The Millionaire Cowboy's Secret Page 4

  She supposed she looked passable. Ready, she sat down. Hard. Up until now, she’d pushed that part of her assignment away, hoping it wouldn’t be necessary. Maybe she’d get lucky and it wouldn’t be.

  Yet she couldn’t deny the way her pulse picked up at the thought of some face time with Matt.

  Chapter 3

  What was her problem? Skylar scowled. She’d performed similar tasks, all under the guise of her job, in the past several years. Of course, she hadn’t slept with any of her suspects—she would go only so far, even for her precious job.

  But, she admitted the truth to herself, none of them had been as sexy as Matt Landeta.

  Her sources had been right. She hadn’t been prepared for the man in the flesh. She could only hope as time went on she’d grow immune to his considerable masculine charms. Considering the model/actress/centerfold type of woman he usually attracted, he probably wouldn’t even notice an ordinary woman like her. Which meant she’d have to work that much harder.

  Talia whined as though she understood. Leaning down, Skylar kissed the top of her furry little head. God, she loved that dog. She didn’t know what she’d do without her.

  A sharp tap on her door startled her out of her pity party. Jumping to her feet, she slipped into the awesome shoes and smoothed down her skirt. Talia barked, only once in warning, before a hand signal from Skylar had her lying back down.

  Willing her heartbeat to slow, Skylar took a deep breath and pasted on a friendly smile before she opened the door. But it wasn’t Matt, and her stomach clenched. A man who had to be José Nivas stood there, his hard gaze sweeping over her as though he was undressing her with his eyes. And the look he gave her wasn’t friendly. Definitely not friendly.

  She stared right back. Short and stocky, he’d decorated his olive skin with multiple tattoos. He had the tough look of a man who’d spent time in prison and now didn’t care what anyone thought of him.

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a sneering sort of smile. “Hey,” he said, crossing his arms.

  Straightening her spine, she speared him with a look. “Yes? Can I help you?” Steel and ice rang in her tone, along with the tiniest tremor that she couldn’t manage to suppress.

  Worse, he noticed it. Shaking his head, he took a step back. “Calm down, lady. Matt sent me to bring you up to the house for supper.”

  What the hell was wrong with her? She’d never, ever had this much trouble with an assignment before. Refusing to allow herself to feel foolish, she nodded. “Just give me a second, okay?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she pulled the door closed, shutting him out. Taking deep breaths, she rummaged in her jewelry bag for the chunky silver necklace and dangly earrings she usually wore with this particular dress.

  Meanwhile, Talia continued to regard her curiously. José’s appearance hadn’t alarmed her pet, and the dog was a damn good judge of character.

  Which, if she stopped to think about it, was odd. Talia shouldn’t like either of the men.

  Once she had her jewelry on, she grabbed her purse and her camera and opened the door again.

  Holding on to the side rail, she made her way gingerly down the three metal steps, hoping her sky-high heels didn’t trip her up. Watching her from the shade of a huge mesquite tree, José made no move to help her.

  Nice guy.

  “Be good, Talia,” she murmured before closing the door.

  They walked together in silence all the way to the house. Or rather, she trailed along behind him, noticing he made no move to slow his steps in allowance for her heels. That was okay, she told herself grimly, because she refused to hurry to try to keep pace with him.

  By the time they reached the back patio, even though she knew his actions were deliberate, she had to tamp down her fury as José held open the door. The slight smirk on his face told her he expected a reaction. Clearly, the battle lines were drawn.

  Summoning her fake bubbly persona, she beamed up at him. “Thank you so much for being kind enough to come get me.” Then, without waiting for an answer, she swept past him, her head held high. She didn’t bother to check to see if her refusal to let him antagonize her had registered.

  The instant she stepped inside the house, the aroma of lasagna or spaghetti or something Italian made her mouth water and her stomach growl. She’d managed to forget to eat lunch with everything going on, and whatever Matt was serving for dinner smelled amazing.

