Free title by Desiree Holt

light off and they stood against the wall to wait.
    “Company coming,” someone whispered in Gabe’s ear and he heard Randy click acknowledgement of the message.
    They heard the front door open and footsteps heading down the hallway.
    “What the hell’s going on?” a man’s voice asked. It was edged with irritation and impatience. “Can’t anyone do a simple job anymore?”
    He stepped into the bedroom and Gabe flipped the light switch, only partially surprised at the man revealed.
    “It’s three o’clock in the morning,” he chided. “Tell me, Lincoln Harris, do your parents know where you are?”
    * * * * *
    Rachel sat in a chair at her kitchen table, cradling a hot mug of tea in her hand. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting there. Hours, probably. Gabe had tried repeatedly to get her to go to bed but she seemed stuck in one place, unable to move.
    The shock of seeing Lincoln Harris walk into her house, in a role she never would have ascribed to him, learning he headed a global terrorist organization, had frozen her into virtual immobility. And that he had been cold-hearted enough to kidnap his own father. She was stunned at both the vileness of the act and the revelation of Lincoln Harris as an international terrorist. How could he have involved his own parents? Put their lives in danger?
    She realized with a sick feeling that this was a man with no conscience, no morals, no scruples. Her heart ached for Sam and Loraine and what they would have to face with this stunning revelation.
    Her house had been filled with men dressed in black, speaking in low tones. Dan Killian himself had arrived once Gabe called to tell him they had the big fish. Then Killian had called Homeland Security and three more grim-looking men had shown up.
    Rachel heard snippets of conversation as Lincoln Harris was transferred to the custody of Homeland Security and DRK agents agreed to transport the others downtown to the federal building.
    “We’re square now,” Killian told the HS leader. “Tell your boss he can sign off on the contract.”
    “Will do,” the man said.
    There was a fair amount of scuffling and muffled protests before the prisoners had finally been taken away, Lincoln Harris still cursing and demanding that he be allowed to call his attorney. Rachel didn’t consider herself a violent person, but at that moment if someone had given her a gun she was convinced she could have shot this man without a moment’s hesitation.
    Then it was blessedly quiet but still Rachel couldn’t make herself move. She heard footsteps and when she looked up Gabe was sliding into the chair opposite her. He reached across the table and closed one warm hand over her wrist.
    “Drink your tea,” he urged. “In fact, do you have any brandy?”
    “Yes but I don’t want liquor.”
    “Believe me, your body needs it. Where is it?”
    She told him where to find it and he added a good dose to her tea, then put his hands over hers, lifting the mug to her lips. The mixture burned at first going down but then its warmth spread through her body and she felt her blood begin to circulate again.
    Gabe stood next to her, urging her, until she finished it all, then took the cup away and set it on the counter.
    “Better?” he asked.
    She nodded. “I just can’t seem to wrap my mind around the whole thing,” she told him. “Lincoln Harris. My god, Sam and Loraine will be devastated. They’ll be just sick over this.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “It’s bad enough that he’s willing to plot against his own country, but to kidnap his parents to further his own ends? I don’t know how they’ll ever get over it. Gabe, they are just the nicest people. This will destroy them.”
    “We’ll help them get through this,” he promised her. “You know, he’s the one who recognized me when I showed up at the fundraiser tonight.” He shook his head.
    “Apparently he got on the horn and had someone in place who could give him