CHAPTER ONE

AS SHE LOCKED THE DOOR of the Midland, Illinois, public library and stepped into the evening heat of the parking lot, Eleanor Perkins realized that once again she was the last to leave. All her colleagues had left long ago. But then, she told herself, they all had someone waiting for them at home. The only thing she had to look forward to was a quick dinner and the romance novel she’d begun reading the night before.

Clouds drifted across the moon, deepening the shadows that surrounded her car. A chill danced across her skin and slowed her steps, but she gave herself an impatient shake. “For heaven’s sake, don’t be a goose,” she said out loud. “This is the library. What could happen here?”

Holding her keys firmly in her hand, she headed for her car, a sedate, four-door sedan. It was just like the rest of her life, she thought suddenly. Boring, predictable and beige. Far too beige.

For a moment she imagined a snappy red sports car in place of the sedan. She would get behind the wheel, shake out the pins confining her hair in a prim bun, lower the convertible top and roar through the streets of Midland, letting the wind comb wild fingers through her locks.

She shook her head. It would take more than a sports car to change her life. It would take a miracle. And she’d never believed in them.

As she inserted the key into the lock, she heard a rustling in the bushes beyond the car. Her heart leaped into her throat and she froze. Then she rolled her eyes. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” a voice said in her ear. “I saw you hesitate before you walked over here. You should have paid attention to your instincts.”

She jerked her head around. A man was standing far too close to her. He crowded her against the door, and she opened her mouth to scream.

“Don’t do that,” he said in a low voice. Slowly he raised a gun. “Come around to the other side, and don’t make any sudden moves.”

“What do you want?” Stupid question. What do you think he wants?

“I want you to get in. Then I’m going to get in. And then we’re going to drive away.”

She stared at the gun in his hand. Moonlight glinted off the dark metal, making it appear huge and deadly. A spasm of fear shot through her, but she managed to shake her head. “I’m not getting into the car with you. That’s what all the self-defense classes say—never get into a car.”

Her heart beat frantically against her chest and her legs wobbled like soft Jell-O. But she forced herself to meet his eyes. “So you might as well shoot me right here.”

If she hadn’t been so terrified, she would have sworn a tiny grin flickered across his mouth. For a fraction of a second his eyes twinkled with humor, then they hardened again. “I don’t have time to discuss your options. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “I won’t hurt you as long as you do as I say. I need to get out of here, and I need to do it now. Move!”

She threw the keys toward him. “Take the car. Go wherever you need to. You don’t have to take me with you.”

He caught the keys without taking his eyes off her. Slowly he shook his head. “And let you call the police as soon as I’m out of sight? I don’t think so.”

“I won’t call them. I promise.”

“Right. And I bet you’d tell me that the check was in the mail, too.” He froze for a moment as if listening to something, and she heard the distant wail of a police siren. Then he clenched his jaw and grabbed her arm. “Let’s go. And we’re going together.”

He pulled her around to the other side of the car and she grabbed at the antenna, trying to prevent him from forcing her into the vehicle. Her purse smashed against the taillight and pieces of plastic spattered onto the asphalt. Her attacker peeled her hands away from the antenna and pushed her into the seat. She twisted to face him and managed to kick him in the thigh. He stiffened, sucking in his breath as if she’d hurt him.

Yes! She tried to lunge out the door.

He raised the gun again.

“Move over into the driver’s seat.”

His dark eyes were flat and cold, hard as granite. Any trace of humanity, including that hint of a smile, had disappeared from his expression. All that was left was cold resolve. And the gun that was now pointing steadily at her.

There was no way past him. And looking at his shadowed face, so hard and bleak, she had no doubt he would use the gun. “All right.”

Watching him carefully, waiting for any momentary advantage, she slid onto the driver’s seat and tensed as he eased himself into the car. He winced as he pulled the door shut behind him, then turned to point the gun at her again.

“Get going.”

Her hands shook so badly that it took two tries before the engine turned over. Finally she looked at him. “Where do you want me to go?”

“Start driving west. I’ll tell you where to turn.” He shifted in the seat so he was facing her. “And don’t speed or run any red lights or flash your headlights.” His voice was icy and pitiless. “Don’t pull any of those tricks they taught you in your self-defense class. I know every one of them.”

