The Millionaire Cowboy's Secret (3 page)

She sighed. “That was all included in the paperwork I was given.”

“You have to befriend him.”

“Matt invited me to dinner up at the big house tonight. Maybe he’ll be there.”

“Perfect.” David cleared his throat, which meant Skylar wouldn’t like whatever he was about to say next. “You know what you have to do. Turn up the charm. Landeta won’t be able to resist a pretty lady like you. That’s one of the reasons you got this assignment.”

As if she needed to be reminded. Though she’d had numerous assignments in the past—all successful—she hadn’t ever had one where she was actually
attracted
to the suspect. Maybe her coworkers were right and it was time for her to take a vacation.

After she wrapped up this case, that is. She’d go to Jamaica or Key West, lie around on a beach and sip fruity umbrella drinks.

“Are you there?”

Belatedly realizing her supervisor was waiting for a response, she sighed. “Yes, of course. I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Excellent. Report back to me if you learn anything. I’ll expect regular status updates.”

Pushing the button to end the call, Skylar wondered why she didn’t want to seduce Matt Landeta. After all, she’d played the seductress role before, all in the line of duty. Yet this time, she sensed her own psyche would be in peril. Not good. The man was too damn sexy for her own peace of mind.

But she didn’t have a choice. Ever since a drug-crazed junky had robbed the bank and shot her husband and son, she’d dedicated herself to her job. If Matt Landeta was enough of a bastard that he supplied the Mexican drug cartels with ammunition, he deserved what he got.

She straightened her spine, once again in the right frame of mind. All she had to do was think of Robbie and Bryan, standing in line at the bank where she should have been instead, and she could do anything.

Including seduce Matt Landeta.

* * *

Glancing out the window, Matt considered Skylar McLain. Something about her bugged him. It wasn’t her beauty—hell, he had his pick of gorgeous women. Or the tough-girl exterior she tried to hide, instead wearing it like a shield.

Maybe it was the simple fact that she didn’t react to him the way other women did. Especially when they wanted something from him, like this one did.

Not his problem. He had more important things to worry about. Like making sure this complicated plan didn’t fall apart.

“So what’s up?” he asked his friend.

“I got a phone call—” José sounded troubled “—from my contact down in Matamoros. La Familia just slaughtered twenty people and strung them up along the road leading back into Texas. It’s a warning.”

Matt swore. “Were any of them our guys?” By this he meant the ones wanting to buy his ammo.

“I don’t know yet.” José’s frown deepened. “But I’m betting this will put a damper on them being so eager to try to form their own cartel.”

Which meant they wouldn’t need so much ammunition. Matt had been buying it for the past two years, both from online and various gun shops around the state.

Cursing, Matt dragged his hand through his hair. “Do you think they got word of what Diego and his men are trying to do?”

“I don’t think so. If they did, Diego would be dead.”

“And you’re sure he’s not?”

José snorted. “Amigo, I ain’t sure of nothin’. The only thing I’m sure of is that, no matter what happens, somebody’s gonna need ammunition.”

With a sigh, Matt tapped the newspaper on the table in front of them. “True, and if we were really in the business of selling it, we’d make a small fortune.”

“Hey, come on, man.” José looked over at him hopefully. “Even if Diego can’t buy it, we can still sell it, right?”

Since this question came up just about every day, Matt didn’t respond. José already knew the answer. All of this, the stockpiling round after round of ammunition, putting out feelers in the dangerous world of the Mexican cartels, had been done for one reason only.

To lure Diego Rodriguez. Nothing more, nothing less.

Glaring at him, José finally shook his head. “Fine. Though it seems like a lot of trouble for nothing if it doesn’t work out. We ought to be able to make some money someway.”

“Right.” Matt glared right back. “We’ve already got the ATF sniffing around here. First time you try anything like that you’ll end up right back in prison. You know that.”

Expression sullen, José looked down. He knew Matt was right. “So what did you think of the ATF lady pretending to be a magazine photographer?”

“She’s okay.” Matt didn’t feel like elaborating. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss Skylar’s obvious charms.

