Mac watched the last thug stumble out of the valley. He sat down heavily, leaning against a boulder. Exhaustion pulled at him. What a night. Not only had it been dicey to subtly prod four separate, roaming men into heading the right direction, but two of them had practically tripped over Susan. He never, ever, wanted her in danger like that again.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rock, letting fatigue wash over him. What in the world was he going to do with her? One minute she drove him crazy with her fierce independence and the next, drove him crazy with desire.

Face it pal, you’re hosed.

He had learned one important thing about Susan’s pursuers from this night’s work. Ruala’s minions were also serious criminals who’d kill her in a heartbeat. He had to nail them all to ensure her safety.

Some objective operative he was turning out to be, living in a constant state of half panic and full arousal. He grimaced. He’d promised Colonel Foley he could pull off this mission.

First things first. He’d better go get Suzie. She was no doubt scared to death out there by herself. He stood up slowly, stretching out the kinks of a hard night’s work. He made his way silently toward her hiding place. He’d long since figured out her radio was broken, or he’d have called to warn her of his approach. But as it was, he had to sneak up on her and get a hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream if he scared her. Ruala and his men were out of the valley, but not necessarily out of earshot.

Sure enough, she started every bit as badly as he expected when he slapped his hand over her mouth. Poor kid. He picked her up, parachute silk and all, cradling her in his arms. Sleek heat and soft curves curled against him, and despite his exhaustion, his body responded powerfully to her.

He murmured into her silky hair, “I’ve got you. It’s over. The bad guys got tired of playing cat and mouse.”

Her arms looped around his neck, half choking him. He held her close as she sobbed out her fear. He muffled her sounds against his shoulder, soaking up her tears with his black shirt. Each racking breath she took called to something deep within him—an urge to protect her, to surround her, to absorb her entirely into himself. So much for the tough facade she’d worn ever since he arrived at the ranch. His relief was enormous to know that this vulnerable side of Susan still existed within the capable, independent woman she’d become. A guy liked to be needed a little bit, after all.

Finally she lifted her head. Her eyelashes were dark, wet spikes, and tear tracks shone on her cheeks in the first, faint easing of the night into dawn. She gazed up fearfully into his eyes, her heart an open book. “Mac, promise me you’ll never leave me alone again.”

He stared down at her. Many possible layers of meaning to her words leaped into his head. What, exactly, was she asking of him? Was that a simple plea not to be stashed under a rock by herself? Or was it something else? A deeper request not to walk out of her life again? To stand beside her forever?

“Promise me,” she whispered urgently.

“I promise, Suzie.”

The second the words left his mouth, the same questions popped back into his head. Exactly how much had he just promised her, consciously or unconsciously? It felt like a hell of a lot more than not leaving her under a rock.

She hugged him tight, murmuring against his neck, “I’ve never been so terrified in my life. I was so worried about you taking such crazy risks. I saw you jab Ruala’s ankle to make him think a snake bit him…”

She was too scared. It was no good working with panicked civilians. Time to lighten the mood. He grinned down at her. “That was cool, wasn’t it? I’ve always wanted to poke someone like that.”

She frowned. “You’ve been that close to bad guys, before?”

He chuckled. “More times than I can count.”

She shuddered in his arms. He squeezed her close. “I’m still here, aren’t I?” He had to admit it. He liked the way her arms tightened protectively around his neck. “What say we head back to camp, Suz? Dutch says the hostiles have left to go lick their wounds.”

“Will Ruala come after us again?” Susan asked.

“I don’t think he knows what hit him. They’ll spend most of the day trying to figure out what happened. By the time they muster up the nerve to come play again, we’ll be long gone.”

“Won’t they follow us?”

He hesitated. Standard procedure dictated that the civilian under protection be kept calm, relaxed and able to follow instructions. The rule was Never Panic the Protectee. And telling Susan that Ruala most certainly would follow them and try to kill her again would definitely panic her. Damn. He really didn’t want to lie to her. But he couldn’t count how many times he’d heard Colonel Foley say over the years, “Procedures are what they are because they work.”

