maybe the situation isn't as black as it looks. We can start checking out this editor in Sheboygan, for one thing. Besides him, this journal, if we can get our hands on it, raises possibilities for establishing Duan's link to organized crime. I'll have a Vietnamese translator standing by. The thing is, it might not be good evidence, given the way the Webster woman got it. I'll have to check with the prosecutor on the legalities. They've assigned us a new one, by the way. Ted Simmons is still in a coma, and it's doubtful now that he's going to make it."

"I heard." The news about the assistant U.S. attorney's automobile accident Thanksgiving morning had been part of Ed's update at the cabin.

"In fact—" Leutzinger reached for his telephone and punched in some numbers "—the U.S. Attorney's Office was supposed to send the new guy over today to get filled in on Simmons's caseload. Maybe he's still around. Sandy," he said into the phone, "has Rory Douglas checked out of the building yet...? No, I'll wait."

Rory Douglas, Ben thought. A familiar name from his teenage years. Could the new attorney be his old rival? Who cares? You 're off the case, he reminded himself.

There was just one last thing to take care of before he got back to Jessie. She'd waited for almost two hours, and was probably wondering what had happened to him.

Leutzinger didn't miss the surreptitious peek Ben gave his watch. "I'll let you go in a minute. I just need to get—" He broke off, his attention diverted to the phone again. "He is? Find him for me, will you? I want to see him."

He replaced the receiver and asked Ben, "How can I get in touch with the other Webster woman—the twin? You said she lives in Oak Park?"

"Yeah," Ben said. "I'm glad you mentioned her, as a matter of fact. I didn't want to leave her alone, so I brought her with me today. She needs protection till this is over. If her sister hadn't taken that journal, she'd probably be safe at her place, but it won't take long for the wrong people to put the

pieces together. If they haven't already. Jessie's in as much danger as her sister, since the two of them look so much alike/'

Leutzinger frowned. "I see what you mean, but I haven't got a man to spare. And until I show my superiors some concrete evidence that we're dealing with organized crime here, my budget won't stretch to the expense of a safe house. I suppose we could send her out of town to stay with relatives or something, though I'd rather have her available to help us deal with her sister if necessary.''

"She wouldn't go, anyway," Ben replied. "I tried to talk her into visiting her mother in Florida, but she refused. She thinks Allie might need her." Actually, he hadn't pressed Jessie too hard over the whole thing, because he'd figured Leutzinger would assume responsibility for her protection. Besides, if they were dealing with the mob as they suspected, there were no guarantees she'd be any safer in Florida.

"Come to think of it, I do have an extra man." Leutzinger looked at Ben reflectively. "I haven't called your captain yet to tell him I've released you. How about it? Axe you up for a baby-sitting job?"

"Me?"

"I realize if s probably been a long time since you were asked to pull guard duty, but it would just be till her sister turns over the journal."

Ben decided in less than a minute.

He found Jessie where he'd left her, in a glassed-in waiting room near the reception desk. She was writing furiously in a small notebook propped on the purse in her lap. Since she seemed unaware of him standing outside the strip of windows looking at her, he paused a moment to appreciate the chic uptown look she'd adopted for her visit to the bureau. Her outfit, a slim navy skirt and short plaid jacket, was businesslike, but Ben suspected he'd find her sexy in anything she wore.

Jessie looked up and smiled when he entered the room.

"Hi. Sorry I took so long," he said.

"If s okay. I've been busy. Sandy at the desk got a nice young man to show me around, and I was just writing down my observations and taking notes for future research." When he looked at her blankly, she said, "You know, for a book. I've

been thinking of an FBI agent as a heroine. I haven't done that before. I like the idea so much, I may table the next book I had planned to write and do this one right away."

Enthusiasm glowed at him out of her dark eyes. Ben came close to kissing her right there in the open waiting room. Since they'd shaken that tail today, Jessie's prickly defensiveness had disappeared, and he was finding it harder than ever to resist her. In one way or another she challenged all the rules he'd fashioned for himself.

Realizing he was standing there just looking at her, he cleared his throat. "Leutzinger wants to talk to you."

Jessie closed the notebook and got to her feet. "What does he want with me?"

"Got me. I'm just a messenger."

He reached out to smooth an errant auburn curl over her ear. The gesture was a poor substitute for what he really wanted to do.

Jessie stared at him, her eyes soft, turbulent and bottomless. Then, with a faint blush on her cheeks, she smoothed her skirt and checked to see that the visitor identification tag she'd been given by security was still clipped to her lapel. She smiled up at him. "I'm ready."

Me, too, baby, he thought.

He was careful not to touch her as they walked through the hallways. Even in those heels she was a little thing. A surge of protectiveness swelled in his breast. Suddenly he was fiercely glad he'd been handed the job of taking care of her. By God, he'd fight the devil himself to keep her safe. She deserved to write about her female FBI agent with nothing more to worry about than where to put the next comma.

But how was he supposed to keep fighting himself? No way in hell could he be with Jessie twenty-four hours a day and stay away from her; besides, the effort of resisting her was taking a toll on his focus and objectivity. Maybe if he took her to bed, he'd stop wondering what it would be like with her, and he could concentrate on his job again. Fate had intervened and made him her bodyguard, so why not make the most of it?

Jessie used their trek through a series of corridors to marshal her equilibrium. Ben had only touched her hair, a simple

nonsexual gesture. Yet, coupled with the unmistakable message in his gaze, its impact was as erotic as if he had reached under her skirt. Something had changed. Somehow she had the feeling that, on a basic man-to-woman level, he'd claimed her.

Before she had a chance to decide exactly what that meant, Ben guided her into a small, shabby office. Two men rose simultaneously at her entrance.

"Jessie, this is Cal Leutzinger," Ben said, indicating the man behind the desk.

"Miss Webster.'' Leutzinger held out his hand and Jessie shook it.

"And this is Rory Douglas." Ben touched her waist and turned her to the carefully groomed man nearest her. Douglas smiled broadly, eyeing Jessie with masculine approval.

He was almost as tall as Ben, she noted. His dark hair was sedately graying at the temples and showed early signs of receding in points from his forehead.

"Rory just told me that you two are old friends," Leutzinger said to Ben as Jessie placed her palm against the one Douglas offered her.

Douglas's hand was large but almost womanly soft to the touch. He pressed her fingers a little too warmly and held on longer than necessary. A feeling of mild revulsion snaked down Jessie's spine.

"We went to high school together," Ben said, "but since then our paths haven't crossed much. Rory."

The handshake that followed was brief. Douglas said congenially, "It has been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Cal tells me you've been assigned to take over Simmons's cases," Ben said.

"Yeah, the poor bastard. I hear he's in a coma. Still, the wheels of justice must grind on. I don't mind telling you I'm glad to finally have the chance to prove myself in the U.S. Attorney's Office. Up till now they've given me penny-ante stuff to work with."

"You always were ambitious, Rory. I guess one man's misfortune is just another man's opportunity."

Douglas raised neatly trimmed eyebrows. "In this case, yes, though of course I regret that Mr. Simmons fell asleep at the wheel of his automobile and crashed into a tree."

"I'm sure you do," Ben replied.

"Well." Douglas rubbed his hands together. "It's getting late and I need to get going. I'll get back to you, Cal, after I've researched the issue we discussed. In the meantime, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep me informed about any new developments in the case."

"Of course," said Leutzinger. "Thanks for stopping by."

"No trouble. Good to see you again, Ben. Miss Webster, it's been a real pleasure. Perhaps we'll meet again."

Not if I can help it, Jessie thought as she smiled her goodbye. She'd take Ben's arrogance over oily charm any day.

"It sounds as though there's some history between you two," Leutzinger said when Douglas was gone.

Ben waved his hand dismissiveiy. "Just kid stuff. You wanted to talk to Jessie?"

Leutzinger reclaimed his seat and made himself comfort* able. "Yes, I do. Sit down, both of you. Your twin sister is causing us a few problems, Miss Webster."

"Yes, I know." Jessie sat down, hoping she didn't sound as intimidated as she felt under Leutzinger's penetrating gaze.

"Ben has told me about this journal she claims to have. I understand she has shown some reluctance to give it to the police."

Jessie looked at Ben accusingly before answering. "That's not exactly correct," she told Leutzinger. "What AlUe said was she wants to deliver it to you in person. She fully intends you to have it."

"Did your sister tell you anything she'd read in the journal?"

This was ground Jessie had already covered with Ben, but she patiently repeated the information Allie had given her on the phone. When she'd finished, Leutzinger leaned forward and rested his folded hands on the desk.

"I don't want to alarm you, Miss Webster, but evidence like this in your sister's possession could place her in danger. If s vital that she turn it over to the authorities as soon as possible."

"I agree."

"We may need your help with that."

"My help? I don't understand."

"Right now you're the only link we have to that journal or to your sister," Leutzinger said. "If she calls you again, I'd like you to find out exactly where she is. Try to persuade her to drop the journal at the nearest police station. Tell her she can call me from there and Til arrange for her safe return home. Then, even if she refuses, I want you to call me immediately. Will you do that?"

Uncomfortably aware that the full weight of the United States government rested behind his request, Jessie asked, "What will you do if she refuses?"

"Do you think she might?"

"It's possible. Allie is a good citizen, Agent Leutzinger, but she's also a reporter who's just lost her job. Remember, Ben already suggested that she give the journal to the authorities in Kansas. Her answer was she didn't want to chance being cut out of the story. She wants you to guarantee her an exclusive."

"Or what?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Or what, Miss Webster? If your sister doesn't get what she wants, do you think she'll be foolish enough to hang on to that journal and risk charges of withholding evidence and obstruction of justice? I will bring charges, make no mistake."

"Now, wait a minute, Cal—" Ben said.

"My sister is not a criminal, Agent Leutzinger." Jessie was angry.

"I'm glad to hear that, Miss Webster. A good citizen cooperates with law enforcement officials out of a sense of duty. She doesn't cut deals like an informer on the streets."

Jessie gathered her dignity around her and stood up. Infuriated by the unexpected threat to her sister, she was hardly aware that Ben rose beside her.

"I see your point," she said in a stilted voice. "I'll do what I can if Allie calls, but I can't promise anything."

"Your effort will be greatly appreciated," Leutzinger said amiably. "Ben knows how to reach me."

"All right. If there's nothing else, then—"

"One more thing, Miss Webster. Ben believes your resemblance to your twin places you at risk from certain unknown and undesirable sources. I'm inclined to agree. Until we learn

otherwise, I've assigned him to stay with you for your protection."

"Stay with me!" Jessie looked up and Ben's eyes burned into hers. "But-"

"If s only precautionary," Leutzinger said. "He'll watch out for you until we know there's no further threat."

Jessie tore her gaze from Ben's, engulfed once again, as she'd been at the cabin, by the overwhelming feeling that she was a powerless pawn in a game where someone else was moving the pieces.

"Very well. Goodbye, Agent Leutzinger." She struggled to keep her voice even. Then she turned sharply and left the office, not caring whether Ben accompanied her or not. The ring of Leutzinger's phone followed her out the door.

She had reached the end of the long hallway and realized that she didn't know the way out, when she heard Ben call, "Hold up a minute, Jess."

