Rescued by the Ranger (17 page)

“Aw . . . and sexy makes you laugh?” His confident smile teased her.

She shrugged. “I’m laughing because I was actually considering your irreverent suggestions—
so
not like me. Apparently,
sexy
makes me want to behave with abandon.”

Garrett wiggled his eyebrows above a wide grin. “I like that. You can let go of your inhibitions with me anytime. You’re safe with me.” He slapped her bottom playfully, and she leaned into him, giving him an over-the-top kiss that she hoped he took as a promise of good things to come.

Garrett’s cell phone vibrated, and he set her on her feet, retrieving the device from his back pocket. After taking one look at the screen, he sent the call to voice mail and turned his phone upside down on the table.

“Your wife?” Only half joking, Rachel tried to think of who else’s call he would avoid so blatantly while having dinner with her.

He rolled his eyes, clearly irritated. “There is no wife.”

“Girlfriend, then?” Rachel sat in her chair again.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” His words were almost a growl, and Rachel tried not to take them personally.

Their waiter and another staff member appeared with their salads and disappeared just as quickly. Garrett spread his napkin on his lap and started eating, obviously deep in private contemplation.

Rachel toyed with her salad greens.

After three minutes of excruciating silence, Garrett cleared his throat, causing her to glance up. He held his phone, screen facing her. The name of the person who’d just called was highlighted. She knew that name, and immediately understood why Garrett would ignore the call.

She turned sympathetic eyes on him. “Senator Harding?”

“Yeah.” Garrett tossed the phone down. “I haven’t answered any of his calls since I left home for the lodge. He’s getting desperate.”

Rachel reached for his arm. “I understand why you’re upset with him. I am too, but you’ll have to talk sooner or later.”

Garrett scowled. “I want proof that he sent my mother away and purposely hid her efforts to contact us before I confront him. I’m afraid if he tries to deny it, I might do something stupid.”

“He’ll still be your father, you know, no matter what you discover.” As much as Rachel despised the man for what he’d done to Amanda and his own sons, she felt compelled to search for words that would comfort Garrett. “Maybe there’s an explanation—something you can live with.”

“Don’t defend him.” He pointed an accusing finger at her, but the anger had gone out of him. “You were ready to run me off that first day even though I was trying to save your ass—all because you were sure I’d done something
you
couldn’t live with.” A slow smile materialized as he reached to encircle her wrist and rub her palm with his thumb. “Getting some mixed signals here, sweetheart.”

Rachel cocked her head and looked him slowly up and down, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “If you are, it’s because you’re not reading them right. I’m glad I didn’t run you off, Garrett Harding.”

He winked at her as the waiter returned with their entrees.

Garrett made her feel . . . so many things. As if she was the most important person in the room. His smoldering gray eyes locked on hers, sliding away to follow the path of each person who encroached too closely on their table, or darting toward the door to evaluate the threat level of each newcomer who had the audacity to enter and request a table. Clearly, her safety was his priority, and his intimidating size, the muscles that rippled and flexed beneath his shirt, and the Colt .45 she suspected he carried tucked in his waistband all worked to produce her current sense of well-being.

That and possibly the wine. She pushed her empty plate away and frowned as he poured her the last of the ruby red liquid. “Wait a minute. You’re still on your first glass. Are you trying to get me drunk, sailor?”

Garrett regarded her over the rim of his glass as he sipped lazily. “I should take offense at the sailor crack, but since Luke is a navy man, I’ll let it go . . . this time. And the answer to your question is
no
. I don’t want you drunk. I just want you relaxed. I imagine it’s been a while since you let your guard down and tonight, while I’ve got your back, you can relax.”

She could have sworn she felt the heat of his sincerity, and for a moment, she was afraid she’d embarrass herself by crying. Truth was she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt truly safe. That Garrett, stranger and object of her disdain three days ago, had thought to give her the gift of his protection, even for one night, was nothing short of miraculous. No wonder she harbored impossible feelings for him. Feelings she could never put into words because his stay in Idaho was only temporary. His life was elsewhere.

Nonetheless, he was hers for tonight and maybe for a few more days. Earlier, she’d paraded naked in front of him, seduced him, and let him make love to her. The secret was out—she was attracted to him, and she felt as though she’d known him all her life, not just a matter of days. Still, it was no excuse. Bottom line—she’d had sex with a man she barely knew. She’d crossed a line—done something that could never be undone—yet here she sat, contemplating how they would spend the rest of their night. In the absence of any real shame, her desire for him remained.

“Ready to go?”

