Millionaire in a Stetson

by Barbara Dunlop

  “They never will,” Katrina said softly, her eyes clouding.

  “I take it you know why?”

  “I do. It’s complicated. They had a very strained relationship.”

  Niki was sorry, if not completely surprised to hear it. There was obvious tension whenever Wilton was mentioned.

  “Does it hurt them to have me here?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  “What?” Katrina seemed surprised by the question. “No. Of course not. This is your home.”

  Niki gave a sad smile at the irony. “It’s not my home. I’m little more than a stranger to you all.”

  “No more a stranger than I am,” said Katrina.

  “You were born here,” Niki returned. “Your sisters and brothers are here.”

  “So are yours.”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  The idea that Katrina could ever be considered a stranger to the Jacobs and Terrell families was preposterous. Even if she had spent many years at boarding school in New York City, Katrina had been the youngest Jacobs daughter her entire life. Everybody knew her. Everybody loved her.

  “I spend most of my life away from here,” said Katrina, continuing to sip her way through the glass of wine.

  Niki was grateful, but she wasn’t buying it. “I appreciate you trying to make me feel better.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing. Well, maybe a little bit. It’s obvious something’s wrong. Are you feeling bad because you don’t know much about Wilton?”

  “I don’t need to know much.” Niki downplayed her curiosity. She desperately wished she knew more about her father, good or bad.

  “The negativity and complexity have nothing to do with you.”

  “Whatever it is, I can handle it.” The assertion was out of Niki’s mouth before she realized it put Katrina in an awkward position.

  “I’m sorry,” she quickly added. “I didn’t mean—”

  “He was a cold, brutal man,” Katrina told her. Her expression somber.

  Brutal? “He beat them?”

  “By today’s standards, absolutely. But mostly, he was just plain nasty. He worked them into the ground, no empathy, no sympathy. Because of his temper, their mother died of pneumonia.”

  Niki had learned earlier that Sasha had died when Reed and Caleb were seventeen.

  “The poor woman was so utterly afraid of Wilton, that she never told anyone how sick she was feeling.”

  Niki swallowed.

  “Reed and Caleb both blamed Wilton for her death. To this day, they say he killed her. Back then, Caleb walked out, while Reed stayed to fight.”

  “I had no idea,” Niki whispered, feeling a little numb.

  Katrina topped up their glasses. “Of course you didn’t.”

  Niki gazed at the dark liquid. She couldn’t help thinking about her own mother, Gabriella’s rather calculating, manipulative character. “Nice genetics I’ve got going here.”

  Katrina tossed her blond hair. “The genetics haven’t done Reed any harm, nor Caleb, nor you.”

  Niki fought against the urge to confess who she was and what she was doing here. She might not beat anyone, but she certainly wasn’t a very good person.

  “My opinion,” said Katrina. “Wilton was a phenomenon. All that bad blood running through his system, but he produced terrific kids. And you’re part of the living proof.”

  “I wish I was,” said Niki, her stomach cramping with guilt.

  Katrina touched her hand. “You’re looking like Reed again.”

  Niki struggled to smooth out her features, but the compassion in Katrina’s eyes was more than she could bear. She had to tell her. She opened her mouth to speak.

  “I’m going to make it better,” Katrina vowed, carrying on before Niki had a chance to explain. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I was planning to go through the attic soon, to pick out some of Reed’s things for the new house. You can help me. Who knows what we’ll find out about your heritage up there.”

  Niki closed her mouth. It was tempting, so incredibly tempting to learn more about her biological family. But to do that, she’d have to postpone her confession. And that meant Gabriella won again—always a dangerous thing.

  Niki gave her better principles one final effort. “I don’t want to invade Reed and Caleb’s privacy. If they’d rather I didn’t—”

  “That’s not going to be a problem.” Katrina waved a dismissive hand.

  “They don’t seem to want me to know,” Niki added.

