Anthology - A Colton Family Christmas p.04

Chapter 4

Julianna glanced around the command center and frowned. Something was wrong. Outwardly, everything seemed perfectly normal, but there was an increased tension in the air, and she didn’t have a clue why. Where were Kurt and Tom? They both should have been back by now. Any second now, Kartoff—or whatever his real name was—was going to call, wanting some answers about the CFF’s demands, and she didn’t have any. And that left her in a vulnerable position when it came to negotiating. How could she negotiate a deal when she didn’t know what her options were?

Lost in her musings and scowling down at the red phone that linked her to the house, she didn’t see Tom and Kurt crossing the compound toward her until they were almost upon her. “Thank God!” she breathed. “Where have you two been? Kartoff’s going to call any minute, and I don’t know what to say to him.”

“We’ve got another complication,” Tom said gravely. “We’ve had reports that there are bombs on all the bridges leading into D.C. from Virginia. It’s probably just a prank, but we have to take it seriously. We’ve got to shut down the bridges, Julianna.”

“What? You can’t! What if Ritka is still in Alexandria? It’ll be hours before he’ll be able to get here.”

“It gets worse,” Kurt said, his expression as grim as Tom’s. “One of the Ritkas’ former neighbors said they spoke to Eva before she went into the mansion right after the reception started. The elderly neighbor said Eva mentioned she was back to pick up something she’d left behind in the move. The neighbor never saw her leave.”

Julianna paled. “There has to be some kind of mistake. If she arrived right after the reception started, she had plenty of time to collect her things before the terrorists broke up the wedding. What’s she been doing all this time?”

“I’d like to know the answer to that, myself,” Tom said.

Julianna knew as well as the two men did that there was a chance they’d never get to ask Eva Ritka that or any other question. The terrorists obviously wanted to get their hands on her father. If they discovered they had Ritka’s daughter, Julianna didn’t even want to think what they might do to her in revenge for whatever wrong they thought Ritka had done to them.

Suddenly, the phone linking the command center to the house rang. For a long moment, the three of them just stood there, knowing that Kartoff could be calling to inform them that the CFF no longer needed Ritka now that they had his daughter.

Her heart slamming hard against her ribs, Julianna still somehow managed to answer the phone with a voice that was as calm as a saint’s. “This is Julianna Stevens. What can I do for you, Mr. Kartoff?”

If he was surprised that she’d figured out his name, he gave no sign of it. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear, Miss Stevens,” he said in a tone that was as cold as hell. “We want Helmut Ritka, and you’ve had more than enough time to produce him. If he is not delivered here to the mansion within five minutes, along with the money and the music box, I will give the order for the hostages to be shot one by one, every five minutes, until our demands are met. The clock is ticking, Miss Stevens. Unless you want the deaths of innocent people on your head, I suggest you get busy.”

Horrified, Julianna told herself he was bluffing. Then she remembered Ritka had said Kartoff was ruthless and had killed his own people in Chekagovia. She had to believe him. “Ritka’s on his way,” she said quickly. “But all the bridges are shut down because of a bomb scare and he’s stuck in traffic.”

“Then I guess one of the hostages should prepare to die,” he retorted.

“No, wait! He’s trying to meet your demands. He just needs a little more time. Please be patient. He’s on his way.”

For an answer, Kartoff merely hung up.

“What is it?” Kurt asked sharply when Julianna dropped the phone back onto its base and looked up at him with stricken eyes. “What did he say?”

“He’s going to start killing the hostages one by one if their demands aren’t met in five minutes.”



She looked so horrified that Kurt instinctively started to reach for her, only to remind himself that he no longer had the right to touch her. “Don’t let him get to you,” he growled. “He’s yanking your chain. The hostages are the only safety net he’s got. He wouldn’t dare kill them.”

“That’s right,” Tom added curtly, scowling down the street at the mansion. Surrounded on all sides by the floodlights the police had erected, the house sat as silent as a tomb, the Christmas lights in its windows still twinkling merrily. “Kartoff’s not an idiot. He knows the only reason we haven’t stormed the building is because of the hostages. If he starts killing them off, he’s signing his own death warrant.”

Julianna wanted to believe them, but she couldn’t forget Kartoff’s cold-blooded words. He’d already proven himself to be a man who was capable of anything. If he killed Chekagovians, the very people he claimed to want to help, why would he hesitate to put a bullet in the head of innocent Americans who were no longer useful to him? What, after all, did he have to lose? The authorities knew who he was. Whatever happened tonight, the situation was going to end badly for him.

Suddenly chilled to the bone, she pulled her coat closer around her, but the cold night air only snaked around her ankles and drifted up under the hem of her dress. She was dressed for a party, she thought numbly, and across the street, a party of terrified guests were waiting to be executed. When had the world become so crazy?

One by one, the minutes slipped away with agonizing slowness, and with each tick of the clock, the tension in her belly tightened until she felt like she would scream if something didn’t happen soon. Five minutes wound down to three, then two, then finally one. And when minutes gave way to seconds, she held her breath and didn’t even realize she was shaking her head. “No…no…no.”

The night was as still and soundless as death. All around her, FBI agents, police and emergency medical personnel stood rooted to the ground, waiting, their collective gazes all fixed on the mansion. No one dared to move, let alone breathe. Then suddenly, with the last tick of the clock, a single gunshot exploded in the night.

“No!”

Later, Julianna never remembered crying out in horror. Time itself seemed to freeze. Just a moment before, the command center had been a beehive of activity as agents and police communicated on walkie-talkies and cell phones, coordinating positions and strategies. But with a single shot, the terrorists brought everyone within hearing distance to a dead stop.

How long they all stood there in shock, Julianna couldn’t have said. She knew it had to only be minutes—it felt like an eternity. Then somewhere behind her, someone cursed. With nothing more than that, the spell that held everyone motionless was broken. Grim-faced SWAT team members and FBI agents swore roundly, but Julianna never heard them. With a choked cry, she turned into Kurt’s arms.



As stunned as she was by the turn of events, Kurt folded his arms around her and pulled her tight against him. His eyes still trained in disbelief on the mansion down the street, he swore softly. “Son of a bitch! I can’t believe the bastard actually did it.”

“It’s my fault,” Julianna mumbled against his shoulder. “He didn’t believe me when I told him Ritka was on his way. I should have called him back and made him understand that I don’t play games. He had no way of knowing that—”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Kurt cut in, scowling as he grabbed her upper arms and held her back far enough so he could see her pale, stricken face. “You aren’t to blame for this!”

“Of course I am. I was the only one he was in contact with. Something I said must have convinced him that talking wasn’t going to get him anywhere, so he was forced to do something drastic.”

“The man’s a murderer, sweetheart. This wasn’t an act of desperation—it was an act of terror. It’s no different than what he’s done to his own people in Chekagovia. He either gets his way or he kills people.”

“But it’s my job to see that something like this doesn’t happen. Someone’s dead because of me.”

Tears pooled in those big, beautiful brown eyes of hers, and it was more than Kurt could stand. In the past, she’d ranted and raved and even thrown things occasionally, and he’d taken it all in stride. Her tears, however, had always been his undoing, though he’d never let her know that. There were some things a man was better off keeping to himself.

But it had been too long since he’d held her, and the sight of her tears tore him apart. Unable to stop himself, he pulled her back into his arms and didn’t give a thought to the fact that they might be drawing the interested eyes of his co-workers. The only thing that mattered was comforting her.

“Hush,” he scolded softly. “No one expects you to be able to reason with a madman. If someone’s dead tonight, it’s because of Kartoff’s orders, not because you did anything wrong.”

She was determined to beat herself up—Kurt could almost feel another argument rising up in her—but before she could say another word, the faint sound of carolling drifted toward them on the cold night air. And with each passing second, the singing got louder.

“Listen!” he urged, drawing back to grin down at her. “The hostages are singing again, only this time, they’re singing ‘God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen.’ Listen to the words of the song, sweetheart.”

In the sudden hushed silence of Christmas Eve, the combined voices of the hostages sounded like a choir of angels singing from on high. “God rest ye, merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay…” With the last phrase, their voices rose significantly. Their message couldn’t have been any clearer if it had been spelled out in lights.

His green eyes alight with good humor, Kurt chuckled. “Kartoff must think he’s been saddled with the hostages from hell. Everytime he thinks he’s on the verge of intimidating us into doing what he wants, they ruin it for him.”



Stunned, Julianna blinked. “He was bluffing?” Even as she asked the question, she felt like a fool for even voicing it. Of course, he was bluffing! Kurt and Tom had warned her that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk the lives of his captives, and they were right. Only an idiot would kill the only bargaining tool he had, and Kartoff had already proven he was no idiot.

Just that quickly, she was furious. Steam all but spilling from her ears, she jerked free of Kurt’s touch and grabbed the phone to the mansion. A split second later, Kartoff answered the phone, and she blasted him with a spate of angry words. “That was a stupid thing to do, Kartoff! In case you don’t realize it, I’m the only friend you’ve got out here, and what you just did was despicable. You try pulling another stunt like that, and I’m turning you over to the SWAT team. Have I made myself clear?”

There was dead silence at the other end of the line, and too late, Julianna realized letting her temper get the best of her may have been a mistake. But damn it, the jackass deserved it!

Still furious, she listened to his nearly soundless breathing at the other end of the line and knew better than to rush in and break the silence. That would only put her in a position of weakness, and that was just what Kartoff wanted. She’d be damned if she’d give him the satisfaction.

So she stood there with the phone pressed tightly to her ear for what seemed like an eternity, praying she hadn’t just put the hostages lives in more danger than they already were. Then, just when she was sure she couldn’t stand the silence another second, Kartoff growled, “There’ll be no more tricks…on one condition.”

Relief almost buckled Julianna’s knees. Yes! she wanted to shout, but she couldn’t. Not yet. She was finally making some progress, but there would be no celebrating until the hostages were free—and they were still a long way from that.

Her voice cool and even, she said, “And that would be?”

“You come here—to the mansion—and meet with me.”

Stunned, Julianna couldn’t believe she’d heard him correctly. “I beg your pardon.”

“My comrades and I want our story told to the world, and you are the person to do it. If you want to guarantee the safety of the hostages until Helmut Ritka is turned over to us, you will come here alone and listen to our grievances. Then you will go in front of the television cameras that have set up camp behind the police barriers and tell everyone why we despise Helmut Ritka.”

“But—”

“If you care about the hostages as much as you claim you do, Miss Stevens, I don’t think this is too much to ask,” he said smoothly. “You have my word you won’t be harmed, so why do you hesitate? Don’t you believe I will protect you from my comrades?”

He was taunting her, playing with her emotions, blatantly manipulating her. Julianna had expected no less from a hostage-taker. After all, he was in a hell of a spot. He and his commandoes were surrounded by an army of law enforcement officials, and the longer the situation dragged out, the less chance they had of walking out of the mansion with Helmut Ritka and a million bucks. They’d be lucky if they made it out alive, and then they had nothing to look forward to except a long prison term…unless he could make points with the press and win sympathy for their cause. Considering the circumstances, that wasn’t likely to happen, but he had to try. And she was his microphone.

