Perfect Wyoming Complete Collection: Special Agent's Perfect Cover ; Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue ; A Daughter's Perfect Secret ; Lawman's Perfect Surrender ; The Perfect Outsider ; Mercenary's Perfect Mission

by Marie Ferrarella

  CHAPTER 15

  For the time being, Darcy felt she’d put Chief Fargo off for a bit, but she didn’t doubt that he’d come around again eventually. Darcy was starting to get a feel for what went on around this town and she was universally squicked out over the idea of being paraded in front of some guy in the hopes of impressing him enough for him to bed her. But she’d done a little research into cults before landing in Cold Plains and had even studied such men as Jim Jones, David Koresh and assorted other nut jobs who fancied themselves leaders of their communities. Her daddy-o certainly fit the bill from what she could tell: egotistical, narcissistic and suffering from a God complex. Well, she didn’t know about the God complex, but she wouldn’t be surprised. The very fact that Chief Fargo was intent on presenting her to Grayson like a subject in the king’s realm was proof enough for her that Grayson was running a ship of fools and he was the captain.

  So what was so personal to Rafe that he couldn’t stick up for her when she needed it? She’d known that he wanted to, she’d seen it in the tension cording his shoulders, yet he’d remained silent. Would he have let Fargo drag her out of there, kicking and screaming? She scowled. It certainly didn’t jibe with that gentlemanly vibe she’d gotten earlier. Of course, they had mucked things up by sleeping together. It complicated things, even though they both talked a good game about keeping their relationship professional during the day, no matter what they did at night.

  What a bunch of horse dookie. Darcy sent a prayer skyward to her mother, hoping Louise noticed how she refrained from using her word of choice in that instance, but it certainly didn’t feel as satisfying.

  She busied herself with straightening her desk, but questions remained no matter how hard she pushed them aside. It really bothered her that Rafe had done nothing to deter Fargo. She didn’t expect him to be her knight in shining armor, but for crying out loud, she didn’t think he’d be the kind of man to look the other way when a woman was in trouble.

  Darcy drummed her fingers lightly against the surface of the desk, her thoughts in a tangle. Oh, who cares why Rafe didn’t rise to the occasion, she argued with herself. She was here to find answers about her mother, not moon after some guy because he didn’t rise to her level of expectation in the chivalry department.

  It was all well and good to use logic to talk herself down from an emotional snit, except anyone who has tried knows when you’re in an emotional state, logic means nothing.

  So when the day came to an end, and she and Rafe went home, her bruised feelings had morphed into real anger, and she’d be the first to admit logic had lost the fight hours ago.

  “Hey, I thought since I bailed on dinner last night, maybe I could redeem myself and fix something tonight. I make a mean quesadilla.”

  Darcy shot him a cold look. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well, a rain check, then, I suppose?”

  She exhaled a short irritated breath. Was he actually trying to make small talk as if he hadn’t totally failed earlier today? Either he had an incredibly short memory or he was hoping she did. “Let’s cut the crap, Rafe. I’m not in the mood.”

  Rafe wisely refrained from countering with something snide, which she gave him points for, but she wasn’t in the mood to give him much more. But then he went and ruined things by calling her out.

  “What’s your problem?” he asked as they entered the house.

  Good, she thought. No beating around the bush. Let’s get to the point.

  “I’m pissed at you,” she stated flatly.

  He did a double take. “Why?”

  “Why?” Oh, how quickly men forget when they’ve been an ass. The cynic in her was alive and well and in charge, it seemed. “Because you threw me to that wolf in sheep’s clothing, Fargo. Forget the fact that we’ve knocked boots, put that aside for just a minute, and let’s go with plain human decency. How could you let that pig of a man try to bully me into going with him to meet Samuel Grayson? You know the only reason he wants to meet me is to sleep with me. Is that okay with you? Because, personally, I think it’s disgusting. Do you step aside every time Fargo comes sniffing around the new girls? What kind of man are you?” The last part came out in a spat of disgust, and Rafe’s nostrils flared as his stare hardened as tightly as his jaw. His quick stride caught her by surprise as he gripped her arms. “Ouch!” she exclaimed but she was startled by the darkness in his eyes.

