Guarded by the Cowboy (WEST Protection Book 2)

by Em Petrova

  Her lips parted. “I thought you said we should stick close to the truth.”

  He arched a brow. “Maybe I am.”

  She gulped. “Well…thanks, I guess. But I’ve always hated them. I guess it’s my turn.”

  He waited.

  “I like your…” Her stare dipped to his chest and back up. “Commitment.”

  Slicing a glance at her, he said, “My commitment.”

  “Yes. To your work. To WEST Protection. To the ranch and your family.”

  He could think of worse things for someone to choose about him to admire, but he also wished she’d mentioned something about his appearance. Boone wasn’t an ego-maniac, but he was used to women paying attention to his appearance.

  “Where did we meet?” she asked.

  “Strip club?”

  She balled her fist and punched his arm.

  “That’s all you got?” He laughed.

  She set her lips into a line of determination, but instead of punching him a second time, she pinched him on the hand, between the base of his thumb and index finger.

  “Ow! What the hell is that?” He shook out his hand.

  “It’s Hegu—a pressure point used to alleviate headaches. But it’s a painful area too.”

  He still felt the sharp stab that seemed to echo through his whole hand. Lauralee settled back in her seat in that self-satisfied way he saw her do in the office. He flexed his hand and stretched his spine. It gave a pop that relieved some of the tension he’d been feeling since Ross handed him this mission.

  “On a serious note, Boone… How much danger is Black’s wife really in?”

  He compressed his lips. He didn’t want her to be scared, but she deserved to know everything he did before they went in, seeing how she was his partner on the case.

  “Is she battered?”

  “My guess is yes. I don’t know what we’ll find when we get in there, but we’ve got to get close to her.”

  “And you have ideas on how to do that?”

  “A few, but I can’t be certain they’ll work until I get in there.”

  “So you walk in for the interview with Black and tell him you dragged your wife with you, and he needs to provide housing for us both?”

  “He’ll like that we’re a package deal. It means I’m no threat to his wife, because I’ve got my own to keep me satisfied.”

  Silence fluttered in the air, so loud he swore he heard the beat of bird wings a mile away. Seconds passed before Lauralee whispered, “Oh.”

  “Look, all you need to do is follow my lead. I’ll keep you safe.”

  She twisted to meet his stare. A heartbeat pulsed by, and he directed his attention to the road once more.

  * * * * *

  “Holy crap.” Lauralee stared at the Black Ranch sprawling before them.

  She pivoted her head, drinking in the million-dollar log home and state-of-the-art barn facility sporting solar panels on the roof. In the distance the oil well that earned Black his fortune stood out in sharp relief.

  “And this is only what we can see. I’m sure there’s more. Here we go, Lauralee—it’s showtime.” Boone climbed out of the truck, and immediately a man approached.

  She’d seen enough armed men to know that this one wasn’t kidding around when it came to a newcomer on the property. Her nerves rattled around inside the cage of her body as she followed Boone’s lead and stepped from the truck.

  She quickly remembered to slap a smile on her face, even though her insides were so knotted, it probably came off as more of a grimace.

  “Howdy.” Boone swaggered up to the man and stuck out a hand. “Brodie Marks.”

  The man sized up Boone in a heartbeat and turned his focus to Lauralee.

  She steeled herself for the acting part of this mission. She wished she was seated behind a computer screen where she felt most comfortable. What if she couldn’t pull this off?

  She swallowed the lump of panic in her throat and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Lara, Brodie’s wife.”

  “Mr. Black is expecting you. If you’ll come this way…” Though the sun was barely up, she saw that the burly dude wore an earpiece, and she couldn’t help but analyze where it might connect and to whom. An operation with security gates the likes of the ones they’d just passed through surely had an elite security system in place besides armed guards.

