Her heart was beating so hard she could barely hear him. “Please don’t kill—”

  A gunshot fractured the night.

  From his position behind a jut of granite ten yards away, Bo saw Rachael’s body jolt, and his heart stopped dead in his chest. All he could think was that Karas had fired simultaneously. That she would die before he got to her side. That he would never hold her again. Or look into her eyes and see all the things that were good and right in the world.

  Only then did it strike him that somehow he’d lined up for a shot and taken it. He’d hit Karas with the first shot, and it had been fatal. The fear that had gripped him for so many months fled the instant he’d known it was either take the shot—or lose Rachael forever.

  None of that mattered now. All he cared about was Rachael. Praying he hadn’t taken the shot too late, he shoved the pistol into the waistband of his jeans and started toward her at a dead run.

  For a terrible moment, Rachael thought Karas had shot her. Then she realized she hadn’t felt the impact. That the shot had come from somewhere else.

  Across from her Viktor Karas went to his knees. His gaze locked on hers. He hovered there for several interminable seconds. He tried to raise the pistol, but he wasn’t strong enough. She heard a rush of breath from his lungs, then he fell forward and lay still.

  Rachael tried to get to her feet, but her legs were shaking so violently she couldn’t manage. She jolted when strong hands landed on her shoulders.

  “Easy.” Bo’s voice penetrated the aftershocks of fear. “I’ve got you.”

  “Is he…?” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t speak.

  “He’s gone.” Gently, he helped her to her feet. “It’s over.”

  Relief made her legs go weak all over again. “Cutter?”

  “Sheriff’s office is sending a chopper compliments of the agency. If they can get him to a trauma center quickly, I think he’s going to be okay.” Turning her to face him, he looked into her eyes, his gaze dark with concern. “I’m not so sure about you.”

  Only then did she realize she was crying. Her entire body trembled. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “You’re entitled.” Bending slightly, he swept her into his arms. “You’ve been through a lot.”

  “You saved my life twice tonight.”

  “You didn’t make it easy.” He smiled down at her. “But then nothing worth anything ever is.”

  Epilogue

  Rachael walked toward Sean Cutter’s makeshift office and tried not to think about what would transpire once she entered. She should have been prepared; after all, she’d known this final meeting was inevitable after the way things had played out with Viktor Karas and Ivan Petrov. But then one could never prepare for the end of a career they loved.

  Around her, painting contractors rolled institutional gray paint onto new Sheetrock. Polyurethane sheeting covered the open spaces where new walls would replace the ones that had been damaged in the bombing. The agency had wasted no time in the rebuilding effort. If only rebuilding her life would be so simple.

  Her heart beat hard and fast in her chest when she rapped on the door. Cutter’s curt voice sounded from inside, telling her to enter. Taking a deep, calming breath Rachael turned the knob and pushed open the door.

  Sean Cutter sat behind a beat-up metal desk she sorely hoped was temporary. He wore a nicely cut suit, but the left sleeve hung useless at his side. His arm was in a sling, probably from the bullet wound he’d sustained three days ago in that Wyoming creek bed. He was lucky to be alive. All three of them were.

  Across from him, Bo Ruskin leaned back in a metal folding chair. He was wearing a black felt cowboy hat, high-end western boots and jeans that reminded her of the night she’d spent in his arms. A memory that would be with her the rest of her life.

  “Have a seat,” Cutter began.

  She took the chair next to Bo. She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn’t look at him. She wasn’t sure how she would react or what she would feel. She didn’t know how to be in love. She sure as hell didn’t know how to say goodbye. To the man she loved—and the career she’d devoted her entire adult life to building.

  Gathering her resolve, she focused her attention on Cutter, met his gaze levelly. “How are you feeling?”

  “Shoulder hurts like hell, but I’m going to be okay. I start physical therapy next week.”

  “Good.” She nodded with ridiculous enthusiasm.

  A tense silence sounded for the span of several heartbeats, then Cutter opened the file on his desk and gave her a pointed look. “I could spend the next couple of hours dressing you down for the way you handled the Karas situation during your mandatory time off.”

  Here it comes, she thought.

  “But I won’t.”

  Surprise rippled through her, but it was tempered by anxiety. Because her hands wanted to shake, Rachael set them on her thighs and resisted the urge to wipe the sweat from her palms. “I appreciate that.”

  Cutter motioned at Ruskin. “Bo said you were instrumental in bringing this to an end, Rachael.”

  Finally, she risked a look at Bo. His eyes were already on her, probing as if he were trying to figure out what she was thinking, what she was feeling. She wasn’t even sure herself.

  “If it hadn’t been for Ms. Armitage,” Bo said, “Viktor Karas would have blindsided us, more than likely killing everyone at my ranch. He would have taken me and Ms. Armitage hostage and then fled the border into Canada and ultimately to Moscow.”

