Fit To Be Tied: Fit To Be Tied / The Lyon's Den
Carol Finch
Selina Sinclair
Fit To Be TiedMonkey business in cattle country!Rancher Devlin Callahan is ready to read the riot act to his nearest neighbor. Jessica Porter had turned his forty acres into a blasted zoo! Her exotic animals are panicking his placid cows and stressing out his sheep. His plan is to get rid of her and her rowdy herd…. Until Devlin realizes that sexy Jessica could charm any animal–or cranky cowboy–with just a smile. How can he run her out of town when she's got him all tied up in knots?The Lyon's DenLittle did he know, he was about to be tamed!Lyn Mackenzie couldn't afford to loss Miss Hammond. But his seemingly robotic assistant was resigned–to get married, of all things! When Liv realized her beastly boss was in a bind, she agreed to stay on temporarily. Only, she hadn't counted on playing mommy to her godson for that week, or on playing wife to Lyon when their biggest client caught them in a very compromising position!
Two brand-new stories in every volume…twice a month!
Duets Vol. #35
Featured authors are Liz Ireland, who creates “sassy characters, snappy dialogue and rip-roaring adventures…” says Romantic Times, and popular historical writer Cheryl Anne Porter, who always delivers “a funny ride—a roller coaster of fun and adventure.”—Romance Communications
Duets Vol. #36
Voted Storyteller of the Year twice by Romantic Times, Silhouette writer Carol Finch “presents her fans with rollicking, wild adventures…and fun from beginning to end.” Also making their Duets debut is the writing team of Selina Sinclair, who writes “a fast-paced, funny and spicy…novel.” —Women’s Fiction Exchange
Be sure to pick up both Duets volumes today!
Fit to be Tied
Carol Finch
The Lyon’s Den
Selina Sinclair
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Contents
Fit to be Tied (#udbd1416b-680f-5d49-90a5-16f3cea88959)
Chapter 1 (#uf6ecf6d9-03d9-590c-980a-0975fe59a486)
Chapter 2 (#ufa8e4be3-289d-5aef-b36e-b1f732425aa3)
Chapter 3 (#u8b770f69-945c-5ad0-ab83-7c2a0fa2d0f9)
Chapter 4 (#uad5fc69a-b33a-52a8-8a4d-a47c24eef530)
Chapter 5 (#u633a1c4f-eef9-50cf-94ce-4414313b80ab)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
The Lyon’s Den (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 2 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 3 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Fit to be Tied
Carol Finch
“Are you trying to spy on me?” Jessica shrieked
“Uh, calm down a minute, blondie,” Devlin called out from the balcony. “I’m only trying to be neighborly. Let me come in so we can—”
“No!”
“I’m not leaving till we talk, Porter.”
“Then I’m calling the cops, Peeping Tom!”
When he saw her lunge for the phone, Devlin tried to open the door. Unfortunately his foot went through the rotted board on the balcony. Staggering backward, he howled in alarm when the rickety railing gave way behind him.
Devlin cartwheeled across the sloped roof and took a header downward. He landed spread-eagled in a myrtle bush.
“Are you all right?”
Devlin looked up to see Jessica standing on the broken balcony, staring down at him with a mixture of amusement and concern. He lay there, dazzled by the effect of her smile, wishing something besides his clumsiness was the cause of it….
Dear Reader,
I’m delighted to make my debut in Duets! There is nothing I enjoy more than writing romantic comedy, because I firmly believe love and laughter go hand in hand.
Unfortunately, it takes Devlin and Jessica, the hero and heroine of Fit To Be Tied, a while to realize what they’re missing. Devlin is too busy fuming over the fact that his kooky female neighbor has established an exotic animal sanctuary across the fence from his ranch and his cattle are stampeding. He wants Jessica’s squawking, roaring animals gone, pronto. And Jessica along with them! But nobody tells headstrong Jessica what to do—especially not her blustery, domineering neighbor.
The feud festers, but something more complicated and compelling than temper flares between these two spirited individuals. And what could be more confounding than falling in love with someone from the wrong side of the fence, and the opposing side of the feud? Devlin and Jessica are about to find out that love flagrantly disregards boundaries.
I hope Fit To Be Tied brings you a smile and a few hours of reading pleasure.
Enjoy!
Carol Finch
This book is dedicated to my husband Ed and our children—Christie, Jill, Kurt, Jeff and Jon—with much love. And to our grandchildren, Brooklynn, Kennedy and Blake. Hugs and kisses!
1
THIS IS THE LAST STRAW! Devlin Callahan fumed as he buried the needle of the speedometer on his pickup and barreled down the gravel road, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. He did not have to put up with this nonsense! And he wasn’t going to, either. He intended to confront this problem the same way he handled every other problem—head-on—even if he had to deal with that female kook who bought the forty acres bordering the west fence of the Rocking C Ranch.
The zoo—as Devlin referred to the menagerie of exotic animals housed next to his cattle and sheep—was a constant disturbance. The zookeeper was about to get an earful, because Devlin had had it up to his eyeballs! He and his brother had spent the whole cursed day on horseback, rounding up frightened cattle and repairing broken fences. Damn it, there was enough to do on the Rocking C without unscheduled roundups.
Devlin hadn’t met his new neighbor, but he disliked her, and her zoo, sight unseen. The frustrated old biddy probably filled the emptiness in her meaningless life by surrounding herself with exotic animals that had no business whatsoever being housed in cattle country.
Slamming on the brake, Devlin skidded sideways in the loose gravel, hung a left, then smirked when the zookeeper’s antiquated two-story farmhouse came into view. The house was screaming for a coat of paint. The yard begged to be spiffed up. Devlin grudgingly admitted that the colorful flowers surrounding the foundation and gushing from the plastic pots on the porch perked up the place, but the old house definitely needed some cosmetic repairs to restore it to its former grandeur.
Of course, the female fruitcake who owned the place probably couldn’t spare the time because she was too busy talking to all those wild animals caged behind her house.
Devlin mentally kicked himself—and not for the first time—because he hadn’t purchased this property when it came up for sale eight months earlier. At the time, Devlin and his brother thought the price of the land was too steep. But Miz Jessica Porter—who was obviously clueless about property value in Oklahoma cattle country—had forked over the dough for her homestead. Now Devlin had a nutty neighbor he didn’t want and a bunch of exotic animals who roared and howled and squawked and drove his livestock through the fences.
He bounded from his pickup and stalked toward the porch. He spied the puddle-jumper sports car that was parked in the driveway. Typical city slicker, he thought. That low-slung car wouldn’t last a year on these rough country roads. Anybody with half a brain knew that. All except Miz Jessica Porter, keeper of the zoo, that is.
Devlin pounded his fist against the door, waited until he ran out of patience—which took all of two seconds—then beat on the door with both fists.
“Porter! Open up! I know you’re in there!” he shouted. “We have to talk! Now!”
His booming voice triggered the high-pitched cry of a peacock. A moose bellowed in the near distance, and a goose honked in chorus. Devlin rolled his eyes in frustration and swore inventively.
A few more seconds passed while unidentified screeches and roars erupted in the near distance. Devlin raised both fists to pound on the door again…and accidentally whacked Miz Jessica on the forehead when she whipped open the door unexpectedly.
His image of a frustrated, middle-aged spinster sporting a hooked nose, beady eyes and pointed chin dissolved when Devlin encountered a woman so astonishingly attractive he wondered if he was staring at some kind of optical illusion.
Eyes the color of a tropical rain forest zeroed in on him. Hair the color of sunbeams glistened around her enchanting face. His gaze dropped to survey an alluring figure that Hugh Hefner would kill to photograph.
Encountering Jessica Porter in the flesh was equivalent to being shot with a stun gun. This was his kooky neighbor? This was the zookeeper? No, couldn’t be. Must be some mistake.
“Porter?” he asked doubtfully.
“Yes. You bellowed, sir?”
Her snippy tone and angry glare assured Devlin that this drop-dead-gorgeous female was no pushover. She met his gaze directly and took a combative stance in the doorway. She assessed his grimy T-shirt, dusty jeans and scuffed boots and frowned in blatant disapproval.
Devlin couldn’t say why she so thoroughly disapproved of him. Could’ve been the fact that he’d pounded on her door, yelled at her, then accidentally konked her on the noggin. Or could’ve been that she didn’t like the looks of a sweaty cowboy who’d spent the day riding the range and shared his horse’s fragrance.
Sophisticated snob, Devlin concluded as he surveyed Jessica’s crimson red silk power suit that shouted expensive. He suspected she had taken one look at his faded work clothes and decided she was entirely too good for him. Well, fine. She didn’t like hardworking cowboys, and he didn’t like prissy debutantes. So they were even.
“I’m Devlin Callahan, your nearest neighbor,” he said abruptly.
“You’re my closest neighbor? How unfortunate for me.” Her voice dripped sarcasm.
“That goes double for me, Blondie,” he countered, then glared at her.
Not to be outdone, she glared right back.
“I’m here because your zoo animals spooked my sheep and cattle for the fourth time in two months. You’re gonna have to load up those animals and haul them to a wildlife refuge. As you can plainly see, this is ranch country.”
Her chin shot up and, although the woman was a good eight inches shorter than Devlin, who stood six feet three inches in his riding boots, she still managed to look down her nose at him. How’d she do that?
“For your information, Culligan—”
“Callahan,” he corrected tersely.
“Whatever,” she said, dismissing him as if she had the same regard for him as for a clump of Brussels sprouts. “For your information, I have a license to house and care for my exotic animals. Each animal has its own unique personality and special need. I can communicate with them. I understand them.”
“You talk to your animals?” he asked, then scoffed. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”
She glared meat cleavers at him. “I’m sure that if you toured my wildlife sanctuary even a man like you would realize that my animals are safely and securely housed and pose no threat whatsoever.”
A man like him? Devlin wasn’t sure what she implied, but her tone of voice alerted him that he had been insulted. “Lady, I don’t care if your animals have rings through their noses and bells on their toes. They are upsetting my livestock, and I want them gone. And you along with them!”
That really must have ticked her off, because she braced her fists on those curvaceous hips, planted her well-shod feet shoulder-width apart, stuck her face in his and stated, “If you don’t approve of living next door to my wildlife sanctuary, then you can pack up and move. I have no intention of budging from this spot, because I like it here, and so do my animals. Furthermore, if you have future complaints, then take them up with the sheriff in Buzzard’s Grove, not that it will do you any good.”
“Look, lady—”
“Jessica Porter. Miss Porter to you, Culligan,” she said in that snippy tone that made Devlin grind his teeth in irritation.
“Here’s the deal, lady. My brother and I run a large cattle and farming operation—”
“And I’m supposed to be impressed?” She gave him another one of those condescending looks. “Sorry to disappoint you, Culligan. Cowboys are a nickel a dozen in this neck of the woods.”
“I don’t give a rip whether or not you’re impressed,” Devlin retorted. Damn—the woman knew exactly which buttons to push! “The point is that this zoo may be fun and games to you, may fill up the endless hours in your lonely, miserable life, but our livestock is our livelihood. Your exotic animals snarl, hoot, howl and growl all hours of the day and night and cause cattle stampedes. I spent the whole livelong day gathering cattle because of your zoo. The problem can be alleviated if you’ll get rid of those menaces.”
She glowered at him good and hard. “Can I help it if your wimpy cattle and timid sheep bolt and run because of an unfamiliar noise? You don’t see my animals leaping fences just because dumb cows moo or sheep baa. My fences and pens are holding up just fine. Obviously your ability to build solid restraining fences is lacking.”
Devlin was getting nowhere fast. Miss Hoity-Toity didn’t want to see his side of the situation, didn’t care that he’d busted his butt on roundup and fence repair.
“Fine,” he muttered in exasperation. “Then you can pay for my time and the expenses, and I won’t complain—as much.”
She scoffed and looked down her nose at him again.
“Your livestock is on the rampage and you want me to pay for the fence repairs? My animals are housed in sturdy pens and cages, surrounded by twelve-feet-tall chain-link fences. It seems to me that I’m not the one with the problem here, Culligan. You are.”
“No, you are the problem!” Devlin snapped, at the end of his patience. He skewered her with a glower. “Snippy, dim-witted city slicker. Go back where you belong and take your zoo with you!”
Her chin went airborne as she squared her shoulders and clenched her fists by her sides. “This is where I belong, the only place I belong. I’m here to stay, so you better get used to the idea!” she said, puffing like a blowfish.
They exchanged significant glares, and Devlin was gearing up for a really terrific rejoinder when she slammed the door in his face.
A goose waddled around the corner of the house, honking in objection to Devlin’s presence. A bear growled in the distance, accompanied by several sounds that Devlin couldn’t identify—none of which sounded friendly. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if there was an alligator living in that oversize pond, waiting to bite off his feet if he dared to stalk around to the back of the house.
Pond, he thought. That was another thing that really irritated him, come to think of it. That fire-breathing female had dammed up the spring-fed stream to form a gigantic pond in her pasture. The dam cut off the flow of water to Rocking C’s stream. During the arid summer months Devlin and his brother had been forced to haul water to cattle in the west pasture and fill stock tanks.
