In Bed With The Wrangler

“No,” Royce boomed at her. “You can’t.”

Stephanie giggled. “Good grief, you’re an easy mark. There’s nobody around here for me to sleep with anyway.”

Some of the fight went out of Royce’s posture, but his hand still gripped his phone.

Amber rubbed the tense hand. “Let it go.”

“It’s a firing offence.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“At least give it some thought first.” Barry had been a jerk, but she didn’t want anyone getting fired on her account. “Maybe ask around. See if this was an isolated incident.”

“He was rude to me this morning,” said Stephanie.

“You’re not helping,” Amber warned.

Royce folded his arms across his chest. “It was my decision to call him directly. He doesn’t get to second-guess me.”

“Did you explain the circumstances?”

“I don’t have to.”

“So, he made an assumption. You can’t fire a man for making an assumption.”

He pasted her with a sharp look. “You like being spoken to that way.”

“Of course not.” But she’d like being Royce’s lover. Heaven help her, she was pretty sure she’d like being Royce’s lover.

Their gazes locked and held for a long moment, and she could have sworn he was reading her mind.

“The lasagna’s getting cold,” Stephanie pointed out conversationally.

Royce ended the moment with a sharp nod. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Sure,” Amber agreed, wondering if they were going to talk about Barry or about the energy that crackled between them like lightning.

Five

In Royce’s mind, the issue was far from settled.

The storm had passed, leaving a bright moon behind. He closed the office door behind him for privacy, leaving Amber and Stephanie chatting out on the veranda, puppies scampering around them. He, on the other hand, flipped on the bright overhead light and crossed to the leather desk chair, snagging the desk phone and punching in Barry’s home number.

It was nearly midnight in Chicago, but he didn’t give a damn. Let the man wake up.

“Hello?” came a groggy, masculine voice.

“Barry?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Royce Ryder.”

“Yes?” A shot of energy snapped into Barry’s voice. “Anything wrong, Royce?”

There was plenty wrong. “Were you able to give Amber the information she needed?”

A pause. “I believe I did. Sally can cover anything else in the morning.”

Royce waited a beat. “When I called you earlier, it wasn’t because I wanted her to talk to Sally in the morning.” Full stop. More silence.

“Oh. Well…I assumed-”

“Did you or did you not answer Amber’s questions?” Royce repeated. And he could almost hear the wheels spinning inside Barry’s head.

“I don’t think you did,” Royce said into the silence. “And the reason I don’t think you did is because I was sitting right next to her during the call, and she didn’t get a chance to ask you any questions.” Once again, he stopped, giving Barry an opportunity to either contribute or sweat.

Hesitation was evident in the man’s voice. “Did she…Mmm. Is she there?”

“No. She’s not here. It’s eleven o’clock. The woman’s not working at eleven o’clock.”

Silence.

“Here’s my suggestion,” said Royce. “To solve the problem. You hop on a plane in the morning. The corporate jet is unavailable, so you’ll have to fly commercial. I’m thinking coach.” He picked up an unopened envelope from the desktop and tapped it against the polished oak surface, dropping all pretence of geniality. “You get your ass to the ranch, and you apologize to Ms. Hutton. Then you answer any and all of her questions.”

“I…But…Did you say Hutton?”

“David Hutton’s daughter. But that couldn’t matter less.”

“Royce. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize-”

“Apologize to her.”

“Of course.”

“You’ll be here tomorrow?”

“As soon as I can get there.”

Satisfied, Royce disconnected. Amber only needed to be sure funds would be available in the account. But that wasn’t the point anymore.

He gazed at the envelope in his hand. It was windowed. From North Pass Feed. Typical bill.

Curious after Amber’s concern about his credit rating, he slit it open. Then he glanced through the other piles she’d made, arming himself with some basic information on the ranch expenses.

Half an hour later, he thought he had a picture of the accounts payable situation, so he headed back down the hallway to find Amber and Stephanie in the front foyer.

Stephanie was on her way out the door, and she gave him a quick kiss and a wave before piling into a pickup truck to head for home. As he closed the door behind her, the empty house seemed to hold its breath with anticipation.

Amber looked about as twitchy as he felt.

“You want to talk about Barry?” she asked, moving from the foyer into the great room.

“Taken care of,” he answered, following a few paces behind her, letting his gaze trickle from her shoulders to her narrow waist, to her sexy rear end and the shapely thighs that were emphasized by her snug-fitting blue jeans.

She twisted her head. “What do you mean?”

“He’ll be here in the morning.”

She turned fully then. “I don’t understand.”

“He’s coming by to apologize. And to answer your questions in person.”

Her eyes widened in shock, red lips coming open in a way that was past sexy. “You didn’t.”

“He insisted.”

“He did not.”

Royce moved closer. “I suspect he understood the stakes.”

She tipped her chin. “I don’t need somebody to travel a thousand miles to offer me an insincere apology.”

“But I do.”

She didn’t appear to have a comeback for that, and it was all he could do not to lean in for a kiss. She looked as if she wanted one. Her lips were full, eyes wide, body tipped slightly forward. If this was any other woman, at any other time…

But she’d made her position clear.

And he’d respect that.

Unless and until she told him otherwise.

Midday sun streaming through the ranch office window, Amber clicked through the headlines of a national news