One Tough Cowboy

by Lora Leigh

  chapter seventeen

  Several hours later Samantha woke and raised up on her elbows. The clock on the nightstand said one forty-five. Her headache was still there but not nearly as sharp as it had been, just a dull throb remained. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten much for breakfast.

  She sat up on the edge of the bed and waited to see if her headache grew worse. When it didn’t, she stood and ran her fingers through her tangled hair, yawning as she padded sleepily to the kitchen. She cursed the stupid drugs under her breath for her foggy brain.

  “Oh hey, Miss Samantha.” The deep male voice that wasn’t Hunter’s startled her.

  She stared at the two men standing in the kitchen and tried to clear her mind enough to decide her next move.

  “So sorry, we didn’t know you were here. Um … I’m Ethan, this is my brother, Levi. We work for Uncle Hunter.”

  “Uncle Hunter?” Samantha repeated. Both men nodded. “Hannah’s?” She frowned at them.

  “No, Aunt Hannah married our uncle Mark, our momma’s brother.”

  Samantha nodded slowly. “You’re twins.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Levi nodded.

  “Do you live here?” she asked, putting the pieces together finally.

  “No, ma’am,” Levi answered sheepishly. “We live in the cabin up the hill a piece. But Uncle Hunter has better food, and we were closer to the ranch house so we decided to raid his fridge.”

  “Yeah,” Ethan added, “we kinda do that a lot.”

  Samantha smiled “Gotcha.”

  Hunter walked through the front door then, and she turned her head to catch his eyes darkening as he looked from her to the twins. It was then she realized she was standing there in her nightshirt and panties and that was it.

  “Hi, Hunter, met your nephews.” Her voice was a bit higher pitched than she meant for it to be. “Yeah, so, I’m gonna go put clothes on now.”

  Hunter was glaring at them now. “No need. They’re leaving. Aren’t you, boys?”

  Samantha stood still, worried for the young men.

  “Uh, yes! Absolutely,” Ethan said as he reached for his beer.

  “Leave it,” Hunter snapped.

  “Right, okay,” Ethan answered as he headed for the door.

  “Yes, sir. Thanks for lunch!” Levi shouted as he headed out the door.

  Hunter waited until they closed the sliding glass door behind them, he turned to her and grinned. “Go back to bed, Sami Jo. I’ll bring you something to eat.”

  He called her that just to piss her off. She scowled at him. “What if I don’t wanna?”

  “Then I’ll put you back to bed,” he said with a lifted brow.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You and what army?”

  He dropped the loaf of bread and advanced on her. Before she had a chance to turn and run, he had scooped her up into his arms.

  “Ugh! No fair!” she groused.

  Hunter laughed softly, impervious to her struggles, as he carried her to his bedroom and put her to bed. If she were honest, she’d have to admit that she really wanted to go back to bed. Hunter’s he-man show of dominance kinda turned her on too. But she wasn’t going to be honest and admit anything of the sort.

  Hunter sat on the bed beside her, smoothed her hair back from her face, and spoke softly. “How are you feeling?”

  She scowled up at him. His concerned expression made her feel bad for fighting him. “Better.”

  He kissed her lightly. “Good.”

  She lay back, feeling exhausted, closed her eyes again, and felt the bed sag as Hunter slipped in beside her and gathered her to him. The badass cop part of her gave way to the woman in need. She turned toward him. He kissed the top of her head, and she sighed. For the first time in fifteen years, she felt at home. “I’ve slept too much already.”

  “Nah, just rest. The more you rest, the sooner you’ll be back to harassing me.”

  She laughed softly and snuggled closer.

  * * *

  Samantha woke early the next morning feeling much better. Still a little stiff but no real pain. She heard Hunter turn on the shower, and a wicked thought whispered through her mind. With a determined smile, she walked down the hall and opened the door to the bathroom. Steam billowed out as she stepped in, trying to be as quiet as possible. She could see the silhouette of Hunter’s well-defined body through the translucent shower curtain.