Rachel glanced up at the concern in his voice. It was uncanny how he seemed to read her mind. She forced herself to lighten up and smile. “Ready when you are.” She was a grown woman. She’d known what she was doing, and any consequences would be born with as much grace as possible. No way would she feel sorry for herself now. Nor was she willing to sacrifice the rest of her time with Garrett.

He motioned for the waiter, gave him a hefty tip and the two discount coupons that had been delivered to their room earlier. All the while, Rachel closed her eyes so she couldn’t possibly see how much of the bill Garrett was picking up, and they left the restaurant with her arm looped through his.

As soon as they were in the elevator, Garrett hit the button for the top floor, lifted her until she wrapped her legs around him, and leaned her against the wall, all before the door ground shut. His forceful kiss seared her lips and dragged the breath from her lungs. She was practically panting when he let her up for air.

Rachel eyed the slowly closing door. “Garrett. What if someone comes in?” A second later, the door glided shut, and she breathed easier.

He slid his hands up her thighs, pushing her short skirt out of his way. “I haven’t been able to get this out of my mind since the idea came up at dinner. I can be quick . . . when I have to.”

He probably would have been, if his hand hadn’t, at that instant, come in contact with the bare skin of her hips where panties should have been. Those expressive eyebrows shot upward. “Are you going commando?”

“No!” Rachel laughed. “It’s a thong.”

A groan broke from his chest. His hands caressed her bare buttocks and traced the edges of the fabric into intimate places. “You need to tell me about things like this. Hell, we could have had food delivered to our room.” A huge grin formed as he tested the stretch of the tiny strip of fabric barely covering her crotch. He reached for his fly.

Voices outside the elevator penetrated Rachel’s lust just as a beep, indicating the button had been pushed to reopen the door, was followed by clicking noises from the control panel. Slowly, the mechanism began its slow-motion journey to clear the way for whoever was waiting to enter.

Though she was confident her eyes held nothing but panic, Garrett’s were sparkling with amusement as he set her on her feet, helped her tug her skirt down, and slid around behind her, using her body to hide his fairly noticeable arousal. As though on cue, a young couple stepped into the elevator at that exact moment and pushed the button for the third floor. Silence reigned in the tiny compartment as the door slowly closed once more and they lifted off with a small jerk.

The girl might have been twenty-one on a good day with the right ID, but Rachel would never have served her. Yet it appeared someone hadn’t been as discriminating. She leaned heavily against the man, blowing bubbles with a large wad of gum, while she brazenly scrutinized Garrett. Rachel bit her lip to keep from laughing.

Garrett looped his arms around her middle and pulled her against him, kissing the top of her head. The girl skewered Rachel with a disgusted glare, then turned to her date and rubbed her heavily perfumed body against him. The poor guy had the good grace to at least appear embarrassed, but it was obvious she’d had too much to drink and whatever evening he’d hoped for was on a downhill slide.

It seemed like forever before the elevator slid to a halt, the door opened, and the man helped the girl stumble into the hallway. Rachel’s humor disappeared with them. One more glass of wine and that could have been her.
Oh, Lord!
She and Garrett had very nearly done the deed . . . in an elevator . . . where anyone might have seen them. How dare she judge that young woman when her own behavior today had been disgraceful. Worse . . . because she
knew
better.

Garrett’s laugh jarred her from her reverie as he stepped around her, hitting the button to close the door and send the elevator toward the top floor again. He turned and offered his hand. “Come here.”

Rachel tensed and hooked her thumb toward the door. “That was our floor.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze flitting over her face, the tiniest bit of concern darkening his countenance. “I know. Come here for a minute.”

She shook her head slowly. “No. Garrett, did you see her? Drunk and acting like a complete slut . . . in public. Getting lucky was clearly a foregone conclusion for her boyfriend, but I’m pretty sure he couldn’t wait to be rid of her.” The words spewed from her until she finally had to stop for a breath.

Garrett’s eyebrow lifted in that curious way he had, and he held his hand out to her again. “Rachel, please come here.” Only two feet separated them. He could easily have reached her, yet he waited, steadfast as always.

Rachel was torn between annoyance and gratitude. In the end, it was the sexy stubble on his face that made her mind up for her. She took a step toward him.

He met her in the middle, gripping her shoulders firmly. His expression was somber and desperate at the same time. For a heartbeat, she dreaded what he was going to say. Studying his eyes, she threaded her fingers through his hair, watching each strand fall back into place. His expression softened, his jaw unclenched, and he leaned his forehead against hers.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Sadness and a hint of accusation surrounded his whispered words.

