Treasuring Amber: The Temptation Saga: Book Five (7 page)

She clenched both fists. “I did
not
pose for photos!”

“You can say that till the cows come home, but we have the physical evidence right here. Trust me, no one in Bakersville will know where these photos came from. They won’t know they came from me. You can blab it all over town that Blake Buchanan tried to coerce you into paying him to keep the photos secret. Still, the photos speak for themselves. Do you think people will care whether I tried to get money out of you? Do you think they’ll even believe it? Hell, no. They’ll be too busy gossiping and sneaking looks at the goods. You’ll be ruined in this town.”

She shook her drooping head. He’d beaten her. “And every other town I try to escape to, I assume, unless you get your money.”

“Now we’re speaking the same language.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can. Because I need the money.”

“I told you, I don’t have it.”

“You have a week.” He turned off the laptop, closed it, stood, and walked to the door. “I’ll be in touch.”

Amber slammed the door, ran to the bathroom, and emptied her stomach.

A
mber had been crying
on her bed for an hour when her cell phone rang.

“Hey, baby, it’s me.”

Harper. She sniffed. “Hi there.”

“Listen, I know this is short notice, but can you come to my place for dinner tonight?”

She was a mess and a half. She had to turn him down. “I’m sorry. I can’t, Harper.”

“Do you have other plans? If so, change them. This is worth your while, I promise.”

An evening with Harper could do wonders for her, but it would only be a temporary fix. It pained her to turn him down. “I said I can’t.”

“Baby, what’s wrong? You sound all nasal.”

“I’m fine. It’s just…allergies. Terrible hay fever.”

What a stupid lie. But maybe he’d buy it.

“Take an antihistamine then. And get yourself all prettied up and come to my place for dinner.”

Can’t he take a hint?
“Harper, if you want sex, I don’t think—”

He laughed. “Of course I want sex, Amber. You’re hot, and I like you. But that’s not what this is about. Just say you’ll come. Please?”

“I really can’t.”

“You won’t regret it, I promise.”

Of course she wouldn’t regret it. She’d never regret spending time with him. But she was screwed up right now. Her eyes were swollen and her nose red. She glanced at the clock beside her bed. Two.

“What time?”

“How does six sound?”

Four hours. Could she get herself together in that amount of time? God knew she needed something to get her mind off the mess she was in. She couldn’t accomplish anything toward her goal of twenty grand on a Sunday evening. Why not spend it with Harper?

“Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Great! I can’t wait to see you. Bye now.”

“Bye.”

She turned her head back into her pillow and cried some more.

A
n hour
later she steeled herself and rose from the bed. A quick look in her bathroom mirror and she considered calling Harper to cancel. She looked like death, to put it bluntly. Not death warmed over.

Just death.

Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks and hair matted with tears and snot, her skin pasty and gray, her nose so red she could double as Rudolph.

Like an idiot, she’d neglected to get the web site information and password from Blake Buchanan, so she couldn’t do any research on her little problem. He hadn’t left a number, just said he’d be in touch.

Asshole.

She turned on the shower and cranked the water as hot as it would go. She needed heat, and then she’d splash her face with cold when she got out. Hopefully that would avert some of the swelling.

She washed her hair twice and conditioned it with a hot oil treatment. When she dried off and looked at her face, she was pleasantly surprised. She splashed several handfuls of cold water over it, and she looked almost normal. Eye drops got rid of the red eyes. Her eyelids were still slightly swollen, but probably not noticeable to anyone who didn’t know to look for it. Now if she could just keep from crying until after she got home from Harper’s.

That’s all it took—just that one thought and tears started to flow. She gulped them away. Nope. Had to stay strong at least for tonight. Heck, for tomorrow too. She had to go into work. She needed all the money she could make right now.

She dried her hair and pulled it into a high ponytail. The stretch would make her face look less cried out. Well, it was a thought anyway. She put on just a touch of makeup and lipstick.

She dressed in a denim miniskirt and silk blouse. She slid on navy mules and pronounced herself fit—as well as could be expected—for human eyes.

She had an hour before she needed to leave, so she got her tablet out and Googled Rachel’s. Time to find out what might be going on.

Marta. That was the woman’s name. She was European—German, or Austrian. Amber never knew which one. She went only by Marta. She wasn’t stuck with a stupid stage name like Ambrosia Love.

Maybe she didn’t need one.

