Linda Conrad - The Gentrys - Cinco

She straightened in her seat and glanced out the passenger window to keep from saying something she might regret. His words flashed her back to a time long ago when her father, Rear Admiral Stanton Powell, had said much the same thing, over and over again.

She gritted her teeth and tried to forget how she’d learned what he’d really meant by that. How he taught her to be a good little soldier—or else. How he’d never let her properly grieve over her mother’s death, or any of the many other nightmarish memories she’d done her best to put behind her now that he was dead.

Shaking her head softly to clear it, she wondered why in the world those old nightmares had come back to her at this moment. She sneaked a glance at the handsome cowboy in the driver’s seat. He was not her father.

She still wasn’t exactly sure who Cinco was inside, but she was positive that he was only interested in her safety—not really trying to control her life. She had to find a way to deal with her temporary situation and not take out frustrations or deep-seated fears on the man who didn’t seem any happier about her being here than she was.

Turning to face forward, she saw steam begin to blow out from under the hood. Well, that didn’t take as long as she’d thought it would. Within a few seconds the billowing clouds of steam covered the windshield and forced Cinco to bring the truck to a stop at the side of the road.

He didn’t look at her, but opened his door and stepped to the ground. “Sit tight. I’ll see what’s wrong.”

No chance of that. She counted to ten then climbed out, walking to the lifted hood and the puzzled-looking man who stood gazing at the engine, scratching the back of his neck.

Cinco narrowed his eyes at her. “I see you mind real well, Captain Frosty. You must realize it’s past time for you to start doing what I say.”

He flung his arm in a huge arch. “We’re not protected out here. There could be a sniper just waiting for you to be out in the open.”

She rolled her eyes and tsked at him. Tsked at him, for God’s sake!

“All right,” he conceded. “Maybe that’s a little farfetched, but I’m the security specialist, not you. It’s my job to keep you safe while you’re under my protection.” He gave up on the steaming engine and reached for his mobile phone. “I’ll just call the ranch. Someone should be able to come for us shortly. Meanwhile you can wait in the pickup.”

Meredith moved around him and peered down at the errant machinery under the hood. “Mind if I take a look first?”

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