He turned all the way around to face her, making her take an unexpected step back. Only then did she remember that she was minus one shoe.

"I'm not giving you my weapon and I'm d.a.m.n sure not climbing into the trunk of that car."

Why was it men always thought that women weren't serious when they gave an order?

"You might want to rethink that, Maxwell." She smiled saccharinely. "After all, I'm the one holding the gun."

He glanced at her weapon, then back at her, a hint of a smile lingering around the corners of his s.e.xy mouth. "You're not going to shoot me."

Fury streaked through her and she c.o.c.ked the weapon before she could think better of it. "Says who?" She lifted an eyebrow.

Now she had him. He looked decidedly more accommodating.

"Put the weapon down, Scout," he suggested. "I know you don't want to do this. Let's talk about it."

"I'm through talking to you." She jerked her head in the direction of the sedan. "Now, let's go."

"Drop the weapon."

The male voice came from right behind her, and she felt the nudge of a cold steel barrel on the back of her neck. Now she had a dilemma.

"I don't think so," she replied. Heck, what did she have to lose? Maybe Alexon didn't give a rat's tail about Max's life, but they did want her in one piece. They wouldn't kill her.

Three things happened in the next few seconds. Something pa.s.sed between the two men; Scout saw it in Max's eyes. A bout of morning sickness. .h.i.t her-so hard that she had to slap her left hand over her mouth. And her right arm was suddenly knocked upward, forcing her aim away from Max.

When a second wave of nausea hit she would have dropped her weapon entirely if the man behind her hadn't snagged it from her hand. She made a mad dash for the rear of the SUV and broke into a fit of dry heaves.

She could hear Max and the other man talking, but she couldn't stop heaving long enough to do anything about it. Since she hadn't consumed anything since last night there wasn't much to lose, but the spasms plagued her for several more minutes. She wished for water and for crackers, about the only things she could safely eat and drink in the mornings. G.o.d, this part was supposed to be over by now.

"You okay?" Max moved up behind her, his tone filled with concern.

"Of course I'm not okay," she griped. She wiped her trembling lips with the back of her hand and tried to ignore the sour taste in her mouth. But that was nothing compared to the reality that it was over; she was caught. Max wasn't here to help her. She would never be able to bring her uncle's killer to justice.

And she'd failed.

Failed to keep her baby safe.

"We should go inside."

The other man was speaking. Scout glanced in his direction, but didn't recognize him. He was tall, dark and entirely too handsome to be a bad guy. But he had to be. He and Max were in this together. They both, no doubt, worked for Alexon.

Max nodded toward the other man. "This is Simon Ruhl. He's also with the Colby Agency."

If that was supposed to make her feel any better, it didn't.

"Did Alexon hire you, as well?" she asked of the enigmatic man watching her so studiously. That dark gaze cut briefly to Max.

"Miss Jackson," Ruhl said, the voice every bit as dark and mysterious as he appeared, "it would be best if we continued this discussion inside."

It wasn't as if she had a choice, but when Max reached for her arm, she jerked away from him. He shrugged and waited for her to walk ahead of him.

"I need my shoe."

Max looked startled to see that she wore only one runner. His gaze went from eyes to her feet and back. "What happened to it?"

"Trade secret." She turned her back and marched over to the sedan. The trunk lid was still up so she simply reached inside and retrieved her sock and sneaker. Bracing her weight against the car, she tugged on first one and then the other. The two men waited impatiently a few feet away. They looked anywhere but at her as if what she was doing was intensely personal. Men ... she'd never understand what made them tick.

The three entered the building and boarded the elevator. Scout's stomach roiled again with the upward movement. Her head was pounding and she was sure any minute now she'd be sick again. What else could go wrong? Don't ask, she scolded herself. She really, really didn't want to know.

"Do you need a physician, Miss Jackson?" Simon Ruhl asked.

"She's fine," Max said pointedly before she could answer.

The two men exchanged looks again. Max seemed as mad as h.e.l.l; Simon simply appeared bemused. Why couldn't the fathers have the morning sickness? Scout thought, tossing a glare in Max's direction.

