Page 3 of The Billionaire Who Saved My Cat From The Mafia

“You’re damn right—it’smyprivate property!”She’s breathing heavily.I try not to focus my gaze on the rise and fall of her breasts or the way the muscles of her flat belly ripple.“And if you value your private parts, you’ll get back on your horse and get the fuck out of my space.”

CHAPTER 2

Frankie

I’ve been here one day.

One miserable day.

It’s not exactly the Ritz.

It’s not even a Motel 6.

It’s barely more than an outhouse.

But I thought it would at least serve a purpose, which was to bealone.

Alone,dammit!

A girl on the run is supposed to bealone.It’s the whole point of running!

This is all I get?All I’m allowed to have?Just a single, miserable day of solitude?Why is it so damned impossible for a woman to be alone?

I narrow my gaze at the behemoth standing next to his horse.His huge arms are extended in front of him, palms out as if he’s assuring me I have nothing to fear.

Riiiight.

His scowl carves deep creases in his brow, visible under his cowboy hat.But the scowl and the hat can’t hide the startling purple-blue of his eyes.I’ve never seen eyes like those.They look unnatural.

I don’t recognize him as one of Niko’s men, and that’s the most important thing.

And I’m absolutely sure I’ve never seen him before, anywhere, in any context.I’m an expert at remembering faces as a rule, but this face in particular?Seriously, if this guy ever crossed my path, he’d already be invading my dreams on the regular.

He’s that hot.

So, no.Never seen him before.

Which is good, because if Ididrecognize him, it would mean I’ve been found, which would mean I’m already in a world of hurt.

I can’t let that happen.I can’t let Niko track me down.It would be the end of me.

The axe is heavy, and I can’t get my hands to stop trembling, so the wood and iron are wobbling in my grip.It’s the adrenaline.I take a deep breath and try to get my brain to work.

So this dude doesn’t work for Niko, then who the hell is he?

If his body was less WWE-worthy, I’d think he was a country-western supermodel or a Nashville superstar.But he’s dressed like a ranch hand.An extremely handsome ranch hand.

Not that it matters who this sexy Stetson-wearing gym bro is.He’s as hot as a blow torch.He could easily become a distraction.He’s got to go.

“I saidstay back!”I raise the shaking axe.His scowl deepens and he takes a step toward me.

I force the panic from my brain and tell myself that he probably works for that ranch in the valley.From certain spots up here, I can look down on a huge spread.This guy must tend some of the cattle I’ve seen roaming around the area.

But if he’s a ranch hand, they sure outfit their employees with the finest of everything around here, because that giant Quarter Horse of his is worth a fortune.And even though it’s been a long time since I spent any time around horses, it’s impossible to miss the fancy, hand-tooled leatherwork of his custom-made saddle.

He takes another step in my direction.

That’s when I notice that the cowboy’s hair is the exact shade of strawberry blond as his horse’s.It’s too matchy-matchy to be a mistake.