Unforgettable: A Loveswept Classic Romance (13 page)

Mac tipped his head in acknowledgment.

She and James left the barn a few minutes later. They stopped by mutual silent consent at the fence enclosing his horse’s pasture. Despite her worries, Anne was all too aware of James’s body so close to hers. She felt almost hemmed in. But to move away would look childish, and she refused to be childish.

Instead, she leaned on the top rail and stared at the horse, placid and intent on finding the sweet grasses. That restless energy was fading already. He might not look so vigorous on the outside, but he was growing healthier on the inside.

“I’m sorry, James,” she whispered.

“Anybody ever tell you that you blame yourself for everything?” he asked, his smile belying his angry tone. “I told you last night to stop it.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Lord, woman, you want the earth.” He grimaced. “How could you have known anyone would try such a thing? Even now, knowing that someone has tried to hurt him, it still doesn’t make any sense. What’s to be gained from it?”

“Ruin for somebody,” she said, then took a deep breath. “Probably me.”

She’d said it out loud finally. It had kept her awake the whole night. The only explanation for “why” was that somebody was trying to ruin her farm. Somebody must hate her with a terrifying passion to do such a thing. And she had no idea why.

“No. Not you,” James said, covering her hand with his. His touch sent sharp signals pulsing through her body. She couldn’t pull her hand away without looking silly yet again. Acting one’s age certainly had its drawbacks, she thought in disgust.

Oblivious to the torment his touch created, James said, “I’ve thought about that since last night when we got the report. It could just as easily be me. I could name a number of people who wouldn’t mind seeing me take a bath on that horse. I’ve been very successful in a cutthroat business. Anyway, I can’t imagine you having any enemies. You’re much too sexy.”

She blushed and ducked her head so he wouldn’t see. His words gave her more pleasure than they should. When she had her face under control, she turned back. “Very funny, James. I’ll tell Eddie Murphy he’s got heavy-duty competition.”

“If you don’t want to discuss how sexy you are, then just say so,” he said, grinning at her.

She pulled her hand away. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Thank you very much.”

He eyed her sourly, and she couldn’t help chuckling. “Turning back to the topic at hand, then,” he said, “the question is who.”

“And how,” she added, following his lead and turning her mind back to the problem with Battle
Cry. Her body objected strenuously. She ignored it and said, “I can’t imagine somebody injecting him with the stuff regularly over several weeks. They would have been seen, surely. And Mac’s an old hand. He would have noticed the small welts a needle puncture would leave. That’s why I think someone’s been feeding the drug to him. We take precautions for burglars and vandals, but that’s clearly not enough. I cringe when I think of the visitors and deliveries made every week. It’s just that there are so many people who come and go here on legitimate business.”

“You’ve never had any problems before,” he reminded her. “So why should you have been worried when there was nothing to worry about? You’ve secured the stallion barn area.”

“Too late,” she muttered, feeling overwhelmed again.

“I have a feeling now that this method has been discovered, it won’t be used again.”

She straightened. “What are you saying? That there will be more?”

“Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble here for some reason,” he said, his expression thoughtful. “What was done to Battle Cry wasn’t a lark, but a very calculated move. I doubt they’re going to stop just because we’ve discovered the game.”

She could easily sense the anger in him … and an odd hesitation. Immediately, she knew he was about to say something she wasn’t going to like.

He did. “I can’t help thinking that we were meant to discover this. That worries me … about you. I think I should be around more—”

“How much more?” she broke in, her suspicions rising at an alarming rate.

“About twenty-four hours more—”

“Twenty-four hours!” she exclaimed, staring at him. “That’s day
and
night!”

“Very good, Anne,” he said in a schoolteacher’s tone. “You get an A.”

“And you get an F if you think you’re moving in.” The notion sent fear raking through her—fear for how fast she would fall for him if he were around all the time. “I might have a problem, but your moving in is hardly necessary.”

“I think it’s very necessary.” He pointed to Battle Cry. “Somebody who’s not very nice is up to mischief around here, Annie. And I think you need some protection—”

“Oh, no, I don’t! I have Tibbs—”

“He’s too busy getting fussed over by Lettice.”

