"Nice speech."

Carter turned toward his uncles' flat voice. "She did well."

Max rocked back on his heels and watched Eliza over the rim of his cocktail glass. "Convincing. Even to me."

"The truth has the unique ability to carry weight." Carter nodded toward a couple that passed them without interrupting.

Max lifted his drink to his lips and murmured his next words. "It's not enough."

"What isn't enough?"

"Playing the martyr. The past has a way of catching up with you. You should know that, counselor."

"What are you saying?"

Max leaned forward so only Carter could hear him. "People like us don't hope. We make things happen." Max brushed off the edge of Carter's dress coat. "I'll be in touch." Max set his empty glass on a waiter's tray before walking away.

An uncomfortable ball of lead threatened to settle deep in Carter's stomach. Why did he feel his uncle's words were more threat than a legitimate call to action?

Probably because they were. Carter knew that asking favors from his uncle would haunt him. Carter couldn't bring himself to stop Max from whatever he planned. Keeping Eliza safe was paramount. Nothing else mattered.

Their return trip from the dinner sped by. Eliza spoke of the actors she'd met, the producers. She didn't mention the unveiling of her darkest secret to the world. It wouldn't be long before the media dug and found the name of the man responsible. Carter knew this...and as he watched her nibble on a fingernail, he knew she thought about it too.

She worried.

Instead of addressing the problem, Carter kept the conversation light.

Still, when they drove up to the front doors of their home, he peered into the darkness listening to the sounds of the night for anything out of place. All he heard were crickets and the rustling of leaves in the trees above their heads.

One of the bodyguards had preceded their arrival and made certain no one lurked inside. When Carter waved the armed guard away, he captured Eliza's hand in his and kissed her battered nails.

She sent him a bashful smile. One he didn't see often. "We're going to be okay," he promised.

She opened her eyes wider, and he saw the mist gathering behind her lashes. "I-I'm scared, Carter."

Her admission slammed into his soul. Carter took her face in his hands and did what he could to drive away her fears. He lowered his lips to hers and willed her to forget her fears with his kiss. He stifled her whimper by deepening their kiss. The tip of his tongue coaxed hers open, to allow him inside.

She opened and melted against him in the same instant. Her timid hands flattened on his chest and burned a path straight to his heart. He moaned, or maybe it was her, and he wove his fingers alongside her neck and laced them into her soft tresses. Pins scattered onto the floor of the foyer. The length of her body meshed with his from lips to toes.

The tip of her tongue teased his until he kissed her with indecent kisses. Eliza sucked in a desperate breath and released a nervous laugh. Carter smiled as he kept her lips occupied. He'd managed to make her forget.

He bent down and swung her into his arms.

She chuckled low in her throat and nuzzled his neck as he carried her to their bedroom. "You don't have to carry me," she told him.

"Having to, doesn't play into my thoughts."

She used the hand she wasn't using to keep from falling to loosen the tie around his neck and unbutton his dress shirt. "You smell so good. Spicy, masculine...desirable."

His already aroused state burned with need from her words. Carter kicked their bedroom door closed behind them. "What does desirable smell like?"

Eliza slid alongside him until her feet touched the ground. She slowly removed his tie and tossed it to the floor. "Mmm. Sexy. I think I understand what pheromones are now."

"Pheromones? As in what animals emit when they're ready to mate?"

Her dark eyes rounded with passion as her fingers loosened every button on his shirt. The cooler air of the room did nothing to ease the fire burning in his veins. "Exactly. I've heard that females have a unique scent, but I think it's men who draw women in." She ran her hand down his arms and fiddled with his cuff links until they also fell to the floor.

"All men?"

Soft lips pressed against his chest. She pushed his shirt from his shoulders and held him captive with her words. He might have been the one who started this seduction, to make her forget, but he was being thoroughly seduced. "I've never smelled a man's need like I do yours."

Her tiny tongue shot out and tasted his nipple.

He shivered. "Be careful, Lisa...my ego is growing."

She giggled and lifted her eyes to his while her hand slid below the waist of his pants. She cupped him fully. "That's not the only thing growing."

He pounced, dragging her lips to his while spinning her back to the door. The taste of her, his need for her, surged into him like an arc of fire shooting from a comet. If she sensed his desire before, she must be suffocating with it now. He pressed his arousal against the soft folds of her skin through their clothes. With the door at her back, she arched toward him, increasing the contact and his need.

The slender span of her waist filled his palm then he tried to touch her everywhere at once. They kissed until they both needed air. Only when she was panting hard did he move his mouth to her neck, her shoulder. He clawed at the length of her dress until he touched the tantalizing hot skin at her hip. When his fingers came in contact with a strap he opened his eyes wide. He followed the elastic strap with his fingertips. Eliza watched his reaction with a hooded gaze.

"Lingerie?"

She caught her lower lip between her teeth and rested her head against the door.

The image of her wrapped in straps and silk undid him. Unable to control himself, he spun Eliza until her breasts pushed against the door and he found the long zipper of her dress. He eased it down by slow degrees. He kissed her neck and the hidden space between her shoulder blades. As the gown slid to the floor, his chin dropped.

Tiny scraps of ivory lace covered only the most intimate places on her perfect body. Stockings made their way mid-thigh, held up with dainty clasps. Carter ran his hand down her spine. Eliza struggled to breathe and watched him over her shoulder.

He could keep her dressed in lingerie every day and never get used to this view. "Lovely," he whispered.

"Can I turn around?"

He held her in place. "Not yet...I'm not done."

