Inwardly, he groaned. The plain FBI agent had replaced his sexy girlfriend. He wasn’t sure he liked this.
FOURTEEN
It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Zack was thinking at this very minute. Whitney watched the different expressions flick across his face – relief, surprise, and lastly, disappointment. But she couldn’t let him sway her.
Once she’d come to her room to find her gun, she couldn’t stop thinking about how frightened she’d been, and especially, the reason for it. She hadn’t planned on having deep feelings for Zack. She loved the way he had looked at her and told her how pretty she was, even though it was hard to take him seriously. She cherished the way he held her affectionately as he kissed her with so much passion.
But all of that would stop. It had to stop. This attraction she felt for him was disrupting her job. She couldn’t focus on anything but him and wanting him to kiss her again or to say words that swept her off her feet. That couldn’t happen to an FBI agent – whether she liked her job or not, and whether she thought herself qualified or not. She still wore the badge, and Zack Greyson was still her obligation. She would not mess up another assignment, not even for his sultry kisses.
“Hey,” he said in a disgruntled tone. “I wondered what was taking you so long.” He motioned his hand to her clothes. “Now I know.”
She pushed him aside and walked out of the room. “You can be mad at me all you want, but the only way for me to protect you is to feel like an FBI agent.” She continued down the hallway toward the stairs. “And so, I decided to become the agent you met – the determined agent who was out to prove to her boss that she could finish an assignment without completely messing it up.”
“Whoa, stop right there, little missy.” Zack grabbed her arm, bringing her to a halt. He turned her around until she met his disheartened gaze. “Are you trying to tell me I’m just an assignment to you?”
Seeing the sadness in his eyes, her gut twisted in knots. She had to be strong. Both of their lives were at stake. She inhaled deeply, trying to gain the courage that might help her convince him that this was the right thing to do. “Zack, until the senator’s trial in two weeks, I must think of you as an assignment and nothing more.”
He gasped, and his eyes widened. “Two weeks? The trial is in two weeks?” His face turned red. “How long have you known this? And why am I just hearing about it now?”
“I’d only just heard, myself. Before you came to me outside this morning, I’d gotten a call from Captain Bott. He told me that the senator’s defense team’s application for a trial postponement was denied by the judge. They set a date – in two weeks. The captain had called me to let me know we need to be extra careful because the senator would be hopping mad that his request was denied again.”
Zack grumbled and raked his fingers through his hair. “Then maybe the shooter outside was the one hired by the senator.”
She narrowed her gaze on him. “You have doubts?”
“Yeah.” He opened his mouth to speak, but then quickly closed it. “Let’s go in your room. I want to talk in private.”
Whitney hesitated. She knew Zack too well, and he would try to persuade her to change back into the woman she’d been hiding for so many years. Then again, he didn’t have that look on his face like he wanted to kiss her. So maybe this time he’d be serious.
Nodding, Whitney led the way back into her bedroom. When they were both inside with the door closed, Zack grasped her arms, yanking her against his body. In one sudden swoop, he’d moved his mouth to hers, kissing her.
The surprise took her breath away, and for a moment, made her weak in the knees. But she quickly shook off the desire creeping over her. She pushed her hands against his chest and broke the contact.
“Zack, no!” She glared at him, not really mad at him as much as she was upset with how weak-willed she was whenever he was near. “You can’t change things. Not until after the trial.”
He mumbled incoherently and stepped away from her. “Fine.”
He folded his arms across that nice, wide chest she liked to caress. Stop it, Whitney! She grumbled under her breath. Perhaps she shouldn’t have agreed to them talking in her bedroom.
“So, you talked to your captain?” he said, pacing the floor without looking at her.
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him where we were?”
“Not really. I just told him we were in a ranch in Maine. I didn’t even tell him that Joe was my stepfather.”
He stopped and looked at her. “Had your boss known where we were heading the last time you talked to him?”
She hesitated as her memory replayed the short conversation with the captain when they were at Zack’s mother’s townhouse. “No, I didn’t tell him.”
“And you don’t think we were followed as we drove here?”
She shook her head. “No. I kept watch on the cars behind us.”
“Then the shooter isn’t the senator’s hitman.”
She shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. There’s no way it could be.”
“And I highly doubt it was a hunter.”
“What makes you think that?” She moved to her bed and sat on the edge.
“Because there was more than one shot fired. And the shots were all toward us. It would have been different if the shots weren’t so close that we felt them pass by our faces.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.” She tapped a finger on her knee. “So if it wasn’t a drunken hunter or a paid assassin, who could have been shooting at us?”
He moved in front of her and stopped. “Good question. I’m thinking it’s someone on this ranch. Joe said he doesn’t get trespassers.”
Her stomach lurched, not wanting to believe that one of Joe’s employees would want to shoot at Zack – or her. She wrapped her arms around her middle as her tummy continued to rumble with trepidation. “We need to talk to Joe about our concerns.”
Finally, Zack sat beside her. “Are you all right?”
