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Kendra relaxed. “Chet seems nice.”

“So is Lydia.” Rafe liked the hard-working Chet. Once Lydia made it clear she wasn’t looking for anything permanent, Rafe had allowed himself to be attracted to the tall, curvy, vivacious woman.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Ask away.”

“Is there really a problem with rustlers in this day and age?”

The question surprised him, but he gave her a serious answer. “Yep. We’ve lost several head in the last few months. Why?”

“I was thinking back to last night. When I was out riding, I noticed a closed truck driving along this road.”

Rafe nearly ran off the road, swiveling his head to look at her. “You didn’t mention this before.”

“I wasn’t thinking about it earlier.”

“Did you get a look at the truck? A license plate? See the driver?”

“No, nothing like that. I noticed the truck because it seemed like an odd time to be out and about. I thought maybe it was a vegetable farmer on his way to town with produce or something.”

Rafe shook his head, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Not on this road. What color was the truck? And what direction was it traveling”

“White I think. It was going east. I wasn’t paying a lot of attention. You think it belonged to the rustlers?”

“I’d say it’s a pretty good chance.”

“Don’t they use horses?”

“Sure, but they need a truck to carry the animals away once they herd them. If you think of anything about that truck that might help us identify it, let one of us know. We’d really like to catch these guys.”

“I’m sorry. If I’d known it was important I’d have paid more attention.”

They lapsed into silence until they reached the Smoking Barrel.

“Are you up to a challenge?” Rafe asked as he hauled her suitcase from the back of the truck. She clung to the computer case, he noticed.

“What sort of a challenge?”

He set the suitcase in the hall near the stairs. “For starters, I need to see how well you can handle yourself in difficult situations.”

“I thought I was doing that rather well.”

Rafe tipped his head in rueful acknowledgement. “We have about an hour before dinner. Are you game to show me what you can do?”

“That depends on the game.”

“Let me take your cases upstairs and I’ll meet you in the basement.”

“The basement.”

Deliberately, Rafe stepped into her personal space and lowered his voice. “It’s where I take all my women.”

For an instant, her eyes opened wide behind the lenses of her ugly glasses. Then they narrowed while her lips pursed in annoyance. She shoved surprisingly hard at his chest. “Must make it hard to get a second date.”

Rafe stepped back with a bark of laughter. “You might be on to something there. However, in this case, the basement is the only appropriate place for what I have in mind.”

“Sorting laundry?”

“I’ll show you.”

Kendra watched him carry her cases upstairs. He was up to something and she had to go along. Mitchell Forbes had made that entirely clear this morning. Anything—even putting up with Rafe’s teasing—was worth obtaining her goal.

She followed him to the rear of the finished basement, surprised to find a small gym set up.

“You want me to work out?” She demanded, coming to an abrupt halt. “Sorry, I work on computers, I don’t lift them.”

Rafe chuckled again. The sound rippled right down her spine, inviting the listener to share his amusement.

“We’ll get to that part later. Take off your boots and step on the mats.” He was already removing his own boots.

“Planning to get kinky?” Her heart began pumping a little faster.

“Maybe later,” he said suggestively. Then he surged to his feet. He was a large, vital man. The basement abruptly felt isolated, locking the two of them away from the rest of the world. Rosa was just up the steps in the kitchen, but that seemed a long way off all of a sudden.

Kendra tugged off her own boots, wincing at the blister forming on the back of her left heel. She should have worn the boots more often to break them in.

“Still have your knife?”

She nodded tightly.

“I want you to come at me with it.”

“What?”

All traces of the humorous teasing had disappeared. “We’re going into a hostile environment, Kendra. I want to see just how well prepared you are to take care of yourself.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Prove it.”

Her heart pounded faster. “I might hurt you.”

“I’ll take that chance.”

It was the dismissive way he said the words. She set her jaw, stepped on the mat and started toward him reaching for her knife. His arm snaked out without warning. It happened so fast, the action was a blur. Rafe held her wrist in his grip, applying just enough pressure to make her fingers go numb.

“Lesson number one,” he said as he took the knife away as easily as if she were a child. “Never get close enough to let your assailant take your weapon away.”

“You weren’t able to take it away from me before.”

“No, I didn’t choose to take it away from you before.”