Impatiently she waited, barely able to control the roiling emotions that demanded release, while Ben stood at the open door of the office she'd just vacated, talking in muted tones to Leutzinger. He seemed in no hurry to leave.

She was contemplating whether to brave the maze of corridors on her own or to simply give in to her frustration and kick the wall beside her when Ben called to her again.

"Jessie, do you have call forwarding on your phone?"

"No," she called back. "Why?"

She flinched when she heard her amplified voice. There were dosed doors all up and down the hallway. How many people had heard her shouting down these dignified corridors like a rowdy child?

Ben turned his head and spoke again to Leutzinger. Hurry up/ she urged him mentally. / want to get out of here/ Finally he joined her, his face grim.

"Whafs the matter?" she asked.

Grabbing her by the elbow, he muttered, "Later." He practically dragged her down the right-hand corridor, his stride long and purposeful. By the time they readied the reception area, Jessie was winded from trying to keep up. Sandy, the friendly gray-haired receptionist, had apparently left for the day, and a security guard sat in her place behind the desk.

"Slow down a little, will you?" she gasped. "I may be anxious to leave, but I'm not diessed for a marathon/'

"Sorry/ 9 Ben undipped the identification tag on his jacket collar. "You should have said something sooner/'

"I'm saying it now. I hate all this. I fed like slugging somebody."

Ben grinned and flicked the tip of ho* nose with his finger, "Hold your fire, Jess. Give the man your pass and sign your name."

"Orders, orders, orders," Jessie mumbled, pleased and a little flustered by his affectionate gesture. She did as he said, then faced him, placing her fists on her hips in not-quite-feigned pique. "When am I going to get some say again in running my own life?"

"Come on, princess. Let's blow this low-class joint." Ben circled the back of her neck with his big hand, pulling her to his side, and hooked his arm casually across her shoulders as they walked to his car. This time she kept pace with him easily.

Jessie felt giddy as a schoolgirl with Ben's arm around her in public. And confused. Where was the man who issued orders like a field marshal and delighted in goading her to madness? Had he stopped fighting the attraction between them? If he had, she was going to have a hard time resisting. This gentle possessiveness was far too tempting.

Still, she made no effort to step away from his loose hold. She was even sorry when they reached the car and he withdrew his arm to open the door.

Jessie's bemusement fled soon after Ben pulled into traffic and turned onto a southbound expressway. She looked at him quizzically. "I assume you know this isn't the way back to Oak Park."

Ben kept his eyes on the road. "I'm not taking you home, Jess "

"Why not?"

"Leutzinger got a call from Ed in Port Mangus as we were leaving his office. Some employees at Club Duan reported Mai missing this morning. Nobody's seen or heard from her since Wednesday night, when Ed tapped into that call about Allie."

His answer puzzled Jessie. "So? Maybe she spent Thanksgiving with her family and is late getting back. What does that have to do with me?"

"No, she's Vietnamese, remember? She doesn't have family here in the States. She had arranged to eat Thanksgiving dinner at a cafeteria with some of her girls but didn't show up, not at the restaurant yesterday or this morning for work."

Suddenly Jessie thought of the journal her sister had taken from Mai's office and quailed. "What do you think it means? That she went after Allie?"

Ben took his hand off the wheel and wrapped it around hers, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "No, honey, the police there suspect foul play. Both Mai's office and her apartment upstairs were trashed when they went in to investigate. Plus, wherever she is, she didn't take her car. It was sitting outside where she always parked it." Ben's hold on Jessie's hand tightened. "They also found Allie's name written on a notepad in her office, Jess. There's no question now that she knows exactly who your sister is."

Jessie's heart lurched.

"Other people—dangerous people—probably know now, too," Ben wait on, "and Allie's trail is going to lead right to you. That's why I'm not taking you back to Oak Park. We're going to my house instead. Leutzinger is sending someone over to your place to fix the phone so all your calls are forwarded to my number. That way, if Allie phones again, you won't miss her."

Jessie absorbed this new information in numbed silence. Her head was reeling.

"Hey," Ben said after several minutes had passed. He wiggled her hand. "You still with me?"

She sighed tiredly. "This doesn't seem real, Bra. Things like this don't happen to ordinary people like me."

"If only that were true. Nobody is immune from the thieves and pushers and murderers in the world. Sooner or later everybody is touched in one way or another by their dirt."

"That sounds so cynical." In spite of her circumstances, Jessie didn't want to believe he was right.

"Hell, Jessie—I am cynical. Most cops are. The real world is not a pretty place."

He took his hand away, and Jessie regretted the loss. She wondered what memories he'd buried to give him such a bleak outlook on life. So far he'd told her very little about himself.

Uncomfortably she was reminded of Antonio, who, even after two years of marriage, had remained a distant stranger. Not once had he shared anything of emotional significance with her. She'd been an adjunct to her ex-husband's life, not a real part of it.

To be fair, she hadn't known Ben very long, so maybe she hadn't given him enough of a chance to open up to her. Or was she just making excuses for him, the way she had for Antonio for so long?

In spite of the brevity of their acquaintance, she cared for Ben far more than was good for her. How on earth would she protect herself against him now that they'd be together in the same house for heaven only knows how long? Especially if he kept acting as though they were a couple. It was hard enough guarding her emotions when they were at odds.

Jessie was beginning to feel doomed to repeat her mistakes. Maybe it was already too late to save herself.

Perhaps she'd been too pleased with herself for gaining her independence after her divorce. Maybe somebody up there was showing her she'd been fooling herself to think she commanded her own destiny. There was certainly no way out of her current predicament.

"Am I going to be like a prisoner now?" she asked abruptly. "If I can't go home, how am I going to work? What about clothes and things? This is the second time you've whisked me away with only the shirt on my back."

In contrast to his brooding silence a minute ago, a grin tugged at Ben's lips. "You're not going to start arguing with me again, are you?"

"That depends," she warned. "I'm used to doing as I please. As I told you before, having my every movement dictated reminds me of a very unpleasant period in my life. Don't be surprised if I get a little testy."

He laughed outright at that. "No, I won't be surprised."

Chapter 8

jttl half hour later Jessie got her first glimpse of Ben's home and realized her image of him would have to be adjusted.

"This is where you live?"

'This is it."

"It looks like a farmhouse."

Ben threw her an amused look. "It is a farmhouse. Though the farm around it has long since been cut into little pieces for all the other homes in the neighborhood."

Jessie had to look through the rear window to see the homes to which he alluded. His property was set back from the others by a long driveway and nearly hidden by a copse of winter-naked trees. She could see that this residential area on the southern outskirts of the city was an old one, less urban than rural in character. With the exception of Ben's, though, all the houses were crowded together on city-sized lots.

Ben's yard was huge by contrast, dotted with large trees that had long ago spread their roots and established their ownership of the rich Illinois soil beneath their branches. The house itself, wearing dignified white siding and black trim, exuded the stately permanence of an old society matron, comfortably out of fashion with the times.

The sole discordant note—and the only outward evidence that a security-conscious cop might live here—was the high, forbidding chain link fence enclosing the property.

Ben stopped the car outside the gate to retrieve a complicated-looking control mechanism from the glove compartment.

"What's that?" Jessie asked.

"A remote for my alarm system." He pressed a succession of buttons on the device and a red light in the top comer flashed. Then he punched in another code, the light blinked again, and the wide gate separated in the middle. With smooth efficiency, the two parts of the barrier slid on runners into retaining pockets.

"Pretty slick," Jessie commented as Ben drove through. She turned in her seat to watch the gate close behind them. "Is this a high-crime area?"

"It used to be. But we started a community program several years back involving both residents and the police department. The number of personal and property crimes has dropped off a good bit since then."

"Oh, like Neighborhood Watch. We have that where I live, too."

Ben nodded. "Something like that. Neighborhood Watch is good as far as it goes, but our program expands on it. We have more interaction between cops and civilians. The police here have bases throughout the community, two men to a substation, instead of everybody at a central location. One guy mans the substation with a phone and a car, while the other patrols the neighborhood on foot or on a bicycle."

"like the old beat cop?"

"Right. Plus there are regular meetings where the police give tips on home security and personal safety. There's also a free exchange of information about crime in the area. I thought if cops got to spend more time around the good, honest folks they're protecting, and if the residents got to know the decent men and women who joined the police force because they wanted to help people, it would be a natural thing for everybody to join forces against the real bad guys. And it worked."

Ben pulled around to the back of the house and parked in the carport.

"The program was your idea, then?" Jessie asked.

He looked at her. "Did I say that?"

"You said you thought it would work that way, as though you came up with the plan."

"You don't miss much, do you? Wait there, I'll get your door."

Jessie recognized a diversion when it smacked her in the face, but Ben left the car before she could call him on it. Perhaps he was being modest. She was afraid, though, that his refusal to talk about even so impersonal a matter as a crime prevention program he'd conceived was his way of keeping barriers in place.

Preoccupied with his evasion, Jessie followed him to the house and watched him unlock the back door. He pushed it open and stood back to let her precede him. She walked through but turned around just inside the door, thinking she might as well find out right now whether he would shut her out as Antonio had.

"So was it your idea? The cop on the beat, I mean."

He stopped short and looked down at her with a frown of mild exasperation. "As a matter of fact, it was. The program was set up here in this neighborhood as a pilot for the whole city. Look, Jessie, I'll tell you about it later if you're really interested, but right now let's get inside. It's cold out here."

He nudged her out of the way. With a hand at her back, he hustled her through the spacious country kitchen before she could note anything other than the cheerfully checkered tile floor and a backyard view through the breakfast nook windows. In the living room, he stepped away, leaving her to look around while he slipped out of his jacket and removed the holster strapped to his shoulder.

"What a gorgeous room!" she exclaimed.

"Thanks," he said nonchalantly, though she sensed he was pleased. "The furniture is kind of hodgepodge, but since I live alone, I don't have to suit anyone but myself."

"You mean you decorated this? Ben, it's wonderful." Jessie was amazed but sincere in her praise. The high-ceilinged room was open and airy, the traditional furnishings chosen for expansive comfort and utility. Nothing jarred the senses or called

attention to itself. Even the decidedly modern, freestanding fireplace occupying the comer looked homey.

"I'll take care of this and be right back. Look around, if you want." Still holding the leather-encased gun, Ben disappeared down a hallway, and Jessie had a chance to leisurely study her surroundings.

She liked the color scheme, a mix of blues and muted reds against light walls and a gleaming parquet floor. Ben had achieved an atmosphere both pleasing to the eye and restful to the spirit. Two picture windows flanked what must at one time have been an exterior door, but which now opened onto a glassed-in sun porch. Through plain, translucent curtains, she caught a glimpse of dark branches beyond the porch's wall of windows. She would have wandered out to investigate if Ben had not returned to the living room just then.

"Was this your parents' home?" she asked.

"No, I bought it several years ago as a fixer-upper. So far I've only renovated the downstairs. I don't fed rushed to do the second floor since there's a bedroom down here."

Jessie absorbed that surprising information. Ben, a handyman? "Darn. I had almost managed to visualize you as a rosy-cheeked little boy climbing all those trees out in the yard. Now I have to rearrange my thinking again."

His mouth tilted. "Well, I was a little boy, once upon a time, but otherwise you're way off base. There weren't any trees where I grew up, or even a yard, for that matter. My father and mother were missionaries with an inner-city ministry. We lived over a Salvation Army-type mission in a pretty rough section of Chicago."

