Navy SEAL's Deadly Secret (Runaway Ranch Book 1)

by Cindy Dees

  It wasn’t until he’d stepped into the cabin that he looked at Anna cowering just inside the door and asked harshly, “What did Jimbo do that scared you so badly?”

  “Uh, nothing. He just came up behind me and startled me.”

  She was lying.

  “Anna, I’m trained to observe how people answer questions, their conscious and unconscious body language signals, the words they choose, inflections in their voices. I’m told it makes me a pain in the ass to be around, and multiple women have assured me it makes me impossible to have a relationship with.”

  She stared at him a long time. Eventually, she mumbled, “Oh.”

  “Let’s try that again. What did Jimmy do that scared you so bad? You looked ready to faint.”

  “He really did startle me.”

  Okay, that was truth, but not the whole truth. “And?” he prompted gently.

  She sighed. “And he doesn’t like me.”

  “It looked to me like he hates your guts. Enough to harm you,” Brett commented.

  “You wouldn’t be wrong.”

  Brett stared at her. He hadn’t been expecting her to say that. “Why?”

  “He blames me for Eddie’s death.”

  “Eddie’s dead?” Brett exclaimed.

  Anna’s entire face became a mask of—something. Not grief exactly. Horrible memories, maybe. Her shoulders slumped, and tears slipped down her face.

  Aw, hell. Not tears. They were kryptonite to him. He took the two strides that brought him to her and gathered her into his arms.

  She burrowed against his chest as if in search of comfort. Or maybe hiding from something. God, she was hard to read. It felt strange to be cried on like this. It had been a long time since a woman had looked to him for any kind of solace. He wasn’t exactly a comforting kind of guy. His life had made him hard. Calculating. He’d long ago locked away anything resembling real feelings and thrown away the key. Feelings were weaknesses in his line of work.

  Anna’s shoulders shook as she cried silently against his chest. But then she took several deep breaths and her spine stiffened as she tangibly pulled herself together. He let her go when she stepped away from him, but his arms felt strangely empty without her warmth and softness in them.

  Whoa. He didn’t actually like holding a crying female, did he? Surely not.

  He tore a paper towel off the roll on his kitchen counter. It was as close as he came to a tissue in his Spartan cabin.

  She mopped her face and he took the crumpled paper towel silently, tossing it into the trash can beside the kitchen sink. While he was there, he filled a glass of water and carried it over to her.

  Anna smiled wetly at the proffered water. As she took it, she murmured, “The first thing I learned as a babysitter is that a kid can’t cry and drink water at the same time.”

  He sat down cautiously on the sofa beside her, studying her face. She seemed calmer now. Apparently, her cry had been cathartic.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she mumbled. “He took me by surprise. I didn’t know he would be there, today.”

  “Why doesn’t Jimbo like you?”

  “He and his family blame me for Eddie not succeeding in Hollywood.”

  Brett frowned. “How could you torpedo his career? You didn’t call Hollywood producers and spread lies about him, did you?”

  She sighed. “He failed because he was lazy and spoiled. He thought that because he was handsome, fame and fortune would fall into his lap. Honestly, he just wasn’t that good an actor.”

  “Why does Jimbo blame you, then?”

  Her face closed down like Fort Knox locking its vaults against an attempted theft. Dammit, he’d stepped into another minefield. He was trying to make things better, not worse! Tears began to flow again, and he scooted over and gathered her into his arms.

  Desperation began to build in his chest as she continued to cry silently. She made no sound at all. It was as if she was holding everything inside so tightly that only her tears were able to escape the stranglehold she had on her emotions.

  Military shrinks hadn’t been bombarding him for the last few months for nothing. He might not know much, but he did know that suppressing everything was bad. Really bad. He didn’t stop to think about it. He just did the only thing he could think of to get her to let go of that brutally tight control. He kissed her.

  It was a dumb idea. But then her sweet, soft lips touched his, and all thoughts of being an amateur psychologist fled his mind. He didn’t move. Didn’t want to frighten her. His lips caressed hers lightly, a simple brush of warmth. An invitation, nothing more. His body was available to her if she wanted it.

