Run Wild (42 page)

“I mean it, Trent. Back off. Go find some pretty little thing who will jump every time you demand it. I am not the one.”

“Yes, you are.”

“What?”

“You’re the one.”

Natasha suddenly couldn’t catch her breath. She was light-headed. But if he saw her defenses were down, he’d move in and strike.

“What do you mean?” she asked, taking a step backward when he moved closer.

Trent continued closing in on her. Natasha moved toward the back of her truck and paused when she glimpsed a view of the mountains on the horizon.

“Spending the evening with your father last night was a real eye-opener.”

Natasha turned around, immediately prepared to defend her dad. She’d done it all her life and the words were there without giving them thought.

Trent put his finger over her lips. “He’s one hell of a guy.”

She sensed there was a lot more Trent could say but held back. He was right. Her father was one hell of a guy. He had major faults, too.

“Getting to know him explains a lot about his daughter.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.” Trent’s hands moved to her arms.

Natasha wasn’t sure when he’d trapped her between the driver’s side and his body. But she was suddenly aware of every virile muscle in Trent’s hard-as-steel body pressed against her. Trent let go of one arm, gripped her chin, and tilted her head back so she stared into the molten-lava heat smoldering in his eyes.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before.” His voice was raspy.

If Trent had thought about more than whether her father was guilty or innocent last night, she wanted to hear what he might say. Anything to help her understand why he was driving her crazy with need and just as bad with irritation. He’d chosen one hell of a time to share his feelings with her. If she didn’t get out to Trinity Ranch soon, someone might die.

“You say I’m stubborn and bullheaded.” He began shaking his head, as a smile lit up his eyes. “You were hauling ass out to Jim Burrows’ to inform him his life was in danger. More than likely, somewhere in that willful brain of yours you knew he wouldn’t listen to you. But did you call for backup? Did you call me?”

Natasha opened her mouth to defend her actions. She knew exactly where he was going with this. Trent plowed forward before she could say a word.

“No, you didn’t. And why didn’t you? Because you’re pissed off at me.”

She started to agree with him.

Trent didn’t give her a chance. “You’re mad as hell that I push you, that I tell you what to do, that I don’t appear to be acknowledging that you’re fully capable of defending yourself as well as any one person can.”

“I’m glad it’s finally sunk in.” Natasha focused on his eyes and her insides quickened. “Did someone tell you I was going to Trinity Ranch? Do you think it’s smarter to stop me than to go out there?” she asked, narrowing her gaze on his and fighting the swelling deep in her womb at the same time.

God, he was so damn sexy.

“Both,” he said easily, his voice softening. His features relaxed, too. “And no.”

“What?”

“I’m saving your ass,” he growled. “Because I don’t want you shot, or worse. I want you to stay around.”

“Stay around?”

“Yes, damn it. With me. Here. Stay with me, Natasha.”

She blinked. When had his face softened, his hands moved to cup her cheeks, and his beautiful eyes filled with passion so deep it terrified her?

“I know what you’re feeling,” he whispered.

“What’s that?”

“You’re scared. I’m pulling at emotions you have refused to use before.”

“You think so?” She tried making a face at him but wasn’t sure admitting yet that she was no longer mad would be in her favor. Hell, she didn’t know what to do. That started getting her angry all over again.

Then he laughed, a deep baritone sound that sent shivers rushing over her skin.

“Sweetheart. You’ve fought all your life. Fought for attention, fought for your place in the world. Fighting comes easy to you. But loving, that is a very different story. And I want you to try loving me.”

All the weight she thought had lifted from her chest suddenly swelled in her throat. Her cheeks burned. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t catch her breath. Finally, Natasha shoved against him, her hands instantly tingling when she pressed them against his warm, hard body. Even with his T-shirt covering his broad chest, she still felt every finely tuned curve and bulge from all the muscles in his body.

Trent took a step back and dropped his hands. His expression was impossible to read.

“I don’t know why you have to bring this up right now,” she said, exasperated. Looking at him messed with her head, but dragging her attention elsewhere, even toward the breathtaking view of the mountains, seemed impossible to do.

“It seemed the perfect time to me.” Trent had a terrible habit of moving too fast.

He had her in his arms and captured her mouth with his before his words sank in. Natasha took only a moment to react. And even then, it was shock.

Love?

What the hell? Did Trent want her to consider moving here?

Nothing made sense. Trent kissed her with a savage hunger, leaning her backward, and impaling her mouth as if one day had been the worst of tortures to go without kissing her.

It took her a minute to realize how she clung to him. Her fingers pressed against corded muscle that flexed under her touch. She moved her tongue around his, craving every bit he offered her. Even then, it wasn’t enough. Natasha wanted to rip his clothes from his body, press him up against the side of the truck, and leap into his arms, both of them naked, and make love until they didn’t have an ounce of strength left in their bodies.

A car drove by and honked twice. Natasha leapt backward, her lips swollen as she bent over, fighting for her breath. She tried figuring out what had happened, other than just being busted in the sheriff’s arms, all their limbs twisted around each other, embraced in a kiss that possibly borderlined on illegal.

“I’ll hear about that one,” Trent muttered.

He was watching her when she slowly straightened. He watched her as if he waited to see if she would attack angrily or beg for more.

“Jim Burrows,” she said as the fog lifted from her brain. “We can discuss this later. I need to talk to Jim Burrows.” On an afterthought and because kissing Trent appealed to her a lot more than fighting with him, she added, “Come with me.”

Trent grabbed her car door before she could close it. “Head back into town,” he said.

