Wild for Him

Chapter Ten

STANDING in front of Ben's closed bedroom door at quarter after nine in the evening, Christine figured she had two choices. One, to heed all the subtle signals Ben had been giving off all day long to keep things nice and platonic between them, or two, to walk through the door separating her from the man she wanted in more ways than one and proceed to seduce him, and indulge in what surely would be the greatest pleasure she'd ever experienced.

Knowing her time with Ben was limited, her choice didn't require a whole lot of thought or debate. Embracing the latter option, along with her inner vixen, she opened the door and stepped inside the guest bedroom where Ben was reclining on his bed wearing just a pair of boxer briefs and reading a hardback spy novel.

As soon as she entered the room, he immediately sat up and placed his book on the nightstand, his entire body going taut in alert mode. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," she quickly assured him, and watched as he relaxed somewhat-except for the tentative look in his eyes as he took in what she was wearing. At the moment, all he could see was a bright red silk robe and her absolute favorite Christian Louboutin shoes-a pair of leopard print platform pumps that were lined in red and had a four-inch spiked heel.

"Nice outfit," he said, a hint of wry amusement underscoring his husky voice. "Are you going somewhere?"

She laughed at his attempt to keep things light and humorous when it was so obvious why she was there in his room. Slowly, she strolled toward where he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, and came to a stop in front of him within touching distance.

"The only place I'm going is wherever you take me tonight," she said, and tugged on the sash around her waist. She let the material unravel her like a gift, then let the thin strip of fabric drop to the floor. A sultry shrug of her shoulders, and the coverup slithered down her arms and fell to her feet in a pool of red silk. What she wore beneath-a red, sheer lace bra and matching panties-made Ben groan deep in his throat.

Retrieving the foil packets she'd tucked into her bra for safekeeping, she tossed the trio of condoms onto the bed beside Ben. "I'm yours to do with as you please," she said, daring him to take what she was offering.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and his hands curled into tight fists on his thighs. "Christine…"

Hearing the beginnings of a rejection starting to form, she pressed her fingers against his lips to stop the words she refused to let him speak. "I want this, and you, so badly, Ben," she whispered achingly. "Please don't tell me no. Not tonight."

Gently, he pulled her hand away from his mouth, his gaze dark with lust and something much more poignant that made her heart skip a beat. "I should tell you no and make you leave, but I can't." His hands slid to her hips, and he pulled her closer, between his spread legs. "I want you too much."

"I'm right where I want to be, Ben." There was so much truth to that statement, and the intensity of emotion she felt in that moment almost frightened her.

He said nothing more. Didn't bother to fight what they both so obviously wanted. In a quick, lithe move, he twisted toward the bed behind him and pulled her with him, lifting her slightly and tumbling her back so that she was sprawled in the middle of the mattress, his for the taking. He moved up next to her, his gaze devouring the soft swells of her breasts nearly spilling from the demi-cups of her bra, the dip and curve of her waist, and the flimsy scrap of lace covering her sex.

"You are so incredibly beautiful and sexy," he murmured as he traced an enticing trail between her breasts, then down her flat belly to the waistband of her panties. "I want to touch you, and kiss you, and taste you… everywhere." That same finger followed the patch of lace between her legs and pressed against the fabric that was already damp with desire. "Especially right here."

His gaze was hot with erotic intent and promises, and a shiver of anticipation coursed through her. "You can do anything you want to me, except one thing."

He stroked the inside of her thigh with his fingers, easing them apart so he could move his knee in between and move closer to her. "And that would be?"

She ran the tip of her tongue across her bottom lip. "No missionary position." It was all she knew, and this time with Ben was all about pleasure, excitement, and new, thrilling adventures.

"You don't have to worry about that," he said with a slow, wicked smile. "There are about a dozen other ways to get deep inside of you, and I want to try every single one of them."

His provocative words made her hot and eager, and anxious to experience it all. "Sounds like we're on the same page, then."

"Perfect." he said, then settled his mouth over hers.

With an unraveling sigh, she parted her lips for the caress of his tongue, and lost herself in a cloud of luxurious bliss. He seduced her with slow, deep, drugging kisses, the kind that gradually increased in heat and tempo, until he was claiming her mouth with a fierce, hungry demand that made her melt. One of his hands glided down her throat, across her shoulder, and pulled her bra strap down her arm, until she felt cool air brush across her bared breast.

She shivered, then moaned when he cupped the mound of flesh and caressed the taut peak with his thumb. He pulled the lace cup away from her other breast and plucked at her other nipple until it, too, was hard and aching. Feeling impatient for more, a soft, needy sound escaped her, but he took his own sweet time in arousing her and building the anticipation of what was to come, which only served to heighten her desire-and she was pretty sure he knew it, as well.

After a while his lips trailed along her jaw, and he nuzzled her neck before spreading more lazy, spine-tingling kisses down to her breast. He took her nipple into his warm, wet mouth, and sucked gently, over and over, drawing a gasp from her. Threading her fingers through his hair, she gripped his head and guided him to her other waiting breast. At his own leisure, he laved the plump flesh with his tongue-stroking, licking, swirling around and over the hard, sensitive crest, until she was panting and arching restlessly against the heat of his mouth.

Chuckling in pure amusement, he finally parted his lips and drew her deep into all that decadent, silky, wet heat. He sucked once again, and she felt that tantalizing pull all the way down to her weeping sex. Groaning, she clenched her thighs tight around the leg he'd wedged in between hers, and she could feel the steel length of his erection pressing against her hip. He was huge and hard and that's exactly what she wanted. Him. Deep inside of her. Filling her completely and giving her the orgasm building inside of her.

She reached down and cupped his shaft in her hand, stroking him through his boxer briefs. This time, it was him that groaned, deep and low. Releasing her breast, he grabbed her wrist and pinned her arm on the mattress beside her, then lifted his head to look down at her face.

"You keep doing that, and I'm not going to last very long," he drawled in a husky, lust-filled voice.

At the moment, she didn't care. "I want you inside of me."

"Don't be so impatient," he chided playfully as a sinfully sexy smile curved his lips. "I promise we're getting there, but I'm not done with you yet."

A moan of frustration slipped out of her. She was already burning up, her body already primed for his. "You're driving me crazy on purpose, aren't you?"

"It's called foreplay, sweetheart." He brought his hand back to her breast and lightly pinched the stiff peak, then soothed the sting with a featherlike brush of his thumb over the velvety crest. "I'm just getting you nice and ready for the good stuff."

"I thought this was the good stuff," she said, unsure of just how much more she could take of his sensual torment-or whatever else he had planned.

His fingers swept downward, tickling and teasing her belly with delicate, barely-there caresses that only served to electrify every nerve ending she possessed. "When it comes to sex, it's all good stuff, but the best is yet to come."

That made her laugh, which was something she'd never done in the bedroom with another guy. With Ben, it just felt so natural and right. "Pun intended?"

"Oh, most definitely." Quick and agile, he moved over her, straddling her thighs with his legs so that she couldn't move. He lowered his upper body to hers until they were face to face and his long fingers were tangled in her hair.

She felt deliciously trapped beneath him, unable to do anything but let him have his way with her. It was a little bit dangerous, and a whole lot arousing. The dark, hungry look in his eyes excited her even more, and she relished the heat and strength of his body pressing into hers, and the rasp of his lightly hair-covered chest against her smooth breasts.

With a gentle tug on her hair, he pulled her head back and skimmed his lips along the arch of her throat. "You're about to get your first lesson in oral sex," he murmured as he scattered tender love bites along her neck to her ear, rendering her breathless with not only his brazen words, but the feel of his mouth on her skin. "I'm going to go down on you and lick and suck your clit, and push my tongue deep inside of you until you come for me. Are you ready for that?"

She was already trembling inside, and because she trusted Ben so explicitly, she surrendered to him without hesitation. "Yes."

His lips captured hers again, and what began as a soulful and deep connection, eventually gave way to hot and primitive mating of their lips and tongues. His hands slid beneath her back, deftly unfastened her bra, and tossed the piece of lingerie aside. A moment later, his mouth paid homage to both of her breasts, bringing them alive with sensation once again before he continued his downward trek to her quivering belly. From there, he spread an agonizingly slow, damp trail of kisses around her navel, then hooked his fingers into the elastic band of her panties at her hips and started tugging the flimsy scrap of material down her thighs.

In order to remove them completely, he sat up so he could slide the panties down her legs and carefully maneuver them around her heeled pumps so they didn't get tangled. He dropped the bit of lace to the floor, then smoothed his hands up along the backs of her calves, gradually easing her legs wider and wider apart to make room for him in between.

Being completely naked in front of Ben for the first time, with the nightstand lamp leaving nothing to the imagination-and especially with him still wearing his boxer briefs!-she felt a small bout of modesty surge through her. Grasping for any kind of distraction, she caught sight of her red and leopard print heels and used them to divert his attention away from the fact that she was literally sprawled on the bed in front of him like an offering.

Not that he seemed to mind.

"Aren't you going to take off my shoes?" she asked on a ragged breath.

"Nope." He pressed a kiss on the inside of her bent knee, his breath fanning hot and moist against her skin. "They're sexy as hell and they're staying on."

Oh, God. Her heartbeat quickened as he licked and nibbled his way up the inside of her thigh, leaving a damp imprint behind with each lingering kiss, a reminder that he'd tasted that part of her body and was moving on to more carnal pleasures. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he draped her legs over his shoulders, brought his hands around so that he could splay them on her stomach to hold her down, and settled in for a more thorough exploration.

She wasn't quite sure what to expect, but when his velvety tongue slid along the soft folds of flesh, then flicked across her clitoris, she gasped sharply at the shock of sensation that shot through her. Liquid heat pooled at her center as he slowly, leisurely stroked her cleft, as he licked and laved and used his tongue in illicit, wicked ways that made her entire body flush in wanton need.

He controlled her every response with his clever mouth, meting out her pleasure a tiny bit at a time until she was whimpering and begging him for more. Still, he continued to tease and seduce every one of her senses, taking his cues from her soft moans and her quickened breathing. He knew exactly how to make her tremble and ache, how to bring her to the edge of release and then just stop short. And when he added a mind-blowing suctioning swirl to his arsenal of erotic play, along with a deep, endless stroke of his tongue inside of her, she cried out, her back arching off the bed and her fingers clutching the covers in a futile attempt to keep her grounded.

It was no use. The things he was doing to her with his mouth guaranteed that her climax was imminent. Ecstacy, pure and white hot, gathered inside her until there was nothing left for her to do but let go and enjoy the wild ride. Her body shuddered hard, then dissolved into a deluge of exquisite spasms that seemed to go on forever.

She'd never felt anything quite so incredible, so amazingly powerful than the orgasm Ben had just given her. The force and intensity of it all stole her breath, consuming her in a way she'd never experienced before. When the last of those heavenly contractions subsided, he pressed his damp mouth to her belly, nuzzling against her, his breathing just as ragged as her own.

After a while, he lifted his head and looked up at her, his gaze gleaming with unadulterated male satisfaction. "Are you okay?"

She laughed and furrowed her fingers through his thick, tousled hair. "Are you kidding me? I'm better than okay. That was like an out-of-body experience."

He chuckled, obviously pleased that he'd been the one to provide such immense pleasure. "Good. That was just an appetizer. Are you ready for the main course?"

She gasped as he dipped his tongue into her navel, reminding her of how he'd used that decadent tongue on her elsewhere. "If the main course is anything like what you just did to me, I'm going to be one very hungry woman," she said shamelessly.

"I can handle it." Grinning with just enough arrogance to make him look sexy, he moved to the edge of the bed and stood up, then stripped off his boxer briefs. His erection jutted out from between his thighs, hard and thick and more than enough to fill her full, and then some.

A renewed surge of lust spiraled through her. This was the first time she'd seen him completely naked, and just the sight of his fine masculine form was enough to arouse her all over again. He was made up of just the right amount of muscle, lean and powerful and so mouth-wateringly gorgeous she wanted to spend the next hour just touching him, stroking him, and exploring everything that made him so virile and potently male.

He didn't give her the chance. Reaching for one of the foil packets she'd brought with her, he tore it open with his teeth and rolled the condom down the length of his shaft. Then he gently eased her onto her stomach, grabbed her hips, and pulled her downward, toward the edge of the bed where he was standing. Her heels hit the floor, and when she started to straighten, he splayed a hand against her back to keep her upper body pressed flat to the mattress.

"Stay just like you are," he murmured, then caressed both of his hands up the slope of her back, with his thumbs gliding over each notch in her vertebrae, all the way up to her neck, then back down again.

His impromptu massage felt so good, and she stretched sinuously, telling him with soft sighs and deep groans just how much she appreciated his TLC.

His heated palms skimmed lower, over her smooth buttocks, while those wicked thumbs of his traced along the cleft separating each cheek. "You have the sweetest ass," he said huskily, then aligned his hips against hers from behind.

With her high-heeled pumps on, she was the perfect height for this position. His erection was nestled between her thighs, the tip of his shaft gliding through the slick moisture coating her female flesh. Grasping her waist, he moved his hips, mimicking the act of sex, which caused the head of his cock to rub oh-so-enticingly against still-sensitive tissues. With each caress, nerve endings came to life all over again, tingling, tightening, making her toss her head back and moan with the agonizing need for him to be inside of her.

She must have gotten her point across, because with the next pump of his hips he sank into her, much too slow for her liking when she wanted to be taken completely. He pulled out slightly, then surged forward again, teasing her with the promise of another orgasm that he kept just out of her reach.

She was used to quick, lackluster sex that ended after a few hasty strokes, yet despite the tension she could feel radiating off of Ben, he took his time with her, building her hunger all over again. As for him, somehow, someway, he maintained a controlled pace-one that made her desperate for a more frantic mating.

She looked over her shoulder at Ben, and swallowed hard at the sight of them together in such a primitive, uninhibited way that she'd only fantasized about. The dark, hot look in his eyes, and the barely leashed flex of his muscles in his arms and belly as he moved against her, made her shiver.

"Ben, please" she begged softly, when she'd never, ever, pleaded for anything sexual in her previous relationships. "I need you… harder, deeper, inside me."

With a ragged groan, he leaned over her from behind, his chest and abdomen pressing against the slope of her back. Bracing himself with one forearm on the bed beside her and tangling the fingers of his other hand in her hair at the nape of her neck, he gently pulled her head back so that his lips grazed her cheek. She felt completely surrounded by him, a part of him in so many ways-her body, her heart, her soul all his for the taking.

He withdrew and thrust back in to the hilt, finally filling her the way she longed to be filled-beyond what she believed was possible for her to take. And he didn't stop there. He increased the tempo of his strokes, each one a little faster, harder, deeper, than the one before.

"Oh, God," he rasped against her ear between quick pants for breath. "You're so wet. So hot… so fucking tight."

She closed her eyes and shuddered. His words were just as urgent as the unbearable pressure building between her legs and setting her aflame once again, as reckless as the demanding, aggressive way he plunged into her again, and again, and again. He overwhelmed her with desire and need, showed her what it was like to experience passion in its rawest form, and ultimately ravished her senses with the kind of emotion that was so dangerous to her heart.

A heart that was falling in love with Ben Cabrera.

Still, she accepted it all, savoring each moment, each feeling that was directly connected to this man.

He continued plunging into her with devastating effect, and incredibly, she could feel another climax rippling through her. A soft, mewling sound escaped her lips as her inner muscles contracted, squeezing hard around his shaft.

Her spontaneous response was all it took to trigger his own orgasm, and he came with a low, hoarse growl that reverberated through her entire body.

Chapter Eleven

THREE days later on the following Wednesday, Ben was sitting in the reception area of The Big Event, attempting to keep his focus on the same spy novel he'd been reading when Christine had ambushed him with her plan to seduce him on Sunday night. He kept reading the same paragraph over and over, because his mind just couldn't concentrate on the story line.

From one of the back rooms, he heard Christine and Madison talking, their animated conversation punctuated with an occasional burst of laughter. So far, since the night at the charity event, everything had been quiet in terms of anything happening to Christine, for which Ben was immensely grateful. Then again, he wasn't making it easy on anyone he didn't know to get close to her without a thorough interrogation. He was glued to her side when they were out in public, his instincts razor sharp at all times as he shuffled her from the car to her office, or wherever else she needed to go.

For now, she was keeping her outside errands to a minimum and only attending to things that were urgent. Weeding out the unimportant stuff would help to keep her as secluded as possible for the next week, until the election was finally over.

They spent their days at The Big Event, and went straight home at night and ate dinner at her place. That gave them a whole lot of alone time together, and Christine was quick to make good use of their long evenings-with sex, in lots of adventurous, daring, uninhibited positions. As if her inner seductress had been unleashed during their first time together, she'd become this insatiable, frisky, and zealous lover, eager to make up for lost time and the mediocre experiences that had left her physically unsatisfied in the past.

And even knowing they'd be parting ways in less than a week, he was so damned helpless to resist her sexy, tempting allure. Or anything else about her, for that matter.

The front door to The Big Event swung open, and Ben glanced up to see Kevin-a good friend and coworker at ESS-entering the place. Wearing one of his carefree grins, the other man strolled toward where Ben was sitting on the couch in the reception area with his feet propped up.

"Working hard as always, I see," Kevin wisecracked. "How is it that you always seem to get the cushy jobs?"

"It's all about charm and good looks, both of which you lack," Ben ribbed right back, glad to see a familiar, friendly face to break up the monotony of his day.

Kevin smirked as he dropped into the comfortable chair next to the couch. "I'm sure the hot babe I was with this weekend would disagree."

"It only takes a woman a few drinks to turn what looks like a frog into a prince." Grinning, Ben closed his book and regarded his friend curiously. "Other than busting my chops, what brings you by my neck of the woods?"

Kevin tossed the file folder he'd been holding on to the table in front of Ben. "I had the day off and I thought you might want to take a look at your next assignment, and get familiar with the logistics of the case before starting the job next week."

"Thanks. I appreciate that." Reaching for the folder. Ben flipped it open and quickly scanned the cover sheet, which contained an overview of the assignment. "Surveillance on an insurance fraud case. Those are always a load of fun," he said dryly.

"I'm sure it will be much more exciting than my security detail at the Art Institute watching over the Van Gogh exhibit for a week."

"You might be right about that," Ben said, and chuckled. Closing the folder, he set it aside and reclined back on the couch. "So, what's been going on at the office while I've been out?"

Kevin spent the next forty minutes bringing Ben up to speed on the latest happenings at ESS, including the new cases that had come in during his absence, and ending with an update on Joel Wilde's upcoming nuptials to Lora Marshall, which were set for that weekend. During that time, Madison left the office to run some errands, leaving Christine alone in one of the back rooms.

"It sure is a drag that you won't be able to join us boys for Joel's bachelor party this Thursday night at Leather and Lace," Kevin said, sounding bummed on Ben's behalf.

Surprisingly, Ben didn't even feel a glimmer of disappointment about missing out on an evening of watching various women strip down to skimpy G-strings, and that was enough to tell him just how far, and how deeply, he'd fallen for Christine in such a short span of time.

He tried not to think about that right now, because his feelings for Christine, no matter how strong and intense, made no difference to his future. After this next week, he'd still be spending it alone. "I'm sure you all will have enough fun to make up for me not being there."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Grinning, Kevin sat forward and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "In fact, I feel so bad about you not being able to go that I'll even buy an extra lap dance in your honor."

Ben laughed. "Now that's a real friend for you."

Kevin held his hands up, palms out. "Hey, you should know by now that I'm the kind of friend who'll take one for the team, if need be." After a moment, he inclined his head. "Are we at least going to see you at the wedding on Saturday?"

He shook his head, his regret genuine. Joel was the first of their tight group of Marine friends to get married, and as much as Ben wanted to be at the wedding, he had a job to do that took precedence. "I really hate to miss it, but I'll still be on this assignment and I can't leave Christine alone."

"Of course you can't," Kevin agreed easily. "So, bring her with you."

Ben sighed. After what happened at the charity event, he was trying to keep her as secluded as possible. That, and taking her to a wedding where he'd be surrounded by his best friends, and Joel's family, seemed way too intimate. "It's not that easy."

"Sure it is," Kevin refuted, completely oblivious to Ben's inner turmoil. "All you have to do is ask Christine. I'm betting she'll say yes."

"Ask me what?" Christine asked as she walked into the reception area. Instead of heading toward the front desk to collect the recent mail delivery that had arrived right before Kevin, she veered toward the two of them, curiosity brightening her blue eyes.

Ben groaned beneath his breath, knowing just how persistent she could be. Before he could respond to her question, Kevin stood up and extended his hand toward Christine in greeting.

"Hi there. I'm Kevin," he said, introducing himself. Being the consummate playboy. Kevin's appreciative gaze took in Christine's blond hair, her black sweater, the red pleated skirt that showed way too much leg, and yet another pair of those head-turning high heels of hers. "I work with Ben at ESS."

Christine shook his hand, seemingly unaffected by Kevin's not-so-subtle interest that had Ben clenching his teeth in annoyance. "It's nice to meet one of the guys Ben works with." she replied with a smile, then returned her attention back to Ben. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Nothing," he replied gruffly, and cast a quick keep-your-mouth-shut glare at Kevin-a warning that his friend didn't bother to heed.

"Actually, he wanted to know if you'd accompany him to a wedding this Saturday," Kevin said with a persuasive grin as he sat back down in his chair. "Our good friend, Joel Wilde, is getting married-"

"Jesus, Kevin," Ben said, cutting him off midstream. "I already told you that I'm on assignment, and I'm sure Joel will understand why I'm not there."

Christine placed her hands on her hips, looking very determined-and sexy as hell. "You shouldn't have to miss a friend's wedding because of me. I don't have any plans for this weekend, so there's no reason why the two of us can't go together."

Ben crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his gaze in a stern attempt to get her to back down. "We already talked about keeping your public appearances to a minimum."

She wasn't the least bit intimidated by his authoritative tone or demeanor. "Where is the wedding and reception being held?" she asked.

"That doesn't matter."

"It's a backyard ceremony at Joel's parents' place," Kevin said, providing the details that Ben was so reluctant to share. "Very small and low-key. Mostly family, a few good friends, and a slew of security agents to keep an eye on you and keep you safe." He winked at Christine, letting her know that she could count on him to watch over her, too.

