The Ranger's Rules

by Lily Harlem

  The shot rang through the still air, the noise ricocheting around the vehicle. Her ears objected by ringing loudly and the reverse punch from the gun spread into her shoulder, around her back, and up her neck. But mostly she ignored all this and watched as a plume of dust burst upward just in front of the leopard.

  The leopard burst upward too, then sprang backward into the bushes. But only for a second, because then it darted out, at the far end of the bush from where Rhett stood, and raced into the distance, hugging the side of the fence.

  “Jesus, fucking, Christ,” Rhett said, marching up to the Jeep.

  He reached in and took the gun from her.

  “A thank you would be nice.” She frowned.

  “Thank you? You could have killed me or the leopard; we don’t have many of them here, you know.”

  “And there’s only one of you.” She paused and frowned. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I killed nothing and no one and you, Rhett Dawson are standing there safe and well and not being mauled to death by a big cat.”

  He removed his hat and raked his hands through his hair. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, his tooth necklace shifting as the tendons in his throat tensed. He then blew out the breath through pursed lips.

  Casey was shaking. Their encounter with claws and teeth had been frightening. But even so she reached forward and pressed her hand over his forearm. “It’s okay, Rhett, it’s okay.”

  He opened his eyes and set his gaze on her. “Why didn’t I have my damn gun?”

  “I don’t know. Distracted maybe?”

  “Yeah. Distracted by…”

  He didn’t finish the sentence but Casey knew he was going to say he’d been distracted by her. By what had happened between them—the spanking, the kiss, the intensity of their short but heated relationship.

  “Get in the Jeep,” she said, moving back to her seat and glancing around again. Several big birds with fingered wings circled in the distance but other than that it was just the shimmering heat on the dusty savannah.

  He did as she’d asked, propping the gun on the seat between them. He started the engine. “Do you mind if we just go back to my lodge, I need a damn drink.”

  “But—”

  “Going this way around we’re still two hours away from Amakala.” He was paler than usual, and was gripping the steering wheel so hard the veins in his hands and arms were flush.

  She hesitated, then, “Oh, okay.” The image of her chilled chardonnay and the longed-for sensation of sprawling out beneath a fan on soft white sheets shimmered into nothingness the way the heat on the bushveld did.

  He revved the engine then swung the Jeep back the way they’d come. This time he drove faster, though, not peering at each section of fence the way he had on the way.

  Casey gripped the door as they bounced along and kept a look out for the big cat. She didn’t see it.

  Quicker than she’d expected, they reached Rhett’s lodge.

  He jumped out, rifle in place, and opened the rattling gate.

  Casey slid across the seat, and rather than waiting for him to drive the Jeep, she pulled it into the compound, then killed the engine.

  He didn’t say anything, just shut the gate up and strode around the side of the lodge to the veranda.

  Buddy bounded out, all long limbs and big head.

  After placing her camera and bottle of water on the outside table, Casey glanced through the glass doors.

  Rhett had plucked a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard and poured a glass a quarter full. He knocked it back in one hit then sloshed more of the amber liquid into the glass. He grabbed the bottle then marched toward her, swinging it by his hip as he went.

  She stepped aside as he walked past.

  He then sat in his usual seat.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “I’m a fucking idiot.”

  “No, you’re not.” His harsh words had shocked her. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

  “I don’t, I can’t afford to. I’d be dead otherwise… like… back there.”

  She pulled out one of the chairs at the table, sat and watched as he drank a mouthful of whiskey. “It’s okay.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

  “Rhett, it really is okay.”

  He turned to her. “What if it wasn’t though? What if that leopard had attacked me, then what would have become of you? How would you have coped, felt, got over it? It would have been really fucking ugly to watch.”

  “But it didn’t attack you.”

  “It was too damn close for comfort.”

  “Close, yes, but that’s all, a close shave. And what if’s are no use to anyone.”

