LITMIR.BIZ

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I met just after Leo was assaulted.’’

      ‘‘I almost never dress up,’’ she confided. ‘‘And it really was a costume,’’ she pointed out. ‘‘I wasn’t lying. I don’t make my living on the streets.’’

      ‘‘How old are you?’’

      Her eyebrows arched. ‘‘Old enough.’’

      ‘‘Are you over twenty-one?’’ he persisted.

      ‘‘I’m twenty-three, almost twenty-four,’’ she replied.

      ‘‘And not married?’’

      ‘‘I’ve had responsibilities for the past few years,’’ she said distantly, staring out the windshield. ‘‘My father has become the largest of them. I’ve been afraid to leave him alone.’’

      ‘‘He’s obviously dangerous when he drinks.’’

      She hesitated, fingering her purse. ‘‘He seemed to lose himself in the bottle overnight. I thought I could handle him, control him, break the cycle. I couldn’t even get help for him. My father doesn’t think he has a drinking problem, so nobody would take him.’’ She looked over at him. ‘‘I’m very grateful to your brother for his help. As I mentioned the night he was arrested, my father has only been like this for the past few months. It’s not a long-standing problem. But I couldn’t solve it alone.’’

      ‘‘You’re going to work for us,’’ Rey said. ‘‘And it’s not that much of a problem for Simon. He’s good at his job.’’

      ‘‘Is it a big ranch?’’ she asked unexpectedly.

      ‘‘Enormous,’’ he replied, ‘‘and one of five ranches we own as a family. Things get hectic during roundup, as you’ll find out if you’re still there next Spring.’’

      ‘‘I won’t be,’’ she said with some certainty. ‘‘When I heal, I have to get back to my job.’’

      ‘‘What do you do?’’ he asked curiously. ‘‘Is it housecleaning or working as a cook in a restaurant?’’

      She almost bit her tongue at the demeaning comment. ‘‘You don’t think I’m qualified to do anything else?’’

      He averted his eyes to the road. “I don’t know you, Miss Johns,” he commented carelessly. “But you seem pretty domestic to me.”

      She didn’t feel well enough to retaliate. But one day, she promised herself, she was going to make him eat those condescending words.

      ‘‘I’ve made beds and done light cleaning,’’ she said, talking around her actual profession.

      ‘‘Aren’t you ambitious?’’ he persisted, with a faint frown. ‘‘Most women are, these days.’’

      ‘‘That sounded bitter,’’ she commented. ‘‘Did you get thrown over by an ambitious woman?’’

      ‘‘By a couple of them,’’ he said curtly, and his expression became hard.

      She hadn’t thought of him that way. They’d been adversaries from the first contact. But it occurred to her as she gave him a quick, covert scrutiny, that he was a sensuous man. He wasn’t handsome—except for Corrigan Hart, the rest of the brothers seemed cursed by a lack of conventional good looks.

      But Rey had a lithe, graceful stride, and a strong face. He had good hands, clean and long-fingered. She liked the blackness of his straight hair, the high cheekbones, the long, thin, chiseled mouth. He was the sort of man who could have attracted women, except for his personality. The Harts didn’t strike her as particularly gregarious or good mixers from her brief acquaintance with them. Leo was the one with the warmest personality. He made her feel at ease. The man beside her made her uncomfortable, insecure, nervous. She wasn’t usually so strung-out by a man’s proximity. Not that she’d had a lot to do with men in very recent years. Her father’s overprotective, possessive nature had seen to that. He’d been so certain that she was going to end up like her mother.

      She closed her eyes briefly, hating the memories.

      ‘‘If you want to go and see your father before we leave for Jacobsville, I’ll ask Simon to arrange it.’’

      She stiffened. ‘‘I don’t want to see him again until he’s sober,’’ she replied. ‘‘We both need time to get over what happened.’’

      ‘‘Is your face the only place he hit you?’’ he asked unexpectedly.

      ‘‘He got me in the back and the side, too, but those were only bruises. The doctor checked me over thoroughly.’’ She sighed wearily. ‘‘I’m so tired,’’ she murmured absently.

      ‘‘I’m not surprised. You can get some rest. I’ll phone you tomorrow, when we’ll know more about Leo’s condition and when he’ll be released.’’

      ‘‘Okay.’’

      He stopped in front of her house and parked the car, walking to the door with her. He looked down at her while she fumbled the key into the lock. She was, in some ways, the most vulnerable woman he’d ever met. But there was steel in her makeup. He sensed that she wasn’t like this usually, that she was fiery and independent and determined.

      ‘‘This isn’t the first time your father’s laid into you, is it?’’ he asked suddenly.

      She glanced at him, surprised. ‘‘No. But until this happened, it was more humiliating than painful.’’ She frowned. ‘‘How did you know?’’

      He seemed concerned. ‘‘When I was in school, I had a couple of friends whose fathers got violent during binges. There’s an…attitude, a posture, that people get when they’ve been beaten. I can’t explain it, but I recognize it when I see it.’’

      ‘‘Do you want to know what it is?’’ she asked with a world-weary smile. ‘‘It’s a feeling of futility, of knowing that no matter what you do, you can’t hold out physically against a man who’s enraged and bent on hurting you. Because you know if you fight back, it will be even worse, maybe fatally worse. I don’t like it,’’ she added, her pale eyes beginning to glow, ‘‘and he’s never getting the chance to do this again. He’s my father. I love him, and I feel sorry for him. But I’m nobody’s victim. Not even his.’’

      He pushed his hands into his slacks’ pockets and smiled at her. Her face was bright with color, and her eyes were alive, like peridots in sunlit water. He remembered her long blond hair around her shoulders and he wondered what she’d look like in pink silk. The thought shocked him and he scowled.

      ‘‘Did I glue my nose on upside down?’’ she asked, raising her eyebrows.

      He let out a short laugh. ‘‘No. I had a wild thought. Do you need an advance on your salary? I mean, is there anything you have to get for the trip that you can’t afford?’’

      ‘‘I don’t have a car,’’ she began, and hated remembering why.

      He glared. ‘‘I didn’t say you were going to have to get to Jacobsville on your own. You’ll go with Leo and me. Simon drove my car up from Jacobsville.’’

      ‘‘Do I get to ride in the car, or have you got me earmarked for the trunk?’’ she returned.

      He pursed his lips. Odd feelings were kindling inside him. ‘‘Keep that up and you’ll be riding on the back bumper.’’

      She wrinkled her nose. ‘‘Nice. Real nice. I can see you’re going to be a great boss.’’

      ‘‘If you don’t burn the biscuits, I will be,’’ he said.

      ‘‘I’ll stick close to your brother,’’ she promised. ‘‘He’ll protect me.’’

      He didn’t like that, but he wasn’t

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