Read the book: «The Millionaire's Club: Connor, Tom & Gavin: Round-the-Clock Temptation / Highly Compromised Position / A Most Shocking Revelation»

The Millionaire’s Club: Connor, Tom & Gavin

Three intense, passionate romances from three favourite Mills & Boon authors!

The Millionaire’s Club:
Connor, Tom & Gavin
Michelle Celmer
Sara Orwig
Kristi Gold

www.millsandboon.co.uk

In August 2010 Mills & Boon bring you four classic collections, each featuring three favourite romances by our bestselling authors

THE SPANIARD’S PLEASURE

The Spaniard’s Pregnancy Proposal

by Kim Lawrence

At the Spaniard’s Convenience by Margaret Mayo

Taken: the Spaniard’s Virgin by Lucy Monroe

BOUGHT FOR HIS BED

Virgin Bought and Paid For by Robyn Donald

Bought for Her Baby by Melanie Milburne

Sold to the Highest Bidder! by Kate Hardy

THE MILLIONAIRE’S CLUB: CONNOR, TOM & GAVIN

Round-the-Clock Temptation by Michelle Celmer

Highly Compromised Position by Sara Orwig

A Most Shocking Revelation by Kristi Gold

PROTECTOR, LOVER…HUSBAND?

In the Dark by Heather Graham

Sure Bet by Maggie Price

Deadly Exposure by Linda Turner

Round-the-Clock Temptation

BY

Michelle Celmer

MICHELLE CELMER lives in southeastern Michigan with her husband, their three children, two dogs and two cats. When she’s not writing or busy being a mum, you can find her in the garden or curled up with a romance novel. And if you twist her arm really hard, you can usually persuade her into a day of power shopping.

Michelle loves to hear from readers. Write to her at PO Box 300, Clawson, MI 48017, USA.

Don’t miss Michelle Celmer’s exciting new novel, The Oilman’s Baby Bargain, available in September 2010 from Mills & Boon® Desire™.

To Melissa Jeglinski, for taking an eight-year dream and making it a reality. Words can not express my gratitude.

To Patience Smith, for being the editor I had always dreamed of and then some, and for her unwavering faith in me. It has truly been a joy to work with you.

To my agent Jessica Faust, for her unconditional support for talking me down from a ledge a time or two and for being a hell of a lot of fun (and of course perky).

To the exceptional authors I had the privilege of getting to know while working on this project. Cindy, Brenda, Shirley, Sara and Kristi, thanks for making my first continuity such a fun, rewarding experience.

To Wanda Ottewell for diving into this mid-project and managing to make sense of it all. I’d love to work with you again.

And finally, to my brother and sister-in-law, Jim and Sue, for their help researching this book. Thanks, guys!

Prologue

From the diary of Jessamine Golden

October 11, 1910

Dear Diary

Just when I thought I’d lost my taste for revenge, when I believed Brad’s love for me had lifted the dark shadows that hung over my heart, I’ve been betrayed once again. Edgar Halifax stole my family and my security when he murdered my father. He ruined my life and took away my dreams of being a teacher. Now he’s stolen the only man I could ever love, the only man who has ever loved me, and my thirst for revenge is like a fire burning out of control in my belly.

I’ve been framed, Diary. I didn’t steal that gold and I told Brad so. I swore to him on my father’s grave that it wasn’t me, that it was Halifax himself who’d done it. That he’d taken the gold and hidden it and made it look like a robbery. But Diary, when I saw the doubt in Brad’s eyes I felt sick deep inside my soul and a sharp pain stole my breath. It was my heart ripping in two. I’ve been betrayed before, but it never hurt like this. I realize now what a fool I’ve been to let myself believe we could beat the odds.

But, Lord, I still love him. I crave the lips that touched mine so sweetly, the hands that caressed me so tenderly. The pendant rests close to my heart, a reminder of all that could have been. I’ll keep it there, even though I know now our love can never be. In Brad’s heart he will forever be a man of the law and my thirst for revenge will never be quenched. Not until Halifax pays for his sins. And he will pay. I’ll see to that.

Without Brad’s love, I have nothing left to lose.

Chapter One

Nita Windcroft wasn’t the crying sort.

The last time she ‘d shed a tear had been thirteen years ago, in the fourth grade, when she fell off the monkey bars and dislocated her shoulder. Buck Johnson had laughed and called her a baby and she’d hauled off and given him a black eye with her good arm. As far as she was concerned, most females were way too emotional for their own good. But in light of the recent happenings at their family horse farm—deliberately broken fences, poisoned feed that nearly killed more than a dozen horses and the threatening letter they’d received just last week warning them to get off the land—she was at the end of her emotional rope and clinging for dear life.

Doc Willard, the town veterinarian, came out of Ulysses’s stall, a grim look painted in the lines of his weathered old face. Nita felt tears prickling the corners of her eyes, but refused to let them flow over.

“I’m sorry, Nita. The break is too severe, and with his age…we’re going to have to put him down.”

“Ulysses was just an old workhorse, but he was Daddy’s favorite. He’s going to be crushed by this.”

“How is your Pa?” Doc Willard asked. “I heard he took quite a spill when the horse went down.”

“He’s in surgery right now. The doctor’s say he’ll be off his feet for at least six weeks and he’ll probably need physical therapy.” Nita thought of her daddy, lying on the hard, dusty ground, his leg twisted and bloody after being launched from the horse’s back. He’d been out checking the fence in the north corral when his horse stepped in a hole—one too large to be created by a prairie dog or a badger. None of their employees would be foolish enough to dig a hole there, so she knew it had to be another attempt to scare them away.

She also knew, no matter how vehemently they denied any wrongdoing, the Devlins were responsible for this. And this time they’d gone too far. Her daddy could have been killed.

A fresh round of tears burned their way up into her throat and she swallowed them back. She’d lost her mother to cancer when she was little, and later lost her older sister Rose to the lure of the big city. Nita didn’t know what she would do if she lost her daddy, too. She would kill any man who tried to hurt him. But this situation was growing too big, too out of hand for even her to deal with.

She’d heard the Texas Cattleman’s Club was a cover for some sort of mercenary group that traveled the globe dispensing justice and fighting for the greater good. She’d asked them for help a couple times already. They’d even sent a man over to look around, her best friend Alison’s new husband Mark. He hadn’t found anything that made him believe the Devlins were responsible, but Nita trusted that family about as far as she could spit. For more than one hundred years they had been trying to get their hands on the Windcroft land—the land they hadn’t already stolen that is.

But like everyone else, including the police, the Cattleman’s Club didn’t want to get involved in the Windcroft-Devlin feud.

Maybe now they would, since people were getting hurt.

“You should be at the hospital,” Doc said.

“Before he went into surgery, Daddy made me promise to come home and see to the horse. You know how he is, the farm always comes first.” It was a quality he’d drilled into Nita from the day she was old enough to walk. She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t worked the horse farm at his side. And now that he was incapacitated, it was up to her to see that things ran smoothly.

Outside the stable she heard hoofbeats. “Do what you have to do with Ulysses, Doc,” she said on her way out the main door. Outside, Jimmy Bradley, the stable manager, was dismounting his horse. The setting sun cast long, ghostly shadows, and the cool, dry air had her shivering under her heavy flannel shirt.

“Well,” Nita asked. “What did you find?”

Jimmy took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. “More holes, all through the north and south corral. We’ll check the east and west corrals and the stallion pens tomorrow when we have more light. The boys will work through the night filling what holes we’ve found so far. Until it’s safe we should keep the horses in the stables.”

“You’re sure it wasn’t an animal?”

“No, ma’am, unless this particular animal digs with a shovel and leaves boot prints in the dirt. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say it’s them damned Devlins.”

Having been with the farm since before Nita was born, Jimmy was no stranger to the Windcroft-Devlin feud. “I can’t disagree with you.”

“Something needs to be done, ma’am.”

Frustration tied her insides in knots. She’d never felt so useless. “I know that Jimmy, but without proof the police won’t get involved. When I called them this afternoon, they said it was probably just some kids pulling a prank.”

“This was no prank.”

With the police unwilling to help, she knew she had only one choice left. Even if that meant swallowing her pride, dropping to her knees and begging. The safety of her family and her animals was worth the sacrifice.

