In Bed With The Wrangler

Eight

Amber waited until they’d passed the lights of Stephanie’s yard and were headed down the dark, ranch driveway before turning to Royce in the pickup truck. “What did I do?”

“Nothing.” But his answer was terse, and she could tell he was upset. Their speed was increasing on the bumpy road, and she gripped the armrest to stabilize herself.

“I don’t understand. It’s good information. I don’t know if you realize how hard I had to dig-”

“Where did you get it? Where did you come up with the name Stanton?”

“Katie found a bank account in the Cayman Islands.”

Royce hit her with a hard glance, staring a bit too long for safety. “Who’s Katie?”

“Watch the road,” she admonished as a curve rushed up at them in the headlights.

He glanced back, but only long enough to crank the wheel. “Who is Katie?”

“She’s my best friend, my maid of honor.”

“I thought you weren’t getting married.”

“I’m not getting married.” Amber took a breath. “She would have been my maid of honor. She’s a lawyer. Her firm specializes in corporate espionage, but they investigate all kinds of criminal activity.”

Royce’s voice went dark. “McQuestin is not a criminal.”

“I never said he was.”

“You had no right to disparage a man’s name-”

“I didn’t disparage anything. Katie’s my friend. She works for Creighton Waverley Security, and she’s our lawyer now. Everything she finds out is confidential.”

Royce didn’t answer, but she could almost hear his teeth gritting above the roar of the engine and the creak of the steel frame as the truck took pothole after pothole.

“Who is Stanton?” she dared.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, face stony in the dim dashboard lights. “Nobody you need to worry about.”

Something inside Amber shriveled tight. She’d felt so close to Royce last night. Between lovemaking, they’d shared whispered stories, opinions, worldviews. She’d thought they were becoming friends.

“I have more,” she told him, not above bribery.

“What else?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Who’s Stanton?”

Royce glared at her. It was the first time she’d had his true anger directed at her. But she stiffened her spine. “Who is Stanton?”

“Forget it.”

“Why? Why won’t you let me help you?”

He geared down for a hill. “There are things you don’t understand.”

“No kidding.”

“No offence, Amber. But I barely know you.”

“No offence, Royce. But you’ve seen me naked.”

“And that’s relevant how?”

“I’m just saying-”

“That it’s not about to happen again unless I talk?”

“You think I’d use sex to bribe you?”

He let go of the steering wheel long enough for a jerking hand gesture of frustration. “Why do you jump to the absolute worst interpretation?”

“I’m trying to understand you.”

“Well, I’m not having the slightest success understanding you.” He sucked in a deep breath.

She let a few beats go by in silence, forcing herself to calm down. In her mind, this argument was completely separate from any future sexual relationship. She moderated her voice. “Maybe if you told me what was going on.”

“Maybe if you let me keep my private business private.”

Okay, now that crack would probably impact on their future sexual relationship.

“Fine,” she huffed. “There’s this numbered holding company.” She pulled a note from her pocket and checked it in the dim light. “One-four-nine-five-eight, twelve-zero-ninety-three is registered in Liechtenstein with bank accounts in Liechtenstein, Switzerland and Grand Cayman. Its only asset is a company called Eastern Exploration Holdings. Eastern Exploration owns several parcels of property, mostly in the Bahamas. It also owns one company, Sagittarius Eclipse. One-four-nine-five-eight, twelve-zero-ninety-three is solely owned by Norman Stanton.”

The truck rocked to a halt in front of the ranch house.

“His last known address was in Boston, Massachusetts,” Amber finished.

Royce killed the lights and turned the key, shutting down the engine. “You don’t know where he is now?”

“Not yet.” She yanked up on the door handle, and the door creaked wide.

“But you’re looking?” Royce followed suit.

“We’re looking,” said Amber, sliding off the high bench seat and onto the dirt driveway. She’d taken to wearing a pair of tattered, flat, canvas runners she’d found in a closet by the back door. They weren’t as sturdy as the cowboy boots favored by everyone else, but they beat the heck out of the high heels she’d arrived in.

