Wild Borders (6 page)

Rick stepped back and nodded to his son. “Sure, kiddo.”

“Goodnight Trevor,” Lani said with a smile to him. She turned to Rick and blushed.

“Sweet dreams,” Rick said.

“Ah, right.” She closed the door. He heard the lock click and he grinned.

Chapter Four

Emotions raged within Lani, holding her on the edge of sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking of last night when Rick had kissed her. His earthy, enticing smell. Her fingers against his muscled chest, and his lips burning hers…so sensual. Everything about him was sensual.

Lani’s eyelids fluttered. Rick’s arms, holding her to him…the hammer of his heartbeat against her chest…wanting him, so much. Such warmth. Fire, burning her skin wherever his lips trailed. Her breasts aching beneath his slow and deliberate touch. Rick’s mouth upon her nipples, his tongue swirling across one and then the other. His naked body pressed against hers, his arousal melting her resolve.

She surrendered, losing herself—

Lani woke with a start. She blinked away the sensual dream and stared up at the ceiling. Moonlight and shadows flickered and danced across the white surface and her heart pounded an uneven rhythm.

Losing myself. That’s exactly what would happen if she surrendered to any man, and exactly why she couldn’t allow it to happen with Rick.

And yet, how she wanted more of him.

Damn. Even her dreams betrayed her.

Rick’s words whispered through her mind.
I’m not lying, and I’m not James or your father.

“I can’t believe I slept so late,” Lani told Sadie as she sat at the breakfast table in the copper and verdigris kitchen. The aroma of baked bread and cinnamon met her nose, and her stomach growled. “It must have been those allergy pills.”

“You probably needed it.” Sadie handed Lani a glass of orange juice. “Nothing like country air to give you a good night’s sleep.”

“Thanks.” Lani took a long drink then set the glass on the table. “Must be true. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so relaxed. Where are Rick and Trevor?”

“Rick left early for work.” Sadie grabbed a set of oven mitts, then pulled a shallow pan out of the oven.

A strange wave of disappointment flowed through Lani. Why should she care that Rick left before she could see him? She didn’t need an adolescent obsession and she refused to think about him another second. Not one.

“Trevor’s out feeding the pigs.” Sadie set a pan on the stove and nodded toward the window. Lani could see sunshine warming a rose bed, and willow branches dancing in a breeze.

Sadie blew a strand of chestnut hair out of her face as she wrapped up a square of cooled coffee cake and added it to a growing stack. “Would you like some Polish coffee cake?”

“Absolutely.” Lani’s mouth watered as she breathed in the aroma. “It smells heavenly.”

Sadie handed her a plate with a thick slice. As soon as Lani tasted it, she realized it was more than heavenly. Thin yeast bread with anise seeds baked in, then a cinnamon, sugar and butter topping crumbled on top, and another topping drizzled over that.

“It’s to die for.” Lani sighed around a mouthful of the treat. “I’m going to gain ten pounds just from the smell of your cooking.”

Laughing, Sadie whisked off her apron. “I wouldn’t worry about pounds around here. Lots of walking. Good for the body—and the mind and soul. What’re your plans for today?”

“I’d like to start with interviewing you.”

The woman plopped a wide-brimmed hat on her dark curls. “Just holler when you’re ready. I’ll be in the garden.” She grabbed a metal bucket from the counter. “I’m dumping these scraps in the compost heap. Nothing goes to waste here, so don’t throw away any leftovers.”

“No danger of a crumb of it going to the compost.” Lani smiled and rubbed her stomach. “Only problem is, it’ll be going to my waist.”

“I told you, no worry about your waist. You’ll see how much exercise you get, just hanging around this place.” Sadie laughed and headed out the back door with the scrap bucket.

Lani couldn’t help but like Sadie, not to mention Chuck and Trevor. What a wonderful family Rick had.

