Protecting Kate: Dark Horse, Inc: Book 1

by Amy J. Hawthorn

  “Payroll? I don’t even have a business.” Rick appeared genuinely baffled.

  “For someone so smart, you can be awfully dense at times.” Trent pointed his beer in his friend’s direction. “What do you think you’re doing now?”

  “I’m helping family, and now my best friend has been dragged into the mess. I sure as hell can’t walk away now.”

  “You know, most people would charge for the type of work you’re doing. It’s called having a job, rich boy. And you wouldn’t have walked away from Todd or Kate any more than you have me.”

  It was Rick’s turn to give Trent the middle finger.

  Kate shut the front door after walking Rick out. His friend had stayed the prior night on his couch while Trent had been in his frigid jail cell. Now that Trent was out and able to keep watch over Kate himself, Rick would be headed back to his hotel suite, leaving him and Kate alone.

  He checked to make sure she locked up and set the security system the way he’d shown her. She followed his directions exactly and turned to face him. Fire burned in her expression, pinning him in place.

  For a split second, he thought she might be angry with him, her look was so intense. But no, there was no anger. Her expression spoke of pure, heated desire.

  She pointed her business finger at him. “You. You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine, I swear. It wasn’t the most comfortable place I’ve ever rested, but it wasn’t the worst either.” If he could sleep on the unforgiving, desert ground of Afghanistan, then he could make it through a few hours in a cold jail cell.

  Her eyes softened, weakening him.

  “I’m not only concerned with you physically. What about up here?” She cupped his cheek in her soft palm and met his gaze. Warm, milk chocolate irises looked back at him with an emotion so deep he didn’t dare put a name to it.

  “I’m fine. Very relieved to be out where I can keep an eye on you. Rick didn’t annoy you too badly while I was gone?” Things were getting deep fast, and he wasn’t sure he could handle it. Jail cells? Check. Sifting through the sands of hell, searching for landmines? Check. Handling a wild, bucking stallion or a panicked mare? Check.

  The sweet concern of a woman who was too loving for her own good? It scared the living shit out of him but, apparently, he didn’t have much say in the matter.

  “I missed you. Worried about you last night.” She stood on tiptoe and feathered a kiss against the corner of his mouth. Her warm breath washed over him.

  Light fingertips trailed down his face, over his shoulders and down his abdomen. They snuck under his shirt and scraped lightly, sending chills through him. But the heat of desire followed behind, scorching him in the best way possible.

  “Off.” Her perfect little nails trailed over him again and she gripped the hem of his shirt in her hands.

  “Off?” He croaked the question.

  “Yes. This has to go. I feel the sudden need to inspect you myself.”

  He raised his arms so she could lift his shirt. She lifted it as high as she could and raised an imperious brow. “Yes, ma’am.” He was no dummy. He ripped the thing the rest of the way off and threw it to the couch.

  When she put the moist heat of her mouth to the center of his chest, his gut clenched. She made a show of walking around his body, trailing those dangerous, wicked little fingers all along the way.

  She inspected him as if he were a prized stallion at auction. He didn’t mind one little bit. Neither did his cock. It swelled, hardening, eager for some attention of its own.

  When she returned to face him, rasping a light touch over one nipple, continuing to the next and stopping with a fingertip posed over it, he met her gaze. “Does everything check out?”

  “So far, but I’m not finished. Next, the pants have to go.” Wordlessly, he obeyed and unfastened the denim. He slipped them off, thankful he’d gone commando in his haste to discuss business. He tossed them to the couch, too.

  Frozen in place, he feared breaking the spell she’d woven. When she whispered into his ear, he would have moved mountains for her. “Thank you. I can’t believe you went to jail for me, because of my mess. You are one of the best men I’ve ever known.” Her mouth blazed a trail of warmth along his jawline, and he couldn’t have moved if his life depended on it. Her words had more impact than her physical actions, but the combination slayed him—a man who’d come from nothing and, by all rights, should be nothing. Yet she worshipped him like some sort of damned hero.

