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pale, jagged flesh that marked the spot where a sniper had come within inches of ending his life.
    The thought of a vital man like Hawk Monroe dead made something deep inside her go insidiously cold.
    "Sorry," he drawled, "the bullet just missed my heart."
    Horror welled hot and fast, but she bit back the reaction. "That's not fair," she said quietly.
    "Well, you'll have to take that up with the shooter—"
    "That's not what I meant and you know it." The words came out in a rush. "Your comment wasn't fair. I'm glad you're … okay." Had prayed incessantly from the moment she'd heard about the shooting…
    He stepped closer, looked down at her in that alarmingly intimate way that made her feel as though he skimmed a finger along her neck instead. "Are you, Ellie?" he asked in that crushed-velvet voice of his. "Are you sure?"
    She tilted her chin, acutely aware that if she stepped back, he would have her pinned between his big body and the small bed. "I never wanted anything bad to happen to you."
    His eyes gleamed like melted butterscotch. "Oh, that's right. That's why you're so fond of looking at me like you harbor some secret fantasy of slipping arsenic into my food."
    She wasn't sure how it happened, but the laugh slipped free before she could stop it.
    "Now, there's a thought." Deliberately she lifted a single brow. "Is arsenic detectable?"
    His lips twitched. "Afraid so. The whole world would know Elizabeth Carrington isn't as infallible as she pretends to be."
    "Too bad," she said with a breeziness that pleased her. "What about toothpaste?"
    He blinked. "You want to kill me with toothpaste?"
    She slipped by him, brushing against the bed to avoid contact with his seminude body. "Is that possible?"
    "No."
    "Then I'll settle for brushing my teeth." She reached the bathroom and eyed his shaving kit. "Do you still carry a spare?"
    "You know me," he called from the bedroom. "A man in my line of work can never be too prepared."
    The words sent an odd thrill through her. She ignored it, ignored him, focused on getting rid of the lingering taste of fear. And of Hawk.
    Inside the battered leather bag, she found his toothbrush, green as always, the bristles slightly bent. She kept digging, found the toothpaste. The spare would be toward the bottom, she knew, right next to the—
    Elizabeth froze, her hand going completely still against the familiar blue box.
    A man in my line of work can never be too prepared.
    Heat flashed hot and hard and powerful. Her heart broke into a staccato rhythm, much like the rush after drinking a venti latte. That was life with Hawk Monroe, she knew. A caffeine overdose.
    Maybe that's why her hands had been shaking that night, as she'd reached for the little foil package and almost savagely ripped it open. Maybe that's why her vision had blurred, why she'd looked at Hawk and seen surprise and fascination, not hard, uncompromising lines.
    Maybe that's why she'd come apart in ways she'd never imagined possible. Never wanted to experience again.
    "Ellie?"
    Startled, she lifted her eyes to the mirror, where she saw Hawk filling the doorway, watching her through those hot, knowing eyes. "Find what you need?"

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    Chapter 3
    « ^ »
    H awk just stared. Long damp strands of sable hair scraggled against her face, but not enough to hide the surprise, almost the … guilt, in her eyes. Her skin was slightly flushed. Her lips were parted. She looked almost exactly like she had when she—
    Uh-oh.
    It took effort, because he damn well liked the sight, but Hawk forced himself to look from the mirror to his shaving kit, where the box of condoms winked at him like a pal with the habit of reappearing at the worst possible time.
    And he knew. God have mercy, he knew why Elizabeth looked exactly the way she had that night two years before.
    Awkward wasn't a word in Hawk's vocabulary. He always had just the right comeback, the right solution. But when he looked into Elizabeth 's wide eyes and saw memory glowing back at