they liked him back.
Easing his mount up next to Lauralee’s, he studied her profile for a heartbeat before speaking. “There’s a small room to control the security system and monitor the grounds.”
She met his stare. “Monitors for every camera?”
“Yes.”
“How many in total?”
“At least two dozen, maybe more.”
“What else can you tell me about the security? How hard would it be to hack the passcodes?” she asked.
“You’d know that better than me.”
She changed tactic. “How many have access to the passcodes?”
“A few of us guards, but not all. The security around this place makes the ranch look like it’s fair ground for trespassers. We definitely trust people a hell of a lot more than Black does.” He led the horse around some rock and back on the trail.
“The servant named Anna asked me a ton of questions about us. I was so freaked out that I’d slip, and she’d catch me in a lie. I had to talk you up much more than I ever thought I would have to.”
He chuckled. “That gets stuck in your craw, doesn’t it?”
“Don’t pretend you enjoyed holding my hand so much or giving me dopey looks.”
That had another laugh rumbling through his chest, but fact was, he had only thought to protect the woman who was as much in his care in this place as any real wife would be. Lauralee might be helping with the case, but she required protection from the many unseen dangers of being undercover in such an operation.
“Did you find out anything about the wife?” Her question brought him back to the conversation.
The jangle of harnesses and creak of leather provided a pleasant backdrop of sound to their conversation. “Nothing yet. You?”
“The staff like to gossip, so I’m hopeful someone might slip. But no, I didn’t hear anything yet.” She absently moved her hair over one shoulder, exposing her white throat to his view.
What he saw punched him in the gut—the pink marks on her pale flesh where his five o’clock shadow had abraded her skin when he sucked on her neck.
Hell, he’d marked her without realizing it. But one glance had him achingly hard all over again. He searched for a cozy spot to tumble her into the high grass and slake this lust once and for all, but her eyes narrowed on his face.
“Stop looking at me that way.”
“Can’t help it.”
“Well try.” She looked straight ahead between the horse’s sandy-colored ears. Her mount was surefooted and graceful, with willowy legs made for racing. But its slender build also made it more susceptible to injury if it got a hoof hung up between rocks and took a fall. He didn’t want to think about how Black would handle such an event. The last thing they needed was to owe the man.
“Back to the system.” She cut a glance at him. “What’s the authentication like? How many are granted access?”
“At least two of us—me and the night guy who babysits it all while I’m asleep. And Black himself, I’m sure.”
“Not that lump Thornburne?”
His lips twitched at her description of him, which matched his impression as well.
“I don’t think so. He’s hired for his strength, not his skill or brains.”
“Is the data protected with encrypted passcodes?”
“From what I’ve seen so far.”
“Were you provided with a passcode, or do you get to choose your own?”
“They let me choose.”
“I wish there was a way for you to get me in there to look at that system.”
He eyed her. “What would you do?”
“I’d shut down a few cameras at a time, so nobody noticed. Duplicate the views and run them on loop so it looks as if they haven’t been disabled.”
“Sounds more complicated than I’m capable of.”
“Maybe we should switch roles—I’m much better with the tech, and you can strongarm your way to Black’s wife.”
He laughed, liking her more. The sun slowly chased down the horizon, lighting up the ground in patches of shadow and light and falling through the trees to dapple Lauralee’s face too.
She asked a few more pointed questions, which he managed to answer without sounding like he was clueless when it came to the technology. When he spotted the perfect location he’d been searching for—flat, with a cushion of short ground cover and good grazing for the horses—he reined up.
Shooting a look over her shoulder, she said, “What are you doing?”
“Let’s stop here.”
The part of his brain he still had a grip on shouted that stopping was a bad idea. But the part that kept hearing Lauralee’s little moans when