"I'll be right there." Tears came to her eyes when she thought about Reed being hurt.... Did this have something to do with Winston? Or with Clint Lockhart? She brushed the tears away. She had to make sure that Reed was truly all right...and then, if this was Winston's doing, she had to think about leaving.

When Mallory arrived at Ryan's, the doctor was in one of the guest rooms examining Reed. She wanted to rush into the room, but she knew she should wait until the doctor was finished. Lily and Matilda stayed by her side, saying supportive things, but she could tell they were as worried as she was.

Brody came over to her. "I didn't mean to insult you or cause trouble between you and Reed the other night at the party."

"I know you didn't. You care about Reed. That's what brothers are for."

Tilting his head, Brody said, "I think you're good for him. For what it's worth."

"It's worth a lot," she said softly.

When Reed's brother put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze, tears came to her eyes.

Finally the doctor emerged from the bedroom, leaving the door ajar. "He thinks he's Crocodile Dundee," the elderly man said with a shake of his head. "But nothing's broken, no signs of concussion. Internal organs sound and feel fine. His ribs are sore, and he has bruises-those will look worse before they look better. But other than that, he should be okay. Tie him down tonight if you have to, so he gets some rest. He really should stay in bed tomorrow, too, but I doubt if he will." The doctor shook his head again. "One tough Australian."

"Can I go in?" Mallory asked.

"If he doesn't come out first," the doctor joked.

With a feeling of relief bringing tears to her eyes again, she stepped inside the room.

Reed was sitting on the edge of the bed, his soft chambray shirt open down the front, his hands braced on the side of the mattress. His lip was split, and there was a long, red, purplish discoloration along his jawline. He seemed oblivious to her, and she wondered exactly how much pain he was in. She wanted to start crying all over again. But that was silly, and it wouldn't help him.

"Reed?" she asked softly.

He raised his head then, and she could see his chest had the same red mark as his jaw.

"What can I do?" she asked.

"Pack me in ice." His almost-smile was crooked.

Going closer, she knelt in front of him. "Do you have any idea who did this? Everyone's suggesting it had something to do with Clint Lockhart-"

"This is Bentley's fault."

"How do you know?"

"Because one of them gave me a message. I'm supposed to send you back to California, or the next time will be worse."

"Oh, Reed. Maybe I should go back and have this out with Winston."

"You're not going anywhere near him. If they did this to me, G.o.d knows what they'd do to you."

"But you'll be in danger if I stay."

He closed his eyes for a moment. "Can we talk about this after I get some ice? I want to go back to the cabin."

"Do you think you should? Move around, I mean?"

"If I don't move around, I'm not going to be able to move. Let's go." When he stood, she wasn't sure he was steady. But as she slipped her arm around him, he jerked away. "I'm fine, Mallory."

Why couldn't he need her, just a little bit?

Out in the hall, he brushed away everyone's concern. "I just need a good night's sleep."

"I'll drive you," Dawson said.

When Reed looked as though he might try to macho his way through driving back, too, Mallory intervened. "Please let Dawson drive."

"All right," he mumbled grudgingly.

Ryan handed him his hat. "If you need anything, you call me."

Reed nodded and made his way down the hall. He walked through the great room slowly, but under his own steam. In the foyer, Matilda gave him a careful hug; Brody clasped his shoulder. But Griff said, just loud enough for Mallory to overhear, "If you need to do anything about this, I'll help you."

The thought of the two brothers taking on Winston Bentley made her very nervous-and worried.

At the adobe, Mallory hopped out of the back seat of Dawson's luxury sedan and opened the front door for Reed. He glanced up at her, but she knew he wouldn't accept her help. He'd get out of the car on his own steam, no matter how much it hurt. Once inside the cabin, he started for the sofa, but she said, "Take the bed, Reed, please."

He gave her a long look, then went to the bed and stretched out.

Dawson was standing at the door. "I think I'm going to leave you two alone. He doesn't want anybody to see him like this. But you call me if there's any problem, and I'll stop over tomorrow to check on him."

"Thank you, Dawson." Her voice got husky.

He wrapped her in a big hug. "It's going to be okay, Mallory."

