The Specialist. Dani Sinclair

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СКАЧАТЬ was going to have a bruise! In fact, she might just have loosened a couple of his teeth—but he’d be hung before he’d admit that out loud.

      “My partner, huh?” He surveyed her lanky, boyish build beneath the dark jacket she wore and the no-nonsense glasses that still hung askew on her narrow face after their tumble. Rafe suddenly found himself wanting to grin. Whoever she was, she was no rustler.

      “Darlin’, most women who want to be my ‘partner’ use a slightly different approach.”

      Her lips thinned in prissy rejection of his attempt to tease. “Not that sort of partner.”

      “Well, I’m not into rustlin’ cattle, darlin’,” he offered.

      “I’m not a cattle thief!”

      “Well certainly not the sort I was expectin’,” he agreed watching her closely. It was difficult to tell in the dark, but he’d swear she was blushing. Now when had he ever seen a grown woman blush? Was she so naive she didn’t realize the risk of running around the countryside in the middle of the night by herself?

      “What are you doing out here at this hour, darlin’?” He took a step in her direction. Instantly, she backed away, almost stumbling over a rock.

      “Stop that!”

      Rafe halted. He was used to a much different reaction from the women he met and he found himself unaccountably irritated by her angry response and this entire crazy situation. Somebody needed to teach Ms. Kendra Kincade that there could be consequences to foolish actions.

      “No call to be shy, darlin’. There’s only you and me and the cattle out here.” He swept his hand to indicate their isolation and caught a glimpse of Whicker munching contentedly on some grass a few yards away.

      “Shy? Why you arrogant—” She fumbled for words, obviously at a loss. “Male,” she finally spit at him.

      Rafe rubbed his jaw where her fist had connected. “Guilty.”

      Her eyes glinted in the moonlight reflected off the unattractive glasses she wore. Any minute now, like a cartoon, steam would pour from beneath the open collar of her jacket. She was too annoyed to be frightened, but she should be frightened. Didn’t she see the risk out here in the predawn morning hours?

      Rafe closed the distance between them. This time, she held her ground. Overhead, clouds parted to let the moon highlight her features.

      Thirtyish, at a guess, though her age was hard to determine for sure. Her brown hair was long and stringy. The ends looked as if she’d taken dull scissors to them. No jewelry, not even a ring. He continued his assessment, waiting for her reaction. Dark jeans hugged a surprisingly nice pair of legs, and a light colored, button-down shirt that he’d already discovered harbored nicely rounded breasts. Her feet had been stuffed into a pair of boots that looked suspiciously new. She had surprisingly small feet.

      “If you’re through with the inventory, you can hold it right there, buster.”

      She might not be much to look at, but she did have spunk, he decided.

      “Buster?”

      She set her jaw, planted her fists on her hips and glared at him. “Your name is Rafael Alvarez,” she snapped out, “but you’re called Rafe. Six feet one inch tall, brown hair, green eyes, half Spanish and half Irish,” she recited. “And all baloney,” she added defiantly.

      “Baloney?”

      “Your parents died in a car crash when you were an infant. Your grandparents raised you until your freshman year of college. Tragically, they died along with a lot of other people in that fire on board the cruise ship Althea.”

      His amusement dissolved at her recital.

      “Their deaths left you alone, but financially secure,” she continued. “You went back to school where you got in with a rowdy crowd. Your sophomore year culminated in your drunken arrest for grand theft auto. A friend boosted another friend’s car before picking you up along with several young females after a party. All of you were drunk and there was beer in the car.”

      Rafe flinched at the memory.

      “Fortunately, the police stopped the driver before anyone was hurt. You spent a full night in jail and hired a high-priced lawyer to avoid serious criminal charges. Apparently, you wised up after that. You dropped your former associates, changed your major and went on to study law, though you never took the bar exam.”

      How did she know all this?

      “That’s enough.” His soft voiced tone would have warned off anyone who knew him. Kendra never batted an eye.

      “Next, you applied to the police academy, but you were too much of a maverick for all their rules and regulations. You dropped out almost right away. Or maybe they suggested you leave. Either way, you did some research of your own. I’m guessing you stumbled over the very quiet, very private organization known as Texas Confidential.”

      Rafe drew in a breath, his body vibrating with sudden tension. “Who are you?”

      “We already covered that. Then—”

      He grabbed her shoulders in a punishing grip. Instantly, he relaxed his hold because she felt astonishingly delicate beneath his broad hands. While he wanted to scare her enough to interrupt her recital, he didn’t want to hurt her. Her eyes widened behind her glasses giving her a frightened, baby owl appearance.

      Rafe gentled his hold even further when she licked her lips nervously. He followed the motion of her tongue, annoyed to notice that she had very nice lips—when they weren’t pursed in disdain.

      “I want to know who you are.”

      “I told you,” she stated boldly, “I’m Kendra Kincade.”

      He crowded her until she was pressed along his jacket. The action defined her slenderness against his much larger masculinity. He watched her eyes widen in final acknowledgment of his size and gender and their isolation. Nearby, a cow snorted at a patch of ground.

      “Who is Kendra Kincade?” he asked softly.

      She lifted her chin a little higher, though she flinched when he took the back of his hand and ran it down the side of her face. He felt her body quiver. The softness of her skin took him by surprise yet again. Her long, unstylish hair tumbled messily about her shoulders while a beguiling scent of shampoo filled his nostrils. She wasn’t his type by a long shot. Still, he found himself aware that she was definitely a woman. That firm round curve of flesh he’d held so fleetingly had left an indelible impression.

      Some of her assertiveness drained away as he continued to hold her shoulders now. She licked her lips once more and planted her hands on her hips. “I told you I’m—”

      “My partner,” he finished for her. Time for her to comprehend the risk she was taking. He trailed his fingers over the curve of her cheek, sliding them along the slope of her neck to where the V of her open jacket revealed the cotton material of her blouse. “But if you know so much about me, you know I prefer selecting my own—partners.”

      Rafe didn’t feel the least bit sorry for using his own brand of intimidation. The woman was playing СКАЧАТЬ