 
# Evidence of Trust

Colorado Trust Series

Book 1

by  
Stacey Joy Netzel

### Evidence of Trust

Colorado Trust Series

Book 1

Having grown up under the excessive expectations of her CEO father, Brittany Lucas is as resistant to authority as the mustang she's training for her boss. It's a fault that lands her in more danger than she bargains for while camping in the back-country of the Rocky Mountain National Park.

Ranger Joel Morgan is used to having the upper hand in all his cases—until he runs into the headstrong blond while investigating disturbing incidents of poaching in the park. Brittany's imprudent lie of omission awakens ghosts in his past, making the sizzling attraction between them unwelcome.

As he searches for evidence he can trust her, the monster mutilating wildlife turns his sights on Brittany, and Joel discovers he'll do whatever it takes to protect her—even give his own life.

 *

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## Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

About the Book

_Prologue_

_Chapter 1_

_Chapter 2_

_Chapter 3_

_Chapter 4_

_Chapter 5_

_Chapter 6_

_Chapter 7_

_Chapter 8_

_Chapter 9_

_Chapter 10_

_Chapter 11_

_Chapter 12_

_Chapter 13_

_Chapter 14_

_Chapter 15_

_Chapter 16_

_Chapter 17_

_Chapter 18_

_Chapter 19_

_Chapter 20_

_Chapter 21_

_Chapter 22_

_Chapter 23_

_Chapter 24_

_Chapter 25_

_Chapter 26_

_Chapter 27_

_Chapter 28_

_Chapter 29_

_Chapter 30_

_Chapter 31_

_Chapter 32_

_Chapter 33_

_Chapter 34_

_Chapter 35_

Recommended Reads

Excerpt from Kidnapped

Excerpt from Betrayed

Excerpt from Conned

About the Author

Other Titles by Stacey Joy Netzel

Copyright Page

## Prologue

Trophy size horns. He'd sold one slightly smaller to some pompous blowhard last fall and made a bundle. He didn't understand the ego trip the idiots got by making up a story to go with their illegally purchased kill, but as long as they were willing to pay top dollar, he didn't give a shit.

A satisfied sneer curled his lips as he sighted his .22 rifle on the ram. This set of horns would bring in double the money and make at least one house payment and two of his new truck payments. This summer, she'd see he was good enough.

The ram lifted its head in his direction, seventy-five yards out. He sucked in a breath...held completely still once the crosshairs dissected his target...and squeezed the trigger. The animal jumped, then fell to the ground.

When he arrived at the body, his pulse leapt with anticipation. The ram was still alive. He kneeled next to the animal, and the panicked look in its eyes triggered a potent tide of euphoria. It'd been over a week and all he'd been able to think about was this moment. He'd tried to fight the urge, but it called more insistently after each kill.

He slid the razor-sharp blade across the animal's throat, then closed his eyes in ecstasy as warm blood pumped over his hand and spilled into the damp earth below. Adrenaline raced along his spine, leaving that invigorating tingle in its wake.

Because sometimes...it wasn't about the money at all.

## Chapter 1

Britt Lucas closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath of crisp mountain air. Clean. Fresh. The cold ground was hard beneath her shoulder blades while the late afternoon sun warmed her face. In the middle of May, spring was definitely in the air, although the higher altitude kept the temperature brisk. With the sun descending toward the snow-capped peaks of her beloved Rockies, and the possibility of snow in the forecast, she'd need a parka over her sweatshirt tonight.

Paelo and the pack mare she'd borrowed from the resort stables grazed on the sweet spring shoots growing where the sun had managed to thaw the winter snow drifts. The mare was hobbled, but her stallion grazed free; a testament to his training.

As her hearing became more acute, she began to distinguish sounds of other animals in the underbrush surrounding the small meadow. Birds chirped and warbled, and she imagined the light wind through the trees was the swish of their wings navigating the budded branches. Across the creek, a squirrel scolded another forest creature.

Every once in a while, with the gentle twitch of the breeze, the sweet fragrance of crushed grass from the grazing horses tickled her nose. Stress seeped away, bit by tiny bit.

_Thank you, Mark._

God, she'd needed this after the past month. Time alone to escape the pitying looks of her co-workers, and Daniel moving on with his life as if he hadn't just turned hers upside down. He had a new girlfriend to go with his new promotion from the same boss who always put business above family. Her father.

Six years ago, more than anything, she'd wanted to work by his side and had no doubts about what her future held. One week ago, she'd graduated with a double degree in her hands, then stood in her brand new office at Lucas Technologies' Chicago headquarters, dreading the next day, the next week, the next twenty years.

Mark Jennings' desperate plea for her to give him one last summer at the ranch had given _her_ a sanity-saving reprieve. A chance to do some soul searching. She squeezed her eyes tight with the memory of her father's reaction to her decision, then resolutely pushed him to the back of her mind. His betrayal had been as devastating as Daniel's, and pleasing him had always been difficult no matter how hard she tried. No sense dwelling on his disapproval.

A faint noise registered on her consciousness. As her brain processed the sound of a zipper, she opened her eyes and turned her head with a frown. Ten yards away, Paelo stood alert, nostrils quivering, his attention focused in the direction of her campsite.

Her pulse leapt at the sight of a man crouched down by her small tent. Her initial thought was one of the park rangers had stopped to say hello, but the black jeans and shirt threw her off—along with the fact he was rummaging through her stuff. Her pulse flared again, this time at the nerve of the man.

A split second before she lunged upright to confront him, his hand rose to adjust his black cowboy hat, and sunlight glinted off metal. Her heart pounded a new, panicked rhythm even as she froze.

_A gun._

_No ranger uniform._

Mark had mentioned rumors of a poacher in the park, but that was months ago.

The man shifted to glance over his shoulder in her direction. She held her breath, eyes slitted to appear asleep while her mind whirled. _Shit. Shit. Shit_. Her phone was in her backpack, along with her emergency radio. Camping ax by the tree. Nothing of any help was within her reach.

The moment he returned his attention to her tent, she darted her gaze to Paelo. He stood half the distance from her as the man. No saddle, no bridle, but still, if she could reach him, she had a chance. A quick, sweeping glance revealed the man appeared to be alone, and no mount that she could see. Hopefully, he'd hiked in and didn't have a ride nearby to catch up to her.

_Don't think about that! Move, before you lose the element of surprise._

After a deep breath to steady her frantic pulse, Britt leapt to her feet and bolted for her horse. He shied away from her headlong approach. Hands outstretched, she frantically murmured words to calm him until she could grab a fistful of mane to swing astride.

A shout sounded behind her. As the echo rang loud over the thunderous pounding in her ears, Paelo skittered sideways, his mane wrenched from her grasp and she slammed to the ground as he took off across the clearing.

_"Hold!"_ Her harsh command brought the stallion to an edgy halt. Scrambling to her feet, she made it halfway to his side when a brutal force struck from behind. Arms banded around her chest as the ground rushed up at an alarming rate.

Air whooshed from her lungs on impact. She lay dazed for a few seconds, desperately gasping for air. The man grabbed her shoulder to flip her onto her back. Any breath she'd managed to drag into her lungs seized in her chest at the sight of the dark, menacing figure looming above.

"Get off me!" She kicked and thrashed, and tried to scratch any part of him she could. "You'll never get away with this, people know where I am!"

"If you would—"

Her knee connected near his groin, and his grunt of pain made her double her efforts.

_"Damn it—knock it off_."

With a low growl, he captured her wrists to pin her arms above her head. Then he covered her body with his, his weight pressing her into the cold earth from chest to ankle.

His face lowered, his nose barely an inch from hers as her chest heaved from exertion and the weight of his body on hers. She gulped back fear to find herself staring into the most startling pair of eyes she'd ever seen. Light brown, gold around the irises, framed by thick, dark lashes.

Annoyed determination flashed in those eyes, an instant reminder of her vulnerable position. He'd walked into her camp with a gun, tackled her, and now held her completely helpless. She had no idea what he might be capable of—and yet feared just how far he would go.

Moisture burned her eyes, and she closed them so he wouldn't see her despair. His weight against her chest eased a tiny bit as he dragged her arms down to imprison them alongside her head. She snapped her eyes open to see him leveraging himself on his elbows. It gave her room to breathe, but made her aware of the rest of him covering her body.

_No_. She would not give up and let him assault her without a fight. Tears evaporated in the heat of anger, and she glared up in defiance. The chilling intensity of those gold-flecked eyes made her swallow hard and think twice. Maybe it would be better if she appeared to be submissive. Catch him off-guard.

She lowered her gaze and caught a flash of gold against the black material of his shirt. Her pulse skipped again as she recognized the National Park Service badge. Sucking in a surprised breath, she jerked her head back up.

"You're a ranger?"

"Yes," he bit out. "Now—"

"Oh, thank God." Relief flooded her body. "You had me scared half to death."

His eyes narrowed. When she tried to pull her arms free, his iron grip remained firm. Annoyance took the place of anxiety.

"You can let me go now."

"Not just yet. What's your name?"

"Brittany Lucas."

"And exactly what are you doing up here, Brittany Lucas?"

She frowned. "Isn't that obvious?"

"Sometimes the obvious is too obvious."

"What?" _He's talking in riddles._ "Who are _you_?"

"I'll ask the questions. Where's your permit?"

"Permit?"

"Your park registration."

"But...I don't..." Confusion robbed her of words. The ranch had unlimited access to the park. She shifted to relieve the discomfort of his hard body pressing hers into the equally unyielding ground. The cold seeped through her sweatshirt, into her bones.

"You don't what?" His gaze bore into hers. "Don't want us to know you're here, that you're breaking the law and aiding in the destruction of protected animals?"

The accusation raised her eyebrows. "You think _I'm_ a poacher?"

His lips curled upward with a hint of malice. "A pretty thing like you wouldn't actually do the killing, but you're a good diversion."

She gave a short laugh of disbelief. "Oh, please."

"You sure ran fast enough."

"Because I thought _you_ were one."

"And what do you know about poaching?"

"Only that there have been rumors around town. I swear, I'm just up here camping for the weekend."

"Right."

She drew in a breath to hold her rising temper. "Obviously you're new here. Maybe we should start over. What's your name?"

"Ranger Morgan."

He said it as if talking to a child, and she would've smiled if he hadn't still been stretched on top of her. She was becoming aware of things she didn't want to become aware of. And he'd said she was pretty.

"Well, Ranger Morgan, I would really appreciate it if you'd _get off me_."

He didn't move.

"I am not going to run again," she promised, hoping her rising desperation sounded more like exasperation. "The only reason I did the first time is because I saw your gun when you were going through my things, and I was afraid you might try to...um..."

Her hesitation seemed to clue him in. His eyebrows drew together as his gaze flicked downward. For a brief moment, his grip tightened on her wrists, then he released her arms and pushed to his feet.

Ignoring his outstretched arm, she stood on her own before brushing off her hands on the seat of her jeans while turning to see Paelo still waiting for her. She called him with a soft command and the stallion moved over to her. Rubbing her palms up along his velvety muzzle, she snuck a glance at the ranger to find him watching her horse with open amazement.

He'd secured his gun in a side holster on his belt, but rested his hand on the butt of the weapon, as if ready to draw at a seconds notice. His gaze shifted back to her, his expression grim once more. "Why are you up here?"

"I thought we covered that already."

"Let's assume I choose to believe you're telling the truth. This is still a restricted area. Permits are required for camping."

"So you've said." Paelo returned to grazing, so she turned to face the ranger and explain exactly why she didn't have an individual permit.

He stepped closer, his finger jabbing toward her through the air. "You may think you're above everyone else, but spoiled little rich girls need to register just like the rest of the common folk."

She barely kept her mouth from hanging open. _Spoiled little rich girls?_ Screw him. He knew nothing about her. Wasn't going to either, she decided. Sure, she could tell him the ranch had unrestricted access to the park, but he didn't believe she was camping, so why would he believe anything else she said?

"Thank you, sir. Now I know for the future."

"No." He gave a shake of his head, swept his gaze over her campsite, then turned his glare back on her. "Not good enough. You can't stay here. You're going to have to pack up and go."

Seriously? Casting a pointed glance toward the setting sun, she saw it was partially obscured by a low bank of thick, white clouds that stretched along the horizon. The weatherman had said _possibility of light snow_ , but she didn't like the look of them any more than she liked Ranger Morgan's hostile tone.

"It's too late to leave tonight."

When she moved to brush past him, his hand clamped on her arm.

"At first light then," he ground out, clearly annoyed that she was right. "I'll drag you from your tent if I have to."

She jerked free, resisting an urge to massage the tingling feeling that remained from his touch. Batting her eyelashes, she gave him a sugary smile just to piss him off. "Surely you wouldn't disturb my beauty rest?"

"First light," he repeated through a jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder he got the words out. As he turned away, he muttered what sounded like, "Now I'm a damn baby-sitter."

Hands fisted on her hips, Britt glared after his retreating back. Oh, this guy was a piece of work. She'd make sure to be gone before dawn's early light, and if she was lucky, she wouldn't run into the jerk again for the rest of the summer.

## Chapter 2

By the time Joel Morgan hiked back to where he'd tied his gelding, he concluded Ms. Brittany Lucas was either one hell of an actress, or she really was just camping. Unfortunately, he didn't think she could've fabricated the surprise in those wide green eyes. Not to mention, the genuine relief that had softened her resistance when she'd spotted his badge spoke volumes.

A thief could've faked the words, but not the involuntary physical reaction.

Still, he needed to keep an eye on her and make sure she left the area. Not only because she was in a restricted area, but for the precise reason she'd given for running from him. A camper alone in the backcountry wasn't a good idea to begin with. A woman as pretty as her by herself with a poacher stalking the area put the situation from bad to worse.

He'd felt the stirring of physical reaction as she lay beneath him, all soft curves and a thick mass of blond curls fanned out on the grass. The sick bastard who was responsible for murdering and decapitating the bighorn sheep likely wouldn't have any issues assaulting her as she'd feared _he_ might.

Yeah, she was right to be afraid—he just wished she'd have considered _that_ before hitting the trail. He may be new to the Rocky Mountain National Park, but the responsibility of keeping visitors safe weighed on his shoulders, no matter how much the woman's blatant disregard for the rules irked him.

The ghosts of his past tried to sneak up from behind. Joel shrugged them away. People in his past may not have needed him, but these mountains did, and so did the animals. That's all that mattered.

He radioed into headquarters to report his location for the night as he swung into the saddle. One of the rangers who'd been assisting with his investigation answered the call.

"Find anything interesting up there?" Randy Gifford asked.

"Just a camper in a restricted area."

"You think it could be the guy you're looking for?"

"It's a woman. Camping where she shouldn't be. I'm going to make sure she leaves in the morning, then return to my original route."

"You may want to reconsider. That storm front I mentioned earlier is moving a lot faster than expected. It's over the Never Summer Mountain Range and will reach your area tonight. Temperature's dropping, too, so be prepared."

Joel surveyed the heavy, gray clouds he'd noticed earlier. "What are they forecasting?"

"If it keeps moving, a couple inches. If it stalls, up to a foot."

He muttered a curse. That would be a problem. "If that happens, we could be up here for a few days, so yeah, scrap the original route. The closest trailhead is Longs Peak, can you get someone to drop off my truck and trailer over there in the morning?"

"Will do."

Five minutes later, he rode back into Brittany Lucas's camp as she threw a couple pieces of wood on the campfire that'd been nothing but banked coals when he left. She brushed off her hands before bracing them on her hips.

"Now what?"

He dismounted to unpack his gear. "I'll be camping here with you tonight."

"Ranger Morgan, let me assure you, I have every intention of leaving in the morning."

"And until then, I'll make sure you stay safe."

"I don't need you to babysit me," she insisted, irritation flooding her voice as she sat by the fire.

Ignoring the fact she'd heard him earlier, he met her stare over the top of Nobel's saddle. "You got a gun?"

Her gaze faltered. "No."

"Well, the poacher does, so I'm staying." That shut her up, until he tossed his sleeping bag inside her tent.

"I don't think so." She shot to her feet.

"Don't worry, I promise I'll stay on my own side."

"No." She stalked over and half-crawled into the tent to drag his bag out. When she straightened, she shoved the roll into his chest. "We can share a fire, but you are _not_ sleeping in _my_ tent."

He fisted his hand in the material, leaned around her, and tossed it back inside. When she would've spun around, he grasped her arm to keep her facing him. "Did you happen to notice those clouds rolling in?"

She lifted her head toward the darkening sky, and he read the concern in her eyes.

"We've got a storm headed our way," he confirmed. "We're better off sharing body heat to keep one tent warm instead of two."

A mutinous glint lit her eyes as she jerked free. "I'll take my chances alone."

Of course she would. "You take too many chances alone," he said, returning to Nobel's side. After unbuckling the cinch, he gave a jerk to loosen the saddle and decided to try to reason with her. "I realize the situation is not ideal, but the temperature is predicted to drop, and we could get upwards of a foot of snow."

"So?"

He met her gaze over the horse's back. "So, it's my job as a ranger to keep you safe, and that includes making sure you don't freeze to death." When she reached inside the tent once more, he lost his patience. "You're on _my_ turf, which means _my_ rules. Unless you're worried about keeping your hands to yourself?"

She straightened to face him, hands empty, gaze narrowed. "Oh, please. Spare me the ego."

When she stomped away without further protest, a smile tugged the corners of his mouth. Talk about an easy bait, and definitely something to keep in mind. She didn't like being challenged whether it was in her favor or not.

While he unpacked the rest of his gear, she returned to camp with an armload of wood. He watched her walk away again, then turned a speculative eye toward her tent. Top of the line, the best money could buy. Same with her backpack and other gear. He hadn't missed the mutiny in her expression when he'd called her a spoiled little rich girl, and now he wondered how much truth the statement held.

His initial, knee-jerk assessment of the beautiful woman and the evidence of money was impairing his judgment, but he couldn't let those damned ghosts distract him. An objective evaluation of the contrary evidence was in order.

Her gear, her horse, and her attitude suggested he was right on the money with his initial assumption. Her roughing it alone in the mountains—expensive equipment or not—suggested otherwise. Evidence that didn't add up bugged him. Made him want to dig deeper because usually the evidence was the only thing he trusted.

He led Nobel a short distance away and tied him up, making sure he had enough room to graze before the snow started piling up. He didn't like the idea of him being out in the elements all night, but couldn't do much about it other than give the gelding a double helping of grain.

In the gloom of dusk, he saw Brittany also settling her horses for the night.

"That's some stallion you have there," he commented. "How old is he?"

"Four."

"Impressive training."

"Thanks."

"Who'd you take him to?"

"No one you'd know."

Whoever it was must've cost a fortune—like the horse itself. The Arabian's pure bloodlines were evident in his exceptional conformation; small ears, delicate dip in the nose, beautiful arch to his neck, and fine-boned legs.

"I've done a bit of training myself," Joel told her as they made their way back to the campfire. "But I've never seen a horse respond to a command in a situation like he did earlier."

"Yeah, well, I guess I could've done better there. I'll have to work on adding an attack command."

Joel gave her a quick glance. " _You_ trained him?"

She scooped up one of her bags and thumped it down closer to the fire. "What's so hard to believe about that? You don't even know me. What I do, where I come from—nothing. There's that saying about making assumptions, except you're the only one making an ass of yourself."

Joel saw fire in her eyes, and it definitely wasn't a reflection of the one crackling in front of her. She was right, he didn't know a damn thing about her. It was time he found out.

He sat down on the single large log she'd positioned as a seat. "Then, tell me, Ms. Lucas, what do you do? Where do you come from?"

"None of your business."

He couldn't stop a chuckle. "It's going to be a long night if you can't answer a few questions."

"Not for me, I brought a book. I hadn't planned on company."

"You sure about that?" he baited, casting a pointed glance at her camping gear. "Animals bring a good price on the black market, and you're certainly not hurting for cash."

Her gaze swept over her stuff as if seeing it through his eyes and comprehension dawned in her expression. "Oh, wow. If you're suggesting _my_ expensive gear incriminates me as a poacher, then I can tell you why you haven't caught them yet."

"Please, enlighten me."

She reached into her backpack, then tossed him a square, palm-sized item that he caught with one hand. "You haven't been looking in the right place."

## Chapter 3

Britt watched Ranger Morgan open her compact and take a look in the mirror. She'd noticed his saddle, the brand on his sleeping bag, and the excellent conformation of his quarter horse gelding. He had absolutely no room to judge with his _ass-_ umptions.

His deep chuckle surprised her. "Touché."

When those gold-flecked eyes rose to hers and his smile flashed, her pulse skipped, then kept tripping along at a pace that annoyed the hell out of her. Cripes, since realizing he wasn't some dangerous lunatic, every time she let her gaze rest on his face, he was better looking than before. Especially with the dark stubble shadowing his jaw line.

Except he was also a bossy, arrogant jerk. He could've asked her to share the tent instead of just declaring _my turf, my rules_. Recalling his comment about keeping her hands to herself, she added _conceited_ to her list of descriptive adjectives. His tall, dark and irritatingly good looks shouldn't have any effect on her—especially after only one smile.

He made a motion with his hand, and she raised hers to catch the mirror as he lobbed it back across the fire. Then he reached over to grab his own pack. "So, are we dining dutch, or do you want to pool our resources?"

Much as he annoyed her, she didn't relish the thought of verbally sparring with him all night, so she gave a careless shrug. "Whatever."

"What do you got?"

They settled on the thirteen-inch brook trout she'd caught earlier—for which she did possess a license—and he contributed a packet of wild grain rice. She declined his offer to clean the fish, then felt the weight of his accessing gaze while she scraped off the scales and filleted the meat off the bones. Tension tightened her shoulders, making her slip more than once with the sharp knife.

A few snowflakes had begun to drift down, so she seized on any excuse to distract him. "If you really want to help, Ranger Morgan, you could cover the firewood so we have dry fuel in the morning."

"My name is Joel," he stated.

She frowned at the irritation in his voice. "No need to get all testy about it. You're the one who introduced yourself as Ranger Morgan."

"You were under suspicion, I had to sound official."

"Well, you officially sound like a jerk, so maybe you could relax a bit."

He stood, jaw clenched tight again. When she met his gaze with a challenging tilt of her chin, he surprised her with a brusque nod. "You're right. Sorry."

As he moved off into the darkness beyond the firelight, she forced her attention away from his broad shoulders. Cleanup seemed a good distraction. The frigid stream rinsed her fish-slimy tools and she returned to find the wood covered, and Ranger Morgan— _Joel_ —arranging a second log near the fire so they'd both have a place to sit.

She pan-fried the fish while he boiled the rice, and other than his compliment on the trout, they ate in silence. She kept thinking she should say something, but despite his apology, his expression didn't appear any more welcoming than before and she held her tongue.

Snow had begun to fall at a steady clip, covering the ground in a thin layer of white by the time they finished. After dinner, cleanup went fast, too fast, because before she knew it, it was time to retire to the tent.

Together. All night, just the two of them, in that tiny, little, confined space.

With the storm moving in, what if they were stuck up here for another whole day? Her pulse increased despite silent admonishments and a reminder that she didn't even like the guy. She quickly removed her boots and slid into her sleeping bag while he tended the fire. Instead of spreading out the larger chunks of charred wood, he arranged them together in the center.

Flames bloomed skyward as she asked, "Why not just put it out?"

He squatted down and reached inside the tent to unroll his sleeping bag. "Wind's not bad yet, so I figured I'd let it burn as much as possible before heading back out to finish it off."

She flipped onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hand to gaze through the open tent flap. The snowflakes floated down, bright dots of white against the backdrop of the fire and dark mountains. Beautiful. Plus, watching the snowfall was safer than watching him.

He finished arranging his bag, then spun around to sit facing outward as well. His presence dwarfed the already small tent, and again, the silence grated on her nerves. Ironic really, when she'd specifically come up here for the peace and quiet. Except she'd planned to be alone, not dealing with a complete stranger who kept her on edge.

Up here was her heaven on earth, and she felt a tiny spurt of resentment that he'd ruined her solitude tonight.

"This is nice."

His low voice startled her. From the corner of her eye, it appeared he was also staring outside.

More silence, then an even softer, "Like heaven on earth."

Now she jerked her head toward him; her breath caught in her throat from hearing her thoughts in his voice. He stiffened, flicked his gaze to her, then gave a shrug and maneuvered to stretch out on his sleeping bag. "It may sound stupid to you, but up in the mountains, it seems like the closest thing to heaven."

She didn't want to connect with him over something so elemental, yet couldn't help admitting, "I know exactly what you mean. Hard to find this in Chicago."

"Ah, you're a city girl."

The slight disdain in his words put her back on the defensive. "Not in my heart. Where are you from?"

"Montana."

"I've never been there."

"It's just as beautiful."

The combination of flakes and flames were mesmerizing, and even with the distraction of Joel Morgan beside her, exhaustion crept up. She'd only had a few hours sleep after the long drive from Illinois before hitting the trail early that morning. Add in the fresh mountain air and high altitude, and she didn't think she'd be able to keep her eyes open much...

The snap of the tent flap against the nylon side jerked her awake in time to see Joel sit up. The wind had picked up, swirling the snowflakes and blowing them inside.

"Stay here," he instructed on his way out. "I'll check the horses and take care of the fire."

Tempting as the offer was, she crawled from the warmth of her sleeping bag, pulled on her boots, and joined him outside. Zipping her jacket on to ward off the cold wind, she marched past him through the layer of snow already coating the ground. "My horses, my responsibility."

"Suit yourself."

After checking Paelo and the pack mare were both okay as they stood tail to the wind with the ranger's gelding, she made a quick bathroom run, then returned to the tent. Joel took care of the fire while she lit a lantern. Once he was back inside and they'd zipped up tight, she gave voice to her growing concern over the storm. She also wanted to let him know she wasn't an idiot who went camping in the spring in the mountains without checking the weather.

"I swear, the weatherman said possibility of light snow."

"We'll be fine, it's not like we're lost."

"I know." She stifled a yawn. "I guess I'm going to get some sleep in case we're able to head out in the morning."

She shifted to her side with her back to him, then lay there listening to him move around after he'd shut off the lantern. She closed her eyes. Opened them again to stare into the darkness when he sighed softly. Listened to his breathing, and then he shifted again.

Strange that while she'd never been more uncomfortably aware of someone in her life, she didn't fear his close proximity. After only a couple hours with him, her instincts completely trusted him to be an honorable man.

"You still awake?" he asked above the sounds of the storm outside.

"Unfortunately."

"You said you brought a book?"

"Yes."

"Mind if I read for a little bit?"

"It's a romance."

Another sigh. "Forget it."

She smiled into the darkness and went to sleep.

 *

Britt became aware of two things as she woke: her nose was cold, and something heavy spanned her waist, making movement inside the confines of her sleeping bag impossible. She remembered Ranger Morgan insisting she share her tent and stiffened with the realization she was snugged up tight against his six-foot frame.

Her heart pounded, and she wondered if she'd made a mistake trusting him so completely based solely on the fact he was a ranger. A slow, deep breath allowed her to take stock of both sleeping bags still between them and negated her anxiety.

She cast a cautious look in his direction to find his head rested not far from hers, dark eyelashes fanned against strong cheekbones, lips slightly parted. His even breathing told her he remained asleep, and she lifted her head to see his arm curved over her waist, holding her close.

Now what? She set her head back down on her small pillow. Her arms were trapped under the weight of his muscled forearm. She could try to shove him off, but would've preferred slipping from the tent instead of waking him.

Against her better judgment, she rolled her head sideways once more. He was something to look at. His lashes and eyes were beautiful, but when added to his dark, prominent eyebrows and combined with that stubble-covered jaw, ruggedly handsome was the more apt description. Her gaze drifted down to his mouth, that full bottom lip softened while he slept.

What would it be like to kiss him?

She closed her eyes to halt the path her traitorous mind started down, but then imagined his hands pressing her close as his mouth covered hers. Then he'd feather kisses across her cheek, down her neck, between her...

He muttered in his sleep, and his arm tightened. Appalled at the speed her impromptu fantasy had progressed, she was embarrassed to discover her breathing had quickened. After the past couple weeks, the absolute last thing she should be doing was fantasizing about a man. Even a sinfully sexy man such as Ranger Joel Morgan.

She took a slow, deep breath to calm her racing pulse and decided it was time to quit being a chicken and get moving.

"Ranger Morgan." It came out low and husky, her voice still rough from sleep. He didn't move, so she raised her voice. "Joel."

Those thick lashes lifted, revealing his golden-brown eyes. In that heart-stopping moment, his body tensed and awareness gathered in his warm gaze. The weight on her waist lifted. With their gazes locked, she hesitated, and then it was too late. His hand brushed her hair from her cheek, cupped the back of her head, and urged her forward.

Her heart thudded in her chest. She should stop him. Common sense demanded it. Still...hadn't she just imagined this?

His mouth met hers in a kiss that was an odd combination of confidence and caution. After a moment, his tongue slid along her bottom lip as he rolled her onto her back. Half-lying over her, he braced his weight on his forearm while deepening the kiss.

Nothing prepared her for the hot wave of desire that swept through her as his tongue coaxed her response. She lifted a hand to his shoulder, but instead of pushing him away, she fisted her fingers in the material of his shirt and hung on. The sexy rasp of his unshaven jaw contrasted with the smooth warmth of his mouth, and she wanted more. Like the daydream from a few moments earlier.

The thought jolted her back to reality.

She had to stop him. Stop _herself_.

As if sensing her withdrawal, he dragged his mouth off hers to bury his face in her hair. While they both struggled to regain control of their breathing, she was aware of a conflicting mixture of relief and disappointment.

She felt his smile against her cheek as he said, "And you gave your word you'd keep your hands to yourself."

## Chapter 4

Joel's attempt to diffuse the situation with humor earned him a surprisingly strong shove that landed him back on his side of the tent.

She sat up, fire flashing in her eyes. " _You_ kissed _me._ "

"You kissed back." A weak defense, but at the moment, all he had.

The blush in her cheeks climbed to her hairline. "I was half asleep."

_Bullshit_. But, no sense letting a good fib go to waste. "Fine, so was I—now we're both off the hook."

When he carefully pushed into a sitting position, she scrambled further away, then straightened her spine and held her ground. "Don't do it again."

The imperial tone and haughty expression wiped out his remorse. "No problem."

She slipped on her boots and reached for her backpack. "Wait here until I get back."

"I'm not a peeping Tom."

"I didn't mean that, I—"

"Just go, would you?" He reached over and yanked up the tent zipper. Snow fell in through the opening at the bottom.

Once she'd left, Joel lay back on his sleeping bag and did his best to will his morning arousal away. Yeah, even after that lovely little scene, he was still sporting a hard on. Thank God for the bulk of their sleeping bags. He'd acted like a teenager, but hell, her soft lips so close to his had made him hunger for just a taste. And the sound of his name in that sexy, husky voice, added to the thought of her lying beneath him—

_Damn, not helping_.

With a snort of disgust, he pulled out some clean clothes and began to change. What the hell was he thinking? She reminded him of Deanna, and hadn't he more than learned his lesson with her?

Rich, beautiful, independent. Not bad attributes, per se. In fact, the last two had attracted him enough to Deanna that for the first time since his mother left when he was eight, he'd left his heart unguarded. A few weeks, and he'd fallen fast and hard.

Only, when he'd told her he loved her, she'd laughed in his face. Said he was a wonderful diversion in bed, but she couldn't marry a forest ranger when she was already engaged to a partner at her father's law firm.

His jaw clenched with the unwelcome memory. These days, he didn't touch women like her—like his mother—with a ten-foot pole.

Joel pushed away that particular ghost and pulled on his cowboy boots. Figuring he'd given Brittany enough time to take care of business, he exited the tent and went the opposite direction of her trail through the nine inches of pristine snow. When he tromped back a few minutes later, he found all their gear set off to the side as she cleared snow from around the edges of the tent and began pulling stakes.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Going somewhere?"

"It was your decree that I leave this morning. I'm just following orders, Ranger Morgan."

"That was before the snow," he pointed out. "Once it starts melting, the trail could get slippery for the horses. It's better to wait."

"Yeah...I'm going to let the snow melt all day, freeze tonight, and then leave first thing _tomorrow_ morning on icy trails? No thanks."

Damn it all, she had a point. Once again, resentment was clouding his common sense. "Aren't you at least going to make breakfast?"

She kept working on the tent. "I have a protein bar for the trail."

"Well, I need coffee."

"Have at it."

She gestured toward the fire pit that was only discernible by the two log seats mounded with snow. In the time it'd take for him to start the fire and boil the water for a cup of instant coffee, she'd be gone. Guess he'd have to deal with a lack of caffeine today. He grabbed his things from where she'd set them in the snow and went to get Nobel ready.

Watching her efficiency with the tent, he noted she was no beginning camper. By the time Nobel was saddled, she carried everything over to her packhorse. While she began to secure her gear, Joel approached her stallion.

"I'll take care of him," she stated.

His feet were getting cold in his boots, so he picked up one of her brushes and swiped it over the horse's black coat. "I'm waiting on you. The sooner he's ready, the sooner we can go."

"We?"

"I'm going with you."

"It's not like I need you to hold my hand down the mountain." When he kept grooming her horse, she huffed out an annoyed breath in the frosty morning air. "Ranger Morgan, don't you have poachers to chase?"

"Not at the moment," he replied. "My truck and trailer are at the Long's Peak trailhead, so I'm at your service for the day, Ms. Lucas."

"I don't need you," she ground out.

He continued to brush her horse with light, sweeping strokes, but when he spoke, he made sure his voice was iron hard. "Like it or not, you've got me."

She finally clamped her mouth shut, and less than ten minutes later, she took the lead as they began their descent. The sun glistened off fresh snow, blinding in its brightness. He tugged his black hat lower on his forehead to combat the glare as she dug out a pair of sunglasses.

Every day in the mountains brought new versions of the same scenery; a crimson sunrise, a cloudy day, sunshine, rain, misty mornings, brilliant sunsets. He may hate certain parts of his job, but a beauty like this was one thing he'd never tire of.

In the next moment, he realized even as his mind journeyed the mountain vistas, his gaze remained fixed on the woman ahead of him. Not good.

The faint sound of a motor provided a welcome distraction—until he saw Brittany's alarmed expression as she searched the sky. Suspicion narrowed his gaze. Why did the helicopter have her so spooked?

It rounded Storm Peak and headed straight toward them. Her horse whipped around as she jumped from the saddle. "Try to wave them off. Paelo's not used to helicopters!"

The bird drew closer and the stallion backed up, straining against her hold on the reins. Joel saw her groping for the packhorse's lead line tied to her saddle. She'd never reach it. He vaulted off his horse and managed to unhook the lead line from the packhorse's halter. The mare jerked back, then bolted down the mountain trail.

His radio crackled to life where it was secured to the saddle on his horse's back. Startled into obeying his natural instinct, Nobel took off after his fellow equine and disappeared from sight. Joel took a few strides after him, but realized he'd never catch them.

"Get rid of that chopper!"

The desperate edge to Brittany's voice got through to him, and he spun around to wave off the helicopter. It banked sharp left, and moments later the whirring blades faded in the distance.

Her soft words continued to calm her horse until she gave a firm command and rounded on Joel. "What took you so damn long?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, my horse took off."

"So did one of mine. Why in the world didn't you radio the ranger station before we left? Did it not occur to you they might do a fly-by to check on us after the storm?"

"I gave instructions yesterday to keep the choppers away, the damn idiots should've listened to me. And what are you so angry about? You still have a horse to ride." He turned his glare from her, to the trembling black beast at her side, to the empty trail.

She swung back into the saddle. "I'm going to try to catch the horses."

"Fine." Joel stood to the side so she could pass.

But she didn't move, just sat there looking down at him as she rubbed a hand up and down her horse's shiny neck. "You understand I can't give you a ride with the trails like this? The extra weight would be too—"

"I grew up in the mountains," he snapped. "That's just common sense."

Her mouth thinned, then softened. "Thank you for unhooking the line. That could've been a disaster."

He gave a brief nod and extended his hand for her to proceed ahead of him.

"Do you want me to wait for you?"

Frustrated impatience raised his voice. "No, Ms. Lucas. Obviously, it's more important for you to make sure one of those damn horses didn't break a leg."

"Don't yell at me. If you'd radioed the station—"

"If _you_ ," he jabbed a finger straight at her, "hadn't been in the park without a permit, _I_ wouldn't even be here right now."

A flash of what looked like guilt crossed her face, but it disappeared too fast for him to be sure. Well, she should feel guilty. This was all her fault.

"You know, you're right," she agreed with bright, false smile. "That ought to make you feel better on your hike down the mountain. Enjoy the walk."

She swung the black stallion around and urged him forward. "I'll tie your horse to a tree when I catch him," she called over her shoulder.

"Don't do me any favors," he groused at her back.

A couple miles later, he was still cursing her under his breath when the tracks in the snow changed. He stopped, surveyed the area with a frown, and then shook his head. The two horses had probably milled around before continuing down the trail.

A few minutes later, he halted again. Three sets of uniform tracks were visible, not like further back where it was obvious two of the animals had been running. No sir, these tracks were all spaced quite equally as if the animals were being led.

_She wouldn't have_.

After another mile, there was no other explanation—the witch had stolen his horse! Anger simmered and escalated to a full-blown rage as he hiked mile after mile. Sure, they'd broken a path through the snow, but his toes were pretty much numb by now.

Oh man, when he found Ms. Brittany Lucas—if that was her real name—the woman would be sorry she ever met him.

## Chapter 5

Britt was brushing Paelo in his stall at the ranch, trying not to think about a certain ranger and that hot kiss in her tent, when she heard a familiar voice from the aisle.

"You go soft over the winter, girl?"

She straightened and saw her boss leaning his arms along the top of the stall door. "Hey, Mark," she greeted with a grin. "What are you doing here? How's Eve doing?"

"Good. Her sister is here for a week, so she gets a break from me."

"Come on, she loves having you around."

"Not when bed rest means she can't walk away when I annoy her. She says I hover too much."

Britt laughed, but knew he hovered for a good reason. This was their third pregnancy, the first two having resulted in devastating miscarriages. Being able to spend time with his wife during her third trimester was the reason he'd called and asked Britt to come back to Colorado for another summer.

"Well, you've got two more months to go, so this probably is a good break."

"What are _you_ doing here? I thought you weren't coming back 'til tomorrow. You let a little snow chase you down?"

After exiting the stall to give the tall cowboy a hug, she stepped back. "I was escorted out of the park by a Ranger Morgan. Just my luck, too, because anyone else would've known me."

Mark frowned. "I've met Joel Morgan. He knows the ranch has restricted trail access."

The earlier twinge of guilt hit twice as hard. "I didn't exactly tell him I work here."

"Why not?"

"Well, when he tackled me, I—"

"He _what_?"

"He showed up in my camp with his gun drawn and I thought he was a poacher, so I ran."

Mark lifted his hat, ran a hand through his hair, and resettled the Stetson. "You forget what a ranger's uniform looks like?"

"He wasn't in uniform."

"And why didn't you just tell him who you were?"

"Tell _who_ who she was? Is. _Are?_ "

That curious voice prompted a silent groan. Casey Fuller, the barn's assistant manager and one of her best friends, was gonna love this one. She turned to discover his wife Jayne was also at his side. As she offered them both hugs after the long winter, Mark caught them up to the point where they'd walked in.

At the mention of Joel Morgan, a frown crossed Casey's brow.

"Which leads us back to the question of why didn't you tell him who you are?" her boss concluded.

"I did tell him my name and that I was camping, I just didn't tell him I work _here_." She shrugged, wishing she was still in the stall brushing Paelo so she could avoid their speculative gazes. "He was a real jerk. I was...well...he made some smartass remarks about my new camping gear and how rich people think they don't need permits and can do whatever they like. The gear was a graduation present from my sister and brother-in-law."

"Did you tell him that?" Jayne asked.

"No." Now she was beginning to feel like an idiot. _But they weren't there_ , she justified silently. After Joel had ordered her to leave in the morning, she hadn't expected to see him again, much less have him show up and insist she share her tent. She hadn't exactly lied to him, but she hadn't given him all the relevant information, either.

Her cheeks warmed as she added, "He made all these assumptions without letting me explain, so...I let him. It's his own fault, really."

"I'd have to agree with Britt," Casey said. "I wasn't impressed with the guy the one time we met."

Mark ignored him and pinned her with a hard look. "What'd you do when he left you here?" You didn't pretend to be a guest, did you?"

"No." She avoided his gaze. "Um...long story short, one of the park helicopters did a fly-by, my horses got spooked, and when Joel got off his to help, the packhorse and his gelding took off. He blamed me, I rode ahead to catch the horses, planning to tie his to a tree for him, but..." She trailed off, suddenly wishing she could go back in time a few hours.

"But?" Mark urged.

"As I rode away, he muttered not to do him any favors, so... I led his gelding all the way to his trailer in the parking lot."

Casey chuckled, but the look on Jayne and Mark's faces made her feel bad. Even she had to admit now, saying it out loud, it _sounded_ bad.

Mark shook his head and pointed his finger at her. "You, young lady, are going to get yourself into trouble."

His stern voice came across like a father scolding his daughter, though he was only about twelve years older than her. Her guilt doubled. He frowned, then waved a hand and sighed in resignation as he turned away.

"Since you're back early, you might as well attend the staff meeting in ten minutes."

Though worded like a suggestion, clearly she didn't have a choice. Why didn't his orders rub her the wrong way like Joel Morgan's did?

"How far did you make him walk?"

Casey's smile said he enjoyed the thought of the ranger's discomfort, but she cringed inside. "About nine miles."

"You'd better hope you don't meet up with him anytime soon," Jayne warned.

"She's got—"

"Let's go, Casey," Mark barked from the office door. The two exchanged a look and Mark gave a barely perceptible shake of his head as Casey headed in his direction.

Britt's stomach took a nose dive as she wondered what the heck that was about, but Jayne distracted her.

"You too tired for a game of racquetball after the meeting? Then Gina's meeting us for a soak in the hot tub."

"Racquetball sounds great. I'll meet you at the Sports Center."

They parted ways at the stable's combination employee lounge/guest check-in area, and she slid into the empty chair next to Mitch Levins, a year-round employee, and Jon Taylor, a seasonal wrangler returning from the previous summer.

"Britt!" Mitch greeted her with a one armed hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Gorgeous as ever. When are you going to come to your senses and go out with me?"

She laughed, considering she'd spent two days on the trail and needed a shower. "Next summer."

"You won't be here next summer."

She mirrored his cheeky grin. "Precisely."

Mark introduced the two new wranglers; Kelly Stevens, who was there for his second summer in Estes Park, having spent the previous one at a neighboring ranch, and Mandy Cole, a petite girl from Texas with brown hair and brown eyes. She'd just graduated high school, and it was her first summer job before attending college in the fall. Britt wondered if she'd looked as nervous as Mandy her first summer.

As Mark explained the rules and procedures of the barn that she could recite in her sleep, Britt's attention wandered. Her gaze rested on Mitch and Kelly's dark hair. Joel's was a touch darker...and it had a bit of a curl in the longer strands on top. Soft and—

_What in God's name are you doing? Don't think about the man._

She gave herself a mental shake to bring herself back to reality as the meeting concluded. Afterward, she talked to Mitch, Jon, and Mandy for a few minutes before scooping up her gear to head to her truck. When she stepped away from the barn, her backpack was lifted from her shoulder, and she turned to find Kelly Stevens smiling at her.

Her first inclination was to take the pack back, but she didn't want to be rude. "Thanks. I'm not heading up to the dorms though."

"No problem." He fell into step beside her. "I remember seeing you around town last summer."

She glanced over at the casual statement, but didn't remember him beyond meeting him a few minutes ago in the meeting. "Did I hear you worked at The Lazy R last year?"

"Yep. I like this area."

"What brought you to Highlands?"

After a slight hesitation, he answered, "Closer to the park. You guys have access to some of the best trails around."

"I know. It's my favorite place to ride."

She couldn't explain why, but something about the guy made her uneasy. He seemed perfectly nice, and hadn't said anything to spark the sudden disquiet in her gut, but something in his tone made her grateful when they arrived at her truck. He kept her backpack on his shoulder as he faced her.

"Listen, now that we've met, I was wondering if you'd be interested in getting a drink later?"

The invitation caught her off guard. "I'm sorry, I've got other plans."

"Tomorrow night then. Maybe we could do dinner?"

She shook her head. "Tomorrow night is the Kick-Off party at The Watering Hole. And I—"

"We could go together."

"I'm meeting friends."

His stance stiffened. "Of course you are."

Conscious of the fact they had to work together for the next three weeks, she offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Kelly, but it's just, I don't date while I'm out here. Things get too complicated in the summer crowd, and the casual thing isn't _my_ thing."

"You know what, forget I asked." He dropped her backpack at her feet and stalked away.

After a moment, she closed her slack jaw. Wow, _o-kay_. Guess her gut was right on the money. And suddenly Joel Morgan seemed kinda nice.

An hour later, she sank into the steaming water of the hot tub. The jets massaged muscles sore from camping on the hard ground and a rousing game of racquetball, prompting a sigh of contentment. This was almost as relaxing as her nap in the meadow—before Ranger Morgan had shown up.

"Who won?" Gina asked as she slipped into the water beside her.

