people she wanted to see.
âPerfect timing,â Jon said, glancing around at her over his shoulder. A few quick steps had put her right behind him, so close that her nose was in danger of flattening itself on his slender, tropical wool-clad back. He was clearly unaware of the drama that was playing out behind him, of the oncoming men, of her urgent wish to escape. Caught up in the throng crowding into the elevator, he paused courteously to allow a pair of elderly women to precede him. Ordinarily, Maddie would have awarded him brownie points for the gentlemanly gesture. Today, stuck behind him, she had to fight the urge to place the flat of both hands in the center of his back and shove. Hard.
Hurry, hurry, hurry. The refrain beat urgently through her brain.
Jon moved at last, clearly one of the final few who were going to make it into the crowded car, then turned to face her, edging back just enough to create a place for her at the very front. In her haste to join him, Maddie got the corner of her full-to-bursting briefcase hung up on the door.
âPiece of crap,â she muttered furiously. Forced to pause long enough to jerk the thrice-damned thing free, she was just about to step into the elevator when a hand caught her arm from behind. Maddie let loose with a sound that was more squeak than scream and practically jumped out of her skin. The strong fingers that gripped her firmly just above her elbow hung on. Her stomach sank as she realized that sheâd just been effectively stopped in her tracks.
âMadeline Fitzgerald?â A deep, southern-tinged voice asked.
âHey!â Jon said sharply, starting forward as he realized what was happening at last. Maddie whipped around, inadvertently clearing a circle in the crowd around her with her ungainly briefcase. From the corner of her eye she caught just a glimpse of Jonâs startled expression as the elevator doors slid closed in his face. Then just like that he was gone, and she was on her own. With the elevator no longer available, everyone around her seemed to simply disperse. Everyone, that is, except the guy holding on to her arm.
âLet go of me.â
It was all she could do to keep the panic out of her voice. Instinctively, she jerked her arm free and moved back until she could feel the smooth, slick coolness of the marble wall against her shoulder blades. Left with no place to go, she pressed her briefcase up against her legs like a shield. Her gaze collided with narrowed eyes the color of black coffee.
âMadeline Fitzgerald?â he asked for the second time. From the dispassionate but assessing way his eyes were moving over her, she was all but certain that her original estimate was correct: This guy had law enforcement written all over him.
Her heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest.
âWho wants to know?â she parried, knowing that her response was a throwback to her younger days, knowing that it was all wrong for who she was now, for who she aspired to be. But she couldnât help it, sheâd been caught by surprise, she was rattled and still recovering from last night and definitely not in control. He frowned at her, his eyes narrowing still more as they held her gaze. He wasâno surpriseâthe black-haired half of the pair whoâd come chasing after her across the lobby. The mean-looking one.
âFBI,â said the other, fair-haired half of the pair as he came panting up in time to hear her question.
FBI. Maddieâs stomach dropped all the way to her toes. This was far worse even than she had expected, worse than she would have dreamed. Suddenly unable to draw a breath, she glanced his way. He opened the wallet that was already in his hand to flash somethingâMaddie presumed it was his IDâat her. Panic swamped her, leaving her too unnerved to focus, much less to try to ascertain whether or not whatever he was waving in her face was the real thing. This guy was huge,
âPerfect timing,â Jon said, glancing around at her over his shoulder. A few quick steps had put her right behind him, so close that her nose was in danger of flattening itself on his slender, tropical wool-clad back. He was clearly unaware of the drama that was playing out behind him, of the oncoming men, of her urgent wish to escape. Caught up in the throng crowding into the elevator, he paused courteously to allow a pair of elderly women to precede him. Ordinarily, Maddie would have awarded him brownie points for the gentlemanly gesture. Today, stuck behind him, she had to fight the urge to place the flat of both hands in the center of his back and shove. Hard.
Hurry, hurry, hurry. The refrain beat urgently through her brain.
Jon moved at last, clearly one of the final few who were going to make it into the crowded car, then turned to face her, edging back just enough to create a place for her at the very front. In her haste to join him, Maddie got the corner of her full-to-bursting briefcase hung up on the door.
âPiece of crap,â she muttered furiously. Forced to pause long enough to jerk the thrice-damned thing free, she was just about to step into the elevator when a hand caught her arm from behind. Maddie let loose with a sound that was more squeak than scream and practically jumped out of her skin. The strong fingers that gripped her firmly just above her elbow hung on. Her stomach sank as she realized that sheâd just been effectively stopped in her tracks.
âMadeline Fitzgerald?â A deep, southern-tinged voice asked.
âHey!â Jon said sharply, starting forward as he realized what was happening at last. Maddie whipped around, inadvertently clearing a circle in the crowd around her with her ungainly briefcase. From the corner of her eye she caught just a glimpse of Jonâs startled expression as the elevator doors slid closed in his face. Then just like that he was gone, and she was on her own. With the elevator no longer available, everyone around her seemed to simply disperse. Everyone, that is, except the guy holding on to her arm.
âLet go of me.â
It was all she could do to keep the panic out of her voice. Instinctively, she jerked her arm free and moved back until she could feel the smooth, slick coolness of the marble wall against her shoulder blades. Left with no place to go, she pressed her briefcase up against her legs like a shield. Her gaze collided with narrowed eyes the color of black coffee.
âMadeline Fitzgerald?â he asked for the second time. From the dispassionate but assessing way his eyes were moving over her, she was all but certain that her original estimate was correct: This guy had law enforcement written all over him.
Her heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest.
âWho wants to know?â she parried, knowing that her response was a throwback to her younger days, knowing that it was all wrong for who she was now, for who she aspired to be. But she couldnât help it, sheâd been caught by surprise, she was rattled and still recovering from last night and definitely not in control. He frowned at her, his eyes narrowing still more as they held her gaze. He wasâno surpriseâthe black-haired half of the pair whoâd come chasing after her across the lobby. The mean-looking one.
âFBI,â said the other, fair-haired half of the pair as he came panting up in time to hear her question.
FBI. Maddieâs stomach dropped all the way to her toes. This was far worse even than she had expected, worse than she would have dreamed. Suddenly unable to draw a breath, she glanced his way. He opened the wallet that was already in his hand to flash somethingâMaddie presumed it was his IDâat her. Panic swamped her, leaving her too unnerved to focus, much less to try to ascertain whether or not whatever he was waving in her face was the real thing. This guy was huge,
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