Jeff studied the diagrams spread out on the large conference table. "Kidnapping's the least of it," he replied. "At least then there's the chance he'll be held for ransom. They'd want to keep him alive. If I were him, I'd be more concerned about an outright hit."

Zane grinned. "You want to tell him that?"

"Not especially." Jeff leaned back in his chair and glanced at his partner. "But I will when I meet with him next week."

"Rather you than me. I suspect he's something of a screamer."

"Screamer" was the indelicate term used to identify clients who couldn't handle the reality of their situation. They didn't want to hear about the actual or potential danger, and they frequently resisted making changes in their lifestyle to keep themselves and their family safe. Yet they were the first to start screaming the second something went wrong, most often when it was their own fault.

"I don't doubt it." But screamer or not, Kirkman had to be dealt with.

Zane tossed his pen onto the table and looked at his partner. "So, tell me about the woman in your life."

"There is no woman."

"That's not what the rumors say. And I happen to know that you have a female living in your house with you."

"She works for me. She's my new housekeeper."

Zane raised his dark eyebrows. "And?"

"And nothing. Her name is Ashley. She used to work here in the office and now she works at my house. It's a business arrangement, nothing more." Even if he wanted it to be more, he wasn't going to act on the wanting. Because it would be dangerous for them both. He couldn't be what Ashley needed him to be, while she…

He returned his attention to the diagrams in front of him, even though he wasn't seeing anything remotely resembling the floor plan of the main villa. Instead he saw hazel eyes bright with laughter and inhaled a sweet scent he would remember for the rest of his life.

Ashley could be very important to him, he acknowledged. But he wasn't going to let that happen.

"What about her daughter?" Zane asked. "Kids can be tough to ignore."

Jeff smiled. "What would you know about children?"

"I know enough to avoid them," his partner joked. "And so have you, until recently. So what's going on, Jeff? If you keep this up, people are going to start thinking you're actually human."

It was an old joke-one that Jeff didn't find especially humorous. He also wasn't willing to answer any questions about Maggie. Not when the little girl was rapidly becoming important to him. Something had happened during the field trip to the zoo. Being with the children, taking care of Tommy when he'd skinned his hand, had cracked some part of his protection. Now Maggie slipped inside until he found himself thinking about her throughout the day, worrying about her. Would the teachers at the preschool remember to make sure she wore her jacket outside when she played? Did she finish her lunch? Had anyone treated her unfairly?

He still remembered when he'd actually taken her onto his lap to comfort her. His reaction had been pure instinct-and filled with more feelings than he cared to admit.

Both the Churchill females were making a mess of his life.

He pointed to the papers on the table. "We need the security plans finalized by the end of the week."

"No problem."

Zane leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. Like Jeff, he wore a suit and tie to the office. Unlike Jeff, he tended to relax during the day, rolling up his sleeves and loosening his collar. He tapped the pages in front of them.

"I can do this myself," his partner said quietly. "It's time to let me take charge. You know, leave it to the younger guys."

"Why?" Jeff knew he wasn't getting old or soft. What was Zane's point?

"I can do this," Zane insisted.

"That was never a question."

"Wasn't it? Then why do you take all the dangerous assignments for yourself? You leave me babysitting the wives, while you stake out the trouble spots."

Jeff studied his partner. The man was only three or four years younger, but sometimes the age difference felt like decades. Zane had a lot of the same experiences, but he was a sharpshooter and a tactician. He'd spent most of his military years planning the operations or taking out the enemy from a distant location.

Zane had had his share of kills, but less experience with the horror.

"I don't have family," Jeff said. "The guy who has nothing to lose volunteers for the most dangerous job. It's an old habit. One I've had trouble breaking."

Zane's dark eyes never wavered. "Like I have a family to go home to?"

Jeff shrugged. Zane didn't have anyone in the world, either. "So we're even."

Zane frowned. "I thought-" He hesitated. "Hasn't that changed? I mean with the woman and the kid."

"Nothing's different."

Jeff's voice and words were firm. It was true, he told himself. Absolutely true. Having Ashley and Maggie in his life didn't change anything. He ignored the whispering voice deep inside that reminded him he was lying. Nothing had changed, he insisted to himself. He couldn't afford to let circumstances be different. He had to remember what had happened with Nicole-and the dream. Always the dream.

"I'd like the chance," Zane told him. "You owe me that."

Jeff looked at him. "Free license to kill yourself?"

"Isn't that what this job is about? Putting it all on the line for the client?"

Jeff knew that was true, but what he couldn't explain was why it made sense for him to do it over and over again, but when Zane wanted the same, Jeff couldn't help thinking it was a waste.


* * *

"I was at the bookstore at lunch," Jeff said, standing in the entrance of the kitchen and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Ashley stopped stirring the pot of spaghetti sauce. Her boss actually looked nervous. He wouldn't meet her gaze and there was a distinct hint of color tingeing his cheeks. The mighty hunter embarrassed about something? She moved toward him, both intrigued and charmed.

"I had long suspected you could read," she told him. "But thanks for the confirmation."

His mouth twisted. "That's not the point. I have a trip coming up in a few weeks. I wanted a book for the flight home."

She started to ask about the flight there, then realized he would probably spend that preparing for whatever assignment he might be involved with.

"Okay," she said. "Well, I hope you enjoy your book and thanks for sharing the information with me."

"You're mocking me."

