"So, who was it? Who'd she go to the prom with?"
"How am I supposed to remember that?" Katie looked at him. "One year, she went with one guy and came home with another."
"Think, Katie. She's giving us a clue." Rick's gaze flickered to her breasts, then returned to her eyes. Cool, unreadable, all business. Still, she became suddenly, uncomfortably aware that her breast pressed into him arm.
Rick went on, completely undeterred from his train of thought. "Tommy won't let her stay on the phone long and he won't let her say anything directly. He's cautious. That's good. If she's calling and she says she's fine, then she is."
"Okay, okay." Gritting her teeth, she cleared her mind of everything except her sister's wacky clues. "She also said she'd once thought about moving to this place."
"Right. Where?"
"Hollywood with Ryan. Dallas with Mitchell." She unfolded her legs and slid off the bed. The feel of all that hot, hard muscle made her nerved raw. "Sante Fe with Dusty. Kansas City with Lee. See a pattern?"
"Great." Rick rolled his eyes. "Let's try to figure out the guy's name first. Who was her prom date her sophomore year?"
"Matthew Johnson" Katie paced to the opposite side of the bed, tapping one finger on the brass footboard. "No, she went with him to the prom her junior year."
Rick rose, followed a few steps behind.
"Um, Justin Wilson. No -- John Brown." She snapped her fingers. "John Brown."
"No. Not him." She sidestepped him, wishing he would put on a shirt. Or a blanket. Something. "He drove a pickup."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Rick growled.
"She said the guy she went with drove a red Camaro, not a pickup. Her head started to throb. Why couldn't Grace have just told her? "Oh, wait! Deven. Devin." She paced to the head of the bed, then to its foot, trying to picture Grace in her first prom dress. She'd worn a low-cut black dress that year. What was that guy's name?
"Deven, who?" Rick's every step stalked hers.
She turned, looked at him through slitted eyes. "There's a reason I'm not spitting it out here, Powell. Deven..." She closed her eyes, his face floating into focus. He'd been gorgeous, dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin. "Winfield! Deven Winfield!"
"Okay, Deven Winfield. Is it Deven or Winfield she's trying to tell us?"
"Winfield. She made sure to say it was a specific Dev. Go by the last name."
"Okay, let's check it out on the Internet. See where we can find Winfield, America."
Instead of going into his study, Rick strode down the hall to his bedroom, and she followed. The neon green screen of a notebook computer blinked from a small rolltop desk in front of one of his wide windows. He straddled his chair, used his mouse to click up a box and dial onto the Internet.
She walked in and stopped as his scent curled around her. Her gaze went immediately to the king-sized bed in the center of the room, which was attractive and unmistakably masculine. Deep greens, stormy blues, a wicked thread of scarlet were jeweled slashed of color against the pale gray walls and carpet.
The straight-edged bedframe, mirrored dresser and highboy spoke of hand craftsmanship and painstaking, honest labor. The walls boasted more black-and-white drawings like those in his office, but these depicted biplanes and early model jets. Next to his window hung a framed oil of Rick's three horses, chasing each other through a meadow Katie recognized as being close to the creek.
She felt like an outsider and couldn't deny the fierce longing that suddenly clutched at her. To belong to this room, to him. She shook it off and walked over to stand at his elbow, leaning close to see the screen.
Once online, Rick found a search engine, then typed in the words Winfield United States. Katie paced behind his chair, her satin nightdress skimming her knees as she walked.
She stopped, peered over his shoulder again. "They can't be far. Or can they? A car can cover a lot of ground in three days, right?"
"It's hard to know what they've been doing, Katie. They could've been driving this whole time or they could've been hiding out in some hotel somewhere. Even here in the city."
"She should've called me before now," Katie murmured. Skirting his elbow, she looked over his shoulder again. A Web page was loading. She sighed, made another trip around his chair.
She turned, caught his gaze skimming her legs. A cool politeness slid into his eyes. Hating the head that inched across her skin, she arched a brow. "Anything yet?"
