In Bed with the Wrangler (9 page)

“I’m hiring an expert to do a review,” he announced, having made a split-second decision.

The group exchanged dubious glances, but nobody said anything.

“Creighton Waverley Security.”

“You think we’re criminals?” Konrad thundered across the table.

“I think they’re one hell of a research firm,” Royce countered calmly. “We’re going to review every company we own, take stock and make our decisions. Anybody who’s not on board with it is free to leave.”

He looked to each of the people in turn around the table. Nobody was happy, but nobody was walking away, either.

Now that he’d taken the first step on the fly, he supposed the second step had better be to have Amber put him in touch with her best friend’s firm.

Amber helped a waiting group of children into the back of the wooden wagon, while a Ryder cowboy double-checked the harnesses on the matched Clydesdale team out front. Sasha was handing out giant chocolate chip cookies while, off to one side, Wesley was teasing Stephanie with his lariat. Amber did a double take of the two. If she wasn’t mistaken, Wesley had developed a crush on his riding instructor.

She smiled to herself. Wesley was a very attractive,
fun-loving man. It wouldn’t surprise her in the least if the crush was reciprocated.

“I have to talk to you.” The mere sound of Royce’s voice behind her caused a little thrill to zip through Amber’s body. But in contrast to Wesley, Royce sounded tense and serious.

“Something wrong?” She helped the last little boy into the wagon, dusting her hands off on the sides of her jeans.

Royce moved to the corner of the wagon and pushed up the tailgate, sliding the latch to keep everyone safely inside.

Stephanie planted a foot on the wagon wheel and jumped in with the kids. Wesley quickly followed suit, taking a seat next to her on one of the padded benches, and Amber was sure she’d guessed right.

Royce backed out of the way, towing Amber with him as a cowboy unhitched the lead horse and turned the team toward the road.

“I’ve been meeting with the division heads,” said Royce.

“What did you find out?” Amber had realized Royce and the senior managers were missing, and she’d easily guessed they were talking business. She raised her hand to wave to the cheering children as the wagon creaked down the road.

Royce pulled her toward the shadow of the barn, speaking low into her ear, his voice bringing flash memories of their night together. “I was wondering if you could do something for me.”

“I don’t know, Royce.” She glanced around at the crowds. “There’s an awful lot of people in the barn right now.”

“You have a one-track mind,” he admonished.

She grinned at him. She did seem particularly obsessed with making love.

“Not that I’d say no to a more interesting offer,” he clarified. “But I was hoping to get in touch with your friend Katie. I need to know the who’s who of Creighton Waverley.”

The request brought Amber back to reality. “I thought you were going to let
me
investigate Norman Stanton.”

“What?”

“I’m doing a good job,” she informed him, pursing her lips.

Royce suddenly grinned.

“What?”

“You. Jumping to conclusions.”

“Quit laughing at me.”

“Then stop being so entertaining.”

“Stop being condescending.”

“Stop pouting.”

“I like investigating. I want to see this through.”

Royce’s smile turned sly, and he cocked his head meaningfully toward the barn. “Yeah?” he drawled.

“Now who’s got a one-track mind?”

“Guilty,” he agreed with an easy smile, but at the same time, he backed off.

A cheer went up at the baseball game, while a freshening breeze brought the aroma of hamburgers from the cook tent.

Amber brushed at a lazy fly.

“I’m commissioning a review of all the Ryder companies,” said Royce. “We’re going to have to make some tough decisions, and I thought Creighton Waverley might be able to help.”

“So, I’m keeping my job?”

He brushed the back of his hand along her upper arm and leaned closer again. “Now
that
remains to be seen.”

“I’m not bribing you with sex.”

He exaggerated an offended tone. “I’d bribe you with sex.”

She extracted her cell phone from her jeans pocket. “I’m bribing you with Katie’s phone number.”

“Fair enough. I’ll bribe you for something else later.”

Amber couldn’t help but smile as she punched in Katie’s cell number.

“Amber,” came the breathless answer. “I was just about to call you. Are you at a hoedown or something?”