Dumbfounded, Jessie exclaimed, "Are you serious?"

"What's the matter? You can't picture me as a preacher's kid?"

She was trying, but it was hard. "What was it like?"

Ben plucked his jacket from the back of the couch and walked to a narrow louvered closet by the front door Jessie had noticed earlier. "I can't complain. I had it pretty good compared to the other kids in my neighborhood."

"I mean being a preacher's kid. Was that difficult?"

He shrugged as he hung up his jacket. "I suppose it set me apart. When your parents are ministers, you don't have much

in common with the homeboys. I learned early on to make it on my own. I didn't mind that so much as I did sharing my mom and dad with every drunk and junkie on the street."

He crossed the room to the thermostat and made a quick adjustment. The furnace clicked on.

"So you were alone even then/ 9 Jessie said quietly.

Ben's eyes warmed as he looked at her. "What's going on inside that beautiful head of yours, Jess? Have I touched a chord of sympathy inside your soft heart? Are you thinking I had an unhappy childhood?"

"Well, it couldn't have been easy, with no friends and having to compete for your parents' attention."

"It's tempting to let you think so, just to find out what form your sympathy would take."

Somehow he had shifted closer, and Jessie looked up and saw the devilish glint in his eyes. She stepped back and made a face at him. "You've been putting me on, haven't you?"

He broke into a teeth-flashing grin. "Not really, but I couldn't resist teasing you. You looked so earnestly concerned."

As far as Jessie could tell, he hadn't moved as he spoke, but somehow he'd managed once again to invade her personal space. She resisted the urge to take another step back. "So what was it really like?"

He tapped her nose. "Don't tell anybody, but I was a normal, selfish kid who didn't realize how special my parents were or how lucky I was."

"Were they there for you when you needed them?"

He lifted a careless shoulder. "Not always. But they did the best they could. Truthfully, I couldn't appreciate their work until I was old enough to understand. My folks gave people hope, as well as food and clothes and a place to sleep for the night. There were plenty of victims around who needed them more than I did."

"Baloney." Jessie was indignant. "You were just a child. Children need to know they're the most important thing in the world to their patents. Somebody should have set them straight on that point."

Ben smiled crookedly. "C'mere."

He reached for her, and after a brief hesitation, Jessie let him draw her close. This isn't smart, she told herself. But she didn't resist when he gently pressed her head to his chest. Instead she rested her hands on his biceps, closed her eyes and savored the strength and the hardness of him as she imagined the lonely little boy he'd once been.

"You're determined to champion my cause, aren't you?" he said against her hair. "I like it—even if you're just doing it for the sake of argument."

"I'm not."

She jerked back in protest and the top of her head connected solidly with Ben's chin. Yellow spots pirouetted in front of her eyes as his arms fell away.

"Ow! Dammit, woman!" Gingerly he kneaded the underside of his jaw with the heel of one hand.

Still reeling, Jessie rubbed her own sore spot. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Me, too," Ben said with comic remorse. "So much for taking advantage of your gentle sensibilities."

"Is that what you were doing?"

"If I was, you launched a pretty good defense. My aching chin tells me you're not in the mood."

"I didn't do it on purpose," Jessie protested.

Ben studied her for a charged moment and asked evenly, "Does that mean you are in the mood?"

She bristled at the soft, vaguely threatening question, torn between relief and regret that the poignant moment was over. "Don't be ridiculous. I was just... you were just—"

Unsure herself about what would have happened if she hadn't been so clumsy, Jessie floundered for an explanation.

"Never mind," Ben said, coming to her rescue. "I'm hungry, aren't you? If s been a long time since lunch."

Jessie accepted the new subject gratefully. "Are you cooking?"

"Sorry, all I have to offer is your choice of TV dinners. Sometimes I think I single-handedly keep the frozen food folks in business."

"I've eaten my share, too," she said lightly. "Cooking for one isn't very rewarding, is it? \fery well, show me to your freezer."

He turned and headed for the kitchen. Jessie followed, her mind going back to the way he'd told her about his childhood. She couldn't suppress a thrill of pleasure at the memory. Whatever his motivation for telling her, she'd bet there weren't too many people who knew how he had grown up. He'd given her an important piece of himself without hedging or putting up roadblocks. Having lived for two years with an uncommunicative man, Jessie treasured that relative openness.

Inside the kitchen doorway, Ben flipped on a light, reminding her that darkness fell quickly during midwestern winters. Until the artificial brightness chased away the gray shadows in the room, she'd hardly noticed the gathering dusk outside the windows.

The phone rang as Ben reached to open a door on his side-by-side refrigerator-freezer, and Jessie's thoughts flew immediately to her twin.

"I'll get that," Ben said. "You go ahead and pick out what you want to eat from the freezer."

"Do you think Agent Leutzinger had time to get my calls forwarded to your number?"

"It's possible. I'll let you know if if s Allie."

He left her alone, and seconds later the glow of a lamp from the other room lit the doorway. Jessie heard his low voice murmur a greeting. She waited a moment for his summons. When it didn't come, she relaxed and glanced around the kitchen. Like the living room, the kitchen was unpretentious and homey, but its overall atmosphere was more cheerful than serene. Simple blue-and-white gingham curtains graced the windows, complementing eggshell walls, the checkerboard floor, and a multitude of wooden cabinets and almond-toned appliances. Ben's "fix-up" had apparently been extensive.

Jessie walked to the refrigerator, opened the freezer section and smiled. He hadn't been kidding about eating frozen meals. The freezer was crammed with several brands and varieties of breakfasts, sandwiches and dinner entrees. Ben had a fondness for beef, she decided.

She scanned each of the shelves and spotted a lone turkey dinner at the bottom of the lowest shelf.

"Aha!" she said under her breath. With some awkwardness she stooped to extricate her dinner choice from the pile of

boxes, her leg muscles reminding her of the high heels she wore. She berated herself for the preening foolishness that had motivated her to dress up for the trip to the FBI office. If she'd been less occupied with her own vanity—or, more to the point, with impressing Ben—she might be comfortable now in jeans and sneakers.

She hoped there would be a way to pick up some things from her apartment tomorrow. Even if she was here for only a short time, she didn't want to spend it in a suit and heels. The way her life had been going lately, she ought to start carrying a fully stocked duffel bag wherever she went.

On that thought, she freed the turkey with two hands and somehow managed not to break a fingernail in the process.

"Finally," she muttered.

Clutching her dinner triumphantly in one hand, she straightened and arched her back to get the kinks out before closing the freezer door. When she turned around, there was Ben.

Embarrassed that she'd just given him a fine view of the backs of her knees, not to mention her too-rounded fanny, Jessie cast about in her mind for something to break the silence. "Who was on the phone?"

"A neighbor kid, Stevie, who lives in the house we passed just before turning into my driveway. He saw us come in earlier and wanted to know if I'd play catch with him tomorrow.''

Ben's gold-green eyes gleamed dangerously. Jessie fiddled with the buttons on her stylish but suddenly warm jacket. "Won't it be too cold?"

"Not for Stevie. But I had to tell him no. I'm working, remember?"

"Oh, right." She'd do well to remember that, she cautioned herself. She wouldn't be here if Ben hadn't been assigned to take care of her. "I hope he wasn't disappointed."

"There's plenty of time for me to practice with him before the summer Little League season. He wants to be a pitcher, and I told him I'd help him. His dad died a few years ago."

"That's nice of you."

"Not really. It gives me an excuse to play ball, and Stevie's a fun little kid."

"Still. Some men wouldn't even consider it. Not every man likes children. My ex-husband didn't."

Ben folded his arms and leaned back against the counter, his eyes following the fluttering movement of her fingers on her buttons. "Did the two of you disagree about having kids?"

Glad to have even Antonio as a topic of conversation, Jessie nodded. "That was one of the many reasons I left him. Although it's not his fault entirely. I was young and starry-eyed and never told him what I expected before we got married."

"How old were you?"

"A very young twenty-three. I hadn't ever lived away from home—Allie and I had commuted to the University of Chicago—and I was married shortly after I graduated. I'd never been on my own, never had any hard knocks. I guess I thought marriage would just be a continuation of my uncomplicated life, only better. Pretty dumb, huh?"

"But hardly unusual."

Jessie tipped her head in acknowledgment. "I suppose not. I had in mind a big happy family with lots of babies. I thought most Latin males loved children, but somehow that trait bypassed Antonio's genes."

"How did you meet him?"

"He was a Bolivian exchange student at the university. He charmed me into marrying him, became a U.S. citizen, and never went back home. I was just part of his great plan. You can't know how stupid I felt when I realized how I'd been used."

Ben was watching her intentiy as she spoke, and abruptly Jessie was reminded of her ex-husband's rapt attentions while he'd courted her. The uncomfortable thought struck her that she had taken Antonio at face value and never questioned the motivation behind his attention. Did Ben have another agenda besides protecting her? Would she find, when this was over, that she'd been used again? It's not the same thing, she assured herself, brushing the fleeting suspicion aside.

"When did you figure out he had taken advantage of you?" Ben asked.

Jessie hardly noticed that she had begun to work her top jacket button in and out of its buttonhole. "It didn't take long, once we were married. He was possessive of me from the start.

I thought he didn't want children because he didn't want to share me. I tried to accept it, telling myself I should be flattered that he loved me so much." She shook her head. "But Antonio loved only Antonio. Ultimately I realized any slave would have suited him, as long as she was American, female, and willing to jump as often and as high as he dictated. I'm afraid that toward the end, I wasn't very good at that. But by then, he'd already picked out my replacement."

Suddenly Jessie felt ill at ease. "Listen to me, would you? I hadn't intended to tell you all that. "

Ben's smile was almost tender. "You're not boring me."

"Maybe not, but AUie's the only one I've ever confided in about my divorce. Even my mother doesn't know the whole story."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Jessie shrugged. "There's not much more—you might as well hear the rest. Antonio had an affair with a meek little secretary in his office. A better woman than I, he was quick to tell me, one who knew a wife's duty, something I had forgotten. They're still married, as far as I know, so maybe she's made of stronger stuff than I am."

"Or weaker."

"I don't think so. I heard they had a baby a couple of years ago. Apparently she was able to influence him, something I could never manage."

"Or maybe she was just more devious."

Jessie brightened. "You mean she might have tricked him into fatherhood?"

She spared Antonio's current wife a moment of empathetic congratulations, then grew thoughtful. "You know what? I just realized I don't feel angry or humiliated about any of it anymore. I think I'm finally over the whole thing. After six years, it's about time, don't you think?"

"Antonio's a scumbag," he muttered, pushing himself away from the counter and approaching her. "You're well rid of him."

"I couldn't...agree more," Jessie said, her voice faltering when, instead of stopping, he entered her personal space and took the frozen dinner from her hand. Tossing it behind him onto a countertop, he backed her against the refrigerator.

"i

'What... What are you doing, Ben?"

"I don't want to talk about your ex anymore, Jess," he growled. He propped his forearms against the enameled door, blocking her in. "And if you don't stop fooling around with that button..."

His eyes fell to her busy fingers. Instantly Jessie stilled them and caught her breath as she looked into Ben's hungry gaze.

