by Jo Leigh
She was still curled up in his bed, sound asleep. He’d checked on her after he’d finished with Erica and Zee. He’d been anxious to share his latest brainstorm, but she’d looked so peaceful and content that he’d merely tucked the sheet around her and given her a soft, lingering kiss.
They would have plenty of time to talk once he’d worked out all the details.
“I’m not pissing anything away,” Rance told his business partner. “I’m stepping down as spokesperson for Extreme Dream and letting you take full control of the company. I’ll be a silent partner.” His voice grew softer, more serious. “I can’t do it anymore, Shank. I don’t want to do it. I want to go home.”
Silence settled on the line before Shank finally spoke. “Well, it’s about damned time.”
“I don’t mean to leave you high and dry. I’ve already worked out a deal for a new spokesperson, or rather, a team of them—what did you say?”
“I said it’s about damned time. I’m sick of seeing you live out of a suitcase. Sure, it’s been good for business. As your partner, I can’t complain. But as your friend, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been tempted to fire your ass and hire someone else because you were too stubborn to at least slow down a little.”
“How come you never said anything?”
“Would it have done any good?” Without waiting for a reply, Shank went on. “You forget that I’ve known you a helluva long time. Now tell me about this extreme dream team you’ve got planned that’s going to make us both even richer than we already are…”
WHEN DEANIE finally forced her eyes open, sunlight streamed through the window. Her thighs ached and her nipples tingled as she forced herself to a sitting position. She blinked once, twice against the fog of sleep and then glanced at the clock.
Her gaze didn’t make it past the cowboy hat that sat on the nightstand. The previous night rushed at her.
Sex, she told herself as the images played in her head.
But truthfully, it had been more.
The proof lay in the way her stomach fluttered and her heart pounded when she remembered. And the sudden rush of loneliness that swamped her as she stared at the empty spot next to her.
It was a feeling she knew all too well.
No!
Panic gripped her and pumped her heart faster. Deanie bolted to her feet and rushed around the room, searching frantically for her clothes. She blinked back the tears that burned her eyes and fought to get a grip on the emotion pushing and pulling inside her.
She wasn’t doing this again.
There would be no falling apart, no moping around, no feeling her heart shatter into a million pieces because her heart was not—repeat not—involved. Last night had been wonderful, but it was over. She was going to handle the situation like a mature adult, get herself together, and get the hell out of Rance’s room before he came back and made her decision that much harder.
When he touched her, he stirred too many memories and she started to fall in love with him all over again.
Fall, mind you. She wasn’t actually in love.
Not completely.
Not yet.
Which meant she could still get out of the situation without making a complete idiot of herself.
Yanking on her clothes, Deanie slipped from his room and headed down the hallway for the elevator.
With her shoes dangling from one hand, she punched the elevator button and prayed with all of her heart when the doors finally opened that she wouldn’t come face-to-face with him.
Obviously someone upstairs was listening because the doors slid open and no Rance.
Instead, Deanie found herself staring at a very old, very naked man.
RANCE HAD NEVER felt better in his entire life.
He decided as much when he hung up the phone with Romeo’s one and only real estate attorney. Not only had Rance found the woman of his dreams but, as of five seconds ago, he’d offered an obscene amount of money to the new owner of Romeo’s old rodeo arena and taken the first official step back home.
Excitement pulsed through him as he headed through the lobby toward the gift shop to pick up something for Deanie.
He was just about to turn when someone let out a shriek. He whirled just in time to see a woman sprint past him. She had snow white hair and pale skin.
A lot of pale skin.
From her head to her toes, and every naked inch in between.
“That’s her!” someone shouted. “That’s the streaker!”
A half dozen security guards bounded through the lobby after her, but they were too late. She’d already disappeared through the double glass doors.
Rance quickly found himself rounded up as one of the witnesses and ushered toward the security office.
He was just about to pull open the door when someone pushed it open from the inside.
“Deanie.”
At the sound of her name, her head jerked up and her gaze collided with his. Joy flashed in her green eyes for one fast, furious heartbeat and Rance felt his own heart kick into action.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him.
“I’m about to give a statement. That streaker damn near ran me over in the lobby.”
“I saw him, too. All of him this time. But it was on the elevator. I just gave a description.”
“Him? But it was a her.” Not that it mattered. All that mattered was the woman standing in front of him. “I really need to talk to you—”
“Can you two do this later?” The tall, beefy head of security came up behind Rance and motioned him inside the office. “I’ve got a lot of people to talk to.”
“Just a second,” Rance told the man. “This is important. Deanie.” He turned back to her. “About last night—”
“You shouldn’t keep Mr. H. waiting,” she blurted. “The sooner he can catch this guy, the safer everyone will be.”
“Guy? It’s a woman, honey.”
“Whatever. Look, you go on and do what you need to do.”
“But I just want to say—”
“We’ll talk later,” she cut in. “Go. I’ve got to get going myself. I’ve got a few things to do.” She darted past him and headed for the elevator.