Amber glanced around for the source of a noise that might have made it through the phone. “What makes you ask that?”

“Checked tablecloths, cowboy hats, horses.”

Amber glanced down at her phone, then put it back to her ear. “Do you have some kind of monitor on me?”

“No, I have a white Lexus, over in front of the house. At least I think it’s the house. The building with the porch and, yep, it’s a hitching rail.”

Amber whirled around.

Sure enough, Katie was emerging from a low-slung sports car, wearing a short, blue, clingy dress, high-heeled pumps, with her honey-blond hair in a jaunty updo. Her small bag was beaded, and she reminded Amber of how long it had been since she’d had a manicure or a facial.

Amber took a reflexive step away from Royce. “What are you
doing
here?”

“I have to talk to you.”

“That’s what telephones are for.” A sudden fear
gripped Amber. “There’s nobody with you, is there?” Like Hargrove or her parents.

“Relax,” said Katie as she picked her way along the edge of the baseball field. “Your secret is safe.” She grinned and gave Amber a wave.

Several dozen cowboys followed her progress.

“That’s Katie,” Amber told Royce.

“She does know how to make an entrance,” he muttered, watching as raptly as anyone else on the ranch.

Amber felt an unwelcome pinch of jealousy.

“Who’s that with you?” asked Katie as she drew ever closer.

“Royce Ryder.”

“Nice.”

Okay, jealousy was silly. Katie was an attractive woman, and Royce was an attractive man. They’d noticed. So what?

“Do you have any idea how far away this place is?” Katie called across the grass, folding her phone closed now that she was in shouting range.

“It’s Chicago that’s far away,” Royce countered. “Montana is right here.”

Katie grinned as she stepped up, holding out her perfect, magenta-tipped hand. “Katie Merrick. Creighton Waverley Security.” She shook, then opened her purse, dropped the phone inside and extracted a business card, handing it to Royce.

“I was about to call you,” said Royce.

“Well, isn’t that perfect,” Katie returned, glancing around the ranch yard. “Any chance they’re serving margaritas at this shindig?”

It was a slow walk back to the ranch house, where
Sasha whipped up a blender of margaritas while Amber, Royce and Katie settled in on the deck. Gopher immediately jumped into Amber’s lap.

“You’ll want Alec Creighton’s help,” said Katie. She’d been all business while Royce had explained his plans for Ryder International.

“Your boss?” asked Royce as he poured the frozen green concoction into tall glasses.

“My boss’s son. He’s not with Creighton Waverley. He’s sort of a lone-wolf troubleshooter. We subcontract to him on occasion. I can give you a list of a hundred satisfied clients if you like.” Katie accepted the drink with a nod of thanks.

“How do I get hold of him?” Royce handed Amber a drink. She still couldn’t believe Katie had come all the way to Montana. And since they’d done nothing but discuss Ryder International business since she’d arrived, Amber couldn’t begin to guess
why
she’d come all the way to Montana.

“I’ll get him to call you.” Katie took a sip of her drink. “He won’t take on a client without a referral.”

“Appreciate that,” said Royce with a salute of his drink.

Amber couldn’t keep quiet any longer, and her voice came out more demanding than she’d intended. “What are you doing here, Katie?”

Katie shrugged. “I missed you.”

It didn’t ring true. There was something in Katie’s eyes—guilt, maybe fear.

Amber was suspicious. “Did you tell my parents I was here?”

“I can’t believe you’d even ask me that. Can’t a girl visit her best friend?” Katie took another swig, smiling far too brightly. “Okay if I stay over tonight?”

W
rapped in a fluffy robe, Katie sat cross-legged on the end of Amber’s bed while Amber washed her face at the sink inside the en-suite bathroom door.

“Just how long are you planning to stay here?” Katie asked, her voice muffled by the gush of the running water.

“I haven’t decided,” Amber answered, dipping her face forward to rinse it, then blindly grabbing for a towel.

As the days went by, she thought less and less about going home. Oh, she knew she’d have to, and probably soon. But there simply wasn’t anything tugging her in that direction.

“You know the wedding shower’s coming up, right?”

