Page 4 of The Billionaire Who Saved My Cat From The Mafia

I sniff the air.Under the notes of trail dust and horse sweat, I smell giant wads of cash.I can detect money from a mile away.It’s one of my many talents and one that has helped me achieve certain career goals working in Sin City.

More specifically, the career goals I set for myself while working at Lynx, the most exclusive “gentleman’s club” in Las Vegas.

The other Lynx dancers call me “Tits with Assets,” because of my investing success.One dancer said I should start an Only Fans empire.Like that would ever happen.

Not now, anyway.Not from up here.

“Back off!”I scream.

He inches closer.He doesn’t walk; he stalks like a panther.Agile.Dangerous.His power is restrained and controlled.I bet he could wrestle a longhorn to the ground with one arm tied behind his back.

There’s probably an audience for that in Vegas.What woman wouldn’t flock to a show starring Cowboy Eye Candy and a big, dangerous bull?There’s an audience for everything in Vegas.

I should know.

He’s still broadcasting his neutrality to me.Shoulders relaxed.Spine soft.Palms out.

He just can’t get rid of his scowl, though.Maybe that’s his baseline, which is probably for the best.Without it, I’d have to admit that he’s the most shockingly attractive man I’ve ever seen.

I feel the top few layers of terror dissolve.I start to breathe normally.Which gives me an opportunity to study him.

I can tell by the easy grace of his movements that he’s a man who lives fully in his body.Since I do the same, I can always spot the trait in others.This is a man who knows how to use his body and is well aware of its capabilities.

I bet he hasalotof capabilities.

I don’t trust those kinds of men.They’ve always got an agenda, and it’s usually one they don’t like to share.

The cowboy takes another step.My knuckles go white on the axe handle, and I lift the weapon over my shoulder.My triceps burn and the panic returns.I gulp down mouthfuls of thin air.

“You’ll regret this, asshole!”I yell.

He points to my pile of wood.“Won’t burn.”

“What?”

“Green.Not seasoned.”

I lower the axe.“What are you—some kind of socially awkward forest ranger?”

I detect a slight twitch of his mouth, but I see nothing in his eyes.They’re humorless and shut down.

“Rancher.Name’s Kevin MacLaine.You’re on MacLaine land.”

“I have no idea who those people are or what you’re talking about, but you’re wrong.Get lost.I have a gun and a deed to this place.”

He arches an eyebrow at me, the first outward sign of any kind of emotion other than the scowl.“Gun’s a smart move.There’s bobcats, black bear…”

“What the…?”

“And rattlesnakes, of course.”

I’m so pissed off I’m seeing spots.I don’t appreciate someone trying to scare me off the land that’s been given to me.Bears?What a crock of shit.There aren’t bears in Nevada!

Right?

“Get off my property.”

He looks down at his boots for a moment.He glances up and locks eyes with me again.“Sorry, but the deed’s worthless.You’ll need to pack up and leave.”