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  Cautiously, he moved forward and up. A rock here, then a twisted scrub tree, then a large, open expanse that was the only way to the top of the hill.

  “Well?” She eyed him, one perfectly shaped brow arched. “Do you want to go for it? Every second wasted gives them more time to get away.”

  Since he suspected she was right, he nodded. “I’m going alone. Wait here.”

  Without waiting for her to comply, he dashed up the remaining distance. Somehow he wasn’t surprised when she came along right behind him.

  “I told you I’ve got your back,” she said, waving away any protests he might be about to make. “Look.” She pointed. “Over there, near the road.”

  In the distance, he could see the group of men running. A beat-up black Suburban parked nearby was apparently their destination.

  “They’re nearly there.”

  “Too far for us to catch them.” He cursed. “And we’re not close enough to make out the plates.”

  Side by side, they watched as the men climbed into the vehicle and sped away.

  Chapter 9

  Only when the intruders’ vehicle had completely vanished did Matt turn to look at her. He wasn’t surprised to find her glaring at him, her arms crossed.

  “What the hell was that?” she demanded.

  He grimaced. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  Her mouth fell open and then she made a rude sound. “Don’t give me that crap. Are you going to tell me what’s going on? First a fire is deliberately set in your barn, then a bunch of guys shoots at us.”

  Us. The simple word sent an absurd stab of longing through him. Made even more dangerous by the fact that she could have died, and once again, it would have been all his fault.

  “There is no us,” he told her. “And the rest is none of your business. I’ve changed my mind about letting you stay another day. Actually, it’d be best if you go gather your things and take off.”

  Still glaring at him, she stood her ground. “I helped you, damn it. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

  “You are my responsibility and you were nearly killed,” he ground out, suddenly, blazingly furious. “And you still want to ask questions?”

  He saw his own fury reflected back at him in her eyes. In three strides she reached him, grabbed ahold of him by the front of his shirt.

  Standing on tiptoe, she tried to go nose to nose with him. She didn’t quite make it, as he was still a good six or more inches taller.

  Still, the fact that she even made the attempt turned him on incredibly. That and the adrenaline rushing through his body like lightning had him wanting to haul her up against him and freaking ravish her.

  “I could just shake you,” she cried, her frustration apparent in her voice. This had nearly the same effect as a dousing of cold water. Obviously, he didn’t have the same effect on her.

  “Shake me?” he asked, incredulous. “You’re the one who insists on putting herself in danger. You could have been killed. Do you understand?”

  “So could you,” she shot back, pushing at him. “I’ve had years of practice. What about you? How good are you with a gun?”

  Now wasn’t the time to tell her he’d been a sharpshooter in the military.

  Nose to nose, chest to chest, adrenaline and anger and fear coalesced into a flash of...something else. Something white-hot and life-affirming and as dangerous as hell.

  “Damn it,” he growled. Then, before he could even think, she hauled him up against her and kissed him.

  After half a second of stunned shock, he kissed her back.

  This time, the kiss raged like a wildfire, out of control. Neither was willing to give an inch, and for the first time he relished the hotness of a woman who knew what she wanted and wouldn’t back down.

  She pressed against him, grinding her body into his. Already hard beyond belief, he thought he might burst through his jeans.

  She grabbed his butt, pulling him closer, pulling at his shirt with fumbling hands. Impatient, he yanked hers over her head, then helped her rip his from his chest. More kisses, touches, groans. On fire, they shed the rest of their clothing, just as the sun rose over the horizon in a blaze of gold.

  Finally, naked, he dimly registered the truth of her body—every bit as splendid as he’d dreamed—before she was on him, taking as much as she gave.

  He tried to hold off, to bank the fires so they’d burn longer, but she would have none of that.

  Pushing him back, she straddled him. “Are you ready?” she growled.

  He thought he’d never seen anything as erotic as her, crouched over him in the early-morning light, wild and sexy and...

  Before he could even finish the thought, she took him inside her in one swift move. Sheathing him, so tight, so wet, so damn perfect.

  A moan escaped him. “Skylar,” he managed, unable to articulate anything but her name.

  She began to move. He moved with her, bucking, trying to keep to the slow rhythm she set, but his body had other plans.

  They took each other—not making love so much as taking possession—and it was fierce and fiery and reaffirmed to both of them that they were alive.

  After, sweaty and spent, they held each other briefly before she pushed away and sat up. Gazing at him, she swallowed hard. “I hadn’t intended for that to happen.”

  Finally, honesty. Slowly, he shook his head. “Me, either.”

  “It’s time for some truths,” she said.

  Weary of it all, he shook his head. “Fine. You want the truth? Then I’ll tell you. I already know what you are.”

  At that, she went very, very still. “What do you mean?” she asked, but her voice sounded off.

  He eyed her. She watched him, her wariness evident in the way she held her body. Stiff, remote, as though they hadn’t just shared the most intimate of acts.

  “You’re ATF or DEA,” he continued. “Undercover. Don’t bother denying it.”

  Finally, her shoulders sagged, just the tiniest bit, but it was enough. “How long have you known?” she asked.