Angrily, she brought up her knee. Rafe deflected the action before he threw her lightly to the padded mat on the floor. He followed her down, pinning her there.

A wave of sensations swamped her while a spicy light masculine scent filled her head. Accompanying the annoying surge of awareness was humiliation at how easily he had defeated her.

His eyes were darkly kind, but it was his mouth, much too close to hers, that held her complete attention. Every hormone in her body leaped to unexpected life. What would it be like to be kissed by Rafe?

“Never had any judo or martial arts training?”

His breath whispered across her cheek, reminding her of the last time he’d pinned her like this. Then his hand had cupped her breast. Now her nipples rose in memory and she knew that he was as aware of that fact as she was.

“No formal training,” she agreed totally flustered as she tried to shove him off without success.

Rafe smiled, a wickedly slow, superior sort of smile. Instantly, her temper flashed.

“But I’m a real fast learner.”

And she kicked him in the shin right before she socked him in the jaw.

Chapter Three

“Kendra Kincade is exactly who she says she is,” Penny informed the meeting of the Confidentials the next morning. “Twenty-nine years old, originally from El Paso, Texas, parents, Tina and Martin Kincade.”

“El Paso was Rialto’s old haunting grounds,” Rafe muttered.

“Yes. Kendra is a computer programmer who works as an independent contractor for anyone who will pay her pricey fees and let her work from home. She must be good at what she does because she has a huge client list despite being something of a recluse.”

“Like that character in the movie where they erased her life?” Cody asked.

Penny shook her head. “Not quite that bad. Her neighbors do know her. She’s friendly, but she keeps to herself. She’s been known to travel to meetings when absolutely necessary, but most of her business is conducted through e-mail and the telephone. Her parents moved to Arizona after she graduated college, but they gave Kendra the house where she grew up. She seems close to them even though she only visits at Christmas.”

“She seldom leaves her house yet she came here,” Rafe said thoughtfully.

Penny nodded. “This trip is a total departure for her. She turned down three lucrative contracts last week, telling employers that she was going on vacation. The one I spoke with said it had never happened before. According to him, she’s as good as she claims with a computer—fast and thorough.”

“What about her assertion that Rialto had somebody close to her killed?” Rafe asked worrying about the one area that truly concerned him.

“I’m working on that.”

“Any other family?” Jake wanted to know.

“Not that I know of, but I am not a computer whiz. This kind of investigation takes time.”

“Something we have little of,” Mitchell reminded them.

“Well, as far as official records go, she’s never even had a parking ticket.”

“That’s a little too squeaky clean for me,” Brady muttered.

“Not if she seldom leaves the house,” Penny pointed out.

“Keep checking,” Mitchell advised, chomping on his unlit cigar.

“Try going back to her college roommates,” Rafe suggested. “Maybe a roommate or a boyfriend had some connection to Rialto.”

Humor sparked to life in Brady’s gray eyes. “Speaking of which, how’s the makeover coming?”

The others around the table shared grins. Rafe rubbed his sore jaw and shook his head. “She’s a stubborn little thing, but I’ll give her an A for determination.”

“Need a referee?” Cody offered.

“You’re a pal, but there’s only going to be one outcome to this bout.” He felt the weight of her knife in his pocket. “I showed her a few moves yesterday.”

Someone snickered.

“Defensive moves,” he corrected. “I’m going to take her out back today and see how she does on the firing range.”

“Better clear the ranch first,” Brady suggested. “No sense putting innocents in her line of fire.”

“I think the only one in jeopardy here is Rafe,” Cody said with a wicked grin. “And we all know innocent isn’t a word we’d use to define him.”

“Very funny.”

“Putting an ambulance on stand by only seems prudent,” Jake offered. “Rafe here seems to be the one doing the learning—the hard way.”

Rafe grinned good-naturedly. “Cute. I don’t think she’ll shoot me until she gets what she wants.”

“Excuse me, but I thought the makeover was about looks,” Penny said.

“One step at a time,” Rafe protested. “I’m doing the easy stuff first.”

Two of the men chuckled.

“Chicken?” Cody asked.

“Absolutely. You ever tried telling a woman how to dress?”

“I place a much higher value on my life.”

“Exactly.”

“All right folks, we’ve got a lot to do, so let’s get to work,” Mitchell ordered.

“And speaking of work,” Penny added, opening her notebook, “Mrs. Skerritt called here again. Something about two other dates you are supposed to keep in mind?”

