by Elle James
Still, Viper blamed himself. He should have been there for them. Or at the very least, he should have waited to have children until he could be home to care for both his wife and child.
A hand on his arm made him look down. Dallas’s slender fingers brushed his sleeve, sending warmth through his arm and chest.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He shrugged off her hand. The last thing he needed was sympathy. He didn’t deserve it. “No worries. It’s been a few years.” Yet, he still hadn’t gotten over the sense of loss and guilt.
“Well, since you two are officially on board, I’ll get back to the ranch and have my computer guy dig into all the backgrounds of anyone we can come up with who might have it out for one of our lucky couples.”
“Start with people having anything to do with the planning and setup,” Viper said.
“You might also check on anyone local who could have been jilted or stood up before the ceremony,” Dallas said.
Viper gave half a smile. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?”
“Or a man,” Dallas added. “Men can be just as cranky about being left at the altar as women.”
“You know this from experience?”
Dallas’s green eyes flashed. “I read.”
Viper chuckled. “I’m betting you don’t indulge in bride magazines.”
“Never.” Grimacing, Dallas shook her head. “My tastes lean toward news and crime fiction.”
“So, you know all the best places to hide the bodies,” Hank said.
Viper raised his eyebrows. “Should I be worried?”
“Only if you scorn me.” Dallas’s lips quirked.
If Viper wasn’t mistaken, Dallas almost smiled. He liked the sparkle in her green eyes, so different from Emily’s blue-gray eyes. And the fiery auburn hair was a stark contrast to Emily’s golden blond. And Dallas was taller, stronger and less ladylike than Emily. All of her physical traits made Viper’s agreement to the charade easier.
If Dallas had looked at all like Emily, Viper would have politely declined the assignment and asked for someone else to take his place. Having a blond-haired, blue-eyed partner would have been a constant reminder of what he’d lost and that he hadn’t been there for Emily to keep her from dying.
Dallas was as different from Emily as night from day. He could treat her like one of the guys. No sweat.
As long as he ignored the little spark of electricity that shot through him every time he touched her. Why that happened, he wasn’t sure. From what Viper gathered, Dallas was all Army Ranger. She was one kickass soldier, and she’d rather shoot a man than kiss him.
As much as he didn’t want to admit the fact, the shine of her fiery, auburn hair and the flash of her green eyes were sexy as hell. Not his type, but definitely sexy. His type had been Emily…blond and blue.
Now…he didn’t know what his type was.
His gaze swept over Dallas’s shiny auburn hair, her athletic figure and the way she wore her jeans. Having a prosthetic device in place of her lower leg did nothing to detract from her raw sexuality. And the kicker was, she didn’t know just how sexy she was.
Viper’s groin tightened. He hadn’t been attracted to anyone over the past few years. Not with the weight of guilt and regret sitting on his shoulders. Perhaps it was Dallas’s background, her time in the military and her dedication to her training that made him look at her twice. She was a fighter, having proven it by qualifying for Ranger Training and completing it successfully.
He argued with himself that he admired her for her gumption. But gumption wasn’t what made his cock swell and his hands itch to push the strand of coppery hair back behind her ear.
One of the guys, my ass.
Perhaps he was in for more of a challenge than he’d originally anticipated. Either way, he had work to do and a boss to prove himself to. “Let’s get this wedding planning going.”
Dallas nodded. “Yeah. The sooner we find our wedding saboteur, the sooner we can move on to a more palatable assignment.” She clapped her hands together. “So, where do we start?”
Viper turned to Hank. “Is Sadie available for consultation this afternoon?”
“Her schedule is open, and she’s ready to meet with you.” Hank gave Viper and Dallas a narrow-eyed glance. “As far as anyone knows, the pair of you are a couple. Only you two, me, Swede and Sadie know what we’re planning. The fewer people who know, the less likely we’ll let it slip that this engagement is a setup.” He looked from Viper to Dallas and back. “Got it?”
Viper snapped a salute. “Yes, sir.”
Dallas lifted her chin. “I’m in.”
Hank held out his hand. “Welcome to the Brotherhood Protectors.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, casting a quick glance down at her jean-clad prosthetic leg.
“Absolutely certain,” Hank responded, his gaze never leaving Dallas’s.
Viper watched as Dallas took Hank’s hand, and they shook.
“Thank you,” she said.
With that handshake, Viper had a partner. He hoped they could make this assignment work. It was his proving ground with Hank. Plus, he needed the work. So far, the Brotherhood Protectors gig was the only one he’d found using the skills he’d gained over his many years in the service. Where else could he carry a gun, fight for right and protect the good people of his country?
* * *
She had a job. A real job. Not the kind of job she’d envisioned for herself, but one she’d do her best to get right.
Pretending to be a blushing bride wasn’t something in her comfort zone, but then she’d been outside her comfort zone on numerous occasions and survived.
Hopefully, swimming in tulle and taffeta would be a piece of cake. A shiver slipped down her spine. Even in high school, she’d opted out of going to the prom. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a dress.
The Army had tried to make her wear a skirt, but she’d chosen the tailored slacks to go with her Class A uniform. Besides, she’d rarely worn a pair of high heels.