Her heart gave a twinge. A family like she’d had before her parents and sister were taken away. A family like she could’ve had, if James loved anyone besides himself. If he’d been the person she’d thought he was.

A son like Trevor, energetic and bright—they might have built a tree house, or played soccer. He would have hugged her each night, after a bedtime story.
Mommy, I love you…

Oh, enough!
It was better that they had no children. The divorce would have been an even greater nightmare, and no son of James could have grown up healthy.

She decided to start with a shower, and in the bathroom, she discovered Rick’s apple-scented shampoo and smiled. No wonder he smelled of apples.

While she washed her body she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have Rick soaping her…touching her. She slipped her hand between her thighs and slid her fingers into her folds as she imagined Rick would.

He was soaping every inch of her, paying close attention to her breasts and her mons. While the shower washed away the soap, Rick bent his head and sucked her nipples, first one, then the other. He was heedless of the water pouring on his dark hair, slipping his fingers into her folds and stroking her clit as he continued to pay close attention to her breasts.

Just when she was on the edge, the very edge, he backed away and handed her the soap. Her body was crying for release, but anxious to touch every inch of him. He smiled as he watched her lather the soap and then rub it through the light sprinkling of hair on his chest. Warm water pounded on her back while she worked her way down. She knelt before him and lathered his abs and his hips and then the dark hair around his cock. Her fingers trembled as she forced herself to move to his thighs and ignore what she wanted to touch most.

When she finished soaping him and started to rise, he cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth close to his erection. Willingly, she slipped her lips over the head of his cock, licking him and sucking him the way her friends said was the best way to give a man fellatio. She used her hand along with her mouth, enjoying the way he gripped her hair and the way he groaned as she sucked his cock.

Just as she felt him near that point where he was ready to climax, he drew her up and ordered her to change positions with him, to turn her back and place her hands against the tile. The ceramic was cold beneath her palms, but Rick was so hot against her backside. He leaned over her and palmed her breasts at the same moment he rubbed his cock against her ass. He slid two fingers into her hot core to find it slick, waiting for him.

Rick held his cock in one hand as he gripped her hip with his other. In the next instant he drove inside her and it was all she could do not to scream, it felt so good. Slowly he began thrusting in and out, driving her beyond all reason until she was so close to the edge that one more thrust pushed her over.

She cried out unable to hold it back any longer. Rick continued pumping in and out of her, drawing her orgasm out until he came, shooting his hot fluid into her.

Lani bit her lip to restrain her cry as she surfaced from her fantasy. Her fingers continued to work her clit and her body jerked with aftershocks until her legs trembled.

With a groan, she sagged against the cool tile behind her as warm water sprayed down on her chest. If fantasizing about Rick gave her such great orgasms, she was in big trouble. How would she manage to keep her hands off him during her stay at the ranch?

She just had to keep in mind that she would only be here three weeks and she didn’t do short-term relationships.

After showering, then dressing in jeans and a blouse, Lani tried not to think about Rick any longer and headed to the den. The country air certainly did relax her, as if there was no hurry in the world to get to work. That’s probably what Theresa had in mind when she’d agreed to giving Lani the assignment.

With a sigh, she sank into a swivel chair in front of a roll-top desk. She slid on her glasses, then plugged her laptop into the phone jack and dialed her e-mail account. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the wagon-wheel shaped clock, and the click-clack of her laptop keys.

Outside chickens clucked and Rainbird sprinklers went
ch-ch-ch-ch
. A wave of memories washed over Lani. The lazy sound of the sprinklers took her back to her childhood, when she and her sister Naya would run through the water in their underwear. Lani could smell fresh-cut grass and feel water splashing her legs.

She rubbed the scar on her thigh as she stared out the window. How she missed Naya, and her mother. If only…

A chime came from Lani’s laptop, indicating her e-mail account had come up, and she jerked her attention away from things that couldn’t be changed. She wanted to shut down the computer as soon as she saw the hundred plus e-mails that had accumulated in the two days since she’d last checked. Several were responses on her recent feature on the former California governor, a couple were from friends, and two from her editor, and the rest were SPAM. She deleted all the unsolicited mail and responded to the rest.

