The Millionaire Cowboy's Secret (13 page)

After each step, she paused, carefully counting, and shone her little light around her. When she’d finally reached the bottom, stepping cautiously, she illuminated the entire small concrete room.

Except for stacks of rotted lumber and piles of old rocks, it was completely empty.

She nearly laughed out loud. Of course it was. Had she really thought Matt and José would direct everyone to the ammo’s true hiding place?

Breathing deeply, she turned to begin her ascent.

And heard the thud of the door closing above her.

Heart pounding, she told herself not to panic. It might have been the wind. After all, no one else was out here and Talia hadn’t barked.

Nevertheless, she hustled up the steps in the pitch-black darkness, her small beam of light leading the way.

When she reached the heavy wooden door, she pushed, using her shoulders and every bit of strength she could muster.

The door didn’t budge.

Don’t panic, don’t panic,
she chanted over and over to herself. “Talia,” she called, knowing her dog wouldn’t have broken the stay. She gave the only command she could. “Come. Talia, come.”

A happy bark from the other side of the thick wood told her Talia had obeyed.

Now came the tricky part.

“Go find help,” Skylar said in desperation. Then, realizing her pet would have no idea what that mean, she reconsidered. “Talia, bring ball. Go bring ball.”

The border collie barked once, then, hopefully, took off. Her ball was inside the camper, so Skylar assumed she would sit outside the trailer and bark until someone came along.

Then Skylar had to pray whoever saw Talia would realize something was wrong and come looking for her.

Meanwhile, she was trapped in this dark and exceedingly confined space. With spiders and who knew what else.

She shuddered, then sternly ordered herself not to think about that.

Sitting down on the bottom step, she turned off her penlight to save the batteries, closed her eyes and began doing the deep-breathing exercises she’d learned in a yoga class. Hopefully, someone would come to let her out. The sooner, the better.

Each time terror threatened to overwhelm her, she somehow managed to talk herself out of it. When she began feeling as though she were suffocating, she tried to find calm.

But the dark! The idea that no one might ever find her, that there were spiders and rats and other things that came out at night...

She felt herself losing it. Launching her body at the door, she tried to claw her way out, cursing and screaming and crying.

Of course, she couldn’t.

Heart pounding so hard it felt as if it would leap from her chest, she gasped for air. Would that run out, too?

Hyperventilating, she tried again to attack the door, but as she pushed to her feet, everything went blurry. She fell, barely conscious as her head slammed into the concrete step.

* * *

The Cattle Ranchers Association meeting took longer than expected. Driving back to the ranch, Matt found himself consumed with thoughts of Skylar. As he entertained himself with carnal fantasies, his stomach rumbled. Reaching into the picnic hamper, he discovered chicken along with carefully packed containers full of potato salad, deviled eggs and biscuits.

Too bad he and Skylar hadn’t taken the time to have their picnic. They could have feasted on each other for dessert. His entire body went warm at the thought.

When he pulled back into the driveway, Skylar’s dog came barreling out to greet him.

“Hey, Talia.” He reached down to pet her, but the border collie seemed agitated. Matt felt the first prickling of alarm.

Pushing it aside, he grabbed the meal and headed toward her camper. Talia ran circles around him, barking, barking, barking.

“Where’s Skylar?” he asked, his unease growing. When a quick inspection revealed she wasn’t in the trailer, Talia barked again, running off toward the field and then returning, giving him a bark to make it clear she wanted him to follow her.

Placing the remains of his lunch on the camper table, he climbed back outside. “Show me, girl,” he urged.

This time, when the dog took off running, Matt was right on her heels.

They crossed two pastures. Talia had to circle and come back for him several times, as he couldn’t keep up with her. When the ruins of the old homestead came into view, he realized where Skylar had gone.

The border collie barked once more, dashing into the rubble and standing before the cement that led to the cellar.

The heavy wooden door was closed.

Talia barked again.

“Skylar?” Matt called, gripping the weathered metal handle and pulling. The damn thing wouldn’t budge.

He called her name again. She still didn’t answer.

