In Bed with the Wrangler (6 page)

He shrugged. “They’re kids.”

Stephanie held out her hand, and Royce smacked the glove into her palm. “You want to play?” she asked Amber.

Amber shook her head. “I need to get back to work.” Then, as Stephanie trotted toward the outfield, she confided in Royce. “I’ve never been much of an athlete.”

His gaze traveled her body. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Pilates and a StairMaster.”

“I bet you’d be a natural at sports.”

“We’re not about to find out.” She’d never swung a bat in her life. There were eight-year-olds out there who would probably show her up.

“I’d lob you a soft one,” Royce offered, beneath the cheers and calls from the teams.

“Think I’ll stick to bookkeeping.”

He sobered. “You worked all morning?”

She nodded.

“Anything interesting?”

She shook her head. Actually, she’d found a couple of strange-looking payments in the computerized accounting system. But they were probably nothing, so she didn’t want to bother Royce with that. And she sure wasn’t about to tell him about her conversation with Hargrove.

“You surprise me,” he said in an intimate tone.

“How so?”

“I had you pegged for a party girl.”

“No kidding,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes at his understatement.

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

She looked him straight on. “Yeah, you did.”

He raked a hand through his sweat-damp hair, giving a sheepish smile. “Okay, I did for a while. But I got over it.”

She paused, debating for a few silent seconds, but then deciding she was going to quit censoring herself. “So,” she dared, with a toss of her hair. “What do you think of me now?”

His eyes danced, reflecting the color of the endless summer sky. “It could go one of two ways.”

“Which are?”

“Royce!” someone called. “You’re on deck.”

He twisted his head to shout over his shoulder. “Be right there.” Then he turned back, slowly contemplating her.

“Well?” she prompted, ridiculously apprehensive.

His hand came up to cup her chin, his thumb and forefinger warm against her skin. “You’re either shockingly ingenuous or frighteningly cunning.” But his tone took the sting out of the labels.

“Neither of those are complimentary,” she pointed out, absorbing the sparks from his touch.

His tone went low. “But both are very sexy.”

Then his hand dropped away, and he turned to the game, trotting toward the batter’s box as a player took a base hit.

Amber skipped down the staircase, recalling Royce smacking a three-base hit, bringing ten-year-old Colby
Jones home to win the game by one run. She and Stephanie had decided to dress up for dinner, and she wore a white, spaghetti-strap cocktail dress and high-heeled sandals. She rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs and caught sight of him in a pressed business suit. He was even sexier now than he’d been this afternoon in his T-shirt and jeans.

And he didn’t look out of place in the rustic setting. She was glad she’d gone with the dress.

His gaze caught hers, dark and brooding, and she faltered on her high heels. This afternoon, he’d been almost playful. Had she done something to annoy him?

And then she caught sight of the second man, nearly as tall as Royce, somewhat thinner, his suit slightly wrinkled at the elbows and knees. The man turned at the sound of her footsteps, and she knew it had to be Barry Brewster. His jaw was tight, and beads of sweat had formed on his brow.

“Ms. Hutton,” Royce intoned. “This is Barry Brewster. You spoke to him on the phone last night.”

Amber fought an urge to laugh. The whole charade suddenly struck her as ridiculous. “Mr. Brewster,” she said instead, keeping her face straight as she came to a stop and held out her hand.

“Barry, please.”

“You can call me Amber.”

“No, he can’t.”

“Royce, please.”

But Royce didn’t waver, shoulders square, expression stern.

“Ms. Hutton,” Barry began, obviously not about to run afoul of his boss. “Please accept my apology. I was
rude and insulting last night. I am, of course, available for anything you might need.”

The irritation in his eyes belied the geniality of his tone. But then she hadn’t expected him to be sincere about this.

“Thank you,” she said simply. “I do have a couple of questions.” She looked to Royce. “Should we sit down?”

“Unnecessary. Barry won’t be staying.”

“This is ridicul—”

Royce’s hard expression shut her up, and she silently warned herself not to get on his bad side.

“I was hoping you could tell me the balance in the ranch bank account,” she said to Barry. “There are a number of unpaid bills, so I wondered—”

“You don’t need a reason to ask for the bank balance,” Royce cut in.

