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say it.”
    “Chase, please. There’s something…something I can’t live without in that pack.”
    His body tightened in response. “What is it?” Even his jaw sounded like it was clenched.
    “It’s something that belonged to my mother.”
    “Sorry, sweetheart. Real life outweighs sentimental value. When I count to three—”
    “It has far more than sentimental value,” she insisted.
    He squeezed her a little as if that could emphasize his point. “Money can be replaced, Arianna. Human life cannot.”
    “As if I, of all people, don’t know that.” Damn him. She’d get it herself. She gave her whole body a good shake, trying to throw him off. Totally fruitless.
    “Nothing is that important.”
    Fury, and fear, gave her enough strength to whip partially around, finally getting to see his face. “I can’t live without it.”
    Even in the dark, she could see his eyelids shudder. “Without what ?” Suddenly, he looked left, then right. “Shhh.”
    She heard the soft hum of a golf cart motor in the distance, far enough away that there were no lights, but it was definitely getting closer. “Don’t make a sound,” he said. “Don’t move.”
    “It might be security,” she insisted.
    “It might not.” He yanked her down, pushing her against hard, cold asphalt. “Go under. Now.”
    He thrust her into the eighteen-inch wheel space, cinders stabbing her palms. She held her breath as he half dragged her into the darkness, blinking into the gloom, smelling earth and grease and whatever grew under there. He stopped when they were fully underneath the trailer floor.
    Arianna peered into the dim light on the other side, where she could see her bag and half its contents scattered around the metal stairs. There was her wallet. Her cell phone. Her keys. And good Lord, there was the tiny velvet pouch she’d stuffed in her pack, right out in the open, where a truck would smash it or someone would find it!
    Oh, Mom. I’m sorry.
    She’d thought about leaving the ring on, but, as always, she took it off unless she needed it. Now she might lose it. That couldn’t happen. It couldn’t.
    The golf cart was still far enough away that she couldn’t see any headlights. She had time. Without a glance of warning to the man beside her, she shot forward, getting no more than two feet before he seized her thigh.
    “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, dragging her back, her jacket and tank top sliding up so that the asphalt scraped her bare skin.
    “You see that little bag, right past the stairs? I’m going to get that. And yes, I am willing to die trying.”
    He swore softly. “Don’t move.” He slithered forward like an army guy in the trenches, a gun in his right hand as he snaked toward the stairs.
    She tried to swallow, but her mouth was bone-dry. Hope grabbed her heart and squeezed as she watched. She knew she was right about him. Good all the way down to the bone. Pissed off and pessimistic as hell, but good.
    In one graceful move, he grabbed the keys and the wallet. But he still didn’t have the ring. He inched out of the protective covering of the trailer just as the golf cart rumbled from the access road behind sound stage four, a few hundred yards away. In seconds, it would turn the corner and its lights would shine directly on him.
    Hurry. Terrified to look, but unable not to, she glanced in the direction of sound stage four. High beam lights danced on the strip of asphalt she could see from under the trailer.
    Chase dove at the bag, seized it, then pivoted without getting up from his crouch. Lunging back under the trailer, he twisted into the tiny space the very second that yellow lights spilled all over the spot where he’d just been.
    She reached to him, an exclamation caught in her throat.
    “Quiet!” he ordered, shimmying next to her. “I didn’t have time to get the backpack,” he said, the tiny note of apology in his voice touching her more than the act itself.
    “Thank you.” She