“I’ll let you two get acquainted.” Hank strode toward the door. When he reached it, he paused and turned back. “Oh, and I suggest you go down to the courthouse in Eagle Rock and apply for a wedding license. You want to make this engagement appear as real as possible.”
Dallas bit down hard on her tongue to keep from gasping. “License?”
Hank nodded. “We don’t know at what point the Tango is tipped off about the wedding. We might have to take the act from the beginning, through the actual ceremony, and all the way to the airport on your way to your honeymoon, if we don’t catch him sooner.”
Of course, they had to put on a show for whomever was targeting brides and grooms in the area.
Viper’s throat worked as he swallowed before he spoke. “Roger.”
“Now, get to know each other,” Hank ordered. “You’ll run into people asking you about how you met, what’s her favorite flower and color, and when you knew you were in love. Come up with a good story and agree on the details. Your relationship has to appear real, or our guy might not take the bait.” Hank glanced at Dallas. “Sadie will get with you this afternoon to make arrangements to shop tomorrow.”
“Shop?” Dallas said weakly.
“What’s the saying? Gird your loins. Sadie’s really good at shopping, and she can last for hours. If shopping was an Olympic event, she’d win gold every time.”
Dallas waited for Hank to leave and close the door behind him before she let loose the groan she’d been holding back.
“What’s wrong?” Viper asked.
Dallas turned a sideways glance his way. “I hate shopping.”
He chuckled. “You have to be the first woman I’ve met who hates shopping. We’ll get along just fine.” He patted the table in front of him. “We’d better start now. If we’re learning everything about each other in the next twelve hours, we’ll have to make the minutes count.”
“Okay, but wouldn’t this
process be easier over food?” Dallas didn’t wait for his response. She strode for the refrigerator, yanked it open, and spotted the leftover barbeque trays from the night before. “Feel like a sandwich? There’s leftover brisket from the wedding reception.”
“I’ll help.” Viper jumped up from the table and joined her at the counter.
Dallas found a package of hamburger buns and pulled out two, while Viper hefted the loaded tray of brisket from the refrigerator.
“Mayo or barbeque sauce?” Viper asked.
“No mayo, but mustard instead of sauce,” Dallas said.
“My fiancée likes mustard.”
Hearing him call her his fiancée had a strange effect. Her chest tightened and her belly fluttered at the same time. She opened the buns and laid them each on a plate and then handed them over to Viper. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Green,” he said, as if automatically. “Not because of the color of your eyes, though it fits for the purpose of the operation.”
She handed him a knife and fished the mustard out of the refrigerator. “Then why green?”
He smiled as he pulled the foil off the tray. “I like the color green because it reminds me of spring and summer, when everything is fresh and growing. I also like green for the evergreen trees that are green even when they’re buried in snow. I know they’re still alive and growing beneath the cold flocking. What about you?”
“Blue,” she said and laughed. “Not because of the color of your eyes. Though, again, my preference works for our operation. I like blue because it’s the color of a clear sky in the daylight. If I can see the sky, I’m not imprisoned, I’m not in a cave and I’m not dead. Sunlight and blue skies make me happy.”
He glanced sideways, capturing her gaze. “You don’t like the dark?”
“Not so much.” Hesitant to share her reason, Dallas turned away. She’d lost her team and her leg in the dark. She’d almost lost her life in the dark.
A hand on her shoulder startled her, and she looked back.
Viper stood behind her, his eyebrows lowered. “What happened? How did you lose your leg?” He gave her half a smile. “You might as well tell me and get it over with. I’ll have to know in case someone asks. No groom could marry a woman without knowing her story.”
Dallas drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Can we do your story first? I want to eat while I have an appetite.”
“Sure.” He went back to work making sandwiches. “I’m thirty-eight years old. Six-feet-four. I served for twenty years in the Army, eighteen of which was with Delta Force. I retired at the rank of Sergeant Major. I’ve deployed more times than I could count on one hand.”
Dallas hadn’t realized just how remarkable Viper’s military record was. She laid two bottles of soda and a package of potato chips on the table. She drew in a deep breath and launched. “I’m twenty-eight, five-feet-six and I served ten years, the last four as a Ranger. I’m one of the first seven females to successfully complete the US Army Ranger School. I lost my leg on a mission and was medically retired at the rank of Staff Sergeant.”
“I’m impressed. Not many women can do what you did.” Viper brought the two plates of sandwiches, setting one in front of her and the other across the table. Then he held out her chair.
Dallas, always the tomboy, the woman who no man fucked with, stared at him and then the chair.
Viper’s lips twisted. “You might as well get used to it. I treat my woman like a lady.”
She frowned. “I’m not that kind of woman.”
“But you are female, and my mama taught me to respect all females—big, small, short, tall, young or old.” He held the chair, challenging her with a raised eyebrow. “You wouldn’t want me to disappoint my mama, now would you? Besides, I would hold a chair and open doors for any bride of mine. The gesture’s non-negotiable.”
Dallas crossed her arms over her chest. “What if I said not holding chairs and not opening doors was non-negotiable for me?”