Christine grinned broadly. "Perfect. We'll be there," she said to Kevin, then turned that sassy, confident attitude Ben's way and pointed her finger at him. "And no arguments from you about it."

And that was the end of that, Ben realized as he watched Christine walk away with a seductive sashay of her hips and her cute little pleated skirt flirting around those smooth thighs of hers. She collected the small box and the rest of the packages and letters that mail delivery had dropped off a while ago, then disappeared into one of the back offices.

Once she was gone, Kevin glanced back at Ben, and didn't bother to contain his amusement. "That one has a lot of spunk. I like her. And obviously, so do you," he added much too perceptively.

"She's a client," Ben replied, his tone brusque and to the point.

Kevin shrugged. "Doesn't change the fact that you have a thing for her."

This time, Ben scowled at his friend-as if that would make a difference to someone he'd fought side by side with in the Iraq War. He knew it would take a helluva lot more than just a glare to make Kevin back off.

"Just leave it alone, okay?" The last thing Ben wanted was to discuss his relationship with Christine with Kevin, or anyone else for that matter-mainly, because there was nothing to talk about. Another week, and this assignment, and his affair with her, would be a thing of the past. End of story.

A shrill, hair-raising shriek, straight out of some horror flick, erupted from one of the back rooms. Even before the bloodcurdling scream had a chance to ebb, Ben was on his feet and racing toward the sound with his weapon drawn, and Kevin right on his heels as backup. He turned the corner to the office, prepared to fire a shot at the person attacking Christine… except as his gaze scanned the entire room, he realized that there was no one in there but her. At least that he could see.

Oddly enough, she was kneeling on top of a nearby desk, with her arms wrapped around her stomach. Her whole body shook with fear, her face was drained of color, and she was muttering, "Oh God, oh God, oh God," over and over again.

Still unsure of the situation, he kept his gun firmly in hand. "What happened?" Ben barked out, hating the way his own stomach twisted with that awful sense of foreboding. Something was wrong, and he had no idea what had put that look of terror in her eyes.

"Ssssnakes," she said, her panic a tangible thing as she pointed a trembling finger at the floor behind the desk. "Get them out of here, please!"

Ben rounded the desk, and sure enough there were three decentsized snakes slithering across the carpet-all of them black with a yellow stripe and red markings. "What the hell?" he muttered in confusion as he holstered his weapon. Then he caught sight of the open box on the floor. "Did someone send them to you?"

She nodded jerkily. "Why would someone do that?" she asked, her voice breaking on a sob.

Obviously, to scare the crap out of her, Ben thought.

And the ploy had worked. He could only assume that this was yet another threat toward Christine to make Nathan drop out of the upcoming election.

But the more important question was, who had sent the box of snakes? Someone who knew she was deathly afraid of them, and as soon as he was able to calm her down, he'd find out that information.

Kevin stepped around him, then crouched down in front of one of the long snakes. "Honey, they're just common garter snakes," he said in an attempt to soothe her fears. "I used to play with these snakes all the time when I was a boy. They're completely harmless and won't hurt you. In fact, they look just as frightened as you are."

"I… don't… care!" Her voice rose hysterically, pushing her to the verge of hyperventilating. "Get rid of them!"

Realizing just how real Christine's phobia was, Kevin's gaze softened with compassion. "Take her out of here and I'll round up these guys and put them back into the box," he told Ben.

"Thanks." Ben moved out of the way of a snake heading toward his shoe. The last thing he needed was to have the damn thing slither its way up his pant leg. "If you could take them with you when you leave and see if you can trace the return address on the box, I'd appreciate it."

"You got it," Kevin said as he reached for one of the snake's tails, gently lifted it off the ground, then guided the reptile toward the box it had arrived in.

Ben held a hand toward Christine to help her step down from the desk. "Come on, let's go sit in the reception area while Kevin does his thing."

She glanced at the floor skeptically, then shook her head, her loose hair flying wildly around her face. "I… can't."

Her fright was so genuine, and he felt something in his chest tighten with the kind of tenderness he hadn't experienced in a very long time. Understanding that she wasn't quite ready to place her feet on the ground, not when a few of the snakes were still on the loose, he scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the room and to the reception area. He placed her on the couch, and she immediately curled her legs beneath her on the cushion.

She ran still-shaking fingers through her hair. "I can't believe that someone sent me a box of snakes. I must have really pissed someone off." she said in an attempt to make light of the situation.

Ben didn't laugh, because he knew just how serious this newest threat was. "I'm pretty sure that it's all tied into your father's race for governor."

"I don't get it," she said as she smoothed the hem of her skirt over her thighs. "If someone wants my father to drop out of the election, then why did they send me the snakes?" She shuddered as she said the word.

Initially, Ben and Nathan had agreed to keep the details of those blackmail letters to themselves, but now that the intimidation tactics were escalating, Ben knew it was time to apprise Christine of the whole truth.

He looked at her, meeting her wide-eyed gaze. "The notes that your father received are demanding that he drop out of the election or risk losing what's most precious to him… and that would be you."

"Me?" she asked incredulously. "This person is using me as leverage, and as a target?"

He nodded, glad to see her fear being replaced by a more productive emotion like anger. "It appears that they're letting your father know that they're serious about their threats. How many people know about your aversion to snakes?" he asked, hoping for some kind of insight as to who might be behind this latest hoax.

"Not many, really. It's not something I bring up in casual conversation." She thought for a moment, her expression slowly reflecting a noticeable level of disdain. "The one person who is very aware of my fear of snakes is Jason. He was with me when I was bitten by one."

He couldn't even begin to imagine the scenario that had led to such an incident. "How did that happen?"

"Jason was an outdoorsy guy, and about a month after we were engaged, he took me hiking for a day on some trails at a state park in Antioch," she said, a slight frown marring her brow as she remembered, and explained. "We came across a snake, which I almost stepped on because of the way it blended in with the foliage. I thought it was a rattlesnake at first because it was shaking its tail and hissing at us, and of course I freaked out. Jason laughed and told me it was a gopher snake and insisted that it wouldn't hurt me. He thought it was funny that I was so frightened, and he deliberately pushed me toward the snake. I screamed, and the snake struck out and bit my calf." She absently rubbed at that spot on her bare leg.

"Jesus." Ben scrubbed a hand along his jaw as a slow-burning fury coursed through him. Her ex was a certified asshole, and Ben wished he would have beat the shit out of him when he'd had the chance that first night at Envy.

"We immediately went to the state park's first-aid station, where they cleaned and bandaged the bite." She crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed at her arms through the sweater she was wearing. "And I was fine since the snake wasn't poisonous, but Jason never let me forget what a big baby I was about the whole thing."

Ben's hands curled into tight fists as anger and contempt for Jason seethed inside him. Luckily, they were interrupted by Kevin, who walked into the reception area, the box of snakes in hand with the top folded down.

"I got all three of them," he said to Ben, keeping his distance for Christine's sake. "Someone poked some small holes into the box, which is why they survived being mailed. I'll release the snakes somewhere safe and see what I can find out about the return address."

Ben gave his friend a grateful nod. "I appreciate that."

Kevin turned his attention toward Christine. His expression was grim, but his gaze conveyed kindness and sympathy for her situation. "I'm really sorry about all this, and I hope we catch the bastard who sent the damn things."

"Thank you," she said softly. "I know I overreacted back there, and I apologize for being so hysterical about the snakes."

Ben grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You had good reason," he assured her.

"I'll contact you when I know something," Kevin said, his comment directed at Ben.

"Thanks, man."

Then Kevin grinned at Christine-one of those flirtatious smiles that could persuade a woman to do just about anything he asked. "I'll see you at the wedding on Saturday." Kevin winked at her, then headed out the front door to the truck parked in front of her business.

When Ben glanced back at Christine, she wore a half-smile on her face, the kind that told him that Kevin's charm had woven its spell on yet another female. Ben highly suspected that Kevin had done so to provoke him and force him to face the feelings Ben swore he didn't have for this woman. Judging by the annoyance gripping him, his friend's scheme had worked.

"Back to business," Ben said, redirecting Christine's gaze, and attention, back to him. "Is there anybody else you might have mentioned your fear of snakes to?"

She thought for a moment, and then a startling realization flashed across her features. "Craig knows, and so does Leanne."

Ben frowned. "How would they know about your aversion to snakes?"

"Normally, they wouldn't, but a few months ago Craig asked me to plan and put together a party night at Envy for a client. The guy wanted a Snakes on a Plane theme, like the movie, and I just couldn't do it because it entailed hanging rubber snakes from the rafters, and other snake paraphernalia." She visibly shivered. "Even fake snakes are enough to send me into a panic, so I explained to Craig why I couldn't take the job, and he had Leanne do it instead. Of course, she wanted to know why I refused the event, and gloated over the fact that I had to turn it down because I was afraid of snakes."

So, that left them with three key people who knew about Christine's phobia. At the moment, Jason was the most likely suspect for sending the snakes. The man held a huge grudge against Nathan Delacroix for ruining his career, and he obviously still had a lot of unresolved anger toward Christine. Jason had every reason for wanting to sabotage Nathan's campaign, and had no qualms about using Christine's fears to let Delacroix know just how serious he was about threatening his daughter.

Now, Ben just had to find some kind of proof that Jason was behind this latest effort to scare Christine. If Kevin could link her ex to the box of snakes, they'd have what they needed to nail Jason and put an end to the blackmail attempts.

Madison came back from running her errands, and as soon as she took one look at Christine her entire demeanor changed into best friend mode as she sensed that something was wrong. She approached where the two of them were still sitting on the couch, and she dropped her purse onto the empty seat beside the sofa and glanced from Ben to Christine.

"You don't look well. What happened?" Madison asked, her brow creased with concern.

Instead of making Christine relive the entire incident, Ben gave Madison all the gory details. Her friend blanched, obviously not a fan of slithering reptiles, either.

"Good God!" Madison said with a shake of her head as she tried to process it all. "I'm glad you're okay. Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off? I'll get those party favors ordered for the bridal shower next month and take care of everything else that needs to get done today."

"That would be great." Christine smiled gratefully at her friend. "I think I've had enough excitement for today."

Ben couldn't agree more.

Chapter Twelve

CHRISTINE was quiet on the drive home, and Ben cast a few surreptitious glances toward her just to make sure she was doing okay. She looked tired, as though the events of the past week and a half were finally taking a toll on her psyche. Yet despite all she'd been through, she'd remained strong and tough on the outside, but it was how she was doing emotionally and mentally that concerned him the most.

They entered her house from the garage, which connected directly into the kitchen. He punched in the security code to disable the alarm, then locked and secured the door behind them. He switched on the overhead light, headed to the refrigerator, and took a look at what there was to drink.

He glanced back at Christine, who set her purse on the wooden table in the nook area. "Would you like a glass of wine?" If anything, he figured it would help to soothe what was left of her anxiety from the earlier incident with the snakes.

She shook her head and smiled at him. "No, I'm fine."

She really wasn't. He could see the weariness in her eyes, could sense how troubled she truly was by her latest attack, and he wanted to do whatever it took to chase away her distress.

Closing the refrigerator, he walked over to where she was leaning against the counter. Reaching out, he gently brushed a wisp of hair away from her cheek. "Tell you what. Why don't you go and take a hot shower, put on something comfortable like a pair of sweats, and just relax while I make you something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry," she said, her voice suddenly soft and husky. "Actually, there's only one thing I want right now."

He instantly recognized that look in her eyes. The undisguised wanting. The unabashed yearning. The blatant desire. She wore her need for him so openly and honestly, without any pretenses, and that was one of the things he loved about her.

He swallowed hard, refusing to analyze that last thought too closely. Instead, he decided to let Christine lure him in at her own pace, allow her to set the mood, and let tonight be all about her and what she needed the most.

"What is it that you want?" he asked, holding her gaze.

"You. I want you, Ben." The intense emotion etched in her features nearly stole his breath. "You're the only stable, reliable thing in my life right now. The one person who understands what I'm going through, and accepts me for who I am-without demands or expectations, or anything else." She stepped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest, right over his rapidly beating heart. "You make me feel sexy, and desirable, and that's what I need right now. I don't want to think about what happened today, or anything else but the two of us and how good you make me feel. Can you do that for me?"

Normally, she was so sultry and seductive, flirtatious even, when it came to wanting him. Now, she was just a woman who needed that physical connection, and that raw, mindless, no-frills pleasure that came with good, hot sex. It was a fascinating side to her that he'd never seen before, and it totally turned him on.

"Yeah, I can do that for you." He'd give her whatever she wanted. Whatever she needed.

"Good," she whispered. Moving closer to him, she slid her hand around to the nape of his neck and brought his mouth down to hers. Her lashes fluttered and her eyes closed; she sighed when his lips touched hers.

He let her control the kiss, which was at first warm and sweet, then gradually grew bolder and more daring, as did her actions. She pushed him up against the wall near the table at the same time she parted her lips and drew him into a deep, tongue-tangling French kiss he returned with an equal amount of heat and aggression.

He didn't bother asking her if she wanted to go into the bedroom to finish this tryst, knowing she'd refuse. Since their first time together, she'd embraced the adventurous side to sex, and he wasn't about to tame anything about the uninhibited, sexually confident woman she was becoming with him. Instead, he followed her lead and enjoyed everything about her enthusiasm and impulsive, sensual energy.

As her mouth continued to plunder his, she impatiently pulled the hem of his chambray shirt from his jeans, quickly unfastened the buttons, then shoved the material over his shoulders and down his arms. The shirt fell to the floor, and she skimmed her hands down his bared chest, until her fingers reached the snap of his jeans.

He caught her wrists to stop her, and a sound of protest rumbled up from her throat. He lifted his head and gave her a slow, sinful smile. "Give me a sec, sweetheart. I've got a loaded weapon on me and we wouldn't want it to accidentally discharge, now would we?" he teased.

She laughed breathlessly, giving him the moment he needed to remove the holster and the gun he kept concealed in the waistband of his pants, and place them safely out of their way. Then, before she had the chance to go back to stripping him out of his jeans, he reached for the hem of her black sweater and pulled it up and over her head.

"You're a little overdressed compared to me," he said, and tossed the garment aside. She was wearing a sexy, lacy, push-up bra that plumped her breasts oh-so-enticingly. He could see her hard, tight nipples through the sheer material, and he wanted to touch and taste and suck them deep into his mouth.

Slipping his fingers beneath the straps of her bra, he dragged them down her arms, his goal to uncover those luscious mounds of flesh so he could feast on them, but she pushed his hands away before he could accomplish his mission.

"Keep your hands to yourself." she said, as she playfully bit his bottom lip and plucked at his rigid nipples with her fingers before heading south. "You're distracting me, and I'm not done with you yet."

"Sorry," he murmured. He leaned back against the wall and relinquished control back to her.

No hardship there, he thought, not when those soft hands of hers caressed their way down his abdomen, released the snap and buttons on the fly of his jeans, then brazenly slid inside his boxer briefs to stroke the hard length of his erection in her palm.

Feeling his cock swell and thicken in her grasp, he groaned deep in his throat.

Emboldened by his response, she leaned into him, pressing her covered breasts against his chest and nuzzling her warm, damp lips along his neck as her hand delved deeper between his thighs, until she was gently squeezing and fondling his balls.

Jesus. His gut clenched, and unable to help himself, he splayed his palms on the backs of her bare thighs and slid them up beneath the pleated skirt she was still wearing. Reaching the frustrating barrier of her panties, he slipped his fingers beneath the elastic band around her leg so he could cup her smooth, bare ass in his hands.

She released a hot gust of breath in his ear at the same time she grazed the head of his shaft with her thumb. Lust and need ripped through him, and it took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to spread her out on the table behind her and take her hard and fast and deep.

She nibbled on the lobe of his ear, then touched her wet tongue to the sensitive shell. "I want to go down on you," she whispered, repeating those similar words he'd said to her the first night they'd made love. "I want to lick you, and taste you, and take you deep inside my mouth."

Hearing those arousing words spill from her lips was almost enough to make him come right then and there, in the palm of her hand. "Yes," he rasped, barely recognizing that scratchy voice as his own.

She kissed him again, a seductive preliminary of what else she was about to do with that lush, willing mouth of hers… and she took her slow, sweet time getting there. She stopped on the way to lave his nipples with her tongue, then kissed and nibbled her way down his taut abdomen, until she was kneeling in front of him. She gripped the waistband of his jeans and briefs and pulled them both down his thighs, completely freeing his throbbing shaft.

She stared at his erection in awe and fascination, her fingers caressing his length with a light brush, a tantalizing tease that had him gritting his teeth. She licked her lips, wetting them, reminding him that she'd never done this before, that he was her first when it came to this particular intimacy, and his cock swelled even more at the thought, growing hard to the point of pain.

Leaning forward, she slowly swept her tongue from the base of his shaft all the way up to the sensitive tip, tasting him in what felt like a long, endless, velvet stroke. She lapped the moisture that had seeped from the head, made a soft, eager sound for more, then took him, all of him, into the silken heat of that incredibly sweet mouth of hers.

White-hot sensations jolted through him at the erotic sight of her pleasuring him with such unbridled enthusiasm, with such shameless abandon. She pulled him in deep, then withdrew with a delicate swirl of her tongue and just enough suction to make him break out in a cold sweat. She repeated the process, once, twice, wrenching a guttural moan from him as every muscle in his body tensed.

She'd obviously paid closer attention to that porn flick than he'd realized, because he never would have known that she'd never given a guy a blow job before. Her sensual mouth was a man's wet dream come to life, a carnal fantasy that made him weak in the knees. Her lips continued to slide up and down his length, each time taking him a little deeper, sucking him a little harder, stroking him a little faster, and ultimately driving him straight to the edge of insanity.

Knowing he was on the verge of coming, and wanting to be inside of her when he did, he gently grasped her elbows and pulled her back up. Her beautiful face was flushed, her eyes a dark, arousing shade of blue, her soft, smiling mouth reflecting a feminine satisfaction that sent a renewed rush of heat spiraling down to his groin.

With a low, needy growl, he backed her up a few steps, grasped her around the waist, and lifted her so she was sitting on the table behind her. Her eyes widened in surprise at his unexpected and dominant move, and before she could object he dropped his mouth over hers and thrust his tongue deep. In response, she slid her hands up his chest to his shoulders, tracing the sinewy contours of his arms, the biceps that were taut from restraint.

A sense of urgency spurred him on. Pushing his hand beneath her skirt, he latched on to the sides of her panties and impatiently yanked them down and off. Still kissing her, he pressed his hands to her knees, shoved her legs wide apart, and skimmed his hand up her supple thigh.

He wanted to make sure she was ready for him. Wanted to make sure she was just as ramped up as he was. But as he reached the core of her, he realized that her own arousal wasn't an issue. She was already soft and slick with moisture, already turned on from giving him head, and that thought inflamed him even more.

Without hesitation, he pushed a finger deep inside of her and stroked his thumb over her clitoris, and she moaned against his mouth. A second finger followed, and her hips arched against his hand and her legs curled around the backs of his thighs in a desperate attempt to pull him closer. He increased the friction of his fingers-sliding, gliding, stroking, inside and out, letting the pleasure build until her entire body tensed, then shuddered as she climaxed.

He lifted his mouth from hers, breathing hard and fast. "I need a condom," he rasped.

She reached behind her on the table and found her purse. She rummaged through the contents and seconds later handed him a foil packet with an impish grin. "I figured it doesn't hurt to be prepared at all times."

He chuckled as he ripped open the package then rolled the latex down his straining dick. Pushing his jeans farther down his thighs to get them out of the way, he moved back between her spread legs, fully intending to take her just the way she was on the table.

She stopped him with a splayed hand on his chest, and a sexy gleam in her eyes. "Sit down on the chair behind you."

Giving in to her request, he stepped back and lowered his bare ass to the chair, while she jumped down from the table, hitched her skirt up, then straddled his lap. He guided his cock between her thighs, holding it in place as she slowly, inch by excruciating inch, lowered herself onto his shaft, until he was buried inside of her to the hilt. She grabbed onto the back of the chair, dropped her head back, closed her eyes, and groaned in pure, unadulterated pleasure.

He soughed a ragged breath at the erotic sight of Christine half-naked and so shameless in taking what she wanted. The fit of their bodies was tight and deep, the position leaving both of his hands free to caress and explore while she rode him at her own seductive pace. He pressed his mouth to her neck, scattering damp kisses along her throat and to her chest as he tugged the lacy cups of her bra down, exposing her breasts and the swollen, hard tips that rose up and begged for his touch.

She leaned back, giving him better access to her breasts as he lowered his head and laved a nipple before taking it deep inside his mouth. She clutched at his head and arched, offering herself up to him while gyrating her hips harder, faster, against his.

Despite how close to the edge he was, he tried to hang on just a little bit longer, waiting for her to catch back up. He curled his tongue around her other nipple, giving it equal attention as he sucked and nipped and teased the tender peak. She continued to rock against him, creating the most delicious friction, her insides slick and hot, clenching and unclenching around him until he felt the bubbling heat of his climax fast approaching.

Desperate to come, he lifted his head and fitted his mouth to hers, his tongue claiming hers in a deep, wet kiss. Taking charge, he gripped her hips with his hands, giving him the leverage he needed to meld their bodies in a way that allowed him to pull her down while he thrust into her harder, pumped faster, deeper. The heat inside grew hotter, like liquid fire doused with lust and passion and desire.

He felt her thighs tense against the building pressure of her orgasm, her inner muscles tightening spasmodically around his shaft as she embraced the climax rushing through her. She whimpered against his lips and he finally let go of his restraint, allowing his own scalding release to send him into the realm of complete ecstacy and utter bliss.

When his tremors subsided, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her damp neck, his emotions in a tangled mess. "Christy," he whispered, her name a soft litany as it escaped his lips.

She wound her fingers in his hair and gently tugged his head back, an enchanting smile on her lips. "Did you say what I think you just did?"

She looked so beautiful with her face flushed with satisfaction and her eyes shining with adoration-for him, he realized. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he teased.

"Oh, I think you do." She kissed him softly, her lips so sweet and coaxing. "Say it again."

He was beginning to think he couldn't deny this woman anything, and he didn't even try. "Christy," he murmured against the tender press of her mouth on his.

