Keeping Guard

by Sandra Owens

  “I’m rather fond of that part of me, sugar.”

  Robert’s people had found her, and this was the day she was going to die. Rachel Denning refused to make it easy on Robert Hargrove’s henchman, though. She stomped on his foot, but because she was barefoot and he wore boots, that was about as effective as slapping his face with a feather.

  A fight scene from a previous movie where the villain had her in a similar hold flashed through her mind. In the scene, she’d gotten away by slamming the back of her head into his nose.

  The problem with that scenario was that this man was a good head taller than her, so no way she could reach his nose. His chin, maybe, but it was worth a try, better than doing nothing. She leaned her head forward, then slammed it back as hard as she could, taking satisfaction when he grunted. Unfortunately, the stunt worked better in the movie.

  “Easy, wildcat. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Yeah, right, and unicorns existed. “Let go of me.” He wouldn’t, she knew asking was futile, but it was all she had. He was stronger than she and had her in a hold she couldn’t escape.

  Keeping one arm around her, he reached for the light switch, and she blinked against the sudden brightness. Then he lifted her right off her feet as if she weighed less than a bag of potatoes, carried her to the bed, and dropped her. Facedown on the rumpled cover, she waited for the blow...or whatever he planned to do to her. Oh, God, what if he raped her?

  No, she wasn’t going to wait around to find out what he planned to do. She flipped to her back, her gaze searching for a weapon. When she’d arrived at the cabin, she’d gone out and found a tree branch, wanting something handy to protect herself if she had to. She should have brought the whole damn tree in.

  She had a knife from the kitchen under her pillow. She hadn’t started with that because she’d thought she would have a better chance with the branch. Her plan had been simple. Bash him upside the head and when he was out cold, tie him up, then disappear.

  If she could get to the knife, maybe she could hurt him enough to escape. Keeping her attention on the man, she inched her hand toward the pillow. His gaze followed her hand before shifting back to her.

  “You got a knife under there? Go ahead, wildcat. See if you can get to it before I have you in my arms again.” A smirk curved his lips. “Been a while since I’ve had this much fun.”

  Something wasn’t right. The man wasn’t acting like a killer. The men who worked for Robert were as cruel as he. They didn’t tease, and if they called her anything besides her name, it would be bitch. They especially didn’t smile as if they really were having fun. If he was one of Robert’s men, wouldn’t he just kill her and be done with it?

  Now that she could study this man, he...well, first to get it out of the way, he was gorgeous in a rough bad boy kind of way. A trimmed beard, more like a few days of scruff really, covered his face. A fresh scar ran from the corner of his right eye and down his cheek before disappearing into his beard. She almost cringed at seeing how close he’d come to losing an eye.

  No, she wasn’t giving him her sympathy, not when he was here to hurt her. Yet his eyes weren’t mean or cold. The only thing she could see in them was curiosity as he stared back at her. They were pretty eyes, though. Hazel, the kind that would change with the color of shirt he wore or his emotions. His dark brown hair in need of a haircut scraped across the neck of his T-shirt. Then there was a body worth drooling over.

  Stop it, Rachel. Stop noticing how hot he is. She was totally stupid for letting her mind wander when there was danger in the room. Because, while he was a feast for the eyes, she had no doubt the man could be dangerous when he wanted. Still, he wasn’t emitting dangerous vibes at the moment, and that confused her.

  “What do you want from me?”

  His gaze slid over her body, those hazel eyes heating. “I have some ideas if you’re interested in hearing them.”

  There was that smirk again, and she had the distinct feeling that he was toying with her, that he was amused. Not at all how a man Robert would have sent would be acting. Also, that heated stare reminded her that she was wearing nothing but an almost transparent white T-shirt and purple panties. She grabbed the corner of the quilt and pulled it over her. Certain it would take at least a week for Robert to find her, and she planned to be long gone by then, she’d worn her favorite sleep shirt to bed. She should have slept fully dressed, and she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  He laughed. “Too late, wildcat.” He pointed to his head. “Pretty in purple is already imprinted in here.”

  Best to ignore that comment. “Did Robert send you?”

  “Who’s Robert?”

  It was weird, but she wasn’t feeling threatened by him anymore...well, still a little, but not like when he’d first walked into the room in the dark. It was her first night here, and used to the night noises of LA, she’d been unsettled by the silence. It hadn’t bothered her when she’d stayed here while attending Nichole and Jack’s wedding, but she hadn’t been someone’s target then. This time, every creak the cabin made shot her nerves through the roof.

  When she’d heard the front door as he’d closed it behind him, heard footsteps coming down the hallway, she’d thought her heart was going to stop. She hadn’t known how Robert had found her so fast, but she wasn’t going to go easy. That was what she’d thought, anyway, but in seconds, the man had shown her how unprepared and helpless she’d been.

  His answer penetrated her mind. “Robert. The man who sent you.”

  “I don’t know a Robert, and no one sent me.”

  “Who are you?”

  He lifted his brows. “Who are you, and what are you doing in Jack’s cabin?”