  He saw the way she tried not to glance toward her weapon. Did she really think he was that big a threat? That after all that had happened between them he’d really hurt her?

  “Go ahead.” He gestured toward the gun. “Hand me mine while you’re at it.”

  She goggled at him. “What?”

  “Do you really think I’m going to hurt you?”

  “I don’t know,” she cried. “My cover is blown, you’re not what I expected, so who the hell knows what’s going to happen next?”

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” he told her. Then, because he wanted no lies between them, he added, “Unless you get in my way.”

  “Your way.” Dragging her hand through her hair, she looked vulnerable and beautiful and the exact opposite of the tigress who’d attacked his body only moments before. When he didn’t respond, she sighed. “Are you going to tell me the truth about what’s going on? Who were those men? Why were they shooting at us? Did they set the fire at the barn? And are you going to call the local police?”

  Once again, she hammered questions at him the same way she’d attacked him. Full-out, holding nothing back.

  “Those men were most likely members of the Mexican drug cartel.”

  She stared. He wasn’t sure if it was because she hadn’t expected the truth or because even the truth was a bit difficult to swallow.

  “The Mexican drug cartel never comes this far north,” she finally said. “They have people on this side who take care of distribution for them.”

  “True.” He smiled, though it felt more like a grimace. “And since you know I’m not dealing drugs...”

  “Then what are you doing?” she interrupted. “We know about your stockpile of ammunition.”

  “Which is not illegal.”

  “I know the law, thank you,” she snapped. “Are you selling or do you intend to sell that ammunition to the Mexicans?”
/>   He widened his eyes. “Now, that would be illegal,” he mocked.

  “Matt, please. I’m trying to work with you here.”

  “Then arrest me, if I’ve done something wrong. Otherwise, I want you off my ranch.”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “I know I haven’t. So what’s your next step? I’ve heard stories. How when you people can’t find a legitimate reason to move in, you manufacture one.”

  Her expression went mulish. “That’s bull.”

  “Oh, yeah? I saw on the news how you raided some guy in Dallas who had an ammo stash. The charge was that he was suspected of being a weapons dealer without a license. You had no proof of anything. But you went in anyway.”

  To give her credit, she looked down. “That was an isolated case. I’m sure they found something after it was all over.”

  “Are you? I’m not.”

  She sighed. “Look, you’ve already told me my cover’s blown. I really do want to help you. Not as a federal agent, but as a...person.”

  As a woman? He let it go, still not entirely sure he could trust her. But he wanted to, oh, how he wanted to. The depth of his longing shocked the hell out of him.

  More proof he was truly a fool.

  Frustrated, he turned away. “No.”

  “Off the record,” she urged. “I promise. I’m willing to assist you any way I can.”

  “Why?” Studying her, he searched her face for any hint of a lie.

  His question seemed to stop her cold. For the first time, she appeared uncertain. “Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe because I actually like you.”

  Strange as it seemed, he believed her. Still, they were on opposing sides of the fence. “I refuse to ask you to compromise your job.”

  “I would never do that,” she shot back. “But I can help you. If you’re in a bind, let me lend a hand.”

  As tempting as her offer was, he knew she couldn’t help him with what he wanted to do. It would be against everything she stood for. After all, she’d come here under false pretenses, and for all he knew, she was still lying.

  He could do nothing about the powerful attraction they shared, but he couldn’t allow it to factor into his decision. He had too much at risk. “The best thing you can do is pack, get in your little VW and get the hell out of here.”

  She crossed her arms, still spectacular in her nakedness. To his disbelief, his body stirred. Immediately, he snatched up his discarded clothing and began getting dressed. She simply stood there and watched him.

  “Please,” he urged. “Put on your clothes.”

  To his immense relief, moving slowly, stiffly, she dragged on her jeans and her T-shirt, running her fingers through her hair. Once she’d finished and was fully clothed, she faced him again. This time, at least he could look at her without becoming too aroused.

  “I’m dressed. Now, don’t ask me to leave, because I’m not going anywhere until you tell me the truth.”

  Frustrated, tired of the lies, exhausted from the pretense, he swallowed.

  “Please,” she added, touching his shoulder lightly.

  It was the contact, the feel of her hand on his body that did it. For one brief, shining instant, he no longer felt so alone.

  So he told her some things, things that José was the only other person to know. Careful not to reveal everything—like his real name or how he’d come by his millions—he stuck with the facts, trying to remain unemotional. He told her about his family, about his brother, Ricardo, and his dealings with La Familia.

  “The largest of all the Mexican drug cartels?” she asked.

  “And the most dangerous. Yes.” And finally, he told her about coming home to find his family all dead, shot execution-style and left in the blazing sun to rot in the field behind their house.

  There were things he left out. Most important, what he had planned. His revenge.

  As his words trailed off into silence, he looked up, saw the silver sheen of tears on her cheeks and felt a curious swooping pull inside his chest.

  “No.” He shook his head. “Don’t cry for me. It’s too late for that,” he told her.

  “What are you planning?” she finally asked, her voice flat, as if she’d tried to suppress all emotions. “Using the ammo to draw them here and then...what?”

