by Em Petrova
“You’re most welcome to.”
Boone saw a friend in the foreman…but he also figured he could get him talking easy enough, maybe wring some information from him about the billionaire and his wife.
“Come by when you can, and I’ll be happy to show you around the stables too.” He turned and pointed across the rolling land to the large white structure that butted up against a good-sized paddock.
After a thorough tour of the property on foot, they jumped in a Jeep and headed out to the oil rig. He met the guards and talked shop for a bit. But he was eager to return to the house…to check on Lauralee, but also to have a longer look at those security screens.
He hadn’t seen a hint of Mrs. Black’s presence on the ranch, and Black most definitely wasn’t granting her privacy. No, there would be cameras on the woman.
Question now was how to get past the systems the billionaire had set in place and reach her.
* * * * *
Lauralee’s first job had been scraping gum off the bottom of stadium seats after football games. Picking up the odd piece of trash had broken up the monotony of the work. And the best moments were finding a dropped dollar bill and pocketing it.
Between high school and her college graduation, she’d held various other summer jobs—making pizzas or asking what kind of sauce they wanted with their nuggets. One blissful summer in her junior year of college she’d worked in the university library dusting and rearranging books in the air conditioning.
Then her internship, and now WEST Protection.
But she’d never, ever in her life pictured herself as a domestic worker. Her shower at home in Stone Pass had soap scum. She had shirts with stains she never could remove. She wasn’t good at any of the tasks the housekeeper gave her today, and to top it off, she didn’t know how to gossip.
Break room lunches sent her into a tizzy. She preferred to eat behind her computer screen. So getting dumped into a household of a housekeeper, two other housemaids and a kitchen maid who gossiped like it was their life’s work made her far from comfortable.
But she had a goal—find out anything she could about Black’s wife. In the five hours she’d worked, she’d put away a delivery of groceries and polished all the chair legs in the entire house, by her guess. She also knew the lawn boy had slept with the cook’s daughter when she came to visit. And that the cook took offense to them sneaking around under her nose and threatened to lop off the boy’s dick with her meat cleaver.
There were half a dozen other tales Lauralee overheard that made her question if she was too sheltered, both growing up and as an adult. Maybe she should get out from behind her computer screen more often and live. She didn’t have sordid tales to relate.
Nor did she want any. She enjoyed her routine life, though running off to be married on a moment’s notice wasn’t exactly ordinary, was it?
Her feet were killing her. So was her lower back. She felt sticky and the scent of furniture polish lingered in the depths of her sinuses so it was all she could smell.
Until she opened the door of the bedroom she shared with her new husband and caught a whiff of his cologne.
Across the room, he stood stripping off his shirt, which didn’t look nearly wrinkled enough for him to have done actual work.
She slammed the door, and he shot her a smile.
A smile. Damn the man for looking so good despite the extreme stress they were both under.
Or maybe he wasn’t really stressed by pretending to be someone else in order to steal Black’s wife out from under his nose.
“Hard day at work, honey?” He dropped the shirt to the bed.
Her stupid eyes wanted to drop to his bare chest. His bare, chiseled, very muscular, gorgeous chest that sported a tattoo of a horseshoe with a wreath of flowers hanging off it and another on his shoulder.
She jerked her gaze to his face, but that wasn’t better, since he wore a cocky grin.
“Why do you still look all fresh and perky?” she snapped at him.
He shrugged.
She could barely lift her feet as she crossed to the bed. “I’m a nerd, not a laborer.” With that declaration, she fell face down on the bed.
“Awww, poor Lauralee.” His drawl edged under her last nerve and pried it up, kicking and screaming.
She twisted her face to flatten him with a look. Then she flipped over. “Are you looking at my ass?”
The set of his striking jaw and the burning depths of his amber eyes left no question that he’d been doing exactly that.
“Stop it!” She heaved herself upward using the last of her energy.
“Stop what? You said don’t lay a hand on you. You didn’t say anything about eyes.”
Flustered, she ripped her hair out of the tight bun on the back of her head. The pins had been digging into her scalp for hours, and she’d wanted to snatch them out countless times.
She tossed the pins down on the mattress and glowered at Boone. At least before she swallowed her tongue.
He unzipped his fly and started to slide his pants down his body.
Dear heavens. And right behind it: He’s muscled…everywhere.
She threw out her hand to stop him. “What are you doing?”
He flashed a grin and let his trousers drop, exposing boxer briefs in a deep gray color. “Getting changed, my pretty l’il wife. You should too so you can come with me.”
Her eyes bulged. “Where?”
“Riding.”
“I haven’t ridden since I was fifteen.” She hooked her arm behind her back to feel along her spine for the zipper of the ugliest garment in Wyoming.
“It’s not something you forget. Like riding a bike.” He watched her twist her arms at odd angles and practically dislocate her elbow in order to catch the zipper.
“Here, let me help you out of that uniform.”
Lordy. Did her stomach have to dip at his words? It wasn’t as if Boone was asking her to undress so they could do something.
