Rita Herron - The Man From Falcon Ridge

“Have you decided where you want to begin?”

Rattled by his gruff voice and the magnitude of his masculinity, she shook her head. “There’s so much to do, I’m not sure where to start.”

“I’d suggest the bathrooms, plumbing probably needs checking.”

She sipped her coffee. “Right. They just restored the power in time for coffee.”

He nodded. “Do you always get out this early?”

She tensed, then realized he was simply making conversation. “I couldn’t resist a morning walk. It’s so beautiful here.”

“Yes, it is.” His gaze roved over her, and she hugged her coffee mug, trying to ignore the tingling sensation his heated gaze evoked.

As if he sensed the heat, and didn’t like it, either, he cut his gaze to the sky where a hawk swooped low. His expression changed, grew more intense, yet more peaceful at the same time.

Hailey swallowed, wondering at his thoughts. Then Rex’s gaze met hers, and another unnerving ripple of desire spread through her. She wanted him to touch her. To hold her. To make her nightmares go away.

Crazy. No man could do that.

Completely baffled by her reaction, she turned abruptly. “All right, start with the plumbing. I’ll tackle cleaning up the rooms. Then we’ll talk about where we go from there.”

He gave her a clipped nod, then followed. Hailey snuggled inside her coat, reminding herself to keep her distance. She had no idea what Rex would want with a woman like her. But they were alone in the woods, and he was stronger than her.

No one knew better than she did what a deadly combination the two could be.

HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN Hailey was dangerous.

Thad Jordan examined the stitches around his eye, frowning at the discolored skin. He was going to have a scar. And all because of that damn woman.

Hailey would pay for what she’d done to him.

“Sir, are you all right?”

His secretary’s voice drifted from the doorway. As usual, she sounded meek and mild, irritating him. The opposite of Hailey. She had looked small and fragile, but he’d sensed an untapped passion below the surface. She’d proven herself to be tough and spunky.

Too spunky for her own good it had turned out.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just bring me my coffee. And make it hot this time.”

She nodded and slithered away to fetch it for him, bringing a grin to his face. At least she rushed to his beck and call when he barked—the way a woman should.

Before he finished with Hailey, she’d learn that lesson, too.

He picked up the phone and dialed the private investigator he kept on retainer.

“Carl Wormer here.”

“Wormer, this is Jordan. I need your help.”

“What is it this time? A case you want me to work on?”

“No.” Thad ran his finger over the emblem on his signet ring. “This one is personal.”

“Personal?”

“Yes. I need you to find Hailey Hitchcock.”

“And then what?”

“Just let me know where she is.” A chuckle built in his throat as he envisioned what he’d do to her. That pretty pale neck, those big brown eyes—he’d see her on her knees begging for her life before it was over.

And then, only then, would he decide her final punishment.

The next two days as Hailey cleaned the house, she discovered a few nice antiques in the parlor, an iron bed in the master bedroom and a Chippendale sofa in the sitting room. The claw-foot dining-room table also added an ambience to the dreary interior. Painting the rooms would definitely spark new life to the inside.

But painting would keep Rex Falcon around longer, which was both a blessing and a curse. Rex distracted her from the fact that Thad might be looking for her, and kept her from dwelling on the fact that people had died in the house.

But his presence also unnerved her on a sexual level.

Not that he’d made any kind of advance toward her. But occasionally she sensed him watching her from a distance. Studying her as if he possessed a keen sight that could see inside her.

Another reason she’d maintained her distance. Her secrets would stay safely hidden.

Unless Thad decided to look for her.

His parting words echoed in her head, I’ll never let you go, Hailey. You’re mine forever.

Fighting the fear threatening to consume her, she headed up to shower before she drove to town for supplies. Then she’d meet the owners of the bed-and-breakfast and ask them to post an advertisement for her business on their bulletin board.

As soon as she undressed, the cool air inside the house brushed her nerve endings. It was almost as if someone was in the room with her. A ghost maybe?

No, that was ridiculous. Shaking off her foolishness, she climbed into the shower. The warm water soothed her, but when she closed her eyes, fingers of tension coiled inside her. She could almost feel Rex’s heated gaze linger over her naked body. His hands trailing down her damp breasts. His lips pressing along her sensitive skin, loving her.

She jerked her eyes open. She’d never lusted for a man before, especially like this. Not even Thad, who she’d actually considered sleeping with, and he’d appeared to be charming, educated and a professional. So why was she fantasizing about Rex Falcon, a mysterious, dangerous man she’d only met?

The isolation—that was the only explanation.

The floor squeaked above her and she froze. The attic. Were there squirrels or raccoons inside? Or could someone have climbed in there to hide? A homeless person or stranded hiker might want refuge from the elements in the dead of winter. But she hadn’t seen signs of anyone in the house when she’d first arrived.

She slipped on her terry-cloth robe and padded to the door, eased it open and listened. Another squeak. Rex?

No, Rex was working in the first-floor bathroom.

Taking a deep breath, she tiptoed down the hall, then unlocked the door to the staircase. The old-fashioned house had very poor lighting, and darkness shrouded the narrow spiral stairway, the scent of musk and some pungent odor she didn’t recognize stifling. Maybe an animal had gotten inside. A hawk or vulture or even a bat.

Holding her breath, she started up the stairs, but darkness trapped her. She clutched the stair rail, unable to make her feet move. Panic overtook her, and her vision clouded.

She was a little girl. Alone. Scared.

Someone pushed her, shoved her forward. She was terrified, clutching her stomach. A harsh hand gripped hers and dragged her anyway. Her knees hit the steps, and she cried, but he jerked her on, blood trickling down her legs. A sob welled in her throat. Her throat clogged. A screeching sound echoed from above.

He flung her inside the room and shut the door, pitching her into the cavern.

DAMMIT. REX HAD TRIED to search the attic while Hailey showered, but now she was coming upstairs to find him. He fumbled for an excuse as he closed the trunk of memorabilia he’d been scrounging through. So far, he’d found nothing.

Deciding on his story, he headed down the steps.

A pang of concern hit him when he saw Hailey. She was frozen on the staircase, her hand clutching the rail in a white-knuckled grip, her face deathly pale.

His brain ordered him not to get involved, but instincts forced reason aside. “Hailey?” He lowered his voice to the soft, crooning pitch he used with the hawks. “What’s wrong?”

She startled, her eyes drifting back into focus. “Rex?”

He nodded. “Are you all right? Did something happen?”

“I…I don’t know.”

He pried her icy hand from the rail and led her away from the entry. Her frightened eyes trapped him in their clutches. “What’s wrong?”

She tugged at the top of her robe, looking confused. His gaze fell to the opening, tempting him, but purple bruises marred the creamy skin of her neck. Anger bolted through him, along with protective instincts. She reminded him of one of the injured birds that had been battered by the hypocrisies of mankind.