He gave her a wry smile. “You got it. Thanks.” He slipped the card into his shirt pocket. “I will call.” He pulled her close to him for one last searing kiss, then got out of the truck and came around to open her door.
"Hurry back,” he whispered in her ear, then claimed her lips one more time.
Chapter Seven
"You hardly said a word Sunday, then just jumped in your car and left. Did you and Morgan have a fight or something?"
Allison shifted her cell phone to her other ear and picked up her iced tea. The building where she worked had an outdoor patio with tables and chairs, a good place to get away from things when the office closed in. She'd taken her tuna sandwich and cold drink and found a place in a corner of the courtyard, shielded from everyone else by the huge umbrella on the table. But her conversation with her friend was diminishing her appetite. She did not want to talk about Morgan.
Even over the staticky cell phone reception, Allison could hear the worry in Paige's voice. Her friend was right. She'd had little to say when she got up Sunday morning, but that was because she was holding the memory of the previous night so close she didn't want anything to disturb it. Her body still tingled from his touch. She could still feel the touch of his lips on her mouth and her breasts, his clever fingers sliding into her heat and driving her to orgasm. She was stunned at how quickly the fire had erupted between them, consuming them with unexpected speed.
Did Morgan regret any of it? He'd been an unselfish lover, something she was definitely not used to. What would he think of her because she'd taken so easily from him without giving anything back? Would he chalk it up to something 'city girls' expected? Would he regret all of it? Any of it? Was he sorry he'd told her about his marriage? God, she hoped not. She was probably the first person he'd unburdened himself to since the Amber debacle, and it emphasized the fact that something was definitely happening with them.
The hardest thing for her to get her mind around was that between teasing him on the ride to San Antonio and practically throwing herself at him in the truck, she'd fallen in love with him. Just that quick. A man with a wounded heart and a bruised ego. Hardly a winning combination.
"Allison?” Paige raised her voice. “Are you still there?"
"What?” Allison mentally shook herself. “Yes, I'm here. And I'll definitely be there tomorrow night before dinner."
"That wasn't what I asked.” A pause drifted over the connection. “Did you and Morgan have another fight?"
"No. No, we didn't fight at all. Everything's fine."
"Listen, kiddo, I've known you too long. Something's going on."
Allison swallowed a sigh. “I told you. We're great."
"Allie.” Paige's voice was very firm. “I told you Morgan has some issues..."
"Oh, he told me all about Amber,” Allison interrupted, pulling at the bread on her sandwich.
"He told you?” Paige sounded shocked.
"Uh huh. He said he wanted me to know why he's—the way he is sometimes."
"He never talks about it to anyone. Not even Ryan."
"Listen, Paige.” Allison shifted in her chair and pulled a bite-size piece from the sandwich. “Let it go for now, okay? Morgan and I are adults. I don't know where this is going any more than he does. Or if it's going. But let us figure it out, will you?"
Paige hesitated. Then she sighed. “All right. I'll back off, but I'm always here to talk to."
"Thanks. And—ask Ryan not to bug his brother about it, okay?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Allison could hear the smile in Paige's voice. “Okay. Thank you. And tomorrow night I'll bring out the stuff from the wedding planner. The favors and cake boxes and the other things you ordered."
"Thanks. Ordinarily Mom would pick them up for me, but she's in a dither getting the house sold and everything packed up."
"No problem. Do you want me to swing by and get the stuff out of your bedroom?"
Between settling in at the ranch and planning the wedding, Paige had not been back to San Antonio since the day of what everyone was calling “The Big Kiss and Makeup.” Although Georgia Cavanaugh had packed two huge suitcases for her daughter and hidden them in her car, there were a lot of things Paige still needed.
"No, thanks anyway. Mom and Dad are coming out Thursday night and they'll bring what I need."
""See you tomorrow, then."