Amber peeked out from behind the towel. “Nobody canceled it?”

“Nobody believed you were serious. There are people flying in from all over the country.”

Amber tossed the towel over the rack and paced back into the room. “They’re still putting on my wedding shower?”

Katie nodded, while Amber dropped down onto the bed.

“The shower cake’s gorgeous,” Katie offered.

“This is a disaster.”

Katie reached out to rub Amber’s arm. “You breaking it off with Hargrove was the disaster. The shower, the dress…” Her hand gripped on Amber’s shoulder. Then she abruptly stood up and crossed the room.

“I tried on your dress,” she blurted out, turning to brace her back against the bureau.

Amber blinked in surprise. “You did? How’d it look?”

“Gorgeous. Absolutely, stunningly gorgeous.”

“It’s too bad we’ll have to sell it,” said Amber. “I can’t see ever wearing it.”

Katie nodded, her eyes staring blankly into space. “Gorgeous. Really gorgeous.”

Amber pictured her friend twirling in front of the mirror. Katie always did have a romantic streak.

Suddenly, Katie clenched her fists, and her eyes scrunched shut. “Oooh, you have to promise me you won’t get mad.”

“Why would I get mad?” Truth was, Amber wondered if Katie had taken pictures while she modeled the dress. It might be interesting to see how it had turned out.

“I…did something,” Katie confessed in a harsh whisper.

“To the dress?”

Katie didn’t answer, but the color drained from her face.

“Did you spill something on it? Tear it?” Amber waited for an emotional reaction to her wedding dress being ruined, but it didn’t come.

Katie emphatically shook her head. “No. The dress is fine.”

“Then what are you so worried about?”

Katie picked up a china horse figurine from the top of the bureau, stroking her fingertip across its glossy surface. She looked at Amber then drew a breath.

“Katie?”

“He saw me in it.”

“Who saw you in what?”

“Hargrove. He saw me in the wedding dress.”

Amber didn’t exactly understand why that was a problem.

Katie set down the figurine, her words speeding up, hands clasping together. “After it was delivered, and I had it on and was prancing around my apartment, he knocked on the door. I didn’t know it was him. And, well, when I opened it…” She stopped talking.

“That’s when Hargrove saw you in the wedding dress?”

Katie nodded miserably.

Amber fought an urge to smile. “I don’t think that’s bad luck or anything.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Seriously, Katie. I can imagine he was annoyed.” Hargrove was nothing if not mired in propriety. “But we’re selling the damn thing anyway.”

Katie drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Thing is, he really, uh, liked the dress.”

“Well, at that price, he’d better have liked it.”

“I mean, well…” Katie gazed down at her front, picking a dark speck from the terry-cloth pile of the robe. “He really liked
me
in it.”

Amber blinked. “So?” It was probably a good fit. She and Katie were pretty close to the same size.

“And—” Katie buried her face in her hands “—turns out, he liked me out of it, too.”

Amber was silent for a full ten seconds. “You’re going to have to repeat that.”

Katie spread her fingers, peeking out as if she was looking at a horror movie. “I am the
worst
friend
ever
.”

Amber gave her head a little shake. “What are you saying?”

Katie just stared at her.

“Are you saying you
slept
with Hargrove?” It wasn’t possible. Nothing made less sense than that.

But Katie nodded. “It happened so fast. One minute he was staring at me. Then he was kissing me. Then the dress came off, and well, yeah, there might have been a bit of a tear around the buttonholes—”

Amber shook her head. “You’re not making any sense.”

“I am
so
sorry,” Katie wailed, pressing a fist against her mouth. “You must hate me.”

“No. No, it’s not that.”

“I had to come and tell you in person.”

“I’m confused, not mad.” Amber tried to make her point. “Hargrove doesn’t get overcome with passion and tear off dresses.” Not the Hargrove she knew.

Katie blinked like an owl.

“He’s staid, proper,
controlled
.”

Katie blinked once more. A flush rose up from the base of her throat, coloring her face. “Actually…”

Amber rose from the bed. “Actually, what?”

