Settle Down, Cowboy!

Marriage isn’t in Dante Callahan’s short-term plans. But Ana St. John is! After the gorgeous nanny bodyguard—and woman of his fantasies—turns the tables and seduces him, Dante is suddenly corralling his inner wild man. Now Ana is having his baby…and refusing to say “I do!”

There’s no denying Ana’s powerful feelings for Dante. But is the footloose rancher—and the hottest cowboy in New Mexico—ready to hang up his spurs for married life? According to the legend of the magic wedding dress, he’s not.

Dante’s not one to fool with family lore. But he’s got to provide a major Cinderella moment to win over his prospective bride. He may be crazy for pulling out all the stops to get Ana to marry him—but that’s part of the fun of being a Callahan!

“You like me.”

He pulled her to him. Dante didn’t allow himself to consider defeat—he knew Ana was crazy about him. No woman made love to a man the way Ana did with him and honestly believed she wasn’t in love with him.

No. Not just in love. She was crazy for him, just as much as he was for her.

It was the baby thing bugging her—he knew it had to be.

“Marry me.”

He surprised both of them by saying it. But he felt great the moment he said it. Ana’s eyes widened, and he thought, bingo, that was the right thing to say.

But then she shook her head, sending his world into dust. “I can’t, Dante. You don’t understand. I— It wouldn’t work. We’re not right for each other.”

“You’re exactly right for me.”

Dear Reader,

In this eleventh book of the Callahan saga, we learn a lot about true love in the face of adventure—which is just what we want from our heroes and heroines! Summer is a wonderful time to dream about brave men and women fighting to do what’s right, even if doing what’s right isn’t easy.

Dante Callahan, the first of the Chacon Callahan twins to suffer what he believes is unrequited love with the beautiful nanny bodyguard Ana St. John, sets out to prove himself on the bull-riding circuit. But he finds his place is back with the family…yet danger lurks. Dante never imagines that the way he’ll finally get the bodyguard of his dreams in his arms is by allowing her to protect him—a difficult thing for a tough guy to accept! Ana St. John isn’t about to give up on her man, however; she’s been waiting a long while to find out if the rangy cowboy is the man of her dreams. According to the magic wedding dress, maybe he’s not…if the Callahan legend is to be believed.

Yet we know there’s always a happy ending at Rancho Diablo! And I hope you’ll join me and the Callahans on this next book in the journey of the Callahan family toward happiness and true love.

Best wishes always,

Tina Leonard

Branded by a Callahan

Tina Leonard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tina Leonard is a USA TODAY bestselling and award-winning author of more than fifty projects, including several popular miniseries for Harlequin American Romance. Known for bad-boy heroes and smart, adventurous heroines, her books have made the USA TODAY, Waldenbooks, Ingram and Nielsen BookScan bestseller lists. Born on a military base, Tina lived in many states before eventually marrying the boy who did her crayon printing for her in the first grade. You can visit her at www.tinaleonard.com, and follow her on Facebook and Twitter.

Many thanks to the wonderful readers

who have taken the Callahans into their hearts

Contents

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

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter One

“If someone’s looking for a fight with a Callahan, he’ll sure find one.”

—Bode Jenkins, neighboring ranch owner to a

reporter asking questions about the Callahan legend

Dante Callahan stared at the enormous spotted bull pawing the ground and tossing its huge horns before climbing over the chute with a sense of impending doom. For his ride he’d drawn Firefreak, a bounty bull, and he’d started to wonder why he’d let his twin, Tighe, talk him into this. Dante had been working at the rodeo, practicing being a barrel man, doing a little mutton busting setup for the kiddies on the side, simply trying to keep Tighe out of trouble—though his twin seemed hell-bent on finding said trouble. Today his sole goal was to survive Firefreak, legendary badass rank bull. The last cowboy who’d ridden him—tried to ride him—had ended up in the hospital with broken bones.

All of this was to avoid Dante mooning over Ana St. John, the hot babe bodyguard who worked at Rancho Diablo.

Ana, who’d never glanced his way except by accident.

Dante got on the bull, settled himself with a choke hold on the rope, mashed his hat down on his head. Cowboys yelled encouragement, instructions, some various bits of garbled wisdom and maybe a prayer or two. He took a deep breath, nodded—and the chute burst open.

Hell hit Dante so fast he hung on by reflex. The jaw-grinding, butt-breaking bucking set his insides screaming, and then he was on the ground, staring up at nothing, before adrenaline shot him to his feet to scramble away from the pounding hooves intent on his destruction.

“That was awesome, bro!” Tighe yelled as Dante stumbled out of the arena. “Five seconds!”

Five seconds—of hell. Gasping, Dante held his heaving ribs, some of which ached like sin, and spit out his mouth guard. “My life passed before my eyes,” he said, lurching to sit on a hay bale. “Holy smokes, I think I saw the face of God.”

Tighe laughed, pounded him on the back. “You’re fine. You’re all right.”

“Yeah. He didn’t put me in the hospital.”

Cowboys came by, shouting words at him he heard but that somehow didn’t sink in. “I’ve got to do that again.”

His twin handed him a water bottle. “On Firefreak?”

“Sorry piece of boot leather isn’t going to defeat me.” The thing was, for those glorious five seconds, it had been all about survival, sort of like when he’d been in Afghanistan, only more endurable because Firefreak was an enemy he had control of. Five seconds of nothing but a mind-numbing, desperate attempt to hang on—and he hadn’t donated one of those seconds to thinking about Ana.

It had been glorious relief.

“We have enough points to move on,” Tighe said. “Next rodeo, next ride.”

Dante rubbed his rib, wiped his brow. “I’m going home, bro.”

Tighe straightened, his expression shocked dismay. “Home to Rancho Diablo? Why?”

He couldn’t explain it, not even to his twin. But Tighe must have felt it. The two of them practically shared every thought. “It’s almost Halloween. I want to see the kids trick-or-treat.” He sighed at the memory and felt strength washing over him. “There’s nothing like seeing all the Callahan kinder dressed up like tiny ghosts and ballerinas.”

Tighe smiled. “True.”

“We’ve been gone for months, chasing this dream.” He’d last gone home for a wedding in June, when his brother Falcon had married the light of his life, Taylor Waters. Feeling the call of the wild, Dante and Tighe had quit the family fold, leaving their brothers and sister to keep the enemy stalking Rancho Diablo at bay.

He’d worked out his wild oats. Or gotten them crushed out of him by the likes of Firefreak.

“You think you’re over long-legged Ana of the streaming golden hair and luscious lips? I believe that’s how you refer to her when you’re thrashing in your sleep.”

“Wasn’t anything to get over.” Dante wiped his face, brought away a little sawdust, sweat and a bit of blood. “I’m probably about as over her as you are over her buddy River. She of the teasing eyes and voice of a goddess, as you mumble after you’ve had a six-pack or so.”

Tighe grunted. “Stay strong, bro. Denial is the first hint ye old heart still acheth.”

“Shut up, Tighe.” Maybe his twin was right, but the loyalty factor lately had reared its head in his thoughts. He could only ditch the family so long, wouldn’t have ditched them at all if he hadn’t felt a burning need to keep Tighe out of trouble. They’d almost never been separated, rarely even during their terms in Afghanistan. As SEALs, they weren’t assigned to the same team, but they’d still been able to keep tabs on each other. “It’s fine.” He got up, happy that his body ached more than his heart. “It’s more than fine.”

“Good.” Tighe stood beside him. “Don’t think I have to tell you I’m not going.”

“All in good time.” Dante shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

“You gonna marry her?”

Dante laughed. “I’m not a marrying man.”

“You act like a marrying man, all soreheaded whenever anyone mentions Ana.”

“I don’t want to marry her.” The nanny bodyguard, who protected Sloan and Kendall’s little boys from potential kidnappers, was smooth and tall, and when she walked it was more of a stalk, like a sexy panther. His throat tended to dry out just watching Ana move, as if he was a dog watching a bone swing just out of reach. His heart kicked into overdrive and his, well... Suffice it to say he had a burn that wouldn’t quit around her. Sometimes he was positive Ana had been brought to the ranch just to torture him with sweet, restless dreams; his own hell for longing for beauty and goodness in his life these days, punishment exacted for the sins he’d committed. “I think I want to sleep with her. Surely that’s all it is.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Tighe shook his head. “Sometimes one thing leads to another.”

“Doubt it.”

“Why don’t you just spend the night with her then and quit going around like someone’s shot you full of holes?”

