They paused at the passenger side of his truck and he couldn’t help himself. He took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, longingly.
She responded, raising her arms around his neck and opening her mouth to allow him to deepen the kiss. She tasted of sweet desire and a hint of chocolate mousse.
They ended the kiss when he heard people approaching one of the cars parked near them. He opened the passenger door and helped her inside, and then he walked around the car to get into the driver seat.
“That was an almost perfect ending to a perfect evening,” he said and started the truck engine.
“I don’t even want to hear what would make it a perfect ending versus an almost perfect ending,” she retorted drily.
He grinned at her. “Ah, we’ve reached that point where you can now read my mind.”
She returned his grin. “Not really. You’re just that predictable on certain subjects.”
“Is being predictable a bad thing?” he asked.
“Not necessarily. I think in most cases it could be a good thing,” she replied.
At that moment the back truck windshield shattered and a thump resounded as a bullet struck the dashboard.
Chapter 11
“Get down,” Tyler yelled urgently as he glanced in the rearview mirror and cursed beneath his breath. He stepped on the gas.
He didn’t have to tell her twice. She unfastened her seat belt in record time and hit the floor in a crouch in front of her passenger seat.
Another bullet slammed into the dash and Greta emitted a small scream in response.
“Just stay down,” Tyler commanded, his voice filled with tension. “The shots are coming from the car behind us. Dammit, I should have been paying more attention.”
He swerved to the far left and then to the right, obviously in an effort to avoid another bullet hitting them. Greta’s heart beat a frantic rhythm of terror as it felt as if they careened out of control.
She knew who must be in the car behind them. Alice. Who else could it be? Who else would be shooting at them? Why was this happening? What was wrong with her twin? What if she managed to shoot Tyler? What if she blew out all their tires and they crashed? A million different horrific scenarios shot off like a flash show in Greta’s head.
Her fear wasn’t just for herself but for him, as well. At the moment Tyler was as much at risk for death as she was, and she wanted to somehow shield him, to protect him. It wasn’t fair that he was at risk. She knew she was the ultimate target.
A sharp ping took out the rearview mirror on the truck’s driver side as Tyler increased not only his erratic moves from lane to lane but also his speed.
Greta was thrown from side to side as the thrum of the powerful truck engine revved faster and faster. A glance at the speedometer nearly took her breath away.
He was driving at breakneck speed. If anything got in their way, they would both be dead on arrival. By nature Greta wasn’t a big crier, but the sheer terror of the situation had her weeping uncontrollably.
He slowed only to make a sharp right-hand turn and after that he applied the brakes even harder and finally rolled to a stop.
Greta peeked up just enough to see that they were in front of the Colton house. She released a trembling sigh and tried to stanch her tears.
“She didn’t make the turn into the entry,” he said, his tone grim. “She flew on by the ranch entrance. Let’s get you inside the house as quickly as possible. Wait for me to come around and get you.” There was a stone-cold command in his voice that she had no desire to disobey.
She watched tearfully as he got out of the truck, his gun immediately filling his right hand. He was at the passenger door in an instant. When he’d opened it and she’d crawled out and stood, he placed an arm around her and then used himself as a shield just behind her as they raced up the stairs to the front door.
Once inside, they both leaned against one of the foyer walls, Tyler catching his breath as she swiped more tears from her eyes.
Edith appeared in the doorway and took one look at them. “What’s happened?” Her voice was full of concern.
“Call Ryan,” Tyler managed to say, and then he reached for Greta and she went willingly into his arms, needing his strength, his warmth to remind her that she, that they, had survived.
It was over, at least for now. They were inside the house and they were safe. She hugged him tight and he returned the hug. She finally raised her face to look at him. “I just learned something new about you,” she said.
“And what’s that?” He gently shoved strands of her hair away from her face, an action that had become familiar from him. His gaze remained intent on her face.
“When you want to, you can drive like the proverbial bat out of hell,” she said.
“Only when it involves bullets,” he replied.
Her legs began to shake as residual terror soared through her. “Come on. Let’s get you to the family room, where you can sit down,” he said, apparently anticipating her need to get off her unstable legs.
He led her through the formal living room and into the family room, where she collapsed onto the sofa while he paced the floor in front of her.
She could tell he was angry. His back was ramrod straight, and now that his gun was back in its holster, his hands fisted and unfisted by his sides. His features had a hard, dangerous edge to them that she’d never seen before except when she thought he might punch his brother in the nose.
“Tyler?”
He stopped pacing and looked at her and his features relaxed, but for only a second. “It was all my fault,” he said before she could say anything more. “I got caught up in the moment with you and forgot to be on guard duty.” His hands fisted once again.
“It’s not your fault,” she countered. “It was just a car driving behind us. How could you have known that the person in that car was going to start shooting at us?”
He began to pace again. “I let the car get too close to us. I should have been paying more attention. She was practically on our back bumper when she shot the first time.”
