Guilt or not, he wanted her again. The sun was dancing along her tousled hair, grazing her exposed skin. Sleep was still outlining her eyes, and if he looked, he could see the swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against the thin sheet. The outline of her leg tempted him to reach out and touch her again, the way he had last night. To caress what had been his for a blink of an eye. What couldn't be his in the day-to-day world they occupied.

Just looking at her made his mouth go dry.

So Chad looked away, pretending to cast his gaze around for his shoes. "Almost seven o'clock. Your housekeeper will be here soon."

She knew what time Angela arrived. Was he getting up because he didn't want to be caught in bed with her? Or was it her reputation he was concerned about? The thought brought a sweetness in its wake. For all his tough exterior, the man was old-fashioned. But then, his manners had hinted at that.

"Angela has her own key," she told him softly.

"My point exactly." Rising, he stepped into his shoes. "You don't want her coming up here and finding you with me."

Her private life had always been that, as private as she could keep it. And though she cared about Angela and regarded her as something more than just a housekeeper, she wouldn't have openly flaunted this before the woman. Still, there was something in Chad's tone that caught her attention. She could feel her spine tensing.

"Why?"

He looked at her face, purposely keeping his eyes from the rest of her. "Because I'm the 'hired help.' "

It was her reputation he was worried about. She was touched.

Rising to her knees, Veronica reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand.

"You're not the hired help, Chad. You're a kind, giving man who tried to help me make it through the night." Her words echoed back to her, and she realized how he would interpret them. That last night had been a one-night stand, born of desperation. "And it wasn't a panic attack last night, Chad. It wasn't a choice between you and a tranquilizer." The expression in his eyes told her she'd guessed his reaction correctly. Her mouth curved into a smile. "Although the final effect was probably pretty close. I never, ever do what I don't want to."

Tucking the sheet around her, she looked at him intently. Her gaze held his.

"Know this," she said. "I'm not holding you to a single thing, but for me, last night was very special."

He wanted to tell her that it had been the same for him. That what he had experienced last night had never come his way before. That he had felt something he had never thought he would.

But the words refused to come to his lips. Because if they did, he would be tempted to think that there could be something between them. And there couldn't.

Not because of who she was but because of what he was. A man whose past had such a grip on his present that it refused to allow him to feel things normal men did.

Refused to allow him to have the normal life other men had. If something more was

allowed to grow between them, she would be the victim here. And he had been hired

to keep her from being a victim of any kind.

Even his victim.

So, instead, he looked away again and crossed to the door. "You'd better get dressed," he told her quietly. "Mind if I use the guest-room shower?"

The guest room. So he could keep distance between them. She nodded, accepting his choice. "Go right ahead. Your things are already in there."

She bit her lower lip as she heard the door open and then close. Behind him.

When Chad came down to the kitchen, Veronica was already there, dressed and ready to face a day that had everything riding on it.

Angela glanced up at him the moment he crossed the threshold. She looked disgusted, and for a moment he thought that perhaps the woman had somehow divined the connection he and Veronica had made during the long night.

But Angela merely gestured at the table with its offerings.

"Maybe you can make her eat," she declared. "She's not touching anything again."

"Have the juice." There was no nonsense in his voice as he pushed the gla.s.s in front of Veronica. "I can't have you light-headed."

Her emotions in a jumble, Veronica sat contemplating the full gla.s.s for a moment, then picked it up and forced the juice down. He was right. She needed something in her system. She felt her stomach tighten in antic.i.p.ation as the juice went down.

A little like her last night, she thought. But that was last night and today was today.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he jotted down notes to himself.

"Now the toast." He pushed another plate toward her.

Veronica made no effort to pick up a piece. "Quit while you're ahead."

His eyes met hers. "I intend to." He glanced toward her plate. "But not about this."

Because Angela was there, she wasn't free to say what she wanted to.

"I have to make a couple of calls," he told her, taking out his cell phone and slipping off the stool. "When I get back, I want to see that gone." He pointed to her plate, then stepped out into the atrium to make his calls in private.

She stared at him through the gla.s.s, then picked up a piece of toast and slowly began to eat.

Chapter 13.

Despite the constant drone of noise around her, Veronica could hear the sound of her heels as they made contact with the depot floor. She walked quickly beside Chad, looking about, wondering if the kidnapper was here somewhere, watching her.

She saw a child and her heart stopped. But it wasn't Casey. It was someone else's child, tugging on his mother's hand. A sense of longing mixed with envy filled her.

Was he here yet? Was her son here somewhere, being held on to by the man who had kidnapped him?

The pounding in her head increased as she scanned the area.

The Amtrak station still had the pristine feel to it that new buildings had.

Given the number of commuters milling around, it seemed like an incredible feat.

What struck her most was the brightness of the place. There were no sinister shadows where a kidnapper could be lurking, no dark, underground tunnels where he could quickly escape, eluding them. Everything was out in the open, illuminated either by the sun pouring in through an immense skylight or the panels of fluorescent lights artfully placed around the large facility. It would have been a place she'd have picked for the exchange. That the kidnapper had selected it made her wonder.

And gave her hope.

The lockers were near the far entrance. The second she saw them, Veronica hooked her arm through Chad's and pulled him over.

"I see them," he told her needlessly. The number the kidnapper had specified was located exactly in the middle, as if to taunt them. "The good thing about it," Chad

told her as they reached the lockers, "is that there's no way anyone can come and take the briefcase out without our seeing them. Got the key?"

Veronica handed it to him and he inserted it into the lock. It fit. "But what if we miss him somehow?"

Chad opened the door. "There's no way we could all miss him."