Rafe groaned. Lydia could turn into a problem. Neither she nor her brother knew anything about Texas Confidential, and Rafe knew Mitchell wanted to keep it that way.

“I gave her the number for the bunkhouse, so do check your messages, Rafe.”

Jake stretched. “The joys of bachelorhood. Personally, I’m glad all I have to deal with nowadays are ornery cows, bad weather, construction crews, a wife and daughter.”

Brady shared a smile with him. “Their day will come.”

“Not a chance,” Rafe and Cody both vowed.

“NO!” RAFE MOVED alongside Kendra, trying to ignore the tug of awareness he continued to feel every time he touched her. He positioned his hand along her arm to straighten her stance and her wide eyes blinked up at him from behind her big ugly glasses covered by safety goggles.

Rafe shook off the distracting thought that she had very pretty eyes under all that glass. For one beat of his heart, he thought he glimpsed a recognizable spark of feminine interest before Kendra lowered her lashes and he stepped back from her.

“Remember to squeeze the trigger,” he told her. “The object isn’t how fast you can pull it, but how accurately you can put a bullet in someone.”

“I’m not planning to put a bullet in anyone. You want to do this?” Kendra demanded, stepping away from him and tugging off the safety glasses.

“I already know how to do this,” Rafe told her. To prove it, he took the gun from her hand and finished the round, firing carefully into the target. He knew he was showing off a bit, but her disdain bothered him.

Rafe wished he could stand further away from the utterly distracting scent and feel of Kendra Kincade. No matter that he kept his frequent touches impersonal, he continued to find himself aware of her as a woman.

Kendra wasn’t particularly attractive and she definitely wasn’t his type. She had the sassiest mouth he’d ever seen on a woman. Still, there was something appealing about her. Something that got under a man’s skin.

He’d thought the gun range would be less distracting than teaching her basic self-defense tricks that might require a lot of touching, but he’d been wrong. She had an uncanny way of reducing the great outdoors to closer quarters than the basement. If only he could stop noticing how good she smelled. The light, subtle scent wasn’t a perfume, yet it continually snuck up on him, reminding him that she was a woman.

Rafe set the weapon on the shelf.

Kendra raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t hit the head even once,” she pointed out.

Stung, he glanced at the target. “I wasn’t aiming for the head.” Every one of his shots was within inches of where he’d wanted them. “And neither should you. The chest is a bigger target. Remember, if you shoot at someone, you’re trying to stop them from coming at you. You’re not a marks-man aiming for the kill.”

Something flickered in her eyes. She quickly looked away. Before he could wonder about that look, the far-off rumble of thunder sent both their gazes skywards. Despite the sun directly over their heads, the sky was darkening quickly in the distance as rain swept in over the mountains.

“Maybe Abby and Jake should be building an ark instead of adding on to their cabin,” she said.

“Good point. I think I’ll suggest it. Let’s break and clean up for lunch. We can work out inside after we eat.”

Kendra groaned.

“Are you stiff?” She’d landed pretty hard a couple of times yesterday, but she never complained. As promised, she was a quick study. She already had a good grasp on quick releases and easy throws.

“Not at all. I’m sure my bones creaked like this before I got here.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Uh-huh.” She watched him gather up the equipment. “What’s the real reason behind all this training, Rafe? You don’t really expect me to use any of this, do you?”

Before he could respond, his beeper went off. Rafe checked it and thrust the pile of equipment into her startled hands. “I’ve got a phone call. Can you bring this stuff?”

He was gone without waiting for an answer. Kendra watched him sprint for the house and tried to banish the thought that the man really did know how to fill out a pair of jeans. Her hormones had picked a rotten time to remind her that she was a woman and Rafe was an incredibly handsome man. He would never look twice at someone like her. And she didn’t want him to.

Did she?

Penny met her at the back door and took the equipment off her hands. “He’s on the phone with Rialto,” she announced.

Excitement surged through Kendra. Finally, after all this time, her plan was going to happen.

“I have a meeting with Rialto tomorrow morning,” Rafe announced, when he rejoined them in the kitchen. The long table was set with three places and Rosa bustled about the stove, humming to herself.

“I’m surprised he waited so long to do the interviews,” Kendra said nervously.