  Boone silently absorbed it all too, and she could hardly wait to compare notes with him once they were alone. Did he catch sight of that guard pacing around the corner? Suddenly, she felt transported to a third-world country or a compound in the Middle East. She’d never been to either, yet the Black Ranch thrummed beneath the surface, leaving her the sensation that something might erupt at any moment, the way oil had burst from Peter Black’s property.

  She hurried to keep up with Boone’s strides. He reached out and settled his palm on her lower back. Warmth spread through her, along with a bolt of awareness. She ignored both sensations and took support from the odd new connection between them.

  We’re in this together. We’re in or out together. If one of us messes up, we’re both in danger.

  I can’t mess up.

  She thought back what she’d told Boone about her scariest moment. Getting sucked into an unwanted orgy seemed tame compared to what they were about to do—infiltrating a paranoid billionaire’s ranch undercover, locating his captive wife and freeing her while getting all of them out safely.

  Why had she agreed to this again? She rubbed her thumb over the underside of the brand-new shiny rings she sported and entered a side door.

  “This is where deliveries are made, and the staff all enter here. You’ll be monitoring this…if you get the job.” The big guy taking them to Black sounded convinced Boone would never measure up to the standards Black set.

  The short corridor opened onto a storage room. Boxes of supplies that seemed to be new deliveries were piled off to the side, to be unpacked by some staff member. How many people were in his employ? Lauralee’s analytical mind worked through the home.

  In one corner of the room, she spotted the surveillance camera and one glance at the panel on the wall provided all she needed to understand the setup. All simple enough to use in anybody’s home—but the layers she couldn’t see would be the ones they must watch out for.

  “How many square feet is the house?” Boone asked as they turned out of the storage area into another hall. They passed a big kitchen with wall-to-wall stainless steel. It could be a surgical center for the size and ability to be sterilized.

  The man grunted. “That’s a question for Black. You’ll find out if he chooses to share it with you.”

  Why did she feel they were being led to a mafia boss or the like? Did wealth really make a person so powerful? It depended on what they used the wealth for, she supposed—for good or evil, charity or misery.

  Boone swept his hand upward along her spine. The warmth spread higher into her stomach. She could do this—they were both professionals. How hard could it be to pretend to fawn all over her new husband? He was good-looking enough, after all. Back in the truck during their game of fifty questions, she’d almost admitted how much she loved his body and instead came up with the line about his drive being at the top of her list of things she liked about him.

  Though after saying so, she realized that was also the case. Boone went above and beyond, and she was about to witness it firsthand.

  The guard came to an abrupt stop in front of a closed door. He pointed to Lauralee. “You. Stay here.”

  Boone’s fingers lightly traced over a bump of her spine. She looked to him, and he nodded.

  She offered a smile and a silly wave of waggled fingers. “Bye, honey. Good luck!”

  His gaze lit on hers, and she saw the approval about her performance in his eyes.

  The man waved at a bench she hadn’t noticed along one wall. She nodded and took a seat, primly folding her hands in her lap.

  The instant Boone was out of her sight,
though, she knotted her fingers into a tangle reflecting the state of her nerves.

  While she sat listening to ringing silence around her, she slowly processed the more subtle noises of a household of staff. A few noises from the kitchen. A door opening and footsteps on tile. She tried to orient herself within the layout of the house, but without seeing a floor plan, she couldn’t.

  She strained to try to hear Boone’s voice. She wished she could at least make out the low vibration of his baritone. Even the warmth of his touch on her back had faded. Without him, she really was all alone…a fish out of water, flopping on an unknown shore.

  * * * * *

  After his initial interview, Boone stepped into the corridor where Lauralee sat waiting for him for the past half hour. She jerked her head up, and relief passed over her pale face.

  “Mr. Black would like you to join us for this meeting.”

  She lurched to her feet and stepped toward him on stiff legs. Behind him, he felt the presence of the other guard he’d soon be bossing around, but his presence meant Boone couldn’t speak openly to Lauralee.

