by Linda Turner
Her sudden insecurity caught him off guard. She saw the surprise flare in his eyes, then a tenderness that was nearly her undoing. Cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand, he gently rubbed her bottom lip with his thumb. "You're perfect."
"My hair's going to be wild when it's unbraided."
Far from concerned, he only grinned crookedly at her. "I like you wild."
"I wasn't talking about me," she whispered as her lip started to throb where he rubbed her. "I was talking about my hair."
"I like you wild," he repeated, this time in a voice that sounded like sandpaper. Leaning down, he kissed the feminine braids of her red hair. "I like your hair wild. I like it when I kiss your neck and it turns you on."
Suiting his actions to his words, he pressed a lingering kiss to the side of her neck, and smiled against her sensitive skin when she moaned softly and moved under him. "And best of all," he murmured thickly, "I like it when you call my name when we're making love and you're all hot and wild and I am, too.
"Call my name, sweetheart," he urged as he kissed his way slowly back up her neck and began to ease her dress from her. "I want to hear you call my name."
Sighing at the feel of his hands on her, she opened her mouth to do just that, but suddenly he was kissing her, making love to her with his mouth and hands and body, and she couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but feel. And he felt wonderful!
His hands stroked her breasts and teased her nipples and with nothing more than that, he had her shuddering. Then her clothes were gone and so were his, and he was lighting fires under her skin with the flick of his tongue. Her mind blurring, she clung to him, a sob tearing from her throat as he moved down her body and claimed it as his.
She thought she would die from the pleasure of it. He teased her and seduced her and turned her inside out in a way no man ever had, until she was wild with wanting him. But it wasn't until he moved over her, in her, his hips setting a pace that stole her breath right out of her lungs, that she finally called his name. "Lorenzo!"
With nothing more than that, she nearly destroyed him. Groaning, he kissed her fiercely. Sweet girl, she didn't have a clue how she delighted him. He should have told her, but he wanted her too badly to say the words. Caught up in the heat and fire of her, he could feel himself coming undone, and even though he wanted nothing more than to drag out the pleasure, it was too late. His control snapped, and with a hoarse cry, he buried his face against her neck and lost himself in her just as she shattered. And the last thing he heard was Eliza calling his name.
" Lorenzo... Lorenzo... Lorenzo..."
* * *
She was falling in love with him.
Staring at the snow-covered countryside as they headed for the Chambers ranch after breakfast the next morning, Eliza couldn't understand how she'd let this happen. He was a duke, for heaven's sake! There was no place in his life for a gossip columnist. She shouldn't have had to be reminded of that.
Still, she'd lost her heart to him, and it was tearing her apart. From the directions Mr. Johnson had given her, they were already halfway to the Chambers ranch. In less than a half hour, Lorenzo would come face-to-face with the prince, and she would get her exclusive.. .end of tale. End of the time she and Lorenzo had had together. End of the dreams she hadn't even realized she had.
And it hurt. More than she'd ever dreamed possible.
"Is something wrong?"
His husky question shattered the quiet that had kept them company all morning. Pain squeezing her heart, she wanted to tell him that she loved him—the words were right there on her tongue—but her head warned her not to be an idiot. Women made fools of themselves all the time by throwing themselves at him—she wouldn't add her name to the list. She had more pride than that.
So she locked away her hurt deep in her heart and forced a smile that didn't come easily. "No, I'm just looking for the entrance to the ranch. It should be coming up, and Mr. Johnson said you'll drive right past it without even knowing it if you're not careful."
"And it's right after a big boulder on the left?"
She nodded. "You must be excited about seeing the prince again."
He knew what she was doing, turning his attention from her to Lucas, and for a moment, he almost called her on it. She'd been quiet all morning, and although she'd tried to hide it, he'd seen the sadness in her eyes. He felt it, too. And they needed to talk about it, dammit! Ignoring the situation wasn't going to make it go away.
But she wasn't ready to discuss it, and there wasn't time, anyway. Glancing at the odometer, he realized they should have reached the entrance to the Chambers ranch. Slowing down, he searched for the boulder that marked the entrance and had just about decided he'd missed it when he saw it up ahead.
