The Ranger's Rules Page 3

  Rhett reached for his rifle and slipped from the Jeep.

  “What are you doing?” Casey asked with a frown.

  “Seeing what’s going on with my damn engine.” He stepped in front of the car and popped the lid.

  He was obscured from view as was the baby buffalo.

  Casey slipped from the Jeep, her boots landing on the hard ground. Instantly the heat of the sun caressed her shoulders through her clothing and without the rush of air from traveling, sweat popped in her cleavage and underarms.

  She batted away a fly then lifted her camera and took several shots of the herd as a whole. Stooping, she took some pictures at ground level using handily positioned tufts of grass to frame the image.

  “What the fuck!” Rhett’s big dusty boots appeared before her.

  She stood, surprised by the venom in his voice, her line of sight going up his legs, past his groin and settling on his face. They’d been getting on well, hadn’t they? So why was he standing with his hands on his hips and his breaths coming in short sharp snaps?

  His brow was creased; she couldn’t see his eyes because of his shades but his mouth was in a thin, tight line. “Get in the damn Jeep.”

  “I’m just taking some—”

  “I can see what you’re doing and you’re asking for fucking trouble.” His jaw appeared to tighten even more.

  “But…”

  “Now.”

  Her heart was racing, thudding against her breastbone. The guy really did appear to be furious with her. She stepped into the Jeep, sitting heavily and feeling put out at being told what to do with so little finesse.

  He dropped the hood with a loud bang that drew the attention of several water buffalo, then slung his rifle into the car and revved the engine.

  Within seconds he’d spun the Jeep around and they were heading back along the dirt track toward his lodge.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  No answer.

  She frowned. Why was he being so sour and childish? What the hell had she done to incur such wrath?

  The Jeep shuddered as it lurched in then out of a pothole. Casey gripped the dash and held her camera steady to stop it whacking her chin. “What’s the rush?”

  Silence.

  Rhett was really starting to annoy her. And why were they heading back to the lodge? Hadn’t he wanted to check on the water buffalo? They’d barely been with them two minutes.

  The lodge came into view. Rhett tore up the gears as if impatient to get there.

  Casey shot a glance at him. His expression was steely, his hat pulled low. Damn it, if he wasn’t such a sullen bastard he could be considered handsome in a rough and ready kind of a way. She squirmed on the seat and swallowed down a lump of nervousness.

  He screeched to a halt at the gate, quickly slid it open, then drove the Jeep inside.

  As he shut the gate up, Casey slipped from the vehicle. She was more than a little pissed off that she’d only got a couple of photographs from their trip. How the hell was she supposed to make a start on her article for Wild World? Sure, the baby buffalo was cute as was the egret picking off ticks, but she needed so much more.

  Rhett strode up to her, his footsteps heavy on the dirt ground and his strides long. Reaching out, he grabbed her wrist, wrapping his big hand around her slender bones, and tugged her toward the side of the house.

  “Hey, what’s going on? What are you doing?” she asked, trotting to keep up with him.

  “I thought you said you knew the rules?” he said in a voice so gruff it was almost a growl.

  “The rules?”

  He took the four steps up to the veranda in two paces. She struggled to keep up with him. “The rules of being out on the reserve.”

  “I do. And get off me.”

  “No.” He sat on his usual seat, knees bent, back straight, his fingers still wrapped around her wrist.

  “I demand that you do.” She yanked her arm but to no avail.

  “When you’re in the Jeep, you’re safe.” With his free hand he removed his hat and tossed it to one side. It landed on the floor creating a puff of dust. “The animals don’t associate the vehicle with humans, just with scary noise and stinking diesel fumes. The moment you step out you’re prey.”

  “Well, I was only out for a moment and—”

  “A moment is all it takes for attack. Have you any fucking idea how many big cats out there would eat you for brunch?”

  “But—”

  “And it’s not their fault, they gotta eat. But I don’t want to have to explain to Dan why I had to shoot one of them to save some dumb ass English photographer who couldn’t keep her butt in the Jeep. You only, I repeat only, leave the safety of the vehicle when you’ve been given permission from a ranger. Basic damn rules of the land, lady.”

  Casey opened her mouth to speak then closed it again. He had a point but even so, he was overreacting. “Well, I’ll know for next time.”

  “Too damn right you will.” He pulled her arm harder, dragging her so close her legs touched his.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making sure you remember to do as you’re damn well told while I’m responsible for you.”

  He released her wrist, but before Casey could register the fact or step away his arms were around her torso. Suddenly her world tipped upside down and she found her belly pressing into his lap and her expensive camera dangling toward the deck.

  He scooted her closer to his body and pressed his palm between her shoulder blades. “Keep still.” He brought his hand down on her right buttock. A real hard spank that sent shockwaves of sting over her flesh.

  “Ouch!” She jerked forward, grabbing her swinging camera as she did so. “What the…”

  Another slap, the opposite cheek this time and just as firm. Her thin trousers offered her no protection and she cried out and kicked her heels up.

  “Don’t struggle, you’ll get more.”

  “More, this is too much…” Anger raged within her. “How fucking dare you.”