  “I don’t know what’s going on between us—something I didn’t want to happen, but it did anyway—but when Fargo came in and started talking to you about Grayson, I wanted to bury my fist in his fat mouth, but I don’t have that luxury. The thought of you going anywhere near Grayson makes me want to hurt someone, but that’s an irrational reaction that I can’t afford.” He loosened his grip abruptly as if realizing how hard he’d been grabbing her arm, but his eyes remained hot, even if Darcy could tell he regretted his actions. “You don’t know what’s at stake for me, so don’t go making judgments without all the facts.”

  “And whose fault is that, that I don’t know everything? Tell me, what are you hiding? I know it’s something, because you’re too damn perfect in a town full of nuts, and you’re up to something, I can tell. The question is, are you in with them or you doing something else entirely? I need to know.”

  “You’re full of questions for a woman who seems to have her own secrets. No one just shows up at Cold Plains without a reason. You’ve already stated Grayson doesn’t charm you like he does everyone else. And you’re not really interested in the Cold Plains lifestyle. There’s something you’re not saying, either.”

  She shrugged. “So we both have secrets.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “But that doesn’t explain why you didn’t stick up for me.”

  “You’re a grown woman and it seemed you handled yourself pretty well,” he said.

  “Yes, because if I hadn’t, I think that Fargo would’ve dragged me out by my hair. Would you have done something then?”

  Rafe’s mouth tightened with anger, but she didn’t care. Her feelings were hurt, and she’d been sorely disappointed by his actions—or inaction, as it were, and she didn’t care if she was being irrational.

  “I told you why I didn’t say anything,” he said in a steely tone. “I can’t afford raising suspicion. Fargo already has me on his radar. I can’t take the risk of being in his crosshairs. Lives could be put in danger.”

  That caught her attention. “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t—”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “This conversation is going nowhere good. We should just drop it. You’re angry I didn’t come to your rescue. I get it. I’m sorry. It was a risk I couldn’t take. Let’s leave it at that.”

  Darcy’s eyes stung at his blunt admission. Why did she care so much? She looked away before he could catch the shine, but he caught it anyway. He started to say something, but she cut him off with a jerk of her head, saying, “Forget it. Never mind. I don’t care. It was stupid even to bring it up.” She moved to escape to her bedroom, but Rafe stopped her, his demeanor softening. He pulled her into his arms, which she resisted but only marginally. She wanted his comfort, wanted him to apologize and mean it, not that perfunctory, angry, tossed-out sentiment.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice heavy with regret. His chest felt warm and perfect against her cheek and she wondered how she could want someone the way she wanted Rafe in such a short amount of time. Back home, she’d dated men for weeks and not felt this kind of connection. It baffled her and certainly didn’t make things easier for her in her mission. She buried her nose against his body and drew a long breath, trying to hold back the tears, which weren’t far away. Rafe smoothed the hair on her crown to frame her face so that she stared up at him. “I…don’t want anyone else touc
hing you, Darcy. Frankly, I don’t think you should stay in this town. Cold Plains can be a dangerous place, and sometimes the most treacherous element isn’t the most obvious. I want you to be safe and that’s not something I can guarantee here.”

  She wiped her nose. “There’s no guarantee of safety anywhere, Rafe. I could walk out in front of a bus and die right there. If it’s my time, it’s my time.”

  “There aren’t many buses in Cold Plains,” he said gravely. “But there are far worse hazards, trust me.”

  “Why do you stay if it’s so dangerous?” she asked.

  He took a long moment to answer, as if weighing his decision to share. She held her breath, needing to know almost as much as he needed to keep it secret. Finally, he said in a low, pained voice, “My son is missing and I think he’s here somewhere in Cold Plains. I’m trying to find him before it’s too late.”

  Darcy’s jaw fell open. Of all the things he might’ve said…she hadn’t seen that one coming.

  * * *

  Rafe held his breath, not quite sure why he’d shared his personal motivation with a woman he hardly knew, but somehow it’d felt right to tell her. It wasn’t exactly common knowledge in the community that he was looking for his son. He preferred to keep that information on a need-to-know basis, but telling Darcy felt like something he needed to do.

