Chapter Six

Meadow nudged Ivy in the shoulder. "Go dance. Have some fun."

She hesitated. She hadn't danced to country music in so long. Country bar music didn't compare to European discotheques and electronic music…but there was something about dancing to music you loved.

But everything had caught up to her. The whirlwind rush to get home. Being back in town.

Seeing her daddy.

She shook her head. "I can't. Not knowing what brought me to Montana. Not knowing Daddy is in that hospital…"

Meadow slipped her arms around Ivy and squeezed. The big sister support sent warmth through her. "I promise he was better than yesterday. We're getting positive updates on his condition every day. He's recovering slower than we all want him to, but he is recovering, Ivy. Didn't the doctor tell us that he thinks Daddy will be home very soon?"

She drew back from her sister and nodded. Maybe Meadow was right. The music was getting into her blood, the rhythm twisting inside her, encouraging her to move.

"Go be Ivy." Meadow gave her another little nudge toward the dance floor.

She stopped, chewing her lip. Go be Ivy. Three small words didn't encompass the world of expectations—or lack of—that came with it.

She did her best to cast a smile at her sister and stepped into the crowd.

The beat took over, and she threw herself into moving her body. Several guys danced around her, taking turns showing off their country boy moves.

The man in front of her grabbed her by the hips. She rocked them side to side and moved her arms in sync to the beat.

He inched closer until she felt the coarse denim of his jeans against her knee. She stepped back a little, but he followed her.

When he grabbed her by the waist and whirled her, she tossed her head back with a laugh. But she didn't want him to do that again.

Bobbing farther away, she tried to immerse herself deeper into the crowd. He followed her, getting within inches of her, dancing too close.

She tried to dodge him, but he kept coming back. Suddenly, a tall giant of a man appeared behind him. Ivy gulped as Hunter tapped the guy on the shoulder.

"Hey, buddy! Keep your hands to yourself."

The man spun and squared up to Hunter. Even though he was a full head shorter than the giant SEAL, he had liquid, eighty-proof courage on his side. The scent of whiskey clung to him.

Even though he was no longer dancing, he wavered on his feet. "This isn't a strip club! There's no rule I can't touch the girl."

Hunter firmed his jaw. Even though Ivy didn't know him very well, she knew the sharp angle was a sign of danger.

Ivy had seen a similar expression on Forest. Last time he was home—the last time she ever set eyes on him—her brother had walked out of her father's office wearing that exact same look.

She was just mulling that over when her unwanted dance partner turned his back on Hunter…and latched on to her hips as if he owned her.

She jerked away, trying to free herself. Over the man's head, she watched Hunter's eyes darken with fury.

He gripped the asshole by the shoulder and yanked him around. "I told you to keep your hands off her."

The guy poked a finger into Hunter's chest, too stupid to know he was poking a bear.

It all happened in a blink. Hunter snapped his fist around the man's hand. Next thing she knew, the guy was on his knees, his finger bent in an unnatural position. He let out a howl.

She grabbed Hunter's forearm to stop him.

"Oh my god! What are you doing? You can't just break someone's hand for wanting to dance with me!"

"No, you were just dancing. He was touching you."

"Let him go!" She squeezed his sinewy forearm harder.

Hunter twisted his attention from the man's face—contorted in pain—to hers. Whatever he saw in her expression made Hunter release him.

He cradled his gnarled finger in his other palm and scrambled to his feet, probably swaying from pain as much as intoxication.

Ivy didn't let go of Hunter's arm. She yanked on it. At first, he didn't budge, just looked down at her as if she'd lost her mind.

She widened her eyes, glaring harder at him until he finally relented.

With her fingers still wrapped around his arm, she stalked off the dance floor and pushed through the crowd. When people didn't move fast enough, Hunter took over. He cupped her elbow and steered her past the bar.

"Where are we going?"

He rushed on, his long strides forcing her to jog to keep up with him.

Without so much as a word, he hauled her out of the bar and into the parking lot. She stumbled but righted herself before she fell on her face.

"Stop! I can walk!"

Chest heaving, he released her. For three eternally long heartbeats, they glared into each other's eyes.

