The Texan's Contested Claim

By the time he finished his tirade, he was standing nose to nose with Ali, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her mouth.

“I—I had no idea,” she stammered.

“Most people don’t. They envy my success, even try to emulate it, but they don’t know what success has cost me, what it would cost them if it was theirs.” Hiding a smile, he turned away. “But you’ll get a taste of it soon enough.”

She tensed. “What do you mean?”

“Our good friend Officer Wilhelm gave us his word he wouldn’t tell anyone about seeing me, but I’ll bet you money he tells someone. Or the dispatcher will. And if one of them does tell, you can expect the media to start arriving by morning.”

Her eyes rounded. “Here?”

“Here and anywhere we dare venture. Media hounds are like fleas on a dog. Irritating as hell and all but impossible to get rid of.”

* * *

Ali paced the living room, stealing an occasional peek through the blinds she’d closed. So far, so good, she thought. Not a person or a car in sight.

Confident that Officer Wilhelm had been true to his word—or Garrett had exaggerated his own importance, which is what she felt was more the case—she abandoned her watch and went to the kitchen for something to drink.

“I’m getting a glass of wine,” she called to him in the den. “Do you want one?”

“Yes, please.”

She filled two glasses and carried them to the den. She glanced over her shoulder at the television as she handed Garrett his drink. “What are you watching?”

“Jeopardy.”

Figures, she thought, biting back a smile, as she sank down on the sofa beside him. “Who’s winning?” she asked.

“Guy on the left. They’re about to start Double Jeopardy, though, so that could change things.”

A commercial came on and he lifted the remote to surf through channels.

“Do you have something against commercials?” she asked in frustration.

“Other than being an utter waste of my time?” He shook his head. “Not particularly.”

“You advertise,” she reminded him.

“Some.”

“Hypocrite.”

“Why? Because I refuse to watch a boring commercial?”

She opened a hand. “If the shoe fits…”

“It’s marketing’s responsibility to capture the attention of the consumer. If they fail—” he clicked the remote “—which my company’s commercials seldom do,” he informed her, “I change channels until I find something that does catch my attention. Like that,” he said and set the remote aside.

“The stock market report?” She fanned her face. “Stop. Please. I’m not sure my heart can take the excitement.”

He shot her a scowl. “Why don’t you go spy on the reporters lurking outside some more?”

She tucked her feet beneath her and took a sip of her wine. “There’s nobody out there.”

“There will be by morning.”

“You’re full of bologna. No reporters are coming here.”

“Wanna bet?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she said.

“Five hundred says they’ll be here by morning.”

She considered, then shook her head. “Too rich for my blood.”

“Okay, if you don’t want to gamble cash, put up some of your photography of equal value.”

She hesitated a moment, then stood and stuck out her hand. “All right, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he used it to haul himself to his feet. “I prefer photos of landscape, rather than people.”

She lifted a brow. “Kind of confident you’re going to win, aren’t you?”

He shot her a wink and turned away. “When it’s a sure thing, I can afford to be.”

She frowned at his back. “Where are you going?”

“To bed.”

“Hey, wait a minute!” she cried, hurrying after him. “That’s the way to my room.”

“I know. Remember? I chose your bed to sleep in tonight.”

“You’re not sleeping in my bed!”

He opened the door to her private quarters. “Yes, I am.”

She ran after him, praying she hadn’t left underwear or any other equally embarrassing items lying around. “Garrett, really,” she pleaded. “You can sleep in any bed you want. Just not mine.”

He sank down on the side of her bed and bounced a couple of times, as if testing the mattress. “I prefer this one,” he said, and stood, pulling his sweater over his head.

Ali stared, unable to tear her gaze away from the oh-so-sexy chest he’d exposed. Who’d’ve thought? she thought, as heat crawled up her neck, threatening her air. She’d been pressed against his chest the night before when they’d kissed, but they had both had on jackets, which had done a heck of a job of concealing what proved to be a wonderfully muscled and toned body.

“You win,” she managed to say, and darted for the adjoining bath. “Just let me get my stuff.”

She grabbed her pajamas and toothbrush and hustled back out, careful to keep her gaze fixed straight ahead, fearing he’d stripped completely while she was out of the room. In the doorway, she groped blindly behind her for the knob, to pull the door closed behind her.

“Ali?”

She stopped, but didn’t dare turn around. “What?”

“Since you enjoyed kissing me so much, I thought you’d want to sleep with me, too.”

