Shotgun Daddy

“Second thoughts? Heavens, no.”

She was amazed to hear the amused astonishment in her tone—amazed and grateful. Because everything depended on pulling off the act she wanted him to buy, Caro told herself—her self-esteem, her ability to get past this moment without falling apart, her pride.

“Last night satisfied my curiosity, Gabe. You said it yourself—I see men like you doing work around my father’s estate, or as hired security at a function. My girlfriends and I’ve always thought it might be thrilling in a naughty way to spend a night with that type of man.” She forced a laugh. “You were a fantasy come true, and it was even kind of fun having to persuade you, but you’re right—the ground rules still stand. It would be embarrassing for both of us if you showed up on my doorstep in the mistaken belief that this had been anything more than it was.”

She tipped her head to one side. “This never happened, you won’t call me, and I don’t have to worry about running into you again. Promise?”

“Sure,” he said tonelessly. “But the next time you get curious, honey, consider calling an agency who sends the kind of man you’re looking for out on house calls. That way you won’t have to worry about any misunderstandings at all.”

The drive to Aspen had been conducted in near-total silence, Caro remembered now. Gabe had dropped her off in front of a five-star hotel, she’d checked into a suite, and after drawing herself a bath so hot that billows of perfumed steam rose from the tub, she’d immersed herself in a vain attempt to melt the core of ice that seemed to have formed inside her.

The ice hadn’t melted—not then, and not upon her return to Albuquerque, where she’d informed her father that she’d broken off her engagement to a man he’d seen as an eminently suitable prospective husband for her. It hadn’t melted over the following weeks during the rounds of parties she’d forced herself to attend. And then one day she’d frowned at the calendar, made a quick calculation, and had felt the first hairline fissure appear in the numbness she’d begun to think had become a permanent part of her.

A few days later she’d shakily dialed the number she’d obtained for Gabe. He was going to be a father. She was carrying his child. Surely opening the conversation with a bombshell like that would catch him off guard enough that he would listen to the rest of what she had to tell him—that he’d misinterpreted the dismay he’d seen on her face when he’d awoken that morning, that a lifetime of being Caroline Moore, daughter of a man who’d taught her from childhood that emotions were to be concealed, had caused her to clutch at her pride instead of revealing her true feelings.

“I would have poured it all out to him if he’d still been there to answer that phone call,” Caro said out loud, her hands gripping the SUV’s wheel and her gaze fixed on the empty desert landscape rushing by. But he hadn’t been. It had all been true on his part— Gabe Riggs was a loner who didn’t stick around long enough to have relationships. She was glad she had found out before the baby was born. No child needed a father who’d rather be somewhere else, instead of tied down to a woman he had no fond memories of and a baby he hadn’t planned on.

Which made her current quest all the more ironic, she thought tensely. Because right now the only man who could help her was the one man she’d assumed she would never see—

She hit the SUV’s brakes to avoid whizzing past the gas station she’d been told to watch for. It was no wonder she’d nearly missed the building, she thought as she maneuvered around a truck that had been abandoned beside what remained of a pair of gasoline pumps. The structure was close to being a ruin. No one had lived here for decades.

Jess’s information had to be wrong.

Caro brought the sports utility to a stop, tears of disappointment and fear pricking at the back of her eyes. Even as her vision blurred she blinked the tears back.

At one end of the ramshackle building a rusty nail protruded from a broken board. Slung from the nail was what she’d first taken as a rag but on second glance proved to be a shirt. It wasn’t faded enough to have been hanging there for years.

She opened the door, stepped out of the vehicle and walked to the side of the building.

He was standing beneath an oil drum that had obviously been rigged up as a primitive shower. Water was sprinkling down through holes punched into the bottom of the drum. He was lean muscle and whip-cord sinews and bronzed hide. He was completely naked.

Caro’s breath caught in her throat. She put her hand on the side of the building to steady herself.

Gabe looked over his shoulder and his gaze met hers. “Don’t come another step closer,” he said flatly.

She’d expected hostility from him, she acknowledged numbly. She hadn’t expected the piercing pain that demolished her already-shaky defences at this curt evidence that whatever Gabe Riggs might once have felt for her was dead and gone.

He reached up to the side of the oil drum and, before she understood what he was doing, he brought down a sawed-off shotgun, braced it one-handedly against his body and pulled the trigger. Out of the corner of her eye she saw splinters fly explosively from the side of the building as the heavy body of a greenish-colored snake gave one last, headless spasm a few feet away from where she stood frozen in her tracks. It was a moment before she could trust herself to speak.

“I—I think you just saved my life.” Her voice wasn’t entirely steady, but she hoped he would put the quaver in her tone down to what had just happened.

“Since that was a Mojave rattler, I think I did, too.”

As Gabe replaced the shotgun in a sling at the side of the oil drum, she saw a gleam of silver on his left wrist and recognized the bracelet he’d worn the night they’d met. With no self-consciousness at all, he ducked his head under the final trickle of water before stepping away from the patch of already-drying earth under his makeshift shower and picking up a pair of patched khakis. He put them on, raked wet hair out of his eyes and retrieved the shotgun, then walked past her.

