Borrowing a Dream

Borrowing a Dream Denise A. Agnew Hard Shell Word Factory

Borrowing a Dream

Denise A. Agnew

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Denise A. Agnew

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© 2001, Denise A. Agnew Ebook ISBN: 0-7599-0000-0 ISBN: 0-7599-0106-6 Trade Paperback Published July 2001 Hard Shell Word Factory PO Box 161 Amherst Jct. WI 54407 [email protected] http://www.hardshell.com Cover art © 2001, Lee Emory All electronic rights reserved. All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatever to anyone bearing the same name or names. These characters are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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Dedication: As always, to my own hero, Terry. Acknowledgements: Thank you to Susan Tatley for her critique skills. To Bonnie Pierson and Gail L. Fiorini-Jenner for technical information related to police work and ranching. Thanks ladies!

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Chapter 1 ON A HIGH ridge obscured by scrub brush and a few scrawny trees, Shane O’Donnell knelt in the sandy soil and raised his binoculars. He could easily observe the young woman in the canyon below without her seeing him. “Damn it,” he hissed. From the progress she’d made at the site, she’d obviously been digging on his land for more than a day. Anger sprouted higher in him, built in his muscles until his grip on the binoculars tightened and he felt an increasing pressure in his chest. He took a deep breath and the tension eased. Shane had warned his Uncle Clement that if archaeologists dug on his ranch land, they’d soon nose around where they didn’t belong. Obviously, his uncle had hired the archaeological firm anyway and now the woman in the canyon had strayed from Uncle Clement’s land onto Shane’s adjoining property. He watched the woman for several minutes, noting the way she knelt by the half-meter deep test pit and carefully removed soil with her trowel. Degree by degree she lifted the dirt and deposited it into a large plastic bucket by her side. He should drive down there this minute and order her off his land. Instead he found his attention riveted in place. Something about the way she moved made him want to watch for a hellava lot longer than necessary. A single thick blonde braid poked through the open back of her dark baseball cap, and she wore a long sleeved navy shirt and faded, dirt smudged jeans that curved over her slim hips and legs.

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“Come on, turn around.” As soon as the words came out, he wondered if he’d lost his mind. He’d be down there in a few minutes and he could see what this pain in the neck archaeologist looked like. Makes me feel like a damned voyeur anyway. Without hesitation Shane lowered the binoculars and headed for his truck. HOT WIND BLEW dirt from the pit into Emma’s sunglasses, stinging her face. Impatiently, she moved back from the pit and sat down. Pulling off her gloves, she tossed them aside and removed her sunglasses. She sighed and rolled her shoulders in an attempt to ease the ache throbbing between her shoulder blades. She’d worked in the test pit since seven that morning. After a few soft months in the lab it was easy to forget what strenuous work excavation could be. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, and she wished she’d taken the plunge and chopped off some of her hair for the summer. Emma glanced at her watch. Already nine o’clock and she’d barely scratched the surface of what her boss, Grant Wilder, had accomplished in the last three days. Too bad about his stomach bothering him; they would have had this dig completed in no time today if he’d worked alongside her. A screech from high above startled her. She pushed her baseball cap back further on her head and glanced into the sky, squinting as the sun obscured her view. A hawk circled above, soaring as it called. The sun flamebaked the southwest Colorado landscape like a torch, searing the earth and scorching her in the process. Suddenly Emma knew someone watched her.

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With the extra sense of prey targeted by a carnivore, her flesh prickled as if the hawk waited for her to expire in the rapidly rising heat. Yeah, Emma. It’s a hawk, not a buzzard. After putting her sunglasses back on, she scanned both sides of the canyon. She stared at the brush and the ponderosa pines that lined either side of the mountain ridges. She spotted nothing. She shrugged. Get a grip. Work, don’t worry. Her father’s strident voice entered her memory, urging her to get the lead out. She frowned and sighed. Her father’s strenuous work ethic dictated that no matter how hard she toiled it would never be enough. Nothing was ever good enough for Harmon Baker. Resolutely she shoved thoughts of her father to the back of her mind. Absorbing the clean scent of mountain air invigorated her, and notwithstanding the intense heat, she enjoyed herself. Everything on this dig would go well. Unless, of course, that rancher got his underwear in a twist and told her to get the hell out of Dodge. Clement O’Donnell had warned her his nephew wasn’t exactly the friendly type. She envisioned a tobaccochewing, slang-using, swearing, animal-smelling man who rode a big horse and used expressions like ‘darlin or honey.’ “Darlin’ my butt,” she muttered. She may have grown up in the city but she refused to be intimidated by men with backward ideas. Emma reached for her canteen and unscrewed the cap for a long swig of cool water. Somewhat revived, she decided to tackle the pit once again, and stepped into it, settling down with her legs crossed. She groaned and shifted her legs, wishing for once she’d been born short. The sample trench was narrow and

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her uncomfortable position almost precluded her from leaning forward to use the trowel. What I wouldn’t do for a couple of knee pads right now. The sound of a vehicle caught her attention. A truck barreled down the dirt road, kicking up dust. Whoever was behind the wheel of the rapidly approaching piece of metal drove too damn fast. Finally the rusted and dented lime green truck roared to a stop. A cloud of choking dust floated into the air. Emma grimaced, waving her hand in front of her face and squinting to keep the dirt out of her eyes. Filthy windows obscured her view of all but a shadowy man in a cowboy hat. The driver’s side door swung open, rusty hinges creaking in agony. Out stepped one very tall, very large, very angry hombre. Emma’s mouth dropped open slightly as she took her first good look at the man striding toward her. His steps ate up the ground rapidly as he moved. She waved and smiled, hoping to defuse whatever had lit this guy’s fire. “Hi.” When he didn’t answer a tingle of worry and annoyance combined in her psyche. Was this the nephew Clement O’Donnell had warned her about? What was his name again? Steve? Shannon? She squinted, but she couldn’t see his face clearly under the brim of his cowboy hat. Cowboys. They were all lean, mean, with silly drawls and skinny butts. But, on closer inspection, Emma realized this man could never be described as skinny. Nope. Powerful, yes. Strong, absolutely. Hell, he didn’t wear one of those western shirts with the bolo tie. Instead he sported a cropped royal blue muscle shirt made of a fine mesh with the number ten emblazoned in white. The shirt showed to advantage the

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powerful sinew in his arms and emphasized his broad shoulders and the lean, washboard ripple of stomach muscles. Her gaze traveled past that impressive display of masculinity and noted his faded jeans molded his lean hips with a wicked fit. He stopped at the edge of the trench, and for a moment she thought he would step right in. Instead he planted his feet slightly apart and rested his big hands on his hips. He tipped his hat up with a push of his thumb and black hair spilled onto his forehead. Her breath caught in her throat and she coughed as she took in dust. Lord, his body had been made for sin. The slightly crooked nose and chiseled jaw rough with a five o’clock shadow belonged in the movies. Emma cataloged his attributes into little compartments, using her archaeologist’s analytical mind to decide that gorgeous would not slip into her vocabulary describing this man. Animal magnetism, maybe. Mesmerizing, perhaps. No way would she say gorgeous. His nicely carved mouth thinned and his eyes narrowed into an intense scrutiny. The bottom dropped out of her stomach. Okay, on second thought, gorgeous might apply. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” His voice held a deep, husky quality that reminded her of something smoky, sexy, and sinful. Unfortunately his tone was overlaid by unmistakable anger. “Watch out, Mel Gibson,” she said softly. “What?” he asked, the sound quiet and tinged with danger.

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He scowled and then she realized what she’d said out loud. Maybe if she was lucky she could claim temporary insanity or heat stroke. If she were really lucky he’d mistake the red in her cheeks for sunburn. She wondered if he had a skinny butt. Emma stood slowly, afraid if she moved quickly he’d pounce like a mountain lion or a bear. She stepped out of the pit. No need for him to have the extra height advantage over her. As she stood next to him, however, even her five ten frame was small in comparison to this man’s body. Smiling as she looked up at him, she extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Emma Baker of Grant Wilder Archaeology.” He ignored her hand. His blue eyes targeted her with laser intensity and the darkness of thick lashes barely softened clear anger. “I know who you are.” She lowered her hand and irritation flared in her gut. He may not look like a stereotypical cowboy, but he was rude. “Are you Clement O’Donnell’s nephew?” she asked, keeping her voice modulated so he wouldn’t detect that he’d hit a live wire. “It doesn’t matter who I am, Miss Baker. You’re on my land and you’re trespassing.” He crossed his arms and she noted the ripple in his biceps with his movement, the interplay of muscles intriguing her despite her exasperation. Deliberately she shoved away her physical reaction to him. “As I understand it, I have every right to be here. If you want to see the papers for the contract, I have them

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right here in my backpack,” she said. Emma dared to look into his eyes. His gaze surveyed her with an intensity she’d never experienced before, as if he wanted to understand everything about her in a millisecond. Suddenly her vulnerability made her stiffen with apprehension. A woman alone in this canyon, with no other people within a couple of miles, had to be stupid not to be careful. “That won’t be necessary,” he said, the soft tone barely gentling the stiffness in his posture, and the ready-tospring look in his tightly-coiled muscles. “My uncle might have okayed your presence on his land, but that piece of paper doesn’t apply to my property.” She wished she’d borrowed Grant’s gun. He carried the weapon when they worked in areas where rattlesnakes sometimes slithered by. But she never thought she’d need the weapon because rattlesnakes didn’t frequent this mountainous area. At least not the type with legs. As if sensing her discomfort and wanting to take advantage of it, he stepped forward slightly and glared. “My uncle’s property ends at those rocks over there.” He pointed back to a few yards away from her test pit and she noted the small rock pile about a foot high. “Your dig should have started back there.” She’d noticed the cairn but hadn’t realized its significance. “Don’t you usually put up fence to delineate property lines, Mr. O’Donnell? I’d hardly call a pile of rocks a clear indicator of where your land starts. And why didn’t your uncle tell Grant and me where his land ends and your land begins?”

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He passed his large tanned hand over his jaw and sighed. A small muscle twitched in his cheek, as if he was grinding his teeth. “Look, I haven’t got time for this. I’ve got work to do back at the house.” He looked so weary that for a moment she caught herself feeling sympathy for him. He could have a bad day or not; she wouldn’t allow him to ruin her day. Maybe a little humor would lighten up this large man’s attitude a smidgen. Emma smiled. “Go ahead. I’m not stopping you. If I’m lucky I’ll make considerable progress on this trench today. The quicker I finish here, the faster I’m out of your hair.” He didn’t smile. If anything, his expression hardened, turning rock solid with disdain. His gaze snapped to hers with an intensity she felt deep within her as her stomach did a strange flip flop. “You don’t seem to understand what I’m saying. I don’t want you on this land.” She gestured to the pit. “But the survey Grant did last week turned up a variety of objects in this area that point to a major historical site. It’s very possible we could be on the land where Sadie Cutley’s cabin once stood.” He closed the remaining inches between them until he stood so close they almost touched. “I don’t give a damn whether he found Noah’s Ark. I want you off my land and that’s the last word.” Determined to stand her ground, she didn’t flinch. Instead she tilted her head back and looked at him. Smiling, she decided to pour honey over the vinegar. “You don’t have to be nasty about it. All of this could be solved—” He moved one big hand and for a shocking, fearful second she thought he would grab or hit her and she stepped back. Instead he removed his hat with a quick sweep of his hand, shoving his hand through the messy

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abandon of his hair. Waves of hair tumbled about his head, the top and sides long enough to reach a little farther than collar length. Rather than detracting from his looks, the disarray enhanced his handsome features. “Either you fill up this hole in the ground and get back on my uncle’s boundaries, or I’ll get the shovel out of my truck and do it myself,” he said, his voice a deep whisper that caressed her ears like a threat. Her nerves skittered as she assessed his intentions. If she didn’t leave his land right now, would he resort to violence? In her mind she could hear her father’s voice rebuking her. You’re too impulsive. One day you’ll regret it. This could be the day. Perspiration dotted the man’s upper lip. She gazed at it in fascination. Then she looked back into his eyes. Nothing lenient or forgiving in the ice blue of his gaze. He’d march right over to her trench and dump all the soil back into the hole, damaging days of work. Obviously pleasantries didn’t work on this brawny, inconsiderate man. She nodded. “All right. Just give me another half-hour and I’ll have my stuff packed up and I’ll be out of here.” “I’ll give you fifteen minutes.” Her mouth dropped open. “Fifteen minutes? But it’ll take longer than that—” “I want you out of here in fifteen minutes. Load your stuff up and get out.” He turned and headed back to his truck. He reached for the door handle and paused as he plopped his hat back on his head. “If you come back, I’ll have the sheriff on your butt so fast you won’t know what hit you.” With that last parting shot, he climbed into his truck, started the engine, and roared off, traversing the bumpy

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canyon like a rattlesnake looking for shade in a desert. For several moments she stood where he’d left her, staring with contempt after the retreating hunk of ugly, lime green, rusty metal. What a bastard. What a nasty, arrogant pig. She absolutely abhorred him. A slight twinge of distress in her chest made her realize she’d held her breath and she quickly sucked in air. Her face felt stiff, her lips dry, and her tongue parched. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made her so angry she could scream. She would gladly have pitched rocks at his damn handsome head. Infuriated, she started gathering her equipment. As she wrestled with the heavy sieve, she knew fifteen minutes wouldn’t be enough time to be done and retreat from his land. Well, he’d have to live with it. Besides, if he was herding cattle or breaking broncos or whatever cowboys did, he wasn’t going to have time to come back here and accost her immediately. Screw him. She’d at least finish the last bucket of work. Grabbing the bucket, she dumped the combination of sandy soil and dark dirt onto the sieve and seesawed it back and forth. After a couple of shakes she pushed her gloved hands through the soil and searched methodically for anything significant. Despite the heated encounter with Shane O’Donnell, her blood rushed with excitement at the prospect of finding a significant artifact.

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She hadn’t lied to Shane O’Donnell about Grant’s survey of the area last week. Several historic era artifacts, old spoons, nails, barbed wire, and bottles had turned up, and the concentration suggested a major site worth a test pit. Emma had been attending a seminar on radiocarbon dating when she’d gotten Grant’s call. He needed her help and had told her she needed to get down to the San Juan Valley area of Colorado as soon as possible. But here she was sweltering in the hot sun, sucking down dust and encountering the wrath of one overbearing, ugly, renegade cowboy with the personality of a bull. She chuckled as she shifted through the dirt. Who was she kidding? He might be stubborn and as toxic as flypaper. But he wasn’t ugly. And his butt sure wasn’t skinny. With a self-reproving laugh, she remembered her surreptitious glance at his jean-clad rear as he’d returned to his truck. Not only did the nastiest man on the face of the planet radiate a stomach-tumbling sexuality, but he had the best looking ass this side of the Rocky Mountains. ALONG THE RIDGE south of the excavation, a man crouched behind some scrub brush that lined the bluff. He prized these quiet moments, these opportunities to watch the tall, delectable woman below as she worked. He’d watched the lady and the big man tangle it up over the dig. He hadn’t heard their words, but their expressions had shown equal parts anger. He coveted a chance to taste her and he knew that soon he’d have the opportunity. His heart did an excited

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tattoo as he brought his binoculars up so he could see her long legs as she walked across to the Ford Explorer and opened the back hatch. She reached inside and brought out a bottle of water. She licked her lips and he watched the path of her tongue. After twisting the top off the fresh bottle of water, she greedily drank. Moments later she removed the bandanna from around her neck and soaked it with water. She tied it around her neck again and then held the bottle to her cheek and closed her eyes. He smiled. Nothing was more important than making sure everything went as planned, and that might mean that Emma would have to be dealt with at one point or another. Now all was right with the world and nothing drastic needed. Therefore all he had to do was watch and wait for the right time. SHANE SQUINTED in the bright sun, not bothering to retrieve his sunglasses from the glove compartment of the truck. His vehicle bumped over the dented road, rattling and groaning as its old joints protested. As he traversed the dirt road that served as a driveway to his Uncle Clement’s house, he contemplated what he would say to his uncle. He’d never spoken in anger to Uncle Clement before, but after the incident with the archaeologist this morning, his blood simmered, and he felt completely off kilter. His scalped itched and he snatched his cowboy hat off and swept his fingers through his hair. It was stifling in the old truck, and he rolled the window down all the way. The hot wind that blasted inside didn’t help, but maybe the discomfort would take his mind off Emma Baker. If he thought back, he couldn’t remember any woman in recent memory making him boil like a kettle on

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high. In more ways than one. He couldn’t say which was more annoying; that she’d pissed him off with her combination of stubborn insistence and smooth negotiation style, or that on closer inspection he’d discovered she was one beautiful woman. He gritted his teeth in annoyance both with himself and her. He’d almost forgotten to be angry when she’d unfolded her legs and stood to offer her hand. At six five he towered over most women and men, but she wasn’t petite. When she’d looked up at him, he’d noted the trace of freckles over her upper cheeks, sprinkled like cinnamon along the pink flush of her skin. Each curve of her face had looked delicate. Intelligence and determination had etched her green eyes. Her long-sleeved shirt had sheltered her from the sun, but hadn’t concealed the enticing shape of her full breasts. Encased in worn denim, the gentle, full curve of her hips and her long legs had given his libido a kickstart. He’d felt a stirring in his gut that nothing to do with the fact breakfast had been a long time ago. When she’d spoken, the seductive, warm liquid of her voice had short-circuited his brain. When she’d parted her lips and smiled he’d almost choked. And she was a little strange. Had she called him Mel Gibson? Reluctantly he chuckled and shook his head. Nope. Emma Baker was the type of trouble he didn’t need. Add the Baker woman’s solid determination to fight him, along with his mother’s phone call yesterday, and he felt his annoyance notch up a degree. Yeah, if anyone could fry his cookies, his mother knew just how high to set the oven.

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Margaret O’Donnell-Ivy had moved out of his life after she had divorced his father fourteen years ago. Shane swallowed and tasted the dry flavor of bitterness on his tongue. Deciding he didn’t want to think about those years before his mother left, he pushed the painful thoughts back where they belonged. In a trash bin of memories that he kept stored away, cataloged under G for garbage. Amazed at the tension that tightened his shoulders, he grimaced. After he paid a visit to his uncle, a serious workout might take the sting out of the residual anger thrumming within him. Sometimes it frightened him, this animosity, and this sudden urge to vent his spleen. Scared him in a way that was deep, hot, and undeniably as raging as the sun blazing into his truck. Get it under control. You don’t want to be like dad. Along that path lay certain disaster. Uncle Clement and Aunt Josy’s log cabin style ranch house came into view. He drove into the circular drive and with a stomp on the brakes, came to a halt. His brakes were getting mushy from the way he’d been driving lately. One of these days he was going to lose it completely and go careening off a canyon road. Sometimes the idea didn’t sound all that bad. Aunt Josy was planting a rose bush in her flowerbed at the front near the porch, and as he climbed out of the truck, she stood and waved. Visiting his aunt and uncle remained one of the few things that could calm his soul. Aunt Josy’s enduring good looks made her appear much younger than middle-aged. He wished he had half her patience and warmth. Her good nature glowed in her dark eyes and the pink complexion of her round face. A bit overweight for her petite height, she still had a stamina and endurance that surpassed many thinner women. Her long, dark hair flowed

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straight down her back in a thick ponytail, and today she wore a floppy, wide-brimmed hat with ridiculous plastic flowers on the rim. “Haven’t you given up on those damned rose bushes, yet?” he asked as she went into his arms for a warm hug. She laughed and released him. “No, and nothing you can say will change my mind. I’m going to make it work this year.” He smiled, but the effort made him feel like his face would crack. “If anybody can make roses bloom in this climate, Aunt Josy, you can.” “Flattery will get you everywhere, Shane.” She wiped her hands on her worn jeans and started toward the porch steps. “I suppose you’d like to stay for lunch? I’ve got a luscious stew brewing in the crock pot.” He groaned and followed her inside the cabin and toward the kitchen. He snatched his hat off his head before his aunt could tell him to take it off. “Sounds good. Tempting as the offer may be, I really came to see Uncle Clement about that archaeologist.” When they reached the kitchen, she slipped off her garden gloves, opened a door under the sink and tossed them onto a shelf. “Oh-oh. Don’t tell me you went down to the site?” He nodded. “I didn’t even know anyone was there until I took out my binoculars and saw her in the canyon.” “Saw who in the canyon?” a deep, rumbling voice asked behind Shane. For a split second Shane thought his father had come back from the dead, so familiar was the voice. But he turned and his uncle stood in the doorway, his thumbs hooked in his belt, his feet planted apart. Skinny, and rather

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small in stature, Clement didn’t look anything like Shane’s dad. “Miss Emma Baker,” Shane said, enunciating her name succinctly, recalling the haughty tilt to her head as she’d looked up at him. Unfortunately he also remembered her warm, soft scent. “Ah, so you met Emma,” Uncle Clement said as he moved further into the kitchen. “Isn’t she a nice girl?” Shane didn’t think the word girl described her. Woman. All woman. Shane snorted a laugh. “A little high and mighty.” Shane caught the look that passed between his aunt and uncle. Uncle Clement arched a brow and smiled. “I can see she made quite an impression on you.” Then he gave his wife a mock frown. “What’s for dinner, woman?” Aunt Josy put her hands on her hips. “Take your hat off in the house, Clement.” “Humph,” he said softly, the rumble in his voice tinged with affection as he reached for his wife and gave her a quick, hard kiss on the mouth. “What’s that wonderful smell?” “It’s certainly not you,” she said, smiling affectionately. “What have you been doing?” He scratched his balding head. “Fixing that fence over at Cutley Ridge. One of those damned cows of yours must be leaning on the fence again, Shane.” Shane sighed and crossed his arms. “What we need to do is put a fence between my property and yours.” Uncle Clement frowned. “Why?” “Because I want to keep that archaeologist off my land.” Shane’s uncle grimaced. “Uh, oh.”

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“Yeah, uh, oh,” Shane said softly. “But Grant Wilder said he’d keep the survey on our side,” Aunt Josy said, her smooth forehead wrinkling as she frowned. Shane sat down at the kitchen table. “Apparently Mr. Wilder lied. She was digging in a pit when I went down to confront her.” Aunt Josy’s gentle eyes narrowed. “You confronted her?” Shane stiffened, resenting the suspicious tone in her voice. He hated it when people acted as if he was a time bomb ready to go off. No matter that his aunt and uncle loved him with a fierce devotion, sometimes they gave him that ‘look.’ The one that said they didn’t quite trust him to hold in his anger. “I just talked to her.” Aunt Josy smiled. “I know, darlin’. You didn’t frighten her though, did you?” He frowned. “Hardly.” His uncle chuckled. “I suppose you ordered her off your land?” “Damned right,” Shane muttered, leaning back in his chair slightly and stretching his legs in front of him. “When I went back thirty minutes later, she’d cleared out. And I don’t want her on my property again.” Shane had a feeling, though, that he hadn’t seen the last of Emma Baker.

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Chapter 2 EMMA FIDDLED with the utensils lying on the napkin on the table, then took a sip of her coffee. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this edgy. As she sat in The Golden Brand restaurant and waited for a waitress to cover her table, Emma looked out the window and half expected to see Shane O’Donnell. But he probably had plenty of work to do in the morning on the ranch and wouldn’t dream of coming into a family style restaurant. The word family was far too cozy for him. The large log cabin structure leaned precariously on the edge of a short drop to the river that rushed by the small town of Gambit Creek. Charming in a rustic way, the establishment had been highly recommended by Josy O’Donnell, the aunt of the infamous Shane. Emma couldn’t imagine Shane in a place like this. No. He was the hard drinking, womanizing type that frequented places she’d seen on the small main strip in town. The Bull. The Pike. Amazon Saloon. Yep. She knew it in her bones. She pictured him sipping a whiskey and cola. Or more likely, he’d have the whiskey straight and slam it back. She wouldn’t be surprised if he drank it for breakfast. Recalling the hard, rough edge of his speech, the husky, sexy tone, she could easily picture him corralling the waitress that had yet to appear at her table. It would be as easy for him as snapping his fingers.

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She could almost hear the tinkle of piano keys being played in the background, the scent of smoke, sweat, blood, and booze filling the air. The waitress would wear one of those saloon girl outfits with the black fishnet hose. Shane in a cowboy hat, long duster coated with trail dust, his face covered with stubble. Shane’s strength as his arm snaked around her waist and pulled the waitress down onto his lap. Yet, instead of seeing the waitress on his lap, Emma envisioned herself being pulled into his arms. Crockery smashed to the floor in the kitchen and brought her out of her daydream with a jolt. How ridiculous. I wouldn’t be caught dead in Shane’s embrace. Emma sat back in her booth. Where was Grant anyway? It wasn’t the first time she wished her boss could be prompt. When she’d stopped by his RV last night, he’d suggested they get breakfast before going out to the site. After specifying a time to meet the next morning, he’d asked her to stay for a drink. Knowing she had to drive, and not too keen on being in his company socially, she declined the offer. Everything about Grant irritated her. She knew she could learn a lot from his expertise in the field, and because of that she tolerated his temper, his supercilious remarks and demanding attitude. To use a cliché, it was his way or the highway. Soon she hoped she’d have enough experience to apply for a bigger position with a larger company or to hire on with the state. In the mean time, she would endure Grant’s dubious company. As she reached for her coffee, she spotted her tardy boss pushing his way through the gaggle at the front. His tall, skinny form was ruined by a slouch and his walk reminded her of a baby giraffe’s stagger. This morning he wore baggy jeans, charcoal T-shirt and hiking boots. “Emma.” Grant frowned and flopped into the seat opposite her. He swept a hand through his bushy, long, red

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hair, pushing it impatiently back. “I feel like crap.” “Good morning to you, too.” He sighed and gave her a slightly sarcastic smile. “Good morning.” He inhaled. “God, even the smell of food makes me sick.” “Sorry to hear that. Are you going to make it to the dig today?” She glanced outside at the bustling main street of the little mountain town and the high peaks that surrounded it. His gaze snapped from the people at the other tables then back to Emma. The heavy smattering of freckles on his pale face stood in stark relief over his sharp nose. “I called Clement O’Donnell this morning hoping he would talk some sense into his nephew.” She sighed. “Good. For a while I was worried.” “You should be.” “What do you mean?” The waitress interrupted to take their breakfast orders. When she left, Grant dropped his tone to a whisper. “I’ve heard rumors from the locals that Shane O’Donnell is one rough character.” “Define rough.” “I talked to people at Chester College in the anthropological department this morning. They tried to get permission to excavate in the canyon on his property last year. He came at them with a rifle.” Frowning deeply, she picked up her coffee and took a sip of the steaming liquid. “He tried to shoot them?”

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“Not exactly. They called him ahead of time and he didn’t want to even meet with them. Then they went out to his ranch and he greeted them at the door with a gun.” She could imagine him doing just that, and the idea disturbed her. Maybe danger had been even closer than she’d realized. “What happened then?” she asked. “They weren’t crazy. They decided digging up Sadie Cutley’s old homestead wasn’t worth a bullet in the back.” “It seems odd, though. Why would anyone go to such lengths to keep archaeologists away? All he had to do was say no like he did to me.” Grant shrugged. “Does seem pretty strange. My guess is there’s something on that site he doesn’t want us to discover.” Emma fumbled with her paper napkin and utensils. “Nothing O’Donnell said yesterday indicated he knew anything extraordinary about the site.” “Maybe he wants to keep the loot to himself.” “That’s assuming there is loot.” “That’s sacrilege. Everyone knows there’s treasure there. It’s just a matter of finding it.” She shook her head. “When Clement O’Donnell told us about the treasure, he qualified it as a legend. Probably three-fourths myth. We’re looking for evidence Sadie Cutley even lived on that spot, not whether she had mounds of money and jewels hidden somewhere. Besides, if there really had been a treasure, don’t you think the

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O’Donnell’s or someone else would have discovered it by now? The joke would be on us poor little archaeologists digging around looking for something that doesn’t exist.” “Yeah,” he said slowly, exhaling the word like a man blowing smoke from a cigarette. “Unless Clement finding the necklace made his nephew think there’s more treasure.” The possibility had never occurred to her. Before she could speak the waitress brought their order and they spent the next few minutes using condiments and settling into a silence as they ate. Grant’s eyes narrowed as he chewed. “We’ve got a lot riding on this excavation, Emma. Competing with the big boys gets harder every year.” He was right. Grant had founded his small archaeological firm five years earlier and had done well on his own. Before he’d hired her a year ago, she’d traveled for three years to various countries and worked on numerous projects to hone her skills and knowledge. After moving from place to place, she’d looked forward to a firm footing in one location in her home state. Lately, though, assignments had come in slowly and she knew Grant worried about finances. Before she could comment, she caught sight of Shane following a waitress to a table. Fancy that. So The Golden Brand was his type of place. Shane nodded to Emma and Grant and continued until the waitress showed him to a small table for two. With his broad shoulders, long arms, and long legs, it would be impossible to sit at the dinky table with him without bumping knees. Today he wore a snug navy T-shirt that molded his shoulders and muscular chest, and the shirt

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was tucked into western cut jeans that hugged his buns and muscled thighs. A disturbing excitement winged through her, surprising her right down to her hiking boots. God, Emma. Keep your mind on business. Forbidden fruit was just that. Forbidden. And for a damn good reason. “What’s he doing here?” Grant asked. She shrugged. “Eating.” “Very funny, Emma.” She glanced at Shane again. “I’d hate to see all the work we’ve already done go to waste.” “Remember, his uncle’s going to talk to him today. With any luck, the big ape will back off and let you on the property.” She put down her fork. She’d already lost her appetite. “I thought you said you were coming to help me haul the heavy equipment away from the site today in case he doesn’t allow us back on the property. I wrestled with that sieve yesterday and almost broke my arm.” He shook his head and his hair moved around his thin shoulders. He tucked the long strands behind his ears and the effect made his face look even sharper. “I need to go to the library today and see if I can locate more information on the O’Donnell ranch area and the legend of Sadie Cutley.” She sighed. “All right. But if Shane O’Donnell hauls off your expensive survey equipment don’t blame me.” She glanced at Shane again. The waitress who’d been so inattentive to her earlier hung around Shane’s table, smiling and actually batting her eyelashes. Shane frowned, but when the woman placed her hand on his arm and

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squeezed, Emma saw him wink at the buxom, beautiful woman. Emma sniffed, looked away, and drank the last of her coffee. “Well, if you’re going to do some research, maybe I’ll stop by Shane’s table before I leave and see if I can talk him into letting us get back to work,” she said. Grant’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy? You’ll just make him angry. Let his uncle talk to him first.” “Call me perverse. I like a challenge.” He put his head in his hands. “This guy may be dangerous.” “What can he do to me, Grant? We’re in the middle of a restaurant. I don’t think he’s hiding an AK-47 under his shirt, do you? As of this moment we’re out of a job unless we can sweet talk our way back into it.” He lowered his gaze to his empty coffee cup. For a moment she thought he would order her to stay away. “All right. Maybe you can sweet talk him.” Grant tossed some money on the table. “I’ll contact you later at the hotel. Be careful.” With that ominous warning he loped out of the restaurant. Glad to see the back of Grant, she waited until the waitress stopped floating around Shane before she forced herself to her feet and started toward his table. The closer she got, however, her breathing quickened and her stomach did disturbing cartwheels. Easy. Easy. No reason to get wound up over polite conversation. At least she hoped it was going to be polite. Shane didn’t appear to take notice of her until she stopped at the table. In one lightning quick moment, his hard gaze swept from her face down to her toes. A puzzling warmth filled her center, an uncertainty that hovered

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somewhere around irritation. Emma thought that if his assessment of her was an insult, his contempt was as stimulating as most men’s admiration. She took a deep breath and smiled. “Good morning.” “Morning,” he said, his words rumbling out stern and deep. He didn’t answer her smile with one of his own. Okay. So he was going to make this difficult. “May I have a word with you?” He stared at her for so long she thought he’d never answer. Then he nodded. She sank into the chair opposite and immediately bumped knees with him. Snatching her legs back as if she’d been burned, she caught a glint of amusement in the crystal quality of his eyes. “I hope you’re not here to try and convince me to let you on my land, Miss Baker, because it’s not going to work.” “Call me Emma,” she said automatically. “Miss Baker makes me feel like a spinster school teacher.” “Emma,” he said softly and the tone made her name a caress. She wanted to hear it on his lips again. She did a mental shrug to get her thoughts back to the task before her. “I think you and I can come to an agreement about this dig.” “The only agreement I want is for you to say you’ll stay away.” She sighed. “Please hear me out. This excavation is very important.” “Did Wilder send you over here to talk to me?” He shifted in the chair, leaning back as the waitress appeared with his order of French toast. He waited until the waitress left before he continued. “Because if he did, you can forget it right now.”

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She opened her mouth to retort, but reminded herself she should use honey, not battery acid. “No, he didn’t send me over. I’m here because I think you’re a reasonable man and that if you’d give us a chance we—” “I’m not reasonable,” he said with the soft, low quality of velvet. He hadn’t even touched his breakfast yet, his gaze trained on her continuously. “The first thing most people discover about me is that I’m the last person they want to deal with. If you’re smart you’ll pack up and get out of town.” Suddenly she had the absurd feeling she’d stepped into the O.K. Corral. “This is not Gunsmoke, Mr. O’Donnell—” “Shane,” he said. She took in a deep breath as he reached for his fork and started in on his breakfast. “Shane, I don’t want to fight with you. I have a proposal.” Instantly she regretted her choice of words. He was the type of man who missed nothing and used everything to his advantage. The power of his gaze caused her to lean back in her chair. Fear and fascination darted through her as he smiled. She’d wondered what his grin would look like. Now she wished he hadn’t. Instead of amusement lightening his mien, his expression gave new meaning to the word hazardous. His smile, no matter how sarcastic, tipped him into the stunning category. “I doubt anything you offer me will change my mind.” The waitress returned to fill his coffee cup and Emma took the moment to regroup. So he wanted to play dirty? She’d make sure he got down right dingy. When the waitress left, she sent her first volley.

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“What are you afraid of, Shane?” He stiffened and the coffee cup stopped halfway to his lips. Direct hit. His eyes narrowed. “I’m not afraid of anything.” “Grant and I were discussing why you’re so reluctant to let us on your land if your uncle is okay with an excavation on his property. Is there something you don’t want us to find? Maybe you want to keep Sadie Cutley’s treasure all to yourself?” Seconds stretched out as he glared at her. “There is no treasure, and if there had been my father would have found it long ago.” “But would he have located everything? Without a professional archaeological survey it’s very possible he would have missed the site. It sometimes takes a trained eye to see what’s right in front of you.” “True. But even if my father hadn’t a clue what he was doing, I would have found it.” “You sound very sure of yourself.” “I know a little about archaeology.” Surprised, she stared at him silently. He met her gaze steadily and she wondered if he hid the truth as well as he did his feelings. Everything about him seemed like a coiled spring, ready to blow loose. “Don’t look so amazed,” he said. “I realize city women like yourself sometimes think country men are dumb hicks.” Mortified, she knew she hadn’t said anything to indicate her opinion of cowboys, but somehow he’d known

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anyway. Maybe she had underestimated him and that ticked her off. From now on she needed to keep a tight hold on her expression. She didn’t want her quest to be more difficult than it already was. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything about your intelligence,” she said, adding a bright smile. His rigid expression didn’t change. “What’s in all this for you, Emma? Why aren’t you working with the Bureau of Land Management or some other big organization where your skills would be appreciated?” Surprised again by his turn in conversation, she answered without thinking. “Grant Wilder is an expert in the field of historic archaeology.” “So you’re hoping some of Wilder’s prestige will rub off on you? Why? What do you need it for?” Low and soft, his words rumbled with a seductive quality. His voice carried a personal caress that lingered within her. She looked down at her hands in her lap, then back at him. She refused to let this man get to her. Emma pondered his question and realized the tables had turned on her yet again. She’d tried to scrutinize Shane’s motivations and with a masterful twist he had her answering his interrogation. Angry, she pursed her lips and chose to ignore his last query. “We’re not talking about me here, we’re talking about the excavation. Let’s stick with that, shall we? If I do a good job on this dig, it’ll go a long way toward building up our company’s image. With that reputation comes more contracts.” He nodded. “True. But somehow I don’t see Wilder giving any of the glory to you. Where was he yesterday while you were slaving in the hot sun?” Was the man a mind reader? How had he picked up her irritation with Grant? He didn’t know her well and

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he hadn’t met Grant. “He was ill.” Shane shook his head and took a bite of his breakfast. “Then you shouldn’t have been there alone.” She bristled. “Why not? I can do the work.” “It isn’t safe for a woman alone in the canyon.” A tiny alarm bell went off in her head. “Why is that?” “It’s miles from my house or my uncle’s and even more miles to the main road. What if you had some car trouble or something else happened to you? You could be there for hours before anyone realized you needed help.” Her Explorer was always packed with emergency supplies, including enough food for a couple of days. She tried a smile. “I was a Girl Scout.” He pinned her with a cool appraisal, as if she were a door-to-door vacuum cleaner sales person. “I don’t want you on my land,” he said softly. “And that’s the last word on it.” Anger steamed to the surface. “I haven’t even told you my proposal.” He put down his fork and crossed his arms. “All right. Give me your best shot.” She inhaled deeply before speaking. “Grant’s initial survey last week pinpointed a concentration of artifacts slightly to the west of your uncle’s land. The site extends past his land with the heaviest collection of items located where I’m digging now. If we can’t concentrate our efforts there, we might as well pack up our bags. I can promise you that I pride myself on doing a professional job.” “How do I know that? Just because you have professional credentials doesn’t mean you won’t pocket what you find.”

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She glared at him. “We specifically asked your uncle if we could transport the necklace to the lab. We would do the same for anything else found on your land, of course.” When he remained quiet, she continued. “I’m not a pot hunter. And I can prove it to you. Come by the site each day, any time you want, unannounced. Observe what I’m doing.” He remained silent, his body language laced with mistrust. His black hair was in chaos again, she noticed, continually in disarray because of the black cowboy hat. Every thick, wavy lock seemed astray and she wanted to reach up and push them back in place. She realized she couldn’t afford to let his masculine attributes distract her repeatedly. The devil sitting on her shoulder wouldn’t let her give up yet. The waitress brought his check, and he looked at it and said nothing. “Should I take your silence as a no?” she asked. “All right. You can dig on my land.” He reached for his hat and put it on his head. Retrieving his wallet, he pulled out money and laid it on the table. “When I come by each day, I want a full report on what you’ve found and I want to see every item. And remember, just because you can’t see me, doesn’t mean I’m not watching you.” With that he touched the brim of his hat in salute and walked away. Adrenaline sprinkled through her blood as if she’d run from a predator. She couldn’t feel happy about what she’d accomplished, and she didn’t know why. The fact this man could stretch her nerves tighter than a crossbow made her want to scream. She didn’t leave the restaurant until she saw Shane’s truck exit the parking lot. Then she headed outside to her Explorer. Before she turned on the ignition she looked out the window and took in the spectacular mountain range that surrounded the town on all sides. Blue and green against the stunning panorama of a clear heaven, the

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mountain chain rose to a lofty fourteen thousand feet and stunned her senses with its beauty. She momentarily envied those who lived in Gambit Creek. Lifestyles here seemed so calm, serene, and settled. What she wouldn’t give to have a little peace like this on a permanent basis. Serenity. A place to call home. A family. A niche where she could settle into a routine that didn’t include a frenetic round of going from excavation to excavation. She wanted to be far from her parents and memories too painful to contemplate. Somewhere like these mountains. But she had work to do and it waited while she dilly-dallied. She picked up the unopened letter that lay on the seat next to her and perused the return address on the envelope. Mr. and Mrs. Harmon Baker. Feeling the expensive texture of the stationery, she thought about opening the letter once and for all. Unbridled anger slipped between the cracks of her control, and she threw the letter back on the seat. What could they want from her after all this time? To tell her they forgave her? To say they’d been wrong? No. Her father was never wrong, and neither was her detached, cold mother. Annoyed with herself for allowing them to control her emotions when she was hundreds of miles away, she started the vehicle and headed out of the parking lot toward the site. No. She wouldn’t read the letter. This was the first correspondence she’d received from them in a year and she’d gotten used to the lack of communication. It was almost better this way. Silence hurt less than the haughty tone of her father’s pen, or the cold bite of her mother’s words.

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Chapter 3 AS EMMA finished her last taste of Josy O’Donnell’s secret recipe chili, the sun dipped under a dark cloud hovering near the mountains. Night waited for no one, and reminded her that she needed to leave the cozy atmosphere of Clement and Josy’s patio for the sterile interior of her hotel room. “That was wonderful,” Emma said as Clement poured her another glass of lemonade. “Grant will be jealous when I tell him about this feast.” “We haven’t seen Grant this week at all,” Josy said. “He’s been doing library research and today he went to visit some friends over in Cortez,” Emma explained. “He should be back to the excavation tomorrow.” Clement munched a tortilla chip. “Shows he has confidence in you.” “I’m just glad I’m still at the site. For awhile it was touch and go.” Josy nodded. “When Clement called Shane about letting you continue the dig, we were surprised that he’d already talked to you at breakfast that morning.” “Hell, I was amazed he gave in as easily as he did,” Clement said. Emma smiled ruefully. “Believe me, he made me work for it.” Josy gave Clement another knowing look and Emma wondered if she should keep her mouth shut altogether about Shane. She’d come to their home to report on what she’d found at the site, not to disparage their nephew.