He glanced casually at the screen. "No. It's coming."
She paced to his bed, wrapped a hand around the short, squared newel post of the dark rustic footboard. His plaid comforter, in tones of blue, teal and burgundy, was cornered neatly on the plump mattress. The closet door was closed, hiding rows of clothing she suspected hung as ruler straight as the navy and green towels she saw through the half-open bathroom door.
Turning, she thought she caught him looking at her again.
She ignored the sudden clench of her heart. "Well?"
"It's coming. Okay, Winfield. Florida."
"That's too far."
"So is... Georgia."
"She said she'd once thought about moving to this place. Look for California, New Mexico, Texas, Kansas. Of course, those are just the ones she told me about. There could be others she didn't tell me she was seeing Tommy again."
"It'll be something you know," Rick soothed.
Katie was doing her darnedest to keep her gaze off his broad, copper shoulders, the way his sleek muscles flexed and shifted as he bent over the keyboard. He'd acted all day as if she hadn't crawled up his chest at the creek. As if he hadn't had his hands and mouth all over her.
"Aha, Winfield, Kansas."
"Yes!" She rushed over, leaning close to read the screen. Rick's scent, fresh male underlined with soap from a recent shower, reached out and twisted something inside her. Something hot and primal, something lonely. "That's got to be it."
"Kansas." He typed something; another screen appeared. "Looks like it's about a three-and-a-half or four hour drive from here. It's in the south-eastern corner of the state."
"I'll call my bank in the morning and have the money wired."
"Don't wire it."
She straightened. "What? But I told her I would."
He tilted his head to stare thoughtfully at her. "Let's take the money. Drive up there. You want to find her, don't you?"
Katie smiled slowly. "You're brilliant."
He shrugged. "Just doing my job."
She didn't miss the way he emphasized the word job. So, she hadn't imagined the flare of pain in his eyes when she'd thrown out that threat earlier. She'd regretted the words the second they left her mouth. Regardless of what had happened between them, Katie didn't trust anyone else to find her sister. She just had to remember that's all she could trust him to do.
"I brought fresh clothes from my house earlier," she said. "I can be ready first thing in the morning."
"Me, too."
She started out of the room, encouraged that she might see her sister in less than twelve hours.
"Good job on deciphering that puzzle from your sister. She's nuts."
She glanced back. "Thanks."
"Shouldn't take us too long after finding them to wrap this up. We'll get them somewhere safe until Tommy can get what he needs, get him some backup from the FBI."
She nodded. By this time tomorrow, she'd be with Grace. And her time with Rick would be nearly over. The realization that they could be this close to parting slid a hot needle of regret through her.
Didn't he feel any of that same regret? She could read nothing in the guarded, black depths of his eyes. Nothing about what had happened between them at the creek. He appeared unaffected, as if it hadn't happened, but it had. She wouldn't forget it; she didn't want him to, either.
Impulsively, she said, "I meant what I said at the creek today."
He looked startled; after a moment, he said, "So did I." She saw in his eyes that he really had. He wasn't goin
g to give them another chance. He'd moved on; she had to do the same.
Trying to breathe past the aching tightness in her chest, Katie left the room.
CHAPTER 9
Even as Rick drove Katie to her bank the next morning, the blood still pounded hot in his veins. The image of her in that drop-dead-red nightgown made his pulse hitch even now.
She sat in the soft leather seat next to his, close enough that he could feel her warmth. All morning, she'd been polite and reserved. But he noted the way she drummed her fingers nervously on her knee, fidgeted in her seat.
He was tense, too, but maybe not for the same reason. It wasn't that her fluttery slip of a nightgown had bared too much, but that he knew exactly what she looked like under that gown. He clenched and unclenched a fist, downshifted to turn into the parking lot. The memory of those long, sleek legs disappearing beneath berry satin, high breasts peaking with just a look from him chipped steadily away at his common sense. Had they only been together three days? It felt like a lot longer.
