The Man From Falcon Ridge. Rita Herron
dressing in jeans, a sweatshirt and jacket, she carried her morning coffee into the woods. Inhaling the crisp cool December air, she savored the solitude. Except for the forest creatures, she was alone. Blissfully, peacefully alone.
A beautiful eagle flew above. She watched it glide across the sky. It was free, content, soaring through the azure sky as if it didn’t have a care in the world.
Maybe she’d find that peace and tranquility, too.
“Miss Hitchcock?”
Hailey startled and jumped backward, then realized the voice belonged to Rex Falcon. She glanced up into his piercing dark eyes and fought a shiver of anxiety. His gaze seemed probing, as if he was trying to see into her soul. Her defenses rose.
He wouldn’t like what he found there, she was sure.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
His dark eyebrow slid up a fraction at her tone. “I’m ready to get started.” He stood ramrod straight, his massive shoulders powerful inside his work shirt. Early-morning sunlight glinted off his black hair, a few water droplets clinging to the overly long ends as if he’d just stepped from the shower.
She dragged her gaze downward, grateful to see the toolbox in his hand. He’d said he was a carpenter. He’d come here to work, not socialize. That she could deal with.
“Have you decided where you want to begin?”
Rattled by his gruff voice and the magnitude of his masculinity, she shook her head. “There’s so much to do, I’m not sure where to start.”
“I’d suggest the bathrooms, plumbing probably needs checking.”
She sipped her coffee. “Right. They just restored the power in time for coffee.”
He nodded. “Do you always get out this early?”
She tensed, then realized he was simply making conversation. “I couldn’t resist a morning walk. It’s so beautiful here.”
“Yes, it is.” His gaze roved over her, and she hugged her coffee mug, trying to ignore the tingling sensation his heated gaze evoked.
As if he sensed the heat, and didn’t like it, either, he cut his gaze to the sky where a hawk swooped low. His expression changed, grew more intense, yet more peaceful at the same time.
Hailey swallowed, wondering at his thoughts. Then Rex’s gaze met hers, and another unnerving ripple of desire spread through her. She wanted him to touch her. To hold her. To make her nightmares go away.
Crazy. No man could do that.
Completely baffled by her reaction, she turned abruptly. “All right, start with the plumbing. I’ll tackle cleaning up the rooms. Then we’ll talk about where we go from there.”
He gave her a clipped nod, then followed. Hailey snuggled inside her coat, reminding herself to keep her distance. She had no idea what Rex would want with a woman like her. But they were alone in the woods, and he was stronger than her.
No one knew better than she did what a deadly combination the two could be.
HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN Hailey was dangerous.
Thad Jordan examined the stitches around his eye, frowning at the discolored skin. He was going to have a scar. And all because of that damn woman.
Hailey would pay for what she’d done to him.
“Sir, are you all right?”
His secretary’s voice drifted from the doorway. As usual, she sounded meek and mild, irritating him. The opposite of Hailey. She had looked small and fragile, but he’d sensed an untapped passion below the surface. She’d proven herself to be tough and spunky.
Too spunky for her own good it had turned out.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just bring me my coffee. And make it hot this time.”
She nodded and slithered away to fetch it for him, bringing a grin to his face. At least she rushed to his beck and call when he barked—the way a woman should.
Before he finished with Hailey, she’d learn that lesson, too.
He picked up the phone and dialed the private investigator he kept on retainer.
“Carl Wormer here.”
“Wormer, this is Jordan. I need your help.”
“What is it this time? A case you want me to work on?”
“No.” Thad ran his finger over the emblem on his signet ring. “This one is personal.”
“Personal?”
“Yes. I need you to find Hailey Hitchcock.”
“And then what?”
“Just let me know where she is.” A chuckle built in his throat as he envisioned what he’d do to her. That pretty pale neck, those big brown eyes—he’d see her on her knees begging for her life before it was over.
And then, only then, would he decide her final punishment.
Chapter Three
The next two days as Hailey cleaned the house, she discovered a few nice antiques in the parlor, an iron bed in the master bedroom and a Chippendale sofa in the sitting room. The claw-foot dining-room table also added an ambience to the dreary interior. Painting the rooms would definitely spark new life to the inside.
But painting would keep Rex Falcon around longer, which was both a blessing and a curse. Rex distracted her from the fact that Thad might be looking for her, and kept her from dwelling on the fact that people had died in the house.
But his presence also unnerved her on a sexual level.
Not that he’d made any kind of advance toward her. But occasionally she sensed him watching her from a distance. Studying her as if he possessed a keen sight that could see inside her.
Another reason she’d maintained her distance. Her secrets would stay safely hidden.
Unless Thad decided to look for her.
His parting words echoed in her head, I’ll never let you go, Hailey. You’re mine forever.
Fighting the fear threatening to consume her, she headed up to shower before she drove to town for supplies. Then she’d meet the owners of the bed-and-breakfast and ask them to post an advertisement for her business on their bulletin board.
As soon as she undressed, the cool air inside the house brushed her nerve endings. It was almost as if someone was in the room with her. A ghost maybe?
No, that was ridiculous. Shaking off her foolishness, she climbed into the shower. The warm water soothed her, but when she closed her eyes, fingers of tension coiled inside her. She could almost feel Rex’s heated gaze linger over her naked body. His hands trailing down her damp breasts. His lips pressing along her sensitive skin, loving her.
She jerked her eyes open. She’d never lusted for a man before, especially like this. Not even Thad, who she’d actually considered sleeping with, and he’d appeared to be charming, educated and a professional. So why was she fantasizing about Rex Falcon, a mysterious, dangerous man she’d only met?
The isolation—that was the only explanation.
The floor squeaked above her and she froze. The attic. Were there squirrels or raccoons inside? Or could someone have climbed in there to hide? A homeless person or stranded hiker might want refuge from the elements in the dead of winter. But she hadn’t seen signs of anyone in the house when she’d first arrived.
She slipped on her terry-cloth robe and padded to the door, eased it open and listened. Another squeak. Rex?
No, Rex was working in the first-floor bathroom.
Taking a deep breath, she tiptoed