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He winced. "I didn't handle it well. I'm sorry."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "What made you suddenly decide I'm innocent?"

"It's tangled."

"Untangle it fast, pal. I want answers."

Nodding, he started, "When you asked me to be your accountant and threw Blade out of the chair, but the accounting anomalies continued, I wondered if you were the mastermind of the operation and simply trying to cut him out. It seemed even more likely after the gas leak, which I believed was an accident at the time. No money transfers occurred while you were in the hospital or down in the bed. At that point, I couldn't see how anyone else could be responsible."

Shocked didn't begin to describe how Nicki felt. She couldn't breathe. Thoughts raced, yet she could hardly grasp anything beyond the pain, the renewing sense of betrayal. She'd loved him. Heaven help her, she still did. And he didn't know her at all. She'd been nothing to him but a case.

"You think I have enough of a criminal mind to launder money for some big don in the Mafia all on my own? You think I'm that devious and immoral?"

"Nicki, I didn't know what to think."

"That didn't stop you from taking me to bed every chance you had."

Mark gritted this teeth. "You're right. I wanted you, and I wasn't good at resisting. That's my fault. But Nicki, my thinking you were guilty changed tonight. When the intruder tonight told me he'd been hired to kill you, things snapped into place. About a year ago, Blade told the person who framed me for embezzlement that he'd have control of this money pipeline by this summer. If you're not involved, baby, he'd have to get you out of his way to do that. All your "accidents" started to look more suspicious. Why would Blade kill you if he was innocent?"

"Maybe I cut him out and he wanted revenge?" she challenged.

"Maybe." He shrugged. "But the meth freak said that Blade told him he'd been trying to kill you for a while. I realized that a guy with Blade's reputation would have just finished you off if he was pissed. He didn't get a name like Blade because his mama had a knife fetish. All those accidents didn't seem like the work of someone angry. It seemed like the work of someone calculating. Someone with a master plan. A criminal trying to get a roadblock out of the way."

Mark's answer made sense as much as it flayed her feelings into raw strips of sensation.

"But it never occurred to you that I might be innocent because I wasn't the criminal kind of woman?"

He frowned, his face a seeming snarl of confusion and regret. "I ... I didn't want to believe it. At times it seemed unreal, not like something you would do. But the facts were against you." He sighed. "To be honest, this was more about me. I've picked some awful women in the past. The worst. The baddest, raciest, and most audacious."

"And you thought I fit right in with that crowd. You know what? You've done nothing but deceive and use me since the day you walked in my door--"

"That's not true. I was as honest as I could be. My name really is Mark, although my last name is Sullivan, not Gabriel. I did work at a bank in Florida. I really was framed for embezzlement. I do have a sister named Kerry, a brother-in-law named Rafe--"

"Tiffany?"

He nodded. "An ex-wife named Tiffany. All true."

"And every time you touched me, it meant absolutely nothing. I was the means to an investigation."

Mark leaned close--disconcertingly close. He placed his palms on the mattress on either side of her thighs. Nicki was forced to lean back onto her elbows or endure his dangerous touch.

"Do you really believe that?" He grabbed her wrist and placed it over an erection like steel. "Do you?"

Nicki swallowed. A few feet away, with tension swirling between them, Mark had been a major distraction. With his cock under her palm, those mesmerizing eyes looking so green and challenging and staring right at her, while his lips hovered mere inches above hers ... she wouldn't have a prayer in hell if she didn't do something quick.

"I need to use the bathroom," she lied.

Immediately, he backed away.

Nicki stood and walked past him, heading toward the room's lone toilet.

Before she could make a clean escape, Mark grabbed her arm and drew her close. His spice and body heat assailed her. Nicki had to fight the urge to sway against him.

"I swear," he murmured, "Despite everything, I couldn't treat you like just a suspect. There's something about you that... it just won't let me go."

She swallowed. Nodded. Breathed in his earthy pine scent, went weak at the knees, and prayed for the strength to resist the sensual promise lurked in his eyes. "Thank you for that. Excuse me."