“I guess we’d be at an impasse. But for this operation, we need to appear in sync. We’re supposed to be in love. We’re about to get married. I need to show the world how much I care for you, and you need to show the world how much you love that I do.” He retained the cocked eyebrow, staring straight into her eyes, unflinching.
“You’re not backing down on this, are you?” Dallas asked softly, knowing his answer.
“No, ma’am. My mama scares me a lot more than you do.” Then he winked and grinned.
Butterflies erupted in Dallas’s belly, and warmth spread throughout her body. No man had ever winked at her like that. She wasn’t quite sure how to react. For one, she had to pick the right battles. This argument was not one of them. So…she sat. “Don’t think you won that one.”
“But I did, didn’t I?”
“Only for the sake of the mission,” Dallas grumbled.
“I’ll take it.” He sat across the table and lifted his bottle of soda toward her. “To our upcoming wedding.”
Dallas lifted hers and touched her bottle to his. “To catching a sadistic bastard.” Glass clinked and they both knocked back half of their bottles before setting them on the table again.
Viper dug into the sandwich. Dallas ate hers with the quiet, quick efficiency of one who didn’t get a lot of time to eat meals in the Army. When she got food, she gobbled it down and chased it with potato chips and soda. She found eating easier than telling her story.
Viper wasn’t far behind her. When he finished his sandwich and soda, he gathered their plates and carried them to the sink. “I’ll wash if you’ll dry.”
Dallas found a dry dish towel and positioned herself beside Viper at the sink he’d filled with warm soapy water. “Did your mother teach you how to wash dishes?” she asked.
He washed a plate and then rinsed it. “No. I learned that skill on my own. Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t live my entire Army life in the barracks. I had an apartment for much of my active duty time, though I didn’t see it much. I had to clean a dish or two out of self-preservation. And I was married, at one time. When I was home, I didn’t leave all the work to my wife.”
“Gallant of you.” Dallas dried the plate and set it in the cabinet. “So, you know how to wash dishes. What else do you have going for you in husband material?”
“I’m good at fixing things. I’m handy with computers and electronic devices. I can cook, when I need to, and, as you’ve noticed, I open doors for the ladies in my life.”
Dallas nodded. “So far, so good.” Getting to know a man was new to her. She’d never dated in high school or cared to get close enough to anyone she worked with. Strangely, she enjoyed learning more about Viper.
“What about you?” Viper handed her a dish to dry. “What have you got going for you in the wife department?”
She held the plate, refusing to meet his gaze. “Sadly…not much. I was raised by my father to be tough. We ran marathons when we weren’t hunting or fishing.”
“Sounds like the perfect woman, to me. What guy doesn’t like a companion when he’s out in the woods?”
Her lips pressed together and she shook her head. “Most guys. Hunting is a very individual sport. Most hunters like to get out in the woods alone and commune with nature.” She shrugged. “Must be the introvert in us.”
“Maybe. Or you just enjoy nature. What did you hunt?”
“Deer and elk. The occasional grouse or pheasant.” She shrugged. “I took my rifle or shotgun and my camera.” At the memory, she smiled. “I liked taking pictures more than bringing home a trophy.”
“And fishing?”
She laughed. “I bring home all the fish I can eat. I love baked, broiled, fried and grilled fish. And I love even more to head out with a rod and reel and spend quiet hours along the shore of a river, casting my line to see what I’ll catch.” She smiled. “Most times, I don’t catch a thing. That’s okay with me, too.”
“Ever been dancing?” Viper asked.
&nbs
p; She took a plate from him, shaking her head. “Never. I have two left feet.” She rubbed the dish dry.
“Obviously, you’ve never had the right dance partner.” Viper plucked the plate from her hand and set it on the counter. “You’ll need to learn how to waltz for the wedding dance.”
“Waltz?” She recoiled. “What did you not understand about I have two left feet? Or rather, I have one left foot.”
“Again, you never had the right partner. You appear to get around fine on what you have. Trust me…you can learn to dance.” He took her right hand in his and rested his left hand on her hip. “It’s easy if you get the rhythm down. Just remember 1-2-3, 1-2-3.” He tapped his toe in time to the numbers. “Now you move like this…” He stepped back a little and looked down at his feet, moving them to the beat of his, “1-2-3.” Then he glanced up. “You try.”
She shook her head, her feet firmly planted on the tile. “I can’t. I don’t have a musical bone in my body.”
“Then put your feet on mine and move with me.”
She frowned at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all. Go ahead, you won’t kill me.”
“But I’m not a little girl.”
“No, but you have to learn one way or another.”
“I can’t feel my foot, remember?” she argued, humiliation building inside. With the one emotion came another…anger.
“Just put your feet on top of mine. I’ll show you how it feels to move to the rhythm of the waltz.” Viper’s grip tightened on her hand and around her waist. “On my feet, Ranger,” he commanded.
Dallas hesitated another moment.
“What’s wrong, Dallas?” He stared into her eyes, unflinching. “Are you afraid?”
Dallas’s back stiffened. “No way.”
“Then show me you can do this.” He pulled her closer, forcing her to move her feet. “Go on,” he urged, his breath mingling with hers. “You won’t hurt me.”
