Round-the-Clock Temptation (7 page)

“Looks like our digger was back,” she told him. “I found more holes in the west corral. I want the boys to fill them, then search every inch of the property for more.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

She hopped down from her horse and headed for the house to see if her daddy was up. They had housekeepers to interview starting at ten.

“When were you planning on telling me about the holes?” Connor asked from behind her. From the tightness in his voice, she could tell he was still angry, but trying hard to hold it in. He'd feel a whole lot better if he just blew up at her and got it out of his system. He was too closed off, too darned controlled all the time.

Knowing she was throwing kindling on the flames, Nita shrugged and said, “You didn't ask.”

“I shouldn't have to.”

“Look, Connor,” she shot over her shoulder. “I don't
have time to babysit you today. Why don't you make yourself useful and go help the men fill the holes?”

“You know I can't do that.”

“I'll be perfectly safe in the house with Daddy.”

“Your father is in a cast. If someone were to come in and grab you, what would he be able to do to stop them?”

“I don't think someone is going to waltz into the house in the middle of the day.”

“It doesn't matter what you think,” he said, his voice so tight she'd bet that given one good pluck, his vocal cords would snap in two.

She could see there was no reasoning with him. Not that she'd
ever
been able to reason with him, so it wasn't a big surprise. And boy, he was cranky today. Probably sexual frustration, she decided. If he had just given in last night, after she was through with him, he'd have slept like a baby.

He followed her in the back door, through the mudroom, and into the kitchen. Her father was at the table eating a bowl of cold cereal.

“Morning, Daddy, how do you feel?”

He slammed his spoon down on the table. “I'm sick of cold cereal, that's how I feel. When are those housekeepers coming?”

Jeez, was everyone in a foul mood this morning? “The first one is coming at ten.”

“How many answered the ad?”

“Only two.”

“Only
two
?”

Nita shrugged. “People talk. Everyone knows what's been happening out here. Can you blame someone for not wanting to get involved? Maybe we should try ad
vertising in other cities.” Or just call Jane, she wanted to add.

He muttered something about “Those damned Devlins” then boosted himself on his crutches and hobbled out of the room.

Nita hoped the interview process was only a formality, and that her daddy would come to his senses and ask Jane to come home soon. Nita figured it was just a matter of time before he missed Jane so much he would be begging her to return.

“I talked to my brother last night,” Connor said from his spot near the door. He didn't look angry anymore. Just mildly annoyed. “Jake would like to bring the map by tonight about seven.”

“Map?”

“The one that was stolen from the museum,” he reminded her. “The one Gavin wanted me to look at.”

“Oh, right. Fine by me,” she said.

“I also talked to Clint about the security evaluation and he said he'd be by around three, day after tomorrow.”

“Not that I think this evaluation will do much good, but I'll listen to what he has to say.” She cleared her daddy's breakfast dishes and carried them to the sink.

“Nita, about last night…”

Not this again. Sheesh. Rub it in my face why don't you.
She leaned on the edge of the sink. “You don't have to explain. I get it.”

“I just want to make it clear, it wasn't you.”

“I understand. You were embarrassed. It's okay.”

His eyebrow dipped low. “Embarrassed?”

“About your condition.”

“Condition?” Connor folded his arms across his
chest, wondering what the hell she was talking about now. “And what
condition
might that be.”

Her eyes drifted to the vicinity of his crotch. “The damage.”

He couldn't tell if she was serious, or just yanking his chain. “What damage are we talking about?”

“From the explosion. I understand why you're afraid to let me see it. But you should know, I wouldn't be bothered by any…abnormalities. I mean, penises are pretty funny looking to begin with, so how bad could it be?”

“Nita, what are you talking about? Why would you assume any part of my anatomy is abnormal?”

“I'm not assuming anything. You said so yourself last night.”

“When?”

“You said your goods were damaged.”

He nearly laughed out loud. Leave it to her to twist his words into something so totally off the wall. He might have been offended if he wasn't so damned amused. “Nita, trust me when I say my goods are just fine.”

She shrugged and walked past him, through the kitchen doorway, calling over her shoulder, “Hey, whatever you say.”

He followed her down the hall and into the office. “What, you don't believe me?”

She crossed the room and sat in the chair behind her wide, cluttered oak desk. “Connor, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“You're right, I don't. Because there's nothing wrong with me.”

She flipped open her laptop. “So you've said.”

She was goading him now, and he was having too
much fun not to play along for a while. To see exactly what she thought she might accomplish by antagonizing him. Though he already had a pretty good idea.

