Rescued by the Cowboy (WEST Protection Book 1) Read online

  He jumped out and locked her in. With phone in hand, he snapped photos of each man and shot them off to Josiah.

  He climbed behind the wheel again and drove as fast as conditions would allow, the urge to put miles between them and her attackers a coal burning in the hollow of his gut.

  “Are you okay?” He threw her a look.

  Her hazel eyes were frantic. “We can’t just…drive away! Ross, you killed that man! The other might be dying!”

  “The police are on the way.”

  “But you’re fleeing the scene!”

  “I’ve got the clearances to do exactly that—my first priority is keeping you safe. Now I want you to push your seat back all the way and place your foot on the dash to elevate your leg. Can you do that?” He stared at her so long that she waved a hand at him.

  “Pay attention to the road. I don’t want to drive off a cliff next!” She worked her jeans up her calf.

  “Good, now take the blanket and press it hard to your wound to try to stop the bleeding.”

  “I’ll ruin the blanket.”

  “Jesus Christ, Pip! Do it now.”

  With shaking hands, she did his bidding. He only drove a mile down the road before Josiah called, firing off questions. Ross’s attention swung between his brother and the woman bleeding in the passenger seat.

  Fucking hell. He’d failed her. By letting down his guard for a second, he’d placed her in harm’s way.

  She could have been killed. If she had, how would he ever explain that to her mother? Her father?

  How would he live with himself?

  “I want you, Boone and Silas with me in Seattle,” he ordered Josiah as he stared blindly at the landscape. Any other time, driving through these mountains filled him with peace and gave his spirit a break from the mundane chores of the ranch or dealings with the company. Now he hardly noticed the rugged beauty that inspired awe.

  “Booking the flights now. What else do you need? Should I call another agency for support? A solo protection officer in the area? How ’bout ex-military? I’m sure I can round up one or two. Or…maybe The Guard?”

  He considered the question. The Guard was an elite group of retired military who operated mainly on the East Coast, but they were known to take on missions in Europe and as far as Russia.

  “It’s a good idea. Find out if any of them are in our area, and if so, plan my next stops and have them waiting there to back me up.”

  “I had a bad feeling about you taking this job, Ross.” Josiah’s ominous tone rang like a gong in Ross’s soul.

  “What do you mean?” His gritty tone drew Pippa’s head around.

  “I should have voiced it before you left. I should have insisted on coming with you.”

  “We needed you there. Working intel. None of us could have guessed this would happen.”

  “Is Pippa okay? She said she was hurt.”

  “A bullet grazed her calf.”

  “Jesus H Christ!”

  “I’m getting her someplace where I can tend to her, but it’s shallow. She’s going to be okay.” He met her stare when he said this.

  She had to be okay.

  But he wouldn’t blame her one damn bit if she never trusted him again.

  “Josiah.”

  “Yeah, bro?”

  “No more fucking around and spinning wheels about hiring people. This is exactly what I’ve been talking about at the last five meetings we’ve had. We need to scale up—and this incident shows us how much.”

  “I’ll put the pressure on Noah and talk to Boone.”

  “Do that.” He ended the call.

  “What’s the plan, Ross?” Pippa’s voice wobbled.

  He studied her for signs of shock. Her eyes were lucid and she was paler but not too bad. He touched the back of her hand, finding it warm.

  “I’m not going into shock if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said.

  His lips quirked. “Forgot you’re far smarter than me when it comes to bodies and what makes them tick. My plan’s to get you the hell out of these mountains and then we’re taking a detour instead of a straight shot to Seattle.”

  “I don’t understand any of this. Nobody’s ever shown me anything but kindness and excitement about my discovery.”

  “And I don’t understand how much of the credit you get versus MIZR.”

  She brushed her hair off her face and bound it into a messy bun on the back of her head. “I work for MIZR but I receive credit for everything I discover. They only provide me with a lab and all I need. But what I find, they have the rights to use the technology.”