Rachel closed her eyes tightly so there’d be no chance of seeing the emotions flit across his face. Somehow he knew. Had he compared her to that girl, too? Did she come off looking just as sleazy to him? She couldn’t put her finger on why it mattered—why it was suddenly so important that he respect her. She couldn’t stop thinking that the girl might have been just like her at one time. Did one small indiscretion lead to what she’d become? Maybe they were more alike than Rachel wanted to believe.

“I don’t want to be that—” She choked on the words.

He gave her a quick shake and her eyes popped open. “You’re
not
that girl.” The forcefulness of his words wouldn’t allow her to look away.

Something in his strength and the trace of anger in his eyes made her stand straighter. She saw nothing but acceptance in his expression and felt the pride in his touch. Her heavy spirit began to fall away as she grabbed on to the truth of how he saw her with all of her strength. If he could believe in her that much, why shouldn’t she? Self-assurance had never been lacking before.

Rachel tipped her chin so she looked directly in his eyes. “Well, just to be on the safe side, I think I’ll quit drinking.”

Garrett chuckled, and his concern dissolved into a crooked grin.

“And if I
ever
start to grope you in public, please just put me out of my misery.”

He laughed softly and pulled her into his arms. “Don’t worry. If that happens, I know just what to do.”

Chapter Fifteen

G
ARRETT WALKED CLOSE
beside Rachel on the lush green grass of the wooded acre that served as the venue for the classic car show. The lake, less than two hundred yards away, sparkled in the moonlight, adding its beauty to the surreal setting. Cowboy was on high alert beside him. The dog wasn’t used to being leashed, and it always made him edgy. At least if anyone got within two feet of Rachel, Garrett would know.

Something had shifted, the tiniest fraction of an inch, between him and Rachel in that elevator earlier. As they’d returned to their room, grabbed jackets, and left again with Cowboy, a deeper trust had lingered in her eyes each time she glanced his way. He didn’t fully understand, but the warmth that settled somewhere near his heart morphed into tenderness for the courageous redhead who’d grabbed his interest with little or no effort. Now, more than ever, it was up to him to make sure nothing happened to her.

Garrett kept one eye on the crowd as they walked along a row of restored muscle cars, stopping to admire, occasionally speaking with an owner who stood ready to share information about horsepower and performance. Garrett was amazed and proud of Rachel’s knowledge of the V-8 engines that powered the cars. Many times she carried the conversation herself, and he’d learn something new before they moved on.

After one particularly long interchange where even Cowboy got antsy, Garrett slung his arm around her shoulders and leaned close. “Where did you learn about cars?”

“One of my mother’s many boyfriends when I was growing up was a mechanic. Unlike most of the men who hung around, he didn’t mind answering my questions—until the day my mom kicked him out.” She turned away, but not before he saw the pain reflected in her eyes.

“I’ve never heard you talk about your mother before. Why is that?” Of course, he had an idea. The
many boyfriends
reference kind of said it all. Was Rachel afraid she’d turn out like her mother? Is that why she’d had such a strong reaction to the girl in the elevator?

“We’re not close. There’s not much to talk about.” She shrugged and tossed her head as though the small action would put a period at the end of the conversation.

Garrett chuckled and slid his arm around her waist—then stopped abruptly as he encountered the hard object against her back, hidden by the drape of her denim jacket over her hips.

He swung her around in front of him. “Are you carrying?”

“Of course. Aren’t you?”

“Well . . . yes, but—aw hell! Never mind. I should have known you were . . . and that you’d keep that bit of news to yourself. Rachel, I thought we’d made a little breakthrough, but apparently not. When are you going to start trusting me?”

She pressed her palm against his chest. “I
do
trust you, Garrett. More than I ever thought possible, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be unarmed when Jeremy tries to kill you.”

It always threw him when she steadfastly maintained that
he
was the one in danger—that Jeremy would go after
him
if their little ruse worked and they managed to pull him out into the open. Garrett hoped to hell she was right. He wanted a shot at the bastard in the worst way.

Over the top of Rachel’s head, Garrett caught a glimpse of a familiar face. The words on his lips dissipated as he did a double take straight into the grinning mug of Jase Richards.
What in the hell?
Jase wasn’t supposed to show until tomorrow.

As he stared, his friend motioned to his right where a coffee vendor occupied a temporary kiosk. Rachel looked over her shoulder, apparently noticing his shift in attention.