“I have employees.”

“And I have a personal stake in this. What are you afraid of, Annie?”

That, she thought. The way he said her name, the way he looked at her. The way he touched her, and the way he
didn’t
. She was afraid of all of that.

“I understand your wanting to watch over your horse,” she said, picking her way carefully through the mine field he was laying. “But I don’t need someone to watch over me.”

“Yes, you do—”

“No, I don’t. I’m hardly helpless.” She refused to look away, keeping her gaze steady on those green eyes that haunted her sleep. “If you want to move Battle Cry, I understand. But under no circumstances are you moving in.”

She pushed away from the fence and walked down the path.

James caught up with her. “Anne, be reasonable.”

“Oh, I am.” She smiled sweetly. “I appreciate
the offer, James. Really I do. Only I must say, Thank you, but no.”

“I don’t like it,” he said grudgingly.

She was tempted to tell him to sit on a tack if he didn’t, but she decided to be gracious. “I’ll be fine, James. I promise to stick close to Lettice. Between her and Tibbs, the s.o.b. who’s doing this doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Let me hire a security firm,” he offered, trying another approach.

“No. I won’t have the routine of the farm disrupted.” She stopped and faced him. Shoving her hands into her jacket pockets, she added, “James, please. Allow me to handle this.”

“At least think about it, Annie.”

She frowned. She wasn’t being obtuse; she really didn’t want the routine of the farm disrupted any further. Still, maybe she should consider outside security. “I’ll think about it.”

“And if anything else does happen, I move in,” he said.

“No. I told you that was hardly necessary.”

He gazed at her, his eyes unfathomable. “Anne, I have this need to watch over those I … care about.”

She turned away and closed her eyes against the emotions knifing through her. Mr. Perfect strikes again, she thought. She knew better than to attribute his offer to anything other than “caring” for an old friend. That was all it was.

“Thank you, James, I appreciate that,” she murmured, opening her eyes.

“So you agree?”

“Oh, sure,” she replied in a careless tone to get him to drop the subject.

“Good.” His smile was dazzling.

What a guy, she thought sarcastically. And that was her problem.

What a guy.

James smiled to himself as he helped Lettice set the table for dinner.

So Anne didn’t want him to play twenty-four-hour bodyguard. Although he was disappointed, he had to admit her reaction was promising. She hadn’t liked his suggestion one bit. The implications were interesting.

He nearly tripped over Tibbs, who growled a warning at him.

James was tempted to growl back. The damn thing had adopted Lettice, as if she were its long-lost mother. Wherever she was, Tibbs was. Underfoot.

“It’s not James’s fault that you insist on lying right in the pathway,” Lettice told the animal. “Now go lie under the table.”

With a dejected look the dog slunk between the chairs, out of sight.

James chuckled, then turned his attention to his second major problem. He was worried over what had happened with Battle Cry. And he was more than worried that there would be another incident. He had a feeling Anne was the target. If somebody wanted to get at him through the horse, they would have simply eliminated the animal altogether. He wanted to protect her.…

“I didn’t know setting a table could elicit that much of a frown, James,” Lettice said.

“I was thinking of something,” he said.

“My granddaughter, no doubt.”

He laughed, and Lettice smiled.

Anne walked into the dining room just then … and stopped cold when she saw him. James found his gaze focusing on her breasts. The small yet full curve of them demanded appreciation. He was more than happy to give it.

“James is staying for dinner,” Lettice announced, her voice daring her granddaughter to object.

“So I see.” She slowly walked farther into the room. “It’s hard to believe you two would be setting the table.”

“Snob,” Lettice murmured, then added, “so what have you decided to do about James’s horse?”

“We’re still ‘discussing’ the matter,” James said, still looking at Anne.

Lettice glanced between the two of them. “I see.”

“Where’s Tibbs?” Anne asked, clearly not wanting to continue their “discussion.”

“Under the table, where I told him to go,” Lettice replied.

Anne bent down and lifted the lace tablecloth. But instead of calling to the dog, she straightened and stared at the material in her hand.