And she was all right with that. Because she had an agenda of her own. The more she could keep him talking, the greater her chance of resolving the situation peacefully.

Making a snap decision, she said, “Actually, I do believe you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Chapter 5

“If you agreed to what I think you just agreed to, you can forget it,” Kurt said ominously the second she hung up. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“He wants to talk—”

“Then let him call Larry King,” he growled. “You’re not available.”

“The hell I’m not,” she snapped, irritation flashing in her dark eyes at his autocratic tone. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a hostage negotiator, Mister High and Mighty. I can’t negotiate the release of the hostages if I can’t talk to the man who’s holding them captive.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t talk to him…just not face-to-face on his own turf. It’s too dangerous. If someone has to go in, it’s going to be either me or Tom.”

Frustrated, Julianna wanted to shake him. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know he’s not going to trust a man. I’m not a threat to him—”

“Which is exactly my point,” he cut in. “If he decided to add you to the hostage list, there wouldn’t be a damn thing you could do about it. Forget it. You’re not going.”

He had that look on his face, the one that said he’d made up his mind and nothing she could say was going to change it, and that infuriated Julianna. Who the devil did he think he was? She didn’t answer to him. And she certainly didn’t need his permission to do her job! Her brown eyes narrowing dangerously, she said coolly, “Charlie might have something to say about that. Shall I call him and see?”



Standing toe-to-toe with her, Kurt ground his teeth on an oath. Little witch! So she was going to pull out the big guns, was she? Why wasn’t he surprised? Charles Baker was the chief of police and thought there was nothing Julianna couldn’t pull off when she set her mind to it. If she told him she needed to speak to Kartoff alone, there was no question that he’d approve the idea.

Just that easily, she won the argument, and she knew it. Triumph flashed in her eyes, and even though she didn’t smile, Kurt knew she wanted to. And it was that, more than anything, that pushed him over the edge. “This isn’t a game, damn it,” he growled, and reached for her.

It happened so quickly, he didn’t have time to question the wisdom of his actions. One second, he was furious with her, and the next, she was in his arms. He didn’t remember reaching for her—hell, he didn’t remember his own name when his mouth came down on hers. His brain shut down and all he could do was feel.

Too long, he thought with a groan, dragging her closer. It had been too long since he’d kissed her, too long since he’d held her and ached to lose himself in her. He’d forgotten how soft she was, how sweet, how perfectly she filled his arms and fit against him. Need swept over him in a hot wave of longing, and for the span of a heartbeat, all he wanted to do was sweep her up in his arms and carry her off into the dark, away from the floodlights that lit the entire block like a car lot, away from old hurts and bad memories.

Then from somewhere in the distance, church bells softly played “It Came Across a Midnight Clear.” Brought back to the present with a jolt, he remembered everything…their divorce, the last three years of loneliness, the hostages. And just that quickly, it was time to go back to work.



One second Julianna was in his arms and loving it, and the next, she was put from him with an abruptness that left her blinking in surprise. Dazed, her heart pounding, she swayed toward him and only just then saw the hard expression on his face. That brought her crashing back to earth as nothing else could.

Mortified, she stiffened, hot color flooding her cheeks. She couldn’t have done what she thought she just did! she thought wildly. She wouldn’t kiss Kurt in the middle of a hostage situation. She wouldn’t kiss him period! The stress was just getting to her and playing tricks with her mind. There was no other explanation.

But even as she tried to convince herself this was all a bad dream, she realized her pulse was thumping like crazy and the spicy scent of Kurt’s cologne clung to her coat. Tom cleared his throat, reminding them both of his presence, and when her gaze met his, there was no mistaking the clear glint of understanding humor she saw there. Silently swallowing a moan, she wanted to die right there on the spot. Not only had she lost her mind and kissed Kurt like there was no tomorrow, she’d done it right in front of the FBI, District police and the cameras of every television station within a hundred-mile radius! She’d never be able to live this down.

Normally, she would have made some kind of excuse and made a hasty retreat, but she never got the chance. Suddenly, Tom’s walkie-talkie sputtered to life and a gravelly voice growled, “Two hostages just escaped from the mansion. Paramedics are needed at the northwest quadrant.”

For a split second, no one in the command center moved. Then a shout went up, and suddenly everyone was pressing toward the tall man in full military dress uniform and the delicate blonde he carried so gently in his arms.

“Careful,” he said roughly as paramedics rushed forward to help. “She hurt her ankle—”

“It’s just a sprain,” the blonde said, only to wince as she was lowered to a stretcher.

Paramedics quickly began to examine the injured woman, but that didn’t stop FBI agents and SWAT team members from surrounding them, all throwing questions at once. In a matter of seconds, everyone in the command center knew the hostages’ names. Eva Ritka and Major Billy Colton.

Amazed, Julianna couldn’t believe it. How in the world had Ritka’s daughter managed to escape Kartoff and his men? Did Kartoff know who he’d let slip through his fingers? What did Eva know about the music box?

Before she could ask, one of the paramedics announced, “Her ankle appears to be broken. It’s very serious. We need to get her to the hospital for X rays right away.”

“I can answer any questions for Ms. Ritka,” Major Colton said to the agent next to him. “And I want a police escort to accompany her to the hospital.” Concerned, Major Colton, who hadn’t left Eva’s side, only had time for a private word of encouragement before the stretcher that carried her was loaded into the ambulance. The major stood there staring after her for a long quiet moment, before he turned to face the questions.

Introducing himself, Tom said, “It’s nice to meet you, Major. Your call earlier helped.” Shaking hands with him, he introduced Julianna and Kurt, then asked, “How’d you manage to escape? We thought Kartoff had everyone rounded up in the ballroom.”

“We got lucky,” he said. “We were in the attic when the rebels took the mansion. The men searched the house, but my cousin warned me in Comanche that the band of terrorists from Chekagovia were after Eva. We managed to escape onto the roof just in time. That’s where we were when I called 911. Unfortunately, I dropped the phone during the call, and we’ve been trying to make our way down from the roof ever since. If it hadn’t been for that old oak tree on the north side of the house, we’d still be up there.”

“You climbed down a tree in full military dress?” Kurt asked, admiration glinting in is eyes. “And the lady had on heels and a party dress? It’s a wonder the two of you didn’t break your necks.”

“Eva nearly did,” he said grimly. “I never meant for her to get hurt.”

“Can you tell us anything about a music box?” Julianna asked. “Kartoff—the rebel leader—is demanding it be turned over to him, but no one seems to know what he’s talking about.”

“All I know is that Eva’s grandfather gave it to her after her mother died,” he replied promptly. “He claimed it was a national treasure and the key to her country.”

Surprised, Kurt frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” the major replied. “Eva couldn’t imagine what it meant, either, and her grandfather never explained it to her.”

“Did she find the music box?”

He nodded. “I put it in her coat pocket—which is still hanging in the closet at the top of the stairs on the second floor.”

“You mean, after everything she went through to get it, she had to leave it behind?” Tom asked incredulously.

For the first time, a hint of a smile curved the major’s stern mouth. “Like I said, we were in the attic when the rebels forced their way into the house. We couldn’t go back down to the second floor without getting caught.”

“Wait a minute,” Julianna said, confused. “You said your cousin warned you the rebels were after Eva. The Ritkas moved out of the house over two months ago. How did Kartoff know Eva was in the house? She’s not friends with the Coltons, is she?”

“She met my brother, Jesse Colton who works for the National Security Agency, right after she and her father moved out, but I didn’t get the impression that they were friends or anything.”

“So how did Kartoff know where to find her? Did he have her followed?”

He shrugged. “That’s a possibility, but if I were you, I’d take a good look at her limo driver. He was jumpy…nervous.”

Surprised, Julianna arched a brow. “When did you meet her limo driver?”

“When I talked her into staying,” he retorted promptly. “He was hanging around, waiting to drive her home, so I gave him some money and told him to take the rest of the night off. I’d see her home.”

“So he left?”

“Not willingly, at least not at first, which made no sense. It’s Christmas Eve, for heaven’s sake. Most people would jump at the chance to take the night off with extra cash in their pocket. But not this guy. He kept looking around, like he was waiting for something to happen, and coming up with excuses to stay.”

“Do you think he was involved with Kartoff?” Tom asked sharply.

“I do,” he said angrily. “He was certainly suspicious. My hunch is that he informed the terrorists that Eva was at the mansion. Considering everything that’s happened, I wouldn’t rule him out as a suspect.”

“It won’t hurt to bring him in for questioning,” Tom replied. “Let’s put an APB out on him and see what he has to say for himself. You didn’t happen to get a look at his plates, did you?”

Grinning, the major promptly rattled them off. “He was driving a white limo, propably a 2000 model, though I’m not positive about that. His name’s Jerry—I didn’t catch his last name. He was wearing a white shirt, black bow tie and black slacks. He was about five-ten, and slender. He had a cap on, so I really didn’t notice the color of his hair. I think it was dark. Helmut Ritka can probably give you more details. Apparently, he uses the limo on a regular basis.”

“Speaking of Ritka,” Julianna said, “has anyone called to let him know his daughter is all right?”

“Someone from the hospital has probably called him.”

“Maybe, but he was awfully worried about her,” she replied. “I’ll call and see what he knows about Jerry.”

“I’d like to call the hospital,” the major said, falling in step with her as she headed for the phone bank. “Just to see how Eva is doing.”

His tone was serious, but Julianna wasn’t fooled. She’d seen how protective he was of the diplomat’s daughter—there were obvious romantic sparks between them. And she couldn’t help but envy them that. If only she and Kurt—

Suddenly realizing where her thoughts had drifted, she stiffened. There would be no if onlys, she told herself sternly. She and Kurt were finished, and she couldn’t, wouldn’t, torture herself with wondering where they would be now if they hadn’t divorced.

Clinging firm to that resolve, she quickly called Helmut Ritka. “Your daughter has been found, sir,” she informed him the second he came on the line. “She was in the mansion, but she managed to escape with the help of Major Billy Colton.”

“Thank God!” he breathed. “Is she all right? Why didn’t she answer her cell phone? I want to speak to her—”

“Her cell phone was lost in the escape,” she explained. “And I’m afraid you can’t speak to her just yet. She’s at the emergency room at District Medical Center.”

“What?”

“She’s all right,” she quickly assured him. “She injured her ankle during the escape and apparently broke it.”

“I have to call the hospital,” he said worriedly. “I’m sorry, Ms. Stevens. I know I promised to help you, and I will, but first I must talk to my daughter.”

Not surprised, Julianna understood perfectly. He was a parent first, a diplomat second. She couldn’t fault him for that. “Of course you need to talk to her. I did want to discuss a new development with you. What do you know about your daughter’s limo driver?”

“Jerry?” he said in surprise. “He’s always prompt and courteous. Why do you ask?”

“Because he was acting very nervous this evening. He didn’t want to leave when your daughter was invited to stay for the wedding reception. When Kartoff and his men stormed the mansion, they were looking for the music box and your daughter. Jerry was the only one who knew where she planned to be tonight.”

“You think he told Kartoff?”

“It’s a reasonable deduction, but first we need to talk to him. What do you know about him?”

