Westin’s Wyoming Page 7

  But his eyes softened as he peered down at her and the ghost of a smile played across his lips. “I’ll leave that to your judgment. Don’t open this door until you hear my voice. You know what I sound like, right?”

  “I know what you sound like. You’re going back out to the shed to see to that poor man?”

  The accumulated snow on his hat had begun to melt and dripped onto his broad shoulders. “I have to make sure it’s Darrell and that he’s really beyond help.”

  The door next to Toby’s opened and a light blinded them for an instant. Pierce turned his light in that direction and illuminated General Kaare, still dressed in his uniform. His expression went from annoyed to alarmed as he studied Analise and Pierce. “What is going on? Is this man bothering you, Princess Analise?”

  “No. Please, just go to bed.”

  He turned cold black eyes on Pierce. “What about the power? Didn’t you say something about a generator?”

  “There’ll be no power tonight. Where is Vaughn and where is that worthless bodyguard?”

  The door across the hall opened. Dressed in a muted red dressing gown, Vaughn stood framed in the doorway. One look at the gun in Analise’s hands and he retreated inside and slammed the door.

  “Mr. Vaughn abhors violence,” the princess said.

  “I don’t know where Harley is,” Kaare added.

  “Then do what the princess asked and keep your nose out of this.”

  “Princess, allow me to help you. Give me the weapon. We will adjourn to your room.”

  “She doesn’t need you protecting her,” Pierce said. “And as for her room, I’ll stay in there with her tonight.”

  The general’s eyes all but bugged out of his head. “I protest—”

  “Call your embassy, but that’s what’s going down. I don’t trust any of you. The maid and boy will sleep in this room. When I get back from…an errand, I’ll bunk in with the princess, you’ll stay in your room and Mr. Vaughn will stay in his.”

  “Princess, really. You cannot condone—”

  “I think it sounds like a good plan,” Analise said quickly.

  “Where is Harley? We’re paying him good money to see to your safety.”

  “No one seems to know where he is. I’m beginning to wonder what he is.”

  Pierce opened Toby’s door and lowering his voice, repeated himself to Analise. “Go inside, Princess. Lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone but me.”

  “This is outrageous,” Kaare grumbled.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Pierce muttered as he gently pushed Analise inside. She leaned back against the closed door. She should have told Pierce to be careful.

  “Your…Your Highness?” Bierta whispered.

  For now there was Bierta to reassure.

  SOMEONE HAD FASHIONED a garrote by twisting a wooden stick through Darrell’s blue kerchief and applying pressure.

  Pierce shook his head at the terrible loss of life that lay before him, swerving his light away, sad to the bones. The kid couldn’t be over twenty.

  He illuminated the generator. For the first time he noticed a puddle on the floor beneath the gas tank and a half-empty water bottle lying on its side. Had someone stuck water in the tank? That would mean the machine was sabotaged. Was that how the murderer coaxed Darrell into this building? Had they convinced him to try to start the generator and then when he was busy, stuck that stick into the blue kerchief and twisted? If so, it meant a smaller man than Darrell could have killed him.

  A sound at the door sent Pierce twisting quickly. He’d taken a shotgun from the gun cabinet before returning to the shed and that now found its way into both hands.

  “Damn, don’t shoot,” Lucas Garvey shouted, both hands in the air, his own flashlight in the snow where he’d apparently just dropped it. “I was just coming to tell you I can’t find Darrell. No one’s seen him for a couple of hours. The bodyguard is dead drunk out behind the barn. I got a couple of guys to help me get him bedded down in a stall to sleep it off so he don’t freeze to death out there.”

  Pierce suspected that was about as much talking as any Garvey man had ever done. He said, “Listen to me, Lucas. Forget the bodyguard. Darrell has been murdered. He’s in here.” As he spoke, he came outside, hooked a lock through the hasp and twisted the dial.

  “Darrell is dead?” Lucas said, staring at the door.

