The Millionaire Cowboy's Secret. Karen Whiddon
He’s not answering and he hasn’t returned any of my calls. I’m worried about him.”
With good reason. Anyone brave or foolish enough to go up against the largest of the Mexican drug cartels knew they were putting their life in danger. If they were caught, they would be lucky if they were merely killed. The usual modus operandi was brutal torture and a slow, agonizing death.
“Keep trying.” Matt squeezed José’s shoulder. “Maybe he’s just busy.”
“Maybe.” But José didn’t sound convinced. “He’s the one who’s been carrying messages back and forth between us and Diego Rodriguez.”
Matt swore. “If he’s been caught, we’ll have to start all over.”
“True.” Looking glum, José turned away. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find out something.”
“Please do that.”
After José left, Matt continued staring down at the little camper trailer where he’d put Skylar. The approaching sunset bathed the sky in a rosy-orange glow.
A moment later, the door opened and the black-and-white dog bounded out, nearly pulling Skylar after.
He noted she’d changed not only her high-heeled shoes, but she’d exchanged the dress for a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt. Even from this distance, she still looked hauntingly lovely. Every nerve ending in his body came alive as he watched her.
Weird. While he wasn’t sure why he reacted so strongly to her, the fact that he did intrigued him enough to make him want to explore the connection more deeply.
In the pasture, Skylar raised her arm and threw a red ball. Her dog joyously bounded after it, returning a moment later to drop it at Skylar’s feet.
Matt grinned. There was nothing on earth like the happiness of a dog with one of its favorite toys. And when Skylar laughed, the musical sound carrying on the light breeze, he realized her uncomplicated joy equaled that of her pet’s.
Taking another drink of wine, he debated joining her. He liked dogs, and even though he hadn’t allowed himself another one since his beloved Rottweiler was killed in the massacre, he wasn’t averse to spending time with hers.
He frowned. Usually he wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself. He’d enjoy the dog, true. But it was the woman who fascinated him. It wasn’t her beauty’hell, ever since he’d won the lottery and become a multimillionaire, he had his pick of gorgeous women.
Maybe, he mused, it could very well be the challenge of getting past her defenses that drew him to her. Either way, it had been a long time since he’d been attracted to any woman for any reason other than the occasional consensual sexual encounter.
Before he had time to reconsider, he moved across the patio and headed down the sloping lawn toward her.
The dog’Talia, he remembered’saw him first and came bounding across the grass to greet him. With one joyous bark and a series of acrobatic spins, the black-and-white fur ball launched into an elaborate greeting. He could swear the border collie wore a silly canine grin the entire time.
Skylar not so much. Expression wary, she eyed him with the same enthusiasm one might give a rattlesnake coiled in the grass. Her earlier carefree expression had been replaced by guarded curiosity.
Though he felt a twinge of remorse, he pretended not to notice.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, aware she most probably did.
“No problem,” she replied, her smooth voice and pleasant expression giving away the lie, though he doubted she realized how transparent she was.
Though he’d originally intended to discuss his horses, giving credence to his pretense of believing her cover story, as he watched her with her dog, he chose silence instead.
After she realized he didn’t intend to chat, she went back to playing with her pet, though she never completely relaxed.
Watching her, he tried to analyze why Skylar continued to fascinate him. She was pretty, though not his type. As a rule, he favored tall, leggy blondes rather than curvy redheads. Even ones who exuded an unconscious sex appeal, as she did.
No, he decided, it wasn’t just physical. It had to be her inner vulnerability that fascinated him. He’d noticed the shattered expression flash across her face as she took in his home, his life. He’d seen the pain’from what?’that she’d tried so earnestly to hide.
In that, they were very much alike. He, too, had known his share of pain, of loss. He couldn’t help but wonder what life events had wounded her. She intrigued him, even as he wondered why he cared. He never cared. Too much potential for hurt. He was safer living on the surface, keeping his focus on his goal.
With that, he realized standing here watching her was a colossal waste of his time. Dipping his chin in a brusque nod, he turned away and headed back to the house.
* * *
The instant he strode off, Skylar felt all the tension leave her in a whoosh. “Matt Landeta is weird,” she told Talia, who dropped her ball at Skylar’s feet and now watched intently for another throw.
They played for another fifteen minutes in the diminishing light before Skylar called it quits.
As soon as she crawled into bed, she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
In the morning, waking for once without the nightmares haunting her, she rose hours before dawn. Unable to sleep, she finally gave up and rose. She’d showered and dressed long before the sun began to color the eastern sky pink.
Checking over her camera, she briefly wished she truly was a photojournalist, then shook her head at her odd flight of fancy.
Prior to this assignment, she’d been given an intense photography class, so she knew at least the basics of operating the expensive, professional-looking camera. She’d taken several artistic landscape shots as part of her homework and discovered, rather to her surprise, that she enjoyed photography.
She’d even begun using her free time composing shots, learning her way around the different settings for action shots versus landscapes.
She couldn’t wait to begin the official photo shoot later today.
In jeans and boots’yes, she’d brought a pair’she snapped a leash on Talia and walked down toward the barn area in the dark, hoping to beat the barn crew’s morning feeding process. Instead, they were already there, much earlier than she would have guessed. A small tractor pulled a flatbed trailer heaped with hay and a huge bucket of grain. One stable hand doled out the hay and the other used a coffee can to scoop out grain, pouring it into each stall’s feed trough.
All the horses, every single one of them, had their heads out the stall doors, watching and waiting in the darkness for their early-morning meal.
With Talia sticking close to her side, Skylar sidled around the feed wagon, earning a few semi-curious glances, but no one questioned her. She supposed word had gotten around that she was here on behalf of the horse magazine and no one wanted to bother her.
Which was good, as she didn’t want to be disturbed. Since she knew after the horses were fed they’d be left alone for at least an hour to digest their breakfast, she could take a few candid photos. Of course, she wouldn’t bother to pretend these were for the magazine’true horse lovers wouldn’t be interested in head shots; they’d want to see the entire animal so they could judge conformation and coat. But among horses, Arabians had the most chiseled features, aristocratic and regal. She always admired them from afar, though she’d never really gotten this close to them.
In addition to horse photos, she needed to do some snooping around and see if she could learn where Matt stored the ammo. She doubted he’d store something so explosive anywhere near his expensive livestock, but maybe she could pick up a few clues.
Gradually, the horses were fed and the barn emptied of people and went quiet. The only sound