What Happens at the Ranch... Page 17

  “I’m flying out tonight. But before I left, I wanted to thank you for...” Don’t say rescue, she warned herself. It would only remind them both of how much she’d needed saving and skew the already uneven power balance between them. At the same time, she truly was grateful to him. “I wanted to thank you for everything. I know that you gave up so much in your personal life to stay on longer at the ranch. I also know you had to deal with a lot of teasing with that whole Agent Steamy thing.”

  “That’s part of the job description,” he replied, and her chest sank from the hollowness of his words. At least he hadn’t said that he’d been paid for putting up with her. That would’ve been more insulting than anything.

  Closure, she reminded herself. Tie those loose strings. She inhaled and continued. “Anyway, I know we talked about what would happen between, uh, us when you were officially off duty. But I don’t want you thinking that I’m going to hold you to that.”

  “Don’t worry.” His eyes turned to a stormy gray as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I copy you loud and clear.”

  Reaching out, she placed her palm on his forearm and felt his muscles flinch underneath. Great, now she’d insulted him. She dropped her hand. “I’m not saying that the attraction is no longer there. I just need to be smarter about how I act upon it.”

  Grayson’s eyes scanned the room, always on the alert. “Perhaps the smart thing to do would be for you not to act on that attraction at all.”

  “Possibly,” she admitted, realizing that maybe his own attraction was waning now that he no longer had to swoop in and play the hero. “The thing is, not only am I still grieving, I also just came out of a very public breakup. Even though it was a long time coming, if people think I jumped from one relationship to another, they’ll be questioning my emotional state.”

  “We certainly can’t have that.” He stared at his watch, as though he was already bored with the conversation. “Is there a public relations person for ending things with the bodyguard, as well? Because I don’t know if I can take another meeting with your mother and Sonya What’s-Her-Name, no matter how hot the kisses are between us.”

  Tessa’s brows slammed together, but before she could respond, there was a loud knock outside the bunkhouse. Agent Doherty cracked the door and yelled inside, “Briefing starts next door in thirty seconds.”

  She couldn’t promise that their attraction would last once they left Wyoming. Even if it did, she couldn’t promise that any sort of physical relationship would be worth the price they’d both have to pay publicly. So Tessa held her tongue as she followed him to the conference room.

  Luckily, she didn’t have to promise him anything. Her flight left before she got the chance to see Grayson again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Grayson flew back to Washington, DC, for a formal debriefing with his entire unit. As SAIC Simon had predicted, the internal affairs department wanted to review the incident at Roper King’s funeral, the one that had led to Grayson meeting Tessa.

  He had to sit through several interviews and at least two screenings of the video of Tessa lambasting him over his procedure. The inquiry board informed him they’d let him know the results of their investigation when it was completed. Of course, there was no time frame for how long that might take, but Grayson took solace in the fact that he was being allowed to operate with Delta Team’s protective detail while he awaited their decision.

  Grayson enjoyed two days’ leave with Maddie and his mom before being called back for another assignment. This time, his team was traveling to Philadelphia to protect a group of foreign heads of state sightseeing the birthplace of Independence.

  The dignitaries and their aides had their own security teams and all were staying on the top floor of the Ritz-Carlton. The Secret Service agents were a secondary line of defense and their RON—remain overnight—status meant they were doubling up in rooms on the floor below. Grayson had drawn the short straw and been paired with Doherty, but luckily they were working opposite shifts and he didn’t have to put up with the man’s snoring. Or his wisecracking.

  Until the night Doherty returned to the room unexpectedly to dress in his undercover clothes.

  “Change of venues tonight,” Doherty said as he stopped at the hallway closet to hang up his suit jacket. “The prime minister’s daughter talked her old man into taking her to a Sixers’ game. If I show up to the arena wearing a button-up shirt and tie, someone might mistake me for one of the coaches.”

  Grayson squinted at Doherty’s five-foot-seven-inch frame. “I’m pretty sure nobody’s going to mistake you for a basketball coach.”

  Grayson lounged on top of the bed, still fully dressed from his earlier shift, waiting for his roommate to finish changing in the bathroom so that he could take a shower. He turned on the television set and half-heartedly began flipping through the channels.

  Grayson froze when he landed on Tessa King’s perfectly polished image on the screen. Her hair was in a tight bun and her makeup was thicker than it had been on the ranch. In fact, she almost resembled a totally different woman than the one he’d spent time with on Twin Kings. He was so focused on analyzing her controlled posture and the way she kept eye contact with the camera that he didn’t even hear what she was saying.

  Unfortunately, he also didn’t hear Doherty exit the bathroom. “You gonna go out tonight or are you just gonna stay in and make cow eyes over your girl, there?”

  “No.” Grayson cleared his throat. “I was actually looking for a local news station, but all the channels on these hotel TVs are never the same. And she’s not ‘my girl.’”

  He aimed the remote control at the screen, but instead of turning it off, he turned up the volume. Tessa’s voice was strong and precise, and sent a wave of awareness through his bloodstream.