“Because I’m afraid of her.” Dante took off some of his gear. Making up his mind felt great. He’d faced the worst of what a rank bull had to offer, now he could face the rest of what he needed to. “She’s so radioactive that I’m afraid I’d never get over it once I—”

“That’s fine.” Tighe shuddered. “There’s nothing more devastating than lust when emotion is involved. It’s good old-fashioned sex with no strings for me, or I’m not getting near it.”

“Yeah, well, cry me a river.” Dante packed up his stuff. “Good luck at the next ride.”

“You’re leaving today?” Tighe’s brows went sky-high. Disappointment was etched in his navy eyes, and Dante felt another stab of disloyalty for leaving his twin behind.

“Gotta be home in time for tricks or treats.” It really was something to behold, seeing almost two dozen Callahan children running around munching on popcorn balls and candy corn. Ghost stories would be told—gently—and hot apple cider drunk. He wasn’t about to miss the fun. There’d be pony rides and a ghost piñata for the tiniest to swing at with a sponge bat. “I’m heading for Hell’s Colony first for tricks-’n-treats, then on to Rancho Diablo for the real haunting.”

Tighe smirked. “You’ll be back with me on the circuit soon. I give it two, three weeks. As soon as you realize you’d rather be riding Firefreak than being invisible to the nanny bodyguard goddess, you’ll hotfoot it right back. You know where to find me.”

“Yeah. Happy trails. Don’t bust your noggin. See ya, bro.” He grabbed his stuff and headed off, looking forward to testing himself against the ultimate green-eyed fire.

* * *

THE HUGE SPREAD in Hell’s Colony, Texas, was a compound, actually, owned by the Phillips family. Beautiful Kendall Phillips had married his brother Sloan, and when the Callahans had needed a place to hide out for a while, Kendall had offered her family home. It had turned out nicely for all because it kept all the Diablo Callahans together, and safe from those that meant them harm.

The Callahan children loved being together. Halloween night was no exception, and almost two dozen diminutive ghosts, tiny pumpkins, some petite pea pods still in carriers and a few larger Cinderellas and Zorros ran around holding pillowcases for the treats they hoped to collect. Moms were dressed as anything from Raggedy Ann to Glinda the Good Witch from Oz, and Dante laughed at some of his cousins and their getups. He was feeling pretty good about his own costume—a black mask, black cowboy hat and jingling spurs. He was channeling “cowboy rascal”—maybe the outfit wasn’t far off enough to be a costume—when Ana slinked past him wearing what could only be termed as a nurse’s uniform, and suddenly Dante lacked the serenity he’d previously boasted of to his twin. Oh, he guessed it wasn’t a sexy costume in the classical sense; she didn’t wear garters, and there were none of the frills that went along with the tacky version of the nurse’s uniform. She was simply dressed in purple scrubs. Purple top, purple pants, long hair up in a streaming gold ponytail, and high tan cork sandals. It wasn’t supposed to be sexy. She was, after all, a nanny—or bodyguard, take your pick—to Sloan’s twins, but as far as Dante was concerned, Ana could wear a plastic trash sack and his adrenaline would still jet into overdrive.

Tighe had been so right.

Blast.

“Hi, Dante,” Ana said, and he gulped.

“Hi, Ana.” He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but he didn’t want to sound like a thickheaded sad sack, which his brothers would tell him he was. So he swallowed his real thoughts back.

“Long time, no see.” She beamed at him as if he was a man among men, and he grew uncomfortably hot under his black mask. “How’s the rodeo?”

“Good enough.” He was tongue-tied, which only happened around her.

“I’m off to take the children through the haunted house. It’s really a couple of rooms in one of the guesthouses we set up with Clifford the Big Red Dog story time and a Candyland trail. Joining us later?”

Emerald eyes blinked at him sweetly. He could think of nothing he’d like more than to join her in a haunted house, or any house at all. “Sure.”

She gave him a last big smile and stalked off, pantherlike and graceful, and Dante knew he was doomed. Tighe could probably pick up his heated brain waves from seven hundred miles away and was doubled over laughing, not to mention counting off the three weeks he expected his twin to last under the onslaught of blinding lust Dante experienced around Ana.

“Have you been putting a little adult additive into the cider, bro?” Ash asked, looking up at him, concerned. “Your eyes are all glazed over.”

“I wish. Got any?”

His sister giggled. “Nope. Around the kiddies we abstain. After they go to bed, though, I heard Fiona’s got special libations for us. Black martinis and bloody rum punch, if I heard her right. We all only get one, so you better hustle to claim yours if you want to enjoy the paranormal experience. You’ve been assigned to the sponge piñata event. I’ve got to go shepherd pitching pennies into pumpkins.” His sister went off, throwing herself into the kiddie fray with enthusiasm.

It was so good to be home. Dante went to run the sponge piñata, pretty certain he needed more than a howling-good drink if he was going to survive staring at Ana with no kisses planned for him on her Hallows Eve schedule.

* * *

AFTER THE MUNCHKIN MAYHEM, the evening was quiet. The adults sat around the kitchen, satisfied that the children had gone to bed with visions of candy corn and Clifford the Big Red Dog dancing in their heads. Dante sucked at his black martini, happy he hadn’t missed the mayhem. It really was the best part of being in a large family, which he was, now that his clan had found the long lost Callahans of his missing father’s brother, Jeremiah.

He and his six siblings were helping their Callahan cousins until the evil had passed from their home in New Mexico. The cousins stayed here in Hell’s Colony with the wives and children, and Dante and his siblings tried to stay one step ahead of trouble at Rancho Diablo. Basically bodyguards for hire, assigned by the head of the Callahan clan, Chief Running Bear.

It wasn’t always easy. So far on their watch, three kidnappings had taken place—two of the women and one brother, Falcon. He and his six siblings were military operatives, raised in the tribe and tough to sneak up on—yet despite their best efforts, they’d found themselves under attack, too.

When Tighe had taken off to rodeo, Dante had joined him, though he’d felt like a traitor to his Callahan cousins, his brothers and sister and Aunt Fiona by leaving.

Ashlyn plopped down next to him, a pile of candy corns in a bowl her offering to him. “Cheer up. The kiddies didn’t beat you with the sponge bat. The ghost piñata was popped, and candy dispensed. Good times, good times.”

He grinned at his silver-blond-haired sister who was dressed like a sparkling fairy sprite. “How come you got to go off post tonight? Thought all the operatives were staying at Rancho Diablo to be on the safe side.”

“Because I’m fun. We flipped for it, and Jace, Galen and Falcon came up short. Sloan got to come for the fun because his twins are almost old enough to know what’s going on. They were darling little pea pods.” She grinned. “That’s why Ana and River are here.”

He glanced at the nanny bodyguards as surreptitiously as possible, caught Ana sneaking a peek at him. He remembered he was still wearing his black mask and removed it, figuring he didn’t need the Lone Ranger vibe anymore.

“I missed you, you know, even if you’re a schmuck,” Ash said cheerfully. “Staying awhile this time?”

“I’m back for good.”

“You won’t run away from your heart again?”

He sighed, sipping the martini, thinking it wasn’t any blacker than his hopes at the moment. “I’m in for the long haul.”

“Good.” She looked satisfied. “Shall we make a wager?”

“If we must.”

“I wager you’ll figure out a way to romance Ana by Christmas.” She grinned. “Sloan and Falcon fell much more easily than I ever dreamed. You should be a piece of cake. You’re a softie and already have your target in sight.”

He’d already fallen, so the wager was lopsided. Ana had never given him the time of day, no more than River gave Tighe any reason to hope. Only Jace seemed to hold the key to the bodyguards, and that alone was annoying. “Trust me, I’d be more than willing to wager whatever you wanted, if I thought there was half a chance. I don’t wager when the house deck is stacked against me.”

“It’s for charity,” Ash said. “I’m trying to raise five hundred bucks for the horse rescue in Diablo. Pony up, bro. If you win—which would actually be losing, but never mind—I’ll give you your money back.” Her face held nothing but purposeful honesty. “You can trust me.”

“Okay.” He reached into his wallet, tossed out his rodeo winnings.

She beamed. “Money well spent. Just putting your money where your dreams are is practically a guarantee of good things happening for you!”

His sister went off, delighted that she’d lightened him of all he had on him at the moment. Dante sipped his drink again, catching Ana’s gaze on him before she hurriedly looked at her punch.