"Mmmm," she purred as she nibbled on his bottom lip. "I love the way that sounds, so sexy and husky." Sighing contentedly, their bodies still joined, she pulled back so she could look into his eyes. "You can't go back to calling me Christine. You know that, don't you?"

Her sassy, confident tone amused him. "We'll see about that."

She laughed and gave him one last affectionate kiss on his lips. "I could use a nice hot shower. Care to join me?"

"You scrub my back, I scrub yours?" he asked, lifting a brow.

"Yeah, something like that," she said with all kinds of sexy innuendo in her voice, the earlier incident with the snakes now completely forgotten. "I've never had a shower buddy before, and I'm thinking it could be fun."

He grinned, more than willing to give her another first. "Count me in."

CHRISTINE decided that taking a shower with Ben was a luxurious, not-to-be missed experience. The stall enclosure, finished in beige granite, was roomy enough for two, with dual his-and-hers showerheads on opposite sides of the walls and a small bench seat. She didn't normally use both spigots, but then again, she'd never had company in the shower, either.

At the moment, she was standing face-to-face with Ben, with the spray of water hitting them both in the shoulders and back, massaging muscles and sluicing their skin with moisture. Between slow, lazy kisses, Ben gently scrubbed her chest, arms, and stomach with a soapy bath sponge fragranced with her favorite vanilla body wash, while she ran her palms over his muscled chest. The more sensitive areas of her body were treated to the slick caress of his hands and fingers, and he was very thorough in making sure she was clean everywhere.

She sighed and enjoyed the relaxing, arousing process, knowing she'd get her turn to do the same to him very soon. She kissed him again, then looked into his dark, seductive brown eyes as a slow, contented smile curved her lips.

He returned her smile with one of his own as his hand glided over her breast, spreading the soap over the plump flesh and her tight nipple. "You're looking awfully… satisfied."

"For now," she replied impudently, knowing it wouldn't take much for her to want him again, even after those two amazing orgasms she'd had in the kitchen.

He chuckled, the deep, male sound echoing in the cubicle. "You're determined to wear me out, aren't you?"

She lifted a brow. "Are you complaining?"

"Not at all, sweetheart." He crouched down in front of her, letting the water drench him completely as he trailed the sponge down her legs, then back up again, his hands and fingers following the same path. "I aim to please."

Nudging her knees apart, he leaned forward and slid his tongue along the folds of her sex, delving deep. She gasped and tangled her hands in his hair, pulling his mouth closer, opening her legs wider. "And, oh, do you ever please me," she murmured, then groaned as he added just the right amount of pressure and gentle suction to that taut bud of flesh still tender from previous climaxes.

Heat flashed through her, along with a liquid desire that spiraled straight down to her core. Just that quickly, just that effortlessly, he kindled an intense, wanton need within her.

God, she was so easy when it came to this man.

And she embraced every single minute of it.

Ever since her first sexual experience in college, she'd blamed herself for her lack of any physical response when it came to intercourse. She thought things would be different with Jason, but when she'd failed to derive any real pleasure from their quick encounters, it had only reinforced her belief that she was frigid. Then, when she'd discovered the intimacy issues between her mother and father and how it had affected her parents relationship, she'd seriously begun to wonder if she just wasn't destined to follow in her mother's path and would forever settle for mediocre sex.

Now she knew better. Ben had shown her that she wasn't the one with the problem, but that the men in her previous relationships had been all wrong for her when it came to physical intimacy. It was all about compatibility, chemistry, a strong attraction, and equal parts give and take. Especially that. She'd come to learn that her former partners had been much too selfish, and she'd been far too passive.

Not anymore. Now she knew what hot, mind-blowing sex was like, and she'd never settle for less again.

Those thoughts disintegrated from her mind as Ben's mouth continued to tease and torment her, his tongue gliding rhythmically within her soft, swollen flesh along with the trickle of water from their shower. His touch sizzled like lightning over her nerve endings, and when her legs began to tremble with the onset of her climax, he curved his big hands around to the backs of her thighs to help keep her upright as she gave herself over to the lust and ecstacy rushing through her body, pushing her higher, then higher still before letting her free-fall back down to earth.

When she opened her eyes again, it was to find that he'd risen to his full height, his eyes blazing with pure male arrogance and his long, thick erection prodding insistently against her belly. He layered his warm, pliable lips overs hers, and she tasted herself in his sweet, soulful kiss.

When he finally lifted his head moments later, she released a soft, sensual sigh. "Mmmm, that was nice. Very nice." Reaching between his thighs, she wrapped her hand around his shaft and nipped at his bottom lip. "I have to say that it's a huge relief to know that I'm nothing like my mother when it comes to sex."

He blinked at her, his expression suddenly wary. "Excuse me?"

Okay, that had just slipped right out without her really thinking through the impact of her comment. Judging by the uncertain look in Ben's eyes he obviously had no desire to think about her mother and sex in the same sentence. Yet, there was just enough curiosity lingering in the depth of his gaze to give her the fortitude she needed to explain, to divulge the secret she'd kept for so long to the one person she trusted the most. Ben.

That in itself was a huge revelation, and she exhaled a deep breath to settle her suddenly racing heart. "My mother isn't very fond of sex."

He digested that for a second, then asked, "And you know this how?"

"Because I had the unfortunate luck of overhearing a very heated argument between my mother and father." Needing something to keep her hands busy while she talked, she took the sponge from his hands, reapplied a generous amount of liquid body wash, and began scrubbing his shoulders and arms.

"I'd just graduated from boarding school, and when I moved back home for the summer before starting college, I realized that my parents were sleeping in separate rooms, which I found odd, but of course I didn't say anything." As she ran the sponge over his broad chest, the warm water from his showerhead rinsed the suds down the length of his body.

She concentrated on his taut abdomen, keeping her gaze cast downward while she took her trip back into the past. "But one day I came home early from visiting a friend and heard loud voices coming from the master bedroom. My mother was accusing my father of having an affair, which he openly admitted to, and I remember him saying to her. 'Can you blame me? You won't let me touch you and we haven't had sex in over fifteen years. There's no intimacy between us, yet you've made it clear that if I file for divorce you'll make sure I can kiss my political career good-bye; Then he stormed out of the bedroom and literally ran into me. Both my mother and father knew I'd heard everything, and that's when my mother decided I was old enough to know the truth."

Ben tucked his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her gaze back to his. "And that was?"

Touched by the tenderness in Ben's eyes, she went on. "My father left the house and my mother sat me down and told me that three years after I was born she got pregnant again, but five months into the pregnancy she miscarried. She ended up hemorrhaging so badly that she had to have a hysterectomy and couldn't have any more kids. After that, she said she had no interest in sex. She didn't want it, didn't need it, and she had no desire for it. And judging from what I heard, that translated into her not sleeping with my father anymore."

Ben visibly winced. "I can't even imagine. I'm not one to condone affairs outside of a marriage, but a part of me can understand why your father did it."

She nodded in agreement. "Me, too. Physically and emotionally, he wasn't getting what he needed from my mother. So, since my mother didn't want a divorce because she liked the social aspect of being married to a politician, and my father didn't want to tarnish his reputation with a nasty separation, they came to a compromise. They would stay married for my mother's sake and my father's career, and out in public they'd pretend they were a happy couple. Since my mother didn't want sex, she allowed my father to maintain his affair so long as he kept things discreet, which he has."

Ben looked completely taken aback by her parents' elaborate cover-up. "That's quite an arrangement."

"I suppose it works for them for whatever reason, but it's obvious to me that neither one of them is happy. My father has been with the same woman all these years, a paralegal at a law firm here in Chicago who understands the rules, and somehow accepts them to be with my father." She slid the soapy sponge down his thighs, then automatically worked her way back up to his chest. "As for my mother… now that I'm no longer the main focus of her life because I have one of my own, she spends her days with her rich, affluent friends, and drinks way too much at night when she's alone. She'd never admit that she has a drinking problem, but even I can see that she's abusing alcohol in order to deal with other issues in her life. I've tried to talk to her about it, and so has my father, but she refuses to get any help."

Reaching out, he tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear, his touch as gentle and reverent as the look in his eyes. "I'm sorry you've had to deal with all that."

"It's okay." She shrugged as she rinsed the sponge. "I refuse to let my mother's issues become my own. I've learned to stand up to her, and live my life for myself, instead of what she envisioned for me. Now turn around so I can scrub your back."

He did as she asked, and just when she thought they'd exhausted the topic of her mother's and father's issues, he said, "I find it interesting that your dad was so angry about Jason's infidelity when he, himself, is having an affair."

Adding more soap to the sponge, she started in on his shoulders and followed the strong line of his back down to the base of his spine, then up again. "I know it seems hypocritical, but my father has always been very protective of me, and while he knows that having an affair is morally wrong, he made sure I knew that he didn't want his daughter to marry someone that wasn't one hundred percent devoted to her."

"As it should be," Ben replied gruffly, apparently a strong advocate of monogamy.

"My mother, on the other hand, felt quite the opposite about the whole infidelity issue, as you well know," she added wryly. "She told me that was just the way men were and sex wasn't important, that they could get sex anywhere, anytime, and that being a good wife was what mattered in a marriage, especially when you married a prominent man, which she fully expected me to do."

Ben's only reply to that was a grunt of disgust.

She smiled as she stroked the sponge over the tight, muscular curve of his butt and the crevice in between that led to the crux of his thighs. "At the time, a part of me couldn't help but wonder if she was right about sex not being important, and considering how all my sexual experiences up to that point had left me cold, I was beginning to think that I was just like my mother in that regard. That sex would never be that thrilling, exciting encounter I'd always hoped it would be."

He turned back around to look at her, his expression sinfully sexy as water streamed over his shoulders and down his amazing body. "Now you know differently, don't you?"

"Yeah, thanks to you," she said as she trailed a finger down the firm line bisecting his abdomen.

"You've always been a sensual woman, Christy," he said, then grinned much too arrogantly. "It just took the right man to bring it out in you."

She laughed, then sobered, her feelings for Ben suddenly overwhelming her. "I'm glad that man was you."

He grew just as serious. "Me, too."

She stared into his gorgeous eyes, wondering if he felt even a glimmer of the same emotion for her that she did for him. She knew without a doubt he cared about her, but there was something that seemed to hold him back emotionally, and she wondered if it was the loss of his fiancée in the war that kept his feelings for her insulated, unable to give himself to another woman. Then there was the fact that she was just a client he was having an affair with until their time together was over.

Wasn't that exactly what she'd asked for? A hot, temporary tryst that didn't interfere with her newfound independence and freedom. So why was she beginning to want so much more with Ben? And why did her heart feel more involved than she'd ever intended?

Unsure whether or not she was ready to face the answer to those questions when she had no idea where she stood with Ben, she instead gave him a crooked smile and teased, "And here you thought you were the only one with a dysfunctional family and past."

He chuckled at that and ran his thumb over her rigid nipple, making her forget everything but him and the exquisite way he made her feel. "The water is starting to get cool. What do you say we take this party into the bedroom?"

"Mmmm," she purred deep in her throat as she took a hold of his shaft and gave him a slow, firm stroke that made him growl like a tempted tiger. "That all depends on what you have in mind."

"How about making you scream with pleasure?" he suggested, looking completely, deliciously depraved.

Knowing he was a man of his word, Christine wasn't about to turn down his wicked offer. "Oh, yeah, that definitely works for me."

Chapter Thirteen

THE shrill sound of the phone ringing woke Ben immediately. His first instinct was to reach for the receiver to answer the call, until he realized that he was in Christine's bed and she needed to pick up the phone. A quick glance at the digital clock on her nightstand told him it was almost twenty after eleven in the evening, and calls that came that late at night usually tended to be emergencies of some sort.

Another ring, and Christine stirred beside him and sat up, momentarily disoriented from being in such a deep sleep. She pushed her disheveled hair out of her face, reached for the receiver, and answered the call with a husky, drowsy, "Hello?"

She was quiet for a moment, then replied, "Yes, this is she," and grew silent once again as whoever was on the other end of the line continued to talk.

Concerned and curious, Ben came up on his arm and watched as Christine's expression gradually changed from sleepy to awake as she listened to the one-way conversation and answered with "yes" and "that's correct" and other short sentences that didn't give Ben any clue as to what was going on. The only thing he knew for certain was that the person she was speaking to wasn't family, which alleviated some of his worry.

Finally, she hung up the phone, switched on the bedside light, and turned toward him with a frown creasing her brows and a stunned look on her face. "Wow," she said with a shake of her head.

As far as explanations went, it didn't give him much to go on. "Is everything okay?" he prompted.

She shivered, and realizing that the upper half of her body was naked, she pulled the covers up to her chest. "You're not going to believe this. That was the Chicago P.D. and they have Jason in custody."

"Really?" he asked, equally surprised, then wondered if Christine had been Jason's "one call" that he'd most likely been granted. "Why did they call you?"

"A few hours ago one of the girls that I'm friendly with at the coffee shop across from The Big Event witnessed someone spray painting profanities on the front windows of the business and called the cops," she told him. "They showed up, caught him in the act, and arrested him for being drunk and disorderly, as well as for vandalism. When they got him back to the station and booked him, they saw that I had a restraining order against Jason, and cross-referenced that to me also being the owner of The Big Event."

The guy was beginning to be a real pain in the ass, Ben thought, and wondered if Jason's actions were in any way related to the snakes that had been sent the day before, or the blackmail attempts against Nathan Delacroix. It all tied together and made sense, with Christine's ex-fiancé having the strongest motivation for terrorizing her, but so far there was no concrete evidence that Jason was responsible for anything that had happened so far.

He released a frustrated sigh. "So, that was a courtesy call, so to speak."

She nodded. "Yes, which I appreciate. At least I know what to expect when I get to the office in the morning. I'll have to get someone out right away to take care of the spray paint on the windows."

"I'll take care of that for you," he said, alleviating that burden. It was just a matter of using a razor and some acetone to remove the offensive words, and that would give him something to do tomorrow. "Did they say what would happen with Jason?"

"The officer said he'll most likely be arraigned in the morning and released on bail if he can get it posted." She sighed heavily. "I just wish he'd leave me alone and get on with his life."

That was easier said than done, Ben suspected. "He's obviously still bitter about a lot of things and blames you for his downfall. The guy needs help with his anger and drinking problems."

"I can't argue with you there." She flopped back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling. "Tomorrow is certainly going to be a fun-filled day," she said, an edge of sarcasm to her voice. "If this vandalism isn't enough to deal with, I have a lunch date with my mother."

And she didn't sound happy about it, either. Neither was he, considering he'd be subjected to Audrey's imperious attitude, as well. "I didn't know you were meeting your mother for lunch."

Christine rolled her head on the pillow so she could look at him. "She called me today at the office, right before the snake incident, and she said we needed to 'do lunch,' which translates into she needs to talk to me about something."

"She couldn't do it over the phone?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, she could, but she likes the whole 'see and be seen' aspect of lunch in a nice, expensive restaurant."

"Okay, then we'll go and 'see and be seen,'" he said, his teasing comment coaxing a smile out of her.

Lifting a hand, she cupped his cheek in her palm, her thumb scratching over the light stubble on his jaw. "Ahhh, you're such a trouper."

"You forget, as your bodyguard, I don't have much of a choice."

She laughed. "Regardless, I appreciate the buffer. Having you there will hopefully make the lunch, and the conversation, more pleasant."

Ben wasn't sure about that, but kept the comment to himself as she switched off the light.

He lay back down, and she automatically snuggled up against his side, her cheek resting on his chest and one arm slung across his stomach. It had been forever since he'd actually slept with a woman all night long, let alone cuddled with one. But after living a solitary life for so long, he couldn't deny that he liked the intimacy of holding Christine close throughout the night, and waking up to her in the morning.

Unfortunately, he knew better than to get used to the feeling. By this same time next week, he'd be back in his own bed in his stark apartment. Alone once again.

AT noon the next day, Ben and Christine walked into The Capital Grille and were led toward a private area of the restaurant where Audrey Delacroix was already seated and had already consumed half a glass of wine. Instead of wearing his normal jeans and shirt, today Ben had opted for a pair of nice brown trousers and a collared shirt. Considering that most everyone was decked out in business attire, he was glad that he'd dressed up for the occasion.

The host stopped at Audrey's table, and Ben waited while Christine greeted her mother and bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek before saying hello himself.

"Good afternoon. Mrs. Delacroix," he said politely.

She didn't even glance his way. "Hello." Her tone was rigid and forced, as she'd replied only because etiquette demanded she do so.

The host pulled out a chair for Christine, and once she was seated, Ben moved to sit down beside her.

"You'll be sitting with Dominic over in the other room." She waved a dismissive hand in that direction, still not meeting his gaze, making him feel once again like the lowly hired help.

Christine leaned forward in her seat and shot Audrey a mortified look. "Mother!"

"It's okay." Ben settled a hand on Christine's shoulder to reassure her. "As long as I can see you at all times, I don't have a problem with that."

Christine glanced up at him apologetically, and he let her know with an easygoing smile that she had absolutely nothing to be sorry for. It wasn't her fault that her mother felt compelled to be so rude to him, or anyone else that didn't meet her prominent criteria.

So much for providing a buffer for Christine, Ben thought as he followed the host to a table in the adjoining room, where he said hello and shook hands with Audrey's security agent, Dominic, before sitting down. The two of them were seated in a way that they could see and watch Audrey and Christine, but were far enough away not to be associated with them while they ate lunch.

Ben went ahead and ordered the grilled swordfish with lemon herb butter, along with a soda, and while their entrees were being prepared he conversed with Dominic, who Ben knew from working as a part-time bodyguard for Nathan. The other man used to be an undercover agent before going into the security business, so between the two of them they had plenty to talk about to keep them occupied during lunch.

Over the next hour, while Ben enjoyed his tender, flavorful swordfish and kept up a steady stream of conversation with Dominic, he also watched Christine and Audrey interact and came to the conclusion that the other woman was as cold as ice. After learning from Christine just how glacial Audrey actually was, physically and emotionally, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her being so caustic all the time-and wanting everyone else around her to be just as miserable.

He also found it interesting that Audrey never smiled at Christine, and she never displayed any warmth or outward affection for her only child. She sat in her chair with her back straight and her hands folded in her lap, immaculately dressed in her long-sleeved silk top and not a blond hair out of place as she finished off four full glasses of wine.

They could have been two strangers having a meal together, if not for the myriad emotions he witnessed passing over Christine's features that told him their conversation was very personal. He was seated too far away to hear what they were discussing, but whatever was on Audrey's mind caused a look of disdain to pinch her features, and made Christine increasingly upset-to the point that she cut the lunch short and didn't even finish her salad. Even more telling was the fact that Christine pushed back her chair and left her furious-looking mother sitting at the table by herself as she headed straight for him in the other room.

She stopped at his table and managed a sweet and genuine hello to Dominic before turning to Ben. She glanced from his empty plate to his face. "I'm glad to see you at least enjoyed your meal," she said pointedly, making it clear that her lunch hadn't settled as well as his had. "I'm ready to go."

Oh, boy. Christine looked like a woman scorned, and Ben decided it wasn't a pretty sight.

Since the meal was expensed to the Delacroix account and he didn't have to wait for a check, Ben scooted back his chair and escorted Christine out of the restaurant. The valet brought her Lexus around to the carport, and after opening the passenger side door for her, he slid behind the wheel and directed the vehicle back to The Big Event.

He spent the first half of the drive watching Christine fume and stew as she stared out the side window, waiting patiently for her to either tell him what was wrong, or explode from the tension building within her.

When she did neither, he decided to see what he could wheedle out of her. "What happened back there at the restaurant with your mother?"

"Nothing," she replied succinctly.

He wanted to laugh, but opted for another form of humor instead. "The food was that bad, huh? Or was it the service? That waiter did seem a little slow getting your salad to the table."

She shot him a bewildered look. "What are you talking about?"

After making a left-hand turn on the street where her business was located, he shrugged casually. "Something has you a little irked. I figured if it wasn't something your mother said or did, it had to be something related to your lunch."

She sighed, releasing some of the stiffness from her shoulders, as well as softening the taut line of her lips. "The lunch was fine. My mother, however, was in rare form today."

He parked the car in Christine's designated spot behind the business, cut the engine, but didn't make any move to get out of the vehicle. Instead, he turned toward her and rested his arm along the back of her seat.

"Care to talk about it?" he asked gently. Honestly, he was damn curious what had gone on between the two women to make a normally carefree and cheerful Christine so antagonized.

She released a long "arrgghhh!" of frustration that seemed to deflate most of her anger, then met his gaze, her expression taking on that impish quality he adored. "Sorry, I just had to let that out."

He grinned. "I completely understand." He grew silent again, leaving the decision to talk up to her. She was quiet for so long, he almost thought that she was going to keep everything to herself.

But then she finally spoke. "My mother received a phone call from one of her friends who told her that she'd heard that I was dating my bodyguard. So, she asked me if it was true."

Ben winced, belatedly realizing how Christine's little scheme had come around to bite her in the butt as far as her mother was concerned. No doubt, Audrey hadn't been pleased to hear that her daughter might be dating someone far beneath their social stature. Not when Audrey expected far better for Christine-even if that meant marrying a man who didn't love and cherish her, as Jason clearly had not.

He wrapped a silky strand of her hair around his finger, feeling just ensnared by the woman herself. "What did you tell your mother?"

"That my personal life was no longer any of her business," she said with a mutinous lift of her chin. "But she wouldn't leave it alone and kept pushing for an answer, so I told her the truth, that I was dating you, and it shouldn't be an issue with her since I'm an adult, I'm single, and it wasn't her choice to make. And that, of course, led to a heated argument about…"

She let the rest of her sentence trail off as she shook her head and looked away, giving Ben the distinct feeling that the unpleasant verbal exchange had been all about him, and not in a positive way, either. And knowing that made him all the more aware of the many differences between them when it came to living in the Delacroix's world of wealth, politics, and high-society precedence.

Christine rubbed her fingers across her forehead. "Anyway, she made me so mad that I had to put an end to the lunch or I knew I'd end up making a scene she wouldn't have appreciated."

With his fingers still tangled in her hair, he caressed his thumb along her soft cheek. "Well, in a few more days, she'll have nothing to worry about." The election was in five days, and once that was over and Christine's safety was secured, they'd revert back to being friends and acquaintances, which would undoubtedly thrill her mother.

