“Ready for your picture?” asked the guy holding the snake as the girl rushed out. Addie thought it was Carrigan’s son, Ted. He’d always seemed most sympathetic, or at least he hadn’t shut her out completely when she’d tried to talk to him.
Addie shuddered as the snake flicked its tongue in her direction. “God, no.”
Risk didn’t so much as flinch as the snake’s flickering tongue inched closer to his arm. “My girl here came to get a picture with the baby tiger. We drove all the way from D.C.”
Ted shook his head. “Sorry, we don’t have the cub anymore. Guess you didn’t see my dad on the news last night. Some crazy animal rights chick stole it.”
Addie had to force herself not to react. She hated the word crazy. Extreme, maybe. Fiercely dedicated, definitely. She looked at Risk, her mouth in a pout. “Honey …”
“Don’t you have another one?” Risk asked. “In the back, maybe? My Babbette has been whining—I mean, begging me to bring her here, and I won’t hear the end of it if you don’t get her a tiger to pose with.” He whipped out his wallet and extracted a crisp hundred-dollar bill. “Make it happen, and I’ll double the fee.”
She leaned up and kissed Risk’s cheek. “Oh, Sebastian, you’re just the sweetest.” She rubbed his chest in small circles, batting her eyes at Ted. “He’s always willing to do anything to make me happy.” And right at that moment, her hand was very happy, sliding over the contours of Risk’s pecs.
Ted eyed the bill, chewing his lower lip as he contemplated. He gestured for them to follow. “Come with me.”
Her heart jumped. This was it. They’d eye the tiger, bring in the authorities, and it would be over.
Though Risk left his arm casually around her, she felt his body tense. Of course, if Tigs were here, that meant these guys were the ones who’d tried to abduct her. Maybe they didn’t recognize her, maybe they did. She and Risk had to be ready for anything.
They followed Ted around the back of the RVs, out of sight of the zoo. She could see Risk’s eyes shifting back and forth, surveying their surroundings. His fingers had tightened on her shoulder, but his other hand rested against his stomach—near his gun.
Ted was looking around, too; no one was in sight. He crooked his finger as he came around the corner of a trailer, where she could see the bars of a cage. Addie could hardly breathe as she prepared to see Tigs.
It wasn’t Tigs. A black animal with a thick tail sat in the cage, looking suspiciously out at them. Ted presented it as though it were a wonderful surprise. “How about a picture with a bearcat? A bear and a cat, like two for one. He’s not technically available for photo ops.” He nodded toward Risk’s pocket, where he’d tucked the hundred-dollar-bill. “But I’m willing to arrange something under the circumstances.”
Addie didn’t have to hide her disappointment or fake it. “It looks like a big ole possum.” She gave Risk an imploring look. “Honey, I want a picture with a tiger. I told you we should have come earlier.”
Risk sighed, aiming his world-weary look at Ted. “When will you be getting another one?”
Ted shook his head. “I’m sorry to say that we probably won’t. You see, the travel is really hard on them. A lot of ’em die while we’re on the road, and the place my father sends them to once they get too big for safe handling, well, we just found out it isn’t very nice. The crazy activist lady’s been telling us that for the last year. I checked in to it, and she’s right. I can hook you up with any other animal for your picture.”
Addie couldn’t believe it. Had she actually gotten through to at least one of them? Or could they see through her disguise? She tugged on Risk’s shirt. “I don’t want to hurt any tiger babies. Let’s go, honey.”
“Hey!” Carrigan came around the corner. “Don saw you bringing people back here.” His beady eyes settled on her and Risk. “This area is not for the public.” His gaze lingered on them. In suspicion? Addie did her best to keep her expression placid.
Ted slung his hand in her direction. “This here gal was really bumming that she couldn’t get a picture with the tiger. I was just showing her our newest resident, thinking maybe we could use him.”
