Page 85 of Wild Mustang Security Firm

“I am.”

“And are the agents with you going to tell me the same?”

“They are,” she said. “I took a nap earlier, then John made sure I had food to prepare.”

“If it was meatloaf, save me a sandwich, will you?”

“That’s disappointing. We’re finally back together, and the thing you want to eat is meatloaf.”

Mac dropped his voice. “No, Cowgirl, the thing I want to eat is that honey you keep between your legs. How’s your pretty red fanny doing?”

“Not as painful as it was earlier. You do know that hurts, right?”

“If it doesn’t, I’m not doing it right.”

“I take it you didn’t catch Slippery Simon.”

“No.” He chuckled. “Close but, as they say, no cigar. We’re working on it, babe.”

“I know you are. I want to come home, and I know that’s not happening until he’s caught.”

“Correct. If we don’t catch him in the next few days, I’ll try to come down there to check on you.”

“Is that going to be a complete and thorough inspection, Marshal McDaniel?” she asked seductively.

“Yes, it is, one might even say intimate.” He was glad she was bantering with him.

“I might even manage to behave until then.”

“I really wish you would. I’d much prefer to have your inspection involve a lot of sighing and moaning as opposed to crying and caterwauling.”

“I do not caterwaul!”

“You do when your bottom warms up and starts changing colors. Still a nice shade of red, or has that faded to a nice blush pink?”

“You’ll have to come see for yourself. Are Gus and the horses home?”

“They are, and I had Baez stay with them.”

“Thanks, Mac.”

“I love you, Cowgirl. Behave yourself until I get there.”

“Maybe… maybe not. You’d better not keep me waiting too long. Some of these guys assigned to be my bodyguards are pretty cute, and lots of steamy romance novels have sex scenes between the heroine and her bodyguard.”

“Yeah? And in those books, does the sexy heroine get her bottom spanked by the hero?”

“I love you, too, Mac.”

Willa hung up and slumped on the bed.

The next few days became routine. Willa continued to be impressed by the two teams charged with her safekeeping. She had quickly taken on the role of chef, assuring them it gave her something to do versus being bored to tears or worried about Mac. The marshals were thoroughly enjoying someone who knew how to serve nutritious, delicious meals.

She woke one morning happy and excited. Mac was supposed to be there tonight. As she walked into the kitchen, she could feel the pall hanging in the air.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“They’re being inundated with false tips and phony leads. Eastwick’s lawyer is making a lot of noise that his client had only bolted to escape our harassment and is willing to turn himself in if he can be under house arrest with an ankle monitor.”

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