Surrender to Temptation (2 page)

Amelia laughed. “Nah, I wouldn’t wish my parents on anyone. Why do you think I moved to L.A.? Would have loved to go all the way to Hawaii, but they happen to own a home there, too.” She nudged Nikki. “Go. Be good. Have fun. Relax. Call me when you arrive.”

“Will do.” Nikki waved before rolling her suitcase into the building, her stomach starting to churn again. Less than an hour later, she was in the air heading for Butte, Montana and Chase Fitzgerald.

***

Chase Fitzgerald leaned back on his seat, pressed blunt-tipped fingers on his temple, and gently rubbed the throbbing pulse. He switched the telephone to his right ear and shifted his body. Anyone who knew him would know that he was restless. He hated being indoors.

Being indoors used to mean feeding his two passions: cooking and women. Women had always fascinated him since he’d discovered their skin was softer than his and they smelled nice. He must have been around three. A taste for fine foods was something he’d acquired later. He hadn’t gotten laid in months and cooking was out of the question.

A horse neighed from a corral, and the call was answered by another horse a few yards away. A meadowlark made flutelike, gurgling notes as it took off from its nest on the ground.

Those nature calls beckoned to him, but he knew he couldn’t hurry his caller, not Doctor Paul Radcliff. The surgeon had restored his sight by performing a daring eye operation, and for that, Chase would be forever grateful. He would control his impatience until the good doctor finished his explanation.

“Keeping my appointment is not the issue, Paul. What would the local doctors tell me that can’t wait until you get here?” Chase asked in exasperation.

“Chase, we need to make sure everything is okay—that your eyes are healing well and that you are not pushing them too fast too soon. Besides, you need a new prescription for those headaches, my friend,” Paul answered from the other side of the country, patience in his voice.

In addition to being a genius with lasers, Paul must have telepathic abilities
, Chase thought with a grimace. The headaches hadn’t been this bad until he started punching numbers into his computer. Staring at the computer screen put too much strain on his eyes.

“You know I hate popping pain killers. No more medication, Doc. I can handle this. The sunglasses you recommended are permanently perched on my nose—which, as you can imagine, makes me look ridiculous indoors. How about this? If I go back to seeing blurry images, then I’ll call you.” Chase chuckled before adding, “And you know what that would mean?”

“No, I don’t believe I do,” Paul answered.

“Your eighty percent success rate will be reduced a notch.” His comment elicited a chuckle from the surgeon. “You’re the best in the field, Paul. I don’t want anyone else messing with my eyes, so if you can’t fly out, I’ll come to you.”

“You’re a very stubborn man.”

“And you are a brilliant doctor. Do I make the arrangements?”

“No. Call me if there are changes or if the pain becomes unbearable. There’s no shame in asking for help. However, I’ll be in L.A. in two weeks. No. Let’s see. Today is Thursday. Two weeks from next Monday. Think you can fly out?”

“Oh yes. I’ll see you then.”

Chase smiled as he hung up the phone. He stretched his lean torso, his gaze moving around the room, past the desktop computer to piles of files haphazardly placed on one of his desks. They contained all his records—management, insurance, financial, income, expense records, and files on his mares. The files on his mares were more important than all the others put together, and he was going to lose some of the records if he didn’t have them digitalized. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to turn on the damn computer because of his eyes.

He stood up, his head pounding in earnest now. He needed to go for a ride to ease the tension. Physical exertion usually made the demons that tormented him rest and brought him a brief peace.

He left the den.

A sound got his attention when he started across the foyer. His eyes traveled past the staircase to the second floor where Mrs. B stood, a startled expression on her face. She was carrying a laundry basket, and from the looks of things, she was about to enter the guest room on the left side of the stairway. What was she up to? They weren’t expecting visitors. He’d disinvited his family after they kept stopping by unannounced.

All he craved now was peace.

Quiet.

A chance to nurse his wounds and heal.

No reminder of his past life.

