Page 17 of Summer with a Ranger

“Whoa. That was fast. Didn’t find what you wanted?” I asked carefully.

Skye beamed at me. “Nope. Got exactly what I wanted.”

I waited for more but there was nothing forthcoming.

“Hope it was his credit card, love.” The matching lady with the older gent called gaily, waving a bag that looked cute and colourful, and probably cost a month’s wage.

Skye laughed, nope. Not laughed. Giggled. My girl giggled. The sound stunned me for a moment before I pulled my shit together and slipped my arms around her waist.

She didn’t so much as flinch, leaning into me and rising up onto her toes right there in the doorway to the jewellery shop.

“I found our mark-co,” she sang softly, shuffling her feet to let the next customer out.

The guy stood at least as tall as me and looked like something from the Godfather—or maybe the rap sheet in the manilla folder that Skye cuddled the entire way to South Carolina.

Tall, dark and broody looking, the dude looked like he could scent a bad deal or a weak chin a mile away. Or maybe a fake pair of tits.

Because right now my mark had eyes for one person.

Skye.

His gaze dropped down her body like he planned on undressing her. She giggled again, shimmying against me and more than one thing rose to attention.

Fortunately, it was my temper that cooled first as I hauled her against me and out of his way.

“This way, Skye. Let the gentleman pass,” I forced out pleasantly through gritted teeth.

“Not a problem at all.” He placed a hand on Skye’s shoulder and trailed his finger along her arm. “Is it, darlin’?”

She fucking well sighed into me.

The hell?

“Not at all, Marco. This is my husband, Hudson. Say hi to the nice man, Huddy,” she giggled again.

That noise was starting to get to me.

“Hi,” I said politely when my brain froze on the image of spanking the sound right out of her. From the look on Marco’s face, I wasn’t alone in my assessment of her behaviour. “Do you to know each other?”

“Oh no,” Said Skye, her face pink with the half-truth.

“Yes,” said Marco, looking me straight in the eye and offering a smirk. “Marcus Torrino. Or Marco.” He shrugged.

Got yourself a gangland name there, Mister Marco Torrino?

Either name would flag with Interpol and a dozen smaller home-based units, including ours. Archer took me through the process, and Brodie after on a fast call to bring me up to date. What I couldn’t work out was how Miss Skye made a new friend in thirty seconds or less in a shop.

“Oh, Marco reads my blog.” Skye looked up at me, her eyes shining, and blushed.

“Ah.” My brain blanked totally. No wonder she looked so damn happy, especially after I tore her apart for her opinions. “And, uh, what do you think?”

God, I hoped my profile said I was meant to be stupid, because I fucking well sounded like it.

“Yes, he loved the one about empowering women. You remember the one you read on the beach?” Her smile remained, though her eyes turned hard.

“Yes.” I broke her gaze and grinned at Marco. “She loves pulling a guy apart.”

“Indeed.” His eyes never left her. “I have a party on my yacht tonight. At Passion Cove. The Serenade. Would you like to attend?” His gaze lifted and his smirk that she seemed to eat right up remained. “Both of you, of course. I’m sure I can find something for you to do while I entertain your...wife.”

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