Chapter Three #2
Sinead could get her lawyer to comb over the contract with Black Heart Security that she’d verbally consented to, but that would mean more time and trouble than it was worth.
She had gotten the last word with Hawk, but even that didn’t leave her feeling good about the meeting.
Fact was, she didn’t know who had followed her into the woods or what they were after. Maybe some locals believed they had a stake on the land that didn’t belong to them, and they were prepared to drive her off.
She also knew how her father operated—and he never would have sent her out there if it wasn’t important.
But life-or-death important? She wasn’t sure anymore.
The only thing she knew with certainty? She was stuck with her bodyguard.
He sat behind the wheel of the truck, navigating the back roads and rugged mountain terrain like it was second nature.
Out of the corner of her eye, she studied him. He sat upright without a wince at whatever pain he might be feeling from that snakebite, though she suspected the only thing wounded was his pride.
She couldn’t blame him, but she’d only shot the snake because his hand was too unsteady and having the snake in hand could save his life.
She went over the steps the Black Heart Security team laid out for her.
First, collect her vehicle. After that, Hawk would drive her to her hotel, where she would gather her belongings.
Then they would return to the ranch and Sinead would be placed under Hawk’s guard until they learned who those men stalking her were.
The Wyoming landscape slid past, the road spilling out ahead of them and the mountains rising blue-gray on either side. Sinead watched the trees blur past the window and let herself finally ask the question she’d been avoiding since the reading of the will.
What had her father actually sent her into?
Everything the man had done had a purpose. Every meeting, phone call and decision made behind his office door had a reason behind it, even when nobody else could see the benefit until years later.
He wouldn’t have sent her into those woods for nothing.
She expected buried documents about a Wyoming property, not men with rifles. Not two bodies left behind on a ridge before nine o’clock in the morning.
She peered sideways at Hawk. He flicked a glance at the mirrors—left, right, rearview.
It wasn’t the idle look of a man who was simply driving.
Check left, check right, check behind them.
A few seconds later, he did it again.
Paranoia made her jerk her attention to the side mirror. When she saw nothing behind them but the land and sky, relief made her stomach drop.
Several miles later, she realized he was on high alert, just like in the woods. And—she noted with irritation—it was…
A little bit attractive.
She let herself study him properly for the first time. Not the once-over she’d given him when he approached or when he was lying on the ground thinking he was about to die.
She really looked at him.
One hand was loose on the wheel, his fingers long and tapered. The backs had a sprinkle of light hair. And the tendons in his forearm flexed every time the road demanded he correct the course of the truck.
His angled jaw had a permanent set, making her wonder if he ever relaxed. He wore a cowboy hat, but a few wisps of sun-streaked dark blond hair over his forehead made her think about brushing them away. And the shadow of stubble along his jaw made him look like he’d been up since long before dawn.
His physique didn’t come from a gym membership, that much was obvious.
He’d built those broad shoulders by actually requiring strength for hauling around humans, or maybe bombs.
He sat squarely behind the wheel, shoulders as wide as the seat and his bulky bicep pushed across the console into her space.
Still doing that thing with his eyes—checking mirrors, checking the road, all without breaking rhythm. It was irritating, the way he made danger seem as normal as the weather. Just a thing to keep track of.
She understood this brand of nonchalance, because—annoyingly—she was the same way.
She sat in board meetings with investors and told them not to panic at every downturn in the market, that it would recover within days. Even when nothing was guaranteed, she knew overreacting only made situations worse.
Her little problem with the shooters was the same. Nothing to fear. Just two guys in the woods who probably thought they were taking care of a trespasser.
She let out a low sigh. She couldn’t keep lying to herself.
This wasn’t the same as volatile markets at all. Nothing about the incident on Timberline Ridge was normal, which was the reason she called for help in the first place.
She darted another sidelong glance at Hawk, and a different kind of sigh escaped her.
The man was…
Did he have to be so damn handsome? It would be easier if he didn’t radiate the kind of competence that made her stomach wobble in a spot she refused to name.
As they drove through rugged backcountry to the resort where she was staying, he didn’t speak, only remained on the lookout, a silent sentry that rattled her more than she cared to acknowledge.
When he turned onto the manicured drive lined with aspens leading to the resort, Hawk slowed. The building came into view—all timber and glass, low and sprawling. She knew what a night here cost, but even if she didn’t, the architecture said it all.
He took it in, and she waited for a comment that never came until he parked in front of the grand entrance.
“Of course this is where you’ve been staying.”
She blinked at him. “What of it?”
He met her stare. Across the cab of the truck, even his intense gaze seemed larger than life. “The most expensive place in the state with a spa and five-star dining, and you’re out digging holes at daybreak.”
She issued a sound of annoyance and reached for the door handle.
He didn’t say anything more until they were in her room. While he made himself a human wall by the door, she gathered her things quickly.
But his eyes tracked over her single suitcase with the same wary attention he’d given the road on the drive here.
He darted a look at the empty closet. “No evening gowns?”
She pressed down on her suitcase to latch it. “No.”
“Red-soled shoes? No jewels in the safe?”
“The shoes don’t go with this outfit.” She set the suitcase on the floor without looking at him. “And I left my Cartier watch in Boston and my Hope Diamond in a safety deposit box.”
He didn’t respond, but something shifted in his eyes, a quiet recalibration she couldn’t name, as if he was rearranging a picture of her he’d already half-drawn and found it didn’t fit the frame anymore.
She’d spent her entire life battling misconceptions about her worth, including from her father, who got a daughter instead of a son.
She’d carried that silent disappointment her whole life. Even if he never spoke the words aloud, it shaped every meeting she ever walked into, every glance from board members who’d expected a man to be sitting in her chair.
Well, she might not be a boy, but she still had value. She was a Winthrop, dammit.
Long after they got back on the road, she was rigid in her seat, still stewing over Hawk’s perception of her.
The miles back to the Black Heart Ranch sped by in a blur, but the words inside her were sharp and pointed.
“I’m more than you think I am,” she muttered, half to the window, not meaning to say it aloud.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” She straightened and composed her expression. “Just thinking.”
Luckily, Hawk let it go and returned to his vigilant watch over the road. Sinead let her mind drift back to her father.
Whatever was buried out there in the mountains, her father had trusted her—not the board, not the lawyers—to be the one who found it.
That had to count for something.
Hawk’s phone buzzed. He answered on speaker without slowing the truck. “Hawk.”
“It’s Gray. Facial recognition came back on your two guys from the ridge.”
She gripped the seat, heart slamming faster despite Gray’s brisk, businesslike tone.
“We’re a mile out from the ranch. We’ll meet you in the office.” Hawk swung his head to meet her stare.
Three heartbeats pulsed between them before he returned his attention to the road.
He hadn’t asked for the names, and she couldn’t shake the feeling he was shielding her from whatever waited until they reached the security office.
She watched the big metal gates rise up, the ones she’d driven through earlier with what she thought was a sick man in the back seat and a dead snake. Back then, she’d only felt relief.
Now, as Hawk guided them through the opening, she had the uneasy feeling this was the last calm moment before someone kicked the door in on her life.