by Em Petrova
John Cohen wasn’t known for his manners. If anyone would mistake her relationship to him, it was his uncle. Knox wasn’t going to let any man bother Kizzy, and he wasn’t going to think hard about the whys just yet.
“Excuse me,” he told the woman nicely and slipped away.
As soon as he neared John and Kizzy, she threw him a look. Instead of turning back at the warning glance, Knox lengthened his strides.
“Sleeping with the boss, are ya?”
Knox heard those words, and his fist clenched at his side.
“Known a few like you in my day. Using their beauty to claw their way to the top. All this must look pretty good to you, and Knox already being a billionaire and all.”
Knox grabbed John by the shoulder and spun him just as he cocked his fist. He had no recollection of following through with the punch, but the blow hurt, jarring up his arm to his shoulder, and his knuckles split around teeth and bone.
Cries sounded, but all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart in his ears and fury rushing through his veins.
“KC, no!” Kizzy cried out.
“That all you got, boy?” John grinned around the blood.
He reared back to strike again, but someone grabbed his arm.
“Knox! Stop!”
Kizzy’s grip was strong. He shouldn’t be surprised by it. She was a country girl, after all. What surprised him was her using his Christian name.
She held him back, her voice at his ear, penetrating his haze of rage. “Knox, don’t.”
He gently untangled himself from her hold and stepped closer to his uncle, to loom over him. “Don’t ever talk to her that way again. In fact, don’t talk to her.”
His uncle only grinned at him, and Knox had to turn away or risk doing more damage.
Twisting, he walked off. Behind him, he heard Kizzy’s soft voice. “Are you all right? You got him?” she said to someone else who must be assisting John.
Bastard. Pressuring him was bad enough but he wouldn’t talk to Knox’s employee like that.
A second later, Kizzy reached his side. How she’d run in those high heels on the turf was beyond him.
Without a word, he got behind the wheel of his car and she climbed into the passenger’s seat. The drive from the cemetery to the house, where they’d receive guests for a small luncheon following the funeral service, was also silent.
He barely remembered driving—his motions were automatic. When they reached the house, she took him by the forearm. “Let me see to your knuckles. You’re bleeding.”
He allowed her to draw him into the bathroom, feeling like a small boy again with a cut knee and Caroline tending to him.
Kizzy stood so close he could smell her perfume but also an underlying sweet scent that could only be pure woman. Up close, she was paler than usual. He didn’t like it.
“I’m sorry,” he grated out.
Her gaze flew up to meet his, eyes so blue. “About what?”
“What my uncle said to you. He’s out of line.”
“Well… I guess you put him in line, didn’t you?” One of her rare true smiles skated across her features as she dabbed the blood from his knuckles. Her dimple had his gut clenching.
He huffed out the semblance of a laugh. “I guess I did.” He sobered as she bandaged him. “He’ll say it again, though. He isn’t done trying to get to me.”
“Probably not. But it isn’t anything I haven’t already heard, Knox.”
The intimacy of her calling him by his given name bloomed in his chest. She was still holding his hand, looking up into his eyes, and it would be the easiest thing in the world to lean in and kiss her. But the true shock was not wanting to kiss her to fulfill some sexual urge—he wanted to connect with her on a deeper plane.
“I’m sorry the world doesn’t believe a woman can make her way to the top without sleeping with somebody. I wish it was different for you, Kizzy.”
“Me too,” she said softly.
“Thank you. For this and everything you endure to be my assistant.”
“It’s my job.” She stepped back and left the bathroom. He stared after her, a new confusion added to the guilt, anger and grief he was already feeling.
* * * * *
“Where the hell is she?” Knox demanded of his uncle.
The man had planted himself in a leather chair in the living room as if he had no intention of going home after the longest day Knox had ever lived through. John looked up from the papers he read.
“Who?” he asked.
Knox stopped before him and widened his stance. “You know who—Kizzy.”
His brows pinched.
“My assistant,” he clarified. “She’s not in the house. What did you say to her? If she left because of you, I’ll—”
“Knox, calm down now.” Caroline stood in the doorway with a tray bearing some of the soup left over from the luncheon. “Kizzy went out riding.”
Knox’s chest tightened. Kizzy was okay.
John held out the sheaf of papers to him. “Look these over, Knox.”
“What are they?”
“It’s information that could convince you to stay on here at the Amazing Grace. The ranch can only be run by a Cohen. Your pa knew it, and so do I. It’s only right, boy. You want to believe I’m the enemy, and maybe I am. But I’m all the family you’ve got now, close family at least, and I won’t allow you to go against your father’s wishes. I loved him too much to do that.”
He swallowed but didn’t take the papers. “I’ll read them later. Put them on the desk in the study.”
John nodded and started in on the soup.
Knox walked to the window to look out over the land—he owned all this. And Kizzy was out there somewhere, seeing it with fresh, untainted eyes.
He pictured her round ass in the saddle, her long hair loose and streaming behind her as she galloped across the field, probably to escape the shit here. Hell, he wanted to do the same thing.
What was stopping him?
