Wyoming Rugged

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Wyoming Rugged Page 25

by Diana Palmer


  Her eyes softened. “Jacob Todd Blair?” she suggested.

  He smiled back. “It sounds good.”

  “It sounds very good.” She touched her fingers to his lips. “I’ve loved you since I was seventeen, you know,” she told him softly, laughing at the shock on his face. “I just had to grow up enough to convince you I was old enough for you.”

  He touched his mouth to hers. “You convinced me,” he said on a husky laugh. He searched her eyes hungrily. “My little hothouse orchid. I love you insanely.”

  She felt warm inside, cherished and secure. “I love you back, insanely,” she whispered intently.

  His mouth crushed down on hers for a few heated seconds until the baby moved restlessly in his mother’s arms. They both looked down at him then, their hands locked together over his small body. And they beamed.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from FORTUNE’S SECRET HEIR by Allison Leigh.

  When tycoon Ben Robinson enlists temp

  Ella Thomas to help him uncover family secrets, will the closed-off Prince Charming be able to resist the charms of his beautiful Cinderella?

  Read on for a sneak preview of

  FORTUNE’S SECRET HEIR,

  the first installment in the 2016

  Fortunes of Texas continuity,

  ALL FORTUNE’S CHILDREN.

  “Palmer is the queen of desperado quests for justice and true love.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Dangerous

  If you loved Wyoming Rugged, be sure to also catch these other great epic reads from New York Times bestselling author Diana Palmer:

  A Husband for Christmas

  Wyoming Tough

  Wyoming Fierce

  Wyoming Bold

  Wyoming Strong

  Don’t forget these other thrilling tales, also by New York Times bestselling author Diana Palmer!

  Dangerous

  Merciless

  Courageous

  Protector

  Lawless

  Invincible

  Untamed

  “This is an action-packed, joyous return to Palmer’s fictional Jacobsville, Texas... Invincible is quite suspenseful and infused with plenty of delightful, sparkling dialogue.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  All available now in ebook format.

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

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  Fortune’s Secret Heir

  by Allison Leigh

  Chapter One

  For a long moment, Ella feared she’d gone too far.

  Then the storm clouds faded from Ben’s eyes and his voice turned smooth again. “I am like my father. Always have been. Something a nice girl like you would do well to remember.”

  Even through her knit mittens and his overcoat, she could feel the tension in his muscles. “That sounds like a warning.”

  “I said you were intelligent from the get-go.”

  She moistened her lips, even though doing so just made them colder. “I felt a lot safer with Randy’s flirting than I do right now.” She could not fathom the insanity that made her admit it aloud. Maybe it was the way she couldn’t drag her eyes away from his.

  “Much as I disliked seeing him flirt with you, you were definitely safer.”

  Her chest felt so tight it was hard to breathe. She imagined she could see her own reflection inside his eyes. “Ben—”

  He took a step back and pulled her hand once more through his crooked arm. “It’s getting cold standing here, and Bonita’s chocolates are waiting.”

  She figured that the famed street would be spectacularly beautiful during warmer months. And it wasn’t without charm now, with snowflakes drifting around them, dusting the buildings and the snow-plowed street with a fresh coat of white.

  Maybe someday she’d visit Boston while the trees were green and the flowers were in bloom.

  But now she was here with Ben.

  She exhaled and fell into step with him again.

  They eventually reached the chocolatier’s shop, which was set down a short staircase from the street level and was smaller inside than she’d envisioned. But the very air was sinfully redolent of chocolate confections and she couldn’t help but admire the beautiful displays behind the glass-fronted cases. “I’m gaining weight just looking.”

  A woman wearing a pristine white apron and a black bow tie appeared, and Ben gestured at one of the larger boxes on display. “Give me one of that size and fill it with anything chocolate that has a nut in it. It’s for my secretary and she doesn’t touch chocolate without nuts. Nothing fruity, either.”

  The clerk plucked an empty box from under her counter and tucked shimmery white tissue paper in it before deftly beginning to fill it with chocolates of every size and shape.

  “Your secretary is a lucky woman,” Ella said dryly, because she’d noticed the tastefully discreet price tag that was even more enormous than the box itself.

  “Indeed, she is,” the clerk agreed. She stopped near Ella to select several round confections topped with walnut halves. “Would you like a sample of anything?”

  “Oh.” Ella shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

  “Sure, she could.” Ben stepped next to her, touching her shoulder as he leaned over to examine the displays.

  “Your husband is right.” The clerk’s hand hovered over the trays of precisely arranged chocolates. “Perhaps a white ganache or an almond praline?”

  Ella opened her mouth to correct the clerk, but Ben’s hand moved to the back of her neck, scorching even through the scarf, and the words caught in her throat.