“Not much,” he said regretfully. “His full name is Jerald Trolo. His parents are Chekagovian, but Jerry was born and raised in America. He’s twenty-five, and lives in D.C. with his wife and child.”

“And you still don’t know anything about the music box they were looking for?”

“No. As I told you before, I have no knowledge of this music box everyone is so obsessed with.”

He sounded irritated and defensive, and Julianna didn’t believe him for a second. Every instinct she had told her he knew something he wasn’t telling, but she could hardly grill him about it on the phone. Face-to-face, however, was another matter. “I hope we can still count on you for your help once you’re sure your daughter is all right,” she said easily. “Any help you can give us with Kartoff will be invaluable.”

“Of course,” he said quickly. “Hopefully, I will be there within a half hour. The traffic is starting to move.”

Hanging up, Julianna quickly relayed the latest information to Tom and Kurt, who, in turn, made sure the police and agents in the field were updated. “He still claims he doesn’t know anything about the music box,” she added. “I think it’s time to see what Kartoff has to say about it. If he expects us to turn Ritka over to him along with a million dollars and the music box, the least he can do is explain the significance of it.”



Kurt couldn’t believe she was serious. “This is a joke, right? You’re not still going, are you?”

“Of course I am. There are still a hundred and ninety-eight hostages who need rescuing. I’m not going to walk away from them just because two managed to escape.” Turning to Tom, she said, “Now that Kartoff is finally willing to talk, we have to seize the opportunity and go with it. If he’d consider talking to you or Kurt, that’d be different, but he won’t. He’s not going to allow anyone else into the mansion but me. I have to go.”

If he wanted to stop her, all he had to do was say no. He didn’t, but there was no doubt that he had strong reservations. Frowning, he studied her critically through narrowed eyes that missed little. “Are you willing to wear a wire?” he asked finally.

“No!” Kurt exploded. “What are you trying to do? Get her killed?”

She started to snap back at him, only to remember the kiss he’d given her right before the major and Eva escaped. She didn’t even want to think about it. “No one’s going to kill me,” she said coolly. “And yes, Tom, I will wear a wire. Kartoff’s only stipulation was that I come alone.”

“He knows you’re with the Bureau,” the agent said, ignoring Kurt’s glower. “I imagine he’ll be expecting it. You might as well wear a camera, too.”

Another man might have been intimidated by Kurt’s muttered expletive, but Tom merely lifted a brow at him. “Was there something else you wanted to say, Kurt?”

“Yes, damn it! You’re going too far. She’s not an agent—”

“Or an idiot,” Julianna added sweetly, too sweetly. “I’ll be careful.”

“Careful may not be good enough,” he retorted. “This isn’t your run-of-the-mill criminal you’re dealing with. He’s a terrorist, for God’s sake! He doesn’t need a reason to kill you.”

“He won’t.”

“Oh, so now you’re a psychic? You’ve never even met the man. How can you possibly predict what he’s going to do?”

“You always said that the reason you’d never gotten shot on the job was because you followed your gut. Why can’t I do the same thing? Aren’t my instincts as good as yours?”

Put that way, he was damned, regardless of how he answered. Another man might have been able to look her in the eye and tell her her instincts stunk, but he wasn’t that good a liar. One of the first things that had drawn him to her was the way she could talk to anyone. She was friendly and caring, and had a way of drawing information out of people that had always stunned him. But that didn’t mean she had any business walking into the middle of a hostage situation!

“Of course they are, but—”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Wasn’t it obvious? he wanted to snap. She was the problem! She—his ex-wife, damn it! It’d been three years since they’d walked away from each other with divorce papers in their hands; he should have been over her. Like it or not, he wasn’t. And it was all her fault. She was the one who’d come to a hostage standoff dressed for a party. How was a man supposed to ignore a beautiful ex-wife when she looked good enough to eat in her long red dress and high heels? And the way she’d kissed him back when he hadn’t been able to stop himself from kissing her…how the hell was he supposed to forget that? Did she really think he could just stand by without saying a word and let her walk into danger when he was still reeling from her kiss?

“I don’t care what assurances Kartoff gave you,” he said flatly, “the man’s a murderer. I don’t trust him.”

He might as well have saved his breath. He never saw Tom make the call for technical assistance, but suddenly a middle-aged woman agent appeared at Julianna’s side and told her, “We’ll need to conceal the equipment under your dress in case you’re asked to take off your coat. I know it’s cold, dear, but I need to see what you’re wearing.”

Scowling, Kurt stepped forward. “This is ridiculous!”

That was as far as he got. Julianna slipped out of her coat, and his mouth went dry. The sparkling red dress that fell modestly to her ankles wasn’t nearly as modest on top. Except for two skinny little straps, her shoulders were bare.

“No!” he said hoarsely. Where was her brain? She couldn’t wear that to meet a terrorist! “Damn it, Tom,” he growled, “put your eyes back in your head and tell her she can’t do this!”

“Not wearing that dress,” he agreed dryly. “Mary, what else have we got that she can wear?”

“We’re about the same size,” the other agent replied, eyeing Julianna critically. “I’ve got a suit from the dry cleaners in the back of my car that should fit her. She can change in the first aid tent.”

“No!” Kurt cried in exasperation as the two women walked past him without stopping. Kurt turned to Tom. “What’s wrong with everyone? It’s not just the dress! She’s not ready for this!”

His auburn brows knit in a frown, Tom said, “Don’t you think you’re being a tad overprotective? She’s a criminal psychologist, Kurt. She’s negotiated hostage releases before.”

“But she’s never been in the field!” He knew—just because they hadn’t spoken in three years didn’t mean he hadn’t kept up with her career. “She’s not an agent. She won’t have a clue what to do if she gets into trouble.”

Tom disagreed. “She’s got a sharp head on her shoulders. And Mary will fix her up nicely. We’ll know everything that’s going on. If the situation turns ugly, we’ll—”

“What?” Kurt taunted coldly. “Rush in with guns blazing? She’ll be dead by then.”

“It isn’t going to come to that,” the agent assured him. “The last thing Kartoff wants is a hostage who came in under a white flag. It won’t look good on the evening news.”

Kurt wanted to argue that Kartoff didn’t care about image or he never would have terrorized his own people the way he had, but what was the point? Julianna was determined to go through with this madness, and it was obvious that Tom wasn’t going to do anything to stop her. And there wasn’t a damn thing Kurt could do about it.

Worry eating at him, he almost went looking for Julianna to try to talk some sense into her one last time, but it was already too late for that. Before he could even take a step toward the first aid tent, the two women were crossing the command center and heading straight for where he and Tom stood.

Mary matched her stride for stride, but the only one he saw was Julianna. A monk couldn’t have objected to the black pant suit and white blouse she’d changed into, and if she wore a wire and camera, they were well concealed. She looked businesslike, professional…and scared.

Thank God! he sighed, noting the shadows in her eyes and the stiffness with which she carried herself. She’d had time to think about the risk she was about to take and finally come to her senses. It was about damn time!

Relieved, he started to congratulate her on her good sense when she and Mary joined them, but she never gave him the chance. “I’m ready,” she told Tom before he could even open his mouth. “Wish me luck.”

Stunned, Kurt growled, “You can’t be serious! Damn it, Julianna, we all know you’re scared—it’s written all over your face. And that’s okay. No one’s going to think less of you if you change your mind.”

Surprised that he thought she might think that, she said, “Good. But I haven’t changed my mind. That doesn’t mean I’m not scared—only an idiot wouldn’t be—but I’m doing the right thing.”

He was furious with her, but she didn’t have time to argue with him. She’d told Kartoff she’d be there in ten minutes, and it was already well past that. Turning to Mary, she smiled tremulously. “I feel like a walking sound stage. Are all my bells and whistles activated?”

“They’re recording even as we speak. Ready?”

Her heart picking up speed, Julianna nodded. It seemed like she’d been working toward this moment from her senior year in high school, when she’d first decided to study criminal psychology. She was more than ready to put her years of study and training to work. That didn’t, however, mean that she didn’t share Kurt’s fears. She was walking into a den of unpredictable terrorists—anything could happen. She knew that and accepted it…and prayed that her guardian angels stayed close by her side.

It was time to go—Tom and Mary would go with her as far as the barriers the police had hastily erected, sealing off the mansion—but she couldn’t leave, not yet. Not when Kurt looked so furious with her for deliberately placing herself in danger. She shouldn’t have cared what he thought—just hours ago, she would have sworn that she didn’t. But that was before she saw him again, kissed him again.

Everything had changed, yet nothing had. She didn’t know what the future would bring for either one of them, but she did know that if something went wrong tonight, she was glad that she’d had this time with the only man she’d ever loved. Giving in to impulse, she reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. A moment later, she turned and walked away.



Don’t! he almost cried. Fear a sick feeling in his stomach, he wanted to grab her, to stop her, to pull her into his arms and hold her until this was all over. For the first time, he realized how she must have felt every time his job took him into danger. No wonder she hated his work so much! He’d never understood…until now, when he was the one left behind with all the worry.

Chapter 6

Overhead, the thunderous blades of a helicopter beat the cold night air, keeping perfect time to the beat of her heart as Julianna slowly started walking down the drive to the mansion. Too late, she wondered if she’d lost her mind. Kurt was right—this was crazy! What had ever possessed her to agree to this? If she wanted to kill herself, there were easier, faster ways—like jumping off a bridge. At least, then, there wouldn’t be any torture involved. Or rape.

Her steps slow and steady, she faltered, her stomach turning over at the thought. She hadn’t considered rape, hadn’t even thought of it. Surely, the terrorists wouldn’t…

Unable to finish the thought, horrifying images flashing before her widened eyes, she stopped in her tracks. She couldn’t do this. It was too dangerous. Once she was inside the mansion, she would be at Kartoff’s mercy, and she didn’t think the man even knew the meaning of the word. If he wanted to talk to her, he could do it on the front lawn, in full view of the battalion of law enforcement agents who had the place surrounded. Then she would feel safe.

But as she started to turn back to the command center, she knew Kartoff would never agree to such a suggestion. And right now, there was nothing she or anyone else could do to force him to cooperate. He held all the cards, and he knew it. If she was going to have even a chance of negotiating the hostages’ release, she had to do things his way.

She wanted—needed—to believe he wouldn’t hurt her. After all, even though he’d made threats against the hostages, they were still singing Christmas songs whenever they got the chance. Surely, they wouldn’t be doing that if Kartoff and his men had turned against the women.

Hanging on to that thought for dear life, she slowly continued her lonely walk toward the mansion. All around her, she could feel the eyes of the FBI and SWAT team members drilling into her, watching not only her, but the windows of the mansion, as well. She didn’t doubt for a minute that if they saw something they didn’t like, they’d stop her well before she reached the mansion and call her back to the command center.

As she approached the steps of the mansion, the silence that followed her was broken only by the thundering of her own heart. Then, before she knew it, she was knocking at the front door and there was no going back.

The door was jerked opened almost immediately, but before she could say a word, she was pulled inside and a blanket was thrown over her head. “Do as you’re told,” a thick, unfamiliar guttural voice growled when she gasped, “and you won’t be harmed.”

