The Rancher And The City Girl

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am.” Jericho hoped. “And since your brother is hanging with his friends, he might not miss you right away. And it sounds like your parents won’t worry if you miss one phone call.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“How will you know when it’s safe to return home?”

“I don’t know. Agent Delgado and I had been keeping in touch by email. Now I’m not sure if I can trust him anymore. Even if he didn’t sell me out, someone in his office did. And I’m not convinced his accident really was an accident.”

“Then we’ll have to play it by ear. Right now all you can do is wait here.”

“Wait here,” she repeated, sounding as though it was just this side of torture. Maybe to her it was. But then, having her around wasn’t a day at the beach for him either.

* * *

Camille lay in bed, listening to the sounds of the house. Jericho was moving around in his room. He was pretty quiet, but she was a light sleeper. The thought of getting out of bed flitted through her mind, but she swatted it aside. She didn’t want to disturb his morning routine. Besides, lying in bed and awakening gradually was a welcome change from her usual routine of jumping up at the crack of dawn, showering so quickly she barely got wet, then hopping into a suit and heels before racing out the door, travel mug in hand. Now that she was at Jericho’s ranch, it wasn’t as if she had anything pressing to do.