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In the hotel lobby, she passed the desk without stopping and made for the elevators. She could feel her heart thudding as she pressed the button for the eleventh floor. Room 1138. She didn’t need to recheck the number on her phone. She knew it by heart.
The elevator stopped with a slight bump. Tess followed the direction signs down a long, thickly carpeted hallway to the numbered door. What if he didn’t answer, or even had company? What if she was about to make a fool of herself?
She rapped lightly. The door opened at once. Brock stood there in his jeans, his feet bare, the collar of his denim shirt open at the throat. “Come on in, Tess,” he said, closing the door behind her and slipping the lock. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here, but I took the liberty of ordering from room service. In case you’re hungry, it arrived just a few minutes ago.”
Walking into the room, lit by a single lamp, she saw the coffee table in front of the sofa set with a white cloth, napkins, silver, two crystal goblets, and a tray covered with a silver dome lid. The drapes were open. The floor-to-ceiling window offered a west-facing view of the town, which spread below like a mosaic of light and dark. From here, she could see the arena. She could even see the street and the partial roof of the motel where she’d rented a room.
On the wall opposite the sofa, a large flat-screen TV, blank and silent for now, was mounted above a cabinet. The sight of it triggered a harsh reminder. She glanced at the wall clock. It was about time for the Cowboy Channel broadcast. She forced herself to mention it.
“Hey, while we eat, we can turn on the TV and watch my interview with Tex Poulson. You might as well see the worst and get it over with.”
Brock guided her toward the sofa with his hand at the small of her back. The light pressure of his touch sent rivulets of warmth trickling down her body. “Sorry, watching TV isn’t what I had in mind,” he said.
“It’ll be on in a few minutes. Are you saying you don’t want to watch?”
“What I’m saying is, we’re not going to see it.” He turned her toward him, looking down at her with one eyebrow cocked in amusement. “What I mean is that the interview isn’t going to run.”
She stared up at him, bewildered. “What do you mean it isn’t going to run?”
“Sit down.” He chuckled as he eased her onto the cushions. “After I read your message, I paid a call on Tex. He and I go back a few years. I can’t say we’ve ever been friends, but I know some secrets that could damage his career. I hinted—just hinted—that if he didn’t kill the interview, a few ugly rumors might raise their heads. He got the idea.”
“You blackmailed him!” Tess jabbed his chest with a finger.
“Would you rather have me pulverize his face or threaten him with a gun? It’s called damage control, sweetheart. Nobody got hurt, including you and me. Now let’s forget it and enjoy the rest of our time together.”
Tess sighed. “Please don’t think I’m ungrateful. I just wish I understood you better, that’s all.”
Lifting her chin with two fingertips, he studied her face. “You’re the purest person I’ve ever known, Tess. But I haven’t had that luxury. I’ve lied, manipulated, hurt people, even broken the law to get where I am today. If I could change my past, I’d do it for you in a heartbeat. But I can’t. I can’t even change the person I am now. So if you have a problem with me as I am, you’d better get up and leave, because I want you, and I’m in this game for keeps.”
He fell silent. A muscle twitched in his cheek. He’d opened his heart to her, leaving himself exposed and vulnerable. Knowing Brock’s pride, it could be one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
Tess found her voice. “I don’t know where or how this is going to end. I don’t even know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But I’m here, Brock. I’m here now.”
In the next breath they were in each other’s arms, devouring each other with kisses. With a strength that took her breath away, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the adjoining bedroom. The covers on the king-size bed were already turned down.
By the time he’d laid her on the bed, she was pulling his shirt off his shoulders in a frenzy of need. Tess had experienced desire, but unbridled lust, tempered with tenderness, was new to her. She was wild with wanting him.
While he stripped down and took a moment to protect her, she kicked off her boots, then lay back and let him peel off the layers of her clothes, kissing her as he removed her jeans, her panties, her shirt and bra. In the faint light from the other room, her gaze took in his glorious body, fit and hard, but mature, showing the first small signs of middle age. Perfect.
Their lovemaking was everything it had been in the desert, but deeper, more passionate, more tender and lingering than she could ever have imagined. When it was over, they lay side by side, deliciously spent.
“I don’t know about you,” Brock said, chuckling, “but I’ve worked up an appetite. If you’re hungry, we could eat and watchThe Late Showbefore we turn in.”
Tess stretched onto her side, facing him. “I’ll have a meal with you. But it might not be wise for me to spend the night. I’m sharing a motel room with Ruben, and he might worry if—”
An explosiveboominterrupted her words. The sound wasn’t close, but it was loud enough to reverberate through the window panes. Tess bolted off the bed and raced into the front room. Through the windows she could see smoke and flickers of fire against the darkness, rising from the location of the motel.
“No!”She screamed the word again and again before she managed to get herself under control. Racing into the bedroom, she began pulling on her clothes. “Come with me, Brock! I’ve got to get down there!”
* * *
Jaeger watched the explosion from a laundromat parking lot, a few blocks from the Redrock Inn. His informant had told him about the woman looking for Brock Tolman—the two of them were friends, at least, he’d said. Maybe even lovers. And he’d managed to find out where she was staying. That was all Jaeger had needed to carry out his plan.
While the rodeo was in progress, he’d picked the lock on the motel room and set up the trap. Rigged to go off when the door was opened, the bomb was similar to the one he’d used on the mailbox at the Tolman Ranch—simple to make and easy to hide, but powerful enough to obliterate a man—or a woman—at close range. After setting the sensitive trigger, all that had remained was to bide his time at a safe distance.
Now, as the smoke fanned out on the wind and the wail of sirens echoed through the night, Jaeger counted his work as done. He never went back to check on a job. That was the way less experienced colleagues got caught. And in this case, whether the woman died or was only disfigured by her burns, the end result would be the same. Brock Tolman would suffer.
Jaeger would report the success to his client, clearing the way to close the contract by killing Tolman in the most efficient way possible. Then he would collect the last installment of his pay and move on.
