by Seton, Cora
Renata ducked out from under Greg’s arm and flounced off to congratulate Harris and Samantha. Greg faced Clem. “You’ve got lousy timing.”
“I’ve got impeccable timing,” Clem informed him. “The last thing the world needs is you and Renata getting together making a bunch of little Renatas.” He shivered dramatically.
And Greg knew what was really going on. “You’ve got the hots for her.”
“Do not.” Clem backpedaled.
“Sure you do. But she’s mine, got it?” Greg went to join Renata and tried to put his arm around her again. She evaded him.
“Stop that.”
“Renata—”
“Greg.” Curtis came over to their group. “I’ve got something for you. Want to see? It’ll just take a minute.”
“Sure. Be right back.” Greg left Renata reluctantly, but it seemed like courting trouble to stay.
Curtis led the way to one of the outbuildings where a grimy cloth covered something on a workbench. When he whipped the cloth away with a “Ta-da!” Greg had to smile.
“That’s awesome! When did you make this?” It was a 3-D topographical map made in such a way that his little carved buildings could sit on its contours.
“Last night,” Curtis said. “Wasn’t hard.”
“It’s great. Let’s take it back to the bunkhouse.”
Once there, he cleared all the buildings he’d carved off the side table so Curtis could put it down, then rearranged the buildings where they went. This was ten times better than what he had before.
“It still needs a better table,” Curtis said.
“This will more than do for now.”
Everyone clustered around to check out the model, and soon they began making suggestions for changes.
“That last house is too far over,” Jericho said and nudged it into position.
“You need to carve the manor now,” Addison said.
“And you need trees. All of this part is forested,” Avery pointed out.
“This is so cool; we can use it to try things out, too,” Riley said, leaning over the model. “Like, if we wanted more greenhouses or a pagoda or something, we could try it out on the map first.”
“You want a pagoda?” Boone asked her.
“I kind of always have,” she told him.
“Someday we’ll need more tiny houses,” Clay said. “Where are we going to put them?”
Clem, who was making sure his camera crew was documenting the scene, snorted. “Expanding is the last thing you lot need to worry about. Packing is more like it. Pretty soon you’ll all have to clear out of here and the bulldozers will flatten the place.” He swept a hand forward, knocking over most of the buildings. Greg caught his wrist before he could knock them to the floor.
“Hey,” Clem said, trying to pull free.
“Don’t. Touch. My. Stuff,” Greg said. He let Clem go, and the director stumbled back a few paces. Clem noticed the cameras filming and straightened up.
“You’re pretty cocky,” he said. “We’ll see how you feel when this is all over.”
“Right back at you, pal,” Greg said.
“Come on,” Clem said to his crew members. “There’s nothing interesting going on here.”
Renata was still thinking about Harris and Samantha’s announcement after dinner after a long day of shadowing Avery and Walker, doing her best to help them with the animals and other chores, then following Avery to the manor, where Avery was working on a film project. She’d brought along her own laptop and tried to answer emails and other small tasks, but she’d found it hard to concentrate. Clem was working hard to keep her out of the loop, and he made sure to keep all the camera crews busy.
Two women were pregnant now—plus Nora, who was already several months along. That more than satisfied the baby requirement for them to win permanent ownership of the ranch. It took the pressure off everyone else, too. If she married Greg, there’d be no necessity to try to conceive quickly.
She wasn’t going to marry Greg, she kept telling herself.
It would be fun to try to conceive quickly with him, though, some insurrectionist part of her brain kept answering back.
Despite her best efforts not to, she kept imagining the two of them in various scenarios—trying for a baby. They’d have to be together morning, noon and night, she supposed, sighing at the longing that curled deep within her, such a crazy desire given her circumstances. She figured Greg would be just as dexterous with her body as he was with everything else he did if she ever gave him the chance.
Was she being dumb holding herself aloof from him? What if she just—
Married him?
They’d have their wedding at the manor, Renata knew. A wedding night together. Sheer bliss, probably, she admitted.
Then the day after, when Fulsom relieved her of her place on his payroll, she’d have to tell Mayra and Gabriela she had no more money to send them. Too bad, so sad.
She didn’t think she could do that.
Renata huffed out a breath. Why had none of the magazines and newspapers that loved to write about Fulsom’s every last exploit never noticed the extraordinary number of singletons in his employ? She wondered if his HR people ever brought it up. Surely it was a lawsuit in the making, but she wasn’t going to try to take on one of the richest men in the world in court. She wasn’t dumb.
If this was a normal situation and she and Greg were dating, she’d tell him she wanted to take it slow, really get to know him, and would stretch out their courtship for as long as possible. Then, if he proposed, she’d tell him about her promise to the girls in Peru and work that much harder to pay off her obligation so they could marry.
She tallied up the amount in her head again—the new, larger amount with the cost of the bus’s motor added to it.
Renata shook her head at herself. Look at her, ready to upend her life for Greg—
“What are you thinking about?” Greg asked.
