by Riley Knight
And then, as if from nowhere, there were strong arms wrapped around him, dragging him into the safety of his own car. Kyle had no idea if it would be enough. The demon-cow was big enough that he thought it could probably rip apart the car in a split second if it wanted to.
There were still arms, warm and strong, around his waist. The smell of aftershave, of clean sweat, of leather, filled his nose, and slowly, very slowly, Kyle turned his head to look into the most stunning round, gorgeous pair of dark-green eyes that he had ever seen.
TWO
“Goddamn,” Mary Anne whistled softly under her breath, and the hammer which she had been clenching in her hand fell slack. Irritated, Malcolm raised his eyes, a rebuke on his lips, because it wasn’t like he could just stand there holding this plank of wood forever, and she had been the one to insist that she wanted to learn how to repair fences properly so that she could help out more.
“Focus,” Malcolm insisted, and then he raised his eyes, just out of curiosity, to see just what she was looking at.
It was a mistake—a huge mistake.
The man who was getting out of the car was nothing short of the most gorgeous human being that Malcolm had seen. Pale skin, dark, thick hair that looked black until the sun hit it, and then it blazed with red and gold highlights, perfectly oval face, pretty pink lips, the man was just flat out the sort of guy who was, thankfully for Malcolm, not the type who normally would be drawn to Kansas. Not with those expensive shoes and that suit that probably cost more than Malcolm made in a week.
The man was small and neat and graceful, and Malcolm found himself wondering what color his eyes were. Or what his body looked like under that stupid, fussy suit. It was just a brief, ridiculous moment, and then his self-preservation kicked in again, but he couldn’t tell himself that he hadn’t stared, even if just for a few seconds.
“Mal, look.” There was a tone of fear in Mary Anne’s voice, and that was what finally made Malcolm look away from the stranger. Mary Anne was a tough girl, and it took a fair bit to spook her.
When he saw what had caused it, though, he understood immediately why it would freak her out so much. Swearing softly, but viciously, Malcolm was in motion in a second. He didn’t think—there was no time for that—he just acted. He had no idea why Lucifer was out of his pen, but the enormous bull was bad-tempered at the best of times.
It might have been okay if not for the stranger, but when the man screamed, that was when all hell broke loose. Any chance of calming the animal down went right out the window, and all Malcolm could think about was getting the man to safety before he was trampled to death.
He didn’t even notice what it was like to have his arms around him. Not at first, when it was all adrenaline and risk and the potential for being trampled to death by an angry bull. Malcolm went into a pure flight or fight mode, and it was only when they were safely in the car, out of sight of the furious animal, that he became aware that he had a very desirable, very beautiful, man in his arms.
A man that he had been, it had to be said, lusting after from the moment that he had laid eyes on him.
“Why did you scream? You freaked him out,” Malcolm asked, and his eyes met the strangers. Just like that, he had the answer to the question that he had asked himself before. The man, whoever he was, had soft, enormous, beautiful brown eyes, round and thickly-lashed, eyes that were somehow even more lovely than the rest of him and that was saying something.
This close, Malcolm realized, he could see everything about this man. He should have been able to see some flaws, for instance, but there was nothing. Just those remarkable eyes, smooth pale skin, and the narrow, full-lipped mouth, parted with shock. The man’s heart was hammering, which Malcolm could feel even through the layers of clothing separating them.
The question came out a little more exasperated than Malcolm meant it to, and he felt the guy stiffen under him, clearly offended. How much more offended would he be, Malcolm allowed himself to muse for just a second, if he knew how impossibly, incredibly sexy Malcolm found him?
“Get off me,” the man growled, and his voice was, unfortunately, just as perfect as the rest of him. A deep, rich baritone, it seemed to suit his dark, dramatic good looks to perfection. His demand, Malcolm had to admit, was fair enough, considering that he had tackled the man onto his back in the backseat of the car and had yet to roll off of him. “I screamed because an angry furry monster tried to kill me.”