  “Planning?” He lifted his chin. She was too astute for her own good. “I’m not planning anything.”

  “Now who’s not telling the truth?” Expression calculating, she stared at him. “You’ve accumulated a large amount of ammunition. There has to be a reason—that was one of the things our intel never got figured out. You probably made sure the cartel knows about it, too. Why?”

  Instead of answering, he dodged the question. “They don’t know where the ammo is. I’ve made sure of that.”

  “But they’re looking for it. That’s what those men who shot at us where doing here—searching for your ammo.”

  “Maybe. But they’ll never find it.”

  “Then what are you doing? I know you have some sort of plan.”

  He’d already gone this far. What the hell? She’d never be able to prove any of it. “The two men who killed my family are trying to break away from La Familia and form their own cartel. La Familia doesn’t take well to that kind of thing.”

  “So they both want your ammo. Why?”

  He shrugged, deliberately casual. “Maybe they both have heard it’s available.”

  “You really intend to sell it to the highest bidder?” She looked so disappointed and furious that he had to smile.

  “No. I don’t intend to sell it at all.” He waited while she processed that.

  “Then what?” Her frustration was evident in her voice. “What do you plan to do with it?”

  Instead of answering, he glanced back toward the ranch. “You know, sooner or later someone is going to discover Saint without a rider and come looking for me.”

  “Let them look.” She shrugged. “We’re dressed. Now tell me what you’re planning to do with the ammo. I’m guessing it involves revenge.”

  “End of discussion,” he said.

  “All right.” She crossed her arms. “The ATF never could learn where you came by your money. That’s one of the reasons why they suspect you of illegal activity.”

  “And you want to know where I got it?”

  “Yes.”

  He sighed. “I won the lottery. Right after I got out of the military, before I went home to find my family killed, I bought a ticket and won two hundred and fifty-one million dollars.”

  Of all the things she might have expected, it hadn’t been this. “But Texas law won’t let you remain anonymous.”

  “I know.” Scratching his head, he grimaced. “I hired a lawyer and a financial adviser. They helped me set up various corporations—all legal—in which to claim the money.”

  Her skeptical expression told him what she thought of that. “Still, I’d think there’d be some sort of trail to your name.”

  “I worried about that, too. After my family was killed, I changed it.” He paused, studying her as if debating whether to continue. “I used to have a different name.”

  Now her expression softened. “Do you regret that now?”

  “Sometimes. I’m used to being called Matt Landeta now, but when I think of having a son, I regret he won’t be able to carry on the family name.”

  “Then why don’t you change it back?”

  Before he could answer, someone shouted his name. José. And close. Not bothering to hide his relief, he turned and waved.

  “Tell me,” she pressed. “Before he gets here.”

  “I’ve already revealed enough, Skylar. When we get back to the ranch, I want you packed and gone before breakfast. Is that clear?”

  “Clear as mud.” Rather than compliant, she sounded mad as hell. “I have nothing to lose. My cover is blown. If you’re not illegally selling ammunition to the Mexican drug cartel, then tell me what you’re
doing. If you’re convincing enough, I might be able to persuade the ATF to leave you alone.”

  Now, that would be nice. But could he trust her? He wanted to, damn he wanted to. But the stakes were too high and he couldn’t risk it.

  So he did what he did best, deflected. Or tried to. “Look, I’m just a regular guy who happens to have a lot of ammo. Just because—”

  “Spare me the crap.” She sounded disgusted. “I get it, Matt. The cartel murdered your family and you’re out for revenge. But this isn’t the way to go about it. Those people don’t play. They’re ruthless and they have no qualms about killing.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that.” He spat the words, the old ache mingling with fury in his chest. “I’m well aware of what they do. I’m the one who found my mother’s body, right next to my father, a few feet from my brother. So don’t talk to me about what the cartel is willing to do.”

  His voice had been rising as he spoke, and by the time he got to the end of it, he was shouting. She looked at him as though he’d sprouted horns.

  Glancing back down at his friend, he saw José had nearly reached the bottom of the hill. Once he started climbing, he’d be there in a matter of seconds. Matt wondered how much he’d overheard.

  “Go,” he told Skylar, refusing to look at her now that he’d laid bare his grief. “Pretend like we never talked.”

  “Shall I also pretend like we never made love?” she asked, deliberately scathing, before moving away and beginning the hike back down the trail.

  She lifted her hand as she passed José, but didn’t stop. Instead, she kept going, back toward the ranch house, moving away. Away from him and out of his life.

  Though he knew this was all for the best, that didn’t stop it from hurting.

  * * *

  Pigheaded man. Skylar strode past a startled José, steaming back toward the ranch. She was a trained federal agent. She could help him. Why couldn’t he accept her words at face value? If he wanted justice, she was willing to help him capture the man or men responsible and make sure they stood trial.

  She would not, however, be a party to murder or illegal ammo sales. Not even for him.

  The distance was farther than she’d remembered and the sun beamed down hotly. She began wishing for water after ten minutes, and the unfamiliar soreness of her body turned into an actual ache by the time the ranch house came into sight.