He nodded. "Maybe. Are you sure this isn't a temper tantrum? Didn't you say he
has this habit of running off whenever he's angry so that he can cool down?"
"Yes." She pulled her braid over her shoulder and removed the small red rubber tie
that held it together. "But he usually isn't gone this long. I figured he would try to
contact me by now. Either to apologize for what happened or to fire me."
As Emma unraveled the braid, he wanted to do it for her, feel the texture of her
silky hair against his fingertips. Instead he clenched his hands into fists. "There's the
chance something happened to him. The same person who attacked you may have paid
a visit to Grant at his RV earlier."
As she finished undoing the braid, her thick hair fell in a gold wave over her
shoulder. "You sound doubtful."
He could tell she wanted the truth and nothing less would do. "Did you ever
consider it might have been Grant who attacked you?"
She speared him with a dagger-sharp look. "No. I mean…he's touchy sometimes,
but I'd never believe he'd actually hurt me."
"He shoved you to the ground yesterday."
She leaned back against the clothes washer. "He's…well…he hasn't exactly been
normal during this excavation."
"What do you mean?"
She shrugged and laced her fingers together. "Yesterday morning, before we went
to the site…he kissed me."
Anger slammed through him and immediately came to a boil, but he took a deep
breath and tamped it down. He tilted her face up with his index finger. When she
looked at him, her eyes reflected something warm and interesting back. A challenge
perhaps, or maybe a request, but for what he wasn't sure.
"And did you want him to kiss you?"
Annoyance and amusement chased over her face. "Of course not. He's my boss.
We've always had a professional relationship."
"And just out of the blue he kisses you?" His hand slid down to her shoulder.
She pulled away from his grip, stepping to the side to lean her hip against the
washer. "Yes. Out of the blue. I tried to shove him away, but he kept kissing me. Finally
he let me go."
The thought of Wilder putting his hands on her made Shane's fingers itch to find
the asshole and beat him to a pulp.
"Bastard," he said. "Did he hurt you?"
"No." She cracked a smile and her lovely face lost some of the tension. "Even before
the shoving match between you two, I thought of quitting because of that kiss. I've
never led Grant to believe I wanted anything more than a professional relationship."
The phone rang, startling them both, and Shane went into the kitchen to answer.
"Shane?" He didn't recognize the thin whisper right away. He turned toward the
door linking the living room with the kitchen and saw Emma go down the hall toward
his bedroom. "Shane, it's Aunt Josy."
"Hi. I almost didn't recognize your voice." She heaved a sigh, long and shuddering.
Instantly his senses went on alarm mode. "Aunt Josy?"
"Shane, Clement's been hurt. You've got to come to the hospital."
* * *
Chapter Twelve
Emma quickly found a new shirt and put it on, eager to remove the garment Shane
had almost ripped from her. She tucked in the long-sleeved blue-checked shirt then
retrieved her brush from her suitcase and sat on the bed. She leaned over so her long
hair fell forward and she brushed it over her head with slow, even strokes.
Maybe this ordinary ritual would untangle her emotions as well as it did her hair.
At least she could hope it would. Otherwise she would leave Shane's ranch, the
excavation and her job. The longer she stayed in his presence and the more she knew
about him, the deeper she sank into his life. Even the unknown elements of his
disconcerting past with the secret agency didn't alter her growing need to learn more
about him.
He'd shown her he understood how a person's past could ruin their future. Maybe
that drew her to him the most. The feeling he knew her in some vast, indefinable way
that no one ever had before.
She'd retreated to the bedroom because she needed distance and time to process the
overload of emotions and events that had occurred over the last two days. His kiss
today had rocked her deep, striking a match and lighting a fire that hadn't
extinguished. She smiled. When she'd told him about Grant kissing her she hadn't
expected the unmistakable flash of fury in his expression. And maybe…jealousy.
She heard Shane's deep voice become more urgent and she swept her hair back as
she raised her head, her brushing motion coming to a halt.
A few seconds later he came into the bedroom, stopping at the threshold, bracing
his hand against the doorjamb. She focused on his pale face and the strain of worry
across his features.
"What is it?" she asked.
"It's my Uncle Clement. Someone ran him off the road on the way into Gambit
Creek."
"Oh, my God," she gasped. "Is he all right?"
"No."
His sharp tone, the tight line of his lips frightened her. Dropping her brush on the
bed, she went to him, her heart drumming quick in her breast. "Is he—"
"He's alive." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He's in a coma. They
won't know his possibilities for recovery for another twenty-four hours. I need to go to
him."
"Of course. I'll stay here and—"
"No." His gaze softened, and he looked at her steadily for several seconds. "I want
you with me. It's not safe for you to be alone."
