One Night with a Red-Hot Rancher: Tough to Tame / Carrying the Rancher's Heir / One Dance with the Cowboy

His pale eyes were cold. “It should have been a tougher sentence. But despite his past, it was the first time he was ever charged with battery, and they couldn’t get more jail time for him on a first offense. The public defender in his case was pretty talented, as well.”

She drew in a long breath. “I’m glad we’re out of the city.”

“So am I. He lived barely a block from us. We’re not as easy to get to, here.”

She stared at him closely. “You believe the threats he made,” she murmured. “Don’t you?”

“He’s the sort of man who gets even,” he told her. “I’m not the man I was, or we’d never have left town on the chance he might come after you. But here, I have friends. If he comes down here looking for trouble, he’ll find some.”

She felt a little better. “I didn’t want to have him arrested again.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” he told her. “The fact that you stood up to him was enough. He was used to women being afraid of him. His own sister sat in the back of the courtroom during the trial. She was afraid to get near him, because she hadn’t lied for him when the police came.”

“What makes a man like that?” she asked sadly. “What makes him so hard that he has to beat up a woman to make him feel strong?”

“I don’t know, sis,” Kell told her gently. “Honestly I don’t think the man has feelings for anybody or anything. His sister told you that he threw her dog off a bridge when they were kids. He laughed about it.”

Her face grew sad. “I thought he was such a gentleman. He was so sweet to me, bringing me flowers and candy at work, writing me love letters. Then he came over to our house and the first thing he did was kick my cat when it spit at him.”

“The cat was a good judge of character,” Kell remarked.

“When I protested, he said that animals didn’t feel pain and I shouldn’t get so worked up over a stupid cat. I should have realized then what sort of person he was.”

“People in love are neither sane nor responsible,” Kell replied flatly. “You were so crazy about him that I think you could have forgiven murder.”

She nodded sadly. “I learned the hard way that looks and acts are no measure of a man. I should have run for my life the first time he phoned me at work just to talk.”

“You didn’t know. How could you? He was a stranger.”

“You knew,” she said.

He nodded. “I’ve known men like him in the service,” he said. “They’re good in combat, because they aren’t bothered by the carnage. But that trait serves them poorly in civilian life.”

She cocked her head at him. “Kilraven said that Eb Scott lets law enforcement use his gun range for free. Don’t you know him, too?”

“Yes.”

“And Micah Steele.”

“Yes.”

She hesitated. “They’re all retired mercenaries, Kell.”

“So they are.”

“Were they involved with the military?” she persisted.

“The military uses contract personnel,” he said evasively. “People with necessary skills for certain jobs.”

“Like combat.”

“Exactly,” he replied. “We used certain firms to supplement our troops overseas in the Middle East. They’re used in Africa for certain covert operations.”

“So much secrecy,” she complained.

“Well, you don’t advertise something that might get you sued or cause a diplomatic upheaval,” he pointed out. “Covert ops have always been a part of the military. Even what they call transparency in government is never going to threaten that. As long as we have renegade states that threaten our sovereignty, we’ll have black ops.” He glanced at the clock. “Shouldn’t you warm up the game system?” he asked. “It’s five-thirty.”

“Already?” she exclaimed. “Goodness, I need to tidy up the living room! And the kitchen. He’s bringing pizza and beer!”

“You don’t drink,” he said.

“Well, no, but you like a beer now and then. I expect somebody told him.” She flushed.

“I do like a glass of beer.” He smiled. “It’s also nice to have friends who provide food.”

“Like your friend Cy and the Chinese stuff. I’ll get spoiled.”

“Maybe that’s the idea. Your boss likes you.”

She’d gotten that idea, herself. “Don’t mention horns, pitchforks or breathing fire while he’s here,” she said firmly.

He saluted her.

She made a face at him and went to do her chores.

“That’s not fair!” Cappie burst out when she’d “died” for the tenth time trying to take out one of the Hunters in the Halo game.

“Don’t throw the controller,” Kell said firmly.

She had it by one lobe, gripped tightly. She grimaced and slowly lowered it. “Okay,” she said. “But they do bounce, and they’re almost shockproof.”

“She ought to know,” Kell told an amused Bentley Rydel. “She’s bounced it off the walls several times in recent weeks.”

“Well, they keep killing me!” she burst out. “It’s not my fault! These Hunters aren’t like the ones in ‘Halo 3…’ they’re almost invincible, and there are so many of them…!”

“I’d worry more about the alien grunts that keep taking you out with sticky grenades,” Bentley pointed out. “While you’re trying to snipe the Hunters, the little guys are blowing you up right and left.”

“I want a flame thrower,” she wailed. “Or a rocket launcher! Why can’t I find a rocket launcher?”

“We wouldn’t want to make it too easy, now would we?” Bentley chided. He smiled at her fury. “Patience. You have to go slow and take them on one at a time, so they don’t flank you.”

She gave her boss a speaking look, turned back to the screen and tried again.

It was late when he left. The three of them had taken turns on the controller. Bentley and Kell had wanted to try the split screen, but that would have put Cappie right out of the competition, because she was only comfortable playing by herself.

She walked Bentley outside. “Thanks for bringing the pizza and beer,” she said. “Some other time, I’d like to have you over for supper, if you’d like. I can cook.”

He smiled. “I’ll take you up on that. I can cook, too, but I only know how to do a few things from scratch. It gets tiresome after a while.”