Well, it wasn’t the mask, he’d removed that. He hadn’t shaved, but women didn’t usually get real excited over scruffy cheeks, so that probably wasn’t what had her peeking. His hair was far too long—he hadn’t seen a barber in months—and so maybe he did look a bit wild. His nieces and nephews had lavished him with attention, a returning hero in their eyes, so at least he wasn’t completely Grizzly Adams–wild-looking if he didn’t scare small children.

Ana came over and sat next to him, and Dante was so shocked he nearly swallowed the floating olive eyeball in his drink.

“Happy Halloween,” she said, and he felt a tickle of something slide up his spine. Ah, yes, sexual attraction, the bane of his useless designs on Ana.

“Same to you.”

His tongue twisted up like the lemon garnish on her drink.

“Your sister says you’re the resident ghost-story-teller.”

Generous of Ash to throw him an opener for conversation with Ana. “I’m afraid I enjoyed frightening my sister and brothers whether it was Halloween or not.”

She smiled. He was lost in her eyes and that sexy smile. “I love ghost stories.”

He was getting a funny feeling that something was going on here. Ana seemed to be chatting him up—and it could all be just friendly, but then again, maybe—

Nah. She hadn’t spoken to him in anything more than a professional tone for all the months he’d lived at Rancho Diablo. “What’s on your mind, cupcake?”

She looked at him. “Cupcake?”

He had to hide behind alpha-male bravado to save his sanity. His wisdom had been too hard-won over the past several months—and the tearing that Firefreak had given him was a reminder not to make a fool of himself again on useless pining. “I just thought maybe you had something on your mind.”

“I do,” Ana said, and Dante blinked.

“Oh?” If she, too, had a horse charity, his pockets were as empty as old boots.

“I have the evening off,” Ana said, “and I was wondering if you’d like to—”

The doorbell rang, gonging throughout the palatial house. Everyone glanced at Kendall, since it was her family home. “I gave the butler the night off, and he went into town,” Kendall said.

Dante glanced at his sister. Ash’s brows rose. There hadn’t been any trick-or-treaters. No one could get past the gated entrance.

Kendall had a sniper on the roof to keep an eye on Jonas Callahan’s clan, make certain none of the mercenaries got close to any of the children or wives.

The mercs had tried for years to find the Callahan parents, but so far, it was Callahans riding to the buzzer, and the mercenaries—including their black sheep, evil uncle Wolf—unable to get anything going.

Dante got up. “I’ll go to the door.”

Everyone looked at him. Ana got up, too. “I’ll play backup.”

He didn’t need backup from a woman, even if she was a bodyguard with great references from several high-profile clients. His sister was the only woman who’d ever “backed” him up. He glanced at Ashlyn who grinned hugely and had the nerve to wave the stash of loot of which she’d stripped him.

But he couldn’t turn Ana down—it would be rude and decidedly un-Callahan. Dante went off down the long hall to the front door with Ana behind him. When he opened the huge wooden door, he was somehow not at all surprised to find a gun pointed at his face.

“Trick or treat,” the masked cowboy said. “Step outside and close the door.”

Nuts. Dante walked out, prepared to protect Ana at all costs, when she slipped around him and sprayed something in the cowboy’s face. He howled and pawed at his eyes, and Ana took the opportunity to kick his legs out from underneath him and tie his wrists behind his back like a cowgirl tying off a roped calf.

“There,” Ana said, standing up, “he’s all yours.”

The man on the ground cursed, swearing about the burning in his eyes and how much he hated the Callahans in general. Dante grinned at his beautiful “backup” wearing purple scrubs and a sexy smile, his heart thundering like the mystical Diablo mustangs in the Rancho Diablo canyons, and thought, You’re all mine, gorgeous.

You just don’t know it yet.

Chapter Two

Two hours later, the intruder had been trundled off by the local sheriff, and the sniper who’d been on duty was located—shot with a tranquilizer dart.

All the Callahans were grouped into the big white formal room that Kendall had always claimed she hated until the Callahans had taken over her compound. Now toy trucks and baby dolls lay in neat baskets lining a wall, and another basket of crayons and coloring books lay stacked near the ebony grand piano. An overly industrious child—he thought it might have been one of Pete’s triplets—had done a little Picasso-style artwork on the wall near the floorboard, in what looked very much like sky-blue and magenta, two colors he remembered well from his own days of coloring.

“This is bad,” Dante told his cousins, brothers and sister. Jonas nodded, as did the others. No one had told Aunt Fiona or Uncle Burke—yet. They’d have to be informed of this new development. They’d gone to bed after the Halloween festivities, and Dante saw no reason to rouse them when there was nothing they could do now. “What if Aunt Fiona had opened the door?”

Ana met his gaze. He thought he could sense her concern, which matched his.

“Fiona would have opened the door, if she’d been in the family room or kitchen,” Sloan said. “But someone meant business if they took out the sniper and then presented themselves on the front porch as a trick-or-treater.”

Ash shivered. “Lucky for you Ana went to the door with you, Dante.”

Dante frowned. “I can take care of myself, thanks.”

He was a highly trained SEAL. He didn’t need Ana—or anyone else—to take care of him.

Though it had been rather glorious to watch those curves in motion as she’d taken down the thug. Just remembering it brought a smile to his face.

“What’s so funny?” Ash demanded, staring at him. “You could have been killed.”

Dante shook his head. “I’m like a cat, and I’ve only used up about seven of my nine lives. No one’s gonna take me out.”

Ana’s eyes were huge. Okay, so maybe things could have gotten a little dicey if she hadn’t put her training and quick wits to use. “Let’s just focus on the plan going forward. The first thing we need to discuss is security. Obviously, the Phillips’ compound has been breached. We’ve inadvertently brought the fight here.”

They all considered that. “I think it’s pretty safe,” Ash said. “It’s taken them a long time to try an attack here.”

“They’re watching the ranch,” Ana said suddenly. “They knew half of us would be here in Hell’s Colony. Has anybody checked on the guys back at Rancho Diablo?”

Dante looked at Ana, considered her words, felt himself falling just a little bit more for a woman whose mind worked so quickly and looked so stunning doing it. It was as if a Greek warrior goddess had come to life, tempting him to kiss her.

He was going to have to do that real soon. “Ash, send a text to Galen, Falcon and Jace. See if you get a response.”

“On it,” she said, grabbing her phone.

“The sheriff didn’t have any idea who he was,” Ana said, “which means he’s from outside Hell’s Colony. He had no ID on him. That’s deliberate.”

“Yeah,” Dante agreed. “A Halloween ambush. It’s just all too convenient.”

“I think so, too,” Ana said. “There’s no way the man on the porch is the one who shot the sniper with the tranquilizer.”

Dante looked at her. “Why not? I took out plenty of armed—”

Ash cleared her throat. “Oh,” Dante said, “right.” It was a Halloween party, after all, no need to bring up past assignments, especially since the darling nanny bodyguard had defended him. He’d feel deflated about that except Ana was just so darn hot. Maybe he was weird or what his brothers would call judiciously individual, but Ana defending him gave him a superbad case of heat he didn’t think he was going to recover from anytime soon. “Okay, Ana, are you working on a theory?”

She nodded. “I think our Halloween visitor has a companion out there.”

Ash sat up. “Waiting.”

“That’s right.” Ana nodded, and Dante watched her, considering her suddenly very plausible idea. “The guy on the porch was just the sideshow. The distraction.”

Dante’s blood went cold. “Has anybody checked on Fiona and Burke?”

Ash’s eyes went huge, and then she tore up the stairs. Dante could feel his heart beating hard in his chest until his sister returned.

“Out like lights,” Ash reported. “And I don’t think Fiona holds herself and Burke to the one-martini rule.” She sniffed. “There’s a crystal pitcher of bloody rum punch by their bed. And a plate of her delicious gingerbread ghosts, but we won’t hold that against her.”

Ana sat thinking quietly. “What?” Dante demanded. “I can tell you’re working on something.”

“It just doesn’t add up. He barely put up a fight.”

“He didn’t have a chance,” Dante told her. “You were on him too quickly. He didn’t know what hit him.”

“No.” She shook her head. “He didn’t put up much resistance at all.”

“You gave him a faceful of pepper spray,” Ash pointed out. “That might wear down my resistance a bit.”

Ana got up, pacing a bit, which Dante appreciated because he loved watching her move. It was a ballet on cork sandals, body parts moving sexily, gracefully.

“Someone was with him. Someone took out the sniper, then played lookout. We called the sheriff, and two hours later he’s in a cell.” Ana shook her head. “Have you heard back from Rancho Diablo?” she asked Ashlyn.

