Читать книгу High-Stakes Colton - Karen Anders - Страница 12

Chapter 3

Alanna had always used physical work as a means to keep her own ghosts at bay. If she kept busy, she wouldn’t think about how totally worried and upset she was about what had happened to her father.

But work wasn’t going to help here...now. Not with Jake’s voice so soft and deep. Not when he was so enticing, half-naked, with those sinfully tight jeans, unsnapped and showing off all that muscle in his hips.

The waning afternoon light angled over him, defining the solid ridge of muscles across his shoulders and up his torso, thick and hard across his chest, casting his deeply tanned skin in a patina of bronze. The strong angle of his jaw was highlighted by a stubble of beard, the burnished skin across his cheekbones drawn smooth. He looked like a heavy weighted anchor, not even an earthquake could shake him. The kind of anchor she craved in the deepest part of her where that little girl who had grown up so alone lurked.

It was an unspoken rule that Coltons did not talk to outsiders about family matters. Alanna had grown up an heiress, stood to inherit a large sum of money from all of the Colton holdings, it naturally made her wary of anyone who got too close.

And Jake was too close.

Not only in proximity.

But when Fowler had growled and said Jake’s last name like it was a swear word, she couldn’t get over here fast enough to find out what had happened. Now she was standing here with a loaded question regarding her father’s violent and mystifying disappearance. She lived in an environment where she always had to watch her back, even from her family members. The police seemed to be at a dead end after first clearing Fowler, then Zane. The turmoil the family had been through the last couple of months would rival a soap opera. Then who could trust Marceline? She hated Eldridge and had been acting so secretive and...well...guilty. Did she have something to do with his disappearance? Then there was her stepmother, Whitney. Her insistence and dedication to finding her Dridgey-pooh seemed real, but was she a good actress, really worried and upset, or did she hire someone to murder her husband? But if her dad was dead, where was his body? A painful contraction clutched at Alanna’s heart.

The need to talk to someone was an aching pressure against her breastbone, holding in the worry and the despair as each day passed. The fact that there was no news wore on her, tearing at her armor.

But Jake was an outsider, an unknown. His reputation aside, she couldn’t trust anyone, not inside her family circle or outside it. Not to mention, he’d also undermined her this morning with his refusal to take her seriously over Zorro.

“I suspect your brother isn’t the only one struggling with it.”

His voice was quiet and full of understanding as if he knew all about the kind of suffering that took chunks out of her. He tested her sense of balance. This bond they seemed to share was as unexpected as it was unwanted. At least on her end. The fear of giving in to that need for comfort was just as strong as her attraction for him. The problem was she hadn’t determined if he was friend or foe. But even if he was the former, she couldn’t risk it. At this point, she had no control, nor did Fowler believe she had what it took to be the decision maker for the stables. He’d told that to her face once it was clear he was now in charge. He and her father were one in the same mind about her abilities.

Jake would probably be just the same and letting an alpha get closer to her would be tantamount to jumping off the side of a cliff. She might as well give up. Besides, his time was limited. Once he realized Zorro was a lost cause, he would quit. All she had to do was resist temptation. Very potent temptation.

“We’re doing the best that we can,” she said, her response flat. It was time to turn tail and run.

She wasn’t too worried about him being inappropriate. Her worry was all about her misbehaving. Jake was potent enough and with his face and body and the sense that he was carrying the kind of pain she was made it all the more enticing to unburden herself to someone who would understand it. The pull of that was magnetic.

Either she wasn’t quick enough or he had the instincts of a predator as he blocked her attempt to leave by simply stepping into her path and setting the towels down on the coffee table.

“That’s all we can do,” he murmured. “The best we can.”

There was something in his voice that resonated with her big-time, like he knew what it was like to fight against something, as if constantly climbing a hill. She didn’t want this...connection with him. But against her will, it was there.

“I should get going,” she said, thinking to get out of his presence would be a good thing. “There’s still a lot of work to be done.” She should have curbed her impulse to come dashing over here after she’d seen the result of her brother and Jake meeting for the first time.

“You do work hard here.”

“You say that as if it surprised you.”

“Maybe it did. I expected you to be the queen, I guess. Not the worker bee.”

“You really can’t believe everything you read in the media, Mr. McCord.”

“How about I open my mind and you start calling me Jake?”

