by Rita Herron
Dammit. He was making a mess of this.
“I apologize if I seemed rude, Miss Warner. I…you obviously know some of the things the media said about me before.”
“And they weren’t true?”
“Some of them were,” he conceded. “I let fame go to my head for a while. I was cocky and a show-off in the arena.” He paused, injecting sincerity into his tone. “But I’d never hurt a woman or a child. Ever. And this ranch—what we’re doing—it’s important. It means something personal to all of us who’ve invested in it.”
She switched on a mini tape recorder and pushed it toward him. “Then give me a quote.”
He gave a clipped nod. “Everyone deserves a second chance,” Johnny said. “Kids and adults alike. That’s what we’re here for.”
She smiled her thanks, then Johnny turned and hurried out the door. The night air smelled sweet with wildflowers, the moon breaking through the clouds, a few stars glittering against the inky sky.
His boots crunched gravel on the path, and he veered by the barn as he walked toward Rachel’s cabin. A blue SUV was parked to the side.
Then he heard a scream from inside the barn.
Rachel…
He bolted into a dead run, pushed open the barn door to the sound of horses neighing and whinnying. A figure in the back corner moved, and something banged against a wood rail.
“Let me go,” Rachel said in a shrill tone.
“Do what I say, baby, and we can work out a deal.”
A scuffling sound followed, then a man’s grunt of pain.
“You bitch!”
Johnny’s blood ran cold as he strode to the back corner. The damn man had Rachel penned against the wall.
She shoved at his chest. “I said, let me go.”
Fury surged through Johnny, and he yanked the man away from her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The man whirled around, his scraggly hair sweaty, his eyes gleaming with anger. The bastard’s name was Burgess. Johnny recognized him from the employee file photographs.
“She asked for it,” Burgess snarled.
Rachel’s startled eyes met his, and his gut clenched.
“What I heard was her asking you to leave her alone,” Johnny said through gritted teeth. “Now you’re going to jail.” Johnny glanced at Rachel to make sure she was all right. She looked upset but thankfully unharmed.
A vein bulged in Burgess’s thick neck, then he shot Rachel a challenging look. “Go ahead, call the law.”
Rachel’s eyes widened with panic. “No, Johnny, just let him go.”
“Rachel, he attacked you,” Johnny said. “You should file charges.”
She folded her arms around her waist. “No, please, just make him go.”
A smarmy smile slid across Burgess’s face as if he’d won a victory, irritating Johnny even more. Johnny snatched the man by the shirt and hauled him toward the front, then shoved him through the door. “Is that your SUV?”
Burgess shot him a defiant gaze, then nodded.
“Get in it and get the hell off this ranch.” Johnny tightened his hold on the man’s collar, nearly choking him. “And if I ever see you anywhere near here or near Ms. Simmons again, you won’t have to worry about the law. I’ll take care of you myself.”
“You have no idea who you’re messing with.” Burgess’s face reddened as he glared at Johnny.
Johnny didn’t take threats well. “And neither do you.” Furious, he opened the door and tossed him inside.
Burgess cursed as he jammed the key into the ignition, but he started the SUV and roared off leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.
Johnny waited until he’d disappeared, then turned back to Rachel. She was standing at the barn door, her face ashen, her expression reminding him of a scared animal ready to bolt.
He needed answers. He wanted to know the truth about her name and the reason for the bruises she’d had when she’d arrived. And he wanted to know why the hell she’d refused to call the law.
But she was trembling so badly that he couldn’t force himself to confront her just yet. Or maybe he dreaded the truth.
So he strode toward her, then pulled her into his arms and held her tight.
RACHEL WANTED TO RUN. She needed to run.
To escape.
Because she desperately feared the man who’d cornered her in the barn knew her real identity.
And that he was working for Rex.
But she was shaking too badly to move, so when Johnny closed his arms around her, she collapsed against him and, for a brief moment, allowed herself to believe she was safe. That he would protect her and her son.
That the peaceful life she’d enjoyed the past few days could last forever.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Johnny murmured against her hair. “He’s gone. He can’t hurt you now.”
A strangled sob lodged in Rachel’s throat, but she swallowed hard, refusing to let it out. If she started crying, she might never stop.
Instead, she clung to Johnny, letting him stroke her back and hair and soaking in his strength.
As her nerves calmed, she became hyperaware of the man holding her. Of the musky, masculine odor radiating from him, a sultry smell that reminded her of what it could be like between a man and a woman when sex wasn’t about control but about touching, comforting and giving pleasure.
But the memory of that creep grabbing her replayed through her mind, and she tensed, shutting down.
Then his threat. You can’t run forever. Be good to me and I won’t tell anyone who you are.
He had to be working for Rex.
On the heels of his voice, Rex’s threat taunted her—I’ll kill you next time.
“Talk to me, Rachel,” Johnny murmured. “I know you’re afraid of something, or someone. Let me help you.”
No one could help her. The one private investigator who’d tried to had ended up nearly dead at Rex’s hands.
Suddenly claustrophobic in Johnny’s embrace, she pushed against his chest. “I’m sorry…I need to go.”
