Treasuring Amber: The Temptation Saga: Book Five

by Hardt, Helen;

  What was the woman’s name? Megan? Martha? Something with an M. Were there photos of Laura too? Of course there were. She’d seen Laura’s head between her own legs. She grabbed the laptop.

  “Hey!” Blake said.

  “Shut up, you creep. Let me see this. Get that web site back.”

  Surprisingly, he fired up the computer and brought it back up. She grabbed it away from him, clicked on the home page, and found the index of the girls’ names. Sure enough, Laura Lee. Laura still worked at Rachel’s and probably had no idea she was all over this web site.

  She shook her head. She felt for her friend, but right now Laura was the least of her worries.

  “I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “Like I said, I’m a reasonable man.”

  “What is this web site?”

  “I told you. It’s a paid site. Patrons of Rachel’s can see the girls in action. Indulge their fantasies.”

  “How do you know about it?”

  “I know people.”

  “Who?”

  “Not your concern.”

  “I’d say it’s very much my concern. What happens if I do pay you off? Then no one in Bakersville finds out about this. But I’m still plastered all over the net and anyone who pays for the privilege can see me in photos I had no idea I posed for.”

  “Again, not my problem.”

  She gulped and mustered all her strength. “It just might be, after all. Extortion happens to be a crime, you know.”

  “You think anyone will believe you? Look at your background, Amber. You were a stripper. You posed for photos.”

  She clenched both fists. “I did not pose for photos!”

  “You can say that till the cows come home, but we have the physical evidence right here. Trust me, no one in Bakersville will know where these photos came from. They won’t know they came from me. You can blab it all over town that Blake Buchanan tried to coerce you into paying him to keep the photos secret. Still, the photos speak for themselves. Do you think people will care whether I tried to get money out of you? Do you think they’ll even believe it? Hell, no. They’ll be too busy gossiping and sneaking looks at the goods. You’ll be ruined in this town.”

  She shook her drooping head. He’d beaten her. “And every other town I try to escape to, I assume, unless you get your money.”

  “Now we’re speaking the same language.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I can. Because I need the money.”

  “I told you, I don’t have it.”

  “You have a week.” He turned off the laptop, closed it, stood, and walked to the door. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Amber slammed the door, ran to the bathroom, and emptied her stomach.

  Chapter Nine

  Amber had been crying on her bed for an hour when her cell phone rang.

  “Hey, baby, it’s me.”

  Harper. She sniffed. “Hi there.”

  “Listen, I know this is short notice, but can you come to my place for dinner tonight?”

  She was a mess and a half. She had to turn him down. “I’m sorry. I can’t, Harper.”

  “Do you have other plans? If so, change them. This is worth your while, I promise.”

  An evening with Harper could do wonders for her, but it would only be a temporary fix. It pained her to turn him down. “I said I can’t.”

  “Baby, what’s wrong? You sound all nasal.”

  “I’m fine. It’s just…allergies. Terrible hay fever.”

  What a stupid lie. But maybe he’d buy it.

  “Take an antihistamine then. And get yourself all prettied up and come to my place for dinner.”

  Can’t he take a hint? “Harper, if you want sex, I don’t think—”

  He laughed. “Of course I want sex, Amber. You’re hot, and I like you. But that’s not what this is about. Just say you’ll come. Please?”

  “I really can’t.”

  “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

  Of course she wouldn’t regret it. She’d never regret spending time with him. But she was screwed up right now. Her eyes were swollen and her nose red. She glanced at the clock beside her bed. Two.

  “What time?”

  “How does six sound?”

  Four hours. Could she get herself together in that amount of time? God knew she needed something to get her mind off the mess she was in. She couldn’t accomplish anything toward her goal of twenty grand on a Sunday evening. Why not spend it with Harper?

  “Okay, I’ll be there.”

  “Great! I can’t wait to see you. Bye now.”

  “Bye.”

  She turned her head back into her pillow and cried some more.

  * * *

  An hour later she steeled herself and rose from the bed. A quick look in her bathroom mirror and she considered calling Harper to cancel. She looked like death, to put it bluntly. Not death warmed over.

  Just death.

  Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks and hair matted with tears and snot, her skin pasty and gray, her nose so red she could double as Rudolph.

  Like an idiot, she’d neglected to get the web site information and password from Blake Buchanan, so she couldn’t do any research on her little problem. He hadn’t left a number, just said he’d be in touch.

  Asshole.

  She turned on the shower and cranked the water as hot as it would go. She needed heat, and then she’d splash her face with cold when she got out. Hopefully that would avert some of the swelling.

  She washed her hair twice and conditioned it with a hot oil treatment. When she dried off and looked at her face, she was pleasantly surprised. She splashed several handfuls of cold water over it, and she looked almost normal. Eye drops got rid of the red eyes. Her eyelids were still slightly swollen, but probably not noticeable to anyone who didn’t know to look for it. Now if she could just keep from crying until after she got home from Harper’s.

  That’s all it took—just that one thought and tears started to flow. She gulped them away. Nope. Had to stay strong at least for tonight. Heck, for tomorrow too. She had to go into work. She needed all the money she could make right now.