Christine's cell phone rang, interrupting the moment between them. She dug into her purse for the unit, checked the caller ID, and grimaced. "It's Craig. He's been trying to get a hold of me for the past two days to talk about something regarding my party next week. I should take his call."

She answered the phone, and Ben listened as she discussed a few last party details with Craig. As much as he despised the man for various reasons, Ben was beginning to think that he was fairly harmless-especially in comparison to Jason, whose bitter antics were starting to get more personal and public. Craig definitely liked Christine and had no qualms about making his attraction known, and even though those intimate feelings weren't reciprocated, there was no crime in a man being interested in a woman.

Even if Ben didn't like it one bit.

AFTER the crazy, stressful week Christine'd had, Ben was glad that she'd agreed to accompany him to Joel and Lora's wedding-a small, casual affair equivalent to a warm, family gathering that everyone felt a part of. The Saturday outing provided them both with the much-needed opportunity to get out of the house, and gave Christine a welcome distraction from her mother's silent treatment after their lunch a few days ago, as well as the fact that Jason was out on bail and her father had received yet another threat to drop out of the upcoming election.

It was a perfect cool and sunny day for an afternoon, outdoor wedding. The guests sat on padded folding chairs as Joel and Lora stood beneath an archway decorated with bright, colorful flowers and exchanged their vows in front of family and friends. Their expressions were full of the kind of love and adoration a person couldn't help but envy, and as Ben cast a quick glance at Christine sitting beside him, he could see that she was just as caught up in the ceremony, and the genuine emotion between the couple, as most of the women there were.

Joel and Lora were flanked by Lora's best friend, Sydney, who was standing in as the bridesmaid, and Lora's brother, Zach, as the best man. Considering everything that Zach Marshall had been through-in the Iraq War and then dealing with the aftermath by burying his painful past with addictions to gambling and alcohol that nearly ruined his life-he finally looked clean and sober. Zach had spent a good amount of time in rehab and was still working through his personal demons, but thanks to Joel and Lora's unwavering support, as well as becoming a security agent at ESS, which offered him a strong comradery with his ex-Marine buddies, the man was finally making a stable life for himself. And because of that. Ben was very happy for Zach.

As the minister read an intimate poem to the guests that spoke about love and friendship and the kind of eternal promises made between a husband and wife, Ben felt Christine's hand slide into his, gentle and warm. Palm to palm, their fingers intertwined, and something within Ben filled with a longing so strong, it nearly overwhelmed him. It amazed him that this woman, who was no doubt used to elaborate weddings, was so touched by such a simple ceremony.

Then the minister introduced Lora and Joel as a married couple, and the moment between Ben and Christine dissipated as they stood up with the rest of the guests and cheered as Joel kissed his blushing bride with enthusiasm.

A casual reception followed in the backyard, with a buffet of food, upbeat music for dancing, and an abundance of babies and toddlers courtesy of all the Wilde family members that had gotten married over the past few years. With his hand resting on the base of Christine's spine, he led her toward where Joel and Lora were standing off to the side, mingling with guests.

As soon as Ben reached Joel, he shook the other man's hand and gave him a firm slap on the back. "Congratulations, Wilde Man," he said, then turned his attention to Lora, who was wearing a flowing white wedding dress and a very happy smile. "You look absolutely beautiful." He kissed her on the cheek. "I'm glad to see that Joel found someone who can keep him in line."

"All that military training has come in handy." Lora's eyes sparkled with female humor as she hooked her arm through her groom's. "He knows how to take orders very well."

Joel rolled his eyes, silently conceding to his wife's comment. Ben laughed, then went on to introduce the woman by his side. "I'd like you both to meet Christy."

Lora's eyes widened in delight. "Oh, you brought a date!"

She seemed so excited, mainly because Lora had spent the past year trying to find a suitable woman for him. He almost hated to burst her bubble. "Actually, she's a current client of ESS." Ben explained her relation to Nathan Delacroix, which garnered Christine a round of promises from the newly married couple to vote for the man.

"It's a pleasure to meet both of you," Christine said sincerely. "It was a beautiful ceremony."

"Thank you." Lora beamed. "I hope you two plan to stay a while and enjoy the reception."

"Absolutely," Ben replied. "We were just heading over to the buffet for something to eat."

A young boy ran by them, but before he could pass Joel, the other man reached out and caught him up in his arms. Ben recognized the cute, energetic four-year-old as Cody, Steve Wilde's son.

"Whoa, partner!" Joel exclaimed in an animated voice. "Where do you think you're going at the speed of light?"

Cody squirmed in his embrace and pointed to a table near the buffet. "I wanna see the cake!"

Joel glanced in that direction. The confection the boy was interested in was a double-tiered chocolate-frosted cake that looked rich and delicious. "Just keep your fingers out of it, okay?"

The boy grinned impishly. " 'Kay!" As soon as Joel set him back down, Cody took off once again, with another one of Joel's little relatives following behind to see the cake, too.

Joel chuckled and shook his head. "Talk about double trouble."

"And you and your two brothers weren't triple trouble at that age?" Ben asked, certain the Wilde siblings had been an equal handful. "Besides. I'm sure you and Lora will be adding to the brood in a year or so."

"I'm looking forward to it," Lora chimed in. "Maybe a little girl who'll wrap Joel around her finger."

A half-grin curved Joel's lips as he met Lora's gaze. "Oh, man, you know I won't stand a chance against that."

She gently touched his cheek, the abundance of love between them so evident. "That's what I'm counting on."

The photographer came up to the new couple and pulled Joel and Lora away for some wedding photos with Joel's parents. Ben guided Christine toward the patio area where the food was located, and introduced her to a few other people on the way. They said a quick hello to Scott and Ashley, whom Christine had met at the charity event the previous weekend, and Adrian-one of Joel's cousins-and his wife, Chayse, stopped to chat with them, too.

After loading their plates with finger sandwiches, potato salad, fruit, and a few other appetizers, then picking up drinks at the bar, they made their way back to a table where Ben's buddies and coworkers, Kevin, Jon, and Zach, were sitting with their own meals. Christine sat down next to Kevin, the most familiar face of the group, and Ben took the chair next to her.

After introducing her to Jon and Zach, Kevin leaned toward her and said with a charming smile, "I think it's only fair that I should warn you that I wanted you here today so I could steal you away from Ben."

Christine suppressed a grin, but couldn't disguise the amusement dancing in her eyes. "A man with ulterior motives, huh?"

"You bet. Especially when it comes to beautiful women." Kevin winked at her.

"Be careful," Jon piped in from across the table. "Kevin's a player."

The other man snorted in reply. "Oh, and you're not?"

"I'm just not so obvious about it." Jon said with a smug look, and took a big bite of his potato salad.

Kevin dismissed his comment with a wave of his hand. "Yeah, whatever, Jon Boy."

Zach, the quiet one of the group, finally spoke up. "Geez, do you guys ever quit?"

"No." Kevin and Jon answered at the same time.

Christine laughed, then took a sip of her champagne. "You all sound like you could be brothers. Argumentative and very competitive."

"We're as close to being brothers as you can get," Ben said, knowing everyone else at the table felt the same exact way.

"Hey, Zach," Ben said, garnering the other man's attention. "How's things going for you at ESS?" He'd only been with the firm for a few months and hadn't been assigned any outside jobs yet. They all wanted to be sure that Zach would be ready, mentally and emotionally, to tackle the stress and pressures of an actual security job.

Zach finished taking a drink of his soda-his choice of beverage since alcohol was off-limits for him-then shrugged. "I'm becoming quite the computer geek," he said, a slight bit of humor in his tone as he referred to his current office position of using the computer and Internet to research specific information on some of their cases. "By the way, that reminds me. Kevin gave me that return address on the box that was delivered to Christine's office earlier this week, and it led to a dead end."

Ben noticed that Zach's comment had piqued Christine's curiosity, as well. "What do you mean?"

"The address led to one of those postal stores where you can rent a postbox for a tee." Finished eating, Zach pushed his empty plate aside. "Except whoever sent the package just used the postal store as a bogus return address, since the box number he listed didn't even exist."

Ben wasn't surprised that the person had covered their tracks. "Thanks for checking it out. We have a pretty good idea who sent the snakes. It would have just been nice to get some solid evidence so we could press charges against the guy."

For the next half an hour, the conversation turned to more inconsequential topics that led to either Kevin and Jon ribbing one another, or Kevin flirting with Christine-no doubt to annoy Ben. There was a whole lot of laughter at their table, and once the DJ started spinning fun, upbeat tunes and encouraged guests to get up and dance, Kevin didn't hesitate to do so.

He stood up and grinned at Christine as Pink's "Get This Party Started" blasted from the speakers. "Since all the women here today are either married, engaged, or in a serious relationship, and you're not," he added, just to annoy Ben, "how about you and I go and dance?"

Kevin held his hand out to Christine, and she let him pull her up from her chair. "I'd love to dance," she said, and let him lead her toward the far end of the patio that had been designated as the dance floor.

Ben watched the two of them go, his gaze drawn to Christine's slender backside and the way her long-sleeved knit dress clung to all her soft curves. The dress was simple in design, but it was the jewel-toned purple hue of the material that made her look so vibrant, and those high heels that made her legs look so damned long and sexy.

"Are you going to let him make a move on your date like that?" Jon asked, clearly hoping for a tussle between the two men.

"Christy is free to dance with whoever she'd like."

Christy. Now the name slipped from his lips much too easily. Much too intimately. And that so was not a good thing.

"Then why are you glaring at Kevin?" Zach asked.

Ben didn't bother denying the truth. "Because he's deliberately provoking me and he knows it."

Jon chuckled much too knowingly. "You wouldn't feel provoked if you didn't have a thing for her, now would you?"

Ben transferred his dark scowl to Jon. "Shut up, already, will ya?"

"Sure thing, Benjamin." Grinning, and obviously done tormenting him, Jon stood up. "I think I'll go and put in a request with the DJ. 'Great Balls of Fire' ought to do it."

It was one of those songs they'd sang together in the military during down time when they were trying to find things to amuse themselves, and Ben knew it would bring back a lot of fun memories for all of them.

"While you're there, make a request for me, too," Ben said. "Garth Brooks's 'Friends in Low Places.'"

Jon laughed. "You got it."

Ben nursed the last of his beer and returned his attention back to Christine, who was having a great time out on the dance floor with Kevin, and a lot of the other guests. After putting in a few song requests, Jon joined the party revelers and did his best to try to steal Christine from Kevin so he'd have a dance partner, too.

He couldn't help but notice how well she fit in with everyone. She was classy, yet so approachable. So likeable and accepting. Compared to her mother, a person would never have known that Christine came from a very prominent, wealthy family.

Nearly a dozen songs later, and after being dipped, twirled, and generally worn out from the energetic dances, Christine returned to the table looking happy and relaxed. She sat down next to him, her face flushed as she tried to catch her breath.

She swiped away a damp strand of hair clinging to her cheek, her eyes a bright, sparkling shade of blue. "Those two sure know how to wear a girl out."

Since the two of them were currently alone at the table, Ben decided to stake his claim where he could. He placed a hand on her bare knee beneath the table, and leaned in close. "Lucky for me, I know how to wear you out in the way that matters most."

"Mmmm." She touched her fingers beneath his chin, her gaze brimming with desire and heat-all for him. "That you do. And you don't have to worry, I have plenty of energy left for later."

"Christine?"

Both Ben and Christine turned at the sound of a female voice calling her name. Ben instantly recognized Mia Wilde with her unique gray-silver eyes, who was holding a bundled-up baby in her arms as she approached.

"You're Christine Delacroix, the one who owns The Big Event, right?" she asked, smiling warmly as she extended her hand toward Christine. "I'm Mia Wilde."

"Oh!" Christine's eyes widened with genuine delight as she shook the other woman's hand. "After talking on the phone so many times, it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. This gives me the opportunity to thank you face-to-face for your donation to the Children's AIDS Foundation auction. And call me Christy, please."

"I was happy to be a part of the charity auction," Mia said as she shifted the squirming baby in her arms. "The high bidder for the stained glass design contacted me this week, so I'll be starting their design pretty soon."

"That's wonderful." Christine smiled at the little dark-haired baby peeking from the pink blanket she was wrapped up in. "And who is that?"

Mia beamed like the proud new mother she was. "This is my three-month-old daughter, Sophie, the latest addition to the ever-growing Wilde family."

"She's beautiful," Christine said softly. "Do you mind if I hold her?"

"Are you kidding me?" Mia laughed and happily handed over the little girl. "I'd love the break. She's like carrying around a thirteen-pound weight."

Christine gazed down at the cherubic face staring back up at her. "She's a very lucky girl to be surrounded by so much family."

"Yes, though having a very large family can be a curse, too," Mia said wryly, and Ben knew she was referring to her very overprotective brothers and cousins. "But mostly it is a blessing."

"Hey, I've been looking for you." Cameron, Mia's husband, came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "The DJ is playing our song."

Mia tipped her head and listened to the tune, then frowned at Cameron. "This isn't our song. I don't even think we have a song."

"Then consider this one it." He gave her an irresistible grin. "It's a slow song, someone else is holding the baby, and I want to dance with my wife."

Christine waved her free hand at the couple. "Go right ahead. I'll watch Sophie."

"Are you sure?" Mia asked, though it was clear to see that she'd welcome the opportunity to enjoy a slow dance with her husband.

"I'm absolutely sure," Christine said, encouraging her to go. "I love babies and she's very sweet."

"Come on, let's go before she realizes that Sophie is just fooling her." Cameron grabbed Mia's hand and pulled her toward the patio.

"She is a good baby," Mia said from over her shoulder as her husband dragged her away.

Once the couple was gone, Christine pulled the blanket a bit looser to see more of the baby. Sophie was wearing a frilly pink dress for the occasion of seeing her uncle Joel get married, and her little arms flailed wildly as they were freed from the covers. Christine laughed and pressed her pinky into the baby's palm, and Sophie latched on to the finger and cooed.

An affectionate smile curved Christine's lips as she glanced up at him. "Would you like to hold her?"

Ben held up both of his hands, not sure how to handle such a little wriggling thing like Sophie. "No, it's okay. You're doing a great job with her."

Christine went back to talking to the baby in a low, gentle tone, and the infant girl stared up at her in mesmerized awe. There was something about seeing Christine like this-the tender look on her face, the maternal, nurturing instincts in play-that struck a chord deep inside of Ben.

Marriage. Family. Babies. A sense of complete and utter contentment. He'd almost had that once with Kim. They'd talked about all those things, along with envisioning a future that had seemed so hopeful and promising, and filled with all the things that had been missing from his own life for so long.

Those bright, aspiring dreams had died with Kim. And so had a big part of him. His heart and emotions hadn't been the same since that fateful day in Iraq when he'd held his dying fiancée in his arms.

But as he watched Christine bond with the tiny baby in her arms, he knew that someday, when the right person came along, this woman would make some lucky guy a wonderful wife and mother.

Unfortunately, that man wouldn't be him.

Chapter Fourteen

HOURS later, Ben followed Christine into her house and switched on the light in the living room. She turned around to face him, her high-heeled shoes dangling from her fingertips, and a soft, contented smile on her lips.

"I really had a nice time today… and tonight," she added, since the reception and celebration had lasted until nearly ten.

"So did Jon and Kevin," he replied good-naturedly as he slipped his hands into his pants' pockets. "They sure kept you busy out on the dance floor."

She laughed and curled her bare toes into the carpet. "They're nice guys. All of them. And they don't do a thing for me," she assured him. Closing the distance between the two of them, she placed a hand on his chest, her eyes an extraordinary shade of blue. "Except they do make me laugh. A lot. And that's not a bad thing considering my life lately."

"I definitely agree with that."

"I hope you don't mind that I invited them to my birthday party at Envy next week. They'll definitely keep the guests entertained."

He grinned. "I can't argue with that."

She tipped her head, causing her tousled hair to fall to one side. "How about you? Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah, I did." He'd spent most of the day watching Christine-mingling with his friends, interacting with the guests, holding Mia's daughter, Sophie. He thought about those high heels she'd worn for hours, her energy out on the dance floor, and the few yawns she'd tried to hide on the drive home, and knew she had to be worn out. "You must be exhausted."

"My feet are a bit sore, but I'm actually wide awake." She started toward her bedroom, then stopped and looked over her shoulder at him, a come-hither look in her eyes. "I need a little help getting my dress off. Care to help?"

Since the dress was made of a stretchy kind of material, and there was no zipper, taking it off was just a matter of pulling it over her head-and that certainly didn't require his assistance. But her sweet smile was filled with the kind of pure, shameless temptation that made him weak in the knees and unable to resist anything about her. Knowing he'd be a fool to refuse since he only had a few more nights to spend with her, he took Christine's hand and followed her back to her master bedroom.

After today, his emotions felt as though they were in an upheaval that he couldn't quite sort out. He knew and understood that their affair was a temporary deal-she'd made that clear from the beginning. Having just broken off an engagement and still dealing with the wrath of her mother, Christine wasn't looking for anything permanent. And now, she was getting a taste for being independent and out from under Audrey's thumb, and he knew she loved that newfound freedom.

As for him, he'd never fit into Christine's life long-term, at least not comfortably considering their opposite lifestyles. Hell, he didn't even know if he could give her everything she deserved emotionally from a relationship-he wasn't sure he had it in him anymore. Between the wrenching realization that his mother had walked out on him when he was a boy, never to be heard from again, to losing Kim and even other comrades he'd befriended in the war, he felt all tapped out.

But he couldn't deny that he wanted her. Desired her. And ultimately, he cared deeply for her, and those were key elements when it came to being with Christine. The bedroom was the one place they were equal and completely compatible, in every way. It was their own private world where no one existed but the two of them and a wealth of passion.

When they reached her room, she tossed her shoes aside and turned back toward him. With only the soft glow of the nightstand light illuminating them, she met his gaze and silently began unbuttoning his shirt. Needing to taste her, he delved his fingers into her hair and tipped her head back as he lowered his head until their lips meshed and their tongues mated.

Slowly, leisurely, they undressed one another. Clothing fell to the floor in a haphazard mess, until they were both naked. Between soft, soulful kisses, hands wandered, touched and caressed bare flesh, increasing the level of arousal simmering between them. His fingers glided across her breasts, trailed down her belly, and eventually found their way between her supple thighs, where she was so soft and slick and sensitive. He stroked her, and she gasped into his mouth… moaned her approval as he brought her close to orgasm… then she made a small, mewling sound of protest when he stopped short of giving her what her body ached for.

Needing to be inside of her when she climaxed, and wanting to watch her expression as she came for him, he ended the kiss, pushed her down onto the bed, and settled to his knees between her spread legs. He glided his palms down her quivering thighs, and slid the pads of his thumbs through her weeping flesh.

Her hands fisted into the covers, and her hips moved against the feather-light touch of his fingers. "Stop teasing me," she said, half-laughing.

He grinned, loving how playful she could be, even when she was so aroused. As for him, his erection jutted out from his groin, hot and hard, more than ready to give her what she wanted.

"I need a condom," he said, and started to reach toward the nightstand, where she kept a supply.

She grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could pull the drawer open and retrieve one of the foil packets. "Not tonight."

He pulled back and stared down at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm on the pill," she said, and bit on her lower lip with a bit of uncertainty, and a whole lot of vulnerability that told Ben just how much she trusted him. "I know that using a condom is the safe way to go, but I'm good healthwise."

"Me, too," he said, and moved back to the spot between her legs, his gaze taking in the way she was laid out before him, his for the taking. "Are you sure about this?"

She nodded. "More sure than I've been about anything in a very long time. I want to feel you inside of me, all of you, without a condom to take away any of the sensation."

The thought of having all that wet heat wrapped around his cock, with absolutely nothing between them, made him shudder with anticipation, lust, and desire. Crawling up and over her body, he pushed her thighs farther apart as his hips nestled intimately against hers, and the tip of his shaft probed at her damp entrance.

When she realized what he intended, she splayed a hand on his chest to keep him from making that final downward thrust into her. "What are you doing?" she asked, her eyes wide.

He smiled. "I'm making love to you." The words slipped out of him without censor, but they felt more right than wrong.

She appeared startled for a moment because they'd always referred to what was between them as sex, but then she quickly recovered. "No missionary position, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." He dropped a kiss on her nose, then took both of her hands, entwined their fingers, and pinned them next to her head so she couldn't use them at all. So that she'd have no choice but to just feel. "But sometimes, the missionary position can be good," he murmured huskily. "Very good."

Her lashes fell to half-mast, and her body softened beneath his. "Show me," she whispered.

He lowered himself completely over her, aligning them from chest to thighs. His jaw tensed as he slowly slid inside of her, then leisurely pulled out again, until just the head of his penis filled her. He entered her once more, this time all the way to the base of his shaft, and moaned as the slick friction dragging along his bare cock provided the most exquisite sensation-one that threatened to make him come way too quickly if he wasn't careful.

He dropped his head to the crook of her neck, his breath dampening her skin, and for the longest time he didn't move, enjoying the warmth surrounding him.

She squirmed restlessly, impatiently, beneath him, a silent plea for him to move.

"Wrap your legs around my waist. Christy," he rasped into her ear.

She did as he asked, and he groaned when he felt her soft, slender thighs hugging his hips. The intimate position lifted her pelvis higher, allowed for a deeper penetration that made her gasp. He tried to savor everything about being inside of her this way, but the temptation was just too great, and when she arched beneath him so that he rubbed against her clitoris, which heightened her pleasure, he couldn't stop the instinctive need to push harder, deeper. He eased back, almost to the point of withdrawal, then tunneled his way back inside with a purposeful stroke.

Their rhythm was slow at first, and he concentrated on the scent of her hair, the heated vanilla fragrance still clinging to her skin, the feel of her fingers curling tight against his. Anything but the building, pulsing pressure in his groin.

Hungry for the taste of her, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with aggression and greed. God, she was so sweet, he thought. So beautiful, and generous, and responsive. He rolled his hips hard against hers, then plunged faster, then faster still, until she was moaning beneath the crush of his lips and he knew she was close to climaxing.