Instead, José grumbled to his hands, “I still don’t get why the ATF had to send her anyway.”

Matt wasn’t sure, either. Before embarking on this monstrous undertaking, he’d researched the law. Texas had no laws about how much ammo a private citizen could stockpile. He’d been careful, too, ordering from various online sites, trying to order as much as he could without gathering too much attention. He had close to a quarter of a million rounds now. With more on order.

As long as he stopped there, he’d be good. Selling it to the Mexicans, however... That would put him in the realm of federal law breaking, not to mention what the Mexican government would do to him if they found out about it.

Lucky for him he had no plans to sell even a single round. He only wanted the cartel—or specifically, several specific members of the cartel—to believe he did.

Since José knew Matt wouldn’t even discuss doing anything else with the ammo, he sniffed again and continued talking about Skylar. “I wonder who in the ATF came up with the horse-magazine reporter as a cover idea.”

Matt grinned. “I have to say, it’s brilliant.” He was known for his love of his Arabian horses, and he had a full-time team who worked on showing them around the country. He had a second full-time team who stayed here at the ranch. They took care of breeding and training and all the other things that came with having a successful horse ranch.

Leaving Matt to focus on his overarching goal: vengeance. He let his grin slide off his face, replacing it with a frown.

“When this is all over, you know it won’t bring them back,” José said for what had to be the hundredth time.

“Are you taking up psychoanalysis?” Matt asked as he always did. “If so, stop.”

José shook his head. “Fine. But what about the Fed? Are you letting her in the house for meals?”

“Sure, why not?” Matt shrugged. “I don’t really have a problem with her. Plus, she’ll be easier to keep an eye on if I keep her close.”

José’s knowing smile made Matt grimace. “And it doesn’t hurt that she’s easy on the eyes, does it?”

Refusing to dignify that remark with a reply, Matt snatched up his hat and stalked off to check on his barn. He’d hired several new barn helpers and wanted to make sure they stuck to the established schedule. Nothing upset a horse worse than a deviation from its normal routine.

It dawned on him that he’d become a lot like that, too.

Shaking his head, he realized it might be time to mix things up. Since he was planning for a big showdown to occur soon, he’d damn well better be ready.

* * *

After photographing the barn horses and the surrounding area for future reference, Skylar strolled outside toward the pasture. Twenty or thirty head of horses grazed lush grass under the cloudless sky. She took several more photographs, knowing when this investigation was over she’d be able to use some of these for her growing portfolio. Photography as a hobby brought her more enjoyment with each passing day. It was the only other thing besides her job that she could lose herself in for hours at a time.

She thought of Matt with his craggy features and easy-limbed grace. If possible, she’d like to sneak in a few shots of him, but only when he wasn’t aware. She’d bet he’d make an interesting subject.

She snapped the pasture in all four directions, knowing she could enlarge the digital images later and study them for any anomalies.

“Are you still out here?”

Speak of the devil. Matt had come up behind her unnoticed. Either he was able to move with a lot of stealth, or she’d been way too involved with her camera.

Glad she hadn’t jumped, she turned slowly. “I can’t get enough of your beautiful horses,” she said, meaning it.

He wore a black cowboy hat, putting much of his face in shadow. She felt heat begin a slow burn somewhere in her stomach.

The odd look he gave her told her he didn’t believe her, as though he’d seen her taking additional shots of the pasture, barn and outbuildings. Ignoring the uneasy feeling tickling her spine, she leaned on the fence and busied herself snapping a few more photos. This time she made sure they were only of the horses.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go get your dog,” he said. “A dog like that would love running through the pasture, especially if you brought her a Frisbee.”

Surprised, she glanced at him. “She does love her Frisbee.”

He graced her with another one of his devastating smiles that sent her pulse into overdrive. “You did bring it, didn’t you?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “No. I planned on taking her for a walk after dinner. On a leash, so I can get a feeling for how she’s going to react.”

“I thought you said she was used to horses.”

“She is. Or rather, was.” Fidgeting with her camera, she squinted up at him in the early-afternoon sun. “It’s been a while since I owned them. I probably need to take it slowly with her.”

