Fake Christmas Date Cowboy, page 11
He swallowed around the dry lump in his throat. “Yes.”
“And the one from the garden too?”
He gave her a sharp look. “What do you know about that?”
Her eyes creased at the corners with a smile she didn’t let come to full realization. “You should get that freckle on your right butt cheek checked.”
“Hell.” Of course there were cameras in the garden. The entire team probably saw the footage of him and Belle on that bench in the falling snow. And they’d laughed at the freckle on his ass.
“It’s not a freckle. It’s a birthmark. And it’s fine.”
She smiled in response.
For all his experience and skill, he hated being seen as the rookie, yet he’d been acting like one. He deserved whatever names he was called.
Madeline suddenly stood. “Get out of that chair, Declan.”
He cocked a brow. “Why?”
“Because I’m taking your shift so you can go to that party with your friend.”
He gaped at her. “Why would you do that?”
“Don’t you want to go?”
Goddamn right he did.
“For the record, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for the new father who’s at the hospital sitting through his wife’s childbirth so they can have a Christmas baby.”
Declan hadn’t felt much camaraderie yet on the WEST team. So far, he felt as if he gained unwanted attention or stood on the outer edge of a brotherhood he didn’t belong in. Even not having a hat bugged the hell out of him.
In the span of a few short minutes, Madeline put him at ease and made him feel that warm friendship.
She jerked her thumb. “C’mon, Declan. Outta that chair before I miss some attack in the barn.”
He rushed out of the seat and stepped aside to allow her to occupy it. Once she sat, he braced a hand and leaned over the desk to catch her gaze. “Thank you.”
“Just make sure to bring your A game to my training. I won’t put up with lazy agents.”
“Not a chance of that.” He strode to the door and took off before Madeline could change her mind about sitting behind a dozen screens, getting a crick in her neck on Christmas Day.
The cold stung his nostrils as he rushed to his truck and leaped behind the wheel.
He had very few minutes before he’d enter that party and face his lover.
Belle.
What would he say to her? How would he explain that he was really undercover and protecting her from something she had never even voiced a fear of?
She fled that barn like a mouse chased by an owl.
How to make it up to her? He’d just have to tell her the truth, but doing so would break the rules. In turn, it would give him a less than favorable reputation.
Hell, the team had all seen his ass while he fucked Belle in the garden. Who gave a damn what they thought? She wasn’t under contract. He wasn’t her bodyguard. Besides, from what Boone said, most of the guys had hooked up in a forbidden manner so they had no room to throw stones.
When he slipped into the barn, he cast a look around the room. White twinkle lights crisscrossed the beams of the ceiling by the thousands, lighting up the space to a rich, warm yellow glow. The scent of cinnamon and pine filled his nostrils.
Since he stood at six feet two, he could easily scan the room. When he picked out Belle’s warm brown hair drawn off her neck in a sweep of curls, his heart clutched.
Would she speak to him? He had to find a way to make her listen.
Before he could take a step to cross the room to her, that asshole ex of hers got there first.
Her spine stiffened.
Ethan leaned in to say something to her.
Declan lengthened his strides, gaze dialed in on the couple rather than the people around him. His shoulder clipped a man’s, and he didn’t bother apologizing—he was locked on a goal.
Ethan’s lips moved.
Then Belle raised her arm, and with lightning speed, slapped him across the face.
Declan closed the gap in two more strides. Planting a hand on her back, he gently guided her behind him and faced down her ex.
“You have something to say to Belle, you can say it to me instead.”
Belle’s shocked gasp sounded behind him. From the corner of his eye, he saw one of the WEST team move in. Declan sliced a hand through the air to indicate he had it under control. His teammate stopped.
Declan took a menacing step toward Ethan. He held his ground.
He had to give the guy credit for being stupider than he imagined. Either that or he had a death wish.
Leveling him in a glare, he said, “Do we understand each other, bud?”
Ethan looked him in the eyes with far too much cocky boldness. “Don’t call me bud.”
“Apologize to the lady.” He reached behind him and clasped Belle’s arm.
She circled him with an indignant tilt of her jaw at Ethan. “Don’t ever speak to me again. If you do, I’ll slap a restraining order on you.”
Ethan released a chuckle that grew into what sounded like a snarl.
Declan pushed Belle behind him again and brought his chest up against the guy’s. “Get the hell out of here. Now. Your festivities have come to an end.”
The sharp pain of nails biting into his hand made Declan smile. His little kitten had her claws out. But he had no doubt that a few soft words would tame her.
Ethan leaned to the side in order to see her. “You’re not even worth it.”
She stepped around Declan again, but he anchored her to his side, his arm banded around her waist. Her body vibrated with anger. Every inch of her curvy body tensed.
Ethan turned and wandered away, as nonchalant as if they’d just discussed their golf handicaps. Declan gave his WEST Protection teammate a sideways look, and the man moved forward at a fast clip to escort Ethan out of the Christmas gala.
Declan watched him go for a moment to make sure he didn’t require backup. Finally, he turned to Belle.
