“I had the night off. I thought I’d take care of a few details for the party tomorrow.” She lifted a manila envelope she held in her hands, stuffed with papers. “So much to do, so little time.”
“Well, we’re heading back. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Without Seth?” Rick squawked, letting the model take him by the arm and lead him away.
“He wants to stay and I want to leave,” the model announced, her every word laced with resentment. “Here are the keys to the Jeep. Do I have to spell it out for you, you lucky boy?”
Rick’s eyes widened.
“C’mon.”
He followed Nikki down the street like a puppy dog.
Kirsten watched them go.
She would even have laughed if she hadn’t turned around and smacked into the hard, un-yielding chest of her boss.
Five
“Looking for your ship, Miss Meadows?” Seth inquired, his tone sarcastic.
Cool and collected, she didn’t let him ruffle her feathers. “I was in town and thought to check on a few details for tomorrow, Mr. Morgan.”
She refused to take his bait. Clasping the manila envelope and her handbag, she made to walk around him on the sidewalk. “So, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Tomorrow is a fait accompli. Take the night off.” His words were like a military order.
“I think everything should go very well tomorrow, but I still have a few personal errands to run—”
“Personal errands. What kind of personal errands do you have to run at this time of night?”
She stared at him, exasperated. “I can certainly see why you’ve done so well for yourself, Mr. Morgan, but bullying me will get you nothing but…”
She paused for the right words, but there were none. There wasn’t anything she could threaten him with. Quitting would only hurt her at this point in her life.
“But what, Miss Meadows?” he taunted.
“My—my—my displeasure,” she retorted.
Even she had to laugh. She sounded like some nineteenth-century schoolmarm.
Grinning, he stared down at her while a couple of drunken young men rolled out of the Roundup Bar and came their way.
Not in the mood to tangle with tourists, she said, “Unless you have a task you need done, if you’ll excuse me, this is my only time to take care of what I have to do in town. I’ve got to go.”
“How are you getting home?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
He laughed out loud. The wolfish grin enticed her and the spark returned to his wicked eyes. “You still can’t walk around town alone all night. I’ll go with you—for protection only.”
The drunken men passed by, one accidentally staggering into her. The manila file flew out of her hand and the young men walked on, oblivious.
“You need protection, Miss Meadows,” he confirmed as he bent and helped her gather the papers.
“Fine. Come along if you have nothing better to do than cause my displeasure,” she told him, flustered as she tried to retrieve all her papers.
“Believe me. Your pleasure is the only thing on my mind, Miss Meadows.”
She eyed him, glad they were underneath the dim street lamp and not in naked sunlight where she might read all the lust she suspected was in that last statement.
Giving up on conversation, she walked across Main Street, where the saloons were located, to Aspen Street, where most of the businesses had their offices.
The blocks were dark and desolate compared to the rowdiness of Main Street in the height of the tourist season, but she didn’t mind. There was virtually no crime in Mystery. It really was pointless for Seth to come with her. She wondered why she hadn’t insisted he go his own way and she go hers, but then she forced herself not to study the motivations too closely, because she didn’t really want the answers.
She stopped in front of a plate-glass-fronted office named Mountain Mortgage.
Placing her entire file in the night box, she made a display of dusting her hands of it, then said, “Okay. Mission complete. My bodyguard can breathe easy once again.”
“Are you buying a house?”
“Maybe,” was all she offered.
“Why do you need a house when you live at the ranch?”
“Because this is a free country, and employees may do anything they like after work hours, including buying property the boss may not understand that they need.”
She lifted one eyebrow and gave him a chastising look. “Does that explain it for you?”
“No. No, it does not. Does Hazel know you’re buying a house?”
“I’m going to tell her if I get the loan.”
“I know you think I plan on being in New York a lot, but I’m telling you right now, Miss Meadows, that I plan on spending most of my time in Mystery, and I’ll need an assistant at my quarters, not living in town.”
“I’m aware of that, Mr. Morgan.”
“Then answer me. Why are you buying a house?”
“I’m buying it for my mother and sister, okay?” she finally snapped.
Her shoulders sagged, the stress of the past couple of weeks weighing her down. “Look, I just thought now that I had a pretty good job I should buy the cottage my mom lives in so she doesn’t have to pay rent any more.”
“Why can’t your mom buy her own house?”
“Because she’s been sick and worked to death. She needs a break, and I’m going to give her one.”
A muscle in his jaw bunched as if he were pondering her words.
Tears suddenly stung her eyes. She didn’t know how she was going to handle James at the barbecue tomorrow, and handling Nikki for the past two days had taken its toll emotionally. Right then, all she could think of was that she wanted to get away from Seth Morgan as fast as she could. She wanted to lick her wounds and quell her embarrassment and sort out her lacerated emotions alone.
She turned to leave, but he pulled her into the darkened doorway of the mortgage company.
“I’ll buy your mother the house. You don’t have to worry about that,” he whispered as if suddenly aware of her desire for privacy.
“I can’t let you do that,” she protested, her throat thick with tears of exhaustion. “In fact, I won’t let you do it. It would be improper and perhaps even unethical.”
