He didn't look wired. His big body was sprawled catlike on the ground, his head resting on his hand, his gaze fixed intently on her face.

The silence grew and her tension with it. "I've never been to Hoover Dam. It's in Arizona, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"I try to see at least one national treasure whenever I'm in the States. I went to Yosemite last time and a year ago I did Washington, D.C. Have you ever gone to see the Declaration of Independence?"

"Of course."

"There's no 'of course' about it. The guide told me that it wasn't one of the most popular things to see anymore." She shook her head. "I don't understand it. You'd think they'd all want to see it."

'They?'

"Citizens," she said with impatience. "You know, 'we the people.'"

He smiled faintly. "Oh, that 'they.'"

"They don't know what they've got."

"But you know?"

"You bet I do," she said. "I learned it in a dozen countries that never saw a constitution or a bill of rights. Lord, they're lucky."

"Aren't you using the wrong pronoun?"

She had made a mistake and rushed to cover it. "We're lucky," she corrected. "I guess I spend so much time out of the country, my viewpoint is a little remote."

"You didn't sound remote. You sounded passionate as hell."

She considered it better not to answer. Silence again fell between them.

"I wish you wouldn't stare at me," she finally burst out. "I feel like a bug under a microscope."

"You're certainly a very rare species," he said. "And I have to admit I find you a fascinating study."

"I don't know why. I'm pretty ordinary." She amended quickly, "Except for my work; that's exceptional." She reached into the leather bag on the ground next to her, turned on the camcorder, and focused on him.

"The freed captive at ease," she murmured.

"Shut that damn thing off."

"Oh, all right." She turned off the camcorder and set it down. "I'll wait until the helicopter comes and get a shot of you flying off into the sunset."

"Moonlight." Then the full impact of her words hit home and he slowly sat up. "What the hell do you mean? How can you take a shot of me flying off if you're in the helicopter?"

"But I won't be in it," she said. "We part company here. I'm driving the Jeep to Sedikhan."

"The devil you are. That helicopter will be at Marasef airport within thirty minutes of takeoff. You said yourself it wasn't safe to take the road to the border."

"That was only because you were along."

"You're a journalist too. What do you think will happen if you get stopped at the border?"

"I'll try to slide over without them seeing me, but even if they find out who I am…" She shrugged. "I'm small potatoes and they're looking for a big fish."

"Sounds like a smorgasbord," he said caustically. "But I have a hunch you'd be the maincourse. Now, tell me what reason you could possibly have for going by road."

She looked into the fire. "Why should I leave a perfectly good Jeep here to rot?"

"I'll pay for the damn Jeep."

"Why should you? I can just as well drive it across-"

"You go one step near that Jeep and I'll tear out the motor and scatter the parts from here to the Mediterranean."

She set her jaw. "Then I'll walk across the border."

He stared at her. "Lord, and you'd be stubborn enough to do it." He struggled with his temper for a moment and then said quietly, "You may be stubborn, but you're not stupid. What's the real reason you don't want to go with me in that helicopter?"

She didn't answer him.

"If you don't tell me, I'm going to send the helicopter back to Marasef and we'll both drive to the border."

"You can't do that," she said.

"Try me."

Her hands clenched into fists. "You're going to spoil everything. Do you want to end up a prisoner again?"

"No, and I don't want you to, either."

She wasn't going to be able to sway him so she gave in. "There will be too much coverage."

His eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your helicopter will probably be met in Marasef by half the reporters in the Middle East and the CIA and-"

"What difference does that make? You're a reporter yourself."

"It's very different," she said fiercely. "No one pays any attention to just one reporter on a news crew, but you'd be in the spotlight and some of it would be bound to spill over onto me. I can't have that."

"Why the hell not?"

"I have my reasons."

"None that are worth your life."

"That's my decision to make," she said. "And if you really think you owe me something, you can pay me back by getting on that helicopter tonight and stop trying to mess up my life."

"How the devil would I be-" He broke off as he met her blazing eyes. His lips tightened. "Okay, I'll take the helicopter."

"And you won't nag me to go along?" she persisted.

"Why should I waste my time?" He got up and turned away. "I give you my solemn promise I'll not make the slightest damn attempt to nag you to save your own neck."

FOUR

The helicopter hovered and then landed with a soft thud on the grassy plateau.

