Texas Hearts

Texas Hearts

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Texas Hearts By

Anne Blaeske

Anne Blaeske

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PROLOGUE

It could be worse. It could be raining. Jeannine Marshall cast a wary glance behind her, a shiver coursing through her as an inexplicable feeling of fear wound its way up her body from her stomach to prickle the hair on her neck. Her steps quickened as though the devil himself was after her. It must be the weather. There was no reason for her to have this inexplicable feeling of fear. She berated herself for her silliness. There was a reason she chose this area to live in. It was safe. Crime was not rampant in this well-to-do downtown residential neighborhood heavy with young professionals and short on crime. The normally dark night was even darker as storm clouds rolled across the sky, obscuring the pale light from the moon. Streetlights dotted the street creating ominous, yet welcome, havens of light on the wet pavement. She looked up and sighed as a light drizzle dripped down upon her. “Spoke too soon. Of course, why should I have expected any less considering the type of the type of a day I had? Shouldn’t have thought that I would make it home before it started, should I? Now, that would be asking for a miracle,” she muttered into the darkness, chuckling sarcastically as she pulled up the collar on her fashionable trench coat. She ducked her head as she stepped up her pace another notch, noting with relief that her condominium building was less than a block away. Jeannine felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as she cast a wary glance at the passers-by. Despite the sterling reputation of the area, she quickened her pace until she was almost running. A scream caught in her throat as the sharp blue crackle of a taser arched through the darkness, lighting the area, as though blue lightening had come from the sky and sent the charge of electricity through her body. “You aren’t so special.” Her attacker whispered, almost caressingly, in her ear. Jeannine felt the

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warm breath against her ear but could do nothing but stare up at the figure, even as she writhed on the ground, her face contorted in agony and fear. “Yes, only a miracle could save you now. You are the type of woman who he likes and dates. He never took notice of the one person who worshipped him, cared for his every need without complaint and yet, he never noticed me. This will make him sit up and take notice.” Chuckling, the shadow dragged her into the deserted alley. Unable to move, she could only stare into the steely, calm gaze of one who has lost touch with reality. Her eyes opened wide in surprise as she recognized her attacker. She couldn’t help but wonder why someone she recognized from her lofty social circles would be here trying to kill her. Her mouth opened forming words that caught in her throat. The dim, grease covered bare light bulb in the back doorway of Gepetto’s Italian Eatery caught the glint of the steel. A single tear and her silent cry ended in a gurgle as a splatter of blood sprayed onto the brick, mixing with the dirt of a city alley, forming an oddly provocative pattern. She knew she was going to die, and yet, she wondered how long it would take before someone noticed the blood spattered on the wall. Was this one of those random surreal thoughts that a person gets just before one dies? The neighborhood eatery was popular with the area professionals who had too much money and too little time. She herself ate there at least once a week. Despite the excellent cuisine Gepetto’s offered, their service was often lacking. It has often been said that murder can be committed directly in front of one of the teenagers who staffed the restaurant and he wouldn’t notice. It was ironic that theory was to be tested tonight. It was a vicious twist of fate that the theory would be tested on her. Jeannine whimpered as one of the diamonds studs she wore was torn viciously from her ear. The flash of the blade cut another swath of light through the darkness as her attacker took one more present and the obscurity of darkness overtook her.

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CHAPTER ONE

“Five million for the entire shipment.” Jesse Walker grinned. She didn’t allow the amusement to be reflected in her eyes—eyes that also never wavered from their target. That was one of the first things she learned when negotiating a deal. Never let them see you waver. Never let them see weakness. One moment of weakness can mean a lifetime of oblivion. Her target, an oily-haired man, shook his head, unfazed by the intense gaze, “Seven million. You know the street value is worth well over that.” Leaning back against the hood of her sleek silver BMW roadster, she coolly surveyed the dismal alleyway. She noted with disdain the smell of rotting food from the dumpster, a smell that threatened to overpower them all. All she wanted to do was to go home and take a shower. A corner of her mouth rose in disgust as she watched a rat the size of Rhode Island skitter behind the dumpster. Her left eyebrow rose slowly as she cast her gaze upon the two burly bodyguards who stood next to Carlos Rafael Sanchez, the largest volume drug dealer this side of the Rio Grande. He brushed away an invisible speck of dust, his face, a mask of intense thought, reflected off the spotless Lincoln Navigator. Sanchez let Jesse toss those figures around in her head for a few moments as he admired himself in the side mirror, slicking back his black hair with the comb he pulled from his pocket. Hooking her fingers in the belt loops of her jeans, she nodded, “Done. Angelo.” A raised finger signaled her partner, Angelo Gonzalez, to bring over a black leather briefcase. He opened it, revealing several rows of neatly stacked one-hundred dollar bills, the bank’s wrapper and seal still on them. “Ten percent as a down payment. As discussed, the balance will be paid when we pick up the shipment.” “Damn! Cops!” One of the thugs pointed down the alley. He immediately reached into his shoulder holster, drawing out a deadly looking .357 Colt Python pistol.

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Following the direction of the finger he was pointing, Jesse spotted the source of their panic. A Houston police car was slowly coming toward them, up the alleyway, effectively blocking in the SUV from moving. A routine patrol car with a couple of overly curious cops, but it was enough to spook their targets and Sanchez’s hired goons were well spooked.

*****

She gave Angelo a look of exasperation. They had worked this case for close to six months, working slowly and often frustratingly through Carlo’s various low-level dealers and bagmen. They had made deals with all of them, each and every one, starting with penny-ante stashes to larger deals, and finally up to this multi-million dollar deal. All those months of working with the dregs of society, trashed in one quick second because of a couple of overly suspicious locals. Someone had dropped the ball back at the office. The Houston PD was supposed to have been informed of this buy and was supposed to maintain a police free zone for this deal. Angelo growled an expletive as the police car stopped, the doors flung open in response to the drawn weapon. Leave it up to the ever-helpful police department to ruin a perfectly good undercover operation. “Drop it!” Both officers dropped to a defensive position, using the car doors as cover from incoming fire, as they called out the warning. Following his companion’s lead, the second bodyguard drew a black .357 Magnum from his jacket. He pointed it at the police officers, covering Carlos, who took off running down the alley away from the police with Jesse in hot pursuit. Angelo dove behind a stack of empty boxes, which wouldn’t provide a whole hell of a lot of actual cover from bullets, Angelo identified himself quickly. Too many good cops on the job had been shot by locals who thought they were perps and not undercover officers. “Texas Ranger! Drop your weapons.”

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Realizing the futility of the situation, the two bodyguards stood in the open, their rear ends figuratively waving in the breeze. It could have been them who got out, but instead they were stupid enough to sit there covering Carlos’ good for nothing ass as he took off towards freedom while they stood here facing another round of jail time.

Spreading their arms wide, their weapons hanging

precariously from the index finger, the two thugs slowly bent down, placing the guns on the ground at their feet. Not very good at hiding their nervousness, the officers’ fingers twitched nervously over the trigger of their weapons. The moment the thugs finished their ascent back into a standing position, their hands instinctively moved into a position they were familiar with–fingers interlaced behind the head. “You ! Behind the boxes! Put your weapon down and step out with your hands up!” Warily eyeing the nervous duo with the itchy fingers, Angelo placed his weapon upon the top of a box. No use giving them an excuse to shoot. He had a wife waiting at home with a nice dinner and warm, soft arms that will wrap around him, taking away all the cares of the day. His beloved little Emma will be there with sticky fingers, giving equally sticky kisses and demanding butterfly kisses on her sticky face. Pulling his badge from his back pocket, he slowly stepped from his protective barrier, his arms spread out wide in the universal symbol of surrender with his badge clutched in his hand. Ignoring the glare from the two men he just betrayed, he again identified himself as a Texas Ranger. Reassured, one of the officers, whose nametag identified him as Officer Ciccone, stepped from behind his cover, slipping his weapon back into holster on his right hip. Walking cautiously towards the perp, the cop removed the handcuffs from the holder at the back of his belt to secure the prisoners. Angelo’s mouth took on a life of their own as they formed into a shit-ass grin, while he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his jacket pocket. Dangling them in front of the thug, he recited the familiar mantra of Miranda Decision. “But you already knew that, didn’t you, Ramone?” He grinned gleefully into the thug’s ear as he finished locking the metal bracelets around his thick wrists. This was Ramone’s third offense and a long

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sentence was pretty much guaranteed. “Oh, I forgot, you’re on parole aren’t you? This is not gonna look good.” Eyes filled with hatred, Ramone winced as Angelo gave the cuffs an extra shove, tightening them around the thick wrists rewarding him with a terse remark alluding to his parentage. “My, we are articulate today, aren’t we? Let’s see if you’re this articulate when you’re some guy’s girlfriend in the pen. Oh, wait, but you’re used to that, aren’t you?”

*****

Jesse took off after Carlos, despite the risk of being shot by the Houston police. She had to hope that Angelo identified himself quickly and kept the others at bay. She followed Carlos as he raced down the alley, diving headlong out onto the busy downtown street, congested by the inhabitants of the area office buildings rushing to their lunch hour. These pedestrians were completely ignorant of everything around them save for the cloud of their own thoughts and took no notice of the black pistol Carlos’ pulled from the shoulder holster, hidden by the tailored suit jacket he wore. “Goddamn it!” The expletive, as well as several others that her mother repeatedly reminded her was not fit for a lady exploded from her. She could imagine the PR nightmare if a police foot chase into lunch hour traffic turned into a shoot out with civilian casualties. Following Carlo’s lead, she dove out of the alleyway, hollering, “Texas Ranger. Hold it!” Whirling around, Carlos popped off a wild shot at his pursuer. The sounds of traffic almost drowned out the explosion of gunfire. Despite the ambient noise level, the sound of the shot was immediately followed by the screams of pedestrians in the area as they noticed the armed man bursting from the alleyway. Men and women in tailored suits dove to the ground in an attempt to stay out of the ensuing gunplay. Others, unfortunately, froze in fear, making getting a clear shot difficult. The bullet drove into the wall, spraying small sharp shards of brick in every direction as she dove back into the cover of the alley. She bit back a curse as a shard cut her hand then froze as she glanced at

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the chip in the brick of the wall—in the exact spot she had been. Thanking God for blessing her with above average reflexes despite her predisposition to taking his name in vain, Jesse flattened herself against the wall, jerking her black .357 Sig Sauer from her shoulder holster. She took a deep breath and drew strength from her weapon’s comforting weight before she dove out from behind the wall she was using for cover. Unfortunately, Carlos wasn’t her only concern as the most danger to her life came from the average citizen on the street. Texas was a concealed handgun permit state allowing anyone without a criminal record and having some basic proficiency to carry a concealed weapon. A hot-blooded Texan with a gun was not a good combination. Lady Luck was again with her as neither Carlos nor a concerned citizen who fancied himself John Wayne was waiting for her in the street. Carlos had instead, taken her moment of hesitation to flee, weaving his way through a line of cars waiting for a light to turn green. Jesse cursed roundly as she lost sight of her quarry in the gnarled lunchtime traffic. She made a split second decision and jumped onto the hood of a car, then another and another, racing over the vehicles, using them as stepping-stones in an effort to keep Carlos in sight. Her quarry glanced over his shoulder. He spun, taking an undisciplined shot at his pursuer. The bullet went wild, spider webbing the passenger’s side window of the shiny silver Jaguar on which Jesse was perched. She continued her pursuit, ignoring the screaming curses of the vehicle’s driver, but wondering if the offended party would sue the department. She winced in expectation of the tongue lashing her captain will have waiting for her. The pursuit continued for another block, catching a lucky break as Carlos screeched to a stop, narrowly avoiding an impatient delivery truck that rolled into the intersection before the light turned green. Damn. It would have saved the taxpayers a lot of money, not to mention saving her a trip to court, if he had decided to get himself flattened by a half-ton truck. That was the break she needed as she leapt off the Chevy she was on and slammed full force into Carlos, knocking him to the ground. She jerked him up by the scruff of the neck and aimed a wellplaced punch to the jaw, incapacitating the drug dealing scum long enough for her to flip him onto his

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stomach. She pulled him up and yanked his arms behind his back as she slammed him against the hood of a sedate blue four-door Toyota, “You have the right to remain silent, scumbag!” Jesse looked up into the clear blue eyes of the startled driver, a young woman with two blonde tow-headed boys sitting in the backseat. The boys took the invasion with more courage than their mother did, as they strained eagerly to watch the action. Jesse smiled what she hoped was reassuringly at her, but it didn’t seem to take the fear out of the woman’s eye. Oh, well, at least she will have something exciting to talk about with her friends. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” she growled as she wrapped the cuffs around his wrist. She tightened the metal bracelet around his wrist and smiled as Carlos grunted in pain as the circulation to his hand was cut off. Slamming the other cuff around his left wrist, she continued with the court required Mirandas. “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand?” She tightened the second cuff, eliciting another satisfying grunt from her prisoner. She grinned devilishly at Angelo who puffed up to her side, “About time you got here.” Handing Carlos over to the two uniformed officers who arrived a second behind Angelo, she grinned. “I’m buying.” “You’re on!” Angelo fairly glowed with satisfaction.

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CHAPTER TWO

“Well, the police in our fair city are busy today.” Looking through the tinted window of the black limousine, State Senator Andrew Jackson Wallis smiled at the crowd of police vehicles, both marked cars and unmarked with their little red light on the front dashboard, making an already crowded street almost impassable. Turning back to the woman sitting across from him as the limousine turned the corner and the flashing lights of the police vehicles disappeared. “You were saying?” Ana Lopez smiled ruefully at her long-time employer. Conservatively dressed in a dark blue navy suit, she turned her attention back to the leather portfolio perched on her lap. “We were discussing the fund raiser tomorrow night for Representative Bill Higgins.” He laughed, “I can’t get you off the topic can I? You know that I had rather hoped to avoid that topic of conversation.” “Yes, Andrew, I know. However, you are planning to announce your bid for the House of Representatives soon and you will need the goodwill of these people for donations and endorsements. And to get those, you have to be seen at these functions.” He knew he should listen to Ana’s advice more closely considering she had been his assistant for most of his professional and political life, hired directly out of college as his assistant when he was just one of the many junior legal counsels who slaved for the Wallis conglomerate. His father was a firm believer in putting in time at the bottom before moving into the executive floor. She had put in twelve or more hour days at his side as his assistant, and then, three years later, spent her evenings as a volunteer in his bid for the state senate. He was now considering a bid for the United States House of Representatives, and she was still beside him and no one would ever be able to take her place. He waved a careless hand at her as the interior of the vehicle darkened as the long vehicle pulled into the underground parking garage of the Wallis Corporate building. Started in 1865 as the Wallis

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Savings and Loan under the direction of his great, great grandfather Samuel L. Wallis, the small bank grew through the decades to become one of the largest investment conglomerates in the Lone Star State. Getting out of the car, Andrew held his hand out in a manner worthy of a Southern gentleman to help his assistant out of the car. He reached back into the car to yank his black leather briefcase from its place on the seat and her briefcase that rested on her seat. “Ma’am,” he offered her briefcase to her accompanied by a deep, melodramatic bow. Ana smiled, her face contorting comically as she fought the urge to laugh and maintain a professional demeanor. Andrew straightened with a silly, half-smile plastered on his face and the wiggle of his eyebrows, destroying her composure, reducing her to a fit of childish giggles. It was just as he intended and self-satisfaction flowed through him. Deftly avoiding a swung briefcase, he laughed his way to the elevator, punching the up button. He turned to look back at the still laughing Ana. She shook her head at his antics as she slung her softsided case over her shoulder and mockingly stalked over to stand beside him. She took a notepad out, opening it, a pen at the ready. “So, do you want me to call and send your regrets?” The elevator door opened as he swiveled his head around an exaggerated grimace on his face, causing her to break into laughter with renewed vigor. “No, then the party chairman will call and I will not hear the end of it until I go to one of his wife’s horrid little cocktail parties and subject myself to the attentions of every eligible woman in the state of Texas!” He grinned some more as she turned away, knowing that she was going to take this time to regain her composure. He should feel sorry for making her lose her composure this way; he knew how much maintaining her professional demeanor meant to her, but he just could not stop himself from making her lose that demeanor once in awhile. Ana slid the keycard into the slot beside the top button and entered her security code, allowing them access to the executive suites that occupied the top three floors of the fifty-story building. “Well, you have been listed as the most eligible bachelor in Texas for the past three years and you were featured in last year’s Cosmo as one of the most eligible bachelors in America.”

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He could never understand the fuss made over him. Oh, he knew that he was attractive to women—the sheer number of dates he’d had in his lifetime attested to that—but he never exactly thought of himself as one of the sexiest men on the planet. The grimace firmly back in place, he shuddered melodramatically as he swallowed several times to quell the popping in his ears from the speed of the elevator. Stepping out of the elevator into a foyer that led to his office, he was greeted by the beautiful wood panels lining the walls of the antechamber, with its comfortable sofa and armchairs, tasteful magazines and books artfully strewn about the coffee table. A wooden sentinel in front of large oak doors leading to the inner sanctum, as Ana liked to call it, was her gleaming, spotless desk. The desk faced the main glass doors that led into the foyer, beyond which were another bank of elevators, leading to the main lobby of the building. Despite many offers to move Ana into a private office and place a receptionist at this desk, she continued to man her post, guarding the entry to his office with greater ferocity than the United States Army monitored Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin during the Cold War. Ana put her briefcase and purse in the small office that doubled as a file room to the right of the desk. He winked devilishly at her before closing the door to his office. The décor here was the complete opposite of the antechamber. While the antechamber was designed to calm visitors, Andrew’s office was designed to intimidate and awe with its feeling of sheer power. As usual, he felt his feet sink into the thick light-gray carpet, a concession to the many times he was trapped on a conference call until the late hours of the evening and he wanted kick off his shoes and stretch his toes. A comfortable sitting area with a couch, loveseat and armchair in black leather occupied a corner of the huge room. Off-center towards the right side, twelve comfortable leather chairs surrounded the glass topped conference table. Dominating the room was a large black lacquered desk with two leather chairs in front of it and a large leather chair behind it. He laid his briefcase carefully on the credenza behind his desk as he admired the gorgeous Houston skyline through the huge plate glass window as he did every morning. The view was definitely better than when he first started with the company. He would have traded all

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this splendor and power for the return of his parents. He inherited the company at the tragic death of his parents three years ago. They had left for on a beautiful summer day for a short cruise on his father’s sailboat, his pride and joy. A freak storm blew up the gulf. The searchers never found the remains of the boat or his parents. A light rap at the door drew his attention back to the business at hand. Ana entered the office with a long white flower box cradled in her arm. They had forgone the formality of waiting for Andrew to acknowledge the knock within the first year of their working relationship. “Flowers, Andrew? From the flower shop you always use. So, who’s the admirer of the week?” Shrugging in confusion, he took the box from her and glanced at the familiar label. “I don’t know. My last date was with Jeannine Marshall, and that was almost a week ago.” He shrugged sheepishly. “She hasn’t bothered to return any of my calls. So, I doubt she is interested enough to send me flowers.” Opening the box, his face turned a sickly shade of white as he stared in astonishment at the contents, dropping it on the desk. The box dropped with a light thump, the open white box landed on its side, a severed hand, dried blood still clinging to the wrist where it was cut, clutched half a dozen black roses as it rolled out onto the pristine desktop.

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CHAPTER THREE

“You wanted to see me, Captain Walker?” Jesse poked her head around the gleaming oak door, a Cheshire cat grin plastered on her face. She still marveled every time she walked into Ranger HQ. They had recently moved from their tired old offices into new digs. Impressive would be one way to describe it when one looked at the gleaming wooden doors, wood paneling that lined the office walls, and the new wooden desks that hadn’t seen generations of rough and tumble Rangers. She loved the clean lines of her desk, unmarred by cowboy boots thrown casually on the desktop. She had the satisfaction of knowing that in ten years or so, when a new Ranger came in and sat down at the desk, the scarring he saw on the desk came from her boots and no one else. “You could knock next time, Jesse.” The older, brown haired man looked up from behind his permanent place behind several stacks of paper scattered over the large desk, his eyes twinkling. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d spent his days on the streets. Now, he was a permanent fixture behind the desk and paper piles. Ignoring the reprimand, Jesse entered the office closing the door gently, almost too gently, behind her. “We caught Carlos Sanchez today.” Flashing Captain Adam Walker another delighted grin, she wandered the wood paneled office, too full of energy to sit down. “So, I heard. You and Angelo did a good job.” Adam made no effort to hide the pride in his voice. She stopped in her careless meandering of the small room, to reach out to touch the frame of a picture hanging prominently on the wall, a twin of which hung in her office. The day that picture was taken was the proudest day of her life. It was the day she was presented

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with the star proclaiming her a Texas Ranger. Her ever-frugal father had commissioned a photographer to take the family photo. Five children, four Texas Rangers, five Rangers counting himself, it was a historic day. Captain Josiah Walker sat next to the love of his life, Rose Walker, while their children surrounded him. As usual, Jesse was stuck in the middle of her gargantuan brothers who, despite her five foot ten inch height, dwarfed her in both height and girth. The circle enclosing the star, the badge of a Texas Ranger, gleamed on each of their chests. All except Daniel, she corrected herself. He had decided to fight crime on the other side of the law, as an Assistant District Attorney. She turned her attention back to her eldest brother, running the back of her hand over her eyes to brush away the rim of moisture that had collected there. It still hurt to think of it. Their father had been murdered, not too long after that wonderful day. “I have another assignment for you. You know Senator Andrew Jackson Wallis, don’t you?” Adam broke the silence. “Mr. Most Eligible Bachelor in the Universe? Of course, I don’t think any living breathing person in or out of the state of Texas hasn’t heard of him.” “He received an interesting delivery this morning,” Adam said. “This is the third threat he has received since the beginning of the month.” He sifted through a stack of papers on the cluttered desk. He uttered a sound of triumph as he pulled a small stack of photos from a pile of files and handed them over to her. “Sick individual.” She flipped through the pictures the crime scene unit took. “And we’re just hearing about this now? Is it some publicity stunt aimed at gaining sympathy from the voting populace? The rumor is that the Senator is going to announce his bid for the House of Representatives soon, isn’t it?” Adam shook his head. “I don’t believe this is a publicity stunt, Jesse. The first threat they received was a crank call. However, since he is a public figure and receives calls of all sorts at the time, they dismissed it. The second was a note. Again, they dismissed it for the same reason, and now this. No, this threat is real.”

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“Has the hand been identified yet?” he glanced at the picture again and shook her head. There really were some sick people out there. A part of her still believed that is was all a publicity stunt. However, the conviction in Adam’s voice gave her pause. “Yes, it belongs to one Jeannine Marshall, a computer consultant, who disappeared two weeks ago. Senator Walker dated her the week before her death. She is also the daughter of the very well connected and wealthy Austin Marshall. She moved up here to Houston after graduating from college. Her body turned up last week in a Dumpster, minus one hand.” He snorted and shrugged wryly. “At least we know where the hand is.” He ran his hand over his harried face. “And the Marshalls have been putting the screws on me to find her killer.” “Great. Need I remind you that I investigate narcotics crimes and that this is the job of the local cops, Adam?” She looked suspiciously at her brother, the eldest of the clan and her senior by seventeen years. “So, what do you want from me?” “I want you to protect Senator Wallis.” “You want me to do what?” She sputtered. She stared askance into her coffee cup, wondering if someone spiked her morning brew. There was no way she could have heard what she heard unless she was under the influence of something stronger than caffeine. “For you to protect Senator Wallis,” Adam repeated slowly, enunciating each syllable carefully. Jesse gaped at him, cutting lose with a string of curses one can only learn with four older brothers in the house. “Goddamn it, Adam! I’m a Texas Ranger, not a babysitter! Besides what the hell is Angelo supposed to do while I am off watching Mr. High and Mighty? Dad would have never done this to me!” Captain Adam Walker sighed in exasperation. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that Jesse is his favorite and only sister, he said calmly, too calmly. “Our father is dead, Jesse. I am in charge, you do what I tell you to do, and I am telling you to protect Senator Wallis. It is obvious the killer is trying to get the Senator’s attention. Whether it is an infatuated ex-lover, an irate constituent, or

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some other psycho who wants his five minutes of fame by stalking a public figure, it is our job to protect him. Last I checked Angelo is taking his lovely wife and adorable daughter to enjoy a week of unbridled capitalism and marketing at Disney World. When he returns, he will investigate the threat to Senator Wallis from the office.” Jesse silently cursed herself. No, she didn’t need to do that she was already cursed. There has been at least one Walker in the Texas Rangers since before the civil war. Why did it have to fall on her generation for there to be not one, but four Walkers active on the force at the same time? Never mind that they assigned her to her big brother’s Company. Of course that wasn’t all bad, her brothers have ever been able to say no to her. With a groan, she flopped down onto the chair in front of his desk. The chair was hard and uncomfortable one of the many techniques Adam employed to make his Rangers not welcome in his office. “So, what the hell did I do to deserve this punishment?” “Look, Jesse, you need a break from narcotics. It is probably best for you to keep your face off the street for a little while. The word is that Sanchez’s boys put a high price on your head. Since you have inherited the Walker hardheadedness, it is up to me to take you off the street for your safety. Besides, Mom will skin me if anything happened to you.” “You can’t do this to me, Adam.” “I can and I am. Pack your bags, Jesse, you are going to be with Senator Wallis day and night until this is over,” he laughed. “Look on the bright side, Jesse, he hates this as much as you. We wanted to send a full team, but he wouldn’t allow that. So we convinced him to accept one of our best.” “So, why does he get what he wants?” She asked peevishly. “And I don’t?” “Because he is a Senator and you aren’t.” She gave him a look of absolute disgust as she slammed the door on her way out, shaking the photos hanging on the walls.

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CHAPTER FOUR

“Senator Wallis, Ranger Walker is here to see you.” Ana’s voice floated into the room over the intercom. “Give me a minute and then send him in,” he said. He took his finger off the intercom button. Releasing a long pent-up breath, he stood and stared out the huge window onto the Houston skyline. Most of the afternoon had been spent staring blankly at income and expense reports from various Wallis holdings that demanded his attention.

Even when he tried to dictate responses to the stack of

correspondence, his mind wandered back to his surprise package. The latest present in the mail scared him. Not that he would admit it to anyone, but it did frighten him. However, to allow the Rangers to place a phalanx of guards would have been a blow to his macho, clean-cut, former all-star quarterback image. It was an image he did not want, but it was also an image that won him votes. Sometimes being a senator is not all that it is cracked up to be. Thank goodness the Wallis name gave him a bargaining chip with Captain Adam Walker. He was able to reduce the phalanx to one bodyguard. The only problem was that the bodyguard was going to be with him twenty four/seven. The sound of the door opening behind him caught his attention, causing him to turn around. “Senator Wallis? I’m Sergeant Jesse Walker.” He had to admire the tall leggy brunette who stepped into the room as Ana, ever helpful and present, but never intrusive, quietly closed the door behind her. An amused smile crept its way onto his face at the sight of the jeans and denim shirt she wore, so incongruous to the perfectly tailored power suits worn by his executives, men and women alike. Unlike most women of his acquaintance, she did not carry a purse. Instead, the gun on her hip was barely covered by her faded denim jacket, the Ranger star pinned proudly on the left breast.

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It was a complete three-hundred and sixty-degree turn from his blue Armani double-breasted suit and “power” tie. He briefly wondered where she carried her lipstick and other make-up before realizing that she was not wearing any make-up. “Sergeant Walker. A pleasure to meet you.” He stepped from behind his mammoth desk, his hand extended. “Captain Walker informs me that you will be staying with me until the supposed danger to my life is over?” She nodded, taking his hand in a firm handshake, “Yes, Senator. I was told that you didn’t want a full security detail.” “You are right, Sergeant, I do not like the idea of a crowd of men around me at all times. It detracts from the one-on-one image that I have developed with the voters of this state.” He moved to the fully stocked bar on the far side of the room. “Actually, I prefer not to have any security at all, except for the ones we employ here in the building, however, Captain Walker was insistent. Would you like a drink?” “Since we’re going to be joined at the hip for awhile, you may as well call me Jesse. And, no, I’m fine, thanks.” “Are you related, Jesse?” He turned to look at her, catching her in the midst of her perusal of him. He refrained from chuckling. She snapped out of some reverie staring at him blankly. “I’m sorry. What?” “Are you related to Captain Walker?” “Umm, yeah, and to Lt. Travis Walker, and Sergeant Jon Walker, and the late Captain Josiah Walker,” she smiled wryly. “Being Texas Rangers has been a long standing tradition in my family. There just hasn’t been this many of us serving at the same time. And, yes, I am also related to Assistant District Attorney Daniel Walker, Senator.” “Andrew, since, as you say, we will be joined at the hip,” he flashed a smile that could easily melt the hardest of hearts. “The game plan, Senator... Andrew, is that I will be with you twenty-four/seven until this crisis

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is resolved. I will be your shadow.” “Are you going to follow me into the bathroom, too?” He teased. “If necessary,” she said without a trace of humor on her face. The shock must have shown on his face based on the amusement on hers. “I have four older brothers, sir. I am sure that you don’t have anything that I haven’t seen before.” He almost choked at her jest. He paused a moment. He hoped that following him into the bathroom was a jest. He cursed inwardly as another shot of desire stabbed through him. This is the first time he wondered about the validity of the comment with which organ men used for conscious, and unconscious, decision-making. Andrew knew that there would be concern when he informed the police about the present he received that morning. He did not expect that it would be turned over to the Texas Rangers—though he should have. There would be a whole passel of hell to pay if a deranged stalker killed Texas’ favorite son. He also did not expect Captain Walker to acquiesce to his request that he not be guarded by a horde of Rangers or cops, instead, having one-person stay with him. Guilt did nag at him as he was essentially destroying the private life of the Ranger assigned to him, but his image was important. He will make it up to her later, maybe with a nice dinner for two. A nice candlelit dinner for two, he amended. When Jesse Walker stepped into his office, he was completely blown away by the young woman. Ana knew he thought that the Ranger was male. She could have warned him. She was probably enjoying a good laugh at his expense right this second. A bit of revenge for his teasing earlier. He, on the other hand, was thankful for the suit coat he was wearing as it obscured the desire that he felt surge through him when the trim redhead walked into the room.