  “Yeah. I’m sorry. I guess you guys were pals.”

  Lucas rubbed one of his thin cheeks as he picked up the flashlight he’d dropped.

  “Don’t tell anyone else for now,” Pierce cautioned.

  “Should I report this to the boss?”

  “You mean my father? Lord, no. Let him sleep. Go check on the bodyguard, make sure he’s just drunk, okay? Then get some sleep. I’ve got to go call the police.”

  And get Analise back into her room, he added to himself. Away from all of them, safe behind a locked door…with me.

  Chapter Nine

  Back in her own bathroom, Analise discovered the only nightwear Bierta had packed for her was skimpy, flesh-colored silk and it clung to every curve with a single-minded tenacity that Analise had never before noticed. Hardly the right thing to wear in front of a stranger.

  As she cinched the matching robe tight around her waist and hoped for the best, she was glad for the power outage. Her lips lifted into a wry smile as she acknowledged to herself that Pierce was right about one thing—the paparazzi would love to be privy to this situation. Princess Caught with Cowboy in Middle of Murder Mayhem!

  How terrible that such violence should visit such a spot, and even worse because she suspected she’d brought it with her.

  It had to be the bodyguard, Harley. It couldn’t be Bierta or Vaughn or even General Kaare. She closed her eyes for a second and tried to remember if any of them had left the pavilion that evening, but the truth was she’d been so caught up in Toby’s excitement and her own budding awareness of Pierce Westin that she hadn’t noticed. For a while, it had seemed like the last few days of threats and fear had been a bad dream.

  When she reentered the bedroom, she found Pierce standing at the vanity. He looked up as she entered, a diamond tiara in his hand. “You travel with two of these things?” he asked.

  “Don’t even ask,” she said. “There’s a ball gown in the closet, too.”

  He flashed a weak smile as he carefully put the tiara back in its open case. He crossed to the small bed that had been intended for Bierta and sat down. What a smile he had. What a face. Even the dark haze of a growing beard looked good on him, defining his jawline, and though his clothes were casual, he wore them with such assurance he might have been born in them.

  In a way he was. Funny how hard it was to remember he didn’t live or work here anymore. She knew when she thought of him in the future, it would always be in connection with this ranch.

  “Where did you acquire the tan?” she asked as she sat next to him. He’d already informed her the dead man was indeed his employee Darrell Cox. And just for a little while she wanted to talk about something else.

  “I was in Naples, Italy, less than a week ago,” he said, his voice as soft as falling snow.

  The image of Naples filled her with light. “Oh, I love it there.”

  “When were you there?”

  “Several times over the years. My grandparents’ palazzo overlooked Naples Bay. My brother and I spent summers with them when we were children.”

  “That must have been nice. Just getting away from being royal must have been a relief for a kid.”

  “Well, actually, Grandmother was a king’s daughter, just as I am, and Grandfather was a duke.”

  “Man, it’s the family business, isn’t it? Do you guys get group discounts on crown jewels?”

  She smiled. “Very funny. What were you doing in Naples?”

  He sat up straighter. “That’s where our latest job is. We’ve been more or less on the road for the past five years.”

  “On the ro
ad?”

  “Moving from job to job.”

  “Doesn’t that get tiresome?”

  “Hell, no, I like it. My partner is making noise about selling out but that’s just because his girlfriend wants to get married.”

  “And you don’t think much of marriage,” she said.

  He shrugged. “I used to.”

  “What happened to yours?”

  He turned slightly to face her and his voice grew incredibly soft. “We had a little boy. Patrick. He was my whole world. After he died, my wife and I drifted apart. I threw myself into work, she needed things I didn’t know how to give her. But the truth is, I don’t think the marriage would have lasted anyway. She came from a home with so many stepparents she’d lost count and I came from this place.”

  “This doesn’t seem like such a bad place to come from,” she said.

  “You’ve met my father.”

