The Specialist

The question surprised him, but he gave her a serious answer. “Yep. We’ve lost several head in the last few months. Why?”

“I was thinking back to last night. When I was out riding, I noticed a closed truck driving along this road.”

Rafe nearly ran off the road, swiveling his head to look at her. “You didn’t mention this before.”

“I wasn’t thinking about it earlier.”

“Did you get a look at the truck? A license plate? See the driver?”

“No, nothing like that. I noticed the truck because it seemed like an odd time to be out and about. I thought maybe it was a vegetable farmer on his way to town with produce or something.”

Rafe shook his head, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Not on this road. What color was the truck? And what direction was it traveling”

“White I think. It was going east. I wasn’t paying a lot of attention. You think it belonged to the rustlers?”

“I’d say it’s a pretty good chance.”

“Don’t they use horses?”

“Sure, but they need a truck to carry the animals away once they herd them. If you think of anything about that truck that might help us identify it, let one of us know. We’d really like to catch these guys.”

“I’m sorry. If I’d known it was important I’d have paid more attention.”

They lapsed into silence until they reached the Smoking Barrel.

“Are you up to a challenge?” Rafe asked as he hauled her suitcase from the back of the truck. She clung to the computer case, he noticed.

“What sort of a challenge?”

He set the suitcase in the hall near the stairs. “For starters, I need to see how well you can handle yourself in difficult situations.”

“I thought I was doing that rather well.”

Rafe tipped his head in rueful acknowledgement. “We have about an hour before dinner. Are you game to show me what you can do?”

“That depends on the game.”

“Let me take your cases upstairs and I’ll meet you in the basement.”

“The basement.”

Deliberately, Rafe stepped into her personal space and lowered his voice. “It’s where I take all my women.”

For an instant, her eyes opened wide behind the lenses of her ugly glasses. Then they narrowed while her lips pursed in annoyance. She shoved surprisingly hard at his chest. “Must make it hard to get a second date.”

Rafe stepped back with a bark of laughter. “You might be on to something there. However, in this case, the basement is the only appropriate place for what I have in mind.”

“Sorting laundry?”

“I’ll show you.”

Kendra watched him carry her cases upstairs. He was up to something and she had to go along. Mitchell Forbes had made that entirely clear this morning. Anything—even putting up with Rafe’s teasing—was worth obtaining her goal.

She followed him to the rear of the finished basement, surprised to find a small gym set up.

“You want me to work out?” She demanded, coming to an abrupt halt. “Sorry, I work on computers, I don’t lift them.”

Rafe chuckled again. The sound rippled right down her spine, inviting the listener to share his amusement.

“We’ll get to that part later. Take off your boots and step on the mats.” He was already removing his own boots.

“Planning to get kinky?” Her heart began pumping a little faster.

“Maybe later,” he said suggestively. Then he surged to his feet. He was a large, vital man. The basement abruptly felt isolated, locking the two of them away from the rest of the world. Rosa was just up the steps in the kitchen, but that seemed a long way off all of a sudden.

Kendra tugged off her own boots, wincing at the blister forming on the back of her left heel. She should have worn the boots more often to break them in.

“Still have your knife?”

She nodded tightly.

“I want you to come at me with it.”

“What?”

All traces of the humorous teasing had disappeared. “We’re going into a hostile environment, Kendra. I want to see just how well prepared you are to take care of yourself.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Prove it.”

Her heart pounded faster. “I might hurt you.”

“I’ll take that chance.”

It was the dismissive way he said the words. She set her jaw, stepped on the mat and started toward him reaching for her knife. His arm snaked out without warning. It happened so fast, the action was a blur. Rafe held her wrist in his grip, applying just enough pressure to make her fingers go numb.

“Lesson number one,” he said as he took the knife away as easily as if she were a child. “Never get close enough to let your assailant take your weapon away.”

“You weren’t able to take it away from me before.”

“No, I didn’t choose to take it away from you before.”

Angrily, she brought up her knee. Rafe deflected the action before he threw her lightly to the padded mat on the floor. He followed her down, pinning her there.

A wave of sensations swamped her while a spicy light masculine scent filled her head. Accompanying the annoying surge of awareness was humiliation at how easily he had defeated her.

His eyes were darkly kind, but it was his mouth, much too close to hers, that held her complete attention. Every hormone in her body leaped to unexpected life. What would it be like to be kissed by Rafe?