"Jayne did."

"She's tired," Jayne said with a laugh. "I took advantage because that'll probably be the last time I win all summer."

"No, I think you're getting better."

"Sure I am."

Britt grinned, then glanced at Gina's shoulder-length hair piled on top of her head. "I kinda miss the purple."

"It was bodacious burgundy, not purple."

"It was so you. Why the change after five years?"

She shrugged. "My natural auburn presents a more professional image."

Britt noticed Gina avoided both her and Jayne's eyes. "Jackson say that?"

Jackson Brady was the hot-shot computer programmer Gina had started dating a couple months ago. Britt hadn't met him yet, but a few things had given her pause. Little things, so as long as Gina was happy, she kept quiet. Besides, after Daniel, who was she to give advice?

"Well, he's right," Gina replied. "And GAllen Designs is still new. Until I've built up my portfolio, anything that gives a prospective client one _less_ reason to say no is a good thing."

Across the parking lot, Britt watched a group of guests entering the resort bar. Turning back to Gina, she said, "Tell you what, if I go back to Chicago, you can come decorate my office."

" _If?_ "

The wide-eyed question came from both her friends, echoing her own surprise once she realized what she'd said. It started her heart pounding so fast she quickly amended, "I mean _when_. _When_ I go back." She couldn't help but laugh. "Can you imagine? After six years of school, my dad would _really_ freak if I didn't."

"But is that what you want to do?"

Gina would be the one to ask. She'd gone against her parents' wishes to start her own business in Colorado instead of returning to Michigan.

"Of course," she stated, as much for herself as them. "I'm only here to help Mark out until Eve has the baby. I mean, sure, distance from Daniel right now is a bonus, but after that, you bet I'm going back to show the jerk exactly what he threw away."

"That's our girl," Jayne quipped.

She smiled again, then changed the subject to something more fun, like when were Casey and Jayne going to have a baby? As they talked and teased each other, it was as if the past nine months had flown by in a blink. She'd missed them, especially through the last month of upheaval in her life, and savored their warm, unconditional friendship.

So why then, in the occasional moments of silence, did she find her thoughts focused on a certain dark-haired ranger?

Because ever since Casey asked how far she'd _made_ Joel walk, she dreaded the thought of meeting up with him again. Just like Jayne had said. Taking his horse had been childish and petty, and all because she was angry at herself for letting him kiss her, and even more annoyed she'd enjoyed it so much.

Eyelids closed, she pictured his gold-flecked eyes, fringed with those dark lashes. She remembered the feel of his muscled length against her, felt his lips caress—

"Britt? Hello? You still with us?"

She snapped her eyes open, embarrassed at the direction her thoughts had traveled. "Yep. What?"

"Gina asked how your camping weekend went," Jayne informed her, her tone sweet and innocent.

Her cheeks warmed, and she hoped they'd attribute it to the steam rising from the hot tub. "It was fine. Uneventful."

Jayne let loose a snort of laughter and Britt shot her a glare. Gina glanced between them with a confused frown. "What's so funny?"

Britt sighed and glanced toward the bar again. "I ran into one of the—" She stopped abruptly as the object of her previous thoughts paused alongside his truck, gave a sweeping glance in their direction, then started up the stairs to the bar.

" _Shit_."

"What?" Jayne swung around to see what held her attention.

Her pulse raced. Drawing a full breath became difficult with her heart lodged in her throat. "He's _here_."

"Who's here?"

"Joel Morgan. Hurry—switch places with me."

Jayne's concern disintegrated into laughter. Britt threw her an indignant look and pushed her to the other side of the hot tub. "It's not funny!"

Her laughter subsided to a grin. "If you could see your face right now."

"Who's Joel Morgan?" Gina craned her neck toward the bar.

"The ranger who's horse Britt stole earlier today."

Gina whipped around to stare at her.

"I didn't _steal_ his horse. I just...didn't leave it for him where I caught it."

"Thought you said your trip was uneventful?"

At her insistence, Britt was forced to relay the story once again. Casey walked up at the end, took one look at Britt, and smirked. "You saw who walked into the bar, didn't you?"

"She sure did," his wife confirmed.

Britt offered up her best pleading look. He enjoyed giving her a hard time, but his earlier comments told her he was on her side where the arrogant ranger was concerned. "Casey, please, I can't face him like this. It has to be on even ground."

He glanced toward Joel's truck. "The pavement in front of the bar is fairly level—"

She splashed water at him as the girls laughed. "I'm serious. Just tell him I'm not here."

"I won't lie to him, Britt."

She sighed with resignation. Though he wasn't officially a ranger yet, he already thought like one. No matter how much he joked around, it wasn't fair of her to even ask him to compromise his integrity. "Okay, then tell him the next time you see me, you'll tell me he wants to talk to me. It's not a lie."

"It's probably better to get it over with," he advised.

"Probably, but not like this. Not in my swimsuit."

"You never know, the distraction of that bikini could work in your favor," Gina suggested.

"She has a good point," Jayne agreed.

Casey raised his eyebrows in silent inquiry, but Britt shook her head. "No way."

"All right, relax. I'll handle everything." As he walked away, his wicked grin did nothing to reassure her.

## Chapter 6

Joel stood by the _Please wait to be seated_ sign of Highlands' Sunset Vista Restaurant as the sun began to slip below the mountain peaks. Through the windows, he noted the lake in front of the restaurant afforded diners and bar patrons alike a great view of the sunset.

"Explains the name," he murmured wryly.

On his way inside, he'd spotted Casey Fuller across the parking lot, headed into the Sports Center. Now there was a guy he'd have to get to know better. He knew a lot of the locals and might be able to lend some insight to Joel's case.

Problem was, the guy didn't trust him.

"Good evening. Table for one, or are you waiting for someone?"

Joel turned around to face the short-haired redhead standing before him with a menu in hand. "Just me."

She gave him a bright smile. "Right this way."

His waiter appeared as the hostess finished reciting the specials, so he ordered a beer and the grilled bruschetta chicken. Alone once more, he turned his thoughts back to the man who hadn't bothered to conceal his dislike from the moment they'd met. It was a welcome distraction from the other blond who'd been dominating his thoughts all damn day.

Being Estes Park was a tourist town, Joel suspected Fuller's aversion was reserved for him alone. People who made a living off the money tourists brought in didn't treat strangers with hostility.

Casey's cold reception begged the question; did he have a criminal reason for resenting Joel's presence in his town? One thing he'd discovered immediately upon his arrival, the gossip mill around town was alive and thriving. The wrangler likely knew why Joel was here, even though the rangers at the station had been instructed not to talk about the case.

He took a sip of his beer. Yes, he'd have to work on the guy. As with all his investigations, he had the time to work the angles. Unfortunately, the animals didn't.

The waiter arrived with his dinner and left him to eat in peace. Except a few minutes later, Joel looked up from his grilled chicken to watch Fuller stride across the dining room and stop at his table.

"Morgan."

"Hi, Casey." He gestured him to an empty seat, wondering at this curious turn of events. "Can I buy you a beer?"

"No, thanks." The guy flipped the chair around and straddled it, forearms crossed over the backrest. "Are you here on official park business?"

The direct question sparked his suspicion. "I heard this was a good place to eat."

"Hmm." He glanced out the window toward the Sports Center. "Did you guys have any trouble with the storm that blew through last night?"

Joel's mind tripped over itself, trying to figure out what the other guy was getting at. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"We're pretty slow right now, not many rides booked at the stable. But I bet the park already has a fair amount of hikers and campers."

"It does." He stabbed another bite of grilled chicken breast to avoid elaborating. He saw no reason to mention Ms. Brittany Lucas.

"They keep you busy?"

He shrugged at the slight emphasis on _you_ and reached for his beer as he finished chewing.

Casey cleared his throat as a smile tugged the corners of his mouth. "Rumor is you're here on special assignment. Does that mean you don't have to deal with the campers and every day park stuff?"

_What the hell does he know?_

Joel took a drink before setting his glass down. He pushed his almost empty plate aside, watching for signs of nervousness across the table. Their previous exchange had been limited to a few words, and even though he'd decided to get to know the guy better, Fuller was being a little too talkative right now.

"It's all part of the job," he finally replied.

"Oh, come off it, Morgan." Unexpected irritation mixed with accusation in Casey's voice. "The whole town knows why you're here, we just can't figure out why the park felt they needed _you_ when our rangers are more than capable."

Yeah, exactly as he'd thought—the friendliness of a moment ago had been an act. He leaned forward in his chair and spoke in a low tone. "No one said they weren't capable, but everyone can benefit from a fresh outlook. Just so happens, that's my specialty."

Casey got to his feet and spun the chair back to its original position. "Yeah, well, we don't need you. Do us all a favor; go back where you came from and leave it to us."

_We don't need you._ Reminded him of someone else and he shook his head while pushing up from the table. He'd had enough, and he was bone tired after that damn long, cold walk.

"I'm here to save wildlife," he ground out, reaching in his back pocket for his wallet. "If it bothers a few people along the way—pokes at their egos—tough. Same goes for you, Fuller." He tossed some bills down, then got right up in the guy's face. "I suggest you be real careful as to the interest you show in my investigation, or you just might find yourself at the _top_ of my suspect list."

## Chapter 7

Britt watched for Casey the next morning, desperate to know what had happened last night. He'd exited the restaurant a few minutes after Joel left. She'd gotten a temporary reprieve, but when he hadn't returned to the hot tub to fill them in, she went right back to worrying. Back in the locker room, Jayne found a text on her phone that simply said he'd meet her at home.

She and Gina had stayed up talking at the apartment, then she'd spent a restless night tossing and turning. In the wee hours of the night, she reminded herself how she could've saved herself a whole lot of trouble if she'd just come clean to Joel about where she worked. Which reminded her, she needed to start considering the consequences before acting on impulse. Emotions too often got the better of her.

Casey showed up as she exercised Paelo in the riding ring. He propped his boot on the lower fence board when she pulled the stallion to a halt in front of him.

"Thanks for ditching us last night," she accused. "What the heck happened?"

"He wasn't looking for you. He was just there to eat."

"And you couldn't come tell me that? Or text it to Jayne?"

"Sorry." He shrugged, his fingers gripping the top board tight. "He said a few things that pissed me off. I don't like that guy."

"Join the club."

Casey's eyes narrowed, full of sudden speculation. "Did something happen up there? Did he do something?"

She thought of the kiss, avoided his gaze and nudged Paelo with her heel to get him moving around the ring. "I already told you."

"Yeah, but making him hike that far, I'm guessing in his riding boots, seems a little extreme for just a few smart-ass comments. Even for you and your tendency to not think things through before you leap."

"The hiking thing was a stupid mistake." _Really stupid._

"I won't argue that. But—"

"But nothing. I've learned my lesson, okay?"

His grim smile told her she'd protested too much. Time to change the subject, so on her way past him again, she asked, "What'd he say to piss you off?"

"Apparently my fishing around last night moved me up on his suspect list."

A quick pull on the reins halted the stallion. " _You're_ a suspect? But you're practically a ranger yourself. Your application is in with Ryan and everything."

"I doubt Morgan knows that."

"Then I'll tell him. I'm sorry, Case, I didn't mean to put you in the middle."

He shook his head and pushed away from the fence. "Don't worry about it. I volunteered, remember?"

"Volunteered for what?"

They both turned to see Mark approach with his distinctive, bow-legged cowboy swagger.

"To clear the Twin Sister's trail. Do you care who I take with me?"

"Jon or Mitch. I've got some training to do with the new wranglers today so they can get started with the guest trail rides next week."

"Sounds good. Britt—you going to Billy's for the Kick-off?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

"See you tonight then."

As he headed for the barn, Britt dismounted and led Paelo to the gate. Mark swung it open for her.

"I meant to tell you yesterday, I really appreciate that you're here."

"I'm happy to help. Whenever you need me to fill in or pick up extra hours, just let me know."

His chin dipped. "Thank you."

"You took a chance on me that first summer; it's the least I can do."

Outside the stall, he took the saddle after she'd released the cinch and carried it to the tack room. When he returned, he leaned a shoulder against the door. "There is something else I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"Shoot."

"You really like it in Chicago?"

She cast him a surprised glance. "Well, yeah. It's my home."

"I don't know, you've always been pretty comfortable out here."

She swept the brush down Paelo's gleaming black neck as she contemplated his words. "I love Colorado, but I've never planned to stay."

"Well, if you change your mind, I got a job for you anytime you want it."

She smiled.

"I'm serious." He inclined his head toward her stallion. "What about working with horses? You've done an amazing job with him. Have you ever thought of becoming a trainer?"

"No." But that was a lie, sort of. She'd thought of it, but not seriously—her father would never forgive her. "I think I'd have a hard time letting go," she told Mark.

"Wanna give it a go this summer? See how you like it?"

She paused and raised her eyebrows.

"I found a little mustang mare. She's pretty as can be, but meaner than the devil."

Britt frowned as she resumed brushing. "Why would you want her?"

"No one else did."

That didn't surprise her one bit. Mark was tough and gruff, but he had a heart of gold soft enough to rescue a horse no one else wanted.

"If anyone could gentle her, you could."

"Such confidence." She gave a soft laugh and moved over to join him at the stall door. "Explain _mean_."

"In a bullfight, you've got the bull and the matador..."

"Let me guess—she's the bull."

His silence confirmed her guess, and Britt hesitated saying more. Did she really want to spend time with an animal like that? A little leap of her pulse provided the answer.

"You have a way with animals, Britt. I saw it that first summer and that's why I hired you. All I ask is that you look at her."

After a long moment, she nodded her agreement.

Mark grinned, tapped a quick beat on the top edge of the stall door, and backed toward his office. "She'll be here in the mornin'."

She leaned her head over the partition. "How are you getting her here?"

Just before he slipped through the doorway, he said one word. "Tranquilizer."

## Chapter 8

An unseasonably warm Sunday night found Joel in the company of his fellow rangers and a multitude of other seasonal employees from around Estes Park for the Third Annual Summer Kick-off Party. Held at the Watering Hole Bar and Grill, the owner, Billy Marshall, had posted a 'Private Party' sign on the door.

Positioning himself at the end of the well-worn yet polished bar, Joel ordered a drink and surveyed the hot, crowded room. Most of the people did no more than nod in his direction, and some not even that, but that was fine by him. After finding another dead animal on the southeast side of the park earlier that morning, he'd come to observe, not make friends.

A redhead sitting nearby caught his attention by flashing him a sensual smile as the live band returned from their first set break. She leaned forward to allow him a clear view of her generous cleavage, then uncrossed her long legs. His gaze slid down as she slowly re-crossed them.

It was a blatant, hot invitation and he felt nothing more than a slight twinge of lukewarm interest.

_You are friggin' nuts, man._

With a smile that felt more like a grimace, he turned back to the mirrored wall that ran the length of the bar. He lifted his drink, watching the reflection as the door behind him opened. His hand halted in mid-air, then slammed his glass down on the bar so hard he was amazed it didn't shatter.

_Brittany Lucas._

He slowly turned to regard the vision face to face. Through an opening in the crowd, he got a split-second glimpse of a gray sleeveless dress, long bare legs, and black cowboy boots. Bodies shifted, and he looked up again, focusing on those blond curls cascading in wild waves past her shoulders.

Now, there was a woman who aroused his emotions. The first being anger, and the second, desire—much as he hated to admit it. The second fueled the first, and he was halfway through the crowd before he even realized he'd moved. When he reached her, he clamped a hand on her arm to spin her back toward the door.

"Hey—"

He glared down into her startled green eyes and marched her right back outside. She tried to pull away, but he refused to release her until they reached the parking lot.

The moment she was free, she whirled to confront him, eyes flashing, chest heaving with indignation. "Who do you think you are? Grabbing me like—"

" _I'm_ the one who walked for hours because _you_ took my horse." He leaned forward, forcing her to tilt her chin at a very awkward angle or retreat. She took one step backward, then stood her ground.

"Maybe next time keep your smart-ass comments to yourself."

"Excuse me?"

" _Don't do me any favors_ ," she mimicked. "Ring a bell?"

His gaze narrowed. "You couldn't have heard that."

"I have exceptional hearing."

"Pity you don't have manners to match. It still doesn't excuse you taking my horse."

Now she hesitated, and her gaze dropped. "About that—"

"Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is to walk seven miles—"

"Nine."

"Nine?" The look on her face said she wished she'd shut the hell up. He gave a short sarcastic laugh. "Well, thank you, Brittany Lucas. That makes me feel _so_ much better."

She lifted her gaze. "I'm sorry."

"What?" He leaned close again and forced himself to ignore the fresh scent of summertime in the mountains. "My hearing must not be as exceptional as yours."

"I'm sorry," she repeated louder.

The genuine remorse in her voice and her willingness to look him in the eye while taking full responsibility for her actions took the wind out of his sails. As their gazes held, the air became charged with something he didn't want to identify.

He was just thinking it was time to get the hell away from her when she broke eye contact with a glance toward the bar. "Well, I've apologized. I, ah, I guess I'll see you around."

_See you around?_ So much for sincerity. A single sidestep halted her move to brush past. He motioned to the sign on the door and took her arm again. "This is a private party. It appears as though I have the pleasure of escorting you off the premises—again."

"Your first escort wasn't so pleasurable, was it?"

His hand tightened on her arm as he led her further into the parking lot. With each step, he felt her rising temper in the stiffness of her body beside his. He didn't care how mad she got. She didn't belong here and she wasn't staying.

"Where's your car?"

She silently pointed to the next row over, then stopped him in front of a black truck. It looked so brand spanking new, he gave a low whistle. "Work hard for that, did ya?"

The sarcastic comment made her jerk free and she glared up at him.

"It's really none of your business what I drive or how I got it. Once again, you've made assumptions about me when you have absolutely no idea what my life is like."

A vehicle rolled to a stop behind her. Joel flicked a glance over her shoulder to see Casey Fuller with a female passenger.

"And another thing," Brittany continued. "I'm sick and tired of you ordering me around. You can't _make_ me leave."

"I can and I will."

Casey let out a derisive laugh. Brittany glanced back as he leaned closer to the open passenger window. "No one makes Britt do anything, Morgan. Besides, as one of the best damn wranglers Highlands has ever had, she's got more of a right to be here than you do."

Joel shifted his gaze to find her watching him. The defiance in her eyes buckled under an onslaught of guilt. Each furious beat of his heart made the blisters on his feet throb. Very softly, very calmly, he asked, "You work at Highlands?"

Her gaze wavered. With the corner of her lower lip caught between her teeth, she confirmed the fact with a small nod. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, and he consciously unfurled them.

"Highlands has unlimited access to the park."

She swallowed hard, then raised her chin with a hint of that infuriating defiance. "Yes."

Joel cast Casey a pointed look and the truck engine revved as the guy wisely drove ahead to park. Brittany gazed after them, looking as if she'd lost her best friends.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he managed to keep his voice level. "I assume you have a really good reason for not informing me of this at any point during the fourteen or so hours we spent together on the mountain?"

When she finally met his gaze once more, he gave her a 'still-waiting' raised eyebrow.

She threw up her hands. "I don't know!" She turned away, but then spun back just as fast, her dress whirling around her thighs. "Actually, yes I do. You assumed I was a spoiled little rich girl doing whatever I wanted. I just didn't correct your assumption."

"Oh, I see. Better to be a rich bitch than a conniving, _lying,_ rich bitch—"

"I did not lie."

"It's the same thing." He shook his head in disgust. "You know, I'm beginning to think women are just born dishonest."

Her gaze narrowed. "The only thing I did wrong was take your horse, and I've apologized for that. There's nothing more to say."

Joel watched the swing of her hips as she strode away in those black cowboy boots. Deliberate or not, the movement was damn sexy all the same. He sighed, looking up at the stars while running his hands through his hair.

She was infuriating to say the least. And deceitful. Spunky, headstrong, beautiful—

_Whoa, stop right there_. Wrong damn road.

He dropped his arms back to his sides and decided to call it a night. He hadn't been enjoying himself before, no way the evening would be any better now.

Not two steps toward his own truck, he spotted Casey crossing the lot with the woman from his passenger seat. They were talking as they walked, holding hands, and even from a distance, it was impossible to miss the air of intimacy about them. Joel had noticed the wedding ring on the man's hand last night, so he figured the brunette must be his wife.

As Casey held open the door for her, he cast a narrow-eyed glare across the vehicles. Joel's jaw tightened with the realization the sonofabitch had known exactly what'd happened on the mountain when he sought him out at the restaurant to talk about wayward campers. He _knew_ there'd been something fishy about the whole thing, just hadn't expected it to be connected to Ms. Lucas.

_She's got more right to be here than you do_.

The words echoed in Joel's mind like a silent challenge. He abruptly switched direction to follow them all back inside. The redhead from earlier was about to get exactly what she wanted.

## Chapter 9

Women are born _dishonest._

Well, damn. If he weren't so darn good-looking— _and bossy, let's not forget the bossy and arrogant, Britt_ —maybe she'd be able to keep her head straight and not do stupid things like lie—

No, she hadn't lied. There _was_ a difference. And besides, either way, it didn't give him the right to blame her for every bad experience he'd ever had with women. She didn't blame him for Daniel's faults.

A lilting ballad replaced the rowdy country music the band had been playing. Gina went to refresh her drink while Casey and Jayne joined the other couples on the dance floor. Watching them snuggle together, she found herself picturing one man, the man she most wanted to forget—and it wasn't her no-good cheating ex.

When a dark head suddenly appeared at her shoulder, a start of surprise tripped her pulse. Mitch chuckled, his breath warm against her ear.

"Since you won't go out with me, you can at least dance with me."

Relief spiraled through her, and she accepted his hand. She didn't object when he pulled her close on the dance floor, either. He'd been a harmless flirt from the moment they'd met at the start of her third summer, and she appreciated his friendship.

"You and that redhead seemed to be getting pretty well acquainted," she remarked, referring to the woman she'd seen him dirty dancing with a short while ago.

"Yes. Because Lindsey appreciates a good man when she sees one."

She laughed—until she caught sight of said redhead with a certain tall, dark-haired ranger a few feet away. Her smile vanished when she met a pair of steely golden eyes. How could such a warm color appear so cold?

Mitch spun her around and she saw his brow furrow the moment he noticed the other couple. Summoning a grin, she teased, "You were saying?"

He danced her into another dizzying spin that didn't fit the music. "I was saying...sometimes women need a little help with the obvious." He tapped Joel's shoulder. "Mind if we switch?"

Without waiting for a reply, he released her and swept an overly-eager Lindsey into his arms. As they moved away, Britt fumed inwardly, but forced a polite smile for Joel as she turned away. "Excuse me."

"Not so fast."

He snagged her hand and lifted her arm above her head in a fluid motion, maneuvering her into a dance spin that landed her in his arms. Her dress whirled against his thighs, and she found herself aligned with solid muscle from chest to hip.

"Bad enough you left me on the trail, walking away on the dance floor is just plain rude."

A push on his chest proved ineffective, so she leaned back. "I prefer to choose my own dance partners."

"I prefer to choose the way I get down a mountain," he countered.

"A gentleman would accept my apology and let it go."

"I never claimed to be a gentleman."

Something in his tone reminded her of that kiss in her tent. Her gaze shifted to his lips. As she stared, his head lowered. Her breath caught and her pulse skipped, but he bypassed her mouth to rest his cheek against hers. She barely contained a sigh of disappointment as the scent of cedar boughs and citrus assaulted her senses.

"I knew it. You enjoyed that kiss as much as I did," he taunted softly.

His breath—or was it his lips?—brushed the sensitive skin under her ear. With a conscious effort to gather her raging emotions, she pushed harder against his chest. He only allowed her a few inches and kept their bodies swaying to the music.

"What are you doing?" she whispered. "You don't even like me."

"I'm just trying to get an honest response," he explained.

"You want honest? You took advantage of me. I was still half-asleep and—"

He laughed, a low, deep chuckle that stirred something in the pit of her stomach.

"If that's what you need to believe."

"I don't _need_ to believe anything."

"And just a minute ago, when you thought I was going to kiss you—"

"I did not—"

"—you weren't the least bit disappointed?"

"No."

"So you did think I was going to kiss you."

"I didn't say that!" Exasperation raised her voice. "If you'd just let me finish."

A hint of a smile played on his sensual lips. "By all means."

"No, I did not think you were going...to..."

He'd lowered his head again. She pulled back; he followed, until their lips were a mere inch apart. "Do you now?"

"I...no."

"Do you want me to?"

The seductive whisper made her shiver. _Yes._ "No."

But she'd hesitated a fraction too long because he'd already closed the distance and captured her mouth in a gentle, bone-melting kiss. She knew she should resist—he'd even given her time to—but she was unable to keep from opening to him like a morning glory to the rising sun.

He broke the kiss so abruptly, she would've stumbled without the support of his arms.

"Still going to tell me you didn't want that?"

Dazed, she kept her gaze leveled on the collar of his charcoal gray shirt, annoyed that she'd played right into his hands, and afraid he'd read his effect on her. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't?"

"No."

"Then what does it matter what I say? You're going to believe what you want anyway, just like you did in the mountains. You think you're irresistible? Go ahead, I'll let you keep that fantasy."

His deep chuckle surprised her. "I assure you, should I decide to prove to you how irresistible I can be, it'll be one fantasy you'll never forget."

That did it. She thrust his arms away and poked his chest. "Don't flatter yourself. All you've proven is that you can kiss halfway decent. Any guy can do that."

She spun around and left him standing alone on the dance floor whether it was rude or not.

Back at the table, she noted the dark look Kelly Stevens cast her way, and rolled her eyes at the raised eyebrows her ranger buddy Randy Gifford tossed over from a neighboring table. Sitting with her back to the wall, she snatched up her soda and willed her pulse back to normal.

Kiss halfway decent? Major understatement.

The chemistry she felt when near the man—hell, just when she thought of him—was stuff she'd only read about in her favorite romance novels. She'd certainly never felt it with Daniel—had in fact told herself writers made it up for a good, hot read.

Then bam! A couple kisses from Joel Morgan, and she knew the true meaning of desire. And he knew it, damn it. Too bad she couldn't just have some fun and be done with him. Looking around, she knew there were plenty of people who had relationships based on nothing more than the physical. Mitch. The redhead Lindsey. Undoubtedly Kelly. Why not her?

She left the table and sidled up to the bar where Gina and Billy were doing their best to talk as he flipped bottles and mixed drinks. He was so much faster than the other two bartenders, he'd gained a considerable audience along the length of the bar.

The guy to her right offered his stool, and she accepted with a smile of thanks before turning to Billy. "You've upped your game," she called over the noise.

"I can say the same for you," he hollered back. "What are you drinkin'?"

"Same as always. Juice or soda, whatever you've got."

He passed off a tray of drinks, exchanged glances with Gina, and reached for a glass from beneath the counter. "Just thought I'd ask."

"In the years you've known me, have I ever ordered alcohol?"

"We've never seen you kiss anyone like that, either," Gina said. "But it seems there's a first time for everything."

As her friend sipped her drink and raised her eyebrows, heat flooded Britt's face, then spread throughout her body. It made the warmth of the crowded bar so uncomfortable, she had to resist the urge to fan herself with her hand.

Billy set a glass of orange juice in front of her, then folded his arms on the bar and leaned close. "So, what's the scoop, Ms. Flirty Skirt?"

"You make it sound like I'm a tease."

"Well you are. A horrible tease."

"I am not." Then, despite his joking tone, she leaned back and frowned at both of them. "Am I?"

"No," he said. "But seriously, what's the deal with Morgan? You haven't dated since you and Randy struck out that first summer."

"He's completely conceited and stuck on himself. Joel, not Randy."

"No way. Of all the 'pretty-boy' rangers, that guy is the most down to earth I've met."

"Put on a dress and you'll see."

Gina grinned as Billy straightened and swiped a rag across the bar to wipe up stray drops of alcohol.

"Ha! I don't think he'd be attracted to my hairy legs." He leaned to the side to listen to a drink order, then started pouring and talking again. His voice rose as the band began a new song. "He seems like a nice guy to me. You know how small Estes gets in the winter, without the tourists? News of his arrival spread like wildfire, and not only because of his job. I've seen him here at the bar a few times, and he doesn't strike me as a conceited womanizer."

She slapped her palm on the gleaming surface in front of her. Grimacing at the sting, she said, "My point is, because of his looks, he doesn't have to chase them—they come to him. Jerk thinks he's God's gift to women."

In the dim light, Gina rose up on her stool, craning her neck in the direction Britt knew Joel was. "He _is_ really good-looking."

She reached over and yanked on her friend's arm to sit her back down. "Stop it."

Billy cocked his head. "That what the kiss was about?"

"He was trying to prove I _wanted_ him to kiss me."

"Did you?" they asked in unison.

She opened her mouth to deny it, then sighed. "You guys don't get it."

Gina smiled, Billy grinned down at his busy hands.

"It doesn't matter anyway. I'm going back to Chicago at the end of the summer, and it's only been a few weeks since Daniel. I'm not willing to be used again."

Their humor softened to sympathy, making her teeth clench in annoyance as she straightened on her barstool. "You know what? Maybe I will just have a fling, like everyone else does out here."

Before she could turn and pretend to survey the eligible men around her, Billy stated, "No you won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because that's not the Britt we all know and love."

He was right, damn it. Her shoulders slumped. "Well, it's not fair that everyone else has all the fun."

Her pout made them laugh, but she was only half-joking.

## Chapter 10

Mark's mustang, Gypsy, arrived Monday morning, the effects of the tranquilizer still evident. Britt slipped through the gate and Casey latched it behind her. She tuned out the audience of co-workers along the fence and focused on the mare.

She was on the smaller side, but even beneath her unkempt coat and matted mane, Britt could see the strong lines of good conformation. She'd have stamina to carry a rider all day long and then some.

"I can understand why you bought her," she said over her shoulder to her boss. "She's gonna be gorgeous." With some love and a couple good groomings, her dark brown coat would gleam in the sunlight.

Mark didn't reply, and she kept her gaze trained front and center. The horse watched her, but its head hung low, its eyelids and bottom lip droopy. Satisfied the mare wouldn't make any sudden moves, Britt clasped her hands behind her back and eased closer.

"Careful," Casey warned softly.

At about fifteen feet away, she halted and leaned forward, blowing softly toward the animal so the mare could catch her scent. Britt extended one hand. Black-tipped ears flicked back in distrust.

"That's okay, sweetie. Soon we'll be friends."

She stood there a couple more minutes, talking softly all the while, then backed off again. Rejoining Mark and Casey at the fence, she leaned against the rails. The challenge of training the mare sent a little shiver of excitement along her spine. Still, she let her boss wonder a full minute more before shrugging.

"All right, you've got me."

He allowed a slight grin and a soft, "Thank you, ma'am," before ordering everyone back to work.

The day passed in a blur of cleaning stalls, checking tack, grooming horses. Everyone stayed busy getting ready to handle the summer season of tourists that would kick into high gear after Memorial Day. Jon and Mandy took a group of three guests out for an hour ride in the afternoon, leaving Britt to work with Kelly for the last couple hours while Mark and Casey attended a managers meeting.

Kelly had been fine all day with the others around, so when it was just the two of them, Britt gave him a friendly smile, hoping to put their previous encounter behind them. "Mark asked me to finish some paperwork for him, so if you want to polish the rest of the saddles in the tack room, you can head out when you're done. I think there's five left."

"And if I don't want to?"

The edge of antagonism in his voice grated on her nerves. "That's fine. You can shovel the manure in the back, instead."

"Who made you boss?"

"Mark did. I've been here a heck of a lot longer than you, and I know what needs to get done."

"Good for you."

She took a deep breath. "It doesn't have to be like this, Kelly."

His glare didn't diminish as he spun around to stride toward the tack room. She went into the office and ignored him as much as she could until he'd clocked out an hour and a half later. Glad to have his unnerving presence gone, she strolled out to the arena to check on the mustang.

The lengthy afternoon shadows were beginning to camouflage the brown mare. She moved restlessly about the circular enclosure now that the tranquilizer had worn off.

Britt spoke softly to get the mare accustomed to the sound of her voice, but she didn't go inside. That would wait until tomorrow.

 *

Bright sunlight didn't deter the brisk wind that rustled the spring leaves on Britt's walk from the parking lot to the arena Tuesday morning. The barn doors were open, and she assumed Mark was in his office, but a glance at her watch confirmed she had just over an hour before the morning staff meeting he held each day to hand out work assignments. Enough time to get a feel for how to proceed with Gypsy's training.

The mare paced in the enclosure, ears flicking back and forth, eyes taking everything in as she monitored her surroundings. She was constantly on the move, pausing only to snake her head down every so often for a bite of hay.

Britt gave it about ten minutes, then took a deep breath and bent to slip between the boards. Mark had likened the animal to a bull, but how bad could she really be?

Taking slow, unthreatening steps, she started a one-sided, soft conversation and made her way into the middle. The mare seemed calmed by her voice; her movements less agitated, her ears pitching forward with interest.

_Look at that. Maybe all she needs is someone to show her gentleness._

Gypsy stopped and faced her. Her pulse kicked up a notch, but when the mare made no move, she willed her heartbeat to slow. Satisfaction brought a small smile to her lips.

"There you go, girl. See, no one's going to hurt you here."

In the blink of an eye, the horse's ears flattened to her head and she charged. Britt spun and made a run for it. The thunder of hooves vibrated in her chest, sending an additional surge of adrenaline through her legs.

She launched herself the last three feet, scrambling to climb the fence. Dirt sprayed as Gypsy skidded to a halt and slid into the boards beneath her. Momentum carried Britt over the top. As she tumbled over, her cotton shirt caught on a knot in the top board. It held long enough to change her trajectory, then ripped.

Her head slammed against the fence post as she hit the ground. Stars twinkled on the edges of her vision. As she caught her breath, she turned her head to peer between the boards while the mare retreated. Two seconds slower and she would've been pinned against the hard wood by a crazy horse.

"Shoulda thought that through a bit more," she muttered.

A quick glance around the empty stable yard confirmed she was speaking to no one but herself. The fact that Mark hadn't come rushing out meant he hadn't caught the action from the window, either, thank God.

She pulled herself to her feet, one hand gingerly pressed to her tender cheek. Gypsy paused long enough for a mouthful of hay before resuming her restless stride.

"Round one goes to you, girl," Britt conceded dryly.

When she walked into the barn office, Mark barely glanced up from his paperwork as he offered a greeting. "Mornin'."

"Hey."

"What are you doing here so early?"

The mirror on the wall revealed a raw scrape and blossoming bruise on her left cheek. She glanced down at the rip in her shirt, and her dusty jeans. Thankfully, the knot in the board hadn't ripped through the tank top she'd layered beneath her blue button up shirt. With an inward sigh of resignation, she turned to face the inevitable.

Mark glanced up, then sat back in his chair, his gaze fixed on her face. "Whoa, what happened?"

She gave him a wry grin. "I discovered you weren't lying about the bull analogy."

He surged up from his seat to move around his desk. "Did she kick you?"

"No." She held up a staying hand. "No, it's okay. She did exactly what you told me she'd do. This happened on my way over the fence."

He squinted at her injury. "You should have waited for me. You could've really gotten hurt."

"I'm okay." When he looked to lecture further, she insisted, " _Honestly_." She'd love a few aspirin for the headache throbbing in her temples, but no way she'd tell him that. "Can you just relax for a minute? Because now I've got a problem and I need your help."

He sat on the edge of his desk, motioning for her to sit before folding his arms over his chest. "Go ahead."

"When she charged, I ran—"

"I would hope so."

"Except that now puts me back a step. She thinks I'm afraid of her, but I still need to figure out a way to stop her from charging."

"Britt, listen to me. I don't want you—"

"Mark, I said I'm fine."

"And I said, _listen to me._ "

Britt snapped her jaw shut and swallowed her arguments.

"I don't want you to get hurt doing this, which means you don't go in that arena alone." He silenced her impending protest with a scowl. "Furthermore, if I feel there is no progress to be made, I want your word that you'll let it rest and stop the training. I've got enough to worry about without adding your safety to the list."

His unwavering gaze told her he was one hundred percent serious.

"Fine, but you'd better give me a fair chance. She deserves that much," she relented ungraciously, rising to her feet.

"I know, and I will."

"Thank you."

He dipped his chin in silent acknowledgment. "Now, about that problem..."

Britt made her way over to the window to look out at the arena. "I have to be able to stand in front of her without backing down."

"What if Casey and I rope her?"

"I considered that, but it won't work. I don't want to force her, and it wouldn't stop her from charging, it would just reinforce her distrust." She turned back to face him. "I do have an idea, though. If I play kinda like a matador—"

"Nope." He was shaking his head even as he said the word.

"Hear me out," she insisted. "When she gets close enough, I'll step aside and give her a crack on the chest with a riding crop."

He appeared to be considering it, but when he remained silent, she asked, "Unless you don't want me to use the crop?"

"No, I trust you, but I'd still have no way of helping you."

"You'll be by the gate, ready to rope her if you need to." Through the window, she watched Casey park his truck. "Casey, too, if that makes you feel better."

A glance over her shoulder confirmed it didn't, but after another moment, Mark nodded reluctant consent. They met Casey on the way outside, and he noticed her bruise right away.

"I bumped into the fence," she explained. Mark made a sound under his breath, but it wasn't a lie. "You'll understand in a minute."

By the arena, she explained the plan to Casey and then ignored his raised eyebrow of disbelief as she slipped between the boards. Keeping her pace steady, she began her soft words of reassurance. The brisk wind whipped them away, making it impossible for the mare to hear, but if nothing else, the murmuring calmed her own nerves. She could feel each beat of her heart and her palms had grown damp.

When she reached the middle of the arena again, the mare's ears flattened against her head, and she jumped into a gallop. Britt fought the urge to run as a thousand pounds of muscled horseflesh hurled toward her. She had to wait until the final stride to raise the crop camouflaged against her leg.

The mare was four strides away when Britt panicked. If she raised the whip to this animal, she'd never be able to train her. She made a mad dash out of the path of the mare's charging hooves.

"She's coming after you!"

Hoof beats pounded behind her as she leapt for the fence and clambered to the top. Dust billowed up around her as she watched the mare pivot on her hind legs and retreat. Back at the gate, she read the question and concern in Mark's expression. Both men were busy recoiling their ropes.

"I couldn't do it," she said, out of breath from the adrenaline rush. "I realized if I hit her, I'd never get near her again." She stood on the bottom rail and rested her arms on the top, gazing at the mustang. "She's used to everything and everyone running from her."

Casey snorted. "You sure as hell wouldn't catch me standing in her way."

Britt didn't take her eyes off the horse. "How fast did she turn after I ran?"

"Fast enough," he retorted.

"Would I have enough time to face her again? I mean, I've never seen a horse intentionally run into a fence."

"You're not a fence."

She ignored Mark's comment. "I don't think she'd run me over."

"You're putting a lot of faith in a horse that's tried to run you down twice already. By the time you find out, it'll be too late," he argued. "It's completely out of the question."

He started for the barn, and she jumped off the fence to follow. "Mark—"

"Find another way, or quit now. Asking you to train this horse didn't include putting your life in danger."

Britt grabbed hold of his arm. "Seriously, have you ever seen a horse run into a fence on purpose? Each time, when I reached the fence, she turned away because I was no longer a threat."

"You were no longer within her reach."

She must be crazy, defending the mare. Or maybe that knock on the head had done it. But suddenly she couldn't bring herself to give up the challenge. "I appreciate your concern, but now that I've seen it a few times, I honestly don't think she'll follow through with the charge. Besides, you and Casey will still be here if I need any help." One look at his expression, and she hastily added, "Which I won't."

He hesitated, his gaze shifting from her to the mare.

"Please, Mark. I can do this." Suddenly it felt like she was pleading for so much more than the horse.

His gaze met hers once more and she swore he understood. Without a word, he retraced his steps back to the fence. She followed, relieved beyond what was rational.

When she passed Casey, he shook his head with a soft, "You're nuts."

## Chapter 11

Joel pulled into the ranger station right behind his supervisor, Ryan Wagner. By the time he parked, the shorter man stood at his driver's side window and motioned for him to roll it down.

"I'm glad I ran into you," Ryan said. "I had a meeting scheduled with Highlands this morning, but I got a call from the Grand Lake station a few minutes ago. Any chance you can take my place and meet with Mark Jennings to go over their access contract? Then I wouldn't have to reschedule."

"Are you sure you even want to renew it?"

The older man nodded. "I trust Highlands. I trust _Mark_. Not to mention, I heard Britt Lucas is back for another summer. She spends most of her off time camping and knows the park like the back of her hand. She might even be of some help to you."

Joel began shaking his head before Ryan finished. After the other night, he highly doubted she would do a single thing to assist him. Besides which, he didn't want her help. "If you're suggesting a civilian ride with me—"

"I'm not suggesting anything of the sort, but it wouldn't hurt to brief Highlands on the situation. They can keep an eye out on their overnights."

"That could compromise my entire investigation. There's been no evidence that proves the poacher isn't a local resident."

"I'm not saying you hold a press conference, Joel. Just talk to Mark, he'll let you know which of his wranglers can be trusted."

He didn't agree with the idea one bit. Boss or no boss, he didn't like being told how to run his investigation. "I'd prefer to suspend their contract until we catch this bastard."

"No, not just yet."

Unable to completely stem his resentment, he asked, "What about the other ranches? Do I need to make house calls on them as well?"

"Highlands is the only ranch with unlimited access."

"And what makes them so special?"

"It's grandfathered in from years ago. We choose not to challenge it as long as Mark's there."

Twenty minutes later, he made the turn for Highlands Ranch and parked in the lot. This was the last place he'd expected or wanted to be this morning. It had as much to do with his investigation as it did with the woman who'd declared, _All you've proved is you can kiss halfway decent._ He'd almost pulled her back to prove a hell of a lot more than that, but thankfully common sense overrode his ego.

She was going to love him showing up on her turf questioning their right to be in the park. Because grandfathered or not, that's exactly what he intended to do.

He paused, and a small smile tugged at his mouth. _Hmm._ Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. Might even be fun.

As he approached the stables, he saw all the activity was centered alongside an arena beside the barn where a lone horse stood on the far side of the enclosure. He switched direction and approached the men by the fence with a simple greeting. "Mark. Casey."

Fuller ignored him from where he sat on the fence, a lasso coiled in his hands. Mark cast a swift glance from his watch, down toward Joel, and back to the arena. "Where's Ryan?"

"He couldn't make it..." He trailed off as he caught sight of Brittany standing dead center of the fenced circle. Now that he was closer, he could hear snippets of her soft voice carried on the wind.

Without warning, the dark bay horse charged straight at her. Mark and Casey tensed, but neither made a move to help her as she stood frozen, like a deer in the headlights. Joel's stomach dropped, and he rushed to climb the fence, then vaulted over the top board even though he knew he'd never reach her in time.

He raised his arms and yelled, hoping to distract the animal before it trampled her into the dirt. At the very last second, the horse swept past her, within mere inches. He had no chance to be relieved over her safety as the muscled bullet angled his way.

"Get out of here," he hollered at Brittany.

"Don't move," she countered, her voice sharp like when she commanded her stallion.

He froze, mentally judging the distance to the fence, weighing his chances while unfamiliar feelings of protectiveness for the woman twenty yards away warred with the natural instinct to run. As the mare bore down on him, he took a backward step.

" _Hold_."

The mare swerved past him and circled toward Brittany again. The foolish woman held her ground and the mare galloped past, finally returning to the far side of the arena. Brittany had pivoted, keeping her full attention on the horse. Without moving from where she stood, she called out to her boss that she'd meet them in the office.

Mark instructed Casey to stay with her, but now with the excitement apparently over, Joel's temper surfaced in full force. What the hell were they thinking letting her do something so dangerous?

"Come on inside, we've got fresh coffee in the pot," Mark offered.

"Not until she comes in." He leaned against the inside of the fence, making it clear he had no intention of moving. From the corner of his eye, he saw Casey open his mouth to protest, but Mark silenced him with a jerk of his head.

"We'll meet you inside then."

Joel didn't take his eyes off Brittany still talking to the horse. Why did he let her get under his skin? He shouldn't care one bit about the risks she took, and yet the thought of her getting hurt bothered him at a level he didn't quite understand—and definitely didn't welcome.

After a few minutes, she raised a hand to brush her wind-blown curls from her face and turned toward the gate. Her step faltered the instant she spotted him. Then she squared her shoulders and started forward.

God, she really was something. He just wasn't entirely sure how to handle that something. His gaze swept past the defiant tilt of her chin, those lips that he couldn't seem to keep from kissing, and screeched to a halt on the bruise that darkened the left side of her face.

Instead of marching by as he expected, she stopped in front of him. "What do you want?"

"I have a meeting with your boss." He shifted his gaze to her cheek. "That was a pretty stupid thing you did."

"Yeah, but it worked."

The concession surprised him; the haughty confidence did not. He reached out and took hold of her chin, tilting her face for a better look at the reddish-blue bruise. "It was a reckless plan. This could've been a lot worse."

Confusion clouded her eyes before she pulled free. "What do you care?"

"I don't like to see anyone get hurt," he said as she opened the gate and waited for him to step through. While she closed it again, he added a note of warning to his voice. "Or take needless risks."