Sally Briscoe, otherwise known as Mrs. B, was the only one he could stand. But then again, she had been with his family as a cook and housekeeper as far back as Chase could remember. Until his accident, she’d worked for his mother and oldest brother in the family mansion in Palos Valdes, California. But when he’d decided to move to Montana, Mrs. B had offered to come with him, and his mother hadn’t argued.

“What’s going on, Mrs. B?” Chase asked calmly, his hand coming to rest on the stair rail.

She glanced downstairs and smiled uneasily, “Just cleaning.”

She was lying and feeling guilty, too, if the expression on her face was an indicator.
“Since when do you clean at four o’clock in the afternoon?”

She chuckled. “Since always. Did you want something, dear?”

“Where is Winston? We were supposed to fix the southern fence this afternoon.” Winston was his foreman and was rather sweet on Mrs. B.

“He went to Butte to pick up more supplies. He should be back any time now.”

He frowned. Why would Winston take off without consulting him? With the amount of work that had to be done around the ranch, he needed everyone to do his or her share. Besides, Dillon was the nearest town and it had everything they needed.

“Since when do we get our supplies from Butte?”

“Since you decided that your horses needed better feed. The best for your mares, you said, and the best they are gettin’. Do you want anything else, dear? I could get you a glass of cold lemonade.” He could tell she was impatient to leave.

“Winston should have consulted me before taking off,” Chase said, not that his disagreeable tone made any difference. Mrs. B had known him since he was a child, and nothing he did ever bothered her. “Tell him, when he returns, that I want the fences fixed. Today. Thunder also needs to be exercised. Tell Mac to saddle her for me.” Mac Murdock was one of the young ranch hands.

“Mac went with Tucker to check on Mystery and Buttercup at Circle R Ranch. I don’t think Thunder will wait until they come back.” She chuckled. “That mare of yours gets quite antsy when not exercised.”

He was breeding Mystery and Buttercup with a stallion from his cousin’s ranch. The other six were in various stages of pregnancy. If Winston were around, they would have gone to collect the mares. Tucker, his new trainer, didn’t know the mares as well as Winston did. Then there were bales of hay to be picked from the fields. Winston must have forgotten about that, too.

Damn it! Could this day get any worse?

Chase focused his attention on Mrs. B. It wasn’t her fault Winston was gone. But she was acting too weird for him not to wonder what was going on. Who were they trying to sneak in his house now?

“Okay, Mrs. B, I’ll saddle Thunder. Just remind Winston to start on the fences as soon as he gets home. I’ll join him when I get back.”

As Mrs. B disappeared into the room, Chase thought of possible reasons she was preparing the guest room. His sister Jade and her family weren’t due to visit until late summer, and his twin, Baron, tended to drop in unannounced. Chase had vowed to kick him out, but that wouldn’t stop him. But since Baron’s wife just had a baby, his brother had found a new religion: fatherhood. His older brother, Lex, would call first, because going behind someone’s back wasn’t his style. Only one reason was plausible. They must be expecting his new assistant.

But why the secrecy? Uncle Mo and Lex had been given the task of finding him an assistant who was good with computers. Unfortunately, their tastes didn’t seem to coincide with Chase’s. Whoever they sent was supposed to help with his correspondence, create a database for his farm records, and a website, but from their looks, his interfering family was trying to remind him that he was still a man despite his eye problems. All three assistants they had sent had been unmarried, pretty women with minimal computer skills. None of them had lasted more than a week. Most of them couldn’t hold a decent conversation without mentioning his restaurants or what an amazing chef he was. They had all acted as if his blindness was only a passing phase, a thing that used to annoy him during those months when he couldn’t see a thing.

He had told Uncle Mo and Lex he didn’t need a pimp. Whoever they sent had better be male and know a lot about computers. And with his eyes improving so fast, he wouldn’t need an assistant for long.

Chase started up the stairs when the front door opened. He turned.

Despite the sunglasses, the sudden change in light intensity forced him to squint. Two people stood in the door, but he recognized Winston’s bow-legged, lanky frame.

Behind him was a woman. With the light pouring from behind her, he couldn’t see her face, but she was nearly as tall as Winston. She’d better not be who he thought she was.

