She jerked away from him and ran toward the river. The support beam tumbled to the ground, narrowly missing her as she fled. Jeff took a step after her. Only then did he notice that all the villagers were racing away from him. They pointed and screamed, acting as if he were a threat worse than the fire.

An aching coldness filled him. Unable to stop himself, he walked toward the river, toward the small pool fed by the flowing water. Fire raged all around him, but he remained untouched by the destruction. People ran past him, screaming, darting out of his way. A mother raced by, a toddler in her arms. The small child cried when he saw Jeff, then ducked his head into the curve of his mother's neck.

They ran and ran until he was alone. Alone and standing by the pool. And even though he didn't want to look, he couldn't help himself. He knelt by the still water and waited for the smoke to clear enough for him to see his reflection.

Then he knew why they ran, why they screamed in terror. He wasn't a man. Instead of his face, he saw the cold metal features of a mechanical creature. A robot. A metal being not even remotely alive. Fire danced over him, but he couldn't feel it. Nor did it hurt him. He couldn't be burned or damaged in any way. He could only terrify…

Jeff woke in a cold sweat, the way he did every night after the dream. There was no moment of confusion. From the second consciousness returned, he knew exactly where he was and what had happened. He also knew he wouldn't sleep for several hours.

He rose and, in deference to his company, pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt. Then he left his bedroom, prepared to wander through the house like a ghost. Silent, alone, living in the shadows. He tried not to think about the dream, but he was, as usual, unsuccessful. He knew what it meant-that he didn't see himself as human. That he considered himself little more than a machine of destruction. But knowing the truth of the message wasn't enough to make it stop.

As he moved down the hall, he felt a change in the night air. Not a disturbance, just something… different. He could sense the presence of his guests.

Unable to stop himself, he headed in the direction of their rooms. Maggie's door was partially closed. He stood in the hallway and looked in on her.

She slept in the center of the double bed, a small figure guarded by her menagerie of stuffed animals. She was curled up, the blankets tucked around her, sleeping soundly, breathing evenly. A dark curl brushed against her cheek.

He remembered her trust, the sound of her laughter, her delight at the speakerphone in his car. She was a magical child, he thought gruffly, as he noticed one of her fluffy cats had tumbled to the ground. Silently he stepped into her room and put the toy back on the bed. Then, because he couldn't stop himself, he moved through the connecting bathroom and into Ashley's room.

Her sleep was more troubled than her daughter's. She moved under the covers. Her face was slightly flushed, but when he touched her forehead, he didn't feel any heat.

Who was this woman with no family and such dire circumstances? From what he could observe, she was bright and capable. What had happened to bring her to the place where she needed to depend upon his good graces?

Knowing he wasn't going to get any answers, he left her room and walked downstairs. In the living room he walked to the windows and stared out into the night. For the first time since he'd moved into the house, he wasn't alone. How strange. He was always alone. No one came here. Certainly no one had spent the night. When there were women, he visited them. He had an animal's need to protect its territory. Yet he had been the one to invite Ashley and her daughter here in the first place. What did that mean?

He asked the question and received no answer. So he moved into his study where he turned on his computer. Ashley Churchill intrigued him. So he would find out what he needed with his special programs and secret information. When all was revealed to him she would cease to be anything but a woman and then he could easily let her go.

Chapter 4

The normally silent morning was filled with changes. Jeff stood in his kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee made in a coffeemaker he hadn't known he owned until he went looking for it a half hour before. Generally he simply got up, showered, dressed and left for the office. He was usually the first one in the building and made coffee when he arrived. He felt strange still being at home when it was almost seven-thirty.

From upstairs came the sound of movement and laughter. Brenda had shown up promptly at seven and was getting Maggie ready for preschool. Jeff glanced at his watch and realized he should check on Ashley before they left. He needed to make sure she would be all right on her own during the day.

He set his coffee mug on the counter then headed for the stairs. Sleep had taken longer than usual to reclaim him the previous night. He'd been unable to forget he had guests in his house. He couldn't decide if their presence was good, bad or simply different.

He paused outside of Ashley's door and knocked once. A muffled voice invited him to enter. He stepped inside and found Ashley sitting on the edge of her bed. She looked sleepy and flushed. Her hair was mussed and weariness tugged at her mouth, but she held clothes in her arms as if she planned on getting dressed and starting her day.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Great. Much better. Thanks."

She was such a lousy liar, he nearly smiled. "Sell it somewhere else. You look dead on your feet and you're not even standing."

She brushed her hair off her face. "I have to get up. Maggie has school and so do I. She needs to get dressed and have breakfast. I have my own classes to attend. Plus, you've already been so kind. I don't want to impose any longer."

Determination stiffened her small frame. She raised her chin slightly, in a gesture of defiance that reminded him of a kitten spitting at a wolf. It looked great and accomplished nothing, except possibly amusing the wolf.

Instead of answering Ashley directly, he called for Brenda to join him.

Brenda bustled into the room. His assistant, a fifty-something blonde of medium height, was dressed in tailored slacks and a silk blouse. She looked efficient and ran his office with the precision and attention to detail of a neurosurgeon at work.

She walked to Ashley and held out her hand. "Hi. I'm Brenda Maitlin. You must be Ashley. Your daughter is such a sweetheart. And you look like death, honey."