  “You know Jack?”

  “The question is, do you?” He glanced around. “You needed a place to stay...” Shrewd eyes landed back on her. “Maybe a place to hide out from this Robert person, so you broke in?”

  “I did not break in,” she said, affronted. Well, she kind of had, but not in the way he was insinuating. “Tell me something about Jack that proves you know him.”

  “Easy. He has a dog, Dakota. Jack was his team’s dog handler until he and Dakota were hurt by a roadside bomb.”

  That was true. She supposed Robert could have found that out, but there would be no reason to pass that particular information on to his men. She still wasn’t going to turn her back on this man, but she didn’t believe he was here to hurt her.

  “Now, back to you. If I call Jack and ask if he knows...what did you say your name was again?”

  “Nice try, cowboy.” There was that amusement again. Why? Because she’d called him a cowboy? He did make her think of one with those cowboy boots and that belt buckle with a bucking horse on it.

  “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours, wildcat.”

  “That’s fair, I guess, but only first names. I’m Rachel.”

  He tipped an imaginary hat. “Dallas at your service, Miss Rachel.”

  Jeez, the man even had a sexy cowboy name. “Okay, Dallas, if Robert didn’t send you, why are you here?” And please don’t say you’re planning to stay.

  “Same game. I’ll tell you why if you reciprocate.” Dallas sighed when she pressed her lips together, clearly having no intention of sharing.

  He didn’t know what to make of the woman. She was obviously afraid of this Robert person. An abusive boyfriend, he guessed, and that didn’t sit well. She’d also obviously broken into Jack’s cabin, but he wouldn’t kick her out in the middle of the night or report her to Jack...at least, not yet. Tomorrow, he’d figure out what to do about her.

  What he didn’t appreciate was that the image of her in those purple panties and a T-shirt so thin that he could see the outline of her nipples was imprinted in his mind. Long legs, honey-blond hair and golden-brown eyes the color of Macallan—his favorite whiskey—did nothing to dim
the desire that had shot through him as his gaze had roamed over her.

  The intent had been to unnerve her, but the joke was on him. Purple might be his new favorite color, and that pissed him off. He didn’t need an irresistible wildcat in his life, not now. He eyed the king bed she’d claimed, then sighed because it appeared it was going to be a twin for him.

  “Where are you going?” she said when he turned to leave.

  “To the other room unless you want to invite me to get in that nice big king with you.”

  She snorted. “Dream on.”

  “Was afraid you’d say that.” He should have brought his cowboy hat on this trip so he could tip it to her. She had no clue she’d nailed it calling him cowboy. He tipped a nonexistent one. “Goodnight, wildcat.”

  “Wait. You didn’t say why you’re here.”

  “Visiting a friend for a while.” He’d give her that much. “You?”

  “You aren’t going to call Jack, are you?”

  So she was going to ignore his question. “Not tonight. I don’t make any promises for tomorrow. Depends on what bullshit story you give me.”

  “You can’t stay here.”

  He laughed. The woman really was amusing. “You’re a funny girl.” He stepped over the tree branch, picked up his carry-on, and closed the door behind him, pausing long enough to hear the click of the lock on her bedroom door. “Good girl,” he murmured. He retrieved his suitcase—not that he didn’t trust her, but why take a chance—and headed for the other bedroom where he’d probably spend most of the night staring at the ceiling in a bed that was too short for him.

  Who was wildcat Rachel, and how much danger was she in? The last thing he needed was a female in distress. Yet, he’d felt more alive for the little bit of time sparring with her than he’d felt since the day he’d been captured.

  Not good that females in distress were his kryptonite.

  * * *

  The next morning, after a sleepless night—no surprise there—he sat in a rocking chair on the porch and watched the sunrise. He liked that the cabin was isolated, surrounded by woods on three sides, with a clear view of the valley below from the front. No nosy neighbors wondering who he was or wanting to chat, a definite plus to his mind.

  The Blue Ridge Mountains were the complete opposite of the mountains in Montana. Jack had stocked the kitchen, and as Dallas drank his coffee, he debated which he preferred, the beautiful lush green and gentle slopes of the mountains here, or the rugged and desolate beauty of the ones at home.

  From mountain comparisons, his mind turned to the woman in the king bed he coveted...the bed, not the woman. Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. He’d half expected her to take off after she thought he would be asleep, but she was still here. Thanks to his captors, he’d gotten good at sensing the presence of others even when he couldn’t see them. That skillset was apparently still active.

  Little did she know if she’d tried to skip out on him, he would have been on her tail, something he would have cursed himself nine ways to Sunday for. But he would have done it anyway. He knew what it was like to be afraid, and she was one scared wildcat in need of protection, in spite of the bravado she tried to wrap around herself.

  Also, she made him feel alive. That was as enticing as sugar water to a hummingbird for a man who was dead inside. Would she tell him the truth today, or had she spent the night thinking up a bullshit story? He was looking forward to finding out.

  He was on his second cup of coffee when his mystery woman walked out. She went straight to the railing without even a glance at him. “Morning, wildcat.”

