Every muscle in Andy's body ached from five hours of stretching fence line and two hours of shoveling manure from the broodmare barn. He smelled bad, felt worse, and couldn't wait to get off work, though he looked forward to working with L.K feisty colt. Red was ornery and mean, but he was slowly coming around. In another week he'd be tame enough for Christian Bale's mule-headed daughter to ride. Then maybe she'd quit bugging Andy. Not that he minded all that much, but she was just a kid, barely eighteen, a female--who had a little sexuality bone in her--who didn't know she was becoming a woman.

Gritting his teeth, he remembered the heat he'd felt in L.K's fingertips when she'd touched him the other day, when he'd witnessed a shimmer of passion in her blue eyes. Funny, he'd never really looked into L.K's eyes before, never realized how that many freckles around her body and bottom lip could be so sexy. For the love of Christ, what was he thinking? She was the boss' daughter. And only sixteen. Problem was he was horny as hell. Needed to get laid. Then he'd quit thinking about the kid.


Sure. Since when do you ever quit thinking about a woman? He'd been cursed from the age of fourteen, wanting sex all the time.


He took a break and lit up, drawing hard on his smoke and resting his shoulders against the rough bark of a singled fir tree near the stable. He glanced up at the Bale house and snorted. A family of five, living like a goddamned royalty in a mansion big enough for fifty.

"Well, fancy meeting you here," a soft, raspy voice intoned. Andy didn't have to look over his shoulder to know that Abi had found him again. The third time this week. She was gorgeous, he'd give her that, prettier than a woman he's ever met, but big trouble.

Still propped against the tree, he rotated and found her squinting up at him with those incredible brown eyes. Her white shorts rode high on her thighs, barely covering her crotch, and her breasts were squeezed into a top black two-piece swimming suit a couple sizes to small.


"Something I can do for you?" he drawled, dragging hard on his Marlboro.


The tip of her tongue flicked against her lips. "I could think of a lot of things." Her eyes twinkled with a naughty, you-can't-believe-what-you're-missing look. She tilted her head to one side and her ponytail fell forward, the tip curling on the swell of one breast. "But right now, Martina needs someone to bring up a ladder to the main house. There's a few bulbs out in the chadelier."


"You want me to bring in a ladder?" He nearly laughed because it seemed such a lame excuse to make a conversation with him.


She smiled, "Not me. My stepmom. And it doesn't matter if it's you or someone else. You're just the first hand I saw." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and glance at his boots, covered with dirt and dust. "You might want to take those off before you go inside. Martina's a stickler for keeping things tidy." With a wink, she turned and strutted away, her hips swaying in perfect rhythm to the bob of her short ponytail and the swing of her arms.

He found a tall stepladder in the garage and kicked off his boots before he climbed up the stairs of the back porch. Carefully he finagled the ladder through the kitchen and into the foyer, where a crystal and brass chandelier hung some fifteen feet above the polished marble floor.


Martina was fretting. Company was coming over and a few bulbs were dim or had flickered out altogether. "I don't know how thois could have happened," Martina said, little lines of irritation forming around the corners of her mouth. "The cleaning service should have told me." She glanced at Andy and there was a faint flaring of her nostrils, the hint of disdain in her eyes as she slid a gaze down his good-looking body to land on his socks and the holes in the dingy white cotton.


Andy didn't let her snobbery affect him as he set up the ladder. Martina Bale came from poor roots herself, though she didn't have a Gypsy or a Native American in her bloodlines as far as he knew. But she'd been the daughter of a farmer and a seamstress and had put herself through buisness college. After graduation, she'd taken the job with Bale Logging and had been Christian's personal secretary for years. When Christian's first wife had died, Martina had been around to pick up the pieces of Christian Bale's shattered life. The old man had been in shambles. Martina had seen her opportunity and gone for it. They were married less that a year after Monica Bale had been buried, and barely eight months later, L.K had been born. Martina Bale had seen plenty of tattered socks in her life.


He changed the bulbs and was conscious of the women watching him. Martina had hardly surpressed contempt, Abi with interest, and a girl--L.K--who thought she was hidden on the second-floor landing, with curiosity. She'd been avoiding Andy for a couple days, ever since their conversation near the stable and now, as he finished screwing the final bulb, he tilted his head back, caught L.K in surprised gaze and winked at her.

