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dead men. He’d been the former, one more time than he cared to recall. He was convinced it was only because God had a perverse sense of humor that he had escaped becoming the latter.
    He’d begun to appreciate that sense of humor two months before when his father had died in his arms, leaving behind an unexpected legacy. He had a brother. A twin brother.
    On his dying breath Blackie had issued a challenge. Find Lucas. From any other man it would have been a final request. Blackie didn’t make requests, nor did he issue orders. His methods were far more clever. Logan had been a grown man before he had understood them.
    Blackie’s motto had been, “Discover what motivates a person. Then use that desire to make them want to dowhat you wanted done all along.” It was a very successful form of emotional blackmail. It worked even beyond the grave.
    Logan moved slowly toward the back deck, keeping close to the side of the cabin. His feet hurt from the cold. He focused on that pain to keep his mind sharp. Whatever the hell she’d pumped into him that morning had left him fuzzy. The concentration he’d had to use to keep his confusion at bay had exhausted him.
    Even so, he’d begun working on getting free the moment he’d heard her close the sliding door. Despite her obvious skill in utilizing restraints, he’d anticipated being free and tracking her before an hour had elapsed. But she was better than good. He owed his freedom more to luck than his own skill. He’d barely made it out the window as she’d opened the deck door.
    After taking care of the pressure that had begun to feel like a jackknife in his bladder, he crept forward, angled his head very slightly, and peered around the edge of the sliding glass door with one eye. Snow blindness made it difficult to see anything but dark shadows. He didn’t have the luxury of waiting for his pupils to adjust. Lord only knew what other nasty surprises she had in that damn black bag. He hated surprises.
    A shadow moved into the bedroom. The light from the window highlighted his captor. Her hands were empty. She stepped immediately up onto the bed and went to the window. Smart. He had to be smarter. He tugged off the cumbersome sheet and made his move.
    She waited a beat too long deciding whether to follow him out the window or backtrack to the glass door. She turned toward the door just as he came across the bed.
    He pulled her backward, flipping her under him as they landed hard. She was facedown, her head turned to one side. He had her wrists pinned on her lower back, his knees on her spread thighs, and his mouth by her ear.
    “I like a woman who’s active in bed, but you really push things to the limit.”
    “Go to hell.”
    She didn’t fight him, but he didn’t for a second believe she’d accepted defeat. He kept his hold firm. “Been there, done that, didn’t bother buying the T-shirt.”
    “Why, none big enough to fit over your ego?”
    “Nah. I knew I’d get another chance on my next trip.”
    “I’ll do my best to make that real soon.”
    “You can try.” She craned her head just enough to hold his gaze. Hers was unwavering.
    It was a helluva time to notice how incredibly green her eyes were. He was already well aware of the rest of her … attributes. Watching her athletic form as she strolled in and out of the bedroom, it had been impossible not to notice. Those black ski pants of hers fit like a second skin. Now she was pinned beneath him for the second time, all taut muscle and finely tuned response.
    Yeah, she had him taut and finely tuned too. Adrenaline wasn’t the only thing pumping through his system.
    “How’d you get out of the restraints?” she asked, her voice steady and determined despite the strain of her current position.
    “Professional curiosity?”
    “Harry Houdini couldn’t have gotten out of those straps.”
    “Martin Riggs could.”
    Her eyebrows quirked. “Never heard of him.”
    He let out a disgusted sigh. “What