And Morgan? Would she see him? Although she'd given him her cell number, she hadn't heard word one from him since he'd driven away from the ranch. She was chewing on a piece of her tuna sandwich and wondering if they were back to square one again when the phone rang. She looked at the number on the readout and her heart did a tiny flip. White Tail. She'd just talked to Paige so it wasn't her.
"Hello?"
"Did I get you in the middle of something?"
The deep voice immediately sent shivers through her body. A wide smile spread across her face. “Just choking down a stale sandwich and watery iced tea."
Morgan laughed. “That must be some restaurant you eat at."
"It's close and it's cheap. Quality's an extra charge.” She paused while she figured out how to word her next sentence. “I was hoping you'd call.” Okay, positive but not pushy.
"I got tied up with something yesterday or I would have."
"Don't tell me White Tail has crime on a Sunday. I thought it was against the law."
"More public relations. King Donovan wanted a report on the body we found on his ranch, and he wanted it in person. He's been good to the community and now his health is failing, so I took a run out to his place. Ended up staying longer than I expected to."
"Donovan? Wasn't that his son I met at the gas station?"
"Yes. Tate."
Allison grinned. She could almost see Morgan's face tighten up. “That's some pick up line he's got,” she teased, then regretted it at once.
But Morgan didn't jump at her. “Just as long as he uses it on someone else,” was all he said. “I called because Ryan mentioned you were coming back to town tomorrow night. That right?"
"Yes. I'm picking up some things for the wedding."
Silence. She could almost hear Morgan's brain clicking its gears.
"I don't think we'll be able to steal too much time together, but I thought maybe you'd like to go riding tomorrow evening.” More silence. “I guess I should have asked. You do ride, don't you?"
Allison laughed. “Yes, and I guess it's a good thing, right?"
"Yes. A very good thing.” More silence. “Amber didn't ride, in case you're interested."
She sucked up the last of the iced tea through the straw. “Actually, Morgan, I think what I'm interested in is you and me. I've ridden off and on for years, and I think I still remember how to stay on a horse."
The sigh of relief came through clearly. “Good, because I'm going to ask Paige if you can borrow Bluebonnet. It's her horse and she's nice and gentle. I thought ... that is ... I mean, if it's all right with you..."
"Whatever you want to do is fine. Just name it."
"We won't have a lot of time what with you helping Paige with the wedding and me hog-tied with this dead body. I thought we could take a ride out to the creek on the ranch and have a picnic supper. I know it's not very fancy..."
"Stop it.” Her voice was sharper than she intended but she was getting annoyed. “I'm not a princess in an ivory tower who has to be waited on by servants and can only eat in five star restaurants. I love picnics. I've been on a million of them. I don't care if we have bologna sandwiches and Dr. Pepper. Whatever you plan is fine."
"Well, good. Okay. Very good."
"By the way, what's happening with your dead body?"
"Nothing, and that's the problem. We haven't had a nibble on the picture we've been circulating. With no fingerprints we can't run him through any of the systems. Right now we've got him in cold storage at the funeral home until we can dig something up."
"Who on earth would dump a body in White Tail?"
"Whe
n you find an answer to that question, darlin', be sure to let me know. I'll see you tomorrow night then?"
"Yes. I'll call you when I leave the city so you can pretty much guess when I'll get there."
"See you then."
And he was gone.
Allison stared at the phone in her hand. When she tried to look at herself through Morgan's eyes, she wasn't sure she liked what she saw. BWT—Before White Tail—she'd thought her life was pretty great. Plenty of parties, plenty of escorts, plenty of A-List events. Lunches and dinners on the Riverwalk. But looking at it from a different angle, she realized what she'd built was a façade. Without the right person, none if it meant very much.
She wondered if Morgan would ever consider coming back to San Antonio?
First things first, kiddo. You haven't even had a second date.
* * * *
If Allison had looked across the courtyard from where she was sitting to the other side of the street, she would have seen a black Lincoln Town Car inch its way to the curb, and a tall, lean man with dark hair in a black suit climb into the back seat.
