Author's Note: Wow! I cannot believe all the reviews! Thank you all so much for the support and feedback, it's greatly appreciated. I hope you like this chapter as well and if anyone thinks that I start slipping, be sure and let me know. Here's chapter three! Read on and review!

Chapter Three: Here We Go Again

"Hey, Leese." He said, tilting his head a little to the side and grinning. Her face was priceless. Her pretty grin eyes widened and sort of glazed over and her full mouth dropped open into the shape of a perfect 'O'.

Lisa stood there, feet frozen, her whole body trembling. She just kept telling herself that he wasn't real. Jackson Rippner was not standing in front of her with that damned smirk on his face. He was not absent mindedly drumming his fingers on the wall as if he hadn't a care in the world. He just wasn't there. She would close her eyes, count to five and when she opened them again, he would be gone. She did just that. When she reached five in her mind, she lifted her eyelids...and Jackson winked at her, the bastard.

"No." she breathed the word, so that he could barely hear it. Then, she made a break down the hall.

It hadn't taken Jackson three strides to catch up to her and get his arms around her waist. He jerked her to the side and slammed her against the wall. Lisa lost her grip on her cell phone and watched it go skidding down the hallway. She kicked her leg back and connected firmly with his shin. They both tumbled to the floor and rolled each other over a few times, each one fighting for the top position. Jackson of course overpowered her and wound up on top. Lisa did her best to kick at him and tried to knee him in the groin, but he quickly worked his legs in between her thighs and spread them, pinning her so that her lower body was of no use to her. Now, Lisa wasn't one to really use her upper body without a weapon of some kind because in all honesty, she knew that she was not the strongest person in the world but seeing that she had no other options, she slapped at his face and tried clawing at him. He deflected her blows easily and finally managed to capture her flailing arms, enveloping both of her wrists in one hand and pinning her arms above her head. Lisa opened her mouth to scream but he quickly clamped his free hand down on her throat and squeezed just hard enough to keep her silent. All that escaped from her lips was a strangled, gurgling gasp for breath.

Jackson leaned down so that his face was only a mere inches from hers and inhaled her scent. She smelled just as sweet as he had remembered; her skin was just as soft. He lowered his face a little more so that when he spoke his lips brushed against the shell of her ear as though he were telling her a lover's secret. "Shh...Leese. You don't want to get any of these nice people at your hotel hurt, do you?"

Lisa fought back the urge to cry with everything that she had in her, but it was a pointless battle. Soon enough, her eyes had welled up and the salty drops were freely overflowing.

"Bastard." she growled through clenched teeth with tears and mascara streaming down her flushed cheeks, "You bastard!"

She didn't want to cry in front of him, damn it! She struggled to get herself under control which was easier said than done when all she could feel was his body pressing down on her like a tomb.

Jackson feigned hurt giving her his best wounded look. "Lisa! Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

"Yeah, slamming them into the ground and choking them is a helluva lot better!" she rasped at him.

Jackson grinned. He reveled in the way she squirmed beneath his weight, causing friction between their bodies, unknowingly making this all the sweeter for him. Her hips wiggling against his pelvis, her thighs rubbing back and forth at his hips; he could have stayed in that position all day. He glanced down without even trying to hide the fact that he was looking down the front of her shirt, admiring the lacy pink bra she wore, catching the sight of that hateful scar and pushing down the instant burst of rage that came with it, drowning it down in the feeling of Lisa's chest pressing against his as she breathed. He then dragged his gaze back up to her eyes, sly grin firmly in place. "For old time's sake." He said.

He loosened his grip on her throat slightly so that she could actually speak as opposed to gasping. He wanted to hear what she had to say. He had almost forgotten how he enjoyed their banter.

"Room 4080?" she snapped, narrowing her eyes at him, "God Jack, I didn't think you were that cheesy."

His temper flared up at the name, but he supressed it quickly. He leaned close to her again and nudged her nose with his own as he whispered, "I couldn't resist."