Furiously, he clamped down on the

unexpected desire that rushed through him in a torrent. He almost groaned when the impact of her words settled in. She was going to be with him twenty-four/seven, meaning twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week—in other words, an eternity. “I am sure that I have nothing you haven’t seen before,” he smiled. “And I very much doubt that

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it would be necessary for me to be followed into the bathroom.” “Are you sure of that, sir? It would be a nasty blow to my career if you were whacked in the john.” She smiled serenely back at him. He blinked, still not sure if she was serious or not. She could not be serious could she? It was a credit to his upbringing that he was able to keep a startled look out of his eyes and his jaw from dropping. “I don’t think that I would be “whacked”, as you say, in the john.” “‘Righty’ Carboni was whacked in the john,” she shrugged, unconcerned. “Mr. Carboni was a mobster,” Andrew retorted. “I am a Senator and businessman.” “Many people think of politicians and businessmen as nothing more than mobsters. I will be waiting outside your office, Andrew.” She grinned saucily at him as she moved toward the door. “If you need me, just holler.” The door opened and closed before he could finish forming an appropriate retort, his eyes glued to the trim, denim-clad bottom that was exiting his office. He had dated some of the most beautiful women in the world, from actresses to dancers to Playmates, but it was this rather unremarkable Texas Ranger that caught his fancy. Unremarkable my ass, he had to be honest with himself. She did have quite a remarkable ass, a trim, athletic body, and a perfect hourglass shape. And he had no doubt her assets were all God-given. Releasing a long, emotion fraught sigh, he resigned himself to the unhappy fact that she was going to be constantly in his face until the situation with this stalker was resolved. He sincerely hoped that the Rangers lived up to their reputation and caught their man quickly.

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CHAPTER FIVE

You should see how the other half lives. Jesse never fully understood that cliché was until she entered the Wallis Ranch. Over three hundred acres of prime land spanning a good portion of the Houston suburbs, besides the fifty-room ranch house, the stables boasted more than fifty top thoroughbreds, including three Derby winners.

The guestroom she was shown to could only be

conservatively described as spacious, with a balcony overlooking the enormous manicured lawn, and a marble tiled bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub big enough for four. Turning back to her battered duffel bag tossed haphazardly on the huge Shaker bed, she determinedly unpacked, hanging her shirts in the custom designed walk-in closet, placing her various pairs of jeans in the handy cedar drawers that lined one side of the closet. She chuckled wryly as she noted the especially designed shoe racks. Enough space to hold Imelda Marcus’ entire shoe collection, she thought. It was a welcome distraction to the mental kicks she had been giving herself most of the afternoon. She knew that he caught her perusing him in his office earlier, when he was at the bar. She admired his lean body and the man’s broad-shouldered physique. Men weren’t supposed to be that good looking. On camera and in pictures, he had a commanding presence and no one would argue that the camera loved him. She always attributed Adonis-like looks to camera angles and make-up. But this guy looked good from any and all angles. That was for damn sure. Yes, that man could definitely melt hearts, Jesse thought. That hundred, no thousand, megawatt smile was impressive in the photos and on television. In person, however, that smile was devastating. No wonder he been named most eligible bachelor for three years running, and had a gorgeous, new woman decorating his arm every week. Or was that every day? She didn’t like the direction her thoughts were turning. Instead, she turned her attention to the

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solid, light-colored oak armoire set against the wall in front of the bed. Opening it, she smiled at the large TV connected, of course, to a satellite dish that received every channel one can conceive of and a state of the art DVD player/recorder. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the TiVo box sitting in the armoire. A beeping from her watch pulled her mind from the array of electronic toys. Dinner is served at seven p.m. sharp, the butler had stiffly told her. Whatever happened to throwing something in the microwave for dinner? Not here, dinner was served at a specific time in the main dining hall. Probably on china with crystal glasses, too. Closing the solid oak door behind her, she walked down the carpeted hallway toward the huge marble staircase. Stopping at the top and looking down into the while marble foyer, she could see the sweeping entry Andrews’ mother, a renowned beauty and one of the social elite, must have made in her time, before the accident took her life, as well as her husband’s. It had been a blow to Houston when they died. Margaret Wallis was on the board of several charities and she and her husband were great philanthropists. The vision came unbidden into her mind. She could hear the strains of a waltz drifting through the air, sounds of a grand party floated through the house from the ballroom. The faint scent of jasmine drifted in from the open windows lent an eerie reality to her imagination. Men and women dressed in the formal clothing of the pre-Civil War era gathered in the foyer, sipping champagne and exchanging small talk. In her mind’s eye she saw herself, sweeping grandly down the marble staircase, admired by those gathered at the bottom of the staircase, resplendent in a deep green silk hoop skirt, her hands encased in white satin gloves... “And you would look completely silly in that get-up and break your neck on the marble,” she muttered, pulling herself out of pre-Civil War and back into the present. “Girl, the last time you had a date was when you were in college and that was the first and only date you ever had. And it wasn’t a date it was a disaster. The Alamo was a greater success.” As usual, no one was better at slamming her self-esteem than she was. The reminder of her lack

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of a sex life was enough to shake the last of the fantasy out of her head. She double-timed down the staircase and took a quick left, down another well-appointed corridor into the large dining room, dominated by huge floor to ceiling windows overlooking an elegant swimming pool designed to be reminiscent of a hideaway cove with a waterfall. In the center of the room was a table that could easily seat fifty, comfortably. This huge table was for two, one at the far head, in front of the huge marble fireplace, and the other directly to the right of it. China and crystal, she noted wryly as her suspicions were confirmed. Yet, despite the richness of the room and design obviously intended to awe and intimidate, the dominating force in the room was still the darkly handsome man that stood in front of the fireplace, staring contemplatively into the fire. The orange flames cast flickering shadows across his face, accentuating the angular lines. The subject of her examination turned at her entrance, the eerie flicker of the fire behind his broad back made him seem larger than life. “Is your room acceptable?” Jesse laughed, a politician to the end, she thought. “Mr. Wallis, your guest room is bigger than my townhouse. I can assure you that it is beyond acceptable. Luxurious is the way I would describe it.” “Andrew, please, Jesse. As you said earlier in the day, we will be in very close company for quite awhile and we should be less formal with each other. Won’t you sit for dinner?” Saving the head of the table for himself, he moved to the chair to the right of his setting and drew it out, seating her in the chair with its plush cushion. Fortunately, she was brought up well enough to know that he was planning to seat her and that she should be gracious and sit down. She enjoyed the feeling of sinking into the plush cushion and she actually enjoyed the feeling of a man seating her. Who said chivalry was dead? Oh, right. She did. Many times. On all those date nights when she sat alone with a bowl of popcorn and a rented movie. She watched as Andrew sat down in his chair. The power and obvious sensuality radiating from him wove a web of enthrallment that Jesse could not help but to be drawn into. The butler, introduced to her earlier merely as Hampton, immediately served the soup, quietly placing the white antique china soup tureen on the table. He filled the delicate china bowls with fragrant

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and steaming lobster bisque, unobtrusively placing a bowl in front of each of them. As quietly as he entered, he retreated into the kitchen, leaving Andrew and Jesse alone. Andrew’s piercing eyes bore a hole through Jesse as he placed the napkin gently on his lap. Self-consciously, Jesse quickly slipped her own silk napkin onto her lap, picking up her spoon, and dipping it into the bowl. She blew gently on the soup-laden spoon, all the while hyperaware of the intense gaze from the man seated next to her. Taking a sip, she sighed in obvious appreciation, “This is wonderful.” “I am sure that Jacques would be pleased to hear that,” he said, picking up his own spoon and tasting a small spoonful of soup from the bowl in front of him. Jesse concentrated on the delicious soup in front of her, not trusting her voice with that intense gaze upon her. Despite the magnificence of it all, she couldn’t help but stare through lowered lashes at the gorgeous and charismatic man next to her. “Is the food acceptable?” Andrew broke the awkward silence that they shared during the first course. She looked up from her salad, startled at the broken silence. “Umm, it is wonderful. Certainly more than I would normally have for dinner.” Taking an artichoke slice on his fork, he brought it to his lips, wrapping his mouth around the fork and the food. “What would you normally have for dinner, Jesse?” She stared at him as a drip of salad dressing slid out of the corner of his mouth. A quick flick of his tongue stopped the offending drip.

She snapped out of it, answering too quickly, “Tonight?

Normally, I just grab a burger or some other fast food on my way home from work, or grab some fast food at my desk, if I was working late.” “What do you do for the Rangers, Jesse?” “I work in narcotics. Usually undercover as a high rolling drug dealer, arranging and making drug buys, working my way up the ladder, until I get to the guy in charge of it all. I was recently working on the Sanchez case. That was a long, but very rewarding case.”

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He nodded. “I heard something about it. He was a Lieutenant in the Caliban drug cartel, wasn’t he? I had heard he was recently arrested. Were you involved?” Putting a forkful of salad in her mouth, she savored the zesty bite of the tangy vinaigrette before she answered, “Yeah. Angelo and I made the collar a few days ago. The bastard was so full of himself. You should have seen his face when I slapped the cuffs on him. His jaw just about hit the ground.” “You certainly seem to enjoy your job.” “Hell, yeah!” She grinned in pleasure, delightedly stabbing a tomato with her fork. Her face turned red as realized the faux pas in her language use. “Sorry.” “Sorry for what?” he asked, an indulgent smile on his face. “My language,” she shrugged sheepishly. “My mother is always complaining about my choice of language. She blames it on the long line of law enforcement officers in the family. My brothers were really bad about it. And I just sort of picked it up, especially since I am ten years younger than my youngest brother.” “I find it refreshing, Jesse.” She almost sighed. She has never so enjoyed someone using her name. Thank goodness she was sitting down as a wave of delight spread over, leaving her body warm and her legs a wobbly mass of Jell-O. Stop it, Jesse! It’s not like you are a schoolgirl who has never been with a man before. You work amongst some of the rudest, crudest men ever put on God’s green Earth, she admonished taking refuge in her salad, allowing herself an extra moment to compose herself before answering. “Refreshing? The use of foul language?” Andrew smiled, as he brought the fork to his mouth and took a bite. A bite that was more than a little sexy. In fact, it was extremely sexy. “You are very uninhibited, Jesse, unlike most of the people that are around me on a regular basis. How long have you been with the Rangers?” “Just a couple of years, actually. I graduated college and joined the Texas State Police. A few years later, I took a position with the CLE Special Crime Units. Four years after that, I applied for and

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was accepted into the Texas Rangers, the youngest Ranger in modern history. My cases have mostly involved narcotics until, well, now. What about you?” Andrew watched as she polished off the last of the salad. Staring unhappily at the empty plate in front of her, she snapped up a roll from the basket that Hampton had at some point slipped onto the table. Tearing it in half, she used the still warm roll to sop up the remaining dressing on the plate, popping it into her mouth with an appreciative sigh. “What do you want to know about me? There is very little about me that hasn’t already been printed in the papers.” Jesse stared small pile of rolls, lovely warm homemade rolls screaming eat me from their place in the basket. Willpower versus taste buds and the willpower always lost to the demands of her stomach and taste buds. She reached out and claimed another roll, tore it in half and dipped the soft bread into the leftover vinaigrette dressing on her plate. Maybe this assignment won’t be so bad after all. However, she would have to watch her waistline. It was going to be Ultra Slim Fast and an extra mile a day for a month, but it will be well worth it. “The newspapers print what they want to print and it is not always...truthful. Whatever sells papers. Most cops know that fact intimately,” she grimaced. A sly smile crossed her face. “Are you as much a Casanova as the papers tend to brand you?” “If I dated as many women as the tabloids like to link me up with, I would be exhausted,” he laughed. “My exploits are quite a bit more boring than they like to say. I am proud to say that I have never dated Madonna.” Jesse smiled, looking down at the empty placemat where her salad plate had once stood. Hampton is definitely well trained having been able to slide her plate out from under her without her noticing. Oh, get real, she reprimanded herself, you were too busy staring at the Senator. “My life has been pretty much like yours. I chose to go to Texas A&M when I graduated high school, joined the reserves, graduated from college, joined the political arena, took over the company at

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my parents’ deaths three years ago.” The return of Hampton with the main course of a large hunk of steak with a baked potato, loaded with all the cholesterol one can imagine gave her a moment to stabilize her roiling emotions as she stared in appreciation at the feast. “A good Texas meal,” he grinned, digging into his steak. “Is it to your satisfaction?” She nodded as she admired the perfectly cooked meat, red with a just cool center, but not a single drop of blood. For several moments, silence reigned as the two enjoyed the meal, each lost in their own thoughts and enjoying the succulent meal. “I don’t agree with your policy on capital punishment,” Jesse broke the silence and tranquility of the meal. “I didn’t think you would,” he says. Being an anti-capital punishment advocate in the great state of Texas lent itself to intense criticism on that controversial topic. “However, capital punishment isn’t necessarily the best punishment.” Jesse paused to contemplate the juicy piece of beef speared on the end of her fork. “So, you think that the person who sent you the hand should be given a slap on the wrist?” “I believe that taking a human life deserves punishment, life without parole definitely, however, we are just as guilty of murder by taking the life of the criminal.” “I believe it is justice. An eye for an eye.” “We don’t castrate rapists.” “We should.” Andrew laughed and shook his head. “I don’t want to argue politics with you, Jesse. I would rather just enjoy a nice meal with a beautiful woman.” She paused, her fork frozen halfway to her mouth. His gaze locked with hers, as he wrapped his mouth sensually around a small slab of steak. An odd fluttering sensation tickled her stomach. Her breath caught in her throat. She broke eye contact and turned her attention to the spectacular meal in front of her, not sure what he meant by the comment he made, not really sure that she really wanted to

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know what he meant. The rest of the meal was enjoyed in companionable silence, neither side sure what there was to talk about, other than politics. The weather is always a safe topic, but it had been unseasonable mild recently and frankly, rather dull to structure a dinner conversation around.

*****

Andrew’s mind wasn’t on the safe conversation, though. He was used to the unobtrusive, and the occasional obtrusive, glances that were thrown his way. The young woman was totally different from the society girls and debutantes he was used to seeing at functions he attended. He knew something of the Walker family. They were a legend in the Texas Rangers, having served since the Rangers were formed. Drawing deeply into his memory, he recalled the minor media hubbub that occurred when Jessica Ann Walker was inducted into the Texas Rangers. The media hyped it as the “the fifth Walker” to become a Texas Ranger joining the countless other Walkers to wear the Ranger star. He remembered reading somewhere that the governor had even sent a letter to Captain Josiah Walker, thanking him and his family for their service. Jessica... Jesse, he corrected himself quickly, was vastly different from any of the other girls he dated. His usual date was a girl from a prominent family with professional aspirations. Or, he winced, the daughter of one of her mother’s friends from the country club that she managed to guilt him into dating. They were always well educated, well dressed, and well trained in social graces. It was a nice change to speak with someone who was so full of life, so uninhibited, so different from the women of his acquaintance Andrew had been shocked at the transformation when they had talked about Sanchez’s arrest. A delighted smile had lit up her face. He knew she was an attractive woman, any able bodied man would have known that, though he also knew that most men would be rather intimidated by her tough exterior. He had smothered a smile when he had surreptitiously spied Jesse staring in confusion at the

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assortment of silverware that had been placed in front of her. It was obvious that the wheels in her head churned as she tried to figure out what some of the extra forks, knives, and spoons were for. “I’ll walk you to your room,” he said after the last of the delicious and sinful dessert of chocolate cake topped with a dollop of rich vanilla ice cream was cleared away. She carefully placed her napkin on the placemat. “Actually, I am your bodyguard. I should be walking you to your room, Andrew. And I will be walking you to your room.” He was ready to object, but the objection was cut short by the look on her face. The look clearly said that she wasn’t going to listen to any objections. He nodded short and curt, as he stood. Pushing her chair away from the table, Jesse quickly stood up before he could do the Southern gentleman thing and pull the chair back for her. It was a nice, chivalrous thing to do, but entirely unnecessary for a modern young woman carrying a Sig Sauer, not to mention the .357 derringer she carried as a back up, and charged with his safety. They walked down the lushly appointed hallways, both entirely two aware of each other for an easy comfort level. After what seemed to be an interminable wandering of the massive mansion, they stopped in front of the large oak double doors that led to the master suite. “Good night.” Andrew took hold of the doorknob and swung the door open. Jesse nodded. “Good night.”

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CHAPTER SIX

“Ready to go?” He looked up from the bottom of the stairs, cell phone still plastered to his ear. He froze. He watched as she walked down the wide marble stairs wearing a clean pair of jeans, a denim shirt, and that ever-present silver Stetson firmly planted on her head. The gleaming star pinned proudly over her left breast with a quick draw holster perched jauntily at her hip. Her short red hair was still slightly damp, the riot of curls temporarily controlled by the dampness, a twinkle of amusement in her clear green eyes, and not a shred of make-up on her face. He had to admit that he never thought that such a casual look had ever been so appealing and so totally out of place in his office. She wore a bright smile on her face, a smile that was so bright that it must be false. “I am,” Andrew said when he managed to find his voice. He flipped his phone closed, dimly aware that he hadn’t said goodbye to Ana. “However, I don’t think that your choice of clothing is appropriate to the corporate office.” She surveyed his navy Armani suit complete with a steel gray shirt and matching steel gray silk tie, with a critical eye. “And what is wrong with what I am wearing, Regis?” “There is nothing wrong with what you are wearing... for a shoot out at the OK Corral. It is just not appropriate for an office setting. And that wasn’t very funny. I happen to think that Mr. Philben has very good fashion sense.” “You would,” she muttered uncharitably. “I go to work every day dressed like this.” “And when you have to testify in court?” “I wear a suit for the once or twice a month I am in court,” she grumbled. “And I suppose you want me to wear a suit every day to your office?” “That would be preferable,” he said with a wide grin. The indignant look on her face was almost

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amusing, if it were not so damn appealing. It was then that he realized that he wanted to kiss her, No, he did not just want to kiss her—he wanted to bring his mouth down onto that full pouty mouth, to slip his tongue inside of her warm mouth and dance a dance of passion. The realization made him start. Despite what some of the more risqué tabloids liked to say, he did not have this overwhelming need to have sex with every female that he met. Even more than that, he never had such an overwhelming desire to kiss a woman before. “I didn’t bring them with me.” The excuse, while sudden, was delivered just a little too fast, fast enough to make him think she was scrambling for an excuse. “Then we can stop by your place and get them.”

His grin spread wider at her outraged

expression. “Good thing that I happen to be the boss, I don’t have to be in at nine a.m.” Jesse’s mouth opened and snapped shut. The ride in the limo would have been excruciating for him, had she actually been sitting with him. However, out of a perverse adherence to the “rules”, she insisted on riding in the front with the driver, riding shotgun she had called it, as though he did not know what riding shotgun was. Regardless of how much money he may have, he was still a good ole’ Texas boy. It was obvious that she had lost one argument, over the clothing of course and she intended on winning the fight over her seat, but he argued anyway. Not because he really wanted to have her sit beside him. No, correction, he did want her to sit next to him, but he would be more than a little distracted and he had work to do. He chuckled as he watched the stock numbers roll across the computer screen. That girl had a stubborn streak the size of the Grand Canyon. Man, was it appealing. “Concentrate,” he berated himself. When she appeared in his office the previous day, the female Ranger had merely intrigued him, but now he could not seem to get his mind off her. Last night he had lain in his cold bed, a bed that he had never thought of as cold, even when it was empty of companionship. He had tossed and turned, unable to sleep, unable to stop thinking about her. Jesse Walker, Texas Ranger. Expelling a pent up breath, he shook the memory off, knowing what that line of thought would do to the cut of his suit. It would also be embarrassing to be caught in the limo at full

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staff. The slowing of the limo was a douse of cold water in his face. Her home was a townhouse in a newly renovated area of Houston. It was like all the other townhouses in the row, with the same red brick, white stoop, and one-car garage under what was probably the living room. Unlike many of the other homes that had their own little homey touches such as a flower box, or a cheerful flag heralding the arrival of summer fluttering from a wooden flagpole by the doorway, the unit the limousine stopped in front of was devoid of any decoration except for a small planter with a cheery bloom of red posies. The instant the vehicle stopped at the curb, she stepped out and opened his door with a flourish. Okay, maybe not a flourish more like the yank associated with controlled anger or annoyance. “Yes?” He had innocently looked up from his laptop computer, which had been sitting open in his lap as he checked the current stock prices on NASDAQ and the DOW, as well as the closing numbers on the Tokyo stock market. Fortunately, for him, the laptop hid the last evidence of his thoughts. “You know as well as I do that I can’t leave you in the car.” Her green eyes flashed with impatience. “Come on.” Placing his laptop on the seat next to him without bothering to shut it down, he obediently followed her. Her righteous annoyance amused him and, for some reason, he just wanted to continue to rile her. Why, he had no idea, since she was very lethal. The gun on her hip was a continuous reminder of that fact and he harbored no doubt that she could kick his ass in a straight out fight. “Nice flowers,” he commented. “My mother’s touch.” She peeked into the mailbox before pulling a small ring of keys from her pocket and opening the door, allowing him to enter before she did. The door opened to small entryway that led up to the living room by way of a short set of stairs. The room was furnished, amazingly enough, in a modern décor with a black leather couch and a steel glass topped coffee table. Black touchier lamps stood in the corners of the room. Dominating the wall across from the couch was a large screen television set, complete with all the amenities and state of the

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art stereo system. “Wait here,” she said impatiently as she headed for the bedroom, kicking off her shoes along the way. He had expected a more Southwestern décor, not the clean lines of modern décor.

The

incongruous mix was endearing for some reason. Poking his head around a corner, he saw that it led into a dining room furnished in the same style with a long black lacquer, glass topped table with comfortable black cloth chairs. A black Oriental screen flanked by a pair of large potted palms sat against the far wall. Normally, he was not this nosy, poking around a person’s house when he was instructed to sit and wait in the living room, but he had an insatiable desire to find out more about the conundrum that was Jessica Ann Walker. He would certainly be annoyed if he had found someone wandering around his house, poking into his business. “Find something interesting?” Her sarcastic voice sliced into his thoughts like a hot knife through butter. He started guiltily, as he was just about to stick his head into the modern kitchen that lead from the dining room. She raised an eyebrow as he spun around, with what was supposed to be a disarming smile on his face. By the look on her face it, unfortunately, had, fallen flat. “Just wandering.” She had dressed in a trim black pantsuit with a white turtleneck shirt, the silver star again pinned over the left breast. Buttoned at the waist, the jacket fitted perfectly accentuating the trim waist and perfectly rounded hips and the full, but not overwhelming bosom. Over her arm were two plastic dry cleaning bags protecting the suits that she was bringing with her. “Ready to go now?” He nodded, not sure he trusted his voice at the moment. Her usual casual mode of dress had hinted at the well-developed body underneath the denim, but the fitted suit displayed her assets perfectly. “Nice place you have here,” he stammered as he struggled to find his voice. “Thanks, ready to go?” She waited by the front door. She jerked her head towards the door in a gesture of impatience.

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“Yeah, you look great.” She smiled with pleasure. “You look good, too.”

*****

Jesse wondered if he took odd satisfaction in hearing that, as it was obvious she surprised him since he was gaping at her like a fish out of water. It was oddly appealing that the politician who was never without a pretty speech or the right turn of phrase was struck speechless by little ole’ her. The look on his face also wiped away the annoyance that she had been harboring ever since he forced her to change out of her comfortable work clothing into these uncomfortable and unflattering court clothes. She had muttered uncharitably the entire time it took her to fling open her closet doors and yank out one of the three suits she kept in her closet. Still muttering curses under her breath, she changed, pulling off her comfortable and well-worn denim jeans. She cursed his parentage as she pulled off her comfortable socks and replaced them with scratchy, tight pantyhose. The cursing expanded into his parents’ parentage as she noted the latticework of a run at the knees, put there the last time she had worn these hose and she had forgotten all about. On that day, she had left court and returned to work, not thinking that she would need to chase down a perp that afternoon. Of course, she forgot to count Mr. Murphy into the equation. Instead of spending a quiet afternoon in the office, researching an open case and flinging office supplies at Angelo, two morons decided to ruin her plans and rob a bank. The irony of it all was that it was a Wallis family owned bank branch. No, dumb and dumber couldn’t just give up when they were confronted by a couple of Rangers instead they ran for it. Her pantyhose took the brunt of the damage when she chased one of them down an alleyway and tackled him, effectively trashing a perfectly nice new pair of pantyhose. She really had been meaning to buy a new pair, she just didn’t have time and she only ruined them eight months ago. Next time she would make Angelo chase down the runners.

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Growling, she had pulled herself back to the task at hand, a task that she really didn’t relish, but she could and would do. She had worn much worse, and much less, on other assignments. In one really bad sting, she wore little more than underwear, high heels and a big smile in a strip bar while waiting for their target to show. At least this time, she would be covered. Shoving the skirt set that she had originally yanked out of the closet, she instead removed a pantsuit. The pants that she pulled on covered the run in the hose. Impatiently she worked the buttons on her shirt, cursing even more roundly when she ripped a button off the shirt in her rush to put it on. Being angry wasn’t helping, she thought as she took several deep breaths, calming herself. The suit jacket covered the missing button making her at least presentable. She grabbed her keys and slipped them into a pocket along with her wallet. Since she never bothered to carry a purse, she made certain that everything she wore, even her jogging shorts, had pockets. Picking up her weapon from where she placed it on the bureau, she slipped the holster back onto her waist.

The familiar weight of her weapon was a shield against the uncomfortable and

unfamiliar clothing she was forced to wear. Taking a couple more deep breaths, she shrugged it off. She reminded herself that she done worse in her years as an undercover cop and could handle living a few weeks in the lap of luxury. She had returned to the living room to find Mr. Wallis poking his gorgeous nose into her kitchen. The annoyance she had worked so hard to vanquish returned in spades when she discovered him poking his nose around her house but the look of sheepish delight on his face wiped it all away in an instant. And he complimented her. That idea almost made her blush as though she was a kid who had been kissed for the first time. Despite her aggravation at the invasion into her privacy, she did get a nice view of his mighty fine posterior and the perfectly fitted Armani suit that showed it off to its best advantage. Your job is to protect him, not to stare at his derriere, no matter that it is a wonderful derriere, she reminded herself sternly. God, she was a grown woman. More than that, she was a Texas Ranger, a member of one of the toughest and most respected law enforcement agencies in the world. Its not like

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she hasn’t seen everything, good and bad, the world had to offer. After all, she regularly posed as scum of the earth to catch the scum of the earth. Then again she had never exactly done the deed with a member of the opposite sex. That’s not to say that she had done it with a member of the same sex, either. Guess it was fair to remind herself that in that particular venue, she had not exactly gotten a lot of practice. “Here, let me help you with that.” His words slid through the pleasant haze that had settled over her to banish the dark cloud of annoyance that had been plaguing her all morning. He reached out and took her suits, wrapped in their protective plastic with the logo of the local dry cleaners. “Thanks.” She made the mistake of looking him in the eyes when she said that. There was a twinkle in them those deep blue eyes of his. The pleasure that flowed through her hit her senses with the same force as the Mexicans assaulting the Alamo. Like the Alamo, she had the feeling that despite putting up a good fight, she would eventually fall under the assault. Oh, well, at least she would enjoy herself while she was falling.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Oh, God, how wrong she was! She could die from this assault. Even more deadly than a shotgun at close range, was a fitted tuxedo from Armani. God that man knew how to dress. Prior to this assignment, Armani was a name bandied about by the rich and famous and featured on the movie award shows that no one confessed to watching. For the first time, she could truly appreciate why those who could afford it spent that kind of money on his designer wear. The lines were perfect, fitting his frame, and showing off the broad shoulders and lean body. She watched as he worked the large ballroom, the consummate politician schmoozing the big contributors, charming their wives, and flirting with their daughters. There were a disproportionate number of young, single women that attended this particular fundraiser. Most of them probably came to meet the scion of the Wallis clan, some willingly and others badgered into attending by their mothers. Of course, if he had a shoulder holster under that tux like James Bond, then that would be devastating to her defenses. She always had a weakness for a top of the line automatic pistol sheathed in a well-fitting shoulder holster, black preferably, though a brown holster would do in a pinch. It was a crazy turn-on, but it was her turn-on. Pulling her gaze away from him before a wistful sigh could escape her, she scanned the room gauging the threat level, a threat level that was next to nil with the number of security, from the Department of Public Safety to members of the United States Secret Service, not to mention a few armed rent-a-cops. A man, or woman, would have to be a total moron to attempt any sort of attack here. But then again, if the world were devoid of fools and morons, then she wouldn’t have a job. She leaned nonchalantly against the wall trying to look disinterested while being completely alert. There was no point in disguising that she was anything but a bodyguard as she was obviously not one of the privileged elite. She wore the standard uniform of an off-the-rack black suit, practical shoes, and a service pistol.

