Branded by a Callahan. Tina Leonard
angel.”
She closed the bathroom door with a bit of force. “The apple didn’t fall far from his brother apples,” she muttered, stripping down.
A knock on the door made her jerk a towel to cover herself. “Yes?”
“Just wondering if I should scope out the bathroom for you this time.”
She glanced around the tiny bath. “Think I’ve got it under control.”
“Good to hear. If you don’t mind, if you won’t be nervous being left, I think I’m going to go scare us up some food.”
Why had he mentioned her being afraid? She was a bodyguard, her job was to protect, and technically, she was protecting Callahans, under which labeling he could be claimed. But he seemed to think she was just a girl, an ornament, and probably figured her main worth was cooking and cleaning.
He’d be really surprised when he learned that she couldn’t cook and didn’t clean a bit. She was a girl who worked, and she hadn’t gone to bodyguard training to jump when a big lug like him snapped his chauvinistic fingers at her.
“I’m fine,” she said, somewhat curious that he hadn’t bothered to slip into the shower with her with some dumb excuse about conserving water for the diligent, quilting Mrs. Adams.
“Be right back.”
There was silence after that. Ana enjoyed a long hot shower, and even considered taking a bath and soaking her feet. After several hours of walking, through some terrain one couldn’t exactly call smooth because Dante was determined that they stay hidden from main roads where they might be seen—her feet weren’t exactly thrilled with the treatment they’d endured.
They’d be home soon enough. She’d go for a manicure and pedicure with River, indulge in some girly maintenance, the kind meant to lure her cowboy into bed since he didn’t seem all that inclined to get there real fast on his own.
Maybe he was more worried about the baby-making scheme than he’d let on.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Ana?”
“Yes?” She hesitated, wondering if he wanted—finally!—in the shower with her.
“Just letting you know I’m back.”
Ana thought about proffering a sexy invitation, decided if he was interested he would have figured out a way to share the shower with her. “Thanks.”
He opened the door a sliver. Laid something on the counter. She peeked around the cloth shower curtain at the pile of clothes he’d placed there. “What’s that?”
“A dress Mrs. Adams thinks will fit you, and some girl stuff she’d just picked up for her daughter. She says the dress is her daughter’s, and should be a close fit. If you hurry and send her your clothes, she’ll wash them for you. For us,” he amended. “She seemed concerned that we’d been walking and didn’t have what she called the basics of life.”
He was thinking of basics and she was thinking about his body. “Thank you, Dante.”
“No problem. Mrs. Adams is really nice. She sent us a tray of salad and cold chicken. You hungry?”
For him, yes. “I could stand to eat.” She shut off the water, got out, toweled off. Glancing over the clothes, she wasn’t crazy about the idea of a dress, but she held it up to her. Actually, the dress wasn’t bad. It was a soft cotton with short sleeves, not stylish, but a cute turquoise blue. Comfy for traveling. Wouldn’t look entirely horrible with the moccasins Dante had bought her. “Mrs. Adams’s daughter must be young?”
“About your age,” Dante said cheerfully. “Mrs. Adams said that if you ever decide to kick me to the curb, I’m to come back and let her introduce me to her daughter, Suz. Apparently, Suz is a helluva cook.”
“That’s just nice,” Ana muttered, slipping on the dress. She rinsed out her under things and laid them out to dry. “I’m taking a shower thinking about you, you ape, and you’re out trolling for girls.”
“Did you say something, cupcake?” he asked through the door.
“No, stud muffin,” she replied, ever so sweetly.
He cracked open the door, looked in at her with a big grin. “I thought I heard you say something about a stud muffin. I think that’s girl talk for hot, sexy guy, and the only one of those around is me.”
“Really.” She had no idea how to puncture his oversized ego. “Zip me, please?”
“Glad to help.” He reached to zip the dress, came to a complete halt.
“Something wrong?” she asked, her voice concerned and innocent—but since her panties were drying on the counter and the zipper just crested the top of her bare fanny, she had a pretty good idea what had him stuck.
“Uh...no. Nothing at all.”
She watched him surreptitiously in the bathroom mirror. He swallowed, then suddenly reached out, zipped her up fast. Jumped out of the bathroom as though he was attached to a rocket. Clapped his Stetson on his head.
“You ready to eat?” Dante asked.
“Sure am,” she said cheerily, knowing he’d have to try to eat dinner with her wearing nothing under a soft, pretty dress. She smiled, and he looked cornered, and Ana almost took pity on him.
But, no. If he wanted to play reluctant prince, she could play unattainable princess. Naked-under-this-blue-dress princess. She walked past him, enjoyed his hangdog face of absolute suffering. “Are you all right, Dante?”
“I’m fine. Thanks. At least I think so.”
He looked stricken. Cast a fast glance over her body, tried to act as if he wasn’t thinking about what he’d just seen. Ana held her breath, enjoying ruffling that famous Callahan ego just a bit.
Maybe tonight this cowboy would overcome his resistance and fall into her arms.
Chapter Four
Ana was going to kill him. Plain and simple, and hardly lifting a finger to do it, Ana St. John was going to give Dante cardiac arrest at the ripe old age of nearly twenty-eight.
Either she was deliberately trying to seduce him, or he just couldn’t think about anything but sex around her. Yet it wasn’t just sex, though he wished it was. He was crazy about this woman, had been for months.
She talked about wanting his child, but he knew she just had baby overload. Ana had spent too much time around Sloan and Kendall’s adorable twins, and naturally—quite naturally, in his opinion—she had decided that a baby was what she wanted, too. A child of her own.
The thing was, she’d settled on him—and granted, he was stocked full of testosterone-charged, baby-making potential—but he really wasn’t in a position to simply scatter his seed to the wind and then have his little baby mama disappear.
No. He needed some commitment, a relationship, yes, a marriage, before any of his swimmers could be set free to do their wondrous thing. Yet he was not a marrying man...at least, he’d never thought much about it. Hadn’t thought about it at all. Ever. Dante sat in the back of Ash’s truck, and Ana sat up front, chatting away with his sister, who’d come to their rescue after he’d finally surrendered and realized he had to call for backup.
He’d had no other option, though he believed it would be safer for his family if he and Ana stayed undercover for a while longer. But he could not spend a night in a bed with Ana and not fall into hot, sweet temptation. He was only so much man where she was concerned, and he had to draw a line between him and her that he wouldn’t cross.
“Don’t you think, Dante?”
His sister’s voice jerked him from studying the slope of Ana’s shoulder as she sat in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of