Considering what a control freak you are, I wasn't exactly bowled over when Glynnis didn't tell you her plans, whispered Lily's voice in his brain, stilling Zach's fingers on the rooftop. Then, slapping both hands against the hot metal, he pushed away and began to pace.

Bullshit. It had nothing to do with control; he just wanted to protect his little sister. Someone had to prevent her from making the biggest mistake of her life.

Experience was on his side, and this time the situation was even worse than usual. Glynnis was too big-hearted for her own good, but no one had ever brought her to the point where marriage sounded like a good idea. Zach thrust his hands through his hair as he paced. Somehow thisBeaumontguy had gotten her to that stage, though. Somehow he'd convinced her he was the man for her, the one she could trust to supply her with the happily-ever-after she'd always wanted. Zach had to save her from getting her soft, generous heart stomped into paste. For if she'd been crushed in the past when she'd discovered she'd been used by the people she'd trusted, what would it do to her to learn her true love was playing her for a fool?

Love. Zach made a rude noise. As if that was an emotion anyone could trust.

Turning to pace in the other direction, he saw Lily headed his way. "It's about damn time," he snarled, so busy trying not to notice the ultra-girly hip-swinging, breast-bouncing walk of hers that it took him a moment to register she was burdened with a purse and train case and was pulling a suitcase in her wake. "What the—"

She sashayed right up to the passenger side of his Jeep, opened the door, and tossed her stuff in the backseat while he stood there with his mouth open. Looking at him across the top of the SUV, she gave the vehicle a slap. "What are you waiting for? Let's go." And she climbed into the car.

He ripped open his own door and leaned in to glare at her across the seats. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I would think that would be obvious even to you." She gave him a cool look out of those clear blue eyes. "I've decided to go with you."

"Over my cold and rotting corpse, lady."

"Works for me—that'd save me a trip. But failing that, your sister has a real shot at happiness with David, and I've resolved not to let you wreck it for her."

"You've resolved ? he said scornfully. "What, you afraid you'll lose your meal ticket if I talk some sense into her?" His brain tried to tell him there was a flaw in that logic, but he couldn't puzzle it out over the roar of his anger. And that made him even more livid, the knowledge that she could make him lose his temper without any effort at all. No one else had ever been able to do that. "Haul your little butt out of my car."

"No."

"Then I'll haul it for you." He straightened, fully prepared to follow through on his threat.

"Not if you want David's address."

Zach had to remind himself he was disciplined, that a soldier did not react without thinking. He'd already tried calling Rocket, but his friend must be serious about this being a vacation and had turned off his cell phone for the trip up to Coop's. Zach bent back down and looked at Lily. "I'll have that address if I have to tear your purse and bags apart to find it," he said flatly. He gave her a slow up-and-down appraisal. "If I have to strip you naked."

She didn't even blink. "Could be fun, I suppose—but it still won't get you the address." She tapped her termple. "It's in here, bud. So unless you're a mind reader…"

Swearing in defeat, he climbed into the Jeep and slammed the door.

Miguel Escavez raced back to the car he'd won off a soldier yesterday and started the engine. When Master Sergeant Taylor drove away from the opulent ocean-front property a moment later, Miguel patiently waited until the other man reached the bend in the road before pulling away from the shoulder to trail in the black SUV's wake. His impulse to follow the commander fromCampPendletonthis morning had paid off with even faster results than he'd expected—a sure sign his mission was just.

But then, he'd never doubted that for a moment. He was, after all, Miguel Hector Javier Escavez, only son of the mayor of Bisinlejo. And this was just one more in a series of signs he'd received already. Why, just last night he'd won a fortune from several of the gringo soldiers.

That filled him with satisfaction—and for more reasons than simply the money that enabled him to finance his plans. They thought because he came from a small Colombian village he was dumb, that he was a—how did one of them put it?—a spic. Miguel spit out the car window. Arrogant fools. How many of them spoke two languages? He had learned English from Father Roberto, the mission priest who had also taught him the finer points of five-card stud. If the Norte Americanos were so damn smart, how was it that most of their recently cashed paychecks had ended up in his pocket?

They knew nothing. He was an important man; his life was charmed.

