Dark Summer

CHAPTER 10

NINE twenty…

She had slept for hours, Devon realized drowsily. The room was dark except for the pale moonlight streaming through the window. She had been too on edge to go to sleep immediately, her mind had been in turmoil and her emotions stretched to the limit. Sheer exhaustion had finally prevailed.

And she felt better now, calmer, more able to manage this horror of a situation. God help her, she'd better be able to cope. She felt as if she'd been more of a sounding board than an active player. That had to stop.

She sat up in bed and swung her feet to the floor. Take a shower, dress, and grab a sandwich from the refrigerator. Then she'd be ready to deal with Marrok.

But Marrok didn't seem to be around to be dealt with. The house appeared to be empty. Where the hell was he? She'd try the bunkhouse. She wanted to see Nick and Janet anyway. After eating a ham sandwich and drinking a glass of milk, she went out on the porch.

"Sleeping beauty is awake at last." Lincoln was standing at the far end of the porch. "Rest well?"

"Yes." She said. "But I'm no beauty, and this is no fairy tale."

"I beg to differ. You're not my type, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and it's obvious that Marrok finds you very attractive." He tilted his head. "I can see how he'd be drawn to you. The rule of opposites."

"Where is Marrok?"

"He took off with Walt Franks several hours ago. I think he's checking up on his canine charges."

"Don't you know?"

"Marrok keeps me as much in the dark as possible. I believe the dogs may be scattered within a few hundred miles' radius but that's all." He smiled. "And Marrok is exceptionally good at making sure I remain in ignorance. I can't tell you how often I've tried to bug his helicopter or car. He's always found me out."

"No wonder he doesn't trust you."

"Trust doesn't enter into our relationship." He leaned against the porch railing. "You have to have a code to define the rules. Marrok has no code. He grew up as a savage, and that hasn't changed with the years."

"I think it has."

"But you don't know him as well as I do. He hasn't been anything but obstructive since the day he came into my office."

"Which means you didn't get your way," she guessed shrewdly.

"Very good." He chuckled. "But my way is the right way, the civilized way. Marrok should no more have control of those dogs than Danner. They have no background or experience to make the necessary judgments."

"And you do?"

"Modesty prevents me from-Yes, I could do it. Given the chance I could do the job. My superiors have total faith in me."

"And what would you do with Ned and the others?"

"We would be humane."

"Would you kill them? Experiment?"

"Only if it was necessary. The stakes are bigger than you could imagine. I realize such an admission could alienate you, but I want to be totally honest."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to get in my way," he said bluntly. "Stay out of it. Marrok sucked you into his ugly little world, and I can see he holds a certain fascination for you. You didn't like it when he sent you away."

"I don't like orders."

"If that's all, then I'll be very happy. But I believe it's more. Women do seem to be drawn by the primitive type. I have no idea why."

"This conversation is totally absurd."

"But it had to be said. I'd prefer you to realize that Marrok will be brought down. Either by me or Danner. There's no doubt about that."

"But in the meantime, you're still going to help him?"

"We have to hedge our bets. Marrok is clever. There's a remote possibility he could still come out on top." His smile faded. "And he's unpredictable. Just when you think he's cornered, he manages to slip away and strike like a snake. He proved that in Ethiopia."

"Ethiopia? What are you talking about?"

"All I asked of Marrok was that he do a simple job. After all, he owed it to us."

She remembered something Marrok had said. "Your pound of flesh?"

"What a gory phrase."

"No more gory than what you'd inflict on those dogs."

"I told you, I'd try to be humane."

"How hard would you try? As hard as Marrok?"

"I'm afraid not. One has to be objective, and Marrok is all emotion and no objectivity."

She had a sudden memory of Ned gazing up at her with eyes that were full of love and sadness and strange wisdom. She said curtly, "Screw your objectivity."

"That's what I would expect of a woman of your background. But in the end I'm sure you'll see the light. It's the only sensible method to secure a valuable commodity like-" He broke off, his head lifting. "I think I hear the chopper. I'm afraid our little discussion is at an end. But it was enlightening for both of us, wasn't it? It's always good to have an understanding."

"Yes, I do understand you, Lincoln."

He nodded. "Then I'll say good night. Tell Marrok I'll see him in the morning. Since my job is to stand by, I'll stand by here and await developments."

"Why not tell him yourself?"

