Beautiful Dreamer with Bonus Material by Elizabeth Lowell Page A

friends.”
    “Hell. It’s just the truth. You should be glad I’m offering you more than a hundred dollars a fuck. I want you and I’m going to have you.”
    “I. Don’t. Want. You.”
    Turner laughed and shook his head. It took more than a few words to puncture his confidence.
    “Sure you do, baby doll,” he said, reaching for her. “But like I said, you just don’t want to admit it. Since you don’t believe me, I’ll just have to show you what I mean.”
    She blocked his grab by swinging the heavy wrench between them. He laughed and made another try for her. She leaped to the side and brought the wrench up again.
    “That’s it,” he said, his voice thickening with excitement. “I dream about your little hands clawing and fighting me.” He grabbed the wrench and held it despite her struggles. “Yeah. Good. God, it turns me on so hard I can’t think when a woman fights me. Remember?”
    Hope remembered all too well. She dropped the wrench, twisted out of his reach, and leaped into the cab. Her fist slammed down the lock on the door just as he grabbed the handle.
    Laughing, Turner bent to pick up the wrench. It wouldn’t take more than a moment to smash out the window. Just as his fingers closed around the cold iron handle, he heard the sound of a vehicle racing down into the valley at a speed too fast for the road.
    Assuming that it was one of his own men coming to check on the well, Turner straightened and turned toward the road, still smiling with anticipation of finally having Hope. His smile vanished when he spotted Hope’s own beat-up tan truck pulling a rooster tail of dust toward the stock tank. Mason was behind the wheel, driving like a maniac toward Behemoth.
    When she recognized the truck, a wave of relief swept through Hope that left her light-headed. Only then did she admit how much Turner frightened her. She was safe now. Mason was here. Mason wouldn’t let Turner near her.
    In the next heartbeat she knew that she couldn’t tell Mason what would have happened if he hadn’t arrived. He would lose his temper and jump Turner.
    She couldn’t let that happen. Mason would be beaten, and beaten badly. Turner liked using his huge strength on weaker people, hitting and hurting them with his thick hands.
    She remembered just how much he liked it.
    With an effort of will Hope forced her breathing to slow until her body relaxed and her hands stopped trembling.
    “Well, old man,” Turner said when Mason got out of the truck, “you finally hauled your lazy ass out of bed. I thought I was going to have to do all Hope’s work myself.”
    With eyes that were so narrow they showed almost no color, Mason gave the other man a contemptuous glance. Then Mason saw the wrench lying in the dust and Hope inside the water truck with the window rolled up and the door lock down. Blind rage shot through Mason, shaking him.
    “I’m here,” he said flatly. “I’m staying. We don’t need your help.”
    Turner smiled amiably. He was sure Hope meant yes even though she was saying no, but he didn’t necessarily want witnesses when he made her admit it. Theirs was a private fight. It was going to stay that way.
    His word against hers.
    “Then I guess I’ll get on back to the ranch.” Turner looked up at Hope as she opened the truck door. “See you real soon, baby doll. I’m looking forward to it.”
    “Good-bye.” Her voice was like her face, without expression.
    When he slammed the door to his Jeep and shot away from the well, Hope swung down from the cab and forced herself to smile at Mason.
    “Glad you stopped by,” she said casually. “It gets real boring just talking to a bunch of cows while the truck fills with water.”
    “Did that shit-eating coyote lay a hand on you?”
    “Nope,” she said honestly.
    What she didn’t say was that Turner had tried his best. If she had been any slower, she would have been on her back in the dirt.
    Mason waited for Hope to say more. He knew he was getting only