Wyoming Strong

by Diana Palmer

  The words ended on a groan. One long leg inserted itself between both of hers. He pushed between them. She gasped and pushed at his chest, really frightened.

  He lifted his head. His mouth was swollen. His pale eyes glittered, narrowed. “Are you really that innocent?” he asked through his teeth. “Or are you teasing, like she did?”

  She swallowed, hard. She licked her lips and tasted him on them. “Do you know...what an imperforate hymen is?” she asked, flushing even as she said it.

  He stilled on her body. His eyes were the only things alive in the sudden stone of his face. “Yes,” he said after a minute.

  “I...can’t,” she managed. Her lips trembled. She averted her eyes. “It was the only thing that saved me, when he tried to...” She swallowed. “Gabriel broke a door down to get to him.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  He didn’t say what he was thinking, that her body would have tempted a saint, and that the poor man was probably out of his mind, the way Wolf had been out of his mind with Ysera. But he didn’t want to hurt her. She had her own scars. She’d been kind to him. Kinder than he deserved. She’d listened without judging. She’d given him the first comfort he’d ever had.

  He rolled over onto his back and drew her beside him, shuddering. He was aroused and hurting.

  She slid her hand onto his chest. He caught it roughly and stilled it.

  “Don’t do that,” he snapped.

  “Wh-what?”

  “Oh, God, are you really that naive?” he groaned. Without thinking, he carried her hand down below his belt and pressed it there.

  She jerked back as if she’d touched a snake. Her eyes, shocked and wild, saw what she’d touched. She threw herself off the sofa and almost fell getting to her feet. She was remembering. That was what her stepfather had done, that night. He’d said things, vulgar things, about his condition and what he wanted her to do to him. He’d forced her down onto the bed and torn her clothes out of his way. She was screaming...

  “Sara!”

  She shivered. Her eyes were wild. Great, huge black orbs in a face like rice paper. He was standing over her, stunned at her reaction.

  That didn’t look like an act. She seemed genuinely afraid of intimacy. His pale eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to force you,” he said quietly. “I would never do that. I swear it!”

  She wrapped her arms around her chest and lowered her eyes to the floor. “I wish I would die,” she said unsteadily.

  “Sara!”

  She turned and ran back into the kitchen. She saw a cloud of dust in the distance and recognized the black truck coming down the road. “It’s Gabriel,” she choked out, aware of Wolf’s presence behind her.

  He caught her hand gently and led her to a chair. “Sit down. I’ll make another pot of coffee.”

  She bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry,” she choked out.

  “No. I’m sorry for repaying honest compassion with lust,” he bit off. “I’m ashamed of what I did to you.”

  She looked up, surprised.

  He searched her pale face. “Next time,” he said quietly, “it’s your turn to talk.”

  “I...don’t think I can.”

  “I told you things I never dreamed I could say to another person, much less to a woman,” he said, averting his face as he moved to fill the coffeepot with water.

  “I’m sorry for what she did to you,” she said quietly. “I must lead a sheltered life. I didn’t know, I didn’t dream, that there were people like that in the world.” She swallowed. “With the lights on... I could never...!”

  He wondered who she’d done it with since her bad experience, and how many times. He wanted to know. It shouldn’t have mattered. But it did. He turned his attention to making coffee. He really hoped that Gabriel wouldn’t notice the way they both looked.

  * * *

  GABRIEL WAS PERCEPTIVE, but they both looked so miserable that he didn’t comment. Sara excused herself after a minute and went upstairs.

  Gabriel gave his friend a speaking look.

  “It isn’t what you think,” Wolf said quietly. “She...listened.”

  The other man was surprised. “You told her?”

  He nodded. He sipped coffee. “I’ve never been able to talk about it. She’s a good listener.” He managed a faint smile. “I shocked her.”

  “She’s not very worldly,” Gabriel said quietly. “In many ways, she’s still a child.”

  Wolf’s pale eyes narrowed. “She said you broke down a door to get to her.”