"There it is," he told Eliza, nodding toward the granite boulder that was nearly lost beneath a snow drift. "Thank God we've got four-wheel drive. We're going to need it."
The entrance hadn't been plowed recently, but he was able to avoid the deeper drifts, and moments later, they were on the Chambers ranch and winding through the trees toward the main house. From a distance, the place looked deserted, and it didn't look much different when Lorenzo pulled up in front of the house a few minutes later. The shades were drawn, no smoke spiraled from the chimney and the garage door was shut, so it was impossible to see if anyone was home.
Swearing softly under her breath, Eliza said, "I was hoping we could talk to the owner, but it looks like no one's here."
"Let's check behind the house," Lorenzo said, cutting the motor. "If Lucas is really working here, he's probably staying in some kind of bunkhouse or hired hand's cabin."
It went without saying that a hired hand wouldn't be laying in bed at nine-thirty on a beautiful winter morning— the day started early on a working ranch. If they were lucky, they would find something of his in the bunkhouse that would verify that he really was working there. Then all they would have to do was wait until someone came home.
Climbing out of the truck, they began walking around the garage to the back of the house. The snow drifts were higher there, and if they hadn't both been watching where they were walking, they might have seen the beat-up Jeep parked just inside the open doors of the barn.. .and the man who was trying to jimmy open the back door of the house with a tire iron. As it was, they didn't even notice either one, and the burglar was equally engrossed in what he was doing. Then Eliza stepped on the back porch.
"Oh, my God!" Startled, she stumbled to a halt and took in the scene in a single glance.
Behind her, Lorenzo did the same. "What the hell?"
As surprised as they, the burglar whirled to face them, and in the process, dropped the tire iron. He, however, was quicker to react than they were. Before they could so much as blink, he grabbed Eliza, jerked her arm up behind her back, and snatched a gun from where it was tucked in the waistband of his jeans. Eliza was still gasping when he pressed the cold barrel of the revolver to her temple.
"Back off, buddy," the man snapped at Lorenzo when he swore and took a step toward them, "or the lady buys one in the head!"
Unarmed and furious with himself for allowing Eliza to be endangered while she was in his care, Lorenzo froze. "Let her go," he growled. "Now!"
"I don't think so," he laughed nastily. "She's my ticket out of here."
To her credit, Eliza didn't get hysterical as most of the women Lorenzo knew would have. She was scared—he could see it in her eyes—but she was also livid. Refusing to cry out in pain when the bastard shoved her arm higher up her back, she warned, "You're in enough trouble already. Don't make it worse by adding kidnapping to breaking and entering. Let me go and we can just pretend this never happened."
Far from worried, her captor only mocked, "Nice try, but you're not exactly in a position to be making deals. Now tell your boyfriend to get the hell out of my way.. .or you can start saying your prayers."
"Tell him yourself," she retorted. "If you think I'm going to help you kidnap me,
you're crazy!"
Watching her, Lorenzo didn't know if he wanted to hug her or shake her for standing up to the thug. The jackass had a gun to her head, dammit! Didn't she realize this wasn't the time to be uncooperative? If she pushed him too far, he would shoot her. Oh, she might not think so, but she couldn't see the man's eyes. There was no remorse there, no emotion whatsoever. And that scared the hell out of Lorenzo. He'd seen his kind before, and he knew better than to underestimate him.
Holding up his hand in a calming manner, he said, "Let's talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about," the other man snarled, his patience at an end. "Move! I've got a car in the barn, and me and your lady friend are getting the hell out of here."
His heart thundering with fear for Eliza, Lorenzo had no intention of just standing there and letting the bastard drive off with her. But he also wouldn't be responsible for her death. He'd never be able to live with himself. His mind scrambling for a plan, he took a slow step to the side, giving the thug free access to the porch steps behind him.
"Lorenzo, no!" Eliza cried, stricken.
