The Rancher's Wager

by Maisey Yates

  She didn’t understand him. She didn’t understand herself with him, either. Rather than let him see her confusion, she headed to the table, ignoring the curious glances from the regulars who knew it was unusual for her to chat up anyone.

  Despite her new caution, the feeling of security remained. Within minutes of sitting down, she dozed off.

  * * *

  CADE KNEW THE second she nodded off. She sat facing the rest of the bar, her long legs stretched out to the chair opposite her, her arms folded over her chest. Uncaring what anyone thought, she slumped in the seat, more reclining than otherwise, let her head rest back against the wall and closed her eyes. Long lashes sent feathery shadows over her cheekbones.

  He admired her nose, narrow with the slightest arch in the bridge; he considered it perfect for her face. Not too cute, not too big or small. Like her attitude, each feature of her face and body was unique.

  Her breathing deepened and slowed, but she didn’t snore. Didn’t go completely lax, either. Hell, he doubted she ever did.

  So much churning wariness probably kept her constantly on edge. He knew it affected him that way. He rarely slept soundly, but then, he didn’t need much sleep.

  With any luck, she’d doze right up until closing time at midnight. Since being a bartender wasn’t really his vocation, he didn’t keep usual hours for the bar. Most in the area were open until 2:00 a.m., but he shut down at midnight and didn’t open again until 4:00 p.m. That gave him plenty of time for other pursuits, and when the two overlapped, he had reliable staff to cover for him at the bar.

  They were only an hour from closing when two strangers entered. The frisson of awareness that settled in his gut told him they were about to have problems.

  Instinctively, his gaze shifted to Star.

  He found her sitting upright, alert, her eyes narrowed dangerously. Well, hell.

  He’d never known a woman so acutely aware of her surroundings. In that, she matched him.

  Didn’t mean he wanted her getting elbow deep in danger, especially not when that danger just walked into his bar.

  Subtly, he drifted his gaze between her and the men—hoping she’d ignore them, that she’d go back to sleep.

  Should have known better.

  While he watched in frustration, she pulled the tie from her hair and let it tumble down over one shoulder.

  Fuck me sideways.

  He’d always known the difference a woman’s hair could make to her appearance. But on Star? This softer look had a near-physical impact on him. The woman had gorgeous hair. Longer than he’d realized, and a rich brown streaked with gold by the sun. He watched as she tunneled her fingers in close to her scalp and fluffed it.

  He would have liked to do that for her. Hands curled loosely, he could almost feel that silky mass.

  When her slender fingers flicked open three buttons on her shirt, he locked his jaw—not that she noticed. Keeping her focus on the newcomers, she parted the shirt until a fair amount of cleavage showed, then tied the shirttails at her waist.

  It took her less than thirty seconds to go from plain and reserved to a total bombshell. The “hands off” signals were gone, and instead her demeanor screamed “up for grabs.”

  Why? What the hell was she planning?

  When she stood, he cursed silently, reading her intent.

  She didn’t spare him a glance. No, she’d forgotten all about him, and that nettled, because she’d been his first thought when he saw the two men.

  The second she stood, she caught their attention. Wearing a flirty smile, she sauntered toward them.

  Cade seriously wanted to demolish them both simply for the way they looked at her.

  When she reached the bigger of the two men, she asked, “Got a cigarette?”

  The guy sized her up in an insultingly thorough way, then pulled the pack from his front T-shirt pocket, shook one loose and offered it to her.

  Maintaining eye contact, she leaned down and slowly slipped a cigarette free.

  Both men looked down her shirt.

  The second guy asked, “Light?”

  “I have my own outside, but thank you.” She sashayed out the door, and it wasn’t just the two new guys watching her. Every man in the place had his fascinated gaze glued to her ass.

  Shit. Cade quickly, but casually, directed others to cover the bar. Pretending he needed a break, he went down the hall and into the private office he’d offered for her use. After relocking the door, he went to the single window in the room, opened it and hoisted himself up and out. It was an awkward fit for a man his size, but he’d practiced before, ensuring he had multiple exits if it ever became necessary.

  He considered watching Star’s back very necessary.

  Circling around the bar on silent feet, he listened. Her boots crunched on the gravel, guiding him. She didn’t go to her rig, but then, maybe she didn’t want them to know which truck was hers.

  Smart—except that they could ask anyone in the bar about her, and that would be one of the first things they learned.

  Cade leaned around the corner, still hidden by shadows but able to see her. She hadn’t lit the cigarette, but she kept it dangling between her lips.

  What are you up to?

  She glanced several times at the entrance, and when the doors finally opened, she made a show of frustration.

  The one who’d offered a light smiled. “Couldn’t find your lighter after all?”

  She shook her head, sending that wealth of thick hair to move around her breasts. Wearing a sexy pout, she asked, “Did you bring one out with you?”

  He produced the lighter, then teased her with, “Say please.”

  Taking the cigarette from her lips, she gave him a tight smile. “Really? Because there are twenty men inside who would be glad to give me a light—without stipulations.”

