Ben Braden smiled. "So you said. We have a lot time to discuss it. After all, our train doesn't get to California for a day or more. Since your stepbrother has such an aversion to the FBI, it's a good thing I probably won't meet him."

"He trusts Nathan and Nick, but that's it. Yeah, you'd better stay out of Kerry's way."

"I'll make a point of it." He followed her into the train station.

Grace was three steps in front of him before she realized he wasn't there. "Haven't you seen a train station before?" she asked, seeing him staring at the football-field-sized room full of benches, people, noise, and bustle.

"Not like this. It's...ornate." He followed her to the sign marked Left Luggage.

"Art Nouveau, actually." Grace glanced at a statue of a naked god, lounging near a doorway. "I think it's neat."

"Neat?" He smiled, those deep creases appearing again around his eyes.

"Yes. Neat."

"I haven't heard that one in a long time."

"I'm old-fashioned." She walked to the doorway with the metal grate inset and handed her ticket to the young man there.

"Is this where they keep the baggage?" Braden peered over her shoulder into the cavernous room.

"It's secure storage for carry-on during layovers. The checked baggage is on the baggage car." She nodded toward the high archway on the opposite side of the room with To Trains above it in elaborate script. She smiled her thanks to the attendant and handed him a dollar. He just stared at her, his eyes wide, until she pressed the bill into his hand.

"You take the train often?" Braden paused and looked at a restaurant nearby.

Grace brushed by him, narrowly missing rolling over his feet with her small red bag. She headed for the pizza counter at the food court. "I hate to fly."

"Lucky for me."

Grace stopped and stared at him. "What?"

Braden smiled, stepping close to her. "It means I've got more time to spend with you."

Grace gaped at him. There was an unmistakable glint in his pale eyes, a look of anticipation. Her throat went dry and hundreds of romance novel plots tumbled through her brain. Sexy cop and woman on the run. Strangers on a train.


Good Lord, her heartbeat was so accelerated her body vibrated. Woman in danger, hero saves her, they live happily ever after.


Grace tore her eyes from Ben Braden's and dropped down to earth with a thud. Her phone vibrated in her pants pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Unlisted number. She put the phone to her ear. "This is Grace."

"Miss Jamison, I'm an acquaintance of Mr. Braden." The voice was low, deep, and British. Grace automatically stared at Braden, who looked over her shoulder at something. "He and I were in the midst of conducting some business when he was diverted by you."

"I'm sorry--did you want to talk to Mr. Braden?"

Ben touched his chest. "Me?"

"That's not necessary. You can just relay a message for me."

"Sure." Grace looked at the pizza choices over the heads of people in front of her in line.

"Tell Mr. Braden that we're aware of his location and yours. We'll contact him shortly with new drop-off information. He killed our courier before he could hand off the data."

"What?" Grace took a step back, bumping into Ben.

He leaned over. "Who is that?"

"I hope he doesn't use you the way he used our agent. Be careful, Miss Jamison. He's a very dangerous man." The line went dead.

Grace whirled but Ben was right behind her. She looked up at him. "Did you kill that woman?"

He glared at her, his eyes hard and cold.