Twice the Temptation (35 page)

 
Movement on one of the monitors for an exterior camera caught her attention. Rick galloped up on his gray horse, Twist, and headed for the newer building that now housed the actual stable.

 
He’d been avoiding her all afternoon, and while her instinct for self-preservation told her to avoid him right back, she couldn’t do it. This whole relationship thing continued to baffle her—not so much the rules and rituals, but the way her happiness had become tied so closely to the wayhe felt.

 
“Do you want me to call Hurst and see if he’s got a couple of bonded guards who can ride?” Craigson asked, following her gaze to the monitor.

 
“Yeah, thanks,” she returned, standing. “And as soon as your night relief gets here, go home. Get some sleep. We’ve checked everything checkable.”

 
“All right. Cheers, Sam. I’ll see you in the morning.”

 
Tossing the remains of her apple in the trash can, she headed upstairs and around the back of the house. She reached the stable just as Rick was leaving it, slapping his riding gloves in his hand. He stopped when he saw her, his jaw working before he assumed his infamous don’t-fuck-with-me expression.

 
“Hi,” she said anyway.

 
“Hello.”

 
“How was your ride?”

 
“Fine. You should try it sometime,” he commented, resuming his long-legged walk toward the house.

 
“I will.”

 
He stopped again. “When?”

 
She stopped her advance, as well. “Oh, this is going to be one of those fights.”

 
Rick eyed her. “Which kind of fight is that?”

 
“The kind where you push me to do something I’m not comfortable with because you don’t like the way something else went.”

 
“Whatever you’re blathering about, it’s ridiculous.”

 
So he wanted to get nasty, then. That figured, since they’d barely had a disagreement over the past month, and she had the biggest day of her new career coming up tomorrow. He expected her to bite back, so instead she brushed past him and strode toward the stable.

 
“What are you doing?” he asked tightly.

 
“I’m going to ride a stupid horse. Then the next time we argue you’ll only be able to get on me about deep-sea fishing.”

 
“Sam—”

 
She left him behind, shoving open the door and walking in. “Hi, Briggs,” she said to the groom currently brushing Twist.

 
“Hello, Miss Sam. The boss just left. You—”

 
“I’m right here,” Rick interrupted, striding in behind her.

 
“Would you saddle a horse for me, Briggs?” she asked, shoving down her bout of nerves. A horse was just a big dog, really. If she could drive a car, she could steer a horse.

 
“You don’t have to, Samantha,” Rick commented, his tone lowering a little.

 
“Yes, I do. I’m tired of you cutting at me sideways.”

 
“Fine. Briggs, would you please saddle Molly? And Livingston, too.”

 
She kept her back to him. “I’m not riding with you.”

 
Rick didn’t like when they argued in front of anyone else, but right now the anyones seemed to be everywhere. And she damned well wasn’t going to fight him in the house in front of Inspector Clouseau Larson.

 
He moved up right behind her. “Youare riding with me,” he murmured into her ear, “because if you fall someone will have to take you to hospital.”

 
“That is not what I want to hear right n—”

 
Rick yanked at the pocket of her light jacket. She turned on him, slapping his hand away.

 
“Hands off, bucko,” she snapped, reflexively digging her hand in to protect her pocket. Her fingers curled around a velvet-soft pouch covering something harder and heavier inside. “You son of a bitch,” she snarled, pulling the small bundle free.

 
“That’s—”

 
Pushing past him to the door, she hurled it at the lake. It landed in the water a few feet from shore with a soft plop, then sank. “There’s your sixteen-million-dollar priceless fucking family heirloom.”Dammit . No wonder they were fighting. No wonder Bryce had appeared literally on her doorstep after two years. No wonder—

 
He dangled a bag in front of her eyes. “This is my sixteen-million-dollar priceless fucking family heirloom,” he murmured. “That was a little something from me to you.”

 
Samantha looked over her shoulder at him. “That evil mojo thing was in my pocket, though, wasn’t it?” she demanded. If it hadn’t been, she was just plain-and-simple cursed.

 
Blue eyes regarded her. “Yes. I just switched them. I didn’t want to risk you breaking your neck riding.”

 
For a long moment she looked back at him. “Put the diamond somewhere else,” she finally muttered. She headed for the lake, shrugging out of her jacket as she went.

 
“Sam?”

 
Hopping, she pulled off one ankle boot. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going for a swim before my ride.”

 
It was one thing to get rid of a cursed diamond when he’d planted it on her. It was quite another to have him remove it and for her to get pissed after it was too late to do anything about it. And he’d replaced it with a gift. Okay, she couldn’t call herself stupid, but just really, really slow. She dumped her phone into one boot.