  “Seems to me you don’t like them, or you’d have gone to them for the cigarette.”

  Her lips curled. “You think you know what I like?”

  “I know you’d like more than a smoke.”

  At that, she laughed, a rich, husky sound that set Cade’s teeth on edge. She played a dangerous game, and he hoped like hell she didn’t push too hard.

  “Maybe you’re right.” The finger she stroked along her cleavage drew the man’s heated stare. “What’s your name?”

  “You can call me Smith.”

  She laughed. “Well, Smith, how much are you willing to give?”

  Not for a second did Cade believe she meant to sell herself. No, she had a bigger game in mind, and it made him scared for her.

  Cade knew Smith—what a crock—because he and his brother had kept tabs on the man for more than a month. They knew Smith was involved in plenty of shady deals, but he was just muscle, not brains. Someone else called the shots. Someone with more power.

  Cade wanted them all.

  With her impetuous rush to get involved, Star jeopardized his well-made plans. Never mind that she didn’t know he had plans...

  “Tell you what.” The guy reached to a back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

  Finally, she looked a little nervous, but still, she didn’t back down. Honest to God, she raised her chin.

  Luckily—because Cade didn’t want to blow his cover—the guy offered a card instead of cash. “You want to make a big score, come by Misfits tomorrow night. I have a buddy in need of cheering up and you’d be just the ticket.”

  Restoring that cocky attitude, she glanced at the card, then shoved it into her own pocket. “What time?”

  “Ah, so you don’t mind the idea of being his...entertainment?”

  She shrugged but asked, “Is he a total pig?”

  “Most of the women don’t complain.”

  Most of the women don’t complain. Meaning some did...but it didn’t matter? When Smith’
s friend finished with them, were they even able to complain?

  Breathing slow and deep kept Cade from reacting. Somehow he’d ensure Star’s safety, and eventually he’d bury Smith.

  For a split second, she went blank—fear? anger?—before curling her mouth in another credible smile. “I take it you’ve given him other gifts?”

  “He’s partial to those with long legs and big tits.”

  With every beat of his heart, Cade wanted her away from the bastard, but he didn’t intrude. Not yet.

  Toying with a long curl, Star pretended the crude language and dark insinuation didn’t bother her. “How much are we talking?”

  Taken by surprise, Smith reached out, wrapping his fingers in her hair. “Enough, okay? Don’t push me. Just be there at nine.”

  She didn’t flinch, didn’t show any pain and didn’t back down. She actually moved closer to Smith. Too damn close. “Oh, I’ll be there. And I’ll expect you to make it worth my while.”

  He leaned forward, clearly intending to kiss her, and suddenly she freed herself—minus a few dozen strands of hair. “You pay first, sugar. I don’t give out freebies.” Before Smith could figure out what to do, she walked away.

  To her credit, she went back into the bar and relative safety. But how safe would she be when she left?

  Keeping an eye on the door she went through, Smith dug out his cell phone and pressed in a number. The light from the screen emphasized his twisted smile. “Hey,” Smith said, when the call was answered. “Prep the back room, okay? I have a new one coming out tomorrow.” He laughed. “Yeah, you’ll like her. She fits your preferences to a tee.” He listened, shook his head. “No, I’m sure she’s not, but I’ll follow her tonight just to be safe. One thing, and it’s nonnegotiable.” He waited, then said, “Once you’re done with her, I’m next in line.”

  Don’t miss No Holding Back by Lori Foster, available February 2021.

  Copyright © 2021 by Lori Foster

  Keep reading for an excerpt from One Night in Texas by Charlene Sands.

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  One Night in Texas

  by Charlene Sands

  One

  She looked at herself in the mirror and saw the same girl she’d always seen staring back at her. Gracie Diaz of Mexican American descent, whose immigrant father had worked for the Wingate family on their ranch, whose mother had taken up waitressing once Gracie’s father died. She saw the same young girl with smoky brown eyes, olive skin and long dark hair who was still swept up in romantic fantasies of Sebastian, the more serious of the devastatingly handsome Wingate twins. The same starry-eyed dreamer with lofty aspirations of developing an events business and having a family of her own one day.

  But she wasn’t just that girl anymore... She was much more. Twenty-eight years old now, and the winner of a sixty-million-dollar lottery—a woman with means to do as she pleased.

  “And you did that, Gracie,” she said to her reflection. “You did as you pleased.”

  At the Texas Cattleman’s Club masquerade ball. Nearly three months ago, she’d fallen for a tall, masked stranger, unable to resist his enigmatic charm. There was something in the way he’d held her, danced with her, kissed her. He was masterful and passionate, and it all had been so thrilling. She’d tossed away her inhibitions that night and had given in to the cravings of the body and mind. His scent, his deep, low voice, the way he moved—their chemistry had been off the charts. Their secret tryst had happened quickly, in a hidden spot where they wouldn’t be found. But mere moments after they’d made love, voices coming from the hallway had interrupted their erotic interlude, and she’d fled. Taken off without so much as getting his name.

