by Em Petrova
“How terrible. I’ll stop in and bring you some soup.”
Ross jerked a hand.
Fighting to keep the nerves from her tone, she said, “That’s so sweet of you, Meredith, but I’d hate to think of passing these germs on to you.”
Her friend sucked in a sharp gasp. “The conference! Will you be able to go? MIZR is relying on you to put our small lab on the map with your announcement.”
“That’s why I’m planning to rest a lot in the next couple days. I’m going to make that conference no matter what.”
Ross gave a hard nod.
Annoyance rippled through her. She couldn’t even take a phone call with an old friend without gaining his approval after every single word she said. He acted this way to keep her safe—because she asked him to. She couldn’t get too angry with him, but did he need to be so highhanded?
“I’m glad you’re still planning to attend. The whole world will be listening to you speak.”
She winced. “Thanks for reminding me.”
Meredith issued a light laugh. “Oh yeah…you get nervous being the center of attention.”
“And you don’t. Too bad we can’t swap.”
“I don’t think anybody would mistake me for you, Pippa. Well, if you won’t allow me to bring you soup, then please know I’m thinking about you. If you need a single thing—tissues, cold meds, lozenges, anything—just call and I’ll be there.”
Her heart warmed with her friend’s sweet offer. “I appreciate it, Meredith. You’re the best.”
“Don’t be silly. I know you’d do the same for me. Take care of yourself, Pippa.”
The line went dead, and Pippa turned off her phone, feeling a little shaky at her lie.
“Quick thinking, telling her you’re sick.”
“I don’t like lying, especially to friends.”
“I doubt you’ve told many in your life. You were always a stickler for keeping to the rules.”
“And you weren’t. I remember you and your brothers used to try to get away with as much as you could. I always thought you did it to show off when my family was visiting.”
“Nope. That was an everyday occurrence.” He threw her a smile, dimple and all.
She stared at the divot in his cheek, feeling shakier but in a different way. He relaxed in the seat, one hand on the wheel as he sped them toward Seattle, and the pose only added to his appeal.
It was a silly thing, really, learning this strange new thing about herself. And at her age too.
Pippa studied him from the corner of her eye.
Who knew she liked a man who took charge?
Chapter Four
Ross avoided taking the turns in the highway too fast, and it wasn’t due to road conditions.
No, every time he sped into a curve, Pippa’s head would loll on the headrest into a more uncomfortable position as she slept.
Great—he’d become that person. One of those weirdos who wouldn’t get up for fear of disturbing their cat/sleeping baby/any other innocent creature.
A low growl built in his throat, but again, he swallowed it because he didn’t want to disturb her. The woman had endured so much already, and they had a long way to go before he got her safe.
Which led him to the other big issue—protecting her in a city, at a major conference, provided a whole new set of problems. He already had a call in to Boone to have him meet them as backup. And of course he’d get with security in the facility and double up. It still didn’t ease his mind.
That call from her friend also itched at him. Meredith who? She’d fallen asleep before he could rifle more questions at her.
Night fell early at this time of year, the shadows on her face only broken by the glow coming from the dash lights. Under the shapeless wool blanket, he couldn’t make out her figure.
Why was he trying to see her curves anyway? She might as well be a cousin to him. Yet as far from family as possible when it came to this strange twist in his gut.
He focused on his suspicions about Meredith. He needed Josiah to run the intel about the woman, and background checks on every employee at MIZR. He cast her a look. Talking on the phone would wake her.
Pippa’s lack of worry or hesitation in her voice when she spoke to her friend told him she trusted Meredith—other than a slight hitch when she told her lie. He smiled to himself—she may not be the exact same girl he knew growing up, but her morals couldn’t be shaken.
He wanted to trust her judgment concerning her friend. Pippa had a solid grip on common sense and she was smart. He knew those aspects of her personality. What he couldn’t get over were the other changes that came from fifteen years of separation.
All traces of gawkiness had fled, leaving behind a timeless beauty, and though she was tall, her womanly curves were impossible to miss.
He glanced at her again. She’d removed her glasses and placed them in her bag by her feet. Seeing her without the eyewear create a tense knot in his core. A tumble of hair across her brow made him grip the wheel tighter to keep from reaching out to brush it away.
Whatever internal war waged inside him, he lacked time to deal with. He’d rarely lusted after a woman, and all his brothers razzed him for it. But he really didn’t have time for the opposite sex. Dating required getting to know someone, spending time with her. Relationships tripled that time requirement, at least from what he saw with his baby brother, Noah.
He didn’t really have a type, but if he did, he’d say she was an intellectual with a sense of humor—someone he could hold a conversation with and not want to drown her in the stock tank.
Christ, when she told him about her genetic discovery, he admittedly had a moment of dumbfounded awe for the woman. Then concern hit.
She’d put herself in the line of fire, her name in the spotlight. He believed somebody wanted to either steal her data or claim it as their own. Either way, Pippa was caught in the middle of a dangerous game.
Who the hell wanted her dead?