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Clearing his throat, Clement said, “Shane can be stubborn.” “I won’t make excuses for him,” Josy said, her gaze steady and unflinching. “He is the way he is by choice...and he didn’t have an easy time of it growing up.” “Ornery by choice?” Emma asked, smiling. Clement and Josy laughed, and with relief, she decided she could be frank without them taking offense. “There’s nothing wrong with worrying about people tramping all over his land,” Emma said. “I just wish he wasn’t so prickly. I’m willing to discuss things with him rationally.” “He wasn’t always so ornery,” Clement said. When he stopped, Emma’s anticipation rose. She imagined Shane’s childhood. No doubt he’d had a mop of messy black hair and a devilish smile, and spent a lot of time pulling little girls’ hair in class. Clement might have told her more, but the sound of a vehicle arriving, tires crunching gravel, stopped him. Clement groaned as he levered himself from the table. “Better go see who that is.” When he slipped back into the house, Josy flipped her long dark hair back from her face. “Don’t let Shane get to you, honey.” Josy gazed at the mountains tinged by gold and red as the sun set. “Down deep he’s a marshmallow at heart. He’s a good man.” Emma held back a strong temptation to rebuke his loyal aunt’s statement. From personal experience she knew many families closed ranks when they thought a member was being attacked. She knew well how a happy family could be thrown into chaos by unexpected difficulties and tragedies. How the happiness that had been taken for granted....

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She gazed at her empty chili bowl and remembered suddenly that her brother Doug had loved chili. A sour, burning sensation wedged into her stomach and made her wince. Doug. Doug would never taste chili again. “More chili?” Josy asked. “No, thanks.” Emma forced herself to move from painful thoughts of her brother and back to Shane. Shane was a conundrum. A man with attitude. But a marshmallow? She couldn’t imagine Shane as anything sweet in any way, shape, or form. “Look who I found,” Clement said as he came back into the yard. Shane stepped into view and Emma felt a distinctive excitement, a breathless awareness that surprised her. She hadn’t expected to see him, hadn’t wanted to see him. Surely surprise would explain the swirling sensation in her stomach, and the odd delight his appearance generated within her. Quickly she shoved aside dangerous speculation. “Emma,” Shane said, then took a sip from his beer bottle. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” She nodded. “Hello, Shane.” “You want any chili, Shane?” Clement asked. “We’ve got plenty.” Shane shook his head and kept his gaze locked on Emma. “No, thanks. I’ve already eaten. I came by to see you about that fence.” “I haven’t made it to the store yet to get the wire,” Clement said.

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Shane shrugged. “Then we won’t worry about it until next week. I have a feeling I’m going to be kind of busy.” Shane ambled toward Emma. “I thought you’d still be at the excavation.” “No...I’ve been putting in about ten hours a day. I figured I’d give myself some slack. Besides, your aunt and uncle were kind enough to invite me to dinner.” “If I’d known you were here I would have come by sooner.” Surprised, she frowned. “Why?” “I have something I want to discuss with you.” “Watch out, dear. When he has that look he has something up his sleeve,” Josy said, smiling at her nephew. Emma cocked one eyebrow. “Uh-huh. I don’t doubt it.” He remained standing, and looked around the area and then back to her. The power behind his gaze unsettled her. Didn’t he know it was rude to stare? But tonight he looked good. Really good. His perennial uniform had altered to form-fitting black jeans and a startling bright red short-sleeved polo shirt. His tanned arms, corded with muscle, caught her attention. The shirt and jeans accentuated his fitness to perfection. A woman would have to be crazy and blind not to notice and appreciate a specimen like Shane. Emma’s temperature elevated as she found him watching her ogling him. Thoughts of embarrassment disappeared as she returned his gaze with a lingering assessment. A hot, brisk breeze dashed around the side of the house, hitting her in the face. She forced her gaze away from him. She noted Josy and Clement watched them both closely and mortification returned, pinking her cheeks.

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Josy patted a chair next to her. “Sit down, Shane, and take a load off.” He sat across from Emma. Befuddled by her feelings, she became angry with herself. Get it together, Emma. When she felt out of control, all she wanted to do was run away. But she couldn’t keep running. She’d done that far too many times in her life. Running from her brother’s death, her father’s constant disapproval. For the last few years she found herself wondering if any dig, any accomplishment she made would please her father. It was a pattern she’d encountered in her relationships with all men. Something she’d resolved to change. As a part of that alteration she wouldn’t allow Shane O’Donnell’s to bully her. “You’re putting a fence up between your uncle’s property and yours?” Emma asked Shane. “No.” A frown pulled down his lips. “Not yet.” “Not yet?” She glanced around for Clement but he’d disappeared inside the house. “So you have plans for it later?” “Maybe.” Shane took a sip of his beer. “It all depends on you.” When he said nothing more she looked at the table, weary of withstanding the challenge in his eyes. Maybe every meeting she had with Shane would mean confrontation? Perhaps Josy sensed the uneasiness between them because she cleared her throat and said, “We haven’t seen you in a couple of days, Shane. What have you been up to?” He glanced at his aunt, then pinned Emma with a look. “Looking after my interests.” Emma wondered if his veiled statement insinuated he’d watched her every day from a secret location. Where

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would he hide if wanted to spy on her? “How’s Charlie?” Josy asked. A smile ran across his lips. “She’s great.” Charlie? She? Her throat went dry. Were they talking about his wife? His girlfriend? But she’d heard he wasn’t married. Of course, that didn’t mean that he didn’t live with someone or that he didn’t date someone special. She tried to imagine the type of woman he’d attract and whom he’d find attractive. Probably buxom and beautiful. Never one to enjoy long silences, Emma decided to steer the conversation away from his apparent lady friend. “You didn’t come down to the site.” Josy’s eyebrows speared up. “I didn’t know you were helping her with the excavation, Shane.” “I’m not helping her.” “I invited him down to the site every day so he could see that I’m not harming the area and not pocketing anything I find.” Emma slanted a grin at him but he didn’t smile. Instead he took another gulp of his beer. She watched his throat working as the gulp went on and on and he drained the bottle. When he lowered the bottle he caught her staring at him and he licked his lips. Another unwanted flush filled her cheeks and she glanced away. “But you’ll need to take things to your lab for analysis won’t you?” Josy asked. Emma took a taste of lemonade to dislodge the clog in her throat. “We’ve put significant finds into bags and labeled them as to the level and position they were found.”

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Josy leaned her elbows on the table. “But you haven’t found anything to prove if Sadie hid treasure there, right?” “Right. Of course, there is speculation Sadie didn’t live in that spot, but this seems unlikely with all the information we’ve gathered so far. The remains of that stone hearth was an obvious clue that a structure once stood there and the numbers of historic objects lead us to believe the area was inhabited for some time. We hope to get some carbon dating back next week.” Josy tapped her lemonade glass and smiled. “Fascinating stuff. It sounds like a lot of fun.” “And possibly dangerous.” Shane shifted in his chair and it creaked under him. “You should take plenty of water out to the site with you.” Unsure if she’d heard concern in his voice, she said, “Of course. I keep a large supply of bottled water in the Explorer. I have enough for several days if I needed it.” He nodded, apparently satisfied. “Hasn’t Wilder been down to the site with you in the last two days?” Emma frowned, curious why he disliked Grant so much. She didn’t answer immediately, half tempted to lie. “No. He’s been doing other research.” Shaking his head, he pushed his chair back a little farther and hooked one ankle over his knee. She noted the smooth leather of his black cowboy boot and realized he hadn’t worn the scuffed brown boots she’d seen him in the last two times. Why had he dressed up? A date with Charlie? She almost asked, but Clement came out onto the porch with slices of apple pie fresh from the oven. The scrumptious scent of apples and cinnamon teased her. Even Shane couldn’t resist and dug into the

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yummy dessert. When she finished, a lethargy made her sink into her cushioned chair. Clement and Josy looked happy and content, and Emma remembered lazy summer evenings as a child sitting on the porch of her parents’ old house in Denver. Long days where the brilliant orange of the sun lowered behind the Rocky Mountains and plunged the world into a cool darkness. Already stars sparkled with the brilliance of diamonds scattered on a length of navy blue velvet. Bittersweet memories tangled within her gut as she drew in rapidly cooling evening air. When had she last shared quiet time on the porch with her family? Nothing had been the same since...not since Doug— “Emma, how long do you think it will take to complete the excavation?” Clement asked. Emma forced a smile. “That’s almost impossible to say. Since we plan on doing some more survey on land just east—” “More survey on my property?” Shane asked. Perturbed that he’d interrupted her, she glared at him openly, not caring what Clement and Josy thought. “With your permission of course.” She was surprised when he smiled. “There’d be hell to pay otherwise.” Rather than participating in a pissing and moaning match with him, she went in another direction. “Tell me about the legend surrounding Sadie Cutley.” “I thought Wilder was looking that up?” Shane asked, his tone taunting as he leaned on the table. “He is. I wanted a local perspective. Sometimes when you research history in the library you don’t get the whole story.”

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Clement put his drink on the table with a thunk. “No one can verify half of what is said about her.” Josy fingered a strand of her hair. “She moved to the area in 1912. She was about twenty-five. No one knew where she’d come from. Simply showed up one day in Gambit Creek and asked if there was any property for sale. Moved into an old cabin and stayed there. She rarely came into town. Sadie was a recluse...a hermit.” “As you know, she bought the land that now comprises some of Shane’s land and a little of mine,” Clement said. Emma recalled Sadie had died in 1915 and after that the ranch land was split into two by Almer Treadwell, a very distant relative of Sadie’s. Emma looked at Clement. “And you came into the property how long ago?” “About thirty years.” Clement nodded toward Shane. “Shane was just two when we moved here.” Shane leaned back in his chair again. “My father and Uncle Clement moved from New Mexico after making some money in oil.” “We always wanted ranch land and we scouted around thoroughly before coming to Gambit Creek,” Clement said. Josy sighed. “Poor Sadie. It must have been horrible to be so alone up here. I can’t imagine staying all that time by myself.” Shane stiffened and he glanced from his aunt to Emma, as if he wanted to register Emma’s reaction. “Some people like to be alone.” Emma wondered if he thought she should stay away from his property because he liked to be a hermit? Because he didn’t like people period?

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As she smiled at her nephew Josy said, “Actually, you should ask Shane about the legends surrounding Sadie. He knows more about her than we do.” Surprised, Emma asked, “Really?” “Really,” Shane said with a straight face. Emma leaned forward slightly. “Do you know why Sadie chose to live alone?” “People irritated the hell out of her. Some people are a pain in the butt, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, pinning her with his cocky gaze. Annoyance traveled through Emma once again. “Everyone needs their own space. But I doubt it was irritation with people that cut her off from society. It must have been something more traumatic.” As if sensing a rising tension between the pair, Clement coughed and looked at his watch. “Say, Shane, I thought you wanted to watch that rodeo with me tonight? You like rodeo Emma?” “I haven’t thought about it.” “Haven’t you ever been to a rodeo?” Shane asked Emma, as if everyone on earth had watched a rodeo at least once. “I’ve never been interested.” She couldn’t understand the fascination behind watching men flung from bulls and perhaps stomped to death. “It’s dangerous.” Josy nodded. “It can be. My Uncle Davis was killed by a charging bull.” Immediately Emma wondered if Shane participated in rodeos, and the idea that a bull might stomp him or gore him sent a tremor through her. She looked at him and found his steady gaze trained on her. How could a pair

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of thick, long lashes look so totally sexy on such a rugged man? She jerked her gaze away and noted the time on her watch. “I’d better get back to the hotel. I’ve got to be up early tomorrow. The hotel is eating a hole in my pocket, so I’ll be setting up camp at the site tomorrow night. If anyone needs me, that’s where I’ll be.” “Setting up camp?” Shane asked, his eyes widening. “Do you have a problem with that?” He opened his mouth as if to object, but instead he shook his head. Sensing that he wouldn’t let the subject die, she stood. “I need to speak with you alone, Emma,” Shane said. Surprised, she turned toward him. She tensed, ready for anything this puzzling man might throw at her. “All right,” she said. After she said her good byes to Clement and Josy at the front door, she went outside. When she arrived at her vehicle she leaned back against the door. The solid metal behind her acted as security blanket against her uneasiness around Shane. In the diminishing light he looked intimidating and when he loomed in front of her she almost shrank back against the vehicle. “What did you need to talk to me about?” He leaned one hand on the car and this brought him nearer still. Down deep she couldn’t ignore the heat of his body as he stood so close. What audacity! Didn’t he know people had personal space issues? She could barely smell his soft, musk scent, and drew in a deep breath of the pleasant aroma.

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“You wanted to know more about Sadie Cutley, right?” he asked. Emma had the impression he didn’t want to be around her any more than he had to, so his offer of information surprised her. “As much as I can, yes.” He sighed. “Did you hear that she was jilted at the altar many years before she moved to Gambit Creek?” She didn’t say anything for a moment. “No. I’d heard she was nutty and people were afraid of her. Apparently she wore black all the time, as if she were in mourning.” “She was in mourning.” She looked up at him, intrigued by the gentleness in his usually stern voice. “For lost love?” He nodded. “Lost love.” “That’s very sad,” Emma said softly. She could feel the weight of his stare even though she couldn’t see him well in the increasing twilight. “It’s always sad when people deceive others. Make promises they can’t keep. Run away.” Run away. She hated those two words. Hadn’t that been what she’d been doing for years now? Moving from spot to spot, excavating and surveying sites twelve to fourteen hours a day so that she wouldn’t have to think about anything? Doug. Her father’s disapproval. No. She traveled because she liked it, and because the more experience she obtained the more possibilities she garnered for a good position in archaeology.

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She threw up her hands in a dismissing gesture. “Past mistakes stick with us, even when we try to escape them.” He tilted his head to the side, his expression curious, probing. “No matter where we go, we can’t shake them loose.” His words cut deep. Damn him for always reading her mind. “But what a horrible reason to remove yourself from society. If she’d tried, she might have made friends and her loneliness would have been relieved. True friends would have been willing to help her,” Emma said. Shane’s smile flickered across his lips, then disappeared like a wisp of smoke. “Do you think people aren’t lonely just because they have lots of friends?” “Of course not.” Once again the little devil on her shoulder made her leap two steps forward when she should have been sticking with the basics. “Is that how you feel, Shane? Lonely around other people?” His shoulders stiffened and he moved a step closer. She had to look up to see his face. “I get along well with most people. Except for those who think they know me when they don’t.” This time the softness of his words held a chill. “If you start a topic of conversation you shouldn’t jump people when they follow up on it.” He laughed, and the husky, sexy nuance made her breath catch in her throat. His chuckle held genuine amusement and appreciation. When he stopped laughing, his smile looked authentic, warm, and focused entirely on her. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. You’re...you’re...hell I don’t know what you are.”

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“Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?” “A compliment.” The luster in his eyes, barely visible in the deepening of night, brought another warm glow to her senses. In a moment of deafening silence she waited, unsure how to proceed, feeling like she stood on quick sand. “You didn’t come down to the site the last two days like you said you would.” “Miss me?” “Hardly. I wouldn’t get much done if you were around.” “Now I’m not sure whether that was a compliment or an insult.” “An insult.” “Ah, I see.” Another silence, and Shane kept his gaze steady on Emma as if he wanted to read everything about her, within her. “Have you been watching me?” she asked. “What?” “Watching me. The last two days I’ve felt like someone was spying on my every move.” He paused, as if unsure how to answer. “No. I’ve been busy, so I couldn’t come down. But I’m going to see you tomorrow for certain.” If Shane hadn’t been skulking around, then she must be imagining that creepy feeling altogether. Emma fidgeted with a button on her coat. “Was there something else you wanted to talk to me about?”

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The lightness in his expression disappeared, replaced by a serious darkness. “Two things, actually. First, you shouldn’t camp out at the site.” Anger, a more welcome feeling than the tight, sensual thread she’d experienced for the last few moments, reared its head. “Why not?” “The hotel is better.” “Yes, but camping is a lot cheaper. I’ve got all my equipment and everything is ready.” Shane jammed his hands on his hips. “Just don’t do it.” “Why? Are you afraid I’ll dig at night and clear out the place? Take off with Sadie’s treasure?” “Now you’re being ridiculous.” He ran his hand through his hair. A lock of hair twisted into a curly cue on his forehead and Emma itched to push it back...to rearrange it and tell him he was a mess. “I don’t think so.” “Is Wilder going to be with you?” he asked, disdain peppering his words. “No. As if it’s any of your business.” She’d hit a nerve. Shane closed his eyes for a second, then opened them. “There’s one other thing. I’m only giving you another week to finish the excavation.”

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Chapter 4 EMMA’S BREATH caught in her throat, anger and surprise sending adrenaline through her body. “What?” Shane hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. “I’m giving you another week.” “Well, I’m not taking it,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “We can’t finish the excavation in one week.” “Tell Wilder to get off his butt and help you.” She sighed heavily and put her hands on her hips. “Even if he helps me we can’t finish that quickly. Maybe two to three more weeks.” “One week.” To hell with politeness. Not when this man reneged on his promises. “You never had any intention of letting us finish the dig, did you?” Unyielding, his face was a mask of indifference. “Something’s come up that can’t be helped.” “You expect us to happily pack up our stuff and we’re not even halfway through the project? What about your uncle? He’s the one who originally requested our help.” “I can’t speak for my uncle. I’m telling you that the excavation you’re doing on my land must be completed in the next week. After that you need to be gone.” Emma couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so incensed, and she had to rein in the urge to yell. “Do you think it’s funny to pull people’s strings?”

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His eyes glittered with animosity, his lips compressed into a thin line. “I don’t owe you an explanation. This is my land we’re talking about here. I do what I want with it when I want.” A swell of pure dislike for him boiled to the surface. Disappointment followed close behind. She’d actually enjoyed their few minutes of camaraderie. “Fine. You can take your damned land and shove it. I’ll get the excavation done in record time. All the more reason to camp there. I’ll be finished before next week.” She turned and reached for the door handle on her Explorer when he grasped her arms and spun her about. “Let me go,” she said, apprehension running into her limbs. His grip loosened, but he didn’t release her. “I’ve got a good reason for doing this.” “Other than being a grouchy, overbearing—” “Like I said, I’ve got my reasons.” He stepped closer and his body heat seemed to reach for her, in direct contrast to the goose bumps that skittered over her skin. If she moved a step closer they’d almost touch. She watched his lips twitch. In the dim light, subtle movements became blurred. His breath on her face stirred confusion within her, and she wasn’t sure what she wanted to happen next. He shifted, bringing his chest to within an inch of her breasts, his thighs almost touching hers. A dizzy swell entered her head as if she hung over a cliff, dangling into dangerous territory. “For your own safety, Emma, don’t ask any more questions.”

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Why would he give one fig about her safety? The sincerity and softness of his plea perplexed her. He’d seemed so unforgiving, and now his gentleness took her completely off guard. “Are you threatening me?” “I might be,” he said, his gaze steady on her face. “Why are you doing this?” He held her stare, his fingers pressing in to her arms for a moment before he released her and walked away. “I can’t talk about it.” She watched his retreating back with consternation. The slam of the screen door told her she’d get no more answers tonight. “BREAKFAST IS ready, Charlie.” Shane filled the large plastic bowl with food and laid it on the floor next to the back door. Charlie trotted into the room, her tongue lolling. Shane reached down to pat the dog. As the animal looked at him and let out something between a bark and a whine, he marveled at her expression. It was the closest a Black Labrador would ever come to grinning. Before he could move to the table to eat his own breakfast, Charlie swiped his bare thigh with her tongue. “Yick.” He reached down to scratch her silky head. “Was that kiss really necessary, girl?” As he retrieved a paper towel to wipe his leg, he thought of another female he would like to kiss. He’d almost pulled Emma into his arms last night and damn the consequences. As light had faded from the

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horizon, her gentle beauty had beckoned to him and all his good sense had almost dissolved. Ever since Monday, when he’d confronted Emma and told her to get off his land, he’d had difficulty forgetting how she’d looked smudged with dirt from the dig. He wondered if she knew how ripe her lips looked or how sexy she’d appeared in those faded jeans. He’d had a fantasy or two already that involved stripping those jeans down her long legs and kissing every inch as the fabric left her limbs bare. Every time he’d seen that kick-ass-andtake-names attitude in her eyes, it made him want her more. He’d be damned if he could say what it was about her that got to him. He knew it couldn’t just be her beauty. Sure, he liked looking at a pretty woman as much as the next guy, but seeing her, listening to her voice made his libido slam into overdrive. She intrigued him. Angered him. Heat spread through his stomach and he felt himself harden. He gritted his teeth and groaned. Charlie looked up from her bowl of food. “What are you looking at?” He settled himself at the table with his newspaper and cereal. He tried to read and forget about Emma. It didn’t work. With vivid recall he thought about last night...how some of her hair had come loose from her braid and lay along her cheeks. Jealous of how close those fine hairs were to her skin, he’d ached to caress her. He gripped his orange juice glass tightly. Her cheeks flooded with color when she was angry, and an image of her roused with something more than animosity sent a swift spike of desire through him again. He took a drink but didn’t taste the tartness of the orange and his cereal became soggy as he stared at the wall.

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He hadn’t been this hungry for a woman in a long time. Not just any woman. Emma. Some women in Gambit Creek had tried more than once to get him into bed, but a quick tumble didn’t interest him. As a young man he’d indulged in meaningless sex a few times; he’d managed to keep his feelings distanced. But that seemed like centuries ago. Time, responsibilities, and disinterest had kept him celibate for a long time. Since he’d inherited his father’s property four years ago, everything had changed. And yet everything remained the same. A dull throb pounded in his right temple and he reached up to rub his forehead. Thinking about his past always gave him a headache. It didn’t matter that here, at the ranch, he’d found the life he wanted and needed. Although he was happier here than he’d been anywhere in his travels, the specter of his father’s forceful personality and shady dealings loomed like a thundercloud over Shane’s head. When Shane had moved back to the ranch, he knew the bad memories would haunt him. Yet he thought he’d escaped his past when his father died. When he quit the agency to take over the ranch, an enormous relief had settled over him. No more traveling. No more deception. No living-out-of-the-suitcase lifestyle. But once in the agency, always in the agency. Four short years of bliss on the ranch had been interrupted a month ago with one call. He looked down at Charlie. “Guess I could have said no.” Charlie continued to eat and didn’t look up. He sighed, rubbing his hand over his chin. No was not the answer you gave the agency. In any language. Could Emma be a part of the problem or an innocent bystander in the events of the last few weeks? Details on

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her life came few and far between, and he wondered if the sketchy information the agency had sent him meant she was guilty of subterfuge. Suspicion he understood; he had gallons of skepticism. An appealing face and delectable curves wouldn’t distract him from the job this time. An encounter ten years ago with an attractive senorita in Mexico had taught him the folly of letting his hormones overrule his brain. Carmelita had almost cost him his life and his livelihood when he’d let her into his heart and into his bed. Yeah, he needed to keep his libido in check. Emma Lynn Baker was still a suspect. He glanced out the kitchen windows as sun speared through in intense shards, spilling over the table and warming the room. His stomach growled in protest and he started in on his cereal, ignoring the sogginess. Bad enough he couldn’t tell Emma why he’d reduced her time for the dig to only one more week, but now he’d had to go back on his word. Hell, it hadn’t been his plan to let her on his property ever again, but at the restaurant she’d convinced him with her firm logic and he’d succumbed shamelessly. She couldn’t know the stakes had risen and her presence on his property meant danger for her. He finished his breakfast and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. He looked down at his faithful companion. “What do you think, Charlie? Am I crazy?” The Lab crunched her food contentedly. He had to be a lunatic. One hundred percent certifiable. Not only did Emma hate his guts for giving her so much trouble, if he’d given in to his instincts and tried to

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kiss her, she might have kicked him in the nuts. But it would have been worth the risk to taste her. Not a sweet, gentle peck on the lips, either. A hot, long, deep kiss. Yep. If she didn’t dislike him enough already she would have after that. After he attended to some business, he would venture to the site and watch her work. He wondered if Wilder would be there. She’d said he’d be on site Thursday. While he didn’t entirely trust Emma, his misgivings about Wilder felt much stronger. An image of her rose-tinted lips haunted him while he took his shower and later when he shaved. He closed his eyes a couple of times and imagined parting her lips with his own and feeling the texture of her hot tongue. He practically cut his damn neck thinking about it. He’d just buttoned his jeans when the phone rang. He glanced at the clock and wondered who would be calling him at that hour. He grabbed the phone next to his bed. “Shane?” His brow furrowed at his mother’s weak voice. Worry rippled through him. “Mom?” “It’s so good to hear your voice, darling.” That his mother had called twice in one week was unusual and a little alarming. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing’s wrong. I just...I just worry about you.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I’m fine.” His mother was a perpetual worrier. Especially when it came to him. She hadn’t been concerned all those

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years ago when his dad had gone into his cold, blinding rages, or when she’d discovered who her husband really was. All those years wasted while she endured and stayed with his father until she’d found the guts to leave. Part of Shane hated that she hadn’t left Colorado sooner and taken him with her. If she had, maybe he wouldn’t be paying right now for the sins of the father. And the way it looked now, he would be paying until he rotted. “I wanted to call and see if next month would be a good time to visit,” she said suddenly. Surprise lanced through him. She hadn’t visited in the four years since Shane had taken over the ranch. What could have changed her mind now? “Next month?” “I know you’re busy, but we haven’t seen each other in so long. And you and Gregory have never gotten a chance to know each other.” True, Shane had spent too much time gallivanting in exotic foreign countries catching bad guys and hadn’t met his mother’s husband Gregory Ivy more than twice in the twelve years since she’d remarried. A myriad of emotions winged through him. Part of him wanted to reestablish a solid relationship with his mother. Time and distance had cooled their ties, removed some of the bond they’d shared as mother and son. In direct contrast to her life with Shane’s father, she’d found happiness with Gregory. He took a deep breath. “I’ll need to see how things go. It’s really crazy around here right now. Can I call you next week?” Her deep sigh penetrated the miles of phone lines until it sounded like she stood next to him rather than in

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New York. “Is everything all right there?” she asked. Mothers. They knew when something was wrong. It seemed to be in their genes. “Everything is fine.” He’d hated to lie to her, but he’d lied for so many years, it came easy to him. With that ability to fib, though, came a price. Shane felt the pain start at the base of his skull. It tightened his shoulders and burst over the top of his head in a painful arc. He rubbed his neck to release the knots. “All right,” she said as if resigned. “I’ll wait to hear from you.” When they hung up, Shane closed his eyes and tension slowly drained from his bunched muscles. He made his way out to the truck. Charlie followed him and jumped into the vehicle, happy to go for a ride. Shane climbed in and started the engine. He sat for a moment and let the truck grumble and sputter in the cold morning air. “This isn’t going to be easy, girl.” He reached to scratch behind one of Charlie’s floppy ears. She grinned again and barked. He frowned. “You’re no help.” THE BLADES OF the small fan sitting on the kitchen counter of Grant’s RV rotated slowly, barely stirring the dry, hot air. Emma shifted and her thighs stuck to the plastic seat. Hot didn’t begin to describe the day. Blazing was more like it.. But, to say Grant’s temper was on the verge of boiling was more than accurate.

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“You’re kidding?” Grant said as he almost choked on his hot black coffee. As he lowered his mug, he stared at her over the small table. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me last night?” “I would’ve but you were out.” She’d wasted precious sleep time when she’d driven to the camp ground at nine o’clock the previous evening and discovered Grant hadn’t returned from Cortez. He fiddled with the handle on his mug, rubbing it absently with his right thumb. “There must be some way to get him to change his mind.” Emma sighed. “No. He’s giving us one more week to clean up and get out.” “Someone ought to give that man a good ass-kicking.” Grant rose from his bench seat to toss the rest of his coffee in the sink. Emma wondered if Grant thought he could kick Shane’s butt. She knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against Shane’s superior strength. She’d felt that barely-leashed force when Shane had gripped her arms last night. She sipped her coffee and winced. The bitter black liquid tasted like it had been made hours ago rather than a few minutes before. She took another bracing swallow. “What the hell made him change his mind?” he asked as he turned to face her. “I don’t know. When I tried to get a reason out of him he balked.” Grant sauntered to the bathroom and came back out with a leather tie for his hair, yanking the tangled mass back out of his face and securing it tightly. She’d never seen him this riled before. Spearing him with her sharpest glance, she slapped down her mug and coffee sloshed over the side. Sighing again, she went to the sink to grab a paper towel. She reached over to

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wipe off the table. Grant sat down at the table, anger etched into a hard face that looked to her like stone. “Well, I’m going to find out what the hell’s going on. First I’m calling his uncle again—” “That’s not going to make any difference.” “How do you know?” “Because I get the impression Shane doesn’t do things just because his uncle tells him he should.” “How would you know?” She opened the cabinet beneath the sink and threw the paper towel in the trash. “That’s the type of man he is.” “You’re sure he didn’t give you any indication of why he won’t let us finish?” She sank into the booth seat across from him, feeling tired and a little achy. “No. But now that I’m going to be camping on site, I’ll be able to spend more hours there without time wasted through travel.” Grant cursed, but his expression softened as he reached over to touch her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset. I seem to be doing that a lot lately.” She pulled her hand out from under his. “I think right now we should concentrate on getting the excavation done as quickly as possible. If we really press it, we can get done in a week.” He nodded. “I’ll follow you out to the site. We’re late as it is.” As Emma made her way to the door he stepped in front of her. “If ever I’m not around, I want you to take care if O’Donnell’s shows up.”

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Before she could say a thing or move back, his lips came down on hers. She was so startled by his kiss that she didn’t move for several seconds. His lips were cool and touched her lightly, but the moment she recovered, Emma recoiled. “Grant...” His mouth came down on hers again, and this time he put his hands around her waist as he immediately plunged his tongue between her lips, pushing, prodding. Repulsed by his sudden carnivorous kiss, she attempted to yank back from him. He tightened his grip and she momentarily froze. As his kiss deepened, she twisted her head to the side. “Grant, stop it,” she gasped and pushed against him again. This time he released her and she quickly moved to the door. Panic pumped through her blood. Her breath came quickly and unsteadily as she opened the door and stepped out. She didn’t give him a second glance as she headed for her car. AS EARLY MORNING sun poured across the site, Emma sifted through soil she’d poured into the sieve. Perspiration dotted her brow and she paused to wipe her arm across her forehead. She pulled the bill of her baseball cap a little lower on her forehead to block out the hot rays. The achy feeling continued, and she wondered if she’d managed to come down with something. Nausea spiraled in her stomach. Then again, she could put it down to nerves. For the past half hour a prickling sense of being watched distracted her from concentrating. Was it Shane? If so, why? She’d pondered Shane’s change of heart, and his refusal to explain why he wanted them off his land so

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quickly. She wanted to chalk it up to plain meanness. But it was more than that. Much more. An engine reverberated in the distance, and trepidation made her stop work. She looked down the road approaching the site. She glanced over at Grant and noted he worked in the pit using a dental tool to painstakingly remove a metallic object from one corner. Take it easy. You’re not alone, Emma. Even with Grant here she didn’t feel comfortable, her nerves still jumping at every sound. Besides, his unwanted embrace had her seriously rethinking her position with Grant Wilder Archaeology. Clearly, if she wanted to press the issue, Grant could be accused of sexual harassment. She hadn’t led him to believe she wanted a physical relationship with him, yet he’d pounced on her with clear aggressiveness. She must talk to him about what had occurred. Several moments later the vehicle that had been speeding in their direction came into view. Great. An ugly green truck. It was Shane. Damn. Grant rose from his crouch and stepped out of the pit; the grim slash of his mouth and his flushed face made him even less attractive. No, she wasn’t looking forward to this at all. She peeled off her gloves. As a wave of lightheadedness passed through her, she closed her eyes. Maybe if she kept them closed long enough, Shane’s truck would disappear and him along with it. She opened her eyes slowly. Nope. Not only was he there, he’d climbed from the truck and an unusually large Black Labrador trailed behind him. She stiffened. Was the dog friendly or had Shane brought the animal for leverage? Shane headed directly for the pit. Grant stood with his feet apart, arms crossed.

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Shane glanced in her direction and for a second she thought she saw a softening in his eyes. This idea evaporated as quickly as it came when he stopped in front of Grant and lowered a hard stare on the smaller man. Emma walked toward them, ready to take up the banner of negotiator if the situation warranted. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Grant said flatly, taking off his baseball cap. “I was invited to visit the site anytime I wanted,” Shane said, looking at Emma as she approached. “Unless of course, you’ve decided I can’t be on my own land.” “We did invite him to observe the dig, Grant,” Emma said. Grant nodded, looking up at the taller, far larger man in front of him. “We have a lot of work to do. You being here is not conducive to getting that accomplished. Considering the shortened time line you gave us, I’d think you’d understand that.” Emma saw clear defiance in the way Shane stood. His feet spread apart, he crossed his arms in a military pose that demanded compliance. “Emma invited me. Since you’re on my property I don’t need your prior approval.” “Emma was wrong. When she discussed it with me this morning, I told her so.” Grant’s lips twitched, a fleeting, sarcastic smile that vanished almost instantly. “I have some serious problems with your tactics.” “For a man who has a business hanging by a short tether, it would seem to me you’d try a little more diplomacy.” Shane relaxed his stance, tilting his hat back on his head with a shove of his fingers. His glanced landed on Emma and stayed. “Maybe you’d better let Emma handle all people contact. She has tact and business sense. She’s handled me so far.” Grant stiffened as if someone had rammed a poker up his back and he glared at Emma.

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She hadn’t expected the compliment, especially not from Shane. Suspicious of his agreeable words, she kept a mental distance and a wary watch. Grant seemed to grow smaller in Shane’s shadow but tilted his chin up in resentment. “I don’t think you should be lecturing me on diplomacy. Are you here because you want to see what we’ve found and the progress we’ve made or are you here because you’ve got the hots for Emma?” Startled by Grant’s statement, Emma’s mouth dropped open. “Grant!” Grant lanced at her. “Let me handle this.” The patronizing, amazing twit! Shane’s gaze latched onto Grant like a guard dog on a burglar’s leg. “Right now, Wilder, I’m holding back because I know my uncle wants you to stay here and work. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have been here in the first place, and you wouldn’t be here now.” He took a deep breath, as if restraining himself. “I’ll observe for a short time and then I have work to do. I won’t be here long.” Grant’s jaw clenched, and he looked ready for battle. Weary of the testosterone level, Emma intervened. “I can show you what we’ve found so far, and answer any questions you have.” Shane nodded. “I’d like that.” Immediately Grant turned on her, the blaze in his eyes startling. “Jesus, I can’t believe this. Are you trying to cozy up to him, too? Is that what this is all about? Maybe I ought to just let you go now.” “Let me go?” Her stomach lurched with a sickening jolt. “What are you talking about?” Grant put his hands back on his hips. “You’ve let your hormones get in the way of your judgment. By inviting

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him here you’ve jeopardized the integrity of the site and our ability to perform our jobs.” Shocked into silence, she didn’t speak. She’d never seen him this irrational. Could he be doing this because she’d rebuffed his kisses? Shane took a couple steps toward them. “Don’t get crazy on me, Wilder. This isn’t her fault. She’s been trying to work with me. Which is more than I can say for you.” Grant swung back to Shane and put his hand up to keep Shane from approaching closer. “Keep the hell out of this. She works for me.” Looking down at the hand Grant had placed on his chest, Shane’s fists clenched at his sides. His eyes narrowed. Emma thought she’d never seen a more dangerous looking man in all her life. She glanced at the dog. The lab’s ears twitched and the animal shifted on her agile legs, expectant and sensing the high tension between the men. “Back off,” Shane said softly, glaring at Grant. Astounding. They couldn’t intend to have a low down, drag out fight right here? “You back off,” Grant said. He gave Shane a little shove and Shane took a step back. The dog growled, and Emma expected the animal to launch itself at Grant any minute, but it remained steady, watchful. Emma kept a watchful eye on the dog. “Grant, stop it.” Grant shoved Shane again. Shane stumbled back slightly. The dog growled again. Primal anger coiled Shane’s muscles and she caught a feral gleam flashing through his eyes. How much longer before his bestial side

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erupted? She didn’t have long to wait. With surprising speed Grant swung his fist, aiming for Shane’s jaw. Shane ducked. The dog jumped into the fray, grabbing Grant’s pant leg and pulling, her teeth bared, growling low in her throat. “Grant! Stop it!” Emma reached for Grant’s arm. Ignoring the dog, he swung backwards with the arm she gripped, shoving her so hard she landed with a hard thump against the unyielding earth. The hair whooshed out of her lungs and her head hit the ground. The world swirled around her and threatened to go black.

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Chapter 5 EMMA’S THOUGHTS swirled and dipped, her senses rattled. She heard a grunt and a curse and the sound of feet shuffling. With effort she pulled herself up onto her elbows and watched as Shane reached for Grant and twisted the neck of his T-shirt up with one hand. “Charlie, down!” Shane yelled at the dog. The Lab immediately retreated, but remained watchful, baring her teeth and growling. Grant struggled, swinging out, aiming for Shane’s stomach. Shane moved back and his hat fell to the ground. He doubled up his other fist and landed a sucker punch to Grant’s midsection. She heard Grant gasp and he dropped to his knees, his eyes wide. Shane let go of Grant’s shirt and stood over him, his feet planted apart, his stance rigid and ready for action. “Don’t you ever, ever touch Emma again, you son-of-a-bitch,” Shane snarled, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. The deep, unmistakable threat convinced her that if Grant touched her again, Shane would disable him without hesitation. Grant sucked in air like a floundering fish, hands on his thighs, his head hanging low. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out but a gasp. Emma stared at Grant, stupefied by the events of the last few seconds. The dog stopped growling, and Shane turned away from Grant and came toward her. The deep concern reflected in his eyes pushed away all her fear. He

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knelt by her side as she pushed her way into a sitting position. He put his arm around her shoulders. “Are you all right?” he asked softly, glancing at her and then at Grant, who continued to gulp for air. She nodded, well aware of the pitching and rolling in her stomach, but unwilling to tell him about it. She soaked his strength up like a comforting blanket. Worry etched his face. “Are you sure? Renewed ire bubbled up at what had happened. Men had been fighting over her, for God’s sake. How ridiculous. “I’m fine.” As she started to get up, he assisted her the rest of the way. He kept his arm around her. “Take it slow.” She moved from his solicitous grip and stared at both of the men with thinly veiled exasperation. Grant regained his breath and slowly stood upright, his face red, animosity narrowing his already small eyes. He threw nervous glances at the dog. “Looks like you need a break, Wilder,” Shane said, his tone low and flat. Grant bent over to pick up his baseball cap, then turned and headed for his RV. “I think it’s about time the police heard about this mess.” Shane crossed his arms, as disdainful as a teacher reprimanding a recalcitrant child. “Go right ahead, Wilder.” “This is ridiculous,” she said, following Grant. “Let’s talk this out.” Grant opened the driver’s side of the RV and got inside, slamming the door. “There’s nothing more to talk about.”

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Emma gripped the door, looked at him through the open window and pulled off her hat. “Yes, there is. Don’t bring the law into this. We are on his land.” She glanced at Shane as he pet his dog. She lowered her voice almost to a whisper. “He has the right to kick us off if he wants.” Grant scowled and started the engine. “I’m filing a complaint. He attacked me and so did his damned dog.” He spat out a string of curses she’d never head him use. He glared through the windshield at Shane, who stood at the edge of the pit, his arms crossed, watching them. “I’ll be damned if he gets away with ruining our project.” Emma shook her head, her ire increasing. “Grant, you started the fight with him. The dog was only protecting her master. What did you expect?” He put the RV into drive. “Obviously you sympathize with his line of thinking, so you can stay here or not. I don’t care. If I were you, I’d give some thought about where you’re going to be employed next.” Before she could ask what he meant, he gunned the RV, working his way around Shane’s truck, and with a roar of the engine he traveled down the road. Staring after him, a million tumultuous feelings warred for space in her overloaded psyche. The importance of the site faded into the background. A pounding ache started in her temples, and as the implications of his words penetrated, a dull twinge snaked through her joints. Shane remained immobile, arms crossed over his chest, his expression indefinable. His hat remained on the ground, dirt marring the black surface. Charlie nosed Emma’s sunglasses which had fallen off when she’d landed on her backside. “Leave those alone, girl,” Shane said to the dog, reaching down for the glasses and handing them to Emma.

