by Cindy Stark
"No," she whispered under her breath. Now that she'd met Luke and Scott, it was unlikely Milo wouldn't learn about her excursion, but she'd hoped to put off the lecture until later. Still, Milo couldn't get too mad at her for going to a place he'd considered safe the day before, even if he had taken his gun. Her throat tightened, though, when he started running toward her. There was something about his posture, his gait, something that radiated tension and set her on edge.
As she neared, she realized he had a gun in his hand, scanning the horizon with his weapon pointed to the side. Terrified, she glanced behind her, sure someone chased her. She couldn't see anyone and wouldn't know where to point her gun if she removed it from the holster. Had Luke and Scott been more dangerous than she'd thought? She faced Milo, his features etched with concern, sending her internal alarm through the roof.
"Get down," Milo yelled.
She dropped to the ground, dust sailing up around her.
It took him only seconds to reach her. He crushed her in his big, strong arms, as he rolled on top of her. His body covered hers stomach-to-stomach, both of their chests expanding in rapid succession as they lay on the dirt path between the tall grasses.
"Where are they? I couldn't see them."
His question confused her. "Wait? Who? You were searching for someone. I saw you scan the horizon."
He pulled back a little, scrutinizing her. "Whoever you were running from."
"I wasn't running from anyone. I was running home."
"No." Irritation sparked in his eyes. "I came home and couldn't find you. When I walked out the back door, you were running, looking behind you, like the devil himself chased you."
She pushed him off her, both of them moving to a sitting position. "No. I was running home, as in exercising. You came out waving a gun and scared me to death."
"There's no one chasing you?" He said it with such disgust that she flinched.
"I never said there was," she volleyed back at him.
"Shit." He stood, dusting off his jeans before tugging her to her feet. "You can't keep playing these games, Ariana. I know you're bored, but we're dealing with some serious circumstances here."
She jerked her hand from his. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Milo. I'm not playing games beyond the poker you walked away from last night."
He opened his mouth to say something and then stopped. She was sure he was thinking about their heated kiss. The muscles in his jaw flexed as sparks snapped from his icy eyes.
Her gut told her it wouldn't be wise to push things, but she was just angry enough to not care. "Say it. I can see you're holding back. Don't let me stop you."
His nostrils flared as his chest expanded. "Let's go back to the house." He took her by the elbow and started walking.
She pulled away, her emotions still raw. "I'm quite capable of walking by myself." How dare he insinuate she played games when she'd only been trying to survive each day? Yes, she'd teased with him the previous night, but they'd both participated in that play. Now, he made it sound as though she'd done something backhanded or dirty. That was how her father operated, not her.
She increased her pace, trying to lengthen the distance between them. His legs were longer than hers making her task difficult. By the time they reached his back fence, she only had a little lead time, but it was enough to enter through the screen door and allow it to slam in his face.
* * *
God almighty, Ariana would be the death of him. Every morning for the past ten days since they'd had their misunderstanding in the field, Milo had found her in the kitchen, standing in her skimpy tank top pajamas cooking breakfast, clearly wearing no bra. He'd done his best to ply her with books and movies, even allowing her to shoot every night. They'd cooked and worked in his garden. Anything to keep her safely entertained.
He couldn't be sure, but he suspected she was still trying to get even with him for accusing her of playing games. So much for having his head on straight. One look at her, and he was right back in the confusing mire of lust. Trying to remain civil yet pleasant to the woman who made his blood boil had been a constant battle and had worn his self-control down to the nub. Reminding himself that she was just a job worked great until they were in the same room. Then all he could think about was the moment he'd pressed her up against the door and let his basal instincts take over. She'd tasted so damn good. When this was over, how would he ever forget her?
For unknown reasons, the fates had thrown his Achilles heel right in his face. Maybe it was a test from the heavens. Maybe it was God's way of laughing at him and his attempt to be half the man his father was.
Whatever it was, trying to keep a professional distance from the woman who tempted him at every turn was his version of a living hell.
This morning, she stood near the counter watching television, bright sun coming through the window. The warm light added hints of honey to her already sun-kissed brown hair and silhouetted her figure from the side. Her full breasts beckoned him like lush fruit, and he ached to walk up behind her, kiss the curve of her neck while he slipped his hands beneath her top and indulged in her bare flesh.
He imagined her turning to him with a smile on her face and a kiss on her lips that would send them barreling head first into a fiery haze of passion.
A man's voice on the TV mentioned her name and yanked his attention back to the present. She had the station turned to the damn news channel again. He draped his shirt over a chair. "I wish you wouldn't watch that. It only makes things more difficult for you." He strode forward, intending to turn it off. As he reached to take the remote, she put her hand on his, stopping him.
"Wait." Her hand remained on his as though to control him.
The spark of desire he'd ignited a moment ago with his thoughts jumped back to life at her touch. The smell of spring lilacs drifted from her hair or maybe her shoulders, and he leaned in closer to try to decipher the inciting location. He feasted on the sight of her while the reporter kept her distracted.
"Quinn," she murmured, and he glanced at the annoying screen.
The blond woman reporter interviewed an unknown man dressed in a suit, but in the background Milo caught a glimpse of his good buddy.
