"It's all right. You'll have everything you need. Books, TV, company. I'll rent movies for you, cook your meals. I've bought clothes for you." He sprang up to slide open another panel. "See? I spent weeks choosing just the right things." He gestured inside to the closet full of slacks and dresses and jackets. "And there's shirts and sweaters, nightclothes and underthings in the bureau. Over here…" He pushed open another hidden door. "The bathroom."

He flushed, stared at his shoes. "There aren't any cameras in there. I swear. I wouldn't spy on you in the bathroom. I stocked your favorite bath oils and soaps, your cosmetics. You'll have everything you need."

Everything you need. Everything you need. The words spun around and around in her head. She couldn't keep the hitch out of her voice. "I don't want to be locked up."

"I'm sorry. That's the only thing I can't give you right now. Soon, when you've really come to understand, it'll be different. But anything else you want, I'll get for you. Whenever I have to leave, you'll be all right here. The room's secure, soundproofed. Even if someone came into the house, they wouldn't find you. Outside the door is a bookcase. It's really cool. I designed it myself. No one would ever guess there was a room in here, so you'll be safe and sound whenever I'm gone. And when I'm busy around the house, I can watch you." He pointed toward the cameras. "So if you need me, I'll know."

"They'll come and find me, Jeff. Sooner or later. They won't understand. You have to let me go."

"No, I have to keep you. Do you want to watch TV?" He crossed over, picked up the remote from the nightstand. "We have full cable."

Fighting back a hysterical laugh, she pressed her fingers to her eyes. "No, no, not now."

"You can watch whenever you want. And the shelf is full of videos. Movies, and tapes I've taken of you. And the scrapbooks." He bustled around the room, an energetic host anxious to entertain. "I've kept them for you. Everything that's ever been written up on you is in here. Or there's the stereo. I have all your favorite music. There's a little refrigerator in the bathroom that I stocked with drinks and snacks."

"Jeff." She could reel that bubble of panic swelling. Her hands shook as she stood. "You've gone to a lot of trouble. I understand that. And I understand that you've done what you thought you had to do. But this is wrong. You're keeping me prisoner."

"No, no, no." He came to her quickly, grabbing her hands when she jerked back. "You're like the princess in the fairy tale, and I'm protecting you. I'm cherishing you. It's like you're under a spell, Dee. One day you'll wake up and I'll be here. And we'll be happy."

"I'm not under a spell." She yanked away, fury simmering under fear like an exotic stew. "And I'm not a goddamn princess. I'm a human being, with the right to make my own choices. You can't lock me up and expect me to be grateful because I've got bathroom privileges."

"I knew you'd be angry at first." Disappointment sighed through his voice as he reached down for her dinner dishes. "But you'll calm down."

"The hell I will." She leaped at him, striking out with her free hand. The first blow glanced off his cheekbone. China shattered on the floor and flew like bullets. Snarling, she scrambled after a shard.

She screamed, fighting like a madwoman as he wrestled her to the floor. He was strong, so much stronger than he looked with those long, gangly arms. He made no sound, no sound at all, simply clamped a hand painfully on her wrist until her fingers opened to release the makeshift weapon.

He dragged her to the bed, stoically suffering her flailing feet and fists. When she was pressed under him, his erection hard against her thigh, her terror doubled.

There were worse things than being locked in. "No!" She tried to buck him off, her fingers fisting and unfisting while he clamped her hands over her head.

"I want you, Deanna. God, I want you." His fumbling kiss dampened her jaw. The sensation of her body writhing beneath his had a red haze of need cloaking his vision. Her heart was chugging like a piston against his, and her skin was soft as water, hot as fire. "Please, please." He was almost weeping as his mouth covered hers. "Just let me touch you."

"No." Sickened, she turned her head. Control. She grasped onto her only hope. "You'd be no better than Jamie. You're hurting me, Jeff. You have to stop hurting me."

Tears tracked down his cheeks when he lifted his head. "I'm sorry. Deanna, I'm so sorry. It's just that I've waited so long. We won't make love until you're ready. I swear it. Don't be afraid of me."

"I am afraid." He wouldn't rape her, she realized, and was almost ashamed that she was willing to settle for that. "You have me locked up. You've told me no one can find me. What if something happened to you? I could die here."

"Nothing's going to happen. I've planned everything, every detail. I love you, Deanna, and I know under it all, you love me too. You've shown me in hundreds of ways. The way you smile at me. The way you touch me, or laugh. The way you'll catch my eye across the room. You made me your director. I can't begin to explain what that meant to me. You trusted me to guide you. You believed in me. In us."

"It's not love. I don't love you." "You're just not ready yet. Now you need to rest." He braceleted her wrists in one hand, fought the hypo free with the other.

"No. Don't." She twisted, wrenched, begged. "Please don't. I can't go anywhere. You've said I can't get away."

"You need to rest," he said quietly, and slid the needle under her skin. "I'll watch out for you, Deanna."

Her head lolled back, and his tears fell to mix with hers. He waited, miserably, until her struggles to fight off the drug ceased. When her body went limp, he clamped down on the urge to stroke his hands over it.

Not until she's ready, he reminded himself, content to brush the dampness from her cheeks. Gently, he shifted her onto the pillows and placed a chaste kiss on her brow.

His princess, he thought, studying her as she slept. He'd built her an ivory tower. They'd live there together. Forever.

"Isn't she perfect, Uncle Matthew? Isn't she beautiful? You'd have loved her too. You'd have known she was the one, the only one."