  He was quiet for a moment, then, “What if you’d shot the leopard.”

  “I had no intention of shooting the leopard, only scaring it away. I was never going to shoot it.”

  “You could have easily missed.”

  “Maybe, but I’m a pretty good shot, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  He surveyed her as he drained his glass. “It wasn’t a fluke?”

  “Screw you.” She laughed but the sound was laced with annoyance. “‘Cause I’m a girl, you think I can’t shoot?”

  He pressed his lips together.

  “That’s exactly what you think, isn’t it.” She folded her arms and scowled at him. “You’re just like all the rest.”

  “Am I?” He raised his eyebrows and reached for the bottle, sloshed another inch of drink into his glass without taking his gaze from her. “You sure about that?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He huffed and looked away as he set the bottle down. “So where’d you learn to handle a rifle?”

  Casey didn’t answer; instead she walked into the kitchen and grabbed herself a tumbler. She then went back out onto the veranda and held out her glass to him. “Pour me a drink and I’ll tell you.”

  The right side of his mouth twitched, as if holding back a smile, as he added a generous measure of whiskey to her glass.

  She sat again, took a sip, and resisted the urge to shudder as the strong, peaty flavor slapped against her tongue. “My father.” She cleared her throat. “I’m an only child, I guess he’d hoped for a boy. He took me to cricket matches, action movies, and to the rifle range. He’s a keen clay pigeon shooter, wanted me to have the same skill.”

  Rhett studied her.

  “He’s a great guy, you’d like him.” She smiled as she thought of her father. “He’s got three dogs, spaniels, they dote on him. Since he retired he’s been volunteering at the local shelter, it won’t be long before he comes home with another stray.”

  “And your mother?”

  “She’s great too, into her baking and involved with the local church. Always busy with something.”

  “So you don’t see them often?”

  “Not really, home for them is in Yorkshire, I live in London.”

  “I’ve never been to the UK.”

  “Where are you from, originally?”

  “Born and raised in Johannesburg, moved to Pretoria to go to agricultural college, you already know how that turned out.”

  “Brothers, sisters?”

  “Only child, same as you.” He paused. “Lost my parents several years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “They were later in life when they had me, I caught them by surprise.” He shrugged. “Not complaining, they doted on me, I was something they never thought they’d have, just meant I haven’t had them around for much of my adulthood.”

  Casey studied him as he turned to look at the horizon. He had such a strong, angular profile and oozed confidence and authority, but if what he said was true he really was entirely alone in the world, or at least that was how it seemed.

  “Thank you,” he said, holding up his glass. “For what you did today.”

  She stretched forward, chinked hers against it, and smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  He pulled in a breath and b
lew it out. “You surprised me, Casey, not many people do.”

  “I suppose I’m different from the others.”

  “Yeah, I guess you are.” He smiled, a proper wide smile and the tension in his jaw, neck, and shoulders appeared to seep away.

  But in an instant it rushed back. He spun his head to the right, then placed his glass on the deck with a bang. A splash of liquid spilled over the side. He didn’t appear to notice.

  He stood, and as he did so, Casey was aware of a rumbling noise in the sky. It whirred and fizzed and growled to her right.

  “Get inside,” he said. “Now.”

  “What?” She looked at the blue sky above.

  “Now, damn it.” He bent, scooped up Buddy who was standing staring to the west, the direction of the noise, then dragged her up by the wrist. “Inside.”

  The urgency in his voice wasn’t lost on Casey. She rushed indoors, his hand in the small of her back propelling her forward.

  He dropped Buddy onto the floor then shut up the door with a harsh, pane-rattling slam.

  Buddy rushed to his bed by the fireplace and curled up, head beneath his tail. Rhett was close behind him. “The window, Casey, in the kitchen. Shut it.”

  “But…?”

  “For God’s sake, woman, just do it, before they come.”

  She raced to the window. “Before what comes?”

