Ragnar - Lord of Jaegar

by Sasha Gold

  He laughs softly. “That’s fine. I’d like to talk to them. By then we’ll be married so it won’t matter.”

  “Will, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t need to say a thing, darlin’. I’ll find a way to get you to tell me everything I want to know.”

  Chapter Eight

  Will

  The next morning, I wake before dawn. My mind works on changes I want in place for Rebecca. I’ve stayed away from others for years, never missing a phone line or internet, but she’ll want to communicate with the world. She might want to finish school, and if so, she can do her last few semesters from the ranch.

  I don’t really know who she is or why she’s come. Maybe she found out I was looking for a bride and wants to blackmail me. She hasn’t asked for money, but that means nothing. I don’t care if she’s working for someone who wants to harm me. Making her mine will neutralize the threat.

  As I leave my room, I pass her door, pausing for a moment. It’s quiet. She’s sleeping. I wonder what she’s wearing. The first night, when I glimpsed her gown, I’d gotten a hint of the fine things she likes to wear under her conservative dress. My body hardens as I imagine her in bed, resting, unaware that I’m a foot from her door.

  She’s young and not very good at her game. She signed up for a bigger sting than she realized and I’ll make her pay for her bad decision. But I plan to save her from making any more bad decisions. I know she wants what I want because I can see the desire burning in her eyes.

  Downstairs, the kitchen is still quiet. Margie will be in soon, starting on breakfast. After I make coffee and pour a cup, I go upstairs. A half hour later I hear a knock at my door. None of the housekeeping staff comes to my room at this hour, so I know exactly who it is.

  “Come in.”

  Wearing nothing more than a pair of jeans, I’ve just started shaving. Rebecca appears in the doorway and stares at me for a moment without speaking. She probably didn’t expect to find me half-dressed with shaving cream on my face. It seems intimate but this a glimpse of our life to come.

  This morning she’s wearing a robe but not a heavy one like the other night. The material is silky and the belt tied around her waist emphasizes her slim figure. This has all the ingredients of an early morning seduction, but I can tell by the look in her eyes, that’s the last thing on her mind.

  “I didn’t want to tell you who I was last night,” she says softly.

  I resume shaving. “You made that pretty clear.”

  “I’m trying not to get fired.”

  Fired. She’ll be fired all right. I’ll buy whatever company she works for and fire her myself. Over my knee. “Did you plan to work after we married?”

  She sighs. “After we’re married?”

  “You’re wearing a wedding ring, aren’t you?”

  “One you bought for Sofia.”

  “I didn’t buy it. The ring was my mother’s.”

  Her jaw drops. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “I didn’t realize that.” She’s momentarily struck dumb, a stricken look on her face. The expression fades and she takes on a resolute look, folding her arms. “Anyway, I came to tell you that I work for Atkinson and Wainwright.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “You’re going to have to do a little better than that, Rebecca.”

  “It’s true!”

  “I was just there last month and don’t remember seeing you, and trust me, I’d remember.”

  “I started three weeks ago.”

  I finish shaving, splash water on my face and after I dry off, I pull on a shirt. “I’d rather not know who you are or who you work for than listen to you make up stories, Rebecca. You’ve been all over my files and records. I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of letters from my accountants. It couldn’t have been too difficult to come up with that story.”

  Her eyes blaze with outrage. “That’s… ridiculous. Why would I lie about working for them? Why don’t you call them and ask?”

  “Why don’t I put you on the phone with Harvey and you ask him if he’ll explain this to me?”

  “Harvey?” She gives me a worried look.

  “Yes, Harvey. He’s the head of the company.”

  “Right, but he doesn’t exactly know me, super well.”

  Her words trail off when I draw closer. “You wear a lot of pretty things, Rebecca. Sweet little body any man would kill to touch. You’re the perfect bait, aren’t you?”

  She blinks a few times at my words but stands her ground, glaring at me. “You can’t touch me. You promised.”

  “I won’t. I’m just admiring my pretty fiancée.”