"Well, this is _my_ turf. You've got no say here."

She stalked ahead of him into the barn, leaving him to follow with a grim smile. He was really going to enjoy these next few minutes. Then he noticed a slight tremble in her hand as she reached for the door of what looked to be their tack room. She wasn't as unaffected as she'd have everyone believe. So what the hell was she trying to prove?

Inside the stable office, he accepted the coffee cup Mark offered. After stirring in a little cream and sugar, he leaned against the wall by the window. Much as he wanted to tear someone a new one over what'd just happened outside, he reminded himself he was here for the investigation, nothing more.

"I assume Ryan briefed you on the reason I was brought to Colorado?"

"He did, even though I'd already heard the rumors."

"Yeah...I love that about this town." A twitch of Mark's lips was the only response to his sarcasm. "Ryan wanted me to review the ranch's contract, but I'm also going to need to talk to your staff. In particular, whoever typically guides your overnights into the park."

"That'd be Casey, Britt and Mitch."

He still had his reservations about Casey, but hadn't met the other guy yet. Brittany was a contradiction he didn't want to think about. "Can I trust each one of them?"

"Explicitly."

Joel nodded, and Mark called the others in to join them. The only one who offered a somewhat congenial greeting was Mitch as he took a seat on the couch against the wall. Casey sat on the opposite side of his co-worker, his demeanor cool and reserved. Despite plenty of room, Brittany remained standing, her resentment tangible.

He kept the meeting short, only giving them a very brief overview of the most general details of his investigation while stressing everything remain confidential. The main thing he needed was for them to watch for anything unusual on their trail rides—one in particular.

"I want to know immediately if anyone local books the Wildlife Ride, or if you notice any repeat riders, even from the past couple years. Highlands is the only stable allowed into that particular area, and all of the hiking trails near there have been closed. So, besides the rangers, you guys are the only ones with access. How often is the ride scheduled?"

"Once a week on Thursdays," Mark answered. "It depends on the guests. We have to be assured they have the riding ability to handle the rough trail."

"There are other areas in the park where the bighorn graze for the summer," Brittany pointed out.

Joel zeroed in on her. "Yes, and those areas have been sealed off and will be patrolled on a regular basis. But your trail leaves a main area open to the public. It may be regulated through your ranch, but it's still open."

"Then why are you allowing us access?"

"If it was solely up to me, we wouldn't even be having this discussion. The whole area would be closed to _every_ one."

"So it's not your decision?"

The challenging lift of her eyebrows questioned his authority in front of everyone and poked his ego—exactly as he was sure she intended.

He locked his gaze with hers. "For _now_ , I have decided not to question Ryan's judgment. However, at any time I feel the need to restrict your access, I won't hesitate to do so."

His slight emphasis on _your_ had her pressing her lips together as if trying to hold back a retort. _Go on, say it_ , he urged silently. He'd love any reason to shut them down right now.

"We understand," Mark said, his warning tone unmistakable in the silence. "We want whoever is doing this caught as much as you do. Whatever we can do to help, we'll do it."

"Good. Then we're on the same page." He didn't shift his gaze away from Brittany's. "Another thing I want to be clear on, no going into the park alone."

Renewed resentment filled her expression. "You can't dictate—"

"I _can_ , and I _am_. This guy murders animals for money, and based on what I've seen, my gut says he's moving beyond financial gain. What you were afraid _I_ might do up there," he pointed out the window toward Long's Peak, "this guy won't think twice about if he catches you alone."

Color bloomed in her cheeks at the reminder of their first meeting.

"Joel's right, Britt."

The firm reinforcement came from Casey. Joel cast him a quick glance, and noted the gravity in the brown gaze that met his. A brief nod told him Fuller was one hundred percent on his side in the matter. Surprising, yet good to know.

"I agree," Mark added in a voice that said the discussion was closed.

Mitch was the only one who didn't chime in. The dark-haired wrangler's silent observation of the entire meeting, including speculative glances between him and Brittany, did not escape Joel's notice. Nor did the fact that Brittany wasn't prepared to take his order sitting down.

"Does this rule of yours apply only to me?"

Joel wished he could say yes, just to piss her off in the face of her defiant sarcasm. But there were still too many unknown variables to consider, and safety came first. "No. Buddy system for everyone, and keep your batteries fresh in your radios. You see anything at all suspicious, call it in immediately."

 *

Joel strode into the ranger station Friday morning despite Ryan's suggestion he take some time off after working straight through since arriving in Colorado a couple weeks ago. His dad had called yesterday about driving down from Montana for a visit after he finished the investigation, he'd take a day or two then.

For now, he just needed to focus on the job, and this morning, he planned to review the background checks he'd ordered for Highlands' employees.

Cal Rogers, the overweight, balding ranger who manned the front desk covered the mouthpiece of the phone with his free hand. "Morning, Joel."

He nodded while pouring a cup of coffee, then grabbed the patrol reports the night-shift rangers had turned in. Nothing unusual stood out with his first scan, so he tucked them under his arm to read more thoroughly at his desk. Sipping from the steaming cup, he ambled over to check out the camper registration map on the wall.

A green pin was stuck in the map near Storm Peak. Once he realized it was the restricted area where Highlands guided their Wildlife Ride, irritation sparked that they hadn't notified him personally with a list of registered guests for his review.

As soon as Cal hung up the phone, Joel indicated the pin. "This Highlands Ranch?"

"Yeah. Britt and Mitch are scouting the trail before the season starts. They wanted us to be aware of the campfire in case there were any patrols tonight."

"Got it. Thanks."

He headed into his office with a scowl and slapped the reports on the desk. Damn it, he didn't care if the two of them were spending the night up there together. Didn't care that Mitch had danced with her at the Kick-off party, nor did he care that the guy had shown undue interest in their exchange the other day at the meeting.

He located the envelope with the background files Randy Gifford had left on his desk and broke the seal. Brittany's was the top one. After a moment of temptation, he set it aside.

Next he found Casey Fuller's and was surprised to discover he had a Bachelor's degree in National Resource Management. In addition, the wrangler had completed the Seasonal Law Enforcement Training Program required to become a law enforcement ranger. So why the hell was he working at Highlands? Looked like he and Fuller would have to have a more in-depth conversation.

His gaze drifted to Brittany's pages more times than he wanted to admit, so finally he just read the damn report. He committed the information to memory, but didn't give himself a chance to process before moving on to Mitch Levins' file.

That's when he discovered just how much he did care who Brittany spent her time with. He grabbed his cell phone and truck keys, and called Mark Jennings on his way out the door.

## Chapter 12

Britt stewed in the saddle as her stallion picked his way along the trail. Mark had called a half-hour ago, claiming he needed Mitch back at the ranch. He hadn't given a specific reason, and the moment she'd heard Joel was riding in to be her new safety buddy, she figured there was more going on than he would say.

_Or could say_.

Mitch's initial frown had morphed into an emotionless mask, so different from his usual carefree attitude. He hadn't questioned the request, or even commented when she tried to speculate about the change of plans. With a grim "Good luck," he'd turned his mount back toward the trailhead and left her wondering what the heck was going on.

She'd slowed Paelo's stride, but sure as hell wasn't going to stop and twiddle her thumbs while waiting for Mr. Power-trip Ranger to catch up. She was tired of him issuing orders and ruining her day every time she turned around.

With the sun warming her back, she tried to enjoy the scenery while she could. Lord knew once _he_ appeared she wouldn't have a moment's peace for the rest of the trip. In the past week, the new leaves on the trees had darkened to a deeper shade of green, their thick foliage shading the trail so much in places the snow from a week ago still hadn't completely melted. She knew the terrain well, had each landmark etched in her mind. The hands of time and Mother Nature changed something about them every year and she looked forward to cataloguing the alterations each spring.

Her gaze scanned the trail ahead and the sight of hoof prints in the snow made her draw back on the reins. The tracks didn't appear fresh, maybe a few days old judging by how they disappeared wherever the sun had melted the snow. She dismounted and gave Paelo a soft command.

Inspecting the bare ground, she saw no sign of passage in the moist soil, not even a slight indent. She'd guess the rider had come through sometime after the storm a week ago because there hadn't been any precipitation since then.

_This guy won't think twice if he catches you alone._

Joel's ominous warning from the meeting sent a tingle of uneasiness along her spine. She rose to her feet, shifting her gaze from tree to tree, studying the shadows as she imagined someone out there, watching her.

A sudden rustle from behind made her jump and spin around. Paelo stared back at her as he chewed a small branch loaded with green leaves. The pounding of her heart eased.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," she muttered. The tracks were obviously old, and whoever it had been was long gone by now.

Still, she decided it might not be a bad idea to wait after all. She backed Paelo up so they wouldn't disturb any more of the tracks and found a large boulder alongside the trail where she could sit.

Quite a bit later than she expected, Joel rode up, his face cast in shadow from the low-sitting brim of his Stetson. She stood as he dismounted before facing her with a scowl.

"I specifically instructed you to wait."

Irritation flared even as she wondered how he knew she hadn't. Then it dawned on her, Paelo had left behind his own set of single tracks. Shrugging, she retorted, "You caught up, didn't you?"

His jaw tightened and his fists clenched at his sides. Britt stood her ground despite the fact her stomach was doing that damn little flippy thing it did whenever he was near. She moistened suddenly dry lips, and his attention flicked down.

Heat flared at the memory of his mouth on hers. She'd re-imagined both kisses way too many times over the past couple days.

"I—" Her voice broke. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I found some tracks."

He finally took a small step back and she moved past to direct him to the spot. As he squatted for a better look, a reassuring thought occurred to her. "They're probably from a ranger, but I figured you'd want to look at them."

He rose back to his full height. "Stay here. I'm going to see if I can pick up the trail further on."

She automatically took a step after him, and he whirled so fast she gasped.

Taking hold of her shoulders, he backed her up until the heels of her boots came up against the boulder she'd been sitting on. "Damn it, Brittany, I said _stay here._ "

"I was just going to—"

With a low growl, he pressed her shoulders until she sat. She leaned back as he planted a hand on either side of her. "This is precisely why I told you to wait. Any evidence up to this point you've trampled, now let me see what I can salvage of the rest of it without you getting in the way. Move off this rock and I'm going to take you straight back down this mountain—trail be damned."

She crossed her arms over her chest, meeting him stare for stare as her stomach muscles quivered from the extended backward lean. When he straightened and walked away, she fantasized about throwing something at his head, then got up and went to stand by her horse.

Guilt began to creep in and she tried to rationalize it away. If anything, he ought to be grateful she'd even noticed the tracks for him. If she and Mitch had still been riding, they might have missed them all together.

Joel returned after a few minutes. His gaze narrowed at the sight of her next to Paelo, but he didn't say a word as he stuck a foot in the stirrup and swung astride his horse. She mounted up as well.

"Where'd they go?"

"Nowhere. This was it."

He touched his heel to his bay's side, and as they moved forward, she urged Paelo to follow. "Was it a ranger?"

"Can't tell that from a set of prints."

His sarcasm only made her feel worse about potentially destroying evidence. "I meant were there any patrols over here after the storm?"

"No."

She gave the silence a few minutes, then asked, "You going to explain why Mitch had to go back?"

"No."

"Why not?" When he didn't reply, she asked, "Don't you trust him?"

"I don't know him."

"You don't really know me, yet I'm still here."

"You didn't have anything pop up in your background check."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. "You ran a background check on _me_?"

"I ran one on everyone at the ranch."

She'd deal with that later. "So, what was in Mitch's?"

He cast a quick glance back over his shoulder, then faced forward again.

When he didn't offer more, she huffed out a breath of annoyance. "Really? That's it?"

"I've got a valid reason for pulling Levins back that is none of your business, so just leave it alone."

Her annoyed glower was useless pointed toward his back. "I work with the guy, Joel. We take guests on overnight camping trips into the remote wilderness. I feel like I do know him and trust him, but clearly you've found something out, so it'd be nice to know if I have anything to be concerned about."

He spun his horse around to face her on a more open section of the trail. His eyes were narrowed in speculation. "You think you know him?"

"I've worked with him for three summers. We've spent a lot of time together at the ranch and on overnights."

Leaning a forearm on the saddle horn, he dangled the reins with a loose wrist. "Exactly how close are the two of you?"

"Excuse me?" She stiffened in the saddle at his obvious inference, indignation revving her pulse. "You think that's _your_ business?"

He shrugged, but his gaze remained laser sharp beneath the brim of his hat.

"Mitch and I are friends, nothing more. Furthermore, there have never been any problems with him, otherwise Mark wouldn't keep him around. He can't be the poacher; he'd never kill animals just for sport."

"What about for money?"

She shook her head. "Highlands pays well."

"Sometimes people get themselves in trouble. Sometimes they simply get addicted to the thrill of the kill."

"Mitch doesn't even hunt! He's a genuinely nice guy. Yes, he's a huge flirt, but once you get past that, he's _nice_. He works hard, doesn't get into trouble, doesn't even drink that I know of." That was one of the reasons they'd bonded over the past couple years.

"Did you know your _nice guy_ has a criminal record?"

That she did _not_ know.

"Yeah, I didn't think so." Joel sat up straight and adjusted the reins. "Neither did your boss."

"What'd he do?"

"That's not for me to say." He reined his bay around and started along the trail again. "I shouldn't have even told you that much, but I happen to agree that with your work situation, it's something you should've been aware of."

Paelo followed without any direction from her, but she was too busy trying to imagine Mitch's grin on a mug shot. Even when paired with his bleak reaction to Mark calling him back earlier, it didn't fit.

"If he's a suspect, why are you here with me? Why didn't you take him in for questioning?"

"I got what I needed when he and I met at the trailhead. For the moment, I'm satisfied with his responses."

"Then why are you here instead of him?" she repeated.

"Because Mark said you guys need the trail cleared, and I can't have a convicted felon roaming around with free access to restricted areas in the middle of my investigation."

_Convicted felon._ The words echoed in her mind, along with _lying cheater_. Mitch was just another example of _what you see is not always what is true_. She'd trusted the face he presented to the world. Just like she'd trusted Daniel, only to find out he didn't want her, he'd only been using her to further his position in her father's company. She'd trusted her father to back her up, and instead, he'd informed her he had no intention of letting a bad personal choice ruin his protégé's promising career.

Hearing herself described as a _bad personal choice_ was a knife to the heart she'd never let her father see. He would've preached about staying focused and not letting emotions get in the way—like her mother had. Which her mother would tell her was exactly why the marriage didn't last longer than ten years.

Funny thing, she suddenly realized her father's lack of support hurt more than Daniel's numerous infidelities and lies. Her pride had suffered more than her heart, likely because she'd also been using him, as a way to gain her father's approval. And it'd worked, until business got in the way, and she'd disappointed him once again.

_No,_ he _disappointed_ me.

Her gaze shifted to Joel's broad shoulders. He reminded her of her father in his single-minded dedication to the job, yet protecting the animals was a noble cause she couldn't condemn. The difference made her wonder, was there more to the bossy, arrogant jerk than she'd seen so far?

## Chapter 13

She'd been awfully quiet the past couple hours. Which should've been fine with him, but instead, Joel wondered what was going on in that stubborn head of hers. Especially when she avoided his gaze whenever they had to stop to clear a fallen tree or loose rocks from the trail. Had she lied about her relationship with Levins and now worried about what kind of man she'd gotten herself involved with?

His jaw tightened at the thought, and how she'd been awful quick on the defense of her _nice guy._ He wondered what she'd say when she found out he'd done time for dealing drugs, and armed robbery. Much as he'd wanted to tell her more, those details would be up to Levins to reveal. He'd already walked a fine line telling her the guy had a record, and only because she'd made a good point that she had a right to know who she spent the night with.

And there it was again—were they really just friends? Unfortunately, he'd learned long ago, people lied all the time, even those closest to you. He kind of expected it at this point, though he sure hoped Brittany's lie of omission last week was the end of her deception.

Ignoring the distracting attraction humming in the background, he could admit his original assumptions about her being a spoiled brat were off. She definitely had no problem pulling her weight in the work department. And he kind of admired her fierce independence, even if it mostly annoyed the hell out of him.

It was nearing four p.m. when the trail seemed to disappear in front of him. Joel brought Nobel to a halt, and he heard Brittany's groan of dismay behind him. A rockslide had covered an entire corner of the switchbacks they'd been following to traverse the steep slope of the mountainside.

"How much further to the campsite?" he asked as they dismounted.

"We're almost there. But I don't see any way around this, so we're going to have to move it all by hand."

He'd reached the same conclusion and pulled a pair of gloves from his saddle bags to help her clear the rocks. A couple times he caught her lifting more than he thought she should and quickly stepped over to relieve her of the weight. The first time, he received a frown of annoyance; the second, he glimpsed relief to go with her quiet, "Thank you."

Once they finished clearing a safe path for the horses, they continued to the overnight camp. He noticed she moved pretty slow as she pulled herself into the saddle, but when she didn't complain, he attributed it to the physical labor that had even his muscles protesting.

She led the rest of the way, only stopping once they'd rounded a bend in the well-worn trail to see a camp right near a wide stand of pines. The small stream they'd crossed numerous times on the trail bisected the trees as it flowed from a clearing on the other side.

Joel moved ahead to the crude corral the ranch had constructed. He dismounted, made a mental note that the grass inside had been grazed within the past week, then turned to remove Nobel's tack. From the corner of his eye, he watched Brittany move to get off her horse. Once her feet touched the ground, she held tight to the saddle horn and leaned her forehead against the leather.

_Yeah, she's hurtin'._ He set his saddle aside and moved in behind her. "You okay?"

She stiffened and pushed herself to stand straight. "Fine."

Her back was to him, but it sounded like she was gritting her teeth. He didn't move away as she loosened the ties securing her saddle bags, then dragged them off her horse's back. The moment the weight was in her hands, she let it drop with a gasp.

Joel moved forward as she swayed. "You are not fine. What'd you do?"

She pushed him away and swiped at her cheek. "I pulled my back."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"There's nothing you can do about it."

"I can help you," he argued. Then it dawned on him why she'd kept quiet and guilt pressed heavy on his shoulders. "You've got nothing to prove, you know. I'm sorry if my past assumptions made you feel like you did."

Her head lifted, surprise clear in her shimmering green eyes. He leaned forward, and heard her breath catch. His pulse skipped in response, and he fought to keep from dropping his gaze to her mouth. Each time he'd kissed her had only lead to wanting more. If he wasn't careful, she'd become an addiction he couldn't resist.

When she sidestepped, it made it easier for him to undo the cinch on her saddle. He lifted it off with one hand, then bent to grab her bags with the other. He set her things next to his by the campfire ring, dug out one of her brushes, and returned to her side.

She held out her hand, her expression determined. "I can do it."

In the time it took her to take care of her horse, he'd done the same for his gelding, lit a fire, and started dinner. He looked up as she approached. "How's your back?"

"I took a couple ibuprofen, so it's bearable." Her gaze shifted from their gear he'd carried over, to the food heating in the pot above the fire. "You didn't have to do all this."

"It's only soup. No big deal." He glanced up, then gestured to one of the benches set around the fire pit. "Just relax, it's almost done."

As she took a seat, he felt her assessing gaze. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what came next.

"Let's talk about my background check."

Yep. Only a matter of time before she brought that up. "What about it?"

"What did you learn?"

"Enough." Enough to intrigue him and raise even more questions as he mentally evaluated the information during their ride.

"Such as?"

Her voice told him she wasn't going to let it go until she had some answers. He gave her one she'd love. "I at least had the rich part right."

He glanced up to see her watching him, only the response he expected never came. Instead, she sat there, eyebrows raised, waiting for more. Okay, fine, he'd play.

"You've never been arrested, no outstanding warrants, no parking tickets. Never been married, no kids. Parents divorced, one sister." He dumped the vegetable stew into two bowls and handed one over to her before settling back with his own. "You're an Illinois resident, but you've worked out here every summer since high school. You graduated college with honors this spring with a double major in business and advertising. Your finances are secure and you've got good credit."

"Hm. That's a lot of info." Steam rose as she stirred her spoon in a circle. "Any of it make _me_ a suspect?"

A quick glance caught her still watching him from beneath her lashes. He gave a noncommittal shrug. She was less suspect than Mitch, but he'd rather keep her guessing. Then again, as she'd pointed out earlier, she was still here, so she should've guessed the answer to her question before even asking.

"You're employed by Lucas International Technologies. That's your father's company, right?"

"Yes."

"Then what are you doing out here?"

"Helping a friend." She stirred some more, then added, "Figuring out what I really want to do with my life."

The unexpected admission seemed to surprise even her. After having just graduated with a double major that fit in perfectly with her father's company, he could see why. She frowned down into her bowl and he tilted his head in consideration. "That what the mustang is about?"

Her shoulders rose in a slight shrug. "Maybe. Probably."

"You'd have job security with your father," he pointed out. "These days, that's pretty hard to come by."

"Yeah, you've got a point." One she didn't look too happy about as she lifted her spoon.

"But?"

"You haven't met my father. He has extremely high expectations, and it's not always easy to live up to them."

"Yet you're here instead of there."

"I am. And he wasn't too happy about it."

"Because you put a friend before family?"

"No, because I put a friend before my career. His business _always_ comes first." Resentment weighed her voice down, coating her words in hurt.

Joel wondered if the guy was that much of a jerk, or did he only have the job? Divorced, his daughter run off to Colorado to find herself...maybe the poor guy was just trying to survive. Joel knew from experience, family didn't guarantee devotion. With his mother, money had come first and— _nope, not going there_.

He focused back on Brittany to see her lips curved in a brief smile. Then she looked up and flipped the conversation on him. "Enough about me. Tell me, if I were to read a background check on _you_ , what would I learn?"

"My middle name."

"Which is...?"

"The most exciting thing in there."

"Come on, you're not going to tell me what it is?"

"Nope."

Her gaze narrowed, then she shrugged. "Fine. Have you ever been married?"

"Nope."

"Any kids?"

He shook his head as he set his empty bowl aside.

"How long have you been a ranger?"

"Eight years."

"Got any parking tickets?"

He sat back with a short laugh. "Nope."

"Ever been arrested?"

After a second of hesitation, he decided to stick with the truth. "Once."

"For?"

"Bar fight."

"Was this recently?"

"No." A smile tugged his lips. "I was eighteen, so I got slapped with underage drinking, too."

"I bet it started over a girl."

"That's a bet you'd win."

"So, what happened? You and a buddy fight over her?"

"Her boyfriend showed up."

"Ah. Busted."

Was that a note of disappointment in her voice? His pride didn't like her thinking he would knowingly take part in a relationship that involved cheating. "I didn't know she had a boyfriend."

Her gaze met his, her face lit by the flames between them. Understanding flashed in her eyes. "That when you started thinking all women are dishonest?"

His smile slipped, then disappeared all together. A picture of his mother flashed in his mind, but he clamped his mouth shut and stood. He had no intention of sharing sad stories with her around the campfire. Clearly, he'd already said way too damn much.

He indicated her bowl. "You done?"

She handed him the empty dish without a word, her expression cautious. He pushed away a flicker of guilt and carried the dishes and pot to the stream for a good scrubbing. Just because she asked a question didn't mean he had to answer.

When he returned, she'd finished spreading her sleeping bag over the cushioned mat that had been rolled up on the back of her saddle.

"No tent this time?"

"Nope. I wanted to see the stars tonight."

Hm, definitely more to her than he'd originally thought.

He watched her gingerly lower herself onto the ground. Her quickly masked grimace prompted him to reach into his own pack.

Once his hand closed around the cool bottle of liniment, he second-guessed the wisdom of what he was about to suggest and instead set up his own sleeping arrangements. Mat, then sleeping bag, and saddle at the head to lean against until he turned in for the night.

Darkness had fallen, deepening the nighttime chill, but it wasn't nearly as cold as the previous weekend. It didn't take long for the hard ground to register as he sat facing the fire, even with the cushion of his mat. After a silent sigh of resignation, he pulled out the liniment.

"I keep this for Nobel, but it'll work for you if you want me to rub some on your back."

Her gaze fixed on the bottle in his hand. His heartbeat increased tempo at the thought of her accepting his offer, and he prayed she'd refuse.

## Chapter 14

Joel's hands on her bare skin was a very dangerous proposition. Other than his sudden clam-up a few minutes ago, he'd been nice today. Less arrogant, more human. A guy she could easily like, which meant she shouldn't even hesitate to say _NO_.

Yet, the rough ride up would be just as tough on the way down. Worse if her back stiffened after a night on the hard ground. She'd be stupid to turn down any help he offered. A surge of anticipation told her she was just as stupid to accept...

"The ibuprofen took the edge off."

"And the next eight hours on the ground will put it back and then some."

"I know." She lifted her gaze. "I guess, if you really don't mind?"

He motioned for her to turn around. She eased her jacket off and turned her back to him as he kneeled on her sleeping bag.

"Where does it hurt?" he asked.

"My lower back, up into the middle."

"You're going to need to lie down, and, um...probably take your shirt off."

The low timbre of his voice flipped her stomach end over end. He was right, though it didn't calm her pulse when he helped her remove her zip-up hooded sweatshirt. Her shaky fingers unbuttoned the shirt underneath to allow him freedom to push it up. Without taking it off, she carefully maneuvered until she could stretch out on her stomach. She trusted him, but that was going to have to be good enough.

Her heart pounded as his thigh brushed her hip. He pushed the soft flannel material up her back, and she shivered as the night air whispered over her skin. The rasp of his palms rubbing together reached her ears, then the strong scent of spearmint inundated her senses. Her shallow breaths weren't taking in near enough oxygen to calm her racing heart, so she concentrated on extending each inhale.

With the first brush of his warm fingers, she flinched. Cold air replaced the heat of his hands.

"Did that hurt? I barely touched you."

"Your hands are cold."

"Oh. Sorry."

Then, even the white lie made her feel bad. "It's fine."

The second touch of his hands spread the ointment from the base of her back along her jeans, up to her shoulder blades. Tingles spread along her skin as heat flooded her body.

"I'm not pressing too hard, am I?"

"No, it's good."

Better than good, his hands felt like magic as he kneaded the sore, strained muscles. Five minutes or so into the massage, she'd swear her bones were melting. The liniment had softened his work-rough palms and his firm manipulations eased the pain so skillfully, a low, appreciative groan slipped from between her lips.

When the sound registered, mortification left a hot sting in its wake. God, that had sounded like she was aroused. She was, but certainly didn't want him to know.

"You okay?"

Joel's husky voice sent another shimmer of sensation through her. She made a face into the privacy of her sleeping bag, then managed a " _Um, hm_."

"Then relax," he admonished. "Or none of this will do any good."

Turning her face back toward the fire, she rested her cheek on the sleeping bag, blew out a deep breath, and willed the tension from her muscles.

"That's better."

No, not really. Because now she was beginning to imagine his sensual touch moving beyond her back. Wondered what he'd do if she rolled over and reached up to pull him down for a kiss. Her nipples tightened in anticipation of one of those rough palms skimming up to cup her breast. Problem with that line of thinking was she wouldn't want him to stop with just a kiss, and Billy was right, she didn't do casual sex.

Another moan threatened to break free. She needed a distraction _now_. "Tell me, how does one become a special investigator for the park system?"

His massage paused for a moment, then continued. "Be good at solving mysteries, pass a test, and be willing to travel."

"So, you move from park to park wherever you're needed?"

"Pretty much."

"Well, scratch that off my list of what I might do with my life." She was joking, because after six years of college, there really wasn't any doubt as to where she'd end up after the summer was over. No matter how many slips of the tongue she had.

"You don't like to travel?" Joel asked.

"I do, but not _all_ the time. That must be hell on your relationships."

"I don't do relationships." His hands increased their pressure. "Too messy when I move on. Because I always move on."

Kind of sounded like he was warning her, but she completely understood. "I get it. I've always planned to return to Chicago, so it's easier to just make friends and have fun each summer."

"Yeah, well, it's a little hard to make friends when a lot of the people you work with start off as potential suspects." His tone was light, but she suspected there might be a depth of truth to the joke he would not willingly admit.

"Sounds lonely."

She felt his shrug through his hands. "I didn't grow up with any siblings, so I'm used to being by myself."

"Ah, ha. Only child explains your whole _my-way-or-the-highway_ attitude."

His hands stilled. "I'm not that bad."

The hint of a smile in his voice encouraged her to tease. "Yes you are. Your parents probably spoiled _you_ rotten."

"I'll have you know, my dad was very strict."

"Then I bet it's your mom's fault."

Tension practically exploded from his fingertips. "That's another bet you'd win."

She tucked her chin toward her shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of his face after that rough statement. "I take it you and your mom aren't close?"

He tugged her flannel shirt back down to her waist and pushed to his feet. "No."

She eased up into a sitting position and watched him over her shoulder as she buttoned her shirt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

A raised hand cut her off. "Just let it go."

_Whoa. Sore subject_. Firelight and shadow played across the angles of his face as he tossed a couple more pieces of wood on top the others in the pit, sending a shower of sparks into the air. She pulled on her sweatshirt, then her jacket to ward off the chill. Turning to face the fire, she remained silent while he rearranged the burning logs with a poker. His jaw was set in a rigid line, his movements stiff and jerky.

She waited until he set the poker down. Waited as he lowered himself down to his sleeping bag and settled back against his saddle. When he pulled his hat down to shadow his face in a clear indication he was going to sleep, she bit her tongue in an effort to keep her mouth shut. It didn't work.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

He didn't respond.

"Joel."

His chest expanded as he took a deep breath, then blew it back out. "What's the point of apologizing if you're just going to keep at it?"

The words were as controlled as his breath had been. She didn't speak again as she sat there watching him. Seconds felt like an eternity as she silently willed him to talk. One minute passed. Two. Finally, she slipped into her own sleeping bag and stared up at the stars instead of the hat concealing his face.

When she realized how badly she suddenly wanted to understand him, she took a mental step back. She was in dangerous territory with him. Considering how the summer would end for both of them, and probably even sooner for him, it was best if she didn't reach a point where she understood the man any better than she had to.

## Chapter 15

He'd slept like shit, and Brittany had risen early—too damn early. It was dark enough yet that she'd had to click on a flashlight for whatever she was doing. Joel slit his eyes open to see her reading the label on the bottle of liniment he'd used on her back. She set the bottle down and picked up her hairbrush to work the tangles out of her hair before twisting the silky mass into a thick braid. The back rub must've worked, because she moved with much more ease this morning.

When she stood and began a series of long, slow stretches, his pulse quickened and he closed his eyes tight. _Not already_. Last night had been as torturous as he'd imagined. Touching her without the freedom to explore all that soft, supple skin. He'd known he would be playing with fire, but couldn't seem to help himself around her, and that bothered the hell out of him almost as much as when she'd asked about his mother.

A rustling sound prompted him to lift his lids enough to see her swing her backpack to her shoulder and walk toward the stream. Once she was out of sight, he rubbed the heels of his hands into his burning eyes and sat up with a low groan. Turning his wrist to peer at his watch in the dim light of approaching dawn, he frowned at the time. Where the heck was she going at five-thirty in the morning?

When it dawned on him she was probably taking advantage of the early hour to wash up in privacy, he lay back down. Didn't take but a moment for the rogue memory of that kiss on the dance floor to ambush him. She'd smelled fresh as a summer rain with the sun shining. And apples. Her shampoo must be apple-scented because he remembered wanting to bury his face in those blond strands and savor the fragrance.

The memory drove him to his feet with a curse, and he sought distraction in stoking the fire and boiling water for coffee.

Another glance at his watch told him she'd been gone five minutes. When it reached ten, he stirred his instant coffee and paced to the corral. By the time he'd clocked a quarter hour, his impatience reached its limit and he strode back to the campfire to plunk his cup on the bench. The hell with privacy.

Quick strides brought him through the break in the trees, to the clearing on the other side. His gaze swept the area, uneasiness taking root in his gut when she was nowhere to be seen. He'd spotted a couple more signs that whoever had left those tracks on the trail had been this far. The grazed grass in the corral, a weathered boot print near the stream. The thought of her alone and unprotected had him seeking the reassurance of his gun in his holster.

He was about to call her name when he caught movement amidst the boulder-strewn incline on the opposite side of the clearing. All senses alert, he pinpointed the location, squinting to make out the shape until he recognized Brittany, climbing the rocky slope.

The sun was beginning to crest the tree tops, bathing the ledge above her in golden light. She took her time, and he realized she was snapping pictures along the way. She was so engrossed with her camera, he caught up in no time without her even knowing he was behind her.

"Where are you going?"

She gasped and whirled around. Her free hand flailed as she lost her balance and he lunged forward to keep her from falling. With her shoulder braced against his chest, apple freshness punched him in the gut.

"Careful."

"I was fine until you snuck up on me," she complained as she pushed away.

He kept a hand on her arm until he was sure she had her footing. "You weren't even paying attention. Is there a reason your little climbing session couldn't wait?"

She glanced toward the ridge above them. When she looked back at him, he noticed she avoided his gaze. "I wanted to see the sunrise, and you were still sleeping."

Yeah, and he'd bet she'd counted on him remaining asleep until she got back. "Next time look closer. You shouldn't be out here by yourself."

"I'm not that far from camp, and I've been up here before."

He rested one booted foot on the rock in front of him, and one hand on his weapon for emphasis. "It's far enough that I wouldn't have been able to reach you fast enough if something happened. I had better things to do today, you know. I'm not insisting on the buddy system just for the fun of it."

"Okay." Now her gaze met his, solemn in the morning sunlight. "I'm sorry."

That was unexpected. He gave a brief nod at her apology, then shifted to the side for her to go first. "Let's go."

"But—" She broke off with a gasp, eyes wide. " _Oh, my God_."

Joel drew his gun while spinning around to follow her frightened gaze.

Less than fifty yards away, a tawny-colored mountain lion crouched near the stream. Brittany grabbed his arm in a death-grip, but when she raised her camera and stepped past him, he realized she wasn't afraid, she was in awe. With her second step, he knew she'd keep going if he didn't stop her.

He caught her shoulder, only to have her shrug him away. "Britt—"

" _Shhh_."

The cougar's eyes were mere slits as it lapped water from the frigid mountain stream that separated them. She snapped a picture, readjusted the focus, and snapped again. Since she'd stopped moving forward, he let her be. He counted eight clicks before she lowered the camera and simply watched.

Joel hadn't taken his eyes off the cougar and estimated it to be almost six feet, from its nose to the tip of its twitching tail. His arm remained against his side, but his grip was tight, index finger flat along the barrel of his pistol, ready to pull the trigger. He held his breath when the cat raised its head. The intensity of the predator's unwavering stare made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Beside him, he heard Brittany's breath hitch.

Finally, the cat moved swiftly across the rocks, powerful muscles rippling under its sleek coat as it disappeared in a stand of wind-stunted pines on the far side of the boulder field.

Joel let out a silent sigh with Brittany's audible one. She twisted around to face him, excitement lighting up her face as she pressed a hand flat to his chest. "Can you believe that just happened?"

His heart thudded hard at the sight of her sparkling green eyes and that radiant smile. She stood close enough for him to feel her body heat, and the desire to haul her into his arms for a taste of sunshine and apples nearly overpowered rational thought.

Annoyed at the primal reaction, he grasped her wrist to remove her hand, and made no attempt to temper his rough tone as he holstered his weapon. " _That_ is exactly one of the reasons you shouldn't be out here alone."

At the blunt reminder, the enthusiasm in her eyes morphed into resentment. She pulled free of his hold and took a step back. Just as he started to feel bad, she lifted her chin with a defiant smile and turned away.

"You can be as grumpy as you want, but that was amazing, and you're not ruining it for me."

She clicked through her digital pictures while he scowled at her back. The cat's magnificence didn't negate the threat it presented, especially considering it hadn't appeared the least bit afraid of them. Cougars were known as the phantom cat for a reason—they typically did not let themselves be seen. He didn't like that this one had.

"That mountain lion was—and still is—very dangerous. You'd better hope he doesn't get hungry anytime soon," he warned. "Let's get going."

"Um...I don't think he's hungry." She shifted her camera so he could see the picture she'd zoomed in on. "Looks like he just ate."

Joel took the camera for a closer look. Crimson stains marred the white hair around the cat's nose and mouth, as well as the cinnamon-colored fur of its chest and massive paws. Apprehension shimmered along his spine as he raised his gaze to scan the ridge Brittany had been climbing toward earlier.

"Now you going to tell me what's up there?"

After a slight hesitation, she gave a soft sigh. "A small meadow where the big horn like to graze in the spring and summer."

More lies of omission. At least she had the grace to look slightly guilty this time. "That's where you were really headed, isn't it?"

" _After_ the sunrise, yes. We don't bring the guests up here, so I was hoping to get some pictures on this trip."

He took another look at the photo of the cougar before handing the camera back. "Well, it's your lucky day. Let's go."

"We're going up?"

The hope in her voice reminded him of a kid at Christmas. "We're going up," he confirmed. "I want to see if I can find whatever that cougar had for breakfast."

"Why?"

"To see if he made the kill, or someone else made it for him."

Her expression sobered. He gestured for her to lead and they made their way up the boulder field. At the ledge, she struggled to pull herself over the edge. He allowed one moment to enjoy the view of her denim-clad backside in the light of day, then laced his fingers together to give her a boost onto the ledge.

After pulling himself up, he dusted off and joined her next to a boulder a couple feet taller than him. She put a finger to her lips and motioned him forward. He pressed against her back to view the large meadow that stretched about a hundred yards deep and maybe thirty yards wide. A small herd of bighorn sheep grazed on the spring grass at the far end.

To most people, the sheep themselves weren't the most beautiful animals, but the power and strength of the older rams commanded attention and respect. There were a couple of young males play-fighting off to one side and she snapped some shots of them horn to horn. A few more photos of the rest of the herd was all she managed before one of the ewes sensed their presence and alerted the others.

Joel became aware of how close he stood to Brittany and moved away from her as the sheep bounded up the rocky slope in an impressive display of agility. "How did you know about this place?"

She snapped a few more photos before lowering the camera. "Casey and I discovered it by accident when we decided to do some climbing after scouting the trail my second summer out here."

The thought of her and Fuller up here alone brought a frown. Were they such good friends because they had a history? Like her and Mitch Levins? He shouldn't give a shit about her romantic history, yet the thought of her with either of those guys stirred up an emotion he hadn't felt in years.

Refusing to acknowledge it, he gestured toward the camp below. "From down there, a person would never know this meadow existed."

"Which is exactly why we don't bring guests up here. The sheep remain undisturbed."

"The _Wildlife_ Ride doesn't include a viewing of the sheep?" He didn't bother to hide his skepticism.

She frowned. "There's other places to spot them along the way. In addition to elk, mule deer, and other animals, our guests see plenty."

"Any specific reason you wanted to keep the meadow a secret from me?" He watched close for her reaction, but all she did was shrug as she fiddled with the camera hanging around her neck.

"Casey and I agreed not to tell anyone about it."

He had to consciously keep his fingers from fisting at his sides. "Special place for the two of you?"

Annoyance flashed in her eyes. "Not in the way you're implying. He's been married since the day we met. We're just friends."

"You're friends with a lot of guys," he pointed out as he turned to start scanning the ground for telltale signs of the poacher.

"Yeah? So? I told you I don't date here."

"You said you have _fun_."

"Yes. As _friends._ There are no benefits," she insisted. "Don't tell me you're one of those people who think men and women can't be friends."

"In my experience, they can't."

"Based on what you told me last night, your experience is severely limited."

"I have experience," he assured her, glancing back with a grin. "Unlike you, I do date."

"A week or two with someone new at each park? _That_ is not dating."

He shrugged, but didn't tell her it had been more than a couple cases since his last 'date.' "Everyone knows the score going in."

"Sounds great."

Her voice said the opposite of her words. He chanced another glance back and she stiffened when he caught her watching him. When her gaze flicked to the camera in her hands, for a second, he'd swear she looked disappointed. But then she raised her head and gave him a challenging smile.

"We could be friends."

"You and me?" He let out a short laugh. "Yeah, right."

"Why not?"

His gaze flicked down to her mouth and he turned away _. That's_ why. Because he hadn't been able to stop thinking about benefits since he'd met the darn woman. What would she say to that?

Deciding he'd had enough of the conversation, he steered things back to business. "Do you know if this is a well known area? For locals, I mean."

"Um..."

So much confusion in that one little sound. Got him wondering about her offer of friendship. She'd asked, _why not?_ He wondered, _why?_

"I wouldn't think so," she finally replied. "I don't even know if Mark knows about it."

He turned to face her dead on. "Do you know if Casey's been up here lately?"

It only took a second for comprehension to wipe everything else from her expression. "Casey is not the poacher. Surely you saw his background check. He went to school to be a ranger, just like you. He would never—"

"You also thought Levins was a nice guy."

Her gaze narrowed. "The Mitch _I_ know _is_ nice."

Great, she was still defending the convicted felon.

"At this point, I can't afford to discount anyone completely," he advised. "Not even nice guys or wannabe rangers. Now, if you're done taking pictures, I'm going to start looking for that kill."

## Chapter 16

Britt swallowed hard as Joel turned away. After he'd scoffed at her desperate suggestion for them to be friends, he might as well have tacked on the part he was surely thinking.

_Not even nice guys or wannabe rangers...or wranglers like you._

The guy didn't make friends because the people in his life were all suspects. And the women, it seemed, had the added _benefit_ of being a fun way to pass the time.

Ironic, considering she'd only suggested friendship in an attempt to ward off the growing attraction that had her rethinking her No Casual Sex rule. He'd told her he didn't do relationships. He warned her he always moved on, so she figured if they were friends, she'd have a clear line drawn in the sand. Thinking about kissing him, or how his rough, warm hands would feel skimming every inch of her body would definitely be on the _other_ side of that line.

Well, she knew where she stood now, didn't she? He didn't trust her, and the fact she hadn't told him about the meadow didn't help her case. She was way on the other side of the line. Problem solved.

_You wish_.

Britt ignored the annoying inner voice that knew too much and asked, "What can I do?" No matter what he thought of her and her friends, she did understand where he was coming from in relation to the job he had to do, and helping was better than standing there wallowing in frustrated resentment.

"I'm searching for either footprints or cougar tracks. If you want to check that way, we'll see what we can find." He pointed her in the opposite direction he'd been heading. "Go slow so you don't accidentally step on anything, and if you spot something, let me know."

She began a sweeping search like he'd been doing, moving back and forth with her gaze glued to the ground. About twenty minutes in, her neck and back were getting sore. She paused, straightening so she could stretch before moving on.

"Got something over here," Joel called. "Bring that camera over here."

She turned around to see him on the far side of the ledge. After she snapped a couple pictures of a hiking boot imprint in the dirt, she followed Joel as he tracked the trail down the mountain.

She realized they weren't far from where the cougar had disappeared when he straightened and drew his gun. The sight of the weapon made her tense, and then he gave a terse order for her to stay right at his back.

Didn't need to tell her twice.

She'd thought the cougar sighting was an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime experience, but had she been alone, she'd have been scared out of her mind. Joel's protection, gruff though it was, was more than welcome, especially since they were heading into the lion's den, so to speak.

He came to a stop, gun ready in front of him. "The carcass is up ahead. Cougars are known to stay with a big kill and feed for several days, so keep a sharp eye out for him."

"Okay." Her nose wrinkled as the smell of decomposing flesh began to register.

"I'm going to need your camera."

"It's not your standard point and shoot."

"I'm familiar with DSLR."

She handed the camera over without taking her eyes off the wilderness around them. Her heart raced at the thought of the lethal cat stalking them from the shadows. "If he just ate, it's not likely he'd attack, is it?"

"He may decide to defend what's his. I don't like this either, but I just need to verify the kill, get a few pictures, and then we're outta here."

"Sounds good."

"Cougars are the opposite of a bear, so if you do spot him, be big, be loud. Look him in the eye and yell."

The hairs on her arm stood on end. "Got it. Now hurry up."

She followed Joel toward the site, but faced away from him to watch their backs. His muttered curse made her pulse skip a beat. She sidled closer until her leg brushed against him, suddenly needing physical contact for reassurance. "What?"

"Head's gone."

One glance over his shoulder and she wished she hadn't looked. He'd cleared the debris the cougar had raked over the kill to lay claim, and though the cat had clearly feasted on the carcass, it was obvious the animal's head had been cut off. Her stomach churned, and she returned her attention to the forest as Joel began taking pictures.

"Judging by the smell, it's at least a couple days old. The cat eating on it may have sped up the rate of decomp, so it's hard to know for sure."

"So, the tracks on the trail were probably the poacher's. He knows about the meadow."

Joel didn't confirm or deny. A minute later, he finished with the photos and rose to his full height. "This is going to have to do. Let's get out of here."

She happily followed him back to the overnight camp, then found herself constantly looking over her shoulder as they completed the work necessary to get the site ready for ranch guests. She wasn't sure if she expected to see the cougar or the poacher, but both were equally unnerving.

By early afternoon, they were able to pack up the horses and head back to Highlands. During the ride, she kept seeing the bloody, headless sheep in her mind. Her usual pristine Rocky Mountains had received an ugly stain, and she really hoped Joel caught the sonofabitch soon.

_And then he'll move on._

The dismay that accompanied the thought confirmed she'd better tread carefully.