Emma nodded, allowing her concern for Clement to show. She put her hands on
Shane's chest and caressed him gently for several seconds. He closed his eyes as she
touched him, and for a moment his face showed pain, fear and loss. Seeing his face
display such a wide range of turbulent emotion disturbed her on an intimate level. He
was strong, competent and practically invincible. At least, he projected that image. She
knew it wasn't entirely accurate. No one was invincible, but he was definitely strong
physically and emotionally and most certainly competent. He cursed low and soft, and
she almost didn't hear him. Desperately she searched for some way to reassure him.
"Your Uncle Clement is a strong man. He'll pull through."
His eyes snapped open, and he gently clasped her biceps. "All of this is happening
because of me."
She frowned, momentarily clasping at his shirt. "That's ridiculous. How could it be
your fault?"
"Because it wasn't an accident, damn it." His eyes seemed almost glazed, pain
etching them. "It wasn't an accident."
She stared at him blankly, unwilling to let this disturbing information take hold.
"You think the people who destroyed my excavation are the ones who did it?"
He turned and walked down the hall. She followed him. "It had to be. Whoever
pushed him off the side of the road didn't stop to help and fled the scene. Another car
going by stopped to help my uncle."
"But you can't be sure this had anything to do with the excavation."
"I can. Aunt Josy said Uncle Clement was on the way to the sheriff's office with
some information. She didn't know what it was because he wouldn't tell her, but
apparently whatever he knew
was enough to almost get him killed."
She reached up to brush her fingers over his jawline, wanting to comfort him. The
bristle of his five o'clock shadow felt masculine against her fingers. Impulsively, she
cupped his face between her hands and drew his head down. She kissed him softly, but
at first he didn't respond. Then, with a low growl, he yanked her against him. His
mouth twisted over hers, his lips devouring as his tongue stroked deep. Surprised, she
whimpered low in her throat. Fire burst in her lower belly at his sudden need to take
the kiss to the next level. Her arms went around his neck in surrender. His aggressive
kiss went on for only a few seconds, before he disengaged and drew back.
"Damn it, Emma." His voice was husky, hot with need. She saw the promise in his
eyes, the undeniable message that someday soon he'd continue what they'd started out
on the plateau. "Are you trying to drive me wild?" His gaze devoured her the way his
kiss had, with lightning heat and probing concentration. Before she could answer, he
turned away. "Come on. Let's get out of here."
They left Charlie in the house and hurried out to the pickup truck. Shane drove the
old vehicle with a speed verging on reckless as they bounced over the rutted road
leading off his property.
"Slow down," she said, pulling her seat belt tighter. "It isn't going to do your uncle
any good if we end up in a ditch."
He relieved some of the pressure on the accelerator and he glanced over at her for a
second. He smiled and relief flowed gently through her. "I'm sorry. You're right.
Normally I'd never drive this fast."
"Right," she said, smiling back. "I remember the first time I saw you roaring up to
the site." She patted the dashboard of the lime green contraption he called a truck. "You
must have put your foot through the floorboard attempting to stop this thing."
His grin broadened and the sight of it made her pulse quicken with pure, female
appreciation. "Damn it. You're right." His grin faded to a frown. "Driving carelessly
isn't the answer. I'm sorry."
They came to the end of the road that intersected the two-lane paved road into
town. Shane stopped as several cars sped by, and waited for traffic to pass. As his smile
turned devilish, he winked at her. "And what did you think of me the first time you
saw me?"
"You don't want to know."
"Yes, I do." He pulled onto the road but this time he went the speed limit.
"You don't."
"I do."
At first she didn't know if she could speak honestly. She sighed. "Okay. I thought
you were one of the most handsome men I'd ever seen."
Oh, boy. Heat rushed into her face. She'd gone and done it. She waited for him to
speak.
"That right?" he said with just a hint of a grin. "You're nuts, Emma."
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. "Nuts? You must know how
good-looking you are."
He shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess."
Totally surprised by his modesty, she couldn't think of another thing to say.
"Damn, Emma, you're good for my ego. I don't believe a word of it, of course."
She smiled. "I'm not making it up." More heat rushed to her face. "You're sexy.
Strong and masculine…and oh, Lord—I'd better stop." She put her cooler hands to her
face.
She'd never confessed something like that to a man before. Never revealed what
she thought of his body and looks.
He laughed softly. "Maybe you can tell me more later."
His voice held sensual promise, and she tingled with awareness of him as a man in
his prime. A man who set her on fire.
As soon as they pulled into the hospital parking lot, seriousness and worry
returned to his face. At least for a few moments he'd taken his mind off his uncle's
accident.
They learned Josy was with Clement and that his condition was rated as serious.
He'd sustained a broken leg and severe concussion, and the doctors worried about how
long he'd remained unconscious. The accident had happened only a few miles from
town that morning. Josy had tried to contact Shane during the interlude when they'd
been at Buzzard Ridge and the excavation.