Ashley had responded to Brenda's greeting by shaking hands with the woman. As Jeff watched, his assistant took the pile of clothes from Ashley and set them on the dresser. She maneuvered the other woman back under the covers and pulled up the blankets.

"Don't think about anything," Brenda instructed her. "Just sleep and get better."

"But I have to get my daughter dressed and take her to school. Then-"

Brenda cut her off with a quick shake of her head. "You don't have to do a darned thing. Maggie has been fed and dressed. I'm dropping her off at her preschool on my way to the office. Maggie's sitter, one of her teachers from school, is going to look after her after school at her place." She paused as if going through a mental list before continuing. "Oh, and a note taker will go to class for you today, so you don't have to worry about that, either." She turned to Jeff and beamed. "I think that's everything."

Ashley looked stunned. Jeff winked at her. "I know Brenda can be a little overwhelming, but that's why I hired her. Get the best people possible to do the job."

Brenda looked at him. "Then I have just two words to say to you. Field work."

It was an old argument. "I have just one word in response. No. I'd miss you in the office and your husband would kill me."

She glared at him before stomping out of the room. Jeff returned his attention to Ashley. "She's convinced she would make a great spy. I suspect she's right, but she's late in starting her training and I doubt her family would approve."

Ashley looked confused, as if she was having a difficult time following the conversation. Before she could respond, Maggie burst into the room. The little girl was dressed in purple jeans with a matching purple-and-white sweater. Tiny clips held her hair off of her face. She grinned at Jeff before racing to her mother.

"Mommy, Mommy, Brenda came and cooked me breakfast. We had waffles and I ate a whole one. Then we got me dressed and now I'm going to school in her car. She's got a dog named Muffin and maybe when you feel better we can go visit them."

"A whole waffle. I'm impressed." Ashley raised up on one elbow to study her daughter. "Are you all right?" she asked. "Did you sleep well?"

Maggie laughed. "Mommy, I'm fine." She gave her a quick hug, then dashed out of the room.

Ashley lowered herself back onto the bed. "Thanks for taking care of her. And of me. You're being very nice."

"No one has ever accused me of that before."

"Probably because you didn't give them reason." Her eyes fluttered closed.

Her skin looked soft and smooth. He had an instant vision of touching her cheek, then her mouth. The image was so real, his fingertips burned. Suddenly uncomfortable, he took a step back and tried to figure out what to say.

"I'll be at the office all day," he told her. "Will you be all right by yourself?"

"Sure. I just need to rest a little more."

"The kitchen is well stocked. Take whatever you'd like." He set a business card on the nightstand. "Here's my number, in case you need it."

She nodded slowly, her eyes drifting closed. He knew the exact moment she found sleep. For a second he thought about giving in and touching her cheek… just to see if it was as soft as it looked. But he didn't. Men like him didn't have physical contact with women like her. Men like him remembered they weren't the same as everyone else. And if he tried to forget, the dream was a constant reminder.


* * *

Ashley rolled over and glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand: 7:01… a.m. She blinked. As in the morning? She sat up with a hastiness that made her head spin. Morning? That wasn't possible. She last remembered it being seven-thirty in the morning. Had she really slept around the clock?

She threw back the covers and slid to her feet. Aside from a little light-headedness that was probably due to not eating in thirty-six hours, she felt a whole lot better than she had before. But all thoughts of health were pushed aside by the panicky realization she hadn't seen her daughter since the previous morning.

She flew through the shared bathroom and into the adjoining room. It was empty. Empty! Panic tightened her throat. Dear God, what had happened to her daughter? Her eyes began to burn as tears formed. "Maggie," she whispered. "Maggie?"

Just was she was about to scream, she heard a faint sound. She spun in that direction and realized it came from downstairs. There was a low rumble of a male voice followed by childish laughter.

Maggie!

Relief flooded her. Ashley hurried into the hall and made her way to the stairs. Ignoring the shaking in her legs and the dizziness that lingered, she ran down the stairs and raced into the kitchen. With one sweeping glance, she saw her daughter sitting at the table and eating a triangle of toast and jam.

"Maggie!"

Her little girl looked up and smiled with delight. "Mommy, you're up! I wanted to see you last night but Uncle Jeff said you needed to sleep so I was very quiet when I came to say good-night."

As she spoke, Maggie slid off her chair and hurried to her mother. Ashley took in the mismatched shirt and jeans, the smudge of jam on the girl's cheek and the crooked clips in her hair. Her heart filled with love as she gathered her close and held her tightly.

"I love you, baby girl," she murmured, inhaling the familiar scent of her child.

"I love you, too, Mommy," her daughter whispered in response.

Still holding her child, Ashley looked past her to the man sitting at the table. His suit slacks were immaculate, as was his white shirt. His gray eyes seemed to see down to her receding panic. Which was crazy. He couldn't have known that she'd freaked when she'd awakened and Maggie hadn't been in her room. Could he?

"Brenda was delayed by a family crisis," he said. "So we had to get ready without her." He nodded at Maggie. "She picked out her clothes and got herself dressed without any assistance. I did her hair." He smiled self-deprecatingly. "But you probably figured that out."