Round-the-Clock Temptation

by Michelle Celmer

  “Maybe it’ll be the answer we’re looking for,” Jake said.

  “I’m hoping it is. He wants us to meet at the club tomorrow afternoon. Can you make it, Connor?”

  “Nita mentioned driving into town for supplies. We can bring Jimmy, the stable manager, along to keep an eye on her. She should be safe with him while I come to the club.”

  They agreed on 3:00 p.m. and Connor walked them out to their cars. Jake hung back and, after Gavin had driven away, he asked, “So, what do you think of her?”

  “Who?”

  “You know who.”

  Yeah, Connor did, and he didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s a job.”

  “There’s chemistry there.”

  It wasn’t a question, and even if it had been, Connor couldn’t deny it. And he still didn’t want to talk about it.

  “I knew there would be. It’s part of the reason I recommended you for the job.”

  What was he, some kind of matchmaker now? “Well, you were wasting your time.”

  “You know, Connor, it wouldn’t kill you to relax and have some fun for a change. Do something for yourself.”

  “You would know a lot about that,” Connor said, regretting his harsh tone the second the words left his mouth. He wasn’t being fair. Jake had changed. And he’d proven that in his race for mayor.

  Jake being Jake, the insult slid right off his back. “Connor, you’d be amazed what finding the right woman can do to a man.”

  There was no right woman for Connor. And even if he found her, it simply couldn’t be. He had too much anger, too much rage. He could try to explain, but Jake would never understand. They might look alike, but inside they couldn’t be more different.

  The truth was, Connor wished he were more like his brother.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at three,” Connor said, opening Jakes car door.

  Taking Connor’s not so subtle hint, Jake grinned and got inside. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Connor watched him drive away, until his taillights were two red specks in the blackness of the night, then he went in the house to find Nita and tell her about tomorrow’s meeting. Will was in the family room watching a football game.

  “Where’s Nita?”

  Will barely glanced up at Connor, his attention rooted to the television. “She went out to the stable for something. Said you could meet her out there.”

  Connor closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. She’d done it again. She’d completely ignored what he’d assumed was a pretty direct order. And by doing so, had once again put herself in danger. She didn’t seem to understand how serious this situation had become.

  Anger shooting his blood pressure into the red zone, Connor stomped his way through the kitchen and mudroom out into the night. The sky was overcast and black as pitch. It was so dark the back porch light barely lit his way to the stable. From the bunkhouse he could hear laughter and music and warm light glowed behind the curtains.

  The main stable was dark.

  She’s in there, perfectly safe, he told himself. She’d only left the lights off to scare him. That’s what he had to believe, because the alternative wasn’t even worth considering.

  He pulled the door open and stepped inside, his eyes taking a second to adjust to the dim light, relief washing over him when he saw Nita. Relief that quickly dissolved into anger.

  She stood in front of Goliath’s stall, illuminated only by the lamp burning on the desk in the stable office. Soft light surrounded her, making her hair shimmer as she moved, making her skin look soft and translucent. She looked…beautiful. If he hadn’t been so damned mad, it would have taken his breath away.

  “So, this is how it’s going to be,” he said. “You slipping away from me whenever I’m not looking?”

  She ran a brush down the side of the horse’s neck. “I like to come out here at night. It’s peaceful. It helps me think.”

  “And it’s dangerous.”

  “I’m all right, aren’t I?”

  “Do you have any idea what’s at stake here? I’ve seen what people will do for money, the lengths they’ll go to. That gold is worth millions, and someone is after it. Right now you’re the only thing standing in their way.”

  “I refuse to be a victim. To be afraid in my own home.” She turned to face him and for a moment he was taken aback. She may have sounded confident and downright belligerent, but he could see genuine concern in her eyes. And fear. Their discovery tonight had obviously ruffled her more than she’d let on, and the anger he’d been feeling slipped.

  “You don’t have to be a victim, but you do have to be smart,” he said, suddenly feeling sorry for her. She was so tough, so burdened with responsibility, he wondered if she ever allowed herself to let it all go. To be vulnerable.

  Somehow he doubted it.

  “We can’t let word out that the gold is here,” she said. “We’ll have every kook in the county trying to find it. And what if it’s all a ruse? What if that map is some kind of red herring?”

  As he drew closer to her, his body came alive with awareness. He couldn’t be in the same room without getting caught up in her scent, without being mesmerized by the way her body moved. “I have a meeting tomorrow to discuss the feud. It seems there have been new developments. Maybe it will help us to figure out who’s responsible.”

  “I just want this to be over before our business is ruined,” she said, frustration keen in her voice. She turned to hang the brush back on its hook, but not before he could see the stark sadness on her face. His first instinct was to pull her into his arms and just hold her. To give her the freedom to let go.

  He stepped up behind her and laid his hands over her shoulders, realizing instantly that touching her had been a mistake. The contact shot through him like jolt of pure energy. But by then it was too late. The second he touched her, Nita turned and pressed herself against him. His arms naturally went around her, holding her close. He had never imagined that something as simple as holding a woman could feel so damned good. So…erotic. He was hyperaware of every inch of her supple figure, the body heat that seeped though her clothes.

