“I’ll tell the hospital staff not to let you in his room.”

“No, you won’t. I’m probably a lot better than your sketch artist. You need the best for Eve.” She added, “We need the best.”

Silence. “God help me, I’m going to let you do it.”

“Let? You have no choice. Now let me get off the phone and call Caleb. I’ll need some help getting out of here.” She hung up.

She sat up and swung her legs to the side of the bed.

Dizzy …

Ignore it.

Her shoulder was throbbing painfully.

Ignore it.

Call Caleb.

She dialed the number.

“Jane?”

“Come and get me. I need to be in Georgia in the next few hours.”

Silence. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Am I going to have to bust you out of there?”

“Probably.”

“Interesting.” He hung up.

Clothes. She had to get to the closet across the room.

She waited a moment, bracing herself. Then she slipped off the bed and grabbed the bed rail.

Weakness. Her knees felt like Jell-O.

But they were getting stronger the longer she stood there.

A moment later, she took a step, then another.

And then another.

Just stay within reach of that bed rail in case she folded.

She opened the closet door. Her duffel was on the floor. Devon or Caleb must have brought it. A few clothes items were on hangers. No time to be picky. Just grab something, anything.

White button-down blouse.

Dark twill pants.

Underwear.

She might skip the latter for the time being. The prospect of getting dressed was looking increasingly formidable. She might need help, and she didn’t want to ask anything that intimate of Caleb. She was never sure how he would react.

Sit down. Rest. Then start to dress after she recovered a little.

She threw the clothes on the bed and carefully sat down in the chair beside it.

Just a few minutes …

She leaned back and closed her eyes.

“Jane.”

A deep voice, soft and yet strong.

She stiffened in shock.

Caleb?

Not Caleb.

She didn’t even have to open her eyes.

She knew that voice so well. She had heard it in the darkest nights, thick with passion. She had listened to him laugh a thousand times. And how many times had she tensed when she had heard the anger sting like a whip?

“Open your eyes, Jane. I’m not going away just because you don’t want me here. Not this time.”

She slowly opened her eyes.

He was standing in the doorway smiling at her. It had been a few years, but he looked the same as the first time she’d seen him, when she was only seventeen. He was dressed in jeans and a blue-and-white-striped shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Short, curly, dark hair framed that incredibly good-looking face. Eve had always said he looked like a movie star, and she’d been afraid Jane would be swept away by that charm and charisma. She had been swept away, but not by his appearance. She had always had the strange feeling that somehow they were meant to be together.

And, Lord help her, she had that feeling right now.

In spite of everything that had happened between them, she could only remember the incredible passion and that sense that they belonged to each other.

Mark Trevor, her first love, perhaps her only love.

She cleared her throat, but it still felt tight. “What are you doing here?”

“Where else would I be?” He crossed the room and squatted beside her chair. “You’re hurt. You’re in trouble. You should have expected me.”

“No, how did you get here? How did you know I was here?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t keep an eye on you? Didn’t I tell you I’d always be there for you? You can’t get rid of me.”

That wonderful smile that always wrapped her in intimacy. She couldn’t look away from him.

Of course she could. She wasn’t that besotted teenager she’d been when she’d first known him, nor the college kid who had taken him as her lover. She glanced away. “I didn’t expect you. It’s over. We don’t want the same things. We parted ways, Trevor.”

“You parted ways. I’ve been on the sidelines, biding my time.” He leaned forward, kissed the tip of her nose, and said softly, “It had to end. All the time-outs are over for both of us, Jane.”

Rio Grande Forest, Colorado

SHE WAS COLD.

Eve reached out to draw a blanket over her.

There was no blanket.

Or maybe it had fallen off the bed to the floor.

She opened her eyes.

Not the cottage. Not a bed. She was lying on a couch in a room she’d never seen before.

A large room. Rough pine walls. High ceilings. Exposed pipes.

A loft? Or factory?

Why would she be—

Then she remembered. She froze, her muscles contracting, ready to launch herself from the couch, her gaze darting wildly about the room.

Until it landed on the object on the chair only a few feet from the couch.

A skull, blackened, burned, its gaping orbital cavities staring at her.

Ugly. Threat. Horror.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you, Eve.” It was the man, Doane, from the truck, coming toward her. “Considering your profession, I’m surprised it would bother you. I just wanted you to become familiar with him as soon as possible.” He stopped beside the chair, and his big hand reached out and gently caressed the skull. “This is Kevin. This is my son, Eve. We’re both glad to have you with us at last.”

She stared at him in shock. Was he mad? There was a distinct possibility. Think calmly about how to handle this situation and still survive.

She didn’t want to think calmly. She wanted to launch herself at him and attack. He had not only kidnapped her, he had hurt both Jane and Ben, and she still wasn’t sure if they had survived.

But she wouldn’t find out by getting physical. She had to find out what this was all about; and then the path would be clear how she was to escape.

She forced herself to look at the skull. She was as surprised as he that she’d reacted with such revulsion when she’d seen the skull. “I wasn’t bothered,” she said coldly. “I wasn’t expecting it. I suppose on some subliminal level that I thought someone was trying to frighten me.” Yet she was still feeling that same horror now, she realized. She glanced away from the skull back to Doane’s face. “That is what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

“I have no desire to frighten you. That would be counterproductive.” He smiled gently. “I need you. We need you. I don’t wish you harm.”

“Bullshit,” she said with precision. “You sent that man, Blick, after Jane. You struck Ben down, and I still don’t know if he died from that blow. You drugged me and brought me to this place. What the hell do you call doing harm?”

He grimaced. “It doesn’t sound very good, does it? It was all necessary, but I was hoping that no permanent damage would be caused by my plan.”

“Is that why Jane was shot?” She lifted her shaking hand to cover her eyes. “You did enormous harm.”

“You heard me tell Blick that he shouldn’t have done it.”

“Yes, you slapped his hands, but he’d already hurt her.” Her hand dropped to her side. “Is she alive or dead?”

“Alive.”

Relief followed by suspicion. “How do you know?”

“I called Blick back and had him make calls. I knew that would be one of the first things you’d ask me when you regained consciousness. Jane MacGuire is at a hospital in San Juan, Puerto Rico. She has only a minor wound and should be released within a week.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you?”

“It would be easier for you if you did.” He shook his head. “But I realize I may have to give you more solid assurances. You’ll find it difficult to trust anything I say.”

“You think?” she said scornfully. “Prove it to me. Let me call Joe Quinn and hear it from him.”

“Ah, Joe Quinn. Yes, you’d believe him.”