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She hooked them into the neck of her shirt. “I hope you’re satisfied.” “I’m satisfied Wilder will never pull a stunt like that again.” “There was no excuse for fighting.” He smirked. “No excuse? You’re damned right. It pissed me off that he shoved me, but I could have let that go. But there was no excuse for him hitting you.” She knew he was right. Even after Grant had shoved Shane twice and swung at him, Shane hadn’t gone after Grant until Grant had pushed her to the ground. Still, she couldn’t believe Grant meant to harm her. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to work out the dull throb in her muscles. “It was an accident.” “Right,” he said sarcastically. “He knew you were there and he pushed you to the ground.” “And you wouldn’t have done the same thing?” He bristled. “No. Wilder’s a defensive, immature bastard.” “Just like you’ve been incredibly mature and helpful with our excavation.” His vexation seemed to expand as he closed his eyes, then opened them and looked into the distance for several seconds before looking back at her. “Do you have to work at being this much of a pain in the ass or does it come to you naturally?” Emma gaped at him, astonished. She rearranged her baseball cap on her head, turned away and headed for the Explorer. “Wait,” he called out.

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She continued walking. His stride was a lot faster than hers and he stopped in front of her. “I said wait.” She crossed her arms. “Why should I?” He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “Would it help if I said I’m sorry?” “What?” “I said, I’m sorry.” She read regret in his eyes and the firm line of his lips had softened. She had an irrational urge to reach up and tangle her fingers in the blue sheen of his black hair and pull him to her for a kiss. Instead she shoved the preposterous thought away. When she said nothing, he reached out to clasp her shoulders. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?” “I told you I’m okay,” she said, but there was no force behind her words. It was difficult to assign the role of bad guy to him when he showed concern and when the heat of his hands kept her from toppling over. He caressed her shoulders and the tenderness in the gesture, his warm touch, eased some tightness from her muscles. “No, you’re not all right,” he said. “You’re going to ache something awful in the morning.” “How do you know? Do you get into fights frequently?” He stiffened and released her shoulders, a disturbance moving over his features like a storm roaring over the mountains. “If he’d kept his hands off you, I wouldn’t have fought him.” “Thank you for being concerned,” she said softly.

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She didn’t want to be grateful to him, so she walked toward the pit, stopping to scan the area where Grant had been working. The dental tools remained where he’d dropped them. His shoes crunched rocks under his feet. When he reached her, she turned to face him. “I’m sorry I’ve been a pain in the ass.” “Wilder is the one I’m upset with.” He ran a hand through his hair, scattering it until it looked like it had been twisted in a mini tornado. “You acted like an adult. Which is a lot more than I can say for him.” His compliment pleased her, but she wished it didn’t. She didn’t want any of the praise and concern he’d shown her because then she might start to like the feeling. And she’d been determined from the beginning not to like him. She could be a friend with a man, but with Shane she had a feeling being friends wouldn’t be enough. Perhaps damn right impossible. When she didn’t respond he said, “Why don’t you stop for the day and come back to the house. It’s almost time for lunch and you need a rest.” The nausea had abated and thought of food sounded delicious. She had an equal duty to the work at the site. “Thanks, but I’ve got lunch in my car. I need to get back to work.” She brushed some dust off her right sleeve. “If I’m going to be done in a week.” “Without Wilder?” “Without him. Your uncle expects us to complete this project, and I won’t disappoint him.” “He’d understand if you didn’t want to continue.” “You mean you’d understand.” She felt a spike of anger. “I don’t give up on projects when there’s a little

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difficulty.” When he said nothing, she pressed onward. “Or is that what you’d hoped? That I’d buckle under the pressure and give up?” She couldn’t read the granite in his eyes. He put his hands on his hips. “This isn’t a little difficulty. Your boss wigged out on you. And there are other complications you don’t understand.” “Really? Then why don’t you explain?” “I can’t.” “Fine.” She turned back toward the pit. “Then I’m staying until I finish the job. And I’ll finish it with or without Grant.” He nodded. “Then I’m staying to help.” Reluctantly she accepted the idea. Getting rid of him didn’t seem to be an option. “All right.” “I brought a lunch with me.” He gestured over to a small copse of trees. “We can eat in the shade of those trees.” After she fetched lunch and water from the Explorer, Emma wandered over to the trees and sat in the shade. The dog followed her and settled next to her. Tentatively she reached out to caress the dog’s silky head, and she received a quick lick on the hand. “She likes you.” Shane walked toward Emma, toting a small picnic basket. He eased down beside her. Automatically she shifted to make room under the trees. “A kiss from Charlie means she thinks you’re cool.” “She’s quite a watch dog.” She caressed the dog’s back. “I thought ‘Charlie’ was your girlfriend or your wife.”

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“I’m not married.” He grinned and held her gaze. “And I prefer blondes to brunettes.” Emma’s breath hitched in her throat, a blush flowing up her throat and into her face. “I see,” she said when she could get the words out without her voice cracking. He chuckled and the deep, husky sound sent a stirring deep into her belly, where it immediately spread downward. His chiseled lips and mischievous eyes left her feeling short-winded, but she returned his smile. He opened his picnic basket and brought out a dog bone for Charlie. When he tossed it to Charlie, she caught it cleanly in her sharp teeth and settled next to Emma to chew on the snack. Emma watched as he got out a sturdy plastic plate, plastic utensils, a small container of potato salad, a large submarine sandwich and a couple pieces of fruit. Her own lunch was minuscule in comparison. “A feast,” she said. “I’ve tried limiting lunch to a sandwich but discovered that by the time I arrived home at night I’d be starving.” He helped himself to half the sub sandwich and a generous helping of potato salad. With a hard, masculine body like his, he must get plenty of exercise. “I imagine a guy like you would need to eat quite a bit to keep moving.” “A guy like me?” He lifted one brow. She took a swig of water before she responded. “Um...a large man.” “Yeah, I’ve found I’ve got quite an appetite,” he drawled, his gaze drifting over her face, her breasts, and down her legs in one languorous sweep. Whether he meant his words to have a double meaning she didn’t know, but it fired her imagination. Oh, yes.

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She could envision well his sexual appetite. Voracious. Insatiable. A silky tremor slid through her body as she visualized how he might make love to a woman. A few seconds into the fantasy her skin flushed, and she had to swallow hard. Somehow she knew he’d be exquisitely tender, but ruthlessly passionate. Shane O’Donnell would make love like a man on mission, and he wouldn’t stop until he’d searched every avenue...fulfilled every need. He’d kiss with devastating thoroughness until breathing became rapid. He’d lavish attention on her breasts and other regions that demanded attention. Each stroke would bring the greatest pleasure until— Whoa. Back up the truck, Emma. Part of her knew her reaction to him stemmed from age-old cave man and cave woman mentality. When a man displayed his protective instincts, it set off primitive reactions and needs within the woman. Shane had tapped into dormant threads in Emma she hadn’t explored for years. Her fantasy didn’t mean anything earth-shattering. With effort she got back to more serious thoughts. She ought to be more worried about her job. If she took Grant seriously, she’d be without a position after this excavation was completed or maybe even before. She couldn’t expect a recommendation letter from him. Grant was respected in Colorado archaeology, and it would be his word against hers. The sobering thought nagged at her as she ate. Crows flew over the area and cawed, and a light, hot breeze brushed through the trees., caressing her face like a lover. The peace soothed her. Shane finished his sandwich and potato salad before he spoke again. “I think you should be cautious around Wilder.”

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She looked at him sharply. “Cautious?” “Has he ever manhandled you like that before?” “It depends on what you mean by manhandled. If you mean has he ever pushed me to the ground, no.” She waited for him to say something more. He just stared at her. Distinctly uncomfortable with his steady, unwavering gaze, she lost her appetite and stuffed the rest of her sandwich back in her lunch bag. “If you’re trying to make me uncomfortable, you’ve succeeded.” His brows lifted. “That’s an interesting coming from you, Emma. You’re not easily frazzled.” “True.” “Then why are you afraid of me?” “I’m not afraid of you.” Of course she lied; deep inside she acknowledged he frightened her the way no man had ever scared her. He shoved aside the hamper. “Actually I don’t blame you for being scared of me. Lots of people are. I’ve got the Sadie Cutley complex.” “What on earth is the Sadie Cutley complex?” He drew his legs up and loosely linked his arms around his knees, grasping one wrist in the other hand. The dark hair on his arms and his large, well-shaped hands appealed to her. Everything about him seemed solid and dependable. She waited patiently for him to speak. He looked into the distance. “Sadie was a hermit.” “Yes, but you’re not.”

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“Doesn’t matter. I spend a lot of time alone. Some people think liking to be alone is abnormal, like a disease. Like Sadie I’ve found that people are a lot less interesting than my land.” “According to legend people rarely saw Sadie off her land. She seldom came into Gambit Creek for provisions. You certainly don’t isolate yourself that much.” “No. But I’ve been tempted.” She wondered what had turned him toward such introspection, such alienation. “You go out a lot?” he asked. “No. I have friends in archaeological circles, but we don’t socialize much.” She shrugged. He appraised her indolently. “I’d think you’d have a lot of men knocking at your door.” He certainly didn’t mind coming right to the point. Emma rarely dated and men didn’t usually pursue her. She remembered Grant’s embrace and shuddered slightly. “I’ve been very busy the last few years getting my masters and then working in the field.” “Your job is the most important thing to you.” “You could say that.” “What about family?” It took her a long time to answer. “Just my parents.” “An only child. That explains all that ambition.” “I wasn’t an only child.” She couldn’t catch herself quickly enough to keep from saying the words. “I had a brother, Doug.”

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His brow furrowed slightly. “Had?” She shifted, uncomfortable, feeling old pain rise like clouds over the ridge. “He’s dead.” Genuine sympathy came into his eyes. “I’m sorry.” She swallowed hard. “It was a very long time ago.” She half-expected him to probe further but when he didn’t relief flooded her. It was difficult enough to acknowledge Doug’s death, but the memories of why he was dead were far more agonizing to relive. She shrugged off the sadness and anger that always pricked her heart like a needle when she thought about Doug and her parents. Think about something else. With Shane so close it wasn’t as difficult as she imagined. As he leaned back on his elbows and stretched his long legs out, she fixated on the superbly formed length of his sinewy thighs. No man had a right to look so damned good. “What do you do for entertainment when the ranch takes up so much of your time?” “Ride my horse in the mountains and enjoy the outdoors. Or maybe sit under a tree and read a good book.” “You like to read?” “Don’t sound so surprised. I read the Wall Street Journal, Range magazine, some early American history journals, and lots of science fiction.” She realized that she’d been guilty of doing to him what had been done to Sadie in her time. Categorizing. Stereotyping. She’d put him in a little box labeled ‘brute and brawny’. Emma crossed her legs Indian style. “My history and archaeology books are my most prized possessions. My

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father is an archaeologist and he used to say ‘Sweet Pie, you’ll go to your grave reading a history book.’” His lips turned up slightly. “So you followed your father around and learned how to be an archaeologist?” She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs. “No, I’m afraid father had other ideas about what I should be doing.” Shane’s brow creased. “Was he afraid you’d get hurt if you went on a dig with him?” “He thought I should be a history teacher for grade school kids.” “Why?” “Father is from the old school that says women are decorative and useful as long as they don’t get in a man’s way. He’s always had a low opinion of the women archaeologists he worked with.” He made a sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “Obviously you showed him differently.” She nodded, but didn’t elaborate. She didn’t believe in revealing truckloads of personal information to virtual strangers. “Sweet Pie,” he said huskily, laying on his side and supporting his head in his palm. “I think I like the sound of that.” She wished she’d kept her mouth closed. Even remembering her father’s former nickname for her created a bitter taste in her mouth. No one outside her family knew about the name or that her father had stopped calling her that after Doug had died. When she didn’t speak, he reached into the hamper and pulled out an apple, then took a big bite. Charlie looked at him expectantly and he tossed her another dog biscuit. “Okay, girl. That’s all you get for now.”

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As she sat in companionable silence with Shane, Emma wanted to ask him more about his life, about why he found nature and animals far more interesting than friends and dating. About why he’d been intent on protecting her from Grant. Thunder disconnected her stream of thought. The brilliant, intense blue of the sky was broken along the west by thunderheads. “Damn,” she muttered. He stopped crunching his apple long enough to respond. “What’s wrong?” “It’s going to rain.” “Then I guess you’d better show me the site before all hell breaks loose,” he said, gathering up the hamper. While he went to his rusty truck, she stayed under the trees, unwilling to break the cocoon of her relaxation. She couldn’t recall when she’d last felt so carefree. It made no sense considering what had happened so far that day. Shane approached and she reached over to caress one of Charlie’s silky ears. Maybe if she didn’t look at Shane she’d forget how he walked or the way his gaze burned her deep inside with a strange need she tried unsuccessfully to ignore. He reached out to help her up. “We’d better get to it.” Without hesitating Emma took his hand. It was warm, slightly callused, and a lot bigger than her thin hand. He hauled her to her feet. The unexpected momentum took her off balance and she tipped toward him. He automatically grasped her waist to steady her. Her palms pressed to his chest and the heat of his body teased her

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fingers. Startled by the sudden familiarity, she looked up at him. She reached to clasp his forearms, as if she could pry his grip away. “What are you doing?” Her voice sounded breathless to her own ears, and she saw Shane’s eyes had gone stormy, just as the clouds above them darkened with each passing moment. His lips parted slightly, as if he might answer. Instead his blatant stare devoured, took stock. For the umpteenth time that day her cheeks reddened. He released her waist so his hands could take up residence on her back and press her closer. Her hands went to his biceps and she experienced the hard muscles under her fingers. She parted her lips, but words wouldn’t form. Her breath seized in her chest, her heart fluttering quickly. Without further warning his lips crushed down on hers, shutting out all but one sensation. Burning need. She couldn’t remember Grant’s kiss. Perhaps it was the clear and unmistakable power of Shane’s lips. They moved on hers passionately, without restraint. It was if he’d a right to kiss her and had done so before. A thousand times before. And would a million times more. With this heady allurement came other sensations she couldn’t dismiss. Emma inhaled his scent, breathing in his special musk, the tantalizing freshness of soap. The solid steel of his strong chest crushed her breasts, his thighs pressed against her. The instant proof of his desire shocked her and sent a spiral of arousal deep into her

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belly. His tongue caressed her lips with a fervor that added to the sharp tingles of pleasure that raced through her body in every direction. He pressed her closer, tighter against him. Excitement hardened her nipples and darted with sharp intensity throughout her body. A soft moan escaped her throat, and he gentled his kiss, languidly caressing. A part of her mind shrieked at her to take control. But Shane’s embrace was unique. Wonderful. Carnal. Erotic. Somewhere along the way she realized that her fingers had tangled in the thick softness of his hair. She opened her mouth more fully to him and he took the invitation. Plunging into her mouth, Shane met her tongue and stroked her with a sensuous, flagrantly sexual dance. Thunder rumbled, this time close and threatening. Emma surfaced into reality as if cold water had been dumped over her head. She pulled her lips from his, surging back against his arms so that he released her abruptly. She took a shuddering breath as she moved several paces back from him, and her heart hammered in her chest. Shane’s expression looked hot and needful. Almost dazed. His breath came quickly, but his expressive eyes cleared into a more wary, watchful condition. As if the force had almost overwhelmed him.

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“Emma,” he said softly, deeply. She put her hands to her face and felt the heat radiate from her skin. She swallowed hard and dropped her hands. “We’d better hurry if you want to look at the excavation before the rain,” she said. She rushed toward the site without looking back. “WOULD YOU LOOK at that?” The tall man in the double-breasted suit adjusted his binoculars with his long, elegant fingers. “What are they doing now?” asked the other man, shorter and dressed far less formally. He twisted the hem of his T-shirt and used it for a towel. His hands were sweaty and his torso sticky from the hot sun glazing onto the canyon ridge. The thin man barked a laugh. “They were kissing.” “What?” The shorter man reached for the binoculars, but the bigger man wrenched them back. “They’ve stopped and now they’re going to the pit.” The short man put his hands on his hips, his lips drawing back with a snarl. He cursed vehemently. Dropping the binoculars to his side, the tall man glared and sighed in exasperation. “Get control. Have patience.” The shorter man glanced at his urbane partner and began to pace. “We’ve waited too damn long as it is. What we really need to do is get the job over and get the hell out of Gambit Creek.” The suited man lifted the binoculars and looked at the woman and man below with interest. “As soon as they

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leave and we’ve given them sufficient time to get out of the area we’ll move in.” His gaze centered on the woman’s slim body, and he licked his lips. “Mmmm...mmm. She’s a piece of work.” Pacing back to his vehicle, the impatient man turned the full force of his glare on his more genteel-looking partner. “She’s not going to be here much longer. You promised me that when you got what you came for that you’d leave her to me.” Instead of lowering the binoculars to gaze on his friend, the tall man drawled, “Oh, don’t you worry. When we get done she’ll be all yours. All yours.”

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Chapter 6 AS EMMA explained the phases of the excavation to Shane in detail, he discovered part way through her explanation that he couldn’t absorb a thing she said. He was too busy remembering the way her breasts and hips felt pressed against him. Each time she glanced at him the sea-green depths in her eyes mesmerized him, and the way wisps of her gold-spun hair had fallen from her braid. He felt like a nineteen-year-old again dealing with relentless arousal. He kicked himself every step of the way for letting things get out of hand. Or in hand, depending how he looked at it. When he’d helped her to her feet he hadn’t intended to kiss her. But when she’d stumbled forward he’d found the touch of her fingers on his arms enticing and the feel of her body too much to resist. “As I’ve explained to your aunt and uncle, Grant and I initially did a sweep of the area and marked artifacts that were lying in a scatter. We used pin flags.” She showed him the thin, flexible metal sticks with red and blue flags attached to one end. “If we were surveying a site where archaic finds might be made, we’d mark petrified wood that had obviously been chipped off a larger piece with a red flag. The blue flags are normally used to mark an actual artifact such as a knife, scraper, or any other tool native peoples may have used.” “But you’ve only found evidence of historic occupation here,” he said. “Yes...I’m...” She stopped and stared at him. She gave him a tentative smile. “I’m sorry. I’ve gone off on a tangent. We’re supposed to be talking about Sadie’s cabin and I’m veering off into totally irrelevant areas.”

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As Emma continued talking about the site, Shane’s mind drifted to the way she’d responded to his embrace. She’d moved out of his arms before he’d wanted to release her, but he was gratified by the way she’d warmed, kissing him hotly and starting a conflagration that coursed deep in his blood. Physically she was womanly, curved, and sweet to look at. Yet he’d sensed a hesitation, an unwillingness to let herself go, to take his passion and match it with her own. When she’d let loose, she’d confirmed his suspicion that behind her cool exterior hid a woman with a passion that might burn him to a cinder. He’d also noted her reluctance to tell him about her family, about the brother who’d died, and the tension between father and daughter. With startling force he realized he wanted to know more about her. But if he didn’t pay attention to what Emma said now she would notice, and then she’d be mad at him again. And the more angry she was, the more the rest of her seemed to block off, to withdraw. Luckily for him, she rattled on about initial contour surveys, leveling, ranging rods, plumb bobs, and running a base line. He managed to drag his attention away from his sexual appetite and simply listened to her. His admiration of her knowledge grew. Unfortunately, her intelligence aroused him as much as her body. Perturbed, he shoved away thoughts of having her in his arms. It was all physical, nothing more. He thought about Carmelita’s betrayal and his reaction to her deception. A surge of guilt slammed through him and the painful memories bit sharp and blinding. He shoved the memory aside. He wouldn’t let beauty and brains get to him again. “Here you can see the area where the cabin sat,” she said, dropping the bundle a pin flags and leading the way toward the crumbled fireplace. She patted the dappled brick. “Grant and I had planned on excavating this area next

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week.” He could hear the underlying tension in her words. He might have acted too hastily in ordering Wilder and Emma to finish the excavation in a week. But after the incident with Grant today, he was convinced that things had to be wrapped up. “What about your test excavation? You haven’t found anything close to resembling a treasure, have you?” “No. The initial scatter of objects may be misleading.” Emma chewed her lower lip and his gaze focused on that tender flesh. He remembered how it felt to sample her lips...warm...soft, and tender. She broke his fantasy when she knelt by the pit and looked at the spot Grant had been working on earlier. “What is it?” Emma didn’t answer right away and he knelt down next to her, automatically placing a hand on her back. She flinched as if he’d burned her, her eyes wide. He removed his hand. He had no one to blame but himself for her jumpiness. If he’d been smart he’d have kept his hands off her completely. Instead he’d thrown caution away on the gusting wind that now swirled about the ground, stirring up dust devils. “Maybe he put it in a bag and labeled it,” she said. “Put what in a bag?” She pointed to a small depression in the dirt. “Just before you arrived, Grant was working on something in this corner.” “Obviously he extracted something,” he said, suspicion skewering him like a knitting needle.

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She shifted on her knees over to two small brown paper bags sitting next to the pit. “He may have put whatever he found in a bag and didn’t have time to tell me.” She picked up one bag. “We label each bag with the exact location of where artifacts were found. This one is a soil sample.” She looked into the other bag. “This one is a nail.” “Not exactly great loot.” “And not whatever it was that he found in that depression.” Her lips compressed in a frown. Anger tightened Shane’s stomach. “I thought you said you weren’t collectors?” Her forehead creased as she frowned, and as Emma stood, she rubbed her hands on her jeans. “We’re not collectors. It’s against the ethics of our profession.” He stood. “Then why didn’t he label what he found and store it in a bag?” “He probably forgot about it when you arrived. Maybe he stuffed the item in his pocket.” He wanted to believe Grant’s negligence could be accidental, but he didn’t trust the man. “And maybe he wanted to keep it for himself.” Charlie barked, startling them both. The dog had been wandering the area, teasing some grasshoppers. She trotted up to Shane and sat down. She looked up at the ridge to the north and a low growl rumbled deep in her throat. Emma’s expression went wary. “What is she barking at?” Shane didn’t like it one bit. He put his hand on the snarling dog’s back. “What is it, girl?” She whined, then stopped her growling long enough to look at him.

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Thunder rolled in the canyon and he realized that the sun had completely disappeared behind a towering thunderhead. Lightning split the sky over the mountains, thunder following quickly behind. She quickly collected the brown bags and tools. “It’s going to pour and I haven’t put anything away.” Immediately he helped her haul equipment into the back of her vehicle. Before they’d made much progress, rain burst from the clouds and pelted them with large drops. He tossed his hat through the open window of his truck. Charlie growled again, pacing as she gazed toward the north ridge. A sick feeling lodged in Shane’s stomach, and his urgency to leave elevated to another level. Danger seemed to crackle in the air with a spark more lethal than the lightning. “Emma, come on.” She attempted to lift one of the heavy buckets full of soil and he ran over to her. “What are you doing? Let’s get out of here.” “I’ve got to put this somewhere out of the rain,” she said anxiously. “No, you don’t.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward his truck. “We’ve got to leave now.” Concern marred her features. “The tarp isn’t down over the pit. It’ll ruin the site.” He sighed with exasperation and quickly helped her cover the site with the tarp, securing the edges with rocks. “Come on,” he said, latching onto her arm. “I’m not going with you!” she shouted over the wind, which had now increased to a gale. “I’ve got my car.” “Then hurry,” he said, walking so fast toward the vehicles that she had to trot to keep up with him.

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“But—” “Follow me to the house.” Thunder heralded a fresh downpour of rain. Cold water trickled down his face and soaked through his clothes. Charlie jumped into the truck when Shane opened the door, commandeering a good portion of the front seat. Emma got into her Explorer, cold and miserable. Water dripped from her hair in rivulets down her back and she shivered with a combination of chill and nervousness. Losing her job was reason enough to be anxiety ridden, and being with this man, possibly alone in his house, gave her a second reason. Yet something else nagged her. She sensed Shane’s urgency to leave the area had little to do with wanting escape the raging storm. Also, Charlie had growled as if something or someone lingered just out of sight. Then again, she supposed the dog could be afraid of the storm. She recalled her own subtle feeling from time to time that someone watched her. Her worries multiplied and when her temples resumed their throbbing, she knew her stress level had gone too high. She took a couple of deep breaths and let them out slowly. Shoving aside worry, she concentrated on staying close behind Shane’s truck. The rain had turned into a pure frog-strangler and visibility reduced to a minimum. After a bumpy fifteen-minute ride, they arrived at a cluster of buildings. Through the driving rain, she could see Shane’s log dwelling. Outbuildings clustered behind the house, including a large blue barn. He jumped out of his truck, Charlie close behind, and Emma left her vehicle at a run and dashed with him to a side door. As soon as he opened the door and they scrambled inside, Charlie shook her body, spraying them with

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more water. “Charlie!” Shane bellowed. “Stop!” The dog halted her shimmy immediately, an almost human pout crossing her doggy features. Charlie walked over to a large, round dog bed in the corner of the room and sank down. Charlie shared the room with a huge freezer, a washer and a dryer and sundry utility items such as brooms, brushes, and garden tools. Shane grinned, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I guess we’d better get out of these clothes.” He reached down to yank off his boots, then pulled his T-shirt from the waistband of his jeans and drew it over his head. He used the shirt to wipe moisture off his chest and arms. Emma stood absolutely still, contemplating for a moment what he had in mind. She had difficulty keeping her gaze off that wide expanse of masculinity. Dark hair sprinkled generously over his muscled pectorals and tapered down his stomach and disappeared into his jeans. Obviously he took his physical conditioning seriously. She noted a long scar across his right side under his ribs and wondered what mishap had created it. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan to strip buck naked in front of you.” He slanted a quick glance in her direction. “Unless, of course, you want me to.” She was speechless. The man would drive her crazy yet, with his combination of rugged looks and sensual innuendo. “What? In front of the dog?” She asked with a slight smile as she reached down and removed her soggy hiking boots and socks. He cocked an eyebrow and looked at Charlie, who gazed back at him with soft brown eyes. “I don’t think she’d be jealous. Would you, girl?”

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Charlie’s ears perked up. “See,” he said. “She likes the idea.” Emma barely held back a snort of laughter. She felt like she’d landed on a carnival ride that had careened off track. It couldn’t be a smart idea to be alone with this man. Although she found the playful banter a nice contrast to their more regular snipes, she didn’t want to get too comfortable. “We need to talk about the future of the excavation,” she said. He shrugged. “What’s there to talk about? You’ve got one week.” “You don’t honestly expect me to leave it at that, do you?” “Yeah, I do.” “Why can’t you tell me what’s going on? And don’t try and tell me something isn’t happening.” For several seconds he stared at her, frowning deeply. “Can we talk about this after we’ve had a shower? I’m freezing, and from the way you’re shivering, I’d say you were, too.” A vision of them together in a shower, her hands lathering soap all over him, popped into her mind. “I’m not showering with you.” He grinned. “I didn’t mean we’d shower together.” Heat flooded her cheeks. His grin widened and he took a step toward her. “But now that you mention it—” She stepped back. “Never mind. Point me in the direction of the towels. I’ll be fine.” “Follow me.” As they went through the kitchen, she glanced at the huge room and noted the rustic elements.

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In the dining area, a large oak wood square table dominated the room. It could easily seat eight people plus, and the gnarled wood chairs looked heavy and well-worn. The appliances looked new and the oak-stained cabinets were pretty. They crossed into the living room, an immense, high ceilinged area with exposed beams. She got a quick look at the enormous, low, rock fireplace, cozy brown leather sofas, wing back chairs, a wagon wheel chandelier, and braided rugs on the hard wood floor. She liked the Old West look and feel, and realized that it suited Shane’s personality. Unrepentantly masculine. “I’ll use the shower in the guest bathroom,” he said as he led her down a hall and past a couple of bedrooms. “You can use my shower.” Use his shower. It sounded intimate. Intriguing. When they entered his bedroom, the familiarity factor rose. A king-size bed swallowed up a lot of the room, as did a huge dresser, and a bookcase. He opened the connecting bathroom door and she stopped cold in her tracks. She had expected to see a utilitarian room, the type of no-nonsense bathroom you’d see in a rough setting. Instead the room contained a colossal marble shower and a whirlpool tub easily big enough for two. A quick vision of her and Shane in the bathtub flashed into her mind. Lord, Emma. You are losing your mind. A tiny panic welled in her. “Take a shower and get warmed up,” he said. “Or if you like, you can soak in the tub. It’ll take away the sore muscles.” She spoke just to quell her trepidation. “I never would have expected a bathroom like this. I mean a huge tub

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and shower.” He grinned again, but this time his expression was closer to the predatory male she’d seen right before he’d kissed her. “I know this tub doesn’t really fit with the rest of the house. But it was my fantasy, so I indulged it.” Fantasy. Yep. This room indulged her fantasies, too. Unfortunately. He’d grabbed two fluffy towels on the way to his room and he handed them to her. As she reached for the towels her gaze centered on his chest, heightening her awareness of him as solidly, and irrefutably masculine. She snatched the towels out of his hand and closed the bathroom door behind her. She leaned on the door for a moment and realized that her heart fluttered and her stomach jumped nervously. She thought she heard him chuckle, and then the bedroom door closed. Stripping away her soaked clothes, she hung them over the shower door and began to dry her hair with a towel. She thought about this strange situation. This morning she’d never have guessed she’d be in Shane’s house, let alone bathing here. But then she hadn’t expected to be threatened by Grant physically, nor had she foreseen concern from a man like Shane. She’d contemplated her circumstances for well over fifteen minutes when a knock sounded on the door. She jumped and dropped the towel on the floor. “Emma?” She grabbed another towel and wrapped it securely around her body. “Yes?” “I’ve got a proposition for you.” “I’m afraid to ask.”

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“If you’ll pass me your wet clothes I can put them in the dryer. I’ll pass you a robe.” She half wished he’d made her another proposition. Like coming into the bathroom and sharing that sinful tub with her. She bit her lip and closed her eyes in exasperation. She had to get a grip on these erotic thoughts. Making sure the towel stayed secure around her, she retrieved her damp clothes, then padded over to the door and opened it. Dressed in a dry pair of jeans and a green T-shirt, he appeared refreshed. Locks of his black hair were still damp, and the usual disarray made her wish she could finger comb them into place for about the millionth time. Again, she resisted the urge. Shane’s gaze swept her thoroughly as he held the robe out to her. Then he took note of the clothes she’d handed him and his touch lingered on the red, lacy bra and matching panties. He rubbed one of the satin bra cups between his fingers. Emma could feel that caress in her own body and she imagined his fingers on her breasts, caressing her nipples. The vivid fantasy sent a sensual shock through her. “Red lace,” he said huskily. “I never would have guessed. I imagined you’d like to wear plain white cotton. Very utilitarian.” “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” She kept her expression nonchalant. The idea of discussing her penchant for saucy underwear was a topic she didn’t want to discuss with him. Even more disturbing was the idea he’d given any thought at all to her underwear preference. Very unnerving. Especially when he watched her like...that. With hot, simmering boldness that did funny things to her breath, and weakened her knees and her resolve.

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“I’ll go make some coffee,” he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. She nodded and closed the door, feeling naked and vulnerable. Once she’d bundled into the heavy flannel robe, she felt more secure. The warmth and the scent on the soft material reminded her of Shane. She came out of the bedroom in time to hear him talking in low tones on a phone in the living room close to the end of the hall. She halted. “I don’t like the way this is going any better than you. But we’ve got to keep up the charade awhile longer.” A deep suspicion rose within her, and with it a kernel of fear took root and began to grow. “No,” he said. “I didn’t explain. Charlie started growling right before the rain came but it sure as hell wasn’t the storm she was growling at.” Emma almost confronted him right then, but decided to wait and see if the conversation became more specific. “No. She doesn’t know anything. And she isn’t going to find anything out as long as we do this right. I’m beginning to think she isn’t in on it. Yeah, he was there today. It’s a long story. Look I’d like to talk about this but she’s in the house. Can I call you later?” Afraid he’d find her skulking in the hall, she darted back to his room and closed the door softly. She was about to open the door again, this time much louder, when a photograph on his dresser caught her attention. She walked over and lifted the black and white photo. Surrounded by a heavy, dark wood frame, the eight-by-ten showed a young woman with dark hair and a round face sitting in a chair cradling a baby in her arms. Behind the woman was a handsome man in a suit and tie, his short dark hair neat. His hands clasped the young woman’s

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shoulders, his expression proud and aloof. Shane’s parents? The man’s resemblance to Shane couldn’t be denied, but she saw something cold and hard in the man’s eyes. Shane tried to be cool and distant, and usually he succeeded. But she’d seen a multitude of emotions cross his face. Anger. Exasperation. Concern. Maybe even gentleness. Passion. The bedroom door opened and she jerked in surprise as she hastily put down the photograph. It tipped and fell over, and Emma gasped, horrified that she might have broken the frame. She quickly righted the photograph and saw it was unharmed. “What do you think you are doing?” Shane asked, his gaze raking over her as he walked into the bedroom. “I’m sorry. I saw this photo and—” “Thought you’d be nosy?” He’d caught her red-handed, but a perversity within her wouldn’t allow her to admit fault. “It’s a beautiful photo. Who are they?” He picked up the photograph, anger reflected in the stiffness of his face and body. “My parents. And me.” “You look like a very happy family.” He snorted in derision. “Look is the operative word. Don’t believe everything you see.” “You weren’t happy?” “Maybe we were. Once.” Moved by the tumult behind his carefully-controlled words, she gave in to the temptation to discover more.

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“But not always.” He shrugged and started toward the bedroom door. “What family is?” His words caught Emma squarely in the solar plexus. What family is? She’d fooled herself for years thinking her family life could be called idyllic. A warm, happy place she could retreat to from outside worries. Maybe that was what hurt the most. Realizing that just because she pretended her family was happy didn’t make it so. A fantasy was a fantasy. “Families are complicated,” she said softly. “Sometimes, like you say, they look carefree on the outside, but on the inside they harbor hate and mistrust.” He turned back to her, his hand resting on the doorknob. He smiled, his grin more sardonic than an expression of mirth. “What do you know about it?” The clipped, sharp words hurt but she resisted the urge to snap back. She wanted to tell him about Doug, about his death and how her parents blamed her. She wanted to explain that she knew about pain within a family more than he’d ever comprehend. But his unbendable stance and the tension humming from him unnerved her. Would he move toward her or away from her? Toward her was definitely scary. More so because she realized she wanted him to touch her again. Wanted his arms around her again, his lips on hers. God, this is absurd. As tempting as having his arms around her sounded, she had to remember that Shane held too many secrets. She wouldn’t give up secrets to a man who held back from her and could potentially be involved in something

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nefarious. “I think I’d better leave,” she said. “You’re clothes aren’t even dry. Where do you think you’re going?” She walked toward him and hoped he’d move away from the door. “Anywhere I damn well please.” He didn’t. “Not in this storm. I listened to the radio a moment ago and they predict it’ll get worse before it gets better. Power and phone lines are down in several areas.” “The rain has almost stopped.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not letting you leave here until it’s safe. The arroyos in the area fill with water, and the dirt roads are often deep with mud.” “I can go back to the hotel.” His gaze narrowed. “You’re jumpy as hell. What’s the matter?” Emma looked around the room, cataloging possible routes of escape. “Nothing is wrong.” She side stepped him and went for the bedroom door. “The rain is letting up. I need to get back to the site and see if it’s been damaged.” “Emma—” He caught up to her in the hall and grabbed her arm. Instinctively she jerked back and Shane released her. “Don’t touch me.” His eyes hardened. “What the hell is wrong with you?” “Just give me my clothes, and I’ll be out of your way.” “I told you, they’re in the dryer. I put your jeans and shirt in first.” He leaned against the wall next to the

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kitchen door. “I almost put your tamale red underwear in with them until I realized they might shrink.” Her mouth popped open but she said nothing. What could she say to a provocative comment like that? She cleared her throat. “Don’t try to argue me out of this. I’ve got to check on the site. The way rain was coming down earlier it probably weighted down the tarp and the rocks may not have held. For all I know the whole pit might be washed out.” He threw his hands up in the air. “And what if it is? What are you going to do? You wouldn’t be able to repair it while it’s still raining.” Emma didn’t give a rat’s ass about logic. She wanted out of his house. She was rescued from answering because at that moment, a knock sounded on the door.

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Chapter 7 SHANE GLANCED out the window and gritted his teeth. A police car sat in his driveway. “I’ll get my clothes,” Emma said, quickly heading for the utility room. Another knock sounded on the door and Shane went to answer. Standing outside the front door was tall, pipe cleaner-thin Officer Hank Reddins. Shane felt like a rock had settled into his stomach. Shane respected the Police Chief of Gambit Creek, but his discussions with Reddins hadn’t been particularly friendly. Reddin’s reached for his brown hat and took it off. “Reddins,” Shane said. “Don’t tell me what you’re here for because I can already guess.” The officer’s frown created deep furrows next to his small mouth. “I got a complaint from Grant Wilder. Says you punched him and that Charlie attacked him.” Shane let Reddins come inside. “Yeah, I punched him. And Charlie grabbed his pants leg. Come in.” Reddins gestured quickly toward the window. “Who owns that Explorer?” Shane shut the door. “Emma Baker. Wilder’s partner.” The officer’s expression sharpen. “What on earth is she doing here?” “We got soaked out at the site and came here to dry off.” Shane thought Reddin’s eyes reflected skepticism and he wondered if the scarecrow of a man would start rumors back in town. Like any little town, Gambit Creek had its share of gossips. He almost laughed. They’d

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proved time and again how much they enjoyed making up crap about him. While that didn’t bother him much, he didn’t like the idea of Emma being dragged into controversy. “Tell me what happened at the excavation,” Officer Reddins said as he sank into a chair by the fireplace, obviously wanting to get right to the point. “And don’t leave anything out.” Shane dropped into a leather recliner and gave him the details. Reddins took methodical notes, stopping to ask more questions and to have him repeat certain parts. Shane had repeated the information where he punched Grant and Charlie had jumped into the fight, when Emma appeared from the hall dressed in her dry jeans and shirt. She’d pulled the braid out of her hair and had combed it. It lay in soft, damp waves over her shoulders. “Emma, this is Officer Hank Reddins. Wilder did as he promised.” Officer Reddins stood and shook hands with her. “Miss Baker, I’d like to speak with you alone about the incident.” Shane slipped out of the chair and started for the back of the house. “Don’t let me stop you. I’ll be outside.” Emma sat on one of the leather sofas and Reddins requisitioned a rocker. He shifted his hat in his hands, then used his knee as a hat rack. His thin, stringy, brown hair defied gravity. He reached up and pushed the recalcitrant hair back into place. “Miss Baker—” “Emma, please.” “Emma.” He smiled, the movement cracking his face into an unattractive mass of wrinkles. “Can you explain what happened at the site today?”

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Slowly she related the incident at the site, and when she finished he looked into the distance and rubbed his chin for several moments before he spoke. “Mr. Wilder says that O’Donnell pushed him.” Emma wished she could get her hands around Grant’s neck for making an international incident out of the situation. “Only after Grant shoved him twice in the chest, and after Grant accidentally pushed me onto the ground.” The police officer frowned and leaned forward in the chair. “O’Donnell claims Mr. Wilder deliberately pushed you.” She shook her head vehemently and shifted on her seat. “In my opinion, both men overreacted. Rather than dealing with Shane in a reasonable manner, Grant was hostile. So...when Grant pushed me down, Shane thought Grant had done it on purpose.” “Wilder said he pushed you out of the way because he thought O’Donnell was coming after you.” “That’s ridiculous. I came up behind Grant and grabbed his arm to pull him back. I was trying to stop him from antagonizing Shane.” Reddins looked away as if pondering the difference in perceptions. Then he said, “O’Donnell said you came back to the ranch house with him to dry off after the rain.” Wary, Emma wondered where the man intended to head with his questioning. “Yes.” “Mr. Wilder’s a little worried for your safety. He was pretty convincing when I spoke with him.” She leaned forward. “There’s nothing for Grant to worry about.” Shane might be hiding something from her about the site, but she didn’t believe he’d harm her physically. Not after the way he’d reacted to Grant pushing her

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down. “I’d be a little more cautious about going somewhere with strange men.” “But Shane’s not a stranger. I mean...” When she faded off Reddins smiled again. Instead of warmth, she saw a keen disbelief reach his eyes. “I’ve seen too many women get in tight spots because they didn’t take steps to protect themselves. Tends to make me sensitive to the issue. I’d remain cautious around here. We may live out in the country but that doesn’t mean there aren’t dangers.” The officer’s intensity piqued her interest. “Are you trying to tell me something about Shane?” “He’s a strange bird. Lots of people around here think he’s hiding something up here on the ranch. Maybe Sadie Cutley’s treasure.” Emma had thought Shane might know something more about Sadie Cutley’s treasure. It would explain the reason why he wanted her off his land. Then again, if he’d already found the treasure, she doubted it would still be anywhere near the dig. So why would he worry about her excavation? She jumped into the fray without thinking. “I heard that he threatened some Chester College students with a rifle when they went to ask him about the possibility of excavation.” He pursed his lips slightly, “I don’t know how much of it’s truth or fiction. I wasn’t here at the time. But it wouldn’t surprise me.” “Is there any way I could find out if it’s true?” “You could ask the Police Chief, but I wouldn’t recommend it. I’m not sure if the Chief would appreciate it,

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and if Shane found out he could make things difficult for you.” “God, I hope not.” Her deadpan smile didn’t produce an answering grin from Reddins. “I wouldn’t advise riling the man. You never know what he might do.” Despite Reddin’s unrelenting skepticism, she had difficulty imagining Shane anything more than arrogant and maybe pushy. But dangerous? She reassessed her opinion of Shane yet again. After that revealing conversation and his reluctance to let her go, she had felt edgy around him. Reddins leaned back in the chair and rocked gently. “So you don’t wish to press charges against Mr. Wilder for pushing you down?” “Of course not. It was all a misunderstanding. Shane gave us an ultimatum of one week to finish the excavation. That’s what is causing all this friction in the first place. Grant lost his cool.” “I’ll talk to Mr. Wilder again and see if he wants to pursue these charges.” “Shane shouldn’t be punished for what happened. I’ll talk to Grant, too. I might be able to get him to back off.” Reddins stood up. “I don’t know. He was pretty riled when he came into the station.” He started to head for the front door, then he turned around to look at her, his small eyes serious. “I’d keep clear of O’Donnell.” As she let him out the front door, she wondered if she was crazy for standing here a moment longer. When the police cruiser pulled out of the driveway, she made a break for it before Shane came back inside. She hastily scribbled Shane a note thanking him for his help and rushed out the front door.

