she sighed. It was almost 7:00 a.m. She’d been driving most of the night. She needed a shower. Food. A few hours of sleep. Then she would hit the road again. If all went as planned, by tomorrow she would be in Kansas City. A place where she had no ties. No one had any reason to look for her there. All she had to do was stay alert and be cautious.
Feeling the hard tug of exhaustion, Leigh lay back on the bed, not bothering to take off her clothes or boots. The H&K was within easy reach, and she had a knife in her boot as backup in case she was caught unaware. But she didn’t think anything would happen. No one knew she was here.
But as sleep overtook her, it occurred to her that she’d underestimated Ian Rasmussen once before, and it had cost her more than she ever could have imagined.
LEIGH JOLTED AWAKE. Lying on her side, she remained perfectly still, listening, her heart pounding. The room around her was cold and silent and dimly lit. The clock on the night table told her she’d been asleep just over an hour. What the hell had wakened her?
In the past six years Leigh had learned to trust her instincts. Right now those instincts were telling her something was wrong. She could feel gooseflesh racing along her arms.
The doorknob squeaked. She sat up, her heart hammering like a piston in her chest.
A second later the door flew open and banged against the wall. A man looking to be as large as a mountain in the semidarkness of the room rushed in. She scrambled across the bed, her hand groping for the H&K on the night table. A dozen scenarios rushed through her mind as her hand closed around the grip. No time to think. Aim and fire, just like at the shooting range where she’d practiced so many hours in preparation of this terrible moment.
She brought up the gun, swung the weapon around. An instant later, a strong hand clamped around her wrist. “Drop it,” came a growled command.
But Leigh knew if she let go of the gun she was as good as dead. She screamed when he squeezed her wrist. “No!”
A gunshot exploded. Plaster rained down from the ceiling. She fought for control of the weapon with all her might, but even with all the self-defense classes she’d taken in the past six years she wasn’t prepared for the strength and speed of her attacker.
A final, painful squeeze to her wrist and the gun clattered to the floor. The last of her hope fled as she heard the intruder kick it away.
He’s going to kill me, she thought.
Knowing she had to act quickly if she wanted to live, Leigh used her free hand to reach for the knife in her boot. She’d barely gotten her fingers around the rubber grip when he locked both her wrists in his hands and shoved her back onto the bed. She tried to knee him, but he twisted aside just in time then came down on top of her.
She lashed out with her feet. But he was heavy and strong and overpowered her with ease.
“Calm down, Kelsey. Damn it, it’s me. Jake.”
Everything inside her froze at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice. Leigh stopped struggling, her body suddenly recognizing his on some primal, instinctive level. Every hard angle of his muscular body fit against hers with the perfection of a well-worn glove.
Breathing hard, she stared at him, unable to move, a confusion of emotions descending in a rush.
He glared down at her with dark eyes. His thin nose looked as if it had been broken and never properly set. His chiseled mouth was pulled into a grimace. But she knew from experience that his mouth could be gentle, too. That it could kiss a woman senseless if she wasn’t careful….
“Get off me!” she cried.
His nostrils flared with every labored breath. He was staring at her as if she were a ghost and he couldn’t quite believe he was seeing her. “Just be still,” he said. “Don’t fight me. You know I won’t hurt you.”
But Leigh knew that was the one thing Jake Vanderpol did exceptionally well. Something she would not let him do again. “You have no right to be here. To break into my room—”
“I’m here to save your life,” he cut in. “If you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll let me do it.”
Chapter Two
Jake knew better than to think of how good she felt beneath him. She was a witness desperately needing protection. At least, until Rasmussen was captured or the U.S. Marshals Service could take over. But when it came to Kelsey James, the logic and the good sense he’d always prided himself on never so much as entered the picture: not six years ago when he’d crossed too many lines to count; not now because he had a pretty good idea that he was going to be crossing even more.
Staring into her vivid blue eyes with her body warm and soft against his, he prayed he could keep a handle on things this time.
Not bloody likely.
Feeling his body harden the way it did every time he so much as thought of her, he shifted, then pushed away, rose and offered his hand. Ignoring him, she scrambled across the bed and jumped to her feet.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“I make a living finding people,” he said. “Give me a break.”
Her gaze flicked toward the door, and he realized for the first time how badly he must have frightened her. But he hadn’t had a choice. He’d known that if he’d taken the time to knock, she would have gone straight out the window.
“Do you have any idea how close you came to getting shot?” she asked.
“The day you can get the drop on me is the day I deserve a bullet.” He crossed to the door, looked both ways, then closed it and locked it. “Why didn’t you call your coordinator at the U.S. Marshals Office? Let them relocate you, protect you until that son of a bitch is caught?”
“In case you missed the news, it was a deputy marshal who helped him escape. Someone inside the U.S. Marshals Office gave it up, Jake. How can you expect me to trust them with my life?”
Wishing he could dispute that, he strode to the window, parted the curtains and surveyed the parking lot.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
He turned to her. “I’m going to take you to a safe house.”
“I don’t want to go to a safe house. I sure as hell don’t want to go with you.”
“You don’t stand a chance of surviving on your own. It’s only a matter of time before Rasmussen finds you. We both know what will happen when he does.”
A tremor went through her. “He won’t find me.”
“Don’t bet your life on it. If he can hack into the Witness Security Program database, finding you will be a walk in the park.”
“I know how to disappear. A new name. A new city. I can do it and I don’t need your help.”
Pulling the Glock from the shoulder holster beneath his coat, he checked the clip, then shoved it back into its leather sheath. “You were in the database. He’s got your new name. Your latest address. As far as we know he could have had you under
