The Ranger Read online

  She chuckled, determined to draw him out.

  “That was a very vague answer.”

  He tapped his thumb against the steering wheel.

  “You’d know all about those.”

  She knew exactly what he was talking about, so didn’t bother being coy. He’d been quite curious about her “shared-quirks” comment regarding her and Theo. While Rhiannon was a relatively vocal proponent of EI, she didn’t exactly go around advertising her personal experiences with it.

  Men, in particular, seemed unnerved by her special insight into their emotions, and intuition told her he’d be more spooked than the average guy.

  Probably because he wasn’t just bringing along a little rolling case of baggage—he had a massive trunkful of it. Even now she could feel the weight of it pressing in on her, and she marveled at his ability to function at all.

  Furthermore, she recognized this particular weight—it had all the hallmarks of death. The regret, the grief, the oppression. But who had he lost? Rhiannon wondered. And better still, why did he blame himself?

  “Truth uncomfortable for you?” he asked.

  “Not at all,” she said, shooting him a smile. “I let it drop, didn’t I?”

  “Surprisingly, yes. Only makes me more curious, though.”

  She grinned and pushed a lock of hair away from her face. “I know that feeling, as well.”

  “I was in the military,” he said. “Army. A Ranger.”

  So she’d been right. He was military. And a Ranger? Those guys were usually in service for life. Too much time spent training to simply change their mind. Something must have happened, Rhiannon decided, studying him from the corner of her eye.

  And that something was directly related to his pain.

  “The hair was sort of a tip-off,” she said. “Well, that and the fact that you’re bossy.”

  He chuckled. “I’m used to giving orders.”

  “I’m not one of your soldiers.”

  His gaze lingered over her legs, drifted along her hip, slid over her breasts and ultimately settled on her mouth. A bark of ironic laughter rumbled from his throat. “Believe me, I am well aware of that.”

  Holy hell, Rhiannon thought as the tops of her thighs caught fire. Her nipples tingled and she felt short of breath, as if the heat between them was sucking all the oxygen out of the car. She’d been feeling that off him, too—the desire—but clearly he’d been trying to control it, as well. And when that control slipped…

  Damn.

  “S-so you’re happy with the career change?”

  “I will be so long as you don’t get me fired,” he muttered.

  “I will not get you fired,” she promised him. “I’m here to help you.”

  He merged onto the interstate, headed north and heaved a fatalistic sigh. “So you’ve said.”

  “Haven’t I been helpful so far? Didn’t I let you in Theo’s house and tell you everything that I know?”

  “You have.”

  She settled more firmly against the seat. “You’ll see,” she said primly. “We’re going to make an excellent team.”

  “Rah, rah,” he cheered with bored enthusiasm. Smart-ass, she thought, reluctantly impressed with his humor. Probably because it was similar to her own.

  “We should probably go through Chattanooga,” Rhiannon told him. “Theo’s great-grandmother was from Soddy-Daisy.”

  “Soddy-Daisy? You just made that up, didn’t you?”

  “Of course not.” She showed him the map. “It’s right here. See?”

  A pained expression settled over his gorgeous face. “Why do I get the feeling we’re going to have to dismember every limb on Theo’s family tree in order to find him?”

  “Probably because we are.”

  He harrumphed. “What’s the significance of the Bible verse?”

  “Ah,” she said. “Mortimer Watson was a very devout man and his diaries are littered with his spiritual reflections and various Bible verses. The significance of Matthew 6:21 is that its only appearance is two weeks before the Union troops marched through Begonia on their way to Atlanta.”

  Will inclined his head. “I see.”

  “Theo has known that the verse was a significant clue and we’ve scoured records and diaries trying to find any reference to the word heart.”

  “And you didn’t find anything?”

  “No…but evidently Theo has.”

  A thought struck. “And wherever he’s gone, he’s taken his metal detector with him. It usually sits by the back door, and it wasn’t there when I went to check the messages on his machine.”

  “So he’s digging, then?”

  “That’s my guess. Lord knows he’s practically taken the house apart and dug from one end of the Watson Plantation to the other.” She chuckled. “Tad nearly had a fit when Theo tore up the hearth.”

  Will’s incredulous gaze found hers. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “I wish.” She closed the atlas and tucked it into the side pocket of her door. “It was a relatively common hiding place, you know? People would bury their valuables beneath the hearth, mortar back over it and then their goods were safe in the event of fire.” She smiled, remembering. “Theo had thought heart and hearth were close enough in spelling, so he took apart every fireplace on the lower floors.”

  “He’s determined, isn’t he?”

  “He’s always been convinced it was real. He’s been actively searching for more than sixty years.”

  “That’s dedication.”

  She smiled fondly, picturing her friend’s lined, dear face. “That’s Theo.”

  “Wonder why he didn’t tell you where he was going?”

  She’d wondered that, as well, and could only assume that he’d left in such a hurry he hadn’t wanted to wait until she’d finished her class for the day. As she’d just said, he’d been looking for this for sixty years. Waiting another moment would have been impossible for him.