  “Give her one of those Manhattan truffles.”

  She almost did a double-take at the quick wink he gave her. Instead, she just felt heat course down through the rest of her from the source at the back of her neck. When the clerk set a silver foil cup containing a glossy round truffle on top of the glass, she quickly picked it up and sank her teeth into it, biting off half.

  Dark, heady chocolate dissolved blissfully on her tongue, but it was nothing compared to having Ben slip the other half of the truffle out of her fingers and pop it into his mouth.

  She actually felt faint and considered tearing off her coat to run into the snowy outdoors for relief.

  “There’s a first,” Ben murmured. “Our first whiskey truffle together.”

  The clerk fit the lid in place on Bonita’s chocolates before sliding the box toward Ben across the glass. “You sound like newlyweds,” she said with a benevolent smile. “I can always spot the newlyweds. Can I get you anything else?”

  “Pack up a dozen of these.” He flicked the empty foil cup and slid a credit card toward her in exchange.

  “My pleasure.” The clerk took the card and greeted a customer who entered behind them before moving toward her cash register.

  Ben’s hand fell away from Ella’s neck and she moved near the door where she had a slim hope of catching her breath while he finished paying for his purchases.

  The snow was falling even harder when they went up the short flight of stairs to reach the street level. “Why did you let her think we were married?”

  “It’s the theme for the day
, evidently.”

  “Yes. Karma for you lying to Randy about being my fiancé.”

  She was grateful to see Johnny and his car waiting at the curb and aimed straight for it.

  The driver opened the door for her, and she ducked her head and climbed in, sliding across the seat for Ben to follow. Once Johnny closed the door after Ben and got back behind the wheel, she sat forward to offer him one of her Manhattan truffles.

  “Don’t mind if I do, miss.” He plucked a round truffle from the small box and popped it in his mouth before pulling out into the traffic that hadn’t lessened a speck despite the snowfall. “Back to the hotel, sir?”

  “I thought we’d hit Little Italy for dinner, but it’s still early.”

  “Already be a line forming outside of Giacomo’s,” Johnny said. “Always is.”

  Ella pulled off her mittens and unwound her scarf, since the car interior was toasty warm and she still felt like she was burning up from the inside. “What’s Giacomo’s?”

  “Best Italian joint in the North End.” Ben set the large bag containing Bonita’s chocolates on the seat between them while he pulled out his cell phone and studied it. “They don’t take reservations and there’s hardly any space inside, but it’s worth the wait every time.” He returned his phone to his pocket, then pulled open his coat and dropped his scarf in the bag with the box of candy. “Give Ms. Thomas the city tour, Johnny. And turn down the heater. We’re roasting back here.”

  Ella couldn’t help but wish that the cause of his overheating had less to do with the town car’s heater and more to do with her.

  At least then he’d be sharing her discomfort.

  The warm air blowing from the heating vents disappeared and Johnny launched into his role of tour guide again as he drove through the city, pointing out landmarks, some famous and some so obscure she felt almost certain he was pulling her leg. He ended in the North End, dropping them off at Ben’s request on Hanover Street in front of the restaurant where a line of people stood outside on the sidewalk, not seeming to care about the weather as they waited.

  It took the better part of an hour, but eventually it was their turn to weave their way through the closely set tables crowded inside the small restaurant. They sat at a table for four with two strangers and Ella’s bemusement only increased from there. Wine. Seafood. Pasta. It was loud and noisy and delicious and so close that Ben’s knees were pressed against hers beneath the table the entire while.

  And for the first time since she’d met him what seemed so much longer than a mere week ago, he seemed to actually relax, not checking his phone for the entire time.

  After the filling meal, she expected Ben would want to return to the hotel, but again he surprised her, choosing to walk to a nearby pastry shop where he insisted she try a cannoli. And even though she was positively stuffed, she managed to consume half of the delicious cream-filled dessert before begging off. “I’m going to explode,” she told him plaintively, “if you keep feeding me like this.”

  He smiled and finished the cannoli the same way he had her chocolate truffle. Then he pulled her out of the pastry shop and down the street a few more doors into a dimly lit pub, where she sat on a high bar stool at the crowded bar and Ben stood so close beside her that she felt engulfed by him.

  It was more intoxicating than the wine, the food and the desserts could ever be.

  Her head was already spinning so she was grateful when Ben, looking amused, ordered her a soda in place of the cognac he’d ordered for himself.

  When they finally climbed into the rear of the town car and Johnny dropped them off in front of the hotel, it was after midnight.

  “Thank you, Johnny,” she said when he opened the car door for her yet again. “I feel like I had a personal tour guide.”

  He beamed. “My pleasure, miss.”