“All present and accounted for,” Ash said.

“This is all so suspicious,” Ana said, sitting down next to Dante. His blood pressure went to the roof of his skull, drumming loudly. He smelled sweet perfume and warm woman, and it was everything he could do not to reach out and take her hand in his.

She’d be so shocked if he did.

“If we don’t think anyone could have breached the house, then it’s something else,” Ana said.

It suddenly hit Dante that Ana was working from a hunch. As a guy who’d relied upon his hunches at times to stay alive, Dante found himself paying close attention to what Ana was trying to tease through.“What else is likely?” he asked.

She finally glanced at him. “I don’t know.”

He nodded. “We’ll know soon enough.”

“The thing is,” Ana said, staring earnestly into his eyes, “it feels too coincidental. It feels too easy. Career mercenaries don’t make mistakes. That’s why I think it was a cover for something else.”

“Maybe just to keep us on edge?” Ash asked.

“I don’t think so.” Ana shook her head. “I’ll go to bed and think about it. Maybe it will come to me in the night.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Dante stood, began stacking the glasses on a tray. Halloween had come and gone for another year. Thanksgiving would arrive next, always a family gathering of great camaraderie and joy—and then Christmas. But the costumes and carved pumpkins would disappear for another year, which made him a bit nostalgic.

Why pick Halloween for an ambush?

He and Ana carried the small dishes and glasses to the kitchen. “Have you talked to Tighe today?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about his loony brother at this moment. “I haven’t heard much from him. He’s been busy getting brained by bulls.”

She nodded. “Okay. Good night.”

He stared after her as she passed into the hallway. He heard her sandals on the marble floor.

“Drooling is only cute when babies do it,” Ashlyn told him, giving him a nudge. “Need a bib?”

He probably was drooling. Turning back to the dishes, he put them in the dishwasher. “Not sure there’s a bib big enough.”

His sister looked up at him. “You know, you can treat Ana like she’s a normal girl, not some kind of princess you have to put in an ivory tower. I have it on good authority that she doesn’t bite.”

“She might.” Dante didn’t care how much his sister ribbed him about Ana—he might be slow in his windup, but eventually, he’d work his way into the game. “Don’t think it’s escaped my attention that you, little sister, are working on quite the unrequited thing for one of the owners of this compound, and everybody’s favorite canyon-riding cowboy, Xav Phillips.”

Ash glared at him. “Am I supposed to say ouch?” She tossed her head. “At least I would kiss Xav if he got close enough. Ana saved you. The least you can do is put down the barbed wire fence.”

He grunted, wondered about Tighe. Why had Ana asked about his twin?

“The kids love her,” Ash said, washing out some glasses. “I bet Ana will make a wonderful mother.”

He blinked. “Is she going to be a mother?”

“Maybe.”

Ash didn’t clarify, and he wasn’t about to give her anything else to rib him about by asking. He had to go with the flow around here, especially where Ana was concerned, or he’d end up a laughingstock.

Ash sighed. “Did you at least thank her for saving you?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll thank her for saving my big brother,” Ash said. “I appreciate what she did. If people aren’t acknowledged when they do a good job, sometimes they find another employer.”

He got the hint and decided not to encourage his sister. “I’ll let you finish up here.”

His sister snapped his butt with a dish towel as he departed. “Good night, dear brother.”

He went out to the guest quarters, which consisted of three bedrooms and a small kitchenette. This is where he was bunking—and tonight, the sniper was also taking up one of the rooms, sleeping off the effects of the tranquilizer, which the doctor said wouldn’t last forever. They hadn’t gotten much out of the man because he mostly wanted to snooze, but one thing was clear: he didn’t want to go to a hospital. Said he’d be fine sleeping outside. They’d stuck him out here with Dante, who was fine with checking on him occasionally.

Thing was, without the sniper on the roof of the compound, they were pretty much without cover. Someone had known the sniper was there—and had taken him out with enough tranquilizer to give an elephant a bit of a Rip van Winkler. Dante went into his room, his thoughts in a snarl, trying to make sense of the whole thing—but his brain stopped cold when he flipped on the light and saw the gorgeous blonde in his bed. Sound asleep, looking like an angel.

Holy smokes, what was he supposed to do with this?

He turned the overhead light off. Pondered his next move. Clearly Ana hadn’t wanted to sleep in the main house. Did she have the night off? He supposed she must have. After one black martini with a floating eyeball in it, was he relaxed enough to take advantage of the heavenly gift in his bed?

Absolutely not.

Dante felt like he was sneaking around in his own room. Maybe she’d been scared, and didn’t want to be alone.

Nah. Ana hadn’t been the least bit intimidated.

Maybe he should just turn around, walk back through the door, forget what he’d seen. Pretend he’d felt better sleeping in the main house tonight—

The lamp beside the bed turned on, and Dante’s throat went dry as an old bone in the desert. Ana looked at him, her gaze curious.

“Hi, cowboy.”

Long blond hair draped silkily over one shoulder. She hadn’t changed out of her purple scrubs, but the cork sandals lay on the floor beside her.

Okay, gifts this good didn’t just drop into his life. There was a trap, he just couldn’t see it. His concentration was shot, and any warning system he’d ever possessed that normally blared caution in a danger zone had surrendered. “Howdy, nurse,” he finally said, trying to play it cool. “I do believe you’re in the wrong bed.”

“Maybe,” Ana said. “But I hope not.”

He couldn’t mistake the soft invitation, nor the smoke in those emerald eyes. The lady was offering, and all he had to do was get rid of the barbed wire fence Ash claimed he was hiding behind. “All right,” he said, his voice husky, his throat a bit stiff for some reason. “You tell me what you want, lady, and I’ll see if I can accommodate you.”

Safe enough. Let her state her mission—maybe she was only scared, after all—and he’d see if he could help her out.

She turned out the lamp. He heard sheets rustle, and the next thing he knew she was moving into his arms. Her lips found his, and it was everything Dante had ever imagined kissing Ana would be like: soft, sweet, powerful.

He didn’t ask any questions. He hung on like he’d hung on to Firefreak, praying he didn’t hit the ground too soon.

“I’m going to get a little more comfortable,” she said, moving out of his arms, “maybe you will, too.”

She went into the bathroom, closed the door behind her. His heart thundered like mad, a haze practically shutting down his brain. After all the months of longing, he was going to find himself holding the most beautiful woman in the world.

He pulled off his boots, kept his jeans and shirt on just in case the invitation got jerked away from him at the last minute. Waited in the dark, his body taut with anticipation.

The bathroom door opened, and he heard soft footsteps approach the bed. It was too dark for him to get the full effect, but maybe she was shy about him seeing her in the dark. Wouldn’t matter. He’d run his lips over every inch of that long, slinky body, and he’d have no problem whatsoever seeing everything he wanted to with his hands.

Something soft brushed his face, molded over his nose and mouth with a strange scent—but by then it was too late for Dante to react, even as his last thought was that the world’s most beautiful angel had just played him like the queen of hearts.

Chapter Three

Bumps and jolts jarred Dante painfully awake. Opening his eyes, he stared at a dark sky overhead, felt the cold of a truck bed beneath him as it trundled over ruts on what was obviously a country road. His hands and ankles seemed bound together—make that were bound. His boots lay near his head, confirming that he’d been hijacked.

Last night’s sudden and sweet seduction had been nothing but a sham. Ana St. John was a spy, a double-crosser in the first degree. He could see it all clearly now: she’d been working with whoever had taken out the sniper, and she’d followed Dante to the front door to pretend to save him Halloween night, throwing off suspicion.

All the while she’d been planning his downfall with a body made to stun. Like Samson cut down by Delilah, Dante had allowed Ana to blind him to common sense.

Love did indeed stink to high heaven.

A particularly vicious rut sent him bouncing skyward, and something moaned—not him. Glancing across the truck bed, he saw Ana in pretty much the same condition as he, only she had on less clothes to keep out the November chill. She, too, was bound, still wearing her scrubs, though the cork sandals didn’t appear to have made the trip.

Dante was cheered by her presence, but he also felt like a louse. Being happy when one’s object of desire was trussed up like a chicken, obviously being kidnapped along with him, was the mark of a truly pathetically gone heart.

He was so relieved Ana hadn’t played him. He would have felt like a bigger putz than all his brothers combined.

Ana opened her eyes, glanced around in rather shocked fashion, as he had, then saw him smiling at her. “Fancy meeting you here, cupcake.”

