Samantha Logan parked her car in front of her family's dilapidated summer cabin. Her fingers trembled as she pulled the key from the ignition. Well, she'd done it this time! The morning newspapers would expose the entire disaster, complete with the glaring caption-"Runaway Bride."

Thank goodness she had found out what a lying, cheating skunk Grayson St. James was before she made the mistake of marrying him. No one would think of looking for her here. She would hide out until the furor died down.

She walked up the rutted path, retrieved the spare key from above the door, and stuck it in the lock. It wouldn't turn. The darned thing was probably rusted. Frustrated, she threw down her bags and got a good grip on the doorknob, rattling it as she tried to force the lock.

Suddenly, the door flew open, taking her with it. She tumbled inside the pitch-dark room. Crashing to the floor with a thump, the air whooshed from her lungs.

Stunned, she desperately gasped for air as a heavy person jumped onto her back, pinning her to the floor. A mingling of woodsy cologne and testosterone washed over her as he flipped her around. She now lay pinned under his muscular, very male body-if the bulge that was pressed against the junction of her thighs was anything to go by.

He was too big to be her ex-fiancé, but could Grayson have dispatched some thug to retrieve her? Or even worse, had she stumbled across a squatter, a criminal hiding out in the woods? Panicked, she took a wild swing into the darkness. Her fist crunched into hard flesh and bone as she struck a glancing blow off his jaw.

It had no effect on the hulking brute on top of her. The solid wall of muscle shook off her blow with a muffled grunt and flattened her even more with his weight. She tried to hit him again. He blocked her move, capturing both her wrists in a steely grip.

One of his large hands began running over her trembling body. As it skimmed over her breasts, she let out a blood-curdling shriek.

He froze, his hand still cupping her breast. "Stop that damned caterwauling."

Samantha recognized the voice, and her terror melted like ice cream on the Fourth of July. If there was anyone she didn't want to see, or be felt up by in the dark, it was Jake Ramsey.

"Ramsey, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, if it isn't my little Sunshine. What's the matter, honey, cold feet?"

Samantha pushed against his rigid body. "Take your hand off my breast, goon."

He removed his hand, but not without a teasing squeeze. "Sorry if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Sunshine."

Samantha frowned at his sarcasm, as his solid weight slowly lifted off her aching body. He knew very well that she hated the nickname he'd hung on her during her turbulent teens. Obviously, he hadn't mellowed in the seven years she'd been away.

The lights came on and she glared at the tall, redheaded, brute that was hobbling her way. He had a few sprinkles of silver at the temples now, but she wasn't fooled into thinking the years had softened him. She'd just had a sample of his rough treatment.

He was dressed, or should she say undressed, in a tight pair of jeans that were halfway unzipped. His feet and his chest were bare. Her gazed followed the sprinkle of hair on his chest to where it whorled around his navel and disappeared into his pants. He looked like a sleep-rumpled male centerfold come to life. That is, if one discounted the brooding expression in his gunmetal gray eyes.

She ignored his speculative gaze and focused on his limp. It was gratifying to know that she'd gotten the better of one man this horrendous evening. But why was Ramsey here? He definitely wasn't one of Grayson's pawns. Had matchmaking Uncle Delbert gotten wind of her departure? One look at Ramsey's grim expression told her he wasn't one of cupid's little helpers. No, her father must have found out about her departure prematurely and sent the goon squad after her.

Ignoring the hand Ramsey semi-gallantly held out to assist her; she picked herself up off the floor. She slanted an assessing glance his way. His stony expression was as hard to read as always. "Did dad send you after me?"

"So, I was right." He quirked an eyebrow stating flatly, "You did cut and run."

Samantha brushed the dust off the seat of her pants and scowled at him. "I wouldn't put it that way. And anyway, it's none of your business."

His mouth kicked up in a triumphant grin as he sat down on the arm of the sofa. "Then why did you think I was sent to retrieve you?"

She shrugged and looked away from his too penetrating gaze. "Isn't rounding up wayward daughters one of your many duties as my father's hired goon?"

"That's private investigator, not hired goon," he explained, patiently adding, "I got out of the wayward daughter business when you blew town seven years ago."