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At least she wasn’t wearing the hidden mike in the sleeve with the earpiece wire running discreetly up the back and into the ear that was usually a part of this type of assignment. “I heard you were playing babysitter.” Turning around, a grin spread over her face, even as she restrained the urge to give the familiar face a bear hug. She’d attended the police academy with Aristotle Bean and they were rookies together, commiserating at the bar after a bad day. She went on to the Texas Rangers and he went to the United States Secret Service. Even his name brought amusement to her. He had once confided that the reason he became a cop was in retaliation for the many times he was used as a punching bag in school. Back then he was a skinny, pimply-faced kid with a name that just screamed beat me up and take my lunch money. No one who knew him now would call him a skinny, pimply-face nerd. He had filled out very well in all the right places. Standing an even six feet tall he had a muscular physique that the black tux couldn’t hide. “You heard huh?” She raised an eyebrow at him, trying to look fierce and threatening, but the smile she couldn’t wipe away made her look comical. He laughed. “Yep. It’s already making its way through the law enforcement community of Texas. There are also bets on whether the Ice Queen would fall to his charms.” She winced. Just because a woman was career minded and a tough cop automatically made her an ice queen or a dyke. For some reason, she was never accused of being a dyke, maybe because her father and older brothers would have taken it personally and would have pounded the living daylights out of anyone who called her that, but she was certainly considered an ice queen. Even her brothers sometimes accused her of it in a down and dirty name calling session. Life just wasn’t fair, but she had made her career choice before she could walk and she enjoyed her job and she was damn good at it. The chauvinistic and antiquated ideas that most of her colleagues held wouldn’t stop her from doing what she enjoyed. It just made it next to impossible to get a date. But she held out hope that one day hell would freeze over and she would find the perfect man. “And how much do you have down?”

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“Twenty bucks that you don’t fall for him,” he grinned. “So, don’t disappoint me.” “Jerk,” she tossed back without malice. “You love me and you know it,” he chuckled. “Nice suit. You should do it more often. Makes you look respectable.” She sent him a withering look before they lapsed into companionable silence. Now was not the time to play catch up. They turned their attention back to the gathering, doing an automatic scan of the room to locate the men they were here to protect. “So, who’re you on?” “Senator Paulson,” he answered. “A real dick.’ Laughing, she gently punched his arm, “And that is why I refused to join the Secret Service when you wanted me to go with you. I don’t think there is a politician out there that I would take a bullet for.” “I thought it was because you had a long-standing family tradition.” “That too,” she shrugged. “Sorry about your father, by the way, he was a good person and a great Ranger.” “Thanks.” The answer was short. Even though her father, her hero, the man who could move the earth, was murdered more than a year ago, it still hurt and a tear threatened to sneak into her eyes. She sniffed and concentrated on keeping her emotions at bay. “Hey, sorry,” Aristotle said sympathetically. He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “I know he was your hero. Hell, I think he was a hero to most of the cops in Texas. He is certainly a legend.” She smiled wryly. That much was true. The Walker family was a legend in law enforcement and it was hell living up to the reputation. While Walkers have been Rangers since the Rangers were nothing more than a group of ranchers and mercenaries protecting the vastness of Texas, she was the first female Walker to become a Texas Ranger. Aristotle knew he had shoved a foot in his mouth and wedged it there and his face reflected the chagrin. She had to take pity on him. He truly looked pitiful. “It’s okay. I’ve had some time to acclimate myself to the fact that he is gone and I have to accept that.” There wasn’t much left to say as they watched their charges mix and mingle in the crowd lapsing

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into a companionable silence. At least the thoughts of Andrew all wrapped up in that perfectly cut tuxedo had been banished from her mind—for a millisecond. “So, how are we doing?” Andrew asked casually sidling up beside the two officers, a glass of champagne held casually in his hand. If he were an assassin, they would both be dead, she thought with a mental kick to the head. God knew that it was entirely his fault that she was distracted, he and his perfectly fitted tuxedo. Never once in her career had she been this distracted from her goal and her job. That was what made her such a successful cop. She was goal-orientated, always keeping her eye on the ball, never letting loose, and always getting her man. Except this time, the man she wanted to get was the man who she needed to protect. “Fine,” she muttered through gritted teeth. Maybe it wasn’t fair of her to take it out on him, but damn it, it was a hell of a lot easier to swallow than to think she was actually lusting after the man. The man she was supposed to protect. It was a fact that she couldn’t allow herself forget. An amused smile lit his face as he gestured to Aristotle with his champagne glass. “So, are you going to introduce me to your friend?” “Aristotle Bean, Secret Service.” The agent didn’t wait for Jesse to introduce him. “I’m the point man for Senator Paulson.” “Pleased to meet you, Agent Bean.” If he was amused at the name, as most people were, he did a good job of keeping it to himself. “Are you enjoying yourself, Jesse?” “I am on duty, Senator.” He smiled indulgently, “I didn’t ask if you were on duty. I asked if you were enjoying yourself.” “This is a magnificent party,” Jesse looked around at the elegant black tuxedos and the chic designer gowns complemented by glittering jewels. “Do you do this often?”

*****

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Magnificent. Now that was one way to describe the scene in front of him and he was not talking about the party. He could not take his mind, or his eyes, off the young woman standing in front of him. She was not dressed in a sophisticated designer gown, glittering diamonds and emeralds that matched her eyes did not adorn her neck or ears and her hair was not styled to a military precision by a designer named Pierre. Instead, she stood out amongst the glitter in her obviously off the rack black suit and white silk shirt. She wore no jewelry to clutter up the outfit and no make-up covered the flawless skin on her face. The butt of her service weapon that occasionally peeked out from beneath the jacket, God help him, teased his senses. Big guns were supposed to be a phallic symbol, the butt of jokes for men and a source of excitement for women, but, what did it mean when it was carried on a woman and exciting to a man? “Too often for my taste.” He shrugged. “But it comes with the territory. Would you like to dance?” He knew he should not be asking. He knew she would refuse his request, but it just slipped out. A lot of things have been slipping out lately. He was never one to get that tongue-tied, heart pounding, distracted, foggy-minded feeling when in the company of a beautiful woman and he had certainly been in the company of plenty of attractive sexy young women. “I am on duty, Senator,” she repeated. “You are supposed to be guarding me, Jesse. You can’t get much closer than by dancing with me.” She stood there. He could see the war that was raging inside of her. She wanted to dance with him, but duty, and perhaps more than a tad bit of fear, battled with desire. He smiled as he watched the battle, wondering which side would win the war. He certainly hoped that his side came out of the skirmish the victor. Of course, even if his side lost, this was merely a battle. Who won the war was what is important. A surprising wave of anxiety washed over him as he waited. He scanned her face, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was the outcome. Much to his frustration, her face gave no hint of her intentions.

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“I don’t think that would be a good idea, Senator,” she said finally after an interminable silence. He felt as though he had been kicked in the stomach. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he knew the likelihood was that she would refuse his request, however, he had viciously and without conscience dropkicked that thought into the deepest recesses of his mind. Now that ugly thought came back to the surface with a vengeance that knew no bounds. “Why not?” He persisted. He knew what the answer would be, but he had often been accused of being stubborn as a mule. He was going to make that not-so-lovable quality pay off for him this time. She stared at him as though he had grown an extra head, or at the very least, as though he was a complete moron. “I said I was on duty, Senator.” He loved the way she emphasized every word and drew out every syllable, making her Texas drawl even more pronounced. “I heard you the first time, Jesse. And didn’t we agree that you would call me Andrew?” “Yes, Senator, however, it would be inappropriate at this time.” “Don’t you think that she should dance with me, Agent Bean?” He did not like the way she emphasized the word senator. So, he turned his attention to the other man, who up until this moment had been trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, while still remaining a fly on the wall. “Sure, she should dance with you,” he said, a big grin on his face. Aristotle avoided looking at Jesse. He was rewarded with a sharp, stinging punch to the arm. Even with the pain in his arm, the smile never left his face. It was well worth a stinging punch to rattle Jesse. Besides, despite his bet, he wanted her to be happy. “See.” Andrew returned his attention to his quarry. “Your cohort says it would be okay to date me.” “And he also thought that eating a green potato chip would kill him,” she retorted angrily. “That shows what he knows.” “I did not!” Aristotle protested vehemently. “Yes, you did,” she retorted without looking at her friend.

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“So, are you going to dance with me?” Andrew persisted. “No!” She threw up her arms. “Are you going to keep asking?” “Yep,” he replied with amused sincerity.

*****

She stared at him in exasperation. This can’t be happening to her. Her life was once so simple, go undercover, buy some drugs, bust the bad guys, and get into the occasional gunfight. This being pursued thing was, well, nice, but not on the job! She needed to concentrate on her work and not to mention propriety. She was not supposed to be dancing with her charge. Aristotle, the traitor, wasn’t being any help, even though if she fell to Andrew’s charms, he would lose twenty bucks. Maybe she could slip some hemlock into his water. Oh, wait, that was Socrates. Close enough. “So, are you going to dance with me?” “No.” He sighed melodramatically, and turned towards Aristotle, favoring him with a pair of sad puppy eyes. “She won’t dance with me.” “She would never dance with me, either.” He grinned. She threw up her hands in exasperation. “Fine, if I dance with you will you stop?” “Yes.” “Fine, I will dance one dance with you.” He smiled and took her hand, leading her onto the dance floor. His arms wrapped around her as he slowly began to move to the music. Jesse tried to keep an appropriate distance between their swaying bodies, but she felt herself moving towards him, moving closer until their bodies were touching. Sparks of electricity shot up between them, the heat threatened to burn them right through their clothing. Her eyes went wide as she felt the hardness between his legs, a hardness that the Italian silk did nothing to hide. If anything the perfectly cut and fitted fabric accentuated it. At least he had the

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good grace to look sheepish at his inability to control his desire. But damn, that sheepish grin made him more desirable, giving him a schoolboy caught with his hands in the cookie jar look. A look that was simply irresistible. Caught up in the sensation of being held in his arms, time fell away as she floated on a cloud. The music stopped. Couples around them broke apart and stood, shoulder-to-shoulder, clapping at the wonderful job the band did. Some couples began to leave the floor. He continued to hold her in his arms. He looked down at her, a smile playing about his lips. Her heart flip-flopped as he smiled down at her. Horror flashed across her face as she noticed that for the first time that the floor was empty, as the band had left to take their break. All eyes stared at the two of them, still standing on the floor, still wrapped in each other’s embrace. “Shhhhh. It will be all right,” he said softly into her hair. She didn’t say anything. She just pulled away from him, hoping to hide the redness creeping up her face slowly. He sensed her discomfit and moved away, back to schmoozing the crowd while she watched from her place against the wall, a memory that she would treasure forever.

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CHAPTER EIGHT

The next week passed without incident... unless one counted extreme boredom as an incident. Or more like extreme boredom interspersed with moments of intense excitement. Despite what her brothers’ have said over the years, Jesse was not immune to a well-shaped physique, a dashing smile, and the occasional twinkle of appreciation in a man’s eye when he sees someone that he likes, especially when that someone was her. Well, one always dreams about finding Prince Charming, and experience proved that dreams rarely came true, no matter what the romance novels say. The last woman who found her Prince Charming was Cinderella and she sure as heck wasn’t Cinderella. Of course, all the girls in the romance novels found their perfect guys, their soul mates. No one knew about her obsession for romance novels that she devoured on a regular basis. She hid them beneath her bed so that when one of her nosy brothers visited, they wouldn’t find them. Even thinking about it made her shudder in fear. That was just what she needed, her brothers teasing her about her romantic heart. It wasn’t easy being a tough as nails Ranger when, underneath it all, she was nothing more than a romantic fool. A romantic fool who has accepted the fact she would never find eternal love with the man of her dreams. Andrew Wallis was certainly the epitome of a romance book hero and way out of her league. Her dance with him left her with a pounding heart and sweaty palms. More than a week later she was still obsessing about the dance. For a moment, okay, more than a moment, she really thought she had the chance to live a romance novel. The gorgeous rich state senator meets the plain Jane cop protecting him from a dangerous stalker. But then again, that was never the plot of a romance novel. The guy was always the cop offering the girl protection. And then the girl falls in love with the ruggedness of the cop and the cop with the spunky girl who needs him. But who in Sam Hill was going to fall in love with a Texas Ranger with nothing to offer except her no-nonsense, “One Riot, One Ranger,” “always gets her man”

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attitude? She couldn’t get a simple guy. What made her think she could get the most eligible man in America? She leaned back in her chair with a sigh. She would always have to admire Wallis from afar, like every other red-blooded American female. That had been drummed into her head during one of the longest evenings in her life this week. That she managed to survive without shooting herself should certainly count as the successful completion of one of the three tests of sainthood. Julia Whitmore, “Muffy” as Jesse quickly dubbed the woman with the age old and well-used nickname, was the typical society girl with a degree in law. Despite that degree from an Ivy League university, one sentence out of ten that came out of Muffy’s mouth was logical and intuitive, the rest, as her father would say, was total fluff brain. Muffy’s father, Edward, is chairman of the Texas Democratic Party and an oil baron to boot. Her mother, Nancy, came from an old ranching family and was a Daughter of the American Revolution, seven times over. She was the perfect woman for the most eligible bachelor in the galaxy, Jesse sighed wistfully. She knew she couldn’t compare to the tall, leggy blonde beauty of Julie Whitmore. Muffy met Andrew at Le Cirque, an exclusive French restaurant located in the center of Houston. Being Andrew’s twenty-four/seven bodyguard, she was required to accompany him. Of course, she could have not even been present for all the attention either of them paid her—especially Muffy. Then again, what did she expect? Bodyguards are supposed to be invisible, not to socialize. Jesse snorted as she remembered that when Andrew introduced her, Muffy had acknowledged her presence with little more than a nod and a patronizing comment. “So, this is your little bodyguard.” The patronizing smile pasted on the blonde’s perfectly made up face made Jesse want to wipe it off for her with a well-placed punch. “Mummy said something about you getting some protection. It’s just horrid that someone is stalking you.” Little bodyguard, who the hell did the little witch think she was? God’s gift to Texas? No, she probably thought herself God’s gift to the world.

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Who the hell did she think she was kidding? Andrew, Mr. Most Eligible, belonged with a girl like that, a girl with a wealthy society family, who went to all the best schools—the type of girl that would make Andrew a perfect political wife. Of course, if her father were here, he would remind her that she was as good, if not better, then any of them! After all, a Walker could be traced back to the Alamo, where they fought alongside the luminaries in Texas history. It was bad enough to have to sit alone at the bar nursing a soda while on guard. It was bad enough that several men, one stop from falling down drunk had hit on her. But it was absolute torture having to watch Muffy giggle and touch his hand in a most sophisticated and nauseating way. To add to the torture, the restaurant served the best in Nouveau French Cuisine, and Jesse had been raised a good Texas female with a like for steak and potatoes. Not to say that one couldn’t get good steak in this joint—if one liked their steak paper thin and smothered in some sort of brown sauce dotted with mushrooms. The potatoes were excellent, tender baby red potatoes in a mild butter and chives sauce, except that there were only two stingy little potatoes on the plate. Jesse had given herself a mental pat on the back as she sat through the evening without glowering at the happy couple or heading to the bathroom to pray to the porcelain goddess. With a mental groan at the memory, she snapped her mind back to the present, surveying the waiting area that she sat in. Andrew had told her that it was designed to make a person feel comfortable and it certainly achieved its objective. Someone should congratulate the designer. The chair she had made her home for the past week was plush and overstuffed. Her eyes made contact with the efficient personal assistant sitting at her desk. The chilling look in the woman’s blue eyes sent a shiver up Jesse’s spine. However, it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Not trusting her own eyes, Jesse looked quickly back at Ana, but the woman’s eyes only portrayed the efficient, caring woman that she had a reputation of being. It must have been my overactive imagination, Jesse shook off the odd feeling of uneasiness that grabbed her. The imperious ringing of the telephone demanded Ana’s attention.

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Her ear perked as she heard Ana announce to Andrew that Julie Whitmore was on the phone. She shook her head and pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed a familiar number. “Hey, Angelo. How was Disney World?” “Great!” He launched into an animated discussion of the wonders of Mouseworld. Thankfully, he sounded calm and rested, quite unlike his mood when he was informed of her new assignment. She believed his exact words were, “What, has the Captain gone senile?” That he was perturbed was a kind way of putting it. “So, how is life among the rich and famous?” “Mind-numbingly dull.” She chuckled, still remembering his outraged expression, though his agitation was mitigated by his upcoming trip to Disney World. “So, have you found anything?” “Yeah, we are pretty certain that Jeannine Marshall was killed near Gepetto’s Italian Eatery on Fourth. One of the teenagers who working there took out the trash and noticed that there was something red splattered on the wall of the building. He didn’t think anything of it, figuring it was paint or something equally innocuous, until the local PD canvassed the area. The restaurant is less than a block from her house.” Jesse could hear him rustling paper in the background. She looked oddly at Ana as she heard her tell Ms. Whitmore that Mr. Wallis was in a meeting. That was odd. No one said anything about a meeting. “Preliminary results indicate that the blood is Marshall’s. We are still waiting for a DNA confirmation.” “Anything else?” She turned her attention back to the conversation at hand. There was more shuffling of paper as he said apologetically, “The crime scene guys have been through there with a fine toothed comb, but, we didn’t find the scene until the middle of this week and she has been dead for a good week by then. The scene is so contaminated that they don’t hold much hope in finding anything usable.” Rubbing her temple between her thumb and forefinger, she sighed, feeling the beginnings of a

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headache coming on. “And the kid who saw the splatter didn’t think to report the blood?” “Kid didn’t think anything of it. Hey, don’t blame me. He really thought that it was some sort of paint or something. He said other than the splatter, there was nothing to indicate a murder had occurred. There is one thing although. One of the forensics guys noticed that she was missing an earring. No one thought much of it because we figured that it was lost during the actual act. But we haven’t seen hide nor hair of it at the scene. So, either some transient picked it up, or...” “Or, our boy took a trophy,” she finished the thought.

*****

“Julie Whitmore is on line two,” Ana’s voice came through the intercom on his desk phone. Andrew winced. “Tell her I am in a meeting.” “Yes, sir.” Ana’s voice was thick with disapproval. He knew that she hated the calls from his girlfriends throughout the day, and, even worse, she hated helping him dodge the persistent ones. He surveyed the view of Houston through the wall of windows. Even from this distance he could see the hustle and bustle of the street below. People hurried from place to place, going about their business—business that he should be doing but could not concentrate upon.

Instead, his mind

continually wandered to the red-haired girl, no woman, she was definitely a woman, sitting in his outer office. He had spent the week dodging calls from blonde and perfect Julie. Blonde and perfect Julie. The perfect date. The perfect debutante. The perfect everything. But he didn’t want her. He wanted Jesse. The beautiful, enchanting redhead wearing the black pantsuit with the rough and tumble Stetson hat that was as much part of the uniform of the Texas Rangers as the infamous star. “And bitching about it,” he chuckled to the empty office. He leaned back in the chair, allowing his mind to wander. He had a date with Ms. Julie Whitmore this past week. He was somewhat self-conscious since Jesse had accompanied them. The dinner had gone well, for the most part.

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He had taken Julie to Le Cirque, a romantic, exclusive restaurant and, as usual, he had reserved his special table in a coveted, quiet corner of the busy restaurant. He had ordered a bottle of cabernet sauvignon, arranged for a small bouquet of red roses to be waiting at the table with a spectacular dinner. There was only one small problem with the entire evening—Jessica Ann Walker. He could not get his mind off of her. He tried to keep his mind and attention to the conversation at hand but his attention continued to drift to where his bodyguard sat, watching, as uncomfortable as he was. Except she was not hiding her discomfort nearly as well as he was. His mind had been on the dance they shared that long week ago. Andrew did not think that Jesse could be that soft in his arms. Her reputation was one of a no-nonsense crime fighter that did not lend itself to soft curves in all the right places. He had run his hands up her back, feeling the coarse polyester beneath his touch. Polyester. Silks and satins were sexy, not polyester. Until now that is. He wondered how indignant she would be if he bought her a new suit. A black suit with a skirt made of silk and perfectly fitted to her athletic frame. He would have laughed if he had not been mortified by the stiffness he was feeling between his legs, both then and now. A stiffness there was no way Jesse could not have felt pressing up against her at the time. He felt his cheeks turning red, like an untried schoolboy. As usual, she rode shotgun in the limousine on the return home. The security screen between the driver’s compartment and the back of the limousine was closed, as it usually was after a romantic dinner at an exclusive restaurant. Julie’s stockinged foot had slid up his leg in a blatant invitation. He had smiled as he leaned back in the well-cushioned seat. Reaching out, he pulled the beautiful blonde onto his lap, teasing her lips with her own. His actions were wrong and he knew it. He was neither the romantic hero nor the promiscuous letch that the tabloids painted him to be. He had certainly had his share of women in his time, though not the dramatic numbers that he had been linked with. All through the evening, his mind had wandered. Even as he stroked Julie’s back, bared by the dramatic plunge on the back of her dress, his sex had stirred beneath her firm, wriggling buttocks. He needed it. He knew he needed it. It would excise the desire he was starting to feel for the

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Texas Ranger. Even as he buried his face into the hollow at the base of her throat and a moan ripped out of the throat of his companion, the image of Jesse Walker stole into his consciousness. A groan ripped out of his throat as he felt his rigid manhood wilt. It knew what it wanted, and it did not want the luscious blonde tantalizing it with her buttocks. It wanted the redhead sitting in the front seat. Julie’s buttocks stopped wiggling as she pulled away from him, a questioning look on her face. “What’s wrong, Andrew?” The question had practically been asked in a purr. It should have made him rock hard, but this time there was no reaction, not even a little interest, not even the tiniest amount of firmness. He wanted to call the big guy a traitor, but in his heart he knew that this liaison on the first date in the back of a limo wasn’t his style. Despite it being exactly what some tabloids tried to paint him as, he could not do it. Though it did amuse him that the same tabloids that painted him a letch and a retch were the same ones that romanticized him as the new John-John. He knew that this attempt at seduction and intimacy was a defense against the strong feelings he was beginning to feel towards Jesse. He expelled a gusty sigh and set her gently, but firmly onto the seat next to him. If she had been upset, Julie did a very good job of hiding it and she must have forgiven him as she was calling continuously. “Mr. Wallis, Ms. Whitmore is on the phone for you, again,” his assistant’s impatient tone cut into his thoughts. She hated to have one of his “women” calling constantly. “Put her through.” Much as he did not want to speak to her, some things could not be put off, especially if he wanted to keep his assistant. “I have been trying to call you for the last two days,” she said petulantly. She had not even given him a chance to greet her. Even from his office he could see the sweet, little, and totally practiced, pout that she would be wearing as she said it. The pout was one that could make any normal man fall at her feet instantly. It was also the pout that was taught to every single debutante of his class. He had never been a normal man and, more so now than ever, the practiced cajoling that was

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innate in the women that he dated had no effect on his judgment or senses. Of course, while she was pouting at him over the phone, she would probably be leaning back in the burgundy leather chair in her spacious corner office, examining her nails while she looked out over the city. A young attorney is expected to put in her dues in a small cramped office with a miniscule window, if there was one at all. It was also a rite of passage to share a secretary with at least two other junior associates. He himself had put in his time. However, there were definite advantages to being the boss’ daughter and heir apparent in the Whitmore Corporation. “It’s been a hectic couple of days, Julie. You know meeting after meeting after meeting.” Though his tone was soothing, mentally he was sighing, wondering how much longer this was going to take. “So, when were you planning on returning my call?” The petulance was still in her voice, this time mixed with even more irritability. She did not like his response, that was obvious to even the most obtuse of individuals and he had never been accused of being obtuse. “As soon as I could, darling. But with everything that has been happening lately, I’ve been more forgetful.” “Mummy is having a dinner party next Thursday. We would like you to be there.” It was an olive branch she was holding out to him. He knew how the game was played. She would never come out and say she forgave him as it would be a horrible breach of dating etiquette, but she could certainly invite him to dinner. The invitation was to be taken as a sign of forgiveness. One date and she was already bringing him home to meet the parents. He checked his schedule on his computer.

Thursday was two days away and it was,

unfortunately, free. “What time?” “Six o’clock for cocktails,” she said. His mind was set to make up an excuse, but his conscience took over as he gave his assent. He was still kicking himself when he hung up the phone several minutes later still feeling numb from the senseless conversation they had.

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CHAPTER NINE

Julie Whitmore was not a happy camper. She had been mad for the past three blocks, since she got out of the cab, slamming the door behind her and leaving her date staring bewildered after her. They had not even had dinner. The reprobate picked her up and, next thing you know, he had his hands all over her and wanted more than she was going to give ten minutes into a blind date. This was the last time she would allow her mother to set her up with one of her bridge club friend’s son. Maybe it was not his fault. She knew she looked great in the little black dress that clung to her willowy figure and black patent leather high heels adorned with a jaunty little black bow. There was a reason she bought the dress and shoes and looking bad in them wasn’t it. Her blonde hair was cut so that it just brushed her shoulders and maintained by bi-weekly trips to the salon. She tucked a wayward strand of hair back with her perfectly manicured hand painted with a shell pink frost. He probably could not help himself, she thought as she dug through her bag for her keys. She shrieked as someone slipped up behind her. She spun and breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized her visitor. “Oh, hi,” she said as her heartbeat returned to something resembling normal. A sound of triumph signaled the discovery of her quarry, her keys that had managed to wedge themselves in between two pages of her Day Planner. “Are you here to see me?” “Yes.” “Well, come on up,” she stuck her key in the lock and turned it. The dim light from the doorway lamp barely caught the glint of the long bladed knife that the shadow pulled from a coat pocket. The sharpened edge slid effortlessly between her ribs. She screamed as the pain sliced through her. Shock was in her as her body was caught before she could slide down to the cold marble floor.

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She watched as her attacker turned the key in the lock. She whimpered as her attacker pulled her across the floor, leaving a trail of blood. The pain was excruciating. A groan slipped from her throat as she dropped onto the floor of the storage room. Now she knew she was going to die. The pool of blood that was spreading across the clean white floor was clear indication of that. “Why?” She managed to croak out before screaming in pain again as the silver dangling earrings she wore was ripped from her ears. “Because he loves you.”

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CHAPTER TEN

“When did it happen?” Jesse asked, pulling out a notepad. “She was reported missing by her mother yesterday.” Adam almost growled in frustration. “She reported it to the Houston PD and I was just informed this morning.” “But it fits the M.O. and no body has been found yet.” And it was almost a week to the day after her date with Andrew, Jesse noted. Andrew was supposed to be going to her parents’ home for dinner tonight. She had hoped that the connection wasn’t there. That it was all a mistake, but it looked more and more like something more menacing than a simple threat. “No, the body hasn’t. We had one of our people go over the missing persons reports and there hasn’t been anyone else missing that fit the M.O. Julie Whitmore is probably only the second victim. Hell, if it wasn’t for the love gift sent to Senator Wallis, we wouldn’t even have this much.” Papers rustled as Adam shifted the piles on his desk. “The disturbing thing is that about two days ago the superintendent in her building found a blood trail leading from the entryway into the building. The trail ended in the laundry room. It bothered him, so he called the police. They made a cursory check of the building, but nothing turned up. They filed a report and forgot about it. No one connected it until now. Angelo is out there checking it out. Maybe we’ll get lucky and she just ran off to the Bahamas with her fling of the week.” “Her fling of the week happens to be Andrew Wallis.” She was trying to be professional by keeping her tone of voice professional, but more than a small trace of jealousy slipped into her voice. “And I know that she has been calling here pretty consistently.” “You okay, sis?” Concern for his sister’s odd tone of voice overrode the protocol of a business discussion. A protocol he always tried to maintain. He was seventeen years old by the time she was born and learned early on to read the signs when something was wrong.