Gooseflesh rose on her exposed skin. He liked how his words made her squirm. He traced his hand down her spine and kissed her in its wake. She tasted like spring, fresh and inviting. He fed from her like a starving man. When her hips lifted as his tongue traced the sensitive flesh under her lace panties, he smiled. He knelt behind her and molded his hands down her shapely thighs. Even the silk of her stockings felt like sin. He nibbled at her hips and lowered the fabric of her panties without disturbing the garter holding up her stockings. He helped her lift one foot at a time and tossed the garment aside.

"You're killing me, Carter."

He touched the soft globes of her bare bottom and between her thighs. She was molten and pliant to his touch. He sought her most delicate places and when her breath hitched, he dropped his forehead to the small of her back.

"Please," she begged.

Twisting her around, he licked and kissed his way to her core. When there, her knees buckled as he drank his fill. She squirmed against him and mumbled equal desires for him to stop and to continue. Her hands held him closer and kneaded his flesh, leaving indents with her nails. Her breath hitched and then he pulled away.

"You'll pay for this," she promised.

He couldn't wait.

He released her from the door and backed her to the bed. She crawled into the center with stockings and heels still intact. Damn she was sexy. The pins in her hair scattered. Her hair tumbled, cascading loose, and draped over her shoulders. After kicking off his shoes and hastily removing his clothes, he joined her on the bed and pulled them both to the middle of the mattress. Her high heel scraped the back of his thigh. His erection throbbed.

When the lace of her bra soon became too much of a hindrance, he removed it for better access and tasted one pert nipple before turning to the other.

Soft hands clawed at his back and pulled him closer. The heat of her sex beckoned, and Eliza enticed him with her scent. Slim fingers wrapped around him, stroking him and destroying any ability to think.

When had he ever wanted a woman this much? Had he ever? With Eliza, it was more than want. More than sexual need. She nudged him between her thighs and opened for him to take.

As he seated himself and sheathed his body within hers, his heart opened wide.

"Oh, Carter." She tilted her hips toward his and he moved within her. Each stroke, every quiver, brought him close to spilling inside her. As he took her, claimed her in the most primal of ways, he knew his heart was lost. She owned every ounce of it.

Their movements increased, he drove into her hard but kissed her with all the tenderness he could manage. When she broke away and her slick channel clutched him tight with her release, he allowed himself to join her.

They caught their collective breath together. Their damp skin mingled and scented the sheets with a unique, pleasant aroma. "I could stay like this, with you, forever," he admitted against the side of her neck.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and tightened her womb. "It's the shoes isn't it? I've never made love with my shoes on before."

"That's not it."

"The garter belt? I thought you'd like it...but I thought it would eventually make its way to the floor."

"It's not your sexy lingerie. But I do like it."

"Then it must be my sunny disposition," she teased.

Carter removed some of his weight from her frame and gazed into her big brown eyes. "It's you. Your courage, your strength...your ability to make me boil from the inside. I'm lying here and wondering why it took us so long to connect."

She intently watched him, her eyes unwavering. "Because you battled with me about everything, from football teams to the temperature of tea. That's why."

He laughed then, remembering some of their earlier arguments. "Sexual tension."

Her eyes narrowed. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." He moved to her side but gathered her close. "I remember when we first met. Samantha and Blake had just married, and we were both invited to their reception in Europe. I think you flirted with every man there."

"I did?"

"Except me. You avoided me like the black plague. I knew then..."

"You knew what?"

He kissed her nose, sensing she was reading something inappropriate into his words. "I knew we'd match. No two people could repel that much and not be so very good together."

Her smile fell. "You're full of shit. You hated me back then."

"Hate? I never hated anything about you. You sparked my curiosity, made me want... But hate was never an adjective to describe my feelings toward you."

"Then why did you argue with everything I said?"

He played with her hip and pulled the covers over them. "You should see the spark in your eyes when someone gets under your skin. The passion when you know you're right and someone begs to differ. You, my little fireball, are fresh air on a stale day. I fear for anyone who truly stands in the way of you getting what you want."

Eliza lifted her knee high on his hip. "Are you telling me you argued with me just to get a rise out of me?"

He cocked his head to the side and remained silent.

She let loose a playful fist on his chest. "You're awful."

"C'mon. You can't say you didn't enjoy it."

"I didn't."

"Liar."

She attempted to keep a straight face and failed. Her lips slid into an infectious grin as she giggled.

"Who's the liar now?"

"I'll take it to the grave," she told him.

And as quick as her words, his mind shot to a vision of her still and lifeless. He sat motionless and knew his grin faded. She noticed his unease but didn't call attention to it. Instead, she burrowed her head into his chest.

"We did the right thing tonight... Right?" she finally asked.

He brushed the back of her hair with his hand. God, he hoped so. "We did."

Yet, as she slipped into slumber and he lay awake, he wasn't so sure.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Eliza languished around the house for two full days following the Hollywood dinner. The news of her past didn't stop with the local broadcasts. It went national. Eliza's cell phone rang continuously with offers for exclusive interviews-all of which she ignored.

The magnitude of what she'd done, by telling the world, drove home when Jay arrived early Tuesday morning with an armful of mail. "This is for you," he said as he dropped dozens of letters on the kitchen counter.

"For me?" She eyed the mail with a frown.

Jay's magnetic smile lit his face. "The sympathetic public has a big soft spot for you and your plight. The mail started arriving at the local campaign office, and I'm told there is more at the headquarters in Sacramento and San Francisco."

Eliza picked an envelope at random and tore it open. Inside was a handwritten letter from a woman who lived in the desert community of Lancaster. She applauded Eliza's courage to come forward and then went on to ask if there was a way she could get in touch with her son who also entered the witness protection program years ago. Not knowing if he was dead or alive killed a small piece of her spirit. Anything Eliza could do to help would be appreciated.

"What does it say?" Carter scooted closer and read the mail over her shoulder. "Oh, wow."

"Yeah."