- Available in: Ebook, Paperback
- Published: June 28, 2010
There’s one sure way for a person to get what they want in this world…
Alex Finley knows the hard life. Her father abandoned her and her dying mother, only to reclaim the family’s Wyoming ranch with a new wife. Alex’s rage drove her away to Los Angeles to live with a man who could never satisfy her.
Ten years later she comes home and hits the town with a vengeance, unleashing her pent-up lust on cowpoke Connor Matthews. She’s shocked to learn that her family ranch is now a resort, and that bucking bronco Connor is running the place.
Now Alex is torn between accepting a lover who can give her everything she needs-or selling out to a smooth-talking neighbor and leaving the past behind her.
Connor looked at the clock for the umpteenth time and cursed under his breath. It was nearly eleven o’clock and Alex wasn’t back yet. He’d heard from several people that she’d driven off in a black Lexus—James’s car. And this was, of course, after Connor had told her not to go.
The woman had been there only a few weeks and she’d already tied him into knots. Now she was on a date with James Howard, consorting with the man who had done his best to snatch Finley’s Ranch. She played with fire like a damn magician. Well, he didn’t want to get burned. It was time he confronted her about all of this and let her know what he wanted.
Her half of Finley’s.
He swallowed hard and realized his interactions so far with Alex had all been about sex or fighting. All passionate energy that left him drained, physically and emotionally. She lit a fire within him and he felt completely out of control.
Did he want to buy her out? Yes, he did. Did he want her to leave Finley’s? No, he didn’t. That left him in a conundrum of what to do. He couldn’t have her dating James Howard, though.
His ire arose anew at the thought of her with that low-down bastard. Connor had never told anyone that he suspected Howard had something to do with accidents around the ranch. There were broken fences, tack that wore out long before it should, a few missing horses and even a fire at one of the cabins. Then Grant was killed and the accidents stopped.
It all seemed too coincidental to Connor, and he kept a close eye on all the happenings at the ranch. His tight management prevented anything else, but there was no way he’d relax his guard. Particularly since Howard seemed to have set his sights on the next generation of Finley’s to get his hands on the property.
Connor had asked Grant once why James hadn’t simply asked to pay for a tributary from the river if it was the water he wanted. Grant had told him, “That man doesn’t want anything handed to him. If he doesn’t take it, hunt it or steal it, then it ain’t worth spit.”
He remembered the conversation clearly because it was on the day Grant had died. Connor had never forgotten what his mentor told him. It had been a warning of sorts, one that Connor took very seriously.
He stood at the window of the cabin and looked out at the moonlit path. A solitary figure walked toward the fence. His body clenched at the realization it was Alex. She had a sweet swing to her hips and her hair bounced when she walked.
It was dark in the cabin but he wanted it that way. The moment she stepped up on the porch, he walked toward the door. She flicked on the porch light as his hand reached for the knob. Connor’s temper returned in full force when he smelled perfume.
As she walked in the cabin, he yanked open the door. He didn’t expect the foot to the stomach or the uppercut to the jaw. Connor landed hard on his ass and he did his best to suck in a breath. The light nearly blinded him, and he managed to hold up one hand in surrender.
“Alex,” he gasped.
She stopped in midswing and her mouth dropped open. “Connor, what the hell are you doing?”