Malcolm scoffed as he squirmed around, trying to shift off of the man, but it was sort of close quarters. And rubbing against someone who was so incredibly attractive, that was pretty much the last thing that Malcolm should be doing, especially when the guy seemed unhappy with the situation.
“Hold still for a second and I will,” Malcolm demanded, and then he finally managed to shift to the side, squished on the floor of the car, long enough that the other guy could sit up. Only in the second before he pulled away, he could almost swear that he felt something pressing hard against his hip.
Well, it was probably the man’s phone, not anything else. As secretly and shamefully thrilling as it was to think about this utterly stunning man with an erection, that was not the most likely reason that this was going on, and he knew it.
Even assuming someone like this stranger would be into men at all, it seemed ludicrous to think that he might be into him. This was a man who gave off the impression of being snobby about wine which had flavors of chocolate and aged oak or whatever the hell else wine could have the flavors of, whereas the only good thing that Malcolm could say about wine was that it got him drunk sometimes if there was no beer around.
As the smaller man sat up, Malcolm shifted up onto the seat again, peering out the window. Lucifer, who was the reason that all of this had happened, the reason that Malcolm was in this excruciating situation with this impossibly beautiful man, was still stampeding around, while the longtime housekeeper Anna stood with her arm around her daughter, frantically trying to usher her into the house though it was clear that the strong-headed teenager would have much rather gotten involved in wrangling the bull.
Logan, Malcolm’s second-in-command and best friend since they were kids, was already trying to get the bull under control, but as brave and strong as the man was, this was not a job for one man, no matter how experienced he was.
“Wait here,” he ordered the stranger, not even looking at him. It was better that way. He couldn’t deal with how attractive he found the guy when that bull was loose, not that he was sure that he could deal with it even under the most ideal situations. When he had a second, he would have to think about how to get him out of here. There was too much work to do for Malcolm to let himself moon around after some guy, not to mention that it would be quite the surprise to everyone he knew if he did.
No time to think about that then, though. Not when he was slipping out of the car and sprinting to the barn, saddling his favorite mare, Blaze, as quickly and efficiently as possible. He grabbed a coil of rope and rode out, hearing Logan’s noises of frustration and knowing that, as quick as he had been, it was none too soon.
Once it was him and Logan working together, though, poor Lucifer really had no chance. It was an old method, maybe, but one that still worked, for them to lasso the huge beast and lead him back, bellowing his outrage, to his enclosure.
Which wasn’t broken, it seemed. Malcolm had been sure that Lucifer had kicked down a weak part of the fence, although that had seemed strange to him because he always double and triple checked it to make sure that it was strong enough. The fence was fine. It was the gate standing wide open that had let the bull out, and when he’d seen the stranger, the ornery creature had immediately gotten riled up.
So who in the ever-loving hell would be stupid enough to leave the gate open? That was the real question, and Malcolm frowned as he and Logan released Lucifer inside of his pen and very carefully shut and latched the gate after him.
“That’s weird,” he informed Logan, as they checked t
he enclosure once more, just for good measure, and then started to ride back toward the house. “Why did someone let him out?”
“Maybe something brushed the gate and it wasn’t latched properly.” Logan, normally the kind of guy who didn’t take too much seriously, was frowning, and Malcolm knew that his own words didn't convince him. Still, Malcolm had to shrug. It was possible, he supposed. And more likely than anyone doing it on purpose.
As they rode up back toward the house, and beyond it, the barn, Malcolm was pulled out of his thoughts by Logan’s low whistle.
“Who’s that guy?” his tall, muscular best friend asked, cobalt blue eyes fixed ahead of him. Malcolm fought back a groan. He would like to be able to say that he had completely forgotten about the newcomer, whoever he was, but the truth was, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him ever since he’d first laid eyes on him. Which only pissed him off more.