“He’s not for handling.” Carrigan reached toward them. “You’ll have to—”
Risk had him turned around with one arm cocked at an awkward angle behind his back so fast, Addie didn’t even see it happen.
“I was just going to guide you back to the public area!” Carrigan yelled, his face red.
Risk was eerily cool and controlled. He released the man. “Sorry. I just got out of the military. I’m a little jumpy.”
Carrigan quickly stepped back, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ll say.”
Ted had stood there with his mouth open the whole time. It was all Addie could do to squelch a burst of laughter at their shell-shocked expressions. Risk took her hand and led them away, watching both men from the corner of his eye. His body didn’t relax one bit as they made their way to the parking area.
As he opened the passenger door of her red SUV for her, he did one last thorough survey. “No one’s paying attention to us. If they knew who we really were, they’d be watching at least.” He closed the door and got in. She liked his vigilance, the way his energy changed when he was in soldier mode.
He turned to her and caught her with who knew what expression on her face. She shifted her thoughts. “Tigs wasn’t there. And I think Ted would have told us if there’d been any chance of scoring that bill. Poor Tigs. Where could he be?”
Risk pulled onto the highway, still watching the rearview mirror. “Poor us. We just eliminated the number one suspect. Remember, Addie, this is about you, not the tiger.”
“It’s about both of us. We’re both in big trouble.”
He was driving because he’d used his “I’m in control” card: He’d been trained in evasive driving tactics. Like they’d ever be chased. Then she remembered the hit-and-run and decided not to argue.
She sat back in her seat, running her fingers up and down the seat belt. “You were absolutely amazing when you had Carrigan in that lock. If I’d blinked, I’d have missed it.”
“The guy had no right to touch you.”
He’d done that because of her? The edge of propriety in his voice gave her a shiver. “Remind me not to put my hand on you without warning.”
“You can put your hand anywhere you want. I wouldn’t react like that.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Anywhere?”
He slid her a heated look. “Oh, doll, don’t go there with me. You’re my client.” Nothing more. That was what he hadn’t said. But she’d bet he was thinking it.
And you should be thinking it, too. She took in his profile, that slightly crooked nose, strong chin, and a mouth she knew was totally kissable.
“I’m hungry,” he said, as though reading her thoughts. “Know of any decent diners in the area? I’m in the mood for something good and greasy.”
Oh, that kind of hungry. Her stomach growled. “I know the perfect place, not far from the ranch. But I don’t want to go in there like this.”
He gave her an appraising look. “But Babbette, you look so hot.”
Hmph. How could she feel jealous of herself? “Sorry, time for her to go bye-bye. At least parts of her.” She wriggled out of the overly padded bra and tossed it into the back.
“You know what they say: More than a handful is a waste.”
“Hah. Guys only say that to women with small breasts to make them feel better. You know you want double-D’s.”
He laughed, a soft, low sound that trickled right through her. “Addie, what you have is perfectly fine. More than fine. Why is it that you assume I go for buxom women?”
She shed her wig and shook out her hair. “Because guys who look like you usually do. At least that’s the way it was in high school, when I was interested in dating. No one gave me a second glance, especially when I was standing near the real Babbette.” Her classmate Babbette had a woman’s body at fifteen
, while Addie hadn’t even sniffed at curves until she was almost twenty. She glanced down at her barely-B’s. And still hadn’t.
“You’re talking about hormonal, prepubescent, oversexed boys. You can’t judge your effect on men based on that.”
What was her effect on him? She didn’t dare ask. Well, she had an idea. Because back at the barn, that hadn’t been a pistol in his pocket …
Chapter 7
Forty-five minutes later, Addie and Risk pulled up to a diner appropriately called the Greasy Spoon. The small whitewashed building sported an enormous spoon on its roof. She gave him a grin when he read the sign, turned to her, and said, “Perfect.”