He lifted his head, and as he continued to drive into her tight, moist flesh, he watched her. Pleasure suffused her expression and she looked up at him through passion-glazed eyes, her lips pink and swollen from his kisses. She sucked in a breath, and her eyes rolled back as her orgasm began rippling through her, the feel of her tensing and fluttering around his cock more than enough to finally push him over the edge.

With a hoarse shout, he came inside of her in a blinding rush of heat that sizzled along his nerve endings. His body shook as his orgasm peaked and then subsided. When it was over, he dropped his head to her shoulder, unable to discount the overwhelming sense of completion washing over him.

"That was good," she said on a breathy sigh. "Very good."

Smiling, he turned his head, and pressed his lips to her hair, her cheek, then kissed her slow and deep. He wanted to hold onto this moment, and her, forever… but knew, and accepted, that it wasn't meant to be.

CHRISTINE was roused from a deep sleep by the violent twitching of Ben's body next to hers, and the awful, guttural sounds coming from the back of his throat. Momentarily confused, she came up on her arm and stared down at him, and when he jerked again and cried out in his sleep, she knew he was in the throes of some kind of nightmare.

She touched his bare chest and found it damp with perspiration. Feeling his heart racing beneath her palm, she gave him a gentle shake. "Ben, wake up," she said, trying not to jostle him too badly.

He awoke with a start, anyway. Eyes wild with terror, he bolted upright in bed, his breathing ragged. His entire body was tense and his fists clenched at his sides, as if he was ready to confront some unknown evil.

She stroked a hand down his back in an attempt to soothe him. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked softly.

It took him a moment to realize where he was, and then he raked a hand through his tousled hair and exhaled a harsh stream of breath. "It was a bad dream. It happens sometimes." He shook his head, as if that gesture would dispel the internal demons still lingering in his mind.

He was trying to remain calm and casual about the entire situation, but she instinctively knew what the dream had been about-something that had happened in the wan most likely pertaining to his fiancée, Kim. And Christine was more than willing to listen if Ben needed to vent and get those bad memories out in the open, instead of keeping them bottled up inside where they could only fester and breed horrific nightmares.

It was nearly seven in the morning on Sunday, almost time for them to get up anyway. "Do you want to talk about it?"

His expression turned grim. "Trust me, those nightmares are something I have to live with, but the details of those dreams aren't something you want to hear about."

"How do you know that?" She wasn't a weak and fragile female who couldn't withstand to hear a few harrowing stones.

"Because the details are shocking, ugly, and vile," he said, an angry, bitter edge to his voice. "And worst of all, what I dream about is real and something I had to live through and will never, ever forget, no matter how hard I try. There's no sense dragging someone else into my own personal hell."

There was so much pain and heartache in his gaze, and it hurt her to see him hurting so much. He was doing his best to push her away emotionally, and she just wasn't going to let him shut her out that way. Hopefully, if he talked about those awful memories, maybe he could begin to heal inside and those nightmares would finally leave him alone.

"What happened to your fiancée. Ben?" she asked softly, persistently.

Sighing heavily, he lay back down on the pillow and draped his arm over his eyes. "Let it go, Christine."

He sounded tired and weary-no doubt tired of carrying so many painful burdens and weary from years of holding it all inside.

"I don't want to let it go." She recalled the picture she'd seen in his apartment of Ben and his fiancée-once very happy and in love. "Tell me about Kim, please?"

When he remained quiet, she tried to think of a way to draw him out, to get him to talk, and decided to start at the beginning. "How did the two of you meet?"

He moved his arm to let one dark brown eye glower at her. "You really aren't going to leave it alone, are you?" he asked gruffly.

She smiled at him, not the least put off by his scowl. She'd learned enough about this man to know that his growl was much worse than his bite. "I'm afraid not, so you might as well start talking."

A deep breath unraveled out of him, and then he spoke. "We met when we were both deployed to Iraq and were stationed at the same Marine base near Fallujah," he said, staring at the ceiling. "We started out as friends, and things progressed from there. We'd planned on getting married as soon as each of our tours in Iraq was over."

Knowing how that had turned out, Christine's heart twisted with anguish for Ben and what he'd endured. "So, she was a Marine, too?"

He nodded. "She was a first lieutenant, and was part of the female search force that was used to pat down the Iraqi women for contraband when they came through checkpoints." Turning his head on the pillow, he met her gaze. "It was a job that had to be handled with sensitivity, and since many Muslim women cover themselves from head to toe to avoid contact with males who aren't close relatives, male Marines aren't allowed to touch them, but they still had to be searched to make sure they weren't concealing any weapons beneath their loose garb."

A small smile touched the corner of his mouth as he remembered, and continued. "She was small compared to a lot of the other female Marines, but Kim was strong and tough when the situation warranted. She dealt with the Iraqi women politely, but firmly, and didn't put up with any shit from anybody."

Christine settled more comfortably beside him on the bed. "You included?" she teased.

"Yeah, me included. She definitely kept me in line, but she was also such a kind and caring person, and as soft as a marshmallow inside. She loved giving candy and school supplies to the Iraqi children we often came into contact with, and she taught the young girls to play hopscotch and recruited us guys to show them how to do double Dutch jump rope. That was not a pretty sight," he said wryly.

She laughed, imagining these big strapping Marines attempting to be light on their feet as they tried to stay in sync with the two turning ropes.

"Anyway, Kim and I came from small towns and shared the same values and similar family situations that bonded us on a deeper level. Her father was an alcoholic that abused her, and she joined the military right after graduating high school as a way to make a better life for herself. And for the time that she was in the military, she did just that."

Christine swallowed hard, trying hard not to think about how big the contrast was between Kim's background and lifestyle, and her own. It reminded her too much of the differences between herself and Ben. "She sounds like a wonderful woman," she said, a bit envious of what the two of them had shared.

"She was my best friend." Shadows of anguish etched his features right before he looked away again. "One night, we were in a convoy of Humvees carrying members of a female search team back to base when we were ambushed. A suicide car bomber drove his vehicle into the second Humvee right in front of ours, which was carrying Kim. The bomb ignited a huge blast that killed the driver and set the vehicle on fire. But that wasn't all. There were about a dozen Iraqi gunmen who joined in on the ambush, too."

His voice had grown thick with excess emotion and he paused, then cleared his throat before continuing. "Kim and the other women in the Humvee immediately jumped out to get away from the fiery explosion, but as she ran toward our vehicle to take cover while we returned fire, she was shot in the back."

As she listened to his story, Christine's chest grew tight with sorrow and she ached deep inside for the pain and loss he'd endured. She knew he wasn't finished, so she remained quiet, waiting for him to go on.

"I saw it all happen, and as soon as she was shot and dropped to the ground, I went after her, right into open fire," he said hoarsely as he relived the harrowing past. "She was so vulnerable and defenseless out there, and I picked her up and ran with her in my arms until we were behind our Humvee while the rest of my unit fought off the gunmen."

He exhaled a shuddering breath and met her gaze again. "I kept telling her to hang on, that she was going to be okay, that I just needed her to hold on until I could get her to a medic. By the time the fight ended, two of the men from my unit, and three of the women, were dead. Including Kim."

The torment and haunting grief in his eyes was a tangible thing. "It should have been me. I should have died that day, not her! I was there in the convoy to protect her, and instead I failed her," he said angrily, then pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, his bitterness and resentment obviously causing him so much inner turmoil. "She didn't deserve to be murdered in cold blood like that and I would have done anything to give my life for hers."

Christine hated that he felt responsible for Kim's death, that four years after the fact he was still blaming himself for what had happened-for not protecting as he'd been trained to do. But she also knew that there was absolutely nothing she could say that would make him feel differently about the situation. It was his burden to bear, until he was ready to let it go on his own.

She blinked and felt a trickle of moisture roll down her cheek. A tear for the woman he'd loved with such devotion, and had lost in such a devastating way. And sadness for the jaded man he'd become deep inside.

He reached out and gently wiped away the wetness on her cheek, his touch lingering on her face. "Not a pretty story, is it?"

"War is never easy or pretty." she whispered, and even though she knew her next words weren't much in the way of easing his internal misery, they were genuine and she felt compelled to say them anyway. "I'm sorry, Ben. So sorry."

"Me, too." Sliding his fingers around to the nape of her neck, he drew her down so that her head was resting on his chest and she was lying next to his warm, hard body once again.

She could hear the heavy beating of his heart against her ear, and she closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around him, and held him close. It was the only thing she could do to offer him a little comfort, to ease his suffering. To let him know that she cared and was there for him.

And then she wondered who was going to soothe her heartache when he was gone.

Chapter Fifteen

THREE weeks with Christine had gone much faster than Ben had anticipated. Tomorrow, Tuesday, voters would decide who they wanted for a new governor-Nathan Delacroix or Charles Lambert-and depending on who won the election, Ben's job as Christine's bodyguard would possibly be over. If Nathan won, he was certain that his assignment would be extended a few extra weeks, just to ensure Christine's safety and to make sure there were no other threats issued against her or Nathan.

Ben shifted on the couch in the reception area of The Big Event as he continued his game of FreeCell while waiting for Christine to finish a phone call so they could leave for the night. He honestly wasn't sure how he felt about the possibility of spending more time with Christine beyond this next week, any more than he knew how he felt about leaving her tomorrow-if that's what happened.

Professionally, she was an assignment and an ESS client, and he'd protect her for as long as necessary because that was his job. But on a personal level, he was torn inside. In such a short span of time things had gotten so intense between them-sexually and emotionally. He'd not only crossed a physical line with this woman when that went against his code of mixing business with pleasure, but somewhere along the way his emotions had gotten all tangled up in the mess, too.

And that was something he never saw coming until it was too late-when he'd bared his soul to Christine, along with his deepest, darkest anguish, and the guilt and remorse that had consumed him since Kim's death. The night that he'd lost Kim was something he never talked about with anyone-the guys he worked with were well aware of what happened that fateful night, but they understood it was an off-limits topic for him-yet he'd trusted Christine with the nightmares that haunted him on a regular basis.

But that wasn't all. While he usually kept any kind of personal discussions with a client to a minimum, those kinds of revealing, intimate conversations with Christine had become a common source of pillow talk with them. They'd talked much too openly about their pasts, their family issues, and shared other painful secrets that had given him a glimpse into who Christine was deep inside-a woman with a huge, generous heart who was finally embracing the independent spirit her mother had spent too many years stifling.

God, he was in way over his head when it came to Christine, and Ben knew he had to take a huge step back emotionally, as well as physically. He'd promised Christine he'd go with her to Envy the night after the election to help her celebrate her twenty-seventh birthday, and he decided that would be it for the two of them. In fact, if she did need extended security, he was seriously considering having Kevin or Jon take over for the duration of the assignment in order to make a clean break, instead of drawing out the inevitable.

The sound of two female voices heading toward the reception area pulled Ben from his thoughts. Madison and Christine came into view as they discussed some details on an upcoming retirement party they'd been commissioned to organize and plan, and as soon as they finished their conversation, Christine set a file folder on the front desk and glanced over at him.

"Are you about ready to go?"

It was nearly five-thirty in the evening, and it wasn't like it would take him very long at all to pack up for the night. It was just a matter of shutting down his laptop, putting it in its case, and grabbing the novel he was nearly done with. "I'm ready when you are."

"I'm good," she said, and unlocked the cabinet where she and Madison kept their purses during the day. "How about you?" Christine asked her assistant.

"I have a few more things to finish up before I leave for the evening," Madison said.

Christine nodded in understanding. "Don't forget to vote before coming into work in the morning," she reminded her friend.

Madison laughed. "Don't worry, I won't. Your father is going to kick Charles Lambert's ass tomorrow."

Christine grinned. "God, I hope so! Someone has to stand up for the underdog, and it's clear that Lambert is chomping at the bit to tear down the neighborhoods on the lower west side so he can build to accommodate and appease a lot of the wealthier residents of Chicago." Her voice rang with disgust.

"They're already saying it's going to be a very close race," Ben chimed in as he stood, his computer case in hand. He had endless time during the day to read through news reports, and everyone was gearing up for the big race tomorrow and speculating on the outcome.

Nodding in agreement, Christine slid the strap of her purse over her shoulder and picked up her briefcase. "Which is why every single vote counts in this election."

They started for the front door, and just before walking out Christine glanced back at Madison. "Lock the door behind us when we leave."

Madison rolled her eyes at Christine's overprotective reminder, which really wasn't necessary since Ben had made it a rule that the door remained securely locked when he wasn't around to look after Madison, too. "Yes, Mom!"

The glass door swung shut behind them, and Madison turned the lock and gave them a quick wave. Car keys in hand, Ben walked with Christine toward his truck, which he'd parked a few stores down from her business after lunch. But before they reached his vehicle. Madison called out to Christine, stopping them both on the sidewalk.

"Christy!" Standing with the door propped open with one hand, Madison lifted a file folder for her to see. "You forgot the contract on the Lewis account that you wanted to take home and review tonight."

"Oh, thanks!" Christine started back toward The Big Event, but Ben stopped her before she could go.

Pressing a button on his remote, he unlocked the truck, which was only a few yards away from where they were standing. "You get into the truck and I'll get the folder for you."

Ben waited and watched as Christine headed to the vehicle, wanting to make sure she was securely inside before going back for the file. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a white car stop in the middle of traffic, causing horns to blare from other irate drivers. Ben glanced in that direction, noting that it was a white BMW coupe seconds before he realized that Jason Forrester was behind the wheel and he was pointing what looked to be an assault rifle out the passenger window directly at Christine.

Son of a bitch! He didn't have time to pull his own concealed weapon. Instead, finely honed military instincts took oven along with a rush of adrenaline, and he dropped his laptop bag and bolted back toward Christine, his only thought to protect her as he yelled, "Christy, get down!"

Oblivious as to what was going on, she turned around with a look of bewilderment on her face, just as Ben heard an eery phftt coming from Jason's car, then another shot. Unable to reach Christine in time, he watched in horror as her body jerked from the impact, and then she glanced down to see two vivid red spots forming on her cream silk blouse-one near her left shoulder, and another on the right side of her abdomen.

Clearly in shock at the realization that she'd been shot, she swayed on her high-heeled shoes, tried to step back, but instead collapsed to the sidewalk, her purse and briefcase scattering around her as she lay there, staring up at the sky with wide, startled eyes.

The squeal of tires told Ben that Jason had taken off, and he dropped to his knees beside Christine to assess the situation, his mind reeling and his chest tightening with the effort to keep his own panic at bay.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God!" Madison said hysterically as she ran up to them. "Is she all right?"

Ben didn't know, and his stomach cramped at the thought of anything happening to Christine. Of losing yet another person he'd come to care for. "Call nine-one-one!" he barked out, trying to shake some sense into Madison. "Get an ambulance here now!"

"Already done!" someone else said from nearby, making Ben vaguely aware that a small crowd was starting to form around Christine on the sidewalk.

"Stay with me, sweetheart. You're going to be just fine." It wasn't a promise he had the right to make, but he refused to think differently.

She glanced up at him with pain-filled eyes, then opened her mouth to speak, but only a croak of sound escaped her.

"Don't talk," he said softly, though his own voice shook with fear. "You've been shot." Twice. But that wasn't something she needed to know or hear at the moment.

Because one of the bullets had hit her so close to the stomach, which could prove to be a life-threatening injury if she bled out, he knew he had to staunch the flow of blood until medical help arrived. With hands that were less than steady, he managed to unbutton her blouse and pull it away from the right side of her waist. He gently ran his fingers over the spot that was covered in bright red blood, searching for a wound… but couldn't find one.

What the hell?

Christine winced and moaned as he probed the welt forming on her skin, assuring him that she had been struck with something. Frowning in confusion, he pulled his hand away and rubbed the thick, sticky substance between his fingers. It didn't feel thin and slick like fresh blood, and as he took a whiff of the wetness on his fingers, he inhaled the distinct chemical scent of paint.

Un-fucking-believable. Jason had shot her with a paintball gun, not a real, authentic assault rifle. The relief that poured through Ben was so profound, he felt a well of emotion rise up into his throat and he dropped his head forward to give himself a private moment to gather his composure. Other than being sore and bruised, she was going to be okay.

He exhaled a deep breath and met Christine's gaze. "Jason shot you with a paintball gun," he said once he was back in control again.

Her eyes flashed with fire and anger, letting Ben know that she really was okay. "It hurts."

"It'll definitely hurt like hell for a while and you'll be bruised in those areas, but there doesn't appear to be any permanent damage. But I'm still going to have you checked out just to make sure." He grabbed her hand and gently pulled her upright. "Come on, let's get you back into your office until the paramedics and police arrive."

He helped her up the rest of the way, wrapped an arm around her waist, and led her back to The Big Event. Madison grabbed Christine's purse and briefcase, along with Ben's computer bag, and just as they stepped back into the reception area, the sound of multiple sirens in the distance grew louder, until an ambulance and two squad cars arrived.

Moments later, the paramedics were hovering over Christine by the couch, taking her vitals and checking the welts on her abdomen and shoulder. Three police officers took Ben aside, and after he explained what had happened, and who had assaulted Christine, two of the policemen went back outside to take statements from the people who'd witnessed the attack.

The officer who'd stayed behind assured Ben that there would be an immediate warrant issued for Jason's arrest. Combined with his recent transgressions against Christine, Ben knew that there would be no chance of bail for Jason this time around, and that he was looking at some serious jail time down the road for this latest attack and for breaking the terms of the restraining order once again.

Knowing that Jason would be behind bars for a while was fine with Ben. Between his blackmail attempts toward Nathan Delacroix and his aggression toward Christine, the man was a menace and a threat and needed some serious help.

Ben was just glad to know that once Jason was arrested, Christine would be safe on her own again.

BUNDLED up in her favorite fleece robe and hands wrapped around a warm mug of chamomile tea, Christine glanced over at Ben, who was sitting in the single chair in her living room, which was too far away from where she sat, as they listened to the evening news speculate on the outcome of tomorrow's election.

Ever since they'd arrived back home after the paramedics had released her and the police had finished questioning her about Jason, Ben had been quiet and even a bit distant. After making a call to her parents to give them the latest news and reassuring them that she truly was okay, she and Ben had eaten dinner, and she'd taken a long, hot shower to help ease the soreness in her shoulder and abdomen where bruises were already forming. Then they'd settled in the living room to watch a few shows together, and any attempt at conversation with Ben resulted in a go-nowhere kind of answer from him.

It was frustrating and aggravating, and she was pretty certain she knew where his isolated mood was stemming from. Now that she was privy to what had happened to Kim, and how Ben blamed himself for not being able to keep her safe, she had a feeling that he was berating himself for letting Jason get close enough to hurt her.

And that mentality of Ben's frustrated the heck out of her. "What happened today wasn't your fault," she said, figuring they were better off getting it all out in the open, instead of letting him stew on it all night long.

He glanced at her, his eyes revealing nothing. "I know that. I didn't pull the trigger on that paintball gun."

There was the slightest edge of sarcasm to his voice, which she didn't appreciate. "Let me rephrase my comment. It wasn't your fault that you weren't able to get me out of the way before Jason shot me."

His jaw clenched. "I'm your bodyguard, Christine. My job is to protect you at all costs. I should have taken both of those shots for you. What if it had been a bullet instead of just paint in that rifle?"

"There are no 'what ifs,' Ben," she said, her annoyance mounting. "It wasn't a bullet. I'm okay. You're good at what you do, but shit happens sometimes."

He had no reply to that. Instead he rubbed at his forehead, looking tired and weary. "The good news is, the police have Jason back in custody, so at least that's one less thing for you to worry about."

She took a sip of her tea, letting it warm her all the way down to her belly. "You really think he was the one behind the threats and blackmail attempts toward my father?"

"He had every motive," Ben said confidently. "He had an irrational grudge against you, and he obviously wanted to ruin your father's chance at winning the election since your dad killed Jason's political career-not that Jason didn't deserve to be ostracized for embezzling campaign funds. Hopefully, they'll nail his ass and he'll be spending enough time in prison to sober him up and make him reassess the direction of his life."

"Yeah, that would be nice," she agreed, and finished off her tea. "By the way, I think I'm going to take it easy tomorrow and work from home after I go out and vote. My shoulder and stomach feel really tender, and I'd rather be here for the day than at the office."

He nodded. "That's a good idea."

Exhausted after the day she'd had, she stood up and took her empty mug to the kitchen, then returned to the living room, switching off lights as she went.

"Are you ready to call it a night?" she asked Ben.

He looked at her, his gaze uncertain, and still way too withdrawn. "I really don't think it's a good idea for us to do anything tonight."

She rolled her eyes. "The last thing on my mind right now is sex," she fibbed, knowing she could be persuaded very easily when it came to Ben. "I want to go to bed andsleep. With you. I promise not to take advantage of you in any way whatsoever, if that's what you're worried about."

That prompted a smile to quirk the corners of his mouth. "Now that's a relief," he teased, a semblance of his old self emerging once again. Standing, he took her hand and led the way back to her bedroom.

Christine was grateful that he'd given in to her request. With their days together numbered, she didn't want to be alone tonight. She wanted to feel the warmth of his body against hers all night long, and wake up cuddled in his arms. She wanted to enjoy all the special intimacies she'd grown used to sharing with him over the course of the past few weeks.

Because too soon, she knew she'd be back to being alone and on her own, and that was something her heart wasn't ready to face just yet.

THE day seemed to fly by in a flash. Between watching news reports on the election, fielding calls from Madison at the office, finalizing details on an upcoming sports banquet she'd been hired to plan and coordinate, and numerous calls from her annoyed mother, six o'clock in the evening arrived much sooner than Christine realized.

After yesterday's incident with Jason, her shoulder and side felt battered and bruised, and it was difficult to lift her arm or twist at the waist without groaning or wincing from the aching pain. She might not have been shot with a real bullet, but Jason had definitely left a lasting impression on her body.

Done working for the day, she shut down her computer and cleaned up her home office, then made her way into the living room where Ben was sitting in the armchair watching the evening news. She glanced at the TV screen, saw the percentages of votes between each candidate, and felt her stomach tumble anxiously. Considering that there was no clear-cut winner yet, she could only imagine how her father was doing at the moment.

"Good Lord, this has become a nail-biting election," she said, and sat down on the side of the couch that was closest to Ben's chair.

"We did our part," Ben replied, and smiled at her. "Now it's up to the rest of the state to vote for the right guy. And that would be your father."