She whirled to go back inside.

He hooked her around the waist and yanked her off her feet. A scream bubbled up her throat, but it was knocked out of her by his hard-as-iron chest.

A whoosh of air blew past her lips. Before she could gather her wits, Hunter carried her off.

She slammed her fist into his side. "Put me down! Where are you taking me?"

"If you stop fighting me, I'll let you walk. But we both know you'll run back into that bar and put yourself in danger with a bunch of assholes who only want you for your body!"

Incensed, she struggled against his Neanderthal grip on her. He never even gave her a chance to get rid of that guy on her own—he took control. And he thought she wasn't capable enough in the first place.

"Put me down!" She fought harder. In a move as swift as a blink, he threw her over his shoulder.

"Stop! Right! Now! Put me down!" Her elbow glanced off his shoulder and smacked him in the ear.

Tension thrummed through his muscles.

"Try that again and I will spank your ass just like your father should have done when you were a kid!"

No way was she going down without a fight. "Go be Ivy" took on a whole new meaning.

She flopped on his shoulder. Knowing he could drop her on the ground, she fought anyway.

"Princess, I swear to god—"

She landed another blow on his shoulder, but it only glanced off what felt like pure iron.

What came next stole the breath right out of her lungs.

He brought his hand down. Hard. Flat on her ass.

The sharp sting spread across her cheek.

Her bare cheek.

In their struggle, her skirt had balled up around her waist. And her thong offered no barrier at all.

Too stunned to utter a noise, she rode on his shoulder another few feet. His heavy boots crunched over the gravel. The mountain breeze sweeping across the small town filled her open mouth with the taste of pine.

Suddenly, like somebody plugged it into an outlet, her mind reconnected.

She sputtered. "You! Fucking! Arrogant! Asshole!"

"You're entitled to your opinion."

"How! Dare! You!"

"What? Teach you a lesson? You were playing with fire back there, woman. Do you have any goddamn clue of the shit I've seen? A man like that wouldn't stop when you told him to. He wouldn't leave after just one dance."

He stopped walking so abruptly that she wobbled on his shoulder. She started to wiggle to free herself from his strong grasp and he brought his hand down on her ass again.

It wasn't a hard spank like the first one. He simply clapped his hand over her buttock.

His fingers spread over her flesh. His fingertips cupped the undercurve.

Heat seeped in, sinking in layers…through her flesh...

Until her core burned.

"Put me—"

He whipped her off his shoulder and planted her on her feet. The cold steel of the truck at her back.

Before she could take off, he braced his hands on the door of the truck, one on each side of her, and forced her spine against the metal.

At the sight of that cocky, arched brow, she balled her fists again. If she wouldn't break her hand, she'd try to punch that smirk off his rugged face.

"How dare you!"

"No, princess. How dare you jeopardize yourself? Your brother spent his entire life looking out for you. Making sure you didn't fall in the pond and drown. Making sure your skinned knees were cleaned and you didn't get an infection."

His heated words stole her breath.

"How… How do you know those things?"

"He told me," he bit off. He leaned in closer, bringing the masculine scent of aftershave that made her fists knot for another reason.

Aware that her skirt was still up around her waist, leaving her ass against the truck and her legs exposed to the wind, she reached up and wiggled it down into place.

He stared at her, face as cold as stone. His eyes glittered in the faint lighting of the parking lot. "Get in the truck, Ivy. I'm taking you home."

Her lips twisted, an angry retort dripping with a lot of sass perched on her lips. But she couldn't stop thinking about what he said about Forest.

"You have to actually let me get in the truck."

With a light pushup, he moved away from her. She reached for the door handle, but he whipped the door open first.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

Did he have to look so…so…full of himself?

"If my brother were here, he'd wipe that smirk off your face for treating me this way." She leaped into the passenger seat.

He crowded close, blocking her from slamming the door in his face. "Since he can't keep you safe, and you refuse to take those steps for yourself, I'm going to do it for you."

She blinked up at him. Hunter had actually spanked her. Like a naughty child.

Or a hot, dominant man who knew exactly how to get what he wanted.