Never taking his eyes off the other man, he wanted to reassure her that he wasn't letting her go anywhere without him, but he didn't dare. "I don't have any choice," he said, pretending to capitulate. "He'll kill you if I don't."
"He'll kill me if you do!" she retorted, clinging to the hard male arm that threatened to crush her windpipe as her captor backed toward the steps. "Dammit, let go of me!"
"Shut up!"
Fury glinting in his soulless eyes, he dragged her with him to the edge of the porch and felt blindly behind him for the steps. Watching him like a hawk, Lorenzo knew this was the only opportunity he was likely to get. If the bastard managed to get her to the barn and in his car, she would probably never be seen or heard from again.
And Eliza knew that as well as he did. She was as pale as a ghost, her eyes silently pleading for his help. Rage burning in him that anyone would dare to try to hurt her, he sent her a silent message, warning her to be ready for anything. She was so scared, however, that Lorenzo couldn't be sure that she understood. And there was no time for second chances. Just as her captor's foot blindly found the porch step, he misjudged the width of it and momentarily lost his balance. He caught himself almost immediately, but it was too late. The gun slipped from its position against Eliza's temple, and with a growl that came from deep in his gut, Lorenzo launched himself at her attacker.
"Now, Eliza!"
At his signal, she went boneless, just like he'd hoped she would, and suddenly, her captor found himself struggling with a limp woman and an attacker who was flying right at him and looked ready to take his head off. That's when the gun went off.
Stunned, Lorenzo's heart stopped dead in his chest just as he plowed into the burglar and knocked him free of Eliza. "You bastard!" he snarled, pummeling him as they rolled across the snow. "You shot her!"
"No!" Eliza cried, scrambling up to grab the gun that had fallen at her feet. "I'm all right, Lorenzo. The bullet just went through my sleeve. Look!"
Shaking, but somehow managing to keep the gun steady on the man who had nearly killed her, she held up her arm, showing him the hole where the bullet had pierced the thick material of her sheepskin coat. "I'm all right," she assured him again. "He didn't hurt me."
He may not have, but it wasn't from lack of trying. Staring at her sleeve and seeing how close the bullet had come to her delicate skin, he realized he could have lost her. In a split second, if the trajectory of the bullet had been slightly different, he could have lost her. And that's when it hit him. He loved her.
Stunned, he wanted to reach for her, to wrap her close and never let her go. Most of all, he wanted to tell her. The words were right there on his tongue, begging to be said. But this was hardly the time or place. First, he had to take care of the man who had nearly killed her.
Subduing the thug, he jerked him to his feet and just dared him to try to get away. "If he so much as moves an eyebrow, shoot him," he told Eliza, then reached for his cell phone. Punching in 9-1 -1, he growled, "I need the sheriff to come to the Chambers ranch. A burglar just tried to shoot my girlfriend."
Chapter 11
What the hell's going on here?"
Waiting for the sheriff, and in the process of tying up the burglar with some rope he'd retrieved from the barn, Lorenzo whirled at the question to find a woman approaching, irritation glinting in her blue eyes as she inadvertently stepped in a drift and she sank up to her calf in snow. "Damn snow," she muttered to herself. "I should have headed for California after my stunt in New York. Not here."
All his senses on alert, Lorenzo assumed she was the owner of the place, but he wasn't taking any chances. Stepping closer to Eliza, who'd taken a firmer grip on the gun at the first sound of the new visitor's voice, he ignored the woman's question and said instead, "This is a matter for the sheriff, Miss. Who are you?"
"Ursula Chambers," she snapped. "The owner." Only just then noticing the gun that Eliza still held on the burglar, she gasped, "My God, what happened? Who are you people? What are you doing here?"
"They're robbers," the burglar said before Lorenzo could come up with a suitable story that wouldn't give away his and Eliza's identity and the real reason they were there. "I caught them trying to break into the place and tried to make a citizen's arrest, but they overpowered me. You've got to help me, lady."
"That's a lie!" Eliza cried, outraged. "We caught him trying to break in, then he pulled a gun on me and tried to kidnap me so he could get away."
