by Angi Morgan
“No way. You probably have a shrink in there.”
“So, you’re leaving, then. Such a shame. Your father and I will miss you every day, but we’ll deal with it.” Her hands fell to her sides and he swore she looked three inches shorter.
“What? Mom, this is my ranch. You can’t kick me off.”
“Yes, it is, son, but not officially. Not yet.” She stepped closer and hugged him around his waist, too short to put her arms any higher.
He patted her shoulder, thinking again. Had he really heard her correctly? He set her away from him. “You’re saying I have to see whoever’s in the living room or lose my inheritance?”
“We’re not going to disinherit you, Nick.” She turned and sat on the corner of the bed. “Would it work if I did? Would you talk with a counselor?” She wrung the corner of her apron around her hands, obviously distressed. “How long do you think you can keep this up?”
“What? Working my own ranch? Men have been doing it for centuries.”
“You know what I’m talking about. Sweetheart, you barely sleep. Don’t you think your dad and I hear every time you wake up? Or creep down the hallway to watch television? Or even play those games on your laptop at all hours?” With a long sigh she sat on the edge of the bed.
“That’s all normal, the doctors told you—”
She closed her eyes. She waited for him to finish. Her manners had never allowed her to talk over someone else.
“You’re out the door before dawn,” she continued. “And not back inside until nine or ten at night. Straight to your room and screaming from your nightmares when you do fall asleep.”
“I didn’t know you could hear me.” His parents had never said a word. What part of his nightmares had they heard? “Do you think talking about this with a stranger is going to help?”
His quiet mother brushed a tear from her cheek. He was lost, unable to respond. It hadn’t always been that way, only since...
“It’s worth a try.” Juliet Burke put her hands on her thighs and stood. “But that’s not who’s waiting for you.”
Man alive, he’d almost agreed to talk to a shrink. His mother didn’t know just how close he’d been to caving. He hated seeing her so concerned. Hugging her tight to his chest, he was unable—or unwilling—to look into her sad, worried eyes.
“Come on, Mom. It’s getting better,” he lied. He faked a smile as he released her, crossing his fingers that she’d relax and believe him for a day or two. “Does breakfast come with this meeting?”
“Of course. I was just waiting for you to get up before putting the biscuits in the oven. Beth’s drinking coffee and we’ll visit while you shower.”
“Beth Conrad? The DEA Amazon that hates my guts? The woman who swore she’d lock me up for obstruction if I interfered in her investigation again? That Beth?”
“She doesn’t hate you, sweetheart. She’s come to ask a favor.” His mother moved and gently shut the door as she left.
“The last favor she asked for involved me walking down a long pier and jumping head first into a dry lake.”
“I heard that.”
* * *
BETH CONRAD HEARD IT, TOO. She silently slipped back to the ancient fireplace in the living room as Juliet’s footsteps started down the hallway. Yes, she’d been listening to a private conversation, but she didn’t actually have a good track record with Nick Burke. It grated her last nerve to ask him for anything. It didn’t matter that technically she wasn’t the person who was asking.
“Need some more coffee?” Juliet asked, wiping her palms across the embroidered apron. The smile on her face hid any of the anxiety that had been in her voice a few moments ago.
“No, thanks. I’m fine. Or at least I am at the moment. I’m not certain how crow tastes and might choke a little once Nick is out here.”
Juliet laughed.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, Juliet. Your son and I haven’t been the best of friends since I was transferred here. The little I’ve gotten to know about him suggests he won’t capitulate.”
“Nonsense, you don’t know each other and have only met under the most stressful situations.” She held up a hand and paused.
Beth had only met Juliet and Alan Burke a couple of weeks ago. After the disastrous operation in the mountains, Nick had driven Beth to the Alpine emergency room. Then he’d stuck around to give her a lift back to the bed-and-breakfast where she’d been staying. His parents had misunderstood his cryptic message and rushed to the hospital, thinking their son had been shot again. After a sigh of relief, they’d waited with their son and had insisted on taking her to dinner. Nick had fumed and protested the entire way to the café.
“Okay, I hear the shower running so we can really talk now,” Juliet said. “This is beneficial for you both, Beth. We’ve gone all through this.”
“Yes, ma’am. But just for the record, I protested then and I’m protesting now. Kate McCrea should never have twisted her husband’s arm to request that I reside at the ranch. He’s a Texas Ranger and technically my boss. I don’t know why she asked that I be kept on the task force, I should add.” If he hadn’t, she’d be out of the DEA and searching for a new job.
Instead she’d act like a sitting duck. A dangling carrot they hoped to lure the perpetrator into making a move against her with. Tasked with the covert job of finding ruthless informants passing information to gunrunners and drug smugglers. Honestly, acting as bait was the only skill she felt competent in providing McCrea’s task force.
And until someone nibbled the bait, they were conducting interviews and trying to covertly connect the dots.
