Her Cowboy Protector
Her
Cowboy Protector
Roxie Rivera
Night Works Books
College Station, Texas
Copyright © 2015 by Roxie Rivera
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
Night Works Books
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College Station, Texas 77845
www.roxierivera.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Book Layout ©2013 BookDesignTemplates.com
Cover Photograph © 2013 The Killion Group, INC.
Her Cowboy Protector/Roxie Rivera -- 1st ed.
ISBN
978-1-63042-028-4
For the Viking and Moon Baby
Her Cowboy Protector
Cruz Montes can't believe her DEA Agent brother is abandoning her on a dusty, isolated ranch in West Texas with a cowboy she's never met. Carlos swears Niall is the only man who can keep Cruz and her unborn baby safe but she isn't so sure. One look at the rough ex-soldier and Cruz wonders if she wouldn't be safer on her own.
Rancher Niall Campbell isn't thrilled with the prospect of babysitting his best friend's sister, especially when he learns she's marked for death by an infamous drug cartel assassin. But he swore a blood oath with Carlos in the heat of battle and always keeps his word. He'll defend Cruz and her unborn baby with his life.
Cruz quickly realizes she isn't the only one being followed by a ghost. She's drawn to the haunted Niall. As she chips away at his emotional armor, Niall dares to dream about what it might be like to have a family of his own, to keep Cruz and her baby in his life.
But all those dreams will remain unrealized if he can't protect her.
Table of Contents
1
Chapter One
"He's coming."
"What?" Cruz tightened her grip on the cell phone and shoved up off the bed. Her Kindle slipped off her chest and fell onto the bedspread. She winced as a painful kick of protest whacked her ribs. She settled a calming hand on her round belly and gave it a reassuring pat. Apparently, little Felix didn't like sudden movement. "What do you mean?
He’s coming?
Who?"
"It's all over the street, Cruz. El Alacrán is back in Austin to settle some unfinished business."
Her brother's gravelly voice seemed unnaturally tight. There was no mistaking his concern. When a man who'd survived the hell of six tours in Iraq and Afghanistan and now two years undercover in a drug cartel showed that much worry things were deadly serious.
"Unfinished business?" She could barely manage a whisper. Tendrils of terror wound around her chest and squeezed tightly. She wasn't stupid. She was infamous cartel assassin’s unfinished business. The Scorpion had inexplicably left her breathing eight months earlier. Now he was coming back to finish the job.
Cruz swallowed the lump of terror clogging her throat and fought to breathe. "What am I going to do, Carlos?"
"Pack a bag or two. Just the essentials. Send texts to your friends and emails to your colleagues at the university. Tell them there's a family emergency. Make up something about our relatives in Mexico. They won't question your lack of communication if you're over there."
"What are you saying, Carlos? I have to run?"
"Do you have a better idea?"
She didn't. "What about your work?"
She was careful not to name his actual job over the phone. Her paranoia got the better of her. Anything could be tracked these days. Images of two men huddled in the back of a telephone company van with headphones and some kind of listening device flashed through her mind. It was crazy but that's how twisted her mind had become.
After being brutally attacked in her own home, Cruz never felt safe anymore. Not in her new apartment, not in her office at the university, not even talking on the phone. She remained on high-alert, always tense and convinced her personal bogeyman, The Scorpion, lurked just around the corner. Apparently she'd been right. He was somewhere out there right now and coming for her.
"I've got something figured out but you're not going to like it." Carlos's voice yanked her from her troubled thoughts. "Get your stuff ready and be waiting at the door. He'll be there in twenty minutes."
Her stomach dropped. "He?"
"Niall," her brother clarified. "Niall Campbell. He's an old army friend of mine. He's going to take care of you."
"I don't want someone else to take care of me, Carlos. I want you."
"Cruz," he said, his voice pained. "You know that's not possible."
"So what? You're just going to abandon me with a stranger?"
"I'm not abandoning you. Niall is my best friend. The man would run through the flames of hell holding a cup of gasoline if I asked. There is no one I trust more to keep you safe."
She squashed the urge to argue with him. He'd made up his mind and that was that. She and her brother had that rather obstinate trait in common.
"Does he know?" she asked finally. Cruz had a hard time believing any man would willingly take on her mess. "Did you tell him everything?"
"The pertinent parts. Look," Carlos sighed, "Niall will keep you and the baby safe, Cruz. There's no reason for El Alacrán to look for you out there in the ass end of Texas. Niall's ranch is isolated. The house is easy to protect. The nearest town is small. A new face would quickly rouse suspicion, and Niall has friends at the sheriff's department."
He was trying to make her feel better about this situation but it wasn't working. There was only one person she trusted to keep her and the baby safe and he was pawning her off on a strange special ops soldier turned cowboy.
She refused to harp on her disappointment. Carlos felt bad enough. Even though the investigation into her attack had never uncovered a motive, Carlos blamed himself for what had happened. Her hatred and anger remained squarely where they belonged: on the assassin who had earned his name by lurking in the shadows and killing his victims without warning, stinging like a scorpion and disappearing like a ghost.
