Heartbreaker Read online

  For just a moment she leaned against him, letting him support her with his hard strength. It was too tempting; when his arms were around her, she wanted to forget everything and shut the world out, as long as he was holding her. That kind of need frightened her, and she stiffened in his arms, then pulled free. She swiped her palms over her cheeks, wiping away the dampness, and stubbornly blinked back the remaining tears.

  His voice was quiet. “I thought you knew.”

  She threw him an incredulous look before turning away. What an opinion he had of her! She didn’t mind his thinking she was spoiled; her father had spoiled her, but mostly because he’d enjoyed doing it so much. Evidently John not only considered her a common whore, but a stupid one to boot.

  “Well, I didn’t. And whether I knew or not doesn’t change anything. I still owe you the money.”

  “We’ll see my lawyer tomorrow and have the deed drawn up, and that’ll take care of the damned debt. I’ll be here at nine sharp, so be ready. A crew of men will be here in the morning to take care of the fencing and get the hay out to the herd.”

  He wasn’t going to give in on that, and he was right; it was too much for her, at least right now. She couldn’t do it all simply because it was too much for one person to do. After she fattened up the beef cattle and sold them off, she’d have some capital to work with and might be able to hire someone part-time.

  “All right. But keep a record of how much I owe you. When I get this place back on its feet, I’ll repay every penny.” Her chin was high as she turned to face him, her green eyes remote and proud. This didn’t solve all her problems, but at least the cattle would be cared for. She still had to get the money to pay the bills, but that problem was hers alone.

  “Whatever you say, honey,” he drawled, putting his hands on her waist.

  She only had time for an indrawn breath before his mouth was on hers, as warm and hard as she remembered, his taste as heady as she remembered. His hands tightened on her waist and drew her to him; then his arms were around her, and the kiss deepened, his tongue sliding into her mouth. Hunger flared, fanned into instant life at his touch. She had always known that once she touched him, she wouldn’t be able to get enough of him.

  She softened, her body molding itself to him as she instinctively tried to get close enough to him to feed that burning hunger. She was weak where he was concerned, just as all women were. Her arms were clinging around his neck, and in the end it was he who broke the kiss and gently set her away from him.

  “I have work to get back to,” he growled, but his eyes were hot and held dark promises. “Be ready tomorrow.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Chapter Four

  TWO PICKUP TRUCKS came up the drive not long after sunrise, loaded with fencing supplies and five of John’s men. Michelle offered them all a cup of fresh coffee, which they politely refused, just as they refused her offer to show them around the ranch. John had probably given them orders that she wasn’t to do anything, and they were taking it seriously. People didn’t disobey Rafferty’s orders if they wanted to continue working for him, so she didn’t insist, but for the first time in weeks she found herself with nothing to do.

  She tried to think what she’d done with herself before, but years of her life were a blank. What had she done? How could she fill the hours now, if working on her own ranch was denied her?

  John drove up shortly before nine, but she had been ready for more than an hour and stepped out on the porch to meet him. He stopped on the steps, his dark eyes running over her in heated approval. “Nice,” he murmured just loud enough for her to hear. She looked the way she should always look, cool and elegant in a pale yellow silk surplice dress, fastened only by two white buttons at the waist. The shoulders were lightly padded, emphasizing the slimness of her body, and a white enamel peacock was pinned to her lapel. Her sunshine hair was sleeked back into a demure twist; oversized sunglasses shielded her eyes. He caught the tantalizing fragrance of some softly bewitching perfume, and his body began to heat. She was aristocratic and expensive from her head to her daintily shod feet; even her underwear would be silk, and he wanted to strip every stitch of it away from her, then stretch her out naked on his bed. Yes, this was exactly the way she should look.

  Michelle tucked her white clutch under her arm and walked with him to the car, immensely grateful for the sunglasses covering her eyes. John was a hard-working rancher, but when the occasion demanded he could dress as well as any Philadelphia lawyer. Any clothing looked good on his broad-shouldered, slim-hipped frame, but the severe gray suit he wore seemed to heighten his masculinity instead of restraining it. All hint of waviness had been brushed from his black hair. Instead of his usual pickup truck he was driving a dark gray two-seater Mercedes, a sleek beauty that made her think of the Porsche she had sold to raise money after her father had died.

  “You said your men were going to help me,” she said expressionlessly as he turned the car onto the highway several minutes later. “You didn’t say they were going to take over.”

  He’d put on sunglasses, too, because the morning sun was glaring, and the dark lenses hid the probing look he directed at her stiff profile. “They’re going to do the heavy work.”

  “After the fencing is repaired and the cattle are moved to the east pasture, I can handle things from there.”

  “What about dipping, castrating, branding, all the things that should’ve been done in the spring? You can’t handle that. You don’t have any horses, any men, and you sure as hell can’t rope and throw a young bull from that old truck you’ve got.”

  Her slender hands clenched in her lap. Why did he have to be so right? She couldn’t do any of those things, but neither could she be content as a useless ornament. “I know I can’t do those things by myself, but I can help.”

  “I’ll think about it,” he answered noncommittally, but he knew there was no way in hell he’d let her. What could she do? It was hard, dirty, smelly, bloody work. The only thing she was physically strong enough to do was brand calves, and he didn’t think she could stomach the smell or the frantic struggles of the terrified little animals.

  “It’s my ranch,” she reminded him, ice in her tone. “Either I help, or the deal’s off.”

  John didn’t say anything. There was no point in arguing. He simply wasn’t going to let her do it, and that was that. He’d handle her when the time came, but he didn’t expect much of a fight. When she saw what was involved, she wouldn’t want any part of it. Besides, she couldn’t possibly like the hard work she’d been doing; he figured she was just too proud to back down now.

  It was a long drive to Tampa, and half an hour passed without a word between them. Finally she said, “You used to make fun of my expensive little cars.”

  He knew she was referring to the sleek Mercedes, and he grunted. Personally, he preferred his pickup. When it came down to it, he was a cattle rancher and not much else, but he was damned good at what he did, and his tastes weren’t expensive. “Funny thing about bankers,” he said by way of explanation. “If they think you don’t need the money all that badly, they’re eager to loan it to you. Image counts. This thing is part of the image.”

  “And the members of your rotating harem prefer it, too, I bet,” she gibed. “Going out on the town lacks something when you do it in a pickup.”

  “I don’t know about that. Ever done it in a pickup?” he asked softly, and even through the dark glasses she could feel the impact of his glance.

  “I’m sure you have.”

  “Not since I was fifteen.” He chuckled, ignoring the biting coldness of her comment. “But a pickup never was your style, was it?”

  “No,” she murmured, leaning her head back. Some of her dates had driven fancy sports cars, some had driven souped-up Fords and Chevys, but it hadn’t made any difference what they’d driven, because she hadn’t made out with any of them. T