  “Right.” Doherty slid his holstered duty weapon onto his old leather belt. “Have you talked to her since Wyoming?”

  “No.” Grayson managed to keep his voice neutral while he fumbled with the remote again until he found the mute button. It wasn’t like Tessa had slipped him her phone number or told him to stay in touch before she’d gone wheels up.

  “Uh-huh. So then you probably don’t know that she’s here in Philadelphia right now?”

  Grayson’s head snapped up. He looked between Doherty and the television that showed her talking, even though he could no longer hear what she was saying.

  “It’s not a live broadcast, Agent Steamy.” Doherty retrieved his Red Sox cap from the top of the dresser. “That episode was prerecorded.”

  “How do you know she’s in Philly?”

  “Because I’m a Secret Service agent and it’s my job to know things.” Doherty straightened his earpiece as he crossed the room to the door. “Plus, I saw her name on the reservation desk’s computer when I ran the guest list against our security threat database.”

  Grayson’s muscles tightened. “You mean she’s staying here at this hotel?”

  “If you’re asking out of a personal interest, then I can neither confirm nor deny that. But if you’re only interested because you feel a certain professional courtesy toward her—say for example you wanted to advise her that the ice machine on her floor was out of order—then I’d tell you she’s in room seven nineteen.” Doherty chuckled knowingly as he walked out the door.

  Grayson jumped to his feet and paced the room, trying not to glance at the hotel telephone on the desk. It had been over three weeks since he’d last seen Tessa. He didn’t dare show up at her room. For all he knew, she could be in town to meet some guy. Grayson wasn’t about to knock on her door only to be greeted by her date. His fingers dug into his palm before his brain reminded him that Tessa King was no longer his concern.

  Although—he allowed his eyes to land on the phone—she’d probably appreciate him calling her to warn her that he was there, as well. Just in case they ran into each ot
her in the lobby or something. He wouldn’t want things to be awkward between them if he caught her by surprise.

  Before he could talk himself out of it, he had the receiver in his hand and punched in seven-one-nine on the number pad.

  It rang twice before she answered. “Hello?”

  Grayson’s heart thumped behind his rib cage. “Miss King?”

  “Who is this?” she asked without confirming her identity. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time someone unexpected had gotten access to her room number.

  “It’s Agent Wyatt.”

  He heard the catch in her breath. “Grayson?”

  So much for keeping things from turning personal. And, really, there was no longer any reason why they needed to maintain that professional boundary. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and decided to leap clear across that once blurry line.

  “Do you want to go get a drink?”

  * * *

  Grayson half expected her to show up in the bright red tailored suit and sleeked-back hair she’d been wearing when she’d been on his TV earlier.

  So, an hour later, when Tessa walked into the nearly empty neighborhood bar down the street from their hotel wearing jeans, riding boots and a soft green knit cap over her loose blond curls, his heart beat faster. Now, this was the relaxed version of Tessa, the one he’d spent so much time with on the ranch.

  “Hey,” he said, rising from his seat.

  He’d hoped the place would have some discreet booths tucked in the back where they could talk privately. Unfortunately, when he’d arrived, his choices had been several vacant stools lining one corner of the massive black-lacquered bar or a handful of tall tables stationed directly in front of the plate-glass windows. Knowing that it could seriously affect their careers if the press caught wind of them being there together, Grayson had chosen the corner where she wouldn’t be on display to anyone passing by outside. Not that many people were out for a casual stroll this late on a blustery February weeknight.

  She must’ve read his mind because she immediately scanned the room as though looking for anyone who might recognize her. It was nearly ten o’clock on a Tuesday night, so the place was empty except for the bartender and a guy in a bright green Eagles hoodie who only seemed interested in the car restoration show on the TV behind the bar.

  Tessa shrugged out of her suede coat and asked, “How’d you find this place?”

  “Doherty recommended it. He makes it a priority to know all of the less conspicuous drinking establishments within a fifteen-mile radius of wherever we’re stationed.”

  She pulled off her knit cap and set it on the shiny bar top before running a hand through her hair. Grayson’s fingers twitched at the memory of touching the same silky strands over a month ago. Thirty-eight days. Not that he was keeping count.

  “So Agent Doherty knows we’re here?”

  Grayson wasn’t about to mention that Doherty was the one who’d casually suggested he contact her. “Let’s just say he’s a wealth of information when it comes to tactical planning and logistics.”

  The bartender took a break from folding white dishrags and asked for their order. The woman was older, with a stocky build and a disinterested expression. She reminded him of Gunnery Sergeant Haggerty, his senior drill instructor who’d seen everything but, because he’d been closing in on retirement, hadn’t wanted to write up any reports.

  If the bartender recognized Tessa King, she didn’t let on. Grayson passed the woman a twenty-dollar bill and murmured, “Thanks,” after she handed them their drinks.

  He nodded at Tessa’s plain-looking vodka and soda before picking up his own pilsner. “No beer for you tonight?”

  “Nope.” She took a careful sip. “It goes down too easily and I wanted to make sure I have a clear head.”