Another major inconvenience he failed to mention to the dragon lady.
Devlin had half a mind to reverse his direction, pound on the front door again and insist that she dig a trench in the pond dam. No, on second thought, he’d take the matter up with Sheriff Osborn. Maybe the dragon lady had a legitimate license to shelter exotic animals, but she certainly didn’t have the right to alter the flow of the stream and deprive Rocking C cattle of water.
Wheeling around, Devlin stalked away. The pesky goose lowered its head and charged after him, nipping and honking at his heels. Devlin ignored the feathered pest, piled into his pickup and revved the engine. He sprayed gravel on the low-slung car as he sped away—and he wouldn’t be the least bit sorry if he accidentally cracked the dragon lady’s windshield with flying rock. It would serve her right for being so stubborn.
Devlin muttered to himself as he roared toward home. His brother had recommended using diplomacy when confronting the neighbor lady. Devlin was pretty sure that wouldn’t have worked any better than his direct, confrontational approach. He had noticed the look of disapproval when Jessica Porter gave him the once-over. Hell, he’d have to have been blind in both eyes not to realize she had no use for him. That woman would not have compromised under any circumstances.
What really baffled Devlin was that, despite his irritation, he found her physically attractive. He’d caught himself staring at her body with male appreciation a couple of times during their heated argument and had to jerk his attention to her face. Which didn’t help a whole lot, because she had a bewitching face, to boot. It was humiliating for a man who usually had to fight off women with a stick to know that he liked what he saw and that Miss High and Mighty Porter behaved as if he didn’t measure up to her lofty standards.
What difference did that make? his smarting pride asked. No way would he be interested in dating Porter, not with their conflict over her exotic animals standing between them. And not that he was the teensiest bit interested, Devlin assured himself. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Well, okay, maybe for a nanosecond—until she’d opened her sassy mouth and let the wisecracks and zingers fly.
Glancing at his watch, Devlin made tracks toward home. It was his brother’s night to cook, and Derrick got bent out of shape when Devlin was late. The Wednesday night menu at Rocking C was always the same: hamburger patties smothered in cream of mushroom soup, fried potatoes and okra. Devlin would have preferred cooked goose—specifically, the one that had appointed itself as Jessica Porter’s guard dog.
Devlin glanced at the cattle herd grazing in the pasture, wondering if he’d wake up in the morning to another stampede. Jessica Porter’s coyotes would probably be howling at the moon, causing the rest of the zoo to join in chorus. The cattle would be to hell and gone by sunrise, Devlin predicted.
He sighed heavily. Tomorrow would undoubtedly test his patience once again.
“STUBBORN, PIGHEADED COWBOY,” Jessica muttered as she doffed her business suit, then snatched up her jeans and T-shirt.
The very last thing she’d needed, after dealing with an unreasonable, demanding client at her accounting office, was to confront her annoying neighbor. She had lived in this community for almost six months, and not once had Devlin Callahan dropped by to welcome her. Oh, no, the jerk hadn’t bothered to set foot on the place until he came to complain and shout ultimatums at her.
It hadn’t helped that Jessica encountered Devlin immediately after opening her credit card statement to discover that her two-timing ex-fiancé had charged a Caribbean cruise, for two, to her account. Damn the man! No, damn all men in general, she corrected bitterly. Why not? Every frustration she’d dealt with during the course of the day had come at the hands of the male of the species.
“Hell of a day, Jess,” she said to herself as she exited her bedroom and trotted down the staircase. There was one surefire way to lighten her black mood, and that was to wander among the exotic animals that had become her charges.
Jessica smiled fondly when her guard goose greeted her on the back porch and performed its usual head-dipping ritual. The goose followed her across the lawn to retrieve feed from the barn. With each step Jessica took toward the pens and cages in the distance, the day’s tension drained away. Despite what Devlin Callahan presumed, these animals could not be returned to the wilds because of their handicaps and special needs. They needed her, she reminded herself, and that cowboy with the attitude wasn’t going to force her to relocate them.
Jessica’s lifelong love of animals and her tendency to pick up strays had become a crusade during her post-college years in Tulsa, where she had learned the ropes of the accounting business. Her high-dollar salary had allowed her to purchase acreage to house her exotic animals, but the generous offer from an industrial corporation convinced her to sell the property and relocate. Jessica had quadrupled her investment and decided to move to the laid-back hamlet of Buzzard’s Grove to establish her own accounting office.
The decision hadn’t been difficult because there were no close family ties to consider, only a few friends from the office who had their own families and personal lives.
Then, of course, there was her ex-fiancé—the hotshot Triple-A baseball star whose idea of a road trip included notching his bedpost with different women from different cities. It was only by accident that Jessica discovered Rex’s womanizing tendencies and promptly canceled their engagement. Humiliated, outraged, Jessica had packed up her animals and moved to the country. Unfortunately, Rex the ex had the last laugh when he billed charges to her credit card.
First thing in the morning, Jessica intended to cancel her MasterCard and contact American Express. She was not paying for Rex’s getaways again.
Jessica inhaled a breath of fresh country air, exhaled slowly and told herself to get a grip. Rex was history. She’d played the naive fool once, but never again. She vowed to avoid those macho, chauvinistic jock types—like her disagreeable neighbor. Just because she found Devlin Callahan physically appealing, what with his shock of raven hair, midnight-black eyes, broad shoulders, rock-hard muscles and horseman’s thighs, didn’t mean she was the slightest bit interested in getting involved with him. Besides, she needed to channel her time and energy into making a success of her business venture, refurbishing the house and providing care for her animals.
Jessica had known the moment she laid eyes on this forty-acre plot, with its rolling hills and thick groves of cottonwoods, elms and redbud trees, that she had finally found a place that felt like home. She had spent most of her life leaving behind what took forever to become comfortable and familiar. But she had known instinctively that she could happily put down roots here.
A sense of peace stole over her as she strode from one pen to the next, greeting and feeding her many charges. The brown bear she called Teddy performed his swaying ritual, then hobbled forward on his gimpy leg to devour the food Jessica placed in his pen. Each animal had its own way of greeting her, its special traits, that made her feel as if she was visiting with a dear friend.
Thoughts of her fussy client, Edgar Stokes, her aggravating neighbor and her traitorous ex skittered off in the evening breeze. Ah, yes, country life was the life for her. These maimed animals depended on her. Like Jessica, they were outcasts that didn’t quite fit into society. That was okay, Jessica consoled herself. She had accepted the fact that she was an outsider, a misfit. But she and her unusual pets had settled into these wide-open spaces, and life was good.
Mother Goose honked, jolting Jessica from her pensive musings. “Not to worry, Mother, I haven’t forgotten about you.”
With the plump white goose waddling at her heels, Jessica ambled into the barn to scatter grain for her feathered friend. By the time Jessica returned to the house to pop a frozen dinner into the microwave her mood had brightened considerably. She wondered if her grouchy neighbor’s mood had eased after their heated encounter. Not that she cared if he left mad and stayed that way. All she cared was that he left and never came back.
Fact was that Devlin Callahan’s appearance triggered bitter memories of the time when she had fallen for a handsome face and muscled body. She wouldn’t make that mistake twice. Until she met a man who was willing to give as much as he took, someone who wasn’t interested in the tidy sum of money she’d made when she sold her property on the outskirts of Tulsa, she planned to avoid men, especially the ones who looked as if they stepped off a poster for Tall, Dark and Handsome. No, sirree, she wasn’t going to fall for some hunk of a cowboy who had the disposition of a wounded rhinoceros.
Lord, she still couldn’t believe that idiotic man tried to blame his problem with his flighty cattle on her, expected her to pay for his time and expenses. What unmitigated gall he had!
Refusing to give Devil Devlin another thought, Jessica shoved her frozen dinner in the microwave, then pivoted to pour herself a tall glass of iced tea.
DERRICK CALLAHAN slopped three hamburger patties, swimming in cream soup, on his plate, then glanced over his shoulder when he heard the footsteps that heralded his brother’s arrival. “’Bout time. I decided not to wait any longer. I have a date tonight and I have no intention of showing up late just because you can’t get your sorry butt back here on time.”
“Date? In the middle of the week?” Devlin inquired as he plucked up his plate for the buffet-style meal sitting on the counter.
“Yeah? So?” Derrick challenged. “What’s the matter with that? People do date on weekdays, you know.”
“Only if they’re getting serious.” Devlin scooped up a large helping of fried okra, then moved on to the bowl of fried potatoes. “You and that new restaurant owner getting serious, are you?”
“Maybe,” Derrick mumbled noncommittally, then pivoted toward the oblong oak table that sat in the middle of the spacious dining area. He used his free hand to scrape scattered mail out of his way, then plopped down on a chair. “So, how did your encounter go with the neighbor lady?”
Devlin might not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knew a diversion tactic when he heard one. His brother didn’t want to discuss his feelings for Cassie Dixon, the vivacious brunette whose new café was the talk of the town. The fact that Derrick wanted to keep his relationship with Cassie a secret from his own brother, his only living relative, suggested that Derrick was already in over his head and sinking fast. Not that Devlin blamed his brother. Cassie Dixon had class, style and personality—unlike the female fruitcake with the attitude who lived down the road.
“Well?” Derrick prompted.
Devlin glanced up from his heaped plate. “Well, what?”
“Did you convince our neighbor to relocate her zoo so it won’t disturb our livestock?”
“No, she slammed the door in my face after lambasting me with insults,” Devlin grumbled as he grabbed his fork. “The woman has a chip the size of Mount Rushmore on her shoulder, and her brain is obviously solid rock. There’s no getting through to her, not without a jackhammer and dynamite.”
Derrick rolled his eyes, then stared at his brother. “In other words, you used your standard, give-’em-hell approach and butted heads with her. I distinctly remember telling you to use diplomacy.”
“Diplomacy wouldn’t have done any good,” Devlin said.
Derrick shook his head and sighed audibly. “It is totally beyond me why you didn’t use your lady-killer smile and charm on her. There isn’t an eligible female in Buzzard County who can resist you when you turn on the charm. You shouldn’t have gone over to the neighbor’s house while you were hot under the collar. I tried to tell you to wait until you’d cooled off. But no, you climbed off your horse after roundup and blazed off. I know how you operate, Dev. When in doubt you start yelling, as if that ever solves problems. It almost never works with women. Next time, try being tactful.”
The last thing he needed was a lecture from his brother, who had a history of leaving the difficult situations for Devlin to solve. Diplomacy? Hell!
“There won’t be a next time,” Devlin muttered crankily. “If you think the charming, chivalrous approach will work—and I’ll bet money that it won’t—then you can march your candy butt over there and try to reason with her. After all, you’ve got the identical smile and more charm than I do.”
Derrick threw up his hand like a traffic cop. “Me? No way. Just because we’re identical twins doesn’t mean I’m going over there after you screwed up. She’ll take one look at me and think I’m you. I’ll get nowhere.”
“Well, she started it with her snide remarks,” Devlin said self-righteously. “But I’ll admit that it didn’t help when I accidentally smacked her right between the eyes when she abruptly opened the door.”
Derrick groaned in dismay. “Well, there you go. What do you expect? If it had been me—” he tapped himself proudly on the chest “—I would have politely rung the doorbell, not hammered on the door. The accident would never have happened.”
Devlin bared his teeth and glared at his twin. The thing about being an identical twin was that you never felt as if you had your own individuality, especially when you had to sit across the table every night and work side by side every day. Especially when Derrick was forever handing out free advice, just because he was all of three minutes older and considered himself twice as smart.
“I swear, Dev, you turned cantankerous after you went ape over that prissy redhead a few years back.”
“Don’t remind me,” Devlin grumbled. “I got my heart trampled while you glided merrily from one woman to the next…until Cassie Dixon showed up in town and turned your brain into Malt-O-Meal.”
Derrick scowled at the insult.
Devlin scowled back.
“Okay, so I didn’t get my heart broken at the tender age of twenty-five.”
“Exactly my point, Derr. You aren’t jaded and cynical. You’re better prepared for dealing with Jessica Porter and the zoo. The woman is easy on the eye, which I’m sure you’ll appreciate. You need to get over there and talk some sense into her before those squalling, bellowing zoo animals scatter our livestock to kingdom come.”
“Our neighbor lady is attractive?” Derrick asked.
“A regular knockout,” Devlin confirmed, then munched on potatoes. “You probably won’t open your mouth and say the wrong thing. You can sweet-talk her into being reasonable, even if she thinks you’re me. In fact, you two might even hit it off—”
“Oh, no,” Derrick loudly objected. “That’s the last thing I need right now. I’ve got a good thing going with Cassie and I’m not about to screw it up. I’m not getting within a mile of the neighbor’s house, for fear that Cassie might get the wrong idea.”
“Tell Cassie it was me,” Devlin suggested. “It’s not like she’ll know the difference.”
“Absolutely, positively not,” Derrick refused. “You made a mess of the negotiations with the Porter lady and you’re going to straighten this out!”
