Taming The Cowboy (She's in Charge Book 4)

by Layla Valentine

  “That’s a half-assed explanation if ever there was one,” I said, my hands going to my hips. “Start over, from the beginning. And don’t you dare leave anything out, because right now, the only thing keeping me from having your ass thrown in jail for fraud is that you really did nearly get fired trying to get out of your little job baiting and tricking me. And spying on me.”

  “They don’t know anything yet,” he protested. “I don’t have to tell them anything you don’t want me to.”

  “That’s a start. But again. From the top, if you’re going to be speaking to me at all. Otherwise I’ll lock you out and have my bodyguard escort you home.”

  He glanced back at Gregory, who glared at him, then looked back at me pleadingly. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said—and then winced when I laughed.

  “Well, you did. A whole hell of a lot. So now, you had damn well better explain yourself, in detail, or I told you what happens.” No more excuses, no more trying to make himself look innocent after the fact. The truth—or I was done.

  As it was, it was taking all my strength to keep from bursting into tears.

  “It’s exactly like I told you. I was desperate. I hadn’t eaten a real meal in three days when my agent caught up with me with the fucker’s offer. He knew I was desperate. So he came at me with something he shouldn’t have.” He clenched his hands together in front of him, low but still almost a gesture of pleading. “Ruth—”

  “I want the bastard’s name,” I snapped impatiently, trembling and hating myself for that. “I want to know who hired you to do this to me.”

  “I don’t know who the client is. They sent a rep, and the rep didn’t tell me.” He sounded apologetic. He looked apologetic. But was it real? He was an actor for hire. He had already deceived me so damned much.

  “That’s not good enough, damn it. I want to know who sent you!” My voice broke, and my eyes blurred.

  Calvin stared at me like I had his balls in a vise and had slowly started tightening them. “I don’t have that information, Ruth. I’m really, really sorry, but I just don’t.”

  “Then what the hell can you tell me?” I demanded. “Or are you useless as well as a lying asshole who tricked me in the worst way possible?”

  He closed his eyes in what looked a lot like pain. “That was never my intent.”

  “Well your good intentions didn’t save me from that, now did they?” I wiped my cheek impatiently. Behind Calvin, Gregory looked ready to explode at this guy for making me cry.

  “No, but look, what happened between us…that wasn’t fake, all right? If it was fake, I could have gone ahead with all the shit they wanted me to do. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t, okay? And it wasn’t just my conscience, because anything I could have gotten off of you probably wouldn’t have been that damaging anyway.”

  He shook his head, lips pressed together, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “But I couldn’t go through with any of it anyway. Because I fell for you.”

  I scoffed, my eyes blurring more. “You expect me to buy that now that I’ve found all this out?”

  “No, probably not now, that’s too much to expect. But I’m hoping that once you’re calmer—”

  “Just tell me what this anonymous bastard wanted you to do,” I interrupted in the coldest voice that I could muster.

  Somehow, his assertion that he was in love with me made me want to hit him even harder. How could he put his hooks into my heart and then tug on the strings right now? How could he be that callous and manipulative? Or, if he wasn’t aware—that much of a klutz?

  He exhaled slowly, looking everywhere but my face. “They wanted me to work a bunch of tailored questions into our conversations about your work. Things like finding out how you handle problem employees, and how much market share your board has.”

  So they were looking into orchestrating a hostile takeover. Probably means they’re one of our top rivals. Even if they planned to devalue the stock somehow first, buying a majority of shares would still cost an awful lot of money. Not to mention all the legwork.

  “Go on.”

  “They wanted to know about your background check process for new hires. How you deal with clients. The secrets to your success, basically. And…” He ran his hand through his hair. “There was this thing they wanted me to stick into a USB port on your laptop while you were distracted. I think they called it a Rubber Ducky. I was going to tell them that the opportunity just didn’t come up before you took off.”