Irritated by his disapproving tone, she shot an annoyed glare his way and her attention was drawn once again by his half-naked body. She couldn't help staring. She snapped her attention back to his face in time to see him smirking at her. The jerk knew he was getting to her. "I'm not saying another word to you until you zip up your pants."

He smiled. "Afraid?"

"Disgusted." She glowered at him. The clashes with Ramsey as her father's henchman were a part of her rebellious teens that she didn't like to dwell upon. Leaving home and making her own way in the world without her father's money was the best thing she'd ever done.

Ramsey's jaw tightened as he zipped his pants. "What happened, Sunshine? Grayson not so hot in the sack?"

Samantha closed her eyes as an appalling image of catching Grayson in the act with another woman flashed before her. "Listen, jerk-face. I am tired, cold, and hungry. I've had one hell of a rotten day, and I'm in no mood to put up with snide remarks from the likes of you. I don't care why you're here. Get out!"

He smiled grimly, showing even, white teeth. "Sorry, Sunshine, no can do. I'm here on vacation, and I'm in no mood to be booted out of my snug bed by a spoiled little rich girl. Now, say you're sorry for disturbing me and run back to daddy."

She glared at him. He was a dangerous man, but she knew he always held himself under complete control. She'd found that out the hard way once. Seven years ago she would have let him run her off, but now she was made of sterner stuff. She plopped onto a chair. "I'm not leaving."

"How about I throw you out?" he asked in a quiet tone.

She gritted her teeth. "How about I tell my father what a goon you are and get you fired?"

A crackle sounded from outside. "You in the house come out with your hands up!"

Samantha jumped at the order shouted through a bullhorn. She cast a startled glance Ramsey's way. He didn't look at all surprised at the interruption. "Who's that?"

"The police."

Samantha gaped at his matter-of-fact response. "Police! What in the heck is going on?"

"You tripped the burglar alarm, Sunshine." Ramsey flashed a victorious smile.

Samantha gazed at his shark-like smile gleaming in the dimly lit room and shuddered. There was no burglar alarm. Or at least there hadn't been seven years ago. She wrinkled her nose, noting his triumphant expression. It seemed that things had changed in the interim, but why would her father go to the expense of protecting this run down cabin they seldom used? It didn't make any sense. "Well, go tell them there's no problem."

"But there is," he said with a cool smile. "Breaking and entering is a crime."

Samantha's eyes widened at the implied threat. "This is my cabin."

"Correction, it's your daddy's cabin. There is a distinction. Maybe a night in jail will teach it to you."

Her last ounce of civility vanished as she jumped to her feet. "I'm not the one who's going to end up in jail, goon." She watched the storm clouds gather in his gray eyes and took a nervous step back. She'd gone too far. Maybe it would be safer to take her chances with the cops. She spun on her heel and ran toward the door with Ramsey's footsteps in hot pursuit.

He closed the distance, grabbing her arm as she reached for the doorknob. Samantha lashed out, slamming her heel against his kneecap. His long leg buckled and he hit the floor groaning, clutching his leg. She spared one backward glance at the look of pure astonishment on Ramsey's rugged face, before she tore open the door. A bright light shone out of the darkness, blinding her, stopping her in her tracks.

"For heaven's sake, Sammy, I could have shot you!"

"Kathy, is that you?" Samantha squinted past the light as she stepped onto the porch. Astonished to see her childhood friend dressed in a police uniform, she ran toward Kathy and safety, leaving Ramsey far behind.

"Who did you expect, Santa Claus? What's going on, Wonder Woman?"

Samantha heard her childhood nickname and smiled, her tension ratcheting down a few notches. "I knocked him down, Super Girl." She pointed at the fallen Ramsey with personal pride. "All you have to do is arrest him."

"I came as soon as I got word of a disturbance." Kathy aimed the flashlight beam at Ramsey, who was still lying in the doorway "You did this?"

Samantha frowned at her old friend's horrified tone. Of course she'd defended herself, and would again in similar circumstances.

"I want her arrested for assault." Ramsey pointed an accusing finger at Samantha, grimacing as he got to his feet.

