Even with the dulled noises of horses shuffling and birds chirping around him, he heard her sharp, indrawn breath. He watched incredulously as she unlatched the door and stepped in, shutting it behind her. He heard unmistakably her quiet, triumphant, “Rebel!”
Chance approached the stall cautiously, not able to move as quietly as she had. One of the stallions across the way threw his head up and snorted thunderously, annoyed by his presence in the barn. Immediately, he heard Rebel’s hooves strike the wall of his stall, and flinched, hoping he hadn’t endangered AJ. He probably should have stayed back.
“Quiet, boy. Quieto!” Her soft reassurances worked. The stall grew quiet again. Almost immediately, she opened the door and emerged, looking a little abashed. And infinitely content about something—smug, almost. He thought about demanding to know how she knew the stallion. Discarding that idea, he decided instead to string her along. If AJ had an agenda involving Mike Towers’s horses, he needed to know.
“Hi,” she murmured as she finally noticed him.
“‘Hi’?” He parroted her intonation, and she blushed slightly, but met his gaze evenly. “‘Hi’? What the hell were you were doing in a stallion’s stall on Mike Towers’s private property?”
“Doing?” She shrugged, a gesture entirely too appealing, although she wasn’t being deliberately sexy. He was pretty sure she wasn’t. She just couldn’t help herself. He glowered more ferociously, angered that the self-control he prided himself on seemed to slip whenever she approached him.
“I wanted to pet Rebel,” she offered as explanation. Her tone labeled him a fool and deepened his frown. “You must have seen me in there, petting him.”
Chance hesitated, wanting to call her bluff, but again, resisting. “But you know horses,” he pointed out reasonably. “Strangers shouldn’t just walk into a stallion’s stall like that.”
She shrugged again. “Impulse,” she said matter-of-factly. “I told you before—I saw him run. How could I resist?” She seemed to sense his doubt, because she smiled slightly. “As you said,” she reminded him, “I know horses.”
She jerked a hand toward the box down the corridor, where a stallion was still watching them with distrust and occasional, angry puffs. “I didn’t walk into his stall.”
She watched as Chance considered her answer, holding her breath. Hoping that he’d accept her explanation—and that he hadn’t heard her call the horse’s name. Because even though she might have recognized the animal, she’d greeted him with relief—and with love. Two emotions she wouldn’t have showered on a strange horse, even one that she’d seen perform. And Chance Landin, damn him, was undoubtedly sharp enough to realize that.
After a moment, and a glance at the annoyed stallion down the aisle, Chance nodded slowly. “Good choice, then, I guess,” he muttered. He walked close and looked into Rebel’s stall.
The horse came over to them immediately, his regal head lowering as he reached out to nuzzle AJ’s cheek. In spite of her concern over Chance, she smiled and reached to scratch the burnished forehead, then trailed a finger across his brilliant white star. Chance, too, put an arm out, stroking the horse’s shiny neck. The horse jerked his head back, turned to look at Chance, then refocused his attention on AJ.
Chance arched an eyebrow at AJ. “You’re a fast worker,” he murmured, and she frowned.
“I’m not sure I like how that sounds,” she retorted. “But yes … I have a way with horses. Always have.”
“And men?” Chance pressed, but the smile he sent her took most of the insult away.
She shook her head slightly, thinking momentarily of her two-month marriage. “No. Not men.” She couldn’t quite bite back a sigh. Reluctantly, she turned from the stall. “I’m supposed to find you,” she remembered. “Mike’s orders.”
“Really? And here I found you.” He, too, turned from the stall. “Does he want to see me?”
“No.” AJ shook her head, cast a final glance at Rebel, and took a few steps away from the stall. “He left. Didn’t say where, just to let you know. Jaime—I think that’s the name—went with him.”
“Okay.” He started a slow trek back toward the open door of the barn.
“He told me to ask you for a tour of his place.” Demanding the tour made sense, she realized abruptly, even though it would force her into an unwelcome alliance with Chance. But to make good on her plans, she needed to know the layout of the ranch as exactly as possible.