“How long will it take?” he asked as they headed for the porch.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was still testy.

Royce frowned at her.

“It’ll take as long as it takes. He could be hiding. He might have left the country.” She headed up the stairs. “Maybe someone warned him McQuestin was hurt, and he’s worried he’ll get caught.”

“Who would warn him McQuestin was hurt?”

Amber paused at the front door. “Maybe McQuestin.”

Royce turned the knob and shoved open the door. “McQuestin wouldn’t do that.”

She walked inside. “You’re putting a lot of faith in a man who’s been authorizing secret payments.”

“He has his reasons.” The door slammed shut, and Royce moved up close.

Amber turned, then drew back from the intensity in his eyes.

He moved closer.

She stepped back again, coming up against the wall in the foyer.

He braced a hand on either side of her, dipping his head.

“Royce?”

“Yeah?” He kissed her, and her protest was muffled against his mouth.

He kissed her again, softer, deeper, and a flame of desire curled to life in the pit of her belly.

His hands cupped her chin, deepening the kiss, pressing his strong body flush against hers, evoking near-blinding memories of the night before.

“What are you doing?” she finally gasped.

“It’s not obvious?” There was a thread of laughter deep in his throat, his warm breath puffing against her skin.

“No.”

“Makeup sex.”

“But I’m still mad at you.”

“You are?” He feigned surprise as he kissed her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder. He found the strip of bare skin at the top of her jeans, skimming his knuckles across her navel. “Then let’s see what we can do to change that.”

Royce feathered his fingertips across Amber’s stomach, the narrowing at her waist, the indentation of her navel and the small curve of her belly. Her skin was pale and supple, a light tan line at bikini level, barely above where the sheet covered her legs.

She was by far the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her blond hair, mussed at the moment, was thick and lustrous, reflecting the pink rays of the rising sun. Her eyes were deep blue, a midsummer sky right now, but they’d been jewel bright last night while they made love. Her lips were full, deep red and tempting.

Even her ears were gorgeous, delicate and small, while her neck was graceful, her shoulders smooth, and her breasts were something out of his deepest fantasy. Add to that her quick wit, her intelligence and her sense of fun, and she was somebody he could keep in his bed for days on end.

He’d had sex with plenty of women over the years, slept with only some of them, ate breakfast with fewer still. And in all that time, he’d never had an urge to bare his soul to a single one.

Now, he did.

Now, he wanted to tell her anything and everything.

He let his fingers trace the curve of her hip bone, made up his mind and took the plunge. “My father killed a man named Stanton.”

Amber’s head turned sharply on the stark white pillow. “He what?”

“Killed him,” Royce repeated, hand stilling, cupping her hip.

“Was it an accident?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It was on purpose. Frank Stanton was having an affair with my mother.”

Amber’s eyes widened and she rolled sideways, propping her head on one elbow. “Did they get into a fight?”

“I guess you could say that. My father shot him.”

Amber stilled. The sun broke free from the horizon, and the pink rays morphed to white.

“Did your father go to jail?” Her voice was hoarse.

Royce shook his head. “He died that same day.”

Amber swallowed. “And your mother?”

“Died with my father. Their truck went off the ranch road in the rain. They both drowned in the river.”

“After he shot Stanton.”

“I always assumed he panicked.” Though Royce had never delved too deeply into his father’s possible motivations for speeding down the ranch road with his unfaithful mother. “There was no trial, of course. Everybody chalked the shooting up to a failed robbery, and the accident was ruled just that, an accident. For years, I thought I was the only one who knew the truth.”

“How did you know?”

“I found my mother’s confession letter.”

Amber sighed, eyes going shiny with sympathy. “Oh, Royce.”

“I burned the letter, and the secret was safe. But then, on his deathbed, my grandfather Benteen told Jared he’d heard the shot. When my father drove away, Benteen dumped the gun in the river because he didn’t want his son tried for murder.”

