The Detective’s Undoing

by Jill Shalvis

  But as she looked into Cade’s melting brown eyes, eyes that were filled with questions, she swallowed hard.

  She could trust him.

  The thought came from nowhere and was quickly squelched.

  With one click of his tongue, Cade moved his horse right next to hers. “Why were you crying last night?” he asked bluntly.

  She closed her eyes, blocking out the pretty but too-cool autumn sun, the breeze and his too-curious gaze.

  “Was it Jacob?”

  She didn’t—couldn’t—answer.

  “You don’t have to go meet him alone,” Cade said as if she’d responded. “Your sisters—”

  “It’s too expensive.” And none of them had a spare cent to their name. “And then there’s the upcoming opening. Plus, we’ll have guests soon.”

  “You need support for this.”

  “I can handle it.” She could handle anything.

  “So strong.” He gave her a look that said he saw right through her. “You can do it all, right?”

  “Yes.”

  He shook his head. “No one is that strong.”

  “I am.”

  He stared at her until she felt that odd fluttering in her stomach. It annoyed her since she could see nothing in his gaze but his irritation at the worry he didn’t want to feel for her.

  It was ironic that once upon a time she’d wished for a prince to solve all her problems, but life had taught her the hard way that she needed to be self-reliant—at all times. She would handle this, by herself.

  And besides, Cade was no prince.

  “Delia—”

  “Look, I don’t know why you won’t just drop it.” She felt more desperate than ever, but her voice was sure and calm. Her voice was always sure and calm, thanks to years of practice.

  “I can’t,” he said with real regret.

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t shake the feeling that…that you need me.”

  She managed to laugh at that and toss her head. “I don’t need anyone, Cade, especially you.”

  “Yeah. I can see that.” Not a man to hide his feelings for anyone, his voice was tight. She’d stirred his male pride.

  In a way, Delia admired him for showing her that. With Cade, she never had to guess what he was thinking, not when his face expressed every emotion, even when he obviously didn’t want to feel that emotion.

  What would it be like not to worry what people thought? To just be? Delia didn’t have a clue. She’d been playing at being strong and independent for so long she no longer knew how to do anything else.

  “It’s not a bad thing, needing someone,” he said after a long moment, and because she’d often wondered about that very thing, she closed her eyes.

  She thought she felt a light caress in her hair, but when she opened her eyes again, he held his reins in one hand, the other lay on his thigh.

  It must have been the wind, she decided.

  Cade was a man seemingly at rest. Yet power and restless energy emanated from him in waves. There was a dangerous edge to Cade McKnight, one she didn’t understand. For all his casual smiles and laughter, there remained a part of him always prepared for anything. Maybe it was the bright day or the isolation, but she thought she saw a surprising depth to that edge now, and it made her take a good long look at him.

  He looked back just as steadily, without a hint of discomfort.

  Hurt, she realized, startled. He was hiding a wealth of hurt, just beneath his rough surface, and this unexpected side to the man she’d thought of only as a pain-in-her-own-rear was unsettling.

  She looked away first.

  The day around them was gloriously white, green, blue—a whole array of colors so brilliant that her eyes welled with stinging tears. It almost hurt to breathe, the air was so cold and crisp and pure.

  So different from Los Angeles where she’d worked all her life in busy upscale beauty salons. Yes, she most definitely missed everything about it, especially the weather. Right now, she couldn’t remember what fifty degrees felt like, much less seventy.

  And God help her, it was only October.

  But her sisters were here, she reminded herself. They loved it and she loved them. It would also be the perfect place to raise the brother she’d never known existed—if she could ever get Jacob here from Los Angeles.

  That, unfortunately, depended on Cade’s help. And he didn’t even know it yet.

  “We going to ride?” Cade asked lightly.

  “Yes.” She drew a deep breath and urged Betsy to walk. The stark wild land before her was the most incredible she’d ever seen, she’d give it that much. When they’d first arrived, the Triple M had been nothing more than two run-down barns and a house ready to collapse.

  Over the past few months she and her sisters, along with Ty Jackson, their neighbor and now Zoe’s fiancé, had worked their fingers to the bone and their bank accounts to the limit. Due to inexperience and lack of funds, they’d been forced to give up the idea of ranching. Instead, they’d opened a guest ranch.

  It was harder than anything she’d ever done, and if she was in an admitting sort of mood, she’d have to say it was also the most rewarding thing she’d ever done.

  Now, looking over the land they’d worked so hard on, Delia felt a fierce surge of pride for what they’d accomplished.

  It was all thanks to Constance Freeman, a woman she hadn’t gotten the chance to meet, but who could have been her paternal grandmother. Family.

  In a shocking move, Cade came close and cupped her jaw in his leather-gloved hand, gently but firmly bringing up her chin so that she was forced to look at him. “You’re a million miles away and you don’t want to talk about it, right?”

  “Right.”

  To soothe her, or maybe to combat the glare she knew she’d shot him, his thumb slid over the skin of her cheek once, then again. Her skin rippled in reaction to the touch that should have been impersonal, but wasn’t.

  Not even close.