Derrick swallowed the last bite of hamburger patty, then vaulted to his feet. “While you’re cleaning up the kitchen I’m going to shower, then I’m out of here. Cassie and I are going to watch a movie at her place. You can spend the evening practicing being charming, polite and diplomatic. Tomorrow night you can waltz over to the neighbor’s, bearing gifts of flowers and candy, and make amends.”
“You want me to court trouble with a capital T?” Devlin crowed. “No way in hell!”
“This is your feud, bro. You started it and you can end it. I’m staying completely out of it.” Derrick frowned darkly. “Fix the problem, hear me?”
Devlin glared laser beams at his brother’s departing back. Fix the problem? Yeah, right. The only way to resolve the situation was to lock Jessica Porter in a cage with her exotic animals, then ship her off to a wildlife refuge that was far, far away from the Rocking C Ranch.
An hour later, while Devlin was relaxing on the porch swing, reading the biweekly newspaper, he heard an unearthly scream that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Cougar, he thought, then gnashed his teeth when a bobcat growled in the distance.
Damn it to hell, about the same time every night Porter’s zoo orchestra struck up a racket that spoiled the serenity of the evening. Come morning, Devlin knew what he and his brother would be doing—chasing down spooked livestock.
“Charm the dragon lady?” he asked himself. “Pretend I actually like her? Not on your life.”
An unnerving roar exploded in the twilight. Devlin slammed down the newspaper, then stormed into the house. His neighbor’s zoo was disturbing his peace. Surely there was a law against that, wasn’t there? Devlin vowed to drag Sheriff Osborn out here to listen to this racket. Then maybe Devlin would get some results!
2
“GOOD MORNING, boss,” Teresa Harper greeted enthusiastically as Jessica walked into her office in Buzzard’s Grove.
“Morning.” Jessica set her briefcase on her desk and smiled at her red-haired secretary. Jessica still had trouble believing Teresa was the same desperate, withdrawn woman who had scurried into the office three months ago, begging for a job, vowing to do whatever necessary to earn money.
Teresa had lacked spirit and self-esteem and could barely make eye contact without ducking her head and wringing her hands. The poor, distraught woman had burst into tears and spilled her hard-luck story—in between sobs and shuddering gulps. Teresa had escaped an abusive husband, filed for divorce and moved to Buzzard’s Grove to put distance between her ex and herself.
The woman desperately needed to make a new start, and Jessica felt compelled to help, because she knew what it was like to be alone and frightened and unsure where the next meal would come from, unsure if she was wanted or accepted. Jessica had hired the woman on the spot, though Teresa lacked certain secretarial skills.
Determined to see that Teresa had a new life, a positive self-image, Jessica had located an efficiency apartment in town, paid the deposit from her own pocket, offered Teresa a few garments from her own wardrobe and won an instant and devoted friend and employee.
To repay the kindness, Teresa had worked extra hours at the office to hone her skills and made every effort to be courteous and professional while dealing with clients. Once Teresa familiarized herself with business procedures, she fielded calls so Jessica could immerse herself in tallying and balancing accounts. Being the only certified accountant in town brought Jessica more business than she wanted—which was why she was so slow in making repairs around her grand old farm home.
“Whew, yesterday was a killer, wasn’t it?” Teresa remarked as she handed Jessica a cup of steaming coffee and a homemade cinnamon roll. “I almost lost my cool when that grumpy old coot barreled in here to chew you up one side and down the other because you wouldn’t fudge on his income tax form. For a minute there, I had flashbacks of dealing with my ex. If you hadn’t come charging forward to take on Edgar Stokes I would have been cowering in the corner, reduced to tears.” Teresa smiled. “I truly admire the way you stand up to men and refuse to let them intimidate you. If I keep watching those self-help videos you gave me, maybe I’ll be a force to be reckoned with, too.”
Jessica bit into the warm cinnamon roll. Her taste buds went into full-scale riot. Not only was Teresa turning into a dream employee, but she really could cook. She brought deli sandwiches for lunch, coffee cakes for breakfast, and Jessica’s mouth watered like Pavlov’s dogs at first sniff.
“Thanks for the compliment, Teresa. I’ve had lots of practice holding my own against the pushy men of the world. Edgar Stokes was just a warm-up for the annoying character who showed up on my doorstep when I got home last night.”
Alarm registered in Teresa’s wide hazel eyes. “Oh, my gosh! The man didn’t try to assault you, did he? Do I need to notify Sheriff Osborn? Can you identify your assailant?”
“Yes, he is my nearest neighbor, who stopped by to voice his displeasure with my exotic animals. No need to call the sheriff.”
“He didn’t like your animals?” Teresa harrumphed as she walked around her desk to grab her cup of coffee. “I hope you let him have it—in spades.”
“We pretty much let each other have it—in spades,” Jessica reported, then took another bite of the delicious roll. “The cowboy with the attitude claimed my exotics were disturbing his livestock and he demanded that I pay him for the time and money required to round up his cattle and repair his fences.”
“Who is this character?” Teresa questioned curiously.
“Devlin Callahan.”
“Never heard of him, but then, I’ve only been in town a few months. The man obviously isn’t one of your clients, otherwise I’d recognize his name from your files.”
That much was true, Jessica mused as she polished off the cinnamon roll, then reached for another. Teresa made it a point to familiarize herself with every client on file. Devlin Callahan was not, and never would be, on file. Jessica would refuse to handle Rocking C Ranch accounts, even if Devil Devlin asked her nicely—and she seriously doubted he was capable of that. The less she had to deal with Callahan the better she’d like it.
“Oh, look! There’s that nice Sheriff Osborn now,” Teresa said. She pointed a red-tipped finger toward the window. “He’s in the parking lot at Good Grub Diner. Want me to hustle over there and register a complaint for you? I wouldn’t mind a bit, you know.”
Jessica pivoted, her mouth wrapped around the scrumptious cinnamon roll, then choked for breath. Devlin Callahan stepped from his four-wheel-drive, fire-engine-red pickup truck and approached the sheriff. No doubt that black-eyed monster was following up her suggestion of taking complaints to the sheriff. Jessica couldn’t say she was surprised to see Callahan bending the sheriff’s ear. He certainly had bent hers during their shouting match last night, and she had let that arrogant cowboy have it with both barrels blazing.
Unwillingly, Jessica’s assessing gaze drifted over Devlin’s striking profile. The man was just too darn good-looking, she mused. If life was fair and just, Devlin’s appearance would be as offensive as his personality. Jessica couldn’t say exactly why she had reacted so unfavorably to Callahan at first glance. There was something about him that brought her feminine defenses to code-red alert. She supposed she found herself unwillingly attracted to the big galoot and went to extremes to offend and repel him.
Okay, so maybe she had gone overboard in an attempt to prove to him, and to herself, that she didn’t like the looks of him. After her fiasco with Rex the ex she resolved never to be taken in by a handsome face and magnificent male body. Rex, as it turned out, had all the emotional depth of a bar of soap. She suspected Devlin was the shining example of same-song-second-verse.
It didn’t help the situation one iota when she suffered a knee-jerk reaction to Devlin’s explosive temper. He irritated her, so naturally, she made a supreme effort to return the favor.
“Wow, who is that guy talking to the sheriff?” Teresa asked, her nose pressed to the windowpane. “He looks like a movie star or something. Is he handsome or what, boss?”
“That’s Callahan,” Jessica reported. “Don’t be fooled by his good looks. He can be a fire-breathing dragon when the mood strikes. He’s probably tattling to the sheriff as we speak, trying to convince Osborn to pressure me into relocating my exotic animals, because God-Almighty Callahan doesn’t want me infringing on his cattle kingdom.”
DEVLIN WAS INDEED airing his grievances to Sheriff Osborn at that very moment—for all the good it did him, just as Jessica prophesied.
“I realize you’re tired and cranky, since you were up before five this morning chasing down your scattered cattle,” Sheriff Reed Osborn commiserated. “But Miss Porter’s land is zoned for a refuge and she has a license issued by the National Coordinator of the Association of Sanctuaries. The association deals with about twenty accredited sanctuaries nationwide. Porter’s sanctuary is very reputable, and the association placed two large cats in her care a couple of months ago.”
“Two jungle cats?” Devlin hooted. “As in lions and tigers? No wonder my livestock bolts and runs! Criminey, Reed, I have wheat to plant for forage. Derrick and I need to service our tractors and machinery, not spend valuable time thundering across pastures and through ditches in an attempt to retrieve runaway cattle and sheep. This has got to stop! I’m getting no rest whatsoever, and repair bills for new barbed wire and steel fence posts are mounting up.”
Reed shrugged and sighed. “I hear ya, Dev, don’t think I don’t. But there really isn’t much I can do about the situation. None of the exotics have escaped to terrorize the countryside or put humans or livestock at direct risk. Why don’t you move your cattle to another pasture and put more distance between them and the exotics?”
“You expect me to sacrifice eighty acres of much-needed summer grass when I have hungry cattle? Sure, I can change the pasture rotation next year, but if I move those cattle to another pasture that has been grubbed to the ground because of the drought, Derrick and I will have to pay the extra expense of feeding cattle cubes. And another thing,” Dev added hastily, “that woman dammed up the stream when she built her pond at the first of the summer. Her exotics are frolicking in the pond while my livestock are going thirsty. I’ve been transporting water to them for over a month. Porter shouldn’t be allowed to block the water supply like that.”
Reed Osborn nodded his sandy blond head. “You’ve got her there, Dev. I don’t think the Association of Sanctuaries would support her on that one. Want me to talk to her about reopening the water flow to your pasture?”
“Nothing would make me happier,” Devlin replied in supreme satisfaction. “I’d rather not talk to that woman again if I don’t have to. I swear she’s placed some kind of curse on me. We haven’t had many decent rains since she moved in six months ago and dammed up the creek. The pasture grass is fizzling out, and fence repairs are cutting into profit. When she moved in things started going wrong.”
Reed chuckled in amusement. “You’re holding her personally responsible for this two-month drought and record-setting heat wave?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if she had something to do with it,” Devlin said, then snorted. “I’d call her a witch, but she would probably sue me for slander, then take over the Rocking C and turn the whole blessed ranch into a sanctuary for killer cats, mauling bears and only God knows what else.”
“Jessica Porter a witch?” Reed’s eyebrows shot up like exclamation marks. “Are we talking about the same sweet, charming woman? The Jessica I know is a model citizen. You wouldn’t believe all the charities and organizations she’s donated money to since her arrival. She contributes to anything that benefits youth groups and underprivileged children in our community.”
Devlin blinked, stunned by the glowing accolades heaped on the dragon lady. “Sweet and charming?” His arm shot out to indicate the building across the street from Good Grub Diner. “Are we talking about the Jessica Porter whose office is right over there? The woman who has the sharpest tongue in the county, even though she’s built like Miss September?”
Reed burst out laughing at the shocked expression on Devlin’s face. “Yup, that’s her. She also hired a woman who was on the run from an abusive ex-husband. Jessica marched herself over to my office to request a restraining order, in case the jerk showed up to terrorize Teresa. You should see the positive changes Teresa has undergone since Jessica took her under her wing.”
“Yeah? Turned the poor woman into a witch?” Devlin asked sarcastically.
“Hell, no!” Reed countered. “I tell you the woman is a saint. Why, Jessica even went so far as to pay Teresa’s deposit and first month’s rent, outfit her with stylish clothes and buy some secondhand furniture at the sheriff’s sale to furnish the apartment.”
Devlin blinked like a traffic caution light. Reed thought the dragon lady was a saint? Maybe it was Devlin who brought out the worst in Miss Model Citizen of the Year. From all indications, Porter only had a problem getting along with her nearest neighbor—him.
“I suggest you and the rest of the Jessica Porter fan club camp out at Rocking C and see how you like it,” Devlin grumbled. “After one night of listening to the zoo orchestra serenade you and rounding up frightened cattle, I guarantee that you’ll change your tune. That woman and her zoo are a nuisance that is testing the limits of my temper.”
“I’ll talk to Jessica about unleashing the water, but I’m telling you flat-out, Dev, you and Jess are going to have to come to some kind of reconciliation and understanding. That’s an order.” He stared meaningfully at Devlin. “I’ve got enough situations to resolve around here without dealing with feuding neighbors. Use a little of that Callahan charm instead of that short-fused temper.”
Devlin gnashed his teeth until he practically wore off the enamel. This was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that he had been instructed to rely on his charm—what there was left of it after his embarrassing heartbreak seven years earlier. He wasn’t sure he had ever possessed enough charm and patience to deal with the dragon lady.
“I mean it, Dev.” The sheriff put on his cop face and stared at Devlin. “You be especially nice to that woman, hear me? She’s done lots of good deeds here in Buzzard’s Grove. Everybody around here respects her. It wouldn’t be good for her professional reputation, or yours, if you both decided to square off at twenty paces for a showdown. I’d have to toss you both in the slammer for disturbing the peace—”
“What about the fact that her zoo is disturbing my peace?” Devlin broke in indignantly.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Dev, we’ve had sightings of bobcats and mountain lions over the years. We have packs of coyotes running around all over the place. Jessica’s animals are penned up and cause less threat. What are you gonna do? Try to sue the Association of Sanctuaries? Of course not. It’d be a waste of time. Now make an effort to mend your fences.”