  A blush blooms across her pale skin, turning it a lovely pink. Her eyes dart to my chest, bare under my unbuttoned shirt. Her gaze lingers, and fuck if that doesn’t make me even hotter for her.

  “What do you have on under that robe, Rebecca?”

  Her breathing is hitched and her pupils dilated. The robe clings to the curve of her breasts, but it doesn’t reveal enough for my liking. I’d like to tug the belt free and see more and I might have if I hadn’t agreed to that ridiculous promise.

  “Show me, just a little, Rebecca. I saw you in a lot less when we were swimming. A lacy bra and panties that were wet and see-through, by the way. Show me what you sleep in.”

  “Will you call the office and ask them if they know me?”

  Her voice is a notch lower than usual. Her nipples are hard, I can see them through the silken robe she’s wearing, a robe that hides nothing, and yet too much.

  “I will call the office, and ask them if the girl sleeping in my guest room is their employee. I’m sure Harvey will think that’s very funny. Untie your belt. If you want me to call, it will cost you that robe.”

  She draws a trembling breath and gazes at me wild-eyed. Nervous, but captivated, she’s intrigued by the idea of putting herself on display for me. Her lips curve, tilting just enough to show she likes this game. Then she parts them, the little tease, and licks them.

  “You playing with me, Rebecca?”

  “Maybe. A little. I like the idea of playing with you. Especially if you can’t do anything about it.”

  “What makes you think I can’t do anything about it?”

  “Because you promised.”

  “The promise is temporary. It’s fixing to expire.”

  “Only if I agree to say my vows.”

  “You will.”

  “Says you.”

  “I already own you, little girl. Show me what I want to see.”

  “Okay. Fine.”

  Her tone is casual, like I just asked her to pass the salt or some damn thing like that. It’s pure brattiness. She’s so sure she’s safe. And she is, for now.

  Tugging the belt loose, she lets her robe fall open. Standing toe-to-toe, our gaze is locked. I don’t look down but I know she hasn’t taken the robe off.

  “Keep going.”

  She blinks. “What?”

  “Take it off. I want that robe.”

  Pressing her lips together, she gives me a look of exasperation. “This is ridiculous.”

  She’s right. This is ridiculous. Everything about the situation is crazy. I’ve never had a woman stay in my home before and I have no idea how I’ve kept from charging into her room and seducing her. All I know is that I love every single damn moment I’m with her and I won’t be parted from her.

  Shrugging her shoulders, she slips out of the robe and holds it out, offering it to me. I take it and let my gaze drift down the front of her body. The nightie Rebecca has on should be illegal. My blood scorches my veins and my cock, already hard, becomes almost painfully so. Pale pink lace, her nightie hugs her lush breasts and clings to her slim torso before flaring around the curve of her hips. The hem hits the top of her thighs.

  I curl my hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. She’s all softness and curves and I can almost feel how she’d fit under me. Or beside. Or on top. I’d like to tug the nigh
tie from her narrow shoulders and pull it down so I could see her full breasts. I’m sure they’d fill my hands perfectly.

  “Rebecca, you’re beautiful.”

  My voice is so rough, I sound hoarse. Her eyes grow round and she looks so vulnerable, I’m sure she’s never done anything like this before, shown herself to a man like she’s showing herself to me. Savage lust grips me and it’s everything I can do to keep my wits about me.

  I’d intended to keep her robe as some sort of loot, but I don’t want her walking back to her room half-naked. That show is just for me. I offer her the robe and she takes it, her fingers brushing my hand.

  Her lips part with surprise.

  “You touched me,” I say softly. “That’s different then me touching you.”

  She smiles playfully as she puts the robe back on. “Is it now?”

  With that she whirls away from me, her robe fluttering behind her, and she leaves my room. It takes a few moments for my painfully hard arousal to subside and when it does I’m down the stairs and out the front door. I need a little space from her and a ride on my favorite gelding is the perfect solution.