Blinded, fear spilling into her stomach like hot lava, all she could think of was that the tiny camera that was embedded in the top button of her suit jacket was covered up. Back at the command center, Kurt and Tom were as blinded as she. Panic tightened like a fist around her throat, choking her, and without thinking, she instinctively began to pull at the blanket. She had to get it off so they could see the terrorists and possibly identify them.

“No!” her companion said coldly, grabbing her hand. “You will leave it on until you are told you can take it off.”

“I can’t! I can’t breathe—”

“Then you will be restrained,” he retorted, and grabbed her hand.

Her heart suddenly stopping in midbeat, Julianna froze at the feel of his fingers slipping around her wrist. Was Kurt right, after all? she wondered wildly. Was all of Kartoff’s talk about wanting to tell his story just a trick to get her in the building? “Please,” she choked. “Kartoff promised—”

“That you wouldn’t be harmed,” another, more familiar, male voice said coolly. “We will talk in the kitchen, Miss Stevens. Do as you’re told, and there will be no problem.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. “I’ll go peacefully,” she said quietly. “I was just startled.”

The men exchanged a few words in what Julianna recognized as German, and a few seconds later, she was led toward what she could only suppose was the back of the house. Engulfed in a dark, almost eery silence, it was impossible to tell if the hostages were anywhere nearby.

Concerned, not sure what to expect next when her guide abruptly came to a stop, she couldn’t stop her knees from knocking. What if Kartoff and his men searched her? They would surely find the wire. Then what?

Before she could even guess the answer to that, the blanket was whipped off her head. Surprised, she blinked…and found herself standing directly in front of a heavyset man whom she supposed was Kartoff. Dressed all in black, he didn’t have to worry if she had a camera concealed on her or not—he’d taken the precaution of wearing a black ski mask that concealed everything but his ice-blue eyes. His men, she saw as she quickly glanced around the large, commercial kitchen of the mansion, were dressed the same. She could have worn a dozen cameras and it would have done little good. There was no way she—or the FBI agents watching from the command center—were going to be able to identify any of them.

Disappointed, she reminded herself that she couldn’t be concerned with that. She was there to negotiate the release of the hostages. Nothing else mattered. Facing Kartoff squarely, she said, “Are the hostages all right? I would like to see them.”

“They are fine,” he retorted, then motioned abruptly to the wooden work table in the middle of the room. “Sit. We will talk about Ritka.”

Relieved—he hadn’t said she couldn’t see the hostages—she had no choice but to play out their meeting his way. Taking a seat at the table, she sat back in her chair and lifted a delicately arched brow. “What is it you would like the world to know about Helmut Ritka?”

“He is our country’s number one enemy,” he said coldly. “He’s ruining the Chekagovian financial infrastructure by siding with Western economic policies.”

Surprised, Julianna said, “But I thought he was quite popular in Chekagovia. Wasn’t he directly responsible for the increase of the sale of your oil to the West? Thanks to him, your country has more money now than it’s ever had.”

“No!” he roared. “That’s nothing compared to what we could be making, and he knows it. But does he care? No! The bastard is draining our country of its natural resources for a pittance, just to make points with the West.”

Julianna wasn’t an expert on foreign affairs, but she’d thought that conditions in Chekagovia had improved drastically since it had allied itself with the United States and other Western countries. “According to news reports, Chekagovia’s economy is the best it’s been in decades,” she said with a frown. “Ritka is one of your president’s economic advisors. Obviously, he must be pleased with the job he’s doing or he would fire him.”

“Peschuski is an idiot,” he sneered. “He wouldn’t know a balanced budget if he tripped over it. It’s Ritka’s job to find a way to stabilize the economy, and he’s done that by siding with Western economic policies that do not work in Chekagovia. The bastard is destroying us, and he must pay for that.”

“So you want Ritka delivered to you because of his poor economic policies?”

“Exactly. He has to stand trial for his misdeeds.”

“In Chekagovian courts?”

“Of course not!” he snapped. “He has too much influence there. No, we, the people he has hurt the most, will try him at our camp in the mountains near Chekov, after you arrange to have him turned over to us.”

Julianna sincerely doubted that the U.S. government would ever hand over Helmut Ritka to the likes of a man like Kartoff, but that was something she intended to keep to herself. The man obviously had a quick temper and little patience. He’d given his word that he would see that she was allowed to leave after their meeting, but she suspected he’d only promised her that because he thought he could use her to get Ritka. Once he realized that wasn’t going to happen, her only value to him was as another hostage.

Her expression carefully neutral, she said, “Arranging something like this takes time, but I will start on it as soon as I get back to the command center. It would help your cause, though, if I could assure my superiors that all of the hostages are all right. If I could just see them for a moment—”

“No!”

“But—”

“The hostages will remain in seclusion until our demands are met.”

Julianna would have liked to argue further, but even though Kartoff’s face was well concealed behind his ski mask, there was no mistaking the rigid, implacable set of his jaw. He wasn’t going to bend on this. If she continued to push him, she could not only put the hostages’ lives in jeopardy, but her own.

Giving in gracefully, she said, “I understand. Thank you for giving me this time. I will relay your story to the press—”

A sudden loud knock at the door cut through the rest of her words. Kartoff gave a sharp command, and with the entrance of another of the terrorist’s men, the tension in the room tightened like a fist. Alarmed and not sure why, Julianna watched the newcomer stride over to Kartoff and speak to him in a low voice. In the time it took to blink, the terrorist leader’s eyes flew to hers.

“Bitch!”

Startled, Julianna jumped, and just that quickly he was on her, his hands tight around her throat. “She escaped! Ritka’s bitch of a daughter was here and she got away. Did she take the music box with her? Tell me, damn you! Where’s the music box?”

Terrified, gasping for breath, Julianna grabbed at the fingers that bit into her throat, but she couldn’t dent his steel grip. He was killing her! Blackness clouded her brain, sucking the air from her lungs. Shaken like a rag doll, all she could do was gasp, “Don’t! Please! I don’t know anything!”

Her words were little more than a hoarse whisper he couldn’t have possibly heard. His fingers tightened, cutting off the last of her air. Then, just when she was sure she was dying, he swore in German and shoved her away from him. “Get her out of here!”

Collapsing in a heap, clutching her bruised throat and sucking in precious air, she never saw the commando who had escorted her to the kitchen reach for the blanket. A split second later, everything went black.



When he got his hands on the bastard, he was going to kill him!

Standing as rigid as a fence post, Kurt stared unblinkingly at the fully lit mansion and grew angrier with every passing second. Kartoff had touched her, hurt her. And he’d been helpless to stop him. He’d had to stand there at the command center and watch the scumbag put his hands on her throat and shake her like a rag doll and he could do nothing. Nothing, damn it! Oh, he’d started for the mansion, but Tom and the others had stopped him before he could do anything but swear.

Where the hell was she?

Kartoff had ordered one of his men to get her out of there five minutes ago, and there was still no sign of her. Worried sick, he told himself she was all right, just a little shaken up. So why was she still inside? What the hell was going on?

“Something’s happened,” he muttered. “We’ve got to go in.”

Beside him, Tom said grimly, “Give it a few more minutes. We haven’t got a picture yet, but we’ve still got audio. If she was in trouble, we’d know it.”

“She should have been out of there by now. If that jackass touches her again, I’m taking him apart, Tom. Don’t try to stop me this time.”

“I’ll help you do it,” the other man assured him. “But first, we have to give her time to get out of there.”

Their eyes trained on the mansion’s front door, they counted each tick of the clock and felt the tension mount. Then, just when Kurt was sure he couldn’t stand it another minute, his walkie-talkie crackled to life and one of his own SWAT team members growled, “She’s out!”

Still staring at the front door, which hadn’t budged, Kurt didn’t believe it. Then he saw her coming around the rear of the house. Wearing her black dress coat over the suit she’d borrowed, she looked small and fragile in the night, and it was all he could do not to go to her.

“I never should have let her do this,” he told Tom grimly.

“You couldn’t have stopped her,” the agent retorted, admiration glinting in his eyes. “She’s a gutsy lady. I don’t know many women who would have gone in there alone.”

Watching her draw closer, a conflicting mix of emotions swirling inside him, Kurt didn’t know if he wanted to hug her for being so brave, or give her a well-deserved tongue-lashing for stubbornly insisting on taking such a risk. The second she reached the command center, however, there was no question in his mind that he wanted, needed, to hold her. She was pale, her eyes wide with the terror she’d just been through. She needed to be de-wired, then give a full accounting of everything she’d seen inside the mansion that her hidden camera might not have picked up, but Kurt didn’t care. Stepping toward her, he reached for her.

Shaking, her eyes welling with tears, she stepped into his arms like she was coming home, and it was only then that Kurt realized just how close he’d come to losing her. Later, that would throw him for a loop, but for now, all he could think of was that he didn’t want to let her go.

“Why don’t you take her over to one of the paramedics and let them check her over?” Tom suggested, his brow knit in a frown of concern. “She needs a break. We can talk later.”

Her face buried against Kurt’s chest, Julianna said in a muffled voice, “I’m all right.”

Kurt almost smiled at that, but he couldn’t forget how close she’d come to getting killed. “You need to let the paramedics check you out, sweetheart. It’ll only take a moment, then I’m going to get you something to eat. You didn’t have dinner, did you? I didn’t think so. C’mon. We’ll see what we can find….”

His arm around her shoulder, he murmured reassurances to her as he urged her to where the paramedics waited patiently for something to happen. Almost immediately, she was helped into a nearby ambulance, where she was offered a measure of privacy while an EMT who looked like she was hardly old enough to drive examined her throat.

“You’re going to have some nasty bruises,” the paramedic told her quietly as she inspected her reddened neck. “But overall, you were very lucky. Why don’t you lie down here for a while and rest for a few minutes? You look like you could use it.”

“Oh, no, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Kurt said from the open rear door of the ambulance. “Tom said to take a break and that’s what you’re going to do. Lie back and relax. I’m going to find you something to eat—”

“No! Don’t leave me!”

At her panicked cry, Kurt stopped in his tracks. “I wasn’t going far, sweetheart. Don’t you want something to eat?”

“No. Please…I just don’t want to be alone.”

He couldn’t have left her then for a million dollars. Glancing at the paramedic, he asked, “Is it all right if I stay with her?”

“Of course,” she said, stepping out of the ambulance.

His eyes on Julianna, so small and pale and scared, Kurt’s heart broke for her. Kartoff could have killed her and there was nothing he could have done to stop him. Shaken by the thought, he stepped into the ambulance and reached for her. He needed to hold her again, just for a minute.

Chapter 7

She’d never been so scared in her life. She was still shaking and near tears, and all she wanted to do was disappear in Kurt’s arms. She didn’t understand what was wrong with her—they were divorced, for heaven’s sake! But no one could make her feel safe like he could. Whimpering, she sat up on the stretcher and threw herself into his arms as he came down on his knees next to her in the ambulance.

“It’s okay, honey,” he murmured, holding her close, then closer still. “Everything’s all right.”

“I thought he was going to kill me!”

