" Not personally. "

"The truck driver said he wants to make me a rich woman: '

"I wouldn't count on it."

She wantei answers. Jason's clipped replies gave away very little. And the molasses feeling in her head made it hard to summon up the energy to frame more questions. But the doubts she'd tried to shove from her mind were gnawing at her again.

With a grimace, Noel struggled for mental coherence. Jason was a puzzle she didn't know how to solve. But what about the rest? First there was Flora-who wasn't at the address or phone number she'd given Noel. Was she part of a conspiracy? Or had the people working for Mr. Montgomery picked up Henry's ex-wife, too?

A conspiracy. On the face of it, the idea was ridiculous Who would mount a conspiracy against a Baltimore paralegal on vacation in Britain? But then why did the customs service think she was a smuggler?

From under lowered lashes she studied Jason. She hadn't seen him for years. He looked a world removed from the lanky teenage rebel who had taken her out a few times and then dropped her. Yet back in the meadow she'd had no trouble recoghizing hq as soon as she'd calmed down enough to realize who was grasping her shoulders. In fact, she'd felt a startling rush of warm , tender emotions for a man who had once made it very clear that the two of them had nothing to give each other.

"When was the last time I saw you?" she asked suddenly "After your uncle died."

Before she could assimilate that information, he was asking a question of his own. "What do you remember about the shooting in the jewelry shop?"

"Nothing. I was in the back room putting rings away. The next thing I knew I was waking up in the hospital. Some stranger took me there." As she saidthe words, a shiver rippled over her skin. "You. It was you: '"Yes. How have you been since then?"

"Okay. If you discount the amnesia and the dizzy spells."His head snapped toward her and then back to the road. "Dizzy spells? Youmean you're still having symptoms ? "

"My physician tells me they'll go away." She looked at his stony profile. It helped focus her attention. "We were talking about you. How did you happen to come into the shop?"

"I was in the vicinity." "

" Are you in Baltimore often? "

"Not often."

The image that had come to her when she'd been talking to Abby that afternoon

in the garden fluttereq back. "What are you, some kind of guardian angel whoswoops down to help every time I'm in trouble?"He snorted. "Hardly."

"Thenwhat-?"

"Noel, I'm sorry. But the more you know about what's going on, the more dangerous it is."

"That's crazy."

"I said you're just going to have to trust me."

She didn't. Couldn't. Not when he'd raised more doubts than he'd answered.

Just then, they turned off the road onto a private lane hemmed in by tall hedges. She looked up at the wall of greenery, feqling as if all hope of escape had suddenly been cut off. But that was ridiculous He wasn't taking her to an armed fortress, was he?

The car swung around a corner. Noel felt a surge of pelief when they pulled into a gravel parking area in front of a stone cottage that looked as if it could have illustrated the cover of a book on British country life. The thatched roof was steeply sloped. The windows had small, diamond-shaped panes, and a vine with tiny purple flowers twined up the wall and across the top of the door.

"Who lives here?" Noel asked as Jason opened the driver's door.

"Us. For the moment."

He retrieved her luggage from the back, along with a small duffel bag.

Bemused, she stepped out of the car. When Jason unlocked the cottage door, she hesitated and looked down at her muddy feet. "My shoes."

" Leave them by the door. "

As she scuffed them off, he brushed the twigs and grass from the back of her shirt. When she turned, he reached for a pieq of straw near her collarbone, and his hand touched her neck. His fingers were warm on her flesh. Neither of them moved.

"I feql as if you've brouglqt me here before," she whispered.

"No. We've never been here." Jason turned away quickly and pushed the door open. "We'd better go in."

Noel nodded.

He stepped back and she followed him into a small sitting room. It fulfilled the promise of the exterior. The upholstered furniture was overstuffed and bright with flowered pillows. The tables, chairs and cabinet pieces were highly polished pine. A simple rag rug decorated the wide boards of the floor. Nothing was dusty or dirty. In fact, it looked as if a meticulous housewife had gone down to the village to fetch a few groceries for her expected visitors.

