“Don’t Fight What You’re Feeling,” He Whispered Roughly.

Meredith heard Rey’s words as if through a fog, but her body obeyed him as he began to increase the teasing pressure of his mouth. She followed his lips and relaxed into the curve of his powerful body with a little shiver.

He devoured her mouth, tempting her until her mouth followed his, returning the arousing pressure. She could see the glitter grow in his narrow eyes, feel the grip of his lean hands as he pushed her hips against the sudden hardness of him. She gasped with embarrassment and then lost all sense of it as his mouth opened and pushed down hard against her parted lips, drowning her in passion.

It was like flying, she thought dazedly. He hesitated for an instant and her eyes opened, drowsy and curious. Her mouth was swollen, soft, tremulous. She looked at him with fascination, utterly helpless in his embrace.

“Why did you do that?” she asked huskily.

One dark eyebrow lifted. He didn’t smile. “Why did you let me?” he shot back.

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Silhouette Desire, where you can spice up your April with six passionate, powerful and provocative romances!

Beloved author Diana Palmer delivers a great read with A Man of Means, the latest in her LONG, TALL TEXANS miniseries, as a saucy cook tames a hot-tempered cowboy with her biscuits. Then, enjoy reading how one woman’s orderly life is turned upside down when she is wooed by Mr. Temptation, April’s MAN OF THE MONTH and the first title in Cait London’s hot new HEARTBREAKERS miniseries.

Reader favorite Maureen Child proves a naval hero is no match for a determined single mom in The SEAL’s Surrender, the latest DYNASTIES: THE CONNELLYS title. And a reluctant widow gets a second chance at love in Her Texan Tycoon by Jan Hudson.

The drama continues in the TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: THE LAST BACHELOR continuity series with Tall, Dark…and Framed? by Cathleen Galitz, when an attractive defense attorney falls head over heels for her client—a devastatingly handsome tycoon with a secret. And discover what a ranch foreman, a virgin and her protective brothers have in common in One Wedding Night…by Shirley Rogers.

Celebrate the season by pampering yourself with all six of these exciting new love stories.

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

A Man of Means

Diana Palmer

MILLS & BOON

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For Cissy at Writerspace, Sara, Jill and Celeste, and all

the wonderful readers, many of whom I was privileged to

meet in Atlanta in 2001 at our author tea, who visit me

online there at my Web site. Love you all. DP

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

One

Meredith Johns glanced around her worriedly at the out-of-control Halloween party-goers in their colorful costumes. Meredith was wearing an outfit left over from college days. She made a good salary at her job, but there was no money for little luxuries like Halloween costumes. She had to budget just to be able to pay the utility bill in the house she shared with her father.

The past few months had been traumatic, and the wear was telling on her. She needed to get out of the house, Jill, one of her colleagues, had said firmly—especially after her most agonizing experience at home. Meredith was reluctant. Her father was only just back at their house after three days. But Jill was insistent. So she’d put on the only costume she had, a bad choice in many ways, and walked the three blocks to her friend’s downtown apartment. She grimaced at her surroundings. What an idiot she’d been to come to this wild party.

But it really had been a tumultuous week for Meredith and she’d wanted to get her mind off her troubles. Her father’s violent behavior at the house they shared was unnerving. They were both still grieving, but her father had taken the tragedy much harder. He felt responsible. That was why a scholarly, conservative college professor had suddenly retired from his job and turned into an alcoholic. Meredith had tried everything she could think of to get him into treatment, but he refused to go on his own accord and the treatment facilities which would have taken him wouldn’t unless he went voluntarily. Only a violent episode that had landed him in jail had temporarily spared her of this saddening experience. But he was out three days later and he had a new bottle of whiskey. She still had to go home after the party. He’d warned her not to be late. Not that she ever was.

Her grey eyes were sad as she sipped her soft drink. She had no head for alcohol, and she was as out of place here as a cup of tea. Not only that, her costume was drawing unwanted attention from the men. So was her long blond hair. It had been a bad costume choice, but it was the only thing she had to wear on the spur of the moment. Going to a Halloween party in her street clothes would have made her stand out, too.

She moved away from a slightly tipsy colleague who wanted to show her around Jill’s bedroom and unobtrusively put her glass on a table. She found Jill, pleaded a headache, thanked her for a ‘‘good’’ time and headed out the front door as fast as she could. Once on the sidewalk, she drew in a long, sweet breath of fresh air.

What a bunch of wild people! She coughed delicately, remembering the unmistakable smell of that smoke that had been thick enough to obstruct clear vision inside. She’d thought it would be fun to go to a party. She might even meet a man who would be willing to take her out and cope with her father. And cows might fly, she told herself. She hadn’t been out on a date in months. She’d invited one prospective date to her home for supper. But after a good look at her father, who was mean when he drank, the prospective suitor took off. Her heart wasn’t in it, anyway. Recently she’d given up trying to attract anyone. She had her hands full already. Her grief was still fresh, too.

An odd noise attracted her attention as she started back toward her own house. She felt self-conscious in her getup, and remembering the lewd remarks she’d drawn from a man who was normally very polite and gentlemanly, she was sorry she hadn’t had a coat to wear. Her clothes were mostly old, because by the time she made the mortgage payment and took care of the bills, there wasn’t much left over. Her father couldn’t work and wouldn’t get help, and she loved him too much to desert him. It was becoming a costly proposition.

She wrapped her arms around herself and hoped she was covering up enough skin to discourage stalkers. But her skirt was very short and tight, and she was wearing fishnet hose, very high heels, a low-cut blouse and a flaming pink feather boa. Her blond hair was loose around her shoulders and she was wearing enough makeup to do justice to a ballet recital. She winced, hoping she hadn’t been noticed. She’d gone to the party as a burlesque dancer. Sadly she looked more like a professional hooker in her garb.

She rounded a corner and saw two shadowy figures bending over what looked like a man on the ground.

‘‘Hey! What do you think you’re doing there?!’’ she yelled, making as much noise as possible. Then she started running toward them and waving her arms, yelling threats as she went.

As she expected, the surprise of her aggressive presence shocked them into retreat. They jumped up and ran away, without even looking back. The best defense, she thought with faint amusement, was always a good offense. It was a calculated bluff, but she’d seen it work for women smaller in stature than she was.

She ran to the downed man and examined him the best she could in the dim glow of the streetlights.

