by Susan Stoker
She leaned against the edge of the porch, her adrenaline kicking up a notch at the prospect of catching a glimpse of the suspect.
But then Rook stiffened and turned toward her. “Tarah,” he muttered, his gaze alarmed and none too pleased.
She knew that look. He was going to send her inside. No way. She rushed to him in front of everyone and threw her arms around him.
“Are you okay? The noise woke me up,” she said loud enough for those close by to hear while she held his dark gaze.
“You shouldn’t be out here. It’s not safe.” He slid an arm around her waist.
She nuzzled his neck. “Safer for me than you and Remy. You two are the ones who need to be inside.”
A prickling sensation raced up her spine. The perpetrator was watching them.
He must’ve felt it too because he stiffened in her arms. “Come on. I’m taking you inside.”
She let him, glancing at the group of people who had been facing her back. Damn. There were at least a dozen. Eight men. Four women. All wearing the tactical gear and frowns.
But Tarah knew it was one of them. She could feel it in her bones.
He led her around a few pieces of debris, some still flaming, right to Burly. “Take Tarah inside.”
“No.” She grabbed his arm and turned him so he faced the crowd. Again, that strange prickling heated her back. “It’s one of the people behind me, Rook. I can feel it.”
She lifted a hand to cup his frowning face in order to keep up appearances. And because she needed to touch him. The thought of someone in that crowd wanting to harm him had her stomach in knots.
His jaw clenched under her palm. “You’re too exposed out here, Tarah. I need to get you inside.”
“Please, Rook,” she urged. “Just take a moment and look them over. And I’m not the one in danger here. You are. And Remy.”
He glanced at the crowd, then back to her. “You’re wrong. Knight hired me to keep you safe, whether it’s from the mob or some fanatic on this ranch. Now go inside with Burly.”
And before she could reply, his mouth slammed down on hers, completely sidetracking her mind. He tasted hot, and desperate, and she melted against him while he kissed her stupid. When he lifted his head, she let him lead her inside without resisting. After all, he was coming in with her and Burly too.
“Here, take this,” he said, handing her gun back. “Don’t use it unless you have to.”
After she nodded, he pivoted around and headed right back out the door.
Idiot. Didn’t he realize he was a walking target?
Chapter Seven
‡
Tarah watched Rook out the side window, wishing she could pound sense into him.
“Don’t worry about him, hun.” Burly smiled. “That boy has been taking care of himself and others ever since his dad died in the Gulf War.”
Her heart squeezed. “How old was he?”
“Eight.”
She sucked in a breath and turned to Burly. “So young.”
“Yes, but he was the man of the house then. And it was important to him to take care of his mother and younger brother.”
She nodded, totally seeing a young, proud Rook assuming that role.
“His mother brought the boys here so they could all live with her dad. And they stayed after she died. That’s when I moved in. Old Cal had needed a hand with raising the young boys.”
“How old was he when she died?”
“Ten.”
Jesus. “He lost his mom two years later?”
“Yes, and he can’t afford to lose anyone else. So, please, for Rook’s sake, stay in the house.”
She cleared her throat. “It’s not like that between us, Burly. He doesn’t care about me that way. I’m just a job. We were only pretending outside.”
“Honey, trust me. That boy was not pretending.”
Neither was she.
*
Burly’s words stayed with Tarah over the next few days, rising to the surface, haunting her at every turn. When Rook wasn’t inside protecting her, he left her with his brother while he exercised horses or whatever it was Remy used to do around the ranch before he broke his shoulder. But he didn’t bother with the facility. It was still Remy’s domain.
Every day, Tarah observed the guy teach classes and observe hands-on training in the state of the art training center while she monitored the security feed TJ had tapped into on her laptop. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened, yet.
She blinked and refocused on Rook, watching him from the window, heart in her throat, hating that he was exposed and alone out there, a perfect target for whoever was posing those threats. Threats that had mysteriously stopped.
Not good.
Her instincts screamed those threats weren’t over.
When Knight told her they’d come up empty on the list of trainees TJ got from Remy’s computer, she looked through the files and scoured the faces, only finding nine out of the dozen she’d memorized the day Remy’s truck had been bombed. She also asked for photos of the trainers and picked out the remaining three, then sent the twelve names back and told him to have Lisa dig deeper. Maiden names. Former marriages. Long lost uncles. Anything and everything. Somewhere, there was a connection to either Rook or Remy or both, and that was the person causing the trouble.
Tarah was sure of it. As sure as the gorgeous man with the black Stetson on his head, big, broad body totally at ease as he rode. Even atop a horse Rook was magnificent. Or maybe it was especially when he was atop a horse. The cowboy and SEAL had blended so much in her mind over the past week they were totally one and completely Rook.
She had to admit she liked that.
She like him.
Even though she knew it was dangerous and completely unprofessional, she missed his touch. The past few nights, it was all she could do not to open her door and invite him in.
And although he hadn’t touched or kissed her since the day he found her gun, Tarah could feel him watching, and caught him a few times, hunger heating his gaze so much she shivered.
Just thinking about it now sent goosebumps down her arms.
