“Owen stepped into the saddle and reached a hand down as he took his foot out of the stirrup, so Bay could mount behind him. Once she was settled, he said, “Hang on. And don’t be wiggling around. We can’t afford any more accidents.”Bay glowered at him. She clamped her hands on either side of his waist at his beltline, but his Colt .45 was holstered on one side, which kept her from getting a comfortable hold. She put her right hand above the gun, but that meant it was practically under his armpit. Then she moved it below the gun, but that put her hand low on hips close to his crotch.“Sonofabitch.” He grabbed her hands and pulled them around his midriff. “Now hang on.”Bay kept her breasts rigidly distanced from Owen’s back, but her nipples puckered anyway. It was that damned washboard of male abdominal muscle under her hands. The man could do commercials for those workout machines they advertised on TV.The horseflies were a surprise. Where had they come from? She let go with one hand and swatted at one that seemed determined to bite her on the nose.And knocked Owen’s hat askew.“That does it. Off.”“It wasn’t my fault,” Bay said. “I was getting bitten.”“Off.” He grabbed her arm and levered her out from behind him and onto the ground.”

“Too anxious to sit still, she stood in the stirrups to stretch her legs, then moved her bottom back and forth in the saddle until she found a comfortable spot to settle. She dallied her reins loosely around the saddle horn and reached up to unbutton the top two buttons of her blouse, then leaned over and shook the cotton cloth back and forth to cool herself. Her Stetson hat came off next. She settled it on the saddle horn, so what little breeze there was could reach the sweat on her nape.“What the hell kind of strip show are you putting on?”Bay nearly fell out of the saddle at Owen’s angry outburst. She jerked upright, knocking her hat off the horn and onto the ground. Her horse saw the shadow when it fell, figured it for a dangerous, horse-eating jackrabbit, and shied violently toward Owen’s mount.His horse took exception to being bumped and kicked out with both hooves, striking Bay’s horse in the rump, which grabbed for the reins, but they fell loose from the horn, and she was helpless to restrain her mount when he began to run helter-skelter down the canyon, sunfishing and crowhopping. Bay was thrown up onto her mount’s neck, where she held on for dear life. She heard Owen galloping behind her and knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up to her. But a narrow passage was coming up, and there wasn’t room for both her and her horse. She was going to be scraped off. Unless she jumped first.From her precious perch, Bay stared down at the rocky soil racing past her nose and thought of all the movies she’d seen where cowboys leaped from their horses and got up and walked away. Surely it couldn’t be that difficult.In a moment, when they reached that narrow passage, the choice was going to be taken from her. Bay closed her eyes and launched herself as far as she could from her horse’s flashing hooves.And landed like a sack of wet cement.She skidded for maybe two feet along the rocky bed of the canyon. On her face. And her right hip. And her left hand.When she stopped, she lay there stunned for a moment, then gave a shaky laugh. “Oh, that was not at all like it is in the movies.”

“She slipped into the shadows and waited, like a she-wolf, for her quarry. Bay caught her breath when Owen Blackthorne stepped into the cool night air. He was close enough to touch. His shaggy black hair looked rumpled, as though he’d shoved both hands through it in agitation. When he started to move off the porch, Bay reached out and grasped his sleeve.A second later she was slammed back against the wall, a powerful male hand at her throat choking her. She could feel the heat of him, the solid maleness of him. And panicked. She clawed at Owen’s flesh with her nails and drove her knee upward toward his genitals. Her thrust her upraised knee aside, and the full weight of his over-six-foot frame shoved hard against her from shoulders to thighs.Bay froze, staring up at him in mute horror. Her body trembled in shock. She tried to speak, but there was no air to be had beneath the crushing pressure of his grip on her throat.“What the hell . . .?” He released her throat and grabbed her arms to yank her into the narrow stream of light from the kitchen doorway.She gasped a breath of air, coughed, then gasped another, pressing a shaky hand to her injured throat. She wrenched to free herself, but he let her go without a struggle and took a wary step back. She rubbed her arms where he’d held her, wishing she’d approached him more directly.“What are you doing out here, Mizz Creed?” His voice was clipped but controlled. The violence she’d felt in his touch was still there in his eyes, which glittered with hostility. “It’s Dr. Creed,” she rasped, glaring back at him.He lifted a black brow. “Well, Dr. Creed.”She opened her mouth to say I need your help. But the words wouldn’t come. There was nothing wrong with her voice. She just hated the thought of asking a Blackthorne for anything.“I haven’t got all night,” he said. “There’s an emergency at the barn—”“Ruby’s foal has already been delivered safely,” she said. “I made up that story because I wanted to speak privately with you.”

“As she lifted her own backpack over the side of the black, heavy-duty dodge pickup, Owen took it out of her hands and set it beside the one-man tent and sleeping bag the FBI had provided for him.“I could have done that,” she said.“Sure you could. But my daddy taught me a gentleman always helps a lady.” Bay was so startled at what he’d said, and the chagrined way he’s said it, that she laughed. “Oh, my god. Chauvinism is alive and well—”“We call it chivalry, or Southern courtesy, ma’am,” he said. She realized he was heading around the truck to open the door for her.She stepped in front of him and said, “It’s going to be a long trip if you refuse to let me pull my weight. I can get my own door, Mr. Blackthorne.”For a minute, she thought he was going to make an issue of it. Then he touched the brim of his hat, shot her a rakish grin that turned her insides to mush, and said, “Whatever you say, Mizz Creed.”She was so flustered, she took a half step backward, slid into the seat when he opened the door for her after all, and said, “My friends call me Bay.”Bay flushed as she realized what she’d said. As he came around the hood and got in, she said, “That is—I mean—you know what I mean!”He belted himself into the driver’s seat and started the engine, before he turned to her and said, “My friends call me Owe. You can call me Owen.”She stared at him disbelief. “Oh. You. Blackthorne, you.”