When the elevator doors opened, Scout was the first to move. She needed a drink and a ladies' room. Now. But she stopped abruptly, realizing she had no clue where the ladies' room was.

"I need-"

She didn't have to say the rest. Max pointed to the end of a long corridor. "On the left."

He followed a few yards behind her. Though his steps were m.u.f.fled by the luxurious carpet, and she didn't look back, she could feel him watching her. Let him think what he would. It was for the best that he didn't know the truth. If she couldn't trust him with her life, why would she trust him with her child's?

She slipped into the powder room and closed the door behind her before taking a moment to lean against it. She shut her eyes and tried to stop the spinning that had suddenly started in her head. She needed food, but she wasn't sure she could hold it down. She needed sleep, but that was impossible at the moment.

A tremble ran through her and she fought the urge to give in to tears. She'd done more than her share of that lately. Hormones, she reasoned. She was pregnant, after all. Seeing Max again didn't help. She'd thought she was over him ... but now she knew better. She would never be over him. No matter how he betrayed her.

Bolstering her resolve with a deep breath, she pushed away from the door and took care of necessary business. She washed her face and rinsed her mouth until the bitter taste was gone, then took a long drink of water, praying it would stay down. She waited for a while just to make sure before leaving the confines of the elegant ladies' room. It would likely be her only reprieve from what was to come. The man outside the door would want answers.

Max waited in the hall. He started to knock again, but forced himself to be patient. It wasn't easy. He was edgy and d.a.m.n worried about her.

He didn't understand the intensity of the worry. It wasn't even his child she was carrying. He shouldn't feel anything beyond basic human compa.s.sion. Certainly not the raging jealously currently ripping his insides to shreds. When he thought about the jerk who'd shown up at her uncle's house this morning, he wanted to hit something.

Was she still in love with Gage?

Max closed his eyes and blew out a breath. Who she loved or didn't love was not his business. Learning about the pregnancy should have given him a clearer perspective on the woman. Instead it had only unbalanced him further. How could he still feel this way, knowing she was expecting another man's child?

Maybe Kimble had taken advantage of her. "And maybe you're an idiot," Max muttered.

"Everything all right?" Simon stopped a few feet away, conscious of Max's need for s.p.a.ce at the moment, but, at the same time, concerned for his coworker, who was very obviously losing control.

Max shrugged. "We have issues to clear up before Alexon is alerted to her whereabouts."

Simon nodded. "Cooper is still in Houston?"

"Yeah. He was supposed to come back today, but I asked him to stay awhile longer." Since I thought we'd lost Scout, Max didn't add.

Simon read people too well. He knew something was very wrong, but he was too much of a gentleman to make the accusation. Simon Ruhl was former FBI and had worked his way up the food chain very quickly at the Colby Agency. He served as second in command whenever Ian Michaels was away. Though he worked cases regularly himself, he was briefed daily by Ian and Victoria as to the status of all ongoing investigations.

"It's a good thing I decided to come to the office early this morning," he said, giving Max the opportunity to explain what had happened in the parking lot without having to ask.

"We had a little disagreement," Max hedged. There was no point in going into all the details. Simon had no way of knowing what a wildcat Scout could be. Max would get the situation back under control. Eventually.

Simon nodded again. "Let me know if there's anything you need."

"Sure thing." Max watched as he walked away. There were guys who were slick and there were guys who were smooth. Simon Ruhl was both. He knew Max wasn't giving him the whole story, but he trusted him to do the right thing.

Now, if Max could just gain Scout's trust. He wasn't completely sure what he'd done to lose it in the first place, but whatever it was, he had to find a way to win her over. It was the only way they were ever going to get anywhere with this investigation. He and Scout needed to go someplace safe and private to have a long heart-to-heart talk. Too much between them needed settling. Alexon wouldn't wait forever. They would want results soon.

Max didn't want to be faced with a decision between betraying Scout and betraying the agency.

That was the last thing he wanted.

With his patience running thin, he turned back to the door and raised his fist to knock. The door opened before he could.

