, her own heart hammering a wild rhythm against her ribs. The scent of him-that

, she opened her own suitcase. Her fingers brushed against the cool silk of her nightgo

The man wasn't just arrogant; he was a

that man me

rms around her legs, looking up at her with wide, worried eyes

king his hair. "Just a rude pe

le floor. Dr. Charles Sterling. She

rmth, it was grave. "I just got the preliminary results from your Europ

urning her back on her son, not wanting him to see the fear that was surely written all o

irm. "The aplastic anemia is accelerating. He needs a transfusion immediately to stabili

te as she gripped the phone.

," Charles said, his words landing like ham

the words echoed in her he

om, Weston was humming to himself, lining up his toy cars in a perfect, orderly row. He was her world, he

houn Richardson ignored the stack o

I want everything on her. Credit history, travel

"Sir, Ms. Webster is waiting for you at the

was lethal. "I

nched. "

ng his eyes. But he couldn't erase the image of her. Th

is files, his laptop. Everything in order. He was about to close it when something caught his eye. Wedged betw

nmistakably her-the woman from the hotel room. The baby in her arms was wrapped in a blue bla

ing. Beside the image, scrawled in elegant handwr

a date was written: approximately five yea

years

htened on th

a nightmare of fragmented images-the suffocating darkness of a hotel room, the weight of a man's body, the taste

emembered

old, and wo

arw

an at her door. The man who was engaged

ad, trying to physically dislodge the thought. She was just

hone and dialed a

rs ago, someone was in that room with me. I don't know who. I don't know how to find him. But I need yo

ide net," the in

voice was cold, hard steel. "

carefully constructed plans for revenge had just been complicate

back to Weston. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you ready.

thing sharp and dangerous. She didn't know what was coming, but sh