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  HERE TO STAY

  Debra Webb

  A note about the author:

  Though Debra Webb has earned a reputation for outstanding romantic suspense, she began her career with nearly a dozen sassy and spicy romances. For the first time these heartfelt romances are now available worldwide in e-book format. Previously published as a Kensington Precious Gems, available only in Wal-Mart for one short month, Debra is proud to present her beloved tales of romance.

  HERE TO STAY

  FREE FALLING

  TEMPTING TRACE

  UP CLOSE

  BASIC INSTINCTS

  KEEPING KENNEDY

  TAMING GI JANE

  GOING TO THE CHAPEL

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2011, WebbWorks, LLC

  First Printing: May 2000 Kensington Precious Gems

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  HERE TO STAY

  Debra Webb

  Chapter One

  Someone is in the house.

  Paige Weston stood absolutely still at the top of the staircase and peered down into the dark entrance hall. A cold shiver skated over her skin. Her heart pounding, she held her breath and focused on the sounds coming from her uncle’s kitchen. She heard footsteps, then the click of a switch. Light from the kitchen doorway sliced across the oak floor at the bottom of the stairs.

  She swallowed tightly as she summoned her shrinking courage. Stupidly, she had left the cordless phone from the bedroom in the kitchen. The only other telephone was on a hall table at the bottom of the stairs. Her cell phone was in the kitchen charging. If she knew where Robert kept the key to his gun cabinet, she could at least arm herself. But she didn’t. She had to get to a phone.

  The first step down the staircase proved the hardest, but she forced her feet to make the necessary movement. When she’d reached the bottom, she held her breath and listened again. The refrigerator door slammed shut with a rattle of glass and plastic. She frowned. What was the intruder doing? Having a midnight snack? As if on cue, the old grandfather clock struck the witching hour.

  Paige rounded the newel post, avoiding the sliver of light angling from the kitchen. Her gaze riveted to the open doorway, and she felt across the top of the hall table for the telephone. Knees weak and her body trembling, she fought the urge to run out the front door and leave the thief to have his way with Robert’s worldly possessions.

  Where is that blasted phone? Her hand bumped against a cold, smooth object. The flowers. Robert had left her flowers. Before she could catch it, the crystal vase tumbled off the table and crashed to the floor. Water splattered across her feet.

  For an instant Paige froze. Every rape or mugging victim she’d ever seen in the courtroom flashed through her mind. Heavy footsteps thudding across the kitchen floor urged her back into action. Still groping in the darkness, her hand brushed against the telephone. She curled trembling fingers around the receiver and lifted it. The familiar, reassuring dial tone sounded. Paige pressed the three buttons necessary just as a tall, dark figure filled the doorway, blocking the faint light from the kitchen.

  “Stop right there,” Paige commanded in a reasonably steady tone. “I’ve called 911.”

  “Trinity doesn’t have 911 at the moment,” came the deep, male response. Silhouetted by the dim light, it was impossible to see his face. “The system’s down.”

  The irritating, high-pitched tone coming from the receiver confirmed his statement. Paige dropped the useless instrument as a recorded voice came across the line telling her to dial the number again.

  No 911.

  How could that number be out of order? She couldn’t breathe. Forgetting the broken glass, she backed away from the dark, looming figure. Maybe staying all alone at Robert’s ranch hadn’t been such a good idea after all. And she thought stuff like this only happened in the city. What a great birthday this had turned out to be…

  Abruptly, the wall stopped her retreat. The intruder remained motionless and silent. Why didn’t he make a move? She shuddered at the thought that he was probably trying to decide what to do with her. Her mind raced. What should she do? Maybe he would just leave. He stood only a few feet from the front door. Leave, Paige willed silently. Though she had heard his voice, she couldn’t identify his face.

  Something clicked in her subconscious. She frowned and replayed the words he’d spoken, concentrating on the sound of his voice. Deep, smooth, masculine. She knew that voice. She slid her hand over the wall and flipped the switch, flooding the room with light. She blinked against the brightness and focused her gaze on the man standing before her.

  Nathan Blackrope.

  Paige fought the shock that threatened her already strained composure. Her mind reeled with long buried emotions, landing somewhere between relief and regret. Part of her wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him how glad she was to see him. But the other part of her, the saner part, wanted to run as fast as she could. She hadn’t been face to face with Nathan in almost five years. She had every intention of seeing him during her visit to Trinity. In fact, he was the real reason she had come. She just hadn’t expected to see him now, like this.

  She steeled herself against his presence. Unable to face him on a personal level just yet, she summoned her courtroom bearing and public defender attitude into place.

  Nathan moved his unreadable gaze slowly over her. She trembled beneath his scrutiny. He looked exactly the same. His gunslinger stance conveyed his almost cocky confidence. Nathan Blackrope wasn’t intimidated by anything or anyone. He stood strong and tall. His black hair, long and straight, was pulled into a loose ponytail. She knew from experience that all that blue-black hair would feel like silk slipping between her fingers. Inside, she trembled as the memories tumbled one over the other. If only she could forget.