  “A Rubber Ducky is an insertable hacking device,” Gregory cut in. “They could have used it to download your entire hard drive if he had used it.”

  “Jesus,” Calvin muttered, then looked up at me. “They were hoping I could clone your phone with some doodads they gave me too, but I never even tried that either.”

  “I’m going to need those devices,” I said firmly. I didn’t know if we would just have them entered into evidence once we knew who to accuse, or maybe try to send them along somehow with bad information. Right now I was too upset to decide.

  “If I hand them all over to you, they’ll know that I refused to do the whole job,” he quibbled.

  I glared at him. “You think I care right now whether you can cover your ass with this bastard or not?”

  “But—I could—look, if you just give me a chance, maybe I could find out who this guy is!” Now he sounded genuinely desperate.

  My heart clenched at the pain in his voice—but he was an actor. And he had tricked me before.

  I should know better than to give him another chance. But I still wanted to.

  I backed away from him, back through the door. “No. I’ve had enough of this. I’ve had enough of you. Just get away from me. If I feel like giving your ass the chance to redeem yourself, I have your phone number.”

  “Wait—” he started and tried to go through the door behind me, reaching after me.

  Then he stopped dead, held back by the grip of iron around his forearm.

  “That’s enough,” Gregory rasped forbiddingly. “The lady wants her space, and you’re going to give it to her.”

  Calvin was big and muscular, but he wasn’t a giant, and he wasn’t as thoroughly pissed as Gregory. He tugged once and got nowhere.

  “Hey—”

  “It’s not negotiable,” I snapped, and slammed the door in his face.

  Then, finally, as Gregory escorted him back off the property, I let myself break down.

  Chapter 15

  Ruth

  The ride back home hurt. Everything hurt. It was almost a physical pain, exhausting me, making it hard to think straight. I knew it was stupid to let myself fall apart like this; I wasn’t a teenager. I couldn’t afford it. But the pain was there, weighing me down.

  I left Gregory to continue his investigation while I holed up at my new home, pretending to still be working from the ranch out in the countryside. Here, at least, the Wi-Fi was stable, the air-conditioning spared me any more heat, and I didn’t have to worry about anyone getting in past my guard.

  But the luxury penthouse that had been found and secured for me was still lonely as hell, and I couldn’t shake the feeling no matter what I did.

  I spent the first day at home puttering around unpacking and watching old movies, unable to focus on even the simplest bit of the approval work ahead of me. Now and again I would just start sobbing out of nowhere and have to stop and look after myself until I could function at all again. I took two long naps and then slept for ten hours.

  I had suffered through broken hearts before, mostly in high school when every little slight from even the most ridiculous boy could leave me weeping into my pillow. But this was deeper. More personal.

  I had felt so good with the man I knew as Dallas that the disappointment afterward was just that much more bitter. I simply had further to fall.

  One day I’ll look back on this and be able to shrug it off as a mistake that could have ended up a lot worse. I hope that wasn’t actual
ly the best sex of my life ever, because I hate the idea that I enjoyed myself so much with a goddamned liar.

  That evening, an hour after the office closed down for the night, Gregory called to check in.

  “No signs of any listening devices,” he said. “No tampering with your computer or your accounts.”

  “So what does that mean as far as our investigation?” I rubbed my face.

  “I’m looking into potential communications between anyone in our office and our top three competitors. It has to be an inside man. Someone with a lot of access.”

  I couldn’t think about the possibility of another betrayer in my life—possibly even Bella. “Okay. So that’s Railway Creative, Edgeworth Marketing, and Star of Texas.”

  “Correct.” He cleared his throat. “You still don’t want anyone to know that you’re back?”

  “Right. Because if they were watching me to see when I left, with or without Calvin’s help, they’ll know I left for home. And so will whoever is our inside man.” Or woman, a cold, merciless voice said in the back of my head.

