“When did you say you were leaving?”
“I’ll let you know,” he promised, chuckling.
He didn’t, in fact, intend to go anywhere anytime soon. There was no job in California. He worked for himself as a private investigator, though no one here knew that, not even John. He’d intended to tell him, but when John called him to tell him he’d been shot, he’d decided it would be best, at least for now, to keep his occupation to himself while he looked into what the hell was going on at the Broken Arrow. He didn’t want the neighboring ranchers or the good citizens of Willow Bend to guess what he did for a living, so he’d made the trip to Colorado with the excuse that he wanted to check on his half brother before taking the fictional job in California.
Guilt pulled at him at the thought of deceiving his brother, but he knew John would understand. And over the course of the two weeks he’d been there, things had been extremely quiet. He didn’t expect that to last for long. Trouble never did. He’d learned that years ago, when he’d first worked in military intelligence, then for the CIA. He’d still be working for “the company” if it hadn’t been for Sheila.
His jaw tightened at the thought of his ex-girlfriend. Beautiful, smart, fearless, she was everything he’d wanted in a woman…or so he’d thought. In reality, she was a Cuban spy. When he became suspicious of her, she fled the U.S., but not without first warning him that he would pay for destroying her cover.
Two weeks later, a sniper took a shot at him from a bridge in Virginia. The police claimed it was just a random act of violence, but he knew better. Disillusioned, he quit, changed his name and disappeared for awhile. When he finally settled down, he chose a town in Texas that was so small that everyone literally knew everyone else. No one, he’d promised himself, who wanted to harm him or his family would ever be able to sneak into his life again without him knowing about it.
And since John was engaged to Elizabeth, that made her—and the rest of the Wyatts—family. He intended to watch over all of them and find out who the hell was trying to drive them away. He didn’t believe for a moment that it would be easy. He didn’t know the people of Willow Bend, didn’t know the dynamics of the place or which of the local citizens thought they’d been robbed of the Broken Arrow by Hilda Wyatt’s will. Who was desperate enough to attack the ranch? Who wouldn’t blink twice at blowing up the old Spanish gold mine or burning the cabin where John and Elizabeth planned to live? Who shot his brother?
He would find out, he vowed silently. He’d have to keep a low profile, though. As long as everyone thought he was a flirt and a tease, just killing time until his new job started, no one suspected his real reason for being there. He intended to keep it that way.
The minute dinner was over, Katherine helped Elizabeth and Rainey with the dishes as she waited for Buck to finish his evening work on the computer in his office. She hadn’t bothered to bring her laptop with her because of the difference in electrical outlets, so she had no choice but to sign up for online dating on the ranch computer.
Just the thought of that brought the sting of a blush to her cheeks. She knew it was crazy, but she hated to look for a man online in front of her entire family. It was like…kissing a beau in front of her father. She shouldn’t have been self-conscious—after all, she was twenty-eight years old, for heaven’s sake. She wasn’t doing anything illegal or immoral, and she certainly had nothing to be embarrassed about.
So why did she feel like a sixteen-year-old sneaking out to meet her boyfriend?
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Five-Foot-Two-Looking-For Mr.-Lonely,” Hunter suddenly said from behind her. “What are you doing skulking in the back hall? I thought you’d already be scouting out the loser hunks on the Internet.”
Startled, she whirled to find Hunter surveying her in amusement. “Do you have radar where I’m concerned or something?” she snapped. “Every time I turn around, you’re right behind me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were following me.”
“It’s those big blue eyes of yours,” he teased. “I just can’t resist you when you bat them at me.”
“When I what?” she gasped, outraged. “I don’t do anything of the kind!”
“And then there’s that come-hither smile of yours,” he continued with a broad grin. “I’m telling you, if you put a picture on the Internet that captures your eyes and smile, you’re going to be beating men off with a stick by the end of the week.”
“The only man I’m going to be beating is you,” she retorted, glaring at him. “Don’t you have something else to do?”
