arson Harcourt sat in his study, poring over the production records for the month. It took a moment for the light knock on his door to penetrate his thoughts. When he looked up, he saw his housekeeper, Isabel Flores, standing in the open doorway.

"I am sorry to bother you, Señor Harcourt, but your brother just drove up in front of the house. I thought you would want to know."

"I appreciate that. Thank you, Isabel." Carson watched her walk off down the hall, hips swaying, full breasts jiggling, and thought how smart he had been to hire her. She was wise enough to treat him with respect whenever she was working in the house, and she knew how to please him in bed.

His groin tightened. He'd been busy lately, getting ready for the lettuce harvest. He'd also been working with Walter Simino, preparing to launch his campaign for the assembly, which he would begin in early spring, starting with a big barbecue to announce his candidacy. With so much on his mind, he could use a little sexual relief and Isabel managed that quite nicely.

And since she was in the country without a green card, he didn't have to worry about her giving him any trouble. Carson made a mental note to pay the girl a visit tonight.

He was smiling as he looked up to see his brother walk through the door. The smile instantly faded.

"Well, look who's here. What brings you out from under your rock, today, Zach?"

Zach's expression remained bland. After years of goading, he had taught himself incredible control. Only the faint tick of a muscle along his jaw said Carson's jibe had been effective.

"Something came up. I thought you might be interested."

"Really. Something like what?"

"A guy called me a couple of days ago. He was working on a book about agriculture in the San Joaquin Valley. He was interested in Harcourt Farms. He thought I might be able to help him with some of the history."

"You're right, that is interesting. Are you sure this isn't going to have some kind of negative slant?"

"He's just concerned with the history."

"Have him give me a call. I'll see what I can do."

"He wanted me to talk to some of the longtime workers, see what they might remember about the place in the old days. I figured you wouldn't have time. I told him I'd give it a try, see what I could turn up."

The last thing Carson wanted was to spend time with his farm workers. That's why he hired overseers.

"I told him I'd talk to you about it," Zach continued. "I figure once he gets the basics, he'll want to talk to you about the other aspects of the farming operation."

Now that was more like it. He wouldn't mind having something written about him and the success of Harcourt Farms, as long as it had a positive ring. Let Zach do the unpleasant legwork.

Still, there was something in his half brother's manner that bothered him. Zach was never much good at lying. Carson wondered how he managed to earn those fat legal fees he got in L.A.

"All right, go ahead. Stiles hasn't been here that long. He probably wouldn't do you any good." Lester Stiles was foreman of Harcourt Farms, Carson's right-hand man. "Mariano Nunez has probably been working here the longest. He lives in the third house down the row."

"Yeah, I remember him. He ran the orchard crew back when I was in high school. I remember he was my boss when I worked the shaker in the almond harvest."

"Maybe the old man can tell you something of interest. And tell your guy—what did you say his name was?"

Zach glanced away, a sure sign he wasn't being completely honest. "Steven Baines."

"Tell Baines to call me. I'll set aside some time for an interview."

Zach just nodded. "Great. Thanks. You wouldn't have any kind of list, would you? Something that might tell the names of the people who worked here over the years?"

Carson eyed Zach warily. He didn't like the direction this conversation was going. "No. Why would you need a list?"

Zach shrugged, but his shoulders looked tense. "I just thought it might be useful, jog some memories. At any rate, the next time I talk to him, I'll tell Baines to give you a call."

Carson watched his brother walk out of the study, more certain than ever that something was going on. He'd find out what. He practically ran San Pico. People told him whatever he wanted to know. Well, he wanted to know what Zach was up to and it wouldn't take him long to find out.

Carson picked up the phone.

* * *

Zach left the house and headed for the workers' compound. He still had a bad taste in his mouth from his conversation with Carson. He hated to ask the bastard for anything. He just hoped the result would be worth it.

It was Sunday, a day off for a number of people on the farm so there were more people than usual around the housing area. Zach spent the morning talking to some of the longtime workers, and the head overseer, Mariano Nunez, a weathered old Mexican who had been employed by Harcourt Farms for more than thirty years.

"I remember the old gray house," the old man said. "I had friends who lived there…the Espinozas. Juan Espinoza came up with me from Mexico."