  “Smart. I’ll keep an ear out. That may be the way we catch this person if the communications check doesn’t pan out.” He paused a moment. “How are you doing?”

  “Oh me? I feel safe here. I’ll be fine. Eventually. No way am I going to let these bastards keep me down for long. But in the meantime, I need space. I’m sorting some things out.”

  “I understand.” He didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he let it go. “If you need anything, call me. Otherwise I’ll check in as soon as I have more news.”

  “Thanks, Gregory. I’ll talk to you later.”

  I hung up and went back to trying to distract myself from thoughts of Calvin. Thoughts of the guy who might have tried to resist his bosses, and who might be able to help me find them. The guy who might even be in love with me…but the one who couldn’t be trusted at all after what he had done.

  But my mind, my heart, and my body weren’t in agreement with one another on this one. I knew that for certain as soon as I woke the next morning—from dreams of Calvin, ones so tender and erotic that I woke up weepy and shaking with desire.

  His lips on my skin. His shivering breath in my ear. His body over mine. The dream haunted my waking thoughts for hours, and then memories of him took over for the rest of the day. I thought of him when I watered my plants, when I went over the stack of ads to be approved, when I showered, when I watched the news.

  He haunted me. I couldn’t get rid of him. And part of me just didn’t want to.

  By the end of the second day, I had fully unpacked and was starting to go stir-crazy. I had gotten used to walking miles in the fresh air every day. Now I was back to my home gym, walking the treadmill, lifting weights, rowing, biking in place as I stared at nature shows. Two sweaty hours of that and I still felt restless—and somehow, working out only made me think of Calvin more.

  I realized something important, at least, from all that brooding. Calvin had tried to explain to me about how desperate he had been. How he hadn’t eaten a proper meal in three days. How his agent was a sleazy bastard always aiming to take advantage of him.

  Had I ever in my life gone hungry for more than the time it took to take a fasting blood test at the doctor’s office? No, no I hadn’t. I had grown up wealthy and become more so on my own merits. I had never gone hungry, never wondered where my next meal was coming from, and never had to take a humiliating job against my principles just to keep a roof over my head.

  I have no idea what he went through. Or what he’s facing now, by betraying his bosses. If they catch him—

  No. No, I couldn’t let myself worry about him. Not after what he had done. I had to keep my head on straight about this, and not let my stupid, stubborn, impossible-to-get-rid-of desire for him call the shots.

  But…I missed him.

  I missed our conversations. I missed his smile. I missed his way of listening to me intently when I talked about anything. Not just work—anything. Me. My dreams. My past…everything.

  I missed the way the light caught his coal-black hair and those pale, pretty eyes. I missed the way the skin on the curve of his shoulder gleamed in the dim light of his bedroom. The sound of his sleeping breath.

  In the middle of the second night, I got up from bed in my cool bedroom and stood up to watch the rain paint the other side of the floor-to-ceiling window that made up the room’s south wall. I couldn’t smell the rain, couldn’t feel the moisture in the air. Couldn’t feel the relief of summer heat being washed away drop by drop.

  I was comfortable in my climate-controlled haven high above most of the city, but I was also isolated. Away from the natural world…and the one man I couldn’t stop thinking about.

  This will get better, I told myself. It had only been a few days. I was dealing with not only the mess with “Dallas,” but the attempt to spy on my company, sabotage me…and the fact that someone in my office, possibly even my so-called best friend, was betraying me.

  I wished I could hit fast-forward on my emotions and just somehow get over all of this, instead of having to sit in the middle of it and stew. But there was just no helping it—I would have to wait it all out until I recovered, something changed, or both.

  I fell back into a fitful sleep—but even that didn’t give me any relief. Instead, I dreamed of my liar of a lover, back before I knew he was lying, sleeping peacefully beside me in the predawn dark.

  When I woke, I reached across the cool bedsheet for him, disoriented, then lay there, not knowing what to feel when I found the space empty. Then I remembered. Teeth grinding, I pushed myself out of bed, done with sleep for a while even though the sun wasn’t even up yet.