  “You will do as instructed while in my care.” He slapped again, several times over. His aim was deadly accurate, layering up the pain in the same place each time.

  Casey felt her eyes moisten. She struggled to get free but it was no good, he had her pinned tight. Plus she didn’t dare let go of her camera for fear it would break.

  On and on the slaps came.

  When will this end?

  The humiliation sent a wave of heat through her. Her face burned, and she bit her lip. No one had ever treated her this way. “Let go of me, damn it,” she said breathlessly.

  Suddenly she found herself upright, her vision was out of focus but her feet back on the deck.

  Rhett sat back in the chair and after straightening his shades, folded his arms and surveyed her.

  “How fucking dare you,” she said, her mouth dry and her throat tight. “You can’t just spank women for not following your stupid rules.”

  “Clearly I can, and they’re not stupid rules, they’re for your own protection.” He shrugged.

  Casey’s ass stung, but more than that her pride had been ripped apart. What the hell gave Rhett the right to treat her like a naughty child? She was a grown woman, a professional respected in the field of wildlife photography. The guy was so up his own ass to think he could treat her like that.

  And now, to sit there, not out of breath, not even a flush of color on his cheeks. He was acting as though tipping her up and spanking her was the most normal thing in the world to do.

  Her body tingled as she smoothed the material over her stinging buttocks. Her belly was tight, and her breaths coming fast.

  “You won’t do it again, though, will you?” He tipped his head and studied her.

  “No, I won’t, and for the record you smack my ass again and I’ll sue you for everything you’ve got.”

  He removed his shades and his dark eyes settled on hers. “Really? Everything I’ve got.”

  “Yes.” She stampe
d her right foot on the floor. “I will.”

  Much to her annoyance this seemed to amuse him and the left side of his mouth twitched and his eyebrows lifted.

  “Oh, you’re so…” She struggled to find the word. She wasn’t one for swearing and name calling but he’d pushed her to the limit.

  “So what?” he asked.

  “So fucking annoying.” There were many more things she wanted to call him but the words had stacked up in her mouth. So instead she pulled open the door to the lodge.

  Buddy raced out, his long back legs tripping over each other in his excitement.

  Stepping into the shade, Casey clenched her jaw and gripped the strap of her camera. Rhett would have to learn how far he could push her, and right now, he’d well overstepped the mark.

  Chapter Four

  Casey sat on the bed in her room, then stood immediately. Her ass was on fire. It was as if she’d sat on an ant’s nest, something she remembered doing as a kid and being bitten to bits.

  “Bloody hell,” she muttered, removing her camera and pacing across the room to set it on the desk.

  She wrung her hands together. Twitchy with adrenaline, her body didn’t feel like her own.

  Shaking her head, she stomped harder. Rhett had put her over his lap, spanked her ass. What the hell was she supposed to do about that? It had never happened to her before; she hadn’t imagined it ever would.

  She conjured an image of what the scene must have looked like. Him, all big and powerful, brutish and determined, and so fucking convinced he was within his rights to treat her that way.

  Her, so small and fragile in comparison to him and totally at his mercy. She recalled the pressure of his hand on her back, a solid, immovable weight, and the ease at which he’d pulled her into position.

  He was a thug; there was no doubt about it.

  So why was her heart still racing? Why had the tingles on her ass slid between her legs to her pussy and created a tug of longing?

  She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, frustrated with her own body. Sure, it had been a while since she’d had sex. Billy had been out of her life for nearly a year now and she was better off without his cheating ways. But to think a spanking from Rhett had turned her on, well, that was just ridiculous. There was no way she was so hard up, her libido so barren, that any kind of male contact revved her engine, no matter how inappropriate.

  Staring out of the window, she spotted Rhett playing with Buddy. He had some kind of feather on a string and was holding it just out of the serval’s reach. Buddy was springing upward, high, much higher than Casey would have expected him to, and clasping it with his paws. Even from where she stood, it was clear to see Buddy would be a successful predator. With long claws and muscles made for the chase, evolution had destined him for survival.

  Yet without Rhett, the orphaned kitten would be dead.

  Casey wound her arms around herself and blew out a breath. How could such a jerk be such a kind soul?

  For several minutes she watched Rhett and Buddy, then as Buddy appeared to tire, the two of them went out of view.

  She realized she was thirsty. Dust from the disastrous game drive was clogging up her throat. The bedroom door was firmly shut. When she’d slammed it she’d had no intention of going back through it for the entire day. But now she found herself needing to.

  Blowing out a breath and tucking a few stray hairs behind her ears, she pulled it open. Buddy was fussing with a blanket on the floor, as though checking it for bed suitability. Rhett was nowhere to be seen.

  She filled a glass with water and drank deep. Her stomach was empty and the liquid sloshed into it.

  Perhaps she should eat? Maybe then she’d feel better—maybe then she’d know what the hell to do.

  With quick efficiency she set some pasta on to boil and opened up some tins of tuna and tomato. She’d make a hot lunch and hopefully, with food in her belly, she’d form a plan. Right now she just wanted out of here, away from Rhett, but equally she needed to stay and get the photographs for her article.