  When she came within reach, he clasped her hand. She wrapped her chilled fingers tight around his. He slanted a glance at her. Being trained to treat trauma patients and even hostages after an act of terrorism, he took note of how pale she appeared, the cool touch of her hand and the strain around her eyes, even if she did slap a lukewarm smile on her face.

  He wished he could have primed her better for the moment she would meet Peter Black. But fact was, he didn’t know what to expect. He’d met many types, some obviously good, some wearing their black hearts on their sleeves. From Ross’s recollection of meeting the billionaire, Boone expected a man who knew how to charm people into buying his bullshit. He’d expected a broad grin of welcome with a pair of calculating eyes—and he’d been dead right.

  Boone swiped his thumb over Lauralee’s knuckles. She gripped him tighter.

  The minute they entered the big office where Black was conducting the interview, Boone released her hand and slid his arm around her waist, anchoring her to his side. “Mr. Black, this is my beautiful wife.”

  Peter Black was intimidating enough with his six foot two frame and wide shoulders. But the eagle-sharp expression in his eyes would knock any man off kilter. When he fixed his gaze on Lauralee, she shimmied closer to Boone.

  “Hello, Mr. Black. I’m so thrilled to meet you.” She didn’t move from Boone’s side at first, until he gave her a small nudge forward. She jerked into action, sweeping forward with a smile as she gushed something about being honored to meet someone she’d read about in newspapers and magazines.

  Whether or not she’d rehearsed the speech, she’d done a good job on the delivery. Not that Boone was rating her performance, and it wasn’t Oscar-worthy, but his chest swelled with pride.

  Black took her offered hand and stared down at her much smaller frame. “Enchanted to meet you, Mrs. Marks. Your husband isn’t lying when he calls you his beautiful wife—you are lovely. Do you have Swedish roots, by chance?”

  Boone’s ears perked at Black picking up on precisely the same thing he had thought about in passing.

  “Yes. My grandmother came from Sweden when she was a young girl. She and her family settled in Minnesota.”

  “Like many others.” He smiled and released her hand, waving in the same motion to a couple chairs in front of a heavy wood desk.

  The space wasn’t his personal office, but one used by a kitchen head of staff, from what Boone gathered upon entering the space. Even so, Black’s kitchen manager’s office was tricked out better than his back in Montana.

  He made a show of seeing his “wife” seated comfortably before sitting and giving Black his attention.

  Without any preliminary conversation or questions, Black got straight to the point.

  “Let me see your paperwork.”

  Lauralee looked to Boone in question.

  “Our marriage certificate.”

  “Oh yes! Right here.” She dug around in her purse, shifting things aside as if she were much less organized than Boone knew her to be. The woman probably alphabetized her underwear drawer according to pattern.

  He let that trickle through his mind. Hearts. Polka dots. Stripes.

  Tiny thong.

  Hell, he was already letting his mind slip. She’d been his fake wife for only a few hours, and he was already thinking about her panties?

  At last, Lauralee unearthed the certificate. When she passed it to Boone first, he noted the tremble in her hand. He quickly took the envelope and slid it across the desk to Black. Then he crushed Lauralee’s fingers in his hand to stop their shaking.

  Black edged the paper out but didn’t remove it all the way from the envelope. For a minute, Boone held his breath. What if the dates were incorrect? What if the clerk at the JP’s office hadn’t done the job he’d asked her to do? He hadn’t thought to look—only expected it to be right.

  He held his breath until Black stuffed the certificate back inside and set the envelope on the desk. “You’re newly married.”

  “That’s right, sir.” He twisted his head and beamed at his bride. “Only two months now.”

  She gave him swoony eyes in return, a look so convincing that he did a reality check before turning his focus to his prospective boss again.

  “Your resumé speaks volumes. Financials are all in order. You’ve got an impressive list of celebrities and diplomats you’ve worked with. I did raise an eyebrow at your record in the military, but it all checked out.”

  Lauralee’s fingers were clamped on his tight enough to cut off circulation.

