He chuckled. “Okay, tell me straight up—have you ever done that before? On the phone, I mean?”
“No way! Have you?”
“Thought about it, but couldn’t see dialing a professional at a nine hundred number. I don’t like sex to be a business transaction, ya know?”
“I find that sweetly reassuring.” She eased into the overstuffed armchair, feeling wickedly depraved. She sat bare-ass naked…sensually aware of the chair’s texture and the evening breeze from the window…feeling better than she had since Michael drove off. “Of course, no matter where you go, every woman in sight wants you.”
He let out a soft snort. “Tell that to the gals at my uncle’s casino. Seems my quest for fiscal information and accountability was a real turn-off.”
Diana felt light inside, like butterflies were dancing. “Ah, but giving you sex and giving you incriminating information are two different things.”
“I miss you, angel. In a bad way. And it’s not just about the sex, either.”
She blinked. He sounded genuinely lonely. Sincere about wanting to be with her. “I miss you, too, Michael. A helluva lot more than I anticipated.”
“So join me! I can fly you to—”
“You know I have to see to this ranch sale business, and—and—” Her heart thundered so hard she couldn’t think straight. Was he offering to buy her airfare? And what would it mean if she went? “Michael, I can’t let Pohlsen pull any fast ones or bully me out of my property.”
“And I would never, never want you to do that.” His voice shifted, as though he were sitting up straight again. “You want me to pursue my dream, sweetheart, and I fully expect you to challenge the bank’s foreclosure. I intend to help you, too.”
She shut her eyes against sudden hot tears. “You don’t have to—”
“You didn’t have to loan me a truck, either.” When he paused, something bumped against the phone receiver. A glass with ice cubes, maybe. “But I don’t like you being at the ranch alone, either, like a sitting duck on Jerry Pohlsen’s pond. He’ll use me against you, every way he can. And I—I love you too much to let that happen.”
She fell back against the chair. “Michael, you can’t—”
“Not promising we’ll always be together. Not saying we’ll get married,” he explained in a low voice. “But what man wouldn’t love you, Diana? You’re loyal and sweet and generous. And you have this hot little curve to your ass that drives me nuts, okay?”
Diana let herself down slow and easy from their escalated conversation. “I’m in lust with you, too, cowboy. Before you came along, I was more depressed than I knew. Ready to roll over and play dead, far as letting the bank take the place. That’s all changed, thanks to you.”
“Good. Now will you come join me?” he pleaded playfully. “I’m competing in Cody, Wyoming, over the Fourth of July, and then I’ll ride in the Indian Relay in Sheridan. What a rush that is, riding bareback, hellbent for leather, in paint and feathers and a loincloth! I would love to have you there cheering me on, angel.”
He played her like a violin. Just enough pathos in his voice, just enough pretty words to convince her she could do something so frivolous as leave the ranch…
And why is that frivolous? How long’s it been since you had a vacation?
Diana couldn’t recall. It was long before Garrison got sick, because he wasn’t one for trips. No place suited him as much as home, sweet home. And while she’d understood that about him—and she cherished their time at this ranch—she had felt penned in at times. Curious about what she’d see beyond the Montana state line, and about how other people spent their leisure time. How did they leave the day-to-day stuff behind and go play?
Lord knows Michael can show you how to play!
Her body twitched. As she sat naked in the armchair, with her legs dangling over one arm, Diana so badly wanted to believe she’d find a new reason to laugh and rejoice. “All right, I’ll think about it—”
“Do you have a PayPal account? I can deposit some money—”
“But I’m meeting with Will Killiam,” she continued firmly. “I have to know he can turn things around with this bankruptcy, or I’ve got no business leaving. Like a captain goes down with his ship, I’ll go down with Seven Creeks if it comes to that.”
“I’d rather have you go down on me, Diana. Soon, okay?”
Her stomach butterflies danced a jig. So many things to consider, like how she’d get to the airport and what would she wear? And what if the locals—and Pohlsen—got wind of her running off to be with Michael again?