“Maybe she’s not in here, girl,” he told Talia. He gave the door another try, but couldn’t get it to move.

Cursing, he began looking around for something he could use as a makeshift crowbar.

Unfortunately, the half-burned two-by-four wouldn’t cut it. That didn’t stop him from trying it anyway. The rotted piece of lumber came apart in his hands.

Talia barked. “Sorry, girl,” he told her. He’d have to head to back to the ranch to find an actual crowbar.

He took off running, wishing he had a horse. The dog chased after him, barking and trying to herd him back toward the ruins. She nipped at his ankles, nearly tripping him. As he stumbled, he saw the piece of metal pipe on the ground, glinting in the sunlight.

“What the...” Hefting it, he shoved aside any questions about what it was doing in his field and tore back toward the stubborn door.

The pipe worked perfectly, and after only three attempts, he was able to wedge the door open.

Talia watched him, appropriately solemn. The instant he had the door open, the dog dashed past him down the steps, barking.

Pushing the heavy thing back so far it splintered, Matt rushed after Talia, hoping against hope that Skylar was all right.

He had no flashlight, and despite the tiny bit of light that leaked from above, the darkness felt absolute. When he nearly tripped on something, he thought at first it was the dog. But when he reached down, he realized Skylar was lying on the concrete floor.

Somehow, he got his arms under her and managed to lift her. Staggering, he made his way slowly up the steps, blinking as he emerged into the afternoon light.

Skylar. Once they’d cleared the cellar, he carried her outside and placed her gently on the grass. A small trickle of blood showed she must have hit her head—close to the temple, but hopefully not near enough to do any serious damage.

But then why was she still unconscious?

“Skylar...” Brushing the hair away from her face, he checked for a pulse. Her heart beat steady and strong.

Talia barked, urgently this time. Skylar’s eyes fluttered open. “Tali?” she whispered. Then, as her memory apparently came flooding back to her, she gasped and tried to climb to her feet.

“Easy, easy,” Matt said. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

She gasped, inhaling as though she feared she’d run out of air. “I thought I was going to be trapped in there forever. I didn’t want to die like that.”

He gave her a gentle smile. “You can thank your dog for coming to find me. I’d just pulled into the driveway and she came running.”

“Oh, Tali!” Wrapping her arms around her pet, Skylar laughed as Talia licked her face, tail wagging furiously. “Such a good girl you are. What a good girl.”

When Skylar had finished cuddling her dog, she struggled to get up. Matt put his arm around her and helped her.

“Maybe we should run you into town and get your head looked at,” he said.

“No.” She started to shake her head and then winced instead. “I’m fine. I think.”

“You might have a concussion. I really think...”

“No.” She cut him off emphatically. When she went to move forward, it quickly became apparent she was still a bit shaky on her feet.

“Let me help you. It’s a good walk back to the ranch.”

Facing straight ahead, she didn’t look at him. “Thanks.”

Noting the twin spots of color high on her cheekbones, he wondered if he ought to override her protests and force her to get checked out at the medical clinic.

Envisioning the struggle that would be, he decided to simply keep an eye on her for now. Talia also, he noted, appeared to be watching her carefully. Even though the dog ran circles around them, she kept coming back and trotting at Skylar’s side, her canine gaze intent on her mistress.

As they slowly and painstakingly made their way home, Skylar’s strength seemed to gradually increase. Eventually he was able to remove his arm from around her waist, allowing her to walk on her own.

“Do you mind telling me what happened in there?” he asked.

She swallowed hard. When she spoke again, her voice had gone flat. “I panicked,” she said. “I’ve always been claustrophobic, but I really thought I’d overcome that fear. I found out otherwise.”

Stopping, she lifted her hands, letting him see her raw, bloody fingers and broken nails. “I tried to claw my way out of there,” she admitted, her voice still shaky. “It was a pretty bad panic attack.” Swallowing, she continued, “In the middle of all of that, I slipped and hit my head.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t speak. He didn’t have too many fears himself, not these days anyway. For a while after he’d returned from Iraq, he’d had PTSD and jumped at every sound. He’d taught himself to overcome it, but in the process he’d closed himself off from people, focusing on his animals instead.