Mac sighed. And lied reluctantly. “Nah. Ruala and his men won’t mess with us again anytime soon. Don’t you worry about it.”

God, he hated lying to Susan. A lie ten years ago, in the name of following procedure, had cost him her love. Standard ops or not, he didn’t like doing it. You owe me, Foley. I followed your damn procedure again.

He felt her draw breath to question his statement that Ruala would leave her alone. No surprise there. She was smart as a whip. He spoke quickly. “It’s almost sunrise. What say we go catch some shut-eye? We’ll need to ride again tonight.”

That snapped her out of her dangerous train of thought. She lurched upright in his arms. “Gosh, I didn’t even think about the horses! Are they okay? Did those jerks leave them alone?”

“Dutch hid them well. Ruala and his thugs didn’t get anywhere near your babies.”

She sagged in his arms. “Thank goodness.”

He set her down gently. “Let’s go.”

To Susan’s surprise, the walk back to camp took only a few minutes, even at the snail’s pace her knee would tolerate. The joint was stiff and unbendable after the night’s acrobatics. Thankfully, Mac didn’t make a big deal of it; he just kept pace beside her.

She was surprised to see Dutch efficiently taking apart the tent and packing it when they got there. “Why are we breaking camp?” she asked the tall Viking.

Dutch glanced over at Mac, who sent him some sort of hand signal. A slight nod from the blond giant, and then he answered her. “We’re moving. Ruala and company tromped right through here last night and know where to find us.”

Mac asked his partner, “Have you got a new spot in mind?”

Dutch pointed over his shoulder. “There’s a side canyon up that way. It’s where I’ve got the horses stashed. I thought we might park close to them today. Plus, we’ll hold the high ground if it comes to a shoot-out.”

Susan blinked. A shoot-out? As in right out of a bad western movie? This wasn’t happening to her. Any moment now, she was going to wake up from this madness and resume her real life. Her real life. The thought was sobering. This would all go away—Mac would go away—as soon as Ruala was caught. She’d testify against the assassin, and then she’d go back to the same old solitary grind of everyday life. She jumped when Mac’s fingers touched her arm.

“Need a hand?” he asked quietly.

She realized she’d stopped at the foot of a scree slope. “Thanks.” His hard palm was dusty and callused against hers, but it steadied her gently as she picked her way up the unstable slope. When they reached the top, she ventured a smile at him. His answering smile crinkled the layer of dust around his eyes. Dark circles showed through the dirt, testament to how little sleep he’d gotten the past couple of days.

“Mac, when this is all done and we get back to the ranch, I’m putting you to bed and making you stay there for a week.”

He grinned broadly. “Will you be joining me?”

Heat rushed through her at the idea. She replied gamely, “If I do, you’ll need another week to recover.”

“Done,” he answered promptly.

Her pulse skittered wildly. But she managed to retort lightly, “Men. You’ve got to be so tired you can hardly walk, but you’re still thinking about sex.”

“Honey,” he murmured, “if I stop thinking about sex when I’m around a woman as hot as you, it’s time to bury me.”

Dutch called out low, “Are you two coming or not?”

Mac grinned ruefully and turned away from Susan. Mildly in shock, she followed him. A woman as hot as her? She couldn’t help but smile. It had been a long time since a man had desired her. Since Mac had desired her.

* * *

A tap on his foot woke Mac up. He lifted his head and saw Dutch squatting at the opening of the tent. The blond man gestured for him to come outside. Mac slid his arm carefully out from under Susan’s head. Even though his side was sweaty where she’d been plastered against him, he already missed the feeling of her. He stepped out into bright sunshine. It must be approaching noon.

“What’s up, Dutch?”

“Ruala and his gang just packed up and drove away.”

Mac stared. “You’re kidding. Why?”

Dutch shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Mac swore under his breath. They didn’t have the manpower both to protect Susan and track Ruala to figure out what he was up to now. “We need Doc and Howdy back here ASAP. Have you called headquarters? We need an estimated time of arrival on those two.”