“This isn’t mine,” she said. “At least I don’t think I have a tablecloth like this.”

“Really, Anne, you’ve been working too hard if you can’t remember your own things,” Lettice said. “And you’re worried about Missile Shout.”

“Battle Cry,” James and Anne said together.

They looked at each other and laughed. James could feel the emotional foundation strengthening between them. He couldn’t rush this. He’d waited a long time for her, longer than he had ever realized. A little more patience on his part and all the walls would crumble.

•    •    •

After dinner Anne loaded the dishwasher, then walked over to the back door and removed her jacket from a peg beside it. James took the jacket from her and held it out for her.

She hesitated for a moment, then slipped her arms in. Her fingers brushed her shoulders lightly, and a hot wave of reaction rushed through her. He lifted his own jacket from the rack and put it on.

“Leaving?” she asked, annoyed with the breathlessness in her voice.

He just smiled in answer and called a good night to Lettice and Philip. Then he curled his lip at Tibbs, who wagged his tail in return.

Anne had to smile. “Come on, Tibbs. Want to go for a walk?”

James groaned. The dog looked to Lettice first, who said “go.” Anne curled her lip at her grandmother. “When you go back home, take
five
things with you.”

“She doesn’t mean it,” Philip said to Lettice.

“Don’t tempt me,” Anne muttered.

She opened the back door. Tibbs raced past her, and she stepped over the threshold. James followed. She walked down the back porch steps. James followed. She walked along the path toward the farm buildings. James followed.

She stopped and whirled around. “Are you following me?”

“Nope.”

She turned around again and took two steps. James followed. She looked back. Even in the darkness she could see his grin.

“I thought you weren’t following me.”

“I’m not.” He closed the gap between them and took her arm in a courtly gesture. “I’m escorting you.”

Her heart pounded heavily at his touch. He had only to look at her these days, and she responded. His touch sent her right off her personal Richter scale. But she resisted the urge to jerk away. Calmly, she stepped back out of his grip. “I have Tibbs to escort me.”

“He’s not nearly as protective as I am, believe me.”

James took her arm again, effectively trapping her. To pull away once was understandable, twice was blatantly announcing his touch was disturbing. He started walking up the path, and she had no choice but to join him.

“Have you give any thought to what I said about a security service?” he asked.

Relief washed through her at the topic of conversation. She’d love anything that would distract her from her acute awareness of the way his fingers curved around her elbow, the way his body moved. The closeness …

“I’m thinking about it,” she said, forcing herself under control.

Okay, so he was touching her. A couple of inches of contact through her heavy tweed jacket and sweater was nothing to get excited about. So why the hell was she so excited?

“Somebody means to do some harm,” he said.

“I agree somebody’s trying to do something.” She stared up at the night sky, then at Tibbs, who was sniffing every tuft of grass with doggy concentration. “But whoever did it had to know we’d discover it. It was almost as if they wanted to be discovered. I don’t want to panic. I talked with my entire staff today, and we’re taking a number of added precautions to keep the animals safe.”

She stopped walking. She knew she would have
to tell him what she didn’t even want to admit to herself. “James, dammit! Curtis and I have gone over and over how somebody could have fed the steroids to Battle Cry. To create this kind of problem in a horse, the drugs had to be fed into him regularly. Not in one or two big doses, but a little at a time, almost daily, until they built up in his system. No outsiders have been here that often. That means either someone has been sneaking in at night—all the stables will now have somebody there at night, all night. One of my people, one I can trust.”

She stared at the pastures. Usually there were horses out there at night—most liked the outdoors except in the worst weather. But there were no graceful shapes in the darkness tonight, or any other night from now on. The reminder was all too poignant.

“You said ‘either,’ ” James prompted.

She swallowed. “I did. The other ‘either’ is that someone who is here on a daily basis did it. Someone I employ.”

She had bristled at Mac’s remark that morning. But after a discussion with Curtis and looking over the recent delivery schedule, she had concluded there was a real possibility that the culprit was one of her employees. The thought made her sick.