There was something oddly alluring about a man with power like that.

* * * * *

When Hunter reached for his phone, he realized how unsteady his hands were. He wouldn't call them shaky exactly—but he wasn't himself either.

Goddamn Ivy for throwing him off his game. Not even the deadliest sniper staring down his sights at Hunter and his men could do that. Facing danger was far easier than dealing with the spoiled princess pouting sullenly next to him.

Her arms were folded, her gaze fixed on the windshield and her adorable little jaw jutting forward enough to show him just how annoyed she was. As if their wild struggle the entire way across the parking lot of Badlands hadn't been enough.

"Who are you texting?" She didn't turn her head when she spoke, but her tone smoldered with a caustic ring.

"Colton. If they're getting a ride home with us, he and Meadow better leave now."

Again, she spoke while refusing to look at him. "You don't own this truck. You can't just take off."

He held up the key.

She gave it a cursory glance. "How did you get that?"

"Colton gave it to me when we arrived."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why would he do that?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe he knew that I'd need to take you home early."

She twisted her head to stare out the side window at the dark parking lot.

"This place doesn't even have good security. The lighting out here is shit. Another reason why you should not be left alone. Not to mention the asshole clientele."

She remained silent.

He didn't need her agreement—he was taking her out of a bad situation that would turn worse the longer she stayed here. After a quick flurry of texts with Colton, the back door opened and Meadow slid in.

Seeing her sister didn't even lift the mantle of anger Ivy cloaked herself in.

Colton jumped in next to his woman. "All good, man?"

"Yup." He started the vehicle and retraced the road leading back to the Gracey Ranch.

Nobody spoke. When they reached the gates and he rolled beneath the arch with the name in the middle, he was finally able to draw a full breath.

Dammit. He thought that the tight sensation of his battle days was over. Until he and his squadron were safe in the neutral zone, he never could fill his lungs the whole way.

That small bar in the middle of nowhere was no threat like he knew one to be, but the second that man touched Ivy, Hunter was out for blood.

Once he parked in front of the big garage, Ivy jumped out and took off walking at a fast clip toward the big house, Meadow on her heels. He paused for a second, contemplating whether or not to make a security sweep of the place, but decided to back off.

The ranch hands had been here the entire time. In fact, Marks came out of the shadows. He thumbed the brim of his Stetson in greeting.

Colton nodded to the man. "Anything to report?"

"All quiet on the home front, boss."

Hunter's stare flashed to Colton. Boss? His friend didn't react to the moniker.

"The others?" Colton asked.

"Guarding the perimeter, like you ordered. But Webb's already got the fire going."

Colton grunted. "I figured as much. Go on and join him. I'll make sure everything's clear around here and join you all later."

Marks had a few years on Colton, but his level of respect was clear. "Sounds good, boss. See ya there."

The constant mountain breeze that swayed the trees on the land died down for a moment, leaving silence. The low strains of a guitar being plucked reached them.

"Sounds like Webb's already on the strings. I'll grab the beer." Marks walked off, leaving Hunter alone with Colton.

Hunter twitched his head at him. "Let's talk."

Colton moved toward the porch of the big house. The caution he used as he prowled around told Hunter that his friend trusted nothing and no one. Things hadn't changed on that front.

He leaned against the heavy wood post supporting the porch. "What happened back there with Ivy?"

Hunter scrubbed a knuckle over his upper lip. "Guy wouldn't keep his hands off her."

Colton's lips twisted. "Sounds familiar."

He battled with himself. Telling his friend—who was so close to Ivy's own sister—that he'd swatted the woman on the ass out of sheer frustration seemed like a bad idea. The last thing he wanted was Colton to think he'd lost his ability to control himself.

"Sounds like you knew when it was time to get her out of there. I can't blame you, man. But did you get to talk to a single person?"

He shook his head. His purpose in going to Badlands tonight was to listen and learn. People talked when alcohol was involved, but he hadn't even overheard a single conversation. He could blame it all on Ivy, but he should have been in control of himself at all times.

"Let's have a quick look around. Then you can head to your bunk."

"But you're not turning in yet."

