One Night with the Wealthy Rancher

by Brenda Jackson

When he met her gaze, she could see the desire in his eyes, and on most occasions he wasn’t trying to mask it. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her, what buttons to push, what words to say.

  She had thought about him a lot over the weekend, wondering how and what he was doing. And, she thought as she bit her lower lip, with whom. She wished she could claim she didn’t care, but she did. She couldn’t help but notice how ladies would glance their way whenever they walked into the café together. There was feminine interest in their eyes and she couldn’t very well blame them for it. After all, she was a woman, too.

  She sighed deeply before checking her watch. It was time to make her rounds and greet everyone. She would keep herself busy until lunchtime.

  Darius stared long and hard at the computer screen, thinking he must have missed something while setting up the billing system. He needed to go back and recheck. Or better yet, he thought, leaning back in the chair and rubbing the bridge of his nose, it would probably be a good idea if he kept his mind on what he was doing and stopped thinking about Summer. Having her on his mind was probably the reason he’d thought he’d found a number of irregularities in the TCC’s accounting.

  Deciding to give both his eyes and his mind a break, he pushed away from the desk and stood, needing to stretch his body. He had been sitting at the computer practically all morning and the limited space under the desk had been murder on his long legs.

  He glanced at his watch. He had another hour to go before lunch and he couldn’t deny he was looking forward to dining with Summer again. He tried convincing himself that spending time with her meant absolutely nothing, and was just a part of his plan for revenge. There was no reason to think it was anything more than that.

  He breathed in deeply, truly wishing he believed that. But he knew if he wasn’t careful, he would be succumbing to Summer’s charms all over again. And he didn’t want that. He had given his heart to her once and what she’d done had almost destroyed him, made him unable to put his complete trust in another woman.

  He had asked her how her meeting with Kev had gone, but he’d already been privy to that information. To say she had impressed Kev was an understatement. Besides stating the obvious about what a good-looking woman she was, Kev had been taken with her keen sense of intelligence as well as her concern for the women who sought refuge at the shelter. Kev also felt she had a lot of good ideas that the TCC should definitely take under consideration.

  Sitting back down at the computer, he resumed setting up the Helping Hands account, trying to push thoughts of Summer to the back of his mind. However, once again a few discrepancies within TCC’s accounting system popped up.

  He pulled back when his cell phone went off. It was Lance. “Yeah, Lance, what’s up?”

  “Kate’s fixing dinner tonight and wants you to come eat with us.”

  Darius smiled. He liked Kate and would be the first to say she was just what Lance needed. “I’d love to.”

  “Great. I’ll let her know.”

  “Lance?”

  “Yeah?”

  Darius paused, not sure if he should mention anything about the discrepancies he’d found in TCC’s accounting. Huntington and his band of tight-wads managed the accounting for the club—namely the money they got from fundraisers and endowments. And everybody knew his group kept a tight squeeze on TCC’s money supply. If there was anything wrong with the club’s funds, they would know it. But still…

  “Darius? What is it?”

  Darius breathed in deeply. “Nothing,” he finally said, deciding not to jump to any conclusions about the discrepancies until he’d had a chance to look at them more carefully.

  “How are things going with you and Summer Martindale?”

  Darius frowned. “You talk as if we’re a couple.”

  “Aren’t you?” Lance countered.

  “Not yet.”

  There must have been something in his voice that gave him away.

  “I don’t know what your plans are regarding her, Darius, but be careful. They can backfire on you. If you’re going to pursue her, then you need to forget about what happened seven years ago and move on.”

  Darius didn’t say anything for a moment and then admitted, “I can’t.”

  “You should try, man. When the shit blows up in your face, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Today I came prepared,” Darius said, glancing down at his feet.

  Summer followed his gaze and noted he had removed his boots and was now wearing a pair of leather loafers. That meant he had come to the shelter today prepared to walk over to the café, and had assumed she would have lunch with him. She wasn’t sure whether she liked the fact that he’d known she would give in.

  She returned her gaze to his face. “So I see. You’re ready?”

  “I’m always ready, Summer.”

  She had absolute confidence in the truth of that statement. “Excuse me for a second. I need to let Marcy know I’m leaving.”

  She walked over to Marcy’s desk. Marcy was in her late fifties and was someone Summer had become close to since working at the shelter. “I’m going to lunch now, Marcy.”

  Marcy smiled. “Okay. Did you ever get that dripping faucet at your house fixed?”

  Summer shook her head. “Not yet, but I better do so soon, since it’s keeping me from getting a good night’s sleep.” She then turned to rejoin Darius and together they left the building to walk over to the café for lunch. Her morning had been busy and she needed time away from the shelter. She always enjoyed her lunch, at least whenever she could make time for it.

