Cowboy Pi. Jean Barrett

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СКАЧАТЬ bit as unsettling, though she couldn’t argue that his nearness was also comforting.

      “Feeling better?” he asked, turning to her.

      There it was again, that Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, hypnotizing her with its slow action that shouldn’t have been in any way alluring but somehow was.

      “Much,” she lied. “Thank you for playing knight to the rescue and slaying the—well, I guess it would be serpent in this case and not dragon.” She tilted her head to one side, favoring him with a grateful smile. “And now would you please tell me just what the hell you think you’re doing?”

      “Care to clarify that?”

      “Turning up here like this. It’s not by chance that you happened to walk through that front door.”

      “Ah, that. It’s because of the watering hole I visited last night. Some interesting people hang out there, and sometimes they provide me with useful bits of information. Seems to be a favorite haunt of one of your competitors. It only took him a couple of drinks before he was bragging to anyone who would listen that you’d just lost a major sale, that he’d taken another important listing away from you and that your agency was on the ropes.”

      Van Nugent! Bad news traveled fast in the business, particularly when vipers like Nugent got hold of it. Apparently, he’d learned before she did that she wouldn’t get the River Walk property.

      “So you decided I’d be desperate enough by now to change my mind about my grandfather’s inheritance.”

      “It did occur to me to look you up again.”

      “And I suppose it was Gail again who told you where to find me.”

      “Nice lady, your office manager. Very helpful. Remind me to send her flowers.”

      “Did Gail also tell you to be sure to pack a gun when you came looking for me?”

      “Now, see, that was my idea. I kind of had this uncomfortable feeling by then that, if you did go and change your mind, maybe you weren’t as safe in San Antonio as you figured. Looks like I was right, huh?”

      “Are you suggesting the snake was—”

      “Deliberate? Why not? You think that thing just happened to crawl in here? I bet if you looked through the house you’d find a window or door somewhere that’s been forced open.” He turned his head, sweeping his gaze around the parlor. “So where are they?”

      “Who?”

      “The couple Gail told me you were scheduled to meet here.”

      His shifts in topics were so abrupt that Samantha had trouble following them, particularly when she was feeling limp again. And vulnerable. Decidedly vulnerable. She glanced at her watch. “I guess they’re late.”

      “You ever meet them?”

      “No, they arranged the appointment by phone through Gail.”

      “Wanna bet they never turn up? That they don’t even exist?”

      She stared at him. “But that would mean—”

      “Oh, yeah, a setup, because your office manager must have mentioned the house was unoccupied, and you go and walk into it with a diamondback rattler waiting for you in the parlor.”

      “If that’s true,” she said, feeling weaker by the moment, “then it’s also possible…” She couldn’t name it, didn’t want to believe that anything so fantastic could be a reality.

      Roark, however, had no hesitation about putting it into words. “That Joe Walker wasn’t imagining someone was after him. The same someone who wants to prevent you from qualifying for your grandfather’s estate.”

      “But I told the lawyer that I intend to sign away any claim to the estate.”

      “Either this guy hasn’t learned that yet, or he’s trying to make sure you don’t change your mind. Because, even though he must have realized it was unlikely the rattler would have killed you if it had managed to sting you, there was a good chance it would land you in the hospital or, if not that, scare you into not joining the cattle drive.”

      “Well, his threat was an effective one.” She was silent for a moment, absorbing his conjecture and not liking it one bit. “Oh, this is crazy. Who could possibly have a motive for wanting either my grandfather or me out of the way?”

      “Someone who benefits, of course. Did Ebbersole explain the contents of your grandfather’s will?”

      “In more detail than I wanted to know.”

      “So, who inherits if you default?”

      Samantha frowned, trying to remember all that the lawyer had shared with her. “There are some cash legacies to my grandfather’s employees at the ranch. None of the legacies are all that large. In any case, they’re guaranteed no matter who inherits.”

      “No motive there, then. What about the big stuff?”

      “It’s to be divided. The investments would go to St. James Monastery and the ranch itself and all its contents to the Western Museum in Purgatory. But you can’t think—”

      “That either a community of Catholic brothers or a nonprofit public museum would go to any lengths to inherit Joe Walker’s estate?” He shook his head. “Not likely.”

      “Then, if they’re above suspicion—and they must be—none of it makes sense.”

      Roark didn’t respond. She eyed him as he sat there, slowly flexing the fingers of his right hand as he pondered the problem. Was the action an unconscious habit that permitted him to deliberate, or some form of exercise?

      The hand captivated her. It was large and tanned from the sun, the fingers that repeatedly curled into a fist and opened again were long and with an obvious strength. Fingers that were capable of being both tough or stroking a woman’s sensitive flesh.

      The sudden image of such a seduction was so arousing that it alarmed Samantha. Catching her breath, she inched away from him on the window seat. She didn’t think he was aware of her hasty retreat until his hand went still. He turned his head and looked at her, a smile of amusement hovering on his wide mouth.

      It was a smile that, like everything else about him, unnerved her. She made an effort to remedy her unwanted state as she said quickly, “Shouldn’t I be calling the police?”

      “Why?”

      “If there was a break-in here, I ought to report it.”

      “Then that much is probably a good idea.”

      But not the rest. That’s what he was saying, that the police would be able to offer her no more answers than he could at the moment. Or, without either a suspect or evidence, their help, either. She knew he was right.

      “So, are you?” he wanted to know.

      Out of nowhere he had changed the subject again, because she realized he wasn’t talking about phoning the СКАЧАТЬ