“I’d need to look it up,” said Barry, shifting from one black loafer to the other. He flexed his neck to one side and straightened the sleeves of his suit.

“So, look it up,” said Royce.

“I don’t have access to the server.”

“Call someone who does.”

Barry hesitated. “It’s pretty late.”

“Your point?”

“I guess I could try to catch Sally.” With a final pause, Barry reached into his pocket for his phone.

While he dialed, Amber moved closer to Royce, turning her back on Barry.

“Is this completely necessary?” she hissed.

“I thought you wanted the bank balance.”

“I do.”

“Then it’s completely necessary.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Let me handle this.”

She took in the determined slant to Royce’s chin while Barry’s voice droned on in the background.

“Do I have a choice?” she asked.

“No.”

“You can be a real hard-ass, you know that?”

“He insulted you.”

“I’m a big girl. I’m over it.”

“That’s not the point.”

She fought against a sudden grin at his need to get in the last word. “Do you ever give up?”

“No.”

Barry cleared his throat, and Amber smoothly turned back to face him.

“Sally is looking into the overdraft and the line of credit to see where—”

“The balance,” said Royce.

Barry’s neck took on a ruddy hue, and he tugged at the white collar of his shirt. “It’s, uh, complicated.”

“I’m an intelligent man, and Amber has an honors degree.”

Barry’s gaze flicked to Amber, and she could have sworn she saw panic in its depths.

“I’d really rather discuss—”

“The balance,” said Royce.

Barry drew a terse breath. “At the moment, the account is overdrawn.”

There were ten full seconds of frozen silence.

Stephanie entered the room from the kitchen, stopping short as she took in the trio.

“Say again?” Royce widened his stance.

“There’s been…That is…” This time when Barry
glanced at Amber, he seemed to be pleading for help. There was no help she could give him. She didn’t have a clue what was going on.

Royce’s voice went dangerously low. “Why didn’t you transfer something from corporate?”

Barry tugged at his collar again. “The China deal.”

“What about the China deal?” Royce asked carefully. “Was the transfer held up?”

Barry swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, voice turning to a raspy squeak. “The paperwork. From Cheng Li. It didn’t make the deadline.”

Stephanie’s eyes went wide, while Royce cocked his head, brows creasing. “They assured me the fax would go through.”

“It did. But…well…”

Royce crossed his arms over his chest.

“Our acknowledgment,” said Barry. “The time zone difference.”

“You didn’t send the acknowledgment?”

“End of day. Chicago time.”

“You missed the deadline?” Royce’s voice was harsh with disbelief.

“I’ve been trying to fix it for thirty-six hours.”

Royce took a step forward. “You
missed
a fifty-million-dollar deadline?”

Barry’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“And you didn’t call me?” Royce’s voice was incredulous now.

“I was trying to fix—”

“Yesterday,” Royce all but shouted, index finger jabbing in Barry’s direction. “
Yesterday
, I could have called Jared at his hotel. Today, he’s on a sailboat somewhere in the South Pacific. You have…” Royce
raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know how much money you’ve lost.”

“I—”

“What in the
hell
happened?”

“It was the time zones. Technology. The language barrier.”

“You are
so
fired.”

Amber’s gaze caught Stephanie’s. She felt desperate for an exit. She didn’t want to witness Royce’s anger, Barry’s humiliation. She wanted to be far, far away from this disturbing situation.

“You’re done, Barry,” Royce confirmed to the silent man.

Barry hesitated a beat longer. Then his shoulders dropped. The fight went out of him, and he turned for the door.

The room seemed to boom with silence as Barry’s footsteps receded and the car pulled away outside.

Stephanie took a few hesitant steps toward her brother. “Royce?”

“Cancel his credit cards,” Royce commanded. “Wake up someone from IT and change the computer passwords. And have security reset the codes on the building.”

“What are we going to do?” Stephanie asked in a whisper.

Royce’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He looked to Amber. “I have to call Beijing. If we don’t fix this, the domino effect could be catastrophic.”

