Flynn's Kiss (Disarmed & Dangerous) (2 page)

He rolled his eyes for effect. Jesus, some women.

“No, really. The boys call her Lady Liberty. She’s a real sweetheart, everyone likes her. Bubbly little thing. She’s a friend of Kate’s from England.”

Flynn’s chest gave a rapid knock as he glanced back up to see her wide violet eyes staring in his direction again. He gave an irritated shake of his head, not sure whether he meant it for her benefit or for his hormones to acknowledge his brain. He took a last slug of his beer and stood. He needed to get out of there. The woman was an unfair temptation that wasn’t going to happen. He was damned confident he could make her scream, but not for the right reason.

He scoured the room, narrowed his eyes at the laughing, flirting people, and wondered what the hell had possessed him to come out. He hated goddamned crowds, didn’t like hanging around people, except sometimes he thought he needed the company. Then when he had company, he wanted to be alone.

He drew his attention back to the deputy, deliberately kept his eyes from the bundle of caterwauling temptation, and sucked air through his teeth.

“I’ll see you around.”

Ethan leaned back with a look of regret and raised his beer bottle to his lips, pausing for a moment to smile up at Flynn. He tipped the bottle in salute. “There’s a missed opportunity.”

A small fizzle of indignation rumbled through Flynn.

“If she’s so hot, why don’t you give her a go?”

But his friend was unmoved by the hard-eyed stare.

“Nu-uh. Not Liberty. She’s way too much for me. Besides I already have my eye on who I want. I’m just waiting for the right opportunity.” He nodded in the bouncing bombshell’s direction. “But Liberty might just rock your world.”

Huffing out a disgusted breath, Flynn placed his half-empty bottle on the table.

“I’m shit with women. But one thing I do know, you shouldn’t wait too long, Ethan. Time passes.” Flynn clapped Ethan on the shoulder in lieu of grappling him around the neck like they used to do a few years before.

He made his way through the crowds to the door. One last glance over his right shoulder showed him Lady Liberty was still giving him the come-on. Her huge eyes watched, her smile full of saddened regret.

He let the door slap firmly shut behind him to block out her beautiful eyes and her god-awful voice.

He climbed into the old ranch truck and clenched the steering wheel with one hand, leaned back into the comfortable, worn leather seat, and gave a weary sigh. He was tired. At twenty-six he’d become a miserable excuse for a human being.

As bodyguard to the infamous movie star Cormack Blunt, he’d had fun. Wild for a time, no one had called the shots other than Cormack, a.k.a. his cousin Mac. A few years older, Mac had saved him, dragged his sorry ass over to LA and made him work when all he wanted to do was crawl into a corner and sulk. He’d forced him to look after himself when his best idea had been to grab a bottle and get himself drunk.

Assigned as bodyguard and stunt coordinator, he’d delighted in torturing the action hero with killer exploits over the last couple of years. Ignored by most of Hollywood, with the exception of the odd starlet determined to use him to get to the movie star, he’d become more cynical as time went on when he witnessed how willing a human was to ignore something revolting to them in order to become a success in their own small world.

After Mac’s departure touring Europe on his honeymoon for eight weeks with his new wife Zoe and their son Ryan, Flynn made the decision to come back to the ranch. The last thing they needed was a bodyguard—or a stunt coordinator, come to think of it.

Despite the offer from a number of celebrities to work for them in Mac’s absence, Flynn thought he deserved a break himself from the superficial world of movie making. Apart from anything, his rapport with Mac was such that Flynn did what he liked, and he liked to be his own boss. As long as he got his job done, everything was fine. Most celebrities would be a pain in the ass with their demands. Mac never had been.

He didn’t regret taking time away, but he missed the kid. Strange he and Ryan, an eleven-year-old boy, had gotten on so well. Kids were easy though, non-judgmental.

He let himself into his lodge at the far edge of the ranch accommodation block. Quiet and dark, it was just what he wanted.

Jesus, he needed to be alone. It was why he’d come back home to the ranch. Male companionship and miles of open space to lose himself. The last thing he needed to fuzz his mind and make him want was some brainless little floozy intent on saving him.

