Feral (Wolf Ranch 3)

Little bubbles of excitement fizzed, even though I was telling myself this was for work. Work. “I’d love that. I’ll see you then.”

He grinned, then looked down to do the snaps, covering up his gorgeous chest. Sex definitely put a smile on this guy’s face. He was not the grouchy grumpy guy Audrey had described. Not at all, at least not now. Of course, he’d just come in my ass, so I had a feeling I was going to beat anyone in a making-Rob-smile competition.

He pointed at me. “Stay off your roof. You take a risk like that again, you won’t sit down for a week because you won’t get the fun kind of spanking. I’m serious, Natalie.”

The threat was high-handed and ridiculous, but the sexual charge between us made it totally sexy. I suddenly found myself wanting to defy him, just to get the promised punishment, although the good kind.

“I can take care of myself.” I fastened my bra and went to grab a new shirt from the dresser.

He finished putting on his boots. “I know that, angel. But you’re not invincible, and you don’t have to do it all on your own.”

That wasn’t true—I did. Or was that just what I preferred? It was hard to tell. Still, the idea of letting this big fierce cowboy think he was taking care of me had a strong appeal.

Too bad I wasn’t the real Natalie Shefield, here to stay. Once Markle was behind bars, I’d be back to my desk in Phoenix. Back to a new bad guy… which was definitely job security. Neither the bad guy or my desk in the desert sounded all that appealing right about now. Living on a ranch with a sexy neighbor seemed so much better.

Too bad there was zero chance for us because there was a real Natalie Shefield waiting to move to the house she’d inherited. I actually liked this guy beyond what he could do in bed, and it should have made me feel amazing, but it just… sucked.

12

WILLOW

I heard the clank of metal hitting metal as I crept through the dark and a blast of satisfaction ran through me. My instincts had been right to come out here at night. They never failed me.

Night goggles in place to help me see in the moonless sky—thanks to the DEAs fancy supply closet—I moved forward in a crouch, dressed in black with black smudges on my face to mute the glow of my pale skin. I had my Glock with me this time. And a large hunting knife. And an infrared camera to get evidence.

Markle was moving something.

At night.

In the dark.

And somehow, I seriously doubted it was just cattle although that was what I was seeing through the goggles being loaded into a truck.

This was my favorite part of the job—the solo surveillance work. I liked it far better than using my femininity to milk a guy for information. Or boring desk research. I enjoyed the risk of it. The skill and physical prowess required to stay quiet, blend in. While I’d never hunted animals, there was definitely a hunter in me. Stalking my prey out here in the dark, while breathing the cool mountain air, made me feel alive.

I slipped forward, through the fence and onto Markle’s property. I stayed low, near the telephone line. There wasn’t much to hide behind, but I could always drop to my belly in the tall grass if I needed to.

There. I heard the clank again and the soft low of a cow. When I got close enough to see better, I crouched and took out the camera, adjusting the telescope lens to use it like binoculars.

It was a cattle trailer, and indeed, the cattle were in the chute ready to be loaded, but Markle was loading a few crates into the back. I snapped a dozen photos, switched to the non-infrared setting and clicked some more. My pulse raced. I had to get down there and find out what was in those crates. I crouch-ran forward, squatted, took some more photos.

A man started loading the cattle. By the time I got close enough, he’d shut the back gate on the trailer and climbed in the driver’s seat. The engine of the truck rumbled to life and pulled away from the cattle chute and down the dirt drive.

Shit!

I took a risk and darted forward faster, as if I might miraculously catch sight of something else before it left. It was a typical livestock hauler. An eighteen wheeler with a metal slatted cargo area that I guessed by weight, not number of animals. I guessed Markle had loaded about five cows after I put on my goggles, the cover he needed to keep from being looked at too closely.

Realizing it was pointless to follow, I squatted again and took pictures of it leaving, getting a close up of the plate, the driver and each open window of the trailer.