“Can I ask where you’re taking me?”

“You can ask anything you want. That doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

She looked down at the gas gauge. “I hope you’re not planning on going too far, then.”

“Why?” He leaned toward her.

She nodded toward the gauge, where the needle was hovering close to the large red E. “Because I’m almost out of gas.”

She heard him swear under his breath, a short, ugly word.

“Don’t you know you’re supposed to fill your tank when it’s three-quarters empty?”

“Sorry. If I had known I was going to be carjacked, I would have stopped to fill up on my way to work,” she snapped.

Too late, she realized she’d let fear and temper get the better of her. She waited for him to explode in anger, to shove the gun into her side and tell her to shut up. To her surprise, instead of snarling at her he leaned back in his seat, and she saw that half grin hovering around the corners of his mouth again.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you?”

It was the last response she had expected. But it was good, she told herself as she struggled to subdue her fear. She could bond with him. Wasn’t a criminal less likely to harm a victim he’d bonded with?

“I’m a children’s librarian,” she told him primly. “I know the value of being firm. Children respond well to firmness.”

She could have sworn he smothered a chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She would remember that chuckle, she promised herself fiercely. Just as she would remember that glint of humor in his eyes. She would remember everything about him, from his hard, angular face to the breadth of his shoulders beneath his shirt to the lean, sinewy length of him.

And she’d identify him to the police when she got away from him. Her eyes skipped over him again. His dark hair was a little too long, and it looked as if he’d run his fingers through it several times tonight. He was a head taller than she was, which would make him a little over six feet. She thought his eyes were dark blue, but she couldn’t be sure. And his face was imprinted onto her memory. That combination of toughness with a hint of tenderness would be hard to forget.

She would have no trouble identifying him in a mug shot.

The thought comforted her as she drove. Taut silence filled the car. Tension vibrated from her captor, sucking up the air and making her hands sweat. Energy poured from his body in waves as he alternated his gaze between her and the buildings flashing past the window. But at least he wasn’t looming over her anymore. Although he kept the gun pointed at her, he leaned against the seat.

“Turn here,” he said abruptly, gesturing with the weapon.

She obediently turned to the right, onto a street that wasn’t nearly as well-lit. They were on the west side of Midland now, in a run-down industrial area. Empty buildings and cold smokestacks were all that remained of the once-thriving factories that had built the city. Now the area was as deserted and spooky as a ghost town. There wasn’t a soul in sight to help her. Even the derelicts who lived in this part of Midland knew better than to roam the streets after dark. Fear trembled through her again. What did he want in this part of town?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeated. He must have sensed her fear. “I need to get something before we leave.”

“What do you mean, ‘we’? I’m not going anywhere.” She tried to sound confident, but she couldn’t stop the quaver in her voice.

“Yes, you are.” His glance flickered over their dreary surroundings once more. “This isn’t a pleasure outing.”

“Why do you have to take me with you? You just need the car.”

“Like I said, I can’t take the chance that you’ll call the police.” His voice had gone hard again.

“Then drop me off here. By the time I get to a phone, you’ll be long gone.”

“You think I’d leave you in this part of town?” His voice was incredulous. “Do you know how dangerous it is around here at this time of night?”

She stared at him, disbelieving. “Yeah, there are all kinds of bad things that could happen to me. A man with a gun might even try to carjack me.”

“You never know.” His voice held the suggestion of another chuckle.

They drove past more abandoned buildings, and he instructed her to turn a few times. After she made the last turn, they spotted a police car coming toward them. As it got closer, she felt his tension building, and he slid low in the seat. “Be careful,” he warned in a low voice. “I’m watching you, and trust me, I’ve got nothing to lose.” To emphasize his words, he prodded her with the gun.

Her hands trembled on the steering wheel, but she didn’t flick on her high beams or stamp on the gas. She felt his gaze boring into her, felt the threatening presence of the gun. When the police car cruised slowly past, she looked in the rearview mirror. The officer hadn’t even spared a glance back at her car. Has it gone yet?” he asked.

“It just turned a corner.”

“You’d better be telling me the truth.”

“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” She wasn’t sure how she managed to keep her voice calm.