L.K swallowed hard, and though she looked as startled as a rabbit caught in the beams of headlights at night, L.K held his stare, refusing to ease back into the shadows.

She had pluck, Andy will give her that.

He dropped back to the ground and snapped the ladder together. Abi, probably just to bother her stepmom, laid her hand on his arm. "Thanks," she said with a soft smile. "Maybe we should repay you with a soft drink. Coke? Or if you want something stronger, my dad keeps a stash of Coors in the refridgerator."


"Mr. Biersack is still working." He felt rather than saw Martina stiffen, but her words meant to make him understand his station. He offered Abi a grin.


"I think I'll pass. Work to do," he drawled, then glanced back at Martina. "Maybe I'll take a rain check."


Abi lifted an elegant eyebrow. "And I'll hold you to it," she said, touching the tip of her finger to the front of his shirt. Beneath the cotton of his skin seemed to ignite by the gentle pressure of her flesh, so close to his. He wondered if L.K saw the display, decided he didn't care and carried the ladder out the back door. He couldn't help but notice the sleek Ferrari parked near the garage. The car's red interior looked liquid in the afternoon light, and two boys, Adam and Jimmy, leaned against the fender, ankles crossed, butts propped on the shiny paint job, arms folded over their chests.


Andy didn't pay them any mind. Just slid into his boots and carried the ladder back to the garage. He heard quick little footsteps as Alli caught up with him. She slid her arm through his while he balanced the ladder on his opposite shoulder. "Thanks again," she said.

"No problem."

"Oh, it was a big problem. A catastrophe, really. Almost as critical as running out of matching silver or driving a car with mud splattered on the tires." She rolled her eyes. "With Martina, it's always one 'disaster' after another."

"Looks like you've got company."

She slid a glance toward the shiny car and the two boys staring at her. "Wonderful," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Thought they were your friends."

She sighed. "Immature spoiled little boys," she said as Jimmy pushed his body from the car and waved at her. "Do you know what? They actually made a bet." Her pretty lips pulled into a scornful little knot and she didn't bother waving back.

"On what?"

"Well, that's the interesting part." She angled her head toward him and her eyes held his. "On which one of them will be the first to sleep with me."

"They told you?"

"Adam did." She showed off a dimple. "I think he did it so that I would be too disgusted to do it with Jimmy. Can you imagine?"

Andy snorted as if he didn't care. "So who'll it be?"

"Neither one," she said with a toss of that glossy ponytail. "They don't seem to realize that when it comes time, I'll do the choosing. And it won't be with a couple of snot-nosed little boys who only think about sex, football, and cars. Do you know they're so crude that they actually call a woman's breasts headlights? Headlights!" She snorted in revulsion. "Little boys." Reluctantly she slid her hand away from his, her fingertips brushing the inside of his arm. "See ya," she said, with a flirty little wave of her fingers.


Andy watched as she slipped away from him and he had the distinct feeling that he should be relieved to see her go, but he was male and straight enough to appreciate the swing of her hips, the curve of her calves, the nip of her waist, as well as the fleshy tops of her breasts that jiggled as she turned and smiled at him one last time. Headlights, eh? Well, she certainly had hers on high beam all the time. He didn't understand the game she was playing or why she was determined to make him part of it, but he guessed that she wanted to tease him, a little rich girl used to male adoration. Look what I've got and you can't have because you're from the wrong side of the tracks.

Who needed it?

His brother, Ashley, maybe. Ashley liked money. And women. Rich women.

But then, Ash was an idiot. A good-hearted idiot who worked his butt off to better himself and take care of the family. Andy grimaced. If it weren't for Ashley, Andy would have sole care of their mother and he wasn't much good at it. Never had been one to express his emotions.

Abi strolled up to Jimmy and Adam. Andy couldn't hear their conversation, but he didn't need to. Abi, for all her big talk about not being interested in the "little boys," was showing off. She laughed and whispered with Jimmy, letting him touch her waist as she turned back to see if Andy was still watching.

He wasn't in the mood. There was a part of him that was interested in Abi--any man would be. But another side of him knew she was the worst kind of trouble a man could find, and that if he were smart, he'd stay away from her. She was too damn manipulative and she was playing with Jimmy and Adam like they were violins. Those boys were suckered in so badly they were nearly drooling and Abi was eating it up. Like a two-year-old with a forbidden bowl of ice cream.