"It's too late, honey. I'm already imagining what I'd see if you opened up that jacket... for me."

"I'm... not going to do that," she whispered. Her respiration quickened. With each indrawn breath, her wool-covered breasts brushed against his encroaching body. They swelled and grew heavy inside her bra, the nipples tightening.

"Aren't you?" Warm air from his mouth caressed her lips. Jessie felt her body grow liquid from his nearness.

"Ben ... I thought we decided not to..."

"We were stupid." His voice was raw with tightly leashed passion. "I can't be with you without wanting you. I'm going crazy with it. Tell me you fed the same."

Jessie swallowed and recalled his kisses, the fed of his hands, the spiraling pleasure he'd ignited in her body that had yet to be fulfilled. Oh, yes, she wanted him.

"Tell me," he said again.

This strong, hard man knew his power over her; she wouldn't resist were he to take what he wanted.

But he didn't take. Instinctively she knew she could say no, and he'd honor her refusal. It was that which tipped her over the edge and fully seduced her.

Surrender was all the sweeter for being freely given. Jessie slipped her hand up his chest and cradled his stubborn jaw in her hand. "I do want you, Ben."

Masculine lips captured hers on the whisper of his name. Unconsdously mewing deep in her throat, she opened her mouth in invitation. Without hesitation his tongue swept inside, scouring the moist cavern with sweet ravishment.

The whole of Jessie's being was centered on the greedy joining of thdr mouths and the heated yearning in secret places inside her newly awakened body. The past two days of fighting her desire had kept the lusty coals smoldering, and in seconds she was once again on fire for him.

Ben pinned her against the refrigerator, practically lifting her out of her shoes as he imprinted his hard planes against the yielding curves of her body. Jessie strained against his arousal, frustrated by the thick clothing that prevented a more satisfying meeting of flesh to flesh.

He wrenched his mouth from hers to rasp, "Not here," then swooped her into his arms and out of the kitchen. She buried her face in his neck. She nuzzled his throat, seeking out his warm skin with her lips and tongue as he carried her. Excited by his moan of pleasure, she kissed and nibbled and licked at the sensitive nerve endings between his shoulder and ear until, with desperate, coaxing movements of his cheek against her hair, he nudged her head back and found her mouth again.

Jessie wasn't aware they'd reached his bedroom until her feet touched the floor. Unsteadily Ben stepped back, clicked on the bedside lamp and started to unbutton his shirt.

"Take off your clothes," he said, a rough edge to his voice. "Hurry."

His rush to get undressed testified to the urgency driving him. Jessie recognized it, shared it, and understood that there would be no visual savoring of the baring of their bodies, no inclination toward gentle exploration. She didn't want it, either. Need propelled her shaking hands to the buttons of her jacket.

Ben had less to take off and had stripped completely by the time Jessie managed to remove only her outer clothing. Her eyes swept down his well-honed frame and settled on his powerfully engorged erection as she stepped out of her skirt. With a thrill of anticipation she celebrated his size and strength.

Soon, soon, her heart sang dizzily.

"Protection," he muttered between gritted teeth. "I'll be right back. Hurry."

Jessie didn't know whether he'd meant the last command for her or for himself, but she tackled her lacy camisole and bra with renewed, if inept, energy. She was fumbling with her panty hose when he returned with the square packet. He ripped the foil open with his teeth and prepared himself in the seconds it took her to rake the hosiery clumsily off her feet.

Ben didn't wait for her to remove the bikini panties that remained. In one fluid motion he grasped her under the arms, lifted her crosswise onto the nearby bed and slid the panties

down her legs and off. Then he joined her on the bed. Spreading her thighs wide with his knees, he reached down to test her readiness. Jessie cried out when he explored her swollen petals and found the slippery evidence of her desire.

"Jessie," he breathed.

"Please," she begged, close to delirium from the probing of his fingers. She tried to help as he positioned himself between her legs, and he laughed shakily when her hands only got in the way.

"Here, let me," he said unsteadily.

Then he was there, blunt and hard, squeezing his way into her, stretching her until he was buried to the hilt inside her feminine sheath. Her legs bent and wrapped themselves around his buttocks, settling him deeper.

"Jess," he growled, eyes tightly closed in agonized pleasure. "Nothing has ever felt this good before."

She scarcely heard him. At last, she was thinking ecstatically. It was more— he was more—than she'd ever known, ever dreamed possible.

Then, unbelievably, as he held himself rigidly in control inside her, Jessie felt the gathering tightness that signaled the initial shudders of her release. Thrilled, amazed, unable to stop the compelling rush to completion, she ground her hips against him and reached to embrace it, crying out as the undulating waves rolled over her.

"Don't move yet, baby," Ben moaned. "Oh, Jess."

Then he was moving, too, fast and deep, thrusting his hips into the cradle of her thighs until in a final lunge, he found his own prolonged fulfillment. He met it with a strangled groan of satisfaction and collapsed on top of her.

Jessie caught him in her arms and lay under his damp heaviness, happy and replete, listening to the thunder of his heart.

Chapter9

rray to go, Flash, Ben complimented himself derisively when he could think straight again. You really know how to show a lady a good time.

He'd been a mindless pig, and that was putting it mildly. In his headlong race to get inside her, he'd skipped all the parts that made sex good for a woman. Hell, he'd been so carried away, he'd barely remembered to protect her. And once he'd gotten in—the thought was uncomfortable enough to make him wince—it had been all over in an embarrassingly short period of time.

Even so, it had been heaven while it lasted. Ben's modest sampling of women in the world hadn't prepared him for what he'd felt with Jessie. He'd always enjoyed sex, but never before had a woman's body received him so sweetly; never had an orgasm rocked him so intensely. Never had he lost control.

This frantic taking was not his usual style at all. As one woman in his past had told him, he had what that old song called "a slow hand." He liked to draw out the preliminaries, to savor the gradual climb to climax. His partners had seemed to appreciate it.

But he'd taken Jessie like an animal.

Carefully he eased up and off the quiescent woman under him, his sticky skin peeling reluctantly away from her naked body. Jessie opened her eyes and shivered when the cool air hit her. She was flushed and damp and incredibly beautiful lying there in lavish nudity, wet little tendrils of hair clinging to her cheeks and temples.

"Whew!" She smiled. "We didn't waste any time, did we?"

Ben felt heat climb his neck to spread in his face. "Yeah, well-"

"Ooh, I feel...." She stretched sumptuously, her raised arms lifting her lush breasts into perfectly rounded mounds on her chest. "Energized! Like I could—build a house, or something."

Ben's eyes flew to her face. "You do?"

"Damn that Antonio, anyway," she said cheerfully. "I guess we showed him!"

"We did?" Ben heard his puzzled question and grimaced. He was starting to sound like a fool without an original thought in his head.

"We did." Jessie put her hand behind his neck and pulled him down for a soft kiss. "You're quite a man, Ben Sutton."

Ben almost said, "I am?" but caught himself in time. Her hand drifted down to dally in his chest hair. Little tracks of heat trailed behind her fingers.

"You aren't disappointed, then?"

Feathery lashes lifted and blue eyes, dark and glowing with mischief, pulled him into their mystery. "Fishing for compliments?"

Compliments?

Her lips curved into a sultry smile. "Well, much as I hate to feed your ego, I have to oblige. How could I be disappointed? I didn't know making love could be so... so..."

"Quick?"

She laughed seductively deep in her throat. "Uh-uh," she corrected with a shake of her short curls. "More like... explosive. I'll tell you a secret." Her voice softened and she blushed becomingly. "That was the first time I ever...you know. Thank you."

Her ingenuous disclosure caused Ben's chest to expand, and he felt a queer tightening in the region of his heart. He should

say something, but there woe no words for the relief, tenderness, pride and other more indefinable emotions pulling at him. Taking refuge in action, he stole a brief kiss and drew back with a smile that felt lopsided* "I'm glad you were satisfied, honey, but that was only the appetizer."

"Oh?" Jessie looked at him from voider half-closed eyelids and a naughty anile curved her lips. "Then I can't wait for the banquet."

Her playful challenge arrowed straight to his manhood. Ben leaned over and caught her mouth once more. Deliberately he limited his tongue to a single, teasing dip inside, then forced himself to back away.

"You'll have to give me a minute. Don't move so much as a centimeter from this spot until I get back."

She grinned saucily. Ben jumped from the bed and hurried into the bathroom. Quickly he took care of necessities and fumbled for another foil packet from the box he hadn't bothered to put away earlier. Then he paused. A.vision of Jessie as he'd left her, stretched out on his bed clothed only in her skin, filled his brain. He grabbed the whole box and rushed back to the bedroom.

There he found her under the covers, the sheet tucked up to her chin.

"You moved!" he complained.

She smiled at him, but the devilish glimmer was nowhere in evidence. Instead she looked unsure. "I got a little chilly."

Ben walked to the bed and put the box of condoms on the nightstand. "Having second thoughts?"

"I don't think so," she said cautiously. "I'm a little nervous, though."

"How come?" He lifted the covers and slipped in beside her. To his relief, she didn't resist when he drew her into his arms.

"It's just that I've never been very good at this. What happened before was really a fluke. It might not happen again."

He chuckled and gave her a squeeze, causing her breasts to move up delectably against his upper arm and chest muscles.

"No, I'm serious," she said. "I'm just loaded with inhibitions, and I never know what to do...."

Ben understood. Someone—he was pretty sure he knew who—had done a number on her confidence. Too bad she'd

had time to remember it. Her ex-husband had a lot to answer for.

"Tell you what," he said, nuzzling into the curls at her ten-pie. "Just make believe we're on an expedition, sort of like Lewis and Clark mapping out the Northwest Territory.''

She gurgled. "What?"

"You know, explorers. We'll pretend there's all this unknown terrain in front of us, and all we have to do is find our way through it."

"What a concept for foreplay. Did you get it out of a manual?"

"Nope. Just thought of it. What do you say? You'll like it, I promise."

She pretended to think. "Lewis and Clark. Are we looking for anything in particular?"

"Well, the end point of the journey, the ... climax, so to speak, is the Pacific Ocean. But our real objective is to chart the wonders we find along the way. We can't hurry past a majestic mountain or an enchanting little valley without giving it our full attention." Ben's hands were busy as he lectured.

Jessie tilted her head back and warm blue eyes sparkled into his. "Mountains and valleys, huh?"

"Right. Plains are nice, too, of course. Not really flat like a lot of people think. They're actually full of interesting swells and ridges and hollows."

"Hmm. I see what you mean. I believe I may have discovered a swelling ridge already."

"See what a natural you are?" Ben inhaled sharply. "Uh, Jess, we'd better leave that for now and come back to it late-." He moved her hand to his chest and she giggled adorably. "In fact," he said with a kiss to the tip of her nose, "why don't you just lie back and let me lead this expedition for a while?"

"Okay."

Jessie rolled onto her back, her uncertainty gone. Anticipation brightened her eyes.

He threw back the covers. "Turn over, sweetheart."

like a curious bird, she cocked her head. Then, with an implicit trust that caused the same squeezing sensation in his heart he'd felt before, she smiled at him and tinned onto her stomach.

By heaven, Ben vowed, he'd make this the most memorable night of her life. She was a desirable, passionate woman and he would prove it to her. He surveyed the beautiful offering displayed before him and bent to his pleasurable task.