As she stared at him, his smile slowly faded. He made her uneasy. And not for the usual reasons. It wasn’t because he struck her as particularly dangerous—she’d been around a lot worse characters than this millionaire cowboy who apparently amused himself by dabbling in illegal ammunition sales.

No, it was more of a physical-appeal thing—she felt his presence like a punch in the gut, making it difficult for her to catch her breath. She didn’t like this and needed to find a way to cope with it.

Oddly enough, she sensed Matt felt equally uncomfortable around her. Despite his brash self-confidence, she sensed this was as much an act as her pretend photojournalist job.

The next instant she nearly snorted out loud. She needed to stop overanalyzing him and do her job.

Making a show of glancing at her watch, she managed a fake smile of her own. “I’d better get going. I need to unpack, let Talia out and freshen up before dinner.”

He nodded. “See you then.”

Batting her eyelashes and hoping she wasn’t overdoing it, she looked at the house, shadowed by the towering oak trees. “Will there be a lot of people at dinner?” She kept her tone deceptively casual.

“No.” He tugged his hat lower, hiding his eyes. “Just me and my friend José, and of course a few of my staff.”

His staff. She nearly shook her head. Unlike the rest of the world, the man was filthy rich, with
filthy
being the operative word. No one knew where he’d gotten his millions, but she had no doubt they hadn’t been by ethical means.

“See you later.” Turning away, he headed off. Unable to help herself, she once again watched him go. The inexplicable yearning she felt filled her with disgust as she headed back toward her little trailer.

Focus. On. The. Job.

So she would meet Matt’s right-hand man. Good. She planned to watch José Nivas like a hawk. In fact, after meeting Matt and noting his laid-back manner, she wouldn’t be surprised to learn José was behind the entire ammunition-smuggling operation. Once a criminal, always a criminal. Just like that thug who had robbed the bank and killed her husband, Robbie, and young son, Bryan.

Pushing the painful thought away, she grimaced. At least the shrink had been right about one thing. She’d taught herself coping mechanisms. These days, she considered herself fully functional—at least as a federal agent. As a woman, not so much. After all, how many women went around with a gaping hole where their heart used to be?

As she neared the trailer, Talia’s enthusiastic barking told her the dog had heard her arrival. Opening the camper door, she let the border collie jump and whirl around her in greeting. Locating the leash, she took her pet outside.

Once that was done, they went back inside and Skylar unpacked. She fed Talia and made sure she had a bowl of fresh water.

“Matt invited me up to the house to eat, Tali,” she said. Used to the one-sided conversations, Talia cocked her head and wagged her plumed tail.

“What do you think about that?” Skylar continued. Since the accident, she used her pet as a sounding board for everything and took comfort in hashing out her problems out loud. Another coping mechanism, she supposed. But it worked, so it was all good as far as she was concerned.

“I find the invitation suspect.” She ruffled the dog’s black-and-white fur. “But then, the fact that he’s letting a reporter from an obscure horse magazine stay in his guest trailer for ten days is kind of weird, too. Come on, how long does it take to come up with an article?”

Talia woofed once, as if in agreement.

“I wonder if he suspects who I am. Especially since I had that embarrassing overreaction to the backfire. I thought it was a gunshot.”

Talia whined, turning around three times before lying down. Skylar grimaced. Hell, even her dog knew this wasn’t a normal reaction. “I guess I’m still not healthy,” Skylar said, sighing. “As long as the ATF doesn’t know that, we’re okay.”

Talia shook her head, almost as though disagreeing with her.

“You know what?” Skylar asked, grinning at her own foolishness. “You’re right. When you’re around a man suspected of smuggling ammo to the Mexican drug cartels, you sort of expect to hear gunshots....”

Turning to hang up her clothes, she sighed. She hadn’t brought much to wear. In fact, she had two dresses, three pairs of jeans and maybe seven shirts, most of them T-shirts. How to dress for dinner was an interesting conundrum. Did she go for sexy siren or casual, artsy photographer girl?

She thought of Matt Landeta with his enigmatic smile and amazing blue eyes, and reached for the expensive sheath. Something in-between, she thought.