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about that herself. She had been pondering the problem since the Warwicks had left. She was still mulling over the right approach for telling Jonas about his new consulting assignment as she hurried back along the dark path that led from the resort to her cabin.
    The path was treacherous. Crusts of ice were already forming. Verity plunged her hands deep into the pockets of her down parka, hunching her shoulders against the chill.
    The steps leading up to her deck were icy and she used the rail to steady herself. The porch light was out. She frowned, certain that she had left it on earlier. Perhaps the bulb had burned out. Replacing bulbs was one of those little things Jonas was good at doing.
    Verity had her hand on the doorknob when she heard a faint scraping sound within the cabin. A rush of excitement surged through her. Jonas was home!
    “Jonas? When did you get in?” She pushed open the door and started to reach for the light switch. “Why didn’t you turn on the lights?”
    A dark body exploded through the doorway, shoving Verity violently to one side. She staggered wildly backward, her shoes slipping and sliding across the ice patches.
    The dark figure bounded down the steps at a dead run. Rage raced through Verity. She started after the intruder, only to have her feet slip out from under her as she went down the steps.
    She felt her balance going, and felt a sharp pain in her right side. Suddenly all she could think about was protecting the child she might be carrying.
    She must not fall!
    She grabbed frantically for the railing, catching it just as her injured ankle collapsed beneath her. She was barely in time.
    Her breath coming in short, steamy little gasps, she lowered herself slowly to the icy step and watched helplessly as the intruder vanished into the trees.
    “Damn, damn, damn.” She was shaking like a leaf.
    After a moment, she picked herself up, realized she couldn’t put any weight on her ankle, and limped painfully into the cabin to call Laura.
    Her friend arrived a short time later, the Warwicks in tow.
    “They happened to be at the front desk when you called,” Laura explained as she fussed over Verity. “Rick was busy handling a crisis in the bar.”
    “We’d better get you to a doctor,” Doug Warwick said, examining Verity’s rapidly swelling ankle. “I’ll carry you to the car.”
    Before Verity could think of a response, he had lifted her into his arms and was heading for the door.
    It was most unfortunate for the sake of future business relations that when Doug carried her back into the cabin an hour later, he got a knife at his throat for his trouble.
    “What the hell is going on here?” Jonas asked. His voice was a cold, dangerous snarl coming from the shadows.

 
    Chapter Three
     
    Jonas! Put down that knife this instant! Honestly, I have never been so embarrassed in my life.” Verity scrabbled for the switch on the wall behind Doug. “I’m terribly sorry about this, Doug.”
    Doug didn’t move an inch. He stood perfectly still, holding Verity in his arms. He blinked when the light came on, revealing the man holding the knife. “I think there’s a slight misunderstanding here,” he croaked.
    “I think maybe there is,” Jonas agreed in an ominously soft voice.
    “Jonas, stop it. This is ridiculous. You’re humiliating me. And just look at you. You’re a mess.” Verity glared furiously at Jonas. He definitely was not in any condition to impress clients. The knife he was holding at Doug’s throat was the worst of it, of course, but the rumpled, stained work shirt and jeans and the rough stubble of several days’ growth of beard did not help matters. His golden eyes glittered like those of a predator. At least he appeared to be in good shape physically, she thought, feeling a rush of relief.
    “What’s going on here, Verity?” Jonas flicked a brief, grim glance at her before returning his gaze to his victim.
    “Stop behaving like a Neanderthal and I’ll