As they drew nearer, she could see it was more a cabin than a house. Vehicles parked in front were further confirmation she was at the right place. Rather old, the cabin had a rusty tin roof and boards hanging off the porch.
The marshal pulled up next to a truck and killed the ignition. She started to reach for her briefcase, but before she could turn, the door was jerked open.
Shocked, she whirled toward the door to find a stranger there, another marshal she assumed. “What—” Her words were cut off by the harsh look on the man’s face.
“Get out.”
One glance at the driver’s seat told of the other marshal’s exit. She eyed the gruff man at her door. “I just need to gather my things.” Nicole paused. “My briefcase and purse.” Something made her hesitate, waiting for a reply.
Perhaps his size. The man was a monster. Bigger than big, with linebacker-wide shoulders, he had a menacing edge to his presence. A jagged-edged scar decorated his right cheek, making him seem even more sinister. She couldn’t help but wonder how he got it.
“First, you meet Vega.” It was an order. “If he trusts you, then I’ll get your stuff.”
If he trusted her? Hello? She was the one here to decide if she trusted him. She opened her mouth to say so, but then quickly shut it. Something about this guy said, don’t argue.
“Let’s go,” he said, sounding like a guard talking to his prisoner. He reached for her as if he might grab her arm.
Appalled, she jerked her shoulder away and glared. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
Defiance flashed in his eyes, but for only a mere second, before it disappeared behind an indecipherable mask. Taking a step backward, he gave her a gallant wave forward. “Ladies first.”
Mumbling a few, barely audible, choice words, she stepped out of the car. Tossing her hair over her shoulder with an angry flip of the wrist, she marched ahead, wishing she’d left it pulled back. Her nerves were frazzled and her professional armor, which included her normal hairdo, would be welcome right about now.
Two men stood outside the door of the cabin, guarding the entryway, and blocking her passage forward. She glanced at the man on the left, noting his sunbaked skin and short brown hair. His counterpart to the right was his exact opposite in appearance. Fair hair and skin, and shoulder-length, tangled hair, which gave him a wild look. Neither looked friendly.
They both seemed as cranky as the man on her heels. “Great,” she mumbled, as she started up the porch steps. “They come in threes.”
As she stepped toward the men, neither moved. She’d changed into sensible dress pants and boots, but she still sported heels. Man, would she like to dig one of them into a foot to get a reaction. She’d never been treated this way before, and she planned to vocalize as much later.
Apparently, she had the green light to enter the house by herself. She looked from one man to the other. “You mean I don’t need my hand held?”
The sunbaked guard dog answered. “He knows you’re here.”
She didn’t ask how. Didn’t want to know. She just wanted to get this entire affair over with.
Without another word, Nicole reached for the door-knob. The hinges creaked as she pushed it open, almost as if it were issuing a warning to the occupant of the house.
“Hello?” she called out as she continued through a narrow entranceway.
No answer.
Inside, she found herself in what appeared to be a living room. She took in her surroundings quickly, noting the rustic, sparse furnishings. A couch, a chair and one table were the extent of the décor. There were no pictures, no knickknacks that people collect and display as they go through life. Nothing.
Either no one actually lived in the house, or the inhabitants cared little for life, in general. Probably, no one lived here. After all, it was some sort of safe house.
As her inspection continued, her gaze moved to a huge rock fireplace, the centerpiece of the room. A weird feeling made her stomach flutter. Her gaze shifted, as if instinctively, to a corner window.
That’s when she saw him. This man called Vega. She could hardly believe she hadn’t noticed him before. It wasn’t as if the room were huge or the man small. Somehow, he blended or hid or something, whatever it was, to make himself invisible. He was so still, so utterly unmoving, that it was as if he were a part of the room.
His back was to her, but she knew with complete certainty that he was one hundred percent aware of her every move. He faced the window, seeming to survey the view beyond the glass.
Her stomach flip-flopped as the feeling that had drawn her gaze seemed to intensify. A carnal awareness slid through her body, her skin heating, her heart thumping like a drum in her chest.