The Gentrys: Cinco. Linda Conrad

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The Gentrys: Cinco - Linda  Conrad


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shook his head in disgust and turned toward the car’s trunk. “Why couldn’t you have brought me an honest-to-God barroom brawler? Some guy I could knock a little sense into and kick around when the waiting gets on our nerves.”

      “Give Frosty a chance, Gentry. She’s a no-maintenance female and could probably kick you farther than the last fence post on Gentry Ranch.” Kyle grinned and opened the trunk.

      “And that’s another thing. What the hell kind of name is Frosty, anyway?” Cinco didn’t feel the least bit better about his unintended guest.

      “Most pilots in the armed services have nicknames.” Kyle shrugged. “Earned in training usually.”

      “What’d she do to earn that one?”

      “Nothing.” Kyle pulled a duffel and a briefcase from the car and slammed the trunk lid.

      At Cinco’s exasperated expression, he continued. “She never flinched, never looked scared, never raised a sweat during all of training. It was like she had ice water in her veins. And only once did anyone see some jackass come on to her. She frosted him but good. No one ever dared it again.”

      “Ah. I get it. Ice water…Frosty.” Cinco grabbed his friend’s shoulder, preventing him from moving across the yard and into the warmth of the house. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d been convinced yet.

      “What’s the matter with you, Gentry?” Kyle squirmed under Cinco’s hand. “It’s not like you to simply ignore a person in distress. And it’s really out of character for you to shirk your responsibilities to anyone who might need your shelter.” Kyle jerked his shoulder free and shifted his grip on the bags.

      Ah, hell. Kyle knew him too damn well. His friend had just played his best card. The moment Cinco had learned she was the witness from the TV news accounts of the shooting of General VanDerring, he knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—turn her away. But that didn’t mean he had to like being manipulated this way.

      The real problem suddenly became clear as glass. What on earth was he supposed to do with this Amazon woman? Why he’d even be willing to bet she’d be better on a computer than he was, although that’d be stretching it some.

      He scrubbed a hand across his face. This had just turned into the worst twenty-four hours he’d spent since that endless day twelve years ago when all he could do was hang on and pray it was all a dream. Starting last night, when his brother, Cal, called to say he’d gotten some racing groupie pregnant and was going to marry her. Then continuing with Abby calling to say she’d decided not to stay in school for her master’s because she wanted to come home and take over the ranch foreman’s job.

      Now this.

      “Geez, Kyle. What the devil am I supposed to do with a female while I’m giving her safe harbor?”

      Kyle threw him a wry grin. “How the hell should I know? I said I don’t think of her as female, I think of her as a pilot…and I haven’t the foggiest idea what there is to do out here in cowboy land.”

      When Cinco grimaced and cursed under his breath, Kyle quickly tried to smooth it over. “Look, Gentry. Just give her a break will you? She’s been through a lot in the past few months. First, her father suddenly dies of a heart attack. Then, just as she’s about to fly her boss home from his last Pentagon meeting before she retires from the Air Force for good…she watches him die in a hail of bullets that could very easily have taken her down, too.”

      Kyle turned, continuing as he headed toward the Gentry family’s homestead and the warmth of the kitchen, “But whatever you do decide to do, keep her off the Internet and out of a plane. Either one of those two things could bring an abrupt ending to the feds’ star witness against Richard Rourke. And we certainly can’t afford to lose a client…or turn this into some kind of media circus.”

      No, Cinco thought, he’d been there and done that. One media circus per lifetime was about all he could stand, thank you.

      Kyle stood at the door with his hands full of Frosty’s baggage, waiting for Cinco to swing it open for him. “And it wouldn’t do Cyber-Investigations’ reputation as security specialists any good to lose such a major client, now would it?”

      “You know Kyle well?” Meredith asked as she placed her used coffee mug in the sink.

      She and her host had just come inside the house after watching Kyle’s Jaguar pull out of the yard and head toward civilization. And freedom.

      “We go back about thirteen years.” Cinco leaned his elbows against the kitchen counter and crossed his ankles in front of him. “We went to MIT together.”

      “MIT?” She suddenly realized she’d been slouching again and deliberately straightened her shoulders. “You went to MIT?”

      A real grin began to spread across his features. But he quickly contained it and only managed to look amused instead.

      “Aw, shucks, ma’am. What’s that ol’ saying my daddy used to have?” He stared up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, with an expression on his face that said at the moment this was the most important thing he had to do in the world. “Oh, yeah. I remember. You can’t always judge the bite by the sound of the snake’s rattle.

      “Take this house, for instance.” He swung his arm around in a circle. “From the outside, you can’t tell what it’s supposed to be. But with enough time for a little study, you’ll find remnants of the hearts and souls of each of the five generations that have made it a home.”

      Meredith knew her too-fair skin was betraying her once again. She could feel the burn of embarrassment creep up her neck and plant itself high on her cheeks. No amount of schooled features could hide what she was feeling. It was her curse.

      She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to find some words that wouldn’t make her sound like a complete idiot. “Sorry. This situation doesn’t exactly bring out the best in me. I didn’t mean to imply…”

      He waved off her apology. But instead of letting her off the hook entirely, he pinned her with a silent stare that made her feel squirmy and bewildered.

      She blinked, realizing that the man actually bothered her. Not only with his chiseled good looks, but on some deeper level. Someplace buried within her that she really didn’t care to go.

      But no man ever bothered her. Not even… Oh, no. She wouldn’t think about the jerk from her past along with everything else right now. She once again buried the memories of a man she’d vowed to forget.

      Well, maybe it was Cinco’s size. Though that wasn’t all there was to it. Those broad shoulders and wide-palmed hands seemed made for soothing…protecting. Not as if they’d ever be raised in anger.

      She shook her head to clear those old scary thoughts of anger and wrath. Surely this odd feeling when Cinco looked at her came from something simple and straightforward. Maybe it was that Texas drawl of his—even when he wasn’t putting the accent over-the-top for her benefit. Slow and as cocky as his grin, his words oozed charm and made her think of streaky sunshine over rose and blue clouds at 40,000 feet.

      Meredith pulled herself out of her thoughts. She’d been lost in them for too long. An awkward silence had settled over the kitchen, and his gaze had become more of a curious perusal. She needed to think of some diversion. Fast.

      “Uh. Five generations did you say?”

      He nodded silently and crossed his own arms over his chest.

      It finally hit her. “And you’re the fifth…Cinco.”

      “Si, señorita.” He straightened and bowed slightly. “Theodore Aloysius Gentry V, at your service.”

      “Theodore? Aloysius?” She tried desperately to keep the chuckle out of her voice.

      He made a face, then sighed. “Yeah, I know. Very old-fashioned and not very Spanish sounding, is it? Well, when the first Theo settled here and married Maria Alonso Aragon


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