Colton shook his head. "I'm not jetlagged. You've been awake a long time, man."

He sent a look at the house, thinking that Ivy didn't seem a bit affected by her lack of sleep either. And she'd only dozed on the plane.

He shook his head. "I'm not that tired. I'll join you at the fire if that's where you're headed."

After a quick check of the cameras set on the perimeter of the house and ranch, he and Colton strolled behind the cluster of outbuildings to the bonfire.

In the golden glow from the leaping flames, he made out the guys all seated in lawn chairs. At their approach, Marks looked up with a smile and nod. He'd obviously gotten into the cooler of beer next to him. He already had an empty one on the ground at his feet and a second in his hand.

"Have a beer," Colton said as Hunter took up a vacant seat.

Hunter settled in the chair, his gaze moving over the faces of the men seated around the fire. With one look, he picked up on the tight bonds between these men. Having one of their own missing had to wear on them. The fact that they hid it so well, disguised it behind hard masks, was so like what Hunter and Colton knew as SEALs.

Flashes of memory hit his brain, one after another. The bombardment went on for several long minutes as he stared at the flickering fire and the white wisps of smoke rolling toward the star-specked sky.

Fuck. After every op, he and his buddies would sit and talk just like this. Laugh and joke with each other—but it always covered up the horrors they'd seen and done in the name of their country.

These humble cowboys sitting around talking, while Webb plucked the guitar strings, carefully avoided the glaring danger they now stared in the eye.

They were protecting the ranch. Protecting the sisters who would someday inherit it from their father, who they suspected had started the trouble to begin with.

And they were all avoiding thoughts of the missing man.

Hunter pushed to his feet and took off walking. He had to get out of here, away from the light that could reveal the dark expression he must wear—that mirrored his dark thoughts.

He crossed the field to the line of fence and braced a hand on the coarse rail.

When he came to Montana, he had no intention of getting so involved with the Gracey family. Forest was one of his best friends. His brother-in-arms had shared a lot of his personal stories with Hunter—enough that he understood what lines Forest would consider crossed.

He crossed one with Ivy.

Forcing her to go home for her own good was one thing, but he never should have laid a hand on her.

He clenched his fist against the feel of her warm, ripe flesh beneath his hand. Christ, her skin was so silky. Her body was fucking alive in a way that he hadn't known in too goddamn long.

When Colton approached, he heard him coming from yards away. Neither spoke for a moment as he moved to stand next to Hunter.

He swallowed against the volcanic gravel in his throat. "I spanked Ivy."

His friend said nothing. Long seconds passed, and then Hunter turned his head to look at Colton. A smile played around his lips.

He narrowed his eye at Colton. "You fucking knew I would. How?"

"Because you and I are too alike—and so are those sisters."

"She's a fucking hellion. But she does it in a way that makes you think she's royalty acting bad."

"Yeah, that's the Gracey women for ya." He pushed out a sigh that sounded less impatient and more appreciative.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now that I touched her? You should send me packing. In fact, I'll do it myself. I'll go tonight." He turned from the fence.

"You're gonna let one woman send you running?"

He squared up. "I'm not running."

Colton stared at him. "Good. Because I need you around here. We've made the place safer, but the ranch doesn't have all the measures of protection it needs. I thought you made a commitment to helping."

He looked his friend over. "You're not even going to tell me off for teaching the boss's daughter a lesson? I thought you were in charge around here now."

He chuckled. "Would a lecture do any good? I know better than anyone how damn difficult a Gracey woman can be."

He ground his teeth. "She's the most frustrating woman I've ever met. She's smart in some ways—I'd even call her savvy—but how she survived in Europe without being abducted by sex traffickers, I don't fucking know."

The sound of Webb on the guitar filtered across the field to them. Up above, the sky had grown black, and stars popped out, winking against the midnight velvet.

He sucked in a deep breath. "I'll try to stay away from her."

Colton clapped him on the shoulder, his hand the anchor in the storm he needed to stay the course.

"You can try to stay away from her. But I've seen how you look at her too."

His head snapped around.

Colton patted him on the back. "Have fun with that, bro."