“If you know anything,” he said. “If you can give us any help finding—”“The truth is, I can help you find those mines.” Bay couldn’t believe the enormous lie that had just come out of her mouth. She took a deep breath and added, “But you have to take me with you to the Big Bend.”“I work alone.”“Then we’re finished here,” Bay said, turning to leave.Owen caught her before she’d taken two steps. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what you know.”“I’ll tell you everything when we get to the Big Bend.”“I can’t take you with me, Dr. Creed. It’s too dangerous. If you help me out, I’ll make sure your brother gets a chance to tell his story in court.”Bay gave an unladylike snort. “I don’t believe you.”She was surprised at the anger that flared in his eyes before he said, “I’m not in the habit of lying.”“I’ve never met an honest Blackthorne,” she said. “And I sure as hell don’t trust you.”“I ought to arrest you for obstruction,” he muttered.“Go ahead!” she challenged. “Then I can tell them how you manhandled me.” She glanced towards his tight grasp on her arm, then put her fingertips to her aching throat, and said, “I’m sure I’ll have the bruises to prove it.”He looked down in surprise to where his fingers were clamped on her forearm, as though he’d had no notion of how tightly he was holding her, and abruptly he let her go. She rubbed her arm and said, “When do we leave?”“You wouldn’t be able to keep up with me.”“Of course I would,” she replied. “I’m incredibly fit.”She felt her stomach flutter as his eyes raked her from legs to belly to breasts . . . and lingered there appreciatively. His heavy-lidded gaze lifted to her mouth, and she nervously slid her tongue across her lips. She felt a quiver of anticipation as his eyes locked on hers, hot and needy.“You can’t come with me,” he said at last. “You’d be a . . . dangerous distraction.”

“When the sun was low in the sky, he retreated back into the cave and tapped her on the shoulder. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”She bounced upright, and her head caught him on the chin, knocking his teeth together and catching his lip between them.“Ouch!” he yelped.“I’m sorry. I get called so often in the middle of the night for emergencies that I’m used to popping out of bed.”He massaged his chin and worked his jaw and dabbed at his split lip. “I’ll remember that.”She leaned toward him and moved his hand out of the way. “You’re bleeding.”She unwounded the handkerchief from her hand and used it to dab at his lip. She moved the cloth away and used a finger to plump his lip where his teeth had left a tiny cut. “Speaking as a physician, I’d say you’ll recover.”“Not if you keep that up for long,” he murmured, looking into her eyes.She seemed startled, then looked back at him. Their eyes caught and held. “We really shouldn’t do this,” she murmured. “I know,” he said, as he lowered his mouth to hers. “Be gentle with me. I’m wounded.”

“I hurt my hip, too.”“Let me see.”She made a face and yelped when her cheek protested even that slight movement. “You don’t need to see my hip. It’s fine.”“If the skin’s broken, it’ll need cleaning, too,” he said, unbuckling her belt.“Stop that.”“Think of me as your doctor,” he said, as he unsnapped and then unzipped her jeans.“My doctor doesn’t usually undress me,” she snapped. “And my patients already come undressed.”He laughed. “Life your hips,” he said. “Up!” he ordered, when she hesitated.She put her one good hand on his shoulder to brace herself and lifted her hips as he pulled her torn jeans down. To her surprise, her bikini underwear was shredded, and the skin underneath was bloody. “Uh-oh.”She was still staring at the injury on her hip when she felt him pulling off her boots. She started to protest, saw the warning look in his eyes, and shut her mouth. He pulled her jeans off, leaving her legs bare above her white boot socks. “Was that really necessary?”“You’re decent,” he said, straightening the tails of her Western shirt over her shredded bikini underwear. “I can put your boots back on if you like.”Bay shook her head and laughed. “Just get the first-aid kit, and let me take care of myself.”He grimaced. “If I’m not mistaken, you packed the first-aid kit in your saddlebags.”Bay winced. “You’re right.” She stared down the canyon as far as she could see. There was no sign of her horse. “How long do you think it’ll take him to stop running?”“He won’t have gone far. But I need to set up camp before it gets dark. And I’m not hunting for your horse in the dark, for the same reason I’m not hunting for your brother in the dark.”“Where am I supposed to sleep? My bedroll and tent are with my horse.”“You should have thought of that before you started that little striptease of yours.”“You’re the one who shouted and scared me half to death. I was only trying to cool off.”“And heating me up in the process!”“I can’t help it if you have a vivid imagination.”“It didn’t take much to imagine to see your breasts,” he shot back. “You opened your blouse right up and bent over and flapped your shirt like you were waving a red flag at a bull”“I was getting some air!”“You slid your butt around that saddle like you were sitting right on my lap.”“That’s ridiculous!”“Then you lifted your arms to hold your hair up and those perfect little breasts of yours—” “That’s enough,” she interrupted. “You’re crazy if you think—”“You mean you weren’t inviting me to kiss my way around those wispy curls at your nape?”“I most certainly was not!”“Could’ve fooled me.”She searched for the worst insult she could think of to sling at him. “You—you—Bullying Blackthorne!”“Damned contentious Creed!”