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Elle Reagan’s heart pounded against her rib cage, pushing blood through her veins at record speeds. She opened Brandon Ethridge’s dresser drawer and surveyed its contents. Careful not to disturb anything, she performed a thorough search. Disappointed to find nothing more than underwear and a collection of silk scarves, she moved to the nightstand next to the bed.

A hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off the scream bubbling up in her throat. An arm slid around her waist and jerked her against a rock-hard chest. She kicked out with her feet and dug her nails into her attacker’s wrist.

“Damn it, Elle. Stop that!” The low, gravelly whisper sent her mind spinning. Questions ricocheted through her thoughts.

Logan Ford’s voice immobilized her. Elle’s fear segued into confusion, making it easy for him to back her across the room. He removed his hand from her mouth and then leaned over until his nose brushed her ear.

“Not a word.” His fingers brushed her cheek, sending flashes of heat across her skin.

He opened the French doors, and then stepped onto the balcony into the frigid air. Logan pulled her along and stopped when they reached the far corner. He turned her to face him. His expression was as cold as the falling snowflakes.

The sound of a man’s voice from inside the suite turned Elle’s knees to rubber. She looked up into Logan’s dark brown eyes. He’d saved her from being discovered. Questions, such as why he was in Colorado instead of Texas, would have to wait until they were safely off this balcony and out of the horrid weather.

Logan pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. His broad back helped shield her from the blizzard. Under different circumstances, she would’ve enjoyed being inside his strong arms with her head tucked under his chin. Hadn’t she daydreamed about him sweeping her off her feet since she’d turned thirteen? Standing outdoors in subzero weather, six floors above the snow-covered ground, made it impossible to enjoy the moment.

He hadn’t come for romance, he’d come to interfere.

Elle heard voices rise and fall as people moved through the suite.

“If you pull this deal off, we’ll make a fortune,” Ethridge’s daughter, Nicki, said. “I’m tired of this game.”

“A few more days and Liam and Alana will do whatever I recommend,” Ethridge said.

Logan’s grip tightened, helping Elle forget the weather but not her mission.

“Hurry up. Let’s go downstairs.” Nicki’s tone hinted at impatience. “I want to select the perfect spot for us to stand during the meet-and-greet cocktail party.”

Time crawled as Elle and Logan waited until it was safe to go inside. She shivered, regretting not wearing heavier clothes, but then, she hadn’t expected to be hiding on a balcony in the snow. She’d planned on finding the evidence she needed and leaving quickly.

Elle had to stop Ethridge. His swindle had to be uncovered and proof sent to the FBI. Maybe then they would act on her grandmother’s complaints.

A door slammed. Had someone else entered or had they left? The cold had seeped into her bones to the point of being painful. Logan’s head lowered, and his lips brushed her icy ear.

“Stay here until I’m sure it’s all clear.”

Elle managed a nod and reluctantly released her warm shelter. A minute later, he came back. He dusted snow off them, scooped her into his arms, and carried her inside. Curiosity got the best of her. “What are you doing here?”

“We’ll talk later. We have to move. Leaving a trail of wet footprints on the carpet wouldn’t be too smart.”

In a few long strides, they were out the door and in the hallway. If she hadn’t been so pleased to be in his arms, he wouldn’t have gotten away with his bossy tone of voice. Logan put her down, took her hand, and they hurried to the elevator. When they were safely inside, he pushed the button marked eight. More questions filled her mind. How did he know her floor number? When was he leaving?

She turned, ready to demand answers, but lost her voice. His hair was damp with melting snow, his shirt was wet and had molded to his chest. Looking down at her, the one man who’d made her speechless for years, smiled. His gaze then conducted a leisurely scan of her body, r

eminding her that she, too, wore wet clothing.

The elevator doors opened, and without conversation, they walked to her suite. By the time they had entered the common room of her suite, Elle was about to explode. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Have you lost your mind?” His tone sounded equally full of frustration, which pushed her last hot button.

“What business is it of yours, if I have? And don’t answer my question with a question.” Did she think he was going to say, I’m here because I’m crazy about you? Or that he’d seized this chance to be alone with her? No. She knew exactly who’d sent him. Damn it, Eric.

“We’re friends. That makes it my business.” He leaned against the fireplace mantel, looking right at home and way too sexy.

“Give me a break. We both know why you’re here. How is my dear brother?” Logan rushing to Colorado to protect her would’ve been a dream come true. However, she knew that wasn’t the case.

“He’s pissed.”

“I guess you think I should thank you for saving my butt.”

Logan’s mouth lifted into a half smile. “You mean for keeping you out of jail? You’re welcome.”

“You need to go home.” Elle stabbed her finger toward the door.

“So do you.” He pushed off the mantel. In a couple of long strides, he stood in front of her. “What’s with the hair?”

She pulled off the wig and tossed it onto a chair. “Nicki Ethridge is a blonde.”

“Jesus.” His eyebrows drew together. “I’ll go home if you come with me.”

“I won this vacation, and I intend to stay right here.”

“Bullshit,” he said with a shake of his head. “You entered the contest under false pretenses.”

“Now you’re an expert on what I do and why?” God, he looked good standing there all pissed off.

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