“So did I,” he said roughly. “And he’s going to pay for that. The coward’s going to have to come out of hiding eventually, and when he does, he’s going to know what it feels like to have someone’s hands around his throat. But don’t think about it now, sweetheart. Just put it out of your head and rest.”

“I can’t! I can still feel his fingers squeezing my throat.”

“Then I’ll give you something else to feel,” he said huskily, and gently pressed his lips to her bruised throat.

The caress was whisper-soft…and the sweetest kiss he’d ever given her. The tight band of fear that constricted her ribs suddenly eased, allowing her to draw in a fresh breath for what seemed like the first time in hours. With a quiet sigh, she melted against him…only to remember that she was wired for sound and pictures.

Alarmed, she pulled back. “Kurt—the wire!”

He jerked like he’d been stung, his scowl fierce as he glared at the collar of her coat where the tiny camera and microphone were concealed. “Whoever’s running the audio truck better turn the damn thing off,” he growled. “Here, let me help you get out of that thing.”

She should have stopped him. It would have been the smart thing to do. But what could happen when dozens of policemen, agents and EMTs were within shouting distance? Suddenly smiling at the thought, she said, “It hooks in the back.”

Flipping off the interior ambulance lights so anyone standing outside wouldn’t be able to see inside, he unbuttoned her coat and the buttons of her blouse, then slid his hands behind her to unhook the wire. At the first touch of his fingers on her bare skin, the air seemed to back up in her lungs, just as it had in the mansion. Only this time, it wasn’t with fear.

In the darkness, Kurt’s eyes met hers. “I always loved your skin,” he murmured quietly. “It’s so soft. Let me touch you, honey.”

She couldn’t have stopped him. Not when he sent pleasure rippling through her with a single stroke of his fingers. And not when he leaned over and kissed her with a tenderness that destroyed her. Emotion pulled at her, and suddenly tears welled in her eyes. How long had she wanted, needed, this without even knowing it? With a quiet murmur, she reached for him even when she knew she shouldn’t.

They had to get back to work—

The thought registered…and was gone in an instant when his warm, sure, knowing hands slid around her rib cage to cup her breasts. Slowly, softly, he stroked her sensitive breasts, and just that easily drove her out of her mind. Moaning, her body humming, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, her mouth hot and hungry under his.

“Kurt!”

His name was all she could manage, but there was no need to say more. She could hear the desperate need in her voice and knew he heard it, too. She felt his body tighten in response, then he was snatching her close, and his kiss, just for a moment, turned wild.

One word was all it would have taken from her, and he would have taken her right then and there, the rest of the world be damned. Her heart slamming against her ribs, she realized she wanted to make love to him at that moment more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. But they couldn’t. Not when there were still hostages down the street, not when her co-workers and his were just steps beyond the ambulance.

“Kurt.” She said his name again, but this time, the need that had roughened her voice only moments before was twinged with regret. “We have to get back,” she whispered as she gently captured his face in her hands when he would have kissed her again. “We’ve been gone too long.”

Groaning, Kurt buried his face against her neck. Less then fifteen minutes had passed since Tom had instructed her to take some time for herself, but she was right, damn it. When he made love to her again—and he had to believe it would be soon—it wouldn’t be on the job. “All right,” he groaned, forcing himself to let her go. “If you insist. But don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

Her own emotions still in a whirl, Julianna would have given anything to be able to have a few minutes to collect herself before they went to work, but that wasn’t possible. Once they’d both straightened their clothing and their hair and stepped out of the ambulance, they went right back to work.

In the middle of a hurried conversation with another agent, Tom looked up at their arrival and immediately noted that Julianna was more relaxed. “You look better,” he said by way of a greeting. “Are you ready to talk about what happened or would you like more time?”

“If Kartoff thinks he can scare me into not doing my job, he can think again,” she said coolly, once again in control. “I’m tougher than that.” And to prove it, she gave him an accounting of the number of commandoes and weapons she’d seen in the kitchen before Kartoff had tried to choke her to death without batting an eye.

“Good work,” he said with a nod. “While you were gone, we got word that the limo driver was picked up at his home. He’s being brought in right now.”

The words were hardly out of his mouth when Jerry Trolo arrived in the custody of another agent. “He refuses to talk,” the agent said in disgust.

“He will kill me if I say anything!” the limo driver cried.

“Who?” Tom asked with a frown.

“Kartoff! He and his men have been threatening me for weeks, watching every move I made and waiting for the day I drove Miss Eva again. I had to tell him she was going to the mansion to look for the old music box her grandfather gave her or he was going to kill my wife and baby. And he would have done it!” he said, his blue eyes huge in his pale face. “You don’t know him. He’s already killed my aunt and uncle in Chekagovia!”

“What was he really after?” Kurt asked. “Miss Eva or the music box?”

“Both,” he replied. “Miss Eva was his ace in the hole. He laughed about how he was going to get anything out of Ritka he wanted once he had Miss Eva. But it was the music box he was obsessed with. He claimed he would own Chekagovia once he found it.”

“Really?” Tom said dryly. “That must be some music box.”

“Please, you must help me and my family,” Jerry said desperately. “I have told you all I know. If Kartoff finds out—”

“He won’t,” Julianna assured him. “He has no way of knowing that you’ve spoken to us—”

“I was picked up at my apartment,” he reminded her. “If he had my place watched, my wife and child are sitting ducks.”

“The three of you will be taken to a safe house,” Tom assured him. “We may need to talk to you again, but for now, you can join your family. Don’t worry. Kartoff won’t be able to hurt you.”

He still looked doubtful, but he didn’t protest when he was escorted to a nearby car. His expression grim, Kurt said, “I think it’s time to talk to Ritka again. He’s got a few questions to answer.”

Chapter 8

Helmut Ritka was expected any moment, but five minutes passed, then ten, and there was still no sign of him. Glancing at her watch for the third time in twenty seconds, Julianna felt sick with guilt. Now that his daughter was safe, Ritka obviously felt no obligation to stand by his word and help her negotiate the release of the hostages. Maybe Kartoff hadn’t lied about him, after all.

“He’s coming here whether he likes it or not,” Kurt said gruffly when the major and Tom excused themselves to talk strategy with other FBI agents. “The man just found out his daughter was almost in Kartoff’s hands. She could have been killed. But he won’t back out now.”

Julianna sympathized with that, but nearly two hundred people were still in Kartoff’s hands. Their families were worried about them, too. “Kartoff can’t be pleased that his men let two hostages escape. He won’t wait long before he makes a move.”

No one wanted to contemplate what form his revenge might take, and thankfully, they didn’t have to. Three minutes later, Ritka called Julianna. “I apologize for the delay, Ms. Stevens. The traffic has cleared and we are almost there.”

“Please hurry, Mr. Ritka. Not knowing where your daughter was had to be quite terrifying for you. She was very lucky to escape. But there are a lot of innocent people still in danger.”

“I know. My daughter was very fortunate. I must thank Major Colton when I see him. My daughter could do nothing but sing his praises. As to the other hostages, they, too, must still be rescued. I’m willing to do whatever I can to help. I understand you met with Kartoff.”

“Yes, I did,” she said grimly. “It was quite frightening.” Quickly and concisely, she told him everything that the other man had said about him. “I don’t have to tell you that those are some pretty serious accusations, Mr. Ritka. If there’s any truth to any of this, I need to know now. I can’t negotiate effectively if I don’t have all the facts.”

“I have never done anything that would put my country in jeopardy—you can check the public record. Chekagovia is in better condition financially than it’s ever been. Your own Secretary of State has said as much numerous times. I don’t know what Kartoff is talking about.”

The FBI had checked the records, and they were clean. “I believe you, Mr. Ritka,” she assured him. “Now that we have that settled, it’s imperative that you tell me everything you know about the music box. And please don’t insult my intelligence by claiming you don’t know anything about it,” she said quickly, before he could do just that. “Your daughter’s limo driver reported that she went to the mansion tonight to find the music box. And Major Colton backed up his story. Your daughter told him your father-in-law gave her the music box when your wife died. She claims it’s a national treasure and the key to your country, and that’s why she went back to the mansion for it. She found it and put it in the pocket of her coat. Unfortunately, it was left behind when she escaped, but Kartoff still hasn’t found it. You must know its significance, sir.”

For a moment, she was afraid she’d overstepped her bounds and ruined everything by practically calling him a liar. Silence hummed on the line between them. Then, just when she was sure he was going to hang up on her, he said quietly, “I never told Eva the secret of the music box because I felt like what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Unfortunately, she isn’t the one being hurt here. Just now, I told her why Kartoff was so frantic to get his hands on the music box, and she convinced me that I can no longer keep quiet about this. There are too many lives at stake.”

Releasing the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding, Julianna sighed in relief. “She’s right, Mr. Ritka. We have to know everything if we’re going to be able to save the hostages. What does Kartoff know that we don’t? Why does he want the music box so badly?”

“Because the key that opens the music box is also the key to a vault in Chekagovia that contains millions of dollars’ worth of gold bars that belonged to my country before it became a communist state after World War II. But now that we are moving toward a democracy, there have been talks to use the gold bars for investment in our country and abroad to stimulate our economy.”

Stunned, Julianna sank into the nearest chair. “No wonder Kartoff is so insistent on finding it.”

“He will never release the hostages as long as he thinks he has a prayer of getting his hands on the treasure, Ms. Stevens,” he warned. “You’ve met with him. You know how ruthless he can be.”

Julianna did, indeed. The memory of that meeting would haunt her to her grave. “According to Major William Colton, Kartoff is holding nearly two hundred guests hostage, Mr. Ritka. I know the treasure is important to your country, but we can’t allow the hostages to be sacrificed for it. Because he will kill them if he doesn’t get the music box. You do know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he said grimly. “But he also has issues with me. Hasn’t he said from the beginning that he wouldn’t release the hostages until I was turned over to him? Tell him I will meet with him…after the hostages are released. You must make it clear to him that this is not negotiable. I won’t talk to anyone who’s holding innocent people at gunpoint.”

“You would do that?”

“Only if the hostages are released.”

If Julianna had had any lingering doubts about him, they all vanished with his offer. “I don’t know if the FBI will actually let you do that—you’ll have to discuss it with them when you get here—but I’m certainly going to run the idea past Kartoff. He’s so determined to get his hands on you and the music box, that may be the carrot we need to dangle in front of him to convince him to release the hostages.”

“Call him and see,” he said. “I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”

“Well?” Kurt said as soon as she hung up. “What did he say? What’s this carrot you’re going to hold out to Kartoff?”

“The music box,” she said, then quickly explained its significance and Ritka’s offer to meet with Kartoff to discuss it. “Keep your fingers crossed,” she told him as she picked up the phone and punched in the number to the mansion. “If Kartoff wants the treasure as badly as I think he does, this may actually work.”

Answering on the third ring, Kartoff said coldly, “I hope you have good news for me, Ms. Stevens. My patience is growing thin. Where is Ritka?”

“On his way,” she replied evenly, refusing to be intimidated. “He is willing to meet with you…on one condition. You must release the hostages. Your complaint is with him, not them.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, then he snapped, “Ritka is in no position to dictate terms to me! No one is going anywhere until he turns himself over to me and my men!”