  Anna hesitated for a moment, and then it was as if a dam broke and a wall of emotions burst out of her. She surged upward in his embrace, her arms going around his neck, and holy cow, did she ever accept his invitation. She kissed him desperately. Her mouth was awkward against his, but he didn’t mind. He tilted his head a little to better align their mouths, and he opened for her eager little tongue, which darted across his lips skittishly.

  He returned the favor slowly and thoroughly, tasting her warmth, sipping at the sweet barbecue taste lingering like a savory treat. His tongue moved easily into her mouth, and she met him there tentatively. As tempted as he was to devour her, he held back, letting her set the pace.

  She kissed him with her whole body, her hips surging against his belly, her small, resilient breasts pressing against his chest. Her arms tightened around his neck, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline to something precious that she’d lost and only just now found.

  He knew the feeling. How long had it been since he’d held the warmth of a woman in his arms, felt her curves against his body, savored the excited passion of a first kiss? His brain was so befuddled with the reality of this woman in his arms he couldn’t summon any memory at all of any previous women.

  Anna’s hands started to fumble at his shirt buttons, and cold reality intruded upon his fog of delight. “Um, Anna?” he mumbled against her mouth.

  “Huh?” she panted. Her lips slid across his jaw and she kissed his neck, nipping at his shoulder as she pushed the collar of his shirt aside.

  Sweet baby Jesus. His groin reacted so violently he groaned aloud. “We’ve got all the time in the world, darlin’. And I don’t want to be accused of taking advantage of you in the first rush of pleasure.”

  “So what do you want to do?” she mumbled against his neck. “Stop kissing and read the telephone book until I have second thoughts?”

  He laughed reluctantly. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re incredibly attractive. And I’m incredibly interested. But you’ve had a shock. You’re upset. I don’t want to be the schmuck who took advantage of you in a vulnerable emotional place.”

  “Got it. Now kiss me.”

  Her abrupt capitulation was giving him mental whiplash. “Are you sure you want this? You’ve seemed...reluctant...in the past.”

  “I’m not dead yet,” she mumbled.

  He turned over possible contexts for that comment. She’d felt dead before, maybe? Or passion had only recently woken within her? Or maybe she just didn’t want to let this chance pass her by before she died—

  “Please, Brett. For once I’m not overthinking this.”

  Well, okay, then. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  He turned her in his arms, pressing her down into the crappy cushions. If she wanted to kiss, then by golly, kiss her he would. He took control of things then, cupping her head in his hand as he made slow, sweet love to her mouth.

  His tongue plunged into her dark warmth, withdrew, then stroked its way home again. Her tongue darted all around his, teasing and testing, tasting and tantalizing. He sucked, drawing her tongue into his mouth, stroking the underside of it with his tongue, drawing her tongue across the sharpness of his teeth by way of contrast.
Their mouths fit together perfectly, and it made him think of more carnal pairings. Yup. She would fit him in bed, too.

  She was eager and athletic, but still all woman. Just the way he liked his partners in love. She went for the buttons on his shirt again, and this time he let her undo them and push the soft flannel aside.

  “Oh my,” she sighed as her palms slid across his chest. Her fingers slipped through the dark hair there, and his pectoral muscles jumped spasmodically. Wow, that felt good. He’d had no idea how much he missed this skin-to-skin human contact. No wonder his shrink told him a while back that he seriously needed to get laid. And here he thought the guy had been referring to how surly a patient he was. Sorry, Doc.

  Anna moved restlessly beneath him and one of her legs came up to wrap around his thighs, her foot tucking up under his butt cheek in the most suggestive fashion. Her entire body undulated against his, seeking. Wanting. As if she hadn’t experienced pleasure like this in a very long time.

  He’d meant what he said before, though. He wasn’t going to take advantage of her being upset to get her in the sack. As horny and uncomfortable as he was, he was a better man than this. Or at least he ought to be a better man than this.