Seeing the unease on his face wrenched her heart. He was so caring. She’d never dated anyone who had bothered with her feelings before. She could get used to feeling a man’s protection. But no, she mustn’t. Not yet.
“I’m okay. I’m just worried about this.”
“I am, too.” He lifted his hand to touch her, but he quickly pulled away. “If we tell Joe, we need to make him promise not to tell anyone.”
“I agree.”
His gaze wandered slowly over her face. His eyes still held a hint of disappointment, but mainly she could tell how he cared about her.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
Since she hadn’t yet eaten, that could be the reason her stomach was queasy. “A little, yes.”
“Gladys wanted me to tell you she made your favorite breakfast.”
“When was this?”
He chuckled, but the humor hadn’t touched his eyes. “Before I went outside to find you.”
“Then I’m sure the food is cold.”
He stood and held out his hand for her to take. “That’s why they have microwaves, remember?”
Without thinking, she slid her hand into his. Immediately, warmth filled her and made her heart flip excitedly. She groaned in silence. She really needed to remember that he was her assignment – not the man of her dreams.
WHITNEY SAT IN JOE’S study and listened as Zack explained to her father what they had been discussing earlier in regard to the shooter. She concentrated on watching Joe’s features turn from worry to anger. Because of her and Zack, her father now couldn’t trust his employees. Guilt ate at her gut. Maybe that was why she hadn’t eaten her breakfast.
Soon, her attention strayed to Zack. It didn’t take long before her mind drifted away from the conversation. Gradually, she relaxed and her stomach stopped twisting. His rugged good looks made her breathless. Staring at him for too long also made her mindless. All thoughts of stepping back into her big-girl FBI agent shoes slipped farther and farther aw
ay, leaving her with daydreams of being in Zack’s life even after the trial was over.
Would he still want her once he was free and the senator was in prison? She would definitely still want him. And yes, heaven help her, she would seriously consider leaving the FBI after that. She wanted to do something that she was good at – something that her heart would be in, too. Joe would let her stay here and work the ranch with him, she was sure of it. But... would Zack want to be with her?
“Let them believe I’m dead.”
The word dead snapped her out of her thoughts and she sprang to her feet. “What?” She aimed her question at Zack. He held up his hand in an attempt to calm her. It wasn’t working.
“It’s just something I was thinking earlier this morning,” he said softly.
“About being dead?” Her voice rose.
“No, about pretending to be dead.” He placed his hands on her stiff shoulders and slowly massaged her. “I was thinking that if the shooter thought I was dead then he’d think he had won, and he’d leave.”
She shook her head. “If he works with Joe, he’ll know you’re not dead.”
“Actually,” Joe said, “I’ll give my workers a two-week vacation. Didn’t you say that was how long until the trial?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then I’ll tell them I don’t need them for two weeks.” Joe gave a decisive nod.
“What about Gladys and Karen?”
“They can take a vacation, too.” Joe chuckled and winked at her. “Just because I hired them to cook, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to cook.”
She relaxed a bit and chuckled. “I know.”
“And,” Zack said, sliding an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as he peered toward Joe, “this will be a great time to teach Whitney how to cook. You should see how she makes chicken noodle soup.” He shook his head.
She tossed him a glare. “I know how to cook.”
Zack arched an eyebrow. “I’m not talking about boxed meals or cans of soup.”
Huffing, she pushed him away. “You’re not funny, Zack Greyson.”
Joe laughed. “Actually, I thought he was hilarious.”
She rolled her eyes. “Moving on...” She met Zack’s gaze again. “When Joe gives everyone a vacation, how will they know that you are dead?”
“We’ll figure something out.” Zack grinned. “And it’ll be a doozey.”
“No. I don’t like doozies. I don’t like drama.”
“Whitney, love,” he cupped her face with both of his hands, “we’ll make it believable.”
“And,” Joe added, “I’ll call my employees to tell them the bad news.” He shrugged. “We could even have a gravesite service for you.”
Zack released Whitney and swung toward Joe. “That’s a great idea.”
Her head started to pound, and she rubbed her temples, sitting back in the chair. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” She met Zack’s stare. “Haven’t you noticed that things don’t go smoothly in my life?”
He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. The pads of his thumbs lightly stroked her knuckles. “That’s because I’ve not been in your life until now. Consider me your good-luck charm.”
Her heart flipped, but she tamed the excitement trying to rise inside of her. The question was – how much longer did she really have him in her life?
FIFTEEN
She hated waiting for the Grim Reaper to show up unexpectedly. Then again, since Zack and Joe were planning this ridiculous plan to fake Zack’s death, it wasn’t exactly unexpected.
Whitney tried to relax as she sat on the lounge chair on the veranda outside the back door. The veranda overlooked the large expanse of land all the way to the thicket of trees. The sun had dipped on the horizon, and she sat with a dark brown wool blanket wrapped around her. A cool breeze teased the loose hairs on her neck, causing her to shiver. Underneath the blanket on her lap was her Glock. She wouldn’t leave home without it anymore.