  I have a cell phone in my pocket, one I never use because it’s almost impossible to get service out here. There’s only one place on the ranch where I can make a call, a ridge that runs along the southern pastures. It takes a half hour of hard riding to get there. When I reach the top, I dismount, take off my gloves and turn on the phone.

  The little fucker takes an age to come to life, probably just to spite me for never using it. Finally, the screen lights. A message flashes. Six hundred and fourteen missed calls.

  “I’ll get right on that.” I bring up my contacts, a total of three people, two of whom are accountants. The other is my dentist.

  I dial Harvey and listen to the crackled ring, wondering if I have enough reception to maintain a connection. When I set out to get the agency to find a bride, I never discussed it with Harvey. He doesn’t have much to do with the special services his company runs. Besides, I knew he’d try to talk me out of it. I dealt with one of his subordinates, but he should be able to confirm or deny if Rebecca works for him.

  He answers on the first ring. “Will?”

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “I figured someone stole your phone.”

  “Right. I don’t call too often. I know. I’ve gotta make this quick. I wondered if you had any new hires in the last month.”

  “We had a slew of them – a whole new crop of candidates. One of them is coming your way pretty soon. Pretty little thing. I always liked seeing her walk down the hall.”

  A growl gathers in my chest. I’d heard both Gerald and Harvey talk about women like that, especially the younger women in the office, but I’d never really paid attention. Now that there’s a possibility Rebecca worked for them, Harvey’s comments piss me off.

  Suddenly I don’t even care if she worked for them. I don’t know what’s come over me in the past few days. This girl is more than under my skin. She’s deep inside me. Inside my heart, if I even have one. I’ve ridden out into the furthest pasture to find out more about her. I’m not just trying to get her into my bed. It’s more.

  “Is her name Rebecca?”

  “Thought it was Rhonda. I think she got picked for a special assignment for you. Don’t recall the details.”

  The phone goes dead but it doesn’t matter anymore. I turn the phone off and shove it in my back pocket. Perfect. I’ll get Rebecca right where I want her and take my time getting her to confess everything. Her answers matter less to me than her signature on the marriage contract.

  I head back to the ranch, toss my horse’s reins to a ranch hand and head straight to my study. I pull out the box of folders from Atkinson and Wainwright. They had about a dozen or so for me to choose from and I flip through them looking for Rebecca. She’s not there.

  I gather up the folders to put them back in the drawer and an envelope falls out, one from Harvey’s office.

  Ms. Rebecca Bloom will be spending the week of June 19 – 26 at your ranch to help establish your nonprofit for the horses. Please provide her with tax records and other information as needed.

  Son of a bitch. She’s telling the truth.

  I’ll provide her with more than tax records and financial information. I’m going to make her mine. Give her the world, or I’ll bring the world to her. I’ll even agree to get a phone and internet and anything else she wants to feel at home.

  My smile widens. Even riding lessons. Especially riding lessons.

  Chapter Nine

  Rebecca

  As the morning drifts into afternoon, I mull over my situation. I’m trapped with a billionaire cowboy who up until this morning believed I’d come to the ranch to marry him. Since I’ve arrived, he’s been eyeing me, probably just like he examines a horse he wants to buy. Obviously, I’m not here to work on his nonprofit. At least not as far as he’s concerned.

  So, I don’t.

  The most I can hope for is that I get myself fired. That’s the best-case scenario. Shit-canned. That’s what my grandfather called getting fired. I cringe, thinking about my shameful behavior.

  This sort of stuff doesn’t happen to me. I’m the reliable, boring girl who colors inside the lines. Always. I’m never the wild one when I hang out with friends. I’m the one telling the cautionary tale, not the woeful subject.

  And yet, I can’t help the shiver of desire that comes over me any time I think about the way he looks at me. I’ve thought about him for so long. Imagined meeting him. All the while, I assumed I’d nurture my little crush, admiring him from afar. Never did I imagine Mr. Branson would want me.

  Pacing around the house like a trapped animal, I try to come up with some sort of plan. Margie has offered to make me something to eat but I’m not hungry. My stomach is in knots. I decide to get out for a while. Stretch my legs. I’m not sure where Will has gone, but I’m going to look around while he’s doing whatever he does. I hear Ben’s voice coming from behind the house.