Silently commiserating, he took her hand in his and held it all the way back to her trailer.

Chapter 12

S
kylar’s throat closed up at the kind gesture, and to her horror she realized she had tears in her eyes. Matt had no idea how much it meant to her, the simple act of holding her hand. Offering comfort rather than wanting to discuss—and cure or mock—her irrational, all-consuming fear.

The most horrible part of it wasn’t that she couldn’t seem to stop shaking. No, the worst part was how much she despised herself for her weakness.

After losing her family, she’d vowed always to be strong, no matter what she faced. Thus far, she believed she’d succeeded. Until today. All alone in the cramped, dark space, she’d given way to her fears and nearly lost her mind.

This was the very first time she’d failed so horribly. And even worse, she’d done so in front of someone else. Someone who was a potential criminal and whom she’d been sent undercover to investigate.

Once they reached the camper, Matt opened the door for her and kept his hand at the small of her back as she climbed the steps.

Spying the picnic hamper on the table, she turned to Matt. “Did you...”

His smile seemed tentative. “Yes. I ate a few bites of chicken on the way back from town. There’s plenty left. I thought you might still want to go on a picnic. Of course, I had no way of knowing...”

As his words trailed off, again her eyes filled with tears. What the hell was wrong with her? She was never a weepy sort of person.

Angling slightly away from him, she swiped at her eyes.

Then, hoping he hadn’t noticed, she lifted her head. “Let me get cleaned up, okay?”

Without waiting to hear his response, she stepped into the tiny bathroom. Scrubbing the dirt from under her nails—even this reminded her of her missing son—she cleaned her face, grimacing as she rinsed away the blood. She’d have a bruise there later.

When she emerged, still avoiding his gaze, she rummaged in one of the cabinets and found paper plates. Putting two down by the hamper, she slid onto the bench seat on one side of the table, indicating he should take the other.

“Any other time, I’d have loved a picnic.” She smiled, albeit a bit wobbly. “But for today, let’s eat here.”

He didn’t move. “You want me to stay?”

Surprised, she cocked her head. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? Look at all this chicken! Plus, there’s potato salad and deviled eggs that you haven’t even touched.”

He shrugged, then took the seat across from her. “It’s just, after the time you had, I didn’t know if you wanted to be alone.”

His words gave her pause—after all, any other time, in such a situation, she
would
have wanted to be alone. But he... “You’re different,” she admitted, refusing to feel embarrassed. “Plus—” this time her smile was genuine “—you saved me.”

He looked at her. She looked back. As their gazes locked, everything else—the food, her fears, her self-loathing—faded away.

“Eat,” he said, breaking the spell.

Talia whined, making Skylar laugh. “She knows that word and it’s past her dinnertime. Let me feed her real quick.”

Busying herself pouring kibble into a bowl, Skylar felt anticipation buzzing through her, tingling in her blood, under her skin. Something had changed between her and Matt, though she would readily admit the transformation might be a bit one-sided.

She trusted him. While she’d been attracted to him from the moment she’d met him, she’d held a part of herself in reserve, afraid to allow herself to believe he wasn’t a criminal.

Now...that doubt had vanished as if it had never existed.

Returning to the table, she wouldn’t look at him, as if he could somehow see the truth in her eyes. Instead, she set out the chicken, potato salad, deviled eggs, beans and biscuits. He’d gotten them each a bottled iced tea, and she put straws in each drink.

“Quite a feast,” she said brightly. “I’m starving. How about you?”

“Hey.” The quiet rumbling of his voice again brought the stupid pricking of tears to her eyes.

Slowly, she raised her face to look at him, blinking furiously to push them away.

As soon as he saw her face, he pushed to his feet. “Come here.” He held out his arms. “You need a hug.”

Moving as if she were in a trance, chicken all but forgotten, she stood. On wobbly legs, she went to him and let him envelope her in his embrace.

“Shh,” he murmured, one hand smoothing her hair. “You seem like you’re about to shatter. Maybe you really should be alone.”

