Читать книгу The Ryders: Jared, Royce and Stephanie: Seduction and the CEO - Barbara Dunlop - Страница 13

It wasn’t often Jared saw his little sister dressed to accentuate her femininity. Not that he ever forgot she was feminine, but she’d run around the ranch yard like a tomboy ever since he could remember. So tonight when she waltzed into the great room in an ultra-flirty dress, he was momentarily stunned. It was white on top, with bows at the shoulders and a full black skirt that billowed around her knees. She’d done something with her hair, too. And her face looked—

Melissa appeared from behind Stephanie, and the jolt took his breath away. Where Stephanie was feminine, Melissa was sultry. She wore a shimmering thin silk sheath of a dress that clung to her figure like a second skin. Spaghetti straps adorned her smooth shoulders, while the gold and peach shimmered under the warm light. Her hair was upswept, her face flawless, and her long, tanned legs and spiked heels were going to invade his dreams for at least the next year.

He swallowed.

“Is Royce here yet?” asked Stephanie.

When Jared finally dragged his gaze from Melissa, he saw the twinkle in Stephanie’s eyes. He had to hand it to his sister, she knew how to matchmake. Nothing would happen between him and Melissa, but it sure wouldn’t be from a lack of desire. Given his own way, he’d drag her off to his bed right now.

“Sunset Hill flooded out,” he answered. He’d talked to Royce a few minutes ago, and his brother had decided to wait the storm out at the main house with McQuestin.

Fine with Jared.

He didn’t particularly want Royce laying eyes on Melissa, anyway.

Stephanie’s lips pursed in a pout. “Why doesn’t he ride up?”

“Probably because he’d be soaked to the ass in the first half mile.” Jared gave a quick glance at Melissa to see if his coarse language had offended her.

Her little grin was the last thing he saw before the room went black.

Forks of lightning streaked through the thick sky, while thunder cracked and raindrops smashed against the roof and the wooden deck outside.

“Uh-oh,” came Stephanie’s disembodied voice.

“What happened?” asked Melissa.

“Could have been anything,” Jared answered as he made his way toward the mantelpiece. He found a box of matches by feel, struck one and lit a couple of candles. Power outages were common in ranch country, doubly so during storms.

Stephanie crossed to the front window. “I don’t see the cookhouse,” she said.

“Give it a minute,” Jared suggested, flipping open his cell phone. He punched in Royce’s number.

Melissa joined Stephanie at the window, and Jared let himself enjoy the view of her back.

“Why would you see the cookhouse?” asked Melissa.

“They have an emergency generator,” said Stephanie.

“Hey, bro,” came Royce’s voice on the phone.

“Lights out down there?” asked Jared.

“Just now.”

“Us, too. Any problems?”

“The boys aren’t back from the canyon yet,” said Royce.

“McQuestin worried?”

“Won’t be for a couple more hours.”

“Keep me posted?”

Melissa turned, and Jared quickly averted his lecherous gaze.

“Sure,” said Royce.

Flickering lights came on in the distance.

“Cookhouse is up,” said Jared, and Melissa turned back to the window.

“We’re striking up the gas barbecue,” said Royce.

“Don’t let McQuestin talk you into poker.”

Royce laughed as he signed off.

Stephanie had moved into the dining room. She was on her own cell phone, checking to make sure the employees were all accounted for.

Jared tucked his phone in his pocket.

“What now?” asked Melissa.

He checked to make sure Stephanie was out of earshot as he moved toward Melissa and the window. He kept his voice low. “Now I tell you you’re gorgeous.”

“Stephanie’s idea.”

“My sister’s not stupid.”

“Your sister is Machiavellian.”

He moved his hand forward and brushed Melissa’s fingertips. “Seems a shame to let her down.”

“Seems a shame to lead her on.”

“Hey, she’s the one playing us, remember?”

“Mrs. Belmont left lasagna in the oven,” came Stephanie’s voice.

Jared reflexively backed off.

