give you reason to charge me with obstruction, but unless it’s hard evidence, I’ll be keeping whatever I learn to myself.” He straddled one of the chairs and regarded her patiently. “It’s your call. I’ve got some great sources in town who’ll help me if I ask, but they won’t give you, an outsider and a stranger, the time of day without a warrant. If you want answers quickly, I’m your best bet.”
There was something infinitely masculine about the way he was sitting, his steady gaze on her. Paul was all testosterone wrapped in a nice tight package of muscles, courage and pride.
“You’re trying to push me into a corner,” she said.
“Nah. If I were, we’d both enjoy it more,” he said, giving her the most amazing lopsided grin.
She glared at him, a look she’d learned from her dad, the colonel, but Paul never even flinched. He calmly gazed back, challenging her with his easy smile and iron will.
This was getting her nowhere, and the fact was, he held all the cards right now. “All right, we’ll work together, but I’m wearing the badge, so follow my lead.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said, standing.
He’d agreed a little too quickly for her tastes, but she’d take it as a win. “I’m good at what I do, Paul. You’ll find that out soon enough. If Miller’s here, I’ll take him down.” Once again she blew the annoying strand away from her face.
He strode up to her, stopping so close she could feel the warmth of his body. A shiver touched her spine, but refusing to step away, she threw her shoulders back and met his gaze.
Paul smiled, brushing his hand over the side of her face and pushing away the strand of hair. “There you go. I saw you crinkling your nose and trying to blow it away. I thought I’d help.”
He towered over her. Awareness, the raw and totally inappropriate kind, made her heart begin to race. “Static electricity. No humidity here in the desert.” She stepped around him quickly. She’d glom it down with a half can of hair spray if necessary from now on.
“All right then,” she said. “We leave in the morning. You lead the way out so I won’t get stuck again.”
“Why did you rent a sedan? That wasn’t a very practical choice for the Four Corners.”
“No kidding. I flew into the Hartley airport planning to rent something with four-wheel drive, but the agency had most of their vehicles on reserve for an event over at the power plant.”
He nodded. “Daniel’s training exercise. They put on a show for politicians and investors.”
She walked around the big room, putting more distance between them and pretending to admire the decor. Paul was a living, breathing temptation. It had been a long time since she’d met a man who could make her pulse start racing just by stepping close to her.
“As long as the sniper is out there, one of us should stay awake and keep watch. We need a schedule,” she said.
“We are safe,” he repeated with his usual calm. “But, okay, what do you have in mind?”
“How about four-hour rotating shifts?” she said.
“Fine. I’ll take the first watch,” he said. “I’ll need to be a lot more tired before I can doze off anyway.”
As he reached down to adjust a log on the fire, she saw him rub his shoulder. “Do you need painkillers?” she asked, wishing she’d considered that possibility earlier. If his senses were occasionally lulled by medicine of any kind...
“My shoulder aches a bit from time to time, but I don’t take anything for it. There’s no need,” he said. “The reason I wouldn’t be able to sleep right now is because I’m not tired enough. I’ve never required the same amount of rest most people do—a plus in my former and current professions.”
“If I don’t get enough sleep, my brain doesn’t work right, and at the moment, I’m exhausted,” she said. “It’s almost three a.m. now, so let me sleep till seven. Then you can wake me and get some sleep yourself while I get in touch with your brother and see what he or his people have found out. Once you’re up we’ll drive in to Hartley.”
“Preston will have something for you by morning, count on it. When he’s working a case, he sleeps even less than I do.”
“One more thing,” she said. “If you need to go outside for any reason, be sure to tell me. I tend to go on the offensive if an unexpected noise wakes me up.”
“You’re always on alert?”
“Yeah. When I’m running down a fugitive or I’m on a protection detail, a part of my brain is always on duty.”
“Good instincts. They’ll keep you in one piece.”
As he glanced away to turn off a lamp, she unhooked her holster. Leaving her weapon inside, she placed it on the coffee table within grasp.
“Use the blanket,” he said, taking the closest chair. “It’s comfortable and warm.”
She pulled it over her. Wrapped in a comfortable cocoon of warmth, Kendra closed her eyes. Without visual cues, she became aware of Paul in a more primal way. She could hear the even sound of his breathing and enjoyed the outdoorsy scent that clung to him.
Though he was quiet, she heard him get up to stoke the fire. The crackling of the logs and the comfort of the blanket worked a magic all their own and soon she drifted off to sleep.
Paul smiled, his gaze resting on Kendra. Although he knew no one was out there, he remained seated on the easy chair closest to a window. Taking off the lynx fetish he wore around his neck, he held it in his palm and gazed at it for a moment. Like all of Hosteen Silver’s gifts, the hand-carved wooden artifact was far more complicated than it appeared to be at a glance.
Lynx was said to be able to peer into the soul of man or beast and see the secrets hidden there. As the owner of the fetish, he knew that gift was his to use, but for many years he’d refused to accept such things were possible.
Slowly, as his mind had opened to new possibilities, he’d discovered that he could always sense when someone was lying to him, or even holding back. In time, he’d stopped searching for logical explanations and grew to accept his newfound ability.
The gift had served him well during his days as a U.S. Marshal and continued to do so now, even though he no longer wore the badge. He leaned back and relaxed, confident that the terrain around the house held no secrets from him or Lynx.
Hearing the rhythmic sound of Kendra’s breathing, he focused on the woman. The blanket had slipped to her waist, and her simple wool sweater, though loose, accentuated her full breasts. Like many women in the marshals service, she did her best to underplay her curves, but thankfully, some things were impossible to hide.
Kendra was an irresistible blend of toughness and gentleness. She was clearly a fighter who’d refused to back down, even when staring down three gun barrels. Yet, in this unguarded moment, she was the most feminine of women.
He’d known all types of females and enjoyed their company, but he’d always had one rule. He never stayed with any particular