“Sexually speaking, I wouldn’t call him staid, and I definitely wouldn’t call him proper.”

“Are you telling me…?”

Katie gave a meaningful nod.

“You had wild, impulsive sex with Hargrove?”

Something deep and warm flared in Katie’s eyes, and she nodded.

“And…it was…
good?
” Amber asked in disbelief.

“It was fantastic.”

Amber tried to wrap her head around that. “But…What…” She gripped the bedpost to steady herself. “Sorry. We can’t get technical about this.” She paused. “Can we?”

Katie cocked her head. “I take it it wasn’t always good for you?”

“It was, um…” How did she say this? “Kind of boring.”

“No way. You mean he didn’t—” Katie’s blush deepened.

Amber was forced to stifle a laugh. “Whatever it is you’re not saying, I’m pretty sure he didn’t do it with me.”

Katie fought a grin and lost. “So, you’re not mad?”

Amber shook her head, sitting back down on the bed. “I broke up with him.”

Katie crossed the room to sit beside her, relieved amusement coloring her tone. “You’re probably not going to want the wedding dress back.”

“Keep it. Maybe you should keep Hargrove, too. Think of them as a set.”

“Maybe I will,” Katie said softly.

Amber turned to gaze at her friend and saw the glow in Katie’s eyes. She raised her brows in a question, and Katie nodded, wiping a single tear with the back of her hand.

Surprised, but not the least bit unhappy, Amber wrapped her arm around Katie’s shoulders. “You do realize what this means, don’t you?”

“What?”

“I get to wear the maid of honor’s dress.” Amber paused. “You know, I always liked that one better anyway.”

“Take it,” said Katie. “It’s yours.”

Amber drew a deep sigh. “Wow. Does Hargrove know?”

“That I slept with him?” There was a strengthening thread of laughter in Katie’s voice.

“That you came here to confess.”

Katie shook her head. “He thinks…Wait. I almost forgot.” She bounced off the bed to her small suitcase. “I found something for you.”

Hunting through her things, she extracted a manila envelope. “Pictures of Norman Stanton. And his brother, Frank. Also a sister and parents—the three of them died quite a few years back.”

Amber accepted the envelope, her thoughts going to Royce. Now it was her turn to feel guilty.

“What?” Katie asked, gauging Amber’s expression.

“There’s something you don’t know.”

“About the investigation?”

Amber shook her head. “About me.” She shut her eyes for a second. “Oh, hell. I’m sleeping with Royce.”

Katie drew back. “Whoa. You cheated on Hargrove?”

“No.”
Amber swatted Katie with the envelope. “I did not cheat on Hargrove. I broke up with Hargrove. Lucky for you.”

“True,” Katie agreed. Then she sobered. “This cowboy dude? He rocks your world?”

“And how.”

“So.” Katie cocked her head toward the bedroom door. “What are you waiting for?”

“I didn’t want to be rude.”

“Unlike me who slept with your fiancé.”

“Ex.”

“Whatever. Go see your cowboy. I’ll catch you at breakfast.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.
I
don’t want to sleep with you.”

Amber grinned, came to her feet and headed out the door.

On the way across the hall, she slit the envelope open, sliding out some eight-by-ten photos.

First one was labeled Norman. He had receding hair, dark, beady eyes and a little goatee. Yeah, she could see him as a blackmailer.

The next was Frank, an older picture. This was the guy who’d broken up Royce’s family. He wasn’t bad-looking, but not fantastic, either. He seemed a little on the thin side. But maybe that was a generational thing.

She flipped to the next picture, raising her hand to rap on Royce’s door. But she froze, hand in midair, the picture of Frank and Norman’s sister stopping her cold.

The young girl had a trophy in her hand and a broad smile on her face. Amber stared for a long minute, then slowly turned to the next picture. It was the parents, and the next one was a thirty-year-old family portrait. The final picture was another headshot of Norman.

Amber paged back to the picture of the sister for a final look. Then, stomach twisting around nothing, she rapped on Royce’s bedroom door.