“Meet me in my hotel room.”
She didn’t answer or spare him another glance.
An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Rance’s stomach and he had the crazy urge to run after her, haul her into his arms and kiss her goodbye.
Goodbye?
It wasn’t goodbye. Not this time. Rance McGraw wasn’t going anywhere except right back where he belonged, and he was taking Deanie Codge with him.
After last night, he had no doubt that she still had feelings for him. And now she knew he had feelings for her. It was just a matter of working out the details.
DEANIE HANDED what little she had over to the concierge and tried to calm the anxiety that had followed her since she’d run into Rance. And the guilt.
She hadn’t actually said she’d meet him, she reminded herself. She hadn’t said anything. She’d just rushed up to her own room, gathered her things and rushed back downstairs to check out before he finished his meeting with the security officer.
Coward.
Maybe so. But she preferred the term self-preservationist. She glanced at her watch before chancing a look around. No Rance. No naked men. Just a very sad looking Savannah Sierra Ellington.
The young woman sat on a nearby sofa, her eyes red and swollen. Her cheeks puffy. Tiny black streaks of mascara trailed down her face.
“Savannah?” Deanie sank down next to the woman.
She glanced up, her blue eyes watery. As if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, she smiled and wiped frantically at her face. “Hey, there…Deanie, isn’t it?”
Deanie nodded. “Are you okay?”
“Why, certainly.” She set the cell phone she’d been holding aside and pulled a tissue from her designer purse. “I’m just a little tired.”
“
Big night last night?”
“You bet.” She pulled out a compact and flipped it open. “My word, would you look what the cat dragged in? It’s a shame what a dozen margaritas and a night of dancing will do to you.”
“So you had fun?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” She hesitated as she stared into the mirror. “I’m single and carefree and I danced with oodles of men last night. I certainly don’t need that lowdown, no-good, two-timing boyfriend of mine.”
“The one who cancelled on you at the last minute?”
“That’s the one.” Her expression faltered and she stared at her hands. “It really wasn’t all that last minute. He hasn’t called in two weeks. That right there should have told me he wasn’t interested. But I kept telling myself he was just busy. Turns out, he’s a jerk.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged and tried for another smile. “But what the hey, right? Easy come, easy go. I’m not letting him mess up my vacation. There’s plenty more where he came from.”
That’s the trouble, Deanie thought as she watched Savannah pull a tissue from her purse, wipe her cheeks and head for the ladies’ room. There were plenty more jerks out there and Savannah would undoubtedly find another one before she could down her next margarita.
She’d find another and he would treat her bad because that’s how she expected to be treated. Despite her I’m-all-that attitude and her hot clothes, she didn’t feel all that hot deep down inside.
Deanie had seen the insecurity in her eyes when she’d stared into the compact mirror, and she’d recognized it.
Because Deanie had felt the same inadequacy.
The same longing to be good enough. Pretty enough. Woman enough.
“Your cab’s here.” The concierge’s voice drew her around and Deanie started for the front glass doors and the cab that had just pulled up to the curb.
A handsome man in his sixties, impeccably dressed in a designer suit, climbed out and pulled a money clip the size of Texas from his wallet just as Deanie pushed through the rotating doors. He peeled off a hundred dollar bill, murmured “Keep the change,” to the driver and turned to run smack-dab into Deanie.
“Excuse me,” he exclaimed as her purse hit the ground, along with the small bag of clothes she’d purchased yesterday. “I didn’t see you.” He dropped to his knees at the same time that Deanie did to help her gather up her things. “I usually watch where I’m going, but I’m just so late.”
“A business meeting?” Deanie asked as she gathered up several tubes of lipstick that had spilled out of her purse.
“I’m meeting someone. The someone.” His brown eyes started to shine and he paused, his hand stalled on Deanie’s new sundress which had spilled from the bag. “She’s the most wonderful someone in the world and the most patient. I swear, I don’t deserve the likes of Mavoreen.”
“Mavoreen Rosenbaum?” When he nodded, Deanie blurted, “You’re the billionaire.”
His eyes took on an excited gleam. “Do you know her?”
“We met on the plane.”
“And she mentioned me?” When Deanie nodded, he smiled. “Isn’t she an extraordinary woman? A pearl among old, corroded oyster beds. A diamond swimming in a sea of cubic zirconia.”
“Mavoreen?”
He stared at Deanie, his expression serious. “I know she might not be the most beautiful at first glance, but she’s got this confidence. You know, I’ve dated supermodels. Actresses. Wealthy women with the best plastic surgeons. They all had looks, but nothing to back it up. They were beautiful, but they didn’t feel beautiful. Mavoreen feels it, and it makes her beautiful.” He shook his head. “I really should get going. I don’t want to keep her waiting any longer than necessary. I’ve written a poem for her and I can’t wait to read it.”
Deanie smiled as she watched the man disappear into the lobby.
It seemed as if Mavoreen wasn’t all that delusional after all.
“Are you ready, ma’am?”
Deanie turned at the sound of the cab driver’s voice.