Without another word to his uncle, he nodded his thanks to Caroline and went to his room. He tore off his suit and tie, dropping them all to the bed, and changed into jeans and a T-shirt. The unusual attire felt foreign to him and yet comfortably familiar. A homecoming.
In the barn, he waved off a ranch hand and saddled a mare for himself. The movements eased him some, but he wasn’t about to linger over the why of it all.
“Which way’d she go?” he asked the ranch hand.
He pointed.
Knox swung into the saddle and was off. The horse responded to his every command, and the wind rushed at his face. The scents of grass, hay and earth filled his head as he sped up.
He spotted Kizzy far ahead. She wasn’t riding very fast, but taking a leisurely and scenic route around the Amazing Grace.
He could show her so many secret places.
As he closed the gap between them, she heard the beat of his horse’s hooves and tossed a look over her shoulder. Knox’s chest seized with the view of her, proud and straight, more at ease than he’d ever seen her. The business dresses and suits and the high heels had nothing on her jeans, plaid shirt and boots. Hell, she was only missing a hat. It would be perfect on her.
He drew up alongside her, keeping pace.
She threw him another look. “I hope you didn’t need me for something important. I should have checked in with you before leaving.”
“It’s fine. I don’t need you.” Except he did, just not for work. Over the course of the past few days, he’d come to rely on her for much more than his business.
His mouth was dried out, and he couldn’t think of any words anyway. Didn’t matter, because there was a calming factor in just riding with Kizzy, not speaking.
He let her lead for a while, and she wandered around thickets and up to a rise where there was a better view of the barn and house. She paused a moment there, and he looked down on all that belonged to him, wondering what the hell he was going to do with it.
/> Keep it, let John and the foreman run the place, while he continued to deal with growing his company? He could use the ranch as a place to visit in summers and maybe Christmastime.
Dad, you told me what to do, but I’ve never listened to you before.
Would ya now, boy? His imagination conjured his father’s response.
Prob’ly not. But tell me anyway.
At that moment, Kizzy spoke. “It’s so beautiful it hurts to look at.”
A lump formed in his throat.
She turned her head to look into his eyes, and hers were bright with unshed tears. God, the woman had more depth than a thousand of the women he usually had flings with.
And now Knox had a whole lot more to think about, like how he felt each time he was in Kizzy’s presence.
Chapter Four
If she didn’t put in a weekly call, her family would take notice and think something was wrong. So Kizzy paused in her work and picked up her phone. The week she’d spent here at the Amazing Grace had been strange, and she had no idea how to relay that to whatever family member picked up the phone today.
She would keep it all to herself, pretend she was in Houston.
The phone rang twice before a small voice cried, “Kizzy!”
Hank’s daughter was growing so fast, and Kizzy could picture her big smile and blue eyes just from the sound of her voice.
“Hey, sweetie. How are you?” They chatted a few minutes, and Kizzy was filled in on all the gossip. Who was naughty, who wasn’t. Who was grounded for the week. She laughed at the stories and finally, Hank’s daughter passed off the phone to Kizzy’s brother Ford.
“You’re a little late calling us this week, aren’t ya, sis?” he asked straightaway with a note of teasing.
“I don’t just sit around waiting till the moment I can call y’all,” she teased right back, smiling at the sound of his voice.
They talked for a few minutes. He asked about work and she told him things had been rather hectic lately and she was working weird hours, which was the truth. When it came time to say goodbye, Kizzy paused.
“Ford.”
“Yeah, sis?”
“I miss you all.”
“Do ya now? Never thought I’d hear our city girl say such a thing.”
“Me either.” She bit her lip.
“Maybe it’s time for a visit.”
“Yes, it is. I’ll plan something soon.”
They hung up with warm goodbyes, and then Kizzy sat staring at the paperwork and open laptop.
She was downright homesick for the Dalton clan, who drove her crazy on occasion but were such a big happy family that she couldn’t help but compare them to the Cohens.
Knox and his uncle were like fire and gasoline. Knox had barely said a word to her since he’d caught up to her on horseback a few days before. She had gone about her work and he was doing… whatever it was he needed to do. But it didn’t take a PhD in psychology to realize the man was unhappy. Kizzy wished she could do something about that, but what? It wasn’t even her place, and she didn’t make enough money in the world to take on his grumpiness on top of the rest of her duties.
But if he needed her…
An image popped into her mind, of him leaning in, hands on her spine, drawing her close.
She shook herself. She needed some fresh air.
After changing, she went out to the barn. She’d spent far more time here than she ever would have guessed she might. Everything about the space was familiar and homey, right down to the ranch hand she’d befriended over the course of a few days.
Corbin was pure cowboy, right down to his leather chaps and spurs. He had a ready smile and enough wit to keep her engaged in conversation whenever she came around.
As she walked into the barn, squinting at the transition between bright sun and dim interior, he threw her a grin. “Hey, Kizzy. Coming out for a ride today?”
“I think I will.”
“Want me to saddle your favorite horse?”
“I’ll do it in a bit.” She moved toward the stall he was standing in, cleaning out the soiled hay. Her muscles burned to grab a pitchfork and dig in too. What would Corbin think of it? Or Knox, for that matter?