I mean what I said at the creek.
He'd told her he had, too. Told her he wasn't going to give them, her, another chance. Right now, he didn't feel one bit sure.
Hope, something he thought he had squashed years ago, had flared at the earnest promise in her smoky blue eyes. She made him almost believe that she could really commit completely to him.
Morning sunlight glittered off the large tinted windows of the bank. He swung the 'Vette into an empty space near the front door.
Katie opened the car door, glanced at him. "Any advice?"
"Small bills. You don't want anything that might call attention to Grace and Tommy."
"Right." She smiled, the motion easing some of the fatigue in her features. "Be back in a minute."
Rick nodded, his gaze riveted on her as she moved onto the concrete walk, then disappeared inside. Those khaki slacks curved over her bottom just the way his hands had yesterday. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles showed white.
He shook his head and told himself to do something productive. Surreptitiously, he checked the side and rear view mirrors. No sign of the silver sedan he'd shaken a couple of days ago. None of the other cars in the parking lot had followed him here. The cars passing on the busy street behind him didn't repeat. So far, so good.
Rolling his shoulders, he focused on leveling out his pulse, tried to erase the pictures of Katie that still teased his mind. Considering the fact that he felt like his brain had shut down due to pure lust, he thought he'd done a damn fine job of keeping his thoughts, and his hands, to himself last night.
She walked out of the bank and toward the car, her pink cotton sweater molding her breasts and tucking snugly into the thin waistband of her slacks.
As she moved toward him with athletic fluidity, something hot balled in his chest. Something fierce and possessive that he refused to examine. He glanced away, rubbing a hand over his face.
She slid into the car, reaching to put her purse on the floorboard behind him. "I withdrew sixteen hundred dollars. Do you think that's enough?"
"Yeah." Her too-careful tone indicated that she was trying to include him even while maintaining a distance. Which was exactly what he was doing.
He reversed out of the parking space as she fastened her seat belt.
Keeping an eye out for a tail, he headed east on 122nd Street toward the Turner Turnpike. They'd cruise through Tulsa, stay on I-44 East until they neared Winfield.
Beside him, she shifted in the seat, first angling away, then toward him. She reached over and changed the radio station. A rollicking country tune by Vince Gill filled the car. She drummed her fingertips on her thigh.
Rick kept his gaze trained on the road, but his thoughts seethed. Last night, he'd wanted to tumble her onto his bed, make love to her with no thought about how that would skew things. And it definitely would. Getting naked with Katie would only cloud the issues between them, and he was through letting her confuse him.
Just thinking about those hot, desperate kisses they'd shared at the creek yesterday edged his hormones up an unnecessary notch. Feeling crowded, restless, he settled into his seat, leaning one shoulder into the door.
She reached up and changed the radio station again. As Rick identified the bluesy soul of Eric Clapton, Katie's soft wildflower scent drifted to him, had him tightening his grip on the steering wheel. This case was nearly over. He hadn't done anything stupid yet. He could last until they met up with Grace.
Somehow he would last. Rick wanted Katie more fiercely than he'd ever wanted anything, including to fly jets. He'd never connected with any woman the way he still did with Katie. And he shouldn't want to connect with her. He knew what she could do to his world, his heart.
But what he hadn't known was how well they would really work together. Last night, for the first time, they'd been a full-fledged team. She'd let him know immediately that Grace was on the phone. She'd asked his advice, followed his suggestions.
Even without his prompting, she'd tried to get the right information out of her sister. The old Katie would've bristled if Rick had told her what questions to ask, listened in on their phone conversation. This Katie, the one who was even now making his palms damp, had let him in. Just like she'd said she intended to at the creek.
He liked it. Knew he could easily come to crave that give-and-take like an alcoholic craved his first drink of the day. She'd actually depended on him. He recognized that it was satisfaction filling him, rather than the frustration he usually felt with dealing with Katie and one of her family situations.