  Gabriel’s face closed up.

  “Why won’t you tell me?” he asked.

  “Because it’s Sara’s secret, not mine,” Gabriel replied quietly. “She wakes up screaming sometimes, late at night. I don’t know if she sleeps more than a couple of hours at a stretch.”

  Wolf was wondering what in the world a man could do to a woman to cause that sort of reaction. Sara wasn’t totally innocent. She certainly knew what passion was like. Until he’d made her touch him intimately, she’d seemed to enjoy what he did to her.

  “She should be in therapy,” Wolf said.

  “Pot.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Pot calling the kettle black,” Gabriel expounded. “You need it more than she does. You’ve never dealt with what happened.”

  “How do you deal with innocent deaths?” Wolf asked through his teeth.

  “The way we deal with all deaths,” came the stoic reply. “It goes with the business we’re in. People die. That’s war.”

  “It was a child!”

  Gabriel grasped the other man’s wrist, hard. “Intent is everything in law,” he said. “You would never harm a child. Never!”

  Wolf’s eyes were glittery with feeling. “But I did.”

  “Because of that lying, sick tramp,” Gabriel said shortly. “And that brings me to something we have to discuss.”

  “What?”

  “Eb’s got a contact in Buenos Aires. He had a positive ID on Ysera.”

  “It really is her?”

  Gabriel nodded grimly. “She’s up to her old tricks. She’s formed a new insurgent group, and the 411 is that she’s headed back to Africa with it. She’s still a high-level intel agent for the Red Scar.”

  The Red Scar was one of the more brutal organizations founded along religious lines to foment rebellion in African provinces where precious natural resources were at stake. The unit had dealt with it before. Ysera had been part and parcel of it, but none of Gabriel or Wolf’s men had known of her connection until it was too late.

  “So what now?” Wolf asked.

  “Now we do all we can to get an organized group watching your back,” Gabriel said quietly. “She’s been in hiding since it happened, with Interpol on her tail. But now she feels safe, and she’s put the word out that she wants you dead for betraying her. She’s got a new boyfriend. This one is a Brazilian millionaire. So she’s got the money now, thanks to her new boyfriend, to get the job done!”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “WELL,” WOLF TOLD Gabriel heavily, “I guess I knew it would come down to that one day. I’ve had attempts before.”

  “One serious one,” Gabriel recalled. His black eyes narrowed. “But Ysera wasn’t behind it. If she tries, we could have real problems. I worry about Sara,” he added. “Someone thought she was here alone last year and made an attempt on her, because of an enemy I made. I was home at the time.”

  “Luckily,” came the grim reply.

  Gabriel sipped coffee. “If Ysera targets you, she could also hit anybody you’re with.”

  “I would never let anyone hurt Sara,” he said in a tone that drew the other man’s eyes. He grimaced. “I know. We could hurt each other. But she...gives me peace,” he bit off, hating to admit it.

  “A rare thing, in our line of work,” the other man replied. He stared into his coffee cup. “Try not to hurt her. She’s had a hell of a life.”

  “I wonder sometimes if there are any people in the world who are genuin
ely free of bad memories.”

  “I seriously doubt it.”

  He finished his coffee. His pale eyes met the other man’s. “She’s amazingly fragile,” he said after a minute. “How old is she?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “And she doesn’t date.”

  Gabriel bit down on a harsh reply. “There are reasons.”

  Wolf had a good idea what they were. He wondered if her stepfather had been the love of her life, if she’d been crushed when he went to jail because of her testimony.

  “You won’t tell me what they are, will you?” Wolf mused.

  Gabriel shook his head. “That’s Sara’s business.”

  “All right.”

  “You watch your back,” Gabriel said, rising. “Ysera was dangerous enough when she lost everything and went into hiding. But now, with a bankroll, she could become your worst enemy. I wish to God we’d put her down while we had the chance.”

  “The authorities let her slip by,” Wolf said coldly.

  “Money changed hands,” Gabriel replied. “It cost her everything she had, but it got her out of the country just a jump ahead of the militia.”

