Page 6 of Westin

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Page 6 of Westin

“If he hadn’t interfered, you’d be much worse off than you are now,” Clint reminded her.

She shook her head. “Please.” She stepped into Landry, wrapping her fingers up in the loose material of his shirt. “Please. Just a few days. I really need your help!”

Westin didn’t know what to say. His thoughts moved to Miss Dulcie, to the trouble none of them wanted to bring to her doorstep. But he also found himself thinking about Rena, about his own mother. He thought that one thought most men have once in their life: what if she was my mother, my sister, my lover? Wouldn’t I want someone to help her?

“We do have that group of tourists coming in today…”

Chapter 2

“It’s just over four hundred acres that stretches from here to the northern border of the state.”

Lea nodded, staring out the window as they drove through an electronic gate that marked their location as Golden Sphinx Ranch. To their left, there were trees and an expanse of what was probably a beautiful lawn in the spring that stretched up to the front door of a lovely antebellum-style house. It was white with black shutters, the sort of thing that brought to mind sweeping epics like Gone with the Wind. It made Lea think of a time when she had desperately wanted to be Scarlett O’Hara.

“That’s Miss Dulcie’s house,” someone said in a shy but deep voice. “She owns the place.”

“Miss Dulcie?”

“Dulcie Howard,” the one who seemed to be in charge announced from beside her. “Her husband, Asa, started the place back in the seventies with just three hundred acres and expanded it to what you see today.”

“Where’s her husband now?”

“He died a couple years back. Pneumonia.”

Lea nodded again, her attention turning to the front of the truck and the three handsome men taking her on this little tour. The two passengers were shoved into one seat, practically sitting on each other’s laps. One was the guy who’d come out and saved her from being yanked out of that rental car. He was dark and sultry, just staring out the window like he wasn’t practically in the other guy’s lap. That guy was blond and as handsome as a Hollywood hunk. He kind of reminded her of a young Brad Pitt, or maybe the little brother of that sexy superhero who played Thor in the Marvel movies. Very good-looking. Only trouble was, he seemed aware of the fact.

It was the driver who really drew her attention. He was the one who’d pulled her away from the fight that broke out at the rental, the one whose jacket she still wore wrapped over her shoulders. Thanks to the absence of the big, thick jacket, she could see his muscles work under the thin material of his work shirt, see the long lines of his masculine chest and thighs. No one would miss guessing that he worked at physical labor each and every day; the evidence was very clear in his sun-roughened skin and his big, callused hands. He brought to mind images of her childhood, of the rodeos she’d attended, the county fairs where cowboys were in abundance, decked out in their Sunday best to show off the livestock they’d raised for the sole purpose of being judged by the county’s finest, usually the mayor and a few of his minions.

That was the neck down. The neck up… he was just as handsome as the blond beside him, but he was a darker version of the blond bombshell. He had jet-black hair that was so dark it had hints of blue in it, hair that was smooth and thick and straight, left long on the top and shorter above the ears, the kind of haircut that was popular a year or so ago. He had a slight widow’s peak that gave his long face an added stretch that lessened the squareness of his jaw. A long, Roman nose helped the illusion along, making his face appear to be well proportionate even upon close study. But it was those blue eyes distracting from the square jaw that really did it, that made him seem almost like an artist’s idea of what a perfect man should look like, at least in Lea’s humble opinion. Those eyes were such a deep blue that they seemed to jump from his face, a fact that probably worked well in turning the heads of every woman he’d ever met.

Lea found it difficult to take her eyes from him, and she welcomed the distraction. It meant she didn’t have to focus on her current difficulties, that she could think of something other than the man who’d nearly absconded with her in front of an entire diner full of witnesses. Or the fact that the same above-mentioned man had taken off with her rental car that contained everything she owned. She didn’t even have her cell phone. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been without her cell phone!

She leaned forward and buried her head in her hands, realizing once again that she was in a mess much bigger than anything she’d ever been involved in before, and she had no idea how the hell she was going to get out of this.

“You okay?”

She turned her head and glanced at the guy beside her before burying her face again. “I can’t believe this is happening! I don’t even know who you people are, and here I am allowing you to take me onto your property where… I can’t believe I put myself in this position!”

“Maybe it’d make you feel better if you knew our names.”

Lea sat up, rolling her shoulders. “It’s a start.”

The guy beside her, the one she’d decided was in charge, pointed to his own chest. “I’m Clint. This is Bowie,” he said, indicating the big guy beside him. The big guy smiled brightly and held out his hand, then flashed her an okay sign, like that made everything so much better.

“That’s Remington up in the front seat, Landry smashed in beside him. And Westin is the one driving.”

Westin. A very western name for a cowboy. It seemed to fit him well.

They all acknowledged her with a smile or a nod. All except for this Westin guy. Granted, he was driving, but it still felt a little rude that he hadn’t even glanced in the rearview at her. She thought of half a dozen things she might say to him, but before any of them could form themselves on her tongue, they slid to a stop in front of a long, narrow building that looked like a log-cabin wannabe.

“What is this?” Lea asked as three doors all popped open at once, and the guys started jumping out of the truck.

“This is one of the guesthouses. It’s currently under repair, so no one is booked to use it this week. I thought it would be the perfect place for you to stay until you figure out your next step,” Clint said as he reached across her to open her door. “You’ll be safe here.”

She wasn’t too sure. As she stepped down, a gust of cold air slapped her in the face, moving a huge tree standing just to the left of the building so that it made a terrible ruckus, vibrations running through each of its naked limbs until it sounded like it was going to fall down on their heads. The guys didn’t seem to notice, but Lea couldn’t help but glance up at the massive tree, hoping the damn thing had some pretty deep roots. The last thing she needed was to wake with a tree lying beside her in bed!

“Here we go,” Clint said, gripping her upper arm as he guided her toward the door Remington had just unlocked. Remington stepped aside as she approached, practically bowing his head like he was giving a room to the Queen of England. “We’re working on the roof in this section, but there’s a nice room at the back where you shouldn’t be disturbed.”

He guided her down a long hallway, finally pausing as they came to the last door on the right. He pushed the door open and stepped out of the way, gesturing for her to go inside first. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it was actually a lovely room. The walls were wood paneling, a light-colored wood that seemed to gleam in the sunlight streaming through a tall window covered only by sheer curtains. There was a table with two chairs, a long, low dresser, and a massive queen-sized bed made of heavy wood—a walnut, maybe—with four posters and carvings of cowboys in the headboard. It was covered by a bright-green quilt that matched the sheer curtains, and decorated with half a dozen pillows that reminded Lea she hadn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours.




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