She hadn’t even heard him approach. Renata took a sip from the cold cup of tea she held in her hand. She’d been at a bit of loose ends after dinner, without a task at hand, whereas everyone else knew exactly what to do, and she had poured herself the cup just to have something to fiddle with.
She didn’t have a ready answer to Greg’s question, not without exposing the risqué places her mind had wandered—or her financial difficulties. He must have showered recently. He smelled clean, and his short, dark hair was still damp.
“Uh… nickels. I was thinking about our game. Figuring I could beat you again.”
“You were thinking of beating me?”
He made it sound so overly suggestive, Renata laughed. “What else is there to think about?”
“I suppose this is where I say I want a rematch?”
“Do you?”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “Sure. Why not.”
Renata glanced over her shoulder and caught Clem looking their way. What a perfect setup for making money, she decided. Not from Greg—from Clem. But only if she played this right.
“All right, then,” she said loud enough for everyone in the bunkhouse to hear. “I can beat you again if you like.” She went up on tiptoe and kissed Greg’s cheek, mostly to capture Clem’s attention but a little bit to make up for what was going to happen next. Greg was a good guy. He didn’t deserve to be used to swindle Clem.
For a moment, she was caught up wishing she and Greg had met somewhere else. They’d have gotten on well together, considering the way they were able to find the humor in situations when they were alone. When she found him poring over information about his energy systems or staring off into space thinking about how to improve them, she liked the way this strong, capable man wanted to use his brain to make others’ lives better. She couldn’t pretend it wasn’t a turn-on that he’d set his sights so firmly on her. How did he know he wanted to marry her? She wished she could ask.
Greg’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. He caught her around the waist, surprising her, a
nd kissed her back. Renata wished his kisses didn’t affect her so strongly, but she felt them all the way through her body. Found herself leaning into him, spreading her hands wide against his chest. It was all she could do not to twist her fingers in the fabric of his shirt and cling to him.
Renata was sure she was flushed when she pulled back, but Greg’s kiss was a good thing, she told herself, noticing Clem and one of the cameramen drawing near to film the action. She’d accomplished her goal. That was what mattered. Not the zing of desire lighting up every nerve in her body.
They set up the game quickly, clearing chairs away from the wall and marking a foul line. Renata forced her thoughts into calmer waters. She needed to play this well or she wouldn’t get more money out of Clem.
“Ladies first,” Greg said.
Renata obliged him and tossed her coin. She pretended Greg wasn’t anyone special. That he didn’t make her want to throw all caution to the wind and get him alone. She knew how to focus when things got tough. She could focus when they got… interesting.
Despite how flustered she’d been a minute ago, the game played out exactly as she’d planned. She made a couple of wild tosses and let Greg take the lead, Clem’s comments on her lack of skill getting more and more derisive as they went. She made up some of the gap between their scores in the middle of the game until it was a contest again. Lost a couple of tosses, then tied the game at nine–nine. If Greg recognized her pattern from their last game, he didn’t comment.
“Last shot” was all he said and waved her forward.
Renata took the shot and landed her nickel about seven inches from the wall. It was still possible she could win if Greg really blew his toss, but she’d left him enough margin to easily take it.
He did and landed his coin less than two inches from the wall.
“Go, Greg!” Avery cheered.
“You suck,” Clem said to Renata. “You throw like a girl! And you two didn’t even bet. Both of you suck.”
“I could beat you,” Renata said.
Something flashed in Greg’s eyes, warning her he might be on to her little game, but Clem took the bait instantly.
“Like hell you could.”
“Name your bet.”
“A thousand dollars.” Clem’s chin lifted, his grin making her skin crawl. He thought he was so hot, didn’t he?
“Renata,” Greg warned.
“Game on,” Renata cut across him.
“Ladies first,” Clem parroted and gestured the way Greg had at the start of their game.
“Fine.” Renata tossed her coin and landed it nearly a foot from the wall. Clem hooted, tossed his and won the round—
And they were off.
Renata wondered several minutes later how Clem could be so oblivious to the way she was playing him, especially since she’d done this to him before. She kept letting him win a few rounds, then nearly catching up to him again. Clem alternated between glee and fury depending on the score. She let him keep the lead until they tied with seven each.
Then she was merciless.
“Seven–eight,” Avery intoned when Renata made her shot. “Seven–nine. Seven–ten! Renata wins!”
“That’s a thousand dollars, if you please,” Renata said.
Clem swore as he pulled out his wallet. “Beginner’s luck.”
“You’re probably right,” she said innocently. Behind Clem, Greg rolled his eyes. She pocketed the cash. If he kept doubling his bets, she could earn everything she needed in a matter of weeks.
Renata stilled. Was that true?
She thought about the new number she’d memorized after tallying it a half-dozen times throughout the day. That depended on how much Clem was willing to bet. He was easy to throw off his game. Wild to prove himself against her. Reckless.
Possibly hot for her.
What if she could raise the rest of the funds she needed in the next couple of weeks—before Greg’s deadline to marry? What if Clem was the answer to all her problems?
