by Rita Herron
Ty had allowed Dex’s financial advisor Bridget and his grandfather to bulldoze their way through the last meeting. He’d watched completely lost, as if he’d been dropped into a foreign country where everyone was speaking some strange tongue. He fully intended to let them do the same at the hospital board meeting as well. He could handle ornery bulls and the spring roundup of thousands of cattle, but the thought of making a decision about thousands, no millions of dollars, involving life-altering medical procedures scared the bejeezus out of him. At home, if a neighbor was in trouble, the surrounding ranchers pitched in to help. Here, they swooped in to take over the poor soul’s company at the lowest price possible so they could selfishly sell it at the highest.
But Dr. Stovall’s passion for her work intrigued him. He felt ashamed for the way he’reated her yesterday. No wonder she’d been ticked when he’d dismissed her so curtly—he’d thought she intended to seduce him for selfish reasons, when she’d obviously wanted to plead with him to help sick kids, her kids she called them.
And although he’d never been a man who liked suits on women, her dark-green one brought out the green in her eyes, and hugged her body perfectly. He wanted to peel that suit right off. The jacket gaped open to reveal some lacy underthing that reminded him of the underwear he’d seen in a catalog Leanne had once received in the mail. He couldn’t imagine his tomboy neighbor buying it, but his body hardened at the way the lace stroked Jessica’s cleavage when she moved.
Forget it, Ty. She thinks you’re Dex. Besides, she’s not your type.
“These children need our help, gentlemen,” Jessica said, dragging him from his lusty thoughts. “Without it some of them may not receive medical treatment at all.”
His heart twisted at the agony in her eyes.
“There is funding in place,” Grandfather Montgomery interjected. “The Montgomerys contribute to several charities that work with these families as well.”
“It’s not enough.” Jessica’s honeyed voice rang with conviction, her breasts rising with her breath. “Bethesda Hospital is located in a low-income area and draws patients from transient families, immigrants and homes where most single mothers not only work at a minimum-paying job, but also have poor health insurance.”
“That is their choice,” Grandfather Montgomery stated. “We already provide one fund for those in need; we simply can’t give out free services to every one who comes crying.”
Ty sat up straighter, his pulse kicking in at his grandfather’s cold comment. Jessica Stovall’s Irish blood roiled within her. Fire and worry blazed from those fiery green eyes.
“Most of these people are not crying for handouts, Mr. Montgomery. They’re hardworking families who’ve fallen on hard times. Their children have been struck with diseases and illnesses that, unfortunately, require lengthy and sometimes extensive medical procedures which cost an exorbitant amount of money.”
“Dr. Stovall, we’re aware of the problems,” Bridget piped in, “but our company must also maintain a certain financial level in order to operate—”
“You’re operating fine,” Jessica snapped, sending a furious look at Bridget. “Your doctors drive fancy cars and play golf on Fridays while these children suffer.”
Jessica yanked out photographs and began to spread them on the table. “Just look at this little boy. Donny is three years old and has a congenital heart defect. He underwent open heart surgery just this morning.”
Ty saw the faces of his twin nephews in the pictures, and his gut clenched at the thought of one of them undergoing something so frightening. The medical costs would virtually wipe out the Coopers’ ranch.
“There’s a child with leukemia who needs chemotherapy, and this little girl named Ashley was burned and needs skin grafts. Her parents died in the fire that inured her, so she has no one to care for her except an aunt with several children and financial problems of her own.” Color darkened Jessica’s cheeks as she became more impassioned. “Do you want to deny children chemotherapy or surgery, deny them the possibility of seeing another birthday or force them to go through life severely scarred so you can pay your doctors more or put a little more profit in your wallets?”
“Dr. Stovall,” Grandfather Montgomery said sharply. “That is enough.”