Samantha was outraged by the accusation. "Just who was chasing whom? If you hadn't turned violent I wouldn't have had to kick you." She took a step toward him and was halted by the dangerous glint in his eye. He was back in goon mode and she knew better than to get too close. "As for criminal charges, how about assault and battery? That should put you away for a while."

"Will you two stop your bickering so I can get a few facts straight," Kathy interjected.

"Fine." Samantha was certain Kathy would side with her. She slanted a confident smile Ramsey's way and noticed he was watching her with narrowed eyes.

"Okay by me," he said, adding with an enigmatic smile, "I've got nothing to hide."

Kathy nodded. "Let's take this inside where I can make out a report if necessary."

Samantha resented his implication that she was up to no good. Her reason for being here was none of his business. She brushed past Ramsey, refusing to let him get to her as she entered the cabin and took a seat at the dinette. He slid into the seat across from her with a confident air.

Kathy leaned against the counter and flipped open her notepad. "Okay, let's have Sammy's version first," she said, clicking her pen.

Samantha recalled their frightening tussle on the floor and glared at him. "I came here for a nice quiet rest. I started to open the door and Ramsey proceeded to drag me through the doorway, manhandle me, and grab himself a cheap feel in the process." She bristled at his derisive snort following her last statement.

"Now, it's your turn, Jake."

She was annoyed by Kathy's friendly tone. Jake was it? Just how cozy were these two? She slanted a glance Kathy's way, noticing that she didn't seem to be at all put off by Ramsey's state of undress.

"As you know, I've been here for the past week on vacation. It's all quite legal and above-board. How was I to know who was breaking into the cabin in the middle of the night? I had every right to defend myself." He flashed a cool smile Samantha's way adding, "And do I look like a man that would, as she so crudely put it, cop a cheap feel?"

Kathy flipped her notepad closed. "I don't think there was any intentional crime committed here, just a case of mistaken identity." She slipped the notepad into her pocket and turned toward the door. "I expect you two to settle matters like civilized adults. However, I warn you both, if there is any more trouble, I'll haul the two of you in and let a judge decide."

"But..." Samantha sputtered when the door closed behind Kathy. So much for an old friend's protection, she slanted a wary glance Ramsey's way, noting his victorious expression, and fumed. She'd had just about enough macho preening for one evening. She got up and headed toward the door.

"I don't believe it."

Samantha jerked open the front door, aggravated by his amazed tone. "Don't believe what?"

"That you're actually going to be mature and reasonable about this."

She grabbed her suitcase off the porch. "Mature and reasonable, my ass. I'm staying." She kicked the door shut behind her. "We'll just have to coexist for two weeks." Ignoring his raised eyebrow, she headed toward the ladder to the loft, but her footsteps faltered as she gazed up the slightly dizzying height. She shook off the remnant of fear. It was only a short ladder for Pete's sake, and she'd scaled it plenty of times as a kid. Besides, she had her phobia under control thanks to an excellent the rapist. It was probably the stress of dealing with Ramsey stirring her hidden emotions. A good night's sleep would set things right.

Ramsey stepped forward to block her path. "Uh-uh, Sunshine. You ain't sleeping in my bed."

She stood toe-to-toe with him, openly defying him. There was something new in the way he looked at her now, she realized. Something more watchful, more judgmental. The feeling of being found lacking really grated on her already abraded nerves. Suddenly, she was more frightened of him than the ladder, but she was determined not to show it. "The loft has the only bed in the cabin. I figured even a goon like you would be gentleman enough to give it up for a lady."

His speculative gaze focused on her face. "You figured wrong, Sunshine. If you choose to stay, you take the couch."

She cast a sleepy glance at the lumpy sofa, exhaustion rapidly sapping her will to fight. It was most likely a delayed reaction to the series of traumas she'd experienced tonight. "Fine." She blinked back tears that suddenly misted her eyes and turned away from Ramsey, knowing his probing gaze wouldn't miss them.

She could feel him still standing behind her, probably trying to figure out what had brought her here, and she tried to brace herself for more questions. If he knew what was good for him, he'd walk away, unless he wanted a sobbing woman on his hands. After a tense moment she heard his light footsteps climb the ladder to the loft. She let out a shaky breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

If it meant she would have some breathing space, she could tough out a few nights on a lumpy couch. The knowledge that she was going to disappoint her dad once again hurt, but not as much as Grayson's betrayal. After a seven-year absence, she'd come home, gotten engaged to a man her father approved of, and it had all blown up in her face.