  It was a beautiful day and for some reason, Summer couldn’t push aside the pleasurable sensations she was feeling with Darius beside her. She felt lucky today. She had counseled two women that morning and after listening to their stories, a part of her felt blessed that she had cut her ties with Tyrone when she had, otherwise she could have been one of them. And although Tyrone had caused unnecessary drama that had landed him behind bars for twenty years, she was free to make choices about her life. Now it was her job to convince those two women they could make choices about their lives, as well.

  “So, how has your day been so far?” Darius asked.

  She began sharing bits and pieces of how busy she’d been as they continued their walk to the café. Although his legs were a lot longer than hers, he adjusted his steps to keep in line with hers. More than once, while sharing her ideas about a number of things she would like to see happen at the shelter, she would glance up and see how absorbed he was in what she was saying. They were ideas she hadn’t shared with Kevin Novak for not wanting to overwhelm the man since everything she had in mind included a hefty price tag. But they were expenditures she felt would greatly benefit the women who sought refuge at the shelter.

  Then, while it was on her mind, she asked about his brother, something she should have done long before now since she knew how close the two of them were. Like her, he had lost his parents at an early age, and he and his brother had been raised by their grandmother.

  “Ethan is doing fine now.”

  She opened her mouth to ask what he meant by that when suddenly a warm, masculine arm snaked around her waist to stop her from stepping in a rut in the cement sidewalk. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said, releasing her.

  Summer tried to ignore the sensations that raced through her veins at his touch. When they reached the café and he opened the door, she quickly moved past him, wondering how she was go
ing to get through her meal.

  Kate Thornton Brody smiled up at Darius. “You need a woman in your life,” she said.

  Darius lifted a brow, wondering where that had come from. He glanced across the living room and shot Lance a questioning look, but all his friend did was smile and shrug his shoulders. Damn, he hadn’t been in the house five minutes and already Kate was on him about being single.

  Seeing that Lance wouldn’t be giving him much help, Darius reached out and placed a friendly arm around Kate’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, you know I prefer being single.”

  She gave him one of her sidelong looks that said she’d taken what he’d said with a grain of salt. “So did Lance at one time.”

  “But now he has you and he’s a lucky man,” Darius said truthfully. He had known Kate ever since she began working for Lance as his very competent administrative assistant when he took over Brody Oil and Gas a few years back, and had always liked her.

  “What’s for dinner? I’m starving,” he quickly said, before Kate could make another comment about the state of his affairs or lack of them.

  “Didn’t you eat lunch?” Lance asked, finally moving off the sofa.

  Lance’s question reminded him of Summer…not that he could forget. He hated admitting that whenever he had lunch with her, it was a pleasant experience. She was a great conversationalist. Always had been. And today she’d seemed more relaxed with him, more at ease. And as usual, she had looked beautiful sitting across from him.

  “Yes, I had lunch,” he finally said. “A salad.”

  Humor lit Lance’s eyes. “A salad? What kind of foolishness is that?”

  “Don’t let Lance tease you, Darius. There’s nothing wrong with eating a salad,” Kate said, walking back toward the kitchen.

  When she was gone, Lance looked at him and chuckled. “I take it you had lunch with Summer.”

  Darius met Lance’s amused look. “What makes you think that?”

  “She’s the salad girl.”

  Darius couldn’t help but smile. When he’d left Houston because of Ethan’s accident, Lance had shown up in Charleston to give him the support he needed. It was during that time that he had told Lance all about Summer, even how much she liked eating salads.

  “I’d like to meet her. Invite her over one—”

  “It’s not that kind of relationship, Lance, and you know it,” he said quickly, deciding to squash any foolish ideas that might be floating around in his best friend’s head.

  “Whatever you say,” Lance said, smiling.

  “I’m serious, Lance.”

  “Of course you are. I believe you.”

  Darius frowned. He could tell his friend really didn’t believe him. “It’s hard to love someone who has hurt you deeply,” he said.

  The amusement disappeared from Lance’s face. “I’m glad everyone doesn’t feel that way, Darius, or I wouldn’t have Kate as my wife. If you recall, I almost lost her when I announced my engagement to another woman. But she still found it in her heart to give me another chance.”

  Darius’s frown deepened. “So, what are you trying to say?”

  Lance held his friend’s gaze. “What I’m trying to say is that if you love someone, there can always be forgiveness.”

  “I really appreciate you walking me out to my car again, Barney, but it’s really not necessary,” Summer said to the security guard at her side.

  “No problem, Ms. Martindale. Besides, it’s Mr. Franklin’s orders.”