She closed the door behind Dawson and made sure the security alarm was activated.

Lily had given her three ice bags that they kept on hand. After putting two of them in the freezer, Mallory wrapped one in a fresh towel and took it into Reed. His eyes were closed, his shirt wide open. The marks and sc.r.a.pes on him were becoming more obvious. But even in his beat-up condition, she found him to be the s.e.xiest man alive.

Opening his eyes, he trained them on her. "I'm not sure where to put the ice first."

"I have more than one pack. How about some acetaminophen? That might help a little."

"I'll get it." He tried to prop himself up on his elbows and turn so he could slide out of bed without hurting his ribs.

Giving his shoulder a gentle shove, she ordered, "Stay put." When her thumb met his shirt, she couldn't turn away from his mesmerizing blue eyes.

He cleared his throat. "I have to move to the sofa, anyway."

"No. You stay right there. You should probably get your clothes off so you're more comfortable."

"Wanna help me?" he asked with a glimmer of amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes.

Reed getting hurt had taught her something about loving him. She'd rather love him while she could, rather than push away from him. "You're not in any condition for what you're suggesting."

"And if I was?" His expression had gone dead serious.

"I'd help you take your clothes off," she answered in almost a whisper.

He didn't comment on her change of course but pulled a long breath of air into his lungs. "Well, then, maybe you should get comfortable, too, and come hold the ice bag for me."

It was an invitation she wasn't going to refuse. She couldn't wait to curl up next to him...tend to him, love him, any way she could, for as long as she could. "I'll get your pills and be right back." She laid the ice bag on the bed and went into the bathroom.

When she emerged with a small cup of water and the pills, he'd managed to undress down to his briefs, but the effort had cost him. Sweat beaded his brow. He was seated on the edge of the bed again as if he had to sh.o.r.e up his strength before he could stretch out.

Fetching a pillow from behind the sofa bed, she laid it on top of the one already there so he'd be more comfortable. Then he swung his legs up and lay back with a wince. "I guess we'd better put that ice on the ribs."

Quickly undressing, she pulled on her nightgown, then lay next to him, settling the ice bag across his ribs. "Can I get you anything else?"

"You could kiss it all away," he said, half joking, half serious.

Mallory, oh, so carefully, gently kissed his bruised jaw and then his split lip.

His arm came around her. "Mallory..." His voice was filled with the same need she saw in his eyes. But she knew he needed rest more than he needed anything else. She pushed his hair back from his brow as she'd wanted to do so very often. "You need to sleep now, Reed. I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Stay close," he murmured as he closed his eyes.

She curled up beside him, careful not to hurt him, knowing she had lost her heart irrevocably.

The sun wasn't quite up when she felt Reed move. "Do you need another ice bag?" she asked.

"I need you."

The way he was looking at her in the predawn light, she knew he meant it. "You shouldn't."

"That doesn't mean I can't."

Her gaze dropped to his briefs where it was very evident what he could do. "Maybe you should put the ice bag down there," she teased.

"You're a little witch," he responded, slipping his hand under her hair, cradling her head, bringing her to him. "Kissing's a little tough right now," he murmured as his lips brushed her cheek and then over her mouth.

"I think everything else would be, too."

"The pleasure would definitely be worth the pain," he whispered into her ear. His beard stubble was an erotic tease against her skin, his breath warm and sensual.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he answered. But when he went to prop himself up on his elbow, he couldn't, and he swore.

She wanted to give him a gift for everything he'd given her. But she didn't know if he'd accept it. Kissing his forehead, she murmured, "It's all right. Stay still. We'll do this another way." Before he could protest, she slipped her nightgown over her head and lay naked beside him.

He managed to skim off his briefs and drop them to the floor. "You can straddle me," he said, his voice husky.

"I'm afraid I'll hurt you. Let me just try something else." Before he had a chance to ask her what, her hand tenderly slid over his navel. When he sucked in a breath, she knew it was pleasure, not pain. He was fully aroused. Bending to him, her hair brushed his stomach, and then she touched her lips to him.

"Mallory, you can't."