Mark hesitated, then lifted his hand, curling it around her neck. She saw him looming above her, coming closer, closer.
Turn your head! Push him away!
For the life of her, she couldn't do either.

Nicki knew she'd never have another opportunity to kiss him good-bye.

So she lifted her face to him in offering. Her eyes slid shut as he filtered his fingers through her hair. Mark surrounded her then, chest to breast, the gentle slant of his mouth settling over hers. He tested her response, caressing, silently imploring. Nicki sighed against his lips and opened to him.

Mark eased his way inside, groaning. He didn't force or barge; he had no need to. Instead, he slid in with a soft touch, stroking the inside of her mouth in lingering sweeps that made her dizzy. Made her ache--with desire, yes. But even more with pain. His potent kiss evoked poignant longing, like she was saying good-bye to summer before a long, frigid winter.

Like she was bidding farewell to the only man she'd ever love.

At that thought, tears stung the back of her eyes. Nicki broke off the kiss and covered her swollen mouth with her hand. She lifted her gaze to his. It was a mistake. Regret, care, need, frustration all churned in the brown-flecked depths of his greenish eyes. And he looked half a heartbeat away from grabbing her and taking her mouth again.

Maybe he did care for her ... in his way. But there was too much water under too many bridges. He'd betrayed her for a job, taken her to his bed to further an investigation--and wouldn't let his scarred heart care too much ever again.

It was over. Nicki had known it earlier, but the kiss only brought it home inexorably. They were done.

Better to end it now, go make sure the police had taken the intruder from her house, find Lucia, and tell her about Blade's evil plans, then get them both to safety while she tried to think of a way to extricate her uncle's henchman from her business.

Nicki edged away from Mark and picked up the sack from the gift shop. She all but ran to the bathroom. She had a little of Mark's leftover money in that bag. If lady luck was smiling on her, the bathroom would have a window and the building would have a way down to the street.

Clutching the little paper sack, she entered and flipped on the light, shutting and locking the door behind her. Then she gazed out the little square window and smiled at the fire escape.

Jackpot!

S
himmying out the window and climbing down the fire escape proved as easy as finding a half dozen pairs of darling shoes at Sak's. Finding a taxi in the drive-through chapel part of town after midnight ... downright frightening.

Swiping angry tears from her face, Nicki managed to look tough in a white dress with bare feet while marching toward a busy street to track down a taxi. At least she guessed she did since she didn't get mugged.

When she'd finally accomplished the first part of her mission, Mark's leftover money from the gift shop extravaganza convinced the cab driver to take her to the club. It took every dime in her possession to satisfy what she owed. He scowled at the lousy tip, and Nicki regretted that she didn't have any more to give him, but her purse was in her car back at the motel.

After watching the taxi's taillights fade in the distance, Nicki turned and stared at the dark club. She wanted to just go in and see if her sister had returned from painting the town red. But was that the best plan? The police, if they had come at all, were gone now. Any chance the intruder was still there? If Blade really was out to kill her, was he just waiting for her to come back? She'd never particularly liked him, but murder?

A speeding car roared through the parking lot behind her.

Not just any car--Blade's black Lexus convertible.

Oh, shit!
She started to run, but a totally unexpected voice stopped her.

"Nicki, there you are!" Zack shouted. "We've been worried! Where did you go?"

Frowning, she took in his mussed hair and pale face. "With Mark. What's going on?"

"No time to talk. Get in! I'll explain on the way."

"The way to where? And why are you in Blade's car."

"It's faster. Watch out!" Zack pointed to something behind her.

Blade exited the building and began stalking his way through the parking lot, his heavy stare locked on her. "Nicki, stay where you are!"

She blinked, watching in horror as Blade's furious face thundered closer, closer. Her heart thudded, threatening to break free of the blood and bone that trapped it inside. She'd always known she was going to die someday, but she didn't picture it happening before she turned thirty, damn it.

"Get in!" Zack yelled.