Her responses were hesitant at first, the clutch of a pillow, the catch of a breath, a muffled cry. But he was patient. He traced the curves of her feminine form, outlining it with his hands from the indentations under her arms to her slender ankles. He ran his fingers over the smooth line of her calf and thigh. He kissed the tender hollows behind her knees and the twin dimples at the base of her spine. He rubbed his cheeks savoringly across the voluptuous swells of her buttocks.

With each caress, every kiss, he praised her beauty, her satiny skin, her softness.

Her first moan came when he nibbled his way up her backbone. She moaned louder and managed to prop herself on her arms when he found the juncture of her neck and shoulder with his tongue and teeth. He tormented that sweet spot until she threw her head back and began planting clumsy, desperate kisses in his hair, on his ear, and anywhere else her lips would reach, punctuating each with a breathless cry. Sensing her need, Ben dragged his mouth to hers and gave her his tongue, at the same time slipping a hand under her arm to cradle her warm, heavy breast in his palm. She covered his hand with hers and pressed. She was awkward, unskilled. Wonderful.

"Jess," he whispered. "Do you know how it feels to have you want me this way?"

"Please, please," she whimpered. "Let me turn over."

Ben raised his upper body and she flipped neatly to her back, reaching immediately to wind her arms around his neck and pull him down for a soul-deep kiss. She groaned, she panted, she writhed under him until he was close to losing his head. He wanted nothing more than to nestle between her legs and let his straining, eager hardness find its snug haven.

Somehow he mustered the strength to break the kiss. "Wait, honey."

He levered his body to the side of the bed and made himself ready for her. Jessie watched, her slender rib cage lifting her opulent breasts with each unsteady breath she took. His pulse quickened. The feast he'd been waiting for was just ahead.

Ignoring the throbbing in his groin, he winked at her. "Now this side."

He'd saved the best for last. He pleasured her breasts in every way he knew, wallowing in their glory. They were sensitive to his thumbs, palms and trailing fingertips. He buried his nose in their fragrant cleft and Jessie delighted him by pushing them in from the sides to trap his face in a prison of softness. And when he put his mouth to the pale, delicate nipples, she nearly went crazy.

She made him greedy. He tongued his way down her rib cage and stomach, kneeling between her legs. He paused to linger at her navel and had just dropped a first soft kiss on the puff of hair guarding her womanly secrets when he noticed her sudden stillness.

"Jess? Does this bother you?"

"I... don't know."

"Should I stop?"

"Yes. I don't know. Maybe."

Ben grinned when he saw her eyes were tightly dosed. "Can we just try it? I want ail of you."

She lifted her lashes. "Really?"

"Really. If you don't like it, I'll stop. Just tell me."

"O-okay, then."

Her attack of nerves was short-lived. He separated the feminine folds with his fingers and placed his tongue on her sensitive flesh. She gasped. Ben's own arousal grew as her enjoyment rose by degrees from sighs to cries. In minutes her hips were arching to meet him, and he felt the singular tightening under his mouth, foreshadowing her release. Excitement gripped him as he applied himself more diligently to her pleasure. She gave a lusty shout and the contractions began.

Ben was ready. He was on her and in her before it was over. He held himself high and unmoving within her heat, close to dying with the pleasure of feeling the fluttering aftershocks of her climax around him.

When at last she was still, he rested on his elbows and kissed her tenderly. "You're beautiful."

"You don't have to say that." She was flushed and breath-less.

"It's true."

Just then his strict control slipped. Without warning, he jerked inside her.

"Oh!" Jessie's eyes widened.

Ben smiled. "Hello. Think you can handle some more?"

She squeezed him with her inner muscles and he closed his eyes. "Oh, baby, that feels good."

He withdrew slightly and she squeezed him again, holding tight this time while he pushed his way back.

Ben groaned. "Jess, honey, I wanted this to last."

She looked pleased with herself. "Should I stop?"

"Hell, no. I'll try to bear up."

To his delight, Jessie caught fire again and made the ascent with him. It didn't last as long as he wanted, but by the time he reached the top, Ben didn't care.

"So what do you think of exploring?" he asked her when they lay recuperating in each other's arms.

"Don't bother me—I'm lying on the beach," she said dreamily. "And the ocean is beautiful today."

"What time is it?"

"Dunno. Nine or ten maybe..Past supper time. Are you hungry?"

"Not hungry enough to get out of bed."

"Good. Me, either."

"I wonder what Allie's doing."

"I'd just as soon forget about your sister right now."

"Oh, no! I did forget—for hours. Ben, my twin sister is in terrible trouble, and I've scarcely given her a thought."

"And it hasn't made her situation any better or worse. Relax, Jess. There's nothing you can do for her until she calls. I, on the other hand, could use a little body heat, and would greatly appreciate it if you'd lie back down."

"I suppose you're right."

"That's better. Damn right I'm right."

"Ben? Were you dating Allie?"

"Uh-uh."

"You kissed her, though."

"Her car broke down one night and I gave her a ride home from work. She kissed me. Once."

"Do you think she's... interested in you?"

"Nope. It wouldn't do her any good if she was."

"Why not?"

"What kind of question is that? I think I've made my choice between the Webster twins pretty clear."

"Still... most men like Allie better, even though we look alike. Even Antonio said he married the wrong twin. At least when we were in the bedroom."

"Your ex-husband is a selfish, stupid son of a bitch. And anybody who picked Allie over you obviously hadn't conducted a kiss comparison."

"Ha! As far as I know, you're the only one who managed that."

"I'm a very enterprising kind of guy."

"Yes, you are. You're also a very... good... kisser."

"You... inspire me...."

"I'm embarrassed."

"Why?"

"I've never been so... unrestrained."

"Yeah, you're pretty loud."

"You needn't sound so smug."

"Why not? I deserve some of the credit for all that panting and groaning."

"When I think back, I can hardly believe that was me."

"It was you, all right. The woman who said she was inhibited."

"I'm serious now, Ben. Did I make you feel—awkward? Did I make a fool of myself ?"

"Honey, you turned me on like I've never been turned on in my life. I love it that I can make you forget yourself like that. You're wonderful."

"You almost make me believe it. I think you're wonderful, too. You have a beautiful body."

"You have a thing for freckles?"

"For yours, I do. I wondered when I first saw you if you had than all over."

"Now you know. I would've been happy to bare my chest sooner, if you'd asked."

"No doubt. You're disgracefully immodest. If s a very nice chest, though. All these muscles, and just enough manly hair to run my fingers through."

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"I'm glad you like it. I'm rather fond of yours, myself."

"I noticed. You pay it an inordinate amount of attention."

"It's worthy of a double portion of consideration. Ouch! Easy on my manly chest hair!''

"That was a very bad joke."

"Be honest. You love my attention."

"To my shame, I do. Tonight's the first time in my life since puberty that I've been pleased with the way Pm built."

"I don't believe it."

"No, if s true. I don't remember a single male in high school who ever looked me in the face. Allie didn't mind—she always liked our figure. But it made me self-conscious. Do you know what we were called? The Hooter Twins. Don't you dare laugh."

"I apologize on behalf of all horny teenage boys everywhere."

"You'ie forgiven. Tell me about your neighborhood program."

"Back to that again, are we? What do you want to know?"

"What do people think of it? Have you gotten the credit for a brilliant idea?"

"I'm not looking for credit. I'd just like to see it put into effect throughout the city. I think it would make a big difference, not only in improved relations between the police department and the public, but also in the crime rate, like it has here."

"If that's true, why don't they do it? Don't they know how well it works?"

"The city council has the statistics, but there's a money problem. Once the program's in place, it doesn't cost any more to run than what we have now, but there's extra expense in setting it up that has to come out of the city budget. We're talking a major revamping, and money is tight. Besides that, not everyone agrees the program would work in the inner city like it does out here in the suburbs. The police commissioner is all for it, but there's enough opposition in the ranks to keep the issue from even being brought to a vote of the council."

"How do you fed about that?"

"Damned frustrated, if you want to know the truth. Somebody's got to do something, and soon, or the gangs and crim-

inals are going to take over our cities altogether. A whole generation of kids could be lost. It's pretty clear the cops can't do it alone."

"You feel strongly about this, don't you?"

"For good reason. Can we change the subject, Jess? Or better yet, stop talking period "

"Ben?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you sleeping?"

"Uh-uh."

"What's it like being undercover?"

"Not nearly as nice as being under the covers with you."

"Be serious. I want to know. Is it terribly dangerous?"

"Sometimes. If you're careless. You learn pretty quick not to be."

"Are you one of those men who gets off on danger and close calls?"

"No way. I'm a peace-lovin' man."

"You have to be a good actor, don't you?"

"Get the stars out of those pretty eyes, Jess. Undercover work isn't a movie. There's nothing glamorous about it."

"Come on, tell me. What's it like?"

"I'll tell you this once, Jess, and then I don't want to talk about it anymore. If s lousy, if you want to know the truth. Being undercover is living a lie every day of your life. It's hobnobbing with the lowest kind of scum and pretending you like it because you're just like them. You meet people—good people—while you're on a job, and you have to ignore them or ridicule them or even hurt them to keep them and anybody else watching from finding out who you are. You get to see the scorn in their eyes, or worse, fear. It's living with the knowledge that things could go bad at any minute and you've got to be ready. Sometimes it's almost forgetting who you are, you play your part so well. Sometimes you feel like you're a criminal yourself."

"Why do you do it, if you feel that way about it?"

"Because it's usually the only way to get the top dogs in an organization so you can shut it down. For that you need evidence. An undercover cop can get it. Jess?"

"What?"

"I'd rather not talk about this now."

"Oh. Well, then, can I ask you about something else? You're one of the most interesting people I've ever met."

"Interesting, huh? Considering what we've been doing for the past several hours, I'm not sure how to take that."

"It's a compliment, of course. I appreciate all your many facets. Were you ever married?"

"Uh-uh. I came close once, though, when I was younger."

"Who was she?"

"A girl I met in college. Her name was Becky."

"What happened?"

"A lot of things. But mostly it was that Becky didn't want to be the wife of a policeman. It's just as well she broke the engagement. Cops don't make good husbands."

"Did you love her?"

"Not enough to give up my plans to be a cop."

"Ed told me you're very dedicated. He said you have a devil on your back."

"I'm not too pleased he was discussing me with you, but thaf s a fair description, I suppose."

"Don't blame Ed. I asked about you. Have you wanted to be a policeman since you were a little boy?"

"No."

"Why, then? Or am I being too nosy?"

"Now, why would you think that?"

"You're being sarcastic. Sorry. I didn't think you minded my curiosity."

"Careful. Here, I've got it."

"Whad are you dooink, Bed? Leggo of by dose."

"I'm just trying to help. It was starting to slip out of joint."

"Very funny. Okay, I won't ask any more questions."

"That'll be the day."

"You know, Antonio never wanted to tell me anything."

"Can we keep your ex-husband out of this bed, Jess?"

"Oops. Sorry."

"I'm a cop because of my sister."

"Your sister? Didn't you tell me you were an only child?"

"I am now. She's dead."

"Oh, Ben, I really am sorry. No wonder you wouldn't answer me. You don't have to say any more."

"It's all right. It's been eleven years."

"Was she younger or older than you?"

"Younger. Her name was Maddie."