She watched the familiar, involuntary tightening of Chance’s facial muscles, annoyance threatening to make her incautious. His dislike was much too apparent and she wasn’t sure that he believed her story about Rebel, either. She chewed on her lip, weighing her options if he objected to following Mike’s orders.
Chance sighed slightly, glanced around, and then turned his attention back to her. “I should be there at the house,” he said, after a moment. “Keeping an eye on things. Usually, we have a rider or two out checking the fence lines to make sure there aren’t any trespassers, so I don’t go out often.” Then a casual lift of one shoulder, and a wave of his hand. “But orders are orders. What do you want to see?”
Adrenaline surged through her as he agreed. She could get a picture of escape routes. Maybe Mike wouldn’t come back before she could move. She grinned at Chance. “Everything.”
Chapter Five
The horses picked their way carefully down the slope that would lead eventually to the riverbank. The sun beat down, pummeling them, but AJ seemed oblivious to the onslaught of heat. She rode easily, paying Chance scant attention, but looking around with clear interest at her surroundings. He narrowed his eyes slightly.
The personal tour of Mike Towers’s property allowed him a thorough appraisal of the woman riding ahead of him, and he found himself more puzzled—and intrigued—than ever. He had expected that she, like so many other women finagling visits to the Towers estate, had eyes for a potential monetary windfall. Part of the lore about his boss was that he opened his heart—and his purse—without restraint when tempted to do so. Perhaps Chance was short-sighted to have believed so readily that she was just another brazen gold digger. Well, okay. If he’d been far-sighted, he wouldn’t have a failed marriage to his credit.
In fairness, he fully intended, just a few short years ago, to dedicate himself to the world of Thoroughbred racehorses. Learn from his uncle, forget his ex, salvage his life and think only about track surfaces, nutritional supplements, and short, talented men who could ride fast. Becoming Towers’s bodyguard wasn’t part of his original plan.
The irony of his thoughts made him laugh, short and harshly, and he saw AJ look over her shoulder as if he’d lost his mind. Sun glinted in her oddly colored hair and he could see the vibrant emerald eyes stare at him. At least, he imagined he could, although the brim of her visor did a fair job of shading her face. Grinning a little, he nudged his horse into a quicker trot,
catching up. Yes, her eyes were like some molten, precious gemstone, all sparkle and pleasure, in spite of the relentless afternoon heat.
“My riding skills amuse you?” she suggested, not with irritation.
“No.” He tightened the reins slightly, shortening his mount’s stride to stay abreast of AJ. “No, to be honest … I was thinking of jockeys.” Better to admit that than that he found her extraordinarily attractive and would like nothing better than to lean over and—
A sudden dry-leaf rustle from nearby startled them. AJ’s horse danced nervously, but Chance’s big blue roan reared and shied violently, sending Chance sprawling onto the path.
“Sh—” Chance bit off an oath. AJ looked down from her horse, drawing in a sharp breath at the sight of the rattler, its thick body coiled, just feet away.
“Ideas?” she hissed at Chance, fighting the urge simply to kick her horse into full throttle and flee. The chestnut danced, his hooves beating a tattoo on the ground, irritating the snake even more.
“Can you shoot?” Chance hissed back.
She
blinked. “Yes,” she said.
Chance nodded almost imperceptibly. “The pistol. Saddlebag. All Towers’s hands carry them … in case of snakes.”
Keeping one eye on the snake, and trying to find the saddlebag with the other, AJ finally extracted a .22 from the leather pouch, keeping one hand on the reins, and aimed at the reptile. The snake showed no sign that he’d simply slither away. In fact, he seemed to be coiling himself even more tightly, ready to strike.
“Shoot!” Chance demanded hoarsely, and he saw her hand straighten and still, and her finger move slightly on the trigger.
The snake sprang forward in a blur, AJ’s horse shied away, and AJ’s shrill little “iiig!” of alarm raised the hair on his arms. Not “eek,” not a real scream at all, just a shrill, plaintive “iiig!” He’d heard that before, only once, but couldn’t dwell on the source. The rattlesnake slithered off, unharmed. The chestnut bolted and AJ fell. Right on top of his sprawled body. Reflexively, his arms closed around her, steadying her. Clasping her. Instinctively, too, his body reacted to her, hardening with need.