  The backyard is like a children’s wonderland. Swings, playsets and teeter-totters surround a fountain. Floral scents waft in the air, a lovely perfume coming from the flower beds. Several lop-eared rabbits hop around, free and happily nibbling clover.

  I can’t help smiling at this sweet sight, the child’s playground that Will created for Ben. Will is so gruff, so masculine and no-nonsense, it’s hard to imagine him coming up with the idea of putting bunnies in a playground. One of the bunnies, a white and grey creature with large, lipid eyes, looks up at me, his velvet nose twitching.

  Ben sits in a sandbox, building a sand castle. He gazes at me but returns his attention to his work. His brow furrows with concentration. His nanny, a grey-haired lady, reads a book on a nearby bench.

  “May I help you with your castle?” I ask him.

  He gazes at me, pondering, and I wonder what he’s thinking.

  “Sometimes he’s a bit shy,” the nurse says. “But if you sit there a while, he might talk a little. If you give him time.”

  “I suppose it’s good he doesn’t talk to strangers.” I settle on the side of the sandbox and watch him.

  The nurse grins. “I can assure you, he won’t allow you to come anywhere near his creation. He’s going through a stage where he insists on doing everything himself. I’ve been banned from the sandbox.”

  Ben lifts a cup, offering it to me and the nanny gasps and chuckles. “Isn’t that lovely. I told him his daddy had a lady friend, one he was going to marry. He didn’t say very much, but he got the biggest smile on his face.”

  I’m taken aback by her comment. It makes my heart pinch to think that this little one has his hopes up. I’m flattered, but worried.

  “I hope I didn’t misspeak,” she says. “Mr. Branson told me you’d accepted his ring.”

  I take off my shoes and set them aside. Then I cross to the sandbox, barefooted, and take the cup from Ben. “I did accept it.”

  “It’s
lovely. Mr. Branson seems so happy since you’ve arrived.”

  I’m pretty certain he’s unhappy with me right now. I take the ring from my finger and set it on a seat beside the sandbox. I’ve never worn anything as fine as that ring. I’m no expert, but I think I shouldn’t wear it while I build sand castles.

  “I’m not really dressed to play in the sand, Ben,” I murmur. I sit on an overturned bucket and pack my cup with sand.

  He watches me, round-eyed as if he’s not sure I’ll know what to do with sand and a cup. His lips purse with an adorable expression of skepticism.

  I give him a pointed look. “This isn’t my first time in a sandbox, Mister.”

  Ben’s expression softens. “But you’re a girl.”

  “Crazy, huh?”

  His castle is toppled on one side but I manage to convince him to support the castle walls with more sand around the base. We work, talking a little about castles and moats and dragons. I’m so preoccupied with my task that I hardly notice Will arrive. I’m not really sure how long he’s been standing at the side of the sandbox, watching.

  He’s dressed in jeans and boots, a buttoned-down shirt and chaps. He’s been out riding, obviously, and I’m a little hurt he left me all day. I’m aware that I missed him. A lot. He lifts his hand. My ring is on his pinky finger. His hands are so huge, the ring won’t go past the first knuckle. That’s not what alarms me. What freaks me out is the fact that he’s wearing the ring he told me not to take off.

  A breathless laugh falls from my lips. Big, rugged Will Branson wearing a diamond ring on his finger is enough to make me laugh out loud, and the you’re-in-trouble glint doesn’t help my efforts to keep a straight face. I’m crazy about Will and I don’t have anything to offer him, not compared to seductive women like Sofia, but if he wants me… well, I’m already his.

  “We’re making a sand castle,” Ben says. “Becca is helping me.”

  My heart warms to hear Ben call me Becca. That’s what my grandfather used to call me. He says my name easily and it makes me wonder if Will has been talking to Ben about me.

  “I see that,” Will remarks, his lips curving into a smile as he keeps me in his gaze.