The Millionaire Cowboy's Secret Page 8

  “Actually, I think that’s my line,” he said, unsmiling. Arms crossed, a grim expression turned his features to stone. “This is my bedroom, after all.”

  Mouth dry, she stared at him, searching for a plausible explanation, and came up empty. Instead, she finally nodded. “I...er...was curious?”

  A muscle worked in his jaw. He didn’t respond. She hadn’t really expected him to.

  Any moment now, in fact, she anticipated an explosion. And she really didn’t want to be around when it came. In fact, she wouldn’t blame him if he evicted her from the ranch.

  With that thought in mind, she began backing away from him and the nightstand, hoping for a clear shot to the door. Maybe she could get out of here, hide out in her camper until he calmed down. If she had some time, she thought she could come up with a somewhat plausible explanation.

  Instead, he moved with her. His hand shot out and gripped her wrist tightly.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he growled.

  Alarmed, at first, she froze again. He was breathing harshly, his eyes glittering in the dim light. A slow heat began low in her belly, and she realized—holy hell—she was actually incredibly, unbelievably, turned on.

  What the hell?

  Swallowing hard, she let her gaze drift over his broad chest, flat stomach, to the apparent bulge developing in the front of his formfitting jeans. Apparently she wasn’t the only one turned on.

  The thought just barely crossed her mind when he made a sound low in his throat, a mixture of a curse and a groan. Then, while she was trying to process what this meant, he yanked her to him and slanted his mouth over hers. His kiss was hard and punishing and more arousing than any kiss she’d experienced. Ever.

  Even with Robbie. Pushing away the stab of guilt she felt at the disloyal thought, she gave herself over to sensation. It had been so long, so damn long. His hands—oh, his hands—holding her close, stroking her, caressing her, making her want more. Right. Here. Right. Now.

  She heard a moan, then realized the sound had come from her. He, too, appeared similarly affected, his heart pounding in his chest so rapidly and strongly she could feel it against her skin.

  This felt amazing. And wrong. So, so wrong.

  Breathing hard, she summoned up every ounce of rationality she could and pushed herself back, ending the kiss. As she stared at him, she was shocked that she could even stand since her legs felt absurdly weak and wobbly.

  All at once, it dawned on her. Now the way to the door was clear. Stunned and panicked, shocked and shaking, and still way too aroused, she rushed toward it, both relieved and disgruntled when he made no move to stop her.

  For the rest of the day, she hid out in her trailer. Anytime she saw movement anywhere close, she tensed, certain it would be Matt asking her to leave. She couldn’t blame him. She’d react the same way if the situation had been reversed. A journalist had no reason to be snooping through his personal belongings. And no matter what, she couldn’t blow her cover.

  The day dragged on and there was no sign of Matt. The tightness in her chest began to ease somewhat. Maybe he wouldn’t ask her to go. Which made no sense. A big fan of logic, anything illogical made her temporarily crazy. Crazy enough, in fact, that she half-assed considered marching up to the house, finding Matt and demanding an explanation.

  She did not, of course. She fed Talia and took her out. At loose ends, feeling uncomfortable in her own skin, she fixed herself a sandwich from the supplies Matt had thoughtfully put in the refrigerator and ate at the camper table by herself. She watched the news on the small television, grimacing as she peered out the window every time there was the slightest sound outside.

  Finally as the day turned into dusk, and dusk became night, she realized, for whatever reason, she’d been given a reprieve.

  Problem was, she didn’t know for how long. So she needed to step up her efforts to find the ammo. Starting immediately.

  Climbing into bed early, she set her cell-phone alarm to wake her up at two o’clock in the morning. Surely by then everyone on the ranch would be asleep.

  The plan she’d hatched wasn’t perfect, but it was the best she could do. Matt’s ranch was several thousand acres and there was no way she could explore it on foot.

  Since she couldn’t use an ATV even if she had access to one—the noise would wake everyone up—she planned to use one of Matt’s horses.