“Winston, where have you been?” he asked, keeping his voice calm when he wanted to snarl and demand answers. The older man was too valuable an employee to treat with disrespect.

“I went to Butte to pick up your new assistant, boss.”

Chase ground his teeth, striving to stay cool. “Then you can turn around and take her back to the airport.”

CHAPTER 2

Was that Chase Fitzgerald? Surely, he couldn’t be talking about her. Not sure what to do, Nikki waited impatiently for the foreman to move aside or indicate she could enter the house, but he seemed rooted at the entrance. Her nervousness shot up.

“But, boss,” Winston said, “your uncle—”

“Had no business calling here and asking you to do anything behind my back,” Chase snapped. “Next time he calls, you tell me. If he asks for a favor, you tell me. Is that understood?”

Winston nodded. “Yes, boss.”

“Mrs. B?” Chase called out.

“I can hear you, dear. No need to yell or…”

Mrs. B spoke from somewhere inside the house, but Nikki couldn’t hear the rest of what she said. Nikki peeked from behind the foreman. For the second time since her arrival at Eagles Hill, Nikki had to snap her mouth shut before someone caught her gawking. First it was the two-level log house with its majestic entrance, flowerbeds, and neatly trimmed lawn that had surprised her. Now it was the owner.

Chase Fitzgerald.

Talk about virile. He stood in the middle of the stairs, one arm gripping the banister, his face tilted toward someone up the stairs. He was tall, or maybe the cowboy boots and thigh-hugging jeans added to that impression. The jeans hugged his narrow hips, while his strong powerful legs were planted on the floor as if he owned not only this beautiful home but also every living thing in it. His powerful thigh muscles flexed noticeably as he shifted, and Nikki felt a stirring in places that hadn’t responded to a man in months.

Her eyes moved upward, past a wide chest in a checkered cotton shirt, to his face. He wore sunglasses indoors, which made sense since the foreman had mumbled something about his eyes. Was he blind? Dee never mentioned it, and the foreman had been vague with his answers. She studied Fitzgerald’s face. Wide forehead, lean cheeks with high cheekbones, strong jaw line, and a determined chin. The unshaven look only added to his rugged good looks. His hair was cut short in the back and on the sides, but the top was longer and messy as though he’d run his fingers through it.

Winston moved forward, leaving her in the doorway. Nikki wasn’t sure whether to wait or enter. Fitzgerald was still focused on the woman—Mrs. B, who was still talking.

Silence followed, the kind that often followed a lecture. Had she been scolding him? Fitzgerald didn’t look like the kind of man any woman, young or old, would get mad at.

Winston cleared his throat. “What I was trying to say, boss, is your uncle chose well this time.”

He spoke with a familiarity of someone whose boss valued his opinion. Fitzgerald turned and faced him, but his head was tilted at a weird angle as though he was avoiding looking at her.

“Ms. Savoy is not like the others,” Winston continued. “She’s funny and smart, and not just book smart.”

Nikki grinned. She’d had a lively discussion about Montana history with the foreman. What did he mean by “not like the others”? She wasn’t the first programmer sent out here? Funny Mo Fitzgerald had forgotten to share that bit of information with her.

Fitzgerald beckoned Nikki inside. “Come inside, Ms. Savoy. Mrs. B, Winston, leave us.”

Nikki stepped inside the foyer, her grip tightening on the handle of her computer bag. Winston gently closed the door behind her. A woman, older with a short round figure, large bosom, and gray hair, hurried down the stairs. She carried a wicker hamper under one arm. She smiled in Nikki’s direction, but stopped a few steps above Fitzgerald so they were on eye level and asked, “She’s staying?”

Fitzgerald shook his head. “No, she’s not.”

“Why?” Mrs. B asked, her voice rising in exasperation.

His eyebrows shot up above the sunglasses. “Because I said so.”

The housekeeper dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. “Jibber-jabber, googly goop. You need her and you know it.” She wagged her finger in his face. “You’re just being impossible.”

Nikki couldn’t agree more.

“I know what’s best for this ranch.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her temple. “Now go.”

