“And exactly what are you doing up here, Brittany Lucas?”
She frowned. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“Sometimes the obvious is too obvious.”
“What?” He’s talking in riddles. “Who are you?”
“I’ll ask the questions. Where’s your permit?”
“Permit?”
“Your park registration.”
“But…I don’t…” Confusion robbed her of words. The ranch had unlimited access to the park. She shifted to relieve the discomfort of his hard body pressing hers into the equally unyielding ground. The cold seeped through her sweatshirt, into her bones.
“You don’t what?” His gaze bore into hers. “Don’t want us to know you’re here, that you’re breaking the law and aiding in the destruction of protected animals?”
The accusation raised her eyebrows. “You think I’m a poacher?”
His lips curled upward with a hint of malice. “A pretty thing like you wouldn’t actually do the killing, but you’re a good diversion.”
She gave a short laugh of disbelief. “Oh, please.”
“You sure ran fast enough.”
“Because I thought you were one.”
“And what do you know about poaching?”
“Only that there have been rumors around town. I swear, I’m just up here camping for the weekend.”
“Right.”
She drew in a breath to hold her rising temper. “Obviously you’re new here. Maybe we should start over. What’s your name?”
“Ranger Morgan.”
He said it as if talking to a child, and she would’ve smiled if he hadn’t still been stretched on top of her. She was becoming aware of things she didn’t want to become aware of. And he’d said she was pretty.
“Well, Ranger Morgan, I would really appreciate it if you’d get off me.”
He didn’t move.
“I am not going to run again,” she promised, hoping her rising desperation sounded more like exasperation. “The only reason I did the first time is because I saw your gun when you were going through my things, and I was afraid you might try to…um…”
Her hesitation seemed to clue him in. His eyebrows drew together as his gaze flicked downward. For a brief moment, his grip tightened on her wrists, then he released her arms and pushed to his feet.
Ignoring his outstretched arm, she stood on her own before brushing off her hands on the seat of her jeans while turning to see Paelo still waiting for her. She called him with a soft command and the stallion moved over to her. Rubbing her palms up along his velvety muzzle, she snuck a glance at the ranger to find him watching her horse with open amazement.
He’d secured his gun in a side holster on his belt, but rested his hand on the butt of the weapon, as if ready to draw at a seconds notice. His gaze shifted back to her, his expression grim once more. “Why are you up here?”
“I thought we covered that already.”
“Let’s assume I choose to believe you’re telling the truth. This is still a restricted area. Permits are required for camping.”
“So you’ve said.” Paelo returned to grazing, so she turned to face the ranger and explain exactly why she didn’t have an individual permit.
He stepped closer, his finger jabbing toward her through the air. “You may think you’re above everyone else, but spoiled little rich girls need to register just like the rest of the common folk.”