by Lisa Childs
She glared at him. “I have a confidentiality agreement with my employer.”
“That agreement says you can’t even tell anyone who you work for?”
She nodded.
And he cursed. “Maybe you do work for the CIA, although I can’t imagine what the hell they’d want with this place.” He turned toward the house and shook his head. “I can’t imagine what anyone wants with this place.”
She said nothing but he wasn’t certain if that was because she wasn’t at liberty to say, or if it was because she didn’t know.
“There’s a hell of a lot of work to do here,” he continued. “You can’t handle all of this alone.” Was her employer going to send reinforcements or expect her to do everything herself?
She sighed and nodded. “That’s true. I can’t.”
He widened his eyes in astonishment. “I can’t believe you’re actually admitting you can’t do everything alone.”
She lifted her chin and bristled with pride. “I can do everything...but plumbing and fixing the AC. I need to hire someone to do that.”
“Rafferty Construction—”
“River offered to work here,” Edith said.
“River?” He glanced at the house again, surprised that his brother would consider working here. That he would even want to be around this place and its memories ever again. “He’s been working at the ranch.”
“He said you don’t really need him.”
“That’s not it.” Thorne sighed. “We’ve been taking it easy on him. We don’t know how badly he’s injured.”
She nodded. “He was right.”
“About what?”
“The pity,” she replied. “He thinks everybody pities him.”
They had several reasons for feeling that way. He’d been hurt in the line of duty, and he’d been hurt again when he’d returned home to find out the man he’d believed was his dad wasn’t. A DNA test had confirmed Wes Kingston’s suspicion that he wasn’t River’s father. But nobody knew who was. Maybe not even Livia herself. Poor River...
“Do you pity him?” Thorne asked. “Is that why you’d hire him?”
“I would hire him because I don’t think he’s going to bother me to find out who my boss is,” she said. “I don’t think he’s going to talk to the press, either.”
Thorne chuckled. “That’s the last thing he’d do.” He didn’t want any media attention. That was why they’d all promised to keep it secret that he didn’t know who his father was.
“Can I trust him?” Edith asked.
“I just said he won’t go to the press—”
“I’m not talking about that,” Edith said. “I just want to know that he’s a man I can trust. We’ll be working alone together in this house.”
“Of course,” Thorne said. “River’s a man of honor. A hero.”
“Thanks for being my hero right now,” Edith told him with a hug. But she pulled away from him and headed back toward the house.
Knowing he was being dismissed, Thorne headed toward his truck. As he drove away, he wondered about what he’d told her. He wondered if River could be trusted. His brother had been gone ten years. How well did any of them really know him?
After whatever he’d been through, how well did River even know himself?
Chapter 6
Her hands trembled as she reached for the stallion’s reins. River wasn’t sure which one of them was more skittish, the woman or the horse. Jade expelled a shaky breath and smoothed her hand over the mane. It wasn’t Shadow making his younger sister nervous.
Jade was an expert horsewoman. Hell, she’d been born riding. And she’d trained horses far more temperamental than Shadow.
“What’s wrong?” he asked her as she began to lead the stallion around the pasture outside Mac’s barn. He’d offered to bring the horse to her, but she’d wanted to work with it here. Trailering him was too traumatic, probably bringing up all those times he had been trailered from racetrack to racetrack.
River was able to relate to the traumatic memories. At least his only came back in dreams—when his guard was down and he couldn’t fight them. Edith had helped him fight that morning, when she’d held him. He couldn’t forget the feeling of her bare arms wrapped around him.
But when she’d needed him, after all those reporters had stormed the property, he hadn’t been there for her. He shuddered at the memory of the camera bulbs flashing through the ivy-covered window, of the voices raised with questions. He would rather have faced a firing squad than that. But he hadn’t left until Thorne had shown up to help her.
And she’d had her can of pepper spray for protection. Edith Beaulieu was tougher than her slim build and beauty suggested.
“Where are you?” Jade called out to him, concern in her soft voice and eyes.
“What?” he asked as he blinked his one good eye to focus on his sister’s tense face. She looked thinner since he’d first returned and more haunted than he did.
“You looked like you were a million miles away,” she said. And she was obviously thinking he’d been back there—to the scene of that last explosion.
He shook his head. “Not nearly that far,” he assured her. “Just next door.”
She tensed even more and all the color drained from her face. It was acres away but she glanced in the direction of the estate and asked, “To La Bonne Vie?”
He nodded now.
She shuddered. “What the hell were you doing there?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” a husky female voice remarked with that sexy Louisiana drawl that had River’s stomach muscles and other parts of his body tensing.
He turned toward Edith where she stood on the other side of the corral fence. “I told you—I was making sure the place was safe.”
