The Spy Wore Spurs Read online

  As fast as the pickup had gone through, the driver must have had a remote. But there had to be another way to open the damn thing. He found a metal box buried in the dirt right next to it, connected to the door by cables. Padlocked with a keypad lock. He didn’t have time to mess with it, so he shot the padlock off. The controls inside were more sophisticated than he’d expected, but familiar.

  Not a trapdoor, after all, but a fancy vehicle lift.

  He pulled his SUV right onto the platform, left the door open, pushed the lower button in the box, then jumped back into his car just as it began to rapidly slip underground. Pretty much the most impressive setup he’d seen for a border tunnel.

  He kept his weapon out as he waited to reach bottom, which he did rapidly. An endless tunnel stretched in front of him, absolutely professional, a miniature version of a highway tunnel you’d see on any U.S. road. Major money had gone into making this. Then again, the illegal drug and weapons trade was a flourishing business that produced around four hundred billion dollars a year, worldwide. There were countries with worse GDPs, or Gross Domestic Product.

  He stepped on the gas and the car shot forward in the tunnel that had a downward angle. The GPS signal disappeared, but he knew roughly when he crossed the border. He was under the river now. And hoped the people who’d dug the tunnel really knew what they were doing.

  When the bottom of the tunnel began to curve up, he knew he was nearing the end. He stopped before the elevator shaft and called the platform down using an instrument panel on the wall. Then up he went.

  Hurry. Grace could be gone by now. Precious minutes had gone wasted while he’d searched for the entrance to the tunnel.

  But when he reached the top, he could see the pickup’s disappearing taillights in the distance. He stepped hard on the gas pedal. Grace was in that pickup, and she was in trouble.

  When he managed to close the distance sufficiently at last, he stuck his gun out the window and aimed for the back tires. He could only shoot left-handed, since he was behind the wheel.

  As bumpy as the ground was, only his third shot hit its aim. The second tire was more accommodating, blowing on the very next shot, and the truck fishtailed before it slowed, then came to a halt eventually, in another couple of yards.

  He had no authorization whatsoever to enter the sovereign territory of Mexico. A court martial hung as a very real possibility in his near future.

  He couldn’t have cared less.

  The passenger-side door of the pickup opened. Grace got out, helping two small children to the ground as best she could with her hands tied in front of her. Then the barrel of a gun appeared behind them, followed by someone familiar, someone unexpected. Dylan.

  Fury burned through Ryder. He’d run the man through the system, dammit. He’d come up squeaky clean.

  The man held his weapon to Grace’s head. “Throw your gun out the window,” he shouted to Ryder.

  Ryder did so immediately, but managed to keep the toss short, so the weapon didn’t end up too far from his SUV. Then he carefully reached down to his boot where he’d gotten into the habit of keeping a backup gun. He shoved that into the back of his waistband, counting on Dylan not being able to see him since the SUV’s lights were still on.

  “Turn off the car, then get out with your hands in the air,” Dylan instructed.

  Ryder turned the key, but left it in the ignition. He pushed the door open slowly, didn’t want to spook the man. “You can take my car. It has a full tank of gas. Just leave Grace and the kids.” He lifted his hands, but not too high. “You can just keep driving south.”

  But Dylan had no intention of doing that. He aimed and squeezed the trigger.

  Grace, in some superhero move, vaulted over the kids and knocked into him, causing the bullet to go stray by an inch maybe. But that measly inch made a world of difference in this case.

  Dylan knocked her to the ground then immediately aimed at Ryder again, but by then Ryder was ready for him. He pulled his smaller sidearm from behind his back and aimed in the same smooth move.

  One shot.

  Straight through the head.

  Then he ran forward, keeping his weapon ready, even though he knew he wasn’t going to need it.

  By the time he reached them, Grace had her arms around the crying kids. She had somehow freed herself.

  His heart raced like a speeding bullet. He didn’t seem to be able to catch his breath. The sight of her was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen in his life. Then he noticed the blood on her face. “Anybody hurt?”

  She shook her head.

  He wanted to grab hold of her and then keep holding her for a week or so. But the sooner they got back to the U.S. side of the border, the better. He didn’t want to run into any Mexican border guards and have to explain himself.

  Especially since—if they’d heard the gunfire—they might just shoot first and ask questions later.

  “Come on.” He picked up Miguel. “Let’s get out of here.”

  She picked up Rosita and followed him to his SUV. Then he drove out of Mexico as fast as he’d come in, right through the superfancy tunnel.

  His phone rang just as he came out on the U.S. side.

  “We’re at the log cabin,” Mo told him. “Nice mess. Where the hell are you?”

  “Stay where you are. I’m coming back there. I have Grace and the children.” He glanced at his GPS that was working once again. “Found another tunnel. You won’t believe this one.” And he gave the coordinates.

  “We’ll check it out in the morning. We’re going to have enough on our hands for tonight, cleaning up this mess.”

  Ryder hung up, then reassured the children that they were going to be fine, all the bad things were over now and they were going to soon see their mother. Only when he succeeded in calming them down did he ask Grace what happened.

  She gave him the highlights.