  He had to say something. He couldn’t just stand there like an idiot, soaking up all of her sweetness. Damn, how he craved it. Her.

  “Not your fault.” His words weren’t much more than a whisper as she knelt before him. “Kate, sweetheart, you don’t owe me a damn thing. Please tell me this isn’t a gratitude—” A gratitude what? Hell, he didn’t know. He lost his words, every single one, as she wrapped a hand around his cock and took the head into the sweet heat of her mouth.

  He tangled his fingers into the long silk of her hair. Glittering brown eyes looked up as she hummed and took him deeper. Gentle suction gripped him, held him tight, but those eyes of hers turned him to stone. Enthralled, he watched, breathless as her wet lips slid over his length. His sac tightened, strained but he didn’t want to finish this way. He needed to be inside of her. Even more, he needed to give something back to the woman who gave him so much.

  He eased her back until she had no choice but to release his length on a sucking pop. He put his hands under her arms and lifted her against him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Certain she wasn’t going anywhere, he pulled her shirt over her head and whipped it away. At the sight of her lace covered breasts heaving in arousal, every intention he’d had of going slow went up in flames.

  He needed to be skin to skin more than he needed his next breath.

  Of a like mind, her hands flew to unhook her bra. She had it half undone by the time he’d tossed the shirt. It followed and landed somewhere behind them as he carried her to his bed.

  He sat her at the foot where she looked up at him with a sassy grin that said she was with him all the way. She laid back on the bed and her hands went to unfasten her jeans, her breasts bobbing as she wriggled her hips. The denim inched down over her curves, making his cock ache with the need to sink into her. But, as much as he enjoyed the show, he needed to experience the feel of her even more.

  He grabbed her pants, eager to finish the job she’d started. He’d managed to get them off one ankle when she quirked a grin and turned to climb up the bed, to run from him. On all fours, with her bare ass in the air, she looked over her shoulder as if to see if he’d chase.

  Did she have any idea that she’d waved a red cape at a raging bull? There was no stopping him now.

  Before she could turn, he leapt after her, grasped those hips and pulled her tight against his lower belly. The tip of his cock brushed the damp heat of her, freeing the last few vapors of his control. He tested her readiness and felt nothing but slick, tight heaven waiting for him. She moaned, low and hungry, arching back into his touch.

  Damn, she was gorgeous.

  He fumbled in the nightstand for a condom and slipped it on before he forgot and took her like a raging animal. He returned, used a hand on her pelvis to tilt her just so and eased into her on an agonizingly slow glide. The tight friction rasped over him in a delicious torture.

  He pushed his cock into her and was rewarded with the toss of her head, her hair trailing over her shoulder and to the bed. The sleek line of her spine curved as she pushed back onto him, pressing the softness of her cheeks against his pelvis. He reared back until only the head of his cock remained inside and then plunged back in.

  A pleasured whimper escaped from deep in her throat. Taking his cue, he repeated the motion and took up an unrelenting rhythm. He grasped her hips, swearing as their flesh came together again and again in a frenzied pace.

  Draping his body over hers, he reached underneath her body to cup a breast in ha
nd, the sweet, soft flesh a perfect handful. Her spine straightened, then bowed as her muscles tightened. With a low, throaty purr he felt all the way to his toes, she climaxed. Her body squeezed him with breath stealing intensity.

  His sac drew up even tighter. Pleasure boiled and erupted through him. Helpless, he followed over the edge of madness and came. Holding her still, he let the strength of her orgasm milk him dry.

  Damn, but the woman was dangerous on so many levels.

  With a mountain of regret, he eased out of her body and helped her to lie down. He took care of business, returned and pulled her into his arms.

  He was beginning to think that he just might have to keep her there forever.

  “You’re certain this is the way you want this done? I really think patience is your friend here. They have physical evidence on Trent. There’s little doubt that they won’t lock him away for ages when this goes to trial. I planted more than enough to hang Preston’s murder on his head. When you add that to his current relationship with Kate, it will be a slam dunk.” He tried to get his uncle to listen to reason.

