Автор: Brenda Jackson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9781474093064
isbn:
She’d be free to run her dig and make the finding of not only her career but of a lifetime. She wouldn’t think about the traitorous voice that said it might be nice to lose this bet and get the consolation prize...
“Fine.”
He lifted his brow. “Does that mean you accept the deal?”
“As long as you give me your word you won’t try to hinder me and my team in any way.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
Yeah. Right. There was no reason for her to trust he wouldn’t do just about anything to make sure the result worked out in his favor. Another typical male trait. No man liked losing. “Whatever you say.”
“You’re going to have to trust me.”
Layla rolled her eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t know you enough to trust you.”
“I can remedy that.”
“Don’t do me any favors.” Layla eased out of her chair, feeling like she’d mentally run a marathon. “So will you give me your word as a SEAL that you won’t try anything underhanded?”
“You think my word as a SEAL means something?”
“Yes. SEALs are a special team of men who take the job of protecting our country very seriously, and they live by a code of honor and integrity.”
Gavin nodded. She was right. “And you know this how?”
“My father’s cousin used to be a SEAL. He retired a few years ago, but he told us all about them. At least what he could share. A lot of the stuff he did was classified.”
“The majority of our missions are,” Gavin said.
“So, will you give me your word?”
“Yes, you have my word.”
* * *
As far as Gavin was concerned, getting her into his bed before the dig began would not be interfering with the job she wanted to do.
“Good.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late. I’m sure you need more sleep. However, if you need help with the dishes, then I—”
“No, I don’t need help with the dishes. That’s what dishwashers are for.”
“Do you still want to see where we plan to dig?”
“Yes. I want to know what you have planned on my property and where.”
“No problem.”
“Then I’ll come by the cottage in the morning,” he said, standing, as well. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”
She shook her head as she put on her sweater. “That’s not necessary.”
“It is for me, Layla. I’ll walk you back.”
She didn’t deny him, maybe she didn’t want to appear ungrateful. She headed for the door and when she reached out to open it, he moved his hand forward, as well. She didn’t seem aware that he’d been standing so close behind her. His fingers closed over hers and his chest was flush against her back.
“I can open the door, Gavin,” she said, glancing over her shoulder, obviously flustered at his nearness. He loomed over her five-foot-three-inch height. He stood so close he could smell her with every breath.
“Your choice.” Releasing his hand from hers he eased back. She opened the door and inhaled the cool Missouri air.
“Nice night, isn’t it?” he asked her. He walked beside her now.
“Yes, it is a nice night.” She glanced over at him again. “Glad to be home?”
A smile touched his lips. “Yes. It’s always good to be home. Time to go from SEAL to rancher.”
“Is it that easy?”
“I’m used to it now. I have good men working for me who make the transition less difficult.”
She nodded. “You love being a SEAL?”
“Yes.”
“I understand your father and grandfather were SEALs.”
Gavin wondered what else his grandmother had told her about their family. “Yes, they were SEALs. So I guess you can say it’s in my blood. What about your folks? Are they college professors like you?”
“No. They’re both neurosurgeons. I didn’t follow in their footsteps. Medicine didn’t interest me.”
He hadn’t asked her to explain, but the fact that she did led him to believe her choice of a career was a sore spot with someone. “You are your own person, Layla.” She was definitely her own woman, he thought further to himself. “Just because following in my father’s and grandfather’s footsteps worked for me, doesn’t mean following family tradition works for everybody.”
She didn’t say anything for a minute. “My parents wanted me to be a mini-them and go to medical school. But I couldn’t. I’m not a healer. I’m a historian.”
“Then you did the right thing by following your heart. When did you decide on archaeology?” Gavin wondered if she noted how in sync their steps were.
“In my junior year of high school.” She paused as if she was remembering. “My history teacher had gone on an excavation in Egypt the summer before and told us about it. I found it fascinating how her team was able to dig up artifacts, how they found history buried beneath the earth’s surface. It made me realize that’s what I wanted to do.”
“Why Jesse James?”
He heard her chuckle and the sound stimulated him in a way he wished it didn’t. “Why not Jesse James?” He heard the amusement in her tone. “I used to watch Westerns with my grandfather whenever I visited him in New Orleans. He was a fan of the outlaw Jesse James. He read a lot of books about him. Watched movies and documentaries. I shared his love and interest. That’s how my research began. And it’s only grown over the years.”
He heard the passion for her subject in her voice. It was there whenever she spoke about her work. She believed in it. If there had been any doubt in his mind before, there wasn’t now. She would risk sleeping with him to prove her work.
She’d be disappointed not to find what she was searching for. But Gavin looked forward to helping her get over the disappointment. He didn’t believe for one minute that James’s loot was buried on this land. It wasn’t. He recalled years ago when he’d been in high school, his father had given some outfit permission to check СКАЧАТЬ