Concussion, she thought, feeling his head and encountering a metallic smelling wetness. Blood. He’d been hit on the head by his assailants, and probably robbed as well. She felt around under the jacket he was wearing and her hand touched something small and square on his belt. She pulled it out.

‘‘Aha,’’ she said with a triumphant grin. A man dressed as well as he was could be expected to have a cell phone. She dialed 911 and gave the operator her location and the condition of her patient, staying on the line while the dispatcher got an ambulance en route.

While she waited for it, she sat down on the pavement beside the man and held his hand.

He groaned and tried to move.

‘‘Don’t do that,’’ she said firmly. ‘‘You’ll be okay. You mustn’t move until the EMTs get here. I haven’t got anything to treat you with.’’

‘‘Head…hurts.’’

‘‘I imagine it does. You’ve got a heck of a bump. Just lie still. Feel sick, sleepy…?’’

‘‘Sick,’’ he managed weakly.

‘‘Lie still.’’ She lifted her head to listen for the ambulance, and sure enough, a siren sounded nearby. The hospital was less than two blocks from her home, maybe four from here. Lucky for this guy, whoever he was. Head injuries could be fatal.

‘‘My…brothers,’’ the man was whispering brokenly. ‘‘Hart…Ranch. Jacobsville, Texas.’’

‘‘I’ll make sure they’re contacted,’’ she promised.

He gripped her hand, hard, as he fought not to lose consciousness. ‘‘Don’t…leave me,’’ he ground out.

‘‘I won’t. I promise.’’

‘‘Angel,’’ he whispered. He took a long, shaky breath, and went back into the oblivion he’d left so briefly. That wasn’t a good sign.

The ambulance rounded the corner, and the headlights spilled out onto Meredith and her patient. She got to her feet as two EMTs, one male and one female, piled out the doors and rushed to the downed man.

‘‘Head wound,’’ she told them. ‘‘Pulse is slow, but steady. He’s coherent, some nausea, his skin is cold and clammy. Blunt force trauma, probably mild concussion…’’

‘‘Don’t I know you?’’ the female EMT asked. Her face brightened. ‘‘Got you! You’re Johns!’’

‘‘That’s me,’’ Meredith said with a grin. ‘‘I must be famous!’’

‘‘Sorry, not you—your dad.’’ She winced at the look on Meredith’s face.

Meredith sighed. ‘‘Yes, he spends a lot of time on ambulances these days.’’

‘‘What happened here?’’ the woman asked quickly, changing the subject. ‘‘Did you see anything?’’

‘‘I yelled and scared off two guys who were bending over him,’’ she volunteered. ‘‘I don’t know if they were the ones who hit him or not. What do you think?’’ she added as the woman gave him a professional once-over.

‘‘Concussion, definitely,’’ she agreed. ‘‘Nothing broken, but he’s got a lump the size of the national debt here on his head. We’ll transport him. Coming along?’’

‘‘I guess I should,’’ Meredith said, waiting until they loaded him onto the gurney. He was still unconscious. ‘‘But I’m not exactly dressed for visiting a hospital.’’

The EMT gave her a speaking glance. ‘‘Should I ask why you’re dressed like that? And does your boss know you’re moonlighting?’’ she added wickedly.

‘‘Jill Baxley had a Halloween party. She thought I should come.’’

The other woman’s eyebrows levered up. ‘‘Jill’s parties are notorious for getting out of control. I’ve never even seen you take a drink.’’

‘‘My father drinks enough for both of us,’’ came the reply. ‘‘I don’t drink or use drugs, and I need my head examined for going to that party. I escaped early, which is how I found this guy.’’

‘‘Lucky for him,’’ the woman murmured as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance. ‘‘Judging by his condition, he could have died if he hadn’t been found in time.’’

Meredith climbed up into the back and sat down on the bench while the driver got in under the wheel and the female EMT called the hospital emergency room for orders. It was going to be a long night, Meredith thought worriedly, and her father was going to be very upset when she got home. He and her mother had been really close, but her mother had been fond of going to parties and staying out until the early morning; sometimes with other men. Recent events had made him dwell on that behavior. Her father seemed to have transferred that old contempt to her. It made her uneasy to think of arriving home in the wee hours. Anything could happen. On the other hand, how could she leave this man? She was the only person who knew who to contact for him. She’d promised to stay with him. She couldn’t let him down.

He was examined by the resident on duty in the emergency room, who diagnosed concussion. He’d been unconscious most of the way to the hospital, but he’d come out of it just once to look up at Meredith and smile, tightening his big hand around the fingers that were holding it.

His family had to be notified, and Meredith was coaxed into making the call to Jacobsville for the harassed and overworked emergency room staff.

She was given a phone and a telephone directory which also listed Jacobs County, of which Jacobsville was the county seat. She looked through it until she found a listing for Hart Ranch Properties, Inc. That had to be it.

She dialed the number and waited. A deep, drawling voice answered, ‘‘Hart Ranch.’’

‘‘Uh, I’m calling for a Mr. Leo Hart,’’ she said, having found his driver’s license in the wallet his assailants hadn’t had time to steal. ‘‘He’s at Houston General…’’

‘‘What happened?’’ the voice asked impatiently. ‘‘Is he all right?’’

‘‘He was mugged. He has a concussion,’’ she added. ‘‘He can’t give the staff any medical information…’’

‘‘Who are you?’’

‘‘I’m Meredith Johns. I work…

‘‘Who found him?’’

‘‘I did, actually. I called the ambulance on his cell phone. He said to call his brothers and he told me where they were…’’

‘‘It’s two o’clock in the morning!’’ the voice pointed out angrily.

‘‘Yes, I am aware of that,’’ she began. ‘‘It only happened a little while ago. I was walking down the street when I saw him on the sidewalk. He needs his family—’’

‘‘I’m his brother, Rey. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.’’

‘‘Sir, it’s a long way to Houston from where you are. If you drive that fast…!’’ she said at once.

‘‘We have an airplane. I’ll get the pilot out of bed right now. Thanks.’’ He added that last word as if it hurt him, and hung up.

Meredith went back to the waiting room. Ten minutes later, she was admitted to the room where the victim had been examined.

‘‘He’s conscious,’’ the attending physician told her. ‘‘I’m going to admit him overnight, just to be sure. Any luck with his family?’’