  “What a damned shame,” was the reply.

  Gabriel nodded. “How’s your game life going?” he teased.

  He shrugged. “My friend the warlock and I are the terror of battlegrounds everywhere.” He chuckled then grimaced. “That reminds me, I’ve got to phone Rydel and check on Hellie.”

  “Hellie? What’s wrong?”

  “I was on my way to check on my new bull when your sister waved me down, covered with blood.”

  “What?”

  “Someone ran over Hellie,” Wolf said, calming the other man. “Sara stopped. She was trying to lift Hellie into her car, to get her to a vet.” He smiled gently. “Soaked her sweater, probably would have ruined the inside of the car, and she didn’t give a damn.” His eyes had a faint, soft light in them. “Your sister is one hell of a woman.”

  Gabriel smiled sadly. “Yes. She loves animals. We had a dog, when we lived with my mother and her second husband.” His face hardened with the memory.

  “What happened?”

  “He got mad at Sara and killed the dog,” he said shortly. “He left it lying on the front porch, so she’d see it the minute she got home.”

  “Dear God,” Wolf groaned.

  “She never got over it,” he continued. “She won’t have a dog or a cat these days. She loves the horses, but she doesn’t want an animal inside that she might get too attached to.”

  “And I thought I had a hard life.”

  “Did you tell Sara the full name of your dog?”

  Wolf laughed out loud. “No. She thinks little enough of me as it is. I don’t want any smart comments about a grown man playing kids’ games on the PC.”

  Gabriel laughed, too, and tried not to sound relieved.

  “A lot of grown men play them, including some of our colleagues.”

  “Yes.” The smile faded. “Sometimes it helps to get away from the real world and into one where pain doesn’t accompany every single damned minute.”

  Gabriel studied the older man’s drawn face. “Try not to hurt Sara too much,” he said gruffly.

  Wolf’s face was open for a few seconds, vulnerable. “She’s the sort of woman who makes you feel...safe,” he said, searching for the words. “Like you’re standing out in the snow, and she’s a warm, cozy fire in a small room.”

  Gabriel felt the shock down to his feet. Did Wolf even realize what he was admitting?

  Apparently not, because he laughed shortly. “I don’t trust women,” he said. “She’d have to get close to me to be threatened, and that won’t happen. She’ll be safe with me. I’ll watch out for her when you aren’t around.”

  Gabriel hesitated, but only for a minute. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. Try not to get yourself killed.”

  “I have a big cape and a shirt with a letter S on it,” Gabriel began wryly.

  Wolf just laughed.

  * * *

  IT WAS A stupid idea. Wolf knew that before he parked his car at the end of the pasture where Sara was galloping on one of the new mares Gabriel had purchased. He’d done nothing but remember the feel of her soft lips under his mouth for several days, and he was aching. It was suicide to get involved with her. But he couldn’t help himself.

  He moved to the fence and put a big foot on the lower rung, just watching her. She was beautiful on a horse, elegant and poised and graceful.

  She saw him and jumped gracefully down from the horse and up onto the high wooden fence. He was propped on the other side of it.

  “You look pretty on a horse,” he said, smiling.

  She smiled back. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “A little better than before, maybe.” He searched her eyes. “How about dinner in Houston and the opera after? They’re performing Bizet’s Carmen.”

  Her heart jumped, but she hesitated. She was remembering what Gabriel had said.

  “Yes, we can hurt each other,” he said, as if he’d read the thoughts in her mind. “It doesn’t seem to matter. I want to take you out.”

  “I...would like to go,” she confessed.

  He smiled gently. “About six, Friday? We’ll have supper before we go. I’ll pick you up, where? Here?”

  “Gabriel’s leaving tonight. I’ll be at the apartment in San Antonio until he gets back.”

  “Nice timing,” he mused. “Did you offer him a quarter to go away?”

  She laughed. Her black eyes lit up like candles, and her beautiful face radiated joy. “Not really.”