God, he was close. Too close. And he smelled too good. Lisa couldn't believe the thoughts that were going through her mind. They were sick, twisted, unnaturaly thoughts and for the first time she realized that maybe she should have given her father's suggestion of therapy a bit more consideration. She had to get her mind on something else, anything else!

"Who's the new lackey?" she asked nodding her head in the direction of the doorway.

"You killed my old dog, remember? I had to get a new one and they're so hard to train." Jackson replied, unconsciously massaging slow circular motions at her neck with his thumb.

Lisa looked away from him. Her gaze landed on 'Clint Jackson' who was propped against the door jam staring at her exposed thighs. She could feel his beady little eyes on her skin and it revolted her. She turned back to Jackson's burning gaze. "Well, tell your dog to stop ogling me."

Jackson's attention shifted to his associate and he saw the way the man was eyeing Lisa. A wave of anger and jealousy mixed with protectiveness washed over him and he stood at once, jerking Lisa to her feet along with him. He stealthily checked her out to make sure that her clothes had fallen back into place and that she was not exposing any unnecessary flesh. Most of her hair had come loose from her clip and was sticking up in wild, mesy tufts around her face. Jackson wanted to reach over and smooth it down, but he resisted. That was not where he needed to be concentrating at the current moment and time.

As soon as they stood, Lisa felt a quick shot of pain surge through her leg. She had rolled her ankle when Jackson had tackled her. Her balance shifted and she involuntarily rocked and was surprised when Jackson shifted his grip to her elbow to help steady her.

'Clint Jackson' moved to reach for her and Lisa instinctively took a step behind Jackson, who in turn tugged on her arm and actually pulled her a little further behind him as in protection. The gesture threw her off, but she shook the confusion away and focused on the problem at hand.

Jackson blocked Lisa with his body, fixing his comrade with his unflinching gaze. "Easy there, Mellmott."

'Clint Jackson' or Mellmott, spread his hands in submission. "I was just gonna to help you get her into the room, sir."

He had practically spat the word 'sir' and Lisa swore she could feel the tension between the two of them. They did not enjoy working together. He looked looked different somehow. When she had met him last night, he had seemed polite and sophisticated and intelligent like a business man, now he seemed nothing more than a common everyday thug in an overpriced suit. Something about him was very, very wrong. She could sense it now plain as day. How had she not picked up on it before?

"That won't be necessary." Jackson said, pulling Lisa out from behind him, dropping her wrist and placing his hand at the back of her neck instead. "Will it, Lisa?"

The way that the bulky Mellmott was looking at her made Lisa very uncomfortable. She had seen that look before. She would rather take her chances with Jackson any day than to tangle with that oaf. Besides that, something inside of her was telling her that Jackson would not let him hurt her as long as she played along. "No. It won't be necessary."

"Good girl." Jackson whispered in her ear and pushed her into the room in front of him. "Sit down." He commanded and shoved her toward the sofa in the middle of the suite.

Lisa complied with the command, but only so that she could have a look at her ankle. She didn't think it was broken or even sprained; she had just stressed it a bit. She glanced out of the corner of her eye over to where Jackson and Mellmott were standing, obviously in the middle of a very heated discussion.

"I think you should just let me deal with her, Rippner. After all, this is the same little girl nearly did you in." Mellmott said.

"I think you're forgetting why you're here." Jackson hissed.

Mellmott glared at him, "I know my job."

"Obviously not, otherwise you would remember that your job is to do what I say." Jackson said, his voice frighteningly calm, "Now get your ass downstairs and find me the times."

Mellmott spun around and stomped out the door like a petulant child who hadn't gotten his way, slamming the door closed as he left. Jackson let out a deep breath before turning toward Lisa, who looked away quickly trying to pretend that she hadn't just been eavesdropping.

Jackson walked toward her, spreading his hands out in a joking manner, charming smile on those perfect lips of his, "Good help, huh. You know, I had good help once...really miss that guy."

Lisa glared at him, then decided to play along. "What happened to him?" she asked, her voice shaky but defiant. She was determined to at least keep up all appearances of strength, even though she felt like jelly inside.

"An SUV rammed him into a house." Jackson answered, smile never faltering.