‘‘His brother is on the way, in his own plane, apparently,’’ she said. ‘‘I didn’t get a thing out of him. Sorry.’’

‘‘People get upset and they don’t think,’’ the resident said with a weary smile. ‘‘How about staying with him? We’re understaffed because of that respiratory virus that’s going around, and he shouldn’t be alone.’’

‘‘I’ll stay,’’ she said with a grin. ‘‘It’s not as if I have a hectic social life.’’

The resident pursed his lips and smirked at her outfit.

‘‘Halloween party,’’ she said, grimacing. ‘‘And next time I get invited, I’ll have a broken leg, I swear it!’’

Forty-five minutes later, there was a problem. It was six feet tall, had black hair and dark eyes and it erupted into the hospital cubicle like an F-5 tornado, dressed in jeans and boots and a fringed rawhide jacket thrown carelessly over what looked like a beige silk shirt. The wide-brimmed hat slanted over those threatening eyes was a Stetson, one of the most expensive made, with its distinctive feathered logo pin on the hatband. He looked impressively rich, and excessively angry.

The man was livid when he saw his big brother, still drifting in and out of consciousness, on the examining table. He gave Meredith a scrutiny that could have peeled paint off old furniture, his eyes narrowing contemptuously on her costume.

‘‘Well, that explains why you were on the street at two in the morning,’’ he snarled angrily. ‘‘What happened? Did you feel guilty and call for help after you tried to roll him?’’ he added sarcastically.

‘‘Look here,’’ she began, rising.

‘‘Save it.’’ He turned to the big man on the table and laid a lean, strong hand on his brother’s broad chest. ‘‘Leo. Leo, it’s Rey! Can you hear me?’’ he asked in a tone that combined affection with concern.

The big man’s eyes blinked and opened. He stared blankly up at the leaner man. ‘‘Rey?’’

‘‘What happened to you?’’ Rey Hart demanded gently.

Leo grinned wearily. ‘‘I was thinking about new forage grasses and wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings,’’ he murmured drowsily. ‘‘Something hit me in the head and I went down like a brick. Didn’t see a thing.’’ He winced and felt clumsily in his pockets. ‘‘Damn! My wallet’s gone. So’s my cell phone.’’

Meredith started to tell him that she had the phone and wallet in her purse for safekeeping, but before she could speak, Rey Hart gave her a furious, speaking glance and walked out of the cubicle like a man hunting a fight.

His brother drifted off again. Meredith stood beside him, wondering what to do. Five minutes later, Rey Hart walked back in accompanied by a tall man in a police uniform. He looked familiar, but Meredith couldn’t quite place him. She knew she’d seen him before.

‘‘That’s her,’’ Rey told the policeman, indicating Meredith. ‘‘I’ll sign anything necessary as soon as I see that my brother’s going to be okay. But get her out of here.’’

‘‘Don’t worry. I’ll handle it,’’ the policeman said quietly. He handcuffed Meredith with easy efficiency and pulled her out of the cubicle before she could protest.

‘‘I’m being arrested?’’ she exclaimed, stunned. ‘‘But, why? I haven’t done anything!’’

‘‘Yes, I know, I’ve heard it all before,’’ the officer told her in a bored tone when she tried to explain what had happened. ‘‘Nobody’s ever guilty. Honest to God, dressed like that, out on the streets alone after midnight, you were bound to be up to no good. What did you do with his cell phone and his wallet?’’

‘‘They’re in my pocketbook,’’ she began.

He confiscated it from her shoulder and propelled her out of the building. ‘‘You’re going to be in a lot of trouble. You picked the wrong man to rob.’’

‘‘See here, I didn’t mug him! It was two men. I didn’t see their faces, but they were bending over him as I came down the sidewalk.’’

‘‘Soliciting is a felony,’’ he pointed out.

‘‘I wasn’t soliciting anything! I’d just come from a Halloween party dressed as a burlesque dancer!’’ she raged, furious that she was being punished for having done someone a good turn. She read his name tag. ‘‘Officer Sanders, you have to believe me!’’

He didn’t say a word. He drew her with him, firmly but gently, and put her into the back seat of the police car.

‘‘Wait,’’ she told him before he could close the door. ‘‘You get my wallet out of my purse and look in it. Right now,’’ she insisted.

He gave her an impatient look, but he did what she asked. He looked through the plastic inserts in her wallet and glanced at her with a changed expression. ‘‘I thought you looked familiar, Johns,’’ he murmured, using her last name, as most people she knew at work did.

‘‘I didn’t mug Mr. Hart,’’ she continued. ‘‘And I can prove where I was when he was being mugged.’’ She gave him her friend Jill’s address.

He gave in. He drove to Jill’s apartment, went to the door, spoke to an obviously intoxicated and amused Jill, and came back to the squad car. He let Meredith out of the back of the squad car and took off the handcuffs. It was cool in the night air, and Meredith felt self-conscious and uncomfortable in her garb, even though the police officer knew the truth now.

‘‘I’m really sorry,’’ he told her with a grimace as he met her grey eyes. ‘‘I didn’t recognize you. All I knew was what Mr. Hart told me, and he was too upset to think straight. You have to admit, you don’t look very professional tonight.’’

‘‘I do realize that. Mr. Hart cares about his brother, and he doesn’t know what happened,’’ she pointed out. ‘‘He walked in and saw his brother on the table and me dressed like this,’’ she indicated her clothing, ‘‘and his brother said his wallet and cell phone were missing. He doesn’t know me from a stump. You can’t blame him for thinking the worst. But those two men who hit him would have gotten his wallet if I hadn’t come along, and they’re still on the loose.’’

‘‘Can you show me where you found him?’’ he asked.

‘‘Of course. It was just down the sidewalk, that way.’’

She led and he followed her, with his big wide-angle flashlight sweeping the sidewalk and the grass as they walked. She pointed to an area of flattened grass. He left her on the sidewalk and gave the area a thorough scrutiny, looking for clues. He found a candy wrapper and a cigarette butt.

‘‘I don’t guess you know if Mr. Hart smokes or likes candy?’’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘‘Sorry. All he told me was his brothers’ name and where they lived. I don’t know anything more about him.’’

He stood up. ‘‘I’ll ask his brother later. Wait here while I call for one of the technicians to bag this evidence,’’ he told her.