  Rhett didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. As she closed the window and flicked the latch secure, Casey saw what was on its way. It was a huge buzzing cloud of insects, she wasn’t sure what exactly.

  “Fucking hell,” she muttered, backing away from the window. The swirling swarm was broad and dense, as if made of solid material, not individual bodies. And the noise, it was increasing tenfold by the second.

  She clasped her hands over her ears and turned to Rhett.

  He was busy securing a square of wood in the base of the chimney. “A few will get down,” he shouted. “But not many.”

  She didn’t want any to get down, whatever any was.

  “It’s okay.” He stood and brushed dust from his hands. “It’ll be over in a minute.”

  She began to shake—a wretched tremble that took hold of her spine and knees.

  The windows turned black, as if night had fallen with guillotine speed. Swirling shadows stretched over the floor and the roof tapped as though heavy rain was pounding it.

  With a glance upward, Casey swallowed a sob.

  “Hey, baby, no, it’s okay.”

  Baby?

  He was in front of her, his warm hands on her shoulders.

  “There’s so many,” she managed. “Thousands, millions.”

  “Yes, of course there are, it’s a swarm. But the bees aren’t interested in us, they’re just passing through.” He rubbed his thumbs on her collarbones. “We just have to wait it out, hold our nerve, for a few minutes.”

  His soothing voice calmed her. But still her heart thumped against her sternum and horrendous images of being covered in stinging bugs besieged her. She couldn’t hold back a whole body shake.

  “Hey, hey.” He drew her close, tucking her head beneath his chin. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

  Chapter Eight

  Inhaling Rhett’s rich masculine, whiskey-laced scent, and with her face snuggled against the flesh of his neck, Casey was pacified. She closed her eyes and visualized the bees drifting into the distance, the swirl of their bodies floating on the breeze the way a dirt devil danced.

  He rubbed his hands up then down her back and made soothing noises in her ear. “It’ll be okay… they’re going now.”

  As quickly as the frenzied swarm had shrouded the lodge, it lifted and moved on.

  Casey became acutely aware that she was locked in Rhett’s embrace.

  Silence wrapped around them as softly as a cashmere blanket.

  He seemed in no hurry to release her.

  She had her hands knotted beneath her chin, her shoulders rounded. As the sound had faded she’d relaxed against him rather than being a stiff board and was now melded against his body.

  “They’ve gone,” he said eventually.

  “Thank goodness.” Reluctantly she eased back from him.

  He allowed his arms to drop to his sides.

  “It’s been a long day,” she said, looking up into his face.

  He nodded. “Not over yet.”

  She hesitated, wondering what he meant, then, “It is for me. Too much excitement.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m going to bed. I need to lie down.”

  He opened his mouth then shut it again.

  Casey wondered what he’d been about to say. Something about bed? Joining her perhaps?

  What the hell would she say if he’d offered that? Sure, he infuriated her, he was bossy and presumptive and a few hours ago all she’d wanted was to be out of his company. But equally he was physically one of the sexiest guys she’d been near in a long time, and he held a wild passion about him that was incredibly alluring.

  What the hell would he be like to fuck?

  She drew in a sharp breath. There would be no fucking. Her brain was fuddled. The events of the day had clearly taken their toll. “I… er… thank you. The whiskey, it’s…” She stepped away and rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “Got to me.”

  “You okay?” His eyebrows dropped low. He reached for her right arm, cupped her elbow and stilled her movements.

  The heat of his palm shot through her, leaving a sensitive, quivering trail.

  What would he say if I asked him to join me?

  “Fine. Just need to lie down,” she managed, summoning strength and conviction. She was here to do a job, not get hot and naked with a cocky ranger.

  Removing herself from his reach, she walked, chin held high, into the bedroom. She shut the door then leaned back onto it and blew out a breath. It felt as though seven days had been compressed into one. Her ass stung from the morning spanking, her shoulder ached from the back jerk of the rifle shot, and her blood was still spiked with adrenaline from the fright of the swarm. And that was before she even examined her rollercoaster of emotions for Rhett.

