now that he understood the danger she was in, would trying to help her make things worse?
He pulled back to rest his forehead against hers, held her there for a long moment as he breathed her in, calmed himself down. There would be a solution to this. He would find one. Because anything else was unacceptable.
A few minutes later, he was on the phone with George, who delivered news Tucker wasn’t prepared to hear. He found a wall to lean against. “Wait. Bookies?”
“Major bookies,” George said. “These guys are affiliated with the Russian mob, Tucker. I’m sorry, but the trail is there.”
“You’re sure it leads to Christian?”
“No. I’m not,” George said in a slow, cautious voice. “But so far, that’s where things are headed.”
“George, look, I appreciate everything you’ve done, but you need to stop now. Just back off. This is far bigger than I ever expected, and I won’t have you put yourself in this kind of danger.”
“You need to trust me on this, my friend. I’m not willing to get involved in anything that could get me killed. Or you, or Irene. But I’ve got a lifetime of sources here, and a lot of favors I’ve called in. I’m fine, and I’ll stay fine. And I’m not stopping. If I can clear your brother, I will. But know this. I won’t pull any punches.”
Tucker rubbed the back of his neck. “If Irene knew, she’d be as grateful as I am. But she’d also be just as worried. No more burials, George. Not over this. Not worth it.”
“I couldn’t agree more. I’ll get back to you.”
Tucker turned off the phone, and shoved it in his pocket. Bookies. There’d been nothing in Annie’s life or financial history that would tie her to gambling of any sort. Nothing. He couldn’t say the same for Christian.
Jesus, what if…? No, he wouldn’t jump to conclusions. The idea that Christian could be involved with the embezzlement had crossed his mind before—Tucker wasn’t an idiot—but he’d dismissed the notion.
The reason for that was clear. He just hoped like hell he wasn’t going to be responsible for hurting his mother even more than she was already. In the middle of forcing a deep breath, it finally struck him why he’d been annoyed that Christian switched from Irene to Mom. Subconsciously he’d recognized it had been a tactic. Pure manipulation. To tug at Tucker’s emotions by upping the stakes. Even if Tucker didn’t care about himself, Christian knew he’d care about what happened to Irene. He’d back off then.
The question remained…why? Did Christian truly believe Leanna Warner was involved with the mob and feared for his life? Or was he afraid she had information that would prove his own guilt?
Damn, everything had just gotten more complicated. He should never have come to Montana. But if he’d never come, he’d have never met Annie. She wasn’t the dangerous woman his brother had painted her to be. Not possible.
He walked into the store and found her by the tractors. The second she took the copy of her purchase order, he pulled her into his arms and backed her away from the counter. “I should take you to dinner. You haven’t eaten for hours.”
“But…?”
He looked at her, wanting to tell her everything, wanting to hide her away where no one would ever hurt her. She wasn’t guilty; he still believed that with every fiber of his being, every inch of his soul. And he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman. “Are you really hungry?”
“Starving,” she said, a slow, sexy smile lifting the corners of her lips.
He winced, but only for a second. “Want to go find a restaurant?”
“Not a chance. Where is this hotel of yours?”
THE HOTEL WASN’T CLOSE ENOUGH. They had to get into the car, drive for several blocks, find a place to park. By then, Annie’s focus had shifted from deposits and new engines back to sex. Sex with this man. Not only had it been ages since she’d slept with anyone, the last time she’d had sex it had been only so-so. He’d been nice, and they’d hit it off pretty well over the course of several shared meals. But in bed? They hadn’t gotten in sync. She’d sworn at the time that she was done with settling, that no man would get her into bed unless there was serious heat between them.
Tucker qualified. He kept stealing glances. She kept meeting his gaze. The sizzle should have steamed up the windows.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, as they walked from the parking lot, her toothbrush and a three-pack of ugly drugstore panties safely in her purse.
“That walking in my condition is awkward and a little painful.”
“Blister from your boots?”
His arm around her shoulders tightened. “Yeah. A blister.”
“I might have a blister myself. Smaller than yours, though.”
“I should hope so.”
Her stomach grumbled. Loudly. She put her hand on her belly. “Sorry about that.”
“When’s the last time you ate?”
“This morning. I had breakfast.”
“Which consisted of…?”
“Hey, no playing Mom.”
He bumped her hip with his. “That’s not at all how I’m feeling at the moment, but I have seen your refrigerator. And your cupboards.”
“Fine. I had toast and string cheese.”
He brought them to a halt. “I’m feeding you.”
“Yes, you are. Later.”
“Not later. Now. I don’t need you passing out during the best part.”
She turned until she stood close enough to press against his “blister.” “What precisely would the best part be?”
He kissed her, then moved his lips just far enough away from her to whisper, “All of it.”
She captured his lower lip between her teeth, but let him go before he could object. “The gift shop has candy bars.”
His green eyes looked darker staring at her from such close range, but she liked the view. Liked the man. “I feel like I’m not taking care of you properly.”
“You can fix that the minute we get into your room.”
“Why are we talking? We could be buying candy right this second.”
She held on to his hand as they jogged to the back entrance and found the shop. She grabbed the first chocolate bar she saw, glad to see he picked one up, as well. Neither of them wasted a moment digging in, and they crumbled the wrapping in unison