Quickly, he tamped down the emotion. He couldn't let himself trust that. Right now, he was all she had. That was why she leaned on him.
Grace's prolonged silence had eroded the strength Katie wore like armor. But once she had her sister safely rescued from this latest fiasco, things would probably go back to the way they'd always been. Katie taking responsibility for everyone and everything, giving all of herself to her family with nothing left for anyone else.
She punched the radio buttons again, then again. By now, he'd heard everything from Gershwin to Boy George.
He slid a sideways look at her. "You nervous?"
"Anxious, I guess." She answered carefully, raked a hand through her short, mink-dark hair.
"It'll be over soon."
"Yes. I can't wait." The smile she aimed at him was a combination of relief and uncertainty. Then her eyes widened in horror. "Oh, I didn't mean... not because of you."
"I know." He smiled.
She flashed a shy smile that jolted him to the soles of his feet.
His gut hollowed with want. No matter how he ached to pull her under him, make her go all liquid and limp the way he knew he could, he couldn't afford to let down his guard, couldn't trust her not to hurt him again. Rick rubbed his neck and eased out a long breath between his teeth.
He needed a clear head, and to get that he needed some space from Katie. After they met up with Grace, he'd no doubt have all the space the wanted, and then some.
He looked at her, the fan of her velvet lashes dark against pale cheeks, the straight, classically boned nose, the stubborn curve of her jaw. Thought about the promise he'd seen in her eyes last night, how they'd worked together like two people who trusted each other implicitly. It wasn't lost on him that they were both making an effort to stay on opposite sides of the invisible line he'd drawn last night.
A dull ache settled at the base of his skull. The only thing he could let himself think about was getting to Grace. He couldn't deal with the confusing tangle Katie was making of his thoughts, his mental balance.
Rick had really moved on. Katie had spent last night and all this morning forcing herself to remember the unyielding decision in his eyes, his unwillingness to give them another chance. He didn't think she could give him all of herself. And he had every reason to doubt. She doubted, too.
She had to accept his decision, accept that they were really over, but the four-
hour drive to Winfield, Kansas, hadn't brought her any closer to letting go. At the thought, pain squeezed her chest. She slid a look at him, and he glanced over before returning his attention to the road.
In his eyes, she saw the same wariness she'd seen the day she'd walked into his office asking for help. With a pang of bittersweet pleasure, she let her gaze wander over him, admiring the profile of carved cheekbones and jaw, the bronze column of his throat, the smooth V exposed by the opened top of his button-down denim shirt.
She remembered his kisses yesterday, hungry and desperate for her. She was trying to stay out of his way, follow his way. They'd never be lovers again, but there were partners.
She told herself that was good. Tearing her gaze from him, she studied the scenery. They passed acres of farmland, trees heavy with freshly greening leaves, and finally a sign welcomed them to Winfield, population just under forty thousand.
Being alone with him was what made her wish for things to be different, made her regret walking away from him. Once they found Grace, Katie wouldn't be alone with Rick anymore. That would help her find the common sense that seemed to have deserted her yesterday at the creek, help squash the urge to beg him to reconsider. Or, if she'd had any hope that it would do any good, to seduce him. But she'd seen that no-trespass look in his eyes before. She didn't have the guts to try it.
Deep down, she knew it was because, no matter how much she wanted him, she couldn't promise that things would be different. Couldn't promise that she could really give up all the responsibility she'd grown used to carrying for everyone else.
She laced her fingers together, trying to calm her jangled nerves. Just a few more hours and they'd find Grace. Then Katie would get some much-needed space from Rick. She could do this.
They topped a hill, and he slowed according to the speed limit signs. A charming town spread out before then at the base of the hill, green and lush and built around a square marked by four white stone pillars as well as rectangular planters bursting with red geraniums.
Following directions Katie had gotten by calling the check-cashing business where Grace had instructed her to send the money, he turned right off the exit ramp.
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