Luis Obradors was beginning to hate the daily rides in this car as much as the almost hourly calls from Emilio Escalante. He cursed the damned woman and the idiots who had dumped the body with every breath. What a mess this was. He should have handled everything himself. Then he wouldn't be in the position of making excuses to the only man he feared.
"So, Luis.” Escalante studied him with hooded eyes. “I can't seem to get a satisfactory answer over the telephone. I thought a little face to face might inspire you."
"Believe me, jefe, I am inspired.” Luis was consumed with a desire to loosen his collar but forced himself to sit still. It didn't do to let the old man see he made you sweat.
"With all the resources I put at your disposal, why is it so hard to find this one female?"
"She's clever, jefe. Very clever."
Escalante grunted. “So I'm aware."
"We believe we've had a sighting, however."
"A sighting.” The old man's voice was like a sheet of ice. “Sightings don't do me much good."
"But it gives us a clue to her location. Even now I have two men on the way to El Paso with instructions to bring her back at once."
"El Paso.” Escalante studied the glass of Perrier water in his hand. “I have a hard time believing she would take refuge so close to the border."
"Maybe that's why she did it. Because we wouldn't look for her there."
Escalante shook his head. “You have to know how she thinks, and unfortunately I've become an expert on that. I don't believe she's in El Paso, but I'm confident she'll surface in the place we first expected. Be prepared."
"But..."
"You're in no position to argue with me, Luis. Your men botched this assignment from beginning to end. If I don't get my money back, I will hold you personally responsible."
Luis felt his stomach heave. His life span was grower shorter by the day.
"We'll keep a careful eye out,” he promised.
"Don't be stupid again. Do this yourself, and be careful not to arouse suspicion. I know small towns. Everything is everyone's business."
"So how do you suggest I keep an eye on things?"
"If you like breathing, Luis, I'm sure you'll find a way."
He knocked on the diving glass and the car pulled into the curb.
Luis watched it pull away, knowing his margin for error had just shrunk to zero.
* * * *
"You look like you need more than a cup of coffee, Morgan."
Donna Young stood beside the booth in the D&D, the ever-present coffee carafe in her hand, eyeing the man sprawled on one of the bench seats.
Morgan took off his Stetson and placed it next to him on the seat. “I think a new brain would be the optimum thing.” His tone was filled with disgust.
"Gotta be the dead body. There's nothing else going on here that would cost anyone a drop of sweat."
"Bingo. But this one's enough to drive me over the edge."
Donna slid into the booth opposite him. It was the middle of the afternoon and the restaurant was almost empty. “Still no idea who he is?"
"Not a clue. We sent out a fax to every police department in Texas with no results so far."
"Maybe he's not from Texas."
Morgan took a swallow of the hot coffee. “Possible, but I hope that's not the case. Damn those people anyway. Cutting off his hands bought them a lot of time.” He sighed. “Well, we shipped him off to Austin. Good riddance. They said they'll see what they can do. All we've really got to use is the teeth, but without a place to start...” He shrugged.
"I heard the press was chasing you the other day."
He groaned. “Lord, getting them out of town was no picnic. They must have found out from one of the police departments we faxed to. Although these people could sniff out a stink a mile under the ground."
"Well, you'll find out who he is sooner or later. Tate Donovan must be spitting fire that they dumped the body on The Yellow Rose."
"Luckily he's taking the whole thing as a big joke. Too bad I can't do that. Life would be a lot easier. And this was supposed to be a nice easy job.” He grinned but without much humor. “You don't happen to have a leftover cinnamon roll hanging around, do you?"
Derek Young did all the cooking and baking. Customers swore his pastries—especially his cinnamon rolls—beat anything they could get in the city.
"I have one I saved in the back, but I'll heat it up for you if you tell me how you're getting along with Paige's friend."
Morgan's lips set in a thin line. “Donna..."
"I know, I know.” She stood up and headed for the back of the restaurant. “But I know she was here for the weekend and you took her to The Cattle Company for dinner."