She needed justification. She needed to know why he'd rejected her. What she'd done wrong.

And the answer was nothing. She done everything right. He was the one with the problem. If only she knew how difficult it had been for him to turn her away last night, how much he still wanted her. He had no idea how she'd made it this far in life thinking that she wasn't feminine, that she looked like a boy. She had to be one of the most desirable, sexiest women he'd ever met. The kind of woman he typically avoided at all cost, which was a little tough to do living in the same house, shadowing her every move.

“You know,” she said, thoughtfully. “They have some wonderful new drugs out to help men with certain…problems.”

He swallowed a grin. “Not only am I deformed, now I'm impotent, too?”

“I'm only telling you so you don't think it's hopeless. There is help out there for men like you.”

“What was it you said last night? Everything seems to be working fine?”

She let out a long, gusty sigh and rolled the chair back from the desk. “If you're so determined to convince me I'm wrong, I guess I'll just have to see it.”

Somehow he knew it would come to this. “You will, huh?”

“Drop your pants. Let's have a look.” She propped her elbows on the armrests and linked her fingers under her chin—the picture of solemnity, but there was no
mistaking that impish gleam in her eye. “Come on, don't be shy. I promise I won't laugh.”

No, he knew she wouldn't laugh. He didn't even want to think of what she might do if she got him out of his pants. But whatever it was, he was sure she'd do it well.

He propped his hands on the desk and leaned forward, looking her right in the eye, so there was no mistaking what he was about to tell her. “I like you, Nita. Too much. Which is exactly why I can't get involved with you. There's a lot that you don't know about me.”

She held his gaze. “Does that mean you won't be taking off your pants?”

“No, I won't.”

She shrugged and rolled her chair up to her computer. “Then get lost, I have work to do.”

“So we understand each other?”

“Yes, Connor. We understand each other. Personally, I think you're blowing this whole sex thing
way
out of proportion, but I guess it's your loss.” She made a shooing gesture with her hands. “Now go 'way. I have things to do before the applicants get here.”

“I'll be on my bench in the foyer if you need me,” he said, then headed for the door. He glanced back on his way out and saw that she was mesmerized by whatever she was working on.

She'd been awfully agreeable about the whole thing.
Too
agreeable. He couldn't escape the feeling that he hadn't heard the last of this.

“I
t's sort of pretty,” Nita said, running her fingers across the photocopy of the map, over scores of tiny hearts, all different shapes and sizes. “What do they mean?”

“That's what we're trying to figure out,” Gavin said. He stood between her and Jake.

Connor stood across from them on the other side of the kitchen table. He'd been keeping his distance all day. Not that he wasn't still following her everywhere, he'd just been doing it from a couple yards away.

He was a tough one to figure out. She'd told him she didn't want commitment, and still he'd turned her down, even though he was obviously attracted to her—because there were things about him she didn't know. Well, heck, there were things about her he didn't know, either. They didn't have to be best buddies to enjoy each other's…company. As far as she was concerned, it was
better that they weren't. She didn't like it when men got attached to her. That was right about the time they started trying to change her, to mold her into something she didn't want to be. Something she
couldn't
be.

He thought he had issues? Well, who didn't? That shouldn't stop them from having fun.

“We've been looking for some sort of pattern,” Jake told Nita. “But so far we've come up empty.”

There was a time, when she first met Connor, that she'd thought Jake was the more attractive of the two. His stunning smile and cheerful disposition were hard to resist. But there was something about Connor, something dark and exciting, that intrigued her.

And the more Connor eluded her, the more frustrated she grew. Maybe it was the thrill of the chase, but she'd never wanted a man the way she wanted him. It felt almost like an obsession. Getting in his pants was all she seemed to think about anymore, and at the same time, it wasn't about sex.

She didn't know what it was about anymore.

“There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it,” Gavin said. “If we knew the location of the land, it might make more sense. All we know is that it's somewhere in Royal.”

“We thought maybe Connor would recognize some of the markings,” Jake added.

Connor shook his head. “Sorry. It's like nothing I've ever seen before.”

“It looks old,” Nita said.

“Jessamine Golden disappeared shortly after the turn of the last century,” Jake told her, “making the map at least one hundred years old. Most of the landmarks
could be long gone by now. It could be next to impossible to determine its location.”

“Let me have a look at that.” Her daddy hobbled in from the living room on his crutches. “I've lived in Royal my whole life, maybe I'll recognize the land.”

Jake and Gavin nodded and Connor stepped aside so Will could take a look.