"So what were you two doing here?" she retorted. "How do I know you weren't trying to break in, too? Who are you?"
Shooting Eliza a warning look, Lorenzo had no intention of revealing his real identity to Ursula Chambers. She seemed honest enough, but until he found Lucas and saw with his own two eyes that he was safe and sound, he wasn't telling anyone who he was or why he was in Colorado. "I'm Lawrence Peters," he lied, "and this is my fiancee, Elizabeth Rawlings. Some friends of ours from Colorado Springs stayed at a fantastic bed-and-breakfast somewhere around here last summer, and we were trying to find it. Obviously, we took a wrong turn somewhere. We'd just decided we were in the wrong place when we stumbled across this joker trying to rob you. As soon as the sheriff gets here and we give him ai statement, we'll get out of your hair."
Studying him, Ursula almost believed him. But she'd been around the block a few times, and she didn't believe in coincidence. The ranch was ten miles from town and not an easy place to find—people didn't just wander in off the street by accident. They were here for a reason, and any first grader could have figured out why. The prince.
She couldn't say she blamed them. She was there for the same reason.
Oh, she didn't have to break in, but she, too, wanted to search the house to see if Prince Lucas had left behind anything of value, and Jessica hadn't made that easy for her. Still sick at heart over Joe's leaving, she'd done nothing but cry for days now. Finally, unable to bear the memories.. .and the loneliness.. .of the ranch anymore, she'd packed her things and come to stay with Ursula for a while.
And Ursula hadn't had a moment to herself since.
It wasn't that she didn't care about her sister, she told herself. She did. But, geez Louise, she had things to do—like search the ranch house, bunkhouse and barn from top to bottom to see if Joe left anything behind—and she couldn't do that with Jessica underfoot. She'd never approve. In spite of the fact that the good prince had left her high and dry with a baby in her tummy, the little idiot still had him up on a pedestal like he was some kind of Greek god or something. She refused to let Ursula contact the king and queen about the baby—she was convinced Joe would come back to her on his own.. .because he loved her.
Yeah, right, Ursula thought sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She'd tell that to the tooth fairy the next time she saw her. In the meantime, she didn't have the luxury of fairy tales. She was high and dry, with no career, no boyfriend, in H
ickstown, U.S.A. And unlike her lucky sister, she wasn't carrying a royal baby. She had to look out for herself, and by God, that was what she was going to do. Given the chance, she planned to use the prince by whatever means necessary to make some money.
But damn, Jessica didn't make it easy for her. She'd been her shadow for days now and had refused to let her out of her sight. Then, this morning, Jessica herself had inadvertently opened a door for her to get away for a little while when she'd mentioned over breakfast that she was worried about the ranch. Seeing her chance, she'd immediately offered to drive out there and make sure everything was okay. For a moment, she'd been afraid Jessica was going to go with her, but tears had gathered in her eyes just at the mention of the ranch. She'd gladly let Ursula go by herself.
Thrilled, Ursula had thought she had it made in the shade. Jessica would expect her to be gone for a while, and so she would have all the time she needed to go through the house. She'd never dreamed that someone would try to beat her to the punch.
Her eyes narrowing on the man who called himself Lawrence Peters, she wondered where she'd seen him before. There was something vaguely familiar about him. "You said you're from Colorado Springs, Mr. Peters?"
"No, our friends live there," he said easily. "We're from a small town east of there."
She highly doubted that, but all she said was, "I see. And what do you do for a living, if you don't mind me asking?"
"No, not at all," he assured her. "To tell you the truth, I don't do a damn thing. Well, I sold insurance until last month. That's when my grandmother died and left me a fortune. Elizabeth and I both quit our jobs, and we've been trying to decide what we want to do with the money. I'd like to buy a ranch."
"And I want a bed-and-breakfast," the woman he referred to as "Elizabeth" chimed in, smiling. "I just think they're so quaint, don't you?"
"So that's why you were looking for the bed-andbreakfast," she concluded, putting two and two together and not buying it for a second. "I suppose it was on a ranch."