by Lora Leigh
He’d watch the impalement, he decided. He’d spread the cheeks of her ass apart and watch as his heavily lubricated dick worked its way inside her.
Once buried to his balls inside her anus, there would be no stopping him. Her sensual submission would be like an aphrodisiac, powering his arousal.
“Archer, have you—”
His eyes jerked open, his head turning to stare at her in frustrated shock as she stood, still and silent, in the bathroom doorway.
The accusation in her gaze was almost more than he could stand.
“I’m sorry.” She backed up, reentered the bathroom, her face pale, her green eyes moist with tears. “I’m really sorry.”
The door slammed closed, then locked behind her a second later. And there Archer laid, his dick still clenched between his fingers, the sheet covering him now slick and wet with his seed where he’d spilled his release the second he saw her.
So much for self-control.
One look at her— It had taken just the sight of her in that sexy gown to steal his will and send his release spurting onto the sheets.
And if the look on her face was any indication, she felt nothing less than betrayed.
“Fuck!” Rising from the bed, Archer flipped the blankets from his body, rose from the bed, and stalked from the bedroom to the guest room shower.
He wasn’t going to survive this.
It had been only three days since he’d had her. Three miserably, painfully aroused days, and he didn’t know how much more he could stand.
And he had a feeling one more night of it might make him insane.
He didn’t have to actually fuck her, he thought to himself. He could bring her to her release with his lips and tongue—
The doctor had made the “no exertion” thing clear. Hell, if he got her off, those sweet little thighs were going to grip his head, tighten, and the stitches the plastic surgeon had placed so carefully could stretch or tear, leaving a scar she might eventually hate him for.
He knew women in some things. A scar could completely change her entire perception of herself. Hell, she might never wear a bikini again. And he knew for damned sure just how good she looked in a bikini.
Stepping beneath the icy spray of the shower, he wondered if a man could actually die from arousal.
*
The ranch the Callahans had set up as a base of operations, and for Ivan Resnova to oversee the safety and security of Rafer and Logan Callahan’s fiancées, was the same ranch the Callahan cousins had been raised on after their parents’ deaths.
Previously, the Triple R, or Ramsey Ranch, had belonged to Clyde Ramsey, Rafer’s great-uncle on his mother’s side. Had it not been for Clyde, Anna knew, the three boys would have ended up in foster homes, and only God knew what would have happened to them.
Even so, their lives had been hard enough as Clyde fought to deflect the often cruel barbs that had come not just from kids their own age, but also adults. Add that to the twenty-year court battle to keep the inheritances their mothers had left them, and it had made some years pure hell for the cousins.
Despite the Barons’ attempts, or that shadowed he who had attempted to destroy them for most of their lives, and the cruelties of the fine, upstanding, God-fearing citizens of Corbin County, the Callahan cousins had still managed to turn out pretty decent.
They were hard, though Rafer and Logan had softened considerably since falling in love and becoming engaged. Crowe was still considered hard core, cynical and too rough around the edges. He sometimes still gave the impression that he was just looking for a fight, a means to expend the violence that three decades had built inside him.
He was a man ready to explode, and Anna had heard that comment from more than one person in the County. Most people were wary around him, and had been for some time.
As Archer turned his big black four-by-four pickup onto the ranch road, Anna narrowed her eyes and gazed at the wide valley and rising mountains. She had to admit, if what she had heard before returning to Corbin County was true, the Ramsey and former Callahan Ranch would be perfect for the rumored plans they had for it.
Gossip was running rampant on her grandfather’s ranch that the Callahans were combining the Ramsey Ranch property with the property their Callahan grandparents had owned, and were turning it into a year-round spa and resort that would also cater to scheduled wilderness-survival parties.
The cousins were partners in two related businesses that were migrating to Sweetrock, then also setting up year-round offices at the resort they were planning.
Off Road Excursions, a camping and mountain adventure store, had just filed a legal agreement with the Callahans at the courthouse last month, giving the business limited use of both properties for a period of three years, which many said substantiated the rumor.
There was also talk that Brute Force, the security company Anna had been hired to work at in Sweetrock, had signed an agreement—though this one private—for use of the land for small, private survival-training parties, but also for the guerilla warfare–type games designed to train security agents in the best possible protection of their clients.
The cousins would be crazy not to do so and take advantage of the rising tourism traffic into Colorado, but especially into Aspen and Sweetrock itself.
The mountains were a magnet for adventurers and families alike. Camping, fishing, hunting, skiing, and exclusive mountain vacation cabins were all rumored to be part of the business the Callahans were setting up.
“Is it true Crowe and his cousins are really going to set up the resort everyone’s talking about?” She turned to Archer, asking the question as curiosity ate at her.
She’d been dying to ask Crowe, but hadn’t yet found the best opportunity to approach him with the question.
Archer glanced at her in surprise. Not that she blamed him.
“You haven’t said two words to me since walking in on me earlier, and this is what you ask when you finally decide to talk?” he asked, a hint of rueful amusement playing at his lips.
Shrugging, Anna turned back to stare straight ahead. “I was just curious.”