  “They don’t want to talk about it,” said Katrina. “That doesn’t mean they don’t want you to know. Trust me on this.”

  “Trust you on what?” came Reed’s voice as he opened the sliding door.

  “Girl talk,” Katrina responded easily. “Niki’s going to help me in the attic.”

  “Yeah?” asked Reed. “You got an extra glass with that bottle of wine?”

  “Absolutely,” said Katrina with a broad, rather satisfied smile, gesturing to one of the tables. Then she gave a conspiratorial wink in Niki’s direction.

  Reed hadn’t said no, Niki told herself. He’d barely reacted at all. Basically, he’d given her permission to snoop in his attic.

  She took another sip of her wine, knowing she couldn’t bring herself to turn down the opportunity. The truth would have to wait a couple more days. What could it hurt?

  Three

  Sawyer’s Uncle Charles was chomping at the bit. A four-term senator, he’d had people snapping to attention for so many years, he’d long since lost any ability to summon patience.

  In the ranch yard, Sawyer’s tone was laced with disgust as he said as much to Dylan. “He doesn’t see why I can’t march across the highway, slam Niki up against a wall and demand she hand over the diary.”

  The mere thought of anyone putting a hand on Niki or any woman in anger, infuriated Sawyer.

  “Subtlety was never his strong suit,” Dylan responded, tightening the cinch on a bay gelding. The two men were outside the main barn, where Dylan was gearing up for a ride to survey the upper pastures. “But I do agree with the part where you march across the highway. You’re not going to learn anything hangin’ around here with me.”

  “I was over there just yesterday. I’m trying to play it cool.”

  “There are a million excuses you can use to go back.”

  “Like what? Borrow a cup of sugar?”

  Dylan grinned. “Sometimes, I don’t get why people pay you to investigate for them.”

  He freed the reins from the saddle horn. “Tell the Terrells you have a horse with a hot hock. Borrow some antibiotics until you can get into the vet’s office. Or ask for the name of their vet. Or, hey, if you want to actually be useful, then find out where they hire their hands. Maybe they know of somebody who could be an assistant manager, help me out here.” He mounted his horse.

  Sawyer had to admit, those were all good suggestions.

  “Or,” Dylan finished, reining the gelding in a circle. “Pretend you like the woman. A lovesick calf would be expected to turn up all the time, on the flimsiest of excuses.”

  “I’m not going to do that,” said Sawyer.

  Niki might be a conniving little liar, but that didn’t give Sawyer the right to behave like a jerk.

  Dylan shrugged. “Good luck, then.” He pressed his heels against the animal’s flanks.

  “Thanks.” Sawyer stepped back, out of the path of the horse’s dust.

  Admitting he’d much rather spend his time trying to learn more about Niki than explaining himself to Uncle Charles or anyone else in D.C., Sawyer took part of Dylan’s advice. He fired up a pickup truck and bumped his way down the ranch road, across the highway and up the winding stretch of the Terrells’ driveway.

  He debated whether to take the turnoff to the main house or carry on to Reed’s new house, since it seemed likely Niki might be working there again.

  Niki Gerard as a construction worker. Sawyer had to admit, he’d have bet money against that e
ver happening. She was obviously taking her charade very seriously, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was learning anything about life in the process. Well, besides how to work a power drill.

  He checked with a hand in the ranch yard and was told the family was at the river.

  Hoping Niki was included in the family group, he strode his way down a tree-lined trail behind the main house, hearing the sounds of talking and laughter before he saw anyone. He emerged from the woods to a picturesque meadow and a wide, relatively calm bay jutting out from the river. There was a gazebo in front of the sandy beach, which was strewn with lawn chairs and towels.

  Caleb and Mandy, Reed and Katrina, and a number of people he didn’t recognize were swimming and sunning themselves. Caleb was holding his baby son, but Sawyer’s gaze immediately caught on Niki who was walking from the river’s edge across the sandy beach.