Amber nodded. “Just tell me what you need.”

“Can we talk to Jared?” asked Stephanie.

Royce shook his head. “Not a chance. Not for a week at least.”

A
mber hung up the phone after their fifth call to China, her expression somber as Royce’s mood.

“That’s it.” He voiced his defeat out loud.

“Are you sure?”

“Can you think of anything else?”

She shook her head.

He slipped the phone from her hands, setting it on the end table next to the sofa in the living room. The deadline was the deadline, and they hadn’t been able to penetrate the Chinese bureaucracy to make their case to Cheng Li. The deal was canceled.

It was nearly 3:00 a.m. Only a few lights burned in the house, and Stephanie had headed to her own ranch an hour ago. Amber tipped her head back on the gold sofa cushion, closing her eyes. She’d struggled through
translations for hours on end, and the strain was showing in her pale complexion.

Royce gave in to the temptation to smooth a lock of hair from her cheek. “You okay?”

“Just sorry I couldn’t help.”

He dropped his hand back down. “You did help.”

She opened her eyes. “How so?”

“I understand now what is and isn’t possible.”

“Nothing’s possible.”

“Apparently not.”

She blinked her dark lashes, and her hand covered his. “How bad is it?”

He rested his own head against the sofa back. “It’ll play havoc with our cash flow. We may have to sell off some of our companies. But, to start off, I’m going to have to call the division heads to keep them from panicking. Firing Barry was a significant move.”

“Will they be angry?”

He shrugged. “That’s the least of my worries.”

Amber didn’t answer, and Royce was content to sit in silence. He turned his hand, palm up, wrapping it around her smaller one. For some reason, it gave him comfort. Simply sitting here quietly, with her by his side, made the problems seem less daunting.

Her hand went limp in his, and he turned to gaze at her closed eyes and even breathing. She was astonishingly beautiful—smooth skin, delicate nose, high cheekbones and lustrous, golden hair that made a man want to bury his face against it.

He felt a shot of pity for the hapless Hargrove. Imagine having Amber in your grasp then having her disappear? Not that the man wasn’t better off. Royce glanced at the portrait of his parents on their wedding day. He usually
put it away while he was at the ranch, unable to bear the look of unbridled adoration on his father’s face.

And that’s the way it would have been with Amber, too. Her husband would have gone completely stupid and helpless with longing, only to have her change her mind and move on. Poor, pathetic Hargrove. He wouldn’t have known what hit him.

Royce extricated his hand from hers, shifting to the edge of the couch, positioning himself to lift her into his arms.

“Amber?” he whispered softly, sliding one arm around her back and the other beneath her knees.

She mumbled something unintelligible, but her head tipped to rest against his shoulder. He lifted her up, and she stayed sleeping, even as he adjusted her slight body in his arms.

She weighed less than nothing. She was also soft and her scent appealing. There was something completely right about the scent of a beautiful woman, particularly this beautiful woman, fresh, like wildflowers, he supposed, but sweeter, more compelling.

He moved his nose toward her hair, guessing it was her shampoo. Hard to tell, really. He mounted the staircase, taking his time, reluctant to arrive at her room where he’d have to put her down.

His imagination wandered to that moment. Should he help her undress? Slip her between the sheets in her underwear? Would a gentleman wake her up or leave her in her clothes? Never having been a gentleman, Royce wasn’t sure.

This had to be the first time he’d put a woman to bed without immediate plans to join her. He couldn’t help a self-deprecating smile. It figured. He also couldn’t
remember a moment in his life when he’d been more eager to join a woman in bed.

He pushed open her door, carefully easing her through the opening. Then he crossed to the queen-size, brass bed and leaned down, laying her gently on top of the comforter.

She moaned her contentment, and his longing ratcheted up a notch. Their faces were only inches apart, his arm around her back, the other cradling her bare legs. He knew he had to leave her, but try as he might, he couldn’t get his body to cooperate.

“Amber,” he whispered again, knowing that if she woke he’d have no choice but to walk away.

“Mmm,” she moaned. Then she sighed and wriggled in his arms.