"Did The Ledger put out a special edition or something? I must have missed it."
"My folks were there for dinner and saw you,” she called from the back. “Listen, Chief, you'd have to go to Arizona to get out of the White Tail radar range."
"Don't remind me."
"So, doesn't an old friend deserve the scoop?"
"An old friend needs to remember to mind her business. I don't know where it's going, and I'm damn sure not opening myself up to public dissection like the last time. When there's something to say, I'll come in here and make an announcement."
"My customers will surely appreciate that. Here.” She put a plate with a hot pastry in front of him. “Maybe this will sweeten your disposition."
But it wasn't just his disposition that was out of kilter. Since Saturday night he'd been in steady conflict with himself. Allison Moore had turned out to be pure liquid dynamite.
The dinner invitation had been prompted by an unreasonably jealous reaction to her casual meeting with Tate Donovan. He'd gone expecting to grit his teeth just to get through the evening.
But Allie had surprised him. She was warm, had a great sense of humor, and she'd seemed to genuinely enjoy herself. She had none of the artifice he'd come to expect in women like her.
Women like her? Did he even know what he meant by that any more?
And then, in the truck ... Sweet Jesus! He'd been like a horny teenager. He still couldn't believe how he'd been all over her. But she hadn't pushed him away. Unlike Amber, who had always seemed to be conscious of disturbing her hair or makeup, Allison threw herself into sex without restraint. Bringing her to orgasm and watching her uninhibited response had been one of the greatest pleasures of his life.
He dreamed about that interlude for two nights now. He'd put off calling her afraid she might have had a change of heart and decided not to see him again. But when he did call, she sounded as eager as he was. Tomorrow they'd see each other again.
And once they got this damn wedding out of the way, maybe they'd have a chance to see if there was anything to this relationship at all.
Chapter Eight
The horse looked a lot bigger than Allison remembere
d when John Howell, the Circle C foreman, led her out into the yard.
"Don't I need a step stool?” she asked Morgan, eyeing the whole project with suspicion.
Everyone laughed.
"Not a problem, darlin',” Morgan told her. He made a step for her with his hands and lifted her up into the saddle. He checked her stirrups and the saddle cinch, then swung up onto his own horse.
"He's gorgeous,” Allison told him, sweeping admiring eyes over the magnificent roan stallion. “What's his name?"
"Conquistador. The conqueror."
"Well, let's hope he and Bluebonnet get along all right."
"No sweat. Just follow me.” He reached down and took the canvas picnic bag from Paige, then urged the stallion forward. “We're not going far. Just work on keeping up."
"Maybe this isn't such a good idea.” Allison looked at Paige and Ryan, grinning up at her.
"Better get moving,” Ryan chuckled. “Don't want to get left behind and have Morgan eat all that good food."
Then Bluebonnet saw the horse in front of her move out in an easy lope and began to follow along.
"See you later,” she yelled, as the horse broke into a slow canter.
Once she got used to the jouncing and remembered how to adjust her body to the rhythm of the horse, Allison settled down to enjoy the ride. They passed the barns, John Howell's house and the bunkhouse, and a corral where half a dozen horses were ambling aimlessly. Acres of meadows and pastureland rolled away as far as the eye could see. Wire fencing stretched away from the open section they rode through, with fat brown Santa Gertrudi cattle chomping peacefully away or just staring at the riders with mild curiosity.
This was definitely a part of Texas Allison had never seen. Yet most of the land mass in the state was devoted to ranching and farming, and this was the panorama people thought of whenever the state was mentioned. She thought of Ryan, a well-respected attorney as well as a rancher. And Donna and Derek, who made the D&D the focal point of White Tail. And the verbal pictures Paige had painted of the town, its population and why she loved it so much. And she thought of herself, loving Paige like a sister but wondering how she could make up her mind to bury herself at the ass end of the earth. She'd thought the woman crazy.
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