Читать книгу The Millionaire's Club: Connor, Tom & Gavin: Round-the-Clock Temptation / Highly Compromised Position / A Most Shocking Revelation - Michelle Celmer - Страница 16

Connor sat in a leather arm chair in the cigar lounge of the Cattleman’s Club, head resting on his fisted hand, struggling to stay awake. Figuring Nita would make good on her threat last night in the stable, Connor had slept sitting up on the bench in the foyer. Far enough away that he couldn’t hear her cry out, as she’d put it, but where he could catch her if she tried to sneak down the stairs and give him the slip again—which she had, at 5:45 that morning. And though he’d slept in far worse conditions in the Rangers, sheer sexual frustration had kept him awake most of the night. That and his own self-doubt.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what his brother had said, about what the right woman could do to a man, and how Connor needed to do something for himself. It was true that, since he’d been away from the engineering firm, since he’d started working the farm with Nita, he’d lost that feeling of restlessness, the bone-deep frustration he always seemed to feel whenever he let himself take a step back and look good and hard at his life. That frustration had always been the catalyst, the trigger for the irrepressible rage.

Not that he hadn’t felt frustration lately, but this was an entirely different variety. It was born from the need to keep Nita safe, from her constant refusal to listen to him. From the affection and attraction that he knew was wrong, and felt despite that.

Every so often he’d felt a flicker of something else, too. An emotion he hadn’t experienced in so long he’d barely recognized it.

He’d felt content.

Not that he expected it to last. It never did.

Jake dropped into the chair next to his. “You look like hell.”

Connor shot him an annoyed look. “Thanks.”

“Being a newlywed, I have a valid reason for being up half the night. What’s your excuse? Don’t tell me you turned her down.”

The look went from annoyed to deadly.

Jake laughed. “I don’t understand why you’re fighting it. You two are meant for each other.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I know Nita and I know you. She needs someone who won’t be threatened by her strength, someone who won’t try to change her, and you need someone who can show you how to have fun. I would say that makes you a perfect match.”

If what his brother was saying made a weird sort of sense, Connor wrote it off as the direct result of sleep deprivation. He knew he was loopy when the next question popped from his mouth. “What did you mean about what finding the right woman can do to a man?”

“Something just…clicks. You start to look at things differently, to see yourself differently. Your priorities change.”

“But you must have dated a hundred different women. How did you know Chris was the one?”

“It was the freckles,” Jake said with that goofy grin of his. “I’m a sucker for that woman’s freckles.”

“Freckles?” Leave it to Jake to give him such a ridiculous answer.

“In time, you’ll know exactly what I mean.” He slugged Connor in the arm, then got up to talk to Gavin, leaving Connor even more confused than he’d been before.

“Since we’re all here we should get started,” Tom said. Connor looked to the doorway and saw that Mark, just back from his honeymoon, had arrived. “I talked to my uncle Lucas yesterday. It took some persuading, but I finally got him to admit what he’d planned to tell Will Windcroft.

“It seems that after his grandfather, Jonathan, was killed, and my uncle was going through his things, he noticed some odd notations in his personal bookkeeping and large payments Jonathan had been receiving from an unknown source.”

“What are we talking about?” Gavin asked. “Extortion?”

“Lucas said his grandfather was a greedy bastard and was definitely capable of blackmail.”

“So, if we find out who he was blackmailing, we’ll most likely find his killer.”

“He also found letters to Jonathan. They were vague, but one mentioned a payment and a diary and how there could be trouble if the Windcrofts ever found out. Another talked of keeping the feud going.”

“Were the letters from someone in the Devlin family?” Logan wanted to know.

“I asked. Lucas said they weren’t signed, and there was no return address on the envelopes, but he was under the impression they were from someone outside the family.”

Gavin sipped his drink. “Meaning someone outside the Devlin family could have a stake in the feud, and has a reason for keeping it going. Do we have any idea who that could be? Or where this diary is?”

“No,” Tom said. “But if we find it, I get the feeling we’ll have all the answers we’re looking for.”

“And Lucas never told any of this to Will?” Connor asked.

“Lucas wanted to come clean with Will, but when Will refused to talk to him he felt stung. I believe he honestly wants to bring an end to the feud.”

“I could talk to Will,” Connor offered.

Tom shook his head. “I think it would be better coming from me. From a Devlin. But before I do, I’d like to dig a bit more and see what I can find. Some undisputed proof would make convincing him a lot easier.”

Gavin stood and set down his glass. “While you’re doing that, the rest of us will ask around about this diary and keep looking for the people causing the Windcrofts trouble. Have there been any more problems at the farm, Connor?”

“We found more holes yesterday morning. Nita has a man watching the property at night. I’ve instructed the hands to call me on my cell if they see anything suspicious. Until we know who we’re dealing with, I don’t want them trying to apprehend anyone.”

“Keep us posted on the situation and we’ll keep digging.”