"No, this is not a case of the U.S. Marshals failing to do their job. Miss Trasatti left protection of her own accord. We have never failed a client who followed procedures. Regardless of what happens to Miss Trasatti, the U.S. Marshals have done their job well."
"What about the reports of a woman being pulled from her car at the Chicago Airport and forced into a black sedan? Eyewitness accounts indicate it may be Ms. Trasatti."
Ariana inhaled sharply. "Kenzie will see this."
The Marshal's public information officer shook his head. "I've received no information on that incident. That would be a question for the Chicago Police Department."
"The prosecution is still saying they can produce her. How can they do that if she's dead?"
The PIO's eyes shifted to the side in an awkward movement giving Milo the impression he was uncomfortable answering the question. "I think it's best we let the Chicago PD fully investigate this crime before we start speculating. At this time, we have no further information to add."
"Thank you for your comments, Mr. Carlson." The reporter turned to the camera. "As you've heard—"
Milo clicked off the TV.
Ariana turned to him, anxiety creasing her brow. "My friend will be so worried."
He knew exactly the road her thoughts had traveled. "Try not to think about it. Your friend will be fine."
"You don't understand. She's already mourning the death of her mother. If she thinks she's lost me, too, it will devastate her."
"I'm sure she's smart enough to not believe everything she hears on TV. Television stations love to sensationalize stories, and that story had no substance. It's going to be okay."
"It's not okay," she whispered. "None of this is okay."
He took her by the shoulders. "Look a
t me." When she finally focused on him, he mirrored her serious gaze. "Things will work out. Sometimes doing the right thing can be tough, but you are doing what you need to."
She didn't respond other than the tears welling in her eyes. She bit down on her bottom lip, but he caught the tremble before she fully sank her teeth into the soft flesh. Every ounce of his reserve crumbled like the rock barriers he'd encountered while fighting halfway across the world.
"Ah, hell." He pulled her against his bare chest, folding her in a protective embrace. She laid her head against him, a shuddering sigh escaping her. She slid her hands around his waist and clung to him in a way that tugged at his heart. It was imperative he keep a level head.
He tried to pull back, but she tightened her grip. "Please, can you hold me for just a minute longer?"
How could he refuse? "Of course." His words came out raspy with emotion. She really was messed up by this whole thing. Who wouldn't be? He leaned his chin on her head and stroked her soft strands. "I'm sorry I've made this more difficult for you than it had to be. I should never have let things between us get out of control. I never should have kissed you."
She lifted away from his chest, meeting his gaze. "Do you regret it?"
Her blue-green eyes burrowed into his soul. He wanted to tell her yes. If he did, it would be a great first step to getting them back to the protector-client relationship. "No."
Her mouth softened, leaving a hint of a smile, and he yearned to claim another kiss.
He drew his index finger across her bottom lip even though his common sense screeched a continuous warning to him. "It can't happen again, Ariana." He removed her hands from his waist and held them between their bodies. "No matter how much I want to, it would be grossly unfair to you."
"What if I want it, too?" She searched his face, her eyes begging him to agree.
It killed him to shake his head. "You're in no condition to start anything. Your current predicament has put you in a vulnerable position, and I won't take advantage of it." She started to speak, but he cut her off. "Not only that, but if I'm constantly thinking about…us…" Damn, he couldn't even go there in thought without getting hot and bothered. "Any distractions could be detrimental to you. I need to be focused on my job."
Her smile slipped, but she nodded. "I understand." She pulled her hands from his and crossed them in front of her. "I admire that you're dedicated to your job."
He raised his brows, not certain of her sincerity.
"No, really, I do. I've spent plenty of time around men with no scruples. Your answer might not be the one I want, but I respect it."
He relaxed. They should have had this talk the first day she arrived. "Thank you." Already the tension between them had eased. "Now that we're both off the hook, maybe we can work together to keep you safe and find ways to enjoy the time until your court appearance. Nothing says we have to be miserable while you're here."
"I'd like that."
The sound of Milo's doorbell ruined their contented moment. He hadn't heard anyone pull into the drive. He grabbed his handgun from the pantry door and tucked it into the back of his pants. "Stay in here, out of sight. If anything were to happen, run like you did before, back to the river and then head south. It'll take you directly to my friend Luke's ranch. He could offer assistance."
Fear darkened her gaze, and it ate at him that he'd put it there.
"Don't worry. That's a last resort. No one knows you're here, and I'm quite capable of handling things."
She didn't look at all reassured as he headed out of the kitchen, toward the front door.
* * *
Ariana put her fingers over her mouth, listening as Milo greeted his friend, Scott. This was bad. Really, really bad. She blew out a guilty breath. She'd tried to find a good time to tell Milo about her excursion and meeting his friends, but they'd been at such odds, and she didn't want to add to the tense atmosphere that had pervaded the house. Another choice she now regretted.
When would she learn? She was making decisions based on her upbringing, but the people she dealt with now were thankfully nothing like her family. She needed to make openness and honesty her first reactions instead of relying on hiding and secrets to protect her.
"Where's the honey you've been hiding?" Scott asked in a jovial tone.