“You mean other than tease you?” he chuckled. “Are you kidding? What could be more fun than that?”
“Breathing,” she said promptly. “If you don’t stop pestering me—”
The door to Buck’s office opened then, and he stepped out, his sharp gaze quickly taking in the temper sparking in her eyes and Hunter’s wide grin. “Uh-oh. Looks like the fur’s about to fly. Better watch yourself, Hunter. The last time I saw that look in her eye, I thought she was going to pull out every hair in my head. And all just because I borrowed her bicycle without asking her.”
“You didn’t just borrow it—you brought it back with a flat tire,” she told him, fighting a reluctant smile. “And I didn’t lay a hand on that precious hair of yours. Though I should have,” she added, frowning at him. “You never did pay me for that tire.”
“Send me a bill,” he chuckled. “So what did Hunter do to set you off?”
“Nothing,” he said with an easy grin before she could open her mouth. “She’s just a little huffy because she thinks I’m following her. All I was doing was going to the kitchen for a snack.”
“Really?” she sniffed. “You’re hungry? We just finished dinner an hour ago.”
“I didn’t eat much,” he retorted. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
“Oh, please!”
Laughing, Buck stepped around them. “I’m out of here.”
“Buck, wait!”
“Can’t,” he said. “Rainey and I are going to watch a movie.”
He was gone before she could stop him, leaving her alone with Hunter. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kid,” he drawled. “C’mon, let’s go check out the Internet and see what kind of online dating services are out there.”
“You must be joking.”
At her dry comment, he swallowed a laugh. Damn, he liked her! She was just so easy to tease. Did she have a clue how cute she was when she looked down her nose at him that way? Maybe he should ask her out and save her the trouble of joining a dating service. They could have a lot of fun together.
Even as the appealing thought tugged at him, he stiffened. No, dammit, he wasn’t going there. After Sheila had betrayed him the way she had, he’d sworn he would never trust a woman again. And in the five years that had passed since Sheila had tried to have him killed, he hadn’t once been tempted to break that promise to himself.
That didn’t mean he’d turned into a hermit. He liked women, enjoyed their company, not to mention sex. And finding a date wasn’t a problem. He just made sure that the women he took out were just as disillusioned as he was and wanted nothing to do with a ring on their fingers. Even then, he didn’t date any woman more than twice. He didn’t intend to ever again give a woman a chance to get close enough to betray him.
“What?” he asked innocently. “You don’t trust me?”
“Not as far as I can throw you,” she retorted sweetly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a computer.”
Without a word, she turned and walked into Buck’s office, but if she thought he was so easily discouraged, she was in for a rude awakening. When she took a seat in front of the computer on Buck’s desk, he followed her and pulled a chair beside her before she even knew what he was about.
“Hunter—”
“I can help you with your profile,” he said at her warning tone. Thanks to his years in intelligence, he was damn good at sizing up a person, though he had no intention of telling her how he’d come by that kind of experience. “C’mon, Kitty-Kat, lighten up. If you want to get a good match, you want to word this thing just right. I can give you a man’s perspective.”
“I’m sure you will,” she said dryly. “Thanks, but no, thanks.”
“How are you going to describe yourself?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Let me guess,” he said, eyeing her speculatively. “You’ll probably say you’re cute, outgoing, artistic, with weight proportionate to your height.” When her blue eyes widened in surprise, he grinned mockingly. “Am I right or what?”
“So what if you are?” she tossed back. “What’s wrong with that?”
“You’re writing for a man, remember?” he pointed out. “Cute means ordinary, outgoing likes to hog the conversation.”
“That’s not true!”
“Artistic means you have one of those old houses that’s decorated with lace and fru-fru flowery stuff. And weight proportionate to height can mean only one thing. You’re fat.”
“I am not!”
“Of course you’re not. But that’s what any man who reads that description is going to think. And that’s okay if you don’t care that the only men who answer your ad are losers who still live with their mothers and wear their pants up to their armpits. Of course, if that’s what you want…”
Horrified, she cringed. “No, of course not.”