"It won't be news to him. We spoke while you were taking your nap. He wants me to go, but that's not an option now that there's a chance that Danner may take the dogs."

"And by staying here you're hoping to find the location of the other dogs."

"There's always that possibility. Or there's sometimes a break in the ranks, and I may get a little help." He turned away. "But I'm not going to get that help from you, am I?"

"Not one iota of help."

He sighed. "Too bad. But it's not unexpected. You damned animal lovers have been a great source of disappointment to me in this trying situation." The screen door closed behind him.

My God, what a conniving son of a bitch. She could see why Bridget had said Marrok was used to walking tightropes when even his supposed ally was waiting for his chance to slip in the knife. Even Lincoln's frankness had been aimed in only one direction. He had been testing the waters, observing her reactions, trying to find a weakness.

"Devon."

She turned to see Marrok crossing the paddock toward her. She felt a rush of relief. She hadn't known she had felt uneasy about his absence. It couldn't be because she was worried about him. It was just that he seemed to be the center of all this madness swirling about her, then he was suddenly gone. She started down the stairs. "I was just going down to the bunkhouse." She bent down to pet Ned, who had run to her. "Hello, boy, want to go down and see Gracie?"

"I'm sure he does. I'll go with you."

She straightened. "So that your guards won't have to stop me?"

He smiled. "I have to protect them. You threatened to deck them."

She had forgotten that threat. It seemed a long time ago. "I don't see them anywhere around."

"They're on watch. I told them to keep a low profile." He paused. "I saw Lincoln go into the house."

"Yes. He told me you'd probably gone to check up on the dogs. Are they okay?"

"Fine. I just had to hand out a warning that I'd be moving the dogs and see if their caretakers wanted to back out of the job."

"Did they?"

"No, they're crazy about the dogs. They wouldn't desert them." He paused. "I imagine Lincoln was talking about more than my trip. No matter what he promises, don't trust him, Devon."

"What do you think he promised me?"

"I don't know. To get you away from here, to put you in a witness protection program."

"He didn't promise me anything. He just talked about you and your total inability to take charge of the panacea." She looked straight ahead. "It seems you have no code and are completely uncivilized. You don't play by the rules."

"That's right."

"What happened in Ethiopia?"

"What did he tell you happened?"

"Nothing. He just mentioned it. But he was very pissed."

Marrok smiled with satisfaction. "Good."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"Why not? It will just give you another example of how Lincoln is right about me not playing the game properly. Two years ago, Lincoln sent me and Ned to Ethiopia on a nasty little job. It wasn't the first time, but this one was particularly ugly."

"Lincoln's pound of flesh?"

"That covers it. Even after MI6 came on board and agreed to shelter us, I knew that there would be a price. The prospect of taking over the panacea was too vague. They wanted immediate gratification. Ned was a valuable commodity and should be used to the hilt."

"How?"

"Sometimes the balance of power in a country rests on a particular person or event. In Ethiopia, MI6 was backing and promoting Zafur Carmak to eventually take over the country. He was a bandit whose primary income came from stealing food supplies donated by various countries and charity organizations and selling them on the black market. Some of the other things he did made Idi Amin look like a saint. But MI6 thought they could control him, and that it would be the way to control the flow of terrorists using Ethiopia as a training ground."

"Dear God." She had seen photos of the starving children of Ethiopia. "What kind of a trade-off is that?"

"Not an unusual one." His lips hardened. "But this time Lincoln had the bright idea of bringing Ned and me in to lend a little assistance."

"Why?"

"Zafur was dying. He had AIDS. He wasn't going to last another two weeks. Lincoln and his team would have had to find and groom another scumbag to use. He flew us into the country and had us driven to Zafur's palace. Ned and I spent the night in his room."

"Ned cured him?"

"Zafur was on his feet and spitting out orders to his men when I left. It was dawn, and Lincoln's men drove me over those parched cracked plains to the helicopter. It was a mistake. In the daylight, you could see the hundreds of huddled families by the roadside. Skin and bones. Malnourished children with swollen bellies. Flies everywhere. I made the van stop once to let Ned and me out and we walked among them. I thought maybe it would help a little. But Lincoln's men hustled us back into the van after twenty minutes. That's not what we'd been brought in the country for, and they wanted to get us out." He leaned down and stroked Ned's silky, black head. "You wanted to stay, didn't you, boy? I did, too. I looked at those people, and I remembered Zafur and how Ned had been used to probably put him back in action so that he could steal more food. It made me angry. Very, very, angry."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing. I got on the plane and left the country."

