The Rancher and the City Girl

by Kathy Douglass

  She leaned her face into his palm. “Just stop talking and kiss me.”

  “Kiss you?” He had to be sure he’d heard that right. “That’s what you need right now?”

  She nodded. He was as confused as hell, but he took her in his arms, determined not to mess things up by voicing any of the questions bouncing around in his head. The scent of roses surrounded him as their lips met, igniting his desire.

  He’d held back the other times he’d kissed her, wanting to be sure that he didn’t rush her or misread her signals. Not this time. He angled his head and poured every feeling in his heart and soul into the kiss.

  * * *

  Camille sighed and pressed closer, loving the feel of Jericho’s solid chest against her breasts. His warmth surrounded her, cloaking her in security she hadn’t felt before. And desire. Sweet desire flowed through her, and she didn’t know how or if she could contain it. She needed to get closer, so she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with fervor. “I want more. Now.”

  “Me, too,” Jericho murmured against her lips.

  Camille smiled, too heated to be embarrassed that she’d spoken out loud. Besides, why should she feel ashamed for wanting him? Especially when he wanted her just as badly. Emboldened, she undid the top button of his shirt. When he smiled, she unfastened the second. Then the third. When she had undone the last button, she slid her hands up his torso. He sucked in a breath, then seemed to freeze before exhaling loudly.

  “Might I return the favor?” he asked as he shrugged out of the shirt, quickly freeing his wrists from the sleeves.

  She grinned and pointed to her T-shirt. “No buttons.”

  “Maybe. But you’re still wearing it.”

  “You have on a T-shirt, too.”

  He grabbed the bottom of the black fabric, pulled the shirt over his head in one smooth motion and dropped it on the floor. His chest looked even more muscular than she had imagined, and his six-pack abs were magnificent. Her mouth went dry at the sight and her pulse began to race.

  “Your turn.”

  Smiling wickedly, she took the hem of her shirt into her hands and slowly began to lift it, swaying her hips as she bared herself an inch at a time.

  “You’re killing me here.” His voice was an agonized whisper. Knowing she had the ability to turn him on made her feel feminine. Powerful.

  “Good things come to those who wait,” she teased, running the tip of her finger over his chest. Laughing, she yanked off her shirt and threw it on the floor beside his.

  “Oh, Camille. You are so beautiful,” he whispered reverently, caressing her shoulders and forearms, then sliding his hands to hers and joining their fingers.

  “So are you,” she murmured a second before his lips captured hers, sweeping her up in pleasure so unimaginably sweet it could have been a dream.

  * * *

  Camille felt Jericho’s steady heartbeat thumping against her cheek and stifled a groan. She’d just made love with Jericho Jones. All of the boldness she’d felt only moments ago disappeared, leaving her feeling vulnerable. Suddenly shy and aware of her nakedness, she attempted to pull the sheet from beneath her so she could cover herself. Jericho was lying on it, so she gave a mighty tug.

  “What are you doing?” Jericho’s voice rumbled against her ear, something she found incredibly appealing despite her discomfort.

  “I’m trying to get under the sheet.” She gave one more yank, then let go. There was no way she could free the sheet without his help, and he didn’t appear interested in moving.

  “Cold? I could warm you up.” He stroked his hand over her naked back, reminding her of how good she’d felt only moments ago. She’d become uncomfortable only when her mind began working overtime and doubts began to assail her, cooling her warm glow.

  She could lie but didn’t. “Not really. I’m just feeling exposed.”

  Thankfully he understood that she wasn’t talking only about her body but her soul, as well. He worked the sheet free then pulled it up to her breasts and covered himself to his waist. “Better?”

  “Much.” She shielded her eyes with her forearm. “You must think I’m nuts.”

  “No.” He wrapped his arm around her, and she snuggled against him. His fingers drew small circles on her shoulder. “You’re feeling vulnerable. But you don’t need to worry. You’re safe with me.”

  “I know.” At least the part of her that wasn’t struggling with doubt knew that. That part knew her heart as well as her body was in good hands. She knew he would never deliberately hurt her, so she forced her fears away and decided to enjoy the moment rather than borrow trouble.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  Her stomach growled loudly in response as if it didn’t trust her to reply truthfully. “Need I say more?”

  He chuckled, then kissed her lips, lingering long enough to stoke the fire in her. “I’ll let you get dressed.”

  “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  He scooped up his clothes and was gone in seconds, closing the door behind him. She pressed her face in the pillow where his head had been and inhaled deeply, filling her senses with his masculine scent. Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around herself in a happy hug, then flung aside the sheet and grabbed her clothes, putting them on with record speed. Crazy as it was, she missed him already.

  When she got to the kitchen, he was looking in the refrigerator. “What should we have?” he asked. He offered her a bottle of water, then unscrewed the top of his and took a long swallow. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he drank, something that had never seemed sexy to her before. Now, though, she went all warm and squishy inside. It seemed that whatever Jericho did, no matter how mundane, suddenly turned her on.

  “Sandwiches?” She didn’t want to waste time they could spend in bed cooking an elaborate meal. She just needed enough food to take the edge off her hunger and provide energy for later.

