Loaded. Joanna Wayne

smiled again, a kind of taunting, half smile that tightened her chest. Not attraction, she told herself. She had that totally under control.

      “Handcuffs sound interesting,” Matt said, “but I was thinking of something a little less dramatic.”

      “Such as?”

      “Until we know why someone tried to kill you today, I don’t think you should stay alone.”

      “Do you have a better idea?”

      “Yeah. I’m staying with you.”

      She couldn’t have heard him right. A man like Matt Collingsworth didn’t put himself out for a prospective employee whom he suspected might be a blatant liar. But then she wouldn’t have expected one of the richest men in Texas to be sitting across from her tonight in a Texas roadhouse, either.

      “What did you say?” she asked.

      “On the off chance that the guy who shot you today was looking to kill you specifically, you shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

      “And you’re planning to serve as my bodyguard?”

      “Why not? I’ve never gone up against a killer before, but I’ve handled some bulls that were looking to leave my kidneys scattered over the rodeo ring.”

      “That isn’t necessary.”

      “Actually, it is. Family tradition, the cowboy code and all that. A real man never walks away from a woman in danger, even one with a loaded Smith & Wesson in her possession.”

      He’d walk away fast enough if he knew she was CIA—here to put him and his family away for life. But he didn’t know, and for now, it would apparently be only her and Matt in a slightly shady motel on the edge of town. Breathing the same stale air stirred by the whirring ceiling fan and overworked air conditioner. Perhaps close enough she’d hear the rustle of sheets when he shifted positions.

      She should be thanking her lucky stars for this entrée into the inner sanctum of the world she’d come to infiltrate. But only one word came to mind and it seemed to be shouting inside her head and echoing through every cell of her body.

       Help!