“He probably needed time to run checks on all the candidates,” Penny said. “Don’t worry, Rafe’s background will hold up.”

“Are the interviews at Rialto’s office?” Kendra asked.

Rafe nodded.

Rosa set plates of food in front of each of them, but Kendra barely glanced down. Rosa would scold her again in broken English, but excitement had stolen any appetite Kendra might have had. Everything was finally coming together after all this time.

“You should know about the painting,” Kendra told Rafe.

He paused in the act of lifting his fork. “What painting?”

“Rialto has a large abstract on the wall behind his desk. It’s supposed to be a Sylvian original.”

His brow pleated as Rafe looked the question at her while he chewed and swallowed.

“Rialto was briefly interested in the art scene a year or so ago. Either he wanted some legal investments or he was looking for a criminal angle,” Kendra explained.

“How come we never heard about this?” Rafe asked Penny.

“Because I’m not a computer guru?” she suggested mock sweetly.

“It wasn’t common knowledge,” Kendra assured them. “Rialto got conned by a dealer who sold him a couple of genuine pieces before this fake Sylvian. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to learn that the dealer vanished after duping Rialto. There was a lot of blood left behind, but no body or a weapon.”

Penny pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Rialto kept the painting?”

“I think it’s to remind him not to get taken again. Plus, I’m pretty sure he installed a miniature camera in the picture or its frame to keep an eye on his desk.”

Rafe stared at her. “How do you know all this?”

“I told you, I’ve made a study of him. The Dallas newspaper recently ran an article on him in the business section. He was pictured at his desk with the painting directly behind him.” She squirmed a little under Rafe’s scrutiny. “He also paid for the painting, and subsequently the camera, through his checking account. I could be wrong about the camera of course, but given what I know about him—”

“How do you know about his checking account?” Penny interrupted.

“I’ve, uh, seen his bank statements.”

Rafe abruptly pushed aside his own plate. “You accessed his personal account at the bank? I thought that was impossible for an outside hacker to do.”

“It is, but I did some consulting work for his bank a few months ago.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “Look, the point is, if you notice the painting and tell him what an excellent reproduction it is, you’re bound to impress him.”

Rafe shook his head. “If I do that, he’ll figure I know something about art, which I don’t.”

“No. You point out that you know someone else who bought a fraud exactly like it from Jasper Coons. He’s the crooked art dealer Rialto used. Rialto is vain. If you say it right, like you know he knows the painting is a forgery, you’ll impress him. He likes people who pay attention to details. Especially the prospective new chief of Rialto Industries.”

“She may have a point,” Penny agreed.

Rafe nodded, eyeing her thoughtfully. “Do you have other tidbits like this for me?”

“Maybe. I’ve told you I made a study of him.”

“So you did. If you’re finished ignoring your food, let’s get back to work.”

“But shouldn’t we be making plans?”

“The plans are already made, Kendra. Now we wait for him to hire me so we can put this operation in motion.”

Penny waved them off. “I’ll distract Rosa while you two make your escape.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

“So true.” She batted her eyes at him. “Let me know when you want mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”

“Ah, Penny my love, I’m not sure my old ticker could tolerate that much excitement, but any time you want to practice…”

“Get out of here while Rosa’s back is turned.”

Rafe squeezed Penny’s hand and winked at Kendra. He was teasing, but Kendra wasn’t so sure about Penny. The other woman had a wistful gleam in her eyes. Kendra and Rafe scooted down the basement steps where Rafe proceeded to work her harder than ever while asking questions about Rialto the entire time.

“No! Not like that like—”

“Touch me again and I’m going to have to break that hand,” she warned him as he reached for her once more.

Rafe stood still. They were both sweating and she was pretty sure she was going to have a bruise from that last fall.

“I have had enough,” she announced firmly.

“Is that what you’re going to tell one of Rialto’s goons when they corner you?” He narrowed the distance between them until her chest was practically touching his.

“No,” she answered sweetly, “I’ll shoot him. In the chest,” she added for good measure.

The smile started in his eyes and finally lifted the corners of his lips. Her gaze fastened on those lips, so temptingly near. She tried to tell her hormones they were pinging after the wrong man but her hormones weren’t listening. Neither was her common sense.

“You’ll need a weapon,” he said softly, taking another step closer.

Her heart stepped up the pace as his hands touched her shoulders. Lightly. Almost tenderly.