She pulled her keys from her pocket and headed for her truck. “I think it’s time I paid another visit to the Cattleman’s Club.”

Jimmy scoffed. “They wouldn’t believe you before. What makes you think they’ll listen now?”

She climbed into the truck and gunned the engine. “This time, I’ll make them listen.”

Connor Thorne stepped from the cool Texas night into the Cattleman’s Club lobby, the scent of leather and cigars washing him over him and settling his soul. The club’s paneled walls displayed oil paintings of members past and present, of whose ranks Connor had only recently joined. So recently, in fact, that he still felt a bit awkward breezing into the building unannounced.

But not for long. He was about to receive his first official assignment.

Considering the late hour the lobby was deserted. He’d come straight from the airport when he got the message from his brother saying an emergency meeting had been called. Connor had been in Virginia tying up loose ends after a very abrupt leave from the army. Of course the men from his platoon had insisted on throwing him an official going-away party. One that had lasted pretty much up until he boarded a plane that afternoon. He was functioning on about two hours of sleep and the remnants of a hangover.

Despite that, when he opened the door to the meeting room, he was filled with an uncharacteristic excitement, a sense of worth he’d not experienced since leaving the Rangers.

His identical twin, Jake, lounged in one of the maroon leather armchairs. Two of the other club members, Logan Voss, a successful cattle rancher, and Gavin O’Neal, the new town sheriff, stood around a table studying a copy of the map recently stolen from the Royal Museum.

“Connor, you made it.” His brother rose from his seat and grasped his hand. “Thanks for coming in so late. We have a bit of an emergency on our hands.”

“Not a problem,” Connor said.

The other men turned to greet him, each shaking his hand, then they all took seats.

“I know you just got off a plane,” Jake said. “You want a drink, something to eat?”

Connor knew his brother was only trying to make him feel welcome, but the gesture made him feel even more the outsider. “Let’s get down to business.”

“That’s my brother,” Jake told the other men with a good-natured laugh. “All work and no play.”

Though Jake’s words annoyed Connor, he couldn’t deny the accusation. He always had been the responsible, serious twin. The worker. Jake had been the outgoing, charming one. The one to have all the fun and to get all the pretty girls.

Although, as a recently—and very happily—married man, Jake’s-girl chasing days were definitely over.

“We got another visit from Nita Windcroft tonight,” Gavin told him. “Looks like the Windcroft-Devlin feud is heating up. Or someone wants it to look that way.”

“She barged right into the club again, demanding to be heard,” Jake said, looking more amused than annoyed. “You’ve gotta admire her determination.”

“I thought we weren’t going to get involved in that,” Connor said.

Jake filled him in on Nita’s visit and the recent disturbances at the farm. “We might have believed she was trying to frame the Devlins but according to Alison, Mark’s wife, Nita would never do anything to hurt her family. We think someone really is trying to scare them off the land, and we’re not sure how far they’ll go. We feel it would be wise to send a man out to the farm to keep an eye on things until we find out who’s behind this. Considering your experience with the Rangers, we think you’re the man for job.”

Connor dashed a kernel of disappointment. It wasn’t the international intrigue he’d been hoping for, the kind he’d grown accustomed to serving in the Special Forces. But no matter what the job, he would give it one hundred percent.

When given an order, he followed it to the letter.

“And Jonathan’s murder?” he asked. “Are we still looking at Nita for that?”

“Alison swears she isn’t capable,” Logan told him. “We want to know what you think. Nita has agreed to let us move a man into the house. While you’re there you can do some snooping around, see if there’s any evidence we’re over looking.”

“Can you get away from the engineering firm?” Jake asked.

“Not a problem.” Another week sitting behind a desk and he’d go psychotic with boredom.

He never would have considered a desk job, but his father had wanted to retire and there had been no one else to carry on the family business. As always, being the responsible one, Connor had set aside his own dreams to accept the duty.

The sad truth was, it had been so long since he’d followed his own heart, the path he’d once dreamed of walking had become so overgrown with other people’s expectations, he would need a machete to chop his way through. Joining the Cattleman’s Club was the first thing Connor had done for himself in a very long time. Maybe ever.

Despite that, Jake somehow always managed to out-shine him. If he didn’t love his brother so much, Connor may have resented him. But Jake was so charming, so full of playful mischief, it was hard not to get caught up in his energy. And he appeared to have outgrown his reckless tendencies. For the most part, anyway. Connor supposed marriage could do that to a man. Not that he would ever find out. Marriage and family weren’t in the cards for him.

“What do you know about Nita Windcroft?” Logan asked.

“Not much.” Connor had never actually met Nita, but he’d heard plenty of talk from the people in Royal. He knew she was raised by a single father and worked the farm by his side—an honest to goodness tomboy. Connor also had heard gossip that, if she didn’t pretty herself up and find a man soon, she was fast on her way to becoming an old maid.

He had met his share of tough women in the military, the kind you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley, and it sounded as if Nita Windcroft fit the bill.

“I know that if you have a horse that needs breaking, even the wildest, meanest of stallions, Nita Windcroft is the woman to call,” Connor said.

The other men exchanged a look, and Connor got the idea there was something more to this than they were telling him.

“She’s a pistol,” Gavin agreed. “With pride by the bushel load.”

“Why do I sense there’s a problem?” Connor asked.

“She asked for a man to watch the farm,” Jake clarified. “We think that with her father out of commission, she may be the next target.”

“We believe she’s in danger,” Logan added. “We don’t want you to watch the farm. We want you to watch her.”

Now it was starting to make sense. “In other words, Ms. Windcroft isn’t going to be too keen on having a bodyguard?”

Jake nodded, a screwy grin on his face. “I’d say that’s a fair assessment.”

“So, you’re okay with that?” Gavin asked. “Living in such close quarters with a woman like Nita.”

Connor shrugged. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

They exchanged another look. This Nita person must be even worse than he’d imagined, in looks or personality—or both—if they thought he would be so put off by her that he wouldn’t take the assignment.

“Who knows,” Jake said, leaning over and slugging Connor in the shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “You might even like her.”

Granted, Connor didn’t date much, but he was far from desperate. And he preferred his women to look like…well, women. Round and soft in all the right places and reasonably attractive.

“I don’t think we have to worry about that,” he told his brother. “I’m definitely the man for the job.”

“Then pack your bags,” Gavin said. “She’s expecting you first thing tomorrow morning.”

Nine o’clock the following morning, gravel and dirt crunching under the tires, Connor drove his Mercedes up the long drive leading to the Windcroft horse farm. The sprawling, stone house looked fairly new considering how long the farm had been in the Windcroft family. The facade was punctuated with a lot of tall, easily accessible windows—a prowler’s dream. He hoped they had a good alarm system, and if they didn’t, they needed one.

Wood rocking chairs flanked the long, covered porch, and off to one side of the front yard a cedar swing sat amidst a pristine, green lawn in the shade of a towering oak whose leaves had just begun to turn yellow. In the distance, on acres of flat land, he could see barns and outbuildings, corrals dotted with mesquite trees. There was also another smaller, older house several hundred yards back from the main structure. He didn’t know much about horse farms, and even less about horses, but this one seemed pretty damn big. Which explained why Nita Windcroft was so charged to get to the bottom of the threats and mischief. The sheer size alone meant he would have his work cut out for him.

The one thing he didn’t see, however, was horses, which struck him as odd.

He parked, grabbed his things from the back seat and stepped out into the cool, dusty air. Duffel bag in hand, he climbed the stairs to the porch and knocked on the front door. Several minutes passed with no answer so he knocked again.

“Can I help you?” a feminine voice inquired and Connor turned to find a woman climbing the steps behind him. She was tall and slim, dressed from head to toe in work-faded denim and a pair of battered cowboy boots. A farm hand, he assumed. A fine-looking one at that.

And young. She didn’t look a day past eighteen.

“Ma’am,” he said, removing his hat. “Name’s Connor Thorne.”

Hands on her hips, she eyed him up and down from under the brim of a black Stetson, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. Finally she said, “You’re older than I thought.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“You look older than your brother. But being twins, I guess you’re not.”

“You know my brother?”

“Of course I do.”

He should have figured. Before Jake had settled down, he’d been a shark with the ladies, though this one looked a bit young even for him.

