Chapter One
Rick McAllister dragged his hand over his stubbled face as he settled into the plastic airport seat while waiting to board the plane he’d be taking to Tucson. He was ready to get out of dreary San Francisco, back to Arizona, and home to his son.
And then catch those damn
coyotes
, the people-smugglers who’d managed to elude him for far too long. Especially the bastard known as
El Torero
.
It was dark outside, a slow drizzle rolling down the large panes of glass, and he was looking forward to Arizona sunshine. He pulled his black Stetson low so that he could observe people around him without being obvious. In his line of work as an Intelligence Agent with the U.S. Border Patrol, people-watching was a necessary skill. But now he was doing it to pass the time before his plane was scheduled to depart.
Hair at Rick’s nape prickled—he had the distinct feeling
he
was being watched. He casually looked to his left to see a young woman staring at the screen of a notebook computer. Something in his gut told him she’d been studying him a fraction of a second earlier.
And damned if it wasn’t the same woman he’d seen a couple of days ago at the Chinese restaurant when his sister had taken him there for lunch.
Rick pushed up the brim of his Stetson and raked his gaze over the woman. She sure was pretty, her shoulder-length hair the golden color of an Arizona sunrise. She had the type of shapely figure he preferred, nicely rounded and sexy as hell. From a gap in her pink silk blouse he could see a bit of lace covering her generous breasts, and her nipples pushed up against the soft material. His gaze traveled down to those long legs beneath the skirt that hit a couple of inches above her knees. Yeah, she sure had terrific legs and he’d bet she had a great ass—
He broke off his appraisal as the woman glanced up and her gaze met his. She had gorgeous eyes, warm and deep brown. Just like yesterday, the connection between Rick and the woman, for that fraction of time, was tangible. Like she’d lassoed him with that one look. She immediately blushed a pretty shade of pink and looked back at her computer.
Rick couldn’t help but grin. Damn, she was cute. She might be worth getting to know.
Well, hell
. Wasn’t it just last night he’d told his sister Callie that he didn’t want a relationship? In the five years since Lorraine’s death, he hadn’t met a single woman he was interested in pursuing. Not one. He’d gone on dates, but few and far between, and often just in the line of work. Yet there he was, fascinated with a stranger in an airport a thousand miles from home.
“Flight 1216 with non-stop service to Tucson is now boarding everyone with an A card,” announced a voice over the intercom. This particular airline had “cattle call” boarding with no assigned seats.
Rick stood, and he noticed the woman had slipped her laptop into a bag and was already walking toward the gate, giving him a nice view.
Yeah, she definitely had sexy legs, and she had a great ass, too.
Several passengers crowded in front of Rick, so he had to wait a while longer for his turn to board. When he finally made it onto the plane, he worked his way back and noticed the pretty blonde in a window seat, staring outside, and no one was sitting in the middle seat next to her.
He took off his Stetson and set it in the overhead compartment. With his big frame, he normally disliked sitting in the middle, but this time it would be just fine. Careful not to bump the woman, he eased into the seat next to her, extended the seatbelt, and buckled it.
A flight attendant helped an elderly lady put her bag into the overhead compartment, and then the lady sat next to Rick. He nodded to her and said, “Ma’am.”
The woman’s pale blue eyes held a hint of amusement. “You’re too polite to be a Californian.”
“Just spent a week in Frisco with my sister and her twins.” He smiled at the memory, wishing he’d been able to spend more time with his niece and nephew. If he hadn’t had to go to that briefing in San Diego beforehand, he could’ve taken his son Trevor to Callie’s with him. He sure missed the kid and looked forward to getting home.
“I’m visiting my grandchildren in Tucson.” The lady shook her head and sighed. “Hellions, all. Love them, but a weekend is about as much as I can handle. Now
those
kids could use some lessons in manners.”
She punctuated her statement with a jab of her fist in the air, then began digging through an enormous purse. “In here somewhere, I have pictures their father sent …”
Rick held back a grin and glanced at the woman in pink on his other side. Her forehead was pressed to the pane, and she was apparently lost in her thoughts. She sure smelled good. Real good. Like honeysuckle and soap, clean and fresh.
The windowpane felt cool against Lani’s forehead as she stared into the darkness. She couldn’t help thinking about her lunch with Theresa and Calinda a couple of days ago and seeing that same cowboy just now in the airport. She wouldn’t dare tell her friends or they’d razz her for not introducing herself to him.
And wait until she told Trace MacLeod—make that Trace Lawless now—whose idea it was for Lani to make this trip in the first place. Trace had come back to Arizona from England six months ago. After falling in love with a sexy cowboy named Jess Lawless, Trace married him and moved to Texas.
Lani sighed and turned her thoughts back to that gorgeous hunk of man in boots she’d seen in the restaurant and then again in the airport. She’d been so embarrassed to find him studying her from beneath his black cowboy hat. What incredible blue eyes he had—and that sexy grin could melt a woman’s soul. Thank goodness he hadn’t noticed her watching him a minute before. As a journalist she’d become a people-watcher, and lord, was that man something to watch.
Lani groaned. What was wrong with her? She had no interest in men after being married to the biggest asshole of the century. After seeing what her father had put her mother through when she was growing up, Lani should have known better. She should never have let James’ss lies make her believe in happily-ever-afters.
But as far as that cowboy, what harm was there in looking? Kind of like window shopping with no intention of sampling or buying the merchandise.
She was finally free, finally divorced from James.
“Good riddance, jerk,” she grumbled, her breath fogging the pane.
“Beg pardon?”
Lani jumped at the sound of the husky voice, so close that a shiver sprinted down her spine. As she whirled in the cramped seat, her elbow rammed hard flesh. Heat crept up her neck when she saw the cowboy’s blue eyes wince.