She stared at him in disbelief.

He shrugged. "There was nothing to do then. It would have been an exercise in futility. I took Ned back to Bridget."

"That wouldn't have made Lincoln pissed at you."

He smiled. "I waited two weeks, then I went back to Ethiopia. I stalked Zafur like the hyena he was and killed the son of a bitch. What Ned and I had given, I took away. Poor Lincoln, I blew all his plans for Zafur to hell. He was a bit upset with me."

"What did he do?"

"Raved and ranted. I listened until he stopped sputtering, then I asked him to tell me which one of us was the real savage." He stopped as they reached the bunkhouse. "He's sent us out on other jobs since then, but he's been very careful at choosing them."

"And never stopped hating your guts."

"There was a certain amount of humiliation connected with the fiasco. Lincoln doesn't like to be humiliated." His gazed shifted to her face. "And I don't like the dogs or the shi'i'go to be misused. Ethiopia reinforced my skepticism at the idea that it was safe to trust anyone else with them."

She could see that an experience that devastating would cause Marrok's determination to harden irrevocably. "I can understand how it would be a deal breaker. I'm surprised you're still working with Lincoln."

"In spite of the fact that he thinks I'm too volatile, I don't do anything stupid that might hurt the guardians. When they need help, they're going to get it."

"The guardians. You were talking about needing a guardian for Ned in the car last night."

"I was a little woozy. I take care of Ned."

"These guardians take care of the other dogs?"

He nodded. "When I knew I'd have to separate the dogs, I had to pick three other people I could trust to take care of them. It wasn't an easy choice."

"Did they know about Danner?"

"Not in the beginning. I wanted the situation solid before I brought in a disturbing element."

She stared at him. "You bastard."

He nodded. "I searched hard until I found guardians with just the right mixture of gentleness and toughness. I didn't want to blow it. I knew it would be all right later."

"Because you knew they'd grow to love their dogs and would run the risk." She added, "Just the way you risked my life without explaining zilch."

"I had to protect the dogs. I gave my word."

"Good God, and who is going to protect the rest of the world from you, Marrok?"

"I don't know." He was silent a moment before he said awkwardly, "I wouldn't risk you again, Devon. I want… to take care of you."

"It's a little late." But his halting words were causing her to feel strange, vulnerable, a melting. "And I don't need anyone to take care of me."

"I don't care about your need. I want to do it."

"Marrok, that's the most incoherent… listen to yourself."

"I know. I'm a little off-balance." He reached out a hand and delicately stroked her throat. "I've done a lot of things that you'd have never done. Danner and Lincoln are both right about me. I've always been selfish and unstable and ready to explode at the first sign of things not going right." He said softly, "But it won't happen again with you."

She moistened her lips. "Wouldn't it?"

"I like to touch you. My fingertips are tingling…"

And her skin was tingling beneath his fingers. She couldn't breathe…

His fingers dropped to the hollow of her throat. "Your pulse is beating hard. I did that, didn't I?" He rubbed lazily, sensuously. "Come on, harder…"

Her heart was already beating so hard that she could scarcely take a breath. "What are you doing, Marrok?" she asked shakily.

"I'm not sure. Probably something I shouldn't." His head lowered, and his lips brushed her temple. "I told you, I've never been good at controlling myself."

And she had always been very good at that since leaving Lester, she thought hazily. Where had that control gone? The moment he had touched her, she had gone up in smoke. "I don't want this, Marrok."

"Yes, you do." His tongue was touching her ear. "Be honest with me. I'm being honest with you. I want to drag you into the field and screw you until we both go crazy. I'll make it good for you. Tell me to do it."

She was shuddering. His words, his touch, his breath on her temple…

"Just say yes," he whispered. "One word…"

Yes. Yes. Yes.

And she opened her lips to say that word.

Casper brayed in the paddock.

God in heaven, what was she doing? She drew a shaky breath and pushed him away. "This doesn't make any sense."

"No." He smiled recklessly. "Let's do it anyway."

She shook her head. "I don't do one-night stands." She took a step back. "I'm not one of those town girls you used to take up to Paco's cave. I'm boringly conventional."

He tilted his head and gazed at her. "Your cheeks are flushed, and you're still shaking. You're as hot for me as I am for you. I could probably persuade you."