  Her dark hair was slicked back. Her skin glistened wet in the sunshine. Her blue bikini showed off toned, tanned legs, a flat stomach and smooth shoulders. The wet fabric clung to her pert breasts and to the curve of her hips. His feet slowed to a halt, and he simply couldn’t drag his gaze away from the sexy picture.

  She bent over a chair, scooping up a diaphanous scrap of nothing, wrapping it around her body. He knew it was supposed to cover her up, but the breeze pushed the sheer fabric against her body, and it just made her look sexier.

  Her gaze caught his, and she seemed to startle.

  He forced himself to resume walking. “Hello,” he called to Caleb who was closest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in.”

  “No problem,” Caleb responded, shifting Asher in his arms. “Getting settled?”

  Sawyer was aware of Niki moving in his peripheral vision, but he forced himself to keep his attention fixed on Caleb. “Slowly but surely,” he responded. “My ranch manager arrived last night. This is a gorgeous spot you have here.”

  “One of our favorites. Mandy and I have to go back to Chicago in the morning, and she didn’t want to waste the day.”

  “I don’t blame her.” Sawyer meant it.

  “Join us for a dip,” Caleb invited.

  Sawyer glanced down at his blue jeans and boots. “I’m not really…” Then he decided, to hell with it. He wasn’t shy about his black boxers. And this was exactly the kind of excuse he needed to hang around. “Sure,” he amended. “Why not?”

  Caleb grinned. “That’s the spirit. We’re about to start a game of water polo. There’s a stack of towels in the gazebo.”

  By the time Sawyer had stripped off his outer clothes and made his way to the bay, there were at least a dozen people positioning themselves in the water for the game. It turned out to be a modified version of regular water polo, with a volley ball and two floating nets. His navy background gave him an edge, but Caleb, who was on Sawyer’s team, and Reed, on the opposite team, were both strong players. Reed, in particular, could effortlessly lob the ball from one end of the makeshift court to the other.

  Niki was on the opposite team, and she turned out to be a surprisingly strong swimmer. So, when she and Sawyer both went after a long pass, he had to kick it up a notch to stay ahead. He beat her by a couple of feet, just before the ball would have been grabbed by the current out in the main channel of the river. He snagged it and quickly tossed it back to his teammate Mandy, who put it into play to the cheers and shouts of both teams.

  He’d just launched himself to swim back, when Niki gasped.

  He twisted his head to look back.

  “Oh, no,” she cried as the current grabbed her.

  She stroked hard against it, legs kicking beneath the surface. Her eyes went wide as the current won and began to tow her away.

  Sawyer lunged for her, swimming fast and hard, until he could grab her by the arm.

  “My leg’s cramping,” she gasped. The water was much colder now that they were out of the bay.

  Sawyer wrapped an arm around her waist, flipping her into a rescue position. “Relax,” he instructed. “I’ve got you. I’m going to take us into shore.”

  To her credit, she didn’t panic.

  He glanced at the crowd in the water polo game. Reed had seen her flounder, and was beginning to make his way over to help.

  “It’s good,” Sawyer shouted to him. “I’ve got her.” He gave Reed a thumbs up, just as the current dragged the two of them around a bend. The water-polo game disappeared from sight.

  Going with the current, he managed to angle himself and Niki toward the bay. “You okay?” he asked her.

  She was gritting her teeth. “My left calf is seized up.”

  “That’s the cold water. Just give me a minute here.”

  He glanced around to gauge their situation. The white water told him where there were rocks beneath the surface, but he could see a safe route he could use to get them to shore.

  “Sure,” she hissed between her clenched teeth. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you for not making this any harder.”

  “Thank you for rescuing me.”

  “My pleasure.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure it was exactly what you had in mind for your day today.”

  They were getting close to shore now, in a place where the current was weaker. “I trained for this in the navy,” he told her. “It’s probably good to keep my skills sharp.”

