In Bed With The Wrangler

Two

“Who was that?” Stephanie’s voice startled Royce as he watched Amber exit the lounge on her father’s arm.

Tearing his eyes from the supple figure beneath the gold-and-red dress, he turned to face his sister. Stephanie looked young and unusually feminine in her ice-pink, strapless, satin bridesmaid dress. It had a full, flowing, knee-length skirt and a wide, white sash that matched her dangling, satin-bead earrings.

“Are all women crazy?” he asked, trying to recall the last time he’d seen Stephanie in anything other than riding clothes.

“Yes, we are,” she answered without hesitation, linking her arm with his. “So you probably don’t want to upset us. Like, for example, turning down our perfectly reasonable requests.”

Royce sighed, steering her back to the table as he pushed the bizarre conversation with Amber out of his mind. “What do you want, Steph?”

“A million dollars.”

“No.”

“Hey,” she said, sliding into Amber’s vacated seat as the cocktail waitress removed the empty martini glass. She kicked off one sandal and tucked her ankle under the opposite thigh on the roomy chair. “I’m a woman on the edge here.”

“On the edge of what?” He pushed his half-full drink away. Had Amber’s text message been an elaborate joke? If so, how warped was her sense of humor?

“Sanity,” said Stephanie. “There’s this stallion in London.”

“Talk to Jared.” Royce wasn’t getting caught up in his sister’s insatiable demands for her jumping stable.

“It’s Jared’s wedding night. He already went upstairs. You’re in charge now.”

Royce glanced at his watch. “And you think I’m a soft touch?”

“You always have been in the past.”

“Forget it.”

“His name’s Blanchard’s Run.”

“I said forget it.” He had time for maybe four hours of sleep before he had to get to the airport and preflight the jet.

“But-” Stephanie suddenly stopped, blinking in surprise as she glanced above his head.

“I sent it,” came a breathless voice that Royce already easily recognized.

He jerked his head around to confirm it was Amber.

“Sent what?” asked Stephanie.

Amber’s jewel-blue eyes were shining with a mixture of trepidation and excitement.

She hadn’t.

She wouldn’t.

“Where’s your father?” asked Royce. Was this another warped joke?

“He left. I told him to send the limo back for me later.”

Royce shook his head, refusing to believe any woman would do something that impulsive. “You did not send it.”

But Amber nodded, then she glanced furtively around the lounge. “I figure I have about ten minutes to get out of here.”

“What did you send?” Stephanie demanded. “To who?”

Amber slipped into the vacant third seat between them and leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I broke off my engagement.”

Stephanie looked both shocked and excited. She reached for Amber’s hand and squeezed it. “With who?”

“Hargrove Alston.”

“The guy who’s going to run for the Senate?”

Royce stared at his sister in astonishment.

“I read it in People,” she told him with a dismissive wave of her hand. Then she turned her attention back to Amber. “Is he mad? Is he after you now?”

“He’s in Switzerland.”

“Then you’re safe.”

“Not for long. As soon as Hargrove reads my text, he’ll call my dad, and my dad will turn the limo around.”

Stephanie’s lips pursed into an O of concern, and her breath whooshed out.

Amber nodded her agreement, and both women turned expectantly to Royce.

“What?”

“We have to go,” said Stephanie, her expression hinting that he was a little slow on the uptake.

“To Montana,” Amber elaborated.

“Now,” said Stephanie with a nod of urgency.

“They’ll never think to look for me in Montana,” Amber elaborated.

“I’m not taking you to-”

But Stephanie jumped up from her chair. “To the airport,” she declared in a ridiculously dramatic tone.

“Right.” Amber nodded, rising, as well, smoothing her sexy dress over her hips as she stood on her high heels.

“Stop,” Royce demanded, and even the laughing women at the table next to them stopped talking and glanced over.

“Shh,” Stephanie hissed.

Royce lowered his voice. “We are not rushing off to the airport like a bunch of criminals.”

Stephanie planted both hands on the tabletop. “And why not?”