Ty snapped, “Yes, it is.” He stood, placing both hands on the table, his eyes glazed as he stared at the precious children’s faces. Jessica had spread out a dozen more photos and he wondered what their stories were, but couldn’t bear to hear any more. He imagined how his family would feel if Angelica or the twins needed medical help they couldn’t afford and no one stepped up to offer assistance. “You’re right, these children are important. We’ll find a way to make it work, Dr. Stovall.”
Jessica’s eyes widened in shock. Beside him, Bridget’s surprised exclamation followed. He didn’t look at his grandfather; he could feel his angry gaze scorching him.
But Ty didn’t care. This was a no-brainer to him. What better use of the Montgomery fortune than to save the lives of innocent children? Surely, Dex would have agreed, wouldn’t he?
JESSICA COULDN’T believe her ears. Had she just heard Dexter Montgomery override his financial advisor and his grandfather and agree with her?
He suddenly extended his big hand. “Maybe you and I can discuss the specifics later, Dr. Stovall.”
“Yes, sure. Thanks.” Jessica accepted his handshake, surprised at the rough calluses on his palms. Where had he gotten those? Did he have some hobby she didn’t know about?
An inkling of a smile twitched at his lips and she felt one forming on her own mouth. In spite of her reservations, heat curled in her belly, a dozen different sensations skittering through her at the dark look in his eyes. She couldn’t flirt with the idea of a personal relationship—not after the pain of her divorce. She wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of girl.
She’d also thought it would take a blowtorch to blast through his iron-clad exterior. Had he softened because of the children or because he wanted to add her to his list of conquests?
“I have to advise you not to meet without me, Dex,” Bridget interjected in a biting tone. She indicated his grandfather who slammed his briefcase closed with a decisive click. “We normally confer between the three of us before we close any type of deal.”
“I said we’ll work out the details,” Dex said, cutting her off. “We can confer over the amounts later.”
Bridget drummed her fingernails on the desk. “I can’t possibly approve this—”
“I didn’t ask you to approve,” Dex said so curtly that Bridget actually took a step backward. Jessica almost chuckled, but the tension rolling off the senior Montgomery stopped her cold.
“I’ll chey schedule,” Dex said. “Maybe we can do lunch tomorrow.”
Jessica nodded dumbly. “Yes, that’ll be fine.”
Dex’s grandfather strode out of the office in a cloud of anger, Bridget on his heels. Dex lifted his hand to his head as if he was going to make some kind of gesture, then dropped it beside him, an awkwardness to his expression. “Until tomorrow, Jessica.”
She nodded again. And she didn’t realize until he’d left that he had called her by her first name instead of her title. He had meant a business lunch, not a date, hadn’t he?
No matter, she would keep it professional. She wouldn’t open her heart to any man, not ever again.
TY SHOOK HIMSELF, trying to dislodge the strange feelings that had overcome him when he’d shaken Jessica’s hand. Hunger had bolted through him, a sexual craving he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
Maybe ever.
He wanted to strip that suit off Jessica Stovall’s curvy little body, touch that soft auburn hair, unwind it from the clip that held it at the nape of her slender neck, and comb the long tresses down over her naked shoulders. Then he wanted to touch her everywhere, until she whispered his name in the heat of passion.
Only she would be whispering Dex’s name, not his.
Reality slammed
into Ty with the force of a concrete boulder.
He could not lust after Dr. Stovall—she led far too different a life for him to even think about becoming involved with her. He wasn’t even the man she thought him to be; if she was attracted to him, it was because she believed him to be his twin—a millionaire doctor who could save her children, not a run-of-the-mill rancher with a few hundred head of cattle to take care of, a man who lived in the country where shopping consisted of a small general store and designer suits were non-existent. Heck, he often smelled like cows and sweat and dirt, not expensive cologne.
No, getting involved with her would be all wrong, and sleeping with her was not an option. For God’s sake, the woman thought he was his brother. And when Dex returned…
As soon as Dex’s uncomfortable Italian leather shoes hit the hallway, Ty felt the tension emanating from his grandfather and Bridget. The elevator ride down lasted at least half a lifetime.