Royce had wished that Jared never found out. But now it was better that he had. “So, I know, and Gramps knew, and Jared knows.” Royce blew out a breath.

“Plus McQuestin,” Amber said softly, obviously putting the pieces together. “And somehow Norman Stanton.”

“Allowing him to blackmail my family.”

She lay back down. “To keep the secret?”

“Our reputation was important to Benteen.”

“But, millions of dollars’ worth of important?”

Royce had asked himself that same question, and he didn’t have a good answer. What the hell were Benteen and McQuestin thinking? His father couldn’t be tried. There wasn’t a man in the state who’d fault Royce’s father for retaliating against Stanton.

That left their mother’s reputation. And, as far as Royce was concerned, she’d made her own bed. He couldn’t imagine paying millions of dollars protecting a woman who’d betrayed her own family.

Well, from this point on, he and Jared were in charge, and not a single dime of Ryder money was getting into the hands of a Stanton.

“The payments stop now,” he vowed to Amber. “And I want to know everything there is to know about Norman Stanton.”

She put her hand on Royce’s shoulder. “You’re not going after revenge, are you?”

He turned his head to look her in the eyes. “I am going after my money.”

“Royce.”

He raised his eyebrows, all but daring her to argue.

She searched his expression. “I don’t want you to get yourself in trouble.”

His anger switched to resolve, and he couldn’t help but smile. Her sentiment was admirable, but completely unnecessary.

“Darlin’,” he told her. “If I was you, I’d be worried about Norman Stanton, not about me.”

Six worried Ryder International division heads stared back at Royce around the ranch house dining room table. The doors were closed to the rest of the house, but the windows were open, the happy sounds of an ongoing barbecue and baseball game a jarring counterpoint to the uncomfortable conversation.

If the four men and two women were unsettled by Barry Brewster’s firing, they were positively rattled by the potential fallout from the loss of the China deal. Ryder International was a strong company, but it wasn’t invincible. They were going to have to take quick and decisive action if they wanted to recover.

Jared was still out of touch, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the answer. Some of the Ryder companies would need to be sold, perhaps entire divisions, which explained the ashen faces around the table. Nobody wanted to be the sacrificial lamb.

“Construction is the bread and butter of the company,” Konrad Klaus opened the conversation. He was out-front and aggressive as always. As the head of the largest and longest-standing division of the corporation, he wielded considerable influence with his counterparts.

“It’s pretty shortsighted to mess with high tech,” Carmen Volle put in.

Mel Casper threw down his pen. “Oh, sure. Everybody look at sports and culture. It’s not always the bottom line, you know. We’re carrying the marketing load for everybody else.”

Royce cut them all off. “This isn’t divide and conquer,” he warned. “Jared’s not coming back to a war. I’ve got your reports-”

“We wrote those before we had the facts,” said Konrad.

Konrad’s respect factor for Royce had never been high. But it was rare that it mattered. It mattered today.

Royce gave him a level look. “Precisely why I asked for them up front. I wanted the facts, not half a dozen individual lobbying efforts.”

“So you can pick us off like fattened ducks?” asked Mel.

“That’s the attitude you want to project?” Royce needed loyalty and teamwork right now. He wasn’t looking to get rid of anybody else, but he wasn’t looking to babysit any prima donnas, either.

“I say we wait for Jared to get back,” said Konrad.

Royce turned to stare the man down. “What part of fifty million dollars didn’t you understand?

Konrad glowered but didn’t answer.

“We start today,” said Royce. He might not be as involved in the operations of Ryder International as Jared, but he was still an owner, and he’d had about enough of people assuming he could be marginalized.

Barry Brewster would never have treated Melissa the way he’d treated Amber. Just because Royce flew a jet didn’t mean he was incapable of anything else. Starting here and now, he was taking a stand-both with Norman Stanton, and with the brass at Ryder International.