"How sad," Lisa said, lowering her voice to its sincerest depths, "Well, you know, sometimes bad things happen to good people."

"So I've heard." He retorted, sitting down next to her on the sofa.

"You're speaking very well. Not even a little rattle. Did it scar?" Lisa asked, pride evident in her voice as she saw the spark of anger flash in Jackson's eyes. She wanted to torment him as he had her.

"Did what scar?" he asked nonchalant.

"You know what." Lisa replied, "Come on, Jack. Let me see it."

Jackson's eyes bore into hers, into her very soul, then he licked his lips and leaned forward unbuttoning his collar. He held the top of his shirt open allowing Lisa to see the incredibly small circular mark at the base of his throat.

She tried to grin but it came out as more of a grimace, "Pretty."

"I like it." Jackson quipped, regaining his metaphorical footing, leaning back, draping an arm over the back of the couch, his other arm resting on his leg. He was the picture of relaxation. "Battle scars. The one on my thigh is better. Very resourceful by the way, I didn't see that one coming. Wanna see the bullet holse, too?"

"Can I make fresh ones?" Lisa countered, struggling to calm her shaking hands.

Jackson didn't answer. Instead he smiled and said, "Did you enjoy your coffee?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The coffee. Did I get it right? Three sugars and half a spoon of sweet cream, right?" he said, grinning as he watched understanding spread over her face.

"It was you." Lisa said.

"I just told you it was." Jackson laughed.

"Not just the coffee, but...the flowers, too."

"Flowers?"

"Yeah, flowers. The white roses you sent to me." Lisa said, scathing at him.

Jackson shook his head, "Hate to break your heart, Leese, but...I didn't send you any flowers."

"Don't lie to me!"

"Lisa, have I ever lied to you?"

Lisa thought about it and the truth was, no. He had inflicted horror after horror after horror on her, but he had always been honest about it.

She stared at him hard, "You didn't send me the flowers?"

Jackson shook his head. For the first time since he'd dragged her into the room, Lisa looked anxious. She started twisting her hands together in knots, her eyes darting from side to side as if she were trying to solve some puzzle in her head. She suddenly and sharply focused on him.

"Then who did?" she asked.

Whoever had sent her those flowers had freaked her out royally. He wanted to suggest that it could have been her father, but then he knew Lisa better than anybody else in the world and that's the first person she would have asked. Then he thought that maybe she had a secret admirer but he had been following her. There was somebody else out there following her, a professional. Someone like him. The thought came into his mind that his former employer may have sent someone to deal with her for botching up the Keefe job. It that was the case, then he didn't want her going anywhere out of his sight.

Lisa's chin quivered as she searched the room with her eyes, contemplating how to get to the phone without bringing him down on her. She could do this. She had gotten away from him once, by God, she could damn well do it again. "Why am I here?" she asked.

"I told you I might steal you." Jackson said, playing himself, making it seem as though he weren't pondering over the thought of her secret admirer.

"So you've come to collect?" she asked.

Jackson glanced upward mimicking as though he was searching for an answer. Lisa took advantage of that small moment and leapt to her feet, racing for the phone in the other room. As soon as she was through the door, she felt Jackson at her heels. That's how it had felt since the very beginning; he was always right at her heels. Then, he had hold of her. Lisa thrashed against him, but to no avail. He threw her onto the bed and then fell on top of her, once again trapping her with his weight.

"Awe, sweetie," he cooed, "if you wanted to get me into bed, all you had to do was ask." He caught both of her wrists in one hand and moved up to straddle her hips, "I wouldn've even made it easy for you." he said once he was sitting on top of her.

Lisa watched in a panic as he reached for his belt buckle. He slipped it off of his trim waist and she immediately had a flashback to that day. The knife at her throat, broad daylight, the sweaty stink of the man, nothing she could do. She hadn't thought Jackson was that type, but she kicked her legs and jerked her arms and began sobbing openly. He had her trapped, nothing she could do. "Don't, Jackson, no!" she cried.