“Rook will be fine, Tarah. Come sit down. You’re making me nervous,” Remy said. “Besides, he’d kill me if he knew you were standing by a window.”
With one last glance at the man sitting tall in the saddle, she joined the kittens on the floor. “How do you like your rental?”
The brothers had decided to replace only one truck with a rental until the threats were neutralized.
Remy shrugged. “It’ll do for now.”
She nodded, rough-housing the little male kitten, smiling as he lunged for her hand. “Have you bothered to name these cuties yet?”
“No. Why don’t you help me?”
Surprise lifted her gaze to his. “You want me to help?”
“Yeah, sure. You seem to have a grasp for their nature.”
She laughed. “Most of what I know about cats I read online.”
Remy sat up. “Okay, well, I was thinking Yin and Yang. Frick and Frack.”
She smiled, picking the little girl up to stare into her pretty green eyes. “He wants to name you Frack, do you like that?”
The kitten meowed and squirmed.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Tarah kissed her little head and set her back on the floor.
“Moe and Curly?” Remy suggested.
Tarah snorted. “Neither suit the female.”
“Ah, we need to be gender specific.”
“Not really. It just needs to fit.” She grabbed the shoelace from the floor and swung it in the air. The kittens immediately pursued. So, she stood and swung the string higher, chuckling when the fearless kittens took flight, spring-boarding right into the air.
Remy laughed. “Oorah.”
She stopped swinging the string and snapped her fingers. “That’s it.” Tarah scooped up the kittens then handed the boy to Remy. “He’s Semper, and she is Fi.”
He cocked
his head. “Semper and Fi. I like it. But, I don’t think my Navy brother will approve.”
She lifted a shoulder. “It’s not about him. It’s about you and the kittens, Remy. You’re the one who risked his life to save them. I think it’s fitting.”
“So do I,” Rook said from behind.
She jumped, wondering how in the world he’d snuck up on her. Tarah was usually very aware of his presence. And, well, she was an agent, dammit. That shouldn’t have happened.
“You seriously don’t mind me naming them that?” Remy asked, surprise lighting his eye.
“No.” Rook shrugged. “Tarah is right. You saved them. They’re yours. Why shouldn’t you name them?”
“Okay, then I guess Semper and Fi it is.” Remy rose from the couch with a grin. “Just think of all the fun I’m going to have calling them all the time.”
Rook groaned. “Don’t make me change my mind.”
“Semper Fi. Come on, guys,” Remy called in a teasing tone. “Come on, Semper Fi. Let’s go work in the office now that the grumpy squid is in the house.”
Tarah laughed as she watched Remy corral the kittens into his office and shut the door.
Rook took off his hat and set it on a peg in the wall before he turned to face her. “Thank you.”
She blinked and stepped closer. “What for?”
“For chasing some of the shadows from my brother’s eyes,” he replied. “It’s nice to hear him laugh, and under the circumstances of what’s going on at the ranch, you are a miracle worker, Tarah.” He lifted a hand as if to touch her, then set back it down at his side.
Still no touching.
She could respect that. She was a job to him. He was a job to her.
No touching.
Too bad she really wanted to touch.
Staring into his eyes, she watched his darken and fill with the same fierce need burning in her veins.
“Rook, are you here?” Burly called from the kitchen, startling Tarah from her foggy haze. “I can’t get the damn grill started outside.”
“I’ll be right there,” he replied, holding her gaze for another beat before he nodded once and strode from the room.
Tarah inhaled a few times, talking her legs out of buckling. Damn, the connection between was getting stronger, not weaker. The no touching wasn’t helping.
The buzzer on the dryer echoed down the hall. Good. Work. She needed something to do. She headed to the laundry room and shut the door to keep the cats out in case Remy emerged from his office. Experience had taught her the kittens found the opened dryer, and its clean contents, too irresistible to ignore.
She glance around the small space. A large washer and dryer lined one wall while a utility sink and counter with a row of cabinets above lined the other. The outer wall was clear with just a window overlooking the driveway. She peered outside. Activity around the barn. No activity by the stables. All normal.
Three days ago, she’d gotten Burly to agree to let her do the laundry for the remainder of her stay. This not only kept her busy, it gave her access to everyone’s rooms, and she hoped maybe she’d find some sort of link to the brothers’ pasts that could shed some light on the case.
But, so far, the only thing she’d found was a framed photo of a beautiful brunette with warm brown eyes in Remy’s room. His late fiancée, she presumed. Nothing all that personal in Rook’s.
She ignored the relief that flooded her body and fished the last of his clothes from the dryer and set them on top while nudging the dryer door shut with her leg. The fact Rook’s dresser was photo-free didn’t mean he wasn’t seeing someone in Virginia. As soon as that thought formed, her mind vetoed it. Rook was too much of a standup guy. He’d never kiss her and touch her like he couldn’t get enough if he had a girlfriend back east.
Great. Now she couldn’t suppress the memories of those embraces. Heat flooded her belly. She closed her eyes and recalled the feel of his big, strong hands running all over her body, cupping her breasts, brushing her nipples. And his mouth. God, his mouth skimming the back of her neck, causing wicked, erotic reactions to wrack her up and down.
