Chapter Five

The horses picked their way carefully down the slope that would lead eventually to the riverbank. The sun beat down, pummeling them, but AJ seemed oblivious to the onslaught of heat. She rode easily, paying Chance scant attention, but looking around with clear interest at her surroundings. He narrowed his eyes slightly.

The personal tour of Mike Towers’s property allowed him a thorough appraisal of the woman riding ahead of him, and he found himself more puzzled—and intrigued—than ever. He had expected that she, like so many other women finagling visits to the Towers estate, had eyes for a potential monetary windfall. Part of the lore about his boss was that he opened his heart—and his purse—without restraint when tempted to do so. Perhaps Chance was short-sighted to have believed so readily that she was just another brazen gold digger. Well, okay. If he’d been far-sighted, he wouldn’t have a failed marriage to his credit.

In fairness, he fully intended, just a few short years ago, to dedicate himself to the world of Thoroughbred racehorses. Learn from his uncle, forget his ex, salvage his life and think only about track surfaces, nutritional supplements, and short, talented men who could ride fast. Becoming Towers’s bodyguard wasn’t part of his original plan.

The irony of his thoughts made him laugh, short and harshly, and he saw AJ look over her shoulder as if he’d lost his mind. Sun glinted in her oddly colored hair and he could see the vibrant emerald eyes stare at him. At least, he imagined he could, although the brim of her visor did a fair job of shading her face. Grinning a little, he nudged his horse into a quicker trot,

catching up. Yes, her eyes were like some molten, precious gemstone, all sparkle and pleasure, in spite of the relentless afternoon heat.

“My riding skills amuse you?” she suggested, not with irritation.

“No.” He tightened the reins slightly, shortening his mount’s stride to stay abreast of AJ. “No, to be honest … I was thinking of jockeys.” Better to admit that than that he found her extraordinarily attractive and would like nothing better than to lean over and—

A sudden dry-leaf rustle from nearby startled them. AJ’s horse danced nervously, but Chance’s big blue roan reared and shied violently, sending Chance sprawling onto the path.

“Sh—” Chance bit off an oath. AJ looked down from her horse, drawing in a sharp breath at the sight of the rattler, its thick body coiled, just feet away.

“Ideas?” she hissed at Chance, fighting the urge simply to kick her horse into full throttle and flee. The chestnut danced, his hooves beating a tattoo on the ground, irritating the snake even more.

“Can you shoot?” Chance hissed back.

She blinked. “Yes,” she said.

Chance nodded almost imperceptibly. “The pistol. Saddlebag. All Towers’s hands carry them … in case of snakes.”

Keeping one eye on the snake, and trying to find the saddlebag with the other, AJ finally extracted a .22 from the leather pouch, keeping one hand on the reins, and aimed at the reptile. The snake showed no sign that he’d simply slither away. In fact, he seemed to be coiling himself even more tightly, ready to strike.

“Shoot!” Chance demanded hoarsely, and he saw her hand straighten and still, and her finger move slightly on the trigger.

The snake sprang forward in a blur, AJ’s horse shied away, and AJ’s shrill little “iiig!” of alarm raised the hair on his arms. Not “eek,” not a real scream at all, just a shrill, plaintive “iiig!” He’d heard that before, only once, but couldn’t dwell on the source. The rattlesnake slithered off, unharmed. The chestnut bolted and AJ fell. Right on top of his sprawled body. Reflexively, his arms closed around her, steadying her. Clasping her. Instinctively, too, his body reacted to her, hardening with need.

Emerald eyes stared into his own, surprised. Unwary. And very inviting. Lips, slightly puckered, exhaled, the warm, soft kiss of air as erotic as its physical counterpart might have been. And then, just as he decided he’d reach up and kiss those parted lips, her head fell forward. Clunked, really, onto his shoulder, and she shuddered all over.

“I hate snakes,” she murmured against his neck.

“Yeah,” he agreed. Just don’t shudder anymore, okay? His hands moved slightly over her back, comforting her. Keeping her from putting any sunlight between her body and his.

He knew when she sensed his arousal. She shuddered again, then stiffened and moved slightly away. He half expected anger or indignation. Instead, she sighed, then carefully pushed herself to her knees beside him.

“So … ” she said, eventually. “Is this your usual tour when someone asks ‘to see everything’?”

He laughed. “No, AJ. I can assure you … snakes at close range and um … the pebbles and native grasses are only for special gue—visitors.” The word seemed less offensive to him than “guests.” Right now he didn’t want to think about Mike’s interest in AJ.

Reluctantly, he, too, pushed himself up, and began brushing debris from his clothes. AJ watched him briefly before following suit, glancing around as she ran her hands over her arms and swiped at her hips and legs.