Did he want to be friends? Or more? She was getting the vibe that he wanted more, but now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe she was just projecting her own wishful thinking.

Curious about his background was an understatement. “How did you get into...horse whispering?”

He shrugged. “Fell into it. Had the knack and something that came naturally.”

“Which is really all it is. A fancy and manipulative way of labeling natural horsemanship. There’s nothing mystical about it.” She had a deeper conviction before she’d seen him calm down Firecracker, but she still held the belief that it was all science, not magic.

She paused to see if he would elaborate, but he said nothing more, and she took that to mean her line of questioning was over. Perhaps for the best. Information was fine, but in hindsight, the more he offered, she supposed, the more she owed in return. Maybe the less they had to talk about, the better.

As if to prove her point, he said, “You were the force behind Colton Valley Ranch Stables. How long have you been working with the horses?”

She stilled briefly, surprised he knew about her past. Not that it was a secret. Alanna knew reports of her work history out in the public domain were pure fluff. It could be that the people who worked for her talked, but it was discouraged. Still, it was more than a little unsettling to think he’d been checking up on her, or asking about her. Her guard increased. “I was the one who brought it up to my father when I was younger and had gotten into barrel racing. He was all about the cattle, but I loved the horses.” Still, she found it hard to maintain direct eye contact in the face of Jake’s rather intense focus. She doubted he missed much, and after dealing with Fowler’s surprise purchase of Zorro and her father’s sanctioning of it, her guard was in need of a bit more shoring up before handling this kind of test.

“I’m guessing you’re an island here.”

Her heart took a jolt. “How so?”

“It’s not easy to buck traditions, especially in a male-dominated industry.”

Those softly spoken words wormed under the armor she had just been shoring up. She blinked a couple of times, forcing herself to maintain steady eye contact, but it cost her. She could only pray he didn’t see how his words affected her down to that seething, frustrated woman deep inside her.

“This is a man’s business,” she replied, feeling it was a pat and safe answer. There was no denying that ranching and the cowboy way were squarely in the male-dominated arena. Especially in Texas where the men had big, strong personalities, called their women “little ladies” and pampered the hell out of them.

“I got a feeling men in general and Colton men in particular don’t have a clue about your strength and staying power.”

She had to relax and respond as if this was just a normal getting-to-know-you conversation, which it likely was. She was so used to keeping everything to do with outsiders, hell, with her own family, superficial. She didn’t want anyone getting to know her, that was all. Especially not this man, with his crystal eyes and overwhelming intensity. He made her nervous and made her pulse race, all at the same time.

She grinned. “That is for sure.”

“Discounting you is a mistake, Alanna. I’m sure you’ll rub their noses in it before all is said and done.”

She tried to maintain a casual air, but his comments made her wonder if he was simply innocent and supportive. Could he really be working for Fowler? Against her? It wouldn’t be the first time Fowler would stoop to underhanded ways of gaining information. Was Jake pumping her for information? With all the backstabbing going on, that was not out of the realm of possibility.

She had to consider it and keep Jake in her sights until she could discover if he was here to train Zorro or be her brother’s snake-in-the-grass spy.

Or could he have his own personal agenda. She couldn’t discount he might want her money or to bed the Colton heiress or both.

Usually she could spot a fake a mile away, but even with her convictions about horse whispering, he was hard to read.

“You gotta play to win.” Her lips curved a little, despite the nerves jumping around in her stomach.

“Maybe you can tell me about it sometime.”

Damn, he was unnerving and it was unnerving enough, just standing so close. Jake didn’t strike her as the kind of man who would work for her brother against her. But, she couldn’t underestimate Fowler. She loved him, but he would do what was best for the Coltons’ business interests, even foil her attempts to get her way.

She wanted to expand into barrel racers and open a training facility, as well. It would diversify the business and use the expertise of her current employees. But Fowler couldn’t possibly know that. She hadn’t trusted anyone with her ideas, not even her father. She’d drawn up the plans, scouted all the stallions and broodmares, and projected all the costs and the revenue. This was her baby and she’d sink or swim on her own. That’s the way it would be.

Jake was standing far too close—at least, that was the excuse she used for taking a slight step back. He didn’t allow the escape, minor though it was. A small step and he was even closer to her than before.