“There’s nothing safe about that place,” Jade remarked, and as her nerves increased, the horse reared up. “Shh...” she told him. But her usual skills had no effect on the scared animal.
Dodging the raised hooves, River ducked in and grabbed the reins from his sister. Using all his strength, he tugged the horse down and led it back into the barn. When he returned after putting the stallion into his stall, he found Jade and Edith deep in conversation.
His sister seemed even more agitated. “What have you said to her?” River asked Edith, as he hurried to Jade’s side and wrapped his arm around her trembling shoulders. Since Jade had never left Shadow Creek, she had probably met Edith several times before Thorne’s wedding, so the women knew each other. Did they not like each other?
“It’s what she hasn’t said,” Jade replied. “She won’t answer me about what the new owner’s plans are for La Bonne Vie.”
“She can’t,” River said.
Jade snorted, much like one of her horses might. “Yeah, right...”
“It’s true,” he insisted.
And Edith turned toward him, her brown eyes wide with obvious surprise over his defense of her.
“She has a confidentiality agreement,” he explained. “She could risk losing her job.”
“She’s risking a hell of a lot more by spending time in that house,” Jade ominously warned him.
“What do you mean?” Edith asked her.
Jade trembled. “Nothing good ever happened in that house.”
River could remember some good times—with his siblings, with Mac, with some of the nannies and tutors Livia had hired for them. He could even remember a few good times with their mother—when she’d paid them attention.
“Come on, Jade,” he admonished his sister. “You know that’s not completely true—”
“Maybe not for you,” she said. “But it’s true for me. I hate that house. I hope the new owner burns down the entire place!”
“Jade!” River exclaimed,
shocked at his sister’s outburst.
She tugged free of his arm around her shoulders and stepped out the gate. A pang struck his heart as he was torn between chasing after his sister and staying to talk to Edith.
River had been gone so long that he barely knew Jade. She’d been a child when he’d joined the Marines. But if Jade was anything like him, she would prefer to be alone to get herself back under control. At least River had always preferred to be alone—until that morning, when he’d surfaced from the nightmare to find Edith holding him.
He stared after Jade as she headed toward her truck. He wasn’t sure what he would say to her if he followed her. He didn’t understand why she hated La Bonne Vie so much. Sure, he wasn’t a huge fan himself, but it was just a house, after all. He turned his attention to Edith, who stood on the other side of the fence and asked, “Should I go after her?”
She was staring after his sister, too, her usually smooth brow furrowed. “She does seem awfully upset.”
Instead of squeezing between the fence, River put one hand on top and vaulted over it. Then he headed toward the truck as Jade was backing up. She slammed on the brakes and rolled down the window as he approached.
“Hey,” he said. “What’s going on with you?”
She shook her head, sending her ponytail swinging from side to side. “Nothing.”
“If you ever want to talk...” Even as he uttered the words, he realized he was being a hypocrite and grimaced.
“Do you?” she challenged him. “I’ll talk when you do.”
Before he could say anything, she rolled up the window and drove away, gravel spewing beneath the truck tires. Maybe she was just in a hurry to get back to her ranch. She rarely left it.
“Guess she didn’t want to talk,” Edith mused as she walked away from the fence and joined him in the middle of the driveway.
He shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Why?” He was the one who owed her the apology for leaving her alone with the ruthless reporters.
“I didn’t realize that my working up at the house might cause issues with your family.”
“It’s not you,” he said. “It’s your boss. Not knowing who he is or what he wants with the place is what’s making everyone uneasy.”
“I thought that was Livia being on the loose,” she murmured. Then her eyes widened and she apologized again. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
He shrugged. “It’s true. Not knowing where she is has everyone on edge, too.”
“I thought she’d been sighted in Florida.”
“That’s what the media claims,” he agreed.
“You don’t believe them?”
He sighed. “I don’t know what to believe when it comes to my mother.” Like who the hell his father was. She’d lied to him about that his entire life.
She uttered a heavy sigh of her own, as if she understood. “Since it bothers your sister so much, are you sure you want a job working at La Bonne Vie?”
“Are you offering me one?” he asked.
She sighed again—in resignation. “You have one—if you want it.”
His heart rate quickened with anticipation, and not just over being able to search the house. He was probably more excited about the prospect of working with Edith Beaulieu.
* * *
A bulb flashed as the camera took another photo. No reporter was taking these pictures, though. Edith controlled the camera, taking photos of each item she uncovered in the house. Some had been damaged; pictures torn from frames, vases shattered. The FBI’s search had been excessively thorough. Excessive because Edith wasn’t certain what—if anything—of the personal property was salvageable.
“Why did you buy this?” she murmured. But Declan was nowhere around to answer her question, and she breathed a sigh of relief that she would have some time before his visit to get the house ready for him.
