"I know what Time knows. I want to know what you know."

"He's smart. He's cautious. He wants to move up into the hierarchy of the drug cartel."

"I thought he was already in the hierarchy."

"On the lower rungs and climbing. He wants to reign with Sandequez, Juarez, and Paloma. That's where the real power lies, and he loves the taste of it. He also loves money and beautiful women and he has a passion for rare and antique swords."

She remembered a mention of the sword collection. "Passion?"

He shrugged. "Definitely a passion. Maybe it's an extension of his desire for power."

"A sort of phallic manifestation?"

He chuckled. "In a manner of speaking. Though the picture is a bit mind-boggling."

"He has a wife?"

"He's been married for over twenty years and appears completely devoted to her and their two children." He added, "Though that devotion doesn't keep him from having a mistress in Paris."

"You know who his mistress is?"

"Simone Ledeau, a model. But you can't get at him through her, if that's what you're thinking. Gardeaux makes sure that his ladies are aware of what will happen to them if they betray him."

"How?"

"He probably has them attend one of his private fencing matches at the auditorium he built at his chateau. When he wants to make a production of a punishment, he has a young fencer who disposes of threats to him. It pleases his sense of style."

"Murder?"

"Murder. Though he does give the other man a sword for self-defense."

"What if that man wins?"

"He has a promise of release from Gardeaux, but Gardeaux hasn't had to replace his pet swordsman, Pietro, in over two years. Fencing isn't exactly a skill taught in every neighborhood gym."

"But you said his man was replaced. So sometimes the other side does win." She had a sudden thought. "Was it you?"

"No, it wasn't me." He looked down at his clasped hands. "And he didn't live even though he won."

"Gardeaux doesn't release anyone?"

"He releases them." He abruptly got to his feet. "I'm going into town."

"Now? Why?" she asked, startled.

"I'm tired of questions and living with the thought of Gardeaux and Maritz every minute." He headed for the door. "I'm choking on it."

But he hadn't seemed to mind her questions before they had touched on the fencing matches. She said quietly, "I'm sorry if I upset you."

She flinched as the door slammed behind him.

A moment later she heard the sound of the Jeep roaring out of the stable yard. She stood up and moved toward the window. The taillights fading in the distance gave her a sudden sensation of loneliness. He had visited the Bar X many afternoons in the past weeks, but this was the first time he had gone into town at night. She felt oddly abandoned.

Idiotic. It was just as well he had broken the pattern. She had become entirely too comfortable with him and the evenings spent in this firelit room.

He's a man and you're closer than the women in town.

She felt a ripple of shock as Michaela's words came back to her.

The women in town. Of course, Tanek wouldn't live in the semiwilderness with no sexual outlet. She should be surprised that he hadn't decided he needed a woman before this.

One particular woman?

It was none of her business. He had his life and she had hers. Abandonment was an impossibility in their relationship.

Something soft brushed her thigh, and she looked down to see Sam looking up at her.

"Hi, boy." She gently stroked his head. "He's gone. Want to sleep in my room tonight?"

They might as well stick together.

He had been abandoned too.

"More," Melissa gasped. She lunged upward to take more of him. "That's it. Help me."

He dove deep. Deeper.

His release came too soon. He collapsed on top of her, shuddering.

He could feel her flex around him as she climaxed.

He rolled off her onto his back and put his arm beneath his head. He knew he should hold her. Closeness after the act was important to most women.

He didn't want to hold her.

He didn't want to be there.

"It was good," Melissa murmured as she nestled closer. "I'm glad you dropped by, Nicholas."

He stroked her hair. Sex was always good for Melissa. Melissa Rawlins was blessedly uncomplicated, asked little, and gave generously. She was a thirty-four-year-old divorcee who owned her own real estate business in Lasiter and wanted no ties. She was perfect for him.

But he didn't want to be there.

She kissed his shoulder. "I was afraid I wouldn't see you again. I heard there was a woman at your ranch. Is she still there?"

