about. What to do about his future. What to do about his past. How to get through the long days and longer nights.
Whatever the reason, sex—for a man who’d always had his pick of beautiful women—had suddenly become unimportant.
Desire, lust, call it what you liked, had not returned. He hadn’t been with a woman since he’d been wounded, hadn’t wanted to be with one….
Until now.
He took a deep breath. Told himself to look away from the brunette with the silver eyes, but he couldn’t.
Not while she was looking at him.
He searched hard for that oh-you-poor-thing expression half the women in the room had showed him tonight.
It wasn’t there.
She was simply watching him, assessing him with a steadiness that was unsettling.
His jaw tightened.
Now she was smiling, her lips curving in a way that reached deep into his gut.
She mouthed a word.
Hi.
And lifted her wineglass in … what could it be but invitation?
“Her name is Addison. Addison McDowell.”
Caleb’s voice was low. Jake looked at him.
“What?”
“The woman you’re looking at.”
“I wasn’t looking at anybody.”
Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, just in case you were—”
“I just told you, I wasn’t.”
“My mistake,” Caleb said calmly. “I only meant—”
“What’s she doing in Wilde’s Crossing?”
His brothers exchanged a quick glance.
“She owns the Chambers ranch,” Travis said.
Jake cocked his head. “What do you mean, she owns the Chambers ranch? The old man always said he’d never sell it. The General tried to buy it a dozen times, remember? And—”
“And got turned down. Well, the old guy died. Pretty much the way you’d expect, still working his skinny butt off, refusing help from anybody, his temper nasty as ever. Turned out he’d mortgaged the place to the hilt. The General found out, told his lawyer to buy it, but the bank had already turned it over.”
“To her?”
“To some old rich guy from New York.”
A muscle knotted in Jake’s jaw.
“And she’s the old rich guy’s wife,” he said flatly.
“The rich guy kicked the bucket right after he took ownership.” Travis jerked his head toward the woman. “She inherited it.”
“So, she’s his widow.”
“No.”
“His daughter?”
“She was his friend.”
Jake looked at the woman again. She was still watching him, her gaze unfaltering.
“Must have been his very good friend,” he said coolly.
“Listen, man—”
“She doesn’t look much like a rancher to me.”
Travis laughed. “The understatement of the year.”
“It doesn’t help that the Chambers place is a disaster,” Caleb said.
“It almost always was.”
“Remember when we were kids and you worked there a couple of summers? You had lots of ideas about how to improve things.”
“Yeah, well, old man Chambers didn’t want to hear any ideas but his own.”
“Addison would.”
Jake looked at Caleb. “Addison?”
“She’s a friend.”
Jake brought his beer to his lips and took a long swallow. Why was the taste of it more bitter than before?
“Woman looks like that probably has a lot of ‘friends.’”
“She is,” Caleb repeated, his tone as cool as Jake’s, “exactly what I said. A friend.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Dammit, Jacob—”
“The point is,” Travis said quickly, “we thought you might help her.”
Jake almost laughed. He wasn’t having much luck helping himself, much less somebody else.
“You know, take a look at the land, the buildings—”
“Here’s the deal, Trav. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“We figured it would be something like that. Well, no sweat. Check the property for her, leave next week instead. A business deal.”
“Is that what you call your arrangement with her? A business deal?”
Why in hell had he said that? What did his brother’s relationship with a woman he’d never met—and never would meet—matter?
He saw Travis’s eyes narrow and he put out his hand and squeezed his shoulder.
“Sorry.” He managed a quick smile. “I guess I’m not used to talking to people who aren’t wearing cotton nightgowns that leave their butts hanging out.”
“As a matter of fact, the answer is yes. She’s my client. Caleb’s, too. I’m her financial consultant. He’s her lawyer. She’s a smart, tough broad. An attorney, like Caleb, but from New York. If I were you, I wouldn’t underestimate her.”
No. A man would be foolish to underestimate a woman who could pin him with a look.
“No danger of that,” Jake said. “I told you, I’m not staying, so you’d best not recommend me to—”
“We already did. Well, hell, why wouldn’t we? We told her you were the man she wanted. She’s, ah, she’s damn near convinced.”
Jake wasn’t listening. He was watching the woman again. And as he did, she raised her glass of wine to her lips, sipped at the ruby liquid, then ran the tip of her tongue over her lips.
A soft, low sound