He hung the ladder on its pegs. He heard the roar of a powerful engine, then the tickling sound of Abi's laughter. Through the dusty window he watched them leave, Jimmy behind the wheel, Abi wedged between the two boys. She was laughing gaily, one arm slung around Adam's neck, the other around Jimmy's shoulders.

Andy walked out of the garage and nearly stumbled over to Max, who was peering through the lacey branches of a row of arborvitae planted as a hedge between the house and garage.

"Abi--" Max said, his lips moving, as he stared after the car.

"What about her?"

Max visibly jumped and he looked at Andy as if he was expected to be beaten. Swallowing hard, eyes darting away from Andy's intense stare, Max trembled. "She. . .she gone."

"Yeah, with those two creeps. I know."

Max's eyes quit moving so frantically. "You don't like Adam?"

"Don't really know him. Don't want to, don't care."

"He's bad."

"Is he?" Andy wasn't really interested, but he kept the conversation going just because he thought Max wanted to talk and that in and of itself was a breakthrough. Max didn't speak much and usually avoided Andy..

Robert stared after the car. "Trouble."

"That's what you said about me when I first came."

Nodding, Max watched the car roll out of sight. He didn't move until the dust kicked up by the Ferrari's wide tires had settled back on the lane. "You're trouble, too," he said and stiffened. "But different." He glanced at Andy, seemed suddenly embarrassed, then found the riding mower. "Got to work."

"Yeah, you and me both."

---

L.K was bored. Her best friend was still away at camp, and she'd already spent more time that she wanted to in town with her mother. Martina, deciding that L.K needed to get away from the house and stable, had taken her into Los Angeles, where they driven all over the city, poking around antique stores, nosing through shops downtown, and dropping into one store after another. They ate lunch in the dining hall downtown, then joined the rush hour traffic for the drive home.


Now, hours later, L.K had the start of a headache. She felt sticky and tired and wished she could climb onto Red's broad back, take off over the fields and ride the trails of the foothills to the canyon, where a pool formed in the creek and she could strip off her clothes and dive into the clear cool depths.


She could ride another horse, she supposed, but it wouldn't be the same. The sun was setting over the western hills, long shadows stretching over the valley floor. Near the stable, half-grown foals scampered in herd of mares, who busied themselves by switching flies away with their tails.


Most everyone had gone for the day; it was Friday and her mother and father had driven back to Los Angeles for dinner and a play, Alex was with Kaya and most of the hands had gone home. Except for Andy. He was still in a single paddock, astride Red, trying to get the stubborn colt to obey him. And Max was probably lurking around somewhere, though L.K hadn't seen him all afternoon.


L.K walked up to the fence and climbed onto the top rail. Andy glanced up at the sight of her, nodded a quick greeting, then ignored the fact that L.K was staring at him. He clucked his tongue and the horse responded, trotting forward for a second before he stopped dead in his tracks, legs stiff.

"Move it, you miserable piece of horse flesh."

Muscles quivered beneath Red's dusty sorrel coat. The colt's ears flicked and his eyes rolled.

"Don't even think about it," Andy warned.

Too late. Red grabbed the bit between his teeth, bowed his long neck and kicked up his heels. Dust flew. Birds scattered. L.K's stomach clenched. The horse snorted angrily as he bucked across the dry ground. Andy, swearing, muscles straining, held on.

L.K watched in fascination.

Red whirled and raced from one end of the paddock to the other. Andy held on tightly to the reins. Near the fence, under a lone cedar tree, the colt reared, tossing his head back, and Andy's thighs clamped tight. The colt bucked forward again. Andy ducked.

L.K's fingers curled over the top rail as a man and a beast pitted will against will.

With a whistle of protest, Red bolted forward, stopped, then shot straight into the air. Andy hung on like a burr. Again the colt ran the length of the fence line, a lather worked into his gorgeous coat, sweat staining the back of Andy's shirt and running down his face. "Go ahead, try and throw me you miserable son of a bitch," Andy growled and the horse threw back his head and stood stock-still.