When he saw the fury sparking in her brown eyes, he paused. She was still angry with him. Deserved? Probably. Unfounded? Yes, it was, and she’d see it too once he explained things.
“‘You have something to say to Belle, you can say it to me instead?’” she mocked him in a deeper voice than her own. “I can’t believe you really said that, Declan. You don’t own me. I don’t need a man to stand up for me!”
Several heads turned at the sound of her raised voice. Just then, she started to spin on her heels to make a break for it. But he couldn’t let her go.
He snagged her around the waist and brought her flush against his chest just as another tune started up.
Her grunt of protest didn’t deter him one bit. He dragged her a few feet onto the dance floor and started to sway with her in his arms.
Her eyes shot bullets. “I don’t want to dance with you!”
“Yes, you do.”
She gaped at him. “How did I not see this coming? I always pick the worst men. Here I thought you were sweet and fun and great in bed—”
“You can’t deny that I am great in bed, Belle.”
She opened her mouth to scream, and he cut her off by slamming his mouth over hers. The kiss was hard and hot and carnal. He might as well be fucking her on the dance floor for all the burning passion and desire blazing between them like two fireworks intersecting in the night sky to create one dazzling explosion.
His cock swelled behind his fly, and he tugged her against it.
For a heartbeat, she rocked her hips into him. Then just as quickly, she shoved her palms off his chest and tore away.
He caught up to her at the exit. The very one that they’d escaped from on that first night when he took her in the garden.
Cameras on his birthmark or not, he wanted to get her alone.
She launched through the door. Tonight the snow wasn’t coming down in small, puffy flakes that would catch on her lashes and lure him closer. It was icy sleet flying straight at their faces on a stiff mountain breeze.
She whipped around and almost lost her balance on her high heels.
He caught her. “Belle, stop. Let’s go back inside and talk.”
“So you can force me to dance with you?” she burst out.
“I didn’t even get to show you my moves.”
“The one where you ground your dick into me?”
“Okay, that was less than gentlemanly but goddammit, that ex of yours has me wanting to claim you.”
Her jaw dropped. “I am no prize to be claimed, Declan.”
“No, you’re not a prize. You’re a fucking treasure, Belle. Now please…” He sliced his hand through his hair. “Will you just come back inside with me and give me one dance?”
Chest heaving, she stared at him for interminable heartbeats. “Fine! But only because it’s freezing!”
Gently, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her back inside. “Watch your step on this hardwood. Your shoes will be slippery.”
Without protest, she allowed him to lead her to the dance area again. This time when he took her in his arms, she wasn’t nearly as stiff and robotic.
He stared at her mouth, plump and swollen from being plundered. What the hell had come over him to capture her mouth like he fucking owned it?
Maybe it’s because I would kill for this woman.
The thought hit out of nowhere. It punched the air from his lungs so he had to struggle to fill them again.
Meanwhile, they swirled around the floor. Once he got his breath back, he pressed his palm into her lower back and drew her a step closer. When he took the lead and began revolving around the space like it was a ballroom, she stole a peek at his face.
“I’m going to fall on my face.”
“I won’t let you fall.”
“You won’t have any choice, Declan. Anything that could go wrong with me does. I’ll probably trip and fall on my face and break my nose. Or my orbital bone. I heard that hurts so much worse…”
He pitched his voice low. “I promise I won’t let that happen.”
He trapped her gaze in his—and tumbled even deeper. This woman…Christ, was it just the magic of Christmas making it hard for him to breathe or do anything but think about her?
No. It fucking wasn’t.
He took her by the hand and spun her in a circle before tugging her against his chest again.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re someone important?” she asked.
“Why do you say that?” Now she was onto something. If she could only guess at his role here on the Wynton Ranch, it would make things so much easier.
“Most guys can’t dance like you.”
He cocked a brow. “Most women can’t follow like you do. But you’re not even following. You already know what to do. Why do I get the feeling that you’re someone important?”
She arched a perfect brow in response. “Nope…I’m just Belle.”
They twirled through a bunch of couples who stepped back and applauded them.
“Where did you learn how to dance?” she asked.
“My father was in the military. My mom and I were home alone a lot. So she taught me to dance.”
Her lashes dipped over her blazing eyes. “You’re close to your mother?”
His lips quirked. “I’m a self-proclaimed momma’s boy and proud of it.”
Chapter Twelve
Belle was melting under Declan’s dark gaze that promised endless nights of pleasure—with or without the hay.
And with the idea of this hard man who’d bullied her ex right out of the gala, and hopefully off the ranch too, being a momma’s boy…
God, the way he was looking at her made her insides squeeze over and over again as if gearing up for the orgasm he was practically giving her with his eyes.
“Belle.”
“Oh no. You’re not going to ruin this winter wonderland moment by talking.”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t break into a smile, though his eyes did crease. Damn, they had the yummiest creases that only the hardest of cowboys possessed, the lines they gained from squinting into the sun.
Why did she have to like him so much? Her mind was making up a role for him. An entire personality. He wasn’t who she thought he was. She had no idea who he was.
