Anne Duquette - Her Own Ranger

In fact, there hadn’t been much romance for either of them. Their work left little opportunity to meet potential lovers—or spouses. Josh had been married briefly, in his thirties; Alisha had experienced a few short-term affairs. That was it. Not much success on the romantic front, she thought, resigned as always. She did have regrets about it, though, especially now, with her career about to end.

Alisha patted her hair one last time. She intended to enjoy tonight. She’d be eating dinner with new people at an actual table instead of over a campfire. Carson was a handsome man. With luck, he and his cousin would provide interesting dinner conversation. And she’d have a chance to get better acquainted with Adoette, a good idea if they were going to be spending the next few weeks together.

She left her room and, on impulse, skipped the elevator for the grand staircase. The hotel-casino complex took up more horizontal than vertical space. She knew that was because skyscrapers were rare along the coast with its porous limestone bedrock. The building was carefully designed to bring the vivid greens and blues of the outside in, creating an attractive sense of openness.

Alisha went past the casino entrance to the slot machines, crowded with people dressed in swimsuits, jeans shorts and T-shirts. Beyond, she noticed the more high-stakes gambling areas, where quiet men and women dressed in formal clothes sat at games tables presided over by tuxedoed dealers.

She smiled as she continued walking, not breaking stride. The background cacophony of whistles, gongs and excited chatter was no temptation for her. Gambling in general paled in comparison to the safaris she’d been on. As for high-stakes games...

I’ve played the real thing.

The hotel had several bars, and Josh’s instructions led her to a lovely indoor oasis set far from the casinos and overlooking a spectacular view. Florida bloomed with the fullness of summer. The oranges and yellows of late sunset could still be seen in the west. She paused, unable to pass such beauty. Seconds later, she was rewarded as a flock of snowy egrets lifted off the wetlands. Wings open, they rose from the Everglades to roost in trees, secure from the night’s predators. The sun glinted off the water and the birds’ wings, turning them into a surrealistic fantasy of gold.

The sight was spectacular. She continued to bask in the pleasure of it as she approached the maitre d’.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Jamison. Your party is waiting. Please, follow me.”

Time for pleasure—and for business. Time to find out exactly what Carson Ward’s hiding.

CHAPTER FOUR

“OOH, LA LA, is THAT HER?” Ray asked as a woman in a black gown and fitted jacket approached their table. “She—” His comments were cut short by Adoette’s elbow jab to his side.

“Ray, don’t embarrass me,” Adoette warned. “Hush and stand up.”

Carson was already on his feet. He pulled out Alisha’s chair, then took her arm when she approached.

“Good evening, Alisha.”

“Carson. Adoette, you look lovely.”

“This is Ray Weaver, my cousin,” Carson said. “He works here at the casino.”

Ray took Alisha’s hand and gallantly kissed it before Carson seated her.

“Welcome to Florida.” Ray added a string of compliments that caused Adoette to droop and Carson to seethe. Carson noticed that Alisha didn’t seem impressed by Ray’s flattery—which, he had to admit, pleased him.

“I’m not as gorgeous as Adoette,” Alisha said lightly. “What a beautiful gown! Only someone as young and stylish as you could carry that off. I envy you.”

Adoette brightened. “Why, thank you! I—it’s new,” she stammered. “Do you really like it?”

“That color suits you perfectly,” Alisha complimented.

Adoette wore a lime-green slip dress, a tight sheath slit up the side. It left nothing to the imagination, and Carson felt uncomfortable seeing so much of his friend in it. A pair of panty hose seemed to be all she had on underneath, while every line of her body was visible through the thin, clingy material. It wasn’t the kind of outfit he’d choose for his woman—if he had one.

Strangely, or perhaps not so strangely, Carson found Alisha’s outfit much more exciting. He wanted to peel off those layers to discover what lay beneath, a reaction Adoette couldn’t possibly evoke in her dress.

Conversation switched to casual comments about the fine quality of the house wine—which Alisha regretfully passed up due to her medication, although she blamed jet lag—the local landscape and the casino business until their food was served. Then Alisha introduced a more personal topic.

“I’m still bothered about your fax,” she said to Carson. “Care to explain the tribal council’s change of heart?”

“Certainly. But first you tell me why you chose this place,” Carson said. He knew he’d have to confront the issue; it might as well be now.

Alisha’s fork hovered over the fresh grilled marlin. “I specialize in documenting dangers to human life and wildlife...especially from poaching. Josh suggested the Everglades after hearing about your father’s tragedy last summer. He was murdered by alligator poachers, I understand. My condolences to you and your family, by the way.”

“How did you learn about it?” Carson asked.

“Josh has family in this area.” She leaned closer to Carson. “The Seminole population here numbers about twelve hundred. Violent incidents like murder can hardly be hidden in a community that small. There were articles in the local papers, as well. His brother forwarded some to him. Josh originally thought we could cover gator poaching and its consequences—including murder.”

“I’ll help you as much as I can,” Carson said before taking another bite of fish.

“But why? We understood your reluctance to cooperate last summer. Such a topic would be painful in a very personal way. Plus, with the ongoing investigation...”

“It’s been a year. I’ve rethought my position.”

“Have you captured the poachers since we last talked?”

“Well, let’s just say if there is a problem, it’s nothing for you to worry about,” Ray cut in.

Dammit, Ray, now you’ve given her a reason to worry—and that patronizing tone won’t sit well with any woman. Especially this one.

He was right. It didn’t.

“So you haven’t caught the poachers.” Alisha turned toward Adoette. “I need to know what’s going on. Adoette, what can you tell me?”

“Nothing...nothing! I mean, I—” She switched to Seminole. “Shouldn’t we tell her about the poachers?”

Ray suddenly pulled Adoette away from the table. “Let’s dance.” Alisha and Carson were left alone.

“It seems you’ll have to tell me what Adoette knows about poachers.”

“You speak Seminole?” he asked, amazed.

“No, but Josh and I do our research. You’d be surprised what I pick up. I can say poacher in twenty-three languages.”

She’s furious! He saw it in her eyes, her mouth, the tight neck muscles.

“Are you going to fill me in, or am I leaving?”

Carson’s smile was equally tight. “Okay, I’ll fill you in.” So much for keeping any secrets from her. He told her about the poachers, his own shooting, his plan. Everything.

When he finished—silence. The waiter approached with the dessert menu. Alisha waved him away. Carson’s patience ran out.

“Well? Will you help us or not?”

“Help a man who deceived me? Who intended to go on deceiving me, despite the presence of armed criminals? Men who shoot to kill?”

“That,” he said, “is not an answer.”

She swiveled toward the massive picture windows, her profile expressionless. When she faced him again, the anger under control, her gaze distant, whatever hope he’d had vanished.