The Ranger Page 5

  “We?” he drawled.

  “We,” she insisted. “Key, remember?”

  “Fine.” He relented. “I’ll admit you’ll be useful in this instance, so I will allow you to accompany me.”

  She rolled her eyes and picked up the check.

  Control freak. “Bet that high-handed attitude doesn’t get you laid much,” Rhiannon said, slid ing out of the booth.

  A startled chuckle broke up in his throat. “I don’t need the attitude to get laid,” he said, fall ing into step behind her.

  She could feel his gaze on her ass and couldn’t repress the smile sliding over her lips. “Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed with a lamentable sigh. “Probably best if you keep your mouth shut.”

  He guffawed. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

  Rhiannon presented her check to the cashier.

  “Enjoyed it, Willie,” she called back toward the kitchen.

  Wilhelmina Malone lumbered into view, her dark face wreathed in her usual smile. “Glad to hear it, child. You get a piece of pie?”

  “Better not,” Rhiannon said, smacking her hip.

  “It’ll end up right here.” Or on her sizable ass, she thought.

  While she never really dieted—she liked food too much for that—she nevertheless tried not to be a glutton. She could easily stand to lose ten to fifteen pounds, but the extra weight didn’t bother her enough to motivate her to try. She actually liked being a little curvy. Women were supposed to be, dammit, despite what the current issue of Vogue said.

  “Nonsense,” Willie told her. “Help yourself and get a slice for your friend there, too.” She looked Will up and down. “Looks like he could use a good piece of pie.”

  Between her telling him how to get a piece of ass and Willie telling him he needed a piece of pie, she was beginning to wonder if Will was starting to feel a bit abused.

  “Thanks,” she said, then shot Will a look over her shoulder as she made her way to the pie case. “Chocolate, lemon or pecan?” she asked.

  “What are you having?”

  “Chocolate.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll have.”

  Rhiannon peered into the case and tsked regretfully. “There’s only one piece of chocolate left.”

  His lips twisted wryly. “Figures.”

  “You can have it,” she told him. “I’d rather have the lemon.” She put the slices of pie into a carton and snagged a couple of plastic forks from the cup on the counter.

  He sighed. “I’ll take the lemon. I’m not going to steal your pie.”

  He held open the front door for her and she caught a whiff of some woodsy cologne. Nice, Rhiannon thought. The fragrance suited him.

  “You can’t steal it. It’s a gift.” She handed the carton to him.

  He popped the lid and carved off a piece. “Being nice to me isn’t going to do any good. You’re still not coming with me.”

  Rhiannon took a bite of her own, savoring the meringue. “I wonder how many times you’re going to have to say it before you start believing it?”

  He stared at her mouth, seemingly distracted, then reached out and caught a piece of the fluffy dessert on her bottom lip against his thumb. Her gaze tangled with his and she carefully licked it off.

  “You’ve got it backward,” he said, his voice a bit strangled. “It’s not how many times am I going to have to say it before I start believing it. It’s how many times am I going to have to say it before you do.”

  Still rattled from the feel of his thumb against her tongue and how much she’d like to lick other parts of his body, Rhiannon grinned up at him. “In that case, you should save your breath.”

  He swore again.

  5

  THOUGH STILL OF ANTEBELLUM architecture, Theodore Watson’s house was nothing like the grand Tara-like mansion his son called home. Built in the early 1820’s, this was a simple white clapboard house. Four rooms downstairs, each boasting a single fireplace and divided by the customary wide hall, and three rooms upstairs.

  Theo was a master gardener according to Rhiannon. The grounds were shaded with huge live oaks and magnolias, lots of creeping ivy and ornamental grasses. Rhododendrons and roses bloomed, adding a splash of color, and an entire area had been devoted to nothing but bird feeders, houses and baths.

  The scent of dusty books, Old Spice and cherry pipe tobacco hung in the air and, while Will had never met Mr. Watson, something about the way the older gentleman cared for his surroundings—and the creatures that orbited through it—put him in mind of his grandfather. John Forrester had been well-read and had also had a soft spot for his feathered friends.