“If you’re looking for the horses, I wouldn’t,” he told her wryly. “They’re probably almost back to that air-conditioned stable of theirs.”

“Great!” she muttered. “Now what? I don’t have anything to shoot snakes with!”

He stared at her, open-mouthed, before hooting a derisive, “Thank God for that!”

He turned up the path the horses had taken, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“What’s up?”

“Aren’t we near the river now?” she asked, and he glanced off toward the curtain of scrub trees and grasses that lined the path down.

“Well, yes, but we’re on foot. Our transportation high-tailed it home.”

She made a face. “Can’t walk a few more—what? Miles? Parts of a mile?”

“Yards. But you’ve seen rivers before—even this river.”

“We were on our way when you fell off your horse,” she pointed out. “Why don’t we just walk the—yards, you said? And see the river from Mike’s side. I’ve mostly seen it from the other.”

He tilted his head back a little, thinking. He’d never met a gold digger so interested in things like horses and nondescript river banks. Still, his boss had said to show her everything. She might have to crawl back by the time they finished her tour. He waved a hand at the tangle of vegetation.

“Plow right on in,” he invited. “River’s maybe a thousand yards straight ahead.”

She glanced back and forth from the vegetation to him, then gave him a slight smile.

“Perfect,” she said sweetly. Then she did an about face and plowed right on in.

• • •

Curtains of weeds, stunted bushes, and carrizo reeds weren’t nearly as impenetrable as they looked. AJ wanted to shout out her relief. Rebel could be ridden through here. With any luck, she could just trot him through. She would run him if she had to, but—why worry about worst-case scenarios? He might suffer a few scratches, but unless he tripped and fell, he should be fine. She glanced down to see a tiny trickle of blood on her arm. Not anything to worry about. Rebel had thicker skin than her.

“You’re enjoying this?” Chance’s question conveyed his dislike of the circumstances and she kicked herself mentally for letting her glee show too clearly. She’d just have to convince him she was full of quirks. Shouldn’t be too hard.

“Yes.” She smiled. “Sun on my shoulders, fresh air”—she sniffed before continuing—“touched with the smell of trash burning somewhere, and all this glorious space. I’m loving it.”

He didn’t look convinced, but she forged on ahead, stifling a small gasp of triumph when they burst out onto a clear bank, sloping easily down to the water’s edge.

Rebel can do this. We can do this. She walked all the way down, noticing the relatively clear path and the lack of rocks and roots that could trip a horse.

The Rio Grande stretched out in a placid band here, wide but calm. She could see the rocks under the surface a few feet out from the bank. Those would be the danger. She’d done research and been surprised how deep the river could run. But here, now, with drought conditions and no rain—excitement bubbled through her. Rebel loved water. Her mother used water conditioning with all her runners, and Rebel had hydrotherapy when he strained his left foreleg.

“If you’re thinking about throwing off your boots and bounding in, I wouldn’t,” Chance said behind her. “Low as the river is here, and slow as it’s running right now, there might be an issue with contaminants.”

“Wasn’t planning on going in alone,” AJ retorted, then realized her mistake.

“No?” Chance stepped up beside her. “Mike Towers isn’t here, AJ. So if you don’t plan on swimming alone—”

She didn’t realize quite how close he was until she turned to him, her breasts brushing against him and his arms closing around her for the second time in less than an hour.

“Who are you going in with?” he finished, his breath caressing her from the slight space between them.

She looked away, refusing to answer.

“Mike’s not here,” he said again, then lifted a hand and laid it against her cheek. His calloused fingers moved slightly against her skin, the friction of rough against smooth sparking need.

Swallowing hard, she raised her own hands and spread them against his chest. Under her fingers, under the soft cotton of his worn shirt, she could feel his heart beating. “Back off,” she warned, forcing herself to remember Rebel. And Gina. “I’m Mike’s guest, not yours.”

He did, but the contempt colored his eyes again and she saw his mouth tighten. “Afraid I can’t afford you?”

His words were insulting, but perfect. She wanted him to keep away. Not to tempt her with that burning gaze or unyielding touch.

But behind the contempt, she thought she heard disappointment rather than dislike. Maybe even concern. That was scary, if she wasn’t overanalyzing his words. She couldn’t afford softness. On his part or hers.

She tilted her chin and spoke truthfully. “I can’t afford you, Chance.”

He looked at her a moment longer, then fished a phone out of his pocket.

“I don’t have time to walk you home,” he muttered.

She knew the less time she spent with Chance, the safer her secrets were, and the sooner she could ditch Mike Towers forever.

But she wished they had a little longer anyway.