After she finished her replies, Lani leaned back in the swivel chair and closed her eyes. Her thoughts turned back to Rick. His was a powerful presence, yet he was so gentle with her. Definitely a man she could lose her heart to, and it would make it all the harder when it was time for her to head back home.

* * * * *

“They’re not suffering, Rick,” Don Mitchell said. “Just a bit of dehydration.”

Rick nodded and wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The merciless sun cooked the desert as agents rounded up a group of thirty-three undocumented aliens at the Ford Ranch, at the foot of the Mule Mountains. Men, women and children made up the miserable group, but they were too beaten by the heat to do more than crouch in the dust and wait to be processed.

Ford had reported the group when they stopped at his ranch for water. The rancher was a good man, and had allowed the UDAs to drink from his irrigation hose.

The stench of sweat and body odor was almost unbearable, and the heat only intensified the smell. It was obvious they’d been on a long and difficult journey, not uncommon for illegals trying to cross the U.S. border. Rick was not usually called in on a routine process, but one of the UDAs had claimed to have information on a key smuggler Rick was after.

In Spanish, Rick questioned Juan Dominguez, who’d insisted he knew the smuggler.

“Gordo,” Juan said. He continued rattling in Spanglish, the border version of Spanish and English. The
coyotes
had left the UDAs to die, and Juan was angry. Gordo was the name the
coyotes
had called the smuggler. Juan gave Rick a description that matched what he knew of the man.

“Gordo,” Rick muttered as he pushed his Stetson back and scratched his head. The name kept coming up, and in his gut he knew he was closer to tracking the bastard down.

Sal Valenzuela strode toward Don, looking like he was sweltering in his rough duty uniform. “The kid on the end says an old guy couldn’t keep up and they had to leave him behind. I’ll call it in.”

Don Mitchell radioed for a transport van after he and Sal determined that all the members of the group were indeed UDAs, advised them of their administrative rights, and took down their biographical information.

The helicopter searched for the missing man. The agents finally located him where he’d crossed Sweetwater, the ranch of the former county sheriff John “Bull” Stevens. The UDA was evacuated to Douglas Hospital, but he died from dehydration during the flight.

“Damn
polleros
,” Rick cursed to Sal and Don. He tossed his hat into his truck as they got ready to leave the ranch.

“To hell and back,” Don replied. “Those
coyotes
deserve to die in the desert, instead of the people they leave stranded.”

Sal nodded.

Rick rubbed his hands over his face, trying to wipe away some of the exhaustion and frustration. “Only getting worse.”

With a shrug, Don walked back toward the group of UDAs. “The
coyotes
run people and drugs. Both are profitable enough to be worth the risk.”

“Need any help here before I take off?” Rick asked.

“We’ve got it handled,” Sal replied.

“I’ve got to head on home.” Rick climbed into his truck, lowered the window, and slammed the door.

“How long is that pretty gal staying with you?” Sal’s dark eyes gleamed.

The possessive feeling that grabbed Rick surprised him. “Not long enough.” He buzzed up the window, his friend’s low whistle fading as the glass rose.

* * * * *

After Lani settled at the dining room table for their interview, Sadie stretched a block of fabric across a hoop. “I hope you don’t mind if I quilt while we talk.”

“Not at all.” Lani pulled her recorder out of her bag and set it on the table’s surface.

She admired the furnishings, including an oak china cabinet filled with crystal glasses, goblets and decanters. It surprised her to see crystal on a ranch, one of her many preconceived notions of life in the country to be shattered since meeting Rick’s family.

Margarita glasses caught her attention. Heat rushed through her at the memory of what her last margarita had led to. How could she be thinking of that in front of his Mother?