  The mystery had intrigued her for months.

  Because Gracie didn’t know who he was.

  Until now.

  Her cell phone rang and she picked up on the second ring. Smiling into the phone, she said, “Hi, Beth.”

  She’d been Beth Wingate’s assistant before she’d won the lottery, and now they worked side by side on special events. But mostly, Beth was her dearest friend. She hadn’t told her friend the truth yet because she hadn’t had enough time to process what she’d discovered two weeks ago. But she knew she couldn’t keep it under wraps forever. “I’m glad you called me back.”

  “I know why you’re worried, hon,” Beth replied. “But believe me, you buying the Wingate Estate isn’t gonna put my nose out of joint. I’m actually glad you’re doing it, Gracie, because ultimately, it’s good for everyone. My family needs cash to get Wingate Enterprises up to par. And selling the estate is the best way to get the new Wingate hotel chain on its feet.”

  Gracie was grateful to Beth for her encouragement. Though she had always dreamed of living in this amazing estate, she’d never believed it would happen. She’d chalked it up to one silly girl’s childhood fantasy. After all, she’d been the daughter of a ranch employee, her father working for the Wingates most of his life. So now it was a pretty strange feeling having this monetary reversal, to be in the position to buy the estate. She’d never thought herself worthy and maybe she didn’t feel that way now, either. But her mentor’s supportive words had helped. “Thanks for making me feel better about it, Beth.”

  But it wasn’t just the Wingate heiress’s opinion that mattered. Soon Gracie would have to deal with Beth’s brother Sebastian. She so wasn’t looking forward to that.

  “It’s the truth,” Beth said. “I’m happy you and the baby will be living there. How are you feeling lately?”

  “My morning sickness is gone, thank the Lord for that. And I feel pretty good. No baby bump yet, but the doctor says I’m healthy.”

  “All good news. You’ve been wanting a family of your own for a long time now. It’s finally happening.”

  Gracie closed her eyes, filled with mixed emotions. After she’d won the lottery, she’d tried dating, but she was never sure if it was her or her money that attracted men to her. After several dating mishaps, her trust had evaporated and she’d pretty much decided to have a baby on her own. She’d seen Dr. Everett months ago for fertility treatment, planning to do in vitro, but a glorious one-night stand during the masquerade ball had taken care of that. Now she was three months pregnant by a man she’d crushed on during her youth, a man who’d never seemed interested in her in the least, a man whose identity she’d finally figured out. “Yes, it finally is.”

  She placed her hand over her belly, imagining the new life growing inside her. What a miracle it was. She’d wanted a family of her own so much, and now those cherished dreams were finally coming true. She loved this baby already, but she didn’t love the strings that would eventually become attached.

  She’d have to think about that tomorrow.

  Today, she had an estate to purchase.

  “Beth, I’m glad we spoke. You’ve been such a good friend, and I didn’t want to do anything that would make it awkward between us.”

  “Nothing ever will, girlfriend.”

  “Same here. Well, gotta run. I’ll call you in a few days, okay?”

  “Sounds good. Oh, and, Gracie...good luck.�
�

  “Thanks.”

  Gracie set the phone down and chewed on her lip. She was at loose ends here, and needed to gather her wits. After all, she had a meeting at the foreclosed Wingate Estate in one hour.

  With her Realtor, her attorney...and the father of her baby.

  * * *

  It was damn cold inside the house, the January chill sweeping into the walls of the empty estate. Sebastian shuddered. From the frigidness? Or was it from a sudden feeling of loss? All the furnishings inside the house were gone, most items hauled off to an estate company where they’d gotten a fair price, but nowhere near the cost of his family’s memories.

  Sebastian wasn’t the sentimental type—he was a realist and this sale was a good thing—but still, he was hit with a wave of unexpected nostalgia from selling his childhood home. There’d been an abundance of love here, plus silly and not-so-silly arguments. Not to mention wild shenanigans, especially between him and his twin brother, Sutton. His other siblings—Miles, Harley and Beth—hadn’t exactly been angels, either. Sebastian grinned, thinking of his brothers and sisters when they were kids. He’d allow himself a moment to reminisce about the good times, the pranks they’d pulled, the trouble the five of them would get into. There was never a dull moment in the Wingate household.

  But their good name had almost been taken down by sabotage. All the Wingates had worked toward this past year had nearly been destroyed.

  In a big way, their home was the answer to the Wingates’ prayers. Once this place was sold, Sebastian would have cold hard cash to put into the relaunch of the Wingate name and reputation, as well as the financial means to invest in a hotel chain geared for romantic getaways, wedding events and resort-style fun.

  For years, their hotels throughout the world accommodated the corporate class. They were straightforward residences meant to temporarily house business and industry travelers. Now, with the money from the estate sale, conference rooms would be converted into grand ballrooms, cafeterias would become gourmet dining rooms and cooks would be replaced with culinary chefs. The atmosphere and attitude associated with Wingate would change entirely. It had to work. The Wingate empire was banking on it.