She wore leather and furs and diamonds, all gifts from the men she serviced, Amber had assumed at the time. Now she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps she made her own money…by luring unsuspecting new young strippers to her place to get drunk and have their photos taken.

Amber shook her head. Surely alcohol couldn’t have been responsible for this. She and Laura must have been drugged. But with what?

Tears threatened again, and she clicked off her tablet. No use crying over spilled milk, or alcohol, or whatever they’d given her.

Damn it, I want a nice evening with Harper.
And she would have it. She could lose it tomorrow.

She had no doubt she would.

Her body remained tense during the half-hour drive to Harper’s ranch house. She tried breathing in through her mouth, out through her nose, and finally gave up. Relaxation wasn’t to be.

Tonight she might forego her two drink minimum. Some alcohol might be just what she needed.

Course she really didn’t want to go there. Not with the genes she carried inside her. And certainly not with what she’d just learned had happened one of the two times she’d allowed herself to get drunk.

She’d have a nice glass of wine. Harper liked wine and he seemed to know a little bit about it. She’d had half a glass with him last night, after all. And that was after she’d had two cosmos at the party.

Course it was a lot later that she had the wine, so she hadn’t really violated her own rule.

One glass of wine. Hopefully it would relax her.

Maybe with a valium chaser?

Sheesh.

She drove onto the Cha Cha ranch property and followed the directions Harper had given her. Soon his ranch house came into view. She liked his house. It wasn’t huge and sprawling like his mother’s a few miles away, or Catie’s that she shared with Chad.

Modest was nice. More her style.

She parked, walked to the door, and knocked.

Harper opened it, looking just as tousled and sexy as he always did. How did his hair always look so charmingly disheveled? It just begged her to run her fingers through it. His muscular rancher’s body looked heavenly in jeans and a black western shirt.

McCray boys be damned. Harper Bay was the most handsome man in Bakersville.

“Hey, baby. It’s great to see you.” He pulled her close and gave her a smoldering kiss.

The familiar jolts coursed through her. God, this man affected her like no one else.

“So what’s the big surprise?” she asked.

“What makes you think there’s a surprise? Maybe I just wanted to have dinner with you.”

His eyes gleamed. Mischief. He was up to no good.

“Stop kidding around, Harp. I’ve had a day and a half.”

“You have? What’s wrong, baby?”

Aw hell, what’d I go and say that for?
She sure didn’t want to get into that with him. Not tonight. “Oh, just my allergies and all.”

“I didn’t know you had allergies.”

That was because she didn’t. “Just some hay fever. It acts up now and then.”

He took her hand. “So what did you do today?”

“Other than sneeze my ass off? Just went to the grocery store.”
And got blackmailed. Nothing much.

“Would you like a drink? I learned how to make a cosmo just for you.”

“Did you?”
God, he’s sweet.

“Yup. Got one all ready for you. I even tasted it, and you know what? It’s not half bad.”

“Of course not. Do you think I’d drink something bad?”

He furrowed his brow. “It’s pink, Amber.”

She let out a laugh. “That’s the splash of cranberry, genius.”

“Yes, I know that. It’s just, I never thought a pink drink would taste good. But it’s pretty good.”

“It’s basically a vodka martini with some triple sec and a splash of cranberry juice, Harp. It’s not all that girly of a drink.”

“Yeah, but it’s pink.”

She shook her head, smiling. “So you’ve mentioned.”

He handed her the drink. “Aren’t you having one?”

“I don’t do pink drinks.” He grinned.

“What are you having then?”

“A vodka martini.”

She laughed again. “You’re too funny. So are you going to tell me what my surprise is?”

“It’ll be here soon.”

“Oh.” She perked up. Granted, she’d had a shit day, but she was like a little girl when it came to surprises. She loved getting presents. Always had. She’d gotten darn few in her lifetime. She took a sip of her drink. “Not bad, cowboy, for your first time.”

“Thank you.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Damn, he was good-looking. Shudders ran down her spine and settled between her legs. She hadn’t thought it possible to get turned on tonight, after the day she’d had. But Harper Bay could do it to her.

“Go on out to the deck and have a seat,” he said. “I thought we’d eat outside. It’s such a warm night for the end of April.”

“Sounds good.” Actually it sounded great. Amber loved the outdoors, and Colorado was such a beautiful state.

“I’ll be out in a minute. I want to take care of a few things.”