  With his hand on her, his eyes hot and intense, it became difficult to think, much less speak. His big body sat in the saddle as if he were born to it, his long, loose limbs at rest, but as the master of control, Delia wasn’t fooled.

  The darkly handsome man was battle-ready.

  For her.

  For some reason, that shot a pure undeniable thrill through her. Control, she reminded herself. She had it. Or she had, until Scott Felton, Jacob’s caseworker, had informed her of the possible trouble she was in for, since the courts were happy with Jacob’s current custody situation. Jacob’s father had originally had custody, but then he’d died and custody had gone to Delia’s mother. When she’d died as well, years later, with no will, Jacob had had to move again. He’d nearly gone into the welfare system when they’d finally located a distantly related aunt. No judge wanted to uproot the boy yet again, especially for someone Jacob didn’t even know.

  But Delia wanted her brother safe and sound, and with her. She thought she might know how he felt, for she’d been five years old when she’d been left in a group home. Those first years had been spent dreaming of a family taking her and making her theirs.

  It hadn’t happened.

  Most people didn’t want a little kid, they wanted a baby.

  Back then, Delia had decided she didn’t care. She had Zoe and Maddie, and they were more than enough.

  All their lives, they’d had nothing but each other. They’d survived. Zoe had done it by being unruly and defensive, and tough when she had to be. Maddie had done it by being quiet and reserved. Accepting.

  Delia had survived by masking her emotions so thoroughly that no one could see what she was feeling or thinking. She donned this protective mask every day, just as she did her makeup and clothes. It was a part of her. She needed no one, and no one needed her.

  But now she had a brother—eight-year-old Jacob. He was alone, too, or had been. That gave them a kinship she couldn’t ignore. Yet it went deeper than that, far deeper.

&
nbsp; For the first time in Delia’s life, she faced the truth…she needed to be needed by someone. Yes, she had her sisters, and yes, they loved one another with all their hearts.

  But they were independent.

  Jacob was too young for that. He was just a child, and needing was part of his life.

  Yet whenever she called him, which had been daily, he’d been distant, reserved. She understood.

  Still, protective feelings welled up. So did frustration and, yes, a good amount of bitterness and humiliation, for her mother hadn’t left a will. She’d left no information about her other child—Delia.

  She’d meant that little to her own mother.

  As a result, she was last in line for Jacob now. And because of his sizable inheritance from his deceased father, the court was doubly leery of Delia’s request. It didn’t help that she didn’t have a penny to her name. She worked sixty hours a week trying to make a success of their guest ranch, but the fact remained—she was a poor nobody.

  It was natural to think of Constance’s inheritance, the one Delia hadn’t cared about until now. If she was owner of the Triple M…well, that would be different, right? She’d have collateral, a real job. Importance.

  The court would have to consider her seriously then. As much as she hadn’t wanted to believe it, money did make the world go around.

  The wind blew, making her shiver. Reminding her that she was all too mortal. Reminding her that she was nearly twenty-six years old and still wishing for her prince to save her. He’d sure come in handy now, because no one could laugh at her if she was married to royalty. He’d be mature and kind. He’d love her above all else.

  He would not be big and broody and tough and rugged.

  He would not be rowdy and mischievous.

  He would not be anything like Cade McKnight.

  “I’m done riding,” she said.

  “You mean you’re done with me.”

  “Nothing personal,” she muttered.

  Which had him letting out a grim laugh. “Like hell.” But he turned his horse away without another word, almost as if he was just as eager as she to be alone.

  They made it halfway back to the ranch in silence. She watched the landscape, and Cade watched her. She felt his gaze on her hair, her face. Her body.

  She was used to men staring at her. Men had always stared at her since she’d hit maturity—it was a fact of life. She was five foot eight, willowy yet curvy, and blond. And yes, she supposed, beautiful.

  To her, it was a curse.

  But Cade’s gaze was different, she had to admit. It made her feel funny, rubbery in her limbs, liquidy in parts of her anatomy she didn’t usually pay attention to. And if a portion of her, a deep private portion, tingled with a strange anticipation, she could ignore it.

  She was not attracted to him.

  “I’m your friend, Delia,” Cade said into their awkward silence. “Or I could be.”

  It was just a word—friends. There was no reason for her heart to tip on its side.

  No reason at all.

  “We’re not. You usually ignore me, and if you don’t, we can hardly stand in the same room without shooting sparks off each other.”

  The expression on his face made her toes curl.

  “You going to deny it?” she pressed.

  He let out a short almost baffled laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Hell, no. Maybe I used to be able to ignore you. But then I found you crying in the kitchen. It’s the funniest damn thing, but now I can’t get that out of my mind. And yeah, we shoot sparks off each other, enough to light up the city of Boise with electricity for a year, and it only seems to get worse.”

  She nodded, satisfied.

  Then he shattered that satisfaction. “But lust tends to do that.”

  “Who said anything about…”

  “Lust?” His crooked grin was appealing enough to coax one out of a saint. “Because you do realize that’s what those sparks are, right?”

  “Dream on, McKnight.” She pulled back on the reins and was grateful when her horse actually stopped. “This isn’t about lust or even friendship.”

  Cade stopped his horse, as well, again with no visible sign or word. “What, then?”