“Yes.” The word was a faint hiss of sound. In that moment as his head lowered toward hers, she knew he felt the sensual pull between them as well. Her lips parted in silent invitation. He was going to kiss her.

At last!

“Excuse me, am I interrupting?”

Kendra would have pulled away, but Rafe’s fingers tightened on her shoulders, holding her in place. He lifted his head and looked past her at the voice that had come from behind her.

“Actually, yes,” Rafe said calmly. He released his hold slowly to allow her to turn.

Lydia Skerritt stood a few feet away, dressed in heels and a canary yellow dress that would jump-start any man’s libido. Her long blond hair was in casual disarray that had probably taken her an hour to arrange. She looked sexy, sultry, and ironically amused.

“We were working out,” Rafe said.

“So I see. Did you forget our date? Dinner and a movie?”

Rafe ran a hand over his jaw, his expression chagrined.

“You did forget,” she said.

“Guilty. Do I have time to shower and change?”

“You do. I knew this might be a problem so I came a little early.”

“Okay, give me five,” he rubbed his jaw, “make it ten minutes.” He turned to Kendra. “You did very well. I’m sorry to cut this short. Will you excuse me?”

That look had probably melted harder hearts than hers. “No problem. I’m exhausted. One more throw and I would have cried uncle.”

“You did,” he reminded her.

“Ah, but that was just a trick. I was about to send you flying.” She turned to Lydia before he could comment. “Thanks for the rescue. I could use a shower, too.”

Rafe watched her walk away, her head held high, the slight sway of her stride momentarily confusing him. What was going on here? He wasn’t seriously attracted to Kendra. He didn’t even trust her most of the time. Yet he found Lydia watching him watch Kendra with arched eyebrows.

“Working out, huh?” she asked playfully. “Just what were you two working at?”

If there’d been any trace of jealousy in her tone, he would have taken offense, but Lydia simply sounded amused.

“Mitchell asked me to show her some self-defense moves. She lives alone. I’m sorry, Lydia, I really did forget our plans. Ten minutes, promise.”

“Uh-huh.”

But she was still smiling as she linked her arm with his and started for the steps. Her perfume permeated the room. He’d always liked the scent of jasmine, but tonight it smelled cloying to his senses.

He left Lydia in the kitchen talking with Rosa while he walked over to the bunkhouse, stripped and showered in record time. A night with Lydia was exactly what he needed to unwind. She was witty, charming, beautiful and willing—and like him, she wanted no permanent ties. Who could ask for anything more?

So why did he keep picturing wide hazel-brown eyes and softly parted lips, waiting to be tasted?

The date wasn’t a disaster, but it wasn’t the escape he’d hoped for. Rafe found it hard to concentrate and more than once had to apologize for not hearing something Lydia said. He was grateful for the darkened movie theater where nothing more was expected from him than sitting there with his arm around her. He was heartily sick of the scent of jasmine by the time the evening was over.

He knew when Lydia invited him back to Chet’s for the night he was going to say no. Her talented mouth wasn’t stirring him tonight. He had too many other things on his mind. The ringing of her car phone changed everything.

“There’s been an accident. A couple of the guests are hurt,” she told him, hanging up. “I have to get back to the ranch.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“If you don’t mind. Chet thinks he might have to take one of them to the doctor’s and the helicopter is temporarily grounded.”

Rafe offered to go to the doctor’s office with Chet so it was the wee hours of the morning before Lydia finally drove him back to the Smoking Barrel.

“I’m sorry about the way the evening turned out,” Lydia apologized.

“Hey, you have nothing to apologize for. I should apologize for being so distracted.”

“You can make it up to me another time.”

“Deal.”

Her lips clung to his, inviting him to passion. Rafe was unmoved. They broke apart and he watched her drive out of sight before turning toward the bunkhouse. The door to the main house suddenly shut firmly as someone left the darkness of the porch.

Rafe spun around. It could have been Penny, or Mitchell or even Maddie Wells, their other close neighbor and the only woman in Mitchell’s life. She often stayed over, but Rafe didn’t think it had been any of them. One of them would have called out a greeting to him. Rafe headed across the compound to the front door. Locked.

He hesitated only a moment before pulling out the cell phone. Mitchell answered on the second ring. Someone else picked up as well.