He couldn’t help but feel they were staring down the barrel of a .45. Sure, he could defend them from attack while they drove—he trained extensively in evasive maneuvers, and the unmarked truck had been installed with bulletproof panels. Where he fell short right now was a lack of information.
Ross hated surprises. Ranchers dealt with them on a daily basis. A cow got sick. The market prices for beef fell out. Just because he dealt with surprises didn’t mean he had to like them.
Pippa’s breathing took on the slow, deep rhythm of a heavy sleep. If he was quiet, he could call Josiah. He withdrew his phone and hit a button with his thumb. Corrine’s name immediately flashed on the screen, and he ended the call before she picked up.
He stifled a groan. Stupid big hands wouldn’t work with small phone keyboards.
He got Josiah this time.
“Hey,” he said quietly, slanting a look at Pippa. She slept on without rousing at the sound of his voice.
“You have a bad connection? You sound quiet.”
“I’m trying not to wake Pippa.”
“Gotcha. What do you need? You called at a bad time.”
“Why? What’s going on?” The muscles along his spine tightened.
“One of the ranch hands found a newborn calf dropped in the field.”
“Jesus Christ. How the hell did one get impregnated so late?” They took care to keep their calves born in springtime. Montana winters were no good for calving.
“Who the hell knows. We missed one in the last pregnancy check, I guess.”
“Is it alive?”
“Barely. The ranch hand got it into the saddle with him and wrapped in a blanket. He brought it back and placed her in the barn with heat lamps.”
“Damn. Any sign of the momma?”
“Nope, and it’s too dark to check right now. We’re riding out at daybreak and search the herd for a cow that might be full of milk.”
“It’s not an ideal situation, but at least you found her.” A lost calf cost the ranch e
nough money to make a difference in their bottom line, and the Wyntons didn’t stay in the ranchin’ business by losing money.
“Yeah, good thing. So what did you need? Because I know you didn’t call about the calf.”
Throwing Pippa another glance to make sure she was still asleep, he said, “Get me a list of all the employees working at MIZR. I want backgrounds on every person including their families.”
“MIZR’s a big company. This is gonna take me some time.”
“Rope Corrine into helping. She’s good at following directions.”
“Okay. I did find something you might find important.”
“What’s that?” The edge to his voice stirred Pippa.
She shifted in the seat, drew the blanket up over her shoulders and slept on.
“I gave you a bad route to follow.”
“Are you fucking serious? I can’t be off course. I know I’m headed west.” Though he had a good sense of direction, he swept the road illuminated by his headlights for road signs.
“Not the wrong route—there’s a storm blowing in from the north.”
“You didn’t check the weather before sending us this way?”
“Give me a little credit, would ya, Ross? Of course I checked. The storm was supposed to blow southeast but some stupid pressure system’s turned it west instead.”
“Great. What am I lookin’ at?”
“Heavy snow.”
“I got chains.”
“Ice.”
“Still covered.”
“High winds.”
“I’ve got enough supplies to keep us going for a few days.”
“You can always go southwest and then turn north.”
“I will if necessary, but I might not get to Seattle in time if we do. Thanks for the head’s up, Josiah.”
“You got it. Anything else?”
“I’ll check in about the calf in the morning. Run those backgrounds for me, will ya?”
“You nag a hell of a lot. Anybody ever tell you that?”
“Yeah,” he said with a quirk of his lips, “you do every damn day.”
After ending the call, Ross looked over at Pippa again. Her head turned enough to see the peace of slumber on her face. Seeing her this way, completely vulnerable...
He twisted his attention to the windshield again. The headlights caught on the first flakes of snow whirling in the wind. They were headed into a storm.
And in the mountains, they had a hell of a good chance of being stranded.
Worse—they’d be stranded alone, with no one to stop him from acting on his urge to pull her flush against him and plunder her sweet, full lips.
Ten minutes down the road, data started to flood in, and his phone beeped with emails. The snow fell faster and thicker. He rerouted his GPS, but the first chance to turn south was in forty miles. The weather could make that journey turn into hours.
He wanted to stop and read through some of the information Josiah—and probably Corrine—sent, but he couldn’t stop now.
He uncapped a bottle of water and drank the entire thing. Without thinking, he tossed the empty bottle over the seat. The crinkly sound of the plastic hitting one of the spare sets of chains on the floor made Pippa sit up straight.
She looked around in confusion, her gaze landing on him.
“Ross.”
Whenever he heard her gritty tone—he now knew as a result of her attack—he wanted to snap someone’s neck.
“It’s okay. We’re on the road.”
She blinked at the windshield and then reached for her glasses. Once they were on her face, she said, “I thought it was snowing.”
“Can’t you tell without your glasses?”
“I can see blobs. Colors. That’s about all.”
“Why don’t you get that laser eye surgery?”
“I might someday. I’ve been a little busy the past decade.”
“Busy finding breakthroughs that will change medicine.”
