PROLOGUE

“Find my wife, and I’ll make sure you never want for anything in your life.”

Kane Hawthorne studied the bank president seated behind the large mahogany desk: Tailored pin-striped suit, tailored haircut, tailored smile. Everything about Sam Perkins was calculated to elicit trust. Calculated being the operative word. In Kane’s world, trust was a rare commodity that had to be earned.

“My fee plus expenses will be enough. Half now, the rest in a secured account in another bank, paid on delivery.” Kane’s attention remained fixed on the smaller man. Something wasn’t right. Kane’s focused intensity had been known to unnerve most men. He’d used it to his advantage often and never took it for granted. But Perkins’s gaze didn’t waver, nor did he seem to mind being scrutinized. His expression was faintly smug, superior.

“I’m going to need more information,” Kane said quietly.

“Whatever it takes. I just want her found and brought back to me before something happens to her.”

Kane went on full alert. “You said she ran because you cut off her line of credit. You think she’s in danger?”

Perkins smiled. “Elizabeth may be beautiful, but … well, you know how women are with money. She thought that because I run the bank, I’m loaded. I simply wanted to make a point, but Elizabeth is impulsive. She can be very temperamental when she doesn’t get her way. I’m afraid she’ll do something foolish to spite me. I want her back safe and sound before she gets mixed up in something she can’t handle.”

“Sounds as if you’d be better off without her,” Kane observed, his voice flat, devoid of emotion.

An odd light flickered briefly in Perkins’s eyes, and it struck Kane that it was the first honest emotion he’d detected in the man.

Passion. It existed in Sam Perkins. But what inspired it? His young wife? Was that why Perkins was so hot to have her back? A bed could get real cold at night in Idaho. Kane felt a distinct chill.

“All the facts, Perkins. Or I walk.”

“Fine. I need her back. Without her, I’m nothing.”

Kane glanced at the blond woman smiling gaily up at him from a gold-plated frame on the desk. His gaze moved to Perkins’s hands. White knuckles showed against the strain of gripping the edge of that same desk.

No, this was a man with a score to settle. He wanted his lovely, money-grubbing wife back so badly, he’d give up anything to get her. Why? What difference did it make?

It was just another job.

He looked Perkins in the eye. “You’ve got yourself a bounty hunter.”