“I’ve done enough of that already,” Devlin said sourly.
“That was a figure of speech,” the sheriff remarked, then flashed a smile. “Just because you got your heart broke a few years back doesn’t mean you should take out your frustration on every woman you encounter, especially not Miss Porter.”
Exasperated, Devlin threw up his hands. “Is my personal life front-page news around here? Hell, it’s like living in a fishbowl!”
Reed Osborn shrugged nonchalantly. “Typical small town stuff. Besides, you and your brother have always been the subject of gossip. You’re good-looking, successful and eligible. Deal with it, Callahan. I wish I had your problems.”
Devlin spun toward his truck. “Just talk to Porter about her blasted pond,” he ordered.
“Okay, but polish up your smile and spray on a coat of charm,” the sheriff demanded. “Work out your differences with Jessica, or you’ll both answer to me. Got it?”
Oh, he had it, all right—a pain in the lower region of his anatomy that went by the name of Jessica Porter.
Swearing under his breath, Devlin piled into his pickup and aimed himself toward the ranch. He glanced over his shoulder toward the bed of the truck, which was heaped with new steel fence posts and rolls of shiny barbed wire. Damn, if only he could figure out a way to drown those alarming noises he wouldn’t be building new stretches of fence….
An idea hatched in his head and Devlin smiled for the first time all day—one that began before five o’clock, thanks to the racket at Porter’s zoo. Devlin made a U-turn and went to the farm supply store to purchase extension cords. Maybe piped music would muffle the howls, growls and screeches.
Grinning devilishly, Devlin made the extra purchases, then headed toward home. He’d see how Porter liked listening to blaring music all night. She might have grown accustomed to being serenaded by her zoo, but lively, fast-tempo honky-tonk music would bring her straight out of bed. Once she got a taste of her own medicine, she’d know how Devlin reacted to those roars and shrieks.
JESSICA WIPED the sweat from her brow and surveyed the trench she’d dug in the pond dam. Thanks to her cantankerous, tattletale neighbor, the sheriff insisted she allow water to flow from her pond to the stream that meandered across Devlin’s pasture. Jessica was ashamed to say it hadn’t occurred to her that she had unintentionally stifled Devlin’s water supply and he’d been forced to haul water. That was inconsiderate and unneighborly of her.
Maybe she had been entirely too hard on the man, she thought as she shoveled more dirt. It wasn’t Devlin’s fault that his good looks and muscular physique reminded her of her ex-fiancé and that she had transferred her frustration to the cowboy.
That was not the mature approach, she told herself. How many times had Jessica advised Teresa not to compare her abusive ex-husband to the men she met in Buzzard’s Grove? More times than she cared to count, Jessica realized. Teresa had begun to put her painful past behind her and had developed a crush on Sheriff Osborn. Teresa was getting on with her life. Eight months after her humiliating relationship with Rex, Jessica was still afraid to trust a man.
“You aren’t being fair,” Jessica said to herself.
Mother Goose honked as if in agreement, then fluttered into the pond to take an evening swim.
While water trickled through the V Jessica dug in the dam, she carted rocks up the steep incline to insure future rains didn’t erode her waterway and empty her pond. Smiling, Jessica watched the pair of coyotes and their pups, the red foxes and a trio of horses drink from the pond. It was gratifying to see that the animals had learned to coexist in this sanctuary.
So why couldn’t she get along with Devlin Callahan?
Recalling the sheriff’s request to resolve her differences with Devlin, Jessica vowed to make an effort to be civil.
While she made her rounds to feed the exotics housed in covered pens and cages, she reminded herself that she needed to mow and clean up around the sanctuary this weekend. The local grade school students would be arriving for their field trip. Since Jessica’s sanctuary was listed on the association’s register, she had received several calls to schedule field trips. The money would help to defray costs for more pens and feed. Her exotic family would continue to grow as long as she had space.
Weary from digging the trench in the parched earth, Jessica trudged to the house to bathe. Partially revived, she opened the freezer to select a microwave dinner.
She had considered swinging by the new restaurant at the end of Main Street to pick up a carry-out meal, but she had been late getting away from the office, and she had to feed her animals before dark.
Ah well, Jessica didn’t consider herself Suzie Homemaker, and she wasn’t one of those people who lived to eat; she simply ate to live. But every once in a while she craved a thick, juicy steak, home-cooked vegetables and dessert. It wasn’t that she couldn’t cook, it was just that she didn’t have much time, what with getting her business off the ground, tending the exotics and doing minor refurbishing projects inside the house.
A faint smile twitched her lips as she recalled her shaky start in life, her difficult teens and her struggle to acquire a college education. The kid no one wanted—least of all her irresponsible, pleasure-seeking parents—had made something of herself. In fact, she could be living off the interest on the money she made when she sold the hot property in Tulsa. But Jessica didn’t want to be a recluse on her sanctuary. She secretly longed to fit in, to feel a connection, to be accepted and respected in Buzzard’s Grove.
So far so good—except for her feud with Devlin Callahan. He was the thorn in her paw, and Sheriff Osborn had all but ordered her to make nice to that hot-tempered rancher.
Okay, fine, she would apologize for biting off Devlin’s head and insulting him. She could be nice to the man if she really tried. She could also move the big cats’ and bears’ cages farther west to the clump of cottonwood trees, so the overhanging limbs would trap the sounds. Yeah, she could do that this weekend, if she put in double days. The pens were built on skids so she could hook a chain to her car bumper and pull them to different locations.
Jessica sighed drowsily as she lay sprawled on the sofa. Man, it had been a long week, and it wasn’t over yet. She could use some shut-eye so she would have the energy to tackle the list of weekend chores.
She nodded off, only to bolt straight up on the sofa when blaring country music rattled the window-panes. Garth Brooks was singing “Ain’t Goin’ Down Till the Sun Comes Up,” and the coyotes and wolves were howling to beat the band.
“What in blue blazes?” Jessica staggered to her feet and wobbled unsteadily to the window. Darkness had settled over the rolling Oklahoma hills. She could barely make out the glow of miniature red lights just beyond the barbed wire fence that separated her property from Rocking C Ranch.
It only took a moment to realize Devlin had rigged up his stereo system to counter the sounds of her exotic animals. Swearing, Jessica made a beeline for the back door to determine how her animals were reacting to the earsplitting music. Sure enough, the animals were pacing in their cages. Toucans and cockatoos were flinging themselves against the wire pens in an attempt to escape. The horses were thundering across the pasture to seek refuge in the trees.
Muttering, Jessica snatched up the phone book, then quickly dialed the number for Rocking C Ranch. Impatiently, she waited for Devil Devlin to answer.
“Hello,” came a thick, velvety voice that oozed sensuality. Jessica refused to be affected by that seductive voice, because she knew what a jackass the man was.
“Devlin Callahan, I—”
“Hold on a sec.”
A moment later the same voice was back, but Jessica ignored the unwilling tingle that slid through her body. She was mad as a wet hen and she wasn’t about to let this man bedevil her with his sexy bedroom voice. Plus, there was no telling who was in the bedroom with him when she interrupted and was forced to wait for him to finish whatever it was he was doing.
“Callahan, this is Porter,” she snapped. “Get your fanny over here and pull the plug on the blaring music. Now!”
“Sorry, darlin’,” he drawled, “but I’m just too tired to get out of bed. I was up at the crack of dawn rounding up cattle.”
“Tough,” she spluttered angrily. “Your loud music is terrifying my animals!”
“Now they know how my cattle and sheep feel,” he said unsympathetically.
“Look, Callahan, I’ll have you know I spent the evening digging a trench so your cattle would have water. Now I’m exhausted and I need sleep.”
“Thanks, that’s mighty neighborly of you, Porter. Wish you’d done that a couple of months ago so I didn’t have to haul water to my thirsty livestock.”
“I would have if you had said something,” she replied. “I wasn’t aware that I was causing a problem.”
“Gee, and I suppose it also escaped your notice that your zoo has been terrifying my livestock, that the cattle you saw grazing the ditches on your way to work this morning were supposed to be in the pasture. Do you know what happens when a motorist slams into a cow, Blondie? Not only does said cow wind up in the deep freeze, but I lose the cow, and her calf dies of starvation. Then I have to shell out money to replenish my herd, not to mention the potential threat of a lawsuit over personal injury.”
“Well, I—” Jessica couldn’t get another word in edgewise, because Devlin was still running off at the mouth.
“But I suppose you’re so wrapped up in yourself and your wildlife preservation crusade that you never stopped to think how it affects your nearest neighbor. Did you think of that? Hmm? No? I didn’t think so.
“As for the honky-tonk music, Porter, my cattle like it dandy fine. It drowns out the racket at your place. If some of your exotics break loose and run scared, be sure to call me. I’ll bring my stun gun and zap them for you.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t put it past you to use live ammo. You’re a world-class jerk, Callahan, know that? And here I had convinced myself that I had been too hard on you. I even planned to take pity—”
“Hey, lady, the last thing I want from you is pity,” he said huffily.
“Take what you can get.”
“If I could get you to pack up and leave I’d be the happiest man on the face of the planet. This was a peaceful place to work and live until you and your jungle animals showed up.”
“That’s it, Callahan! Now you’ve really infuriated me!” Jessica exploded in bad temper.
“So, what are you gonna do about it, sugar? Come over here and beat the tar out of me?” he goaded her unmercifully.
“No, I’m calling the sheriff, and he can fine you for disturbing the peace!” she yelled at him.
“The sheriff refuses to get involved. I know because I asked him to fine you for disturbing my peace. We’ll have to work this out by ourselves. But not to worry, Blondie. Give the country music a week, and I’m sure you and your exotics will be as fond of it as my cattle and sheep are.”
Before Jessica could give him an earful of her frustration he hung up on her. She stared at the receiver in outrage. She hated for that devilish cowboy to have the last word. But she supposed he thought it was fitting, since she had shut the door in his face the previous night.
Jessica slammed down the phone, stormed upstairs to her bedroom, undressed, then buried herself beneath the quilts and clamped pillows over her ears. It didn’t help. She could hear Allan Jackson belting out the words to “Don’t Rock the Jukebox.” The drumbeat thumped the windowpanes until Jessica was ready to scream in frustration.
“Damn the man!” she shouted to the world at large.
“YOU DID WHAT?” Derrick hooted in disbelief.
“You heard me,” Devlin said over his breakfast of cold cereal and orange juice. “I hooked up the stereo and drowned out the uproar caused by those exotic animals.”
Derrick tossed him a withering glance. “This is your idea of a compromise?”
“I didn’t get anywhere with the sheriff,” Devlin grumbled. “Porter charmed him to such extremes that Reed thinks she’s God’s gift to humanity. But Reed did convince Porter to cut her pond dam so we don’t have to haul water. She dug the trench last night.”
“So, to repay her, you hooked up a boom box and blew out her eardrums.”
Devlin shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Well, how was I to know she was going to dig the trench until after the fact?”
Derrick slammed his fist on the table. Silverware and bowls bounced like Mexican jumping beans. “This is juvenile, Dev. You’re going to turn this into a grudge contest if you aren’t careful. I insist that you go over there tonight and do your damnedest to make amends. If Jessica is as community-minded and financially generous as the sheriff says, then you’re the one who is going to come off looking like a jerk…which reflects on me, because folks might think I’m a party to this nonsense, which I’m sure as hell not.”
Devlin glowered at his identical twin. “Are you going to sit here and tell me that you don’t mind chasing down cattle every other day?”
“Of course not, but I’ll fix fences if that’s what it takes to keep peace. I prefer to focus my free time on Cassie Dixon. She, being a woman and all, is sure to side with Jessica in this feud.” Derrick stared placatingly at his brother. “Please, Dev, bury the hatchet. Ask the woman out and get to know her before you pass judgment. Find out why she is caught up in this crusade, make her understand that the cattle and sheep are our livelihood and that ranchers are facing tough times. Try to become the great guy you were before Sandi Saxon screwed you over for that high-rolling lawyer and moved to Oklahoma City. Stop being so cautious and defensive when it comes to women.”
Having said his piece, Derrick rose to set his bowl and glass in the sink. “I’m going to change the oil and replace the hydraulic hoses on both tractors this morning while you clean out the drills and auger seed wheat into the trucks.” Derrick glanced out the window. “There are a few clouds piling up on the horizon, so maybe we’ll finally get some rain before we plant wheat.”
“It’d be nice if something went right,” Devlin muttered.
“Oh, before I forget, I won’t be here to cook supper tonight. Cassie invited me to her restaurant to eat with her. You’re on your own, bro.”
When Derrick strode off, Devlin hunched over the table, mulling over his brother’s criticism of the neighbor situation. Truth be known, Devlin enjoyed sparring with his feisty neighbor. She was quickwitted and sassy, and she amused him in a frustrated sort of way. Furthermore, he kind of liked the fact that she stood up to him.