“No.” Alarmed, she clutched him. “Don’t go. Please. I don’t want to be by myself right now.”

Hearing her own words, she closed her eyes. “You have no idea how much it cost me to say that,” she said. But still she did not release her hold on him.

“You’d be surprised,” he told her. “Because I don’t want to leave you, either.”

She opened her mouth, but she had no response.

He kissed her then, covering her mouth with his softly, gentle when she craved rough. Making a sound of frustration, she kissed him with a hunger that was more than physical, though she demanded a physical response.

When he lifted his lips from hers and shook his head, she was stunned—and secretly, since she was all about admitting the truth to herself lately, hurt.

“Not now,” he told her, putting his hands on her shoulders and gently turning her back toward the table. “Sit down and eat something. You’ve had a big shock. You need to get some nourishment in you.”

Resisting the urge to pout—who
was
this person she seemed to be turning into?—she did as he asked, sullenly taking the largest, crispiest chicken breast and a leg, her favorite. She grabbed a heaping spoonful of potato salad and two deviled eggs.

The instant she bit into the now-cold chicken and flavor exploded in her mouth, she knew he was right. Chewing and swallowing, she resisted the urge to take another huge bite before giving him a muffled thank-you.

He nodded and they both dug in.

After they’d eaten until they were full, Skylar wiped her greasy fingers on a napkin and took a long drink of her iced tea.

“I needed that,” she said, sighing. “It was really good.”

“I did, too,” he admitted, one corner of his mouth lifting in the beginning of a smile. “Do you feel better now?”

Suddenly shy, she nodded. When he didn’t respond, she let her gaze roam over his features. She felt breathless, like a young girl again, dizzy just from being in the same room as him.

Still he made no move toward her. She wondered how to prove to him she wasn’t so delicate.

“Any news?” he asked.

For a moment she didn’t understand what he meant. Her quick frown must have telegraphed this to him, so he elaborated.

“Has anyone contacted you since you made your report?”

Bam. Just like that, she came crashing back to earth. Should she tell him what she’d learned about José?

“I can see someone has,” he said, leaning across the table and watching her intently. “What’s going on?”

Though she hated to ruin his evening—
their
evening—she told him about the twenty-five thousand-dollar deposit into José Nivas’s account. She couldn’t yet bring herself to speak about stumbling across José and Matt’s former girlfriend having sex in the barn office. If she did, she’d have to explain what she was doing there in the first place.

“Twenty-five thousand dollars?” Matt looked simply thoughtful rather than flabbergasted as she’d expected.

“Did he mention that to you?” she asked, although she knew he hadn’t.

“No, but he doesn’t tell me everything.” Drumming his fingers on the table, he stared out the window. “Maybe he got a loan for something.”

“The ATF found no evidence of that.”

When he looked at her, his blue eyes seemed darker. “Why are your people investigating him anyway?”

“You know why.”

He sighed. “He did his time. He’s reformed. You can’t hold that against him.”

“We don’t,” she shot back. “Especially if he’s innocent. But he has ties to the Mexican cartels, even now. And even I’m not entirely sure what his role is in this thing you’re trying to set up.”

“He has nothing to do with it.” His denials seemed to come a little too quickly. Still, she let it go.

“Are you going to ask him about it?”

He grimaced. “Probably. Yes. He’s gone home for the night, but he’ll be here in the morning. I’ll speak to him then.”

Standing, she began to bag the bones up for the trash. “I’ll have to take these out so Talia doesn’t get into them.”

“I can take them with me,” he said.

Disappointed, she nodded. Was he leaving, then? She’d hoped for a bit of body-to-body comforting.

As she tied up the trash bag, he came up behind her and took it from her. Placing it on the stove, he turned her around to face him. “How are you feeling?”

Instead of answering, she reached up and pulled him down to her, pressing her lips to his and kissing him with reckless abandon.

He responded in kind, his tongue sending a jolt of desire to her lower body. Demanding more, she caressed him, thrilling at his muscular chest, loving the leashed strength she knew lay behind his gentle touches.

Curling into him like a cat in heat, she moaned as he slipped his hand inside her T-shirt, cupping her breast.

