Normally having a man on top of me would have been the highlight of my day. Especially this particular man. But unfortunately, the racing pulse I was currently experiencing had nothing to do with nearing the ever-elusive doomsday orgasm. It had much more to do with the disturbingly large guns currently trained at my head.

Ranger locked eyes with me a moment as we lay there nose to nose, asking the unspoken question if I was okay. My body was so numb from the surge of adrenaline, I probably wouldn't have noticed even if I had taken a bullet, but I gave an affirmative nod anyway. He seemed to accept that and slowly got to his feet, bringing his hands behind his head as the men continued shouting with their guns.

I tried to follow suit, but my body wasn't all that interested in cooperating. I'm definitely more of a "flight" than "fight" kind of girl. Even though at this juncture, I'm not sure either response was available. My arms and legs had completely shut down, and I literally could not move.

Panic started settling in as I wondered if I really had sustained a serious injury, but fortunately, I didn't have to wonder long. The taller of the men in the dark masks grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to my feet. As if by magic, my knees locked into place and my legs held. Phew. That was a good sign, wasn't it? I could probably rule out paralysis.

I stared down at my toes and wiggled them. Good news! All those little piggies wiggled. And even better news, I was still standing. Ten whole seconds, and I hadn't collapsed. I was improving by leaps and bounds, which probably meant the adrenaline was starting to wear off.

Thank God.

I took some deep breaths and finally started processing things outside of my own personal bubble. Of course, by then, Ranger and I were being "escorted" from the room. Guess you can't really linger very long if you've just busted up some windows and scared the hell out of half the hotel clientele with rapid gun fire.

We moved down the hall, guns digging into our backs until we reached the housekeeping supply room. Once there, we were ordered to dress in some already-prepared housekeeping uniforms, and then the four of us rode down the service elevator to the ground floor. One big, happy housekeeping family. The unimaginative and overused trick seemed to work though. We made it out of the building without a hitch just as the parade of sirens started wailing from the parking lot.

Lovely.

A delivery truck was waiting for us, parked a block over. Masked man number one threw the back open, shoved Ranger inside, and followed him in to cuff him to the interior. I watched suspiciously as Ranger let the events happen. You see, Ranger is in complete control of everything, always. He's in control of his heartrate, his breathing, his plans. Hell, sometimes I wonder if he can even control time. So believe me when I tell you, if he didn't want to be cuffed to that delivery truck right at that moment, he wouldn't have been.

Which meant he wanted it to happen. It was part of the plan. I tried to let that be a comfort as the world continued spinning like a violent tornado around me.

The guy still standing outside waited for his buddy to jump out before grabbing me by the hair and yanking my head back. He leaned in close with his nose to my neck and inhaled.

"She your personal whore?" he sneered, curling a smile up at Ranger.

Ranger's eyes darkened to a shade shy of murderous, and I think I almost wet my pants.

"You've chosen well," he continued, nuzzling my neck. "I'll bet those eyes pull you in like an ocean current when you're buried deep inside her." He glanced down. "And her rack's not bad either."

Not bad? I wasn't sure whether to be pissed by the implications or the fact the statement was made by some nasty douchebag who had no business admiring my rack in the first place. I guess it didn't really matter. The good news was my fear was quickly being replaced by some good ole fashioned Italian rage, and when Mad Stephanie showed up, you could almost always count on things getting a little interesting.

Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Doofus snickered to themselves as they shut the back of the truck.

"Hey," I said, glaring up at them. "Aren't I supposed to be back there too?"

That got me a sneer. "You're sittin' up front with us, sweetheart. For insurance purposes."

Yeah, well that wasn't exactly a bad idea. But I had a feeling these morons didn't come up with it all on their own. Time to see just how smart they really were.

"You're making a mistake," I said, trying to keep my voice as calm and level as possible. "Your instructions were probably to lock up the guy in charge, right? Bring him back to have a chat with you boss? Yeah, well, I hate to disappoint you, but you've got the wrong guy chained up back there. He's not the guy in charge."

I heard a laugh. "What? Who is then, sweetcakes? You?" More laughing.

I turned and looked them straight in the eye. "Yes."

The laughs died down as the men studied me a bit more intently. "You expect us to believe a woman's in charge of Hombre's Honeys? Get real, lady. I've never heard of such a thing."

"Yeah, you're right," I shrugged sheepishly. "It was worth a try though, huh? I mean, that's just way too far-fetched to think that a woman would disguise her brilliant, money-making empire with a front man like that. Run everything from behind the scenes and keep a low profile. I mean, no one's that clever, right?" I stared them down until they looked away.

Judging by the rapid glances that followed, my little speech was hitting its mark.

"You two go right along with your plan," I smiled. "I won't pull any more funny business, I promise."

One raised eyebrow and a quick whispery side discussion later, and I was tossed in the back with Ranger. Cuffed too. Guess they were genuinely worried I was some kind of brilliant mastermind. Depending on how you wanted to look at it, maybe I was.

Ranger's mouth twitched as soon as the door slammed shut. "Babe."

"Glad someone's finding all of this amusing." I rolled my eyes. "You've got a plan, right? Like maybe you're not really cuffed back here like they think you are?"

He rattled the chains against the wall. "Not getting out of these anytime soon. Pretty sure they're Hiatt."

"I don't care if they're diamond-studded from Tiffany's. You can still get out of them, right?"

"No."

"No?! What do you mean no?"

"I mean no. But I've always got a plan." He flashed me a grin.

We stood there a moment as the van started to move.

"And?" I asked.

"And we've got a bit of a drive ahead of us. How about that talk?"

Seriously? He wanted to talk NOW?

"You know," I said, narrowing my eyes. "If I didn't think it absolutely absurd, I would almost say you planned all of this. Just to get me to talk to you."

Ranger shrugged. "Maybe think of it more like killing two birds with one stone. Ever the opportunist, I'm always glad to take advantage of a moment. We've got that moment, babe. Let's talk."

A/N: One good cliffie deserves another? Sorry, guys. It was a good chapter break. And you have melyons to thank for the quick(er) turnaround on the update. She's a good arm-twister :) PS: thank you all for your continued reviews and support! They really make my day.