  It was the last thing she’d expected Bo to say. Last she’d heard, he’d called her reckless and accused her of having a death wish.

  “That’s still not to say you disregarded a few direct orders,” Cutter added.

  “Just a few,” she said dryly.

  “But I’m a firm believer in that courage and heroism should be rewarded.” He grimaced. “I’m only sorry I didn’t support you in your endeavors to bring down this dangerous criminal early on. Frankly, I was worried about your safety. I was afraid you’d cross a line and get yourself hurt.” He smiled. “In stead, it was me who got hurt. And I owe both of you thanks for saving my life.”

  Rachael didn’t know what to say. Walking into Sean Cutter’s office, she’d feared losing her job. Losing her identity. Most of all she’d feared losing the man she loved more than her own life.

  Gathering her resolve, she met Cutter’s stare head-on. “I know what I did was risky, Sean. But I believe in right and wrong. I still believe that good prevails over evil. I’m just glad that I could do my part to end Viktor Karas’s reign of terror.”

  Cutter smiled. “In that case, I wanted to give you a heads up that I’ve got another assignment in mind for you. North Africa. Deep cover.”

  Rachael sat up straighter. Usually, she was champing at the bit and ready to go at the drop of a hat when it came to assignments. This time, however, she wasn’t any of those things. All she could think of was that she wanted to take care of some unfinished business with the cowboy sitting next to her first.

  The realization stunned her. For the first time in the course of her career, she wanted time off. Time to make things right with Bo.

  “I’m afraid I can’t accept the mission,” she heard herself say.

  The two men exchanged looks. Rachael could feel her heart beating hard and fast. Her palms slicking with sweat.

  “Why not?”

  “I’d like to take some time off,” she blurted.

  “Time off?”

  “To take care of some unfinished business,” she said. “In Wyoming.”

  “All right.” But for the first time since she’d known him, Sean Cutter seemed at a loss. He looked down at the file in front of him. “You have some vacation coming.”

  “How much?”

  “Three weeks.”

  “I’ll take it all,” she said.

  “When?”

  “Right now.”

  Cutter’s eyes went from Rachael to Bo, t
hen back to Rachael. “You got it.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Cutter rose. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get a cup of coffee if I can find the coffeemaker in this mess.”

  Rachael watched him limp to the door and quietly close it behind him. The silence that followed was deafening.

  “Cutter’s a good man,” Bo said after a while.

  Turning in her chair, she faced him, faced the very thing she’d feared most since setting eyes on him just one short week ago. “He’s an astute man,” she said.

  Rachael swallowed hard when he rose to his full height. Her heart hammered against her breastbone when he reached for her and pulled her to his feet.

  She looked into his eyes. Within the depths of his gaze, she saw respect. Admiration. Affection. She saw everything except the one thing she needed to see most.

  “He asked me to come back to the agency,” he said.

  “Did you agree?”

  He shook his head. “Not my game anymore.” He smiled. “But it’s yours. I want you to go for it. I want you to do what you want.”

  “I’m good at that, I guess.” But suddenly she was terrified he was letting her go. He was giving her what she wanted. What he thought she wanted.

  “It’s not what I want,” she blurted.

  His dark eyebrows snapped together. “Come again?”

  “I want to go back to the ranch with you. I want to learn to ride. I want to learn about Appaloosas. I want to spend the next three weeks getting to know you without having to worry about some madman trying to kill us.”

  Rachael was generally adept at speaking her mind and more than capable of keeping her composure while under pressure. When it came time to speak her heart, however, the words were tumbling out in disarray.

  “I thought you wanted to get back to work,” he said. “I wanted to give you the freedom to do that. I wanted to give you the time to do what you need to do before we…before I—”

  “I’ve always believed in the old adage, ‘If you love something set it free,’” she said.

  He smiled. “If it’s meant to be, it will come back.”

  “You gave me the chance to go,” she whispered.

  “I thought that was what you wanted.”

  “My priorities have shifted, Bo.” She closed her eyes briefly. “The only thing I want right now is some time with you.”

  Putting his hands on either side of her face, he searched her gaze. “I reckon that means this was meant to be.”

  “I reckon so,” she said.

  “You’ve been hanging out with too many cowboys.”

  “Probably. But I love this cowboy. I love everything about him. I want to hang out with him the rest of my life.”

  “You just made me the happiest cowboy in the world,” he said, and lowered his mouth to hers.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-2256-4

  OPERATION: MIDNIGHT COWBOY

  Copyright © 2007 by Linda Castillo

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  [http://www.eHarlequin.com] www.eHarlequin.com

  Table of Contents

  About the Author

  Books by Linda Castillo

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Copyright

 


 

  Linda Castillo, Operation: Midnight Tango

 


 

 
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net

Share this book with friends