Millionaire in a Stetson. Barbara DunlopЧитать онлайн книгу.
sheeted, exterior wall.
Reed moved closer to Niki. “You got pretty quiet there, Nellie. Something about that man get to you?”
“I’m shy,” she responded, telling herself Reed couldn’t read her mind. He had no way of knowing she found Sawyer unaccountably attractive.
But Reed barked out a laugh. “That’s your story?”
She shot him a mock, arched glare, intending to show him she didn’t mind being teased. “And I’m stickin’ to it.”
But even as she uttered the cavalier words, she struggled to shake off her embarrassment. She couldn’t help but worry she’d looked pathetic panting after a man like Sawyer.
Though Reed’s wife was a Colorado native, Katrina had spent most of her life in New York. She was unfailingly gorgeous and glamorous. Caleb’s wife, Mandy, was so healthy and beautiful that she looked spectacular in anything she threw on, including worn jeans and plaid shirts.
But Nellie Cooper didn’t have a lot going for her. When she’d been Niki Gerard she’d had plenty of money and time to make the most of her looks. But when you took away all the trimmings, there wasn’t a whole lot left.
Being plain Jane wasn’t much fun. But Nellie Cooper was just going to have to suck it up. Because she sure couldn’t afford to have anyone make the connection between her and Niki Gerard.
Sawyer Layton couldn’t believe he’d finally found Niki Gerard. To say she looked nothing like her photo was a colossal understatement. He doubted he could have picked her out of a police lineup.
Coming around back of the half-built house, he found a flat-bed truck loaded with lumber. He greeted a trio of men who were unloading, located a spare pair of leather gloves then joined them in their work, while his mind mulled over the latest turn of events.
Niki was calling herself Nellie now. He wasn’t surprised that she’d changed her name. But he couldn’t help wonder how she’d convinced the Terrells she was their sister.
It was a clever enough plan, hiding out at a ranch in the middle of the Colorado wilderness. Convincing a well-established family to take her to their bosom was pure genius. From the perspective of ingenuity and sheer audacity, Niki was clearly Gabriella Gerard’s daughter.
His first load was three sheets of plywood. He balanced them against one shoulder as he followed a short path to the growing stack beside the house. He then turned for another load, settling into an easy rhythm.
Like Niki, Sawyer was operating under a false identity. But he hadn’t lied about buying the neighboring ranch. And he hadn’t lied about being from Montana. He’d been born there. A technicality, because his parents, D.C. residents, happened to be vacationing on the family’s Montana ranch when his mother went into early labor. Still, over the years, he’d spent quite a few vacations at the ranch, learning how to work outdoors and picking up the rudiments of cattle ranching.
Sawyer had grown up in D.C., along with a brother, a sister and countless cousins in the Layton clan. His brother had become a lawyer, specializing in taxation, and joined the family firm. His sister was engaged to Miles Carter, a young Congressman from Delaware. Meanwhile Sawyer had graduated college with a degree in international affairs and joined the navy as an officer. He’d liked the discipline and camaraderie of the navy. He’d also appreciated the black and white codes of ethics and conduct.
Sawyer lifted another three sheets of lumber. He was starting to perspire under the late-day August sun.
Unfortunately, his extended family had missed him while he was away. They’d missed his ingenuity, his nerve and his rather eclectic skill set. Since the Laytons had always been much better at getting themselves into trouble than getting themselves out, Sawyer had given up the black and white moral code of the navy for the countless shades of D.C. gray.
He’d gone back to work as the family fixer. Over the past few years, he’d done everything from misdirecting the press, to quietly paying off gambling debts and secretly locking extended family members in high-end rehab centers. But nothing compared to the latest trouble with Gabriella Gerard. When she had died, and then Niki disappeared, Sawyer’s uncle, the senator had gone into full-blown panic mode.
Uncle Charles, along with many other power brokers in D.C., had a lot to lose if Gabriella’s infamous diary saw the light of day. If that happened, the whole world would know Charles had cheated on his wife and, albeit unknowingly, accepted illegal campaign contributions.
Everyone knew that Niki had the diary. And now Sawyer had Niki.
“My brother tells me you’re new to the neighborhood.” A tall, dark haired man fell into step beside Sawyer.
Sawyer dropped his latest load down on the growing stack. “Sawyer Smith.” He pulled off a glove to shake the man’s hand.
“Caleb Terrell.”
“Nice place you’ve got here,” Sawyer complimented, gazing around at the lush meadows, rolling hills and the Lyndon River winding its way into the lake below. Befriending the Terrells was an integral part of his plan. He couldn’t let Niki or anyone else be remotely suspicious of his reasons for being here. Luckily, Sawyer had enough money to temporarily buy a cattle ranch.
“We like it,” Caleb responded, pride clear in his tone. “The main house is south along the river. But Reed’s been planning this place for years.”
As they spoke, Reed made an appearance in the front yard, joking with the men who were setting up a gas barbecue. He wrapped one arm around a petite blonde woman and gave her a kiss.
“His wife?” Sawyer asked Caleb.
“Katrina.”
“Do they have enough kids to fill up this big house?” Sawyer asked in an effort to keep Caleb engaged in conversation.
“Not yet. Katrina’s a professional ballerina, so it may be a while before they start a family.”
From his research, Sawyer knew all about Katrina. Ironically, he’d seen her perform a few times in New York City. His family had a box at the Emperor’s Theatre.
Niki appeared in the distance, joining the gathering group. She spotted a man setting up a folding table and quickly stepped up to help. Together, they drew down the legs and settled it firmly on the uneven ground. She was small and slight, only about five foot three. Sawyer also knew she was twenty-one, and she was partway through an arts degree at GW.
Niki had been drop-dead gorgeous in every picture he’d ever been shown, stunningly glamorous, one of D.C.’s own princesses. But there was no glamour about her today. Not that she could hide her pretty features. The wispy, brunette hairstyle made her look younger, delicate, a bit of a waif. The blue jeans clung softly to her sexy bottom, while the serviceable T-shirt molded to her breasts, making it anything but plain.
“I can see the way you’re looking at my sister,” Caleb remarked, in a light, yet warning tone.
“Sorry.” Sawyer quickly shook himself. His mind didn’t usually wander like that, particularly when he was investigating. He didn’t know what was wrong with him.
But Caleb chuckled good-naturedly. “She’s a beautiful girl. Just remember she’s got two very protective big brothers in her life.” He left the thought unfinished.
“Noted,” Sawyer responded succinctly.
Caleb had absolutely nothing to worry about on that score. Niki might look sweet and innocent out here in the fresh air, but Sawyer knew what lurked beneath the facade. Niki was every bit as dangerous as her mother.
Both cunning and beautiful, Gabriella Gerard had used her persuasive charm and innate sensuality to get what she wanted from men who should have known better. She certainly wasn’t a call girl, but her many lovers were strongly rumored to be amongst the D.C. elite. They had showered her with gifts, money, stock tips and, most significantly, secrets.
It was rumored