Dammit, he hadn’t meant to be rude to his grandfather or Bridget, but how could they be so heartless as to turn down Jessica’s—Dr. Stovall’s—request?
“Don’t ever override me again, Dex,” his grandfather ground out as soon as they had settled into his Cadillac.
“Or me,” Bridget slammed the car door and crossed her toothpick legs, jiggling them up and down viciously.
“I didn’t mean to override either of you.” Ty hoped he hadn’t messed up Dex’s relationship with his grandfather. Grandfather Montgomery was the only family Dex had. Ty almost felt sorry for his brother. The Coopers would have welcom
“Then what the hell were you thinking?” Grandfather Montgomery bellowed.
“I was thinking about my n…” he caught himself, realizing he’d almost said his niece and nephews. And his twin brother. But Dexter Montgomery had no niece or nephews. “My need to help those kids,” he improvised.
“Your need to help is admirable, son, but you seem to have forgotten the goals of M3I.”
“And maybe we’ve forgotten that the needs of people should come first,” Ty said, his own anger rising.
His grandfather clenched his jaw.
“What’s gotten into you?” Bridget asked. “You’ve never let sentiment get in the way of a business decision before.”
“That’s right, the Montgomerys already donate to several charities,” Grandfather Montgomery said. “And your grandmother hosts a ball for cancer research every year where we raise thousands of dollars.”
Ty had no idea. Maybe his grandparents weren’t so heartless. “I know, and that’s great,” Ty said. “But we can do more.”
“And still improve our profits?” Bridget pinned him with her dark suspicious look.
“Yes,” Ty said as confidently as possible. “I’ll find a way to make it work, just watch.”
His grandfather and financial advisor traded skeptical looks, then closed their mouths and didn’t speak again the entire way back to the office.
Ty stared out the window at the neighboring high-rise buildings, and silently vowed that he would find a way to make it all work. He couldn’t disappoint Jessica.
No, not Jessica, he reminded himself.
Dr. Stovall.
AS SOON AS Ty made it back into Dex’s plush office, he searched the desk for a calendar to check his—Dex’s—schedule for the day. Surely, he didn’t have to face more of these stressful meetings. But he didn’t see a calendar anywhere in sight.
Bridget walked in and shut the door. “Dex, can we talk?”
Ty froze momentarily, silently ordering himself to act nonchalantly—she couldn’t have discovered the truth about him yet. Could she?
“Ye…yes, but first can you tell me where my calendar is.”
Bridget pointed to a little computerized thing in his brief case that resembled a calculator. “In your Palm Pilot, where it always is.” She narrowed her eyes at him, skinny arms crossed. “Now, why don’t you tell me who you are and what you’ve done with the real Dex Montgomery.”
Chapter Six
Ty’s stomach twisted. One day at the of and his financial advisor had already figured him out. Or at least she’d figured he was a fraud.
Would she tell everyone? Would they learn the truth before he even got to meet his Grandmother Montgomery?
Panic gnawed at him. He’d hoped that if the Montgomerys got to know him as Dex, that once they discovered the truth, they would accept him as Ty. Then he and Dex could bring the whole family together.
His grandmother Cooper always told him he was a dreamer.
“Dex?” Bridget tapped her fingernails along his desk.
“What…what do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean you’ve forgotten your Palm Pilot. In fact, you’ve been acting weird ever since you returned from Chicago. You haven’t looked at your schedule all day. You waltz into a business meeting, go soft and offer to cut profits for charity, you disagree with your grandfather, and…” she smiled seductively, “you haven’t acknowledged all the hard work I’ve done while you were gone.”
Relief spread through Ty, along with trepidation.
So, she hadn’t totally figured out the truth.
But he had no idea what sort of thank-you she wanted—business or personal? Dex hadn’t said they were involved, had he? “You know I appreciate you, Bridget.”
