Michelle Celmer - The Millionaire's Club - Connor, Tom & Gavin - Round-the-Clock Temptation / Highly Compromised Position / A Most Shocking Revelation

“We need to talk about security for the house and the stables,” he said.

“What kind of security?”

“An alarm to start.”

She frowned up at him. “You really think that’s necessary?”

“I do. Clint Andover, another member of the Cattleman’s Club, is a security expert. I’d like to have him out to evaluate the property and tell you exactly what you would need.”

She took off her hat and drew a sleeve across her forehead. “An alarm sounds expensive.”

“I’m not going to lie to you. It probably will be.”

“Connor, I can’t—”

“Don’t worry Nita, we’ll figure something out.”

Up went the chin. “I’m not a charity case.”

“I’m not suggesting you are. I was thinking maybe you could set up some sort of deferred payment plan.”

Meaning, he could pay Clint and when Nita made payments to Clint, he would divert the money back to Connor. It was the only way they could make it work, because he knew she would never take money from him.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it. He lived a pretty simple life. Being in the Rangers meant active service, and missions all over the world at a moment’s notice. He could be gone for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. The less complicated his life, the better. No houseplants to water, no pets to board, no significant other left behind to wonder if he would return home in a pine box. And he’d grown so used to living that way, it was permanently ingrained in his personality. He had more money than he would ever spend sitting around gaining interest. It seemed a waste not to use it on something.

“I don’t like the idea of owing anyone money,” Nita said.

“At least let me call him and see what he has to say. It’s worth the safety of the people and the animals here. And it could be good for business.”

She looked up at him, squinting against the afternoon sun. Even with her eyes half-closed they were the brightest he’d ever seen. “How do you figure?”

“If you can advertise that you have a state-of-the-art security system, that would eliminate the threat of having the horses harmed. You could very well get back the business you lost.”

Nita shook her head, her mouth in a grim line.

“What’s the matter?”

“This is so wrong. Five years ago, we would have never even considered needing an alarm to keep the animals safe. It’s the Devlins doing this.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

Nothing he said, no argument he could make, would convince her otherwise. “At least try to keep an open mind until we get some proof.”

“And when is that going to happen? It feels like all we’re doing now is sitting around waiting for the next attack.”

“People are working on it.”

“The Cattleman’s Club,” she said, and he only looked at her.

“Should I make the call?”

She hesitated for a second, then shrugged. “What the heck. I guess it can’t hurt to hear what the man has to say.”

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. When Clint’s secretary answered, she told him Clint would be out of town a couple of days, but would get back to Connor as soon as possible.

He relayed the message to Nita. “I’ll let you know when he calls me.”

They continued toward the stable when Nita heard a car engine, and turned to see a dark BMW pulling up the driveway.

“Who is that?” Connor asked, stepping slightly in front of her, something she was sure he did automatically, from being in the military.

“That would be Gretchen Halifax.”

“ Gretchen Halifax? What does she want?”

It was pretty obvious Connor didn’t like the woman, not a big surprise considering she was running against his brother for mayor. “Probably to see her horse. We board him for her.”

“That bitch-on-wheels has a horse? What for?”

“How should I know? It’s business. She’s one of the few boarders I have who didn’t pull out after the feed was poisoned. I may not like her, either, but her money is as good as anyone else’s.”

Gretchen parked close to the house and got out of her car. She was dressed in a business suit and high-heeled pumps, and her hair was professionally sculpted into an indestructible shell. The woman reeked of old money. “Hello, Nita,” she called.

“Hello, Gretchen.” Nita walked over to meet her and noticed that Connor hung back, his Stetson pulled low. She took in Gretchen’s designer outfit. “Guess you’re not here to take Silver Dollar for a ride.”

Gretchen smiled that phony, politician’s smile of hers. The one that made Nita’s skin crawl. “Not this time. I just happened to be in the area and I wanted to come by to tell you how sorry I am that your father was hurt. Is he going to be all right?”

“He’ll be good as new in no time. Thanks for asking. Gretchen, have you met Mr. Thorne?”

Nita waved Connor over knowing that with his hat on Gretchen could easily mistake him for Jake, which, considering the fleeting look of distaste on her face, she had.

“Connor Thorne,” Nita added. “Jake’s brother.”

“What a pleasure.” The plastic smile slid into place and she held out a hand for him to shake.

With a slight hesitation, Connor shook it. “Ms. Halifax.”

When Gretchen turned to Nita, Connor wiped his hand on his pant leg.

“I’m not one to listen to rumors,” Gretchen said. “But I’ve heard you’ve fallen into hard times. Is there anything I can do to help?”

How about you throw on a pair of boots and muck a stall, Nita was tempted to say, but held her tongue. “We’re okay, Gretchen, thanks for asking.”

“I’ve always admired your family and their hard work. I’d even consider a partnership with you if it came down to it.”

Over my dead body, Nita thought, wondering what the woman could possibly gain by offering her help. Women like Gretchen Halifax didn’t do anything out of the goodness of their hearts. She used people for her own personal gain. Maybe by owning a farm she thought she would be closer to the community somehow. No matter the reason, it would be a cold day in hell when Nita let Gretchen weasel her way into the family business.

“Those are just rumors,” Nita assured her. “We’re doing fine.”

“I’m so glad to hear it. You take such good care of Silver Dollar.”

And how she knew that, Nita wasn’t sure. Gretchen rarely came to see the horse and had only ridden her once for a photo shoot. Nita figured she’d bought it as some sort of campaign ploy, part of her political image.

“She’s a sweet horse,” Nita said.

“When I’m mayor,” Gretchen said, casting Connor a challenging look, “I’ll pressure the sheriff to put an end to the Windcroft-Devlin feud. And with the new policies I’ll be enforcing, you’ll be eligible for tax breaks that will benefit your business.”

Blah, blah, blah. Nita resisted rolling her eyes. If Gretchen thought that little pitch was going to win her Nita’s vote, she was wasting her time. Nita didn’t have anything against the woman personally. She just had a distaste for phony, self-serving people in general.

“Thanks for stopping by, Gretchen.” As in, get lost.

“Remember, if there’s anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to call.” Gretchen picked her way across the gravel drive and got into her car, waving before she drove away.

“I feel like I need to go wash my hand,” Connor said from behind Nita.

“Why?” Nita teased, turning to him. “She give you cooties?”

He had a look of thorough disgust on his face. “Does she really think people fall for that fake nice routine?”

“I hear that Malcolm Durmorr is smitten with her.”