When the meeting was over Connor called Nita to let her know he was ready to be picked up. She informed him curtly that she and Jimmy were shopping for groceries and she would be there when she was good and ready. All the way into town she and Jimmy had chatted while she’d ignored Connor. He figured she was still ticked off that she hadn’t been able to sneak away from him that morning. She also was growing increasingly frustrated with the fact that they had no housekeeper. Her father had shot down the two candidates they’d interviewed yesterday, saying they just weren’t right, and no one else had answered the ad.

Nita seemed to be at the end of her rope.

It was the middle of a workday and the club was fairly quiet, so Connor decided he might as well get some shut-eye while he waited. He walked back to the cigar lounge and made himself comfortable in a soft leather chair in the corner. He’d trained himself to sleep lightly in the Rangers, so when he heard the door open, heard the muffled sound of footsteps coming in his direction, he was only half-asleep.

Nita kicked his boot. “Wake up.”

He opened his eyes.

She hovered over him, hands on her hips, Stetson pulled low over her eyes.

“How did you get in here?” he asked.

A wry smile curled her mouth. “The staff here learned the hard way not to mess with me. I think they hide when they see me comin’.”

“Can’t say I blame them.”

Her grin widened. Apparently she wasn’t angry with him any longer. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

He pulled himself from the chair and followed her out to the truck. Jimmy was leaning against the passenger door waiting for them and the bed was filled with groceries and supplies.

“You tell him?” Jimmy asked.

Nita shot Connor a nervous look. “I told you, there’s nothing to tell. It was an accident.”

No wonder she was being so nice. She was hiding something from him. He should have known. “What was an accident?”

Jimmy ignored Nita’s warning look. “Me and Nita were on Main Street waiting to cross and a car came out of nowhere and nearly ran her down.”

Connor swore under his breath.

“I’m sure it was just an accident,” Nita said hastily. “No one would try to run someone down in the middle of a busy street on purpose.”

“If they were desperate to get rid of you they might,” Connor said. “What type of car was it?”

“It happened so fast I didn’t get a good look,” Jimmy said. “I’m pretty sure it was a black BMW. Maybe dark blue. Not much help considering half of Royal drives those.”

“You didn’t see the license place?”

Jimmy shook his head. “Happened too fast. By the time I heard Nita swear, and turned to see what had happened, the car was around the corner.”

Connor turned to Nita. “Exactly what happened?”

“The light changed, I started to cross, then this car came out of nowhere and shot through the light and turned right. I’m sure it was accidental and they just didn’t see me there.”

“Could you see the driver?”

“Like Jimmy said, it happened so fast. And the windows were tinted.”

Connor didn’t like the sound of this. He felt guilty for not being with her. He never should have taken his eyes off her. “Did anyone else see it? Did someone take down the license plate?”

“Why would they?” she snapped. “I told you it was an accident.”

No, he didn’t think it was an accident at all. If this person was bold enough to try to run her down on a busy street corner, things were even worse than he’d thought.

Nita stuck her head out the bedroom door and peered down the hall. Connor’s door was closed, meaning he’d gone to bed.

Too bad for him.

The grandfather clock in the office chimed twelve times as she tiptoed down the darkened hall toward the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky spot just above the top step. Since almost getting run over two days ago—which she was still convinced was an accident—Connor had been stuck to her like glue. She couldn’t use the bathroom without him hovering outside the door. And he must have made some sort of pact with the men, because whenever Connor wasn’t around, Jimmy or one of the hands kept her in their sights. She realized, in retrospect, that by continually trying to give him the slip, she’d probably only made things worse for herself. But she was beginning to feel smothered, and all she really wanted was a few blissful minutes to herself. Even if that meant just sitting on the swing and looking at the stars, which is exactly what she planned to do tonight.

She didn’t doubt someone was trying to scare them off the land, but besides the holes—which they now knew weren’t dug with the intention of hurting anyone—nothing had been done to put her or the staff in danger. Even the letters had been vague. Just your basic get off the land or else. Whoever penned them never specified what the or else would be if the Windcrofts didn’t comply. And here they were, still safe and sound on the land.

She crept across the wood floor to the front door and flipped the deadbolt, cringing as the click echoed through the foyer. She was reaching for the doorknob when a hand clamped down firmly over her shoulder. She let out a shriek of surprise and spun around, and was greeted by the deep baritone of Connor’s laughter.

“Are you trying to scare me half to death?” she admonished.

Through the dark she could see he was grinning. “Just making sure you don’t sneak away.”

“I wasn’t sneaking,” she lied.

“Uh-huh. That would explain why you were tiptoeing down the stairs.” He took in her tennis shoes, flannel pants and University of Texas sweatshirt. “Let me guess, you were sleepwalking?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I needed some fresh air to clear my head. I was going to sit on the swing.”

He pulled the door open and held it for her. “Let’s go.”

“Alone, Connor. If I wanted company, I would have woken you.”