He left the lights off, navigated his way through to the bedroom in the pitch black, and sat on the side of his bed. He expelled a long drawn-out sigh, and his body deflated. Muscles relaxed, he closed his eyes against the darkness and rested his face in his hands. Unbidden, a vision of the bubbly brunette with the welcoming eyes flashed through his mind and disturbed his peace.

— •●• —

Beautiful was the only word she could think of to describe the cowboy who’d just left Toe Tappers. He’d sat partly in the shadows, his perfect profile toward her most the time, but every so often he’d tilted his head, and the flickering light from the wall lantern had slanted across his bright eyes as he gave her a slow, serious perusal.

His firm lips remained in a straight line for the entire time he’d been there, depicting serious and broody, not normally her type. Quiet and intellectual would be a more accurate description of the sort of man she was drawn to. But when he’d tipped his head back to take a swallow of beer from the bottle he held with long-fingered casualness, her pulse escalated from a leisurely trot to a roaring gallop.

She’d felt a terrific urge to trace her tongue along his strong, muscular throat and take a good bite of his ear.

A warm flush stole across her skin as she closed her eyes and imagined what he would smell like—probably leather and horses and masculine heat. Liberty nibbled her bottom lip and allowed herself a secretive smile, thinking of the hot cowboy. No harm in letting her imagination run riot once in a while.

She cast a quick glance around the empty parking lot before she levered herself into the truck she’d borrowed. Her short legs caused her a little difficulty as her mini-skirt rode farther up her backside and restricted her ability to simply hop in, making her entrance an inelegant affair. Good job nobody was there to see. She sprawled across the leather seat and slithered around in an attempt to straighten up. Almost pitiful no one was there—they could have given her a boost up and saved her some ungainly effort.

Irritated, her movements short and jerky, she screwed up her face and gave it a brief rub. Stupid of her, she thought—as reality kicked in while she wriggled into the oversized seat—to have any kind of illusion the guy would be interested. Her breath came deeper now and embarrassment tinged every thought. He’d been a god, a certain hunk of the month, a sexy stud who’d left the place with barely a backward glance. She smiled.

Not quite true, for he had given a quick glimpse over his shoulder, and when his narrow-eyed gaze met hers, she’d almost flung herself off the stage and hurtled after him. Except he’d gone in the blink of an eye, and it was too late to catch up. Besides, there was no reason he would possibly be interested in her. There was no need for him to look twice.

She was quite ordinary.

She fired the engine of the truck, pressed her foot to the accelerator, fishtailed out of the parking lot, and glanced in the rearview mirror to see a burst of small stones spraying up in the truck’s wake in a clear indication of its driver’s irritation.

She’d been alone far too long. Eleven months in New Zealand’s outback with barely another human being in sight had taken its toll this time. Grueling was not a strong enough word. There wasn’t a survivalist in the world who would argue the fact she’d achieved an enormous feat. Almost ninety percent of the time had been spent on her own studying molecular bacteriology and pathogens relating to the ecology and evolution of the microbial populations of New Zealand.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her work. It was simply she had been so deprived of company she had gone stir crazy, and the male population, according to her hormones, was in danger.

Not entirely. She gave a bitter smile as she remembered her brief encounter a few nights previously with Buddy, one of the local ranch hands. Naïvely, she’d allowed him to walk her to her truck in the belief the cowboy might be an interesting diversion. He’d seemed fairly nice at the time, if a little dim, but she should have realized he’d had a little too much to drink and was a bit rough around the edges.

She’d thought it might suit her to try someone more down to earth; she’d always gone for the cerebral, the skinny geek who could keep her interested in his mind but never had much in the way of a buff body to entertain her. Unfortunately, this diversion had given her a rough, sloppy kiss accompanied by a hard squeeze of her left breast, which had turned her stomach and made her carefully decline any further advances. It appeared she was still discerning enough not to want a quick grope in the back seat of a truck. She puffed out an irritated breath, and the strands of her bangs fluttered against her forehead. Not so discerning—the good-looking cowboy with the bright eyes would be most welcome to a quick grope in the backseat of a truck with her. Dear God, he’d be welcome.