Dr. Minnegrode, who had taken care of Emma when Shane had brought her into
the emergency room, said, "Perhaps you'd like to get some coffee and wait. Mrs.
O'Donnell may be there with him a long time."
Emma watched Shane's jaw tighten, lines of concern creasing his face, betraying
that he might argue.
"Are you sure Shane can't go into Clement's room?" Emma asked for the second
time.
"It's all right, Emma," Shane said. "Rules are rules."
Dr. Minnegrode tugged on the stethoscope around his neck. "All right. I don't
imagine it will hurt anything."
Shane's eyes lightened and he relaxed visibly. "Thank you, Doctor."
After Shane left, Dr. Minnegrode looked at her inquisitively. "What on earth is
going on with this family?"
"What do you mean?" Emma asked.
"First you come in with a concussion, then Clement O'Donnell."
"I'm not a part of their family."
He nodded. "I'm sorry. I thought you were Shane's fiancée or girlfriend."
Surprise kept her mute for a few moments. "No, of course not."
Dr. Minnegrode smiled. "Sorry. It's just that when Shane was waiting to find out
worried man in all my life. Until today, of course."
The doctor left before she could respond.
Ruminating, Emma went to the cafeteria, knowing that both Shane and Josy would
be in Clement's room for some time. The cafeteria was virtually deserted—a young
woman sat at one table feeding a baby with a bottle.
As Emma purchased coffee, she reflected over the doctor's assumption about her
relationship with Shane. Guilty satisfaction ran through her. Shane had displayed that
much anxiety for her? She recalled the horrified expression on Shane's face when he'd
seen her kneeling in the mud, blood streaming down her face. The way he'd touched
her, held her, kissed her. Shane did care for her. Considerably.
She sat down at a small table and almost burned her tongue on the coffee. The heat
vaulted her from the stunned shock she'd hovered in since they'd learned of Clement's
accident. Her heart ached for Shane and Josy, and for herself. She'd come to like
Clement in the short time she'd known him and hoped fervently that he'd wake soon
and the doctors would declare him out of danger. She genuinely liked Clement very
much.
If anything happened to Clement, she knew Shane would avenge him if it took the
rest of his life. She had a feeling Shane fiercely protected those he loved.
Death. She shook her head to clear the horrid thought. As she sipped the coffee,
bitter, harsh memories renewed in her mind.
Doug laughing and playing with the family golden retriever Mack.
Doug taunting her, telling her that Mom and Dad loved him best.
Tears welled in her eyes. She put her cup down and covered her eyes, afraid the
tears would escape. A pounding ache started in her temple behind the bandage. Then
she remembered five years ago and the horrible hours she'd spent locked up in that
&nbs
p; cabin, awaiting almost certain death with every cruel minute the man had—
"You all right, Emma?"
Emma started and looked up to see Josy standing by the table, eyes red-rimmed
and face pale.
"Josy." She took the older woman's hand. "How is Clement?"
Josy sank into the chair next to Emma, retaining her tight grip on her hand. "Dr.
Minnegrode looked in on him a moment ago and his vital signs are improving."
"Thank heavens."
Josy's weak smile flickered across her lips and then disappeared.
"Where is Shane?" Emma asked.
"He's with Clement." She sighed. "I'm worried about Shane. He has that hell-bent-
for-leather look on his face. You know which look I mean, don't you?" Josy released
Emma and clasped her hands in her lap. "I'm afraid he'll go on a rampage and
something equally awful is going to happen to him."
Emma remembered Shane saying that there was violence in him, but she hadn't
taken it seriously. Disturbed, Emma leaned forward. "Has Shane been violent in the
past?"
Josy glanced around the room as if afraid someone might hear her. "No. He's gone
out of his way to avoid it. But I'm afraid he thinks it's genetic."
"What?"
"Genetic. Shane's father was a violent man."
So many things fell into place at that moment that Emma didn't speak as she
absorbed the information. She took a deep drink of her coffee. "Was Shane beaten by
his father?"
Josy looked up. "No. No. But his father threatened violence. It was always in his
vocabulary whenever he wanted Shane to do something. Shane was a difficult boy
growing up. At first, we thought he needed more discipline. But we saw how tough his
father was with him, and strict discipline didn't make any difference."
"Did Shane get in trouble with the law?"
"He came close a couple of times. His father was furious. Clement and I were very
busy with the ranch. We didn't realize…" When Josy didn't finish, Emma noted the
strain on the other woman's face. "Shane worked hard on the ranch and did a good job.
He also helped Clement and me when he could. But one day things got out of hand."
The suspense rose in Emma and she leaned forward. "What happened?"
Shane walked into the room right then, breaking the opportunity. Emma saw him