“Oh, yes, we can.” Royce grasped the back of his neck. “My grandfather paid until he died. Then McQuestin paid. I took over a couple months ago.”
Though it went beyond the bounds of his contract, Alec felt an obligation to be honest. “What are you going to do when he ups his price?”
It was obvious from Royce’s expression that he hadn’t considered that possibility.
“You’ll eventually have to tell her, Royce.” Royce shook his head. “Not if we stop him.” “And how are you planning to accomplish that?” “I don’t know.” Royce paused. “Got any ideas?”
Two
Last night’s cookhouse burger hadn’t measured up to Royce’s talents, but it had filled Stephanie’s hunger gap. And at least she’d avoided one more screening of Stephanie Hits the Dirt Across America.
It was one thing to show that bloopers reel to friends and family, but to strangers? Business associates? She was busy trying to get Alec to take her seriously, and Royce was making her look like a klutz.
Nice guy her brother.
She opened the wooden gate to Rosie-Jo’s stall in the center section of the main horse barn and led the mare inside. The vet had given the horse a clean bill of health, and they’d had a great practice session this morning. Rosie had eagerly sailed over every jump.
Stephanie peeled off her leather gloves, removed Rosie’s bridle and unclipped the lead rope, reaching through the gate to coil it on the hook outside the stall. She selected a mud brush from the tack box and stroked it over Rosie’s withers and barrel, removing the lingering dirt and sweat from the mare’s dapple gray coat.
“How’d it go?” Wesley’s voice carried through the cavernous barn. His boot heels echoed as he crossed from Rockfire’s stall to Rosie-Jo’s. He tipped back his Stetson and rested his arms on the top rail of the gate.
“Good,” Stephanie answered, continuing the brush strokes.
Though she didn’t look up, a shimmer of anticipation tightened her stomach. The barn was mostly empty, the grooms outside with other horses and students. She hadn’t talked to Wesley since their aborted kiss two days ago. If he wanted to try again, this would be the opportunity.
“Hesitation’s gone,” she added. “You tacking up?”
Wesley nodded. “Rockfire’s ready to go. Tina has them changing up the jump pattern for us.”
Stephanie gave Rosie-Jo’s coat a final stroke. Normally she’d do a more thorough job, but she could always come back later. For now, she wanted to give Wesley another chance. Meet him halfway, as it were.
She replaced the brush, dusted her hands off on the back of her blue jeans and started across the stall to where he was leaning over the rail. Suddenly shy, she found she couldn’t meet his eyes. Was she being too blatant, too obvious? Should she make it a little harder for him to make his move?
It wasn’t like she was experienced at this. Ryder Ranch was a long way off the beaten track. She’d never had a serious romantic relationship, and it had been months—she didn’t want to count how many—since she’d even had a date.
She came to a stop, the slated gate a barrier between them. When she dared look at his face, his lips were parted. There was an anticipatory gleam in his blue eyes. And his head began to tilt to one side.
Should she lean in or let him take the lead?
“Am I interrupting anything?” It was Alec’s voice all over again, and his footfalls rapped along the corridor floor.
Wesley’s hands squeezed down on the gate rail, frustration replacing the anticipation in his eyes.
“Is this some kind of a joke?” he rasped for Stephanie’s ears only.
She didn’t know what to say. Alec seemed to have a knack for bad timing.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Wesley.
“Not as sorry as I am.”
She turned to face Alec. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so.” He stopped. After a silent beat, he glanced meaningfully at Wesley.
Wesley glared at him for a moment then smacked his hand down on the rail. “Time for practice,” he declared and turned on his heel to lead Rockfire from his stall.
As she watched the pair leave, disappointment clunked like a horseshoe to the bottom of Stephanie’s stomach.
“What is it now?” she hissed at Alec, popping the latch and exiting the stall. After securing it behind her, she set off after Wesley.
“Places to go?” asked Alec, falling into step.
“Things to do,” she responded, with a toss of her hair. She was going to watch Wesley’s practice session. It was part of her job as his coach. Plus, she’d be there when he finished. And by then, Alec should be long gone.
“I’m trying to help you, you know.” “I can tell.”
“Is your sex life more important than your company?”