  “A son?” she repeated, staring, her confusion evident. “You’re a father?” At his nod, she said, “You don’t have any pictures anywhere of him. Of anyone, for that matter. This is the most…impersonal living space I’ve ever seen. Why don’t you have any pictures of him?”

  Rafe stepped away, knowing he’d already spilled the beans. There was no sense in holding back now, but it was still hard for him to talk about. “I had a…one-night stand about a year ago at a medical conference. I met Abby Michaels there. We had a few drinks and one thing led to another and we spent the night together. I never saw her again but I received a phone call—a frantic one from Abby—saying she’d given birth to my son and that they were in danger. I wired her some money and then we were supposed to meet at this old diner outside of Laramie. She never showed. Then she turned up dead, but Devin—that’s my son’s name—wasn’t with her. I’ve been searching for him ever since.”

  It was a bombshell to absorb, so when Darcy took a long moment to respond, he didn’t fault her. He could only imagine what was going through her head.

  “Why Cold Plains?”

  Here goes another leap of faith that she isn’t a Devotee, Rafe thought with a jangle to his nerves. “Abby was linked to Samuel Grayson. She may have been one of his ‘girls.’”

  “Oh…” The full ramification of his revelation sank in and she shuddered. “What about the cops? Do they know this? Why haven’t they arrested him or, at the very least, brought him in for questioning?”

  “It’s complicated,” he said grimly. “His alibi is clear by cops’ standards, and there’s no actual proof that Samuel Grayson killed her.”

  Darcy looked up sharply. “You think he killed her?”

  “If he didn’t pull the trigger, he at least knows who did. Nothing happens in this town without Grayson knowing about it.”

  “How do you know Devin is your son and not Grayson’s?”

  In answer, Rafe pulled the photo from his wallet and handed it to Darcy. Her stare widened. “He looks just like you,” she observed incredulously. “He’s like your mini-me. Guess your DNA is pretty strong.”

  He took the photo and tucked it back into his wallet. “Now you know why I know why he’s mine.”

  “Good-looking boy,” she said, almost shyly. “I mean, for a baby, because, no offense, I think they all look kinda alike. Except yours, of course.”

  He smiled, but his heart remained heavy. Sometimes just looking at the photo made him want to claw his chest out. He’d never held that boy in his arms, never seen him smile or heard him coo, but he loved him. He knew that for certain, and each day that ended with a dead end only sharpened the pain Rafe lived with every day.

  “I have to find my boy, and to do that, I have to play the game to get close to the people who might know who’s keeping him.”

  Darcy’s eyes watered and she wiped away the moisture with a jerky nod. “I understand. I’m sorry for being such an insensitive twit. And you’re right, I can take care of myself. I just—” she drew a deep, shuddering breath “—wanted you to care, I guess.”

  Rafe pinned her with a steady stare that she felt to her toes and assured her in a low and desperate growl that was both sexy and honest, “I do care. Too much, Darcy. You have no idea how I wanted to keep my distance from you, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep you at arm’s length like I should.”

  She understood that sentiment, suffered through it herself. But she’d never been good at following advice, even when it was her own.

  Rafe pulled her to him, gently twisting her arm behind her to rest their twined hands at her back. It was an incredibly sexy and dominant move that reminded her that she was a woman first and foremost and terribly attracted to this man who should be off-limits.

  He kissed her deeply, sweeping her mouth with a probing touch of his tongue, bending her to him in a way that left no confusion as to what he wanted to do to her, and she eagerly accepted. Rafe’s touch turned insistent and soon they were pulling each other’s clothes off, impatient to feel each other’s skin against the other.

  Darcy feasted her gaze on Rafe’s body, fairly certain she’d never tire of watching or touching the lean muscle rippling beneath his skin. Tight abs connected to a lean waist and hips, and it was all Darcy could do to stop from staring like a starving woman at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

  “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, this is going to be over real quick,” he warned in a sexy growl, climbing her body and sucking at the tender, sensitive skin at her neck. She gasped and clutched at the muscled flesh of his ass, encouraging him without words that she liked what he was doing. She wrapped her legs around his torso, thrilling at the insistent press of his erection against the hot center of her body.