He searched his memory and cursed himself for drinking so much beer when he and Dex had been talking. But he’d been so shocked to learn his twin was alive…
“I always knew you were a good man, Dex, and I admire your great mind, but you’re usually much more practical when it comes to business.” She laid a friendly hand on his arm and Ty smiled, pretending the gesture was just that—friendly. If she and Dex were involved, it wouldn’t be right to touch her. Not that he wanted to anyway.
No, if he touched anyone it would be Jessica Stovall.
And that absolutely could not happen.
Dammit, he felt like he was sinking into red mud and had no one to throw him a rope.
He slowly extricated himself from Bridget’s hand. Bridget poked pouty lips outward, then turned and sauntered to the door. “Now, get that business head back on, Dex. I’ve missed you. Just think what the two of us can do together with this company.”
With a flirtatious wink, she opened the door and flitted out into the hall.
Ty clawed his hand through his hair. He had to ask his brother about that woman. Did Dex plan to include her more in the running of the company? And if so, did his Grandfather Montgomery know their intentions? Had he planned to retire soon and let Dex take charge of things?
JESSICA TRIED to forget about Dex Montgomery’s luncheon invitation as she raced into the hospital. The lunch was strictly business, nothing personal. Exactly the way she wanted it.
Didn’t she?
She paused to grab two cups of coffee from the hospital lounge, then nd Donny’s mother in the waiting room and slipped a cup into her hand. “How are you holding up, Diana?”
The young woman looked exhausted but she smiled and hugged Jessica. “Good. They say Donny came through surgery fine, that he’s a real trooper.”
Jessica patted Diana’s back. “Well, we both know that. He takes after his mama.”
Diana beamed. “Thank you for staying with him last night. I wanted to be here.” The woman choked on her emotions and Jessica rubbed slow circles on Diana’s tense shoulders to relax her.
“I was happy to be with him. I know Frankie and Jean-Ann needed you last night. They must have been frightened, too.”
Diana nodded. “We all slept together and said a prayer before I took them to the sitter.”
Jessica thumbed an errant strand of Diana’s shaggy brown hair behind her ear. “It looks like God was listening.” In more ways that one, Jessica thought, remembering Dex Montgomery and the handshake that had confirmed their deal—and his change of heart. Excitement lacing her voice, she proceeded to tell Diana about the wonderful doctor who had promised funding to help pay for Donny’s sur
gery. A brief memory of her own son flashed in her mind, the loss aching as always. She only wished she could have carried him to term, that he’d had a chance.
But at least Donny had a chance now. Thanks to Dex. Dex Montgomery had definitely returned from Chicago a new man, and she liked the changes she’d seen so far.
She just hoped the old one never returned.
THE REST OF THE DAY had passed in a blur of boring business meetings, most of which Ty had endured, letting Bridget and his grandfather run the show.
He had to or he would give himself away.
Back in his office he stared at the computer files and blinked to clear his vision, the glare of the screen making his head pound. Sure, he’d sweated on the ranch, but something about all these high-tech financial equations gave him the jitters. The muscles in his neck were knotted like a rope, his nerves stretched tauter than the fencing he used to hold the cows inside.
To think he’d believed Dex’s job was easy, that he’d be napping by noon. Geez.
After studying the Montgomery files, he’d learned much about the business. He knew the number of medical buildings M3I owned, the number of takeovers they’d managed this year, the goals of the company, the names of various stocks and investments his grandfather held, that his grandfather trusted Bridget, and that she was a cutthroat financial maniac.
He vaguely wondered what she would say about the way he kept his books on the ranch. Granted he had tried to keep up with the times and had splurged for a computer to house his financial records, but his record-keeping was primitive compared to the Montgomerys. The memory of Paula laughing at him surfaced. She would have liked Dex.
Dex had education and money.
Once again, his pride smarted, but he tried to dismiss it, reminding himself that he didn’t need a doctoral degree to run a ranch. He needed common sense, a strong body, a good work ethic and knowledge of the land and cattle. All of which he had.