  Earlier when she’d questioned one of the trainers, she’d learned the mare they’d put in the first stall on the left in the old barn was the most gentle and the one they used for visitors who were unskilled at horseback riding. Though she wasn’t a novice, she was rusty. So she’d use his mare to ride out to the far side of the ranch.

  She’d lucked out with the full moon—since there were no streetlights out here, or even streets, riding in the pitch-black of a moonless night would have been a dangerous proposition.

  Either way, she felt quite certain her permanent eviction from the ranch was imminent. So she had no time to waste.

  Leaving the trailer, she made it to the tack room and retrieved a well-worn English-style saddle, halter, bit and reins. Crossing the well-lit parking lot might be tricky, but she had no choice. She figured everyone would be asleep anyway.

  Once she reached the old barn, she realized the huge door was closed. Praying that when she opened it it wouldn’t make a lot of noise, she placed the saddle and tack on the ground, and began to pull on the door.

  The squeal of metal was loud, but not deafening. Still, she froze, afraid someone might have a dog that would begin barking an alert.

  But after a few seconds, when nothing happened, she pushed the door the rest of the way open.

  The mare nickered softly as Skylar opened the stall door. Though moving a bit clumsily from lack of practice, she managed to get the horse saddled and place the bit in the mare’s mouth.

  She led the horse out into the stable yard before placing her foot in the stirrup and swinging her leg over.

  Settling on the mare’s back, she touched her calves to the horse’s sides and urged her forward. Keeping to a walk, she rode out of the courtyard and into the first of the eastern pastures.

  From the dossier she’d studied over and over, she knew Matt had divided the ranch into several pastures. The ones closest to the house were twenty acres, the next row consisted of forty-acre sections, and then after that lay open range land, fenced only at the extreme borders.

  The far eastern edge of Matt’s property bordered a farm-to-market road and was remote and unusable, due to cliffs and rocks. This was the area where the ATF suspected him of storing the ammo. Her task would be to locate the shed or warehouse and make notes on precise coordinates as well as surroundings. That way they could have a team in place so they’d have eyes when the actual deal went down. What Matt didn’t realize—what most civilians didn’t understand—was that the ATF needed just one tiny shred of evidence that he might be involved in illegal activities in order to legally swoop in and take everything.

  One shred. Whether it was selling weapons and ammo without a permit or some other charge, they didn’t need absolute proof, just enough evidence to convince a judge they should investigate. And since investigating could also mean confiscating everything, Matt would be out of business before he even got started.

  Her job was to find that evidence.

  Confidently, she consulted her compass and continued in the correct direction. When she reached the first gate, she was able to open and close it without dismounting.

  It took a little longer to cross the second, larger pasture. When she finally reached the next gate, she was unable to unlatch it without getting off her horse.

  Once she had, she led the mare through and closed the gate securely behind her.

  Here, the land became hillier. She rode up the first rolling hill, glad the land flattened out once she reached the top. The full moon cast an eerie glow on the landscape, and she shivered as an owl hooted mournfully.

>   Yet despite it all, she found it breathtakingly beautiful. If she’d been there for any other reason, she would have added peaceful and serene to that description.

  Ahead she could see the large boulders dotting the landscape. But no cattle, she couldn’t help but notice. Maybe Matt kept them on a different part of the ranch.

  By her best calculations, it would take her a good hour to reach the first area she wanted to explore. If her estimate was correct, and she took her time checking out the area, she’d have the mare back at the barn with time to brush her down well before sunrise.

  Settling into the easy rhythm of the horse’s steps without relaxing her guard entirely, she felt a sense of peace steal over her. She’d missed horseback riding, though she’d been unable to bear the idea of doing something alone that she and her husband had loved to share.

  This time, though, for this ride she felt no sense of guilt or even loss. Possibly because she was simply doing her job rather than going for a pleasure ride.