Lani shoved thoughts of Rick from her mind, praying his mother wouldn’t notice the flush in her cheeks. She ran her hand over a quilt block, admiring Sadie’s work.

“Incredible.” Lani traced one of the circles designed with small blocks of cloth. “I love the materials you’ve chosen and the way the rings loop together.”

“You’re sweet.” Sadie slipped on a pair of half-glasses, adjusted the hoop, slid a thimble on one finger, and started stitching. “It’s a wedding ring quilt, and the materials are hand-dyed.”

Lani picked up a corner. “The circles do look like wedding rings intertwined.”

“I’ve been working on it for years, off and on. I keep hoping Rick will find a young lady he wants to settle down with, so that I can give the quilt to him and his bride as a wedding gift.” She glanced up and smiled. “There’s been no shortage of women who’ve been interested in Rick. He’s just never fallen in love with anyone.”

Lani snatched her hand away like it had been scalded. An image of Rick’s kiss came to mind and a furious blush engulfed her to the soles of her feet.

“Can you tell me about your ranch?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she steered the conversation to safer ground.

Sadie quilted with deft strokes as she spoke. “Since Rick had no interest in going into the business, Chuck sold off all the commercial cattle a couple of years ago when we retired. We keep enough livestock for personal use, and raise most of our own vegetables and fruit.”

Lani shifted her notebook. “Do immigrants travel through your land?”

“We’re fortunate that illegals don’t cross our property as often as they cross the MacLeod’s, or the Grand’s.” Sadie adjusted her glasses and continued stitching. “And oh, heavens. Then there’s the Mitchell’s ranch—why, Don estimates five hundred or more go through their back pasture every night. Like a highway. Kitty put bars on her back window ‘cause she’s worried for her granddaughter.”

She sighed and shook her head. “That’s why Kev Grand bought himself a shotgun. Shoots up in the air, just to scare them. That, I don’t agree with.”

“By MacLeod are you referring to Trace?” Lani asked.

“One and the same gal who arranged for you to stay here.” Sadie nodded. “Although she’s Trace Lawless now. Married a fine man, a DEA agent with a rough edge that more than earns that Lawless name. And Dee, she married Jake Reynolds who’s with Customs, but she goes by Dee MacLeod Reynolds.”

Lani smiled. “Trace is a terrific friend, and I’m so thrilled for her and her sister.”

“Trace off and moved to Texas with Jess, but she gets back every now and again,” Sadie said.

“Yeah, that’s what she told me in her last e-mail.” Lani twirled her pencil. “She hopes to make it here for a visit before I leave.”

Sadie clipped a loose thread and started to rethread her needle. “Do you have any more questions?”

“A few.” Lani glanced at her notes again. “Do you come in contact with these people—the UDAs—often?”

“The illegals we get, most of them just want water,” Sadie said. “Not too long ago, we discovered a hole cut into our fence beside a water trough. Rather than reaching over the fence to get water, they cut right through the wire.

“Sweetwater Ranch has sustained the most damage that I know of.” Sadie adjusted the quilting hoop in her lap. “Bull—that’s John Stevens, who owns Sweetwater—lost thousands of dollars in cattle when
coyotes
tore down his fence to run illegals through.”

Lani frowned and stopped taking notes. “
Coyotes
?”

“The smugglers, also called
los polleros
, who are paid to sneak illegal immigrants into the U.S.”

Lani tapped her pencil on her notepad, her thoughts whirling. “What do you do when illegals stop by?”

Sadie glanced over the rims of her glasses. “We call the Border Patrol and give them water.”

Lani looked at the dog at her feet and smiled at the large sad-eyed Rottweiler. “I’m sure Roxie is a good watchdog.”

“Nothing like a Rottweiler to keep folks at a distance.” Sadie chuckled. “‘Course she’d as likely slobber all over your shoes than bite you, but we’ll keep that to ourselves.”