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SHANE CLOSED the barn door and hurried back to the house, pushing the damp hair out of his face. He was soaked again. Yeah, it was nobody’s fault but his own. He’d wanted Reddins to have enough time to question Emma without her feeling pressured to say something she didn’t mean. Fat chance in hell anyone could compel Emma into doing something if she really, really didn’t want to. But he’d give her space. Thinking about Emma brought a fresh desire to kiss her. Their picnic lunch conversation had revealed things about her that he hadn’t expected. He’d enjoyed seeing her reaction when he’d mentioned he liked blondes. He hadn’t intended to be flirtatious, but when he was around her he couldn’t seem to help himself. He could understand Emma not trusting him. Did her misgiving toward him hide innocence, or was she a clever actress? Was she trying to find Sadie’s treasure for the archaeological aspects? Or could she be a part of a larger conspiracy evident to him and to the agency he worked for? If she was innocent, then she was in danger. She had no idea who or what she could be dealing with. As he walked into the utility room, his gaze landed on Emma’s bra and bikini panties hanging on the small clothesline he’d pulled from one wall and hooked to another. He smiled and reached up to finger one bra cup, enjoying the sensation of lace and satin against his skin. The damp material clung to his finger, and he wondered if she liked the touch of cotton against her breasts. These hot numbers, though, were satin and lace. Nothing innocent or sweet. It didn’t take him long to realize that Emma had left the house and the Explorer had disappeared. “Where the hell did you go?” he said to the empty living room.

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Charlie trotted into the living room and looked up at him with innocent chocolate eyes. “Where is she, girl?” Shane asked Charlie. He sighed, cursed. He patted the dog on the back. “Yeah, like you’re going to be able to tell me.” Charlie swiped her tongue on his hand and grinned. Shane saw a small piece of notepaper lying on the coffee table, picked it up and read it. He frowned and then cursed. He went into his bedroom to change, wondering if Emma had gone back to the site even though he’d told her not to. The small respite from the rain had disappeared. Sheets of rain pounded the ground, creating a soupy, muddy mess. She’d be lucky if the Explorer didn’t get stuck in the canyon. As he tugged on dry jeans, a biting worry for Emma’s safety clamped onto his mind. “Stop it,” he mumbled. “She can take care of herself.” She had to be the most obstinate, maddening, pain-in-the-neck woman he’d ever met. “That alone should be able to keep her safe from anyone and anything.” It would serve her right to get her neck in a noose for a change. Maybe she’d understand then that you didn’t thumb your nose at danger for long before it bit you in the ass. Perhaps her headstrong behavior would even protect her from him. He couldn’t afford to constantly feel this gnawing ache in his groin for a woman he couldn’t have. She wasn’t the one night in the sack kind of woman, and he couldn’t chance emotional attachments. Carmelita’s beautiful face popped into his mind again. Hell, he doubted he could be devoted to any woman for long. But he remembered that look on Emma’s face when he’d told her she shouldn’t go anywhere because of the weather. She’d been suspicious of him.

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Hell, he didn’t want her to be afraid of him. What the hell do you want from her? No answer came. Since Emma had come into his life, he’d reeled from one conflicting emotion to another. He’d never reacted to a woman’s sensual pull this quickly. Like a potent aphrodisiac, she melted his blood. All he could think about was keeping her safe and his need to make love to her. Damn. Maybe if he did make love to her the need would leave his system. After he buttoned his shirt he reached for the telephone. His phone call earlier had been cut short when he realized Emma had skulked about the hall trying to eavesdrop. As it was, she’d heard too much. He should have confronted her right then. Told her that he knew she’d heard his telephone conversation. Should have, would have. Determined, he reached for the phone and punched in a phone number. AFTER SHE LEFT Shane’s house Emma went straight to the camp ground with the idea of confronting Grant. Better to meet with him now than wait for him to come to her. Grant’s RV sat like a hulking monster nested down for the night, but no lights showed in the windows. No sign of his vehicle. She decided to get dinner first and go back to the campground later. At eight o’clock Emma arrived at The Golden Brand fully expecting the parking lot to be semi-empty. A small banner on the outside declared it was Golden Brand Famous Thursday Night Chili and Country Line Dancing. She had to circle the lot twice before someone pulled out of a space. After today’s antics she didn’t feel

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up to a big crowd, but her stomach protested loud and clear and she didn’t feel like grabbing a quick hamburger. She climbed out of the Explorer and ran through the downpour into the restaurant. After a ten-minute wait, a waitress showed her to a table. Packed with people, the restaurant hummed with voices. The nasty weather hadn’t deterred anyone from having a good time. Country line dancing posters graced the swinging doors that led to the bar, and a sorrowful Travis Tritt tune seeped from the room. She stared at the menu but didn’t see anything appealing to her and she realized her nerves had frayed. Confronting Grant wouldn’t be easy. It took several moments for her to notice that someone had stopped at her table. She expected to see the waitress when she glanced up. Surprise made her suck in a quick breath. “Shane.” Damp and unruly, his hair curled about his head in disarray. His grim expression reminded her she’d run out on him. Without asking if he could sit down, he pulled the chair out across the table from her and sat down. His knees bumped hers under the small table. The contact sent a little fusion of heat through her and she felt a funny, fuzzy buzz in her head as if she’d had too much wine. “Why did you leave without saying goodbye?” he asked with a quiet intensity that did nothing to diminish the sharpness of his gaze. Emma perused her menu, but didn’t see the words in front of her. “Would you have let me go?” “Maybe.” He shrugged. “Maybe not.” “Humph. I don’t respond well to caveman tactics, Shane.”

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He nodded. “So I noticed. Sometimes caveman tactics are necessary.” She allowed every inch of her disapproval to show in her expression. “So you think violence is the answer to your problems?” “No.” He shifted in his chair. She could tell right away that she’d said the wrong thing. When he didn’t elaborate, she continued. “Why are you here?” “I’m hungry.” She sighed. “No, I mean why are you really here? Were you looking for me?” “You left something at my house.” He reached into his front jeans pocket and pulled out her bikini panties and let them dangle from his index finger. “Good God,” she said, her eyes going wide. She snatched them from his finger and stuffed them in her tote bag. She looked around the restaurant in embarrassment, certain everyone had seen him produce the panties. Just then the waitress arrived at their table looking amused. She’d probably seen Shane suspending the panties from his finger. Shane declined to order, and Emma ordered a draft beer. After the waitress left, Shane leaned on the table and stared at Emma. “Did you have to return my panties like that?” she whispered. “What other way would you have me return them?” Her temperature gauge soared. She ought to leave him sitting there alone with his smirk. “I don’t know, but not in a public place.” She fidgeted. “You don’t have my bra hiding in your pants, do you?”

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He smiled slightly and his gaze heated. “Now there’s a thought. No. It’s hanging from my rear view mirror.” “Hanging from...you’re not serious?” “Absolutely. I rarely get a prize like that.” “I find that hard to believe.” His lips curved into a completely carnal grin, his mouth a sensual curve. “Why?” She hadn’t expected him to ask, and she answered again without thought. “Because you’re...” “Yes?” She shrugged. “Never mind.” He smiled again, but it passed over his lips and disappeared. He leaned back in his chair, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. “I went to the hotel and they wouldn’t tell me if you’d checked back in. When I didn’t see your car there, I took a chance you might be with Grant at the campground. When I went there no one was home.” Was he crazy? “What were you going to do? Start another fight with Grant?” He straightened in his chair and his eyes darkened, turning the purple shade of thunderheads in an approaching storm. “I wasn’t the one who started the first fight.” She clutched her hands together, and then relaxed them. “What I meant was that if he’d been there who knows how he would have reacted?. Don’t you think it would be wise for you to stay clear of him? If provoked he might go ahead and press charges against you.” “Would that bother you? Or would you like to see me behind bars and Charlie in the pound.”

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“Of course not. Besides, Charlie was only doing what any good, loyal dog would do for its master.” He didn’t look pacified. “How would you feel about Grant going to jail?” “I thought you said you weren’t pressing charges?” “I’m not.” “Then why ask?” He didn’t answer. The waitress appeared at that moment with her beer, and Emma immediately took a swallow. The semi-bitter taste of the cold drink tasted good on her dry tongue. Maybe the alcohol would calm her sudden jitters. Shane stood abruptly. “Come on. Let’s go in the bar.” She frowned. “Why?” “I like the music.” Bemused, and not ready to end the conversation right at this point, she followed him into the dimly-lit bar. He found a small, secluded booth in the back. Smoke drifted around the room and her nose twitched. She didn’t care to suck in cigarette fumes. Like the restaurant area, the bar was crowded, and several people strutted to a line dance on the small dance floor. Once they’d settled in the booth, he sat way too close, his proximity enough to send little explosions of awareness along her nerves. She shifted, putting more space between them. “What time did you go to the campground?” she asked. “I just came from there.”

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“I stopped there earlier, but Grant wasn’t around then, either.” “What were you going to say when you saw him? Were you going to make sure you still had a job?” “I’m not sure.” “The man’s violent and it’s not safe for you to be around him. You don’t deserve to be treated that way.” Emma took another sip of her drink then crossed her arms. “What do you care?” He leaned toward her, his gaze riveted to hers. “I’m starting to get tired of all these questions.” “Why are you so intent on nailing Grant to the wall?” she asked, ignoring the urge to back away. “We’ll be done with the excavation this next week even if I have to do the whole damn thing myself. Then we’ll both be off your land.” “I admire your tenacity. But I’m more concerned about what he’ll do to you.” “Would you feel responsible for me losing my job?” He used his index finger to trace the pattern on the coaster in front of him. “Partially. But the important thing now is for you to be safe.” She didn’t know if the unsteady feeling in her chest occurred because of beer on an empty stomach or his disturbing words. “He wouldn’t hurt me.” “I don’t believe that.” “Officer Reddins told me Grant was the one worried about you hurting me.” He didn’t speak immediately, just stared at her. “After what happened today, do you really think I’d hurt you?”

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She didn’t know anymore. At one point she would have said he wouldn’t harm her, but after the conversation she’d overheard him having on the phone and Officer Reddins’ cautionary tales, she couldn’t be certain. “I don’t know.” A long silence stretched, his face cool. She thought she saw a trickle of disappointment flicker in his eyes. “What did Reddins tell you?” Instinctively Emma backed away from the truth. “Nothing.” He moved toward her again, this time shifting on the seat so that he practically touched her. As he leaned his arm on the table in front of her she felt the burn of his stare. Strange electricity arched between her and Shane. His reactions, the emotions that played over his face fascinated her, provoked her to challenge him. The strange fire in his eyes drew her until she found herself inclined slightly closer, eliminating some of the space she’d put between them moments ago. She inhaled his warm, musk scent. The masculine aroma tantalized her. With his face close to hers, she knew what they appeared to be. Lovers. “I don’t believe you, Emma. What did he say about me?” “He said it wasn’t smart to hang around you. That you were unpredictable.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Figures.” “You keep yourself hidden away on your ranch, you don’t socialize much.” “Does that make me dangerous?” “Of course not—”

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“You’re willing to believe that flea bag Reddins? He’s had it out for me ever since he started with the police department. I got a ticket from him once and he was obnoxious as hell.” “I suppose you were speeding.” He made a face at her. “Yeah, I was speeding. But there was no reason for him to be uncivil. I certainly didn’t give him any trouble. The guy practically threatened to run me in.” Emma balanced what Reddins had hinted about Shane’s character but hadn’t revealed, and Shane’s protests that Reddins meant to chew him up and spit him out. Before she could speak Shane whispered, “You don’t even know him well and yet you’re willing to take his word over mine.” “Shane, how do you expect me to trust you when you won’t come clean with me? Clear communication is the only way things work. That’s part of the reason you and Grant came to blows. Lack of communication.” “Bull. I’ll tell you what’s wrong. Wilder is frustrated. He wants you and you don’t want him. On top of that, he’s up to something. And I’m damn sure going to find out what it is.” The music changed to a slow country tune and couples entered the dance floor. Tired of verbal prize fighting, she glanced at her watch. Almost ten o’clock. She needed sleep for an early start on the excavation tomorrow. “It’s late. I’m going to see Grant, then recheck into the hotel.” He reached for her hand and enveloped it in his warm, large palm. “Don’t go,” he said, barely loud enough for her to hear over the music. Warm excitement darted through her as the heat of his gaze mesmerized her. Shocked by his touch and his

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Chapter 8 EMMA STARED at Shane and then swallowed hard. If she went into his arms, she knew it would be difficult to leave...impossible to ignore her attraction for the enigmatic, sexy man. Emma felt, in those few seconds as Shane led her onto the dance floor, that she’d borrowed a dream from a movie where all things became possible. So much in her life had been borrowed. She had few things she clung to in life. Possessions didn’t mean a lot to her, other than her books. She figured attachment to things, whether objects or people, brought nothing but pain. This minute, though, she’d found a fantasy and wanted to indulge this one time. In this fantasy Shane had told her the truth and he wasn’t hiding anything from her. Grant hadn’t said her job was in jeopardy. She’d found Sadie’s treasure. And the man holding her hand really cared about her. After he found a niche in the crowd, Shane gathered her right hand into his left. Tentatively she put her other hand on his shoulder and felt the warmth of hard muscles underneath her fingers. He urged her close, his arm bringing her hips near his. The lights dimmed. As they moved with the music, she closed her eyes and let the song take her away. A sweet tingling filled her body as she took in a deep breath. God, the man smelled so good it had to be a sin. As he swayed, moving her against him, she relished the heady, sensual pleasure. For the time she had, however long, she would enjoy his embrace and admit to herself that she did feel a raw, powerful attraction to him.

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Physical. That’s all it could be. He couldn’t be trusted and he might be up to something criminal. Reba McEntire crooned something about blues and feeling used. Emma worried that if she continued to dance with Shane she’d have all of those symptoms and more. As the song reached a crescendo, a lump grew steadily in her throat and she took a deep breath to try and push it back down. She wasn’t successful. In fact, the lump threatened to strangle her. Today she’d lost restraint in several areas. Anger, fear...desire. She hadn’t expected this upsurge of emotion, perhaps brought on by Shane’s embrace or the events of the long day. The warmth from his body seeped into her, the heat a welcome comfort that flowed over her limbs like a blanket. With that solace came a loosening of inhibitions. At first she couldn’t look at him, afraid of what she might see in his eyes. If she saw gentleness there she’d lose more inhibitions than she could afford to relinquish. He leaned down until he could whisper in her ear. “Are you all right?” Shane’s warm breath tickled her ear and an answering glow heated her stomach. She fingered the hair at the back of his neck, reveling in the silkiness against her skin. When she realized what she was doing, she stopped. Her mouth went dry and when he brought her closer, she whispered back, “This is crazy.” “What’s crazy?” “We can’t...” “Can’t what?” he said huskily. “Hold each other?” “You don’t even like me.” “Whatever gave you the idea I don’t like you?”

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As the song ended she stopped moving, looking up at him as couples left the floor and others remained. Reba McEntire began to sing again and his gaze locked with hers, the question lingering in his eyes. He moved her into another slow dance. “Think about it, Shane.” He nodded. “I guess I’ve been hard on you.” “Is this the part where you’re going to tell me it’s all been for my own good?” He pulled her even closer, wrapping both arms around her. The power she felt in his arms didn’t frighten her...it thrilled her. “I’m not that unselfish. It’s as much for my good as yours.” She peered at him, skeptically. “Did you seriously think when you started dropping barely-veiled hints that something illegal was going on in the canyon, that I’d...let’s see...what do they call it in this part of the country? Tuck tail and run?” “Watch out. You’re showing your city prejudices.” When she recalled all the things she’d thought about him when she first met him, shame registered, poking her conscience like a disgruntled porcupine. “Am I that transparent?” she asked regretfully. His hands did a gentle foray across her back, and the caresses made her shiver with raw need. “I think you’re a fascinating woman, Emma. I can’t remember the last time I met a woman who had so many sides.” He trailed one hand down from her waist so that it cupped her hip, riding dangerously close to her bottom. “You have a soft exterior. Then you open your mouth and prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re tough.”

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“Thanks. You make me sound like old shoe leather.” “No. You’re like a diamond. Facet upon facet of angles. Somewhere in all that complexity is the real you.” His words unraveled her a little more. She never would have guessed that he had this depth of understanding within him, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to understand. “I never knew you were a poet,” she said, trying to levitate the conversation into something less heavy. “As you said, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.” “Let’s get right down to it.” “Mmmmmm.” His eyes turned slumberous. “Be careful how you say that. I might take you up on it.” Her belly fluttered with undeniable arousal. She trembled a little and she wondered if he’d felt the involuntary shudder. Choosing to ignore the innuendo, she said, “Don’t you think it would help if you let me in on what is happening at the site? You’ve been suspicious of our motives since we started excavating. And I don’t think it has anything to do with your urge to be a recluse.” She kept firm eye contact with him. “Is it something illegal?” “I can’t tell you.” The temptation to stalk out of the bar in a huff almost overwhelmed her. The other half of her, though, was too curious to give up. “Tell me what’s going on, Shane. You can’t expect me to turn away and not understand exactly why I’m doing it.” The warmth left his expression, and she wished for it back.

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“Trust me,” he said. The song hadn’t finished, but she moved from his arms. “We’ve had this conversation before, and I don’t believe in going in circles. There’s no point in continuing. If you don’t trust me enough tell me what’s going on, then I’m not obligated to trust you.” She wove her way through the thick crowd of people, hoping he wouldn’t follow her. When he didn’t pursue her, she tried to convince herself that it didn’t matter. EMMA SAT IN her car and wondered if she had made a big mistake waiting for Grant to return to his RV. She flicked on her small flashlight and glanced at her watch. Practically eleven thirty and there had been no sign of him. She’d give him fifteen more minutes. After that she’d head back to the hotel. At this time of night the area looked unsettling. A large campground, it afforded plenty of isolation for each RV or campsite. Grant had chosen a spot far into the grounds, and added to the fact few campers were here now, he practically had the place to himself. Surrounded by trees, with ample brush around, his spot gave plenty of privacy. Relentless rain came down, drumming on the roof of the Explorer, drowning out other sounds. Water obscured the windshield and twice she’d had to crack the window to let in fresh air. The sooner Grant got his butt back to the RV, the sooner she could have it out with him and be done with the whole mess. Better to hit things head on. Fired.

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The word bounced in her mind like a yo-yo. She knew what her father would say. He’d say it proved that a woman couldn’t do the job. The head archaeologist at every site upon which she’d worked had praised her. Yet her father’s opinion of her abilities never changed. When Grant had told her that they’d been hired to hunt for Sadie Cutley’s illusive treasure, she knew this type of assignment would be what her father considered poppy cock. As far as dear daddy was concerned, the only place a true archaeologist could make their names would be in exotic places like Egypt. A spiral of self-loathing gathered inside of her. She’d spent too many years running around the globe trying to impress her father and trying to forget Doug.... “Damn it,” she said, irritated by her mind’s determination to dwell on things she wanted to forget. She turned her thoughts back to Grant and what he’d done with the artifact he’d been trying to extricate from the pit when Shane had arrived that afternoon. She’d never seen him pocket an artifact before. She’d have to confront him. Gradually the rain subsided until only a few drops splattered on the vehicle. Clouds shifted, allowing a huge full moon to shine through the towering ponderosas, trailing bright ribbons of light over the ground. Instead of giving her reassurance, the silver light imbued the area with a surreal glow. As she skulked in the dark like a private eye in a mystery movie, she chided herself for seeing ghosts around every corner. Paranoia. Shane O’Donnell was distrustful and had a complex about people taking advantage of him. She’d let herself get caught up in his mood. Yet even as she dismissed her apprehensions as particles of imagination, she wondered

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why he’d chosen to come out of his own reclusive shadow long to spend time with her, dance with her. To warn her repeatedly away from Grant. Bull. She refused to worry or think about it anymore. Soon she’d finish with the excavation and then she’d be out of here. Back to Denver and probably on another job search. Away from Shane’s sheer animal magnetism. Ready to give up on Grant, she reached into the glove compartment for pen and paper. She’d attach a note to the RV door and leave. Emma scribbled a note, got out of the Explorer and trudged the few feet toward the RV door. Immediately, she noticed something strange. The door stood open about a centimeter. Apprehension skittered thorough her limbs in a cold wave. Instead of backing away, as every cell in her body warned her to do, she reached for the door and opened it the rest of the way. Uneasiness jumbled her insides in a nauseating twist. What if something had happened to Grant and he needed help? Her fingers trembled as the door swung wide. The darkness swallowed most of the light, obscuring her view. She started to step up into the RV when a glint of moonlight on a small object revealed a wide gold band. Three sparkling, square, dark stones nestled in the band. A soft whooshing noise came directly behind her. Without warning, a violent shove between the shoulder blades sent her into the side of the RV, and her head hit the hard shell. Pain detonated in her skull. Stunned, she sagged to her knees as she grabbed onto the side of the RV for support. A dizzying swirl. The world receded, fading to black. What seemed seconds later she felt herself surface from a murky haze, only to feel it threaten to close over her

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brain once again. Still on her knees and leaning against the RV, she shook her aching head. Someone’s harsh breathing, shuffling sounds, then footsteps moving away. Seconds later darkness claimed her again. A DULL, UNMERCIFUL pounding hammered at Emma’s skull and she opened her eyes. Something warm trickled down the side of her face, and she reached up to feel the left side of her head. Moisture seeped through her fingers and down her palm. It must still be raining. No. The sky above her danced with stars. A tiny pinprick of panic zinged through her body. Blood. She licked her lips. She heard the sound of another car engine as a vehicle crept down the rough road. Weakly she rolled to her right side. She barely registered that she lay in mud, and that the sticky matter clung to her hair and on her hands. Through the haze in her mind she saw Shane’s truck coming down the lane as he pulled up next to her Explorer. Relief washed through her and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy to see anyone. Painfully she pushed herself first to a sitting position and then she stood slowly. When her knees held, she made a step forward. A stab of pain darted through her temples and she closed her eyes. A small groan left her lips. Great. Just friggin’ great. Shane left the headlights on and she heard the sound of a door opening and closing, then rapid footsteps. “Emma?”

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Confident her legs would hold her she attempted another step. Her legs wobbled. “What the—” He must have noticed the rusty-colored moisture on her face, and as he approached, she heard him inhale sharply. “Oh, my God.” She took another step toward him and her legs gave way. Before he could reach her, she fell to her knees. “Emma!” The alarm in his voice scared her. As he dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands came up to cup her face. “You’re hurt.” “I’m okay.” Her voice sounded like a feathery wisp. For a wild, dreadful moment, she imagined there was blood in her throat. Gently he ran his fingers lightly through her hair, apparently looking for her injury. “What happened? Who did this to you? Was it Wilder?” “No...” She swallowed hard. “I don’t know who it was. I was going to leave a note on the door when someone came up behind me.” He touched the sore spot on the left side of her head and she winced. His hand came away bloody. He cursed. “We’ve got to get you to the hospital.” “No.” “Damn it, Emma, you have a head injury.” “I don’t think it’s bad.” He ran his hands down her arms, then around to her rib cage. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” His voice was gruff, irritated. “I’m okay,” she whispered again.

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His brows speared downwards, thunder in his gaze as he gripped her arms. “Are you crazy? Don’t you see now why I want you out of this and off the site? It’s dangerous.” She shook her head, but stopped because it made her head throb wildly. “And I suppose it’s my fault because some lunatic is running around attacking people in the camp ground,” she said, lacing each word with pain, anger and sarcasm. Eyes narrowed, he whispered, “You could have been killed.” “That would have been convenient for you.” As soon as she uttered the words tears welled in her eyes, and she struggled to hold them back. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. “Emma—” His arms came around her, and he pulled her against him. She let her head rest on his shoulder and she shuddered against him, cold. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” “No.” She remembered the ring. Pulling back from his embrace, she looked around the area for the ring she’d found inside the RV. “A ring. There was a ring on the floor of his RV. I was looking at it and someone hit me from behind.” “I don’t care about any damned ring. First I’m getting you to a doctor.” He frowned and brushed a long tendril of hair back from her face. “But—” “No buts!” Before she could protest he stood, then reached down for her, pulling her to her feet. She let out a squeak of surprise when he swooped her up in his arms. “Be still,” he said when she squirmed. He walked toward the truck. “God, I knew you’d be a lot of trouble the

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first moment I saw you.” His tone held a husky tenderness and she decided she could grow to like the sound of it against her ears. His strong arms gripped her firmly, and he carried her like she weighed nothing at all. She held on, her senses spinning from either his nearness or the blow to the head. Neither alternative seemed favorable. Shane set her down next to his truck, but kept his arm around her. He helped her climb in the truck, and she immediately leaned her head back on the seat and closed her eyes. As they pulled away from Grant’s RV, he touched her hand. “Hey, don’t go to sleep. Stay awake.” “I don’t think I could sleep through this pounding headache.” He squeezed her hand. “Just hang on to me, sweetheart.” Sweetheart. The endearment could have sounded odd coming from a big, strong, undeniably sexy man like Shane. Instead, laced with a rough, husky tone, it made her feel cherished and special. Shane squeezed her hand gently. “Talk to me.” And she hung onto his hand as if it were a lifeline. WAITING WAS HELL. No, it was more than hell. It was excruciating. Shane had never been in the emergency waiting room of the small hospital in Gambit Creek, and he hoped he never had to do it again. He tossed the magazine he’d tried unsuccessfully to read onto the end table next to him. He twiddled his

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thumbs and noticed smears of Emma’s blood on his hand and on his clothes. Mud spotted his jeans. Pure fury rushed through him and the rage bunched his muscles with tension. If Wilder were in any way responsible for Emma’s injuries, he’d tear the idiot into little pieces. He laid his head back on his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. The small television in the corner played an old rerun of Andy Griffith. Wearily he looked at the clock on the wall. Two o’clock in the morning. He rubbed his temples. Other than an older woman with a kindly face, he was the only other person in the waiting room. She smiled and he managed a tentative grin. He needed to know if Emma was all right; the worry ate at him every minute. Then he would tell her in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t work on his land again, and she would go back to Denver. Nothing else would assure her safety. Now way did he believe Emma had involved herself in whatever criminal activity Grant had concocted. Carmelita’s face came to the forefront of his mind again. Carmelita had lied. Had brought him into her arms and her bed when he finally trusted that she wasn’t a part of her father’s consortium of thievery. He couldn’t afford to let Emma into his heart or his bed, and dancing with her had ranked right up there as one of his more stupid moves. The feeling of her body against his had sent all his needs into overdrive. He paced the waiting room, his anxiety rising. How long could an examination, x-rays, and cat scan take? One of the emergency room nurses had promised to tell him the results of the examination. Still, it had been a long, long time since he’d driven up to the ER, his tires squealing as he’d come to a halt. Emma had remained

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conscious during the trip to the hospital, but he’d carried her into the ER. She’d protested and the memory of her stubbornness made him smile. At least, if she balked he knew she couldn’t be seriously hurt. As he took a shaky, cleansing breath, some of the knots in his stomach released their relentless hold. Despite his reluctance to think about it, memories of other times unmercifully pushed to the forefront. His mother. Lying on the couch at home, her face turned away from him so that he couldn’t see the purple bruise that rose on her cheek. The tears that had rained from her blue eyes when she’d seen him standing there. The way she’d held her hand out to him. He closed his eyes tightly as the painful memory swept him, blazing through like fire. His mother pleading with him to stop as he’d stormed through the house to find his father. At nineteen Shane had already developed into a tall, powerful man and he’d slammed his father against the wall, telling him that if he ever touch his mother again he’d beat him to a bloody pulp. Tonight he’d almost acted the same way. Had almost run out of the hospital to start tracking down the bastards who’d hurt Emma. He’d managed to rein in his savage need for revenge. Carmelita. Carmelita lying in a pool of blood. Killed at the hand of her father. When she’d told him of her father’s violent rages, he’d thought it was another one of her lies. But she’d been telling the truth... Revenge. He’d never gotten retribution against his own father, or against Carmelita’s father. But he’d been content to leave his grievances behind when his father had died. When Shane had left the

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agency four years ago he thought he was starting a new life. He’d been wrong. His gut twisted tight with another memory. Blood smeared on Emma’s pale features. Sheer panic had slammed into him when he’d seen the blood, and when she’d started to fall, he’d thought his heart would stop. Rage had run through him like a raft plunging through rapids. “Mr. O’Donnell?” The light female voice came from the entrance of the waiting room, and he turned to see the nurse. He walked up to her quickly. “How is she?” The nurse smiled. “She’s fine. She does have a slight concussion, but it’s not serious. The doctor wants to keep her overnight for observation. If she remains stable she can leave tomorrow morning.” He sighed heavily, relieved. “Can I see her?” She nodded and told him where he could find Emma. When he reached her room, he opened the door slowly, almost afraid of what he would see. She was lying on a bed huddled under the covers. She didn’t move or open her eyes, and he watched her, appalled at how vulnerable she appeared. Under the blanket she looked small, an amazing feat considering her height. A bandage covered part of her left temple and was half hidden by her hair. Suddenly her eyes opened and he saw the apprehension in her, the mistrust that lurked behind the shamrock green of her eyes. He’d seen that look in people’s faces before. “Hey,” he said softly and moved to her side.

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“Hey. What are you still doing here?” “You look better.” “You’re a master of not answering questions, did you know that?” He shrugged. “One of my many dubious qualities.” He lightly touched her cheek. “How do you feel?” “Sore.” A smile shimmered across her lips. “I can’t wait to get out of here.” “Tomorrow morning.” He reached for her arm and pressed it, lingering gently with his fingers. Her soft, warm skin brought an extra surge of desire to protect her. At all costs. “Do you believe me now when I said you shouldn’t get involved in this...that you should go back to Denver?” She sighed. “I’m not going back to Denver now. Something strange is happening in relation to the excavation. I’ve been thinking about it. It’s possible the ring I found in the RV was what Grant took from the pit.” Shane put his hands on his hips and turned swiftly away, daunted by her intractable persistence. “Shane?” He turned back to her, willing himself not to feel the impact of looking at her lying there, hurt. “Why were you at the camp ground tonight?” she asked. “Because I wanted to catch up to you and give you back the rest of your shocking red underwear.” Her face reddened slightly. “I don’t believe you. You have motivations and secrets I don’t understand. And it’s damn frustrating.” “Don’t you ever believe in letting things just stay as they are?” “I used to. But this situation has changed my mind.” She lifted a hand to her forehead and held it there.

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Concerned, he touched her shoulder. “You okay, sweetheart?” Emma smiled again and his heart did triple time. A surge of energy took the exhaustion from his system. Dropping her hand back to her side, she let her smile dissolve. “I’m fine. And as soon as I get out of this damn hospital I’m going back to the camp ground and find that ring.” “No.” Her lips thinned. “Contrary to everything you believe, Shane O’Donnell, I don’t believe in letting hardheaded ranchers dictate to me where and what I’ll do. It’s possible that Grant might be in some sort of trouble. What if he’s been hurt?” Shane felt his blood pressure rise at that mention of the man’s name. Could she possibly harbor some affection for that dirt bag? “What do you care about him? He’s treated you like crap.” She nodded. “Yes. And after this excavation is complete, and after I find out what is going on, I’m quitting the company.” He should have guessed. Like a tenacious terrier with a bone, she’d continue nibbling at that bone until she got every last morsel. “But not before.” She shook her head. “No.” He made a decision, one he figured he might regret after Emma disappeared from his life. If he had to hog tie and wrestle her she would go back to the ranch with him when she left the hospital. With him she’d be safe. But he knew that asking her to come home with him was too simple. He moved closer to the bed. “I’m not

Borrowing a Dream everything you think I am, Emma.”

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Chapter 9 A KNOCK ON the entrance to the room startled Emma, and she looked past Shane to see Officer Reddins opening the door. The man had an uncanny knack of appearing at inopportune times. “Sorry to interrupt,” Reddins said, stepping into the room. “How are you feeling, Emma?” She smiled. “My head hurts, but other than that, I’m fine.” “Any luck at the camp ground?” Shane asked. Reddins stood at the foot of her bed. He cleared his throat. “No, unfortunately. We combed the area and interviewed the other campers. No one saw anything.” Shane frowned and she wondered what he had almost told her a few moments earlier. Part of her wanted to order the officer out of the room so she could quiz Shane, while the other half of her didn’t want to hear what Shane had to say. I’m not everything you think I am, Emma. “No sign of the ring?” she asked instead. Reddins shook his head. “No.” “What about Wilder?” Shane asked. “It’s as if he’s fallen off the face of the earth.” Shane turned to Emma. “You said he had friends in Cortez?” “Yes.”

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“Then maybe they picked him up and he’s staying with them,” Shane said. Reddins turned his hat around in his hands. “Shane, I’d like to speak with Emma privately. Could you step outside for a few moments?” Shane gave Emma a mingled expression of reassurance and caution but said nothing as he turned and left. Emma looked at Reddins expectantly. He turned his hat in his hands again. “Why did you ask him to leave?” “Routine.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “And I have some questions I wanted you to be able to answer honestly.” “Okay, what do you want to know?” “Tell me word for word everything that happened when you were out at Grant’s RV.” She explained to him all she could remember and he didn’t interrupt. When she’d finished telling the story, he remained silent for a long time and stared into space. Finally he said, “Can you think of any reason why Shane might want to attack you?” Surprised, she didn’t answer him immediately. She remembered Shane’s gentle hands, his anger at Grant’s treatment of her. Shane’s passionate, mind-blowing kiss. And the stark, undeniable fear in his eyes when he’d seen the blood running down her face. “I told you before. Shane would never hurt me.” “He’s never said or done anything that would lead you to believe he’s capable of violence?” “No.” She ventured back to the last conversation she’d had with Reddins. “There’s no way it could have been him. He drove up shortly after the person ran away.”

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“Were you unconscious for long?” She thought back to the moment she’d been shoved against the camper. “My guess is that I was out for about ten minutes, maybe less.” “Long enough for Shane to have attacked you, then turned around and pretend he’d just arrived.” “No!” she burst out. “Why would he do that?” He didn’t look startled by her vehement response. “It was dark. How could you be sure?” “Because the moon was bright.” He walked to the window and looked outside, then turned back to her again. “Let me see if I understand. It was light enough for Shane to recognize you from several feet away when he arrived and light enough for you to see the ring, but you couldn’t see who attacked you?” Crap. He had a legitimate question. She closed her eyes and recalled the moment when she’d heard a sound behind her and had started to turn. Nothing. A black void. She remembered being shoved, the pain, blacking out. But not the face of who had hit her. “I don’t remember the face. It’s...all a blank.” “This is serious business. The stakes are apparently high for somebody. They wanted that ring, and they didn’t mind hurting you to get it.” “Then there is something going on. I knew it,” she said firmly. “But Shane won’t tell me. Is there a conspiracy around here?”

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“Pardon me?” “A conspiracy. I’m used to Shane being obtuse, but now you’re saying things that lead me to believe I don’t know the whole story and you do.” She saw the acknowledgment flicker in his eyes. He ran a hand through the sparse hair on his head. His gesture only served to mess up what few strands he had. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But considering today’s events, I don’t think you should be alone from now on.” Confused, she frowned. “What are you suggesting?” “Do you have any friends in Gambit Creek who you could stay with?” “No.” He considered the toe of his boot for a minute, then gazed at her. “Then I suggest you leave town.” Fear did a tiny spike up her spine. “Why?” “Just a feeling I have, Emma.” “A cop’s instincts?” “Yeah. And common sense. You say you saw this...ring, right?” After she nodded he continued. “And you think Grant pocketed it at the site today?” “Yes. But I think he did that because Shane arrived and Grant didn’t have time to put it in a bag.” “Maybe.” Doubt lingered on her tongue like a bad taste. “Are you saying you think Grant intended to take the ring for his own?”

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He shook his head. “I’m not saying anything affirmative. I’m trying to understand what’s going on here as much as you are.” He shifted and hooked his thumb through the thick belt at his waist. The leather creaked. “Few years back we had some thefts of valuable archaeological relics from the local history museum. Items that would bring a pretty penny if presented to the right customer.” Emma’s mind raced with possibilities. “I think I remember hearing about that. In the early nineties, right?” “Right. Ninety-three to be exact.” “What kind of artifacts?” “Anasazi. They were originally found in some small cliff dwellings on land not far from Buzzard Ridge.” Immediately she remembered seeing the name on a topographical map of the land that comprised Shane’s and Clement’s land and the surrounding area. “And you think there’s a connection between the artifacts stolen at the museum and the excavation I’m working on now? But the artifacts we’re looking for wouldn’t be that valuable.” When he didn’t respond to her question right away, she tensed and the throbbing in her head increased. Her whole body ached with exhaustion. A nurse came in and Shane followed her. The nurse gave Reddins a stern look. “I think that’s enough questioning. It’s very late.” Reddins left the room after telling Emma he’d be in touch with her if anything materialized regarding her attacker. The doctor arrived and declared that she should have no more visitors. “I’d like another moment with her if I could?” Shane asked.

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After the doctor reluctantly agreed, Shane returned to her beside. He came close to the bed, and she wanted to reach out to him, to touch him. Life-affirming warmth flowed through her assuring her that even though she felt tired, his presence stirred her. But something held her back. Maybe Reddins’ insinuations about Shane ? Perhaps Shane’s cryptic statement that she didn’t know everything about him? How could she feel this affinity for a man who deliberately avoided telling her the truth? “I won’t ask you what Reddins wanted to know,” Shane said. “You can tell me tomorrow, if you want.” Like Reddins had done earlier, he pushed his hand through his hair, ruffling the thick strands. “We have a lot to talk about.” “You could tell me now.” “You need rest.” She sighed, weariness wearing down on her and making her apathetic. “All right. Tomorrow.” “I’ll be here in the morning to pick you up. I can take you back to the campground and we can get your car. Then you can drive over to the ranch.” “Great. I want to get back to work right away. There’s a lot of work to be done--” He held a hand up to silence her. “No work for at least a couple of days.” “The doctor didn’t say I couldn’t work.” “He said to take it easy.” Exasperated, she relented. For now. “I’ll relax at the hotel, then.” “I have work to do at the ranch, but if you’re at my home, I know you’ll be safe.”

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“At your house?” A stab of pain in her temple made her wince. “We’ll argue about this tomorrow. This has been one hell of a day.” After he left, a thousand points of conjecture whirled in her mind and competed for space. Although she wanted to think about them, exhaustion overtook her and she let her eyes flicker closed. EMMA WONDERED if she was making a big mistake. As Shane opened the front door of his house and carried in her suitcase, she followed and closed the door. She felt as if a chapter in her life had either ended or started; she couldn’t say which. When he’d come to the hospital to pick her up at noon, she’d felt a sense of relief at seeing him. Cleanshaven and freshly dressed in long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and boots, his undeniable good looks had nurses gawking. Their faces expressed more than admiration of Shane; they envied her. Did they imagine this gorgeous man was all hers? Hers to touch, taste. She’d had to swallow hard to ignore the thrum of desire these thoughts brought to her. Now as Charlie greeted them with furiously-wagging tail and sloppy kisses, it seemed she’d borrowed another dream. Another outrageous fantasy. Painful memories of her parent’s fading love for her reminded her that she didn’t really have a home. Emma paused at the door and squatted down to pet Charlie. She caught Shane watching her. She held his gaze and dared him to make a joke or other comment. But he said nothing and his stare wore her down. She turned her attention back to Charlie.