Dutch nodded grimly and held up his cell phone. “I was just getting ready to make the call. Thought I’d let you know what was up first.”

Mad nodded his thanks. “I’ll make the call. Why don’t you hit the rack? You look beat.”

“You look worse, you old fart.” Dutch grinned as he crouched down in front of tent. “Mind if I cuddle up with your girl?”

Mac snorted. “You wanna die young?”

Dutch’s chuckle was joined by a distinctly feminine sound of surprise. Mac looked down guiltily as Susan stared up at him incredulously from the opening of the tent. Whoops. “Uh, hi, Suzie. I was just about to call headquarters.” Flustered, he made a big production out of taking the cell phone Dutch held out to him.

He frowned down at the phone. Digital technology. State-of-the-art satellite reception. And transmission.

He said low, “I think I know how Ramon Ruala found Susan out here so damn fast.”

Dutch poked his head out of the tent. And glanced in the direction of Mac’s gaze. He grunted in surprise. “You think Ruala got this phone number?”

Mac nodded grimly. “It would explain a lot.”

Susan peered up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he commented lightly. “I’m about to call Colonel Foley.”

She nodded, but the worried expression didn’t leave her eyes. Damn. And then a male voice spoke in his ear. Colonel Foley.

“Identify yourself.”

“Mac Conlon here, sir. We need an ETA on Doc and Howdy. Ruala’s made contact with us but he just bugged out. Could be headed back to the ranch. We could use some backup. Go ahead.” The phrase go ahead signaled the colonel that he wasn’t in a position to say much and that the colonel should ask some yes-no questions for Mac to answer.

Foley asked on cue, “Did Ruala make an attempt on Susan’s life?”

“Yes,” Mac answered.

Alarm laced the colonel’s voice. “Are you in danger, now?”

“Not right away,” Mac answered vaguely.

“But soon,” Foley replied grimly.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Does Susan want out of the op?”

“No way.”

“Any chance you could talk her into leaving?”

“Nope.”

Foley swore under his breath. Then said, “I assume a full-blown FBI SWAT team would send Ruala running for the hills, never to be seen again?”

“Undoubtedly,” Mac replied.

Silence at the other end of the phone while the colonel chewed on that. “Okay. Ruala’s seen the bait. And he’s seen the minimal protection around her. If he’s spooked and takes off now, there’s nothing we can do about it. But if he hangs around, looking to make another try at her, then he thinks he’s got more firepower than you and Dutch. I’ll send Doc and Howdy into the ranch in full-stealth mode. They can clear it and let you know it’s safe to come in. If we can sneak them in without Ruala seeing them, we’ll have doubled the force against him without him knowing.”

His boss’s logic was sound. Although, knowing Ruala, the bastard would probably come in with a small army the next time. The assassin was a bulldog when it came to getting the job done. It was part of what had made him one of the deadliest killers in the world. He’d keep gunning for a guy until he got his kill.

The colonel was speaking again. “Will the four of you have sufficient juice to take on Ruala and his men?”

“I think so,” Mac answered.

Foley replied, “We were hoping to get the indictment handed down by a grand jury tomorrow. Let me call the judge and see if I can get the whole thing expedited. Either way, I’ll put Doc and Howdy on a plane for Texas as soon as I get off the phone. They’ll be in place no later than midnight tonight.”

Mac breathed a sigh of relief. The odds for the good guys had just gotten measurably better. He thanked his boss and terminated the call.

Susan gave him a funny look. “Is now a good time for that talk I asked for last night?” she asked.

His pulse jumped in consternation. He had no clue what to do about her, and he certainly wasn’t ready to talk about it. Keep the protectee calm. He nodded in resignation and led her away from their camp.

He moved out of earshot of Dutch and picked a spot where he could scan the area with the binoculars he’d brought along. He gave Susan a hand in sitting down and was surprised that she let him help until he looked down and saw the swelling under her pant leg. “Jeez Louise, Susan! Why didn’t you tell me your knee was in trouble?”

