Sacred Ground by Rita Karnopp Read Free Book Online

a twinge of gratitude? Must you always have the upper hand? Is your male ego so damn fragile that you can't manage one simple thank you?" she asked, pulling Whirlwind to a stop alongside the barn.
    Brett slid his foot into the stirrup and managed to reach the ground without too much pain. He reached up and eased her down in front of him, ignoring the stabbing electrical shocks it caused his bruised ribs. "Thank you," he muttered near her ear. It amazed him how small her waist felt beneath his palms. His brain told him to let go and step back, but his body froze in place.
    "If you're smart, you'll go see a doctor," she answered.
    He stared into dark pools, their mystery drawing him in closer. He leaned forward, bringing his lips a breath away. He held still . . . so did she. If only she'd give a sign of permission or encouragement. She didn't. He stepped back, and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. How he wanted to do that.
    "It was nice of you to give me a ride," he admitted. His way-with-women vanished when it came to Willow . He gathered a handful of her hair in his palm and retrieved it from her neckline. Silken strands slipped through his fingers. He lifted several stragglers, slowing pulling them from her blouse. He couldn't suppress the heated affect it had on him. Subconsciously he thought he heard a soft gasp from her lips.
    "It's the least I could do after you saved Thunder and her babies. I think the boys were impressed, too," she said.
    "You were impressed?" he asked, brushing the backside of his fingers across her jaw line.
    "You should pursue your goals. You have what it takes to be a fine vet."
    "I thought that at one time. Maybe I still do. Sean needs me now. I can't be off on calls all hours of the day and night. Besides, Mother needs me too.”
    "Get married," she blurted.
    He stared at her. "That's all I need, another city lover to make my life miserable. No thank you," he said, turning away." I’ll let the boys sleep in and get Sean later when I come and check on my patients." He didn't wait for an answer or further discussion on his married status. That conversation was off limits. He stomped over to her beat-up Ford. "Mind if I borrow it?"
    "Keys are in the ignition, help yourself," she answered.
    Brett tore his gaze from her tight-fitting Levis . He needed some sleep and a cold shower, not necessarily in that order, he decided, revving the engine. In the rear view mirror he caught a glimpse of blowing hair and swaying hips. Damn, how had he never noticed before?
     
    * * *
     
      Willow worried about how Brett made her feel. He had a reputation for chasing anything in skirts—and doing anything they'd let him get away with. That kind of guy never interested her, especially one as outspoken and spoiled as Brett Turner. She'd learned more about this man the past twenty-four hours than she had in the past ten years.
    She'd always sensed his dislike for Indians and her husband. Gordon didn't make friends easily, but this difficulty seemed intensified with Brett. Their relationship had always overlapped on her. Brett treated her with the same hostility he felt for Gordon. Brett had long since been her first suspect when they found Gordon's body.
    Someone went to an awful lot of trouble trying to make his death look like an accident. The coroner admitted the faked wolf feeding was a clumsy attempt to hide three gunshot wounds.
    Was Brett Turner capable of cold-blooded murder? She'd thought so at one time, but now, she had her doubts.
    But, then who? Who would murder Gordon? Why would anyone want him dead? She'd asked herself those questions, so many times, but came up empty every time.
    Now her prime suspect lit a fire that smoldered deep. It'd been too long since she'd thought about needing or wanting a man. No man had left her longing as Brett did now. She’d decided long ago they were feelings that only came true in fairy tales. Feelings she could easily do without. She didn't need the love of