She tucked her chin into the blanket and grew quiet for a long minute. He’d embarrassed her—and it was the cutest damn thing he’d ever seen. He wished the sun was up so he could see her complexion. Did her blood draw to the surface of her skin? Did her flush make her freckles stand out?
“Should it be snowing so much?” she changed the topic.
“Well, it is late fall. That means snow in the mountains, and we’re heading into it. Worse, Josiah just told me they found a newborn calf on the ranch.”
“Oh no.” She brushed that lock of hair away. “You weren’t expecting it to be born now?”
“We don’t calve in fall. We like them to be born when it’s warmer and no chance of them dropping in the snow, like this one did.”
“Will it be okay?” The dash lights reflected off the lenses of her glasses, but he saw her eyes were wide with worry.
He didn’t consciously plan to reach out and touch her arm.
His hand just sort of ended up there.
She stilled under his touch. The wool blanket had a rougher feel than he knew the skin under it would be. Still, she wore several layers as barrier between his flesh and hers.
For the better.
He pulled back and clenched his hand on his thigh. “Do you like working for MIZR?”
Before answering, she unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over the console to locate something in the back seat. He gritted his teeth at the sight of her round ass in the air.
A second later she dropped into her seat with a bottle of water and the box of blueberry bars. She drank and ate the bar, taking her good old time before answering his question.
When she crumpled the empty wrapper and tucked it into the pocket on the door, she offered him the box.
He waved a hand.
“You don’t like blueberry?”
“I’m good.”
She pulled a second from the box and ate it too. Just when he thought he’d go crazy waiting for her response, she broke the silence. “I love my company. They recruited me when I was in high school.”
“You’re kidding me.”
The note of shyness seeped into her tone. “I won a science competition. And it got some notice.”
“I’m surprised my parents never said anything about it.”
“MIZR granted me a scholarship to attend Yale, to be doubled if I signed a three-year contract with them.”
“So you’re locked in.”
She shook her head. “No. I fulfilled the terms of that contract and stayed on with them.”
“I see.”
“To be honest, Ross, I’d be shocked to learn someone in the lab threatened me. We’re sort of a family. We throw geeky parties roasting marshmallows over Bunsen burners.”
He huffed a laugh. “We did that in high school.”
“Yes, we are just as nerdy as you’d expect scientists working in a lab to be. I don’t know a single person who would want to hurt me.”
He heard the pain echo in her voice, and he got that pang again—the urge to reach out and soothe her. To protect.
To kill for her.
Goddamn, he was in trouble.
* * * * *
When Pippa emerged from the skanky truck stop restroom, a set of wide shoulders loomed up. She shrank with a scream bottled in her throat.
Then instinct kicked in.
Her elbow drew back, and she aimed all her force at the man’s jaw.
The blow connected, and pain shot up her arm.
“What the…?” The man grappled with her, and she aimed another blow, this one for the bridge of his nose.
“Stop! Fucking hell, Pip! It’s me—Ross!” He grabbed her shoulders.
Shock rippled through her. She’d just delivered an elbow strike to her bodyguard. Irritation followed hard on the heels of her shock.
“Why are you lurking outside the bathroom door? You scared the fudge out of me.”
“Don’t you ever swear?”
She gaped at him. “What?”
He rub
bed at his jaw. “C’mon, say it, Pippa—you scared the fuck outta me, Ross.” He took her by the arm and led her across the pavement to the truck parked a short distance away. The bright lights and rumble of diesel engines, along with the thickly falling snow, lent a surreal feeling to the night. As if she needed her life to feel like more of a dream.
As soon as they were settled in the locked truck, she drew the blanket over herself.
His green eyes were cast in shadow by his hat. “Are you going to say it or not?”
“No, I’m not.”
“C’mon, Pippa.”
“Are we kids again and you’re trying to pressure me into saying a bad word so we both get in trouble?”
His lips twitched at the corner. “It will make you feel better.”
“Is this some kind of ‘bellow to the world how you’re feeling so you get it off your chest’ moment?”
“Exactly.”
“And you were trained in the psychology of this?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then why do you want me to say the F word?”
He dropped his gaze to her lips. “You don’t have to say it. We’d best get on the road. And to answer your question, I waited for you outside the restroom to make sure you weren’t attacked again.”
Her stomach knotted. “Well…thank you.”
“Doin’ my job.”
“What do you charge for your services anyway? What’s the going rate for a bodyguard?”
“Personal protection officers receive about a thousand bucks a week. But our prices are a bit on the higher end, due to our training and reputation.”
“How did you manage to build your company so quickly?”
“How did you make the discovery of the century?” he turned the tables on her.
She tugged the blanket up to her chin. “Hard work and a little luck.”
His teeth flashed. “Same here.”
He focused on the road. Heavy snow drifted across the asphalt, driven by the winds that rocked the truck. She knotted her fingers in her lap.
“Crap.” He peered through the windshield.
“What is it?”
“Detour. They must have the road closed ahead.”
The man must have superhero vision, because all she saw was a whiteout. “Is this safe? Should we stop somewhere for the night?”