“Stop thinking so much,” he said firmly. “I want a yes or a no. And if you say no, I’ll understand.”
“Yes! Yes, I’ll come. But how will I—”
“Leave the details to me, angel.” He bumped the receiver again, and she pictured him sipping a drink on his bed…imagined his raven hair hanging past his shoulders…flowing loose over his smooth, dark skin. She wanted to be the glass he held to his lips.
“All right,” she finally breathed. “All right, Michael. You win this one.”
“Nobody loses!” he said with a laugh. “Get out your calendar, and figure out when you can come. And leave it to me to see that you’ll come wherever and whenever you want to. Are you with me?”
Diana closed her eyes against tears of joy. “I’m with you, Michael. And—and I can’t wait to be with you!”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. Good night, angel,” he purred. “And I do love you.”
Click. His words lingered…words spoken too soon to seem believable. But she believed. She believed with all her heart.
Diana held the phone to her chest…let all the sensations settle in. Michael White Horse loved her…wanted to be with her…was sending airfare, maybe as soon as the Fourth of July—which was only a week away! She had a gazillion things to do before then!
Yet she remained in the chair’s arms, pretending she was in Michael’s lap. It felt so damn good to have something to look forward to! She’d give Will Killiam a call tomorrow—
“Well, Mrs. Grant, I didn’t have the heart to interrupt that cozy little phone chat. But since your windows are wide open, I couldn’t help but hear it, either.”
Diana froze. Pohlsen’s voice drifted through the front window, where the breeze fluttered the curtains—which were not shut, damn it! She bolted from the chair. Slammed and locked the bedroom door, and then scrambled into her jeans and shirt. Damn that man! Didn’t have the heart to interrupt—but didn’t have the decency to leave, either! And now he knew of her plans to rendezvous with Michael, and—hell, she was so flustered she didn’t remember anything else she’d said! But he would.
She glared toward the front window. What she wouldn’t give to have a shotgun—just for effect. Jerry Pohlsen’s sneak-attack visits were becoming such a habit, maybe she should take one of Garrison’s guns from the locked cabinet. Violence wasn’t in her nature, but Michael had pegged her situation, saying she was a sitting duck on Pohlsen’s pond.
She had the right to defend her ranch, and to defend herself. The banker had to know she was here alone, and that it wasn’t right to drop over unannounced and then eavesdrop on her conversations.
“Just came by to see that everything was all right,” he wheedled. “And to see if you’ve reconsidered, about turning over your land. You can avoid the humiliation of having your neighbors at an auction if you’ll just—”
“I refuse to hand over this ranch,” she blurted. “So you might as well leave. Now.”
His chuckle flickered like the tongue of a snake. “Sounds like White Horse got you all fired up, Diana. Do you really think he’ll bail you out? He’s only interested in one thing, and—”
“So are you. Get the hell off my porch, or I’m calling 911.”
The banker let out a derisive snort. “If the ambulance and fire truck get here and see there’s no emergency, you’ll be charged for—”
“Oh, there’ll be an emergency, all
right. They’ll be hauling your ass away on a stretcher after I use it for target practice.” Her stomach knotted. She knew better than to make threats she couldn’t carry out, because Pohlsen was just weasel enough to call her bluff—and then harass her again.
“So who’s this Will Killiam?” he shot back. “If you think some hot-shot lawyer can get you out of—”
“I think that’s none of your business!”
His laughter put her scalp on edge. “Fritzi’s got a contractor drawin’ up plans for the new resort home I’ve promised her as an anniversary present,” he said in an oily voice. “And meanwhile, folks hereabouts’ve heard about you runnin’ with that no-account red man…turned your back on all the principles Garrison stood for. Everybody loved him, Diana. They’ll have no sympathy for a two-bit whore who’s sold out on her husband.”
There was no answer to his blatant insult, and Jerry Pohlsen didn’t deserve any more of her time or attention. She fought the urge to throw open the door and go out swinging, but that would give him more opportunity to bait her—and who knew what else?
