trackers and chase the rogues all the way to hell.
A scream pierced the night air and he spun toward it, along with Cody and the humans. When a figure came crashing through the brush, the ranchers surged forward, rifles raised.
“Help!” A desperate voice cried out. “Help!”
The ranchers stepped back when a woman stumbled onto the road, and every muscle in his body cramped. It was Lana, crying and flailing and naked as the day she was born. Beautiful, every inch of her, even in hysteria. She threw herself at Dale, the Seymour ranch foreman, capturing him in a terrified embrace. “I was, I was—” she stuttered, pawing the man. Dale stood in shock, trying to prop her up without touching too much naked flesh.
Ty’s blood massed in great clumps, then surged forward in dam-bursting floods. Like hell he would let any other man see her—touch her! He strode over in three steps, unbuttoned his flannel shirt, and draped it around Lana like a cape. She continued to babble as he pulled her away, something about a man and a prank and a truck and—
She winked. In the middle of it all, Lana winked at him. He nearly pulled up in surprise, though she kept babbling away and clutching his T-shirt, acting all the world like a woman frightened half out of her mind.
Acting? What the hell was she up to?
He caught Cody’s eyes, which were twinkling with some inside joke Ty just couldn’t catch. What was so funny here?
Whatever her game was, it was working. The ranchers’ eyes were glued to this damsel in distress, torn between wanting to comfort her and getting a better view of her gloriously fit ass. He maneuvered her to the far side of his truck, glad only for the fact that no one made a move toward the rise. The sheep were forgotten, at least for the moment.
That’s when his mind finally made sense of Lana’s wink. She’d created a diversion, just in time.
“I don’t know if I should kill you or kiss you,” he muttered, then snapped his mouth shut.
Lana grinned from ear to ear. “Kiss,” she whispered, letting her lips brush his ear.
One little word had never sounded so dangerous or delicious. The hiss of it stayed in his ear and shot straight into his bloodstream.
Kiss , the wolf in him purred.
Kill , the man thought in half-hearted resistance.
He didn’t dare open his mouth for fear of which word might come out. A good thing Cody was on the ball, convincing the ranchers that he and Ty would deal with the situation.
“Enough for one night,” he suggested, his voice working its usual magic. Even through the glare of his anger, Ty couldn’t help wishing he had his brother’s gift with words. “We’ll take care of this,” Cody cooed to the Seymour ranch hands. “We’ll find the coyote responsible. We’ll take care of him.”
It was a miracle he could hear anything through the roaring in his ears. Damn it! She was so close. He tried prying Lana away, keeping her at arm’s length to somehow hold on to his sanity. But his mind and his muscles found themselves at odds, and the heat of her stayed right against his ribs.
The ranchers muttered half-heartedly but they fired up their pick-up and drove away. Ty caught Cody’s chuckle when Lana abruptly stopped raving, straightened, and gave them a pert nod. She was—laughing?
He could have throttled them both. “Get in the truck,” he growled.
Lana crossed her arms and dug her bare heels into the ground.
He worked his jaw so hard it emitted a sharp crack. “Get in the truck, please .”
Lana let a stubborn moment tick by, then climbed into the truck, slamming the door for good measure.
“I’ll take care of this,” Cody said, waving toward the sheep. “You go take care of…that.” He motioned toward the truck and turned away with a badly disguised smile.
Rogue coyotes, human neighbors who’d come within a hair of discovering a terrible secret, and a hard-headed woman who had the gall to assume he needed help. A Dixon, no less. And those
A scream pierced the night air and he spun toward it, along with Cody and the humans. When a figure came crashing through the brush, the ranchers surged forward, rifles raised.
“Help!” A desperate voice cried out. “Help!”
The ranchers stepped back when a woman stumbled onto the road, and every muscle in his body cramped. It was Lana, crying and flailing and naked as the day she was born. Beautiful, every inch of her, even in hysteria. She threw herself at Dale, the Seymour ranch foreman, capturing him in a terrified embrace. “I was, I was—” she stuttered, pawing the man. Dale stood in shock, trying to prop her up without touching too much naked flesh.
Ty’s blood massed in great clumps, then surged forward in dam-bursting floods. Like hell he would let any other man see her—touch her! He strode over in three steps, unbuttoned his flannel shirt, and draped it around Lana like a cape. She continued to babble as he pulled her away, something about a man and a prank and a truck and—
She winked. In the middle of it all, Lana winked at him. He nearly pulled up in surprise, though she kept babbling away and clutching his T-shirt, acting all the world like a woman frightened half out of her mind.
Acting? What the hell was she up to?
He caught Cody’s eyes, which were twinkling with some inside joke Ty just couldn’t catch. What was so funny here?
Whatever her game was, it was working. The ranchers’ eyes were glued to this damsel in distress, torn between wanting to comfort her and getting a better view of her gloriously fit ass. He maneuvered her to the far side of his truck, glad only for the fact that no one made a move toward the rise. The sheep were forgotten, at least for the moment.
That’s when his mind finally made sense of Lana’s wink. She’d created a diversion, just in time.
“I don’t know if I should kill you or kiss you,” he muttered, then snapped his mouth shut.
Lana grinned from ear to ear. “Kiss,” she whispered, letting her lips brush his ear.
One little word had never sounded so dangerous or delicious. The hiss of it stayed in his ear and shot straight into his bloodstream.
Kiss , the wolf in him purred.
Kill , the man thought in half-hearted resistance.
He didn’t dare open his mouth for fear of which word might come out. A good thing Cody was on the ball, convincing the ranchers that he and Ty would deal with the situation.
“Enough for one night,” he suggested, his voice working its usual magic. Even through the glare of his anger, Ty couldn’t help wishing he had his brother’s gift with words. “We’ll take care of this,” Cody cooed to the Seymour ranch hands. “We’ll find the coyote responsible. We’ll take care of him.”
It was a miracle he could hear anything through the roaring in his ears. Damn it! She was so close. He tried prying Lana away, keeping her at arm’s length to somehow hold on to his sanity. But his mind and his muscles found themselves at odds, and the heat of her stayed right against his ribs.
The ranchers muttered half-heartedly but they fired up their pick-up and drove away. Ty caught Cody’s chuckle when Lana abruptly stopped raving, straightened, and gave them a pert nod. She was—laughing?
He could have throttled them both. “Get in the truck,” he growled.
Lana crossed her arms and dug her bare heels into the ground.
He worked his jaw so hard it emitted a sharp crack. “Get in the truck, please .”
Lana let a stubborn moment tick by, then climbed into the truck, slamming the door for good measure.
“I’ll take care of this,” Cody said, waving toward the sheep. “You go take care of…that.” He motioned toward the truck and turned away with a badly disguised smile.
Rogue coyotes, human neighbors who’d come within a hair of discovering a terrible secret, and a hard-headed woman who had the gall to assume he needed help. A Dixon, no less. And those
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