  Ben shook the driver’s hand and Ella couldn’t help wonder if there’d been an exchange of cash in the action. The snow had stopped falling when they’d had their dinner, but now the night was even colder, an icy wind cutting easily through her layers, and she hurried inside the hotel.

  At that time of the night, the gloriously beautiful lobby was nearly deserted and when Ben pressed the call button for the elevator, the doors slid open immediately.

  Feeling unaccountably edgy, she pushed the button for her floor and moved to the back of the car, leaning against the wall. He might be able to put aside the things they’d said on the street outside of the chocolatier’s, but she wasn’t finding it so easy.

  Ben hit the button for his own floor and the doors glided shut, closing them in alone. “Tired?”

  What she felt was wired. And he was the single cause of it. But she shrugged her shoulders, leaving him to interpret it however he chose. “Johnny should have been tired. But he didn’t seem to be. I hope he gets paid well by the hotel.”

  “He doesn’t work for the hotel. He has his own business. Employs ten other drivers the last time I asked.”

  “Impressive.” She looked at the floor display. The elevator seemed to be crawling. Even though they had the entire car to themselves, Ben had chosen to lean in the corner less than a foot away from her, his hands stretched out against the rail that ran the perimeter. The glossy shopping bag from the chocolate shop hung from his thumb that he tapped slowly against the rail. The rustling the bag made as it swayed sounded loud, but not as loud as the thumping inside her chest. “Thank you for dinner and...and everything.”

  He inclined his head slightly, his eyes typically unreadable. “Now you can say you’ve seen at least a bit of Boston.”

  “Yes.” She stared down at the carpeted floor and moistened her lips, wishing the elevator would hurry up. When the doors dinged softly a moment later, she automatically stepped forward, only to feel Ben’s hand clasp her arm.

  Her eyes flew to his face, but he was looking at the elevator doors, and she realized they were opening to admit more hotel guests and they hadn’t reached her floor yet at all.

  She subsided, and Ben tugged her even closer when the elevator continued to fill with the increasingly boisterous group until her back was pressed against his chest as she stood directly in front of him, his hand on her waist through her coat.

  She stood stock-still, even though she had the worst desire to sink back into him.

  The other guests were clearly celebrating and they tumbled out again a few floors later. Alone again, Ella had no reason to remain plastered against Ben and she gave him a smile that felt awkward and tight as she stepped away. “Looks like they were having a good time.”

  His eyes were hooded again. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Ella.”

  She started. “I’m not afraid of you!” She looked at the floor display again. She felt like an absolute idiot and didn’t like it one bit. “Maybe you should be afraid of me,” she muttered, proving that she was still fueled by too much wine, sugar and the intoxication of him.

  Before he could respond—if he even wanted or intended to—the elevator stopped again, this time at her floor, and the moment the doors opened, she stepped off. “Good night, Ben.”

  Then the doors closed again and Ella’s shoulders slumped.

  She hauled in a deep breath and made her way to her room on legs that felt like mush.

  * * *

  Ella presented herself at Ben’s suite the next morning exactly two minutes before nine. She wore her navy skirt once again, this time with a silky white tee, and she left the blazer b
ehind.

  Ben answered her knock and seemed thoroughly back in his usual mode, with his cell phone at his ear with one hand and a newspaper in his other. He gestured at the dining table in his living area. “Breakfast. Help yourself.”

  She didn’t have to ask if Randy was already there; she could see for herself that he was not. She crossed the room and studied the breakfast selection laid out on the sideboard. Ben had enough food there to feed a dozen people, and she filled a plate with fluffy scrambled eggs, two slices of crispy bacon and a blueberry muffin of decadent proportions. Then she sat at one end of the gleaming table and tucked in.

  She felt famished and blamed it on fruitlessly chasing Ben through her dreams all night long. It was just as well that he didn’t join her at the table, instead pacing around the living area as he made one call after another, clearly conducting business as usual even from a distance. She hadn’t finished even half of her food when they heard a knock on the door.

  Ben gave her a look and went into the adjoining room, pulling the doors closed.

  She huffed out a breath, trying to rid herself of her nervousness, and crossed the room to open the door. “Good morning, Randy.”

  Even though it was a Saturday, he was dressed in a dark suit and tie every bit as professional as Ben’s. But unlike every time she looked at her handsome boss, the effect from Randy was totally wasted on her. She invited him in, gesturing at the breakfast spread across the room. “I hope you’re hungry. Mr. Robinson has a small feast here.”

  Randy’s gaze was frankly curious as he entered the suite and looked around. “Is he here?”

  She didn’t want to lie outright, even though this entire exercise was based on pretense. “He’s on a call,” she said. “He’ll join us if he is able.” She led the way to the dining area. “Can I pour you a coffee or some juice?”

 

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