He sighed. Uncle Matthew wasn't speaking to him. He'd been wrong to allow sex to twist his plans. He'd have to be punished. Bread and water only for two days. That's what his uncle would have done. Meekly he crouched down to clean up the broken dishes. He tidied the room, turned the lights down. With one last, longing glance at Deanna, he slipped out of the room, shutting the panel silently.


"I think it would be best if you'd take Miss Reynolds home." Jenner rode up in the elevator with Finn. He still resented Finn's earlier pressuring but he covered it with quiet dignity. "I'd prefer that she was out of the office when we re-interrogate her staff."

"The minute she finds out that's what you intend to do, she won't budge." Pleased that matters seemed to be moving forward, Finn leaned against the wall. "I'll do what I can to convince her to stay out of the way, but that's the best I can offer. Deanna's fiercely loyal. She won't want to accept that one of her own people is involved."

"She may have to." Jenner headed out of the car the moment the doors opened. "If she kicks up too much of a fuss, we can take her people in to the station. She'll like that less."

"You can try. You don't know her the way I do, Lieutenant. Cassie," he said as he walked into the reception area. "She in?"

"No." Baffled, she stopped gathering the stacks of mail she'd intended to post on the way home. "What are you doing here?"

"Cassie Drew?" Jenner inclined his head. "We'd like to ask you some more questions. I wonder if you could get the rest of Miss Reynolds's staff together?"

"I–I don't know who's still in the building. Finn?"

"Why don't you buzz everyone," he suggested. "And find Deanna for me, will you?" He wanted to get her out, and quickly. Some instinct told him to hurry. He intended to heed it. "Tell her I'm in the mood to cook."

"She's gone home. She left right after you called."

"I called?" He felt uneasy. "Did

Deanna tell you I called?"

"No, you left a message about a meeting, and getting home early. It came in during her fitting, and she left as soon as she was done." Finn shoved open the door to Deanna's office, took one quick scan. "Did you take the message?"

"No, I was in with her when it came in. Jeff took it."

His eyes were like blue ice when he turned back. "Did he say he spoke to me?"

"Yes — I guess. Is something wrong?" Fear began to gnaw through confusion. Cassie's gaze darted from Jenner to Finn and back again. "Is something wrong with Deanna?"

Rather than answer, Finn grabbed the phone and punched in his home number. Two rings later, he heard the answering machine click on. With his teeth set, he waited through the message. "Deanna? Pick up if you're there. Pick up the phone, damn it."

"She'd have to be home by now. She left more than an hour ago. Finn, what's going on?"

"What did Jeff tell her?"

"That you'd called, just as I said." "Why didn't you answer the phone?"

"I—" Frightened, and not knowing why, she put a hand on the desk to keep her balance. "I didn't hear the phone. I didn't hear it."

"Where's Jeff?"

"I don't know. He—"

But Finn was already racing down the hall. He burst into one room, found Simon in consultation with Margaret. "Hey, Finn. Don't bother to knock."

"Where's Jeff?"

"He wasn't feeling well. He went home." Simon was rising from the desk as he spoke. "What's the problem?"

"Finn." Though her hands were stiff with cold, Cassie tugged on Finn's sleeve. "I called for Tim myself. I talked to him. He met her downstairs."

"Get him on the line. Now."

"Mr. Riley." Jenner spoke calmly as Cassie rushed off to obey. "I've got a black-and-white on its way to your house right now. Odds are Miss Reynolds wasn't answering the phone. That's all."

"What the hell's going on?" Simon demanded. "What's happened now?"

"Tim doesn't answer his page." Cassie stood in the hallway, a hand at her throat. "I got his machine on his home phone." "Give me the address," Jenner said briskly.

Chapter Twenty-nine

"Mr. Riley, I know you're upset, but you're going to have to let me handle this."

Jenner stood on the sidewalk in front of Jeff's suburban home, aware he was only temporarily blocking Finn from storming the door.

"She's in there. I know it."

"Not to belittle your instincts, but we can't know that. We only know that Jeff Hyatt delivered a message. We're going to check everything out," Jenner reminded him. "The same way we checked out the driver, Tim O'Malley."

"Who wasn't home," Finn ground out, staring at the windows behind Jenner. "And the company car wasn't in the lot. And no one's seen O'Malley since sometime in the afternoon." His gaze, icy still, cut like a blade back to Jenner. "So where the hell is he? Where the hell is Deanna?"

"That's what we're going to try to find out. I'm not going to waste my time telling you to get back in your car and go home, but I am telling you to let me handle this with Hyatt."

"So handle it."

His voice might have been cold, his eyes frosty, but Jenner recognized a powder keg ready to explode. The melodious sound of church bells rang out when Jenner pressed the doorbell. Beneath his feet was a mat with the word WELCOME woven in black. In the center of the door was a glossy Christmas wreath topped by a bright red bow. Colored lights had been neatly strung around the frame. Jeff Hyatt appeared ready for the holidays.

He'd known they would come, and he was ready. Clad comfortably in a tattered sweater and baggy sweats, Jeff descended the stairs. He'd watched them arrive from his bedroom window. He smiled to himself as he paused before the door. This, he knew, was the next step toward freeing Deanna. Toward binding her.

He pulled open the door. "Hey, Finn." Confusion clouded his eyes as he looked at his visitors. "What's up?"

"Where is she?" Finn spaced each word precisely. Yes, there was a powder keg inside him, and only the knowledge that it could explode over Deanna kept it tapped. "I want to know where she is."