Not giving her time to say another word, he slammed the phone down, severing the connection. Far from discouraged, Julianna merely replaced the phone on the receiver and looked up at Kurt with a crooked smile. “Well, that went over well. Let’s give him time to stew over it and see what happens.”

“If Kartoff really wants Ritka, he’s not going to get a better offer. He’d be stupid not to take it.”

Julianna agreed, but hostage-takers weren’t the brightest people in the world or they wouldn’t take hostages in the first place. It was generally a no-win situation and all they achieved by their desperate actions was jail time. Still, she was, at heart, an optimist. Surely Kartoff would see that this was an offer he couldn’t refuse.



Later, she couldn’t have said how long she and Kurt stood there watching the mansion and waiting for the phone to ring. Tom rejoined them after a while, once again accompanied by Billy Colton, and she quickly informed them of the latest turn of events. “Ritka is willing to meet with him once the hostages are released. Kartoff immediately rejected the idea, but I’m hoping he’ll come around once he thinks about it.”

“If he doesn’t,” Tom said, “we have to be prepared to take action. The major’s offered us his expertise. He recently headed up a Russian/American boot camp in St. Petersburg.”

Impressed, Kurt didn’t doubt that he would be an asset to their campaign. Six foot two, he was the picture of a lean, mean fighting machine. “We can use all the help we can get,” Kurt told him. “Especially since you’ve already been inside. Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he said grimly. “I want to get this bastard.”

Julianna only had to look at him to know that he was the kind of man who enjoyed a good fight. She appreciated his input, but she was still holding out hope that diplomacy would win the day. The clock continued to tick as tension tightened everyone’s nerves. Still, the phone remained stubbornly silent.

“The man’s a jackass,” Kurt muttered, swearing. “He’s got to realize he can’t win this.”

“Maybe we should consider going in the way the major helped get Ritka’s daughter out—through the roof,” Tom suggested, turning to Billy Colton. “There’s bound to be some bloodshed, but right now, there doesn’t seem to be any other way to resolve this.”

“No, wait!” Julianna cried. Her gaze still trained on the mansion, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Someone had pulled the front door open, and suddenly a mad rush of wedding guests were spilling out onto the front lawn. “Look! It worked. Kartoff is releasing the hostages!”

Chapter 9

Behind the yellow police tape that cordoned off the mansion and command center from the press and the curiosity seekers, pandemonium reigned as the released hostages ran to freedom. Pale and shaken and, in some instances, crying, the women practically fell into the waiting arms of the emergency medical staff that had been waiting for hours for their release. In the time it took to blink, it quickly became apparent that there were no men among them.

“Kartoff refused to allow them to leave. You have to get them out of there!”

“The man’s crazy! He said he’d line them all up and shoot them if his demands weren’t met.”

All talking at once as blue Santas from the police department circulated among them, passing out blankets and hot chocolate, they huddled in the cold night air, retelling their story again and again.

“They wouldn’t let us have anything to eat or drink or even go to the bathroom. They’re monsters!”

“They tore the house apart looking for a stupid music box. We really thought they were going to shoot us. I’d never been so scared in my life!”

“It was crazy. Kartoff kept asking about Ritka and the music box. He kept insisting that someone had to know where it was. We didn’t know what he was talking about.”

As Tom and a dozen FBI agents took their statements and questioned them about the conditions in the house, a cry suddenly went up from the crowd of Colton women and someone yelled, “Oh, my God! Lucy’s having her baby! We need help!”

Suddenly, everyone was talking at once. “Give her some space! Somebody call an ambulance! We’ve got to get her to a hospital.”

“No! Not without Rand!” Her voice a cry of pain in the night, Lucy Colton pushed her way through the crowd with her hand cradled protectively over her swollen stomach. “Meredith, please, your son promised me he would be by my side when the baby came.”

“But he’s still in the mansion,” Meredith Colton said worriedly. “You have to think of the baby, honey. Rand will join you as soon as he’s freed.”

“No! Someone has to go in there and get him out. I’m not going anywhere without him.”

She had a desperate look on her face that warned Meredith and the rest of the clan not to argue with her. Turning to the EMTs, her mother-in-law sighed in relief when the ambulance crew didn’t bat an eye at her stubbornness. The smallest EMT, a tiny fairy of a woman, clucked her tongue and soothed, “I know how you feel, dear. I felt the same way when my first one came. I didn’t want my Johnny out of my sight. Of course, he was a basket case when we got down to the nitty-gritty—he passed out right there in the delivery room—and I had to do it all by myself anyway.”

Helping her toward the stretcher, she patted her kindly. “You’ll be fine, sweetie. How long have you been having contractions?”

For a moment, the younger woman didn’t seem inclined to answer, then she admitted sheepishly, “Two hours.”

“Good Lord, and you’re just now saying something? Why didn’t you speak up when you first started having pains?”

“Because I didn’t want that pig anywhere near my baby!” Lucy said fiercely. “I thought if I could just hang on until we were released, the baby would be safe.”

Helping her down onto the stretcher, the EMT chuckled. “You’ve got more guts than I do. You just take it easy and let us take care of you now. Have you decided on a name? I remember when Johnny and I were picking out names….”

Chattering on as if they were best friends, she quickly and efficiently strapped her onto the stretcher, then nodded for her two co-workers to wheel Lucy to the ambulance. She was still reminiscing about her Johnny when Meredith hurried forward to join them. “I’m going, too.”

Only then did Lucy acknowledge that, like it or not, she was going to the hospital. Tears glistening in her eyes, she reached for her mother-in-law’s hand. “You can’t go,” she said huskily. “You need to stay here for Joe and Rand.”

“The others will be here,” Meredith assured her, her own eyes also bright with tears. “I can’t let you have my grandchild by yourself, dear. I’m coming with you.”

She could be just as stubborn as her daughter-in-law, and Lucy knew it. Her smile tremulous, she said, “Thank you,” just as another contraction hit her. Seeing the pain on her face, Meredith quickly climbed into the ambulance. A split second later, it pulled away from the curb.

The scream of the siren was still echoing on the night air when the bride, still wearing her wedding dress and looking more than a little frazzled, pushed through to the front of the crowd and grabbed Kurt by the arm. “Please…we need some help!” she cried. “My sister’s missing!”

“We haven’t been able to find her anywhere,” an older woman said as she joined her. “I’m her mother, Ellen Cosgrove, and this is my daughter, Samantha. No one’s seen Juliet since that monster Kartoff and his men forced themselves into the mansion.”

Pulling out a small notebook, Kurt quickly began jotting down information. “Her name’s Juliet Cosgrove?”

The bride nodded, blinking back tears. “She’s five foot six, slender, with golden-brown hair.”

“She was wearing a burgundy bridesmaid’s dress,” the older woman added as she slipped an arm around her daughter’s shoulder. “I’m afraid something awful’s happened to her.”

“I understand, ma’am,” Kurt said sympathetically. “We’ll do everything we can to find her. When as the last time anyone saw her?”

A tall blonde standing in the middle of the crowd of women raised her hand and said, “She was talking to Ian Rafferty a few minutes before Kartoff’s men forced their way through the front door.”

Jotting the name down, Kurt glanced back up at the blonde. “What did she do when she realized that terrorists were taking over the house?”

“I don’t know,” she said regretfully. “When I turned to tell her to run, she was gone. It was like she just vanished.”

“And Mr. Rafferty?” he asked, arching a brow at her and the other women. “Did anyone see what happened to him?”

“He was gone, too,” the blonde replied. “No one has seen him or Juliet since.”

“They must be hiding somewhere in the house,” Samantha Cosgrove said, her blue eyes dark with worry. “You have to find them.”

“We’ll do what we can, ma’am,” Kurt assured her. “The hostages’ safety is always our first priority. If your sister has managed to stay hidden this long without being discovered, chances are, Kartoff and his men won’t find her.”

Sympathizing with them, Kurt wished there was something else he could say to reassure them, but he’d learned a long time ago that there was no way to predict how a hostage situation would turn out. And that was the one thing he hated about his job. All he could give worried friends and family members were words.

Tears welling in Samantha Cosgrove Colton’s eyes, she said huskily, “I guess all we can do now is wait and pray.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied roughly. “If we hear any news about her or Mr. Rafferty, I’ll let you know.”

Turning away, wishing he could do more, Kurt rejoined Julianna just as a black Mercedes was granted entrance to the cordoned-off area and parked in the spot where the ambulance had been only moments before. He took one look at the dignified gentleman who stepped from the car and said, “That must be Helmut Ritka.”

“Thank God!” Julianna sighed in relief. “I’ll get Tom. If Ritka’s going to meet with Kartoff, we need to make some plans.”

She didn’t have to look far for Tom—he and Billy Colton had seen the Mercedes pull in and had realized, as they had, that Ritka had finally arrived. Stepping forward to greet the diplomat, Tom introduced himself, then Julianna and Kurt. When he came to Major Colton, he said, “And this is Major Colton. He escaped with your daughter.”

Holding out his hand, Billy said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

The older man gave him a hard look, but he shook his hand graciously. “You rescued my daughter. I’m forever in your debt, Major.”

“It was my pleasure, sir,” he said gruffly. “Your daughter is quite a remarkable woman.”

Ritka nodded, his hard expression softening to that of a proud father. “Yes, she is. I would like to meet with you later and talk, if possible.”

“Of course,” Billy said. “I look forward to it once this mess is settled.”

Turning back to Tom, Ritka said, “As I have told Ms. Stevens, I will do whatever I can to help the situation, including meet with Kartoff. My daughter wants me to give up the music box…and the key to the vaults. She insists that no amount of money is as valuable as human life, and I am forced to agree with her. If Kartoff will release the hostages, the music box is his.”

Tom exchanged a speaking glance with the others, and said, “It’s funny you should mention that. We’ve been tossing around the idea of using the music box as a carrot—with your permission, of course. We want to offer Kartoff the music box in return for the release of the rest of the hostages.”

“I have no problem with that,” the older man replied, “but I seriously doubt that he’ll agree to it. Once he takes a stand, he doesn’t back down. What will you do if he says no? Or he agrees, and you tell him where the music box is, and then he refuses to release the hostages?”

“We are prepared to use force, if necessary,” he said flatly. “This situation cannot continue.”

Ritka, to his credit, didn’t hesitate. “Make him whatever offer you need to.”

“Thank you, sir,” Tom said. “We’ll put the wheels in motion.”

“I’d like to speak to some of the women who were released,” he said. “I feel responsible, though I had no way of knowing that Kartoff was planning such an outrageous raid. I would have warned the Coltons—and the police.”

“Of course you would have. No one is blaming you, Mr. Ritka,” Julianna assured him. “Whatever Kartoff thinks you may have done in Chekagovia, nothing justifies his actions tonight.”

“I appreciate that,” he said gruffly. “I still wish to speak to the women and apologize for the actions of my countrymen. If you need my help in any way, just let me know.”

He left them with a nod and made his way to where the worried bride and her mother, along with the Colton women, were gathered near the first aid station. Sipping coffee and hot chocolate, they stood wrapped in blankets, watching the mansion down the street, waiting.