As for setting up the boom box, it had seemed the perfect solution to muffle the unnerving noises. The tactic had made Jessica realize what Devlin and his cattle herd had been tolerating. But as it turned out, Porter had worn herself out trenching her pond dam—to be neighborly—and Devlin had kept her up most of the night with loud music. Damn, everything he tried to do in his dealings with Jessica kept backfiring on him.
Okay, so maybe it was time to try a different tack, bury the hatchet somewhere besides in Porter’s back. Devlin could do nice and gentlemanly if the mood suited him. And okay, so he did have a tendency to project Sandi Saxon’s failings on other women after she’d trampled his male pride into the ground. The experience had disillusioned and soured him on women, and he remained on guard to prevent getting hurt again.
One thing about playing nice with Jessica Porter, though, it would just be an act, a performance to form a truce. He already knew what Jessica was like when the thermometer attached to her temper shot through the roof. The woman was prickly, defensive and high-strung, which made it tough for Devlin, who was a little prickly, defensive and high-strung himself.
Well, he would consider this a test of his temper, patience and disposition, he told himself. This was a challenge. If he could deal with the dragon lady and get her to eat out of his hand, then he should be able to handle any woman.
Derrick was right, he mused. Devlin had allowed his disillusionment with Sandi to destroy potential relationships. But past was past. Sandi was a closed chapter in his life.
Resolved to negotiating a truce, Devlin crammed his bowl and glass in the dishwasher, then strode outside to tackle the chores that awaited him. After supper he’d get spruced up and drive over to the dragon…er, Miz Porter’s place. He’d dust off the manners he hadn’t used in a few years and do a little damage control.
The woman wouldn’t stand a chance when he turned on the charm, he tried to convince himself. He’d be so suave, debonair, gallant and courteous that the dragon…er, Miz Porter would forget why she was upset with him.
3
JESSICA WAS SO TIRED by the time she returned home from work that she had trouble putting one foot in front of the other. Thanks to Devil Devlin’s prank that caused sleep deprivation she had dozed off at her office and awakened to find a debit and expenditure form stuck to her face. If her secretary hadn’t volunteered to stay late to type up the tax sheets and drop them in the mail, Jessica couldn’t have gotten the federal forms and payroll checks completed on time. Teresa, devoted employee that she was, shooed Jessica from the office, insisting that she go home and get some rest.
That was precisely what Jessica planned to do—after tending her animals and mowing a few rounds on the riding mower. One glance at the ominous sky indicated a soggy weekend ahead. The TV meteorologists were forecasting a break in the drought that would undoubtedly test the strength of the trench Jessica dug in her pond dam.
Halfheartedly, Jessica made the rounds to feed her animals. As usual, Mother Goose followed like a shadow. After fueling the mower, Jessica shoved the machine into high gear. It was nearly dark before she found time to sit down, prop up her feet and nibble on the dinner she had nuked in the microwave oven.
A firm rap resounded at the door. Frowning curiously, Jessica set aside her plastic plate. She opened the door to see Devlin Callahan decked out in a starched and pressed Western shirt, trim-fitting blue jeans and polished boots. Her jaw dropped to her chest, and she stood there gaping at him like a tongue-tied idiot.
Good gracious, no man—especially not this man—had a right to look so devastatingly attractive. When he flashed her a knock-you-to-your-knees smile that generated enough wattage to see her through a blizzard, an unwilling jolt of attraction zapped her. In one tanned hand, which was devoid of jewelry, Devlin held a bouquet of roses.
Roses for her? Couldn’t be. The man hated her, she was sure of it.
Jessica was not mentally, physically or emotionally prepared to confront this handsome rascal. She was too exhausted to go another round with him, most especially when he looked like every woman’s secret dream standing there on her front porch. This man redefined the words dangerous and tempting, but Jessica had made a pact to play it safe. She wanted no part of him.
“I brought the roses for—” he began.
Jessica did the only thing she could possibly do to prevent being overwhelmed by the devil’s own temptation, who had caught her off guard while she looked and felt her absolute worst.
She shut the door in his face.
The roses he had extended to her got caught inside the doorjamb, and the door snipped off their delicate heads in one vicious whack. Jessica glanced at the decapitated flowers that lay on her grungy barnyard boots, then took quick inventory of her attire. Gawd, she looked like an abandoned orphan in her jungle-print T-shirt and holey jeans that were tucked in the tops of her boots. Her off-center ponytail dangled in tangles on one side of her head. The long strands were snagged with twigs and coated with grass clippings. There wasn’t a speck of makeup on her face to conceal the circles under her eyes. In short, she was a pitiful mess, and he, damn him, looked scrumptious enough to eat.
Well, she had blown any chance of reconciliation, even if now was the time for one—which it wasn’t, not when she didn’t look presentable or feel mentally alert.
Frustrated, exasperated by her purely feminine reaction to a man she wanted very much to dislike, Jessica marched across the room to plop down on the sofa, hoping Devlin would give up and go away.
DEVLIN STARED at the stems in his hand and willed himself not to lose his temper. He managed a grin, recalling Jessica’s disheveled appearance and stunned expression. She didn’t remotely resemble the sophisticated professional woman he had encountered earlier in the week. He approved of Jessica’s looks when she was all mussed up like a hardworking farmhand. She appeared more approachable.
With that image firmly etched in his mind, Devlin rapped on the door. “Porter, I came by to ask you out to dinner,” he called politely.
“I already ate,” she called back.
“Well, then, how about tomorrow night?”
“Not interested,” she hollered.
Hoo-kay, this wasn’t going well, thought Devlin. Now what?
Tired of talking to the door, Devlin stepped carefully into the flower bed and tapped on the living room window. He could see Jessica sitting rigidly on her leather sofa, staring at the far wall.
“So how about going to the ice cream social with me Sunday evening?” he asked politely.
She turned briefly to glance in his direction, then faced forward again. “I’d rather eat gravel, but thanks so much for asking. Just go away.”
When she bounded to her feet and headed toward the kitchen holding what looked to be a plastic food container, Devlin scurried around the house…and came face to beak with the guard goose, which quacked an objection to his presence.
“Well, tough,” Devlin muttered as he veered around the feathered obstacle.
Devlin leaned close to the kitchen window to gain Jessica’s attention. He had girded himself to be nice to this woman and, by damned, he wasn’t leaving until she agreed to speak to him in a civil, rational, mature manner.
When Jessica saw him standing there, she gasped in surprise and clutched her chest as if her heart was about to pop out.
Before she could yell at him, he turned up the voltage on his smile and asked, “Okay, so how about if we take in a movie Saturday night?”
She glared at him even as she backed away from the window. “I’d have more fun dating a corpse,” she said before she pivoted and stalked off.
Struggling for hard-won composure, resolved not to drop the reins on his temper, Devlin watched Jessica veer toward the staircase. He glanced at the rickety lattice and second-story balcony and decided to go for it. Never let his brother say that Devlin hadn’t done all within his power to make amends with the dragon lady.
Tossing aside the rose stems, Dev stepped upon the supporting beam of the trellis, then hauled himself to the roof. He grabbed the base of the balcony railing to hoist himself upright, stepped over to the warped door, then rapped lightly on it.
Jessica shrieked in alarm. “Are you trying to spy on me while I’m undressing to take a bath, you pervert?” she asked huffily. “Be warned. Sheriff Osborn is definitely going to hear about this!”
“Calm down a minute, Blondie,” he called before she made a grab for the phone. “I’m only trying to be neighborly and make amends for my prank. Only it wasn’t exactly a prank, because I was trying to muffle the jungle sounds so my cattle wouldn’t bolt and run again. And thank you for trenching your pond dam. My brother and I sincerely appreciate it.” He tried out another charming smile. “If you’ll only let me come in so we can sit down and work out our differences—”
“No,” she interrupted.
Devlin noted Jessica was a decisive kind of person. She didn’t take time to consider his offer, just cut him off with an unequivocal no. He, however, wasn’t leaving until they negotiated some kind of truce.
“I want to talk to you, Porter. You might as well accept the fact that you aren’t getting rid of me easily.”
“Then I’m calling the cops, Peeping Tom!” she threatened loudly.
When he saw her lunge for the phone, Devlin tried to open the door. Unfortunately, his foot went through a rotted board on the balcony, and he staggered to regain his balance. He howled in alarm when the rickety railing gave way behind him.
Devlin cartwheeled across the sloped roof, clawing desperately for a handhold—and found none. When he took a header off the roof, he attempted to twist in midair so he could draw his legs beneath him.
Waste of time. The crape myrtle shrub that shaded the back porch came at him at alarming speed.
“Argh!” He landed spread-eagle in the bush, ripping a hole in the elbow of his brand-spanking-new shirt. Swearing and thrashing, he tried to dislodge himself from the shrub.
“Are you all right?”
Devlin twisted sideways to see Jessica standing on the broken balcony, staring at him with a mixture of amusement and concern. When she broke into a full-fledged smile, the frustration seeped right out of him. Damn, she had an engaging smile that affected every feature on her bewitching face.
He lay there, dazzled by the effect of her smile, wishing something besides his clumsiness was the cause of it. Despite his embarrassing position in the shrub, he grinned at her, hoping to assure her that he was capable of laughing at his own foolishness.
For a few moments their gazes locked and they smiled easily at each other.
Then, to his complete bemusement, her expression closed, her back stiffened and she stepped away from the broken railing.
“I’d like you to leave, Callahan. I want to take a bath without being spied on. I want to go to bed so I can get some rest.”
Devlin suddenly wanted to go to bed himself, but getting some rest was far down on his list—after seeing his neighbor in a totally different light. Damn, he couldn’t believe how quickly desire had hit him. Came right out of nowhere and nailed him the instant her face lit up in a dazzling smile. His perception of her changed in a heartbeat.
“I hope I can count on you not to serenade me and my exotic animals with that hillbilly music tonight. I don’t think I can go another night without sleep.”
Having said that, she wheeled like a soldier on parade and marched into the house. He heard the door slam shut behind her. Whatever ground Devlin thought he’d gained for that split second out of time was lost forever.
Cursing the temperamental woman and his attraction—which was apparently one-sided and a total waste of time—Devlin squirmed out of the shrubbery, dusted himself off, then panned the area to see that dozens of pens and cages, shaded by groves of trees, sat a hundred yards from the house. When the goose honked at him, the caged animals struck up their usual racket.
“To hell with this,” Devlin grumbled as he limped around the house to return to his truck. “The ball is in her court now. I tried my best to call a truce.”
Propelled by self-righteous irritation, Devlin hopped in his truck and sped off, then remembered that he hadn’t unplugged the extension cord. He stamped on the brake, whipped around and backed into the driveway beside the pasture gate. Within five minutes he had disconnected the extension cord from the outdoor outlet on the electric pole, packed up the stereo and headed home.
He had tried the direct, confrontational approach, then the charming, tactful approach with Porter. The only option left was to beg forgiveness. But Devlin had vowed seven years ago that he wouldn’t beg a woman for anything, not after Sandi had hurt and embarrassed him and left him to deal with smalltown gossip while she sauntered off to the big city on the arm of her new lover. As for Jessica Porter, she could sit on her forty acres and rot, for all he cared—as long as she did it quietly!
JESSICA SCRUBBED her hands over her face and cursed herself soundly for freezing up the moment Callahan had flashed her an honest-to-goodness smile. It had made her protective armor crack wide open and her heart slam against her ribs—and stick there. Even worse, her reaction to him inspired dangerously reckless and tempting feelings. Being hurt and humiliated in the past, Jessica was wary of men, and she had a tendency to back off the instant her hardened resolve began to soften up.
Reluctantly, Jessica smiled at the image of Devlin sprawled in the shrubs. She had to admit that his smile hadn’t seemed predatory, manipulative or cajoling. He’d seemed natural, willing to admit that he’d looked pretty silly. It was at that precise moment, when Devlin had looked his most vulnerable and human, that he became devastatingly attractive to her. In that instant she had liked him, liked the looks of him, reacted to his boyish grin.
That was also the precise moment when Jessica felt most vulnerable, feared that a disaster was waiting to happen. Given her history with Rex, she knew she had a weakness for rugged, athletic men. She thought she had known Rex well enough to trust him, but she had been wrong. Humiliatingly, mortifyingly wrong. She knew even less about Callahan, except that he was persistent, that he could laugh at himself, that he didn’t always take himself so seriously.
Yet Jessica suspected that Devlin had come by to kiss up to her, making an effort to mend fences. The fact that he probably had to put forth an effort made her leery—and yes, a little disappointed that it was such a chore for him to be nice to her. She couldn’t afford to feel anything, especially not fierce sexual attraction to a man who wasn’t totally honest and sincere.
Jessica inhaled a steadying breath and discarded all thoughts of the handsome cowboy. She had a weekend jam-packed with strenuous work and she desperately needed rest.
Jessica peeled off her clothes on the way to the bath and sank into the steamy water, letting her mind drift where it would. Her eyes popped open when Devlin’s smiling face materialized out of nowhere. She banished his image and scrubbed herself squeaky clean.
