Submitting to the Cattleman (Cowboy Doms 6)

Put all together like that, Kurt could come up with only one possible answer, one that sent a frisson of unease slithering under his skin. “Witness protection?”

Grayson shrugged. “I could be wrong.”

“But you, we could be right, and it does explain a lot.” And added layers to his worry. “If they hear of this…”

“They’ll move her.”

“No one’s moving her anywhere for a while,” Mitchell said, stepping out of the exam room. “I caught the last bit of your conversation, and from Leslie’s expression, so did she. She has a concussion, which we knew. Her arm isn’t broken but badly banged up, as is her left hip and thigh. All in all, she’s damn lucky that’s it, but she needs rest.”

“Then I suggest the two of you help me convince her to come to my place while the Feds get this figured out. She’ll be safe there. I’ve got over fifty cowhands who are excellent shots and between the sensors along the fencing and hidden cameras everywhere, Grayson, you know how secure our property is.”

“Decision’s hers, but I’m willing to go to bat for you. Hell, we didn’t like partying anywhere on your land as teens because your security was too fucking good. I imagine it’s even better now.”

“Damn straight.” Kurt turned to Mitchell. “Can I go in now?”

“Be my guest. I don’t envy you the battle you’re in for.”

Now I have three stern-faced, determined Doms to contend with. Leslie shivered as she looked at the men entering the small room, their chiseled faces etched with stone-cold determination, their eyes showing varying shades of warm concern mingling with banked fury on her behalf. She could have staved off Kurt’s pushy insistence for answers if need be, but all three of them? She was doomed to reveal everything, and she knew it before a word was said. Grateful the nurse had already stepped out after helping her dress, her wobbly legs forced her to sit back down on the exam table.

“What?” she asked, stalling. Sheriff Grayson was as good at his job as sheriff as he was as a Master at The Barn. The pain shot Dr. Hoffstetter administered had already kicked in, but the woozy numbness it wrought wasn’t enough to deflect the forceful impact of those looks.

Kurt moved to her side and ran a hand down the back of her head and hair, the soothing caress tempting her to lean against him. But that would strip away the last of her defenses, so she forced herself to stay upright and worked up a teasing grin. “Sorry, looks like I’ll be late getting to your place.”

His hand tightened in her hair, his knuckles pressing against her nape, the grip holding her head immobile. “Not funny, Leslie. Why would someone deliberately shoot at you?”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Cutting right to the chase, aren’t you?”

“Do we have time not to?” Grayson growled.

Leslie succumbed to the inevitable. “No. I have to make a phone call and then,” her voice caught and she yanked her head hard enough for Kurt to drop his hand, “I have to leave. I’m sorry I brought this down on you.” Her gaze swept the three of them, but her words were for Kurt.

Mitchell continued to lean against the wall, staying silent but eyeing her with both medical concern and dominant frustration. Grayson crossed his arms and continued to glare, both of them leaving it up to Kurt to address that statement.

His eyes flashed with temper but his response, a blunt, emphatic, “No,” warmed her even as it got her ire up. Before she could vent, he surprised her by saying, “Call your liaison in Witness Protection and tell them you have a safe place to stay with me. Or better yet, let me talk to them. I have a few words to tell them about their ability to keep you safe.”

“How did you know?” The relief over having the secret out couldn’t prevent a cold slither of fear for him, and anyone else who came near her. If Glascott had sent someone after her, he wouldn’t get paid until he’d completed the job.

“It didn’t take long to figure it out once I found the bullets in your car.” Grayson took the few steps to her other side. “I can vouch for the security surrounding the Wilcox ranch which includes how many cowhands all proficient with a rifle?” He glanced toward Kurt.

“Fifty, at last count.” His black eyes bored into her. “They not only spend their days riding our property, they have to carry rifles and know how to shoot fast and accurately to keep our livestock safe from predators. A bear or cougar attack can spring without warning. Someone might be savvy enough to disable a sensor or avoid a camera, but alarms will signal such a breach, in the bunkhouse, main house and offices.” His voice turned gruff as he held out his hand. “Come home with me, sweetheart. We can discuss your plight further when you’re feeling better.?

??

Mitchell spoke for the first time since re-entering the room with Kurt and Grayson. “You shouldn’t make any important decisions for the next twenty-four hours, and not while you’re heavily sedated, like you are now.”

Leslie knew when she was beat, only unlike four years ago when she’d railed and despaired over having to enter the program and forge a new life, this time, God help her, she was going to risk holding onto what she had for a little longer.

Ignoring the presence of Mitchell and Grayson, she gave Kurt her full attention, and her stipulation. “Fine, I’ll come to your place, but I’m not sleeping with you.” If the sheriff’s office and whatever help Grayson got from the Feds couldn’t stop this threat, and fast, she needed to prepare for leaving everything, and everyone she cared about again. She couldn’t do that if she and Kurt continued to grow closer.

Grayson snorted and walked out. Mitchell raised a sardonic brow before leaving them alone. Kurt was blunt and to the point. “Sweetheart, there’s never been any sleeping when we’ve been together. Let’s go.”

He was going to be difficult, Leslie knew it. That didn’t bother her, which meant she was already in deeper than she should be, or wanted to be.

Kurt swallowed his irritation over Leslie’s terms, not surprised she would try to pull back from their relationship. She’d agreed to his protection, and for now, that was enough. On the drive back to the ranch, he listened as she called the principal and arranged for an emergency leave of absence and then insisted she put it on speaker when she pressed the number for her Witness Protection contact. They indulged in a bit of a pissing contest, but he and Agent Summers came to a grudging agreement when Leslie spoke up with another provision, tacking on a two-week limit to her stay. By the time he drove through the gates onto his land, he could tell by her set face she wouldn’t budge on that.

“How far back does your property extend?” she asked as he pulled in front of the house.

“Farther than you can see. Don’t worry,” he added, seeing the look of consternation crossing her face. “I stand by what I said and told Agent Summers. You’re safe here, I’ll see to it.” Leaning across the seat, he cupped her nape and drew her forward for a deep, possessive kiss.