Under His Protection

“Sneak up on me! You scared me.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” he retorted, “but you need to be scared. Being on guard is probably the only thing that’s going to save that pretty little ass of yours.”

“Excuse me?”

His lips twitched, and this time, he made no effort to hide the wicked humor that flashed in his eyes. “There’s no need for that. I’m just trying to keep you safe. If something happens to you, I’ve got to call Buck, and then there’s going to be hell to pay.”

She lifted a delicately arched brow at him. “Oh, really? So what are you saying? He’d blame you or me?”

“I’d just as soon not take a chance,” he said smoothly. “Behave yourself, watch your back, and we’ll both get along fine.”

“Behave myself!” she sputtered, indignantly. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

Not the least intimidated by her, he grinned. “Elizabeth Wyatt, oldest sister, the responsible one. I can think of other ways to describe you, but I think I’d better stop there.”

She was so irritated, steam was practically coming out of her ears. She didn’t, however, blast him as she so obviously wanted to. Instead, she said through clenched teeth, “We need to get something straight, Mr. Cassidy, before we go any further. I’m your boss. You don’t tell me to behave myself or how to get along with you. You have to worry about how to get along with me. Understood?”

He should have said, “Yes, ma’am,” and apologized for so obviously insulting her. It would have been the wise thing to do since she did, probably, have the power to fire his ass. But pushing Miss Elizabeth Wyatt’s buttons, he was discovering, was too damn easy. There were just some things a man couldn’t resist.

“You’re my boss?” he repeated, making no effort to hide his mocking grin. “Yeah, right.”

“You don’t believe me? Well, how about this, Mr. Cassidy? You’re fired!”

Far from impressed, he only laughed. “Sorry, sweetheart. I work for Buck. You don’t have the power to fire me.”

Chapter 2

Outraged, Elizabeth couldn’t believe his audacity. So she didn’t have the power to fire him, did she? Well, they’d see about that! He worked for the Wyatts—all four Wyatts—and if he had trouble accepting that, then she’d call Buck and he would make him understand who was in charge of the Broken Arrow for the next month. And if he still refused to accept who his bosses were, then Mr. Cassidy could find himself somewhere else to work. It was that simple.

But even as she considered going into the house to call Buck, she realized what she was doing and stiffened. No, she thought, irritated. She didn’t need Buck to back her up—this was her ranch, too, and she was in charge! If John didn’t like it, then too damn bad!

“Don’t push me, Mr. Cassidy.” she warned. “If you don’t realize that you’ll be the one who loses, then you’re not as smart as I think you are.”

For a moment she thought he was going to ignore her advice completely, but something in her tone must have told him she was serious. With a mocking curl of his mouth, he nodded his head slightly and lifted a finger to the brim of his black Stetson. “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say, ma’am. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

He strode past her and headed for the barn. He didn’t once look back, and that was probably a good thing. Because she couldn’t take her eyes off his lean backside. The man had no right to look so good in a denim work shirt and worn jeans. Were his jeans as soft as they looked? His body as hard? With no trouble whatsoever, she could see him working in the sun, his shirt hung on a fence post, his sweat-damp muscles rippling as he worked—

Elizabeth Marie Wyatt! What has gotten into you?

Shocked by her own thoughts, she stiffened. What was she doing? She didn’t fantasize about men she didn’t know. Especially a man like John Cassidy. All right, so he was an incredibly handsome man in a hard, macho way. He was also far too sure of himself, not to mention opinionated and argumentative and an employee. Any woman who made the mistake of getting involved with him would find herself with her hands full.

She wasn’t that foolish, Elizabeth assured herself. She liked a man who was more sophisticated, less rugged, softer. She doubted John Cassidy had ever been soft a day in his life, including the day he was born.

Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about that rock-hard body of his. What would it feel like to be held against that body? To have him move over her, in her—

Suddenly realizing the turn her thoughts had made, she pulled herself up short, horrified. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t the type of woman who mooned over a man she didn’t know, let alone fantasized about having sex with him! Did John know? If he even suspected what was going on in her head, she’d be completely mortified.

This was all Spencer’s fault, she decided. She was still hurt, still reeling from his betrayal and obviously looking for a distraction. It wasn’t going to be John Cassidy!

Work, she thought desperately, turning to stride into the house. She needed to focus on what was really important—deciding what she was going to do with her future, where she was going to live, work. Nothing else mattered but that. Certainly not a man, not romance, not love.

Clinging to that thought, she stepped into Buck’s office and settled at the computer. Within minutes she was on the Internet, checking out Colorado towns and cities, searching for just the right location for an eclectic dress shop. And whenever she found her thoughts drifting to the ranch and the man she was sharing it with, she determinedly brought her attention back to the matter at hand.