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“I’m fine, why?” “Because you sound... annoyed. Are you jealous?” Adam’s feet dropped with a thud that could be heard clearly over the phone. “No, I am not jealous,” Jesse snapped. “Let me know if there is anything new.” “Jesse...” The click of the phone in his ear signaled that she was no longer listening to her older brother. ***** Jesse is in lust. Adam laughed to himself. His little sister is normal. Not that he was worried about her lack of a social life. No, not at all. It was about frickin’ time that she found someone. Hopefully, the recipient of her lust is male. Jesse is in lust with Andrew Wallis. Andrew Wallis. That thought sobered him quickly. While Wallis was a spectacular statesman and a generous philanthropist, according to reports, he also left a string of broken hearts behind him. Despite Jesse’s tough outward appearance and no-nonsense career, her knowledge of men was limited. Nonexistent was more like it. Even worse, it was her job to protect him. It was against all common sense, not to mention the unwritten code, to fall in love with the man whose safety you were ensuring. He reached out and grabbed the phone, fingers dialing a well-used number. “Daniel, you won’t believe this but I think our sister is in love.” “What?” He knew Daniel was distracted. His abrupt greeting when the phone attested to that. “Our...sister... is... in... love.” He repeated slowly. “With whom?” The disbelief in his brother’s voice made him chuckle. “Andrew Wallis.” “What?”

*****

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Even as the news spread like wildfire through her brothers, Jesse thought over what her brother had said. Jealous, could she really be jealous about someone that Andrew... Senator Wallis, she quickly corrected herself, was seeing? Jealous. She isn’t jealous. She was not jealous. No, she was just as she always was. Calm, cool, collected, and her head not turned by a pretty face. Unfortunately, she had no choice but to face the pretty face. To tell him that another of his dates was dead. She glanced at Ana, the proverbial lioness at the gate. With barely a nod to the assistant, she knocked quietly on Andrew’s door before entering the office. Andrew was sitting in the high-backed chair, back to the door, staring through the large windows at the Houston skyline, animatedly discussing the current NASDAQ numbers. Softly, she closed the door behind her, waiting for him to notice that she was there. “I’ll call you back.” He hung up the phone with minimal muss. Turning his chair around to face her, he raised an eyebrow. “What’s up, Jesse?” “Julia Whitmore is missing.” She walked forward, stopping in front of his desk. Andrew opened his mouth to reply, but words refused to form themselves. His shock was overpowering. Just last week he had taken her out for dinner and he was supposed to be at her parents’ for dinner tonight. “When?” “Her mother reported her missing yesterday. The superintendent of her building found a blood trail in the building, but no body.” “It’s the same person isn’t it? The one who killed Jeannine?” “We believe so.” “So, it is my fault. Whoever is killing these girls is out to harm me.” Jesse tried to stay professional. She was a professional, a Texas Ranger who knew better than to have feelings for the man she was assigned to protect. But the shock and disbelief on his face was overpowering and the intense need to comfort him that she felt warred with her practical nature. She

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moved across the desk to take his hands in hers, dropping to her knees in front of him. “We don’t know that, Andrew. Maybe she just decided she needed some time away so, she took off for a few days.” The sudden contact of her flesh to his sent a shock through her body. She watched as his eyes took on a languid feel. Her heart skipped a beat. Leaning forward he gently touched his lips to hers. Jesse froze in amazement, however, her eyes slowly closed of their own volition. Even as her mouth opened to his, her mind screamed that this is the wrong thing to do, but her heart fought back, knowing it was right. It was so very right in every possible way. His arm slipped around her waist, drawing her closer to him, his other hand stroking the softness of her red hair. Her body arched to mold with his. Slowly they drew apart, their bodies still locked in a tight embrace. The desire in Andrew’s eyes mirrored the want in Jesse’s, as they stayed frozen in time and place. Nothing else in the world mattered, except for the emotions shining their eyes, the waves of desire in the pits of their stomach, and the heat radiating from their joined flesh. Not to be outdone and not ready to have the intimate moment end, Jesse reached out, her fingers intertwining in Andrew’s hair, pulling his mouth down to meet her mouth. The world again exploded in a shower of emotion, as Jesse and Andrew joined hungry lips, their tongues dancing an age-old dance of desire. Were it not for Andrew’s strong hands caressing her back and supporting her, Jesse had no doubt that she would sink to the ground, her body a lump of gelatin. “We can’t do this.”

Her breath coming in gasps, Jesse pulled away regret slowing her

withdrawal. “I want you, you want me. We are two consenting adults.” His breath was also coming in fast, uneven breaths. “But I am on duty. My job is to protect you.” Oh, God, how easy it would be to just grab him here and now. There was a perfectly huge desk and they could make love looking out over the beautiful Houston skyline. She sighed deeply, trying to take control of herself, she can’t. Duty calls. Always duty calls.

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Slowly, she drew away, pulling out of the strength and warmth of his embrace. She stood, slowly, cautiously, not really trusting her legs to support her. This couldn’t be happening to me, Jesse berated herself. That only happens in romances, legs going weak from a man’s kiss. Jesse walked away from Andrew, slowly and deliberately. She could feel his eyes on her back, following her, burning a hole between her deliberately rigid shoulder blades. She turned at a noise he made. She wanted to ask what was up, but she refrained from doing so. That would just open up a whole new can of worms. Well, not new, it was the same old can, but she wasn’t ready for a whole new onslaught. Taking another deep fortifying breath, she turned to look at Andrew, steeling her against the desire she knew she would see there. Surprise was almost her undoing. There was no desire; there was no sign that just a moment ago they shared something so unbelievably deep. There was just business. “We have no suspect at this time.” She brought the conversation back to where it deviated from its intended course, hiding the disappointment behind a professional demeanor. “However, there is a definite threat to you.” “I think there is more threat to the women I date.” He leaned back in his chair, his hands intertwined and folded on his flat stomach. Stop thinking like that! You have to stop reading those romances you keep hidden under the bed. Flat stomachs. Next thing you know, you will be commenting on his aristocratic nose. Come to think of it, his nose is rather aristocratic. Jesse mentally kicked herself, forcing her brain to get back on track. “Ultimately, Andrew, whoever the murderer is, he or she will target you. It is obvious that someone is doing this to get your attention and is probably in love with you. He or she is taking out the competition, so to speak.” “He?” He shuddered melodramatically. “She would be more like it.” “Hate to tell you this, Andrew, but you are number one pin-up boy amongst the homosexual crowd as well.” The look of shock on his face allowed a fit of laughter to bubble to the surface, despite her

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valiant attempt at holding it back. “I’m sorry, Andrew.” She struggled to speak through the laughter that just seemed to have a life of its own. “The look on your face was totally...” She broke off, as another fit of laughter overcame her. “I am so glad that you find me such a source of amusement, Jesse,” he commented. The laughter was almost under control when she made the mistake of looking up at him when he spoke to her. The look of amused indignation was again her downfall, as she was overcome by a fresh wave of laughter. “This is not getting us anywhere.” He raised an eyebrow at her amusement, not comprehending what was so amusing. “I’m sorry,” she hiccupped, trying to get the last of her amusement under control. “I’m fine. Amusement all gone.” She tried to keep a look of seriousness on her face, but, for some reason, the joy she was feeling just kept the amusement from being dampened. Is this what being in love feels like? Whoa, Jesse! Her mind slammed on the brakes as all amusement fled from her mind. Where the hell did that thought come from? Love? Never, lust, definitely. Who would not be in lust with that butt, that perfect chest, the sculpted face, the aristocratic nose. Okay, that is it. She officially lost it. She could just hear the call now. I am sorry, Captain Walker, you sister has been committed to a state mental facility due to obsession over an aristocratic nose.

*****

Andrew noticed the play of emotions on her face mirroring those that were roiling around inside of him. But he was better at keeping them hidden beneath a cool business exterior. Many years in politics taught him that.

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She was so alive, so different from the plastic Barbie dolls that thrived in his circles. The girls he dated were professional women who came from the best of families, professional women who would marry him for his position and money and throw elegant parties in the ballroom of his home. Parties, which were it not needed for his political survival, he would avoid like the proverbial plague. He smiled. Parties which Jesse would bring a breath of fresh air to with her openness. He turned his attention back to the object of his thoughts, standing on the other side of his desk, her face a mask of seriousness. “What do you suggest we do, Jesse?” He tried to bring back the civility of their conversation, not commenting on the breakdown just a few moments ago. He did not know what happened to him a few moments ago. One minute he was telling her that he was the cause of a serial killer’s killing spree and the next moment, the emerald pools of her eyes mesmerized him. He suddenly wanted to know if her lips were as soft as they promised to be. To find out if her lips would taste like the fruit juice she was drinking, and not the odd taste of lipstick. He knew that while she was assigned to protect him she would not allow herself to succumb to the pleasure and the desire again. At the same time, he knew that if he asked Adam Walker to assign another Ranger to him, she would never speak to him again. He snickered and then you would have to explain to her brother that you are lusting after his sister. “I will continue to be your bodyguard.” Jesse sat down. It was as though she had been hit with a spray of cold water in her face—a spray that came from the hose of a fire engine, and with just as much force. He had to admire her. She seemed as unaffected by the kiss they shared as he was affected. “I would be happier if you allowed a security team to be around you, however, Adam... “No, I would prefer that not happen.” He got up and walked over to stare out over the city. He stood, his hands clasped behind him as he looked out on the skyline. It was foolish this desire of his. It was obvious the killer was targeting his dates. Any sort of relationship with Jesse would put her at risk. Anyone close to him was in danger. That was a sobering thought.

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“I am not so vain as to think that I won my elections and became the golden boy of Texas by my intelligence and my stand on issues.” He turned to face her. “It was because of my looks, the football hero image, and the odd sort of romanticism of being in the Army Airborne.” All trace of humor fled from his eyes. “Having a phalanx of guards around me will destroy that image. Do you understand?” She almost flinched under the intensity of gaze, “I do, but I also think that you are putting your life in jeopardy. Is it worth it?” “Yes,” Andrew said simply. “Besides, I have you, don’t I?” “I am glad that you put so much faith in my abilities.” “Your two o’clock is here, Mr. Wallis.” Ana’s voice was a blast of reality that broke through the magical bond that had formed between the two of them this day. “Ummm, I’ll be waiting outside.” Jesse shifted uncomfortably, as reality slowly reasserted itself in her fantasy. Her face flushed with embarrassment. Andrew nodded not sure of what to say. Not sure if there was anything to say. He just watched her double-time it out the door, nodding briefly to the two men in business suits who were waiting to enter the inner sanctum, trying to hide the blush that came to her cheeks, a blush that she could hide from everyone but him.

*****

Thunk. The knife sank deep into the wall, embedding itself directly into the center of a newspaper photo of Andrew Wallis. “You belong to me.” It was said in the lightest of whispers, the sound was more than a little mad. Reaching out, a hand gently caressed the chiseled cheekbone forever frozen in time. A sigh of pleasure floated through the air.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

The morning traffic was a jumbled mess on the expressway from the Wallis building to Company A Texas Ranger Headquarters. Despite being several hours past rush hour, traffic was bumper to bumper. The stop and go traffic grated on Jesse’s already frayed nerves. The kiss that they shared yesterday was magical and totally wrong. She was his protector! Not one of his conquests! She is supposed to remain emotionally neutral lest it affect her work. Yet, for some odd reason she couldn’t do it. Is this what love felt like? Or was it just a case of unbridled lust? She slammed her palms in frustration against the steering wheel. “This is not supposed to be happening!” Seeing a slight break in traffic, she slid her red Mustang convertible, the one over-priced extravagance in her life, into the opening in front of a truck, and into a faster moving lane. Checking her watch, she cursed vehemently as she realized she was going to be late for her meeting with Adam. The conversation with her brother the night before when he requested to see her in his office this morning hadn’t been very pleasant. She hadn’t want to take a break from her assignment to take some half-assed meeting, but the two Rangers sent to replace her arrived promptly at the Wallis building at ten this morning to protect Andrew while she was gone, had left her very little choice. Andrew. Even the slightest thought of him brought a sigh to her lips and made her heart drum just a little faster. The most disturbing thing was the reaction in that private place between her legs, as her stomach clenched just a little and the want stirred deep in her soul. Last night they were polite—almost sickeningly so, it was as if the moment they shared had never occurred. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. That thought made him sound like a typical chauvinistic male. At least if he was that, she could have hated him and kicked herself for even being attracted to

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him! But he was solicitous, nice and wonderful. As though he truly was trying to hold back his own desire in order to accede to her wishes. She had roundly cursed all drivers on the road when the traffic finally broke. It has always been a mystery to her how traffic can come to a complete stop because one lousy BMW decided to break down—no, wait, expensive German cars never break down, they malfunctioned—on the shoulder and was currently in the process of being towed. She understood if there was a five-car pile-up with massive injuries, then there was a reason, morbid as it might be, to gape, but one car and one tow truck does not a spectacle make! At least she was out of that now. Just ten more minutes at a good clip and she would be at headquarters. In her peripheral vision, she saw a black Chevy Impala pull up beside her car. Her brain just barely registered the driver, a black mask disguised his features and black gloves covered his hands. As she dove under the cover of the car door, the driver pointed a rather nasty looking pistol at her, firing off two quick shots, smashing the driver’s side window and sending wicked shards of glass over her. The gunning of an engine was just enough warning for Jesse to grip the steering wheel tautly, as the Chevy slammed hard into the side of her small Mustang, crumpling in the passenger door with a sickening sound of twisting metal. Jesse fought with the steering wheel as her car careened towards the guardrail. Yanking herself into a sitting position, one more conducive to fighting with an out of control car, she saw the oncoming rail just in time to wrest the wheel to the right. The front corner of the little sports car hit with a sickening screech as Jesse twisted the wheel, the rail scraping along the side of her car. The screech of metal scraping on metal screamed in her ear, though she barely noticed it as she fought for control. She looked over at the other car, which was still alongside her as the driver pumped another two rounds into the car, forcing Jesse to duck down once again, though she maintained a death grip on the steering wheel, trying to keep it in control. The car shuddered again as the other vehicle slammed into the side Jesse’s vehicle, forcing it into

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the guardrail. This time, however, the other car didn’t give up the pressure, using its greater mass to force the smaller car along the rail. Sparks flew as the vehicle scraped along the metal rail, taking the paint off the flashy little vehicle and mangling the driver’s side of the car. The screeching of metal ended as the pressure from the second vehicle let up. Jesse lifted herself into a sitting position in time to see the ending of the guardrail. She braced herself as the Mustang careened down the side of the grass-covered embankment. The uneven route jolted her around like a rag doll barely held into the seat by the seat belt she wore. Her head smashed into the steering wheel as the now battered vehicle slammed to a stop in a ditch. Jesse weakly lifted her head as she tried to orient herself. The acrid scent of leaking gasoline spurred her into action as the hood of her beloved car burst into flames. Blindly she groped for the belt release, pushing down on the small red button and freeing the belt when she finally found it. Jesse forced the belt away from her body and struggled with the bent and twisted door. With strength borne from desperation, she kicked out with both feet propelling the door open. Free, she dove out of the car, staggering as far as she could from the burning wreckage. The car exploded in a shower of flames and burning metal, the force of the explosion flinging her to the ground. She pushed up onto her elbows, looking back at the burning wreck that was once her beloved little sports car. The sound of sirens drew her attention to the emergency vehicles gathering at the top of the embankment, drawn by the flurry of cell phone emergency calls to the state police regarding the dueling vehicles. Despite the desire to do nothing but lie facedown in the cool grass, Jesse had no choice but to force herself up from rich, fragrant earth. The heat from the burning wreckage beat on her back like a thousand suns burning her through her torn clothes. As she staggered up the embankment, two state patrol officers raced down their hands to shading their faces from the heat emanating from the flames. Reaching Jesse, one slipped his arm around her waist, supporting her while they made the climb up the steep embankment. The other followed close behind as a fire engine arrived at the scene.

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“Dispatch ten-fifty-two needed at...” The voice of the officer was droned out in the sudden rush of emergency vehicles and the firefighters. But Jesse dimly heard the call for an ambulance to their location. In a haze, she wondered who was hurt. It couldn’t be her. She was fine. Clarity shone through the haze, they were calling for help for her beloved Mustang. That was it. The officer sat her down inside the police car, pausing as he saw the weapon she wore at her hip. “Can you hear me, ma’am?” Murphy, her eyes focused on the identification tag on his uniform. “There is nothing wrong with my hearing, Officer Murphy. Though my head feels like a herd of buffalo stampeded through it.” She knew her voice reflected her annoyance, but she really didn’t care at this point. Now, she felt the mind-numbing pain. She reached a hand up to find and to stop the sledgehammer pounding stakes into her head. She wasn’t surprised to pull her hand away from her temple sticky with blood. Sighing, Jesse leaned back against the headrest. “Can you tell me who you are, ma’am?” The officer, well used to dealing with accident victims, did not allow her testy tone of voice to offend him. “Jesse Walker.” She took several deep breaths, trying to keep the nausea at bay. “Texas Ranger.” He was young enough to be impressed by the Texas Ranger moniker. Jesse studied him for several moments. She took the break to control the nausea that was creeping up her throat once again. His face still held the fresh-faced look that made him look like a child and his blue eyes still held a trusting innocence and hope that most veteran officers lost. His hair was in the military buzz cut popular with many male officers. God, was she ever that young and naïve? The aches in her bodies made her doubt that very much. The war was close to being won. The nausea was sounding retreat. She took a deep breath, satisfied that she had won the battle. Unfortunately, while she had won the battle, she had not won the war as the nausea fought back with a vengeance. Jesse weakly lifted her head, not wanting to continue to stare at the remains of her breakfast, now

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mixed with the rock and gravel oft found on the shoulder of an expressway. Her eyes focused blurrily on the female paramedic kneeling on the ground in front of her, carefully avoiding the eggs and bacon on the ground.

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CHAPTER TWELVE

“Walker!” Captain Adam Walker literally barked into the receiver of the phone. His sister was well over half an hour late and he was a busy man. Immediately after his unorthodox greeting, he winced at the phone, belatedly hoping that it was not one of his superiors on the phone. He looked around his office at the collection of men sitting or lounging against walls. The Walker brothers had gathered waiting for their baby sister to arrive. All the while driving him to distraction with questions about her relationship with Senator Wallis. “Captain Adam Walker?” The voice was almost unintelligible through the curtain of static so common with a cellular phone. It was even further deteriorated by the din created by the large number of emergency vehicles in the background. Walker growled under his breath, immediately classifying the caller as rookie. “Yes.” “Captain, this is Officer Boyington with the State Patrol. Your sister was involved in a car accident.” “What?” Walker rose abruptly, his arm reaching behind and grabbing his suit coat from the back of the chair. Daniel Walker, long described as the ‘calm one’ of the Walker brood, who had been casually resting in one of the two guest chairs, sat up ramrod straight, at the change in his brother’s tone of voice. Darkly handsome, like the rest of the Walker family, his clear green eyes gave truth to the saying that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Paired with the patrician nose from their mother’s side of the family, it was a deadly combination. A delicious combination that many women have fallen madly in love with, but have never been able to ensnare in the marriage net despite, as his sister so eloquently put it, his advanced age. “Your sister was in an accident, Captain. Her condition is being listed by the paramedics as

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critical.” The color drained out of Adam’s tanned face as he listened to the caller. His knees felt weak for as he steadied himself on the edge of his desk. “Where?” As Adam scribbled quickly on a pad on his desk, Travis Walker moved away from his position against the wall. He ran a large hand through his rich black hair. Like the other Walker brothers, Travis was a large man, well over six feet tall and with a body of the tight end he was in college. His green eyes flashed with alarm at the controlled panic in his brother’s voice. Leaning over, he gave Jon, who was asleep, a not so gentle shove. Having pulled an all-nighter on a stakeout, Jon Walker had complained and whined about being denied his comfortable bed and forced to drive half way across the state of Texas for an eleven a.m. meeting. He had been rather vocal that had it been a work meeting, he would have been more than understanding. But, for God’s sake, he was called here for a meeting about their sister’s sex life! His adult sister’s sex life! Pushing his hat away from its resting-place on his face, he stared morosely at his offending older brother. With soft blond hair and a cherubic face, most thought him young and innocent, but the emerald eyes reflected a wariness of one who has experienced all the ugliness the world had to offer. “Whaaaat...” His complaint at being so rudely awakened stuttered to an abrupt stop as the seriousness on his brothers’ faces worked its way into sleep-fogged brain. He weakly finished, “...the hell happened?” Adam slammed the phone down on the hook. “Jesse was in a car accident. They say she is in critical condition.” He did not need to say anymore, the four brothers stormed out of the office, a wave of football players rushing to sack the quarterback. The drive was quiet and tense, as the brothers contemplated the fate of their younger sister. The four men piled into Jon’s Ford SUV fully equipped with police lights and siren, allowing them speedy access through the gnarled traffic. “Damn it!” Jon slammed his hands against the steering wheel as he maneuvered the bulky black

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car through the traffic caused by the closure of two lanes for the emergency vehicles. He stared longingly at the unencumbered road of the oncoming traffic. Despite appearances most of the traffic was jammed before the accident site as midday commuters fell victim to a natural human curiosity to ogle the unfortunate circumstances of another. Sitting beside his younger brother, Adam clenched his fists in frustration. What part of yielding to emergency vehicles did these morons not understand? Was it not a well-known and common sense rule of the road that the shoulders were to be kept clear for emergency vehicles? It would seem however, that most of the drivers on the road were under the false impression that that the shoulder would help them reach their destination faster. Jon slammed his fist against the horn, cursing profusely at the small compact that was trying unsuccessfully to move back into the line of traffic. “Get the hell out of the way!” Travis, not as restrained as his brothers, stuck his head out the window, yelling at the cars in the emergency lane. On a warm summer day, many drivers chose to have their window open, and Travis’ impatient shout drew curious glances from many commuters. Being the calmest of the Walker siblings, Daniel saw no need to cause a scene. The cars were slowly, but surely, pulling back into traffic. He reached out and snagged his brother by the neck of his off-white chambray shirt, yanking him back into his seat, ignoring the strangled protest of his younger sibling. “Finally!” Adam was exuberant as the vehicles blocking their path finally cleared out the shoulder and allowed them a clear pathway to the accident site, easily marked from a distance by the plume of dark smoke rising from the burning wreckage. Adam felt his heart skip a beat. He prayed that the plume of smoke wasn’t coming from her car. They skirted the State Patrol vehicle parked about five hundred yards from the accident, closing two lanes of traffic. The officer stuck on traffic duty was attempting to move traffic along, waved the SUV through. The acrid smell of burning metal, rubber, and gasoline assailed their senses as they approached the scene, intensifying the fear that gripped the hearts of the normally indomitable men.

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Slamming the car to a stop at the first row of emergency vehicles, the four doors of the SUV opened in unison, deploying the four men. Jogging towards the scene, the four men formed a wall of raw masculinity that dared anyone to even consider stepping in their path. Impatiently, Adam reached out, grabbing an unsuspecting officer by the arm, shoving his Captain’s rank in his face, “Where is she?” A stockily built man of five feet nine inches, Officer Montoya wasn’t intimated by many men, however, he swallowed visibly as he noticed three equally huge men flanking the large Captain, alllooking as though they were ready to pound the nearest individual to a bloody pulp. “She, sir?” “The accident victim, Officer Montoya,” Adam said impatiently. “Jesse Walker.” The cloud of bewilderment cleared, as he understood the Captain’s abrupt question, relieved that he was not going to be chewed up and spit out for breakfast for an offense that, for the life of him, he didn’t know he committed. Turning, he pointed toward the ambulance hidden by the bright red fire engine. “They’re loading her into the ambulance now, sir.”

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Jesse knew she wasn’t dead. Damn the luck. Her stomach in knots, her body in agony, and her head cracked wide open, she welcomed death. She closed her eyes, determined to keep them closed this time. The light from the mid-morning sun sent shards of pain through her head. The poking and prodding by the paramedics wouldn’t allow her to forget that she was alive, though not at all well. Her mind wanted to protest when the paramedics, after placing a bandage over the bleeding wound on her forehead loaded her onto a gurney for transport to the hospital. Her body, however, wouldn’t allow her mind to commit what it considered to be a moronic act and a waste of precious energy. “Jesse!” Adam called as he raced to her side. The gurney halted as it was loaded into the back of the ambulance. Despite the promise that she was not opening her eyes, Jesse cracked one open to be greeted by the sight of her eldest brother, leaning over her, the concern etched on his face. Opening her other eye, she was surprised to see her other three brothers clustered behind Adam, the concern mirrored on their faces. “Oh, God, I died and went to hell,” she moaned. “Sir, we have to take her to the hospital,” the paramedic said. “She has an abrasion on her forehead and a minor concussion. She’ll be fine. They will probably want her to stay overnight for observation and will likely release her in the morning. If you want, one of you can ride with her to the hospital.” Stepping back to allow the professionals to work, the four brothers stared at one another, silently making a decision as to which one will be riding with Jesse. In silent agreement, Daniel climbed into the back of the ambulance, sitting beside her, holding her hand. “Where are you taking her?” Travis asked.

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“Texas Medical.” The paramedic slammed the back of the ambulance and walked around to the driver’s seat.

*****

Standing back, the remaining Walkers watched the ambulance leave in a cacophony of sirens and a flurry of rocks and gravel. After the ambulance made it into the main line of traffic, Adam led the way back towards Jon’s SUV, shaking his head. “What is it, Adam? You have the look of dangerous contemplation about you.” Travis stared down as his boots crunched through the gray gravel. “The phone call that I got.” Adam’s brow wrinkled in thought. “Officer Boyington said that Jesse was in critical condition. I didn’t think of it before, but, estimating travel time, the caller would have had to make the call before the paramedics even arrived. Something doesn’t make sense.” He watched as the firefighters began to pack away their equipment. Walking to the edge of the embankment, his brothers in tow, he looked down at the smoking body of Jesse’s beloved little red Mustang. He went with her to buy the little car and he remembered the glitter of triumph, almost undisguised lust, as she signed the paperwork and the keys delivered into her waiting hands. He knew she washed her baby once a week and never went more than three thousand miles without an oil change. He felt Travis and Jon take up position around him, also staring down at the wreckage. “It’s almost a miracle she survived with the minimal injuries she sustained.” Travis winced as two firefighters walked around the vehicle, checking to be sure that they put out the last of the flames. A glint of metal caught his eye. Leaning into a flattened bush, he saw the license plate from her car. His hand clenched around the twisted metal as he held it out to his brother. Ranger 5 was stamped on the plate. Their father, who started the tradition when Adam joined the Rangers, had ordered the vanity plates for each of them as each child took on the Ranger mantle. Five was Jesse’s number, as she was the youngest and most recently minted Ranger. Daniel was not

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forgotten, he was given an A D A 1 plate when he joined the District Attorney’s office. These plates had always been a source of pride for the siblings. Turning, Travis stalked towards a small cluster of state patrol officers who were watching the emergency vehicles slowly dispersing and the traffic moving somewhat faster now that the show was over. “Who was the first one on the scene?” Travis demanded of the officers. The sergeant turned around, ready to reprimand the speaker, but bit back a retort before it could get him into trouble. “Lieutenant.” He greeted, in deference to rank. “I was, sir.” Travis turned to a young officer, calming the frustration he was feeling.

“Murphy,” he

acknowledged, reading his name off his nametag. “Was there an Officer Boyington on sight?” The gathered police looked to one another, the same questioning look in their eyes, finally, the sergeant shook his head, “I’m sorry, LT, but we don’t have a Boyington in the precinct.” “I received a call from someone who identified himself as Officer Boyington. He told me that my sister had been in an accident and was in critical condition.” Adam explained joining the gathering with Jon at his side. The officers’ eyes widened visibly at the arrival of so many ranking members of the Texas Rangers.

Recognition lit one of the young men’s eyes.

He mouthed the word Walker to his

companions. His fellow officers immediately recognized the name, and fell into a respectful silence. “I’m sorry, Captain,” Sergeant Lightfoot apologized. The Sergeant, a tall rugged man of Native American descent, shook his head. “Officer Murphy and Officer White were the first ones on the scene, and I don’t believe either of them made any phone calls.” Both officers nodded to acknowledge the accuracy of their sergeant’s statement. Adam drew a deep breath, wondering who had made the phone call. They thanked the officers for their help before walking towards their vehicle.

*****

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The fools. The sneer was evident on the face of the figure sitting in a nearby vehicle. Most murderers were stupid, and because of this, they made mistakes—mistakes that were made because they needed to stroke their egos. This one was not that stupid and had stopped the vehicle a short ways down from the accident scene. One little phone call and the bitch’s brothers came running. They were so stupid, believing anything that was told to them. The figure laughed at the ingenuity of it all. The fright on the woman’s face would stay firmly entrenched. It would have been preferable if she was dead, but scared was good for now. The woman, like most women, despite the outer strength that she displayed, was weak inside and easily frightened. She would stay away from Wallis. Turning on the ignition, the murderer slowly moved the battered Chevy back into traffic.