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He picked up her suitcase. “I’ll put this in my room.” As he started to walk away she stood up. “What?” He stopped. “My room.” Her expression must have shown her surprise and her distrust. He smiled again. “I’ve moved into the guest room.” “But I can’t kick you out of your bedroom. I’m already intruding on your life as it is.” “I’m used to sleeping in a variety of places. It’s no problem.” She pinned him with a skeptical glance. “I said I’d come here if you told me everything that was happening. When are you going to tell me, Shane?” He tilted his head slightly. “After I’ve finished some of my rounds.” Thoroughly disconcerted with the endless circle of delays, she said, “I swear, Shane O’Donnell, if you don’t tell me what the hell is happening within the next two hours I’m leaving here. I’ve got my car and there’s nothing to stop me.” His expression was grim. “After I’ve fed some animals—” “No.” “Come with me, then. But don’t blame me if you get dizzy—” “The doctor said I’m fine.” He stared at her for a few moments, then nodded. “Can you ride a horse?” “Oh, no. You’re not getting me on one of those.”

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He plunked the suitcase down on the carpet and whipped off his hat, tossing it lightly onto the sofa. Then he walked toward her slowly. At first Emma stood her ground, but as he sauntered toward her, an irrational panic sent her back until she pressed against the wall next to the front door. He didn’t stop until he stood a couple inches away, his eyes blazing and his mouth tight. He leaned one hand on the wall next to her head and his gaze traced every inch of her face. Heat rose in her skin, setting a strange fire she’d experienced once before when he’d kissed her at the site. She wanted to groan. Memories of how his mouth had devoured her made arousal spike in her body. No. She wouldn’t show him how much his presence unnerved her. A gentle trembling raced through her. “Are you trying to intimidate me by standing close?” “Yes,” he said calmly, as if her unusual question didn’t bother him. He touched a tendril of her hair, letting the strand slip through his fingers. The ribbon of hair lay in a reckless toss along her shoulders, the waves reaching just below her shoulders. “You’re not concerned about your own safety and you’ll rush head long into more trouble.” “What kind of trouble?” She wanted to know the truth, but feared his answer. “How are you involved with all of this?” “I’m involved all right. Ass deep. But there’s something you’ve got to know.” His voice lowered, the tone husky. “I only have your safety in mind, Emma. Please don’t be afraid of me.” She almost reached up and caressed his jaw, pushed her hand through the thick tumble of his black hair. “How can you ask me to trust you when you won’t tell me what’s going on?” Shane backed away a pace, and she instantly regretted the distance between them. “If you’ll ride with me, I’ll

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tell you everything I can.” THE TALL MAN opened his window and let thin mountain air into his stuffy hotel room. Unfortunately the hot air from outside rushed inside. He wished he’d checked into the Ramada Inn down the street. He’d been misled about the luxury rooms in Hotel Stafford. They weren’t in line with the hotels he frequented in Los Angeles, Seattle, and New York City. This damned place didn’t even have an air conditioner. Then again, nothing more could be expected of a two-bit town like Gambit Creek. Another good reason to take care of business and get the hell out of here. He turned to the man seated in the wing-backed chair across the room. “Tell me what’s happening,” he said to his accomplice. “She’s going to stay at the ranch with him.” “This is not good.” The tall man reached inside the pocket in his jacket and pulled out a thin, silver cigar case. “How do you know she’s staying there?” “I watched them enter the camp ground. Then she followed him in her car back to the ranch.” Tall man opened the case and took one of the thin cigars out. He held it up. “Would you like one? It may be the last time you ever taste anything quite so nice again.” Tall man knew he’d created fear in the whiny man by the stir of panic he saw in the twit’s eyes. Tall man chuckled. “Come now, you don’t think I’m going to off you right here, do you? You’re too essential to my operation.”

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Visibly relaxing, the other man continued. “It’s going to be difficult to get to the site now.” “Difficult, but not impossible.” The tall man lit his cigar and took a deep drag. Slowly he blew a series of smoke rings. “And if we have to, we can always go after the girl. She’ll be our insurance that Mr. O’Donnell doesn’t obstruct us. He’s a bargaining man.” “Doesn’t look like much of a bargaining man to me,” the other man said, his tone dry and sarcastic. “He’s a tough son of a bitch.” Tall man laughed again, this time louder, and leaned on the wall next to the window. “You heard wrong. SART has him by the short hairs. He’ll do whatever they say. And if that means sacrificing the woman...well...he’ll do it.”

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Chapter 10 AS SHANE helped Emma mount the huge brown mare, she hoped the animal acted as mild mannered as Shane promised. “I haven’t ridden a horse in ten years,” she said, feeling the animal shift as she settled into the saddle and clutched the pommel tightly. “Just like riding a bike.” Realizing that he hadn’t saddled a horse for himself, she smiled at him nervously. “What about your horse?” “You’re on her.” He tilted his hat back, reached up and grabbed the pommel, and before she knew it he’d swung up behind her. “Hey.” She shifted forward in the saddle and gave him the stirrups. She stiffened as he slipped his left arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. He grasped the reins in his right hand. Warm, completely feminine reaction tingled through her body as he lowered his head to whisper into her ear, “Hay is for horses.” “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked, feeling a little breathless. “It’s the best idea I’ve had in a long time,” he drawled. She turned her head to look up at him, a frown creasing her lips. Emma wanted to retort, to keep him at a

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distance one way or another. Instead, she caught the teasing glint in his eyes, and the bright smile that parted his lips. Quickly she turned around, certain he could see trepidation and an odd arousal as it pulsed through her. “You could have ridden another horse,” she said. “Safety precaution. Animals can sense when people are nervous around them, and sometimes it can make them jittery.” He gently nudged the horses’ sides with a coax from his heels, and the big animal trundled out of the barn. “Don’t worry. Old Sally here wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Emma heard a bark, and looked down at Charlie. The playful dog trotted along beside the horse. Part of her wished she walked with the dog. At least the ground wouldn’t be so far away. She also wouldn’t have to endure the exquisite sensation of Shane’s powerfully-muscled arm around her and the steel of his body behind her. As they moved away from the house and outbuildings, tension tightened her shoulders. She recalled yesterday and the way his lips had caressed hers with a warmth that had disrupted any ideas she’d harbored that he was a cold, unfeeling man. He had feelings all right, but the glimpse she’d had into his temper left her shaky, on the edge. The force of his passion disturbed and overwhelmed her. Tasting his kiss had been a glimpse of sweetness, desire, and something powerful she’d never enjoyed before. Yesterday she’d learned a lot of things about Shane O’Donnell, but there were too many unanswered questions. Too many things unresolved. The excavation, her job...where and why Grant had disappeared. As they came to a steep hill, Shane tightened his arm around her, and his hard thighs pressed against the outside of hers. An instant, sensual pleasure rippled from her thighs into her belly.

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God, Emma. The man is just being courteous. Being safety conscious. He doesn’t want you to fall off the horse. With this admonition in mind, she took in a deep breath of the clean air that brushed hot and dry against her skin. The sun rose high overhead, and she was thankful for her baseball cap and the amount of sunscreen she’d lathered on her skin. A light breeze pushed dirt along the ground, swirling it into tiny dust devils. She reached into her shirt pocket for her sunglasses and plopped them on her nose. “Where are we going?” “Buzzard Ridge.” At the mention of the name, suspicion reared its proverbial head again. “Officer Reddins mentioned that some Anasazi artifacts were found on Buzzard Ridge and that they were stolen from a museum.” “That’s true.” “You’re property seems to regularly produce a lot of archaeologically significant material.” She kept her tone light. “Unfortunately.” Press a little harder, Emma. If you don’t he’ll clam up again, like he always seems to do when you get close to something he doesn’t want you to know. “Were you here when the artifacts were found?” “My father was still alive. He allowed an archaeological team from Wyoming to come in and dig.” His arm tightened around her slightly. “I was working construction.” She easily pictured him in a hard hat, standing precariously on a high beam with not a care in the world. “Wait, I forgot something,” he said. “They located the artifacts in 1989. I was a bouncer then.”

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“A bouncer?” He laughed. “Why are you so surprised?” “The way you were with Grant. You didn’t want to fight him. I could see that when you hesitated to hit him.” When he spoke again each word came out flat and concentrated. “I hate violence.” “Yet you took a job as a bouncer?” “Keeping the peace.” “Did you work in Gambit Creek?” “No. A cantina in Mexico called Santerra’s. Not a pretty place. I was there a few months before I came back to the States.” She didn’t allow his revelations to outweigh her curiosity. “What on earth were you doing in Mexico?” He stayed silent. She felt the wall go up cleanly, deliberately. Just when she thought she might get somewhere he’d hide his thoughts like at turtle hid in its shell. Maybe he was more like her than she’d guessed. Moving from job to job, place to place. Afraid of being somewhere too long, of becoming attached to things that could be torn from her in one horrible blow. She didn’t want to think about it now or endure the sharp pain that built behind her eyes from unshed tears. Instead she thought of Shane. The image of a bouncer didn’t fit him. A rancher. A strong, quiet man seemed closer to the truth. Here, on the land, in the increasing heat of the noonday sun, Shane had found his element. She sensed his admiration for the nature around him, and his reverence for protecting what he saw as his. Her respect for him deepened, but

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inside that regard lay a fear, one she couldn’t release until she understood his final secret. Too much pressure could make him withdraw to the way he’d been when she’d first met him, thornier than the nails and barb wire she’d discovered at the site. Earlier that morning, she’d followed him as he’d fed the small cache of pigs that grunted and squealed. Then she’d watched as he watered his vegetable garden. Now, as they rode on, she asked him about his tiny ranch. She felt him relax again, as if thankful she’d backed away from her earlier line of questioning. “A lot of people don’t realize that livestock takes time,” he said, the timbre of his voice vibrating deep in his chest and into her back. “Animals need to be tended, given water, and fed at the same time every day. I have only ten horses and that’s enough work as it is. But I have a hundred head of cattle.” “Don’t you have any help?” “Uncle Clement helps me when he can. I did have two ranch hands who helped me on a rotating basis parttime. Their father has a small ranch on the other side of Uncle Clements’ property. They’re riding in rodeos and want to devote more to bull riding than ranching.” “How do you manage?” “It hasn’t been easy. Some of it has been dumb luck and determination. I seem to have a lot of both. I’m going to start looking for some more help soon.” “What about you? When do you relax and have fun?” “Humph. I thought yesterday was pretty fun,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Right. And I’m a monkey’s uncle.”

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For several moments he was silent, and she could almost hear his mind turning. “I haven’t had fun in a long time, Emma. I’m not sure I even know what it is anymore.” “But you love your ranch.” “Yes, I love it here. At least I did. For four years I’ve had a taste of happiness.” He paused, as if looking for the right words. “I told you there’s a lot you don’t know about me.” “That’s evident. A construction worker, then a bouncer.” She heard him make a little noise, like he’d almost laughed but thought the better of it. “Before those jobs I’d already picked up my Bachelors in Business. I left the ranch to get away from bad memories. When I inherited this place from my father, I thought the memories would be gone. I thought they were until two months ago when the whole mess opened up again.” He shifted in the saddle and the horse moved along steadily, not even noticing the distribution in weight. “What happened?” Shane cleared his throat. “Something I’d put far behind me came roaring back. While I was in college, recruiters approached me from a government agency. I’d attended one of their seminars, and I seriously considered a career as an agent with their group. They promised me everything in the brochures. Excitement, adventure.” “Danger,” she said. She felt him nod. “Exactly. Then I reconsidered. I didn’t want a job where I was out of control. Where...I might have the chance to hurt someone.” The pain in his words became palpable, like a dull throb. “I didn’t want to be in any situation where violence might be required.”

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“Then what happened?” “They told me some things about my family...about my life. They had obviously checked into my father’s background, long and hard. Some of what they revealed I already suspected. Other things...” Emma felt his tension growing. “You mean they’d already done a background check on you before they interviewed you for the job? That’s not normal recruitment procedure, is it?” “No, it’s not normal. But they knew it would be easy to convince me I should join them. With what they knew they could drag my entire family through the dirt.” “That’s ridiculous and unethical. Why on earth would they go to such measures?” He remained quiet as he guided the mare onto a trail that Emma knew must lead to the top of the ridge. As they ascended slowly, the height made her look into the sky and away from the edge. Her heart banged a little unsteadily and she gripped his arm. “Because they needed me more than I needed them,” he said. “Who are they?” “Special Antiquities Recovery Team. Have you heard of them?” “No. But there are a lot of organizations worldwide that serve as watchdogs and file reports on stolen art, anthropological specimens, and other relics. It doesn’t surprise me that such an organization exists.” “SART is a lot more than a watch dog. They jump into situations where the average archaeologist wouldn’t even think of going. Into countries where insurgencies, wars, and corruption define how thin a line a SART agent has to walk in order to survive from day to day.”

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His voice had taken on a sharp edge, and her nerves jumped. “And you broke down and joined this SART team?” “Yeah.” “But I thought you said you were a construction worker and a bouncer?” “They were covers.” She took a deep breath and let out some of the tension. “I see. When did you quit working with SART?” His arm moved and his hand drifted upward until his thumb just touched the underside of one of her breasts. She shivered a little and wondered if he realized what he was doing. “When I heard that my father had died. They no longer had a hold on me then.” She heard the catch in his voice and she almost looked around to see if the pain that laced through his words would reflect on his face. But he went on, and she thought she must have imagined that furtive sound. “I was tired of working in places where people would rather shoot you than look at you. Trying to blend in, fit in with them is the hardest.” His voice sounded rough, as if heavy emotion gripped him. “Oh, Shane, how did you do it?” His laugh was more a grunt of derision. “Very, very well.” “And your parents? What did they think of your work?” “They didn’t know what I really did. My mother had divorced my father by the time I entered SART and she moved to New York. My father...well, my father thought I was a bum. He had high expectations of me running the ranch. He wanted to expand the size of the ranch and get more livestock. Yet I was drifting around the world doing

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these odd jobs...disappearing for months at a time. Half the time they didn’t know if I was dead or alive.” Emma’s heart constricted. Little did Shane know how much she understood his lifestyle. No, she hadn’t consorted with known criminals in order to jail them for antiquities theft, but she’d traveled around the world, seeing new faces, new places. She’d hoped with each new face, each new world, that she’d be more fulfilled and the guilt would disappear. The fulfillment remained short-lived and the guilt never relented. She swallowed hard and hot tears took her by surprise as they traced a path down her face. Sniffing, she pulled her sunglasses off and hoped he couldn’t see her tears. She took another diversion, another track to avoid the wound that festered within her. “What did SART hold over your head all those years?” she asked. “They wanted me because they’d been trying to finger my father for antiquities theft for years.” “Shane,” she whispered hoarsely, the ache deepening within her. Another tear trickled down her face. “How awful.” “It was true. I’d known since I was a little kid that he was doing something illegal. When I tried to approach my mother about it, she brushed me off. And I wanted to scream at her and ask her how she could put up with him—” He cut himself off, taking a deep, unsteady breath. “Why she didn’t leave him earlier?” Her tears came in earnest, dropping one by one. She must have made a sound, for he reached up and turned her face toward him. One of her tears fell on his hand. “Hey, what’s this?” he asked, his fingers caressing her jaw gently as his serious gaze touched her face.

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“Hay is for horses.” She turned her face out of his grip. “Are you all right?” “Family abuse...things like what you describe just bother me. It’s such a useless tragedy.” He didn’t say anything, and she wondered if he thought her weak because she cried. So intent had she been on his story that she’d missed the ascent to the top of Buzzard Ridge. Shane stopped his horse far back from the edge of the canyon, but she knew if she walked to the rim and peered through the brush, she’d see the excavation site far below. They sat without moving for several moments and she drank in the magnificent scenery. Thin, feathery clouds drifted high in the sky, a gentle breeze pushing them through the vivid blue background. Intense sun lay across the rocks, causing heat waves that shimmied before her eyes. Some of her sadness drained away in the presence of nature’s magnificence. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly. “The canyon walls look like solid gold.” Shane released the reins and his other arm came about her waist, drawing her full against him, his loins pressed tightly to her bottom. She inhaled sharply, feeling the heat and strength of him with a force that frightened and intrigued her. Leaning to the side slightly, so that his lips rested within a scant inch of touching her ear, he whispered, “Golden like your soft, soft hair. And your sun-kissed skin.” She’d never heard anything quite as erotic as the deep whiskey tones of his voice. Tongue-tied, she remained silent as his lips touched beneath her ear. Her heart raced, her breath coming faster, and the ache of bitter

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memories disappeared under the pleasure that darted over her skin. “Cold?” he asked huskily as his lips traveled to the side of her neck, nestling, trailing tenderly to her nape. He changed places, moving his attention to her left ear. “No,” she whispered, her voice a slender puff of sound as she took in a deep breath. He leaned back slowly and she instantly missed the carnal sensation of his lips against her. He gripped the pommel and slid from the saddle. As she looked down at him she caught in the sharp, vivid hue of his eyes, so much like the sky above. His gaze stayed vigilant and devouring, thrilling her deeply. Emma never thought a man would ever look at her this way. As he lifted his hands, she took the cue and swung her leg over the saddle. He clasped her waist and slowly lowered her, letting her body slide against his. She grasped his shoulders, anchoring to his solid, immobile strength so that she brushed against every firm inch of muscle. Slowly, slowly he let her slide down along his body until her feet touched the ground. Excitement winged through her senses, quickening her breath. Gripping her waist, he kept her flush against him and her hands rested on his chest, sensing the strength of hard muscles through his clothing. “Do you know how much danger you’re in?” he asked softly, holding her gaze. “From what?” He moved, barely a twitch of his head. “From me.” “You wouldn’t hurt me,” she said with conviction, knowing it in her bones. “I could. In more ways than you know.”

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“Because you’re a trained killer?” He nodded, and a sardonic smile barely touched his lips before it faded. “I can kill. But I never have. I’ve always managed to control a situation before it got that far.” Relief loosened the last of the tension from her body, and she allowed herself to relax against him. “That’s something to be proud of. You completed your missions and there was no need for...you don’t have a death on your conscious.” Unlike me. “And yet you’re afraid of me.” His gaze flickered relentlessly over her features, as if to memorize minute detail. “No,” she said, anxious he would pull away. He drew his fingers across her cheek in sweet homage. “You don’t trust me.” “Maybe not,” she said so softly she wasn’t sure she’d spoken the words or merely dreamed them. “Show me that I’m safe, Shane.” A cocky smile curved his lips as he traced her lower lip with his thumb. “You’re not safe.” As Emma’s senses took in the excitement of his skin against her lip, she saw things about him now with a clarity that fascinated her. The thickness of his eyelashes softened his solid gaze, and as his lips parted slightly, the strength of his jaw relaxed. “You’re trembling,” he said, his voice dropping low. She couldn’t deny that he’d generated the most extraordinary and disconcerting feelings. Confusion nagged

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her as tiny sparks of need exploded in her, each little ignition building until it throbbed in her belly. Every second more that he held her, she lost her will to move away. “Am I hurting you?” he asked. She licked her lips and knew that he saw the gesture. “No.” Shane dipped his head slightly, and as his arms slid around her, he reached up to cradle her neck. As she tipped her head back farther to look at him, her hat fell off. “Violence is in me, Emma. And I don’t know when it might come out or if when it does...if I can stop it.” His gaze searched her face, as if trying to read her mind. “I don’t want to hurt you.” All thoughts of answering him receded when he lowered his lips until they almost touched hers. Time to retreat, Emma, if you’re going to. But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t deny herself a few moments of pleasure. She knew, without a doubt, that his kiss would be paradise. As if giving him permission to touch her, she allowed her eyelids to close. His lips brushed hers in a feather caress. Gently he stroked, brushing back and forth with soft attention. As a soft breeze danced around them, Emma’s world narrowed to the scintillating sensation of his mouth shaping hers tenderly. Every breath he took, every gentle sweep of his lips on hers built an aching need. She wanted more. So few times in her life had she experienced a peak moment where time rolled away, pinpointing everything down to a sharp increment where nothing mattered but now and all other thoughts cut away. This was one of those times.

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He released his grip on her nape, as if assured she wouldn’t flee. His arms tightened around her, molding her as his hands moved on her back. His thighs were taut, his chest crushing her breasts with a pleasant pain. His soft, exploring kiss deepened, his tongue brushing over her lips with a teasing sensuality that thrummed and send quivers of excitement racing straight into her stomach and between her thighs. In all her life, Emma had never experienced a desire as strong as the one she felt for Shane. Regardless of the questions bombarding her mind, the doubts that threatened, nothing mattered but this long, sweet moment in his arms. Slowly he caressed her back, then reached for her buttocks. As he cupped her, she gasped and his tongue took her mouth, caressing and dipping, echoing the carnal movement as he rotated his hips against her. Answering a primal need, she plunged her fingers into his thick hair and his hat fell off. She pressed herself into him as if they could become one. Everything about him pleased her, crazed her with need. As she met his tongue with her own, caressing hungrily, a sense of inevitability moved within her. A low whimper escaped her throat and he reached up to cup her breast. She gasped into his mouth as she felt the gentle brush of his thumb over her nipple. As he moved his hips against her once again she felt the unmistakable proof of his desire. Her nipples tightened and ached with the needed to be touched. Tasted. Suddenly he drew away and the world came crashing back.

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Chapter 11 “I CAN’T,” Shane said huskily as he held Emma at arms length. “If I don’t stop now, I’ll make love to you right here. Right now.” The slight flush in his cheeks, the unsteadiness in his voice, the quickness of his breathing...all of it betrayed him. He wanted her. Yet he was telling her that he couldn’t go further, couldn’t give her what she wanted. What did she want? A few stolen kisses? A little flirtation? A short affair that would burst like a supernova, bringing her a deeper pleasure than she’d ever experienced? No. Because it would have to end. Why go through the pleasure if you knew the happiness couldn’t last? She took a deep breath, trying to steady the drumming of her heart, but she couldn’t speak. Instead she watched as he turned his back to her. A dismal ache formed in her heart when he remained silent. He walked toward the edge of the ridge and the closer he got to the deadly drop off, a notch of fear rose, unreasonable and unbidden, into her psyche. “Shane, don’t go so close to the edge,” she said suddenly. “Please.” Keeping his back to her he asked, “Are you afraid I’ll step off?” A shiver ran through her body, and she crossed her arms . “Of course not. It’s just not safe.” “Probably not. They found Sadie’s body at the bottom of the ridge.” He took a couple of steps back.

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“Oh, my God.” She put a hand to her mouth, shocked. “I didn’t realize. No one ever told me that.” “She may have fallen. Or she may have jumped when she’d had enough.” She wondered if he’d thought about ending it all. If his life had once been so unbearable that he’d contemplated a swift leap into eternity. The thought of him dying pierced her with dread. Before she could speak, though, he continued. “People speculated that she was pushed but that was never proven. Sometimes when I stand up here, I think I can hear her voice. Telling me that she had secrets, and that the secrets are in your excavation, waiting to be found.” He turned around, pinning her with his bright gaze. A grisly thought came to her mind. “You think she was killed because someone thought she was wealthy?” “It’s possible. But as I told you when we first met, I don’t know that there are any valuables. Legends are legends.” She thought back to the ring that she’d seen in Grant’s RV. “But there might be more jewels. I know I saw that ring at Grant’s RV.” Shane looked at the ground, and once again she sensed more going on than he wanted to tell her. “And now the ring’s missing,” she said. “Perhaps I was attacked because someone believes there’s treasure and they wanted the ring.” “The real question is how they knew the ring was in the Grant’s RV. That’s why I wanted you out of here. These people mean business.” “Who are they?”

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“People who wouldn’t hesitate to twist your beautiful neck if they thought it would suit them.” His words came harsh and dark, like the taste of bitter coffee on her tongue. “Why do you want to protect me from them?” His shoulders bunched and flexed as he shrugged. “You really have to ask that?” Recalling the day they’d been in The Golden Brand together and he’d twisted her words, turning her questions back upon her, she said, “You know I wouldn’t leave.” “I’ve guessed that by now.” “Tell me more, Shane. Tell me what’s going on with the excavation. Does it have something to do with SART? You said everything was fine here until two months ago.” “I can’t tell you any more.” She sighed, a tremor of disappointment making her voice unsteady. “You’re a hypocrite.” “I’ve been called worse.” “And you have the hide of a snake. Slippery and deceitful. You act like we’re enemies and refuse to tell me the whole story. Not knowing the whole package frightens me.” For long moments Shane didn’t speak. His gaze, warm and laced with barely controlled need, melted her bones and made her weak in the knees. “I’ll tell you what’s scary,” he said, finally. “Having you in my arms. It’s like the world doesn’t exist. I could get lost there and never surface.” Stunned by the revelation in his words, she froze. He’d described exactly what she’d felt when he kissed her.

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He was also doing it again. For the second time in less than a couple of minutes he’d thrown her back with the force of a bomb by saying things she didn’t expect. “I can see why you made a good agent for SART. There’s no getting a straight answer out of you.” She allowed herself a small, compliant smile. “Hmm. Well, maybe you’re not asking me the right questions.” Low and husky, his tone rippled over her like silk, caressing her ears. When she didn’t reply, he spoke again. “I used to come up here every day after I’d finished with all the chores.” He turned away again, taking in the scope of the miles of wilderness around him. “I wondered if Sadie ever regretted cutting herself off from people. Did she wish she’d found something more? Something deep and meaningful?” Emma walked toward him, knowing that he could hear the crunch of the rocks under her feet. When she stood behind him, she took a chance. She placed a hand on his shoulder, enjoying the coiled strength under her fingers. He stiffened, but he didn’t turn around. “Maybe she did have a meaningful life,” she murmured. “How could she? She was alone.” “You’re alone, Shane. But you told me you were happy on the ranch until recently. I sense a strength in you that doesn’t need anyone or any thing. There’s nothing wrong with being self-sufficient.” She swallowed hard. “You’re not tied down and you don’t have to answer to anyone else’s whims.” He pivoted toward her, his eyes haunted with years of secrets and pain. Her hand slipped from his shoulder.

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“What about you, Emma? Don’t you ever need someone?” Would he notice the way her pulse leapt when he spoke in that intimate, hoarse tone? “I stopped being needy a long time ago. I realized that not everyone is cut out to bond.” He reached up slowly, almost reluctantly, to touch the bandage on her head. “Or maybe, like Sadie, you had love once and let it go.” Her heart expanded with an unsteady, tumultuous emotion she didn’t want to define. “I’ve never stayed in one place long enough for relationships.” “Work?” She nodded. “Yes. And I like it that way.” “What’s the old saying about the pot calling the kettle black?” Frowning, she gave him her most disapproving look. “What do you mean?” “You can’t practice what you preach.” Mild animosity, similar to what she’d experienced when she first met him, rolled through her. “Full of adages today, aren’t we?” “I can feel it in you.” He traced the delicate line of her collarbone with his index finger. “You want me to reveal everything I know, but you’re hiding from me. Something is eating you deep inside, Emma. If it’s anything like what I’ve experienced over the years, I know how you feel.” How could he know? He’d never killed anyone. “You couldn’t know,” she said as he stepped a little closer. That damnable smile flickered over his lips. “Why? Do you still think I’m a dumb cowboy?”

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His touch of humor loosened her a little. “Of course not.” She looked past him, into the sky where the wispy clouds grew darker, heralding storms for the afternoon. She twisted her lips, attempting to smile, but certain it was more like a grimace. Shane moved closer, this time cupping her face in both his hands as he looked down at her. She reached up to touch one of his hands. She ached, a desire to kiss him potent in her blood. “Sweetheart,” he whispered. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t call me that.” “You liked it when I called you that the last time.” He didn’t release her, but his eyes narrowed. “What’s changed?” “It reminds me of things I want to forget. Besides, there is nothing sweet about me.” He leaned in closer, his lips so close, she only needed to reach up and pull his head down to her. “Maybe Sadie came here to forget. What can I do to make you forget?” Like the wavering of a match flame, she saw the old Shane, hard and cool, then the warm, passionate man she’d discovered in his embrace. He was searching for something illusive. In that moment she tossed off a couple more inhibitions, wanting to give him whatever he needed to erase the wounds, the hurt that obviously dwelled deep in his heart. Perhaps in return she’d have moments of enjoyment. She could leave Gambit Creek when this was over with a memory of sweetness and passion. What would it take to make her forget the past? A night in Shane’s arms? She took a deep breath. “Here’s another old saying for you. It goes something like better to have loved once than to have never loved at all.”

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“Have you ever loved like that?” “No,” she said truthfully. “Never.” She smiled. He returned her grin, the warmth of it glowing over her like the hot rays of sun that warmed the earth on a cold winter day. Emma felt herself sinking, drifting toward something that felt suspiciously like more than admiration. She dangled over the edge of the ridge, about ready to take a step off. She could be certain that at the bottom was the end to all pain. He released her face and she lost the moment. As large as the space between one canyon wall to the next, a gap existed between them and she didn’t know if they could cross it. Shane had his own little world here in Gambit Creek. Moving into his territory too far could be fatal to a woman’s heart. She walked away from the ledge and went to stand by the horse. Charlie walked up to her, but she barely noticed. “I want to go back to the site. If there’s something down there people are willing to hurt others for, we’d better find it before they do.” AS THEY CAME to the edge of the clearing where the site lay, Shane’s senses heightened, broadening and readying for trouble. The gun in his saddlebag brought some consolation, but Emma could be in danger just being with him. Then again, if she stayed at the ranch house she could also be in jeopardy. No matter what he did, her life was threatened.

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In danger from the people who wanted Sadie’s treasure. In danger from his raging hormones. Shane felt the ache in his loins like a fire. Never, in all his life, had a woman made him dizzy with longing, this intoxicated with a need to sink deep within her. He’d been crazy to think he could withstand the hot press of her bottom against his groin, or the softness of her within his arms. But he couldn’t allow her to let her ride alone when she’d been injured the day before. If she fell from the horse because she didn’t feel well, he’d never forgive himself. He sighed. He rode on a thin edge, wavering between losing control and pushing her away from him entirely. Neither alternative appealed to him. In both directions lay pain. He’d never seen an indication she’d go for a meaningless affair, and he found he didn’t want one. Yet forcing her to leave his ranch where he couldn’t keep an eye on her would be unthinkable. Whether he liked it or not, Emma had fallen dab smack in the middle of the mess and there was nothing he could do. Nothing but protect her. There was one other alternative, one he’d have to consider. He could tell SART that she knew everything, and request round-the-clock protection for her in Denver. At least she’d be out of the way in case something happened. SART regional director, Miller Freehelm, had promised to make contact with him later tonight. Perhaps at that time, he’d admit to Freehelm things had gotten serious and a civilian had been drawn into the fray. A true hard-ass, Freehelm would have a whale when he realized Shane had revealed his connection with SART. As Shane dismounted from the horse and then helped Emma down, he made sure he didn’t let his hands

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linger on her waist. He knew if he did he’d want to draw her close. Walking over to the pit, Emma looked at the site, and then leaned down to remove the rocks that held the tarp over the hole. “This doesn’t look right.” “What’s wrong?” He started to help her. The answer became clear when they pulled away the tarp. Pitted and scarred by rampant digging, the trench looked like a shovel had ravaged it. Shane cursed. “Those bastards,” she whispered. “Is this the work of the antiquities thieves you’ve been after?” “Possibly.” “Isn’t SART supposed to stop this sort of thing? Where the hell was protection for the site?” she asked, her tone turning sharp and accusatory. “I’m all the protection the site has.” Putting his hands on his hips, he shifted from one booted foot to another as he assessed the damage. “Why didn’t you protect the site if it was your job?” Her pretty eyes flashed with annoyance. She tucked a loose tendril of her hair behind her ear and glared at him. “If you hadn’t been chasing after me, you could have done your job. Isn’t that what SART wanted you to do?” “They don’t think there are any trinkets to be found here in the first place,” he said quietly. “What?” “Two months ago I realized someone had been poking around this area. A couple of my fences had been cut.

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Tire tracks. I was determined to keep a watch out for whoever was trespassing, but without results. About then Miller Freehelm, the regional director for SART, contacted me and asked me to come back into SART temporarily. He’d heard that two elusive individuals with backgrounds in antiquities theft had escaped from a jail in Texas and might be heading this way.” He pushed a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I refused to sign up with SART again. Like I told you, I’d given that part of my life up. Then Uncle Clement found the necklace. I realized that my father hadn’t found Sadie’s treasure. Maybe the cut fences indicated trespassers attempting to locate the booty. Whether there was treasure or not, I didn’t want people mucking about on my land. I told Freehelm to sign me up again.” More missing pieces must have fallen into place for Emma. Her eyes flashed with cold fire that spoke of anger. “And when Grant and I came to do the excavation and ended up on your side of the ranch, you suspected us.” “Yes and no. Freehelm thoroughly checked Wilder’s records. Nothing on his dossier indicated he was anything more than an archaeologist struggling to keep his business afloat.” She leaned over and retrieved a palm-sized rock and he wondered if she imagined a dozen ways to bash him over the head. “And what did you find out about me?” “That you’ve been working with Grant for a short time. You have a modest apartment you rarely spend time in. Your mother and father retired to Longmont a month ago and you don’t talk to them much, if ever. Before you acquired your job with Grant Wilder, you were on a dig in South America that was abruptly cut short by a small military uprising. You got out by the seat of your pretty ass because the colonel who lead the insurrection liked

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blondes and allowed you and your crew to leave before the border closed permanently. You’ve spent a large part of your life on archaeological expeditions in Egypt, Peru, France, Germany, and England. Not exactly a dull life, Emma.” She tossed the rock from palm to palm. He half expected her to hurl the stone at him any minute. Instead a tiny smile twitched across her lips. “I suppose you also know where I buy my red underwear.” Uncontrollably, he smiled. “Victoria’s Secret.” Her mouth popped open again and she dropped the rock into the trench. “You really found that out through SART?” “No. The bra and panties you left at the ranch house the other day. I read the tags.” Pink tinged her cheekbones. “Oh.” Then her cheeks paled again, as if she’d thought of something horrible. “How much can you find out about a person’s life, Shane?” “With my connections, probably about anything I want.” When she didn’t speak, he grew suspicious. Obviously she hid something else from him. One part of him wanted to demand answers. The other part of him knew it wasn’t fair to expect her to say more when he hadn’t revealed everything to her about himself. He’d let her keep the secret for now. “I’m beginning to wonder about Grant,” he said, switching avenues. “It looks to me like he’s left the area for good. And last night, while I was away from the ranch, whoever is in on this ransacked your site.” “You’re sure it was last night?” “It had to be. I checked out the site before I went looking for you at the campground. Nothing had been

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disturbed at that time.” He could almost see her quick mind working at the speed of lightning. After giving him a narrow, assessing look, she bent over the trench again. She looked through the upturned dirt, using a trowel to see if anything valuable had been filched by the cretins that had savaged the pit. Nothing. “Well, either the treasure was here and is gone, or they hacked away and didn’t find anything.” She stood and tossed the trowel to the side, disgust on her face. “I wish I’d kept my hands on that ring.” “Maybe it’s better that you didn’t.” He moved to stand next to her and reached to touch her shoulder. “If you had it in your possession there’s a good chance you’d be in danger. Whoever these thieves are, they’d come looking for the ring.” He looked up at the ridge where they had been and the surrounding mountainous terrain. “I’m not comfortable with this set up as it is. Let’s go.” Her eyes narrowed and she reminded him of a sleek, pale cat. She might tear a piece of his hide at any moment. Seeing the fire behind that often cool and collected exterior excited him. He’d only touched the surface of that bonfire, and despite the circumstances, his desire for her hadn’t lessened. He kept his touch light on her shoulder. “Come on,” he said again. “Let’s get out of here.” They headed back to the ranch house, and all during the trip Shane knew someone watched them. The feeling didn’t really make sense. Charlie probably would have realized an intruder lurked and started barking. But the sensitive dog hadn’t barked once or acted nervous. He shrugged off his apprehension and concentrated on ignoring the rampant craving running through him to send the horse galloping back to the house.

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Once they’d put the big mare back in her stall, Shane noticed how stiffly Emma walked on the way back to the house. “Saddle sore?” he asked. “You could say that.” She rubbed the back of her neck as they went in the back door, Charlie trailing behind them. Shane removed his boots and she slipped off her athletic shoes. “Why don’t you take a hot bath and relax?. I’ll make us something to eat.” He came up behind her and touched her shoulders. She twitched slightly. “Easy. You’re as jumpy as a filly.” “I guess it’s this whole situation.” “Such as?” She laughed, but not with humor. “If you’d have asked me last week if I thought everything that’s occurred in the last couple of days would happen, I’d say you were crazy.” “This coming from a woman who scraped her way out of South America simply because she’s beautiful as hell.” As his fingers kneaded her tense shoulder muscles, he felt her shudder again. Did she think he was her enemy after everything that had happened? She turned, breaking his grip on her shoulders. Her expression transformed to a worried frown. “I have a terrible feeling.” “What is it?” “Something must have happened to Grant. I didn’t want to think about it until now, but he hasn’t turned up

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or tried to contact me. It doesn’t make sense.” He nodded. “Maybe. Are you sure this isn’t a temper tantrum? Didn’t you say he has this habit of running off whenever he’s angry so that he can cool down?” “Yes.” She pulled her braid over her shoulder and removed the small red rubber tie that held the braid together. “But he usually isn’t gone this long. I figured he would try and contact me by now. Either to apologize for what happened yesterday or to fire me.” As Emma unraveled the braid, he wanted to do it for her, feel the texture of her silky hair against his fingertips. Instead he clenched his hands into fists. “There is the chance something has happened to him. The same person who attacked you may have paid a visit to Grant at his RV earlier looking for the ring.” As she finished undoing the braid, her thick hair fell in a gold wave over her shoulder. “You sound doubtful.” He could tell she wanted the truth and nothing less would do. “Did you ever consider it might have been Grant who attacked you?” She speared him with a dagger sharp look. “No. I mean he’s touchy sometimes, but I’d never believe he’d actually hurt me.” “He shoved you to the ground yesterday.” She leaned back against the clothes washer. “He’s...well...he hasn’t exactly been normal during this excavation.” “What do you mean?” She shrugged and laced her fingers together. “Yesterday morning, before we went to the site...he kissed me.”

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A scintillating emotion slammed through him and instantly came to a boil, but he took a deep breath and stamped it down. He tilted her face up with his index finger. When she looked at him her eyes reflected something warm and interesting back at him. A challenge perhaps or maybe a request, but for what he wasn’t sure. “And did you want him to kiss you?” Simultaneous emotions chased over her face. “Of course not. He’s my boss. We’ve always had a professional relationship.” “And just out of the blue he kisses you?” His hand slid down to her shoulder. She pulled away from his grip, stepping to the side to lean her hip against the washer. “Yes. Out of the blue. I tried to shove him away, but he kept kissing me. Finally he let me go.” The thought of Wilder putting his hands on her again made Shane’s fingers itch to find the piss ant and give him a good, quick kick in the ass. “Bastard,” he said. “Did he hurt you?” “No.” She cracked a smile and her lovely face lost some of the tension. “Even before the shoving match between you two, I thought of quitting because of that kiss. I’ve never led Grant to believe I wanted anything more than a professional relationship.” The phone rang, startling them both, and Shane went into the kitchen to answer. “Shane?” The voice was a thin whisper he didn’t recognize immediately. He casually turned toward the door linking the living room with the kitchen, and saw Emma go down the hall toward his bedroom. “Shane, it’s Aunt Josy.”

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“Hi. I almost didn’t recognize your voice.” She heaved a sigh, long and shuddering. Instantly his senses went on alarm mode. “Aunt Josy?” “Shane, Clement’s been hurt. You’ve got to come to the hospital.”

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Chapter 12 EMMA RETRIEVED her brush from her suitcase and sat on the bed. She leaned over so her long hair fell forward and she brushed it over her head with slow, even strokes. Maybe this ordinary ritual would untangle her emotions as well as it did her hair. Otherwise she would leave Shane’s ranch, the excavation, and her job. The longer she stayed in his presence and the more she knew about him, the deeper she sank into his life. Even the unknown elements of his disconcerting past with SART didn’t alter her growing need to learn more about him. He’d shown her he understood how a person’s past could ruin their future. Maybe that drew her to him the most. The feeling he knew her in some vast, indefinable way that no one ever had before. She’d retreated to the bedroom because she needed distance and time to process the overload of emotions and events that had occurred over the last two days. His kiss today had rocked her deep, striking a match and lighting a fire that hadn’t extinguished. She smiled. When she’d told him about Grant kissing her she hadn’t expected the unmistakable flash of anger in his expression. And maybe...jealousy. She heard Shane’s deep voice become more urgent and she swept her hair back as she raised her head, her brushing motion coming to a halt. A few seconds later he came into the bedroom, stopping at the threshold, bracing his hand against the door jam. She focused on his pale face and the strain of worry across his features.