“But—”

“It’s pointless for you to run out to the ranch right now. You were spotted leaving Pearl’s like a bat out of hell right after Reeding and Post had their conversation. They were following you because I trailed them. They aren’t going to do anything right now. They aren’t sure if their conversation was overheard or not, so they’ll lay cool for a bit. But I have their names and can take it from here.

“I’m going to call Jim right now, ask him to meet me over at my place. I’ll let him know it’s serious and I want him alone. That should work. He knows how hard it is to have a conversation without ears listening out at the ranch.”

“You want me to talk to him at your house? Do you know what I am going to say to him?”

“Helen from the diner called. She overheard Reeding and Post talking behind the Nugget, too.”

“Too?”

He nodded, suddenly appearing all business. “The truck that passed you before I pulled you over was Morgan Reeding, the foreman over at Trinity Ranch. He pulled out of the Nugget parking lot after you accelerated on the highway and followed you. If Helen knew you overheard Reeding and Post talking, they might have spotted you as well.”

“Their returning to the ranch isn’t proof they knew I was there.

“Could have been,” Trent said slowly. “Fortunately, we don’t have to find out.”

“Call Jim,” she pressed. She still worried Burrows was in danger. “This is urgent, Trent. If she told you what they said accurately, then you should know that.”

“Turn around. I’ll follow you back and call him while I’m driving.”

“Are U-turns legal here?”

Something glistened in his eyes. “I’ll cuff you later,” he growled.

“Only if I can cuff you, too,” she said in as sweet of a tone as she could master.

Trent hung up the phone after talking to Ethel. Jim was out on the north end of the ranch, dealing with bulls’ breaking down the fences.

“Apparently, Trinity Ranch females are just too irresistible to resist,” she’d purred into Trent’s ear.

Trent grunted, not really caring if he offended her. Ethel was something else, and seeing how Jim Burrows babied her was enough to make Trent want to puke. He told her to have Jim get ahold of him, then hung up. Natasha parked at his house and he intentionally blocked her in.

“What did he say? Is he on his way?” she asked when Trent got out of his Suburban.

She had her coat tightly wrapped around her and her hands stuffed deep in her pockets. Natasha hadn’t seemed to notice the cold when they’d been standing out alongside the highway, which he would feel safe to say was at least five to ten degrees colder than it was right here with his house and surrounding evergreens blocking the wind.

“I didn’t reach him,” he admitted, holding his phone in his hand as he pushed his door closed with his body. “Apparently, he’s got bulls breaking down the fence again.”

“Do you think he’s safe out there?”

Trent almost laughed. Natasha looked really worried. Heading toward her and the porch steps, he placed his hand on her back and guided her to the house.

“Burrows is a lot safer out on his land than he would be if he were up closer to the ranch house. It’s open land out there, impossible to sneak up on a man. Not to mention, Burrows is always armed, hand gun on his side and shot gun in his truck.” He added, mostly for Natasha’s benefit, “Burrows might be an even better shot than me.”

He saw her smile, but Natasha was clever enough to wrap her mind around a potential trap. She’d overheard a hell of a lot of disturbing information, if Helen had told it all to him accurately.

“Why don’t you tell me exactly what you heard Reeding and Post say to each other?” He fished out his house key and unlocked the front door.

Natasha looked up at him when he pushed the door open and stood to the side for her to enter. “I thought you said Helen, the waitress, told you what they said.”

“She did.” He saw the skepticism on Natasha’s face and wondered if she trusted anyone in her world. Since he’d spoken from the heart out on the side of the highway, mentioning love, something he was still baffled as hell that he’d managed to spit out, he’d take the initiative in showing her what all it entailed. “And Helen is a pretty observant person. She’s given me tips before on crimes by overhearing customers talk.”

“Sounds like an incredible resource,” Natasha said dryly.

Trent walked around her, sliding out of his coat and tossing it on the chair by his front door. “She is. But it wouldn’t hurt to hear you share what you heard. Hopefully both stories will match.”

She nodded. “You’re right. I’d ask for the same thing,” she admitted, slipped out of her coat, and tossed it on top of his before he could take it from her and hang it up. Natasha tugged on her sweater.

Goddamn. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Damn good thing he didn’t know that out on the highway. Especially since a couple of Post’s ranch hands had driven by and honked. Trent had never run his hands under her coat. If he had and discovered she was braless, he would have had a hard time stopping. As it was now, part of him didn’t want to talk shop; he wanted to fuck her until the two of them had forgotten about the rest of the world.

Trent did an about-face and headed to his kitchen, needing a clear head. “I need coffee. Want some?”

“Sure.” She followed him into the kitchen and made herself at home at the table, picking at the newspaper before telling him what she heard. “I’d planned on getting a bite to eat at the Nugget earlier, and had my hand on the door, when I heard them talking. I heard a man say he never would have thought Ethel was smart enough to pull off such a heist right under her husband’s nose.”

“They were talking about the things she stole out of Nellie’s grave.”

Natasha looked up at him, shocked. “How do you know that?”

“Your father knew a lot more than he told you.” Trent scooped fresh coffee into the coffee maker, just the smell of it helping to clear his head.

“And you just happened to know that when you decided to haul him in like a common criminal?” The sarcasm in her voice wasn’t missed.

Trent had expected getting his ass chewed for bringing in George, although he didn’t regret it for a moment. “Tell me what you heard at the Nugget,” he pushed, veering her back to what she overheard at the diner.

Natasha made a humphing sound and Trent was glad he had his back to her. After pouring the water in the coffeemaker, he watched it percolate for a minute as Natasha told him what she’d overheard. The grin she’d put on his face over her feisty nature faded as he listened.