Authors: Janis McCurry
“We’re not listening to your preferred noise, either. Have they ever heard of compromise where you come from?” He doubted it.
“That depends.” She looked wary. “What've you got in mind?”
He tuned in another channel and the strains of a Chopin piano concerto filled the car. “Classical?”
“Well, I must say you’ve surprised me, Steven Darryl.” Tess smiled.
He loved her smile. The brightness made him want to smile. “Give it up, Contessa.”
“Never. I
will
figure out your first name. Do you listen to classical music when you’re not trying to make a point?”
“When I feel like it. I taught a class in music appreciation once when I was a teaching assistant.”
“You’re teasing me.” Her eyes were suspicious as she shook her head.
Bailey grinned at her amazement. “I told you before there are a lot of things you don’t know about me. This is one of them. I took Fine Arts in college. Got my Master’s in it.” For a moment, it seemed like this was a normal excursion between two people enjoying the beautiful summer day.
“And you ended up a bounty hunter? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I sort of fell into it. It’s a long story and not all that exciting. Maybe I'll tell you sometime. We’ll be in Tahoe in about ten minutes.” He hadn’t shared this kind of personal information with anyone. It felt good with Tess, but he wasn’t sure how smart it was. He’d learned that spilling your guts to someone didn’t always turn out for the best.
“Okay, but I’m holding you to it. I guess I do have a lot to learn about you.” Her puzzled stare sought answers he wasn’t ready to give her.
As they pulled into Lake Tahoe, Bailey wondered if he hadn’t taken on more than he could handle. He wasn’t worried about tracking down the bail jumper. This was a routine case—except for Tess. Every time he looked into those expressive blue eyes, the reason he was supposed to be in Tahoe faded away.
She made him want to walk along the lake, hold hands, and shop for cheesy souvenirs to show the folks back home. If he didn’t watch out, he’d be the one caught in the net. The hell of it was he couldn’t think of a single reason to object.
* * *
Danny McLeod parked his Ford Ranger to the side of the circular drive. He got out and looked at the house. What he wouldn’t give for property like this. Set back from the lake road and surrounded by forest, its design was contemporary rather than the rustic log cabin-style of most. The original builder had nestled it among the pine trees, which softened the geometric lines. He couldn’t wait to start work on the interior. If he couldn’t own the place, he could be instrumental in bringing it up to its full potential.
Rand Devere opened the door with one hand. She motioned him in while listening on her cell phone. He closed the door and followed her into the kitchen. She mouthed “sorry” to him and said to the caller, “I have company. I’ll call you back.” She ended the call and put her phone on the counter.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
She laughed. “You saved me from my boss. You gave me a good excuse to get off the phone.”
Wearing Levi cut-offs and a blue tank top with her hair in a messy knot on top of her head, he thought she looked as sexy as hell. Barefoot, she wore a thin gold chain around her ankle, a startling contrast to her tanned legs.
Keep your mind on the job, McLeod
.
“Did you make any decisions about the remodel?”
“Some.” She shrugged. “There are a lot of options to consider.”
On her shoulder, he saw a small tattoo of a Celtic trinity knot. Probably every guy of Irish extraction had been taught by his granny what it meant.
She cleared her throat. “Like my tattoo?”
“Sorry. Clan McLeod. Couldn’t help but notice. It’s beautiful.” He might have just blown his chance to work on the place.
She studied him. “Thanks.”
She didn’t show him the door. Relieved, he said, “Do you have any questions about any of those options?”
She looked at him, then fidgeted. “I feel like a kid busted for blowing off homework.”
“It’s your nickel.” He walked over to the breakfast table near the patio doors. “Mind if I sit?”
“Of course not.” She took a seat across from him. “I want to start with the master bathroom.”
“Good. Once I take some measurements, we can pick out materials.” Something told him she wouldn’t ask for a pink bathroom. It would be fun to find out what she planned.
“Grade me an incomplete. I can’t decide on what I want.”
“How much do you want to spend?”
“No clue.”
“You’re not much help, are you, Ms. Devere?” He smiled to soften his words.
“Sorry. Call me Miranda…or Rand. Ms. and Mr. seem a bit formal since I’m giving you a key to my house. I’ll be away at work and you’ll need access. May I call you Danny?”
“Please do. I’ll stick with Rand. It suits you.” He leaned back in the chair. “All right. We’ll start from the beginning. I asked you to think about what makes you happy.”
“I remember.” She straightened.
“Shower or bath?”
“Shower.” She shrugged. “Baths take too long.”
“Not a bubble bath fan.” He made a note. “Got it.”
“Wait. Sometimes, a bubble bath is the only way to forget a hard day.” She fidgeted. “This is harder than I thought.
“When I measure the master bath, I’ll see if there’s room for both a walk-in shower and a spa tub.” He made additional notations. “Primary or secondary colors.”
“Depends.”
“That’s cheating.” She carried herself in a way that he would describe as elegant. She was gorgeous to look at, but she also had a grace about her.
“Tough guy. Secondary.”
“Dog or cat.”
“No contest. Dog, but not until I’m settled.”
“Amazing Race or Survivor?”
“Shoot me if I ever get sucked into either. I think they’re good for ‘guilty pleasures’ but anyone who thinks those shows are
reality
need a reality check themselves.”
“Your guilty pleasure?” This question had nothing to do with remodeling. Everything about her interested him.
“I’m thirsty.” She jumped up. “You?”
“I’m fine.”
Got it.
When it came to her personal life, she didn’t like people poking around.
Rand filled a glass with ice water and returned to the table. “I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Explain how my answers have helped remodel the bathroom.”
