LITMIR.BIZ

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princess touched his arm and turned her back to the others. He turned with her. She took a few steps and he followed. “I understand your reservations about hosting us, Mr. Westin, I really do,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper but it sure traveled through his body like a hot tornado. “I can’t explain right now why it’s so important for us to stay for just a day, but will you trust me that it is? Please? And, well, it means so much to my cousin.”

      Pierce took a deep breath as he gazed into her eyes. Not a movie star, not a paying guest, just a beautiful princess with a quiver in her voice as if denying her would crush her. He glanced back at the little boy who appeared damn close to crying.

      Cripes.

      “If it’s money—” she began.

      “No, no,” he said. “It’s not money.” It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her what she was afraid of and if that’s why she needed to stay on the ranch but he didn’t. For now it would suffice that it was important to her—hell, be honest, what else did he have to do for the next twenty-four hours that was any more important than giving aid and, dare he hope, comfort to a gorgeous woman? “We have an indoor arena,” he said at last. “I guess we could build a campfire in there.”

      “Oh, thank you,” Princess Analise said with an exhaled breath.

      “Could we bring a cow inside?” the child asked hopefully. He’d obviously been eavesdropping.

      “Why not?” Pierce said, lips twitching.

      “Can we also visit the very small house we flew over?”

      “The very small house?”

      “Over there,” he said, pointing east.

      “The ice-fishing shanty,” Jamie volunteered. He’d apparently moved closer when the child had the good sense to compliment Jamie’s favorite mare. “Adam painted it yellow last fall. You folks must have seen that.”

      “Adam?”

      “My other brother.”

      “That’s right, I forgot. There are three of you, right?”

      And how did she know that? “Yeah. Three.”

      “The fishing shanty did look interesting from the air,” she said, adding, “though it’s very remote. I would love to see what it’s like inside. At home, ours are sometimes quite charming.”

      “I doubt this one would qualify as charming,” Pierce said.

      “I’ll show it to you, ma’am,” Jamie offered, a slight blush creeping up his wrinkled neck. “And as far as a campfire, we built a big old covered pavilion a couple of years ago for Cody’s wedding. It’s got gas heaters and everything.”

      “That sounds perfect,” Princess Analise said.

      Seeing the ranch hand had started piling their luggage in the back of the truck, Pierce strode over and hefted a couple of suitcases. The sooner they got going, the sooner he’d find out what was really going on. Being back in Wyoming was not his idea of a great time. Being with a very attractive woman who just happened to be a little scared and a little nervous and needed his shoulder to cry on—well, that was right up his alley.

      “I am going to have an adventure!” the boy cried. “You, too, Cousin Analise.”

      “The kid is just like you were, Pierce,” Jamie called. “Always ready for action. Hell’s bells, I’d wager you’re still like that.”

      Pierce shook his head as he dumped the last of the luggage in the truck. By now the helicopter engines had once again engaged. The general tried herding the princess and the boy to the idling vehicle but they both hung back near Jamie as the chopper rose into the air and the horses danced around a little but not much. They were used to the ranch aircraft.

      How had a princess from a small country half a world away become familiar with a photograph of Pierce’s long missing mother? Was it possible Princess Analise knew where Melissa Browning Westin was now? Is that why Cody had agreed to this visit?

      If so, why had his older brother left almost on the eve of her arrival and without so much as a word hinting at who was coming and why?

      Pierce pushed his hat back on his head. “The truck only seats six, and what with the driver, I guess someone will have to ride back with Jamie or me.” Looking over at the bald man dressed in black, he raised his voice and added, “I guess you’re it, buddy.”

      But Toby had already run over to Jamie and put a hand on the mare’s glistening brown neck. “I want to ride this one. Is her name Star? May I, please?”

      Jamie chuckled. “I can take the little fella,” he said. “Come on, son, up you go.”

      “And I will ride with you,” Princess Analise announced, looking Pierce straight in the eye. He smiled at her. Fine by him but her announcement seemed to have galvanized the bodyguard who approached like a belligerent bull.

      The general sputtered. “But, Princess. It is hardly necessary or appropriate for you to ride with this man. Nor is it safe—”

      “Nevertheless, I will ride with him,” she said, and there was a change in the timbre of her voice that stopped the bodyguard dead in his tracks and shut down the general.

      The corner of Pierce’s upper lip lifted. Nice to see the princess square her shoulders and jut her chin. He climbed back in the saddle and, freeing a stirrup for her use, extended a hand and pulled her up behind him, smiling to himself as her hands landed on his waist.

      “You will be cautious,” the general said, gaze darting between Pierce and the princess.

      “Sure,” Pierce said.

      Before he could turn the horse, the general caught the bridle. “Once we have suitable accommodations, you will explain what precautions you’ve taken to protect the princess.”

      There it was—the dead fish in the punch bowl, the issue everyone had been skirting around since they landed. The pushy bodyguard, the flustered general, a princess looking over her shoulder…

      “You know, maybe it’s about time someone tells me exactly what she needs protection from,” Pierce said.

      The general raised gray eyebrows. “From whoever is intent on killing her, of course.”

       Chapter Three

      Analise tightened her grip on Pierce as he turned his head slightly and said, “Someone is trying to kill you?”

      She cringed at the theatrics of the general’s statement though there was more than a grain of truth behind it. “Yes,” she said.

      “No wonder the general looked jumpy when you announced you were leaving him and the bodyguard behind.”

      “The general is a very old and trusted friend of my father’s, but I’m a twenty-six-year-old adult and his hovering gets on my nerves.” She instantly regretted speaking out. The general was the general. He was not the reason she was nervous and not the reason she’d insisted on riding with Pierce.

      The past week had passed in a blur as she did her best to pretend she wasn’t worried about death threats or arriving at this ranch. Twenty-four hours from now, this would be over. Well, at least part of it would.

      She took a few deep breaths of blessedly unrecirculated air and concentrated on the moment. The sway of the horse, the faint smell of the pines. The low growl of the truck rumbling behind them. The solid feel of the man whose back she hugged.

      He did resemble the photo she’d seen of his mother, but in a masculine way. At least six feet tall, broad shoulders, gorgeous slate eyes and strong features, a sensuous mouth. Even through the padding of a winter coat, she could tell he was fit and muscular.

      As for the glint in his eyes and the deep voice? Those were masculine, too. Intimidating, perhaps, but in a way

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