His voice was muffled and incomprehensible, but she opened the door anyway. He was lying in bed, a hardcover book in his hands, the bedside lamp glowing yellow against his natural wood walls.

“Hey.” He smiled, letting the book fall to his lap.

“Hi.” She clicked the door shut behind her.

“Something wrong?”

She nodded.

His smile immediately faded. “Katie?”

“Kind of.” Amber moved across the room.

His eyes cooled. “News from…home?”

Amber sat down on the bed. “We have a problem.”

He tossed the book aside. “You’re reconciling with Hargrove.”

“What?
No
. How could you say that?”

Royce didn’t answer.

“This has nothing to do with Hargrove.” She wanted to be annoyed with Royce for even thinking that it might have been Hargrove, but there wasn’t time for that. Instead, she covered his hand, trying to prepare him. “I have pictures of the Stantons. And it’s not what we think.”

“What do we think?”

She slipped the pictures out of the envelope and spread them on the bed. “Look.”

Royce clenched his jaw as he leafed through them. “I’ve seen Frank Stanton before. He lived on the ranch for a while. Worked with the horses. That’s how they met.”

“Look at the sister,” Amber whispered.

Royce shifted his gaze. “She was into horses, too,” he surmised. The trophy was obviously equestrian.

“Look at her chin,” said Amber. “Her eyes, the hairline.”

Royce glanced from the picture to Amber, brows furrowing.

“Stephanie, Royce.”

“What about Stephanie?”

“Stephanie is the spitting image of…” Amber flipped the picture over to read the handwriting on the back. “Clara Stanton, Frank and Norman’s sister.”

“No.” He glanced back down. “She doesn’t look anything like…” Royce’s breathing went deep.

“He’s not blackmailing you over murder.”

“Son of a bitch.”

She didn’t want to say it out loud.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Shh.”

Royce turned to her with haunted eyes. “This can’t be right.”

There was nothing she could say to cushion the blow.

“It can’t be real.”

It was real all right. Stephanie was Frank Stanton’s daughter.

“Who else knows?” he demanded.

“No one.”

“Katie?”

Amber shook her head. “Not even Katie. I only figured it out in the hallway thirty seconds ago.”

He glanced back down at the picture. “We can’t tell Stephanie. It’ll kill her. She was two years old when they died. She doesn’t even know about the affair.”

“I won’t tell Stephanie.” But Amber realized that meant paying off Norman again.

Royce rolled out of bed, pacing across the floor, photo still gripped in his hand. He was stark naked, but the fact didn’t seem to register.

He strode past the bay window, raking a hand through his hair. “We…”

Then he turned at the wall, glanced at the picture and threw it down on a dresser. “I…”

He stopped dead, fisted both hands and glared at Amber. “There’s got to be a way out.”

“I’m sure there is,” she agreed in the most soothing voice she could muster.

He crossed back over to the bed, sat down and uttered a crude cuss. “That bastard’s got us by the balls.”

Amber didn’t know how to answer. It was true, but agreeing seemed counterproductive.

“We can’t tell Stephanie,” he reaffirmed.

Amber nodded.

Royce snagged his phone from the table. He punched a couple of numbers and put it to his ear.

“Who—” Amber stopped herself.

“Jared.”

She knew Jared had been out of touch for several days now.

It appeared he still was.

Royce’s voice was terse as he left the voice-mail message. “Jared. Royce. Call me now. Right now.” He
punched the off button then leaned back against the headboard.

She dared to reach out and touch his bare shoulder. It was hot, hard as a rock. “Anything I can do?”

“Short of fixing a deal with the Chinese, finding a sailboat in the middle of the South Pacific or giving Norman Stanton a fatal disease? Not really.”

“Right.” She slipped across the bed to sit close beside him, curling her arm around his tense back. “Moral support doesn’t really cut it at the moment, does it?”

He wrapped one of his arms around her and then the other. Then he bent to kiss the top of her head. “Moral support is better than nothing.”

She struggled to find a smile. “That’s always been a dream of mine. To be better than nothing.”

He gave her a gentle squeeze and whispered above her head. “Will you stay?”