"I'm ready to go now," Scout announced solemnly.

A frown aggravated the headache throbbing beneath his brow. "Go where?" What the h.e.l.l was she up to now?

She looked up at him, those big gray eyes filled with resignation. "You're going to turn me over to Alexon, aren't you?" She shrugged wearily. "I can't win. Do what you have to do. I won't hold it against you. You're only doing your job." When he would have spoken, she added, "I'd do the same thing if Alexon had hired me to find you."

She had to rub it in. She couldn't see that he'd already pushed Alexon to the limit by refusing to bring her in immediately. "Just come with me," he growled. He wanted to grab her by the arm, drag her to his office and give her a firm shake, but he knew if he touched her he'd lose even more of his objectivity. Instead, he pivoted and led the way, watching from the corner of his eye to make sure she followed. He wasn't about to trust her again not to run. They had reached the proverbial Mexican standoff. Neither of them wanted to trust the other.

Once he'd closed the door, blocking out all else, he gestured to a chair and she settled into it, her head held high, her shoulders squared despite her melodramatic display of surrender.

Even her posture made him furious.

Rather than pace as he desperately needed to, Max forced himself to sit down on the edge of his desk, well above her eye level, and then focus his full attention on her. He was in charge now. She needed to know that. He wasn't swallowing the "I surrender" act for a second.

"Start from the beginning," he directed curtly, "and tell me every little thing, no matter how seemingly insignificant, that happened from the moment we parted ways four months ago until we met again in the cemetery."

She turned suddenly a little green around the gills. He recognized the look. He'd seen it before when she'd made that abrupt dash for the rear of his SUV.

"If I don't eat something I'm pretty sure I might throw up again," she said bluntly.

Max opened his mouth to reply, but before he could find the right words, she launched herself from her chair and lunged for the wastebasket between his desk and credenza. She heaved violently. His own stomach tensed in sympathy.

After a moment she straightened and offered him a wobbly smile. "Too late."

Chapter Nine.

Max waited patiently while Scout nibbled on the snack crackers and sipped a cola. Once he'd settled her in the lounge next to the reception area, he'd put in a call to Cooper to let him know he could return to Chicago. Max would likely need him for backup surveillance.

He tried his level best not to dwell on the idea that Scout was pregnant, or on the jerk, Kimble, who'd fathered the child. The strangest sensation swelled inside Max every time he thought about the two of them together. He knew it was jealousy plain and simple, but the ferocity of it startled him. He'd known all along that something special had sparked between him and Scout four months ago. Apparently he hadn't realized just how deeply the emotion had gone, on his part, anyway. She hadn't felt the same, obviously. If she had, surely she wouldn't have run immediately into another man's arms.

Max closed his eyes and pushed away that line of thinking. He had to stay focused on the case. No matter whose child she carried, she needed his help-though she clearly didn't realize it yet. If her safety was truly Alexon's primary agenda, Max had to convince her of that. If, as she believed, Alexon was the enemy, he had to keep her safe. And the baby as well, he added ruefully, until he could prove it.

"I got the first call about three or four weeks after we were released," she said, breaking the long minutes of silence between them.

She stood, picked up her soft-drink can and food wrapper and deposited them in the nearby trash receptacle. Taking her time, as if considering carefully what she wanted to say next, she resumed her seat.

"For more than a month they sent someone to me regularly or had me drop by a local Houston lab to provide blood samples and the like. They even flew me up here a couple of times." A frown marred the smoothness of her pale brow.

Unbidden, the urge to reach out and caress away the troubling lines bloomed inside Max. He resisted.

"You agreed without question?" he asked suddenly. That would be so unlike the woman he'd thought he'd known in that jungle, and then in isolation four months ago.

She drew a heavy breath and released it slowly. "No. I questioned the necessity right away, but they kept insisting that it was essential to my continued good health." She looked directly at him then. "They told me you were doing the same thing."

He shook his head, his own brow furrowing in confusion. "Until a few days ago I hadn't heard from Alexon since they released us."