“She must have followed us to the restaurant,” Greta said thoughtfully. “She waited while we ate and waited until we were on the road in the dark.”
“Obviously.” His self-anger was rife in the sharp single word. “There were several cars on the road behind us as we drove to the restaurant, but none of them were close enough that I was concerned.”
Edith appeared in the doorway. “Ryan is on his way,” she said. “Can I get either of you anything? Maybe something warm to drink?”
Greta forced a smile at the housekeeper who had been such an integral part of her life. “Nothing for me, Edith, but thank you.”
“I’m good, too,” Tyler said.
Edith left the doorway and once again they were alone, with Tyler’s anger the palpable third occupant in the room. He began to pace once again.
He was like a wild caged tiger. Back and forth, back and forth he walked with tension radiating off him in waves.
“Tyler, please sit down,” she finally said. “You’re making me more nervous than I already am.”
He flung himself on the sofa next to her and she grabbed one of his hands in hers. “Instead of blaming yourself, you should be congratulating yourself for getting us both home safe and sound.”
His jaw muscles knotted. “That was just by sheer luck. I should have seen the danger coming before it was right behind us.”
She squeezed his hand. “Stop it, Tyler. One enemy is all we need without you turning yourself into your own enemy.”
He drew in a deep breath and his shoulders lost some of their rigidity. “Thanks—I needed to hear that.” Even though he smiled at her, she still felt the tension that filled his body.
Or perhaps it was her own tension she felt. There was no question that she’d been terrified during the harrowing ride, unsure if they would die either by being shot or by crashing off the road or into another vehicle.
Sh
e could pretend that she was over it, but she wasn’t. It was all still too fresh in her mind...the unexpected shatter of the back window, that sick thud of the bullet in the dash.
“Your truck is ruined because of me,” she said with a touch of miserable guilt.
“My truck is messed up because of the bullets that were shot by somebody else. I have insurance, but to be honest, that’s the last thing on my mind right now. I keep thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong.” He tensed up once again.
“But they didn’t go wrong and we’re here and we’re okay,” she said with a forced smile.
He returned her smile and squeezed her hand and at that moment Ryan arrived.
Ryan took the report, his features grim as he asked questions. She was surprised that Tyler was able to identify the sedan that had been behind them as either black or dark blue, and then he and Tyler went outside to check out the damage to Tyler’s truck and to see if Ryan could get one of the bullets out of the dashboard for evidence.
Greta curled up into the corner of the sofa, grateful that it was too late for her parents to be up and around. The last thing she wanted was for them to worry about how close danger had come to her tonight. And it had come far too close.
For the past week Greta’s mother had worked on menus and seating charts, with autumn-colored floral table arrangements and everything to make this Thanksgiving Day one to remember. Her smiles had been frequent and she appeared filled with a happy energy.
It was certainly the first time Greta ever remembered her mother taking charge of a family gathering. That responsibility had always fallen on Edith’s shoulders throughout the years.
Greta rubbed the center of her forehead where a tension headache was just beginning to blossom. She’d love to dwell in thoughts of turkey and dressing, but she couldn’t sustain any pleasant thoughts as she thought of how close the threat had come to them tonight.
Alice was here, someplace on the ranch, and she was apparently watching their every move. She was cunning and patient, a lethal combination. And now they knew she had a gun.
She looked up as Tyler returned to the room alone. “Ryan got what he needed from me and now you look like you’re ready for bed,” he said.
“I am,” she agreed. “All this danger and bullets flying is exhausting and I’m fighting off a headache.”
He frowned. “Anything I can do?”
“No, I’m sure I’ll be fine once I get to bed.”
He took one of her hands and pulled her off the sofa. “Everything will look much brighter in the morning,” he said.
“You promise?”
“I wish I could,” he said ruefully. “But we can hope.”
They parted ways at their bedrooms and Greta went directly to her bathroom. She undressed and pulled on her nightshirt and then scrubbed the makeup off her face, all the while trying to keep the new inner chill from sweeping over her entire body.
When her face was clean, she brushed her hair, staring at herself in the mirror. But instead of her thoughts being filled with the woman who looked like her, a woman who, in all probability, had been behind the attack on them tonight, her thoughts were filled with Tyler.
He’d been by her side throughout each and every day. He’d stood patiently for hours by the corral as she worked with Sugar. He’d laughed at her jokes when they weren’t that funny and seduced her with a simple touch or an unexpected lingering kiss.
Tonight his first thought had been for her safety. Even as they’d walked up the stairs to the front door of the house, it had been his back that might have been hit by a bullet.
She wanted him. She’d wanted him every night that she’d slept alone since they’d been back at the ranch. But tonight she wanted him more than ever, and with the taste of potential death in the back of her throat, she needed him to remind her how wonderful it was to be alive.
She spritzed a bit of perfume across the top of her head and then left the bathroom and went directly to his doorway. She felt no hesitation, no doubt whatsoever as to what was about to happen.