Her body tensed with the agonizing memories of the time she'd spent with that monster. She quickly batted away the horrifying images and concentrated on the relaxation techniques she'd practiced with her therapist. Measured breaths and thoughts of nicer things, of her happy place.
As if trying to remind her of everything beautiful and innocent that had come from that night of horror, Felix stretched and kicked inside her. Cruz placed a protective hand over her belly and soothingly rubbed the spot. Whatever his origins, this baby would know only love from her. The moment she'd clapped eyes on his tiny body and waving hands in that first ultrasound at eleven weeks, Cruz had fallen in love. She'd silently vowed the baby would have a good life and never know of his biological father.
"Why have I never met this guy? If he's such a good friend, I mean."
"Niall and I connected before Afghanistan. We made it through some rough stuff over there and in Iraq. We became blood brothers."
Carlos didn't have to say anything more. As a member of the elite Delta Force, he'd seen more than his fair share of war and bloodshed. Her brother had always kept that side of his life separate from her. She'd been seventeen years old before she'd realized her brother wasn't actually a tank mechanic but a highly trained and deadly operative.
"Get a move on, kiddo. Your ride will be there soon. No electronics. Leave your personal cell and your laptop. We can't take the chance of him tracking you. He's a professional. We have to remember that if we're going to stay ahead of him."
"I know."
And, boy, did she ever. El Alacrán. The Scorpion. The notorious assassin for the ruthless De La Garza cartel, had infiltrated her old apartment with such ease and without the slightest noise. By the time she'd realized someone was in her home, he was crawling into her bed and pinning her to the mattress with that god-awful knife of his against her throat. She'd never had a chance.
"Keep your phone on speaker while you pack."
Carlos's request gave her pause. He was really worried if he wanted to keep tabs on her while she rushed around her apartment. Just how close was The Scorpion?
Her mind raced as she hurried to her closet and grabbed her set of wheeled suitcases. She hefted them onto the bed and unzipped them. She tried to choose versatile clothing. She had no idea where they were going or for how long so she plucked items from her summer maternity stash and cooler weather clothing. She even grabbed a pair of her pre-pregnancy cargo pants, just in case they'd be gone that long.
Her gaze jumped to the glider in the corner and the piles of neatly folded baby clothes. There was no way she could take the bassinet or bouncer or other baby items but she would be damned if she left behind the clothes she'd chosen. Cruz made space in her second suitcase for the tiny outfits and onesies. Her fingers lingered on the soft cotton in bright blues and pale greens and buttery yellows. Sadness swamped her. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.
Fury blazed through her chest and reduced the sadness settling there to ashes. She'd had just about enough of this monster psychopath. She was so sick of him and what he'd taken from her. Would she ever be safe again? Would she ever feel secure? Would there ever be a day where she wasn't constantly glancing over her shoulder or clutching her purse and the handgun hidden inside? How in the world was she supposed to raise a baby with a man like El Alacrán on her tail?
Cruz didn't have the answers. Hopelessness threatened to overwhelm her. She forced those feelings down, refusing to be paralyzed by the fear and uncertainty of her future. She'd survived worse than this. She'd make it somehow. She placed her hands on her belly. She'd just have to roll with the punches and make it work. Felix needed her to be strong.
With her clothes and toiletries packed, she picked up her personal cell phone and started sending out blanket texts to friends. She put together a quick email and bcc'ed it to her list of university contacts. She didn't think they'd worry too much. After what she'd been through last November, everyone walked on eggshells around her. Half the time, she suspected they wanted her to take an extended leave of absence for their own comfort. She doubted many suspicions would be raised by her unexpected request for time-off. If there were, oh well. She wouldn't be here to answer them.
Cruz turned off her phone and unplugged her laptop and stored them in the bottom drawer of her bedside table. She glanced at her backpack and considered leaving it behind. The idea of abandoning four years of doctoral research made her sick. She couldn't take her laptop or access university accounts but she could take her external hard drive, assorted flash drives and discs and notebooks. She rifled through her bag and removed anything that wasn't absolutely necessary.
Cruz's gaze fell on the two black suitcases, a hot pink and lime green polka dot toiletry case and her backpack. Twenty-four years of her life had been reduced to those four bags. She just didn't have the words to describe her emotions or the time to dwell on figuring them out.
The sound of an insistent and incredibly loud cop-knock startled Cruz. She put a hand to her chest, her heart slamming against her sternum with fright. Blowing out a terrified breath, she yelled at her phone. "Jeez, Carlos, your friend almost gave me a heart attack!"
Carlos chuckled. "Sorry. Niall isn't known for his soft touch."
"I almost peed my pants, Carlos. And believe me," she said angrily, "at thirty-one weeks pregnant, my bladder is working off a hair trigger."
"Come on, Cruz!" Carlos sounded grossed out. "TMI,
mi'ja
!"
She rolled her eyes and strode to her bedside table. On the side closest to her mattress hung a loaded pistol, the heavy piece suspended by a magnet she'd affixed to the wood for easy access. Cruz removed the gun and checked the safety. Pistol in one hand and phone clutched in the other, she left her bedroom. Maybe it was her brother's friend on the other side of that door or maybe it was her worst nightmare come to snuff her out. Either way, she wasn't taking a chance.