Stephanie increased her pace, stomping forward, ignoring Alec’s question.
Sex life.
Ha! She couldn’t even get a kiss.
She passed through the open barn doorway, squinting into the bright sunshine, focusing on Wesley who was across the ranch road, mounting Rockfire.
Too late, she heard the roar of the pickup engine, then the sickening grind of tires sliding on gravel.
She had a fleeting glimpse of Amber’s horrified face at the wheel before a strong arm clamped around Stephanie’s waist and snatched her out of harm’s way.
Alec whirled them both, sheltering Stephanie against the barn wall, his body pressed protectively against hers as the truck slid sideways, fishtailing out of control, roaring past to miss them by inches.
“You okay?” his voice rasped through the billowing dust.
She told herself to nod, but her brain was slow in interpreting the signal.
“You okay?” he tried again, louder.
This time, Stephanie managed a nod.
“Stay here,” he commanded.
And suddenly, he was gone. Without Alec’s physical support, her knees nearly gave way. She grabbed at the wall, mustering her balance, blinking the blur from her eyes while the world moved in slow motion.
As she turned, she took in two ranch hands across the road. Their eyes were wide, mouths gaping. Wesley struggled to control Rockfire, turning the big horse in dust-cloud circles.
Stephanie followed the direction of the hands’ attention. A roar filled her ears as Amber’s blue truck keeled up on the left wheels.
Alec was rushing toward it Stephanie tried to scream. She tried to run. But her voice clogged down in her chest, and her legs felt like lead weights.
Then the truck overbalanced, crashing down on the driver’s door, spinning in a horrible, grinding circle until it smacked up against an oak tree.
The world zapped back to normal speed. Amongst the cacophony of shouts and motion, Alec skidded to a stop. He peered through the windshield for a split second, then he clambered his way up to the passenger door, high in the air.
He wrenched it open, and Stephanie’s body came back to life. She half ran, half staggered down the road, Amber’s name pulsing over and over through her brain.
Alec swiftly lowered himself into the truck.
Stephanie grew closer, praying Amber was all right.
Suddenly Alec’s sole cracked against the inside of the windshield, popping it out.
“Bring a truck,” he shouted, and two of the ranch hands took off running.
Stephanie made it to the scene to see blood dripping down Amber’s forehead. The realization that this was all her fault, made her stagger.
Alec met her eyes. “She’s okay,” he told her, his voice steady and reassuring. “Call Royce. But tell him she’s okay.”
Stephanie saw that Amber’s eyes were open.
She looked dazed, but when Alec spoke to her, Amber answered back.
His hands moved methodically over her body, arms, legs, neck and head.
But then Stephanie saw it.
“Smoke,” she tried to shout, but her dry throat wouldn’t cooperate.
Alec saw it, too.
People ran for fire extinguishers, while Alec fumbled with Amber’s seat belt.
While he worked, he spoke calmly and firmly.
Stephanie couldn’t hear the words, but Amber nodded and swallowed. She wrapped her arms around Alec’s neck, as the first flames snaked out from under the hood.
He spoke to Amber again, and she closed her eyes, burying her face against Alec’s neck. His arms tightened around her, and he slowly, gently eased her through the opening left by the windshield.
Stephanie held her breath, her glance going from the growing flames, to Amber and back again.
Wesley appeared by her side. “You okay?”
The question annoyed her. “I’m fine.” It was Amber who was in trouble. And Alec, who might get hurt or worse trying to save her.
The flame leaped higher.
Alec’s foot touched the ground outside the truck.
He gripped Amber close to his chest, rising to rush away.
“Get back!” he shouted to the growing crowd, just as the hood blew open, missing the tree trunk and cracking against the roof of the cab.
He staggered forward, but stayed upright and didn’t lose his grip on Amber.
Three hands arrived with fire extinguishers, aiming them at the engulfed truck.
Stephanie backed away from the heat. Remembering the cell phone in her hand, she quickly dialed Royce’s number.
Another pickup pulled up, and Alec lay Amber carefully across the bench seat.
“Don’t try to move,” he warned her.
“Hello?” Royce’s voice came into Stephanie’s phone.
“Royce?” Her voice shook.
