Luke: Armed and Dangerous (6 page)

Luke fisted his hands at his sides, lust raging through his body. He watched Trinity
as she left, a gentle sway to her hips and a little wobble to her walk, like she wasn’t
entirely used to wearing shoes with heels the size of nail heads.

The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile. He could just picture those ankles around
his neck as he slid into her... damn.

As he tried to clear his mind enough to have a thought not involving hours of steamy
sex, Trinity bumped into the brunette with the big tits, Joyce Butler. Luke noted
the beers in Butler’s hands, and he watched them slip to the carpeted floor.

Oh, yeah. She went to get me a beer. Well, good. Now she’ll have to go back for more.

Joyce Butler looked pissed, like she’d just swallowed an anthill.

Luke heard Trinity say, “Joyce Butler?” in a surprised tone, followed by a snappy,
snarky question from Butler that Luke couldn’t hear and that Trinity didn’t answer.

A moment later, Trinity turned and slipped into the crowd, vanishing from his sight.

Right then his gut told him that she didn’t intend to come back.

He’d see about that.

The way she’d kissed him, the way she had trembled in his arms, her passionate purr...
all had made it clear as an Arizona sky that she wanted him as badly as he wanted
her. Problem was she didn’t know how to handle those desires.

He was just the man to teach her.

Since he was several inches taller than most of the folks at the party, Luke was able
to search the crowd for the petite strawberry blonde, and spotted her at the top of
the stairs just before she disappeared from view. Damn she was fast. He started after
her, only to find Joyce Butler blocking his path. She already had fresh beers, and
two servants were busy cleaning up the spill she had left behind.

“Thanks,” he said, waving off the beer she offered. “I appreciate it, but something’s
come up. I’ll have to get back to you.” He tried to sidestep her.

She placed one hand on his bicep and deliberately moved in his way, her perfume as
brazen as she was. “Not so fast, handsome.”

Even though the woman was keeping Luke from going after Trinity, his upbringing and
professional instincts kept him from being outright rude. His mama had raised him
to always be polite to a lady. Besides, he still needed as much information as he
could get from Joyce Butler on the Guerrero operation.

“Okay.” He nodded and tried to move, but her hand tightened. “What can I do for you?”

“You at least owe me a dance, cowboy,” she said as she brushed her breasts against
his chest.

“I’d be obliged if you’d save a dance for me later.” He gave her another slight nod
and a tight smile. Before Joyce Butler could respond, he took her by the shoulders
and gently removed her from his path.

Well, gently enough.

Luke barely heard Joyce’s gasp of annoyance above the Christmas music as he walked
away.

In a few strides he made it to the stairs and took them by threes. When he reached
the B & B’s front room that served as the lobby, he saw Nevaeh standing in front of
the registration desk with a slip of paper in her hand.

“What the—” she said as her gaze cut to the desk clerk. “This is it? All she left?”

Luke didn’t stop. He headed straight to the front door and yanked it open.

December’s chill air rushed in, but outside all he could see were cars parked up and
down Old Bisbee’s Main Street. The rain- soaked blacktop reflected red, orange, blue,
and green Christmas lights strung down the silent street—but nothing else. Not even
a pair of taillights.

Ah, hell.

The click of Nevaeh’s heels against the tile and her powdery perfume alerted Luke
to her presence, even before she spoke. “I saw you with Trinity. Do you have something
to do with her leaving? What’s your name, anyway?”

“Luke.” He shut the door a little too hard as he clenched his jaw and pivoted to face
Nevaeh. “Where’d she go?”

“Her sister’s.” Nevaeh shook the note at Luke. “I’d told her to go meet you, but I
sure never thought you’d scare her off like this. I haven’t seen her in years.”

Luke snatched the note from Nevaeh’s hand.

Left for Skylar’s. I’ll call. T.M.

“Skylar...” His gaze shot up to meet Nevaeh’s frustrated expression as it finally
hit him. Where he’d seen Trinity’s eyes before. Eyes that had been hidden behind glasses
in pictures taken years ago. Photos he’d seen countless times at the Flying M. Eyes
that had captured his attention the first time he’d seen them. Had made him wonder
about the girl... the woman.

Shit.