  As he spoke, he became aware of how her body was cradled against his, the slick, smooth skin of her midriff, her rear end rubbing against his body, and her pert breasts bobbing above the water. It had sure never been like this in the navy.

  His feet touched the rocky bottom, but he kept her in his arms, turning her sideways to more easily hold her.

  “It’s warmer here,” she noted, voice still strained.

  “Shallower, and less current flowing through. The sun warms the water. How’s your leg?”

  “Pretty sore.”

  He ran his fingertips along the back of her left calf, easily finding the bunched muscle. “Here?”

  “Ouch. Yes.”

  He rubbed the area experimentally with the pad of his thumb, zeroing in on the knot. She moaned, arms tightening around his neck.

  “Helping?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she hissed, pressing her face into his wet shoulder.

  He massaged slightly harder, and she clung tighter.

  “Stretch your toes up,” he instructed. “Arch your foot.”

  She did as he asked, and he kept up the circular motion. He could feel her muscle begin to soften under his fingers, and she relaxed against his chest.

  He knew he could stop anytime. He’d probably given her as much relief as he could for the moment. But he didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to hold her against his body a little longer, or maybe a lot longer, maybe forever.

  He stole a glance at her face.

  She was gazing up at him, those huge green eyes soft in the dappled sunlight. Her lips were dark and full, rosy cheeks damp with water droplets. She had the thickest lashes he’d ever seen. He couldn’t believe a woman could possibly be this beautiful. She was like a spell, holding him enthralled.

  The warm wind whispered against them, wafting the scents of pine and clover. The aspen leaves rustled above. The sound of the others’ voices blending away in the distance. Her skin grew warm against his own, and the noise of the water lapping around them seemed softer.

  He wanted to kiss her. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything so badly in his life. It was stupid and wrong and colossally risky. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

  He bent his head.

  She didn’t shy away. In fact, she stretched to meet him. Their cool lips touched, flaring instantly to heat. His lips parted. Hers followed in turn. She was sweet as fresh honey, soft as dew.

  His arms tightened around her, and he felt her body arch against him. He was instantly aroused, desperate to possess her. His tongue delved deep. Hers answered, and she
moaned against his mouth, her hands tangling in his wet hair.

  They were wearing practically nothing. It would be so quick, so easy, so intensely satisfying to strip off their suits and become one.

  But faraway shouts penetrated his hearing, and he ruthlessly reminded himself where he was, who she was and what was at stake.

  With a superhuman effort, he ended their kiss. Fixing his focus on the far shore, he dragged gulps of oxygen into his lungs.

  “I’m sorry.” He glanced down.

  Her sexy vulnerability was almost his undoing.

  “I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he told her sincerely.

  She was silent for a long moment. “It’s complicated,” she finally whispered.

  “It’s simple,” he returned, struggling to keep it light. “Fear and pain produce intense emotional reactions. Sometimes our bodies don’t know what to do with those emotions.”

  “You think that’s what just happened?”

  “I know that’s what just happened.” Not that it had ever happened to him before. Not like this, anyway. Her kiss had all but blown his mind.

  She quirked a little half smile. “So, you’re not really a good kisser.”

  “No better than average.” He found his gaze dropping to her mouth, and he recognized just how desperately he wanted to do it again.

  “That was average?”

  Steeling himself against temptation, it took him a second to answer. “Yeah. That was average.”

  Her eyes took on a mischievous sparkle. “Then you must have a pretty fabulous sex life, Sawyer Smith.”

  His gut clenched. “Do you always play with fire, Nellie Cooper?”

  “I never play with fire.” She paused. Her expression going thoughtful. “I’ve never met fire before.”

  Every muscle in Sawyer’s body was instantly taut. She was beyond good. When it came to seduction, this woman could write the book. Or maybe she’d read the book. Her mother’s book.

  He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being manipulated. But he also couldn’t figure out why. She didn’t know who he was, or she’d already have run for the hills.