‘‘Okay,’’ she said agreeably, drawing the feather boa closer. It was getting cold standing around briefly clad, waiting for crime scene investigators. ‘‘Somebody’s going to love being turned out of bed to come look at a cigarette butt and a candy wrapper,’’ she stated with helpless amusement.

‘‘You’d be surprised at what excites those guys,’’ he chuckled. ‘‘Catching crooks isn’t exactly a chore to them. It’s high drama.’’

‘‘I hope they catch these two,’’ she said firmly. ‘‘Nobody should have to be afraid to walk down the streets at night. Even after dark, dressed like this, alone,’’ she added pointedly, indicating her clothes.

‘‘Good point,’’ he was fair enough to admit.

He called in his location and requested crime scene technicians. Meredith was ready to go home, but she couldn’t leave until she’d given the policeman a statement for his report. She sat in his car, with the overhead lights on, writing out what she knew of the attack on Leo Hart. It didn’t take long, because she didn’t know much.

She handed it back to him. ‘‘Can I go home now?’’ she asked. ‘‘ live with my father and he’s going to be upset because I’m coming home so late. I can walk. It’s only about three blocks from here.’’

He frowned. ‘‘Your father is Alan Johns, isn’t he?’’ he asked. His expression changed. ‘‘Do you want me to go with you?’’

She didn’t usually flinch at facing her irate parent. She was gutsy, and she could handle herself. But tonight, she’d been through a lot. ‘‘Would you?’’ she asked, uneasy because her fear was visible.

‘‘No problem. Get in.’’

He drove her to her house and went to the door with her. The house was dark and there was no movement inside. She let out a sigh of relief. ‘‘It’s okay. If he was awake, the lights would be on. Thanks, anyway,’’ she said with a smile.

‘‘If you need us, call,’’ he said. ‘‘I’m afraid I’ll be in touch again about this. Rey Hart already reminded me that his brother is our state attorney general. He’s not going to let this case go until it’s solved.’’

‘‘I don’t blame him. Those guys are a menace and they’re probably still running around looking for easy targets to rob. Take care.’’

‘‘You, too. And I’m sorry about the handcuffs,’’ he added, with the first smile she’d seen on his lean face since her ordeal began.

She smiled back. ‘‘My fault, for wearing a costume like this on the streets,’’ she admitted. ‘‘I won’t do it again. Thanks for the ride.’’

Back at the hospital, Rey Hart sat by his brother’s bedside until dawn, in the private room he’d obtained for him. He was worried. Leo was the hardiest one of the lot, and the most cautious as a rule. He was the prankster, always playing jokes, cheering them up in bad times. Now, he lay still and quiet and Rey realized how much his sibling meant to him.

It infuriated him that that woman had thought nothing of robbing his brother while he was sick and weak and helpless. He wondered what she’d hit him with. She wasn’t a big woman. Odd, that she’d been able to reach as high as Leo’s head with some blunt object. He recalled with distaste the way she’d been dressed. He was no prude, but in his early twenties he’d had a fling with a woman he later found out was a private call girl. He’d been infatuated with her, and thought she loved him. When he learned her profession and that she’d recognized him at once and knew how wealthy he was, it had soured him on women. Like his married brothers had been, and Leo still was, he was wary of females. If he could find a man who could bake biscuits, he told himself, he’d never let even an old woman into the house ever again.

He recalled their latest acquisition with sorrow. He and Leo had found a retired pastry chef who’d moved in with them—the last of the Hart bachelors—to bake their beloved biscuits. She’d become ill and they’d rushed to the drugstore to get her prescriptions, along with candy and chocolates and a bundle of flowers. But her condition had worsened and she’d told them, sadly, that the job was just too much in her frail state of health. She had to quit. It was going to be hard to replace her. There weren’t a lot of people who wanted to live on an isolated ranch and bake biscuits at all hours of the day and night. Even want ads with offers of a princely salary hadn’t attracted anyone just yet. It was depressing; like having Leo lying there under white sheets, so still and quiet in that faded striped hospital gown.

Rey dozed for a few hours in the deep night, used to sleeping in all sorts of odd positions and places. Cattle ranchers could sleep in the saddle when they had to, he thought amusedly, especially when calving was underway or there was a storm or they were cutting out and branding calves and doing inventory of the various herds.

But he came awake quickly when Sanders, the police officer who’d arrested that woman last night, came into the room with a murmured apology.

‘‘I’m just going off shift,’’ Officer Sanders told Rey. ‘‘I thought I’d stop by and tell you that we’ve gone over the scene of the attack and we have some trace evidence. The detectives will start looking for other witnesses this morning. We’ll get the people responsible for the attack on your brother.’’

Rey frowned. ‘‘Get ‘them?’’’ he queried. ‘‘You’ve already got her. You arrested her!’’

Officer Sanders averted his eyes. ‘‘Had to turn her loose,’’ he said uneasily. ‘‘She had an alibi, which was confirmed. She gave me a statement and I took her home.’’

Rey stood up, unfolding his intimidating length, and glared at the officer. ‘‘You let her go,’’ he said coldly. ‘‘Where’s my brother’s cell phone?’’ he added as an afterthought.

The policeman grimaced. ‘‘In her purse, along with his wallet,’’ he said apologetically. ‘‘I forgot to ask her for them when I left. Tell you what, I’ll swing by her house and get them on my way home…’’

‘‘I’ll go with you,’’ he said curtly. ‘‘I still think she’s guilty. She’s probably in cahoots with the guys who attacked Leo. And she could have paid someone to lie and give her an alibi.’’

‘‘She’s not that sort of woman,’’ the policeman began.

Rey cut him off angrily. ‘‘I don’t want to hear another word about her! Let’s go,’’ he said, grabbing his hat, with a last, worried glance at his sleeping brother. He wondered how the policeman could make such a statement about a woman he’d just met, but he didn’t really care. He wanted her in jail.

He drove his rental car, with the off-duty policeman beside him, to Meredith’s home, following the directions Officer Sanders gave him. It was in a run-down neighborhood, and the house was in poor condition. It only intensified Rey’s suspicions about her. She was obviously poor. What better way to get money than to rob somebody?

He went to the door, accompanied by the policeman, and knocked. Hard.

He had to do it three times, each with more force and impatience, before someone answered the door.