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Andrew massaged the bridge of his nose as he studied the woman in front of him. Alison Hargrove, recently divorced from her wealthy husband, had requested a meeting with him to finalize the details of Wallis Corporation’s sponsorship of Make-A-Wish foundation fundraiser. He had told her several times to discuss it with his public relations vice president, but she was insistent on working it out with him. Unfortunately, since she was the daughter of family friends and, thanks to the divorce settlement, the owner of a fair number of Wallis corporate stocks, he was obligated to discuss it directly with her. The minute she walked in the door, he realized with dread that Alison was more interested in his sponsorship of her rather than the sponsorship of a worthy charity. The short black leather dress she wore clung to her like a second skin and displayed her considerable assets to their best advantage. Her black hair fell in waves around her aristocratic face and the full pouty mouth curled in a seductive smile. He noticed that seductive smile did not reach her blue eyes. Instead, her eyes reflected a cool calculated seduction, not the honest emotional passion reflected in the emerald pools that were Jesse’s eyes. It had not been a good day and Alison’s visit certainly had not helped. His day had started bright as he watched Jesse come down the stairs, dressed in a tailored emerald green suit. She had curtly informed him that her mother bought it for her when she saw the mixture of surprise and pleasure on his face. She knew that he knew she did not pick it out. Her selections ran towards the simple, all occasion black. He was in for a rude awakening when he arrived at the office to see two Texas Rangers waiting in the foyer of his office. The duo had identified themselves as Madeleine Stinson and Randolph Washington. He almost laughed at the night and day difference in the pair. Stinson was a petite woman with a

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willowy figure, blond hair that she tied in a bun at the nape of her neck, and clear blue eyes that spoke volumes. Washington, in complete contrast, was a hugely built, black man with a shiny baldhead, torso and arms thick as tree trunks, and brown eyes as fathomless as a muddy puddle. The two, however, seemed completely at ease in their obvious differences and incongruity. They even seemed to revel in it. “Jesse, Captain Walker wants to see you back at headquarters. We’re here to keep an eye on Senator Wallis.” Stinson said after greeting her co-worker and, obviously friend, enthusiastically. Neither woman was aware that he had caught the questioning look exchanged between them that caused Jesse to blush furiously. The demand for more information when they were alone with a drink in each hand was equally obvious. The words “Captain Walker wants to see you” drove a stake through his heart. He suddenly became aware of just how comfortable he was seeing Jesse, morning, noon and night. The fear that Jesse may be removed from the case tore through him. He did not want her to go, he realized. He wanted her to be with him morning, noon and night, for the rest of their natural lives. That thought scared him to death. Outwardly, he maintained his composure, as he welcomed his new protection team, said a cheery good-bye to Jesse and watched her walk towards the elevator to her car, which was being stored in the Wallis Corporation garage. Her car was another source of surprise for him. For some odd reason, he expected her to be driving a rough and tumble pick-up or SUV, and not the sporty, little, red Mustang she owned, and obviously, loved. Inwardly, however, he cringed, his emotions a tempest as they roiled around through his body, from the clenching in his gut rising to up to twist his heart in horrid realization that he had hopelessly fallen in love with a woman his complete and utter opposite. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Ana, his assistant went home sick almost immediately after, so he was stuck with a temporary from the Wallis Corporation secretarial pool. Not that Rachel Takahashi was not a good secretary, she just did not understand the moods of her employer.

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“Andrew, darling, are you listening to me?” Alison’s saccharine sweet voice slid through his thoughts to drag him back into the present. Drawing a deep breath, he nodded. “Yes, Alison, I am listening.” “So, you are going to escort me to the fundraiser, right?” She asked in a rhetorical tone, as though it were already decided. “No, Alison, I have another date.” I hope, he thought. He still had to convince Jesse that she would like to come with her. Alison’s mouth opened and then closed. It was no secret that men she set out to seduce rarely said “no” to her. Her previous husband, Jonathan Hargrove, gave her the things that she had always wanted, money and position. Everyone knew that to this day she hadn’t forgiven her father for making several bad investments and sending his company into bankruptcy. Her privileged world had been destroyed in one fell swoop. But she had made it back to the world she was forced to leave with the marriage to Jonathan Hargrove, a man who made his money in technology and wanted a wife who could gain him entrance into Houston society. Everyone knew that Hargrove was having an affair with a little tart who proclaimed herself an actress and a model. That is, if you count acting in pornographic movies and modeling in catalogs aimed towards the adult fetish audience, acting and modeling. What no one realized at the time was that Alison was only biding her time, hiring a detective to gather evidence of the infidelity. She walked out of the courtroom free of her husband, and with half of his quarter of a billion-dollar fortune. “What do you mean, no, Andrew?” Her voice was slow and deliberate, tinged with disbelief. “No, means no, Alison. I am escorting someone else to the fundraiser,” Andrew said patiently, as though explaining the facts of life to a child. “I was counting on you, Andrew.” “No promises were ever made, Alison. Up until today, you never even mentioned it to me.” Alison stood, abruptly, grabbing her purse and jacket. Stalking out of his office, she paused at the door, turning around to throw one last barb. “You will be sorry for this, Andrew. I was willing to

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have you and you are throwing it away.” Andrew shook his head at the melodramatic tone of Alison’s voice. Jonathan always told him that she was the queen of melodrama, and he was right. He winced as the door to his office slammed, jarring its moorings. Leaning back in his comfortable leather chair, he closed his eyes blindly groping for the television remote control. Finding it, he turned his chair to face the television built into an alcove in the wall. His eyes closed, he turned half an ear to the noon news, listening as the anchor ran through the newsworthy events of the day, from the crisis in the Middle East to elections in Russia.

The police are on looking for the driver of a blue Chevrolet who was responsible for a major accident on Highway 59 today. Witnesses say that the driver of the Chevrolet sideswiped another vehicle, forcing it off the road. There are unconfirmed reports of shots fired by the driver of Chevrolet. The driver of the second vehicle is reported to be Jessica Walker, a Texas Ranger.

Andrew sat up abruptly as he turned the volume up, concentrating on the television report. Tendrils of fear that had slid around Andrew’s heart clenched tightly, catching Andrew’s next breath in his lungs and holding it captive.

Ranger Walker was taken to Texas Medical Center after sustaining minor injuries.

Andrew drew in a deep breath as the tendrils of fear that clenched around his heart and lungs released slightly. At least she is alive. He had not realized just how scared he was that he had lost her forever before he even had her. His mind galvanized his numb body, forcing it to move. He punched the intercom on the phone, “Rachel, I will be out the rest of the afternoon. Cancel all my appointments.”

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“Yes, Mr. Wallis,” she acknowledged without question. As the numbness receded, a cold rage began to rise as he reviewed the telecast. “There are unconfirmed reports of shots being fired by the driver of Chevrolet.” Shots fired. Was it because of him? Two girls were already dead because of him and the guilt of each weighed heavily upon him.

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“He was wearing a mask.” Jesse repeated for the fifth time. She really must be in hell. She leaned back in the hospital bed, the head raised slightly, allowing her to be in a sitting position. She was not in the mood to be questioned by her brothers, all four of them, repeatedly about the events that landed her in the hospital. She felt defenseless, trapped in a hospital bed, surrounded by her brothers, wearing a butt-bearing hospital gown that offered her very little protection from the elements, and her brothers. Adam already informed her that he had assigned her a police guard. Someone was out to kill her and he was not about to leave her to the wolves. The tension in the room was overpowering. Adam stood beside the bed, asking questions. Travis paced the room with the restless energy of a caged lion. Jon stood with his back to the room, staring out the window, his fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Daniel seemed the most relaxed, sitting in the only chair in the room. His calm exterior betrayed only by the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. The door slammed open, causing the men in the room to leap up in surprise and more than on weapon was drawn. “Jesse!” Andrew stormed into the room, his two bodyguards shrugged toward their Captain, who waved them off. He stared at her.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear knowing she looked

uncharacteristically frail. Her brothers had told her several times already. The white bandage on her forehead stood glaringly white against the paleness of her face. Oblivious to the weapons quietly and unobtrusively put away, he advanced towards the bed, barely acknowledging the audience in the room. “Andrew.” A smile of pleasure came unbidden to her lips. She was surprised at how glad she was to see him and that he cared enough to rush over to the hospital in the middle of the day.

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Adam moved back, allowing Andrew to position himself beside the bed. He moved to stand beside his seated sibling, exchanging curious looks between them as it seemed that the two lovebirds had forgotten there was anyone left in the room with them. “Jesse. My God, I heard about the accident on the news and I was frantic.” He took her chilled hand in his warm one, squeezing it comfortingly. “You’re here.” She was speechless. He actually came. A warm glow spread through her as he warmed her, not only with his hand, but also with his presence. “Of course I came, silly.” He leaned forward, gently caressing the angle of her jaw with his thumb. “I love you, Jesse.” Jesse blinked in surprise, not sure where that declaration came from. The “L” word? It was way too fast. Things like that only happen in romance novels and this was definitely not a romance novel. “You love me, Andrew? We barely know each other.” Pulling her to him, Andrew gently brushed her mouth with his. The kiss deepened, as he sat heavily beside her on the bed, his legs unable to support him any longer. His mouth pushed down harder on her demanding one, as her hands slipped around his head, intertwining them in his head. Her tongue pushed gently against his warm lips, demanding access. They opened for her. Their tongues greeted one another like long lost lovers. Jesse and Andrew jumped apart guiltily at the sound of someone clearing his throat. A blush crept up her face as she suddenly remembered the audience of siblings in the room. Andrew stared at Jesse for a moment, his eyes catching hers and holding them before turning warning toward the rest of the room. His eyes widened warily as he noted the four colossal men gathered around the bed, all standing, with various expressions ranging from amusement to rage on their handsome faces. “Umm, Andrew, these are my brothers,” she said sheepishly, her face flushed. “Adam, Daniel, Jon, and Travis.” “Pleased to meet you.” He tried one of his most disarming smiles on Travis, the one who looked

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to most likely want to rip his head from his shoulders. At least Adam, who was the oldest, was amused, which means he would probably not be dead. Daniel, the District Attorney, had a bland, emotionless visage, which made it impossible to determine what he was really feeling. The youngest of the male siblings, Jon, was in complete disbelief or was it denial. “What the hell were you doing?” Jon burst out, still shaking his head as if trying to discern what he had just seen. “I believe he was kissing our sister, after declaring his undying love for her.” Daniel sat back down in the semi-comfortable chair. “But she’s our baby. She doesn’t do that!” Jon’s voice was tinged with disbelief. After all this was his kid sister and it was his responsibility to beat the tar out of any man who dared to touch her and he took that job very seriously. “I believe that I am old enough to take care of myself, Jon,” Jesse said testily. Her head was beginning to hurt and the overprotective attitude displayed by her siblings was not helping. “Let’s leave these two alone, guys.” Adam shooed his younger siblings out of the room. Despite protests, the Walker boys, as they are known as a collective group, left the room, leaving Jesse and Andrew alone. “Where were we?” Andrew asked, his hand still holding hers, gently stroking the side of her hand with his thumb making little concentric circles on her skin. Skin that was remarkably soft, except for the calluses associated with handling a weapon on a regular basis. “I’m really not sure.” “Ah, I remember.” His mouth came down once again to claim her soft lips. She arched towards him, her arms wrapping around his neck. She moaned in desire as he gently nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth. “You are so sweet.” Jesse closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation and taste of his mouth. His strong arms wrapped around her tightly, holding her close, while his hands stroked her smooth skin of her back, exposed by the flimsy hospital gown she wore.

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Andrew drew away, his arms still wrapped around her willing body. “I said I love you, Jesse.” He gently put his finger on her lips, “Hush, not a word. I know you. You will deny it, but I know what I feel, Jesse. I never believed that I could fall in love this quickly, but it happened! And nothing you say will change that.” “Nothing?” “Nothing.” He held her gently, his eyes never leaving hers. It was like a romance novel, she thought. Could it happen? Could a person know that this was her soul mate? Could one truly be so lucky as to ‘find’ their soul mate? Her heart knew the answer to those questions, even if her mind questioned it. “I love you, Andrew.” The words came unbidden from her lips. Her heart’s desire was stronger than her mind. She chuckled in disbelief, still not trusting that she’d actually said it or was it that she didn’t believe it could be true? “Oh, Jesse, you can’t believe how much I wanted to hear you say that too. That it was not just me feeling it. I want you to spend the rest of your life with me. Marry me.” “Marry you?” She stuttered in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.” “Why not, Jesse? You and I already decided we love each other. You are, for all intents and purposes, living with me. Why not make it permanent?” She leaned back, slipping out of his embrace. The slight distance between her and Andrew made it a little easier for her to think. When he held her in his arms, her mind was too fuzzy for her to think clearly. “Maybe because there is a psycho out there killing people who are close to you!”

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was like throwing Halon on a chemical fire. Andrew shook his head. The girl he loved sure knew how to put a damper on a good thing. For a while there, he certainly had forgotten about the murderer on the loose. He had been so relieved to see that she was alive and well. Someone was out there killing people he dated, and that someone probably tried to kill her today. “Were there shots fired, Jesse?” “What?” “The news said that there were unconfirmed reports that shots were fired.” She nodded, drawing in a deep breath. “Yes, there were shots fired. Crime Scene was able to pull out a couple of slugs from the wreck of my car. They hope to match ballistics.” He pulled her close. He put his finger to her lips once again and shook his head. His heart had leapt to this throat when she confirmed the news report. He crushed her to his chest, holding on for dear life. “You are crushing me.” She managed to choke out, gasping for air as he released her, though he still kept hold of her shoulders. “I know this will be hard for you to understand, but I am a cop and have been for almost ten years and I do a dangerous job. So, this is not the first time I have been shot at, nor will it be the last time.” Andrew stood, pacing with nervous energy, the idea of the woman he loved, the one he intended to make his wife, getting shot at. “I don’t want to worry about whether you will be killed by some drug dealer because you are the one wearing the badge.” “What?” Jesse shook her head in disbelief. She sat ramrod straight on the bed. The sudden movement caused a jackhammer to slice through her head as it drove a spike through her right eyeball. She winced at the sudden pain. “You just asked me to marry you, Andrew. Do you expect me to give

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up my career if I say ‘yes’?” It was a fair question, and one that he had hoped not to have to talk about right now. He knew what he wanted and he knew what she needed. Now he just had to reconcile himself to it. Andrew returned and sat down beside her quickly. He took her hands in his, holding them in a death grip. “I love you, Jesse. Can’t you understand that? I don’t want you to give up your career, but at the same time it is so hard to think that I might lose you to some madman’s bullet.” Jesse’s iron gaze softened as she marveled at the earnestness in his tone. “Andrew, I am a cop. I am a Texas Ranger. It’s in my blood and in my soul. My mother worried everyday my father was out on the street. I can remember the look in my mother’s eyes every time there was a report of an accident or death involving the police. The news anchors don’t always get it right, you know. Sometimes they say police officer and they really mean Texas Ranger. “They married right out of college, you know. They were high school sweethearts. She even followed him to the same school for college. He always wanted to be a cop. It was a tradition in the Walker family. In those days, a college-educated cop was very rare. My mom became a nurse. He went off to war within two months of their marriage.” She chuckled. “Even in the army he was a cop, he was an MP.” He shifted over, so that most of him was sitting on the bed with her, with one foot hanging off the bed, his arm going around her shoulders and holding her close as she spoke. “When he returned, he joined the Texas Rangers, with his father and his uncle. Mom suffered through sleepless nights and worried days, through five children and over thirty years on the force. When he made Captain and spent more time behind a desk than on the street, she thought her days of worrying were over.” She sniffed, unwelcome tears coming to her eyes. Tears that she angrily brushed aside with the back of her hand. “He was killed by an armed robber in a convenience store last year. He wasn’t even on duty. He just stopped in to buy a cup of coffee on his way to work. The kid, he was only fifteen, had wanted drugs. Maybe wanted isn’t the right term, needed drugs and needed money for them. Dad tried

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to talk him out of it, but the kid got nervous when the police showed up outside and pulled the trigger.” Andrew pulled her close, holding her tightly. He kissed her gently on the top of her head. “I want you to stay with me, Jesse. I want you to be happy. I do not want you to give up your career. I just want you to know how worried I will be.”

She leaned close, reveling in his love. “I love you too, Andrew.” “Then say ‘yes’ and be with me forever, Jesse.” “Yes.” He grabbed her, pulling her tightly to him. His mouth swooped down on hers, claiming it greedily. “You have just made me the happiest man on the face of the planet. And I promise, your career is safe with me. Even if I develop a head of gray hairs waiting for you to come home at nights.” Anything else he had to say was cut off abruptly as his bottom slipped from its precarious place on the edge of the bed and landed with a thud on the floor beside. Jesse exploded in laughter as the door flew open. Adam’s hulking form was framed in the doorway. Daniel, Trevor and Jon were behind him, shoving each other side for a better view. Andrew looked sheepishly up from the floor at the bear standing in the doorway, emotions ranging from anger to confusion on his face. “What happened?” Jon demanded. “Do I need to pound his pretty face into the ground?” “Andrew asked me to marry him and I said yes,” she said happily, reaching out to take her fiancé’s hand as he stood up, instinctively brushing some non-existent dust off his rear end. Travis shoved Adam aside, stumbling into the room. “He what?” “I asked her to marry me and she agreed.” Andrew repeated the scenario for the second of her brothers. He looked past Adam and Travis to Jon and Daniel, still standing in the doorway. “Do I need to repeat it two more times or have you got it?” Adam smiled and moved into the room, causing Jon and Daniel, who were leaning against him, to topple forward.

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“You can’t be serious!” Travis exploded. “This man is a playboy! And you barely know him.” “Mom said she knew Dad was the man for her from the moment they met, Travis. Why can’t it happen to our little sister?” Daniel asked blandly. “Because she is our little sister. Damn it. She isn’t supposed to fall in love and get married!” Travis blustered out. The ridiculousness of the statement caused Jon to break out into belly-splitting laughter. The laughter was contagious as first Daniel, Jesse, Adam, and finally Andrew succumbed to its irresistible pull. Travis stood there, staring at his siblings as though they had each grown two heads. “I don’t see what is so funny.” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “Have you thought about how ridiculous your statement was, Travis?” Daniel managed to force out, between gales of laughter. “It was not ridiculous,” Travis said peevishly. “It is a genuine concern.” He stood there, waiting impatiently while his siblings and soon to be brother-in-law gathered their wits about them. He tapped his foot, stifling the desire to tap it onto the head of one of his siblings. After what seemed to be an interminable amount of time, the laughter abated. Jesse lay back on the bed, amazed as she suddenly realized that her head had stopped pounding, but had settled into a dull ache. Andrew sat beside her, his arm once again wrapped possessively around her shoulders. Adam stood at the foot of the bed, looking at the two of them. They looked so cute together, he thought. “There is one small problem, although, Senator. With your new relationship, I am afraid that Jesse may no longer function as your bodyguard. Actually, with the recent events, I would like to assign you a round the clock guard. Rangers Stinson and Washington will be with you during the day. I will assign four other officers, to take eight hour shifts in the evening and overnight.” It was on the tip of his tongue to refuse, however, Jesse’s safety was more important to him than his pride so he nodded, resigned to the latest intrusion. Though, to be totally honest, the last intrusion was not too bad as he gave her shoulders a supportive squeeze. “And you, young lady.” Adam looked at her. “The doctor says that he will not clear you to

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work for a week after you are released. So, get used to some rest.” The smile that Jesse had turned into a frown as her brother made his announcement. But she didn’t argue with him. Leaning back on the bed, she sighed deeply as she watched in relief as her brothers left the hospital room. The tension in the room dropped considerably, as well as the overpowering sensation of testosterone in the air. Andrew stood up and stretched. “Well, darling, it means we can spend some time searching for a wedding ring and planning our wedding. I figure one month is more than enough time for us to wait, don’t you?” “One month?” Jesse shook her head, amazed at the speed with which he wanted this to occur. “Thirty days?” “Well, why wait? You love me and I love you. I certainly have the money to make your dream wedding happen in one month.” He was exuberant. Laughing he spun around in a circle in that teeny space between the bed and the wall. “Besides, this month has thirty-one days. So, you get an extra day to plan.” His laughter was contagious, as she smiled, then grinned, finally giving into the laughter bubbling in her throat. “My dream wedding, Andrew?” “Yes, your dream wedding.” He stopped his spinning and rushed to her side, dropping onto one knee and grabbing her hands in his. “You’re a girl. I am sure you have a dream wedding.” Jesse’s laughter slowed, a joyous smile settling on her face. “I have had some ideas of how I want my wedding to be.” She admitted almost shyly, as though the admittance that she had girlish fantasies would make her any less the strong law enforcement officer. Andrew’s eyes lit up, “Anything you want, darling, anything you want!” Reaching forward, she pulled him to her, holding him tightly. “I love you.” She murmured into his hair. “And I love you with all of my heart for all of eternity, Jesse!” The promise sounded right to his

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The night was not a good one. Jesse was still amazed at how one can be told to rest in a hospital. It seemed every two hours a that nurse was in the room poking her, taking her temperature, blood pressure, or just waking her up for the hell of it. Concussions are nasty, but it was hard for one to rest when people continually check if you are still alive or in a coma! Dr. Joyce Washington was unnaturally cheery at seven in the morning, when she walked in the door, a cheerful smile revealing a mouth of blinding white teeth, which bespoke the investment of a small fortune on dental work. “Good morning, Jesse! And how are we this morning?” Her mouth opened ready with what her brother would term one of her trademark smart aleck comments. With self-control she didn’t know she possessed, she nodded. “Better than yesterday.” “Of course, dear, how’s the head?” She pointed a small penlight into Jesse’s eyes. Dear? This little peroxide blonde isn’t that much older than I am, she thought uncharitably as the doctor inadvertently yanked one of her pet peeves. “Hurts.” “Well, ten stitches in your forehead will do that to you.” She jotted some notes on the chart. “You should be ready to go home today. I’ll prescribe some pain medication to help with the headaches, though you should probably consider staying with someone for a few days. She looked up from the chart she was writing in. “You have someone to drive you home, I assume?” Jesse wanted to nod, but didn’t. She was resisting the urge to toss her cookies and the sudden jerking movement of her head would certainly mean her defeat in that battle. Her pride would never forgive her if she were to embarrass herself in front of this cheerleader, either. And of course, she got sick in front of the doctor, she may make her stay another night. “Yes, I have someone to drive me home.”

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“Good. I’ll sign your discharge and a nurse will be in with your prescription. Then you can go home anytime.” The perkiness was even evident in the spring in her step as she left the room. She groaned as she leaned back against the too soft pillow on the too hard surface of the hospital bed. Releasing a pent-up breath that she didn’t know she was holding. Flipping on the television, she clicked the remote through the various morning programs until she finally reached CNN Headline News. Jesse’s eyes closed slowly as she allowed herself a quiet moment to deal with the nausea, the droning of the morning news anchor discussing the headlines of the day. It was all pretty much the same day after day, with discussion of war in the Middle East and more killing in the Gaza Strip. She was into the third run of the day’s headlines when Andrew arrived, hiding behind a huge bunch of roses. His kiss was warm and inviting filling them both with joy. “I am taking you home with me.” Andrew’s tone allowed for no argument. Not that Jesse had any plans to argue. “And then what are you going to do with me once you get me there?” There was a teasing, seductive tone in her voice that she didn’t know she possessed. She liked it. More, she liked his response to it. He slipped on top of her, using his hands to steady him, nuzzling her nose. “I am tempted to ravage you until you beg for mercy, however, I will settle for moving you into my room and holding you there for the rest of our natural lives. Hell, if it means being with you, I’ll toss in the rest of unnatural lives as well.” She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you.” “And I love you.” The soft clearing of a throat interrupted their reunion. Without moving apart, they both turned their heads in the direction of the interruption. “Very sickening.” Adam stood in the doorway, a gym bag in his hand. “I picked up some clothes for you from your place. The stuff you were wearing didn’t make it as well as you did.” “I appreciate it, Adam.” Jesse smiled a faint blush still in her cheeks from being caught in a

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compromising position. She realized with horror that she was just about to consider ravaging Andrew on that hospital bed. That realization caused a shudder to race through her. But was it a shudder of revulsion or a shudder of excitement? “I assume that you want to stay at the Wallis mansion? I spoke with Dr. Washington on my way in here and she didn’t want you to stay alone for a couple of days.” He entered the room, dropping the bag on the chair. “I like you, Andrew. I don’t consider myself a prude, but get off my sister before I shoot you.” Andrew obediently rolled off Jesse, a cat that ate the canary grin plastered on his face and landing nimbly on the slick linoleum surface. “You wouldn’t kill me, Adam. That would break your sister’s heart.” “Yes, but I can shoot to wound.” Adam was only half-joking as he said it. It was one thing for his sister to have a man on top of her but another for him to see it. “My, my, my, did we wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. And yes, I was thinking of going home with Andrew.” “Sarah has the spare bedroom all ready for you at the house, Jesse.” “And you want me to rest. I love you big brother and I love Sarah, and I love my niece and nephew, but I won’t be able to rest in a home full of children. They would never let me rest. They always want their “Aunt Jesse” to play cowboys and Indians, or horse with them. Or, worse, I would have to be subjected to Simple Plan played at full blast by Anna, with Cody screaming at her to turn it off.” The side of his mouth quirked up, “I hate it when you are both logical and right. Mom is not going to be happy. You know how she feels about young people today “living in sin.” “I knew I forgot something!” Jesse smacked her forehead, wincing as she forgot the bandage there. “Mom! She is going be worried if the news made it to El Paso.” “I called her. I assured her you were slightly banged up, but not dead,” Adam said reassuringly. “I did not tell her that you were engaged, I thought that was your job.”

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Despite her throbbing forehead, she smiled. “Thanks, Adam.” “No problem, brat. I promised Mom that you would call once you were settled. Now, we will leave and let you get changed. The doctor has signed your release order.” Jesse slid out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cold ground as the door closed silently behind them. Amazingly enough, the nausea had receded. Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out a pair of serviceable white cotton panties, white cotton bra, a T-Shirt and jeans. Buried at the bottom was a pair of tennis shoes with white socks rolled up and stuffed into a shoe. She held the white scrap of cotton in her hands, swinging them from her finger. Not very sexy, she thought with a sigh. But then again, I am not a very sexy person. The depressing thought slid unbidden into her mind as she sat heavily on the edge of the bed. Andrew was used to glamorous, sexy, women with perfect bodies. The same ones with closets full of the matching satin thongs and bras that was so popular at Victoria’s Secret. The only reason her lingerie matched is that it was all white cotton. How the hell was she supposed to compete with that? The romance, lust and the newness of their relationship had him wrapped in their little hot little hands, grabbing him and not allowing him to think clearly. Jesse hadn’t even been with a man in bed yet. Andrew, well, his conquests were legendary. How would he react to having a virgin in his bed? Pushing the dark thoughts out of her mind, she pulled on the clean underwear and pulled off the flimsy hospital gown. Despite her tough girl image, she had faith in romance. Faith that two people in the world can fall in love with one another at first sight, like in the romance novels she had hidden beneath her bed.

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was a quiet ride back to the Wallis compound. His arm curled around her while she leaned against him. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said. The peace and quiet was what they both needed. It seemed that there hasn’t been enough of that lately. Besides, Jesse was obviously exhausted as she fell asleep, safe and warm in the circle of his arms. Andrew pressed his lips to Jesse’s head, giving her a gentle kiss as the limousine turned into the drive leading up to the compound, the electronic gate swung open at their approach. His arms didn’t release her as she awoke, a little groggy from the impromptu nap. “We’re home, darling.” Sitting up from the half-reclined position she had been sleeping in, she looked around, getting a sense of their location. The now familiar landscape in front of the Wallis house greeted her like an old friend. She remembered the awe she felt when she had first driven up this drive. The rolling green lawn was devoid of any decoration. It would be a sin to allow anything to mar its beauty. In the distance, a white fence heralded the end of the rolling green grass and the beginning of the ranch. She watched two ranch hands exercising the racehorses in the dusty yard. Now it was a familiar and comforting sight. This would be her home now, she thought proudly. The feeling was odd. They weren’t married yet, but she knew. She knew that this was home. The vehicle pulled up to the main house. She had the door open before the chauffer even made it around. She stopped to admire the magnificent home as she waited for Andrew to collect the bags and join her. She wanted to take her own bag, but he adamantly refused to allow her to do so. The house was a three-story Georgian with two columns, unmoving sentinels standing guard beside the white double doors. Behind the house was the carriage house. The garage was large enough to accommodate six cars. The two-bedroom apartment above the garage housed the chauffeur.