“Six minutes,” Amber helpfully informed them.

He shot her a look of frustration. “Don’t be such a wimp. If he yells at you, he yells at you.”

Amber’s brows rose. “I’m not afraid he’ll yell at me.”

“Then, what’s the problem?”

“I’m afraid he’ll talk me out of it.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re a grown woman. It’s your life.”

“It is,” Amber agreed. “And I want to come to Montana.”

The look she gave him was frank and very adult. Perhaps his first instinct had been right. Maybe there was something between them. Maybe he was the reason she’d made the decision to finally dump the loser fiancé and move on.

He felt a rush of pride, a hit of testosterone and, quite frankly, the throb of arousal. Having Amber around would definitely make Montana more palatable. Only a fool would put barriers in her way.

He stood and tossed a couple of twenties on the table. “The airport, then.”

Since he’d had the martinis, it would be a few hours before he could fly. But there was plenty to do in preparation.

By the time they arrived at the Ryder Ranch, Amber had had second, third, even fourth thoughts. Both her father and Hargrove were powerful men. Neither of them took kindly to opposition, and she’d never done anything remotely rebellious in her life.

Hargrove was probably on a plane right now, heading back to Chicago, intending to find her and demand to know what she was thinking. And her father was likely out interrogating her friends this morning, determined to find out what had happened and where she’d gone.

Katie would be flabbergasted.

Amber had been questioning her feelings for Hargrove for a couple of months now, but she hadn’t shared those fears with Katie. Because, although Katie was a logical and grounded lawyer, she was saddled with an emotional case of hero worship when it came to Hargrove. She thought the sun rose and set on the man. She’d never understand.

Amber had sent her father a final text last night from the airport, assuring him that he didn’t need to worry, that she needed some time alone and that she’d be in contact soon. Then she’d turned off her cell phone. She’d seen enough crime dramas to know there were ways to trace the signal. And Hargrove had friends in both high and low places. Where the police couldn’t accommodate him, private investigators on the South Side would be happy to wade in.

The sun was emerging from behind the eastern mountains as Amber, Royce and Stephanie crossed the wide porch of the Ryder ranch house. She was dead tired but determined to keep anyone from seeing her mounting worry.

In the rising light of day, she admitted to herself that this had been a colossally stupid plan. Her father and Hargrove weren’t going to sit quietly and wait while she worked through her emotions. Plus, she had nothing with her but a pair of high heels, her cocktail dress and a ruby-and-diamond, drop necklace with a set of matching earrings.

And of all the nights to go with a tiny pair of high-cut, sheer panties-sure, they smoothed the line of her dress, but that was their only virtue.

“You heading home?” Royce asked his sister as he tossed a small duffel bag onto the polished hardwood floor, against the wall of a spacious foyer.

“Home,” Stephanie echoed, clicking the wide double doors shut behind her. “I can grab a couple hours’ sleep before class starts.”

Amber turned to glance quizzically at Stephanie. “Home?” She’d assumed they were already there. The sign on the gate two miles back had clearly stated Ryder Ranch.

“Up to my place.” Stephanie pointed. “I’ve got students arriving this afternoon.”

“You don’t live here?” Amber kept her voice even, but the thought was unsettling. Sure, Royce was the brother of her father’s business associate, but he was still a stranger, and there was safety in numbers.

Stephanie was shaking her head. “They kicked me out years ago.”

“When your horses took over the entire yard.” Royce loosened his tie and moved out of the foyer. He’d changed out of his tux at the airport in favor of a short-sleeved, white uniform shirt and a pair of navy slacks.

Stephanie made to follow him into a massive, rectangular living room with a two-story, open, timber-beamed ceiling and a bank of glass doors at the far end, flanking a stone fireplace. Amber moved with her, taking in a large, patterned red rug, cream and gold, overstuffed furniture groupings and a huge, round, Western-style chandelier suspended in the center of the room.

“You want me to show Amber a bedroom?” asked Stephanie. She was still wearing her bridesmaid dress.

“She’s probably hungry,” Royce pointed out, and both looked expectantly at Amber.

