He waited two minutes before he crawled out of the closet. When it only took him another five to find what he was looking for, he swore softly beneath his breath. If he'd climbed out of that tree ten minutes earlier, he would have had the number of Sophie's cabin before that blond amazon had ever settled in for her nighttime rendezvous with the books, and wouldn't have wasted so much time.
Quickly he checked the number against the map on the wall and discovered that the cabin Sophie had been assigned to, number 58, was nearby. Perhaps his luck was about to change.
Once he let himself out of the building, he slid into the shadows offered by the trees and made his way to number 58. The kinks had just about worked themselves out of his legs when he reached it.
A light poured through one of the windows and pooled on the flower beds below.
Did anyone sleep normal hours around here?
Ducking low, Tracker moved quietly to the cabin. Then pressing his back against the logs, he rose slowly, inched his face closer to the window and risked a quick peek.
It was the bedroom window all right. A woman had propped herself up against a pillow to read. The good news was she hadn't seen him.
The bad news was that the woman wasn't Sophie.
Tracker ran through the evidence in his mind as he moved quietly to the front door of the cabin. It always paid to be thorough. The porch light confirmed that this was indeed Sophie's cabin. So he hadn't made a mistake. And the blond wig he'd spotted sitting on the dresser had been styled to resemble Sophie's hairdo.
There were times he hated it when his instincts were right. He let himself quietly into the cabin. The time for careful subterfuge was over. He intended to get some answers.
*
When she drifted up through the layers of sleep in the early hours of the morning, Mac discovered she and Lucas were nestled in bed together like spoons. She felt his breath warm on her ear, his body even warmer along her backside. One of her feet was trapped between his legs, and he had one arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand planted firmly on her thigh. Just as if he wasn't planning on letting her go.
She didn't want to go anywhere.
She opened her eyes only a crack, only long enough to see that thin gray light was creeping into the room.
Closing them tightly again, she tried to recapture the dream she'd had – of Lucas slipping in beside her during the night and pulling her to him. He'd touched her so gently, loved her so softly, she'd known she was dreaming. His lovemaking had been nothing like the other times. There had been none of the desperation, none of the demand. She had never felt so cared for, so cherished. Each time she'd drifted close to the surface, he'd whispered to her to go back to sleep, to dream, to just feel how much he wanted her.
In the dream, Lucas had wanted her, not just the fantasies she'd conjured up for him. He'd wanted Mac. When he'd whispered that in her ear, the pleasure had streamed through her so sweetly, so deeply, that she'd shattered into a million pieces.
It had been the most wonderful dream she'd ever had. And as impossible as it was, she wanted it to go on and on. She wanted it to be true.
In the half light of dawn, still wrapped in his arms, she could admit that she'd fallen in love with Lucas Wainright. She'd known it with the same certainty she felt at times in the lab, just when an experiment was about to go right. If she wanted to be Dr. Lloyd and analyze it, all she had to do was remember her research. When admiration was mixed with physical attraction, the chances for combustion were greatly enhanced. Mix in liking and trust, and you might have the perfect formula for love.
Mac didn't need the analysis. She just knew it was true. She never could have attempted what she had in that pool-room if she hadn't been doing it to Lucas.
She loved him.
Keeping her eyes tightly closed, she hugged the dream and the knowledge closer. As long as she did, she wouldn't have to allow the part of her that was Dr. Lloyd to spoil this moment by coming up with a tidy list of reasons why a future with Lucas Wainright was impossible. That would come soon enough. For now she'd let the Mac she was discovering inside of herself rule. Because Mac knew how to dream.
The first ring of the cell phone had her frowning and opening one eye. Sophie surely couldn't be calling her at this hour, not if she was bound and determined to avoid speaking to Lucas. In fact, Sophie didn't even get out of bed at this hour.
The second insistent ring had Lucas stirring behind her and another thought springing into her mind. What if Sophie was in trouble?
Mac struggled to free herself, but Lucas only tightened his grip.
"The phone," she said. "I have to answer it."
"Why?"
His voice was sleepy, but his body wasn't.
"It could be So— I mean, there could be a problem … at the lab." There. If it was Sophie, she could still pretend it was someone else.