She glanced down at the lump where the joint should have been. “It does this whenever I seriously overuse it. It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? That’s got to hurt like hell!”

She shrugged.

His generalized worry for her safety metamorphosed abruptly into anger. “You ought to take better care of your leg,” he growled. “When’s the last time a doctor saw it? Hell, with all the new medical advances these days, I bet there’s some way you could get a joint that’s fully functional for heavy athletics.”

“I’m fine the way I am,” she retorted.

“How can you say that?” He waved a hand at her knee. “Look at that. It’s a wreck!”

“Why do you suddenly give a damn about my knee beyond its impact on the mission, Mac Conlon?”

He stared at her, frozen by her pointed question. Why was he so worked up all of a sudden? The answer came to him, and his anger drained away as quickly as it had come. He answered quietly, “Because we’re not just talking about your knee, here.”

She looked as if he’d just slapped her. Her voice shook when she spoke, but he couldn’t tell if it was in outrage or hurt. “Why should I take better care of my knee? So I can look pretty and walk nice for all the hundreds of guys who are busting down my door trying to hook up with a scarred cripple like me?”

Outrage. That was definitely outrage in her voice. Which meant she was trying to hide the hurt. “A scarred cripple?” he asked gently, his heart breaking a little. “Is that what you see when you look in the mirror?”

“I don’t live my life feeling sorry for myself, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m okay with who I am and I have a decent life. But the fact is, I don’t happen to perform well in the dating and marriage market.”

He snorted. “Good grief, woman. You’re drop-dead gorgeous. You’ve got a sensational figure and the most remarkable eyes I’ve ever seen. They look right inside a person’s soul. You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re kind and honest. What the hell makes you undatable or unmarriageable?”

She shook her head, a look of exasperation on her face.

“Suzie—” he dropped to a knee in front of her “—listen to me. I’m not BSing you, here. I’m not suggesting you have lousy self-esteem. I’m saying you have a lousy opinion of how smart men are. When they—we—look at you, we see a woman who completely qualifies as girlfriend or wife material.”

“Yeah, and that’s why I’ve been beating off swarms of them with sticks over the past ten years.” She glared at him. “You’re so blinded by your compulsion to fix everything that you can’t see what’s right in front of your eyes.”

He frowned. “What compulsion?”

“It’s called a superhero complex. You believe you can fix everything that’s wrong with the world. While I admit that sort of self-confidence probably comes in handy in the course of doing your work, there’s a limit to your powers. You can’t fix my life. I’m responsible for me. Not you.”

He protested, “I’m not trying to fix your life. I’m only stating the facts.”

She went on the offensive. “Like the fact that you’re darn near drowning in guilt that you broke up with me right before I got shot? Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t think you drove me to get in that van and land in the middle of the Ferrare sting.”

He stared at her, flummoxed. “But I did drive you to do it.”

“Mac Conlon, you did no such thing. You told me in no uncertain terms to go away from you and from the op. It was purely my decision to go solo and do the surveillance on Ferrare that night.”

“But you weren’t thinking clearly. You didn’t know about the sting. If I’d told you—”

“I might very well have decided you were lying and done exactly what I did, anyway,” she declared.

He frowned. She was arguing for the sake of argument here. Her logic wasn’t sound. “You had no reason to think I would lie to you about there being a sting operation.”

She stared at him coldly. “Wanna bet?”

He met her glare with one of his own. “Yeah. Why in the hell would you think that?”

“Because you’d already lied to me that night when you said you were over me.”

He rocked back on his heels. She might as well have punched him in the solar plexus. He stood up, struggling to breathe, too agitated to sit still. She knew all along? She knew? He slogged back and forth across the gravel-strewn slope.

And finally he sat down heavily beside her. “How did you know?” he asked in dismay.

“I might have been young, Mac, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew what we had going between us. I wasn’t a groupie chick any more than you were having a casual fling with me. But for some reason, you decided to walk away from me. So, you lied through your teeth and came up with some lame story to get rid of me.”