At least Ramsey didn't have a clue as to her real reason for being here. It would be too humiliating to acknowledge the truth. She never did find out if Grayson St. James was any good in the sack. But if what she saw was anything to go by, he was rather dangerous. The picture of him engaging in some hardcore S & M with another woman would stay with her long after her anger from his betrayal faded.

The fact that he'd never tried to do more than kiss her during their whirlwind courtship didn't fit. It made the whole scene quite unreal. In an instant, she'd learned the truth. He was only marrying her for her money.

The fact that he didn't find her sexually attractive stung, but it shouldn't have been that much of a surprise. She'd been too busy building her business to have much of a social life, let alone a lover. So now here she was, a twenty-seven year old semi-virgin with a cheating ex-fiancé and a growing need for more romance. There had to be a man for her somewhere. She ducked into the bathroom and changed into her pajamas. Then she rummaged around her bag for her Ginkgo Biloba-just the thing for the stress she was feeling. Finding the bottle, she quickly downed a pill. If she ever needed calming it was now.

An hour later, Jake stood next to the sofa watching Samantha sleep. He tried to tell himself he only felt compelled to check on her because she was his employer's daughter, but he knew it wasn't true.

He'd had a soft spot for his little Sunshine since he came to work for her father when she was twelve. She was a lively, precocious child who had turned into a rebellious teen. Through the years he'd pulled her out of more scrapes than he could count, until their final confrontation that night on the beach seven years ago.

He'd pulled her out of a wild party with a bunch of her high school friends after graduation. She'd been furious. Instead of arguing with him, she pulled him down for a scorching, angry, melt-his-socks-off kiss that made him hard as a stone. He set her back on her heels with a shove. He gave her the lecture of her life, telling her what a spoiled little rich girl she was.

She left home the next day and he felt the guilt of having chased her away. But instead of going down in flames, she built a successful catering business. The expansion of that business brought her back home six months ago. It hadn't taken long for Grayson St. James, one of Logan Industries up-and-coming young executives, to sweep her off her feet.

Seeing her again at her engagement party a month ago had knocked him for a loop. Her cascade of long, dark brown hair with copper highlights was the same. The intelligent flash of her turquoise blue eyes was all he had remembered. She'd come back a full grown, desirable woman and that soft spot had developed into a raging attraction. It was the main reason he'd taken on this surveillance rather than delegate it to a member of his staff.

He'd always known she would marry someone from her level of society. Not some hard guy like him. He came from a poor family. The eldest son of an alcoholic father who'd died in a drunken driving accident when he was twelve; he knew what it was to grow up fast. All the same, he was happy to hear about her break up. He'd never liked Grayson St. James. Even though he was a protégé of Delbert Logan's, and Samuel Logan viewed him with a friendly eye, Jake was suspicious. Consequently, he'd exceeded his authority to conduct some especially deep background checks on the man, which thus far had turned up nothing.

Jake covered Samantha with the comforter he'd brought down from the loft and then turned away. He needed to keep his head on straight. This was his last mission for Logan Industries, and his most important.

He was here keeping an eye on the boathouse. Logan Industries had been plagued by a loss of technology to other firms. Someone was trying to bring down the firm, making it ripe pickings for a hostile takeover.

While Jake's staff cast a wide net outside the firm for the perpetrator, he narrowed his sights on the executive suite. Two weeks ago, he'd intercepted an e-mail message that there would be an exchange of information for money at the cabin's boathouse three nights from now. The message, written by Samantha's younger brother Tad, had quickly narrowed the list of perpetrators down to one.

Was Samantha mixed up with her brother in this dirty business? It didn't seem likely. But here she was, a runaway bride, and she wouldn't tell him the reason for her departure. It was too big a coincidence to ignore. After he'd gotten over his initial shock at finding her here, he realized that he needed to let her stay in order to keep an eye on her. He'd soon know if she was trustworthy. In the meantime, he'd ruthlessly clamp down on his attraction to her. After all, there could be no future between them.

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