She removed her hat and a mane of shiny black hair spilled down around her shoulders. She gazed up at him with a pair of wide, startlingly brilliant violet eyes.

Holy cow, he didn’t even know eyes came in that color. Whoever this girl was, she was a looker. At thirty-eight, he didn’t typically date women young enough to be his daughter, but this girl had a fresh, wholesome quality that intrigued him.

He also had a job to do, one that would leave no time for a roll in the hay with a stable girl.

“I’m looking for Nita Windcroft,” he said. “She’s expecting me.”

“Well—” she looked him up one side and down the other “—this is your lucky day, cowboy, because you just found her.”

Chapter Two

Salvation manifested itself in many forms.

This particular brand had showed up in tight jeans, a flannel shirt and cowboy boots.

And he was looking at her as though her hair had caught fire.

“You’re Nita Windcroft?”

“That’s what it says on my birth certificate.”

He shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. Connor may have been Jake’s identical twin, but they were complete opposites. Sure, they looked alike—the same height, the same dark brown hair, though Connor’s was cut military short. They both had eyes the color of the Texas sky at dusk on a cloudless day—deep, relentless blue. But Connor seemed darker somehow, more intense.

The lines bracketing his eyes were carved deeper in his skin, the worry lines in his forehead more pronounced. This man had obviously done his fair share of frowning. In their depths his eyes held the life experience of a man twice his age.

The things that man must have seen to have eyes like that.

“You’re really Nita?” he asked, looking down one side of the porch, then the other, as if he expected the real Nita suddenly to appear.

“Not what you were expecting, huh?”

His eyes roamed over her, slowly. Deliberately. Something about the way he looked at her, the way he studied her features, made her feel self-conscious and exposed.

“Not exactly.”

More like, hell no, considering the look on his face.

“I thought you would be…older,” he said.

“If you got your information from the old biddies in town, you probably thought I was some nasty hag.”

She could tell by the look of guilt in his eyes, that’s exactly what he’d thought, but he was apparently too polite to tell her so.

“If you’d like, I could show you my driver’s license.”

He finally cracked a smile—even though it was just a little one—and the change in his face, the softening of his features knocked her for a loop. “No, ma’am, that won’t be necessary.”

“You can call me Nita,” she said, extending a hand for him to shake.

He gripped it firmly. Not the sissy shake some men used on a woman, as if the slightest pressure would snap her like a dry twig. On the other side of that coin were the men who felt they had something to prove, the ones who turned the shake into some kind of contest of brute strength. Connor’s handshake was just right.

Having him stay here, getting in her way, might not be so bad after all.

“I guess we should get this show on the road,” Nita said. “I had Jane, our housekeeper, make up the bedroom in the guesthouse so you’ll have some privacy.”

He paused. “I’d prefer to stay in the main house if that’s not a problem.”

The only empty bedroom in the main house was right next to hers. The thought of this man sleeping within shouting distance gave her an unexpected little shiver of excitement. She wondered what he looked like when he slept. Did he lie on his stomach, his back? Did he wear pajamas or did he sleep in his birthday suit?

Maybe one day she’d be lucky enough to find out.

Or maybe she’d be better off not letting her imagination run off with her again. Her daddy always accused her of being too curious, too brazen, for her own good.

“You can stay wherever you’d like,” she told Connor. “We’ve got plenty of room. I’m just grateful you’re here to keep an eye on things. The staff have been instructed to assist you in any way possible.”

“I appreciate that,” he said—so somber, so serious and businesslike. He really was different from his brother.

“Well, okay, let’s get you settled in.” She reached for the door handle, but in a flash he’d grabbed it and opened the door for her.

Well, damn. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone but her daddy had opened a door for her. To the farm hands, she was just one of the men, and was treated accordingly. That was the way she liked it. She had no delusions about the kind of woman she’d become. She wasn’t pretty or worldly like her sister Rose, and she certainly wasn’t what you would call feminine. She could drink any of the farm hands under the bar and was known to cuss a blue streak when the circumstances demanded it. She couldn’t cook, and had no inclination to learn, and would rather muck a stall than clean a toilet. Not a dream wife by any stretch of the imagination.

Not any kind of wife at all.

Not that she didn’t appreciate a good-looking man in a pair of tight jeans, she thought, taking a not-so-subtle peek at Connor’s rear end as she eased past him into the house.

As Connor stepped in behind her, he gazed around the interior, at the cream-colored walls and French doors that opened to the office, up the wide staircase that led to the bedrooms. “Not your typical farmhouse.”

“Nope. My momma was a city girl and my daddy knew she wasn’t happy living in the old farmhouse, so he built her this one. I was just a baby when we moved in. Two years later cancer took her.”

Most people would mumble some sort of apology, or words of regret. Connor only nodded.

Not the talkative type, was he?

“Kitchen’s that way,” she said, pointing to the right. “Meals are at 6:00 a.m., noon and 6:00 p.m. sharp. Jane’s room is behind the kitchen. Through those doors over there is the office. The family room and Daddy’s suite are at the back of the house.”

“How is your father?” Connor asked.

“His surgery went well. He’ll be home in a day or two, but he’s going to be off his feet for at least a couple of weeks. It could have been a lot worse. If he hadn’t had Jimmy, our stable manager, with him, who knows how long he would have laid there.” She’d seen men hurt before, but when they cut away her daddy’s bloody pant leg and she saw the bone jutting through the skin, she’d felt dizzy and sick to her stomach.

She’d never seen him looking so pale and weak and broken down. It disturbed her more than she would ever let on. He was her protector. Her hero. Larger than life and invincible. Even though she was a grown woman now, she wasn’t ready to let go of that fantasy. Instead it had been snatched away. Stolen from her by the Devlins.

She turned to Connor. “We need to find out who did this.”

There was fire in Nita’s eyes, a volatile, vivid anger—one Connor recognized all too well—and he suddenly felt sorry for any man who dared cross her. But through the anger, he could see a flicker of something else, something that might have been fear or hurt. It was gone so quickly, he couldn’t pin down the exact emotion.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he assured her. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

She gave him a brusque nod. “I’ll show you to your room.”

He hooked his bag over his shoulder and followed her up the stairs. Her boots echoed against the bare wood steps and her backside swayed temptingly in front of him. She may not have the overly accentuated curves and feminine sweetness some men liked, but something about her stirred a yearning in Connor, a deep longing he hadn’t felt for a very long time. A recklessness that tempted him to throw common sense aside and act on his feelings.

As he always did in these cases, he shoved those feelings deep down and kept them under lock and key. He’d learned long ago not to let his emotions get away from him. When he did, bad things happened. People got hurt.

And pretty as she was, she could still be a murderer.

Nita led him down the hall to his room. “Jane will change your linens once a week and you’ll find fresh towels in the bathroom closet,” she said from the bedroom doorway. “There’s only one bathroom upstairs so I hope you don’t mind sharing.”

“I don’t mind.” Connor set his bag on the hand-stitched quilt draped over the full-size bed. The room was decorated in creams and beiges with dark blue and green accents and the pine furniture looked to be antique. It was a small room, but he didn’t need much space.

“If you leave your dirty clothes in the bathroom hamper Jane will wash them for you.”

“I can do my own laundry.”

Nita laughed—a husky, rich laugh. “You’ll have to get through Jane first, and I’ll warn you, she’s temperamental as a rattlesnake when it comes to other people using her fancy new washer and dryer. Ever since I plugged up the drain and flooded the laundry room trying to do a load.”

“Long as she doesn’t mind,” Connor said.

“Believe me, she doesn’t. She takes a lot of pride in keeping the household running smoothly. Normally she would be here to greet you and show you around, but she’s at the hospital with Daddy.”

“She’s been with you a long time?”

“Ever since Momma got sick. Jane practically raised me and my sister.”

Which meant she would be unlikely as a suspect, but he had to consider every angle. Every possibility.

She nodded toward his bag. “Would you like some time to unpack and settle in?”

“No, ma’am, I can do that later. I’d like to get started. I’ll need a tour of the house and the property.”

“We’ll have to be careful. The boys haven’t gotten all the holes filled yet, and I don’t want any more horses or people hurt. I’m assuming you can ride.”

He hadn’t ridden since he was a kid, but he was sure once he was in the saddle it would come back to him. “I’ll manage.”