“I don’t see how we do that.” Konrad tossed out a direct challenge to Royce’s leadership.

“Did this company turn into a democracy when I wasn’t looking?” Royce asked softly.

“Our loyalty is to Jared.”

“Your loyalty should be to Ryder International.”

Konrad compressed his lips. The rest of the division heads looked down at the table. Royce realized it was now or never. He had to firmly pick up the corporate reins.

“I’m hiring an expert to do a review,” he announced, having made a split-second decision.

The group exchanged dubious glances, but nobody said anything.

“Creighton Waverley Security.”

“You think we’re criminals?” Konrad thundered across the table.

“I think they’re one hell of a research firm,” Royce countered calmly. “We’re going to review every company we own, take stock and make our decisions. Anybody who’s not on board with it is free to leave.”

He looked to each of the people in turn around the table. Nobody was happy, but nobody was walking away, either.

Now that he’d taken the first step on the fly, he supposed the second step had better be to have Amber put him in touch with her best friend’s firm.

Amber helped a waiting group of children into the back of the wooden wagon, while a Ryder cowboy double-checked the harnesses on the matched Clydesdale team out front. Sasha was handing out giant chocolate chip cookies while, off to one side, Wesley was teasing Stephanie with his lariat. Amber did a double take of the two. If she wasn’t mistaken, Wesley had developed a crush on his riding instructor.

She smiled to herself. Wesley was a very attractive, fun-loving man. It wouldn’t surprise her in the least if the crush was reciprocated.

“I have to talk to you.” The mere sound of Royce’s voice behind her caused a little thrill to zip through Amber’s body. But in contrast to Wesley, Royce sounded tense and serious.

“Something wrong?” She helped the last little boy into the wagon, dusting her hands off on the sides of her jeans.

Royce moved to the corner of the wagon and pushed up the tailgate, sliding the latch to keep everyone safely inside.

Stephanie planted a foot on the wagon wheel and jumped in with the kids. Wesley quickly followed suit, taking a seat next to her on one of the padded benches, and Amber was sure she’d guessed right.

Royce backed out of the way, towing Amber with him as a cowboy unhitched the lead horse and turned the team toward the road.

“I’ve been meeting with the division heads,” said Royce.

“What did you find out?” Amber had realized Royce and the senior managers were missing, and she’d easily guessed they were talking business. She raised her hand to wave to the cheering children as the wagon creaked down the road.

Royce pulled her toward the shadow of the barn, speaking low into her ear, his voice bringing flash memories of their night together. “I was wondering if you could do something for me.”

“I don’t know, Royce.” She glanced around at the crowds. “There’s an awful lot of people in the barn right now.”

“You have a one-track mind,” he admonished.

She grinned at him. She did seem particularly obsessed with making love.

“Not that I’d say no to a more interesting offer,” he clarified. “But I was hoping to get in touch with your friend Katie. I need to know the who’s who of Creighton Waverley.”

The request brought Amber back to reality. “I thought you were going to let me investigate Norman Stanton.”

“What?”

“I’m doing a good job,” she informed him, pursing her lips.

Royce suddenly grinned.

“What?”

“You. Jumping to conclusions.”

“Quit laughing at me.”

“Then stop being so entertaining.”

“Stop being condescending.”

“Stop pouting.”

“I like investigating. I want to see this through.”

Royce’s smile turned sly, and he cocked his head meaningfully toward the barn. “Yeah?” he drawled.

“Now who’s got a one-track mind?”

“Guilty,” he agreed with an easy smile, but at the same time, he backed off.

A cheer went up at the baseball game, while a freshening breeze brought the aroma of hamburgers from the cook tent.

Amber brushed at a lazy fly.

“I’m commissioning a review of all the Ryder companies,” said Royce. “We’re going to have to make some tough decisions, and I thought Creighton Waverley might be able to help.”

“So, I’m keeping my job?”

He brushed the back of his hand along her upper arm and leaned closer again. “Now that remains to be seen.”