The second Lucas relaxed his arms, she slid from the bed and raced to the dresser for her purse. Dumping the contents, she grabbed the cell phone.
"Just how often do you have trouble at your lab?" he asked, sounding more awake.
"There was only that once." She flipped open her phone. "Last weekend someone broke in. Hello."
The third ring sounded.
"It's mine," Lucas said.
It wasn't until she turned back to him that she realized she wasn't wearing any clothes. They were lying neatly folded next to the pants Lucas was lifting off a nearby chair. Mac couldn't remember taking hers off. In fact, the last thing she recalled was falling asleep in the taxi on their way back to the hotel.
She never slept in the nude. But she'd definitely been nude when she'd dreamed that Lucas had made love to her. Or had it been a dream?
"Yeah?" Lucas rubbed a hand over his face as he spoke into the phone. "No … okay." Dropping the phone to his side, he turned to her. "My security man has a rather lengthy report to make. I thought I saw the makings for coffee out at the bar. Do you think you could…?"
"Sure." She moved quickly to the chair, but before she could pick up her clothes, he handed her his shirt.
"I want to have coffee with Mac, not Dr. Lloyd."
He wanted to have coffee with Mac. Forgetting to slip into the shirt, she hugged the thought to her all the way to the door.
*
A smile curved his mouth as Lucas watched her walk out of the bedroom. He had to clamp down on the urge to follow her. Making love to her during the night had only whetted his appetite. He wanted more, and this time he wanted her wide awake and alert to every sensation when he was inside her. He wanted her to know exactly who it was who was touching her, tasting her, making her come.
He started toward the door. Hell, the coffee could wait. And so could Tracker's report. Lifting the phone to his ear, he said, "I'm going to have to get back to you."
"Sophie's not at the Serenity Spa."
Lucas stopped dead in his tracks. "You're sure."
"I've spent the past two hours confirming it. Once I found an impostor in her cabin, I decided the time for disguise was over. I even persuaded the amazon in charge of this place to let me check every single client at their morning yoga exercises."
As Tracker filled him in, Lucas paced the length of the bedroom and back. Fear flooded through him along with questions. He clamped down on both of them, concentrating on the facts that Tracker was feeding him.
"They switched at the airport in Charlotte?"
"According to the actress Sophie hired to impersonate her, they both went into stalls in the ladies' room where they donned wigs and changed clothes. Then they exited at different times."
"And it was shortly after that Sophie called me to let me know where she was, and I told you Mac was with me."
"Right. The actress in Sophie's cabin swears she knows nothing about where Sophie was going. I believe her mostly because I don't think Sophie would have told her. She planned this thing out pretty carefully. She wouldn't want us to be able to trace her easily. I've got men checking the flight manifests out of Charlotte right now. So far, they haven't come up with anything."
"Falcone's got her."
"We don't know that."
"I know it. That's what the phone call was about. He told me he had something that would make me reconsider. He was talking about Sophie."
There was a pause before Tracker replied, "He won't hurt her. He wouldn't dare."
The fact that Tracker wasn't arguing with him sharpened the fear in his stomach. He had to believe Falcone wouldn't hurt Sophie. Turning, Lucas paced the length of the room again. He had to keep telling himself that. More than that, he had to think, to plan.
As he strode by the dresser, his gaze fell on the stuff Mac had dumped out of her purse. In addition to the cell phone, which matched the same pearl color of his sister's, a wallet, a small plastic makeup case and loose change littered the top of the dresser.
"My office is checking the flight manifests out of Charlotte. So far they haven't found any record of a Sophie Wainright flying out."
"Maybe she used another name," Lucas said.
"Easier said than done. With the new security, she'd need a pretty accurate picture ID. And I already checked. She flew into Charlotte on a round-trip ticket under her own name."
"Maybe the actress used that ticket." Turning suddenly, Lucas walked back to the dresser and stared down at the cell phone. The evidence was right there.
Dr. Lloyd wouldn't have loose change lying in the bottom of her purse. Nor could he imagine her having a pearl-colored phone. Hers would be black, practical. He pictured Mac as she'd stepped of the plane. She'd taken off the blond wig, but if she'd been wearing it, she would have looked a lot like Sophie.