  Bailey looked up from his desk, an odd, dead, glint in his dark eyes.

  Despite never having children, his uncle was known as a family man first and a shrewd businessman second, two traits that screamed politician. Beneath that, there’d always been something odd in the way he’d viewed himself. He’d been smart enough to keep it hidden until recently. Whatever poison that lived inside his uncle had spread, gaining a firmer grip.

  The evidence went beyond his recent odd obsession and had manifested in his fascination with plastic surgery. There was no telling how much money he’d invested in having his face reconstructed to resemble his idol.

  As long as uncle-dearest wrote his paychecks, he’d pretend not to notice.

  “That could take a year or longer. I don’t have that kind of time and the courts fail people all the time. Somehow he got the best lawyer in the state, and they could paint him as some sort of damn war hero. He could get off on a technicality. It’s too unpredictable and this is too important. I can’t trust the system not to fail me.”

  He chose not to respond to Bailey’s comment. It wouldn’t help to point out the fact that the courts were there for the victim and the accused, not a spoiled, half-loony politician.

  “I want him gone as soon as possible. Yesterday would suit me better. The election is coming up in a few months and I need everything in place before then. I don’t care what you have to do, just get him out of the picture. Permanently.” A loud smack rang out as Bailey slammed his palm against his desk.

  “Even if he’s gone, you know she might not cooperate. Women can be stubborn creatures.” He should know. One woman in particular was the cause of all his troubles, but he’d see to her soon enough.

  “If you do things correctly, she’ll need a shoulder to cry on. I’ll be the strong man she needs to lean on in her time of need. I don’t pay you to think. I pay you to act. Nothing more. You have a plan, correct?” The senator rubbed his chin in thought.

  “I do. I believe I’ve found a way to draw her out. Trent will follow. I can easily get him out of the way, but I may not be able to make it look like an accident. He may have to simply disappear.” Eager to escape the weight of Bailey’s madness, he stretched his legs out in front of him.

  “Disappear? That might work just as well.” The senator cocked his head, considering.

  “Hopefully. If luck is with us, everyone will think the perfect Trent Dawson jumped bail and ran like a guilty coward. Those closest to him will have doubts and suspicions and may make some noise.” He shifted in his seat, then crossed his ankles, impatient to leave.

  “That can’t be helped. Just see it through.”

  “Are you going to be able to keep her quiet and contained? She won’t thank you for getting rid of Trent. She may very well hate you for it.” He hated the tiptoe bullshit. He had to watch his every step and word. It was exhausting, but he couldn’t get rid of his uncle until he had enough money saved to set himself up. A measly half million wouldn’t last him long. “Her family in Riley Creek may not have any money or social pull, but they will make a stink. They’re a close unit. How will you keep her from reaching out to them? How will you ensure her cooperation?”

  “Why wouldn’t she cooperate? She’ll be the wife of a noble senator and future First Lady. Any woman would want that. She’ll be honored.”

  He bit his tongue before he pointed out that his aunt hadn’t felt honored. When she had begun to suggest that her husband should seek psychiatric help, she’d met a suspicious end. Now his uncle expected Kate MacDonald to be grateful they killed her new love interest? That she would simply accept being kidnapped and be happy about it? Maybe Bailey was far deeper into his madness than he’d originally thought.

  He couldn’t waste any more energy trying to reason with a madman. He needed to tie up his own loose ends and insure that there wasn’t a single thread tying him to this ridiculous mess. As much as he’d like to milk a few more payments from his uncle, it would be smarter to cut his ties and ghost out of this nightmare.

  He had his own agenda and business was business. “I’ll have expenses that—”

  “Fine. I’ll make sure you’re paid. Now quit acting like a cricket on my shoulder and get to work.”

  He nodded and turned on his heel, relieved to leave the oppressive weight of his uncle’s madness.