He ignored her and turned to look over the seat. When he was satisfied that the squad car was out of sight, he sat up straight again. “Turn left here.”

The maneuver would take them in the opposite direction from the cruiser. Reluctantly she turned and headed down another grim, dark street.

“Why me?” she asked. “Why did you take me?”

“Because you were there. And you were alone.”

“My husband is expecting me home. What if he calls the police and tells them I’m missing?” she bluffed. “They’ll be looking for this car very soon.”

“Good try, but you’re not married.”

“How do you know?” She moved her left hand into the shadows to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a ring.

“First of all, you’re not wearing a wedding band. I looked before I grabbed you.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Lots of married people don’t wear rings.”

“Maybe. But if you were hurrying to get home to your husband, why did you stay at the library an hour after it closed? There’s no one waiting for you at home, not even a date. If there was, you wouldn’t have stayed so late at work on a Friday night. I don’t figure anyone is calling the police to report you missing tonight.”

His words stung. Even a carjacker, a lowly criminal, knew how empty her life was. Was she so mousy, so plain and forgettable that a complete stranger knew no one would be waiting for her? “I guess you’ll be surprised when the police stop this car, then.”

“I guess I will be.” His tone was mild, and she could tell he didn’t believe her.

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel again, but this time with anger. She’d show him, by God. She’d get away from him and call the police, and the next time she saw him would be in a line-up at the police station.

“Stop here,” he said, interrupting her fantasy.

She pulled over to the curb but didn’t turn off the engine. She would wait for him to get out of the car, then she’d drive away.

“Turn off the engine,” he said, steel in his voice. “And give me the keys.”

She hesitated for a moment, but after glancing at the gun, twisted the key until the engine stopped. Then she yanked it out of the column and threw it in his direction.

“What’s your name?” he asked in a low voice.

“What difference does it make?” She turned to give him a defiant stare, and was startled when she saw understanding in his eyes.

“Look,” he said, “if there were any other way of doing it, I wouldn’t have grabbed you. But I had no choice. I want to know your name so I know what to call you. If I need to give you instructions, I don’t want to have to yell ‘Hey you.’”

“It’s Eleanor,” she finally said, her voice clipped. “Eleanor Perkins.”

“Thanks, Eleanor. Now let’s go.”

“Wait a minute. What’s your name? Or am I just supposed to call you ‘scumbag’?”

He shook his head. “That’s good, Eleanor. That’s very good. But I hope you don’t talk to those kids at the library that way. A mouth like that, you might scare them.” To her surprise, a tiny grin flashed across his mouth, then disappeared. “You can call me Michael.”

He pulled her out the door on the passenger side and eased the door closed behind her. She looked up to see that they were standing in front of another abandoned building.

Like the others, this one was completely dark and obviously empty. The thought of walking into that darkness made her shake so badly she could hardly stand.

“I’m not going in there.”

“I don’t remember giving you a choice. And we’re sure as hell not going to stand on the street and discuss it,” he said. “I need to fetch what I came for and get out of here.”

He gripped her arm more tightly and started moving toward the building. The door hung crookedly on broken hinges and she stared in horror at the darkness beyond it. The impenetrable blackness shimmered as if alive.

Fear pressed down on her, crushing her chest. Her vision grayed and her head spun. Oblivious to his hands holding her, she turned and stumbled away from the door. “I’ll wait in the car,” she said, her voice high and thin.

He snorted. “Forget it. I may be a scumbag, but I’m not a stupid scumbag.”

When he tugged on her arm, she wrenched away from him and ran blindly down the street. She had no idea where she was going and didn’t care. She had to get away from the darkness.

It took only a few moments for him to catch her. He grabbed her upper arms and held on tightly, the calluses on his palms grazing her skin. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” he asked, his voice a low snarl. “I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

She couldn’t answer. As he pulled her closer to the door, she struggled frantically against his grasp, lashing out blindly with her fists and feet.

“Hey, take it easy,” he said. His grip gentled and confusion replaced the anger in his voice. “What’s going on?”

When she continued to struggle, he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her against his body and immobilizing her hands. “Stop it, Eleanor. Listen to me! I’m not going to hurt you!”

She tried to push him away, but his body was solid and hard against her back, a wall of muscle and determination.

