CHAPTER TWO

      GIL HANFORD DROVE in with the flatbed truck filled with sixty bales of straw for the horse stalls on the Triple H Ranch. It was midafternoon as he backed the truck up to the graveled slope that led up to the main red barn. The huge doors were slid open at both ends to allow a breeze through the massive three-story building. He was hoping that Talon Holt had hired someone to do this kind of work, leaving him free to do other more important things to get this broken-down ranch back online.

      He thought he spotted someone near the lockers, but the shadows were deep inside the barn because no one had turned on the overhead lights. Could be Cass. But, God knew, his duties were stretched thin, too, which is why his boss needed to hire another wrangler. And soon.

      As he backed the truck up into the wide concrete breezeway, ten wooden box stalls on one side and the tack room and wrangler locker area on the other side, he did spot someone standing in front of an open locker. Unable to get a good look at him because he was backing up the truck, Gil’s hopes rose. All he saw was the backside of the person. Had Talon hired a wrangler?

      Turning off the engine, Gil climbed out of the cab and shut the door. The whicker of several horses in nearby box stalls greeted him. He inhaled the scent of the alfalfa and timothy-grass hay stored up on the second floor above them. It was a good, clean smell, one he grew up with on his father’s ranch near Billings, Montana.

      He felt his left knee gripe, a war wound that had gotten him released from Delta Force and the Army a year ago. His kneecap had been broken during a firefight and he’d been airlifted out by medevac to Bagram, undergoing immediate stabilization. And then he was flown by an Air Force C-5 to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany, for the surgery. The best orthopedic surgeons in the world were there and Gil was grateful they were able to save his kneecap.

      Now, it got grumpy if it was in one position for too long. Moving his leg and flexing it, the stiffness dissolved. Pushing the brim of his tan Stetson up on his brow, he wanted to see who else was in the barn. As foreman, it was his job to know where his people were at all times. He had responsibility for the day-to-day operation of this teetering ranch that was struggling to make a comeback.

      Gil smiled to himself as he walked casually around the end of the truck stacked five bales high with straw to be used for the box stalls. Getting this job three months ago had been a godsend for him. And, like this ranch, he was making a comeback, too.

      Gil saw whoever it was place a big toolbox into the large locker. Damn if that backside didn’t look familiar. His eyes narrowed. The person had short red hair, built small for a man. He halted about six feet from the unknown wrangler who was crouched down, pushing the toolbox into the locker.

      “Excuse me,” he rumbled.

      The deep, male voice caught Kai by surprised. She didn’t mean to gasp. As she stood and turned, her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open. It was Gil Hanford! For a second, Kai felt dizzy, as if someone had hit her in the head and she was staggering from the blow. And then her heart ripped with such pain that she took a step back, hitting the locker door with her back.

      Instantly anger surged through her, along with a tangle of confused feelings that tightened in her throat. “Wh-what are you doing here?” she managed in a shaky tone, disbelief in it.

      Gil scowled, staring down at her. “I might ask you the same thing,” he growled defensively.

      Touching wisps of auburn hair across her brow, Kai tried to get herself under control, the shock of meeting him nearly overwhelming her. Gil had been her husband’s best friend, both Delta Force operators and on the same team. She saw his blue eyes grow to slits, felt his gaze rake her like invisible talons from head to toe. Feeling vulnerable, stripped emotionally, rage rolled through her. “I was just hired by Mr. Holt,” she snapped, her voice wobbling with feelings that threatened to swamp her. And yet, her heart, pounding as it was, wanted a redo of this conversation. She saw regret, sadness and defensiveness in Hanford’s eyes. Oh, he had his operator’s game face on, for sure. She knew it well. Too well. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, hard anger in her tone.

      Gil put his hands on his hips, staring at her. “I’m the foreman.”

      Kai closed her eyes for just a moment, opened them, feeling the air sucked out of her lungs. “Y-you work here, too?” No! That wasn’t possible! This couldn’t be happening! Her mind worked at the speed of light. Her heart expanded with traitorous emotions, wanting Gil. Again. God, she could not go there! The bastard had walked out on her after five days of the most wonderful loving she’d ever experienced with a man. Gil had left suddenly without explanation, never to return. She hadn’t seen him for four years.

      Anger flowed through Kai. Gil had used her as a convenient sex partner to bury himself in to get rid of his grief. His brother Rob, a Delta Force operator with another team in Afghanistan, had been killed. Gil had seen his brother’s body to the morgue at Bagram and then looked her up.

      Touching her brow, Kai saw his generous mouth moving into a resistant, thin line. She remembered that mouth. Far too well. The pleasure he’d given her. Kai had never known such tenderness and vulnerability in a man until Gil had walked into her life for those five days. She’d been a widow for a year. When he reappeared, he said he needed her. Silly her. She’d believed him and they had ended up in a five-day sexual feast that was the best thing that Kai had ever encountered with a man. Yet, on the sixth morning, when she awakened, Gil was gone. No note. No explanation. No email. No...nothing. She wished she could have forgotten him, but she never had.

      And now, he was towering over her, all six feet of him, broad, capable shoulders beneath a white cowboy shirt, a black leather vest stretching across his powerful chest. His Levi’s were worn and dirty, but from Kai’s view, his strong, hard thighs were just as beautiful now as they were when they’d captured her legs and held her in place to give her the most incredible pleasure she’d ever had.

      And then, he’d run. Kai had never felt so used by a man. Now, the bastard was standing there, defensive, bristling, and she could feel the energy pouring off him toward her. She was only five feet seven inches tall. She wasn’t short, but she wasn’t Gil’s height, either.

      What would he do? Try to get her fired? Invent some lame excuse to let her go? Would he do that to her after what they’d shared? She searched his eyes, which were now a darker, stormy blue. Kai could feel how taut and upset he was. It felt as if they were two boxers in a ring sizing each other up, looking for weak spots, a place to get in and punch, taking the other down.

      Her heart said it shouldn’t be like this. That Gil was a man of honor, like his best friend, Sam Morrison. Why had he walked away from her like that? Kai knew Gil well because Sam and he were on the same team. They had been like inseparable brothers. Maybe she didn’t know Gil at all. And he’d already proved to her that he would use her and then run.

      Kai wasn’t about to let him scuttle her or get her fired. She glared up at him. “And what are you going to do about me being here?” Standing tensely, her fingers curved into her palms, her adrenaline flowing through her, she saw his eyes soften for a moment. And then that implacable hardness returned. She hated the