  She shared as much. “I don’t think there was any real purpose behind not telling me. I think he just got excited and went directly into treasure-hunter mode.” She gazed out the window, stared at the passing scenery. “And if it weren’t for the diabetes, I wouldn’t be concerned at all. I know that he’s avoiding Tad and I’m a mere casualty of that. But I just can’t shake the feeling that something terrible could happen to him and no one would be there to help him, you know?”

  Will was silent for a moment. “We’ll find him,” he said reassuringly.

  We, she thought, glad that he was finally coming around. Her heart warmed.

  “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

  “So where do we start?” Will asked. “What are we looking for in Soddy-Daisy?”

  “Relatives, old family home places and graves,” she said.

  “That covers a lot of ground,” Will remarked, staring straight ahead.

  “But it makes sense, given the cash he took with him. He’s looking for family treasure. It only makes sense that he’d go where his people were from.” Or at least it did to her.

  He nodded and shot her a resigned smile. “So how much farther to Soddy-Daisy?”

  6

  THIS WAS PRECISELY WHY he didn’t want her tagging along with him, Will thought as he finally settled into his rented bed for the night. Rhiannon was in the room next to him, and though he knew she was probably still fully clothed and not doing anything particularly sexy, he nevertheless knew she was there.

  So he pictured her naked.

  As if on cue, her shower started.

  Bloody hell.

  Sleek, wet skin, back arched into the spray, rivulets of water cascading over the heavy globes of her breasts, clinging to rosy nipples. Dark hair tangled down her back, darker hair between her thighs…

  He shifted as he went uncomfortably hard, then determinedly began to translate the TV Guide into Spanish to try to occupy his mind. When Spanish didn’t work, he moved to Russian. He’d just finished the eleven-o’clock listings whe
n her shower finally—blessedly—went off.

  But she was still naked, still wet, and he knew it.

  His dick jerked hard against his zipper and he speared his hands through his hair and gave a sharp tug.

  It was at that precise moment that he heard a tentative knock on their adjoining door.

  Shit.

  He scrambled up and tried to think of a convincing way to cover up his hard-on—his dick was practically peeping out the top of his jeans. Then, in a moment of inspiration, he quickly untucked his shirt and hoped that it wouldn’t betray him.

  He opened the door, and the scent of warm oranges abruptly washed over him. “Yes?” he asked in a voice that wasn’t altogether steady.

  She was partially hidden behind the door, her hand securing the towel behind her back.

  Unfortunately—or fortuitously, however one decided to look at it—her bare, heart-shaped rear end was reflected in the room’s slightly foggy mirror, giving him an unobstructed view of the most beautiful ass he’d ever seen. He instantly imagined his hands on her rump as he pushed into her from behind, the smooth indentation of her spine.

  “I forgot to pack toothpaste,” she said, wincing. “Do you mind if I borrow yours?”

  Water clung to her eyelashes and her nose was shiny. It was small, he realized now. Quite possibly the most petite nose he’d ever seen. How had he missed that? And why in God’s name did he find that so endearing?

  “Er…sure,” he said, trying to untangle his thoughts. He darted to his bathroom and pulled a travel tube from his case. “Here you go,” he said, handing it over.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’d wait a few minutes before I showered if I were you. The hot water’s a little iffy.”

  He nodded. “Noted.”

  “I’ll give this right back, if you want to leave the door open.”

  For reasons he didn’t understand, she seemed reluctant to leave. “Sure,” he said, for lack of anything better.

  She grinned again, then partially closed her door. Seconds later he heard the telltale sounds of the rest of her evening routine.

  Will blew out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and sagged against the wall, the memory of her ass still clinging determinedly in his mind. He massaged his temples, valiantly holding on to what remained of his sanity.

  Damn. This was so not good.

  He could not act on this attraction. It would be the pinnacle of stupidity, the absolute height of idiocy. New job, first assignment. He couldn’t afford to fuck it up.

  Too important. No place else to go. He’d be rudderless, without a purpose. The thought terrified him.

  While not strictly a part of this investigation, she was a crucial key to whether or not he was able to see it through.

  Distance, Will told himself. He had to be with her when they were in the car—he was trapped. But his evenings had to be his own. And the next time they booked a hotel room, he’d make sure they were on a different damned floors, not in adjoining rooms. He couldn’t keep torturing himself by listening to her bathe, wishing he could join her. Imagining filling his hands with her breasts, filling the rest of her with himself.

  “Here ya go,” she said, handing the tube of toothpaste back. “Hey, I’m not exactly tired. Wanna watch a movie on pay-per-view later? After you have your shower maybe?”

  “Sure,” he said, wondering if he could cut his tongue out with a blunt object. Hadn’t he just resolved to stay away from her? Hadn’t he just determined that she was too much temptation? That he’d go through hell trying to resist her if he didn’t stay away from her?

  Yes, he had.

  And it hadn’t made one whit of difference.

  She smiled at him, her unusual eyes lighting up. “Great. I’ll pop over later, then.”

  Rather than lie on the bed and brood about his own stupidity, Will labeled the small thrill of anticipation dread and climbed into the shower. It was a movie, he told himself. Harmless enough, right? They’d watch the film—he’d purposely choose something he knew she’d hate, like Blood ’N Guts IV—then he could send her on her way. She’d go back to her bed. He would stay in his. He would keep his hands to himself and everything would be fine.

