That damn fear was trying to rise again. Roshelle thrust it down. She was going to find Christina! She could feel those green eyes on her. Despite her determination to seek her goal, there was no way she could disregard her sense of self-preservation. This was not a man to turn your back on.

     "Return to your room."

     That deep voice sailed at her out of the darkness. He stopped just short of her field of vision.

     "I want to see Christina."

     "When you answer my questions, you will see your friend. Not before."

     His voice carried a note that indicated he expected complete obedience to his order. Setting her eyes on the night, she searched for him. Her eyes couldn't find him, but her mind could. Her brain stung with the knowledge of his company. She had made it this far by calling his bluff; maybe it was time to call another one.

     This was the woman that he had just scared to the point of tears? Jared stared as she lifted her chin into the air before turning her back on him to continue on her way to Shanes house.

     She could feel him on her heels, but Roshelle was too mad to let the fear rise up to control her. She would see Christina! If she needed to face one more nightmare on the road than she would do it on her own terms!

     Whipping about on her heel she came face to face with the man that haunted her dreams. One hand was stretched out towards her but fell down to his side as he noted her attention on him.

     Forcing her eyes to travel over his body, Roshelle drank in the details that confirmed his humanity. She watched as he clamped his jaw together in anger. The evidence of his temper made him more real.

     But God, he was still a monster.

     He had to be at least six foot four or better. Less then three feet separated them forcing her to tip her head back to lock eyes with him. The emerald intensity of his glare was forcing an invasion of her thoughts. Refusing to endure it, Roshelle moved her eyes over the black hair that covered his head. It was shaved away to a bare quarter inch. Coupled with the green and brown fatigues that he wore she searched his face looking for the type of smeared paint you saw on movie actors when they were portraying soldiers.

     This man was no actor. Between the thick muscles that covered his shoulders to the sharp attention in his eyes, Roshelle could almost taste the aggression in him. This guy didn't hang out at the gym waiting for his agent to call.

     No, he spent his time tracking down his prey.