A delicious shudder trembled through her stomach to send gentle reminders of a stronger pull ribboning outward until her fingers and toes tingled. She clucked her tongue as it refused to move in the dryness of her own mouth. She recalled his gorgeous-toned body, clothed in snug-fitting faded jeans and a plain black shirt. He’d had a smooth casual stride as he walked toward the exit, and when he’d half-turned to glance back, she thought he might change his mind about leaving. She’d caught his eye, and delicious warmth had crept over her chest and up her throat, only to be doused in cool disappointment as the sexy man banged the door shut behind him.

Regret at his departure had put a dampener on the rest of the evening. His exit may have been more to do with the arrival of the deputy sheriff. Their exchange looked easy enough, but it was only moments later the handsome cowboy got up and left. Possibly the deputy sheriff had moved him on. But in a strange turn of events, she’d felt lonely without him there.

She heaved a sigh and yanked the steering wheel to send the truck racing down the dirt track leading to the lodge Jack had given her on the ranch. It was meant to afford her some privacy so she could carry on her work. Privacy was one thing, loneliness was something else entirely different.

She slipped from the vehicle and let herself into the secluded lodge to be greeted by nothing but heavy, silent darkness.

She switched on all the lights as she made her way through the small building, to push back the shadows and the loneliness while she gave the cute guy one last regretful thought.

Chances were, he was either married or passing through, and she’d probably never see him again.

“Liberty, have you met Flynn?” Kate stepped forward to introduce him as he entered the large, cool kitchen.

“No, I…”

The bubbly brunette from Toe Tappers stepped forward, her curvaceous little body decked out in a fluorescent pink skirt capable of burning his retinas and a strappy black T-shirt that clung in desperation to her rounded breasts. A huge smile stretched wide, flashing even white teeth, as she reached her hand out in greeting. Mean-minded, he deliberately turned his face straight on to her, gave a wide vicious smile, and narrowed his eyes to gauge the full impact his damaged features would have. He braced himself to witness the familiar revulsion, frustrated to find himself holding his breath, a smile painted on while he waited for her reaction.

He watched her liquid violet eyes open wide, and as expected, her beautiful smile froze in place and a small gasp emitted from her soft lips. Disappointment curled in his belly, surprising him. He’d never expected anything other than a shocked reaction, but for some reason, he’d held out a vague hope she might be different. It appeared she was just like all the others with her wide eyes and her shiny pink lips parted in shock.

What he never anticipated was the immediate recovery whipping her expression from quick surprise to curiosity. Empathy filled those stunning eyes as she continued forward. His breath lodged solid in his chest as she placed herself directly in his pathway.

Instead of offering her hand to shake his, she stretched hers out and almost stroked his face with her fingers before his astonished system snapped into action and he snatched her hand away, grabbing her wrist in a vise-like grip, turning her skin white.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Satisfied with the sharp, surprised squeak in response to his aggressive growl, she confused him when she made no attempt to withdraw.

Shock flashed through the deep violet pools, pupils dilated, her thick black lashes fluttered, but as she continued to stare, he could detect no revulsion, just inquisitiveness.

“I’m sorry…” but she didn’t seem it. Her initial surprise at his touch had disappeared without trace. There was no embarrassed flush to her fair skin, no skimming her eyes away. She returned his stare with a boldness that threatened to make him run as her gaze scanned his face and she leaned in closer.

He stepped back, flicked a panicked glance at Kate, whose cool, clear gaze seemed to sweep over them both with a calm observation and a small intrigued smile. The woman was Kate’s friend; he wasn’t likely to get any help from that quarter.

His heart lurched painfully in his chest. Jesus Christ, he didn’t need this. He didn’t want people to see his weakness, and right now, this nosy little woman made him feel exposed. She stared at him as though she had just placed him under a microscope and was trying to decipher whether or not she had discovered something of interest.

Her gaze gave a bold sweep as she perused his face, tracking both sides at her leisure; she scanned the contrast between left and right as though she was trying to see what he had looked like before. When her attention centered on his mouth and stayed, he felt a bolt of molten lava shoot through his veins straight to his dick, rendering him incapable of any further action or thought.