She Can Tell

by Melinda Leigh

  “OK. I’ll be at Rachel’s early to work on her security system. You’re going to get some sleep, right?”

  “I don’t know. I’m worried about Rachel and her sister. The fire has me thinking there’s something going on I haven’t figured out yet. What?”

  Sean was staring at him. “I have never seen you this hung up on a woman.”

  Mike sighed. “I don’t understand it either.”

  “Some things defy logic.” Sean grinned. “But if I were you, I’d buy some fresh condoms. They do expire over the course of a decade.”

  “Mine aren’t quite as old as that.” But they weren’t fresh by any stretch of the imagination. “And I think you’re getting ahead of things. I’m not going to sleep with her.”

  “Sure you’re not.” Sean didn’t sound convinced as he rinsed out his beer bottle and placed it in the recycling bin under the sink. “You trust me, right?”

  Mike rolled his eyes. “Of course I do. We’ve been best friends since the third grade.”

  “I’ll have a man at her house in thirty minutes.”

  Mike didn’t know what to say.

  “Before you find an argument, no one gets past my guys. Rachel and her sister will be perfectly safe. If you want, he can be invisible. They won’t even know he’s there.”

  Mike was so tired, he felt like putting his head on the counter and closing his eyes. The trek to the bedroom might not even be necessary. There was no reason not to take Sean up on his offer. Mike’s weird caveman instinct toward Rachel, that he should be the one guarding her, was totally irrational. What mattered was that she—they were safe. Besides, getting behind the wheel as tired as he was right now would be dangerous and stupid. “OK.”

  “You aren’t going to be worth shit if you don’t get some sleep, and you have a crime spree to stop. Plus, Quinn is watching your sorry ass. You start looking any worse, he’s coming after you.” Sean stopped. His brow furrowed. “Wait a minute. Did you agree with me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, shit. You didn’t even argue. You must feel worse than I thought.”

  Mike didn’t comment.

  Sean whipped out his phone and shot out a few messages. “My guy will stay until I get there to start on the security system tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Sean. Lock up when you leave.” Mike trudged toward the bedroom before he passed out on his feet. He collapsed facedown on top of the quilt.

  “You know, there’s one question you haven’t asked.”

  Mike rolled over.

  Sean stood in the doorway. “Why Vince has been gunning for you since he took office. There’s only one reason I can think of for Vince’s actions: guilt.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rachel stripped off her barn-cleaning clothes and quickly showered off before dressing in riding pants and a clean T-shirt. Downstairs, she grabbed a Pop-Tart from the kitchen and stepped out into the overcast afternoon. Sean, the security guy, and his assistants were pulling stuff out of the back of their van. A ginormous white SUV was parked next to the commercial vehicle. Down by the barn, David was rolling his commercial paint sprayer toward his truck.

  Rachel crossed the rear lawn, stopping at the tree to give the frustrated Bandit a pat and a corner of her pastry. “Sorry, buddy. Can’t let you nip any of the workers.”

  Rachel approached the barn. Fresh white paint gleamed. “Thanks, David. I can’t believe one coat covered all that, and in just a few hours.”

  “The right equipment helps.” David blushed and held up the paint gun in his hand. “I used heavy-duty primer so the red doesn’t bleed through. Top coat might have to wait, though. This morning’s weather report showed more rain on the way.”

  Despite the prospect of an incoming storm, Rachel beamed. The absence of profanity lifted her mood. Behind her, tires crunched on the gravel of the driveway. Rachel turned as Sarah parked her minivan next to the Wilson Security truck. Her sister got out of the van and sprung the girls from their car seats. The kids ran to greet a joyously jumping and yapping Bandit.

  Holding a grocery bag in her good arm, Sarah walked over to Rachel and David. Her sister’s gait was smoother than the day before. “Do you have time for lunch, David?”

  “Sure.” David nodded. “Give me a few minutes to clean up.”

  “Rachel, are you hungry?” Sarah asked.