When she continued to fight, he merely tightened his hold on her. Finally, when she was squeezed intimately against him and suddenly very aware of every ridge and contour of his body, she stopped struggling.

The heavy summer air swirled around her, making her conscious of the heat radiating from Michael’s body. His pungent male scent and the hardness of his lean muscles surrounded her. Sudden, acute awareness of his masculinity flooded her. The sensation was as uncomfortable and unwelcome as her previous terror.

“You can let me go now,” she muttered.

“Not until you tell me what the hell is wrong with you.”

She jerked free of his grasp, telling herself the unexpected feeling was just nerves. “You mean other than the fact that I’ve been kidnapped and manhandled?”

“Yeah. Other than that.” He held her gaze steadily.

“I’m afraid of the dark, all right? Are you happy now?” she said, ashamed to admit to her childish fear. But she couldn’t control it. As she stared at the darkness, memories crowded in around her, enveloping her in a smothering blanket of terror.

“Damn it!” He let loose a string of curses in a low voice. “You can mouth off to a desperate man with a gun, but you can’t walk into a dark building?”

“No.”

He swore again, then sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. “Why did I have to pick a neurotic woman who’s afraid of the dark?”

“I didn’t ask you to pick me,” she retorted, feeling her panic ease since he wasn’t dragging her toward the door of the building.

“Yeah, well, I made a mistake,” he muttered. “But there’s nothing I can do about it now. You’re just going to have to suck it up and come with me. We won’t be in there for very long.”

Before she could refuse, he’d grabbed her arm again and dragged her through the door into the inky blackness.

Easing the door shut, he stepped nearer to her. “I’m right here,” he said in a low voice. “Stay close to me and you’ll be fine. Here, take my hand.”

Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears that she hardly heard him. But his hand brushed hers and she grabbed for it without thinking. She needed contact, needed to know she wasn’t alone. His fingers twined with hers, and he held her hand in a firm but oddly gentle grasp. To stop her hand from shaking, she pressed her palm against his. He hesitated for a moment, then tightened his grasp. Her fear eased slightly.

“All right now?”

His words echoed loudly in the darkness and shattered the fragile spell between them. Once again she was trapped in a dark place with a man aiming a gun at her. Eleanor swallowed and tried to focus on the weak light filtering through the broken windows. “I’m fine,” she lied.

“Then let’s go. I have a flashlight close by. But you’re going to have to take a few steps with me.”

She tried to banish the fear and will her legs to move. It wasn’t completely black inside the building, she told herself. After a moment, her eyes began adjusting, and she could make out ghostly shapes in front of her.

“That’s the old shelving,” Michael said in a low voice, as if he could read her mind. “This used to be a factory. It’s been empty for several years.”

“Why are we here?” she asked, forcing the words through chattering teeth. She wasn’t sure which made her more afraid, the darkness or the possible reasons they were in this empty building.

“I told you, I have to get something.” He stopped moving and turned to her. The whites of his eyes gleamed, his face nothing more than a shadow. “I meant it when I said I don’t intend to hurt you. I know what you’re thinking, but that’s not why we’re in this building.”

“What do you have to get?” She didn’t believe him, she told herself flatly. What could there possibly be in this empty building?

“You don’t have to know that.” He continued to watch her. “Can you keep moving?”

Somehow she nodded. “Yes.” She couldn’t bear to think about the alternative, which was standing still and listening to the blood thundering through her veins.

“Good.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I knew you were tough, Eleanor.”

Her heart jumped in her chest with an odd flutter of pride. The next moment she told herself not to be an idiot. What did she care about words of praise from a carjacker? All she cared about was getting away from him as soon as possible.

Gathering her wits, she saw a large broken window on the other side of the building. If she could get to it she could escape from this space, and from him. And if she could get enough of a head start, she could find the spare key she kept in a magnetized box under her car. With a little luck, she could be away from this nightmare in a couple of minutes.

Could she run through her fear? Yes, she could. She had no choice. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then turned to look at him. “You don’t have to hold on to me anymore. I’m not going to fall apart.”

He turned to study her. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” Tentatively, he let go of her hand.

She watched him steadily, and as soon as he turned his attention away from her, she shoved him as hard as she could.