  Cursing at himself, he pushed away from her, sitting upright on the edge of the couch while her body spooned around his, kitten-like.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked in a small, hurt voice. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “What?” He stared down at her. “No! Hell no!”

  “Then why did you stop?”

  “Because I’m trying not to be a giant jerk. I refuse to take advantage of you.”

  “Oh.” She sounded disappointed. Preach, sister. His woody was complaining in the most strident of terms about this whole be-a-gentleman thing being total crap.

  He stared down at her, supremely frustrated. She was eager and willing. And he wanted her so bad his body was cramping with desire.

  But dammit, he genuinely liked her.

  He was not going to be a colossal asshole and have cheap sex with her. This was supposed to be a new chapter in his life. All the shrinks said so. Although, to be honest, he was really looking for an ending he could be okay with.

  The thought made him go perfectly still. Had he really been that lost in despair?

  All the more reason why he shouldn’t just tumble into the sack with this woman. She had baggage of her own, obviously. He didn’t need to add to it.

  Reggie shifted on his bed, and Brett smiled fondly at the dog. He couldn’t seriously consider checking out with Reggie to look after. If not him, who would feed the dog and take him out for the painfully slow walks Reg loved so much? He wasn’t like other dogs. Couldn’t romp and jump and run, but his mind was still willing. He wanted to wrestle and play. It took a special kind of gentle to make Reggie feel like a real dog without hurting him. Until Reggie crossed the rainbow bridge, he was stuck here on Earth, too. Hell would have to wait.

  Nope. No one else would take care of the mangy mutt properly. Not after the silly, heroic dog jumped in front of Brett to protect him and nearly lost his life—but saved Brett’s.

  From the same IED that did kill his men.

  Had it not been for that one bark of warning Reggie’d managed to get out before the bomb blew, that instant of jumping in front of Brett and pushing him back by leaning on his thighs—

  —They said close counted only in horseshoes and hand grenades. Turned out they were right. He’d moved back just far enough to make the difference. He’d lived. His guys had not. The simple, brutal luck of the draw in war.

  Speaking of Reggie, the dog must’ve sensed Brett thinking about him, for he slowly climbed to his feet and stepped off his soft dog bed. Brett watched fondly as the dog limped over to him and nudged his hand. Saved by the dog.

  Aloud, Brett said, “I gotta take Reggie out. I’ll be back in a few.”

  He didn’t look back at Anna as he shrugged into his heavy sheepskin coat and ducked outside. Twilight lay upon the land, all the colors leeched away by encroaching night. The entire valley was a study in shadows and contrasts. Grays and blacks, devoid of vibrancy. He’d always hated this time of day. And now it was a perfect metaphor for his life.

  Reggie moved over to his favorite spot to take a dump and did so in a leisurely fashion. Brett grinned fondly at the old guy. Even taking a squat made Reggie smile over his shoulder at Brett.

  Reggie trotted over to him with his stilted gait and leaned against his leg. The two of them watched the last of the light fade. The clouds were low and pregnant tonight, heavy with moisture.

  There would be snow, and plenty of it before morning. The cold was deep and still, but the air was damp against his face. Soon now, the snow would start. Brett felt it in his bones. He’d been away from home so long he’d forgotten how a rancher felt the rhythms of the land and the seasons and the weather like this.

  Hell, he’d run away from all of this as fast as he could when he’d turned eighteen.

  The cabin door opened behind him and a band of golden light spilled out onto the ground.

  “You done, Reggie?” he asked aloud for Anna’s benefit behind him.

  A big wag of a bushy tail and a toothy smile were his answer.

  “All right, then. I’ve got a lamb bone in the freezer for you.”

  The dog heard the word bone and made a Reggie-speed beeline for the house. The dog pushed past Anna before she could get out of his way, and Brett followed more slowly.

  “Wanna give Reggie a treat and become his favorite person in the whole world?” he asked Anna.

  “Sure.”