He stared at her in open shock. Sonofa—

She interrupted his train of thought. “Why wouldn’t you have thrown in some equally lame claim that you and the Blackjacks were going to take out Ferrare, just to make your lie about dumping me sound more believable, or at least more macho? Telling me about the sting wouldn’t necessarily have changed anything I did.”

Astonishment rendered him equal parts numb and stupid. It couldn’t be. For ten years he’d wrestled with what happened that night, with the guilt of pushing her into a situation that maimed her and nearly killed her. And here she was, claiming he’d done no such thing. It was too much for his mind to take in.

“Why did you do it, Mac?”

He looked up at her. “Do what?” His brain felt like mush and was processing information about as well as mush at the moment.

“Why did you lie to me? Why did you break up with me like that?”

“I was ordered to. Foley had a feeling the sting was going to go down ugly and he needed to get you far away from it for your own safety. He told me to drive you off, to push you away from the op, and to use whatever means were necessary to do it.” God, it was a relief to have finally said that to her.

Susan stared at him, absorbing the information. Funny, but she didn’t act nearly as surprised as he’d thought she’d be. In fact, she nodded as if she’d expected those very words. And said, “I thought that might have been the case. I hoped it was, at any rate. I’d hate to think you believed all those awful things you said about me.”

He exploded. “If you knew, then why in the hell did you barge into the middle of the sting and get yourself shot?”

She smiled sadly. “You were partially correct. I wasn’t thinking clearly that night. It didn’t occur to me as I watched you walk out of my apartment that you guys would move so aggressively to set up the sting that fast. That part I didn’t see coming. But afterward, in the hospital, I had a lot of time to think about everything. That’s when I figured out that Foley must have ordered you to dump me.”

Mac sighed. “In the colonel’s defense, he didn’t order me to dump you. He only told me to push you far, far away from the op, and to do it before the sting went down.”

Susan stared at him for a long time in silence. And then she asked abruptly, “Why didn’t you ever come back to me?”

“After what I did to you? If you’ll recall, you did say you never wanted to see me again. Plus, I felt responsible for thrusting you into the middle of the shoot-out. I figured you’d hate my guts for that. And then when I tried to see you at the hospital, you told me to go away.”

“And that was enough to drive off the superhero for good?” she asked derisively. “Maybe it’s just as well you never came back if you’re that easy to discourage.”

Her words stung like needles. He spluttered, “But Tex… He said you were furious…said you refused to talk about me—”

Susan interrupted. “I was furious. Furious you were avoiding me. Furious that you didn’t come back for me sooner after the op was over. That you preferred to run around a jungle chasing Ferrare and Ruala than spend time with me.”

Her words hit him like gut punches that knocked the wind right out of him. Made him sick to his stomach. “But I did that for you. I thought you’d want them caught.”

“I did—I do—but I needed you more.”

“Well, hell,” he managed to mumble. “I really blew that one good.”

She glared at him.

Sonofagun. She’d wanted him. Loved him even after he shattered her world and her knee. After he’d lied to her and walked out on her. But she hadn’t forgiven him for feeling too damn guilty to come back and face her immediately. For not fighting harder.

Where were they supposed to go from here? Was there a chance he could salvage the relationship with her? But how? He’d been a complete shmuck without even realizing it. Dammit, he thought he’d done the right thing by staying away from her. He thought he’d done a noble thing to suck up his grief and loss and pain and leave her alone.

Susan shook her head. “I can practically see your mental wheels turning. You’re sitting there, trying your damnedest to figure out some way to make it up to me, aren’t you? Well here’s a news flash for you, big guy. Don’t bother. I don’t need an apology, and I got over you a long time ago. You and I are ancient history.”

Now who was the one lying? Maybe he was just in denial, but he would bet his life savings she’d been waiting to deliver that line for a good part of the last decade. He would also bet it was just a line. Delivered out of wounded pride and anger. He’d seen the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. He felt the way she unraveled in his arms. They had a rough history to be sure, but they had something powerful now, too.