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She looked back at the vehicle that had followed them from the hospital. In it were Stinson and Washington. First watch, as Andrew called them. Second watch was Julian Poe, a tall bald ex-military man, and Cornelius Redburn, a grizzled old Southern gentleman with more years in the Rangers than many people had been alive. Bradley Sorkin, a college educated young man, and Howard Leonard, the plain Joe who could mix in any crowd, made up third watch. She rewarded him with a beaming smile as he put his arm around her waist and gently steered her toward the door. Hampton opened the door with his usual efficiency, having heard the limousine approach. “Mr. Wallis, Ms. Walker. Welcome home.” “Thank you, Hampton,” she replied with a smile, noting the change in the warm welcome Hampton gave her a welcome, one reserved for the lady of the house. Andrew nodded at Hampton, who quickly relieved him of the bag. “I had Hampton move your things into my room, Jesse.” She smiled indulgently at the hesitation she heard in his voice. No matter what their relationship is, he was an officer and a gentleman. “That sounds great actually, Andrew.” “Why don’t I take you upstairs and you can get settled and get some rest before dinner.” She nodded in agreement. “I need a shower.” “I can help.” Andrew wiggled his eyebrows devilishly. “I think I can handle it myself.” Her nervousness was evident. This had never happened to her before and Jesse realized she wasn’t emotionally equipped to handle the physical and intimate side of their relationship. This is one time when she wished she had a sister, or at least more than one sister-inlaw. Slipping his arm around her waist protectively, he escorted her up the imposing marble steps. Taking her down the hallway, he smoothly walking past the room she was originally housed. He opened the massive double oak doors at the end of the hallway. The only way she could describe her reaction to the beautiful room was awe.

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The mammoth room was beautifully decorated in a modern décor that was not intensely masculine. Dominating the room was a huge oak bed complete with built in bookshelves and recessed lighting. The bed was much larger than any conventional size on the market, lending to the belief that it was custom made. A comfortable sitting area complete with a small white leather sofa and oak coffee table sat against the far wall. The large patio doors led out to a balcony that overlooked the exercise yard. From here, Jesse could see the large, well-appointed stables that housed the Wallis thoroughbreds. Jesse turned back to Andrew as he opened the door to the closet. “This one is yours.” Walking into the small room, she turned in place, amazed at the splendor of it. “And yours?” Pointing to the door next to this one, he shrugged. “My mother was a big fan of clothes. Bathroom is through that door.” She laughed. “Do you know that this is larger than my bedroom at home? It is gigantic compared to the room I grew up in?” “You get used to it, Jesse.” Andrew reached out with his muscular arms and pulled her to him wrapping them around her waist. He gave her nose a quick peck. “I love you regardless of the size of the room you grew up in.” Lifting her, he spun her in a circle, as she laughed and not so gently pounded on his well-defined shoulders. “Let me down, you ape!” “I can’t help it, Jesse.” He put her down, but didn’t release his hold on her. “You have made me the happiest man on earth.” Reaching forward, he lowered his lips onto hers. Of their own violation, her lips opened for him, molding to fit his perfectly. A groan of need escaped from her as his tongue demanded entrance. Her arms encircled his neck as she opened her mouth to welcome his demanding tongue. Her body felt spineless, her legs like gelatin, though her arms were of steel as she clung desperately to him. “I will let you shower.” He broke away, his desire for her obvious by the hardness at his groin. She nodded, mutely, not trusting herself to speak. She was intimately aware of his desire; even more was the desire that she herself felt. There was the wetness between her legs, not to mention the

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unfamiliar hard nubs that were once her nipples. Her absolute want for him surprised her. Despite the romantic nature she so kept hidden beneath her strong “One Riot, One Ranger” persona, she was firmly entrenched in logic. And the logic is that one did not fall so hard in love with someone one barely knows. However, her sense of logic was conspicuously absent when she had to answer Andrew’s marriage proposal. She jumped at the closing of the door. Shaking her head to clear out the last of the webs of desire, Jesse grabbed her comfortable terry cloth robe off the hook in the closet and ventured into the bathroom, pulling off her clothes as she walked along, leaving an inviting trail of clothing from the closet to the bathroom. The elegance of the bathroom froze her in her tracks. Her bare feet slightly chilled on the white marble tiles on the floor. The bathroom was opulent, with a large four-person Jacuzzi tub, surrounded by emerald green marble, with a separate shower, lined with multiple showerheads. There were two sinks, side by side, with two large mirrored vanities. Opening the vanities, she noted with interest that her toiletries had already been moved here and placed within. But then again, Andrew told her he had her things moved. Why should she think that the staff would be anything but completely efficient? Gingerly, she touched the white bandage on her forehead before stepping into the shower, turning the knob and allowing the streams of hot water to massage her aching muscles. The hot streams created a path of relaxation as the tense muscles slowly released beneath the gentle caress. What was she doing? She leaned her head against the shower wall. The water raced through her hair, down her face and her back. A stinging reminder that there was a bandage on her forehead forced her to pull her head back and allow the water to massage her breasts. You’re taking a shower, you dope. Even in times like this she couldn’t shut down the smart aleck side of her, the side of her that got her into trouble more often than not. The events of the last two days came flooding back to her in a torrent of thought and emotion. She had agreed to marry Andrew. A man she barely knew—a handsome, kind man with a hell of a nice looking butt and an aristocratic nose. Damn, there goes the nose again! What is it with the nose? She certainly didn’t consider think of

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herself as having a nose fetish. If anything, she liked derrieres, nice tight buttocks that could crush a walnut between them. She laughed and blushed though she knew that she was alone. She couldn’t believe she’d thought that! However, the thought did send a shudder up her spine and an insane curiosity to see if Andrew could in fact crush a walnut between his tight butt cheeks. Despite her desire to stay in the shower indefinitely, Jesse quickly washed her hair and body, lingering as long as she could underneath the hot streams, deciding that having a much larger water heater than the one in her little townhouse was a definite advantage. Turning and leaning the back of her head against the tile wall with her eyes closed, this time carefully keeping her injury out of the stream, she sighed in pleasure as the seemingly infinite streams of hot water beat down on her strained muscles. With self-discipline she didn’t know she possessed, Jesse reached out and turned the water off, moaning as the sinful pleasure was so abruptly cut off. Without opening her eyes, she slid open the transparent plastic door and reached out, snagging a soft Egyptian cotton towel from the rack. Drying herself off, she slowly allowed the remarkably absorbent and soft cloth to run seductively down her body. The cloth felt oddly erotic against her bare flesh. As she ran the towel across her breasts, she froze, as a sudden awareness of what she was doing assailed her. Shaking her head, she finished drying herself off quickly, almost angrily. She didn’t know why she was angry. All she knew was that she wasn’t sure of the thoughts that ran through her mind. Of course, the anger was odd as well, considering she loved Andrew with all of her heart. Wrapping her robe around her athletic body, she padded out of the bathroom into the bedroom, plopping down on the soft, comfortable mattress and the down comforter. Warily, she glanced at the phone, knowing that she was expected to call her mother, and yet, she dreaded the phone call. Then again, she will finally be able to tell her mother that she was going to get married, and maybe, she will finally not hear the familiar mantra of a mother who wants more grandchildren. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the cordless phone and dialed the familiar number. “Hi, Mom,” she said as she heard her mother’s soft voice greeting the caller. She felt a stab of

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guilt at the hopefulness in her mother’s voice. She should have called earlier to relieve her mother of the worry she must have been feeling since she heard about the accident. “Thank God, Jesse, I was starting to think that Adam was lying and that you were dead.” Sue Ellen Walker was ecstatic. “Are you hurt badly?” Jesse chuckled. “No, Mom, it was just a minor concussion and some cuts and scrapes. My car is totaled, though,” she added forlornly. “Your car is insured,” her mother chided. “You should just be glad that you’re alive. You’re staying with Adam and Sarah right?” This was where it gets tricky, she thought. Her mother was a Christian, a devout Christian, despite being married to and raising four Texas Rangers who took the Lord’s name in vain more often than not. “Actually, Mom, no, I am staying with a friend.” “A friend?” Her mother demanded, hearing the hesitation in her voice. “What aren’t you telling me, Jessica Ann Walker?” Jesse winced. Even at her advanced age, her mother can make her feel like a child again with the use of her full name. “Andrew Wallis, Mom. “And he has asked me to marry him,” she added quickly, cutting off a scream of protest from her mother. “Marry him? You have been dating a man long enough to decide to marry him.” She paused as a thought struck her. “You did say yes, right?” “Yes, Mom.” “So, you have been dating him and this is the first I have heard of him?” Jesse sighed as her mother pushed the guilt button.

What was that phrase that Camryn

Mannheim used in her book? “Your parents know what buttons to push because they sewed them on.” How true that was and her mother was pushing her buttons hard. Hell, she would swear her mother added a button each time they talked. “I’ve only known him for a few weeks, Mom. And, Mom, you know all about him, Senator

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Andrew Wallis?” That shut her mother up. Jesse could just see her mother’s mouth working and the words not coming out. The silence dragged as Jesse heard nothing but static and the sound of the Jerry Springer show in the background. “Mom?” “I am just shocked, Jesse,” her mother blurted out. “How did you meet him?” “I was protecting him, Mom, and we just sort of fell in love without even knowing it. Oh, God, Mom, don’t cry. I thought you would be happy.” The sound of her mother sniffing through the receiver panicked Jesse. “Oh, Jesse. Only my little tomboy could think that these are anything but tears of happiness. It just sounds so wonderful, Jesse. My little girl has finally found a husband! He is gorgeous and successful! And he isn’t a cop! He is a politician.” Her mother quickly sobered, “A politician, Jesse. Are you sure you want to marry a politician?” Jesse didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Her mother was so excited just a few minutes ago and then the fact her prospective groom is a politician hit her like a lead balloon. “You were crying for joy just a moment ago, mom!” “That was before I realized he was a politician. Do you really love him, Jesse?” “I think so, Mom. It hit me after I was hurt and he came to see me.” “And you are staying with him?” “Yes, Mom.” “And when is the wedding?” “One month.” Jesse pulled the phone away from her ear, putting some distance between her ear and the ear-splitting protest that was sure to follow. And her mother didn’t disappoint. “One month? I can’t plan a wedding in one month!” Jesse sighed, leaning her aching head against the headboard. “Mom, can we talk about this later?” “Are you feeling all right, darling?” Her mother was immediately concerned, hearing the

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exhaustion in her daughter’s voice. “Just tired,” she said, exaggerating the weariness in her voice in an effort to brush her mother off nicely. “Get some rest, Jesse, and we’ll talk later.” The motherly instinct in her immediately took over, pushing away the put upon mother mode. After a quick good-bye and a display of affection, Jesse put the phone back in the cradle. She groaned as she lay down on the bed, allowing her aching head to rest in the soft folds of the thick down pillow. Throwing her arm over her eyes, she nuzzled into the softness of the pillow as the heaviness of her eyelids took over, forcing them closed. Even in her dreams, Andrew wouldn’t leave her alone as she dreamt of his touch. His large hands, soft, with just the lightest touch roughness on the skin, gliding over her tender flesh. Her body shuddered in anticipation. A gentle knock at the door broke into her dream. She, rolled over and yanked a pillow over her head, eager to ignore the intrusion and return her wonderful dream.

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CHAPTER NINETEEN

A smile spread across Andrew’s face as he entered the room to see Jesse sprawled out on his huge bed, a pillow over her head. A shot of desire slammed through his groin as he beheld the gentle curve of her buttocks covered by the worn white terrycloth. Sitting down beside her prone body, he gently reached out and massaged her shoulders, his hands kneading the tense muscles through the cloth. Her moan of pleasure was his signal to continue his ministrations. Sliding his hands into the collar of her robe, he gently pulled it away from her, revealing the soft skin hidden beneath. His hands massaged the bare flesh, easing away the goosebumps caused by the chill, with the warmth of his hands. He was more than willing to pull the robe away from her back as she lifted herself slightly from the bed, her head still buried beneath the pillow. Reaching out, he touched the little mole on her right shoulder, a charming imperfection amongst the otherwise unmarred flesh. Jesse smiled seductively as she flipped onto her back, fully awake now, and throwing the pillow away from her face. She licked her lips. His breath caught as he stared at the exquisite globes of flesh, topped by pink nipples puckered by the chill in the air. He reached out to cup them in his hands, causing her to arch her back in pleasure. Deliberately, he leaned down and claimed her mouth. The kiss deepened as she entwined her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. She shuddered as her sensitive flesh brushed against the soft cotton of his shirt. Almost whimpering with pent-up need, she lowered herself back onto the bed, taking him with her, their lips never breaking apart. Disentangling his lips from hers, he reached down, pulling apart the remainder of her robe, his hands running through the dark triangle of hair at the juncture between her legs. Again, she quivered at his touch, desire filling her eyes. “I want you, Jesse.” Andrew’s voice was hoarse with need. Before she could answer, his head shot down to capture a nipple in his mouth. Sucking greedily, he was egged on by her need, a need she

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demanded by her cries of desire. Andrew felt her hands on his chest, pulling apart his shirt. He was so engrossed in his activity that he barely noticed the buttons as they popped off his shirt and flew off to every corner of the room. His head arched off his quarry as he felt her short-cut fingernails gently scraping his flesh. Her fingers curled into the light dusting of hair on his well-muscled chest. A ragged cry tore from him as her mouth slid around a flat copper nipple. He clutched the bedclothes in a vicious grip as her hands slid down to free his bulging manhood from the clothing that held it in check. His breath came in hot and ragged as her hands wrapped around his rigid organ. The delicate touch was tentative at first, but grew in confidence as she continued her exploration. His body ached at the tender torture it was being subjected to. Andrew had not even realized how much his body had wanted this. Without constraint, all of that repressed desire spilled forth. With careless abandon, he pulled her hands from his manhood. He reached down and pulled her legs apart. A primal cry tore through the air as he drove it home. He paused for a moment as he felt it tear through the paper-thin barrier. Desire had taken hold, driving all reason and logical thought from his mind as he continued his invasion. She clutched him to her, her body moving rhythmically with his. Their two bodies joined together and moving in perfect harmony. He held his release as he felt her clench around him, his teeth gritting with the effort. Again and again, he drove his organ into the slickness of her passage. Her urgent movements drove him to frenzy. Her womb tightened and contracted as she obtained her release. He felt her body convulse, though he barely heard her ragged cry of pleasure through the foggy haze of pleasure. His subconscious knew though and with one last hard drive, he buried himself deeply in her, gaining his gratification He held her sweat soaked body tightly to him, his manhood resting within her inviting warmth. After that spectacular experience, he was startled to realize that, though it should have been limp as a wet noodle, it was instead, rigid as a lead pipe. His organ wanted more. His mind wanted more. The

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rest of his sweat-soaked, exhausted body wanted nothing more than to fall down beside Jesse and pass out. Rolling off her, he pulled her nude body to his as his breathing slowly returned to a semblance of normalcy. He smiled softly as she sighed contently and nestled into his embrace. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked when he was able to speak again. “Tell you what?” “That you are... were a virgin.” Pushing herself up on her elbow, she looked at him, her finger tracing little circles in the beads of sweat on his chest. “Would it have made a difference? You wanted me and I wanted you.” His eyes closed as the pleasure slid through his body. He went rigid almost immediately as he sighed in pleasure. “Oh, God, Jesse. I can’t think when you touch me.” She giggled, enjoying the power she had over him, her fingers continued to circle his nipple. “Maybe I don’t want you to think, Andrew. Maybe I just want you to touch me and make me feel like a woman again.” “Jesse...” The rest of her sentence was drowned out by the groan of pleasure as her head dipped and her tongue flicked across his taunt nipple. “Jesse! You are going to kill me.” Grabbing her by the shoulders, he threw her onto her back. His hand sifted through the reddish hair that decorated the juncture between her legs, pushing aside the feminine folds of flesh to touch the wetness it concealed. Her body shivered in pleasure as he continued his assault, sliding first one then two of his fingers into the hot, tight, wetness of her passage. She was so tight. So hot. So wet. So needy. His fingers slid in and out of her, slowly at first and then faster and faster. He could feel the muscles tightening around his fingers. Jesse bucked, pushing herself into his hand, forcing it deeper into her, her hands clutched desperately at the bedclothes as she soared towards climax. With one last jerking motion, she climaxed, spilling out warm wetness onto his hand, soaking it and the comforter beneath her.

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As she struggled to catch her breath, he positioned himself between her spread legs, as he smiled down at her. He took pleasure in seeing the languid look on her face. Again, he drove into her. A gasp of pleasure stole from him as he slid into her hot, wet sheath. Words would not come to him as he pressed into her. His head pounded as his blood raged. His body stiffened as he exploded into her again. Collapsing, he felt his erection slowly recede, the satisfaction causing his limbs to feel sluggish, lethargic. Her hands caressed his back as he lay atop her. “Am I crushing you?” Not that he really thought he could do anything about it at the moment. It was very odd. This was not the first time he came more than once. Hell, once, admittedly when he was much younger, he did it a whopping five times. But with Jesse it was different. It was so much more passionate. She was his soul mate. She shook her head, her body feeling as though it was made of rubber. “No, I’m fine.” With a grunt, he forced himself to roll off her, as he reached out for her. She immediately shuffled into the crook of his arm, allowing him to cradle her in his strength. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were a virgin?” He brought them back to the previous topic of conversation with a tenacity that matched hers. “Would that have made a difference? You wanted me and I wanted you,” she yawned with feline grace. “Yes! I would have been gentle. I would have been slower.” He stammered, not sure what he was trying to say, but saying it anyway. “How are you by the way?” She laughed, her hand playing with his chest hair, twirling it between her fingers. Exhausted as he was, he immediately sprang to life. God, Jesse was going to kill him! And he was going to enjoy every second of the torture and the agony. “I hate to tell you, Andrew, but women are more active in this day and age than the romantic heroes and heroines of old and romance novels. I think I lost my “maidenhead” long ago by riding. I was an overactive child.” “Maidenhead?” “Yes, maidenhead. It sounds so much more romantic than my hymen.” She laughed.

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“Okay.” He did not really understand the difference, but it must be a girl thing. “So what you are saying is that it didn’t hurt.” “Yep! Actually, it was wonderful. If I had known it was that great, I think I would’ve found someone and hopped into bed with him long ago.” He pulled her close and held her tightly. “I can’t express how thrilled I am that I am your first.” He froze as realization hit him. “I wasn’t using protection.” He knew he was clean of disease, however, there was pregnancy. She was a virgin. There was no way that she could be on birth control, could there be? He stared at her expectantly. “I use birth control to help regulate my cycles. Do you think I would have allowed myself to let go so totally and completely otherwise?” She grinned as she pulled him back down beside her. This was perfection incarnate. “I am not that completely thoughtless.” He shifted and yanked the tangled covers out from beneath their weary bodies and covered them both, pulling her to him, spooning with her, their bodies meshing perfectly and totally, as though molded for one another. “Rest, Jesse. Rest.” Gently, he kissed the top of her head, burying his face in her hair for a moment, drinking in her wonderful scent as he felt her body relax into a restful sleep.

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CHAPTER TWENTY

“I do like this one.” Jesse admired the clear green depth of the three-carat emerald, surrounded by an array of smaller diamonds. Despite the cosmopolitan feel and color of the stones, the ring was set in an antique platinum setting. “Or would you prefer something more traditional, Jesse?” Andrew asked, gesturing to the array of diamonds in the well-stocked glass cases. It was a dream. That was all Jesse could think when Andrew took—no, dragged—her to Warner Jewels, the most exclusive jewelry store in Houston, to pick out their engagement ring. Apparently, there was no traditional engagement ring passed down from generation to generation of Wallis’. Instead, they believed that, like each relationship, the ring must be special and reflect the uniqueness of the wearer, as well as the giver. Cassandra Warner, or Cassie as Andrew affectionately called her, had greeted them with open arms or, more like Andrew with open arms, while Jesse had received a quiet contemplation. Jesse felt a momentary surge of jealousy as she watched Cassie embrace her fiancé. “And who is this that you have brought me?” Jesse stared at the elegantly dressed woman, staring at the perfectly cut, deep blue silk sheath that perfectly matched her blue eyes and heels Cassie wore. The shoes, the Manolo Blahniks as she was informed, and the dress matched so perfectly, Jesse suspected that the dress was made to match the shoes. The thought just made her more mindful of how unsophisticated she was in a white linen shirt, green linen pants and a green jacket, more to hide the gun she habitually wore than to protect her from the elements. At least she can take comfort in the familiar feel of her trusty friend, Sig Sauer. “My fiancé, Jesse Walker,” Andrew had said, slipping his arm protectively around her waist.

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Cassie’s deep blue eyes had widened in surprise, her mouth had opened and closed several times. Rather like a dying fish, Jesse had thought unkindly and more than a little smugly. “Your fiancé, Andrew?” Raising an elegant hand, she gently tucked a wisp of long blond hair behind her ears. “Well, this is a surprise.” “Wonders never cease, now do they?” Jesse shot back, defensively, wondering how many more ex-girlfriends of Andrew’s she would have to face now, through the wedding, and for the rest of their natural lives. Cassie laughed and, as if she had sensed Jesse’s thoughts, reached out to touch her arm with a long, red-tipped hand. “Andrew and I dated for a short time in college. However, I threw him over for his college roommate. Andrew wasn’t a sore loser, he was even best man at our wedding.” “It never entered my mind,” Jesse said lamely, inwardly kicking herself for her foolishness. “Of course it did. It would only be natural with our Casanova. Now, let me show you the rings. We have some very nice ones.” She walked toward the back of the store, to the highly polished cases, where rings with brilliantly sparkling stones glittered behind the protective glass.

*****

Andrew watched indulgently as his bride-to-be examined the various pieces that Cassie took out of the case, placing them each on a small blue felt pad to protect them from rough surface of the glass. Jesse had examined each one, hesitantly at first, but growing more and more confident with the process as she was slowly caught up in the excitement. Leaving her in the able care of Cassie, Andrew wandered the elegant store, his shoes moving silently across the elegant marble floor. For the first time, despite his frequent visits, he noticed how much of the décor was white, from the white marble floors to the white paneled walls, and the white marble staircase that led to the executive offices on the upper floor. A colossal crystal chandelier dominated the ceiling, illuminating the store in brilliant white light.

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He meandered over to a glass case, where an exquisite choker was on display. A teardrop emerald hung from three elegant chains of diamonds. Despite the size of the emerald, it was not ostentatious and would look elegant around Jesse’s throat. The deep green of the sparkling jewels would sparkle with the matching jewels of her eyes. The matching earrings had a simple diamond stud with a teardrop emerald hanging from it. Looking back at Jesse, he caught Cassie’s eye, motioning to the display. She acknowledged his gesture with an imperceptible nod. Andrew strolled back to Jesse’s side. He looked over her shoulder at her choices. “Pick whichever one you like, Jesse. Money is no object, remember?” “How could I forget?” Jesse slipped the emerald on her finger. “It is not traditional, but it is so very beautiful.” Taking her hand in his, he brought it close to his face examining it carefully. He brushed her knuckle with his lips. “It looks wonderful on you, dearest. Everything looks wonderful on you.” Andrew pulled Jesse into his arms, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Giggling, Jesse’s arms encircled his neck as she leaned forward. His lips dove down upon hers greedily, kissing her with impatient abandoned. Her mouth opened below the demand of his lips, a gentle sigh escaping from her. He pulled his mouth pulled away as a shit-assed grin broke out on his face. He turned to Cassie. “We’ll take it.” “Then I assume you will wear it out of the store?” Cassie did not bother to hide the delight on her face. Jesse nodded, the words choking in her throat, a cascade of emotions effectively robbing her of the ability to speak. Andrew’s arms slipped to her waist, lifting her into the air. She muffled an embarrassed squeak, as she put her hands on his shoulder, balancing herself, wondering what he had in mind next. He spun in a joyful circle, stopping only to pull her down to him, his eager lips meeting hers.

*****

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Cassie sighed. She could feel the passionate heat that emanated from the couple. She sniffed, as emotional tears threatened to slip down her face. But now is not the time to cry. That emotional torrent was to be saved for the wedding. It was so good to see Andrew so truly in love. Actually, she had despaired of it every happening, as she had watched him flit from one woman to another, giving the tabloids plenty to gossip about. For some odd reason, the publicity only fueled his political career, and had in no way dampened it. There was something about his masculinity that made men envy him and his gorgeous features made women dream about him. She had met her own husband, Lorne Warner, while they were in college at a party at her sorority. She had been dating Andrew at the time, but had never met his gorgeous roommate before that night. The moment her blue eyes met his perfect amber ones, it was love. He was certainly not as handsome as Andrew, but he was perfect for her. Poor Andrew was jilted right there and then. Unfortunately, so was Lorne’s date. Luckily, for Andrew, there were more than enough women at the party willing to soothe him. There were no hard feelings between the three friends, and they had remained best of friends for more than a decade. She released another sigh as she watched as Andrew and Jesse continued to kiss. It was wonderful.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“Now we go shopping for clothes.” His mouth hovered over hers. “We have a party to go to tomorrow night.” “A party?” She stared at him, her arms still wrapped around his neck. “Well, a fundraiser, actually,” he smiled.

“The Make-A-Wish Foundation fundraiser is

tomorrow night and I want you to go with me.” “But...” she stammered. What was she doing? How could she fit in with his society types? She was a cop, from a long line of cops. They had a solid middle class upbringing. Sure, her family went on a vacation each year, to Disney World, or the Grand Canyon, once her parents even splurged for a trip to Hawaii, but they had never done the European tour. “You will be wonderful.” He laid a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Cassie and Lorne will be there, right?” Cassie nodded. “Oh, most certainly. It will be wonderful, Jesse, you just wait and see.” Jesse sighed, buckling under the two-pronged attack. If she was going to marry Andrew, social functions were going to be part of the deal and she wasn’t going to shirk from her duty. A Walker never ran from battle. They faced it head on. “One Riot, One Ranger” was more than a motto for a Walker. It was a philosophy of life. So what if this isn’t a riot, but a fundraiser. It’s the same thing, isn’t it? With a resigned nod, she acquiesced to the inevitable. Andrew was certainly correct they would have to go shopping. She had nothing in her closet suitable for a function like this one.

*****

Senator Andrew Wallace off the Market?

The headline mocked her. It was on every society page and jabbered about over country club

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luncheons.

Senator Andrew Wallis was seen shopping for an engagement ring last week with a young woman at his side. The lady in question was identified as Jessica Anne Walker, a Texas Ranger and a member of the Walker family, a long time tradition in the Texas Ranger Corp. A spokesperson for Senator Wallis confirmed the happy couple is planning to wed within the month.

The paper printed a series of grainy pictures—obviously taken through the display window of the jewelry store—of the couple, looking into a glass case resplendent with expensive baubles. With a muttered oath, she viciously crumpled up the newspaper, throwing it across the room. She stood, pacing furiously. That bitch! She kicked the chair violently, again and again. Her rage boiling over as she replayed the headline: Senator Andrew Wallis off the Market? She looked at the chair, not a bit damaged by her attack. Just like Andrew. He seemed impervious to attacks, as well. Grabbing a heavy stone statue from the mantle of the marble fireplace, she heaved it across the room, shattering a mirror hanging on the far wall. It crashed to the ground, cracking the hardwood floor where it had landed. Senator Andrew Wallis off the Market? Oh, no, not if she has anything to do with it! He belonged to her and not that interfering little Ranger bitch. She was nice when she gave her a warning on the expressway that day. Now, she will have to die. And when she does, he will be hers. She paced, working off the extra energy created by her anger. Her mind whirled as she planned, carefully. Her careful planning is why the police had not caught up with her yet. Nor would they. She was careful not to leave any evidence, so careful. Then again paying attention to details was her bread and butter and her bread was well buttered.

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She felt the anger welling up again, an anger that was so difficult to contain. She did contain it, as she had contained it for so many years, but she will not it contain for much longer. The demons trapped in her were surging to the surface, struggling to break the barriers she had erected to keep them imprisoned. Enraged, she grabbed a precious figurine from a nearby shelf, flinging it against a far wall. A smile of pleasure crept across her face as the delicate porcelain smashed into smithereens. Drawing in several gasping breaths, she forced the demons back into their prison. Counting backwards from one hundred, her pace slowed as she calmed, she picked up her bag, calming the tempest that swirled within. She pulled the door shut behind her as she slung the bag’s shoulder strap over her shoulder. A pleasant smile on her face, she waved cheerily to her neighbor. An elderly woman of an indeterminate age, Mrs. Wilson was bent over her flowerbed, a straw hat covering her white hair. Spotting her, Mrs. Wilson sat back on her haunches, lifting her gloved hand and returning the cheery wave, the geranium she was transferring into a hand painted pot forgotten. She sighed as Mrs. Wilson waved her over. She didn’t want to go, but what can a neighborly person do? Grimacing slightly as her new black Kenneth Cole shoes sank into the recently sprinkled lawn, each step she took made a small indent in the grass, green footsteps that seemed to dog her own steps. “Good morning, Mrs. Wilson.” The older woman smiled, the wrinkles on her face tightening as she did so. “Do you like this pot, dearie? I found this little ceramic store in town where you can paint these darling little things. Oh, and they have everything from cups to pots, even plates and little figurines. It is such a wonderful place.” The pot was a hideous creation of bright purple dotted with little yellow splotches that masqueraded as daffodils, with little yellow and black splotches happily buzzing between the flower-like blobs. “It’s beautiful.” She hid her disgust carefully behind a serene mask.