  “Meaning, you could sell the information to somebody else.” He spoke slowly.

  “Why would I do that? I’m loyal to MIZR.”

  “But not everyone feels the same, I’m sure.”

  “So you think…somebody’s trying to steal my research and sell it to another lab? Or use it for himself?”

  “It makes more sense than anything we’ve come up with so far.” He gave her a sharp look and then reached behind the seat for water. He passed her a bottle and told her to drink.

  “Stay hydrated, he says,” she muttered, taking a sip.

  Relieved by her sass, he said, “I need to ask about your personal life.”

  She lowered the bottle. “You listened to me pee, Ross. I think you’re pretty well acquainted.”

  He grunted. “I mean I need names of anybody you’ve dated in your field, going back to university. Actually, I need names of all the people you’ve slept with, including one-night stands.”

  She lapsed into one of her silent spells. What in the hell could be going on in that brain of hers? She was probably alphabetizing her lovers.

  Two pink spots burned on her cheeks.

  “How many are there?” he finally burst out.

  Those spots turned a flaming red. The tips of her ears too. “Three! What do you think I am?”

  His pulse, hammering before, kicked into a gallop. Christ, he shouldn’t care about her lovers, especially at a time like this. But what she said pleased him—a lot.

  He passed her his phone. “Give Josiah the details.”

  She snatched the phone from him with enough strength to prove that she hadn’t lost too much blood from the graze on her calf. She was in the middle of texting when the phone rang in her hand.

  “It’s Josiah,” she said.

  He took the device from her and brought the phone to his ear.

  “Okay, The Guard’s actually got two guys in our region. One on his way north from Vegas. He’s our closest. He can be airlifted by private craft and meet you when you reach the Washington border.”

  He mentally mapped out his location and the length of time it would take to reach the border. He was pulling all the strings—favors too—but it was his best bet.

  “Get him there. Find us a motel, something small and out of the way. I need to stop and tend to her wound better.”

  “Okay, this guy’s name is Roman. A big, bad-ass motherfucker. I’ve met him.”

  “That’s what I need. And Pippa’s sending you a couple more names. Run them through the system.”

  After they ended the call, Pippa continued texting Josiah her information. Then Ross fished around behind the seat again and located the first-aid kit. “Open this,” he said, dropping it in her lap. “Poor some antiseptic on your wound. We can’t risk infection, and it’ll be a while before we stop.”

  With a blank expression, she went about cleaning her gash, only wincing once.

  “Good girl. Now wrap it in clean gauze.”

  He’d felt helpless before—plenty of times on the ranch where they lost an animal or when he’d stood at his grandfather’s deathbed, knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing to keep him alive. But not being able to help Pippa with this small task for fear of being jumped again if he stopped hit a whole new level.

  Their eyes met.

  And he glanced away.

  * * * * *

  Watching two bi
g, tough guys exchange a chin nod of greeting would send any woman with eyes and a pair of ovaries into a tizzy.

  Ross led her past the big, buff dude with arms that could shred a man, and entered the small off-the-beaten-path motel with only six rooms—all of them vacant besides the one she and Ross had been given.

  At Ross’s insistence, she leaned on him to take the weight off her leg. He closed the door, locked it, including the chain, dropped her bag and did a sweep of the room, checking in the bathroom and under the king-sized bed, and then walked back to her.

  She stared at his hands. Images of his fists still curled after he stopped beating their attacker kept rising up in her mind.

  She knew he was deadly, and now he’d proved it. He’d killed a man—for her. She should feel more sickened by the thought, and maybe she was in shock, but she could only believe the man attacking them knew what he was getting into when he took the job.

  Who hired him?

  “Sit down on the bed.” Ross’s order broke into her thoughts.

  He helped her the two feet to the bed, and she sank to the stiff mattress covered in a striped bedspread.

  “This place looks better on the inside than out,” she remarked.

