His Christmas Cinderella
Page 20
“Come on,” he told his brother. “Sitting there sulking isn’t going to change anything.”
From inside the vehicle, Noah told Gage what he could go and do with himself.
Gage almost smiled.
His brother was nothing if not consistent.
* * *
Inside the lodge’s office, Rory McAdams stood at the window and watched the tall man climb from his low-slung black vehicle. He was too far away to see his face, but everything about him looked impatient. From the fingers he thrust through his dark hair to the way he looked at his cell phone and wristwatch.
On top of everything else, he was going to be one of those.
The kind of guest who arrived all tensed up and would stay that way once he realized that all of his fancy little tech devices didn’t count for squat here. The ranch provided wireless internet, but it wasn’t exactly the lightning-fast variety. The phones were connected by that old-fashioned thing called wire. There weren’t even televisions inside the guest rooms, and the newspaper that her father still insisted on subscribing to was always delivered several days late.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. Despite the latest tests that said Sean McAdams’s cancer hadn’t returned after two years, the battle had left its mark. He looked a fraction of the man who had been at the helm of Angel River for nearly all of her life.
“He’s here,” she said.
Her father nodded. “I told you he would come.” He gave her a pointed look that was reminiscent of his precancer days. “No matter how much you hoped he wouldn’t.”
Rory swallowed the denial on the tip of her tongue. What her father said was true.
“Better go and greet him,” her dad prompted. “He’s a paying guest.”
“Gage Stanton’s a competitor,” she muttered. One who wanted to pick their brains for every secret to their success just so he could turn around and use that information against them.
Aware of the way her dad was watching her, she tightened the ponytail at the back of her head, picked up two of the gift bags they always presented to incoming guests and left the office. Maybe her steps were a little more like stomps, but she couldn’t help it.
Aside from the arrangement he’d made with Stanton, her dad hadn’t made a single decision where the ranch was concerned since he’d gotten sick. What other things might he be planning without telling her?
The office had once been on the third floor with windows that afforded its occupants a near-panoramic view of the main ranch. Since her dad’s health had declined, they’d relocated it to the main floor, taking over a guest suite. It was convenient for him since there was a fully equipped bedroom. It meant he could rest whenever he’d needed to without returning to his cabin located a few miles away.
Now that he was feeling better, they could have moved the office back to its original location, freeing up the room for bookings again.
Only there’d been no need.
Right now, the lodge was quiet, but its peacefulness didn’t soothe her like it usually did.
The lunch hour had passed. Bart had cleared everything away, and the guests were off on their afternoon activities. Frannie, she hoped, was cleaning the guest rooms while they were empty.
Rory reached the lodge entrance and pushed her lips into a smile she didn’t feel before pulling open the heavy door. The wind whipped at her ponytail as she stepped outside. She gathered it over one shoulder, trying to keep it under control as she walked along the wide porch toward a set of stairs that led down to the driveway.
Most guests preferred to fly. Wymon, the nearest town, had an airstrip the ranch paid to maintain just so their guests would have an easier time reaching them. The fact that Stanton had chosen to drive such an impractical vehicle here only underscored the fact that he wasn’t a typical guest.
She still couldn’t see the man’s face. He was too busy with his cell phone.
This time she deliberately clomped her boots just to get his attention. Finally he lifted his head and looked her way.
Rory was immediately glad that she’d already reached the bottom of the steps, or she might have fallen over her feet.
Gage Stanton—assuming the new arrival was Gage Stanton and not the other guest he’d told her dad he was bringing—was gorgeous. Seriously, studly gorgeous.
So gorgeous that it was an effort to get her mouth to work in conjunction with her brain. Her mouth wanted to drool. Her brain wanted to get him moving on his way as quickly as possible. She was a thirty-three-year-old single mom trying to keep the family business afloat and did not have time to be drooling over anyone. Least of all someone who’d paid them a fortune to learn their so-called secrets of success.
The last time she’d drooled over someone, she’d ended up with Killian. And though she wouldn’t trade her son for the world—he was her world after all—she wasn’t prepared for a repeat.
Not that the gorgeous black-haired man looking back at her with meltingly beautiful brown eyes would ever drool over her.
