Fugitive Fiancée by Kristin Gabriel Page B

her expression or read anything in her beautiful blue eyes. Was she purposely trying to torture him?
    Or seduce him?
    His fingers curled around the quilt at that thought. Part of him wanted to deny that Mimi would use her body as a ticket to stay on at his ranch. Another part of him desperately wanted it to be true. He swallowed hard. “What do you need?”
    â€œI thought I heard something.”
    He arched a brow, wondering whether to believe her. Some women played the damsel-in-distress part to the hilt, although Mimi hadn’t struck him as the deceptive type. Still, look at her track record. She’d stowed away in his hayloft. Stood up her fiancé at the altar. Found a way to sweet-talk him into offering her a job as a ranch hand—even if it was just on a trial basis.
    She tensed, then looked toward the large bay window. “There it is again.” She lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “Do you hear it?”
    â€œTurn around.”
    She blinked. “Why?”
    He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the sofa. “You can either turn around or you can watch me put my pants on.”
    She whirled. Garrett grabbed his jeans, grateful for the darkness that would cover the evidence of hisarousal. Now he just needed to cover her. He picked up the quilt and tossed it to her. “Here, you’re going to need this. Come with me.”
    Without a word, she wrapped the quilt around her shoulders, effectively concealing all that silky bare skin, then followed Garrett out the front door.
    He stood at the railing of his front porch, feeling the grooves of the smoothly worn slat flooring under his bare feet. The air was cool and crisp, with endless stars twinkling in the night sky. The moon cast a gentle glow over the rolling hills and crags of the land he loved so much.
    In the distance, the sound of high-pitched yipping carried across the peaceful night. “Is that the sound you heard?”
    She moved beside him, pulling the quilt more tightly around her shoulders. “Yes.”
    â€œIt’s coyotes. Haven’t you ever heard them before?”
    She unconsciously moved another step closer to him. “Sure. In the movies. But I thought they howled.”
    He smelled apples and something else. Something uniquely Mimi. “They do sometimes. This sounds like a pack with pups. The full moon can make them crazy. Or maybe they just made a kill.”
    â€œA kill?”
    â€œA jackrabbit or maybe a possum.” He frowned into the darkness. “Sounds like they’re in the south pasture.”
    She looked at him, the moonlight illuminating the concern on her face. “Maybe they killed one of the cows.”
    He shook his head. “They’re smart enough not to go up against a twelve-hundred-pound cow with sharp horns. But a calf is another story.”
    â€œCan’t the mother cow protect it?”
    â€œNot always. Coyotes work in groups. Half of them will distract a mama cow while the rest of them bring down the calf. She’ll put up a hell of a fight to protect her baby, though. And she’ll bawl for days afterward if she loses it.”
    â€œThat’s awful. Can’t you do anything to protect them?”
    â€œA good dog will keep coyotes at bay.”
    â€œLike Hubert?”
    He laughed. “Hubert? The coyotes would think he was a tasty midnight snack, not a threat. That’s why I let him sleep in the house.”
    â€œSeems like you’ve made a habit of taking in strays.” Mimi rested one hand on the porch railing, gazing into the night. “You’re a nice man, Garrett Lord.”
    He looked at her, wondering what she’d say if she knew he was thinking some not-so-nice thoughts right now. About her. About how he’d like to strip off that quilt and that old shirt and make love to her under the stars.
    Mimi made the mistake of turning to him at that moment, her face tilted to ask him another question. He