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“What is it?” she asked. “It’s my Uncle Clement. Someone ran him off the road on the way into Gambit Creek.” “Oh, my God,” she gasped. “Is he all right?” “No.” His sharp tone, the tight line of his lips frightened her. Dropping her brush on the bed, she went to him, her heart drumming quick in her breast. “Is he—” “He’s alive.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He’s in a coma. They won’t know his possibilities for recovery for another twenty-four hours. I need to go to him.” “Of course. I’ll stay here and—” “No.” His gaze softened, and he looked at her steadily for several seconds. “I want you with me. It’s not safe for you to be alone.” Emma nodded, letting her own concern for Clement show through. She put her hands on Shane’s chest and caressed him for several seconds. When she realized what she did, she stopped. He closed his eyes as she touched him, and for a moment his face showed pain, fear, and loss. He cursed low and she almost didn’t hear him. Desperately she searched for some way to reassure him. “Your Uncle Clement is a strong man. He’ll pull through.” His eyes snapped open, and he released her arms. “All of this is happening because of me.” She frowned, clasping at his shirt. “That’s ridiculous. How could it be your fault?” “Because it wasn’t an accident, damn it.” His eyes seemed almost glazed, pain etching them into a dark lapis

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blue. “It wasn’t an accident.” She stared at him blankly, unwilling to let this disturbing information take hold. “You think the people who destroyed my excavation are the ones who did it?” He turned and walked down the hall. She followed him. “It had to be. Whoever pushed him off the side of the road fled the scene. Another car going by stopped to help my uncle.” “But you can’t be sure this had anything to do with the excavation.” “I can. Aunt Josy said Uncle Clement was on the way to the Sheriff’s Office with some information. She didn’t know what it was because he wouldn’t tell her, but apparently whatever he knew was enough to almost get him killed.” They hurried out to the pickup truck. Shane drove the old vehicle with a speed verging on reckless as they bounced over the rutted road leading off his property. “Slow down,” she said, pulling her seat belt tighter. “It isn’t going to do your uncle any good if we end up in a ditch.” He immediately relieved some of the pressure on the accelerator and he glanced over at her for a second. He smiled and relief flowed gently through her. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Normally I’d never drive this fast.” “Right,” she said, smiling back. “I remember the first time I saw you roaring up to the site.” She patted the dashboard of the lime green contraption he called a truck. “You must have put your foot through the floorboard attempting to stop this thing.” His grin broadened and the sight of it made her pulse quicken with pure, female appreciation.

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They came to the end of the road that intersected the two lane paved road into town. Shane stopped as several cars sped by and waited for traffic to pass. As his smile turned devilish, he winked at her. “And what did you think of me the first time you saw me?” “You don’t want to know.” “Yes, I do.” He pulled onto the road and immediately picked up speed. “You don’t.” “I do.” He didn’t give up the entire time it took them to reach the hospital. As soon as they pulled into the parking lot, however, the seriousness and worry returned to his face. At least for a few moments he’d taken his mind off his uncle’s accident. They learned Josy was with Clement, and that his condition had been rated as serious. He’d sustained a broken leg and severe concussion, and the doctors worried about how long he’d remained unconscious. The accident had happened only a few miles from town that morning. Josy had tried to contact Shane during the interlude when they’d been at Buzzard Ridge and the excavation. Dr. Minnegrode, who had taken care of Emma when Shane had brought her into the emergency room, said, “Perhaps you’d like to get some coffee and wait. Mrs. O’Donnell may be there with him a long time.” Emma watched Shane’s jaw tighten, lines of concern creasing his face, betraying that he might argue. “Are you sure Shane can’t also go into his uncle’s room?” Emma asked for the second time. “It’s all right, Emma,” Shane said. “Rules are rules.”

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Dr. Minnegrode looked at the much larger man next to him and she saw the indecision in the doctor’s eyes. He tugged on the stethoscope around his neck, then looked back at Shane. “All right. I don’t imagine it will hurt anything.” Shane’s eyes lightened and he relaxed visibly. “Thank you, Dr. Minnegrode.” After Shane left, Dr. Minnegrode looked at her inquisitively. “What on earth is going on with this family?” “What do you mean?” Emma asked. “First you come in with a concussion, then Clement O’Donnell.” She straightened to her full height and towered over him by a good inch. “I’m not a part of their family.” He nodded. “I’m sorry. I thought you were Shane’s fiancée or girlfriend.” Surprise kept her mute for a few moments. “No, of course not.” Dr. Minnegrode smiled. “Sorry again. It’s just that when Shane was waiting to find out how you were, he paced like a madman in the waiting room. I’d never seen a more worried man in all my life. Until today, of course.” Dr. Minnegrode left before she could respond. Ruminating, Emma went to the cafeteria, knowing that both Shane and Josy would be in Clement’s room for some time. The cafeteria was virtually deserted; a young woman sat at one table feeding a baby with a bottle. As Emma purchased coffee, she thought about the doctor’s assumption about her relationship with Shane. Guilty satisfaction ran through her. Shane had displayed that much anxiety for her? Then she felt ashamed. Shane didn’t deserve the worry she’d caused him. She recalled the horrified expression on Shane’s face when he’d seen her kneeling in the mud, blood streaming down her face. The way he’d touched her, held her, kissed her. Shane

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did care about her, at least a little. She sat down at a small table and almost burned her tongue on the coffee. The heat vaulted her from the stunned shock she’d been hovering in since she’d heard that Clement had been in an accident. Her heart ached for Shane and Josy, and for herself. She’d come to like Clement in the short time she’d known him and hoped fervently that he’d wake soon and the doctors would declare he would be all right. If anything happened to Clement, she knew Shane would avenge him if it took the rest of his life. Shane was fiercely protective of those he loved. Death. She shook her head to clear the horrid thought. As she sipped the coffee, bitter, harsh memories renewed in her mind. Doug laughing and playing with the family golden retriever, Mack. Doug taunting her, telling her that mom and dad loved him best. Tears welled in her eyes. She put her cup down and covered her eyes, afraid the tears would escape. A pounding ache started in her temple behind the bandage. “You all right, Emma?” Emma started and looked up to see Josy standing by the table. In seconds Emma took in her appearance. Josy’s eyes were red-rimmed, her face pale. “Josy,” she whispered, taking the older woman’s hand. “How is Clement?” Josy sank into the chair next to Emma, retaining her tight grip on her hand. “Dr. Minnegrode looked in on him a moment ago and his vital signs are improving.”

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“Thank heavens.” Josy’s weak smile flickered across her lips quickly. “Where is Shane?” Emma asked. “He’s with Clement.” She sighed. “I’m worried about Shane. He’s got that hell-bent-for-leather look on his face. You know which look I mean, don’t you?” Josy released Emma and clasped her hands in her lap. “I’m afraid he’ll go on a rampage and something equally awful is going to happen to him.” Emma remembered Shane saying that there was violence in him, but she hadn’t taken it seriously. Disturbed, Emma leaned forward. “Has Shane been violent in the past?” Josy glanced around the room as if afraid someone might hear her. “No. He’s gone out of his way to avoid violence. But I’m afraid he thinks it’s genetic.” “What?” “Genetic. Shane’s father was a violent man.” So many things fell into place at that moment, that Emma didn’t speak as she absorbed the information. Instead she took a deep drink of her coffee. “Was Shane beaten by his father?” Josy looked up. “No. No. But his father threatened violence. It was always in his vocabulary whenever he wanted Shane to do something. Shane was a difficult boy growing up. At first, we thought he needed more discipline. But we saw how tough his father was with him, and strict discipline didn’t make any difference.” “Did Shane get in trouble with the law?” “He came close a couple of times. His father was furious. Clement and I were very busy with the ranch. We

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didn’t realize...” When Josy didn’t finish, Emma reached for her hand, noting the strain on the other woman’s face. “Shane worked hard on the ranch and did a good job. He also helped Clement and I when he could. But one day things got out of hand.” The suspense rose in Emma and leaned forward. “What happened?” Shane walked into the room right then, breaking the opportunity. Emma saw him first, and as he came in the room, the weariness on his face troubled her. “How’s your uncle?” He put a hand on both women’s shoulders. “The same.” Disappointment drew more lines in Josy’s face. “I’m going back to his room. Why don’t you two go home and get some rest?” “No way,” Shane said. “I’m not leaving here until he wakes up. We can camp out in the waiting room.” Josy smiled feebly and embraced her nephew. Tears came to Emma’s eyes again as she watched Shane hold his aunt. Love shone in his eyes for his aunt, deep and abiding. After the brief hug, Josy left the room. Shane hung his head for a moment, his hands on his hips. His eyes closed and she wondered if he fought back tears of his own. Unable to stand the sight of him in emotional pain, she went to him, placing gentle fingers on his shoulder. “Shane?” He looked up, and then he smiled. She was relieved to see tension loosen from his stance. “I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into this.” He took her hand and clasped it as they moved out of the cafeteria. “Come on. Let’s find a

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comfortable couch in the waiting room. It’s going to be a long night.” “YOU SCREWED IT up,” the tall man said to his companion in the room. “Royally hosed up. And damn it, you’ve got to stop coming here. Someone is going to see you and think something is fishy.” The smaller man moved from the shadowy corner of the room into the arch of light thrown off by the overhead lamp. His expression jumped from disgruntled to worry. “What if Clement wakes up and can tell them who ran him off the road?” The tall man shrugged. “At this point I’m not sure if it’s such a bad thing if he does wake up and tell what he saw. If you’d done a better job and killed him when you had the chance none of this would be happening. Maybe you deserve to go down.” “If I go down, you go down with me.” The tall man smirked. “You can’t be serious. You don’t think anyone would believe your ramblings?” The shorter man’s lips twitched with annoyance and his fingers clenched into fists. He wanted to reach out for the superior-acting bastard in front of him. Who the hell did the man think he was anyway? Untouchable? “Right. I’m going to get out of the car and finish the job on Clement O’Donnell. That would have been real smooth. As it was a car came shortly after Clement went off the road. If I’d have stayed there and the witness saw me—” “You would have bluffed your way through it. You’re a good bluffer. It’s one of the reasons I hired you. You lie so well it’s pathetic.”

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Gritting his teeth, the shorter man kept his temper. Just barely. “We’ve got to finish it as soon as possible. If the treasure isn’t found soon that damn woman archaeologist will discover it.” When he saw the reluctance in the other man’s eyes, he continued. “I can do this job. If the treasure is worth the amount of money we think it is, we can all retire to a cozy place somewhere and forget this place even exists.” Annoyed, the tall man wandered to the window of his hotel room and looked at the bustle of the main drag in Gambit Creek. “If you keep your mouth shut and do as your told, the cut won’t be reduced. Continue to defy me and I’ll chop a healthy portion of your cut and you’ll be lucky to see a dime.” “We just need to find the treasure—” “I don’t need to do anything. You need to find a way to put a stop to this crap right now. Put them out of my misery, and do it quickly.” EMMA WOKE FROM a restless sleep on the uncomfortable couch in the waiting room. She realized she’d been leaning against Shane and that his arm lay firmly around her shoulders. He sat in a sprawl, his legs apart, his right arm dangling off the edge of the couch, and his head tilted back onto the vinyl seat. A dark shadow of beard crossed his face. She almost brushed her hands through his heavy hair and along that rough morning beard. Instead, she contemplated a trip to the cafeteria. Her stomach rolled with hunger. Last night’s feast had consisted of a quick candy bar. Neither Shane nor Josy had been able to eat a thing and she didn’t blame them. If it were her uncle...or her husband....

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A vision of Shane popped into her mind. Oh, Lord. She shouldn’t, couldn’t think of him that way. If she did it would be admitting that in her daydreams she thought of Shane as more than a friend. Curiosity burned a hole in her. She wished Josy had had a chance to tell her about Shane. Had Shane actually done something so brutal in his past that now he couldn’t abide the thought of violence? All through the night they had waited for word on Clement’s condition. Nothing had changed. Silently she sent up a prayer that Clement would wake soon. Officer Mick Johnson had stopped by late that evening to ask them questions about what had happened to Clement. Emma also discussed the possibility of submitting a missing persons on Grant, but not enough time had gone by to consider Grant a missing person. His absence had started to look suspicious to the police department, according to Officer Johnson. Looking around the sterile walls of the hospital, she moved a little and Shane awoke. He pulled his arm from around her and blinked into the bright lights overhead. He passed a hand over his face. “What time is it?” “Six.” He groaned and stood, stretching his muscled arms high above him. “What a night. I dreamed I was at your excavation and that a giant treasure chest was trying to grab me and pull me down into the pit.” His levity took her off guard and she chuckled. Josy came into the room shortly thereafter and the three discussed whether to go to the cafeteria for coffee and breakfast. A doctor walked into the room and Emma recognized him from earlier that morning when she’d headed

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down the hall to the rest room. He nodded and smiled at the three of them. “Mrs. O’Donnell, there’s been a change for the better in your husband’s condition. He’s awake and asking for you.” Josy let out a squeak of delight, and hugged both Shane and Emma. “I DON’T EVEN remember that part of yesterday,” Clement said, his craggy features sharpening with concentration. After an okay from the doctor, Clement was allowed multiple visitors. Cards and flowers had already started arriving at the hospital from Clement’s friends around Gambit Creek. “All I remember is waking up yesterday morning and having breakfast. Then I went out to check on some cattle. After that everything is a blur.” Emma, Shane, and Josy surrounded his bed and Officer Johnson jotted down notes. Clement’s cheeks had returned to their healthy rosy shade. Emma’s relief, though, didn’t extend too far. The ‘accidents’ were getting more threatening by the minute. First the attack on her and now Clement’s car wreck. Fear crawled along her skin like the tiny steps of a million ants. She shivered in the cool hospital room. “The doctor said it might be some time before you get that part of your memory back. If ever,” Shane said. Josy touched her husband’s hand gently. “Don’t tire yourself.” Clement smiled at his wife. “Now don’t you go worrying about me. It’s the rest of you I’m concerned about.” The young officer stopped writing in his notebook and looked at Clement, then Shane. “Is there something

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here I should know?” “Ask the police chief,” Shane said. “He’s got all the pertinent details to fill you in. In the meantime, I want someone to stay with my uncle and aunt at all times.” Clement’s expression turned grim. “Shane, take care. These characters mean business.” He reached for Josy’s hand. “And don’t you think of leaving this room. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Josy frowned. “Why would I think of leaving you, old man? Look what kind of trouble you get into the minute I let you out of my sight.” They all laughed and Shane said, “You listen to her and don’t worry about us.” Clement shifted on the hospital bed and glanced at Officer Johnson. “I really want to tell you more, but I can’t remember a damned thing.” “Don’t you think that’s enough questions for now?” Shane asked. The officer glanced at Shane’s towering presence almost nervously, then returned to scribbling on his notepad. “All of it is necessary, as you well know.” “Give Johnson a break,” Clement said. “He’s only trying to do his job.” “Humph.” Shane looked at Emma and then at his aunt and uncle. “I can see you’re in good hands. I’m taking Emma back to the house.” On the road back to the ranch house, Shane stayed silent. He stared with stony-faced concentration at the road in front of him. This time he drove slowly. When they arrived at the ranch, they found Charlie enthusiastic to see them. Shane put Charlie outside so she

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could get a good run. Then he turned to Emma, a vulnerable light in his eyes. Right here, right now, Emma wanted to be able to tell him everything would be all right. But her fears wouldn’t allow that. Deep inside she worried something bad would happen. This time it would be something far worse than the attack on her, Grant’s disappearance, or the attempt on Clement’s life. Anxiety arched through her. She turned away and headed down the hall. “I think I’ll grab a quick shower.” He didn’t answer, but she kept walking, half-afraid that if she turned she’d see his assessing gaze on her and she wouldn’t be able to leave. She was almost to the bedroom when she heard him behind her. She spun around swiftly, practically bumping into him on the threshold of the room. “I’m sorry,” he said as he gripped her arms. But he didn’t look sorry. Instead he looked hungry. His gaze burned down on her, beseeching her for something. Understanding? Comfort? “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. “Talk about what?” he said softly, retaining his grip on her arms. “About what’s bothering you?” He let her go. “Everything is bothering me right now. I don’t have a handle on this situation and it scares me. I’ve never been this out of control.” “You’re not still blaming yourself for what happened to your uncle?” “Damn straight. If I had refused this damn assignment, none of you would be in danger.” Emma moved closer to him. “That’s ridiculous. You had to accept the assignment in order to catch whoever

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is trying to get Sadie’s treasure.” When he didn’t speak, she thought of what Josy had said about Shane’s experiences growing up with an abusive father. “Josy told me about what your father did. That he was abusive.” His eyes hardened. “She did what?” “I’m sure she wouldn’t have said anything, but she was tired and worried about Clement. She didn’t mean to betray a confidence. She’s concerned about you.” He pushed a hand through his tousled hair, and she realized in a nonsensical moment of reflection, that she hadn’t seen him in his cowboy hat all day. No matter. The man defined gorgeous no matter how he wrapped the package. Slowly he walked to the bed and sat down. “My father was a bastard. He didn’t...he didn’t hit Mom and I. Not until one night. I’d just turned nineteen and I’d decided to go to college instead of staying to work on the ranch. I’d already spent two extra years of my life here. I wanted some freedom.” “Adventure?” “Exactly. My mother was on my side and defended me. Father hauled off and hit her across the face.” “Oh, my God,” she gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. He nodded and closed his eyes. “I grabbed him and slammed him against the wall and told him if he ever touched her again, I’d kill him.” He opened his eyes and clenched his fists at his side. “As it turned out, he never got another chance to hurt her. We left the house the next day and stayed with Uncle Clement and Aunt Josy. My mother filed for divorce and moved to New York where her sister lives. She begged me to come with her. But I

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wanted to go to college, not move to New York. I stayed through the summer with my uncle and aunt, then left for college.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, laying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. “More than that, I wanted to leave the hypocrisy behind. My father said he wanted to turn me into a lawabiding citizen and that I was on my way to being a criminal. I knew he was in the business of stealing relics. So when the opportunity came along to join SART, it wasn’t the idea of adventure that pushed me to join. It was the possibility of getting revenge for what he’d done to my mother. To me. Maybe I’d even get to be the one to slap the cuffs on him.” The vehemence in his tone didn’t surprise her. She couldn’t blame him for the way he felt. She sat on the bed next to him, her heart growing soft with emotions that begged to be fulfilled. The Shane O’Donnell she’d met originally had been tougher, more certain, less in need of understanding. But he’d also been less human then. He’d experienced a lot in the past two days and so had she. And although they’d been forced into each other’s company by circumstances and danger, she knew of no other place she’d rather be. “There’s more, isn’t there?” she asked. Captured in his sudden, appreciative masculine gaze, Emma felt warmth flood her stomach. “Yeah, there’s more. If you were smart you’d run away now and keep on running. I told you there’s violence in me. It runs through my blood. I don’t want to hurt a woman the way my father hurt my mother. I refuse to allow that to happen.” “You told me I shouldn’t be afraid of you. You wouldn’t hurt me, Shane.” “You don’t know that,” he said firmly, his gaze fixing on her mouth. “Maybe it’s something I can’t control

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after all.” “I do know it. You’ve been trying to protect me during this whole situation.” Shane shifted on the bed so that he sat close to her and her breath caught in her throat as he touched her hair, threading his fingers through the strands that lay about her shoulders. “I’m not leaving you,” she whispered, feeling a deep flutter in her belly as he came closer. With a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan, he pulled her into his arms and took her down onto the bed with him. Before she could utter a sound, his lips came down on hers.

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Chapter 13 MAYBE EMMA expected a rough kiss. A devouring, overwhelming taste that would give her a reason to push Shane away. Instead he surprised her, and with that amazement came a longing that she didn’t want to deny. Softly, slowly his lips caressed hers, moving with infinite gentleness. It was her undoing. Every fiber within her cried out to accept him, to give him comfort...and love. Love. Oh my God, I love him. With this realization came a rush of desire that she’d never experienced before. An overpowering need to heal both him and herself with the force of the feelings between them. Automatically her arms went around his neck and she pulled him closer. All the worries of the past two days spilled away, clouded by the tenderness she felt flowing from him to her. He kissed her again and again, gentle forays that promised and yet refused to give immediate, carnal delivery. All the leashed power, the restraint she’d seen within him coiled beneath the surface. She knew without a doubt that she wanted Shane to loose control, taking her with him when he forfeited that last bit of discipline. He pressed his hips against her, and his hardness, his deep arousal pressed against her. She inhaled sharply with a breathless little moan and he took that moment to slide his tongue deep into her mouth. He tasted her with a carnal rhythm that made her tremble. Heat gathered between her legs along with an overwhelming need to nestle

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him between her thighs, to accept his hardness deep into her, so far inside. She groaned a protest when he broke the kiss. His gaze bordered on unrivaled passion and his breath came unsteady. “Run, now, while you have the chance.” “No,” she whispered, knowing that she had to have his lips on hers. Nothing would satisfy the longing within her more than he would. No one else would ever do. Slowly he traced a finger down the side of her neck. She welcomed the burn and tingle of it all the way down to her belly. He traced a path across her collarbone with his finger, then trailed down her cleavage, softly teasing the skin above the top button on her shirt. He leaned down until his breath brushed her ear. When he touched her ear with his tongue, she gasped. Then his kisses concentrated on her neck, licking the hollow where her pulse beat a frantic, excited tattoo. Shane had never felt this alive before. Nowhere in his existence had a woman tortured him, brought him to his knees the way Emma had done. No woman he’d known combined such delicate beauty with strength. He’d tried to hold back, tried to restrain himself when she came near. But it was no use. Every touch of her hand when she’d reassured him, and her understanding and tenderness broke every excuse he’d conjured in the last few days to stay away from her. He inhaled the hot, sweet scent of her, the clean, fresh bouquet of her hair as he ran his fingers through its strands. Just looking at her made him hard with longing, at the point of no return. And she wanted him.

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In the slumberous quality of her eyes, and the sighs of pleasure, he knew she wanted him. He couldn’t get his breath and he thought his heart might pound out of his chest as he pulled her closer, tangling her long legs with his. As she moved, uttering broken breaths, he allowed his gaze to take her in as he ran his hands over her rounded hips, her small waist, reaching to cup her firm bottom. Ah...to touch her skin...to remove every last stitch of clothing so he could see all of her...taste all of her. As he kissed her again, a tiny whimper of satisfaction parted her lips and was caught in his mouth. A million senses came to life in her body, individually sensual, together devastating. She picked up the shaky cadence of his breathing and she plunged her hands through his hair, holding his head in place. Simultaneously, she arched into him, her hips pressing against his. He groaned softly, and the tempo of his kiss increased, his mouth hungry and relentless. Indolently his tongue played upon her lips, then fluttered against them before sweeping into her mouth. Releasing the last of her inhibitions, she returned his kiss. His kisses seem to go on and on, and her only thoughts were of pleasing him and being pleased. She didn’t know when he’d unbuttoned her blouse or unhooked her bra, but she felt his hand cupping one breast in his palm. As the heat of his fingers teased her nipples, she writhed, the pleasure so stinging and so exquisite she couldn’t stay motionless. His leg parted hers and his tightly muscled thigh pressed against the part of her that throbbed with need. She ached to be closer to him, wanting his skin next to hers. Her hands worked frantically at the buttons of his shirt, and when her fingers trembled, he helped her,

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stopping his kiss long enough to pull off his shirt and toss it in the corner. Then he moved from her arms and stood by the bed, a sly, devilish grin curving his mouth. He held a hand out to her. She slid her fingers into his palm and allowed him to pull her up. “Oh, my,” she said breathlessly. He was magnificent. She traced her fingers over the dark hair over his muscled pectorals, moving her fingers slowly, following the thatch of hair down to his lean stomach and waist, feeling the heat of his body burn her with a desire to see more. He sucked in a breath and his muscles flexed under her fingers as she explored his shoulders and the tensile strength of his powerful arms. Boldly, she touched the waistband of his jeans, and then looked up at him. He smiled at her tenderly. “Take what you want,” he said, his voice husky. What she saw in his eyes propelled her onward. She slowly undid the buttons on his jeans, revealing red briefs that hugged his body sinfully. As she worked his jeans off his hips, he pushed her blouse and bra off her shoulders, and she let them fall to the floor. Shane thought he’d never seen a more beautiful woman in all his life. He cupped her breasts and watched her expression as he slowly leaned forward to brush his tongue across her nipples. She clutched at him, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her gasps and moans sounding pure to his ears. Slowly he touched her, the stroking of his tongue bringing little moans from her throat. Then he suckled, increasing her need with every pull of his lips. A blur of emotions engulfed him, combining with his increasing hunger to take her slow and deep, hard and

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fast. Every way she wanted to be loved, he wanted to love her. As his lips came back to hers, he unfastened her jeans and slowly slid his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties. Emma trembled as his tongue invaded her mouth at the same time his fingers found the heat between her thighs. The pleasure was instant and unexpectedly powerful, and she arched into his hand. As he caressed her with infinite care, she thought she might explode right then and there. She tore her lips from his and moaned her pleasure. “Shane.” “Mmmmmm.” “I need you.” Instead of answering, he increased the pace of his strokes, softly touching, inserting a finger deep within her and setting a languorous rhythm. Emma knew the meaning of heaven. All her feelings centered on the exquisite torture as he massaged and caressed her. He drew out her pleasure until she gasped for breath. As the pleasure built to a shattering peak, she cried out, feeling the tingling ecstasy rush through her loins. She trembled, the warmth sizzling through like fire. As she came down slowly he continued to caress her, enjoying her tiny gasps as he gave her more. Finally he relented, slipping her jeans and panties down her legs. He picked her up in his arms and lowered her to the bed. Quickly he stripped out of his jeans, revealing the heat and power she’d briefly touched moments ago. He came down next to her, covering her mouth with a devouring kiss.

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Shane wanted her so badly he thought he couldn’t wait another minute. But he’d never wanted anything to be so right. He wanted her writhing under him, her legs wrapped around him, crying out her pleasure the way she had moments before. But more than that he wanted her love. The thought stunned him so much that he almost stopped. He broke their kiss and looked down at her. Worry flashed momentarily over her flushed face. “Shane...” “Shhhh...” he whispered softly. He allowed his fingers to trace delicate patterns across her breasts, relishing the pale softness, worshiping her. Every moment was precious...indefinably important in a way he didn’t yet understand. Nothing mattered but giving her the ultimate pleasure once again, and satiating the overwhelming need to take her slow and soft, hard and fast. He kissed her again and when her hands found his erection he jerked in response, groaning as she caressed him without restraint, testing the length and width of him. Emma knew she was torturing him and she loved it, treasuring the feeling of feminine power. Right then he was as helpless as she had been moments ago. Caught up and about to be carried away. “I need you,” he rasped. “Yes,” she whispered. “What about—” Shane kissed her softly, then pulled away. “Don’t worry.” He moved away for a moment, reaching into a drawer in the bedside table. He ripped open a condom package

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and then seconds later returned to her. She parted her legs, arching against him, wanting him inside. The torment was too much, and she moved against him again, leaving no doubt about what she wanted. Easing gradually, he filled her, slowly, ever so gently. Trembling, she unlocked herself to him, feeling as if the completion opened the last of her heart. She gasped with a pleasure she’d never known as he delved deeper until every powerful, hard inch of him had been buried inside her. Carefully he retreated, pulling back, then entering slightly, teasing. The burn rose higher, and higher, and then he pushed forward, plunging until he seated deep and hard. He waited there, for what seemed an eternity, his breath coming in pants as looked down at her, willing her to read his want and his need. Her eyes were closed, and when her lips parted on a gasp of pleasure, something went off inside him and he could wait no longer. He started a slow, deep ride that made her moan and brought sounds of pleasure to his lips. Nothing had ever been this good. She knew if she lived to be a hundred she’d remember this moment with him, even if it were the only time she’d ever feel him within her. The sensation of his arousal driving deep, then retreating ignited a fresh surge of joy along her tingling limbs as she wrapped her arms around him. Each pump of his hips drove her higher. His pace increased and his arms came tight around her. She knew she’d lost control, abandoning all sense of time as her heart pounded and the burning pleasure in her loins grew and grew to an insupportable joy. The pace steadily increased until nothing but this transcending pleasure existed for Emma. As the heat

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centered and gathered in her, she reached for breath, feeling the world spin around her as he came into her, harder, faster, deeper. Soon there was nothing but the steady, relentless flow of his body into hers, his strokes forcing groans of delight from her lips. Seconds later her world flew apart...startling her with its intensity and force, launching her up...filling her with exquisite pleasure. She whimpered, shaking in his arms. Shane felt her clasp him tightly, pulling on him, her contractions teasing him toward the heights. He pounded into her, enjoying her sounds of pleasure, happiness pushing him on. Building powerfully, his climax burst on him and he shouted his ecstasy, feeling for those seconds as if his entire universe was down to one indescribable heaven. His body shook as he hammered again and again, punctuating each thrust with a shudder of ecstasy. He collapsed on her for a moment, and then rolled to the side, pulling her into his arms. A warm lassitude spread over her, filled her senses with a cloudy, giddy sensation. Replete, she traced her fingers over the whorls of hair on his chest. She touched his nipples and he trapped her wayward hand, holding it still. “If you do much more of that, I’ll have to make love to you again.” She smiled and propped herself on one elbow. “You’ll have to make love to me again? What a chore.” He reached up to cup the back of her neck. “Oh, sweetheart, it’ll be a chore I revel in, believe me.” Sinking into the warmth in Shane’s eyes, she kissed him and tasted the passion he’d unleashed moments before. Their kiss was a mixture of fire and urgent need that threatened to propel her back into desire. When he finally released her lips, her breath came shaky with pleasure.

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Eventually her senses came back together and reality intruded, reminding her of the revelation she’d encountered in his arms. I’m not just falling in love with him. I am one hundred percent, ultimately, forever in love with him. It should have felt liberating. She should have been happy. Instead, raw fear tangled her insides, pulling her deeper into apprehension rather than freeing her to love him. They barely knew each other, yet the passion, admiration and need she felt for Shane had culminated in this moment. When he’d whispered to her to take what she wanted from him, she had. Without restraint and with total lack of forethought. In those long minutes of touching, caressing, and kissing, she’d given herself in a physical outpouring she’d never shared before. Making love had never been that intense, nor passion so uncontrollable. He traced a finger over her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” A flush spread into her cheeks. “Shane...” “Everything about you is...golden. Your hair, your skin, your heart. Hell, it’s hard to describe. You blind me with your light.” The hush in his voice made her tremble. Never had she heard such romantic words voiced for her. Speechless, her gazed locked with his. He plunged his fingers into Emma’s hair, then let his touch drift over her shoulder to land softly on her bottom. He kneaded her softly and a shiver of renewed desire tickled inside her. “I could lie here all day and all night, and taste you. I’d never get tired of your flavor,” he said. A glow surrounded her, pulled her into a fantasy where he declared his love for her and promised he’d never leave her.

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“Shane...” “But you’ve got to leave Gambit Creek when this is all over. It’ll be for the best.” He shifted slightly, his expression changing, cooling slightly. The change was so rapid she almost thought she’d imagined it. “What?” “After this is over you’ll go back to high-tailing it around the country and you’ll be looking for a new job.” She nodded, doubts intruding on the quickly fading glow in her heart. “Of course I’ll look for another job.” “I’ve got to concentrate on the ranch. With this SART business going on I’ve let some things go to pot. And you’ll need to get your career back on track.” What was he implying? That she was too much of a distraction? Her heart, which had filled with love for him moments before, began to sink. Shane put his hands behind his head and she missed the feeling of his arms around her. It was cold in the real world and now she felt the chill. He hadn’t said he loved her, and that alone made her realize how he would break her heart. “What are we going to do, Shane?” “About what?” “About...this. Us. We barely know each other.” He grinned and the heat in his eyes made her simmer with excitement, despite her doubts. “I’d say we just learned a lot, wouldn’t you?” He didn’t realize she was serious. The twinkling in his eyes gave testimony. All her inhibitions flooded back with painful intensity, reminding her of the past. No roots, no ties. No love. Emotions burst through her like

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thunder, taking her by surprise, splitting her in half. The urge to turn away, to run came full upon her. Run. Hadn’t he said she would go? He’d told her to run before and she hadn’t listened. Hadn’t he warned her that even if he made love to her she couldn’t play a permanent part in his life? Emma gazed at Shane and thought about all she’d be leaving. His tender, sweet caresses. The heated, burning passion of his kisses. His concern and his protection. But none of it was enough if he didn’t love her. She didn’t want to love him...had disliked him on sight. It seemed only yesterday they’d first met at the dig. She recalled his pointed arrogance and pushiness, and her scathing assessment of him as a cowboy. Yet even from the beginning, their physical attraction had burned at the center, needing only a small step to explode. No one in his or her right mind fell in love so quickly. She’d do well to remember that. Real and fresh as a wound, the pain stripped her raw. One action could protect her and only one action. “Maybe I should go back to Denver now,” she said. “What?” “I’m in the way. With me gone, you can concentrate on catching the thieves.” “No. I didn’t mean you should go back yet. After this is all over, yes. For now, though, if you’re with me, I’ll know you’re safe.” Shane scrutinized her like a precious parchment inscribed with all the elixirs and potions to cure a thousand

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needs. Reaching up to pull her head down, he tasted her with kisses that left her breathless. When he pulled back, the cocky curve of his lips promised more heated lovemaking. But love? No. He couldn’t be in love. He might lust for her, might care for her...but he’d told her to go. Maybe not right now, but eventually. Shane frowned. “You look awfully serious.” “I am.” “And?” She struggled upright and moved out of his range of touch. Watching the confusion play over his features, she said, “Maybe, if I abandon the site, the violence will stop.” To say he looked surprised would be an understatement. As he sat up, his brow furrowed. Despite his scowl, she had to resist the temptation to reach out to him. “What are you talking about?” he asked, the husky flavor of his voice edged with remembered desire. “I thought you wanted to complete this excavation above everything else? Now you’ve completely changed your mind?” She closed her eyes, afraid to see his expression. “Obviously the violence, the ransacking of the site, and Grant’s disappearance are linked. He might be humiliated, or he might resent what happened, but I’d think he would have turned up by now. Something happened to him.”

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“Another reason why you need protection. Besides, what’s that got to do with what just happened between us?” “We...” Emma shook her head and opened her eyes, unable to define the mixture of feelings bombarding her. Part of her said to throw caution aside. Turn to him and declare her love with no reservations and see where fate led her. The other side said to leave him despite the burning hole it would carve in her heart. “Maybe we should just cool things down. I’ll go to the hotel, move in there while the police investigation is going on.” At first she wasn’t certain she saw the subtle change in his eyes. A touch of anger? Or fear? Sometimes the two could be the same, inseparable one from the other. He shifted on the bed so he could touch her shoulders and pull her back against him. “When I came in the room, and we talked, I didn’t intend to make love to you. Did you think I planned that?” “No.” Her voice sounded breathless even to her own ears. Like a diaphanous thread. She hated the vulnerability growing within her at the touch of his hand. He could snare her like a spider caught creatures within its web. She allowed his arm to surround her as he reached to brush aside her hair so he could nuzzle her neck. She shivered. He sighed and then breathed in deeply. “I’ve never, never been so turned on by a woman in my life. I’ve never felt...this way ever.” As he kissed her neck, shivers of sweet desire prickled in her breasts and traveled down to her loins. She almost couldn’t muster the doubt of seconds ago. “But your life is the ranch, SART, and...being alone.” He pulled back. “I have the ranch and I’m working for SART now. But I’m not going to work for SART

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again after this case is solved.” “How can you be sure of that? You thought you were through with them and they still managed to snare you. If they can do it once, they can do it again.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be that way.” Shane’s words seemed hollow to her because she heard the lack of conviction in his voice. “You’re right, Shane. More than anything, though, you want to be alone. Don’t you?” He stiffened, dropping his arms so the cool air in the room replaced his embrace. Turning to look into his eyes, she saw the truth. He didn’t know or understand the answer any more than she did. With as much conviction as she could assemble, Emma took a deep breath and proceeded, knowing what she would say would hurt like hell. “I’ve got to leave, Shane.” She stood, ready to retreat to the bathroom where she wouldn’t have to see the expression on his face. Before she could leave, he moved across the bed and stood beside her. He drew her into his arms so that she had no choice but to endure hard muscles and sexual curves urgent against her. “Don’t do this, Emma. Don’t shut me out now.” As he brushed her hair from her forehead, he kissed the soft skin. Gently she disengaged herself from his arms. If she shared her secret with him he might not want her anymore. He’d see what a risk he was taking on a woman with no ties to keep her in place. Freedom remained paramount in her life and obviously Shane felt the same. He’d already led a life of adventure and constant mobility. Why would he want someone in his life who was always on the move?

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If she didn’t love him, then she couldn’t be hurt, and he’d warned her before they made love. He could harm her. Well, he’d hurt her all right. But not the way he thought...not with physical violence. Essentially he was an innocent bystander. A man who had taken what he wanted from her and she’d let him. She’d allowed herself to get emotionally involved. Moments passed with the slowness of molasses as Shane looked down on her. When she didn’t speak, he cupped her face in his hands. “By backing away you’re saying what we shared didn’t mean anything to you.” She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to throw herself back in his arms. “It does mean something to me.” Trembling with an overflow of emotions that strangled her, she moved to pick up her clothes. She didn’t dare look at his face. “We had a good time.” He reached for his underwear and jeans and pulled them on. “Had a good time?” He watched her as she dressed. “Maybe I had you figured wrong. I thought you cared about me.” “I do,” she whispered as slipped into her underwear. “I care enough that I don’t want to make your life more complicated. I can’t—” “You can’t do what?” he asked harshly. “Emma, I told you about myself. I made love to you. Now you’re telling me you want to leave and pretend this never happened? Is that it?” Solemn, she waited, not saying anything as she donned her jeans and shirt. Shane sighed. “I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?” She shook her head. “No. It’s me.” He clasped her shoulders again and forced her to look at him. “Then tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can

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help.” The intensity of his gaze pulled her forward, begging her to tell him everything. But she couldn’t...wouldn’t tell him she loved him and risk the rejection. So she remained silent, staring at him, feeling the tears come again. She had never cried this much in the previous thirty years. This week held the record. He released her arms and she saw a dismal shadow cover his eyes, deepening and darkening them. His cheeks paled, as if taken by a sudden illness. “I see. Well thanks for letting me know what you really think of me. I guess I did have you figured wrong.” Confusion welled deep in Shane’s heart and another emotion he’d never experienced. Pure anguish. How could she toss him aside like a rotten side of beef? She’d been so loving...so sweet...so full of passion. Following on his pain came deep anger. The desire to lash out rose in him and threatened to send him out of the room. What the hell had happened here? Why had their lovemaking changed everything and how could something so wonderful scare her away from him? Thoughts of Carmelita’s rejection seared him. Carmelita had taken his love, had discarded his affections within moments of making love to him. Now Emma had done the same. Was he cursed to make the same mistake with women over and over? He wanted to pull her against him, bring her to her senses with unrestrained kisses that would force her to see how much he needed her. He could taste the words on his lips. Should he tell her? Confess all? If he did she would throw it back in his face, or pity him.

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Instead, he hardened his features, forcing back the desire to get down on his knees and act like a fool. Years of training that had made him a consummate agent kicked into action. He could play it cold and calm if that’s what she wanted. He jammed his anger and his pain down where they belonged with the memories of the past...hidden behind the ice that found a place, quite suddenly, all around his heart. “Fine,” he said. “Do what you want.” With a calm that chilled his bones, Emma turned and left the room. Several moments later he heard the front door open and close. When he heard her Explorer start and the sound of the vehicle leaving, he sat down on the bed and closed his eyes. Slowly he leaned his elbows on his knees, and when the pain rose up to choke him, he put his head in his hands and took a deep, shuddering breath. The tears didn’t come until much later, when the despair in his soul melted the ice and burned a hole through his heart.

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Chapter 14 SOMEONE WAS following her. Emma realized that the dark blue sedan had been behind her since sometime after she’d left Shane’s ranch. Not close, but near enough she knew they couldn’t be driving in the same direction out of coincidence. The steady thump, thump, thump of her blood pulsed in her ears and her breath shortened. Not only had her encounter with Shane rattled her down to the bone, now she had to contend with a sinister presence trailing her. She turned the corner and headed off the wide four line strip into Gambit Creek and went east a couple of blocks until she encountered Main Street. The sedan continued to tag along. Urging herself to calm down, she took deep breaths to stem the panic that threatened around the corner. She could go back to the hotel. She’d checked in earlier, but then, restless and hungry, she’d headed out to take a drive. She hadn’t driven around long, but evening pressed over the mountains, daring her to make a rush for the hotel before night turned the familiar into the unknown. In the San Juan Mountains the dark shrouded like a cloak. Fugitives could hide in the mountains, among the trees, and never be detected. Part of her wanted to do the same. Hide. Hide. Hide. Hadn’t she been doing that all her life? Doug’s sing-song voice ran amuck in her head, torturing her with memories of a past she’d buried deep until she came to Gambit Creek. ‘Mom and Dad have always liked me better than you. Better than you. Better than you.’

