in her hair, drew her head back, and leaned into her face. “I’m thinkin’ we might want to get a couple of things straight.”
“Amen,” Austin muttered under his breath.
She couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t exciting or breathtaking. . . it was seriously scary. The easygoing cowboy was suddenly terrifying, and her body refused to move. She froze like a deer frightened by powerful headlights.
The firelight cast harsh shadows over his rugged face, and those eyes glittered raw emerald green. His breath brushed her lips with the scent of wine and mint. “I’ve tried to go easy on you, to be gentle and give you time to trust me, but I see now that you have the instincts of a pinecone.”
She gasped, still afraid to move. A pinecone? And why had his accent changed? He sounded like he was from the South rather than Wyoming all of a sudden. “Trent—”
“No. Don’t ‘Trent’ me with that soft voice and those luminous eyes that beg for gentle. We’re done with that.” His hold was firm but he was careful not to hurt her. The thighs beneath her butt were rock hard, as was the hand clasping her hip. “I didn’t just serve, baby. And I promise, no matter how dangerous you think the person hunting you is, he isn’t close to what I’ve become. I’m a killer, Hallie. You might as well understand that now.”
She gulped. All right. “You were in the military—”
“I was a hell of a lot more than that. We all were.” He didn’t relent. “Now. You’re going to tell me who’s after you so I can put them in the ground.” His expression was implacable and his voice gritty.
She tore her gaze away from his to seek out Austin across the fire. “You’re the sheriff,” she whispered.
He nodded. “Yep. For this week. I’m just filling in while our sheriff is out of town. So nothing can happen until Sunday, unfortunately. After that, I’m with my brother here. If somebody is threatening you, we end them. It’s looking to me as if Trent is claiming you, whether he realizes it or not, which makes you family.”
Claiming her? For goodness’ sake. “This is crazy,” she whispered, looking back at Trent while he held her off balance.
“Probably,” he agreed. “Austin’s right. I can’t get that kiss out of my mind. It felt right and real. Now. Tell me what’s going on so I can go back to being gentle and wooing you.”
The guy who so calmly said he’d end the threat wanted to woo her?
Trent held her gaze. “Austin, did you run her prints?”
She sucked in air. They’d run her prints? Seriously?
“Yep,” Austin said. “They’re not in any system I could find. I have Jesse running a deeper and not-so-legal dive on her right now. Guess I’m not sheriff material after all.”
Mac snorted. At least, the sound came from where Mac sat, although Hallie couldn’t look away from the intensity of Trent’s gaze. It was as if he held her captive with his eyes alone.
His hand tightened in her hair and he tugged. Not so gently this time. “Talk.”
Her temper spiked again. “I’m not telling you anything.”
His smile was slow. Intense. Predatory.
Her abdomen rolled over. The calm cowboy who’d held her hand and watched the fire with her was gone. Had he really existed? She swallowed. There was no way out of this. “Fine, but I want my own chair back.”
“No.” He released her hair and settled his arm around her shoulders, cradling her in a way she’d never experienced. Even though he had the scary vibe still going, she felt protected. Shielded. Confusion swamped her. “Start talking, Hallie.”
She cleared her throat and glanced at Austin. Even though he was only a temporary sheriff, he was still the law right now. She inclined her head toward Trent. “How about we talk, just the two of us?”
“No,” Trent said again. “They’re family, and I’ll tell them everything, anyway. When we have a problem, we work it together. Let’s get this done with now.”
“You are so bossy,” she snapped.
He brushed a wayward curl away from her face. “Yeah, I know. I managed not to be for almost twenty-four hours. You’re welcome.”
She smacked his chest. “I don’t appreciate the humor. The wooing didn’t last long.”
As if he couldn’t help himself, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her nose. “I guess there are different types of wooing. My type is to be nice for twenty-four hours and then take care of any threats against