“No, the gloves protect them. I’m glad I insisted on buying some. You’d have me coating my palms with rehydrated beans.”
He chuckled, the sound full and warm and earthy. “I’d never waste good beans like that.”
The trail cut around a curve, with a very daunting drop-off to her right. She peeked over the edge.
“Stay upright in your saddle, Madeline.” Mathias’s rough command sounded as a bark.
“I was just trying to see how far down it goes.”
“Does it matter?” he asked tight enough that she envisioned his jaw locked and him forcing the words between his teeth. The imagery reminded her of the thunderous look he’d given her back at the ice machine, when he demanded she stick close from here on.
She wanted to twist and see if she was right but figured that would throw him into a tizzy, so she faced forward and guided her mule easily along the curve to a flat spot.
“Glad that’s over with.” His voice came easier now.
Surprise finally made her turn in the saddle. “Are you afraid of heights?”
“Heights? No. But I don’t trust mules. We don’t need one throwing us off a cliff.”
She couldn’t see his eyes under his hat, but she knew they were fixed on her. And something about that direct, unapologetic stare and the way he spoke about danger gave her a little shiver.
Not a shiver of cold or fear.
Of…something else.
Admit it, Madeline—it’s attraction.
Who has time for attraction when Dahl’s already headed toward the artifact?
When Mathias told her a douchebag driving a Land Rover had been rude to an employee, her blood had run cold. She hoped she was a step ahead of Dahl, but then she’d seen him picking up his horses. One glimpse of the man had ignited a fire inside her to come out on top. To keep that artifact out of his collection and out of his hands.
It was time to come clean with Mathias, wasn’t it?
“There’s something you need to know,” she called back to him.
The rustle of mules met her ears. After a second, he drawled, “I’m listenin’.”
“That guy back at the outfitter.”
“The douchebag?”
“Yes. That’s Dahl.”
“What the fuck? You didn’t say anything to me? You let him walk away? I could have taken him out of commission and you wouldn’t even need a bodyguard right now!”
“Look, he’s a lot more dangerous than you think he is. He’s got enough money to hire people to watch his back too. And he’ll have a lot more of them. So don’t for one second believe it will just be a one-on-one fight.”
The clomp of hooves on rock sounded, and a second later, he pulled up next to her. If he didn’t wear such a dark, furious look on his face, she might be tempted to laugh at his long legs dangling over the sides of that mule.
“Tell me what you know about Dahl.” He lowered his head to pierce her in his determined I-get-what-I-want stare. “Everything.”
She looked ahead at the trail. It meandered around another bend, but this one didn’t have a cliff on one side to worry about. They could ride side by side for a long distance and talk.
“He’s dangerous. Very dangerous. I didn’t say anything to you at the time because I knew you’d confront him. That would be like waving a red flag in front of a bull.”
“I handle bulls every day.”
“You know what I mean, Trace. Dahl’s got money, greed and an agenda to possess the artifact.”
“If we’re on the same trail, then won’t we run into him?”
“That’s the thing—I made an educated guess which trail he’ll use to get to the site and we took a different one. Look, we’re bound to cross paths eventually. But I’m trying to buy us time—shorten our trip. We need to get there before he does.”
And before they flood the gorge.
Should she share that intel with Mathias? She decided there was no point in putting an even more thunderous expression on his face.
“Has Dahl stolen similar artifacts before? Is he wanted by the FBI or any other agency?” he asked.
“No.”
“So he’s just got bags of money to blow on what he wants. What does he do to earn it all?”
“I thought he was a businessman dealing in rare, priceless objects. Then I found out he just has old money to waste. My opinion of the man tanked fast. He’s been on my radar for a while. I knew it was only a matter of time before he went after this object.”
“The artifact—does it have a name?”
“No. It’s just something people who study this type of lore know exists.”
“Do you study it?” He sent her an appraising glance as if trying to figure her out.
The feeling was mutual. At first she believed Mathias Trace was a what-you-see-is-what-you-get type. But the small glimpses of that dark and dangerous look that appeared on his face left her wondering what she wasn’t seeing.
“I never studied the legends much—not deeply anyway. I’d call myself an amateur student.” She guided her mule around a pile of horse droppings left behind from some other rider.
“That looks relatively fresh. We’re bound to catch up with someone before lunchtime,” Mathias commented about the droppings.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Aw, c’mon, Madeline. You don’t wanna be an amateur specialist in horse droppings?”
“No thank you.” She was starting to recognize that he liked getting under her skin. She straightened her spine and gazed at the trail, showing him he couldn’t get a rise from her.
He chuckled. The deep sound was like water over rocks. Earthy and comforting somehow. “What do you do for fun?”
“I don’t have much spare time, but when I do, I train.”
“Train? In what?”
“Martial arts. Target practice.”
“Work is all well and good. But when you let down your hair,” he sliced a look at her ponytail, “what do you do? Grab the remote control? Do a pub crawl with friends?”
“No.” She led a very dull life, and she wasn’t about to admit to her bodyguard that she worked until she dropped into bed exhausted, then woke up and did it all over again the following day.
“What about family? Do you have siblings or cousins you’re close to?”
“I’m an only child. My parents are gone.”
“Damn.” He sighed the curse so soft that the hairs on her nape prickled. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. What about you?” She hated the spotlight and turned the tables on Mathias to get him talking.
“I have a younger brother Landon. And I grew up close to my cousins, the Wyntons.”
“And you live and work on their ranch?”
“I’m surprised you know much about me at all. Then again, maybe I’m not surprised. I don’t think there’s much you don’t know or can’t research using that chip in your arm.” He nudged up the brim of his hat, which gave her a full look at his face. Even swaying on the back of the mule that was too small for his big frame, he still looked rugged and all cowboy.
She pulled her gaze from his face and stared between the ears of her mule. “How did you get dragged into the family security business?”