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  Rhiannon released a pent-up breath and stood.

  “Okay,” she said. “Time to change the status quo.”

  And she was going to need to stop by the hard ware store on her way out of town.

  “RHIANNON PALMER just came into the office, asking about Will,” McCann informed Payne and Flanagan with a huge smile on his face.

  “What did you tell her?” Payne asked, his antennae twitching. Will had been a dozen kinds of miserable since his return and had owned up to the relationship with Rhiannon. That took courage, character and a sense of right and wrong that wasn’t always a part of every man’s makeup. And Payne could hardly criticize Will for it when each and every one of them was guilty of the exact same offense.

  “I pointed her in the direction of his apartment, of course,” McCann said. “She lives close enough that he can commute. If she’d been any farther out of Atlanta, though, I might not have been so helpful. We can’t keep losing our help.”

  Jamie laughed. “What’s she look like?”

  “Not half as beautiful as my wife,” McCann said dutifully. “But she’s gorgeous. Pretty eyes. Violet-blue.”

  “You going to write a poem about her?” Jamie teased.

  “Go to hell,” McCann said, chuckling.

  “I hope this ends well,” Payne said.

  “She’s here, isn’t she?” Jamie pointed out.

  “She is,” McCann said. He frowned. “And she had a length of rope sticking out of her purse.”

  MAYBE HE’D GET A DOG, Will thought as he sat in his silent apartment. The television was on, tuned to a baseball game, but he hadn’t so much as looked at the score. He needed a companion of some sort. Granted, the Triumvirate had realized he’d sunk into a terrible funk and had been trying to jar him out of it—and he genuinely appreciated it—but at the end of the day, both McCann and Payne went home to their wives, and Jamie went to his apartment to talk on the phone half the night with his.

  Though Will had had work over the past couple of weeks, it had been nothing that had taken him out of Atlanta and nothing that had required he use more than half his brain.

  Which was good, because the other half was always consumed with Rhiannon.

  Even thinking her name made an ache build up his chest. Maybe she had it right about the Boss, he thought, chuckling at her nickname for love. Maybe love did make people stupid and reckless and weak. Maybe she’d been onto something with her status quo.

  And maybe this was all bullshit and he was just miserable, Will thought, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  But it had to get better. He couldn’t possibly feel like this forever. As if he’d left a part of himself in Virginia and it had migrated south to Begonia, Georgia.

  A brisk knock sounded at his door, which was odd because McCann and Flanagan typically just walked in. Must be Payne, Will thought, pushing up from his recliner and making his way to the door. He pulled it open and drew up short.

  Rhiannon.

  He blinked, wondering if his pathetic imagination was playing tricks on him.

  “Hi, Will,” she said, smiling tentatively. “Are you busy?”

  He cleared his throat and marveled at the joy just looking at her made him feel. He felt a smile drift over his lips and hoped he didn’t look like a fool.

  But he was her fool.

  “No,” he said, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

  She walked by him, bringing the scent of oranges with her, and his mouth instantly watered. She wore a red sleeveless top and another one of those little flippy skirts that had made it so easy to take her wherever he’d wanted. If she didn’t have on any panties, he was going to have a stroke.

  She settled on the side of his couch and waited for him to resume his spot in his recliner before she finally spoke.

  “How have you been?”

  “You read me the minute I opened the door,” he said. “I’m sure you know.”

  “Depressed, lonely, miserable?” she asked, wincing.

  He chuckled darkly. “That about sums it up.”

  “I can help you with that,” she said, and there was a hint of uncertainty behind the bravado, which alerted him to how much this was costing her.

  But it had to be her move. And he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t enjoying watching her make it.

  He quirked a brow. “You can?”

  She lifted her chin. “Definitely. And I would be more than willing to distract you, as well. It’s just part of the services I offer.”

  His lips twitched. “What about the status quo?” he asked, letting her know that this wasn’t going to be on some trial basis. She had to give him all or nothing. Anything less would result in him being in a padded room devoid of sharp objects.

  She shrugged as though it didn’t matter. “Time to change it, don’t you think?”

  “I was ready to change it before we left Virginia.”

  She smiled sadly. “I was afraid, Will. But I’m trying to be brave now. Is that going to count for anything?”

  “You off your game?” he asked. “Surely you know the answer to that already.”

  She smiled and ducked her head. “I have an idea.”

  “Then why are you still sitting over there?”

  She launched herself at him. The breath whooshed out of his lungs and into her mouth and her fingers were suddenly in his hair, kneading his scalp, then lovingly—reverently—tracing the lines of his face.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” she said, straddling him.

  Will slid his palms over her bare ass and smiled against her lips. “No panties.”

  “No point in wearing them around you.” She kissed him again, pressing her sweet breasts against his chest, and it took all the strength he possessed to push her back. He had to do something first.

  “I’ve got something for you,” he said, reaching into his pocket. He withdrew the ring and held it up for her inspection.

  Her eyes rounded and she gasped. “Will.” She looked closer. “That looks awfully familiar. Where have I—” Another sharp inhalation. “The Watson treasure? But how did you— Theo,” she said meaningfully.

  “He gave it to me for you,” he said. “Because he wasn’t the only person who found his treasure on that trip. I did, too. I’m in love with you, Rhiannon.

  And I don’t care if it scares the hell out of you.” He chuckled softly. “Welcome to my world.”

  “Are you going to put it on my hand?” she asked.

  His chest felt as if it would explode with pride. “Happily.”

  She admired the stone on her finger. “I’ve got something for your hand, too,” she said, and there was a hint of something wicked in her smile. She reached into her purse and pulled out a length of rope, then wagged it at him significantly.

  He laughed, astonished, and offered his wrist.

  “Bind me,” he said. Because he was always going to be her love slave.

  She wrapped the rope around his wrist, then around her own and held it up meaningfully.

  “We’re bound.”

  “Ah.” Will sighed as he freed himself from his jeans and pushed into her. Home, he thought. “I like this better.” He nuzzled her neck. “It’s got endless possibilities.”

  She laughed. “I didn’t know you were psychic.”

  “I knew you’d be back, didn’t I?”

  “That confident, were you?”

  “No,” he corrected. “Just hopeful….”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5624-2

  THE RANGER

  Copyright © 2010 by Rhonda Nelson.

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