She crossed her fingers and held them up for Ben to see. "Here's hoping."

Ben was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Is everything okay between you and your mother?"

He must have overheard her many conversations with her mother today, not all of them pleasant, unfortunately. "Is it ever?"

Laughter glimmered in his golden brown eyes. "Not from what I've seen."

She settled more comfortably into the corner of the couch, and curled her jean-clad legs up under her. "According to my mother, I'm going to make some man a horrible wife."

He lifted a dark brow. "Why? Because you're not at the campaign office, physically supporting your father?"

"Yes." Boy, he knew her mother better than she'd realized. Then again, she'd shared enough with Ben for him to easily nail Audrey's controlling, demanding personality. "I've talked to my father a few times today, and I sent him some flowers to let him know I'm thinking of him, but my mother insists that I should be there, that we show a united front as a family, especially when my father makes his acceptance speech."

"And?" Ben asked, obviously knowing there was more.

She bit her bottom lip, still unable to believe just how bold she'd been in her response-or how good it had felt to stand up for herself. "I don't think she appreciated me telling her it's her job to stand beside my father and pretend to be the doting wife. I don't need to be there, and considering what happened yesterday with Jason, my father completely understands why I'm not."

"Pretend to be the doting wife?" he repeated, his incredulous tone telling her that he couldn't believe that she'd actually said those exact words.

"Well, it's the truth." she said softly, wishing that things were different between her mother and father-that their marriage was based on love and respect instead of what her father's political career did for her mother's social standing in Chicago. "The voting public might not have a clue, but I know it, she knows it, and my father knows it."

He nodded in understanding, let the topic go, and so did she.

As they continued to watch the news in silence, her stomach rumbled hungrily, reminding her that they needed to eat dinner. "What do you say we order in pizza tonight?" she asked. She wasn't in the mood to cook or leave the house to go to a restaurant.

"Sounds good to me."

She went to the kitchen, looked up the number for pizza delivery, and ordered a pepperoni with extra cheese. As she walked back into the living room, she remembered something she'd meant to tell Ben.

"Craig called earlier to see if I needed a ride to my party at Envy tomorrow night," she said as she sat back down on the couch.

A spark of irritation lit Ben's gaze at the mention of the other man's name. "And what did you tell him?" he asked gruffly.

She wanted to smile at the territorial look in his eyes, as well as point out to Ben that bit of possessiveness he'd just displayed, but knew it wasn't something he wanted to hear when he'd spent the past twenty-four hours trying to establish new boundaries between them that leaned more toward friends than lovers. Still, she couldn't help but harbor a shred of hope that he'd give them a chance beyond this assignment of his.

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and put Ben out of his misery. "I told Craig that you'd be taking me."

Ben smirked. "I'll bet that thrilled the pants off of him."

He'd definitely been disappointed, and had even admitted to her that he'd been secretly hoping that things wouldn't work out with Ben so she'd be free for the birthday bash he'd planned for her. She wasn't quite sure how to take that comment, and had chalked it up to male jealousy on Craig's part. His curt remark was also the deciding factor for her to break as many ties to Craig as possible after tomorrow night. As much as she appreciated his contacts, she didn't need them, and she didn't want to feel obligated to him in any way whatsoever when she knew Craig had feelings for her-feelings that she didn't, and wouldn't ever, reciprocate.

"You know," Ben said casually, drawing her attention back to him. "I still find it odd that Craig is so intent on pursuing you when his father is so in favor of backing Charles Lambert for governor. It just feels like such a conflict of interest to me. Does Craig not share his father's political views, especially on the whole gentrification issue?"

The subject had been brought up between her and Craig, and she knew his thoughts on the matter. "Actually, Craig is in favor of tearing down the lower west side and rebuilding the area, especially since his father's development company would be hired for the project if Lambert wins. But Craig's relationship with his dad has been strained for years because Craig didn't go to work for Crosby's development company, and Craig's been trying to get back into his father's good graces ever since."

Ben shook his head. "Another dysfunctional family saga, huh?"

"Every family has their issues," she said, certain it was true.

Their dinner arrived, and they ate their pizza while watching the election coverage on TV. By nine o'clock that evening it was announced that Charles Lambert had won the election by a 6 percent margin, and would be the new governor of Chicago.

Shocked and disappointed, Christine immediately picked up the phone and called her father, who was doing okay despite the loss. He'd fought a good, fair fight, and that was all he could do.

Then came Nathan Delacroix's concession speech, which was aired on a local channel. He congratulated Lambert on his win, but also promised to continue his fight to help the lower west side of Chicago on other political levels. Audrey stood not by his side, but behind him, clearly unhappy over the loss.

When the news switched over to Charles Lambert's campaign office where his staff was celebrating his victory, Ben stood up and headed down the hallway toward the back rooms. Christine watched him go, an uneasy sense of foreboding settling in the pit of her belly.

Quietly, she followed him and came to a stop in the doorway of the guest bedroom, where Ben had his duffle on the bed and was putting his personal things into the bag. Her heart seemed to lodge in her throat and it took her a moment to speak.

"What are you doing?" she asked, hating the thought of him leaving. Over the past few weeks, he'd become such a daily part of her life-one she'd come to anticipate and enjoy.

"I'm just packing up the bulk of my things," he said, not looking at her.

She watched him pull out a small stack of neatly folded T-shirts from one of the dresser drawers and tuck them into his duffle bag. Then he finally turned around to face her, looking so sexy and gorgeous and closed off that her chest hurt.

"I still have to talk to your father in the morning, but considering that Jason is behind bars, and unfortunately your father just lost the election, I'm sure Nathan will release me from this security assignment and I'll be leaving soon."

There were so many more reasons for him to stay, but she could see by his determined expression, along with the reserved behavior he'd exhibited all day long, that his feelings on the issue were already made up. She'd learned enough about Ben to know that arguing those points with him when he was in such a stubborn frame of mind would be futile.

Knowing she still had tomorrow night with him, for now she let it go. He'd promised to take her to Envy to celebrate her twenty-seventh birthday, and afterward, there was only one gift she wanted from Ben-and she planned to ask for it.

A real relationship.

A future.

His love.

She truly didn't know if any of that was possible for him, but she knew she'd have to tell him the truth tomorrow night. He had her heart. Now, she wanted his.

Forever.

Chapter Sixteen

BEN parked his truck in Christine's driveway at seven the following evening to pick her up for her birthday party at Envy. After talking to Nathan earlier that morning and being relieved of duty as Christine's security agent, he'd headed back to his apartment while she'd gone off to work-on her own and without him as a bodyguard. As it should be. As it would be from now on.

Switching off the engine, he closed his eyes for a moment and released a long, deep breath in hopes of bolstering his fortitude-along with the willpower to keep things between them fun and casual and amicable-and not letting himself cross that line into emotional, intimate territory once again.

It was just a matter of getting through tonight, then bringing Christine back home and putting an end to their relationship, instead of dragging out an unavoidable breakup down the road. Which was why he'd never made her any promises he knew he wouldn't be able to keep. Not only was he unwilling to risk his heart again, they were just too different to make it work for the long haul, their lifestyles so vastly opposite, and he refused to put them both through that kind of emotional upheaval.

With his plan firmly in mind, Ben headed up to the front of Christine's house and knocked on the door. When she answered and he took one look at her alluring, head-turning outfit, he knew he was in for a long night of fighting the urge to touch and caress all that creamy, bared flesh.

She was wearing a bright red, form-fitting cocktail dress with only two thin rhinestone straps holding up the sexy ensemble. While the slinky material clung to her curves, the hem of the dress ended in a flirty bit of ruffle that showcased her toned thighs and long, slender legs. He dared to look down at her feet and had to swallow back a groan when he saw the leopard print high-heeled shoes she'd worn that first night she'd seduced him.

He glanced back up, saw the sinful smile on her lips, and knew she'd deliberately worn those pumps to tempt and tease him and make him think about all the ways he'd taken her while she'd worn those provocative shoes.

Then there were her glossy red lips he ached to taste, the upper swell of her breasts pushed up by the tight bodice of her dress, and all that thick, blond hair of hers that she'd worn down tonight. The silky strands had been curled into soft waves and were tousled into a provocative disarray around her shoulders-once again making him recall how she looked after a night of sex, with her hair all disheveled from his hands and fingers. His groin throbbed at the erotic memories floating through his mind.

"So, what do you think?" She executed a little twirl on her high heels, presenting him with a front and back view of her sexy little dress. "Do I look like the birthday girl?"

He thought she looked gorgeous, classy, and so incredibly sophisticated compared to the casual black jeans and button-down shirt he'd worn. He had no doubt that she would be the most beautiful, sensual woman at Envy tonight, and he had no idea how he was going to keep his hands off of her all evening long.

"I think that I'm going to have to keep a close eye on you tonight," he replied with a grin, keeping things light between them. "You forget that Kevin and Jon are going to be there, and looking as hot as you do, I have no doubt that they'll try to steal you away."

"They can try, but it's not going to happen." Eyes sparkling happily, she splayed her hand on his chest and leaned in to softly, warmly, kiss his lips. "I'm all yours tonight, Ben. I wore this dress and these shoes for you, and you can just imagine what I'm wearing, or not wearing, beneath it all," she said wickedly.

Ben didn't allow his thoughts to travel down that path, because if he did he knew they'd never make it to Envy, and that went against the lecture he'd just given himself in his truck about keeping things platonic, and his hands to himself.

So, instead, he said, "We need to get going so we don't arrive late."

"Arriving late is fashionable. Didn't you know that?" Laughing, she stepped back into the foyer, grabbed a small purse and a sweater that matched her dress, then locked the front door behind her.

Minutes later, they were in his truck, headed toward the night club and the birthday bash Craig had planned for her.

During the drive, Christine kept up a steady stream of conversation. She gave him an update on how her father was doing a day after losing the election, and assured him that Nathan was holding up much better than her mother was. She told him about her day at the office and her lunch with a client. She was clearly happy and excited and ready to celebrate her birthday with him and her friends.

When they arrived, the two of them were ushered to the VIP section of the night club, where the large, private room had been decorated with festive balloons and streamers, fragrant floral arrangements, and a huge banner wishing Christine a happy birthday. Already, a huge crowd of people were milling around, nearly filling the place to capacity.

As they walked inside, Craig came up to them and greeted Christine with a hello and an intimate smile. Ben was lucky enough to get a curt nod of acknowledgment that made it clear that the other man was annoyed that he was still around. Then, without asking, Craig pulled Christine into the center of the room to make an announcement, putting the spotlight on the two of them and leaving Ben standing alone on the sidelines.

"The birthday girl has arrived," Craig announced into a cordless microphone, then cued the band to start playing the happy birthday song.

Everyone sang along, and after the tune ended, a shower of colorful, sparkling confetti rained down on everyone from above, causing the guests to clap and cheer, and the festivities to begin.

Craig pulled Christine into a hug that lasted longer than necessary, and Ben watched from across the room as she stiffened, then put her hand on Craig's chest to push away from him as nicely as possible. It was clear that the other man's embrace made Christine uncomfortable, but she'd handled the situation on her own, and seemingly without offending Craig.

"Who the hell is he?" a deep male voice asked.

Ben had been so intent on keeping an eye on Craig and Christine that he hadn't seen Jon and Kevin walk up to him. It was nice to see a few familiar faces in a huge sea of people he didn't recognize. "That's Craig Crosby. He's the one who's throwing the party for Christine."

Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the other man. "Yeah, well I don't like him."

Ben chuckled at his friend's intuitive reply. "Join the club."

The three of them continued to watch Craig and Christine from afar. Every time she attempted to excuse herself and walk away from Craig, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back, trying to draw her into another round of conversation. As much as Ben wanted to go over to Craig and stake a claim on Christine, it just wasn't his place to do so anymore. As long as Craig wasn't hurting her in any way physically, he'd let her handle the situation on her own.

"Do you want us to take care of him for you?" Kevin asked, sounding like an overprotective brother just itching to pound some flesh. "Rough him up a bit and make sure he understands that Christine is off-limits?"

Unfortunately, that was part of the problem. "She's not off-limits," Ben managed to say. As much as he hated to admit it. Christine was free to see and date whoever she wanted. Even if he didn't like her choice.

Jon slanted him an incredulous look. "Oh, so you don't mind if that slimeball puts his hands all over her?" he asked, doing nothing to disguise the sarcasm in his voice.

Oh. Ben minded all right. More than was prudent or wise. Especially when it came to Craig. "Christine is handling herself just fine."

In fact, she'd finally managed to extricate herself from Craig's grasp and was heading back toward them, that provocative red dress and those leopard print high heels making his gut clench with desire. Her eyes lit up when she saw Jon and Kevin, and she greeted them with a warm, affectionate hug that his friends enjoyed way too much-mainly to provoke him, Ben knew.

"I'm so glad you guys came," she said sincerely. "Where's Zach?"

"He had something else he needed to do tonight," Kevin said vaguely. "But he did tell me to wish you a happy birthday."

Christine smiled. "That was sweet of him."

Ben guessed that Zach had decided not to come to the party because he still wasn't ready to be around the temptation of alcohol that flowed so endlessly at a night club like this one. The man was still struggling with his addictions, and Ben understood and respected Zach's decision.

"Well, well, well," a familiar female voice drawled mockingly. "If it isn't the birthday girl holding court with her own little entourage of hunky males."

Ben turned to see Leanne, who was wearing a pink strapless dress the color of Pepto-Bismol, and was carrying a frothy, froufrou cocktail in the same matching hue. By the glazed look in her eyes, she'd gotten an early start on her drinking and was more than a little buzzed.

"Hi, Ben," she said, giving him a sultry smile before turning her attention to Jon and Kevin. "I don't think we've ever met. Are you tonight's entertainment?"

A comical look passed over Jon's expression. "Excuse me?"

"Strippers," she said, the word slurring ever-so-slightly as she eyed them appreciatively. "You two look like you could be strippers. You should know that I tip really well."

Kevin laughed in amusement. "Honey, I only strip when I really, really like a woman. Not when one pays me to."

"Oh." Not certain what to make of his comment, Leanne scrunched up her nose, took a drink of the pink stuff in her glass, then moved on to someone else she knew.

As soon as the other woman was out of hearing range, Ben looked at Christine. "You invited her?"

"Good God, no!" Christine looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "I'm sure she invited herself. It's fine, as long as she behaves herself and doesn't cause a scene like she did the last time when she dumped her drink on me."

Ben stared after Leanne, watching the way she worked the crowd at Christine's party. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't put it past her, so watch yourself around her."

"Don't worry," Kevin chimed in. "Jon and I will keep Christine so busy out on the dance floor that there won't be an opportunity for anyone to cause a scene but us." He winked at her.

Christine laughed. "I can tell it's going to be a fun night." Her gaze slid to something behind Ben, then she smiled and waved. "There's Madison, Ronnie, and Mark. Let's go join them."

Once they reached the trio, introductions were made for Kevin and Jon. They dragged over a few more chairs, and the seven of them talked and laughed while enjoying the appetizers that were being served. Before long, Craig came up to their group, specifically to Christine, and told her there were some people he wanted her to meet-as in very important contacts for her business.

It was clear to Ben that she really didn't want to go with Craig, but she wasn't one to be rude, and she scooted back her chair and stood. "I'll be right back."

Except she didn't return right away. Ben watched for the next half an hour as Craig monopolized her time, taking her from one person to the next to introduce her, and acting as though he were her date for the evening. Ben kept the two in sight, but now that he was no longer her bodyguard, there was no need to stay glued to her side, and he wasn't going to intrude on what Craig had referred to as "business."

Kevin had no such qualms. "I need a dance partner, and Christy looks like she could use a break from all that business stuff." he said, and headed in her direction.

Seconds later, Kevin was leading Christine toward the dance floor. She looked relieved at the interruption and the chance to enjoy the music, while Craig glared at Kevin in annoyance for stealing Christine away. Leanne came up to Craig, clearly eager to pick up where Christine left off, but Crosby wasn't interested and left her standing there with a pout on her face.

Knowing that he had nothing to worry about with Kevin dancing with Christine, Ben returned his attention to the conversation at the table.

The next few hours passed quickly. When Kevin and Jon weren't keeping Christine busy out on the dance floor, a slew of friends stopped by the table they were sitting at to wish her a happy birthday. Craig managed to pull her away once more to blow out the candles on her birthday cake and to cut the first slice, but she returned right after with a plate holding a large piece of her cake.

Instead of taking the seat next to his, she surprised him by sitting down on his lap, the flirty hem of her dress rising much too high on her thighs. If that wasn't enough to overload his senses and set him on fire, then the way she licked her glossy bottom lip did the trick.

Her eyes widened in mock innocence. "Oops. I forgot a fork."

He recognized that shameless look in her eyes and knew he was in big trouble. After being good all night, Christine was suddenly turning bad. Very bad.

"I guess he'll just have to feed it to you with his fingers," Ronnie suggested, laughter in her voice.

Christine touched her fingers to his cheek, her oh-so-sweet smile concealing a more brazen plan. "You would do that for me, wouldn't you, Ben?"

He hesitated, knowing where something like this could lead. Knowing, too, that she was deliberately taunting him, daring him to give into the desire arching between them. If he wasn't trying so damned hard to keep things platonic tonight, it would have been fun to give in to her request. He was just about to tell her he'd go and get her a fork, but then Jon spoke and changed his mind.

"I'll feed the cake to you, Christy," Jon offered willingly, a gregarious smile on his lips.

"Like hell you will," Ben muttered, just loud enough for his friend to hear, and laugh. Ben decided he could do this and not let it turn into a seductive game between them.

Breaking off a small corner of the cake, he brought it up to Christine's parted lips, and she took the morsel from him, her tongue barely grazing the tips of his fingers. Another piece, and she ate it with delicate little bites in between moaning her appreciation for the taste. She even fed him a small portion of the moist, yellow cake.

The process was all very sweet and chaste… until he reached for a napkin to wipe the frosting off his fingers.

She grabbed his wrist to stop him. "You can't waste the frosting," she said, chastising him. "It's the best part of the cake."

Then she proceeded to lick the sticky buttercream from his fingers. Slowly. Leisurely. Using her tongue to swipe the sweetness from his skin, and her teeth to scrape the confection from the pad of his thumb. By the time she was done, he was grateful that she was sitting on his lap, because her brazen display had made him as hard as stone and he was certain she could feel his erection pressing against her hip.

As if Christine hadn't just turned him inside out with wanting her, she struck up a conversation with her friends, giving his libido time to cool.

The upbeat song that the band was playing came to an end, and a slower melody began to fill the room. "I think we'll wind things down for a little bit," one of the band members said into the microphone as the lights were dimmed. "Let's have the birthday girl pick someone special to dance with during this song, which is titled 'Someone Like You'."

Christine looked down at him, her gaze adoring and filled with an emotion he refused to name. "That special person would be you," she said, and stood, extending her hand toward him.

Ben didn't dance. It just wasn't his thing, which was why he didn't mind when Kevin and Jon had fun with Christine as a partner. But this was different. This was more about a good-bye for him, and he just couldn't pass up the chance to hold her close one last time.

Taking her hand, he led her to the dance floor and pulled her into his arms as the slow song played and the singer's voice crooned the romantic lyrics. He placed a hand at the base of her spine, and she twined her arms around his neck, aligning their bodies so that they were touching intimately from chest to thighs, and igniting sparks of heat with the slightest move they made. She rested her head on his shoulder with her lips grazing his neck, and he pressed his cheek to her soft, fragrant hair. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, memorizing the scent of her skin, the soft, yielding press of her curves against him, and the way she curled into him so trustingly.

Letting her go tonight was going to kill him, even if it was the right thing to do.

After a while, she pulled back and looked into his eyes, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. Her beautiful expression was soft with reverence… and the undeniable glow of love. It was the latter emotion that completely and utterly slayed him. Uncaring of the fact that they were standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor, he lowered his head and kissed her.

One… last… time.

Her lips automatically parted beneath his, so soft and giving, just like the woman herself. Their tongues touched, mated seductively, and he tasted her desire, her escalating need. By the time the kiss ended, she was breathing hard, and he was already withdrawing emotionally, from her and their relationship.

"Take me home, Ben," she whispered, wearing her own heart on her sleeve. "I want to be alone with you."

He swallowed hard, unsure what to say to her but, "Okay," because he would be taking her home.

And then he was going to walk away.

STILL out on the dance floor, Christine could feel Ben pulling back, retreating from all the feelings swirling between them, and knew that tonight she'd be fighting for the one thing she wanted most in her life.

Ben.

She understood the past pain that scarred him and kept him from taking a chance with her. His mother's abandonment. The loss of his fiancée in the most horrific way. The guilt and remorse he'd buried in the deepest recesses of his soul over the fact that he hadn't been able to save Kim from an ambush when it had been his job to protect her. And now, he believed that there was nothing left in his heart to give to another woman.

Christine knew differently.

She knew the fears he harbored. That he believed their background and lifestyles made them too incompatible and they'd never mesh for a long-term relationship. That he'd never be able to live up to certain expectations, and that he'd never have her mother's approval.

As if she cared about any of that.

Christine figured she had enough ammunition to blow every single one of his excuses into smithereens. And as soon as they arrived back at her place, she planned to do just that.

The slow song ended, and she stepped out of his embrace. "I need to use the ladies' room before we go," she said, suddenly realizing just how full her bladder was. "I'll meet you back at the table."

"All right."

He went in one direction, and she headed the opposite way toward the restrooms. By the time she walked back out, her mind was already forming every defense it could to any possible excuse Ben tossed her way. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she nearly collided into Jodie, one of the bar waitresses, who was standing in front of her.

"I'm sorry, Jodie," Christine said, giving the other woman a friendly smile. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Actually, I was waiting for you." The other woman returned Christine's smile with one of her own. "Mr. Crosby said he promised you a bottle of champagne from his private collection for your birthday. He asked me to take you down to the cellar so you can pick out what you'd like."

Earlier, when she'd been with Craig while cutting her cake, he'd told her he wanted to give her a bottle of champagne to celebrate her birthday. At the time, Christine told him that any kind of gift really wasn't necessary, even though he'd insisted. But now that she was leaving with Ben and heading back to her place, the thought of having a bottle of champagne to share with him sounded like a nice idea to compliment her planned seduction.