In the silence left behind by his leave-taking, Billy Colton said, “If anyone’s interested in my opinion, I think he’s right. Kartoff isn’t going to release the hostages. He needs them to get out of there and back to Chekagovia.”

“So you don’t think we should even try to negotiate with him?”

Tom asked with a frown.

The major didn’t hesitate. “Oh, you can try. But you should also have a backup plan…just in case.”

“What would you recommend?” Kurt asked.

“I’d go in at 0200,” the major said promptly. “Kartoff’s men have been on alert for hours. By O200, they’ll be tired, and I doubt that they’ll be expecting a raid on our part.”

“Ready or not, they’re not going to let you storm the mansion without putting up a fight,” Julianna pointed out. “A lot of people will be killed.”

“Not necessarily,” Billy argued. “I’m not talking about going in through the front door. That’s why we’ll need all the plans of the house that can be found, from the time it was built to the present. There may be an old entrance that no one knows about that we could use to gain admittance into the house.”



Impressed with the major’s bold strategy, Kurt grinned. He knew there’d been something about Billy Colton he liked right from the beginning. He was a man who knew how to make things happen. “I like the way you think, Major.” Glancing at Tom, he arched a brow. “What do you say, Tom? Julianna’s done a good job of negotiating so far, but I get the feeling Kartoff has only been playing with us. He’s going to hold on to the men as long as he can. Before it’s over with, we’re going to have to go in.”

Not as quick to make a decision as Billy Colton, Tom hesitated, and in that moment, his cell phone rang. Answering it, he listened a moment, then began to smile. “I’ll tell him,” he told the caller and hung up. When he glanced at the major, he grinned. “That was the hospital, Major. Apparently, Lucy Colton didn’t quite make it to the hospital. She had a baby boy en route.”

Relief flared in Billy’s hazel eyes, then quickly hardened into determination. “That baby is not going to grow up without a father. And my father, brothers and cousins are still in there. I’m not going to stand by and let them die at the hands of a madman and not do anything.”

Put that way, Tom had to concede he was right. Glancing at Kurt, he said, “See what house plans you can track down. If Kartoff doesn’t cooperate, we’ll go in at 0200, as the major suggested.”

Kurt didn’t have to be told twice. Turning to the phones, he quickly relayed the order to the police department.



When Julianna placed the call to Kartoff a few minutes later, her fingers were anything but steady as she punched in the number. So much was riding on this! All Kartoff had to do was to cooperate, and the situation could end peacefully, with no loss of life. The problem was, he didn’t care who he had to kill as long as he got what he wanted.

“So, Ms. Stevens,” he greeted her the second he answered the phone. “The women have been released. I expect something in return. Where are Ritka and the music box?”

“Actually, Mr. Ritka is here,” she said smoothly. “As for the music box, I’ll be happy to tell you where it is…on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You release the rest of the hostages.”

“Of course I will release them,” he said promptly, amused. “After I have the music box in my hands.”

Julianna had Ritka’s okay—all she had to do was tell Kartoff where the music box was and the hostages might be free in a matter of moments. Still, she cringed at the idea of giving the Chekagovian national treasure to a terrorist. Hesitating, she covered the mouthpiece of the phone with her hand and arched a brow at Helmut Ritka. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?” she asked quietly. “If you have any doubts at all, we’ll find another way to negotiate the hostages’ release. Just say the word.”

“Thank you for the offer,” he said graciously, “but it’s the right thing to do.”

Her heart pounding, Julianna turned her attention back to the phone and Kartoff. “All right,” she told him. “I’ll tell you where the music box is and you’ll release the rest of the hostages. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” he replied promptly. “Where is it?”

“In the pocket of Eva Ritka’s black cashmere coat, which is hanging in a closet at the top of the stairs on the second floor.”

“This had better not be a trick, Ms. Stevens,” he warned. “I don’t like tricks.” And with no other warning than that, he hung up.

Sitting back, Julianna sighed. “It’s done. Now we wait.”



When they all assembled thirty minutes later, there was no sign of the hostages, and no one at the command center was surprised. Still, Julianna was outraged that Kartoff had lied so blatantly. “You gave your word!” she told him when she called him, demanding to know why he hadn’t released the hostages.

“You haven’t met all of my demands,” he retorted. “If you’ll remember, Ms. Stevens, I said I also wanted Ritka, a million dollars and a plane with enough fuel to take me and my commrades, along with Ritka, back to Chekagovia. Call me when everything’s ready.”

He hung up, obviously thinking he had the last word. He was wrong.

Resigned to the inevitable, she turned to Tom, who, along with the others, had blatantly eavesdropped on her entire conversation with Kartoff. “So much for negotiating,” she said flatly. “Until all of his original demands are met, he’s not releasing anyone.”

“Then we’ll go in and get them,” Billy Colton retorted. With that announcement, he rolled out the house plans for the mansion on the folding table that had been set up in the command center.

Helmut Ritka had joined them not only to give them additional information about the mansion he had lived in for many years, but to also tell them everything he could about George Kartoff. He took one look at the plans and was as surprised as the rest of them when it was discovered that there was a secret underground entrance that connected the mansion with the house across the street.

“I had no idea,” he said, shocked. “I had my security team go over the place from top to bottom before my daughter and I moved in, and I was assured that the house was as safe as your Fort Knox. How could my men have missed something so obvious? All they had to do was look at the house plans.”

Studying several of the plans that chronicled the additions to the mansion over the years, Tom frowned. “Only one of the plans has any reference to it—the ones that were used to add a new kitchen onto the house during the Civil War. The owners must have felt like they needed an escape route in case Washington was ever invaded. The plans for a new wing twenty years later make no mention of a tunnel, which means it was probably boarded up.”

“How difficult will it be to uncover it?” Julianna asked with a frown, glancing up from the plans. “If Kartoff suspects what we’re doing, there won’t be any men left alive to rescue.”

“I’ve already got a team working on it,” Tom assured her. “They’re trained for this type of thing—Kartoff won’t hear a thing.”

“Good,” Kurt said in satisfaction. “The special forces and SWAT team can go in through the tunnel—”

“While Kartoff’s escort to the airport arrives and distracts him and his men,” Julianna said, already guessing where Kurt was going with the plan. “We can even have Mr. Ritka in the car. As long as it’s bulletproof, he’ll be safe.”

“And Kartoff will think he’s landed butter-side up,” Kurt continued. “We’ll let him think Ritka and a million bucks are waiting for him in the limo out front, and he and his men will never stop to think that the threat is coming from inside the mansion, not outside. By the time they realize their mistake, it’ll be too late for them to fight back.”



Personally, Kurt thought he and Julianna had come up with a brilliant plan. Why couldn’t they have done that when there were married? Instead, they’d continually argued over the smallest things and, consequently, never got around to even discussing the big things.

Impressed, Billy Colton studied the two of them. “Have you two worked together before? You’re damn good together.”

“You know what they say about great minds,” Kurt retorted, avoiding the awkward subject. “So what do you say?”

“It sounds good to me,” Billy said. “How about you, Mr. Ritka? Are you willing to play decoy? You’ll be protected at all times.”

“I would do it even if you couldn’t assure my safety,” the older man said. “Considering everything that’s happened here tonight because of me, it’s the least I can do.”

All eyes turned to Tom. This time, he didn’t hesitate. “O200 it is.”

Chapter 10

With the decision made to go in, the real work began. They all knew there would be no second chances, not when they were dealing with a man like Kartoff. If they weren’t able to bring all the hostages out, there wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind that those left behind would be killed. They were determined that wasn’t going to happen. So every segment of the raid had to be planned, right down to possible emergency contingencies. It was tedious—and nerve-racking. Julianna had to call Kartoff several times, pretending that she and the authorities were considering giving in to his demands. And all the while, she was terrified that she might inadvertently say something that might lead the terrorists to become suspicious. If she did, he gave no sign of it.

The planning of the raid wasn’t any easier on the men. Each member of the SWAT team and the U.S. Special Forces that would be involved in the raid had to know not only their own moves, but those of the others. So time and again, they went over each other’s roles, trying to plan for everything.

Then, all they had to do was wait, and it turned out that Billy Colton wasn’t any better at that than Kurt. Prowling the command center like a big jungle cat who felt the walls closing in on him, the major finally growled, “I’ve got to get out of here for a few minutes. I’ll be back in time for the raid.”

He slipped away into the darkness with no other explanation than that, leaving Julianna blinking in surprise. “Well, that was unexpected. He didn’t seem the nervous type. Where do you suppose he went?”

Kurt only shrugged, but he had a pretty good idea that the major had slipped away to have his talk with Helmut Ritka. He didn’t know what had happened between the major and Eva when they’d found themselves trapped in the mansion’s attic, but Kurt had only had to see the look that came across Billy Colton’s face when he talked about Eva to know that he’d fallen hard for the diplomat’s daughter. And he sympathized with him. Because he’d done the same with Julianna…again.

Another man might have been kicking himself for even thinking about starting over with her when nothing had really changed in their lives. They were both busy with their own jobs, and the danger that went hand in hand with his work would, no doubt, still worry Julianna. But he couldn’t even begin to describe how much he loved her. He wanted her back, damn it! If he was lucky enough to win her back, he was confident they could make things work this time. They were both older and wiser. He’d learned the hard way that love could be strangled if it was held on to too tightly. That was a mistake he wouldn’t make again. He couldn’t change the danger associated with his job, but he was confident that despite how busy their lives were, they would always be there for each other…if she loved him as much as he loved her.

That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. He wanted to ask her how she felt about him, but he couldn’t. This wasn’t the time or place. When he told her he loved her again, there wouldn’t be any other people around and they certainly wouldn’t be in the middle of a hostage situation. The two of them would be alone, with no distractions but each other.

In the meantime, he had to keep his mind on the job at hand. Julianna didn’t make it easy for him. Every time she moved, every time she smiled, he felt as if she reached out and touched him. Watching her, aching to touch her, to love her, he hardly heard Tom when he told him that he would be going in with the SWAT team.



Julianna heard, however, and her heart dropped to her knees in alarm. She didn’t want him to go, didn’t want him to risk going into a building where a madman and his followers were waiting to kill anyone who got in their way. But even as she waited for the old paralyzing fear to grip her, she couldn’t help but notice the maturity and confidence with which Kurt consulted his fellow SWAT team members. In the past, he’d acted like a gun-toting cowboy ready to rush into battle, and that had always terrified her. She’d always been afraid he was going to get himself killed, but now she realized he would never take foolish chances. He was professional, coolheaded, in control of his own emotions and the situation.

Watching him, her heart expanding with love, she felt a huge load lift from her shoulders. She could trust him to take care of himself. There were no guarantees in life, but she knew it was safe to love him, to trust him with her heart. He would be careful and do everything he could to come back to her.

Tears gathered in her eyes at the thought, and at that moment, she knew she couldn’t let him go into danger without telling him how she felt. He needed to know…and she needed to tell him. Impulsively, she stepped past Tom and quietly pushed her way past the other SWAT team members who had gathered at the command center to confer. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said huskily, “but I need a moment with Kurt. There’s something we need to discuss.”

