happened at all. He accepted her instinctive invitation, his tongue sliding along hers, his fingers automatically tightening around her slender arms. The same need that had always filled him when he so much as looked at Sabrina washed over him now, making him weak with want, making his blood boil in his veins.
“Guess you know each other pretty well. I’ll… ah…just wait over by the training center,” Raymond announced, breaking the fragile connection that had whisked Court back into the past he’d tried so hard to forget.
Sabrina flattened her palms against his chest and tried to push him away. He knew he had to stop, but, damn, he didn’t want to. The feel of her touch, even knowing that she was pushing him away, arced through him.
“Stop,” she managed to blurt between his stolen kisses.
Court drew back just far enough to look into those wide, startled eyes. He focused his most intimidating glare down at her. “You don’t know me anymore, Brin, so don’t say anything we’ll both regret.”
She wrenched out of his grasp and glared back at him. Court knew the instant she’d made her decision. He braced himself for the blow.
Sabrina slapped him hard.
He deserved it.
“I don’t know what you’re doing back here, Court Brody,” she said hotly, her breath still ragged from his kiss. “And I don’t care, but I want you to stay away from me.”
Court held her gaze for two beats longer, as difficult as that proved with her glaring daggers at him and his lips yearning to mate with hers once more. “Just remember what I said, and we’ll both be safe.”
She blinked and uncertainty replaced some of the fury in her eyes. “Is…this some sort of undercover job?” Anxiety tightened the pretty features of her face. “You’re not…are you here to—”
He forced a bitter laugh. “Hate to disappoint you, but I’m not that guy anymore. You don’t know me.”
He walked away without looking back. His heart skipped a beat or two as he struggled to calm his breathing. Raymond was waiting, probably wondering what was up with the little episode of “remember when” that Court and Sabrina had just played out. Now he’d have to figure out a way to explain that kiss.
Damn.
Just what he needed—he swore again—to get his cover made before he even got started with this assignment. Court blew out a breath as he strode in the direction of the training center. It never once entered his mind that he might run into her at this militia compound. Sabrina should be married and raising a family by now. Court clenched his jaw at the thought of her with another man.
She sure as hell didn’t belong to him. And Sabrina Korbett was a distraction he didn’t need right now. Especially not here.
Getting into the compound had been easy.
Now all he had to do was stay alive until he got the information he needed.
But Sabrina knew his secret. If she told anyone what she knew, all the information in the world wouldn’t do Court any good.
Because he’d be a dead man.
CHAPTER ONE
WHY HAD HE come back here?
Halfway down the mile-long dirt-and-gravel driveway, Court Brody slowed the old truck he had purchased for this assignment to a stop and surveyed the Lonesome Pony ranch. Though not the same ranch he had grown up on, the scene was all too familiar. A wide stream curved through the property like a winding snake. The towering mountain ranges served as a backdrop for a picture straight off the pages of a calendar. A large barn and corral sat in the distance, beyond the trees that bordered the house and yard. Though more modern, the big rambling house with its sprawling front porch reminded him of the one he hadn’t lived in as a kid growing up in Montana.
Nope. His family had occupied a much smaller place just far enough away from the big house to know he didn’t really belong, but not quite far enough away to ignore what he was missing. Court swallowed the bitterness that welled in his throat at the memories.
His family had been dirt poor. Once his pathetic excuse for a father had died, he and his three bothers had scattered apart like so much dust in the wind. But he had landed on his feet. He’d gotten his college degree by working hard and earning a scholarship. Then he’d joined the Bureau. He had what he wanted now—money, prestige and a great condo as far away from this damned place as he could get and still remain in the continental United States. His brothers hadn’t done so badly either.
“Enough, Brody,” Court grumbled. Coming back here wasn’t his idea, but he would make the best of it because it was his job. And Courtland Brody never failed at his job. He was good. He knew it, and the Bureau knew it as well. If Daniel Austin and the rest of his Montana Confidential crew didn’t know it yet, they soon would. Whether they ever wanted to admit it or not. Court knew the business of undercover work.
A division of the Federal Department of Safety, Montana Confidential worked in a way the Bureau couldn’t. The agents lived and worked a ranch, thus blending in with the locals. The Bureau, acting as Big Brother, offered to lend a hand in getting the Montana operation off the ground. Translation: Court’s new assignment, infiltrate the militia and determine what leader Joshua Neely was up to. Not such a bad assignment had it been any place else on the planet. There were far too many memories here that he didn’t want to relive. Too many faces he didn’t want to see…couldn’t bear to see.
Disgusted with himself for loitering in the past, Court drove the rest of the way to the house and parked behind Daniel Austin’s truck. It was Saturday and most of the crew appeared to be on the porch enjoying the late August afternoon. Thankfully it wasn’t as hot as it had been the past couple of days. He might as well get this over with. Court emerged from the vehicle and strode toward the house.
Not surprisingly, Dale McMurty was the first to greet him. Dale and her husband, Patrick, were locals and friendly to a fault. Exactly the kind of people he’d left behind eleven years ago. He didn’t want anyone close, and the McMurtys liked to get close. The elderly couple served as caretakers for the ranch Montana Confidential used as a home base. Just one more reason he was glad to be bunking at the compound now.
“Howdy, Court,” Dale shouted, hands propped on her apron-clad, ample hips. She appraised him from head to toe as he stepped up onto the porch. “Now, that’s more like it, son. You look like you belong on a ranch instead of in some big fancy office.”
Court couldn’t prevent the half smile that tilted one side of his mouth. Leave it to Dale to praise his thrift-store finds. He needed to fit in, therefore faded jeans and worn shirts were a must. But the boots and hat were his own. Some things a man couldn’t compromise on. No matter how long he lived in the city, he didn’t think he would ever find anything that wore better than a good pair of boots.
“You look like the Marlboro man,” Whitney MacNair, Austin’s executive assistant, noted, approval in her crisp voice. As usual, she looked like a model off the cover of Cosmopolitan magazine.
“Thank you, ladies,” Court acknowledged with a tip of his hat. Dale was likely just being nice, Court knew, but Whitney—the fashion queen—was another story. “I couldn’t exactly waltz into Neely’s compound wearing Armani, now could I?”
Whitney