Setting her jaw, she slapped a hand against the wall switch, turning off the light, and yanked the door closed behind her.

She wasn’t sure, but she’d swear she heard him laughing as she stalked to the den.

Score one for the home team, Garrett thought, chuckling, as he climbed into bed. Judging by Ali’s fast exit following his comment about her sleeping with him, it appeared he’d succeeded in getting even with her for the hard time she’d given him over his run-in with the law and Officer Wilhelm.

He punched up his pillow and lay back, wondering where she would sleep. There were plenty of empty beds to choose from, including the one he’d slept in prior to claiming hers. He’d blamed his inability to sleep on the sagging mattress, which was what had started the whole where-will-Garrett-sleep debate. But Garrett’s sleeplessness wasn’t due to a sagging bed.

It was due to the Vista’s innkeeper.

His smile faded. He hadn’t intended for it to happen, had done everything within his power to prevent it, but it was true.

Ali Moran had gotten under his skin.

It had started with the stories she’d told him of her past and his growing suspicion that she was more victim than enemy, and had quickly escalated to a physical attraction that grew stronger each day he spent with her.

He dragged his pillow over his face to smother a groan. What the hell was he going to do now? he asked himself in frustration. He’d arrived in Austin prepared to despise her, ruin her if necessary, and now all he could think about was sleeping with her? She was his stepmother’s daughter, for God’s sake!

He could handle this, he told himself. It was simply a matter of refocusing his goals, keeping a respectable distance from her.

He drew in a deep breath, telling himself he could do this. He’d maintained his objectivity in tougher situations.

He was immediately proved wrong. That one breath had filled his senses with her scent, evoking images of her. Lying in this very bed. The two of them together. Her nude body wrapped around his like a vine.

Groaning, he rolled to his stomach and buried his face in the pillow.

“Focus,” he told himself sternly. “Just focus on the damn goal.”

He’d call his lawyer tomorrow, he promised himself. Find out if Tom had discovered who owned the Vista yet. Knowledge was power and power was what he needed to keep the scales weighted on his side…and hopefully his mind focused on his goal and not on the Vista’s innkeeper.

Ali tiptoed into her bedroom and cautiously approached the bed. She really didn’t want to wake Garrett—or be in the same room with him after the crack he’d made about her sleeping with him—but she preferred both to calling the police.

At the side of the bed, she leaned to touch his shoulder. The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back on the mattress and Garrett was straddling her, his fist reared back, like he was going to slug her.

“Garrett! It’s me! Ali!”

He blinked, then rolled off her, swearing. “Dammit, Ali! Don’t ever slip up on me like that again.”

Eyeing him warily, she dragged herself up to a sitting position. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

He twisted around to switch on the bedside lamp, then slumped back against the headboard, scowling. “Sorry,” he muttered, then glanced over at her. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“N-no. Scared me plenty, though.” Realizing the skill and strength required to accomplish a move like the one he’d just performed, she asked, “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Self-defense class.” His scowl deepened. “When your life has been threatened as many times as mine, you take what precautions you can.”

“Threatened?” she repeated.

“Yes, threatened.” He slanted her a look. “Why were you sneaking around in my room, anyway?”

“I’d remind you it’s my room, but we’ve got more pressing matters to worry about.”

“Like what?”

“Like the men outside.”

He shot up from the bed and ran to peer out the window.

The sight of him standing there in nothing but black silk boxer shorts was almost enough to make her forget about the men she’d seen skulking around outside.

Almost.

“You can’t see them from there,” she told him. “They’re out front. On the street side of the rock wall.”

He dove across the bed for the lamp and switched it off, plunging the room into darkness.

“What are you doing?” she cried.

He clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shh,” he whispered. “We don’t want them to know we’re awake.”

She shoved his hand away. “Why not?”

“If they think we’re asleep and unaware of their presence, hopefully they’ll stay where they are and wait for daylight before approaching the house.”

“But I thought you didn’t want them here?” she said in confusion.

“I don’t.” He dropped his elbows to his knees and his head to his hands. “We’ve got to think of a way to get out of here without them seeing us.”

“We? As in you and me?” She shook her head. “Uh-uh. Sorry, buddy. But I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You have no choice.”

“Oh, I have lots of choices,” she informed him. “The most obvious is staying right here in my own house.”

“You can’t. It’s no longer safe.”