“I’m…uh…” The magnitude of her actions suddenly hit Amber. She was standing in a stranger’s house, completely dependent on him for food, shelter, even clothes. She was many miles from the nearest town, and every normal support system-her cell phone, credit card and chauffeur-were unavailable to her, since they could be traced.

“Exhausted,” Stephanie finished for her, linking an arm with Amber’s. “Let’s get you upstairs.” She gently propelled Amber toward a wide, wooden staircase.

“Good night, then,” Royce called from behind them.

“You look shell-shocked,” Stephanie whispered in her ear as they mounted the staircase.

“I’m questioning my sanity,” Amber admitted as the stairs turned right and walls closed in around them.

Stephanie hit a light switch, revealing a half-octagonal landing, with four doors leading off in separate directions.

“You’re not insane,” said Stephanie, opening one of the middle doors.

“I just abandoned my fiancé and flew off in the middle of the night with strangers.”

“We’re not that strange.” Stephanie led the way into an airy room that fanned out to a slightly triangular shape.

It had a queen-size, four-poster brass bed, with a blue-and-white-checked comforter that looked decadently soft. Two royal blue armchairs were arranged next to a paned-glass balcony door. White doors led to a walk-in closet and an ensuite bath, while a ceiling fan spun lazily overhead and a cream-colored carpet cushioned Amber’s feet.

Stephanie clicked on one of two ceramic bedside lamps. “Or do you think you’re insane to leave the fiancé?”

“He’s not going to be happy,” Amber admitted.

“Does he, like, turn all purple and yell and stuff?” Stephanie looked intrigued and rather excited by the prospect.

Amber couldn’t help but smile. “No. He gets all stuffy and logical and superior.”

Hargrove would never yell. He’d make Amber feel as though she was a fool, as though her opinions and emotions weren’t valid, as though she was behaving like a spoiled child. And maybe she was. But at least she was out of his reach for a little while.

“I hear you.” Stephanie opened the double doors of a tall, cherrywood armoire, revealing a set of shelves. “My brothers are like that.”

“Royce?” Amber found herself asking. In their admittedly short conversation Royce hadn’t seemed at all like Hargrove.

“And Jared,” said Stephanie. “They think I’m still ten years old. I’m a full partner in Ryder International, but I have to come to them for every little decision.”

“That must be frustrating.” Amber sympathized. She had some autonomy with her own credit cards and signing authority on her trust fund. She’d never really thought about independence beyond that.

Well, until now.

“There’s this stallion,” said Stephanie, selecting something in white cotton from the shelves. “Blanchard’s Run, out of Westmont Stables in London. He’s perfect for my breeding program. His dam was Ogilvie and his sire Danny Day.” She shook her head. “All I need is a million dollars.” She handed Amber what turned out to be a cotton nightgown.

“For one horse?” The price sounded pretty high.

“That’s mine,” said Stephanie, nodding to the gown. “You should help yourself to anything else in the dresser. There’s jeans, shirts, a bunch of stuff that should fit you.”

“If it’s any consolation,” said Amber, putting her hand on Stephanie’s arm, “I can’t see Hargrove ever letting me spend a million dollars, either.”

“And that’s why you should leave him.”

“I’m leaving him-” Amber paused a beat, debating saying the words out loud for the first time “-because I don’t love him.”

Stephanie’s lips formed another silent O. She nodded slowly for a long moment. “Good reason.”

Amber agreed.

But she knew her parents would never accept it. And it wasn’t because they had some old-fashioned idea about the value of arranged marriages or about love being less important than a person’s pedigree. It was because they didn’t trust Amber to recognize love one way or the other.

And that was why Amber couldn’t go home yet. Nobody would listen to her. They’d all gang up, and she’d find herself railroaded down the aisle.

As usual, it was frighteningly easy for Royce to slip back into the cowboy life. He’d stretched out on his bed for a couple of hours, then dressed in blue jeans, a cotton shirt and his favorite worn cowboy boots. Sasha had quick-fried him a steak, and produced a big stack of hotcakes with maple syrup. After drinking about a gallon of coffee, he’d hunted down the three foremen who reported directly to McQuestin.