“Okay.” She went outside and stood on the deck, inhaling the fresh evening air. The peaks of the Rockies glowed violet and indigo against the azure sky spotted with fluffy clouds. The sun was an orange ball sitting atop the snowcapped mountains. She inhaled again, ignoring the aroma of cow that crept by.

She took a seat at his patio table. It was set for three.

Three?

So her surprise was a person?

Who could it be?

Before she had time to think, the French doors opened with a squeak behind her. She stood and turned to see Harper and a nice-looking older man with dirty blond hair and golden eyes.

Harper’s dark eyes sparkled. “Amber, I’d like you to meet Thunder Morgan.”

A
mber’s pulse
pounded inside her head.
What the fuck has he done?
She was in no condition to meet her birth father. She’d just been blackmailed, for God’s sake. To be fair, Harper didn’t know that, but still, he was interfering in something that wasn’t his business. Who did he think he was, anyway?

“Harper”—she forced a smile—“may I see you inside for a moment?”

“What’s up?”

She steadied her breathing, afraid she might lose control. “Just something I need to get your opinion on in the kitchen. You don’t mind, do you, Mr. Morgan?”

“Not at all.”

She clenched her teeth. Could this day get any worse? “We’ll only be a minute.”

She dragged Harper through the kitchen and out into the living room where she could be sure Thunder Morgan wouldn’t hear them.

“What in God’s name were you thinking?”

“Relax.” He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t tell him anything. I just gave him a call when I got back home this morning and found out he was in Denver for a few weeks. So I invited him up for dinner. He’s a great guy. I want you to get to know him.”

Amber stared at him. He was actually serious. “And exactly what do you propose I say to him? ‘Hi, I’m the daughter you never knew you had?’”

“Of course not. As far as he knows, at least for tonight, you’re my friend. My date. Whatever you want to be.”

“What I want to be is not here.”

“Amber, come on. I didn’t tell him your last name, so no worries. I thought you’d be happy to meet him.”

“You caught me off guard, Harper. Jesus! Don’t you think I might have liked a little time to prepare for this?”

“If I had given you time to prepare for it you would have freaked out.”

“Uh…yeah. Kind of like I’m doing now?”

“I mean you would have freaked yourself out into a frenzy before he ever go here. Now you can just go with the flow.”

She paced around his Berber carpet, sure she was wearing tracks in it. “Does this look like a person who’s going with the flow?”

“Calm down, baby. You’re going to get along great.”

“So I’m just supposed to—what?—talk about
what
exactly? What do I have to say to a bronc buster?”

“You’re the rodeo queen. You have a lot in common. You represent the rodeo.”

Yeah, the rodeo queen. If Blake Buchanan had anything to say about it, she’d be dethroned in a week’s time.

“And a few days ago you talked about learning barrel racing.”

She rubbed her temples. Her interest in barrel racing seemed like a lifetime ago. Yet he was right. It had only been a few days ago. Why, oh why, had she ever wanted to race? If she hadn’t, Catie wouldn’t have introduced her to Blake Buchanan, and he wouldn’t have recognized her from Rachel’s and started snooping around on the Internet.

What if, what if, what if?

What if her mother hadn’t kicked her out? What if she’d been able to get work doing nails and had never gone to Rachel’s?

She sighed. Life was full of “what ifs.”

“Amber”—Harper traced her lower lip with his finger—“I’m sorry if this isn’t a surprise you particularly wanted. I thought you’d be happy. I wouldn’t do anything to make you unhappy.”

“I know that.”

“But I invited him here. He’s a friend of my family. And right now we’re being rude.”

She nodded. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry. I just wish I knew what to say.”

“You’re good with people. I’ll start him talking, and then you just pop into the conversation when you’re ready, okay?”

“Sure, I can do that.” She let out a breath. “I guess it’s now or never then.”

“Come on.” He took her hand. “You’ll be great.”

T
hunder Morgan had led
an interesting life, traveling the rodeo circuit. He’d even done German rodeos for a while. He had a wonderful sense of humor, and soon Amber was laughing until tears formed in her eyes.

Her eyes.

They were almost identical to his.

Did he notice?

“Did you ever regret not settling down?” she asked.

“Well, not overly,” he said. “Sure, it would have been nice to have a wife to come home to and kids to carry on the name, but would it have been fair to them? Would it be fair to a wife to never be home, to never help her with the kids? Would it be fair to the kids to have to grow up without a father?”

