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“That’s it.”

She felt his fingers probe the area again, then he stepped away. “I’m going to take some blood, make sure there’s nothing bad going on inside you. It looks fine, just a shallow puncture wound. Why’d he do it?”

“I think it might have just been to deliver a note to us,” Savich said. “There was a note wrapped around the shaft.”

“I see. Interesting mail delivery service this guy has. Well, better to be careful.” He took a sample of her blood, then left, saying that he’d have results for them in two hours.

“A very good man to have as a friend,” Savich said. “I wonder, though, how many more favors he’ll believe he owes me.”

Thomas said to Savich, but his eyes were on his daughter, “You got his kid back for him. He’ll believe he owes you forever.”

It was nearly one o’clock in the morning when Dr. Breaker called. Thomas took the call, looked very relieved as he listened. He was smiling when he turned to Becca and Adam. “Everything’s okay. Nothing there but your beautiful normal stuff, Becca. He said not to worry.”

Becca had rather hoped there might be something, nothing terminal, naturally, but something. Otherwise, they still had not a single clue about anything. Krimakov had kidnapped Sam to get her back to Riptide. Then he’d shot her in the shoulder to deliver that ridiculous note. In the gym parking lot. Nothing made sense.

That night Adam came to her. It was very dark in her room. She was lying there, unable to sleep even though it was very late, staring toward the window, looking at the slice of white moon just above the maple treetops. The trees were silhouetted stark and silent against the night, and they were perfectly still, no breeze at all. Thank God the house was air-conditioned. It was cool in her bedroom.

Her door opened, then closed quietly. His voice was soft, pitched low. “Don’t be afraid. It’s just me. And I’m not here to jump you, Becca.”

She looked over at him, standing with his back against her closed door.

“Why not?”

He laughed, a painful sound, and walked toward her, tall, strong, and she wanted him.

He said, stopping beside her bed, looking down at her, “You never say what I expect. I want to jump you, at least a dozen times an hour, but no, this is your father’s house. One doesn’t do that under the parental roof when one isn’t married. But don’t get me wrong. If I could strip that nightgown off you, I would have it gone in a second flat. But I can’t. Not here. I just wanted to see how you were doing. Oh hell, that’s a big lie. I’m here because I want to kiss you until we’re both stupid with pleasure.”

He was beside her then, drawing her up and against his chest, and he kissed her, lightly, then with more pressure, and she opened her mouth and didn’t want him to stop. His breath was hot and sweet, his scent rich, dark, and that mouth of his was delicious, and she let herself enjoy him fully. She wanted more and more. It was Adam who pushed her gently back after what seemed like only an instant.

“You’re beautiful,” he said and streaked his fingers through her hair, pushing it behind her ears. “Even with your hair still a bit brassy.”

“I’m not stupid with pleasure yet, Adam.”

“I’m not, either, but we’ve got to stop.” He was breathing hard, his hands flexing and unflexing against her back.

“Maybe we could kiss just a little bit more?”

“Listen, if we don’t stop right now, I’ll start crying because I know that sooner or later we’d have to stop. We’ll stop now before it kills me.”

“All right, then. You be strong and let me mess with you just a bit.” She kissed his chin once, then again. She touched her fingers to his cheeks, his nose, his brows, lightly traced over his mouth. She looked at his mouth as she said, “I haven’t told you this before, Adam. So much has happened. We haven’t known each other all that long, and nothing we’ve done together has been remotely normal or predictable. But here goes: You’re very, very sexy.”

He stared at her in the dim light as if he hadn’t understood her. “What did you say? You