“Well, then, why don’t we head out to the stable?”

They started down the stairs, side by side, and Nita’s scent drifted his way. She smelled like fresh air and dust and faintly of sweat. And something else, something sweet, and a little flowery. Since he couldn’t imagine her wearing perfume, he decided it was probably her soap or shampoo. And it was distracting him.

Now he understood what his brother, Logan and Gavin had been alluding to when they asked Connor if he would mind working with a woman like Nita. They weren’t worried that he wouldn’t like her. They thought he might like her too much. But he wouldn’t let this attraction he was feeling cloud his judgment.

“Tell me about this feud,” he said to get his mind back on track. “I’ve heard a lot of rumors. What’s it really all about?”

“It’s been going on for over a hundred years. My great-great-grandfather, Richard Windcroft, lost half his land to Nicholas Devlin in a poker game. The Windcrofts swore that he cheated, but the courts ruled in Devlin’s favor. A few weeks later Nicholas was shot dead and my grandfather was blamed, but there wasn’t enough evidence to convict him. We’ve been at odds ever since.”

“Do you think Richard killed him?”

“He swore he didn’t, and Windcrofts are honest men.”

“So, if the Devlins are behind the threats, why do they want you off the land?”

“They’ve always wanted our land.”

“But why now?”

Nita shrugged. “I don’t know. Do they even need a reason?”

“Do you think there could be a connection to Jonathan Devlin’s death?”

She stopped and spun to face him, her eyes dark with anger. “Don’t think I don’t know what people are saying. I may have hated Jonathan Devlin, but I didn’t have anything to do with his death. Not me or anyone else here. You got that?”

Whoa. She didn’t pull any punches. He hadn’t known too many women who were so in-your-face direct.

“I don’t listen to gossip,” he told her. “Only facts. And right now, the facts don’t point to the Devlins.”

“If it’s not the Devlins, then who would do this. And why?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

“It’s the damndest thing,” Jimmy Bradley said. He, Nita and Connor stood in the west corral studying one of the holes the farm hands hadn’t yet filled. After touring the property, Connor understood how someone could dig holes in the more remote areas undetected. Under the cover of darkness, unless someone was out guarding the perimeter, it would be nearly impossible to see them. But whoever had done this one had dug not three hundred yards from the bunkhouse where the farm hands slept. The question was, why?

The holes were definitely made with a shovel, and the guilty party had left footprints in the fresh dirt. Connor crouched down and inspected the tracks. They were cowboy boots, and large, so he was guessing it was a man. Which could have been half the population of Texas for all he knew. Without a boot to compare it to, the prints wouldn’t do him much good. He’d call Gavin and have a deputy come out and photograph them just in case.

One thing the prints did tell, him however, was that Nita hadn’t done this—not that he’d thought she had.

“Could it be someone working on the farm?” Connor asked Jimmy.

“No, sir,” Jimmy said with a firm shake of his head. “A few of the hands might be a little wild, but they’re good, honest men and loyal to the Windcrofts. They would never do this.”

Connor stood and brushed the dirt from his hands. “What about a past, disgruntled employee?”

“Well, there was one man we let go early last year,” Jimmy said. “And it wasn’t on the best of terms.”

Nita shot him a deadly look. “He wouldn’t do this.”

“I need to know who he is and what happened,” Connor told her. “I need to investigate every possible angle.”

Her chin rose a notch. “His name is Sam Wilkins. The gist of it is, my daddy caught me and him in a…compromising position in the stable. Daddy asked Sam if he planned to marry me. When Sam said no, Daddy ran him off the farm with a shotgun.”

Connor fought the grin that mental picture stirred up. “So, this man, he took advantage of you?”

The look she gave him was one of pure disdain, and her chin rose even higher. “Excuse me, but do I look like the kind of woman a man could take advantage of?”

At that very second, no. In fact, he was pretty sure she could hold her own with a grizzly bear. An emotion that felt like envy burned through him when he thought of the lucky individual who’d had his hands on that lean, lithe body of hers. He wondered if she’d be the shy, demure type in bed, or rowdy and assertive.

Something told him this woman didn’t have a demure bone in her body. She would be full of passion and fire.

All the more reason to keep his thoughts on the assignment and off Nita. He wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone—especially someone like her. The more attracted he was to a woman, the more desirable he found her, the more likely he was to lose control. And when he lost control, bad things happened. Which was the number one reason he hadn’t been in a gratifying relationship with a woman in longer than he could remember.

“Besides,” Nita said, drawing him back into the here and now, “last I heard he was foreman at his cousin’s farm in Kentucky, so it couldn’t have been him.”

Connor was sure there was more to the story, but he had the suspicion he’d get his head bitten off if he asked. And she was right, it probably wasn’t that employee. “Is there anyone besides the Devlins who has some kind of grudge against you?”

“I’ve asked myself that same question a million times and I just can’t think of anyone.”

“Maybe your father would know of someone?”

“I was planning to go visit him after we’re finished. I can ask him then.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to come with you.”

“Who’s going to watch the farm?” she demanded.

He hadn’t planned to come right out and tell her that he was assigned to be her bodyguard, and he had the feeling that when she figured it out for herself all hell would break loose. Either way, he was going to escort her to the hospital. If someone meant her harm he was going to be there to protect her.

“I’m sure Jimmy and the other men can keep an eye on things until I get back.”

“We can do that,” Jimmy said. The old man gave Connor a look, as if he had a pretty good idea that Connor wasn’t there to watch just the farm.

“Besides,” Connor said. “I doubt someone would be foolish enough to try something in broad daylight. Unless you think your father’s not up to the company yet.”

“If I know my daddy, he’s already pitching a fit to get home. He wants to get to the bottom of this just as badly as I do. I’m sure he won’t mind you coming.”

“The sooner he gets back, the better,” Jimmy said gruffly. “The boys went into town for supplies this morning and already there’s been talk.”

“What kind of talk?” Connor asked.

“That with Will gone, and all the disturbances out here, things are bound to fall apart.”

Nita’s face flushed with anger. “Don’t those busybodies in town have anything better to talk about?”

“Why would they think that?” Connor asked.

“After word got around about the poisoned feed we lost customers,” Jimmy said. “People pay top dollar to have their horses trained by Nita. If we can’t guarantee a horse’s safety, people stop callin’.”

“All the more reason to catch the son of a bitch,” Nita said, her eyes two violet embers.

Connor was convinced right then and there that Nita would never purposely cause trouble on the farm, not if it affected her livelihood.

“Seen enough?” she asked him.

He nodded and followed her out of the corral to where they’d left their horses. As they mounted, Nita noticed that he winced a little as he settled into the saddle. She often gave lessons to new riders and recognized the signs of a sore rear end. If he was achy from the short amount of time they’d been out, he’d be hurting like the devil by nightfall.

“We’ll go this way,” Nita said, leading him up the property line toward the main stable.

“How bad is it?” Connor asked.

“How bad is what?”

“Your financial situation.”

She didn’t want to discuss the farm finances with a stranger, whether he’d agreed to help her or not. It was no one else’s business. And every time she let herself think about it, a new notch of fear worked itself into her side.

“We’re holding our own,” she told him. What she didn’t say is that if business didn’t pick up soon, if they continued to lose customers, it wouldn’t be long before they went bankrupt. Then the Devlins would get what they’d been after all these years.

With her daddy out of commission, the burden of making things right landed squarely on her shoulders. But she could handle it. And when she found out who was trying to ruin them, that person was going to wish they were never born.

Chapter Three

When Nita and Connor stepped into her daddy’s hospital room an hour later he was asleep, and Jane was perched in one of the visitor’s chairs reading a romance novel—her one personal indulgence. 1:00 p.m. every afternoon, for exactly one hour she could be found on the cedar swing, or curled up on the couch, her nose buried in a book. Unless someone was bleeding to death or the house was in flames, everyone knew better than to weasel in on her “me” time.

Nita figured, under the circumstances, it would be safe to interrupt her. “Hi, Jane,” she said softly.