But would she have enough time—if she didn’t have help? She’d offered River the job yesterday, but he hadn’t officially accepted. He’d only nodded at her. Maybe that was the cowboy agreement? She would have preferred a handshake. But then, touching him wasn’t the best idea. She’d only touched him that once—in his bedroom above the stables—and she couldn’t forget the feeling of his skin beneath her fingertips, the rippling of his muscles beneath the flesh glistening with perspiration.
She shuddered as she remembered how he’d looked—how incredibly muscular he was. Male perfection. The scar, the patch...they only added to the sexiness that was River Colton.
She lifted a book from the floor and used it to fan herself. The first thing she needed to have done was get the air conditioner repaired—if it was repairable.
The front door rattled as someone turned the knob. Actually, the first thing she needed to have fixed was the gate; it needed to be secured so no more reporters could trespass on the property. She drew her pepper spray from her purse. This time she wouldn’t hesitate to use it. Maybe if the word got out that she was armed, the media would stop harassing her.
She could only hope...
She stood at the bottom of the curved stairwell, facing the foyer and the extra-tall exterior door. It slowly opened, pouring sunshine across the marble floor. But then a long shadow swallowed the sun. It could have been Mac or Thorne or River. But she figured they would have knocked first or rung the bell to let her know they’d arrived.
“What do you think you’re doing!” she demanded as she rushed forward with the canister of pepper spray.
“Working,” a deep voice drawled. “Isn’t that what you expect your employees to do?”
As he stepped farther into the foyer, and the sunshine washed away the shadows, it was clear he’d been working. He’d taken off his shirt. The sweat-damp garment hung over one broad shoulder. His chest was bare, but for the dog tags, and slick with sweat.
“You—you’ve been working,” she stammered as her mouth began to water. She’d thought it was hot before. But his stepping inside had raised the temperature even more.
He stepped closer, close enough that she could smell him—the sweat, the musk, the man...
He reached out, and her heart slammed against her ribs. But instead of touching her, he held something out to her.
“What is this?” she asked as she dropped her pepper spray into her purse and accepted the black plastic thing he handed her. She stared down at the thing he’d dropped into her palm as if he’d been afraid to touch her. It looked like a garage door opener.
“It’s for the gate,” he said. “I fixed it, so you won’t have to worry about trespassers anymore.”
She suspected he’d been more worried than she’d been—about the reporters. She still had an odd feeling that she wasn’t alone in the house—even before he’d joined her. She couldn’t quite shake that strange sensation she’d had ever since she’d first noticed that gleaming in the dark the first night she’d come to the house.
What had been at the bottom of the stairs? Just an animal?
She’d stumbled across a few inside the house—living and dead. She wasn’t sure which she dreaded finding more. She shuddered and murmured, “Now if you could find a way to keep out the other animals.”
He nodded. “I noticed a couple broken windows. I’m sure that’s how they’re getting inside. I’ll fix those next unless—” he stopped and stared down at her “—there’s something else you’d rather have me do...”
Me. The naughty thought flitted through her mind, shocking her. She was usually all business—nothing but professional. And she especially needed to maintain that professionalism with River Colton. She had never mixed business with pleasure before, and she certainly didn’t intend to start now.
She couldn’t deny, though, that it would be pleasurable to be with him, to be able to kiss hi
m and touch him and have him kiss and touch her. She shivered despite the heat. Then she expelled a ragged breath and pushed away the tempting thoughts of making love with River Colton.
It would never happen.
They both had too much work to do. On the house.
And she suspected that River had other work to do—on himself, so he could recover from his physical and emotional injuries. She couldn’t help him with any of that; she hadn’t been able to help her mother. Even professionals weren’t able to help her mother. She couldn’t go through that again. So she shook her head.
River lifted his shirt from his shoulder and swabbed at his face and chest. “Maybe I should take a look at the air conditioner first,” he suggested.
“Um, um...” She wasn’t in such a hurry to get it fixed now—not if it meant that he’d be putting on his shirt again. She had no intention of giving in to her desire to kiss and touch him. But she could still look.
She could still admire his masculine perfection.
“Okay, windows first,” he said. “I’ll make sure nothing else gets inside the house.” He headed toward the door.
But even after he’d stepped outside and closed the door behind himself, Edith didn’t feel alone. “What about what’s already inside?” she asked.
Would he take care of those intruders, too? But what if those intruders weren’t the rodents she hoped they were? She remembered his sister’s dire warning—that Edith spending time in this house put her at risk. Of what?
Losing her life?
River walked past one of the windows, and the sunlight glistened off the sweat streaking down his muscular chest and broad back.
Or losing her heart?
* * *
Pride swelled in Knox’s heart as he watched his son spur the horse on to gallop around the riding ring. He leaned over the railing, his shoulder nearly touching his sister’s as she leaned next to him.