“I want to do it.” His hands cupped her face.
She couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness of the doorway. She couldn’t tell if he was the Seth Morgan of substance or style at that moment, and she wasn’t about to trust herself either, not when his strong touch sent an erotic rustle down her spine like the scattering of aspen leaves.
“It would take too long to pay you back,” she said, the tears beginning to well in her eyes, her strength for protest dissipating.
“Don’t pay me back, then.”
She looked up at him in shock. He stared down at her, his expression urging.
Soon the tears streamed down her face and onto his knuckles, which caressed her cheeks.
A strange moment held between them.
Her exhaustion and despair were getting the better of her, and she knew it. It was getting harder and harder to think with his warm touch on her face.
But he seemed undone by her crying. His face was a hard mask of marble, his eyes shadowed and piercing. She knew he wanted something, and it was frustrating him being unable to figure out how to go about it.
Slowly, he drew his tear-dampened knuckles across her mouth.
Her emotions raw, she was aware that now was not the time for a kiss, because she knew she couldn’t protect herself from her protector.
But the kiss came anyway. And in the end, she wasn’t even sure who kissed whom first. All she did know was that his lips were on hers once more, feeding her soul. And she held his mouth to hers as desperately as he held on to her.
Moaning, she allowed the kiss to deepen. His tongue licked fire into her mouth, and his arms trapped her like a cage as they moved around to her back
and crushed her to him.
The want built in her like a pressure cooker. When his hand slid between the buttons of her blouse, she had no thoughts of pushing him away. She thought only of giving him more and more until she had satisfied her own growing hunger.
Another button popped open, then another and another. His hands were experienced at undressing a woman; their warmth and dexterity was enticing. Slowly he slid down her bra straps, leaving her breasts barely held in the pink lace bra cups.
As if she was weightless, he pushed her against the plate-glass door, his hands eagerly taking their fill of her generous female flesh.
She swore she heard him groan, but her heart beat so hard, she couldn’t discern any other noise. His lips took hers in a taut, intense kiss, and she felt her very being meld with his with just the union of their mouths.
Breaking the kiss, he let his tongue trail down her tearstained cheek to her neck. He licked the sensitive hollow of her throat, burning her and leaving her only with a need for more fire.
Her breath came fast when she felt his thumb caress the lacy line of the bra cup along her breast.
His mouth hardened as if he was somehow trying to hold himself back.
But it seemed no use. His hand slid between her jean-clad thighs and roughly caressed her, as if readying her, as if she needed readying. All it would take was his mouth on her nipple and she would be his.
“Don’t worry about that house again, baby,” he whispered, his breath an erotic musk on her skin.
His words rained down on her like needle-sharp hail.
With an intake of breath, she suddenly seemed to snap awake.
She saw with crystal clarity what the hell she was getting into.
He was going to help her buy her mother’s house, all right, and the price was going to be way more steep than the mortgage company’s. And it might even take longer to pay. And the worst of it was, she had just about done it.
Just about.
Quickly she covered her breasts with her hands as they nearly fell out of her bra.
Trembling, she pulled out of the doorway.
“What happened?” he snapped, his own urges clearly setting him on the razor’s edge.
“N-nothing. And nothing ever will happen. Un-understand?” she stammered.
“That’s not the message I got,” he shot back.
“Well, you got the wrong message, got it?” she said defensively, the tears streaming down her face once more.
He actually seemed dumbfounded.
“And I don’t need you involved in my personal business.” She backed away, her hands still covering her chest. “I plan on working for you because this is the best job I can get right now, but you need to know I want other things out of life—other things—”
“The house wasn’t enough?” he interrupted, all his acid cynicism filling each word.
She stared at him, unable to comprehend that a short walk could produce such emotional damage.
“Are you forcing me to quit? Is this where this is going?” she asked, defiantly wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
He released a cold laugh. “Yes, Miss Meadows, this is the rich guy’s diabolical plan, don’t you see? I get the whole blasted town to come to my ranch for a barbecue tomorrow with you running the show, and I force you to quit the night before the fiasco. Brilliant, isn’t it?”
He walked up to her and roughly buttoned her shirt. “Let’s go,” he said, taking her arm.
“Where?” she asked, heartsick and exhausted.
“Back to the ranch. You’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow for me, Miss Meadows.” He gave her a caustic glance, one that sent a shiver of fear through her bones. “And if you plan on continuing as my employee, don’t forget that I demand perfection.”
“I can handle perfection,” she answered in a small but cool voice.
He looked at her. His face lit up beneath the street lamp on the corner, and she swore he took her words as a challenge. The expression on his face was filled with smirking doubt, and the light that gleamed in his eyes gave no assurances.
She looked away, stumbling as she tried to keep up with him.
Certainly she could handle perfection.
But the flawed, magnificent male animal that he was—well, even she had to admit she had her doubts.
Six
JJ James and the Outlaws played a lively two-step, children chased each other through the elated crowd, parents ate spareribs and there wasn’t a cloud in the deep azure sky.