  Chapter Twelve

  They’d just arrived at the small office on the outskirts of the next town over. The building looked as though a strong breeze could blow it over. Bright morning sunshine made Kate thankful she’d worn her sunglasses as she took in the rural setting. Trees and more trees surrounded them and shin-high grass bordered the cracked sidewalk. “Trent. Really, it should be fine. I called Doc Jones and he verified that the owner of Angels and Paws Animal Hospital passed away about six months ago. It makes perfect sense that his son would donate some of their things to animal rescues.”

  “I don’t like it. How did they get your name? You’re still in the plotting and planning stages. You haven’t even decided on a name for your rescue yet. Only a handful of people know about your plans. You don’t need handouts from a stranger. When you figure it all out, I’ll help you buy whatever you need.” Trent’s jaw set in sheer stubbornness and she reminded herself he wasn’t an asshole.

  He worried about her safety. At any other time, he wouldn’t be so hardheaded. She placed her hand on his cheek and leaned up to kiss the scowl from his mouth.

  He took her kiss in a hungry tangle of desire. Their mouths dined on each other until they broke away, gasping for air. She stood on tiptoe and touched her nose and forehead to his.

  “Everything will be fine. You’re taking this protector thing a little too seriously.”

  “Never.” He took her hand in his then, as if thinking better of it, let it go and settled for tucking her close behind him to keep his hands free as they walked across the deserted parking lot. Only buckled blacktop and a faded blue sedan parked near the front entrance greeted them.

  Nudging him with her shoulder, she said, “I can’t see anything beyond the moving brick wall in front of me. Do you mind?”

  “Yes. I mind. If you can’t see around me, chances are no one can see you. I don’t like this. Are you forgetting that someone took a shot at you the night of the fire? Then someone set fire to your home, with you in it. A few days later, your ex-husband was found murdered and the blame placed on me.”

  “No. I haven’t.” She’d never forget the sight of Trent in handcuffs. Logically, she knew she wasn’t to blame, but it didn’t make her feel any less guilty.

  “We should have waited for Rick.” How he managed to sound part pouting toddler and part alert soldier, she’d never know, but he managed it.

  “He’ll be here soon with the other truck. I think he made another secret trip to Riley Creek. He said he’d catch up with us here. The vet’s son only had a couple of ho
urs to spare this morning, and I don’t want to try his patience. His offer of supplies is too good to pass up. I want as many of the kennels as we can haul. What do you think Rick’s doing to the old Caudill place today? Leigh told me that an anonymous donor paid to have the electric turned on and prepaid three months service. She stopped by to drop off another small care package and found a notice from the electric company on the door.” She smoothed her palm over the small of his back.

  “Idiot’s already taken care of the water, so he’s probably having the AC unit replaced. He was mumbling something about asshole-copper-wire-thieves a few days ago. His words, not mine. So, it looks like she’s been returning?” Tension rolled off Trent in waves as they crossed the small lot.

  “Yes. Leigh said that someone has definitely been taking advantage of the food and water they’ve left. The clothes and personal items have been used too. According to Leigh, she’s a stealthy little thing. She and Rick have each separately made a couple of trips out there, but they’ve never caught a single glimpse of her. Poor kid. I can’t imagine. Dad and I might not have had much but he was always, always there for me. He would have worked three jobs to feed me if need be.” Even after all this time, she missed her father so much.

  “You’d be surprised how resilient children can be. It’s unfortunate as hell, but kids in bad situations learn how to take care of themselves so much younger than they should have to.” The soft regret in his voice reminded her that he’d been born to a situation only slightly better than Leigh’s little ragamuffin.

  “I’m sorry. I’m always dredging up bad memories for you. Just call me Mary Sunshine.” She touched his shoulder in apology.

  “It was a really long time ago. You had nothing to do with the fact that there are skeletons in my closet. Don’t guard your words because there’ve been a few rough patches in my life.”

  Rough patches? Skeletons? Damn stubborn man. She wanted to argue that a murder rap was an awfully big skeleton and, if it hadn’t been for her, his closet would be significantly less crowded. He’d just wave it off as no big deal.