by Lora Leigh
“I’m good. Thanks.” She nodded.
Shane started to nod and then winced. “Good, that’s good. Y’all go on. Brandy’ll be here any minute. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t. You’re off tomorrow.”
Shane started to debate, but the look on Hunter’s face had him shutting his mouth quickly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll check in tomorrow.”
“Okay. Get some rest.” Hunter patted Shane lightly on the shoulder then led Sam from the hospital entrance to the cool comfort of his pickup. He helped her in, then locked her seat belt in place and closed the door.
As he walked to his side of the truck, he kept a careful eye on the cream-colored sedan that had followed him to the hospital earlier in the day. He would have been worried, except the two men who watched him did very little to hide their presence and screamed Feds. Now why the hell would Feds be on his tail?
“I want to take you to the ranch,” he finally told her, as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot and headed back to Deerhaven. “We’ll pick up your prescription, swing by your place, and pack what you need, then head to the house. I don’t want you alone right now. Especially with Mr. Slick roaming around town.”
“Who?” Her exclamation of surprise had him tossing her an irritated glance.
“Novak,” he bit out. “He’s been by your house this afternoon, according to one of your neighbors. She called it in, thought he looked ‘wily’ and suspicious. I don’t know what the hell is up with him, Sam, but I don’t like the games he and Henderson are playing. Our best bet right now is to keep you away from him until we know what’s going on.”
He glanced over at Sam, watching as she licked her dry lips nervously. His cock twitched. Dammit, he really liked the sight of that. He wished he were the one licking those tempting curves instead, though. Lord, she had a strong effect on him.
“I really do not want to deal with this.” She sighed, leaning her head back against the seat.
She was pale, a bruise was blooming on her forehead just above her temple, and she was in no condition to do anything but sleep. She would definitely rest, and he’d keep his hands off her if it killed him.
He took a deep breath. It just might kill him.
chapter sixteen
“Dammit, Hunter, I’m not going to bed.” She stood stiffly in his great room. She scowled at him and sat on the sofa, her arms crossed, trying to hide the weakness she felt. “I just wanna sit here for a while.” She nearly sighed; the big overstuffed sofa was plush, the leather, butter-soft and so comfortable, she just wanted to sink into it.
She looked up into Hunter’s eyes and resisted her desire to cringe.
They were hard and cold as granite. The muscle in his jaw flexed.
“Samantha. You fought me at the drugstore when I asked you to take your meds, but you took them. You fought me at your house when I told you to stay in the car. You stayed in the car. You fought me outside when I wouldn’t let you carry anything in. We already know I’m gonna win. Stop being so damned bull-headed,” he snapped.
He was mad and struggling not to yell. She could tell, but she couldn’t seem to care.
“I’m not the bull-headed one. I don’t wanna go to sleep right now. I wanna think. I’m gonna sit right here until this blasted pill wears off and I can think straight, and then I’m gonna kick your damn fine ass.” As soon as she got rid of the headache. Damn, it was irritating. Nearly as irritating as the way these meds made her head feel full of cotton.
“When you’re up to it, my ass is yours. Until then, you’ll damn well do what I say.” His voice was low and menacing.
He picked up the bags he’d packed and walked down the hallway.
Damn man, she thought. She ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. She was starting to feel better. The pain wasn’t as sharp, and she was feeling fuzzy, warm, and mellow. It was the fuzzy part that she hated.
She scowled in frustration and defiance as she glanced around, taking in her new surroundings.
The décor was the typical old west, cowboy fare but with a few updates. There was no sign of anything feminine, but Hunter’s Uncle Zack never married so it stood to reason. Besides, it suited him. The furniture, however, was new. Rugged, heavy, masculine, and built for comfort. Over the stone fireplace was mounted a wide-screen television. Samantha was willing to bet it was equipped with state-of-the-art surround sound as well. Two recliners sat across from a loveseat that divided the living area from the kitchen and dining areas. A newspaper, two remotes, and a Sports Illustrated decorated the rustic wood coffee table.