  “I am used to men like your father. They often have soft insides.”

  For a second, Pierce’s gaze delved very deep into her eyes, and then he shook his head. “I don’t think he was always so abrupt. I’ve heard he adored my mother. She was a socialite, way, way out of his league in so many ways. Why in the world a woman like her thought marrying a confirmed cowboy would lead to happiness is a mystery. Her leaving like she did, running off with another man, well, it undid him. He wasn’t the same, or at least that’s what Jamie says. It changed him.”

  “And it affected all of her sons.”

  “Yeah. Well, Cody was the oldest. He’s the one who remembers her best. He married a woman very much like her. I think from the moment he brought her here he was waiting for her to leave and sure enough, she did a couple years later. Adam barely remembers Mom and wants nothing to do with her.”

  “He’s the one who wants a nice farm girl?”

  “Yes. Someone who understands what the ranching life is really about. A woman from the same background, someone down-to-earth. Adam has great plans for this place and the herd.”

  “That seems very reasonable to me.”

  “I suppose.”

  “And what was your wife like?”

  He grinned. “Erin was a lot like me. Wild. Crazy. Didn’t believe in much of anything, in and out of trouble as a kid, just like I was. I married her within a few months of leaving here. Then I joined the army and that straightened me out. It also kept me away from home for months at a time so Erin did her thing while I did mine and the marriage seemed good. She got pregnant when I finally left the army. Maybe our son would have helped her get her head on straight, I don’t know. We only had a year with him, too little time to tell. After she left, my old army buddy talked me into going into business with him and now you know the whole Pierce Westin story.”

  “Do you miss the ranch? There have been generations of Westins here, right? Isn’t it in your blood, too?”

  He shrugged. “Kind of. I can’t deny being back here has been good in a way. Calving season is about to begin, then there will be driving the cows to the high pastures for summer—it’s really beautiful up there, you’d love it. Then there’s haying and branding and finally market day followed by another long winter—it all starts over again. There’s a hardworking rhythm to it that you don’t find everywhere. It gets into you.”

  He looked at her and produced a half smile. “But that was a lifetime ago. Before my marriage, before Patrick’s short life or my new career, a long time ago.”

  “I can’t imagine what it was like for you and your wife to lose your baby,” she said softly. “I’m very sorry.” What would it be like to lose a child? How could anyone ever take a chance like that again, and yet how could they not? If you lost a child and were afraid to try again, didn’t that mean you lived in shadows, caught in the past?

  She wanted to ask him more questions but hesitated. She’d be gone tomorrow and the false sense of intimacy between them was already hard to cope with.

  It was false, wasn’t it? People didn’t really connect this fast…?.

  “For a long time it took courage just to wake up in the morning,” he said. “But they say time heals all wounds.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  He shook his head. “No, but it kind of wears away the sharp edges.” After a second, he added, “Your turn. Tell me what Ricard is like.”

  She glanced at him, but there was just curiosity in his eyes. “Our fathers were childhood friends. Ricard and I have known each other forever although he’s almost a decade older than I am.”

  “Royal?”

  “Titled.”

  “Appropriate mate for a princess?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s he look like?”

  She smiled at his questions. “Good-looking in his own way. He’s a businessman, very polished.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “No.”

  “Does he love you?”

  She smiled. “No. Well, maybe I’m being unfair. Do we love each other? Yes. Are we in love with each other? No.”

  “Maybe that’s better than the other way around,” he said. “Is he rich?”

  She shrugged. “His family is very prominent and yes, he’s wealthy. Above all, he has an important future within his family and desires a son of his own to pass it on to. Our backgrounds are similar, our families friendly. There should be no major roadblocks.”

  “And that means a lot to you?”

  “Of course.”

  “But it’s not very interesting.”

  Her shoulders lifted in a shrug and she stared at her hands. “It’s expected.”