"Did someone get this place ready for us?"

"My boss keeps several houses like this araund the country. They're always ready for occupancy."

"That sounds expensive."

"He can afford it."

She might have asked another question, but as IV,oel watched Jason carry the cases toward the stairs, the image of coming here before skittered into her head again. Except this time she knew it wasn't a memory. This time she realized her mind was flirting with the idea of a man and a woman alone in a charming honeymoon cottage. A man and a woman who had just kissed each other as ifAs if what?

The silent question was immediately followed by a feeling of longing so intense that she sucked in an audible breath. She knew he heard, because he turned and looked at her. Their eyes locked, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing as she.

Then he jerked away and began to rapidly ascend the stairs. When she joined him on the second floor, she found that there were two bedrooms. Jason put her luggage in the larger room, which was dominated by a double bed with a high, carved hqdboard. Then he set his own duffel bag across the narrow hall in a smaller chamber with a single bed. qen he turned, he almost bumped into Noel, who was standing awkwardly in the hall. She stepped back. So did he.

"I-uh-expect you want to get cleaned up," Jason qd, 8esturing toward the bathroom at the end of the hall. "And there should be a first-aid kit in the medicine cabinet, if you have any scrapes that need attention."

"'q'qanks: She heard the uncertainty in her own voice.

"I'll be downstairs if you want anything.

He turned and left her standing in the hall. And all at once it hit her how far she'd dropped her guard. My God, what was the matter with her? Being alone with Jason in q place had lulled her into a feeling of safety. And that was dangerous, she thought as she stepped into her room and closed the door.

JAsorr sroov at the foot of the stairs, listening to the sounds behind Noel's closed door. He could picture her opening her luggage and getting out clean clothing. He wanted to go back up, take her back in his arms and tell her something that would wipe away the look of mistrust that had surfaced in her eyes. But what the hell was he going to say?

His shoulders sagged as he walked into the sitting room. He was going to have to report in to Sir Douglas. And whatever he said to the Sovereign would have to be factually accurate, because there were ways to check his story. On the other hand, there were several personal details he was certainly going toqleave out. The most important thing he had to do was convince Frye that Noel was no more than a pawn in this new game-a pawn who had to be protected while she was useful.

After bringing the guns in from the car and stowing them in his room, he placed a call to an unlisted number in Glasgow and waibed while the computer linked up with the secure line to Castle Lockwood.

"Problems?" his employer asked the moment Jason had identified himself.

"How can you tell?" "it's the only reason you'd be ringing up."

"Nothing I can't handle."

A note of tension overlaid the older man's voice. "The lass arrived on schedule?"

" Yes. Then she was scooped up by the authorities at customs. ""Why?" The sharp question was like the quick thrust of a rapier., . Hopscotch gl"I don't know yet.""But you got her away from them.""Not me. One of Montgomery's operatives. "Jason listened through several seconds of shocked curses. "I didn't think that old weasel had the nerve to go on the offensive.""It means he's desperate. Which makes him more dangerous than ever. I thinkhe wanted the girl frightened enough to cooperate with him " " " Aye. " "

Tbere was a long silence on the other end of the line "Perhaps you shouldn't bring her directl here., "Then you want to put plan B into effect?" Jason asked, gripping the phone

cord in his fingers while he waited for the answer.

"Yes."

Jason let out the breath he'd been holding.

"I don't like surprises. Keeping the lass under control is critical ."

"I can take care of that."

"I'll do what I can to help from this end," Frye added.

"What?"

"I'd like to see how you handle things as they develop Ring me this evening

and let me know if there's anything different in the way the lass is

reacting."

Before Jason could ask what that was supposed to mean, the line went dead.

With a silent curse of his own Jason hung up. ,

NoEL Fourrq orrE of the dresses she'd packed and took it into the bathroom. She washed quickIy, inspecting her body for bruises and scrapes which she doused with strong-smelling disinfectant.