  As she crested another minor rise, the land stretched ahead as far as she could see. Matt’s land, tied to him in an intimate and physical way as far as she was concerned. The moonlight gave everything a silver cast, but with the immense black night sky above and the clear view of a thousand stars, she felt a sense of how small, how insignificant she was in relation to the universe.

  Humbling. Continuing to ride, she didn’t dare urge her mare to pick up the pace. The uneven ground was rocky and could be treacherous to a horse, so she let the reins lie slack on the mare’s neck, trusting her mount to choose the right path.

  Ahead, a worn dirt trail led up a rocky bluff. Whether by instinct or habit, the horse headed for that path.

  Once they reached the top of the bluff, Skylar could at last see the road that marked the eastern border of Matt’s ranch. The bluff, pitted with boulders and rocks and sagebrush, ran parallel to the road.

  It all appeared to be deserted.

  A sound—out of place and almost mechanical—had her freezing. Reining her horse in, she slid from the mare’s back and led her mount behind a huge boulder, next to some sort of short, twisted tree.

  Draping the reins around a branch and tying them loosely, she crept forward alone, her heart pounding. Was she finally about to discover what until now the ATF had only suspected—illegal ammunition sales taking place? Would this night, so soon after her earlier debacle, be the one where she found the necessary evidence?

  Sidling from rock to rock, keeping low to the ground, she finally made it to the other side of the bluff. Peering around cautiously, she saw nothing.

  Then what had made the sound? It had sounded like a chisel hitting a rock or a hammer taking a good crack at a nail.

  Or a gun cocking.

  Holding herself absolutely still, she waited to see if she’d hear it again. A moment later, she did. The sharp report seemed to echo off the rocks, a moment of discordance marring the otherwise perfect night. And then again, and again. Muted, yet loud in the perfect silence.

  Moving forward carefully, she peered around a boulder. There in a clearing in front of her were two huge deer, horned bucks clashing their antlers at each other ferociously. As she moved closer, she heard one whistle and another snort.

  A deer fight at night.

  Pushing to her feet, she made enough sound to attract their attention. Waving her arms madly, she started toward them. Instantly spooked, they took off in opposite directions.

  She stood and watched them go, awed despite herself. While she’d grown up in these parts and seen plenty of deer, she’d never been witness to bucks fighting over mating rights. She’d seen the damage done to trees by them scraping the velvet from their antlers, but not the actual sparring.

  Smiling to herself, she circled around and retrieved her horse. She’d done enough exploring for one night. Time to head back to the ranch.

  After she’d returned to the old barn, she tied the mare outside the stall and removed the saddle and replaced the bit with a halter. She carried the saddle and bit back to the tack room. In there, she located a curry brush and brushed the horse down before putting her back into her stall.

  With a buoyant step, she hurried across the parking lot, keeping close to the shadows and hoping Talia wouldn’t make a loud fuss when she returned.

  She made it back to her trailer before dawn. Her watch showed a few minutes after five o’clock, which meant her little exploratory trip had taken about three hours. Though she’d found nothing and should have been frustrated, she’d honestly enjoyed her moonlit ride and unexpected wildlife encounter. The fact that she hadn’t been discovered made it even better.

  Talia greeted her sleepily with a muffled woof before she turned a circle or two and settled back down in her bed.

  After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she changed into her large, comfy T-shirt and climbed into bed. Sometimes she had trouble going back to sleep. She’d bet she wouldn’t this morning. She’d probably drop off an instant after her head hit the pillow.

  In fact, lying down was the last thing she remembered before something woke her. Knock, knock. Jumping down from the bed, Talia woofed softly, letting Skylar know whoever was at her door wasn’t a threat. Squinting at the clock, Skylar saw it was six-thirty. Still early. What the heck? Had she managed to forget some appointment?

  “Skylar, are you in there?”

  Matt. Again.