Emerald eyes stared into his own, surprised. Unwary. And very inviting. Lips, slightly puckered, exhaled, the warm, soft kiss of air as erotic as its physical counterpart might have been. And then, just as he decided he’d reach up and kiss those parted lips, her head fell forward. Clunked, really, onto his shoulder, and she shuddered all over.
“I hate snakes,” she murmured against his neck.
“Yeah,” he agreed. Just don’t shudder anymore, okay? His hands moved slightly over her back, comforting her. Keeping her from putting any sunlight between her body and his.
He knew when she sensed his arousal. She shuddered again, then stiffened and moved slightly away. He half expected anger or indignation. Instead, she sighed, then carefully pushed herself to her knees beside him.
“So … ” she said, eventually. “Is this your usual tour when someone asks ‘to see everything’?”
He laughed. “No, AJ. I can assure you … snakes at close range and um … the pebbles and native grasses are only for special gue—visitors.” The word seemed less offensive to him than “guests.” Right now he didn’t want to think about Mike’s interest in AJ.
Reluctantly, he, too, pushed himself up, and began brushing debris from his clothes. AJ watched him briefly before following suit, glancing around as she ran her hands over her arms and swiped at her hips and legs.
“If you’re looking for the horses, I wouldn’t,” he told her wryly. “They’re probably almost back to that air-conditioned stable of theirs.”
“Great!” she muttered. “Now what? I don’t have anything to shoot snakes with!”
He stared at her, open-mouthed, before hooting a derisive, “Thank God for that!”
He turned up the path the horses had taken, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“What’s up?”
“Aren’t we near the river now?” she asked, and he glanced off toward the curtain of scrub trees and grasses that lined the path down.
“Well, yes, but we’re on foot. Our transportation high-tailed it home.”
She made a face. “Can’t walk a few more—what? Miles? Parts of a mile?”
“Yards. But you’ve seen rivers before—even this river.”
“We were on our way when you fell off your horse,” she pointed out. “Why don’t we just walk the—yards, you said? And see the river from Mike’s side. I’ve mostly seen it from the other.”
He tilted his head back a little, thinking. He’d never met a gold digger so interested in things like horses and nondescript river banks. Still, his boss had said to show her everything. She might have to crawl back by the time they finished her tour. He waved a hand at the tangle of vegetation.
“Plow right on in,” he invited. “River’s maybe a thousand yards straight ahead.”
She glanced back and forth from the vegetation to him, then gave him a slight smile.
“Perfect,” she said sweetly. Then she did an about face and plowed right on in.
• • •
Curtains of weeds, stunted bushes, and carrizo reeds weren’t nearly as impenetrable as they looked. AJ wanted to shout out her relief. Rebel could be ridden through here. With any luck, she could just trot him through. She would run him if she had to, but—why worry about worst-case scenarios? He might suffer a few scratches, but unless he tripped and fell, he should be fine. She glanced down to see a tiny trickle of blood on her arm. Not anything to worry about. Rebel had thicker skin than her.
“You’re enjoying this?” Chance’s question conveyed his dislike of the circumstances and she kicked herself mentally for letting her glee show too clearly. She’d just have to convince him she was full of quirks. Shouldn’t be too hard.
“Yes.” She smiled. “Sun on my shoulders, fresh air”—she sniffed before continuing—“touched with the smell of trash burning somewhere, and all this glorious space. I’m loving it.”
He didn’t look convinced, but she forged on ahead, stifling a small gasp of triumph when they burst out onto a clear bank, sloping easily down to the water’s edge.
Rebel can do this. We can do this. She walked all the way down, noticing the relatively clear path and the lack of rocks and roots that could trip a horse.
