The Lone Rancher by Carol Finch Page B

opening. After he’d shut the gate behind him, he chased Boston across his pasture to a wooded hillside. A moment later, he realized she was following tracks as expertly as he did. Damn, he hadn’t given Boston full credit for her skills and abilities. She was knowledgeable about her cattle and she could ride expertly—even in the darkness, no doubt. Which proved she was perfectly capable of stealing his cattle, maybe even branding them herself, so she wouldn’t have to involve her hired hands in her mischief. Then they wouldn’t have to lie when he accused them of rustling.
    â€œA-ha!” She growled in outrage, then pointed into the underbrush between the trees. “And what have we here, Cahill? Are you going to lie through your teeth and tell me that my heifers opened the adjoining gate and came over to your property for a change of scenery?”
    Quin did a double take when he saw the red heifers in the underbrush. “I did not order the theft of your Herefords!”
    Boston scoffed caustically. “No? So you did it by yourself so you didn’t have to involve your cowboys?”
    He muttered under his breath when she threw his accusation back at him.
    â€œVery clever, Cahill. You have surpassed my expectations of your shrewd and devious tactics to bankrupt me and send me packing to Boston. How dare you try to lay the blame on me!”
    She glared at him, angry with him, angry with herself for thinking he was a cut above the rest of the males on the planet. But she was wrong. Cahill was the absolute worst because he had the power to hurt her with his deception and his lies. She was fiercely attracted to him and that made her vulnerable. She had given him the benefit of the doubt about his change in attitude toward her in the past few days and he had betrayed the smidgeon of trust she had placed in him.
    Blast it, she had countered every devious ploy from aristocrats in their quest to control her fortune, but she had tripped over this swarthy, gray-eyed rancher who wanted her land and wished her back to Boston.
    Worse, he had humiliated her by pretending to befriend her and then double-crossed her. She really wanted to shoot him but she had promised Butler she wouldn’t.
    Quin rode his bloodred bay gelding up beside her, then stared her squarely in the eye. “I did not remove your heifers from your pasture, Boston,” he said gruffly.“You can despise me for a hundred good reasons but not for this because I am not responsible.”
    She elevated her chin so she could look down her nose at him. “Then I suppose you’re going to tell me it’s the Cahill Curse casting shadows of doubt on your honor and integrity.”
    His gaze narrowed and his thick brows flattened on his forehead. “Only the spiteful and ignorant believe there is such a curse to punish my family for its wealth and prosperity. We’ve had this discussion already and I expected better from you.”
    She blew out her breath. “All right, I concede that was a low blow. But you have to admit this incident makes you look bad, Cahill.”
    â€œYou, too, Boston,” he countered. “In fact, I wonder if this was a premeditated prank to put us at odds again.”
    â€œWe’ve been at odds since I set foot on Texas soil,” she reminded him.
    He eased Cactus closer, his muscled leg brushing her knee. “Not always,” he murmured in a husky drawl that sent unwanted heat coiling deep inside her.
    Then he leaned out to curl his gloved hand around the back of her neck, drawing her face steadily toward his. His eyes, which could sometimes look as cold and hard as a tombstone, now gleamed like mercury. They hypnotized Adrianna in one second flat. She didn’t protest when he brushed his mouth over her parted lips. Desire burned through her when his hand glided over her shoulder to follow the curve of her breast. She caught her breath when he rubbed his thumb over