They reached the trailhead near sunset, and she pulled her horse to a stop when Joel rode past his truck and trailer. "I'll be fine from here, it's only about three miles to the ranch."

"I need the photos off your camera, and I want to talk to Mark."

"Mark won't be there, so just take my SD card with you. I can stop by the station to pick it up tomorrow when I'm in town." The less time in his company, the better.

"Is Fuller working today?"

"Yeah, but he's probably gone by now. If it's about the investigation, you can tell me and I can—"

"No and no. Let's go."

She clamped her mouth shut and urged Paelo into a trot until they reached the barn. It was dark by then, just after eight-thirty, and she was surprised to see light spilling from the office window. Casey stepped out into the barn aisle as she led her stallion to a stall.

"Hey, Sunshine, everything go okay?" His voice was casual, but with his pointed glance outside where Joel was tying his horse to the hitching rail, Britt understood what he didn't ask out loud. Understood and avoided.

"The trail's all clear," she said. "What are you still doing here?"

"Waiting for you."

She jerked her chin toward the door behind him. "Well, good thing, because Joel needs to talk to you."

Joel had entered the barn and Casey gave a dismissive wave toward the office. "I'll be right there."

When he turned back to her, Britt set her camera bag outside the stall before pulling the saddle from Paelo's back.

"Anything worth shooting up there?"

_Really?_ She shoved the saddle into his arms, eyebrows raised as she jerked her own pointed glance toward the open office door Joel had just passed through. He would read so much more into that specifically worded question than Casey could imagine.

His answering shrug said he knew and didn't care.

Bet he'd care if he knew what they'd found.

He held out his hand for the bridle and she passed it over. To get rid of the disturbing image of the bighorn sheep, she told Casey, "We saw a cougar."

His brown eyes went wide. "No way."

"Yes."

"Oh, man, tell me you got some of that."

She nodded. "Wait until you see the pictures. It was awesome."

Joel appeared in the doorway. His frowning head shake wiped her grin away, and she quickly grabbed a brush. "But I can finish telling you this later. Joel's waiting."

"All right. And hey, Jayne and Gina are at the bar, come join us when you're done." He left her saddle in the tack room, then swung the door closed as he entered the office. The latch didn't catch all the way and she easily heard his brusque, "What can I do for you, Morgan?"

"For starters, someone needs to make sure Brittany starts listening to my instructions."

"I vote you," Casey quipped.

Her hand froze mid-stroke against Paelo's ebony hide.

"This isn't a game," Joel snapped. "Poachers aside, we're damn lucky that cougar didn't attack. She seems to make a habit of going off by herself, and it's not safe right now."

She quietly latched the stall and moved closer to the door as Casey spoke again.

"I'll remind her, but as you've figured out, she's got a mind of her own. Was that it?"

"Not quite." Irritation colored the ranger's voice. "How'd you know about that meadow up there?"

"The one above camp? Britt and I found it one summer when we went for a hike. Four years ago, I think."

"Who else knows about it?"

"I have no idea. I wouldn't think many do other than the rangers, and the chopper pilots. That area of the park has limited public access and it's not marked on the hiker's map. I've taken my wife up there a time or two, but other than that we don't advertize it or take guests up there."

"Let's keep it that way."

"Sure."

After a pause, she heard Joel ask, "And you haven't been up there in the past week?"

The question was casual, but she knew Casey would connect the dots pretty quick. "If I had, Mark wouldn't have sent Britt and Mitch, would he?"

"You got a time card or something I can verify?"

Silence, a rustling of paper, and then a loud bang that made her jump.

"Let me tell you, Morgan, I grew up here and I resent your implication that I'm involved in something that's destroying part of our national park. My home. I thought you were just trying to scare me with your little threat the other night, but suddenly I realize you're serious."

"Of course I'm serious. It's my job."

"No, it's _mine_ ," Casey ground out. "I applied for an opening in the park just before you came. Ryan told me the job was mine, but then you showed up and suddenly the position is filled and they don't have money in the budget for a full time ranger _and_ a hot shot investigator."

"I'm only here temporarily."

"Believe me, you wouldn't find anyone happier than me if you caught the bastard tomorrow and left the next day."

"Good to know."

The lowered intensity of Joel's voice appeared to signal an end to their mutual hostility. Britt realized how intently she was eavesdropping and returned to the stall to finish taking care of her horse.

During the next ten minutes, occasional laughter interrupted the low drone of male voices from the office. Just like that and they're friends? Wow, talk about a slap in the face. Her jaw clenched tight as she stepped into the aisle, swung the door closed and rammed the bolt home.

The scrape of a chair reached her ears, then the office door swung open on Casey's invitation for Joel to join them for a drink.

She stooped for her camera bag as he replied, "I can stay for one beer."

Her heart thudded and a tingle surged through her nerve ends. Damn it. Where the hell was the line when she needed it?

"All done?" Casey asked as he flipped off the office light.

"Yes. But I'm pretty tired, so I think I'm going to pass on the bar tonight. Tell the girls I'll see them tomorrow."

"Aw, come on, it's still early."

She shook her head with an apologetic smile as they stepped outside. While he locked up, she removed the SD card from her camera and extended it to Joel without meeting his gaze. "Here. I'll stop by the station to pick this up tomorrow."

Casey gave him a light slap on the back as he walked past. "I'll see you over there."

She tracked his progress with a narrowed gaze, then shifted her attention back to Joel, who hadn't taken the card yet. The overhead light cast his face in shadow. Dark stubble on his jaw added to the effect, making it hard to gauge his mood as he stood next to where Nobel waited patiently at the hitching rail.

She waggled her hand impatiently. "You want the pictures or not?"

He finally reached for the little card and his fingers brushed hers, supercharging the tingle of anticipation lingering throughout her body.

Pulling her hand away, she funneled her frustration into her words. "I don't appreciate you telling Casey to babysit me."

"You heard that."

"Of course I heard that. I heard you the first time up at camp, so what's the point of saying something to him?"

"Because, while you hear what I say, you don't seem to listen very well." He slipped the media card into the front pocket of his faded jeans. "I highly suggest you _listen_ to this: either you follow my rules, or I'll revoke Highland's riding access."

After what she'd seen, she had no intentions of camping alone until the guy was caught, but his threat caught her off guard. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"That's blackmail."

His gaze held steady on hers. "Whatever it takes."

"Why do you even care? It's not like we're friends." Oh, God, why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut?

"My duty is not only to protect the animals in the park, but people as well."

So, she was nothing but duty. Great. At least _he_ had no trouble locating the stupid little imaginary line. She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat and tried to come up with a reply to show she didn't give a damn how he categorized her.

Something shifted in his eyes. Light seemed to collect in the gold flecks around his irises. They softened—no, _heated_.

He took a step closer. "You really want to know why we can't be friends, Brittany?"

She wanted to say no, but her voice wouldn't work. Wanted to back up, but her feet wouldn't move. His voice had lowered to a sensual, mesmerizing pitch that held her rooted to the spot while he closed the remaining distance between them.

"You are frustrating as all hell and drive me nuts."

Nothing like the truth to break the spell. Now she could move. Except when she took a step backward, the hitching rail brought her up short. Next thing she knew, Joel had braced a hand on either side of her, caging her in the circle of his arms.

"You don't like me. Fine, I get it."

"Do you?" he asked softly. "Really?"

She thought she did—until he leaned in as if he was going to kiss her.

"Yes," she said quickly, wishing her voice hadn't come out so breathless. As if she wanted his mouth on hers. She raised her hands between them, but hesitated to press her palms against the soft cotton covering his muscled chest. "The feeling's mutual, by the way. And I don't want to be friends anymore, anyway."

The barest hint of a smile curved his lips. "Good."

Then he brought his hands to her face, threaded his fingers in her hair, and tilted her head for a full-on, passion-infused kiss that scrambled her brain and left her aching for all of him. Confusion was incinerated by desire and any thought of resisting went up in smoke.

She wound her arms around his neck, reveling in the hot glide of his tongue against hers. He lowered one arm to slip beneath her unzipped jacket and drew her tight against the hard length of his body. Even with the layers of clothing between them, his heat warmed her to the core. He smelled like the mountains, and tasted better than her favorite chocolate dessert. Yes, kissing him was definitely better than dessert.

Their labored breath sounded extraordinarily loud in the quiet night, joined only by the soft nicker of a horse directly to her left. _Nobel._ Joel pulled back just enough to lean his forehead against hers, one hand still cupping the back of her neck. She opened her eyes to see his were still closed.

"Maybe that wasn't such a good idea," he whispered.

For a moment, they simply breathed. Quick, shallow breaths barely filled her oxygen-starved lungs. Her inhale matched his exhale, moving their bodies together as one as she contemplated his statement. His grip tightened on her neck and he dipped down for one last, too-brief taste. This time, when he pulled away, she lost the heat of his entire body.

All he said before he swung into the saddle was, "Tell Fuller I changed my mind."

Britt raised a hand to her throbbing lips as he rode off into the night.

Good God that man could kiss. He made her forget everything except what she felt at the exact moment his mouth was on hers.

Unfortunately, he was right—it hadn't been a good idea at all. Because like each of his kisses, all it did was leave her wanting another.

She took a couple deep breaths, willing her pulse to return to normal. Two steps toward the parking lot, she remembered her camera. When she turned around to search for the bag, she saw the glow of a cigarette in the dark, near the side of the barn.

Her stride faltered. Her heart lodged in her throat. A picture of the dead, bloody sheep flashed in her head. "W-who's there?"

The cigarette arched through the air to land on the ground. A booted foot distinguished the glowing ember before Kelly Stevens stepped into the meager light cast from the bulb outside the barn door behind her. Her apprehension did not ease at the sight of his tall form.

"What are you doing here?"

He bent to snag the strap of her camera bag from the ground. "Saw you ride in earlier, that's all."

Meaning he'd been standing there the whole time. Listening. Watching.

When she realized he'd seen Joel kiss her, her stomach flipped over, until she reminded herself she owed him no explanation.

Lifting her chin, she forced herself to step forward to take the bag from his outstretched hand. Then she walked backward as she said, "I'd suggest you pick up your garbage, you know Mark doesn't allow smoking by the barns."

She waited only long enough to see him pick up his cigarette butt, then swung around and didn't slow her stride until she reached her truck. Kelly Stevens seriously gave her the creeps.

## Chapter 17

Joel sat in his office and tried not to watch the clock. Tried not to look up every time he heard the outer door open. It was a Sunday, for crissakes. He should have taken the day off, not spent the whole day sitting at the station, waiting for her to show up.

Thinking about that kiss.

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea_ was the frickin' understatement of his life.

The taste and feel of Brittany in his arms had kept him up half the night. He'd finally fallen asleep about three, only to wake up from the most vivid dream, aching and hard as if he were still a teenager anticipating losing his virginity.

Now he sat there imagining he could smell the faint scent of apples while he snooped through the photos on her SD card. He needed to get her out of his head, not study pictures that had absolutely nothing to do with his case. With effort, he turned his attention to the investigation files in front of him.

Based on the time cards and schedules, there had been no rangers in the area of Highlands' camp anytime during the past week. He debated reassigning a couple patrols to cover the area, hoping at some point any one of them would catch a lucky break that would help his case. Studying the topographical map of the entire park and the surrounding national forests hanging behind his desk, he sighed while running a hand through his hair.

There was a lot of land and not nearly enough men to cover it all. As Casey had pointed out, the budget didn't allow for extra rangers, and the ones they had were already pulling double duty. As he assessed how to rearrange the patrols, Casey's other comment echoed in his head, about rangers and chopper pilots probably being the few people who might know about the alpine meadow. He didn't want to consider the killer could be a fellow ranger, but it wouldn't be the first time.

_Hmm_. He skimmed the sheets in front of him again. Casey's schedule had checked out not only with the timeline for this last kill, but the previous two as well. As much as he'd made an issue of not discounting anyone, after their conversation last night, he truly believed he could trust the guy and no longer considered him a suspect.

A brief knock at his open door made his heart skip a beat until he jerked his head up to see Randy Gifford standing there holding a steaming cup in each hand.

"Benson just made a fresh pot of coffee, you want some?"

"Sure, thanks."

_Get a grip._ He scrubbed his hands over his face, then took the cup Randy handed across the desk. "What are you doing here?" Gifford had been off the past week for a family graduation in the southern part of the state. He wasn't due in until the Monday morning shift.

"Checking the schedule for the week." The ranger's gaze took in the mess of files crisscrossing the flat surface, then nodded toward Joel's laptop. One of the pictures from yesterday morning was open on the screen. "What's that?"

He spun the computer, then sat back in his chair to take a sip of coffee. "New kill up near Storm Pass. Not much to help out though. A mountain lion had been feeding on it for a couple days by the time we discovered it. Never found the spot where the shot was taken."

Randy scrolled through the pictures, his keen gaze taking in details. He shot Joel a quick glance. "We?"

"Brittany Lucas from Highlands Sunset Ranch. You know her?"

"Yeah, I know Britt."

Randy frowned as he took a seat, but Joel wasn't sure if it was because of the picture on the computer, or the woman.

"What were you two doing up there?" he asked.

"Scouting their overnight trail before the season starts."

"I'm surprised Ryan doesn't shut them down."

Joel sat forward and set his cup to the side so he could start sorting out the mess he'd made during the morning hours. "I thought the same thing at first, but now, it might be good to keep the area active. It might keep this guy on his toes."

"Their rides are all pre-scheduled," Randy pointed out. "A simple call and he'd know if the coast was clear."

"True. But I was considering asking Casey Fuller to do some extra scouting during the week. What's your take on him?"

"I've known Casey since high school. He's a good guy. Honest as they come. It's a good idea putting him on the trail."

Joel nodded as he piled his files together. "Good. Because I want to catch this bastard."

"Anything else new since I left?"

"No. It feels like I've been over these files a hundred times." Joel picked up a photo of one of the first animals he'd found and stared at it, willing a clue to reveal itself. "He's going to slip up though. Sooner or later, they always do."

"That's what they say." Randy's large hand rubbed the whiskers on his jaw. "So...you mind me asking what's going on with you and Britt?"

The question caught him off guard. Along with the answer. _Yes_. He minded, because he didn't have a clue himself.

He kept his attention on the files in front of him. "What makes you think anything's going on?"

Randy laughed and sat forward, eyebrows raised. "Besides the fact you didn't just deny it, more than a few people saw you two at the Watering Hole last weekend. Now you're camping together?"

He braced his forearms on the desk and met the other man's gaze. "Something came up on Mitch Levin's background check and Mark Jennings needed someone to ride with her. Anything else is our business, not yours."

Speculation remained in Randy's eyes, and something more he couldn't quite put his finger on as the ranger got to his feet.

"Britt and I are good friends. She avoids relationships out here because she's not sticking around, and neither are you. Casual sex isn't her thing, so whatever's going on, don't hurt her."

He stared at the empty doorway after Randy's parting warning. Brittany Lucas seemed to be friends with everyone and involved with no one. Is that why she'd wanted to be friends with him?

Definitely the smarter idea, so why didn't he like it one bit?

By the time he left the station for his temporary apartment later that evening, his only answer to that question was that he was an idiot.

He detoured on his way home to stop at the Watering Hole for dinner. The bar was obviously a favorite among the locals, because he not only recognized Gifford's truck, but Fuller's as well. His pulse picked up speed at the possibility that Brittany could be inside.

_Yep. Idiot._

Refusing to look for her vehicle, he forced himself to reach for the door. No more than he stepped inside the dim entrance, one of the wranglers from Highlands Ranch almost bumped into him. His murmured, "Excuse me," was met with a scowl before the guy shoved outside.

Joel turned to watch him go, searching his memory for a name. _Kelly Stevens_. Worked at a neighboring ranch last summer. Nothing else on his background check stood out.

The door closed, so he turned back toward the bar, then lost a step as laughter erupted from a table to his left. Though her back was to him where she sat at a table with her friends, he easily recognized those long, blond curls.

Casey lifted a hand in greeting, causing most of the table to turn and look his way, including Randy, and Brittany.

Her gaze met his for a moment, then bounced away as she spun back around. Randy leaned in and said something to her, causing those curls to sway as she shook her head. When he glimpsed the smile she flashed at the ranger, his annoyance at having wasted an entire day waiting on her surged forward. He switched direction and headed their way.

Casey's gaze clearly met hers across the table, then lifted back to Joel. She stiffened in her chair as he stopped directly behind her.

"Hey, man, what happened to you last night?"

"I had to get going. Didn't Brittany tell you?" He shifted to the side of her chair so he could at least see her profile.

"Britt didn't—"

"I went home," she stated. She twisted in her seat and hooked an arm on the back of her chair to glare up at Joel. "You knew I wasn't planning to go over to the bar, so you should've relayed your own message."

Was she upset about last night's kiss? Hm, he hadn't considered that. "I figured once I left, your reason for not going would be gone as well."

Rising color in her face said he'd hit the bulls-eye, but she was quick to deny it in front of her friends. "I had decided not to go because I was tired."

He braced one hand on the back of her chair and leaned closer. She inched back, eyes wide on his, but all he did was reach to grab a French fry off her plate and straighten again. Aware of everyone listening to their exchange, especially Randy, he asked, "So you weren't avoiding me? Last night, or today at the ranger station?"

"I didn't go to the station today."

"Exactly." He popped the fry in his mouth.

"What possible reason would I have to avoid you?"

While he chewed and swallowed, her flashing eyes dared him to say exactly what he was thinking. He considered giving everyone a demonstration instead. His gaze dropped to her mouth and his suddenly erratic pulse changed the response on the tip of his tongue as he met her eyes once more. "You tell me."

"There isn't one," she insisted. Then she indicated an open chair on the other side of the table between Casey and some preppy looking guy he'd never seen before. "In fact, why don't you join us now? Have a beer. Order some of your _own_ food."

Casey nodded with a grin. "Definitely. Come on, have a seat."

"Don't mind if I do." He reached back, grabbed a chair behind him, and plunked it down between Brittany and the cute brunette on his left. "Excuse me, do you mind sliding over just a bit?"

She gave him a polite smile, shot a glance at Brittany, then scooted over.

"Thanks. I'm Joel Morgan, by the way."

"Gina Allen." She accepted his quick handshake.

He flagged the passing waitress, ordered a beer and a burger, then relaxed back in his chair while letting his knee brush against Brittany's beneath the table. She shifted just enough to break contact. He caught her glance from the corner of his eye, allowed a small, triumphant smile, then felt her leg bump against his again, and stay.

She'd risen to the challenge. In the next moment, her body heat transferred through the material of both their jeans and memories of warm, soft curves pressed tight against his chest began to mess with his head.

_Shoulda thought that move through better_.

Casey provided a distraction by introducing his wife, Jayne, and Gina's boyfriend, Jackson. Joel murmured a thanks to the waitress when she brought his beer, and took note of the guy's brief smile that morphed back into a bored expression as he lifted his wine glass for a drink. He was pretty sure the sweater was cashmere, and the glass looked as out of place in the relaxed country bar as the guy did.

Brittany, on the other hand, fit in perfectly in her snug V-neck black sweater, jeans, wide brown belt and scuffed brown cowboy boots. All around girl-next-door appeal with a heady dose of sexiness in the emerald pendant resting just above the tease of cleavage revealed by her top.

He and Randy exchanged greetings, then Casey drew the ranger into a conversation that turned him away from Britt. Joel sipped his beer, tilted his head toward her, and pitched his voice low. "You didn't come by for your card."

She'd just taken a bite of a ranch-dipped chicken strip and wiped her mouth while she finished chewing. "Busy day."

"On a Sunday?"

"Yes, on a Sunday."

He reached for another of her fries and she slapped his hand. But not before he secured one. As he ate it with a grin, she turned her head to glare at him. Even when annoyed, her eyes were prettier than the emerald she wore.

"I waited for you."

She blinked and looked back at her food. Her leg moved again, and he immediately missed her heat. After taking a drink from her water glass, she set it back down. "All day?"

"Pretty much."

"Good."

The waitress arrived with his burger and fries. Joel sat forward to reach for the ketchup, unsure how to respond to Brittany's one word statement. _Good_. What did that mean? And why the hell had he even told her he'd waited in the first place? He certainly didn't want her thinking that kiss last night had meant anything to him.

_She doesn't do casual sex._ That's all he could offer.

Now what?

Jayne drew her attention with a question, so he concentrated on his plate and listened to the conversations around him. Halfway through the burger, he turned back to Gina. "Do you work at Highlands, too?"

"I used to."

"As a wrangler?" She didn't strike him as the type to work with horses, with her manicured nails and light complexion that clearly didn't see much sun.

She confirmed his suspicions with a laugh. "God no. I worked in the Sports Center for four summers. I stocked towels, rented equipment, took guests on sunset van tours into the park, that kind of stuff. After college, I opened my own interior design business here in Estes."

"How's that going?"

"It's starting to pick up." A tentative smile curved her lips. "Need any decorating work done?"

He shook his head at the hopeful look in her unusual violet-tinged eyes and gave her an apologetic smile. "The apartment supplied by the park is already furnished, and I'm not going to be here long enough to really care what it looks like anyway."

## Chapter 18

Britt heard Joel's words and forced herself not to react as she finished her food and tossed her napkin in the wax paper lined basket. It was a good reminder—him not sticking around—because everything about the man had been wreaking havoc with her senses since the moment he walked into the bar. He wore black again, and it reminded her how powerful and dangerous he could appear. A picture of him by her tent with his gun flashed in her mind.

A force to be reckoned with.

The dark clothing also completely enhanced his good looks to the point it should be a crime. With his dark eyebrows and those thick lashes, she had to fight to keep from staring too long into those gorgeous, gold-flecked eyes. Every so often, she'd catch a hint of his aftershave, or cologne. The musky, woodsy scent was subtle, yet extremely effective in torturing the butterflies in her stomach. Made it so very tempting to lean closer.

Definitely a force to be reckoned with.

Kissing the man had been such a bad idea, and the anger had come later, while she was lying in bed, dealing with the aftermath of a lingering desire that refused to let her sleep.

His actions were so contrary she didn't know what to think anymore. He kissed her, left her without so much as a goodnight, then accused her of avoiding him and admitted he'd waited for her at the ranger station.

What the hell did he expect from her?

Jackson tossed a couple twenties on the table next to their bill, then gave Gina a pointed glance and stood. Joel shifted to give her room to rise and his leg brushed Britt's beneath the table again. This time, she was sure it wasn't on purpose, yet an instant jolt of awareness had her asking herself the question she'd been avoiding since last night—what was she willing to give him?

"I guess we're going to head out now," Gina said. "I'm working in Denver for a couple days, Britt, so I'll be staying at Jackson's."

"Sounds good." She shifted her gaze. "It was nice to meet you, Jackson."

The computer programmer barely offered a nod to her and the others before ushering Gina toward the door. Her friend tossed an apologetic smile over her shoulder and Britt grinned to let her know all was fine. Once they were gone, she let her frown free.

"Friendly guy," Joel commented with more than a little sarcasm.

Across the table, Jayne made a face. "You'd think he'd at least try to join in the conversation instead of sitting there looking bored."

Gina's parents had introduced the two, probably hoping he could talk her back into the programming world she'd gone to college for and then turned her back on to follow her dreams. Britt wondered if she stuck it out with the guy in deference to them, or did she really have feelings for him? Either way, she hoped Gina stayed true to her heart.

The truth of that thought hit hard and started her own heart pounding. Maybe that's what she should consider doing.

"We need to get going, too," Casey said with a glance at his watch. "The movie starts in twenty minutes."

"Any of you guys want to come with?" Jayne invited.

Beside her, Randy pulled out his wallet. "What do you say, Britt? You got plans?"

She couldn't help a glance at Joel. He met her gaze over the rim of his glass as he drained the remainder of his beer. Something indefinable in those eyes kept her pulse tripping at its elevated clip. After setting the empty glass down, he got to his feet and set a twenty on his bill. "Thanks for the company. Nice to meet you, Jayne. You all have a good night."

Disappointment crowded in as he turned away. Without giving herself a chance to think of the wisdom of her actions, she said, "Joel. Can you wait a minute?"

He stopped and faced them again. His gaze shifted from her to Randy and back, reminding her about the movie. She got up and pushed her chair in before resting a hand on Randy's shoulder. "I'm going to pass on the movie, but thanks anyway. Have fun and I'll see you at work tomorrow, Case."

Muscles bunched beneath her palm, and she withdrew her hand when Randy rose to his feet. "I should probably get some things done at home. See you guys later." He inclined his head. "Joel."

He nodded back as Randy turned to leave after Casey and Jayne. Once they were gone, Britt took a deep breath and looked up at Joel. She wasn't exactly sure why she'd asked him to wait, so she seized on the only excuse she could think of.

"Did you bring my SD card with you?"

He slipped his hands into his front pockets and hunched his shoulders. "It's at my apartment."

"Oh."

"You're welcome to follow me and pick it up."

The offer, in that low voice of his, started her pulse skipping along again. "Um..."

"I've got ice cream."

His persuasive smile sparked her own. "What kind?"

"Caramel fudge swirl."

"Caramel _and_ fudge, can't say no to that."

He motioned toward the door with his head. "After you."

They parted ways in the parking lot, then she followed him through Estes Park, wondering what the heck she was doing.

_You know exactly what you're doing._

She sucked in a shaky breath and blew it back out slowly. True.

Joel pulled into the driveway of a duplex, and she parked her truck curbside on the street. She ducked her head to peer across the passenger seat. After another deep breath, she stepped out and crossed the driveway to the door he held open for her.

"Have a seat. I'll be right back."

He directed her to the living room and continued toward the back, to the kitchen, she assumed. Her nerves were too on edge to sit calmly and wait, so she remained standing by the couch. For some reason, she'd expected more of a bachelor pad, with dark furniture and maybe some wildlife pictures—not the generic flower prints and light, neutral furniture. It reflected none of his dynamic personality.

The only signs of him were a jacket slung over a chair, and a pair of hiking boots by the door next to a backpack. There were no personal pictures, no magazines on the coffee table, not even any mail lying around.

Hard core reality dawned with more impact than she'd expected, even though she was, as he put it, well aware of the score. He never stayed in one place longer than he was needed. He would catch the bad guys here, then take off after the next ones somewhere else. Of course he wouldn't carry a lot of stuff with him from place to place.

She sat down and rubbed her damp palms on the legs of her jeans as he returned from the kitchen with a bowl in each hand. He handed one over, then sat beside her on the couch. Close enough for his leg to brush hers and keep that awareness at a hyper-sensitive level.

With her first bite of the creamy dessert, vanilla, caramel and fudge melted on her tongue. She closed her eyes to savor the flavor with a low, " _Mmm_."

Silence in the room brought her eyes open again. Joel pulled the spoon from his mouth, his heated gaze locked on her lips.

She quickly swept her spoon in an arc to encompass the room, then scooped up another bite. "You don't have any pictures of your family."

"My life doesn't allow for clutter."

She paused, the ice cream halfway to her mouth. "You consider your family clutter?"

"I didn't mean it that way. There's just my dad, and my picture of him is right here." He tapped his head with his forefinger. "When I said clutter, I meant literally. I don't have the time to pack and unpack pictures or sentimental objects because I never know if I'll be someplace a few days, a week, a month. But I guess it would apply figuratively as well."

_Fair warning_.

She struggled to keep a frown from her forehead. "Precisely my reason for not dating here. Makes no sense when I don't plan to stay."

"I don't get that."

"Why? It's no different than you."

"I mean, why not stay? I saw how much you love the mountains when we were up at the overnight camp."

"I do," she confirmed with a soft sigh. "But it's more complicated than that."

"Your father." He shifted and drew up one leg so that he faced her.

"Yes, my father." She leaned her shoulder against the back of the couch and mirrored his pose. "He's been planning on me taking a place at his side since high school."

"Those high expectations you mentioned. Double major, honors graduate, take over the company someday."

Her smile bloomed, then faded at his perceptiveness.

"Do you want to work with him?"

"It would be challenging, that's for sure." For more reasons than one.

"Doesn't answer my question."

"Six weeks ago, I knew exactly what I wanted."

He set his spoon in the bowl and set the bowl on the coffee table. "What changed?"

Her ice cream was melting. She held onto it though, staring down into the dark swirl of chocolate through the vanilla. "My fiancé cheated on me. My father still promoted him."

"Sounds like a sonofabitch."

She laughed at that. "Which one?"

"Both of 'em." He leaned forward and laid his hand on her knee. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks. Mark's wife is on bed rest to avoid a third miscarriage, so that's the reason I gave my father for my being here. It _is_ the main reason I'm here, to give Mark time off this summer, but I also needed to get away from the whole situation—from him. Daniel's betrayal hurt less than my father not standing up for me."

Saying it out loud brought on a sudden sting of tears. She quickly rose to carry her bowl into the kitchen. Joel's footsteps sounded behind her. He set his dish next to hers before sliding his hand over the counter to grasp hers.

She kept her back to him as the unexpected pain mushroomed. "I'm his daughter," she choked out. "I'm supposed to matter more than anything else, you know?"

"I do know. More than you know," he whispered.

His hand tightened on hers. Threading their fingers together, he moved in close and his strong arms wrapped her in a tight embrace. She leaned back into his warmth, savoring the comfort he offered as she wiped the tears that'd spilled over.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he admonished. "You deserve better."

She agreed. Joel's declaration that her father was a sonofabitch opened her eyes. Of course, her mother had already told her the same thing, but it held a little more weight coming from someone who hadn't resented him for the past fifteen years.

She became aware of his chin resting on her shoulder, the light prick of his whiskers against her neck. Beneath his forearm, her heart rate picked up speed, and she felt his do the same against her back.

Joel might not offer her more than a few weeks—or even past tonight, but maybe that was just what she needed. A man who was completely up front with her.

No expectations.

No lies.

No disappointment.

She closed her eyes and turned her head toward his. "I know what I want. For tonight, anyway."

## Chapter 19

The husky words seared through Joel, igniting the banked fire in his veins. The past half-hour had been torture. After each spoonful of dessert, she'd licked her lips. And each time he saw her tongue, he'd felt a thread of his control unravel. She drove him crazy with an act as simple as eating ice cream. He prayed to God she would finish, and in the next instant thought of offering her more.

Until her father entered the conversation. What a bastard.

On an emotional level, he completely understood her pain. Physically, her tears had put an ache in his chest, something he'd never experienced before. Just as unfamiliar, the need to comfort.

And now, suddenly she turned in his arms and pressed her lips to his, her mouth hot, eager. A second of surprise was instantly overridden by a desire that had been put on simmer for far too long. He buried one hand in her hair and wrapped the other arm about her waist to pull her close.

Seconds later, she dragged his shirt from the waistband of his jeans, then wedged her arms between them. Unsteady fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.

He lifted his hands to clasp hers. "Slow down."

She didn't listen.

Despite the need pulsing through him, something wasn't sitting right, and he offered a second half-hearted protest. "This might not be such a good idea."

She pulled her hands from his and wound her arms around his neck. "It's the best idea I've had all day."

_Me, too_.

Except she'd specifically said she didn't do benefits. More than once. So what was the sudden turn around about?

_Why the hell are you_ thinking _right now?_

The answer hit him, and he groaned in frustration. The sound vibrated from deep in his throat, and he felt her smile against his mouth. Her tongue slid against his, drawing him in, seducing him with the promise of heaven to come.

With her plastered against him, he almost forgot about everything else. She felt right in his arms. Not just good, or even amazing, but _right._

Like he could keep her there forever.

His heart thumped hard. He broke the kiss and tried to suck air into lungs that refused to let any in. She was still too close. He couldn't think straight with her soft breasts pressed to his chest, her hips practically cradling his straining erection. The need to bury himself in her heat had him spinning them both around to pin her against the counter.

She held on as he devoured her mouth. Tasting, sucking, delving so deep the pressure in his groin built to unbearable level. He ground his hips against hers and her soft moan filled his mouth.

God, what was he doing?

He reached up to grab her wrists, then dragged her arms down from around his neck.

Confusion clouded her eyes. "What?"

"Clutter."

"What?"

He cleared his throat and went for more than one word. "I told you, my life doesn't allow for clutter."

She stiffened and leaned back. The movement bent her slightly over the counter and put her hips back into contact with his. He jerked as if poked with a branding iron.

"I was kissing you Joel, not asking you to marry me."

"But you don't do casual."

Her gaze dropped to his chest, and she lifted a shoulder. "Maybe I changed my mind. What's the problem as long as we both know the score?"

His own words slapped him in the face. Hearing them in her voice made them sound callus and uncaring. This time, he cared. With _her_ , he cared about the fact they'd go their separate ways. He cared that she was hurting and thought this was a way to feel better. He cared that he'd only end up causing her more pain.

"You deserve better," he repeated.

She eased in closer. "I don't need you to be all chivalrous right now."

He steeled his resolve against the plea in her eyes. "Yes you do. You just don't know it."

Her eyebrows drew together. "Like you know what's best for me?"

"In this case, yes."

She shoved against his chest and he moved back to give her space. Give himself space.

"You're thinking with your heart right now, Brittany. Trying to ease the pain caused by your father's and fiancé's betrayal. Trust me, you'll regret it in the morning."

She stared him right in the eye and shook her head. Jaw clenched, she stalked past him to yank open the front door. "I regret coming here _right now_."

He followed her outside but didn't try to stop her. If she stayed, they'd end up right where he'd expected when he lied about the SD card in his pocket and she'd accepted his offer to come over. Before he had an attack of conscience.

As she rounded the front of her vehicle to yank the driver's side door open, he caught sight of the passenger side.

"Whoa." He backtracked a couple steps to get a better look at her truck. "What happened here?"

"What?" she snapped.

Two scratches marred the shiny black paint, running the entire length of her passenger door and truck bed. "Your truck's been keyed." He glanced up to see her frown. "You didn't see this?"

"No." She slammed her door shut again and joined him on the passenger side as he fingered the deep scratches. Her surprise was quickly followed by anger as she stared at the vandalism. "Well isn't this great. It must've just happened, because I gave Casey a ride to The Watering Hole and he'd have said something."

"So either in the parking lot or here."

She looked back and forth along the sidewalk of the quiet neighborhood. "I'm guessing the lot. There were a group of kids skateboarding when I first got there."

"I'll call and see if there are any outdoor security cameras at the bar. We might see who did it."

" _I'll_ talk to Billy," she stated as she headed back to the driver's side.

"You should also file a police report so you have a statement for your insurance," he advised as he trailed after her. "I can come with you if you'd like?"

She spun around as he reached for her door. Mere inches apart, she sucked in a breath and reared back against the truck. Fire flared in her eyes, threatening to reignite his banked desire. A hard swallow kept him from closing the distance between them as he pulled open the door.

"Thanks, but I'm a big girl." She climbed into the cab, then leaned to brace her hand on the inside door handle while looking him straight in the eye. "Perfectly capable of making my own decisions and taking care of myself."

The door was yanked from his hand as she slammed it and drove away.

He watched her taillights in the deepening dusk, hands stuffed in his pockets. His fingers curled around the media card in his right one. Guess tomorrow he'd get a chance to see if a night to think about everything softened her resentment. He also wanted to make sure she was okay. The length and depth of the scratches suggested the attack was personal, not random. It left him with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that had him dialing Billy at the Watering Hole the moment he got back inside.

Unfortunately, the bar's security cameras only covered the building entrances and windows. No other acts of vandalism had been reported, which only increased his concern.

Had she gone to the police, or stubbornly ignored the advice because she was angry with him? He hoped to God she was smarter than that.

_She is_ , he assured himself.

Later, as he stripped down before sliding between the sheets, Joel found himself thinking of _clutter_. Tonight, the word had provided a convenient excuse exactly when he'd needed it, but that didn't make it any less true. He didn't have time for anything meaningful, what with his endless days on the road.

However, staring at the ceiling in the dark, thinking of Brittany's observation that he had no personal items of meaning to surround him, he grudgingly admitted having his own place might be nice.

Somewhere to come home to.

_Someone_ to come home to.

The second thought ambushed him, along with a flash vision of blond hair, green eyes and a beautiful smile.

He jack-knifed into a sitting position on the bed and fisted his hands in his hair. _That_ was exactly the kind of thinking he needed to avoid. A place to set down roots was something to consider, but he would never allow himself to need any one person again. He'd seen firsthand how it could destroy a man even as strong as his father, and back in Alaska, it had almost happened to him.

No way in hell would he allow it to become a possibility again.

## Chapter 20

The sight of Mitch coming out of the stall next to Paelo's on Monday morning made Britt's step falter. His usual welcoming smile was nowhere to be seen as he avoided her gaze and bent to grasp the handles of the wheel barrow.

She squared her shoulders and marched over to block his way. "Why were you in prison?"

Guarded blue eyes met hers as he straightened. "Sounds like Morgan already told you."

"Only that you have a record. He said the details were on you."

"Mighty noble of him."

Yes, Joel Morgan was full of noble gestures. Her jaw tightened, but she ignored the thought and waited for Mitch to give her an answer.

He looked away, then swung his head back to face her. "I got mixed up in a gang with my cousin when I was a sixteen. At seventeen, I was arrested and charged as an adult for dealing drugs and armed robbery."

Okay, _wow_. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but certainly not that. She did her best to keep her expression impassive.

"I did my stint in jail, then got transferred to a rehab program on a ranch in California. I'm in my last year of probation."

"Is that where you learned to work with horses?"

"Yes."

"That's why you don't drink."

"Yes."

"Mark know all this?"

"We talked when I returned on Friday, and he's got my probation officer's number."

"And you're still here."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he nodded.

"Are you clean?"

"Yes." His gaze didn't waver from hers.

"All right then." She smiled and moved toward the stall door.

"That's it?"

"That's it." A glance over her shoulder caught his look of confusion to match his voice, so she faced him once more. "I respect that you've worked hard to turn your life around, and over the past three years, you haven't given me any reason to distrust you. As long as your past is in the past, then it doesn't change who you are to me."

Relief filled his expression and a ghost of his usual smile curved his lips. "Thanks. That means a lot."

Her turn to nod.

The morning flew by with most of the wranglers out on trail rides while Britt stayed back to cover for Mark until the afternoon. Keeping busy kept her mind off last night. Or it should've. Snippets of her conversation with Joel snuck in when she least expected.

_Not a good idea._

_My life doesn't allow for clutter._

_You're thinking with your heart._

_You deserve better._

Damn it—she wanted him out of her head. Didn't help that he'd been right on every single damn point.

More than once, her heart clamored for her to listen. This time for a different reason. One that had less to do with her father and more to do with that someone better she deserved. Someone who was too perceptive and unexpectedly gallant.

He wasn't supposed to make her like him more. Her head knew where they would end up once his investigation was over. It really sucked, but sometimes the head needed to look out for the heart.

And her head told her to get back to work.

She carried two saddles out to the horses lined up at the hitching rail. Jon and Mandy would be back soon and their afternoon ride had an increased guest count. A searching sweep located Kelly leaning against the side of the barn. He brought his hand up to take a long drag off a cigarette.

She set the saddles down with a thump. Mitch she didn't have a problem with; Kelly was a whole other matter. "A little help would be nice here."

"Just taking a break."

"You know there's no smoking near the barns."

"I'll pick it up."

"That's not the point. I didn't say anything to Mark the last time, but trust me, you don't want this to become an issue."

He shrugged, squinted toward the lake at the group of guests returning from a ride, and dropped the cigarette. Smoke streamed from between his pursed lips as he crushed the butt beneath his boot heel, then he looked up without barely lifting his head. "Thought you didn't date here? I saw you with that pretty-boy ranger."

Something in his tone tripped her pulse. Did he mean last night? She'd seen him at the bar, but was pretty sure he'd left shortly before Joel showed up, so how would he know they'd spent more time together?

A chill prickled along her spine as something else occurred to her. Was it possible he could've keyed her truck instead of some random kid? Would he really carry his grudge over her rejection that far?

"What I do is none of your business," she informed him coldly, refusing to be intimidated. "Don't mess with me, Kelly. One word from me and you'll be gone from here faster than you can say _'just kidding_.'"

His gaze wavered, and then he stooped to pick up his garbage. He walked away, his footsteps fading as the clip-clop of horse hooves, creaking saddle leather and guest voices took over.

Britt released the breath she hadn't even been aware she'd been holding.

With the return of the morning ride, Kelly helped get the next set of horses ready to go. She considered sending him out for the afternoon, but Jon and Mandy worked so well together. In addition to their great rapport with the guests, Britt noticed the shy smiles the two exchanged. Jon was a great guy, and Mandy a sweet girl. The cute couple was so different than the blatant flirting and obvious hook-ups between some of the other resort employees. She didn't mind assisting cupid with the budding romance, even if it meant enduring additional time in Kelly's presence.

By the time the afternoon riders were on their way around the lake in front of the resort restaurant, Casey and Mitch were returning from their extended lunch ride. Her attention was drawn to the reflection of the riders in the water with the Rockies rising majestically in the background. Come September, she was sure going to miss it all. Then all she'd have to look forward to would be Chicago traffic, factory smoke in the air, cold winds off Lake Michigan and a hectic work schedule.

City life.

_Is that what you want?_

She stiffened at the sound of Joel's voice in her head again. Determined not to listen to him, she went back into the office, leaving the guys to take care of the horses while she caught up on paperwork. About an hour later, a manager's signature was all she needed to put herself out of her misery and spend the rest of the afternoon working with Gypsy.

Armed with the paper, a clipboard and a pen, she rounded the corner in search of Casey. He was on the far end of the line of horses, giving Diesel a good rub-down while Mitch worked on Banjo next to him. Kelly walked past, leading one of the geldings toward the main corral. Colorado was one of her favorites, and she smiled when the gray horse playfully lipped at the wrangler's sleeve, caught it between his teeth and pulled. Kelly slapped his nose and Colorado jerked away.

Britt stopped to watch as the gelding reach forward again. It was a harmless game, he didn't actually bite, he just held the fabric much the same as a playful puppy. Kelly smacked him again and gave a hard jerk on the reins. The horse reared back, the whites of his eyes showing his fear.

She lunged forward and caught Kelly's arm as he raised it toward the horse again. "Stop it!" One shove got him out of the way and she secured the reins to calm the horse. "Whoa boy, easy."

"The stupid nag bit me."

She rounded on him with a glare. "He didn't bite, he was playing. He does it with everyone."

Casey had started their way, her shout having caught his attention. Mitch watched from a distance.

"That damn horse needs to be taught a lesson," Kelly grumbled.

"No, _you_ do." She ran her hand down Colorado's neck in a soothing stroke. "Mistreat the horses again and I'll not only make sure you're gone from here, but you won't find a ranch to hire you within fifty miles. This is your last warning, and you don't even deserve that."

His furious gaze bore into hers.

"What's going on?" Casey demanded as he joined them.

Britt kept her gaze on Kelly's. He dropped his toward the ground and shifted his feet. "Little misunderstanding, that's all. Won't happen again."

"Britt?"

She seemed to have gotten through to him, so she nodded at Casey. "I think Kelly and I have reached an understanding, so we're good." _For now._

He took the reins from her and led Colorado to the corral as if nothing had happened.

"You need me to talk to Mark?" Casey asked.

She crossed her arms, hugging the clipboard to her chest as she watched Kelly's retreating back before facing his concerned gaze. "Maybe. I don't know."

"What happened?"

She gave him a brief account, then handed him the clipboard to sign. "Let's just leave it for now and keep an eye on him."

Casey signed the paper, then held on when she reached for the clipboard. "I'll do that, but watch yourself around him."

"I will."

She finished putting away the paperwork just as Mark arrived for the afternoon. They talked a few minutes about how Eve was handling the bed rest, then she gathered Gypsy's tack to head out to the arena. She had the mare accustomed to the bridle, had been working her under the saddle, and now hoped to ride her.

The faint smell of smoke hit her nostrils as she passed the corner of the barn and she glanced back to see a flicker of flames in the garbage can next to the wall. She dropped the tack at her feet and took off running for the water trough.

"Fire! Casey! Mark!"

Casey jerked his head up, but it was Mitch who beat her to the trough to grab a bucket of water. By the time Mark arrived, with Kelly trailing behind from the barn, the flames were doused. Kelly began to back away before Mark even rounded on him.

"You been smoking out here?" Mark demanded of the younger man.

His accusing gaze darted to Britt. "You told him."

"No, she didn't tell me a thing." Mark gave her his own stern glance, then drilled back into Kelly. "You're the only one who smokes, and that's the only way I see this fire starting. What if no one had seen it right away? What if it had smoldered and started later when no one was around? We could've lost the whole barn and the horses inside."

Britt had never heard him so angry, and his furious words made her realize how wrong it was of her to not have told Mark right away with so much at stake.

Kelly didn't look him in the eye as he tried to defend himself. "I'm always careful."

Mark jabbed a finger toward the blackened metal can. " _This_ is not careful. And hold on... _always?_ You've smoked around here before?"

"No."

Without looking away from Kelly, Mark asked, "Britt?"

She lifted her chin as Kelly's gaze met hers. "I warned him more than once."

Casey moved up to stand at her back. "I warned him once myself."

"Pack your things," Mark ordered. "I'll have the front office cut your final check."

Kelly's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "You're kidding. It was a little garbage fire."

"That could've burned the whole barn to the ground."

"Fine, I won't smoke here anymore."