  Will wandered over to the fireplace and checked out the pictures on the mantel. You could tell a lot about a person by the images they chose to put on display. A faded wedding photo was placed prominently in the middle.

  Rhiannon drifted to his side and nodded at the picture. She stood so close that he could smell her. Something light and orange. “That’s Theo and Sarah,” she said, smiling. “He was a handsome devil, wasn’t he?”

  Examining the happy couple, Will supposed he was. He wasn’t accustomed to making judgments on manly looks. Nevertheless, the bride wore a radiant smile and there was no denying the pride, adoration and love in Theo’s youthful expression. Staring at the image—the pure emotion in their eyes—made something strangely like envy curl in his chest. Ridiculous, Will thought, batting the feeling away like a pesky fly.

  In truth, Will had always been so focused on his career he’d never truly considered having a wife and family—the whole dinner-at-five, church-on-Sundays scenario. Had he ever been in love before? Yes, once, in college and it had ended badly. She’d wanted a ring and he’d wanted to wait. He hadn’t been ready to say I do, had been so engrossed in his career even then that he’d recognized on some level that it wouldn’t have worked.

  He’d balked and she’d bailed.

  Since then he hadn’t been with a woman who hadn’t known going in that he was not interested in anything more than a little mutually satisfying recreational sex. He knew plenty of other soldiers who’d managed to make the marriage thing work, but had always known himself well enough to realize that, were he to have married, either the career or the marriage would have suffered, and that was unacceptable.

  He’d chosen the career. A smear of blood, a tiny hand…

  He swallowed hard and with difficulty, beat the images back. They were coming at him more frequently lately, Will realized with some dismay. He’d actually thought he was getting better at dealing with it, but…evidently not. He cleared his throat, aware that he’d been quiet entirely too long. He could feel Rhiannon’s gaze on his face, examining him with those curiously perceptive eyes.

  “And Sarah?” he asked. He expected he knew the answer to this question.

  She inclined her head. “She died when Tad was eight. Aneurism.” Her gaze lingered on the picture.

  “He never remarried. Said so long as his heart beat it would love her and it wouldn’t be fair to another woman to only give her what was left.” She smiled.

  “And believe me, lots of women tried. There’s no telling how many book clubs were formed at the Begonia Public Library with the express purpose of putting its members in closer proximity to Theo.”

  That’s right, Will thought. Watson had been the local librarian, as well, and he wondered how he’d found the time, particularly when he was also at the helm of the family business. Evidently he had good help in place—otherwise there was no way in hell the older man could get it all done. Especially with a miserable excuse of a son like Tad, who didn’t appreciate the hard work, blood, sweat and tears that had gone into his heritage. Sheesh.

  Will liked that the plantation had stayed true to its roots and farmed almost all of the land. The fields were presently full of cotton, blanketing the earth in white.

  Though it was his understanding that Tad was next in line to assume the CEO position, he could see where Watson wouldn�
�t want to relinquish the reins to a greedy son who, apart from the house, had no interest in preserving his family’s legacy and wasn’t interested in helping worthy causes.

  According to Rhiannon, Watson funded a local no-kill shelter, and offered numerous scholarships to aid local high school students who needed a little help to attend college. The parks and library had benefited from his benevolence, as well. Will grimaced. No doubt Tad would put an end to that if he ever got the opportunity.

  His gaze skimmed along, looking at other pictures, then stopped short when he recognized a familiar face. Younger, of course, and sporting braces, but…

  “That’s you,” he said, smiling. She’d been awkward, a bit shy looking, but the promise of beauty was there, even then.

  “No cracks about the metal mouth,” she warned him primly. “The end justified the means.”

  “You’ve known Theo a long time,” he remarked. When she’d said he’d been a better father to her than her own, he’d just assumed she’d meant as an adult. He hadn’t realized she’d known him since she was a child. Of course, that would explain the bond. He could tell that she genuinely loved the older gentleman.