They got out of the car and came around to the front. “When I’m on a mission, I figure out how to get what I want,” she said. “Or in this case, what you want: greasy food.” The word mission triggered a realization: Having a man in her life would screw up her dedication. She’d been so distracted by Risk that she’d missed celebrating a very important point. “The zoo might give up having tiger cubs. I got one of them to listen—to actually listen—to me!” She spun around and, caught up in her revelry, wrapped her arms around his neck and jumped up and down. “I made a difference!” When she came to a stop, her smile faded. And her heartbeat stepped up. “You’re looking at me the way you did in the barn, right before you kissed me.”
His hands had automatically gone around her waist. “Mm-hmm. Because you’ve got that same light in your eyes. I know it sounds crazy, but it turns me on big-time. I’ve seen women get all excited about chocolate or a pair of shoes.” He shook his head. “I never could wrap my head around that. But there’s something so damned sexy about your passion.” His fingers tightened on her. “Because your heart is in your beautiful smile and in your voice and in the way you move, and Addie, it’s making me crazy. You’re making me crazy.”
His words melted through her. He found her attractive—sexy!—for the very reasons that the few other guys who’d been in her life had found exasperating. “If it’s any consolation, you’re making me crazy, too.”
That earned a slight lift at the corner of his mouth. “This job would be a lot easier if you were gay.”
She blew out a breath that made her bangs bounce. “It would make my life easier, too.”
But that reminded her that she was a job to him. She was getting in the way of his duties and distracting him, too. Even knowing that they shouldn’t be standing in each other’s arms, she couldn’t make herself step away.
He ran his fingers through his hair and released her. “We’d better go inside before I give in and sate my other hunger.” His gaze slid from her mouth down her body before he turned toward the entrance.
He was hungry for this body? She held back the question as she walked through the door that Risk was holding open.
Once they were seated, a server with a Babbette build came over and handed them each a menu. Her spoon-shaped name tag read KAYLA. Her eyes lit on Risk as he took the menu from her. “You’re cute.” She quickly looked to Addie. “I mean, the two of you are cute together.” She nodded toward the front window, where their little celebratory hug-turned-almost-something-else had been in full view of the entire diner. “At first we thought maybe you were proposing to her. Is this a celebratory meal?”
“No,” both Risk and Addie said at the same time. “Just a personal victory,” Addie added sheepishly.
“Bet she’d say yes,” Kayla said with a wink. “Drink orders?”
Addie was glad to see that Risk was just as thrown by the observation as she was. “Iced tea, sweet,” he said after a moment.
After Addie dittoed that and Kayla went to the kitchen, Addie broke out in laughter. “At least we know we’ll be convincing tonight.”
He sat back in the booth and shook his head. “They thought I was proposing to you.”
She followed his gaze to the other patrons in the diner, which was about a third full at this time of day. Some of the diners, mostly the women, were giving them the kind of smile one gives to, say, the newly engaged. Embarrassed, she slid her gaze to the wall beyond. It was covered in spoons. She’d been so preoccupied, she hadn’t noticed that there were spoons mounted on every surface, including the wall next to their table. They all bore signatures and sayings written in marker.
Kayla delivered their teas. “Y’all can buy a spoon for a buck. Sign it, we’ll give you the glue, and you find a spot for it.”
“I’ll take one,” Addie said.
Kayla reached into her apron pocket and handed Addie a spoon and her choice of colored markers. “Some couples buy two and mount them side by side or cross them.” She gave Risk an expectant look.
He pointed to the menu. “Country-fried steak, hash browns, and two eggs over well,” he said. “With a side of bacon, please.”
Addie couldn’t help wrinkle her nose. Not only the bacon but all of that grease. Still, that was why she’d brought him here, right? And he was clearly happy about it. “Chicken salad, but hold the chicken. Oil and vinegar dressing, please.”
“I’ll take her chicken,” Risk said, handing the menus to the server. He looked at her from across the table. “No lecture on eating animal flesh?”
“I don’t lecture. People have to make their own choices.”