"I like that."

"She had freckles, like me, but her hair was copper-colored. In the sunlight, it shone like a new penny."

"You loved her."

"Yeah. I didn't realize how much till she was gone. She thought her big brother set the world and all the planets in motion. And I let her down when she needed me most."

"What happened?"

"She was killed—-beaten and stabbed by a boy she thought was her friend—when she was fifteen."

"Ben, how awful!"

"The kid was high on cocaine. He hung himself when it was over."

"It must have been terrible for you and your parents."

"It was hard. Dad and Mom got through it on their faith, but I didn't have any faith left to draw on. Maddie was gone, she'd suffered, and I couldn't turn to God for comfort when he'd allowed it to happen in the first place. I blamed him for not keeping her safe. And I blamed myself, too."

"Why?"

"I was away at college, and Maddie had called me that week wanting me to come home for the weekend. It was the second time she'd asked. But I told her no, even though I hadn't seen her or my parents for a couple of months. I was too busy with classes and polishing up my master's thesis and helping Becky plan our wedding. Maybe in a few weeks, I told her. In three days she was dead."

"Ben, that wasn't your fault."

"It was. If I'd come home, she'd have been with me at my parents' place instead of with that crazy junkie. She was always so glad to see me, she hardly let me out of her sight when I was there."

"Would you have gone home that weekend if you had known what was going to happen?"

"Hell, yes. I would've left right after Maddie's call if I'd known."

"Of course you would. But you didn't know, and neither did she. Maybe I'm wrong, but it seems to me you had good reasons for not going home—finishing your education, planning your future with your fiancee. That's important stuff."

"Not more important than my sister's life."

"No, but... things happen, Ben. People live their lives the best they know how, and sometimes, like Maddie, they're in the wrong place at the wrong time through no fault of their own. You can't change that. I think you must have been a wonderful brother for her to have loved you like she did. Remember that, and let the other go."

"I can't let it go. You don't know how it was. You're right about one thing—I couldn't change what happened. That enraged me. I wanted revenge, something, anything to get rid of the pent-up feelings inside. The boy who killed her was already dead, so that avenue was closed. But I found a way to make it up to Maddie by going after the people who sold the drugs to that kid."

"You became a policeman."

"Not then. The police had closed the case as a drug-related murder-suicide, and as far as they were concerned, that was that. But I wasn't satisfied. I wanted to know where the boy had gotten the drugs. So I did a little snooping around on my own, got a few leads, and took matters into my own hands. I never did go back to finish my master's. Instead I enrolled in the private high school Maddie's killer had attended. It was my first undercover job."

"Enrolled? As a student?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's incredible! How old were you?"

"Twenty-four. But I was pretty fresh-faced back then, and with a wild haircut and all these freckles, I passed for a kid who was big for his age. After four months I had enough information so the police would listen to me. Then I had their help, and in another four months we broke a big ring of dealers who sold mainly to kids. We were lucky enough to get a substantial cache of drugs and drug money at the same time. I'll never forget the day the arrests were made. That night I slept the whole night

through for the first time since Maddie died. Doing what I'd done helped. It was for Maddie. Then I became a cop—for her."

"What happened to Becky?"

"Her plans for her life didn't include being a cop's wife, so she called it quits. If s kind of ironic, now that I think about it."

"What?"

"I told Maddie I couldn't come home because of school and Becky. Af ter all the dust settled, I never got my master's degree and never got married. Crazy how things work out sometimes. Hey, what's this? You're not going to cry, are you?"

"I'm trying my darnedest not to. Come here, you."

"Mmm. You do feel nice all squashed up against me. Don't cry for me, Jess. Just think, if things had been different, tonight would never have happened. We probably wouldn't have even met. On second thought, maybe I'll cry with you."

"You devil. Stop trampling on my tender feelings. I'm trying to comfort you."

"Hmm. Maybe you're right. Wouldn't want to shoot myself in the foot here. Go on with what you were doing. I'm starting to feel better already."

Carefully Jessie reached over Ben's sprawled, slumbering body to turn off the lamp. He mumbled unintelligibly as her breasts brushed his chest She felt his big hand sweep up her side to gently squeeze her before he settled back into sleep.

Poor baby, she thought as she pulled up the covers and snuggled down next to him. He was exhausted, and no wonder. She'd lost count of the times they'd made love.

Jessie was tired, too, her body pleasantly aching from the night's workout. She still couldn't believe the responses Ben had pulled from her or her own greedy demands—demands he'd met and fulfilled without exception. He'd awakened her sleeping sexuality and turned her into a woman she didn't recognize. In the process he'd given her something she hadn't even known she was missing—her womanhood. She was exhilarated with the prize.

Infinitely more precious, though, were the quiet moments of discovery when the two of them had lain entwined in lovers' intimacy, touching the nakedness of their souls along with that

of their bodies. In one night she'd learned more about Ben than she had about Antonio in years. To Jessie, that simple act of sharing their most private selves was far more significant than their physical joining, spectacular as that had been. In fact, for her it was what had made the sex so wonderful. She'd never felt so close to another human being, not even Allie.

Now it was hard to believe she'd fought the attraction between them. The only explanation was that the lingering scars of her marriage had blinded her to everything but her inability to control the fast-moving events that had brought Ben into her life. He was there, a handy outlet for her frustration, and she'd stupidly blamed him for all of it. It just showed that in some ways, she was still letting Antonio call the shots.

But her eyes were wide open now. The night had proved that Ben was nothing like her ex-husband.

Well, he was a little bossy, but only at those times when he was trying to do his job and keep her safe. How could she condemn him for that? He had told her how important his work was to him, and she understood, probably more than he thought she did. He was fighting demons of guilt and obligation over something that hadn't been his fault at all.

His tough-cop persona hid a warm, caring man who felt things deeply. Up till now he'd fought his battles alone, but no longer, Jessie vowed. Maybe he didn't realize it yet, but he needed her, he needed her love. Just as he had freed her from the constricting bonds left over from her past, she would help him to break loose from his self-imposed penance over Mad-die. He'd been living under that cloud for too long.

She loved him; they were meant to be together. Jessie knew it in every fiber of her being.

Chapter 10

lien's eyes shot open when the phone rang. Jessie stirred in his arms and murmured drowsily. Reluctantly he disentangled himself from her sweet warmth and whispered, "Go back to sleep, Jess. I'll get it."

He slipped out of bed and turned off the ringer on the bedside phone. Naked, he padded to the telephone in the living room, catching it in the middle of a ring.

"Hello?"

There was a brief hesitation on the other end, and a female voice said, "Who is this?"

"Allie?" At once Ben's hazy mind cleared. "This is Ben. Where are you calling from?"

"Never mind where J am—where's my sister? Why are you answering her phone?"

"We had her calls forwarded to my number. She's staying with me." Ben's brain identified the background noise coming through the earpiece as highway traffic. "Where are you?"

"Why is she staying with you? Oh, never mind. Let me talk to her."

"She's still in bed."

Another telling silence. "You're sleeping with her?"

Avoiding a direct answer, Ben snapped, "I'm doing precious little sleeping these days. Thanks to you, your sister needs a bodyguard, and I've been elected for the job. Now the sooner you turn that journal over to the authorities, the sooner life can get back to normal for all of us."

"That's what I'm trying to do. Look, Ben, Fm on the road back to Chicago, and somebody is waiting to use this phone, so I don't have a lot of time to talk. Jessie says you're a cop, and you sure as hell sound like one all of a sudden, so I want to make a deal. An exclusive for the journal. Can you do that?"

"No, I can't. I'm not authorized to make any deals. The best thing for you to do is find the nearest police station and—"

"No, dammit! I'll hand it over to whoever can promise me this story and nobody else. So you might as well tell me who that is."

"What happened to the breezy, free-wheeling Angela we all know and love?" Ben asked sarcastically.

"Give me a name, Ben."

"An FBI agent named Cal Leutzinger," he said. "But I wouldn't count on a deal if I were you."

"Just have him ready to see me. I'll take care of the rest."

"Don't be dumb, Allie. You can't come into town on your own. It's not safe."

"Let me worry about that. I have a plan. Jeez, I'd better hurry—if s cold, and this woman out here is getting impatient. Tell that FBI guy to meet me at two o'clock today, okay? Oh, and thanks for taking care of Jessie. I didn't mean for her to get involved."

"Wait a minute—"

"Gotta go now. Bye."

"Wait! Allie—" But Allie had already hung up. He wondered how long it would take her to figure out she hadn't designated a meeting place. "Damn."

Ben put the receiver into its cradle, thought a second and picked it back up to press in Leutzinger's home phone number.

Five minutes later he hung up the phone, damning Allie Webster, Cal Leutzinger and life in general. He hadn't anticipated this turn of events.

He didn't notice Jessie standing just inside the hallway until she spoke.

"Good morning."

He turned, his irritation forgotten. Wearing a shy smile and the shirt he had tossed aside last night in his haste, Jessie looked rumpled and very, very sexy.

For a moment the adoring look in her eyes gave him pause, but he pushed aside the unsettling feeling and went to her. She came into his arms willingly, turning up her mouth for a soft, fleeting kiss.

"Good morning." He kept his face close and nuzzled his nose against hers. "You taste like mint."

"I borrowed your toothbrush."

"And my shirt, too, I see." She had left the three top buttons undone, providing him with a tempting view. Ben leaned away and ogled it blatantly.

"I hope you don't mind."

They kissed again, long and deep. Soon Jessie's arms were clasped around Ben's neck and his hands were moving under the too-big shirt. The feel of her soft skin sent a vibration of possessiveness shuddering through him, unexplainable but urgent. He hoisted her up by her bottom and pulled his lips away only long enough to gasp, "Put your legs around me." Compliantly she enclosed his waist in a sweet girdle of smooth feminine muscle. He carried her back to the bedroom and tumbled her onto the mussed bedding.

As he reached for protection he studied her, wondering about the need she effortlessly drew from him. Even after last night, he wanted her.

It was just the sex, he told himself. It wouldn't do to get carried away with dreams and emotions he had no business entertaining. He'd better watch it, or before he knew it, he'd be in too deep to get out comfortably. But it felt too good to stop now.

Jessie reached for him. Ben came down on top of her, his niggling concerns forgotten as he lay claim yet again to the secrets of her body.

Later he rolled to his back, pulling Jessie with him. Wearily he arranged her pliant body along his side and declared with a sigh, "I am a satisfied man."

Jessie flopped a limp hand onto his chest and stroked his damp skin and hair lethargically. "Does that mean we're not going to do it anymore?"

Ben, whose eyes were closed, heard the sated note in her droll wisecrack and chuckled. "You'll be the death of me, woman."

"You're safe for a while," she murmured, and yawned. "I think I'll sleep the day away."

"No, you can't." Ben's feeling of well-being fled. "Don't go to sleep, Jess. We've got company coming."

"We do? Who?"

"Cal Leutzinger. I forgot to tell you—Allie called earlier, while you were still asleep."

Jessie raised her head. "Why didn't you wake me? I wanted to talk to her."

"You probably should have. / sure didn't get anywhere with her."

"What did she say?"

"Not enough." Ben related abbreviated versions of Allie's call and his subsequent conversation with Leutzinger. "When she calls back to set a meeting place, he wants to be here so he can talk to her himself."

