Marianne decided to take advantage of their fight to run for the door.

She'd barely reached it before the American caught her. He swung her up in his arms.

She kicked with everything she had and screamed while trying to claw his eyes out.

The other two men laughed.

The American sat her down hard in the chair and held her there with an ease of strength that was truly terrifying.

He turned his icy gaze back to hers. "Look, no one's going to hurt you, okay?"

"You're going to kill Kyle."

A lopsided grin broke across the man's face, showing her a set of perfectly white teeth. "Not today, I'm not. I just want to teach him a lesson."

She launched herself at him.

He actually laughed as he held her easily away from him. "Well, the little teacher has spunk." He set her back in the chair. Again. "Listen to me, Marianne. You had a fantasy to be a damsel in distress, right?"

She swallowed her tears as she looked back and forth between the men.

"You don't look like actors."

"Yeah, well," the American said. "That's because we're not."

"Then what are you?"

"We're friends of Kyle's."

The German snorted at that. "Since when?"

Marianne glared at the American. "I knew you were lying."

"Look, I swear, I'm not lying about this." He looked at the German.

"Dieter, really, don't help me here, okay?"

"Fine, Retter. Don't call me the next time you need some Scheiflekopf to help you."

That diabolical half smile played across the American's face. "Your words, not mine."

Marianne froze as the man's name registered in her mind.

Retter...

The name went through her like glass. She knew who this man was.

Kyle had told her much about his pseudo-partner who didn't listen to anyone except himself. Kyle's exact words had been "Retter is a dickhead, but he gets the job done with scary reliability. The man strikes like lightning."

Retter turned back toward her. "I'm just playing a joke on Kyle for making me have to come out here to retrieve him. Since you wanted to be a damsel in distress, I was going to give you what you wanted while I jerked his chain. I'm sorry I scared you so badly. I'm used to dealing with agents who would sooner have their hearts cut out than cry."

She narrowed her eyes on the man before her. Still skeptical, Marianne wasn't sure what to believe. "How do I know you're who you say you are?"

"You'll just have to take my word for it."

"If I don't?"

Reno laughed. "I really like this woman, Retter. She thinks you're an asshole, too."

He gave Reno a cold, brutal look before those piercingly blue eyes moved back to her. "You'd be wise never to accept my word on anything, but if I kill Kyle, I'd have to explain it to Joe and then he'd get bent and then I'd have to kill him, too, and that would make his woman go wild on me. And it's all just more trouble than even I want to deal with at the moment. So, see, he's safe."

There was a light in his eyes that said he would enjoy the challenge of the fight in spite of what he said, but there was also something charming and oddly warm about this man.

Marianne nodded quietly at him. "He'd better be safe," she warned him.

"I don't know who Joe or his woman is, but if you do anything to Kyle, I swear Joe's woman going wild on you will seem like a walk in paradise compared to what I'll do to you."

Kyle stalked back and forth in anger as he tried to figure out who could have taken Marianne while he slept.

He discounted the morons on the other side of the island. He'd been hanging them from trees and escaping them with barely more than a fierce growl. They could never have perpetrated anything like this.

It would have to be someone stealthy. Someone who knew how lightly he slept and how to move about without waking him...

He cursed as one name resonated in his head.

Retter.

There was no one else it could be.

Kyle's sight clouded at the thought. It had to be. Retter was the only man Kyle had ever known who could maneuver around him while he slept and not wake him. The man was part ghost.

But how did Retter know about Tyson Purdue?

He'd made the name up and...

He paused as he glanced back at the chicken and the crisp handwriting.

There must be a bug on him somewhere. There had to be. Joe was ever paranoid about losing agents and bugged almost every piece of equipment they had. The only reason Kyle hadn't thought of it sooner was the fact that every time he called Joe demanding a ride out of this place, Joe had laughed at him and told him to get lost.

It had never occurred to him that Joe would have the stuff on the island tagged, but since he'd raided the BAD supply closet for supplies, he should have known.

"Damn it."

Pissed and wanting blood, he called the number again.

No one answered.

So he dialed Joe's office where Joe's girlfriend The picked it up on the third ring.

"The, this is Kyle. Is Joe in?"

The (pronounced "Tee") Ho was the extremely attractive assistant director of the agency. She was a Vietnamese immigrant, and her intelligence was off the scale. So was her memory and her need to exact revenge on anyone dumb enough to mock her name. It was a mistake Kyle had made only once, and he was lucky he didn't have a permanent limp from the experience.