Wrapped in an oversize towel, Jess padded to her bedroom and plunked on the bed. She fell asleep while mentally listing the chores that needed her attention this weekend…and she was too far gone to banish that cowboy’s smiling image when he followed her into forbidden dreams.
THUNDER RUMBLED overhead as Jessica sped down the gravel road toward home. After mowing five acres of weeds and brush, she had changed into her business suit and made a hurried trip into town to restock microwavable meals. She had yet to hook the chain to her car and move the big cat cages farther west. If she didn’t complete the task quickly, she predicted she’d be mired in mud and forced to ask her nearest neighbor to pull her out.
As if he’d lift a hand to help, she mused as she watched lightning spike from the low-hanging clouds. Last night had pretty much nixed her chances of a civilized friendship with Devlin. In spite of that, Jess detoured by his ranch to apologize for dismissing him so rudely and to insure Devlin hadn’t suffered serious injury in his fall into the shrubbery. He hadn’t been home to hear the polite apology she had rehearsed.
Thunder rumbled again, and huge raindrops pelted the windshield. Jessica increased her speed, hoping to outrun the storm so she could feed her animals before the sky opened up.
A half mile from home the rear tire blew out. Jessica gripped the wheel to steer toward the side of the road. “Great, just great,” she muttered, then glanced at her royal blue silk suit, matching pumps and panty hose. “What are the chances of changing the tire without ruining this suit?”
Scowling at her damnable luck, Jess climbed from the car, then opened the trunk. Fat raindrops splattered on her back and hips as she bent to rummage in the trunk for the jack and doughnut tire. By the time she wrestled the tire from the trunk she had grime stuck to her jacket and skirt.
Hunkering down, Jess groaned and strained to work the lug nuts loose with the tire tool, but the darn things wouldn’t budge. Bracing her feet, she tried to apply more muscle, but the tire tool slipped sideways, causing her to trip over large chunks of gravel.
“Ouch! Damn!” Jessica hissed in pain when her ankle landed at an unnatural angle. She stared at her skinned knees and shredded panty hose, then glowered at the offensive tire tool.
Pushing upright, Jessica tested her injured ankle. Minor damage, she diagnosed as she hobbled over to retrieve the tire tool and try again. Rain came down in torrents as she squatted to battle the lug nuts.
It was a waste of time.
Hope rose within her when she heard a vehicle approaching, but Jessica cursed colorfully when she recognized Devlin Callahan’s pickup. He rolled down the window to give her the once-over, taking in her soggy silk suit, muddy blue pumps and wet blond hair that drooped around her face like a stringy mop.
“Having trouble, Blondie?” he asked around the wry smile that twitched his lips.
“No, I’m doing this for practice,” she snapped, certain he was silently laughing—at her expense.
NOTHING was more gratifying for Devlin, after last night’s fiasco in the shrubbery, than seeing Jessica doused with rain and mud, struggling in vain to change her tire. It was second nature for Devlin to lend a hand to a neighbor in times of need, but this wasn’t the usual, garden-variety neighbor. This was the infuriating female who refused to negotiate the terms of a truce over a peace-treaty dinner.
Fact was, Devlin wasn’t accustomed to being turned down flat, and his male pride was still smarting. If Porter wanted his assistance, then she could swallow her pride and ask for it.
“This is the drought buster I’ve been waiting for. Sure is wet out there, isn’t it, Blondie?” he commented conversationally.
“Brilliant, Einstein.” She threw the words over her shoulder as she stabbed the end of the tire tool at the lug nut. Devlin could have—should have—offered assistance, but he sat in his truck, watching her fumble with a task that she didn’t have the physical strength to accomplish. He kept waiting for her to ask for his help, but after she had rudely rejected his attempt at a truce he figured she had too much pride to request assistance, for fear Devlin would tell her to fix her own flat.
Teeth gritted, Jessica pushed up her sleeves, then grabbed the tire tool once more. She braced herself, favoring her tender ankle, then strained to loosen the lug nuts.
While Jessica battled the lug nuts, Devlin sat there, grudgingly admiring her determination. Few women of his acquaintance would tackle such a task. But Jessica was as independent as the American flag and fully capable of teaching stubborn to a mule. She also had a jalapeño-flavored temper—not unlike his own, which was why he and Jessica clashed at every turn.
Devlin chuckled to himself when Jessica, her patience worn threadbare, threw down the tire tool, then kicked the flat tire in frustration.
“That’ll help,” he called over the sound of pounding rain.
She lurched, steam practically rising from her soggy collar. “Oh, you…you—”
“Yes?” he prompted, grinning devilishly.
Jessica was so frustrated and furious that she couldn’t think of a suitably nasty name to hurl at him. Not that he could have heard her, because thunder boomed overhead.
Defeated, she whirled, deciding to hike home and return later to tackle the tire. She stalked off with more speed than dignity, then instantly regretted her tantrum. Her tender ankle gave way when the heel of her muddy pump spiked against an oversize chunk of gravel.
She skidded across the road, bumping her knees, hips and elbows, then wailed when hellish pain shot from her ankle. Jessica lay facedown on the road as rain hammered at her back. Near tears, she gritted her teeth against the pulsating throb that shot up her left leg to duel with the burning sensations in her kneecaps.
Despite all the trials and tribulations she had encountered and conquered, the triumph of rising above her lowly birth, she was reduced to wailing sobs. This was her reward, Jessica thought broodingly. She lay sprawled on a gravel road in the middle of the boondocks, pelted by rain. To compound her humiliation, the man whose opinion shouldn’t have mattered in the least—but did, damn it—had witnessed her defeat. He had every right to taunt and ridicule her, because she had gone out of her way to irritate him every chance she got.
So when Devlin pulled his pickup beside her, she expected him to tease her unmercifully, then go his merry way. To her surprise, he bounded from the truck and dashed through the pouring rain.
DEVLIN CURSED HIMSELF soundly as he swooped to scoop up Jessica. The moment he saw her ankle give way on the uneven gravel, saw her skid on her knees and elbows, he knew that he was personally responsible for her injuries. Damnation, why hadn’t he ignored his battered pride and replaced her blown-out tire before she lost patience and hiked off in the rain? If he hadn’t wasted time harassing her, Jessica’s ankle wouldn’t be swelling up like a balloon and she’d still have skin left on her knees and elbows.
Yep, no doubt about it, everything backfired in his dealings with Jessica Porter.
“I won’t waste time asking if you’re all right, because I can plainly see that you aren’t,” he said as he carried her to the passenger side of his truck. Carefully, he situated her on the seat. He grimaced when he saw watered-down blood dripping from her shins. “I’m sorry, Jess.”
She stared owlishly at him. “Why? I thought you’d enjoy this. I thought you hated me.”
“We obviously have our differences, Blondie, and your temper and obstinacy are an equal match for mine, but I swear that I never wanted to see you hurt.”
When he shut the door, then trotted around the truck to slide beneath the steering wheel, Jessica stared at him in amazement. She had seen concern glowing in the depths of those eyes that were as dark as a moonless night. He cared that her ankle hurt like hell blazing? He was sorry he hadn’t intervened before she injured herself?
Pain, frustration, temper and exhaustion combined to put tears in her eyes. Lordy, she hadn’t cried since she was a frightened kid who had been uprooted from one set of foster parents and passed along to another. She’d become tough, resilient…and she was on the verge of blubbering like a damn baby!
“Hurts, huh?” Devlin murmured as he shifted into drive, then started off. Involuntarily, he reached over to squeeze her fist, which was clenched in her soggy skirt. “Just hang on for a couple of minutes and I’ll have you inside your house. We’ll scrub the dirt from the skinned spots and ice down your ankle.”
“Th-thanks,” she said on a hitched breath.
Devlin flashed a cheery smile. “Hey, no problem. What are neighbors for? I’ll have you know I was selected as Good Samaritan of the Year twice. Got plaques to prove it, too.”
“Really?” Her voice crackled in attempt to bite back a shuddering sob.
“No, but if Buzzard’s Grove handed out such an award I’m pretty sure I would’ve won, being the swell guy I am and all.”
His attempt to cheer her up worked. Jessica smiled past the pain. “I should have asked for your help instead of trying to do the job myself,” she murmured awkwardly. “I guess I’m just accustomed to taking care of myself. After the way I treated you last night…” She drew a shaky breath, then met his warm, sympathetic gaze. “I’m sorry I decapitated the roses. That was a thoughtful gesture on your part, and I was inexcusably rude.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said dismissively. “I deserved to have the door slammed in my face a couple of times. I’m the one who holds the title for rude and obnoxious.”
“No, I do,” she contradicted, then sniffled.
“Since we both made lousy first impressions, how ’bout we start over?” Devlin suggested as he came to a stop in her driveway.
Jessica nodded and extended a skinned hand. “Deal. Hi, I’m Jessica Porter.”
He squeezed her fingertips gently and offered her a smile. “Devlin Callahan. My friends call me Dev. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Jessica wiped her eyes on her grimy sleeve, then waited for Devlin to climb down and stride around to her side of the truck. When he slid his arm beneath her knees and around her waist, Jessica objected to being carried inside. “I think I can manage on my own. The last thing I want is for you to hurt your back.”
“I’ve lifted hay bales heavier than you,” he insisted as he hoisted her easily into his arms. “I’m sure you can manage on your own, but why risk aggravating the injury?”
When he unintentionally bumped her ankle on the edge of the door, she shrieked abruptly and coiled against his chest. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I…”
His breath clogged in his throat when she cuddled against him and he saw a fresh batch of tears welling in those rain-forest eyes. Devlin swallowed uncomfortably, then cursed his all-male reaction to the feel of her supple body in his arms, the feel of her head pressed to his shoulder. The whisper of her breath stirred against his neck like a lover’s caress….
Whoa, boy, don’t go there, Devlin cautioned himself. The lady is injured, and it’s all your fault. This isn’t the time for an inflammation of testosterone.
“House key?” he squeaked, cursing the effect her nearness had on his voice—among other things.
Jessica reached into the purse slung over her shoulder and handed him the key. The symbolism of the gesture didn’t escape her, and she was a little uneasy about letting this man slip inside her defensive walls. “The door sticks when it rains, which hasn’t been very often,” she informed him. “You may have to nudge the door with your shoulder.”
Balancing Jessica against his thigh, he freed one hand to shove the key into the lock. The door didn’t budge when he turned the knob, so he rammed it with his boot heel. Once inside, he gently laid Jessica on the couch and elevated her foot on the armrest. He glanced around the expensively furnished room, noting all the landscape paintings that featured animals as the main subjects. The lady obviously had a soft spot for God’s four-legged creatures, he decided. He also noticed the modernized wall texture and fresh coat of paint. Although the old farmhouse looked battered on the outside, it was obvious that Jessica had been busy refurbishing the inside.
When he saw the complete set of how-to books and videos for home remodeling on the shelves, he glanced at her. New admiration for Jessica dawned when he realized that she had made the remodeling improvements herself. The lady wasn’t exaggerating when she said she was accustomed to taking care of things herself.
When he ambled into the kitchen to locate an improvised ice pack for Jessica’s swollen ankle, he noticed the shiny new oak cabinets and Formica counter. Yup, Jessica was surrounding herself with modern conveniences and luxuries. He was impressed by her good taste and her willingness to work. This old house was coming back to life, thanks to her improvements.
Devlin rummaged through the drawer to locate a plastic bag, then filled it with ice. “Here we go,” he said as he sailed into the living room. “I really like what you’ve done with the place.”
“Thanks.” Jessica grimaced when he placed the ice pack on her aching ankle. “I haven’t had time to refurbish the upstairs yet, because it’s taking a lot of time to get my accounting business established. I’m hoping to strip that atrocious wallpaper, then texture the walls in the bedrooms. I’m not too confident of my plumbing skills, so I’ll probably hire someone to redo the two bathrooms.”
“If you need help, my brother and I take on construction and carpentry projects when farming and ranching chores slow down in the winter.”
“You do?” Jessica peered at Devlin, startled by the various facets she had learned about the man in the course of an hour. She’d discovered that he had a dry sense of humor, that he could be gentle and compassionate and that he obviously didn’t hold a grudge, even if he was quick to temper.
“Yes, we do,” Devlin affirmed. “We remodeled those apartments on First Street two winters ago and replaced all the appliances.”
“That’s where my secretary lives,” Jessica said, shifting to a more comfortable position. “I’ve seen Teresa’s apartment. You do good work.”
“Thanks.” Devlin glanced over his shoulder. “If you’ll point me toward the bathroom I’ll get some antiseptic and bandages for your hands and knees. You might want to remove those shredded panty hose while I’m gone.”
Jessica looked at the mutilated stockings and smudged skirt. Lord, she looked like road kill. “Um…would you bring my robe from the upstairs bathroom? I’d like to get out of these wet clothes.”
“Coming right up.” Devlin climbed the stairs and entered the bathroom, noting the organized array of feminine upkeep. The room had yet to be remodeled. Jessica was going to have one hell of a time getting into the old cast-iron bathtub without putting pressure on her ankle. She needed a modernized shower.