Jackson looked down at her, and upon seeing the fear in her eyes, something in him couldn't let her panic like that. Something inside of him didn't want her to be afraid of him. "Shh. Shh. Calm down, Leese. Don't fight me." He said, his tone gentle and soothing, "I'm not going to do that to you. I wouldn't."

Lisa wasn't sure why but she believed him. She stopped struggling and her muscles relaxed. Jackson draped the belt over his shoulder and tucked his free arm under her and scooted her up higher on the bed. Then he bound her arms to the headboard with the thin leather strip. As he tightened the strap, he looked down at her and Lisa's breath caught in her throat. There was something in his eyes that she wasn't quite sure what to make of. His expression had softened and his lips parted just barely as he stared into her face.

Once her wrists were bound above her head, Jackson slowly slid his hands down Lisa's arms, deliberately brushing his thumbs against the outer swell of her breasts. He followed their curve to the middle of her ribcage then continued his descent, sliding his fingers down her waist, the tips of his thumbs just grazing either side of her belly button. He applied a slight pressure to her hip bones with his palms, smiling when he heard the quick little squeak burst from Lisa's lips. He then moved his hands toward her back, caressing the soft flesh of her bottom. He stared into her eyes the entire time...and she didn't look away. His hands settled momentarily on her upper thighs as he gently kneaded at the strong muscles with his fingers.

Lisa did not approve of her body's reaction to Jackson's touch. Her pulse had quickened, her breathing had grown shallow, and there was definitely a distinguishable heat radiating from her intimate regions. She knew that she should react, should kick him, should do something. But she couldn't get her mind to clear. The way he so lovingly caressed her, those gorgeous blue eyes boring into her own, holding her trapped in their unbreakable gaze. His hands were soft but rough; not the kind of rough that came from hard labor but the kind that came from excessive hunting. His hands continued to travel down her legs, squeezing her calves as he passed them. He reached her ankles, then hooked the tips of his fingers into the heels of her pumps and pulled them off of her feet and broke into a grin.

"Bad memories." he said.

Lisa almost laughed. The tension had completely drained from her body for the moment and the situation almost felt like a young woman and her lover messing around in the bedroom as opposed to a woman and her capture. It felt wrong for her to be so relaxed around him, but at the same time she didn't think anything had ever felt more natural in her life.

Jackson shrugged out of his jacket and slid up beside her on the bed. He turned on his side facing her, bracing himself on his elbow. He stared at her. He knew that his eyes were betraying him. They had always exploded with intense emotion and right now, he knew that Lisa could see his lust, his desire for her. He knew that he shouldn't have done what he just had, but he had not been able to deny himself the pleasure of being able to touch her.

"You know they'll come looking for me." Lisa said suddenly, finally regaining her ability to speak, though he voice still trembled. She guessed that it would probably be that way for the rest of the time that she was around him. He seemed to have that kind of an affect on her.

"Who? Cynthia?" Jackson smirked, widening his eyes for effect as he said the name.

Lisa nodded, unsure of why that seemed to amuse him.

"Good thing we won't be here long then, isn't it?" he said.

"What do you mean?" Lisa asked.

"Means to an end, Leese. Means to an end."

He rolled over onto his back and tucked his hands beneath his head. Lisa watched his movements; watched as his eyes started to drift closed and then began to work her wrists out of the belt. She was pulling so hard at the leather that she had begun to rub her skin raw.

"Don't make me have to redo that." Jackson said without opening his eyes. "Cause next time, I'll just knock you out. We don't want a repeat of last time."

"Why?" Lis said, "I seem to recall kicking the shit out of you last time."

He looked at her through one eye and smiled. She really had, he couldn't deny it, though he himself had gotten in a few pretty good blows. Maybe what really turned him on about her was that he knew whatever he dished out to her, she could take it, turn it around, and dish it right back to him. She was a constant challenge and there weren't many things out there that challenged him. He stretched his arms, toed off his shoes, and yawned as he turned his face toward her.

"Wanna watch some TV?" he asked.

"There's not one in here." Lisa informed.