"You've had your chances, Kelly. You should've followed the rules."

"You can't fire me for this." Red-faced anger replaced his surprise. "I'll sue you for job discrimination."

"You wouldn't have a leg to stand on, and you know it. You've burnt your bridges, now get the hell out of here."

Kelly took a step toward Britt, his lips curled in disdain. Casey stepped between them and shoved the guy back. When Mitch moved forward next to Mark, she felt like she had a wall of muscle protecting her.

"Go."

He pointed his finger at her as he backed up. "Bitch. You're going to pay for this, just you wait."

## Chapter 21

Joel braced his feet and let Kelly back into him. His hand closed on the back of the guy's neck.

"What the—"

He squeezed hard but spoke low. " _What_ did you just say?"

Kelly froze.

"You even _think_ about touching her and you won't make it to tomorrow." An audible swallow sounded in the quiet. Joel tightened his grip. "Got it?"

The bastard's head jerked up and down. Joel shoved him away. He watched him scurry off before turning back toward the barn. The protective anger that'd burned through him when he heard Stevens' threat still surged high—especially considering Brittany's slim figure and average height was dwarfed by the three large men flanking her.

With her blond hair somewhat confined in a couple of messy shoulder ponytails, she looked younger and more vulnerable than ever. He was thankful they'd been there to protect her, and irrationally irritated he wasn't the one at her side. Exasperation took over as he approached and heard her protest.

"No, we do not need to call Aaron about this."

"I think calling Sheriff Thompson is a great idea," Joel stated. He'd liked Aaron Thompson from the moment they'd met about his investigation a few weeks back. The man would look after her if need be.

She whipped her head toward him and he wondered if the resentment in her eyes was a remnant from how their evening had ended, or specifically for right now.

"No one asked for your opinion."

"You got it, just the same. After last night, don't you think it's a good idea they have this on record?"

"What happened last night?" Mark demanded.

Her gaze scanned the men in front of her, then her shoulder's dropped the tiniest bit. "Someone keyed my truck at Billy's."

"You did report it, right?"

"Yes," she snapped. "But that has nothing to do with this."

"Kelly was at Billy's last night," Casey reminded.

"It was just some kids." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

Joel wasn't so sure about the kids theory. Her boss's gaze met his, and he gave a slight shake of his head.

Mark shouldered his way past the group, headed for the office. "I'm calling Aaron."

She barreled after him. "He was just mad and venting his frustration. After you guys heard his threat, he wouldn't have the guts to do anything, so why bother Aaron with it?"

Casey murmured to Mitch and they moved back toward the couple of horses standing at the hitching rail. Joel trailed after the other two and saw them face off across Mark's desk.

"I feel bad for putting you on the spot in front of him, so humor me, okay?"

She had one palm braced on the desktop, and the other holding the phone handset in its cradle. "I'm the one who should apologize. I should've told you right away."

"You should've, but that's water under the bridge. And I'm still calling Aaron because Joel's right, it's best to get it on record."

"He's not right about everything you know."

"On this I am."

She stiffened, then crossed her arms and leaned her hip against the desk as he approached. "Oh, shut up. What are you doing here, anyway?"

Truth be told, he'd wanted to convince himself she wasn't worth his restless night, but it backfired. The moment he'd seen her, incredible awareness jetted through his entire body. Judging by her expression though, it appeared one-sided, and that thoroughly annoyed him.

He knew she wasn't immune to him, but she controlled it well. He, on the other hand, felt like he couldn't control much of anything with her around.

He dug into his front pocket and held up her photo card. "Forgot this last night."

"Oh." Pink tinged her face as he dropped it onto her palm. "Thanks."

The blush was promising, so he added, "I also wanted to talk to you about last night."

She cast a glance down and to the side, clearly aware of Mark's presence. With a shake of her head, she stuffed the card in her pocket and headed for the door. "Forget it. In _that_ case, I agree one hundred percent that you were right."

_That's the frickin' problem_ , he thought as she swept outside. He'd spent most of the night coming to the realization he didn't want to be right.

"You need to talk to me, or just her?"

Joel turned around to see Mark, eyebrows raised as he held the phone in one hand while pressing down the connection switch with the other.

"Anyone booked for the Thursday overnight?"

"Nope."

"Then we're good. Go ahead and make that call."

He made his way outside and located Brittany in the arena with the crazy mustang. Only the mare didn't look so wild anymore. She accepted the bit-less hackamore, and was equally tolerant of the saddle.

Casey joined Joel on his way over to the fence.

"Things look to be going well in there," he commented to the wrangler as the mare obediently moved out on the lunge line to circle the enclosure.

"Really well, especially when you consider that first day when you were here. She's got a gift."

With more than just the horses.

They talked in low voices as Brittany gave the mare a good workout. When she brought the mare to a halt and drew her in, Joel could hear her soft words of praise for the horse. After a few sweeps of her hand along its neck, she shifted to where she could lift a boot up to the stirrup.

"Didn't know she was doing this today," Casey muttered.

"First ride?"

"Yep."

Joel tensed as she pulled herself into a standing position in the stirrup, but didn't swing her leg over. The mare scooted sideways and Brittany remained standing until she came to a halt.

"Shouldn't you or Mark be doing that?"

Casey shook his head. "This is her baby. Surely you know her well enough by now to know she'd never hand over the reins for this ride."

It may be true, but he still didn't like it. He climbed up onto the fence, ready to jump in should she need help. Casey stood on the bottom board and watched beside him.

With the mare at a standstill, Brittany swung her leg over her back and settled nice and easy into the saddle. She gave it a moment, then dismounted and did the same on the other side. He was impressed with her patience. Back where he came from, many of the ranchers hopped up and held on tight until the horse stopped bucking.

Brittany took a moment to pause in front of the mare. She stroked her forehead before moving back to the horse's left side to mount a third time. She kept talking in that soft voice of hers as she settled into the saddle. Gathering the reins, she shortened the one on the left side and nudged her heel against the horse's belly.

The mare skittered sideways again, but when she tried to lower her head to start bucking, the shortened rein kept her head up, and Brittany kept her moving.

"You really think she'll head back to the city?" Joel asked. He felt Casey's gaze on him, but didn't take his eyes off the girl and horse. From the corner of his eye, he saw the other man shrug.

"It'd be great if Britt would do what she wants to do, but her dad's a pretty formidable force. If Mark hadn't needed her this summer, she'd be working in that high rise right now."

Joel couldn't picture the woman before him in her dusty jeans and cotton shirt sitting behind a desk in downtown Chicago. If she ended up there, would she let this talent go to waste?

Casey hopped back off the fence. "Good talking to you, Joel, but I've still got work to do, so I'll catch ya later. Good ride, Britt!"

She'd slowed the mare to a walk, and reined her to a halt in the center of the enclosure. As she shifted her weight to dismount, a motorcycle roared to life from the direction of the Sports Center. Whether it was a Harley Davidson, or the owner simply wanted it to sound like one, the peace-shattering noise was more than enough to detonate the mare's flight instincts.

She flinched with her whole body, then exploded. Head down, she lunged forward in a series of stiff-legged hops.

"Pull her head up!" Joel called.

But Brittany's balance was off, and with the next forward plunge, the mare unseated her. Joel cringed as she flew off and landed on the ground. His heart lodged in his throat when she didn't move.

## Chapter 22

Britt blinked at the blue sky above her. Comprehension flooded in as a figure blocked out the light. Joel's face wavered above her, then she blinked his concerned expression into focus. No more than she moved to get up, his hand shot out to hold her down.

"Stay still. Does it hurt anywhere?"

She drew in a deep breath and moved her arms and legs. Pain radiated throughout her body, but nothing excruciating enough to indicate a broken bone. "I'm fine."

The realization that his restraining hand rested on her chest just above her breasts sent a flood of heat all the way to the tips of her toes.

"Let me up." The demand came out as more of a breathless whisper. She lifted her arm to push him away, then gasped at an instant stab of pain.

He frowned and took her hand, gently probing her wrist. "That hurt?"

"Yes, but it's not broke. See?" She rotated it in a circle, gritting her teeth all the while.

His gaze locked on hers. "You got any blurred vision?"

_Nope. I can see every speck of gold in your gorgeous brown eyes._ She swallowed hard and shook her head. Then she began to feel like an idiot lying on the ground with him kneeling beside her like some kind of knight. And with him staring at her, it was getting harder to breathe instead of easier.

"I'd really like to get up."

He shifted and helped her to her feet with a hand at her back and one on her elbow. At her mumbled thank you, his palm rose to cup her face. She lifted her gaze to his as he gently brushed his thumb across the ridge of her cheekbone.

"You got some dirt on your face," he said softly.

"Thanks."

That mesmerizing gaze dropped to her mouth. Anticipation pooled low in her belly and without even thinking, she wet her lips. His fingers flexed against her skin, then started a slow, deliberate slide into her hair.

"No need to call an ambulance then?"

Mark's amused voice from over by the fence made Britt jerk away from Joel. She rubbed her hands over her burning face to get rid of any remaining dirt, then flashed him a smile while brushing off her dusty butt. "No, I'm fine," she insisted. "It's not like I've never fallen off a horse before."

His smirk intensified her embarrassment of almost kissing Joel right there in front of anyone who happened to be watching. She turned away while flexing her wrist. The pain had already begun to diminish, so she walked to where Gypsy stood about ten feet away.

Neither Joel or Mark said a single word to stop her. They knew as well as her the riding session could not end with the mustang having bucked her off.

"Need help getting back on?" Joel asked.

She shook her head and laid her hand flat on the mare's neck. A slight tremble vibrated against her palm. Soothing her with voice and hands, Britt took her time with the spooked mare. Mount, dismount, mount again. Couple rounds around the ring, and all the while she was hyper conscious of Joel watching every move she made from where he'd retreated back along the fence.

Why was he still here? He'd given her the SD card and she'd already told him she didn't want to talk. Was he really going to be stubborn enough to just wait her out?

After the final uneventful dismount, she took off the saddle and hackamore before rewarding Gypsy with a sugar cube and a generous dose of praise.

Joel appeared at her side to pick up the saddle one handed. She was quiet as they left the arena, but after she latched the gate, she leaned back against it. He glanced back, then halted and swung around to face her. His hesitant smile upped her curiosity, and she folded her arms to hold the tack against her middle, her head tilted in consideration.

"You said you wanted to talk about last night."

A hint of a smile played about his lips. "Maybe not talk so much as ask you to dinner."

She dragged her gaze up from his sensuous mouth.

What was this? Second thoughts? Her heart skipped right over her head at that possibility. "Dinner? As in...?"

His smile widened. "You and me going out to eat a meal together."

The cocky grin helped her head catch up. She ignored the heat in her face and lifted her chin as if she hadn't been thinking about sex and he _knew_ she'd been thinking about sex. "I meant, as friends?"

"No." He propped the saddle against his hip and shifted his weight to one foot. "I still want to kiss you too much to be friends."

So did she, but she wasn't going to tell him that as he stood there all full of himself and self-assured. She was thinking much more clearly now. He might be sorry he'd turned down a sure-thing last night, but that didn't mean he could just change his mind and snap his fingers now.

She smiled and stepped forward. He smiled back. Self-preservation forced her gaze to the top button of his shirt.

"It's a tempting offer, but I'm going to have to pass."

She reached for the saddle, but he held it between them as if it were a bargaining chip. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes."

"Then say _yes_ again and have dinner with me."

Her heart loved his soft, coaxing tone. She listened to her head. "My situation hasn't changed any more than yours has. And as you so kindly reminded me last night, I'd regret it in the morning."

She pulled the saddle from his grip and left him standing there.

"I was only offering dinner," he called after her. "Scout's honor."

He probably _had_ been a scout— _no, don't look back_.

 *

Britt spent the next two days kicking herself. What would it have hurt to have dinner with him? It wasn't like he was irresistible and she didn't have her own mind.

When Mark gave her the next couple days off, she gladly stayed away from the ranch and planned a nice long hike. Seven and a half miles one way. By the time she got home that night, she would have no problem sleeping. Hopefully she'd be too tired to even dream.

After a late lunch break at Lawn Lake six miles in, she said goodbye to the couple who'd arrived shortly after her and shouldered her backpack for the remaining mile and a half to Crystal Lake. A night of camping would have been great, but she'd already pushed it by coming alone for the day. Joel would be pissed that she'd ignored his direct order, but everyone else was working, and it was a well-known trail in an area that hadn't been closed to the public so there would be other hikers around. Besides, it wasn't like he'd ever know—he hadn't even tried to talk to her since Monday.

The toe of her hiking boot nicked a rock and she stumbled. When she caught her balance and looked down, she spotted a shiny object a step ahead. Turned out to be a food wrapper, which she scooped up and stuffed in her backpack with irritation. People who littered were jerks.

A second wrapper had her watching the ground more than the scenery, and a short while later, she noticed the dirt disturbed alongside the trail. Clearly someone had veered from the approved path to explore in the trees beyond. Her irritation spiked since there had been a crude outhouse just prior to reaching Lawn Lake, so she saw no reason to leave the trail.

Then she noticed the disturbance was on both sides of the trail, like the person had crossed over the hiking trail rather than veered from it.

Or more likely, she realized, it was from an animal, like an elk, or mule deer. She leaned over for closer examination on the left and distinguished footprints from animal tracks. She was about to straighten when a second shiny object in the dirt made her heart skip.

A bullet shell.

She picked it up and discovered it wasn't the shell, but an actual bullet. As she glanced into the woods, then back to the ground, uneasiness settled in the pit of her stomach. Coupling the footprints with the bullet, her first thought was that Joel needed to see the scene. He'd know what was relevant. Heck, for all she knew, a ranger could've dropped the bullet while on patrol; some of them carried a weapon like Joel did.

She looked at the bullet in her palm, then frowned. _Damn. Fingerprints._

Taking hold of it by thumb and forefinger on the very edge, she reached her other hand into her pack for something to place it in. All she came up with was the food wrapper.

Voices behind her sent a jolt of alarm straight to her heart. When she whirled around to see the couple she'd spoken to earlier, relief released the air from her tight lungs. She stood in front of the tracks, guarding them as she pulled out her water bottle for a drink.

"That looks like a good idea," the guy said as they stopped alongside her.

Britt had to bite her tongue to keep from pushing them along verbally. After they'd continued, she turned back to the prints. She'd left her cell in her truck due to lack of reception, and hadn't even thought to bring a radio. If she had, she could've called Joel and waited for him. As it was, pictures would have to do. She snapped a number of shots from different angles, then started the long hike back to her truck.

She reached the ranger station after nine p.m. only to find out Joel left an hour ago. When she drove past The Watering Hole and didn't see his truck, she continued on to his duplex. She parked on the street, walked past his vehicle in the driveway, and climbed the steps to the front porch. The light was off, and inside was completely dark, but she rang the doorbell anyway.

A long minute went by before she rang it again. And again. Then she followed up by pulling open the screen door and pounding her fist on the solid inside door. Still no answer. She didn't want to wait until morning, but obviously, he wasn't home. Disappointment swelled as she turned back toward her truck.

She hadn't even cleared the screen door when the porch light flared to life. Blinking at the sudden glare, she spun around as the inside door jerked open.

"If it's that gol-damned important, why the hell didn't you just call?"

Britt couldn't quite find the words she needed to answer the irritated question. Clearly, she'd gotten him out of bed. Above the neck, he looked like shit. His hair stood on end, and he was squinting at her through bloodshot eyes.

Below the neck... _oh my god_.

Her gaze slowly took in broad shoulders, muscled chest, and a trail of dark hair that traversed a tight, trim stomach before disappearing into the only stitch of clothing he wore—a pair of black cotton boxer briefs that gave her imagination enough material to fuel her fantasies for years to come.

## Chapter 23

He was dreaming. Had to be, right? Or she was an illusion. A figment of his delusional imagination. After more than forty-eight hours without sleep, there was no other explanation for the hallucination of Brittany Lucas on his doorstep at ten o'clock at night.

Joel squinted in the bright overhead light, then scrubbed his hand across his face. Two days of whiskers scraped against his palm. He'd come home, showered and literally fallen into bed. Was probably asleep before his head hit the pillow. Maybe still was.

He focused on the vision in front of him. "What are you doing here?"

"I...ah..." Her gaze rose back to his. "I found something while hiking."

He rubbed one eye with the heel of his hand, eyes scrunched tight. Opened his eyes again, and she was still there. She sounded pretty real for a hallucination—and she was frowning at him.

What had she said...she'd gone hiking? So what?

"May I come in?"

At the polite request, he automatically stood aside. Once she walked by, he stepped forward to look outside. Yep, that was her truck. He shut the door and turned around, but she wasn't there.

Good God, he was _tired_.

Closing his eyes, he let himself slump against the door and leaned his head back with a soft _thump_.

"Where do you keep your coffee?"

His eyebrows rose. Eyes opened. Joel pushed away from the door, toward the kitchen and the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing.

"Coffee?" she repeated upon his entrance.

"Freezer." He watched her locate the container and start measuring grounds into a filter. His mind began to clear a bit. "You don't drink coffee." Not that he'd ever seen, anyway.

"It's not for me. I need you to sober up."

He noticed her gaze sweep down the length of him, then she whirled around to run water into the pot. Little warning bells went off in his head. Before she could empty the pot into the coffee maker, he stepped forward and took it from her.

"I'm not drunk, and I've had enough damn coffee for today, thank you."

She moved aside and folded her arms across her chest. "You look awful."

_She_ didn't. He'd woken up enough to appreciate the way her forearms pushed her breasts toward the low neckline of her tank top beneath an unzipped sweatshirt. Frayed, cut-off jean shorts showed off her long, athletic legs above a pair of hiking boots.

He averted his gaze to pour the water down the drain. "How about we see how _you_ look after two days of work and no sleep."

"Did you finally catch the poacher?"

_Finally?_

His fingers tightened on the plastic handle of the pot as he shook his head. "We found another kill. I was tracking him, but lost the trail on the second day."

"Oh. Sorry."

So was he. Because this last time, the disturbed sonofabitch hadn't even bothered with a trophy ram. When Joel found the mutilated ewe, a chill had run up his spine with the realization that it was different from the others. A thrill kill. It threw them into a whole new game, and raised the stakes infinitely higher. The sick person who could carve up an animal like that would have no qualms about killing a human being.

He shrugged, even though at the time he'd wanted to slam his fist into a tree. Still did whenever he thought of the dead animals.

He'd rather look at her. When he cast another glance toward Brittany, he noticed her assessing gaze take a slow slide south. It bounced back up a moment later as she straightened.

"You know, maybe you could put some pants on so we can talk?"

Considering his body was starting to respond to her perusal, that was probably a good idea. But he had a better one—a safer one. He jammed the empty pot back into place in the coffee maker and headed toward the living room. "I'm going back to bed."

"Wait...don't you even want to know what I found?"

He swung around with exasperation to find her right behind him. He fought the rest of the sleep cobwebs clinging to the edges of his mind. The ones tempting him to reach out and pull her against him and kiss her until she begged him to take her back to bed with him.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about, Brittany. What did you find? Where?"

She dug in the pocket of her jean shorts and then stretched her arm toward him to offer a crumpled granola bar wrapper.

He narrowed his eyes. "You woke me up to give me garbage?"

She rolled her eyes. "Look what's _inside_." Taking hold of his hand, she placed the wrapper in his palm. Her soft, warm skin distracted him, until he saw the .22 caliber bullet nestled in the wrinkled cellophane and brought his other hand up to part the folds for a better look.

"Don't touch it! Well, I already did, but—"

He flicked his gaze to hers without lifting his head.

"I'm sorry," she continued. "I wasn't thinking. It was only after I'd picked it up and noticed footprints that I thought about fingerprints."

He set the wrapper on the dining room table, then went back into the kitchen. "Where'd you find that?" he asked while he started refilling the coffee pot.

"I thought you had enough coffee?" she asked from the doorway, a smug little smile on her face. When he threw her a dark look, the smile disappeared. She moved into the kitchen to lean back against the counter. "I found it on the Lawn Lake Trail. I was on my way to Crystal Lake, but when I saw the bullet, I figured you'd be able to check if it was a ranger or not."

The park's armed enforcement rangers carried 9mms, not .22s. _That_ was the caliber favored by the poacher. Unlike a more high-powered rifle, the report of a .22 didn't travel as far, yet if the shooter was a good marksman, he could still make a kill shot from as far away as three hundred yards.

On the flip side, the bullet could just as easily have been dropped by a visitor who'd been carrying their firearm in the park legally, but at this point, every lead was worth checking out.

Joel leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his feet at the ankles as the coffee began to drip. "You said there were footprints?"

"They looked identical to the ones up at the overnight camp."

"Some of the most popular hiking boots sold across this country have similar treads. Without comparing the prints, there's no way to be sure."

"I took pictures."

"Good thinking. Let me get dressed and we'll take a look on my computer. I'll be right back."

In his room, he resisted the lure of his pillow, and pulled on a pair of black cotton shorts and a white T-shirt. His computer was on the dining room table, so he returned to the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee. "Can I get you anything?"

She held up the glass of water she'd helped herself to, so he took a seat at the table as she pulled her SD card from her pocket. When she sat in the chair next to him, their bare knees brushed. He was immediately reminded of her blatant appraisal in the kitchen and covered his shift away from the flare of heat by reaching for his coffee cup.

"I also noticed animal tracks near the footprints," she told him as the computer booted up. "In fact, once I realized it looked more like something had crossed the hiking trail instead of veered off it, I figured it was probably just an animal trail. When I looked closer, that's when I saw the footprints and found the bullet."

Joel slid the media card into its slot and uploaded the photos she'd taken. One glance was all it took to recognize the tread on the print matched those of other prints he'd documented at previous crime scenes.

"Do they help?" she asked after a few minutes.

"Possibly."

She leaned close to point to a spot on the computer screen. "Can you tell what kind of animal tracks those are?"

"Looks like elk, but I can't be sure." The faint smell of apples mixed with mountain freshness was beginning to go to his head. Probably time to wrap this up.

"Maybe we'll find a better print when we get up there tomorrow."

He cast her a sideways glance. "We?"

"Well, yeah. I'll need to show you where I found everything."

"You can show me on a map."

She shook her head as he shut his laptop. "I'm going with you." When he started to protest, she cut him off. "I don't remember how far along I was between the two lakes, and too much of the trail looks alike. I couldn't even tell you a landmark to look for."

Exhaustion accelerated his growing frustration over her stubbornness, and something else suddenly occurred to him. "You keep saying _I._ Were you up there hiking by yourself?"

The abrupt change of subject caught her off guard. He read a flicker of guilt in her eyes before she averted her gaze to reach for her water.

"You went alone."

"Lawn Lake Trail is still open to the public, and besides, there were other hikers—"

He banged his coffee mug down onto the table with barely controlled force. "Who could've been poachers for all you knew. God, don't you understand? I don't have any solid suspects yet, no clue who the hell this is. Hell, for all _I_ know, it could be _you_."

Her gaze met his and a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "If it were me, would I have brought you my own bullet?"

"It could just be that you're good at covering your tracks." He knew it wasn't her, but was trying to make a point.

"Or, maybe I am who I appear to be. Someone who cares and wants to help."

"Appearances can be deceiving. One of life's lessons I've learned the hard way."

Joel shoved to his feet and strode down the hall to the bedroom. She was right about her having to show him the site tomorrow, but he needed to get away from her—away from the overwhelming fear and anger that ambushed him when he realized the danger she'd put herself in yet again by going alone.

Why couldn't the bull-headed woman just frickin' listen to him? It was for her own damn good.

He braced his hands against the dresser and hung his head. The thought of her getting hurt tied his stomach up in knots and had him taking out his frustration on her. With her, he could go from zero to pissed in one point two seconds, leaving little chance for his rational mind to catch up with his emotions.

On top of that, even with the caffeine from a few minutes ago, fatigue weighed him down. More than anything, he needed to get some sleep. Then he'd be better equipped to deal with her in the morning. Resignation sent him to the closet.

"A little appreciation would be nice."

The irritated statement made him lean back beyond the barrier of the door. Brittany stood in the bedroom doorway, hands braced on her hips.

"You know, like _thank you?_ "

He reached inside the closet, then closed the door and advanced on her with a set of sheets and a blanket. "Thank you."

She hadn't expected that. He read the surprise in her eyes before she nodded and shifted her gaze away from his. Must've landed on the bed because when she jerked her attention back to him, her face had turned a light shade of pink. Yet there was a heat in her eyes that told him she'd thought about the two of them on a bed at some point.

Damn, she was making this hard.

He shoved the bed linens into her arms and stepped back. She grappled to keep them from falling to the ground. "What is this for?"

"The couch. Get some sleep," he ordered. "We're leaving early."

"I'm not staying here." She tried to give them back.

"If you insist on coming along, the only place you're going now is the couch, 'cause I ain't waitin' for you in the morning." Because he knew it would make her run, he cocked an eyebrow and gave her a smile. "Unless you want to share the bed?"

The color in her face deepened, but she stood her ground. "Gina's apartment is just on the other side of Estes on Devil's Gulch Road. Tell me what time you want to leave and I'll be here."

He got rid of the smile and jabbed a finger toward the living room. "Couch. Now."

She looked like she was going to argue more, but then huffed out a breath. "Fine. Can I have a pillow?"

He stepped back to swipe one from the bed, then tossed it to her.

"Is this one yours, or—"

"They're both mine. Just take the damn thing and go," he growled.

She backed out the door. "It's not my fault you're tired. You don't have to act like such a jerk."

"You've got about three seconds."

"Or what?" she challenged.

"Or I'm going to kiss you, and we both know neither one of us is going to want to stop there."

## Chapter 24

Britt woke up to the smell of coffee and the clatter of dishes. She grimaced when one peek confirmed it was still dark outside. Sleep had been a long time coming with her head resting on a pillow that smelled like Joel fresh out of the shower and his words echoing in her head.

She'd been so hot and bothered, the temptation to share the bed in the other room had been nearly impossible to resist.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

She propped herself up on one elbow to see him smiling from where he stood by the table.

"Breakfast is ready. You've got ten minutes, so move your butt."

She flopped back onto the pillow with a groan. For a man who'd gotten maybe six hours of sleep after being awake for forty-eight, he was way too chipper. And bossy. She flipped aside the blanket and headed over to the table while trying to finger-comb knots out of her ratted ponytail.

Joel was already eating his breakfast of scrambled eggs with ham, and two slices of whole wheat toast. Her plate was identical, but instead of coffee, he'd poured her a glass of orange juice. Her stomach growled, reminding her she'd skipped dinner last night. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder to deal with later and sat down to eat.

"You up for a second day of hiking?" he asked after a minute.

"Don't really have much of a choice, do I?"

He rested his fork at the edge of his plate and leaned back in his chair to study her. She squirmed at the thought of what she must look like and took another bite.

"That's the thing I don't get. You do have a choice. I didn't make you stay here last night. Not really."

She kept her eyes on her plate and chewed a mouthful of eggs.

"Why didn't you leave?"

The eggs stuck in her throat, making her take a swig of orange juice. "What this guy does makes me sick to my stomach. Hunting for meat to feed a family is one thing, but killing like he does is wrong. If I stumbled across something up there, I want to help you find it sooner rather than later so you can stop him from killing any more animals."

"I do appreciate that." He stood to carry his dish into the kitchen, then returned to lean a shoulder against the doorjamb between the two rooms. "Investigations like this one are my least favorite."

"Have you had many of them?"

"This is the seventh one I've worked, but even one is too many."

She agreed, and liked the fact he wasn't too macho to admit it. She, on the other hand, was too far out of her comfort zone to admit the second reason she'd stayed.

One more bite and she finished off her breakfast with the last swallow of OJ. Joel came forward to take her plate as she pushed her chair back to stand. "I'll pack us a lunch if you want to use the bathroom. I left a toothbrush and wash cloth for you on the counter."

"Thanks."

She figured she had about three minutes left of the ten he'd allotted her, but took fifteen to brush her teeth, wash up, and wrestle her hair into submission with a comb of his from the drawer. Once the tangles were out, she pulled the curls over one shoulder and twisted them into a simple braid. A fresh change of clothes would be nice, but she didn't want to risk his amicable mood disappearing if she requested to head the opposite direction of the park to stop at Gina's apartment.

When she returned to the living room, Joel straightened from where he leaned against the wall by the door, and slung a full backpack over one shoulder. "Ready to go?"

He'd cleaned up the bedding on the couch, so there was nothing for her to do but nod and precede him out the door. She returned his smile on her way by and almost turned back to ask the question she'd been wondering about since she laid on the couch the night before.

Courage deserted her there on the porch step, as well as during the drive to the trailhead. The hike offered no opportunities either, because they'd fallen into a comfortable rhythm of conversation. Add in a bit of teasing here and there, and some might even call it friendly.

Unfortunately, she was fairly certain her question would flip that switch, so the nerve she needed to voice the words remained as elusive as Joel's poacher.

They reached Lawn Lake by eleven and ate lunch on the same rock she'd relaxed on yesterday. The trail had been practically deserted, so they were the only two enjoying the scenery until it was time to move on.

She didn't look forward to this next part and felt her shoulders tense as they continued along the path leading to Crystal Lake. Her attention focused on the side of the well-worn route, eyes searching for any familiar sign from yesterday. She turned back to look at Joel and recognized the view from when the hikers had paused with her for a drink.

"It's right around here."

They couldn't find the prints that'd been on the side of the trail, and she sighed. "When I was headed back yesterday, I passed a group of teenagers on the way up. They must've disturbed the tracks."

"Then it's good you took pictures."

Joel widened the search and located the trail a good ten yards into the woods. He worked backwards to the hiking trail, checking the dirt for additional bullets or shells. Coming up empty, he led the way into the forest and they tracked the trail for almost a mile before he halted.

Britt noticed dark spots on a rock, and from there, the trail of blood intensified. Joel pulled out his radio and called the station. She listened as he gave Randy the coordinates of where to send a chopper to meet them. Her stomach knotted at the tension in his voice.

He clipped the radio on his belt and faced her. "I want to give you fair warning, this guy is getting worse. This might not be something you'll want to see."

"Thanks, but I can handle it."

"That's fine, but please, just give me a minute, okay?"

The fact he asked instead of ordered was not lost on her. She nodded and waited behind as he made his way through some brush before shrugging off his backpack. He pulled out a camera, then started working in a methodical circle to document the scene and preserve evidence before advancing.

When he set the camera aside and motioned her forward, she took a deep breath before joining him. Even with his warning, she wasn't prepared for the up-close look at the mound of bloody flesh that used to be an elk. The animal had been mutilated and was recognizable only by the velvet-covered antlers on one end. Though it wasn't nearly as bad as the ram at the overnight camp, stench hung in the air from the start of decomposition.

Her stomach churned, and she had to choke back the bile that rose in her throat. "How could anyone in their right mind do something like this?"

"This guy is not in his right mind." He looked up from where he was hunched close to the ground. "Now do you understand why I don't want you out alone?"

Turning away from the gruesome sight, she fixed her gaze on the majestic mountain peaks towering above the treetops. "It's hard to believe something this horrible happens in a place this beautiful."

"Believe it." Anger resonated in the two words. "The evidence is right in front of you."

"I know. How long ago do you think this happened?"

"Judging by the rate of decomp and the smell, inside of forty-eight hours. Possibly even yesterday morning."

His grim tone said what he didn't need to. She'd been too close.

The rhythmic chop of helicopter blades registered and Joel waved his arm as the machine passed overhead to locate a landing site. Silence fell in the forest and shortly after, Randy and the pilot arrived with the required equipment. Dennis Mueller merely nodded in her direction, but Randy stopped in front of her.

A slight frown marred his brow as he set down the cases he held. "Britt, I didn't know you were here, too."

"She found the bullet yesterday and led me back up here today," Joel advised.

"She shouldn't have to see something like this." He turned his slightly accusing frown from Joel, and locked his gaze with hers. "You doing okay?"

She nodded, surprised by the intensity of his concern. "I'm fine, Randy, don't worry about me. You guys just do what you need to help Joel so he can catch this sicko and put him behind bars where he belongs."

"Brittany's right," Joel said. "Let's get this taken care of so I can get her home."

Randy nodded, his jaw tight. After a moment, he visibly relaxed, gave her one of his usual smiles, and bent to open the equipment he'd carried in.

Each of the men pulled on a set of medical gloves, and Britt moved off to the side so she wouldn't be in the way. Pulling out her own camera to pass the time, she wandered in the near vicinity and took some pictures of the wildflowers and interesting moss patterns on rocks. After about a half-hour, boredom won out and she returned to the site to sit on a log and watch the guys work.

Joel stood to stretch a short while later. Muscles bunched in his shoulders and his T-shirt rose just enough to give her a glimpse of his trim stomach. That was not boring.

Without thinking, she raised the camera and zoomed in on just him, with the mountains in the background. His hands paused above his head when he caught her snapping the picture. Lowering his arms, he stripped off the gloves and strode over.

"Sorry you have to wait here through all this. We're almost done."

"I'm fine. I like watching you work."

A corner of his mouth quirked up. "Yeah?"

"It's an interesting process," she said, attempting to cover her slip of the tongue after having already exposed her interest with the camera.

"Ah. The process is what you were watching."

"Of course, what else?" She gave him an innocent smile that meant nothing next to the heat that'd crept into her face.

His chuckle faded to a grin when Randy called him over to look at something. He cast her one last glance before squatting beside the ranger to confer.

Things seemed to have changed between them overnight. She didn't understand it, but she discovered she liked this side of Joel more than ever. If she'd have met _him_ before last night, she'd have begged him to kiss her and share his bed instead of sleeping on the couch.

Which brought back the nagging question of her day. To avoid another round of unanswerable speculation and force her mind to drop it, she took some more pictures around and of the crime scene until Joel said it was time to go.

Once the equipment was stored in the chopper, they climbed aboard and Dennis flew them to the trailhead. It was her first ride in a helicopter, and away from the grisly scene they'd discovered, she was able to enjoy the scenery from above. Gave her camera a workout, too.

After they landed, she said goodbye to the pilot and Randy, then ducked with Joel to jog from under the chopper blades. He walked her the rest of the way to his truck and handed her the keys so she could swap his vehicle for hers back at his place. Randy was going to give him a ride home once they finished at the ranger station.

"Just leave the keys under the driver's side mat and lock the doors when you leave. I have a spare truck key in the duplex."

He had to speak loud to be heard over the noise of the waiting helicopter. Even at a distance, the whirling blades kicked up enough wind to make her squint as stands of her hair blew across her face.

"Thank you again for all your help today," he added.

She shrugged with a small smile. "I didn't do much."

"It was enough." He looked like he was about to say something more. Instead, his gaze dropped to her mouth, then his jaw tightened, and he pivoted back toward the chopper where the other two rangers waited.

Before she chickened out, Britt called his name and reached for his arm. Joel swung around to face her almost as if he'd been hoping she'd call him back.

_Just ask the damn question_.

She raised her chin and lifted a hand to hold the hair out of her eyes. "Why didn't you kiss me last night? I mean, if you knew I wouldn't want you to stop, why not just kiss me and go from there?"

He stared at her for a long moment, then lifted his arms out from his sides and tilted his head back. "You ask me this _now?_ "

"What's wrong with now?"

His arms fell back to his sides and his eyes met hers. "Because I'm probably going to have to work all night."

The implication triggered a rush of awareness and disappointment. "Oh. Sorry."

He laughed. "No you're not."

"Yes, I am," she insisted.

He stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders, still smiling. "You are, but you're not, and _that's_ why I didn't kiss you."

"I don't understand."

"You waited to ask until there was no chance of anything happening between us. As much as we both may want this, something is still holding you back."

She stared at the collar of his T-shirt, stunned by his perception of something she hadn't even realized herself.

"And that's okay. I can respect that and wait until you're ready." He moved in close and dipped his head down while framing her face with his hands to tilt hers up. "It'll be worth the wait."

She wanted to tell him she was ready, but he covered her mouth in a gentle, bone-melting kiss that weakened her knees and saved her from a possible lie. She reached up to grasp his forearms and hung on until he lowered his hands back to her shoulders and ended the kiss.

"Drive safely," he murmured.

He started to pull away, but she gathered her growing courage and tightened her grip. "What about dinner?"

"I'll grab something from the vending machine at the ranger station."

"I meant, you and me, getting something to eat together."

His words from the other day made him smile, then he gave her hers back. "As friends?"

"No." With her heart pounding, she lowered her lashes and admitted, "I like your kisses too much to be friends."

That got her a laugh. The low, husky sound swirled the desire simmering deep inside her.

"Dinner sounds good," he said. "Tomorrow night?"

She grimaced. "I have to work the ranch cookout and hay rides. Sunday?"

"It's a date."

He leaned in to kiss her once more, then backed away and ran in a crouched position back to his ride. She raised one hand to shield her face from the whirling dust and watched until the chopper lifted off.

## Chapter 25

Joel picked up his cell and programmed Brittany's number in his contacts list before placing the call. He looked out at the gathering dusk and glanced at the clock. Eight-thirty. If she wasn't done with work, he'd just leave a message.

By the fifth ring, he expected her voicemail message. "How'd you get this number?" was definitely not a recording.

Yet, there was a playful note in her voice that made him grin as he leaned back in his chair. "I've got my ways." He liked the new level of familiarity they seemed to have attained.

"It's on my background check, isn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Mm-hm. I figured."

"Done with work yet?"

"Almost. Then I've got to stop at the grocery store."

"Imagine that. I was going to go to the grocery store."

"Well, maybe I'll see you there."

"Maybe you will."

"Bye, Joel."

He hadn't planned on such a short call, but couldn't keep the grin from his face as he replied, "Bye, Brittany." After hanging up, he noticed Randy at the door. "Heading out?"

"As long as you don't need anything else?" the ranger asked.

"No, I'm good, and thanks for staying late."

"Sure thing. See you Monday."

Joel straightened his desk and locked the office on his way out a few minutes later. At the store, he parked and made his way inside. At the third check-out from the door he spotted Kelly Stevens bagging groceries. The guy had his head down and wore what looked to be a permanent frown. A corner of Joel's mouth quirked up. Justice. He loved it.

Ten minutes later, everything on his mental list was in the cart except ice cream. If Brittany ended up back at his place either tonight or tomorrow, he definitely wanted to offer her ice cream again. He stood in the freezer aisle and debated the choices.

"Chocolate chip mint," Brittany said from behind him.

Just the sound of her voice shouldn't make his pulse race. He opened the door and reached into the case to give himself a moment to breathe. "I was going to try the Magnum bars."

"Ooh, those are good, too."

He set the box in his cart and finally turned to face her. She was still in her wrangler work clothes and looked pretty as ever. The welcoming curve of her lips made it impossible to contain his smile and play it cool. "Hello."

"Hi." Her smile faded as she cast a glance toward the check-outs. "You see who's working up front?"

He nodded. "Did he see you when you came in?"

"Mmm, yeah. And if looks could kill..."

"Bet he doesn't do that when he sees me."

"Of course not. Because the idiot thinks he can intimidate me."

Clearly, she wasn't intimidated. He admired her resilience while at the same time worried it would make her careless.

Kelly wasn't at the front of the store when they went through the check-out line, but he came in with a bagger's cart as they were on their way out. With Joel at her side, the guy completely avoided eye contact with both of them.

"Typical," she muttered as she followed him to her truck.

Joel was one step ahead of her, and as they approached, his steps slowed. Both front tires were flat. What were the odds of that? "Did you drive over some glass on your way in?"

"No, why?" She stopped beside him and spotted the tires. "Oh, come on."

Joel took a step back to check the back passenger side, but that tire was fine. He made his way around to the driver's side as she opened the passenger side door to set her groceries inside.

"I'd have noticed glass."

"I hate to say it, but this looks deliberate." The hair on the back of his neck pricked as he met her gaze through the back window. "This one is flat, too."

"You've got to be kidding me." She slammed the door and came around to the back as he set his purchases on the ground and bent to check the tire. It only took a moment to find the slash. She moved to the front tire and found one, too.

"Well, there it is. Gutless little worm."

Joel rose to his feet to see her headed back inside. He hurried after her and caught her arm. "Whoa—where you going?"

"It's not like we don't know exactly who did this."

She jerked free, but he spun her around to face him. He'd love to go and show the guy his fist up close, but that wouldn't help. They needed to be smart about how they handled the situation if they wanted justice.

"He's my first guess, too, but we should let the police handle this."

"I want to see his face."

"And you will." He pulled his phone from his pocket and held it up like he was ready to dial. " _When_ the police get here."

"Fine." She pulled away and crossed her arms over her chest, staring him down as if he were the bad guy. "He doesn't scare me," she stated.

"That's what worries me," he muttered as he made the call and spoke to the dispatcher. As she promised to send someone right over, Britt stared at the front of the grocery store as if she could will Stevens out.

The dispatcher asked Joel for the license plate number, and he twisted around to read it off. When he disconnected the call and turned back, Brittany was a good ten yards away, headed straight for Kelly and his cart full of groceries.

" _Gol-dammit_."

Short of sprinting, there was no way he'd prevent the confrontation. Even then, they arrived at the same time. The customer stepped back, wide-eyed as Joel grabbed Brittany to hold her back. Kelly glared at both of them from behind his cart.

"Do you feel better now?" Britt demanded.

"What are you talking about?" Kelly grumbled. "This job sucks. If it weren't for you—"

"I'm talking about my tires," she snapped.

"What about 'em?"

"I know you slashed them."

He scoffed. "I didn't touch your tires, but my hat's off to whoever did."

Joel tightened his grip as Brittany surged forward. "You got yourself fired, Kelly, not me! We'll see what you have to say once the sheriff gets here."

He leaned forward, hands braced on the cart. "I didn't touch your fucking tires. Now leave me alone before you get me fired from this job, too."

Joel pulled her back and pressed his mouth to her ear. "Can you settle down long enough to give me a minute with him?"

Her deep breaths strained against his hold. After a tense moment, he felt her body relent and she gave a curt nod.

He turned her around. "Wait for me at your truck? Please?"

When he let her go with a little push toward her vehicle, she glanced back over her shoulder, first at Kelly, then at Joel. He trusted her at her word and turned back to face the two people watching him; Kelly wary, the lady fearful.

Joel held up a reassuring hand to the woman. "I apologize for the scene. Kelly, take care of the groceries and then we can have our talk."

Once the bags were loaded, he motioned to the side of the store, and they walked across the short span of asphalt so they were out of the way for the woman to leave.

"Listen man, I have no clue what the bitch is talking about—"

Joel reached over and fisted his hand in the guy's shirt to drag him around face to face. He forced his jaw to relax so his voice came out low and calm. "Don't call her that again, understand?"

Kelly's Adam's apple bobbed as he held up his hands in surrender. "I got it. Sorry."

"Now, about the tires."

"I swear, it wasn't me."

"The store has security cameras. Won't take long to find out if you're lying." He didn't know that for sure, but figured the threat would be enough to scare the truth out of the spineless weasel.

Instead of fear, relief filled Kelly's expression. "Go ahead and check 'em. You'll see I wasn't anywhere near her truck."

Well, sonofabitch, he was inclined to believe him. "We'll see all right. And just so we're on the same page, is there anything about our previous conversation that needs repeating? You remember, the one where I told you if you touch Brittany you'd wish you were never born?"

"No, you were perfectly clear," Kelly hurried to assure him.

Flashing lights in the corner of his eye told him the police had arrived. A glance over his shoulder revealed the sheriff himself exiting the patrol car. Joel turned back to Kelly and set him back against the wall before unclenching his fists and smoothing the guy's shirt.

"Good. Stay put now. Sheriff Thompson's gonna want to talk to you."

His stomach did an uneasy roll on the way back across the lot. If Stevens didn't slash Brittany's tires, who the hell did? The vandalism was not only personal, it was downright viciously cold.

He nodded to the sheriff and the accompanying deputy as Brittany braced her fist on her hips. "Well, what did he say?"

"That he didn't do it." Joel looked back to where Kelly now lounged against the side of the store. The red-tipped end of a cigarette arched from his side to his mouth, then glowed bright in the shadows as he took a drag.

"Of course he's going to keep lying."

Joel shook his head, his frustration with her beginning to mount. "You shouldn't have confronted him like that."

"I wanted to catch him off guard."

"All you did was antagonize him further." He was pretty sure he had Kelly contained, but didn't want her to know that.

Brittany's gaze bore into his. "So? Whether it came from me directly, or Aaron, he's going to know who accused him."

"You should've waited," Joel restated, teeth clenched. "Next time I tell you to do something—"

" _You_ are not my boss."

Sheriff Thompson stepped forward, one hand raised for silence. "All right, let's just all calm down. Britt, how about you work with Craig to get the report started while I take a look at your truck."

She turned away to talk to the deputy, and Joel exchanged a look with Aaron. The guy gave him a brief smile of commiseration before dropping down to examine the first tire. He hunkered down beside him.

"You think Stevens did this?" Aaron asked.

Brittany stepped up behind them. "After his threat the other day, it's obvious he did it."

Forearms braced on his knees, Thompson glanced up at her. "I was asking Joel."

_Oh, she's going to be pissed_. Joel met Aaron's gaze and gave a slight negative shake of his head. The cop's mouth compressed into a tight, displeased line.

"You've got to be kidding me," Brittany exclaimed.

