By the time the movie ended, he'd d.a.m.n near worn a path in the Oriental carpet that led from the sitting room to the bedroom.

The good news was that he had a plan in place.

The bad was that he didn't know where Young was, and what that really meant was that he didn't know what Young was up to.

The only certainty about the man was that at this point, he was legally untouchable.

He'd moved from befriending Jaimie to dating her. When that had gone south, he'd turned into her unwanted suitor, sending gifts and, turning up everywhere she went. Approaching her, saying ugly things to her...none of it was really sufficient for hara.s.sment charges or a restraining order.

One lawyer pal pointed out an awful truth that Zach already knew. Even if she got a restraining order, it was always possible that the hara.s.sment could lead to worse things.

"Plain English," his friend said, "women have been killed for trying to keep the creeps away. I'm sure you know that."

Zach did.

Plus, the man had a clean history. No prior charges of anything, not even a traffic ticket.

A hundred times that night Zach silently cursed himself for having inadvertently destroyed the proof of Young's trespa.s.s, though, after a while, he wondered if even that would have sealed the man's fate.

And Young's connections trumped Zach's. His family was political royalty. "Un-f.u.c.king-touchables," a cop pal said.

In the end, Zach got three of his best men, all guys he'd worked with at The Agency, on a conference call. He told them what they needed to know, faxed them a photo of Young he'd snapped when he'd first checked him out, and said he wanted them in place within the next six hours.

"To tail the woman," one guy said.

"To tail Young," Zach replied. "I want you calling the locals the moment you see him trying an entry. Make sure you grab the tools he uses, make sure the locals find them in his possession or at the site, provide them if you have to. I want pictures. Sound. I want every move he makes in living-color 3D. Do we understand each other?"

His men were smart enough not to point out that those things were mostly illegal and virtually impossible. Instead, they waited a decent interval before the one who'd known him longest spoke.

"And the woman?"

Zach took a deep breath.

"Don't worry about the woman," he said. "She's mine."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

Jaimie was dreaming.

She was running through an enormous building. Everything was gray. Walls. Floors. Ceiling. There were no windows. No doors. She was alone, but she wasn't. Someone was coming after her. Someone. She could sense his presence.

She ran faster.

Her pursuer was gaining on her.

A wall loomed ahead of her. She couldn't run any further.

Whimpers rose in her throat.

"No," she said.

She swung around, fists raised, and saw Steven. He was laughing as he closed the distance between them.

"No," she said again, "no..."

"Jaimie."

"No!"

She struck out blindly. A big hand caught hers.

"Jaimie. Honey. It's me. Zach. Zacharias. Baby, you're dreaming."

Her eyes flew open. Her lover, her beautiful, magical lover was leaning over her. She was safe in his arms, in their bed.

She sobbed his name. He gathered her close, soothed her with gentle caresses, b.u.t.terfly kisses, whispers of a.s.surance. Gradually, her breathing slowed. She burrowed into him, and he ran the pads of his thumbs under her eyes, wiping away hot tears.

"OK?" he said softly.

She nodded. Gave a watery laugh.

"I had a bad dream."

Young, Zach thought, fighting back a rush of fury.

"Yeah. I figured that." It was the understatement of the century.

"Too much chocolate cake."

They'd finished the cake in the middle of the night, she sitting on his lap, the two of them taking alternate mouthfuls from her fork.

"There is no such thing as too much chocolate cake."

"Not for you, maybe, but women know these things." She forced a smile, a teasing tone. "Chocolate cake equals chocolate calories."

"It does, huh?"

She nodded. "And those are the worst kind. They go straight to your hips."

Zach flashed a s.e.xy grin.

"I'm all that's allowed to go straight to your hips, Ms. Wilde, and don't you forget it."

The smile came more easily this time. "Don't let me forget it, Mr. Castelianos."

She relaxed against him. "What time is it?"

"Time to get up."

"It's Sunday. I always sleep in on Sunday."

"Not today." Zach gave her a quick kiss and rolled away.

"Don't tell me. You're into going out and getting the paper."

"The hotel delivers it to the door."

"Then, why are we getting up at -She rose on her elbows, checked the clock and flung herself back against the pillows. "At six a.m.! What's going on?"

Zach was already pulling on his jeans.

"We have a plane to catch."

That brought her upright. "A what?"

"A plane, honey. Long aluminum tube. Big wings. Flies you from point A to point B."

"It's six in the morning. Trust me, Castelianos. I am not to be trifled with at six on a Sunday morning." Her gaze went to the windows. "At six on a gray, wet Sunday morning."

"I have not yet trifled with you," Zach said meaningfully. "If I had, we'd both know it. And the fact that it's gray and wet is all the more reason for us not to miss our flight."

He was serious. Jaimie sat up and stared at him.

"Are we going somewhere?"

"Yup."

"Zacharias..."

He'd come to know that tone. And he loved it. He leaned down, took her mouth in a sweet early-morning kiss.

"It's going to snow in a couple of hours. We miss our plane, we'll probably get stuck at Dulles for the rest of the winter."

"It isn't winter yet," she said reasonably.

"It will be soon. And when it is, we'll be in the Bahamas."

Had he lost his mind? Jaimie thought it. Then she said it.

"Zacharias Castelianos. Have you lost your mind?"

"I hate winter."

"So?"

"So I want to see you in a bikini."

"You've seen me naked," she said, and blushed, which was, at this point, patently ridiculous, but she blushed anyway.

"You, a bikini, a pink sand beach, golden sun and bright blue water...and did I mention, no winter?"

"Zacharias. Talk to me. I don't understand a single thing you're saying."

"I rented a villa in the Bahamas."

Jaimie blinked. "What?"

Zach zipped his jeans, pulled on a white T-shirt and sat down on the bed beside her.

"I want us to be alone," he said softly, while he stroked a tangle of blond hair back from her cheek. "You and me. n.o.body else. I want us to learn about each other. Be together. No distractions. Nothing but us."

Could your heart swell?

"But-"

"But what?"

"Well, my job."

"This can't be a terribly busy season for a Realtor."

He was right. It wasn't. In fact, Bengs had made it clear that anyone who wanted to take time off was free to do so. It wasn't an especially generous gesture, considering that his Realtors worked on commission, but it did mean she could go with Zacharias to the Bahamas.

Of course you can, Jaimie.

No, James. You cannot. Fly away with a man you hardly know?

You know him, Jaimie. You've made love with him more times than you can count.

James. Knowing him in the biblical sense is not the same as knowing him.

Zacharias cupped her face in his hands.