She shook her head. “If you think turning on the charm will make me—”

“I’m done discussing this with you, Mrs. B,” he added in a firm voice, his face a few inches from hers. “Go before I carry you out of the room.”

She harrumphed, walked to where Nikki stood, and offered her hand. “Welcome to Eagles Hill, Ms. Savoy. We’ll talk later.” She didn’t give Nikki a chance to respond before she waved to the foreman. “Come along, Winston. There’s no reasoning with him when he’s in one of his moods.”

“I will be fixin’ the south fence if you need me, boss,” Winston said as he followed Mrs. B.

“No,” Fitzgerald said in a firm voice. “Leave the fence for tomorrow and wait in the kitchen until I’m done with Ms. Savoy. You two have a long drive ahead of you.”

Nikki’s heart dropped. He really meant to send her away. She had to find a way to convince him to let her stay. He might hold the key to her sister’s future. Nikki would fight to stay and learn the truth of what happened that night.

As a nurse, she knew how to deal with difficult patients and their worried, angry, or sometimes impossible relatives. She could pretend Chase Fitzgerald was a sick, cantankerous rancher that needed to be nudged to see things her way. Whether she could pull it off was another thing all together. Fitzgerald didn’t look like a man anyone could manipulate.

Nikki waited until Mrs. B and the foreman left the foyer. Then she cleared her throat. “Uh, Mr. Fitzgerald, I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.”

***

Chase sucked in a breath as though someone had punched him in the solar plexus. He knew that voice. Deanna Marshal! Echoes of her screams and his inability to find her in the chaos that had followed the explosion still woke him up in a cold sweat.

“Your uncle, Mo Fitzgerald, hired me on your behalf. He said I was expected.”

Of course, she couldn’t be Deanna. The last information he’d received from the hospital in L.A. said she was still in a coma. Who was this woman who talked like his
sous chef
? She had the same husky intonation with a slight southern accent. The difference was hers was suggestive, hypnotic. It washed over him in gentle waves and stroked his senses. Deanna’s voice never had this kind of effect on him.

Chase whipped off his glasses. The sudden light intensity made him squint, but his eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light flowing into the foyer through the windows. She was definitely not Deanna, who was petite with strawberry blonde hair and a pixie face. This woman was tall, all curves and legs.

Waves of dark hair framed a face so breathtaking he stared at her in shock. Intelligent hazel eyes stared at him with grim determination from under thick, sooty lashes. But her eyes and face weren’t the reason he wanted to curse his uncle to hell and back.

Her lips.

He was unapologetically a lips man, and she had the kind that could drive a man crazy imagining them on his body. They were a pure work of art. Pouty. Lush. Kissable. Heat shot straight to his groin at his thoughts, and he smothered a curse. Where the hell was his self-control?

“Are you okay, Mr. Fitzgerald?” she asked with concern this time.

Blood was slow rushing back to his head. Of course, he was okay. She’d blindsided him by sounding like the woman who haunted his dreams and looking like every man’s wet dream.

“What are you?” Chase said with a voice devoid of emotion as he tried to fight the effect of her voice and the lure of her lips.

The corners of her mouth twitched until a smile spread across her lips. “Last time I checked, a woman,” she said and chuckled, the sound making the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Time slow down as blood pounded past his ears. Hell. A woman had never turned him speechless with a smile. This woman had to go. She wasn’t just going to screw with his head; every male on his ranch was going to act like a dimwit around her and probably injure one of his priceless mares. He used ironclad will to control his responses to her.

“I meant,
what
do you do? Are you my assistant or a Playmate masquerading as a data analyst?”

It was probably the dumbest question he’d ever asked a woman, and he waited for her to storm out. Instead, she pursed those delectable lips, further screwing with his mind without even knowing it, and grinned.

“Playmate? Me? I’m not sure if you meant that as an insult, but I like it. No one has ever called me a Playmate.”

Chase blinked, surprised by her response. He knew women. Knew how they’d respond in any given situation. Most would have marched across the room and slapped him or called him an ass. This one mocked him. What was a woman like her doing on his ranch? Everything about her, from her designer jeans to her silk shirt to the painted toenails peaking from her sandals, said she was a city girl.

