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“I understand about family. I’m from Wyoming and my family owns a ranch that was established in 1866. It’s our legacy,” he whispered, his eyelids getting heavy.
It was a good thing he was shipping out soon. This woman pushed many buttons, some he didn’t know he even had…maybe an ocean away wasn’t enough to save him.
* * *
A cascade shivered through Mari and her camisole top suddenly felt too tight across her breasts, her nipples aching at the rub of the lace against them. He was special ops. That much she’d gleaned from the DEA who had descended en masse onto their property. She wasn’t alarmed or shocked by their presence. Her family cooperated with law enforcement whenever they needed to. The peaceful Costa Rica was changing into a morass of murder and corruption from the manipulation of the Mexican and Colombian drug cartels. They sometimes had problems from nearby Nicaragua.
Now that she’d found out he was from Wyoming, everything seemed to drop into place. That deep, sexy drawl in his voice, the look of danger about him, a man who thrived on risk and adventure. His too-long, tousled black hair and the dark stubble shadowing his lean jaw only added to that tantalizing image. She could see him in a cowboy hat, astride a horse. Another shiver went down her spine. Then there were those stunning, piercing forest-green eyes of his that had the ability to tempt a woman to sin. With him. In many different ways.
Mari sighed, and as if he knew exactly where her thoughts had traveled, a slow, disarming smile tipped up the corners of his sensual mouth, bringing to life an instantaneous awareness that coiled low and deep in her belly. Her attraction to this man was undeniable, like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
“Family is everything,” she said, and she meant it. “I've been working for La Buena Tierra my whole life, from cradle to adulthood. It has consumed every moment of my life when I’m not sleeping.” She loved every leaf, plant, bean, rock, and river on the property, loved the process of making coffee for enjoyment, loved her ideas to expand, and loved working so closely with every member of her extended family. A built-in support system when garnering advice or needing help in every aspect of their lives, Mari’s sisters and brother were her best friends.
In Costa Rica, it was all in the family. Unlike North Americans, she lived on the plantation with her sisters, their husbands and children, her brother, and his wife and children, her paternal grandparents, and her parents. Her maternal grandparents lived in San Diego as her mother was from the United States, her grandfather a prominent lawyer. Mari held dual citizenship.
Buck chuckled, then winced, ending the laughter with a small groan. He was in terrible pain. Unable to help herself, she set her hand against his arm, finding rock-solid muscle and tantalizing heat. His muscles flexed, and his breathing hitched. “I’m so sorry,” she said in a suddenly breathy voice. “Is there something I can do?”
He shook his head. “I’ll get treatment soon enough, and I have no idea what they gave me so far.” She leaned in close as his lashes fell to half-mast over his beguiling green eyes. It was easy to see he was fading and all she could feel was disappointment.
She was at a loss with that herself. The medic, Zorro, an interesting man with an interesting call name, had tended to all of them tirelessly, finally assisting her sister in the care of their lieutenant who apparently was someone of great importance to all of them. They had asked about him often.
His eyes drifted closed, and his breathing grew deeper and slower. She was about to leave and find out what was going on when his hand lifted, and he reached out and gently wound a strand of hair around his finger. Feeling ensnared by his alluring look, in more ways than one, was a very dangerous thing.
“Too bad I don’t have time to get to know you better,” he said. “I might be too fast and too intense for you.”
Something rang out like a tuning fork aligning to a similar tone. “What if I like it fast and intense?”
He blinked, drawing her attention to those long, sooty lashes and his vivid green eyes, then his grin broadened with shameless intent. “Then I’d say you sound just like my kind of cowgirl.” His voice dropped to a low, husky pitch, and a slow hum of arousal infused her veins.
Regardless of the circumstances that made this all so bittersweet, she hadn’t felt this alive in a long time, not with any man, and she had a lot of propositions. But this smooth-talking, handsome cowboy was nothing like them. He was pure, unadulterated charm.
Releasing her hair, he dragged a finger along her jaw and caressed down the side of her neck. Her skin ached at his touch, her body shivering all over.
“The next time we meet, heartbreaker,” he murmured as his gaze dropped to her mouth. “It’ll be fast and fierce, then slow and hot.” Even in his weakened and injured state, he exuded an abundance of male confidence and sex appeal that should have been illegal. His hand dropped back to his heart, giving her an edgy look before he went out like a light.
She scoffed softly. She was sure he was the heartbreaker. That was if she wasn’t as worldly as he was. Someone could have sex and keep her heart intact. She’d been on the receiving end of emotional upheaval before. Despite the danger, there was something so irresistible and charismatic about him. Yet there was something else about him beyond the physical that drew her. Damn, she wanted to find out what that was.
Other than the fact that he had bad boy written all over him…
She inhaled a hard breath…bad boy cowboy to boot. She really wasn’t in the market for any kind of relationship right now. She just didn’t have the time. The stark fact was that her job and family obligations kept her crazy busy. But if they were to meet again, and the chance of that was slim to none, Buck and his sexy smile and body to die for was the only distraction she would allow herself.
“Ma’am?”
The deep voice brought her out of her sensuous and fleeting thoughts of what it would be like to be with him.
“Yes.” She looked up to find Zorro, who looked dead on his feet. His cuts and bruises were stark on his face and arms, a gash on his leg. She could see her sister’s handiwork in all of the bandages, stitches, and butterflies he sported. “We’re getting ready to move everyone out. We can’t thank you enough for all your help, especially your sister’s amazing medical skills. Joker’s been stabilized enough to travel—” His voice broke, the terrible ordeal they had all been through finally catching up to him now that the danger was over. He set his hands on his hips and tilted his head back, looking at the sky. It was a moment before he gathered his composure. “She saved his life, and we’re on our way back to the States.” His voice sounded crushed, and his eyes blinked furiously. She rose, compassion twisting her heart. When she reached him, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tight.
“You’re so welcome. Please take care and have a safe flight back.”
Two of her field workers walked over and picked up the stretcher, and she followed them to the chopper that was just landing on a stretch of dusty road. They set him down as more of her people brought the remaining stretchers.
She knelt in the pebbles and dirt, the pressure of it pressing into her skin, and reached out and touched his unshaven jaw, sighing at the rough, arousing texture against her fingertips. “Goodbye, Buck.” He never even stirred, and she turned away from the chopper, heading back to the hacienda to tackle her work for the day.
She took a long, hot shower to wash off blood, dirt, and mud, the spray of the water tantalizing against her aching nipples, her thoughts still on the sexy spec ops warrior. She gasped softly when she washed between her legs, yearning for something elusive, something that had more to do with life than with sex. She shrugged her shoulders at her ridiculous and slippery thoughts.
Her life was here. Would always be here. There was no her. There was only family.
She turned off the water and dried herself off, then dressed in a black T-shirt, gray overalls, and a pair of sturdy black boots. She shrugged into a blue chambray button-down shirt and grabbed her straw hat off the hook near the door.
