Undercover Protector

“Grayson Wilson. But you can call me Gray.” Though working undercover, he’d keep his first name. Easy enough to answer to that. Wilde would be off the books.

“I’m Gemma Rollins. I run Tiger Mountain, the sanctuary on the other side of this road. You might have noticed it since you were out wandering the area.” Her tone sounded suspicious.

Gemma Rollins. Tiger Mountain’s founder.

So much for his surveillance efforts. He should have known, though she looked nothing like the pictures, where she always had on sunglasses. Her eyes would have been a dead giveaway.

She shifted her focus to the road and then turned to him. “Well, are you coming? I want to get someplace dry.”

“And then you’ll call the sheriff, right?” The county maintained the mountain road, and she might want the report for her insurance.

Calling the sheriff was the right move for her, so Gray ignored the twinge he felt at the thought. Gray hadn’t wanted to run into the man so soon on this operation, but Sheriff Kruse would likely send a deputy out instead and, in that case, Gray could keep his cover unless it was Deputy Callahan. In theory, it would be safe enough to read in the local cops on his investigation...but in practice, it was a whole different story. Sometimes, even law enforcement could be involved in trafficking.

“Yes. We need to let the county know about the mud and trees on the road.”

She continued to favor her right leg over her left.

Gray asked, “Are you sure you’re not hurt? You’re limping.”

Gemma stopped and turned to look at him, staring at him with her determined and enormous, crystal-clear hazel eyes. Why hadn’t he known about the eyes beforehand?

Like that would have kept them from affecting him now. He didn’t want to stop looking at them.

“I was injured years ago. Nerve damage. My limp is part of me now. If you had let me grab my cane out of the Jeep, I’d be using that to walk.”

Gray was embarrassed. Why hadn’t he noticed a cane in the few pictures he’d seen? “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” He almost offered to assist her in walking, but the set of her jaw told him that would be the wrong thing to do.

“It’s okay. I understand. You were being a hero, and you couldn’t have known you were rescuing a debilitated damsel. Honestly, I didn’t expect anyone to hear my cries for help, much less a stranger to arrive to whisk me out of the Jeep. Thank you for that.” Her soft smile wiped away the furrow in her brow but not the anguish—the deep-seated agony—behind her eyes.

Gray had come here to bring this woman down if she was involved in the trafficking ring—and especially if she was involved, even indirectly, in Bill’s death. It seemed more than likely that she was part of the trafficking ring as founder of the sanctuary that was somehow connected.

How could she not be aware of the trafficking going on right under her nose? But looking at her now, Gray doubted his certainty. He could clearly see there was so much more going on in that head of hers. Finding answers would not be as easy as he’d hoped.

Especially when his natural drive to protect the innocent ignited for Gemma. Because if she wasn’t involved in the ring, then she could be in danger.

All he knew was that he had a feeling Gemma Rollins had just reversed their roles and she was about to make trouble for Gray. Either that or he had just made a world of trouble for himself in coming here.

TWO (#u10314a42-35db-5031-bdb3-4598c854435d)

Gemma kept up the warm and friendly banter while she shared the mountain road with Gray. She appreciated his assistance out of the CJ. She could have died without Gray’s help.

But she kept the conversation superficial. Gray was still a stranger and she didn’t know what he could have been doing on the mountain or on the road during this storm. She had even more reason to be wary given the saboteurs who had caused her too many problems already in the form of vandalism to the property. They hoped to sabotage her efforts to provide a reputable sanctuary for tigers. Could Gray be connected to them? It was certainly possible.

Pain throbbed up her leg, pain that seemed to ignite in full force when she was stressed in any way. And with all the stress in her life lately, that meant a lot of over-the-counter painkillers. She’d managed so far without prescription painkillers and wouldn’t start now, if she could help it.

She must have flinched because she saw him eyeing her with concern. “So what happened back there, anyway?” he asked. “You come around that curve too fast? Or was it the muddy deluge in the road that took you out?”

Gemma scoffed. “Let’s just say it was the perfect storm. My steering went out and the brakes couldn’t handle the slope.” She didn’t want to go on, fearing he might berate her for her lack of vehicle maintenance. She tried to ignore that gnawing in the back of her mind that it was something more threatening.

His demeanor changed—a subtle shift, but it was there.

Gemma shouldn’t have revealed so much. “I know, I know. Vintage doesn’t have to be unsafe.”

He cracked a grin.

Gray might be a stranger on this mountain, but he elicited a smile from her in return. She glanced at him. Covered in mud, he was kind of scruffy-looking, his hair hanging to his shoulders and making him resemble a character in an epic fantasy movie. He’d been there, right when she’d needed him. But...she was itching to ask what he’d been doing on the road.

Gemma wished she wasn’t a conspiracy theorist. Hoped that she was being entirely too suspicions, but she’d been through so much already. And where was this guy’s vehicle? Either something didn’t add up or Gemma didn’t have all the information necessary to fill in the equation. She suspected the first but hoped for the latter.

A vicious cramp shot pain up her leg and Gemma slipped and fell, letting out a yelp.

Humiliation scoured her. If not for her limp, she wouldn’t have gone down. Pebbles and rocks bit into her backside, adding to the mud already there.

Gray whisked her up and into his arms before she could protest. The concern in his face, the compassion in his warm brown eyes, told her she had nothing to fear from him. But she had never trusted her own judgment when it came to men like Gray—handsome men, whom Gemma could be attracted to if she let herself. Fortunately, her single-minded focus on her work meant she hadn’t run into that many men like Gray. Warmth spread through her as she rested in his arms and against his broad chest, or was the warmth from the embarrassment of her fall?

He grinned, though the distant rumble of trouble boiled in his gaze. “It’s okay, Gemma. I’m handy to have around at times like these.”

The guy made her laugh, easing her humiliation. “I see that.”

“And I know my timing is off, but—” he cleared his throat “—it’s about time for my interview. You want to interview me here and now or wait until we get to headquarters?”

Huh?

He must have noticed her bewilderment because he laughed. “I’m interested in your volunteer position.”

Gemma slapped her hand onto her head. “Oh! Oh, this is...well...put me down now.”

Without argument, he set her on her feet. “I’m just trying to show that I can be useful as a volunteer.”

Through the woods, Gemma spotted the main sprawl of buildings. “We’re close. Let’s get inside, dry off and warm up, and we’ll talk about volunteer work over a hot cup of cocoa. Is that all right?”

“Sounds perfect.” He flashed a nice set of teeth.

At least she had a reason to hope that he wasn’t connected with the saboteurs now. It didn’t make sense that someone would volunteer to help her if he really wanted to hurt someone. But the thought caused a shadow in her heart. She didn’t want that to be the case for Gray Wilson. She could ask any hard questions—What he was doing on the road? Where was his vehicle?—once they were inside with the others. But she didn’t want to think he was up to no good. His actions had proven otherwise so far.

Gemma led him through the side door of the main facility they hoped to open up for public education and training in the next few weeks. “This is the resource building. There’s a big fire roaring in the fireplace for days like this. So have a seat. I’ll get you a towel to dry off and a blanket to get warm.”

The faux leather couches could be wiped clean of mud and debris.

She disappeared down a hall toward her office, where she found Cara, her friend and employee, busy working on the computer recording data for the tigers and ordering supplies.

She glanced up at Gemma and gasped. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story. I have a guy out there, Gray Wilson, who says he was coming in for an interview today?”

Cara nodded. “Yeah. I left a message on your voice mail. He called this morning, and you said you needed help and, well, I thought you’d be back in time.”

“I met him on the mountain.”