“Trinity MacKenna.” He shook his head. Some big bad DEA investigative agent he was.
“Skylar’s younger sister. But I thought her name was Madeline.”

“She uses her middle name now,” Nevaeh said. “Madeline—that one brings back bad memories.”

“Madeline?”
Joyce Butler’s voice sounded loud and sarcastic from behind him. “You mean Meaty
MacKenna? Last I heard, she was in England. What would you want with that heifer anyway?”
Both Luke and Nevaeh turned to face Joyce Butler. The woman had one hand on her hip
as she tossed her dark hair over her shoulder.

Luke narrowed his eyes, but Nevaeh laid into the woman before he could open his mouth.
“I don’t care if your daddy is running for Congress. I wouldn’t give a flying fuck
if he was the President of the United States,” Nevaeh said with fury in her voice
as she pointed to the front door where Trinity had made her hasty exit. “If you ever
talk about my best friend like that again, I’ll kick your ass from here to Texas.
You hear me?”

“That was Madeline MacKenna?” Recognition dawned in Joyce’s eyes, but her tone turned
cool as she glanced from Nevaeh to Luke. “The slut in the red dress?”

“You bitch.” Nevaeh stepped forward, her fist raised, but Luke caught her by the shoulders
and held her back. “Let me at her, damn it!”

“Not worth it,” he responded in a controlled voice as he turned Nevaeh loose, his
gaze fixed on Joyce Butler. To hell with information. “She is definitely not worth
it.”

“Now, now. We should keep this civil.” Francisco Guerrero approached on Joyce’s right,
and took her elbow gently in his hand. “This event is for charity, after all.”

Nevaeh mumbled under her breath, and Luke wanted to break his promise to Rios and
shoot Guerrero on the spot.

Then he noted that Joyce Butler wasn’t pulling away from Guerrero’s grip. Her furious
expression had softened to something like familiarity—or maybe even disguised fear.

Shit.

Maybe Joyce Butler was a lot more familiar with Guerrero than anyone had realized.

Guerrero’s chilly gaze swept over Nevaeh, then settled on Luke. “If you let that magnificent
creature get away, shame on you, Señor...”

“Rider,” Luke supplied, though he had a gut-stabbing sensation the bastard knew exactly
who he was.

Joyce Butler’s frown settled into a harsh, pressed line, but she said nothing.

“Señor Rider.” Guerrero’s smile was as phony as Monopoly money.

Luke knew better than to push the issue. One wrong step, and his cover—not to mention
a year-long DEA operation and even more complex investigations by a bunch of other
branches of law enforcement—would get blown to shit.

“You’re not welcome here,” Nevaeh said to Joyce Butler. “No offense, Mr. Guerrero.
If you hadn’t come with Noah Ralston, Joyce, I’d never have let you through the front
door.”

Ralston. Thank God.
Luke let out a short breath. Ralston would likely be able to get the skinny on Guerrero
from Butler, since she’d no sooner spit than talk to Luke now. Good ol’ Noah sure
needed help with his taste in women, though. Luke had to say he’d never pictured Ralston
as going for a woman such as Butler. Must be one hell of a story wrapped up in all
that.

“Well, Nevaeh, you still have the hots for Noah, I see.” Joyce Butler extracted her
arm from Guerrero’s fingers, and Luke caught the flash of anger in Guerrero’s dark
eyes. “I’ve got better places to be.”

Chin up, Butler swayed her hips deliberately as she headed toward the main desk, took
her belongings from the clerk, and walked to the front door. She skimmed her gaze
over Guerrero and Luke before laying a particularly spiteful look on Nevaeh. “Give
up on Noah, sweetie. He’d never go for a fat ass like you.”

Guerrero stepped smoothly between Nevaeh and the front door as it slammed behind Joyce
Butler.

Luke was grateful for the intervention, but he still had to grab Nevaeh’s shoulders
again. Her face was redder than a bullfighter’s cape.

“Let me get out there and punch her once.” Nevaeh’s fists clenched, and she struggled
like a hellcat against his hold. “Just once.”

It was Guerrero who said the obvious this time. “Señorita, you must not stoop to the
level of a woman like that.” He glanced at the closed front door, and Luke saw that
flash-in-the-pan rage again, hot enough to peel paint. “We have a lovely party to
return to. Might I escort you to greet some more of your guests?”