Lani and Sadie talked for about an hour longer. Sadie explained how deep passions ran among people when it came to the subject of illegal immigrants, no matter which side of the issue the person might be on.

“When does Rick get home?” Lani asked when they finished the interview. He’d been gone since at least six a.m., and it was closing in on a full twelve hours from the time he’d left the house until this moment.

“Anytime now.” Sadie glanced out the front window. “Looks like he’s here.”

A low thrill invaded Lani’s belly, and when Rick walked through the door, her senses ran sky high. His presence filled the room, and the tired smile he gave her made her knees quiver.

“Mom. Lani.” Rick hung his Stetson on the hat rack, then kicked off his boots and left them beside the front door. He wore a faded blue shirt over a black T-shirt, and snug jeans.

“Shower?” Sadie asked as he strode by.

“Uh-huh.” Rick walked past, straight for the laundry room.

“He usually won’t say two words after work until he’s had his shower.” Sadie began folding her quilt and packing it away. “At least on days when he’s detained illegals.”

“Why is that?” Lani asked.

Rick stepped out of the laundry room, his shirt off, and he was removing a black vest. Her skin chilled as she realized it was a bulletproof vest—it had never occurred to her that Rick would ever be in that kind of danger.

“I come in contact with hundreds of people a day from all over the third world.” He walked to an oak cabinet and opened one of the doors with a key. “Due to the conditions of their trip, who knows what viruses or diseases they could be carrying. I’ve seen HIV, HEP, Plague, Malaria, Typhoid, Cholera, TB…you name it.”

Lani checked to make sure her recorder was running, forcing herself to take her eyes off Rick’s muscular chest and the dark triangle of hair that ran into the waistband of his jeans. “That’s something that never occurred to me,” she said, her eyes drawn back to him.

He withdrew his gun from a holster at his back and placed the weapon in the cabinet, followed by a small canister, then locked the cabinet. “In Douglas, a few agents a year contract TB at work and someone always ends up sick. The last thing I want to do is bring anything home to my family.”

“I see.” Lani chanced a glance at his face. “Why aren’t you wearing the green uniform that Border Patrol agents usually wear?”

He gripped the back of a chair and eyed her with that intense blue stare of his. “I work intelligence, so I wear civilian clothing. It’s easier to obtain information when I don’t look like law enforcement.”

“Ah.” She struggled to think of something to say, her brain seeming to have gone on vacation with him standing so close. Half-naked at that. “I-uh, I’ll have to pin you down for an interview.”

He winked. “Darlin’, you can pin me down any time.”

A hot flush seared Lani, and with Rick’s mother sitting next to her, she could think of no suitable reply.

“Time to finish dinner.” Sadie chuckled and slid her glasses into a case as she stood. She settled her quilting materials into a corner and headed into the kitchen.

Lani pushed back her chair. “I’ll help.”

Her gaze followed Rick as he headed into the laundry room, noticing the powerful lines of his naked back. With a mental shake, she followed Sadie into the kitchen, trying not to think about how good Rick looked without his shirt on. Trying not to imagine what it would feel like to run her palms over his chest and down, down the flat of his hard stomach, down—

Lani!
She clenched her hands and took a deep breath.
Enough of that.

“What can I do to help you?” Lani asked Sadie.

“Why don’t you peel the potatoes?” Sadie gestured toward several brown-skinned potatoes on the countertop, and then reached up in a cabinet filled with jars of spices. “Now where is the oregano…”

Lani heard the washing machine start as she grabbed the potato peeler off the counter. She almost dropped it when Rick walked through the kitchen clad only in his underwear. He winked at her, but didn’t pause and went straight to the bathroom.

He had one of the most gorgeous male bodies she’d ever seen. Hard, muscular thighs and calves. Powerful arms, and definitely a tight ass she could just bite.

Lani blushed, realizing that Rick’s mom was right behind her. If Sadie hadn’t been there, she probably would have stood with her mouth hanging open.

A while longer.