Before she could protest, he bent his head and settled his mouth very softly over hers. It was supposed to be a sweet, romantic good-night kiss and for a few brief moments it was. He tasted a little like chocolate and champagne and his lips were softer than they appeared and seemed to fit perfectly with hers.

She meant to pull away, to end the moment on a casually romantic note, but instead her lips parted under his, allowing him entrance, and his tongue swept in. A rush of heat slammed into her, then raced out through her limbs. Ben drew her into his arms and before she knew it she was clinging to his neck, kissing him back with the same urgency he was kissing her.

Her legs turned to jelly. Her body felt as limp as overcooked spaghetti and her lips trembled at the pleasure of his skillful mouth and tongue. He seemed to drink her in, to savor the taste of her. He nibbled the corners of her mouth, kissed her one way and then another, then kissed her deeply again.

She was trembling, her nipples aching, her body on fire for him. Her traitorous hands slid inside his shirt and she felt the intriguing texture of muscle over bone. It was the touch of hot bare skin that returned her to sanity.

Autumn jerked away as if she'd been burned, retreated quickly to the safety of her bedroom and firmly closed the door. Leaning back against the wall, she realized her heart was racing as if she had run a thousand miles and her legs were shaking, barely holding her up.

Good Lord, she had never been kissed that way, not by Steve Elliot or that weasel Ronnie Hillson or any other man. No wonder women fell at Ben's feet. Dear G.o.d, if he was this good at kissing what would he be like in bed?

Her eyes widened in horror at the thought. She refused to think of Ben in any sort of physical sense. With his reputation as a philanderer and her history of unwise choices where men were concerned, just kissing him was tantamount to a disaster. Autumn took a deep breath and worked to close her mind to any more thoughts of Ben and especially those that might wander in the direction of the bedroom.

On the opposite side of the wall, she could hear him in the living room, fiddling with his blanket and pillow. She knew he wouldn't sleep in his expensive tuxedo pants. She tried not to wonder whether he wore boxers or briefs.

Blowing out a breath, she came away from the wall, twisted her body around enough to unfasten the zipper on her sequined dress and stepped out of it. She took off her lacy black underwear and thigh-high black stockings and put on an oversize T-shirt that read CLIMBERS LIKE GETTING HIGH.

She preferred her pink shortie nightgown, but knowing that Ben McKenzie-the best kisser on the planet-was sleeping on the other side of the wall, she chose the T-shirt instead.

"Don't forget to leave your door open," Ben called from the living room.

Autumn walked over and jerked it open, ready to argue, grateful to discover the light was no longer turned on.

"If you start to dream, I'll be able to hear you," he explained, his deep voice drifting up from the sofa. "You might say something important."

He was right, of course. That was the reason he was there.

"Okay...all right, I'll leave it open." Leaving the door ajar, she finished her bathroom routine then went over to the bed, pulled back the covers and stretched out beneath the sheets. It took a while, but it was getting late and as tired as she was, she finally fell asleep.

Ben was sleeping in fits and starts. It had taken him an hour after that blazing kiss to bring his body under enough control enough to fall asleep. d.a.m.n, he hadn't expected the powerful jolt of desire that had swept through him the minute his mouth touched hers. Those ripe, sweet lips and a body that seemed to melt in his arms. She was incredibly responsive and it turned him on like crazy. There was something about Autumn Sommers that reached him in a way no woman had for a very long time.

As he lay awake for the second time that night, he found the thought disturbing. He liked his life the way it was. No entanglements, no emotional involvements. The risk just wasn't worth it. He knew the pain of losing someone you loved and he wasn't about to chance that kind of pain again.

Still, he had to admit the lady had captured his interest. Her mix of outside toughness and inside softness was intriguing. During the course of the evening, they had talked about hiking and camping and their shared love of the outdoors. He had mentioned his love of kayaking, and she said she had always wanted to try the sport.

She was in incredible physical condition, a true athlete, and according to Pete Rossi's report, one of the best climbers in Washington State.

And yet as he lay there looking at the dainty Victorian furnishings in her living room, as he caught the lingering scent of her soft perfume and thought how s.e.xy she looked in an evening gown, there was no mistaking that this was a very feminine woman.

Intriguing. That was the word for Autumn Sommers.