  Ten minutes later Rhiannon came strolling into his room with two of the pillows from her bed, a couple of soft drinks she’d snagged from the vending machine, two bags of chips and two packets of M&M’s. She quickly made her nest on his side of the bed, then handed him his portion of the snacks.

  “I’d rather have popcorn and chocolate, but the chips will do in a pinch,” she said, as though they did this all the time. She sighed happily and tossed him the remote. “What’s that cologne you’re wearing?” she asked, sniffing the air appreciatively.

  “Bulgari,” he said, startled by the abrupt subject change.

  “It’s woodsy,” she said. “With a hint of pepper. Nice.”

  He hadn’t given it much thought beyond the fact that he liked it. “Thanks.” He settled in next to her, careful to keep a pillow between them. She wore a pair of striped boxer shorts and a little tank top. No bra.

  His mouth watered.

  She’d pulled her hair up into a giant knot on her head and looked completely relaxed and at ease. Clearly she was not as uncomfortably aware of him as he was of her, Will thought, annoyed once again.

  Was she attracted to him? Yes, gratifyingly, he knew she was. He’d seen her eyes darken with interest, had watched her gaze linger over his mouth. She was equally intrigued…but obviously had better control.

  It infuriated him.

  He was always the one in control.

  Because he was incapable of thinking rationally, he removed the pillow and slid an inch or so in her direction, purposely tilting the mattress until she leaned toward him, as well.

  Her breath gave a little hitch and he smiled, marginally mollified.

  “So,” he said, aiming the remote at the television, “what do you want to watch?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m not picky.” He selected Saw III and waited for her reaction.

  Because she was the most unpredictable creature he’d ever met, her eyes lit up. “Ooh, a horror movie. Blood and guts. My favorite.” She popped a chip into her mouth.

  He laughed and shook his head. “You are one odd girl, you know that?”

  “I’m unique,” she corrected. “Odd makes me sound like a freak. Unique means I’m charming.”

  “Can’t you be a charming freak?”

  She shushed him. “The movie’s starting.”

  He laughed, surprised. “It’s the previews.”

  “I know. I like them.”

  “We’re not going to talk at all?”

  She heaved a put-upon sigh. “No, because we’re watching a movie,” she said with exaggerated patience, as though she were explaining this to a half-wit.

  “Then why didn’t you just watch it alone? What’s the point of watching it together?”

  She looked over at him and smiled. “So that we can share the experience, then talk about it when it’s over. That work for you?”

  He chewed the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “Yes, it will.”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  Only it didn’t work, because thirty minutes into the movie she was sound asleep, curled up on her side, her delightfully distracting rump pressing into his hip.

  Will groaned.

  Her breath came in even little puffs and a single strand of hair had fallen down and curled over her smooth cheek. He was suddenly hit with the almost overwhelming urge to tuck it behind her ear, but was afraid that if he touched her, he wouldn’t be able to stop. She was quite honestly the most compelling person he’d ever been around in his life. Sexy and open, outrageous, charming and, yes, odd.

  Rhiannon Palmer was different.

  He couldn’t exactly put his finger on what made her so special, but he knew it all the same.

  She was an unknown quantity. Dangerous.


  And if he didn’t keep his distance, he was doomed.

  With a reluctant sigh, Will carefully rolled away from her, snagged one of the pillows and let himself into her room. The scent of oranges still hung in the air and her lacy bra dangled from the doorknob. He shook his head, settled into her bed and then looked heavenward.

  “I’d better get points for this,” he muttered. “Because this is not funny.”

  “SORRY ABOUT RUNNING YOU out of your bed last night,” Rhiannon said as she sprinkled golden raisins over her oatmeal the next morning. “I must have been more tired than I realized.”

  She had to have been; otherwise she would never have fallen asleep like that, particularly when she’d been so miserably aware of him. Honestly, she’d taken one whiff of that cologne, aftershave or shower gel—who knew which one?—and had become strangely intoxicated with the scent. It had made her want to slowly stalk him to the bed, then lick him all over. Between the scent and his own personal magnetism she’d been a basket case within seconds of walking into the room.

  Then he’d gone and moved that pillow, forcing her slightly against him, and her arm had practically caught fire. He was quite frankly the sexiest man she’d ever been around in her life, and the need hammering through her blood with every beat of her heart was simply relentless.

  She wanted him.

  With an intensity that walked the fine edge of dangerous and debilitating.

  Ordinarily when Rhiannon wanted something—or in this case someone—she didn’t hesitate. Life was too short for regrets, and happiness too often was fleeting. While she wouldn’t call herself a total hedonist, she nevertheless wasn’t accustomed to denying herself.

  But for whatever reason—self-preservation, maybe?—she was hesitant to act on this particular attraction.

  There was an edge here, an intensity she wasn’t altogether certain of, and that peculiar sensation coupled with her unusual instantaneous fond ness for him made her slightly…leery. Factor in the haunt ing sadness emanating from him and she was certain she could become entirely too involved, or at the very least, involved on an unfamiliar level she had no desire to tread.