  Instead of pulling away, he let his cheek rest against the softness of her hair. He wanted to tangle his fingers through it, tilt her head and kiss her. Take everything he’d never let himself take from a woman and give it all back in return.

  Nita’s hands flattened against his back and began to drift slowly downward. She pressed her face against his chest, her breath hot through his shirt. He could tell by her increased breathing, by the way her body went from rigid and tense to soft and pliable, she was just as aroused.

  Then he felt her breath on his neck, her lips on his throat. He had to stop this. He had to end it before they went too far, before they reached the point of no return. What had made him think he could touch her this way without wanting more?

  “Don’t do that,” he croaked, barely able to push the words out, to contain the desire building inside of him.

  “Why? I know you want me to.” Her hands cupped his backside, and she arched against him. “I can feel how much.”

  “I’ll hurt you, Nita. Even if I don’t want to.”

  Her teeth scraped his earlobe and he fisted his hands to keep from caressing her. “Have I ever once given you the impression that I can’t fend for myself?”

  Why couldn’t she listen? Why couldn’t she see the mistake she was making? “Not from me you can’t.”

  “You’re not nearly as tough as you think.”

  She ran her tongue along the seam of his ear and it was more than he could take. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her away.

  “I don’t know how else to say this to you, Nita. I’m not interested.”

  For a second she looked stunned, then her eyes darkened with anger. “You wouldn’t know what to do with a woman if she walked up and bit you.”

  “When you see one, you let me know.”

  Her jaw clenched tight and her eyes reduced to sl
its and he knew he’d hit a nerve. That was good, because when she was angry with him, she wasn’t thinking of ways to seduce him. All those wicked ideas she seemed to have would only get her in trouble. It would get them both in trouble.

  But she was so wrong. He knew exactly what he wanted to do with her.

  She spun on her heel and headed for the door, but not before he saw something else in her eyes. He saw hurt. He’d wounded her pride, and he didn’t figure that was an easy thing to do.

  He felt like slime for it, because he’d made her believe that he didn’t want her, that she wasn’t beautiful and sexy and everything any man could ever hope to find in a woman. Himself included.

  “Nita, wait.” She was all the way to the stable door before he caught up with her. He grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She flung herself around, her eyes two purple balls of fire in the dim light.

  “Get your hands off me.” She spit out a stream of curses even he’d never used then she shoved him. Hard. So hard he stumbled backward and almost landed on his rear end.

  Blood pulsed through his veins and throbbed at his temple. She had no idea what she was doing, what he was capable of. “Don’t do that again.”

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, taking a step toward him, her chin high. “You don’t like being pushed around by a girl.”

  “Stop it, Nita,” he warned through clenched teeth, but his threat only fueled her determination.

  “What are you going to do about it?” She stepped up to him, planted her hands on his chest and shoved again, harder this time, and his blood pressure reached an all-new high. She could see how angry he was, but instead of being afraid, instead of looking wary, she looked even more excited, more determined.

  “I’m warning you,” he said, “don’t do that again.”

  With her eyes locked on his, taunting him, she very deliberately planted her hands on his chest, ready to give him another good hard shove.

  All the anger, all the frustration he’d trapped deep below the surface broke free in a red-hot gush. Before he could stop himself, he caught her wrists in his hands and backed her hard against the door, pinning her arms over her head. He wanted to hurt her, and he wanted scare her and he just plain wanted her, as he’d never wanted a woman before.

  She gazed up at him through the pale light, but instead of looking frightened, instead of being angry with him, her lids were heavy with desire, her cheeks flushed.

  Before he even knew what he was doing, he lowered his head and crushed his mouth to hers—a hard, punishing kiss—pressing her to the door with the weight of his body. Her mouth was hot and sweet and demanding, her body soft and needy.

  He lost himself in the flavor of her mouth, the thrust of her tongue against his own. His hands slipped from her wrists and found their way to the curve of her hips, down the swell of her backside, and Nita moaned into his mouth. Her arms wound around his neck and she hooked one leg over his hip, grinding her body against him.

  That’s when he started to melt, when the last of his control began to slip. He began to feel—as he’d never felt before. Arousal and lust and longing. It overwhelmed him.

  And scared the hell out of him.

  He pried her arms from around his neck and backed away, drawing a hand across his damp mouth, fighting to catch his breath. “Now you see what you’ve done?”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She looked like pure sex standing there, her chest heaving, her cheeks the same vivid red as the stripes on her shirt. It was almost more than he could take.

  “I’m not doing this with you, Nita. No matter how much we both want it.”

  She studied him for a long moment and something in her eyes told him she knew it was a lost cause.

  “That’s a fine attitude, now that you’ve gotten me all hot and bothered,” she said, her voice low and husky.

  “I sincerely apologize.”

  “No need to apologize.” She flattened a hand over her chest where her collar opened, then slipped it inside, caressing the top of her breast, her eyes pinned on his. “Guess I’ll just have to go upstairs and take care of business myself.”

