Breakaway. Rochelle Alers

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      His hand halted. “You only had one glass.”

      “One glass is my limit.”

      Gavin leaned over the table. “What happens after the second glass?”

      Celia also leaned closer. “I lose my inhibitions.”

      “No!”

      “Yes-s-s,” she slurred. “My tongue doesn’t work well after one glass.”

      Reaching over the table, Gavin took her hands in his. “I promise not to take advantage of you if you do drink that second glass.”

      I wouldn’t care if you did, she mused. Easing her right hand from his loose grip, Celia traced the rim of the wineglass with her forefinger. “I trust you to keep your word,” she lied.

      Gavin’s gaze moved from Celia’s face to her chest. He could discern the lace on her bra under her blouse. The flesh between his thighs stirred when he recalled the press of her firm breasts against his chest. He wanted Celia Cole-Thomas in his bed, he between her legs and his hardened flesh buried so deep inside her they wouldn’t know where one began and the other ended.

      “Are you an only child?” He had to say something, anything to take his mind off the solid bulge in his jeans.

      Celia smiled. “No. I’m the dreaded middle child. I have an older and younger brother.”

      “Being the only girl should’ve made it easier for you.”

      “Wrong, Gavin. Being the only girl isn’t what it’s cracked up to be when you’re a Cole.”

      Gavin forced back a smile. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted Celia to open up to him. “Is there something special about being a Cole?”

      “Very, very special. Have you ever heard of ColeDiz International, Limited?”

      A beat passed as he pretended to search his memory. “No. Why?”

      “ColeDiz is the biggest family-owned agribusiness in the United States.”

      “Will I be able to look it up on the Internet?”

      Celia nodded. “You can, but chances are you won’t find much information because it’s privately owned. There was a time when most of the top positions were relegated only to those with Cole blood, but my father changed that. Now, only the CEO is mandated to be a direct descendant of Samuel Claridge Cole.”

      “Who is Samuel?”

      “He was my great-grandfather. The male members of the family are encouraged to join the family business, while the girls can choose any profession.”

      “Who’s the CEO?”

      “My older brother, Diego.”

      For a moment, Gavin studied Celia intently. “Is your younger brother involved in the family business?”

      She shook her head. “Nicky wants nothing to do with growing and exporting coffee, bananas and cotton. He bought a horse farm in Virginia, and spent millions on horseflesh to improve the bloodlines. He struck gold last year when one of his Thoroughbreds came in first in the International Gold Cup race. My brother did something I thought was very strange. He announced that he was retiring New Freedom and putting him out to stud.”

      Gavin touched a napkin to the corners of his mouth. “That’s a smart move. He can offset his expenses with what he can collect in stud fees.”

      “That’s what he said.”

      “It looks as if your younger brother has found his niche. I…” Whatever Gavin was going to say was preempted when his cell phone rang. Removing it from his waistband, he stared at the caller’s name. Pushing back his chair, he came to his feet. “Excuse me, but I have to take this call.

      “Faulkner,” he said softly, identifying himself as he walked over to where he couldn’t be overheard. Gavin felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. “Did you find Ray?”

      “No. I don’t know how he did it, but he got word to the North Carolina field office that he’s not coming in until he feels it’s safe to surface. And, he’s only going to turn himself in to you.”

      “Weren’t you able to trace the call?”

      “Yeah. It originated somewhere near the Cascades.”

      “How did he get to Oregon?”

      “That’s the million-dollar question. By the time we’d dispatched agents from Portland, Salem and Eugene, there was no trace of him. We don’t know how long it’s going to take him to crisscross the country undetected, but if we have to wait six months, then so be it.”

      “The next time he contacts anyone, tell him to call me.”

      “That’s not going to happen, Faulkner. One thing the Bureau doesn’t want is for anyone to make the connection between the two of you. Stay put and Prentice will contact you.”

      Without warning, the line went dead. Instead of going out to look for Raymond Prentice, he would wait for him to come to him.

      His jaw tightened when he clenched his teeth. He was hoping his brother didn’t view his predicament as a recon mission, playing cat and mouse with a group of ruthless men who viewed him as a traitor. However, Ray Prentice had an advantage the others didn’t: Navy SEAL training.

      Securing the cell phone to his waistband, Gavin returned to sit opposite Celia. Smiling, he stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. Celia Cole-Thomas was sexy, and he suspected she was totally unaware of how sexy she was. Wisps of black hair had escaped the twist on the nape of her neck. His gaze lingered on her full lower lip before moving up to the large dark eyes that reminded him of a velvet midnight sky.

      He’d been ordered to wait in Waynesville for the man who topped the FBI Most Wanted list to contact him, and interacting with the beautiful doctor was certain to make his stay quite enjoyable.

      “What are you smiling about?”

      Her dulcet voice caressed his ear. “I just got some good news,” he half lied. “My next assignment has been postponed to the end of the summer, and that means I get to have an extended vacation to hang out with Terry and Terry’s mama just a wee bit longer.”

      “Why do I get the impression that you’re a wee bit smug about slacking off?”

      “And you’re not, Dr. Thomas? I mean slacking off?”

      Sudden anger lit Celia’s eyes. She’d told Gavin that she didn’t want to talk about why she wasn’t practicing, but he’d insisted when he’d refused to disclose the names of the celebrities and high-profile personalities he’d protected.

      Raising her hand, she signaled for their waiter. “I’ll take the check, please.”

      Rising slightly, Gavin reached into the pocket of his jeans for a money clip. “I’m paying.” The two words were barely off his tongue when Celia gave the waiter a large bill.

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