"Maybe." She stared him in the eye. "But you said you wanted to take care of me, protect me. Is screwing me how you'd go about it?"

His smile faded. "Low blow. Can't I do both?"

For a moment she could almost see the reckless, hungry kid who wanted the whole world and tried to devour it. "No, you can't do either." She took a deep breath. "I'm trying to come out of this with as few scars as possible. Don't make another move on me, Marrok."

"No promises. I still think a roll in the hay would be therapeutic for both of us. Besides the fact that I get hot every time I look at you, and I need it like hell." He paused. "But I'll wait until the move is a little more welcome." He turned away. "I'll let you go back to the house alone. We're both still in the zone. I'm no good with restraint." He suddenly looked back at her. "It was the damn donkey, wasn't it? I almost had you until he cut loose."

"Yes, it was Casper."

He shook his head. "I never did like donkeys."

She was smothering a smile as she watched him walk away. She wanted to call him back, she realized with shock. Her body was still ready for him. Cripes, he'd barely touched her, and she had been ready to let him screw her. How long had it been since she'd felt like that? Her ex-husband, Les? No, that had been experimental teenage sex, then fighting his overwhelming obsession. This intense, roller-coaster sensuality bore no similarity to anything she'd felt before. The chemistry was different, hotter, explosive, bewildering, yet crystal clear at the same time.

And she'd be very wise to stand firm and far away from that chemistry.

There was a whining inside the bunkhouse.

Gracie.

She quietly opened the door and let the greyhound out.

Gracie leaped for her, making low, happy sounds, her entire narrow back end wagging ecstatically.

"Shh, Gracie," Devon whispered as she fell to her knees. "It's a little late. I don't know if anyone's awake in there." She hugged her. "I missed you, too."

Gracie gave a low howl and nestled closer.

"Yes, it's okay now." She stroked Gracie's sleek coat. "Calm down." She sat down cross-legged on the ground, and Gracie plopped down beside her. "Ned almost paid you a visit, but Marrok had to leave and took him with him. He'll be back. Things got a little… confusing." What wasn't different and confusing since Santa Marina? She had a sudden memory of something Bridget had said. "Are you confused, too? Bridget said the rescue missions bothered you. Was she right?" She wasn't expecting Gracie to respond, but it felt good to get it out. "I don't know whether to believe her, but I guess I've got to keep a closer eye on you. I don't want you hurting. It's okay if you don't like it. I'll still love you."

Gracie whined happily and rolled over on her back with her four feet straight up in the air. She always did that when she wanted her tummy scratched. Devon obliged, then tugged at her paw. "Come on. Let's go see if Nick and Janet are awake."

DAMN, HE'D ACTED AS CARELESS and raunchy as an eighteen-year-old, Marrok thought in disgust as he strode toward the house. Why be surprised? He was raunchy. But he wasn't careless, not any longer. He'd been through the fires and come out with a knowledge of what being careless could mean. But that moment with Devon had brought back all the dizzying sensuality of that younger Marrok.

Not good. He had to send her away, and sex would only make it more difficult.

And it didn't matter to him. He was hurting. He wanted to reach out and grab and play and hold on. She'd been right to step back because he sure as hell wasn't going to back off. Give him the chance, and he'd be right back, prowling around her like a tomcat. Dammit, she didn't deserve that from him. For once, why couldn't he forget what he wanted and think of Devon?

But she wanted it, too. And he could make her want it more. Go back. Take what he wanted and to hell with-

His cell phone rang. Bridget. He stabbed the button. "What's happening?"

Silence. "What's happening there? You sound as if you were in the thick of something. Did I interrupt?"

"I wish." He asked again, "What's going on? Trouble?"

"A little. Not Danner. But the security guards around this estate are keeping me running from place to place. I can't keep a good eye on Addie. Can you pull them off me?"

"If I can think of a way. The situation is delicate."

"Don't try, do it. You won't let me get rid of them myself, so it's up to you."

"Thanks a lot."

"You're the one who set Addie up here. Now deal with it."

"What a bossy bit of goods you are."

"That's what you need." Bridget chuckled. "I've decided that's why I was sent into your life. You've had things too much your own way, you strong-willed bastard. You had to have someone like me around to calm you down and help you grow up."

"I beg your pardon?" he asked with soft menace.

"See, you're even learning politeness," Bridget said slyly. "But you're short on obedience. I'll have to work on that. Now get those security guards off me before we have an incident." She hung up.