"Come on." Ronnie grabbed Gabe's arm and started running toward the aircraft. "We have to get you out of here. Those lights can be seen for miles."

Gabe's long legs were easily outdistancing hers. "Leaving you right on ground zero," he muttered savagely.

"The sooner you take off, the sooner I'll be on my way too."

The door of the helicopter was opening and a slim, wiry man wearing a leather flight jacket jumped down.

"Bredlowe?" she asked as she came within calling distance.

"Right."

She reached into her bag, drew out her camcorder, and told Gabe, "You go ahead. I want to catch a shot of you two together."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Nevertheless he sprinted forward and grasped the man's hand.

Bredlowe's eyes were glistening in the lights of the helicopter as he said something to Gabe. She couldn't hear over the roar of the rotors, but there was no mistaking either the emotion or the drama of the greeting between the two men.

Gabe turned to her. "Put the camera down and come meet my friends." His voice was gruff and his eyes as moist as Bredlowe's. She reluctantly switched off the camera and hurried forward. It was great stuff, but she had enough footage and Gabe needed to get under way.

"Dan Bredlowe, Ronnie Dalton," Gabe said. "Ronnie tells me you've already met by phone."

Bredlowe's hand enveloped Ronnie's. "Lord, I didn't think you could pull it off. You're a bloody miracle."

At closer range he looked to be in his late twenties, with a shock of curly brown hair and hazel eyes that gazed at her as if she were Mother Teresa and Michelle Pfeiffer rolled into one. It made her uncomfortable. "Hi," she said awkwardly. "You'd better get him out of here." She turned to Gabe and thrust out her hand. "It's time for you to go. Good-bye."

He took her hand and warmth flowed through her as it had the first time he had touched her.

He was staring at her, his face impassive, but she could sense the storm of emotion in him. He didn't like this. Well, she didn't either, but she didn't have a choice.

"Oh, will you do me a favor?" She withdrew her hand, opened her camera, and took out the cassette. "Will you keep this for me? I'll send for it as soon as I'm safe."

"So you won't get caught with it?" he asked caustically.

"I won't get caught. It's just safe practice to guard the story. Will you?"

He took the cassette and jammed it into his jacket pocket. "Come with me."

She shook her head, a tremulous smile on her lips. "Not possible. And you promised not to nag me."

"I won't nag you." He gestured to the pilot in the plane. "This is David Carroll, my pilot."

She turned her head to see the brown-skinned pilot, his wide smile gleaming in the lighted dash of the cockpit as he leaned forward to offer his hand.

"A pleasure," he said softly. "Nice to meet-" Pain exploded in her jaw! Blackness followed.

Dan gasped. "Gabe, what the hell are you-"

"Grab that camera," Gabe rapped as he caught Ronnie's slumping body. "She'll castrate me if anything happens to it."

Dan grabbed the camera as it fell from Ronnie's lax fingers. "She might do it anyway. A right to the jaw isn't the way most people show gratitude for saving their lives."

"It was that or let her risk her neck again trying to reach the border." He carried Ronnie to the helicopter, settled her in one of the backseats, and fastened her seat belt. "No way was I going to let that happen. Let's get the hell out of here, Dave."

The pilot watched him climb into the seat beside Ronnie and fasten his seat belt. "Is she okay? She's out like a light."

"You hit her pretty hard," Dan accused.

"Shut up and get in the helicopter," Gabe said through his teeth. He was feeling enough guilt; he didn't need any more heaped on him.

Dan jumped into the helicopter, taking the other front seat, and slammed the door. "Take off, Dave." As the helicopter became airborne he turned back to look at Gabe. "I suppose you had a reason for this. Why didn't she want to come with us?"

"Something about not wanting to be in the limelight." He gendy tilted Ronnie's head so it lay more comfortably on the headrest. The bruise was already showing on that exquisite peaches-and-cream skin. He felt like one of those creeps who battered women. When she woke up he'd be lucky if she didn't use that.357 Magnum on him. Hell, maybe he'd let her. "How bad is the reception committee going to be at Marasef airport?"

"There will be our own reporters, of course." Dan made a face. "And we had no choice but to tell the CIA you'd been released so they could pull their men out of the danger zone. That means there will probably be leaks to other news services."