Refusing to back down or feel guilty, he retorted, “It was not a compliment.”

“Too bad. I own it now. Miss May?” She cocked her eyebrow as though waiting for his response, and then she wrinkled her nose. “No, Miss June since it’s only a few days away.”

She would suck as a model. She might have the height and the face, but she was so curvaceous the focus would be on her. The gentle sway of her hips as she closed the gap between them was also natural, not exaggerated for effect.

Heat stole through his body at her nearness, a gentle scent drifting from her and teasing his nose. It was as though every cell in his body reacted to her.

Granted he hadn’t gotten laid in months, but he should still be able to control himself around a woman, even one with a smile like a sucker punch and a body he would have ravished with abandonment a year ago.

He wanted her gone. He had a goal to get his ranch in tiptop shape, and it wasn’t going to happen while he lusted after one of his uncle’s women. When she stuck out her hand, he stared at it as though it was a foreign object.

“Miss June—”

“Nikki Savoy,” she corrected him. “I’m not a data analyst or one of your uncle’s women. Older men don’t appeal to me, not even charming ones like your uncle.”

She smiled as though enjoying a private a joke, and Chase found himself wondering what his uncle had done or said to make her think he was charming. Uncle Mo was a shark in the courtroom and didn’t care who knew it, and he was very discriminate when it came to the women bedded. He liked them smart and sophisticated, like Ms. Savoy.

“However,” she continued in that sultry voice, which was sounding less and less like Deanna’s, “I’ve been engaged on your behalf by his law firm to create a dynamic website for your business. A week, ten days tops, is all I need and I’ll have you situated.”

So she was determined to continue with the charade. He ought to call her bluff. Challenge her to create a basic website in three days or her ass was out the door.

“I have papers in case you’re thinking of firing me,” she said as though she’d read his mind.

“I was not thinking of firing you, Ms. Savoy.”

She laughed, and the effect on him was worse than her smile. The sound swirled around him, making him feel both excited and weak. His heart pounded in his chest like Thunder’s hooves sprinting through the meadow.

“Good, because you’re lucky I agreed to come out here,” she continued, oblivious to her effect on him. “There’s a long waiting list for my one-of-a-kind websites, but I managed to squeeze you in. For a hefty fee, of course. I don’t come cheap.”

“I meant, I’m not
thinking
of firing you,” he snapped. “I
am
firing you.”

She blinked then shook her head.

“No, no, no.” She wagged her finger like a schoolteacher reprimanding a student, though she looked nothing like any teacher he’d ever had. “You can’t,” she added, digging into her bag. “I have a contract. Right. Here.” She whipped out an envelope and waved it triumphantly. “It states that I’m here to set up your website. In exchange, I get room and board. It is very legal and binding.” She offered it to him and waited expectantly.

Chase hated the fact that she wasn’t easily intimidated. The women his uncle had sent before would be in tears by now, begging him to let them stay or to be taken to the nearest airport.

“I didn’t sign it, so technically I’m not obligated to honor it. I’m sorry you made the trip out here for nothing, Ms. Savoy.”

“Your uncle said you need me, Mr. Fitzgerald.”

Need her? Miss June, with her prefect lips, brought to mind a different kind of need. There was no room on his ranch for someone like her. She’d only remind him of what was missing in his life, the dream he’d meant to share with one woman.

“Winston will drive you back to Butte, Ms. Savoy,” Chase said.

Ms. Savoy stared at him with round, distraught eyes, the light dimming from their depth. He felt like an ass hole. Like he had crushed her spirit. The urge to reassure her and take back his words stole over him, but he stomped on them. She was trouble and had to go.

“Excuse me.” He turned and started for the kitchen.

***

Nikki was shocked when she realized the cowboy was serious.

“Mr. Fitzgerald, your uncle acted on your behalf when he signed this contract. It is your responsibility to fulfill it.” She moderated her tone and tried not to let her temper get the best of her. But, damn it, he made it so hard. He had the answers she needed. Having come this far, she refused to cut her losses by getting angry.