"Excuse me?"
Ariana eyed the back door.
"The woman I met at the river the other day. The hot little brunette who told me and Luke she was living with you. I gave you some time, thinking you'd call and want to introduce her, but I haven't heard shit from you since you got back. What's up with that, man? I thought we were tight."
A long pause followed Scott's tirade, and Ariana could only imagine what must be going through Milo's head.
"You're right, Scott. I've been a selfish jerk. Hang on a second."
Ariana bit her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood.
Milo appeared in the kitchen doorway, anger sparking in his glacier blue eyes. "Could you come here for a second, darlin'?" His honeyed voice was a complete contradiction to his murderous gaze. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
"I'm sorry," she mouthed.
He glared and then jerked his head, indicating she needed to go with him. She snagged his shirt as she passed the table and shrugged into it, needing something to shield her from Scott's gaze and Milo's wrath.
Milo gripped her hand in a crushing embrace just before they entered the living room. "Follow my lead."
Scott glanced up, an attractive grin curving his full lips. She could see where his dark hair and goatee might give him a dangerous appeal if he held a serious expression. Tack on the bulging biceps peeking from beneath his Harley t-shirt, and he appeared to be one serious bad-ass.
"Hello again." His dark eyes flashed with amusement.
"Hi." She pulled Milo's shirt closed.
Milo glanced down at her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Scott, I'd like to officially introduce Anna."
Thank God she'd used the fake name Milo had given her.
"Honey, this is Scott Beckstead, one of my long-time friends." He tugged her toward him, wrapping an iron arm around her waist. "She didn't mention she'd run into you at the river. Otherwise, I would have called sooner."
"So?" Scott looked at Milo with expectant eyes.
"What?"
"God, man, you're dense." He shifted his gaze to Ariana. "You sure you want to be connected to him?" He glanced back. "I'll tell you what worries me. Here's my best friend neck deep in a new relationship. No details? Last I checked, you were a confirmed bachelor headed to Vegas. What the hell?" He looked at her. "No offense."
She couldn't imagine how Milo would explain her.
Milo shrugged. "What can I say? We met in Vegas."
Scott raised his brows, as if asking for more to the story. "I thought what happened there stayed in there." Doubt flashed in his eyes.
She had to help. "It was unexpected. We met at the poker table and just kind of connected."
"Connected?" He looked back to Milo. "Dude, I've seen you connect with hundreds of women, but you've never brought any of them home." Back to Ariana. "Again, no offense."
Milo shifted, his fingers digging into her side. "I guess when you meet the right one, there's no point in waiting. We got married."
Silence encompassed the room as though it waited for everyone to take a collective breath.
"What?" she and Scott asked in unison.
Milo squeezed her waist. "I'm sorry, honey. I know we were going to wait a bit before we told everyone, but Scott's my best friend."
"What the hell, man? Were you drunk?"
She ignored Scott's slander, still reeling from Milo's announcement.
Milo removed his hand and stepped forward as though to protect her from any potential verbal attacks. "What exactly are you insinuating, Scott? That I made a mistake? That I would never have married my beautiful wife if I wasn't drunk? That because I made a quick decision, it's wrong?" He fold
ed his arms in a menacing manner.
Scott blinked several times before he glanced at her. She was sure the surprise on his face mirrored hers. "Uh…no. No, I wouldn't insult you like that." He looked back and forth between them, and then released a short bark of a laugh. "Damn, man. I just…never would have expected it of you. But you seem like you're of sound mind, and she doesn't seem like she could pull the wool over your eyes." He held out his hand to Milo. "I guess I'll be the first to offer my congratulations."
When Milo reached forward to shake it, Scott tugged him into an embrace and clapped him on the back. He released Milo and approached her. "I apologize, Anna, if I offended you."
"None taken." Milo watched her closely, and she wanted to reassure him she wouldn't blow her cover. But married? Seriously?
Scott gave her a quick squeeze. "Welcome to the family."
"Thank you." His comment brought tears to the surface, as though he truly was welcoming her into the fold. A rapid succession of blinks took care of the moisture. She hadn't belonged anywhere since she'd turned sixteen. She missed it. "I promise I have no evil plots to use and abuse him."
Both men laughed, and she released a sigh of relief. Tense situation diffused.
Scott stepped back and looked at them both. "Wow. Just wow. Wait until Luke hears about this."
Milo cursed under his breath, but he seemed genuinely happy as he leaned against the back of the couch. "I'll never hear the end of it."
"Very true. However, your shocking announcement does segue very nicely into the other reason I stopped by. A couple of the guys, uh, obtained a certain amount of alcohol, and they're planning a barbeque for Saturday night out at the pond just past old man Jackson's farm." He grinned at his friend, and Milo responded with a chuckle.
"You know I know the place well. Are you telling me there's going to be a wild-ass party going on? You do recognize I'm a sworn officer of the law."
"Exactly why I put it so delicately. But don't worry, Kim's agreed to be the designated driver for anyone who needs to be home before sun up, and, unlike a few years ago, we're all of legal age now. Come on. It's most of the old gang, and we can celebrate your recent nuptials."
