Maverick / The Playboy's Passionate Pursuit: Maverick / The Playboy's Passionate Pursuit

Tanner stared in amazement as he brought the SUV to a stop in front of her hotel. It was early, still dark, not so much as a hint of gray on the eastern horizon. But standing in the well-lit entranceway of the hotel, leaning indolently against the brass handrail, he spotted the incongruous heels at once.

At any other time, the so-called shoes—consisting of two narrow straps across her toes and ribbons wound around her ankles, paper-thin soles and those slim, long, spiked heels—would have looked sexy. Worn with jeans and a field jacket over a green camp shirt, they looked ludicrous…and sexy.

Brianna stood there waiting for him, her gear piled next to her left leg, the strap handle of a rifle carrier in her right hand by her side. To his chagrin, her gorgeous mass of auburn hair was tucked away inside a New York Yankees baseball cap. He felt plain, ordinary and underdressed in black jeans, a black leather jacket and sturdy boots. He also had pulled his hair away from his face, tied it with a leather thong at his nape.

Stepping from the SUV, Tanner circled around the back to open the trunk lid. The hotel doorman stashed the gear next to Tanner’s. Before he could dip into a pocket to tip the man, Brianna handed him a couple bills and uttered a soft, “Thank you.”

“Good morning,” Tanner said to her.

“Mmm,” she hummed in reply, turning away to get into the front passenger seat.

It would appear she was still ticked off at him. Tanner sighed and slid behind the wheel. Mentally shrugging, he drove away from the hotel, heading out of Durango.

“I love your shoes,” he drawled. “I can just imagine you tromping around rough mountainous terrain in them.”

She laughed. “I’d hoped you’d appreciate them.”

“Oh, I do. They’re spectacular, and the color is perfect. Glittery gold straps go great with jeans, field jackets and caps.”

“I thought so.” She laughed again when he flashed her a grin. “I’m sorry to have to disappoint you, but I won’t be wearing them to tromp around any rough terrain. I do have hiking boots with me.”

“Aw, gee, that’s too bad,” he said. “I was looking forward to watching you try to keep up with me.” Now the quick look he sent her was glittery with teasing. “Then again, I’ll likely still be watching you try to keep up with me.”

“In your dreams,” Brianna shot back. “What you’ll likely be watching is my back.”

Tanner couldn’t help himself; he roared with laughter. She was so damned sure of herself, so boldly feisty. He also couldn’t help but admire her. On the spot, he decided it was probably because she reminded him of himself.

“We’ll see,” he said, still chuckling.

“Yes, I guess we will.” She grew quiet, gazing out through the windshield and side window at the landscape as it changed from mountainous to flatter, barren desert.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Not far from Mesa Verde.”

“Mesa Verde? I thought you said our quarry was headed deep into the San Juan Mountains.”

“What I said was I had picked up a rumor that he was heading there.” He spared her a brief glance. “Before I go tearing into the mountains, I want to check out the rumor for myself.”

“And who are you going to check out these rumors with—the ghosts of the Indians who lived there?” Her tone held more than a hint of sarcasm.

“Clever,” he said, sighing. “Actually, I didn’t say we were going to Mesa Verde itself. The rumor I’d picked up was that he had been spotted around Mesa Verde before hightailing it to the mountains. I’m headed for a town where the rumor came from.”

“Oh, okay.” Brianna was quiet for a moment—a short moment. “I wouldn’t mind stopping in Mesa Verde.”

Stunned by her startling remark, Tanner nearly lost control of the vehicle. It went off the road, onto the rough shoulder, before he righted it.

“You want to do what? Have a look-see at Mesa Verde?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Brianna,” Tanner said between clenched teeth, “I thought we were out here to search for a rapist/killer, not go on a sightseeing jaunt.”

“Well, of course we are,” she said, abrading his irritation with her reasonable tone. “I meant someday I’d like to explore the cliff dwellings.”

“I’m sorry.” In truth, he wasn’t at all sorry. “I thought you wanted me to stop today to go crawling around the ruins, and we have no time to waste.”

“But you wasted all day yesterday,” she protested.

Tanner was on the sharp edge of impatience. “Brianna, I told you I had a lot to do yesterday. Besides having to make some phone calls to tie up a few loose ends, I had to get our food supplies, which I paid for.”

She sighed. “Okay, explanation accepted.”

“Big of you,” he drawled with a bite.

“I know,” she said sweetly. “And, of course, I’ll reimburse you for the supplies.”

“Damned straight you will, honey.” His voice had a hard edge he didn’t like. Get a grip, Wolfe, he warned himself, before you find yourself without a mission…and the company of the gorgeous but irritating Brianna. As he fully expected, she retaliated.

“Don’t go all predator on me. I’m not one of your prey,” she shot back at him. “And don’t call me ‘honey.” ’

Predator? She thought of him as a predator? Tanner frowned, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or curse a blue streak. Hell, predators killed their prey, sometimes ate it. He worked hard not to kill his, even the ones who deserved it. And he sure as hell didn’t eat his prey, the mere thought revolting.

On second thought, he mused, gliding a quick glance over her body, he wouldn’t mind taking a nip of Brianna’s satiny-looking skin. The mere thought of tasting her was enough to stir his body. Get your mind back to business, Wolfe, he warned himself, where it’s safe. This ultrasuperior, haughty, independent woman was not for tasting, not by him. Damned shame, too.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” he said, shifting in his seat to relieve an uncomfortable ache in that sensitive area. “You don’t call me ‘predator,’ and I won’t call you ‘honey.’ Deal?”

“Deal,” she said, shaking the hand he held out to her.

“How about ‘sweetheart’?” he asked, not missing a beat.

“Tanner Wolfe,” Brianna cried sternly, before she gave way to laughter. “You’re a…a…”

“Devil?” he asked, grinning in delight at having made her laugh instead of berating him.

She raised her hands in surrender. “I give up,” she said. “You win—for now.”

“Looks like a draw to me,” he said as he slowed down. “Good timing, too. We’re here.”

“So I see,” Brianna said, peering through the windshield as he drove into the town. “This is it?”

“Yeah, I know, not much to look at.”

“A little larger than other towns I’ve driven through.” She sat forward, as far as the seat belt allowed, to get a better look at the old town.

“Will we be here long enough for me to look for a coffee shop or diner? I need some caffeine.”

He parked the SUV in front of a small café. “You want to go traipsing around in those?” He sent a pointed look at her shoes.