  Paige allowed her gaze to meet his. Dark, searching eyes set in bronzed skin stared back at her. High cheekbones carved in a strong, angular face were emphasized by the hard set of his full lips. Even wearing that cold, steely expression he was still the best looking man she had ever seen. She swallowed back something that felt entirely too much like desire and focused her gaze on his black Apache eyes.

  “Breaking and entering is against the law, Mr. Blackrope.”

  “I have a key.”

  That raspy baritone sent a shiver of recollection over her. She’d spent the last four years or so trying her best to forget Nathan Blackrope. But she hadn’t forgotten him at all. She knew by heart every inch of his lean, muscular body. The wide breadth of shoulders that strained against the fabric of his black Western shirt. The long-fingered hands that were set firmly on the black denim covering his narrow hips. Paige didn’t have to look to know that he wore black cowboy boots as well. Black had always been Nathan’s signature color.

  She watched as he slid two fingers into the pocket of his jeans and fished out a brass key. To her chagrin, the key looked identical to the one she’d found on the ledge above the fro
nt door when she’d arrived this evening.

  “See.” He held out the key for her inspection.

  Paige smelled a rat. A rat named Uncle Robert. This was a set-up as sure as Nathan Blackrope was standing there looking lean, rangy and rugged. “Why do you have a key?” she asked, ignoring his outstretched hand. She wouldn’t touch those long fingers for a month in Tahiti with Johnny Depp.

  “Your uncle asked me to keep an eye on things while he honeymoons with his new wife. Neighbors do that kind of thing for each other in the country, or have you forgotten?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Nathan drew back his hand, his gaze swept over her once more as he waited for her response. She didn’t miss the sudden glimmer of masculine approval in his dark eyes.

  The thin white cotton tee she wore barely reached the tops of her thighs. She’d been in bed—asleep. A heated flush moved up her neck and into her face. The fact that her breasts had grown full and tight didn’t help. Nathan could plainly see how she responded to him. After all this time—after all that had happened—how could her rebellious body react with such desire to the man she’d worked so hard to hate?

  She crossed her arms over her tingling breasts. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here in the middle of the night.”

  Nathan’s lips curved in a knowing smile. “You rushed down here like that—” he gestured toward her scantly clad body—“to defend Robert’s home from an intruder?” He laughed, softly at first, and then the sound deepened, rumbling up from his chest.

  Paige swore silently. She hated that smile. Hated that laugh. She hated him. Well, maybe she didn’t hate him, but he infuriated her. How could she have ever imagined that any kind of agreement could be worked out with this man? “I asked you what you were doing here, Nathan Blackrope.”

  “I’ve been out,” he said, curbing his laughter to a smile that lifted only one corner of his mouth. “I wanted to check on the mares before I called it a night. Two of Robert’s mares are about to foal.” He shifted and raked his dark gaze over her again. “He never mentioned anyone else would be here.” He gave her a heart-stopping grin. “I was too busy to think about food earlier. I realized I hadn’t eaten and decided to raid the fridge.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I’m sure Robert won’t mind.”

  It was after midnight on Sunday night, Paige realized with sudden clarity. A sharp pang of jealousy stabbed at her as she considered that he’d probably been out with a woman. She gave herself a mental kick and forced away the unbidden envy of whoever had been in his arms tonight. She had thought herself over that hurt long time ago. Taking a determined step in Nathan’s direction, she held out her hand, concentrating hard to keep it steady.

  He glanced at her hand, then focused that intent gaze on her. “What?” he asked innocently.

  “The key. I’ll be staying until Robert and Ginny return from Vegas. There’s no need for you to concern yourself with anything around here.”

  “You’re staying here for two weeks?” His eyes mirrored the disbelief in his voice.

  “That’s what I said,” Paige returned hotly. ‘Robert’s having some redecorating done. The contractors start tomorrow and I’ll be seeing that everything runs smoothly.”

  Nathan pressed the key into her palm. His fingers lingered a little longer than necessary, sending a surge of heat through her that resurrected long denied feelings. Her insides quivered and Paige jerked her hand back. There had been a time when she would have given anything for Nathan’s touch, but not now. Not ever again. She hugged her arms around her middle and backed up the step she had taken. What she needed from him now had absolutely nothing to do with hormones.

  “I can’t believe your daddy let you leave Memphis,” he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

  She bristled, counted to ten before delivering a response. It didn’t help. “I do what I want to do. My father doesn’t run my life.”

  “Since when?” Nathan cocked his handsome head and laughed at her with his eyes. “You do whatever daddy tells you to do, Blondie. You always have.”