Meredith Johns was disheveled and white-faced. She was clutching a bulky washcloth to her face and wearing a robe over the clothes she’d had on the night before.

‘‘What do you want now?’’ she asked huskily, her voice slurred and jerky.

‘‘Been drinking, have you?’’ Rey Hart asked in a blistering tone.

She flinched.

Officer Sanders knew what was going on. He read the situation immediately. He stepped past Rey, grim and silent, grimacing when he saw Meredith’s face. He went by her and into the living room and began looking around.

‘‘Hard night, I gather? It must be a continual risk, in your profession,’’ Rey said insinuatingly, with a speaking glance at her dress in the opening of the old, worn robe. ‘‘Do your marks make a habit of beating you up?’’ he added with cold contempt.

She didn’t answer him. It was hard to talk and her face hurt.

Officer Sanders had gone into the bedroom. He came back two minutes later with a tall, disheveled but oddly dignified-looking man in handcuffs. The man, who’d been quiet before, was now cursing furiously, accusing Meredith of everything from prostitution to murder in a voice that rose until he was yelling. Rey Hart looked at him with obvious surprise. His eyes went to Meredith Johns, who was stiff as a poker and wincing every time the man yelled at her. The policeman picked up the telephone and called for a squad car.

‘‘Please, don’t,’’ Meredith pleaded, still clutching the ice-filled cloth to her face. ‘‘He’s only just got out…’’

‘‘He isn’t staying. This time, he’s going to be in jail for longer than three days,’’ the officer said firmly. ‘‘You get to the hospital and let one of the residents look at you, Miss Johns. How bad is it? Come on, show me,’’ he demanded, moving closer.

Rey stood by, silent and confused, watching as Meredith winced and moved the bulky cloth away from her face. His breath was audible when he saw the swelling and the growing purple and violet discoloration around her eye, cheek and jaw.

‘‘God Almighty,’’ Rey said harshly. ‘‘What did he hit you with?’’

‘‘His fist,’’ the policeman replied coldly. ‘‘And it isn’t the first time. You have to face facts, Miss Johns,’’ he told her. ‘‘He isn’t the man he used to be. When he drinks, he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’ll kill you one night when he’s like this, and he won’t even remember doing it!’’

‘‘I won’t press charges,’’ she said miserably. ‘‘How can I? He’s my father! He’s the only family I have left in the world….’’

The policeman looked at her with compassion. ‘‘You don’t have to press charges,’’ he told her. ‘‘I’ll provide them myself. You’d better phone your boss and tell him you won’t be in for a few weeks. He’ll have kittens if you walk into the office looking like that.’’

‘‘I suppose he would.’’ Tears ran down her pale cheeks, all the more eloquent for being silent. She looked at her raging, cursing father and sadness claimed her features. ‘‘He wasn’t like this before, honest he wasn’t,’’ she told them. ‘‘He was a kind, loving, caring man.’’

‘‘Not anymore,’’ Officer Sanders replied grimly. ‘‘Get to the hospital and have your face seen about, Miss Johns. I’ll take your father outside until the unit comes…’’

‘‘No,’’ she groaned. ‘‘Please, spare us that! I can’t bear to have the whole neighborhood watching, hearing him…like that, again!’’

He hesitated. ‘‘Okay. I’ll watch for them out the window. The unit can drop you by the hospital, since it’s going there first….’’

‘‘I’ll take her,’’ Rey said at once, without wondering why he should do such an about-face. He didn’t trust the woman, or even totally believe her story. But she did look so pitiful. He couldn’t bear to leave her in that condition to get to the hospital. Besides, whatever her motives, she had gotten help for Leo. He could have died if he hadn’t been cared for.

‘‘But…’’ she began.

‘‘If,’’ he added coldly, ‘‘you change clothes first. I am not being seen in public with you in that rig!’’

Two

Meredith wished she felt up to a fight. Her long blond hair was down in her face, her grey eyes were sparking fire. But she was sick to her stomach and bruised. She would rather have gone to bed if these stubborn men would just have let her alone. But her face could have broken or shattered bones. She knew that. She grimaced, hoping her insurance would cover a second ‘‘accident’’ in as many months.

When the unit arrived, Meredith turned away from the sight of her raging father being carried off and closed the door. Probably it wasn’t surprising to the neighbors anymore, it happened so often. But she hated having everyone know.

‘‘I’ll get dressed,’’ she said in a subdued tone.

Rey watched her go and then shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around the room. It was shabby. The only bright things in it were books—hundreds of them, in bookcases and boxes and stacked on tables and chairs. Odd, he thought. They were apparently short of cash, judging by the worn old furniture and bare floor. There was only a very small television and a portable stereo. He glanced at the CD case and was surprised to find classical music dominating the discs. What a peculiar family. Why have so many books and so little else? He wondered where the woman’s mother was. Had she left the father, and was that why he drank? It would have explained a lot. He knew about missing parents, especially missing mothers—his had left the family while the five Hart boys were young, without a backward glance.

Minutes later, Meredith came back, and except for the bruised face, he might not have recognized her. She was wearing a beige sweater set, with a tweed coat over it. Her blond hair was in a neat bun and her face devoid of makeup. She wore flat-heeled shoes and carried a purse that looked new.

‘‘Here’s your brother’s cell phone and his wallet,’’ she said, handing it to him. ‘‘I forgot to give them to Officer Sanders.’’

He glared at them and put them in his pocket. He wondered if she’d have given them back at all if he hadn’t come here. He didn’t trust her, regardless of what the policeman had said. ‘‘Let’s go,’’ he said stiffly. ‘‘The car’s outside.’’

She hesitated, but only for a minute. She wasn’t going to be able to avoid a checkup. She knew the problems that negligence could cause. Even a relatively minor problem could become major.

Unexpectedly Rey opened the car door for her. She slid in, surprised to find herself in a new luxury car. She fastened her seat belt. His brother, Simon Hart, was state attorney general. Rey owned a ranch. She remembered how his injured brother, Leo, had been dressed last night, and her eyes went to Rey’s expensive hat and boots and silk shirt. Of course, they were a wealthy family. Considering her state of dress—or undress—the night before, she could understand his misgivings about her character.

She sat wearily beside him, the ice-filled cloth still in her hand. She held it to the side of her face that was bruised and hoped that it would spare her some of the swelling. She didn’t need a doctor to tell her that it was a bad blow. The pain was almost unbearable.

