The man who'd broken into Elizabeth Hardy's Colorado house was no lost ski bum. Her intuitive powers, those unwanted gifts, were always vague, but she knew that much. Sam Oliver was tall, dark, and deadly-a liar and a trickster, and she'd finally found a man she couldn't ignore. She didn't look like a fraud and a liar, and after years in Army Intelligence Col. Sam Oliver should know. Instead Elizabeth Hardy was a pale, vulnerable-looking waif, though he didn't buy her innocent act. He'd always made it a rule to keep his hands off his targets. Some rules were made to be broken. With a young housewife missing, presumed dead, there were no simple answers to any number of questions. Why did the missing woman look exactly like the also-missing daughter of the secretary of state? Why did Elizabeth want to trust him, why did Sam suddenly want to believe in psychics? For God's sake, why couldn't they resist each other? And the biggest question of all: would they survive to find out what was going on between them?