“Why haven’t you asked Crowe?”
“Because he’s an asshole when he thinks I’m being nosy about his life,” she countered, glancing over at him once again. “And he tells me to mind my own business.”
Which drove her crazy.
Archer’s lips quirked at the admission.
“He has a thing about privacy,” he agreed.
“So are you going to answer me?” She turned and glared at him, silently demanding the answer.
Archer rubbed his nose thoughtfully. “If the Callahans were considering such a move, I bet they would have taken on silent partners,” he mused. “And if they had, there would be a silencing clause until they had everything ready to roll. Don’t you think?”
“Do they?” She frowned.
“Who the hell knows?” He shrugged. “I’m just saying, that’s probably why no one knows for sure.”
Anna’s lips twitched.
Archer could be devious; she’d known that for years. It had taken her just a moment to figure out what he was saying.
“I’m sure he would. So the very fact that no one can say for certain would basically indicate it’s pretty much a given,” she stated.
“That’s what I would assume, myself.” He nodded.
Anna stared around at the passing vista.
“They’ll make a fortune,” she breathed out. “The Callahans, as well as anyone lucky enough to be invited into the venture.”
“This is true.” The smile that shaped Archer’s lips was one of pure satisfaction. “This is true.”
The former Ramsey Ranch was incredibly beautiful, but Anna knew the Callahan property and the bordering Crowe Mountain were so breathtaking that for decades JR and Eileen Callahan had had to fend off buyers and resort investors desperate to utilize the property.
The very things that the founding “Barons” considere
d too rough and unfitting to use for ranching, made the land excellent for tourism and the horse ranch it had originally been designated for by the founding Callahan.
The hunting itself was phenomenal. Where the Rafferty, Roberts, and Corbin Ranches were mostly valley and bottomlands, the Callahan Ranch was mostly rolling hills and mountain vistas, clear streams, white-water rapids, and hidden caverns and caves where wildlife made dens and homes.
There was one small mountain lake, and another much larger one, in one of the few wide valleys the Callahan property possessed.
She was guessing Archer was one of those lucky investors.
He and the Callahans had been friends since they were boys. No matter the obstacles Archer’s father had placed between the friendships, they had not just maintained but thrived.
As the house came into view, Anna narrowed her eyes on it, remembering what it had looked like the only time she had accompanied her father when he’d had a meeting with Clyde Ramsey years before.
There had been a lot of security upgrades since she’d last seen it, though, according to gossip, most of those changes had occurred only in the past six to eight weeks.
High fences surrounded the back, with a thin sight-barrier netting stretching around and over it to allow Cami and Skye the opportunity to enjoy a newly installed pool without having to worry about the sniper who had shot and killed one of the security guards hired to protect Cami several months ago.
The fact that the security guard had taken a payoff to kill Cami himself wasn’t the point, Rafer had raged. The point was, there was a sniper out there with a bead on his fiancée.
Armed security guards now prowled not just the main ranch yard, but the mountain overlooking the ranch house, where they had turned away several hunters. Several of those security guards held the leashes of some vicious-looking trained German shepherds, as well.
“This place is starting to resemble an armed camp,” she sighed. “Skye must hate it.”
Archer glanced at her somberly. “Most of the protective additions were her idea.”
That surprised her. Skye had never cared much for armed camps, armed guards, or security strongholds. But then, love changed a person. She had not just her safety and security to think of, but also her lover’s, and their unborn child’s.
“They may have been her idea, but I know Skye, and I know she’s hating not just the necessity of it, but also the fact that this is how she’s being forced to live.”
“But she’s alive.” Archer sighed. “The fact that you survived that shooting is more a testament to your own reflexes than the shooter’s lack of skill or my ability to protect you. You could have died, Anna, or lost your leg and been paralyzed from the waist down because of that fucking bullet and the bastard who’s targeted you.”
Once again, why her?
What made her so important to a killer?
Pulling the vehicle into the graveled parking area, Archer parked and jumped out with a muttered “Stay put.”
Stay put?
She watched as he strode to her side of the truck, opened the passenger door for her, and helped her out. He’d insisted on helping her into the truck earlier, though she had been certain she could have managed with the running board on the side of the vehicle.
Swinging around, she gripped his shoulders as he clasped her hips and swung her easily to the ground.
“I could have managed,” she assured him, not certain how to take the gesture.
“I’m sure you could have.” Setting his hand at the small of her back, he placed himself carefully behind her as they made their way to the front porch.
The front door opened as they reach the last wide step.
“Oh my God, Anna.” Skye was out the door, her long red-gold hair flying around her, her eyes filled with tears and regret as she wrapped her arms around Anna for a fierce hug.
Instinctively, Anna held on to the other woman, suddenly remembering how Skye had always been into those hugs the year they had attended private school together.
Skye had been the big sister Anna had always dreamed of having. The fact that, more than a month before, Skye had also faced the killer determined to destroy the Callahans wasn’t lost on Anna. It was the reason her friend was here, on Rafer’s ranch, rather than in town.