  He knelt in front of her and unzipped the first-aid bag again. When locating the antiseptic and gauze, she’d seen a lot of things in that bag that made her question what the Wyntons and their colleagues got themselves into. Vials of antibiotics, morphine syrettes, medical staples, tweezers and clamps. A tourniquet.

  She issued a sigh that came out shakier than she felt.

  Ross’s green eyes creased with worry. “I’m going to help you remove your jeans, honey.”

  A flutter hit her stomach.

  “It’s better to bandage your bare leg and then you can slide clean clothes on over it.”

  “Of course.”

  She’d already used the bathroom with him standing nearby. Getting naked in front of him was no big deal, right?

  She hesitantly reached for her button and zipper. He busied himself removing items from the first-aid kit and laying them out on a big, sterile cloth, which he removed from a wrapper. She shifted to her feet in order to shimmy the denim over her hips.

  Ross glanced up and then looked away.

  She gave a nervous laugh. “Birthing hips.”

  “What?” He stared at her.

  “A friend in college called my hips birthing hips one time we changed in front of each other.”

  He latched his gaze to her rounded hips, and the touch of his eyes scorched her. “Your friend’s a dumb shit. Your hips are perfect.”

  She swallowed hard. He was only being a nice guy.

  “You’re too tall to ever really carry weight, Pippa.” He shook his head and then removed his hat. When he set it next to her on the bed, she had a sudden urge to reach out and touch the white felt cloth which was an extension of Ross.

  He helped her remove the jeans the rest of the way, careful when he reached the bullet graze on the back of her leg.

  She inspected the wound along with him. “Have you ever been shot?”

  His dark brows drew together. “No,” he gritted out. “And I’m damn sorry you did.”

  Long seconds passed as he proceeded to examine the wound. Then he cleaned and bandaged it. When he withdrew one of the vials, he said, “You’re not allergic to penicillin, are you?”

  “No.” She shucked the jacket she still wore and rolled up her sleeve, presenting her upper arm to him to inject. After the deed was done, they looked at each other.

  “Good job. You didn’t even flinch.”

  Now that she was safe for the moment and wasn’t in danger of dying of sepsis from her wound, something else happened—her stomach clenched in gnawing hunger.

  One thought of that juicy burger dropped back in the parking lot and the tears started to flow.

  “Jesus, honey. Fuck.” Still kneeling before her, he cupped her face. Brushed her hair off her forehead. “Are you in pain? I have something for that.”

  She shook her head with a loud sniffle. “I lost my burger.”

  “You…” He closed his eyes and opened them again. “At least it wasn’t your life, honey.”

  Their stares met. The hunger inside her switched to a new kind—for Ross.

  She threw herself at him.

  His solid steel body felt warm, comforting, arousing…amazing.

  Arms latched around his neck, she tipped her face for his kiss. A glimmer in his green eyes was his only hesitation before he claimed her lips.

  Slamming his mouth over hers, he stood with her in his arms, settling on the bed with her legs draped over his lap as he intensified the kiss. He swept his tongue over the seam of her lips and plunged inside on her gasp.

  Need battered her. She wiggled closer and stroked her tongue against his on the second pass. The low growl she raised in his chest set her on fire, and she angled her head to deepen the kiss.

  He worked his fingers through her hair, loosening her bun. Each warm digit sent heat trickling over her scalp, down her neck to her breasts. Her nipples throbbed for his hands on them. His mouth on them.

  He suddenly pulled back, his stare riveted on her. “Honey, this is wrong.”

  “Does it feel wrong?” She couldn’t guess where this boldness sprang from. She certainly never guessed she’d talk to Ross Wynton this way a few days ago. Maybe just getting shot awakened her to the fact that life was short.

  She brushed her lips back and forth over his. They appeared so hard yet felt so soft. So perfect. She could have low blood sugar because the blueberry bars wore off long ago, but she didn’t think that was the case. She wanted Ross—she always had. As a teen, she didn’t even know what she wanted from him—now she did.

