Betting On The Maverick. Cindy Kirk

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СКАЧАТЬ fears bubbling to the surface. While she’d kept her composure, by the time he left and she reached the stable, her control was ready to snap.

      The ridiculous conversation about Vivian had actually helped. Thankfully Brad didn’t feel the need to fill the silence between them with inane chatter. Instead he’d showed her the parts of the fence, answered her questions regarding the price of hay and otherwise remained silent.

      “No need to hire a PI,” Brad said.

      “If you’re thinking just because Russ said he’s following up that’s enough—”

      “I’m thinking,” he said pointedly, “that it isn’t necessary because I’ve already hired one.”

      “You have?” If Margot had been a less experienced rider, she’d have fallen off her horse in shock. “Why?”

      “Crawford land has butted up to the Leap of Faith for generations. Boyd went to school with my grandmother. Besides, I kind of like the guy. I want to find out what happened to him, make sure he’s safe.”

      Tears stung the backs of Margot’s eyes. But a sliver of distrust remained. It would be so easy to say he’d hired a detective—so no one else would—and then have the illusive detective find nothing. But for what purpose?

      She wasn’t sure if it was the sun, the lingering effects of fatigue from the long drive yesterday or remnants from the skull fracture and concussion, but her head started to swim.

      “I’m going to take a break,” she announced, pulling her horse under a tall cottonwood near a creek. “You go on.”

      After dismounting, she moved to the tree and sat, resting her back against the massive trunk. Vivian, who’d been trotting along beside the horses, took a stance near her feet, her amber gaze firmly focused on Brad.

      She wasn’t surprised when he got off his horse and tied the animal to a smaller tree nearby.

      “That hard head of yours hurting?” he asked in an insolent tone.

      “What’s it to you?”

      “Just wondering if I’m going to have to strap you across the back of my horse to get you back to the house.”

      “In your dreams,” she shot back, relieved he’d responded with cocky arrogance rather than sympathy.

      “Viper looks thirsty.”

      Margot glanced at Vivian. Though the temperature was a mild sixty, the heeler visibly panted. With so much going on and despite the fullness around the dog’s midsection, it was easy to forget Vivi was pregnant.

      Though Margot hadn’t thought to bring any water with her, there was a creek nearby. She pushed to her feet, discovering that the short break had eased the headache into the manageable range.

      “I can—” Brad began.

      “She won’t go with you,” Margot said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And she won’t leave me.”

      “Then I guess we take a walk together.” He reached out to take her arm but after seeing her pointed look, dropped his hand. “You got some hang-up about a man touching you?”

      “I most certainly do not,” Margot retorted before realizing she’d played right into his hands. “I don’t know you. I don’t particularly like you. That’s why I don’t want you touching me.”

      His gaze met hers. “Liar.”

      “What are you talking about?” Margot sputtered.

      “You want me to touch you,” he said as if speaking the gospel from the pulpit. “But you’re scared of what might happen once I do.”

      “Oh, for the love of—” She reined in her emotions. “You are so incredibly arrogant. You think every woman is interested in that hot body of yours.”

      A grin spread across his face, like a kid opening a present at Christmastime. “You think my body is hot?”

      “Let’s get a few things straight. I’m not interested in touching you. I’m not interested in sleeping with you. I am interested in getting you out of my house.”

      “My house,” he corrected. “And you are interested in sleeping with me. You just won’t admit it.”

      “There’s nothing to admit.” She flung her hands up in the air, drawing Vivian’s watchful gaze as the dog lapped up crystal-clear water from the bubbling creek.

      “Come on,” Brad teased. “This attraction between us is so strong it’s a wonder we haven’t both burst into flames.”

      “Delude yourself all you want.” Margot kept her face expressionless. There was no way, no way, she was letting him know that she found him the teensiest bit attractive. “I have a compromise I’d like to propose.”

      “No touching below the waist?”

      “Shut up.” She fought to hide a smile. The guy never gave up. “I’m talking about the house.”

      She inhaled deeply, that crisp scent of autumn in the air. It wouldn’t be long before the temperature would drop and the cool breeze would turn frigid. The cattle would need to be fed. She’d have to fire up the tractor and attach the blade so she could plow the lane once the snow came. With four-wheel drive, at least her truck would get around.

      How had her dad managed these past few years, she wondered? Even before her mother passed, it wasn’t as if Giselle was the outdoorsy type. He had no sons to help, no family nearby and he’d told his only daughter to take a hike. Had there been a growing sense that the ranch was becoming too much for him to handle? Had he secretly considered the land a burden?

      Certainly she’d seen a few signs that she’d chosen to ignore. Because every time she confronted him he got belligerent.

      Her dad had always been proud of how he’d maintained the ranch. But, even before her mom died, Margot had noticed that some things were being neglected. Last year he hadn’t even gotten up the snow fence and the drifts had blocked the lane until he’d been able to get the tractor out and plow.

      Once her mom had passed, it was as if she’d taken any drive he’d possessed with her. Of course, most of that lethargy could be due to the alcohol.

      “We need to get back,” Brad said abruptly.

      “We haven’t finished our talk.”

      “If you’re not interested in making out, there’s nothing keeping us here.”

      “Is everything about sex with you?”

      He paused, considered. “Yeah, pretty much.”

      Not sure how to respond to such a comment, Margot said nothing, merely returned to her horse and mounted. “Forget a compromise. Once we get back to the house, I want you to pack up your stuff and go back to the Shooting Star. Once my dad returns, we can sort out what he owes.”

      “Good try.”

      “What’s СКАЧАТЬ