Like consummate the marriage.
She groaned, but not because she was trapped in the dress.
His eyes danced as he tugged her to her aching feet and turned her around. When he very gently brushed her hair over one shoulder to get at her zipper, goosebumps broke out from neck to knees, leaving her sweatier. Worse—her nipples were very much alive and aware of Boone’s hands skimming her spine as he slowly lowered the zipper.
Warmth enveloped her earlobe, and she melted at the feel of the man’s lips at her ear. “You’re free, Lauralee.”
Far from it—he’d struck chords in her body she’d never played before. Her breath came faster, and her nipples were still two hard, aching buds that betrayed her reaction to him.
When he didn’t move his lips away, she dragged in a breath. “Boone…”
Why wasn’t he moving? Why didn’t she want him to? This was insane—they were only married on paper. They weren’t obligated to do things like…touch.
His hot breath skated over her ear and landed on her neck. Her breath caught, and her lungs were bursting with the need to release a much too girly gasp.
He slowly moved his hand down her spine and curled it around her hip. Excitement exploded in her lower belly, and liquid heat pooled even lower. But when Boone dropped a tender kiss on her neck, she issued that sordid rasp she’d been holding back.
“Boone!”
“Mmm.” He moved his mouth, gliding it around her neck and then back to her earlobe.
“What are you…” Her eyes rolled back in her head as he drew on her neck in a sucking little pull. The cleft of her buttocks bumped something, and she realized with a shock that it was Boone’s erection, growing hard against her ass.
“You had me twisted up all day at the sight of you in this little dress.”
Her lungs cut off and she expelled a raspy laugh. “This dress? I look like a cross between an airline stewardess and a bad episode of Gilligan’s Island!”
His laugh rumbled over his lips, down her neck
, twisted both nipples and then delved between her legs. Her pussy clenched at the deep sound.
“I like your mind, Lauralee.”
“You…act like you hate me.”
He paused in kneading lower on her hip. “Hate? Not at all. Do you hate me?”
How could she when he was leaving blazing kisses on the side of her neck, flipping her hair to the other side to gain access to all the spots he hadn’t kissed yet? Her insides wobbled.
“Did I…” she panted, “inhale too many fumes from the furniture polish?”
That rumble of his chuckle came again, but then he clutched her hips and yanked her flush against his very hard body.
Leaving her no question as to how big he was…everywhere.
“Don’t tell me you don’t like me too. At least a little?”
“I…” Her mind blanked on all the things she should say about him being egotistical and a great kisser. And cocky, with too much swagger and a very large cock.
Using his grip on her hips, he spun her to face him. Could she even look at him? If he was mocking her, she’d die.
His rough knuckle settled under her chin, and he raised her head to meet his gaze. His eyes burned down at her with enough desire in them to shock the sense right out of her.
“A little,” she whispered.
“Enough to put your arms around my neck?”
She bit down on her lower lip. “Maybe.” She eased them upward, and he encircled her wrists with his big hands and guided her arms around his neck. She zeroed in on his hard lips.
“Do you like me enough to lean into me?”
A shiver stroked through her, along with his words. Without willing her body to move, she swayed toward his body heat. Her throbbing nipples met his chest.
He seemed to vibrate with some hidden energy source. “How about enough to kiss me?” he grated out.
God help her, she couldn’t resist the man. There was nothing fake about what her body begged her to do.
Which was to go onto tiptoe, brace herself against him and lift her lips for his kiss.
He ducked his head and claimed her mouth. There was also nothing gentle about the crush of his mouth over hers or how he prodded her onto the very tips of her toes to meet every pass of his tongue through her mouth.
Her body felt scorched. So dumb to let him kiss her. Even stupider of her to respond. She had no clue what was taking over her body or why it was betraying her this way with a man she’d never in a million years intended to kiss.
She moaned when he flicked his tongue over hers. He tasted minty and smelled of the cologne that was driving her crazier by the second.
Heart pounding, she clung to him, her whole body quaking.
When he glided his hand upward and stopped short of closing his palm around her breast, he tore away from the kiss. His ragged breathing told her he was as affected as she was.
“Christ, Lauralee. You have no idea how you look right now.”
Her chest heaved. “How do I…look?”
“Your lips are all swollen. You’re flushed and your eyes are on fire. You’re looking all soft…like you want me to tear off this dress you hate and make this marriage official.”
Her stomach tumbled.
As he ducked his head and latched his mouth to her throat again, she curled her hand around his nape and pulled him in for more. Whatever was happening between them had no rational explanation. He barely looked her way. They’d exchanged very few words since the day she started at WEST Protection, and those they had traded were usually shots fired.
Either Black had drugged him, or he actually had been thinking about her in this dress all day, though she couldn’t fathom why. She really looked pasty and awful, and it was a bit too snug around her hips.
Her inner monologue ran to a halt as he lifted his mouth off her skin once more. “Are you on the pill, honey?”
She stilled. The brakes slammed inside her mind long before her body caught up to the momentum. She dropped her hands to his chest and pushed him away.
