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  Damn her.

  Her steady gaze followed him as he crossed the room and slouched into a chair opposite her.

  "So," he said, folding his arms in deliberate imitation of her posture.

  "So," she echoed. "How have you been?"

  Her husky, morning-after voice strummed across his wire-taut nerves. "What's it to you?"

  Her eyebrows lifted a notch, but not one iota of sympathy or regret showed in her expression. "Your anger is understandable, but misdirected. Kevin destroyed the business. I was only doing my job."

  "Which includes sleeping with the suspects?"

  She didn't even have the grace to blush, just held his gaze in that way of hers, utterly focused, so a man felt as if he was the only other human on earth. Or a bug under a microscope. "I made a mistake. I'm sorry if it made the situation more difficult for you."

  Difficult? He choked out a laugh. Try unbearable. Bad enough to have to stand by, a total dupe, while his brother was hauled off in handcuffs and a padlock slapped on the front gate of the auction barn that had been in the Jernigan family for generations. But knowing Shannon had walked away and let him be taken completely by surprise—that was devastating.

  "Do you make a lot of mistakes?" he drawled.

  "No."

  He believed her. Underneath that schoolgirl charm, Shannon was pure steel. If she got too close to anyone in the course of an investigation it would be purely intentional.

  He cocked his head and loaded up on the sarcasm. "If I hadn't caught you searching Kevin's office, would you have told me the truth? Or were you planning on pulling your disappearing act without saying a word?"

  "What could I have said that would make it better?"

  Anything! he wanted to shout. A note, a phone call, even a damned text message. Any shred of evidence that a night that had turned him inside-out had meant something to her.

  He shrugged. "Nothing."

  "Then I saved both of us from a potentially painful confrontation." She laced her fingers together and studied them, her face suddenly the picture of honest regret. "I am truly sorry. I didn't intend to hurt you."

  "You didn't," he said, too quickly, too forcefully. "You lied, you manipulated, and you made a damned fool of me, but I'm fine, thank you."

  Her jaw tightened. "Deception is a necessary part of undercover work."

  "And you, darlin'," he drawled, "are very good undercover."

  She pushed abruptly to her feet. "This is a waste of time. I only came here to find out whether you intend to tell anyone."

  He lifted a brow. "That depends."

  "On what?"

  "Who's the sucker this time?"

  "I'm not authorized to share that information." Her words were as stiff as her spine.

  He flashed a lazy smile. "Then I'm not sure I can leave you running loose with my friends."

  She stared at him for a long, tense moment. Then she turned on her heel and headed for the door. He vaulted out of the chair and caught her arm, spinning her to face him. "Oh, no. You're not walking out on me again, lady."

  She shoved against his chest, but he grabbed her shoulders and held her in place. Away from the light of the lamp, her eyes were full of shadows, but her voice was rock steady. "Take your hands off me, or I'll have to make you."

  He didn't doubt she could, but raw emotion got the better of his common sense. "You forgot to kiss me goodbye."

  He jerked her onto her toes and seized her mouth with his, a kiss intended to punish. She remained rigid—not resisting, not yielding, simply enduring. Then, through his anger, he became aware of her crisp, green apple fragrance, a scent that had haunted him for weeks. He remembered the taste of it on her skin. His lips softened, his tongue searching for that elusive flavor.

  She relaxed, not participating in the kiss, but accepting his touch. Her hand came up to stroke his hair and down his back. A caress meant to comfort, not arouse, as if she were soothing an angry child.

  As if she felt sorry for him.

  He pushed free so forcefully she stumbled backward. She raised the back of her hand to her lips, but she didn't wipe away his kiss, and maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he thought her breath hitched as she turned away.

  She paused, her fingers curled around the door knob. "Are you going to tell them?"

  "Not yet."

  She nodded, apparently realizing it was the best she could hope for, and left without looking back.