“It’s the best danged Mystery BBQ Sizzle we’ve ever held,” Hazel declared, the cattle baroness with her usual noblesse oblige drinking a beer in a bottle like her own cowhands behind the bandstand.
“And it’s the last one I’ll ever put together,” Kirsten announced, her emotions still raw from the night before.
Hazel took a long, hard look at her leaning against the tent pole. “Something wrong, missy?”
Kirsten shut her eyes, exhausted. “Hazel, believe me, the last thing I want to do is look like an ingrate. As usual, you’ve done too much for me. I mean, you even helped with Mom’s medical bills, but…” She sighed. “I don’t know. I think I’m in over my head with this crowd. I don’t understand any of them.”
“All you’ve got to understand is your boss, Seth Morgan.”
“I know. I know,” she affirmed. “And yet he’s the one who’s the most confusing.”
“Is he giving you mixed signals? Now, why would he do that, do you think?” Hazel suddenly came to life like a bear who’d found honey. She all but rubbed her hands together in glee.
Kirsten almost laughed. “Nope. Trust me. The signals are all too clear.”
“Well, what kind of signals are they?” the old gal demanded.
A terrible thought suddenly occurred to Kirsten. “Hazel, this job—I mean—you didn’t plan on this being some kind of matchmaking scheme, did you?”
“Certainly not! What kind of friend do you think I am, cowgirl? You said you needed a better job, and I figured Mr. Morgan’s offer ain’t hay, so I threw you to it.”
Hazel did an excellent job of looking affronted. In fact, Kirsten almost believed her.
“It doesn’t matter, Hazel. I’m not accusing you of anything. Nothing’s going to happen between me and my boss in any case, because I can guarantee it won’t. But with that issue aside, the job is still difficult.”
“How so?” Hazel took another beer from the cooler, looking suddenly a bit deflated.
“It’s just—well, it’s just that when Dad left, I knew I wanted more out of life than what my mom had. She settled for something less than love for the lifestyle and security, and she ended up with nothing. I’m not doing that. No matter what. It’s all or nothing for me.”
“Good girl,” Hazel confirmed.
“But this Wall Street crowd.” She shrugged. “I’m out of my element. I don’t understand any of them. It’s so easy for them to go from bed to bed. Nothing means anything to them, not even love. I guess when you have so much to fall back on, you don’t need life to mean anything—but not me. I just don’t work that way.”
“Sounds like this is turning into more than a job to me,” the cattle baroness prompted, her Prussian-blue eyes suddenly aglitter.
“No. It’s just a job. I guarantee you.” She studied the older woman. “But I do want to know one thing, Hazel. Why did you sell to him? I mean, of all the people in the world who’d love a piece of your ranch—why him? What made him so worthy?”
The cattle baroness took a long sip of her beer. She seemed to contemplate her words good and hard.
“You know me, Kirsten. The best way I can explain it is I’ve never been able to see a person go a-wanting. I couldn’t let him go a-wanting, either.”
Kirsten gasped in disbelief. “Wanting? The man wants for nothing. Nothing.”
“It wasn’t the land he wanted. Hell, he could have gotten a ranch anywhere. And I didn’t have to sell to him. You know that. I
’ve sent bigger wolves than him back to the city with their tails between their legs after they ask to buy me out.”
“Then why?” Kirsten asked, nothing making sense now.
Hazel met her gaze. With a wisdom that was beyond even her seventy-plus years, she said, “Sometimes a person can go a-wanting most when he has everything. Sometimes city folk are the loneliest people on earth, but it’s not from having no company—too much company there, if you ask me. That’s why I’ll never leave Mystery.”
Kirsten wondered if she understood. “Are you telling me it’s something bigger than the land Seth wanted?”
“Maybe. What do you think?”
She wasn’t sure.
Her hesitation and uncertainty must have shown on her face, because Hazel said, “He’s only your boss, cowgirl. You don’t have to answer the question, just work for him. In fact, I’m wondering—just a little, mind you—why you want to know all these things?”
A sly smile tipped the corner of the cattle baroness’s pretty mouth. “Unless, of course, you want to figure him out—but then there go all your guarantees, right out the barn door with the pony.”
“Hazel, you’re wicked, you know that? Just plain wicked.” Kirsten nudged her. “But then, you haven’t gone up against Seth Morgan either, and I don’t see your schemes working there.”
“Never underestimate age and treachery, my dear.” The famous blue eyes winked at her. “I make eight seconds every time.”
Kirsten laughed at the woman’s bull-riding metaphor.
The only thing she could think to say next was, “Gee, I’m way overdue for a drink.”
Grabbing a cold beer, she left Hazel to her machinations and surveyed the crowd once more to see if anyone needed anything. The band was on break, but the crowd seemed to have enough ribs and cold drinks not to notice.
“Kirsten.”
She turned around, surprised to find James standing there. He was staring at her, a hungry look in his brown eyes she knew all too well.
“Band on a break?” she asked, hiding her surprise beneath a pleasant tone of voice. “You guys really sound good, by the way.”
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