She blinked, looked annoyed. “This was not supposed to happen!”

“Yeah, well. Just an adventure to tell the grandkids, I guess.” He kept his tone soothing and light so she wouldn’t panic. Females were so delicate, and it was his job to comfort the gentler species, especially this darling one. He frowned. “Wait, what wasn’t supposed to happen?”

“I’ve never been jumped.” Ana glanced around the truck bed. “No one has ever been able to catch me off guard, and that’s a record I was extremely proud of. Who took us?”

“We’ll know soon enough.”

“Where are we?”

“My guess? Far from home. The air’s got a trace of petroleum. Definitely a chemical. I’m guessing somewhere around Houston.”

“Or Louisiana.”

It would stand to reason. They’d clearly been on the road a long time because his body was screaming from all the jags and bumps. He needed to hit a rest stop in the worst way. “They must have grabbed you in the lavatory, because I never saw you come out. And I would definitely have remembered.”

“First bad mark on my record.” Pure annoyance crossed her face. “I didn’t check the bath when I snuck in, and I should have.”

“Rule number one in the bodyguard manual broken,” he said cheerfully. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” He didn’t care, because she freely admitted sneaking into his room, and from that, he could deduce that this beautiful woman dug her some Callahan cowboy.

“I failed to protect you,” Ana said.

“Oh, I won’t hold it against you,” Dante said, thinking he was fine with role reversal. He was the man, he was supposed to be doing the protecting, and moreover, they’d only grabbed her because of him—she was a collateral situation. None of this would be happening right now if he weren’t a Callahan, which left very little blame to be parked at her door. “Anyway, I’m the man, I’m supposed to protect the fairer sex.”

“Are we going to debate sexual roles or figure out how to get out of this mess?”

He liked the idea of debating sexual anything with Ana, but he supposed her question was relevant. But then he had a horrible thought: his grandfather, Chief Running Bear, had muttered something about one of the seven Chacon Callahans being the hunted one. Running Bear had intoned the warning with such fierce knowledge, and Dante had always figured it couldn’t possibly be him.

But what if he was the one of which Running Bear warned? Any last vestige of grogginess from whatever they’d used to dope him disappeared, and his focus returned, laserlike.

“What?” Ana said. “You look like you want to kill something.”

He wasn’t going to worry about it now. If he was the hunted one, he’d get unhunted fast. Darkness had fallen, blanketing the truck’s path. His body felt like a yo-yo from the pounding bumps in the road, and Ana couldn’t be in any better shape. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Following you, cowboy.”

She was a sparky little thing, he’d grant her that. “For what it’s worth, I appreciated finding you in my bed. Hope you don’t let this experience scare you from trying again.”

Ana gave him a wry look. “Not at all,” she said sweetly. “I’ve picked you to be the father of my child.”

A hard jolt sent them both rolling, and covered the yelp Dante might have let go upon hearing Ana’s pronouncement. “You meant it wasn’t just about my body?”

“No.” Ana rolled close to him, which he thought was very sweet of her, very sexy. He liked women who were so pointed about their desire. “Undo my hands, please,” Ana told him.

“Ah.” Romance would have to wait; this little doll was all about business. He backed up to her, grabbed her bound hand with his and worked off the knotted handkerchief. “Free as a bird.”

Without creating any movement that would alert their kidnappers, she untied her feet. “Blast, they didn’t bring my shoes. That’s men for you. They never consider the important stuff.”

“They brought my boots,” Dante said, a bit relieved by that. He could carry Ana on his back if he had to.

“I may borrow those boots, cowboy.”

He looked at her. “Oh, no, you don’t, cupcake. If you think for one second that you’re going to take my boots and leave me stranded here with a couple of jokers, you will never get what you came for last night.”

She reached for a boot, looked him in the eye. “You may not be able to give me a child. It’s a calculated risk.”

There was absolutely nothing he’d rather do than give impregnating this sweet angel the old college try. “I offer my family tree as Exhibit A. You’re the nanny, you should know that Callahans are prodigious baby makers.”

She considered that. “True. Yet I find it highly suspicious that you’re not running. Men are supposed to run when a woman tells them they want a child.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a normal guy.”

“This, I’ve heard.”

She undid his hands, which he’d expected, since it was obvious she did indeed want to test his pregnancy prowess. He smirked, trying to look like a man who had full confidence that a baby bingo was as easy as snapping the fingers. “What’s the big hurry on getting pregnant? You have a biological clock going off?”

Ana barely gave him a glance. “You focus on the mission, which is saving us. Let me worry about my reasons.” She hesitated. “How do I know you’ll keep your promise?”

He kissed her briefly, just a soft brush of promised pleasure against her lips. “Because, beautiful, I guarantee satisfaction.”

She finished undoing him and his hands came free. He grabbed her, pulling her lips to his, cradling her head in his hands so that he could kiss her as thoroughly as he’d ever wanted to. “Consider that a down payment.”

“I do. I promise to make your life miserable if you try to back out of our deal. Remember, I could have taken your boots and left you here.”

“I’d hate for you to live with those regrets. One day you’ll thank your lucky stars I kept you, despite the fact that you’ll be a drag on the mission.” He pulled on his boots, watching her. She was a spicy girl for sure, and one day, he was going to dive in and enjoy the fire. “Now hang on, this is where it gets rough, gorgeous.”

He wrapped his arms around her, held her tight.

“What are you doing?”

“Watch and learn. Focus,” he whispered in her ear. “The truck has slowed. We’re no longer on the main road, we’re obviously getting closer to the destination. They’ve slowed, looking for a meeting point. The road isn’t hard and rocky anymore, feels more like sand. Perfect.”

“Perfect for what?”

“Finding out what little girls are made of. I always heard it was sugar and spice, but let’s hope you’re more spice than sugar.”

He flipped her over the edge of the truck, still holding her tight. They landed with a thud in a not-so-soft patch of dried sand liberally laced with grit. To Ana’s credit she didn’t make a peep, and Dante held his breath, praying that the truck kept on its slow way to its destination.

It did. “Let’s go. We have about five minutes, maybe less, before they discover we flew the coop.”

“Head away from the road,” Ana said, and Dante thought, Yeah, I had a feeling she was spice, and they ran until they crossed a smaller road that was more of a dirt-bike path.

They stopped, and Dante plotted his bearings. “Due north,” he said, pointing. “Heading to the west gets us back home.”

“How do you know they didn’t take us west?”

“I was watching the sky. The North star always guides us.”

“I must have missed that lesson.” Ana took off her shirt, tore it in half, bound up her feet for protection. “What are you staring at? It’s a sports bra.”

He was staring because being this close to heaven might just kill him. Sports bra or not, she was a tantalizing twist and slope of delicate curves and just-right softness. Tiny little waist. Athletic body. He swallowed, tore his eyes away with effort. A huge effort.

Dante cleared his throat even though it felt as if it was suddenly made of industrial rubber. “You ran pretty dang fast for a girl who was barefoot. I’m sorry.” There’d probably been burrs or sticker grass in the sand loam road.

“Sorry for what?” Ana glared at him. “I can take care of myself. I can take care of you, too.”

He smiled. “You are the most precious little thing I’ve ever come across.”

“And you may be the biggest donkey I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Her glare deepened. “Has it ever occurred to you that not every female is just waiting for you to bring your big muscles and your annoying chauvinism to rescue her?”

A grin split his face. “You like my big muscles?”

“Yes, I do. Can we discuss your manliness another time?”

“It’s never a bad time to discuss that,” Dante said, and they began walking toward the west, staying well out of sight of the main road. “Because I was thinking,” Dante said, “if you like the muscles you can see, I’ve got some others that may—”

“Save it for later,” Ana said. “I don’t want you to blow a fuse.”

“Pretty sure my fuses are fine.” He was enormously pleased with the turn of events. Ana was awesome, just like he’d always suspected, and the best part was that the woman of his dreams wanted to have his baby.

It couldn’t be denied that he was catnip to the sweet thing. “I’m going to take good care of you, Ana.”

“Keep talking, and you’ll probably find yourself in trouble,” she said sweetly, and he said, “I like trouble. Trouble is a good friend of mine,” before taking her hand in his as they hurried to make their escape.

* * *

THEY FOUND A SMALL, run-down motel in a one-horse town that didn’t look as if it ever had much traffic. They were still in Texas, but hundreds of miles east of Hell’s Colony. The owner was friendly and offered them breakfast in the morning if they were willing to get up early. “I like to start my knitting at eight, and once I start, I don’t like to stop,” she said with a genuinely friendly smile. “If I’m on my quilting, I definitely don’t quit.”