 
He pulled off the loose shirt he wore over his black T-shirt and kicked out of his riding boots. “No. I put evil in your pocket. I’ll get it.”

 
Samantha straightened. “Maybe it’ll help you cool off, too.” She watched as he cautiously stepped off the bank into the chilly water.

 
“Christ, it’s cold,” he muttered, casting around with his bare feet.

 
“I’m going to get the Nightshade out of here before you breakyour neck,” she said, “or swans eat you.”

 
“Or catfish.”

 
Samantha looked from Rick’s shivering, half-submerged figure to the velvet bag beside his riding boots. Then she pulled out her cell phone and flipped it open. “Sykes? Come out to the lake for a moment, will you? And bring a blanket.”

 
“Right away, Miss Sam.”

 
No way was she going to miss Rick wading in his
lake. She only hoped a catfish hadn’t swallowed her gift. She drew a breath, still torn between anger and amusement as he dug with his toes through the muck at the bottom of the lake. He’d planted that damned diamond on her, and she hadn’t even realized it. So good, he deserved to go wading through his swan-infested lake.

 
“Anything yet?” she called.

 
Rick gave her a two-fingered salute, took a breath, and sank down under the water. Whatever the value of the item in that bag—and she had no idea about that—he certainly seemed determined to find it.

 
“Miss Sam?”

 
She faced Sykes, taking the blanket from the butler. “Please take that,” she said, pointing at the velvet diamond bag as Rick surfaced again, “and lock it in with the silverware. Rick will collect it from you later.” She frowned as Sykes bent down to retrieve it from the grass. “And don’t look at it,” she added, hearing the splash as Rick dove again.

 
When Sykes left, Samantha faced the lake once more. Okay, it was Rick’s fault she’d tossed the present, butshe had tossed it. She sat down to pull off her other boot. Besides, item retrieval was kind of her specialty.

 
His head broke the surface again and then he stood, lifting his right hand. He had the bag clutched in his fingers. “Bang on target, I was,” he said, wading back out of the lake.

 
With a half grin, Sam pulled her boots back on. “I should never have doubted.”

 
“Bloody right.”

 
He didn’t seem to notice her sarcasm. Still, at the moment, with his black hair scraggling wetly and his wet shirt plastered to his skin, the urge to argue didn’t feel quite as strong.Wow . Closing the distance between
them, she reached up to wrap the blanket around his shoulders. “You seem to be all wet.”

 
“I shouldn’t have tried to fool you.” He took her hands, tugging her closer.

 
Samantha pulled back. “Mm-hm. Why don’t you go upstairs and get out of these things?”

 
“That is a very good idea. Care to join me?”

 
She looked at him. “Nope. I’m going riding.”

 
“Samantha, I’m soaking wet.”

 
“And you just want to have sex so you can wheedle your way back into my good graces.”

 
With his fingertips Richard took her chin and tilted her face up. Then he kissed her softly. “That’s what the present was for,” he murmured, “though I’m thinking that it’s my good graces you need to wheedle back into.”

 
“Me? What did I do? Besides toss your present into the lake, and that was becauseyou mademe mad.”

 
“Who was that fellow this morning? I did notice that you didn’t give me his name.”

 
“Sucks to be you,” she retorted, stalking toward the stable. “Who was the guy you were trying to get the Blackpool job from? I’d like to call him and yell at him for not cooperating with you.”

 
Richard followed her up the slope, picking up his discarded things as he went. “That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

 
“Why not?” she retorted. “A guy from your line of work versus a guy from my line of work. Only you get to practically grab mine and toss him out on his ass.”

 
“I did no such thing. I only wanted to know who he was.”

 
“Why? Because you thought he was a thief? Or because I was talking to him?”

 
“Both,” he answered, clenching his jaw.

 
“And did you ever consider that he wouldn’t have shown up at all if you hadn’t put the Nightshade in my pocket? You know, the cursed diamond that brings bad luck to whoever’s carrying it?” She rounded on him. “That was really low, by the way. Whether you believe it or not, I told you it made me nervous. But no, you had to try to prove that you were right and I was wrong. Well, you were wrong. Itis cursed. So there.”

 
Just inside the stable door he grabbed her, pushing her back against the wall and kissing her again, hard and deep. She was as likely to win any argument as he was, and he’d found that the best way to shut her up was to seduce her. Thankfully she liked being seduced.

 
The blanket fell to the floor as Samantha slipped her arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly against her. He was wet, but she didn’t seem to care. She was so strong, and so independent, that when she finally leaned on him, clung to him, it felt intoxicating. More than that, but he still didn’t quite know how to describe the deep sense of satisfaction and pure joy that filled him when they were together, when he knew he’d made her happy.