She dialed the number on the pager and stood rooted when she recognized Alda's cool calm voice giving a greeting.

"Alda?"

"Haley! My God. Where are you?"

Suspicion gripped Haley, though she couldn't explain it. How long did it take for a trace to take hold and locate her? Was Alda capable of such a thing? She had no idea, and was taking no chances. "Alda, what is happening?" she asked quickly, watching the clock on the desk. She'd stay on for a maximum of sixty seconds.

"Exactly what it looks like!" Alda drew in a sharp breath. "We need help, Haley. Who have you told about the system?"

"Wait." She tried to think. Why would Alda care? "Are the authorities looking for me?"

"Yes. Where-"

"Am I the only suspect? Are they questioning you?"

Alda hesitated. "What are you saying?" Her voice had chilled.

"Where's Bob?" Haley asked, ignoring Alda's question and giving in to a terrible foreboding. "Alda, where's Bob?"

When Alda hesitated again, Haley lowered the phone and gently disconnected. Her head was spinning, her heart heavy with grief, betrayal. Fear.

She had to risk another call on the cell phone, to the USGS. She set her purse on the desk and called Information.

Then, with shaky fingers, she dialed. But she'd no sooner heard the greeting on the line, when Cam strode into the room.

He smiled at her and she felt herself freeze, phone in hand. She knew enough about him to know he'd never sit idly back and let her deal with this alone. Nope, dammit. The cowboy would get himself killed.

"Hello," he said easily, just as the USGS receptionist repeated her greeting a little impatiently. Cam walked over to the desk, moving papers around, obviously looking for something. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave, or to notice that Haley desperately wanted him to.

Damn it.

Carefully, she lowered the phone from her ear and flipped it off, disconnecting the now annoyed receptionist. "I'm sorry, I know I should have asked to use this phone first-"

"Don't be silly, Nellie won't mind. And don't hang up on my account," he said, glancing at her with a soft smile. "I'll be out in a sec."

Did his smile have to be so devastating? "No matter," she said lamely. "It's… not important."

He dropped his papers to the desk. His eyes never left hers as he came around to stand before her, but they went cold. "Not important? Then why are you chewing your nails?"

She dropped her hand from her mouth with a small oath and turned from him. Why did he have to probe so deeply? Why did he have to look at her like it mattered?

She glanced down at the phone, desperate to make the call. To get this nightmare over with so she could go on with her life.

She felt Cam's hands on her hips, gently turning her to face him. In his usual unhurried and graceful manner, he slid those hands around her waist, slowly drawing her close. She had a terrific urge to plunge her hands into his hair, and surprised herself when she gave in to it. She knew she shouldn't have, but it felt so good to be held, wanted. To be alive.

"You've avoided me," he said in a deep, husky voice, leaning forward to bring his lips to her hair.

How could she explain? "I've been busy." Against her better judgment, she tipped her head back, allowing him access to her neck, then nearly moaned as his mouth moved over her skin. "Very busy," she repeated weakly.

"Mmm, I've noticed. The house looks great." He teased her ear with flirty little passes of his tongue, and her knees went weak. "Make your call, Haley. I'll wait."

Her eyes fluttered closed. "I don't have to make a call."

Feeling him stiffen, she pulled back and opened her eyes. He dropped his arms and his pleasant smile, and stared at something on his desk. With his jaw tight, he picked up the little piece of paper she'd scribbled USGS's phone number on. "This is the number you were calling?"

"Yes," she said, misunderstanding his cause for concern. "I know, it's long-distance. I'll pay-"

"If you're going to offer to reimburse me, you'd better stop right there, or you'll really make me mad." He turned on her, his brows knitted tightly together. "USGS?"

"United States Geological Survey. I… have connections there."

"Connections?"

"I'm sort of…" Damn. "I'm a geologist."

"I'm paying a geologist to keep my house?" He perched a hip on the desk, crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her. "Why don't you tell me the rest, Haley?"

She had to tread carefully, she reminded herself as her temper flared. Very carefully. This man might move slowly and not have much drive when it came to worldly ambition, but he had a mind as sharp as a tack, and right now it was aimed directly at her.

If she was in danger, though, so was he. For his own protection, she had to make it good. Very good. "I was just calling to check on a friend."