At least it had been until the American soldiers had sent everything spinning out of control. He had admired Taylorwhen the marine had first come to Bisinlejo, but now the master sergeant was his enemy. Pedersen, underTaylor's command, had sullied Emilita, but it was the master sergeant who had compounded the insult by demeaning him —Miguel Escavez—in front of the entire village. And of the two transgressions, that was the one he couldn't forgive.

Taylormust pay.

Miguel smiled to himself, for having seen the marine's eyes go hot when the blond woman had jiggled her breasts and swung her hips crossing the courtyard, he knew what to do. He hadn't been close enough to hear the conversation inside the car, but clearly the puta was the commander's woman.

The church preached an eye for an eye, so retribution seemed simple enough to Miguel. He had lost his woman. Emilita may as well be dead for the dishonor she'd shown him, and he held Master Sergeant Taylor directly responsible. He would therefore see to it that the marine lost his woman in exchange.

It was only just.

Lily eyed Zach's grim profile. They'd been traveling for over two hours, and he hadn't said a word to her. Not one. Not wanting to be the first to cave, she turned to stare out at the almond groves whizzing past the window. But a few minutes later she found herself turning back to him again. "Are you going to sulk all the way toWashington?"

The glance he spared her before returning his attention to the long, straight stretch of freeway should have singed the eyebrows right off her face. "You blackmailed me into letting you come along. I don't feel a burning need to entertain you as well."

"Oh, yeah," she scoffed. "You being such an entertaining guy and all." If personalities equaled looks, Zach Taylor would be a dung beetle. It seemed the height of unfairness that instead he could probably get work as an underwear model, darn him.

Being a sociable woman, though, she didn't think she could bear thirteen hundred miles of the silent treatment. So she wracked her brain for a subject he might respond to. Beauty makeovers were probably out. Politics and religion were risky at the best of times, and the weather had been consistently fair for the past several days—not a lot to discuss there. Food was always a good topic, of course, but Zach struck her as more the let's-eat type than the you-have-got-to-tell-me-how-you-prepared-this kind of guy. That left just one subject—the relationship between Glynnis and David. And the only thing discussing that was likely to get her was a huge headache.

Heck, silence wasn't so bad.

Another thirty miles farther on, though, she couldn't stand it any longer. As they blew past a long row of evenly spaced eucalyptus trees, she shifted in her seat to face him once again. "David Beaumont isn't the cad you're making him out to be, you know."

Zach grunted.

Lily had never realized such a brief sound could convey so much skepticism. 'He's not," she insisted. "Not unless he's the best darn actor in the world—and, frankly, I don't think anyone could sustain an act that good twenty-four hours a day for several days running. Which is what he'd have to do since he and Glynnis planned to take their time and see some of the sights along the way. Don'tcha think in that case Glynnis would figure out for herself he's not the man for her?" This time she didn't even get a grunt in response, and she swallowed her sigh. "I doubt it will come to that, though. I know it was a pretty fast decision since they've only been dating for a couple of months, but David struck me as simply a decent guy who fell head over heels in love with your sister and thought he was the luckiest man on earth when she returned his feelings."

"I guess I can just turn right around and go home, then."

His tone, of course, suggested otherwise, and blowing out a disgusted bream, she gave up. In the silence that followed, she shifted in her seat, trying to restore circulation to her travel-deadened bottom and legs. Gradually she became aware of another discomfort. She looked over at him. "I need to use a restroom."

He emitted another of those charming sounds and she turned her attention back to the scenery outside the window, determined to hold her tongue for real this time. She would patiently await the next service station if it killed her. She was nevertheless relieved a short while later to see a sign announcing a rest stop at the next exit, for she was beginning to grow uncomfortable.

Zach whizzed right past it.

Lily's temper climbed into the red zone, and she had to clench her teeth against ranting and railing and telling him exactly what she thought of his crummy tactics. For that's what this was—a way of letting her know he hadn't wanted her along in the first place and he wasn't about to allow her so-called "blackmail" to dictate the terms of the drive. She forced herself to breathe deeply until she found a measure of control. Then she stroked her hand admiringly over the fine leather of her bucket seat. "Nice upholstery," she murmured. "What a shame my bladder's about five minutes away from destroying it."