  Belatedly, she remembered his discovering her in his bedroom and the blazingly hot kiss they’d shared. Had he decided to wait until the morning to toss her out?

  He knocked again. “Are you in there?”

  “Yes,” she managed. “I was asleep. What’s wrong?” While she couldn’t afford to be too ungracious, she’d only gotten a little more than an hour of sleep. She imagined she looked as if she’d been run over by a truck. She certainly felt that way.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he said, sounding close, despite the metal separating them. “We’ve got a big breakfast waiting up at the house, if you’re interested.”

  Groggy, she stared at the door. Instead of kicking her out, he was inviting her to breakfast? Her stomach growled, but she was more interested in sleep.

  “I know you have an article to write and a deadline, so I thought we could get started on that. I don’t want you photographing the horses that have burns, but I’ve got several others you can take pictures of.”

  Her cover. Right. “When?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and hoping he’d give her enough time to down at least half a pot of coffee, liberally spiked with her favorite energy drink.

  “Right after breakfast,” he said. Then, to her horror, the trailer door opened and Matt stepped inside.

  Gaping at him while her traitorous dog bounced around greeting him with effusive joy, she dragged a hand through her hair and winced.

  Now he smiled. He looked so damn handsome her body came instantly awake. Of course, her mouth went dry as she thought of the kiss they’d shared.

  Damn.

  “You don’t look like you’ve slept too well,” he pointed out. She had to bite her tongue to keep from making a sarcastic reply.

  “I didn’t,” she said instead, eyeing him and hating the way she felt as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  He waited, his silent gaze challenging her to say something. Defiantly, she tossed her undoubtedly horrible hair and crossed her arms. Damned if she’d say it first.

  “What were you doing in my room yesterday?” he finally asked, as nonchalantly as if discussing the weather.

  Swallowing hard, she mentally cursed her lack of a believable answer. “I’m a journalist,” she finally said. “I was looking for hints to the true you.”

  Lame, but the best she had at the moment. And closer to the truth than he’d ever know.

  One dark brow arched. “You’re not writing an exposé,” he pointed out. “You are doing a story on my Arabians, right?”

  “Yes, of course.” Indignant—and that not enti
rely faked—she sat up straight. “But the article is also about you as a breeder and rancher.” Swallowing, she managed what she hoped was a contrite expression. “I was wrong to search your room without your permission. I promise it won’t happen again.”

  He eyed her for a moment, as though considering. When he finally gave a slight nod, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Just see that it doesn’t. Now, about the photo shoot...”

  Round one to him. “When did you want to do that?” she asked.

  “I was going to suggest we start after breakfast.” He smiled at the horrified look she gave him. “But since you’re so obviously not awake, how about you meet me in the big outdoor riding arena in an hour? Will that work?”

  She struggled to focus on what he was saying, trying not to stare at his mouth and wonder if she could kiss him again.

  “I’m sorry, what?” she asked, knowing he’d blame it on the sleep fog that still must have been clouding her brain.

  “I asked if you could meet me in an hour at the big riding arena.” He dropped his gaze from her face to her chest, almost as if her thoughts had telegraphed themselves to him.

  She nodded as a rush of heat suffused her. Like before, she suddenly became super conscious of the thin cotton of her shirt and her braless state, made even more evident by the fact that her nipples had decided to stand at attention, practically waving at him to notice them.

  “That I can do,” she said with a touch more enthusiasm than necessary. “I’ll have to pass on your kind invitation to eat, but I’ll be there.”

  Still he stood there, as if torn between leaving and climbing into bed with her. She felt an instant burning desire to lift the sheet in invitation. Horrified, mortified and more turned on that she should be, instead she pointedly glanced toward the door.

  Finally he got the hint. Turning, he grasped the handle and pushed the door open. “Don’t be late,” he said, delivering his parting shot before shutting the door in her face.

  Damn. Next time, she vowed, next time she wouldn’t let him come in. He could talk to her through the metal or not at all.