He’d learned the vet had recommended moving the Bowler Valley herd because seasonal flies were impacting the calves. A well had broken down at the north camp and the ponds were drying up. And a lumber shipment was stuck at the railhead in Idaho because of a snafu with the letter of credit. But before he’d had a chance to wade in on any of the issues, an SOS had come over his cell phone from Barry Brewster, Ryder International’s Vice President of Finance, for a letter from China’s Ministry of Trade Development. The original had gone missing in the Chicago office, but they thought Jared might have left a copy at the ranch.

So Royce was wading through the jumble of papers on the messy desk in the front office of the ranch house, looking for a letter from Foreign Investment Director Cheng Li. Without Cheng Li’s approval, a deal between Ryder International and Shanxi Electrical would be canceled, costing a fortune, and putting several Ryder construction projects at risk.

Giving up on the desk, and cursing out his older brother for falling in love and getting married at such an inconvenient time, Royce moved to the file cabinet, pulling open the top drawer. His blunt fingers were awkward against the flimsy paper, and the complex numbering system made no sense to him. What the hell was wrong with using the alphabet?

“The outfit seems at odds with the job duties,” a female voice ventured from the office doorway.

He turned to see Amber in a pair of snug jeans and a maroon, sleeveless blouse. Her feet were bare, and her blond hair was damp, framing her face in lush waves. There was an amused smile on her fresh, pretty face.

“You think this is funny?” he asked in exasperation.

“Unexpected,” she clarified.

“Well, don’t just stand there.”

“Should I be doing something?”

He directed her to the desktop. “We’re looking for a letter from the Chinese Ministry of Trade and Development.”

She immediately moved forward.

“Do you know what it looks like?” she asked, picking up the closest pile of papers.

He grunted. “It’s on paper.”

“Long letter? Short letter? In an envelope? Attached to a report?”

“I don’t know. It’s from Cheng Li, Foreign Investment Director. I need his phone number.”

She moved on to the next pile, while Royce went back to the filing cabinet.

“Have you tried Google?” she asked.

“This isn’t the kind of number you find on the Internet.”

She continued sorting. “I take it this is important?”

“If I don’t get hold of him today, we’re going to blow a deal.”

“What time is it in China?”

“Sometime Monday morning. Barry says if the approval’s not filed in Beijing by the end of business today, we’re toast.”

“Their time?” Amber asked.

“Their time,” Royce confirmed. “What the hell happened to the alphabet?”

She moved closer, brushing against him. “You want me to-”

“No,” he snapped, and she quickly halted.

He clamped his jaw and forced himself to take a breath. It wasn’t her fault the letter was lost. And it wasn’t her fault that his body had a hair-trigger reaction to her touch. “Sorry. Can you keep looking over there? On the desk?”

“Sure.” Her features were schooled, and he couldn’t tell if she was upset.

“I didn’t mean to shout.”

“Not a problem.” She turned back.

He opened his mouth again, but then decided the conversation could wait. If she was upset, he’d deal with it later. For now, he had three more drawers to search.

“Something to do with Shanxi Electrical?” she asked.

Royce’s head jerked up. “You found it?”

She handed him a single sheet of paper.

He scanned his way down to the signature line and found the number for Cheng Li’s office. “This is it.” He heaved a sigh, resisting the urge to hug her in gratitude.

Then he took in her rosy cheeks, her jewel-blue eyes, her soft hair and smooth skin. The deep colored blouse molded to her feminine curves, while the skintight blue jeans highlighted a killer figure. There was something completely sexy about her bare feet, and he had to fight hard against the urge to hug her.

“Thanks,” he offered gruffly, reaching for the phone.

He punched in the international and area codes, then made his way through the rest of the numbers.

After several rings, a voice answered in Chinese at the other end.

“May I speak with Mr. Cheng Li?” he tried.

The voice spoke Chinese again.