His muscles tensed to iron. His gaze took in her pouty lips and, before he knew it, his head was dipping toward hers. Then he was kissing her sweet lips.

Just to say good-night, he promised himself. Just a chaste—

But then she was kissing back.

Her arms twined around his neck, and her head tipped sideways, lips parting, accommodating his ravenous kiss. Her back arched, and her fingertips curled into his short hair, even as her delicate tongue flicked into his mouth.

He leaned into her soft breasts, stroking the length of her bare legs, teasing the delicate skin behind her knees, tracing the outline of her shapely calves and daring the heat of her smooth thighs.

He wanted her, more than he’d ever wanted a woman in his life. Passion was quickly clouding reason, and his hormones warred with intelligence. Another
minute, another second, and his logic would switch completely off.

He dragged his mouth from hers. “Amber?” he forced himself to ask. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Her eyes popped open, and she took a sudden jerk back against the pillow. She blinked in confusion at Royce’s face, and in a split and horrible second, he realized what had happened.

The woman had been dreaming.

And Royce wasn’t the man she’d been dreaming about.

In the morning, Amber was grateful to find Stephanie in the kitchen at breakfast. She needed a buffer between her and Royce while she got over her embarrassment.

She’d hesitated a moment too long last night. When she’d realized it wasn’t a dream, she should have kept right on kissing him. She should have pressed her body tightly against his and sent the signal that she was completely attracted to him, nearly breathless with passion for him, and that making love was exactly what she wanted.

Instead, all he’d seen was her shock and hesitation. He’d been offended and abruptly left the room. She didn’t blame him. And she wasn’t brave enough to try to explain.

“Morning, Amber.” Stephanie was her usual bright self as she bit into a strip of bacon, legs swinging from the high chair at the breakfast bar.

“Morning,” Amber replied, daring a fleeting glance at Royce.

He gave her a cool nod then turned his attention
back to Stephanie. “Two days at the most,” he told Stephanie.

“I’ll definitely get you something,” she responded and blew out a sigh. “This is the worst possible time.”

“I can’t imagine there being a best possible time.” Royce stood from the breakfast bar and carried his plate and coffee mug over to the sink. He downed the last of the coffee before setting everything on the counter.

Amber helped herself to a clean plate from the cupboard and took a slice of toast from the platter.

“Royce has to call a division heads meeting,” Stephanie told her. “We need to ask for financial reports from everybody. But he’s worried about panic.”

“Who would panic?” Amber addressed her question first to Royce, but when he didn’t meet her eyes, she turned back to Stephanie.

“I need a pretext for the meeting,” said Royce. “Barry Brewster’s firing is bad enough. Add to that a sudden meeting and financial reports, and the gossip will swirl.

“We have over two thousand employees,” he continued. “Some very big contracts, and some very twitchy clients.” His gaze finally went to Amber, but his face remained impassive, his tone flat. “If you don’t mind, we’ll start a rumor you were the cause.”

“You mean the cause of Barry Brewster being fired, not the money problems?”

Royce didn’t react to her joke. “Yes.”

“Are you leaving today?” asked Stephanie.

At first Amber thought Stephanie meant her, and the idea made her clench her stomach in regret. But then she realized Stephanie was talking to her brother.

Royce nodded.

“Where—” Amber clamped her jaw to slow herself down. It was jarring to think of him leaving with this tension between them. “Where are you going?” she finished, feigning only a mild interest.

“Chicago.”

“You don’t think that will bring on the gossip?”

She assured herself her caution was sincere. It wasn’t merely an attempt to keep Royce here at the ranch.

His eyes narrowed.

“If you come rolling into the office, people are sure to think something’s up.”

“She’s right,” Stephanie put in.

“I don’t see an alternative. I have to talk to the division VPs.”

“Bring them here,” suggested Amber.

Both Royce and Stephanie stared at her.

“There’s your pretext. Come up with a reason to bring them here. Something fun, something frivolous, then take them aside and have whatever discreet conversation you need to have.” She paused, but neither of them jumped in.

“A barbecue.” She offered the first thing that popped into her mind.

Royce’s voice turned incredulous, but at least there was an emotion in it. “You want me to fly the Ryder senior managers to Montana for a barbecue?”