The Rio Grande stretched out in a placid band here, wide but calm. She could see the rocks under the surface a few feet out from the bank. Those would be the danger. She’d done research and been surprised how deep the river could run. But here, now, with drought conditions and no rain—excitement bubbled through her. Rebel loved water. Her mother used water conditioning with all her runners, and Rebel had hydrotherapy when he strained his left foreleg.
“If you’re thinking about throwing off your boots and bounding in, I wouldn’t,” Chance said behind her. “Low as the river is here, and slow as it’s running right now, there might be an issue with contaminants.”
“Wasn’t planning on going in alone,” AJ retorted, then realized her mistake.
“No?” Chance stepped up beside her. “Mike Towers isn’t here, AJ. So if you don’t plan on swimming alone—”
She didn’t realize quite how close he was until she turned to him, her breasts brushing against him and his arms closing around her for the second time in less than an hour.
“Who are you going in with?” he finished, his breath caressing her from the slight space between them.
She looked away, refusing to answer.
“Mike’s not here,” he said again, then lifted a hand and laid it against her cheek. His calloused fingers moved slightly against her skin, the friction of rough against smooth sparking need.
Swallowing hard, she raised her own hands and spread them against his chest. Under her fingers, under the soft cotton of his worn shirt, she could feel his heart beating. “Back off,” she warned, forcing herself to remember Rebel. And Gina. “I’m Mike’s guest, not yours.”
He did, but the contempt colored his eyes again and she saw his mouth tighten. “Afraid I can’t afford you?”
His words were insulting, but perfect. She wanted him to keep away. Not to tempt her with that burning gaze or unyielding touch.
But behind the contempt, she thought she heard disappointment rather than dislike. Maybe even concern. That was scary, if she wasn’t overanalyzing his words. She couldn’t afford softness. On his part or hers.
She tilted her chin and spoke truthfully. “I can’t afford you, Chance.”
He looked at her a moment longer, then fished a phone out of his pocket.
“I don’t have time to walk you home,” he muttered.
She knew the less time she spent with Chance, the safer her secrets were, and the sooner she could ditch Mike Towers forever.
But she wished they had a little longer anyway.
Chapter Six
A bolt of lightning electrified the night sky, sizzling neon blue against the windowpane. AJ shivered and stepped back. She’d never been a fan of thunde
rstorms. Almost immediately, she thought of Rebel—the high-strung horse hated storms. He’d cut his fetlock badly as a foal, kicking out in terror at his stall walls during one violent summer storm. AJ’s lips quirked slightly at the memory. She had nursed the colt back to health, while Gina had hung around, crooning at Rebel one minute and at her crush of the moment the next. They were little alike, she and Gina, except in their love of horses.
Another vicious flare rattled the windows, and she shuddered. The violent, impulsive movement brought back the memory of Chance’s body beneath her own, stiffening with surprise, then with desire. Gina might have had a world of suitors and a slightly longer marriage, but AJ wasn’t an innocent herself. Chance had wanted her. And she had wanted him. Memory of her head falling weakly to his shoulder, the warmth and smell of him, teased her. Made her own body react impulsively, but she refused to listen to its clamoring. Instead, she went to the closet and fished for anything to use as a shield against the downpour. She’d come too far to let Rebel hurt himself while she trembled with fear. Or need.
• • •
The rain slashed down ferociously. AJ gained half the distance to the stallions’ barn before she even thought of the chance of happening on one of the guard dogs. Would those snarling beasts be out in this mess? And if so, would they attack her? Chance had taken her by the kennels, but warned her not to think that the dogs, docile enough when he barked commands at them, would greet her with wagging tails when on duty.
The dogs weren’t her only concern, though. Blue fire zigzagged through the sky again, startling her, and making her race faster. No point in being a conduit for the next electrical strike. Her legs were wobbling from the exertion and nerves by the time she reached the barn door. She reached out for the handles, her hands wet from the rain, praying that the doors weren’t locked at night. Since grooms—and security, perhaps Chance himself—were likely to check on the horses overnight, hopefully they didn’t bolt the animals inside. Drawing a few, steadying gulps of air, she tugged on one of the ornate brass handles. Silent and precise, the door slid sideways, allowing her to step inside.
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