“Stephanie?”
She didn’t know what to say.
Alec scooped the phone. “Alec here.” He took a breath. “There’s been an accident. Amber’s fine.” A pause. “No. No one else was in the truck.” He glanced at Stephanie, then down at Amber. “She’s conscious.”
He moved the phone away from his mouth. “Can you talk to Royce?”
Amber nodded, so Alec handed her the phone. Then he motioned to everyone else to back off. They obeyed, with the exception of Wesley who still hovered next to Stephanie.
When Amber put the phone to her ear and listened, tears welled up in her eyes. Stephanie instinctively moved in to comfort her, but Alec stopped her with his arm.
“Don’t touch her,” he whispered, keeping his arm braced around Stephanie’s waist.
He reached into his pocket, retrieving his own cell phone.
Stephanie looked at him with a question.
“Medical chopper,” he said in a low voice, turning away from Amber to speak to emergency services.
Stephanie’s attention immediately returned to Amber. Blood was still oozing from the cut on her forehead, and there was a wicked bruise forming on her right shoulder. Her blouse was torn, her knuckles scraped.
Was she really okay? Had Alec lied to Royce? And what did Alec know anyway? He wasn’t a doctor.
Okay, so he knew enough to pull Amber from a burning truck.
That was something.
That was huge.
While Stephanie, Stephanie had been stupid enough to march out in front of Amber and cause all this.
Her chest tightened with pain, and a sob escaped from her throat.
Alec turned back. His arm moved from her waist to her shoulders, and he gave her a squeeze. “It’s not your fault,” he rumbled in her ear.
But his words didn’t help.
“Listen to me, Stephanie.” He kept his voice low. “Amber is fine. The chopper will be here in fifteen minutes. But it’s just a precaution.”
“You’re not a doctor,” she snarled.
“No, I’m not.”
“I’m sorry.” Stephanie shook her head. “You pulled her out. She could have—”
“Stop.”
Amber let the cell phone drop to her chest. “Royce is on his way.” Her voice was weak, but just hearing it made Stephanie feel a little better.
“The medical chopper’s going to beat him here,” Alec told Amber, lifting the phone and gently smoothing her hair away from the wound.
“Want to bet?” Amber smiled, and Stephanie could have wept with joy.
Somebody had located a first aid kit, and Alec gently cleaned the blood from around Amber’s head wound and placed a square of gauze to stop the bleeding.
“Are you okay?” Stephanie dared to ask her.
“Did I hit you?” Amber asked back with a worried frown. “Are you hurt?”
Stephanie quickly shook her head. “No. No. Not at all. I’m perfectly fine. Just worried about you.”
“I’m a little stiff,” said Amber. She wiggled her fingers and moved her feet. “But everything’s still working.”
Stephanie mustered a watery smile.
Amber’s eyes cut away to focus over Stephanie’s shoulder. “I guess that’s it for the truck, though.”
“It was pretty spectacular,” Wesley put in.
Alec frowned at him. “A small fire can do a lot of damage.”
Amber looked back at Alec. “Thank you,” she told him in a shaky voice.
“I’m just glad you’re all right.” His smile was so gentle that something warm bloomed to life inside Stephanie.
Amber was going to be okay, and it was because of Alec.
Royce’s truck appeared over the rise, tires barely touching down between high spots on the dirt road. A cloud of dust rolled out behind him.
And then he was sliding to a stop at the scene. He burst out of the driver’s door, hitting the ground running as the thump, thump, thump of the chopper blades sounded in the sky.
Alec watched the towing company employees winch the wrecked pickup onto the flatbed truck. He’d talked to Jared in Chicago, and they agreed to have it removed as quickly as possible. Royce had called to report that Amber would be released from the hospital in a couple of hours. Alec was relieved to learn that Amber’s recovery would be short.
She had a few stitches in her forehead, but there were no worries of a concussion. Other than that, she’d only suffered scrapes and bruises. Royce was getting them a hotel room in Missoula, and they were coming home in the morning.
Steel clanked and cables groaned as the half-burned hulk inched its way up the ramps. Several of the ranch employees stood to watch. But it was nearing eight o’clock, and most had returned to their jobs or their homes once they heard the good news about Amber.
