Unexpected. Lori Foster

the kitchen, reliving that moment of helplessness. “Rather than wait for a ransom demand, I tried contacting the local officials. They gave me a huge runaround. Either they truly knew nothing about it, or they didn’t give a damn.”

      “You have to know who to ask.”

      “And obviously I didn’t.” Eli hadn’t told his grandparents the truth about Jeremy. It would have worried them sick. Instead . . . He turned to Ray. “So I called that damned agency.”

      “And got me.” She winked. “Lucky you.”

      He did feel better, knowing she was familiar with the area and the people. Instinctively, he knew she wouldn’t lie to him. If Jeremy were in serious danger, she’d say so. Quietly, he agreed, “Lucky me.”

      She gave him a sharp glance. Eli didn’t look away. He felt a connection with her that went beyond her reasons for being with him tonight.

      The seconds ticked by while she appeared to be thinking things over. Finally she straightened in her seat and nodded. “First off, stop worrying, okay? Your brother really is fine. I got a firsthand account. A trusted source told me he’s full of complaints, driving everyone crazy, but unharmed.”

      Eli rubbed his hands together. “So how soon can we get him, do you think? I don’t want to wait around until he does get hurt.”

      Ray looked him over with a critical eye. “Is your brother like you?”

      “Like me?”

      “Semitough,” she clarified. “Or is he a typical pampered rich kid?”

      Eli didn’t know if he liked being labeled “semitough” but at least he understood her meaning. “Jeremy’s worked on the ranch most his life. He’s strong. He’s a man.”

      “A nineteen-year-old man. God knows, those are the worst kind.” Her expression softened with some hidden, inner thought that curled the corners of her mouth. “At that age guys are full of testosterone and vinegar, without much room for common sense.”

      “True,” he agreed in the same soft tone, beguiled by that smile. “That’s Jeremy.”

      Ray finished off her soup, then pushed out of her seat. “They’ll have him sleep in a casita with the insects for company. His selection of food will likely be rice and beans or beans and rice, and they can offer only the crudest means of bathing.”

      “Shit.”

      “It’s not a Boy Scout campout, but if he can handle roughing it, it won’t be so bad.” She squeezed his shoulder, surprising him with the gesture of comfort and the strength of her grip. He looked at her hand, slender and pale, and had to fight the urge to lift it to his mouth and kiss her palm. “We’ll have a long day tomorrow. You’d better get some sleep.”

      Since he’d gotten word of his brother’s predicament, he’d barely slept at all. Not only was he worried about Jeremy, but his grandfather and grandmother were too old to suffer through such concerns. “In a bit.”

      She treated him to another show of her bossiness. “Now. Sitting out here stewing isn’t going to help your brother. You’ll need to be in fit shape for a rescue. We have the hard part. All he has to do is wait for us.”

      Eli rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t seem to get it off my mind enough to sleep.”

      Moving behind him, she pushed his hand aside and took over the task of massaging tight muscles. Her fingers were cool against his heated skin, strong but gentle, kneading with a practiced ease. “Concentrate on how you’re going to box his ears for doing this to you when you get him home.”

      The massage wasn’t working.

      With Ray so close behind him, her hands touching him, his muscles were in danger of going into a cramp. “I’ve already done that a thousand times. And I’ve envisioned the rescue at least double that.” Over his shoulder, he gave her a piercing look. “You, however, I couldn’t have imagined in my wildest dreams.”

      Her hands remained in place, but were no longer moving. A hushed quality had invaded the air between them. “I won’t disappoint you.”

      He felt the heat of her on his back. As they stared at each other, her breathing deepened and her fingers contracted.

      “What makes you the best, Ray?” He wanted to better understand her, all of her. “Men are stronger, with more endurance. They can be taught anything you’ve been taught, right? So why you?”

      She answered without hesitation. “Just as you can’t believe it, no one else can either. That’s an advantage that I use. No one sees me as a threat until it’s too late.” She squeezed his shoulders, breaking the moment of intimacy with camaraderie, and turned to leave the room. “I know when to brazen it out, when to make my move. Because I’m smaller and lighter, I can slip in and out of camps without making a sound. I don’t play macho games, and most importantly, I never lose my focus.”

      “Never?”

      She looked back at him and slowly shook her head. “Doesn’t matter how tempting the distraction might be.”

      Was she saying he tempted her? He couldn’t have been more stunned if she’d plopped into his lap and kissed him. “Ray . . .”

      “No. Don’t say it. Whatever it is, just let it go.” Her eyes, deep and mysterious, held his for a long moment. Then she whispered, “Good night, Eli.” And she was gone.

      The whispering woke her.

      Feminine whispering.

      Ray jerked up in her bed, alert to danger but disoriented by the strange room, the soft bed, and the expensive sheets. In less than a second, everything fell into place. Eli. She’d left him sitting at the kitchen table on the assumption he’d soon retire. Instead, he’d invited over company? That didn’t make any sense.

      Straining her ears to hear, Ray could just make out Eli’s voice, quiet but firm and determined. There was silence, then more whispering—and the unmistakable sound of a soft female moan.

      That bastard.

      Ray didn’t hesitate. She slipped out of bed and, not bothering to dress properly, cracked her door open to eavesdrop. She couldn’t see down the hall but she no longer needed to. Eli had a female guest, and he was obviously being romantic.

      Indignation hit her like a slap in the face.

      Hadn’t he been overwhelmed with concern for his baby brother only hours before? Hadn’t she forced herself to offer comfort when she was so lousy at doing so?

      She should have known the truth. Despite seeming different, Eli was wealthy and the rich never concerned themselves long with anything other than their own pleasure.

      She knew she wasn’t being fair, but damn it, she’d lain awake for over an hour trying to get him out of her mind, trying to reconcile just how different he really was from the other men who’d hired her.

      Trying to dredge up that damned focus she’d bragged about.

      Ray was tired and suddenly quite irritable. They had a job to do in the morning and they both needed their rest. If he’d wanted a last-minute romp, he could have at least been quiet so she could sleep through it.

      Having made up her mind, Ray flipped her disheveled bangs off her forehead, pulled her thin olive green men’s undershirt down so it covered her panties, and strolled nonchalantly down the hall. Stealth was her middle name; her bare feet made no sound on the plush carpeting and her compressed lips ensured that even her breath was silent.

      She slipped into the room without either of them noticing, giving her a chance to observe. Immediately, she realized that Eli wasn’t quite the participant she’d imagined. He tried valiantly to disengage himself from the clinging woman. His success was nominal.

      Though the female looked small and delicate—a deliberate affectation, no