  “I have,” she confirmed with a nod. “I was a bit of a freak growing up and spent a lot of time at the library. Theo and I shared a common quirk, which made me feel less like an outcast, and—” she sighed “—the rest is history.”

  She was being purposely vague, which naturally cued his curiosity. “A common quirk?”

  “It’s not important,” she said, dismissing the question as though it wouldn’t interest him. “The answering machine is in the kitchen. I’m going to check the messages, see if there’s anything significant on there.”

  Now, that was odd, Will thought. The same woman who’d told him his attitude wouldn’t get him laid often didn’t want to share a “quirk”? Was she hiding some sort of physical flaw? A third breast? A sixth toe? His brooding gaze slid over her, making his pulse trip with desire. Wouldn’t matter, Will decided. She’d still be the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

  Damn.

  Had he had any idea that he was going to be presented with this sort of temptation, Will would have made a little time for sex before starting his new job. How long had it been? he wondered. Two, three months? Too damned long, obviously; otherwise he was certain he wouldn’t be having this reaction to Rhiannon. He wouldn’t be mentally stripping her naked and imagining her toned legs wrapped around his waist, her sexy mouth feed ing at his. The mere scent of her wouldn’t be driving him crazy and the riddle of her supposed quirk wouldn’t spark his intense curiosity.

  It was a pointless distraction, Will told himself, and futile, as well. He didn’t have any business puzzling over her reticence to share her quirk, much less allowing himself to feel the desire currently sliding through his veins.

  Theodore Watson had flown the coop, and it was his job to track him down.

  The fact that he had to remind himself of this only irritated him further. Will ordinarily had the focus of a cobra and the tenacity of a bulldog.

  It was her, he decided. She, with her hot-pink toes and delectable ass, was interfering with his ability to think.

  Will abruptly decided that he needed to check in with the Triumvirate—damn Juan-Carlos for stick ing that term in his brain—and see what proper protocol was for his present situation. He was sup posed to make daily reports and, while he could simply forget to mention that Rhiannon Palmer was intent on following him to Philadelphia, it was a lie of omission he’d rather not have come back and bite him on the ass.

  He unclipped the cell from his waist and hit number one on his speed-dial list. Juan-Carlos answered, of course, and he asked for Payne. He seemed the least likely to rag his ass over his gorgeous, irritating little problem.

  “How’s it going, Will?” Payne asked by way of greeting.

  “Slowly,” he admitted. He brought him up to speed. “I’m at Theo’s house now, poking around, but other than the fact that he’s taken a small suit case and copies of his great-great-grandfather’s journals, I’m not having any luck. The family actually originated in Philadelphia and, considering the cash he took with him and the message he left Rhiannon Palmer, I’m assuming that he’s headed there, or somewhere in between.”

  “You’ve met Ms. Palmer, then?” Not a trace of laughter betrayed his voice, but Will heard it all the same.

  Will ducked into Theo’s bedroom. “A little warning would have been nice, Payne,” he hissed, annoyed that his new boss seemed to have purposely withheld some key information. Will liked having all the facts, dammit. How was he sup posed to make good decisions without them? “I can’t shake her,” he admitted, swallowing the gall.

  “She’s been following me all over town and is hell-bent on either tagging along with me or tailing me all the way to Philly.”

  Payne coughed to cover a poorly disguised chuckle. “I was afraid she might become an issue.”

  “Issue, hell,” he said. “She’s a pain in the ass. How am I going to get rid of her? What’s the protocol?”

  “Are you sure you need to get rid of her? She knows your target and is familiar with this so-called treasure he’s looking for.”

  Will leaned around the door frame to make sure she wasn’t listening, then drew back. This was unexpected and he found himself strangely—stupidly—thrilled. “You think I ought to let her come with me?”