Surprised, Kurt let her pull him a few steps away. “What is it? Did we miss something—”

Without a word, she stepped close, looped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss that told him everything that was in her heart. Still, she had to say the words, and she didn’t care who was listening. Drawing back slightly, she smiled up at him through the tears that welled in her eyes. “I love you,” she said huskily. “I wanted you to know that. I always worried about you when you’re working, but I’m not going to fuss at you anymore to be careful. I know you will be.”



If he hadn’t already loved her, Kurt would have lost his heart to her at that moment. “Oh, honey, I love you, too. These last three years, I’ve been miserable without you. I wanted to tell you, but…” His smile rueful, he nodded toward Tom and the group of SWAT team members who were trying hard to give them a little privacy and failing miserably. “These guys aren’t exactly romantic, and I wanted to be alone with you. Later, when this is all over, we’re going to talk. Okay?”

Wiping away the tears that spilled over her lashes, she stepped close for a quick, fierce hug. “Okay,” she said thickly. “That’s a date.”

There was little time for any talking after that. While they were telling each other how much they loved each other, Billy Colton had returned and the Special Forces and SWAT team had all donned bulletproof vests and strapped on extra ammunition. The time to strike was now.

Kurt’s eyes met Julianna’s, his hands squeezed hers, and it was time to go. Without a word, he stepped away from her and joined his fellow SWAT team members. Silently, soundlessly, they turned and faded into the night as they made their way toward the old house across the street, where they would enter the secret tunnel that led to the mansion’s basement.

A few seconds later, Julianna blinked, and just that quickly, Kurt was gone. She didn’t make a sound, but beside her, Tom heard the worry she wouldn’t let herself voice. “He’ll be fine,” he said gruffly. “You didn’t find each other again, only to lose each other now. Hold on to your faith, Julianna. He’ll come back to you.”

If she hadn’t believed that, she didn’t know how she would have gotten through the next few minutes without falling apart. Watching the drama unfold across the street from the safety of the command center was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She wanted to go after Kurt, to help him somehow, but all she could do was wait.

Down the street, the limo that held Helmut Ritka slowly started down the long drive to the mansion. To all appearances, the limo looked like any other limousine, but Tom had assured everyone that the government-owned vehicle was as safe as a tank. The windows were bulletproof, the doors and body of the car reinforced with steel. Nothing short of a bazooka was going to take it out, so even though Ritka was clearly visible through the untinted windows of the back seat, there was little Kartoff could do to hurt him.

The terrorist, however, didn’t know that, and Julianna could just imagine the gleeful celebrating going on inside the mansion. At this point, Kartoff, no doubt, thought he had won and was already planning ways to spend the ransom money. What he didn’t know was that the minute the limo started down the drive to the mansion, the SWAT and Special Service teams that had quietly slipped into the house across the street entered the tunnel linking it to the mansion.

Her heart pounding, Julianna prayed, but she couldn’t say what she prayed. All she could think of was Kurt and how little time they’d had together. If she lost him now, after just now finding him again, she didn’t think she could bear it.

Dear God, please keep him safe. Please, please, please…

Suddenly, angry shouting shattered the silence of the night. Hugging herself, Julianna stood still as stone, only to recoil at the rapid, repeated, hollow sound of gunfire that echoed down the deserted street. “Oh God, oh God,” she murmured, horrified. “Please keep him safe. Keep them all safe.”

The gunfire ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving behind a deadly silence that was far worse than the sound of gunfire to Julianna. Time jerked to an abrupt stop. Down the street, nothing moved. Her heart pounding painfully, Julianna waited…and prayed with increasing urgency.

A sob bubbling up in Julianna’s throat and tears pooling in her eyes, she found herself holding her breath as the front door of the mansion was suddenly pulled open and Kurt and the SWAT team stepped outside with the terrorists held at gunpoint. Behind them, the now free hostages stepped out into the dark, chilly night.

A cheer started to go up from the command center. Then everyone saw the hostage being carefully carried outside by the paramedics who had rushed inside just as soon as it was safe. At the wounded man’s side, the groom held the wounded man’s hand as he was carefully taken to a nearby ambulance.

From the crowd of women who strained to get past the barriers, whispers of concern traveled quickly. “Oh, my God!” she heard someone say. “That’s Ian Rafferty!”

“It looks like he’s been shot in the back!”

“Where’s Juliet?”

No one had an answer for that.

Whatever triumph she felt evaporating, Julianna turned to Tom, who, like her, had had to stand on the sidelines and watch the drama unfold. Impulsively, she hugged him. “It’s over, Tom,” she said huskily. “Thank God, it’s over!”



It was a Christmas Eve they would all remember the rest of their lives, but there was no time to discuss it. The Colton women, anxious to assure themselves that their men were all right, surged past the barriers and rushed down the street toward the mansion. As anxious as they to check her own man, Julianna joined them and was quickly caught up in the desperate rush to find loved ones.

She had, however, lost sight of Kurt. In the past, she would have been frantic until she touched him again, kissed him, and she would have been hurt if he hadn’t sought her out immediately. But she was no longer that insecure woman. She’d seen that he’d safely survived the raid, and she was confident he loved her. They would find each other eventually.

“Julianna!” Suddenly breaking through the crowd on the heels of her thought, Kurt reached for her, and in the next second, she was in his arms. She hadn’t realized how much she needed the feel of his strong arms around her until she felt him hold her tight.

“Oh, Kurt, thank God you’re all right!”

Pulling her closer, he would have liked nothing more than to just hold her until their hearts settled down to a slow, steady beat, but that wasn’t possible. At least not now. “I’m fine, sweetheart. I wish I could stay and tell you all about the raid, but Kartoff managed to escape…with the music box, of course. We’re searching for him now.”

“Oh, no!”

“Don’t worry,” he said grimly, “there’s no way in hell he’s going to get away with this. But it could be a while before this is over. I just wanted you to know that I’m okay.”

The search for Kartoff was a frantic one, and Kurt needed to get back to it, but if there was one thing he’d learned over the last few hours, it was that Julianna’s peace of mind was more important than his job. In the past, he would have sent one of his co-workers to tell her that he was all right, but not now. She wasn’t in love with one of his co-workers—she loved him. And he loved her, more than he’d ever thought possible. He didn’t fool himself into thinking they wouldn’t argue in the future, but this time around, they knew how precious love was. They wouldn’t chance losing each other again.

“I love you,” he said huskily. “Let’s splurge and spend Christmas together at the Georgetown Inn. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can and we’ll make plans—if that’s all right with you.”

With everything that was going on, they hadn’t spoken of the future, and he suddenly wondered if he was taking it for granted that she wanted the same thing he did. But he needn’t have worried. The smile that lit her face stole the breath right out of his lungs. “One day, we’ll tell our children about our first real Christmas together,” she said softly. Rising up on her tiptoes, she kissed him tenderly. “I’ll be waiting for you,” she promised. “Hurry.”

She didn’t have to tell him a second time. Giving her one last quick kiss, he rushed back to work with a smile that lit up his entire face. Whatever happened with Kartoff, however long the search took, he knew she would be waiting for him when it was all over. Nothing else mattered.

Epilogue

The original black-and-white version of It’s a Wonderful Life played on the TV, and in the fireplace, a fire crackled merrily. Still in bed at eleven o’clock in the morning, Julianna couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so content. Everything she wanted was right there at her fingertips.

Watching her dreamy smile as she slowly stroked her fingers up and down his arm, Kurt lifted an amused brow at her. “What are you thinking?”

“This is the best Christmas I ever had and I didn’t get a single gift,” she said with a grin. “Except you.”

“So I’m the best Christmas you ever had?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely. We were very lucky to find each other again.”

Sobering, he agreed. “We weren’t the only ones. Last night could have been a real tragedy for the Coltons. Their entire family could have been wiped out.”

“But they weren’t, and that’s what’s important.”

“I don’t know how Kartoff found a way to slip through our fingers,” Kurt said in disgust. “He won’t get very far—there’s an APB out on him, and after all the news coverage of last night, he won’t be able to show himself on the dark side of the moon without somebody recognizing him.”

“Even if he does somehow manage to get to Chekagovia, he’ll never get his hands on the treasure. Ritka will have it well guarded by now. But enough about that,” she said, shaking off the somber mood. “It’s Christmas and we have a lot to celebrate.” Her brown eyes twinkling, she gave him a quick kiss and sat up in bed to grab the very expensive bottle of champagne they’d ordered from room service earlier.

Watching her, loving her, Kurt wanted to drag her back down to the bed and celebrate another way, but he grinned instead and told himself he could wait. “And just exactly what are we celebrating?”

Her dimples flashing as she poured them both champagne, she said, “Well, for one thing, a new baby boy in the Colton family.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, clicking glasses with her. “What else?”

“We got everyone out alive.”

“Thank God,” he said, clicking glasses with her again. Taking another sip of champagne, he grinned. “And?”

“Us,” she said proudly, raising her glass again in a toast. “Last night, I didn’t think there was a chance in H-E-Double-L of the two of us ever speaking again, let alone getting back together. That just goes to show you what I know.”

“Then Kartoff crashed a wedding and had the ill manners to hold everyone at gunpoint,” he said with a rueful smile. “‘Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.’”

“This time, we’ll make it work,” she vowed.

“Forever,” he promised.

Their eyes shining with love, they solemnly clicked their glasses together, then leaned close to seal their vow with a kiss. Moaning softly, she pressed against him and felt like she’d stepped into a dream. Old hurts had been healed, the past had been forgotten. There was only today…and the future…and a love she never wanted to end.

Emotions rising in her, she didn’t say a word as he set their champagne glasses aside, then traded kiss for kiss, but she didn’t have to. They’d never had a problem communicating without words. Her mouth softened under his, her hands tenderly stroked his face, his chest, the back of his neck. It seemed like she had been waiting three years for this moment, and she hadn’t even known it. She couldn’t ask him if it had been the same for him, but she didn’t need to. Leaning over her, stroking her hair back from her face, he said thickly, “Nothing has been the same without you. Let me love you, honey.”

She couldn’t have denied him any more than she could have denied herself. He kissed her with a gentle hunger that brought tears to her eyes and just that easily, he made her body hum and her senses blur. During the twenty months of their marriage, they’d made love too many times to count, but it had never been like this. Not slow and hesitant and infinitely sweet, but as if it had been the first time for either of them. Their fingers stumbled, brushed skin on skin, and their breaths caught in a soft hush that seemed to echo like a gasp.

And when he moved with her, filling her, stoking a fire that already burned too hot, her heart just seemed to expand.

She loved him so much more than before.

The truth was like a comet streaking through the night, stunning her, filling her with a joy she had to share. “Kurt!”

“I know, sweetheart,” he groaned, gathering her close against his pounding heart. “It’s different, isn’t it? Better?”

“Perfect,” she said, tightening her arms around him. “I didn’t think I could love anyone this much.”

“Me, either,” he said, kissing her again. “Somehow, we found our way back to each other. I don’t know how, but I know we’ll never lose our way again. You’re mine.”

“And you’re mine,” she echoed.

Smiling into each other’s eyes, they once again reached for their champagne glasses and toasted their love. “Forever.”

This time it really was forever.