“Beats the hell outta me.” Malcolm looked away from his best friend and to where the man was still standing by his car, looking fussy and uncomfortable and out of place, dust clinging to the bottom of his expensive-looking suit. Once more, it struck him as pretty thoroughly unfair that someone this gorgeous could exist in the world. He had never understood the concept of someone taking his breath away, but if anyone did, it would be this man.
And he didn’t even know the guy’s name.
“Let’s go find out,” Logan suggested, which made Malcolm shrug a little. Hopefully, it seemed like he didn’t much care either way, because the absolute last thing he needed was to be teased for having some stupid crush and on a man, too, of all things.
So he had little choice but to ride up with Logan, though he stayed on top of his horse even as Logan swung down out of the saddle.
“Hey there.” To Malcolm’s surprise, Logan’s voice had a tone to it that, at first, Malcolm couldn’t figure out until he realized that he had heard Logan speaking like that to women before. Women he was trying to pick up.
Wait. What?
“Hello,” the other man replied, his voice a bit cautious, but nowhere near as venomous as it had been when he’d been speaking to Malcolm during their very quick conversation earlier. “Is one of you Malcolm Hart?”
Shaking away the odd thoughts he was having about Logan’s reaction, Malcolm shot a terse nod toward the man who had addressed him. A banker, maybe? He could be a banker, in that suit, but there didn’t seem to be any reason for a banker to contact him.
“That’d be me,” he acknowledged and then tried to tell himself that his heart didn’t feel lighter in his chest when the man turned away from Logan and toward Malcolm. It was a stupid thing to be happy about, anyway. It wasn’t like the man’s face was any friendlier than it had been before.
Actually, the look on that exquisite face was clear as day, easy to read as if the man’s thoughts were actually written on his features. In bold print. All caps.
The man was thinking, great, of course it would be this way. Well, Malcolm wasn’t any happier about it. It would have been much easier for him if he had been able to simply ride away and let someone else deal with this distractingly sexy man with the uptight posture and bad attitude.
“Mr. Hart. I’m Kyle Mercer.” The small, distractingly gorgeous man offered his hand, and Malcolm bowed to the inevitable and swung down out of his saddle. A handshake was going to be sort of hard to pull off, with him being so tall and Kyle being so short, with him mounted.
He really, really didn’t want to touch this man. Not when he felt like his body was still tingling from the last time that they had touched. But he reached out his hand and braced himself as his fingers curled around Kyle’s.
They fit together perfectly, palms lightly brushing, fingers clasping, Kyle’s hand small enough to be engulfed by Malcolm’s much bigger one. Glancing into Kyle’s large, surprisingly expressive dark eyes, Malcolm could swear that he saw the same shock of sensation, almost of recognition, going through them as he suspected was in his own.
Oh, shit.
“What can I do for you?” Malcolm asked. At this point, the fastest, easiest, least embarrassing thing for him was going to be if he got Kyle out of here as soon as possible. Anna and Mary Anne had come out to see what was going on, now that Lucifer was safely back away, and of course, Logan was there, watching with unaccustomed silence, and if anyone was going to figure out the secret that Malcolm had kept for years, it would be Logan, who knew him better than anyone.
“You might regret asking me that,” Kyle shot back, and there was a wicked gleam in his eyes that didn’t, unfortunately, do anything for the attraction that Malcolm was undoubtedly having to him. “Your brother, Wyatt, sent me. So what you can do for me is …”
Not a banker. Probably a real estate agent, and hardly the first one that Wyatt had sent. All of a sudden, it was like the pit of Malcolm’s stomach was stuffed full of lead, and he had to swallow hard before he could speak.
“What I can do for you is to sell the place, which will happen over my dead body. You’re wasting your time, Kyle Mercer, so why don’t you get into your expensive rental car and off of my damn property and go somewhere where you belong?”
It wasn’t polite, and it wasn’t nice, but Malcolm didn’t care about that right at the moment. Even glancing around at the shocked faces of his friends didn’t change much of anything. He was sick of this. So very sick of being harassed by members of his own family to do something that was unthinkable to him.