Irritation made him jumpy. What was going on with his friend anyway? He’d never known Jase to say one thing and do another. He must have a damn good reason. Garrett drew a deep breath to calm himself. “You remember Jase from the phone, right? How about if we go get a cup of coffee and I’ll introduce you to him?”

Rachel raised one eyebrow. “That’s Jase? Why doesn’t he just come over here and say hello instead of making hand signals behind my back? I’m pretty sure he wants to talk to you privately, and frankly, I’ve been eyeing that ice cream stand over there.” She jutted her chin back the way they’d come, just beyond the red-and-white 1968 Camaro whose owner had graciously let her sit in the car.

Garrett reached for her hand as though that would keep her beside him. He didn’t like the idea of letting her get that far from him, though common sense told him it was only three car lengths away. Besides, he’d have a battle on his hands if he tried to tell her she couldn’t go. He tried to put Cowboy’s leash in her hand.

She wouldn’t take it. “I don’t have control over this dog the way you do. I know what you’re going to say—he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. That’s true, but what if he perceives a threat where there isn’t one? What if I can’t stop him? I’d never forgive myself.”

She was right, of course. There was always a possibility of an incident getting out of hand if someone didn’t have complete control of an animal, especially one with the training that Cowboy had. He made a note to himself to teach her at the first opportunity. “Okay, I’ll have my eye on you the whole time. You get your ice cream. I’ll get Jase, and we’ll meet back here. Turn your phone on just in case. Don’t go anywhere else. Got it?” He was probably pushing his luck, but it had to be said.

To his surprise, she smiled. “You’re kind of bossy, but I’ll let you get away with it this time.” She squeezed his hand before she pulled free, already digging for her cell phone.

Garrett watched the sway of her hips as she walked away, then turned toward the coffee shack his friend had indicated. As promised, he glanced over his shoulder every few seconds to track Rachel’s progress.

Jase Richards had been a year ahead of Garrett in school, which made him thirty-five. He was a couple of inches shorter, but the size of his biceps and pecs kept most of the sleazeballs he encountered in his investigative work from causing problems. They’d gone through Ranger training together, going on to deployment with different units, and lost track of each other. Garrett had been promoted through the ranks, eventually making captain. Jase had finished his first hitch and opted out. When Garrett was sent stateside after the cluster that had killed most of his unit and wounded him, Jase was the first person to walk into his hospital room. They’d resumed their friendship as though only a few days had passed since they’d talked, instead of almost twelve years. Garrett still trusted him with his life.

“So . . . that’s the beautiful lady, huh?” Jase gave a low whistle as Garrett approached. “Is it serious, or do I have a shot?”

Garrett turned to appreciate the same view Jase had. “That would be hands-off territory, Jase, and that’s the only comment like that you get for free.”

Jase threw his hands up. “Well, it’s about damn time you got possessive about a woman. I’m happy for you.” He shoved a hot paper cup toward Garrett. “I hope you still drink a short Americano. I was worried about the caffeine keeping you up all night, but now that I’ve had a look at Rachel—”

Garrett slammed his fist into his friend’s shoulder. “Jase. I meant what I said.”

“Okay. Okay. Shit, man! That’s gonna leave a bruise.”

“Grab your fucking coffee and talk while we’re walking. I don’t like being this far away from her until we know for sure we’ve got her stalker under lock and key.” Garrett started back toward Rachel and waited for Jase to catch up. “What are you doing here? Luke said you were flying in tomorrow.”

“That was the original plan.”

“And since when don’t you tell me everything you know up front?” Garrett stared straight ahead, following Rachel’s path.

“Keep in mind I’m just the messenger here, okay?” Jase rested a hand on Garrett’s shoulder for a split second.

Rachel had purchased her ice cream in a cup and was meandering back along the line of cars they’d already looked over when the owner of the ’68 Camaro approached and engaged her in conversation. The guy was harmless, so Garrett turned his attention back to Jase. “Waiting for you to spill it, Richards. What could possibly be so bad that you needed a face-to-face and a day earlier than planned?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Could be I suddenly got dragged into this thing between you and your old man. As usual, he’s got his own agenda, and I knew you’d be pissed as hell. So here I am if you need to take a punch at someone.”

Garrett stopped and faced his friend. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Jase flung one arm up, his frustration clear. “I had a brief phone conversation this afternoon with the intruder they caught at that fucking wilderness lodge where you’ve apparently been hanging out. He didn’t tell
me
anything either, in spite of my best interrogation techniques. Just gave me a phone number and
suggested
I call. He’s one cool dude, man.”

“Did you call?”

“You know I did.” Jase looked toward the ground and shook his head.

