doesn’t represent the kind of fortune they’d go to extreme lengths to get their hands on.”
“Exactly. So what’s the explanation?”
Roark shook his head, as much at a loss for a motive as she was.
Samantha stared at him. Though she hadn’t been aware of it happening, he was seated beside her on the bed…too close. She was conscious again of all that expanse of naked chest. “How can you go around like that? Aren’t you freezing?”
“I’m warm enough.”
“I’m bundled in a coat, and I’m still like ice. My hands are, anyway.”
By the time she realized her admission was a mistake, it was too late. He had already captured her hands between his own.
“So let me share some of my heat.”
His strong fingers began to massage her hands, briskly at first and then more slowly and deeply. She should have stopped him, but his treatment felt too good, as soothing as a warm bath.
“Better?”
“Mmm.”
Another error probably, because he must have read her languid acknowledgment as an invitation. His performance became decidedly sensual, his hands stroking hers with a series of caresses that could only be defined as seductive. Her gaze met his, searching his eyes that had become so dark a blue they were like midnight, intense with his unmistakable arousal.
“What are you thinking?” she challenged him nervously.
“That I’d like to share more than just the heat of my hands.” He leaned toward her, his mouth mere inches from hers, his voice low and raspy. “What are you thinking, Samantha?”
He was so close now she could feel the male heat radiating from the sleek flesh of his naked chest, searing her with his desire. In another moment his mouth would cover hers, their breaths mingling as he devoured her with his lips and tongue. She had never been so tempted, nor so terrified of the consequences.
“I’m thinking,” she answered him firmly, removing her hands from his and pulling away from his potent nearness, “that I’m not going to risk getting burned.”
He stared at her for a long minute, frowning. She could see he was trying to understand. “What just happened? Because I’ve got to tell you, I thought you were as interested as I was in getting—”
“Intimate?”
“Well, yeah.”
“You’re a cowboy, Roark. You may be a PI, but at heart and in soul you’re a cowboy.”
“What’s wrong with cowboys?”
“I don’t get involved with them. Ever.”
“Why? Why do you have this resistance to everything connected with ranching? And don’t tell me it’s because of the sour relationship you had with your grandfather. I don’t buy it. There’s a better explanation than that.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s the only explanation I have.” She got to her feet, needing to get away, needing to escape from her treacherous susceptibility to him. “I’m going back to my room. I think we should both try to get some sleep with what’s left of the night.”
And that wouldn’t be easy, Samantha realized. Not with her emotions threatening to betray her every time she came within touching distance of Roark Hawke.
CONCEALED IN THE SHADOWS, he stood on the slope above the ranch house and watched the light go out in her window.
He had missed an easy opportunity tonight. If the PI hadn’t rushed to her rescue…
Hawke was a frustration all right. Always there, guarding her. A definite problem. Never mind, there would be other opportunities. He would wait for them, and he would get to her in the end. But he had to be careful. No one must guess. An accident would be best. If he could arrange an accident…
Whatever it took. Because she had to be eliminated before the end of the drive. Everything depended on that.
Chapter Four
There was a mist in the valley where they gathered in the chill dawn.
“It’ll burn off when the sun clears the horizon,” Roark said, studying the sky. “We should have clear weather for our first day.”
Samantha, standing beside him, nodded. She knew he was no more interested in the weather at this moment than she was. He was merely trying to keep her distracted. She silently blessed him for that, and for making no mention of what had happened between them last night…or, what had almost happened.
Roark’s effort, however, was a wasted one. Nothing could divert her attention from the longhorns milling restlessly behind the barbed wire barricade that kept them in the valley. Close up like this, they weren’t a sight that encouraged her with their long legs, mottled hides in a variety of colors and patterns, and wicked-looking horns. They seemed to be watching her as unhappily as she eyed them.
“They sense they’re about to be moved out,” Roark explained. “Cattle are resistant to leaving their home range.”
She didn’t blame them. Given a choice, she would have remained here herself.
“They’ll settle down after an hour or two on the trail.”
Samantha seriously doubted that she would accept the situation in a similar fashion. She was certain of it when their horse wrangler rode toward them where they waited. The bony-faced Dick Brewster was leading the two mounts he had cut out of his remuda for their use. One of them was a big, handsome roan, the other a dainty mare. Both were already saddled.
Dick wore his usual carefree grin when he reached them and dismounted. “This here is Dolly,” he introduced Samantha to the mare. “Don’t worry, Sam, she’s as gentle as she looks. She won’t give you any trouble.”
“You ready?” Roark asked her quietly.
The morning air had a sharp bite to it, but Samantha’s hands were perspiring. Nerves, of course. She wore a lady’s low-crowned Stetson tied under her chin. She’d left it hanging down over the single thick braid that swung from the back of her head. But now, catching the brim in her hand, she pulled the hat forward and settled it firmly in place at a jaunty angle. A gesture of determination. She hoped.
“Ready,” she said.
“Want a boost up?”
Shaking her head, Samantha placed her foot in the stirrup, gripped the saddle horn, and swung her leg up and over the mare’s back. To her relief, Dolly accepted her presence without an objection. She prayed that all those detestable lessons of her childhood wouldn’t desert her as she gathered the reins loosely in her hand and tried to act as if she knew what she was doing.
“Looking good,” Roark congratulated her.
She watched him mount his own horse with an ease she could never duplicate. Whatever