He hadn’t brought her here to do barn chores.
Corbin leaned on the handle of his pitchfork and smiled at her. She leaned against the wooden support wall and returned the smile.
No cowboys. How many times had she said those very words to her sisters, who were forever shoving blind dates at her? She wasn’t picking up Corbin at some honkytonk bar, though. She was just talking, taking a break from work.
“How long you been riding, Kizzy?” he drawled.
“Since I could walk, I think.”
“That so?”
She smiled. “Yeah, there are photos of me seated in front of my daddy in the saddle. Got my first pony at eight.”
“I was six.”
“Lucky boy.”
His grin widened. “When I first saw you, I didn’t take you for a cowgirl.”
“I’m not sure how to take that.”
“As a compliment, because that’s what it is.” Corbin stepped a little closer. Then he looked over her head and moved back into the stall.
She glanced around to see what had gotten into him and saw Knox standing there. He strode over to them, a special glare for Corbin.
“Knox,” Corbin drawled out in greeting.
“Corbin.” The syllables were clipped. “You takin’ a break?”
“Nope. Just paused to say howdy to Kizzy.”
Knox didn’t look at her, but judging by his profile, he was ticked. She saw a muscle flicker in the corner of his jaw and his nostrils flare as he dragged in a breath.
What was going on? There seemed to be no love lost between them, but surely Corbin was allowed to stop and say hello. Knox wasn’t such a slave driver in his company, so why here at the ranch?
“I think I’ll saddle that mare now.” She didn’t wait for a response from either her boss or the ranch hand and strode to the wall where the saddles were kept. She grabbed one down and carried it out outside, hitching it over the rail of the paddock. She stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled to get the horse of her choice’s attention, just like Corbin had shown her on that first day.
The horse trotted over, and she treated her with some baby carrots on her palm while coaxing her in. While the horse crunched away, Kizzy wiped the horse spit from her palm onto her jeans and began saddling the mare.
* * * * *
Hell. Knox was shocked by his own behavior. He’d long ago put the rift between himself and Corbin on the shelf and closed the door on any hard feelings. At least until he saw the man flirting with Kizzy.
The thump of hooves brought him away from Corbin—and wanting to punch the guy’s lights out—to the door. Kizzy rounded the paddock and took off across the field.
Dammit, everything about this place was stirring up his emotions. Not only did he hear and see his dad around every corner, but now his old jealousy when it came to Corbin had stood up and demanded he give it attention.
His arousal too. Kizzy was driving him crazy, ever since she’d bandaged his hand. No—long before that. The way her hips swayed when she walked into his office and the brilliance of her mind each time she made a suggestion about how he could go about some business matter.
And Corbin was talking to her. He’d seen the same qualities in the woman, and he wasn’t hurting this one, not like he had hurt the woman they both loved years ago.
That had been in high school, though, and now they were grown men. Knox couldn’t have Kizzy anyhow, so what was he even thinking?
He had to get out of here for a while.
Saddling a horse of his own, he struck out in what he hoped was the opposite direction Kizzy had gone. Because if he followed her, he couldn’t be responsible for his actions. He was too hungry for a taste of her plump lips and the feel of her body against his. Hell, he’d dreamed about her three ni
ghts in a row, since the day of his father’s funeral, and now she was undeniably part of this ranch in a way he’d never expected her to be.
Which meant she was part of him too.
He circled around the property, knowing she was probably sticking to the quiet trails. What he needed was a hard gallop to clear his mind. It wouldn’t make his jeans less tight and his arousal for a beautiful blue-eyed cowgirl who was also unequalled in talent when it came to a mind for business, but at least he’d get some energy out.
His heart squeezed hard and then skipped a beat as he set eyes on Kizzy in the distance. Her mare sailed over the fence, and she took off at a fast clip across the pasture.
Add excellent horsewoman to that list of her talents and he was finished pretending he didn’t want her.
He took off at a hard gallop and sailed over the fence a few seconds behind. She knew he was there and tried to throw him off her trail, curving around to the flatlands. Had she come this way before on one of her rides? He knew she went out daily, but he didn’t know she was this adventurous.
With a new tightness in his chest, he paced her. They raced on, side by side. Sometimes her mare stretched out ahead, and sometimes his did. Kizzy’s hair streamed behind her, her ass bounced in the saddle.
He was hard as stone now, and each bump of his backside hitting the leather was almost painful.
When he thought she might run on forever, she slowed. Her cheeks were pink, but her jaw was set.
She was irritated with him. Angry even.
He drew up to a stop too and their horses danced around a moment before Kizzy let out a low growl of annoyance and began walking hers to cool it down.
He followed, uncaring of her mood. Actually, he was pretty damn turned on by it. He’d never seen that look in her eyes before, and what he really wanted, above anything else, was to see her anger turn to desire, for the burning to transform to a liquid need pooling in those baby blues.
“Kizzy, stop.”
She looked at him.
“Please. Let’s talk.”
Her face didn’t soften. Maybe she believed he’d tell her off, or maybe she didn’t think she could hold back her own words.