Jessie listened thoughtfully. "How dangerous do you think it is for Allie to come to Chicago by herself ?"

"I don't know, Jess. Leutzinger did say if anyone is trying to find that journal, they're probably watching for her in Port Mangus and Sheboygan rather than Chicago."

"Why does he think that?"

"Because there's been an APB out on Allie's car in three states since yesterday. No one has reported spotting her. Plus she was smart enough to make a withdrawal of several hundred dollars from her account on Wednesday and hasn't used any credit cards in the meantime. Which shows she's doing some thinking."

Jessie's brows knit together in a frown. "When did they find out all that stuff?"

"They've been working on it since yesterday afternoon. What it means is, if the FBI hasn't been able to trace her movements, it's not likely anyone else has, either. From what you've told me, you're her only obvious connection in Chicago. So if the worst case happens and the wrong people know

you're sisters, Allie knows you're here with me. There's no reason for her to go to your apartment. My guess is she'll be okay. Hopefully when she calls again, you'll be able to talk her into turning the journal and herself in."

""I\irn herself in'? You make her sound like someone who's committed a crime. Agent Leutzinger hinted at the same thing yesterday. You'ie both wrong about her."

"Easy, Jess. You know what I meant. Allie hasn't exactly been cooperative with us, but I believe she does intend to turn over the journal. And so far she hasn't broken any laws. At least none that she'll be charged with."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, she stole that journal. But without Mai Duan to press charges against her, she won't be arrested. And Mai's missing, remember? Even if she shows up again, I doubt she'll want to call police attention to a piece of evidence that would almost certainly incriminate her."

Jessie fell silent. Having given her that bit of oversimplified hedging to chew on, Ben stretched out his arm and patted her bare bottom.

"Try not to think about it, honey. We have other things to worry about right now, like getting up and dressed before Leutzinger gets here. I don't know about you, but I could use a shower. How about it? I wash your back, you wash mine?" He waggled his eyebrows.

Jessie's stomach chose that moment to growl expansively.

He grinned down at her. "On second thought, breakfast first."

Together they raided Ben's bounteous freezer. At his request, Jessie ate her microwave pancakes dressed only in his shirt. He'd found her a pair of heavy wool socks to keep her legs and feet warm, a consideration that charmed bar.

They spoke little during the meal. Obviously tired from their night of passion, Ben was indifferently groomed in an old gray sweatshirt and yesterday's jeans. He hadn't shaved, and his hair was rumpled from a haphazard finger-combing. But the slumberous cast of his tilted eyes put Jessie in mind of hot need and sweet release. Just looking at him was enough to keep her warm.

"You're very quiet/* she observed when they'd finished eating. "Is it something I said?"

He pushed his chair back and started gathering their dishes. "Not you—Leutzinger. Having him come over here makes me edgy."

"You surprise me. I didn't think you were the type to be intimidated by your boss. Here, let me help with that." Jessie got up from the table and joined him at the kitchen sink.

"Pm not intimidated. I just don't like it. You want to rinse and stack these in the dishwasher?"

"Sure." She nudged him out of the way.

Ben took on the remaining chores, wordlessly putting away the syrup and wiping down the table and countertops. As he worked, his tension seemed to increase until it emanated from his body like shimmering waves of heat from sunbaked asphalt.

Bemused by his brooding silence, Jessie finished her job quickly and reached to dry her hands. Without warning, Ben came up behind her, his lean, hard body crowding her stomach against the edge of the counter. She felt him, solid and male, all up and down her backside as he folded the cloth he'd been using and hung it with exaggerated care beside the towel.

He must have shaken off his dark mood, Jessie thought. She wriggled her rear end against his fly and grinned, leaning back to look at him.

His mouth came down hard on hers, pushing her head into his shoulder. She felt his palms on her bare thighs, sliding up under her shirt and nestling like spoons beneath her breasts. His tongue tasted of syrup and greedy pleasure.

"Sweet, sweet Jess," he whispered into her ear. "You know what I wish?"

"What?"

"I wish Leutzinger and your sister and everybody else in the whole damn world would just go away and leave us alone."

"What a lovely thought." Jessie turned in his arms and searched his face. She didn't fully understand the message she read there, but suddenly the words that had been hovering in her heart since the early morning rose and pushed against her tongue.

"I love you, Ben."

His eyes flickered the second before he averted them. "You don't love me, Jess," he said gently.

A fist squeezed Jessie's heart. "I don't?"

He shook his head. "You're confusing love with lust. Sex is a powerful thing, and I'm the first man to really satisfy you in bed, so..."

"You needn't talk to me like I'm still in kindergarten, Ben." Jessie stepped out of his arms. "And I don't need you to tell me what I feel. I'm a grown woman."

A stupid grown woman who doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut, she clarified silently.

"Believe me, I know you are. And I'm not the kind of man

you... you deserve " His raking fingers messed up his hair

even more, and he shook his head soberly. "Don't fall in love with me, Jessie. There's no future in it. Just enjoy what we've got."

Jessie's confidence slipped in the face of his absolute statement. His bluntness hurt. No future? Was she wrong to love him? Had he lived without love so long, he had none to give back? Maybe she was a fool to think hers could erase his darkness and make him happy.

But she rallied when she remembered her early morning vow. She couldn't give up on him so soon. One thing she'd learned from her marriage was to fight for what she wanted. Ben cared for her, she knew he did. She couldn't have been mistaken in what she'd felt from him last night. No, he was the one who didn't know the difference between love and lust.

Jessie shored up her determination. "Maybe you're right," she told him lightly. "Now how about that shower? I'll give you first dibs."

Ben looked doubtful, as though unsure he had gotten his point across, but then he shrugged. Apparently he'd decided to leave well enough alone. "You're not joining me?"

"Uh-uh. Time's awasting, and I'd probably be tempted to jump your bones again."

"I might be tempted to let you."

His eyes took on a familiar gleam that Jessie was relieved to see. She hadn't scared him off.

She summoned a laugh and shooed him out of the kitchen.

Two cars buzzed in at Ben's gate at about ten. Leutzinger drove the first, and the second, to Ben's annoyance, held Rory Douglas.

Ben held the agent back at the door, letting Douglas enter the house ahead of them. "What's he doing here?"

Leutzinger looked at him quizzically. "When I called to tell him what was going on, he asked to come along. As prosecutor, he has a vested interest in this case, so I didn't see any reason to say no. Was I wrong?"

It would suit Ben just fine to never see the man again, but he shook his head. "Nah. It doesn't matter."

They entered the house just in time to see Douglas's eyes light up when he spotted Jessie, who was looking gorgeous in the suit she'd worn yesterday. Ben quickly moved in to stand beside her. He endured the handshake Douglas forced on her, even though he felt like lopping off the man's arm at the elbow. Jessie didn't dawdle over the greeting; she turned at once to extend the same courtesy to Leutzinger.

With the amenities over, an awkward silence fell. Jessie looked at Ben, eyebrows raised. She indicated the topcoats both men wore against the near-freezing temperature outside. "These gentlemen would probably like to take off their coats."

Ben lifted his shoulders in an I-could-care-less shrug. He'd be damned if he'd play the role of fawning host to a couple of intruders. He pointed. "There's the closet, gentlemen."

Jessie cast a puzzled glance at him when Leutzinger and Douglas turned their backs. Ben pretended to ignore her by sauntering over to a window and staring out.

"Nice place," Leutzinger said after hanging up his coat. "Has the woman called yet?"

"Not since this morning."

Ben's succinct retort did not invite further comment; thankfully, none was offered.

He felt jumpy inside, uneasy. This feeling that something was unraveling had started when he realized he couldn't dissuade Leutzinger from coming over today. It had increased every time he thought about that uncomfortable scene in the kitchen with Jessie earlier. And now that his boss had showed up with Rory Douglas in tow, it was worse than ever.

The two men inside these walls felt like a violation. For the first time since Ben had bought this place for a sanctuary, the

separate parts of his segmented existence were coming together, overlapping.

He'd never been one to frequent the hangouts where cops gathered to let off steam over a few beers, nor did he accept invitations to the homes of fellow officers. That kind of socializing was fine for others, even necessary, but Ben had never felt that he truly belonged to the unique brotherhood of his profession.

He'd found his own way of dealing with the pressures of the job—here, under the roof of this old farmhouse. Except for the plumbing and electrical work, every bit of renovation was the product of his own planning and the labor of his own hands, plotted and executed exactly, down to the shade of varnish on the baseboards. It was straightforward, rewarding work over which he exerted absolute control.

Ben took a great deal of satisfaction from the results.

The house was a haven he had so far kept segregated from his life as an undercover cop. Here he could almost forget who he was in that other, dirtier world where lies prevailed and anything could happen.

Leutzinger and Douglas didn't belong in his peaceful refuge.

"Wouldn't it be more comfortable if we all sat down?" The strained suggestion came from Jessie. Apparently they'd all been waiting for an engraved invitation to use his sofa and chairs.

"By all means," Ben said grudgingly. "Have a seat."

Some of his annoyance faded when he saw Jessie's pink cheeks. She was embarrassed over his less-than-welcoming attitude. Something inside him gave a little.

"There's a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen," he said. "Since we don't know how long we have to wait until Allfc calls, I'll get everybody their first cup. After that, you're on your own. Give me a hand, Jess?"

When they were alone in the kitchen, she folded her arms and studied him. "If you're bucking for host of the year, I think you need a little polishing up."

"Hey, I didn't invite than. I'd just as soon they didn't get too comfortable."

"I don't think you have to worry about that* They probably fed about as welcome as the swine flu."

"Good. Then they'll leave as soon as possible." Ben poured coffee into the mugs he'd lined up on the counter.

* * Come on, Ben. The time is going to creep by for all of us if you don't show some common courtesy."

"Why should I? This is my home. I come here to get away from reminders of my work, not to have them knocking on my front door."

Jessie compressed her lips. "Is it those two in particular, or does that apply to all your guests—including me? I'm connected to the case you're working on."

Ben's hand slipped and a tiny puddle of coffee splashed onto the counter. She had him there. He'd broken his own rules by suggesting to Leutzinger that he guard Jessie in his well-fortified home. This was the one place where he tried to forget he was a cop, and Jessie's presence brought countless reminders. Why hadn't she spoiled the peace he found here, as Leutzinger and Douglas had?

It must be the sex, of course, he assured himself for the second time that day. Which was one more reason to wish the two men in the living room to perdition.

"Well?" Jessie demanded impatiently. "Do you resent my being here?"

She looked cute when she was mad at him, but Ben knew bettor than to tell her that. He placed a steaming mug into each of her hands and picked up the other two.

"No," he said, dropping a quick kiss on her mouth, "I don't." He turned and strode into the living room, leaving a befuddled-looking Jessie to follow.

"Rory here tells me the two of you played football together in high school, Ben." Leutzinger accepted the mug Ben handed him.

Ben glanced at Rory. "Yeah, we did."

"That's right," his old rival said heartily. "Old Ben here was our star quarterback, weren't you, Ben? They called him 'Struttin' Sutton.'"

Ben shrugged and took a sip of his coffee.

"Come on, don't be modest." Douglas smiled at him and said to Leutzinger, "The teachers and coaches all loved this guy. They used to hold him up to the rest of us as a model of what we all should be."