To his perfectly ordered world, maybe even dangerous.

Ben sighed into the darkness. Currently, he was mostly in danger of not getting back to sleep. Though tomorrow was Sunday, he had work to do at the office in the morning and it was his day to pick up Katie. He plumped his pillow and tried to clear his head so that he could get some rest. He had just closed his eyes when he heard the m.u.f.fled sound of Autumn's voice floating toward him from the other room.

Shooting up off the sofa, he raced through the open bedroom door. Autumn appeared to be sound asleep so he knelt quietly beside the bed. She seemed to be dreaming, her head tossing back and forth on the pillow, her lips moving, mumbling whispered words. He studied her a moment, making certain she was actually asleep and not pretending, a.s.suring himself this wasn't some sort of ploy.

If she was faking, she was d.a.m.ned good. She whispered something else and he moved close enough to hear, heard her say, "No...not...Ruthie...Molly..."

He had no idea what she was talking about. Picking up the pad and paper she had put beside the bed, he wrote down the words but didn't wake her. Not yet. Not until she began to drift into a deeper sleep did he reach out to touch her. In the same instant, she opened her eyes and jolted upright in the bed.

"It's all right," Ben said gently. "You were just dreaming. Do you remember?"

She blinked several times, trying to get her bearings, then slowly nodded.

"Tell me what you recall."

Her hand trembled as she pushed back her thick dark hair, shoving the heavy curls away from her face. "They were there in the kitchen...Molly and the other two women."

"What were they doing?" he gently prodded.

"The older woman was scolding Molly for something she had done but I don't know what it was."

"What else?"

"The older woman said something like, He'll be home any minute. We need to have everything ready. He doesn't like to be kept waiting.'"

"Go on. What else did you see?"

"I saw the mountains through the window, just like before...the simple kitchen with the light hanging down over the long wooden table." She closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating, trying to remember, then shook her head. "That's it. That's all I can recall."

"What about Ruthie?"

She glanced up at him. "Ruthie?"

"It was a name you said before you woke up. You said, Not Ruthie...Molly.'"

Her eyebrows drew together in concentration. "Not Ruthie...?" She looked up. "Yes...now I remember. The older woman called her Ruthie, but it was Molly I saw. I don't know why she called her that."

Ben started to frown. "Maybe you have the wrong girl. Maybe you're dreaming about someone else."

Autumn caught his arm. "It's her, Ben, I know it."

"Then why did they call her Ruthie?"

She took a breath and he could almost see the wheels turning in her head. "I need a drink of water. Would you hand me my robe?"

He reached out and caught a handful of quilted pink satin trimmed with lace, dragged it off the foot of the bed and handed it to her.

A corner of his mouth edged up as she slipped the frilly garment over a man-sized T-shirt with CLIMBERS LIKE TO GET HIGH printed on the front.

Intriguing.

She moved past him into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and took out a chilled bottle of water. She cranked off the lid and took several long swallows, then returned her attention to him.

"Maybe whoever took Molly didn't know her name so he just made one up."

"She would have told him her name," Ben said.

"Then maybe he didn't like the way it sounded or he figured someone might recognize the name so he changed it."

Ben mulled that over. "That's possible. He would have changed her name if he was afraid someone might see something about Molly on the news or read her name in the papers."

Autumn's fingers tightened around the plastic water bottle. "Dammit, I wish I could remember more or that the dream would go further."

"In time, maybe it will."

She looked up at him. "You were right to stay. I wouldn't have remembered the part about Ruthie. At least not tonight." She held out the bottle. "You want a drink?"

He took it from her hand and drank several big swallows. He caught a taste of her on the bottle. Memories of their kiss returned and his body began to stir. He handed back the water and pulled himself under control. "Thanks."

Autumn's gaze ran over his naked chest, moved lower and her cat-eyes rounded. "Boxers."

He couldn't help a grin. "Nice fitted ones, though. Not those big, baggy-legged kind. You thought I looked like a briefs man?"

She blushed. Even in the thin stream of light coming in through the balcony doors in the living room, he could see the slight rose in her cheeks.

"Actually, I never gave it any thought, one way or another."

"Too bad. I was hoping you had."

She flicked him a sideways glance, then turned away. "I've never dreamed more than once in a night, so you can go home if you want or you can stay until morning."