His door was cracked a bit and she opened it. “Tyler?” She stood in the threshold of his bedroom.
She heard the rustle of sheets. “Yeah?”
“It’s time.”
“Time for what?” he asked.
“Time for me to invite myself into your bed.”
“Then what are you doing way over there?”
She nearly ran to his bed, where he awaited her with open arms. The minute his arms wrapped around her, she knew she was where she belonged and the timing was right.
This night wouldn’t be like the two nights they’d previously shared together. It wouldn’t be about pure lust and chemistry, at least not for her.
This time her heart was involved. She didn’t know to what extent; she knew only that this was about so much more than an uncomplicated sexual release.
When his lips took hers, it wasn’t with ravenous hunger but rather with a tenderness that was far more arousing. He kissed her for what seemed like an eternity, his hands running up and down her back as if her cotton nightshirt was the most erotic material he’d ever felt.
Their tongues moved together in a slow dance and she felt as though the music would never end. And there was music in the soft sighs that escaped her lips, in the murmur of his sweet words as his lips drifted down her throat.
Despite the lateness of the hour, she had never felt so wide-awake, so wonderfully alive. Her skin leaped to life with his touch and it wasn’t long before she sat up to allow him to pull off her nightshirt.
His hands seemed to be everywhere, palms gliding over the tips of her breasts, fingers sliding over her stomach and down to her upper thighs.
She relished every caress and returned the favor by clinging to his strong biceps and then moving her hands across his broad back. His skin was warm, almost feverish, and banished the chill that had invaded her body hours before.
She gasped in delight as his mouth teased first one of her nipples and then the other, the electric sensations zinging throughout her body and sparking at her very center.
Everything was different this time and she knew it was because it wasn’t just a physical experience for her anymore. Whether he knew it or not, for her it was a heart-and-soul connection. She had no idea what was in his heart or in his soul for her, but at the moment it didn’t matter.
And she was so in the moment. His fingers once again danced across her thighs, teasing and tormenting her as they got closer and closer to intimately touching her.
Then he was there, his fingers making magic as they moved in a rhythm that accelerated until she was gasping and the crashing waves of her release washed over her.
His mouth took hers again and he gazed down at her, his eyes glowing in the slash of moonlight that crept through the part in the curtains. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “You are beautiful both inside and out.”
She replied by reaching down and grasping his hardness in her hand. He moaned as she moved her hand slowly up and down the shaft of his arousal.
She loved the feel of him and the sound of his obvious desire. She wanted him to want her time and time again. She wanted him to love her.
She froze for a moment as the depth of her feelings for him was revealed to her. She loved him. She didn’t know when it had happened, but it was there, burning in her heart.
He took advantage of her pause and rolled between her thighs. Slowly he entered her and she closed her eyes as exquisite sensations rushed through her. He filled her up, made her whole, and she wanted him to stay connected to her forever.
He began to move his hips against hers and her pleasure became mindless bliss. His breathing grew more labored as he increased the depth and quickness of his movements.
She grasped his firm buttocks, silently urging him on as a new tension rose inside her. And then she was there once again, her climax shivering through her while at the same time he reached his own release with a cry
of her name.
Greta.
She’d never liked her name as much as she did at that moment.
They remained locked together, his weight held on either side of her by his elbows. He stared down at her for a long moment and then leaned down and gave her a kiss so tender, so caring it sprang unexpected tears to her eyes.
He finally rolled off to her side and turned to face her. He drew a finger down the side of her face, a sweet gesture that shot a new warmth straight to her heart.
“I suppose you’re leaving me now,” he whispered.
In response she turned over and spooned herself against his warm body. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said.
He threw an arm around her and nuzzled her neck, and that was the last thing she remembered before she fell asleep in his arms.
* * *
Waking up with Greta Colton in his arms filled Tyler with emotions he’d never had before. She was curled against him, the scent of her hair filling his nose, and he didn’t want to move a muscle that might awake her and send her out of his arms.
It was still dark outside the window, although he had a feeling dawn was just a few eye blinks away. He still had plenty of time to enjoy the warm naked curves against him.
He closed his eyes again. Sated and content—that was what he felt at the moment. He’d been surprised when she’d decided to spend the night in his bed.
Something had changed and he had a feeling it was gratefulness and the closeness of death that had brought her to him the night before and kept her in his embrace throughout the night.
He didn’t care what the reason. He was only happy to have the experience of making love with her again and now of waking up beside her. Her sleeping presence next to him evoked a new sense of protectiveness, especially as he thought of the night before.
Ryan had agreed that the shooter in the car had probably been Alice. How could one young woman stay hidden from the authorities for so long? Did she have help? A partner? Or was she just a very smart lone wolf determined to create havoc?
He had a feeling the latter was true. He couldn’t imagine a woman filled with such rage trusting or wanting a partner. He also couldn’t imagine what she hoped to accomplish with Greta’s death. What could possibly be behind her wrath toward a sister she’d never met before?
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