  He stared at the blank face of the door for a long moment, then sank onto the bed and buried his head in his hands. What the hell was wrong with him, grabbing a woman, practically assaulting her? He was lucky she hadn't bashed his balls clear up into his throat.

  He'd accused her of lying. He gave a short, bitter laugh. At least she'd done it in the line of duty. But him...

  He'd told her she hadn't hurt him. He'd told himself he was over her. He'd lied to both of them.

  CHAPTER THREE

  So many stars.

  Shannon hunched in a patio chair on the minuscule balcony of her hotel room, head tilted back, staring up at the glittering night sky. She wrapped her arms tightly around her ribs, but it didn't help. The pressure kept building and building. For months she'd held her memories and emotions contained, sealed off inside a thin membrane like a piece of retained shrapnel.

  Now, today, long past the time she thought there ever could be any, she had more. New sights and sounds, touches and tastes, and they wouldn't fit into the space she'd reserved for all things Tyler. When she tried to cram them in, the membrane stretched to the point of tearing, and she wasn't sure she could survive if it all burst free again.

  She shivered despite the sticky night air, the chill coming from deep in her soul at the memory of Tyler's normally warm green eyes glittering with cold fury. He hated her. She couldn't blame him. How could he ever look at her and not loathe her part in the destruction of his life? His family?

  Her hand crept across her flat stomach. Through her shirt, her fingers traced the puckered scar along her left side, from the bottom rib nearly to the hipbone. It throbbed as if every nerve ending there had a direct connection to her emotions. Tyler didn't—could not—know the price she had paid. A price that couldn't begin to repair the damage she had inflicted.

  Well, he wouldn't have to look at her again. She'd only just persuaded the powers-that-be that she was fit for a field operation, and they'd been watching her closely for any sign she couldn't handle herself. They wouldn't leave her in place now. Best case scenario, they'd pull her from the operation and find some way to deal with Tyler. Worst case, they'd declare the entire operation compromised and pack it in.

  Her cell phone buzzed. She picked it up from the arm of her chair, knowing without a glance who would be on the other end of the line.

  "Well?" the voice demanded.

  "He says he'll blow my cover if I don't tell him why I'm here."

  Her caller's reaction was summarized in one terse, highly impolite word. She let the silence hum on the line while he debated their options. Hundreds of man hours wasted, weighed against the likelihood that Tyler would say the wrong thing to the wrong person and not only destroy this operation, but send the targets scurrying for their hidey-holes.

  Or worse, slithering away to some other state to pick up where they left off.

  "Do it."

  She jerked upright, her assumptions blasted to smithereens. They were trusting her—depending on her—to woo him over to their side, considering how it had turned out last time? She had to call upon every ounce of experience and training to keep the uncertainty from her voice. "How much can I say?"

  "As much as it takes."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tyler inhaled deeply, but it was no use. There was a weather system rolling in, cranking up the humidity, and the muggy morning air wouldn't clear the fog from his head. He needed caffeine. Why hadn't he stopped at a drive-through window on his way to the rodeo grounds?

  He glanced at his watch and grimaced
. Because he had slept in and was running late, that's why. The clock radio had been blaring for twenty minutes before the voice of the obnoxiously cheerful deejays had roused him. He'd had just enough time to scramble through the shower, throw on clean clothes and race to the rodeo grounds for the eight a.m. timed event slack. Damn good thing he'd done his ironing the night before, literally blowing off some steam after Shannon left his room.

  He shoved his sunglasses more securely onto his nose and hustled toward the announcer's stand. The arena was filled with cowboys and cowgirls loosening up their horses for the morning competition. These were the overflow contestants who couldn't be squeezed into the fast-paced performances. Despite the informal atmosphere, the times here would be in direct contention with those posted when the grandstands held more than a scattering of family and friends. Tyler normally enjoyed the slack. Not today. The only thing he would have enjoyed on this particular morning was another five hours of shut-eye.

  Or a double shot of espresso.

  He dragged his lead butt up the stairs to the announcer's stand—a wooden hut perched above the bucking chutes—his nostrils flaring when he opened the door. Was that...