“Maybe,” she responded noncommittally. He cocked his head, and there was interest in those blue eyes, but she couldn’t be certain exactly what the source of it was. When he turned it on, the heat was so intense, she felt scorched clear down to her toes. She had muscles quivering in places she’d normally have to be naked to have quivering, and he hadn’t so much as laid a finger on her.

And, God help her, in that moment, she certainly wanted him to lay fingers and a whole lot more on her.

Trying desperately to shake herself free from such a spellbinding haze, she broke away from his intent gaze and sidestepped around him. Unfortunately, it required her to slide and put her hands briefly on his chest since they were in such close quarters. Without warning he settled his arms around her and spun her toward the door, not letting her go immediately.

His skin burned beneath her palms and the look in his eyes sent weakness through her, her nipples were so tight they hurt.

His head dipped, but he didn’t move any closer. The twitch of his lips was more of a real smile now, one that made it all the way to his eyes, crinkling the corners. And wasn’t that just lethal and oh so sexy. “Maybe, huh? Don’t be too worried about setting me in my place. I can handle rejection.”

She couldn’t help it. She smiled back. “I’m taking a shot in the dark here, but I bet that doesn’t happen to you often if at all.”

He lifted a shoulder, but didn’t respond.

She still didn’t believe the interest wasn’t just a cover for something else.

“I won’t keep you any longer.” It was his voice, she decided, as if he was hypnotizing her the way he did horses. The timbre of his voice when he said “keep,” how it dropped an octave, melted her. “Oh, thanks for the towels.” The twinkle resurfaced, as did the eye crinkling. “And for the concern over your brother, but I can handle him.” He was intensity personified, which she was clearly struggling to resist. She really didn’t need him to be charming, to boot.

“Thank you for the compliments.”

“All true.”

She was looking straight at him—like she could look anywhere else, even if she wanted to—and she could swear he was telling the truth. Maybe she was paranoid. Maybe he really was simply here to train Zorro and to kill some time flirting with an heiress.

But being paranoid was what had kept her one step ahead of her father and brother, the press, businessmen who thought she was a pushover, and blue-eyed flirts who thought she was starved for attention and might be an easy lay. She couldn’t afford to be anything but an island.

But he made it easy to respond to this verbal foreplay he’d so effortlessly begun. Like, even if she didn’t have bigger things to worry about, she’d want the attentions of a guy who may be anywhere from a low-down spy to a bedpost notcher.

“You wouldn’t be trying to get us both into trouble, would you?”

His lips curved. There was a flash of white teeth. “Maybe,” he said before he closed the door.

She stood there for a moment, then realized she was in the hall. How she’d gotten there escaped her.

Maybe she was starved for attention and maybe he was cowboy sexy wrapped up in a gorgeous, well-muscled package with all kinds of sidetracking possibilities.

But everything about her upcoming coup d’état had to stay hush-hush. She was going out on a limb with her plans, going against her father’s wishes and now against Fowler’s.

She was an island all right. One surrounded by shark-infested waters.

She couldn’t trust a soul. Or could she?

Was Jake one of those hungry sharks or was he that lone rescue ship on the horizon?

* * *

A few days later, things weren’t any better. She’d tossed and turned every night thinking about Jake and his hot body and tame-the-savage-beast sexy voice.

Currently, she was grinning as she stood behind the open stall door and watched Clay Ford, one of her kids from the community project Colton Valley Ranch Gives Back lead Lotus out. She had no worries about the horse acting up. Excluding Clay doing something totally unusual, Lotus would go through the motions on autopilot, as she’d done a million times before.

Other than overseeing the breeding, shoeing and general upkeep of the stables, Alanna had kept pretty much to the arena and away from Zorro’s paddock. She didn’t want to come into contact with Jake. Hopefully, he could do his horse-whispering magic, then go back to where he came from.

Just because she took the time to put on makeup and a little lip color or take care to put on some skinny jeans with a black tank and a short-sleeved checked shirt tied under her breasts and a pair of really cute black boots when she normally wore ratty working clothes and worn brown boots didn’t mean a thing.

She certainly didn’t need to worry about Lotus misbehaving. The one she needed to worry about was herself. In any near vicinity, Jake was potent enough. Up close in any personal proximity, he was downright intoxicating. He was intensity, charm, humor with the kind of focus that made her want to smooth her hair back and moisten her lips. Hell, if she was honest he made her want to do a whole lot more than that. There had been moments where she could have sworn he was thinking the same thing. Thank God there had been plenty of interruptions.