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Smiling happily, Mrs. Wilson placed the pot carefully on the ground, “Next time I go, dearie, I will make you one too. I think a pink one would look beautiful on your windowsill.” Stifling a groan, she nodded a forced smile on her face. “Thank you, Mrs. Wilson. I have to go now. I have a meeting.” “Is it the Make a Wish thing, dear?” “Yes, Mrs. Wilson.” Before Mrs. Wilson could respond, she turned, and returned to her driveway, following her steps back to the car. It was not a good idea to hang around too much longer. Mrs. Wilson was one of those people who gave her dull little life some flavor by living vicariously through others. Unfortunately, those others tended to be limited to the tabloids, celebrity rags, the society section and Harlequin romances. The subject of Andrew Wallis’ romantic engagement to a simple little Texas Ranger would be too much for her to resist commenting on.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The week flew by like a bullet train. Shopping was a joy. Eating was an adventure. Sleeping was restful. The sex was wonderful. All was right with the world. Jesse now looked around and saw the world through rose-colored glasses, not the cynical, gray ones she usually wore. Returning to work was a change of pace, as well. Playing bodyguard to Andrew for those few weeks almost made her forget the hustle and bustle of headquarters. She gently touched her finger to her temple, rubbing her sore spot. There were still a couple of stitches left, however, the wound was healing nicely and the doctor had given her a clean bill of health. Looking around, she heaved a sigh, as the shrill call of a telephone demanding to be answered drove through her skull like a jackhammer. Despite the beauty of the wood panels, they still did nothing to keep the ambient noise level down to anything below a dull roar. She wondered with regret if a few more weeks of this would make her take off the rose-colored glasses she had grown to love. “Alive?” Angelo set a steaming cup of coffee down on the desk in front of her. “Or dead?” She shot daggers at her partner even as she mumbled her appreciation. “Ask me after I drink the coffee.” Her hands wrapped around the warm coffee mug that proudly asked all that read it ‘Have You Kissed a Cop Today?’ “So, what have you got on the Wallis case?” A grin crossed his face as he planted himself on the edge of her desk, despite the fact that his desk was facing hers. “You’re not getting away that easily, kiddo. Stinson and Washington, not to mention the Houston Chronicle, have already told everyone in the company that you and Senator Wallis are engaged. Speaking of engaged, where is the ring? Speaking of ring. I should be rather put out that I had to hear about the engagement through the grapevine and not directly out of the horse’s mouth.” She could feel the flush creeping into her face as he spoke. Even with her advanced years and many years in the crude company of many male peace officers, she was still embarrassed when her

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personal life was discussed, what little there was of it, with friends and colleagues. Reaching into her shirt, she pulled a thin gold chain from around her neck, from which the beautiful emerald hung. “Didn’t want to wear it while I am working. And you were at Disney World when it happened.” Angelo whistled in appreciation as he leaned forward to examine the sparkling jewel. “Nice. I understand why you don’t want to wear it with the scum we routinely deal with. It must be worth like a year’s salary.” “Try more like three or four years salary.” Jesse smiled as she tried to turn her partner’s attention back to the matter at hand. “The Wallis case...” she prompted. He sighed, much preferring to discuss his partner’s love life, now that there is finally a love life to discuss. He turned his mind back to the job they were paid to do. “There is very little we have to follow up on. We have a basic profile of the women that have been killed. Society girls with jobs who fit the type of woman the Senator dated.” He glanced wryly at her. “Until now. You, Jesse, broke his pattern. “We know that Senator Wallis dated both victims. Julie Whitmore was found recently, stabbed to death as with the first victim, Jeannine Marshall. Like Jeannine, Julie was missed a body part, her hands. Unlike with Jeannine, the killer took both hands and they have not been delivered to the Senator. Nor have they been found.” He looked up at her, concern etched into his face. “You do realize that if this is some sicko who is in love with him, that he would try to kill you again.” She nodded grimly as she put down the pen she had been making notes with. “I’ll admit that I hope that the killer tries to target me again. I can protect myself better than one of the Muffies that Andrew dated in the past.” “Muffies?” Angelo chuckled at the nickname. “Yeah, you know, society rich girls whose entire life is dedicated to making sure that they make their weekly hair appointment at Salon Pompadour and own more shoes than Imelda Marcus.” “Okay. So, you have any ideas?” “Well, we are definitely talking about someone who is obsessed with Senator Wallis. My guess

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is that it is a woman who is in love with the man and she is upset that she has not been shown the love, affection, and attention that he has shown the women that he date. By killing them, she is removing her competition and demanding attention from the object of her affection.” Leaning back in her chair, she idly played with the cheap plastic pens that the Department of Public Safety ordered by the caseload. She raised an eyebrow as she took a quick count of the pens in the plastic holder. The number had depleted dramatically in the time she was gone. Glaring at the other Rangers in the bullpen, she scowled, wondering who vandalized her supply of writing implements. Cursing, she turned her ire on her partner, “Angelo! You were supposed to protect my pens!” He raised a matching eyebrow at the outburst. “I am under no obligation to watch your pens, Jesse. Besides, I think you can afford to buy a few pens, now. Actually, I think that bauble that you are wearing around your neck could keep this office in pens for at least a few years.” She let the subject drop, offering only a grimace in answer. Despite the overall noise of the room, they sat quietly brooding over the possibilities. The file sat open in Jesse’s lap, leaned against the table. Her fingers kept busy as she continued to twirl the pen in her hands, occasionally bringing it to her mouth to nibble upon the blue cap. Exchanging her pen for her coffee mug, she queried, “So, who is your suspect?” Startled at her sudden desire for conversation, he paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “The butler? You know what they say.” “Hampton?” The thought of the staid butler at the Wallis estates planning and executing two gruesome murders was so absurd that Jesse barely managed to keep from snorting a mouthful of hot coffee through her nose. “Well, the butler always does it.” He shrugged amused at the shade of red her face turned as she tried desperately to keep the hot coffee from choking her. “But, seriously, we have gone through a few of the more suspicious letters that the Senator has received recently. Unfortunately, the writers are normally anonymous and there is no return address. We sent them to the lab to be fingerprinted. With any luck, we’ll get a match, though I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

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She nodded in acknowledgement. “If we get a hit, I’ll be booking my plane reservations to Chicago to see the Cubs play in the World Series.” Angelo snorted in something between disgust and amusement. “Cute.” Jesse flashed her partner a grin. She loved to rile Angelo about his devotion to the Chicago Cubs, despite their fifty-year losing streak. He had spent his formative years living on Chicago’s North side. Angelo never missed a Cubs game on television. When he could help it, that is, and with the advent of TiVo and satellite television, he never did. “What about the assistant?” Angelo looked up. “Ana Lopez?” She shook her head, though not convincingly. She grimaced as she thought. “She is very intelligent, and she is most definitely loyal to Andrew, however, I don’t know she could do something that vicious.” “What about one of his ex-girlfriends?” She sent him a nasty look. Not wanting to think of about how many women came before her. “I don’t think that he has dated as many women as the tabloids say he has. But any one of them could have an infatuation I suppose. Alison Hargrove has made it clear that she intends to marry him next.” “But would she kill for that?” “No, she would probably hire it done. She pretty well destroyed her ex-husband in the divorce. If I remember the reports correctly, she bided her time, waiting to catch her husband in flagrante with his mistress and to track the payments he made to her upkeep. She pretty much got everything she wanted in the divorce.” “So, no?” She shook her head. “I doubt it. This is someone who is completely obsessed with Andrew. If the killer hated him, then he would target Andrew, not his dates.” Angelo nodded. The shrill ringing of the telephone cut off any other conversation. “Walker,” she barked into the receiver.

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Angelo stood and moved to perch on the edge of her desk as he listened to her end of the conversation and the look of relief on her face. She looked around and made a writing motion in the air. He grabbed a pad off his desk and tossed it in front of her as she blindly reached for a notepad, her complete concentration on the phone call. Jotting down an address, she threw the phone back on the hook. “Looks like the Cubs are going to the World Series,” she says, not bothering to hide the amazement in her voice. Grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair, she stood, and ripped the page from the top of the pad. “We got a hit?” He sputtered as he rose from the desk, as though levitated by some unknown force. He reached over and grabbed the jacket from his chair as well. “Yeah, a Susan Blackwell. Apparently, she has several previous arrests for stalking, as well as making threats. They’re faxing us her sheet as we speak.” True to her word, the fax machine in the corner suddenly sprang to life. Angelo snatched the pages from the machine as they walked by, reading it as they rushed to the car. “This woman is a piece of work. She belongs to every known right-wing organization that we know about and probably some that we didn’t know about. She has sent letters to almost every senator, and a couple to the President. And she worked for the Wallis Corporation for six months.” He paused by the nondescript police vehicle that Jesse had just checked out this morning. Her car, well, was still in pieces and the insurance company was taking their own sweet time paying the claim. They claimed that she was on police business at the time of the accident, and hence, her personal insurance wouldn’t cover it.

Of course, getting anything out of the department was a mess of

bureaucratic red tape. He opened the passenger door, his eyes still fixated on the rap sheet in front of him and slid in beside her as she started the car. “She was arrested for stalking her ex-boyfriend and apparently attacked him with a knife. She was sent to a state mental institution for a year.” Jesse shook her head as she pulled their vehicle out of the police garage. “Want to call for some

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local back-up?” “We probably should. We never know what could happen.” Angelo called their request through to dispatch. Putting the mike back onto the radio installed in the dash, he breathed in a deep sigh. “So, are you up for this?” “Me?” She took her eyes off the road to fix him with an incredulous stare. “Have you ever known me not to be up for something?” “The accident you had last week was kind of bad.” “And the doctor cleared me to return to work.” She wanted to be angry that her reliability was being questioned, but she just couldn’t seem to get up enough anger to be mad. “I feel fine. Seriously.” “Seriously?” “Seriously.”

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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

They rode the rest of the way in companionable silence. The tension in the air was palatable as they both kept an eagle eye on the vehicles around them, allowing a healthy amount of paranoia to creep in. Neither could put the fact that someone had tried to kill Jesse a week ago out of their minds and, with the killer still on the loose, that the murderer may be in any one of the cars around them. The city gradually gave way to the manicured streets of the suburbs. The streets were well tended with rows of identical homes save for the little added touches and the occasional addition built onto the small ranch style homes. Jesse slowed as they drove past the home. Unlike the others, there didn’t seem to be anything to distinguish it from the plain cardboard cutout homes that the builders built. In fact, the building looked oddly unoccupied. “Are you sure we have the right address?” Jesse asked, looking over at Angelo, who had been scanning the street. “I guess so, you wrote it down.” He picked up the radio and reconfirmed the address with dispatch. After a quick conversation, he put the mike back on its holder and nodded. “Yep, we got the right one. It looks deserted.” “That could be good or that could be bad.” Jesse scanned the street again. “Our backup is here. They sent Houston PD.” Angelo turned in his seat, looking out through the back window. He saw the two squad cars, traveling with their lights off, pulling onto the street and pausing at the end of the block awaiting further directions. “Oh, great. Want to turn around and we’ll have a chat with them?” Jesse nodded as she took the car around the block, not wanting to alert the inhabitants should they have been looking out the window. Pulling alongside the two police cars, Jesse and Angelo stepped out of their vehicle. Knowing the signal for an impromptu car hood conference, the four

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officers met them in front of the unmarked vehicle. Angelo went to the back of the car, opening the trunk and removing two bulletproof vests. Meeting Jesse and the other officers around front, he silently handed one of the vests to Jesse, who thanked him with a silent nod of her head. “The suspect is one Susan Blackwell. She is a suspect in at least two murders, not to mention assorted other misdemeanors and lesser felonies. We are running under the assumption that the woman is armed and extremely dangerous. She briefed the other officers while she slipped the vest over the chambray shirt she wore. “We have an arrest warrant for Ms. Blackwell, and a search warrant for the residence and any out buildings, such as a shed or a garage. Gonzalez and I will attempt to serve the warrant from the front door.” Pointing to the officers, she quickly assigned locations. “You two will cover the rear entrance, while the two of you cordon the area. We don’t want to put any nosy neighbors in the line of fire. Any questions?” The gathered officers shook their heads, acknowledging the plan as it was told to them. They broke apart, returning to their vehicles, adrenaline rushing through them as promised action edged ever closer. For, Jesse, it was hopefully, the end of a nightmare and the beginning of a new life together. Jesse deftly pulled their car down the street, pulling into the driveway with a squad car pulling up behind her. Stepping out of the vehicle, Jesse waited for Angelo to fall in beside her, their weapons in hand. Taking up positions on either side of the door, Jesse pounded on the door. “Texas Rangers. Open the door. We have a search warrant for the premises.” Jesse counted to thirty before slamming her fist against the door once again, identifying herself. The seconds ticked by as they waited for the door to open. Jesse met Angelo’s eyes, a question silently exchanged between them, his agreement signaled by a nod. Angelo moved, ready to back her up as Jesse took a step back. She drew in a deep breath before slamming her upraised foot into the door, splintering the thick wood. She pulled back for another kick, however, the distinctive click of a hammer pulling back

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immediately sent Jesse diving to the side, barely clearing the shotgun blast that left a gaping hole in the splintered door, directly at chest height. Jesse slammed her back against the wall, her breath coming in fast gasps. Another blast ripped through the door, shredding what was left of the door. Instinctively, they turned their heads away, shielding their faces from the flying splinters. Angelo sucked in a breath, cutting off a muttered oath as a wooden shard embedded itself into his arm, cutting through the denim as though it were paper. “You want to go first or you want me to?” Jesse asked from her semi-crouched position. She already knew the answer to that question. Angelo hated to get hurt, even minorly, as his wife would again try to pressure him into resigning and taking a safer job. She was shocked when he motioned that he would be the first through the door. With a roar that rivaled a wounded grizzly, Angelo charged shattering what was left of the door. He went low, rolling up to be greeted by the sound of a double-barreled shotgun being reloaded. Popping up, he sent two bullets from his Sig Sauer into the chest of his attacker, just as she was bringing the shotgun back to bear upon him. The shotgun slipped out of her hand as the woman staggered back, falling lifeless onto the cold linoleum of the kitchen. Jesse entered cautiously as Angelo picked himself up off the ground. The sound of the backdoor splintering caused both of them to jump out of their skin as the two officers guarding the back broke in, their weapons leading in response to the weapons fire. Signaling to the officers to cover the area, Jesse and Angelo slowly moved through the filthy house, the smell of rotting food pervading the house. Jesse’s nose wrinkled in disgust as she moved through the small barely furnished rooms and the few pieces of furniture in the rooms was early Salvation Army. Stepping into the bedroom, the source of the acrid smell was obvious by the piles of garbage stacked in the room, some wrapped in plastic bags and some strewn about the rooms haphazardly. In the midst of the piles was a stained old mattress. “You’d better come and see this.” Angelo called out from the second room. Lowering her weapon, she joined Angelo in the doorway, her eyes popping at the sight that

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greeted her. Covering each wall and ceiling, were pictures of Andrew Wallis, pictures of every type, from magazines and newspapers. Her weapon lowered as she took in the disturbing sight. Taking a deep breath, she entered the room slowly, Angelo directly behind her. He whistled in amazement as he took in the shrine. His hand brushed the unlit candles standing on a small table, covered in wax, giving testimony to the sheer number of candles which had been lit and burnt down to the nub. Candles covered every available surface in the room, Jesse noted, long white tapers, small fragrant white candles in glass candleholders, votive candles, some new, and others in various stages of use. All white. Considering the state of the rest of the house, this room was in pristine, almost sterile, condition. A stack of photos sitting beside a camera with a telephoto lens on the desk caught her eye. Pulling a pair of latex gloves from her pocket she slipped them on before examining the pictures. Her heart skipped a beat as it caught in her throat. The pictures were of Andrew, some at work, others at home, and others at public functions. She breathed through clenched teeth and cursed. “Oh, my God.” Angelo breathed as he looked over her shoulder. There were pictures of Andrew on his dates with Jeanine Marshall and Julie Whitmore. Angry red slashes cut through the face of each woman. At the bottom was a photo of Jesse and Andrew, on their shopping trip. Again, slashes crossed Jesse’s face. Gently, Angelo freed the photos from Jesse’s fingers, frozen in place, clenched around the photos. “Jesse, snap out of it. We got her. She’s not going to be hurting anyone else anymore.” An hour later, she was still in shock. She operated on autopilot while she and Angelo secured the crime scene for the crime scene unit and waited for the coroner to arrive to collect the body. Vaguely, she remembered Angelo ushering her out of the shrine, his face a mask of concern. She snorted. Of course, he was concerned. She didn’t know what came over her. In all her years of police work, she had never lost control like that. Scrubbing both hands across her face, she expelled a long deep breath and she lowered her face to cradle them in her hands. This love thing, despite all its wonderful ups, when it hits a down, it hits hard. Save for the occasional weapon pointed in her direction, it has never touched her so intimately

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before. Of course, what could she expect right? She fell in love with the man she had sworn to protect. This was probably karma shaking its finger at her and saying bad Jesse, no biscuit. “Hey, you okay?” Shifting her fingers aside a little, she glimpsed a pair of black cowboy boots tipped with silver. Running her eyes up the person in front of her, she groaned. “What dragged you out from behind your comfy desk, Adam?” Her eyes lit up at the paper cup emblazoned with the Starbucks logo he offered. Reaching out, she asked hopefully. “Caramel Machiatto?” “Would I bring you anything else?” He asked with a twinkle in his eye. Lowering himself down onto the ground next to where she sat, leaning against the garage door. “That shrine was pretty scary, wasn’t it?” She sniffed the coffee, a smile on her face, a smile that turned to a gaze of absolute pleasure as she took a sip of the steamy liquid. His question slapped her in the face, snapping her out of her flavored coffee induced ecstasy. “It was worse than scary, Adam. I don’t know how to describe it. When I saw them I felt cold all over. The obvious threat to me didn’t bother me. Damn, you know how many times I have been shot at, threatened, bruised, and beaten, but the invasion of my privacy. That just...” She trailed off, the frustration and anger that tinged her voice had grown stronger and stronger with each word until it seemed to choke her. Adam nodded, wrapping his arm around her shoulder in a big brother hug. “I know. But look at it this way, its over.” “Yeah, it’s over,” she murmured as she stared off into the distance.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

This was totally insane! Someone must have locked Jesse Walker away and spoken for her when she agreed to go to this party—correction, fundraiser—a fundraiser that will be the talk of the society pages. At least, until the next fundraiser. Turning to face the full-length mirror, she contemplated the figure reflected at her. Andrew had insisted on purchasing the Vera Wang designer gown—a gown that cost half her salary.

The

saleswoman was right, though, the dress did look beautiful on her. The strapless bodice was molded fit her shape, flowing into a full skirt that skimmed her ankles. The emerald silk complemented her red hair and her emerald eyes perfectly. Sticking her foot out, she wiggled it as she admired the matched green lightly heeled pumps. Of course, the boutique where they found the dress would have shoes to match. The dress matched her engagement ring perfectly as well. The 3-carat emerald sparkled against her fair skin. Deep breath. Another. And another. Jesse quietly reminded herself to perform that basic mental function. What would Dad do now? He’d say, buck up Jesse. You’re a Walker and you’re better than any of them! She took another deep, reassuring breath before picking up the translucent green shawl from its place flung over the mirror, another purchase insisted upon by Andrew. “We’re going to be married.” He insisted when she objected to the expense. “My money is your money and it really doesn’t matter! I love you and I want you to have everything!” He had come up behind her, his image reflected three times in the triple-sided mirror in front of her. She had turned to look at him. “You are everything that I need, Andrew. I don’t need a dress or a shawl or shoes or anything else.” But she had walked out of there with the dress and the shawl, the shoes, even frilly silk

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undergarments. It was embarrassing to need the salesperson show her how to snap those stupid plastic hooks on the garter around the silk stockings. All in all, it was a wonderfully fun, and expensive, shopping trip. Not that she would ever admit it. Taking one last glance at herself in the mirror, she turned and left the room. She did everything that she could think of to avoid being stereotyped as a typical woman, and here she was, thirty minutes after he was ready to go, still trying to get ready. Andrew had thrown his hands up in mock frustration after waiting for her for five minutes. Typical woman, he had commented, just before he quit the room quickly to avoid the shoe that she had thrown at him. Swiftly, she walked down the well-carpeted hallway, pausing at the top of the marble stairwell. She stared. Andrew was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, dressed to kill in a fitted Armani tuxedo, talking on the phone. She stood, frozen as she watched him gesture animatedly as he spoke. Pulling the phone from his ear, he slapped it down on the table by the door. Turning, he froze. Her eyes met his. His eyes met hers. They locked. It was a fulfillment of her fairy tale, she thought. Fate chose to allow her fairy tale to come true. Slowly, she floated down the stairs—at least she hoped she was floating and not just making an utter fool out of herself—as he waited, his eyes never leaving her. The desire shining in his eyes was reflected in her own. Her heart fluttered, her breath came in ragged gasps. He was so handsome, so totally spectacular and he was waiting for her. The endless walk came to an abrupt end as her foot touched the bottom the stair and his hand reached out to take hers. “You are stunning,” Andrew said, the awe reflected in his voice. “You’re not exactly a slouch yourself.” “Turn around and close your eyes,” he ordered. When she complied, he slipped the gorgeous emerald necklace around her neck and fastened it, glistening against her fair skin. He gently steered her towards an ornate mirror, “Open your eyes, darling.” “It’s beautiful, Andrew. But it’s too much!” she gasped.

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She remembered the necklace. It was in the display case at Warner Jewels. She had admired them briefly, however, her frugal instinct refused to allow them more than a casual glance and wistful sigh. Her eyes widened as he dangled the matching earrings in front of her, waiting for her to put them on. Reaching out, she took them from him, turning back to face the mirror as she slipped them onto her ears. “This is worth a small fortune!” “Then I am lucky to have a Texas Ranger to protect them, aren’t I?” He wrapped his arms around her and gently kissed the hollow of her neck. “You look beautiful, Jesse.” She turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I look ridiculous. I’m probably going to trip and fall flat on my face in these things.” “You look wonderful, darling. Where is that confident, tough cop that I fell in love with? Huh?” He grinned teasingly as he chucked her underneath her chin. “Come on. Where is she?” Jesse tried to look unamused. Truly, she tried, but her resolve soon broke and she laughed as she swatted his hand away. “Stop it. I left that Jesse upstairs with my jeans.” “I think you are beautiful and wonderful, and you will be the most enchanting creature there tonight.” He stared into her eyes as he slowly lowered his head down to her, gently melding his lips to hers in a gentle caress. The caress deepened as he took possession of her mouth, tasting her, drinking in her very essence. He smothered a curse, as she not so gently stepped on his foot. Placing a finger over his lips, she shook her head, “No fair getting me hot and bothered just before we go out for a night on the town. Or we might not make it.” A twinkle appeared in her eyes as she pulled him towards her once again. “Then again, that might not be such a bad idea.” Duty warred with desire as she kissed him deeply, the desire she felt giving force to the kiss. His arms tightened around her willing body as he drew her close, pressing his body against hers as he took control of the kiss. She melted, doing a good imagination of the wicked Witch of the West as she turned into a little puddle at his delightful assault. His strong arms were all that was supporting her and keeping her from

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falling limply at his feet. Finally, he pulled away, an overwhelmed smile on his face. “I love you.” Always a politician, she thought as she certainly couldn’t think clearly after that last assault on her senses. “I love you.” There was nothing else that seemed appropriate at a time like this. “We should go,” he said softly, reluctantly. “Do we have to?” He exploded with laughter at the dread in her voice. “Yes, we have to.”

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Looking around the magnificent ballroom, Jesse decided that it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. She took a sip of champagne, the one glass she started the evening with and had nursed all night. Admittedly, the drink was getting warm, but the temptation to get stinking drunk was too strong and the open bar made it way too easy. She shook her head in amusement as a drunken couple staggered past her, giggling in that animated way one can only accomplish when three sheets to the wind. Andrew was definitely a pro at being a politician. Jesse couldn’t help but admire the way he worked the room, most of the time steering her gently with his hand at the small of her back, introducing her to the crème de la crème of Houston society. Now, she stood back, a plate of hors d’oeuvres in one hand and warm champagne in the other, watching Andrew discuss the legalities and ethics of the death penalty with two conservative Republicans. “You look almost like a lady.” A voice whispered in her ear. “But I know better.” Barely catching herself before the food on her plate slipped off to decorate the floor, she spun around. “Damn it, Daniel! You scared the life out of me. What are you doing here?” “As a valued member of the District Attorney’s office, it was in my best interest to be here.” He grinned as he snatched a chilled shrimp from her plate. “And you are here with Andrew?” She rolled her eyes in response as she watched him pop her shrimp into his mouth and chew slowly. “Who else would I be here with? Who are you here with?” She followed the direction he pointed to stopping at a tall statuesque blonde in a clingy red dress that revealed more then it covered. “You can’t be serious. What happened to Maria?” “Her name is Alorna Waters,” he said with a smile. “Maria and I broke up last week.”

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“I liked Maria. Are you ever going to have a relationship that lasts more than a week?” “God willing?” He asked with a twinkle in his eye. “No. Seriously, Jesse, you look totally marvelous. You should have the photographer take a picture of you to send to Mom. No, maybe you shouldn’t. She would be so surprised at the way you look, she’d keel over from a heart attack.” “Why bother? I know that at least a dozen flashbulbs went off when we arrived. I am sure that it will be in every newspaper in Texas.” Jesse muttered as she took another small sip of her champagne. She grimaced at the taste. “Man, I hate warm champagne.” “So, get another one.” In a well-practiced motion, her brother swiftly snagged a fresh glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Deftly, he exchanged the fresh flute for the warm one in her hand. “He is working the room like a pro.” “I don’t want another one. It is way too easy to get stinking drunk and he is a pro. Hate to remind you of that. I know you hate politicians.” She contemplated the fresh glass as it argued with her common sense. Her attention distracted, he snatched another tidbit from her plate, this time a BBQ chicken satay. She reached out to smack his hand, but was just a moment too slow to effectively punish her kleptomaniac brother. “Get your own!” “Why? Yours are so much easier.” He grinned. His grin changed to a look of lascivious desire as Alorna Waters sashayed toward them, every one of her steps designed to make a man drool and a woman want to snap her neck. “You abandoned me, darling.” The blonde slipped behind Daniel, wrapping her arms around his neck. The woman, in her five-inch stiletto heels, stood almost head to head with her strapping six-foot plus brother. She spared Jesse a long, appraising look, immediately dismissing her as someone who was not any competition for her current target’s affections. “Do you know who is here, Daniel? Andrew Wallis. He is such a darling. And he is single.” Jesse bit back a smart-ass comment. She really wasn’t worth the effort after all. “He is engaged, you know.”

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The blonde laughed, oblivious to Jesse’s statement, a practiced, overly loud and overly cheerful laugh, one designed to draw attention to her. “Andrew and I are old friends. Unfortunately, I have been away on a photo shoot in Venice.” The amused look from Daniel did nothing to calm Jesse. She didn’t like the way the blonde stressed old friends. A green haze drifted in front of her eyes, obscuring all reason. Meeeeooowwww, Jesse thought as she gripped her glass and plate tighter, the white of her knuckles a beacon of warning to all those approaching. Daniel gave his companion a light kiss on the nose as he drew her to his side, his arm possessively wrapped around her waist. “It isn’t nice to talk about old friends in the company of new friends.” “Andrew!” Alorna rushed forward grabbing the unsuspecting male. Her hands imprisoned his chiseled cheeks, she kissed him, long, hard and demanding. Finally, letting him up for air, she grinned at him, enjoying the cherry-red lipstick mark she left on his mouth. “It’s been a long time since we were together,” she purred.

*****

This was what hell must be like. Andrew looked from his former flame to Jesse. The look of murder in her eyes was enough to scare any onlookers and Alorna was completely oblivious to the danger her life was in. “It has been awhile, Alorna,” Andrew stammered. He could not help but wonder who Jesse was going to kill first, him or the offending blonde. “How are you?” “Is that how you greet an old friend, Andrew?” Her red lips turned down in a well-practiced pout. The stem of the champagne flute snapped cleanly in half as a surge of anger flowed through Jesse’s body. “Why don’t I leave you to your old friend, Andrew?”

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“Jesse, no!” Andrew pushed past Alorna with the speed of a desperate man. Grabbing her by the arm, he pulled her into his embrace. “I love you, remember that.” Her green-eyes flashed, “Not when you have her lipstick all over your mouth.” Reaching into his pocket, but maintaining his hold on Jesse, he withdrew a clean white handkerchief, and wiped it desperately across his lips, obliterating all trace of the blonde’s assault. “I love you, Jesse.” The warmth in his eyes and the tenderness in his voice washed away the anger with a tidal wave of love. Reaching out, she gently touched his cheek. “I love you, too, Andrew.” The sound of Daniel clearing his throat broke into their emotional moment. Turning, they both turned to stare at Daniel, who had the gape-mouthed Alorna tightly by the waist, reining her in. “You two are making a scene.” “What is going on, Andrew?” Alorna demanded, refusing to be ignored. “This is Jesse Walker, Daniel’s sister and my fiancé.” Andrew made the introductions, his arm around Jesse, holding her comfortingly and protectively. “Your fiancé, Andrew?” Alorna repeated in disbelief. “Yes, her fiancé.” Cassandra Warner said with a satisfied smile as she and her husband, Lorne joined the group. Relief flowed through Jesse as the stylish woman and her husband joined them. It was obvious she had an ally in her. Cassandra was dressed in a classic strapless white sheath with some well-placed rhinestones making her dress sparkle. Her long blond hair twisted in a French braid and a beautiful three-tiered diamond choker adorned her graceful neck. Matching dangling earrings and bracelet completed the look of the elegantly wealthy. “Jesse, you haven’t met my husband, Lorne. Lorne, this is Jesse Walker, Andrew’s fiancée.” “Pleased to meet you, Jesse,” Lorne said, a twinkle in his eye a teasing grin on his face. Jesse had to admit that Lorne was a handsome man, with his wavy dark-brown hair and brown eyes. His tailored tuxedo fit snugly over broad shoulders. “So, how did you do it?”