  Dread crawled through his chest as he waited for her to politely tell him that what had happened between them on the ranch was a one-off. That their fleeting attraction had been the result of forced proximity. But she didn’t say anything else.

  The guy at the other end of the bar paid his tab and left. The bartender asked if they needed anything before she stepped out back for a smoke. And still, he and Tessa sat there quietly as though neither one of them knew what to say to the other. Maybe having those boundaries of him being on assignment had actually made them both feel safer. Like they could dip their toes in the water, but always had a built-in excuse for why they couldn’t fully immerse themselves.

  “Are you in Philadelphia for work?” he finally asked, wondering if things were this awkward between Freckles and Rider King when they’d seen each other again. Probably not.

  Tessa nodded. “I’m following a lead on a story about election fraud in the next county over. Investigative journalism isn’t really my thing, but the whistleblower claimed he’d only talk to me. According to my producer, all that media coverage following my dad’s funeral put me in a more sympathetic light and made me seem more approachable.”

  He finished his icy beer quickly, washing down the memory of Davis Townsend telling Tessa she was a cold, cutthroat bitch. When Grayson had intervened, he’d been hoping the congressman would resist the directive to walk out of the stables, thereby requiring a forced escort.

  He flexed his fingers after he set down his empty glass. “I’m glad things are working out for you. Careerwise.”

  “How about you?” She pivoted slightly on her bar stool. “What brings you to Philadelphia?”

  He explained that he was on a protective detail with some foreign dignitaries, but didn’t give any specifics.

  “So you’re back on the job.” Tessa studied him. “I’m glad all that business in Wyoming didn’t get you into any hot water with your bosses.”

  “Well, the inquiry board is still investigating.” It helped that none of the Kings had filed a formal complaint. “So they haven’t taken my badge yet.”

  “Speaking of your badge...” She took another sip of her drink before moving in closer. Her knee glazed against his and his pulse skyrocketed. “You told me there would come a time when you were no longer on duty.”

  There was no mistaking the intent in her eyes. It had been the exact same look she’d given him on Pine Top Point. Just like then, his desire threatened to consume him. Unlike then, though, he no longer had to fight to control it. Anticipation raced through him as he flashed a wide grin.

  “I am definitely off duty. At least, where you’re concerned.” He placed his hands on either side of her face and pulled her mouth against his. He stroked his tongue against her lips and when she opened up to him, he kissed her slowly and thoroughly—not caring about his promise to her that the next time they got physical, she could be in the driver’s seat.

  Later on, they’d have all the time in the world to take turns being in control.

  “Grayson?” She pulled back, her lips already swollen and her eyelids half-closed. “Take me back to the hotel.”

  * * *

  Tessa’s pulse pounded in her ears as she rode the elevator alone to her room. Although Grayson was technically off his shift, he explained that he still had to keep a low profile while inside the hotel and would follow her using the service elevator.

  It was for the best, she reminded herself as her fingers drummed against the brass handrail. Neither one of them wanted to risk being seen together in the lobby. Scratch that, Tessa thought as the number for her floor lit up and the doors opened. Being seen in public with Grayson wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. For her, at least. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Grayson that the public’s perception of her had changed after the pictures of them together had surfaced.

  Tessa let herself into her room and barely had enough time to shrug out of her coat before there was a discreet knock on the door. Grayson stood in the hallway in his jeans and a snug black T-shirt under an open shearling-lined coat, his gaze just as int
ense as it had been at the bar. All the blood rushed to her head and she braced her hand on the doorjamb to steady herself. This is really happening.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, concern immediately replacing the passion in his expression.

  “Grayson...” She moved to the side, refusing to let her knees buckle as she held the door open for him. “I’m no longer the damsel in distress. You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves.”

  “Good.” He dipped his head as he passed through the open door, dragging his eyes down the length of her and then back up. As though he was calculating which part of her body he wanted to caress first. “Because the wait nearly killed me.”

  The next thing she knew, the door whooshed closed with a definite click and her shoulder blades were arching into the entryway wall. Her arms circled his neck and his hands followed the outline of her curves until settling under her rear end. He barely had to apply any upward pressure and she was lifting her legs, wrapping them around his waist as he thrust his tongue deeper into her mouth.

  He groaned and pressed closer. Using his body to brace Tessa against the wall, he peeled his hands away from her butt long enough to shrug out of his jacket. She took the opportunity to tug on the soft cotton fabric between his shoulder blades and pulled the T-shirt over his head.

  The motion broke their kiss, but it also allowed him to return the favor. Grayson made quick work of her sweater and the camisole underneath. She leaned forward so that he could access her bra clasp and he secured her hips under one forearm as he set her aching breasts free.

  He kissed her again, their bare chests coming together. She moaned as tingling sensations shot through her tightly budded nipples. Recklessness coursed through her and she slid her hands over the smooth, warm ridges of his biceps, pulling him in even tighter so that she could fuse the heat of her skin with his.

  Tessa had always been so precise, so careful, so controlled. She needed to let go and Grayson was only too willing to oblige her. She nipped at his lower lip and said, “Take me to the bed.”