Gunslinger

He slid his hands to her elbows, stopping her. “I’m not treating our first time together like we’re teenagers looking for a fast thrill in a game room. We’re not only too old for that, we deserve better.”

Dusting her hands as if she was done, she hurried away. “Fine. This is all I have, Bryce. All I can do.”

He touched her shoulder and she stopped. Did she want him to change her mind? Show her how much he cared about her? “If it were me … If our positions were reversed, and I was the one with scars, what would you do right now, Kylie? Would you let me run away? Continue to be afraid?” She covered her face. “I am afraid.”

He could barely hear her. He asked just as quietly, “Of me?”

“Strangely enough, no. But yes, maybe of you most of all.”

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ANGI MORGAN writes Mills & Boon Intrigue novels “where honor and danger collide with love.” She combines actual Texas settings with characters who are in realistic and dangerous situations. Angi’s work has been a finalist for numerous awards, including the Booksellers’ Best Award and the Daphne du Maurier Award. Angi and her husband live in north Texas.

Visit her website, www.angimorgan.com, or follow her on Facebook at Angi Morgan Books. She loves to hang out with fans in her closed group: bit.ly/angifriends.

There is never a book completed without my pals Jan and Robin.

This one also goes to my wonderful agent, Jill, and to the patience of my amazing editor, Allison! Thanks, ladies, for hanging in there with me.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

Austin, Texas, five years ago

Sissy Jorgenson-Tenoreno attempted a smile at her friends to make the empty parking lot less spooky. It didn’t work. “This is an odd place to meet, even for Xander.”

The food truck’s inside lights were glowing. So were the Christmas lights strung around the single picnic table out front. Daddy Cade’s Po’Boys didn’t seem to be one of the more popular gourmet trucks in town. Good thing she’d brought her entourage of Darren, Janna and Linda with her.

Xander should think twice if he thought she’d meet him anywhere alone.

“Your soon-to-be ex-husband probably chose this place because he knew you’d never eat here,” Darren said. “You make every calorie count twice. Especially now that you need your figure back.”

She was still the same size as when they’d eloped eight months ago. In fact, the outfit she was wearing had been bought on their unofficial honeymoon trip to Paris.

“Sissy Jorgenson shouldn’t be forced to come to a place like this,” Janna complained. “You should send the police for your things. Even the cat.”

Xander’s father owns the police.

Did it really bother her that they talked as if they understood the life she’d led before getting married? Teen model, then married to the mob? They had no clue. Not really. A different location every week was glamorous to them. A different hotel each week was appealing. A life of travel and what appeared to be one party after another.

Even the parties got old. The same faces night after night. There weren’t any sleepy movie days in front of the television. No study binges, no spontaneous orders of pizza and beer. No darting to the store for milk and bread, which were never on the menu anyway.

One day someone might ask what had been going through her mind when she got married. Her friends shrugged the divorce off as if it was no big deal. What had she expected? Happily ever after? Looking back, she hadn’t really expected anything. She might not have known what marriage would be like, but she knew what she wanted.

The answer was so simple. She’d wanted a home. A place to belong, a family and a pet. She’d never had one and always wanted to save the strays she saw while traveling. Instead, being married was equivalent to being locked inside a mansion surrounded by people who had no love in their hearts.

“I need a bottle of water or maybe this place sells Gel Shots. Five or six of those and we’ll be ready to party again.” Linda staggered across the gravel parking lot to the food truck and banged on the window. When no one answered, she swayed back to the group. “I’m so envious. In three days you’ll be jet-setting halfway across the world for a fabulous Roman adventure. I, on the other hand, will be starting another boring semester of school.”

While starving herself to drop down to her agent’s ideal weight, she’d be wishing every minute for her friend’s boring life.

“Anybody want a fried oyster po’boy? Of course Sissy’s answer is no. She can’t waste calories on stinky food. The bun alone would be—”

Sissy tuned them out and let them make fun of the way she’d eaten while staying with them over the past two months. They didn’t understand that drastic measures were needed if she wanted her career back.

Even at the same weight there was the perception of what her body should be. She had to be thinner, taller, sleeker—more everything—to get back on top of the heap of girls who came along every day.

Fortunately, she hadn’t been out of the paparazzi’s eye very long. Her husband had made certain she’d been on his arm for special events. The press asked if she planned to return to her career after the honeymoon was over. Xander had assured them several times that their life would be a never-ending honeymoon.

But Xander Tenoreno was a liar and horrible person. If there was a villain in her life, it would be him. She was walking away from the divorce almost destitute. She’d been a dumb kid and rushed into marriage without a prenup. He’d taken everything. They’d been playing whose divorce attorney was the toughest until she’d realized that she could start over if she walked away.