“I’m not bribing you with sex.”

He exaggerated an offended tone. “I’d bribe you with sex.”

She extracted her cell phone from her jeans pocket. “I’m bribing you with Katie’s phone number.”

“Fair enough. I’ll bribe you for something else later.”

Amber couldn’t help but smile as she punched in Katie’s cell number.

“Amber,” came the breathless answer. “I was just about to call you. Are you at a hoedown or something?”

Amber glanced around for the source of a noise that might have made it through the phone. “What makes you ask that?”

“Checked tablecloths, cowboy hats, horses.”

Amber glanced down at her phone, then put it back to her ear. “Do you have some kind of monitor on me?”

“No, I have a white Lexus, over in front of the house. At least I think it’s the house. The building with the porch and, yep, it’s a hitching rail.”

Amber whirled around.

Sure enough, Katie was emerging from a low-slung sports car, wearing a short, blue, clingy dress, high-heeled pumps, with her honey-blond hair in a jaunty updo. Her small bag was beaded, and she reminded Amber of how long it had been since she’d had a manicure or a facial.

Amber took a reflexive step away from Royce. “What are you doing here?”

“I have to talk to you.”

“That’s what telephones are for.” A sudden fear gripped Amber. “There’s nobody with you, is there?” Like Hargrove or her parents.

“Relax,” said Katie as she picked her way along the edge of the baseball field. “Your secret is safe.” She grinned and gave Amber a wave.

Several dozen cowboys followed her progress.

“That’s Katie,” Amber told Royce.

“She does know how to make an entrance,” he muttered, watching as raptly as anyone else on the ranch.

Amber felt an unwelcome pinch of jealousy.

“Who’s that with you?” asked Katie as she drew ever closer.

“Royce Ryder.”

“Nice.”

Okay, jealousy was silly. Katie was an attractive woman, and Royce was an attractive man. They’d noticed. So what?

“Do you have any idea how far away this place is?” Katie called across the grass, folding her phone closed now that she was in shouting range.

“It’s Chicago that’s far away,” Royce countered. “Montana is right here.”

Katie grinned as she stepped up, holding out her perfect, magenta-tipped hand. “Katie Merrick. Creighton Waverley Security.” She shook, then opened her purse, dropped the phone inside and extracted a business card, handing it to Royce.

“I was about to call you,” said Royce.

“Well, isn’t that perfect,” Katie returned, glancing around the ranch yard. “Any chance they’re serving margaritas at this shindig?”

It was a slow walk back to the ranch house, where Sasha whipped up a blender of margaritas while Amber, Royce and Katie settled in on the deck. Gopher immediately jumped into Amber’s lap.

“You’ll want Alec Creighton’s help,” said Katie. She’d been all business while Royce had explained his plans for Ryder International.

“Your boss?” asked Royce as he poured the frozen green concoction into tall glasses.

“My boss’s son. He’s not with Creighton Waverley. He’s sort of a lone-wolf troubleshooter. We subcontract to him on occasion. I can give you a list of a hundred satisfied clients if you like.” Katie accepted the drink with a nod of thanks.

“How do I get hold of him?” Royce handed Amber a drink. She still couldn’t believe Katie had come all the way to Montana. And since they’d done nothing but discuss Ryder International business since she’d arrived, Amber couldn’t begin to guess why she’d come all the way to Montana.

“I’ll get him to call you.” Katie took a sip of her drink. “He won’t take on a client without a referral.”

“Appreciate that,” said Royce with a salute of his drink.

Amber couldn’t keep quiet any longer, and her voice came out more demanding than she’d intended. “What are you doing here, Katie?”

Katie shrugged. “I missed you.”

It didn’t ring true. There was something in Katie’s eyes-guilt, maybe fear.

Amber was suspicious. “Did you tell my parents I was here?”

“I can’t believe you’d even ask me that. Can’t a girl visit her best friend?” Katie took another swig, smiling far too brightly. “Okay if I stay over tonight?”