  “Oh.” She faced him, leaning back on the railing. “You’re still here?”

  “As you can see. Wasn’t sure you would be, though.”

  She looked away, shielding her eyes, but not before he saw the fear in them.

  “You don’t have any other place to go, do you?”

  Determination was in those whiskey-colored eyes when her gaze returned to him. “I was here first. You find some other place to go.”

  “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t tell Jack he has a squatter.”

  “How do you know Jack?”

  He chuckled. “You’re good at that, avoiding answering questions. Here’s the deal. I’ll answer a question for each one you do.” He set the rocking chair in motion, sipped the last of his coffee, and waited her out. Not like he didn’t have all the time in the world. Besides, she was keeping him entertained.

  A full minute passed, then she sighed. “You’re right, I don’t have any other place to go. Not at the moment.”

  It was a start, but there was a whole lot of additional intel he intended to get out of her. “Okay, my turn. Jack and I were on the same SEAL team.” Her eyes widened at that. Surprised you, huh, wildcat? “Who’s Robert? An abusive boyfriend you’re running from?”

  “No. You could stay with Jack.”

  “Hurts my feelings how hard you’re trying to get rid of me. Answer the rest of the question.”

  “You said one for one. I answered the second one.”

  “A technicality, but go ahead. Ask me something else.” She was making him work for that intel he needed, and he liked that. She was no pushover, this one.

  “Should I be afraid of you?”

  Now, that was a question he wasn’t expecting. “No, ma’am. My mama would skin my hide if I ever hurt a woman. What’s the story on this abusive boyfriend of yours? Is he looking for you?”

  “You’re devious. You keep asking two questions.”

  He swallowed a smile. “My apology. Choose one.” The last thing he’d expected from this trip were all the smiles his mouth wanted to do around this woman.

  “Robert isn’t my boyfriend.” She crossed her arms, which resulted in pushing her breasts up, and being a man who happened to love breasts, his eyes fell to her chest before he could stop the rascally things.

  “Eyes on mine, cowboy.”

  Heat flamed in his cheeks at being caught out. What was up with that? So he’d checked out her breasts. It was what men did with a woman who interested them, and she definitely interested him. She had on jeans and the same thin white T-shirt from last night but had added a gray hoodie. Still no bra, and no complaint from him on that.

  “Are you a cowboy?”

  “I guess I can claim the title. Grew up on a working ranch. Rode some bucking broncs when I was young and reckless.”

  Her gaze fell to his stomach. “Is that a championship belt buckle?”

  “Yep. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re two questions ahead of me now. If Robert isn’t your boyfriend, then what is he to you and why are you afraid of him?”

  “I’m tired of this game.” She turned her back to him and stared at the mountains.

  “No problem. I’ll ask Jack if it’s okay if you hang out here for a while.”

  She spun around. “No, please don’t.”

  He thought that would get her attention. She didn’t need to know that he’d already decided to keep her existence here a secret, at least until he found why she was hiding and how much danger she was in. It concerned him that her trouble wasn’t a boyfriend. Asshole boyfriends were easy to deal with.

  “Then give me a reason not to.”

  “You’re a jerk, you know that?” She glared at him, and he was glad she didn’t have that tree branch in her hands.

  He swallowed another smile. Damn, if he didn’t like that fire in her eyes. “I’ve been called worse.” Recently, in fact. His captors had had a long list of insulting names they’d thrown at him.

  “Fine. Here’s your reason. Jack’s wife, Nichole, has been my best friend since third grade. I didn’t break in.” She pulled a key out of her pocket and held it up. “I stayed here for their wedding because her house was full of family. I forgot to give it back, and when I needed someplace
to go, I came here.”

  That didn’t make any sense. “If Nichole’s your best friend and you’re in trouble, why wouldn’t you turn to them for help? Believe me, Jack’s capable of protecting you. He’s not a man to mess with.”

  “That’s exactly why. He’d want to get involved, and I’m not about to put the man Nichole loves on the radar of a man who’s a ruthless son of a bitch. Robert wouldn’t see much difference in killing Jack from stepping on a bug.”

  Dallas was seldom at a loss for words, but she’d left him speechless. What the hell had she gotten herself involved in? While he was scrambling for a response because he suddenly had a shit ton of questions, she walked past him, going back into the cabin. Then she popped her head back out.

  “If you care about your friend, you won’t tell him and Nichole I’m here.” Then she was gone again.

  He thought about the little she’d revealed and decided she was under his protection, Ruthless Robert be damned. After giving her time to cool down, he went inside to see if he could sweet-talk a wildcat into making him breakfast.

  Don’t miss Mountain Rescue, coming soon from Sandra Owens and Carina Press!

  www.CarinaPress.com

  Copyright © 2021 by Sandra Owens

  Don’t miss the rest of the Operation K-9 Brothers series by Sandra Owens!

  Operation K-9 Brothers (Book One)

  Keeping Guard (Book Two)

  Mountain Rescue (Book Three)

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