  “I have to some work to do first.” She’d lost too much time this morning going over the proposed alarm system with Sean. “You go ahead.”

  Rachel strode into the barn. A hoof banged on wood. The only horse in the barn, the obnoxious gray, stuck his head over his half door and whinnied.

  “Relax. I have one thing to do. Then you and I are going to spend some quality time together.” Though the horse’s issue was his inexperienced rider, Rachel would do everything she could to make the animal a safer mount. Even if that meant riding it every day to burn off excess energy before Lucia arrived for her lesson.

  In the feed room, she cleaned the dust from the bottom of the empty bin and grabbed a new fifty-pound bag of pellets from the raised pallet in the corner. Still sore from the previous night, old scar tissue in her shoulder ached as she dragged the bag across the floor. She stopped to rest for a minute, then squatted and hugged the bag. She stood up and hoisted the bag onto the edge of the bin.

  “What the hell are you doing?” A deep, annoyed voice from the doorway startled her.

  She fumbled with the bag. Mike stepped through the doorway. He took two long strides and lifted it from her grip one-handed. Under the uniform shirt, biceps bulged, but his face was flushed with anger, not effort, as he dumped the pellets into the container. “This is way too heavy for you.” He moved closer, looming over her.

  Rachel didn’t back off. The knowledge that he was right sent a stab of irritation through her. It wasn’t like she enjoyed the backbreaking manual labor. As soon as her budget allowed, she’d be more than happy to hire help of the younger, stronger variety. Until then, chores needed to be finished. “Look, He-Man, I appreciate the concern, but I have a business to run. I can’t wait for a big, strong man every time there’s heavy work to be done.”

  His expression went to that exasperated look she seemed to cultivate from him. The blue of his eyes darkened as he stared at her. Warmth radiated through her belly, almost making her forget why she’d just been annoyed at him.

  “Well, you should. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  As much as she hated admitting weakness, her shoulder still throbbed with every beat of her heart. She blew out a hard, frustrated breath. “While you’re here, can you throw another one of those bags in there?”

  Mike hoisted the fifty-pound sack and filled the bin like he was pouring a bowl of cereal. Show-off.

  “Thank you.” Rachel crossed the aisle to the tack room, a ten-by-ten space that accumulated dust no matter how often she swept it. The sweet smells of glycerin soap and leather filled her nose as she lifted her saddle. She settled it on a rack in the aisle. A humid breeze wafted through the double doors.

  Mike leaned on the wooden wall and crossed his arms across an acre of chest. “Should you really still be riding?”

  Rachel couldn’t answer. Her eyes burned, and her throat tightened. But it wasn’t irritation from last night’s smoke causing her discomfort. It was the same question she’d been struggling with for two years. If she couldn’t ride, what would she do? She had no contacts outside of the horse business. She was not a social person. The only time she didn’t feel like an outcast was on the back of a horse. It was where she belonged. Avoiding his gaze, she moved back into the tack room for a bridle.

  “I saw the video of your fall.”

  Heat rushed to Rachel’s face, anger and shame competing with self-pity for top emotional billing. One moment, one reflex failure was all it had taken to ruin her career and an incredible horse’s legs. Stepping back into the aisle, she faced him and gritted her teeth.

  “It’s on YouTube.”
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  “Wonderful.”

  “My point is you shouldn’t be doing stuff like this. You’re only going to make it worse. You should find another line of work.”

  She shot a finger into the center of his broad, hard chest. It was like poking a boulder. “Like what? In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly a people person.”

  Sympathy crossed his face. Rachel closed her eyes. Mike wasn’t to blame for her predicament. The fall had been her fault. She hauled back on her temper and counted to ten. He didn’t interrupt, just stood there with all that damned understanding in his eyes. “Look, it’s the only thing I know how to do. The only thing I ever wanted to do.” Her voice faltered, and she regretted the admission of vulnerability the second it left her mouth. Think first, talk second. Such a simple concept shouldn’t be this hard to implement.

  Mike’s eyes softened. “I wouldn’t want to see you hurt like that again.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “Tell me about last night. You’re sure no one knew you would be at the municipal building?”