"Well, that's what they told me, anyway. Then, about two months ago, they insisted I fly to Chicago again for further evaluation. They said you'd be there, as well. I figured I could drop by and see my uncle while I was in town, so I agreed without much convincing." She shrugged. "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

"They held me against my will for six weeks." She shook her head. "Uncle Harold finally realized what they had done and rescued me. He was helping me escape and they killed him."

Max's gut clenched every time he heard the harrowing story. If he found out that Alexon had lied to him ... Though he couldn't imagine they could be that dirty without Victoria's knowledge. "But you managed to avoid being recaptured," he prodded, needing to hear the rest.

She nodded. "They hadn't expected me to fight like a man." She smiled. "I took two of them down before I ditched the others." Her smile faded instantly. "I didn't get the one who killed my uncle. I can't ID his face, since they were all dressed in black, including ski masks, but I know his voice and the way he moves." Her gaze connected with Max's once more, and the savagery burning there unsettled him. "But I will find him before this is over."

Max didn't doubt her for a moment. He knew the kind of resolve she possessed. The men who'd come after them at his cabin had been dressed exactly the way she described. "And your boyfriend," he began cautiously. "Where was he while this was all going on?" She'd told him they'd only had dinner that once. Had dinner turned into something else and resulted in the child she now carried? Fury boiled up in Max. He tamped it down. He had to stay cool on the subject or risk losing the unsteady ground he'd gained in the last few minutes.

She looked away now, unable or unwilling to maintain eye contact. "We only saw each other that once, shortly after I was released." She looked at Max then, looked him straight in the eye and said without hesitation, "But that's all it was ... just that once."

Whatever point she was trying to make was lost on Max in his present condition of teetering between outrage and all-consuming jealousy. "I understand that once is all it takes."

Her cheeks flushed, and he didn't miss the flare of anger in her eyes. She jerked from her pocket the folded pages he'd found at her uncle's house, and spread them on the table. Taking her time, she carefully smoothed out the creases and studied the information written there.

"This proves that Alexon intended to s.n.a.t.c.h my baby at all costs," she said, pushing the doc.u.ments toward him. "How can you still believe they aren't involved?"

Max reviewed all three pages with painstaking thoroughness. The papers doc.u.mented the numerous tests confirming her pregnancy and the results of various blood tests. And then there was the note stating that the child was to be secured at all costs. But the doc.u.ments did not carry Alexon's logo on the letterhead. In fact, there was no heading on any of the pages. There were no identifying marks whatsoever. It just didn't make sense that Alexon would hire a firm as reputable as the Colby Agency if they were carrying on these kinds of underhanded tactics behind the scenes. Their treachery was bound to be discovered by a competent firm. Why would they murder her uncle and then give him a high-cla.s.s send-off?

At last Max looked up from the doc.u.ments, and Scout found herself holding her breath, waiting for his decision. Would he believe her? And help her bring down Alexon?

"I want to believe you, Scout." He probed her with that blue gaze and she recognized the sincerity there. "But there's nothing here that ties the doc.u.ments to Alexon. I'm not saying Alexon isn't involved on some level, but we can't prove they're the bad guys. It's still your word against theirs."

She shoved back her chair, the legs sc.r.a.ping across the slick marble, and stood. Glaring down at him, she forced as much fury into her voice as she could muster. "And, of course, we both know who you believe. Why don't you just go ahead and turn me over to them now? Why pretend you're going to help me? Just do what they're paying you to, and stop playing games with me!" The rising hysteria in her voice took most of the conviction out of her fury, but it was the best she could do. By the time the final words were spoken she was shaking like a frightened child. She hated this sense of helplessness.

Why had he barged back into her life? She could have gone on pretending she didn't care if the father of her child was ever involved in their lives. She could have continued to fool herself into thinking that she didn't care about him. It had been nothing but a volatile combination of stress and l.u.s.t that brought them together in the first place. But no, he'd had to come charging in like a superhero, and now she could no longer deny the truth she'd hidden from herself.

She needed Max on a very personal level.