"The cellar is this way," Jodie said, then led Christine down a private corridor behind the main bar.

They passed a few closed doors, then stopped at the very last one at the end of the hallway. Jodie took a ring of keys from her pocket, unlocked the wooden door, and opened it wide. After switching on a light that illuminated the lower portion of the room, she started down the wooden stairs and Christine followed behind.

As they descended into the cellar, Christine shivered and rubbed her bare arms as cold, refrigerated air cascaded over her skin. "Wow, if I'd known how freezing it was down here. I would have worn my sweater."

Jodie laughed. "I know it's a bit on the chilly side, but we have to keep the cellar set at about fifty-seven degrees to keep the various wines at their peak."

The bar waitress strolled across the surprisingly large room, which looked as though it was a basement that had been recently renovated with hardwood floors, and customized ground-to-ceiling racks that could easily accommodate hundreds of bottles of wine. Most of the cubbyholes were filled, and Jodie came to a stop in front of an area that had been sectioned off from the rest of the room.

"Here is Craig's private collection, and those are the champagnes right over there," she said, pointing a finger in that direction. "He said for you to help yourself to whatever one you'd like. If you want something really nice, I'd say go for the Krug."

"Thanks. I'll take a look and see what he has." Christine wasn't interested in picking the most expensive bottle, just something she and Ben would enjoy.

Jodie shifted anxiously on her feet. "I've got to get back to my drink orders before they pile up, but you can take your time down here. When you leave, just shut the door behind you. It automatically locks from the outside."

"Great. Thanks, Jodie."

Once the other woman was gone, Christine scanned the wooden racks and pulled out a few of the foil-topped bottles to read the labels. After a few minutes of perusing Craig's very expansive collection, and shivering from the cold, she came across a Dom Perignon Rosé. Remembering once having that particular champagne at a wedding and liking the taste, she decided to choose that bottle.

Just as she turned around, she heard the cellar door at the top the stairs close with a soft "click", then slow, steady footsteps coming down the wooden stairs until Craig appeared in the chamber below, looking impeccably dressed in a black suit and crisp white shirt. His hair looked mussed, as though he'd run his fingers through the strands, but it was the eerily calm yet calculated look in his eyes that sparked a sense of unease deep inside her stomach.

"Hey," she said, forcing a cheerful note to her voice and acting as though nothing was wrong. "I just finished picking a bottle of champagne and was coming back up to thank you."

With his hands tucked into the front pockets of his dress pants, he slowly, gradually, strolled toward her, a wholly sexual smile curving the corners of his mouth. "You can thank me just as well down here." His dark gaze raked down the length of her, not bothering to disguise the fact that he wanted her.

His meaning was clear, and as frantic as her heart was beating beneath her breast, she refused to panic or allow him to get the upper hand in the situation if she could help it. She had to get out of there and away from him, pronto.

"It's a bit cold in here, and the party is upstairs." She smiled and visibly shivered for effect. "How about we take this champagne with us and celebrate where it's nice and warm and my teeth aren't chattering?"

She moved to the right to go around him and bolt for the stairs, but he countered the move and blocked the way with his body.

His stare turned hot and predatory. "I thought we could have our own private party down here in the cellar, where it's nice and quiet and we can be all by ourselves."

Oh, God. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. She hugged the chilled champagne to her chest, her fingers gripping the neck just in case she had to use the bottle as a weapon. It was the only protection she had.

"I really need to go, Craig," she said, asserting a firm, confident tone to her voice, despite the fear nearly strangling her. "Ben is waiting for me."

As he moved even closer, he casually ran his finger along a rack holding bottles of wine. "Well, he can wait a bit longer, now can't he?"

Christine lifted her chin, wishing she was taller. Craig was a big, substantial man, and as he neared, he made her feel too damned small and vulnerable, which she hated. Finally, Craig stopped, leaving only a few feet between the two of them. Behind her was a rack of wines, and in front of her, much too far away, were the stairs leading to her freedom. She knew she had to distract him in order to get there.

"Ben will come looking for me if I don't get back to him," she said, knowing it was true.

"He can look for you all he wants, but the cellar door is locked from the outside, and he doesn't have a key." He smiled in a way that made her skin crawl. "According to Jodie, nobody knows you're down here but her, and me, and I made sure she's much too busy to bother us."

Then that meant she was on her own, and she figured the direct approach was all she had left in her favor. "But that doesn't stop me from leaving."

Curling her fingers even more tightly around the neck of the bottle, she stepped around him and headed for the stairs, but he grabbed her upper arm to stop her. Just as he pulled her back around, she swung the bottle of champagne at his head.

He saw it coming and ducked, then came back up just as she aimed it at his head from the other direction. He caught her wrist before the bottle could connect with the side of his face and squeezed tight, until the crushing pain he exerted was too unbearable and she dropped the champagne. The bottle crashed to the floor, exploding in a spray of bubbly liquid and shards of glass that pricked and cut at her bare legs.

He shoved her against a nearby wall, so hard that her head hit the concrete surface and she swore she saw stars. When her vision came back into focus, she realized that he'd braced his hands on either side of her shoulders and had wedged a thigh between hers to keep her trapped against the wall and his body. His face was right in front of hers, and he looked pissed.

His jaw clenched tight, and anger flashed in his eyes. "That was a very expensive bottle of champagne."

If he expected her to apologize, he had another thing coming. "Go to hell," she hissed.

She struggled against him to get away, aiming her nails at his face and eyes, but he was so much stronger than she was, and he managed to subdue her much too easily. He caught both of her hands in one of his, then reached toward a nearby shelf and grabbed a long, thin piece of rope he must have left there earlier. He yanked her arms behind her back and within seconds had the rope wrapped around her wrists and her hands tightly secured.

He was breathing hard by the time he was done, a quiet kind of fury brewing within him. "You really shouldn't be so rude and unappreciative, Christine." He pressed her up against the wall once again, then framed her jaw with one of his big hands so that she couldn't move her head at all, making her all too aware of just how truly helpless she was. "I planned this little surprise birthday party down here just tor you and me, and you're not going anywhere until we're done celebrating. So, you might as well relax and enjoy yourself."

She shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the chill in the air, and everything to do with what his words implied. "If you don't let me go, I'll scream so loud your eardrums will break."

He laughed, the sound arrogant. "You go right ahead. It won't do you much good. Between the cellar being soundproof, and how loud it is upstairs with the band playing, you can scream all you want and no one will hear you." The pressure of his hand on her face eased as he trailed his fingers down her chest to the slope of her breasts. "In fact, I'm fairly certain that by the time I'm done with you, your throat will be raw from screaming."

Bile seemed to fill her mouth. "You're sick."

Her words didn't affect him at all. He was too caught up in his own madness to care. "I've waited patiently for you to come around. For months, I dealt with your rejections. For weeks, I've watched you with Ben, waiting for you to tire of him and come to your senses about me." His voice rose with anger. "I'm tired of waiting, Christy. I'm tired of you fucking another guy and being a whore when you should be mine." In his rage, he grabbed one of the thin rhinestone straps holding up her dress and yanked it hard, ripping it off and sending those small crystals bouncing to the floor.

Terror spiked through her. She could see what was coming, knew that if she didn't keep him talking and distracted that he was going to rape her. Or worse. "Why are you doing this, Craig?" she asked, her calm question belying the fear clawing inside her. "I thought we were friends."

"Friends?" His voice rose incredulously as he pushed away from her, his expression filled with disgust. "You used me, Christy. I've helped you with your business and given you contacts. I was there for you after your nasty breakup with Jason, ready and willing to be the man you needed in your life. But all you did was take and take and take, then discard me like a piece of trash when you no longer needed me."

His bitter words broadsided her, and she suspected that they stemmed from a whole lot more than just her. She was most likely just the catalyst that had sent him over the edge. "You know that's not true," she said, trying to reason with him. "I've appreciated everything you've done for me."

He reached out and caressed the backs of his fingers along her cheek, and she tried not to cringe in revulsion at his touch. "Maybe you'd like to show me just how appreciative you are."

She desperately tried to wrack her brain for some kind of stall tactic. "Not here."

"We're not going anywhere else. We're going to stay right here until I'm done with you." That depraved light in his gaze shone brighter. "Until I've used you the way you've used me. Do you know how long I've waited to get you alone and have you all to myself like this?"

She shook her head. "How long?"

"Months." His mouth twisted with rancor. "A few weeks ago I had you alone in my office, half-naked in my private bathroom. If it hadn't been for Ben, you would have been mine then. Then, I tried to get you alone the night of the charity event. God, I was so close, too. You were drugged and you were so willing to do whatever I wanted."

Thank God Ben had come to her rescue. "What else?" she asked, needing to know everything.

"Those snakes you received in the mail? I sent them to you." He looked very pleased with himself. "I had it timed for me to arrive when you opened your mail that day. I sat out in my car and watched through the windows of your business as you took the package to your office. I was going to walk inside The Big Event as you opened the box and discovered the snakes." His expression turned irate. "I was supposed to be the one you ran to for protection. I was the one who was supposed to save you, but Ben was there. Always Ben!"

Christine couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Nobody appreciates what I do," Craig ranted angrily as he paced in front of her. "Not you. Not my family. Not even my father! I'm the one who helped Charles Lambert win the election so that my father's development company could get the contract to rebuild the lower west side. I'm the one who sent those threats to your father to drop out of the race so Lambert and my father would benefit from all the extra income that new development would generate. But nobody appreciated what I tried to do. Especially not my father. Instead, he told me I was an idiot for doing something so stupid." His rage over his father's slur was tangible.

Christine had to agree with Jonathan Crosby about his son's state of mind, but there was one thing that didn't make sense to her. "But my father didn't drop out of the race."

"I know." Craig shook his head in mock sadness. "And I did warn him that if he didn't step down that he'd lose what was most precious to him. And here you are now."

His smile was pure evil.

"You don't want to do this, Craig," she said, doing and saying whatever it took to change his mind. Because right now, she had no leverage other than her words that could save her.

"I'm so tired of everyone taking and taking and taking from me," he said spitefully. "Now I'm going to take what I want, and nobody is going to stop me. Not even your precious Ben. Tonight, you're all mine."

"I'll never be yours, Craig," she said, her voice strong and sure in her conviction. "I love Ben, and nothing you do to me will ever change that."

"Shut up!" he yelled, then backhanded her across the face, the force of it causing her head to snap to the side. "Shut the fuck up!"

He knotted her hair in his fist, yanked back her head, and brought his mouth down on hers. She fought the kiss, the invasion of his tongue, refusing to give even a small part of herself to him. And that only infuriated him more.

His hands pulled at her dress and groped her, making her physically ill at the thought of what was about to happen down here in this isolated, secluded cellar. With her hands tied behind her back, struggling against him was futile. All she could do was close her eyes, detach herself from the situation, and pray that it was over quickly.

Chapter Seventeen

BEN glanced at his watch for the fifth time in so many minutes. It had been nearly twenty minutes since Christine told him she needed to go to the ladies' room, and he was still waiting on her. He shifted restlessly in his seat and glanced back in the direction of the ladies' room, but still, nothing.

"You know how women can be when they go to the restroom," Kevin said, obviously sensing his impatience. "She's probably fussing with her hair and makeup."

Primping just wasn't Christine's thing. Sure, she always looked like a million bucks, but she wasn't one to spend a whole lot of time in front of a mirror. Something just wasn't settling right with him.

"Either that, or one of the guests waylaid her to wish her a happy birthday," Ronnie suggested.

"Could be." He knew it was possible that she'd gotten sidetracked, but something was gnawing at those instincts within him, and he wasn't about to ignore them. "I'm going to go to look for her."

He strolled back toward the restrooms and glanced around the general area. He circled the dance floor and then into the main bar area to check there, too. Still, there was no sign of Christine, and he blew out a frustrated stream of breath in order to keep his growing anxiety at bay.

One of the bar waitresses passed by him with a tray full of drinks. He recognized the woman as Jodie, who'd delivered cocktails to their table a few times tonight. Pretty much everyone at Envy thought that he was Christine's boyfriend, and he used that to his advantage now.

He stopped the young woman, who looked up at him with a harried smile. "Hi, Jodie. Have you seen Christine?" he asked hopefully.

"Actually, yes I have," she replied. "Mr. Crosby had me take her down to the wine cellar to pick out a bottle of champagne for her birthday. That was a while ago, so I can't imagine that she'd still be there, though."

Just the mention of Craig's name had Ben's stomach twisting into huge, gigantic knots. "Was Craig with her?"

"Not when I left her there, though I did see Craig go in that direction soon after, probably to help her pick out one of the champagne's from his private collection."

It was clear to Ben that Jodie was oblivious to Craig's nefarious side. "Look, I need you to take me to wherever the wine cellar is."

"Can it wait a few minutes?" She indicated her tray, brimming with bottles of beers and other cocktails. "I've got to get this drink order delivered."

"No, it can't." Ben didn't have a few minutes to wait, or to waste. "I need you to take me there, now," he said urgently. "Christy might be in trouble."

A startled look passed over Jodie's features, but thankfully she didn't argue, or try to assure him that Christine was okay. Instead, she caught the attention of another bar waitress and asked the other woman to deliver the drinks for her. Then she led the way down a private corridor behind the main bar. They came to a stop at the last door at the end of the hallway.

"Here's the cellar. I left the door open. I really do doubt they're here." she said, even as she fished a key ring from her front apron pocket. "But if it makes you feel better, we can double-check to be sure."

"Thanks." Ben wasn't going anywhere until he knew for certain that Christine wasn't down in that cellar.

She unlocked the door, and as soon as it opened Ben heard a woman's muffled attempt at yelling, some scuffling, then Craig spoke.

"Who's up there?" he demanded harshly, making Ben realize that he couldn't see all the way up the stairs to the door, which worked to his advantage.

Jodie was staring at Ben with wide, startled eyes. Apparently, she had come to the realization that Craig had set her up to get Christine down in the cellar alone. Ben nodded his head, indicating for her to reply.

"It's Jodie, Mr. Crosby," she said, her voice steady despite the look of dismay on her face. "Is Christine down there with you?"

"No, she's not," Craig replied in a crisp tone, and again there was another noise that sounded like he was trying to restrain or subdue someone. "She left a while ago. Now, I'd like some privacy down here and I don't want to be bothered or interrupted. Make sure everyone upstairs knows that."

"Yes, Mr. Crosby."

Jodie drew the door closed, but left it so that it didn't shut tightly and Ben could easily push it back open. When she glanced back at him, her panic increased when she saw that he'd withdrawn the gun he'd had concealed.

"Oh, my God," she whispered as tears welled in her eyes. "I honestly had no idea Mr. Crosby would do something like this."

Ben just prayed that the other man hadn't hurt Christine in any way, because if he had, then Ben wouldn't be responsible for his actions. A slow, painful death wouldn't be near good enough for Craig.

"Look, I'm a security agent," he said in a low voice, trying to keep Jodie calm so that she wouldn't go into hysterics, even as his own heart was beating frantically in his chest. "I need you to go to call the police. Tell them that there's a hostage situation at Envy, and you need them here immediately."

She nodded in understanding, then headed back out to the main area. Ben waited until she was gone, then inhaled a deep, steady breath before quietly nudging the door back open again, his weapon poised and ready. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to just rush in, guns blazing, but he didn't know what the situation was like, or if Craig was armed. So, he cautiously made his way down the stairs, his entire body tensing at the sound of Christine pleading with Craig to stop whatever he was doing to her.

Another step, and they came into view. Rage surged through Ben at the sickening sight of Craig's face buried against Christine neck, and his hands in places they had no business being. Craig's back was to Ben, so he couldn't shoot the other man because there was too great of a chance that the bullet would go straight through him to Christine, who he had pinned against the wall.

He knew the exact moment that Christine saw him. Her eyes grew round, but she didn't say a word to give his presence away. Her hands looked as though they'd been restrained behind her back, rendering her helpless when it came to Craig's superior strength. She struggled against him, even tried to kick him, but it did her no good.

Silently, he made his way down the rest of the stairs, his gun trained on Craig's back, right in the vicinity of his heart. He still didn't know if he had any kind of weapon, and that was the only thing that kept Ben from not charging over to the other man and ripping him away from Christine-then beating the living shit out of him.

"Let her go, Crosby," Ben demanded.

Craig moved quicker than Ben anticipated. He spun around, and at the same time he pulled Christine around too, so that she was standing in front of him like a human shield. Then he wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her secured in place.

As far as Ben could see, Craig didn't have a weapon, but now Christine was in his direct line of fire. Her expression was terrified, and he noticed that the side of her face near her eye was red and puffy, and the straps of her dress had been torn off. Other than Craig putting his hands all over Christine, it appeared she was okay and unharmed. Thank God.

"Ahhh, your knight in shining armor has arrived," Craig drawled sarcastically, his face nestled close to Christine's cheek. "Just in the nick of time, as always." Then his eyes narrowed into menacing slits as he glared at Ben. "God, I hate you!" he spat venomously. "Everything was going my way until you came along, stole Christy away, and screwed everything up!"

The man was obviously a mental case, and Ben treaded lightly so that he didn't do or say something to send Craig over the edge. "It's over Craig. Let her go."

"It's not over until I say it's over!" he yelled like a crazed man. Then he bent down, pulling Christine with him, and reached for something on the floor. When he straightened again, he held a sharp piece of broken glass in his hand. He touched the serrated edge to her cheek and pressed just enough to make Christine whimper from the sting of pain.

"Put your gun down," Craig ordered, and dragged the blade down to the pulse beating in Christine's throat.

Despite the threat, Ben refused to release the gun-it was the only leverage he had in this power play between them and he wasn't about to put Christine in such a vulnerable position. He refused to let anything bad happen to her, knowing he'd never be able to live with himself if Craig harmed her in any way.

Images of Kim in Iraq during the ambush flashed in his head. In his mind's eye he saw her getting shot, then dying in his arms all over again. His throat started to close up with guilt, and he swallowed it back. He couldn't change the past or bring Kim back, but he was determined that his situation with Christine would end much differently… if only he could get a clear shot at Craig.

Ben looked into Christine's eyes, seeing the fear there, but also a strength and fortitude that made him proud, as well as an innate faith in his ability to defend her, to protect and save her. She believed in him, trusted in him, and it was those undiluted emotions that were nearly his undoing.

But then she closed her eyes and he watched her relax just the slightest bit, just enough to let him know without words what she was about to do-give him the clearance he needed to take Craig down.

In the meantime, Ben tried to reason with Craig until the opportunity presented itself. "Look, you let her go, and you can walk a free man," he lied, knowing he would do everything within his power to make sure that Craig spent decades behind bars, where he belonged. "There's no reason to hurt Christine."

"I'm not giving her up! She's mine," Craig ranted furiously. "And if I can't have her, no one will. Especially not you!"

During Craig's bitter outburst, he waved the sharp piece of glass in the air, using it to punctuate the resentment and vehemence of his words and leaving Christine free to complete her maneuver. In that unguarded moment, she unexpectedly went limp in Craig's arms, dropping like a lead weight and throwing him off balance-mentally and physically. She slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor, and as soon as she was out of the way, and before Craig could comprehend what had just happened, Ben pulled the trigger and shot the other man in the left shoulder.

Craig dropped the shard of glass in his hand and howled in pain as the bullet penetrated flesh and bone. Christine scrambled away the best she could with her hands tied behind her back, and when Craig took a step toward her once again, Ben stopped him cold before he could touch her.

"That was just a warning shot, asshole," Ben said, keeping his gun aimed high and pointed right between Craig's eyes. "You go anywhere near Christine before the cops arrive and I'll blow your fucking head off." And he meant it, too.

Obviously not wanting to test Ben's threat, Craig pressed a hand over his wound and slid along the wall to the floor, a defeated, broken man.

IT was nearly two hours later before Christine could finally go home. Soon after Ben shot Craig the police arrived and took him into custody. Statements had to be taken, reports had to be filled out, and because the cops had piqued the curiosity of her friends, she stopped to explain what had happened, and assure them that she was okay.

As soon as she and Ben arrived back at her house, she asked him to wait while she took a shower and changed into something more comfortable. Her legs were sticky from the champagne she'd dropped, and she had a few minor cuts from the shattered glass that she needed to wash. Overall, she just wanted to scrub away the overwhelming unpleasantness of the entire night and start out fresh and clean with Ben.

She no longer needed a bodyguard or a pretend boyfriend. What she wanted now with Ben was the real deal and something she'd never had with any other man before him. A best friend she loved spending time with and could confide her deepest secrets to, knowing they'd be safe with him. A generous lover who complemented her on so many sexual, intimate levels. A committed relationship based on love, respect, and trust.

But it was clear as she walked back into the kitchen and saw his businesslike stance against the far counter, and the impassive look in his eyes, that he'd already retreated from her and any of the feelings that had taken root and blossomed between them in their time together. This distant man in front of her with his emotional walls erected sky-high was not the warm, attentive, accessible man she'd just spent the past three weeks with. Instead, this was a man who was running scared and refused to face his past in order to have a future… with her.

Still, she was determined that he wasn't going to leave tonight without her giving him the two things he needed most in his life-her heart and her unconditional love. Whether he accepted her gift or not was entirely up to him.

With that in mind, she walked toward him and stopped a few feet away. She'd put on a pair of old sweatpants and an equally ancient pullover hoodie for warmth. Her hair was still damp and she'd washed all her makeup off her face in the shower. All traces of the sophisticated woman he was used to seeing were gone, and in her place was the person she was beneath all the exterior trappings: a plain and simple girl who ached to be loved and cared for by this man.

His gaze roamed over her face and came to a stop on the swollen, bluish-purple mark on the right side of her cheek where Craig had hit her, which would eventually match the bruises still on her shoulder and stomach, courtesy of Jason.

Ben gave her a lopsided grin, but didn't reach out and touch her as she wished he would. "What is it about you that turns men into psychopaths?" he teased, obviously trying to keep things light and easy between them.

"Must be my sparkling personality," she said with equal amounts of humor. "But don't worry, as far as I know, there's no more jilted men lurking out there."

"Good thing." His expression turned much too serious. "Are you going to be okay?"

Physically, she knew she'd heal. Emotionally, though, she had a feeling that it was going to take her a very long time to recover from the pain tightening like a vise around her heart.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "It'll take more than a shiner or a couple of shots with a paintball gun to do me in. I'm not all fluff, you know."