Somehow they made it to the bed and shed their clothes. She writhed beneath him, desperate to take him inside of her.

“Slowly,” he told her as he let his fingers work magic over her breasts, slipping down her belly to touch her there, where she was already moist and so damn ready she thought she might scream.

As he continued his torturous exploration with his mouth, she felt as if she were part fire and part ice. And damn him, he was enjoying this, too, if his huge arousal was any indication.

When he finally slipped inside her, she gasped in sweet agony, her body clenching in a spasm of pleasure.

And then he began to move and all rational thought left her. They danced together, naked bodies slick with perspiration, coming together and apart in perfect harmony.

As she reached the pinnacle and began shattering into a million tiny stars, she cried out, calling his name over and over.

A moment later, he joined her, his head back, eyes closed, so damn beautiful she wanted to weep.

After, as their breathing slowed, he continued to hold her. Neither spoke—she knew there was no way in hell she could reveal her feelings to him. Especially since realizing how she truly felt was absolutely terrifying to her. Never mind that it would freak him out.

“Do you want to spend the night here?” she asked, wincing as she heard herself say the words.

“Not tonight.” Kissing her forehead, he moved away, standing up and looking on the floor for his clothes.

From underneath the sheet, she watched him get dressed, refusing to let go of the drowsy warmth of satisfaction that had spread through her.

“Do you want me to let Talia out?” he asked once he was fully clothed.

She nodded, absurdly grateful she didn’t have to leave her cozy cocoon.

Once he’d taken care of her dog, he grabbed the trash bag of chicken bones and crossed over to kiss her mouth softly.

“See you in the morning,” he said.

And then he was gone.

Out of habit, she got up and locked the door behind him before climbing back into bed.

Not wanting to analyze or even think about what had just happened, she turned on her side and tried to will herself to sleep.

* * *

Vulnerable. Matt walked to his barn, breathing in the familiar scents of hay and horses, and tried to clear his head. Skylar had been vulnerable. Not usually a word that he’d use to describe her, but he’d seen a side of her that he’d never have imagined.

For the first time since he’d met her, she’d asked for something from him without an ulterior motive. She’d needed comfort, which he’d readily given. And then the heat they always seemed to generate between them had blazed to life, offering them both a welcome distraction. Recreational sex.

He swallowed hard, his chest tight. Maybe for her that had been what it was. Not for him. For him, it had become something more.

Returning home, Matt turned on the TV and watched several old movies in succession, paying very little attention to the plot or the dialogue. He drank a few beers, roamed his large, empty house and deliberately stayed up late, hoping when he finally did go to bed he’d fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Instead, he tossed and turned. His thoughts alternated between his newfound—and unwanted—feelings for Skylar and his worries over what José had gotten himself into.

He got up an hour before his usual rising time of 5:00 a.m., feeling tired and out of sorts. After showering, he made a pot of strong coffee and carried a mugful out to the back porch. Watching the sun rise, which was usually his way to meditate about the coming day, failed to inspire him. Soon he found himself downing his third cup of coffee, pacing and checking his watch for the twentieth time.

When seven o’clock rolled around, he gave up and went inside. José was late. Since his friend was always on time, Matt called José’s cell. No answer. In fact, the call went straight to voice mail. Matt didn’t leave a message. He figured whatever José was doing it must be important if he’d turned his phone off.

José would turn up eventually. He always did.

But as morning turned into afternoon, lunchtime came and went, and the sun began to hang lower in the sky, Matt’s gut began to hurt. Soon it would be evening and he still had no word from his friend. Matt couldn’t help but worry. He knew he should have driven to town to look for him, but he kept remembering what Skylar had told him about the large amount of money recently deposited into José’s bank account. While he trusted his buddy with his life, he hated having to ask such a thing. Worse, he couldn’t even imagine what kind of answer José would give.

He’d seen Skylar from a distance, and though he didn’t consciously avoid her, he kept himself busy enough that they didn’t cross paths all day.

Though now, with all the chores finished and still no sign of his friend, he knew eventually he’d have to seek her out.

Instead, she came to him.