Jane looked up, smiled and set the book down. Despite being away from the farm, she wore her typical work attire—plaid shirt, jeans and canvas tennis shoes—and her long dark hair was pulled back into a neat bun. She was nowhere close to the stunning beauty Nita’s mother had been, but she had a quiet grace about her that Nita had always admired. And Jane didn’t let anyone, especially the men on the farm, push her around. Though she was a good ten years younger than Nita’s daddy, if anyone wore the pants in the Windcroft family, it was her.

“Hey, honey,” Jane said, rising to give Nita a hug. Jane had been at the hospital late last night and had come back early that morning, and she looked tired for it. “How are things going at the house?”

“Breakfast was a bit of a fiasco,” Nita said. “But I managed to get most of the burnt smell out of the house.”

Jane cringed. “Lord, I don’t even want to know.”

Nita nodded toward the bed. “Has he been asleep long?”

“He’s been in and out all morning. When he’s not asleep he’s complaining that he wants to go home.”

“That sounds about normal.” For as long as Nita could remember her daddy had hated hospitals, especially Royal Memorial. He’d never said so, but she figured it had a lot to do with her mother’s illness. From what Nita had been told by her sister, who was old enough at the time to remember the chain of events, their momma had been feeling sick for a while but never went to the doctor. When she finally did, the cancer had spread so far there was nothing they could do but make her comfortable. She’d hung on for three months. Most of that time spent in this very hospital.

“Who’s this young man?” Jane asked, giving Connor a curious look.

“Jane, this is Connor Thorne. He’s going to be staying with us for a while, keeping an eye on things.”

“Ma’am,” Connor said, shaking her hand.

“Well, thank heaven for that,” Jane said, glancing in Will’s direction. “Things have gotten out of hand.”

“Do you think it would be okay to wake him?” Nita asked. “Connor has some questions.”

“Like a fella could sleep through all this chitchat,” Will mumbled from the bed, gazing up at them through bleary eyes.

Nita moved to his side and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. He looked a hell of a sight better than he had yesterday. But propped up in the hospital bed, his leg in plaster from his foot all the way up to his thigh, he looked a decade older than his fifty-eight years—as if he’d aged overnight. “How are you feeling Daddy?”

“Like I keep telling the doctors, I feel fine. I’m ready to go home.” He looked past her to Connor, who stood by the door, hands clasped behind his back, military straight. “You keepin’ an eye on my girl?”

Connor gave a single nod. “Yes, sir.”

Nita didn’t correct her father by telling him Connor was there to watch the farm, not her. She’d let him believe that if it eased his mind.

“Daddy, Connor would like to ask you a couple of questions.” She motioned for Connor to join her at his bedside. “He’s trying to find out who did this.”

“I know exactly who’s responsible,” Will said bitterly. “It was the Devlins.”

“The truth is, there’s just no evidence pointing to the Devlins and they’ve firmly denied any involvement,” Connor told him. “Is there anyone else you could think of that has a grudge against you?”

He shook his head. “No one. It’s the Devlins all right.”

Connor could see where Nita got her stubborn streak. They looked alike, too. Same dark hair, same high cheekbones and proud chin.

“You just worry about getting better,” Nita said, patting his hand. “I’ll handle things.”

Will smiled up at his daughter, pride shinning in his eyes. It amazed Connor how easy it was for some men to show the emotion. He’d strived for years to see that look in his own father’s eyes. And despite all he’d done to please James Thorne, Connor still didn’t feel he measured up. He probably never would.

“I want you to hire extra help,” Nita’s father told her. “Temporarily, until I’m back on my feet.”

That chin of hers rose. “I can handle things just fine.”

Connor had a feeling her resistance had little to do with her own abilities and everything to do with their financial situation. He suspected things were worse than she’d let on earlier that morning. And she probably didn’t want to worry her father.

“Don’t worry about things on the farm, Mr. Windcroft,” Connor said. “I’ll be helping Nita while I’m there.”

He didn’t know much about horse farms, but this gave him a good excuse to be close to Nita so he could keep an eye on her.

Nita flashed him an uneasy look, then turned to her father and smiled. “See, Daddy, I’ve got all the help I need. You just concentrate on healing.”

Nita, Jane and her father chatted for a few more minutes, then Nita kissed him goodbye and she and Connor headed out to the parking lot. They’d barely cleared the door when Nita turned to him and said, “I didn’t want to say anything in front of my daddy, but here’s the thing. I really appreciate your offer to help out, but I can’t afford pay you.”

“I never asked you to.”

Nita matched his long stride. “That’s not the point. It wouldn’t be fair for you to work for free.”

“If I’m going to be there anyway, I may as well make myself useful.” Connor pulled his keys from his pocket and as they neared the car, he unlocked the doors. “Besides, you are paying me. Room and board.”

“What do you know about working a horse farm?” she asked.

“Not much.” He opened her door for her, and though she hesitated and looked at him a little funny, she got in. He walked around and climbed behind the wheel, wincing as his backside hit the leather seat. Hell on earth, that smarted. How could a couple hours on a horse do so much damage?

“Do you know anything about horse training or breeding?” she asked.

He started the engine. “Nope, but I’m a fast learner.”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking wary. “It just doesn’t seem right.”

“Nita, I’m not hurting for money, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m set for life. Working for you isn’t going to break me.”

He could see her hackles rising. “So, what? Are you saying I’m a charity case?”

He shook his head. She did have pride by the bucketload. “How about this? I’ll help you out at the farm and you can teach me everything you know about raising horses.”

“Like a trade?”

“Yeah, like a trade. Then it all comes out even.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “You would want to learn?”

“Sure, why not? I like to learn new things.”

“And while we’re at it, I’ll teach you to ride. Since you’re looking a little—” she gave his backside a meaningful look “—uncomfortable.”

“It’s that obvious, huh?”

“I’m just very observant,” she said, and he could swear there was a suggestive lilt in her tone, in the way she let her eyes wander over him. She was the last woman in the world he would have expected to be a flirt, but here she was doing just that. And doing it well.

“So we’ve got a deal?” he asked.

She considered it a minute, then nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got a deal. Now, how about some lunch at the Royal Diner. With Jane gone there’s no one to do the cooking and I’m starved. If I botch another meal the way I did breakfast, the men are gonna string me up by my toes. They said my cooking is about as appetizing as horse feed.”

Connor let a grin slip through. He was feeling a bit hungry himself. “The Royal Diner it is.”

Though some people preferred the fine French cuisine of Claire’s, the Royal Diner would always be Nita’s favorite. She loved the red vinyl booths and stools, the long counter where you could always find a friendly companion to share lunch with. She breathed in the scent of frying burgers and the mouthwatering tang of Manny’s famous chili. But most of all, Nita liked it because her sister told her their momma liked to take them there. They would have burgers and milkshakes and their momma always gave them a penny for the gumball machine. Even though Nita didn’t remember it, it was one more small connection, one link to the mother she wished she could remember.

“Can I take your order, folks?”

Nita looked up from her menu, expecting Sheila, the regular waitress. Instead she found Valerie Raines, the new, younger addition to the restaurant staff. She was a speck of a thing, skinny and petite, with eyes that made Nita think of shuttered windows. She was friendly enough, but always seemed a bit on the wary side, always on her guard.

“Hi, Valerie, I’ll have a cheeseburger, fries and a soda.”

“Sounds good,” Connor said. “I’ll have the same.”

“And I’ll take one of your sweet smiles,” someone said, and all three of them turned to see Gavin O’Neal approaching the booth from the back of the diner. He flashed Valerie a charming grin. The Cattlemen Club men sure were a good-looking bunch, although Valerie looked less than impressed.

“Sheriff,” she said, her eyes going from wary to icecold, before she turned on her heel and walked away.

“Whoa, talk about the cold shoulder,” Connor said.

“What did you do?” Nita teased. “Leave her a lousy tip?”

Gavin shook his head. “I don’t get it. I leave her a good tip and I’m sweet as candy to her but she seems inclined to dislike me. Must be the badge.”

“Care to join us?” Connor asked.

“No, thanks. I was on my way out. I just wanted to stop and see how your father is doing.”

“Better,” Nita said. “He should be home in the next day or two.”

“Glad to hear it. Give him my best,” he said, and turned to Connor. “Your brother mentioned that you have experience reading maps. Is that true?”

“Some, sure.”

“I’d like you to take a look at a copy of the map from the museum. I feel like we’re missing something. Something obvious.”

