Brenda Jackson - The Westmoreland Legacy - The Rancher Returns (The Westmoreland Legacy) / His Secret Son (The Westmoreland Legacy) / An Honourable Seduction (The Westmoreland Legacy)

She all but stomped her foot in frustration. “And I’ve told you that won’t happen. What part of that don’t you understand?”

“This part,” he said, brushing his finger across her cheek. She couldn’t downplay her sharp intake of breath or the way her body shuddered beneath his touch. “You do something to me and I do something to you,” he continued. “We do things to each other. We can only hold out for so long.”

She tilted her lips stubbornly. “I will fight you on that with my last breath.”

“And I suggest you save that breath for that explosive orgasm you’re going to have.”

Layla opened her mouth to blast out a resounding retort but then she closed it without responding. What was the use of arguing with him about something she knew for a fact wouldn’t be happening, no matter what he thought? So what if his touch warmed her to the core? She would put him out of her mind. She had more important things to be concerned with. Like who’d removed her marker and why. No matter what Gavin might assume, she was not imagining things.

“My marker was removed, Gavin.”

He rolled his eyes. “We’re back to that again?”

“Yes. The dig is why I’m here. Why I crazily agreed to your deal. If you didn’t remove the marker, then who did?”

* * *

Gavin drew in a deep breath, trying to hold his aggravation and frustration at bay. He knew for certain she was not incompetent. So someone had removed the marker like she claimed.

“Here, hold this,” he said, handing Flipper’s camera to her. He then began walking, studying the ground. He slowed when he saw footprints he knew weren’t hers or his. He crouched down and pressed his finger to one, touching the indention in the earth. It was cold. The tracks looked fresh, as if they hadn’t been made any more than forty-eight hours ago. Whose prints were they? One of his men? Possibly, but for some reason he doubted it. All his men had been working in the north and west pastures for the past few days. None had any reason to come to the south pasture.

It appeared more weight had been placed on the left leg as that impression was deeper. He also noted the sole of the right shoe appeared more worn than the left.

He stood and backtracked to where Layla said she’d parked her vehicle when she’d come out here. He walked, looking down and around the entire time. When he’d gone about thirty feet he stopped. Crouching down again he studied the earth and that’s when he saw the small plug where the marker had been. He glanced to the right and the left, studying the ground. Again he saw footprints. The same ones.

He stood and slowly walked back to Layla. Without saying anything, he took the camera out of her hand. “Thanks.”

She raised a brow. “Well?”

She hadn’t asked what he’d been doing. She was smart enough to figure things out. He was using his skill as a SEAL to determine if there was proof that the marker had been removed.

He met her inquisitive expression. “I saw footprints. I also saw where the marker had been. You’re right. The marker was removed.”

“Why? By whom?”

“Don’t know, Layla.” He honestly didn’t have a clue. The Silver Spurs was private property. And although there were numerous ways to get on the property, he couldn’t imagine anyone having a reason to come to this particular area. The one thing he didn’t see was tire tracks. But the person could have parked elsewhere and walked.

“I planned on using this camera to scan the area,” he said. “I suggest you make a list of anyone who might have a reason for wanting you not to succeed in your dig. And make sure you take me off the list. I told you my position and I’m sticking to it.”

And without saying anything else, he walked off.

Eight

I told you my position and I’m sticking to it.

Later that day, Layla paced the floor. Gavin Blake was bullheaded, stubborn and full of himself. He was crazy if he actually thought he could get her to bend to his will. No way. No how. So why was she pacing the floor, wearing out both herself and her shoes?

She had watched him use that high-tech camera, but she hadn’t been impressed with his findings. Gavin agreed there was something buried in the area but he refused to consider it was Jesse James’s loot. To his way of thinking, since that area used to be a popular hunting spot, the camera had picked up nothing more than buried bullet shells.

Layla refused to believe her research was wrong. There was buried treasure somewhere in the south pasture, she was sure of it. And as far as who would not want to see her succeed in this project, that could be a number of people, including her parents. But she didn’t for one minute think they would go so far as to sabotage the dig site. They were hoping failing at this would make Layla realize she should pursue medical school, after all. Then there was her older colleague Dr. Clayburn and others at the university who felt she’d been too young and inexperienced for such an expensive project. Did the person who removed the marker actually think she wouldn’t have kept the coordinates and just re-marked it? That she would give up so easily?

She stopped pacing when she heard a knock on the door. The tightening in her stomach told her who it was. Why was Gavin here? She had spoken to Ms. Melody an hour or so ago when she’d called to invite Layla to dinner. Layla had regretfully declined, knowing she would not have been the best of company this evening. Besides, she needed distance from Gavin. Evidently he hadn’t taken the hint.

The knock on the door sounded again. There was no need to pretend she wasn’t there when Gavin knew she was. Crossing the room, she opened the door to find Gavin with a tray of food in his hand.

“After you told Gramma Mel you weren’t coming to dinner, she strongly suggested I bring you something. I believe she thinks I’m the reason you didn’t come to breakfast or dinner.”

Layla moved aside to let him in. Tray and all. Especially the tray. Everything was covered but the food smelled good. “I’ll let her know that’s not the case when I talk to her tomorrow.” No need for him to know he had been a factor in her decision.

“She might not be here. Not sure when she’s leaving, whether it’s tomorrow or the day after.”

Layla closed the door and followed him to the kitchen. “Leaving? Ms. Melody is going somewhere?”

“Yes, to a library convention in Cincinnati for a week. But I’m sure she won’t leave without saying goodbye. And if you expect me to take her place and make sure you don’t miss meals...that won’t be happening.”

She frowned. “I never asked your grandmother to cook for me, Gavin.”

He put the tray on the kitchen table and turned to her. “Don’t you think I know that?”

“Then why did you insinuate otherwise?”

“Did I?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, you did.”

“Then I apologize.” She couldn’t help noticing how his gaze roamed over her. “You changed clothes,” he said.

Was that disappointment she heard in his voice? Seeing his gaze had moved to her chest, she dropped her hands to her sides. “I showered.”

“I know. You smell good. And you look good in that dress. Nice legs.”

She would have appreciated the compliment if she wasn’t still so uptight about that marker being moved. “I want to go back out to the dig site tomorrow and look around, Gavin. This time I want to use my own detector.”

“If you’re still concerned about why the marker was moved, I might have a reason for that.”

She came into the kitchen, trying to ignore the way he was checking out her legs and the way her nipples responded to his blatant appraisal. “What reason is that?”