A label stitched into a fur coat was her only clue to her true identity, but the name "Roseanne" meant nothing to her. She knew that a bullet had grazed her skull, robbing her of her memory and plunging her into a nightmare existence lived on the run.
And the one man who could help her--a lone wolf wrapped in his own aura of mystery--was convinced she had done murder...
Gates MacAlister knew her type: rich girl used to getting what she wanted. But the copper-haired beauty the Bureau claimed was his quarry didn't act like an upper-crust princess. Hardly self-absorbed, she was concerned about him, a hard-nosed ex-agent hungry for revenge--and the new appetites she stirred within him...
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