  She dried her hair and pulled it into a high ponytail. The stretch would make her face look less cried out. Well, it was a thought anyway. She put on just a touch of makeup and lipstick.

  She dressed in a denim miniskirt and silk blouse. She slid on navy mules and pronounced herself fit—as well as could be expected—for human eyes.

  She had an hour before she needed to leave, so she got her tablet out and Googled Rachel’s. Time to find out what might be going on.

  Marta. That was the woman’s name. She was European—German, or Austrian. Amber never knew which one. She went only by Marta. She wasn’t stuck with a stupid stage name like Ambrosia Love.

  Maybe she didn’t need one.

  She wore leather and furs and diamonds, all gifts from the men she serviced, Amber had assumed at the time. Now she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps she made her own money…by luring unsuspecting new young strippers to her place to get drunk and have their photos taken.

  Amber shook her head. Surely alcohol couldn’t have been responsible for this. She and Laura must have been drugged. But with what?

  Tears threatened again, and she clicked off her tablet. No use crying over spilled milk, or alcohol, or whatever they’d given her.

  Damn it, I want a nice evening with Harper. And she would have it. She could lose it tomorrow.

  She had no doubt she would.

  Her body remained tense during the half-hour drive to Harper’s ranch house. She tried breathing in through her mouth, out through her nose, and finally gave up. Relaxation wasn’t to be.

  Tonight she might forego her two drink minimum. Some alcohol might be just what she needed.

  Course she really didn’t want to go there. Not with the genes she carried inside her. And certainly not with what she’d just lea
rned had happened one of the two times she’d allowed herself to get drunk.

  She’d have a nice glass of wine. Harper liked wine and he seemed to know a little bit about it. She’d had half a glass with him last night, after all. And that was after she’d had two cosmos at the party.

  Course it was a lot later that she had the wine, so she hadn’t really violated her own rule.

  One glass of wine. Hopefully it would relax her.

  Maybe with a valium chaser?

  Sheesh.

  She drove onto the Cha Cha ranch property and followed the directions Harper had given her. Soon his ranch house came into view. She liked his house. It wasn’t huge and sprawling like his mother’s a few miles away, or Catie’s that she shared with Chad.

  Modest was nice. More her style.

  She parked, walked to the door, and knocked.

  Harper opened it, looking just as tousled and sexy as he always did. How did his hair always look so charmingly disheveled? It just begged her to run her fingers through it. His muscular rancher’s body looked heavenly in jeans and a black western shirt.

  McCray boys be damned. Harper Bay was the most handsome man in Bakersville.

  “Hey, baby. It’s great to see you.” He pulled her close and gave her a smoldering kiss.

  The familiar jolts coursed through her. God, this man affected her like no one else.

  “So what’s the big surprise?” she asked.

  “What makes you think there’s a surprise? Maybe I just wanted to have dinner with you.”

  His eyes gleamed. Mischief. He was up to no good.

  “Stop kidding around, Harp. I’ve had a day and a half.”

  “You have? What’s wrong, baby?”

  Aw hell, what’d I go and say that for? She sure didn’t want to get into that with him. Not tonight. “Oh, just my allergies and all.”

  “I didn’t know you had allergies.”

  That was because she didn’t. “Just some hay fever. It acts up now and then.”

  He took her hand. “So what did you do today?”

  “Other than sneeze my ass off? Just went to the grocery store.” And got blackmailed. Nothing much.

  “Would you like a drink? I learned how to make a cosmo just for you.”

  “Did you?” God, he’s sweet.

  “Yup. Got one all ready for you. I even tasted it, and you know what? It’s not half bad.”

  “Of course not. Do you think I’d drink something bad?”

  He furrowed his brow. “It’s pink, Amber.”

  She let out a laugh. “That’s the splash of cranberry, genius.”

  “Yes, I know that. It’s just, I never thought a pink drink would taste good. But it’s pretty good.”

  “It’s basically a vodka martini with some triple sec and a splash of cranberry juice, Harp. It’s not all that girly of a drink.”

  “Yeah, but it’s pink.”

  She shook her head, smiling. “So you’ve mentioned.”

  He handed her the drink. “Aren’t you having one?”

  “I don’t do pink drinks.” He grinned.

  “What are you having then?”

  “A vodka martini.”

  She laughed again. “You’re too funny. So are you going to tell me what my surprise is?”

  “It’ll be here soon.”

  “Oh.” She perked up. Granted, she’d had a shit day, but she was like a little girl when it came to surprises. She loved getting presents. Always had. She’d gotten darn few in her lifetime. She took a sip of her drink. “Not bad, cowboy, for your first time.”

  “Thank you.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

  Damn, he was good-looking. Shudders ran down her spine and settled between her legs. She hadn’t thought it possible to get turned on tonight, after the day she’d had. But Harper Bay could do it to her.

  “Go on out to the deck and have a seat,” he said. “I thought we’d eat outside. It’s such a warm night for the end of April.”

  “Sounds good.” Actually it sounded great. Amber loved the outdoors, and Colorado was such a beautiful state.

  “I’ll be out in a minute. I want to take care of a few things.”