“Someone just entered the front door,” Rafe began without preamble. “Door’s locked, but you might want to check the alarms and Kendra.”

Mitchell grunted. Penny’s voice took over. “Her bedroom door just closed.”

Rafe relaxed.

“I’ll go and see if she needs something.”

“I’ll have a look around and reset the alarms,” Mitchell grumbled.

Penny came back on the phone. “Kendra apologizes. She says she went out for a breath of air.”

“At three in the morning?” Mitchell demanded.

“That’s what she says. She didn’t realize her actions would alarm everyone.”

Mitchell muttered something and clicked off.

“Sorry for the alarm,” Rafe apologized.

“No problem. I wouldn’t know what to do with a full night’s sleep anyhow,” Penny said with a yawn. “Good night, Rafe.”

Rafe frowned. Before he headed across the way to the bunkhouse, he made an entire circuit of the house. Everything was calm and quiet. Had Kendra really only come outside for a breath of air at this hour? Or had she met someone?

He resisted the urge to demand answers right now. Morning would do. But her wide hazel eyes followed him down into sleep that night, innocently mocking.

THE SECRETARY with the pouty lips and a body designed for a man’s distraction ushered Rafe into the spacious office belonging to Stephen Rialto. With a throaty invitation to make himself comfortable, she left him there promising Rialto would join him shortly.

Rafe eyed the expensive modern decor with interest as he settled himself into an uncomfortable white chair across from the wide desk. The papers and clutter on the desk top were out of keeping with the pristine neatness of the large room. Rafe stared at the expansive painting behind the desk. Kendra had been exactly right. A man like Rialto would never leave a stranger in his office unattended. He was being observed.

After a few moments of waiting, Rafe rose unhurriedly and strolled behind the desk. He never glanced at the contents. Without Kendra’s warning, he might have been tempted by the stacks of papers. Instead, he studied the large oil painting. He couldn’t spot the camera in the miasma of colorful splotches, but he didn’t doubt that it was there.

He turned away and strolled to the large window, examining the view before returning to his seat to wait patiently. As if that was the cue, a cleverly disguised door on one wall opened and Stephen Rialto stepped inside.

Rialto wore his dark hair slicked back from his face in a style that drew attention to his high forehead and watchful eyes. His suit was custom tailored and a large ruby and gold ring glinted on his perfectly manicured hand. Rafe knew the man was fifty-six, but anyone meeting him would understandably put him in his early forties. Rialto was a powerful man with the money to defy the aging process as long as possible.

His smile, like the rest of him, was relaxed and assured. He apologized for the delay, while assessing Rafe, giving nothing of his true thoughts away.

“So what do you think?” Rialto demanded after they were both seated.

“About the company? Rialto Industries is impressive. About the job?” Rafe shrugged gently. “It would present some unique challenges.”

“You like challenges?”

“Life would be boring without them.” He knew he’d scored a point. “As for your office, I’m sure you know the impression it makes. Quite spectacular.” He let his gaze drift toward the painting. “Especially the Sylvian copy.”

“You know art, Mr. Alvarez?”

“No, but I know someone who does.” Thanks to some fast work by Mitchell and Penny this was now true.

“Most people can’t tell that this isn’t an original.”

“I happen to know the original’s owner. He’s a former lover of Marissa Sylvian.”

For the first time, those cold eyes warmed slightly. “You must introduce us some time. Let us discuss your background, Mr. Alvarez.”

Stephen Rialto was nobody’s fool. He opened a folder on his desk. His questions were pointed and tricky, but Rafe sat back, relaxed. This was familiar territory. He’d rehearsed this information until he was comfortable with everything in his phony and not-so-phony background. And he came prepared with appropriate questions of his own about the job and the company.

They parted on a first-name basis and Rafe felt pretty certain he had impressed Rialto. He was going to get the job. Now he had to do something about Kendra.

KENDRA GLARED at him. “What do you mean you arranged for a beautician to come out to the ranch and do my hair?”

“I figured it would save time. Phoebe’s an old friend. You’ll like her.”

“I don’t want to like her. If she’s an old friend, let her cut your hair.”

Rafe knew he should have told her about the arrangement with more tact. Funny. He never had this sort of problem with other women.

“Kendra, if you want out of this deal, say the word.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Tough.”

“Then you’ll consent to the makeover.”

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