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Thinking about Doug took her mind off the car stalking her and she came to the red light at the corner that would lead her back onto the main strip. Glancing back in the rear view mirror, she noted the sedan stayed two cars back. Once she turned right onto the four-lane street, she sped up as much as she dared, moving in and out between cars. The blue sedan caught up but remained with at least two vehicles between. Maybe she imagined they followed her. With what had happened to her on Thursday and with Clement being run off the road, it was easy to assume many things. Clement’s car accident might be nothing more than a hit and run that had no connection to the attack on her or the ransacking of the site. When she’d left Shane’s house she’d been tempted to examine the site one more time before she washed her hands of the entire excavation. Common sense took hold, though, and she left the ranch area quickly. Shane. A million pictures of him filled her mind. His sardonic smile. The way his eyes heated when he meant to kiss her. The bold, relentless touch of his hands along her body, his lips tasting her breasts.... Heat rose in her face as her vivid fantasy stirred to life. No man had ever affected her like Shane. Tears spilled over her lashes, but she let them rain down. She glanced in the mirror again. The sedan was a car behind. She needed to go somewhere crowded. She headed straight for The Golden Brand. Saturday night was a busy time for the restaurant. She should be safe there. Emma wiped an errant tear from her cheek as she located a parking spot at the restaurant. She glanced around to see if the sedan had followed her but didn’t see it anywhere. She kept the engine running, ready for a

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quick get away should the sedan appear. When there was no sign of the vehicle, she calmed. Maybe the car hadn’t been following her in the first place. Shutting off the engine, she sat without moving, staring into the sky above the mountaintops. She opened the window a crack to let in fresh air. She decided that she’d head for the police department and see if any progress had been made on what had happened at Grant’s RV. When she drove from the parking lot she quickly scanned the area for the sedan. No sign of it. Relieved, she headed for the Police Department a couple of blocks away, an unimposing, white stucco, one story building. The young officer at the front desk told her Officer Reddins had the day off, so she asked for Officer Mick Johnson. About five minutes later he arrived at the front desk. She was surprised to see him dressed in civilian clothes, a dark T-shirt and jeans. “You caught me just as I was leaving,” he said with a smile. “What can I do for you?” “I wanted to know if there was any progress on Grant’s disappearance.” Johnson shook his head. “None.” He looked around the small entry area and gestured to a couple of chairs on one side of the room. “Why don’t we sit down?” She complied and he took the chair next to her. “Grant’s been missing since Thursday and I don’t think he’s off in a huff,” she said. “You told Officer Reddins he’s hot-tempered, right?” “Yes.” “And he didn’t give you any hint he was leaving the area?”

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“No. He would have taken his RV if he’d decided to leave for good.” She shifted on the hard plastic chair as it dug into her back. “As I said before, something must have happened to him.” “If you want, we can go ahead with the missing person’s paperwork.” She nodded and he led the way to the back offices. As she followed him, she noted the calm atmosphere. One man sat at his desk reading a magazine, and the hush over the office contrasted with the constant chatter and ringing of phones she’d seen in police dramas on television. “I’m sorry,” she said as she sat at the officer’s small desk. He slid behind the desk, easily squeezing his slim body behind an area barely large enough to fit a grown man. “Sorry about what?” “You’re off duty.” His grinned. “No problem. Truth is, a cop is always on duty.” He cast a glance over at another empty desk and she thought she saw a ripple of anger cross his face when he looked at the desk. She glanced over at the nameplate. Hank Reddins. “Crime seems to be low in Gambit Creek,” she said to stimulate friendly conversation and wipe the frown from the young man’s face. He nodded and leaned forward slightly. “For the most part. I’d say the odd poacher, a robbery, malicious mischief...that sort of thing. I’d hate to be in the Sheriff’s Office, though. They have hundreds and hundreds of miles to cover. Little Gambit Creek is a cinch. In fact, what’s been happening at your archaeology site is about the

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most interesting case we’ve had in a long time.” The eagerness in his voice reminded her of a young boy anxious to play a new video game. “You mean the attack on me and Clement O’Donnell’s accident?” He shrugged his shoulders. “All of it is interesting police work.” She answered Johnson’s questions as he clacked away at the computer. After she’d signed the report, she rose to leave. He retrieved his jacket and accompanied her to the front door. “By the way, how’s the excavation going?” He asked as they stepped through the glass front doors and headed down the steps. “It’s not. Going that is.” Immediately she regretted saying anything. If Shane and SART were to solve who had trashed her site and trespassed on Shane’s land, it would be better to keep things as quiet as possible. “I’m not doing any excavating right now.” He nodded, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “That’s understandable. You must be worried about Mr. Wilder.” “Yes.” It was then she noticed the sedan, across the street, in a half-deserted grocery store parking lot. A tremor of misgiving wormed deep into her stomach. There didn’t appear to be anyone in the car. “Officer Johnson, do you recognize that blue car in the grocery store lot?” He looked in the direction she pointed. After staring at the vehicle for several seconds, acknowledgment came into his eyes. “Yeah, that’s Officer Reddins’ car. Why?”

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HEAT WAVES rippled over the asphalt on the road in front of Shane’s truck as he barreled toward Gambit Creek. He rolled the window down as a trickle of sweat ran down his back. Anxiety and determination warred in his stomach and made him queasy. He wiped at his forehead with his palm. The heat blasting off his skin felt as infernal as the weather outside the truck. One thought dominated his mind. He should have never let Emma leave him. Right now, at this very minute, she might be in danger. He was positively out of his friggin’ mind. Impatiently, he reached for the cell phone in his glove compartment. He rarely used it except in cases he considered an emergency. Shane called the SART hot line number three times and listened to a busy signal each time. With each failed connection, his blood pressure surged and he had to take deep breaths as the muscles in his neck coiled with painful tautness. He rubbed his neck, willing the tension to dissipate. What he needed was a massage. A nice, warm, sweet massage from the soft hands of Emma Baker. He’d vowed to forget her the moment she’d walked out of his door, but as time passed he found he couldn’t. After he’d cried his eyes out like a child, he’d taken a cold shower, shocking himself back into reality. He couldn’t forget a woman like her that quickly...if ever. If she wouldn’t let him love her, he could still protect her. Oh, hell. His feelings slammed into him like a bullet. He’d felt like his guts had been torn out when she’d left. He was absolutely, one hundred percent, completely in love with her.

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I love her. As deeply and warmly as he’d ever loved anyone. No. More than that. Shane knew, as surely as he knew the sun rose each morning, that her absence left an ache in his heart a mile wide. Sharp and stinging, the reality expanded like a balloon, choking him with the intensity. He couldn’t remember when he’d felt anything as excruciating. Picturing her sad, almost haggard expression as she’d put on her clothes, he found it amazing she was the same woman who’d arched against him, her face flushed, her lips parted as she’d cried out her pleasure. Vividly he remembered the sweet contractions of her body as she’d gasped with joy. The more he raged, the more he denied it, the more indisputable the feeling became. Whatever her feelings toward him...whether she wanted his help or not, he had to keep her safe one way or another. If anything happened to her— “Hell,” he mumbled and clicked off the phone when he didn’t get an answer. A string of lurid expletives fell from his lips, and he instantly felt better. He had to find her and tell her he loved her. If he had to drop his pride entirely he’d beg her to stay with him. He dialed SART again. On the fourth try, special ops picked up the line. They patched him into the director after a long wait. “Freehelm,” the man said, his deep voice rumbling over the phone into Shane’s ear. “It’s about damn time,” Shane growled, feeling angry heat rise in his face. “SART always was as slow as a turtle wading through mud, but it took too damn long for them to patch you through. Good thing it wasn’t a

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damned emergency situation.” “Then you wouldn’t have called me then, would you?” Freehelm’s voice lowered. “What are doing calling me here, anyway? I’m on vacation.” Shane cursed, mad enough to bite the head off a shark. “Look, Freehelm, I never wanted this job in the first place, and now the stakes are getting too high.” “You want out?” Freehelm’s voice remained steady, sounding unconcerned. Heated discussions were a regular with Freehelm, so it didn’t surprise Shane that Freehelm remained unfazed. Freehelm had always let Shane do things other agents would be punished for. Shane always imagined Freehelm would snap one day. Essentially Shane didn’t care. He’d protect Emma with everything at his disposal whether Freehelm liked it or not. SART could go to the devil. “No, I don’t want out. Not right this minute, anyway. I want your help.” “You’ve got a hell of a way of asking for it.” “I’ve never asked any other way.” The short bark of laughter on the other end of the phone took Shane off guard. “You’re extraordinary, O’Donnell. You’re damn lucky I approved the request Macon suggested and hired you back on.” “I’m not lucky, I’m cursed.” Another chuckle, this one more subdued, grated on Shane’s nerves more than the screech of rusty hinges. “Maybe you are at that. What do you want?” “I want more help down here. I can’t do this alone. I need help protecting Emma Baker.”

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“What?” Shane cursed. “Help, damn it! I need more help.” “I thought you were keeping track of her.” “I was. She’s decided she doesn’t want my assistance.” A long silence stretched, and Shane wondered for a moment if Freehelm was still on the line. “Damn you, O’Donnell you didn’t tell her about SART?” Without hesitation Shane lied. “No.” Freehelm expelled a deep breath. “Good.” “Send Macon or someone else down here to help me. If I can’t convince her she needs to stay with me, I need a tail, someone who can watch her without her knowing it.” “Why can’t you do it? You’re more than capable.” Shane wondered if Freehelm’s IQ had suddenly dropped in the relatively short time he’d last talked with him. “Because if, if she catches sight of me she’ll bolt, and God knows what could happen to her if these bastards get a hold of her. If anything happens to her, I swear Freehelm, I’ll be in your face so fast, you won’t know what hit you.” Shane realized that he’d practically shouted into the phone, and he felt the pulse of his blood and adrenaline moving through him at high speed. Freehelm cleared his throat. “Have you got proof she and Wilder are in on this scheme?” “She’s innocent. My vote is still out on Wilder. My guess is that he’s dead or has skipped town with that little

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trinket he found at the excavation.” “A trinket would hardly be worth skipping town when there had to be more treasure.” “Yeah, well he might have been one of the people who ruined her trench.” Shane didn’t want to rehash everything he’d told Freehelm in his last conversation to him from the hospital. He wanted action to keep Emma alive and well. And since she wouldn’t take it from him personally.... “The police haven’t found anything?” “Not a damn thing.” “We don’t have another agent we can put on the situation right now. You were supposed to do the job if it came down to it.” Yeah. He’d done the job all right. Maybe if he’d kept his hands off her and had offered her nothing but protection she wouldn’t have run. Another wave of pain echoed from tight muscles across his shoulders and neck. Right now he’d have given his first born for an aspirin. “You there, O’Donnell?” “I’m here. Are you going to help her or not?” After another lengthy pause Freehelm finally said, “We can’t do it right now, O’Donnell. If you feel she’s in that much danger, then you need to watch out for her yourself. Without you she won’t have anyone.” EMMA COULDN’T tell Officer Johnson she suspected Officer Reddins had been following her. It sounded too ludicrous. Unless, of course, the police department somehow believed she was responsible for Grant’s

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disappearance? After Johnson left, Emma hastily jumped into her Explorer and locked the doors immediately. Had she made a terrible mistake leaving the sanctuary of Shane’s house and Shane’s arms? Memories of Shane’s lovemaking stirred her heart and threatened to send tears rushing to her eyes again. She shook her head. She couldn’t come unglued and lose her perspective. Sure, Shane’s offer of refuge had been wonderful, but she didn’t want his protection if it came out of a sense of duty to SART. She wanted him to want her because he loved her and that wouldn’t happen. No. She’d done the right thing. Depression pushed her down and she headed toward the hotel. When the sedan didn’t appear in her rear view mirror, she decided she’d over-reacted earlier. She picked up a quick sandwich at a drive-thru before continuing. All the while she planned, trying to decide what she must do once she left Gambit Creek. A dozen blueprints spun through her mind like pinwheels, gathering speed until they blurred. She could go back to the university and see if she could get a position in the Anthropology department. Maybe even go for her doctorate so that she could teach. She dismissed that idea quickly, knowing in her heart that she didn’t enjoy teaching and wouldn’t care for the academic environment. She could try to get on with another Denver archaeological consultant firm. One problem; there were very few and they all knew each other. They might shun her if Grant had told them about this last dig. If they believed him, she’d never get a job in archaeology from a private company in Colorado. She could go to Longmont and acquire a position doing something totally different. Maybe move in with her

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parents until she found her footing. Instantly she nixed that idea. She’d never move in with her parents. Never. Or she could move out of state. She’d considered the idea before, it seemed, lifetimes ago. At that time her parents had sent her to college to study something useful. Accounting. Business. She’d hated it and changed majors to Archaeology and they’d withdrawn their financial support. She could still hear her mother’s high voice warbling about how she’d never make it in the big, bad world. Resisting their tirades, she’d persisted by working two part-time jobs at the university so she could pursue her studies regardless of her parent’s ire. No. She’d spent too long letting others dictate her happiness. Her thoughts scattered, and Emma knew the best thing for her would be to check into the hotel and try for a good night’s sleep. The lot behind the hotel had almost filled and when she found a spot she took a deep breath of relief. She didn’t relish looking for another place to park down the block. Painfully aware of her vulnerability, she surveyed the area for suspicious-looking characters. Not a soul lurked anywhere that she could see, and that factor by itself unnerved her. Which was worse? Suspecting everyone she saw or realizing she was utterly alone? The sun had fallen below the mountains and the dying light gave everything around it an unearthly shadow. Not quite night. Not quite day. She shivered. Dim streetlights illuminated the parking lot just enough to create pockets of shadows. Places filled with the unknown. Ridiculous. No need to get a case of the heebie jeebies, Emma. Still, part of her felt like a little girl searching her room for the monster that hid in the closet...or maybe under the bed.

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Or under her car. Apprehension spiked up her back, and she shivered again. She had to go out there. No way she’d sleep in her car all night because her imagination had flipped into overdrive. She stepped out of the car, unlatched the back of the Explorer and retrieved her one piece of luggage. A skittering sound, furtive and faint, echoed somewhere behind her. She started, every prickling nerve telling her to look around now. Immediately she pivoted and scanned the parking area. Nothing. At least nothing she could see. Resolutely she turned back to the vehicle and slammed the hatch down. A clanging rattle made her practically jump from her shoes, and she whirled about, a gasp escaping her throat. A black mutt rummaged among tipped-over trash cans. When the dog saw her, it fled. Relieved the racket had been nothing more than a stray animal, she hurried to the hotel and her room. She opened the door and flipped on the light. She closed the door and secured the lock. “Emma.” Her heart jumped, lodged her throat, and threatened to halt her breath as tightly as a hangman’s noose.

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Chapter 15 EMMA TURNED swiftly, her heart pounding. Maybe she imagined that deep, distinctive voice. Instantly she saw how wrong she was. “Shane.” “In the flesh.” His voice came out huskier than usual, as if he hadn’t used it in a long time. Sitting in the shadows in a chair almost too small for his big frame, he gazed at her with a guarded, distrustful look. She dropped her bag on the floor. “What are you doing here? I’ve had about all the surprises I can stand for one evening, thank you.” “It’s good to see you, too.” Relinquishing his lazy posture, he stood. “Sorry. A stray dog in the parking lot about scared me straight out of my skin..” Pain mixed with her puzzlement and she put her hands on her hips. “I’m not going to even ask how you knew I was at the Stafford. How did you get in here?” He moved closer until he came within arms’ length. “I have my ways.” His words sounded weary, without cocky self-assurance. She took another good look at him, drinking in his handsome face with a hunger that dismayed her. Something had changed in him within the few hours they’d been apart. Dark circles marred his extraordinary eyes, and his features seemed strained by worry. A stab of guilt hit her, as if she’d hurt him. As swiftly as the feeling emerged, she pushed it down. Shane had

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proven he possessed a tough hide, and she couldn’t imagine anything she said or did damaging him. “Why are you here?” she asked. “You need protection.” Wary, she narrowed her eyes, fearful of the direction he might head. “I thought we cleared that up? I’m going back to Denver after this is over.” “I thought about what you said before you left the ranch today.” He walked to the window and shifted aside the lace curtains to look outside. “And I decided you’re right. In part, anyway.” She hadn’t expected him to say this. Not that he agreed and that he wanted to stay away from her. Then why did it hurt so much to hear him admit it? When she remained silent he continued. “But you’ll still need protection while this case is open.” “SART is sending another agent to act as my bodyguard?” “No. As my boss reminded me today, I’m your protection. I asked, but they can’t spare anyone else. I’m all you’ve got.” Shane turned away from the window and advanced on her. She shied away a couple of steps. When he saw her reaction he stopped. “You can’t,” she said suddenly, afraid of feelings gathering force inside her. “Whether you want it or not, you’d better get used to the idea.” When he moved a couple steps closer again, invading her personal space, his gaze caught her up...and she saw something she’d never expected to again in his eyes. Hunger. It stirred within her a primal need far deeper than the one that told her to preserve her cool facade.

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“I don’t need you,” she said, her voice catching. “You do,” he said softly. “I think they’ve already done away with Grant. I’m not sure why or how, but as far as I’m concerned he’s history.” A niggling pressure rose in her diaphragm. “I filled out a missing person’s report on him today. They might find him alive and well.” “Maybe. Maybe not.” Her apprehension steadied, then leveled off. “If I leave tonight...go to Denver...go somewhere...anywhere, maybe they won’t be able to find me.” “Right.” His lips curled sarcastically. “Think about it. I’m a rusty old agent and I found you.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and shoved aside the long tendrils that lay over her shoulders. “Denver is a lot bigger place than Gambit Creek.” He sighed. “Emma, these men are not amateurs. They know how and when to get to you. If they can get on my land undetected and wreck havoc on your site anytime they want, they sure as hell can get to you whenever it pleases them. They almost killed my uncle. We don’t know exactly when they’ll attack.” Deciding she had to stand up to him now or submerge in the force of his persistence, she started a game of stare down. “If they’re so damn good, what makes you think you can stop them?” He put his hands on her shoulders, and Emma stiffened. “Because I’ve worked against these type of bastards for years. I have some idea what I’m up against. You

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don’t.” “But you could be hurt,” she blurted without thinking. He stayed quiet for a long time, but finally he said, “It’s my job, Emma.” She turned away and crossed her arms. The action didn’t do her any good. He put his hands on her shoulders again, drawing her nearer. “Please don’t,” she said. “Please don’t what? Tell you the truth? Make you see the reality you’re trying to run from?” Running. Her father’s voice rang again in her ears. ‘You always run away from your responsibilities, Emma. You were the one responsible for Doug.’ She licked her lips, her mouth dry. “Don’t. Don’t touch me.” He removed his hands, but he didn’t back away. Instead he leaned down until his breath brushed her ear. “I don’t think you really want that.” She closed her eyes and shivered “Yes, I do.” “You’re not afraid of the men that might hurt you as much as you’re afraid of this.” Shane slid his arms around her so that he could draw her tightly against him. All along her back, his chest pressed against her, each hard contour generating a deeper awareness within her of him as a man. “I thought you said you agreed with me. We need to keep our distance physically, Shane. Keep this relationship on a professional level.”

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“If I thought you really wanted that, I’d let you go right now. I’d never touch you this way again.” She wanted to bolt, to tell him he’d gone batty and to leave her alone before she called the cops. But she knew she wouldn’t. Damn him for being right. She needed him for protection. And she wanted so badly to touch him. Kiss him.... “I think you’re terrified of the way you feel about me,” he said softly into her ear. Pure, simple desire rippled through her body. Perversely, she wanted to fight that yearning. “That’s rather arrogant, isn’t it?” “It would be, if we hadn’t held each other not long ago and had hot, passionate sex.” Hot, passionate sex. That was all the act had been to him. She gripped his hands and pulled them from her waist. “Stop it, Shane.” He released her as if in surrender. “All right. I’m sorry. But please hear me out. I’ve got a deal for you. If you don’t like it, you can tell me to take a hike, all right?” “I have a difficult time believing anything I say would make you take a hike, unless I was to call the cops.” He smiled. “Probably not even then.” Weariness did a relentless foray through her body. “All right. What’s the deal?” “Come back to the ranch—” “I can’t—” “Just to finish the dig. If the thieves haven’t run off with whatever it was they went through all of this trouble to get, then I want to find the treasure. And I can’t do it without your help.”

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Just to finish the dig. With him close, she’d be forever within his range and capable of falling into his arms. “I promise I won’t touch you. It’ll be strictly a business relationship. You can finish the dig, take as much time as you like.” When she didn’t respond he sighed and began to pace, taking the room with slow, steady strides. “Emma, whatever you think of me, there’s one thing you must know. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Hope rinsed through her, but her suspicions ran high. “What do you get out of this?” He stopped pacing. “Only the satisfaction of knowing you’re safe. That’s all I want right now. All I want. You get the treasure. A chance to find Sadie’s treasure.” She had to be loco. But in a world where honor was difficult to come by, Shane had proven to be a man of his word. If he said he’d keep their relationship strictly professional, she could trust him. “Okay. I’ll do it.” EMMA SHIFTED through the soil ruthlessly, looking for anything discounted by the looters who had plundered her site. Maybe there was no treasure. Maybe there was no reason for her to still be here. Finally she dropped her trowel next to the pit and sighed. All the digging and sifting had yielded nothing like the ring she’d seen at Grant’s RV. Had Grant run away with the treasure? Had he come back, plundered the site, and discovered something so valuable that he’d leave his RV and simply disappear off the face of the earth? She almost believed it. Dry heat pressed down on her and she longed for a cool breeze. Retrieving a bottle of water from her backpack, she looked toward Buzzard Ridge, knowing with a sense of contentment that Shane kept a careful watch.

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She felt completely safe. At least there had been good news. Clement would be released from the hospital in three more days. She had a feeling Shane had spent time arranging the extra hospital stay as a form of protection for his uncle. She didn’t blame him. If it had been one of her family.... She took a deep breath. What would she know about a caring family life? As she drank more water, she looked around the area, wondering if Sadie had stashed jewelry or valuables in another area. Her gaze rested on the crumbling fireplace. Last night Shane had started a fire in his fireplace and the room had been soft with light. Long after Shane had retired for the evening she’d gazed into the flames. Immediately, memories of his embrace radiated through her with painful force. Visions of the way he’d touched her body, with a reverence that made her feel like a queen, haunted her. She’d lain in the guest room last night, alone, wishing desperately that he would walk into the room. She’d managed to refrain from going to his room and waking him with kisses and pleas for his touch. She stared at the fireplace until she heard a bark and saw Charlie trotting toward her. As the big dog approached, Emma smiled and looked up, expecting to see Shane. She waited, but he didn’t appear. “Where’s your master, girl?” She crouched down and brought the dog’s warm body against her, drawing comfort from the powerful animal’s strength. “Well, you’re here to keep me safe, so I’d better get cracking.” She patted the dog and straightened. Maybe she would do a little investigating and discover if the fireplace held any secrets. Thick tangles of rose

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bush vines and scrub brush obscured the brickwork. Retrieving her shovel and trowel, she headed toward the fireplace. Emma started removing the heavy overgrowth. She cursed when a rose thorn managed to poke through her heavy canvas gloves. Ignoring the sting in her finger, she moved aside the debris and imagined what the cabin looked like in the early part of the century. Made of logs, the cabin lay against the sheer side of the south ridge. The fireplace had been built of rock. The chimney had deteriorated into a tumble of bricks. She’d never excavated a hearth like this and she stared at it for several moments, wishing that Grant had been here to give advice. Then she thought the better of that scenario. She didn’t want to see Grant ever again. At this point it didn’t seem like he would reappear, so she might get her wish. There was something in a depression above and behind the fireplace. A bricked-in hole, about three times the width of a man’s shoulders, marred the rock. “How strange,” she muttered. Curious, she climbed on a large stone that had fallen toward the bottom of the hearth. She brushed aside some tall grass that grew in front of the area. Sure enough, it was a natural hole in the rock, a few feet across, blocked by smaller rocks. Excited and moving swiftly, she pried at the stones with her shovel until she’d removed them one by one. Could she have found the place Sadie had hidden the treasure? Hesitating, she didn’t bend down at first to look in the hole. A scent, rancid and unfamiliar to her, flowed

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from the hole. She recoiled. A primal foreboding welled, daring her to look into the unknown. Brushing aside her initial indecision, she looked inside anyway. Shadows cloaked the opening, but she could see something wedged not far from the aperture. She wrinkled her nose again at the smell. She’d personally experienced the unpleasant aroma of air thousands of years old rolling from an Egyptian tomb. A different smell, granted, but no less repulsive. No way would she stick her hand in there without the ability to see what awaited her. Grabbing the flashlight from her backpack, she turned the light on and pointed the beam into the darkness. She let out a startled, terrified shriek. Scrambling back from the horror, she attempted to breathe without choking on the stench and absolute disgust. Finally her lungs obeyed. “Shane!” AS HOT WIND threatened to lift his hat from his head, Shane looked around the valley and knew he’d made the right decision to let Emma continue excavation. If Emma found the treasure, if it still existed, then they could safely store it away with SART. He stopped close to the edge of the ridge and noticed Emma walking toward the fireplace with her shovel and trowel. He tried to keep a clinical, detached eye on her, but her beauty made him ache. Another night had passed and he’d managed to keep his hands off her. Knowing she slept in the next room had driven him half-mad with wanting.

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But he’d made a promise. No touching, no kissing, no...loving. And he loved her more than anything on earth. He closed his eyes and cursed. How would he do this, day after day, night after night? He smiled. Could it have been only about a week ago that he’d met her? Told her to get off his land? It hardly seemed possible when so much had happened. Resolutely, he jammed his desires to the back of his mind. Keeping a watch over her and catching the bastards who’d put his uncle in the hospital had become his single purpose in life. He started toward the trail leading down to the valley, conscious of not wanting to be away from her for long. He’d insisted on leaving a gun with her at the site. By freeing him up to scour the immediate area, he felt he fairly comfortable being away from her for a short period. Shane had trundled half way down the trail when he heard her scream. EMMA STUMBLED back from the hole, her heart thundering in her chest. Her throat contracted again, and she swallowed hard and pressed her hand over her mouth. Nausea rose in her stomach, and she ran to her backpack to grab water. After she’d gulped down the refreshing liquid, she still struggled to stem the revulsion that plunged through her. She stared at the spot she’d just left. She had to get Shane, had to let him know what she’d found. Nothing in her worst nightmares had prepared Emma for this. She’d never seen a dead body in close proximity, and certainly

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not the body of someone she knew. Charlie whined and sat beside her. “Emma!” At the sound of Shane’s shout she swung around, and saw him sprinting toward her. His expression reflected an almost terrified concern. He was breathing hard, as if he’d run a long way at full blast. As he skidded to a stop next to her, he grabbed her by the arms. “I heard you scream. Are you all right?” When she opened her mouth, her voice came out hoarse and dry. “It’s Grant.” “What? Where?” He looked around, pulling her against him. Instant tension curled through his muscles, as if he poised to fend off any threat. Grateful for the strength of his body and his presence, she pointed toward the hearth and the opening in the rock. “I was clearing the area and when I peaked in the hole...I wouldn’t have recognized him, but for the shoes. Those are his hiking boots.” A shudder wracked her body. “He’s dead, Shane. Murdered.” Shane cupped her face with one hand and looked deeply into her eyes. “Sweetheart, don’t pass out on me.” “I never pass out,” she said weakly, realizing that she might be lying this time. He led her over to a log and gently urged her to sit down. “Put your head down and breath deeply. I’ll be right back.” As he strode toward the awful hole, she dropped her head between her knees and drew in cleansing breaths,

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attempting to will away the queasiness and the stench from her nostrils. After Shane investigated on his own, he went for the cell phone in the pickup truck. Luckily the reception in the canyon allowed his call to go through, and within minutes, he contacted authorities. Emma listened to his conversation with a calm, almost resigned feeling. Shane returned several moments later, and when he knelt beside her, the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach had subsided. But she didn’t want to look in the direction of the hearth. Not yet. Not while she could see those hiking boots and the blood that soaked them in her mind’s eye. Shane touched her shoulder. “Feel better?” “Yes,” she whispered, wondering if she’d ever really be the same again. It wasn’t every day you saw a colleague jammed into a hole. “I can’t believe this. Did whoever did this to him think he wouldn’t be found?” Shane rubbed her shoulder gently. “I think they didn’t care if he was found.” She shuddered. “Maybe they wanted me to find him at some point. They had to know I’d excavate that area...” He nodded sagely. “I had a feeling something like this had happened to him. It’s barbaric. Sickening.” “There’s blood on his shoes,” she said, realizing how stupid it sounded to state the obvious. He massaged her back gently and the comforting stroking eased more of her fear. “Blood all over. How long do you think he’s been there?” “Probably a couple of days. The high heat has accelerated the...um...process of decay.” “Since the night I discovered the ring in his RV.”

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“It’s very possible.” A sense of guilt, however misplaced, settled on her shoulders. “Maybe there was something I could have done to help Grant. To prevent his murder.” He stopped the methodical stroking. “What are you talking about?” “If I hadn’t fought with him...if we hadn’t fought with him.” Turning her toward him, he shook his head. “It isn’t your fault or my fault Wilder’s dead. My guess is he got himself into this mess headfirst with no reservations. There’s something I didn’t tell you earlier. I ran another check on Wilder and discovered his debts outweigh his gains. Wilder Archaeology is in the pits. Literally.” She nodded. “I knew the company was in trouble. Grant did the books and kept them locked away. He did practically everything related to the business end of the company.” Emma surveyed the area, apprehension threatening to send her into a panic. She took a deep breath. Anger glittered in his gaze as he looked at the area where Grant’s body had been hidden. “The stakes just raised another notch. The police are coming right now. We’ve got to meet them at the gate.” Quietly she followed him to the truck and they drove toward the road that led to the entrance of the ranch land. After a long silence, he spoke. “Are you sure you’re all right?” She nodded and looked down at her hands. She felt the vibration of the rough dirt road all through her body, as if it might be the first time she’d ridden a bumpy path. How ironic. Since she’d arrived in Gambit Greek all she’d experienced both in the excavation and in her relationship with Shane, had culminated in a rough time. Now

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murder had entered into the primordial soup. She let her gaze rest on the man next to her. She could almost see his mind formulating and planning. But planning what? Not long after they arrived at the front gate, Officer Johnson and Officer Reddins arrived. After Emma explained briefly what she’d discovered, they headed back to the site. Once there, the officers began their investigation. Emma and Shane elected to stay in the truck, the doors open to allow a breeze to swirl through. The shock of discovering Grant’s body cleared slightly, but her outrage that anyone would do such a thing gathered momentum. “Grant wasn’t the best boss in the world.” The thought of his death sent shudders of cold across her limbs. “But I never would have wished this on him. Never.” Shane remained silent, looking through the dirty windshield with a steady, hypnotized expression. “Shane?” Breaking from his trance, he turned to look at her. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Grant didn’t deserve to die that way.” “Do you have any idea who might be responsible for what’s happening here?” He shook his head. “No.” He took her hand and squeezed gently, his eyes softening. “I wish I did. There are no clues to go on.” Willing to acknowledge, for one moment, that his hand was a welcome support, she returned the pressure of his fingers. “You were right. I’m sorry.”

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“About what?” “If someone was willing to kill Grant for God knows what...they could be willing to kill me—” “Shhhh.” He reached for her suddenly and brought her into his arms. “God, don’t say that.” Startled by the anguish she saw there, the total and immediate vulnerability in his eyes, she snuggled closer. Gathering strength from his powerful arms, she said. “I’m trying to be realistic. I may be next.” He shook his head. “They’ll have to get through me first. And I’m not letting you out of my sight again until this is all over. I’m going to be with you every moment.” His gaze took in her face, and she felt the heat of his body replenishing the warmth that had drained from her since she’d seen Grant’s body. “Day and night I want you with me.” Day and night. For a moment she thought he might kiss her, might lean down and show her how much he cared. “Ahem.” Shane released her and they looked out the driver’s side door at Reddin’s, who stood by the truck, smiling. “We’re going to have to get the forensics guy in here. Wilder died from a gun shot wound to the head, but he’s got two other gunshot wounds. One to the left thigh and one to the right knee. Maybe the bastards were trying to get something out of him before the finally finished him off. Hard to say.” Renewed horror rocketed through Emma and she put her hand to her mouth. Reddins looked right at her. “We’ve got ourselves a vicious killer here.” Reddin’s gaze swung to Shane. “I’m going to need both of you to come down to the station for questioning.”

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Chapter 16 “DO YOU HAVE any reason to believe that Shane might be involved in this murder?” Reddins asked as Emma sat at the table in the small interrogation room in the police department. Emma wasn’t surprised Reddins asked her this question. She’d already fielded queries regarding her whereabouts in the last couple of days and figured it was routine. Shane had experienced the drill and waited for her outside. “Shane wouldn’t harm anyone. Unless...” “Unless what?” Reddins walked around the table until he stood directly across from her. He placed his palms on the table and pinned her with a serious scowl. Immediately she regretted opening her mouth. “Unless he had no other choice.” “Why would he have no other choice?” “What I mean is, if someone was trying to hurt his friends or family he’d do everything in his power to stop it.” “Are you saying that Shane might have killed Grant Wilder because he thought Grant tried to hurt Clement O’Donnell?” “No.” “Or that he might have killed him because of you?”

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Impatience surged to the surface. “That’s ridiculous. Of course not.” “You said he’d defend someone he loved.” “We’re not...it’s not like that with us.” Reddins frowned. “Then how is it with you? Why would you be staying at his ranch if he weren’t trying to protect you? And why would he protect you if you didn’t mean something to him?” His personal questions rankled her, her breath quickening, her palms damp from nerves. “I don’t know what our relationship has to do with Grant’s murder. When the autopsy is done and you determine the time of Grant’s death, you’ll see neither of us was anywhere near him.” Reddins didn’t seem impressed. “You’re very loyal to Shane.” She hesitated. What could she say? Her relationship with Shane defied definition. She’d slept with him and now he tried to protect her. But he wasn’t just her lover, neither was he a friend. She wouldn’t admit to Reddins that she loved Shane. She didn’t feel comfortable declaring it in the open. “I’d advise you to come clean with me on anything you know that might help us solve the case,” Reddins said when she didn’t answer him. Emma gripped the arms of the uncomfortable folding chair then loosened her hold. “Obviously, the people who ransacked the excavation and attacked me at Grant’s RV have something to do with Grant’s murder.” She sighed. “Maybe Grant was involved with antiquities theft. His business wasn’t doing well and maybe he thought he could sell some of what we found at the site to get money for the company.” “And did Shane think that Wilder was a threat to you or his family?” he asked.

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She shook her head. “No, not really. What I mean is that Shane’s the type of man who would take a bullet for someone he loves. He wouldn’t kill in cold blood.” She shifted in her chair. “I thought you trusted him.” Looking perturbed, Reddins hooked his thumbs in his belt. “I think there’s something he’s hiding from me.” “Why would he do that?” He shifted restlessly from one foot to another. “That’s what I was hoping you could tell me. There are a damn lot of pieces that don’t fit together. The Chief told me that Shane once worked with an elite branch of the government.” Now she was surprised. Maybe, if the Chief told Reddins about Shane’s other life in SART, maybe they were suspicious of Shane. Alarm bells that triggered in her head told her to keep mum about what she knew of Shane’s past and that he currently worked for SART. “Shane told me he used to work for the government. That’s all I know.” Skepticism marred his face. “Have you found any treasure yet?” “No.” He nodded, and some of the ire seemed to leave his body, draining the uptight lines around his mouth. Cannon balls of suspicion jumped through her body at his abrupt questioning style and his continual twisting of the subject. The door opened and Johnson stepped into the room. “Hank, the chief wants to see you asap. Are you almost done here?” Reddins took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m done.” He nodded at her. “You and Shane can go. We’ll be in touch

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if there are any more questions. I don’t think I need to remind you to stay in town.” Disturbed, she retreated from the room, barely looking at Johnson as she passed him at the door. When she reached the front office, Shane was sitting in a chair waiting for her. Shane stood and walked toward her. He clasped her arm gently, and when she told him they could leave, she detected a definite relaxation and a relief in his eyes. Once inside the truck, she turned to him. “Hank Reddins was acting very strangely. Some of the questions he asked implied that you and I were to blame for Grant’s death.” He started up the truck and pulled out of the parking lot. He didn’t say anything. Disturbed by the silence and the tight line of his jaw, she asked, “Is everything all right?” “Did Reddins ask you about my involvement with SART?” She bristled a little at his brisk tone. “I didn’t tell him anything about SART. He told me that the chief explained to him about your past involvement with the government. But I didn’t tell him that you’re working for them now.” He glanced at her quickly, surprise clearly written on his face. “Why?” “I didn’t feel comfortable. He asked me whether we’d found the treasure yet. As if we would have kept that from him.” He nodded. “I know what you mean. He was tough with the questions, but I’ve been questioned by far better interrogators and under far worse conditions.” He glanced her way again and she saw a curiosity there, lingering in the look he gave her. “Still, you could have told him more about me. Why didn’t you, Emma?”

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Because I love you. “I was afraid if I said the wrong thing he’d take it the wrong way. And I don’t want anything to happen to you.” “You mean you’re afraid I’d get thrown into jail.” “Yes.” “They’d need a lot more evidence than they’ve got right now.” They were almost at the ranch house when he asked, “Emma, you don’t think I had anything to do with Grant’s death, do you?” Involuntarily, she reached to squeeze his shoulder and let her fingers linger on his warm arm, enjoying having him so close, so alive. “God, no. Do you think I’d be with here now if I believed that?” He seemed relieved, but said nothing, and when they got back to the house Shane decided he’d make a call to the hospital. After Charlie greeted them with her usual enthusiasm, Emma told Shane she wanted to take a shower and wash away the heat and grime. While Emma lingered in the shower, Shane made the call and talked with his aunt and uncle. After telling them about Grant’s murder, Shane asked them if they could arrange to visit their friends in Arizona after Clement left the hospital. “Why?” Clement asked, his tone worried. “I don’t want you anywhere near this area,” Shane said. “You should worry more about keeping Emma safe than being concerned about my old hide.” Shane chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping her very close.”

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“Aha. So that’s how it is.” “Humph.” “I’d say you more than care about her, Shane.” “Yeah, well...” “Okay, okay. It’s none of my business. I’ll see what I can arrange with the Airlie’s. We’re probably due for a vacation as it is.” After he finished talking with his uncle, he phoned Freehelm. Freehelm didn’t sound any too happy about another call so soon after the last. “Damn it, O’Donnell, what’s up now?” “I need a background check on someone.” “You couldn’t call the main office?” Shane knew how to appeal to the older man’s sense of honor. “I’ve relied on your help when I was certain this damn organization was going to kill me one way or another. I could always turn to you even if we don’t agree on everything.” Silence echoed down the line until Freehelm let out a weighty sigh. “All right. Who?” “Hank Reddins.” FEELING BETTER after the shower, Emma dressed in some loose cotton pants and a baggy T-shirt, hoping the lightweight material would serve her better in the heat than jeans.

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She heard Shane talking on the phone again, and for a moment, a twinge of the old mistrust threatened. She did trust him, though she knew she didn’t understand many things about his life. Whatever demons he harbored ate at his soul. For her part, she flinched at shadows and worried that whoever had killed Grant would come for her. What about Shane? The very idea of him being harmed or killed generated pain so thick she couldn’t think of it for more than a few seconds or tears threatened. Once in the living room, she saw Shane seated on the couch scribbling away frantically on a notepad. He was still on the phone. When he saw her he smiled, and the heat of his admiring look sent excitement through her system. How different he looked when he gave her that wide grin. Nothing like the tough, disagreeable man she’d met that first day she’d met him at the excavation. “Thanks. I owe you,” Shane said. He clicked off the phone. “Did you reach Uncle Clement?” “Yes. He’s arranging to visit relatives in Arizona when he’s released.” She nodded and sat next to him on the couch. She saw the notes he’d scrawled and spied a name. “Hank Reddins?” “Yeah.” His steady gaze assessed her, making her feel vulnerable and worried at the same time. “Did you find something?” “No. But I’m still worried. I don’t trust the man. Not after what he asked us. He’s showing his true colors.” She recalled that she hadn’t told Shane that Reddins had been following her the day before. “There’s

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something else you ought to know about Reddins. I might be wrong, but I think he was following me yesterday.” She explained how Johnson had confirmed that the car she’d seen in the parking lot belonged to Reddins. Shane looked doubtful. “It’s pretty stupid of him to follow you that way.” “He made himself very obvious. Do you think he suspected me of something and followed me because of that?” “It’s possible.” Weariness seeped into her limbs. Tired of thinking about everything that had happened, and acknowledging that stress had wearied her, she stood up. “I’m going to bed.” “Wait.” Before she could walk away, he reached for her arm, bringing his body in close. His touch fired a sweet need in her, his warm skin making her long for more. “Why did you cover for me today?” “Cover for you?” “Don’t play dumb with me, Emma. You know what I mean.” She pulled her arm from his grip. “Don’t insult me. I can’t read your mind.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his perpetually mussed hair. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day for both of us. But I’ve got to know why you covered for me and didn’t tell Reddins I was still working for SART.” “I figured he’d find out from the Chief of Police if he didn’t already know.” His eyes flickered like a candle lit from within. She longed to go into his arms. Instead, she turned away, hoping to escape the room. Shane took the decision from her, making an exasperated sound in his throat and following her, catching up

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and putting his arms around her from behind. Just like he had in the hotel room. She stiffened but he didn’t release her. Slowly she relaxed, and he pulled her closer, so that she felt the press of his hard body all along her, tantalizing, taunting. His musk scent, the heat of his muscles...all of it served to drive her insane with need for him. For his touch. For his love. When she didn’t say anything he spoke gently into her ear. “You wouldn’t have covered for me if you didn’t care for me.” Panic zinged through her veins, and she scrambled for any excuse. “I...I was only doing the decent thing.” “The decent thing would’ve been to tell Reddins everything you knew.” She shook her head. “You said you wouldn’t touch me. That we wouldn’t do this.” He sighed and pressed closer. “What’s torturing you? Why can’t you let yourself feel? Why are you distancing yourself from me?” She sucked in a swift breath as he kissed her neck, nuzzling her skin. Tingles raced across her skin, zigzagging like electricity. “If I cross the line again with you...I’ll feel like I have to stay. And if anything goes wrong, I...I won’t be able to run this time.” “Is that what think you’ve been doing? Running?” he asked gently. “Yes.” “What have you been running from?” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Grant is dead and I’ve lost my job.” “Where will you go once this is all cleared up?”