  Hmm. Maybe this assignment would have some culinary benefits, too? No doubt he had a full-time chef.

  As she headed in the direction of the kitchen, she steeled herself for her reaction to him.

  Matt looked up at her approach, his long-lashed eyes sweeping over her, approval shining in them. As she’d known she would, she felt his gaze like a punch in the gut.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked softly.

  “Nope.” He offered her a confident grin. “Pour yourself a glass of wine and hang out, if you want.”

  Instead, she got out her camera. Even though she found she used it more like a crutch around him, she couldn’t resist snapping a few photos.

  “What are you doing?” Matt asked quietly after she’d taken a shot of his pasta boiling on the stove.

  Despite the way she felt her face color, she managed a casual shrug. “You never know what other articles I can get out of these shots. With your permission, of course. A food magazine might want a short piece on dinner at Matt Landeta’s, you know?”

  “No, I don’t know.” Despite his noncommittal tone, she could swear she saw hurt flash across his face. “I’m not that well-known.”

  “Maybe not on a national level, you’re not.” She smiled. “But around here, you’re sort of a legend. I’m thinking D Magazine.”

  “I didn’t know you were freelance.”

  “Yep.” She kept her smile steady. “Journalist and photographer for hire.”

  Again his gaze swept over her, as though he expected her to say something else. Like what?

  When she didn’t speak again, he appeared to lose interest, turning away to tend to his sauce.

  Though she knew she shouldn’t, she couldn’t resist another push. “I’ll need your recipe, if you don’t mind.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “You nervous?” José asked, pulling out a chairand sitting down. Apparently Matt must have asked him to keep Skylar entertained so he could focus all his attention on cooking.

  “No, why?” she answered, lifting her chin as she met José’s gaze.

  “Your leg,” he said, pointing. To her consternation, she realized she’d been jiggling her leg, a nervous habit she’d abolished years ago.

  “Well, maybe a little,” she confessed, glancing at Matt and then mentally cursing when she realized what she’d done.

  When they were all seated in the dining room, Matt began passing around the bowls of food. “Spaghetti with clam sauce,” he said, looking directly at Skylar. “My specialty.”

  There was also salad and garlic toast. After a tentative first bite, Skylar relaxed. It was good. More than good. Restaurant quality. “You can sure cook,” she told Matt before twirling up another forkful of pasta. “This is marvelous!”

  He dipped his chin in a nod, barely sparing her a glance. Again she felt a bit uneasy, though for no good reason she could fathom.

  When they’d finished the meal, José jumped up and went into the kitchen, returning with a tiramisu that looked almost too good to eat.

  “Don’t tell me you made that, too,” Skylar said, eyeing the cake and wondering how she could possibly eat another bite.

  “Nope. I picked it up at the bakery.” Unabashed, Matt grinned at her. Despite thinking she had her armor firmly in place, she felt the warmth of that grin all the way to her tailbone.

  Which reminded her to straighten her spine. “None for me, thank you,” she said, keeping her expression pleasant. “I’m already full, and if I eat anything else, I’m going to need a nap.” Not to m
ention gain a couple of pounds.

  Rather than press her, Matt simply began cutting slices from the cake and passing them out. Eyeing the three layers of sin, Skylar’s mouth watered, but she managed to resist, pushing the piece of cake back into the middle of the table, where it sat, practically begging someone to eat it.

  “Testing yourself?” Matt asked, one eyebrow raised.

  Surprised at his perception, she almost nodded. But she caught herself just in time. “No, I’m just full.”

  The glint in his eyes practically calling her a liar, he dug in. She fiddled with her camera while he and José devoured the cake.

  Ignoring José’s glare, Skylar looked around, intrigued at this slice of Matt Landeta’s ordinary world.