  He chuckled. “Okay. Wear something pretty. But not too sexy,” he added with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t fancy a trip to the emergency room if things get out of hand.”

  She colored, but then she laughed, too.

  He shook his head. “Never thought about minor surgery?”

  “There wasn’t any reason to,” she said after a minute. “I never wanted to...with anybody.”

  His pale eyes glittered. “I could make you want to. With me.”

  She bit her lower lip.

  “I won’t,” he said gently, and traced patterns on the back of her hand. “I can’t really afford to lose my only confidant.”

  She managed a smile. “That works both ways.”

  He searched her black eyes. “We know too much about each other, don’t we?”

  She nodded.

  “Broken people.”

  She smiled. She wanted to mention that someone else had said that to her, but she didn’t want to have to answer questions about her only real pleasure in life. “Yes,” she said. “Broken people.” She pursed her full, soft lips. “Maybe we could use duct tape.”

  He thought about that for a minute and suddenly erupted into genuine laughter.

  “Yes, only two things in life you need, duct tape and WD-40.” She grinned. “If it doesn’t move and it should, use the WD-40. If it moves and it shouldn’t, use the duct tape!”

  “You’re the sort of woman who would suggest using Saran Wrap for birth control,” he muttered.

  She did laugh, then, even though she colored a little with embarrassment. “How’s Hellie?” she asked.

  “Getting better by the day. She’s clomping around the house on her cast pretty handily. I’ll take you by to see her on the way home from the opera, if you like.”

  Dangerous. It would be very late when they came back from Houston. But she couldn’t resist the danger. “I do like.”

  He was remembering what Gabriel had told him, that their stepfather had killed Sara’s dog. He smiled sadly. “You love animals, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she replied with soft black eyes.

  He glanced at the mare nudging her back impatiently. “I noticed.” He let go of the fence. “Friday at six.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  He threw up a hand and drove away. Sara watched him go with faint misgivings. Sh
e hadn’t really told him as much as he’d told her. She hoped she wasn’t going to regret it.

  * * *

  SHE WENT THROUGH everything in her closet, and there were plenty of dresses, looking for just the right thing to wear. She settled on a sleek black cocktail dress with spaghetti straps that fell to just below her knees and flared out. The bodice was square, not too low, but not prudish, either. She left her hair long and accented the dress with her pearls and matching studs. She looked beautiful, but she didn’t notice that. She didn’t like looking in mirrors.

  Wolf was wearing a dinner jacket with expensive slacks and a silk shirt and black tie. He looked elegant and so handsome that Sara caught her breath. Without his usual Stetson, his hair was thick and soft and black as a raven’s head.

  “Noticing the gray hairs, are you?” he mused.

  “Gray hairs?”

  He reached out and traced her cheek. His face was somber. “I’m thirty-seven years old, Sara.”

  “You don’t look it.”

  He drew in a breath. “There’s a lot of mileage on me,” he murmured. “If I were a car, I’d be in a junkyard.”

  “You’d be in a showroom, as a classic collector’s edition,” she replied with twinkling black eyes.

  He chuckled. His eyes were slow and appreciative on her face. “It’s a shame I don’t like brunettes,” he teased. “You’re really quite beautiful.”

  She flushed. “That’s only what’s outside.”

  He frowned slightly. “You don’t like the way you look, do you?”

  She clutched her purse. “I hate having men stare at me,” she said a little unevenly.

  “Why?”

  She moved restlessly. “We should go, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  She came out of the apartment and locked the door.

  “I hope you like French cuisine,” he said with a grin. “I found a lovely little bistro just down the street.”

  Her breath caught. “It’s my favorite place to eat.”

  He chuckled. “It’s one of mine, too.”

  * * *

  THEY HAD LAMB and herbed potatoes, with an exquisite crème brûlée for dessert. Sara savored every bite. But it had taken longer than they expected to get seated. The ballet was at eight, and there was still the drive to Houston. But Wolf didn’t seem to be concerned with the time at all.