Millionaire in a Stetson. Barbara Dunlop

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      “Katrina.”

      “Do they have enough kids to fill up this big house?” Sawyer asked in an effort to keep Caleb engaged in conversation.

      “Not yet. Katrina’s a professional ballerina, so it may be a while before they start a family.”

      From his research, Sawyer knew all about Katrina. Ironically, he’d seen her perform a few times in New York City. His family had a box at the Emperor’s Theatre.

      Niki appeared in the distance, joining the gathering group. She spotted a man setting up a folding table and quickly stepped up to help. Together, they drew down the legs and settled it firmly on the uneven ground. She was small and slight, only about five foot three. Sawyer also knew she was twenty-one, and she was partway through an arts degree at GW.

      Niki had been drop-dead gorgeous in every picture he’d ever been shown, stunningly glamorous, one of D.C.’s own princesses. But there was no glamour about her today. Not that she could hide her pretty features. The wispy, brunette hairstyle made her look younger, delicate, a bit of a waif. The blue jeans clung softly to her sexy bottom, while the serviceable T-shirt molded to her breasts, making it anything but plain.

      “I can see the way you’re looking at my sister,” Caleb remarked, in a light, yet warning tone.

      “Sorry.” Sawyer quickly shook himself. His mind didn’t usually wander like that, particularly when he was investigating. He didn’t know what was wrong with him.

      But Caleb chuckled good-naturedly. “She’s a beautiful girl. Just remember she’s got two very protective big brothers in her life.” He left the thought unfinished.

      “Noted,” Sawyer responded succinctly.

      Caleb had absolutely nothing to worry about on that score. Niki might look sweet and innocent out here in the fresh air, but Sawyer knew what lurked beneath the facade. Niki was every bit as dangerous as her mother.

      Both cunning and beautiful, Gabriella Gerard had used her persuasive charm and innate sensuality to get what she wanted from men who should have known better. She certainly wasn’t a call girl, but her many lovers were strongly rumored to be amongst the D.C. elite. They had showered her with gifts, money, stock tips and, most significantly, secrets.

      It was rumored that Gabriella had written it all down, and very likely included her affair with Sawyer’s uncle and the illegal campaign contributions that had followed. Sawyer was here for the diary, nothing more and nothing less. Niki’s virtue was perfectly safe with him.

      “I guess I should have asked if you were married,” Caleb put in.

      Sawyer shook his head. “Not married. No girlfriend. Just me.”

      Caleb looked genuinely sympathetic. “Too bad.”

      Sawyer didn’t think so. He was perfectly content on his own. Besides, family history proved that marriage was never a good bet for a Layton. He didn’t think he’d inflict the state on any woman, let alone one that he cared about.

      “Come and meet my wife,” Caleb interrupted his thoughts.

      They started for the front yard, with Caleb pointing out a woman in a pair of faded blue jeans and a red, plaid shirt. Her long, chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she held a tiny infant in a blue blanket in her arms.

      “Your baby?” Sawyer asked, falling into step, still making conversation about things he already knew.

      “Better be,” Caleb joked.

      Sawyer couldn’t help but smile at that.

      “Mandy,” Caleb called as they neared, fondness clear in his tone.

      The woman glanced up. She smiled, green eyes shining with obvious love as the two men approached. “Hello, darling.”

      Caleb kissed her mouth, then he kissed the baby on the forehead.

      “This is my wife, Mandy. Sweetheart, this is Sawyer Smith. He just bought the Raklin place.”

      Mandy’s smile broadened. “Welcome to Lyndon Valley. This is Asher. Our new son.”

      “Congratulations,” said Sawyer, looking down at the sleeping child. “How old is he?”

      “Three months.”

      The baby’s eyes were closed. His skin was almost translucent, and his little, bow mouth made gentle suckling motions in his sleep. He looked delicate and vulnerable swaddled in the flannel blanket.

      It never ceased to amaze Sawyer that rational people would bring something so fragile into such an uncertain world. Didn’t they worry about what could happen? How did they sleep at night, thinking about the danger?

      Not that Lyndon Valley seemed dangerous. In fact, it was a million miles away from both political strife and inner city problems. And Caleb and Mandy were probably great parents, salt of the earth.

      It occurred to Sawyer that a normal man would feel guilty lying to such obviously decent people. Luckily, Sawyer’s emotions had been hardened over the years. But the thought led him to wondering if Niki was cold as ice, or if she was ashamed of her own deception.

      He glanced up, seeking her out again.

      She was looking directly at him, and when his gaze met hers, something arced through the atmosphere between them. It was an awareness that went beyond two strangers meeting. She quickly blinked and looked away, but not before it occurred to Sawyer that she might already have his number. Was it possible that she knew exactly who he was, and that she was playing him? Could she be that good an actress? He immediately realized he couldn’t take the chance.

      “He’s a beautiful baby,” he said to Caleb and Mandy. “Can you excuse me?”

      He left them, making his way toward Niki.

      She’d moved away from the crowd, going downhill toward the creek and a little white footbridge that crossed it.

      He continued after her.

      They had to have another conversation. And he needed to pay attention to more than just her beauty this time. If she even suspected he was a Layton, she’d bolt the second his back was turned.

      Niki braced her palms on the rail of the footbridge, gazing toward the crystal-blue water of Flash Lake. Tiny ripples were signaling the beginnings of an evening breeze that would keep the flies at bay.

      Flash Lake was surrounded by brilliant green willows and silvery aspens. Craggy mountains jutted up behind it, creating a picture-perfect setting against the vast sky. Closer in, horses grazed in the flower-dotted meadows, their black, brown and white coats, glossy in the rays from the setting sun.

      Since it was midsummer, colts and fillies frolicked through the foot-tall meadow, their high-pitched whinnies carrying up the slope. Wheatgrass and clover freshened the air, while the crystal creek gurgled six feet below her, hiding water bugs and speckled trout. Though it had only been three months, there were moments when she had to struggle to remember the sights, smells and sounds of Georgetown.

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