‘‘I took a hit to the face a few years ago in a brawl,’’ he volunteered in his deep, slow drawl. ‘‘It hurt like hell. I imagine your face does, too.’’

She swallowed, touched by the faint concern. Tears threatened, but she never cried now. It was a weakness she couldn’t afford.

He glanced at her, puzzled. ‘‘Nothing to say?’’

She managed to get her voice under control. ‘‘Thank you for taking me to the hospital,’’ she said huskily.

‘‘Do you usually dress like that when you go out at night?’’ he asked belatedly.

‘‘I told you. There was…a Halloween party,’’ she said. It hurt to talk. ‘‘It was the only costume I had.’’

‘‘Do you like parties?’’ he asked sarcastically.

‘‘My first one…in almost four years,’’ she managed to say. ‘‘Please…hurts…to talk.’’

He glanced at her and then was quiet. He didn’t like her. He didn’t trust her. Why was he taking care of her? There was something unexpectedly vulnerable about her. But she had spirit.

He walked her into the emergency room. She filled out forms and was ushered back into a treatment cubicle while Rey sat in the waiting room between a squalling toddler and a man coughing his head off. He wasn’t used to illness. He’d never seen much of it, and he didn’t know how to cope with it. Accidents, sure, he was a good hand in an emergency, and there were plenty on a ranch. But he hated hospitals.

Meredith came back a good thirty minutes later with a prescription and a frown.

‘‘What did he say?’’ he asked conversationally.

She shrugged. ‘‘He gave me something…for pain,’’ she said, waving the prescription.

‘‘They sent me to a plastic surgeon,’’ he volunteered as they went through the automatic door.

She didn’t speak.

‘‘I had a shattered bone in my cheek that they couldn’t repair,’’ he persisted.

‘‘I’m not…going…to any damned…plastic surgeon!’’

His eyebrows arched. ‘‘Your face could be distorted.’’

‘‘So what?’’ she muttered, wincing because it really did hurt to speak. ‘‘It’s not…much of a face, anyway.’’

He scowled. She wasn’t pretty, but her face had attractive features. Her nose was straight and elegant, she had high cheekbones. Her mouth was like a little bow, perfect. Her eyes, big and grey, fascinated him.

‘‘You should go,’’ he said.

She ignored him. ‘‘Can you…drive me by the pharmacy?’’

‘‘Sure.’’

She gave him directions and he waited while she had the prescription filled. He drove her back to her house and left her there reluctantly.

‘‘I’ll be at the hospital with Leo if you need anything,’’ he said as if it pained him to say it.

“I don’t need any help. Thanks,” she added stiffly.

His eyebrows arched. ‘‘You remind me of me,’’ he murmured, and a thin smile touched his lips—a kind one. ‘‘Proud as Lucifer.’’

‘‘I get by. I really am…sorry about your brother. Will he be all right?’’ she asked at her door.

He nodded. ‘‘They want to keep him for two or three days. He’ll want to thank you.’’

‘‘No need. I would have done it for anyone.’’

He sighed. She was going to look bad for a long time, with her face in that condition. She’d been beaten and he felt responsible, God knew why. He took a breath. ‘‘I’m sorry I had you arrested,’’ he said reluctantly.

She pursed her lips. ‘‘I’ll bet…that hurt.’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘You don’t apologize much, do you?’’ she asked, as if she knew.

He scowled down at her, puzzled.

She turned away. ‘‘No sweat. I’ll live. So long.’’

She went in and closed the door. Rey, who’d done without companionship for a number of years, suddenly felt alone. He didn’t like the feeling, so he shoved it out of his mind and drove back to the hospital. He wouldn’t see her again, anyway.

Leo came back to himself with a vengeance late that afternoon. He had Rey lever the head of his bed up and he ate dinner with pure enjoyment.

‘‘It’s not bad,’’ Leo murmured between mouthfuls. ‘‘But I wish I had a biscuit.’’

‘‘Me, too,’’ Rey said on a sigh. ‘‘I guess we could buy a restaurant, as a last resort,’’ he added dejectedly. ‘‘One that serves breakfast.’’

‘‘Who was that woman who came in with me?’’ he asked Rey.

‘‘You remember her?’’ Rey was surprised.

‘‘She looked like an angel,’’ he mused, smiling. ‘‘Blond and big-eyed and all heart. She held my hand and sat down on the sidewalk in the cold and talked to me until the ambulance got there.’’

‘‘You were unconscious.’’

‘‘Not all the time. She even came in with me on the ambulance,’’ he said. ‘‘She kept telling me I was going to be all right. I remember her voice.’’ He smiled. ‘‘Her name was Meredith.’’

Rey’s heart jumped. He felt uneasy. Leo usually didn’t pay much attention to strange women. ‘‘Meredith Johns,’’ he agreed.

‘‘Is she married?’’ Leo asked at once.

Rey felt threatened; it irritated him. ‘‘I don’t know,’’ he said.

‘‘Do you think you could find somebody who knows how to get in touch with her?’’ his brother persisted. ‘‘ want to thank her for saving me.’’

Rey got up from the chair where he’d been sitting and walked to the darkened window, peering out through the blinds while he played for time. ‘‘She lives near the place where you were attacked,’’ he said finally, unable to lie.

‘‘What does she do for a living?’’

‘‘I don’t know,’’ Rey said, feeling uncomfortable. He couldn’t get her father’s accusing remarks out of his mind. She’d said she was dressed up for a party, she’d even found someone to give her an alibi, but Rey didn’t completely believe her. What if that whole defense was a lie? What if she was some sort of prostitute? He didn’t want his brother getting mixed up with a woman like that. He didn’t trust women, especially strange women. Then he remembered her poor, bruised face and he felt bad about his suspicions.

‘‘I’ll ask one of the nurses,’’ Leo said abruptly.

‘‘No need,’’ Rey told him. He turned back around with his hands in his pockets. ‘‘If you’re determined, I’ll go get her in the morning and bring her in to see you.’’

‘‘Why not tonight?’’

Rey let out an impatient breath. ‘‘Her father roughed her up because she got home late last night. I took her to the emergency room this morning before I came back here.’’

Leo’s eyes narrowed and went cold. ‘‘Her father beat her? And you took her back home to him?’’ he said angrily.