She wasn’t delusional either. Maybe Mavoreen had beaten the odds, but she was the one and only. For the most part, exceptional men like Rance didn’t fall head over heels for not-so-exceptional women like Deanie.
Not then.
And certainly not now.
Deanie climbed into the cab.
THE UNEASINESS RANCE had felt stayed with him as he gave his statement to the security officer and fielded several phone calls from Shank and the real estate attorney. It took a half hour before he finished with everything and returned to his hotel room, and he felt every agonizing second.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he called out when he opened the door.
He stepped inside the room, only to find it empty.
His hat still sat on the nightstand next to the bed. He set the bouquet of roses he’d picked up downstairs on the tangled mass of sheets. Visions of silky arms and long legs wrapped around him flashed in his mind. Heat skimmed over his flesh, but it didn’t warm the fist of coldness that had settled in the pit of his stomach.
Turning, Rance made a visual search of the room again, all the while fighting against the truth that niggled at his gut.
She was gone.
Maybe not. Maybe she’s in her own hotel room waiting for you.
But he knew she’d left even as he dialed the front desk. He felt it in the slow thud of his heart and the ache in his chest and the damned loneliness that wrapped around him and tightened like one of those giant snakes he’d tangled with during his last competition.
“You just missed her, Mr. McGraw,” the concierge said. “I loaded her into a cab myself. She’s halfway to the airport by now.”
Rance let the receiver slide into place, his arms suddenly heavier than they’d felt in a long, long time. He tried to swallow, but his throat felt tight. His gut ached and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. For the first time, he understood how Deanie had felt that day he’d left her behind.
Her hurt. Her disappointment.
The realization gripped him for several heart-pounding moments, and then he did what she hadn’t done all those years ago when he’d been the one to leave.
He went after her.
13
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Rance’s voice slid into Deanie’s ears as she took her boarding pass from the attendant at the terminal desk.
“To Eden. As planned.” She started toward the doorway that opened up onto the runway.
The plane sat several feet away, the door open, the portable staircase firmly attached. People climbed the stairs, boarding the plane that would make its next stop in Eden before returning to Miami.
“Deanie.” Her name sounded a heartbeat before he caught her arm in a firm grip and brought her whirling around to face him. “Stop. Just stop.”
“I can’t.” She did her best to look anywhere, everywhere but into his mesmerizing gaze. “They’re boarding.”
He caught her face between his hands. “We need to talk.” Determination glittered in his eyes, along with something else.
Something fierce and possessive and…
No.
It couldn’t be.
She fought down the hope that blossomed inside of her and held tight to the anger and humiliation she’d felt the day he’d stuffed his suitcases in the back of Clay’s old pickup and climbed into the passenger’s seat without so much as a backwards glance.
Her brother had driven him to the airport that day where he’d boarded a plane for Texas A&M and the football scholarship that awaited him. She’d watched the truck turn into a cloud of dust on the horizon and then she’d cried so hard her eyes had been swollen for days.
But her heart had hurt even longer.
Because she’d let it, she reminded herself. She’d practically handed it to him on a silver platter to do with as he pleased.
Not this time.
She’d offered her body last night, but her heart was still her own and
she intended to guard it, to fight for it.
“Look, Rance, you don’t owe me anything. I’m a big girl. I know that last night was just sex.”
“It was just sex.” His hands fell away from her face and he caught her free hand with one of his. “Incredible sex. The best sex of my life.”
“Meaning?”
“You can’t get on that plane.” When she started to protest, his fingers tightened around hers. “You don’t need Camp E.D.E.N. You’re a sexy, beautiful, desirable woman. The past twenty-four hours proves it.”
“Maybe, but now it’s over. You get on with your plans and I get on with mine. Isn’t that what you had in mind yesterday? Deal with me and get on with your life?”
“Yes, but—”
“But what?”
“It’s not that simple anymore.”
“It is.” She blinked back the tears that suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. “Let go. Please.”
His grip loosened, but he didn’t release her. “I’m not going to Australia. I’m going back home to Romeo.”
“And?” She fought against the hope that refused to let loose of her.
He was going home.
Now.
Finally.
Meanwhile, Deanie was headed for Dallas and the rest of her new life.
“Didn’t you hear me?” He touched her cheek with his free hand. “I’m moving back to Romeo.”
Strong fingers played across her cheek and she barely resisted the urge to turn her face into his palm. “What about Extreme Dream?”
“I’ll still be a partner. A silent partner.” He let his hand fall away and shook his head. “I can’t do it anymore. Alligator wrestling isn’t for me. Just like football wasn’t for me. Not really. I was good at it, but only because I was strong and determined and I could take a man down in no time flat. And that,” he told her, “came from rolling around in a rodeo arena all those years while I was growing up. Football was just convenient. A way to use the skills I’d already developed.” His gaze darkened. “It was a way out. My only way out, but it wasn’t my passion.”
“Steer wrestling,” she said and he nodded. “So you’re going back to Romeo to wrestle steers?”