"I noticed that." Jackson said hopping up from the bed and walking toward the door, "I don't get it either. I mean, you're a hotel person, maybe you can explain it. Why is there no TV in the bedroom? Everyone has a TV in the bedroom. Easy enough problem to solve, though." He flashed her a cheeky grin and disappeared from the room.

Lisa just watched him go. She didn't know whether to laugh, scream, or fall in love. What was he doing? He was being all charming like he had been when she had first met him at the check in line at the airport. It was like he was trying to act as though she was there with him willingly or something. Her eyes moved up to her restraints, which she was not struggling against. Was she there willingly?

The sound of Jackson reentering the room brought her gaze back down, only to find that it wasn't Jackson at all, but Mellmott. His beady eyes gleamed at her.

"Well, isn't this a pretty sight?" He said. He had shed his suit jacket and wore his button up open at the collar. He stood there in the doorway, leering at her. "Where's Rippner?"

"O-other room." Lisa said. His eyes were roaming her body, making her skin want to crawl away from her bones at the very thought of him touching it.

"Interesting." Mellmott said, closing the bedroom door.

Lisa was struggling rather desperately against the belt now. Mellmott put one knee on the foot of the bed, the mattress squeaking loudly as if to voice Lisa's protest for her. He touched her foot and Lisa kicked at him. His bulky arm swatted her leg away like it was nothing and he kept coming toward her.

"Jackson!" she screamed.

"Hush up, pretty." Mellmott said, his tongue darting out of his mouth to moisten his lips.

The man had completely morphed from the polite business man she had met downstairs in the lobby the previous night. He had turned into some kind of a monster from a nightmare. She tugged one wrist free just as he reached her upper body and swung a balled up fist at him. She caught him right in the jaw, causing his balance to shift slightly, but other than that she had done little to no real damage. She went to untie the belt from her other wrist, but Mellmott grabbed her hand and pinned it down to her side.

"I'll give Rippner this," he said, "he has good taste in women."

"Thank you." An icy voice said, causing Mellmott's entire body to go rigid.

Lisa peeked around his gigantic form and breathed a sigh of relief. Jackson was standing at the foot of the bed, feet shoulder width apart, and a silenced 9mm in his hand aimed right at the back of Mellmott's skull.

"Get off of her and I won't shoot you." He said in a controlled voice.

"Please," Mellmott scoffed, "you and I both know you can't hit shit, Rippner."

"You don't have to be a good shot when the barrel is six inches from the target." Jackson said, the wickedly malicious tone that Lisa knew so well dancing in his voice, "However, if you prefer my usual method, I'd be more than happy to oblige."

It was then that Lisa spotted the sheen by Jackson's thigh. In his free hand, he held a very long, very sharp looking knife. A K-bar, Lisa assumed. His face was deadly serious. She had only seen that look on his face once and it was right before he had tried to gut her with a weapon very similar to the one he now held at his side.

Mellmott pushed himself away from Lisa and off the bed and turned to face Jackson. Jackson wanted to pull the trigger as punishment for Mellmott even thinking that he had the right to touch Lisa. He wanted to make it perfectly clear that Lisa was his. She belonged to him. His property. But not yet, time was short and Jackson still needed him.

"Go get the car." He said, tucking the gun into the back of his waistband. As soon as Mellmott was out the door, Jackson propped his left foot up on the edge of the bed and lifted the pant leg to return the knife to the sheath that was strapped to his calve. He had never revealed the blade to Mellmott and Lisa had the sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't have, not until he had rammed it through Mellmott's gut anyway. "Looks like it's time to go." He said, walking up to the head of the bed and reaching to help Lisa free her other hand.

"Hey," Lisa said, trying to get Jackson to look at her. He ceased what he was doing and gave her his full attention. She looked him directly in those pretty eyes of his and said, "Get a new dog."

Author's Note: That was it. I apologize for the bump and grind earlier in the chapter, but it was a dirty part of my mind that needed satisfaction. And, let's face it, how many of us can honestly say that we haven't secretly wanted Jackson Rippner to come waltzing in randomly and just tie us to a bedpost? Any how, thanks for reading and don't forget to let me know what you think!