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The Rancher Bodyguard
Carla Cassidy
Table of Contents
Carla Cassidy is an award-winning author who has written more than fifty novels. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from Romantic Times BOOK-reviews. In 1998, she also won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series.
Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.
As he approached the barn, Charlie Black saw the sleek, scarlet convertible pulling into his driveway, and wondered when exactly, while he’d slept the night before, hell had frozen over. Because the last time he’d seen Grace Covington, that’s what she’d told him would have to happen before she’d ever talk to or even look at him again.
He patted the neck of his stallion and reined in at the corral. As he dismounted and pulled off his dusty black hat, he tried to ignore the faint thrum of electricity that zinged through him as she got out of her car.
Her long blond hair sparkled in the late afternoon sun, but he was still too far away to see the expression on her lovely features.
It had been a year and a half since he’d seen her, even though for the past six months they’d resided in the same small town of Cotter Creek, Oklahoma.
The last time he’d encountered her had been in his upscale apartment in Oklahoma City. He’d been wearing a pair of sports socks and an electric blue condom. Not one of his finer moments, but it had been the culminating incident in a year of not-so-fine moments.
Too much money, too many successes and far too much booze had transformed his life into a nightmare of bad moments, the last resulting in him losing the only thing worth having.
Surely she hadn’t waited all this time to come out to the family ranch—his ranch now—to finally put a bullet in what she’d described as his cold, black heart. Grace had never been the type of woman to put off till today what she could have done yesterday.
Besides, she hadn’t needed a gun on that terrible Friday night when she’d arrived unannounced at his apartment. As he’d stared at her in a drunken haze, she’d given it to him with both barrels, calling him every vile name under the sun before she slammed out of his door and out of his life.
So, what was she doing here now? He slapped his horse on the rump, then motioned to a nearby ranch hand to take care of the animal. He closed the gate and approached where she hadn’t moved away from the driver’s side of her car.
Her hair had grown much longer since he’d last seen her. Although most of it was clasped at the back of her neck, several long wisps had escaped the confines. The beige suit she wore complemented her blond coloring and the icy blue of her eyes.
She might look cool and untouchable, like the perfect lady, but he knew what those eyes looked like flared with desire. He knew how she moaned with wild abandon when making love, and he hated the fact that just the unexpected sight of her brought back all the memories he’d worked so long and hard to forget.
“Hello, Grace,” he said, as he got close enough to speak without competing with the warm April breeze. “I have to admit I’m surprised to see you. As I remember, the last time we saw each other, you indicated that hell would freeze over before you’d ever speak to me again.”
Her blue eyes flashed with more than a touch of annoyance—a flash followed swiftly by a look of desperation.
“Charlie, I need you.” Her low voice trembled slightly, and only then did he notice that her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she’d been weeping. In all the time they’d dated—even during the ugly scene that had ended them—he’d never seen her shed a single tear. “Have you heard the news?” she asked.
“What news?”
“Early this afternoon my stepfather was found stabbed to death in bed.” She paused for a moment and bit her full lower lip as her eyes grew shiny with suppressed tears. “I think Hope is in trouble, Charlie. I think she’s really in bad trouble.”
“What?” Shock stabbed through him. Hope was Grace’s fifteen-year-old sister. He’d met her a couple of times. She’d seemed like a nice kid, not as pretty as her older sister, but a cutie nevertheless.
“Maybe you should come on inside,” he said, and gestured toward the house. She