“I could come into the club sometime this week.”

“I don’t want to drag you away from your—” he glanced at Nita “—business. Why don’t I bring it by Nita’s place later this week, after Nita’s father is feeling up to the company?”

“Nita?” Connor asked.

“Fine by me,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind getting a peek at that map to see what all the fuss is about.”

“Settled then,” Gavin said, dropping his hat on his head. “I’ll see you two later this week. Enjoy your lunch.”

When he was gone, Nita said, “Well now, aren’t you Cattleman’s Club men covert.”

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t want to drag you away from your business? Why doesn’t he just say ‘assignment’? That’s what it is, right?”

“You asked for help, and I’m helping. That’s all there is to it.”

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say.”

“Two cheeseburgers and fries and two sodas,” Valerie said, unloading her tray onto the table. “Can I get you anything else?”

Nita shook her head. “Nothing for me.”

“I’m good, too,” Connor said.

Valerie reached in her uniform pocket for their bill, but as she pulled it out, it slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the floor. “Oops.”

As she bent over to get it, a gold, heart-shaped pendant suspended from a delicate chain slipped from inside her uniform. Etched on its face were two intricately intertwined roses.

“Oh, my sister would love that,” Nita said.

Valerie set the bill on the table and looked at Nita questioningly.

She pointed to the pendant. “Your necklace. Her name is Rose. She likes anything with roses on it.”

“Oh!” Valerie pressed a hand over it and slipped it back beneath her collar.

“Did you get it here in Royal?” Nita was always on the lookout for a birthday or Christmas gift.

“Family heirloom.” She flashed them a forced smile. “You two enjoy your lunch.”

“She’s an odd one,” Nita said after Valerie was gone. “I’ll bet she’s hiding something. Some juicy secret.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Everyone has a secret. Something they’ve done or said or felt that they don’t want anyone to know.”

“Oh yeah,” Connor said, his interest piqued. “What’s yours?”

Nita’s violet eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?”

Okay, so he hadn’t really expected her to just blurt out that she’d done in Jonathan Devlin, especially after she’d so vehemently denied it that morning. But a tidy little confession would have been convenient. Though he had a tough time imagining her killing anyone, she did seem to have a quick temper. If she felt her family was threatened, who knows what she might be capable of?

They ate in silence for a while, and he could tell by the glances she kept shooting his way, the quiet would be short-lived. Finally she said, “So, tell me about yourself. Your brother says you used to be in the army.”

“Rangers.”

“Sounds exciting. Why’d you quit?”

Talk about secrets. When he’d left the military, it wasn’t exactly by choice. “Just wasn’t for me anymore,” he told her—the oversimplified version of the events that led to his leaving.

“What do you do now?” she asked, then added with a knowing smile. “Besides your Cattleman’s Club missions.”

“My father retired recently and I took his place at his engineering firm.”

“Engineering? Sounds boring.”

“Someone has to do it,” he said, even though she’d pretty much nailed it. Engineering bored him to tears. It always had, even in college, but he’d stuck it out and got his degree with the highest of honors, because it was expected. Thornes weren’t quitters, his father liked to boast.

“But why you?” Nita asked. “Can’t he sell the business?”

He sat back in his seat. “You sure do ask a lot of questions.”

“Yeah, I have a curious nature. It gets me into trouble.”

“You don’t say.” He didn’t have any difficulty imagining that. She had trouble written all over her.

“Like the time when I was six and I played I’ll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours with Bo Wilders behind the bunkhouse.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Six, huh?”

“Don’t tell me you never played that game.”

“Not to my recollection.”

“Well, Bo was bragging that he could pee on a tree, and made fun of me because I couldn’t. Of course I had to prove him wrong, and you can imagine the mess that created.”

Connor broke into a grin. “I can imagine.”

“My daddy caught us and I got the whole birds-and-bees speech.”

If Connor had been caught doing that, it would have cost him a lashing from his father’s belt and a long lecture on respect and responsibility. As far as Connor could tell, his father had two expressions when it came to his sons—disinterest, and disappointment.

And maybe in Jake’s case, exasperation.

“Sounds like you had an exciting childhood,” Connor said.

“Yeah, that’s one way to look at it. I’m not sure my daddy would agree with you, though.” She polished off the last of her burger and took a long pull on her soda straw. “You about ready to go? We’ve got work to do.”

Connor nodded. He pulled out his wallet and tossed a tip down on the table. “Let’s get to it.”

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Nita said as they stood to leave.

“Don’t worry about me. I can take whatever you can dish out.”

“That’s good,” she said with a grin that could only be described as devious. “Because by the time I’m finished with you, you’re going to be a full-fledged cowboy.”

Chapter Four

Connor limped up the stairs to his bedroom. He’d always considered himself in supreme physical condition—until Nita got her hands on him, that is. He never imagined learning the proper way to ride a horse could do so much damage to a man’s…pride. He ached something fierce in places he’d never ached before, in muscles he hadn’t known existed until today. Rangers training had been a breeze compared to what she’d put him through.

After she felt confident he knew how to ride, and despite Jimmy’s assurance that the boys had done a thorough job, she and Connor had gone out to make sure all the holes had been adequately filled and it was safe to let the horses back out to pasture. It was nearly dark before they rode back.

Since Jane wasn’t there to cook, Jimmy had made a roaring bonfire and they roasted hot dogs on sticks. Afterward, they sat around the fire under a sky blanketed with stars drinking beer and swapping stories. Socially, the hands treated Nita like one of the men. An equal. But when it came to her running the farm, it was obvious they respected her authority and had no trouble taking orders from her. She was tough, but fair.

It had been a long day and now all Connor wanted to do was collapse in bed and sleep off the pain. Instead of going home and sleeping last night after receiving his assignment, he’d spent half the night doing his laundry and preparing for another who-knows-how-many days away from home. He’d had a total of about six hours sleep in the past three days. Hopefully, after a solid eight hours, he’d feel half-human by morning.

“You’re walking a little stiff, there, Connor.”

He reached the top landing and turned to see Nita climbing the stairs behind him, a self-satisfied grin on her face. She knew damn well what she’d done to him and looked awfully proud of herself for it.

“I’ve felt worse,” he said. As a Ranger he’d been shot three times, nearly blown up and just about flattened like a pancake when his parachute opened late. Although the pain he was feeling tonight definitely ran a close second.

“The boys giving you trouble?” she asked.

“Boys?”

Her eyes traveled down to the vicinity of his crotch. “The family jewels.”

He just about laughed out loud. He couldn’t recall a woman ever coming right and asking him about his boys. “The boys are fine,” he assured her. “It’s the rest of me that aches.”

She followed him to his room. “There’s a bottle of pain reliever in the bathroom cabinet.”

“I think I just need sleep,” he said unbuttoning his shirt. He grabbed his bag from the bed and tossed it on the floor. Unpacking would have to wait until morning.

“Tough guy, huh?” She leaned in the doorway watching him. “I think I know what might make you feel better.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked. “What?”

She stepped in his room, lacing her fingers and cracking her knuckles. “Take off your shirt.”

He looked at her, eyebrow raised.

She noticed the expression on his face and laughed. “Don’t get your boxers in a twist. I’m only going to give you a back rub.”

“A back rub?” Connor wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Not that he couldn’t use a backrub right about now, but they hardly knew each other. It might be…awkward.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, walking toward him and rolling her sleeves. “Are you shy?”

He couldn’t help wondering, by her taunting tone, if that was some sort of challenge. There was something about her, something wild and sexy and a little out of control. At the same time he’d never met a woman who seemed so confidant, so sure of what she wanted. It both intrigued and disturbed him. Intrigued him because, well, hell, who wouldn’t be with a woman like Nita? She was a walking contradiction. A puzzle he was itching to solve. And that was exactly the thing that disturbed him. She had a way of making him feel.

Things he never let himself feel. Things he shouldn’t feel.

“It’s that curious nature of yours that I’m worried about,” he told her.

“If I was making a pass at you, believe me, you would know it. I don’t mince words.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

She propped her hands on her hips. “Well, do you want a back rub or not? I guarantee you’ll enjoy it.”

Oh, he didn’t doubt that for a second. He just didn’t feel it was proper considering they’d only met that morning. But the thought of not letting her made him feel like a prude.