He looked relieved as he took a long drink of his tea. “The only time I ever went out with a vegan, she spent the whole meal going on about how awful animals are treated.”
“I bet she was a one-time date.”
“And a short one. Thanks for not being that way.” He tapped his teaspoon on the table. “Though your being annoying as hell would make it easier to be around you, ironic as that sounds.”
“Same with you. If you were an overbearing jerk …” I wouldn’t want you, either. But he wasn’t. And she did. Their gazes locked, and for a moment she was lost in the heat of his hazel eyes.
He cleared his throat. “Speaking of my being a professional and focusing on my job, I think it’s safe to eliminate the zoo from the suspect list. I understand there is a list.”
She showed him an inch between her finger and thumb. “Just a small one.”
“Who else might want you captured? Or dead?”
She’d been unwrapping her straw, and at those words, she simply froze. “Sorry. When you put it that bluntly, it’s hard to wrap my head around.” Risk had been living a life where death was part of a day’s work. She jammed the straw into her glass and drank as she thought about his question. “I would say the the director of research at the North Carolina College of Medicine. I was responsible for exposing the abuse of cats being tested for medical studies that ended up having no scientific basis.
“I was tipped off by a student who sneaked me into the lab. I took pictures of these poor, tortured cats and made them public. The U.S. Department of Agriculture cited the college for violating the Animal Welfare Act, which cost the program their NIH—National Institutes of Health—funding. The director, Maynard Williams, was very angry when the lab was shut down.” Her eyes widened. “They could store a tiger cub in one of the cages they used for the cats. No one would know, since the lab is closed. And … theoretically, they could put me in one of the bigger cages. Wouldn’t that be poetic justice in Williams’s mind?” The thought of it shuddered through her.
Risk didn’t like the idea, either, to judge by his scowl. “I’ll have Chase run him, see if he’s got any priors that would indicate a capacity for violence. If you trashed his program, it may have pushed him over the edge. Something I learned from Chase is that docile people can go ape-shit if they feel justified or persecuted. And if Williams was overseeing this barbaric program, he’s not the most ethical kind of guy.” He texted Chase the information, then looked up at her. “Think about the people you saw at the college. Can you place either of those thugs there?”
“Not that I recall. But I was mostly sneaking around at night with Gil.”
“Who’s Gil?”
“The guy who
tipped me off. I’ll call him. I kept his name out of the proceedings, so he should still be attending college.”
“Gil who?” Risk started typing again.
“He’s the tipster, not the one behind all this.”
“Never hurts to check out everyone. Last name, city of residence?”
She blew out an exasperated breath. It was no use trying to convince him. She could see that set soldier’s expression. “Sanderson. I imagine he lives in or near Callowell, where the college is located.”
Risk typed that in, then made a quick call to Chase to update him on their next course of action. By the time he finished, the food had arrived.
Risk’s face lit up at the sight of breaded steak draped in a blanket of white gravy, hash browns glistening with butter, and especially the bacon. Addie did not light up at the sight of her salad.
Kayla chuckled as she took in the dichotomy of plates. “You’d be surprised at how many couples come in here and order just like this. Then she gives in to temptation and ends up eating half his food.”
“I’m not going to give in to temptation,” Addie said, probably too fast.
“She’s a vegetarian,” Risk added with a slow nod.
“Well, bless your heart.” Kayla sauntered off.
Addie narrowed her eyes. “Who was the ‘bless your heart’ aimed at?”
Risk grinned. “Probably me.” He tucked in to his high-fat, animal-laden meal.
“I don’t know how you can eat that and stay in the shape you’re in.” She speared a forkful of lettuce.
“I can eat this way once in a while because of the shape I’m in. I run, work out. I’ve never been one to sit around eating potato chips and watching television.”
“That’s obvious.” And now it was obvious that she’d noticed.
He grinned. “Why, thank you.”
That smile did funny things to her heart, so she clarified. “It was just an observation, not a compliment.”
Wild on You Page 9