Nevaeh tensed, but Luke saw the truth on her face. Yes, she was frightened of Guerrero,
and she also knew this was an invitation she shouldn’t refuse. “Thank you,” she murmured
as Luke turned her loose again.

Francisco Guerrero put out his hand, and Nevaeh took it. Luke didn’t like letting
her walk away with Guerrero, but there was no way he could make a scene without sacrificing
everything.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Guerrero kissed Nevaeh’s hand, and as
he lowered it, he locked eyes with Luke.

Luke tensed, calculating where his weapon was, how fast he could get to it, and how
many people might get hurt in the crossfire.

What’s he playing at?

Luke could almost smell the gunpowder-fire scent from hot pistol barrels.

Guerrero turned slowly toward the crowd, gesturing for the servants to start the Christmas
music again, and leading Nevaeh forward to mingle with her better-mannered guests.

Christ.

Way to go, Denver. You really made a pal out of Guerrero. And kept a low profile,
too. Great job.

Luke figured he had done enough damage for one night. The most he could do at the
bed-and-breakfast now was make a bigger mess.

He adjusted his duster and headed off to find Noah so he could take care of business,
then get the hell out of Dodge.

Bisbee.

Hell, whatever.

Trinity gripped the steering wheel of the sleek rented Mustang convertible while she
headed into the night and out of Bisbee on the hour drive, past Douglas, to the Flying
M.

Fortunately she’d packed her luggage in the trunk before the party to try to make
herself go visit Skylar, so all she’d had to do was grab her purse and coat from the
desk clerk and scribble a quick note to Nevaeh before she’d fled.

Blacktop and yellow highway markings scrolled by her headlights, glittering from the
recent rain. Her thoughts whirled—she couldn’t believe she’d just kissed another man.

Should she be upfront and tell Race? Or was it better left unsaid? A one-time mistake
that wouldn’t be repeated.

Yet her stomach flipped and her heart pounded harder as she remembered every moment
in Luke’s presence. The way he’d staked his claim on her, as though he intended to
make her his. The way he’d brought his mouth to hers and paused, his breath warm on
her lips, just waiting to see if she’d refuse him.

And oh, God.
The way he kissed. The way fire had seared every part of her body, like flames burning
just beneath her skin. She’d never felt such intensity with any other man. She was
so worked up now she could almost scream. If she hadn’t slipped away, would she have
ended up in bed with him?

Would she have cheated on Race?

Her face grew hotter, but she couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment at what she’d
done... or the heat of desire from imagining what it would be like to make love to
Luke.

Trinity flipped on the radio in an effort to get her mind on something else. The rich
voice of the man singing a popular country- western tune only reminded her of Luke’s
deep baritone.

She tried to turn her thoughts to the deserted country highway, tried to get the cowboy
out of her mind, but it was impossible. Her body ached for him, in every intimate
place. The silk dress caressing her skin and her tight thong didn’t help matters any.
Considering the chilly desert night, she was burning hot.

Jeez.
She couldn’t get to Skylar’s looking like this—decked out in this tiny little outfit,
looking like she’d just made out with a guy. What was she thinking?

Trinity kept her eyes open for a dirt road and pulled the Mustang onto the first available
one she spotted. Good thing this was a rural area. She could make a quick change and
get back on the road.

After she made sure she was well off the highway, Trinity parked the car and turned
off the ignition, but left the radio on. The blue glow from the dashboard was the
only light in the car, but outside the moon slid from behind a scrap of moody clouds
and washed the desert with its silvery radiance.

She leaned against the cool glass of the side window as she looked up at the incredible
display above her, stars glittering in patches where clouds had retreated. She’d forgotten
how bright the stars were out here in the country, far from any towns. It was beautiful.
What would it be like to make love to Luke under these stars?

No, Race.
She meant what would it be like to make love to Race.

Yeah, right.

With a groan, Trinity moved and reached between the bucket seats to grab her duffel
out of the back. From years of travel experience, she always kept a quick change of
casual clothes in a carry-on bag, along with basic necessities, just in case her luggage
was lost at the airport or stolen from the trunk of her car.