Chelsea glanced at Zach and found that he was looking at her. "I don't have one, not currently."

"Okay. How about an uncurrent one? The last one you went out with?" Perez said.

"Boyd Carter." Zach knew Boyd. She could tell by the way he stiffened beside her. Perez knew it too.

"How do you know this Carter guy?" he asked Zach.

"His father sits on my board of directors."

The detective closed his notebook. "Interesting. I don't know about you, Mr. McDaniels, but I want to take a look at the bedrooms."

Chelsea had taken two steps to follow them when the detective turned back to her. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to see this, Ms. Brockway. What would help us a great deal is if you could tell Detective Gray here about your relationship with Mr. Carter."

It was a very smart move, Chelsea thought as she watched Zach and the older man walk away. Now they could be grilled separately.

She wasn't looking forward to it one bit.

ZACH FOLLOWED Detective Perez down the short hallway and into the first room. It had been ransacked like the living room. The closet door was open and clothes had been yanked off the hangers and strewn every which way around the room. A chair had been overturned, a lamp smashed. The damage seemed sporadic, as if a child had succ.u.mbed to a temper tantrum.

But when they entered the next room, Zach stopped short in the doorway, and anger hit him like a two-fisted punch in the stomach.

The mattress had been ripped from the bed and there was nothing left that could be identified as clothes. Just bits of lace, shreds of cloth. If Chelsea had been here... If she'd entered the apartment instead of running... The images streaming through his mind had the fear knotting tight in his stomach.

"Tell me about Boyd Carter," Perez said.

"You think he did this?"

"I don't think anything yet. My job is just to check out the possibilities."

Possibilities. Zach's mind was filled with them as his gaze swept the room. Then he saw the words scrawled on the mirror and fear became a sickness in his stomach.

Stop peddling s.e.x. This is your last warning.

Peddling. Jerry had used that word. But he wouldn't... Clenching his hands into fists, Zach fought against the whirl of emotions raging through him and reached deep within himself for control. His brother hated him, but surely he couldn't have done this. If he had...

"I'm no psychologist, but whoever did this might be a victim of his own anger and jealousy," Perez said. "There are people who react in a very violent way when someone who used to be with them starts to date someone else."

Zach turned to the detective. "But why would Boyd Carter be jealous of me? Ms. Brockway and I haven't actually been out on a date."

"Yet." Perez gave him a level look. "Let's cut to the chase, McDaniels. My wife's a faithful fan of Good Morning, New York. It's usually on when I grab a cup of coffee on the way out the door. I happened to catch Ms. Brockway when she identified you as a hottie. If this guy is the jealous type, that might be all it took to have him a.s.sume that your relationship is more than boss-employee. In these cases, we're not talking about someone whose satellite dish gets all the channels, if you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," Zach said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I just don't think-"

"You're not supposed to think. That's my job. Just tell me everything you know about this guy."

What he knew was d.a.m.n little, Zach thought as he watched Perez close his notebook two minutes later. The detective was annoyed with him. h.e.l.l, he was annoyed with himself. He'd only met Boyd Carter at a few social functions that his aunt had dragged him to over the years. The only reason the name had rung a bell was because he'd made it his business to know who was sitting on the board of McDaniels Inc.

Could Carter be the crazed, jealous boyfriend that Perez suspected? If he was, could he be behind the notes and the attempted hit-and-run on Monday night? Or could it be Jerry...?

"You got any other candidates in mind for the crazy who did this?" Perez asked him.

For a second, Zach said nothing. Then he shook his head. "No one comes to mind, but I'll let you know if I think of someone."

"You do that, McDaniels. In the meantime, I'm a.s.suming you'll keep an eye on Ms. Brockway."

"You can bet on it," Zach said.

"I CAN'T STAY with you at your apartment," Chelsea said, bracing herself as the taxi came to a lurching stop at a traffic light.

"Before we get into that, tell me about Boyd Carter."

Chelsea sighed. "I'd rather not. Talking about him makes me feel stupid."

"Perez thinks he may have been the one who trashed your apartment."

Chelsea shook her head. "I told Detective Gray it wasn't Boyd. I simply wasn't that important to him." The taxi lurched forward, sending a pedestrian scurrying back to the curb.