Marrok muttered a curse as he hung up, then a reluctant smile curved his lips. Bridget's occasional flashes of puckish humor didn't always come at the right time. She was always her own woman and totally in de pen dent, but she didn't often try to jab at him as she had tonight. Maybe it was a good thing that she no longer seemed to be brooding about Fraser's death.

But that didn't mean she wouldn't be after him tooth and nail if he didn't do what she asked. Bridget might think he was too strong-willed and lacking in diplomacy, but he'd been walking a fine line with Addie's guardian. Now he either had to think of a way to keep the status quo or establish a new base.

Whichever route he decided to take, it had better be quick.

"YOU WERE DOWN THERE A long time. Almost three hours." Marrok was sitting in the rocking chair at the far end of the porch when Devon started up the steps. "I was wondering if you'd decided to cling to old friends in the middle of the storm."

Devon tensed. She had hoped she wouldn't have to face Marrok tonight. Talking to Nick and Janet had quieted and distracted her. She didn't want to be plunged back into the haze of sensuality that had shaken and disturbed her. "I'm not in the middle of a storm."

"No? I am." He made a face. "And I'm not talking about shi'i'go. I want this storm. I want to drown in it, burn in it." He saw the almost imperceptible change in her demeanor. "Yes, I'm being shallow and immature and selfish. Ask Bridget, she'd agree with me."

"As far as I know, Bridget isn't here to ask anything. Good night, Marrok."

"Stay. I didn't sit out here waiting to launch an attack on that front." He leaned back in the chair, and his face was once more in shadow. "I want to know about Lester Enright."

She stiffened and then vehemently shook her head. "Good night."

"For God's sake, talk to me. I was going to play it cool and let you keep your blasted privacy, but I can't do it. It's eating at me. You know everything there is to know about me. I need to know about Enright."

"Why?"

He was silent, then burst out, "It's bothering me, okay? Lincoln gave me the bare bones, but I need you to fill in the blanks."

"Lincoln told you about Lester in that dossier?"

"Not at first. I told Lincoln to go back to the well after I saw Enright on CNN."

"And that's why you wanted me to leave you alone with Lincoln? You wanted to question him about me?"

"Among other things."

"Why? It's none of your damn business."

He scowled. "I didn't like Enright."

"So you were trying to get something on him?"

"Maybe. And later when I mentioned him, I didn't think you liked him that much either. So tell me why you don't like him. Tell me why he lied."

"You tell me why I should confide in you about anything."

"Because Lincoln told me that you filed a restraining order against him a year after you divorced him in San Antonio, Texas. He said that the order was dropped when Enright went before the judge and swore you were having mental problems."

She smiled bitterly. "God knows that was the truth."

"No way."

"There are all kinds of mental problems, Marrok. I was in a deep depression."

"Why?"

She didn't answer.

"Dammit, let me help you."

"It's not your concern."

"Okay, you won't talk?" He leaned forward out of the shadow and she could see the recklessness in his expression. "I'll just go and cut the son of a bitch's balls off."

"Marrok."

"Sounds to me like a good idea. I don't really need to know anything more."

His dark eyes were glittering, his lips tight, and the muscles of his body were coiled and ready to spring. Devon had never seen him look more lethal. "Why are you reacting like this?"

"I'm jealous as hell. And for some reason it makes me crazy that I wasn't there to protect you all those years ago."

"That is crazy."

"Why were you in a state of depression?"

He wasn't going to give up. "I'd lost a child the year before."

He didn't speak for a moment. "Enright's child?"

"Yes."

He was silent again. "That had to be right before your divorce."

"Yes."

"How did it happen?"

Oh what the hell. Just tell him and get it over with. "I'd found out I was having the child, and I was leaving him. I'd been trying to cope with his obsessive behavior, but I wasn't going to make my child suffer. I wanted that baby. He went into a rage and hit me. I ran out of the house and jumped into my car. He followed me and ran me off the road." She tried to steady her voice as the pain of that night came back to her. "I was four months pregnant. I lost the child."

"Bastard."

Her lips twisted. "He thought he was in the right. Lester always thought he was right, and everyone else was wrong. In his eyes I was the one who was at fault. I'd killed his baby, and I had to pay for it."

"Harassment?"