"That's a slight exaggeration," Ben said warily.

"Not too many of us were cut out to be men of the cloth, though, not like Ben," Rory went on doggedly. "Did you know that Ben had studied to be a minister, Miss Webster?"

Jessie said faintly, "No, I didn't, but I don't think—"

"What happened, Ben? You could have knocked me over with a feather when a buddy told me at our ten-year reunion that you'd become a cop. Everybody in the old gym was hoping you'd show up that night, so we could get the scoop on what changed your mind."

Ben masked his irritation behind a tight smile. Douglas's eyes were fairly glowing with unholy speculation. Evidently he was nursing old grudges and still retained his bullying tendencies from the old days. Well, Ben thought, this time he had underestimated his opponent. Ben Sutton had stopped turning the other cheek a long time ago.

"If s a dull story," he said. "Yours is far more interesting, Rory. Why don't we talk about the old neighborhood? The stories we could tell, right? I'm sure Cal and Jessie would be fascinated."

Douglas opened his mouth, then closed it. Ben mentally chalked up the point. Just as he suspected, Rory was touchy about his humble beginnings.

Ben let the silence go on for an uncomfortably long time before he said, "No? Oh, well, come to think of it, high school nostalgia is pretty boring stuff to outsiders. Sorry, Jessie...Cal."

Rory looked furious, but Leutzinger only shrugged.

Jessie caught Ben's eye and he winked at her. She winked back, surprising a grin out of him.

Ben suddenly felt expansive toward his guests, even Rory. "Anyone for more coffee?"

Sometime later, Jessie wandered to a window to gaze out at the November morning. The sky was overcast, and she could

almost see the frost in the stiff wind that bent the bare branches of the trees in Ben's yard.

"Bored?" Ben asked softly. She turned around and found him standing close.

"I'm not into golf," she whispered back, glancing over her shoulder at the match Douglas and Leutzinger were watching on TV. Neither man seemed aware of the conversation going on behind them.

"What's between you and Rory Douglas, anyway?" she asked.

"A lot of bad memories I'd just as soon not talk about," Ben said. He, like Jessie, kept his voice low.

"I knew there was something I didn't like about the man. What did he do to you?" She was firmly on Bra's side, whatever had happened.

"Nothing, really, at least nothing specific. You know kids. We were friends once, but then he turned against me. He grabbed every chance he could to make me look stupid or uncomfortable in front of other people."

Jessie remembered Douglas's type from her own school years. "He was probably jealous of you and tried to put you down to make himself look better. When he didn't succeed, he disliked you all the more."

Ben smiled and brushed her cheek with his knuckle. "You could be right. I was an overachiever in those days and usually got what I went after. More times than not I was in competition with Rory."

"Is it true you wanted to be a minister?"

The smile disappeared, and Jessie saw the shadow in his eyes just before he turned away to look out the window. The light from outside turned the coffee-colored locks at his forehead to shining strands of silver. "That was a long time ago," he said quietly. "I realized when Maddie died it was a bad career choi-"

The telephone rang, and their eyes locked. Jessie said, "Al-lie."

Ben hurried to answer. The caller was indeed her twin, Jessie gathered. Ben wasted no time in introducing Leutzinger and passing the phone over to him.

Allie apparently had her speech prepared, because after identifying himself, the agent stood listening for what seemed to Jessie a long time. Finally he glanced at Rory Douglas and said, "I have the prosecutor for this case right here. I'll have to okay it with him first. Where do you want us to meet you?"

Allie's answer did not please him. He lowered the phone and covered the mouthpiece with his palm. "She won't give us a location until we agree to her terms," he told Douglas grimly. "And that's not all. She says she's got enough dirt for a hell of a story whether we play her way or not."

"Meaning?" Douglas asked.

"Meaning we give her what she wants, or she writes the story before she hands over the evidence."

"And there goes our case," Ben said.

"Your case? What about Allie's safety?" Jessie's voice was strident. "Don't any of you caie that somebody may be out there looking for her and that journal?"

"Of course we care," Leutzinger told her patiently. "But your sister is being extremely bullheaded, Miss Webster. We've offered her protection, and she's refused by choice, strictly out of her own interests. Now she's jeopardizing an investigation that could put away some major crime figures. It takes time to build sufficient evidence to convict in these cases, time that your sister is threatening to take away from us."

"She's giving us a good case for obstruction of justice," Douglas added.

Jessie began to see the magnitude of the trouble Allie was in. "Let me talk to her." She took the phone. "Allie?"

"Jessie? Jeez, I was beginning to think Leutzinger had fallen asleep over there. He's not tracing this call, is he?"

"No, of course not. Listen to me, Allie. You've got to forget about this story and cooperate with the FBI. They told me you're breaking the law. Please, tell them where you are so they can come and get you. There are people who would kill you to get that journal. I want you to be safe!"

There was a long silence. "Don't worry, sis, I'm safe. I'm wearing a disguise so good even you wouldn't recognize me," Allie finally said in an sardonic voice. "But I don't get it. These

guys make deals with criminals all the time—why not with me?"

"Forget about the deal! Your life is in danger!"

"Settle down, Jessie. Fm okay, really. Listen, do you think these guys are really serious about charging me with something?"

Jessie looked at the three men watching her. "I don't know. I think so."

"Then you tell Leutzinger I've just upped the ante. The journal plus freedom from prosecution for my exclusive. Damn, this is no good over the phone. What does this guy look like?"

"Who, Leutzinger?"

"Oh, never mind what he looks like. Tell him to wear a flower in his lapel and stand by the elephants in the museum at two o'clock sharp. I'll find him. Bye, Jessie. Don't worry about me."

Jessie took the phone from her ear. ' 'She hung up."

"Dammit!" That was Leutzinger.

"Did she give you a meeting place?" Douglas asked.

"Yes, but there's more." Jessie related Allie's demands.

The men looked at one another.

"She has us over a barrel," Douglas said.

Leutzinger snapped, "So she thinks. Fm still concerned about the integrity of our investigation. This woman is hungry to make a name for herself. I don't think we can trust her to hold the story until we're ready for it to break."

"We can if we keep her in protective custody," Ben said.

"Wouldn't she have to agree to that?" Allie asked.

"Good point," said Douglas. "She doesn't seem to be overly concerned about her safety, and there's not much chance she'll voluntarily turn herself over just so we can keep an eye on her. You'll have to arrest her."

"But what about the deal?" Jessie was alarmed by the turn of the conversation.

Leutzinger said, "We haven't made a deal yet. Where does your sister want us to meet her?"

She thought fast. "You'll have to get a flower for your lapel so she'll know who you are."

"A flower!" Leutzinger rolled his eyes. "Okay, where will she be?"

Jessie crossed her fingers behind her back. "By the elephants/' she said, quavering inside, "at Brookfield Zoo."

Chapter 11

-Heart pounding, Jessie straggled to keep her deception from showing on her face. She'd never been a good liar, and now she avoided looking Ben in the eye. Of the three men, he was the one most likely to see through her subterfuge.

Though she wasn't sure where to go from here, she had to try to keep Allie from walking into what amounted to a trap. For once her twin needed her help, and Jessie couldn't let her down.

Ben, apparently remembering his duties as host at last, went to the closet and handed the other men their topcoats. Leut-zinger checked his watch, grumbling that Allie hadn't given him much time to set things up, a meeting outdoors in November was damned idiotic, and where in the hell was he going to find a flower?

Jessie had a bad moment when she realized Rory Douglas was watching her during Leutzinger's complaining, but she looked at him with an innocent smile. He returned a bland one of his own and prepared to leave without comment.

If she wasn't challenged, she'd be fine, she told herself. She just had to hang on.

In the general flurry of activity, she noticed Ben slipping into his leather jacket. "Are you going, too?" she asked hopefully.

That would certainly simplify her task. She knew it wasn't enough just to send Leutzinger and Douglas on a wild-goose-make that elephant—chase. Somehow she had to get to Allie with a warning.

"Nope/' Ben yanked his jacket zipper all the way to the collar. "My job is to look after you. I'm just walking Cal and Rory to their cars."

So she would have to deal with him, after all, she thought with an inner sigh. Well, she didn't have time to talk him into helping her, if that was even possible. She'd have to work around him.

He pressed a large squarish button next to the doorjamb.

"What's that?"

"It opens the front gate. You stay put. I'll be right back."

Jessie waited until he'd followed the other men out, then eyed the button he'd just pushed. She hadn't given the gate a thought until now. What else was there lurking in her path that she hadn't considered? For an instant her determination wavered.

But she shook off her apprehension, deciding that finding out how the gate opened from the inside was a good omen. That was one obstacle she didn't have to face. Anything else, she would confront as it came.

Knowing there was no time to waste, she hurried to the phone to call a cab. Momentarily stymied when the dispatcher asked for an address, she spied a news journal on the table next to Ben's recliner. A subscription magazine with an address label. She read the address into the phone and hung up, relieved. That took care of transportation.

Now all she had to do was figure out a way to keep her bodyguard occupied while she sneaked away.

She was in the kitchen heating a couple of cans of thick, beefy soup when Ben spoke from the kitchen doorway. "What*re you up to in here?"

Jessie glanced over her shoulder, her insides churning. She hated what she was doing, necessary though it was. "Fixing lunch. This whole thing with Allie has made me headachy, and I thought food might help. Is it okay that I snooped and found this soup in the pantry?"

Ben came up beside her and took the wooden spoon out of her hand. "Do you need some aspirin?"

"Oh, no, I'm sure I'll be all right once I've eaten."

"Let me do this. You sit down by the table and rest."

He sounded so solicitous, Jessie felt doubly guilty as she let him gently push her away from the stove. Then she remembered what he and his cohorts had planned for Allie. She took a seat at the table, her resolve hardening.

"You were gone a long time," she said. "What did you have to talk about out there that you couldn't say in front of me?"

"We weren't hiding anything from you," Ben said. "I was just saving time by walking Cal out. He only has a little over an hour to coordinate the rendezvous and I wanted to see what he had planned." He filled two bowls from the steaming pan, grabbed a couple of spoons out of a drawer, and brought soup and utensils to the table in one trip.

Jessie picked up her spoon. "What does he have planned?"

Ben stirred the brothy mixture in his bowl. "If s a pretty standard operation. Nothing more than a couple of extra men to ensure Allie's safety."

Jessie snorted. "Oh, sure, her safety is a big problem. Right after getting her handcuffed."

"Hopefully, she'll go along with them and it won't come to that."

Jessie's head snapped up. "You mean, they would actually put handcuffs on her? In public?"

"There's a lot at stake here, Jess. Surely you understand that protecting Allie from public embarrassment doesn't rank very high in importance right now. Leutzinger will have to do whatever is necessary to get that journal and keep our investigation quiet. Anyway, if s not likely there will be many witnesses at the zoo in this weather."

Upset at his callous disregard of Allie's sensibilities, Jessie stood up, ready to tell him just what he could do with his investigation. Barely in time she remembered her plan and swallowed her angry words. It was more crucial than ever that her ruse be successful. "Oh!" she cried, lifting a hand to her eyes as though she were in pain.

In an instant Ben was beside her, one arm around her waist while his other hand gently brushed the hair away from her face. "What's the matter, honey? Are you dizzy?"