THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

cons. Zane couldn’t buy a cup of coffee without some reporter making news out of whether he drank it alone or not.
    Everyone had expected him to sign on as a company man once he’d returned from the military. He’d surprised his extended relatives and the city when he turned his back on Texas for Florida. Ben had already met Kerry and settled here. At the time, moving Trish to Ft. Lauderdale, hanging with his best friend and flying charters seemed like a hell of a plan.
    He’d gotten busy – and successful – fast because of his willingness to fly when others wouldn’t. Then the informant gig had come along, complete with an unusually large electronic transfer from a DEA cover business into his bank account to pay off his loan on the Titan. That had been a relief for certain, but worrying about Trish and keeping up with his business were starting to wear him down.
    And he still didn’t know if he had the High Vision contract the DEA was after. He expected more tests like the CFO’s fancy dog drop. If so, those tests would have to come this weekend, during the last few days of the performance period for the bids.
    Damn. The waiting sucked up every drop of patience he possessed. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t keep his hands off of Angel – too much untapped energy.
    Liar. The truth stared him in the face, whether he wanted to put it into words or not. Just thinking about her vanishing from his life scared him to his toes.
    He was in love with her.
    For the good of his own self-respect, he’d walked away from the easy ride his parents’ money could have given him and joined the Air Force. For his sister, he’d turned his back on a career as an officer and a pilot. A job nobody walked away from willingly – at least not in one piece.
    What did he think he was going to do now?
    Chuck all his responsibilities to help a strange woman who still might be a criminal?
    No matter which way he went, he hit walls. He couldn’t risk losing the High Vision contract or the money for Trish he got from the DEA, but neither could he let Angel face a threat alone.
    He didn’t even know her whole name, where she came from, or how she’d spent her life until now.
    He didn’t know what she ate besides pizza.
    What he did know was how his insides flip flopped when she walked into a room. How she could look at him as if she believed he slayed dragons and make him want to go hunt one down for her.
    He had it bad. This had all the earmarks of a critical mission that was doomed from the start.
    A soft shuffling brought Zane from his mental meandering. Wisps of Angel’s hair floated softly about her shoulders as she settled in a chair across from him. He understood her need for distance, but ached with the desire to hold her.
    “What’s Trish’s story?” she asked quietly.
    Zane leaned forward in his chair with his hands on the patio table. For too many years to count, he’d defended Trish against his parents’ criticisms and nasty comments from relatives who didn’t understand when Trish acted out. Time and guilt had developed Zane’s hair trigger about anything regarding Trish. But Angel hadn’t accused or passed judgment. She sounded sincerely interested.
    “Trish is getting a late start in life,” Zane said. “My fault.”
    “Why is it your fault?”
    “I deserted her along with everyone else when I went in the military. I could see my parents felt burdened with an unwanted child, but I was eighteen and too caught up in what I wanted to notice the damage being done to Trish.”  Zane clenched his hand into a fist, then forced himself to relax it, spreading his fingers across the table.
    Angel leaned forward and laid her hand over his. A simple touch that said she understood while she waited for him to go on.
    “When our parents were killed, they left an inheritance with stipulations.” He didn’t give a rat’s ass about money or wills, and hated what this one had done to his sister. “Trish knows I’ll take care of her and share everything I have, but that didn’t change what they did to her.”  He hung his head, recalling the agony and the guilt for the way his parents had dealt Trish a final blow.
    “What your parents did?”
    Unwanted memories flooded back. Zane paused to consider the damage a piece of paper could inflict. “Yes. They died and then they gutted her with words – or more the lack of words. I’ll never forget her face at the reading of the will.” 
    “They left her out of