Because of Mario. And Adria.

Mario claimed he couldn’t meet her, that some kind of business had come up, but Trisha wasn’t fool enough to believe him. Though he’d apologized over and over again, she hadn’t heard the slightest hint of any true regret in his voice. She knew the reason-he had a new woman, someone more exciting, someone who presented him more of a challenge. She didn’t have to be a brain surgeon to figure out that he planned the newest notch on his bedpost would be Adria Nash.

Ever since he’d been with Adria the other night, Mario had avoided Trisha, begging off with one flimsy excuse after another. But Trisha knew the score. Whenever he was involved with a new woman he became distracted and unapproachable but eventually-sometimes only days, other times excruciating months-he came back, not the least bit contrite, resuming their affair with a renewed passion and vigor, claiming to love her.

The sex was always worth the wait.

The emotional strain was not.

So now he was interested in Adria and that bothered her-more than any of the others.

“Bitch!” Trisha hissed, thinking of the pistol locked in her glove compartment. She didn’t know whom to shoot first. Mario or Adria. Maybe the two of them together. She’d bought the gun for protection and never had to use it, but tonight, her fantasies were running wild and if she caught Mario-her Mario-with that two-bit hustler from Montana, she was sure she would blow them both away.

Adria, who looked so much like Kat! Trisha’s insides twisted when she remembered her stepmother, the bitch who had convinced her to get an abortion to save Mario from Witt’s wrath and the threat of prosecution for statutory rape.

Well, Kat ended up getting hers, hadn’t she? What goes around, comes around.

And that bastard no-good Mario. How many times would she let him break her heart?

Trisha’s fingers were sweaty as she shifted down for another curve. The thought of murder was appealing, very appealing. Disgusted with herself, she pushed the cigarette lighter in and considered making a buy. A little coke would lift the old spirits and maybe give her enough guts to go through with her murderous plans. She shook out a Salem Light and placed it between her lips.

The cellular phone jangled and she smiled to herself. Mario had changed his mind. Steering with one hand, she picked up the phone. “Yes?” she said breathlessly and was disappointed when Nelson’s voice crackled in the receiver.

“I thought you should know,” he said, his voice heavy with despair. “It looks like Adria might be London.”

“Shit, no-”

The cigarette lighter clicked and Trisha wedged the phone between her shoulder and head while she stuck the burner to the end of her cigarette and pulled in a deep breath. Her eyes never left the road. Smoke puffed from the corner of her mouth.

“I don’t believe it, either, but Sweeny seems to think he’s got proof positive.”

“That little prick wouldn’t know his own dick if it weren’t attached to his balls.” She shoved the lighter back into the dash and took in another lungful.

“Do you always have to be so crude?”

“Has the press found out?”

“Not yet. But they will. Zach’s running wild-”

“Zach?” she said, frowning as she blew out a stream of smoke that temporarily fogged the windshield.

“Yeah, he’s back in town.”

“With the bitch?”

“I think so.” Trisha’s blood ran cold as her suspicions proved true. No wonder Mario was busy tonight. “Jason’s trying to keep the story quiet. He doesn’t want anyone outside the immediate family to know-least of all, Adria-but Zach rushed out of here like a madman and I think he’s going to tell her.”

“Shit.” Trisha’s world began crumbling at a faster rate. First Mario, now everything that went with being a Danvers-her whole life, her future-falling into little pieces. Because of Adria.

“My feelings exactly.”

“Where is she?”

“Get this,” Nelson said, his voice tinged with irony, “Zachary’s got her hidden in the damned hotel. Jason already checked, though that little creep of a manager, Rich, wouldn’t tell him which room. Jason warned the guy that he’d fire him, but he still held his tongue.”

“Zach must’ve threatened him with bodily harm.” She braked for a red light.

“Probably. Sounds like our brother,” Nelson said morosely.

“This just gets better and better,” Trisha said, her mind already spinning ahead.

“Or worse and worse,” Nelson complained.

“Why does Zach care if Adria knows?”

“You tell me, Trisha. You’re always so good at reading everyone’s emotions.”

It all suddenly clicked into place. Her suspicions crystallized and she smiled wickedly to herself as she jammed the Alpha into first just as the light changed. The tires chirped as she stepped on the accelerator. “I bet our stoic, love-’em-and-leave-’em brother has fallen in love with her,” Trisha said, disgusted at the thought of it. “I can’t stand it. She’s his…our…oh, hell, this is fucking unbelievable.” She cruised through another yellow light. “You know, this could work to our advantage.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You will,” Trisha promised as she hung up the phone and turned toward the river. She flipped on the radio and began to sing along to an old Tina Turner song that blasted over the speakers. Finally she was certain she could deal with Adria Nash.


After Zach left, Adria went right to work. She called the police and talked to Detective Stinson, though she learned nothing new. When she phoned a rental car agency and reserved a car, before dialing Zach’s mechanic and leaving a message that she wanted her vehicle back as soon as possible. Her next move would be to find a way to hire a good lawyer, something she’d been avoiding.

She’d been approached several times since the press release and she had over a dozen business cards of smooth-talking men in expensive wool suits who had offered to look over the facts of her case. A few had hinted that they would work for her on contingency, with no money up front, but they all had seemed so slick…too smart for their own good, and she hadn’t been ready to hire anyone yet.

Now, things had changed.

And for the worse.

She flopped back on the bed and draped her forearm over her eyes.

Forget him!

If only she could, but everywhere she went, she thought of Zach, remembered the craggy angles of his face, felt again the tingling sensations of his lips touching hers, turned liquid inside with the want of him.