  As she sought a bowl and cutlery she considered how she’d go about telling her boss, Michael, why she’d returned to London empty-handed.

  Because I was spanked, Michael—upended and spanked like a child by a ranger who is both kind and wild.

  She tutted then realized she’d made way too much pasta. She never had been any good at judging it.

  A shadow slipping over her announced the arrival of Rhett into the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge and retrieved a cucumber. Without speaking he cut off a section and chopped it up.

  “I’ve made too much,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Want some?”

  “Sure, smells good.” He scooped up the cucumber and flashed her a smile. “Come this way.”

  “What, so you can hit me again?”

  “I didn’t hit you, I spanked you, and no, not unless you’ve done something you shouldn’t have.” A frown line plowed across his brow. “Have you?”

  “No, and—”

  “So come on.” His smile returned. It was a broad grin that showed off neat teeth that appeared all the whiter because of his deep tan. “This way.”

  Still holding the cucumber, he strode from the kitchen, past the living area and onto the veranda.

  Intrigued by his change of mood and the dazzling smile, plus curious as to what he was going to do with the cucumber, Casey followed.

  Rhett went down the steps, past the shower area and stopped by a cactus. He bent and put the cubes of cucumber onto a brown dish. “Come meet Porsche.”

  “Porsche?”

  “Yeah, she’s a leopard tortoise, not very old in terms of how long they can live.”

  Casey crouched next to him and studied the small creature as it grabbed a chunk of the moist fruit with its beaklike mouth. She could see why it was called a leopard tortoise; its shell had a dark spotty appearance. But there was something not right with its shell; a section of it was white, almost like plastic. “What happened to him?”

  “He is a she, and she was hit by a Jeep, smashed up a section of her shell.”

  “Your Jeep?”

  “No, someone in front of me. I stopped, brought her back here, and managed to rig up this artificial section of shell.”

  “Wow, clever.”

  “I’ve had to enlarge it twice, she’s growing.”

  “I guess that’s good.”

  “Yeah, but she won’t get much bigger than this.”

  “Can you release her?”

  “No, she’d stand out as easy prey without her camouflage and although the fake shell is good, a big bird would be able to crush that section with its claws.”

  “That wouldn’t be good.” Casey watched as Porsche munched her food, dripping juice down her chin. “She likes that.”

  “Yes, it’s her favorite. I get a cucumber each fortnight when my supplies arrive. Not always possible but I do my best.”

  “That’s kind of you.”

  He paused then looked at her. “You sound surprised.”

  “About what?”

  “That I’m kind.” He stood.

  So did she. Damn, he was so much taller than her, she hadn’t realized before, but now standing so close she discovered her eye line was level with the hollow of his throat. She could just make out a few strands of chest hair peeking from the open collar of his shirt. “I know you’re kind, I’ve seen what you’ve done with Buddy, and likely he’s not the first orphaned animal you’ve helped.”

  “Some people let nature take its course out here, but I figure I was put in the savannah for a reason.”

  “Which is?”

  “To be an advocate for the animals, to stand up for their right to live on the African plains without persecution and poaching. And if I see something I can help, why the hell wouldn’t I?”

  She nodded and tipped her head, hoping he’d go on.

  “Before here,” he said. “I was in Pretoria, I had a decent job designing and building
gardens, landscaping, that sort of thing.”

  “And you didn’t enjoy it?”

  “I didn’t enjoy creating gardens for rich people to sit in. What called me was out here, the savannah, the animals. I wanted to be at one with nature, not manipulating it to look a certain way.”

  “And you feel you have that now?”

  He was quiet for a moment, then, “Yeah, I’m happy here.” He turned and held his arms out, palms up. “What’s not to love?”

  “It is very beautiful.” She stood next to him and the heat from his arm radiated onto hers.

  In the distance a dirt devil swirled dust upward in a twisting motion as it dragged lazily from east to west. A few tumbleweeds danced at its feet. Just beyond the fence, closer, a red bishop flew with his harem of females, his bright body a flame-like flash amongst their dull brown ones. And the sun beat down, its unrelenting heat hazing the ground making it appear magical.

  “This is my home,” he said quietly as he dropped his arms to his sides. “It has been for a long time now, and I can’t imagine ever leaving.”

  “You’re very lucky to have found your forever place.”

  He turned to her. “Haven’t you?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I like London but find it suffocating after a few months there. I’m always planning my next project, usually somewhere peaceful, remote.”

  “Like here?”

  “Yes, like here. Somewhere I can breathe.” She swung her attention to the horizon again then remembered the pasta cooking on the stove. “I think lunch will be ready now.”

  For a moment she thought he was going to speak again, but then he held out his hand as if inviting her to lead the way over his disheveled garden.

  As she went up the steps of the veranda, she clenched her buttocks, remembering his hand on her flesh. Was he remembering it too? Was he studying her ass? Had it turned him on or was it purely a punishment as he’d declared it to be?

  Her mind spun with unanswered questions but she pushed them aside, flicked off the hob and drained the pasta.

  Rhett reached for two small bottles of beer, popped the lids, and placed them on the table. “Been a while since anyone other than me has cooked in that kitchen.”