Diana turned out the lights. Stood in her living room, behind a chair. She kept her cell phone in her hand.
“I’m leaving, but I’m not gone,” he called out as he descended the stairs. His SUV purred into motion and cruised slowly down her driveway, to taunt her by his presence—his power—for every possible moment.
When he reached the road, she let herself cry. But she’d done so much of that this past year, it didn’t have much therapeutic effect. Diana thumbed in the number at the bottom of Will Killiam’s business card. She didn’t expect him to answer at this hour, but at least she could leave him—
“Hello? Will here.”
Diana closed her eyes. “Will, it’s Diana Grant. I—I called you earlier about—”
“Yes, of course, Diana. You asked me to help you with your situation there at Seven Creeks Ranch.”
His businesslike demeanor soothed her. She hesitated, but her plea came out of its own accord, along with a sob she couldn’t suppress. “I—can you come tomorrow instead? Jerry Pohlsen just showed up again, uninvited and unannounced, and I—”
“I’ll be there by nine with breakfast. Will that work?”
She exhaled, suddenly exhausted. “Thank you,” she breathed. “I can’t thank you enough.”
She turned off the lamp. Stood alone in the darkness. How would she ever afford a big-time attorney like Will Killiam?
12
“I’ll issue a restraining order against Mr. Pohlsen. With information I’ve gathered, I can postpone the auction date while we pursue other avenues of repaying your mortgage, Mrs. Grant.” Will Killiam’s grin waxed boyish yet edgy across the kitchen table. “Nothing I like better than going after bastards who break the law because they believe they’re above it. If you’ll pardon my French.”
“No matter what language you speak, it’s an ugly situation.” Diana bit into a danish pastry, reveling in its cream cheese and apricot filling. “Wow, is this a treat. How’d you know these goodies from Klineschmidt’s were my favorite?”
Michael was right: his college roomie was a looker and he knew how to work it. Will wore a crisp oxford cotton shirt rolled to his forearms, a loosened tie, and his sandy brown hair fell in a neat yet trendy fetlock over his forehead. “Inside information never hurts,” he replied cryptically. “And that’s what we’ll nail Pohlsen with, too. Are you comfortable with what we’ve discussed?”
“What’s not to love about muzzling Pohlsen? And postponing that damned auction?” she said, sighing. “He’s been swooping like a buzzard ever since Gavin died, telling me I couldn’t possibly repay—”
“I’m so sorry about your ordeal,” he said quietly. “Organ transplants are miracles, but sometimes they backfire. So much hope and time and money at stake, to have your dreams shattered a few months later. And to have your bank threatening your home is unspeakable, Diana.”
She could see why women went after this guy. He was so compassionate…as compelling as Michael White Horse, in his way. Yet Will was quite different from his college roommate. “I can’t imagine you and Michael sharing a room. Totally different personalities and…lifestyles.”
“Don’t let the clothes fool you,” he said with a chuckle. “Michael was a shirt-and-tie guy at the casino. Finest number cruncher I know.”
“Yet his expertise alienated him from his family and his tribe,” she mused aloud. Didn’t hurt to snoop for details about the man who was still a mystery in many ways.
“And that’s too bad, considering how—” Will stroked his hair back from his eyes, watching her. “I don’t know how familiar you are with his situation. And friends don’t spill the beans on friends.”
His grin was something to behold. Diana nodded as she reached for her third helping of fresh strawberries and melon wedges. “He told me about the gal running off with his twins. Didn’t go into detail, but he was pretty torn up about it.”
“He was crazy in love with Carina, but she was poison. Here today and gone tomorrow—and it wasn’t the first time she’d pulled such a stunt.”
“She’s had other kids? And run off with them?” Diana’s eyes widened.
“Some women can’t commit. And some guys are too nice about it.” Will gazed around her kitchen. “That wasn’t the problem here, though. Everything about this place speaks of love and devotion—which is why this ranch is not going to be chopped into resort properties.”
That’s what she’d hoped to hear, but how could he sound so positive? His card said he was from Missoula, so why would he give two hoots about her ranch north of Wolf Point?