Question was, would she admit it? Would she let what was simmering between them grow into something more? He’d hurt her. Bad. It was a lot to overcome.

He looked her square in the eye and said patiently, “I deserve that line. But honey, I don’t buy it for a second. Go ahead and take your mad out on me. And when you feel better and are ready to move ahead with our relationship, you let me know. Because I’m not going anywhere this time.”

She scowled at him. Apparently that was not the reaction out of him she’d been hoping for. She said hoarsely, “If you want to do penance for your sins, do it somewhere else. I don’t need to go down this road with you again.”

Her words were dagger blows straight to the jugular. Damn, she was sharp. He was here looking for forgiveness. He had thought at some subconscious level that if he could save her this time, they would be even somehow. As if bailing her out of this jam could make up for his playing a part in wrecking her life before. Right.

“I’m sorry, Susan,” he murmured. “So sorry…”

“Don’t.” She cut him off with a sharp gesture of her hand. “No apology, nothing you could say, will ever make up for the past ten years.”

He staggered from the blow of her words. “You’re absolutely right,” he ground out. He whirled away, slipping and sliding toward the bottom of the hill. He paused maybe thirty feet away from her. And forced words past the silent scream of agony tearing at him. “Ruala and his men have left. The coast is clear for us to head back to the ranch. After Dutch catches a nap and the horses get some more rest, we can go.”

Susan nodded fractionally, her face averted from him.

Mac gritted out, “I’ll be back before dark.”

Unable to hold it together for another second, he whirled and headed away from her. Into the mountains. God, it was tempting to just keep on walking. To lose himself in the maze of gullies and canyons. To disappear forever.

But the toy soldier was too damn well trained to do that. Bitterness soured his stomach. Mechanically, he found a high perch with good cover and panoramic visibility. He lay down and peered through his binoculars, not seeing a blessed thing before him. Instead, wounded, angry eyes stared back at him.

Sonofabitch. He’d really screwed things up good this time. He really ought to just pack up and go home. Leave the mission to Dutch and the others. It wasn’t as if he was in any shape to do a bit of good out here.

But dammit, he couldn’t walk away from her again. He wouldn’t. Even if she cracked his chest open and physically tore his heart out, if that was what it took to make it up to her, by God he would let her do it.

How in the hell was he supposed to keep her safe when she was busy destroying him from the inside out? He was going to blow this mission. A Tango One down the tubes because he was self-destructing over Susan Monroe.

* * *

It was a quiet ride home. Really quiet. Even after sleeping most of the day, Susan felt like she’d gone ten rounds in a boxing ring and didn’t feel much like talking. What the heck did Mac want from her? Absolution?

It wasn’t hers to give.

He didn’t owe her anything. He’d only followed orders—thank God that was what his verbal attack on her that night had been, and not an actual case of him losing interest in her. If Mac had been honest with her instead of pretending to dump her, if he’d told her a dangerous sting operation was about to go down and they needed her to go away, would she have gone meekly like he asked? She’d been pretty brash in her youth. Pretty sure she was immortal back then.

Maybe she would have gone away…and maybe not.

After all, she’d been violently protective of her little brother. She’d practically raised Tex herself when their mother abandoned them on an isolated ranch in West Texas with their depressed, overworked father. She couldn’t honestly say that she wouldn’t have sneaked up on the sting and tried to be there to save the only two men in the world she loved.

Why did Mac have to go and be so blasted understanding and patient with her now? It was almost as if he wanted her to fall in love with him. Or more accurately, to rekindle the love for him that she’d never lost. But what earthly purpose would that serve? A man like him could have any woman he wanted. Surely he could do better than her. Her thoughts whirled, tangling into ever-messier knots until she developed a throbbing headache.

Mac and Dutch were tense and stilted throughout the ride back to the house. She knew why Mac was wired, but Dutch? Were they worried about what they would find at her place? Mac said Ruala wouldn’t mess with them again for a while. Had he lied about that, too? Was he lying about everything? Damn him for confusing her like this!