A lump formed in Amber’s throat. “I see what you mean.”

“I was a traveler. For a while I didn’t keep a permanent residence at all. I just hit circuit after circuit, winning purse after purse, putting away what I could for a rainy day. When you’re in the rodeo, you know you can’t do it forever. It’s kind of like pro football. Your body eventually says no more.”

“Seems you had quite a good run,” Harper said.

“Yup, a sight better than most.”

“Do you keep a permanent residence now?” Amber asked.

“Sure do. On the western slope. Not too far from Harper’s ranch out there.”

“I told you that Thunder used to work at Bay Crossing, didn’t I?” Harper said.

“Yes, of course,” Amber said. “That’s how you know him.”

“Nothing like the western slope,” Thunder said. “I love it here, don’t get me wrong. And I’ve seen some wonderful places during my travels, but I always knew when it came time to retire, I’d be back on the slope with the peaches and apple orchards and vineyards. I’m looking into winemaking now.”

Harper raised his eyebrows. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Gotta do something to keep busy,” Thunder said. “It drives me crazy to sit around doing nothing.”

“Me too,” Amber said. “I’m always finding something to do on my time off.”

“What do you do, pretty lady?”

“I’m a manicurist.”

“You don’t say? My mother was a manicurist. Small world.”

Not that small. Manicurists were a dime a dozen, but Amber didn’t say that. Instead, she found herself feeling closer to him, wondering if her interest in doing nails came from his mother.

She let out a huff of air and hoped neither of them noticed. She was grasping at straws. She’d decided to learn nails because the vocational high school offered it, and she’d have a skill with which to make a living. She didn’t have some huge dream to be a manicurist. She was good at it, true, but was it her life’s work? No.

If she could do whatever she wanted, she’d ride horses. That was what she loved.

And maybe
that
was from her father. She smiled.

“You look happy,” Harper said.

Happy? Meeting her real father, finding out her love of horses might have come from him? It sure hadn’t come from her mother. Karen wouldn’t know a horse from a cat. Yes, happy was a nice word. A glowing warmth caressed her skin. For a moment she’d forgotten about her ill-fated meeting with Blake Buchanan earlier.

Damn. Had to think about that
.

“I’m doing all right,” she said. She turned back to Thunder Morgan. “Tell me about your place on the slope.”

“It’s a ranch house on about a hundred acres. I don’t need a lot of space for just me and a couple horses and a couple dogs. I have neighbors who care for the animals while I’m away.”

“When do you plan to start making wine?”

“I have to find a vineyard first. There are a couple small ones for sale. I’m looking into it. I have a little nest egg. Bronc bustin’ paid the bills. It didn’t make me rich, that’s for sure, but I can afford a small operation.”

“What kind of wine do you want to make?”

“Red, definitely. I’m partial to Rhone blends. You know—syrah, grenache, mourvedre.”

Amber shook her head. “You’ll have to excuse me. I was telling Harper just yesterday ay that I know absolutely nothing about wine. I like the taste of most of it, though. Especially reds.”

“I have a great little Rhone blend we can try tonight with our steaks,” Harper said, rising. “I’ll get it. And Amber baby, you’ll get your steak blue tonight.”

“You like your steak blue?” Thunder smiled. “A girl who likes her meat still mooing is a girl after my own heart.”

“
I
can’t believe
you did that,” Amber said after Thunder left, “but I’m glad you did. He’s amazing.”

“And he’s your dad.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t have believed it, except for the eyes. I’m a dead ringer for Karen otherwise. But those eyes of his. It was like staring into my own.”

“So, baby, when are you going to tell him?”

“Tell him what? That he’s my dad?” She scoffed. “I think around the fifth of never.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I am. He’s got a life, Harper. A life that doesn’t include a twenty-two-year-old daughter he never knew he had. He’ll probably think I’m lying. I doubt he even remembers my mother.”

“You said so yourself. The eyes tell all.”

“Yes, but other than the eyes I don’t look a thing like him.”

“There’s DNA testing.”

“I couldn’t ask him to do that.”

“Why not? If he doesn’t believe you, that’s the one way to know for sure. For both of you.”

“He’s such a nice guy. I don’t want to screw up his life.”

“Who says you’ll screw it up? He never married. He’s retired now. He’s all alone. He might welcome the idea of family.”