The somberness of his tone turned her blood to ice. “What do you mean, it’s not safe? We’re talking men toting cameras here, not Uzis.”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said hesitantly. “I wasn’t completely honest with you about why I wanted my presence here kept a secret.”

She dropped her head back with a moan. “I really hate middle of the night confessions.”

“My life’s been threatened.”

She snapped her head back up to stare. “Somebody wants you dead?”

“It appears that way.”

“But…why?”

“If I knew that, I’d probably know who wanted to kill me.”

“And you think whoever that person is, is outside my house right now?”

“No. I’m fairly confident it’s only photographers out there. But once they make my presence here known,” he added, “I can almost promise you the person who threatened me will come here looking for me.”

She stared, trying to make sense of what he was telling her, then held up a hand. “Wait a minute. Just because somebody wants you dead, doesn’t mean I’m in danger.”

“I’m afraid it does. If he comes here and finds me gone, he may take you.”

“Me?” She choked a laugh. “Like anyone would want me,” she said wryly.

“He would, if he thinks you’re important to me.”

Her heart faltered, then kicked hard against her chest. “You mean he might use me as a hostage?”

“It’s possible and it’s a chance I’m not willing to take.”

Vivid images of every movie or news clip she’d seen involving hostages filled her mind. And not a one of them were pretty. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re getting out of here.” He rolled off the bed and snatched up his jeans, tugged them on. “I’m going upstairs to pack my stuff and make some phone calls. You’ll need to pack a bag, too. Enough to hold you for a couple of weeks.”

“A couple of weeks!” she cried. “I can’t be gone a couple of weeks!”

“Hopefully you won’t be,” he told her. “And no lights,” he warned, as he headed for the door. “We don’t want them to suspect we’re up to anything.”

Garrett took the rear stairs two at a time and broke into a run when he reached the second floor. Getting out of Austin was imperative, but where to go was a problem. He couldn’t call for his private jet. It would take too much time for his pilot to fly to Texas. Public transportation was out, as it made him too visible. That meant finding some place close to hide out for a while, somewhere no one would think to look for him.

He knew of only one place that fit his needs: his stepmother’s son’s ranch.

Muttering a curse, he paced his room. He didn’t want to call Jase. Calling him meant explaining where he was, what he was up to, and his stepmother had made them promise they wouldn’t search for Ali, that they would respect her request for privacy and leave her alone.

But he hadn’t promised, he reminded himself. Jase and Eddie, Jase’s father, had promised.

Admonishing himself of any guilt for his actions, he pulled his cell phone from his briefcase and scrolled through the address book until he found Jase’s home number.

Mandy, Jase’s wife, answered on the second ring.

“Hello?” she said sleepily.

“Mandy, it’s Garrett.”

“Well, hey, Garrett,” she said, sounding surprised to hear from him. “What are you doing calling me in the middle of the night?”

“I’m in a jam. Is Jase there?”

“He’s in Washington visiting his mother. Haven’t you seen him?”

“No, and I really need his help.”

“Call him at Barbara’s. I’m sure he’ll do whatever he can to help you out.”

“I can’t call him at Barbara’s,” he said in frustration. “You’ll have to help.”

“You know I’ll do whatever I can, but wouldn’t it make better sense to just call Jase, since he’s in Washington and I’m in Texas?”

“That’s just it. I’m in Texas, too.”

“What!” she cried. “Where?”

“Ali Moran’s house.”

A pregnant pause followed his announcement.

“You’re at Ali’s?” she said.

“Yes. I’ll explain later, but we need a place to hide out for a couple of days. I was hoping we could stay in one of the hunting cabins.”

“Of course you can,” she told him, then asked hesitantly, “Does Ali know you’re Barbara’s stepson?”

“No, and you’ve got to promise me you’ll keep it that way.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” she asked doubtfully. “Barbara made y’all promise you’d leave Ali alone.”

He felt a stab of guilt and quickly shrugged it off. “Jase and Eddie promised. I promised nothing.”

“That’s splitting hairs, don’t you think?”

He drew in a breath. “We can discuss this later, okay? Right now I’ve got to get us out of Austin.”

“Okay. But when Barbara finds out about this, I’m pointing all ten fingers at you, buddy. Understand? I’m not chancing getting on my mother-in-law’s bad side just to save your butt, even if it is a cute one.”

The next call Garrett made was to the head of his company’s security department.

“Joe, it’s Garrett. We’ve got a problem.”

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