She snapped her eyes open and reached for the corner of the washer for support. Her legs had gone weak at the memory. Tarah eyed the dryer. She’d heard interesting stories of sitting on one and achieving an orgasm while it ran. She was certainly worked up enough for thoughts of Rook to see her through. A quick glance to the door put an end to that great idea.
No lock.
So no ride.
She folded his jeans, then set them on the counter by the rest of his folded clothes. Too amped up for her own good, she inhaled a few times and blew the breaths out slow.
Adrenaline had greeted her when she’d opened her eyes that morning. Something was stirring today.
Besides her.
Maybe it was Knight. He’d agreed that the second car bomb changed things. The brothers needed help. But he wanted her to remain undercover. So, her hands were still tied. He did promise to send another agent, as soon one was free.
She reached for another piece of clothes to fold, a shirt, and as an afterthought, brought to her nose. Washing, no doubt, had removed his scent, but she inhaled anyway.
And that’s how he found her.
“You okay?” Rook walked all the way in and shut the door.
She lowered the shirt from her heated face and nodded. “Yeah, just checking to make sure it smelled clean.”
Lordy, she was an idiot.
Tarah folded the last of his clothes, noting the laundry room felt smaller, and a hell of a lot more intimate since he’d walked in. He’d been awfully quiet. She turned to face him. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head and remained silent, but the heat in his eyes spoke volumes.
Tarah trembled, and, once again, reached out the grab the washer. Only she grabbed a very hot, very hard male instead.
Rook crushed her close, cupping the back of her head while his mouth crashed over hers, kissing her long and deep and frantic.
Heaven.
Damn, he was hot. And so hungry. Tarah met his tongue stroke for stroke as he lifted her up and set her on the dryer, standing between her thighs. Oh, yeah, this was good. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in.
A deep, sexy groan rumbled in his chest and he rocked against her. She saw stars and returned the favor, rubbing against the large bulge in his jeans.
He drew back and cursed. “Killing me.” He panted against her neck. “I’ve tried to stay away.” Then he was kissing her throat while his hands finally found their way to her chest.
“I know. Me too.” She clutched the back of his head and sucked in air, her mind and body unable to process all the sensations rushing through her.
A knock sounded on the door. “Dinner’s ready in five minutes,” Burly announced.
They broke apart, and Rook turned his back to her and gripped the sink. She watched the play of muscles across his shoulders as his body rose with each labored breath. “All right,” he called, his voice a lot steadier than hers.
She was still panting too hard to speak. Or move.
He washed his face, dried it with a paper towel, then tossed it in the trash before he turned to offer his hand.
She shook her head. “Probably not a good idea for me to touch you right now.”
Heat returned to his eyes and his jaw worked a time or two before he nodded and left the room.
Tarah blew out a breath, and finally hopped down to splash cold water on her face. Lord help her. How was she supposed to make it through dinner when it wasn’t food she was hungry for?
*
Rook was in deep.
There was no doubt about it. He couldn’t get Tarah off his mind. All week he’d tried. Guilt clawed at his gut for asking Remy to guard her while he looked for any excuse to get out of the house to keep away from the woman.
She was his job.
But, somewhere over the past eight days, that had changed. So had she.
He could feel it. The woman was just as torn up with this crazy ass need as he was.
It was insane.
And dangerous.
Why the hell had he gone into that laundry room?
Dinner went by in a blur. He was vaguely aware of the others talking, and of making a remark here and there. As soon as he could, he excused himself and headed for the stables, happy to have the evening chores to expend his pent-up energy, even if they already paid people to do them. He needed to work.
“Hey, Rook,” Henry greeted as he entered. “I wanted to ask if you were in my office about an hour ago.”
An hour ago, he’d had his mouth on Tarah’s sweet skin. He shook his head to break her spell, and focused on the ranch foreman. “No. Why?”
“My door was unlocked.” Henry shrugged. “I probably just forgot to lock it when I ran into town.”
Rook stiffened. He took nothing for granted anymore. “Did you check the video feed?” Security cameras were in and outside all the buildings except the house. If someone had broken in, it would’ve been recorded.
“Yeah.” The manager nodded. “No one entered.”
He rubbed his chin. “Anything look out of place?”
“Nope. Like I said, I probably just forgot to lock it.” He slapped Rook’s back. “I’ll let you get back to it, but if I had such a pretty fiancée in that house, I sure wouldn’t be out here moving hay. Let the guys do it. Go on and enjoy your woman.”
His woman…
Rook liked the sound of it. Too much.
He loaded hay in a cart and pushed it to the far end of the stables, laying bedding in stall after stall until he ran out of hay. His body was working on automatic. He pushed the cart back for more hay, giving the other workers a chance to shovel out more stalls for him to fill. Try as he might, his mind kept returning to Tarah.
She could never be his woman. In fact, he probably only had another week or so before the Federal Marshals came and took her away.
Where would that leave him?
Sorry.
The answer hit him like a blow to his hallowed out gut. He would be damn sorry if he let her go without ever seeing where their passion led. The promise of what it could be in her arms was too damn good for him not to explore.