  “Ego.”

  “Ego?” He looked shocked.

  “Foolish male pride. Whatever you want to call it.”

  He stared at her for a second, then threw back his head and laughed. The rich sound echoed around them while she gritted her teeth.

  Eventually his amusement died and he sighed as he wiped away a tear of mirth. “I’m not certain what kind of jerks you were used to in L.A. But out here in the real world—” he snagged her reins and pulled her horse in close “—we do things different.”

  With one hand in front of her holding the leather, his other behind her bracing himself on the seat of her saddle, he leaned close. So close she could see that his eyes weren’t just dark brown as she’d thought, but layered with golden specks that danced with the sunlight. So close she could smell the one-hundred-percent male scent of him.

  So close she could do nothing but catch her breath and stare, feeling completely surrounded.

  Held.

  Good Lord, he just might be right about the lust part. “A man is a man,” she managed, proud of her steady voice.

  “Wrong,” he whispered. “And any time you want me to show you how different some men can be…” His voice had gone husky. His gaze dipped to her mouth, made her tummy flutter again. “You just tell me.”

  “Never going to happen.” Her voice wasn’t so steady now.

  He noticed and, damn him, his lips quirked. “Never say never.”

  She thought it would be safe to say it in this case, but she wisely kept her mouth shut.

  And they rode the rest of the way back to the Triple M in complete silence.

  Chapter 2

  The Triple M Guest Ranch was to be open from Thursday to Sunday every week. Originally they hadn’t planned to accept guests during the autumn and winter months at all, but financial problems had forced them to give it a try.

  The reservations had started to trickle in, giving the sisters tentative hope of success.

  The rumor was, autumn in Idaho was heaven on earth. At least that’s what their brochure claimed. And for those who enjoyed the unique—and drastic—weather, it was true.

  Delia didn’t get it.

  The spiders were huge, the air so cold it hurt to breathe and the water so soft she couldn’t do a thing with her hair.

  But she absolutely loved being with her sisters, loved watching them get a kick out of life for a change, and there was no denying that they loved this existence.

  She’d learn to love it, too, she decided. For them. So she carried bug spray, wore lots of warm layers and kept her hair pulled back so she couldn’t see it.

  Now she walked through the large ranch house, which they’d worked so hard on to clean up. What a job that had been. Everything had been in a sorry state of repair when they’d first arrived last summer. With little more than the clothes on their backs, they’d been sorely challenged to make a go of it, but no one was better at surviving than Zoe, Maddie and Delia.

  Delia’s boots clicked on the clean but scarred wood floors. Around her, the house creaked in the wind, a happy sort of sound. She stopped at the hall telephone, thinking she’d like to call Jacob, but it was too late. Besides, one more strained phone call between them and she might break. She had to remain strong. It gave her hope.

  She moved to the sliding glass door in the living room, which led to the wraparound deck. They had one week until their grand opening, and aside from the sound of the wind in the eaves, the house was quiet and peaceful.

  Normally Delia loved whatever time she could grab for herself, but now she had too much time to think.

  It didn’t help that Cade was still on the ranch, driving her to distraction with his light teasing and hot eyes. He was nothing but a thorn in her side, but granted, he was t
he sexiest thorn she’d ever had. Thank God he wasn’t a man to stay in one place long enough for a post office to find him. He’d be off soon, she was sure of it. That was how he was made, with a powerful wanderlust she would never understand.

  He scared her, she forced herself to admit, resting her forehead against the glass and staring out into the deep dark night. He definitely scared her. After all, Delia needed no one and had made sure no one needed her. As a result, she’d bent people to her will with little to no effort. Teachers, friends. Men.

  But not Cade McKnight.

  He was truly his own man, one who refused to bow to any authority except his own.

  It was frightening to realize she could never control a man like that. But no matter. Despite what he’d said about no longer being able to ignore her, she could still ignore him.

  Needing air, regardless of how cold it was, she stepped out into the night, onto the deck that Ty had recently rebuilt. She heard bubbles, which she knew came from the newly installed hot tub, and she followed the sound in search of her sisters, seeking what only they had been able to give her.

  Acceptance.

  She found Zoe and Ty blissfully immersed in the steaming water, entwined. They were kissing—a deep passionate kiss that made Delia sigh theatrically even as something deep within her yearned. “Don’t you guys ever do anything other than connect your mouths?”

  Ty lifted his wet head and shot her a wicked grin. “Uh-huh.”

  Zoe smacked him lightly on his chest and smiled up at her sister. “Come on in, Dee. It feels terrific on sore muscles.”

  Ty’s grin faded. “You hurt something?”

  His concern was touching…and embarrassing, considering it was her bottom that hurt the most from the unaccustomed riding. Zoe and Ty did most of the physical work on the ranch, working the horses and their small herd of cattle. Maddie ran the kitchen, providing all meals. Delia’s job was managing the reservations and the front desk, which included checking people in and out and keeping up the house.

  It wasn’t very physical—anyone could have done it. Which was the root of most of her guilt, because she didn’t feel she was pulling her weight. She didn’t belong and she knew that; she just couldn’t admit it to her sisters.