  Judy grinned at him and held out a steaming cup. "Looking for this?"

  "Mmm, yes." He accepted the cup and took a careful sip, closing his eyes to relish the rich, dark flavor and will the caffeine directly to his brain. "You must be psychic."

  Judy shrugged, but her gaze was sharp with curiosity. "Don't thank me. Shannon brought it. Bagels too."

  His gut twisted, part hunger, part resentment. He knew before he glanced into the cardboard carton that they would be cinnamon-raisin, and there would also be a tub of cream cheese. The first cattle sale Shannon had worked at the auction barn, he'd teased her that bringing the auctioneer espresso and bagels was part of her job description as clerk. She'd laughed at him, but stopped by the bakery every Wednesday morning from then on.

  Now the familiar, yeasty-sweet smell turned his stomach.

  "No, thanks. I don't have much of an appetite this morning." Tyler turned his back on Judy's probing gaze. The second sip of espresso was bitter on his tongue. Did Shannon think he was so gullible he could be manipulated with baked goods and coffee?

  His mouth twisted. Why wouldn't she, considering how easy it had been last time?

  He set the cup down and went to work, firing up the public address system and running through a quick sound test before asking the contestants to clear the arena.

  "Where is Shannon?" he asked Judy, when she hadn't made an appearance by the time he announced that the tie down roping would start in five minutes.

  "She went for a walk, said she needed the exercise. As if she has to worry about her weight," Judy added dryly.

  Tyler nodded, not trusting himself to comment when the memory of Shannon's body pressed against his was far too fresh. Then he frowned. Judy was right. Shannon had lost a noticeable amount of weight, to the point that he recalled the distinct impression of her rib cage under his fingers.

  She'd never seemed particularly concerned about her weight before. What would make her go rail thin? He gave a silent, contemptuous snort. Sure as hell not from pining for him. With all the databases at her command, if she'd wanted him she could've found him at any minute of any day in the past fourteen months.

  She hadn't.

  Light footsteps pattered up the stairs. He turned, determined to be polite, if for no reason other than to quench that suspicious gleam in Judy's eye. Like him, Shannon wore dark glasses, but hers were probably due to the brilliant sunshine that streamed into the open front of the announcer's stand. She flashed her sweet, girl-next-door smile as she took her seat on the stool beside Judy.

  Tyler forced a return smile and lifted his cup. "Thanks."

  "No problem. You can buy tomorrow." She barely spared him a glance as she double-checked the stop watch and the clipboard of day sheets Judy handed her.

  Well. What had he expected? Deep, meaningful eye contact, as if her choice of baked goods somehow revealed her true feelings for him? Get a grip. This was Shannon, of the colossal nerve and bulletproof heart. She could be held at gunpoint and not show an honest emotion. Assuming she had any.

  He flipped on the power to the P.A. system and asked the riders to clear the arena. Judy passed him a day sheet, listing the contestants by event and order of competition. The judges waved, indicating they were ready to begin. Tyler announced the name of the first tie-down roper to compete. From that point on, he was immersed in the action, with no time to brood and barely any pauses to steal a glance at Shannon when she wasn't looking.

  The last steer trotted out of the arena at eleven-thirty. Judy and Shannon gathered their clipboards and headed to the rodeo office while Tyler shut down his equipment, stifling yet another yawn. First lunch, then he'd pull the blackout curtains in his hotel room, crank the air conditioner and nap until it was time to show up for the evening performance.

  He poked his head in the door of the office on his way to his truck. "Hey, Judy, I'll be..."

  The words withered on his tongue when Shannon glanced over her shoulder, sunglasses pushed onto her head. Geezus. She looked worse than he felt, her eyes shot through with red, the translucent skin beneath them bruised nearly purple. If he had to guess, he'd say she hadn't slept at all. Because of him?

  "You'll be what?" Judy asked, her inquisitive gaze bouncing from his face to Shannon's.