She raised her head. "Oh, yes, I can. Let me do this for you, Reed. Please. You've done so much for me."

It was several moments until he gave her an almost imperceptible nod. She bent toward him again and loved him with her hands, and her lips and her tongue-soft caresses, gentle sucking, long strokes-until he clasped her shoulder and roughly said, "Turn onto your side." Somehow he managed to roll onto his. Then he took her leg over his hip and eased into her.

Arousing him had aroused her, and she met each thrust, wanting to give him as much pleasure as he could handle. But he was giving her pleasure, too. He caressed her thigh, then touched the flash point of her pleasure until an undulating wave of ecstasy rolled over her, lifting her, throwing her, sweeping her closer to him. Her name was a deep guttural groan as he found his own release and clasped her to him tightly.

When they opened their eyes, they gazed at each other. "You're a special woman, Mallory."

She wanted to tell him he was more than special to her, that he was the love of her life...her only love...her true love. But she couldn't go chasing off after him to Australia when her life had to be sorted out here. Besides, he'd made no mention of his feelings, and for all she knew, they were still wrapped up in Stephanie Milton.

Mallory and Reed were still joined when she said, "I should leave. I don't want to put you in any more danger. I should have known when I overheard Winston-" She stopped.

"What did you overhear?"

She told Reed about the conversation she'd overheard before she'd left San Francisco.

After listening, Reed muttered, "We're going to get him off of our backs, once and for all."

"But how can we?"

He kissed her forehead. "I'm going to shower, then call Dawson and Griff. After a strategy session, I'll tell you how."

Reed's jaw had turned more black and blue, but the determined set of it told her she couldn't dissuade him from whatever plan he was coming up with. After he showered, he made the two phone calls. He was moving slowly, but moving, and she realized that nothing was going to keep him down. But she had her own plans on how she was going to get him to rest for the day.

When he hung up the phone, he explained, "Dawson's going to call me after he gets what I need."

"What do you need?"

"Dirt on Bentley. Dawson says Sam Waterman isn't only a security expert, but he knows some of the best P.I.'s in the business. We should have something by this afternoon. Griff's going to meet us here around five. The only way to get Bentley is to beat him at his own game, and I can do that if I have the right information."

Stepping close to him, she said, "I don't want you to get hurt again."

He enfolded her in his arms. "I don't intend to."

She was naked, too, and their heartbeats synchronized. Tipping her head up, she offered, "I could bring you breakfast in bed."

"Is this a bribe so I'll stay here today?"

"Could be. Will it work?"

"Only if you'll let me do for you what you did for me early this morning."

The pictures that exploded in her head excited her and aroused her just thinking about them. "I'll let you do anything you want," she promised, standing on tiptoe to kiss him, hoping she could make him forget about Stephanie Milton altogether.

When Reed received the information he needed, realizing he should have gone on the offensive earlier with Bentley, he developed a plan. According to Sam Waterman, most of Bentley's deals were a matter of public record, and he trod a thin legal line. But what went on behind the scenes wasn't on the public record, and that's where Reed needed to concentrate. As he discovered, using the information Dawson had secured for him, Bentley usually bought whatever he wanted. When he couldn't, he terrorized until he got it.

Monday morning, five days after Bentley's men had jumped him, Reed and Griff flew to San Francisco-against Mallory's protests. Reed had decided not to take the company jet; he didn't want to announce to Bentley that he was coming. The worry in Mallory's eyes had bothered him, but he knew this was something he had to do to get her free of Bentley. When he wasn't on the phone investigating further leads over the weekend, they'd spent the rest of the time in bed. The desire he felt for her was all-consuming and never seemed to lessen. He didn't understand it now, any more than he had the first night he'd met her.

When he and Griff arrived in San Francisco, they checked into a hotel and then visited one person after another-all people Bentley had stepped on-and doc.u.mented everything they could. None of Bentley's victims could be convinced to file charges or testify against him. Some of them had been hurt physically by Bentley's thugs, but insisted they didn't want to cause trouble because they had families to protect. Yet Reed suspected they could be prodded if they knew they weren't alone. But it would take rea.s.surance...convincing...and time. He needed to insure Mallory's safety now.