‘‘He wasn’t there. They took him off to jail,’’ he said. His face hardened even more. ‘‘She’ll have a hell of a bruise. They said she couldn’t go back to work for a few weeks.’’ He moved one shoulder restlessly. ‘‘Considering the way they live, I don’t know how she’ll manage,’’ he added reluctantly. ‘‘They don’t seem to have much. Apparently the old man doesn’t work and she’s the only one bringing home any money.’’ He didn’t volunteer his opinion of how she made it.

Leo leaned back against the pillows. His big frame was without its usual vibrance. His dark eyes were dull, and his lean face was drawn. His blond-streaked brown hair was unkempt, and looked odd in the back where they’d had to shave it to put stitches in. It was a reminder of how tricky head wounds were. Leo was very lucky not to have brain damage. Rey thought about the assailants and his eyes blazed.

‘‘I’m going to phone Simon tonight,’’ he told Leo. ‘‘I’m sure the local police will do all they can to catch the guys who waylaid you, but they’ll work even harder if they get a call from the state attorney general.’’

‘‘There you go again, pulling strings,’’ Leo mused.

‘‘It’s for a good cause.’’

‘‘Did you find my wallet and my cell phone?’’ Leo asked.

‘‘The woman had them. They’re in my pocket.’’

‘‘Good. I didn’t think she had anything to do with mugging me. Don’t forget your promise to bring Meredith here in the morning,’’ he said.

Now it was ‘‘Meredith.’’ Rey didn’t like the whole idea of having Leo around the woman, but he didn’t have a legitimate reason for keeping her from Leo’s side. It would sound even more suspicious if Rey started throwing out sarcastic remarks about her. Leo did love to pull his chain.

‘‘Okay,’’ he said reluctantly.

‘‘Good man,’’ Leo replied with a wan grin. ‘‘Nothing like family to look after you.’’

‘‘Next time, watch your back instead of daydreaming about forage grasses,’’ Rey said firmly. Then he leaned forward in the chair. ‘‘So, tell me what sort of grasses the Cattleman’s Association is advocating.’’

Rey got a hotel room near the hospital, so that he could have a bath and get some rest. The night staff had the phone number, so they could call him immediately if he was needed.

He phoned Simon before he went to bed.

‘‘Leo’s been mugged?’’ Simon exclaimed. ‘‘And you didn’t call me last night?’’

That tone was still intimidating, even though Rey was thirty-one. Simon was the eldest of the five brothers, and the bossiest, next to Cag.

‘‘I was too upset to phone anybody,’’ Rey returned, ‘‘and too busy trying to handle…another problem that cropped up. He’s all right. Honest. I didn’t find out until the early hours of the morning, and it’s been a long day. He was already out of danger before it occurred to me that I needed to let you know.’’

‘‘All right,’’ Simon said, sounding as if he was more relaxed. ‘‘Do they have a suspect?’’

‘‘No. I thought we did, but it turned out to be a dead end,’’ he added, without going into details about Meredith Johns. ‘‘There were two of them, and they haven’t been caught. It’s a miracle he wasn’t killed, and that they were stopped in time before they robbed him. You might give the local police chief a call. Just to let him know we’re all interested in solving the case.’’

‘‘You want me to use my influence for personal gain?’’ Simon drawled.

‘‘Hell, yes, I do!’’ Rey shot back. ‘‘This is our brother, for God’s sake! If a big, strong man like Leo can get mugged in a residential neighborhood, so can anybody else! It doesn’t say a lot for the security in this area.’’

‘‘No, it doesn’t,’’ Simon agreed. ‘‘I’ll point that out to the police commissioner, first thing tomorrow. Then I’ll run down to Jacobsville and get Cag and Corrigan and we’ll be right up to see about Leo.’’

Rey chuckled. It was the first bit of humor he’d felt so far. The five brothers rarely went so far as to gang up on people, but considering the size and reputation of them, they got results when they did. This was an emergency, anyway. They could have lost a brother. The perpetrators had to be caught.

‘‘They should be home by now,’’ Rey replied. ‘‘I couldn’t phone them because they were showing those Japanese businessmen around the ranch and the town.’’

‘‘I’ll see how much luck they had. Japan is very careful about its import beef. The fact that we run organically raised cattle will certainly go in our favor,’’ Simon said.

‘‘Yes, it will. Get some sleep. And don’t worry about Leo. He’s fine. I’d never have left the hospital if I’d had one doubt about that.’’

‘‘I’ll stop worrying.’’

‘‘Give my love to Tira and the boys,’’ Rey added.

‘‘I’ll do that. See you tomorrow.’’

Rey hung up, thinking about Simon and his family. Tira was redheaded and gorgeous, and the boys favored both of them, although they had Simon’s dark eyes and hair. Corrigan and Dorie had a boy and a girl. Cag and Tess had just a boy, but they were talking about how nice a daughter would be. Meanwhile, Rey and Leo enjoyed being uncles, but had no interest in joining the ranks of the married.

If it wasn’t for those biscuits, Rey thought miserably. It was going to be expensive to have the local café make biscuits for them every day until they employed a new biscuit maker, but if they got desperate enough, and offered enough of an incentive, they could probably manage it.

Turning his attention elsewhere, Rey gave a thought to poor Leo with his stitches and his headache, and another to Meredith Johns’s bruised face. Tomorrow, he’d have to deal with Leo’s request to see her, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. He wished he knew why.

Rey went to Meredith Johns’s house the next morning after he’d had breakfast. It took her a minute or two to answer the door, and for an instant, he thought that perhaps she might not be in any condition to answer it. She’d been badly bruised.

But she opened the door and peered up at him bravely, even though she looked like a refugee from a bar brawl. Her left eye was swollen shut completely now.

‘‘Leo wants to see you,’’ he said easily, noticing how the top of her blond head only came to his shoulder. She wasn’t tall. Even bruised, her face had a beautiful complexion. Her mouth was pretty. He shook himself mentally. ‘‘He wants to thank you for what you did. He remembers that you rode in on the ambulance with him. You didn’t tell me that,’’ he added with faint accusation.

‘‘I wasn’t thinking,’’ she said. ‘‘I was worried about what would happen when I came home late.’’

‘‘Have you heard any more about your father this morning?’’ he asked grimly.