The old man remembered a couple of other residents who had lived in the wood-framed house over the years. The Rodriquez family had been the only other residents of the new yellow house besides the Santiagos. The last resident of the gray house, a man named Axel Whitman, had lived alone for a number of years. Zach wrote down all of the names Mariano could remember, but he didn't know where any of them had gone after they left the farm.

Juan Espinoza and his family had lived there the longest, Mariano told him, then moved to a farming community near Fresno, where Juan had later died. As far as the old man could recall, no one had ever died in the house, at least not in the thirty years he had lived on the farm.

Zach didn't see the foreman, Les Stiles, anywhere around but he wouldn't talk to the man if he did. Stiles kissed Carson's ass, big-time. Odds were, he wouldn't know anything useful and asking him questions might make Carson suspicious.

Zach thought about calling Liz with the morning's unhelpful information, but decided against it. He needed to go out to Teen Vision, see how things were coming along with the barn.

Maybe instead of calling, he'd stop by her house before he drove back to L.A.

* * *

Raul Perez hung up the phone in the hall outside his dorm room. He had called his sister, but Maria was away at the grocery store, so he had talked to Miguel instead. It wasn't a pleasant conversation. His brother-in-law had ranted and raved, furious at Maria, angry at her friend, Elizabeth Conners, and the brother of the man who owned Harcourt Farms.

"Your sister thinks there is a ghost in the house. She is acting completely crazy. I cannot believe it!"

"Maybe there is a ghost," Raul said softly.

"Por Dios, if you believe that, you are as crazy as she is! If there is a ghost, why have I not seen it? Why is it just your sister?"

It was a very good question, one Raul had pondered himself. "I don't know. Maybe there is a ghost, maybe there isn't, but Maria is afraid."

"She doesn't have to be afraid. Not as long as I am here to protect her. On visiting day, I will bring her out to see you. Talk to her, tell her she is being foolish. Maybe she will listen to you."

Raul nodded, though Miguel could not see. "I will do my best." Raul hung up the phone, and unconsciously his hand clenched into a fist. His sister was frightened. He didn't know what was happening to her, but something was wrong and he was powerless to help her.

He started down the dormitory stairs to join his roommate, Pete Ortega, in the mess hall, his stomach rumbling, reminding him it was time for lunch though his appetite wasn't nearly as big as it had been before he'd talked to Miguel.

"Raul! Wait up!"

Turning, he saw Zachary Harcourt hurrying to catch up with him, heading in the same direction he was.

"Hi, Zach."

"Hey, kid. Good to see you." The dark-haired man looked into his face and Raul's smile faded. "What's the matter? You look like your dog just died."

Raul sighed. "It's my sister. I talked to Miguel this morning."

"Damn. Then I guess you know I'm not exactly on his good list and neither is Ms. Conners."

"He said you were out at the house last night, looking for the ghost."

"Not exactly, but close enough."

"Did you see it?"

Zach shook his head. "I don't know if what's happening out there is real or not, but something's going on and we're going to find out what it is. Once we do, your sister won't have to be afraid."

"I am worried about her. I wish I could be there to help her."

Zach stopped walking and caught Raul's arm. "Listen, Raul. I'm not exactly sure how I got in the middle of this mess, but now that I am, I'm not going to abandon you or your sister. I'm not quitting until the problem is resolved. I give you my word on that."

Raul felt a wave of relief so strong something burned behind his eyes. "Thank you."

Zach clapped him on the back. "You just keep doing as well as you have been. That's all the thanks I need."

Raul just nodded. His throat felt too tight to speak.

"Come on," Zach said, his hand back on Raul's shoulder, steering him toward the mess hall. "I'm starving. Let's get something to eat."

Raul let him lead the way, determined not to worry about his sister. Zachary Harcourt had given his word. Raul just prayed he would keep it.

* * *

Zach pulled down his visor against the glare of the late afternoon sun. He should have been driving the opposite direction, heading east down the highway toward Interstate 5, on his way back to his Pacific Palisades apartment, getting ready for a long day at the office tomorrow. They were starting to take depositions on the Themoziamine case this week and he needed to be prepared.

Instead, he was driving down Main Street, turning onto Cherry Avenue, pulling up in front of Liz's apartment building. He'd only stay a minute, he told himself, just long enough to fill her in on his unsuccessful morning at Harcourt Farms.