  “I can’t believe Dylan could be involved in something like this,” she said when she finished, shoulders slumped, looking pretty beat.

  “You’re safe,” he said, pretty much the only thing he could think.

  “Thank you for coming after us.”

  The hounds of hell couldn’t have held him back.

  “Are you going to get into trouble for crossing the border?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Since when? You don’t break rules.”

  Since she’d come to mean more to him than any other woman he’d ever met. But now was not the time to tell her that. Instead, he asked more about how she’d found the children and how Dylan had come into the picture. He could tell that she still had trouble dealing with that.

  “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t see that coming, either,” he said as they reached the old log cabin. Several SUVs surrounded it, belonging to his team who were coming through the front door with grim looks on their faces.

  “Stay in the car with the kids,” he told Grace before he got out to speak to the others.

  The inside of the log cabin had scared the soul out of him when he’d first burst in. He’d spent a long, frenetic minute searching for Grace’s body in the bloody mess. Grace had seen it already, but she shouldn’t have to see it again. And it was definitely too gruesome for the kids.

  Mo reached him first. “How are they?”

  “Fine.” He stepped aside so his friend could see into the SUV, where Grace was cuddling the children who were half-asleep. “No injuries.”

  Mo’s shoulders relaxed. “What are we going to do with those four bodies in there?”

  “Let local law enforcement deal with it,” Ryder said.

  “Did they get anything out of the wire mill boss yet?”

  “He lawyered up and clammed up. But I bet he’ll talk when he realizes what kind of charges he faces. He’ll be begging for a plea bargain.”

  Mo nodded and dialed. Their mission was a bust at this stage. Too much action had been going on on the Cordero ranch these past few days. Whoever was ru
nning the show had probably already switched to plan B,

  another location.

  Border Patrol and the local law could take care of the cleanup and investigation here. Ryder and his team had a more important job. They had to figure out the new location their enemies would choose now and set up surveillance all over again. In time to prevent the terrorists from entering the United States.

  He wasn’t worried. If there was a team to accomplish that, his team was it.

  “Cops are on their way,” Mo said, coming after him, stashing his phone away.

  “Want to tell us what happened?” Jamie asked.

  Ryder gave them a quick update.

  “All that rush, and everyone’s dead when we get here. Prince Charming off on the rescue all by his tough self.” Keith kicked at the dirt. “I feel cheated.” He was the youngest man on the team and lived for the excitement of action, hadn’t yet seen enough blood to be as wary of it as the others were.

  “Not to worry.” Ryder clapped him on the shoulder. “There’ll be a next time and soon, I’d bet. You just make sure you’re ready.”

  He puffed his chest out. “I was born ready.”

  Shep shoved him. “You were born an idiot.” And the two went at each other in a friendly scuffle.

  “The most highly trained soldiers the country has to offer,” Jamie said with disgust.

  Ryder shook his head.

  “I’ll take the kids to be checked out at the hospital in Hullett and make sure their mother is notified. I’ll have social services meet us there,” Mo said. “I’m guessing you’ll be bringing Grace?”

  “I would, but I doubt she’ll let me.”

  “Guess we know who’s wearing the pants in that relationship,” Keith said, having broken from Shep.

  “There’s no relationship.”

  “You just broke every rule in the book for her.” Jamie cast him a skeptical glance. “Do we look stupid?”

  Ryder grinned. “Now that you mention it…” And braced for the hit. They were all still riding an adrenaline high, buzzing with energy.

  Mo pushed between them. Built like a tank, he wasn’t the easiest person to get around.

  So Ryder stepped back. “All right, let’s get moving. You take the kids.” Mo was great with kids. His size and rumbling voice never scared them. They usually treated him like a big teddy bear.

  They walked over to get the twins. Of course, Grace immediately said, “I want to go with them. They’re scared.”

  But Ryder found that he was reluctant to let her go just yet. “You need rest. Let me take you home. I have a few more questions, anyway.”

  And seeing that the kids were, in fact, fine with Mo—Rosita had fallen asleep as he carried her over to his car—she agreed. “My truck.”

  “Fine. But I’m driving.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “You’ve had a rough couple of days,” he told her. “I want you to relax.”

  And she didn’t argue further, miracle of miracles.

  He glanced around. “And where is your truck, exactly?”

  “A little bit down the road in the bushes.”

  He stared at her. He couldn’t believe she’d walked with that brace.

  As Mo drove away toward Hullett, Ryder went back to talk to the others for a few minutes, discussed how they would handle the police.

  Grace came up behind him. “Thanks for coming.”

  “You did a good job,” Keith said with more admiration in his voice than Ryder would have liked.

  “We’re leaving,” he said, and turned around, swung Grace into his arms and walked down the road in the darkness, ignoring when she protested.

  He also ignored the laughter and the mocking whistle calls behind him.

  “Put me down!”

  “Too late for that.”

  “Oh, great. You’re too worried that your friends might think you’re not strong enough to carry me.”

  “Nah, just don’t want to embarrass you. I put you down now, and they’ll all think you’re too heavy to be carried.” He staggered a little to underline his words.

  She growled at him. He supposed she’d meant it to be a sound of warning and anger, but he found it irresistibly sexy.