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“Out of state.” She felt his arms tighten a fraction, as if he could keep her from leaving. She continued. “Maybe I need a change of pace. Archaeology is perfect for me. I can go anywhere I want, do what I need. There’s nothing to hold me here.” “What about your parents. No relatives? No one who loves you?” “My parents are in Longmont. But they don’t love—” She stopped, unable to say the words. For saying the words would make it more real. She felt the tears come, as they had so often in the last few days, and a deeper shame filled her. She hated this weakness. This uncontrollable avalanche of emotions that had assaulted her almost from the moment she’d arrived in Gambit Creek and set eyes on Shane O’Donnell. “They must love you. You’re their daughter,” he said. “No. They blame me. After all these years.” She wouldn’t be one of those whining, sniveling people who blamed all their ills on wrongs done to them in the past. “It’s not important.” “It must be. You tensed in my arms when you said it. If you think your parents don’t love you—” “I don’t think. I know.” “Tell me.” Emma contemplated for several moments, unsure how he would react if he knew the whole story. “Tell me,” he said again. “When you listened to me talk about my father it took away a lot of my pain.” He paused, and she felt his chest rise against her back as he drew in a breath, slowly, deliberately. “I owe you that much. Let me do the same for you.”

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So she explained, letting the words trickle from her lips like water in a slow stream. “My little brother, Doug, was about ten when it happened. I was thirteen and supposed to be watching out for him. We’d been fighting. We were always fighting.” “Fighting about what?” “Everything. You name it.” “It’s not uncommon for siblings to fight. Especially when they’re young.” “I know. We might have grown out of it.” The pain stabbed her like a physical knife, tearing into her flesh and bringing back memories she’d tried so hard to forget. “If he’d lived.” Shane kept her against him, but his arms loosened, giving her the opportunity pull away if she wanted. But his caring, his tenderness unraveled her, moving her toward emotions she’d tried to shove down all her life. If she bared her soul to him, at least his arms would be there to save her from falling. “Doug taunted me for weeks about Mother and Father loving him more than they did me. I knew it was true because of the way they favored him. It’s not that they didn’t love me at all. My father spent time with me in his library and I grew to love archaeology. That’s when I knew I wanted to be an archaeologist. Explore history first hand through more than the pages of a book. Despite this, Mom and Dad laughed off my desire to become an archaeologist. They wanted me to do something practical. Something that I could make money at.” “They thought you’d grow out of wanting to be an archaeologist.” “Yes.” “Yet here you are now. Working in the field.”

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She nodded. “My parents treated Doug like a prince. Indulging him until he was a brat. My father was particularly bad. He treated him like a little man to the point Doug’s ego was monumental. I had to work harder for anything I wanted. I didn’t want to believe it was true they loved him more, but the evidence piled up. Doug knew it and used it to his advantage. He used to blame me for things that he did and my parents would believe him. “One day we were at a pond on a picnic ground. Mom and Dad told me to watch out for Doug, because the pond was out of their view. We were wading, not really swimming. We had a fight and he started to swim out to the middle of the pond. I yelled out to him to come back, but he ignored me.” Memories battered her unwanted and deep with pain. She shuddered as the agony of that time surged like a volcano flow. She hadn’t spoken of it in so long she’d hoped the fear would have gone by now. How wrong she’d been. Shane waited and finally she continued. “I told him it was dangerous, and I wanted to run to Mom and Dad and tell them what he was doing. But I was afraid to leave him.” She let the tears flow and Shane turned her around in his arms, pulling her against him. Though she wiped away her tears, they kept coming. She couldn’t look at him, afraid of what she might see in his expression. “I yelled, screaming for him to come back to shore. Then he suddenly got a cramp and went under. I thought he was playing games with me.” She barely stifled a sob, and he cupped her face in both hands so she was forced to look at him. She saw compassion and warmth that penetrated her heart. “I finally realized he wasn’t playing a trick on me. I was terrified and started screaming for Mom and Dad. I

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went in after him. He was struggling and I reached for him.. But he strangled me with his grip, thrashing, crying out for me to save him. I tried to hold him up but I went under. I’d always been a much stronger swimmer. I should have been able to save him.” She pressed her face against his shoulder. Sobs wracked her, mixing with the fear of the last couple of days. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Cry all you want.” Shane gently rubbed her back, cupping her head and holding it against his shoulder, running his fingers through her hair, caressing her arms. As she cried, keeping nothing back under his kind ministrations, her fingers clutched at his shirt. Measure by measure, sweet comfort ran through her. When her tears subsided, she looked up at him. “He drowned, Shane. My parents heard our screams and they swam out to us. I was only half-conscious, still trying to hold Doug up but he was already gone.” “But they must have thanked God you were alive and that you tried to save your brother?” “No. They’ve never been the same toward me since. I was in the hospital for a day after that, and before Doug’s funeral, I already noticed how cool they were. At first I thought it was grief...but then I heard...I overheard a conversation between them. My mother told my father she’d never forgive me for not saving her little boy.” She closed her eyes, and felt Shane’s warm lips on her cheeks, then her mouth as he pressed a feather light kiss to her lips. When she opened her eyes, Shane’s understanding and anger shone through, as if he’d been the one who’d lost a child, or a brother. “You’ve been carrying this grief around all this time? Feeling that no one could love you?” She nodded. “It wasn’t your fault. Not Doug drowning, and not your parent’s reaction. They had no right to lay blame on

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you. You tried to save your brother and almost lost your own life.” He gathered her closer and kissed her forehead, pushing her hair away from her face with tender strokes. “Thank God you survived. I can’t imagine this world...without you in it.” Later she could never remember who moved first. Before she could draw another breath his lips captured hers. Instead of gentle and sweet, his mouth devoured, as if he could erase that horrible event from her mind with the force of his kiss. He succeeded. Without restraint Emma opened to him, wanting to forget her brother’s death and needing Shane with a hunger that far surpassed any other emotion. All that mattered was now. Enjoying the erotic stroke of his tongue, she arched her body, pressed her breasts to his chest until they almost hurt. Physical discomfort and the heated contact reminded her that she was alive. She’d never felt this unrestrained, and the lifting of the burden cleansed her, drawing a well of feelings to the surface that included a deep need to join with him. To give him a pleasure that would imprint her on his mind forever. He tore his lips from hers and trailed a series of kisses along her neck, brushing over the pulse points. Touching him was a frantic affair, something to be done in as little time as possible. The passion between them flamed, too out of control to wait. She unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it down to his waist, leaving his torso bare for examination. Her hands moved over his shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin and the masculine lines with a delight that

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edged her desire up and up. She gripped his arms, recognizing the power within the bunching muscles underneath her fingers, and she knew that these arms could be gentle or rough, and could shelter her from many storms. Without removing her shirt he brushed his fingers over her nipples, tantalizing, rubbing, lightly pinching. She twisted slightly, writhed under the tight, tingling sensation that beaded her nipples. She searched out his mouth, this time the aggressor as she reached for his hips, brought them close to her. Reaching down she molded him, delighting in the pleasure it gave him. The swift intake of his breath. The raggedness of his breath as she kissed him again and again, allowing her tongue to search his mouth. No turning back, no time for regrets. She’d revealed the deepest secret she had. Something that had burned into her soul like a scorching iron and forged all that she’d experienced. Nothing could ever be the same again. Perhaps making love to him now was all about releasing the last of her barriers against him, of taking all that he was into her and giving all that she was back to him. It had taken everything within Shane to keep from pulling her into his arms the moment she’d come into the room. When she’d explained what had been haunting her all these years, her pain had been his, her tears his own. He couldn’t bear to see her tormented by a memory, by an event from so long ago. With that realization, he saw his own urgency push forth. A need to heal wounds that had festered and remained too long in his mind. And there was no one he wanted more to share with, to grow and treasure time with. Madness entered his brain as she released him from his jeans, cupped his heat and hardness, and caressed him until he thought he’d explode. Shane took control, tasting her lips as he reached for her shirt and lifted it over her head. Swiftly he pushed

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the straps of her bra off her shoulders and her breasts spilled out of the cups. He heard his own murmur of appreciation as he pressed kisses to the smooth skin, teased her nipples with licks and tastes, and suckled her until she trembled and moved restlessly in his arms. He pushed her pants down, taking her underwear with it, sliding the material down her legs slowly. Dropping to his knees in front of her, he enjoyed her beauty and admired the sweet curves and gentle slopes. As he looked up he saw the daze of passion in her eyes and the anticipation grow within her as he leaned forward and sampled the softness between her legs. As the heat of his tongue and lips invaded Emma, she gasped, unprepared for the strength of the gratification. He needed to make her feel special, to feel the love she’d never had before. He drove her relentlessly until she responded with gasps, sighs, and little moans that told him she needed him as much as he needed her. Before he could bring her to a staggering climax, he drew back and stood. Slowly he led her to the bedroom. Once there he removed the rest of his clothes and found protection in the bedside drawer. He cupped her buttocks and lifted her up, and the look in his eyes told her what he wanted. As her legs wrapped around him he brought her down on him, and she whimpered, her head falling back as he penetrated deep. He held her there for sweet seconds and she felt the brand of him in every part of her. Using his formidable strength, he moved her on him. With each stoke she savored the incredible delight as he penetrated and pleasured the most feminine part of her. Transfixed, she looked into his eyes and saw the truth in their depths, in the tender light that greeted her. He did need her and he wanted her with a fierce desire.

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He walked to the bed and laid her down, and she moaned at his withdrawal. He joined her on the bed, sinking down on her and entwining their limbs. The time of waiting for love was over. Wanting her desperately, Shane entered her swiftly, taking her with a quickness that demonstrated his frantic and primal need. Thrusting deep and hard, he rode on the pleasure of her gasps of satisfaction. As he looked down at her, her saw her lips were parted, the pink flush spreading over her face as her excitement increased. He gauged her needs with each movement of his body. He caressed her everywhere, no longer seducing her with slow finesse. Everything within him seemed focused on loving her, taking her high, fast, and wildly. Pleasure bombarded her from all sides as he thrust, steadily increasing his lunges into her until she felt the tingle and pulse in her loins burn higher. As the force of her desire gathered to an exquisite peak, the first burst of pleasure detonated, and Emma cried out. Launching through her in joy she’d never experienced before that moment, her climax rippled, shaking her limbs. But still Shane continued, coming into her again and again until he shouted his fierce happiness as he became one with her in pleasure. Much, much later, Shane pulled away from her, and they drifted into a deep sleep. Sometime in the night Emma awoke and cherished the feeling of his hands on her skin. Stroking. Soft stroking. The touch of gentle fingers pushing through her hair, brushing it aside, warm lips tasting her neck. She

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shivered as the potent effect of Shane’s lips on her skin brought a glow of contentment around her like a blanket. As they lay spooned on the bed, Shane behind her, Emma sighed. She savored being in his arms, her legs tangled with his. She loved the way he cradled her against him, the tenderness as he stroked her. Floating in a dream-like state of half sleep, she enjoyed the ministrations of his hands. Time had passed quickly and soon an afternoon had turned into a night and now morning. Emma couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this gratified. Maybe she never had been this happy in all her life. Shane’s hand on her breast brought a warm tingle across the nipple and he reacted by massaging tenderly. She sucked in an excited breath, instantly rousing from the last visages of sleep. She smiled. The night had been full of love. Emma loved him. She ached to say the words, to tell him what was in her heart more than anything. Instead, she was afraid if she told him he’d fade away. He shifted, and as he moved away, she missed his warmth immediately. She turned over on her back and managed to open her eyes. In the minimal light she could see him staring at the ceiling. “Shane?” He turned his head to look at her. “Morning.” “Morning.” The word was so easy to say, and full of the secrets they’d shared with their bodies. She turned so she lay on her side, propped on one elbow. She kissed him, and instantly his arms came around her, and he pulled her on top of him. Under the sensual assault of his lips and tongue, her skin melted with arousal. When he released her lips, she smiled.

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A fresh glow of love grew in her heart and she knew with certainty she’d never find another man like him. “Thank you, Shane.” “For what?” “For listening. For being here for me. You’re a wonderful man.” He smiled gently, and the sparkle grew in his eyes as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Well, that’s an improvement.” “What?” “Over what you thought of me when you first met me.” She smiled back. “You’re right. I thought you were a—” “A Neanderthal?” “Not exactly.” “Uh-huh.” He winked. “When I first saw you I thought you were beautiful. And now I’ve made love to you, I think you’re even more beautiful.” Shane kissed Emma again, and soon all they could think about was the way they made each other feel.

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Chapter 17 SPLITTING PAIN drove into the head of the man lying on the floor of his room at the Stafford Hotel. He moved tentatively, uncertain if the bastard who’d attacked him had done serious damage. After moving his limbs slowly, he decided nothing was broken, and as he felt around his stomach and chest area, he detected no pain. As the discomfort in his head continued, he wondered for a moment if he’d managed to make it to heaven. But he couldn’t be in paradise. He had it on good assurances that heaven didn’t include pain. Unfortunately, he couldn’t remember who had told him this and the throbbing in his temples assured him he wouldn’t remember right away. Other discomforts distracted him from his primary mission, and what he’d been about to do before he’d been cold-cocked. He grunted. The damn hardwood floor felt as cold as a block of ice under his back. Dragging himself into sitting position, he leaned against the side of the bed and rubbed the back of his neck. He cursed vehemently. Obviously the bastard thought he could get away with bashing him on the head and running off half-cocked. What an imbecile. Now everything, all the plans would be destroyed because of the jerk’s incompetence and inability to deal with O’Donnell and Emma Baker. The idiot said he didn’t want to kill. But he knew that the imbecile had killed before. It was in his record. The one that had brought the bungler to him in the first place. Blackmail had worked before, and the tall man reveled in his ability to bring people into the fold. Dizzy, he pulled himself to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed. God, he ached. The lump forming on the

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back of his head felt like an ostrich egg, but he didn’t dare go to the hospital. He couldn’t afford to be recognized. He cursed the impulse that had brought him to this little town. Despite the information they’d beaten from Wilder, he wondered if this excursion would produce end results. Even if Emma knew where the rest of the treasure was, as Wilder had claimed, it was a messy business to have to kill Wilder, Emma, and O’Donnell. Of course, killing Wilder had been necessary. Couldn’t have him wandering around confessing all to O’Donnell or the authorities. Rubbing his head ruefully, the tall man sighed heavily. He’d had enough of this existence. He thought about Shane O’Donnell and laughed. Shane had left the whirlwind life of an agent with SART only to discover SART had a noose around his neck ready to pull tight. The tall man knew. They’d tried it with him. But he was a free lancer. Pure and simple. Sure, he didn’t have the pure ambitions of a Shane O’Donnell, but he knew a good deal when he saw one. The organization had trained him well. The tall man knew what the creep who had hit him would do next. The twerp would go after O’Donnell on his own. SHANE LISTENED to night sounds as he trudged back toward the house, flashlight in hand. An owl hooted somewhere in the pine trees, and he thought he heard the howl of a coyote in the distance. The night air felt crisp against his shirt sleeves. Even in the summer the mountain nights could be cold. He’d awakened with the urge to check the immediate area around the house. Everything appeared secure, and

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he sensed no danger. His instincts had never failed him before. As a SART agent he’d lived by intelligence, wits, and determination. Intuition reinforced these qualities and gave him the stamina he needed to survive a life of skullduggery. He didn’t want that anymore. He’d found something more precious than he’d ever imagined with Emma, and he determined that once Wilder’s killers had been apprehended, he would leave SART permanently. Damn Freehelm if he thought he could drag him back again for any reason. Back at the house Shane paused. He took in a deep breath of the cool, thin air. He leaned against the side of the house next to the front door and wished he’d brought out a lawn chair. Too content to worry about something so inconsequential, he ignored the idea. Instead he gazed at the stars in the inky sky, and part of him wished he’d left the ranch days ago and had taken Emma with him. Earlier that evening the phone had wakened him from a deep sleep. SART had pulled information on Hank Reddins. Nothing indicated the man was anything other than what he appeared. He’d been an officer with the Gambit Creek Police Department for a year and a half and before that, an officer in Detroit for fifteen years. He’d served in the army as a mail clerk for four years. He’d been born and raised in Victor, Colorado. Nothing extraordinary about the man at all. After that information Shane had resisted the idea of going back into the bedroom and lying next to Emma. So he found himself on the porch, absorbing the night, with his .38 caliber at the ready. After Emma had revealed her painful secret to him, he’d realized that more than ever, she was all that

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mattered to him. If anyone had told him a few short weeks ago that he’d be making love with a beautiful woman and falling in love in a week, he would have laughed at them. His armor had been strong then. Tough. Impenetrable. Somehow, with her combination of gentleness and strength Emma had destroyed all his barriers. Yes, he needed her, but she needed him, too. Not just as a protector, but as her lover. He had to tell her he loved her. Tell her now. If anything ever happened to him, she had to know. He stiffened when some branches rustled in the wind. A prickle of cold ran across his skin as he scanned the area. Immediately a spike of unease rolled up his spine and covered his body. It was all the warning he got. The gunshot whizzed by, barely missing his ear. Shane ducked, crouching down, realizing the porch had no cover. He returned fire. Shane thought he heard a gasp of pain, but couldn’t say for certain. Another gun blast came from the darkness. He had a millisecond to react, but he felt the slap of the bullet and knew he hadn’t moved quickly enough. The bullet caught him in the right shoulder, lifting him off his feet and slamming him against the side of the house. Agony rushed through his arm and his breath left him, his lungs paralyzed by the force of the pain. He had only one thought before the blackness claimed him. I’ve failed the only woman I’ll ever love. EMMA JERKED upright in bed, her heart pounding. Multiple noises had shattered her peaceful slumber Charlie

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barked frantically in the utility room. Quickly she felt Shane’s side of the bed. Cold, empty sheets met her fingers. “Shane?” No answer. Black and dense, the night seemed like a shield of obstruction paralyzing her will to move. Quickly she reached for the bedside lamp. A sense of urgency propelled her out of the bed. Hastily she dressed, pulling on her discarded clothes. Something was terribly wrong. She pulled on her running shoes and tied them with shaky fingers. A door closed somewhere in the house and she froze. A furious growling and barking issued from Charlie. A loud blast made her gasp with fear. Gun fire. A sudden yelp, the yelp of an animal in pain. Charlie? Oh, God. Charlie. She tried to draw a deep breath and oxygen dragged into her lungs painfully, as if they’d filled and couldn’t take any more. Suspicion and a nagging unease made her stomach lurch and her palms dampen. She searched around the room for something to use as a weapon. Quickly she rushed for the lamp, grabbing it up and yanking the cord out of the wall. No time to think, her heart banging in her chest, her breath ragged, she stood next to the door, poised and ready. Slowly the door opened and the shape of a man appeared. Thinner than Shane, less muscled. She swung and hit him full force in the chest, the sound of ceramic cracking and breaking ringing in her ears. The man staggered, cursing loudly. He slumped against the door jam but didn’t fall. Before she could move,

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his arm snaked out, yanking her toward him with tremendous force. She struggled, stamping on his foot, swinging back, aiming for his groin. He twisted, keeping her from injuring him. “Damn you, bitch!” He jerked her head back, his arm choking her. Spots danced in front of her eyes, and she couldn’t breath. This was it. She was going to die, right here, right now. Shane. Shane, I love you. Bad breath puffed passed her face and she almost gagged. “Now, Emma, if you cooperate, you’ll live a little longer.” The man loosened his hold on her throat. “But I swear, if you try to get away again, I’ll kill you in a heartbeat.” Despite the raspy tone of his voice, she recognized the voice instantly. She licked her dry lips. Reddins. Without waiting for her to answer, he drew her out of the room, releasing her throat. He poked the gun into the small of her back, marching her down the hall through the darkness, toward the living room. When he reached the room he flipped on the light. Charlie lay on the floor, blood seeping from her side. Emma tried to rasp out the dog’s name, but couldn’t. Reddins suddenly spun her around, pressing her against him chest to chest. Smeared with insincerity, his lopsided grin looked a little insane. Dressed all in black, his face streaked with camouflage paint, he appeared ready for a covert operation. At the same time he seemed ridiculous, as if he’d dressed for a part in a bad action movie. The left sleeve of his dark sweater was ripped, and blood seeped steadily

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from the tear. Had Charlie taken a bite out of him before being shot? Then Reddins pushed her away from him and she staggered back several steps. He held the handgun on her as he walked toward her. She retreated until she came up against a wall. He stopped and studied her. In the ensuing silence her fear grew, and a stunned acceptance of the inevitable dawned on her like a new day. He would kill her. If he wasn’t packing a weapon she might have a chance to fight him. Escaping instant death by firearm was another matter all together. Then again, if she had to die, she wanted to know why. “What are you doing here and what do you want?” she said, her voice starting weak then building strength. “Where is Shane?” Reddins eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed. “O’Donnell met his maker.” Stone cold despair lined her heart. “What did you do to him?” He waved the gun at her. “Never mind that. You’re going with me.” “No. You can do whatever you want to me...kill me if you want, but I’m not leaving here.” Reddins advanced until he was in her face and she pressed against the cool surface of the wood behind her, wishing she could simply dissolve. His rancid breath, laced with liquor, wafted into her face. She flinched. “You’re one cool bitch, Emma. Hardly a flicker on your face when I told you I’d killed your boyfriend. Maybe you aren’t all that upset. Could it be you have the treasure and want it all to yourself? Maybe you were planning to off him yourself.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Grant took a ring from the site and that’s all. We don’t even know if

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there really is a treasure. We thought the treasure was a legend. We found a necklace, but we didn’t really think there was anything else to find.” He smiled again, and the glitter in his eyes moved from malice to slightly amused. He leaned forward and reached to touch her face. He traced her cheek with his index finger. “I don’t believe your lying little mouth. Maybe you could delude O’Donnell and Wilder with your pretty words, but I’ve been in law enforcement too long to be fooled.” Incredulous, she gaped at him, indignation mixing with pure fear. “You think I’m involved in some sort of conspiracy?” “Yeah. A conspiracy for yourself.” “I don’t— He put his hand over her mouth. “I haven’t got time for this. Get moving.” Roughly he shoved her in front of him toward the door. Numbness threatened to overcome her feelings and stiffen her limbs. She opened the door, pushed through the screen door, and stopped. A body lay in the darkness, off to the side. From the shape of the form she knew it was Shane. She started forward. “Shane!” Before she could take two steps an arm locked around her throat, choking off her air supply once again. She gasped for breath as tears poured from her eyes. Cold metal jabbed into her ribs and she winced. “Don’t bother. He’s beyond your help now.” He released her, but kept the gun poked into her back as he urged her around the side of the building. “We’ll take the truck.”

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In the minimal light, Emma could barely see. Twice she tripped over something in the dark and he grabbed her arm to keep her from falling. It was a strange gesture for someone who had every intention of killing her. Once they arrived at Shane’s battered truck, she thought about making a run for it. In the darkness, she might have a chance. But if she died, at least it wouldn’t be passively. Shane wouldn’t want it that way. Oh, God. God help him. She’d never told him she loved him. She would have given anything to have a second chance. Numbness brought forth by grief threatened to turn into apathy. No. No. Shane would want her to live. She must live for him. Reddins pushed her toward the driver’s side of the vehicle. “Get in the truck.” “I don’t have the keys.” He reached in his pants pocket and jiggled several keys in her face. “Got them off your boyfriend. Now get in the truck. And remember, I’ve got this gun on you.” As she climbed into the truck, a million questions scampered through her mind. Most of her thoughts came half-formed, scattered among the realization that her heart would pound out of her chest any minute. Taking a shuddering breath, she realized she had to stay calm. She’d need her thoughts centered to escape successfully. One wrong move— Reddins heaved himself into the passenger side. “Where are you taking me?” she asked. “You tell me. Where did you put the treasure?” “What?”

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“Don’t play stupid. Where is it?” “I don’t have the treasure,” she said angrily. “I told you I don’t even know if there is treasure.” He cursed long and vehemently. “Start the truck and head down the driveway.” He shoved the weapon in her side. “Do it now, or die.” She started the engine and shifted the truck into first. The gears moaned as she let out the clutch and they pulled forward. As she started down the long drive, he glanced at her. “You’d better tell me now and save yourself pain. If you don’t give me the answer you won’t get a choice in how you die. I’ll pick for you.” “There is no treasure.” “Right. I don’t think Wilder would lie. He had nothing to lose when he told me that you’d discovered the treasure but had hidden it away.” “Nothing to lose?” Her stomach rolled and she thought she might suddenly throw up. “You were the one that attacked me at Grant’s camper.” “Bingo.” He reached out to touch her thigh and she shrank back from him. He laughed again. “You’re a pretty smart woman, I’ll give you that.” “You have the ring, don’t you?” “Of course. Why do you think I shoved you out of the way? You don’t honestly think I was going to let you pick it up and walk away with it?” She glanced at his profile and he looked back at her. In the dim light his eyes glittered like small, cold chips

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of ice. “Was he in on this with you all along?” Emma asked. “Trespassing on Shane’s land, destroying my site, Clement’s accident?” “Wilder knew there was treasure after he found the necklace and the ring at your dig. He just wasn’t sure where. We dug up the site rather furiously, I’ll admit, but when we found nothing...” When he faded off she waited. Eventually, when he said nothing, she asked, “Why did you kill Grant?” “Who said I killed him?” “Well if you didn’t, who did?” Reddins cursed and shook his head. “Why don’t you worry about showing me the treasure and then I’ll answer all your questions.” “Then let me go.” He snickered, the sound more like a snuffling pig than a sound of amusement. “So you can tell the authorities? I don’t think so. Just tell me where you put the treasure. I promise when I kill you, I’ll make it as painless as possible.” Pure rage heated her thoughts, throwing a solitary goal to the surface. All right you pig. If I’m going to die, you can be damn sure you’re going down with me. “All right. I’ll show you. It’s in the canyon not far from the site.” Reddins remained silent throughout the rest of the ride toward the site. She was thankful, because it gave her an opportunity to think, to plan what she could do. What was the chance that she could escape? Practically nil.

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But she had to escape. Anything else was unthinkable. Shane would want her to live, even if she felt a cold, hard lump where her heart used to be. In her mind his name echoed over and over, a litany of pain. Emma bit her lip to hold back the tears, but as hard as she tried to keep them away, a few slipped out. She didn’t give a damn if Reddins saw them. Not even trying to wipe them away, she let them dry on her cheeks. Her entire body ached and she shivered with cold. Was this what shock felt like? The miles went on and on in silence, the truck bumping over the rough road and jolting her into a state of hypnotized pain. When they arrived at the site, Reddins retrieved a flashlight from one of the pockets on his black pants and hustled her out of the car roughly. She glared at him, realizing that in the darkness he couldn’t see her expression. In the semi darkness she couldn’t see his wound that well, but the shirt looked soaked with blood. He saw her looking at him and grunted. He cursed. “That freaking boyfriend of yours managed to clip me with a shot. Not that it matters. I got the last word.” She gritted back the desire to say good riddance. “Looks like it’s bleeding pretty profusely.” He let loose a bark of laughter. “You ought to worry more about your pretty little butt and what I’m going to do with you.” That he might have more than murder in mind made her blood freeze and her heart pick up speed again. “Now where is the treasure?” he asked. “It’s actually not right here.” He grabbed her arm. “Don’t screw with me. Where’s is it?”

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She pointed north to Buzzard Ridge. “I left it up there for safe keeping.” “Now that’s more like it.” He poked her in the side with the gun. “Move it.” “I can’t see without the flashlight.” “I’ll point the damn thing so you can see to walk. Move it.” The dry earth crunched beneath her feet as she walked, and as she looked up toward the ridge and noted the brightness of the stars, she wished she were here with Shane, telling him she loved him and would always love him. As she walked up the path, the cool night bit through her shirt. Shane’s horse had picked its way up the narrow, steep trail with sure footing, but in the dark Emma slipped more than once. Behind her Reddins’ breathing came ragged and she wondered if the wound in his arm gave him enough trouble. Bleed to death, you bastard. The sounds of night reached her ears. Wind whispered a haunting call, and the rocks underneath her feet shifted. Her breath sounded labored and painful to her own ears. Reddins urged her forward by poking her with the flashlight. They were almost to the top of the trail when she decided to ask Reddins a question that had been bugging her. “Why did you kill Grant if he was your partner?” “He wasn’t my partner. He was hired like I was to do this job. Get the treasure, split the spoils and get the out of this piece of crap town.” “Who hired you?” “A scum bucket in the U.S. Government. You should be glad he’s out of the picture. If he’d come after you I

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guarantee he would have had some fun before he killed you. He’s been watching you. Of course, I’m not adverse to a little fun myself—” The shot blasted from the top of the ridge in front of them. Emma fully expected to feel a sharp, agonizing impact, but no pain arrived. Now was her chance. As Reddins cursed heavily, she aimed for his wounded arm and shoved him as hard as she could, uttering a defiant, angry grunt. He tripped and went down. She stumbled in the dark, heading back down the trail, hoping she could get far enough of ahead of him and whoever was shooting to hide. Another shot rang out and she flinched. She sent up a silent prayer that she wouldn’t fall on the precarious trail and plunge down a rocky slope. Footfalls echoed behind her, coming down the trail at top speed. Blood rushed in her ears, fear pushing her on and stretching her lungs to the limit as she used memory and sheer luck to negotiate precarious twists and turns. She was almost to the bottom when her luck ran out. She tripped on a rock and fell to her hands and knees. The jolt rocketed through her limbs, her palms stinging, her knees protesting with sharp nettles of pain. Without warning the rock gave way under her and she slid over the edge. Her scream pierced the canyon, and for that solitary moment, she believed death had come. A thousand thoughts bombarded her at once. She would never see Shane again. Never again. In the distance she thought she heard someone call her name. Grabbing for purchase, she attempted to slow her descent, desperate for anything that might save her from the rocks below.

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Pain tore at her body as she rolled. Abruptly she came to a slamming halt against a boulder. She couldn’t stifle a whimper as her ribs protested, and her breath left in a rush. If she’d done serious damage, she doubted she’d make it out alive. Without moving she tried shove away pain and fear. A terrible trembling fluttered through her body, and her breath rasped. She swallowed convulsively and almost choked on the dry air. Lay still. Don’t move. Every part of her hurt and she wondered if she should give herself up to the shooter and end the misery. Several moments later she heard shuffling sounds above her. Footsteps. Remaining completely immobile, Emma waited. Her heart picked up a disturbing tempo in her breast and she barely took a breath in case that small sound would betray her position. Finally the footsteps moved away and, in relief, she closed her eyes. She put a hand over her mouth to stifle the cry that entered her throat. How was she going to get out of here? After careful deliberation, she decided the best thing to do would be to stay put until daybreak. She’d need to find a place to hide in case the shooter stayed and intended to search for her in the light of morning. Shots rocketed around the canyon below and she thought she heard sirens in the distance. Once again she imagined she heard her name being called. But who would be calling for her? Shane? No. He is dead. Dead. Hot tears leaked down her cheeks and she stifled a sob.

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In her mind the words echoed over and over again, the mourning of a widow. I love you. I love you. I love you, Shane. Time passed in a haze of mental agony and when she heard her name again, she opened her eyes and slowly turned over so she could see back up the slope. Lights bounced like strobes at the top of the slope and a milligram of hope surged within her. But were the lights friendly? More voices. Then a deep masculine voice from right above her position said hoarsely, “Tell us where she is you bastard.” “I don’t know where she is.” Cursing followed, a long vehement strand. “After I shot at them she ran. Could be anywhere.” “I’m warning you for the last time, if you don’t tell me what you’ve done with her, I will make certain you rue the day you were born!” “I don’t know where she is.” The voice gritted each word out. “If you’ve hurt her I’ll personally see to it you fry in the electric chair.” Menace laced the words, but this time she knew the voice. Shane. Shane’s beloved voice. “Shane,” she said, a sob breaking forth in her voice, relief practically paralyzing her. Wincing in pain, she levered herself onto her hands and knees. She realized she’d rolled down a gradual slope and not a complete drop, as she’d once feared. But not far below her had to be a sheer fall to the canyon

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floor. One more false move and she would die. Thankfully nothing appeared to be broken, but every inch of her body throbbed, and her limbs trembled. “Shane, down here!” she cried. “Did you hear that?” another voice, this one also familiar came from the top of the slope. Officer Johnson? Seconds later someone edged down the slope. “Emma?” Shane’s voice again. “Yes!” “Don’t move! I’m coming for you now.” Flashlight beams bounced down the hillside, blinding her with light. In the bright light she saw Shane slowly making his way down the hill. Within a few short moments she saw him, reached for him. A large hand clasped hers. “God, Emma!” He pulled her toward him swiftly as he sank to his knees in front of her and drew her against his body. He explored her back, shoulders, and arms. “Are you hurt, sweetheart?” She shook her head, her breath coming fast as she tried to focus on the face so close to her own. “Shane,” she gasped. Stark relief weakened her limbs and she sagged against him. She cupped his face in her hands, enjoyed the feeling of his body against her, reveling in the fact he was alive and holding her close. “I saw you lying on the porch and thought Reddins had killed you.” She sucked in a painful breath and a sob broke from her throat. He kissed her, his arms crushing her to him. She tasted his lips quickly, pressing hard and desperate. He

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broke from their kiss. “He grazed my shoulder. The force of the shot threw me into the side of the house and knocked me cold.” She touched his bandaged shoulder. “Oh, God.” “It’s all right,” he murmured, pressing kisses to her face. She lessened her grip on him fearing that she might hurt him. A fresh spate of tears threatened her eyes. As his arms enveloped her tightly, he put his lips close to her ear and whispered, his voice husky. “I love you.” He stuttered, his words coming broken. “When...when I realized you’d been taken...that he might have killed you...I could have died, Emma.” “Shane,” she said, wonder and fierce belief adding conviction to her words. “I love you so much it hurts.” Emma cried in earnest then, tears of happiness, relief, and love. As she touched his face, she felt tears on his cheeks and her heart melted under his tender words. She sobbed quietly and he held her against him as if he’d never let her go, kissing her temples, her cheeks, her lips with tender care. “I would rather have died than been without you.” She pulled back to look at him. “I saw you lying there—” “Shhhh.” He kissed her softly. “I’m here now...you’re safe. Nothing can part us.” She glanced up and realized the flashlight beams no longer shone down on them. They were totally alone. “Who was up there with you? Reddins?” He shook his head. “Freehelm. My boss at SART.” “What?” “He was the one shooting at you and Reddins. Reddins apparently knocked him out back at the Stafford with

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the intention of getting the treasure, then killing us both. They intended to divide whatever they found at the excavation.” Shane sighed. “After all these years of catching antiquities thieves, Freehelm wanted to cash in.” Shane explained that Freehelm was disgruntled by his superior’s desire to boot him from SART. Freehelm had gone solo by turning to the very profession that had ruined Shane’s father’s life. It had been easy to hire Wilder, who was vulnerable because he needed money to keep his business going. “Grant was in on it all along?” she asked. “I’m afraid so. All three of them. They planned to kill us both sooner or later...once they got what they wanted.” She trembled, physical and emotional pain bombarding her as she realized she’d been betrayed by Grant. Her sanctuary resided in knowing Shane loved her. “Just hold me. Please hold me.” “Forever,” he said softly.

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Epilogue SHANE WAITED patiently as he watched Emma’s Explorer move along the driveway to the ranch house. He wondered if it was possible to be any happier. Three days had gone by since he’d plucked Emma off the side of the ridge and told her how much he loved her. With the knowledge that he loved her and she loved him, he knew the ghost of his father’s deeds had been erased. From now on, he wanted stable life with home, friends, and family. For three days he’d tested the water, wondering if she’d be receptive to his idea, his plan. More than anything he didn’t want to crowd her or make her feel obligated to him in any way. He knew that love didn’t always guarantee forever after. But he wanted eternity with her more than he’d wanted anything in his life. When Emma arrived at the ranch house, Charlie jumped up from her position outside the front door and rushed toward the Explorer. Emma got out of the vehicle and Charlie leapt on her, putting two dirty paws on her white shirtfront and practically knocking her down. It was so good to see the dog up and about. Fortunately, Charlie was a robust creature and the gunshot wound had barely grazed the hearty dog. Emma sagged against the Explorer as Charlie’s weight sent her backwards. She winced. Two bruised ribs and a sprained back muscle from her fall down the ridge would take awhile longer to heal. Emma laughed and stroked the exuberant creature. “All right already.” When Charlie finally dropped back to the ground, Shane made his way toward Emma. When he reached her,

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he stayed silent as he cupped her face and placed a tender kiss on her lips. “Hello to you, too,” she said softly. When he released her he asked, “So what took you so long? Did my aunt pull her famous shop-til-you-drop sequence on you?” “No, it’s actually a woman thing. It took me a long time to decide what I wanted.” “Uh-huh. Well, it took me awhile to find what I wanted. It’s taken me a whole lifetime.” She smiled. “What have you got up your sleeve, Shane O’Donnell?” He took her hand and led her into the house. “I think you ought to finish the excavation.” “What?” “Finish it.” She sank onto the couch. “I thought...after everything that happened...” “What would make you happy?” She smiled and he relished the way color came to her cheeks. “Being here with you. Loving you. Finishing the excavation. If there’s more treasure to be found other than the necklace and the ring, I want to find it. Somehow I think Sadie wants me to find it. She’ll be at peace when I reveal it to the world.” He enjoyed the warm glow that captured her eyes, the sweet smile that lingered and challenged him to kiss her thoroughly. He had a feeling if he did kiss her, they would soon be making love rather than talking about their future. “I’m glad,” he said. “But there’s a condition to getting back on the site.”

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She cocked an eyebrow. “Condition?” Grinning, he stopped at a table and picked up a red velvet box. He sat beside her and gathered her into his arms. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of the box. “Shane, what is it?” He handed her the container. “Open it and find out.” Her hand trembled as she held the small package, her heart beginning a steady thump of excitement. She smiled tenderly at him. It had to be. Slowly, holding her breath, she opened the box. Nestled inside was the biggest emerald cut diamond solitaire Emma had ever seen. “Shane! Does this mean— ” His lips covered hers and for a long time all she could think about was the carnal taste of his lips and tongue. When he let her up for air, she smiled. “Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice husky, his eyes shimmering with something that looked suspiciously like tears. “Stay here with Charlie and me...put up with my crazy life?” “Only if you can put up with my crazy life.” She smiled then peppered his face with kisses. “Even after I find Sadie’s treasure, I’ll continue with archaeology. It’s in my bones, Shane O’Donnell.” In that moment she looked like the defiant, wonderful woman he’d thrown off his property. Only now he saw genuine love shining from her eyes. “But you’ll always have a place to come home to. No more running, Emma.” “No more running,” she murmured. She threw her arms around his neck. “Yes. I’ll marry you.” “Then I’m the happiest man in the world.”

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Neither one of them would have to borrow dreams again.

~*~

Denise A. Agnew Denise's inspiration for her novels comes from innumerable sources, but the fact she has lived in Colorado, Hawaii, and the United Kingdom has given her a lifetime of ideas. Her experiences with archaeology have crept into her novels, as well as numerous travels through England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. Denise is the author of numerous electronic romance novels from contemporary, historical, paranormal and romantic suspense. Denise lives in Arizona with her real life hero, her husband. For more information on her novels, visit her web site at www.tlt.com/authors/deniseagnew.htm