He didn't want to think of Nell now either. "Yes."

She giggled. "Well, she must not be very good." She reached out and grabbed him. "You nearly raped me before I could get my clothes off."

"Rape implies lack of consent." He kissed her temple. "Wrong word."

"Well, I didn't want to fight too hard. I missed you." She stroked him teasingly. "And you missed me."

"Of course." He couldn't leave yet. Melissa was no whore. He couldn't take and walk away. That wasn't according to the rules. So give her something, you bastard. He forced himself to slide his arm around her. "I'm sorry if I was too rough for you."

"I liked it." She yawned. "I like whatever you do to me. Different though." She released him and cuddled closer. "Do you mind if I take a nap? I had a bitch of a day."

"Would you like me to leave?"

"No, I just want a nap." She rubbed her cheek catlike against his shoulder. "I know you'll want it again soon."

"It's what you want that matters."

"Then you'll stay the night. I'm not about to let you go now that you finally decided to pay me a visit."

He smothered a leap of impatience. She had a right to expect it; he usually stayed the night. "Then go to sleep. I'll be here."

"Okay," she said drowsily. She was silent a moment and he thought she was asleep. "Who is she?"

"A friend."

"I didn't mean to be nosy," she whispered. "I was just ... curious. You were hurting."

"It's been a long time for me." He touched her mouth with his forefinger. "Hush and go to sleep."

"You don't want to talk about her."

"There's nothing to talk about." He didn't want to talk about Nell and he didn't want to think about her. He should have been able to block her out by losing himself in sex. He had always used sex to relax and take the edge off, and he sure was balanced on one hell of an edge now.

It wasn't working. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be back at the ranch with Nell, watching the absorbed expression on her face as she sketched, seeing her reach down and pet Sam.

Admit it.

He wanted to be in bed, screwing the hell out of her.

And she wasn't ready. She might not be ready to accept him for a long time, maybe never. It would probably be better if she weren't. He had worked a long time to get his life the way he wanted it, and she would disrupt it. She had already disrupted it. She wasn't a woman who could be relegated to the background and visited when it was convenient for him. Even in her quietest moments, he found himself watching her, worrying about her silences.

The solution was obviously distance, but that wasn't an option. They would continue to live on top of each other, intimately involved every day.

Christ.

"Nicholas hasn't come back from town?" Michaela asked.

Nell didn't look up from her sketchbook. "Not yet."

"It's almost dark. He usually doesn't stay this long with her."

Nell deliberately resisted the impulse to ask the identity of her.

"Why did you let him go?" Michaela asked.

"He does what he likes."

"You could have stopped him. He only uses her. Next time give him what he wants and he won't go."

She looked up swiftly. "What?"

"You heard me."

"I'm not sure I did. I thought you wanted me to leave as soon as possible."

"I changed my mind. I've decided I could become used to you."

"Thank you," Nell said dryly.

"And you could become used to the land. You might help to root Nicholas here with us."

"I'm glad you think I could be of service to you."

"You resent my words. I wish only the best for all of us."

"On your terms."

She smiled. "Of course. But I'm willing to make concessions to make you more content. I'll even give you fifteen minutes of stillness a day for you to paint me."

"Your generosity overwhelms me."

"It should." She moved toward the door. "I don't like to stay quiet."

"That's an understatement." Nell put aside the sketch pad as the door closed behind her.

The woman was astonishing, totally deaf to any purpose but her own.

But wasn't she the same? The pot calling the kettle black.

She stood up and moved restlessly toward the window. The sky was darkening as evening approached. She had missed the challenge of the hours spent in the gym. She had become accustomed to the routine, the rhythm of the days.

Accustomed to Tanek.

It was perfectly natural and meant nothing. She had become accustomed to Michaela and Sam too.

Where was he?

A sudden chill touched her. What if he weren't with a woman? Michaela said he never stayed this long. A man who surrounded himself with fences must be in danger when he left them behind.

Sam barked shrilly and bounded down the porch steps.

The Jeep!