She couldn't help smiling. "Maybe just a little. Why are you telling me this?"

"Because there was a display of kids' books and I bought one for Maggie."

He moved his left arm. As he did so she realized that he'd had his left hand tucked behind his back. He held up a pink-and-white gift bag overflowing with glittering pink-gold tissue paper. Obviously he'd not only bought the book, but he'd had it wrapped, as well.

"Is it okay?" he asked.

She knew he wasn't asking about the presentation, but instead about the gift itself. Which left her with her own questions. Did he want to know if it was okay to give Maggie a book, or okay for him to give her daughter a present at all? Maybe he didn't know which he was asking, either.

Her chest tightened slightly as she remembered what had happened the previous week when Maggie had been upset about camels and Jeff had comforted her. He'd reacted impulsively. She'd seen the shock in his expression when he'd realized what he'd done, but by then it was too late to stop. Maggie was settled on his lap, leaning against him. Trusting and small, she was impossible to resist. Ashley knew-she'd been unable to keep from loving her from the moment she'd first held her.

But she was supposed to love her child. She'd wanted to have a baby and had been excited when her daughter had been born. But what about Jeff? Did he want children? He'd told her he couldn't have them. He'd also said that Maggie wasn't a substitute for his own child, but she was growing less confident of that. Did the little girl fill a hole in his heart Jeff didn't even know was there?

Ashley wasn't sure how she felt about her boss connecting with her child. She liked knowing he had a soft spot, but was she creating a problem for all of them?

He stepped forward and set the book on the table. "You could tell her it was from you if that makes you more comfortable," he offered.

She shook her head. "You give it to her," she said, even as she wondered why Maggie's father couldn't have been half as open to her presence in his life.

Damian had never had any interest in his child. He'd seen her as one more drain on his resources.

Jeff picked up the bag and headed for the family room. Faint sounds of an afternoon cartoon drifted through the house. Ashley followed him, wanting to see what happened yet knowing she was putting herself in danger by doing so.

"Uncle Jeff!" Maggie bounced to her feet when she saw him enter the room. She pushed the mute button on the television and grinned. "Whatcha got?"

"A present."

Big blue eyes widened. "For me?"

"Maybe."

Maggie grinned. "It's for me. What is it?"

"Why don't you find out for yourself?"

He held out the gift bag. The little girl practically vibrated with excitement. She took the offering and reverently placed it on the coffee table. Carefully she pulled out the tissue paper, then reached inside for the book.

Only, it wasn't just a book. An oddly shaped box held a storybook and a stuffed pink kitten. Maggie's mouth worked, but she couldn't make any sound. Obviously Jeff had figured out that anything feline was her favorite.

"Please read to me," she said, thrusting the box at him.

He freed both the book and the cat, handing the latter to her, then settled on the sofa. Maggie plopped down next to him, her body leaning against his, her expression joyful and trusting. She cradled her new stuffed cat in her arms.

Jeff opened the book. "Once there was a pink kitten named Pooky Girl, which was a rather silly name."

Maggie tugged on his suit sleeve. "This is the bestest present ever," she said.

"I'm glad you like it."

Ashley turned away. It wasn't that she didn't want to hear about the adventures of Pooky Girl, it was that she didn't want either Jeff or Maggie to notice the tears in her eyes.

Why did he have to be so darn nice? He was making her like him more than she should. He was making her think of him as warm and caring. That, combined with how hot he looked in jeans or in a suit, not to mention the tango her hormones performed every time he was within spitting distance, was enough to make her crazy. And dangerously vulnerable.

Jeff couldn't be a part of her life. He was too different. He was scary, although even as she said the words, she didn't believe them. Not anymore. But while she might have changed her opinion about him, one thing had stayed exactly the same. He was dangerous to her plans for the future. She wanted love and she had a bad feeling that Jeff's heart had died a long time ago.


* * *

It was well after midnight when Ashley awakened. She couldn't say what had startled her from sleep. The house was silent, and when she got up to check on her daughter, Maggie was sleeping peacefully in her bed and holding her new stuffed cat in her arms. Ashley told herself it had been nothing and that she should just go back to bed, but something compelled her to pick up her robe and head for the stairs.

"Oh, right. Like I'm going to check all the windows and doors," she muttered softly to herself as she walked onto the main floor.

Jeff's house was a fortress. She didn't understand his complex security system, and she knew that everything was safe. Even so she had to see for herself.

She checked the kitchen and Jeff's study, then headed to the front of the house. As she crossed by the living room, she saw a shadow by the window. Her mind froze, but her heart recognized. The nanosecond of fear faded.

Jeff.

He was looking out into the darkness, studying the night, or perhaps staring into a past that she couldn't begin to imagine.

He wore jeans and nothing else. His back was broad, his skin smooth. Muscles rippled and bunched as he shifted slightly. She felt her mouth water, something that had never occurred while she'd been looking at a man. Chocolate, sure. There was nothing like the smell of the confection to get her salivary glands all excited, but she hadn't noticed the same man-generated effect until this moment.

She had the strongest impulse to cross the room and touch him. To stroke his bare skin, to press her mouth to his shoulder and taste him. A shiver rippled through her. It was just hormones, she told herself. She was in the middle of her cycle, so biologically she was predisposed to want sex. Mother Nature at work. But her desire didn't mean anything-not in the real sense of the word. It was interesting information she wasn't about to act on.