  “I didn’t even know I’d be there.” Rachel gave him a quick rundown of her impromptu stop at the clerk’s office.

  “Where did you get those bruises?” His eyes narrowed on her forearm, where last night’s groper had left angry finger marks.

  She told him about the men in the crowd. To avoid his eyes, and her humiliation, when she got to the nasty grabby part, she ducked back into the tack room for a saddle pad. “David said the ringleader’s name was Will Martin. I didn’t actually see him do it, but I’m pretty sure it was him. Big guy, dark blue eyes, hairy, chip on his shoulder the size of Jupiter.”

  When she turned around, he’d followed her into the small space, his size dwarfing the room. Moving closer, close enough that she could smell his mouthwatering aftershave, he caged her against the wall and held out his empty hand, palm up. Rachel’s pulse trembled. Her fingers tightened on the fleece pad in her hands. She looked up, expecting heat. But his face had gone hard, his eyes cold as a clear winter sky.

  “Let me see it.”

  “It doesn’t hurt.”

  He cocked his head to one side and gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her. She blinked first.

  “Let me see it,” he repeated more deliberately.

  She should protest, move, do something to put some space between them. She didn’t allow anyone to corner her. But Mike overwhelmed her senses, shut off her ingrained defensive reactions. “It’s no big deal.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Please.”

  She wasn’t prepared for his soft request. Her arm moved all without any consultation with her brain. Surrendered without even the pretense of resistance. The saddle pad slid from her grip and landed on the floor. Mike’s freakishly polite manners threw her off her stride. Rachel was more comfortable with hostility and confrontation than his calm, reasonable routine.

  Mike closed his fingers around her slender wrist and examined the darkening bruises.

  Rachel willed her heart to slow its manic contractions, but it defied her. Her pulse rapped against his thumb as if it were trying to get his attention. He rotated her arm to look at the marks. A featherlight fingertip caressed her skin, and her heartbeat jumped for joy.

  She tugged at her arm, but he didn’t give it up, managing to keep his fingers closed without exerting any additional pressure on her skin. His grip was a padded vise. Strangely, it wasn’t the restraint that bugged her, but her reaction to it. Her body was waving a white flag. A strange thrill bubbled up inside her as a frightening thought passed through her mind: at this moment she’d do anything he asked. And probably like it. A lot. He’d be gentle—and patient, the kind of patient that could eat up an entire night. The shiver that sprinted down her spine and raced into her belly was all hot liquid.

  The intensity and hunger on Mike’s face brought a flush to Rachel’s whole body. When his hand snaked out and caught her around the back of the neck, she didn’t exactly fight him. He tilted her face up and crushed his mouth down on hers.

  His mouth was hot and demanding. Her blood roared, and her body responded all on its own, pressing itself up against every steely inch of him. The small, dusty room vanished. He tasted like peppermint. All she could smell was the warm scent that drove her crazy. He pulled his head away, but she hadn’t had enough. Not nearly enough. That kiss had been an appetizer when she was hungry for a meal. Her fingers clenched his uniform shirt lapels, and she yanked his mouth back down to hers. She wanted to wrap herself around him. She wanted him pressed against every inch of her skin. She wanted him under her, on top of her, inside of her. Skin to skin.

  She wanted it all.

  Mike turned his head, angling his mouth to dive deeper. His tongue slid across hers, and his hands drifted down to her body, cupping her ass and squeezing. Her palms splayed on his pectorals. She leaned even closer, until their bodies were in contact from mouth to hip and she could feel the massive erection straining the front of his pants. Oh, baby. All his body parts were in proportion. One leg hooked over his thigh, pulling that I-beam of a hard-on exactly where she wanted it. He pressed into her. Yes. Oh, God. Yes. Right there.

  Her eyes closed, and all she could do was feel. The heat and raw power under her hands, against her body, pressuring her core, made her limbs tremble.