When Blade reached into his jacket, pulled out his shiny gun and pointed it in their direction, Nicki gasped and ran. She didn't have time to scream, and she wasn't going to argue. Instead, she scrambled around to the side of the car and hopped in the passenger's seat.

"No!"
Blade roared in the otherwise empty lot. "Come back here!"

Then he fired his gun. If Zack hadn't peeled out and turned the car toward the road at that moment, the bullet would likely have planted itself in his temple.

Breath rasping in and out of her chest, Nicki trembled as Zack approached the edge of the lot. "Holy cow! I can't believe he nearly shot you. What is going on?"

Barreling from the other direction, her Crossfire suddenly charged into the parking lot. Damn, Mark must have realized she'd fled and chased after her in her car. Of all the times to take an after-sex interest in her, why did he choose now? Mark had barely stopped the little car when he scrambled out.

"Nicki, come back!" His golden hair flew around his face in the desert wind. Panic transformed his face as he ran toward the Lexus.

Her heart nearly broke at the sight of him.

Zack floored the accelerator and, with a screech of tires, the car darted out into the nearly empty night. She turned and watched as he sprinted after the car, shouting her name. But he only grew smaller and smaller as Zack put distance between them.

"Wait!" she ordered Zack, terror slicing through Nicki's belly. "You've got to stop. I can't leave Mark there. Blade will shoot him!"

He ignored her. Out on the street, streetlights whizzed by as the car picked up speed. Fifty, sixty, seventy, through the empty streets of Vegas. Nicki couldn't possibly bail out of the car without needing a full body cast when it was all said and done. Beating Zack was tempting... but not when he could introduce the car, along with both their heads, to a brick wall. Was he that afraid of Blade?

"Zack! What are you doing?" she demanded. "Turn around. We've got to rescue Mark!"

He turned to her with a dark stare that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. A movement near his waist drew her attention. She looked down to see him point a small gun in her direction.

"Honey, if I were you, I'd start worrying about myself right now."

M
ark watched Zack speed away with Nicki. He thanked God she'd gotten away before Blade could point the gun he held at her head and fire.

Staring at his nemesis across the parking lot, Mark suspected he wasn't going to be so lucky.

To his shock, Blade bolstered his gun and drew out a cell phone. Cursing, he punched a few buttons and made a low-voiced request Mark couldn't quite hear. Was he sending someone after Nicki and Zack to finish them off?

"The game is up, Bocelli. I know about the money laundering. So does Nicki. I know you've been trying to kill her--"

Blade stomped in his direction. "We've got to find Zack and Nicki before they get too far away. You're going to help me. Now!"

Knowing it was likely going to get his brains splattered across the blacktop, Mark leaned into Blade's face. "You're going to have to kill me before I let you go anywhere near her."

Gritting his teeth, Blade grabbed Mark's shirt. "There have been moments when the idea would have thrilled the hell out of me. But we don't have time for this now." Blade released him. "You've got everything wrong. Damn it! Zack is your bad guy."

"Don't try to pull that shit on me, you motherfu--" "Why did Norton send you here?" he growled and reached into his jacket. This time he pulled out a small leather case and flipped it open to reveal an official-looking badge. "Jon Bocelli. FBI."

N
icki stared at the cold, black metal of the gun's barrel hovering at Zack's waist--and pointing directly at her. Nervous laughter escaped her throat.

"Zack? If this is your idea of a joke--" "Do I look like I'm kidding?"

She searched his face, gaze tracing the tense lines, the sweat running down his temple, and the grim shape of his mouth. No, he didn't look like he was kidding in the least. "Oh, no ..."

"I hate to do this. I really do." He sighed. "I like you. It's nothing personal."

A cold terror rained through her blood. Zack was seriously threatening... to kill her?

"Whatever it is, you don't have to do this."

"I do," he huffed. "You're in my way. I tried to make the light fall on you. It would have looked like an accident since we'd had the lights serviced the previous day. You wouldn't have felt a thing... But no, that Viking buffoon had to knock you out of the way at the last minute."