It didn’t matter. All she wanted was Miss Kitty, mainly to save her from the wrath of the household. None of the family was happy about the divorce. They didn’t believe in it and took ‘till death do you part’ very literally.

No matter what Xander said or did, he couldn’t keep her down. He could keep all of the money. According to her agent, she was still in high demand because of the public life she’d led, but she was almost old in model years. Old and only just celebrating her twenty-first birthday next week.

She looked around at the isolated parking lot and wondered if Xander was trying to frighten her. He didn’t have to try hard. Would Xander or his family stoop to something that would hurt her friends? She shook her head, answering herself. Even they wouldn’t be that public.

“What happened between you two, Sissy? Why did your Mr. Hunky-poo start sleeping around? He was so much fun to party with.” Linda asked, hands on her hips, expecting an answer.

Okay, everyone in the parking lot expected an answer. After all, her life was continually up for discussion. Her every move was up for debate.

The threats and demands had been plentiful after their wedding vows but she hadn’t told anyone. Not a soul. Not even her attorney. “I was supposed to stay at the mansion and be traipsed out whenever he needed someone to hang on his arm. It wasn’t my scene.”

“Barefoot, pregnant and cooking over a hot stove? You?” Janna laughed and everyone joined in.

That scenario would never have happened, but it was close. Of course she didn’t get pregnant. Then a dozen doctors all agreed that there was no reason they couldn’t have children. The consensus was that they shouldn’t be in such a hurry. Give it time. But Xander had just quit. He tended to want immediate gratification for everything he did. People seemed to show up injured if he didn’t.

“I don’t have to think about that anymore.” She laced her fingers, then pulled them apart, sitting on them to keep still. He can’t hurt me if I’m not there.

The Tenoreno family wanted her out of the way.

Gone. Forever.

As long as he’d finally agreed to give her Miss Kitty, she could leave Texas and never look back. She looked around at the isolated food trailer. No other cars. No parking lot lights. It was just such an odd place for a man who liked everything shiny and new.

Including his women.

“It’s eight forty-five. How long do we have to wait? That new band is opening at the Bat House. Is he always this late?” Darren paced.

“Yes. Time means nothing to him.” She’d never thought he’d be here on the dot. But if roles were reversed and she was the one late, he would euthanize Miss Kitty as he’d threatened more than once to keep Sissy in line.

A super big SUV drove by. Smoke curled from the dark windows as it slowed. The bass of the music inside echoed through her chest it was so loud. Her friends danced to the hip-hop rhythm.

“We need music,” Janna said, dancing to the fading beat over to the food truck window. “Come on. Can’t you open up for a second? Even for water?”

Sissy swatted at her neck and shivered. It felt like something was crawling on her. Or maybe someone had walked on her grave. Wasn’t that the saying? She discovered a tendril of her long hair had blown free from its intricate braid and tickled her skin. Her imagination had gone super wild.

As if she wasn’t already scared enough. Now the thought of spiders in her hair had her all itchy. Another vehicle approached the three-way intersection with the same low bass thump. Another SUV?

Was it her imagination or an odd premonition that made her stand and move to the side of the trailer? She didn’t know. But as the SUV drew even with the lot, she saw the gun barrel in the open window. She screamed. She dialed the number she’d had ready on her cell since they’d arrived.

The gunfire was maddeningly loud. She tried to get to the car. The gravel popped up in front of her hitting her legs first one direction and then the other. They shot all around her, missing. She was their target. She didn’t doubt that for a second.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

The voice was drowned out by more rapid fire of another weapon. Laughter from the men as they opened the car doors. She wanted to recognize one of the men who followed the Tenoreno family everywhere. She couldn’t be certain. But the family wanted her out of the way.

Gone. Forever.

There was nowhere to run. No one to call out to for help. She was about to die and wanted to scream louder. Scream hysterically.

The phone was still in her palm. She couldn’t be certain the police would respond. Her husband might have paid them to avoid the area. She prayed someone decent was on the other end of the call, trying to discover what was happening in this remote parking lot.

The gunfire stopped.

Sissy looked up, blinking hard to see her attackers. Maybe they were just trying to scare—another burst. Linda’s screams were cut off. Janna’s followed. Her eyes never shut as she fell to the ground.

The stinging fire in her side whipped her around. Another stabbed through her arm like a hot knife through butter...quick, silently tearing her flesh. A third and fourth pierced under her arm that had flown above her head.

Darren wrapped his arms around her but they fell. She landed hard under him. His body protected her from the full force of the bullets. The white gravel that had been hard to walk through minutes earlier turned dark. It registered but there was no pain. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t speak.

The phone wasn’t in her hand. It had bounced away. The case had popped open, but the light was still on. Someone still listened.

