It wasn’t Tom’s first experience of handling big crocs. He had helped Blake to set up Sawtooth Park as a tourist and research venture. Tom still had shares in the park. They’d worked together until Tom decided that he preferred a career as a shire ranger. Not out of fear of the man-eaters, as Blake joshed Tom, but because spending his life hip deep in mud had turned out to have limited appeal.
Blake reveled in the life. At just over six feet, Blake was as tall as Tom, with hazel eyes, longish brassy-gold hair and a cowboy’s rangy build that belied his muscular strength.
Today, Tom welcomed the dirty, dangerous work and he wouldn’t be surprised if Blake had guessed as much before asking for his help. Finding out about the mortgage Max Horvath held over Diamond Downs had given him nothing but a colossal headache.
Shara’s refusal to stay with Des and Judy at the homestead wasn’t helping either.
The woman had as much of a death wish as Blake, Tom decided. Learning that Prince Jamal was so close by should have spooked her, but no, she had to prove she wasn’t afraid of her would-be fiancé, insisting on being driven back to the old cottage. Thinking of her alone there had kept Tom awake for a good part of the last two nights since the dinner with Des.
How long would it be before Jamal found out she was on Diamond Downs land? Staying with Des and Judy, she had some protection. On her own in the middle of nowhere, she had none.
Not that it was any concern of his, Tom assured himself. She might be a sloe-eyed beauty with more fire than most women he knew, but it didn’t mean he wanted to get any more involved with her problems. Driving by the old cottage and keeping an eye on her from a discreet distance yesterday was part of his job as a ranger, nothing personal.
Now all he had to do was convince his raging hormones.
Because worrying about her wasn’t all he’d done while lying awake long into the night. Part of the time was spent imagining her small, firm body pressed against him. In her own clothes, she’d looked every inch a princess, regal and untouchable. In Judy’s clothes, showing off that tantalizing flash of café au lait midriff, she’d made his mouth water.
Fear shot through him, and not because he stood within feet of an unseen crocodile. That kind of fear he could handle. The prospect of a serious relationship alarmed him much more. And in spite of his personal history, he wanted to be close to Shara.
Her pride, boldness and insistence on living her life her way no matter what the cost sent his blood pressure soaring higher than her beauty did, and that was fast enough.
In a matter of hours she’d slipped well and truly under his skin where she had no business being. No woman had. Leaving her alone at the old cottage had taken almost more grit than he possessed. Everything in him had urged him to follow her inside.
Maybe he should hope that Jamal would whisk her back to their magic kingdom, then she’d stop filling Tom’s thoughts.
He felt a sensation like a punch in his midsection, momentarily grabbing his breath. He didn’t like the idea of her returning to Q’aresh as Jamal’s bride. As anybody’s bride. Except maybe—
No, he halted the thought in its tracks. With his background, he wasn’t in the marriage market now or ever. The more attracted he was to Shara, the more reason he had to keep his distance, emotionally and physically.
Nobody said he had to enjoy it.
Blake turned from studying the muddy water. “You’re here because you’d rather wrestle an amorous crocodile than try to convince Max Horvath that the diamonds he’s so anxious to possess exist only in legend.”
Tom shot his foster brother a look that said “smart-ass.” But Blake was right. “Andy Wandarra has always said the mine is real and the elders of his clan knows how to locate it. Only the spirit of our great-grandfather keeps them from revealing the secret. If it’s true, Eddy Gilgai might be able to lead Horvath to the place.”
Blake used a long pole to probe among the reeds at the water’s edge. “Max must have promised him a lot to get him to betray his clan. Shows how strongly Max believes in the legend.”
Tom kept a wary eye on the deceptively still waters. “If he didn’t, he would have sold out right after his father died. This way he gets to stay in the area and keep looking.” He made a sound of annoyance. “He has a law degree. Why can’t he use it to fleece rich clients instead of harassing a sick man?”
Blake ventured ankle deep into the mud. Without turning, he said, “Max likes the idea of being a wealthy landowner. The trouble is, he has too much land and not enough wealth.”
“When did you get your psychology degree?” Tom’s tone was grudging but his foster brother’s assessment of their neighbor sounded valid. Max Horvath had never liked the demanding life of a cattleman. He and his father had fallen out because the younger man hadn’t wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. He’d been more interested in making money, but even law hadn’t made it as fast as Max liked to spend it. “If there really is a mine, why wasn’t it located long before this?”
“You know the taboos as well as I do,” Blake said.
“Yeah, yeah. Great-grandfather’s spirit haunts the place. That might have worked on the tribal people, but not on some of the current generation, like Eddy. Unless there’s nothing to be found.”
“Is that why you stopped looking?”
Blake’s casual question didn’t fool Tom. As boys, he and his foster brothers and Judy had talked about finding the mine and becoming rich beyond their wildest dreams. As Tom grew older, the dream had never completely died, although it had been pushed aside in favor of more grown-up pursuits.
“I stopped because I had more pressing things to do. What about you?” he asked Blake.
Before Blake could respond, the pool exploded into a mass of leathery scales and snapping jaws. Although he’d expected this, Tom’s heart slammed against his ribs and he stepped back instinctively.
Blake was ready. On the end of the pole was a catching rope that he looped expertly over the crocodile’s top jaw, settling it behind the strong back teeth before pulling it tight. His muscles bulged with the effort of keeping the rope taut as he hauled the creature out onto the bank.
Tom dodged the thrashing tail that could snap a man’s legs off, and waited for the right moment before throwing himself on the crocodile’s back, using brute strength to restrain the animal until it had expended its initial burst of energy. His job was to control the massive head while Blake draped a wet sack over its eyes, the darkness meant to have a calming effect.
Under him he felt the powerful saurian try to launch itself into the death roll crocodiles used to drown their prey. He kept his elbows locked and jammed against his sides, his splayed fingers gripping the torpedo-shaped body as he fought the movement. If he was tossed off before Blake got the croc’s massive jaws tied, they were both in trouble.
A croc could snap its jaws shut like a steel trap, but had little muscle strength to force them open, Tom knew. With Blake’s rope wound around its snout, the crocodile couldn’t do much damage.
He stayed put while Blake tied the animal’s back legs, before jumping clear and expelling a huge breath of relief. “I hope lover boy in the next pen is up to handling this lady. She’s got plenty of fight in her.”
“Delilah,” Blake supplied, looking at the crocodile with what Tom thought was almost fatherly pride. “I caught her near Three Rivers Crossing after she developed a taste for cattle. Don’t worry, Hambone can handle her. He’s sixteen feet of pure crocodile testosterone.”
Tom slanted his eyebrows upward. “Hambone? Let me guess, he likes wild pigs.”
“His favorite food.” Blake bent over the