Stephanie appeared beside Alec, tucking her cell phone into her pocket and pushing her messy hair back from her forehead. “Amber’s making jokes.”
Alec was also relieved to see Stephanie getting back to normal. She hadn’t been injured, but she’d seemed almost in shock there for a few minutes.
“And how are you doing?” he asked.
“Just a little worn-out.” She stilled to gaze at the flatbed that was silhouetted by the final vestiges of a sunset.
“You sure?” he probed.
“I’m sure,” she confirmed, voice sounding stronger.
“Good for you.”
One of the towing operators was tying down the pickup, while the other started up the engine of the flatbed. Work here was done.
He turned, then waited for Amber to start back to the house with him. Lights had come on in the staff cottages. The scent of freshly cut hay hung in the cooling air. And the diesel truck rumbled away down the ranch road, toward the long hill that wound past the main ranch house to the highway.
“I was looking for a media file,” said Alec as the engine faded and the crickets took over.
“A what?”
“That’s why I came to find you earlier. Do you have documentation of your jumping career publicity?”
She looked confused.
“I’ll need the background information to calculate the dollar value of the exposure,” he elaborated.
“I don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand?”
“You can switch gears that fast?”
It was his turn to draw back in confusion.
“You just risked death to save Amber.”
“Risked death?” he chuckled, but then he realized she was serious.
“How did you know how to do that?” she asked.
“It’s not exactly rocket science.”
She peered at him through the dim glow of the yard lights. “Were you with the fire department or search and rescue?”
“No.”
“You pull a woman from a burning truck and carry her to safety only seconds before it explodes. How does that not rattle you?”
“That’s the Hollywood version.” He steered their course around the corner of the big barn, linking up with the path to her front porch. “I kicked out a windshield. I didn’t defuse a nuclear weapon.”
“You risked life and limb.”
“You know you tend to overdramatize, right?” He did what needed to be done, and only because he was the closest guy to the wreck.
And, quite frankly, it wasn’t fear of the fire and for Amber’s safety that had stuck with him. The worst moment had been that split second before he’d pulled Stephanie out of the way of the truck.
“You saved a woman’s life, and just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “You’re working on some mundane report.”
“Correction. I’m trying to work on a mundane report. Do you maybe have a list or something?”
They’d arrived at the house and mounted the steps, heading in through the door.
Stephanie kicked off her muddy boots, socks and all. “I have a few scrapbooks down at the main house.”
“Can we pick them up tomorrow?”
“Sure.” She pulled the elastic from her ponytail and ran her fingers through her messy hair. The action highlighted its auburn shimmer, while the pose showed off the compact curves of her body.
It was a struggle not to stare. So, he moved further into the house to where his work was spread out on the dining room table. He dropped into a padded chair, reminding himself of where he’d left off.
“Alec?” she called, coming around the corner.
“Yes?”
When she didn’t answer, he couldn’t help but turn to look.
She’d stripped off her cotton work shirt and now wore a thin, washed-out T-shirt and a pair of soft blue jeans that hugged her curves. The jeans rode low, revealing a strip of soft, pale skin above the waistband. Her bare feet struck him as incredibly sexy as she padded across the hardwood floor.
“What is it about your past life that led you to rush into a burning vehicle while everybody else stood there and stared in horror?”
“Let it go.”
She might look soft and sweet, but the woman had the tenacity of a pit bull.
“I’m curious,” she told him.
“And I have work to do.”
“It’s not a normal thing, you know.”
“It’s a perfectly normal thing. A dozen guys out there would have done the same.”
Stephanie shook her head.
Alec rolled his eyes and turned back to his spreadsheet.
“Let me guess,” she carried on. “You were in the marines.”
“No.”
“The army?”
“Go away.”
That surprised a laugh out of her. “It’s my house.”
“It’s my job.”
She pondered for a minute. “There’s an easy way to get rid of me.”
He slid a quizzical gaze her way.
“Answer the question.”
He wasn’t exactly sure what to say, but if it would get her out of the room and off his wayward mind, he was game to give it a try. “I was in the Boy Scouts.”
She frowned. “That’s not it.”
