Carpathian 15 - Dark Secret

disgusting male chauvinistic behavior?" Colby's soft husky voice was nearly velvet, the delicate perfection of her face utterly still. Only her large eyes betrayed her mood. "Tell me we aren't talking about that De La Cruz, Paulo. Lie to me so I don't commit murder." Her brilliant eyes were fairly shooting sparks.
    "Well," he hedged, "it was Juan Chavez who brought the horses over, sixteen of them. We had to take them, Colby. He's paying top dollar and we need the money. You said your-self Clinton Daniels was pushing us about the mortgage."
    "Not their money," Colby snapped impatiently. "Never their money. It's conscience money, for their sins.
    We'll find other ways to pay the mortgage." She shook her head to clear it of the anger welling unexpectedly out of nowhere. Slamming her hat against her denim-clad thigh, she muttered unladylike things under her breath. "Juan had no right to offer you the horses behind my back." She glanced at her brother's miserable face and instantly the anger evaporated as if it had never been.
    She reached out to shove her hand affectionately through his jet black hair. "It isn't your fault. I should have expected something like this and warned you. Ever since that family showed up, that De La Cruz person has been nothing but trouble. I wrote the letter to the Chevez family for Dad nearly three years ago. Isn't it a blooming miracle they're finally getting around to answering it?" Colby swung around to face Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    the chestnut, watching it carefully with wary eyes. "This horse is probably their way of getting rid of me so they can have you. With me out of the way they might have a chance at taking you and Ginny with them back to their South American hell-hole. And robbing you of your inheritance while they're at it."
    Colby was short and slender with soft full curves, large deep green eyes fringed with lacy dark lashes, and an abundance of long silky hair. Shapely arms deceptively hid strong muscles. White scars marred the deep tan on her arms and on her small hands, showing the years of labor. Paul, watching the dimple melt into the corner of her mouth, felt a surge of pride. He knew how she hated her scars, her hands, yet they were so much a part of her. Unorthodox, free, untamable, so natural, there was no one like Colby.
    "They live on a multi-million-dollar ranch," Paul pointed out. "Posh. Probably a swimming pool, no work.
    Beautiful women. Sounds like a tough life to me. Maybe it's a conspiracy and I'm in on it."
    "Are you telling me you can be bribed?"
    He shrugged his wiry shoulders, winking at her with a little mischievous grin. "If the price is right you never know." He tried to waggle his eyebrows and failed. "You don't have to worry, Colby," Paul offered suddenly, "I don't think Mr. De La Cruz knew Juan brought the horses to us. In any case"—he shrugged pragmatically—"money's money."
    "So it is, my boy." Colby sighed.
    At seventeen Colby had shouldered sole responsibility for the ranch, her eleven-year-old brother, and six-year-old sister after a freak small plane accident had left their mother dead and Armando paralyzed.
    She had done so without a murmur of protest. Two years after the accident, her stepfather had insisted Colby write to his family inBraziland ask them to come out quickly. He had known he was dying and he had put aside his pride to ask for help for his children. No one had answered, and their beloved father had died surrounded by his children, but without his brothers and sisters. Now, at sixteen, Paul could appreciate what these last five years had cost Colby. He did his best to take some of the load from her, knowing, for the first time in his life, what it was like to really worry about someone else. Each time Colby was thrown from a horse, he found his heart beating overtime.
    Colby never complained, but he could see the signs of strain, the weariness growing in her. "You want to take a break? The sun's down," he suggested hopefully. No doubt Colby was bruised from head to toe.
    His eagle eyes noticed she was cradling her left arm.
    "Sony, hon." Colby shook her red head regretfully. "I can't let this one get the idea he's boss. Let's get back to it." Without a trace of fear she entered the corral and caught the reins of the huge animal.
    Paul watched her as he'd done a thousand times in the past, her small slender figure, fragile looking beside a half wild horse, yet totally