  She gave her breast a squeeze and he nearly fell over. It would take the willpower of ten men not to pull her back into his arms, yet somehow he managed all by himself. But she wasn’t finished with him. As she opened the door to leave, she dealt the blow that nearly brought him to his knees.

  “Later, when you’re lying in bed and you hear me cry out from the next room, know that it’s you I was thinking about.”

  Eight

  Connor sat in a leather arm chair in the cigar lounge of the Cattleman’s Club, head resting on his fisted hand, struggling to stay awake. Figuring Nita would make good on her threat last night in the stable, Connor had slept sitting up on the bench in the foyer. Far enough away that he couldn’t hear her cry out, as she’d put it, but where he could catch her if she tried to sneak down the stairs and give him the slip again—which she had, at 5:45 that morning. And though he’d slept in far worse conditions in the Rangers, sheer sexual frustration had kept him awake most of the night. That and his own self-doubt.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about what his brother had said, about what the right woman could do to a man, and how Connor needed to do something for himself. It was true that, since he’d been away from the engineering firm, since he’d started working the farm with Nita, he’d lost that feeling of restlessness, the bone-deep frustration he always seemed to feel whenever he let himself take a step back and look good and hard at his life. That frustration had always been the catalyst, the trigger for the irrepressible rage.

  Not that he hadn’t felt frustration lately, but this was an entirely different variety. It was born from the need to keep Nita safe, from her constant refusal to listen to him. From the affection and attraction that he knew was wrong, and felt despite that.

  Every so often he’d felt a flicker of something else, too. An emotion he hadn’t experienced in so long he’d barely recognized it.

  He’d felt content.

  Not that he expected it to last. It never did.

  Jake dropped into the chair next to his. “You look like hell.”

  Connor shot him an annoyed look. “Thanks.”

  “Being a newlywed, I have a valid reason for being up half the night. What’s your excuse? Don’t tell me you turned her down.”

  The look went from annoyed to deadly.

  Jake laughed. “I don’t understand why you’re fighting it. You two are meant for each other.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “Because I know Nita and I know you. She needs someone who won’t be threatened by her strength, someone who won’t try to change her, and you need someone who can show you how to have fun. I would say that makes you a perfect match.”

  If what his brother was saying made a weird sort of sense, Connor wrote it off as the direct result of sleep deprivation. He knew he was loopy when the next question popped from his mouth. “What did you mean about what finding the right woman can do to a man?”

  “Something just…clicks. You start to look at things differently, to see yourself differently. Your priorities change.”

  “But you must have dated a hundred different women. How did you know Chris was the one?”

  “It was the freckles,” Jake said with that goofy grin of his. “I’m a sucker for that woman’s freckles.”

  “Freckles?” Leave it to Jake to give him such a ridiculous answer.

  “In time, you’ll know exactly what I mean.” He slugged Connor in the arm, then got up to talk to Gavin, leaving Connor even more confused than he’d been before.

  “Since we’re all here we should get started,” Tom said. Connor looked to the doorway and saw that Mark, just back from his honeymoon, had arrived. “I talked to my uncle Lucas yesterday. It took some persuading, but I finally got him to admit what he’d planned to tell Will Windcroft.

  “It seems that after h
is grandfather, Jonathan, was killed, and my uncle was going through his things, he noticed some odd notations in his personal bookkeeping and large payments Jonathan had been receiving from an unknown source.”

  “What are we talking about?” Gavin asked. “Extortion?”

  “Lucas said his grandfather was a greedy bastard and was definitely capable of blackmail.”

  “So, if we find out who he was blackmailing, we’ll most likely find his killer.”

  “He also found letters to Jonathan. They were vague, but one mentioned a payment and a diary and how there could be trouble if the Windcrofts ever found out. Another talked of keeping the feud going.”

  “Were the letters from someone in the Devlin family?” Logan wanted to know.

  “I asked. Lucas said they weren’t signed, and there was no return address on the envelopes, but he was under the impression they were from someone outside the family.”

  Gavin sipped his drink. “Meaning someone outside the Devlin family could have a stake in the feud, and has a reason for keeping it going. Do we have any idea who that could be? Or where this diary is?”

  “No,” Tom said. “But if we find it, I get the feeling we’ll have all the answers we’re looking for.”

  “And Lucas never told any of this to Will?” Connor asked.

  “Lucas wanted to come clean with Will, but when Will refused to talk to him he felt stung. I believe he honestly wants to bring an end to the feud.”

  “I could talk to Will,” Connor offered.

  Tom shook his head. “I think it would be better coming from me. From a Devlin. But before I do, I’d like to dig a bit more and see what I can find. Some undisputed proof would make convincing him a lot easier.”

  Gavin stood and set down his glass. “While you’re doing that, the rest of us will ask around about this diary and keep looking for the people causing the Windcrofts trouble. Have there been any more problems at the farm, Connor?”

  “We found more holes yesterday morning. Nita has a man watching the property at night. I’ve instructed the hands to call me on my cell if they see anything suspicious. Until we know who we’re dealing with, I don’t want them trying to apprehend anyone.”