“Visited dangerous cities?”
A shake of her head.
“Had the occasional bar fight? Never started one,” he felt compelled to point out.
She braced her hands on the back of a chair and pinned him with a pointed stare.
“You’re not leaving,” he noted.
“That’s all you’ve got?” she demanded.
“What more do you want?”
“I don’t know. Something out of the ordinary. Something that taught you how to deal with danger.”
“I grew up on the south side of Chicago.”
“Seriously?”
“No, I’m making that part up.”
“Was it in a dangerous part of town?” she asked, leaning forward, looking intrigued.
Alec liked the way her pose tightened her T-shirt against her body.
“Relatively,” he told her. Crime had been high. Fights had been frequent. He’d learned how to read people and avoid situations, and how to handle himself when things went bad.
Her voice went low and intimate, as if somebody might overhear them. “Were you like a gang member? In rumbles and things?”
He reflexively leaned closer, lowering his own voice. “No gang. I was raised by a single father, a Chicago cop with very high standards of behavior.” Not that Alec had ever been tempted to join a gang. But his father most certainly would have stopped him cold.
“Your father’s a police officer?”
Alec sat back. “Not anymore. He’s owner and CEO of Creighton Waverley Security.”
“So, you work for him?”
Alec shook his head. Work for his old man? Not in this lifetime. “I do occasional contract work for his company.”
“Like this?”
“This is a private arrangement between me and Ryder International.”
“There’s an edge to your voice.”
“That’s because you’re still asking questions.”
“Are you mad at me or your father?”
“Do you ever stop?”
“Do you?”
“I’m paid to ask questions.”
“Yeah?” The smile she gave him sent a rush of desire to every pulse point in his body. “I do it recreationally.”
They stared at each other in thickening silence, and he could hear the alarm bells warming up deep in the base of his brain. Both Royce and Jared were protective of their sister, and they would not take kindly to Alec making a pass at her.
Not that Alec would ever make a pass at a client.
He never had.
Of course, he’d never wanted to before, either.
So, maybe it wasn’t his high ethical standards that kept him on the straight and narrow. Maybe he’d simply never been presented with a client who had creamy skin, deep, cherry lips, perfectly rounded breasts and the wink of a navel that made him want to wrap his arms around her waist, drag her forward and press wet kisses against her stomach until she moaned in surrender.
A sudden rap on the door jolted him back to reality.
It couldn’t be Royce. He was still at the hospital. And Jared was in Chicago.
Stephanie hesitated but then turned from Alec and moved into the alcove off the living room to open the front door.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Wesley’s eager voice carried clearly across the room. Of course.
The soon-to-be boyfriend. Wasn’t that a nice dose of reality.
Three
Brushing her teeth in the en suite bathroom, Stephanie couldn’t help but replay Alec’s rescue over and over in her mind.
In the moments after the crash, she’d been preoccupied with Amber’s safety. And then the helicopter arrived, and the tow truck, and the staff were all anxious and needing to talk. And later she’d been preoccupied with Alec.
But now she knew that Amber was safe. She was alone with her thoughts, and she found herself focusing on those seconds in Alec’s arms.
He was surprisingly strong, amazingly fast and obviously agile. His strength had given her a sense of security. Then later, while they’d argued, she’d felt a flare of something that was a whole lot more than security.
She couldn’t exactly put a name to it. But it was strong enough, that when Wesley had showed up, he’d seemed bland by comparison.
She spat the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed her mouth. As she replaced the toothbrush in the charger, she paused, gazing at herself in the mirror.
Attraction, she admitted, glancing at the door that led from the opposite side of the bathroom into the guest room where Alec was sleeping.
She was attracted to him.
She wanted it to be Wesley, but it was Alec.
She gritted her clean teeth, dragged a comb through her curls, braided them tight and snagged an elastic before heading back into her bedroom.
The window was wide, a cool breeze sliding down from the craggy peaks, while the horses blew and snorted in the fields below. Thoughts still on Alec, roving further into forbidden territory, she dropped her robe onto a chair and climbed between the crisp sheets. Her laundry was still behind, and she was prickly warm, so she’d gone with panties and an old tank top, soft as butter against her skin.