"Ugly phone calls, visits in the middle of the night, demands that I come back to him. He got it into his head that I owed him another child since I'd killed his. Lester can be very clever, very believable, even appealing. It's not surprising that the judge at the hearing thought I was the one who was unbalanced. I was very…" She searched for the right word to describe that nightmare period. "Fragile at that time. I left town after the court hearing, but he found me. He always finds me. But after I bought the practice from Nick, I stopped running. I wanted my life back. Lester showed up in Denver three years ago, but he's been more careful this time. He could see I wasn't that bewildered woman he'd victimized any longer. I can take the malicious phone calls as long as he leaves the people I care about alone. I learned to live with it."

"Why? The answer is so simple. You should have hired a hit man to deep-six the bastard." He shook his head. "No, you couldn't do that, could you? Don't worry. If I decide to step in, you'll never know."

"Marrok, Lester is my problem. I'll handle it."

"Enright is claiming that you're going back to him. What's he up to?"

"I don't know. I don't like it."

"Neither do I. So it's okay if I kill the son of a bitch?"

She sighed. "No, it's not. I'm tired of all this violence. If you want to go out and kill someone, I can't stop you. But not for me, Marrok. Never for me."

"Only for you," he said quietly.

She inhaled sharply. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't look away from him. "I've told you what you want to know. I'm going to bed now."

"Not yet."

"I'm not going to tell you anything more about Lester."

"I'm done with Enright. Well, not yet, but I won't involve you." He paused. "I have another problem I have to solve, and it suddenly occurred to me that I could solve another at the same time." He added harshly, "But, dammit, I don't want to solve it this way. I want my chance at you."

"I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Lust, death, security. You name it." His hand tightened on the wooden arm of the chair. "I think I've found a safety net for you. It's not foolproof. I'd be hiding you in plain sight."

"Where?"

"Carmel. With Addie's guardian. Bridget just called complaining about the depth of security she's facing. Danner will try to strike there, but he'd have massive problems. You'd probably be safer there than anywhere else. You'll be out of it."

She felt a sudden hollowness. "How long would I have to be there?"

"Until it's over. Until Danner is dead. Until I have to move the dogs again."

"You're going to move them?"

"I'll have to do it. I could see it coming. Even without Danner to worry about, there's always Lincoln and whoever else in MI6 has a file. I'm lucky to have been given this many years."

"What about Nick and Janet?"

"I'll try to arrange a package deal." He paused. "It's up to you."

"It always was."

Out of it. He'd said she'd be free of the turmoil and danger that surrounded her and the people she cared about. The dogs of summer weren't her problem or responsibility. Marrok would care for them as he had done for so many years.

And she would not have to face the emotional havoc that was beginning to tear at her when she was with Marrok. Eventually, she could go back to the life she had led before. That was what she wanted, wasn't it? That was the path she should take for all their sakes.

"Well?"

"When would I have to go?"

"Day after tomorrow at the latest. I'm going to Carmel in the morning to set it up."

She thought about it. Why was she hesitating? "I can't make a decision without knowing the circumstances. I won't go anywhere blindly. I've had enough of that."

"Then come with me tomorrow."

She didn't speak for a moment. "I will." The commitment didn't bring her any sense of relief. She felt as if she had taken a step back rather than forward. "What time in the morning?"

"Seven."

She turned toward the door. "I'll meet you here."

"Wait."

She looked back over her shoulder. He'd leaned back into the shadow again, and she could no longer see his eyes. It should have been a relief, but she still was aware of everything about him. She could feel the tension, the watchfulness, the physical impact of his every move.

"I didn't want to offer you a way out," he said roughly. "I was hoping you'd say no. But then that's the kind of bastard I am."

And she'd been tempted to say no, she realized. Crazy. "Seven."

She shut the door and headed for her bedroom.

Ned was lying in front of her door. "What are you doing here? Go back to Marrok."

His tail thumped on the floor.

"Okay, come in with me. I'm a little lonely. Gracie is keeping Janet company these days. Maybe Janet's a little lonely, too."

Ned ran into the room and jumped in the easy chair. Devon knelt down and stroked him. He whined low in his throat and looked up at her. All that love and gentleness and willingness to share…

And he'd been shot once and would be a target as long as Danner was alive. And what about afterward? Who could be trusted not to take the easy way to get that panacea? Just kill the dog. So simple a solution.

Fury seared through her at the thought, and her arms closed around his lean body. "It's not right. It won't happen again," she whispered. "I won't let them hurt you, Ned."