Shoving the gearshift into Park, he turned off the engine, then hesitated only a moment before opening the door into the pervasive afternoon heat and climbing out of the car. Making his way to apartment B, he knocked on Liz's front door, and a few minutes later, she pulled it open.

"Zach! What are you doing here?"

His mind went completely blank. She was standing there in a little orange bikini that showed every luscious curve of her body. Her glorious dark auburn hair was wet and she was drying it with a beach towel, obviously having just come in from the pool. His body stirred to life and he went rock hard.

He cleared his throat but didn't look away. "I know I should have called. I just decided at the last minute to stop by. I wanted to tell you what happened when I went out to see my brother."

Noticing the greedy way he was devouring her with his eyes, she wrapped the beach towel around her hips and tied it in a knot.

Damn, she was sexy. He wasn't sure exactly what she had that made her different from other women he had known, but she sure as hell had something.

"Come on in." She stepped back smiling, inviting him in, and he walked into the living room and closed the door behind him. "Give me a minute to put on some dry clothes."

His gaze slid over her breasts, barely covered by the tiny cups of her bathing suit top, and his body tightened. "Don't bother on my account."

Liz's smile deepened, until her glance caught on the thick ridge at the front of his Levi's and something shifted in her pretty blue eyes. "I'll be right back," she said, her voice a little huskier than before.

She started to turn away, but Zach caught her hand and tugged her around to face him. He hadn't meant to do it, but when her eyes widened in surprise and her lips parted, he hauled her into his arms and claimed her mouth.

Her hands came up to his chest and for an instant he thought she meant to push him away, then he felt her tongue slide over his as she kissed him back and every cell in his body caught fire.

Christ, he wanted her. His fingers closed around the towel and he untied the knot she had made, let the damp material puddle on the floor. Her orange bikini was wet, clinging to the cheeks of her bottom, and he cupped them, kneaded the firm round flesh, and heard her soft moan.

He glanced toward the window and saw that the curtains were mostly drawn, slid a hand into her thick, wet hair, and deepened the kiss. The sides of her swimsuit bottom fastened with tiny orange bows. He pulled one and then the other, jerked the wisp of fabric away and tossed it into a corner. The top went next, exposing those full, rose-tipped breasts. He suckled each one and she began to tremble.

"Zachary…?"

He could hear the uncertainty in her voice, tinged heavily with desire. He refused to give her time to think, time to withdraw from him again. Instead, he backed her up against the wall and unbuttoned the fly of his jeans. He was hard as granite as he urged her legs apart and began to stroke her. The plump softness was slick and wet and he realized she was as ready as he.

"I want you so damned much," he said, kissing the side of her neck, then taking her mouth again. Positioning himself at the entrance to her passage, he lifted her a little and drove himself home.

* * *

Elizabeth bit back a sob. Zach was here and he was inside her, exactly where she wanted him to be. She was shaking, her body trembling at the feel of him, at the heavy length filling her, heating her from the inside out. He hooked her legs around his waist and pressed his mouth against the side of her neck, and the warm slickness of his tongue spread goose-bumps over her skin.

There was something wildly erotic about being naked while Zach remained fully clothed. She could feel the roughness of his jeans against her thighs, the brush of the buttons on his shirt against her breasts. As he surged inside her, she worked those buttons frantically, then pulled the fabric apart and pressed her breasts against his chest.

She could feel his heartbeat, feel the lean muscles expanding and contracting. Tightening her hold around his neck, she settled her mouth over his for a deep, penetrating kiss and heard him groan.

He gripped her bottom as he filled her again, gliding in and then out, thrusting deeply, his heavy strokes lifting her onto her toes, impaling her again and again. God, she wanted this, wanted him. Every place he touched her seemed to burn.

"Zachary…" There was no uncertainty now. She knew what she wanted, what her body wanted, and she gave into it, let the heat and need wash over her, let her desire for him blot out everything around her.

Zach lifted her, wrapped her legs around his waist, and drove into her again, deep pounding strokes that filled her with pleasure. Her body shook and her pulse hammered. She had never felt like this, never felt as if each moment he claimed a bigger part of her.

It was frightening, terrifying, and yet she was powerless to stop it.

