Tina Leonard - Branded by a Callahan

She nodded. “Okay. Good night.”

He stared after her as she passed into the hallway. He heard her sandals on the marble floor.

“Drooling is only cute when babies do it,” Ashlyn told him, giving him a nudge. “Need a bib?”

He probably was drooling. Turning back to the dishes, he put them in the dishwasher. “Not sure there’s a bib big enough.”

His sister looked up at him. “You know, you can treat Ana like she’s a normal girl, not some kind of princess you have to put in an ivory tower. I have it on good authority that she doesn’t bite.”

“She might.” Dante didn’t care how much his sister ribbed him about Ana—he might be slow in his windup, but eventually, he’d work his way into the game. “Don’t think it’s escaped my attention that you, little sister, are working on quite the unrequited thing for one of the owners of this compound, and everybody’s favorite canyon-riding cowboy, Xav Phillips.”

Ash glared at him. “Am I supposed to say ouch?” She tossed her head. “At least I would kiss Xav if he got close enough. Ana saved you. The least you can do is put down the barbed wire fence.”

He grunted, wondered about Tighe. Why had Ana asked about his twin?

“The kids love her,” Ash said, washing out some glasses. “I bet Ana will make a wonderful mother.”

He blinked. “Is she going to be a mother?”

“Maybe.”

Ash didn’t clarify, and he wasn’t about to give her anything else to rib him about by asking. He had to go with the flow around here, especially where Ana was concerned, or he’d end up a laughingstock.

Ash sighed. “Did you at least thank her for saving you?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll thank her for saving my big brother,” Ash said. “I appreciate what she did. If people aren’t acknowledged when they do a good job, sometimes they find another employer.”

He got the hint and decided not to encourage his sister. “I’ll let you finish up here.”

His sister snapped his butt with a dish towel as he departed. “Good night, dear brother.”

He went out to the guest quarters, which consisted of three bedrooms and a small kitchenette. This is where he was bunking—and tonight, the sniper was also taking up one of the rooms, sleeping off the effects of the tranquilizer, which the doctor said wouldn’t last forever. They hadn’t gotten much out of the man because he mostly wanted to snooze, but one thing was clear: he didn’t want to go to a hospital. Said he’d be fine sleeping outside. They’d stuck him out here with Dante, who was fine with checking on him occasionally.

Thing was, without the sniper on the roof of the compound, they were pretty much without cover. Someone had known the sniper was there—and had taken him out with enough tranquilizer to give an elephant a bit of a Rip van Winkler. Dante went into his room, his thoughts in a snarl, trying to make sense of the whole thing—but his brain stopped cold when he flipped on the light and saw the gorgeous blonde in his bed. Sound asleep, looking like an angel.

Holy smokes, what was he supposed to do with this?

He turned the overhead light off. Pondered his next move. Clearly Ana hadn’t wanted to sleep in the main house. Did she have the night off? He supposed she must have. After one black martini with a floating eyeball in it, was he relaxed enough to take advantage of the heavenly gift in his bed?

Absolutely not.

Dante felt like he was sneaking around in his own room. Maybe she’d been scared, and didn’t want to be alone.

Nah. Ana hadn’t been the least bit intimidated.

Maybe he should just turn around, walk back through the door, forget what he’d seen. Pretend he’d felt better sleeping in the main house tonight—

The lamp beside the bed turned on, and Dante’s throat went dry as an old bone in the desert. Ana looked at him, her gaze curious.

“Hi, cowboy.”

Long blond hair draped silkily over one shoulder. She hadn’t changed out of her purple scrubs, but the cork sandals lay on the floor beside her.

Okay, gifts this good didn’t just drop into his life. There was a trap, he just couldn’t see it. His concentration was shot, and any warning system he’d ever possessed that normally blared caution in a danger zone had surrendered. “Howdy, nurse,” he finally said, trying to play it cool. “I do believe you’re in the wrong bed.”

“Maybe,” Ana said. “But I hope not.”

He couldn’t mistake the soft invitation, nor the smoke in those emerald eyes. The lady was offering, and all he had to do was get rid of the barbed wire fence Ash claimed he was hiding behind. “All right,” he said, his voice husky, his throat a bit stiff for some reason. “You tell me what you want, lady, and I’ll see if I can accommodate you.”

Safe enough. Let her state her mission—maybe she was only scared, after all—and he’d see if he could help her out.

She turned out the lamp. He heard sheets rustle, and the next thing he knew she was moving into his arms. Her lips found his, and it was everything Dante had ever imagined kissing Ana would be like: soft, sweet, powerful.

He didn’t ask any questions. He hung on like he’d hung on to Firefreak, praying he didn’t hit the ground too soon.

“I’m going to get a little more comfortable,” she said, moving out of his arms, “maybe you will, too.”

She went into the bathroom, closed the door behind her. His heart thundered like mad, a haze practically shutting down his brain. After all the months of longing, he was going to find himself holding the most beautiful woman in the world.

He pulled off his boots, kept his jeans and shirt on just in case the invitation got jerked away from him at the last minute. Waited in the dark, his body taut with anticipation.

The bathroom door opened, and he heard soft footsteps approach the bed. It was too dark for him to get the full effect, but maybe she was shy about him seeing her in the dark. Wouldn’t matter. He’d run his lips over every inch of that long, slinky body, and he’d have no problem whatsoever seeing everything he wanted to with his hands.

Something soft brushed his face, molded over his nose and mouth with a strange scent—but by then it was too late for Dante to react, even as his last thought was that the world’s most beautiful angel had just played him like the queen of hearts.

Chapter Three

Bumps and jolts jarred Dante painfully awake. Opening his eyes, he stared at a dark sky overhead, felt the cold of a truck bed beneath him as it trundled over ruts on what was obviously a country road. His hands and ankles seemed bound together—make that were bound. His boots lay near his head, confirming that he’d been hijacked.

Last night’s sudden and sweet seduction had been nothing but a sham. Ana St. John was a spy, a double-crosser in the first degree. He could see it all clearly now: she’d been working with whoever had taken out the sniper, and she’d followed Dante to the front door to pretend to save him Halloween night, throwing off suspicion.

All the while she’d been planning his downfall with a body made to stun. Like Samson cut down by Delilah, Dante had allowed Ana to blind him to common sense.

Love did indeed stink to high heaven.

A particularly vicious rut sent him bouncing skyward, and something moaned—not him. Glancing across the truck bed, he saw Ana in pretty much the same condition as he, only she had on less clothes to keep out the November chill. She, too, was bound, still wearing her scrubs, though the cork sandals didn’t appear to have made the trip.

Dante was cheered by her presence, but he also felt like a louse. Being happy when one’s object of desire was trussed up like a chicken, obviously being kidnapped along with him, was the mark of a truly pathetically gone heart.