Even if Jake wasn’t the enemy she feared—and she wasn’t certain about that yet—he wasn’t an ally, either. Of any sort. Couldn’t be, not in her current circumstances. She just hadn’t counted on that bothering her so much.

She closed the stall door as soon as the horse was out, then walked on ahead of them, toward the crossover to the other aisle.

“What if she doesn’t go?”

She turned and smiled when she found him still standing just outside the stall. “No worries, Clay. She’s quite the lady and will be fine. You did say you wanted to learn to ride.”

He nodded, his whiskey-brown eyes still wary of the mare which wasn’t a bad thing. A healthy respect for animals that weighed tons of pounds and could with a flick of their head or a movement of their body do some serious damage. He was a handsome kid, one who had that bad boy vibe going and the chip on his shoulder, using a disarming grin to get by. He’d gotten into some trouble with the law over shoplifting, but it was because he was living on the street.

It was satisfying work—more than satisfying, she thought, as she replayed some of the kids’ reactions today as they spent time around these magnificent beasts.

In the few months since she’d worked to get the program going, it had never ceased to move her, the way the animals brought out so much in jaded teens who were otherwise so closed off, mostly due to forces beyond their control and largely terrible situations and circumstances. She wasn’t sure if she could save any of these kids, the system was a tough place to be, but she hoped she could give them some values and responsibility, show them what it was to work hard for a good cause. Give them a purpose for now and maybe...just maybe they would find something they could use for their continuing journey into adulthood.

She wanted to enrich their lives, giving them windows of opportunity to express and enjoy themselves in ways that conventional therapy methods could not. Oftentimes, the look on a teen’s face made it clear how vitally important their being here really was.

It was invigorating, but also exhausting. A whole lot of emotions were being expended into the air of Colton Valley Ranch Stables every single day, and it did zap a person, even if it was for the very best of reasons. Today had been one of those days. She’d debated even working with Clay, not wanting to risk him or Lotus picking up on her less-than-sharp reflexes, or worse, her tension. Tension that really had nothing to do with the day she’d put in, and everything to do with the man who had invaded her world. But the day she’d put in made hiding those feelings a little tougher. And she needed all the stamina she could muster to make it through this lesson.

She heard some stamping down the aisle and saw it was Mimosa getting shoed. Ah, bad timing. That horse was ornery on her best days and nasty on her worst. She didn’t recognize the farrier with a stable hand. He must be new here.

Torn between teaching Clay and calling their lesson quits to deal with the unruly mare, she was just about to get Lotus back into her stall and postpone the lesson when Jake appeared. That man seemed to know exactly when a horse needed to be gentled or soothed. And, just like before, Mimosa calmed as if by...magic.

All up and down the row of stalls, equine heads popped out. Lotus turned and with a soft nicker greeted Jake as if he was one of their own. It was eerie and uncanny. He stood framed in the light, his gray broad-brimmed Stetson casting his face in shadows, his plaid shirt open at the neck, tucked into a pair of worn jeans as he stood with his thumb hooked in the front pocket. The hair on the back of her neck rose and she found that she was holding her breath.

Oh, for the love of God, she wasn’t going to buy in to it, but she was beginning to suspect Jake had some skill which only made her want to run in the other direction.

Then Jake looked up and Mimosa sidled, the look on his face was thunderstruck, pain rolling across his features like a tidal wave. She followed his line of vision right to Clay.

Clay, standing in profile while his attention was on the horse, sensed something, too, as he looked over his shoulder at Jake. Clay’s head whipped back around and he took a quick breath and it looked for a moment like fear in his eyes as if he saw the long arm of the law reaching for him.

Her attention went back to Jake, sensing his sudden withdrawal, as if walls had suddenly gone up, Mimosa settled once again.

With Jake’s expression fixed and shuttered, there was a grimness around Jake’s mouth that made her stomach drop.

Their eyes held, her stomach twisting, feeling as though she had witnessed something, very personal, and so painful.

The farrier finished and Mimosa was led away. Jake settled the gray Stetson onto his head like he was going into battle, and headed toward her and Clay.

She couldn’t help but wonder what had put that look of bitterness in his eyes.