“No one did any arm twisting. After you saved my son’s life, on top of everything that’s been happening in these mountains, no one had to tell me you were an agent. Kate just confirmed what branch of the government you worked for. She’s almost a member of our family. And I only assumed there was a task force involved. No one told me anything.” Juliet smiled and raised her eyebrows as if asking a question.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss the investigation. I won’t ever be, even if I stay here. And your family may be in danger.”
“We already are, dear. This is a risk we’re willing to take by staying and not selling to the corporations trying to buy us out. We just need to convince Nick that you should be here.” Juliet rose, lining up the coffee pot with the sugar and creamer. “I need to get those biscuits in the oven.”
“I’m completely inadequate, especially helping in the kitchen, but I’ll try.”
“You’re not inadequate, just out of your element. Now, you wait right there for my pig-headed son,” she said.
There was no way to keep from liking Nick’s parents. Especially Juliet. Her husband had been very ill for quite some time, but the woman never had a bad word or complaint. Nick was her only child and suffered from PTSD after being shot last year. His state of mind was evident to everyone who knew him—and even those who didn’t know him well.
One night together and she’d witnessed the tension, his avoiding sleep as long as possible, the slight shaking in his hands when others spoke of the cartel.
Juliet was at the swinging door to the kitchen. “I’m very concerned because my son was shot, nearly died and then almost killed a second time. I can’t bear to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t been there. We have plenty of space in this house. It makes a lot of sense for you to stay close.”
Beth took a step toward the kitchen to follow.
“No, no. You stay there and enjoy your coffee. It’ll be so nice having another woman around here. And you know, there really is a lot Nick can teach you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she mumbled after her hostess went through the door.
Nick Burke had been a thorn in her side since she’d arrived in Marfa, Texas. Each way she turned in this investigation, there he stood. He was thrown in her path or she was thrown in his. Even the horrid horses she’d been on had worked against her
efforts to stay away from him.
Now her supervisors had arranged for her to bunk at Burke’s ranch and practically be bait wiggling on a hook. With one phone call, Ranger McCrea had assured the very people who had sent her here to fail that she had no problems. He’d told her boss that she was vital to the task force and that the firing of her weapon and subsequent death of an attempted murderer fell under his jurisdiction. The matter had been investigated and was closed.
Then he’d turned to her and said she needed to learn more about the area and enhance her riding skills.
What riding skills? She was a city girl, used to mass transit and high-rises on every corner. She’d refused to resign after her mistakes in Chicago. So as punishment, they’d sent her on an assignment she couldn’t possibly complete. The wide open spaces made her feel small and inferior. Not to mention the wild animals...or the tame ones.
Nothing could be worse than banishment to West Texas for letting her guard down.
Well, it wouldn’t happen again. There would be no hesitation. None. Ever.
She sipped her coffee, and wandered around the immaculate room. She lifted a picture of a young Nick and Kate McCrea back in high school. Was that a twinge of jealousy eking its way into her emotions? No. She wouldn’t fall for the hurt, silent cowboy no matter how compelling his story.
But it didn’t matter. She set his picture back in its spot on the writing desk. Every time he opened his mouth it was easy to push him further into a “don’t touch” category. Almost as far as she seemed to have landed on his “not worth the bother” list.
The smell of baking biscuits soon filled the air. She should offer to help in the kitchen again, but she truly was hopeless there. Her mother had tried to teach her often enough, but nothing had stuck. When setting the table she could never remember which side of the plate the knife or fork should be set. Of course, that wasn’t the reason she was here. The real reason was about six-three and didn’t want her near him...or his mother.
“Mornin’.” Nick’s greeting was anything but pleasant in tone. It was something close to—but not quite—reluctant tolerance. “How’s your arm?”
Beth gulped the last swallow of coffee and continued to stare out the window toward the mountains that looked close enough to touch. So did he—at least his reflection.
The T-shirt he wore was tight over a sculpted chest any woman would envy to be near. He pushed his arms through the sleeves of a second shirt that hid the uneven but nice work tan. His dark blue jeans were loose around his lean thighs. He needed new jeans to show off his perfection. She forced her body not to squirm in anticipation. She’d experienced exactly how muscular his legs were.
It was rude to keep her back to him. But as much as she’d tried to prepare herself for his arrival, facing him again was harder than she’d anticipated. At least she wasn’t alone. He wasn’t facing her, either.
She watched him drop his chin to his chest and rest his hands on the back of the couch that split the room from the formal dining table. It was probably a good idea to keep a large piece of furniture between them.
“Guess you’re okay if you’re up and about. I heard you needed a favor.”
That deep voice did something to her insides every time. His sexy tone seeped somewhere down her spine and made her very aware of how his breath had touched her there—and a lot of other places. She shifted and could see his reflection in the window again, seated in the side chair now, bent at the waist, pulling his boots on. Muscles rippled in his arms just like when they’d—
Whew. She couldn’t go there every time they were in the same room. But it was so easy to return to that blanket, next to the mountain fire, under a gazillion stars. His hair was wet, dripping onto his shirt. She’d seen it before. Seen just about all of him in the buff.
“That was a quick shower,” she said as if she knew how long his showers were normally.