L.K held her breath. The dust settled. Flies droned again. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Andy seemed to have won and that was good--she'd be able to ride her horse again soon. But would he be the same fiery colt she adored or just another mindless piece of horseflesh with a broken spirit? That thought settled like lead in the pit of her stomach.

"That's better," Andy said, relaxing and petting Red's red neck.

"Is it?"

"Hey, don't say anything, okay? We're working here."

Anger coursing through her blood, L.K jumped into the paddock. "I don't want him to act like some wimpy--"

"Get out of here," Andy ordered in an even tone meant to keep the horse calm. "What're you trying to do, get me fired?"

"From what I hear, you do a pretty good job doing that yourself!"

"For the love of Jesus, leave, L.K. I've got a job to do and it's not safe while I'm working with him. Who knows what he'll do!"

She kept striding to the horse. "You can't order me around!" Noticing the lackluster look in Red's usually flashing eyes, she felt a horrible sense of disappointment. "Get off him!"

"Not yet, L--" He twisted in the saddle to see L.K more clearly. His mouth turned down at the corners.

"He's my horse and I said--"

A flash of red hide swirled before him. Red, sensing his enemy had been distracted, reared high into the air, forelegs pawing, his whole body shuddering, and Andy, still twisted in the saddle, tried to keep his balance, but it was too late. The colt landed on his front feet, kicked up his rear legs, and Andy went flying, soaring through the air to land with a sickening thud on the cracked earth. "Son of a bitch!"

So he wasn't hurt. "Are you okay? I didn't mean--"

"Get out of here!" Andy roared at L.K, but L.K was swallowing a smile.

"Guess you're not finished with him yet, are you?"

Springing to his feet, Andy dusted his jeans and glared at the colt. "Leave us to our business, L."

"Give it up, Biersack."

"Never." The fire in his bright eyes was as bright as the glame in Red's. If L.K knew any better, she suddenly had gotten the feeling Andy would have pulled her close to him, but with a few blinks, the feeling had vanished.

With a victorious squeal, Red spun and started running along the fence line, heading straight for L.K.

"L.K! Get out of the way!" Andy lunged forward. "Oh, shit--"

L.K jumped onto the fence as the horse barreled past, her body brushing against the horse so hard that she lost his grip and fell back to the ground. Pain fired through her shoulder.

"For the love of Christ!"

L.K started to get back onto her feet, but Andy was at her side, and before L.K could say anything, Andy swung her into his arms and walked her to the gate, which he shoved open with a knee. Anger lined his dusty face, sweat dampened his hair, grime and dirt streaked his arms, and the cords in his neck bulged with fury.

Kicking the gate closed, he plopped her onto the ground. "Don't you ever--"

"You can't lecture me!" she said, cutting Andy off and wincing as she moved her arm. "This is my property and you're working with my horse."

"And you could have gotten yourself killed, trampled, knocked unconscious or all three."

"No way, I--"

"Bullshit!" His nostrils flared and he sniffed loudly. "Worse yet, you could have done the same with me." Pointing a stiff, determined finger at L.K's chest, he added, "You stay away from me when I'm working with that damn colt!"

"Don't you ever tell me what to do."

Eyes locked and L.K could barely breathe. Andy reached upward, grabbed the chain around L.K's neck and the St. Christopher's medal that was hidden in her shirt.

Yanking slightly, he slid his fingers down the links so that the flat piece of metal slipped into his palm, then he held it tight, pulling L.K's face to within inches of his so that L.K could smell his angry smoke-laced breath and see the pores of his skin.

For the first time, Andy noticed that her intense blue eyes were flecked with tiny streaks of gray. "I've got a job to do, Princess," he growled, "and you can play high-and-mighty all you want, but if you get in my way, you could get hurt."

L.K's heart was pounding loudly that he was certain Andy and the rest of the country could hear it. "I'll take my chances."

"Wouldn't be smart." His lips barely moved.

She inched her chin up a notch. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

"You're playing with fire, L.K."

"Meaning?"

"Just stay away from me."

"Why?"

"I need to concentrate. I can't do it when I have to worry about some candy-assed little girl getting in my way."

"I'm not--"

"Leave." He dropped the chain suddenly and L.K nearly fell over, then Andy stalked toward the horse. His muscles were hunched and he looked as if he could strangle the colt. "Okay, you ornery bastard," he growled. "Let's try it again."