  Judging by the bulge of his cock, he no longer thought of her as that gawky little girl.

  When she skated her mouth over his again, his growl erupted into a primal noise that had her body primed.

  For him.

  He twisted her in his arms and spread her on the bed. Bracing his weight overtop her, he gazed into her eyes. “This changes everything.”

  “I don’t want to go back,” she whispered.

  “You’re in pain. Not thinkin’ straight.”

  She dug her fingers into his hair that always slightly curled on his nape. “Ross…you know that’s not true.”

  He swallowed hard enough to make his Adam’s apple work up and down.

  Then he kissed her again with an urgency that rocked her to the core. Her insides trembled. Her pussy ached and her panties were soaked. She rubbed on the bulge in his jeans, shaking for more…more of Ross…more of everything.

  Each stroke of his tongue over hers stole her mind. When he glided his hand over her hip, she recalled his drawled words… They’re perfect.

  She worked her hands across his broad shoulders, learning the power coiled within of them. Landing on his spine, she did the same, memorizing each contour of muscle until she could draw them out in her mind if she wanted to.

  He tore from the kiss, staring at her mouth and panting hard. “I need to stop, but goddamn if I can.”

  “Don’t,” she murmured, searching his eyes. Her belly dipped at the expression he wore—a dark heat of desire she’d never seen on him or anyone else before.

  Desire for her.

  “This moment could ruin our friendship.”

  “Or start a new one,” she argued.

  “I want to do things to you that your past three lovers never even thought of.”

  Her insides melted. Juices flooded her panties.

  “I want you to show me.”

  “Fuck, honey…” He dropped his head as if battling himself.

  When he raised it again, she read the promise in his gaze, jolting her back to that moment he climbed into the back seat during the snowstorm and waited for her to join him.

  He pulled her shirt off before she could think. When he kissed a blazing path down her throat to the cr
ests of her breasts, she closed her eyes and sucked in the feel of the man guarding her with his life.

  “Beautiful.” He dotted a perfect line of kisses from the top of one breast to the other. Her skin pebbled at the warm caresses.

  She worked his shirt up, gliding her palms over his skin that was velvet coating iron. He moved to help her remove the garment, and their gazes caught and held as he popped the clasp of her bra.

  “There’s no coming back from this, Pippa.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t care. I want you.”

  As he exposed her breasts, he groaned. With one fingertip, he teased her straining nipple with the faintest of touches. So soft she wondered if she imagined it. But then he lowered his mouth to her bud and took it between his lips and she knew this was no dream.

  A sharp need made her rub against him as he sucked her nipples into hard peaks. He drew on her, gently at first and increasing the pressure until she thought she’d die from want. When he moved to her other breast, circling her nipple with his tongue first and then drawing on it the way he had the first, her insides clenched.

  “I’ve never been so…close to coming,” she rasped.

  He raised his head and slanted a look at her. While holding her stare, he settled his hand over her pussy. Her soaked panties were no barrier against his hot fingers as he stroked her lightly. So lightly. She shook and clutched at his shoulders.

  “Kiss me,” she begged.

  A groan escaped him as he captured her mouth and strummed her clit with torturous precision. He knew just how to string her out, turn her inside out and drive her toward an end so big that it almost frightened her.

  The pain in her leg vanished, replaced by white-hot passion. As his fingertip crested her swollen clit once more, she sucked in a gasp. Quivering on the precipice.

  “Fuck, are you gonna come for me? I haven’t gotten started, honey.” He shoved to his knees, hooked his fingers in the sides of her panties and pulled them off, very gently when he reached her calf.

  With a dark look, he spread her legs and covered her clit with his mouth. She stifled a scream, drowning in bliss. Or what she perceived to be bliss before he teased her clit with purposeful sweeps of his lips and tongue.