  “Okay.” She went outside and stood on the deck, inhaling the fresh evening air. The peaks of the Rockies glowed violet and indigo against the azure sky spotted with fluffy clouds. The sun was an orange ball sitting atop the snowcapped mountains. She inhaled again, ignoring the aroma of cow that crept by.

  She took a seat at his patio table. It was set for three.

  Three?

  So her surprise was a person?

  Who could it be?

  Before she had time to think, the French doors opened with a squeak behind her. She stood and turned to see Harper and a nice-looking older man with dirty blond hair and golden eyes.

  Harper’s dark eyes sparkled. “Amber, I’d like you to meet Thunder Morgan.”

  Chapter Ten

  Amber’s pulse pounded inside her head. What the fuck has he done? She was in no condition to meet her birth father. She’d just been blackmailed, for God’s sake. To be fair, Harper didn’t know that, but still, he was interfering in something that wasn’t his business. Who did he think he was, anyway?

  “Harper”—she forced a smile—“may I see you inside for a moment?”

  “What’s up?”

  She steadied her breathing, afraid she might lose control. “Just something I need to get your opinion on in the kitchen. You don’t mind, do you, Mr. Morgan?”

  “Not at all.”

  She clenched her teeth. Could this day get any worse? “We’ll only be a minute.”

  She dragged Harper through the kitchen and out into the living room where she could be sure Thunder Morgan wouldn’t hear them.

  “What in God’s name were you thinking?”

  “Relax.” He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t tell him anything. I just gave him a call when I got back home this morning and found out he was in Denver for a few weeks. So I invited him up for dinner. He’s a great guy. I want you to get to know him.”

  Amber stared at him. He was actually serious. “And exactly what do you propose I say to him? ‘Hi, I’m the daughter you never knew you had?’”

  “Of course not. As far as he knows, at least for tonight, you’re my friend. My date. Whatever you want to be.”

  “What I want to be is not here.”

  “Amber, come on. I didn’t tell him your last name, so no worries. I thought you’d be happy to meet him.”

  “You caught me off guard, Harper. Jesus! Don’t you think I might have liked a little time to prepare for this?”

  “If I had given you time to prepare for it you would have freaked out.”

  “Uh…yeah. Kind of like I’m doing now?”

  “I mean you would have freaked yourself out into a frenzy before he ever go here. Now you can just go with the flow.”

  She paced around his Berber carpet, sure she was wearing tracks in it. “Does this look like a person who’s going with the flow?”

  “Calm down, baby. You’re going to get along great.”

  “So I’m just supposed to—what?—talk about what exactly? What do I have to say to a bronc buster?”

  “You’re the rodeo queen. You have a lot in common. You represent the rodeo.”

  Yeah, the rodeo queen. If Blake Buchanan had anything to say about it, she’d be dethroned in a week’s time.

  “And a few days ago you talked about learning barrel racing.”

  She rubbed her temples. Her interest in barrel racing seemed like a lifetime ago. Yet he was right. It had only been a few days ago. Why, oh why, had she ever wanted to race? If she hadn’t, Catie wouldn’t have introduced her to Blake Buchanan, and he wouldn’t have recognized her from Rachel’s and started snooping around on the Internet.

  What if, what if, what if?

  What if her mother hadn’t kicked her out? What if she’d been able to get work doing nails and had never gon
e to Rachel’s?

  She sighed. Life was full of “what ifs.”

  “Amber”—Harper traced her lower lip with his finger—“I’m sorry if this isn’t a surprise you particularly wanted. I thought you’d be happy. I wouldn’t do anything to make you unhappy.”

  “I know that.”

  “But I invited him here. He’s a friend of my family. And right now we’re being rude.”

  She nodded. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry. I just wish I knew what to say.”

  “You’re good with people. I’ll start him talking, and then you just pop into the conversation when you’re ready, okay?”

  “Sure, I can do that.” She let out a breath. “I guess it’s now or never then.”

  “Come on.” He took her hand. “You’ll be great.”

  * * *

  Thunder Morgan had led an interesting life, traveling the rodeo circuit. He’d even done German rodeos for a while. He had a wonderful sense of humor, and soon Amber was laughing until tears formed in her eyes.

  Her eyes.

  They were almost identical to his.

  Did he notice?

  “Did you ever regret not settling down?” she asked.

  “Well, not overly,” he said. “Sure, it would have been nice to have a wife to come home to and kids to carry on the name, but would it have been fair to them? Would it be fair to a wife to never be home, to never help her with the kids? Would it be fair to the kids to have to grow up without a father?”

  A lump formed in Amber’s throat. “I see what you mean.”

  “I was a traveler. For a while I didn’t keep a permanent residence at all. I just hit circuit after circuit, winning purse after purse, putting away what I could for a rainy day. When you’re in the rodeo, you know you can’t do it forever. It’s kind of like pro football. Your body eventually says no more.”

  “Seems you had quite a good run,” Harper said.

  “Yup, a sight better than most.”

  “Do you keep a permanent residence now?” Amber asked.

  “Sure do. On the western slope. Not too far from Harper’s ranch out there.”

  “I told you that Thunder used to work at Bay Crossing, didn’t I?” Harper said.