"Dinner's ready." Lincoln's voice startled her so much that she jumped and clutched at her chest. He was right behind her.

"Jesus, warn me next time, Delta Force, or I'll tie a cat bell on you." His lean, muscled form was filling the narrow doorway. His arms were crossed, not in a way that suggested he was mad, but rather relaxed. She had begun over the last few days to piece together more and more of the puzzle that was Lincoln Atwood. There was something to be said for having no ...