In the medicine cabinet Devlin found the antiseptic and bandages. He glanced around to see the flimsy nylon robe that definitely wouldn’t be thick enough to conceal what he was sure was a curvaceous feminine figure.
Devlin clutched the robe and swallowed uneasily, then reminded himself that he was here in the capacity of a caregiver. That’s where his attentions were supposed to stop—and he better not forget that.
4
ON HIS RETURN TRIP down the hall Devlin spotted a handmade quilt at the end of the twin bed in a small bedroom. He scooped it up, then made his way downstairs to the living room.
“Okay, Jess, let’s doctor those knees….” Devlin stumbled to a halt and stared at about a mile of long, shapely bare legs.
Quickly, he shifted his attention to the alluring face that was surrounded by spring-loaded blond curls. Suddenly Jessica looked about fifteen years old—which made his lusty thoughts seem all the more inappropriate. He should not be feeling what he was feeling right now, shouldn’t be wanting what he was beginning to want quite desperately. Hell! He’d found Jess all too attractive when he didn’t like her. Now that he was warming to her, he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her.
“Dev? Is something wrong?” she asked when he stood there staring at her.
“Yeah, you could say that.” Devlin sank down on the edge of the couch, then opened the bottle of antiseptic. “You’re too damned attractive for me not to notice.” Before she got huffy, he rushed on. “Now don’t get mad at me the way you usually do, because there are some things in life that can’t be changed. A man’s instinctive reaction to a beautiful woman is one of them.”
When she lay there gaping at him as if he’d sprouted antlers, Devlin muttered under his breath. “Come on, Blondie, don’t look at me like you don’t know what a bombshell you are.” To conceal his discomfort about blurting out the comment—something he had a bad habit of doing—Devlin dabbed antiseptic on her knee.
“Geez!” Jessica wailed when the stinging sensations blazed across her kneecap. Her breath evaporated when Devlin bent forward to blow on the sting and inadvertently blew his warm breath on her thigh. She could feel the blush working its way up her chest and neck to stain her cheeks. When she glanced up to meet those onyx-colored eyes, her heart stalled out. She watched a rakish grin glide across his sensuous lips as he blew on her knees again. Chills of carnal delight rippled to her very core.
“Better?” he asked in a husky voice.
She frowned darkly. “Hardly, and you damn well know it.”
Devlin chuckled as he peeled open the wrapper on the bandages. “Okay, so that was a cheap trick to find out if you are half as aware of me as I am of you.”
“I’m aware, all right,” she admitted grudgingly. “I’m just lousy at being as direct as you are.”
“Yeah, well, my brother is all the time nagging me to be more tactful. We may bear a strong resemblance, but he’s the one with the charming diplomacy. At least he says he is. He’s never been all that diplomatic and charming around me.”
“I like direct,” she said softly. “At least I know where I stand.”
“Spoken like a woman who had a love affair that went south in a hurry,” he remarked.
Jessica jerked up her head. “And she doesn’t want to talk about it, so don’t ask.”
He shrugged those impossibly broad shoulders. His wet shirt accentuated rock-solid muscles and a washboard belly. Jessica tried exceptionally hard not to notice.
“That’s fine by me. I don’t want to talk about Sandi Saxon, the two-timing vamp who dumped me on her way up the social ladder so she could kick the dust of Buzzard’s Grove off her heels and land a sophisticated lawyer, either. It’s tough being left behind in a small town, hurt and humiliated, knowing your friends and acquaintances are discussing your personal disaster behind your back.”
“The woman must’ve been an absolute idiot.”
Devlin did a double take. “You don’t like me, yet you’re siding with me?”
It took a lot of gumption for Jessica to admit her feelings for him, since she had kept her emotions locked away most of her life. It was like sliding onto an operating table, prepped for open-heart surgery. Furthermore, she had learned not to let her affection show for fear it would be used against her.
“I like you fine, Callahan,” she said awkwardly. “That’s the problem. You happen to be devastatingly attractive, as if you don’t know. So was the ten-timing Don Juan who used my heart as a doormat. If I’ve been hard on you, don’t take it personally. It was unfair of me to transfer my disgust with Rex Cranfill to you.”
Devlin braced his arms on either side of her shoulders and leaned down to press his lips to hers in a light, butterfly kiss. But it wasn’t enough. Before he realized what he was doing he had deepened the kiss, plundered her mouth, as if he were starving to death for a taste of her—which he guessed he was and just refused to admit it to himself.
Sensations spiraled through him, giving him one hell of a head rush. He felt his arms contracting, pulling her closer. Devlin forced himself to back off and sit upright before he did something stupid, like running his hand down the column of her throat to cup the clinging fabric that covered her full breasts. Damn, this woman had an amazing, spontaneous effect on him. He’d gone from zero to hard-on in two seconds flat.
“All I have to say is that the guy you fell for must have been the world’s biggest idiot.” He made himself stand up and turn away before she noticed the bulge in the lower regions of his anatomy. “Peel off your wet clothes while I fix your flat tire. When I get back I’ll rustle up something for supper.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Devlin was pleased to note that her voice was as unsteady as his. Made him feel ten times better. “You’re right, Blondie, I don’t have to, but I want to. If I’d jumped out to fix your tire you wouldn’t have twisted your ankle.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” she insisted.
“No? Try telling that to my conscience,” he said before he walked into the rain, hoping it would cool him down.
THAT KISS was definitely a mistake of gigantic proportions, Devlin scolded himself as he shoved the pickup into reverse and backed from the driveway. Yup, that kiss was going to be right there between them when he returned. He probably should apologize, but he wasn’t sorry to discover that she tasted sweet and passionate and was so damn responsive that desire hit him between the eyes when she kissed him back.
Devlin shook his head and sighed, knowing he had become too direct, blunt and straightforward for his own good these past few years. The lessons he’d learned with Sandi Saxon were still controlling his life to some extent.
After that humiliating episode, he had made his intentions perfectly clear to the women who came and went from his life. Not that there had been many of them. He’d been chased on a regular basis, but he refused to get caught just because he was considered good marriage material. Truth was, it had been a long dry spell for Devlin, which was probably why he’d gone off like a ticking time bomb when he leaned down to kiss Jessica.
Nowadays, if he was attracted to a woman he said so. He also set limitations, because he’d had no intention of getting serious again. He wanted that understood up front.
His mind wandering in a dozen different directions, Devlin stepped into the rain to make short shrift of the tire that had given Jessica fits. Then he hooked up her car to a sturdy chain and towed it to her house.
Devlin glanced at his watch. Thirty minutes had passed, and he still wasn’t certain if he was ready to face Jessica again. But there was no postponing the inevitable, he told himself. He’d just play it cool. If she wanted to discuss that explosive, lip-sizzling kiss that rocked his world, then she could bring it up.
Devlin dashed through the downpour, then shouldered through the front door to see Jessica’s ruined business suit piled on the coffee table. Thank goodness she had covered herself up with the handcrafted quilt. He didn’t need to see her in that skimpy pink robe, because his imagination was already doing a number on him.
“Your flat is fixed, but you’ll need a new tire,” he said, striving for a nonchalant tone. “Anything else I can do for you before I fix supper?”
“Well, yes, but I doubt you’ll want to do it,” she murmured, then glanced quickly away.
Yup, she was definitely uncomfortable about that impulsive kiss he’d laid on her without warning. “Your wish is my command, Blondie.” Yeah, that’s it, Callahan. Keep things light and impersonal, and maybe you both can relax.
“My animals haven’t been fed,” she announced.
Devlin smacked himself on the forehead with the heel of his hand. “Damn, did I ever walk right into that. Now I have to feed the nuisances that started this feud between us.”
Jessica grinned, but she couldn’t maintain eye contact for more than a couple of seconds. He figured she felt as awkward as he did after that impulsive, electrifying kiss.
“Don’tcha just love the irony of this, Callahan?” she asked.
Good girl, Blondie, keep it light and we’ll get past this awkward moment, he mused. “Yeah, and when I get eaten by a bear you can tend my wimpy cattle herd. I’d probably appreciate the irony of that even more.”
“I’m really sorry about the extra work and all the trouble my animals caused,” Jessica apologized. She stared at the air over his left shoulder. “I realize we have a problem, and I tried to solve it by moving some of the cages farther west. But since it’s raining, and I can’t walk, it will be a while before I can move the loud-mouth animals away from your fence.”
“I appreciate your effort. Now where’s the feed and who gets how much of what?”
Jessica grabbed a pen and notepad off the coffee table, then made a list of the rations for her exotic animals.
“Criminey, your feed bill must be staggering,” Devlin said when she kept writing and writing.
“The association picks up part of the tab, but the rest comes out of my pocket. Not that I mind. The animals are my hobby, and they have become like family to me.”
“A husband might be cheaper,” he retorted.
Jessica picked up her credit-card bill and thrust the invoice at him. “Think so? My ex-fiancé sneaked a peek in my wallet and jotted down the account number and charged a cruise for two to my tab. He was clever about spending my money more often than his after we started dating.” She gave herself a self-deprecating smirk. “Being a number cruncher by profession, you’d have thought I’d notice. Go figure.”
“A fine pair we make,” Devlin said, then snorted. “Your ex-fiancé wanted to get his hands on your money and my ex-fiancée didn’t think I could make enough of the green stuff to keep her in the manner to which she aspired. If I ever find myself on the verge of what feels like love, money sure as hell isn’t going to enter into the equation. If the lady doesn’t love me for who and what I am, doesn’t approve of the same things I stand for, and against, doesn’t return my loyalty, then I want no part of it.”
“Same goes for me,” Jessica quickly affirmed. “I hated playing the fool.”
“There, you see? Despite our conflicts we have something in common. We both got tripped up once in our search for the real thing. And, Jessica, about that—” Devlin slammed his mouth shut and nearly clipped off his tongue. He had promised himself that he wasn’t going to bring up that kiss, which had an impact equivalent to the detonation of a heat-seeking missile. “About that list of which animals get what,” he finished.
She handed the list to him, and he breathed a thankful sigh that he hadn’t crammed both feet in his mouth.
“If you want an umbrella, there’s one on the back porch,” Jessica informed him.
“Naw, I can’t imagine how I could get wetter than I already am,” he said as he made a beeline for the back door.
JESSICA SCRUNCHED sideways on the couch, then winced when agonizing pain shot up her leg. This twisted ankle was going to be a major inconvenience.
And speaking of inconvenience, that kiss had hit her with the force of a nuclear bomb—which was very untimely, because she had vowed not to let herself become interested in a man for at least half a decade. Time enough to learn to control her defensive mechanisms, which locked into place when she found herself the slightest bit attracted to a man. Plus, she didn’t have time to devote to a meaningful relationship or to get to know a man. The accounting business was hectic several months of the year. And there were always chores and repairs that needed her attention on the farm. When could she possibly fit in time for a man?
Better yet, Porter, answer this question. Despite all your excuses, how are you going to ignore the effects that impromptu kiss had on you? Hmm? Devlin Callahan may be quick-tempered, stubborn and opinionated, but he blew your mind with that searing kiss. Wanna deny it? Go ahead, turn yourself into a pathological liar. Then try to tell yourself that you haven’t learned more about Devlin Callahan in a week than you knew about that devious, underhanded baseball jock after six months.
“Okay, so Dev is nothing like Rex,” she admitted to herself. “Yes, he’s drop-dead handsome, but he also has substance.”
Indeed he did, Jessica acknowledged. Although Devlin could be mischievous, he was honest, sincere and hardworking, and he had dealt with humiliation and rejection and survived a broken heart. He was also reliable. Why, at this moment he was outside feeding the animals he wanted packed up and gone. He was willing to do the chores Jessica was physically unable to do. That said something about his personality and character, something Jessica couldn’t ignore and greatly admired.
Yet there was still a niggling little voice inside her that warned her to be cautious. Despite what Devlin said, he might very well be charming her into relocating her sanctuary. At present, she suspected he was operating on guilt because he held himself personally accountable for her twisted ankle.
Did she dare let her guard down completely and retest her reaction to his mind-boggling kiss?
After several minutes of concentrated deliberation Jessica decided to give Devlin the benefit of the doubt. She wouldn’t purposely antagonize him to protect herself. She’d stick her neck out a bit, test the waters, let him get to know the real Jessica Porter.
Yeah, she could do that, ease from her protective shell an inch at a time. Besides, she kinda liked the way he fussed over her, tended to her while she was injured. It had been a long time—as in never—since Jessica had felt protected, cared about. Though it might feel awkward and unnatural for her, she would allow Devlin to help her in her time of need. She would be gracious and appreciative—without constantly probing for hidden motives.
Smiling, Jessica snuggled beneath the quilt and closed her eyes to catch a few z’s. Devlin was here, and he was taking care of things. She could relax for a few minutes and catch up on lost sleep.
WITH A BUCKET of feed in each hand, Devlin hiked toward the first of dozens of pens and cages that sat a hundred yards from the house. The rain had let up, but lightning still flickered in the distance, indicating the drought-breaking storm approaching from the northwest had yet to vent its full fury. Devlin drew in a deep breath of rain-scented air and sent a prayer heavenward, thanking the man upstairs for the relief needed to bring life back to the pasture grasses and provide the needed moisture for planting crops. Mother Nature hadn’t been kind to farmers and ranchers the past two years. It had been a struggle to provide forage for his livestock….
