The Specialist. Dani Sinclair
so do check your messages, Rafe.”
Jake stretched. “The joys of bachelorhood. Personally, I’m glad all I have to deal with nowadays are ornery cows, bad weather, construction crews, a wife and daughter.”
Brady shared a smile with him. “Their day will come.”
“Not a chance,” Rafe and Cody both vowed.
“NO!” RAFE MOVED alongside Kendra, trying to ignore the tug of awareness he continued to feel every time he touched her. He positioned his hand along her arm to straighten her stance and her wide eyes blinked up at him from behind her big ugly glasses covered by safety goggles.
Rafe shook off the distracting thought that she had very pretty eyes under all that glass. For one beat of his heart, he thought he glimpsed a recognizable spark of feminine interest before Kendra lowered her lashes and he stepped back from her.
“Remember to squeeze the trigger,” he told her. “The object isn’t how fast you can pull it, but how accurately you can put a bullet in someone.”
“I’m not planning to put a bullet in anyone. You want to do this?” Kendra demanded, stepping away from him and tugging off the safety glasses.
“I already know how to do this,” Rafe told her. To prove it, he took the gun from her hand and finished the round, firing carefully into the target. He knew he was showing off a bit, but her disdain bothered him.
Rafe wished he could stand further away from the utterly distracting scent and feel of Kendra Kincade. No matter that he kept his frequent touches impersonal, he continued to find himself aware of her as a woman.
Kendra wasn’t particularly attractive and she definitely wasn’t his type. She had the sassiest mouth he’d ever seen on a woman. Still, there was something appealing about her. Something that got under a man’s skin.
He’d thought the gun range would be less distracting than teaching her basic self-defense tricks that might require a lot of touching, but he’d been wrong. She had an uncanny way of reducing the great outdoors to closer quarters than the basement. If only he could stop noticing how good she smelled. The light, subtle scent wasn’t a perfume, yet it continually snuck up on him, reminding him that she was a woman.
Rafe set the weapon on the shelf.
Kendra raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t hit the head even once,” she pointed out.
Stung, he glanced at the target. “I wasn’t aiming for the head.” Every one of his shots was within inches of where he’d wanted them. “And neither should you. The chest is a bigger target. Remember, if you shoot at someone, you’re trying to stop them from coming at you. You’re not a marks-man aiming for the kill.”
Something flickered in her eyes. She quickly looked away. Before he could wonder about that look, the far-off rumble of thunder sent both their gazes skywards. Despite the sun directly over their heads, the sky was darkening quickly in the distance as rain swept in over the mountains.
“Maybe Abby and Jake should be building an ark instead of adding on to their cabin,” she said.
“Good point. I think I’ll suggest it. Let’s break and clean up for lunch. We can work out inside after we eat.”
Kendra groaned.
“Are you stiff?” She’d landed pretty hard a couple of times yesterday, but she never complained. As promised, she was a quick study. She already had a good grasp on quick releases and easy throws.
“Not at all. I’m sure my bones creaked like this before I got here.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“Uh-huh.” She watched him gather up the equipment. “What’s the real reason behind all this training, Rafe? You don’t really expect me to use any of this, do you?”
Before he could respond, his beeper went off. Rafe checked it and thrust the pile of equipment into her startled hands. “I’ve got a phone call. Can you bring this stuff?”
He was gone without waiting for an answer. Kendra watched him sprint for the house and tried to banish the thought that the man really did know how to fill out a pair of jeans. Her hormones had picked a rotten time to remind her that she was a woman and Rafe was an incredibly handsome man. He would never look twice at someone like her. And she didn’t want him to.
Did she?
Penny met her at the back door and took the equipment off her hands. “He’s on the phone with Rialto,” she announced.
Excitement surged through Kendra. Finally, after all this time, her plan was going to happen.
“I have a meeting with Rialto tomorrow morning,” Rafe announced, when he rejoined them in the kitchen. The long table was set with three places and Rosa bustled about the stove, humming to herself.
“I’m surprised he waited so long to do the interviews,” Kendra said nervously.
“He probably needed time to run checks on all the candidates,” Penny said. “Don’t worry, Rafe’s background will hold up.”
“Are the interviews at Rialto’s office?” Kendra asked.
Rafe nodded.
Rosa set plates of food in front of each of them, but Kendra barely glanced down. Rosa would scold her again in broken English, but excitement had stolen any appetite Kendra might have had. Everything was finally coming together after all this time.
“You should know about the painting,” Kendra told Rafe.
He paused in the act of lifting his fork. “What painting?”
“Rialto has a large abstract on the wall behind his desk. It’s supposed to be a Sylvian original.”
His brow pleated as Rafe looked the question at her while he chewed and swallowed.
“Rialto was briefly interested in the art scene a year or so ago. Either he wanted some legal investments or he was looking for a criminal angle,” Kendra explained.
“How come we never heard about this?” Rafe asked Penny.
“Because I’m not a computer guru?” she suggested mock sweetly.
“It wasn’t common knowledge,” Kendra assured them. “Rialto got conned by a dealer who sold him a couple of genuine pieces before this fake Sylvian. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to learn that the dealer vanished after duping Rialto. There was a lot of blood left behind, but no body or a weapon.”
Penny pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Rialto kept the painting?”
“I think it’s to remind him not to get taken again. Plus, I’m pretty sure he installed a miniature camera in the picture or its frame to keep an eye on his desk.”
Rafe stared at her. “How do you know all this?”
“I told you, I’ve made a study of him. The Dallas newspaper recently ran an article on him in the business section. He was pictured at his desk with the painting directly behind him.” She squirmed a little under Rafe’s scrutiny. “He also paid for the painting, and subsequently the camera, through his checking account. I could be wrong about the camera of course, but given what I know about him—”
“How do you know about his checking account?” Penny interrupted.
“I’ve, uh, seen his bank statements.”
Rafe abruptly pushed aside his own plate. “You accessed his personal account at the bank? I thought that was impossible for an outside hacker to do.”
“It is, but I did some consulting work for his bank a few months ago.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “Look, the point is, if you notice the painting and tell him what an excellent reproduction it is, you’re bound to impress him.”
Rafe shook his head. “If I do that, he’ll figure I know