“Cheng Li? Is there someone there who speaks English?”

The next words were incomprehensible. He might have heard the name Cheng Li, but he wasn’t sure.

“English?” he asked again.

Amber held out her hand and motioned for him to give her the phone.

He gave her a look of incomprehension while the woman on the other end tried once more to communicate with him.

“I’m sorry,” he said into the phone, but then it was summarily whisked from his hand.

“Hey!” But before he could protest further, Amber spoke. The words were distinctly non-English.

Royce drew back in astonishment. “No way.”

She spoke again. Then she waited. Then she covered the receiver. “Your phone number?” she whispered.

He quickly flipped open his cell to the display, and she rattled something into the phone. Then she finished the call and hung up. “Cheng Li will call you in an hour with an interpreter.”

“You speak Chinese?” was all Royce could manage.

She gave a self-deprecating eye roll. “I can make myself understood. But for them, it’s kind of like talking to a two-year-old.”

“You speak Chinese?” he repeated.

“Mandarin, actually.” She paused. “I have a knack.” When he didn’t say anything, she bridged the silence. “My mother taught me Swedish. And I learned Spanish in school.” She shrugged. “So, well, considering the potential political impact of the rising Asian economies, I decided Mandarin and Punjabi were the two I should study at college. I’m really not that good at either of them.”

He peered at her. “You’re like a politician’s dream wife, aren’t you?”

Her lips pursed for a moment, and discomfort flickered in her eyes. “Are you saying I have no life?”

“I’m saying he’s going to come after you.” Royce put a warning in his tone. “I sure as hell wouldn’t let you get away.”

She blinked, and humor came back into her blue eyes. “I doubt I’d make it very far from here. After all, there is only one road out of the ranch.”

Royce wasn’t in the mood to joke. “He is going to come after you, isn’t he?”

She sobered. “I don’t think he’ll find me.”

“And if he does?”

She didn’t answer.

“What’s the guy got on you?”

From what Royce could see, Amber was an intelligent, capable woman. There was no reason in the world for her to let herself get saddled with a man she didn’t want.

“Same thing Jared has on you,” she answered softly. “Duty, obligation, guilt.”

“Jared needs me for a month,” said Royce, not buying into the parallel. “What’s-his-name-”

“Hargrove.”

“Hargrove wants you forever.” Royce felt a sudden spurt of anger. “And where the hell are your parents in all this? Have you told them?”

“They think he’s perfect for me.”

“He’s not.”

Amber smiled. “You’ve never even met him.”

“I don’t have to. You’re here. He’s there.” Royce ran his brain through the circumstances one more time. “Your cell’s turned off, right?”

She nodded.

“Don’t use your credit cards.”

“I didn’t bring them.”

“Good.”

“Not really.” She hesitated. “Royce, I have no money whatsoever.”

“You don’t need money.”

“And I have no clothes, not even underwear.”

Okay, that gave him an unwanted visual. “We have everything you need right here.”

“I can’t live off your charity.”

“You’re our guest.”

“I forced you to bring me here.”

Royce set the letter back down on the desktop and tucked his phone back into his shirt pocket. “Ask anybody, Amber. I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.” He let his gaze shade the meaning of the words. He’d brought her home with him because she was a beautiful and interesting woman. It was absolutely no hardship having her around.

“I need to earn my keep.”

Royce resisted the temptation to make a joke about paying her way by sleeping with him. It was in poor taste, and the last thing he wanted to do was insult her. Besides, the two were completely unrelated.

He hoped she was attracted to him. What red-blooded man wouldn’t? And last night he had been fairly certain she was attracted to him. But whatever was between them would take its own course.

Her gaze strayed to the messy desk. “I could…”

He followed the look.

“…maybe straighten things up a little? I’ve taken business management courses, some accounting-”

“No argument from me.” Royce held up his palms in surrender. “McQuestin’s niece, Maddy, usually helps out in the office, but she’s gone back to Texas with him while he recovers.” He spread his arms in welcome. “Make yourself at home.”