  “Thank you, sir. I’m honored that you’re considering me for work here. I know I can do a stellar job for you, and I’m looking forward to closing any gaps in security that may exist.”

  His stern gaze never faltered from Boone’s face. The man was one hundred percent strong-arming him with his direct stare. Since Boone had learned from the best and trained with them too, he wasn’t about to be cowed by some wannabe-dude rancher who pumped his millions out of the ground rather than earning it by hard work.

  “I’d like to offer you the position, Mr. Marks.”

  “I’m committed to serving you, sir.”

  He directed his gaze to Lauralee. “Your wife is welcome to live on the ranch with you as part of your compensation. I’d hate to separate newlyweds.” His lips quirked into a smile that didn’t sit well with Boone at all. His first impression of his new employer wasn’t much different from Ross’s.

  “If Mrs. Marks doesn’t mind stepping outside once more, we can discuss the particulars. I’m sure it would bore you, Mrs. Marks.”

  Lauralee went still. Not even a finger tremble to be felt.

  He didn’t know much about the woman, and they hadn’t covered it in their Q&A session in the truck, but he knew without looking at her that she was seething inside at being reduced to a woman who’d be bored by any talk that didn’t involve hair or makeup.

  He rubbed his thumb over hers, and she slowly released the breath she’d been holding before she nodded, gave Black a wide smile and then stepped out of the office.

  Boone asked appropriate questions and tried to read between the lines of what Black didn’t say about the position and his duties. He was to maintain security on the boundaries at all times, and in and out of the house. He was responsible for checking the cameras, keeping tabs on delivery personnel and the workers who came and went to the oil rig on the back end of the property.

  “What about my off times? Are Lara and I allowed to use the stable and ride horses?”

  “Yes, that is permitted. I hope you’ll enjoy my prize-winning horses and explore the ranch to familiarize yourself with everything.” With that, Black pushed away from the desk. “There’s one more thing—I’m in need of a housemaid. We had one quit without notice and it’s been a bit of a struggle finding reliable workers.”

  Boone stared at him, not understanding what he wanted
.

  “Your wife. She can start immediately.”

  Hell in a handbasket. Lauralee was going to hit the roof—and then blast out and do a loop around the moon too.

  Black waited for him to challenge him on the matter.

  Boone didn’t see any way out of this. He reached across the desk to shake hands with the billionaire.

  Black saw him out. The man who’d led them in here awaited Boone.

  “Thornburne will show you everything and get you started. Glad to have you on board, Marks.” Black leveled his stare on Boone. “Don’t let me down.”

  Obviously, something had gone down before with one of Black’s security guards. The rumor that his ex-wife had run off with one seemed to ring true.

  “I won’t, sir. Thank you for the opportunity.”

  Thornburne gave Black a nod and then led him away from the office. In the hall, they found Lauralee seated on the bench, hands clasped in her lap. Her pink cheeks told him she was still seething over Black’s misogynistic comment. Wait until she learned she was now going to be scrubbing Black’s floors or pressing his shirts.

  He’d tell her later. Didn’t seem to be much point in rocking boats right now.

  He caught her by the hand. The feel of her fingers entwined with his was beginning to feel more natural, which was good for their cover.

  “First, you can bring in your bags. Then I’ll show you to your quarters,” Thornburne told them.

  In silence, they made the turns to exit the same way they’d entered and collected their bags. On the way to their quarters, he memorized the layout of the house, even though soon enough he’d get a good read on it via video surveillance. As they moved past closed doors, he couldn’t help but wonder which one housed Black’s wife, assuming she’d be kept near Black.

  A few turns later, Thornburne stopped before a nondescript door in a hallway full of them. “This is you. You’re lucky—there’s a private bathroom. The rest of the employees share, and the maids sleep two to a room.”

  He looked down at Lauralee. She was oblivious to his meaning, but Boone knew this package deal had been decided long before they’d entered that office. No deal had been made—he’d been simply told what to do, and now they were going to obey orders.