A Hero To Count On. Linda Turner

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A Hero To Count On - Linda Turner Mills & Boon Intrigue

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from offended, Buck only chuckled. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

      “Yeah, come on in,” John teased. “The water’s fine.”

      “No, thanks. I prefer to be footloose and fancy-free and only answer to me. The only reason I’m offering to pick up Katherine is because you all have plans. I don’t. But if you don’t want me to…”

      “Oh, no, it isn’t that,” Elizabeth assured him. “If you’re sure you don’t mind…and you won’t flirt with her…you would really be helping us out.”

      “Then it’s decided,” he said promptly. “All of you go do what you have to do and I’ll take care of Katherine. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she’s fine. Okay?”

      Elizabeth knew he wouldn’t deliberately hurt Katherine or make her feel uncomfortable. If he could make her laugh after all the tears she’d shed, then she would kiss him for it when she and John got back from the wedding.

      “Okay,” she sighed, relieved. “I’ve got a picture of her from Buck’s wedding that’s great. You can take it with you so you won’t have to ask every woman who steps off the plane if they’re Katherine.”

      “Damn,” he retorted, wicked mischief dancing in his eyes. “That was the part I was looking forward to the most.”

      Standing just past the security check at Willow Bend’s small regional airport, Hunter didn’t really need the picture that Elizabeth had loaned him to recognize her sister. After all, this was Willow Bend, for heaven’s sake, not Chicago. If there were more than a handful of passengers getting off the plane, he’d be damned surprised. And Katherine was British and had two sisters that were in the fashion industry. If she dressed as stylishly as Elizabeth, recognizing her wasn’t going to be a problem.

      But even as he assured himself he’d know her the second he saw her, his gaze once again dropped to the picture he’d looked at at least ten times in nearly as many minutes. She was cute. Great smile, heart-shaped face, dimples. And the mischief that danced in her big blue eyes would make more than one man stop and take a second look at her. She could, no doubt, be trouble with a capital T. And there was nothing he liked more than a woman he could get into trouble with.

      If you’re sure you don’t mind…and you won’t flirt with her…

      Elizabeth’s words echoed in his ears, along with his own. I’ll take care of Katherine. Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.

      Swallowing a groan, he wanted to kick himself. Idiot! What possessed him to say such a thing? He hadn’t even seen her picture yet. Not, he acknowledged ruefully, that he had any intention of making a serious play for the woman. She was extended family, of a sorts. Or she would be when her sister married his half brother. And he didn’t play around with women who were closely connected to friends or family. That only created hard feelings when the women discovered he wasn’t the marrying kind.

      So Katherine Wyatt was off-limits and had been before he’d even seen her picture. Damn. He could have had some fun with her. Instead he had to behave himself. Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.

      Grinning at the thought, he looked up as passengers started down the escalator that led to the baggage-claim area; and there was Katherine Wyatt, right in the middle of the pack. She’d been crying—that much was obvious—and the sparkle was gone from her eyes. In spite of that, all he could think was that her picture didn’t do her justice.

      How could a woman who looked as if she’d cried all the way across the Atlantic and halfway through the flight from New York look so pretty? She’d been on a plane for hours, but you wouldn’t know it to look at her. Her chestnut hair was a mass of long curls that were held back from her face with a blue-and-white polka-dot scarf, and the red T-shirt and white jeans that she wore didn’t have a single wrinkle. If her eyes were swollen from crying, that was the only crack in her armor. She stood tall, all five-foot-two of her, in wedge-soled sandals, and was the cutest handful of trouble he’d seen in a long time.

      “And she’s off-limits,” he muttered, swallowing a groan.

      Resigned, he pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and headed toward Katherine as she stepped off the escalator. Her attention on the signs that directed passengers to the baggage-claim area, she didn’t spare him a glance.

      Frowning, he couldn’t believe she was so unaware of her surroundings. Considering all the attacks against her family and the ranch over the past six months, she should have been on constant guard. Didn’t she know she was in danger? He’d have to talk to her about that on the way back to the ranch.

      Stepping forward to help her with the heavy carry-on bag she had slung over her shoulder, he said easily, “You must be Katherine. Here…let me help you with that.”

      Chapter 2

      Caught off guard, Katherine turned sharply, just in time to see a stranger reach for her bag. Alarmed, she wrapped protective fingers around the shoulder strap of her carry-on and took a quick step back. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, scowling.

      “Don’t get all spooked on me,” he said with a crooked grin as he once again reached for her bag. “I’m just trying to help—”

      Outraged, she knocked his hand away. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you’ve got two seconds to get away from me or I’m calling security!”

      Her threat should have sent him packing. Instead he only laughed. “C’mon, there’s no need for that. I’m harmless.”

      “Yeah, right,” she scoffed.

      She’d never seen a man who looked less harmless in her life. He was a bad boy—she could see it in his wicked, laughing green eyes—and she didn’t doubt for a second that he could melt a woman’s bones without ever touching her. She wanted nothing to do with him.

      Deliberately she turned her back on him. “I don’t need your help. Leave me alone.”

      “Okay, if that’s the way you want it. It’s ten miles to the ranch, but if you want to walk, far be it from me to stop you. Elizabeth’s going to kill me, but, hey, I tried.”

      “I don’t care—” she began, only to break off abruptly at the mention of her sister. Whirling, she studied him suspiciously. “How do you know Elizabeth? Who are you?”

      “Hunter Sinclair,” he retorted. When she just looked at him blankly, he explained, “I’m John’s brother. He and Elizabeth couldn’t make it, so I volunteered to pick you up, instead.”

      At his words, Katherine paled. “John doesn’t have a brother. And I just talked to my sister this morning, and she never once mentioned that she was sending anyone to pick me up. They sent you, didn’t they?”

      Confused, he frowned. “They? They who? Who are you talking about?”

      “The thugs who want the ranch,” she retorted. “Did you think I don’t know about what’s been going on just because I live in England? Elizabeth and Buck keep me posted on everything. They told me who they trust, and trust me, your name never came up. So get the hell away from me. If you lay so much as a finger on me, I’m going to scream my guts out and I won’t stop until somebody

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