He tapped a blunt fingertip on the table again. “Like cancer?”
“Cancer treatments, immunological medicines, the treatments of birth defects and even extending human lifespan.”
He gave her a direct look. “So it’s big.”
She blew out a ragged breath. She still couldn’t believe it herself. This was one of the top finds of the century. “Yes.”
“Do you work with others on this project?”
“I had two assistants. They ran data for me and compiled information.”
“Give me their names.”
She did, and again he placed them in his phone.
“Did you ever feel threatened by either of your assistants, even if it was just a bad feeling?” he asked.
She racked her brain for such an experience, but nothing came to mind. “No. No, I never felt anything but a normal camaraderie with my assistants.”
“Who owns the lab? Give me names.”
This went on and on, until her brain felt like mush. She turned her head to stare at the landscape beyond the double doors. They led to a patio where their families shared so much food and fun. Now everything was coated in a layer of snow, but the beauty of the scenery soothed her soul.
When she turned her head, she found Ross staring at her. She swallowed hard. God, he was a rugged and beautiful man. All cowboy and strength and determination with enough muscle to cause her stomach to flutter. Add in the dark shadow sprouting on his squared jaw and the promise of a smile—and a glimpse of his Wynton dimple—and suddenly, she was a gawky teen crushing on an older boy who paid her no notice.
Uneasy with her thoughts, she pushed her glasses up.
“You’ve given me a lot of information to process, Pippa. I’ll start digging into the backgrounds of each person you named, as well as your company and its employees. What you’ve discovered is something other people will want. Other companies, even other countries.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve provided a motive for the crime and made yourself a target.”
She pulled up straight in her seat. “I was doing my job,” she said with the heat his remark raised in her.
“Of course you were. But that doesn’t mean you—” He received a text and cut off to read it. “Boone got called out, and he can’t do the afternoon chores.” He arched a brow at her. “Come with me? I’d like to keep talking to you. But if you’re too tired…”
“I’m not. Besides, I haven’t helped with ranch chores in a long time.”
“You can wear one of Corrine’s jackets. If you don’t mind smellin’ like a horse, that is.”
For the first time since sitting down with him, a smile tickled at the corners of her mouth.
He outfitted her with a jacket and donned one of his own, the same thick canvas he’d given her outside the airport. For some reason, as she followed him to the barn, she couldn’t stop thinking about slipping her arms around his shoulders and leaning against his strong body just to smell his male spice again.
“At least you’ve got on sensible boots.”
She strode through the light snow beside him. “They always recommend shoes that can’t fall off when you fly.”
The tilt of his smile reflected in her heartrate. “And you adhere to all the rules, don’t you, Pippa?”
Was he making fun of her? Sure, she was a rule follower—what was wrong with that?
“I wore these boots because they’re the most comfortable I own. I never understood the FAA’s reason for the recommendation. If you crash, losing a flip-flop’s the least of your concerns.”
His smile flashed again as they reached the barn. He handed her a shovel. “Remember how to muck out a stall?”
She chuckled, which sounded throatier than before, as if Ross took over her body whenever he was near. Such as a rise in her pulse and body temperature, and the lowering of her voice into something softer.
“Do I have to worry about one of your brothers shoving me into the manure pile?” she asked.
Another grin slanted her way. She curled her toes inside her boots and gripped the shovel handle tighter.
“If they were around, I’d have them do this job, not you. C’mon.”
As he led her into the space, she was thrown back in time. Traditions and a love for family and friends mingled with the scents of straw and horses. She stopped in the center aisle between stalls to stare up at the beams of light streaming in through high windows. Aware of Ross stopping next to her, she flushed.
“I always loved this one horse. Maverick.”
“Ole Mav? He’s out in the pasture.”
She blinked. “He’s still alive?”
“Horses ain’t like dogs. They live longer. I’ll show you.”
When they stepped out of the barn into the small pasture enclosed by new a black fence, she caught sight of the horse she’d fed carrots to and groomed on many occasions. His chestnut coat still gleamed in the sun as he gracefully bent to pluck hay from the bale.
“Oh, he’s just as beautiful. He used to let me braid his mane.”
“He sure is…and I remember.” Ross watched Maverick and another horse keeping him company munching on the hay. A moment passed and he planted the point of his shovel into the snow. “Best get to work. Stalls won’t clean themselves.”
Chapter Three
Ross wheeled the barrow full of soiled straw into the allocated area and dumped it. This work was as familiar as breathing, and he could do it blindfolded. Which was why he loved the challenge he got with WEST Protection.
However, he could do without this challenge. When he started the company, he never thought he’d be protecting Pippa Hamlin.
At first, if he was honest, he didn’t totally buy her story of being followed. Then one look at the bruises on her pale skin and he wanted to hunt down the people after her and snap their necks. One by one.
His reaction didn’t make a lick of sense. Over the course of the year he’d been doing this job, he never felt such intense anger on behalf of his clients. Since the moment he spotted the fear creasing Pippa’s eyes back in that airport, then the purple and blue bruises, he’d told himself that his response was due to her being like a kid sister to him.
But that got snatched by the late autumn wind each time he looked at her.
He stepped into the barn again. She worked in Maverick’s stall, her pale brown, thick hair swishing on the shoulders of her borrowed coat.
“We need a plan.”
She turned at his announcement.
“I have a feeling you’re not talking about which stall to clean next.” She moved to the door of the stall and faced him.
He nodded.
She drew in a breath. “I can start off the plan. I need to be in Seattle by Sunday.”
His brows shot up. “To be with your family?”
“No. I’m speaking at a conference Monday morning. Genomics and Molecular Biology. I’d planned to stay with my parents for a long weekend and then head back to Detroit Tuesday morning. They expect me on Friday, but I think that’s out the window.”
He scuffed his boot on the floorboards. “This tosses another layer of meat onto the sandwich.”