“No can do.” He scanned her face. The flawless symmetry appealed to his architectural background. Her incredible green eyes were set perfectly, balancing her cheekbones and the generous fullness of her lips. A work of art.
She frowned. “Unless I woke up in an alternate universe, I thought you worked for me.”
“Ms. Devere, you’re frustrated because you can’t decide on a design theme. Just a hunch, but if I start talking about materials, colors, and tiles, you’ll deck me.”
“That’s a little strong, but I don’t disagree. I’m a bit impatient.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Okay, a lot. How did you figure that out so fast?”
“You wear your emotions on your face.”
A damned near irresistible face at that.
Too bad he worked for her. He’d never been involved with a boss yet and he didn’t plan to start.
“I most certainly do not.” She looked offended.
“It’s not a bad thing. What’s the problem?” He’d meant it as compliment. He’d enjoyed watching the change of expression when she answered his silly questions.
“I’m very successful in my work.”
“I get that. I figured you were since you bought property here.”
What is she getting at?
“You’ve never asked what I did for a living.” She watched him as if waiting for some kind of reaction from him..
“It’s none of my business.”
“I’m a bounty hunter.”
“You catch—” That surprised him.
“—bail jumpers.” She drew circles in the condensation on her glass. “Anyway, I get in many situations where I depend on my skill to dissemble. If you can figure out my expressions, that’s a problem.”
“I’ve always been good at reading people.” Rand’s disclosure caught him off guard, but intrigued the hell out of him. A bounty hunter, huh. He bet she was a crack shot and studied martial arts.
“I hope so because I have bills to pay and you’re going to be adding to the pile.”
“That’s the first thing a new homeowner learns.” He laughed and, after a moment, she joined him.
“Oh my gosh. Are you missing an empathy chip?” She reached over and punched him in his upper arm.
“You? Living in house like this? Yeah, I feel real bad for you.” Her face lit up when she smiled. If he had his say, he’d make it happen often. “About this bounty hunter thing. Does that mean you can kick my ass?”
“Count on it.” They both laughed.
The insistent beep of an alarm went off. Rand looked down at her watch and silenced it. “Sorry, I have an appointment.”
“We didn’t get very far.” He had an idea for the remodel, but wasn’t sure how she’d take it.
“Mr. MacLeod—”
“It’s Danny, remember? You can’t call someone you hit ‘Mr.’”
“Please. That was a little tap.” She looked at him. “Shake?”
Her grasp was firm and warm. Much better than a clammy, weak handshake. So far, he liked everything about her.
* * *
Tess was unpacking when a brisk knock sounded on the connecting foyer door. Bailey had told her he had an errand to run and to wait in her hotel room until he picked her up, so they could check out the town. She gazed at the door. It would be hard to get used to having him on the other side of the wall.
She unlatched the lock and opened it. Leaning against the entry with a smug grin on his face, Bailey straightened and sauntered into the room carrying a large garment bag.
“Don’t tell me your errand was shopping. I’m beginning to think there’s more and more you’re not telling me about yourself. I would have never pegged you as a shopaholic.” She followed him to the sitting area.
“Actually, this is for you.” Bailey laid the bag across the loveseat. “Go ahead and open it.”
“It looks too big to be my own personalized handcuffs, but—” She gasped as she pushed aside the gold tissue wrapped around a sparkling fuchsia cocktail dress. “Bailey, I...this is gorgeous, but...I don’t think I should accept it. This must have cost a fortune.”
“Number one, the client bought it. Number two, you have to look the part or our plan won’t work. Number three, I knew this dress belonged on you the minute I saw it.” His eyes glowed as he watched her.
Tess was touched, or more accurately, she wanted to be.
By him
. “Well, in that case, I love it.” She walked over to him and kissed his cheek.
Bailey ducked his head like a surprised high school boy. Tess detected a hint of pink across his cheeks, which further endeared him to her.
He cleared his throat. “Great digs, huh, Contessa? A lot of the places I’ve set up shop in weren’t a tenth as nice as this one. Like I said, my clients really want Monroe and are willing to pay big bucks for me to get him.”
“You’re right. I’ve never been in a Harrah’s but this certainly has to be top of the line. Are we going to the police department first?”
“That’ll be a cold day in hell.” He laughed. “The first thing you learn in this business, Contessa, is that you stay away from the cops. State laws vary and even though bounty hunting is legal in Nevada, most cops don’t take kindly to us on their turf. It’s better to get in, grab the guy and get out of town, so to speak.”
“Let me get this straight. We’re evading the local authorities? You left that little tidbit out. I don’t like it.” Tess looked at her suitcase. It wouldn’t take too long to repack and leave.
“Hold on. I have all I need to get the guy. It’s legal in most of the other states, including Oregon where Monroe embezzled the money. Bounty hunters don’t need to take training or be licensed and some lowlifes have given us a bad name.” He held up his hand like a Boy Scout. “I’m the best and I belong to the Bounty Hunters of America.”
“You guys even have a club? God help us all.”
“A professional association. Don’t forget we’re the good guys.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “It only took me one time to learn that the guys I go after are being chased for a reason.”
He rubbed his knee. “Unfortunately, it was after I let my guard down because I believed one con’s line of crock.”
“What happened?” She didn’t know if she wanted to hear what was coming.
“He pushed me out of a two-story window and I tore up my knee. Each time it starts to hurt serves as a reminder not to get sucked in again.” He frowned.
Tess closed the distance between them. “I’m sorry. Do you have much trouble with it?”
“Not really, although I can’t run the distances I used to.” He shrugged. “The doctor said the more physical aspects of my work would aggravate it.”