Alice Sharpe - Westin's Wyoming

He put a hand over hers as it rested against his flat stomach. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but I have to admit your story about what happened in Seattle worries me.”

“It worried the general, too, but he wouldn’t discuss it. Will you?”

“It sounds like a setup.”

“Excuse me?” she said, and this time her gaze darted behind them. She hadn’t realized until that moment how the car had provided a safety net at her back and now that it was gone, she felt naked.

“The missing driver, the sudden offer of a ride, the knot of threatening men, the attack on your bodyguard, a new man hired—it sounds like a setup with one express goal—get rid of Claude. How well do you know this man, Vaughn?”

“Not very well.”

He squeezed her hand with his. She’d felt his strength when he helped her mount the horse; she felt it in his body now when he shifted his weight with the ride. Power. But not the overbearing affectations of the general. No, something more subtle and quiet and substantial.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” he added. “And on you.”

“Oh, please, not another eye. There are already so many!”

“It’s not just you,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean for the time being I’m responsible for everything that happens on this ranch. I want to hand it back to Cody and Adam and my dad in one piece and that means no trouble.”

“Then you don’t normally live here?”

“No.”

“Do you have a ranch somewhere else? Is someone taking care of that while you are here? A wife, perhaps?” The pinto picked up his pace as the road ascended and the distant roof of a building came into sight. Just like the horses at home in Chatioux, this one apparently knew when the stable was close by.

“Why, Princess,” Pierce said, flashing a grin over his shoulder, “is that your way of finding out if I’m single?”

She’d been thinking more along the lines of establishing his identity. For some reason, it seemed unlikely an assassin would claim a family.

Wait. Did she really think this was some kind of setup? If she had, wouldn’t she have insisted the car stay behind them? Trust your instincts, Analise, her father had said on more than one occasion. Sometimes that’s all the armor you’ll have…

“You’re wearing gloves,” she said evenly. “A woman likes to know these things.”

“So does a man,” he said without turning.

“I’m about to become engaged.”

“That’s too bad.”

“And you?”

“I’m not engaged or married or involved with anyone at the moment.”

“But you have been?”

“All those things at one time or another,” he said and there was a tone to his voice that added, Once was enough.

“So if you aren’t a rancher, what are you?”

“I’m part owner of a sort of security outfit,” he said, but there’d been a brief pause before his answer.

“Are you like a policeman?”

“Not really. We help businesses track down inner-corporate ne’er-do-wells.”

“I see.”

“You do?”

“Like industrial espionage,” she said.

“Yes. My partner tends to take the computer angle. I get more hands-on.”

Analise looked ahead and caught sight of a huge log house. Shaped like an inverted V with wings, it appeared to rise to three stories in the middle with tall glass windows. Slender, graceful white-barked trees, their branches currently bare, cradled the upper stories. The long walkway leading to the front was built of rock. A partial roof supported by huge peeled logs covered the end closest to the house. Additional structures could be glimpsed fanning out at the back and there appeared to be a small pond, frozen over, that surrounded the patio on the north end.

When they’d flown overhead, she’d seen long barns with red roofs she supposed held feed and others that must house large equipment. The fields had been dotted with hundreds of black cows, so stark against the winter ground. Add rolling hillsides, millions of evergreen trees and miles of fences and the overall impression was of prosperity.

“You must have enjoyed growing up here,” she said, leaning forward to peer over his shoulder and unconsciously inhaling the clean male scent of his skin. Coming from the privileged life she’d led, admiring a lifestyle wasn’t something she had occasion to do often. But there was a sense of freedom and openness about the place that was foreign to her—and appealing.

For a second she wished she was here alone with Pierce. Just the two of them riding this horse. He was a stranger—he’d never even heard of her before today, he had no expectations, no preconceived ideas of what she was supposed to be.

In fact, if she was honest, she would admit the thought of being alone with a strong, attractive man whose only interest in her was fleeting and trivial was a real turn-on. He wasn’t the kind of man she could ever be with and that was exciting, too.

“The house is bigger now than it used to be. Cody did some serious remodeling before he married Cassie.”

“Is she here now or is she away with him?”

“Neither. The marriage didn’t last, she ran off, á la my mother.”

Analise was willing to bet his casual tone covered some pretty intense undercurrents. “And your other brother, Adam?”

“Off hiking. If you mean is he married, the answer is no. He’s waiting for some nice, shy farm girl to wander into his life.” He turned in the saddle as he reined the horse to a halt and added, “I’d like to talk to you about that photo you mentioned.”

“I’d like to talk to you, too,” she said, nerves flaring again. How much should she tell him? She’d been directed to divulge as little as possible. That had seemed doable when she spoke with Pierce’s brother on the phone months before. With this man?

The key would be saying enough to garner his help without giving anything away…?.

Pierce looked over his shoulder again. “I’m assuming the photo ties into that ‘important’ reason for your visit,” he added.

“Yes,” she said. “I tried to tell you earlier—”

“As we rode, I know. But I want to look you in the eyes when you talk.”

“Why? Do you think I would lie?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what—”

“Words aren’t the only way a person speaks,” he said, “and sometimes the way something isn’t said is pretty informative.”

She blinked a few times as she thought about that statement. “It may be hard to get time alone again,” she warned as he stopped the horse next to the walkway.

“I’ll figure it out.” He got off the horse, stepped onto the walkway and reached up to help her dismount. The next thing she knew, she was sliding down his firm body, his strong hands gripping her waist, his breath warm where it touched her bare skin. Her feet hit the rocks a second later and she looked up at him, peered into the depths of his eyes, and felt a shock as something almost tangible passed between them.

And in that moment she knew she could trust him with her concerns. Not everything, of course, and certainly not with her heart.

What an odd thing to think.

“Princess? You are all right?” the general called, and she and Pierce both turned to find the older man marching toward them, moving faster than normal.

General Kaare was old-school. Royals should be admired but never touched by a mere mortal like Pierce Westin.

Ignoring his question, she looked around the open meadow. “Where’s Toby?”

“I am told he is out in the barn with the cowboys. Your maid is inside getting your rooms ready for occupancy. Mr. Vaughn was cold—I believe he’s inside by the fireplace being attended by the staff. Come now, come inside.” The general’s eyes lingered on Pierce’s hands which still encircled her waist.