Undoubtedly, his last-minute guest was one of the female variety. He wouldn’t be the first of her guests with “companions” they preferred to keep discreet.
If they paid their fees and didn’t cause any damage to the property or her staff, who was Rory to judge?
Anyway, she never got involved with guests. Not that way. Especially guests who brokered deals with her father behind her back.
As she closed the distance between them, she made an effort to put on her usual greet-the-guests smile. “Good afternoon. Welcome to the Angel River Ranch.” She extended one of the tote bags fashioned with the ranch’s logo of unfurled wings superimposed over a curving river. “I’m Rory McAdams. I manage the property here. You must be—”
“Gage Stanton,” he said in a deep voice. The kind of voice that made shivers dance across a woman’s shoulders before slipping down her spine to points beyond.
Her practiced smile didn’t waver. “I’m glad you made it safely. Much longer and we would have been sending out a search party for you.” She wasn’t joking, though she said it lightly.
His perfectly molded lips tilted slightly. “Sorry about that.” He lifted his phone. “Would have called to let you know we’d be arriving later than planned, but—” A faint line appeared in his lean cheek as his smile deepened. “I keep forgetting that there are still places in the world where these barely work.”
The self-deprecating smile was almost enough to throw her.
Almost.
“You’re here now, so that’s what counts.” She looked toward the car. The front window was almost as heavily tinted as the side windows, and she could barely make out a slender figure with dark hair in the passenger seat. “Now let’s get you settled so you both can begin enjoying your stay.”
The developer opened his door and angled his head to look in at his companion. “Get moving.” His voice was short to the point of rude before he shut the door again with a decisive click.
Oh. Kay. Then.
She would be discreet about this guest if it choked her, but it would be even harder if the guy turned out to be a total jerk. No matter how much money he was paying them. On the other hand, if he was a jerk, he could learn all of Angel River’s secrets and he’d still fail, because nobody liked visiting a guest ranch that was being run by a jerk.
As if it were a weather vane, she felt her sympathy suddenly swing around in the direction of the man’s companion.
Stanton stepped forward and took the tote bag from her. His fingers barely grazed hers as he took the strap, but it was enough to make her shiver yet again.
Dang it all.
She deliberately moved away from him and crossed to the other side of the luxurious car.
“Good afternoon,” she said brightly as she pulled open the door for the poor woman inside. “Welcome to Angel River.”
It was a man.
Young.
Painfully thin.
He was almost as handsome as Gage, but in a less-finished way. And his face also had a distinctive pallor that reminded her of her father’s.
She felt her practiced smile soften, feeling even more sympathy. Man. Woman. What did it matter? Suffering was suffering.
“I’m Rory.” She extended her hand to him. “If there is anything I can do to make your stay here more enjoyable, all you have to do is say the word.”
He suddenly smiled. His eyes were blue. Set off by all that dark hair and stubbled jaw, they were quite striking. “Word,” he said and clasped her hand.
His fingers were cool. They did not send shivers down her spine.
“Give the woman back her hand, Noah.” Gage had moved around to open the trunk and was lifting out a small suitcase that looked brand-new and a second bag that looked anything but. “You’ll have to excuse my brother, Rory.” He pushed the trunk closed. “He obviously doesn’t know how to behave around a pretty woman.”
Copyright © 2020 by Allison Lee Johnson
Love Harlequin romance?
DISCOVER.
Be the first to find out about promotions, news and exclusive content!
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Instagram.com/HarlequinBooks
Pinterest.com/HarlequinBooks
ReaderService.com
EXPLORE.
Sign up for the Harlequin e-newsletter and download a free book from any series at
TryHarlequin.com
CONNECT.
Join our Harlequin community to share your thoughts and connect with other romance readers!
Facebook.com/groups/HarlequinConnection
ISBN-13: 9781488070174
His Christmas Cinderella
Copyright © 2020 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Christy Jeffries for her contribution to the Montana Mavericks: What Happened to Beatrix? miniseries.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at CustomerService@Harlequin.com.
Harlequin Enterprises ULC
22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor
Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada
www.Harlequin.com