“We’re not going there, buddy.”
He raised his head, and though his eyes still blazed, he chuckled. “You’re right. Plenty of time for our honeymoon later.”
Chapter Five
Being in the saddle helped clear Boone’s head—but not much.
If Lauralee drew her horse ahead of his, all he could see was that sweet ass of hers bouncing in the saddle. She had him twisted up in knots, and he hadn’t puzzled out how he’d gone from indifferent to wanting her in the course of a day.
A band of platinum encircling his finger caused a chain reaction inside him—made him protective first and then hungry for something he shouldn’t want to touch.
Maybe that was the problem. That hands-off forbidden don’t-sleep-with-your-employee boundary felt like a challenge to a man like him, who lived for loopholes and would scale every barbed wire fence in Montana to get where he was going.
She gripped the reins with perfect ease and bounced with the horse’s trot as they explored the trail. They passed through high grasses and stands of white birch trees. The burble of water reached him. Sooner or later, they’d be crossing a creek.
When he spurred his mount to close the gap so Boone wasn’t staring at her ass caressing leather anymore, he caught sight of her breasts bouncing.
Not better.
His cock had never fully drained of blood, and his veins still pulsed with desire. She’d spoken in monosyllables to him as they walked out to the stables, met with Flaherty and saddled up.
Boone needed to break the tension and say something to her.
I shouldn’t have touched you.
But he wanted more. And so did she, judging by the small looks she threw him and the way she worried her bottom lip with her teeth.
In simple jeans and a white blouse knotted at the waist, hair flowing down her back, she looked like the country girl he never expected her to be. Tech guru, yes. Smart beyond her years, sure. But this surprised him.
The fading afternoon sun kissed her skin, revealing even more freckles and illuminating the silver chips in her gray eyes.
She was pretty, he admitted for the first time.
Add in sexy, responsive and one hell of a kisser and no wonder he’d lost control. Without being his type at all, she actually ticked all the boxes on his mental list. He typically went for bold women because they knew how to handle his advances.
But Lauralee had risen to his demands and taken him out of the driver’s seat with a few soft moans.
Ross would kick his ass if he found out Boone toyed with her. But what the hell did his brother expect, throwing him into a marriage and then telling him to share a bed with her while keeping his hands to himself?
He grunted. His brother didn’t know him very well, did he? The WEST Protection team held enough “meetings” at the strip club that Ross should know by now that Boone liked women, and they liked him back.
Easing his mount up next to Lauralee’s, he studied her profile for a heartbeat before speaking. “There’s a small room to control the security system and monitor the grounds.”
She met his stare. “Monitors for every camera?”
“Yes.”
“How many in total?”
“At least two dozen, maybe more.”
“What else can you tell me about the security? How hard would it be to hack the passcodes?” she asked.
“You’d know that better than me.”
She changed tactic. “How many have access to the passcodes?”
“A few of us guards, but not all. The security around this place makes the ranch look like it’s fair ground for trespassers. We definitely trust people a hell of a lot more than Black does.” He led the horse around some rock and back on the trail.
“The servant named Anna asked me a ton of questions about us. I was so freaked out that I’d slip, and she’d catch me in a lie. I had to talk you up much more than I ever thought I would have to.”
He
chuckled. “That gets stuck in your craw, doesn’t it?”
“Don’t pretend you enjoyed holding my hand so much or giving me dopey looks.”
That had another laugh rumbling through his chest, but fact was, he had only thought to protect the woman who was as much in his care in this place as any real wife would be. Lauralee might be helping with the case, but she required protection from the many unseen dangers of being undercover in such an operation.
“Did you find out anything about the wife?” Her question brought him back to the conversation.
The jangle of harnesses and creak of leather provided a pleasant backdrop of sound to their conversation. “Nothing yet. You?”
“The staff like to gossip, so I’m hopeful someone might slip. But no, I didn’t hear anything yet.” She absently moved her hair over one shoulder, exposing her white throat to his view.
What he saw punched him in the gut—the pink marks on her pale flesh where his five o’clock shadow had abraded her skin when he sucked on her neck.
Hell, he’d marked her without realizing it. But one glance had him achingly hard all over again. He searched for a cozy spot to tumble her into the high grass and slake this lust once and for all, but her eyes narrowed on his face.
“Stop looking at me that way.”
“Can’t help it.”
“Well try.” She looked straight ahead between the horse’s sandy-colored ears. Her mount was surefooted and graceful, with willowy legs made for racing. But its slender build also made it more susceptible to injury if it got a hoof hung up between rocks and took a fall. He didn’t want to think about how Black would handle such an event. The last thing they needed was to owe the man.
“Back to the system.” She cut a glance at him. “What’s the authentication like? How many are granted access?”
“At least two of us—me and the night guy who babysits it all while I’m asleep. And Black himself, I’m sure.”
“Not that lump Thornburne?”
His lips twitched at her description of him, which matched his impression as well.
“I don’t think so. He’s hired for his strength, not his skill or brains.”