Home > Last Kiss (First and Last #2)(23)

Last Kiss (First and Last #2)(23)
Author: Laurelin Paige

He grinned as his other hand traced down the line of my neck. “Maybe I should cancel dinner and feast on you instead. Right here, on this deck where everyone can see.”

Please. It was on the tip of my tongue, ready to fall into the tiny space of air between us like a white flag of surrender.

But as much as I wanted to be lost in him, I needed reassuring more. “Reeve, is Amber safe right now?”

He pulled back slightly, but I still noticed his body tense. “As long as she’s under my protection, yes.”

“How can you be so sure?”

The way he searched my eyes, I could tell he understood that I wasn’t just asking about Amber’s security – I was asking him to explain it all. Inviting him to tell me everything.

Yet all he said was, “Because Michelis respects me. Therefore he’ll show respect for that which he perceives as mine.”

I turned my head to study the horizon, hoping he didn’t see the hurt in my gaze. “It didn’t stop him before,” I said, wondering how much of the perception he’d mentioned was based in reality.

“Before was different. She went to him on her own. I couldn’t protect her when she walked into his arms.”

“Then she’s safe as long as she’s here?” What I meant was, Does that mean she can never leave you?

And I couldn’t tell if he understood what I was really asking when his answer was simply, “Yes.”

“Looks like I’m interrupting,” Joe said from behind us.

Reeve’s hands fell to my sides, but he kept them on me, kept me pinned as he twisted to acknowledge the intruder. “Of course you’re not interrupting.” His fingers stroked my hips possessively. “Have a seat. Please.” Reeve gestured to the patio table that had already been set with a white tablecloth, utensils, and cloth napkins.

I started numbly toward Joe, my head still wrapped up in Amber, but Reeve held me in place.

“Not so fast.” His tone reminded me that he was the one who dictated my actions. He leaned in close, letting his breath rush hot against my ear. “I wonder, if I make him watch, will he try to rescue you when you start screaming or will he wait until I wrap my hands around your throat?” He drew back to let me see the glint in his eye. “Fascinating question, isn’t it?”

My heart raced, and I forgot why I’d had even a second of jealousy. Even when he abruptly released me and went to join Joe at the table.

It took several seconds to compose myself before I was able to walk the few steps to them and even longer before I could look Joe in the face without turning scarlet. Hopefully he’d assume my flushed skin was from the fire pits that surrounded us – an elegant touch that provided both light as the sun went down and enough warmth to keep out the April evening chill.

Conversation was casual and easy – easier than I’d expected between Joe and Reeve. They chatted about the land and the ins and outs of ranching and the luxury hotels that Reeve owned. Though, while each question from the investigator seemed in line with typical small talk, I could practically hear the gears turning in his head, processing each of Reeve’s answers and filing it away for later in categories with labels like Suspicious, Follow-up, and Miscellaneous.

It was hard to guess whether Reeve caught it as well. He didn’t give any indication that he was on guard any more than usual, but that was the thing about Reeve – he was subtle in the way he held his cards. So subtle, it was almost impossible to discern whether he was even playing the game.

As had been the case in Palm Springs, dinner was served from a warming cart, our plates having already been dished up in the kitchen so a staff member could place them in front of us still piping hot. Another server poured wine for each of us. There was a fourth set of utensils on the table, but no food was laid there. For Brent, maybe, who’d probably gotten caught up with the visiting ranchers.

“Joe says there are extra guests here this week?” I asked, before putting a forkful of garden salad in my mouth, the raspberry vinaigrette dressing surprising me in its decadence. The entire meal was a contradiction to the surroundings, just like Reeve was in a place like Kaya. Even in a rugged environment, he brought luxury.

He swirled the wine in his glass, the merlot thick and heavy as it spun. “Our visitors are men from another ranch.” He paused, and I wondered if that was all he’d say.

But after he took a swallow of his drink, he set the glass down and went on. “They always come out for a few days for the spring branding. Since we aren’t set up to handle a large herd of cattle, we sell a portion of the calves to the Callahans. We also don’t have modern branding machinery, so they send up men to help us do it the old-fashioned way. We mark half with the Kaya brand and the other half with theirs. They leave with a truckload of cattle and our numbers are more manageable.”

“Cowboy stuff,” I said with a wink. Even with the opulent touches, it was strange seeing Reeve wearing the hat of ranch owner, though, really, it wasn’t much different than the hat of business tycoon. Both roles fit his authoritative personality. Both roles looked equally good on him.

“Cowboy stuff,” Reeve repeated with a chuckle. “It’s an occasion the men all look forward to. Lots of drunkenness will be had in the main hall tonight, I assure you.”

“Any reason we need to be concerned about any of them?” Joe voiced my own thoughts. I’d eaten with the ranchers when they’d been drunk before – when Reeve was out of town, even.

“Not at all,” he answered.

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