given her little time for that option and he had looked deadly serious when he'd told her that her very life was in danger.
Seeing the gun tucked beneath Bernard's jacket had seemed to illustrate that warning quite clearly.
Still, was she any safer now, flying toward who knew where for who knew what purpose?
Daniel spoke to her occasionally, using a lovingly solicitous tone that made her back teeth set. She had to make a real effort to respond in kind, but apparently her acting skills were better than she had thought, since Bernard didn't seem to notice anything unusual between them. Maybe because Daniel mentioned several times her supposed fear of flying and commented about how brave she was being, even though he knew she must be anxious.
She hadn't been afraid of flying, but this nightmare trip could definitely leave permanent trauma, she decided.
When they finally landed, it was on another private airstrip. From what B.J. could guess from peering out the window, this strip was a part of a luxurious ocean-side resort. She had seen swimming pools and cabanas, sprawling buildings and cozy cabins. Private beaches. Two golf courses.
Florida? South Carolina? She really had no clue.
Maybe the place would have looked more beautiful to her had she been arriving for a voluntary stay. As it was, the only thought on her mind was wondering how soon she could leave.
“See, Mrs. Andreas?” Bernard asked jovially. “Back on the ground, safe and sound.”
She would have liked very much to smack him right in the middle of his condescending smile. Instead she merely nodded.
Once again Daniel spoke for her. “My wife is exhausted from so much traveling today. I hope we can be shown to our suite quickly so she can get some rest.”
B.J. hoped that suite had a back door she could dash out of as soon as no one was looking. At the very least, she would be on the phone at the first opportunity telling her uncles to get busy rescuing her. Well, she would make that call as soon as she figured out where she was.
Bernard ushered them off the plane. A man stepped forward immediately to greet them. In marked contrast to the beefy and belligerent-looking Bernard, this man was handsome, slender and suave. Yet something about his smile made B.J.'s blood run cold.
His heavily moussed hair was sun-streaked blond, and his eyes were a glittering green. He had a perfect profile, a perfect tan, perfect teeth and a perfect physique. She would have bet hard-earned cash that none of those attributes had been bestowed upon him by nature.
As her cowboy uncle Jared would say, this fellow was so slick she could have slid him through a keyhole.
“Daniel,” he said, shaking Daniel's hand. “It's good to see you again. And this—” he turned to B.J. “—must be your lovely wife.”
His voice practically coated with pride, Daniel replied, “Yes, this is B.J. Darling, I'd like you to meet Judson Drake, the man I've told you so much about.”
Judson Drake. If that was his real name, she would eat her shoe.
She nearly flinched when Drake took her hand, holding it more snugly than necessary. “It's my pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Andreas.”
“Mr. Drake,” she murmured. As much as it unnerved her to be called Mrs. Andreas, she didn't encourage him to use her nickname.
“Bernard tells me that you've had a difficult time. I understand that your luggage has been misplaced.”
He was still holding her hand. B.J. gave a slight tug, freeing it, before she replied, “Yes. I suggested that I should stay behind…”
“Nonsense.” He waved a hand dismissively. “We have everything you could need in our shops here. I'll make arrangements for you to select whatever you like. Just give the shopkeepers your name, and anything you need is yours.”
“That's very generous of you, but I can provide for my wife's needs,” Daniel said with a hint of bruised pride. “If you'll make arrangements for her to charge her purchases to our suite, that will be sufficient.”
Drake eyed Daniel with a speculation B.J. couldn't quite analyze. “Consider it done. I'm sure you're both tired and hungry. Perhaps you would like to take advantage of some of my resort's amenities for the remainder of the day. We can talk business tomorrow, Daniel.”
Daniel seemed to give the suggestion some thought, and then he inclined his head. “Thank you. For my wife's sake, I think that would be best.”
If he said “my wife” in that smugly possessive tone one more time, B.J. was going to kick him. Hard. And she didn't care who was watching.
“Let me escort you to your suite. Bernard will see that your bags are delivered to you, Daniel.”
Tucking her canvas tote bag beneath her arm—and thinking wistfully of the cell phone tucked inside it—B.J. allowed herself to be led to the main lodge of the resort. They passed other people, mostly wealthy-looking and highly maintained couples, but other than smiling genially, Drake did not allow himself to be detained.
He led them through an exquisitely decorated lobby, merely nodding to the young woman behind the reception desk. He kept up a congenial-host monologue during a brief elevator ride, listing some of the resort's many attractions.
Drake stood much closer to B.J. than she thought necessary; the elevator car was not so small that it required that proximity. When he escorted them into a luxurious suite, his hand rested casually at the small of her back, just above the very slight curve of her hip.
Drake was so vainly assured of his appeal to women that he seemed to expect her to fall at his feet—even with her “husband” standing right next to them. She wondered how he would react if she informed him that his touch made her want to scrub her skin with bleach.
Telling them he was leaving them to relax, he made a swift exit, pausing only long enough to remind Daniel that they would schedule a meeting for the next morning.
The moment the door closed behind him, B.J. whirled to face Daniel. “If that man touches me one more time, I'm going to punch his capped teeth in.”
Daniel gave her what could only be described as a wryly warning look before saying, “I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, darling. He's just the friendly sort.”
She watched in disbelief as he pulled a small electronic device from an inside pocket of his jacket and began to walk around the room with it. Having spent the past eighteen months working for her uncles, she figured out immediately what he was doing. Did he really think the rooms were bugged with listening devices?
Just what had she stumbled into here? What exactly had Daniel gotten involved with since he had left the Walker ranch foster home for at-risk teenage boys?
Chapter Two
Daniel motioned for B.J. to keep talking. She figured if Drake was eavesdropping on her, she was going to make it count. “He creeps me out. Obviously thinks he's God's gift to women—but the joke's on him. He's a slug.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. Still speaking in a soothing, placating tone, he said, “Now, sweetheart, you're just tired. It has been a stressful