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Jesse smiled in response to the warmth in his voice as she took his hand. “Do what?” “Catch our perennial bachelor?” Lorne chuckled, remembering those many conversations about the virtues and the evils of marriage. Jesse blushed, not sure why she was blushing. Stalling for time, she grabbed her brother by the arm. “Did you meet my brother, Daniel? He is with the District Attorney’s office. Daniel, this is Lorne Warner and his wife Cassandra.” Daniel nodded politely at Cassandra as he shook Lorne’s pro-offered hand exchanging the necessary pleasantries. “My sister was just being her usual charming self.” Andrew gave Jesse a squeeze. “You’re right, Daniel, she is charming.” Jesse saw Cassandra shoot Alorna a look of triumph as she and her husband effectively cut the woman out of the conversation. She thanked God that Cassandra came to her rescue. She wouldn’t have known what to do, short of throwing a punch that is. Tossing her lush blonde hair, Alorna turned and stalked away. Turning her attention back to the conversation at hand, Cassandra smiled triumphantly at Jesse. “So, when is the wedding?” “Next month.” Andrew answered immediately. “Next month? My, that is fast,” Cassandra fanned herself with her hand in an exaggerated Southern Belle swoon. “He’s afraid that she will realize that she is making a big mistake and is going to run for the hills.” Lorne teased, punching his buddy in the arm. Despite Jesse’s reservations about the evening, she found herself enjoying the easy camaraderie that developed with the Warners, especially Cassandra, who seemed to have sensed the dissention that Alorna stirred up between Andrew and her. The two even drew her brother into their little circle without reservation. “Little girls’ room?” Cassandra queried. It was obviously a rhetorical question as Cassie excused them from the gentlemen without waiting for an answer and expertly steered Jesse towards the

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elegantly appointed restrooms. Before the door even closed behind them, Cassandra exploded. “You are seriously planning on getting married in a month?” Jesse nodded, staring towards the bathroom stalls, wondering why they were here if Cassandra didn’t have to use the facilities. Suddenly realization hit her. Girl talk in the bathroom was one of the mysteries of femininity that she, growing up with four older brothers and always the perennial tomboy, managed not to explore up to this point in her life. “Andrew has been rather adamant about it. And, as he puts it, he has more than enough money to throw my mother’s dream wedding with short notice, why shouldn’t we do it?” “Oh, and don’t let Alorna Waters bother you. Rumor is that woman slept her way through most of Houston society, both male and female. At least that is how the rumor went. She wants to marry wealthy, while they want what is between her legs. “Did you see Alison Hargrove? She was positively livid when she saw you walk in here with Andrew.” Cassandra crowed as she pulled a compact out of the petite white satin purse she carried and parked herself in front of the vanity. She dabbed at a shiny spot on her nose, “I don’t know how she could have missed it. Your entire shopping trip had been chronicled in the society section of the paper. Your recent bust of the person who was threatening Andrew’s stalker had some pretty decent coverage, too. “You didn’t know?” She spun in her seat to face Jesse as she noted the look of shock on Jesse’s face. “No, I don’t normally read the society pages.” Jesse sank down on one of the lavish and remarkably well padded settee in the anteroom of the bathroom. “It was in the paper?” “Complete with pictures, dear,” she said cheerfully. Turning her attention back to her reflection in the mirror, she carefully outlined her lips with a sharp lipstick pencil. “A picture?” Jesse looked as though she was in shock, her face pale, her eyes wide. “There was a picture in the paper of us? Shopping?”

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“More like a pictorial review,” she laughed. The look of utter shock in the younger woman’s face startled Cassandra. She was well used to her social life and occasionally her personal life, to be the stuff of the local tabloids. But this was obviously new to her. Putting down the lipstick she had just finished applying to her lips, she moved over to the couch and put her arm around Jesse’s shoulder, comforting her. “It’s not that bad, Jesse. You get used to it after awhile. It is something that you will have to get used to if you are going to marry Andrew. He is a politician and a scion of one of the most respected and wealthy families in Texas.” Why did her mental faculties abandon her now? This was not the first time that Jesse made the news. It was certainly a big human-interest story when she became a Texas Ranger, making five Rangers from the same family serving and protecting at the same time. Then there was the five o’clock news when her father was shot down in that convenience store. However, this time, it was something so innocuous as a shopping trip with Andrew. “They took pictures of us?” Cassandra nodded in sympathy. “With the graininess of the photos, I would guess that the shots were taken from the street, through the display window.” “Who is Alison Hargrove?” Jesse asked, suddenly realizing that that was how the entire topic started. “Alison Hargrove is recently divorced from Jonathan Hargrove, the technology billionaire. I am sure you heard about that divorce.” Jesse nodded. Everyone heard about the divorce. It made for great local headlines and tabloid fodder complete with infidelity, pornography, and billions at stake. Not to mention the beautiful Alison Hargrove and the techno-geekiness of Jonathan Hargrove. “Well, she had made no secret that Andrew was going to be her next target and that she was supposed to come to this function on his arm.” Cassandra grinned evilly. “We all know that things didn’t quite work out her way. You could just feel the animosity exuding from her every time she looked at Andrew.”

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“Oh, great.” She muttered. “Anyone else I can expect to hate me?” Cassandra laughed, “I hate to tell you this, Jesse, but half of the women in America probably hate you right now. Since John-John did a dive into the Atlantic, the women of the America have looked for a new, charming, young man, politician or not, to fall in love with and Andrew was slowly, but surely, creeping up to take that mantle. Definitely most of the single women in Houston hate your guts for taking their chances with him and flushing it down the toilet, but they are too well mannered to say anything. And the mommies with marriageable daughters who wanted a marriage to Andrew hate you too.” Jesse stared at her new friend with shocked horror as she processed what Cassandra said. However, the cheerfulness with which she said it and the utter ridiculousness of the situation slipped through the shocked haze made her chuckle. That chuckle slowly turned into gut-wrenching laughter. “So what you are trying to tell me is that I have gone from an unknown law-enforcement officer to the most hated woman in Texas?” “Yep!” Cassandra grinned widely. “How does it feel?” The laughter Jesse had tried to control returned with renewed strength at the self-satisfied and proud tone Cassandra used. “I am not really sure, Cassie. I think I am still a little shocked at the direction my life has taken. You know, I had pretty much resigned myself to being nothing more than the spinster aunt to my nieces and nephews and then, wham! Here I am engaged to the most eligible bachelor in the city with my face plastered across the society pages. It is a lot to get used to.” Cassandra gave her a quick squeeze. “You’re doing great and you look beautiful.” “Thanks.” Jesse returned the embrace. “Shall we?” Cassandra stood, grabbing the lipstick she left on the vanity and throwing it in her purse. Jesse nodded, her first true girl-talk giving her deflated ego some much-needed inflation. She had never really thought much of the girl-talks that her few female friends thrived on and she always avoided. Now, she wistfully wondered whether she would have liked the female bonding she so

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studiously avoided. Heaving a sigh, she forced herself off the settee and put a smile on her face. “As ready as I will ever be.” The two women exited the bathroom arm in arm, Jesse laughing as Cassandra made a rude remark under her breath about a passing matron’s rather loud dress. The portly woman turned to stare at the two, but they quickened their steps, laughing all the while.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Andrew and Lorne talked politics, law and sports with Daniel. With the recent rash of felonies committed by sports celebrities, the three seemed to fit well together. Of course, inevitably, the discussion changed to more pressing matters. “Cass and I read about your ring shopping in the society column last week, Andrew, and the arrest of your stalker this afternoon made the evening news.” Lorne deftly shifted the conversation. Andrew raised an eyebrow in confusion. “You did?” “I did, too,” Daniel said with a big grin. “And I am sure that it made it Mom as well. She was probably showing off to her friends all day. You didn’t know that it was in the society column?” “No, Jesse and I have been a little busy. Though I do wonder why Ana didn’t mention it. What were you doing reading the society pages?” Andrew gave him a sideways glance. “Figuring out how long it would take for your engagement to hit the papers. I won the bet.” “Bet?” “Yeah, between me and my brothers. Though, of course, not Adam, he is too mature to take bets on our sister’s life.” Daniel took a sip of his champagne. “Of course, that was after we decided not to beat your brains in.” He added the last so nonchalantly that Lorne burst out laughing, nearly choking on a sip of his scotch on the rocks. “May I ask how many brothers you have?” Daniel grinned. “Three. And I am the only one that is not a Texas Ranger.” “I assume that Jesse is the youngest of the five of you?” Daniel nodded with a big smile. Lorne gestured towards Andrew with his champagne glass, raising it just a little in a mock salute. “Sounds like you will have to keep Jesse happy.” Chuckling, Andrew agreed with Lorne. He had every intention of keeping Jesse happy, in all

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ways, regardless of the threat of being pulverized by four very large, very lethal men. Andrew was under no delusions that, despite Daniel’s relatively tame profession, he was every bit as dangerous as his brothers were. “I thought I started pretty well with that emerald necklace Jesse is sporting around her lovely neck.” “Jesse would be more impressed with a new gun,” Daniel said sarcastically. “She isn’t very feminine.” Andrew’s eyes softened as he thought just how feminine Jesse really was. He felt himself harden as he remembered their lovemaking, as he ran his hands down her incredibly soft flesh, cupping her pert breasts that fit perfectly in his hands. His sex shifted uncomfortably in the confines of his slacks. Forcing his mind from the soft femininity of Jesse back to the conversation at hand, which had thankfully changed from his private life to the Houston Oilers’ season and, soon, a debate ensued over whether or not they would make the playoffs. Thankfully, the distraction allowed him the time he needed to compose himself. More like to get your hard-on under control, he thought uncharitably. For some odd reason, it seemed that when a group of men got together, the conversation always shifted towards sports and the discussion always became more animated as the number of drinks imbibed increased. He was glad when the girls returned and the conversation turned civil again. He cleared his throat as Jesse’s gaze slipped down his body and fixed on the bulge destroying the lines of his suit. A Cheshire-cat grin on appeared on Cass’s face as Lorne slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her tightly up against his side, staking claim to his beautiful wife. “We thought the two of you ran off with some rich young studs.” Slapping his hands away and giggling, a red tinge creeping its way up the back of her neck to rest prominently on her face, she shook her head in mock consternation. “Oh, please. Get your hands off me, you big oaf! We had to fix our faces.” “More like ‘girl talk’,” Andrew teased, winking at Lorne and Daniel. “Probably talking about

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our performance in the bedroom.” “Andrew!” Jesse felt a flush enflame her face. “I think you embarrassed my baby sister, Andrew. Congratulations.” Daniel lifted his glass of champagne in a mock toast. “Oh, and you just shared way too much information. My sister is a virgin, and she will be such until the day she dies to her brothers.” Andrew laughed heartily, having already discovered the many facets to his fiancé. On one hand, she was a tough, self-assured Texas Ranger who dove headfirst into danger without thought to one’s own safety. On the other, she was embarrassed by what could easily be considered crude locker room humor. Perhaps that is why he loved her so much, that wonderfully appealing mixture of vulnerability and toughness. He reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly, as the discomfiture she had felt was replaced by irritation at her brother. “Them is fightin’ words, Andrew.” She growled at him. “And I look forward to the fight.” He teased a twinkle in his eye.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Those certainly were fightin’ words, and if the bout had lasted much longer, Andrew did not think that he could have lived through it. He sighed as much in exhaustion as in pleasure as he held her semi-nude body to his in the rear of the limo. He winced as he remembered how they had barely made it into the privacy of the car before they had taken one another ravenously. He had been ready to tear the dress from her body, but she had stopped him. Because the dress was too damn expensive to waste tearing off her body, she had said, even as he reached for the satiny fabric. Instead, she had hiked her dress up around her waist and lowered herself on his rigid manhood, rode him hard and put him out wet. Gently he kissed her on the top of her head, ruffling the slightly damp mop of red hair with his hand. He smiled as she sighed contently and snuggled a little closer, even as she self-consciously reached down and pulled her rumpled dress to cover her bare thighs. He continued to hold her tightly to him, only quietly waking her when he saw the lights of the estate in the distance, “We’re almost home, Jesse.” She mumbled something that was beyond his hearing. He shook her softly, whispering an explicit suggestion in her ear. A suggestion that caused her eyes to snap open in something akin to shock and her to spring up. “Andrew!” He laughed heartily. “Well, that certainly got you moving, now didn’t it?” He winced as her fist connected soundly with his arm. He was still laughing at her indignation when the chauffeur opened the door, a knowing smile on his otherwise impassive face. With another irate humph, she existed the vehicle, ignoring both Andrew and the driver, as she marched towards the front door. Racing to catch up to her, Andrew snagged her arm just as she passed Hampton, who had greeted

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them at the door. “Hey, what’s up?” “That was really crude, you know that?” She tossed at him, still perturbed. Though, truth be told, the suggestion, while completely rude, crude and socially unacceptable, intrigued her enough to want to try it out, after she felt that Andrew groveled enough. Considering his current performance, it should not take too long before they were wrapped in one another’s comforting arms. “Ms. Lopez is here to see you, sir.” Hampton informed Andrew as he entered the house close on Jesse’s heels, still pleading half-teasingly for her forgiveness. “Ana?” He stopped in his tracks as he looked towards the grandfather clock in the foyer. It was well after midnight, and long past quitting time. “What’s she doing here so late?” “I don’t know, sir,” Hampton said stiffly. “She is waiting in the study.” With a wry grimace, he shrugged at Jesse, who had stopped when Hampton made his announcement. “I’ll join you in just a minute?” Jesse smiled her assent. The little groveling game they were playing was fun, but, unfortunately, business came first. Her own schedule involved her being called out of bed at all hours of the night, whom was she to complain when he needed to take a late meeting. “I’m going to get a drink and then I will wait for you in bed.” Despite the lack of sexual overtones in her statement, Andrew felt his groin tighten in anticipation, and he vowed to finish his business as quickly as possible. Turning, he strode quickly down the plush carpeted hallway to his lushly appointed home office, a room not even remotely feminine with its dark hard wood and dark leather chairs. “What’re you doing here so late, Ana?” Andrew queried as he entered the room, pulling the door shut behind him. “And why are you sitting in the dark?”

*****

Ana sat in the comfortable leather executive chair, her eyes fixed on the laptop on his desk,

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intently studying the images on the screen, the glow from the screen lit her face in an eerie fashion. If it were not for the eerie glow, he probably would not even have seen her. Of course, why should he see her now? She had never been worthy of his notice before. It was time to end it, Ana had thought that day as she closed up the office, a benign smile on her face as she had wished him a good evening. She knew that he was going to the fundraiser with the slut. Their first public outing as a couple, she had thought uncharitably. The society pages had taunted her with stories about the young couple. Taunted and teased her. She normally brought Andrew’s attention to the articles describing his various and assorted assignations, but not these. Those other women were just dalliances, but this one was permanent and she hated the thought. Instead, she had ripped the articles into a million little pieces, scattering them on her living room floor, gathering them carefully later in a dustpan, and pouring them into the raging fire she had built in the fireplace. But tonight, tonight it ends. She was supposed to be by his side tonight, receiving the well wishes and congratulations on their engagement. However, the redheaded whore received the accolades. She snapped out of her thoughts as the lights flickered on as she blinked several times to force her eyes to adjust to the brightness of the lights. “Good evening, Andrew.” He raised his eyebrow in concern. Something wasn’t right. While he had never seen his assistant lose her composure, the calm and emotionless self-control in her voice was odd. In a way, it was downright creepy. “What seems to be the problem, Ana?” She rose slowly from her seated position, her moves slow and calculated, as she smoothed down the skirt to the prim navy blue business suit she wore. She moved around the desk as she walked towards where he was standing. “Do you know me, Andrew?” He had stopped his entry into the room after he had turned on the lights, not sure what was going through his assistant’s mind.

The look of detachment in her eyes worried him, as he answered

cautiously. “Of course, I know you, Ana. You’re Ana Lopez, my executive assistant.” She continued towards him, an indulgent smile on her face, a smile that did not reach her eyes. “I mean do you really know me, Andrew? I have been your assistant for more than ten years and yet

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you have never really seen me. Never saw past the efficient assistant to see the woman that yearned to be with you.” She came closer and he, instinctively, moved away from her approach, as he attempted to maintain some distance between them. Andrew did not know what to say. He only knew that he had to keep her from doing something seriously foolish. “Don’t run away, Andrew,” she chided softly and a little too calmly. “I love you and I know you love me. Those other women you were with were just diversions. I am your true love and the only one destined to be with you.” A thought snapped through his reeling senses. “Did you kill Julie and Jeannine?” “Of course I did. I had to keep them away from you. Don’t you understand, they weren’t for you. I am the only one for you.” She changed directions, skirting around a high backed leather chair, on an intercept course to head him off before he could get out of the room. Ana had killed his former girlfriends. He scrubbed his hand across his face and raking through his hair as he tried to digest this information. His mind whirled, a maelstrom of emotions and thoughts as he desperately struggled to regain hold of his conscious mind. A slight twitch at the edge of his mouth reflected the tightness of his jaw. Taking several deep breaths, he forced his bewildered mind back onto the problem at hand. He was a politician whose words never failed him. Now, he was speechless. When he needed all of his reasoning and oratory skills the most, he found that he was struck speechless. “Why?” He repeated quietly. “Because I love you, Andrew. I have taken care of you for more than ten years. I have stayed by your side and taken care of you.” Her voice pleaded with him to understand her pain, though her eyes reflected the madness that had taken over her mind. “I care about you, Ana,” he said calmly as he took a step backward towards the door. “But I love Jesse. We are getting married.” The tenuous hold she had on her emotions snapped as rage surged through her, contorting her

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face into a horribly twisted parody of the beauty that was once there. A silver automatic pistol appeared in her hand, pulled from the pocket of her suit. He froze in his tracks; the weapon spoke volumes louder than any words could have. He held his hands up in a universal symbol of surrender. For some odd reason, it seemed the right thing to do. He watched as calm settled over her features, replacing the rage that had been there so recently. A serene smile lit up her face, though the madness never left her eyes. “You are mine, Andrew and I have decided that I am not going to share. I have shared you enough with the women that you have been with and shared you with the public that adored you. You and I will be together, together forever.” The impact of her words hit him like a ton of bricks. He felt his palms dampen and his gut clench as she raised the weapon, aiming for his heart. Despite the fear of impending death, his thoughts were not for himself, but for Jesse. What if she decided to come through that door at the moment? What if Ana planned to murder her in her bed? What if she was already dead? Of course, that was a silly thought. His house was not quite large enough that the other inhabitants would not hear the sound of a gunshot. Ana’s finger hovered over the trigger as beads of sweat formed on his forehead and soaked the back of his white dress shirt. She was calm, cool, and collected. Nothing in her demeanor or on her face showed anything other than unruffled tranquility. Make my day. The spurious quote flew into his mind. Oddly, he was reminded of Clint Eastwood’s infamous movie standoff or maybe it was just because he was facing the barrel of an automatic. Of course, Clint had a Smith & Wesson .44 Magnum on his side. His Sig Sauer was probably undressing for bed. She squeezed the trigger. He leaped. The thunder of the shot reverberated through the closed room. Fire shot through his side as the bullet tore through linen dress shirt, scoring the tender flesh. He collided heavily with the ground; his elbow twisted painfully his body hit the rich hardwood. He groaned as he made a mental note to replace the hardwood with a thick, well-padded carpet. He yelped as a bullet ripped into the wood by his head. He moved to the side, trying to get some

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cover between himself and the crazy woman with the gun. The roll across the floor was a mistake, he realized immediately as his injured shoulder crushed under the weight of his own body. He could only be thankful that the anger that was blazing in her eyes affected her aim. A scream ripped out of his throat as a bullet ripped through his abdomen, blazing a trail of fire through his flesh even as he sought cover behind a well-padded leather chair. Flattening himself against the chair, he gasped for breath as he pressed his hand against the bleeding wound as a slug ripped into the chair. His breath began to come in faltering gasps. From some far away place, he heard the door crash open, a shout cut through the fog that was starting to settle in his mind. A shot rang through the room, followed closely by a second shot and the sound of something hitting the ground. “Andrew!” Dimly he heard someone calling out his name. In a rush of green satin, Jesse dropped to the ground next to him. She took his cold hand and enveloped it in her warmth. He struggled to smile at her even as he felt the blackness take him.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“How’re you holding up?” Jesse struggled to smile as she reached out for the steaming cup of coffee placed under her nose. The smell of her favorite drink from Starbucks was ambrosia for her hazy mind. Holding it, she inhaled the wonderful aroma as she looked up at Daniel and Adam, concern etched on their faces. “I’m okay.” She answered Adam’s question. Raking her hand across her hair, she shook her head as the tears began to fall. She looked down at herself, trying to keep her elder siblings from seeing her tears. “No, I’m not. He’s going to die.” Adam gathered her into his arms, allowing her to cry on his shoulder. He spoke softly and soothingly in her ear. “It’s going to be all right. He is going to be fine.” Composing herself, she pulled back, swiping the back of her hand across her eyes, brushing away the tears with the handkerchief that Daniel offered. “How did you...” She looked up in confusion, realizing that she had not even thought to call either of them. “We find out?” Adam finished for her. “I’m a cop, Jess, just like you. One of the officers gave me a call. And I called Daniel.” “Of course. How silly of me.” “Hey, things will be all right.” Adam poked her shoulder. “Look at you. You look beautiful and that necklace must have cost a year’s salary.” She sniffed as she self-consciously brushed her hands across the green satin, smoothing out the wrinkles in the exquisite dress. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about the blood staining the skirt. She reached out and touched the emeralds around her neck. Adam grinned as he nudged the dangling earring, sending sparkles in all directions. Daniel sat down on her other side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. For first time since the shooting, she felt calm, as though things were going to

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okay. She had been in the kitchen, pouring a glass of milk, when she heard it. Even in a house that size, the shot was like an explosion that reverberated through the house. The glass slipped through her hand unnoticed as she sped through the house, as a second shot rang out. Pausing outside the study, she drew her back-up weapon, an American Arms .357 derringer, from the holster she had strapped to her calf. Andrew had found it when they made love on the way home. He had kissed her leg as he undid the Velcro strapping it there, and kissed her leg some more when he strapped it back on her calf after they finished making love. A jolt had run through her when another gunshot exploded within the room. She took several breaths in quick succession before she burst through the thick wooden door, her weapon at ready. The sight that greeted her froze her in her tracks. Ana Lopez had spun around, a stainless steel Colt held expertly in her hands. “Drop it.” She had called out, more out of habit than an actual desire or expectation that Ana would drop the weapon. She had seen the insanity that shone in her eyes. Her eyes had darted to the ground, where a trail of blood had led behind a heavy leather chair. Ana fired a shot, which hammered into the door molding not far from her head. Instinctively, Jesse pulled the trigger. Her training lent accuracy to her shot. A look of sheer surprise had flickered across Ana’s face as she looked down at the red stain spreading across her chest just before she had collapsed to the ground. Jesse circled around Ana for a moment, her weapon pointed at the ready. Leaning down, she checked for a pulse, not lowering her weapon until she had assured herself that there was none. Then she had followed the trail of blood. Only by sheer force of will did she not scream at the sight that greeted her. Andrew was slumped in a pool of blood his hand clutched his stomach, ineffectually trying to stop the blood that spurted from a wound in his abdomen. The police had come with the ambulance. They had taken her statement while the paramedics attempted to staunch the blood flow and stabilize him for transport.

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That was more than five hours ago. Now, she sat with her elder siblings flanking her while she waited for one of the doctors to come through the operating room doors to tell her that Andrew was going to live. Or, that he was going to die. That fleeting thought sent a shudder through her. A sense of loss that she had never experienced before, not even when her father was murdered coursed through her. She scrubbed her hand across face, in an attempt to halt another flow of tears. She drank deeply from the cup, cursing as the hot liquid scalded her tongue. She sprang up from her seat as the large double doors leading to the operating area swung open. Pulling off a diamond patterned surgical cap, the doctor made her way to the waiting group. “Ms. Walker? I’m Dr. Bryant. Mr. Wallis came through surgery with no complications. He is listed in fair condition, but we expect that he will be downgraded to good condition by morning.” Relief washed over Jesse, the emotion causing her knees to buckle under her. If it were not for Daniel’s supporting arm around her waist, she would have collapsed. “May I see him?” “He is in recovery now, though we expect to move him into his room soon. Once he is settled, then you can see him,” she said kindly. “You may want to go home and get some sleep. The anesthesia in his system will prevent him from being too coherent for the next several hours.” “Thank you.” Jesse’s voice was heavy with emotion and exhaustion. Her mind refused to focus and her legs turned into rubber as the high from the adrenaline and caffeine began to wear off. She leaned heavily against Daniel, grateful for his strength. She slipped into the sterile ICU room the next morning, comfortably dressed in a white shirt and her standard jeans. The rest of the previous night had gone by in a blur. She vaguely remembered Adam bringing her to his home, where Sarah was waiting with a spare nightgown and the sofa made up with blankets and pillows. Barely conscious, Jesse was asleep before her head even hit the pillow. Stepping into the room, she was assailed by the beeping of machines that monitored all of the major bodily functions, the IV dripping soundlessly into Andrew’s arm, and the tube bringing oxygen into his body.

However, his eyes were open and his mind, though still slightly fuzzy from the

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anesthesia, was active. “Hey, how’re you feeling?” Jesse queried softly as she sat in a chair beside the bed. “Considering that I’ve been shot, pretty good.” He laughed shortly, his voice hoarse from the oxygen pumped into his lungs. “You saved my life. Thanks. Doesn’t quit fit with those romances you horde, does it?” She laughed, wondering how he had found out, and then realized that the maids probably found them when they moved her things into his room. She brushed the tears from her eyes, sniffing just a little. “No, but real life is better than fantasy.” “Ana was the one who killed those girls, did you know that?” Bringing the cup of water up to his lips, she angled the straw into his mouth for him to sip. “Yeah, Houston PD searched her house last night. She took souvenirs from her victims. That was pretty much the icing on the cake.” “How is Ana?” He asked, though in his heart, he knew what the answer was going to be. “She’s dead.” He nodded silently. Despite the heinous nature of her crimes, he could not discount the years of loyalty that Ana had given him and the friendship that they shared. Jesse took his hand in hers, caressing it gently. “I love you, Andrew Wallis.” “And I love you, Jessica Ann Walker.”

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EPILOGUE

“You may kiss the bride.” Jesse lifted her face to Andrew’s, their eyes meeting as he raised the sheer veil covering her face. After a month, the touch of his mouth to hers still sent a shock of electricity through her body. She smiled as he lifted his mouth from hers. She felt the blush creep up her face as the cheers from the guests slipped through the haze of happiness. He took her hand in his as they faced the crowd. “May I present Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Wallis,” the priest announced. Her steps were light on the white runner as they walked down the aisle. As promised, he had provided her with her mother’s dream wedding, all in under a month. Andrew had bribed Houston’s premiere wedding consultant to work with her mother to plan the nuptials. He waved away all her protestations at the extravagance of the wedding. Her mother really could have lived without the cake large enough to feed a third world country, the release of a dozen perfectly matched doves, the strawberries with a waterfall of chocolate for dipping, and the orchids flown in that morning. Instead, the past week had been a flurry of activity as the Wallis family ranch was transformed into a wedding wonderland. Her joy didn’t diminish through the lavish reception dinner of filet mignon and lobster tail. Her mother fluttered about like a butterfly, greeting people and making sure that everything was just perfect for her only daughter’s wedding. However, Jesse only had eyes for her new husband. “It’s time to cut the cake, darling,” Andrew whispered into her ear. He laughed at the groan that she barely restrained. “Come, come, dear, you know how much your mother is enjoying this.” She pasted a grin on her face as he offered her his hand and led her to the table where the tentiered concoction, frosted with white butter cream and small pink roses complete with a bubbling fountain, sat. In a spurt of humor, the bride at the top of the cake had a small silver star pinned to her

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dress. Hand in hand, they took the ivory handled knife and sliced into the cake, pulling out a small slice. She laughed as the cake wobbled on the server before tumbling onto the china plate Andrew held out. He licked the frosting off her finger with a waggle of his eyebrows, causing the guests to cheer and her to break out into another fit of laughter. “I will love you forever, Jesse.” He promised as he held out a piece of cake for her to bite. “And I love you, Andrew!” Her grin turned impish as she thought about the can of whipped cream some of the female officers had slipped into the refrigerator for the honeymoon.