  She bit her lip and pulled her nighty over her head, letting it drop to the ground, her panties following. Already her body was tingling with anticipation, her nipples tightened, moisture gathered between her thighs. Hunter spun around when she pulled the curtain back. He stood there, water sluicing over his tan muscular planes as his gaze traveled over her naked body.

  She watched his cock respond, and she couldn’t help but reach out and caress the velvety tip as she stepped into the tub. Her fingers glided up his thickening shaft as her free hand slid over his chest to his neck. She pulled him closer, and her lips slid over his, slick by the water. She teased him with slow strokes of her tongue as her hand closed around his now rock-hard cock.

  Hunter grasped her hips and pulled her close. She pressed tighter against him as his hands slid over her ass, squeezing her flesh. He lifted one leg to his hip, and his fingers delved deeper, sliding through the slick honey collecting between the swelling sensitive lips of her pussy. He pulled away, his breath labored. “Sam…?”

  There was a question there. “No pain, just need you,” she murmured against his jaw, kissing her way down to his neck. She bit and licked his collarbone. He groaned as he lifted her easily and braced her back against the shower wall. Her vagina contracted as he slid inside her slowly, drawing him deeper. He felt so good filling her, stretching her. Soft moans whispered from her lips as her fingers sifted through his hair. His body moving against hers with slick friction drove her wild.

  His mouth devoured hers. With one hand, he held her while the other cupped and kneaded her breast, his fingers skillfully circling, pinching her aching nipple. She trembled in his arms as he picked up the pace. Was that ringing in her head?

  Hunter paused, cursing. Samantha whimpered, then managed to form words. “Maybe you should get it.” The phone stopped ringing and Hunter growled as he thrust into her, kissing her hard. Then it started ringing again. “You have to get it.”

  A string of profanity left Hunter’s lips as he eased out of her and made sure she had her balance. He kissed her again and stepped out of the shower, still cursing.

  “Well, hell.” She stepped into the shower spray, her whole body pulsing. With resolve, she finished her shower and turned off the water. She grabbed a towel from the rack and stepped out of the tub, wrapping it around her. She found another towel in the closet and dried her hair with it.

  In the living room she found Hunter was still on the phone, holding a towel around his waist. Might as well put on the coffee. She ran her fingertips over his flat stomach as she passed him, not missing the way the towel tented just a little lower.

  “No, Shane, you did the right thing. You should have called.” Hunter winked at her, but she could tell something was up. She leaned back against the counter and waited.

  “Right.” He nodded, his frown deepening. “Well, that’s normal for them. Tell me exactly what they asked.”

  She wished she could hear the other side of the conversation. It was driving her nuts watching Hunter clench his teeth and that muscle in his jaw jump.

  “Uh-huh. Yep. Nope, don’t worry about it. Take today off too.” He paused, shifting from one leg to the other. “Good, good. Yeah.” He looked up at her, and his expression softened. “She’s good.” He chuckled and Samantha frowned. “Exactly. Okay, you bet. If you need anything, call. Don’t hesitate. I’ll check in with you later.”

  “What was that all about?” Samantha asked, watching Hunter closely. He stalked toward her. Bracing his hands on the counter on either side of her, he leaned down and sucked at her neck.
Her eyes drifted closed as she tilted her head to give him better access.

  “Shane.” He lifted her, setting her on the counter, and kissed the top swells of her breasts. “Decker and Rodgers were asking him questions they shouldn’t care about. I’m sorry, babe, but I have to go deal with this.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  Hunter laid his hands on her shoulders. “No headache?”

  “I’m fine.” She looked him in the eye.

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.” Samantha scowled then winced as she jumped down.

  “You’re not one hundred percent yet.”

  “Oh my God. Didn’t I feel one hundred percent about twenty minutes ago?”

  Hunter leaned down and kissed her. “Oh, hell yes. But that is not the same thing. It won’t hurt you to rest one more day.”

  “Ugh,” Samantha muttered. “I can’t stand feeling so useless, Hunter.”

  “You’re far from useless. One more day, please?” He kissed her forehead. “For me?” Damn him and his forehead kisses.