Ana looked at Dante, figuring he’d go for the breakfast over sleep. He shrugged at her, so she said, “I think we’ll be gone by eight, Mrs. Adams. But thank you.”

“I’ll put together a couple of sack breakfasts, then.” She waved them to a room upstairs and told them to sleep comfortably and not to mind any rattling they might hear. “It’s just the air conditioner,” she said helpfully, and Ana closed their bedroom door with a little relief.

“I thought she was going to say she had a ghost,” Ana said. “These small towns always have a ghost, don’t they?”

She pulled off the new moccasins Dante had bought her in a small outpost trading store. They were soft and comfortable, but they weren’t as cute as her cork sandals.

“What have you got against ghosts?” Dante asked, lounging on the bed, hands behind his head. “Rancho Diablo’s got ghosts.”

“So I hear.” She didn’t believe it. Every once in a while Fiona got wound up about the ghosts and spirits that hung around the ranch, and Ana just listened to the tales, not about to give credence to one thing Fiona said. “I’m going to shower.”

“Ladies first.” He grinned, a sexy devil, and Ana wondered why he didn’t seem more concerned about the fact that she had her eyes on him for a baby.

“While I’m in here, you can ask that nice Mrs. Adams if you could use the phone,” she suggested.

“For what?”

“To call home, E.T.” She sighed. “Dante, we don’t want to walk all the way back to Hell’s Colony.”

“Oh. That.” He shrugged. “I’ve got my mobile in my pocket.”

She blinked. “Is there a reason we’ve been walking for miles and you haven’t called for a pickup?”

“I like your company, sugar.”

He was so aggravating that Ana wondered for a split second if she’d chosen the right man to give her a child.

Lord, yes. She had no second thoughts about that. She’d waited over a year to cross her professional boundaries and finally succumb to the die-hard attraction she had for this man. “I like yours, too, Dante,” she said, trying to hang on to her temper. “But I think we’d like each other’s company so much better if we weren’t running from goons.”

“Safer this way.” He shrugged. “We’ll wait another day before we call. I’ve got my mobile when we’re ready, got my wallet, got you, doll.” He grinned. “What else does a man need?”

“Okay.” She went into the bathroom, turned on the shower. Callahans were known to be wired differently, so she couldn’t say she was surprised that he’d choose walking across the state of Texas in dirty clothes preferable to calling for family pickup. She opened the door again. “Do you think you ought to let your family know we’re fine?”

“They know. I texted them immediately once you untied my hands.” He grinned, the biggest rascal on the planet. “You didn’t notice because you were trying to protect me from our kidnappers as we walked. I just let you think you were doing all the work, angel.”

She closed the bathroom door with a bit of force. “The apple didn’t fall far from his brother apples,” she muttered, stripping down.

A knock on the door made her jerk a towel to cover herself. “Yes?”

“Just wondering if I should scope out the bathroom for you this time.”

She glanced around the tiny bath. “Think I’ve got it under control.”

“Good to hear. If you don’t mind, if you won’t be nervous being left, I think I’m going to go scare us up some food.”

Why had he mentioned her being afraid? She was a bodyguard, her job was to protect, and technically, she was protecting Callahans, under which labeling he could be claimed. But he seemed to think she was just a girl, an ornament, and probably figured her main worth was cooking and cleaning.

He’d be really surprised when he learned that she couldn’t cook and didn’t clean a bit. She was a girl who worked, and she hadn’t gone to bodyguard training to jump when a big lug like him snapped his chauvinistic fingers at her.

“I’m fine,” she said, somewhat curious that he hadn’t bothered to slip into the shower with her with some dumb excuse about conserving water for the diligent, quilting Mrs. Adams.

“Be right back.”

There was silence after that. Ana enjoyed a long hot shower, and even considered taking a bath and soaking her feet. After several hours of walking, through some terrain one couldn’t exactly call smooth because Dante was determined that they stay hidden from main roads where they might be seen—her feet weren’t exactly thrilled with the treatment they’d endured.

They’d be home soon enough. She’d go for a manicure and pedicure with River, indulge in some girly maintenance, the kind meant to lure her cowboy into bed since he didn’t seem all that inclined to get there real fast on his own.

Maybe he was more worried about the baby-making scheme than he’d let on.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Ana?”

“Yes?” She hesitated, wondering if he wanted—finally!—in the shower with her.

“Just letting you know I’m back.”

Ana thought about proffering a sexy invitation, decided if he was interested he would have figured out a way to share the shower with her. “Thanks.”

He opened the door a sliver. Laid something on the counter. She peeked around the cloth shower curtain at the pile of clothes he’d placed there. “What’s that?”

“A dress Mrs. Adams thinks will fit you, and some girl stuff she’d just picked up for her daughter. She says the dress is her daughter’s, and should be a close fit. If you hurry and send her your clothes, she’ll wash them for you. For us,” he amended. “She seemed concerned that we’d been walking and didn’t have what she called the basics of life.”

He was thinking of basics and she was thinking about his body. “Thank you, Dante.”

“No problem. Mrs. Adams is really nice. She sent us a tray of salad and cold chicken. You hungry?”

For him, yes. “I could stand to eat.” She shut off the water, got out, toweled off. Glancing over the clothes, she wasn’t crazy about the idea of a dress, but she held it up to her. Actually, the dress wasn’t bad. It was a soft cotton with short sleeves, not stylish, but a cute turquoise blue. Comfy for traveling. Wouldn’t look entirely horrible with the moccasins Dante had bought her. “Mrs. Adams’s daughter must be young?”

“About your age,” Dante said cheerfully. “Mrs. Adams said that if you ever decide to kick me to the curb, I’m to come back and let her introduce me to her daughter, Suz. Apparently, Suz is a helluva cook.”

“That’s just nice,” Ana muttered, slipping on the dress. She rinsed out her under things and laid them out to dry. “I’m taking a shower thinking about you, you ape, and you’re out trolling for girls.”

“Did you say something, cupcake?” he asked through the door.

“No, stud muffin,” she replied, ever so sweetly.

He cracked open the door, looked in at her with a big grin. “I thought I heard you say something about a stud muffin. I think that’s girl talk for hot, sexy guy, and the only one of those around is me.”

“Really.” She had no idea how to puncture his oversized ego. “Zip me, please?”

“Glad to help.” He reached to zip the dress, came to a complete halt.

“Something wrong?” she asked, her voice concerned and innocent—but since her panties were drying on the counter and the zipper just crested the top of her bare fanny, she had a pretty good idea what had him stuck.

“Uh...no. Nothing at all.”

She watched him surreptitiously in the bathroom mirror. He swallowed, then suddenly reached out, zipped her up fast. Jumped out of the bathroom as though he was attached to a rocket. Clapped his Stetson on his head.

“You ready to eat?” Dante asked.

“Sure am,” she said cheerily, knowing he’d have to try to eat dinner with her wearing nothing under a soft, pretty dress. She smiled, and he looked cornered, and Ana almost took pity on him.

But, no. If he wanted to play reluctant prince, she could play unattainable princess. Naked-under-this-blue-dress princess. She walked past him, enjoyed his hangdog face of absolute suffering. “Are you all right, Dante?”

“I’m fine. Thanks. At least I think so.”

He looked stricken. Cast a fast glance over her body, tried to act as if he wasn’t thinking about what he’d just seen. Ana held her breath, enjoying ruffling that famous Callahan ego just a bit.

Maybe tonight this cowboy would overcome his resistance and fall into her arms.

Chapter Four

Ana was going to kill him. Plain and simple, and hardly lifting a finger to do it, Ana St. John was going to give Dante cardiac arrest at the ripe old age of nearly twenty-eight.

Either she was deliberately trying to seduce him, or he just couldn’t think about anything but sex around her. Yet it wasn’t just sex, though he wished it was. He was crazy about this woman, had been for months.

She talked about wanting his child, but he knew she just had baby overload. Ana had spent too much time around Sloan and Kendall’s adorable twins, and naturally—quite naturally, in his opinion—she had decided that a baby was what she wanted, too. A child of her own.

The thing was, she’d settled on him—and granted, he was stocked full of testosterone-charged, baby-making potential—but he really wasn’t in a position to simply scatter his seed to the wind and then have his little baby mama disappear.