“Yeah, what the heck,” he agreed.

“Then take the shirt off and lay down on your stomach.”

He shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it over the footboard, sat down and pried off his boots, then stretched out on the bed, laying his head on the pillow.

He felt the bed shift as Nita climbed on. She straddled his legs, plopped down and made herself comfy on the back of his thighs. Then her hands were on his shoulders, her skin warm and a little rough, her thumbs working themselves deep into the muscle. If he hadn’t been so achy and exhausted, he might have been turned on by her touch, but the truth was, there was nothing sexual about her actions. All he felt now was relaxed.

Nita gave a low whistle, as her hands slid lower. “You military men sure do know how to grow the muscles.”

If he wasn’t half-asleep already, he would have laughed. “Out of curiosity, do you ever have a thought that you don’t say out loud?”

“Cowboy, if you knew what I was really thinking, you wouldn’t have let me anywhere near your bed.”

He glanced over his shoulder and gave her a wary look.

She grinned. “I’m just pullin’ your leg.”

He settled his head down on the pillow and closed his eyes.

“And the answer to your question is no. I pretty much say whatever’s on my mind. A lot of people don’t appreciate that. They say it’s not ladylike.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not really. I was born this way. If people don’t like it, tough. I’m not out to impress anyone.” She smoothed her hands over his skin. “What are all these marks on your back from?”

“Burn scars. I was a little too close to a building when it exploded.”

“No kidding. And what about this one on your shoulder?” she asked, skimming her fingertips over it.

“Bullet wound.”

“It looks recent.”

“It was.”

“Some covert mission you can’t talk about, I’m assuming.”

“Yep.” He was fighting to stay awake, but he could feel himself beginning to fade, feel sleep overwhelming him. What the woman could do with her hands. He felt as if he were melting into the mattress.

She worked her hands lower, where he was the most sore.

“Hmm, feels good,” he mumbled. So relaxed.

Nita dug her thumbs into the knots in his lower back. She was sure his backside was aching pretty good, too, and wondered what his reaction would be if she touched him there. She sure wouldn’t mind. He had a body that wouldn’t quit—wide shoulders and arms the size of tree trunks. A thick, muscular chest that tapered down into a firm torso and slim hips. And she could just imagine the equipment he was packing under those jeans.

Even though he was now technically her employee, she wasn’t immune to all that strapping muscle and tanned skin. Not that a man being her employee had ever stopped her before. In fact, that made it all the more exciting. The stolen moments in the stable when no one was around. A quick roll in the field at sunset. Nights on a blanket under the stars after everyone else had gone to bed.

A little shiver of excitement passed through her when she thought of taking a tumble with Connor.

Those relationships—if you could even call them relationships—were always brief and uncomplicated. That was all men seemed to want from her, which worked out just fine since she’d never wanted to get married. She didn’t even want to settle down. Not that she wouldn’t enjoy the companionship. She might have thought about kids someday way in the future, someone to take over the farm someday. But in her mind, to have kids you ought to be married, and marriage meant compromise, losing your identity. She wasn’t going to do that for anyone. Not after knowing what it had done to her momma.

Katherine had been from a wealthy Dallas family—a city girl. But when she’d met Will Windcroft she’d fallen desperately in love with him. She’d married him after only three months of courting and left the excitement of the big city for a simpler life on the horse-breeding farm. According to what Nita had been told, as happy as they appeared on the outside, deep down her momma missed her life in Dallas and never quite adjusted to the harsh conditions of the farm. But she knew Rose and Nita were happy there, and she loved Will too much to leave him. Not one to cause a fuss, she’d never told her husband how she felt, and tried to keep up the facade of the happy wife.

Nita sometimes wondered if the cancer had only been a symptom, and what her momma really died of was a broken heart. She would probably never know. What information she did have came from her sister and her mother’s old friends. Her daddy, all these years later, still wouldn’t talk about it. She knew there wasn’t a day that passed that he didn’t think about his wife and miss her terribly. Sometimes Nita would pass by his room and hear him talking to the picture of Katherine that he kept next to his bed.

She was sure Katherine was the reason why her daddy had raised Rose and Nita to be independent, to stand up for what they wanted and believed in. He taught them to follow their dreams and not compromise themselves for anyone or anything. Katherine was the reason why he hadn’t made a fuss about Rose moving to the city instead of staying to help on the farm. Rose always had been like their mother in that way.

Nita heard a soft snoring sound and realized Connor had fallen asleep.

She sat back on his thighs and grinned. She really had worn him out. He’d done pretty well today considering his lack of experience. She had a feeling he was the adaptable sort, though she hadn’t completely figured him out yet. He was so guarded, so…controlled. He seemed to say exactly the right thing all the time, whether it was what he was feeling or not. The concept was foreign to her, since, as they had determined earlier, she wasn’t shy about speaking her mind.

She grazed her fingers over the puckered skin on his back. Burns, bullet holes—what he must have seen, must have been through. No wonder his eyes looked so old. So…wounded.

She very gently climbed off the bed and tiptoed to the door. She wouldn’t mind getting into Connor’s head, seeing exactly what made him tick. She wouldn’t mind getting to know other parts of him as well. She wondered if a guy like him would be interested in a woman like her. It might have been her imagination, but when she’d stepped up on the porch that morning, before he realized who she was, she could swear she’d seen male appreciation in his eyes.

That, she decided, flicking off the light and glancing back at his peacefully sleeping form, would be something worth looking into.

“The number one rule on the farm is safety,” Nita told Connor. She stood in the corral with Buttercup, a chocolate-brown mare.

Apparently her back massage had done the trick last night. He’d awoken that morning feeling refreshed and full of energy. So far he’d followed her through her daily routine and had learned how to feed and water the horses, how to muck a stall and how to put on a halter and saddle.

A great deal of what they did was hot, dirty, physically demanding work. But it was good, honest work. And though he couldn’t put his finger on the exact reason, there was something about it that made him feel so…peaceful.

His orders now were to sit on the fence and observe as she trained the horse, and so he had for the past hour. Normally that would have had him crawling out of his skin, the way sitting behind a desk had. This was different. It was a beautiful fall day, with blue skies as far as the eye could see, and though the air was cool, the sun felt warm on his back and shoulders.

Simply watching Nita was a treat in itself. She had a way with the big graceful animals, some kind of second sense. She could anticipate the horses every move, every thought. It was obvious she really loved what she did, loved them, and the feeling was most definitely mutual.

It was all he needed to see to convince him there was no way she would ever do anything to hurt her animals. The poisoned feed, the holes—there was no way she could have done it herself. She just wasn’t capable.

“When you approach a horse, especially in the corral, you never do it from behind,” Nita said. “Horses have a blind spot and they get startled easily. Make sure she can see you. And approach from the left if you can.”

“Why the left?” he asked.

“Because that’s the side they’re used to being handled on. Although Buttercup here is a big cream puff. It would take an awful lot to spook her. Isn’t that right girl,” Nita crooned, stroking the mare’s neck. As if answering her, the mare lowered her big head and nudged Nita’s shoulder.

“It’s all about respect,” she told him. “If you respect them, they’ll respect you.”

“You make it look so easy.”

“Believe me, it’s not always like this. I may not have bullet holes in me, but I’ve been bitten, kicked, thrown from the saddle and stomped on more times than I can count. I like the challenge.” She stroked the horse’s neck, affection in her eyes. “Not that I don’t appreciate a horse like Buttercup every now and then.”

“Is she yours?”

“She belongs to a family in Fort Worth. I’m training her for their daughter. I’ll miss her, though. She’s a real sweetheart.”

“How long do you usually have a horse you’re training?”

“It could take a month, sometimes two. Sometimes even longer. It just depends on what they’ll be using the horse for, and how it takes to the training.” She looked over at him. “You sure this isn’t boring you to tears?”

He was finding it all quite interesting. Horse farming had never been something he imagined himself enjoying. The truth was, he never much considered anything but his chosen course, first with the army, then taking his father’s place at the engineering firm, though technically speaking, that hadn’t been chosen by him. He followed in his father’s footsteps because that’s what had been expected of him. To make up where his rebellious twin brother lacked.

Not that his father ever noticed.

“I’m sure,” he told Nita.

She shrugged. “Okay. I guess we’re about done here.”