Hunter returned with a pillow and blanket. Samantha watched him warily as he dropped his bundle on the floor beside the sofa. He stood over her, his long muscular legs straddling her knees. Her eyes dropped to his hips, the evidence of his arousal clearly straining against tough denim, just at her eye level. She raised her gaze to his and lifted a brow.
Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t look at me like that,” he growled and began pulling her shirt up. The corners of her lips tilted upward as she cupped that hard bulge in his jeans. He held his breath and grabbed her hand. “Sam. You need rest.”
She shook her head; it felt so heavy that she leaned it back against the sofa. She didn’t fight him as he undressed her and pulled her nightshirt over her head.
“I don’t need rest,” she murmured, frowning. Her voice sounded weird. “I need sexual healing.”
“Sam, baby.” Hunter’s voice sounded far away and so gentle.
“Hmm?” She reached for him. His mouth, she wanted that wonderful hot mouth of his on her.
“Go to sleep.” He lifted her a bit to lay her down.
“I’m not lying down, Hunter. I don’t wanna lie … around.” She fought it, but her eyes drifted close.
He kissed her forehead, her nose, her mouth. Just a tender kiss, lingering for only a few seconds. “Okay, Pixie, whatever you say.”
* * *
Samantha woke the next morning with a pounding headache. She opened her eyes slowly, and then squinted against the sunlight, hissing as she struggled to sit up.
She scanned the room, remembering where she was. Another blanket was thrown over the recliner. Coffee, she smelled coffee. Hunter stood in the kitchen making coffee. Follow the coffee, she told herself.
Standing took more effort than she thought it should have. She had expected to be sore, but tomorrow it would be better. Lifting her chin, she took a deep breath. She could take a little stiffness. No big deal.
Hunter saw her hobbling toward the bar dividing the kitchen from the living area. He cursed under his breath, wiped his hands on a kitchen towel, and helped her onto a bar stool.
“Sam, you needed to sleep in a bed. If you weren’t so damn stubborn, you wouldn’t be as stiff,” he growled.
She scowled at him. She knew he was right, but she wasn’t about to let him know that.
“Bullshit,” she grumbled, thankful for his hard body to lean against.
“You’re gonna fall off the stool. Let’s move you to the table.” His voice was gentle, but it was still too bossy for her liking.
“I’m fine. Please, Hunter, I just need coffee and ibuprofen.”
The man was fast and efficient. She held her mug with both hands, inhaling the mouthwatering aroma of freshly brewed coffee. He set a glass of water in front of her and held a large white pill out to her in his wide palm.
“Take this,” he said in an adamant tone.
She looked at the pill. “That’s not an ibuprofen.”
“No, the doc didn’t give you ibuprofen,” he said firmly, lifting a brow. His lips were pressed together in a determined line.
“That will make me goofy. I need my mind to be clear. I’ll stay here, but I can still help figure things out.”
“Samantha.” He was warning her, and it only made her more determined.
“I don’t need it.” She turned her head, careful not to grimace in pain, and met his gaze. �
�Quit treating me like a child.”
“You’re acting like a child,” he bit out. “You take everything as a challenge.”
“Whatever.” Now he’d gone and pissed her off.
She turned away and sipped at her coffee.
“Samantha, take the damn pill. You still have some of the medication from last night in your bloodstream. When it wears off completely, you’re gonna be in pain.” His voice was low, uneasy.
There was no way she was taking it. She didn’t like feeling out of control, and she disliked being told what to do even less.
“No.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and continued to drink her coffee. He walked back around to the kitchen, shaking his head.
He brought her eggs and toast and sat in the chair next to her. “How bad is the pain?”
“It’s just a little headache. No worries. Thank you for breakfast.” She downplayed it as she nibbled at the toast and managed a few bites of the eggs. “Any news?”
“Not yet. I’m gonna head out in a bit if you’re okay. Gonna meet with a contact,” he told her.
“I feel okay; you should let me go.” Hunter set his cup down heavily and waited until she met his gaze. He looked tired and worried. She frowned at that. When was Hunter ever worried? “Okay, okay. I’ll stay here,” she acquiesced before he could say no again.