As Aaron brushed off his hands and stood to face her, Joel rose, too.

"Did you see him over here?" the sheriff asked.

"No," she admitted, her glare still lasered on Joel. "But he came in from the parking lot just as we exited the store."

"Did _anyone_ see him by your truck?"

"I don't know, no one's said anything. But we haven't asked, either."

"I told him we'd check the security tapes," Joel told the cop.

"Perfect!" Brittany threw her arm out and up. "That'll prove he's lying."

"Do their security cameras cover the lot?"

Joel lifted a shoulder as Aaron looked to him like he knew the answer. "I don't know. I was only trying to scare him into a confession."

"I'll talk to the manager, see what I can get."

The knot in Joel's stomach wound tighter. "It's not Kelly. He wasn't worried about any cameras. Said they would prove he was innocent."

"Who else would it be?" Brittany demanded in disbelief.

Aaron held his gaze for a moment, then turned to her. "We'll haul the truck to the station to examine the tires and maybe get a print to match, but that's an extreme long shot. Right now, unless Kelly confesses—which seems unlikely since he's already denied it to both of you—I can't bring him in."

"Even after his threat the other day?"

"Not unless I see something on the security footage."

Brittany's clenched jaw confirmed she was still stuck on Stevens. Joel's gut was screaming there was more going on than met the eye.

"I've got a blade in the tire back here," the deputy called from the back of her truck.

"That's good," Aaron said. "We'll have a better chance of getting prints off that than the tires. Craig, you get this towed in and I'm going to head inside."

"What do I do?" Brittany asked.

"Go home for now. Joel, can you give her a ride?"

"Already planned on it."

"Good."

"Excuse me, did anyone want to ask me?"

Aaron took her by the shoulders. "Listen, and listen good. I'm going to talk to Kelly, but don't discount Joel's instincts on this. With your truck being keyed and now your tires, there's a chance this person could be following you, so don't be taking any chances."

Her wide-eyed gaze ping-ponged from Aaron, to Joel, and back again.

"Can you provide police protection?" Joel asked.

The sheriff shook his head, regret in his expression. "I don't have the manpower. The main thing is, Britt, you need to watch your back and don't go anywhere alone. As soon as we find something out, we'll be in touch."

## Chapter 26

Britt wasn't sure what to think as Joel drove her back to Gina's apartment. If Kelly wasn't responsible for the tires, who was? Could it be the same person who'd keyed her truck?

Who hated her that much? Kelly was the only one who made sense.

She glanced over at Joel. He'd been quiet as he drove. His fingers kept flexing on the wheel and each car that approached cast his stony profile in stark relief. She wanted to go back to the teasing exchange they'd had on the phone earlier, but he was still mad at her for the confrontation at the store.

"Your friend Gina home tonight?"

"No. She texted me earlier to let me know she's staying at Jackson's one more night."

"Then I'll wait while you pack a bag. You'll be staying at my place tonight."

Again with the orders. Her stomach flipped over for a couple reasons. "Do you think that's necessary? Aaron said not to _go_ anywhere alone."

"He also said this guy might be following you, in which case, I don't want you alone _at all_. Not until we catch him."

The severe tone of his voice sparked the anxiety she was trying to deny. Kelly she could deal with; someone else made the whole situation downright frightening. "You're that sure it's not Kelly?"

His hands flexed again. "I'm that sure."

He wasn't mad, she realized, he was worried. That didn't help her nerves one bit, yet her heart warmed as she drew in a shaky breath. His concern strengthened her decision yesterday to give the connection between them a chance to flourish. And if her heart had any say, they might be able to make it last beyond the summer.

At the apartment building, he pulled his gun and a shoulder holster from beneath his seat. Yet another reality check. After strapping the weapon on, he led her up the stairs and took the keys from her hand. He tried the handle before unlocking the door. "Wait here."

While he went in first, she pulled Gina's mail from the container hanging on the outside wall. Then she stood just inside the apartment until Joel returned from the bedrooms.

"All clear. Pack enough for a couple days. After we leave, let Gina know to stay where she's at."

All of a sudden, she didn't mind the orders. He was in protection mode, and it made her feel better knowing he had her back.

With a nod of agreement, she tossed the mail on the raised counter separating the kitchen and the living room. The envelopes slid, and a couple of them tumbled off onto the lower section by the sink. Backtracking, she leaned over to scoop them up into a neat stack and saw her name printed on one. She picked it up, assuming Gina had left her a note.

"I'll just be a few minutes."

She slid a finger beneath the flap to open it as she headed down the hall. In the guest room, she pulled out the sheet of white, tri-folded paper and opened it. Instead of her best friend's handwriting, there was a single paragraph of plain text.

_I'm very disappointed in you, Brittany. That's what he calls you, isn't it? I expected more from you—hoped for more. Why him, of all people? Maybe you're still hurting after Daniel. Maybe you're just confused. Either way, I'll make it simple for you. Stay away from Morgan, and don't call the police. I won't hesitate to show you how serious I am by extracting a pound of horseflesh...and let me assure you, I'm very good with animals. Be a good girl and no one will get hurt._

Her body flashed hot, then cold as she sank down on the edge of the bed. She literally felt the blood drain from her face as her trembling hand rattled the paper in the silence.

_He knows where I live._

_He knows about Daniel._

_He knows Joel uses my full name._

_He knows about Paelo._

Of all the details, that one hit hardest.

_He knows about Paelo._

The words _pound of horseflesh_ seared into her brain, followed by a flash vision of the bloody elk carcass. A sob caught in her throat.

"You doing okay in there?"

Britt flinched at the sound of Joel's voice and jerked her head up.

_Stay away from Morgan. Don't call the police._ If Joel saw the letter, would he understand her need to make sure her horse was okay?

No. After the tires, he'd insist on the police first.

"Brittany?"

"I—" Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and forced the words out. "I'll be right out."

But she could hear him coming down the hall. Her hands shook as she quickly folded the paper and stuffed it in her pocket. Her gut clenched at the thought of keeping it from him, but what choice did she have? Joel was protecting her; she had to protect her horse.

She hurried to the closet for her duffle bag, then tossed it to the bed as he entered the room. At the dresser, she reached to open the top drawer. Her hands would not stop trembling. Oh, God, she was going to lose it.

"Hey." His soft voice right behind her made her jump, then gentle hands urged her to turn around. Tears burned her eyes and she buried her face against his chest as they spilled over. His arms closed around her and held tight.

" _Shh_." One hand rose to stroke her hair. "It's going to be okay."

With the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, his embrace made her feel safe. Secure.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, okay? We're going to catch him."

His calming tone held a note of confidence that quelled her panic. As the paralyzing emotion subsided, her thoughts cleared and focused on the fact that Joel would keep her safe. It wasn't hard for her heart to convince her mind because he'd never given her any evidence not to trust him.

Which made lying to him that much harder. The lump in her throat swelled again, but she promised herself once she saw Paelo, she'd show the note to Joel and gladly call the cops. She took one more deep breath, then lifted her hands to wipe her face and push from his arms.

"I'm sorry. Things just kind of hit me all of a sudden. I feel like an idiot."

"Don't apologize." He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. "It's been a rough night."

She shrugged. "Thanks for understanding. I'll get my stuff and we can go."

He stepped back as she turned back to the dresser. After grabbing a handful of underwear and socks, then three pairs of jeans from the next drawer, she moved over to the closet. All the while, her mind whirled. How the hell was she going to get him back to the ranch tonight?

She pulled a couple T-shirts from hangers, then dropped everything on the bed over the empty envelope sitting next to her bag.

In the middle of stuffing her jeans inside the duffle, she froze, then widened her eyes as she turned toward Joel. "I don't think I locked the barn when I left."

He frowned. "What made you think of that?"

"I don't know." She turned back to her packing. "Would you mind driving me up there?"

"Is one night going to be that big a deal?"

"The tack alone is worth thousands of dollars. I can't take that chance."

"We can call the resort security office to check the locks."

"No!" She glanced up as confusion deepened his frown. Damn it. "It's just..." She paused and gave him a pleading look. "I'll feel better if I check it myself. I'm sorry, but Mark trusts me, and I don't want to let him down. I promise, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. Please?"

He glanced at his watch, then transferred his piercing gaze back to hers. Her heart kicked against her ribs as she wondered if he suspected her lie.

Finally, he nodded. "Okay."

She didn't have to fake a relieved smile. "Thank you."

A few minutes later, he tossed her duffle in the back of the truck and then waited for her to climb in before shutting the door. The sight of his two grocery bags increased her guilt. She hadn't bought any perishables, but he'd already tossed the box of melted ice cream bars, and she'd seen other food in his cart that should've been refrigerated already. She'd have to pay him back later.

He didn't say a word about the groceries during the drive. Instead, he slipped into investigative mode. "Is there anyone you can think of who would've slashed your tires? Someone you don't get along with?"

She shook her head. "Only Kelly."

_And apparently, whoever wrote that note._ How did he know so much about her? Could it be the poacher was someone she knew? A chill clawed up her spine and she wasn't able to quell the resulting shudder.

Joel shot her a glance before checking the rearview mirror. "You've never had any problems with a guest?"

"No."

He reached over to adjust his side mirror, then glanced toward hers. "Hopefully there's something on the security video from the grocery store and this'll be over soon."

She prayed he was right.

They were almost to the ranch when she realized his gaze hadn't stopped shifting from the winding mountain road in front of them to the rearview mirror every couple seconds. When she twisted to look out the back window, her pulse leapt at the sight of headlights not too far behind.

He shot her another look. "What?"

She turned back just enough to face him. The dim light of the dash did nothing to soften the harsh line of his profile. "You're the one spending more time checking mirrors than watching the road. Is someone following us?"

His fingers flexed on the wheel. His gaze flicked to the mirror again. "I'm just being careful, that's all."

A moment later, he slowed for Highlands, then gave her a brief warning of "Hang on," before cutting the lights. He still took the turn and then a stomp on the brakes threw her forward against the seatbelt. Somehow she managed to brace her hands against the dashboard as they jerked to a stop on the far left side of the resort's main entrance.

He cut the engine and the cab plunged into darkness. In the sudden silence, her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Her lungs grew tighter with each short breath. His hand finding hers to offer a reassuring squeeze didn't help, because a second later he ordered, "Stay in the truck," and opened his door.

It closed again just as quick, leaving her all alone as the overhead light faded to black. She peered out the back window, but didn't see where he'd gone. Out on the road, she _did_ see the approaching headlights of the car that'd been behind them.

Were they slowing down?

Was it the poacher?

She held her breath, but the vehicle rounded the bend and kept going. It appeared they'd only slowed because of the curve in the road. Britt let out a sigh and waited for Joel to get back in. A full minute and two more vehicles passed before he opened his door.

Even as she blinked in the sudden flare of light, she saw him reach across his chest to holster his gun. He didn't say a word as he started the truck and drove to park in front of the Sunset Vista Restaurant and Bar. The restaurant had already closed, but being a Saturday night during tourist season, the bar was still hopping at eleven-thirty.

"Why are you parking here?" she asked as he got out.

"So it looks like we're in the bar." He met her on her side as she closed the passenger door. "There's an exit on the other side, right?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll head through here and go out to the barn that way."

He motioned her ahead of him, and she glanced back as they climbed the stairs. "But no one followed us. Or are you—"

"Just being careful," he finished for her.

She led the way inside where she smiled at some of the resort employees having drinks in the bar, but continued out the opposite door toward the barn.

The urge to run had her fisting the barn keys in her hand. Metal dug into her skin as they strode along the unlit lane that led to the closed up stables. The darkness pressed in and she couldn't help moving closer to Joel. His hand grasped hers, the rough slide of his palm against hers a comforting reminder of his strength and protection. She squeezed her thanks. He squeezed back.

At the barn, he released her hand and she checked the double sliding doors, then moved to the office door just for show. Neither one budged.

"There you go," Joel said. "Locked up nice and tight, nothing to worry about."

She couldn't leave yet. As she looked at him, the light directly overhead cast his face in shadow. Despite the frantic racing of her pulse, she managed a pleading smile. "As long as we're here, I'd like to just go in and check on the horses. Say hi to Paelo. Do you mind?"

He hesitated long enough to make her worry. "No, go ahead."

She fit the key in the lock and turned it just as a whicker carried across the yard from the arena. Britt jerked her head toward the sound. _Gypsy_. She'd forgotten about her being left alone out there, a helpless target with no way to defend herself. As soon as she saw Paelo was okay, she'd go out and bring the mare inside.

She pushed the door open, hurrying through the office and out into the main aisle, flipping on light switches as she went. The horses blinked in their stalls and a number of them neighed at the sudden activity.

Relief weakened her knees when she reached Paelo's stall and he moved forward with a soft, welcoming whicker. She slipped inside to rub her hands over his satiny coat, then wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug. He arched his neck, trying to nuzzle her.

She smiled and whispered, "I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

Tears pricked her eyelids again. A sound from the aisle made her stiffen. She blinked a few times before turning as Joel stepped forward to run a palm down the stallion's nose. "Looks like everything is all right here."

"Yeah." She stroked his sleek neck, then took the opportunity to slip past Joel as Paelo bumped his nose against his chest. "I think I'm going to bring Gypsy inside, though."

"The mustang?" Joel's gaze narrowed as he turned to look at her. "Why?"

"It'll only take a minute. There's a stall ready across the aisle. Get the sliding door for me, would you?"

"Brittany—wait."

The frown was back in his voice. A sense of urgency dogged her heels as she ignored him and darted down the aisle, back through the office.

## Chapter 27

Joel muttered a curse as he rammed the bolt home on the stallion's stall and hurried to unlock the sliding door. She was hiding something. Considering it'd started back at the apartment when she'd insisted on coming to the barn, he knew it had something to do with the horses.

Why didn't she trust him? He hadn't given her any reason not to, had he?

He didn't like her out there in the dark alone, but no more than he opened the door, she was back with the mare. His tension eased a tiny bit as he stood aside so she could lead Gypsy through. Her soft voice flowed with each step, keeping the horse calm, maintaining the trust she'd earned.

Maybe he should try that with _her._

By the time he'd secured the sliding door once more, the mustang was in her stall, and Brittany stepped back out. She cast him a smile, quick and nervous, before looking back at the horse. Something was definitely not right.

His first instinct was to charge in and demand answers, but right now, her jitters reminded him of the mustang. She hated being told what to do—a result of her father's controlling influence in her life, no doubt. Direct confrontation would only get her hackles up like back in the parking lot, and he'd be no further ahead than he was now.

No, it'd be better if she came to him on her own. He needed her to trust him— _wanted_ her to, yet the past hour clearly proved something still held her back. The level at which her reticence bothered him was downright frightening because it told him he cared too much.

And yet, he couldn't help himself. Hadn't really been able to help himself since the day he'd met her. Didn't she realize he'd stand by her side and do anything to keep her safe?

Maybe not after the betrayal of her fiancé and her father. God, did he identify with how something that hit so deep could screw with a person and make them doubt just about everything about themselves and others.

Letting her know he understood could help him earn her trust, but he'd never spoken to anyone about his mother. Not even his father, who'd been dealing with his own heartbreak at the time. They'd both learned how to pretend they were fine, and over the years, avoiding the subject had been easiest for both of them.

Was this woman in front of him worth the risk of unearthing that buried anguish?

The resounding _yes_ in his mind sent his pulse into overdrive.

_Well, shit._

Joel stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders as he moved forward to stand beside her in the aisle. Letting out a silent sigh, he forced his shoulders to relax.

"Remember when you asked me if I was close with my mother?"

That got him another glance, surprised this time. "You said you weren't."

"I was eight when she left. She packed her bags, walked out the door, and got into some guy's limo. My dad was at work. I begged her to stay, but she wouldn't even look at me. The driver held me back until she shut her door, and I haven't seen or heard from her since."

From the corner of his eye, he saw her eyebrows raise, but kept his gaze trained on the mustang. After all the effort to keep his mother shut in the past, acknowledging her abandonment brought such an intense rush of pain, it was almost as if it'd happened yesterday instead of years ago.

A growing lump threatened to close off his throat, but he swallowed past it and drew in a deep breath to continue. "No calls. No cards. Nothing."

"That really sucks."

Her heartfelt declaration surprised a laugh out of him. Three little words, yet they held a wealth of understanding. "Yeah. It did."

They both watched the mare move restlessly in her stall.

"She's the reason you avoid relationships, isn't she?"

For the first time in his life, he acknowledged that truth. To himself anyway.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

He ran a self-conscious hand through his hair, then rubbed the back of his neck. The move had played out so much better in his mind. Now he felt too exposed. He dropped his arm back to his side and shoved his hand in his pocket as he shrugged. "I want you to know you can trust me."

He wasn't facing her directly, but even at an angle, he saw a telltale sheen of tears well up in her eyes. Well, crap. He hadn't meant to make her cry again.

She reached into her own pocket and withdrew a piece of paper. "I do trust you," she said as she handed it over. When he began to unfold the wrinkled sheet, she reached up to dash away the moisture from her cheeks. "You're going to read that and think I don't, but I swear, I do. I just had to see he was okay first."

He paused long enough to read uncertainty mixed with defiance in her eyes, then dropped his gaze to the paper. By the time he read the last word, emotions rolled through him like a freight train. Fury at the man who dared threaten her. Anger at her for keeping it from him. Terror over the possibility of him failing to protect her.

It all funneled straight toward her, and he barely stopped from crumpling the paper in his fist. To get a grip on his control, he carefully refolded the sheet along the creases. "When did you get this?"

"At the apartment."

Her answer confirmed his suspicion. "You should've showed this to me right away."

"I know, but—"

"You had to see your horse—I know." He got that, damn it. It was part of what made her _her_. He just hated that she'd lied to him.

"I'm sorry, but you would've insisted on calling Aaron first."

Anger rolled around for a second pass. "Damn straight I would have. I'm going to call him right now, and don't even _think_ of trying to talk me out of it. There could be fingerprints on here."

"The envelope it was in is in my bag."

" _Great_." He did nothing to hide his sarcasm. "Thank you."

He slipped the note into his back pocket and turned for the office to make the call because he'd left his phone in the truck. When she didn't offer any defense, guilt spun him back around. She watched him silently, as if ready to take whatever recrimination he dished out. She didn't back down when he strode forward, but one brief flicker of her lashes revealed her tenuous composure.

So damn vulnerable and not willing to admit it.

Joel pulled her into his arms and held her tight against his chest, never wanting to let go. "I'm sorry. I'm mad at _him_ , not you. I want to catch this bastard."

"I know."

"Paelo will be fine," he promised. "I won't let anything happen to either one of you."

"I know."

Instead of reassuring him, the trust in her voice increased the fear in his heart.

When she tilted her face and met his gaze without hesitation, his breath caught in his chest. Raising one hand to the back of her head, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed closer. Her warm lips parted, inviting him in to drown in the intoxicating feel and taste of her.

He fought back a groan of frustration. What was he thinking? He had to call Aaron about the threat—and Mark to arrange for barn security. She was not a temptation he could succumb to right now, yet finding the willpower to break the kiss with her soft curves molded to his body proved to be difficult.

Distantly, he became aware of an increased noise level in the barn. The horses were getting restless in their stalls, mirroring his own frustration.

"I've got to make that call," he finally whispered against her mouth.

In the same moment she began to draw back, the alarming combination of gas and smoke hit his nostrils. Joel's eyes popped open. A yellow flicker at the back of the barn chilled his blood and had him frantically reaching to drag her arms from around his neck.

"The barn is on fire!"

She whirled around, her eyes widening at the hungry flames licking up the wall. Fingers of smoke snaked along the roof of the hayloft above their heads. A terrified ear-splitting whinny sent the other animals in the barn into all-out panic.

"Oh my God—the horses!"

Joel jerked Brittany around and pushed her toward the office. "Call 911 while I start getting them out."

Trusting her to do as he ordered, he ran for the stall closest to the flames. The horse was already full of sweat, and the whites of its eyes showed as Joel opened the stall door. The animal backed up, but the moment it came up against the wall, it bolted forward. He flung himself out of the way and still got clipped by the horse's shoulder.

The force bounced him against the door, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He regained his balance and scrambled after the animal, then skirted past with his back to the wall when it reached the closed doors and whirled around in mindless panic. Seconds later, he unlatched the doors and flung them open. The horse streaked past as Joel turned back for the next one.

Fire licked along the sides of the barn now, spreading faster than he imagined possible. The smoke grew thicker as the flames devoured the dry wood. Joel ran in a crouch on the way to the back to avoid the worst of it, but it still burned his throat and lungs. After waving the next horse out, he stripped off his shirt, and dunked it in the water bucket hanging in the stall.

Brittany was in the aisle, coughing into her arm as she reached to unlatch the next stall. Joel called her name as the horse dashed for freedom. Fisting each hand in his soaked shirt, he tore it in two before thrusting half into her hands to tie around her nose and mouth. Watery green eyes met his for a brief, thankful moment.

They each took a side of the aisle, freeing the horses and letting them loose into the stable yard outside. Some ran, others had to be led, eating up precious time. They'd reached the last three stalls in the front when Joel noticed people gathering outside. A few worked to catch the milling horses, others just watched.

The pop and crackle of the fire had risen to a loud roar, and as he led his next horse out, a portion of the barn collapsed in the back with a deafening boom. The bay reared up, hauling him off his feet. When he stumbled on the landing, a strong pair of arms helped him upright. His split second glimpse of a face revealed one of Highlands' wranglers.

"How many more?" Jon yelled.

"Three. Take this one. I'm going back in."

Joel shoved the lead rope into his hands and passed Brittany at the doors on his way back inside. Two more. As he reached for Gypsy's stall door, Brittany came up from behind and grabbed his arm. Her grip slipped on his sweat-slick skin and she shouted over the noise engulfing them. "You'll never get near her. Get Paelo!"

No time to argue—he went for her stallion. With the flames ever closer, it was a struggle to get the animal out. The heat made it hard to breathe even with his shirt tied around his face. Smoke stung his eyes, and tears blurred his vision, but he couldn't let Brittany down.

With the fire breathing down from above, he begged the stallion to move faster. "Come on, boy, help me out here."

Finally, he managed to get him into the aisle and out into the yard. When he saw Jon, he shoved the lead rope at the man. "Hold him—don't let him go for anything."

Joel turned back to see Brittany leading the mustang from the burning building. She'd removed his shirt from her face and had it tied over the mare's eyes as a blindfold. Their exit created a surreal picture that played in what felt like slow-motion. Woman and horse taking one step at a time, silhouetted against the glowing flames behind them.

Another rafter crashed to the floor at the back of the barn, sending a spray of red-hot embers through the air. The mare reared up and Joel's heart leapt into his throat when Brittany swung from the lead rope. She stuck the landing, but the mustang bounced right back into the air and wrenched the rope from her hands.

She stumbled in front of the rearing horse, and Joel's breath seized in his chest as Gypsy came back down right on top of her.

He lunged forward with a shout as she crumpled to the ground beneath the deadly hooves.

## Chapter 28

It felt like someone was hammering on her head. A steady pounding that kept time with the beat of her heart. Frowning intensified the pain and the slight swaying movement beneath her made her nauseous. Along with the overpowering stench of smoke.

"Brittany?"

Joel's raspy voice made her open her eyes. His shadowed face hovered above hers. Concern clouded his expression and didn't disappear even as a smile softened his mouth.

"Hey, you're awake. How you doing?"

Her eyes had become accustomed to the dim light enough that she could see black smudges smeared across his forehead and cheeks. Her nose wrinkled. _He_ smelled like smoke, wasn't wearing a shirt, and she was half-lying in his lap. When she moved to sit up, a searing pain in her shoulder wrenched a gasp from her lips.

"Easy. Just relax." He tightened his hold until she rested her head back on his arm. "We're on our way to the hospital. Almost there."

"The hospital?" Her voice croaked out of a raw throat that burned so bad she could barely swallow. Her gaze shifted toward the driver's seat to see Mandy Cole's profile lit by an oncoming car. Why was the young wrangler driving Joel's truck?

"You got a pretty nasty bump on the head, and we couldn't wake you up," he explained.

Joel opened his door and slid his arm under her knees to slip out of the vehicle with her in his arms. "I can walk," she protested.

He bent to set her down. Dizziness made her sway and blackness rushed in to crowd the edge of her vision. She made a desperate grab for his arm.

"I got you," he assured her.

Something bumped against the back of her knees, and he eased her down into a wheelchair one of the ER attendants rolled out.

They took her to a room right away and transferred her to a bed. Lying on the white sterile sheets, she realized she reeked of smoke and was as dirty as Joel. She gingerly felt her head, then trailed her fingers down to feel blood matted in her hair. A shower sounded like heaven, but so did a nap. With the bustle of activity that filled the room in the next minute, she knew neither would happen anytime soon.

It was after one a.m. when the nurse finished cleaning the gash on her forehead and the doctor came in to give her nine stitches along her hairline. Her headache had subsided a bit, and her shoulder only ached now, thanks to the ibuprofen they'd given her.

"You're lucky that horse's hoof just grazed you," the woman commented.

She was a whole lot luckier than that. They all were—her, the horses, Joel. He watched silently from the chair beside the bed, elbows braced on his knees. They'd let him clean up in the bathroom, and someone had found him a T-shirt. Red rimmed his eyes, making it look like he'd been crying, but she knew it was from the stinging smoke.

Her eyes burned for a different reason as guilt crept in. She should've given him the note right way.

"You'll be able to go home later this morning, but with the mild concussion, you're going to need someone with you for at least the next twenty-four hours. Forty-eight would be best."

"I got that covered," Joel said.

The doctor glanced at him, then focused back on her work. "Good. I'll send you home with instructions."

_Home_. The woman kept saying the word, and Britt realized it didn't conjure up a picture of her place in Chicago. It didn't bring to mind any one place. Instead, she found her gaze drawn to Joel once more.

Only he'd turned his attention to the door and risen to his feet. Britt looked over to see Aaron shadowing the doorway. He nodded at her, but stepped outside with Joel. She found herself straining to hear their low voices in the hall as the doctor finished.

"The nurses will be in each hour, and I'll be back to check on you before I finish my shift at eight," the doctor told her. "Get yourself some rest now."

"Thank you," she murmured. Tired as she was, once the woman left, Britt grew more frustrated by the minute as the men remained outside the door where she couldn't hear a thing. She was about to call them inside when Aaron glanced over and noticed her frown. He said something to Joel, then stepped past to enter the room. Joel went the other direction and her chest tightened.

"Where's Joel going?"

"To ask Mandy to grab your bag out of the truck."

"For the envelope," she guessed.

"That, and clean clothes for you."

She didn't return his brief smile and shifted her gaze toward the window. "I'm sorry. I know this is all my fault."

"No it's not," Joel stated as he returned. She met his fierce frown. "That bastard is responsible, not you."

She shook her head. "I should've—"

"What's done is done, Britt," Aaron interrupted. "Joel's right, so don't beat yourself up over it. Right now, the most important thing is that you're okay and no one else got hurt."

Easy for them to say. She'd thought she was protecting her horse, but instead put all the animals _and_ Joel in danger. If anything had happened to him in the fire...

He stood next to Aaron, and she wished he'd come closer. At the same time, she knew she should send him away. Being with her is what could've gotten him killed tonight.

"Joel's kept me in the loop on his investigation so far," the sheriff said. "But from here on out, we're combining resources to nail this guy once and for all."

She nodded, though her mind whirled about what _she_ could do to help. Lying in a bed like a helpless victim was not a feeling she liked one damn bit.

Aaron glanced toward the door as Mandy entered with her duffle. She handed it to him and he set the bag on the foot of her bed before digging out the envelope. He dropped it into a plastic evidence bag, then sealed the bag. "I'm going to take what I've got here and get everything processed for prints. Between that and the investigation the fire Chief has started at the ranch, we might have something to work with later this morning."

Joel walked to the door with him and the two spoke in hushed tones again.

"You could use me." Both men swiveled to face her. "To draw him out, I mean. I could—"

" _Hell_ no."

That came from Joel even as Aaron shook his head. "You are going to lay low for a few days. Even better if you got out of town."

Her eyes widened. They wanted her to leave?

"Listen, we'll talk later, okay?" Joel murmured to Aaron.

The sheriff turned to Mandy. "I have to talk to the fire chief, so I can give you a ride back to the ranch."

She nodded, and after Britt and Joel both thanked her, the two of them left. Joel turned and leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest. Britt watched him, all the way across the room, her heart weighted with dread.

"You want me to leave?"

"I want you to be safe. But I might not be the best person for that job. Being next to me puts you in more danger."

"I think it's the other way around."

"I can take care of myself, Brittany." He uncrossed his arms and straightened to come closer to the bed. Her pulse increased with each step, but he stopped and gripped the plastic footboard. His gaze fixed on the bandage along her hairline as he asked, "Would you consider leaving? Going home early?"

She should. To protect him and even herself. And Mark would understand, she knew that. But she realized she couldn't stand the thought of leaving Colorado any more than she could stand the thought of this being the last time she saw Joel. As it was, she only had so many days before he left, so she wanted every minute with him she could have.

The word selfish hovered in her head, until something else occurred to her. "What if he follows me to Chicago? Who's going to watch my back then?" She trusted _him_ for that job, no one else. "It's obvious from the note this person knows all about me. I mean, he knows you call me Brittany, and he knew about Daniel."

"I've been thinking about that." Joel finally moved to the side of the bed and sat on the edge facing her, his hip brushing against hers. "If you stay, you and I are going to have to do some major brainstorming. Come up with a list of everyone you know so Aaron and I can start digging."

_If you stay._ There was no _if_ about it. She'd finally figured out exactly where she wanted to be, no way in hell was she going anywhere. She sat forward and placed her hand on his leg, just above his knee. He covered her hand with his, sending fissions of electricity up her arm.

"I'm not leaving."

His fingers squeezed hers as his lashes lifted. Relief and something more darkened the gold-flecked eyes that met hers. "Good."

It's a good thing she wasn't hooked to a heart monitor, or the whole floor of nurses would have come running.

"And I want to help any way I can."

"So long as you get that crazy idea out of your head about you being bait to lure this guy out. If anything happened to you..."

When he trailed off, his hand came up to brush the hair away from her face, then threaded through the tangled strands to cup the back of her neck. He leaned in for a quick kiss, then gently rested his forehead against hers, well clear of the bandage. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"I won't."

But she already had. With her pulse tripping along at breakneck speed, she realized she'd fallen in love with the man who'd made no secret of the fact he'd never stay.

## Chapter 29

One hundred percent confident no one had followed them this time, Joel put the truck in park and reached for the ignition. A glance toward his sleeping passenger made him pause. He hugged the steering wheel while laying his head down on his arms to just look at her.

Brittany's head was angled away from him, but he could still see telltale circles beneath her eyes from lack of sleep and stress. Her hair needed to be washed better than the rinse the nurses had given her in the hospital, and the unpleasant stench of smoke seemed to have seeped deep into both their pores. Even with all that, she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. His heart was in for a world of hurt once this was all over, but right now, he couldn't bring himself to care. As long as she was safe and he kept her that way, nothing else mattered.

She'd fallen asleep less than five minutes into the drive, which was not a surprise seeing as she'd barely rested in the hospital. About five a.m., he'd left for a couple hours only to return and find a seemingly endless stream of friends popping in to make sure she was okay. Casey, Jayne, Mitch, Jon, Randy, Billy, Mark.

There were others he hadn't met, and he added every single one to his growing list of names.

He watched each person, his anxiety winding tighter with each visitor as he was unable to keep from wondering which one of them had tried to kill them less than twelve hours ago. Recalling that faint scent of gas, he had no doubt the fire had been intentionally set. Even Brittany wasn't her usual warm, welcoming self, and more than once he caught concerned glances exchanged between her friends.

Gina had arrived shortly before they discharged Brittany about two o'clock, and he took a moment to make sure she wasn't planning to return to her apartment alone. Jackson was with her, she told him, and she'd head back to Denver with him for a few more days. Joel nodded his approval and added their names to the list as well. Brittany hadn't seen it yet, but he could just imagine what she'd say when she did.

He shut off the truck and gently closed the driver's door before going around to her side. When he opened the passenger door, she startled awake. Her gaze found his, her green eyes so large in her pale face that his chest ached.

He offered a reassuring smile. "It's just me."

Color infused her cheeks as she sat up straighter. "Sorry. I'm not usually so...wait, where are we? This isn't your place."

She stared out the windshield at the rustic cabin nestled in a small clearing, surrounded by enough Ponderosa Pines to permeate the air with their vanilla-scented bark. The sound of running water told Joel the stream they'd crossed a few minutes ago on the road ran right past the back of the cabin.

"Aaron gave me the key to his cabin. We're about fifteen minutes out of Estes, and he's the only one who knows we're here. He made sure there was no way to track us."

When she started to climb out of the truck, he reached forward, intending to carry her inside. She held up a hand. "I'm good. I have a bump on the head, not broken legs."

She softened the rebuff with a smile, and he backed up to grab their bags from the back. "Okay."

Two steps toward the cabin, she paused. He quickly moved to her side, but all she did was take a deep inhale.

"Mmm, that smells good."

"After a shower, it'll be even better without the undercurrent of Eau de Smoke."

Her laugh warmed his heart. "You smell, too, you know."

"I know." He hadn't showered when he left the hospital, only taken the time to grab his things from the duplex, stop at the ranger station for his files, and then the police station to talk to Aaron.

"I call first dibs," she said.

"It's all yours."

He went ahead of her to unlock the door, then swung it open and stepped aside for her to enter first. She halted in the doorway.

"Hello. Right behind you here."

"Sorry."

She moved out of the way, and he carried the bags inside. One glance was all it took to understand her hesitation on the threshold. The small cabin consisted of exactly two rooms. One was clearly the bathroom, the other was a combination kitchen, living area and bedroom...with one bed.

One large bed.

Despite her injury and the past twelve hours, his mind went right back to that kiss in the barn. "I didn't realize...I'll take the couch."

"It's not a big deal, Joel."

She shut the door behind him and took her bag from his hand. The brush of her fingers against his fueled the simmering burn in his veins. After she'd crossed the room and shut the door to the bathroom, he blew out a breath. It was going to be a long night.

The only way to distract his libido once the water turned on was to head back to the truck to haul in his box of investigation files and the bag of groceries he'd picked up after throwing out half of what he'd bought the night before. The food only took a minute to put away, and then he spread the files out on the table, laptop off to the side.

Instead of reading the words in front of him, he listened for when the water shut off. Then he counted the minutes until the door opened, emitting a light cloud of steam that quickly dissipated in the cooler room as she stepped out.

"All yours. And good _God_ , did that feel good."

_Good God,_ she was going to drive him crazy. Her wet hair fell over her shoulders and down her back. She wore a short pair of thin, black pajama pants with a matching cotton tank top—and no bra. Comfortable and casual, and sexy as hell.

Not even the bruise on her head could douse the blaze sweeping through him. After one lingering glance, he bit back a groan and forced his attention back to the papers on the table.

She flipped back the comforter on one side of the bed and sat on the edge to comb through her curls. He flipped to the next file and read the first page. Then read it again.

Nope, not working.

He shut the file, shoved to his feet, and scooped up his own bag. "I won't be long."

Once in the bathroom, he dropped his stuff and leaned back against the wood to draw in a deep, cleansing breath. Her apple-scented shampoo inundated his senses and had him hard in seconds.

Long night was a frickin' understatement—especially considering it wasn't even four p.m. yet.

Mindful of the couple minor burns a nurse had treated on his back, he scrubbed the smoke smell from his skin and hair, then finished off his shower with a few minutes under a stream of bracing cold water. It helped enough that he was able to pull on a pair of clean briefs and zip his jeans without it being too uncomfortable. When he stepped barefoot out into the main room, he saw Brittany had fallen asleep.

Good. She needed it. He walked over and started to pull the comforter up. The bruise on her shoulder triggered the memory of her lying motionless under the mustang. For a heart-stopping moment, terror seized him all over again. She could have easily been killed.

He shuddered. The thought of her no longer being in his life was unthinkable. As he stared at her damp, blond curls spread out on the pillow, a sudden clarity made his chest tighten even as his heart pounded loud enough to drown out the world around him.

He loved her.

The realization surprised him, yet it didn't. Brought him peace and terrified him at the same time. Hope clashed with uncertainty.

"Joel?"

Her soft voice jerked his unfocused gaze up to see she'd half-rolled toward him. "Right here."

"There's plenty of room if you want to lie down."

He cleared his throat, hoping it'd dislodge the lump restricting his air. "Thanks, but I'm going to get some work done."

Her lashes fluttered before resting against her cheeks once more. "'Kay."

Sheer willpower carried him away from the bed and back to the table. It did nothing to help him focus on the investigation, and after a half-hour, he buried his head in his arms in frustration.

 *

An unfamiliar chime jerked him awake to a room barely lit enough to see across. It took a moment to remember Aaron had taken both their phones and given him a different cell to avoid any possibility of the poacher-turned-stalker tracking their GPS signals. With a quick glance to make sure Brittany was still in bed, he unburied the loaner phone from the paperwork in front of him. It was eight-fifteen, and the chime had been for an incoming text message.

_Partial fingerprint from the blade in Britt's tire doesn't match Kelly Stevens or anyone else in system. Store security video did not cover parking lot. Note and envelope clean. Inspector confirmed fire was arson. Found clear evidence of accelerant behind barn. Stevens has alibi. Will touch base in the A.M. Get some rest._

He read it twice, then lightly tossed the phone aside with a muttered curse. It was exactly what he'd expected, but that didn't help his aggravation that they were still spinning their wheels. He sat back in the chair and scrubbed his hands over his face to clear away sleep.

"What's wrong?"

He lowered his arms to his lap to see Brittany pushing aside the comforter as she got out of bed.

"No fingerprint matches, and there was nothing on the video."

She slipped on a zip-up sweatshirt on the way to the table, leaving him equally relieved and disappointed. He didn't protest when she reached for the phone. After reading the text, she set it back down and sunk into the chair opposite him.

Joel reached behind him to flip on the light switch, watching as she blinked at the sudden illumination. Both pupils seemed to react equally. Good. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry."

So was he, but no use thinking about that. "No nausea? Dizziness? Blurred vision?"

The rapid-fire questions made her smile. "No, Dr. Morgan. I'm fine."

"And the shoulder?"

She slowly rotated it in a circle, but only a slight grimace marred her brow. "Not as bad as I thought it'd be."

"Good." He pushed back his chair to stand. "You okay with hash browns and eggs for dinner?"

"If you're cooking I am."

"It's my specialty," he joked on his way to the kitchen area.

She joined him and pitched in to help right away. He wanted to tell her to go rest, but knew she'd argue. By unspoken agreement, they kept the conversation neutral all the way through dinner. Favorite movies, television shows, books; anything except the mess going on around them right now.

Knowing he was going to have to bring it up soon, his tension built as she washed the dishes and he dried. Despite their easy conversation earlier, silence fell between them.

Though he'd resisted the idea a week ago, he now knew she _was_ that someone he wanted to come home to. Make dinners with, clean up with, and go to bed with her in his arms every night. They just had to get through the next couple days, then see where the ones after that took them.

As he set the plates back in the cupboard, she pulled the pot off the stove that she'd heated water in to make hot chocolate. "Want some?"

"Sure." He hung the damp towel to air dry and watched her scoop powdered chocolate from a tin into two large mugs. When he found his gaze straying toward the bed instead of the table, he decided to get down to business. "We really should take some time to go over that list."

The hand stirring the liquid in front of her stilled. Her glance toward the table told him she knew exactly what list he meant, even though he had yet to show her the one he'd started.

She slid one mug toward him. Picking up the other, she moved toward the table.

Joel took the instant coffee he'd found in the cupboard and dumped a heaping tablespoon into his cup. At the table, he located the list and plopped it down in front of her. While she read the names, mug cradled between both hands as if to warm them as she sipped, he sat and stirred his own mix.

Her face paled as she scanned her eyes down over each name. "I can't believe any of these people would..."

He saw her throat muscles work before she lifted those anguished green eyes.

"Casey? Mark? _Gina?_ All of the people on this list I consider to be friends. Most of them came to the hospital to see me. All of them in fact." She looked down as if to verify that statement, then looked back up. "That's how you started this without me, isn't it?"

"Gotta start somewhere." He hardened his heart against her distress, then took a drink and set the mug aside to reach for the list. Picking up a pen, he held it poised to write. "Who else can we add that would know about your ex-fiancé? Give me every name you can think of."

She listed a handful of people, thought a moment, and named a few more.

"Any of the guys ask you out this summer, or even last summer? Maybe show interest beyond being friends?"

"Kelly. Joe from Circle C asked me out last year." She paused, then shrugged with obvious reluctance. "Mitch. But he's only joking when he does it."

"That's it?"

"Yes. Everyone knows how I feel about summer flings."

And then he'd showed up and pushed. Kissed her at the bar. Couldn't stay away. His presence seemed to be the trigger, not her.

Shoving aside the guilt, he thought out loud. "Mitch seemed to check out for the poaching incidents, but with his background, maybe I'll have Aaron bring him in for questioning. I'll have him talk to Joe Hastings, too."

Brittany frowned and extended her arms to set the mug on the table. She stayed like that, staring at the liquid inside before looking up. "It was nice before."

He looked up, but didn't say anything, not sure where she was going with the comment.

"Talking about normal things. Like all this wasn't going on." She waved a hand at the files covering most of the table's surface.

"It was," he agreed quietly.

She stood and made her way to his side of the table. Joel sat back so he could look up at her. Something had changed from one breath to the next. He felt it in the energy vibrating in the air around them. Saw it in her eyes as she stood next to him.

His heart rate kicked up a notch, then skyrocketed when she placed one hand on his shoulder and swung a leg over to straddle his lap. He automatically grasped her hips as her weight settled so close to his groin, but fought against pulling her closer. His newly acknowledged feelings only added to his dilemma.

"It's late," she whispered. "And tomorrow's going to come soon enough. Can't we just forget it all for tonight?"

That soft, breathless voice twisted his insides and turned him on all at once. Aw, hell, he'd been turned on before she even opened her mouth. He stared at her wet, glistening lips and thought about what she might do to him with that mouth. What he'd do to her with his.

His grip tightened on her hips. "I think you know I'd have no problem doing exactly that, Brittany." And if she didn't, the erection throbbing against her inner thigh should be proof enough.

Her smile confirmed she _did_ know, and those emerald eyes locked with his, so full of invitation his stomach clenched with need.

He forced the next words from a mouth gone dry with anticipation. "But you're forgetting one thing."

"What?"

"I also know how you feel about summer flings."

## Chapter 30

He would never be a fling. Right now, she was only certain of two things: life was full of uncertainty, and she loved the man fighting with every fiber of his being not to be seduced by her because he thought she would later regret it.

_Tell him_.

Her heart thumped in her chest. No, she couldn't do that. If honor made him resist sleeping with her, a declaration of love would make him bolt for the door. Not only did she not want to end up in an undignified heap on the floor, but she was running out of time. Tonight, she'd take whatever he would give her and deal with the rest later.

Summoning another smile, she tilted her head. "Still think you know what's best for me, Joel?"

His gaze faltered, and his Adam's apple bobbed. She leaned forward, increasing the pressure of her hips against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Anticipation built. Their breathing became one; shallow, hot, wanting.

With her mouth a breath away from his, she stared into his eyes and declared, "I swear, the only way I'd have regret in the morning is if you don't carry me to that bed and make love to me right now."

Before the melodramatic words could repeat in her head and undermine her confidence, she leaned in the rest of the way and kissed him until he surrendered with a groan that sounded like it rumbled from the very depths of his soul.

In a heartbeat, he had her in his arms and strode across the room. One detour secured a couple of condoms from his bag, then he set her to kneel on the bed while he stood alongside it. Without breaking the kiss, he unzipped her sweatshirt and peeled it off. She heard the zipper clunk against the wood floor a second before his hands skimmed back up her arms, his warm touch a sensuous glide against her sensitive skin.

She managed to drag his shirt up to his armpits before he leaned so far into their kiss she had no choice but to drop back onto the bed. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside, then crawled onto the bed, looming over her on his hands and knees.

Joel finally smiled. She grinned back, then reached up to bring his mouth back down on hers.

He shifted to lie beside her, propped on one elbow as he slipped a hand beneath the hem of her tank top. "Do you have any idea what it did to me when you stepped out of the bathroom wearing this earlier? With no bra."

The sexy rasp of his voice made her stomach tighten and her nipples hardened. "Should I apologize?"

His hand stilled, fingers spread along her ribcage. "Yes, I think you should."

"How?"

"Take it off."

He watched her in the shadows cast by the light shining from across the room above the table. Slowly, she raised her arms over her head in silent invitation.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the exposed skin above her pajama bottoms. As his breath skimmed lightly over her stomach, she squirmed with a self-conscious laugh. "That tickles."

He did it again. And again, with each inch of skin he exposed while pushing her top up, until it rested just below her breasts. Impatience prompted her to reach down and grab the hem to yank it over her head.

She relaxed against the comforter, and he raised his heated gaze to her bared breasts. "Apology accepted."

Britt laughed. It faded when he dipped his head back to her navel and slowly kissed his way up along her torso. The combination of his soft, warm lips, hot breath, and the sensual scrape of his whiskers against her skin had her quivering in anticipation.