"Where did you meet him?"

She sent him an exasperated glance. "You're just going to keep badgering me with questions aren't you?"

"Until you convince me that Carter didn't destroy your apartment. Where did you meet him?"

"In the restaurant where Daryl and Ramn work. I used to wait tables there part-time. He was charming and attentive. I guess you have to be if you need to have a lot of women in your life. We dated for about three months before I found out that I was merely his weekday amus.e.m.e.nt. It turned out that I was just a little fling for him. It was just about a year ago at this time that he informed me he wanted to break things off and hoped there were no bad feelings. Then he brought one of his weekend girls to the restaurant for dinner-just to drive home his point."

"The jerk," Zach said.

"It helped when Daryl spilled red wine on her dress." It also helped that Zach had taken her hand in his.

"Remind me to congratulate Daryl."

"You can cross Boyd the b.u.m off your list. Believe me, he hasn't given me a thought since he dumped me. I was never that important to him."

When he said nothing, merely raised her hand to his lips, something started to flutter in her stomach. It was the same feeling she'd experienced at the restaurant when Zach had mentioned to Daryl that she'd be staying with him at his apartment.

Not fear. It was much different than the iciness that had been rolling around inside of her from the moment that she'd seen her apartment door slightly ajar.

It wasn't nerves she was feeling either because it was nothing like the b.u.t.terflies that whammed around inside of her when she went to the dentist. No, she was almost positive that the quick skip of her heart she experienced whenever she pictured herself alone with Zach in his apartment was antic.i.p.ation.

"About staying in your apartment..." She paused as the taxi careened around a corner into Central Park and her hand slipped from Zach's. "It's not necessary. My roommates can keep an eye on me."

"Yes."

The short December day had ended. Even when a streetlight briefly illuminated his features, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. But he'd agreed with her. She should be feeling relief, not disappointment. Beyond him through the window, she could see the Tavern on the Green lit up like a fairy-tale castle.

There was always a midnight, said the warning voice in the back of her mind.

"Yes what?" she asked.

"Yes, you have two roommates who can keep an eye on you. But they don't get home from work until almost two in the morning. I promised Detective Perez that I would personally keep an eye on you."

Chelsea clasped her hands tightly together in her lap. What in the world was the matter with her? She wanted to go to Zach McDaniels's apartment, to be alone with him. There was a part of her that had wanted that from the first time that he'd kissed her. The heat that shot through her every time she pictured being alone with him, kissing him again, was...desire. Giving in to it would be the worst possible thing that either one of them could do.

"I don't think that going to your apartment would be the smartest idea," she said.

"No."

Chelsea felt her heart sink to her stomach. "Then it's settled."

He turned to her then. "Chelsea, you're staying with me until we find out who's responsible for the threats."

It was joy she was feeling now, wild and free. It was ridiculous and it was wrong and it was absolutely wonderful.

"Ramn and Daryl will be staying at my place too, until your landlord fixes the door and beefs up the security system. I have three guest rooms, plenty of s.p.a.ce for everyone. That way all of us will have our eyes on you."

Chelsea stared at him while her heart plummeted right down to her toes.

"I thought you'd feel more comfortable so I made the arrangements with Daryl when we stopped by the restaurant. He has a key."

"You think of everything." Everything except what she'd been thinking. And wanting.

CHELSEA STARED at herself in the small mirror that graced the executive bathroom in Zach's office. Studying her reflection only confirmed what she knew already. She had a straight nose, okay mouth, flyaway hair and fairly plain features.

No one would ever mistake her for a beauty and until this very minute she'd never aspired to be one.

She'd had a different kind of a dream.

Zach McDaniels was mixing her all up. Turning, she paced the small distance to the shower, then whirled and walked to the door. She wanted him in spite of the fact that he was a total mistake-a heartbreaker, everything her mother had ever warned her against in a man.

In the plus column, he wasn't a b.u.m. A b.u.m didn't offer to take you and your roommates into his home. She might prefer that Zach wanted to carry her off alone to his apartment, but she couldn't deny that his willingness to provide shelter for her roommates was sweet.