He eased away, but caught her arms, forcing her to look at him. “Trust me, Rachel. I’ll protect you and Kenny if you’ll just tell me what’s going on.”
The sincerity in his voice wrenched her heart. She ached to trust him, to fall back into his arms and let him make everything all right.
But how could Johnny fight her ex? Rex’s connections ran as deep as his rage. For God’s sake, his father had been a judge himself and had managed to pay off anyone who tried to tangle with his son. If Rex thought Johnny was involved with her, he’d kill him to get to her.
“That man just shook me up,” she said, then glanced pointedly at his fingers where they held her. “Now, let me go, Johnny. I’ve been manhandled enough for one night.”
Pain and regret flashed in his eyes and he instantly released her. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I…would never hurt you.”
Her stomach knotted. He didn’t deserve her harsh words, but she had to protect herself. She could not rely on him or confide the truth.
“A lot of men say that,” she whispered in a raw voice.
Johnny’s gaze met hers, understanding flickering in the depths. “Who was he, Rachel? Who hurt you? Your father? A boyfriend? Husband? Lover?”
She averted her gaze. She couldn’t stand to see the pity in his eyes. She felt broken, damaged.
As if she’d never be able to love a man again, to give herself to him.
Which was fine. She had Kenny. Her son was her life.
“My personal life is not your concern,” she said.
A muscle ticked in Johnny’s jaw. “If it endangers the children and staff on this ranch, it is.”
Guilt slammed into her. He was right. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I don’t appreciate you coming to my rescue. You won’t have to do it again.”
Her heart hammering in her chest, she brushed by him and hurried toward her cabin. Moonlight streaked the path, shimmering off pebbles, grass a
nd twigs. The air smelled sweet with honeysuckle as a breeze stirred the trees. Stars glittered above, a perfect night for Kenny’s campout.
She hated that it would be the only one he’d get to enjoy.
Behind her, Johnny’s footsteps crunched the dirt, and she quickened her pace, then climbed the steps to the porch of the cabin. Johnny came up behind her as she unlocked the cabin door.
“What did you mean, I won’t need to do that again?” Johnny asked.
Rachel walked inside, flipped on the lamp, then headed toward her bedroom. “It means I’m sorry there was trouble. Now please go, Johnny.” She needed to pack.
But Johnny stood his ground. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain what’s going on.”
Rachel closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for strength, then spun around. “Look, I understand your concern about the boys here, and believe me, the last thing I would want is to endanger a child.” Or you.
Because she was starting to really like Johnny Long.
He wasn’t the cocky, arrogant bastard the papers had pegged him to be. He was caring and protective and a good role model for these troubled kids.
Especially her son, who certainly hadn’t had a father figure in Rex.
Johnny’s eyes bore into hers. “I believe that, but I also know you’re in trouble. What are you running from, Rachel?”
“Nothing,” she said with an edge to her voice. “But if you feel I’m a threat, Kenny and I will leave in the morning.”
She reached in the closet for her suitcase, deciding to pack the few things she’d removed so they could get an early start. Breaking the news to Kenny, picking a new name and a new destination would be difficult, but she’d make him understand.
Johnny caught the bag in his hand. “I don’t want you to leave.”
Their fingers brushed, stirring long-dormant desires to flutter in her chest.
“Why, Johnny? You won’t have trouble finding another cook.”
The air vibrated with tension as his gaze locked with hers. She wanted to believe that he cared. But how could he when they barely knew each other?
“Just think about Kenny,” he finally murmured. “He’s so excited about learning to ride, you can’t tear him away before the rodeo.”
Pain and guilt squeezed her chest again as she searched for a reply.
Then he brushed his knuckle across her cheek. “Stay.”
His husky tone washed over her, triggering crazy thoughts of want and love and the desire to fall into his arms again.
He inched closer to her, so close that she saw the raw need in his expression, the hunger building in his eyes.
Her body trembled with a heat of its own, and she ordered herself to pull away. To tell him to leave.
But when he cupped her face between his hands and lowered his mouth to hers, she closed her eyes and silently pleaded for his kiss.
KENNY SETTLED NEXT TO Willie around the campfire, excited about the campout. But one of the campers was telling a ghost story about a little kid being lost in the woods, and a monster chasing him, and he couldn’t help but peer around through the trees.
Yesterday he thought he’d seen a big man watching him at camp. And the day before, he’d heard footsteps behind him. Another time he’d spotted a man on a horse trailing behind when he was riding with the other boys.
Eyes seemed to glow out of the darkness, and he shivered, pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.
“And the monster grabbed the little boy and dragged him into the cave—” the boy continued.
Kenny’s stomach knotted into a ball, and he huddled closer to Willie. He was safe here with the other boys. He wouldn’t go off alone just in case.
But what about his mama?
Tears burned his eyes. He wanted to stay here and camp with the boys. But maybe he should go back to the cabin.
She was all alone tonight. What if his daddy found her and came back and hurt her?
Chapter Nine
The yearning inside Rachel mounted as Johnny’s lips claimed hers. His touch was gentle yet firm, and he traced his tongue along her lips as he pulled her into his arms. Craving more, she parted her lips, inviting him to explore deeper, savoring the taste of his masculine strength and desire.