  “Sounds good,” Jericho said, grabbing butter and sliced cheese from the refrigerator.

  They put together grilled cheese sandwiches and warmed a can of tomato soup, touching each other as they worked. Each gentle caress or soft kiss calmed the stray fears that popped into Camille’s mind. Jericho turned on the radio and soft music filled the air, providing the perfect soundtrack to the moment. This kitchen was more romantic than a candlelit restaurant.

  Camille was focused on Jericho and still floating on a cloud when an anchor began reporting the news. Ordinarily she paid strict attention to the news in case there was any mention of the investigation at her firm, but now she was listening with only half an ear, so it took a minute for his words to penetrate her brain. When they did, she froze, giving the radio her full attention.

  In what was being called the largest case of money laundering in US history, three high-ranking banking executives and two federal agents had been arrested in New York. Donald Wilcox, Henry Johnstone and Gerald Bellamy, of Wilcox, Jones, and Kirk had been taken into custody at their office only hours ago.

  Her spoon clattered as it hit the rim of the bowl and landed on the floor, spattering red drops, which Shadow immediately licked clean. Shaking, she looked at Jericho, who was frozen as he, too, listened to the announcer.

  “Did he just say what I think he said? I’ve been scouring the internet for news and checking my email four or five times a day, and nothing. Could it really be over?”

  Jericho returned his half-eaten sandwich to his plate. Standing, he reached for her hand. “Let’s check online again and see what they’re saying on TV. We should be able to find out something.”

  Numb, Camille walked beside Jericho, her mind racing and stumbling over a multitude of jumbled thoughts. Could this nightmare be over? Had she managed to escape these criminals with her life intact, or was someone out there still gunning for her? And what about her job? Could she return? Did she want to? And what about
Jericho? They were just beginning a relationship. Or were they? He hadn’t said that he loved her. Only that he wanted her. Did they have a future? And was it a future she wanted?

  She cut off the thoughts before they gave her a headache. She didn’t have any answers anyway.

  “Here’s something,” Jericho said, turning the computer screen so she could see the article.

  The first few paragraphs provided the same information as the radio report, and as Camille skimmed the story, her frustration grew. She needed information about the assassins. There was no mention of them or any other arrests, but what she read in the following paragraphs stopped her heart. An FBI agent had been murdered and a second agent had been shot. And the authorities now believed that Agent Delgado’s accident was linked to the investigation. He’d been severely injured and was still in a coma.

  Jericho looked at her. “Wow.”

  “Yeah, wow.” She liked the agent. He was kind and only a few years older than she was. She really hoped he pulled through. He had a lot of life left to live. Not that that seemed to matter in this world. “Let’s pull up another article. Someone has to know something about whether the killers they sent after me have been caught.”

  They read five articles, but they contained the same information. Surely someone had to know something. “Now what? I’m in limbo. Am I safe or am I still in danger?”

  “Is there someone you can reach out to? Did Agent Delgado ever mention anyone else you could contact?”

  “No.”

  “Then I think we need to bring Trent into the loop. He might be able to get information that we can’t.”

  Camille didn’t hesitate this time. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  Jericho dialed and then put the phone on speaker so Camille could hear, too. She nibbled at her lip, her nerves getting the best of her until Trent answered.

  “Chief Knight.”

  “Trent, it’s Jericho. Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “I’ve got you on speaker so Camille can hear. I’m not sure if you’ve been following the news about the money laundering at that New York firm and the FBI agents who have been arrested.”

  “I have.”

  “Camille works for that firm. She’s the one who contacted the FBI about some discrepancies she discovered in the accounts. She’s been hiding out here because she overheard her boss telling someone to kill her. We’ve read everything we can find, but there’s no mention about the hired killers.”

  “Let me get this straight. Camille, you might have led killers to my town and you’re just now telling me?”

  Her stomach seized at the anger in his voice. She hadn’t meant to put anyone else in danger.

  “Hey, she was scared and didn’t know who to trust,” Jericho interjected.

  “Maybe not, but you did. You sat in Mabel’s Diner, filled with people, including my pregnant wife, and didn’t say a word.”

  “I’m sorry,” Camille said. She didn’t want to be the cause for a ruined friendship. “Don’t blame Jericho. He wanted to tell you, but I asked him not to.”

  Trent was silent for a minute. “Okay. Tell me what you know about these people.”

  “Nothing. I didn’t see anyone. I only heard Mr. Wilcox tell someone to kill me and make it look like an accident. I don’t even know how many people he was talking to. I ran to Jericho after that. I’ve been hiding here ever since. The agent who I had been in contact with, Rafael Delgado, is in a coma because of a so-called accident they caused.”

  “Okay. Let me see what I can find out. Don’t leave that ranch and don’t contact anyone until you hear from me. Understood?”

  “Yes. And I am sorry.”

  Trent hung up.

  Camille hung her head and closed her eyes. She hadn’t given a thought to anyone but herself. Had she drawn killers to this town and its people? She pictured the kids who had visited the ranch, Joni and the countless other people she’d encountered. And she may have put them all in danger.