It was interesting what registered in her mind during those few life-ending seconds. Trivial information like the spots of blood now on the metal legs of the table. Or the burned-out bulb on the twinkle lights at the rear of the lot.

The noise of the bass hip-hop and guns faded away to be replaced by sirens.

What did any detail around her matter? She’d been shot...more than once. She was about to die. There was no one left to truly grieve for her. She’d said goodbye to a greedy family long ago. Her only friends were dead because she hadn’t wanted to be alone to face her ex-husband.

After all their sacrifice, she would still die alone.

What good had she accomplished in her life? She knew how to walk in high heels and how to throw her hair over her shoulder before placing her hand on her hip.

Somehow she dragged her hand to her side and cried out from the pain. She wanted to tell someone the truth. Leave some sort of message about who had killed her. There wasn’t a way to reach her phone. She couldn’t move Darren.

Her last thought should have been about kittens or something good. Instead the only thing that repeated over and over again was a never-to-be-seen headline...

Xander Tenoreno Had Killed His Wife, Sissy Jorgenson, and No One Would Ever Know.

Chapter One

Hico, Texas, present day

“Shirtless? Of course I’m shirtless.” Bryce Johnson yanked the muscle shirt over his head, catching it on his ear. “What legitimate undercover Texas Ranger mows a lawn trying to get a woman’s attention wearing a shirt?”

“I bet you have your glasses on, too.” There was a familiar sound from his partner, Jesse Ryder, as he held the phone to his chest and laughed. “And...um...don’t forget your Sig is showing.”

Bryce scrambled behind his back. He gave up and went inside to drop his weapon, shirt and glasses. He didn’t need to see up close to mow the lawn anyway. The briskness of the AC helped cool his frustration. A little.

“You know...” Jesse continued laughing. “If just taking your shirt off doesn’t work, you could try a speedo and a giant sombrero.”

“Har har har.”

Jesse should be giving him legitimate advice for his first undercover assignment. Not poking him with a big stick through the phone. It didn’t matter. His partner was three for three this morning and it seemed like Bryce was about to strike out.

This weekend was his final at bat.

“Seriously, man, is there a problem? If you don’t get her attention today, you might as well hang it up. They’re going to pull the plug and move on.”

“We don’t know for a fact this is Tenoreno’s ex-wife.”

“Now, look, Bryce. You sold Major Parker on this assignment because you were certain this woman was the ex. What’s changed your mind?”

“Nothing. But there’s been no evidence or action that solidifies my hunch either.”

“Hunch? Hunch?” Jesse’s voice rose in decibels and octaves. “You know how important this is to me, pal. The state’s attorney needs a slam dunk in the courtroom this fall. If this isn’t the ex, you need to move on and find her. We don’t have time for you to play a hunch.”

The picture he’d burned into his memory could be a match. Was a match as far as he was concerned. He was certain. But short of walking up to her and asking if she had a bullet-wound scar on her abdomen and two others under her arm, there was no proof.

He needed proof or her admission since he didn’t want to ask her outright. He couldn’t ask the time of day or to borrow a cup of sugar. Her house was secure and locked up tighter than the local bank.

“When I’m not fixing something on this rental—which was a part of the deal you hatched up—I’m spending my spare time running more searches. You can’t guilt-trip me into working harder. I haven’t had a day off in weeks.”

“I know, man. We just don’t have time to waste.”

There was a lot more to this case than just finding a potential witness. The Tenoreno family had already tried to kill law officers to make the case fall apart. As far as they knew, the crime family was still searching for the primary witness under Company F protection.

“Then let me get back outside and come up with a way to introduce myself.” He disconnected before his partner could try to give him more advice. His head was swimming with all the suggestions from the Rangers in his company.

He left his service weapon in the lockbox he’d brought with him last week. Short trips back to Waco down Texas 6 had yielded more than a couple of suitcases of his stuff. The house was furnished, but he’d brought items to make it livable. Including his television and game station.

Livable? More like bachelorized.

The July heat pounded on his shoulders as he finished the outside chores. Not a bright idea for skin that hadn’t seen the light of day in years. He’d listened to advice from another Texas Ranger about how to get a woman’s attention, and today he was desperate.

Bryce was finally on an assignment that didn’t include a computer. For the most part anyway. He was undercover. On his own and getting sunburned.

It had been a while since his back had seen the sun and done yardwork. Too long apparently. He’d just finished the lawn—the burning-dried-up-grass-with-no-trees-in-the-yard lawn. Patches of it were more dirt than the combo of overgrown weeds that he’d just plowed through.

If he didn’t get closer to his target this weekend, his undercover time was done. Nothing he did and nowhere he’d been seemed to catch Kylie Scott’s eye. Twice he’d been thrown next to her by town matchmakers. Twice they’d had polite conversation. Twice he’d been certain he’d broken through her protective shell. And twice he’d been wrong.

