LITMIR.BIZ

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coffee, she brought a wet cloth and clean towel to the table with her. A pair of scissors, antiseptic and other first-aid needs had already been laid out. He watched her eye his arm, her top teeth toying with her bottom lip. She winced a second before she swabbed him with alcohol, and so did Tucker.

      Far from the cool distance of someone used to causing pain, her expression was the picture of concern. A sharp inhale through clenched teeth, a soft, “Sorry,” as she used a second swab. Once she covered the cut with gauze, her shoulders relaxed, and she was again the confident woman in charge. What he couldn’t tell yet was if her empathetic response was completely false.

      “Thanks,” he said. “Now you.”

      “Oh. No. I can handle it.”

      “I doubt it,” he said, watching her reluctance turn into another blush. “I was there.”

      When she finally responded it was with a weary sigh. “Okay, but I know it’s nothing.” She slowly got to her feet, looking as if she’d rather be walking barefoot on hot coals. “It’s my back. I got caught on a wire.”

      He turned in his seat as she stood directly in front of him, his eyes level with her leather belt. Now that he was looking for it, he could see spots of blood on her shirt. She lifted it carefully, exposing a long stretch of what would have been perfectly pale skin. Instead, there were two sizable bruises that were coloring in darkly.

      “I don’t know,” he said, in no way faking his own concern, which made him uncomfortable. “Maybe you should get these checked out. It looks bad.” He touched the worst of it with careful fingers.

      Annie inhaled sharply. “If you’d stop poking at it.”

      “I’m trying to make sure there’s no internal hemorrhaging.”

      “I’m fine. I’ve had worse.”

      “This one’s over your kidney. It could be dangerous.”

      “I know there’s no real damage,” she said, lifting the shirt higher, but now with evident tension running through her. “I know because I was kicked by a horse years ago. So, the cut?”

      “Right,” he murmured, the word coming out low and slow as her bra strap came into view. It was the least fancy bra imaginable. White, no frills. A sensible bra that had no business looking like that against her pale flesh. Just as he had no business noticing.

      The bruises hurt him to see, and the cut was no picnic, but it was impossible not to notice the rest of her body. The sleek elegance of her lines, the curve of her waist, the indention of her delicate spine. This close, her scent came through. Yeah, she was no rose petal, not from a foot or so away, but from inches, she smelled like a ripe peach. Damn his senses for the traitors they were. He murmured another curse.

      “What? Is it that bad?”

      He cleared his throat and moved his gaze to where she’d been bleeding. Now that he had some focus, he saw it wasn’t a bad cut, on par with his own, but there was no way she could have taken care of it herself.

      Tucker got a swab at the same time he pulled himself together. “No. It’s fine. But it’s gonna sting like hell.”

      “Go for it.”

      He did, and this time, their roles were neatly reversed. He winced—especially with the feeling so present in his memory—although he didn’t apologize or make any noise at all. His job was to be efficient. Observant. He had a rare opportunity in front of him, and he was so busy thinking with his dick it was slipping away.

      “This was some introduction, huh?” Her laugh was high and nervous. “I’m really sorry—”

      “Do not apologize. I completely understand.” Good. Back to business. “I saw a quarter horse that looked ready to foal. How many mares are pregnant?”

      She seemed to relax even though he was taking the second swab to her cut. “We’ve had two births so far, both healthy. Besides Glory, one more is close enough to get her own birthing stall, and another one is showing. That’s it, because we’re keeping the mares separate, but they’re the last of a large herd that was kind of dumped on us. Most of them were taken to a horse sanctuary in Wyoming, but we’ve got the rest.

      “Thankfully, they’re pretty healthy now. Some—” She stopped when his fingers touched her skin as he worked to adjust the gauze before taping it. “Some of them were undernourished,” she continued. “And the vet was here a lot in the beginning. We’ve got a line on new homes for a couple of the stallions, which is amazing. It’s going to be hard to place them.”

      “I’ll take a look at them, if you like. I can’t promise anything, but I know some people who might be interested, and they’re not too far away.”

      “Yeah, distance is a problem for us. I’d appreciate any help you can give.”

      “Okay,” he said. “You’re all set. Are you sure there’s nowhere else you might need help? I can get Melody in here, if that’s more comfortable.”

      “Melanie.” Annie dropped her shirt. “And no, but thank you. If you’re up for it, we can take a real tour. You can bring your coffee with you, or we could finish it here if you’d rather.” She gave him a quick smile, then handed him his shirt.

      He stood, slipped it on and angled away to tuck it in. When he faced her again, she was drinking her coffee, her gaze focused on something other than him.

      Was she thinking of another life? Of future plans? She understood that the Rocking B Foundation gave sizable grants and gifts. It could turn this little operation into something to be reckoned with, and considering they had access to aircraft, the potential for animal services was huge. Or maybe she was just thinking about how the foundation money, along with the stolen investments, could build her a dream home right across the border in Canada.

      “We can walk and talk,” he said. “That is, if you’re not too sore. But I’d like to grab another cup of coffee.”

      “There’s no such thing as too sore working a ranch. I guess you already know that.”

      Not the way she did. He’d been part of a big machine. Yes, he’d had to learn all the grunt work jobs, then those that took skill. But very few times had he faced the cold of a winter morning alone, when every animal in sight was counting on him for food and shelter and care.

      There was nothing simple about sanctuaries. He’d investigated a hell of a lot of them. Each time, there was one individual or couple who were the lifeblood and soul of the operation. Those who gave up any sense of a normal life to the welfare of the animals.

      She’d been doing it almost on her own for two years. He didn’t have the faintest idea why. Penance made no sense. Not when she could go back to New York and really make things right. How was it he hadn’t anticipated her working like a dog? What had she done with the money she’d already stolen?

      “You know, I’ve got to make a couple of phone calls.” He checked his watch, then made sure he looked at her when he added, “Would it be okay if I met you in the stable in about twenty minutes?”

      There. A flash of panic that was gone in the blink of an eye. Just long enough for him to see her gaze fly to the loft and back. She didn’t want him here alone. Not for anything. But he simply waited her out.

      “Sure. No problem. I’ll see you there.”

      “Thanks. I won’t be long.”

      Annie picked up her coffee mug, then set it in the sink without taking another sip. She hesitated at the door as if she was working out what to say to him, but in the end, she stepped outside. He watched her walk down the path, his phone to his ear.

      The minute she was out of sight, he headed straight up the steps. His heart was beating too quickly, but there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t used to subterfuge. He’d always believed in facing his problems head-on. But this case was the exception to all his rules.

      He

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