Desperado Dad. Linda Conrad
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widened and her hands jumped to cover that full mouth, probably to keep a scream from escaping her lips. Now he’d done it. He reholstered his weapon instantly. Drawing a weapon was just an ingrained movement whenever he needed an intimidating tactic.
This time he hadn’t really been prepared to shoot, however. The monumental significance of that potentially deadly oversight wasn’t lost on him. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before.
“Please. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Only…please keep that gun out of sight.”
Randi forced a sob back down her throat. She refused to let him see her panic. Dear Lord, was she going to go to jail because she’d been a Good Samaritan? Lewis Lee always said that no good deed goes unpunished. She prayed she’d be around long enough to tell him he was right.
Manny softened his expression. Funny, but she could swear that this big macho man looked remorseful—guilty even. The gun had disappeared under his shirt at his waist almost as quickly as it had appeared. Randi’s gut told her that he would never have used it on her. Her fears subsided the instant she’d seen his expression. Meanwhile, he silently waited for her to continue.
How odd that all her fears had melted away. He was still a huge, dangerous man sitting in her front room and wearing a gun that he didn’t seem to mind using. But there was a glint of some emotion in his eyes that comforted her, drew her to him. Made her positive he was really the lawman he professed to be.
“My…” Her voice cracked and she started over. “My stepfather lives on another part of the ranch. On the Cottonwood section. But he won’t be helping us if that’s what you’re thinking. Probably wouldn’t help—even if he could reach us. He’s kind of put out with me these days.” She swallowed and tried to soothe her dry throat. It was no use. “Besides, he hasn’t been around in a couple of months. Not since…my mother’s funeral.”
“Your mother just died?”
She nodded. The emotion in his eyes changed to sympathy, and her head swam with confusion. What kind of man was this? And what did he really want from her?
Three
A multitude of emotions raced through Randi when Manny stood, turned and stretched out a hand to help her stand. She’d seen the guilt in his eyes when he’d fisted his hands in her hair, questioning her.
His look clearly told her he believed his actions had caused her pain. What she’d actually felt was simply fear—not physical discomfort. He hadn’t hurt her, just scared her. That Manny had such a sympathetic and honest streak in him was as clear as if it was painted on his forehead.
And now…
Now that he wanted to take her hand, wanted to touch her again, she hesitated. She’d been so concerned about the baby’s welfare that she’d given in to Manny’s demands too easily. For some reason she’d let him take total control.
All right, so he said he was a lawman and she’d believed him immediately. That might have been part of it. Believing what he said might be stupid of her, but she knew she would eventually get the answers. There was just something about him that made her know he could be trusted in the long run.
But for right now she marveled at how quickly her fear had disappeared. Past the fear, past the consuming questions in her heart about who he really was and what he wanted, Randi had felt alive and sensual. For the first time in her life, she actually wanted a man’s touch. Wanted it bad.
Not just any man, mind you. Randi wanted this man. He was all she’d ever dreamed about—dangerous but sexy. In Randi’s eyes he was a perfect combination of Zorro and some exotic and romantic pirate.
The problem was, she had no idea how to go about getting him. For ten years she’d buried her needs, smothered her desires. First there’d been her mother’s stroke, then her stepfather’s physical abandonment. Finally came the unrelenting pressure of seeing to her mother’s needs while trying to keep the ranch afloat. All of that left precious little time for Randi to have any kind of life.
If it hadn’t been for Lewis Lee and his wife, Hannah, Randi wouldn’t have graduated from high school. And if it hadn’t been for Marian Baker, the librarian, bringing her books every week after graduation, Randi would have withered and blown away. Reading had been her lifeline, her connection to the outside world.
Marian had even arranged for Randi to take care of a couple of toddlers while their mothers worked. The small job meant she could be in the house when her disabled mother needed her. It also meant that temporarily there had been enough cash to keep from having to sell off the land. Despite the puny allowance and doctor’s bills her stepfather had paid, there was never enough money to go around.
“I’m afraid you and I are stuck with each other for the duration of the storm, Randi. I’d appreciate it if we could stick close to each other for the baby’s safety as well as our own.” Manny eyed her with a piercing look when she still hesitated to move. “Come on into the kitchen with us. I think we need something in our stomachs.
“I won’t hurt you ever again. I promise.” He tucked his hand into the pocket of his jeans and bunched up his face with a look of pure helplessness when she still made no move.
“I know I didn’t act very civilized before,” he began again. “But I did apologize. Can’t we make a new start? Maybe we could talk…get to know each other better. Please?”
Oh, yeah. Randi wanted desperately to know him better. Her gaze traveled down the length of him, taking in her daddy’s chambray work shirt stretched tightly across Manny’s broad chest. He’d left the top three buttons open. She doubted they’d cover his muscles, anyway, but open like that they left nearly half of his torso in plain view. She stared at the dark, curly hair covering his bronzed skin and gulped.
Her fingers shook reflexively at the sight of his chest, and she fisted them to keep still. She’d never in her life seen anything quite so compelling. With a supreme effort at controlling her urges, she forced herself not to jump up and test the feel of his body. Her good sense told her to be careful—to go slow.
Talk about uncivilized. What she wanted right now definitely qualified as primal.
When she could pull away from the sight of all that skin, she dropped her gaze down the rest of him—across the leather belt he’d used to draw her father’s jeans tight and on down past the bulging mound of him encased in soft, well-washed blue denim.
Oh, my.
That view finally put her in motion. She turned, while carefully managing to avoid touching Manny.
“Do you like coffee? I can make some. It’s time I added wood to the stove, anyway.” She figured she was babbling, but couldn’t seem to stop.
“Yeah. I could go for coffee,” he murmured, picking up the baby’s basket and following her into the kitchen.
Manny wondered how he could ever make up for behaving like such an idiot. What had gotten into him? The young woman who’d just put coffee on the stove to boil was obviously innocent.
In eight years of undercover work he’d developed a life-saving instinct for detecting lies. He was usually right on target. His gut screamed at him for ever doubting her. Perhaps someone else on the ranch was involved with baby smugglers, but she wasn’t. Of that he was now positive. He doubted she’d ever even heard about such things.
While Randi scrambled some eggs using the same stove that heated the room and warmed their coffee, Manny fought to bring peace into the tension that surrounded the two stranded strangers and baby. “Can I do anything to help?”
She looked at him with amazement shining in her eyes.
“What? You don’t think I can cook?” he asked with a chuckle. “I’ll have you know my abuela insisted that all members of her family, male and female alike, should know how to take care of themselves.”
He found the bread bin