When he finally cupped her breast, she sucked in a breath, then held it as he bent to draw the peak into his mouth. Liquid fire shot through her with each suck and stroke of his tongue. He moved to her other breast, and this time, ran his tongue around the tip, then pushed harder, and did it again.

_Oh, God_. Exquisite torture. When he drew her into his mouth, she gasped at the sensations scorching a path straight to her core. She arched her back in pure need, raking her fingernails against his scalp. She wanted to feel him. All of him. Beside her. Inside her.

Her hands clenched, tugged his hair, tried to pull him up. He moved in the opposite direction of her urging.

"Joel...I want..." Her body ached, throbbed. "I...need...you—"

"I know." He continued his downward path, lips once again skimming her stomach until he reached the waistband of her pajama bottoms. After sliding the soft material down the length of her smooth legs, he eased back up, his fingers trailing along the inside of her thighs to delve in the curls between her legs.

He rose up to kiss her breathless as his hand drove her to the height of pleasure. She couldn't take anymore, and in the next second begged him not to stop. The orgasm hit harder than she'd ever experienced, leaving her limp in the radiant aftermath.

"God, that was gorgeous," she heard him whisper against her neck.

Embarrassment surged at her absolute abandon, until he lifted his head. The look in his eyes confirmed he'd loved it, and she decided she didn't care. Not with him. And now it was her turn to drive him wild.

One push rolled him onto his back, and she dragged his arms up above his head. "Leave them there."

As his fingers curled into the pillow, she scooted down to undo the button of his jeans. She took her time with the zipper, drawing the little metal tab down in a slow, deliberate caress. His stomach muscles contracted as he sucked in a breath, then released it with a low groan.

She grinned, enjoying the rush of power as she stripped the rest of his clothes off.

_Talk about gorgeous_.

The man was all muscle. Her gaze dipped below his waist. _Hard_ muscle, and she intended to explore every beautiful inch with her hands and her mouth.

She lifted her gaze to his. "Close your eyes."

After a moment of hesitation, he complied.

"Don't move."

A furrow formed on his forehead. His fingers kept their tight grip on the pillow. "Okay."

He was so used to being the one in control...this was going to be fun.

She rose up and started with a long, deep kiss on the lips. At the base of his neck, she paused to inhale his scent. Combined with the vanilla-scented body wash in the shower was his unique musky scent she would never get enough of.

"Mmm." She let the sound vibrate against his skin and felt his pulse respond beneath her lips.

Moving on, she explored the hard planes and angles of his chest with her hands, then followed with little kisses, licks and nibbles. She hadn't told him to be quiet, and each guttural moan she wrung from him brought a smile. His stomach muscles clenched tight beneath her lips and his whole body jerked as her hand closed around his steel-velvet length.

No more than her breath caressed the tip, and he startled her with a flurry of movement that landed her on her back with him poised over her.

"Hey," she protested.

"You've got me ready to frickin' explode, woman."

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

She was becoming a grinning fool. "You're right, I'm not."

He dropped his head to her chest in mock despair, but then became distracted by her breasts. His mouth closed over the tip of one while his hand massaged the other. Just like that, he was back in command.

This time when she reached the point of begging, he rolled on a condom and she opened for his possession. The feeling of him sliding inside her was so intense, her chest swelled with emotions she couldn't voice.

She opened her eyes to find him watching her. The heat in his eyes nearly stopped her heart beating. Could he—

He bent his head to capture her lips in a slow, bone-melting kiss and slid his tongue against hers in time with each thrust of his hips. As tension built again, she moved with him and hung on for the wild ride. He dragged his mouth from hers, his ragged breath hot in her ear.

Sweat slicked their skin by the time they catapulted over the edge together.

As they caught their breath, his body pressed hers into the mattress, but she held him tight to her chest, relishing the feel of his solid weight.

Right then, in his arms, she had no thoughts past that moment, their coming together and the complete and utter peace he'd given her.

 *

She woke to the unfamiliar sensation of being naked beneath the sheets. Delicious memory rushed back, and she rolled her head to the side, squinting her eyes against the bright sunlight to see if Joel was awake.

Her clothes were draped across the pillow where his head should've been. The faint aroma of coffee registered on her senses—not freshly brewed, but as if it'd been made by someone who'd slipped out of bed hours ago. A slight lift of her head confirmed Joel fully dressed and back at work amidst the files spread across the table.

She dropped back to the pillow, eyes squeezed shut against the sudden crush of disappointment that constricted her chest.

What had she expected? That he'd cuddle beside her? Wait for her to wake up so they could start the morning in each other's arms?

That maybe, just maybe, he loved her, too?

Of course not. What she'd imagined in his eyes last night was nothing more than a fantasy her love-sick heart had cooked up to fool her head. She knew he was a bachelor. He'd warned her from the start he'd take whatever she gave, and when the time came, he'd move on to his next job.

_And isn't that exactly what_ you _decided last night? You'd take what you could and damn the consequences?_

True. But in the light of day, it was much harder to damn those consequences, especially when so much was riding on them. She'd lost her heart and now realized she did want to wake up in his arms. Every morning. And not just for a week or a month from now, but ten, twenty, even fifty years down the road.

_You knew the score. Deal with it. And don't make him feel bad for it._

She drew in a deep breath and let it back out as reality settled without sympathy. The one night was over, and it was tomorrow. Joel was already hard at work while she lay in bed. Time to deal with so much more than her aching heart.

She levered herself up on her elbows and forced a smile when Joel glanced up. "Good morning. What time is it?"

"Almost ten."

Her eyes widened at the unexpected time and she immediately reached for her clothes. "Oh my God, why didn't you wake me up?"

"Because you needed the sleep."

She dragged on her top and then scooted to the edge of the mattress to pull on her bottoms. "I've got to get to the ranch."

"The stable's closed, Brittany. I already talked to Mark this morning."

"I can still help with clean up. And I want to see Paelo and Gypsy."

He pushed his chair back and walked toward her as she stood by the bed. He must've showered again. His hair was damp, and he'd shaved, too. He looked too damn good for her peace of mind and her racing pulse, yet she couldn't help but meet his gaze.

It was cautious, guarded, yet she read a question in those brown depths she wasn't prepared to answer.

"Casey trailered both horses to his dad's place in Allenspark," he told her. "They'll be safe there until this is over."

"I take it if you let Casey take the horses, you don't think it's him?"

"He's on the list because sometimes it helps to see the whole picture."

She nodded. When she started to move past him, he lightly caught her arm and finally gave voice to the question in his eyes. "You okay this morning?"

_No. I may never be okay again_. "Yep, I'm fine."

"I'm not talking about your head or shoulder, Brittany."

"I know. And really, everything's great." She pasted on a bright smile. "No regrets."

His gaze narrowed as his jaw clenched. Clearly, he didn't believe her. Well, she couldn't help that right now. The musky scent of sex lingered on her skin and she had to get away before she begged him to take her back to bed.

"I really need to use the bathroom."

The moment he released her, she hurried to shut the door between them. God help her, she was going to have to pull it together before she went back out there.

A half-hour later, she felt much more in control as she faced Joel across the table to argue her case. "I want to go to the ranch."

He shook his head. "I've got work to get done."

"Exactly. But you aren't going to catch this guy sitting here." His jaw tightened at that statement and she pressed forward. "I'll be surrounded by people all day at the ranch. It can't get much safer than that."

"Except we don't know who it is yet."

"You just said you trust Casey."

"I do."

"Then if he's there all day with me, I'll be fine. You can do whatever you need to do—meet with Aaron, go the station—and then pick me up later. I'll be with someone the whole time."

Resignation filled his expression. "I suppose you're right."

"I am, so let's go."

During the drive through Estes Park and up along Highway 7, Britt avoided conversation by pulling out her camera and scrolling through the pictures. Just before they reached Highlands, she came across the ones she'd taken of Joel as he stretched out the kinks from being bent over the crime scene up near Lawn Lake for so long.

The exhaustion on his face attested to how hard he'd been working to solve the case. She wanted to reach out and soothe the lines from his forehead.

Realizing she was staring at a picture of him while he sat two feet away from her in the driver's seat, she flipped to the next one. Her stomach rebelled at the image of the bloody, mutilated elk, so she moved her thumb to the _delete_ button.

_Permanently delete this picture?_

She hesitated as Joel turned into the ranch resort driveway. "I have some pictures from up at Lawn Lake on my camera. They're of the scene while you, Randy and Dennis were all working. You want them? Otherwise, I'm going to delete them."

He slowed for a family of five crossing the lane to one of the guest cabins. "I've already got all my pictures, but I can still take a look at them. I'll get them off your card and give it back to you tonight."

"Thanks." She ejected the card and placed it in his outstretched palm.

She was still fiddling with the camera as he braked to a halt near the stables. Her first glance through the windshield brought a hand up to cover her whispered, " _Oh my God_."

When she realized Joel had come around to open her door, she slowly got out of the truck. Yesterday at the hospital, Mitch had told her the barn was a total loss, but she hadn't tried to imagine what it would look like.

Joel placed a hand on her shoulder as she stared beyond the ribbon of yellow crime-scene tape in disbelief. "You okay?"

She didn't reply. Everything was black, except for a couple spots near the middle where thin, wispy tendrils floated lazily into the air. That lingering scent of smoke and the reek of smoldering hay brought back the nightmare of last night. She covered her nose and mouth as she stared at the ruins.

The entire right side had collapsed into a heap of blackened debris. On the left, the row of stalls was still discernible in the iron framework that had withstood the flames. Charred pieces of wood clung to the iron, and in other places, boards that had snapped under the collapse of the roof above stuck up from the pile in stark relief against the trees and blue sky.

Mark walked over to join them from the main corral. He gave her a quick hug and then stepped back. "I didn't expect to see you here today. Shouldn't you be resting?"

His gaze shifted to the stitches on her forehead. Her hair in a ponytail to keep it out of the way unfortunately made the multi-colored purple and green bruise that much more visible.

"I'm rested out," she stated. "And if I'm not here, I'm sitting somewhere doing absolutely nothing. My head is fine, my shoulder is fine, and after everything that's happened, I really want to help."

He checked with Joel via a cocked eyebrow. Luckily, Joel did nothing more than shrug, and she suppressed her spurt of annoyance because she knew Mark was just concerned about her.

"Okay, then, you can work with Casey," he conceded. "He'll be back from his dad's place soon. Joel told you about him keeping the horses, right? We thought that'd be the safest place for them right now."

"That's good. Thank you."

"You guys are going to be here all day?" Joel asked. "I figured I'd be back about five."

"I've got a meeting at four-thirty, but Casey will be here."

He nodded, yet didn't appear completely reassured.

"I will be fine," Brittany insisted, despite her own reluctance to separate from him. "There are plenty of people around."

"We won't leave her alone," Mark promised.

"Good." His gaze transferred to hers. "I'll see you later then. Be careful."

Warmth deepened the golden flecks in his eyes. His voice held a note of intimacy that increased her pulse and squeezed her chest with emotion.

"I will."

Joel hesitated one more moment before reaching out to brush his fingers against her arm. Sizzling awareness skimmed across her skin even after he lowered his hand and started for his truck. She fisted her hands to keep from reaching out for him as she watched him leave.

His step faltered after three strides and he swung back around, eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

He looked like he was about to say something, but when he remained silent, her pulse kicked into second gear. "What?"

His frown deepened, and he shook his head. "Nothing. I'll see you at five."

Not caring if he saw her in the rearview mirror or not, she watched him until he drove out of sight, wishing her heart had listened to her head.

## Chapter 31

By three-thirty, Joel wanted to punch something. Aaron hadn't come up with any leads, and he could barely concentrate past the mental image of Brittany lying in bed, her blond hair shining as the morning sunlight slanted through the window. Yes, the sex had been phenomenal, but it was the whole package that'd done him in.

Leaving her with someone else today had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. He knew Mark and Casey would keep her safe, but it still made him uneasy that he wasn't the one by her side. Unfortunately, she'd been right at the cabin, when she'd said he wouldn't catch the bastard sitting there with her.

She'd been with him all day, and in less than two hours, she'd be standing before him, live in person. Tempting him. Making him want to say things he'd vowed never to say to a woman again.

He picked up a manila folder from the table behind his desk and a handful of printed photos fluttered to the ground. His muttered oath was more so at the pictures in his mind than the ones on the floor. Then again, it wasn't her fault he'd totally screwed up and fallen for her. So much so that he'd been appalled to realize at one point he almost hoped for a couple more nights at the cabin.

How frickin' messed up did he have to be to hope she remained in danger so she had to stay with him? She deserved so much better than that.

The thought only added to his irritation, and he bent to pick up the pictures. Seeing the crime scene from up near Lawn Lake reminded him of Brittany's photo card in his pocket. Wouldn't hurt to check out what she had on there and then get them deleted for her. More than ever, she didn't need to be reminded of what the man out there was capable of.

Tossing the pages from the floor on his desk with one hand, he fished the SD card from his pocket with the other, and inserted it into his laptop. Scrolling through the mini-icons of all the photos, he searched for the correct shots.

One of himself brought him up short. He clicked on the icon to enlarge it in the photo viewing program. What had she seen when she took the picture? What would she see now when she looked at it? After her obvious regret this morning, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that question.

He clicked the arrow button for the next photo. Studied it for a moment, and moved to the next. Hmm...something didn't look right.

It took another moment of examination to figure out it was the footprints. After clicking through the remainder of the photos Brittany had taken, he returned to those first two that had tripped his awareness. The footprints didn't add up.

The stack of prints that'd scattered on the floor lay right next to his computer. He pushed aside the top copies until he found the one he wanted. Holding it up next to his computer screen, he shifted his gaze from one to the other.

" _Son. Of. A. Bitch_."

There should be four distinct prints: the poacher's, his, Randy's and Dennis's. Instead, there were only three. He didn't want to jump to conclusions too fast, despite the obvious indications right in front of him. As he'd pointed out to Brittany once, it was a common tread, and one of the men may have purchased the same pair of hiking boots as the poacher.

He made his way to Ryan's office to access the time cards and helicopter flight logs, keeping an eye out for both men. He hadn't seen Dennis all day, but Randy had been around earlier that morning.

"Gifford or Mueller around?" he asked his boss.

Ryan barely glanced up from his computer. "Mueller's on night shift this week. Gifford left a little while ago. Said he wasn't feeling well."

Joel paused at the door. "You talk to him yourself?"

"Yeah. He looked like shit." Now Ryan peered over a pair of bifocals. "Why?"

"It's just...he seemed fine when I saw him earlier."

"Then I'd say whatever he had for lunch didn't agree with him."

Joel left it at that. He wasn't prepared to make any accusations just yet, even though his own gut was churning. When he returned to his office with the data, he made a call to Aaron.

Seeing as they'd spoken less than an hour ago, Thompson answered with a hopeful, "You find something?"

"We may have caught a break," Joel confirmed. "I'm going to send you some pictures, can you have your tech guys take a look at them, paying particular attention to the footprints? The first picture was taken before we started to process the scene. The second toward the end of processing."

"We'll get right on it."

"Good. I'm going to see if I can confirm my suspicion on my end."

"Keep me posted."

"Likewise."

Joel hung up and started tracking the schedules of both men to see if either had a work alibi for when the time of death had been estimated for each poached animal. Dennis had logged flying time in the chopper for each date except one. And the past three nights, he'd flown nighttime patrols on the opposite side of the park, including the night of the fire.

A heavy weight settled in the pit of his stomach. Still, he dialed Dennis's home, confirmed the time card, and let the man go back to sleep. Next, he called the man's night patrol partner, who also confirmed the alibi.

Which left Randy Gifford.

More often than not, Randy had been off duty at the time of each killing, including being off the evening of the fire. He recalled hanging up from his call with Brittany to find Randy standing in his doorway. The man had known he was going to the grocery store, had heard him tell Brittany he'd probably see her there, so he could've easily slashed her tires.

If he was the one who left the note at her apartment, he'd known her well enough to guess she'd want to check on her horse. He wouldn't have had to follow too close.

It pissed Joel off when he thought of Randy 'assisting' with his investigation all this time. He'd royally screwed up there, trusting the guy because Ryan had assigned the ranger to help him from the start. He didn't blame Ryan, he blamed himself for overlooking something he never should've missed.

Impotent fury doubled when he recalled Randy showing up at the hospital to check on Brittany after having attempted to burn them alive. His concern had appeared genuine at the time, and he'd managed to fool everyone.

Reining in his emotions, Joel gathered the paperwork and texted Aaron he was on his way over. His jaw ached by the time he strode into the sheriff's office to present the evidence. After Aaron reviewed everything, he led Joel to the desk of the man reviewing the emailed photos.

"You were spot on with those footprints," he said.

"See here?" The tech pointed to a digitally enhanced close-up of the photos side by side. "Notice how the tread on the left side of the heel is not so deep and there's a gouge from the sole?"

Aaron and Joel both leaned in for a closer look.

"It matches perfectly with this first photograph." The technician spun in his chair to face them with a solemn expression. "I'd say it's ninety-nine percent likely you've found your man."

"He left early today," Joel informed the officers. "Said he was sick."

"Want to come with me to go check?" Aaron offered.

"Hell yes."

"Figured you would."

Joel glanced at his watch as he got into his truck to follow the sheriff over to Randy's house. Seeing as he was supposed to pick up Brittany in twenty minutes, he pulled out his phone to call Mark, then swore when he remembered the stable manager's number was programmed into _his_ phone, not the loaner he was using from the police.

Aaron's squad car left the lot. A second and third car followed. Indecision made Joel hesitate. Once they took Gifford into custody, she'd be safe and it wouldn't matter if he was a few minutes late. Then again, right about now, he'd much rather see her face than Randy's.

He texted Aaron that he'd catch up to them later and made the turn for Highlands.

## Chapter 32

She shouldn't be watching the clock. Shouldn't be counting the minutes until Joel arrived. And yet...it was twenty-three minutes until five p.m. Mark had left for his meeting, everyone else had left at four, and she and Casey were feeding the horses before Joel picked her up.

Lifting one of the bales of hay Casey had brought back from his dad's place to tide them over until an emergency load arrived, she followed him into the main corral.

"So, this thing with Morgan, is it serious?"

She shrugged and tossed the bale into the feeding trough.

"He's very protective of you."

And she loved that about him. "He's just doing his job."

Casey laughed as he sliced the baling twine from both bales. "Park ranger duties do _not_ include being a bodyguard."

Colorado nudged her in the back and she moved out of his way. She ran her hand along the gelding's back before walking toward the gate.

"Come on, Britt, it's me."

"Why do you think I'm not talking?" she teased.

"Well, for the record, I like him."

She latched the gate after he'd gone through. "Yeah. So do I."

He grinned, then they both turned at the sound of an engine to see Randy's blue truck rolling to a stop in front of the charred remains of the barn. As he stepped out of his truck, he stared at the pile of rubble. "Wow."

They'd both heard the same thing from a ton of gawkers all day long, so Britt skipped over his expression of disbelief. "Hey, Randy, what's up?"

He shifted his attention, his gaze skimming her stitches. "I'm here to pick you up."

Her pulse skipped a beat. Confusion followed. "Joel said he'd be here at five."

"I know, but he got caught up with Aaron following a new lead. Instead of making you wait, he asked me to swing by. I'll drop you off at the ranger station and you can wait for him there."

"What were you doing up this way?" Casey asked.

Randy grimaced. "Another ram was found near the overnight camp last night. Joel caught me on my way back to town."

Finding out Randy had conveniently been in the area didn't lessen her disappointment that Joel had pushed her off on someone else. Had he guessed the depth of her feelings and now planned to distance himself to make his inevitable departure easier?

She put the thoughts out of her mind and turned to Casey. "He's been helping Joel with the investigation from the start."

"Good." His gaze cut toward what was left of the barn. "The sooner this is over, the better."

"I think we can all agree on that."

Britt crossed to the passenger side of Randy's truck, then paused to look back at Casey with the door open. "You headed home?"

"In a little bit. Jon and I are gonna grab a beer at the bar. You guys want to join us?"

She shot Randy a questioning glance. He was never one to turn down a drink, and she now found herself not quite so anxious to see Joel.

"Probably better if we get going," Randy declined. "Wouldn't want Morgan to send out the cavalry."

Casey grinned across the hood at her. "And he would for this one."

"Shut up." She climbed in and slammed the door. One hard shove clicked her seatbelt in place. The only cavalry she wanted was Joel, and he hadn't come. Maybe she really _was_ just part of his job.

Randy started the truck and executed a three point turn. Despite wanting to keep her mouth shut, she found herself asking, "Did Joel say how long he was going to be?"

"I don't think too long." They passed a row of guest cabins, crawling along at about five miles per hour. He glanced over again, his gaze touching on her bruised forehead once again. "How are you feeling today?"

"I've got a little bit of a headache that comes and goes, but that's about it."

"Good." He sent her a smile across the console. "You know, I have to say, I've missed you this summer. We haven't gotten a chance to catch a movie together, or play mini-golf, or anything."

"I know, it's been a crazy summer so far, hasn't it?"

"It'd be nice if things could get back to normal once he's gone."

"Who?" Britt shot him a glance. "Joel? I thought you guys got along?"

Randy shrugged. They'd reached the end of the driveway, and he flipped the left turn signal on. Estes Park was to the right. A bell went off in her head. _He should be turning right_.

"Where are you going?"

"I want to show you something."

"We're supposed to go meet Joel." She couldn't help the suspicion in her voice.

Randy gave her a measured look. The tiny sliver of apprehension that had lingered since the moment he'd stated he was there to pick her up exploded into full-fledged alarm. When he stepped on the gas to make the left turn, icy shards of fear splintered in her veins. She frantically sought for the release of her seatbelt while reaching for the door handle.

"Don't."

The clunk of the locks made her jump. The seatbelt released, but with the engine running and the vehicle in drive, her door refused to open. As she searched for the lock, Randy's rough grip on her wrist dragged her halfway across the middle console.

"Leave it alone."

Her involuntary gasp of pain gentled his hold and she jerked free. Rubbing the sting from her red skin, she pressed against the door and glared at him. "What are you doing, Randy?"

"I just want to talk."

"We can talk at the ranch. Or at Billy's. We could grab dinner."

His laugh sent a chill down her spine. "Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

No, of course not. They rounded the second curve past the ranch, and she watched it disappear in his side view mirror. Her heart raced as she battled rising panic. Every second took her farther away from safety. From Joel.

She flinched away when Randy extended his hand and demanded, "Give me your phone. I don't want you trying to call anyone."

"I don't have it."

"Don't lie to me, Britt."

The expression on his face terrified her. He braked and swerved to the side of the road so fast she felt like a ragdoll being tossed back and forth. Her head bounced off the passenger side window, startling a cry of pain. Holding a hand to her stitches, she blinked away tears. "I swear, I don't have it. I—I lost it in the fire."

That lie convinced him to believe her. And maybe the tears. For a brief moment, she thought she glimpsed concern in his eyes, but before she could be sure, he checked his mirror to pull back out onto the road.

How long before Joel arrived at the ranch? Had Casey noticed which way Randy had turned out of the resort driveway?

"Why him?"

Randy's unexpected question caught her off guard. "I don't know what you mean."

"Why not me? We've known each other since that first summer."

"Yes, when we decided to be _friends_."

" _You_ decided," he accused. "I was going to ask you out again."

_What?_ He was upset about that one date they'd had? A date so long ago, so seemingly insignificant, she hadn't even thought to mention it to Joel. "I...I don't know what to say. You never said anything."

He was checking his mirrors much the same as Joel had the other night. She looked too, wishing to God someone was following this time. But it was too early. The digital clock on the dashboard read four-forty-eight. Joel wouldn't discover her missing for ten to fifteen minutes yet. Even then, how would he ever find her?

"I thought I had more time."

Randy's murmur snagged in her whirling thoughts. _More time?_ She fought to keep her own breathing under control as his words sunk in. Phrases from the note echoed in her mind. _So disappointed in you_. _I expected more from you—hoped for more._ Oh, God.

"It's been six summers," she said. "And I wasn't even supposed to be here for this one."

"But you came back." He smiled. It abruptly disappeared as his knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. "You came back and hooked up with _him_. I can't believe you've become like every other slut around here."

"It wasn't like that. You know me better than that."

"I thought I did." He slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. "Damn it, Britt, it should've been _me_."

She flinched at the violence in his outburst, clinging to the door handle as the truck swerved. He brought it back under control and sucked in an audible breath. Somehow, she had to keep him calm and rational until she could figure out how to get away from him.

"I killed the first one for you, you know."

_The first one?_ Did he mean the bighorn sheep?

"After you left last year, I—"

"No, don't. Please, I don't want to know."

"Of course you don't. Because my sacrifices mean nothing to you."

"That's not true. I appreciate all the good times we had these past summers."

"Which is why you didn't even give me the time of day once Morgan was on the scene."

She kept silent on the irony that Joel never would've come to Estes Park if Randy hadn't started poaching the sheep.

Tension vibrated between them as he slowed and made a right turn into the parking lot entrance for the Longs Peak Trailhead.

"Why are we here?"

"I want to show you what I did for you. You wouldn't believe how good it feels to hold the power of life and death in your hands."

The quiet, reverent words sunk into her brain and unleashed a tide of panic. He was going to kill her. Why else would he bring her here instead of getting as far away from Estes Park as possible? Her lungs refused to fill with air as she realized she'd never see her family or friends again. Or Joel.

_Joel._

She latched onto a vision of him like it was a life preserver. His voice filled her head. _Calm down and think, Brittany. You're strong. You can do this._

The panic receded enough that she could breathe again. Randy stopped the truck in front of the chained gate which blocked the lane some twenty yards in, but any hope of escape died when he pulled a gun from the compartment on his door.

He got out, weapon pointed at her in one hand, bolt cutters in the other. He motioned her toward him. "Come across the seat and get out on my side."

Once she did, he had her lay face first on the ground while he cut the chain securing the gate. Then he made her crawl back into the passenger seat from his side so he could drive through the open gate. They repeated the process while he shut the gate and rearranged the chain so it appeared to still be secured.

Each time she'd lain on the ground, she discreetly searched for a rock big enough to use as a weapon. Each time she came up empty. Back in the truck, he drove through the trees to the parking lot and shut off the truck in the spot next to the start of the trail. He motioned her across to his side again.

She took her time and paused in the driver's seat, giving herself precious extra seconds to figure out what to do. Whatever happened, she couldn't let him get her into the woods. _Keep him talking. Delay as much as possible. Play on his feelings._

"Randy, you don't have to do this."

"Out."

"Just let me go. Please," she pleaded, her voice soft and gentle like when she was working with the mustang. Surely he realized he'd never get away with something like this? "You can leave Estes Park. Start over somewhere else. If you go now, you'll have enough of a head start to disappear before anyone starts looking for me."

He hesitated, then shook his head as his expression hardened. "You should've told me we could leave together, Brittany. I might have bought that."

"Randy—"

"Shut up. I know I don't have to do this, I _want_ to. Out here, I call the shots." His voice dropped a notch. "I decide which one. _I_ decide. If I want it to end fast, I cut deep and the blood all gushes out. But a shallow cut lets it flow slow and smooth. Toward the end, I can see each individual heartbeat..."

Like she could feel hers right now. The vivid picture his words painted made her stomach roll with nausea. She forced herself to remain calm, to think clearly, and not show her fear.

"They're panicked at first. Frightened." He paused and forced her to meet his gaze. Then he smiled. "But it fades from their eyes as they accept that I hold their life in my hands."

He was not right in the head.

"Move it. Out."

Inside the vehicle, she had no hope of defending herself before he overpowered her. Outside might provide better opportunity. And a chance to run.

She climbed from the truck, her gaze scanning the area the moment she moved past him. Near the edge of the trail were a number of lose rocks, at least one of which was large enough. One quick glance revealed him about three steps behind her.

Raising a hand to her head, she swayed while holding out the other as if trying to catch her balance.

"Britt?"

"My head hurts." With a low moan, she stumbled a few steps, then let her legs collapse beneath her. She fell in a sitting position and swept her right hand across the uneven ground. _There_. No, not big enough. Damn. Her heart was beating so fast it was hard to catch her breath, and Randy was coming closer.

_This one_.

He leaned in, his hand outstretched. She listed to the side, ignoring the ache in her sore shoulder to put her weight on her hand. Her fingers clenched on the rock, the rough surface biting into her skin as she secured her grip.

"Britt?" Randy squatted in front of her. "Are you okay?"

She steeled herself against the unexpected concern in his voice. _Hesitate and you die._

## Chapter 33

Joel drove along Highway 7, alternating between pushing the speed limit on the winding roads and easing up on the gas. He was impatient to see Brittany again now that the case was solved, yet scared shitless over what to do next.

Did he dare tell her how he felt? If he did, what did he expect would happen? She'd stay here? Would _he_ stay here? It surprised him how good that idea actually sounded. They could buy a ranch, make a name for themselves raising and training horses.

Except Chicago still loomed as a possibility. He'd been there for a convention last year and hated it. If she wanted to return home to work with her father, would he be able to handle the city?

God, listen to him, trying to figure out what they'd do when he didn't even know if she felt the same way. He might tell her he loved her and she'd walk away. Like his mother. Like Deanna.

_Don't think about that right now_.

He eased up on the gas again until he could pass the slower car ahead of him. As he cleared back into his own lane, the cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He dug it out and thumbed the button to connect the call because only one person had the number. "You got him?"

"Where are you right now?"

He tensed at the urgency in the sheriff's voice. "Couple miles from Highlands. Why?"

"Casey just called your cell phone. Gifford left with Britt about five minutes ago."

_Oh, God_. White hot alarm struck like a bolt of lightning. She was supposed to be safe there. "How the hell did that happen?"

"He told them you were going to be late and that you asked him to pick her up. Mentioned me and a new lead we were working on."

He pounded a fist on the steering wheel. "And since he's been helping me with the investigation all along, they bought it."

"Casey noticed he made a left turn when they left the ranch and called you to verify, which is how I got the call. Fortunately, Gifford didn't disable his phone. I had an officer put a trace on it before we left the station, and GPS puts him about three miles west of the ranch. The signal stopped moving a couple minutes ago."

Adrenaline jammed his foot down on the gas. "Sounds like the Long's Peak Trailhead. I'm on my way."

"I'm not far behind you. Be careful."

He disconnected the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket. Dread settled deep in his gut as he blew by Highlands and kept going. The only reason he could think of that Randy would take her into the park had him pushing the limit of control with his vehicle on the sharp mountain turns. Visions of the animals from the past month turned his stomach, making him nauseous.

He never should have left her side. If something happened to her, he'd never forgive himself.

The miles rushed by, yet it seemed forever until he slammed on the brakes for the turn. Dust billowed up as his vehicle slid to a stop, his frantic gaze registering details. The gate was still chained. How had Randy gotten in? Where was he now?

Joel couldn't see the parking lot through the trees and indecision crashed against urgency. Did he ram the gate and possibly alert Randy with the noise, or did he run in on foot?

A flash of movement through the trees caught his eye and he recognized the gray sweatshirt.

_Brittany!_

Heart lodged in his throat, Joel jumped out of the truck and rushed around the door to vault over the gate. It swung loose on his way over and sent him stumbling. Regaining his balance, he sprinted toward her along the road. She was nearly jerked off her feet when her long ponytail snagged on some brush, but she wrenched free and kept running.

When she spotted him, her sob of relief ripped into him. Two more strides and she was in his arms. He crushed her close, then in the next moment pushed her back to arm's length. His heart jolted at the sight of blood spatter staining her skin and clothes.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

Her head jerked in a nod, then switched to a no as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Where is he?"

"I hit him with a rock," she gasped, pointing behind her. "Knocked him out by the trail."

Unless she bashed his skull in, he wouldn't be unconscious for long. Joel grasped her by the shoulders and spun them both around to put his body between her and the threat.

"Get in my truck and lock the doors," he instructed as he pulled his gun. "Aaron's on the way, but if anything happens to me before he gets here, take the truck and get out of here."

Her already wide eyes went even wider. "No."

"Yes." He gave her a push. "I mean it, _go._ "

She began to back up. He watched her for one extra second—

A violent jolt stabbed between his shoulder blades. The gun report followed a split-second later, along with Brittany's scream. Both echoed in his ears as his next breath was arrested by searing pain spreading through his back and chest. He lurched forward while desperately trying to spin his body around to face Randy. He fired off a round and saw the bastard dive for cover.

Two arms caught his fall. Brittany grunted as they stumbled to the ground together. God, what was she doing?

"Get to the truck," he groaned, blindly firing another round to keep Randy down. "You can get out of here."

"Not without you."

She glanced behind them, but he knew he'd never make it to the truck. He tried to brace with his left arm and push them toward the trees with his legs. She pulled as he pushed. Wetness soaked his back. Every movement was like a knife being plunged into his body. Each breath he sucked in twisted that knife. She whispered a tearful apology with every moan of agony that fell from his lips.

In the cover of the trees, he grit his teeth and managed to peer around for a glimpse of their stalker. He didn't see anything moving. The only thing he heard was the labored breaths he sucked in through his nose in a futile attempt to control his breathing and lessen the pain.

"I don't see him," Brittany whispered.

"Stay down." The order sounded more like a groan.

A twig snapped off to their right. Then he heard a faint rustle of leaves. Brittany's breath hitched. Joel focused.

"Shoulda stayed away, Morgan."

Randy's voice made her flinch. Joel met her worried green eyes and mouthed the word _down._ Slow and quiet, she flattened herself to the ground.

_Come on, you bastard, say something else._ He was losing strength by the second and prayed he didn't pass out before it was too late.

He rotated his head to the right and listened. Another twig snap. Closer this time. He approximated the sound about fifteen yards away.

" _Britt-nee_."

The sing-song taunt spiked Joel's adrenaline and gave him a fix on his target. He rolled his body over hers while extending his arms for a single shot. A split second before Randy raised his gun, Joel's finger squeezed the trigger. Two shots exploded.

Darkness on the edge of his vision mushroomed and took over his world as Brittany's scream vibrated his eardrums.

## Chapter 34

Please, God, let _him live_.

Britt had repeated those words in her head a million times from the moment Joel's body went limp over hers. Casey's voice had cut off her horrified scream. He'd rolled Joel off her, assured her he was still breathing, then helped Aaron get him into the squad car. They laid him on his stomach and she knelt on the floor to keep pressure on the wound while the sheriff raced to the ER with his sirens blaring.

Casey stayed behind to wait for backup to deal with Randy. She thought she heard someone say he was still alive, but she wasn't sure and didn't really care.

As soon as the emergency team in Estes Park stabilized Joel's vitals, he was loaded onto a medical transport helicopter and transferred to the level two trauma center in Boulder for surgery.

She wasn't allowed to ride in the chopper, and Aaron pulled her from the room, promising to drive her himself. Her emotions nearly exploded when he'd made a stop at his house, but once she spotted her blood-soaked reflection in the mirror, she understood.

Aaron's wife lent her some clothes, and she'd never showered faster in her life. They were on the road again in less than twenty minutes, and had been sitting in the Boulder Community Hospital for the past three hours.

Watching the clock.

Waiting for news.

Casey and Jayne had arrived with Ryan Wagner at some point. After giving her hugs, the men moved off to the side to talk to Aaron. As Jayne sat with her, she listened to the guys and gathered that Randy had been shot twice; once by Joel and once by Casey. He'd also been flown to the trauma unit for surgery and it seemed surreal that doctors were fighting side by side to save the man she loved and the man who'd tried to kill him.

Beside her, Jayne made a few attempts to talk, but Britt shook her head and stared at the wall on the opposite side of the room. A water color painting of spring flowers in a mountain meadow hung there, slightly crooked. The colors all blended together, creating a warm, peaceful effect. She wanted to rip it from the wall as the second hand of the clock ticked in its muted, maddening, never-ending circle.

A short while later, Gina entered the waiting room. From the corner of her eye, Britt saw Jayne shake her head. Gina didn't speak a word; she simply sat down beside her and laid her hand on Britt's back as night fell outside the windows. She was grateful her friends seemed to understand. Not that she didn't appreciate their support, but she was so numb at the moment, she only had the energy for those five little words.

_Please, God, let him live._

A thought occurred to her out of the blue and she straightened, startling the others. "Did anyone call his dad?"

Ryan nodded and started to speak, but Britt's attention shifted as a doctor in scrubs came around the corner. She shot to her feet and hurried forward.

"Are you all here for Joel Mor—"

"Yes," she blurted before he could finish.

"Are any of you immediate family?"

She swallowed hard as Ryan stepped up beside her. "No, we're friends. His father is on his way from Montana but won't be here for a few hours yet."

The man nodded, swept his calm gaze over the group that included a uniformed sheriff and park ranger, then settled back on Britt. Her heart thudded hard in the agonizing seconds before he spoke again. "He made it through the surgery just fine."

Relief weakened her knees and thankfully, someone offered her support from behind.

"He was very lucky—if the bullet had gone just a few inches lower, I don't know that he would've made it to the hospital. Right now, he's being transferred to a room in ICU. I'm not sure how long it'll take for him to wake up, but you're welcome to sit with him while you wait. I can take you up there if you'd like?"

"Yes, please."

Now she turned to the others, feeling like she should explain. Gina pulled her in for a quick hug. "Go. Don't worry about us."

"Thank you."

Aaron went with her as she followed the doctor. He put a hand on her shoulder when they entered the room. Joel's eyes were closed, and his dark hair stood out against the white sheets. Beside the bed, a heart monitor beeped a steady rhythm while tubes and wires snaked from his body to various other machines.

At the sight of him lying so still, tears rushed forward to blur her vision. She blinked furiously, and dashed the moisture away as she stepped forward to reach for his hand.

Aaron squeezed her shoulder. "He'll make it through this."

"I know." But her smile was tremulous at best. She should've told him she loved him last night.

God, was it only last night? It felt like a lifetime had passed in the last twenty-four hours.

A nurse entered and spoke quietly to Aaron. He glanced outside the room, then turned back to Britt. "Sounds like Randy also made it through surgery, so I have to sort some things out with his arrest and arrange to get him transferred to a prison hospital as soon as he can be transported. Will you be okay here by yourself?"

She hated being in the same hospital as the man who'd done this to Joel. "I'm fine. Just get him out of here as soon as you can."

He pulled her in for a quick hug. "He'll be under twenty-four hour guard if I have to sit there myself."

"Thank you. For everything."

After he left, Britt carefully dragged the chair from by the window and positioned it alongside the bed. Then she sat and took Joel's hand in hers. Comparing his large hand to her smaller one, she thought about how well they fit together, how natural it felt. Her gaze lifted to rove over his face. He was pale beneath his tan, his hair a tousled mess. Used to seeing a strong, capable man, it was hard to fathom this helpless state.

She talked to him, though if anyone had asked her later what she'd said, she couldn't have told them. At first, she'd started out watching his face, waiting for any sign he heard her voice. Then the last nurse who'd come in to check on him had turned off the sound on his heart monitor in case she wanted to sleep. She was surprised at how much she missed that steady, reassuring little beep. As the night wore on, she found herself watching the mesmerizing spike and drop of the little green line.

A noise registered on her consciousness and she blinked. Realizing she'd fallen asleep on the side of Joel's bed, she sat up. Before she could lift her hands to rub her eyes, his fingers tightened on her right hand. Her gaze shot to his. Those golden-brown eyes were open and focused on her in the dim illumination from the light behind his bed.

She rose up, gripping his hand in hers as she leaned over the bed with a smile. "Hey."

His lips moved, then his eyes closed. She didn't catch what he'd said and leaned closer.

"What?"

"Scared." The word rasped from between his dried lips as if his throat was coated in sandpaper. He coughed, frowned, and let out a low groan.

"Don't talk," she urged. "Everything is okay now."

His grip tightened again. His eyes opened and searched her face, worry darkening the gold flecks she loved so much.

"You...screamed."

"For you. I thought—" The emotion of that terrifying moment choked her voice. She laid her free hand against his stubble-covered jaw. "I'm fine. You had surgery and are going to be fine. You _better_ be fine."

"Giff...?"

"Randy's in custody."

Relief seemed to drain what little energy he had. His hand went slack and his eyes closed. _No, not yet._

"Joel?"

His lashes lifted half-way.

"I just wanted to...well, I wanted to let you know..." His eyelids began to drift shut again. She was losing him. "I love you."

The barest hint of a smile curved his mouth before his lashes rested against his cheeks. She waited a moment, then sunk down to the chair as disappointment flooded through her. Okay, she knew her timing sucked, and she shouldn't have expected more than that, but damn it...she'd hoped.

She swallowed against the lump forming in her throat and began to sit back. The moment her hand started to pull away, Joel's wrist twisted, and his fingers gripped hers with unexpected strength. She stilled. As his hold remained, she smiled, and laid her head back on the side of the bed.

## Chapter 35

God, he was tired. So tired, he just wanted to sleep until noon. And it felt like he'd been hit in the chest by a truck. The low, insistent beep of an alarm convinced him to open his eyes. His surroundings were so alien it took him a full minute to realize he was in a hospital. Worse than that, he had no clue how he'd gotten there.

A slow turn of his head to the left revealed his 'alarm' was a heart monitor. He turned his head toward the sunlit windows and paused at the sight of his father dozing in the chair next to the bed.

"Da-d?" His voice came out in a hoarse rasp, and no more than a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Dad?"

Jack Morgan sat up with a start. Worry lines around his mouth eased as he came to stand by the bed. "About time you woke up."

"Why are you here?" he asked with confusion.

"You were shot." His dad grasped his hand tight. "Don't you remember?"

Explained why he hurt so bad. Joel stared straight ahead as the scene in the woods came back in a dizzying rush. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. The last thing he remembered, Randy had been lifting his gun toward him and Brittany.

He'd heard gunshots. One from him, one from Randy. She'd screamed.

_Please, God...no._ He lifted his head. "Where's Brittany? Please tell me she's okay—"

His dad squeezed his hand. "She went to get something to eat."

Relief tingled through his body. "I need to see her." He grit his teeth and started to pull the covers off so he could get up.

A restraining hand on his shoulder held him down. "She'll be back soon—"

"Stay in that bed."

He whipped his head toward the door. There she stood, gorgeous as ever with her blond hair cascading in loose curls over her shoulders. Seeing her, alive and okay, he slumped back against the pillow. The ache in his chest had nothing to do with the bullet they'd dug out.

She walked into the room, coffee cup in hand, smile on her face. Both of them were for his father.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. "Dad, can you give us a minute?"

"Sure thing." His dad accepted the cup from her and leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, darlin'."

Joel watched her watch him leave, then she turned those green eyes on him. The moment his gaze met hers, another memory blindsided him.

Brittany, leaning over him, holding his hand.

_I love you._

Had she said the words, or had he been dreaming? Pain killer induced hallucination?

She stood beside the bed now. Within reach, but so far away. "The doctor's going to want to see you."

He didn't say a word. Just watched her and realized how tired she looked. She'd been through a lot the past couple of days, and she'd still managed to save his life by dragging him into the cover of the woods.

She gave a self-conscious smile, confusion in her eyes. "What?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Yesterday." He frowned toward the windows. "I was only out through the night, right?" He turned back to find her watching him now. Speculation shadowed her eyes. Was she wondering if he remembered?

"Yes, just the one night. But I'm the one who should thank _you_."

"For what? I got shot. Probably wouldn't be here if not for you."

She dropped her gaze to take hold of his hand. "You got shot and _still_ kept me safe."

"Not without your help."

"Sounds like we make a good team."

He tightened his fingers around hers. "We do."

Her gaze met his, and his pulse kicked up, making the monitor beep faster. Ignoring that, it was the perfect moment to tell her how he felt—until the doctor walked in. He liked that she didn't move away when the man came to stand on the opposite side of the bed.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Morgan. I'm Dr. Edwards. Nice to have you with us today."

"It's nice to be here. Relatively speaking."

The doctor smiled as he transferred his gaze to the heart monitor while a nurse handed him the patient chart. He was an older gentleman, graying, but with a full head of hair. "Your heart rate was up when I came in, but now I can see why."

He liked that Brittany blushed at that comment.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Sore."

"That's to be expected. And I'm sorry, but I'm about to add to that."

He wasn't kidding. By the time the man completed his examination and left, Joel could barely keep his eyes open. Sounded like he was definitely going to live, but he'd have to sleep first. He'd rather talk to Brittany.

As if she understood, she reached to brush his hair from his forehead and ordered, "Get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

And she was.

The sun was setting when he opened his eyes to see her dozing in the chair his father had occupied earlier. He watched her for a few minutes, then groped for the button to raise the head of the bed to a bit more of a sitting position. The noise woke her, and she smiled when she saw he was awake.

"Hey."

The darn heart monitor increased speed. No way to hide his anxiety, so he ignored it and dove right in. "I know you were here last night."

Awareness shimmered to life in her eyes as she got out of the chair. "I was. All night."

"And I woke up."

"Once."

She was killing him with her short answers. He lifted his hand out of the way as she sat on the edge of his bed, then set it back down to rest on her leg. She covered his hand with hers—

"Mr. Morgan, are you doing okay?"

He laid his head back, frowning in the direction of the nurse hovering in the doorway. "I'd be better if you could take this thing off me." He gestured toward the monitor as the woman entered the room. "I can pretty much guarantee it's not going to stay normal for the next couple minutes."