  Finally, Matt pushed back his chair and stood. “Skylar, do you want to take a walk with me? We can sit outside on the patio and discuss the particulars of your photo shoot.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. He wanted to be alone with her? José’s narrowed eyes and tight lips told her what he thought of the idea. As for her...well, she was supposed to try to seduce Matt, after all. She hadn’t expected him to make it this easy.

  “Follow me,” he said, apparently taking her silence for consent.

  Intrigued despite herself, she did. They went into the kitchen, then out the back door onto the patio. Immediately, the greenery and flowers, along with the warmth of the evening air, soothed nerves she hadn’t even realized had become jangled.

  Turning to face her, Matt jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. Despite her earlier resolution to begin her seduction attempts, she stood frozen. Maybe because he looked...vulnerable.

  And devastatingly handsome both at the same time.

  Reminding herself who and what he was, she decided he was a damn good actor. As she needed to be, if she was going to successfully close this case.

  Swallowing hard, she tilted her head to look up at him. She knew how to flirt, knew to angle her pelvis just so or brush her breasts up against his chest.

  The only problem she had was that she still couldn’t force her body to cooperate. What she couldn’t figure out was why not. She’d never had a problem detaching herself from her job. She did what needed to be done and wrapped things up.

  Except now. She couldn’t even flirt with the guy.

  This angered her. She wasn’t weak or helpless. She was a crack shot, a damn good ATF agent, and she needed to do her job.

  “It’s a beautiful night. Relax with me,” he said.

  Flirting, she reminded herself. Simple flirting. She could do this—she’d done it at least twenty times on her last assignment.

  Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply, striving to find her center and the calm resolve that resided there. Instead, she caught a whiff of his scent, spearmint and the outdoors, masculine and tantalizing and too damn sexy for her equilibrium.

  Hurriedly, she opened them and looked around. A fat robin perched on the edge of the porch railing. Acting on instinct, she raised her camera and squeezed off a couple of shots. When she finally lowered the camera, he shook his head.

  “You look like you’re thinking about taking off and running away,” he drawled, moving slightly closer.

  Despite her instinctive desire to keep distance between them, she held her ground, gritting her teeth and trying like hell to look mildly interested. Scratch that—greatly interested.

  “Not running.” Her slightly breathless laugh had perfect timing, if she did say so herself. “But quite honestly, Matt, you’re a bit out of my league. I’m just a reporter who—”

  “Happens to be exquisitely lovely,” he interrupted smoothly.

  Despite knowing it was all an act, she couldn’t help blushing all over. “Er, thanks.” It should have helped that she knew the truth—she was passably pretty, but not even close to the level of women he usually had hanging on his elbow.

  Only one man had ever found her beautiful, and he was dead. She crushed that train of thought, aware now would be the worst possible moment to wallow in grief.

  Forcing herself to focus on Matt, she realized her reticence most likely was the very thing that made him want to pursue her. Men like him loved a challenge.

  Now would be the perfect time to say something. Anything, but she couldn’t seem to force words past her lips. Damn it. She couldn’t help wondering why it felt as if this assignment was already beginning to spiral out of control.

  The way he watched her with his head tilted just so told her he’d expected...more. Inwardly wincing, she knew she couldn’t give it to him. Not yet. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  Glancing at her watch, she knew she’d better go back to her trailer and figure out a plan of action. If doing this felt like retreating, then so be it. “I need to go. Thank you for dinner and everything, but tomorrow is going to be a big day with the photo shoot.”

  He raised his wineglass in a sort of farewell salute.

  Then, moving far too slowly on her too-high heels, she fled.

  * * *

  “What the hell was that all about?” José asked, coming up behind Matt. Together, they watched Skylar pick her way across the grass as she headed toward her trailer.

  Matt took a long drink of his wine before replying. “Damned if I know. She reminds me of one of those wild horses I picked up at auction.”

  José nodded, looking thoughtful. “I wonder if my information was correct. She sure doesn’t act like a federal agent.”