His thoughts trailed off and he halted abruptly when a growl erupted from the shadowy cage in front of him. Devlin stared uneasily at the brown bear that paced its narrow confines. Then Devlin noticed the animal was missing the bottom half of a front leg. The crippled bear sniffed the air, testing Devlin’s scent, then growled threateningly.
“Okay, buddy, so I don’t smell like Jess, but I’m bringing the grub tonight, so don’t bite the hand that feeds you.” Cautiously, Devlin opened the trap door to fill the food tray. The bear, which Jess had named Winnie the Pooh, stared him down for a full minute before hobbling over to sample the vittles.
Devlin repeated the process at the second bear cage, noting that the animal called Teddy had a handicap like Winnie’s. On and on he went, making the rounds, feeding the lame and declawed animals Jessica had taken in. There were four battered cougars, three hobbling wolves, two foxes, a couple of bobcats, two jungle cats that stared at Devlin as if he was their meal of choice, three unusual-looking raccoons, an assortment of peacocks, a boar and a couple of species Devlin didn’t recognize. That wasn’t counting the aviary cage, which was built around dwarf apple trees and housed a slew of exotic birds.
As he made the rounds with Mother Goose at his heels, Devlin wondered what compelled Jessica to care for these animals. He understood why they couldn’t be returned to the wilds. Each animal had an imperfection that made it difficult to protect itself from predators or hunt for its own food.
Devlin was thoroughly annoyed with himself for not gathering all the facts about this unusual zoo before he’d gone off half-cocked and confronted Jessica. Maybe this zoo wasn’t his thing, but he respected Jessica’s efforts to care for and protect these animals.
Devlin was feeling exceptionally sympathetic toward the exotics until a llama strode past him, halted, then spit in his face. “Ungrateful jerk,” he muttered as he wiped his cheek on his shirtsleeve. “Expect to have your kibble poisoned tomorrow, pal.”
When thunder clamored and raindrops pattered against the leaves of the overhanging trees, Devlin sprinted to the barn to drop off the feed buckets, scattered seed for Mother Goose, then hightailed it to the house. Lightning popped and crackled as he leaped onto the back porch.
Devlin had spent enough years on horseback and on tractors, studying the weather, to know when a full-fledged thunderstorm was about to break loose. This, he predicted, was going to be a real toad strangler. His ranch was likely to go from drought to flood in the course of one night.
The instant he stepped into the kitchen his stomach growled, reminding him that it was long past suppertime. He veered toward the refrigerator to see what he could scrape together. To his amusement and distaste, he discovered the freezing unit was jam-packed with frozen dinners.
Devlin remembered those years when he and Derrick had burned out on packaged meals. They had made a pact several years ago to take turns cooking Monday through Thursday so they didn’t have to eat out constantly.
Devlin poked his head in the fridge to find a dozen eggs, bread, cheese and milk. While he was fixing breakfast for supper, he predicted his brother would be dining on a gourmet meal at Cassie’s restaurant. Maybe Dev should have made a play for the pretty restaurateur instead of granting his twin exclusive rights.
That was the thing about being a twin, Dev reminded himself. You had to check with your look-alike before showing any interest whatsoever in a female. That kind of sibling rivalry could get real tricky. Thus far, Devlin and Derrick had avoided potentially uncomfortable situations, but they had worked at it. Of course, that wasn’t counting that first-and-only fistfight over a cute little babe with pigtails when they were in the fifth grade.
With ingredients in hand, Devlin strode to the counter, then rummaged to find a skillet. Yeah, at this moment he could be sprawled in a padded booth, being fussed over by a wonderful cook and restaurant owner. But for some reason Devlin found himself more interested in the zookeeper who had come up lame herself.
That feisty blonde stirred something in Devlin that he couldn’t name. Although she was tough, prickly and defensive at times, he admired and respected independence in a woman. Heaven knew he’d been chased by enough clingy types to realize they couldn’t hold his interest.
Now that Devlin could step back and review his first two confrontations with Jessica, he could chuckle about the incidents where zinging insults flew like bullets. They set off fiery reactions in each other from the get-go. If that kiss was any indication, they could ignite explosive sparks of an entirely different nature—if they could put the bitterness from past relationships gone sour behind them.
Humming a country and western song, Devlin set to work on supper. The electricity flickered momentarily, but he managed to cook the eggs and toast before the storm came crashing down like gangbusters.
“Dinner is served,” he called as he carried two plates into the living room. When he saw Jessica stir beneath the quilt, her hair a mass of curlicues, his heart fluttered oddly. “Hey, sleepyhead, if I’m gonna wait on you foot and hand the least you can do is wake up and appreciate my efforts.”
Jessica blinked like a subterranean creature emerging from a tunnel. When she spied the food she tossed aside the quilt and reached eagerly for a plate. “You cooked?” she said drowsily. “This looks wonderful!”
Devlin inwardly groaned when the quilt fell away and he got an appetizing view of satiny cleavage exposed by that flimsy robe. The damn thing could be the death of him if he wasn’t careful where he looked.
“Lordy, real food,” she said after the first bite, then sighed in appreciation. “I haven’t had any in months.”
He hadn’t had any in months, either, but he didn’t figure Jessica was referring to the same thing.
Devlin forced himself to look the other way when Jessica propped herself on her elbow to balance the plate. The cursed robe gaped, partially exposing the creamy mounds of her breasts.
The lusty side of his nature silently begged her to lean a teensy-weensy bit to the left so he could admire all the appealing scenery.
The gentlemanly half of him strenuously objected.
Hell!
“Oh, God, this is fabulous,” Jessica complimented after taking a second bite of the omelette.
“Thanks. My brother and I alternate shifts in the kitchen. I’ve been at this cooking business for several years now. It was a real struggle after we lost our parents in a small plane crash. It’s a wonder we didn’t burn down the kitchen that first year.”
Jessica studied him pensively. “You took care of yourselves? How old were you?”
“Eighteen,” Devlin reported, then munched on his toast.
“No family or grandparents to take you in?”
Devlin shook his dark head. “There was a bachelor uncle in the armed forces who stopped in during furloughs, but Derrick and I were determined to keep the ranch going. We already had the necessary skills, but it took time to learn the financial end of the operation. We approached older, knowledgeable ranchers in the area for advice and managed to come through the crisis without losing the ranch. Then we took turns attending college every other semester so we could complete our education, just as our parents would have wanted. It took seven years, but we earned our agricultural degrees.”
He glanced quickly at Jessica, trying very hard not to dwell on the tempting swells nestled beneath that flimsy pink fabric.
Jessica shifted uneasily. She wasn’t in the habit of discussing her past with anyone, but she acknowledged that she felt more comfortable with Devlin than she had with anyone—ever. In fact, she had never confided much of anything to Rex, because the time never felt right and she never got the impression that he was all that interested in her past. Turned out his main interest in her was the money she made on her property.
“I don’t even know who my parents are,” she confessed. “I spent my childhood in one foster home or another. Then I ran away from an undesirable situation because the man who was supposed to be my substitute father began to take a slightly different interest in his role.”
Obviously, Devlin understood what she implied, because he muttered a foul oath that voiced her sentiments exactly. “If he laid a hand on you, I’ll look him up and tear the son of a bitch apart, limb from limb.”
The fact that he cared enough to defend her honor gave Jessica a warm, fuzzy feeling. “I appreciate the offer, but I saw it coming and skipped out. When I graduated high school I took a job as a waitress, then figured that if I wanted to get anywhere in this world I needed more education.”
Jessica relaxed when Devlin nodded and smiled. He wasn’t the least bit judgmental, thank goodness. Of course, she hadn’t gone into detail about living a hand-to-mouth existence, hadn’t mentioned the near misses with men who waited like vultures to take advantage of a vulnerable woman living on her own.
“Tough way to grow up, I expect,” he commented as he reached out to brush corkscrew curls behind her ear.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“Any time you feel like getting it off your chest, I’m willing to listen, Jess. I want you to know that.”
Head downcast, she fiddled with her robe. “Thanks.”
Having seen Jessica’s zoo of outcasts and hearing the boiled-down version of her life story, Devlin figured she was accustomed to keeping her own counsel. He knew she felt a close attachment to the stray animals who lived on her forty acres. He also suspected that she considered herself like them.
Feelings of tenderness and compassion for this woman overcame him. He understood why she thought it was necessary to put up that tough, keep-your-distance front. No doubt, that defensive attitude was essential in getting her through the unsung ordeals in her life. She had admitted that she was unaccustomed to being cared for. He also remembered what Reed Osborn said about Jessica taking in a young woman on the run from an abusive ex-husband, about the generous donations to youth groups and charities benefiting needy children.
Yup, there was definitely more to Jessica’s story, he realized. Incidents that made deep, lasting impressions structured her life and made her wary. His protective instincts stirred. He wished he could have been there to make her life easier, though his had been no fairy tale. But a young woman alone? No doubt, there had been dozens of pitfalls awaiting her, dozens of harrowing experiences that made her mistrusting and cautious.
“Where did you collect all your animals?” he asked as he reached for his glass of iced tea.
“Some were placed by the association,” she informed him. “Some were brought to me out of desperation. You wouldn’t believe how many people purchase exotic animals, thinking they can be domesticated. The jungle cats are especially cute kittens…until they grow up. Then people find a full-size African lion on their hands and don’t know what to do with it. It takes special training to care for those animals, and without intensive seminars, the average person is totally at a loss.”
“You’ve had training, I take it.”
Jessica nodded. Tangled curls bobbed around her face. “Yes. I’ve also been taught to look for signs of illness. The local vet stops by once a month to check the condition of my animals.”
“I’m impressed.”
Startled, she glanced up. “I thought you disapproved of my exotic misfits.”
Devlin shrugged. “I didn’t say I was all that crazy about ranching next door to your zoo, but I admire your dedication, especially after I saw, firsthand, the handicaps of your charges. I guess a declawed cougar with a crippled hind quarter wouldn’t fare well in the wilderness. Kinda like a young kid fighting her way through the jungle on the streets, I suspect. Interesting similarity, I’d say.”
Jessica shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, Freud, so you figured out that I see myself in some of those animals, feel a strong kinship toward them.”
“How can I not? As I recall, you came at me with teeth bared the first time we met.” He chuckled good-naturedly, then winked in amusement. “Not that I wasn’t spoiling for a fight, mind you, because I definitely was.”
“You reminded me of a roaring lion. It was a learned response to fight fire with fire,” she replied.
Devlin set his empty plate aside, then came down on his knees in front of her. “How about if we get past our lousy start? I’m willing to admit you are nothing like my gold-digging ex-girlfriend. I sure as hell hope I’m nothing like your ex-fiancé.”
“I’ll concede that you aren’t,” she murmured.
He noticed that Jessica swallowed nervously when he got up close and personal. The room shrank to the space she occupied, stealing much-needed air and making it impossible for him to breathe normally. The woman was so darn appealing. Even when she didn’t look her best, she was still the embodiment of every man’s wildest fantasy. Devlin felt the impossible lure and wondered if he needed a refresher course in willpower to withstand the kind of temptation Jessica Porter represented. If Devlin hadn’t known it before, he knew it now. He was wading in over his head.
5
DEVLIN COCKED his head and studied her. “Am I making you nervous, Jess?” he asked in a husky voice.
“Uh-huh,” she wheezed.
“Want me to back off?”
“Uh-uh,” she said honestly, spontaneously.
“Smart woman like you has probably figured out that I really want to kiss you again. Is that a problem?” he whispered, his coal-black eyes locked on hers.
“Definitely could be the start of one,” she murmured, her gaze dropping helplessly to his full lips that were mere inches from her suddenly dry mouth. “You aren’t going to take advantage while I’m injured and vulnerable, are you?”
“Funny, I thought I was the vulnerable one at the moment.” His gaze dropped, then returned to her face. “Do you have the slightest idea what effect that skimpy robe is having on me? You don’t happen to have something in a floor-length terry cloth, do you?”
Jessica glanced down to see that her breasts were dangerously close to spilling from the gaping robe. She made a grab for the fabric. “I wasn’t doing that on purpose.”
“I know. That’s what makes you all the more appealing to me,” he admitted hoarsely.
“Yeah?” Her breath hitched when he inched nearer.
“Yeah, and I’m going to kiss you now.”
Having made his intentions known, and giving her a second to object—which she didn’t, thank goodness—Devlin tasted her rosebud lips and experienced the same dizzying head rush that had assailed him earlier. He wasn’t sure if the sound he heard was pounding rain or his heart thrumming in his ears. Didn’t matter, really. The effect was the same—it drowned out everything except the hot, mushy sensations that spread through every nerve and muscle in his body. Even his wet clothes couldn’t cool him down when Jessica looped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He was burning alive in the time it took to draw breath—one so thick with her unique scent that every sensible thought launched into orbit around Pluto.
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