“How did you find me?” As he spoke he kept walking, while shrugging his shoulders into his shirt.

“Through an old friend of yours, Jess Crawford. I met him once or twice at parties when I was dating Larry. I work for him now, as his social secretary.” She resisted the impulse to look away. “My situation’s changed since we last met, Gabe, but that’s not relevant. Jess needs your help. From what I gather, he and you go back a long way.”

“Fifteen years.” Gabe’s jaw tightened. “Did ol’ Jess feed you a line about the crazy times we had together with Tyler Adams and Virge Connor at the Double B Ranch, when we were sent there as juvenile delinquents to turn our lives around? Did he credit the fact that he’s now a software billionaire and a solid citizen to Del Hawkins, the ex-marine who runs the ranch and whipped us into shape?”

She stared at him, disconcerted. “Not in so many words, but yes. He told me that being sent to the Double B was the best thing that ever happened to him. He said all four of you felt that way.”

“Jess is a nice guy. His problem’s always been in believing that wanting something bad enough makes it come true.” Gabe shrugged. “If it’s a Double B band-of-brothers reunion Jess wants me to attend, tell him thanks but no thanks. And tell him to come himself the next time he needs a favor.”

He opened the SUV’s door. “Expensive vehicle, expensive-looking dress, and those strappy little sandals you’re wearing probably cost more than I used to make in a week before I quit Recoveries International. It doesn’t look to me as if your situation’s changed that much, even if you are filling in time by playing secretary for Jess. You’re still a snow princess. Better be on your way before that creamy skin starts to burn.”

She couldn’t afford to take offence at his tone, but a spark of desperate anger flared in her nonetheless.

“Maybe the changes in my life just don’t seem so significant in comparison to your situation.” She gazed steadily at him. “Why did you disappear, Gabe? Was it because you blamed yourself for Leo Roswell’s death?”

“Leo’s death was why I stopped being a hostage negotiator. I knew that if I hadn’t seen what Kanin was planning, the instincts I’d always relied on were gone.” His smile was brief. “As for why I dropped off the face of the earth, I don’t see how that’s any of your damn business, sweetheart.”

“Then I’d better stick to what is my business. I’m here because Jess once told me that if he was ever kidnapped, the only man he’d trust to negotiate his release would be you.”

The sunlight was so strong that Gabe’s eyes seemed a translucent amber, but just for a moment they deepened to black. She saw his jaw tighten as he took in what she hadn’t said.

“When and where?”

For the first time since she’d found him here in this nowhere spot Caro allowed her emotions to show. “Two days ago, just across the border in Mexico. His abductors snatched him while he was down there supervising construction of a new Crawford Solutions plant he’s having built.” She shook her head. “Oh, Gabe—Jess’s business partner Steve Dixon called in Kanin’s firm to handle negotiations for his release. I’m afraid something’s going to go wrong.”

“If Recoveries International’s been hired, even if I wanted to I wouldn’t be able to involve myself.” His tone was flat. “I wouldn’t have the authority to replace—”

“But that’s just it—I do,” she interrupted. “I told you I was Jess’s social secretary. That’s true, as far as it goes, but our relationship’s grown over the year and a half I’ve been working for him. A few weeks ago he asked me to marry him.”

He looked away. “Congratulations, but I don’t—”

“I said I needed time to think it over, but he still insisted on signing some document that gave me power of attorney over his affairs, which is why my choice of hostage negotiator will take precedence over Steve Dixon’s. I won’t lie to you, Gabe—I’ve decided I’m going to tell him I accept his proposal. But first I need your help to bring him home.”

His expression closed. “Jess deserves a negotiator who’ll give him a fighting chance to come out of this alive, not a burned-out case who could get him killed.”

“He deserves the man he asked for when he first suspected this day might come—” she retorted, “the man he has faith in. You’re that man, Gabe, whether you like it or not. Maybe you’ve been able to walk away from the rest of the world, but you can’t walk away from one of your oldest friends.”

“No?” His smile was humorless. “Just watch me, princess.”

She’d gambled and lost, Caro thought dully. But what had she expected? Gabriel Riggs had once called her a rich bitch, and the morning after they’d slept together she’d done everything she could to convince him that his assessment of her had been correct. She’d been insane to think that a plea for help from her would mean anything to him.

“You said Jess suspected this day might come.” About to turn away, he paused. “What made him think he was in danger of being kidnapped?”

“Nothing specific,” she said tonelessly. “Just the feeling once or twice that he was being followed. But when I suggested he hire a bodyguard, he told me he’d never wanted his wealth to curtail his life and he wasn’t going to start now. I guess that attitude made it easy for his kidnappers. The one who phoned to tell us they had Jess certainly seemed to think so.”

“You’re leaving something out.” His gaze sharpened. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He wanted the truth from her—the whole truth, Caro thought. He wanted more than she was prepared to give.

“The kidnapper who called said we’d better make sure nothing went wrong,” she said unevenly. “He said that not only was Jess’s life at stake, but that if they had to kill him they’d come after me and my baby daughter, Emily.”

She saw his eyes darken in shock and answered his question before he could ask it, knowing that her child’s whole world depended on convincing him.