Holding his straw hat away from him, he turned the water hose on himself with the other. Spitting-hot water hit his skin but quickly soothed the burn. Probably wasn’t good against sun protection, but he was just dang hot and wanted to cool down fast.

He also needed a minute to watch the house across the street and two doors down. She had been taking care of lawn maintenance on a Saturday morning, too. Conservatively dressed in shorts and a long-sleeved shirt, Kylie Scott wasn’t flashy. No bikini tops to work on her tan.

Pecan Street was empty now and Kylie’s garage door was shut. He should put the yard tools away and return to the half-assed air-conditioning. He’d missed when she’d finished up and moved inside.

“Some undercover cop you turned out to be.” He’d talked more to himself in the past week than he’d ever admit. The red shoulders were just going to get worse. He might as well head to the store and grab some ointment. Or maybe he could ask to borrow some from Kylie.

Taking a drink from the hose, he contemplated that until there was a puddle of mud next to him. How could he meet her?

Former teen supermodel Sissy Jorgenson, the ex-wife of a short-lived marriage to Xander Tenoreno was hiding and doing a damn good job of it. Her ex was the state’s real target. It would help their case if they had more evidence against the Texas crime family and Company F had been assigned to obtain it.

Bottom line, Xander was also looking for his ex-bride. The rumor circulating was that she had evidence against him that had kept her alive. True or false, Bryce didn’t know. His goal was to find Sissy/Kylie and convince her to hand over her evidence against the Tenorenos.

Head of the family, Paul Tenoreno, was behind bars without bail facing trial in September. The final blow would be to add his son Xander as a cellmate. Bryce soaked his head, then shook his hair from side to side. Water sprayed like his brother’s dog shaking after swimming in their pool.

“As good as that feels, you might not want to greet your neighbors that way.”

He recognized Kylie’s voice, spun around. She screamed a little and hopped backward. He’d soaked her shirt with the water hose.

“Dammit, that was careless of me. Sorry.” Bryce wiped his eyes free of droplets still clinging to his skin.

“Wow, that was a bit of a shock.” She fanned her shirt front, but didn’t run home.

“I, uh...didn’t hear you come up.”

“I hope so, because if you wanted to have a wet T-shirt contest... Well, you’d need a shirt.” She nodded toward him, wringing the edge of her shirt onto her multicolored toenails.

Wait. What? Was she flirting with him?

Without his glasses and with water dripping into his eyes, he could barely see her facial expression, just her bright smile. True wheat-blond hair was pulled into a ponytail and stuck through the back of a ball cap. She was the right height of about five feet eleven. She wasn’t rail-thin, but slender enough to be a teenage model who had left the business.

“Come to think about it, we probably do have some guys on this street who wouldn’t mind serving as the judges. You’d win of course.”

“Huh? Oh. Right.” He couldn’t think of anything to say.

“You’re making a bigger puddle.” She pointed to his feet.

Bryce jumped toward the faucet and turned off the water, cursing under his breath at his ineptness. He slowly stood, ready to see where this strange encounter would lead.

“Bryce? I don’t mean to impose, but I need your help. That is, if you could spare a few minutes.”

“I don’t have any plans.”

She relaxed and let out a long sigh. “Oh good. It shouldn’t take long. I noticed that you have an extension ladder and wondered if you could get my pole saw out of the tree in my backyard.”

“Sure.” Flirting? Wishful thinking was more like it.

He retrieved the ladder from the garage and headed down the middle of the small town street.

“Need help?”

“Not at all, I got this.”

She was already walking next to him as if she’d known how he would answer. The ladder was more awkward than heavy. Sort of like their conversation. He had an opportunity now and couldn’t think of anything he might ask that wouldn’t sound suspicious.

Last thing he needed was for her to take off and disappear. He’d never hear the end of that at the office.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t talk much.”

“Not really. If I’m honest, I haven’t gotten much practice lately.” He rested the ladder on the inside of her fence as she worked the combination lock on the gate. If she wasn’t the former Sissy Tenoreno, something had happened to Kylie Scott to make her overcautious.

“Are we being honest?” She smiled shyly, focusing on removing the lock.

The temperature should have dropped when they walked under the oak shade tree. But he could swear it rose several degrees when she stole a look before she pushed up her sunglasses.

In the past couple of weeks, he’d never seen her eyes up close. Even without his glasses, her long eyelashes, tinted a rich dark brown, hadn’t hidden the quick peek she’d taken of his chest.

Instead of the bright blue eyes from her modeling days, they were a deep dark brown—almost black—when she didn’t hide behind mirrored shades. Definitely not the color of Sissy’s, but the shape...