Her soft sound of pleasure triggered his own gruff one, and he increased the pressure of his mouth against hers and stroked her back, pressing her body into his. The hard planes of his chest brushed her breasts, his thick sex bulged in his jeans and hardened against her thigh.
She threaded her fingers in his dark hair and was rewarded when he trailed his lips down her throat, leaving hungry kisses and nibbles as he tasted the sensitive skin of her neck. One hand snaked down to rub her hip, slowly, languidly, as if he had all the time in the world, as if giving her pleasure drove his own desires.
She clung to him, aching for more, to have his skin against her own, to have his hands love all the secret places that longed for a man’s touch.
Then his mouth paved a fiery path down her throat to her breasts, and her body burst to life as if he’d lit a fire inside. Tingling with sensations, she threw her head back in offering and allowed him to unbutton the top buttons of her blouse. Again, he moved slowly, tasting her skin inch by inch, his coarse, passionate whisper spiking her own.
Then one hand closed over her breast, massaging, stroking through the sheer lace of her bra. Even as her nipple stiffened, throbbing for his mouth, reminders of Rex’s rough handling broke through the haze of arousal. She fought to stifle them, but the moment Johnny backed her against the wall, panic shot through her.
She hated to be penned in. Held down. To be at the mercy of a man.
“Please…stop…”
Her raspy breathing turned to a painful gasp for air, and she pushed against his chest.
He leaned back, his eyes dark and feral, pupils dilated with hunger. But concern registered in his expression, followed by questions that she didn’t want him to ask.
Questions that triggered her shame.
A heartbeat of silence stretched between them, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he lifted his thumb and brushed her cheek with the pad, slowly, sensually, so heartachingly tender that tears blurred her eyes.
“I’m sorry you’ve been hurt,” he said gruffly, then took a step away. “But I promise, I will never hurt you, Rachel.”
The sincerity in his husky vow made her want to drag him back in her arms, made her wish she had the courage to confess everything.
Made her want to trust him with her story. With her body. With her heart.
But Rex had hurt her too badly to do any of those things.
“Please,” Johnny whispered, “tell me what you need.”
What she needed was for him to hold her again, to make love to her and erase the memory of Rex’s vile hands.
But she had to keep him at bay and guard her secrets.
Squaring her shoulders, she wrapped a firm band around her heart. “I’m fine, Johnny. I’m just tired.”
Disappointment flared in his eyes, but he didn’t push. Instead, he gave a clipped nod and walked toward the door. But just as he reached it, he turned back and looked at her one more time.
“Promise me you’ll be here in the morning,” he said softly.
Rachel’s heart fluttered. She wanted to stay forever.
“For Kenny’s sake,” he finished.
She wet her lips with her tongue and tasted Johnny on her lips. The potent mixture of his tenderness and masculinity was enough to bring her to her knees. But the reminder of Kenny brought reality slamming into her hard.
Her main priority was to protect her son.
“For Kenny’s sake,” she murmured with a small nod of concession.
But if she discovered Rex was on the ranch, she’d forget that promise. For Kenny’s sake, she’d run again.
And somehow she’d make herself forget Johnny.
JOHNNY’S BODY WAS WOUND tight as he left Rachel.
Dammit, this woman had him tied in knots. He wanted her with a vengeance. Her strength and that sweet vulnerability aroused both his lust and protective instincts, a lethal combination that he’d never experienced before.
He fisted his hands and strode back to his truck, then headed back to the main house. But he wouldn’t be able to sleep, not with images of that animal pawing at her in the barn earlier.
Or the memory of her mouth seeking his, her hands drawing him nearer, her taste on his lips and her touch on his skin.
He needed to take a ride to clear his head.
He parked at the main barn, saddled up Soldier, then climbed in the saddle and galloped across the ranch. Ever since he was a boy, he’d felt at home in the saddle. One with the animal.
It was no different now. He guided the horse across the terrain, bypassing the stables and arena, then checked to make sure the animals they’d brought in for the rodeo had been delivered.
Satisfied to find things in order, he rode out to the north pasture again. He scanned the area to make sure the man who’d attacked Rachel hadn’t decided to hide out somewhere on the ranch, then rode along the creek to the river.
He also looked for other signs of trouble in case Copeland had hired someone to sabotage them.
The rodeo was only a few days away, and Rachel had promised to stay until it was over. But what would happen then?
Dammit. He spun the horse around and headed back to the stables. If she wasn’t going to confide the truth about her problems, he’d find out on his own.
He breathed in the fresh night air as he crossed the pasture, rode past the creek where the youth were camping out and slowed the horse, pausing to watch for a few minutes but staying hidden in the shadows. When he was a kid, he’d loved the outdoors, skipping rocks in the river, digging fence posts, diving into a haystack, but most of all, riding. God, he loved being in the saddle, the powerful feel of the beast beneath him.
It was the only time he felt in control.
He’d spent plenty of nights sleeping outdoors to avoid his father when he was on a tear. Camps hadn’t been in the budget. And his old man wouldn’t have sent him if it had been.