LITMIR.BIZ

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could feel her nerves jumping. As before, she’d managed to track Weber down by the activity on his charge card. When she saw that he’d checked into the Excelsior Hotel in Dallas, she’d felt as if she’d hit pay dirt. Different than the hotels he’d stayed in previously, the Excelsior catered to a whole different breed of people. The man was moving up. Her guess was that Weber had to be feeling pretty cocky about his getaway. Maybe he actually thought he’d lost them.

      Pride went before a fall, she thought smugly. Which meant that she couldn’t get too confident or she would be sharing his fate.

      Turning toward her, he nuzzled her neck. “How do you like to do it?”

      Cara was struggling not to have her skin crawl off her body. “Slowly. All night.”

      He ran his hands up and down her bare arms, his breathing becoming audible, heavy. “And what will this night of ecstasy cost me?”

      Steady, just a little while longer, she counseled herself. For Weber’s benefit, she smiled seductively. “We’ll talk terms in your room,” she promised.

      “Why wait until we’re in my room to get started?” Grabbing her roughly, he pulled her to him, his hand going up her skirt.

      Quickly Cara pulled away. When he protested, his temper flaring, she pointed to the small camera mounted in the corner.

      “Security cameras,” she told him. “You don’t want some underpaid, pimply-faced adolescent getting his rocks off by watching us, do you?”

      He grunted something completely unintelligible under his breath as he fisted his hands at his sides and glared at the camera.

      The woman with him was hot and he wanted to take her now, while his loins throbbed.

      “Americans,” Weber jeered. “Always watching everything. A nation of voyeurs.”

      Thank God for small blessings, she thought. He’d almost slipped his hand over her weapon.

      Once they were in his room, Cara knew she was going to have to act fast. There would be no time for slipups and what she had going for her was the element of surprise. The man was thinking so hard with his organ that he hadn’t recognized her. She’d gone through a lot of trouble not to look like herself, but a real professional would have noticed the similarities between the pro he was bringing to his room and the woman who had pounded on his door a short while ago.

      Lucky for her, she thought.

      Now all she needed was for her luck to hang on a little longer. There were handcuffs in her purse. It might have been safer for her to have placed her weapon in there, too, but she’d wanted to feel the reassuring press of metal against her flesh and had opted to strap her gun to the inside of her leg.

      Her quarry brought her to his door, unlocking it. Anticipation rushed through his veins.

      “I want you to strip for me.” He locked the door behind her. “Slowly.”

      Cara turned around, stepping back coyly out of his reach. “We still haven’t talked terms.”

      Pulling out his wallet, he yanked out several large bills, tossing them on the floor between them. “There. Terms. Now do your part.”

      It was now or never, she thought. Even if she began to go through the motions to distract him further, dropping her dress would leave her wearing matching bra and panties and a gun that didn’t match either.

      As his eyes bored into her, Cara began to slowly hike her skirt up, swishing the material along her legs, knowing that she was going to have to be fast to get the drop on him. She hadn’t gotten to where she was by underestimating the people she was up against.

      Her eyes never leaving him, Cara slipped her hand beneath her skirt, her fingers securing the hilt of her gun. She froze when she heard the knock on the door. The sound vibrated in her chest, blending with the hammering of her heart.

      Distracted, angry at being interrupted, Weber growled, “Yes?”

      “Room service,” a Southern voice twanged.

      “Go away. You have the wrong room,” Weber barked. “I did not order anything.”

      “No, sir, this is the right room,” the voice insisted. “Compliments of the house. Champagne and a basket of fruit.”

      Weber took a step toward the woman whose obedience he’d just bought. “Leave it in the hall.”

      “Can’t, sir. I need you to sign that you got it. Otherwise, they’ll think I took it and I’ll lose my job. I’ve got a family to support—”

      “Enough!” Weber shouted. Swearing, he swung around and unlocked the door again. He looked at the table that was before the bellman. There was nothing on it. Incensed, he looked up at the tall bellman. “Where is my champagne?”

      “Right here.”

      The next moment, the table was being shoved into Weber. Caught off guard, Weber stumbled backward and fell.

      Cara’s mouth dropped open in surprise. She’d been so busy not underestimating Weber that she’d wound up underestimating his pursuer.

      Ryker.

      It took her less than a split second to come to. Cara pulled out her weapon, training it on Weber, who was sprawled out on the floor.

      “Don’t move a muscle,” she ordered. “Kevin Weber, you’re under arrest by order of the sheriff’s department of the town of Shady Rock, Colorado.”

      Max was shrugging out of his bellman’s jacket. There was a gun in one hand and she saw the handcuffs at the back of his belt. “He’s my prisoner, Rivers,” he informed her as he tossed the jacket aside.

      She smiled at him serenely, shaking her head. “Uh-uh. I had him first. And possession, Ryker, is still nine-tenths of the law.”

      On the floor, Weber looked angrily from the call girl to the bellman. “Who the hell are you people?”

      Cara smiled broadly. She really enjoyed saying this line. “Your worst nightmare, Weber.” Gun trained on the man on the floor, her eyes pinning him in place, she asked, “What are you doing here, Ryker?”

      He didn’t want her to get away with it, but right now wasn’t the time to challenge her. If they started arguing, Weber or whoever he really was might get away.

      “Trying to get back my car and my prisoner,” Max told her.

      She could afford to be magnanimous. Up to a point. “The car’s downstairs. Valet parking. Just let me get my stuff out of it and you can have it back.” She spared Ryker one quick glance. She knew her answer wasn’t going to sit well with him. Too bad. She had no intention of giving up custody. “But the prisoner’s mine.”

      The woman was nothing short of infuriating. “I can have you up on charges of grand theft, auto. Like the idea of doing time, Rivers?” He didn’t tell her that he didn’t want too much attention drawn to Weber, that if the police were called in to arrest her, things might get dicey about Weber and the matter of jurisdiction. Besides, when he really got down to it, he didn’t like the idea of the woman being arrested. He admired her creativity and spirit. And he liked besting her on his own without outside help.

      Her eyes darted to his face. And then she smiled. “You can,” she allowed, sensing that he wasn’t the type to follow the strict letter of the law, “but you won’t. Like it or not, you admire resourcefulness.” Slowly, her gun still raised, she opened her purse. “Speaking of which, how’d you get here?”

      “I got the desk clerk to sell me his car.” It hadn’t been easy. The man insisted on being paid a lot more than the vehicle had been worth, but he’d been desperate.

      Thinking back, Cara vaguely recalled seeing an old, rusting jalopy parked in front of the motel office. It hadn’t looked as if it could even run.

      “You’re

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