She called to one of the hands and instructed the young man to take Buttercup and set her out to pasture with the other horses, then she and Connor walked toward the stable together.

“We need to talk about security for the house and the stables,” he said.

“What kind of security?”

“An alarm to start.”

She frowned up at him. “You really think that’s necessary?”

“I do. Clint Andover, another member of the Cattleman’s Club, is a security expert. I’d like to have him out to evaluate the property and tell you exactly what you would need.”

She took off her hat and drew a sleeve across her forehead. “An alarm sounds expensive.”

“I’m not going to lie to you. It probably will be.”

“Connor, I can’t—”

“Don’t worry Nita, we’ll figure something out.”

Up went the chin. “I’m not a charity case.”

“I’m not suggesting you are. I was thinking maybe you could set up some sort of deferred payment plan.”

Meaning, he could pay Clint and when Nita made payments to Clint, he would divert the money back to Connor. It was the only way they could make it work, because he knew she would never take money from him.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it. He lived a pretty simple life. Being in the Rangers meant active service, and missions all over the world at a moment’s notice. He could be gone for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. The less complicated his life, the better. No houseplants to water, no pets to board, no significant other left behind to wonder if he would return home in a pine box. And he’d grown so used to living that way, it was permanently ingrained in his personality. He had more money than he would ever spend sitting around gaining interest. It seemed a waste not to use it on something.

“I don’t like the idea of owing anyone money,” Nita said.

“At least let me call him and see what he has to say. It’s worth the safety of the people and the animals here. And it could be good for business.”

She looked up at him, squinting against the afternoon sun. Even with her eyes half-closed they were the brightest he’d ever seen. “How do you figure?”

“If you can advertise that you have a state-of-the-art security system, that would eliminate the threat of having the horses harmed. You could very well get back the business you lost.”

Nita shook her head, her mouth in a grim line.

“What’s the matter?”

“This is so wrong. Five years ago, we would have never even considered needing an alarm to keep the animals safe. It’s the Devlins doing this.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

Nothing he said, no argument he could make, would convince her otherwise. “At least try to keep an open mind until we get some proof.”

“And when is that going to happen? It feels like all we’re doing now is sitting around waiting for the next attack.”

“People are working on it.”

“The Cattleman’s Club,” she said, and he only looked at her.

“Should I make the call?”

She hesitated for a second, then shrugged. “What the heck. I guess it can’t hurt to hear what the man has to say.”

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. When Clint’s secretary answered, she told him Clint would be out of town a couple of days, but would get back to Connor as soon as possible.

He relayed the message to Nita. “I’ll let you know when he calls me.”

They continued toward the stable when Nita heard a car engine, and turned to see a dark BMW pulling up the driveway.

“Who is that?” Connor asked, stepping slightly in front of her, something she was sure he did automatically, from being in the military.

“That would be Gretchen Halifax.”

“Gretchen Halifax? What does she want?”

It was pretty obvious Connor didn’t like the woman, not a big surprise considering she was running against his brother for mayor. “Probably to see her horse. We board him for her.”

“That bitch-on-wheels has a horse? What for?”

“How should I know? It’s business. She’s one of the few boarders I have who didn’t pull out after the feed was poisoned. I may not like her, either, but her money is as good as anyone else’s.”

Gretchen parked close to the house and got out of her car. She was dressed in a business suit and high-heeled pumps, and her hair was professionally sculpted into an indestructible shell. The woman reeked of old money. “Hello, Nita,” she called.

“Hello, Gretchen.” Nita walked over to meet her and noticed that Connor hung back, his Stetson pulled low. She took in Gretchen’s designer outfit. “Guess you’re not here to take Silver Dollar for a ride.”

Gretchen smiled that phony, politician’s smile of hers. The one that made Nita’s skin crawl. “Not this time. I just happened to be in the area and I wanted to come by to tell you how sorry I am that your father was hurt. Is he going to be all right?”

“He’ll be good as new in no time. Thanks for asking. Gretchen, have you met Mr. Thorne?”

Nita waved Connor over knowing that with his hat on Gretchen could easily mistake him for Jake, which, considering the fleeting look of distaste on her face, she had.

“Connor Thorne,” Nita added. “Jake’s brother.”

“What a pleasure.” The plastic smile slid into place and she held out a hand for him to shake.

With a slight hesitation, Connor shook it. “Ms. Halifax.”

When Gretchen turned to Nita, Connor wiped his hand on his pant leg.

“I’m not one to listen to rumors,” Gretchen said. “But I’ve heard you’ve fallen into hard times. Is there anything I can do to help?”

How about you throw on a pair of boots and muck a stall, Nita was tempted to say, but held her tongue. “We’re okay, Gretchen, thanks for asking.”

“I’ve always admired your family and their hard work. I’d even consider a partnership with you if it came down to it.”

Over my dead body, Nita thought, wondering what the woman could possibly gain by offering her help. Women like Gretchen Halifax didn’t do anything out of the goodness of their hearts. She used people for her own personal gain. Maybe by owning a farm she thought she would be closer to the community somehow. No matter the reason, it would be a cold day in hell when Nita let Gretchen weasel her way into the family business.

“Those are just rumors,” Nita assured her. “We’re doing fine.”

“I’m so glad to hear it. You take such good care of Silver Dollar.”

And how she knew that, Nita wasn’t sure. Gretchen rarely came to see the horse and had only ridden her once for a photo shoot. Nita figured she’d bought it as some sort of campaign ploy, part of her political image.

“She’s a sweet horse,” Nita said.

“When I’m mayor,” Gretchen said, casting Connor a challenging look, “I’ll pressure the sheriff to put an end to the Windcroft-Devlin feud. And with the new policies I’ll be enforcing, you’ll be eligible for tax breaks that will benefit your business.”

Blah, blah, blah. Nita resisted rolling her eyes. If Gretchen thought that little pitch was going to win her Nita’s vote, she was wasting her time. Nita didn’t have anything against the woman personally. She just had a distaste for phony, self-serving people in general.

“Thanks for stopping by, Gretchen.” As in, get lost.

“Remember, if there’s anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to call.” Gretchen picked her way across the gravel drive and got into her car, waving before she drove away.

“I feel like I need to go wash my hand,” Connor said from behind Nita.

“Why?” Nita teased, turning to him. “She give you cooties?”

He had a look of thorough disgust on his face. “Does she really think people fall for that fake nice routine?”

“I hear that Malcolm Durmorr is smitten with her.”

“Malcolm is even sleazier than she is,” Connor said.

“What’d she want?” Jimmy called to them. He was loading tools into the back of the pickup.

“Came to see how we’re doing,” Nita told him, walking over to the truck. “Wants to help out if she can.”

Jimmy shook his head. “That one gives me a serious case of the creeps.”

“You off to fix those fences?”

He tossed a bundle of precut wood boards in the bed. “Yep. It should take most of the afternoon.”

“I’ll be in the office for the rest of the day,” Nita said. “Why don’t you take Connor with you?”

“Actually, I think I’ll hang back,” Connor said. He didn’t like the idea of Nita in the house all by herself. On the off-chance that someone would risk harming her in the middle of the afternoon, he was going to be there to intervene.

“There’s nothing for you to do in the house and Jimmy could use the help.”

He could see this was going to be a problem, and looked to Jimmy for a little help. The old man picked up on his silent plea.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle on my own,” Jimmy told Nita.

“I know it isn’t, but it’ll go a lot faster with another man helping, and Connor wanted to learn all about raising horses. That means everything.” She pinned her eyes on Connor. “Even the things you don’t think are much fun.”

“This is not about the entertainment value of the work. And I’m going to regretfully decline.”

“Regretfully decline?” She propped her hands on her hips and her eyes turned stormy. “According to our arrangement, you work for me now. That means taking orders.”

He held his ground, but he didn’t see this ending well. She’d dug her heels in and it looked as if she wasn’t going to budge. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”

Her anger level went from zero to sixty in about half a second. “You’re here to keep an eye on the farm, aren’t you? So go keep an eye on it!”

He was going to have to tell her the truth about what his real orders were. And she wasn’t going to like it. “I’m not here to protect the farm,” he said.

Now she just looked confused. “Then what the heck are you here for?”

“I’m here to protect you.”