She glanced between the two of them with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, but that's not possible."

As his frown deepened, Brittany squeezed his fingers. "Last night the nurse turned the sound off. Can you at least do that?"

The woman nodded and reached to flip a switch on the machine, silencing the elevated beeps. She took a moment to review a few other readouts, then faced them with a stern warning. "Just remember, you are still in intensive care and we are monitoring everything from the nurse's station."

Once she left, Joel shifted his attention back to Brittany, who sat silent. Smiling.

He did not smile as he picked up right where he'd been interrupted, his nervousness suddenly gone. "You said something to me last night."

"Yes."

He turned his hand to twine their fingers together. "Are you going to say it again?"

"Do you want me to?"

The teasing note in her voice made him tug her closer. "Every day. And I'll say it right back—I love you, Brittany."

Tears filled her eyes. "And I love you."

Now _he_ smiled. "I know."

She laughed and leaned in to press her lips to his. He wanted to kiss her back, but the whole hospital bed and wires and getting shot really put a crimp in his ability to kiss her the way a man should kiss the woman he loved. On top of that, the chaste brush of her lips only left him wanting more.

When he protested, she argued, "Relax. I can't tire you out five minutes after you wake up. We'll have plenty of time when you're feeling better."

He leaned his head back on the pillow, happier than he'd ever been in his life. After a moment, he realized while they would have plenty of time, he still had questions he wanted answered sooner rather than later.

Rolling his head in her direction, he asked, "Remember that night we first met? When I called you a city girl?"

"Oh, I remember. You said it as if there was something wrong with me."

"And you said, _'Not in my heart_.'"

"That's right."

He dropped his gaze to their joined hands. "So..."

"Are you trying to ask if I'm going back to Chicago?"

"Yes."

"You know, we don't have to talk about this _right_ now."

_Shit_. Had she already made her decision?

"Look at me," she said.

He did.

"I'm not going back to Chicago, Joel. My heart's with you. Always. Wherever your job may go."

"You said you wouldn't want to travel that much."

A shrug lifted her shoulders. "I'll deal with it."

"I'll deal with the city if that's what you really want."

She shook her head. "Even if I hadn't met you, I think I'd stay here."

Relief lifted weight off his shoulders. "Good. Because I'm quitting the park system."

She drew back in surprise. "But I thought you loved your job."

"I love you more."

"Oh, no. Don't be doing that for me."

He took a deep breath, then wished he hadn't because it hurt too bad. Concern clouded her eyes, but once the pain subsided, he offered a reassuring smile. "I love parts of my job, but honestly, I've been seriously thinking about this for a couple weeks now, and I've been restless for months before that. I'd like to put down roots and want to know what you think about the idea of buying a ranch."

"A ranch?" she echoed.

He nodded. "I thought we could breed and train horses here in Colorado. Or anywhere, really, so long as you're at my side so you can tell me every day how much you love me."

As she stared at him, the initial shock in her expression morphed into hope. "What are you saying?"

What was he saying? The answer took only a second to come out of his mouth.

"Marry me. Be my wife and it won't matter where we live. Colorado, Chicago, wherever makes you happy. All I know is, I don't want to risk losing you ever again."

Tears shimmered in her eyes again as she leaned in to rest her forehead against his. "Right here makes me happy."

"We can't live in a hospital," he whispered.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do," he confirmed with a grin. "So, that's a yes?"

"On one condition."

"Seriously? I'm lying in a hospital bed and you're going to put a condition on my marriage proposal?"

"Yes." She looked into his eyes and very seriously said, "I'd like us to be friends."

He wanted to laugh, but it would hurt too much. Plus, they already were and she knew it. A mock sigh of resignation only hurt a little. "Fine, but if we're going to be friends, I've got a condition of my own."

Her gaze narrowed, then she laughed. "I bet _you_ want benefits."

He grinned. " _That_ is a bet you'd win."

She gave him a sexy smile. "In more ways than one."

 *

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Next up in the Colorado Trust Series

_Trust makes all the difference when love and danger collide._

### Trust by Design

Book 2

" _Sizzling, sensual, spicy, sweet—Ms. Netzel dazzles her readers with a perfect romance in the midst of danger_." ~ Casey Clifford, award winning romantic suspense author

_Cinderella and Prince Charming...brought together by chance, or design?_

Interior Designer Gina Allen is flat broke thanks to a shady assistant who didn't pay the taxes. Now she has no choice but to accept a job from the very rich, very handsome CEO Dean Daley—even though he's accused her of conspiring to steal his software designs.

_Keep your friends close and your enemies closer—_ that's why Dean hires his rival's ex-girlfriend. If he can use her to prove Jack is behind the spiraling downfall of his company, he might be able to turn things around before losing everything.

Dean, however, doesn't count on Gina being everything he never expected, or his heart being in more danger than his business. Will the trust they've built be enough to keep them together—or will an unexpected betrayal tear them apart...and possibly cost them their lives?

### Excerpt:

Chapter 1

"I am not going to kiss a complete stranger," Gina Allen declared. She frowned at her friend as if she were crazy, and not just half-drunk as the obnoxious club music swelled around them. The popular Denver hotspot wasn't as crowded as she'd seen it in the past, but the Club 9 DJ always played like it was a record night for attendance.

"Why not?" Jayne demanded. "Jackson's moved on—show him you have, too."

A glance toward Britt Morgan for support netted her nothing more than a commiserating smile. Sure, great. Being that she was married with a new baby, her beautiful blond friend didn't have to worry about some absurd dare.

Or more likely, she also wanted her to pick a hot guy and kiss him.

So much for a fun Girls Night Out. Gina lifted her wine glass, half-hiding behind it as she cast a surreptitious glance toward the back of the club where her ex-boyfriend was getting all hot and heavy with her former assistant. She'd found out this morning when Grace quit that the cheating jerk had moved on about six months _before_ they broke up last month.

Hell, she'd found out a lot of things this morning, but none of them were a good enough reason to kiss someone she'd never met. Who did that? Who _dared_ someone to do that?

Her buzzed idiot of a friend, that's who.

Jayne's heart was in the right place, but a kiss wouldn't pull Gina's business from the brink of bankruptcy, and keep her in her rented office space. It wouldn't erase the fact she'd swallowed her pride this morning and asked her parents for a loan to pay the self-employment income taxes Grace had overlooked, only to have them respond with the proverbial ' _I told you so_.'

Then again, they'd been waiting for GAllen Designs to fail for two years; she should've known better than to call them. The only thing decent about that part of her day was getting to say hello to Maria.

"Gross!" Jayne turned away from the exhibitionist couple and leaned in toward Gina until her brunette hair fell forward into her eyes. "Isn't there just a tiny part of you that would like to stick a knife in him and twist?"

"How does me kissing a stranger twist anything when he's..." She trailed off at the sight of Jackson's tongue stuck in Grace's ear. His professed dislike of public displays of affection seemed to have disappeared along with his morals. She'd like to twist something on him all right. Good and hard.

The vindictive thought surprised her, but before she could analyze why, Jayne waved her hand, demanding Gina's attention.

"He's doing it on purpose. You should've seen the expression on his face when they came in earlier. He saw your reaction before you turned away, and I'm telling you, he gloated."

She frowned and set her wine down. "What?"

"He's glad you're upset."

Her gaze narrowed. He was still mad because he blamed _her_ for breaking up with _him._ If she'd know about his infidelity, they'd have been over long before she'd discovered he'd passed off some of her programming work as his own. Spoiled jerk needed to take responsibility for his own actions.

Thinking of the break-up brought all her doubts back. Was that the only reason he'd been with her for the past two years? To use her degree in computer software development while pretending to support her dream of being an interior decorator?

Britt leaned close. "Don't let him get to you."

Too late for that. He'd gotten into her head a long time ago, undermining her confidence until she barely recognized herself anymore. Even now, with his out of character actions on full display, she couldn't help comparing herself to the woman he'd chosen over her. Her bleached-blond former assistant was tall, leggy, and possessed an hourglass figure men rented x-rated videos to view.

On the flip side stood Gina; short and slim, and the only significant curves she could lay claim to were in her shoulder-length, auburn hair.

"Listen, the longer you sit here, the more convinced he's going to be that he's won," Jayne said. "There's plenty of hot men here tonight, so I say just pick someone and go do it. Tell her, Britt."

Inviting a second opinion, Gina raised her eyebrows at the woman who'd been her friend since her first summer in Colorado.

Britt laughed. "I'm not going to tell you to go plant one on some random guy."

"Thank you."

"But I will say, I really miss Bodacious Burgundy."

_Bodacious Burgundy?_ Her eyebrows rose higher. She'd gone back to her natural hair color at Jackson's insistence that it was more professional. Granted, it had made a difference as she built her client base, but when her friend's green gaze locked with hers across the table, her pulse picked up speed.

Jayne looked between the two of them with obvious confusion. "You want her to dye her hair again?"

Britt didn't have to answer for Gina to understand the comment had nothing to do with hair dye and everything to do with the fearless person she'd been back then. Someone who followed her dreams and didn't let anyone else pull her down. If she was being completely honest with herself, she missed that person, too.

When another over-the-shoulder glance caught Jackson's hand brushing Grace's breast, she downed the rest of the liquid in her glass. It made her sick to think she'd wasted two years of her life with him.

Britt was right. Even Jayne was right, in a roundabout way. And while kissing a stranger probably wouldn't make the jerk feel bad—right now, it might make _her_ feel better.

She straightened in her seat and scanned the club patrons nearby, searching for a prospective candidate as the heavy base vibrated in her chest.

Too desperate looking.

Too old.

With someone.

Geeky glasses.

Slimy smile.

Too much hair product.

Married.

Too much leather.

Too—

She stopped short as her scan collided with a dark, intense gaze from fifteen feet away at the bar. The club lighting didn't allow her to see the exact color of the man's irises, but his thick lashes and prominent eyebrows added to the mysterious, brooding effect of his eyes. If the rest of him were half as gorgeous as his eyes...

Her gaze flicked up, then swept down nice and slow.

At least six feet of sexy.

His slightly-curly, brown hair was a tad shaggy, but it worked on him. Added to his rugged good looks. A light blue T-shirt stretched across a wide chest, and hip-hugging blue jeans encased his long legs.

_Perfect._ Kissing him could definitely make her feel better.

When she lifted her gaze and saw a smug smile on his lips, she realized she'd just given him a blatant once over. Heat flooded her face as he turned away to speak to the dark-haired guy next to him. Gina was astonished to discover she was having trouble catching her breath and forced her attention away from the very nice fit of his faded jeans.

Her gaze lit upon Jackson and Grace just in time to see him lower his thumb from her bottom lip to trail his hand across her overflowing top that, in reality, was nothing more than a fancy bra covered by a sheer blouse.

She glanced down at her own modest V-neck shirt and clenched her teeth. _All right, fine_. Maybe she didn't fill a double D cup, and maybe her legs didn't stretch for miles...but damn it, she could still attract a man if the occasion called for it. Suddenly, this one did.

With a determined smile for her friends, she picked up her empty glass and started for the bar, mentally preparing to sweet-talk Mr. Sexy. His back was still toward her, and her heart thumped in her chest with each step.

Halfway across the floor, she spontaneously reversed direction and headed for Jackson's table instead. His blue gaze met hers, and a satisfied smile stretched across his mouth as she approached. He was pleased she was coming to him.

_We'll just see how long that lasts._

"Gina, imagine seeing you here." His choice of words indicated all of them being in the same club tonight was no accident; Grace had known her plans for tonight.

She smiled at the confirmation of Jayne's suspicion, and then reached over to grab a drink off the tray of a passing waitress. "Jackson, Grace. I'd like to make a toast." She waited for the two of them to get over their hesitation and pick up their own drinks. They deserved each other. Barbie and Ken, with all the depth of plastic.

"To new beginnings...for all of us."

She leaned forward, glass raised to clink against theirs. Instead of drinking with them, she emptied hers in Jackson's face.

He jumped back with an angry exclamation as she slammed the empty glass on the table and spun around to leave. Obviously, that move didn't convey the message that she didn't care, but it felt damn good.

She stalked back to her own table, her stomach flip-flopping at the sight of her target still at the bar with his friend. Their backs were turned, so hopefully he hadn't seen what she'd just done. Jayne finished off her beer as Britt gave her a grin of approval.

"That was _awesome_. Good for you."

"Thanks." She reached out to scoop up her sweater and slung it over her arm. "I'm going home. See you guys tomorrow at the gallery."

"Aw, come on!" Jayne protested. "That's not fair!"

Gina flashed a smile even as pride demanded she head for the bar to make good on her toast _and_ the dare. A brief glance over her shoulder confirmed Jackson's furious gaze following her progress. Good.

She came up behind her target and happened to meet the gaze of his friend for a brief moment. The exchange alerted her guy, and she took a deep breath to prepare as he turned around.

His eyes were a warm, chocolate brown and she'd guessed right earlier; they were incredible. As was his smile—even if it was filled with that all-too-familiar male satisfaction that she'd sought _him_ out.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice raised over the music.

Without giving herself a chance to change her mind, she smiled up at him through her lashes while moving in close to lay her palms on his chest. Firm muscles registered as she lifted her five foot-three inch frame onto her tiptoes and ran her hands up to his shoulders so she could link her fingers behind his neck.

His eyes widened in surprise, but as she pulled his head down toward hers, he offered no resistance.

The instant his mouth touched hers, electricity jolted clear down to her toes. Her initial plan to sister-kiss him and leave was fried in a single heartbeat. His lips moved against hers, and in the next second, strong arms encircled her ribs. He pulled her against the full length of his body while his tongue slid along her lips, seeking entrance.

Caught up in the unexpected sensations pulsing through her, she opened to him with a soft sound of surprise and met the first intimate exploration of his tongue with her own, then the next, and the next. He slid a hand up into her hair and tilted her head to deepen their connection even further. His hard body against hers was so warm she'd swear flames licked her flesh from chest to mid thigh.

Her senses were reeling when she gradually became aware of loud cheers and catcalls from the crowd around them.

_What the hell am I doing?_

She pushed against the stranger's chest, pulling back even as he leaned forward in an attempt to prolong the kiss. Then it seemed he also became aware of the encouragement from their audience and released her with obvious reluctance.

Those brown eyes of his met hers, darker now than before.

_Shit_. During the past ten minutes, she'd never once considered what would happen _after_ the kiss. Now what?

He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, she panicked and spun for the door. Showing Jackson she was moving on was one thing, losing all common sense in the process was another.

As she pushed through the crowd, a hand grabbed at her arm.

"Hey—wait!"

She jerked free and felt her sweater whisk across her skin while she moved faster through the swell of bodies threatening to cut off her escape. Once outside, she only spared a quick backward glance before sprinting for her car.

Chapter 2

Dean Daley fisted the soft material in his hand and shoved through the club door to the parking lot. His gaze scanned the area, focusing on anyone leaving, but the woman who'd just kissed him senseless was nowhere to be seen. Disappeared without a trace.

_Damn_. After a kiss like that, he wanted her name.

He looked down at the maroon sweater as details from the past minute flooded back. Violet-tinted eyes. Brown hair. Maybe red? It'd been hard to tell under the club lights, but either way, it'd been silky as all hell. She'd felt so small in his arms. Soft and fragile, yet strong as she'd drawn his mouth down on hers.

God, she'd smelled amazing. Felt even better. Kissed like an erotic dream.

Maybe she was. She'd dashed through the crowd so quick he wondered if he'd imagined the whole thing.

The sweater clutched in his fingers told him he hadn't. He brought it up to his face and inhaled the fresh scent of flowers combined with a mysterious hint of spice. Definitely real.

When he realized he stood there smelling some stranger's sweater like a lovesick puppy, he quickly lowered his hand to his side. Heat flooded his face while muted music registered on his conscious, and he turned to go back inside. When he opened the door, the noise level blasted his eardrums.

At the bar, his vice president met his gaze with a lift of his eyebrows. "Did you catch her?"

"Nope." Dean dropped the sweater onto the bar and grabbed his beer.

"Who was that, anyway?"

"No clue."

Disbelief sent Mike Hollister's eyebrows higher. "You didn't know her?"

"Never saw her before tonight."

"Then what the hell was that?"

"Damned if I know." He took a swig from his bottle. As he lowered his hand, he recalled she hadn't been alone. He turned to see if her friends were still sitting at their table just as a guy reached to set drinks down while two new women claimed the empty chairs. He took a moment to scan the crowd. He thought she'd been sitting with a blond and a brunette, but seeing as he'd been focused on the mystery girl, he couldn't be sure and certainly wouldn't be able to pick them out of the crowd.

"That hers?" Mike's question drew his attention back to see him eyeing the sweater.

"Yeah."

His friend chuckled.

"What?"

"You got yourself your very own Cinderella."

 *

Buy your copy of **_TRUST BY DESIGN_** HERE
Recommended Reads

For action-packed romantic suspense, check out Stacey's

Italy Intrigue Series

### KIDNAPPED

Book 1

" _This is my favorite Stacey Joy Netzel book to date. The suspense is riveting, but the characters make this book. Ms. Netzel does a great job painting a picture of two realistically flawed people and how they used their ingrained (and necessary) coping mechanisms to not only survive, but to thrive and move beyond their flaws_."

~ Water Lily, LASR Best Book

**Previously published as _Lost in Italy_ **

2012 Write Touch Readers' Award Winner, Romantic Suspense, as _Lost in Italy_

_This time the action isn't scripted...and the danger is real._

Small town television producer Halli Sanders planned the trip of a lifetime to Italy. Not on her itinerary? The disappearance of her siblings, dodging bullets during a high speed car chase, and being kidnapped by a sexy movie star. And that's just in the first three hours.

A-lister Trent Tomlin put his career on hold to investigate his brother's suspicious death. When an American tourist unwittingly films the murder of the retired cop who's been helping him, Trent has no choice but to abscond with the woman and her dangerous recording. But the killers will do anything to get the incriminating evidence—including hold Halli's family as collateral.

Thrust into the role of real-life hero, Trent finds himself falling for the Plain Jane whose beauty blossoms with every challenge they face. He needs the evidence to put the murderers behind bars. Halli needs it to rescue her siblings. Their attraction heats up, but unless they can find a way to work together, all the planning in the world won't guarantee a happy ending.

Excerpt:  
Chapter 1

"For the love of God, Hal, we didn't travel over ten hours for you to film swans."

Halli Sanders ground her back molars together, ignored her sister Rachel, and zoomed her camera in on the flock of white birds across the water. Graceful and serene, they stood out in stark contrast to the dark, shaded water of the small inlet her brother had parked near. A shaky breath helped steady her hands.

"You guys wanted to stop, now I want to see if Lake Como, Italy and Lake Como, WI have more in common than their names," she informed her sister and brother.

"Who cares?" Rachel moaned. "And it was Ben's bright idea to pull over, not mine. I just want to find the hotel and shower away some of this jet lag. And, we still have to find a converter for my hair dryer."

Halli rolled her eyes and kept filming. Yes, she was being snotty about it, but they're the ones who threw away her meticulously planned itinerary so they could make impromptu stops like this. Ben specifically had insisted she lighten up, as if she'd chosen to become a control freak after their crazy, unstable years on the run with their parents.

The half dozen or so swans had floated into the sunlight, near a wooden dock in front of a stone villa. She wondered who lived there. The tabloids always talked about George Clooney's house on Lake Como in Italy and how he always had friends visiting—could this be it? If it was, any number of stars could be there _right_ now.

_That's it_ , she told herself. Focus on something other than the fact her plans had all been scrapped. She did not want her anxiety issues ruining this vacation. As long as she had Ben and Rachel, she'd be fine.

She allowed herself one last lingering look at the regal villa through the viewfinder. The weathered stonework was beautiful, but the shiny, reflective windows captured her attention. She loved large windows that let in natural light. Wished she had them in her studio apartment overlooking the lake back home.

Ben ran interference behind her. "We'll go find the hotel first, then an electronics store, then we'll find a place to eat. Sound okay?"

"Yes, thank you," Rachel agreed, her tone full of exaggerated drama. "Let's go, Hal."

" _Fine_. I'm coming." Halli took a step backward, but a movement in the windows caught her attention. She paused and steadied the camera. The front door to the villa burst open. As someone ran outside, the swans took flight, their startled cries echoing across the water.

Behind her, she heard car doors open. Then Ben's, "Oh, hurry up—there's a break in traffic."

_Bam. Bam. Vrrooommm_.

The slamming doors made Halli glance over her shoulder. She did a double take when the little blue car her brother had rented in Milan shot off the curb.

" _Hey—_ " She spun around, took a few steps, then stopped with a disbelieving laugh. "Real funny, guys."

Surely any second now, they'd give up the joke, pull to the side, and wait for her to catch up as they laughed their hilarious frickin' heads off.

No brake lights.

No U-turn.

Nothing.

The blue car accelerated around the bend in the road and disappeared.

Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach sunk. Muttering under her breath, she looked around self-consciously, doing her best to distract herself from the fact that she was suddenly all alone in a foreign country. A dark-haired man across the street glanced her way with open curiosity. Thankfully, he kept walking. Cars cruised past; a couple kids on bikes; a woman on a moped. Though the kids stopped a short distance away, no one paid her much attention over the next few minutes.

Well, sure. Lake Como, Italy was probably used to lost tourists, what did they care?

_No_ , _you're_ not _lost_. The adamant statement helped to steady her breathing. That's right. Ben and Rachel would be back any moment. She had nothing to worry about as long as she didn't leave this spot.

The man across the street gave her a more thorough inspection and a chill trickled down her spine. Halli averted her gaze and hugged her arms around her middle. Her heart rate continued its steady acceleration.

Oh, she was going to kill them when they got back. They'd pulled pranks in the past, but this one was cruel—especially her first time travelling overseas. Why would they do this now? Ben may live life with the motto "Rip the Band-Aid off", but not Halli. It had to be a joke, right? It was either that, or they didn't know she wasn't in the car. But how could anyone miss something like _that_?

If Ben's phone wasn't the only one equipped to make international calls, she'd call and give them a loud, extended piece of her mind.

_Stop! You're going to be fine._ There are plenty of people around and no one's going to do anything in broad daylight. She clutched the small travel purse hanging diagonal across her chest containing her passport. See? If you need help, you can prove you're a US citizen.

Not that she'd need to prove her citizenship. Any minute the blue car would come back around the bend. Any second even.

She stared down the road, counting seconds.

Seconds became minutes.

Maybe they _didn't_ know she'd been left behind. What then? How long before they came back? Desperate to control the unrelenting apprehension no amount of silent talk would quell, Halli turned back to the lake as if she'd find answers somewhere across the water.

A lone swan near shore reminded her of the camera still clutched in her hand. The red light on the front reminded her she was still recording. Ironically, the camera was part of the reason she was sitting here alone, and yet she'd completely forgotten about it.

She stopped the video and swiveled to take a seat on the cool ledge of stone that held the lake water at bay. It was the perfect vantage point to keep the loitering man across the street in sight. A glance over her shoulder located where the other swans had landed a good distance from the villa's dock.

She frowned and faced the lake. Strange how that person had burst so suddenly from the villa.

The noon sun sat at a point that she had to squint and shade her eyes to see the structure's stone walls across the small inlet of water. Even then, it was too far away for the naked eye. Flipping open the viewfinder as she lifted the camera, she waited for it to focus, then tried to zoom. The low battery indicator flashed as she maxed the zoom.

She studied the picture. Something was different—one of the windows looked odd. Her attention snagged on a tall figure in the corner of the pane. Longish dark hair above a square jaw with a severe slash for a mouth. He raised a pair of binoculars to look across the bay. Her pulse jerked when he zeroed in and stared straight at her—

Tires squealed and an engine revved loud to her right. Halli jumped about a foot. _Ben and Rachel!_ An uncharacteristic spurt of anger doubled her anxiety as she whirled around.

"I can't believe you guys left—"

Words disappeared with the heart-stuttering realization that the shiny blue convertible half pulled onto the cobblestone sidewalk was not her brother and sister. And the man in the driver's seat most certainly was _not_ her brother.

_Plain_ was the first word that came to mind when Trent Tomlin got a good, close-up look at the girl dressed in baggy black pants and an oversized black T-shirt. Except for her eyes. Almost the exact color of his car, they blazed with anger—if the shrill tone of her voice were any indication.

Because he couldn't afford to waste a second, he slipped into his carefree, celebrity character while pushing up his Ray Bans to flash his trade-mark, million dollar grin past the two day's worth of camouflaging scruff on his jaw.

"Hi." Usually that's all he needed. _One...two..._

Astonishment replaced anger.

_...three._

"Oh my God. You're Shain West."

"Only in the movies, darlin'."

That always got 'em, too, the good-ol'-boy, southern drawl. Didn't matter he'd been born and raised in northern Oregon, he had a natural talent for mimicking any accent. After just a few words, he easily placed her in mid-west United States. American tourist. Perfect. It also explained why she'd been videotaping in the wrong place at the wrong damn time. The opposite of his brother, and if he could help it, the opposite outcome.

Her cheeks flushed. "Of course. I know your real name. Sorry. It's just—I'm...ah...I'm..."

Hell, he'd better speed this up. "Can I give you a lift?"

"W-what?" She craned her head around, as if he might be speaking to someone else.

Resisting the urge to check over his shoulder, he kept his gaze trained on her. "You look lost. Hop in and I'll give you a ride."

Her throat convulsed, and though he wouldn't have thought it possible, her blush deepened to crimson. A fleeting smile revealed even, white teeth.

"Oh, no. I mean, um, thank you, but no."

She lifted a hand to tuck a strand of straight brown hair behind her ear as she searched back and forth along the road.

Trent cast his own quick glance in the rearview mirror, pressure squeezing his body like a starving boa constrictor as he searched for the men who'd spotted her and her camera across the bay. By his amateur calculations, he figured he had about three more minutes. _If_ they were lucky.

Pushing up to sit on the headrest, he prepared to turn on the superstar charm that had brought him such success at the box office.

"I'm waiting for my brother and sister," she said before he could speak.

So that's who'd driven off as he watched the scene unfold from one street above and behind her. He lifted a tense shoulder in a careless gesture. "Quick spin around town, and I'll bring you right back. They'll never know you were gone, sugar."

Her eyebrows drew together above those deep blue eyes. _Damn_. He fought his own frown. Based on previous experience with star-struck women, she should've jumped in at the first invitation. Wasn't it just his luck, this one had common sense.

Leaving the car running, he swung his legs over the door and rounded the front of the convertible. His heart thumped with each step as he tried to figure out the best way to get her out of this mess. It was one thing when he was following a script, but how the hell did one orchestrate a rescue in real life when the rescuee wouldn't cooperate and he had no time to explain the danger? It's not like he could play her the recording tucked in his pocket.

The girl backed away from his approach. He fought back rising apprehension and forced an easy smile.

"Look, I appreciate the offer, Shain, but—"

"Trent."

"Right." Her blush deepened. "I know. _Trent._ But I—"

"I need you to get in the car." As an afterthought, he added, "Please."

"Um..."

He used her glance down the road as cover for his own. Still time, yet his control slipped. "Seriously. Get in."

The sharp command widened her eyes. Suspicion darkened them to navy, and she took another step backward. Then her shoulders squared while her gaze narrowed with determination. "No."

The right taillight on his Alfa Romeo exploded. Trent ducked reflexively as bits of plastic flew in all directions. Adrenaline spiked through him, but other than a sharp reactive jerk, the girl just stood there holding her camera. Trent lunged forward, grabbed her arm and hauled her toward the car.

"Hey—let me go!" She pulled back with surprising strength.

He picked her up and shoved her head first into the passenger seat, then vaulted over her to slip behind the wheel. Heartbeat thundering in his ears, he gunned the gas with a sickening grinding of gears before the convertible shot out into traffic amidst screeching tires and blaring horns.

 *

Buy your copy of **_KIDNAPPED_** HERE

### BETRAYED

Italy Intrigue Series

Book 2

" _...a thrill ride of an adventure and suspense, topped off with sizzling chemistry between the leads._ "

~ Helen, Amazon Reviewer

**Previously published as _Run to Rome_ **

_She loved him and left him, but fate had other plans..._

Nine months ago, undercover detective, Ispettore Evalina Gallo, protected her heart the only way she knew how, never expecting to see her savior-turned-one-night-stand again. When he returns to Italia—now a person of interest in an investigation of a local organized crime family—her personal connection to the rugged American gets her assigned to the case.

With his mother's pleas ringing in his ears, Ben Sanders plans to retrieve a stolen bible his father shipped to Italy thirteen years ago, and then get out as fast as he can. But with the sudden arrival of the beautiful detective, he suspects his mother's desire to right past wrongs might not be the whole truth.

Now, less than twenty-four hours after entering the country, he's getting shot at—again. In a race from Milan to Rome to find the precious book before anyone else, time is ticking for the one-time lovers. Attraction burns hotter than molten lava, but amid secrets and half-truths, they must move beyond past betrayals and trust each other if they have any hope of a future together.

Excerpt:

One glance at the busy hallway between the suite and the lift and she went the opposite direction. He wasn't too far ahead, but moving fast for the emergency stair exit.

"Ben! Stop!"

His stride didn't slow, and she broke into a run to catch up. The heavy exit door banged against the wall as she shoved through. "Where do you think you're going?"

She managed to grab his arm on the landing between flights, but he jerked free. A second grapple caught the strap on his overnight bag. It slid from his shoulder and hit the landing with a thump.

"Let me go, Eva."

After his pointed use of her full name since they'd come face to face at the café, the more familiar abbreviation was like a punch to the gut. Sucking in a deep breath, she renewed her determination to stop him. This time she was ready for his resistance and managed to get in front of him as he stooped for his bag. Short of pushing her down the stairs, he wasn't getting past.

He straightened, strap held in his hand with the bag still on the floor as she took her stance. "Get out of my way."

"Not until you give me some answers. Those men think you have something they want and were willing to kill you for it. _And me_."

He dropped the strap to step closer. She tensed, but still wasn't prepared for the lightning fast move that swung her around and pressed her back to the wall while he crowded her close with the length of his body.

She sucked in a breath as his eyes locked with hers, brilliantly blue in the morning light flooding the stairwell. Tension radiated from his rough grip. Experience reminded her he was unpredictable and passionate, yet despite the threatening stance, she was shocked to realize she didn't fear physical harm at his hands.

As she stared, as they breathed together in the minuscule distance between them, a shadow of desperation darkened his eyes.

"Answers would be a good thing right about now," he agreed, his voice low and gruff. "You first."

"Me?"

"What are you investigating Fedorio for?"

The demand took her by surprise, and she stiffened. "I don't owe you any—"

"The hell you don't."

Increased pressure on her arms spurred her into action. She wedged her hands between them, intending to force some space so she could break free. Quicker than before, he caught her wrists and forced her arms above her head. Her knee jerk reaction was countered by the full weight of his body pressing hers to the wall. An instant flush of sensual heat, combined with helpless fury, added fuel to her adrenalin.

"I came to Italy to pick up a book for my mother from her cousin," he said, teeth clenched against her struggles. "Then you and Antonio show up to escort me around, and suddenly I'm getting shot at again."

Her indignation spiked, but she was unable to gain any leverage for an effective counter-measure against his superior strength. She'd save her efforts for when he let his guard down and settled for a glare as she caught her breath.

"You think what happened up there was _my_ fault?"

"You tell me. I was never booked at the Armani, and I never told Fedorio where I was staying. How else would anyone know where I was except through you and your partner? As I recall, he wasn't so forthcoming with you on your last assignment, either."

She opened her mouth to object, but realized he might be right. Antonio had called in their location, as well as ran the checks on Alisa and Nicholas Marshall. She didn't believe Antonio was directly responsible, but had they somehow been the connection that led the two gunmen to the hotel?

"They could've followed you from your meeting yesterday," she suggested, monitoring his expression for any indication he was lying.

"If that was the case, they would've been the ones to steal my bag, and it would've happened a lot sooner than the piazza."

"How do you know it wasn't them?"

"I suspect I'd have gotten more than just a scratch on my side. And if it _had_ been them, they'd already have what they wanted."

"Which is?"

Indecision flickered in those blue depths, as if he wanted to tell her, but couldn't quite bring himself to trust her. Doing so would prove he'd lied.

Then his gaze lowered to her mouth, and she realized the demons he wrestled were entirely different, but all too familiar. As he began to lower his head, the awareness she'd been desperately trying to ignore rushed forward to steal her breath and leave her light-headed. God help her, if he kissed her right now, she wouldn't stop him. Her eyelids grew heavy in the charged silence, and his grip on her wrists eased.

The break in his concentration registered in her mind with a distinct click. She held still one more moment, and then the second before his mouth met hers, she wrenched her arms free, bucked her body against his, and managed the space necessary to escape his physical control.

A quick spin protected her back and she faced him, ready for his next move.

 *

Buy your copy of **BETRAYED** HERE

### CONNED

Italy Intrigue Series

Book 3

" _...a refreshing action-adventure filled with an intriguing mystery and sexy romance. Stacey Joy Netzel delivers a strong novel packed full of deception, intrigue, danger, and sexual chemistry so strong, it's palpable. She keeps you reading until the very last word_."

~ Erin, ByoBook Club

**Previously published as _Vanished in Venice_ **

_The cross is the key to a priceless treasure...will it secure their future, or doom them forever?_

One year after being shot in Italy, Rachel Sanders travels to Venice in search of the jeweled cross that triggered a heartbreaking family betrayal. Determined to keep the treasure from her mother's greedy hands, she's caught off guard by the interference of an irresistibly charming rival. His unexpected offer to work together might be self-serving, but she's thrown into a precarious situation where she can't refuse.

Nick Marshall has a family legacy to recover and a score to settle. Anyone with the last name Sanders is fair game—until he meets Rachel. She's gorgeous, smart, sexy, and doesn't buy one word of his cover story. When their attraction combusts, each kiss makes his deception burn like acid, and he begins to question his end goal.

But they're not the only ones after the cross. Ruthless players determined to recover the treasure first put Nick and Rachel's lives at risk. Despite all the secrets and lies, lines quickly blur between the con and the real deal. Can love survive a double-cross when the mystery is unlocked?

Excerpt:

Nick unsuccessfully fought a yawn and then rubbed his hand over the scruff on his jaw as he watched the entryway of Rachel's building from his shaded vantage point across the street. After she'd bolted last night, he'd started his search at the first bar closest to his rental. When he didn't find the two guys who'd broken in, he moved on to the next. And the next.

He'd half-expected them to stop at the first place along the way to wherever they were going, but unfortunately, they proved to be smarter than they'd sounded. Getting up to be at the train station for the first run at five-thirty hadn't paid off, either. He seriously hadn't expected it to be so hard to find a tall blond man with a shorter bald guy that early in the morning.

Operating on three hours of sleep left him tired and cranky. Even with his sunglasses on, the bright morning sunshine hurt his eyes. Every blink felt like his eyelids were coated in sandpaper. He desperately needed another shot of caffeine, but the way his luck was going, the moment he stepped away from his lookout, the oldest Sanders sibling would slip right through his fingers. Following her might give him something of use to put him back in the game.

She finally made an appearance about twenty minutes after nine, turning west as she exited the building. She strolled along the ancient city streets as if she didn't have a care in the world. Her hair glinted like spun gold in the sun, swaying back and forth across her back in time with the swish of a just above the knee peach colored dress.

He followed at a distance, wondering if he was making the right move. His gaze lingered on those long legs, her toned calves enhanced by another pair of heeled sandals.

Nope, no wondering about it. The fact he couldn't forget the feel of her body pressed against his in the darkened bedroom told him this plan was definitely not his smartest move.

Unfortunately, with the letters lost, the sexy, leggy blond was the _only_ move he could make.

So long as he didn't make a move on her, he should be fine. Right?

_Riiight_.

Nick noticed she'd gotten a little farther ahead than he was comfortable with, and then he lost sight of her when she moved in front of a group of early-bird tourists.

_Sonofabitch_.

He couldn't afford to lose track of her. After she'd had the daring to follow him and try to take back her stuff, he needed to see what she was up to.

He hurried to catch up, but she was nowhere to be found as he searched up one street, and down the next. Vanished without a trace. Drawing in a deep breath through his nose, he blew it back out through his mouth. He loved Italy, but the convoluted layout of Venice's streets and canals was really starting to get on his nerves.

Frustration piled on the events of last night, compounded by little sleep. He strode to the end of the street, and out into the market square of Santa Maria Formosa, feeling like he could shake his fists at the heavens.

"Lose something, Nicholas?"

He whirled around to find his quarry leaning against a building, those gorgeous legs of hers crossed at the ankles. Looking casual and unconcerned, she twirled a pair of sunglasses round and round in one hand.

_Be nice. You need her._

Recovering from his surprise, he moved closer and forced a smile. "My wallet. And phone."

"I can help with those." She straightened, pulled both items from her canvas shoulder bag, and handed them over. "Whatever else you're following me for, forget it. I want to drink my cappuccino in peace."

He shoved his wallet into his pocket without checking to see if she'd taken anything. He'd bet the Bible she'd only wanted to discover his identity. Whatever he'd say about the Sanders, they weren't petty thieves. They always went for the big score.

The phone he kept in his hands, using his thumb to determine if the expensive, waterproof case had been tampered with. Didn't feel like it, and since the phone itself was password protected, he doubted she'd gotten anything off of it. "You have an impressive repertoire of skills."

"Hard to avoid when you're raised like I was." She shouldered her bag, slipped her sunglasses on, and turned to walk away.

"And how were you raised?" he asked, taking a step after her.

"Don't pretend like you don't already know that answer." She spoke over her shoulder, but then spun back to face him. In her heels, she was only a couple inches shorter than his six feet. "I'm serious, Nicholas, stop following me."

"I prefer Nick."

"Or we could go with creepy asshole stalker."

He grinned. "Nicholas is fine."

"Just leave me alone. It's not like I've got anything you want anymore."

She had plenty he wanted. And plenty more he shouldn't. Hidden behind his own mirrored shades, he flicked his gaze down to her pink mouth, with its full bottom lip glistening in the morning sunshine. Succumbing to the urge to kiss those lips would give a whole new meaning to _keep your enemies closer_. For him anyway.

He shifted his attention back up, wishing he could remove her glasses. Would that answering glimmer of awareness darken her eyes again? The possibility sent a shot of heat through his veins.

Tempting though it was, tasting her was not a thought he should be entertaining. To distract his libido, he said, "I was hoping we could talk. Can I buy your _caffe_?"

"You already did."

A smirk curved the corners of her mouth as she started across the square once more. He automatically reached to feel his pocket. His wallet was still there, but obviously he should have checked the contents— _and definitely don't bet the Bible where she's concerned_.

Nick caught up in three strides and kept pace with her. "Then the least you can do is let me sit with you while you drink it."

"The least _I_ can do? Really?" She didn't stop walking until they reached the café. Then she swiped her glasses off and jabbed them at him as her blue eyes flashed. "You broke into my apartment, stole letters that have sentimental value, and then lost them to those two idiots last night. And you're talking about the least _I_ can do?"

"Whoa, easy now." He held up his hands to placate her. And ward off the jab. "Before you go getting all worked up, maybe you'd like to hear my proposition."

"No thanks."

"Trust me, yes you do."

"Trust _you_ ," she retorted. "Wow, not only are you delusional, you're hilarious."

_Quit trying to talk her into listening and just say it._

"I thought we could help each other."

Her elegantly sculpted eyebrows arched upward as she tucked her glasses in her bag. "With what?"

"Finding whatever it is you came here to look for."

Her eyes widened the tiniest bit. Then her eyebrows lowered, drawing together as she appeared to consider his words. "The only thing I might consider looking for are the personal mementos you stole and lost."

So much for consideration. "I might have a lead on those letters." He had shit, but she wouldn't know that.

Ignoring him, she faced the barista and gave an order for a cappuccino. Then she looked at the pastry offerings and fumbled through a request for something similar to _cornetto alla crema_. Nick pointed out the _bignè alla crema_ before requesting a _caffe doppio_ for himself. He also advised in Italian they'd like to sit at one of the terrace tables so the cover charge could be added to their bill.

He reached for his wallet, but Rachel beat him to it by handing twenty euros to the man operating the register. "Don't worry, you're covered."

"I'd say thank you, but I'd be talking to myself, right?"

His sarcasm was rewarded with a smug smile. While she accepted the change, Nick took their purchases to carry out to the table. After setting them down, he pulled out her chair and waited. She gave him a suspicious look before gathering her skirt with one hand and sitting with a graceful sweep of elegance. The movement was so smooth, the single, filmy ruffle along her modest neckline barely moved.

Like the last time he'd stood behind her at a restaurant table, the faint honey scent of her shampoo wafted up to fill his senses. A hint of sweet and a whole lot of sultry, just like the woman. He drew in a discreet inhale, then straightened with a mental admonishment to keep his focus.

When he dropped onto the chair opposite her, she lifted her cappuccino for a taste, then set her cup back on its saucer. She sat back in her chair with her gaze steady on his. "What makes you think I'd want, or even need, your help?"

_Ah ha._ She was thinking about his offer.

He considered what angle to play as he sipped his double espresso. Charming or blunt?

Yesterday, he'd have piled on the charm. She'd appeared more...innocent. Maybe not quite the right word, but the stylish dress, the shoes, her hair, and even the modest make-up she wore, all suggested a level of somewhat high maintenance. Or sophistication. Class.

However, her undetected pursuit of him last night completely contradicted everything on the outside. Coupled with her ambush this morning, he was seeing her in an entirely different light.

Class, some sass, and not one to have the wool pulled over her eyes.

He went with blunt. "Because I can help you find the cross."

 *

Buy your copy of **_CONNED_** HERE

## About the Author

I fell in love with books at a young age, and growing up, whenever Dad realized I'd disappeared when I was supposed to be working, he usually found me hiding out somewhere with a book. Writing evolved from reading, and the first book I ever finished was in high school, about my celebrity crush. I got an A on that creative writing assignment, though I'm not sure my teacher actually read all 187 pages (I read it when I got older—I wouldn't blame him if he didn't). I started writing again in my mid-twenties, and no matter the journey my characters take, the end result is always the same—Happily Ever After.

After years of being a travel agent while writing on the side, I am now able to live my dream of being a full time writer. I'm still an avid reader, and also a fan of movies with that HEA. I live in my native Wisconsin with my husband and kids, and in my limited free time, I enjoy gardening, canning, and visiting my parents in Northeastern Wisconsin (Up North) at the family cabin on the lake.

### Find me online:

Website and Blog:

StaceyJoyNetzel.com

Facebook:

Facebook.com/StaceyJoyNetzelAuthor

Twitter:

twitter.com/StaceyJoyNetzel

Hearing from readers is a very special thing for any writer, so pop in and say "Hi!" at any of the above locations. Or **subscribe to my newsletter** to keep up with my newest releases.

**http://smarturl.it/BKSJNNewsletter**

Again, reviews are always appreciated!

Thank you, and happy reading.

* Stacey *

## Other Titles by Stacey Joy Netzel

ITALY INTRIGUE SERIES

**_Kidnapped_***

**_Betrayed_**

**_Conned_**

*2012 Write Touch Readers' Award Winner as previously titled _Lost  in Italy_

COLORADO TRUST SERIES

**_Evidence of Trust_**

**_Trust by Design_**

**_Trust in the Lawe_**

**_Shattered Trust_**

**_Dare to Trust_**

**_Vow of Trust_**

**_Illusion of Trust_**

WELCOME TO REDEMPTION SERIES

**_A Fair to Remember_**, Book 2

**_Grounds For Change_**, Book 4

**_The Heart of the Matter_**, Book 6

**_Hold On To Me_**, Book 8

**_Say You'll Marry Me_**, Book 10

(books 1,3,5,7,9 written by Donna Marie Rogers)

ROMANCING WISCONSIN SERIES

**_Mistletoe Mischief_**

**_Mistletoe Magic_**

**_Mistletoe Match-up_**

** ** _Mistletoe Rules_** – short bonus story

**_Romancing Wisconsin Vol I_**

**_Autumn Wish_**

**_Autumn Bliss_**

**_Autumn Kiss_**

** ** _Autumn Glimmer_** – short bonus story

**_Romancing Wisconsin Vol II_**

**_Spring Fling_**

**_Spring Serendipity_**

**_Spring Dreams_**

** ** _Spring Spark_** – short bonus story

**_Romancing Wisconsin Vol III_**

**_Summer Scandal_**...summer 2017

STAND ALONE ROMANCE TITLES

**_More Than a Kiss_**, contemporary romance

**_Chasin' Mason_**, contemporary western romance

**_Ditched Again_**, high school reunion novella

**_Dragonfly Dreams_**, Christmas novella

PARANORMAL ROMANCE TITLES

**_If Tombstones Could Talk_**, paranormal novella

**_Beneath Still Waters_** (Part One), paranormal novella

**_Rising Above_** (Still Waters Part Two), paranormal novella

FREE READ

**_Holding Out For a Hero_**
**_Evidence of Trust_**

Colorado Trust Series, book 1

Copyright © 2014, Stacey Joy Netzel

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Editor: Stacy D. Holmes

Cover Art: Ravven

ISBN: 9781939143211

EPUB Edition
