licked her lips and tried not to let her shivers turn violent. “Well, not exactly, but I was just speaking to her about the ranch—off the record, of course.”
He took another step toward her and Juliet found her eyes frozen to his hard features: the square jaw, strong, dented chin and chiseled lips that were presently pressed into a tough, menacing line. This man wasn’t exactly handsome, she decided, but he was damned sexy. Dangerously so.
“Of course,” he said mockingly.
He might as well be touching her, she thought, as she felt his eyes sweep up and down her body. He’d certainly already undressed her with his visual assault.
“Is there anything wrong with talking about the legend of Sara Ketchum’s money?”
“Sara Ketchum just happened to be my grandmother. I don’t want her memory sullied by some tawdry story in the pages of the Fannin Review.”
She tried to look as innocent as possible. After all, she’d not gotten any sort of information out of Cook, and even if she had, Juliet wasn’t so sure she would use it. She’d already warned her editor that she didn’t like prying into people’s personal lives. For one thing, it caused incidents just like this.
“So you think that’s what I was doing?” she asked carefully. “Trying to dig up information for the newspaper?”
“What else?”
The woman didn’t answer, but there was really no need, Matt decided. She looked guilty as hell. Beautiful, but guilty.
She shrugged one bare, elegant shoulder and he realized with all the skin she was showing in that skimpy dress, she was probably freezing. His eyes skittered once again over the plunging neckline and exposed cleavage of her breasts, then purposely zeroed back on her face. She wasn’t dressed all that differently than many of the other female guests roaming around the ranch house, but she damned sure looked different, he thought. Her tall, voluptuous figure was enough to send a man’s blood pressure skyrocketing.
“Maybe I was just personally interested,” she suggested coolly.
Matt snorted. From the sound of her voice, she was from North Texas. She had that certain twang that separated her from the Southern folks of the state. And she wasn’t interested in his family; she was interested in her job.
“Where are you from?” he asked bluntly.
Her brows lifted. “Why, I live in Goliad.”
Goliad was only about twenty minutes to the east of the Sandbur. He slowly shook his head. “You’re not a native around here.”
“No. Actually, I’m from Dallas. I moved from there a few months ago when I came to work for the Fannin Review.”
“Then someone should have told you that the folks down here don’t appreciate anyone taking advantage of their hospitality.”
She sucked in an outraged breath. “That’s not—”
“Don’t bother to deny it, Miss Madsen. We both know what you were trying to do and I’m telling you flatly, right now, that there is no story here. And even if there were, I wouldn’t let you get anywhere near it. Understand?”
Her nostrils pinched together as she stared angrily at him. “I don’t really know what your position is on this ranch, but I’ve had just about enough of your pious attitude. I haven’t committed any crime here. According to a lot of folks in Goliad, it’s common knowledge that Nate and Sara Ketchum, the former owners of this ranch had a—well, let’s just call it a colorful relationship. And since Nate’s murder was never solved, it’s still of local interest.”
“That’s what you think,” he quipped.
“No, that’s what my editor thinks. He believes the whole issue would make a good story for the paper. I tried to deter him from the idea, but he insisted I ask as many questions as possible.” She shook her head in a regretful way. “I’m sorry. I was only trying to hang on to my job.”
He glanced away from her pained expression. “Hell of a way to do it.”
Juliet bristled all over again. Maybe in his eyes she had been in the wrong, but he could be a little more understanding. Somehow she figured this hard man didn’t know the meaning of the word.
“What would you know about needing a job?” she asked. “Looks to me like you were born into riches.”
Why was it so easy for outsiders to look around the Sandbur and think that the ranch simply made itself, he wondered. Outsiders could never imagine the long, back-breaking labor that was put into this estate to keep it one of the top cattle ranches in Texas. But then, he couldn’t expect this woman to understand. She’d probably spent most of her young life being educated in a private school in Dallas. He seriously doubted she’d ever had those manicured hands in a sink of dirty dishwater.
“You don’t exactly look like you’ve just stepped out of the ghetto, Miss Madsen. But as for me, I’ve worked for everything I own.”
Her chin lifted as she stared at him with angry disbelief. “And you think I haven’t?”
His expression turned mocking as his eyes roamed up and down her curvy figure. “I really couldn’t say.”
Anger propelled her closer and she jabbed a finger in the middle of his chest. “You don’t know anything about me. And being some sort of big chief around here doesn’t give you the right to be insulting!”
He caught the finger pressing into his chest, then clamped his hand tightly around hers. “Let’s not worry about what I am. Let’s concentrate on what you are,” he growled in a low voice. “You’ve come to my home under false pretenses—”
“That’s not true!” she interrupted hotly, her cheeks burning. “And you have to be the most—hateful bastard I’ve ever met!”
One corner of his lips sneered upward. “You think so? You think I’m hateful for trying to protect my family from vultures like you?”
“Vul-tt-ture!” she sputtered in outrage. Instant retaliation was the only thing on her mind as she lifted her free hand to slap his jaw.
Matt caught her wrist in midair and then he was gripping both her hands, making it impossible for her to pull away as she stared at him in mute fury.
“You shouldn’t have tried that, Miss Madsen,” he said in a cunningly smooth voice.
The glitter in his dark green eyes electrified Juliet. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe or move the slightest muscle, even when she saw his head descending toward hers.
“Let me go.”
The three words were breathed out in a voice so tiny he could barely hear it.
“Why? So you can try to slap me again?” he goaded.
The urge to kick his shin shot through her head, but she didn’t have time to carry through with the strike. Before she knew what was happening, he jerked her forward and the front of her body slammed into his.
The contact felt