“I’m so sorry!” Her gaze swept over the tanned face, strong chin, and the chestnut hair that had been hidden under the cowboy hat earlier. “Did I hurt you?”
The man grabbed his side and grimaced as if in mortal pain. “I’m not sure I’ll live.”
He winked.
That familiar flush spread throughout Lani, the telltale blush that would redden her face from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. She offered a half-smile and turned back to the window.
Lights flashed on the wing and reflected on the wet asphalt, a steady rhythm in time with her throbbing pulse. She watched as a man guided the plane onto the runway. Her heart rate rocketed, her palms slick with sweat. The scar on her leg ached and she rubbed it through her skirt.
“I apologize if I embarrassed you,” the man beside her said, his voice low and disturbingly close.
A thrill rippled in her belly as she forced herself to face the man. “Not at all.”
“Rick McAllister.” White teeth flashed against tan skin as he smiled and offered his hand.
Lani caught his earthy scent of sun-warmed flesh and apples, and she fought the desire to dry her moist palm on her skirt before his calloused hand engulfed hers. His grasp sent tingles from her mons to her breasts, and she quickly pulled away.
“And your name, Ma’am?” he said in that slow and sexy voice that made her nipples even tighter.
“Oh.” She swallowed, feeling flustered and on edge. “I’m Lani. Lani Stanton.”
“Lainee,” Rick drawled, a slight, almost imperceptible country twang to his voice, and she shivered. “A pretty name for a pretty lady.”
Just the way he was looking at her, the way he said her name, made her want to squirm in her seat.
Good lord. If just talking to this man was making her feel like this, what would it feel like to really be with him?
Nope. Not going there.
She’d had it with men, and that was that.
The plane started to taxi down the runway, throwing Lani into her worst fear. All she could do was close her eyes tight, pray, and try to shove the heart-wrenching memories from her mind. Every muscle in her body tensed, and she gripped the armrests, as if the mere act would guide the plane into the air and keep it there.
At least until it was time to land.
“You all right?”
Lani heard his voice, but refused to open her eyes. Not until they were safely at cruising altitude.
Rick McAllister’s hand closed around hers, and he gave her fingers a comforting squeeze. The stranger’s touch startled her, but not enough to make her look at him or speak a word. It surprised her how his warm grasp calmed her nerves, if only for a few minutes.
As the craft lifted, her chest tightened, and her breath rasped out in shallow huffs. The rumble of the plane, the roar of the engines, the smell of burning fuel, the pause in the air conditioning, the way the pressure clamped down on her head…she hated it all.
Ten morbid thoughts later, she felt the plane level out, and in a rush, she released the breath she’d been holding. “I knew I should have driven,” she muttered.
The man chuckled. “All the way to Tucson from San Francisco?”
Lani opened one eye and peeked at him. “Yes.”
“Don’t you know flying is safer than driving?” He smiled, and she opened her other eye.
She sighed and allowed her muscles to relax. “Yeah. Right.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’m a pilot.”
“It doesn’t.” Feeling was coming back into Lani’s limbs, and she brushed a wisp of hair behind her ear. “You can let go of my hand now.”
“Sure.” A spark of mischief lit his blue eyes. But he didn’t move.
“What’ll you two have to drink?” the flight attendant asked before Lani had a chance to tell Rick exactly what she would do if he didn’t release her.
“I’ll have orange juice,” he said and turned to Lani. “What’ll you have, darlin’?”
She’d darlin’ him in a minute.
Lani asked the attendant for a diet soda. After the woman had taken their drink orders and moved to the next row, Rick said, “That stuff’ll kill you.”
“When I get my drink, it’s going in your lap if you don’t release my hand, cowboy.” She gave him a dangerous smile. One that could leave no doubt she intended to follow through with her threat.
“I give up.” He raised his hands in mock self-defense, coming within a breath of hitting the woman on the other side of him. He was truly too big for the seat, his broad shoulders and chest spanning the width.
“Pardon, Ma’am,” he said to the elderly woman, who patted his knee and then returned to showing a stack of photographs to the man across the aisle.
Lani reached up to open the air vent, and punched the button for the reading light. Yes, the cowboy was definitely too handsome for his own good.
While she dug in her laptop bag, she felt the intensity of Rick’s presence, but avoided looking at him. Where was it? Ah, there. She withdrew the spiral-bound notebook and slipped on her gold-rimmed reading glasses.
Theresa had loved the idea of the immigration feature. It would be the most comprehensive feature Lani had written, and she intended to make it the best series of articles any reporter had done on the subject of illegal immigration along the Mexican border.
Lani was looking forward to the experience with desperate enthusiasm. What better way to distance herself from James and all the bad memories?
“What’re you working on?” Rick asked as she began jotting down questions for her feature.
“I’m a journalist.” She shifted her attention from her notepad to the cowboy. “I’m writing a few notes for a feature I’m doing.”
“For a newspaper?” He looked genuinely interested, and Lani found herself warming to his friendliness.
“I write for
City by the Bay
.” She rustled in her bag, pulled out a copy and handed it to him. “It’s a San Francisco-based magazine that primarily carries local interest stories, but occasionally runs features on national topics.”
Rick’s fingers brushed hers as he took the magazine. Lani caught her breath at the tingle that skittered within her at the innocent contact. Her eyes cut to his, to see if he’d noticed, but he seemed intent on flipping through the magazine.
“That’s the current issue.” She pulled off her glasses and slid them back into their case. “I wrote a feature on single-parenting. My pseudonym is Lane E. Stanton.”
He cocked an eyebrow and his gaze met hers. “You’re a single parent?”
“My editor assigned the story.” Her smile faltered. “I don’t have any children. But I wish I did.”
Before Rick could ask her anything more personal, she said, “So, what do you do?”