  “You don’t play fair.” Samantha scowled.

  Hunter kissed her lips. “When I get back, we’ll pick up where we left off.”

  “Uh-huh,” Samantha muttered, going to the fridge. “You got any cucumbers in here?”

  chapter eighteen

  Samantha sat on the edge of the couch with the remote in her hand, flipping channels without really paying attention to what she saw. There was nothing on anyway. Hunter only had basic cable and the sports package. Neither of them had Netflix. Just soaps, court TV, and Maury, nothing on which Samantha wanted to waste her time. As if she didn’t have all kinds of time to waste. She clicked off the television and set the remote on the coffee table, sighing heavily, strumming her fingers on her knee.

  What was Hunter doing? Had he found the camper? The waiting, the inactivity, made her stir-crazy, which made her irritable. The memory of the child’s cry gnawed at her. She was well enough to do some investigating of her own. Why in the hell did she give Hunter one more day? If he had a home computer, she could at least check some things out on that. She took a deep breath and blew it out.

  She had to find something to occupy her mind or she’d lose it. She got dressed in denim shorts and one of Hunter’s blue cotton T-shirts and tied the long hem in a knot at her hip. Braiding her hair took a little longer because her shoulders were still sore, but she got it done.

  She was sick to death of puttering around the house. She carried the freshly washed laundry she’d spent all of ten minutes folding, into Hunter’s bedroom. She put hers in her bag and laid his neatly on his bed. She almost wished Hunter were a slob. As much as she hated cleaning up, it would at least give her something to do.

  With a sigh, she wandered into the kitchen to refill her coffee mug then crossed to the sliding glass doors in the dining area. She pulled back the drapes to let more light in. The wraparound porch opened up onto a nice-size deck complete with a BBQ pit and sturdy furniture that Samantha was willing to bet Hunter had hand crafted with wood from his land. The deck was new. Possibly added on when Hunter moved in. It was perfect for entertaining or just relaxing.

  Reading too. Getting absorbed into a book could possibly occupy her mind until Hunter got back and she could find out what in the hell was going on. She went to the entertainment center and scanned Hunter’s small collection of books. Tom Clancy, figures; Stephen King, a definite maybe. She curled her lip at the one Louis L’Amour. Oh well, it wasn’t like she expected he’d have J. D. Robb or Linda Howard. She continued browsing and lifted a brow when she came across The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Poor Bill, he thought he knew so much about women. She smiled and shook her head.

  She selected a Stephen King novel and tucked it under her arm as she grabbed her cell phone and her coffee mug. With some effort, she got the sliding glass doors unlocked and the security bar removed. She stepped into the warm, California June, closing the door behind her. She walked to the edge of the deck and looked out over the pasture. The cattle were grazing far away, closer to the edge of the woods.

  Setting the mug on the little table beside the Adirondack chair, she dropped her book.

  “Crap.” She set the phone down and bent to pick up the novel when she heard a pop and the glass door behind her shattered. Samantha jerked her head around without lifting it and caught the slightest glimmer of sunlight on metal. Her training kicked in and the cop in her took over. She clenched her teeth and snatched her phone from the table. She stayed as low as she could and ran for the house. Another shot hit and splintered the wood frame inches from her head.

  Adrenaline flooded her bloodstream as she picked away shards of glass and pried the door open. She quickly crawled through the doorway into the house. It wasn’t until she was in the hallway that she stood again and ran to the bedroom. She grabbed her gun belt off the hook inside the closet door, unholstered it, and ran back to see if she could catch sight of the shooter.

  She crouched low and held the gun steady. With one hand, she called Hunter’s cell phone. She figured the shooter could have already gone, or he could be heading her way. The twins didn’t seem to be around. She scanned the tree line for signs of movement anyway.

  “Answer, dammit,” she hissed impatiently.

  “Yeah,” Hunter answered tersely.

  “Had an attempted hit, just now. Shots fired. Might need some backup.” Samantha kept her voice even.

  “What?” Hunter’s deep voice took on an uneasy edge.

