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Her kiss blocked the rest of his words. Her hands tugged at his belt buckle. He helped her, then paused to roll away, drop his jeans and briefs, and fumble with something in his wallet. It took a moment before Rose realized he was protecting her.

Lying back, she opened her arms. A memory flashed through her mind—the pain, the sweat, the awful grunting and thrusting, and the shame that never went away; but it vanished as he held her close. Her hand felt his arousal, like velvet-cloaked steel, and suddenly she was no longer afraid. Her legs parted. She waited for him.

“Lie still, Rose.” He surprised her by moving down in the bed until his head was between her legs. She gasped at the sudden, intimate contact. Exquisite sensations poured through her body. Her womb pulsed and contracted. She cried out. Never in her life had she known that anything could feel like this.

With a low chuckle, he slid forward and entered her in one smooth glide. She was ready, more than ready. Her legs wrapped around his hips as he pushed deeper, heightening the waves of ecstasy that his mouth had ignited. It was . . . heaven.

Afterward, he held her gently, kissing her face, her eyes, her throat. “You know I mustn’t stay,” he whispered.

“I know. But hold me just a little longer. You make me feel safe, Tanner, for the first time in my life.”

* * *

He left her, after checking to make sure the door was locked and that her pistol was loaded and handy. “I’ll see you soon,” he said. “Be careful.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Thanks to you, Jasper and Bull have become like old mother hens. They’ll take good care of me, and probably drive me crazy.”

“Good for them.” After a final kiss he crossed the creek and walked back to the pickup he’d left at the edge of the trees. There was no sign that Garn Prescott had come back, but Tanner’s instincts were prickling. Since he was far from sleepy, it wouldn’t hurt to spend more time checking the pastures and the entrances and exits to the ranch. Maybe tonight he’d find a clue to the mystery of Ferg’s missing cattle.

CHAPTER TWELVE

TANNER HEADED THE TRUCK BACK THE WAY HE HAD COME. IT WAS still too early for cattle-rustling activity. He would go back to the bunkhouse and put in a call to his brother, then lay out a plan for the rest of the night.

Rose would be safe in her sturdy trailer, he told himself. Still, he planned to circle back that way later just to make sure. He knew that past guilt was working on his mind. He’d lost his loved ones because he’d taken their safety for granted. He was probably being overcautious, but Rose had become precious to him. Their lovemaking had been sweet and healing—though he could never be completely healed from the loss of his family.

Was he falling in love with her?

Falling, at least. But love was a word Tanner didn’t use lightly. He and Annie had been childhood sweethearts. They’d known each other all their lives. That was love. Feisty, sensual little Rose had come into his life only days ago. She fascinated him. She’d filled his dreams with erotic fantasies—fantasies that had become real in her bed tonight.

But love?

Maybe he’d be smart to nip the relationship in the bud. He didn’t want to hurt Rose. She deserved far better than that. She deserved a man who’d treat her like a queen, a man who’d stay by her side and never leave her. Even if he wanted to be that man, Tanner knew he didn’t have it in him. His heart would never be whole again.

Getting Rose’s expectations up, then letting her down, would be cruel—and Lord knows, she’d known enough cruelty from men in her life. The last thing he wanted was to become one more.

A coyote streaked into his headlights. Tanner touched the brake to let the animal bound off into the darkness. He had no quarrel with coyotes, especially tonight when he was still feeling the afterglow from making love to Rose. But the ranch lights in the distance ahead reminded him that he had serious work to do.

A couple of days ago, he had zeroed in on a small herd of mature steers. They were prime quality, market ready, perfect targets for theft. Acting on a hunch, he’d kept a close eye on their pasture. So far he’d seen nothing, but he planned to watch again tonight. It might be a waste of time, but maybe the rustlers would show up and he’d be lucky enough to catch them in the act.

It was coming up on nine-thirty. He’d have time to call his brother from the bunkhouse, grab a sandwich and some coffee, and catch a couple hours of shut-eye before getting back to work.

Driving past the house, he noticed that Garn’s black Porsche was missing from the lineup of parked vehicles. Maybe Ferg’s son had gone to town for some Blanco Springs–style excitement. That was fine, as long as he wasn’t hanging around Rose’s place. But Tanner planned to check later on, just to make sure.

In the bunkhouse, most of the cowhands were either sleeping or watching TV in the common room. The hall, where the pay phones were set up, was quiet. Tanner deposited the handful of change he’d saved up and called his brother. With luck, Clint would be indoors at this hour and able to talk with him.

“Is that you, Tanner?” Clint had a way of shouting into the phone when he knew it was long distance. “Lord, it’s been tough, here. Ruth’s in danger of delivering early, so the doc’s ordered bed rest. I hired a woman from town to help her out with the house and kids, but that costs money.”

“I’ll send more, Clint. I get paid tomorrow. There’ll be another five hundred in the mail.”

“It’s not just the money, Tanner. It’s you. I need you to come and help me run this ranch. The high school kid I hired wasn’t worth spit. I let him go yesterday. And the calving season’s on.”

“We need the income from this job,” Tanner said. “But maybe when I wrap up this case I can take unpaid leave for a couple of weeks to help you with the calving. I’ll see what I can do.”

It was a mercy to run out of phone change. Tanner ended the call writhing with guilt. He had deep roots in the family ranch, and he knew his brother needed help. But he would have drowned in despair if he hadn’t left to take this job. He would send his brother every cent he could spare. Maybe someday he would be strong enough to return to Wyoming and take up his life without Annie and Ethan. But he wasn’t ready to go back. Not yet.

He made himself a sandwich in the kitchen and washed it down with stale coffee. Then he went down the hall to his small private room, set the radio alarm, stretched out on the bunk, and closed his eyes. He’d had it with the Prescott family drama and with not finding any answers to the cattle theft. One way or another, he needed to wrap up this frustrating case and move on.

But as he drifted off to sleep, it was the memory of Rose’s beautifully flawed face that haunted him.

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