“They’d never suspect,” she told him.

“A barn dance,” Stephanie cried, coming erect on the seat. “We’ll throw a dance to christen the new barn.”

“You’re both insane,” Royce grumbled.

“Like a fox,” said Stephanie. “Invite the spouses. Hire a band. Nobody throws a dance and barbecue when the company’s in financial trouble.”

Amber waited. So did Stephanie.

Royce’s brows went up, and his mouth thinned out. “I find I can’t disagree with that statement.”

Finished with her own breakfast, Stephanie hopped up and transferred her dishes to the sink. She gave Royce a quick peck on the cheek. “See you guys in a while. I have to get the students started.”

As she left the room, Amber screwed up her courage. She definitely needed to clear the air. “Royce—”

“If you have time today,” he interrupted, “could you give me as much information as possible on the cattle ranch finances?” His voice was detached, professional, and his gaze seemed to focus on her hairline.

Amber hated the cold wall between them. “I…”

“Stephanie’s going to pull something together for the horse operation, and I’ll be busy—”

“Of course,” Amber quickly put in, swallowing, telling herself she had no right to feel hurt. “Whatever you need.”

He gave a sharp nod. “Thanks. Appreciate you helping out.” Then he turned and strode out of the kitchen, boot heels echoing on the tile floor.

Amber was curled up on the webbed cushions of an outdoor love seat on the ranch house deck, clouds slipping over the distant mountains, making mottled shade on the nearby aspen groves. She flipped her way through a hundred-page printout from the ranch’s financial system, highlighting entries along the way.

Gopher, one of Molly’s young pups, had curled up against her bare feet. At first, she’d been wary of his wet nose and slurpy tongue. But then he’d fallen asleep, and
she found his rhythmic breathing and steady heartbeat rather comforting.

She hadn’t seen Royce since breakfast, and Stephanie was obviously busy getting her own financial records together. Amber’s thoughts had vacillated from heading straight for home, to confronting Royce about last night, to seducing Royce, to helping him sort out his business problems and earning his gratitude.

She sighed and let her vision blur against the page. For the hundredth time, she contemplated her mistake. Why had she panicked last night? Why hadn’t she kissed him harder, hugged him tighter and waited to see where it would all lead?

She was wildly attracted to him. She was truly free from Hargrove now, and there was no reason in the world she couldn’t follow her desires. So what if she’d only known him a few days? They were both adults, and this was hardly the 1950s.

Gopher shifted his warm little body, reminding her of where she was and that, 1950s or not, she’d blown her chance with Royce. The choices left were to leave him, seduce him or impress him. Since she was completely intimidated by the thought of seducing a man she’d already rebuffed, she decided to go with impressing him.

She forced herself to focus on the column of numbers in her lap.

There it was again.

She stroked the highlighter across the page.

Yet another payment to Sagittarius Eclipse Incorporated. It was for one hundred thousand dollars, just like the last one, and the one before that.

She skipped back on the pages, counting the payments
and pinpointing the dates of the transactions. They fell on the first day of every month. Where other payments in the financial report were for obvious things like feed, lumber, tools or veterinary services, the Sagittarius Eclipse payments were notated only as “services.”

Amber’s curiosity was piqued. She flipped to the back page. Scanning through the total columns, she discovered one-point-two million dollars had been paid out to Sagittarius Eclipse in the current year, the same amount the year before.

She pulled her feet from the love seat cushion. Gopher whimpered and quickly scooted up next to her thigh, flopping against her.

She smiled at the little puff ball, set the financial report aside and scooped him into her arms. He wiggled for a moment, but then settled in next to her like a fuzzy baby.

“I suppose if I hold on to you, you can’t do any harm,” she whispered to him, checking Molly and the other pups as she rose to her feet. They were curled together at the far end of the deck. Nobody seemed to notice as she carried Gopher through the doorway.

There was a computer close by in the living room, and she sat down in front of it, moving the mouse to bring the screen back to life. She hadn’t graduated in Public Administration without knowing how to search a company. Using her free hand, she called up a favorite corporate registry search program.