  She unlaced her shoes and kicked them away, tugged off her skirt and vest top, then used the toilet. After washing her face and adding a slick of moisturizer, she flopped onto the bed and allowed the ceiling fan to work its magic on her hot skin.

  She closed her eyes. Images of the leopard camouflaged in the shrub flashed through her memories. Its vivid eyes, dappled fur, and sharp reaction to the bullet hitting the dirt replayed over and over. Next the swarm whirling toward the lodge, the darkness, the noise, the terror of being covered in bees. She willed herself to take slow steady breaths. It was life in the savannah, nothing more than that, and she’d lived to tell the tale.

  Gradually the buzzing in her ears, the result of the gunshot, faded to a dull ring. She turned onto her side and tucked her hands beneath her cheek. The heavenly sensation of being sleepy washed over her and she succumbed to it, glad that her mind had tired of reliving moments.

  The last thing to flit through her brain, as blackness took her from the day, was the memory of being over Rhett’s lap, bare ass hot and stinging, her legs kicking and her eyes moist.

  She slept deeply for several hours, and when she opened her eyes night had sneaked up on the lodge. Licking her lips and peeling her tongue from the roof of her mouth, she realized she was desperate for a drink.

  Slipping from the bed and pushing back the mosquito net—had she put it around the bed?—she wandered into the kitchen area.

  A full moon was basting the plains in a silvery glow and spilling into the lodge. The doors were shut, and there were no lights on, but it was almost as bright as daytime and the whirling fans created a pleasant temperature.

  Rhett was laid lengthwise on the couch in front of the fireplace. He had his hat shielding his face and his ankles were crossed on the opposite armrest to the one he was using as a pillow. On his stom
ach, Buddy was curled up in a tight ball.

  The whiskey bottle was on the table; it wasn’t empty but the glass next to it was. Something beside the glass, a photograph, caught Casey’s attention.

  Silently, she walked over to it and peered down.

  It was an image of a woman. She had dark skin, soft red lips, and hair in braids with colorful beads on the ends. Around her neck she wore a slim leather band with a buckle on the front, and her vest top was the brightest yellow.

  She was smiling at the camera, or whoever was taking the photograph, and appeared to be the epitome of happiness. Casey could almost hear the laughter she was about to break into.

  The woman’s rich dark eyes sparkled, the whites clear, and her skin shone. Casey looked a little closer, wondering who she was and what she meant to Rhett. Was she his lover? Or perhaps just a crush. Maybe his spanking ways had sent her packing?

  No. The fact this woman’s picture was so close to him as he’d drunk after a near-death experience, told her she was or had been a big part of his life. This beautiful lady owned a piece of his heart. How could she not, she was stunning.

  Rhett snored lightly then stirred, shifting his hips and absently resting his hand on Buddy’s back.

  Casey retreated to the kitchen, afraid of him seeing her studying him while he slept.

  But he watched me sleep.

  Even so, she reached for a chilled bottle of water, then retreated to her room.

  Once lying down again, she thought about how long it had been since she’d been with a man. She missed it, she really did. Being warm, naked, and satisfied in the arms of someone she loved, adored, and wanted to be with. A memory of the kiss she’d shared with Rhett came rushing into her mind. No, she hadn’t shared it, he’d kissed her. Uninvited and unexpected.

  But damn, what a kiss. She touched her lips and thought of the heated pressure of his mouth on hers. She’d been surprised as hell. Her ass was stinging, her hand itching to redden his cheek, yet she’d allowed his tongue to probe and dance with hers.

  And phew, the hard body she’d been dragged up against. Rhett was solid muscle, there was no doubt about that.

  She turned over in the bed, throwing her arms out of the sheet. Being pressed against him had been annoyingly sexy.