He stamped his heel into place inside his boot as he stood. “Mom’s baking biscuits. Tends to get me out fast. Do you need something or not?”
All right, the biscuits were a priority and he hadn’t taken a quick shower just because she was waiting. That was good to know.
“Your arm is okay. Right?” he asked with a shrug.
She looked at her sleeve as if she could see through it to the deep graze she’d received when she’d been shot. A consequential wound that had made her woozy enough not to remember exactly what had transpired before she embarrassingly passed out. “Yes. It’s healing nicely.”
This boring conversation was quite different from their last. At that time, Nick had said something along the lines that she was an inept agent and he never wanted to see her again. And here she was feeling like a tossed-off girlfriend. Juliet and Kate had assured her it was necessary to convince Nick that staying here was all her idea. But the women didn’t know they’d slept together. That put an embarrassing spin on things.
Having to take the blame for staying at the Burke’s wouldn’t encourage him to believe she didn’t want a relationship. Honestly, there couldn’t be any fraternization now. She could fight it. She was a professional. This was her work environment. If she ever wanted to be transferred from this desolate area and back to the real action... Well, she needed to learn how to be successful here. She had to get along with Nick Burke.
Shooting the man holding him at gunpoint had been easier than facing him. He wasn’t smiling. And beyond all reason she still felt the attraction throughout her entire body.
He slapped his thighs, breaking her stupor.
“So what’s this favor?”
Chapter Two
“Your mother has a great sense of humor,” she began, hesitating at his quizzical expression. “She, um, volunteered your ranch as a favor for the DEA. Not really a favor for me—”
She braced for a barrage of reasons why she should leave the Burke ranch. Nick couldn’t possibly want her here. Should she fight him or let him win? No question, she had to fight him. This was the only place for her to learn what she needed. The Rocking B and Nick Burke were her last chance.
“She volunteered the ranch for what?” He fisted his hands and rested one on each hip, waiting for the answer. It didn’t take a genius to interpret the rapid pulse visible in his neck or the dread his voice didn’t disguise.
Nerves froze her in place. Even though she didn’t want to watch his reaction, she couldn’t turn away. “My headquarters.”
“Right. That’s hilarious.”
“I’m not... It’s not a joke, Nick. I need a place with easier, quicker deployment into the mountains.”
“I’m willing to help the task force find the creeps behind the smuggling. But you don’t know the first thing about a horse. How are you supposed to investigate anything?”
“That’s the favor. I need you to teach me to ride and survive in the mountains.”
“No way. There’s no way in—”
“I’ll stop you before you say something you’ll regret,” Juliet said, pushing through the swinging door at the end of the dining room. “Breakfast is ready. Beth, we eat in the kitchen unless we have company.”
“What’s she?” Nick asked.
“She’s moving in. Get over it or you know the alternative.” Nick’s mother disappeared behind the swinging door.
He crossed the room. His boots sounded heavy on the wooden floor as he headed toward her. He didn’t stop until he stood almost on top of her Jimmy Choo shoes. How he got that close without touching her, she didn’t know. And she hated that if he had touched her, she would have welcomed the intimacy.
She was literally nose to nose with him in her heels. Sometimes her near six-foot height intimidated men. Not Nick. The first time they’d kissed, he’d told her how much he enjoyed the way their bodies fit. She’d enjoyed it, too, more than she wanted to admit.
Living across the hall from him is going to be seriously difficult.
Loud music filtered from the kitchen. White noise Juliet obviously supplied s
o Nick could have a private conversation. The woman was very smart.
“I’m not going to help you pass the time while you’re here,” he whispered. “On a horse or anywhere else.”
“And who’s asking you to?” She wanted to retreat, to give him ground. His jaw muscles clenched, his whiskey-colored eyes burned brighter with the sun in his face. She stayed put, deliberately tipping her nose a little higher. “This is business. There’s nothing personal about asking to stay here.”
“Good, ’cause there isn’t any personal left between us. No matter how much my momma would prefer it that way and may push us together. You should have listened to me last week instead of concocting a reason to stay here.”
“You are so full of yourself.” She took a step sideways. Ready to march out the door, ready to demand another cover story and place to stay. But that was exactly what Nick wanted. “Some things are more important than our personal relationship—which I agree to be nonexistent. I listened to what you said at the sheriff’s office last week. It’s insulting and egotistical that you believe I’d want anything to do with you after that.”
“Sure doesn’t seem like you were listening. You’re here, aren’t you?”
“As of matter of fact, I looked for another place. But when it came down to choosing, the agency had the last say,” she lied. “Since you already knew I was working undercover, it made more sense to use this as my base.”
He took a step back and crossed his arms. “If that’s the only reason, I’m a fly on a horse’s ass.”
If she said that she thought he was the rump and not the fly, he’d be even more likely to request that she leave. No matter what his mother had demanded, he’d stick by what he’d said to the sheriff and be done with investigations. How in the world was she ever going to get him to open up about the shooting? That was the only reason Juliet wanted her living at the ranch. Ultimately, Beth was supposed to get him to either talk about the trauma of being shot or get him to see a shrink.
