close.”
Beth took a step toward the kitchen to follow.
“No, no. You stay there and enjoy your coffee. It’ll be so nice having another woman around here. And you know, there really is a lot Nick can teach you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she mumbled after her hostess went through the door.
Nick Burke had been a thorn in her side since she’d arrived in Marfa, Texas. Each way she turned in this investigation, there he stood. He was thrown in her path or she was thrown in his. Even the horrid horses she’d been on had worked against her efforts to stay away from him.
Now her supervisors had arranged for her to bunk at Burke’s ranch and practically be bait wiggling on a hook. With one phone call, Ranger McCrea had assured the very people who had sent her here to fail that she had no problems. He’d told her boss that she was vital to the task force and that the firing of her weapon and subsequent death of an attempted murderer fell under his jurisdiction. The matter had been investigated and was closed.
Then he’d turned to her and said she needed to learn more about the area and enhance her riding skills.
What riding skills? She was a city girl, used to mass transit and high-rises on every corner. She’d refused to resign after her mistakes in Chicago. So as punishment, they’d sent her on an assignment she couldn’t possibly complete. The wide open spaces made her feel small and inferior. Not to mention the wild animals...or the tame ones.
Nothing could be worse than banishment to West Texas for letting her guard down.
Well, it wouldn’t happen again. There would be no hesitation. None. Ever.
She sipped her coffee, and wandered around the immaculate room. She lifted a picture of a young Nick and Kate McCrea back in high school. Was that a twinge of jealousy eking its way into her emotions? No. She wouldn’t fall for the hurt, silent cowboy no matter how compelling his story.
But it didn’t matter. She set his picture back in its spot on the writing desk. Every time he opened his mouth it was easy to push him further into a “don’t touch” category. Almost as far as she seemed to have landed on his “not worth the bother” list.
The smell of baking biscuits soon filled the air. She should offer to help in the kitchen again, but she truly was hopeless there. Her mother had tried to teach her often enough, but nothing had stuck. When setting the table she could never remember which side of the plate the knife or fork should be set. Of course, that wasn’t the reason she was here. The real reason was about six-three and didn’t want her near him...or his mother.
“Mornin’.” Nick’s greeting was anything but pleasant in tone. It was something close to—but not quite—reluctant tolerance. “How’s your arm?”
Beth gulped the last swallow of coffee and continued to stare out the window toward the mountains that looked close enough to touch. So did he—at least his reflection.
The T-shirt he wore was tight over a sculpted chest any woman would envy to be near. He pushed his arms through the sleeves of a second shirt that hid the uneven but nice work tan. His dark blue jeans were loose around his lean thighs. He needed new jeans to show off his perfection. She forced her body not to squirm in anticipation. She’d experienced exactly how muscular his legs were.
It was rude to keep her back to him. But as much as she’d tried to prepare herself for his arrival, facing him again was harder than she’d anticipated. At least she wasn’t alone. He wasn’t facing her, either.
She watched him drop his chin to his chest and rest his hands on the back of the couch that split the room from the formal dining table. It was probably a good idea to keep a large piece of furniture between them.
“Guess you’re okay if you’re up and about. I heard you needed a favor.”
That deep voice did something to her insides every time. His sexy tone seeped somewhere down her spine and made her very aware of how his breath had touched her there—and a lot of other places. She shifted and could see his reflection in the window again, seated in the side chair now, bent at the waist, pulling his boots on. Muscles rippled in his arms just like when they’d—
Whew. She couldn’t go there every time they were in the same room. But it was so easy to return to that blanket, next to the mountain fire, under a gazillion stars. His hair was wet, dripping onto his shirt. She’d seen it before. Seen just about all of him in the buff.
“That was a quick shower,” she said as if she knew how long his showers were normally.
He stamped his heel into place inside his boot as he stood. “Mom’s baking biscuits. Tends to get me out fast. Do you need something or not?”
All right, the biscuits were a priority and he hadn’t taken a quick shower just because she was waiting. That was good to know.
“Your arm is okay. Right?” he asked with a shrug.
She looked at her sleeve as if she could see through it to the deep graze she’d received when she’d been shot. A consequential wound that had made her woozy enough not to remember exactly what had transpired before she embarrassingly passed out. “Yes. It’s healing nicely.”
This boring conversation was quite different from their last. At that time, Nick had said something along the lines that she was an inept agent and he never wanted to see her again. And here she was feeling like a tossed-off girlfriend. Juliet and Kate had assured her it was necessary to convince Nick that staying here was all her idea. But the women didn’t know they’d slept together. That put an embarrassing spin on things.
Having to take the blame for staying at the Burke’s wouldn’t encourage him to believe she didn’t want a relationship. Honestly, there couldn’t be any fraternization now. She could fight it. She was a professional. This was her work environment. If she ever wanted to be transferred from this desolate area and back to the real action... Well, she needed to learn how to be successful here. She had to get along with Nick Burke.
Shooting the man holding him at gunpoint had been easier than facing him. He wasn’t smiling. And beyond all reason she still felt the attraction throughout her entire body.
He slapped his thighs, breaking her stupor.
“So what’s this favor?”
“Your mother has a great sense of humor,” she began, hesitating at his quizzical expression. “She, um, volunteered your ranch as a favor for the DEA. Not really a favor for me—”
She braced for a barrage of reasons why she should leave the Burke ranch. Nick couldn’t possibly want her here. Should she fight him or let him win? No question, she had to fight him. This was the only place for her to learn what she needed. The Rocking B and Nick Burke were her last chance.
“She volunteered the ranch for what?” He fisted his hands and rested one on each hip, waiting for the answer. It didn’t take a genius to interpret the rapid pulse visible in his neck or the dread his voice didn’t disguise.
Nerves froze her in place. Even though she didn’t want to watch his reaction, she couldn’t turn away.