  He forced his attention to the older woman. "I'll, uh, be at the hotel, if you need me."

  Then he tucked his tail and ran before he could do anything really stupid—like apologize.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Shannon finished posting the morning scores and slumped into a chair, rubbing a weary hand across her eyes. Her head pounded with fatigue, and the strain of standing six feet away from Tyler all morning and not letting a flicker of what she felt show on her face.

  When she looked up, Judy was openly staring at her. "I'm a nosy old lady, so you might as well just tell me what's up and save me the trouble of nagging it out of you."

  "You're not an old lady."

  Judy flashed a quick grin and patted her hair, dyed jet black and cut short. "I hide it well. Don't change the subject."

  Shannon gave her a weak smile. "It's no big deal."

  "Bull. I've known Tyler a lot of years. First time I've ever seen him be downright rude. What happened between you two?"

  Shannon sighed. Time to trot out the lines she'd practiced half the night, between imaginary conversations with Tyler. At least with Judy she could tell most of the truth, and that was always easier than a flat out lie.

  "Do you know Tyler's family?" she asked.

  "Of course. Danny is around the same age as Tyler and his brother Kevin. They were all in junior and high school rodeo together, and their dad announced some rodeos for us when we first got into the stock contracting business."

  "Really?" Here was something the investigation hadn't turned up, but there hadn't been any reason to look at the father, considering he'd died of a heart attack almost three years before the Jernigans had become a blip on Shannon's radar. "I thought he was just an auctioneer."

  Judy shook her head. "Not just an auctioneer. A great one. And a decent rodeo announcer, but not like his son."

  Not many were like his son, Shannon thought. That voice of his was like sweet, dark chocolate, melting in your ear instead of your mouth. And maybe, if she could get Judy off on that tangent, she could weasel out of this interrogation.

  "Tyler is really good. I don't know how he keeps all that information in his head. We barely give him a time or a score and he's telling the audience where that puts the cowboy in the current rankings. And he has wonderful timing. I never realized the difference the announcer makes until I saw how well he plays the straight man to the clowns. Last night's crowd laughed at jokes that fell totally flat at Townsend."

  "He's a natural," Judy declared. "Plus he's worked his butt off. While the other
boys were behind the chutes, dreaming of winning world championships, Tyler was up in the announcer's stand helping his dad. He started working amateur rodeos while he was still in high school and got his professional card as soon as he turned eighteen. He'd be on the short list for the National Finals Rodeo by now if his dad hadn't died."

  Though Shannon already knew the answer, she asked anyway, playing her role. "Tyler took his place at the livestock auction?"

  Judy nodded. "They couldn't afford to bring someone in from outside. That sale barn had been in the Jernigan family for four generations, but they were fighting a losing battle. All the movie stars and rich Californians flooding the Flathead Valley, buying up the ranches and turning them into vacation homes with a few horses or cows for appearances. Every year, there were fewer ranchers selling fewer cattle..." She shook her head, grimacing. "Honestly, I think it killed Barry, knowing it was only a matter of time. I suppose that's what made Kevin desperate enough..."

  She made another face and busied herself organizing the draw sheets for the evening performance, obviously unwilling to discuss Kevin's downfall. Fine with Shannon. Given the choice, she'd wipe it all from her mind. Instead, she tidied up the table they used as a desk, preparing for the next flood of contestants.

  Judy blew out a gusty sigh. "It's too bad about the auction barn and all, but it did free Tyler up to turn pro and really hit the road. Hard to do when you have to be in Kalispell for every Wednesday sale."

  "No doubt." Shannon reached for her purse, almost out the door.

  Too late.

  Judy clipped the last page into place and gave Shannon her full attention. "When did you meet Tyler?"

  So much for tangents. Ah, well. Judy would've got around to it eventually. Shannon resigned herself to the inevitable, keeping her voice and expression utterly neutral. "I worked for them at the sale barn for a while, a little over a year ago."