“You have two choices. We can sit out on the swing together, or go back to bed.”

“Can we go back to bed together?” she asked, for the mere pleasure of teasing him, because she already knew the answer was no. And of course there was always that million-to-one chance she would catch him in the right mood and he would throw her against the wall, as he’d done in the stable, and ravage her.

“In or out,” he said.

And apparently tonight wasn’t going to be the night.

She sighed and said, “Since I’m up and dressed we might as well go out there.”

They walked onto the porch and he pulled the door closed behind them, then followed her down the steps and across the yard to the swing. The air carried a deep chill and dew soaked through the canvas of her shoes. The moon hung low in the sky casting a pale, eerie light across the land.

Nita plopped down in the middle of the swing seat, so that whichever side he chose, Connor would be right next to her. She thought he might complain, instead he sat beside her—so close that their thighs were touching—and draped his arm over the back of the swing behind her shoulders. He pushed off with his foot and they swayed gently back and forth.

“Out of curiosity, how did you know I was coming out here?” she asked.

He leaned his head back and gazed up at the sky. “I heard you moving around in your room. Then I followed you downstairs.”

And here she thought she’d been so quiet. “What did you do, levitate? I didn’t even hear you.”

“Don’t feel bad. It’s what I was trained to do.”

“Did you have to kill people, too?”

Through the dark she could see him frown. “Sometimes.”

“Jake said you served in the Middle East.”

He nodded.

“Is that where you were shot?”

“Yep.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “And you apparently don’t like to talk about it.”

The frown deepened. “The things I saw there, you wouldn’t want to know about. Things I wish even I could forget.”

He hadn’t revealed much, but she felt closer to him somehow, as if he’d exposed a part of himself no one else had ever seen. A part of her wanted to jump off the swing and do a happy dance, while another part warned her to back off. She didn’t want to care if he confided in her or not. She was getting too close.

Even when she was angry and frustrated with him, she couldn’t be near Connor without experiencing a giddy, excited sensation in her tummy. A need to touch him. To be touched. It was as intriguing as it was frustrating.

She didn’t know what it was about him that fascinated her so. She only knew that she wanted—no needed—to be near him. She wished he would just give in so their affair could run its course and she could stop feeling this way. She’d been so restless lately, so unfocussed and out of her element. It was as if her entire life was spinning out of control and he was the only thing keeping her rooted in reality. The only thing she could depend on, even if that meant depending on him to constantly avoid her advances.

And she didn’t like it one bit.

She shivered under her sweatshirt and Connor surprised her when he slipped his arm from the swing onto her shoulder.

“Cold?”

“A little. It’s chillier than I thought it would be.”

Well, this was nice. Unexpected, but nice. She inched a little closer and rested her head on his shoulder. The stubble on his chin was rough against her forehead and, Lord, did he smell good. That masculine, woodsy smell that made her want to bury her nose against his neck and sniff. Of course, she knew she couldn’t get that close to his neck without taking a nibble or two.

“I know what we could do to raise my body temperature,” she said, and heard him chuckle.

“You don’t give up easily, do you?”

“I’m not going to fall in love with you if that’s what you’re worried about. I know a lot of women say that but don’t really mean it. I’m too independent for that. I just want us to have some fun.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Nita. It’s too risky.”

Too risky? What was that supposed to mean? “Are you afraid I’m going to get pregnant or something? Do you think I have diseases?”

“It has nothing to do with that.”

“Is it my age? Do you think I’m too young? Too immature?”

He turned his head, brushed his lips across her hair. “Nope, you’re just right.”

She could feel how much he wanted her, could see it in his eyes every time he looked at her. Why wouldn’t he just give in to the inevitable? “Would you please explain to me exactly what the problem is? I’m getting a complex here.”

He was quiet for several minutes and she could practically feel him working it out in his head, deciding what to tell her. Finally he said, “I have a temper, Nita.”

She snorted. “Tell me something I didn’t already know. I have a temper, too. So what?”

“Sometimes I don’t have a lot of control over it. And when I get really angry, bad things happen.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Things I don’t want to talk about.”

She reached up, touched his cheek. “I’m not afraid of you, Connor.”

“You should be.” He grabbed her hand and held it, gazed down at her. “All my life, the only way I’ve been able to control my temper is to keep a tight rein on my emotions. But when I’m with you, when you touch me, I feel like I have no control at all.”

Instead of feeling fearful, a shiver of excitement raced through her. She wanted to make him lose control. Wanted to push him to feel everything he wouldn’t allow himself to feel. “It’s okay to lose control sometimes.”

The arm around her tightened. “Not for me.”

She could feel herself being pulled in emotionally, sinking too deeply into a relationship that should have been anything but. Yet she couldn’t stop it. She had to know.

“Tell me,” she said, looking up at him, disturbed by the anguish in his eyes, by the raw hurt. “Tell me what happened to make you feel this way. Why you don’t trust yourself?”

“Because I almost killed a man with my bare hands.”