He blinked like a man in deep physical pain, rubbed his hands over his face, and swore a litany of curses under his breath. What the hell could he do? He couldn’t stop Lyle from selling his land. He couldn’t stop Samantha from seeing who she wanted. He couldn’t stop Will from running off half-cocked to do who knew what fool thing next. He couldn’t do a damn thing. The wolves were closing in and he couldn’t do a goddamn thing to stop them. The knowledge shook him right to the core.

Mari stood in the shadows just inside the barn, holding her breath, caught between stepping out and sliding away. She had little doubt J.D. would not appreciate her intrusion on the moment. He stood there with his hands braced on a section of split rail fence, looking out over an open meadow. The naked vulnerability in his face struck her like a physical blow. It was like seeing the Lone Ranger unmasked and realizing he was just a regular man. She wanted to reach out to him, to offer him a touch, some comfort. She knew instinctively he wouldn’t want it, and that knowledge made her heart ache.

Oh, Marilee, what are you getting yourself into here?

Trouble with a capital J.D.

She moved backward down the aisle on tiptoe, then coughed loudly and came ahead, scuffing her feet on the cement as she went. When she reached the end of the barn again, J.D. was trying to settle his iron-man mask back in place. He cleared his throat and shot her a scowl.

“Thought you were leaving.”

“Can’t go anywhere without Clyde,” she said, catching herself dropping her pronouns as if she had lived there her whole life.

“Who-? Oh, the mule.” He made no move toward the barn, just stood there leaning against the fence, pretending nothing at all was the matter.

“I’m not much for parties as a rule,” Mari said, stepping up beside him. She tried to mirror his stance and found herself staring at a fence rail. Undaunted, she climbed up onto the lowest bar and hooked her arms over the top, a position that put her eye level with Rafferty. “I don’t like much of anything I have to shave my legs for.”

“So don’t go.”

“I’m just curious about a couple of things, that’s all. I had sort of lost touch with Lucy since she moved here. I’m curious about the crowd she ran with.”

“So go see them,” J.D. growled. “Do what you like.”

“It’s not a matter of what I like. Lucy left me everything she had in the world. I feel a certain obligation.”

J.D. sniffed, dry amusement kicking up one corner of his mouth. He knew all about obligation. He clung to his while the world came apart around him.

“Has Bryce asked you about selling yet?” he said.

“Not really.”

“He will.” He turned and studied her, his eyes narrowed. “Will you sell it?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s a ruthless, obnoxious little son of a bitch who doesn’t give a damn about anything but getting what he wants.”

Mari arched a brow. “I could say the same thing about you-except the little part.”

He didn’t bat an eye. At that moment it was difficult to reconcile the image before her with the one she’d seen from the shadows. This man didn’t look as if he had ever been afraid in his life. He looked like bullets would bounce off his chest.

“Will you sell it to me?” he asked bluntly.

“I told you, I haven’t decided to sell it at all.”

He stepped over and very deliberately planted a hand on either side of her on the rail. Mari twisted around to face him, her heart beating a little harder as he leaned close. His gaze held hers like a deer in headlights.

“Don’t play games with me, Mary Lee,” he warned.

“I’m not interested in games,” she whispered, her heart pounding harder behind her breastbone.

For a moment J.D. looked into those big deep blue eyes, looking for lies, looking for reasons not to trust. Then he felt as if he were drowning in them, and lies and Bryce and everything else went right out of his head. Losing himself seemed a welcome option at the moment. He pressed his lips over hers and submerged himself into a blissful oblivion.

Mari kissed him back, bracing her hands on his shoulders. They were like rock beneath the damp cotton of his shirt. Her fingers kneaded the muscle, moving up the back of his thick neck and down again. All the while their tongues slid against each other, their lips clung, their breath mingled with the taste of strong coffee and dust.

She wanted him. She wanted to comfort him and offer him something soft and gentle…

Then somewhere in the last bastion of sanity she thought of what kind of games he might be playing. He wanted her land and he wanted her body, and she was damn sure he would want nothing else she had to offer. She was an outsider. She didn’t belong.

As if he sensed her sudden shift of mood, J.D. raised his head and looked at her, his eyes the color and intensity of hot charcoal. She couldn’t find her voice anywhere, and simply shook her head. His face tightened. He stepped back, and she stepped down from the fence, not at all certain that her knees wouldn’t give out.

“I don’t play games,” she said again. But as she walked away from him into the dim interior of the barn, she had the terrible feeling she was already caught up in a game with rules she didn’t understand and stakes that were far too high.

I WISH YOU hadn’t done that with Will,” Samantha said quietly. She stood just outside the door to Bryce’s stable. The rest of his entourage was halfway to the house. She hung back, feeling more at home near the barn than near the mansion. In the dimly lit aisle of the stable, a dirty, tattooed ranch hand unsaddled the Appaloosa she had ridden. The man watched her over the gelding’s back for a moment, the gleam in his eyes making her skin crawl. She frowned at him and his mouth twisted in amusement, revealing a glimpse of discolored teeth.

Bryce rubbed his fingertips along his jaw, idly contemplating shaving before the party. He studied Samantha at the same time. He stood behind her and to the side, out of her line of vision, very coolly, very calculatingly assessing her emotional state. She looked more like a stable hand than his usual sort of guest. The jeans she wore were old, the blouse cheap cotton. She had pulled her hair back into its serviceable braid again and secured it at the end with a pink rubber band.

“He needed shocking, sweetheart,” he said with just the perfect touch of consolation and paternal wisdom. “Now maybe he’ll wake up and see what a fool he’s been for neglecting you. If he doesn’t, he doesn’t deserve you.” He picked up the end of her braid, slipped the band from it, and began to sift the strands free with his fingers. “Personally, I’m quite certain he doesn’t deserve you,” he murmured. “Any sensible man would cherish you, pamper you, encourage you to come into full bloom instead of leaving you to wither on the vine.”

He lifted her hair, spread it out across her shoulders. When he turned her to face him, his expression was one of fatherly concern, gently chastising. “Your hair is gorgeous, Samantha. You should wear it loose, show it off. Don’t hide your beauty, sweetheart. Glory in it.”

Uncomfortable with his flattery, Samantha tried to glance away from him, but his pale eyes had a way of mesmerizing her, and she kept glancing back at him like a nervous horse. He had to think she was a stupid, naive kid. She had never been anywhere or done anything. She didn’t have a clue how to act around his kind of people. And yet he was still taking the time to be nice to her. She may not have liked his methods, but he was trying to help her with Will, even though he didn’t think much of her choice of husbands.

“I’ve never really thought of myself as beautiful,” she admitted shyly, feeling as if she at least owed him her honesty and her confidence. He was only trying to be a friend to her, and God knew she didn’t have many of those.