Would he? Amber’s heart did a flip-flop. It was possible. She sure loved the idea herself. She hadn’t spoken to Karen in over six years. While she finished school, Laura had been her family. Laura’s mother hadn’t been around all that much, and once they’d both graduated, she very nicely told them to get the hell out. At Rachel’s the girls were her family, with Marta as a mother figure.

Marta
.

Some mother figure, drugging girls and exploiting them.

Blake Buchanan and those horrible Internet images catapulted into her mind. Her tummy—full of blue rib eye, tomato-and-mozzarella salad, loaded baked potato, and green beans—threatened to betray her.

Escape. She longed for escape. And there sat Harper, his dark eyes smoking, his hair tousled and sexy as usual, smiling with those full pink lips surrounding nearly perfect white teeth. One of his front teeth slightly overlapped the other. A tiny imperfection that made him even sexier. Her heart melted.

He’d done something so wonderful for her tonight. He’d found her father and brought him to her.

So a man wasn’t in her immediate future. At least that’s what she’d thought. Maybe she’d rethink her stance.

He wanted her. Even now, just sitting on the couch, electricity sizzled between them. His finger brushing her forearm sent tiny flames igniting over her whole body.

Her need was more than physical, though. She liked him. Liked how he treated her, liked his openness, his forthrightness, how he’d told her in no uncertain terms he wanted to take her to bed. It was a statement of pure honesty. Who couldn’t respect a man who valued honesty above all else?

She liked his family, liked his place, liked pretty much everything about him. Loved that he’d offered to bring her breakfast this morning.

Loved that he’d brought her father to her.

Loved.

She was falling for Harper Bay.

Damn it.

His arms would be paradise—a whimsical escape from Blake Buchanan and his threats.

How she longed for escape. Escape only Harper could give her.

His deep voice interrupted her racing thoughts. “Don’t you think?”

“Think what?”

“That Thunder might welcome the idea of family at this point in his life?”

His beautiful eyes, crinkling in the corners, ensnared her. “I suppose he might.”

She melted into his arms.

When their lips met, all doubts rinsed from her mind. Her body took over. She wanted to make love with Harper. She would not stop like she had last night.

He traced the outside of her lips with his soft probing tongue. A butterfly kiss. Laura had taught her about that back in high school, after Karen had kicked her out. She’d never experienced one until now.

The kiss warmed her, heated her, turned her into a blistering inferno. Had she not known better she’d have been convinced her skin was glowing red with passion. Harper replaced the tip of his tongue with his teeth, and he nibbled gently over her upper lip, her lower, and sucked the lower lip into his mouth.

Amber sighed. Goosebumps erupted over her flesh. How was it possible to feel so hot yet so cold at one time? A soft moan met her ears.

It took a moment to realize it had come from her own throat.

“I love kissing you, baby,” Harper whispered against her mouth. “You’re so soft and sweet, so responsive.” He parted the seam of her lips with his tongue and eased it inside.

If she’d had any shred of resistance left, his tongue erased it. She bathed herself in the kiss, let it consume her. Her tongue met his with passion so powerful she thought she might explode with desire and lust.

They ravaged each other’s mouths. Amber touched Harper’s cheek, and his stubble scraped against her fingers and palm. So masculine, so right. He was so handsome, beautifully sculpted, and she wanted him so much. Her heart beat against her sternum so hard and fast she felt sure he could feel it in his own chest.

And still they kissed. His hands wandered over her shoulders, her arms, until they found her breasts. Her nipples tightened and budded against the fabric of her bra. They ached for his mouth, his tongue.

“Please, Harper, make love to me.”

Had those words come from her mouth? Yes they had, and she meant them with all her soul.

“Oh, baby.” The deep timbre of his voice vibrated over her. “I want you so much.”

He rose and took her hand, led her upstairs to a large master bedroom. A four poster king-size bed draped in a mahogany comforter sat against one wall.

He turned to her, his eyes smoldering. “Are you sure this time?”

Her clit throbbed with each beat of her heart. “I’m sure, Harper. Take me to bed.”

He gently led her to the bed and eased her down upon the silky covers. “You’re so beautiful, Amber.”

Her skin warmed. His words touched her heart, her soul. She knew she was attractive. Those years at Rachel’s had proved that. But to hear it from Harper’s full lips that had already given her so much pleasure was nirvana.