  Summer shook her head, still not sure how Darius could give orders when he wasn’t paying the man’s salary. She was just about to ask Barney how that was possible when he suddenly said, “Someone has slashed your tires.”

  “What?”

  “Your tires,” he said, pointing his flashlight on her car. “They’ve been slashed.”

  Summer followed the beam of light and saw what he was talking about. She hauled in a deep breath, recalling the last time her tires had been slashed and who had been responsible. She forced herself to calm down as old fears tried to resurface.

  That was all seven years ago. Tyrone was locked up and couldn’t touch her. More than likely, the husband or significant other of one of the women at the shelter was venting his anger on her since the shelter was standing in the way of the person he really wanted to take it out on. But it couldn’t be Samuel Green, since he was still locked up, held without bond.

  “I need to follow procedures and report this to the police, Ms. Martindale,” Barney was saying, interrupting her thoughts. “Please come back inside while I contact the authorities and complete an incident report.”

  Summer turned her attention away from her tires. “Yes, of course.”

  She moved to follow him back inside. She’d heard reports of acts of revenge being directed at staff members who work with victims of violence. Incidents of rock throwing, drive-by shootings and even bomb threats had been reported. As far as she was concerned, the person who damaged her tires was nothing but a bully.

  “Are you all right, Ms. Martindale?” Barney asked with concern when they had reached the door to go back inside.

  She forced a smile on her lips. “Yes, I’m fine.” She heard the words she’d just spoken, but wasn’t sure she believed them herself.

  Seven

  “What’s this about your tires getting slashed last night?”

  Summer glanced up and saw Darius leaning in her office doorway. News had spread quickly. The evening crew from last night had a lot to share with the staffers that had arrived that morning. She’d figured he would hear about the incident sooner or later. She wished it had been later, since she really didn’t want to talk about it right now.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the story, Darius, and I’m not in the mood to rehash it.”

  “Humor me,” he said, crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him. She couldn’t help but study his features. There was something different about his eyes. Their darkness was still striking, but now they contained an element of hardness she hadn’t seen since that first day he had discovered her working at the shelter. And his lips were pressed together in a tight line. On most days, it wouldn’t take much to look at his lips and remember how they had introduced her to pleasures of the most decadent kind in a single night.

  “I’m listening.”

  Summer blinked. While she had been staring at him, probably like a lust-crazed woman, he had taken a seat in the chair in front of her desk. She leaned back, trying to relax under the intensity of his direct gaze, but found it difficult to do so.

  “What you’ve already heard is probably correct,” she started. “Barney walked me out to the car like he’s been doing since that incident with Samuel Green and noticed my tires had been slashed. We came back inside, called the police to report it and he filled out an incident report. End of story.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She heard the near growl in his voice. He was angry, she could tell. And she knew his anger was not directed at her but at whomever had slashed her tires. Given his mood, that was a comforting thought.

  “I want to find out who did it,” he said in the same tone of voice. “What did the police say?”

  She shrugged. “Not much. They would have liked a list of the women residing here to check out the names of husbands and boyfriends, but because of our confidentiality policy, we couldn’t provide it for them. I contacted the TCC earlier today to see if we cou
ld have two guards here at night instead of one.”

  “I thought there were two guards here since the night of that incident with Green.”

  “That lasted all but two days before one of them was pulled. Evidently, the TCC rehashed the idea and felt only one was needed. That’s why I called them—to see if they would reconsider since the staff members around here were beginning to get nervous. However, the man I spoke with at the TCC said adding an additional guard wasn’t going to happen.”

  “Who did you talk to?”

  “I asked for Kevin Novak but the person I talked to was an older gentleman by the name of Sebastian Huntington.” She saw his jaw twitch. “You know him.”

  “Yes, I know him.”

  Summer noticed that he’d said the words in a tight voice with more than a little distaste. “He wasn’t very friendly,” she added. “Nothing at all like Mr. Novak.”

  He didn’t say anything but from the way he was looking at her, she knew he was taking it all in. And then he asked, “Is there anything else?”

  She shook her head. “No, nothing other than the piece of paper that had been placed on my car, which I also mentioned to the police last night.”

  He lifted a brow, his posture on full alert. “What paper?”

  “One night last week someone placed a note under the wiper blade. Barney had walked me to my car, and he pulled it off and gave it to me, thinking it was some kind of sales flyer. It wasn’t until I stopped at a traffic light and glanced at it did I notice what it said.”

  “And what did it say?” he asked, leaning closer and moving toward the edge of his seat.

  She swallowed, remembering precisely what was written in bold letters on the paper. “It said, ‘I take care of my own.’”

  The moment Darius left Summer’s office he darted into an empty conference room and called Kevin. He picked up on the second ring. “This is Kevin.”