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Robert Braden through a mutual friend. He’d never said anything about Robert working for him. Another lie.
    â€œThanks for the call, Mom.”
    â€œWhen am I going to see you?”
    â€œI’ll come by after the surgery to check on you and see Jennessy.” But maybe it was better if he didn’t see them before he died.
    â€œThat would be great. You have a wonderful day, sweetheart. I hope this is a special year.”
    â€œMe, too.”
    He hung up, his thoughts as dark as the corners of the maze. His mother had confirmed what the Rogues had told him. Whatever he’d ended up being in the middle of…he had a feeling it was going to end his life.

CHAPTER 4
    O livia stood at the French doors in one of the mission rooms at the end of the hallway, watching Nicholas on his balcony. He wore only athletic shorts on a long, lean body. She’d seen him running through the grounds both early in the morning and sometimes late at night. He had a runner’s body, muscular but not bulky, and whenever she’d glimpsed him (okay, she’d out and out gawked for as long as he was in view), she’d fantasized about running her hands over those muscles.
    Hm. Curious. He tied a bandana around his head to cover his eyes. Talk about erotic connotations. He walked to the stone railing and threw what looked like a small red ball. It sailed through the air and landed somewhere in the southwest quadrant of the maze. The maze was designed by a puzzle maker and was one of the most difficult in the world, something her grandfather had told everyone with pride.
    But Nicholas was the most puzzling of anything she’d ever encountered (and she had gotten lost in that damned maze many times, so that was saying something). With the blindfold still on, he braced his hands on the balcony and launched himself over, dropping to the ground with the grace of a cat. He ran straight to the maze’s entrance and disappeared from view.
    She felt someone walk into the room but was too entranced to turn and see who it was. Nicholas’s shock of dark hair appeared momentarily around a bend, then disappeared again. She glanced over to see who now stood beside her: Jerryl, who was also watching. His ultrashort hair and feral eyes fit his military bearing and attitude, but he seemed to have something to prove.
    She turned back to the maze in time to see Nicholas emerge, racing toward the building, blindly but unerringly pulling himself up the molding and climbing back onto his balcony. He held the ball in his hand, which he dropped as he stripped off the blindfold.
    â€œDamned show-off,” Jerryl muttered.
    â€œIs it showing off if he doesn’t know anyone’s watching?”
    Jerryl only grunted as he turned to leave. Her mouth twitched in a smile.
    She knew Nicholas was scheduled to start working at ten, and it was now nine. She went downstairs and used the kitchen phone to call his room. She hated to admit it, but her father was right; she felt a hitch in her breath when he answered.
    â€œGood morning, it’s Olivia. Could you meet me in the kitchen in about fifteen minutes?”
    After a pause, he said, “Sure. Be right there.”
    She felt that hitch again when he walked into the kitchen twelve minutes later, wearing a Polo-style shirt that stretched across his wide chest. His dark brown hair was damp and combed into submission. Usually, it looked delightfully mussed. With his soulful brown eyes and slight pout to his mouth, he reminded her of pictures she’d seen of Elvis in his youth. The smell of soap filled her senses.
    â€œHey, what’s up?”
    She lifted a finger to indicate he wait and slipped behind the tall metal shelves. She lit two candles on the small pyramid of cake she’d managed to salvage andwalked around the corner. “Happy birthday to you…” She didn’t go on because she couldn’t sing worth a damn and wasn’t going to embarrass