Zach drove into her again, his hands gripping her bottom, holding her in place to receive each of his thrusts. Fresh waves of pleasure washed through her, and a deep, pulsing need. She hovered on the edge of climax, her body desperate for release, yet not wanting the sensations to end.

She felt the warmth of Zach's mouth against her ear, the whorl of his tongue. "Come for me, Liz."

And the wave tore free. She was flying, spinning through the stars, drenched in sensations so sweet she never wanted them to end. Zach followed her to release and the tension in his muscles, the fierceness of his climax, sent her into fresh spasms of pleasure.

Zach gently kissed her, then set her back down on her feet. His eyes found hers and his expression grew concerned.

"I didn't come here for this, I swear. I just…I saw you standing there and you looked so damned beautiful…and I wanted you…so damned much." He blew out a breath, raked a hand through his hair. Reaching down, he picked up her towel and handed it over. "Where you're concerned, my usual self-control seems to go right out the window."

Elizabeth wrapped the towel around her, covering her body from breast to thigh, tucked the fabric in at the top. "I could have stopped you."

"Yes."

"I wanted you, too, Zach."

He reached out and touched her cheek. "There's nothing wrong with two people wanting each other."

She looked away from him, trying not to feel regret for what they had done. "I don't suppose there is."

"Let me spend the night."

She started shaking her head. "I don't think—"

"You don't think it's a good idea."

"And you do?"

He sighed heavily. "I'm not sure. There's something going on here, Liz. And it's more than just sexual attraction. I feel it and so do you."

"Whatever we might be feeling—it doesn't change the way things are."

"Maybe it does. Why don't we wait and see?"

She walked away from him, away from the heat that had returned to his eyes and the look she had seen there before. She told herself not to imagine it was yearning. Whatever it was, it didn't change what he was, didn't change the fact that he had always been a loner and always would be. Didn't lessen the awful risk she would be taking if she allowed herself to get more deeply involved with him.

"I need to go change," she said, wanting to put some distance between them. "I'll be right back."

Zach just nodded, reading her thoughts, a look of resignation on his face.

Elizabeth returned a few minutes later, dressed in a pair of tan shorts and a crisp white blouse, her resolve back in place. No matter how much she desired him, she couldn't take the risk.

She walked past him toward the kitchen. "I made a pitcher of iced tea just before you got here. Would you like a glass?"

He nodded. "Sounds good."

She noticed he had straightened his clothes and combed his hair. He looked as good as he had when he'd walked through the door and it bothered her to realize she wanted him again.

She busied herself dropping ice cubes into glasses and filling them with tea. Setting the glasses down on the kitchen table along with a spoon, she shoved the sugar bowl over to Zach's side of the table.

His eyes remained on her face. "It's fine the way it is." He picked up the icy glass and took a long swallow, and she watched the long muscles moving in his throat.

"Did you get a chance to talk to your brother?" she asked, determined not to think of sex with Zach.

"Actually, that's the reason I stopped by. I talked to Carson. Unfortunately, he says there isn't any list of former tenants. I also talked to some of the workers. Mariano Nunez has been there the longest. He remembered most of the families who lived in the house while he was there. I wrote them down."

He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and tossed it down on the table. "But the old man had no idea where to find them. He says as far as he knows, no one ever died in either the old house or the new one."

"That leads us nowhere."

"We've still got the utility companies. You'll take a stab at them tomorrow?"

She nodded. "I can get away from work for an hour or so, I think. I'll see if I can dig up any information."

"You haven't eaten supper, have you?"

"No, but…Look, Zach—"

"We could order some more Chinese—or maybe a pizza, sit around and watch a little TV."

"Or you could go back to your world and I could stay here in mine."

"We could do that. I don't want to."

She looked at him, looked into those intense golden brown eyes, and her heart clenched. "I don't want to, either."

She couldn't believe she'd said it. Now that she had, she realized it was true, and that it didn't really matter anymore. She was already in way over her head. Whatever happened, she was going to get hurt.

In the meantime, she had Zach. She would enjoy the time they had together.

She set her glass of tea down on the table, walked up and slid her arms around his neck, kissed him full on the mouth.

"Let's order something later," she whispered against his ear. "I can think of something a whole lot better to do than eat."

Zach grinned and kissed the side of her neck. "We'll have to see about that." Lifting her up in his arms, he carried her into the bedroom.