After he left she washed the dishes, dried them, and put them away. A hot shower left her feeling limp and tired, her body ached, and her head pounded. Reluctantly, she took half of the pain pill and crawled into Hunter’s bed. The cool gray cotton sheets and heavy quilt felt wonderful and it smelled like him.
She inhaled deeply and let herself drift.
* * *
Hunter pulled into a well-kept driveway, grated, gravelled and levelled, and shook his head in exasperation. The small log cabin sat on a slope above him, the windows dark, the door tightly closed.
Hunter got out of the Jeep and strode quickly to the front door. Pausing, he was ready to pound on the window when the first sounds penetrated his focus. The hungry, gasping, female moan was almost a shock.
Hell, he thought Jacob was a monk of some kind. The sounds of pleasure rose as Hunter turned and walked to the back of the cabin.
He stopped at the side of the house, shaking his head, as he pulled his sunglasses from his eyes and stared in shock at the scene before him.
Jacob had a pretty, little, black-haired business type stretched over the picnic table, her narrow skirt around her waist, her white silk blouse opened. Hell, it looked like he’d cut her bra open rather than unhooking it from the back.
The woman’s deep black hair had escaped the knot that struggled to stay secure on the top of her head. Stray wisps clung in damp strands along her cheek and neck. A fine film of perspiration glazed the woman’s pale skin and Jacob’s broad naked back.
The woman’s legs were splayed wide, giving Hunter an unimpeded view of the soft flesh into which the mountain man was vigorously plowing. The soft sounds of wet pussy and hard cock filled the air. Slapping flesh overlaid it, and adding to the arousing mix was the woman’s ever-increasing cries as Jacob drove her closer to climax.
Her hands were gripping powerful arms, nails pressing into flesh. Her body arched, her full breasts, tipped with hard nipples and flushed with lust, were a damned tempting sight. Almost as pretty as Sam’s berry-tipped breasts.
He felt a shade of discomfort at his voyeurism. But damn, it was just one of those sights he couldn’t look away from. He couldn’t believe that Jacob had allowed himself a moment of vulnerability.
The first had been nearly fatal. Hunter assured himself that he just wanted to be certain Jacob stayed safe while immersed in his pleasure.
As Hunter watched, Jacob’s thrusts increased. The sound of balls slapping against a rounded ass filled the air. The woman jerked, arched, her head was thrown back as she began to beg in desperation for release. Then she was crying out, her body stiffening as Jacob drove into her hard, deep. The sounds of their mingled climaxes had Hunter shifting uncomfortably.
Damn, if he hadn’t wished he had gone back to the Jeep instead. The woman’s cries were much too reminiscent of Sam, reminding him how tight and hot her cunt was around his flesh. He sure hoped she got over her mad soon.
“Dammit, Hunter, this isn’t a peep show.” Jacob was breathing hard as he moved away from the woman, jerking her skirt over her exposed flesh, then fastening his jeans quickly. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Jacob helped the woman from the table, shielding her face with his big body as she fought to fix her clothes. He whispered something to her; Hunter couldn’t make out the words. But there was a surprising edge of tenderness as Jacob touched her cheek and kissed her brow quickly.
“Taking notes.” Hunter grinned. “That’s some fine form you got going there, my friend. I say you should give lessons.”
The brawny ex-ranger frowned back at him, his brown eyes narrowing dangerously as he stood in front of the woman. Then he turned back to her, tucked a strand of hair back from her face and sighed heavily.
“Go on inside.” He nodded at the open back door. “I’ll be there as soon as I shove this bastard off my mountain.”
The woman flushed, tugging her blouse closed and rushing away from Hunter’s curious gaze.
“You used to have better manners,” Jacob grunted angrily as he sprawled out in one of the large, wooden chairs beneath the shade of a nearby tree. “What the hell happened?”
Hunter flushed, but fought to ignore it.
“And you used to hear better.” Hunter shrugged. “Must have been a while for you if you didn’t hear me cursing you as I came up this mountain.”