No. He needed some commitment, a relationship, yes, a marriage, before any of his swimmers could be set free to do their wondrous thing. Yet he was not a marrying man...at least, he’d never thought much about it. Hadn’t thought about it at all. Ever. Dante sat in the back of Ash’s truck, and Ana sat up front, chatting away with his sister, who’d come to their rescue after he’d finally surrendered and realized he had to call for backup.

He’d had no other option, though he believed it would be safer for his family if he and Ana stayed undercover for a while longer. But he could not spend a night in a bed with Ana and not fall into hot, sweet temptation. He was only so much man where she was concerned, and he had to draw a line between him and her that he wouldn’t cross.

“Don’t you think, Dante?”

His sister’s voice jerked him from studying the slope of Ana’s shoulder as she sat in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of his heated admiration of her. Ashlyn’s gaze settled on his in the rearview mirror, and he was pretty certain his sister was laughing at him.

“Think what?” he demanded a bit crossly.

“Think that this is all related. Those troublemakers that grabbed you guys are the same ones who did this before. It has to be linked.”

He nodded. “Stands to reason.”

“Then we go find your uncle Wolf and tell him that enough is enough,” Ana said. “No doubt Dante will enjoy beating him to a pulp.”

“Uh—” Dante blinked, considered how macho he needed to appear. “We actually don’t believe in beating our uncle to a pulp. Well, actually, we might, but Running Bear says no.”

“Oh. So you’re using your wits instead of weapons. I admire that.” Ana turned around to look at him, and he felt himself appreciating for the thousandth time her sexy green eyes. Kind of an emerald tone, a bright forest green overlaid with honey, and he—

“Dante,” Ashlyn said, interrupting his heated thoughts, and Ana turned back around. “When’s the last time you heard from Tighe?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t figure he’d thought much about his twin since he’d been in Ana’s radius. “We’re not joined at the hip.”

“That’s news to me,” Ash said.

“Old news,” Dante said. “Tighe’s like a cat. He’ll come home when he’s ready.”

“But it’s not like him not to check in,” Ashlyn pressed, and Dante finally caught his sister’s underlying message.

“You think something’s happened to him?”

“We don’t know what to think. Tighe can be hardheaded, and with you not traveling with him to be the communicator—”

He scowled at his sister’s reflection. “Tighe has a mouth that works perfectly fine. I wasn’t always the communicator.”

“Yes, you were,” Ashlyn insisted. “It was always you who kept in touch with the family. We always called Tighe The Silent One. In fact, Galen calls him Silent-but-deadly, and he swears it’s because of his work in the military, but it’s still rude and I let him know it.”

Dante could hear Ana giggling in the front seat. “So was I Not-silent-and-not-deadly?”

“We just called you Oprah,” Ash said cheerfully. “We could always count on you to have something to talk about.”

Well, wasn’t it just nice for his sister to air all his dirty laundry in front of the woman he was dying to impress? The woman who now knew that not only was he not a fighter, a tough guy, but he was considered a hen by his family? “Thanks, I think,” he said, and Ana and Ash dissolved in giggles.

He wondered if Ana would rescind her offer to have his child now that his sister had so nicely illustrated the family’s views of him. Jace had certainly thrown himself at the nanny bodyguards, but they’d seemed to treat him as everybody’s favorite beta-male brother, fun and nonthreatening. “Yes, I’m going to share my new recipe for blackberry pie and drop-stitch knitting tips I got from Mrs. Adams with Aunt Fiona as soon as I get home.”

“Oh, don’t get your feelings hurt, brother. We love you, you know,” Ash said.

“I’m fine. I really got a recipe from Mrs. Adams, and she shared some knitting tips.” He smiled, not caring if he did sound too sweet to be a retired SEAL.

Ana turned to look at him. “Her blackberry pie was excellent.”

He nodded. “It sure was.”

“How did you get clothes for me, and a great recipe and knitting tips out of her?” Ana asked, and he shrugged.

“Dante’s a chatterer,” Ash chimed in. “He can talk the ears off a rabbit.”

“I told you,” he said, ignoring his sister. “She liked me. I think she really wants me to come back and check out her daughter.”

The smile slipped off Ana’s face. “I thought you were just bragging.”

“No.” He shook his head. “She’s a really nice lady, too. I like older ladies. She reminded me of Aunt Fiona. You can learn a lot from sitting around listening to folks who have more than six decades on them.”

“You certainly seemed to learn a lot about her daughter,” Ana said.

“Not too much. She’s twenty-seven, can cook like a dream, has a goddess body, and Mrs. Adams swears she’s not exaggerating, and won a pageant of some kind. I can’t remember which one,” he said, thinking hard. Pageants weren’t something he’d had a whole lot of familiarity with. Ash wasn’t the type who’d ever enter a pageant. She probably wouldn’t score very well—too ornery.

“Mrs. Adams was fishing for you to ask out her daughter while you were with me?” Ana demanded.

He shrugged. “I told her you were my sister.”

Ashlyn laughed out loud.

Ana frowned. “I thought she said that you were to come back and meet her daughter if I ever kicked you to the curb.”

“She didn’t really say that. I was just trying to get your goat.”

“You’re getting my goat now,” Ana said, and he could hear Ashlyn snickering.

There. That was better. The spotlight was off him. He liked it better when his little doll was worried about him going off with a pageant winner with a mother who made melt-in-your-mouth blackberry pie. “It probably is time to hunt up Uncle Wolf and explain to him that we don’t want to hear a peep out of him over the holidays,” he told Ashlyn. “Or we’ll bury him in a canyon with only a cactus to mark the spot.”

“I thought you were a pacifist,” Ana said, and Ashlyn shook her head.

“Be careful, Ana,” Ashlyn told her, “my brother is a spirit that moves on emotion.”

“That’s right,” Dante said. “How far are we from Hell’s Colony, Ash?”

“About thirty minutes. Why?”

“Because we’re being followed. Don’t turn around. Don’t speed up.”

“How do you know?” Ana asked.

“I can see the truck we were tossed in. Look in your side mirror, Ana.”

“He’s right, isn’t he?” Ashlyn said. “He’s always right. It’s like he has a freaky sixth and seventh sense combined.”

“He is right,” Ana confirmed. “I hadn’t noticed.” She sounded depressed about her lax bodyguard skills.

“What’s the plan, brother?” Ash asked.

“You’re going to bypass the road to Hell’s Colony. We’ll head toward Rancho Diablo instead. How much gas do we have?”

“Half a tank.”

“Should be good enough to get us to the border.” He reached up to rub Ana’s shoulders. “Didn’t I say I’d take care of you?”

“Yes,” Ana said, “but I should have seen it first.”

He grinned. “You girls were too busy chatting to be looking out for such things as rogues and rascals.”

“Here it comes,” Ash said, “the crowing of the man who wants applause.”

Dante leaned back, completely satisfied that he was the hero once again, and not the hen. Well, sometimes the hen, but mostly the hero. “They’re following us,” he said, “because I left them a note with Mrs. Adams. I had a feeling they’d show up there.”

“What are you talking about?” Ana demanded, turning to stare at him, outrage lighting up those fascinating peepers he loved to admire. “Why would you do that?”

“I like to keep my enemy close,” Dante said. “Makes every day a bit more exciting.”

Ana looked at Ash. “Has he always been insane?”

“Yes,” Ash said, “certifiably. I did try to warn you. Now my brother Jace is more of a Steady-Eddy. If that appeals to you.”

He grinned at Ana. “In the grand scheme of things, you’d probably prefer excitement to predictable, beautiful.”

Ana looked so annoyed he couldn’t help laughing. He was so tempted to lean up and give her a hot kiss right on those heart-shaped lips, but the window shattered behind his head, and Dante yelled, “Down!”

“I don’t need this much excitement,” Ana said from the floorboard, checking the firearm Ash shoved at her from the glove box.

Dante slapped a clip into the gun he grabbed. “I read that women get pregnant more easily when they’ve been under stress.”

“Who told that lie?” Ash demanded, jacking the truck up to about eighty miles an hour. “And who’s getting pregnant?”

“No one,” Ana said. “I had a momentary lapse in judgment.” She glared at Dante before she fired a shot out the back window. A tire blew on the truck, and it veered off the road. A few bullets sprayed after them, but they were too far away for anything to hit.

“Nice,” Dante said. “I like a woman who can shoot straight.”

Ana looked at him, locked the gun and stored it away again. “Well, I prefer a man who isn’t crazy.”

“Ah, an impasse,” Ashlyn said. “I’m so glad love hasn’t come my way yet.”