  “In the freezer door. There’s a bag of bones.”

  While Anna fetched a bone, he knelt in front of the stove and loaded it up with split wood from the big pile beside the hearth. This cabin was ugly, but it was tight and cozy. If the stove got ahead of the storm now, the place would stay reasonably warm through the night.

  Reggie had just settled in his bed for a nice, long gnaw when the windows rattled suddenly. Anna looked up in alarm.

  “The gust front is here,” Brett commented.

  “There’s a storm coming?” Anna asked quickly. “I should get down the mountain and back to my place!”

  Brett moved over to the front window to peer out. “Too late. Storm’s here.”

  Anna made a sound of dismay.

  “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  She stared at him quizzically. “Why would you say something like that?”

  “Well, uh, today. My outburst. And after I took down that guy in the diner...” He paused, drew a deep breath and barged onward, “I thought you might be afraid of me.”

  “Should I be afraid of you?” She asked the question calmly enough. She didn’t sound scared of him. He wasn’t sure if that made her brave or stupid.

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Liar. “I have control of myself.” Maybe. “I do have some unfortunate reflexes left over from living in combat zones for the past decade. But I’m told those reflexes will dull over time and maybe even fade away.” And that was the biggest lie of all. He’d been more on edge since he’d gotten home than he’d ever been overseas. His temper had a hair trigger, and he couldn’t seem to rein it in.

  “I’d hardly call your reflexes unfortunate if they kept you alive,” she replied.

  He blinked, startled. “That’s what I told the shrinks!”

  She shrugged. “See? You’re acting perfectly reasonably. There’s not a thing to be afraid of with you. As long as I don’t try to kill you and trigger any self-defense reflexes in you, we’ll be fine.”

  It sounded so easy when she put it like that. Almost doable, even. Was it possible that he could truly find his way back to a normal life?

  Chapter 8

  Anna studied Brett as the flickering glow from the stove lit his face i
n harsh planes and angles. He did, indeed, look dangerous. Honed by violence. But she knew crazy, and he was not it. In pain? Yes. Crazy? No.

  He seemed afraid of himself, which she couldn’t understand. Of course, he’d taken down the punk in the diner. The kid was armed and threatening her. Any sane man with an ounce of training and courage would have done the same. As for Jimbo this afternoon, Brett had not read the situation incorrectly. She’d been scared silly, and it was entirely possible that Jimbo would have dragged her outside and choked her to death had Brett not intervened.

  She strolled over to the cabin’s front window to peer out. In the warm light passing out through the glass into the cold night, great flakes of snow the size of silver dollars were falling so thick and fast she could barely make out Brett’s truck only a dozen yards from the window. “You weren’t kidding when you said the storm’s here,” she exclaimed. “I may be stuck here overnight.”

  He gave her a “well, duh” look, and then grinned as if he was pleased by this development.

  Huh. He’d struck her as a hard-core loner, maybe even a bit antisocial the first time she’d come up here to return his necklace. But the man currently at the kitchen counter emptying a pouch of frozen vegetables and pasta into a skillet was open and relaxed. Maybe that kiss had been as therapeutic for him as it had been for her.

  Brett was the first man she’d kissed since Eddie. Not that she had voluntarily kissed Eddie for a long time before his death. He was mean when he was drunk, and the last few years he was drunk pretty much all the time.

  She’d forgotten how fantastic it could be to kiss a man without fear and to be kissed back with respect. Something inside her had broken free of wherever it had been hiding, and it felt good. Really good. Maybe she wasn’t as damaged as she thought she was. Given that she hadn’t been the least bit attracted to a man since Eddie died, she’d figured that her interest in men had been permanently burned out of her. But maybe not.

  She was eager to see how much further her renewed interest in men extended. Of course, she couldn’t possibly ask Brett to indulge in such an exploration. Hey, Brett. I wanna find out how close to having sex I can go without freaking out. I want you to seduce me, and then be prepared to stop on a dime when I say so. Right. Like any man would agree to that.