Bonnie Vanak - Navy Seal Protector

His mouth flattened as Dan leaned back. “You just returned, Nick. Why should I trust you won’t sell and run off?”

“The legal agreement. It will bind us both here. First, tell me why Silas had no money. He was never one to carry debt. What happened?”

His cousin didn’t meet his eyes. “Who knows? It’s expensive to run a ranch these days. If that’s all... I have to talk to Felicity about all this.”

Dan pushed away from the chair, clearly finished with the conversation. He left, but in a considerably better temper than when he’d first walked into the study.

Nick watched him leave, his mind clicking over the facts like a well-oiled machine. Now was not the time for emotions, and Dan’s were running high after the funeral.

He had savings. But not even close to sixty thousand dollars. And Dan and everyone else seemed loathe to provide any information about why the ranch had slid into such dire straits.

Tucking his phone away, Nick left the study to change his clothing. He took the letter, hoping to get answers from the one person he knew would tell the truth.

* * *

She knew he’d come knocking at her door someday. All the years since he’d been gone, Shelby kept telling herself Nick would return. Now he stood on the landing outside her apartment, a big man taking up half the front window Silas had installed when he’d renovated the place ten years ago.

Why did he have to do it when her eyes were swollen and red from crying, and her hair a frizzy mess?

He’s not here to seduce you, she warned herself. Shelby crumpled up the tissue and threw it in a wastebasket, then opened her front door.

Tall and leanly muscled, he wore a clean black T-shirt and blue jeans. Gone was the somber funeral attire. Somehow she liked this better. It was a clear reminder of the cocky man he’d been, the one who had almost coaxed her into sex all those years ago. A wicked-looking pistol was tucked into a holster at his leather belt.

He was carrying and the sight of the weapon comforted her a little. With all the vandalism at the ranch, it was good to have a man around who knew the business end of a pistol. Dan was hopeless when it came to guns and Felicity was too squeamish. Jake knew how to shoot, but he joked he was a lover, not a fighter.

Shelby’s hungry gaze traveled down from the flatness of his stomach and the muscles rippling beneath the tight T-shirt to the polished brass buckle with a bucking bronc on it. Her gaze traveled a little lower to the interesting bulge just below...

Did I just look at his crotch? Oh, stop it, Shel!

Fortunately, he didn’t appear to notice. Nick’s expression was all business. “Shelby, I’m sorry to bother you, but I need answers about the ranch.”

She stepped aside as he walked in. Typical Nick. Direct, no dancing around, but clearly stating his intentions.

Except when he kissed you, a little voice inside her head nagged.

With a desultory gesture toward the tiny living room, she perched on the wing chair that had been a real steal at a garage sale. Nick sat on the blue-and-white-striped sofa with the stain on the back that she’d hidden by pushing it against the wall.

He gazed around at the landscape paintings on the bright yellow walls and the vase of daisies she’d placed on a round table by the front window.

“Place looks real good, Shel. You’ve made it into a home.” His glance landed on the art easel and the board upon it, tucked into a corner. Nick pointed to the landscapes. “Did you paint those?”

She nodded, folding her arms across her chest. Painting had been a favorite pastime, but with the long hours she worked lately, it had to be set aside. Keeping her home mattered more.

A home she could easily lose, depending on his whims. “What do you want, Nick?”

He opened his palm, showing a piece of crumpled white stationery. “What’s happened at the Belle Creek that it’s losing so much money, Shel? Silas wants me to save it from foreclosure...or a sale to Beaufort.”

Honest, direct. Relief calmed a little of her jangling nerves. She took in the bleakness on his face, the firm set of his lips.

“Come into the kitchen and I’ll make us coffee.”

He squeezed into one of the two chairs in the postage-stamp kitchen, his big frame seeming to suck up all the space. Nick pushed a hank of dark blond hair away from his brow with an impatient gesture as she measured the grounds and started the coffee.

Too shaken by his nearness to sit, she leaned against the sink. “What exactly did Silas say in that letter?”

Nick shook his head. “Tell me what’s going on around here.”

“Same old Nick. Always your needs first before anyone else’s,” she countered.

He leaned forward, locking his intense brown gaze to hers. “No, Shel. I put your needs first ten years ago. ’Cause if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have walked out of here leaving you a virgin.”

Old hurts surfaced, needling her. “Maybe I needed to lose my virginity back then, hotshot. Did you ever think to ask?”

Intent flared on his face. “No need, darling. If I’d made love to you, I would have been inside you so deep that no matter who took you after that, the memory of me would always linger,” he said softly.

A furious heat crept up her chest, to her throat, warming her cheeks. Shelby hoped he’d think it was anger.

“Is this why you’re here, Nick? To taunt me with our past?”

Regret touched his face. “No. But I swore I would go to hell first before following through on what I wanted to do to you. Not what I had to do.”

As an apology, it sucked. Made him look noble and self-sacrificing while leaving her looking like a horny teenager eager to explore her newfound sexuality.

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore,” she said coolly. “The coals of that particular fire got stamped out long ago when you turned around and ran, never looking back.”

Now it was his turn for his cheeks to turn ruddy. Nick’s guilty gaze darted around the kitchen. Damn if he didn’t look like he did ten years ago, all adorable and contrite when he’d kissed her and confessed that he had condoms in his back pocket.

Condoms he’d never used with her.

She gestured to the paper. “What did Silas say to you?”

He shook his head, rubbed a hand over his chin. “It’s private. I need to know exactly why the Belle Creek is losing money. Miles and Mason said there was a break-in and Felicity’s jewelry was stolen right after Readalot died.”

Nick had been gone a long time. He didn’t know the troubles they faced. “I found Readalot in his stall. He was young, only eight, but he died during the night. The vet said it was natural causes. Maybe a heart attack. That was the first suspicious incident. He was very healthy. About two days later, someone broke into the house and stole Felicity’s jewelry. A couple of gold bracelets and her favorite sterling-and-emerald pin. Jonah Doyle and his men dusted, took notes, but found nothing.”

His gaze widened. “Jonah Doyle? He’s working for the sheriff?”

“He is the sheriff now. There have been other incidents as well, small things that are frustrating, but when you run a ranch, it all adds up. Fences broken, a horse trailer that was in perfect working order and suddenly had two flat tires. Stuff like that.”

Leaning back, Nick frowned. “Who is threatening the place? Why are almost all the rental stalls vacant? I did an inspection and the security system isn’t the greatest, but it works. So what’s going on?”

The coffee machine pinged, indicating it was ready. Shelby remained motionless, her heart hurting and her throat tight.

Nick lowered his voice, the deep, gravelly tone sexy and yet oddly soothing. “I want to make it right, Shel. I’m not back to hurt you, or anyone else. But I want answers. Now.”