“I heard your Jeep. You need a tuneup,” Jacob snarled. “Now what the hell are you doing here?”
Hunter walked over to a matching chair and sat down heavily. He needed Jacob’s help; he couldn’t afford to alienate him right now.
“You owe me,” Hunter said simply. “You’re keeping shit from me again, Jacob, and I need to know. What the hell’s going on in my county?”
Jacob breathed out heavily as the sound of a vehicle could be heard starting up, then pulling out from the side of the house. Evidently the woman had decided not to stick around.
“Fuck.” The other man sighed. “Took me six months to get her here, and you just ran her off.” He shook his head and rose from his chair. “Come on into the house. We can talk there now.”
Following, Hunter paused at the kitchen doorway as Jacob began pulling maps and reports from a hidden panel in the wall and spreading them out on the kitchen table. That done, he all but stomped to the coffeemaker as he gestured toward them.
“What have you heard?” Jacob asked.
Moving to the table, Hunter sat down, his gaze going over the maps.
“I heard a report there’s illegals hiding somewhere in my county.” If anyone knew, it would be Jacob.
Jacob grunted sarcastically. “Lot of things go on in these mountains.”
That was the damned truth. It was becoming dangerous to even attempt hunting anymore.
“Yep, and you seem to know who’s doing the better part of it and where they can be found,” Hunter said, watching his friend thoughtfully.
Jacob turned back to him.
“From what I’ve managed to find, we have some major players involved with this,” Jacob informed him, as he placed two steaming cups of coffee on the table and sat across from Hunter. “Everything I’ve pulled together suggests they’re using the mountain roads, paved and unpaved, to transport their cargo, both human as well as drugs.”
Satellite and ground-based maps were laid out between them, marked with Jacob’s distinctive shorthand to pinpoint areas suspected as drop-off points. One was suspiciously close to an area where Hunter knew the mayor kept his hunting cabin.
“I suspect Henderson’s involved, as well as your two deputies, Decker and Rodgers. And I’d say he wanted Officer Ryder on
the force to keep an eye on her. She’s known in Detroit for being a little too obstinate and a whole lot too meddlesome when it comes to minding her own business and ignoring certain things.”
Hunter grunted at the information. “She resembles that remark,” he murmured, ignoring Jacob’s surprised chuckle.
“Now, here’s what I think,” the other man continued. “The mayor’s wife, Lillian Henderson, somehow found out what her husband was involved in, or he was afraid she heard or saw too much. They tried to make her death look like an accident, but Zack was crazy in love with that woman and didn’t buy it. So they killed him too. Then, somehow, Ms. Coulter became a risk as well.”
“She, Zachariah, and Lillian were all childhood friends,” Hunter stated. “They stayed close.” He slid the flash drive Samantha had slipped him across the papers as Jacob narrowed his eyes on it. “She found that in Dottie’s safe deposit box. Pictures of Henderson with several men, but there’s also other pictures. Men I’ve never seen but they were obviously in town at some point because I recognize the locations.”
Jacob took the slender drive from him and tucked it into his shirt pocket with a nod. “I’ll get back to you on these.”
“So, you think we’re looking at illegals and drugs?” Hunter asked.
“Not alone.” Jacob sighed. “There’s murmurings they could be transporting known terrorists as well. And they’ve been highly successful doing it. A Libyan Homeland Security picked up about six months back finally broke a few weeks ago. He was taken through Deerhaven and thought he heard one of the men mention Henderson.”
Hunter’s head jerked up in shock. “Terrorists?” Son of a bitch. They were using his county to transport terrorists. They’d killed his uncle and two friends to further destabilize their own fucking country?
“’Fraid so.” Jacob nodded, his expression deadly still as he stared back at Hunter. “This is going to blow to hell and back if we’re not careful. They won’t care if they kill your deputy, your sister, or you to keep their little pipeline going. You need to watch yourself. And your woman, Hunter. Every time we get close, someone dies. And it’s starting to piss me off.”