So he did the only thing he could think of to do. He slid smoothly back into his saddle and rode away, not so much as looking back.
It was that, or he was really going to lose his shit. He was lucky that he had been able to keep his temper as much as he had, especially considering poor Mary Anne, who he knew idolized him, had been standing right there and taking it all in.
As he left, though, he had to admit, in the very quietest, most secret areas of his soul, that he wouldn’t be as annoyed if he hadn’t been so instantly drawn to the asshole, if he hadn’t wanted him on sight so much. If his fingers weren’t still tingling from when they’d gripped hands in that handshake.
Well, he knew better now. He would be on guard against the son of a bitch who had come here to try to take everything from him. Kyle didn’t have a chance, and maybe, just maybe, now that he’d sent Kyle packing, Wyatt would realize that it was all just an exercise in futility.
For the rest of the day, Malcolm kept himself busy, and everyone, probably wisely, left him alone. By the time the sun was dropping down into the sky, painting everything in reds and oranges and golds, Malcolm was doing much better. There was nothing like hard, exhausting work to deal with anger. Not to mention, to get obnoxiously attractive, treacherous men out of his mind. He wasn’t even thinking about Kyle, he told himself, as he stumped back toward the house, muscles worked but not overworked, tired and hungry and ready for dinner. Other than to be glad that the man was gone, of course, but that was only natural, given why Kyle had come.
He’d probably never see the guy again, and that was honestly just fine with Malcolm. Kyle had been dangerous, even before he’d known just why the man had come in the first place. Kyle might be pretty to look at, but he was about as trustworthy as a snake, and Malcolm had never liked snakes very much.
So to say that the absolute last thing that he would have expected when he pushed open the door and walked into the house would be to see Kyle was pretty accurate. But that was exactly what he did see, Kyle sitting with everyone else around the dining room table as though he had every right to be there.
THREE
Well, that had gone splendidly.
It wasn’t necessarily the best quality in the world for a lawyer to have, a sort of blunt, dry wit that tended to come out when Kyle was nervous. In this case, it had clearly come off poorly, given an incredibly bad first impression to Malcolm, who was not only the man that Kyle was supposed to be convincing to sell the ranch but also happened to be the most gorgeous human being th
at Kyle had ever seen.
Seriously, those cheekbones that looked like they could cut diamonds, the beautiful, shiny green eyes, the lush fullness of those sinful lips, it was all just too intense to have that hitting him all at once. It wasn’t normally that hard for him to forget that he was primarily attracted to men, but he couldn’t deny that this man hit pretty much all of his buttons.
It was just as well that Malcolm couldn’t stand Kyle. It made him a little bit less tempting—a little. But it didn’t make his job any easier, and he sighed as he watched the gorgeous cowboy ride away, back straight, head up, and chin tilted high, somehow managing to look annoyed even from the back.
“You might as well come inside,” the middle-aged woman commented, giving Kyle a smile that he wasn’t at all sure that he deserved. But he nodded, holding his tongue for once as she led the way into the house, followed by the teenaged girl. The big ranch hand with the piercing blue eyes had disappeared off, presumably to do whatever horse care stuff was required.
All Kyle knew about horse care was that horses were alive and therefore probably needed care.
“Mary Anne, you have homework to do,” the older woman said, and there was a clear dismissal in her voice. Pouting, the teenager did as she had been told, stumping off while looking over her shoulder as if she’d probably rather not go.
“Sit,” the woman invited, patting the back of a set of mismatched wooden chairs around a big table, right there in the kitchen. On the way through, Kyle had seen that there was another, bigger table out in the living room area, but this was cozy, and he dropped down into the chair as directed. “You’ll probably be hungry, right? Did you fly in, or drive?”
“Flew,” Kyle admitted, and he was surprised to hear his stomach rumbling in response to her question. He was hungry. He hadn’t noticed it, he had been way too keyed up about this meeting to pay any attention to anything else before, not to mention the bull charging at him, that had been more than a little distracting, but his body was insisting that it had been way too long.