She paced to the shower and back to the door. On the minus side, he didn't seem to want her.

And that was a big minus-a real sticking point.

For the past half hour since they'd arrived at his office he'd either been on the phone or sitting at his conference table totally absorbed in the page proofs for the next issue of the magazine. He seemed to have forgotten all about her.

Turning, she walked back to the mirror and studied her reflection again. The truth was she was totally forgettable. All her life men had walked away from her and never given her another thought. Her father had been the first, but certainly not the last. Boyd the b.u.m had only been the most recent in a string of men who'd forgotten her. There'd been Jimmy, the boy who'd given her her first-rather sloppy and disgusting-kiss.

She turned away from the mirror and paced to the door again. It wouldn't do to go through a litany of all of them. It was simply too depressing. Once this business with the threats was over and her articles had all been written and printed, Zach would walk away and forget her, too.

Unless she did something about it...

Stopping short on her path to the shower, she glanced down at the skirt. Could she use it? There were times when she was sure it had worked on Zach.

It was only recently that it hadn't. Could it be losing its power? Quickly, she pressed a hand to the bubble of panic that was blossoming in her stomach. Perhaps, the staples and the tape had weakened it.

Unfastening it at the waist, she pulled down the zipper, then wiggled it down her legs. When she picked it up, she heard two staples ping against the tile floor. Carefully hanging it over the towel rack, she ran her hand down it and rubbed the hem between her fingers.

It looked just the way she felt herself-limp and tired. She didn't see any trace of that shininess that she'd glimpsed when Torrie had tossed it high in the air at the wedding. Moving back, she let the light over the mirror hit it straight on.

Nothing. It looked like an ordinary, basic black skirt.

She sank down onto the toilet and studied it. A few hours ago, she'd been worried that the skirt was working too well on Zach-that he'd never be attracted to her just for herself. Now she was worried that it wasn't working at all. Suddenly, the humor of the situation struck her and she began to laugh.

The sudden knock on the door had her covering her mouth with her hand.

"Are you all right in there?"

She spread her fingers enough to say, "Fine. I'm fine." Then she clamped them shut over her lips to smother a fresh burst of giggles. Clenching her other hand into a fist, she dug her nails into the palm of her hand and took deep breaths. She had to get control.

Control. She flew up off the toilet seat. That was it. Whirling, she began to pace again. Zach had a thing about it. He didn't want to want her. He didn't even like it. She was just going to have to figure out a way to break through that tight control he had.

Frowning, she studied the skirt again. Surely, it hadn't lost its power entirely. Miranda had sworn that it had worked on Harrison Marsh. Maybe there was a way to revive it. Taking it off the rack, she gave it a little shake. More staples pinged against the tiles and a strip of tape floated to the floor. But when she held it to the light, there still wasn't even the glimmer of a shine.

Moonlight, she thought suddenly. Perhaps that was the key. There'd been a full moon in the sky when they'd entered the building.

As the last piece of tape hit the floor, a thought struck her. How in the world was she going to keep the thing on?

9.

ZACH PACED to the bathroom door again. She'd been in there forever. He had his hand raised to knock when he heard the low sound-a moan?

He rapped on the door. "Chelsea?"

"I'm...fine."

She didn't sound fine. She sounded upset. h.e.l.l, she had a right to be. Every time he thought of what might have happened if she'd been in her apartment, if she hadn't had the sense to run, fear and a sense of helplessness twisted in his gut. His hand was reaching for the k.n.o.b when he caught himself.

She was safe. That was the important thing. If she was upset, crying, and he opened the door right now, he would take her into his arms. And once he touched her...

He wouldn't be able to stop there. Turning, he made himself walk to the window, as far away from the bathroom door as he could get. The sky was clear enough to reveal a few stars-he counted five, one brighter than the others.

Keep her safe. The moment he'd made the wish in his mind, he frowned. He hadn't wished on a star in years. Not since he'd learned that wishes didn't come true.

Shifting his attention to the moon, he saw that it was huge and so bright that it nearly made him blink.

You'll never let her go...

He didn't want to let Chelsea go. The realization streamed through him, leaving him stunned. He wanted to take care of her and protect her. He had from the first moment that he'd seen her.