The afternoon flew by, and without quite knowing how it happened, she heard the grandfather clock in the hall strike five. Pleased, she hurriedly printed out the info she’d spent the day collecting so that she could study it later, then headed for the kitchen. She hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast, and she was starving.

The refrigerator was overflowing with the barbecue leftover from the reception, and she would have sworn the only thought in her head was eating. Then she heard John’s truck in the back drive. In the time it took to draw in a quick breath, she realized that she’d been listening for him all afternoon. Before she could stop herself, she stepped over to the window that sat above the kitchen’s deep, old-fashioned cast-iron sinks and looked out.

Although she didn’t move, didn’t wave, didn’t do anything to draw attention to herself as he pulled up next to the barn and parked, somehow he must have sensed he was being watched. He glanced toward the house suddenly, and in the gathering twilight, their eyes locked.

Time jarred to a sudden stop. How long they stood there, staring at each other across the homestead compound, she couldn’t have said. Then he nodded mockingly and strode over to the small cabin where he lived at the edge of the compound. It wasn’t until he disappeared inside that Elizabeth realized he’d stolen the air right out of her lungs.

How, she wondered shakily, was she supposed to ignore a man who could do that to her without coming anywhere near her?

That was a question that plagued her the rest of the evening. Regardless of how hard she tried to dismiss him from her thoughts, knowing that he was now just across the compound, within calling distance, changed everything. She decided to have just a salad for dinner and found herself wondering what he was having. Did he watch television in the evenings? Or work? When did he take a shower—

Frustrated and thoroughly disgusted with herself, she ate only half her salad, then spent the next two hours going over the info she’d collected on the Internet. When she finally went to bed at ten, she was exhausted. She still hadn’t adjusted to the time change and could hardly keep her eyes open.

Her night, however, was far from restful. She dreamed of Buck and Rainey and the love everyone at the wedding could feel…John and the challenge in his eyes when he told her she wasn’t his boss…a faceless enemy hiding in the shadows, waiting to reach out and grab her, hurt her—

Coming awake abruptly, her heart slamming against her ribs, she glanced at the clock on the night-stand and groaned in the darkness. Four o’clock. She had to turn her brain off! But when she punched her pillow into a more comfortable position and drifted back to sleep, the images that filled her dreams tugged her back to wakefulness again and again. By the time the sun peeked over the eastern horizon, she was exhausted. With a groan, she gave up and rolled out of bed.

Two hours later, after a shower and a pot of tea, her eyes were finally open. After all the research she’d done last night, she’d planned to check out locations for her shop, but she hesitated at the thought of driving. She could use the ranch pickup, but she hadn’t even tried driving in America yet, and today wasn’t a good day to start. She was tired and far from alert, and just the thought of getting behind the wheel and driving on the wrong side of the road set her heart pounding. She’d go another day, she assured herself. Today, she’d stick around the house and take it easy.

But doing nothing all day just wasn’t in her DNA. By ten o’clock in the morning, the silence of the house was closing in on her and she was going crazy. In desperation, she stepped outside and found herself wishing for the garden she had back home.

So plant one, a voice in her head retorted. There’s a perfect spot for a rose garden right outside the breakfast room. You can enjoy it every morning while you’re having breakfast.

Delighted with the idea, she inspected the area and decided that it would work nicely. She would ask John to clear away the grass, then drive her into town for the rosebushes she would need. With the right tools, she could plant them herself.

Pleased that she’d come up with a way to leave her mark on the ranch, she went looking for John and found him in the barn, cleaning out the hayloft. In the dusty, late-morning light, the man looked as if he belonged on a calendar. She took one look at him and wanted to touch.

Heat climbing into her cheeks, she felt at a distinct disadvantage as she frowned up at him. “Can you stop for a moment? I need to talk to you.”

Stepping over to the edge of the loft, he lifted a dark brow at her. “So talk.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “If you’re going to work here, Mr. Cassidy, I would appreciate some measure of respect.”

Not the least impressed with the threat, he only grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Anything you say, ma’am. Is there anything else, ma’am?”

“Yes,” she snapped, her blue eyes shooting daggers at him. “I need the small plot of land by the breakfast room cleared so I can plant a rose garden. Then you can drive me into town so I can buy the roses.”

“No problem. How does Friday morning sound?”

“Friday!”

“I’m busy,” he retorted. “I’ve got some time Friday morning.”

If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead right there on the spot. “There seems to be a misunderstanding. I’m not waiting until Friday. I want to get this done today.”