The medicine's pungent smell and sting helped dispel the lingering fog that filled her head. Noel had slipped on her dress and was towel drying her hair when she stopped suddenly. Had she heard voices downstairs? Stepping out into the hall, she listened intently Jason was talking to someone in a tone too soft for her to make out what he was saying. The one-sided conversation continued, and she guessed he was using the phone.

Quietly she crept toward the stairs and leaned over the railing, but she still couldn't catch more than a blur of low words. Then a phrase leaped out at her. "Then you want to put plan B into effect?"

Noel went very still. Plan B. She didn't know what that meant, but it sounded as if Jason was getting his orders from someone-and he wasn't telling her who. In the car, she'd stupidly asked if he was a guardian angel. What a naive fool she'd been. Jason q7acharias was a dangerous man who had cleverly trapped her upstairs in an isolated cottage. And she'd better find a way to tip the odds a bit in her favor.

On tiptoe she crossed the hall and stepped into the smaller bedroom. Jason must have put his luggage away-probably in the cupboard. When she threw open the doors, the first things she saw were the two guns he'd taken from the truck driver.

She winoed and started to back away. Then she told herself it was counterproductive to be intimidated by the weapons. Dropping to her knees, she opened the zipper of the duffel bag he'd shoved into the bottom of the cabinet Carefully she began to poke through the ccmtents, trying not to change the position of anything. The luggage held the expected articles. Neatly folded undeqvear. Jeans. Sweaters. Shirts. Socks. A shaving kit.

It was strangely unsettling to be touching such personal items. Ignoring the feeling, she continued her search. Under some sweat clothes was a flat leather folder. With a little stab of guilt, Noel worked it to the surface and spread it open.

Inside were two dark blue passport booklets with the familial U. S. eagle crest on the outside. The first one was issued in the name of Jason Zacharias. The picture was recent. His birthplace was listed as Baltimore. Hiscurrent address was in Chicago. And he was supposed to be a salesman.

Noel snorted. That fit Mr. 7acharias about as well as a tuxedo would fit an alligator.

Why did he need two passports? Was he traveling under an alias when it suited him?

Noel opened the second booklet. As she looked down at the photograph, she felt the blood drain out of her head. To her astonishment she found she was gazing at her own face. It wasn't quite as recent as Jason's picture In fact, it had been taken two years ago when she'd first gotten a college ID.

As she scanned the rest of the information, she felt her mouth go dry. Her birthdate and place of birth were correct But according to this supposedly official U. S. document , she also lived in Chicago. And her name-both in print and as a signature-was Noel 7acharias.

Chapter Five.

Noel dropped the passport as if it might explode in her hand.

Noel Zacharias.

That meant. . it said. . she was Mrs. Jason Zacharias Like a cork popping to the surface of a troubled sea, a tantalizing picture sprang into her mind. A bedroom. Dim lights. Soft music. Herself and Jason. Naked. In a double bed. Fevered bodies locked in a tight, urgent embrace Mouths seeking. Hands moving, caressing, giving pleasure. Words murmured in the darkness.

"Finally you're mine."

"I always have been."

Noel wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Her eyelids drifted closed as the images and the words sent a shiver across skin still warm from the shower. In that one unguarded moment, she ached with every fiber of her being to hold on to the scene. Long ago she'd been in Jason Zacharias's arms. Later she'd spun fantasies about him when she hadn't been capable of coping with a real man in her life. But she had no claims on him. Now it was dangerous even to play with the possibility.

She opened her eyes again, picking up the incriminating document, recognizing it as some kind of cruel hoax.

Noel Zacharias wasn't her name. She was Noel Emery Deliberately, almost ruthlessly, she called up the details of her life. She lived in Baltimore, not Chicago. She was a paralegal working in the law office of Laura Roswell at 43 Light Street She drove a red, secondhand Toyota. She rented an apartment in the old house her friend Jo O'Malley owned in Roland Park. She liked to make lunchtime visits to Lexington Market with its fresh produce and ethnic food stalls. She was a frequent patron of the Roland Park Library. And she knew a lot about antique jewelry.