The Detective's Undoing. Jill Shalvis

      Him. She worried about him.

      Silently cursing her sisters’ good humor—which had included this so-called riding lesson, courtesy of one Cade McKnight—she shifted in her saddle and looked into Cade’s mischievous eyes. As always, her heart skipped a beat, which annoyed her since her heart never skipped a beat over something as simple as a male.

      “You’re not paying attention,” he said. “You’re letting that horse have her way.”

      “I am not.” But good old Betsy betrayed her, bending her long neck down to graze. Delia turned away from Cade’s laughing gaze, trying to no avail to pull on Betsy’s reins.

      The horse continued to graze peacefully.

      “Try harder. With authority.”

      Delia did…and broke a nail. She gritted her teeth and pulled harder.

      Chewing complacently, Betsy twisted her neck and gazed balefully at Delia, but when she finished her mouthful, she didn’t go for more. Instead, she shifted, as if considering taking off for a nice long run.

      Delia’s eyes widened slightly, her only concession to alarm. “Stop,” she demanded of the suddenly restless Betsy, the gentlest horse on the Triple M.

      Cade reached over and stroked Betsy’s nose. “Shh, baby, it’s okay.”

      “I know I’m okay.” Delia said. “Talk to the horse!”

      “I was.” Cade grinned when Delia made a sound of frustration. “But you’re looking pretty okay, too. Baby.”

      She rolled her eyes and looked away. Anywhere but at Cade.

      They were still on Triple M property, but far enough from the house and barns that the vast land before her felt like another world. The hills were dotted with early frost, and the Salmon River raged more loudly than her thoughts. There wasn’t a freeway, let alone a car, in sight. No smog, no sirens, nothing. And to make it worse, she was sitting on a horse. A horse, for God’s sake.

      She missed her city.

      Cade’s lips curved as he tipped his head, studying her. A lock of wavy dark hair fell into his eyes, eyes that always seemed to see right through her icy calm to the Delia she didn’t want exposed.

      “You’re thinking of your message,” he said.

      “Humph.”

      “The judge finally reviewed your request for custody of Jacob. You have a hearing set for next month.”

      Her greatest hope and terror all mixed into one. Oh, she definitely wanted Jacob, but what made her think Jacob wanted her?

      Cade was watching her closely now, and she returned his stare with one of her own. He was tall and built like an athlete, with powerful muscles born more from physical labor than any gym. With the sun behind him, every one of those muscles was outlined beneath his dark T-shirt, along with the ones in his long legs, which were encompassed in faded snug denim. And every one of those muscles was tense as he sat in the saddle looking at her. “This is good news, remember?”

      “Of course.”

      He bent closer, peering into her face. “Then where’s the smile?”

      Baring her teeth, she gave the smile her best shot.

      His big body shifted back, but he still watched her with that probing gaze.

      As if he knew.

      She assured herself that her secret fear was safe. No one must know that she was afraid and ashamed that she might be found lacking, not good enough to gain custody of her half brother.

      But as she looked into Cade’s melting brown eyes, eyes that were filled with questions, she swallowed hard.

      She could trust him.

      The thought came from nowhere and was quickly squelched.

      With one click of his tongue, Cade moved his horse right next to hers. “Why were you crying last night?” he asked bluntly.

      She closed her eyes, blocking out the pretty but too-cool autumn sun, the breeze and his too-curious gaze.

      “Was it Jacob?”

      She didn’t—couldn’t—answer.

      “You don’t have to go meet him alone,” Cade said as if she’d responded. “Your sisters—”

      “It’s too expensive.” And none of them had a spare cent to their name. “And then there’s the upcoming opening. Plus, we’ll have guests soon.”

      “You need support for this.”

      “I can handle it.” She could handle anything.

      “So strong.” He gave her a look that said he saw right through her. “You can do it all, right?”

      “Yes.”

      He shook his head. “No one is that strong.”

      “I am.”

      He stared at her until she felt that odd fluttering in her stomach. It annoyed her since she could see nothing in his gaze but his irritation at the worry he didn’t want to feel for her.

      It was ironic that once upon a time she’d wished for a prince to solve all her problems, but life had taught her the hard way that she needed to be self-reliant—at all times. She would handle this, by herself.

      And besides, Cade was no prince.

      “Delia—”

      “Look, I don’t know why you won’t just drop it.” She felt more desperate than ever, but her voice was sure and calm. Her voice was always sure and calm, thanks to years of practice.

      “I can’t,” he said with real regret.

      “Why?”

      “Because I can’t shake the feeling that…that you need me.”

      She managed to laugh at that and toss her head. “I don’t need anyone, Cade, especially you.”

      “Yeah. I can see that.” Not a man to hide his feelings for anyone, his voice was tight. She’d stirred his male pride.

      In a way, Delia admired him for showing her that. With Cade, she never had to guess what he was thinking, not when his face expressed every emotion, even when he obviously didn’t want to feel that emotion.

      What would it be like not to worry what people thought? To just be? Delia didn’t have a clue. She’d been playing at being strong and independent for so long she no longer knew how to do anything else.

      “It’s not a bad thing, needing someone,” he said after a long moment, and because she’d often wondered about that very thing, she closed her eyes.

      She thought she felt a light caress in her hair, but when she opened her eyes again, he held his reins in one hand, the other lay on his thigh.

      It must have been the wind, she decided.

      Cade was a man seemingly at rest. Yet power and restless energy emanated from him in waves. There was a dangerous edge to Cade McKnight, one she didn’t understand. For all his casual smiles and laughter, there remained a part of him always prepared for anything. Maybe it was the bright day or the isolation, but she thought she saw a surprising depth to that edge now, and it made her take a good long look at him.

      He looked back just as steadily, without a hint of discomfort.

      Hurt, she realized, startled. He was hiding a wealth of hurt, just beneath his rough surface, and this unexpected side to the man she’d thought of only as a pain-in-her-own-rear was unsettling.

      She looked away first.

      The day around them was gloriously white, green, blue—a whole array of colors so brilliant that her eyes welled with stinging tears. It almost hurt