"I'll stay. I'm not much on wrestling the b.u.ms on the street this time of night."

She nodded as if that were a wise decision.

"Will you be able to go back to sleep?" he asked.

"It's never easy."

He reached out and ran a finger along her cheek. "I could help with the problem," he couldn't resist saying, letting his guard down a moment since he knew she would refuse.

Autumn backed away. "On second thought, maybe it's better if you wrestle the b.u.ms."

Ben just smiled. "Try to get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

"Are...we going to start looking?"

His smile slid away. "Yes."

"We're going to find her, Ben."

He didn't answer. The possibility was too painfully remote. But he had made up his mind and from this moment forward he was committed to the search.

Ben lay down on the sofa, but he didn't fall asleep.

It was odd having a man in the house for breakfast. Even when Josh had stayed over, Autumn hadn't cooked. They had always gone out to eat instead. For reasons she refused to examine, she felt like cooking this morning.

While Ben was in the shower, Autumn poured two gla.s.ses of orange juice, cooked bacon in the microwave, toasted a couple of English m.u.f.fins, and scrambled some Egg Beaters with onions and tomatoes.

The table was set when he walked into the kitchen wearing the same tuxedo pants he had worn the night before, bare-chested, towel-drying his thick dark hair.

"Something sure smells good."

She tried not to stare but it wasn't that easy. The man had a beautiful V-shaped body that was all lean sinew and powerful muscle in just the right proportions. Of course she saw jocks with far bigger muscles in the gym all the time, but somehow it wasn't the same.

"I hope you like bacon and eggs," she said to him as he dragged on his wrinkled white shirt. "Well...bacon and Egg Beaters at any rate. My dad has high cholesterol. He got me started cooking egg subst.i.tutes, since they're better for him than eggs and they're also lower in calories."

"I'm not picky, especially when I'm starving." He hadn't bothered with his cufflinks and studs and the shirt hung open as he moved toward the table. "Anything I can do to help?"

"It's almost ready. Go ahead and sit down."

Ben rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing those terrific forearms and sat down in one of the chairs at the small dining table in the living room. "It was nice of you to make breakfast. I can't remember the last time I've had someone cook for me."

She focused her attention on stirring the eggs. "Didn't your wife like to cook?"

He scoffed. "Jo hated anything to do with the kitchen. She didn't like to clean up the mess...or at least that's what she said. We ate out a lot, which was harder after the girls were born."

His expression closed up as he said this last and she knew he wouldn't say more.

"I enjoy cooking," Autumn said pleasantly. "What I make is pretty basic, stuff my dad taught me. I eat at home more often than I go out."

"I guess your dad mostly raised you."

She turned the burner off and reached for a plate. "My mom died when I was thirteen. She was killed in a car accident. Drunk driver swerved onto her side of the road. I guess you probably know that."

He didn't confirm or deny it. "Must have been hard on you."

The loss of her mother was painful to discuss but she needed him to have faith in her and to do that, she had to be forthright, no matter how difficult the subject.

"Her death nearly destroyed me. I was always a little bit shy. After that, I withdrew almost completely. My dad decided I need something to take my mind off losing my mother so he started to take me climbing. He has high blood pressure now, so climbing's out but we still go hiking once in a while and he exercises regularly to keep himself healthy."

Ben made no comment. He was looking at her in that way she had noticed lately, as if he were trying to figure her out. She set the plates on the table, filled their coffee mugs and sat down in the chair across from him.

"Actually, I'm glad you're here this morning." She took a sip of orange juice. "Now that we're ready to get started, we need some sort of plan."

"A plan," he repeated.

"I've been trying to think where to begin our search; what sorts of things we might do to get things rolling. To start with, I was hoping you'd have a photo of Molly you could lend me. I mean, I have copies of the ones that were printed in the newspapers but I need a real picture, not a copy."

"I've got a couple at home. I'll have to figure out exactly where I put them, but I know they're there someplace."

She paused in the midst of crunching into a strip of bacon. He had put away the photos, as if seeing them was too painful.

"What?" Ben asked, apparently not liking the way she was looking at him. "I said I'd get the picture and I will."

"Great." She bit down on the bacon, crunched a couple of times.