A low, rough rumble of laughter escaped him. "Yeah, you're one tough cookie."

She realized how strong she'd become over the past few weeks-internally and mentally-and knew she had Ben and his support and encouragement to thank for a lot of her transformation. "I guess I'm just done with letting people walk all over me. I've had enough and I'm not taking it anymore," she said playfully.

He didn't smile as she'd expected him to. "It's a good mentality to have." He paused, and she knew what was coming even before the words left his mouth. "I should go."

She crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring his stubborn attitude. "What if I want you to stay?"

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "Another night together isn't going to make ending this any easier."

She shook her head, wondering if he was being deliberately obtuse to avoid the real underlying issues between them. If so, she was about to put everything out there so there would be no mistaking what she wanted, or how she felt about him.

"The thing is, I don't want just one last night with you, Ben. I want, and need, a whole lot more."

"That's part of the problem, Christine," he said gruffly, his eyes flashing with gold flecks of anger. "I just don't have it in me to give you everything you need and deserve. You've known that all along."

Yes, he'd made it abundantly clear that he didn't fit into her life, and that his emotions had been stripped raw from past experiences, but she just didn't believe that he was dead inside, that he didn't have the ability to care for another woman, because she'd seen and felt evidence to the contrary.

"I love you, Ben," she said, risking it all for him. "With all my heart, with all my soul, with everything I am." She swallowed hard, hating that dark look of denial pinching his gorgeous features. "And whether you can admit it to yourself, or not, I know you feel something for me, too."

He groaned, sounding like a man who'd been mortally wounded. "I can't do this again, Christine."

Okay, that hurt-that she didn't mean enough to him for him to take a chance, that she wasn't worth the risk to his already battered heart. It also made her angry enough to confront him with what she knew to be true.

"You haven't said the words, but I know you love me, too," she said ruthlessly. "I've seen the emotion in your eyes. I felt it with every fiber of my being the night you told me that we were making love."

He took a step toward her. "Christine-"

She held up a hand to keep him at a distance. "Don't say anything. I don't what to hear you deny the truth, to me or yourself. I know what's real and true. You obviously don't and I can't force you to see or feel something that you won't allow to touch your heart or emotions."

He released a harsh stream of breath and looked away.

But she wasn't done with him just yet. Her throat filled with frustrated tears, and she swallowed them back, refusing to let them fall free in front of Ben. There would be plenty of time for crying later, when she was alone.

"After my mother's controlling influence, then everything that happened with Jason, I thought what I wanted was freedom and independence and being on my own for a good long while," she told him, knowing he was listening even if he wasn't looking at her. "But you know what? I realized during these past few weeks of being with you that it's a matter of finding the right man who completes me in ways that no other person ever has. A man I can talk to about anything, and trust with the most private aspects of my life, and my past. A man who makes me feel sexy, and desirable, and has shown me that I'm fully capable of experiencing and enjoying passion and lust and the kind of intense pleasure I'd only fantasized about."

Finally, she reached out and touched him, because that physical connection was absolutely necessary. Caressing her fingertips along his jaw, she turned his head back toward her so he was forced to meet her gaze again. "If you don't already know, that man is you, Ben. You're everything I want and need in my life, and if you're ever ready to stop using your past and the guilt you've allowed to consume you as an excuse to deny your true feelings for me, you know where I am and how to find me."

She took a step back, then another, feeling the chasm between them growing ever wider in so many ways. "You can let yourself out," she said, then turned and headed back to her bedroom, knowing she wouldn't be able to bear watching him walk out of her life for the final time.

"THOSE of us guys who aren't wearing a ball and chain like Joel are heading over to Nick's Sports Bar for some beer and a few games of pool," Kevin said to Ben after his playful dig to the newly married partner at Elite Security Specialists. "Care to join us for a round or two?"

"Hey, don't knock it until you've tried it," Joel said in defense of what he'd referred to as wedded bliss since returning from his honeymoon a few days ago. "There's something to be said about going home every night to a woman who loves and adores you." He grinned like the besotted fool that he was.

Kevin rolled his eyes as he pushed away from the conference table and stood. "Okay. Whatever. That whole one-woman thing just isn't for me."

"Hey, to each his own," Joel said in understanding, since he'd felt the same way not too long ago. "But being in love with the right woman and having a wife does tend to change a guy's priorities."

"Gawd, it's getting sickeningly sweet in here," Kevin said with an exaggerated shudder, then glanced at Ben. "You in or you out, Cabrera?"

Ben shook his head as he picked up a file folder that held the details of his next assignment. "Sorry, I won't be able to make it," he said brusquely.

Kevin jammed his hands on his hips impatiently. "Okay, look, we've got Joel who has his head in the clouds, which I can understand considering he just spent the past week getting laid on a regular basis, and then there's you, the exact opposite. Ever since the Delacroix case ended, you've been one moody son of a bitch."

Ben's lips tightened in annoyance. "For your information, I have an appointment with Nathan Delacroix in about an hour, not that I owe you an explanation for not wanting to go and hang out with you guys at a singles' bar."

Kevin held his hands up in a sign of backing off, his expression contrite for pushing Ben a bit too far. "Okay, you go and tend to business. If you change your mind and want to join Jon, Zach and I, you know where to find us."

Once Kevin left with Jon and Zach. Ben walked out of the ESS offices with Joel. Before they parted ways to their different vehicles, Joel stopped and faced Ben, his features filled with concern.

"Seriously, are you okay?" Joel asked. "I hate to admit it, but Kevin's right. You haven't been yourself."

Ben sighed and rubbed at the constant ache in his temples. "It'll pass."

Joel eyed him with too much foresight. "You sure about that?"

Honestly, Ben wasn't sure about anything anymore. He'd spent the past week and a half trying to bury himself in work in an attempt to forget about everything that had transpired between them that last night. All the things she'd said to him before he'd walked out of her house-the hope shining in her blue eyes when she'd told him she loved him, and how well she knew what was in his heart and soul when he didn't even know himself anymore.

He truly believed that ending their relationship had been the right thing to do-that Christine deserved a man who was whole in every way, and one that didn't come with the kind of excess emotional baggage such as guilt and regrets that would keep him from giving her everything she needed in her life. Instead, leaving her behind had only increased the awful, desolate, empty feeling deep inside of him.

"You gotta let it go, Ben," Joel said quietly, pulling him from his internal thoughts.

"What are you talking about?" Ben asked gruffly, even though he knew exactly where this conversation was heading.

"I'm talking about what happened to Kim," Joel said bluntly, reading him much too well. "It wasn't your fault, man. You gotta believe that, and you have to stop blaming yourself for her death or it's going to eat you alive and make the rest of your life miserable and lonely as hell."

Ben looked away, because he was beginning to suspect that was true.

"We all went through shit in Iraq, and we all handled the fallout in our own way," Joel went on ruthlessly, as only a good friend could do. "Just don't let it stop you from going after the best thing that has come into your life in a very long time. And that would be Christine Delacroix."

"What do you know about it?" Ben asked, wondering how Joel had come to such an insightful conclusion.

Joel grinned. "It was so obvious not only to me, but to Lora, that you have feelings for Christine. We saw you at the wedding together, and Lora commented on the way you watched Christine the entire night. She told me she recognized that look of longing in your eyes, because she'd seen the same thing with me-wanting something, but believing you didn't deserve it."

Ben shook his head, unable to hide the smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Lora's a smart woman."

"They all are, Ben." Joel slapped him on the back, sharing a moment of comradery. "And trust me, I've learned that they usually know what's best for us, even when we don't have a clue. You can't change the past, or the horrors we endured in the war. We all know that because we each lived through our own personal nightmares in Iraq and we've dealt with it in our own ways. But there's no reason why you can't live life to the fullest now. And let me tell you, living life with a good woman, the right woman, has a way of making the past not so painful and difficult."

"You're a lucky man," Ben said, knowing it was true.

"You would be, too, if you'd just stop denying the truth." Joel's direct gaze spoke volumes. "What you feel for Christine is real. It's the present and your future. Don't be an ass and turn your back on a woman who loves you the way she obviously does, or else you'll regret it for the rest of your miserable life."

Ben took his friend's advice to heart. "Thanks. Joel."

"Hey, I'm just returning the favor," he said, reminding Ben of how he'd done the same thing for him not too long ago. "I've been there, so I completely understand that sometimes it takes someone else kicking you in the ass to make you realize what an idiot you're being."

"Gee, thanks." Ben grinned, then glanced at his watch. "I've got to get going. Delacroix is waiting on me."

"What's going on?" Joel asked curiously. "I thought that case was wrapped up and closed."

"As far as I know, it is. All he said was that he wanted to talk to me about certain aspects of the case that he didn't quite understand."

"That's odd." Joel frowned, looking just as confused as Ben felt about the call he'd received earlier from Nathan. "I can't imagine what's left to discuss."

"Me, neither." Ben shrugged. "I'm sure he just has a few questions about the night of Craig's arrest."

"Probably," Joel agreed, then shifted anxiously on his feet. "Now, every minute I waste here with you is a minute less I have with Lora. I'm outta here."

Ben grinned as he walked to his truck, a part of him envying what Joel had with Lora. Yet he knew if he took a chance on Christine, he could have the same exact thing. He spent the drive to Nathan Delacroix's house recalling everything she'd said to him on that last night with her-and mulling over Joel's advice today, too. By the time he arrived at Nathan's and rang the doorbell that echoed throughout the massive home, Ben felt a glimmer of optimism that maybe things could work between him and Christine… until Maggie let him inside the house and he was slapped with an in-your-face reminder of how the Delacroixs lived, along with the realization of what Christine was, and everything Ben was not-classy, refined, and well-bred.

"Hi, Mr. Cabrera," Maggie said, greeting him with a genuine smile. "It's nice to see you again."

"You, too, Maggie. I'm here to see Mr. Delacroix."

Maggie nodded. "He's waiting for you in his office."

Even though Ben knew where Nathan's office was located, Maggie led the way, and as Ben walked through the huge house that was decorated with such lavish elegance, those doubts and insecurities settled deep in his gut, chasing away the confidence that Joel had just instilled in him, making him wonder if he could ever really mesh into Christine's life. Or would he be an outcast and scorned by her mother at every opportunity for not being good enough for her daughter?

Maggie opened the door to Nathan's office, and Ben stepped inside, greeting the other man with a firm handshake and friendly hello. For someone who'd just lost the election for governor, Nathan looked more casual and relaxed than Ben could ever remember seeing him, and oddly enough, content, too.

Nathan waved a hand toward one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat, Ben."

He did as the other man asked, and as soon as he was settled in the chair. Ben jumped right into business. "You wanted to discuss the case with me?"

"I did." Nathan leaned back in his chair, his gaze candid and direct. "I'd like you to tell me what, exactly, happened to Christine. She hasn't been the same since you left."

That bit of information took Ben by surprise. "You know everything that happened. It was all in the report. Is she not doing okay?"

Nathan steepled his hands in front of him, his expression reflecting his concern. "No, and quite frankly, I'm worried about her."

Unease rippled through Ben at the thought of Christine having some kind of delayed reaction to what had happened to her, first with Jason, then with Craig. "What's wrong with her?"

"Actually, I was hoping you'd be able to tell me."

Ben shook his head in confusion. "I have no idea. I haven't spoken to her since that last night with Craig."

Nathan digested that, then said, "I'm thinking that's part of the problem."

Ben frowned. This conversation made no real sense to him, and even though he knew there was some kind of point to this discussion, he couldn't grasp what the other man was trying to say. "Mr. Delacroix, I mean no disrespect, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

Nathan sighed. "You're a smart man. Ben, but I'm thinking you have a lot to learn when it comes to my daughter. She loves you, you know."

Ben caught his jaw before it fell open in shock. "She told you that?"

"She didn't have to. I've seen her and I've talked to her, and I don't think I've ever seen Christine so miserable. And, unfortunately, I've had firsthand experience with that kind of misery so I know exactly what she's going through. And seeing her so upset and hurting makes me very unhappy, because my daughter's happiness and well-being means everything to me."

Ben was so stunned by Nathan's intuition, he didn't know how to respond. But obviously, Nathan had plenty to say to him, and all he expected Ben to do was sit there and listen.

"I've always liked you, Ben. You're trustworthy and dependable, and have the kind of integrity that most men lack these days," Nathan said, and Ben knew he was referring to the previous men in Christine's life. "When my daughter needed a bodyguard, I picked you for the job for two very distinct reasons. One, I knew I could trust you with my daughter, to protect her and keep her safe. And two, I saw the way you and Christine were with one another. There was a certain kind of attraction and chemistry between you, and I thought maybe, hopefully, you two would hit it off and something deeper would develop."

Ben couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he certainly didn't know what to say.

"Judging by how emotional Christine has been lately, I'm guessing that you two more than just hit it off."

"Yes, we did," Ben admitted, but didn't reveal any details to the other man, because what he felt for Christine was a personal, private thing, and she deserved to hear it from him first-that he did lover her, and wanted a future with her. And he'd tell her all that and more, just as soon as this meeting with her father was over.

"You know, Christine told me what happened in Iraq, and I'm very sorry for what you lost there."

"Thank you, sir."

The anguish he always felt when he thought about Kim and her horrific death was still there, but not nearly as strong and overwhelming as it always had been. People told him that time would heal all wounds, but he was beginning to believe that Christine, with her gentle heart and tender way of understanding him, had been the one to soothe his pain, assuage his grief, and make him whole once again.

"She also mentioned how uncomfortable you are with the differences in your background and how Audrey feels about you."

Ben winced, feeling a rush of embarrassment heat his face. He wished that Christine hadn't divulged that bit of information, but since she had and it was all out in the open, he was just as honest. "Mrs. Delacroix has never made a secret of the fact that she doesn't care for me, especially when it comes to her daughter."

"I'm very sorry about that," Nathan said, apologizing for his wife's crass behavior. "But despite Audrey's negative and judgmental attitude when it comes to some people, I've always raised Christine to accept people at face value, and that's exactly what she's done with you. Luckily, she takes after me more than her mother in that regard," he added with a proud grin.

"One more thing," Nathan said, growing serious once again. "Losing this election was the best thing that ever happened to me."

The other man was full of surprises tonight, and Ben couldn't even begin to guess how this discussion would end. "How so?"

"It's allowed me to have a life of my own. To be true to myself and finally do what I should have done many years ago," Nathan said with conviction. "I'm divorcing Audrey, and I'm making sure that she gets help for her drinking problem that has grown increasingly worse over the years, and hopefully she'll be able to work through her bitterness at life in general. As for me, I'm tired of putting on a front and perpetrating a lie in public of being a happily married man when I'm not. I've wasted too many years being alone and lonely and I'm getting too damned old to live life that way. Don't make the same mistake I did by not going after the one thing that matters most in life."

Because Christine had confided in him, Ben knew that Nathan was referring to the woman he'd been having an affair with all these years. The woman he loved. The woman who'd waited patiently for him while he remained married to a spiteful wife and pursued a political career.

And now, Ben was going to go after the only thing that mattered in his life-the unconditional love of a tenderhearted, sensitive, beautiful woman.

Nathan sat forward in his chair, his gaze softening with genuine esteem. "I know how hard it is to face failure, or admit defeat, but sometimes it's best to put the past behind us where it belongs, and move forward with our lives."

"That's great advice." Ben stood, anxious to see Christine and hoping like hell that he still had a chance with her. "Is there anything else I need to know before I go and talk to Christy?" he asked the other man.

Nathan grinned. "Yeah. Just take care of her, cherish her, and make her happy for the rest of her life."

Ben nodded, knowing he'd do all that, and much more. "Consider it done."

Chapter Eighteen

CHRISTINE wasn't home from work for even ten minutes before someone knocked loudly on the front door. She was tired and cranky and all she wanted to do was pull off her blouse, skirt, and shoes and soak in a hot tub of water with big bubbles and a glass of wine, and soothe the heartache that had been her constant companion since Ben had walked out of her life.

She planned to indulge in that nightly ritual, just as soon as she got rid of whoever was on her front porch.

Figuring it was a solicitor trying to sell something she didn't want, she opened the door intending to give them a polite "thanks, but no thanks," but the words died on her lips-because even if this particular man wanted to sweet-talk her into buying oceanfront property in Arizona, there was no way she'd ever be able to refuse the offer.

Ben stood in front of her, solid and real, and not a dream or figment of her imagination. He looked just as gorgeous as ever, and he was watching her intently, waiting for a reaction, and she had to resist the urge to launch herself into his arms. Considering the way things had ended between them, and the current apprehension emanating from him, she didn't know why he was there, or what to expect.

When she said nothing at all, he finally spoke. "Can I come in and talk to you?"

"Sure." She opened the door wide, and after he entered, she led the way into the living room.

Turning to face him, she crossed her arms over her chest and met his gaze. An awkward silence settled between them, which she absolutely hated because it had never been like that with them before. They'd always been able to talk about everything and anything, and that was no longer the case.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked, for lack of something better to say.

"No, thanks," he replied, his tone low and rough… and just a bit uncertain, which matched the vulnerability and underlying fear shining in his eyes.

And that's when she realized the reason for his visit. Ben was a man who was strong and steady and sure. A man who'd learned to safeguard his emotions, and protect the heart that had been shattered more than just once. First, when his mother had walked out on him, and then when Kim had died in his arms.

But now, there were no walls, no defenses, and nothing to hide the wealth of feelings that she knew was all for her. But knowing was not enough. She had to hear the words from him.

"What do you want, Ben?" she asked, her soft whisper imploring him to open up and trust her, to believe in what they had together.

He exhaled a deep breath that unraveled into a groan. "The only thing I want, the only thing I need, is you."

Everything within her rejoiced, but outwardly she remained calm. "What changed?" She had to know.

"Me, hopefully." Sincerity rang true in his voice. His expression held no shutters, nothing closed off from her. "You're the first woman who has ever cared enough to pry out every painful secret I have, and force me to face some of my greatest fears, one of which is to take a chance and love someone again."

She held her breath, waiting and hoping…

"I love you, Christy," he said, his voice filled with such overwhelming confidence, such amazing certainty, that it brought tears to her eyes.

Finally, he closed the distance between them. He framed her face in his big, warm hands and stared deeply, adoringly, into her eyes, making her feel like the most precious thing in his life. And she believed it, too.

"I love the strong, generous, independent woman you are," he said, continuing his litany of fealty and devotion. "I love the way you make me laugh and smile. I love arguing with you and I love making love to you. And, I even love when you kick my ass in basketball," he added with a touch of humor.

She laughed around the emotion clogging her throat.

"But mostly, I love the way you make me feel when I thought I was dead inside, and that's something I can't, and don't want to live without."

She bit her bottom lip, and when she blinked, a tear rolled down her cheek.

He gently wiped away the moisture with his thumb, looking dismayed. "Why in the world are you crying?"

"Because I'm so happy," she said, knowing that as a guy, he wouldn't understand unless she explained. "With all the bad luck I've had with the men in my past, I never thought I'd ever get this lucky."

"I'm the lucky one," he insisted.

Okay, she wasn't going to argue with that. "I never knew what true love was, or what it felt like, until you. And I don't ever want the feeling to end."

"I won't let it. I promise." He brushed his lips across hers in a soft, featherlight kiss. "Marry me, Christy."

She pulled back, her eyes wide and hopeful. "Do you mean it?"

He released a long-suffering sigh. "For only about ten seconds, then the offer is off the table, so you need to decide fast," he teased.

"Yes," she said quickly, and threw her arms around his neck to hug him tight. "Yes, Ben, I'll marry you!"

She kissed him, deeply, her desire and love for this man knowing no boundaries. When they finally came up for air, she knew exactly how she wanted to get married-and it didn't include the kind of circus her mother would no doubt plan, given the chance.

"I want to elope," she told him, certain that would make him happy, too. "I want to go somewhere with you, just the two of us. I'm thinking somewhere sultry and romantic like Hawaii."

A grin quirked one corner of his sexy mouth. "Your mother would never forgive you."

"I'm okay with that." She threaded her fingers through his hair and pressed her body closer to his, rubbing her thighs sinuously against his, and generating a whole lotta heat in the process. "I don't want a big, huge, elaborate wedding, and I know you don't, either."

"But I would, for you."

She knew he meant it, and that was enough for her. "Thank you, but there's no need for either of us to go through eight months of planning hell." The thought made her shudder. She might plan other people's events for a living, but she'd been there, done that for herself, and it just wasn't for her personally. "And I really don't want to wait that long to get married."

"I'm ready anytime you are."

She wondered if next week was too soon for him. Now that she had Ben back in her life, she never wanted to let him go.

Then she thought of something she needed to tell him. "By the way, my parents are getting a divorce." For her, it was a huge relief, even though she knew her mother had a very rocky road ahead of her. And a lot of personal issues to deal with, as well.

"I know," he said quietly.

"You do?" She stared at him in shock. "How?"

He shrugged, and slid his hands around to her bottom as he walked her backward toward the long, wide couch, his intentions clear. "Your father told me."

She came to a stop before he could distract her further. "Wait a minute. You talked to my father?"

"Yeah." he admitted sheepishly. "Between him and Joel, they knocked some sense into me and made me realize what a fool I was for letting you go."

She grinned, making a mental note to thank both men when she got the chance. "They were both right, you know."

"Stop your gloating," he said in a playful growl.

He urged her back another step, then tumbled her onto the couch. She gasped as he came down on top of her, nestling his hips between her thighs until she could feel the press of his erection against the very heart of her. They were both still completely dressed, but she knew that wouldn't last much longer.

Face-to-face, he stared down at her, the love in his eyes nearly stealing her breath from her lungs. "How do you feel about having babies?"

She thought of two little boys that looked just like Ben, and maybe a girl to help balance out all that male testosterone. She wanted to give Ben the family he never had. "I want at least three."

"That works for me." He slid his hand beneath her skirt and trailed his fingers along her thigh. "In fact, I'm thinking we'd better start practicing, because it might take us a while to get it right."

She laughed, unable to contain the joy and happiness filling her to overflowing. "I couldn't agree with you more," she said, and pulled his mouth down to hers, ready to sacrifice herself to the cause, and more than willing to spend the rest of her life proving just how much she loved this man.