  Her truck wasn’t that far. He got there too fast, long before he was ready to part with her. She practically leaped from his arms, got in and slammed the door behind her.

  “Go that way.” She pointed in the opposite direction from the one Mo had taken. “It’s a shortcut to the ranch.”

  He followed the suggestion and drove through the night. She stayed quiet. Probably not feeling too well. She’d been through the blender these past couple of days. The sooner he got her home the better. “Are you sure you’re all right? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if a doctor checked you out.”

  “Nothing he could do for bruises.”

  “How are you doing with Dylan’s death?” He’d never been a great fan of the guy, but the man had been Grace’s friend. The betrayal had to hurt.

  “Hasn’t hit me yet.”

  He would just have to make sure to be there for her when it did.

  He drove on in silence for a while before he said, “Please don’t do that ever again. Don’t put yourself in danger like that.”

  She stiffened. “Because I’m not as strong as you are? I’m not all washed-up, you know. I still have something to offer. I can handle it.”

  “I know you can. But I can’t, Grace.” He glanced over at her. “A couple of times today, I wasn’t sure if I was going to get to you in time.”

  They had driven several miles, the log cabin no longer visible in the distance. They were out in the middle of nowhere under the endless Texas sky. And it hit him suddenly just how much she meant to him, how easily he could have lost her. He slowed the truck, then stopped it altogether and shut off the engine.

  “What’s wrong?” She was instantly alert, peering into the darkness.

  “Come over here.” His voice sounded hoarse. He didn’t care. He met her in the middle, where the steering wheel wouldn’t impede dragging her onto his lap.

  She didn’t protest when he folded his arms around her, or when he tasted her lips.

  Or when that tentative tasting turned into craving he couldn’t slake as he fully claimed her. The adrenaline rush of the chase still hummed through his blood, along with the relief of finding her alive. Sharp need sliced through him, filled him, brought his senses alive.

  Need. Heat. Want.

  She felt exactly right and perfect in his arms. He claimed her mouth, then kissed his way down her neck as she let her head fall back. She had to have the softest skin in the world. He could spend the rest of his life running his lips over all that velvet.

  He adjusted her so she straddled him, her breasts just a short dip of his head away. He tried to be careful with the buttons on her shirt, but a couple went flying, anyway.

  When he tugged down her bra and pulled a swollen nipple into his mouth, she moaned his name.

  * * *

  WHATEVER PAIN HER BRUISES caused, pleasure overrode it. An hour ago, she wasn’t sure she was going to live through the day. Now she felt more alive than she could ever remember feeling.

  She tugged his shirt over his head and ran her seeking fingers over his chest, the hills and valleys of muscles, as she rubbed against his hardness between her legs. He bit back a groan and sucked harder on her nipple.

  Desire swirled through her body, hot need. His hands slipped to her waist, tugging the flimsy material of her shorts away from her body. A hand on each hip, his thumbs massaged the sensitive crease that lead to the V of her thighs.

  His mouth switched to the other nipple. Her underwear disappeared at the same time. The man was a wizard at multitasking.

  She reached between them and undid his belt. He lifted slightly and shrugged his pants and underwear down in the same move. Then they were flesh to flesh, hard to soft.

  And he looked up at her, desperation in his eyes suddenly
.

  A second passed before her mind surfaced from the sensual haze enough to understand his unspoken question. And then more effort to make her lips say the words. “I’m on the pill.”

  He flashed her a profound look of gratitude. “I’m clean. We get regularly tested for everything.”

  The secret team he worked on, she thought, but was too distracted to ponder that now. “Same here.” Not the testing, but she was clean. The men in her life had been few and far between, and she’d always insisted on tangible protection. Until now.

  His hands slid under her, lifted her up, over him. Then he stilled, letting her take control of what would happen next. With his swollen tip at her opening, she didn’t hesitate long.

  She lowered her body onto his and moaned with pleasure.

  They both held their breath for a second, against the onslaught of sensations. Then he began to gently rock under her.

  Pressure built quickly, her body more than ready.

  One of his clever hands moved up to her breast, the other between her legs, his thumb finding the very spot that ached for his touch.

  They rocked together, moving closer and closer to the edge of the precipice. Her fingers tangled in the short hair at his nape. When he sent her over, she cried out his name, and through her own pleasure felt him let go at last and pulsate deep inside her.

  Their harsh breathing filled the cab as she fell against him, utterly spent.

  Pure bliss surrounded her, the likes of which she hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever. But the sense of “right” didn’t last long. Because all of a sudden she remembered.

  And yanked her body back hard, making him wince. “You’re getting married!” She tried to scramble off him, but he held her in place.

  “It’s not like that. What I meant was that I want to marry, in general.”

  She stared at him. “What do you mean in general? As in there isn’t a specific woman?”

  He pressed against her. “Oh, there’s a woman. Just not the kind I expected.”

  She was pretty much speechless at that. “I’m not ever getting married,” she said. Not that he’d asked. She cleared her throat, suddenly embarrassed. “Just to be clear.”

  “Okay,” he said with a goofy grin.

  “Okay?”