Except a man who sneaked a weapon into a Christmas getaway against the rules.
“Look, I told you I was in the Rangers.”
She stared at him but didn’t reply.
He sucked in a breath as if understanding her reluctance to listen, but he forged on anyway. “What I didn’t tell you was—”
“Oh my god! Oh no!” The high feminine cry cut him off. He whipped Belle around to get a look at who was screaming.
“My diamond bracelet! Someone stole my diamond bracelet!”
Declan’s hands clamped harder on Belle. “Dammit!” he muttered under his breath.
A couple of the security guards at the party moved toward the woman and started talking to her. Her hysterical cries continued until someone fetched her a chair and she sank into it. The older woman clutched at her bare wrist.
People started searching the floor for the jewelry. The entire dance floor cleared, and Declan towed Belle to the far side of the room with him.
She eyed up the doorway that led to the alcove where the bathrooms were. This was her moment to escape. She didn’t really want to hear what Declan had to say. She’d heard—and seen—enough to know that she didn’t want to be mixed up with him.
She pulled free of his grasp. He tore his stare from what was happening on the dance floor and trained it on her.
“I’m going to powder my nose,” she told him.
Lucky for her, he appeared to be distracted, his attention swaying between the woman with the stolen bracelet and Belle.
She took a step toward the exit. “I’ll be just a minute.”
He let her go.
As quickly as she could go on her high spiked heels held on by tiny slivers of satin strapping, she rushed to the ladies’ room. Before she reached the door, the low clack of high heels brought her head up. She stared at the retreating back of a tall, slender woman with perfect streaky blonde highlights in her light brown hair.
Haileigh.
As she looked on, another door opened down the corridor. An arm snaked out to wave her inside.
Belle’s heart flipped over. Ethan and Haileigh were up to something, and she’d bet anything that it wasn’t a roll in the hay like she and Declan shared. Haileigh entered the room, and the door shut behind them.
Belle threw a look around. The music had stopped, and only a few louder voices carried through the space.
A heist.
A jewelry heist.
That bracelet was gone—stolen—and here was her ex, a known criminal, hiding behind a door.
She inched up to it. It didn’t have a label. It wasn’t a bathroom. What were they doing in there?
She couldn’t hear a thing through the thick wood. She had to alert someone right now. She’d grab one of the security guards and tell them what she’d seen.
Whirling on her heels, she took one step but didn’t get any farther before a blinding pain erupted from the back of her head.
Declan stood in the center of the room and rotated in a slow circle, searching for Belle.
She wasn’t here. Which meant she had slipped through his grasp with that fabricated little tale about powdering her nose. Even though his gut told him that something with her wasn’t right, he’d still let her go, thinking she just needed a minute to regroup.
He stifled a growl. He knew better than to let a ward out of his sight. He didn’t thwart huge terrorist plots singlehandedly by fucking up like this.
The guests had returned to their festivities after that woman calmed down. No one had stolen her bracelet—it fell off at the buffet table. Everyone danced or mingled and nibbled on snacks, but he couldn’t feel further from the holiday spirit.
Belle was missing.
After one more sweep of the room for her, he stalked the perimeter and out into the hallway. The light notes of Christmas tunes followed him to the women’s restroom. Without bothering to alert the occupants inside, he whipped open the door.
Several screams echoed off the rustic tile walls.
“Get out!”
“Pervert!”
He took a second to glance under the stall doors for Belle’s high heels. Then he ducked out.
Next he rushed to the men’s room just in case. Leave no doors unopened. No stones unturned.
She wasn’t there either. The next door was a janitor’s closet containing a mop bucket on wheels and a shelving unit full of cleaning supplies.
Dammit, she must have left the gala. He retraced his steps through the main room of the building. The other exit was closer to the bunkhouse, but he never reached it.
Three of the Wynton brothers clustered around him.
“Did Cinderella run off on you?” Josiah asked.
“Did you find her glass cowboy boot?” Noah quipped.
Irritation sliced across him like a battle wound. “No,” he bit off through a tight jaw. “Belle’s missing.”
Both men stopped. If they hadn’t sobered at the news, he would have kicked the shit out of all of them.
“When was the last time you saw her?” Noah barked out.
“Ten minutes ago. She said she was going to the restroom. I checked, and she’s not anywhere.”
“This may be nothing,” Josiah added, but his nod was a bit too grim.
A low rumble issued from Declan. He took a quick step toward Josiah. “Are you trying to placate me? I will punch your teeth down your throat.”
Noah stepped between them, his arm barring Declan from making good on his promise.
He quivered with rage. And fear. He couldn’t forget the fear.
“Where was the last place you saw her?” Josiah demanded.
“Right here.” He jabbed a finger at the spot where they stood. “Something happened to her.”
“She didn’t look all that happy to be with you, Declan. Did you guys have a fight?”
He couldn’t tell them about his screwup and how he’d pulled his weapon in front of her. That was bad enough. The reason why he hadn’t been thinking straight was even worse.