Her daddy studied it for all of about two seconds when his brow furrowed and he asked, “You fellas aren't pulling my leg now, are you?”

“What do you mean?” Nita asked.

“I mean, is this some kinda joke?”

“You recognize it?” Connor asked.

“Well, of course I do. This here is Windcroft land.”

Nita looked at the map again and shook her head. “But Daddy, that's too big to be Windcroft land.”

“But it used be bigger,” Connor reminded her.

“Before the Devlins stole it from us,” her daddy added bitterly. “I reckon this map was drawn up before the poker game.”

Nita looked over at Connor. “Are you telling me that all that gold is buried
here?
”

Connor smacked himself in the forehead. “All this time it was staring us right in the face. I can't believe I didn't figure it out before.”

“Figure what out?” Jake asked.

“All the holes dug on the property.”

“Oh my gosh,” Nita said, the truth knocking her for a loop. “They weren't dug to hurt the horses after all. Someone was looking for buried treasure!”

“And I'll bet that gold is the reason that someone has been trying to get you off the land,” Connor said.

“But who?” Gavin asked.

“Jonathan Devlin had this map,” Will said. “And he would have recognized the land, too. Probably every one of the Devlins knows about it.”

“But do they know which heart marks the treasure?”

“Considering all the holes we found,” Nita said, “they don't have a clue.”

“There's so many of them,” Will said. “It could be anywhere. In the corrals, under the stables or the house. It could take years to find it.”

“And we still don't know who's doing the digging,” Nita added.

“But we're getting closer,” Jake said, rolling the map. “Connor, could Gavin and I have a word with you?”

“Nita, would you mind if we use the office?” Connor asked.

“Of course not,” she said.

“Wait for me here,” he told her, his tone threatening enough to let her know he meant business.

She saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

Shaking his head, Connor led his brother and Gavin into the office, switched the light on and closed the door. “What's up?”

“We just wondered how things are going out here,” Jake said. “If you've found any evidence linking Nita to Jonathan Devlin's murder.”

“Nita is a lot of things, but she's not a murderer. Alison is right, she's not capable.”

Jake grinned. “Is that your personal or professional opinion?”

He shot his brother a look.

“She is awfully cute,” Jake taunted.

Gavin laughed. “If she ever heard you call her that, I'll bet you'd be nursing a black eye. She doesn't strike me as the type who would appreciate men referring to her as
cute.
”

“Does she know why you're really here?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, she knows,” Connor grumbled, and she sure as hell hadn't been making his job easy. Twice that day he'd taken his eyes off her for about half a second, and when he turned around, she was gone. She was stealthy as a cat and twice as obstinate. She was going to fool around and get herself hurt.

That gold was worth millions. If it really was buried somewhere on their property as the map indicated, who knows to what lengths the people searching for it would go to get their hands on it.

“By your tone, am I to assume she's giving you trouble?” Jake asked.

“From what I hear, trouble is her middle name,” Gavin said.

Connor snorted. “That's an understatement.”

“At least we know for certain that someone else is responsible for the problems out here,” Gavin said. “And we know why.”

“But is it the Devlins?” Jake wanted to know.

“Tom called me today saying he had new information about the feud,” Gavin told them. “Rumor has it that about four weeks after Jonathan died, his grandson Lucas, Tom's uncle, approached Will Windcroft in the Royal Diner. Witnesses heard Lucas saying something about the two of them needing to talk, but Will got angry and stormed out of the restaurant. Tom was sup
posed to have a meeting with Lucas to try to find out what it was he needed to talk about.”

“Maybe it'll be the answer we're looking for,” Jake said.

“I'm hoping it is. He wants us to meet at the club tomorrow afternoon. Can you make it, Connor?”

“Nita mentioned driving into town for supplies. We can bring Jimmy, the stable manager, along to keep an eye on her. She should be safe with him while I come to the club.”

They agreed on 3:00 p.m. and Connor walked them out to their cars. Jake hung back and, after Gavin had driven away, he asked, “So, what do you think of her?”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

Yeah, Connor did, and he didn't want to talk about it. “It's a job.”

“There's chemistry there.”

It wasn't a question, and even if it had been, Connor couldn't deny it. And he
still
didn't want to talk about it.

“I knew there would be. It's part of the reason I recommended you for the job.”

What was he, some kind of matchmaker now? “Well, you were wasting your time.”

“You know, Connor, it wouldn't kill you to relax and have some fun for a change. Do something for yourself.”

“You would know a lot about that,” Connor said, regretting his harsh tone the second the words left his mouth. He wasn't being fair. Jake had changed. And he'd proven that in his race for mayor.