The horses held up well for the return trip. It was mostly downhill, and once they got the scent of home in their noses they were hard to hold back. Her glowing watch declared the time to be about 1:00 a.m. when, in front of her, Mac held up a closed fist. Apparently, that meant to stop, since Malika all but ran into the rear end of his horse when it skidded to an abrupt halt.

He and Dutch slid off their horses. Her knee was having no part of dismounting right now, so she stayed in the saddle, alarmed at the sudden stop. They were no more than a half-mile from the ranch. It was just over the next big rise.

She leaned down toward Mac. “What’s up?” she murmured.

“I’m going to check out the ranch before we barge in as proud as you please,” he murmured back.

She rolled her eyes. These Special Forces guys seemed to enjoy making everything as difficult as possible. “Why don’t you just call Frank on your cell phone and ask him if anything’s going on? He’s staying at the house until we get back,” she asked with imminent logic.

“Can’t use my cell phone just now. It’s turned off. Doc and Howdy should have returned this evening. We need to make contact with them. I’d hate for them to shoot us as we ride in. Dutch is going to radio them and get position fixes on them, and then I’ll have a look around for traps or other surprises from our end.”

“Can I come with you?” she asked, nervous at the prospect of sitting out here alone for any extended period of time.

Mac shook his head regretfully in the negative. “On this recon, I’ll be moving fast and quiet. Dutch will stay with you.”

The rest of his answer hung unspoken in the cold night air. He’d be moving fast and quiet, and she wasn’t up to that sort of physical challenge.

After her terrifying experience the night before, she wasn’t quite as militant at the thought of hanging back while Mac went ahead and did a bit of his fancy commando stuff. But she still didn’t like the idea of not being able to keep up.

She covered up her frustration by sighing and saying, “Let me guess. I’m supposed to stay here with Dutch and keep the horses quiet while you play cowboy and go scout for Indians.”

The distant manner he’d taken with her ever since their argument this morning softened a bit. He even cracked a tiny smile for her. But his instructions were businesslike. Impersonal. “You catch on fast. Stay mounted, and if the slightest thing looks or sounds weird to you, bolt for the hills. Do you remember that the Blackjacks phone number you called the night Ruala broke into your house?”

“How could I forget it?” she asked dryly.

“If you have to run, call that number as soon as you can safely, and someone will come find you. I’m sorry to have to leave you here like this, but I promise I’ll come back as soon as we know it’s clear to move you into place.”

“Okay,” she answered gamely. She was already scared. Afraid to be alone. But that sounded so bloody weak. “I’ll be okay by myself for a little while. I didn’t mean last night that you could never leave my side again.”

He peered closely at her in the dark. “Just remember what I said. If anything spooks you, get out of here. Dutch will cover your retreat. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, got it?”

She cleared her throat and reached for his horse’s reins. “Right. Well, you have fun and don’t stay out too late or you’ll miss your supper.”

Mac grinned. “Aww, come on. It’s not a school night, Mom.”

For just a second she smiled back. “I’m a lot of things, Mac Conlon, but I’m definitely not your mother.”

“Thank God for that,” he murmured.

Did his hand actually caress her thigh as he moved past her? When she was done gaping in shock, she glared at his retreating silhouette. First he made some clumsy attempt at an apology to her, then he ignored her the whole way back to the ranch, and now he had the gall to cop a feel? He had some nerve.

If only her nerves were half as bold as his. The minutes dragged on, and an hour passed. The horses grew as antsy as her. They smelled supper and were not amused at being kept away from it like this. Gradually a breeze began to pick up. It had a heavy, wet smell that presaged rain. The horses sensed the storm coming, too, and Malika shifted restlessly beneath her.

“Easy girl.” She patted her mare’s neck. “I know exactly how you feel. But we ladies have to humor the men, you know.”

“Oh, yeah?”

The quiet voice made her jump practically out of her skin. Malika shied hard, too. Susan managed to stay on her horse and hang on to the other horses’ reins. Barely.