  “A sniper took out your sliding glass door.” Her reply was low-pitched and deceptively dispassionate.

  “Fuck!” Hunter growled and disconnected.

  Samantha dropped the phone and used both hands to aim her gun. Assholes. Evidently they wanted to finish the job. Well, fuck them. They’d underestimated her. She moved to the edge of the doors and carefully nudged the drapes aside. Her gaze shifted from the woods to the surrounding area. The cattle had fled out of sight. Her eyes sharp, she focused on taking steady breaths, keeping her cool. She struggled to rein in her fury.

  She doubted the sniper would give up that quickly. Especially since most likely they knew she was alone. She snarled, hoping they did try to come for her. She’d take their sorry ass out, maybe take out both kneecaps and torture them till they told her who had that kid. Her mind went back to the child she’d failed to rescue. Did they still have him? Was he safe? Fuck! She had to do something. To hell with this convalescence shit. It wasn’t like her, but she would have to break that promise. She had wasted too much time lying around. The bastards were still shooting at her and that just pissed her off.

  It had only been minutes when she heard the spray of gravel and then car doors slamming shut outside. She moved to the hallway and trained her revolver on the door with perfect aim, as the deadbolts were swiftly unlocked.

  Hunter burst through the door with his gun raised and his teeth set. He met Samantha’s gaze and advanced on her as he holstered his weapon. “Goddammit,” he bit out, his eyes cold and dark.

  Samantha lowered her gun with a sigh. “We need to check along the tree line. The barn too. And the stables.”

  “You’re bleeding,” he snapped.

  She looked down at the blood that flowed down her shins and shrugged. She hadn’t felt anything. They were probably just nicks. Before she could take a step toward the door, Hunter scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom. She fought him, but he held her firmly.

  “Be still. Did you get a shot at him?”

  “No, I didn’t want him to know I had a gun until he was eating a bullet. Damn it to hell, Hunter, this is ridiculous.” He sat her on the closed lid of the toilet and knelt in front of her. “We need to canvas the area. He was in the woods, but he may be hiding closer to the house. Are you listening to me?” she asked, trying to slap his hands away.

  He wet a washcloth in the sink beside them and wrung it out. “Gabriel Sloan and Logan Grant are taking care of i
t, now shut up,” he replied sharply without looking at her.

  “Shut up? Shut up?” she yelled, eyeing him incredulously, ignoring the sting as he carefully washed away the blood and picked out shards of glass. “Who are those guys?”

  He glanced up at her curiously. “CHP, remember?”

  It came back to her then. “Oh yeah. I remember.”

  “You may need stitches…” he said, his voice hoarse with rage.

  “Too fuckin’ bad.” she snapped. “I’m not going back to the hospital. I’m sick of you babying me. I’m not fragile—”

  Hunter took her face in his hand and kissed her hard, fast, silencing her tirade. It wasn’t tender; it was a kiss that meant to stake claim. When he pulled away, she was panting. Her lips felt swollen and bruised. It pissed her off even more that her body so readily responded to him. His expression had her swallowing her biting retort. She shuddered at the warning, the fury, and the fear she saw in his eyes.

  His thumb caressed her jaw; his gaze searched her face. Her heart pounded against her ribs. Again his mouth closed over hers. His lips moved with aching gentleness, sending ripples of need curling through her.

  “We found the casings, Hunter. Checked all the out buildings. Looks like he cleared out … oh, sorry.” Logan stood at the bathroom door. Gabriel stood behind him.

  Hunter pulled away with a growl. Samantha blinked and sucked in air. She looked up at the bathroom doorway. Both men looked as uncomfortable as Samantha felt.

  “I figured as much,” Hunter said tightly.

  “You all right?” Gabriel asked Samantha. He had a hard face and sad eyes. He watched her closely, his brow lifted as he waited for her answer.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she muttered. Hunter was shaken. She could plainly see that, felt it in his kiss.

  “Gonna need stitches,” Gabriel said succinctly.

  “I’m taking her to the emergency room. I’ll meet you guys back at the station,” Hunter answered as though she had no say.