Jake being Jake, the insult slid right off his back. “Connor, you'd be amazed what finding the right woman can do to a man.”

There was no right woman for Connor. And even if he found her, it simply couldn't be. He had too much anger, too much rage. He could try to explain, but Jake would never understand. They might look alike, but inside they couldn't be more different.

The truth was, Connor wished he were more like his brother.

“I'll see you tomorrow at three,” Connor said, opening Jakes car door.

Taking Connor's not so subtle hint, Jake grinned and got inside. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

Connor watched him drive away, until his taillights were two red specks in the blackness of the night, then he went in the house to find Nita and tell her about tomorrow's meeting. Will was in the family room watching a football game.

“Where's Nita?”

Will barely glanced up at Connor, his attention rooted to the television. “She went out to the stable for something. Said you could meet her out there.”

Connor closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. She'd done it again. She'd completely ignored what he'd assumed was a pretty direct order. And by doing so, had once again put herself in danger. She didn't seem to understand how serious this situation had become.

Anger shooting his blood pressure into the red zone, Connor stomped his way through the kitchen and mudroom out into the night. The sky was overcast and black as pitch. It was so dark the back porch light barely lit his way to the stable. From the bunkhouse he could hear laughter and music and warm light glowed behind the curtains.

The main stable was dark.

She's in there, perfectly safe, he told himself. She'd only left the lights off to scare him. That's what he had to believe, because the alternative wasn't even worth considering.

He pulled the door open and stepped inside, his eyes taking a second to adjust to the dim light, relief washing over him when he saw Nita. Relief that quickly dissolved into anger.

She stood in front of Goliath's stall, illuminated only by the lamp burning on the desk in the stable office. Soft light surrounded her, making her hair shimmer as she moved, making her skin look soft and translucent. She looked…beautiful. If he hadn't been so damned mad, it would have taken his breath away.

“So, this is how it's going to be,” he said. “You slipping away from me whenever I'm not looking?”

She ran a brush down the side of the horse's neck. “I like to come out here at night. It's peaceful. It helps me think.”

“And it's dangerous.”

“I'm all right, aren't I?”

“Do you have any idea what's at stake here? I've seen what people will do for money, the lengths they'll go to. That gold is worth millions, and someone is after it. Right now you're the only thing standing in their way.”

“I refuse to be a victim. To be afraid in my own home.” She turned to face him and for a moment he was taken aback. She may have sounded confident and downright belligerent, but he could see genuine concern in her eyes. And fear. Their discovery tonight had ob
viously ruffled her more than she'd let on, and the anger he'd been feeling slipped.

“You don't have to be a victim, but you do have to be smart,” he said, suddenly feeling sorry for her. She was so tough, so burdened with responsibility, he wondered if she ever allowed herself to let it all go. To be vulnerable.

Somehow he doubted it.

“We can't let word out that the gold is here,” she said. “We'll have every kook in the county trying to find it. And what if it's all a ruse? What if that map is some kind of red herring?”

As he drew closer to her, his body came alive with awareness. He couldn't be in the same room without getting caught up in her scent, without being mesmerized by the way her body moved. “I have a meeting tomorrow to discuss the feud. It seems there have been new developments. Maybe it will help us to figure out who's responsible.”

“I just want this to be over before our business is ruined,” she said, frustration keen in her voice. She turned to hang the brush back on its hook, but not before he could see the stark sadness on her face. His first instinct was to pull her into his arms and just hold her. To give her the freedom to let go.

He stepped up behind her and laid his hands over her shoulders, realizing instantly that touching her had been a mistake. The contact shot through him like jolt of pure energy. But by then it was too late. The second he touched her, Nita turned and pressed herself against him. His arms naturally went around her, holding her close. He had never imagined that something as simple
as holding a woman could feel so damned good. So…erotic. He was hyperaware of every inch of her supple figure, the body heat that seeped though her clothes.

Instead of pulling away, he let his cheek rest against the softness of her hair. He wanted to tangle his fingers through it, tilt her head and kiss her. Take everything he'd never let himself take from a woman and give it all back in return.

Nita's hands flattened against his back and began to drift slowly downward. She pressed her face against his chest, her breath hot through his shirt. He could tell by her increased breathing, by the way her body went from rigid and tense to soft and pliable, she was just as aroused.

Then he felt her breath on his neck, her lips on his throat. He had to stop this. He had to end it before they went too far, before they reached the point of no return. What had made him think he could touch her this way without wanting more?