Backlash Tender Trap Aftermath - Lisa Jackson Page 0,97
right. You’re not into ranching, are you?”
“Never have been.”
“Neither was Denver. He changed,” she flung out, hoping to wound him a little, though any hope she had that Colton had mellowed over the years died when she noticed the hard angle of his jaw.
“I won’t.” His eyes were steely gray as he scrutinized her. She saw the room as he did—peeling paint and scratched counters, worn, overwaxed flooring, blackened kettles hanging from dusty ceiling beams. His eyes were restless, and there was a wariness about him, a hard edge she didn’t remember.
“Why’re you here? Why not your brother?” she finally asked.
“Denver and his wife are in Los Angeles.”
She remembered now. In her work as a veterinarian, she’d overheard snatches of conversation at the surrounding ranches. Denver and Tessa would be away for another few weeks. “And you’re stuck with the ranch,” she taunted, unable to resist goading Colton. “So how did you manage to lose the most valuable horse on the spread?”
“I didn’t lose anything. He was stolen.”
Finally she understood why he was sitting in the middle of the Aldridge kitchen, his expression hard with unnamed accusations, his bearded chin jutted in fury.
Her voice, when she found it, was barely a whisper. “You’re not here to suggest that Dad had something to do with Black Magic’s disappearance, are you? Because if you are, you can just haul your self-righteous backside out of here right now!”
He didn’t move.
Cassie advanced on him. “Dad would never—”
“He’s made threats.”
Her lips twisted. “That was a long time ago, Colton.”
“Feuds have a way of smoldering—then flaring when you least expect them.”
“Not this one!” She poked a finger at his chest. Her skin collided with rock-hard denim-clad muscles. “You’d better leave. Now! Just get in your truck or Jeep or car or whatever it is you’ve got parked outside and take off, before I decide to start the feud all over again by strangling you!”
“Strong words, Cass,” he chided.
“Strong accusations, Colt.”
He eyed her speculatively. “You’ve changed.”
“Thank God.”
His gaze lowered to the hollow of her breasts displayed all too vividly by her gaping robe. “But in some respects, you’re still the same—”
“Get out, Colton.”
“Not until I talk to Ivan,” he said with infuriating calm.
“He may not be back tonight.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“You can’t.”
Colton didn’t budge.
Emotions, old and new, roiled deep within Cassie. She hated him—hated the very sight of him. Or at least that’s what she’d been telling herself for eight years. “Dad doesn’t want you here—don’t you remember?”
His eyes narrowed. “How could I forget?”
“Then take a hike and do it fast! Or I’ll call the sheriff’s office.”
“Go ahead.” With a jaded half grin, he motioned toward the phone. “I know a deputy there, Mark Gowan. You’ve probably heard of him.”
She had. Mark was one of the best the sheriff’s department employed.
“Go ahead. Call him. When Gowan gets here, I’ll explain about Black Magic and the fact that the fence was cut—the fence between your property and mine. Then I’ll repeat every threat Ivan’s made against the McLeans to the good sheriff!”
Cassie blanched.
“And if that isn’t good enough, I’ll tell my tale to the local press—I’ve got connections, you know. Friends in high places. It comes with the territory.”
“You bastard!”
He winced a little.
“You wouldn’t!” she whispered, grasping at straws. “You’d look like a fool!”
“And your father would look like a criminal,” he growled.
He was bluffing! She knew it. He couldn’t risk another scandal with the McLean name. Not after the last one—when John McLean had seduced Cassie’s mother! She reached for the phone, but he caught her wrist. The receiver clattered against the wall. “This would be a whole lot easier, you know, if you let me take a look around myself.”
His fingers were hot and hard against her flesh. “Dad’s never stolen anything in his life!”
“So prove it.”
She glared at him indignantly. Why bother explaining? The stern set of Colton’s jaw told her he’d already tried and convicted her father, just as he had her, years before. “Let go of me, Colton.”
He didn’t.
She tried a new tack. “This happened before—right? Last year. I heard it from Milly Samms, Denver’s housekeeper. The horse was missing, then just showed up. This is probably the same kind of mistake.”
“This is no mistake, Cassie. Someone took Black Magic. I want to know who.” His grip tightened, the warm pads of his fingers playing havoc with her pulse. She tried yanking her hand from his, but he wouldn’t let go. “Come on, Cassie. Here’s your chance to prove me wrong.”