  “Don’t cry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  She leaned her head against Jericho’s shoulder. She already had so much to feel guilty about with how she’d treated Jeanette. There was no way she could handle more. “I should have listened to you and let you tell Trent.”

  “He knows now. That’s what matters.”

  She didn’t quite believe that, but she couldn’t change the past. Now all she could do was wait and hope for the best.

  * * *

  “I think I’ll go crazy just sitting here and waiting,” Camille said, crossing to the window and tapping on the pane. Hours had passed and they still hadn’t heard a word from the chief. The sun had set and the moon was beginning to rise. A few stars popped out in the inky sky. The peace outside was a stark contrast to the thoughts and emotions bombarding her. She would start screaming if Trent didn’t call back soon. Whom was he contacting? And would his inquiry raise suspicion?

  “Let’s go for a walk,” Jericho said, coming up behind her. “You can pace without having to turn around.”

  “It’s dark out there.”

  “I’ll bring a flashlight.”

  “I don’t want to miss Trent’s call.”

  “He knows my cell number.” He pulled her away from the window and out the door, ignoring her sputtering objections. “A little distraction is what you need.”

  They walked down the stairs, Shadow on their heels. He sniffed the grass, then returned, circling between their legs. Jericho took her hand and gave a comforting squeeze, which she returned. They didn’t speak, both choosing to keep their own counsel. Camille would give anything to know what Jericho was thinking—no, feeling—but she didn’t ask. With everything going on, she didn’t trust herself to use the right words. He might be experiencing that same lack of clarity.

  Things had moved quickly between them. They’d gone from enemies to friends to lovers in the blink of an eye. They hadn’t had a chance to discuss where, if anywhere, they went from here. Maybe he didn’t want a relationship and maybe he did. She didn’t know. Right now she didn’t have the brainpower to figure it out.

  “Do you plan to return to your job when you go back to New York?”

  “Of course,” she answered, swallowing her disappointment. She’d hoped he’d at least ask her to stay. Pride was her friend. “There’s no way I’m letting a bunch of criminals run me away from a job I love.”

  Okay, love might be overstating it a bit. There was a time when she had loved her job, a time when her job defined her. But that time had come and gone. Still, she couldn’t just walk away from the people who depended on her. That would be irresponsible.

  Jericho only grunted. She didn’t quite know what to make of that. He shined the flashlight on the ground before them, moving it from side to side to illuminate their path. The possibility of tripping on a tree root or stepping into a hole required them to walk slowly. The sounds of the night soothed her, and her heart rate slowed to normal.

  “Ready to go back?” Jericho asked after about twenty minutes.

  “Yes.”

  They turned and headed back to the house in silence. When they got there, they checked the internet for updated information, but there wasn’t any.

  “This could take a while,” Jericho cautioned.

  “It’s already been a while.” She knew she shouldn’t be snapping at him, but she couldn’t help it. She paced to the window and back.

  “How about something to eat?”

  Jericho had coaxed her to finish her soup earlier, but there had been no hope for the grilled cheese. “I don’t think I can swallow a thing. You can go ahead if you’re hungry.”

  He shook his head, then sat on the couch. “Come here.”

  She smothered a sigh and joined him. He stretched out and pulled her to lie down beside him. As he wr
apped his arm around her waist, she leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. The wait might still be long, but it would be easier to take lying in Jericho’s arms.

  * * *

  The phone rang and Camille shot up, reaching for the phone at the same time as Jericho. He got to it first and answered. A second later he put it on speaker. “Go ahead. Camille is listening.”

  She sat as close as she could to him, gaining strength from his nearness.

  “It took some doing, but I managed to talk with an agent involved in the case. They were pleased to hear you’re okay and want to get your statement as soon as possible. Apparently Agent Delgado informed his superior at the FBI that he was concerned about your welfare. He was injured and then you vanished before they could make contact with you.”

  “What about the people who are after her?” Jericho asked. “Is Camille safe now?”

  “I was getting to that. Wilcox admitted to trying to hire someone to kill you, Camille. What he didn’t know was the person he was talking to was actually an undercover agent. The FBI is confident that everyone involved is in custody and that you’re not in any danger. Camille, you’re free to return home whenever you choose.”

  Jericho thanked Trent, and Camille babbled words she hoped made sense.

  She sagged against the couch, her body too limp to sit up straight. “It’s over. It’s finally over.” Then she started to laugh with abandon and relief and plain old joy. “I’m free. Jericho, I’m free. I can finally go home.”

  Jericho smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He handed her the phone. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

  “What?” Camille shook herself and focused on Jericho.

  “You can’t want me listening to your conversation with your family. I know I’m not on their list of favorite people.”

  “Maybe before. But after the way you protected me, they’re going to love you. They’ll be in your debt for life.” She had no doubt her family would come to love Jericho.

  Just as much as she had.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lost in his thoughts, Jericho sat in the dark kitchen, his legs stretched in front of him. Unable to sleep, he’d tossed for a few minutes before getting out of bed. He hadn’t had a bout of insomnia since before Camille arrived. It didn’t take a genius to connect his inability to sleep with her imminent departure.