Oh, for Christ’s sake, it’s just plants, Marcott. Nothin’ more.

Angrier by the minute, he glanced at the digital readout of his watch.

She was late. Nearly ten minutes late. So he’d give her another five and then he was gone…a ghost.

Besides, he had more important things to do than to waste time on her.

Snap!

He whipped around, toward the sound of a twig breaking.

He saw no one.

“Hey, I’m here,” he said in his normal voice.

Nothing…no response, just the faraway thrum of music and laughter and the soft whisper of the wind.

A stealthy footstep.

The hairs on his nape lifted.

Surely it was she.

Right?

“’Bout time you showed up,” he said to the inky darkness, his heart pounding a little.

“I was about to give up on you.”

Again, she didn’t say a word.

Christ, what was the problem with her?

Always playing these damn head games.

At that thought, he smiled…maybe that’s what she wanted. For him to chase her down. Find her in this maze of clipped shrubbery.

He heard the sound of a footstep again. Closer now. And something else…breathing.

Oh, she was close…

“I know you’re there,” he whispered.

He couldn’t help the smile that threatened his lips.

Still, she didn’t respond.

All the better.

“Have it your way,” he said. “I’ll find you.”

His eyes narrowed in the night and he noticed a dark shape move a bit…away from the twisted shadows of the topiary only to fade away again.

So this is what she wanted.

A thrill of anticipation sang through his brain. His blood heated.

Jake Marcott could never back away from a challenge.

Where the hell is Jake?

He’d been gone for over ten minutes, and Kristen had the first worrisome sensation that she’d been ditched. At the high-school dance. By her new boyfriend. On the two-month anniversary of when they’d started dating. It was like the lyrics of some bad 1950s song.