  Staring at her wobbly retreating back, Matt had to agree. “Double-check, will you? Either she’s really a photojournalist for that horse magazine or she’s a damn good actress.”

  “Will do.” José looked pensive, a rarity for him. “I’ve also tried three times to reach my buddy in Matamoros. He’s not answering and he hasn’t returned any of my calls. I’m worried about him.”

  With good reason. Anyone brave or foolish enough to go up against the largest of the Mexican drug cartels knew they were putting their life in danger. If they were caught, they would be lucky if they were merely killed. The usual modus operandi was brutal torture and a slow, agonizing death.

  “Keep trying.” Matt squeezed José’s shoulder. “Maybe he’s just busy.”

  “Maybe.” But José didn’t sound convinced. “He’s the one who’s been carrying messages back and forth between us and Diego Rodriguez.”

  Matt swore. “If he’s been caught, we’ll have to start all over.”

  “True.” Looking glum, José turned away. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find out something.”

  “Please do that.”

  After José left, Matt continued staring down at the little camper trailer where he’d put Skylar. The approaching sunset bathed the sky in a rosy-orange glow.

  A moment later, the door opened and the black-and-white dog bounded out, nearly pulling Skylar after.

  He noted she’d changed not only her high-heeled shoes, but she’d exchanged the dress for a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt. Even from this distance, she still looked hauntingly lovely. Every nerve ending in his body came alive as he watched her.

  Weird. While he wasn’t sure why he reacted so strongly to her, the fact that he did intrigued him enough to make him want to explore the connection more deeply.

  In the pasture, Skylar raised her arm and threw a red ball. Her dog joyously bounded after it, returning a moment later to drop it at Skylar’s feet.

  Matt grinned. There was nothing on earth like the happiness of a dog with one of its favorite toys. And when Skylar laughed, the musical sound carrying on the light breeze, he realized her uncomplicated joy equaled that of her pet’s.

  Taking another drink of wine, he debated joining her. He liked dogs, and even though he hadn’t allowed himself another one since his beloved Rottweiler was killed in the massacre, he wasn’t averse to spending time with hers.

  He frowned. Usually he wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself. He’d enjoy the dog, true. But it was the woman who fascinated him. It wasn’t he
r beauty—hell, ever since he’d won the lottery and become a multimillionaire, he had his pick of gorgeous women.

  Maybe, he mused, it could very well be the challenge of getting past her defenses that drew him to her. Either way, it had been a long time since he’d been attracted to any woman for any reason other than the occasional consensual sexual encounter.

  Before he had time to reconsider, he moved across the patio and headed down the sloping lawn toward her.

  The dog—Talia, he remembered—saw him first and came bounding across the grass to greet him. With one joyous bark and a series of acrobatic spins, the black-and-white fur ball launched into an elaborate greeting. He could swear the border collie wore a silly canine grin the entire time.

  Skylar not so much. Expression wary, she eyed him with the same enthusiasm one might give a rattlesnake coiled in the grass. Her earlier carefree expression had been replaced by guarded curiosity.

  Though he felt a twinge of remorse, he pretended not to notice.

  “Mind if I join you?” he asked, aware she most probably did.

  “No problem,” she replied, her smooth voice and pleasant expression giving away the lie, though he doubted she realized how transparent she was.

  Though he’d originally intended to discuss his horses, giving credence to his pretense of believing her cover story, as he watched her with her dog, he chose silence instead.

  After she realized he didn’t intend to chat, she went back to playing with her pet, though she never completely relaxed.

  Watching her, he tried to analyze why Skylar continued to fascinate him. She was pretty, though not his type. As a rule, he favored tall, leggy blondes rather than curvy redheads. Even ones who exuded an unconscious sex appeal, as she did.

  No, he decided, it wasn’t just physical. It had to be her inner vulnerability that fascinated him. He’d noticed the shattered expression flash across her face as she took in his home, his life. He’d seen the pain—from what?—that she’d tried so earnestly to hide.