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emotion pulsed between them, intimately binding them in its intensity. Kyle took a deep breath, uncurled the fingers he'd fisted, and forced himself to relax again. It was futile to give in to the long-simmering frustration.
    His loss of control unnerved him and made him realize he was bone-tired. Otherwise, he wouldn't be wasting time and energy on useless venting.
    Rianna spared him a glance. "That's the gray part you hated so much?" she asked quietly.
    "Enough to make me call it quits."
    She nodded, and something about the small, supportive action clutched at his gut. It had been a long time since anyone had really cared or understood his feelings. He needed to shut her out before she had a chance to undermine all his good intentions.
    "I think I'll take a nap."
    * * *
    Rianna kept her attention on the winding, mountainous road, but stayed alert to every move and sound her passenger made. Tremont reclined his seat, stretched out his legs and crossed his arms over his chest. Finally, he settled his long, lean body in the tight confines.
    The tension in the car eased along with him, like the cleansed calm after a storm.
    "Sure you're all right to drive?" he asked, tipping the bill of his hat over his face.
    "Positive," she said, still too wired to relax. "I rested earlier."
    "It's been thirty-six hours for me. I could use some shut-eye."
    "I imagine you could. Will it bother you if I listen to cassettes?" Music was one of her greatest passions, probably because it was a continual, no-risk pleasure that warded off loneliness. "Our radio reception won't be very reliable for a while."
    "Music doesn't bother me unless it's that rap stuff."
    "No rap or heavy metal, I promise."
    "Glad to hear it."
    There was just a hint of teasing in his tone. It surprised and warmed her, so she responded in kind. "Then, go to sleep. If I get drowsy, I'll wake you."
    "Do that."
    His comment sounded more like a command. Rianna shook her head, but didn't respond. Men, she thought, they always want to be the ones in charge. She recognized and could tolerate the attitude as long as it suited her purposes.
    A half-hour outside of Hendersonville , she heard his breathing turn slow and steady. The sound of his soft snoring was strangely comforting, which worried her. It made her wonder at her own reactions to the FBI legend.
    She'd been shocked by her physical response during the brief moments she'd spent in his arms on the dance floor. She'd held her own emotions under rigid control for so long that she'd begun to feel like a zombie. The sting of attraction had been so alien that she almost hadn't recognized it. Now that she had, it had become an unwelcome complication.
    Being cooped up in their current tight quarters stirred her senses again. Heat radiated from Tremont, enveloping her. His sheer size and stature tugged at something elementally feminine in her, something she couldn't quite analyze.
    Maybe a compact car wasn't such a good idea, but she hadn't given a thought to prospective passengers when she'd bought it. She'd always been something of a recluse, and her lifestyle didn't allow much time for men or long-term relationships. Her greatest strength was the ability to function in any given situation while maintaining emotional distance—protected in her own insular little world.
    So why was she having such a strong reaction to this man?
    His service record had fascinated her from the beginning—dedication to duty coupled with a renegade personality. He'd been both praised and damned by his peers, but his devotion to job and country had never been in doubt. The fact that Donald Sullivan trusted him implicitly was testimony enough to his integrity.
    That didn't mean she fully trusted him. She'd been alone for too many years, fiercely independent, working toward one goal with steadfast, obsessive determination.
    Did she find Tremont attractive because he represented an end to her self-imposed isolation? The light at the end of the long, dark