"Actually, I'm still stuck on the fact you're a geologist."

"It's no big deal."

Turning her head away so he couldn't read the self-disgust in her face, she moved toward the door. She had to be alone. God, she'd lied with an ease that made her sick. Since when had she gotten so good at that?

Since her life, and that of everyone she cared about, was on the line.

"Haley, wait." He cursed when she didn't. "Just-" He swore again, and at the sound of a thump, Haley turned. She'd forgotten her purse, and Cam had just inadvertently dumped it to the floor, scattering its contents.

"I'm sorry," he said, lithely dropping down to pick up the loose items.

From the door, she could see what would happen, and was powerless to stop it. Her heart slammed against her ribs as Cam's hand stilled in midair.

On the floor lay her two bottles of pills. Eyes narrowed, he lifted them and scanned the labels.

Haley stood there, feeling stripped bare as he touched everything personal she owned. Finding her feet, and her voice, she squatted beside him and yanked up the purse. She extended her hand for the bottles, but he held them out of reach and looked at her.

"What are these?"

She almost didn't recognize his voice, it sounded so low and gravelly… and urgent. "They're mine," she said.

"This one is for ulcers," he said, sounding horrified. "And this other… sleeping pills? My God, Haley."

Her throat burned, her face flamed with humiliation. She knew what her failings were, but to have him know, too, was worse than she could have imagined. Snatching the bottles from his hand, she put them in her purse, keeping her head averted. "Get away from me."

Still kneeling next to her on the floor, she heard him make a wordless sound of regret and concern. With a gentleness she couldn't face, he took her shoulders in his hands, turning her toward him. "You're sick."

"No." She dropped her gaze and noticed the T-shirt he wore had slightly frayed sleeves where they stretched over his biceps. His chest seemed impossibly wide. It should he illegal, she thought a little wildly, for a man to look so good in an old shirt.

"You said you wouldn't lie," he accused, almost roughly, his fingers digging in to her. "But you keep on doing it, dammit."

"I'm not sick now," she said carefully. She sat back on her heels. "I haven't taken any of those pills since I got here."

"But your stomach has hurt." He waited a beat. "That's what the problem is, isn't it? You have an ulcer."

Ulcers, she almost corrected.

"And you can't sleep. What's the insomnia from, Haley? South America?" He leaned close to see her face. "You won't tell me," he said softly, his eyes hard and glittering. "Or you'll make up more lies. Won't you, Haley?"

"I don't know," she answered as honestly as she could, with one hundred and eighty pounds of male frustration staring at her. "It's complicated."

His mouth tightened at that. "Your passport is there." He nodded toward the things she'd shifted back to her purse. "Do I have to steal it so you won't run?"

"You promised me that first night, remember, Cam?" There was no controlling the catch in her voice. "No questions."

His fingers tightened on her. "That was before I realized you were going to turn out to be a liar."

"I can't tell you more!" she cried, wishing she could explain.

"You mean you won't."

"It's-"

"Complicated?" he offered with mock patience.

"Yes! Damn it, yes. It's complicated. It's-" She choked it off before she added and dangerous. Deadly. Fear for him and the others made her speak harshly. "Stay out of it, Cameron. You've got to stay out of it."

"What if I won't?"

"I'll leave." The thought was enough to make her heart drop slowly to the floor, but she knew she would. She'd have to.

A veil came down over his eyes. "You know, I just realized something." He stood. "I'm nagging at you." He stretched his shoulders as if his neck ached, and even Haley, who was completely inexperienced in such things, could read the hurt he barely managed to mask.

He moved toward the door. "Use the phone, Haley. I won't bother you again."

"You're not bothering me."

He stopped with one hand on the door. The look he gave her didn't bear close analysis. "You want to be real sure about that, Haley."

"Of course I am." Couldn't he see how difficult this was? She didn't want to keep secrets, she had to. "I-I like being with yon, Cam."

"How do I know I can believe that?"

"It's the truth."

"Is it? Then promise me one thing. Don't lie to me anymore. It turns me into someone I don't like very much." He shut the door quietly behind him before she could soothe his feelings, or even make that promise.

Which was just as well. She'd be lying again.