“No, you’re not,” Dante said, and Ana said, “Who said anything about love?”

He grinned at her. “You know you want me. And I want you. We don’t have to bring up love just yet.”

“It won’t matter.” Ana turned back around. “You’re free to stay in the wild.”

She was miffed. He smiled. That was all right. She’d only stay miffed until he kissed her, and then his little baby-seeking darling would be only too happy to let him charm his way into her bed.

Guaranteed.

* * *

DANTE WAS CRAZY. Ashlyn had tried to warn her in the beginning, but blinded by—well, lust didn’t sound quite appropriate but definitely desire—what a sexy devil he was, and her hope to have a baby, she’d ignored his sister’s warnings.

Now that she’d learned just how wild ’n’ woolly Dante was, she realized the error of her ways. Such genes could only lead to her having a wild child of her own, and nothing good could come of that.

She went to the kitchen at Rancho Diablo and found Fiona frowning at a cookbook. Fiona looked up with a smile when she saw Ana.

“Just the person I wanted to see,” Fiona said pleasantly, snapping the cookbook closed. “And right in time to give me a break from trying to raise a Yorkshire pudding.”

“Raise a Yorkshire pudding?” Ana glanced over the assembled pots and pans Fiona had scattered around her kitchen. “I don’t know what that is.”

“I’m determined to have Yorkshire pudding for Thanksgiving. A roast with carrots and potatoes on the side, and an onion,” Fiona said, hustling her up the stairs. “But it takes the right touch to raise a pudding properly, and my concentration is shot these days. This will help.” She smiled as Ana followed her to a closet in the attic. The attic was a huge room, more of a well-loved storage area and extra living space if needed. There were shelves on practically every wall. Plump cushions sat on window seats. “Now,” Fiona said, sitting down, “what’s this I hear about you setting your cap for my nephew?”

Fiona tapped a velvet-cushioned seat and Ana reluctantly joined her. “I set my cap, but now it’s unset. So there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, now.” Fiona gave her a knowing smile. “A girl doesn’t unset her cap that quickly. Does she?”

“She does if the man in question is too much of a—”

Fiona smiled. “Gentleman?”

How could she tell this kindly soul that her nephew was a devil with an incurable wild streak? “I was thinking perhaps of a different word.”

“I know.” Fiona nodded. “A sweetheart. You feel like you’re taking advantage of him.” She patted her hand. “Dante is such a good boy. He’d make a fine husband, Ana. Don’t feel bad about setting the female trap to catch him. Men really love to be caught, even though they claim they don’t.”

“Oh, dear.” Ana hardly knew what to say. How to explain that since she’d been back to Rancho Diablo—they’d arrived late last night, and Dante had told his brothers of their highway adventure with no great sense of shame for luring their kidnappers right back to them, a story his brothers had enjoyed with great back-thumping and cocky admiration—she realized she’d made a mistake? “Here’s the thing, Fiona. Dante’s just not my type.”

“Not your type?” Fiona looked stunned. “But River says he’s been your type for over a year!”

Ana felt a little blush warm her face for the fib. She wasn’t about to say that had been all sexual attraction. “Two days in a truck with him changed my mind.”

Fiona sniffed. “Ana, don’t be scared of how much you care for my nephew. I know you’re trying to protect yourself, but he really does have a heart of gold.”

And the soul of a wild man. “I’m not looking for a husband. I just wanted a child of my own.”

Silence stretched between them for a second. “Dante will never settle for less than marriage, I feel certain, if a child is involved.”

“That’s completely understandable.” Secretly, she wouldn’t mind a wedding ring from that hunk. Yet with his reputation for staying wild and free, she wasn’t allotting any dreams for marriage.

“So, it’s not that my boy is too much of a rascal for you, it’s that you’re too gidgety for him. That’s a first, I must say.” Fiona rose, paced around the attic for a moment, then stopped and peered at Ana. “You don’t seem like a gidget to me.”

“I don’t know what a gidget is,” Ana said.

“A flighty girl. One who blows around at every wind.” Fiona sighed. “There’s only one way to know if Dante’s the man of your heart or not.”

“He’s not,” Ana assured her. “I mean, I’m not the right woman for him.”

“Pooh. You’d hate to throw away your soul mate just because you’ve got cold feet.” She smiled, her face gentle yet determined. “Now let’s just pop you into this dress and see what happens.” She opened a massive door, in which hung all kinds of plastic-wrapped clothes, and pulled out a white wedding gown.

Ana had heard all about the magic wedding dress. There was no way on the planet she was putting that thing on. She didn’t believe in charms or superstitions, but Callahan legend was thick around this place. “I better not, Fiona. I’m not looking for a husband.”

“Nonsense! Every woman wants a husband.” Fiona looked as if Ana had sprouted an extra head. “And especially a handsome devil like my nephew.”

“I don’t think—” Ana began, as Fiona dragged the gown from its sparkling wrapping. “I mean—”

“Now, then,” Fiona said, hanging the dress in front of a cheval mirror. “You go right ahead. Take your time.” She smiled. “I’m going to get back to my Yorkshire pudding.”

“But what am I supposed to do?” Ana was a bit cowed by the gown. No way was she putting it on—what if it was magic? What if she saw herself in it and decided she wanted to become a bride? Get married?

No. It was all about the baby. When a woman only had one ovary, she didn’t have the luxury of wasting her chances on marriage first, then wishing for a pregnancy. “I don’t think I—”

“That’s just the thing,” Fiona said. “You won’t have to think. Once you put it on, you’ll know for certain.”

“Know what for certain?”

“Who your dream man is.” Fiona smiled at her, a benign and yet somehow cagey fairy godmother with a lacy lure. “Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

“I suppose—”

“You wouldn’t risk throwing Dante back into the dating pool if he was your prince. Of course, you’ll be terribly disappointed if he isn’t your prince, I know,” Fiona said, her tone sympathetic and sorrowful for Ana’s pain in that circumstance, “but at least you’d know, right?”

Ana glanced at the gown, worried. It was a beautiful thing, and the Callahan brides she’d seen wear it had been stunning. Of course it was all Fiona’s storytelling, there was no such thing as magic. Just Fiona trying to up her matchmaking score by one more victim.

“In the Irish we say, an t-adh leat. Good luck, dear. And don’t forget the reason the gown is magic—you will see the face of the man you love, the prince who’s the true destiny of your heart. Or at least that’s what the Callahan girls have all said, each and every one.”

Humming, Fiona went down the stairs. Ana closed her eyes for a moment, debating. It was so silly. The game was to get her in the gown—and probably any wedding dress would do—so she’d start frothing at the mouth to rush to the altar. “I won’t fall for it. I can put that on and feel nothing. It’s just yards and yards of beautiful white lace and whatever else wedding gown dreams are spun from. No different from a bedsheet or...or a tablecloth. Just white fabric.”

She’d been in love with Dante for a long time, though she barely admitted it to herself. She was just careful, that was all, and a careful woman made certain that she chose the right man to father her child.

She could afford no mistakes. Natural caution was what made her an excellent bodyguard. There was still time to back away from the situation if Dante wasn’t the man who could make her dreams come true. “In love” wasn’t final, it wasn’t endless—not yet, not while she could still hold back from falling all the way.

Yet there was a bigger worry, one she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to: if Fiona was right—the story was crazy but Fiona was known to be uncannily right on many matters—what if the man who appeared to her wasn’t Dante?

Maybe it was better not to know if Dante wasn’t her dream man.

It would be awful to be in love with a man who wasn’t Mr. Right. On the other hand, did she want to know Dante was the man meant to make a magical future with her? Shouldn’t that be the surprise that came on secret dreams to both of them?

It almost felt like Dante was defenseless in the face of her participation in Fiona’s scheme.

“Pooh,” she murmured, “I doubt I see any man at all. Fiona’s got more stories than a fortune-teller at the state fair.”

Soft, tinkling music reached her ears. She glanced around, wondering if Fiona was piping music up to her to set the mood. “Fiona, I’m not buying your fairy godmother shtick.”

The music was pretty, so lilting and spellbinding that Ana finally smiled. Okay, so perhaps Fiona was using all her props to close the deal. It would be fun to try the gown on and throw cold water on the whole tale of magic nonsense.

Fascinated in spite of herself, Ana touched the wedding dress, her heart suddenly beating very fast. Shimmying out of her jeans and top, she stepped into the infamous magic wedding dress that had led so many Callahan brides to their fairy-tale endings.

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