“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s a bad idea,” Greg said in a low voice, moving close to her.
“I want a rematch,” Clem said.
“Hell, no. You’ve taken enough of my girlfriend’s time. We’re going for a walk.”
Renata didn’t protest either the girlfriend part or the walk. She had to play this out carefully with Clem. Making him wait for his next shot at revenging himself would make him all that much more eager to place a higher bet next time. Double their last bet would be two thousand dollars. Then four thousand, then eight, then…
Could she make bets that big?
She followed Greg to the door and let him help her on with her spencer.
“You’re playing with fire,” he said as he opened the door and stepped outside. When she joined him, the cold night air felt good on her flushed cheeks. She let him take her hand and left the bunkhouse—and Clem—behind. Pumped with the possibility she could earn the money she needed quickly, she went up on tiptoe and kissed Greg again. Really kissed him, showing him how much she enjoyed the taste of him, the feel of being in his arms.
“I sure hope so,” she breathed when they parted again.
Reality crashed in a moment later. It wasn’t just the money standing in the way of her being with Greg. She had her career to think about.
No matter what Greg said, no one was going to make Hollywood movies in Chance Creek, Montana.
Chapter Seven
‡
He was the one who was playing with fire, Greg decided as he took Renata’s hand again and led her down the track to Pittance Creek. It was dark out here. Cold. But a moon shone down through ragged clouds, and here and there stars were in view. No snow tonight, at least.
He cast about for something to talk about as they walked. Not Clem, or her seeming need to provoke the other director at every turn. Not her penchant for gambling, either. Something that would pull them together rather than causing them to fight.
“What do you think about Eve and Samantha being pregnant?”
Renata was quiet a moment. “I think they’re lucky. They’ve found their life partners and work that’s important to them. They have a community of friends. Now they’re starting their families.”
“You have work that’s important to you,” Greg said. He waved a hand to encompass Base Camp. “You’re a natural as a director.”
She shrugged.
“Someone told me when Base Camp is over you want to do bigger and better things.” He hated even bringing it up, but he had to know Renata’s state of mind.
“That was the plan.”
“Was?”
“Is,” she said quickly. “I mean, I think… I mean, of course it is.”
She didn’t sound so sure.
Renata sighed. “It’s just—I don’t know. I want…”
“Something different?” he suggested.
She looked startled. At first he thought she would deny it. “I’m just a little burnt out,” she said finally. “I know what I want, but somehow it doesn’t feel like I want it anymore.”
He chose his next words carefully. “What does it feel like you want?”
“Something totally different. Has that ever happened to you? Wanting to clear the slate and try again?”
Greg thought about the way he’d felt leaving Oregon. “Hell, yeah.”
She looked up at him curiously. “Did it work?”
“It did, although not the way I expected. I was young then. I wanted to see the world. Have a lot of adventures. I was totally wrapped up in myself. Then something happened, and I realized I wanted something more than that selfish kind of life. It changed everything.”
“You became a Navy SEAL.”
“That’s right. Is that what’s happening for you? Are you redefining your goals?”
She thought about it. “Maybe.”
“If you stay and marry me, you can do anything you want to,” he said, needing her to know he’d support any decision she made. “Like I said, Ev
e and Sam have the whole baby thing wrapped up. No reason we have to rush to have kids.”
“What if I want kids?”
Don’t answer that, Greg told himself. This was the crux of her dilemma, even if she was pretending it was no big thing. He tried to put himself in Renata’s shoes. She’d worked for Fulsom for years. Pretended to be hard as nails, always focused on her career.
He’d seen the way she’d looked at Savannah and Jacob, though. That longing…
Why hadn’t she spoken of it before?
Probably because of Fulsom, he realized. The billionaire was nothing if not selfish. He demanded a lot from the people he employed, and when Greg tried to picture Fulsom working with a new mother, he could imagine the man’s impatience. Renata had already said she needed money. Needed her job, in other words.
As Renata bit her lip and turned away, Greg guessed she hadn’t meant to express her desire for a child out loud. If he wasn’t careful, she’d become angry she’d exposed something she meant to keep to herself. Time to lighten the mood.
“Baby, if you want kids,” he proclaimed theatrically, “we’ll have them. Lots of them. As many as you want. Give me the word, and we’ll start right now. I mean it, Renata. I’d give the world to be your man.”
He thought she’d push him away, laugh it off and move on to a different topic, but when he leaned in to capture her mouth with his, she didn’t resist. Want and need reared up strong inside him, leaving him struggling to keep his body under control.
The crunch of boots stepping through snow alerted him they weren’t alone.
“Hell,” he whispered against her cheek. “A camera crew.”
A sound escaped Renata, a moan of thwarted frustration that echoed his feelings exactly. They drew apart, and by the time the crew caught up with them they were strolling hand and hand again, even if his gait was a little uneven.
“What happened to change you?” Renata asked after a moment. It took Greg a moment to catch up, but he remembered their earlier conversation.