She was a top-notch agent and Joe's right hand, and she never let anyone forget those two facts.

"Well, well, Mr. Foster," she said in her crisp, flawless English-The could speak somewhere in the neighborhood of fifteen languages fluently-"how nice of you to finally check in. Blown up any busboys lately?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Please, don't beg, it's not becoming of you, Mr. Let-Me-Kidnap-a- Woman-and-Drag-Her-Back-to-My-Cave. Joe is so hot about you right now, you're lucky you're still living. He's on the phone with Wulfgar Zimmerman from Rose Books trying to assure him you haven't hurt Marianne and that she will be returned to him shortly."

"I'm not the one who hurt her. Retter kidnapped her from me this morning."

Silence answered him for a few heartbeats until The started laughing.

"It's not funny, The."

"Sure it is. You're just mad he got away with it. At least he didn't punch you in the nose before he grabbed her. The actor playing Brad Ramsey, in case you're wondering, is fine, but bruised. He also quit his job and was threatening to sue us until I introduced him to Tessa and convinced him that a lawsuit would be extremely hazardous to his health."

Tessa was The's prized Glock 33. Which was only slightly more deadly than The's other lethal weapon, Petey the killer Pomeranian.

"I swear, I'm going to kill Retter for this."

"Uh, no, you won't, hon. He's vital to national security and falls under extreme protection."

Kyle growled into the phone. "Then tell me how to get a hold of Retter and call him down."

"Ooo," she breathed. "I don't think that's possible. See, he was off in Rio having a grand old time on the beach when Joe had to call him in to come get you away from Wulfgar's tourist. You were bad, Kyle, not BAD. So sorry. If you want to talk to Retter, then call him. There's nothing I can do."

She actually hung up the phone.

"Fine," he said loudly, hoping that whatever mic was hidden, it picked up his voice. "You'd better hide, Retter, because tonight I am going to kick your rotten ass all over the beach."

Three hours later Kyle came across the beach, loaded for bear, or in this case, loaded for Retter.

He'd fought beside the bastard enough to know what he needed to beat him. And beat him he was going to do.

For the last three hours Kyle had done total recog on the island. There was only one place where Marianne could be.

One place Retter would deem "secret."

He already had the small cabin in his sights. It sat alone at the base of a small mountain. It was used for supplies that Joe didn't want near the hotel in the event of a fire or something else that might make it explode.

Kyle didn't break stride or hesitate as he headed for it. He was less than three yards from the door of it when he heard a sharp click.

Cursing, he dived away from it an instant before the shack blew apart.

Debris rained all around him.

Kyle couldn't breathe as terror overwhelmed him. Marianne!

"It's not sundown, Kyle."

Kyle saw a two-way radio in the sand a few feet from him. He got up and grabbed it. "Where the hell are you, Retter?" He looked around, scanning everything.

"Look up."

He did and found Retter, Reno, and Dieter standing on the cliff.

Marianne was nowhere in sight. "What kind of game are you playing?"

"Hide-and-seek. If you can find Marianne, I'll let you keep her."

"And if I don't?"

"Your loss. Literally." He saw Retter motion for Reno and Dieter to leave. Once they were out of hearing range, Retter spoke again. "Do you feel her loss, Kyle? Tell me the truth."

Yes, he did. He'd been feeling the emptiness of it since he'd awakened and found himself alone again.

Every minute he'd been away from her, he hurt. The desolation inside him was unlike anything he'd ever known.

He didn't want to live without Marianne.

But Lucifer would freeze solid before he ever admitted that to Retter.

"Go to hell."

"I most likely will, but in the meantime the clock is ticking for you. If you don't find her by nightfall, it's over and you, my friend, are on a plane out of here."

It was all Kyle had wanted. But that was before he'd met Marianne and had learned to have fun without explosives. Fun without someone taking potshots at him.

What would he do without her?

He didn't want to find out. Tossing the radio down, he backtracked through the woods and tried his best to focus on where Retter would have hidden her now.

Marianne sat in the lobby of Kyle's hotel, wrapped in Kyle's jacket.

The scent of his body clung to it, making her want to bury her face in the sleeve and just inhale it until she was drunk from the scent.

Sam sat behind the concierge counter, staring at her. His old basset hound lay beside him on its back with all four of its paws up in the air.

"Are you sure that dog's not dead?"

Sam glanced at him. "Nah, ole Roscoe always sleeps like that."

She nodded, then frowned. Sam was a strange bird. "How long before Kyle gets here?"

"I dunno. Depends on what Retter does to him for taking you."