Fool! Do you think he’s moping over you? You were probably just a quick distraction to him…and yet…

The phone rang and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Zach. It had to be Zach. No one else knew she was here. She picked up the receiver and forced her voice to remain calm. “Hello?”

“Adria,” a female voice cooed. “So you are here.”

Her heart somersaulted as she recognized Trisha’s voice.

“Zach wouldn’t tell anyone where you were, but I took a stab in the dark and though the desk is downright rude about letting me know your room number, they did deign to put me through.” She sounded irritated.

“What do you want?” she asked, wondering if she really could be related to this woman.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Now?”

“You have better plans?” Without waiting for an answer, Trisha said, “I’m in the parking garage now. I could meet you in the bar in five minutes, or…if you’d rather go somewhere else…”

“The bar’s fine,” Adria said. “I’ll see you there.” So much for being safe, she thought, but really didn’t care who knew where she was. She was tired of looking over her shoulder and jumping at shadows. Maybe it was time to flush out the culprit who had jumped her and in so doing, find out exactly what happened nearly twenty years ago. She ran a brush through her hair, slipped a jacket over her jeans and blouse, and locked the door behind her.

She nearly stumbled over the security guard, a beefy, red-haired man with a pockmarked face, posted in the hallway. “Mr. Danvers requested that I stay here,” he said, almost apologetically. “You going out?”

“Just for a little while.”

“Where to?”

“Just downstairs,” she said, disliking the man for intruding into her privacy, though she knew he was only doing his job. She had only to recall her recent attack to remind herself to be on her guard. Trisha, who seemed harmless, might be more dangerous than she appeared. Adria hurried into the elevator, tapped her fingernails nervously on the rail as the car descended, and bolted through the doors as they opened silently.

Zach was waiting for her.

Lounging against a post, propped up by one denim-covered shoulder, arms crossed over his chest, he stood, staring at the elevator, like a cougar waiting to pounce on unsuspecting prey. “Goin’ somewhere?” he drawled and a slow, sexy smile curved across his jaw.

A nest of butterflies erupted in her stomach.

“No, I-” she stammered, then held her tongue. “Have you been down here the whole time, waiting for me to try and escape?”

The smile disappeared. His eyes flashed angrily. “You’re giving yourself too much credit. Way too much.”

“Then don’t get in my way,” she warned, trying to brush past him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the bar.”

“Thirsty?”

“Is there any particular reason you’re being a jerk, or is it just your nature?”

“Ouch.”

“You asked for it. Now, not that it’s any of your business, but I’m meeting your sister.”

“Trisha’s here?” he asked, throwing a dark look toward the glass doors of the bar.

“Waiting. So if you’ll excuse me.”

He didn’t. Instead he strode ahead of her. He threw open the door and scanned the room with eyes set into a hard-as-nails expression. His dark gaze landed squarely on his sister, who was sitting in a corner booth, holding a stemmed glass of clear liquid in one hand and a burning cigarette in the other. With Adria at his heels, he crossed the patterned carpet. “What the hell’s going on here?” he demanded, his lips barely moving.

“Just thought I’d have a drink with my…our sister.” Trisha tapped the ash from her cigarette. “Join us?”

Adria’s breath seemed to stop.

“Oh, God, don’t tell me I ruined the surprise,” Trisha said, pretending dismay, her fingers fluttering over her chest in mock surprise. “Didn’t he tell you?” She threw her brother a look of shocked dismay and clucked her tongue. “Honestly, Zach, she deserves to know, don’t you think?” She switched her gaze back to Adria. “They, meaning my brothers and their detectives, have nearly located Ginny Slade and it looks very much like you’re going to end up the winner in all this. Oh, Zach, don’t pretend to be so stricken. I know you knew all about it.”

“No one’s talked to Ginny yet,” he said.

“Only a matter of time.”

“Yet?” Adria whispered, hardly believing that after all these months, all the effort, she might be proved to be…Her gaze flew to Zachary’s and she felt a wrenching deep in her soul. If she were London, then, unless Zach wasn’t Witt’s son…She knew her face drained of color and her knees felt wobbly for a second, though she’d known all along this could happen. Wasn’t it what she’d wanted?

“This isn’t a bad time to let the cat out of the bag, is it?” Trisha asked as Zachary slid into the booth opposite her, yanked on Adria’s arm, and pulled her onto the soft leather bench beside him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Adria asked, turning bewildered eyes on Zach. Zach, who had protected her. Zach, who had stolen her away. Zach, who had made love to her. She could barely breathe.

“I just found out.”

Trisha’s gaze moved from her brother to Adria. “This makes things complicated, doesn’t it?”

Zach glared at his sister. “It’s always been complicated.”

“I know, but I mean for you two.”

The waiter came by with a refill for Trisha. Zach ordered a beer. Adria, swallowing hard, asked for chardonnay and noticed the curl of Trisha’s lip. “White wine, the drink of choice in-was it-Elk Hollow, Montana?”

“Stop it, Trisha,” Zach warned.

“Oh, little brother, you’ve got it bad, don’t you? And for your half-sister. That’s a real pisser.” She picked up her first drink and finished it off. “A real pisser.”

The waiter dropped off fresh glasses and Adria picked up the stem of her wineglass with trembling fingers. Her nerves were strung tight, but seemed jangled. Too much was happening too fast-she couldn’t absorb everything. “Why did you want to meet me?” she asked.

Trisha’s smile was brittle. “To tell you to stay away from Mario Polidori.” At the lift of Adria’s eyebrows, Trisha explained. “We go back a long time.”