made her long for cold winter nights and a bright, blazing fire.
Someday, Mackenzie thought. Someday maybe she’d have a home like this and bright-eyed imps like Jilly and Samantha to wrap her arms and her heart around. And a completely besotted husband like Adam, whose interests did not extend to his neighbor’s wife.
Or to supermodels and movie starlets.
A little crease formed between her brows as her glance went to the tall, broad-shouldered chef working his magic at the cooking island. Nick had shed his tie and jacket, but his deep tan, monogrammed shirt and knife-pleated gray slacks screamed wealth and sophistication. It was hard to picture him burrowing through mud and under concertina wire to take down a gunrunner. Harder still to imagine him giving up his string of pricey restaurants and globe-trotting lifestyle to become a stay-at-home dad, as Adam Ridgeway had done the first few years after Jillian’s birth.
Mackenzie could, on the other hand, easily picture him in the role he seemed so well suited for. If even half the stories in the tabloids were to be believed, Nick Jensen was a world-class lover. Every cover girl and screen goddess he’d been paired with over the years gushed about his seductive charm, his generosity, his solicitous attention. In and out of bed.
Not that she was the least interested in that particular aspect of her boss. Even if she wasn’t still cautious after her divorce, her years in the navy had conditioned her to avoid anything that smacked of fooling around within the ranks. She’d have to be crazy to even think about wrestling the man down to the floor and having her way with him.
Nick looked up at that moment and caught her frown. “Don’t worry, Comm. You’ll like it.”
For a startled moment, she thought he’d read her mind. “Huh?”
“The appetizer,” he said, nodding to a laden silver tray. “This is my own recipe for sherry mushrooms en croûte. You’ll like it.”
“Don’t believe him!”
Maggie rounded the counter. Eight months pregnant and stunning in a floor-length gown of royal blue, she held out a toothpicked appetizer.
“You’ll love it! Here, sink your teeth into this.”
The featherlight pastry melted on Mackenzie’s tongue. If those were mushrooms inside, they sure fooled her. The succulent morsels had a dark, rich flavor she’d never tasted before.
“And to think we’ll be dining tonight on under-cooked prime rib and overcooked broccoli.” Sighing, Maggie speared another pastry and popped it into her mouth.
Nick gave her an amused look. “You should have convinced the awards committee to hold the banquet at my restaurant, as I suggested.”
“Are you kidding? Despite your offer to feed us at cost, not even the International Monetary Fund can afford dinner for three hundred at Nick’s.”
Adam glanced pointedly at his watch. “Speaking of the IMF…”
“I’m coming, I’m coming!”
Snagging another of the flaky tidbits, Maggie chewed, swallowed and rattled off last-minute instructions.
“The girls have had their supper and their baths. They’ll be ready for bed about the time Nick says your dinner will finish cooking. Jilly’s eardrops are on the nightstand beside her bed. One squirt in each ear. Don’t let Samantha have any more apple juice. It goes right through her. If Terence gets loose…”
“God help you,” Adam muttered.
Shooting her husband a quelling look, Maggie grabbed her evening bag. “We both have our cell phones. Call if you need us. Bye, Nick. Bye, Mackenzie. Bye-bye, sugar pies.”
She planted noisy, smacking kisses on the cheek of each girl. Adam waited patiently, then took his turn. A few minutes later, the garage door rumbled up, then down. Before their vehicle had cleared the front drive, a low, mournful howl drifted up from the basement. Another followed, longer and louder than the first. The third rose to an earsplitting crescendo.
“Radizwell doesn’t like it when Mommy and Daddy go off and leave him in the basement,” Jilly informed Nick and Mackenzie between yowls. “He can go all night,” she added with some pride.
“I’d better let him up,” Nick muttered. “Brace yourself.”
Nodding, Mackenzie plunked Samantha on the countertop and took a wide-legged stance. Nick made sure she was ready before he opened the hall door.
Neither one of them could have known it at the time, but by that simple act he saved both their lives.
Chapter 2
The attack didn’t come until almost two hours later.
Looking back, Mackenzie would always marvel at how blissfully unaware she’d been her life was about to take a sharp turn into danger and international intrigue. Nothing in those hours leading up to the murderous assault gave any warning of what was to come.
The time was filled with nothing but noise and laughter. Shrieks of delight as Jilly and Samantha used the family room sofa as a springboard onto Nick’s prone body. Loud grunts when they landed feet first on his midsection. Earsplitting protests from Radizwell, who danced around the threesome wanting in on the fun.
Mackenzie kept a wary eye on lamps, books and silver-framed photographs and generally stayed out of the fray. She did, however, get suckered into playing the part of Bad Bunny when Jilly dragged out a set of plush hand puppets and a folding cardboard stage. With the air of a general marshaling her troops, the pint-size director issued orders to her cast and crew.
“You put the stage together, Uncle Nick. Fold the tabs over like this. See?”
“Got it.”
“’Kenzie, you sit here. Samantha has to sit in your lap ’cause she’s just a baby.”
Her sister’s rosebud mouth puckered at the disparaging remark. “Nuh-uh.”
“Yes, you are. A silly little baby.”
Tears welled. A chubby fist closed over a puppet in the shape of a bear. Before Mackenzie could stop her, Samantha swung.
Screeching, Jilly swung back. Radizwell set the windows to rattling with his bark.
It took a moment or two for Nick and Mackenzie to separate the combatants. They emerged from their brawl with sulky expressions that melted instantly into happy smiles when Nick suggested ice cream after they finished their theatrical production.
Finally—finally!—eight o’clock rolled around. Breathing a heartfelt sigh of relief, Mackenzie rinsed out the ice-cream bowls while Nick carried Samantha upstairs on his shoulders. Jilly raced ahead to select the books she wanted to read before lights out.
A half hour later, the girls were ear-dropped, pot-tied, story-taled and snuggled in. Nick dropped kisses on their cheeks and went downstairs to stir his pots, leaving Mackenzie to deposit their various items of discarded clothing in the hamper.
When she opened the door to the bathroom, though, an ominous hissing sound greeted her. Evidently