‘‘They’re going to charge him with simple battery,’’ she said heavily. ‘‘I can’t afford a lawyer. He’ll have a public defender and he’ll probably have to stay in jail for a few weeks.’’ She looked up at him. ‘‘It will be a godsend, you know, because he’ll dry out completely.’’

He hated the compassion he felt. ‘‘Did your mother leave him?’’ he asked.

She averted her face. She couldn’t bear to talk about it yet. ‘‘In a way,’’ she said huskily. ‘‘Are you going to drive me?’’ she added, glancing at him over her shoulder. ‘‘The bus doesn’t run for another thirty minutes.’’

‘‘Sure,’’ he agreed.

‘‘Then I’ll get my jacket and purse.’’

She went into another room and came back quickly, leading the way out the door. ‘‘Is he conscious now?’’

‘‘Very,’’ he murmured dryly. ‘‘When I left him, he was telling a nurse what she could do with the wash basin, and how far.’’

She chuckled. ‘‘He didn’t seem like that kind of man,’’ she murmured. ‘‘I had him figured for a gentleman, not a renegade.’’

‘‘We’re all that kind of man,’’ he replied.

‘‘All?’’

He led her to the car and put her into the passenger seat. ‘‘There are five of us. The other three are coming up this morning to have a talk with the police.’’

‘‘I remember. You said that your brother was the attorney general.’’

‘‘He is,’’ he replied. ‘‘We tend to stick together.’’

Her eyes went to his hands on the steering wheel. He had nice hands, very lean and strong with neat, clean fingernails. He was a tough-looking man, like a cowboy.

‘‘How’s your face?’’ he asked unexpectedly.

She shrugged. ‘‘It still hurts. It will for a while, but I’ll be fine.’’

‘‘You should see that plastic surgeon.’’

‘‘Why?’’ she asked heavily. ‘‘My insurance won’t pay for cosmetic surgery, and there’s not much chance that they can do any major repair on tiny shattered bones.’’

‘‘You’re not a doctor. Stop giving yourself medical advice.’’

She stared at him for a long moment and started to speak, then lost the opportunity when he pulled up in the hospital parking lot, cut off the engine, and got out.

Rey waited for her and led her up to the floor where his brother’s room was located.

Leo wasn’t alone. Three other men were with him, one big and dark and missing an arm, the other lean and light-eyed and handsome, and a third big one with black eyes and a threatening face towering over both the others.

‘‘That’s Cag,’’ Rey indicated the black-eyed man. ‘‘Corrigan,’’ he nodded toward the light-eyed man, ‘‘and that’s Simon,’’ he finished, smiling at the one-armed man. ‘‘This is Meredith Johns. She rescued Leo.’’

‘‘Nice to see you and know who you are,’’ Leo said, alert now and interested as his dark eyes swept over the neat woman just inside the door. ‘‘Miss Johns, I presume?’’

She smiled self-consciously, because everybody was looking at her bruised face. ‘‘Yes,’’ she said.

Simon Hart frowned when he got a good look at her. ‘‘What the hell happened to you?’’ he demanded.

‘‘Her father,’’ Rey said for her. ‘‘She got in late and he beat her up.’’

Leo looked suddenly as intimidating as the other three. ‘‘Where is he?’’ he asked.

‘‘In jail,’’ Meredith said heavily. ‘‘For several weeks, at least, and he’ll have time to dry out.’’

‘‘Good.’’ Leo looked toward Simon. ‘‘Maybe you can find a way to get him into rehab before he gets out.’’

‘‘I’ll look into it,’’ Simon said at once.

‘‘And some counseling wouldn’t come amiss,’’ Rey put his two cents worth in.

‘‘I’ll see about that, too,’’ Simon replied. ‘‘Nice to meet you, Miss Johns. We’re all grateful for what you did for Leo.’’

‘‘You’re all very welcome,’’ she replied. She clutched her purse, intimidated by the group of brothers.

‘‘Come here,’’ Leo said, holding out his hand. ‘‘They’re big and they look tough, but they’re really marshmallows. You don’t have to feel threatened. I’ll protect you.’’

‘‘She doesn’t need protecting from us!’’ Rey snapped.

The others gaped at him. It wasn’t like Rey to act that way.

He cleared his throat. He didn’t want them asking themselves embarrassing questions about his attitude. He shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘‘Sorry. I didn’t sleep much last night,’’ he explained.

Meredith went to stand beside Leo, who took one of her small, cold hands in his and looked up at her with interest.

‘‘Have you seen a doctor?’’ he asked.

‘‘Your brother took me to the emergency room yesterday,’’ she said.

‘‘Rey. His name’s Reynard, but he’s called Rey,’’ Leo informed her.

She smiled. ‘‘You look much better today. Head hurt?’’

‘‘A bit, but my vision’s clear and I’m not disoriented,’’ he said, quoting the doctor. ‘‘I have a good prognosis.’’

‘‘That’s nice to hear. You were in pretty bad shape.’’

‘‘I’d have been in a lot worse shape, but for you,’’ Leo said. ‘‘I hear that you can’t work out in public for a while, until your face heals,’’ he added. ‘‘Can you cook?’’

She blinked. ‘‘Of course,’’ she said at once.

‘‘Can you make bread?’’

She frowned. ‘‘Bread?’’

‘‘More specifically, biscuits,’’ he added, and had the oddest expression on his face.

She shifted her purse in the hand he wasn’t holding. ‘‘Well, yes, those and rolls and loaf bread,’’ she said, as if everybody could do it.

Leo shot a glance at Rey, who was just staring at him without daring to say a word. He knew what was coming, and he couldn’t decide how he felt about it. He didn’t want to think about it.

‘‘How would you like a brief stay in Jacobsville, Texas, in a big sprawling ranch house where your only job would be to make biscuits every morning?’’ Leo asked with his best smile.

Rey and the other brothers were staring at her, waiting. She wondered why. And Rey was frowning, as if he didn’t like the idea at all. Probably he still secretly thought she was a hooker. He couldn’t seem to credit her with any sense of decency.

She thought about his attitude for a few seconds, and decided that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to take the job, and show him that you really couldn’t judge a book by its cover. It wouldn’t hurt that arrogant cowboy to be taken down a step or two, and she was just the girl who could do it.

She smiled. It hurt her face, but what was a little pain for a good cause? She turned back to Leo. ‘‘Mr. Hart, I think I’d like that job very much!’’

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