“You’re lucky I didn’t scream, Mac,” she retorted.

“Nobody would have heard you but the rest of the Blackjacks, and they would have figured we were having wild sex out here.”

“You wish,” she retorted.

“You say the word, and I’m there.”

There was an undertone of seriousness to his flip response that silenced Susan. Her world tipped off balance once more. Would she ever feel stable and in control of her life again? She was still reeling mentally when Mac mounted his horse and took the reins of the packhorse from her.

When they reached the barns, she slid out of the saddle and into Mac’s arms. She might have fallen flat on her backside if he hadn’t been there to catch her. Yet again, he’d anticipated her need and was there for her.

She really wished he’d quit doing that. It made being mad at him darned difficult. Fortunately, he set her away from him immediately and stepped back to a safe distance. As it was, her pulse betrayed her by pounding at the brief contact.

Gratefully, she handed Malika over to Frank, who passed her a cane. As humiliating as it was to use it in front of Mac, there was no other way she would make it to the house tonight. But as he walked beside her to the house, Mac seemed completely oblivious to the cane or her limp.

A long soak in a hot tub sounded wonderful, but bed sounded even better. Her knee would have to wait until tomorrow to be pampered back to a semblance of functional. Mac followed her inside. She stopped in front of her bedroom door, surprised that he was still right behind her. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Going to bed.”

“Where?” she asked, suspicion blossoming.

He gazed at her solemnly. “Where do you think?”

Alarm roared through her. “No. Absolutely not. Even if I was interested, and I’m not, I’m dead tired.”

“So am I. And you’re not sleeping alone until we catch these jokers. You’re at maximum exposure here at the ranch, which translates to maximum danger.”

“You’re still not sleeping with me!”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s me or one of the other guys. I just thought you might be more comfortable with me since we’re not strangers. Who would you like me to get to sleep with you instead? I’d recommend Howdy. He’s the lightest sleeper of the bunch, and he’s the best sniper I’ve ever seen.”

Her alarm threatened to become panic. “Are you serious?” squeezed out of her tight throat.

He looked straight at her. “Yes, Susan, I am. Someone’s sleeping in your room until this is over. I know that’s a pain in the butt for you, but we’re moving into the final phase of this op. Now’s when the risk goes sky high for the bait. And that’s you.”

The finality in his voice left little room for argument. And, when she stopped to think about it, she probably would feel more comfortable knowing somebody was nearby to protect her. But did it have to be Mac? Except the thought of anybody else sleeping in her room was even more weird.

She sighed. “I’ll get you some blankets and a pillow.”

When she stepped into her room with an armload of bedding a minute later, Mac was sprawled out on the floor beside her bed, wearing only a pair of gym shorts, fast asleep. He looked exhausted. Gently she covered him and put the pillow beside his head in case he wanted it later. Limping around him carefully, she took off her clothes, pulled on an elastic knee brace and an oversize T-shirt and crawled under her own covers.

As exhausted as she was, she lay in bed for a long time, listening to Mac’s quiet breathing. It was unsettling having him so close. How many years had she dreamed of him in the dark like this, imagining him near enough to touch, to kiss, to…

She had to find a way to get over these errant thoughts of him! She would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she lusted after him. But the other feelings that kept flooding her… Dang it, she didn’t love Mac Conlon!

Her mental outburst subsided, and she resumed listening to him breathe. Imagined the rise and fall of his muscular chest. Her whole body felt hot and flushed. Shoot. She was never going to get to sleep at this rate.

The wind rattled her window, and she snuggled deep under the covers to listen to the storm come. A spatter of raindrops hit her window. There was nothing quite as majestic as a thunderstorm rolling across the high plains of West Texas. The storm cut loose all at once with a flash of light and an immediate crash of thunder, right outside her window.

Susan jumped, or would have jumped if two hundred pounds of brawn hadn’t landed on top of her just then. A hard hand landed on her mouth and pushed her head back into the pillows.

A harsh, male whisper grated in the echoing silence. “Don’t move.”