Thank God she was here, Anna thought silently. Otherwise, Skye would have gotten involved in Anna’s problems and likely have been hurt or killed. Instead, she was safe and sound, her fiancé, Logan, watching over her and their unborn child.
“It’s so good to see you.” Skye drew back, a tear tracking down her cheek as she stared back at Anna.
Oh God, how she had missed Skye over the years. Missed her caring and warmth, her friendship. They had reconnected over the years at odd times, and Anna had been overjoyed when she’d learned Skye was living in Sweetrock.
Until she’d learned who Skye was living beside.
Until she’d learned who Skye was sleeping with.
Until she’d learned Skye was placing herself in just as much danger as Cami Flannigan had.
As the six victims of the Sweetrock Slasher had twelve years before, and the four who had died in the past six months.
She had placed herself in the path of a madman.
Just as Anna had managed to place herself there.
CHAPTER 16
Skye was outraged.
She was insanely furious.
Helping Anna into the house, she clasped the other girl’s shoulders and stared into her pain-shadowed eyes. What she saw in Anna’s face was more than physical pain. The soul-deep hurt reflected there made her want to smash faces. Old, stubborn, arrogant faces such as John Corbin’s, and younger, stupid faces such as his son Robert’s.
“What have they done to you, Anna?” She sighed as she lifted her fingers and touched Anna’s pale face.
“Completely trashed my life?” Anna suggested with a rueful smile. “It’s good to see you again, Skye. I’ve been so worried about you since the attack. Are you sure you’re okay?”
An assailant had managed to catch Crowe off guard and render him unconscious just before Logan and Skye arrived at his mountain home. The second half of the team known as the Stalker had been intent on killing her, and would have had it not been for that lone bitch wolf Crowe had raised from a cub. She’d crashed through the window, and they had thought, actually hoped, she had managed to kill the assailant. Instead, he had disappeared, his identity once again uncertain.
“I’m fine,” Skye finally assured Anna, though she wanted to wail at that painful limp and the knowledge of the wound her friend had sustained. With it, that glimmer of hurt and betrayal in Anna’s eyes broke her heart.
Skye hadn’t seen Anna as often as she had wanted to over the years, but each time she had, the other girl’s eyes had held just innocence and hope, despite the constant rejections of her family.
That innocence and hope were slowly dimming.
Anna was more reserved than she had been as a teenager, but she was still the Anna that Skye remembered, even several weeks before when they had met for lunch. This woman facing her now was little more than a lost, lonely version of the friend Skye cared so deeply for.
The most painful part was the fact that Anna probably thought she was hiding the lost loneliness inside her.
“See, we told you she was doing fine.” Jack Thompson and his wife, Jeanne, moved to them from across the room. “She’s so damned cute those bullets just couldn’t bear to be the ones to hurt her, is what it was.
Jack swept Anna up in a tight hug before smacking a kiss on her cheek and winking at her outrageously. Skye watched Archer subtly tighten.
How interesting, she thought. Archer knew well that Jack was about as happily married as a person could be—to his delicate little wife, Jeanne. The male animal subconsciously claiming Anna was a different story though. Until she was fully his, Archer didn’t want another man anywhere close to her.
God, it was so much fun watch
ing these intensely hard, totally male creatures as they fought and failed to remain distant and hard in the face of love.
“Jack, you’re outrageous.” His wife, Jeanne, laughed as he released Anna.
“Eh, you’re just jealous ’cause you want a hug too,” Jack accused her playfully.
“From her and Cami,” Jeanne declared as she glanced at Cami, who was currently being hugged by her fiancé, Rafer.
“Cami’s busy,” Rafer drawled.
“You can get a room later, you wicked man.” Jeanne laughed as she released Skye and stepped over to the couple. “For now, she owes me a hug.”
The next few minutes were taken up with greetings until the tall, black-haired, savagely handsome Ivan Resnova entered the room by the glass patio doors that led to the pool.
Behind him, a young woman, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old, glared at his back while an older woman walking next to her glanced at the teenager with a firm look.
“Ivan, stop torturing Amara and introduce her to Anna. I know she hasn’t had a chance to meet her yet.” Skye introduced them, “Anna, meet our wicked Russian busybody, Ivan’s sister, Sophia. And his daughter, whom he currently believes he can still control.” She snickered at Ivan. “Amara.”
“Sophia, Amara.” Anna shook each of their hands, impressed with their confident grips. “It’s good to meet you.”
“It’s good to finally meet the terror of the Corbin family,” Amara quipped, laughing. “Crowe makes you sound like a cross between an ogre and a troll.”
Anna turned to Crowe and lifted her brows mockingly. “I thought you already announced both of those titles were yours?”
Everyone laughed but Crowe, who glared back at Anna instead.
Anna gave a mental shrug. She was damned if she was going to kiss his ass to make him like her.
“And here I thought Daddy had possession of those titles,” Amara drawled, with only a subtle hint of her father’s Russian accent.
As she came closer, Anna amended her first guess of sixteen or seventeen. Amara Resnova was, at the very least, twenty-one, and she’d seen enough life to know, all the way to her soul, that it didn’t welcome one with open arms.