  He touched her chin and raised her face to his, dropping his hand at once. “I kind of hate to admit I think this way, Princess, but that’s not good enough for you.”

  “Why don’t you call me Analise?”

  “I’m not sure. Just seems smarter to keep things a little formal, I guess.”

  “I’d like to hear you say my name.”

  He smiled. “Okay, Princess Analise. There you go.”

  She pushed on his shoulder and he caught her hand. Her breath caught as he lowered and held it against his chest. The strong thrumming of his heart resonated in her fingertips.

  The heat of his body seemed to swell between them, to envelop her. His grasp was tender but firm, his breathing steady. And his mouth was agonizingly close…

  She leaned forward and kissed him.

  His lips felt like velvet.

  In the next instant she drew away, but his hand had slipped around to the back of her neck, tangled in her hair, and getting away wasn’t so easy. Besides, she didn’t want to get away, not really.

  What?

  What was she thinking?

  His mouth was warm and wet, enticing, captivating, his kisses so deep they seemed forged from years of desire. And desire was exactly what they aroused. Hot, burning—

  She jerked away, stunned as much by her thoughts as by her behavior. “I’m—I’m sorry,” she stammered.

  “Really?”

  “No. Yes.”

  His smile looked wistful. “I didn’t think they made women like you anymore, Princess.”

  “You’re making fun of me,” she said, but at the same time, every inch of her body tingled. She suddenly wanted to do all those wild things she’d spent years denying.

  “I just thought the modern woman was as open to sexual gratification as any man.”

  “I have obligations that preclude being free to do whatever I want, whenever I want.” It was a lecture she’d given herself any number of times, but now the words sounded hollow. “I know it’s old-fashioned,” she added miserably.

  “But it suits you. And there can never be anything between us.”

  “No, there can’t.”

  “Because you’re a princess.”

  “That’s not why. This isn’t the Dark Age.”

  “Then why?”

  She shook her head and looked away.

  “Come on, spill your guts. Tell me what you’re
thinking.”

  “We’re too different,” she said.

  “Haven’t you heard that opposites attract?”

  “I’m not talking about attraction,” she said softly.

  “Ah. Okay, I get your point.”

  “Kissing you was selfish indulgence on my part.”

  “Indulge yourself any time you wish,” he said. He released her hand as he stood. For a long moment he stared down at her, his face only half-visible. “I think it’s a good idea to get a little shut-eye, don’t you?”

  “I am tired,” she admitted.

  But he didn’t turn away. Instead, he pulled her to her feet and studied her face. “You have your Ricard,” he said at last. “You have your chance for everything you want.”

  What she wanted was standing nine inches in front of her. Why didn’t he just fling her down on the bed and take her? Or better yet, go away? One or the other.

  Wait a second. How incredibly selfish could one person be? A man had died here tonight. He’d been killed and another before him in Seattle, and she was worried about her love life? Thoroughly ashamed, she added, “Did you know Darrell well?”

  “I’d never met him before this afternoon.”

  “Your housekeeper said he was engaged.” Her throat closed on the last word. All the promise that word encompassed, all the hope and the joy…

  He touched her chin and she raised her gaze to his. “What is it, Princess?”

  “He wouldn’t be dead if I hadn’t come here.”

  “And you wouldn’t have come here if your mother hadn’t given my mother something to destroy that my mother hid instead. Is Darrell’s murder their fault?”

  “Of course not.”

  “And it’s not yours, either. Listen, what’s important now is Darrell was one of two men I assigned to keep a close eye on you. The bodyguard you hired in Seattle is passed out in the barn. The other man I asked to stay sharp found him outside in the snow drunker than a skunk.”

  “Drunk!”

  “Did the Seattle cops call you back?”

  “No. Did you call local authorities about Darrell?”

  “Yes. They told me to secure the murder scene which I’d already done and promised to come out here as soon as the weather clears. For now it’s just us. And no one can leave until they’ve questioned all of you.”