  Liquid fire flared deep in her belly. But that wasn’t the only part of her that was heating up. Mike’s embrace fanned a yearning, something she’d never experienced before and would’ve never missed had she not felt it. Something shifted inside her as this man softened the tough shell around her heart.

  What the hell just happened?

  She opened her eyes. He lifted his mouth an inch from hers. He was searching her face as if he were looking for the answer to the same question.

  “I don’t like the thought of another man’s hands on you. It makes me crazy. It makes me want to break him in pieces.” He breathed the words out against her mouth. His lungs were heaving and sweat had broken out on his forehead. The blue of his eyes was nearly black with desire. He-Man’s iron self-control was slipping, all because of her. “What have you done to me?”

  Rachel froze. Even if the kiss hadn’t left her breathless, she didn’t have an answer for him. His statement had a possessive edge that was making all the melty parts of her tense up again. She let her leg slowly slide back down to the ground, patted his uniform shirt into place, and smoothed out the wrinkles. For once in her life, she was speechless. Her brain mirrored his question. What had he done to her?

  His eyes locked on hers. “What is it about you? You’re prickly and stubborn and reckless. Yet I can’t seem to get enough.” He pressed his forehead against hers in a surprising and unfamiliar gesture that highlighted the shift from sexual desire to something more intimate.

  Oh no. She couldn’t handle more. Look what she’d done to Blake. And what her mother had done to her father.

  She leaned away. A chill swept over her at the loss of contact—and at her loss of control. Was he just one more impulse decision? Something fueled by the tension built over the last few days?

  Her inability to commit to Blake had destroyed the best, the only, real friendship of her life. She couldn’t go through that again. The stakes were higher this time. Mike fostered hope inside her. He filled the lonely, hollow space beneath her breast bone. But what would happen when he figured out she wasn’t capable of giving the same back to him? Cold panic seeped through her skin and burrowed into her heart. Clammy sweat moistened her palms. She was breathless and lightheaded though her lungs were working like a fireplace bellows.

  She needed air. She put both hands to his chest and pushed him away. “I can’t do this.”

  The warmth in his eyes snuffed out like she’d doused a fire.

  “Fair enough.” Mike’s voice went tight. He took a giant step back. His hands clenched once, then dropped to his sides. “My behavior was unprofessional, and I apologize.”

/>   Rachel leaned over and picked up the saddle pad. She held it in front of her like a shield. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s me. I’m not ready for this. I’m used to losing control, letting my emotions run away with me, and regretting what happens. I don’t want to regret you.”

  Disappointment flooded Mike. She was already thinking she’d regret him. A minute ago, he’d been poised to risk his job, his whole life, to take whatever was brewing between them to the next step.

  She was used to losing control? Well, he wasn’t.

  Who was he kidding? Another minute or two and he would’ve made love to her right up against that wall. An image of her naked body wrapped around his sent a current of desire ripping through him.

  Maybe she was right. He didn’t understand the effect she had on him. Even after her rejection, his body still raged for her. Every time she was nearby, his carefully honed control deserted him like a coward running from battle. His divorce had left deep scars, but he’d never lost emotional control with Laura. Not once. Sure, his body had lusted after hers. His ex-wife modeled underwear. She was sin on stilettos. But his heart had never been in danger.

  He stared at Rachel. She was on the verge of hyperventilating. Her eyes were wide, her face pale. The hands that gripped the saddle blanket still trembled. What happened between them had shaken her as badly as him.

  She was absolutely nothing like Laura. Life with his ex-wife was full of melodrama, but it was the purposeful kind. Never once had she looked at him like he’d just rocked her body and soul with a kiss. Laura would’ve used him well before pushing him away, and then tried to keep him on a string.

  No, Rachel wasn’t manipulating him. She was terrified. More frightened than when Troy went after her with a baseball bat. She’d been damaged at some point in her life. Whatever baggage she was carrying was way heavier than his, and from her reaction, she had no interest in letting him share the burden. As different as Rachel was from Laura, the fact that he still wanted to help her despite her rejection proved that he was a doormat as far as women went.