The day had worn her nerves ragged. As much as she argued with Zack and Joe about their ridiculous scheme, she had wasted her breath. Those two stubborn men were convinced that they could make the shooter believe Zack was dead. Exhaustion had taken its toll on her, and now all she wanted to do was sit on the lounge chair and watch the sunset as the day turned into night.
Mixed emotions filled her head, confusing her. She wanted to be a good FBI agent, and she was determined to stop the hitman from completing his job. But she also knew she was doing it for the wrong reasons. When most of her life she’d been fighting to get approval from those she’d loved, it was nearly impossible to stop and allow people to love her for herself and not what she could do for them.
For years, her mother had hinted that Joe didn’t want either of them, which explained the divorce, but now Whitney knew different. Joe loved her unconditionally. And the other man in her life... What were his feelings? He was attracted to her, but only when she wore make-up and left her hair long and flowing over her shoulders, and wore pretty clothes. And yet, some of the things he’d said to her made her feel as if he liked her for more than her looks. If only she could believe that.
“Good evening, Whitney.”
The man’s voice startled her, and she jumped. Automatically, her fingers wrapped around the butt of the gun still hidden underneath the blanket on her lap.
One of Joe’s employees stopped his horse several feet away from the veranda, jumped off the animal, and then tied the reins around a post. Wallace – Wall, to most everyone at the ranch – had worked for Joe since he was a little boy playing with stick horses. Wallace was around her age, too, but when she lived on the ranch with her mother, the pompous woman forbade Whitney from becoming friends with the ranchers even though at the time it was Wallace’s father who worked for Joe, not Wall. Her mother was all right with Whitney becoming friends with the household staff, but not the rugged cowboys. Whitney recalled her mother acted as if they were too far beneath their station in life. At the time, Whitney didn’t know what that meant. Now she understood completely what her mother referred to.
What a snob her mother had been... and still was.
Whitney relaxed her fingers around the gun and gave Wallace a small smile. “Hi, Wall. Are you done for the night?”
“Yeah. I was just taking the horse back to the stable when I saw you.”
He stepped closer, removing his hat out of politeness. Whitney always thought Wallace was a nice guy. He was always so gentlemanly with the girls, and even the older women. Whitney never looked at him and saw more than a friend. His gray eyes and bright smile were his finest features. Chestnut hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes a little. If only he’d push back the hair – or get it cut – people would be able to see his face better. He was slender and tall – but too lanky for her taste.
“I’m glad you stopped. We haven’t seen each other in years. How is life treating you?”
Smiling, he nodded. “Not bad. I’m one of your dad’s right-hand men, and I enjoy working on the ranch. Joe is a great employer.”
“Are you married yet?”
His cheeks flamed with red. “No.”
“Why not? You’re a great guy. Any woman would be lucky to have you as her husband.”
The color covering his face turned brighter. “I just don’t know how to meet girls, and I certainly don’t know how to talk to them.”
“I’ll have Zack help you.”
Sheepishly, he shrugged as his gaze dropped to the ground. “I don’t know if that’s what I want right now.”
“That’s okay. I won’t push.”
“I... um,” he stammered, stepping closer. “I’m glad you and Mr. Greyson are all right from this morning’s shooting. I wish we could have found the coward who did this.”
Sighing, she nodded. “Coward? Yes, possibly. I just wish I knew why someone was shooting that close to the house. I definitely don’t think coward, I think idiot.”
“I agree. They were
n’t using their brain.”
“Tell me, Wall,” she shifted on the longue, bringing her feet off the chair and onto the ground. “Did you see any signs of where the shooter had been?”
He frowned and shook his head. “No, and we searched the grounds thoroughly, looking behind every tree and inside every bush. Whoever it was didn’t leave behind any evidence.”
“Not even bullet shells?”
“Especially not that.”
She frowned. “That scares me.”
He sat in the empty chair beside her. “It scares me, too. I don’t want to think of anything bad happening to my childhood friend.”
She gave him a smile and moved her hand out of the blanket to pat his arm. “You’re a good friend, Wall.”
He grasped her fingers and gave them a small squeeze. “I’ll find this shooter, Whitney. I promise you.”
Her heart softened from his kindness. “Wall, please don’t place yourself in harm’s way just for me. I’d never forgive myself if something terrible were to happen to you.”
Suddenly, his expression changed. His eyes widened as they darted around them as if he wanted to keep their conversation private.
“Whit,” he said in a lower voice, “I think I know who it is.”
She sucked in a quick breath and her heart stilled. “You do?”
He nodded. “Earlier, before the shooting, I saw Jim Craig going toward the trees with a rifle.”
She narrowed her gaze on him. “Who is Jim Craig?”
“You don’t remember him? He’s been with Joe for years. He’s about ten years older than us.”
She searched her mind, but the name wasn’t familiar at all. “I knew a Jim Bob, but—”
“Yes, that’s him. His last name is Craig.”
“Oh, yes. I remember Jim Bob. He always used to tease me, though.” Memories of the kid bullying her came to mind, none of them pleasant in the least. She never knew why the kid disliked her so much. “You think Jim Bob was shooting at Zack?”
The Missing Billionaire (The Tycoons #2) Page 10
