The Millionaire and the Cowgirl. Lisa Jackson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ again. Ever.” Hot color caressed high, sculpted cheekbones and sweat dripped from the tip of her nose.

      “I guess you haven’t heard.”

      “Heard what?”

      He felt a grain of satisfaction to be the one to break the news. “Believe it or not, I’m the new owner of this place.”

      “You?” She stared straight into his eyes, as if checking for lies, as if she expected him to disregard the truth or stretch it to his own advantage. “You own the Fortune Ranch? Just you? No one else?” Was there a note of disapproval in her steady tone?

      “The whole spread.”

      “But—”

      “You didn’t know?”

      She actually paled, the dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose becoming more visible. “I—I knew that one of Kate’s children or grandchildren would probably end up with the…” Her eyes moved from his face to the vast acres of rolling pastureland, dry and brown in midsummer. Clumps of sagebrush were scattered along the fence line and a tumbleweed rolled lazily past the weathered barn. Sam swallowed hard as her gaze settled on him again. “I mean, someone was bound to inherit it, but I never once thought… Oh, for the love of Mike, why you?”

      “Beats me.”

      “You’re a city boy now, aren’t you?” Her chin rose a little bit, as if she were suddenly defiant. “You haven’t set foot here in years.”

      “About ten,” he agreed, and saw her gaze shift away, as if she, too, didn’t want to think about that last summer they’d shared. It seemed a lifetime ago, though his blood still raced a little at the sight of her. That would have to change.

      “So you’re here…why? To live?” she asked, wrinkling her brow as if she couldn’t believe it.

      “For the time being. There’s a catch to my inheritance.”

      “A catch?”

      “Kate left the ranch and everything on it—well, almost everything—with the condition that I can’t sell the place or even one item of equipment until I’ve lived here for six months.”

      Six months! Kyle was going to be her neighbor for the next half year? Sam’s knees hitched a little. “But you don’t intend to really stay here,” she said, panic chasing through her innards.

      “Haven’t got much of a choice.”

      There had been a time when she’d hoped to see him again, had planned the day, been ready to tell him off, nail him and call him the bastard he was. But she didn’t want it to happen like this, not so unexpectedly, blindsiding her when she wasn’t ready. “You’ll be here through Christmas?” she asked, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

      “That’s the plan.”

      He looked so cocky, so damned citified in his starched jeans, new hat, polo shirt and polished boots. He had no place being here. Oh, God, now what? Trying to regain her equilibrium and think clearly, she blurted, “But, but what about Grant?” He was the only one of Kate Fortune’s grandchildren faintly interested in ranching. Sam reminded herself that Grant McClure wasn’t a blood relative, but a stepbrother to Kyle and stepgrandson to Kate. Not that it had mattered during Kate’s lifetime. She’d treated Grant as if he were blood kin, though he’d spent little time with the Fortune family.

      “Grant inherited a horse.” Kyle’s gaze traveled to the muscular stallion who was eyeing the intruder with interest. The beast had the audacity to snort at him. “Fortune’s Flame.”

      “Joker.”

      “What?”

      She nodded toward the stallion. “That’s him. They’ve called him Joker from the time he was a foal. Always in trouble, and with his odd markings—” she motioned to the splashes of white on the animal’s coal black face “—it just seemed to fit.”

      “And what do you call him?”

      “Today?” she said with a twisted smile. “Demon, for starters. I have other names, but they’re not fit for mixed company.” Again she blew a stubborn strand of hair off her face as Kyle laughed, the sound rich and deep, like the first crack of thunder in a spring storm.

      Why hadn’t Kyle aged poorly? Why was he trim and fit, his face more chiseled now that all trace of boyishness had disappeared? Where was the hint of a belly? The graying of his hair? The softness of a rich man who didn’t have to raise a finger? Instead he was all hard angles and tight skin, slim in the waist and hips, wide across the shoulders. If anything, time had been inordinately kind to Kyle Fortune.

      “I haven’t met a horse yet that you couldn’t handle.”

      “Joker, here, just might be the one,” she said, though her mind wasn’t on the conversation, not when there were so many raw emotions racing through her, scraping against her heart. “He’ll be the death of me, I swear.”

      “I doubt it, Sam. The way I remember it, you liked nothing better than a challenge.”

      “Funny. That’s not what I remember.”

      All the laughter disappeared from his eyes. “No? Then what?”

      Oh, Lord. Her heart squeezed painfully. “You don’t want to know.”

      “Try me.”

      “Already have. It didn’t work out.”

      His lips flattened over his teeth and his jaw turned to granite. “You know, Sam, we don’t have to start out this way.”

      “Sure we do.” Oh, Kyle, if you only knew. Naked, gut-wrenching emotions tore at her and she could barely breathe. Life just wasn’t fair. Why was Kyle Fortune, the one man on this earth she’d sworn to despise, so damned sexy, even in his pressed Levi’s and the Ralph Lauren shirt that stretched a bit over his shoulders? He probably worked out in some gym, lifted weights until the sweat ran down his body as he eyed the women in their leotards, thongs and bodysuits. Kyle had always attracted females—like horse dung attracted flies. Including you, she reminded herself grimly.

      Dusting off her hands, she climbed to the top rail of the fence. “Since you’re here and all, I guess I can go home. I was just watching the place, playing overseer until Kate could hire a new foreman. Then she…” Sam couldn’t say the word, couldn’t believe that Kate Fortune—feisty, fun-loving, full-of-life Kate—could actually be dead. Though the woman had to be in her seventies, she’d been nowhere near the grave when a hellish plane crash over the rain forests of Brazil changed everything and snatched away Kate Fortune’s life.

      “How’s your dad?” Kyle asked, and Sam’s heart felt as if it were suddenly filled with lead.

      “Gone. He died about five years ago.”

      “Oh. Sorry. I…” He lifted his hands. “I didn’t know.”

      She shook her head. “Doesn’t surprise me. You don’t know much about anything here in Clear Springs, do you?” His eyes, blue as the summer sky, clouded a bit, and though she knew she СКАЧАТЬ