Page 9 of The Wrangler

Keely grinned. “You’re going to love this.”

Jesse shook his head. “Doubt it.”

She laughed, setting plates on the counter, enjoying the fact that—despite himself—he was relaxing. Jesse Bryant wasn’t the kind of man who let his guard down. And yet, here he was, in her kitchen, watching her with something that wasn’t quite amusement but wasn’t full of exasperation either.

She liked it—way too much.

She needed a distraction before she did something stupid—like close the distance between them just to see if Jesse kissed the way she knew he would.

Keely pushed off the counter, heading toward her suitcase. “Before I forget, I grabbed something for Reed while I was inMilan. Could you give it to him in the office tomorrow? It’ll only take a second for me to get.”

She rolled the suitcase into her bedroom and tossed it up on the bed that dominated the room. Jesse was right; this sucker was heavy. She inserted the key in the lock—none of that fancy TSA-approved lock for her. If they wanted to see in her bag without her being there, she was damn well going to know about it from the forced lock. She tried to turn the key, only it didn’t work. Keely pulled the key back out, wiped it off and tried again with the same result.

“Jesse? Can you come open this damn lock for me?”

He joined her and grinned, flipping out the switchblade he kept in his pocket and prying the lock open. “You know you should really have one of the new combination locks…”

“Not happening.”

He chuckled and headed back to the kitchen. She flipped open the suitcase and then took a step back from it. There was a reason the key hadn’t worked, this wasn’t her suitcase. It looked like hers. Same designer brand. Same deep green color. Same black leather trim, but the moment she flipped it open, she knew.

Keely frowned, reaching for the expensive-looking black jacket on top, shaking it out. A small baggie fell from the pocket. It was plastic and filled with clear pieces of something. She held the bag up so she could get a closer look. Keely froze, her breath catching.

Diamonds. They looked to be uncut and unmarked.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, looking towards Jesse.

Jesse moved in an instant, pushing up from the stool and reaching her side before she could so much as blink.

His voice was deadly quiet. “Keely. What the hell is this?”

Keely swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her throat. “You mean these?” She shook the bag in front of his face. “They look like diamonds to me.”

She looked at the suitcase again, at the expensive clothes that weren’t hers, the high-end luggage that looked just like her own but clearly belonged to someone else. A realization hit her like a punch to the gut.

“They aren’t mine and this isn’t my bag,” she said.

Jesse took the bag of diamonds from her, rolling it between his fingers. His expression was flat. Controlled. But his eyes? Blazing with fury. Why was he pissed at her? She had done nothing.

Keely looked at him, at the hard line of his jaw, at the way his shoulders squared like he was preparing for something. Something bad. And then she realized his anger wasn’t directed at her.

“Jesse?” she whispered.

His gaze snapped to hers. “Where the hell is your actual suitcase?”

She shook her head, a horrible feeling settling in her stomach. “I don’t know.”

Keely didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Because this wasn’t just a mistake. This was something else. And whoever this suitcase belonged to? They were going to want it back.

Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the rest of the suitcase’s contents. The luxurious designer jacket on top—definitely not hers—the immaculately folded clothing that looked like it belonged to a man who had expensive taste and probably more money than morals.

This was bad. Really, really bad.

The air in the room shifted, thick with something sharp and dangerous as Jesse stood beside her, holding the bag. His fingerscurled around it, the small plastic crinkling, but his focus was laser-sharp.

“Keely,” he said, his voice low and lethal, tossing the bag back into the suitcase. “Where the hell did you get this suitcase?”

She swallowed hard. “The airport. Baggage claim. Same place as always.”

---