  Paige winced at his use of the pet name he had given her so long ago. No one else but Nathan had ever called her that. She didn’t want to hear it. And she sure didn’t want to feel what he was making her feel. She clenched her teeth and glared at him with every ounce of anger she could marshal. Her severe glare only served to earn her a slow, sexy smile that would have shaken her clean down at her boots had she been wearing any.

  “You don’t know anything about me anymore, Blackrope.” He was just as arrogant and hardheaded as she remembered. He hadn’t changed one iota.

  “Right.” He choked out on a thin laugh. “I know all I need to know.” Resentment, hard and bitter, pooled in his eyes.

  Unable to tolerate one more moment of the mounting tension, Paige marched to the door and jerked it open. Belatedly she considered how lucky she’d been to miss any shards of glass. “Good night, Mr. Blackrope.”

  Two excruciatingly long beats passed before he moved. And when he moved, her breath caught. He sauntered over to the door in that self-assured gait that made her heart thud. He stopped right in front of her and gazed down into her eyes. She inhaled his scent before she had the presence of mind to hold her breath. A wild, earthy essence mingled with the same enticing aftershave he had always worn. This close, she noticed the fine lines around his eyes that didn’t used to be there. Lines that spoke of hard work, fast living, and maybe too much personal loss.

  Every instinct urged her to run, but her heart wouldn’t let her. A gust of April’s cool, night air swept in through the door and made her shiver. The breeze sent a wisp of hair fluttering across her face, trapping itself against her lips.

  Gently, tentatively almost, he reached out and smoothed that loose tendril of hair back from her cheek. “You still look like Daddy’s little girl,” he murmured, his hand hovering near her face.

  “And you look like the same bitter man you were the last time I saw you,” Paige replied as close in the vicinity of calm as her emotions would allow. She wanted to shout at him but he suddenly covered her mouth with his own in a punishing kiss.

  Paige didn’t move—she didn’t dare. She couldn’t even close her eyes at first. She watched the pained expression that settled over his stony features as his firm lips ravaged hers. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that she had dreamed of being kissed by Nathan just one more time. And then she closed her eyes and surrendered to the kiss. Warmth glowed inside her as his mouth moved over hers. His tongue touched her lips then plunged into her mouth. He tasted of good Tennessee sipping whiskey, and Nathan—hot and demanding. He snaked his free arm around her waist and molded her from breast to thigh against his body.

  She squeezed her hands into fists at her sides. Her heart ached to touch him. His lean, hard body felt rigid, ready to snap, against her. Rage and resentment radiated from him like heat rising from the miles of concrete and asphalt in downtown Memphis. She knew it would only take one touch to break him. She’d give anything to put her arms around him right now and soothe the tautness away, but she couldn’t. God, she just couldn’t. To touch him would be to admit that she wanted this as much as he seemed to. And she could never do that. She moaned softly in spite of herself as his kiss hardened to a bruising intensity. A deep groan sounded from him, filling her, intensifying the need she wanted desperately to deny.

  Nathan tore his mouth from hers and glared down at her, his breath ragged. She wanted to look away, but his expression held her captive. It was the same fierce look he had worn when she had first met him as an unhappy, rebellious boy of ten fresh off the reservation.

  Then, in one slow, sensuous movement, he flicked his tongue over his lower lip and made a satisfied sound. “You still taste like daddy’s little girl.”

  Paige slapped him as hard as she could. Her fingers stung from the blow. Anger consumed everything else she’d felt or imagined she’d felt. “Get out of here before I call the police and have you
thrown in jail for assault.”

  Nathan grasped her chin in his hand and forced her to look him in the eye. “You were a willing participant.” A muscle in his jaw jerked. “You wanted that as much as I did.”

  “I don’t want anything from you,” she spat back, her anger a protection from the other dizzying emotions clutching at her. Paige twisted free and turned away from his haughty gaze. She stared at the dark night, waiting for him to storm out the door. He didn’t move. He remained so close she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

  “There was a time when you wanted all of me,” he whispered against her temple.

  “Please leave.” She tilted her head back and launched a warning glare. Swiftly changing emotions danced across his face before contempt took center stage.

  I’m going,” he muttered, and then pushed away from her. He walked out the open door without a backward glance.

  Paige sucked in a deep breath. This was a mistake. She should have known better than to think she could work out anything with him. Nathan stopped at the edge of the porch and shifted to face her. Tension outlined every angle of his powerfully built body.

  “I had a message on my answering machine about James. Seems he’s got a virus or something. Puking his guts out according to his wife.” He paused long enough for her to absorb the ramifications of his statement. “I’ll take care of his chores the next few days until he’s back on his feet.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Paige could certainly handle things if Robert’s ranch manager couldn’t work for a couple of days. “I can do whatever needs to be done myself.”

  “I have a feeling you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he said flatly.

  “I said I’d do it myself.”

  “There’s a lot more to it—”