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“Damned if I ain’t willing as hell right now. Able…” he sighed roughly. “Dammit. I’m going to be asleep in five minutes flat.”
Marly smiled at the disgust in his tone, despite the heat radiating in her body.
“Go to sleep then. We’re both tired. Maybe tomorrow you’ll tell me what really happened tonight.”
His big body tensed.
“That wolf is dangerous, Marly,” he whispered, his voice so dark and haunted she shivered. “Stay close to the house, and don’t go out alone anymore.”
“A wolf wouldn’t come into the ranch yard, Cade,” she reminded him.
“A rabid wolf will show up anywhere,” he muttered. “Just do as I say. Just for now.”
Marly frowned. There was more to it than a wolf, and she knew it. But she knew Cade was not yet willing to tell her whatever was actually going on.
“You hear me, Marly?” His voice was slow, almost slurred as sleep caught up on him.
“I hear you, Cade,” she told him softly. “Go to sleep, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
* * * * *
He was sore, aroused, and pissed. Cade stood at the French doors of his study and listened to Sam and Brock arguing behind him.
“You didn’t have to call them,” Brock bit out furiously, not for the first time. “We can handle this ourselves.”
“Oh yeah, you handled it real well last night,” Sam assured him sarcastically. “Cade got shot, and you twisted your ankle, and the bastard got clean away without even knowing who he was.”
“It was dark—” Brock began.
“It was a damned stupid move and you know it,” Sam bit out furiously. “We’re not trained for something like this. We need help.”
Anger. It pulsed and throbbed between the three of them, a remnant, not just of the danger the night before, but of the past. There was no longer the illusion of control. It had slipped dangerously through their fingers. They had to find their way back into the structured stability they had built for themselves.
“He’s right.” Cade turned from the doors and faced his brothers now. “We need to concentrate on protecting Marly. That means someone trained at tracking bastards like this is needed. We can’t fight this alone.”
He watched Brock snarl an obscenity.
“When will they be here?” he asked Sam.
“Tomorrow,” Sam told him in relief. “I talked to their boss this morning. Their names are—”
“Rick and Tara Glaston,” Brock growled.
Cade glanced at Brock, knowing his fury was directed at the situation, not the bodyguards.
“I want this kept from Marly,” Cade warned them both quietly. “Sam, you meet them before they get to the ranch, I don’t care where. They’re friends, and they’re just visiting. I don’t want Marly to know what the hell’s going on.”
Sam rolled his eyes.
“Cade, we can’t keep this from her,” he warned him quietly. “Marly’s not stupid.”
“I’ll take care of Marly, and I’m very well aware of the fact that she’s not stupid. I want her protected from this.”
“You think she doesn’t know we’re lying to her about that damned wolf?” Sam bit out. “Get serious here.”
“You heard me.” He moved slowly back to his desk, lowering himself to it slowly.
“What about her bedroom?” Brock asked. “He has a clear view into her room from several different angles. And Marly keeps those damned shades open on her balcony doors.”