  “I don’t see what it could hurt. If she follows you, then she’s just going to be a distraction. You take her with you and you can at least control the situation.” He paused. “I’ve been in a similar position, Will.” He laughed softly, seemingly remembering. “Take it from me, you’re better off allow ing her to come with you than her mucking along in your wake, screwing with your ability to focus.”

  Will barely repressed a snort. Either way she was going to screw with his focus. Even now, though she wasn’t anywhere near him, he was still keenly aware of the fact that she was in the house, that she was close. He could feel her, as though her very heartbeat had the ability to ping him like sonar.

  Theo and I share a common quirk.

  That little mystery was going to drive him bat-shit crazy.

  He swore, causing Payne to laugh.

  “That bad, is she?”

  “She’s a beautiful nightmare,” Will said honestly.

  “And it would have been easier if she made a dog point?”

  “Definitely.” He couldn’t impart enough dread into that one word. “I see.”

  Good, then that made one of them.

  “Regardless, my advice doesn’t change. You’re still better off taking her with you than allowing her to follow you. She could be useful.”

  Will exhaled mightily, stared at an Audubon print on the wall. “You’re right, of course.”

  “Keep us posted.”

  “Will do,” he said, then disconnected.

  Damn. He was so screwed.

  CHUCKLING UNDER HIS BREATH, Payne set the cordless phone back into the base and looked at the two expectant faces on the men whose attention had previously been on another Braves game.

  “Let me guess,” Flanagan said. “It’s a woman.”

  “Rhiannon Palmer,” Guy guessed correctly. “I knew she was going to be trouble.”

  “She’s been tailing him,” Payne told them. “Keeps insisting that she can help with the investigation.”

  “Can she?” Jamie asked.

  “Possibly,” Payne conceded. “I just think it’s a little ironic, don’t you?”

  Guy lobbed a paper napkin ball at the trash can and gave a little boo-yah when it hit the mark. “What do you mean?”

  “Seems there’s an interfering woman involved in every case we’ve taken lately.”

  “True,” Jamie admitted.

  Guy released a tragic sigh. “And yet we keep marrying them.”

  SITTING IN THE PASSENGER SEAT of Will’s Rubicon, Rhiannon inhaled the new-car scent and studied the atlas sh
e had open on her lap. Since he’d finally come to his senses and gruffly announced that she could come with him—no idea what brought that on, but she didn’t care because she’d won—she’d decided not to make taking her little hybrid a sticking point. She was just grateful to be doing something, to be contributing to the cause.

  They’d stopped at a convenience store to stock a cooler—sodas and orange juice—and to snag a few snacks for the road. Will was a butterscotch Life Savers fan, and though there was absolutely no reason to find this little fact endearing, she did. She rolled her eyes and tried to pretend that she wasn’t keenly aware of him, that she wasn’t marveling over the strength in his hands or the competent way he handled the wheel. Both elicited a shiver.

  Needing a distraction, Rhiannon pulled out her cell and dialed Theo’s number again.

  Will slid her a glance. “Who are you calling?”

  “Theo,” she said. Predictably, it connected to voice mail. She decided to leave another message. “Theo, you’d better call me the instant you get this. Please,” she added. “I’m worried about you.”

  He quirked a brow. “Do you have caller ID?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Did he leave the message on your machine from home or from his cell?”

  “His cell, I think.”

  He merely nodded, snagged his own phone and placed a call. “What’s his number?”

  She rattled it off and he shared it with the people on the other end of the line. “Right,” he said. “Let me know if you get any hits.”

  Ah, Rhiannon realized. He was tracking Theo’s cell, trying to see which tower his last call was routed through. She nodded, impressed. “You’re pretty good at this for someone who just started.”

  She watched his eyes crinkle at the corners with an almost smile. “Thank you.”

  “So were you in the security business before you started with the Ranger guys?”

  “I guess you could say that,” he replied, but didn’t elaborate and, though he didn’t so much as bat an eyelash, she felt a tenseness settle around him.