  Disgusted with myself, I forced my way through the pile of ad approvals, sending three back for revision and the rest on to production. My head was throbbing and it was almost three in the afternoon before I had worked through the rest of the pile. Then I tried eating and ended up having to force myself again—a sandwich, a glass of juice, barely tasting either.

  I was completely worn down, and contemplating another nap, when I got an unexpected phone call. It was Bella.

  “Hi, honey!” she chirped. “I haven’t heard from you in days. Is everything okay?”

  I blinked. Oh. Right. We had chatted on the phone every few days for a long time, usually just talking about nothing since neither one of us had much of a romantic life to dish on. But ever since I had started falling for “Dallas,” I had raved to her.

  Until, of course, I had started to suspect her of being our spy.

  Shit. Okay. What do I say?

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I caught something nasty a couple of days ago, and I haven’t been feeling well since. I barely got the approvals out half an hour ago.”

  “Oh no, honey, what is it? Have you been to the doctor?” Her voice rose with worry.

  “Yes, it’s some stupid virus he can’t do a damn thing for. I’ll be fine. I just have to fight it out. So much for enjoying the rest of my vacation, though.” I forced myself to sound rueful.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. You were having such a good time, too.” She sounded like she always did: calm, kind, and full of empathy. “So, is Dallas looking after you like a good boyfriend?”

  “Are you kidding?” I let out a high laugh that sounded too hysterical and broke into fake coughing to cover it. “I’m too contagious. I’m isolated. I’m even having my meals left outside my door right now.”

  “Ooooh!” She almost sounded relieved, like I had just supplied a missing piece of a puzzle to her. “Okay. That makes sense. I hope he’s plenty nice to you once you’re feeling better.”

  “I’m sure he will be. We’ll definitely be keeping in touch after my vacation’s over and I’ve recovered,” I lied. I felt guilty about it—Bella could be completely innocent—but right now, the only person I wanted to fully confide in was Gregory.

  “That’s great news. Have you planned another date?”

 
; My stomach tightened. Normally her gentle prying didn’t bother me. But right now, suspecting what I did, it felt like an invasion.

  “Not until I’m feeling better.” I sighed for dramatic effect. “And can keep a meal down.”

  “Oh, honey. Okay, I get it. Do you know when you’re going to be back in town?”

  I hesitated. If she was the spy, and I told her I was already back in town, she would probably come pry at me under the pretense of caring for a sick friend. If I claimed to still be at the ranch, and she was the spy, she would know I was lying—and that I suspected her. Tricky.

  Okay. I can be tricky too.

  “You mean when will I be back at the office? When I’m cleared by my doctor, hon. It’s a pretty nasty bug. I’ll be working remotely until then, and there may be some slowdown. I’ll keep you up to date in case clients call.”

  “Oh. Okay. I’ll let people around the office know—” she started.

  “Hey, look, don’t, okay? After what happened, people are already worried, and I don’t want people distracted with even more concern. Just tell them I’m still on my working vacation.” My free hand was clenched hard into a fist as I struggled to keep my voice calm and friendly.

  Inside, though, I wanted so badly to put her on the spot. Can I trust you? Are you the person I think you are? Or have you deceived me?

  Have I helped you deceive me by being too trusting? Am I just some gullible idiot despite all my work and success?

  Tell me!

  “You’ve gone quiet on me, Ruth. You need to go take a nap? Should I let you go?” Her voice dripped with sympathy, making my cheeks burn.

  “Yes, I think so,” I said, sounding resigned. But when she signed off and I heard the click of the connection breaking, all I felt was relief.

  I was still praying that it wasn’t her. But I had reasons to suspect her. She knew me better than anyone else in the office, even Gregory. My dreams, my problems with men, my hobbies, my habits. All my little vulnerable points.