“Well, who was it?” Garrett had already guessed the answer, and his patience was at an all-time low.

“Senator Harding.” Jase raised his head.

Garrett smirked. Of course. He should have known. His old man certainly had the money and the clout to hire a professional like the one that currently languished back at the lodge. One of the most powerful men in the country, this wouldn’t be the first time he’d used his position to his advantage. Yep. This had his father written all over it, though
why
he was interested . . . Garrett couldn’t begin to fathom. He started walking again. “Did my father give you any useful information?”

Jase caught up in two strides. “Not really, but he’s joining us via helicopter tomorrow at the Cougar Ridge Hunting Lodge.” Jase groaned. “Shit! I tried, but I couldn’t talk him out of it, Garrett, and he wouldn’t explain why he was coming except that he had to talk to you in person.”

Garrett clenched his one free fist, and for a moment, considered hurling the hot coffee somewhere into the crowd. “
That’s
why you’re here early—because you knew how long it would take me to get my head on straight after hearing your news. And taking quite a chance that I wouldn’t lose it on the messenger, I might add.” One glance at Jase’s cautious expression told Garrett he was right. He looked toward Rachel in time to catch her smile in answer to something the owner of the car said, and an instant calm settled over him. In all his life, Garrett had never been able to guess what his father’s reaction was going to be. That the senator was somehow involved in this, though momentarily surprising, was so very typical. Garrett couldn’t wait to hear his bullshit explanation.

But—shit!
Rachel was under the impression the man detained at the lodge was Jeremy, and that her life of hiding was finally over. Yet the senator couldn’t be responsible for the stalker who’d killed Chance and made Rachel’s life hell for the past ten years. Instinctively, Garrett knew his father wasn’t involved with Jeremy.
The man detained at the lodge wasn’t Rachel’s stalker and probably didn’t know anything about him. So who was he . . . and where the hell was Jeremy?

Suddenly feeling too exposed, he searched for Rachel through a red haze of anger until he focused on her still talking to the owner of the Camaro and another man. She laughed and then shook her head, turning to go. The newcomer grabbed her left arm and didn’t let go when she tried to shake him off. Cowboy growled low in his throat. Immediately, Garrett tossed his coffee cup into a nearby receptacle and jogged toward her. Jase must have noticed, too. Within a couple seconds, he was keeping pace beside Garrett and Cowboy.

Rachel dropped her ice cream and reached behind her back, flipping the edges of her jacket up. Garrett picked up his pace to cover the last ten feet and placed his hand on her back just as she would have drawn the weapon. Her sigh of relief was audible as she dropped her hand to his belt loops.

Cowboy’s growl was menacing, and he stared straight at the man who had his hand on Rachel. Garrett knew just how he felt. The man released her and stumbled back, eyeing first the dog and then Garrett.

“Is everything all right, sweetheart?” Garrett slung his arm around her shoulder and smiled.

Rachel stared the man down for a second before turning to Garrett. “Uh-huh. I’ve been having the nicest conversation about this Camaro, but then I spilled my ice cream.” She reached to scratch Cowboy’s head and finally managed to drag his attention away from the man he’d been fixated on.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you another one.” He turned her away from the two men and headed for the ice cream stand. He knew Jase would have his back, just like always, even though they hadn’t spent much time together for the past few years. Old habits died hard.

“What was that about?” Garrett leaned close and spoke in a low voice.

“I don’t really know. The Camaro owner and I were talking, and then the other guy joined in and said he had a ’69 Dodge Charger he thought I’d like. And then he got really insistent about taking me to see it. I tried to walk away, and you saw the rest.
Oh God!
I was so glad to see you. I thought I was really going to have to shoot someone.” She hugged him around the waist as they continued walking.

“Any possibility it was Jeremy?” Garrett hated to ask, but he had to know.

She backed up a step as a small gasp escaped, and the disappointment in her eyes made her stiffen and glance around. “I hadn’t considered that. I was under the assumption Jeremy was locked up at the lodge.” Her brow furrowed. “He’s not . . . is he? Is that what your friend Jase came to tell you? Oh God.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she hugged herself. “That guy . . . touched me. I should have shot him.” She choked out a laugh, sounding close to hysteria.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed the side of her forehead. “You did just right, sweetheart. I’m proud of you. Until we know for sure who’s back at the lodge, we need to operate like Jeremy’s still out there somewhere. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. I won’t let you get that far away from me again—not until this is over.” They paused by the ice cream stand, and Garrett reached for his wallet as Jase halted beside him.