  “Who said there was anything wrong with fast and furious?” she said, her playful smile going slack with desire when Rafe’s mouth latched on to her nipple, drawing the tip with single-minded attention. She twisted under his ministrations, deliberately intent upon forgetting the precarious situation facing them both. All that mattered was now. Reality would intrude soon enough.

  * * *

  Rafe covered Darcy’s body, every nerve ending going off in raucous starbursts of sensation, every inch of skin touching hers warm and alive. The need to possess her, feel her, consumed him like an uncontrollable fire from within that incinerated reason and good judgment. Her insistent hands roamed his body as his mouth traveled hers. She held in her hand the power to destroy everything he’d built, but he couldn’t regret telling her about Devin. He’d been compelled to share, as if knowing the burden would be easier to bear if only she was there to bear it with him, and though he knew logically that reasoning was built on a foundation of shifting sand, he had to believe he’d made the right choice.

  “Now, Rafe,” she pleaded in a low, throaty voice that slid along his mind like a stroke on his erection. He jerked, his thoughts a babbling mess of want it, need it, gotta have it, and he gratefully slid into her slick and ready folds with a groan that rattled from his toes. She clutched at him, drawing him deeper, urging him to go harder, faster, and it was all he could do not to spill right then and there.

  “Oh God, Darcy…” he gasped, shaking the bed with each piston thrust into her body, losing all sense of time and space. This was unlike anything he’d ever known. He felt wildly out of control, frenzied by the intense connection between them. It was more than random coupling, a satisfying of need. He could feel her heartbeat against his, the way her body cleaved t
o his with each shuddering breath. Had he ever known such blinding pleasure? The answer was easy enough as he came in a hurtling shot, his orgasm momentarily stopping his heart until it kick-started a second later with a wild thrash of life-affirming rhythm.

  He rolled to his back, slowly returning to earth, stunned. Darcy’s breath came fast and shallow, as soft moans rode the receding waves of her own orgasm. Had they—? Awareness came gradually, but when it did, Rafe turned to Darcy in alarm, realization in his stare, but words weren’t necessary. Her expression mirrored his.

  “We didn’t…” she started, her cheeks still riding high with flushed color. “Oh no…”

  Rafe’s stare drifted to the ceiling. “No, we didn’t,” he returned grimly, wondering how he could be so stupid again. There was no excuse. He knew better. Damn it! He returned to her, an apology on his tongue, but how do you appropriately put into words an apology for not using a condom? He might’ve just gotten her pregnant. Holy hell….

  He must’ve turned a shade of white, for Darcy caressed his face with concern, even though he could read the apprehension clearly in her own expression. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said. “I’m not in the right time in my cycle.” She tried a smile for his benefit. “Besides, I read somewhere that it’s actually pretty difficult to get pregnant. There’s only a small window to hit the mark. What are the odds that you hit that mark the first time we don’t use a condom?”

  He shot her a derisive look. “My odds have been pretty good so far.”

  “Well, let’s not borrow trouble. Think positive.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and popped up, heading for the bathroom, saying over her shoulder before disappearing, “For the record, that was amazing. Repeat performances are requested and appreciated, Dr. Black.” She winked and shut the door.

  CHAPTER 16

  Rafe’s first Saturday at the clinic, he played every inch the part of the helpful, eager volunteer. He smiled, even engaged in flirty banter—something he never would’ve done in his old life when he was hyperfocused on his career and not at all on chasing the skirts around the hospital, like some doctors were known to do. But for every false smile he offered in the hopes of charming away any suspicion, Rafe took careful note of details all around. Unlike the men who simply used the women around him, particularly nurses, Rafe had always known that the nurses were the backbone of a working hospital. They knew the ins and outs, knew which doctors weren’t worth the paper their medical license was printed on and which doctors they’d choose if their own family members’ lives were at stake. They knew who was sleeping with whom and who was secretly stocking their own private pharmaceutical stores. In short, nurses were like an in-hospital network of the deepest connections, and Rafe wanted to make friends within that system.