“From what I could dig up about the bank’s financial positioning, and the specs in their proposal, Pohlsen and his crew have bitten off way more than they can chew, or construct at a profit,” Will continued.
Her stomach clenched. “They’ve already drawn up plans?”
“I’m afraid so.” He leaned forward, smiling kindly. “But having plans and having a done deal are often miles apart—the daydreams of guys who want to throw their clout around. Did you know, for instance, that our friend Mr. Pohlsen intends to run for congress in the next election?”
“Jerry?” She nearly spewed coffee at him.
“His behavior toward you isn’t prudent, for a man aspiring to political office. But I’ve got what I need right here.” He tapped his pad with his mechanical pencil.
She still wondered how all this was falling into place so neatly, considering the nightmare she’d endured last night with Pohlsen. “Thanks for taking me at my word, Will. Some folks are pretty good at name calling and finger pointing, and I’ve been on the receiving end ever since…well, since I met Michael.”
A sparkle flickered in his eyes. “And how did you two meet? You’re not the type he usually…falls for.”
Would anything she said be used against her if this attorney got chatty with the wrong locals? “I stopped in at the highway cafe because it was raining so hard I couldn’t see,” she recalled in a faraway voice. “I’d just gotten the sale ultimatum from Pohlsen. Had been crying my eyes out, so I left my sunglasses on when I took the last seat at the lunch counter—which happened to be beside Michael.” She shrugged, unable to suppress a grin. “One thing led to another.”
“From what he’s told me, it was a damn lucky happenstance—which means he and I have discussed the…particulars,” Will confessed with a quirk of his lips. “Guys do that, so don’t get upset—”
“Jerry Pohlsen has broadcast those same particulars, after he barged in on us.” Diana sat straighter. How should she feel, knowing Michael had divulged some very personal information?
Maybe it means you’re his woman now…
“I was so damn glad to hear excitement in Mike’s voice again—especially when he was talking about a woman.” Will lightly gripped her wrist, his hazel eyes shining with gratitude. “And yes, I know he’s buying you a plane ticket, and I want you to go without a mo
ment’s hesitation. The ranch’ll still be here when you get back, Diana. And it’ll still be yours.”
She grinned and let her shoulders relax. “Michael filled me in on you, too, you know.”
“So you already know I’m the most cutthroat, bad-ass attorney in Montana, and—”
“He told me not to barter my services for yours. Had he been within reach, I would’ve smacked him,” she added with a short laugh. “But that brings up the matter of payment. As in, how much will this cost me, Will? Despite the state of my bank accounts, I’m a woman who pays her bills.”
“Which I knew from the get-go.” He stood, announcing the end of their meeting, and extended his hand. “You haven’t seen any results yet—and it might take me a while to set these events in motion—so don’t concern yourself with my bill.”
“But I can’t just—”
“Yes, you can, Diana.” He gripped her hand firmly as he shook it, and his gaze didn’t waver. “Let me get the debt monkeys off your back, and meanwhile I want you in the stands cheering your heart out for my best friend while he rides those broncs.”
As she rose from the table, her cell phone jangled. “Isn’t it just like Michael to call now, as though he knows we’ve been talking about him?” she said with a snicker. Then she spoke into her phone. “Good morning, Michael! Will and I were just talking…”
With a signal that he’d wait, Will went out to the front porch. She watched him gaze out over the pastureland as she drank in the sound of her cowboy’s husky voice.
“So you ready to fly west, angel? Can’t wait to peel down your panties when you get here!”
“But, Michael, I don’t know what to pack! Or what to wear! Or—”
“So leave your clothes at home,” he purred. “You could be waiting for me in the motel room, naked and spread out on the bed, when I get done riding each day. And then, little lady, this bronc buster would take you for a spin like you’ve never known the likes of. You with me?”
Diana giggled nervously. Never in her life had she had such a conversation, and it made her feel like she was twenty-one again, on top of a world that held endless possibilities.
Tempted by a Cowboy Page 16