“Salad’s in the fridge,” Stephanie finished.

“I guess we’re dining by candlelight,” said Melissa.

“Romantic,” Stephanie put in, scooping one of the lighted candles and heading for the dining room.

Melissa followed.

Jared allowed himself a lingering glance at Melissa as she walked away. “Better than poker with McQuestin,” he said out loud.

They settled at one end of the big table, Jared at the head, flanked by the two women. Lasagna, salad, rolls and a bottle of merlot were spread out in front of them. He’d lit a candelabra for the middle of the table, and kerosene lamps flickered against the rain-streaked windows.

Melissa’s soft blond hair shimmered in the yellow light. Her lips were dark. Her eyes sparkled. And the silk shifted softly against her body as she moved her hands.

“Do you have political aspirations?” she asked him.

The question took him by surprise. “Why the heck would you think that?”

“You’ve got it all,” she responded, taking another sip of the merlot, which he couldn’t help but note was exactly the same shade as her lips. “Money, success, community standing, charitable work, and now you’re palling around with the mayor of Chicago.”

“How did you know about the mayor?”

She concentrated on setting down her glass. “One of the cowboys mentioned something about your building and the city.”

Jared turned to glare at Stephanie. “How does anybody get any work done around here?” he demanded. “Melissa’s been here three days, and she knows everything but my birth weight and shoe size.”

“Don’t be such a bear,” said Stephanie.

“You’re exaggerating,” said Melissa.

“Not by much.”

“Eight pounds nine ounces,” Stephanie put in with a giggle.

“Ouch,” said Melissa.

“Don’t let that put you off,” Stephanie came back. “It’s not necessarily hereditary.”

Both Jared and Melissa stared at her, dumbfounded.

“What?” Stephanie glanced back and forth between them. “You guys don’t want kids?”

“Several,” said Jared, deciding his sister deserved everything she got from here on in.

He took Melissa’s hand and raised it to his lips. “How does four sound to you?”

“Are you going to hire me a nanny?” she asked, surprising him by playing along.

“You bet. A nanny, a chauffeur and a housekeeper.”

“Okay, then.” Melissa gave a nod. “Four it is. But we’d better get started—I’m not getting any younger.” She reached for her wineglass. “Better enjoy this while I can. Once I’m pregnant, it’s off the alcohol. And this wine is fantastic.”

“I know you’re messing with me,” Stephanie put in. “But I don’t care. I have hope, anyway.”

“We have a very good wine cellar,” said Jared. “It was a hobby of Gramps.”

“Why don’t you show it to Melissa?” Stephanie quickly suggested.

“You hoping I’ll get her pregnant on the tasting table?”

Melissa sputtered and coughed over a drink.

He squeezed her hand by way of apology.

“I think Stephanie’s overestimating the power of this dress,” she wheezed.

Jared hesitated. Then he stepped into the breach. “No, she’s not.”

Stephanie clapped her hands together in triumph.

It was ten o’clock when Stephanie succeeded in getting Jared and Melissa alone together. They were in the truck, and Melissa peered in pitch-darkness and driving rain as they rounded the bend to the row of cottages by the river, the headlights bouncing off the oak trees and the dark porches.

She had to admit, she wouldn’t have wanted to walk all the way back. And she wouldn’t have asked Stephanie to slog through the mud to get to the truck. And that left Jared.

Then he had insisted on carrying her from the ranch house porch to the truck—which was an experience all on its own.

Now they pulled up to the front of her cottage and he killed the lights and turned off the engine.

“Stay put,” he told her as he opened the driver’s door and a puff of cool wind burst in. “I’ll be right around.”

Part of her wanted to insist on walking, but her shoes were impractical, the mud was slick, and she knew the black road would be a patchwork of deep puddles. So she waited, her heart rate increasing, her skin prickling in anticipation and her brain fumbling through sexy projections of being in Jared’s arms again.

Her door swung open, and she shifted from the seat into his arms, wrapping her own arms around his neck. She’d put a windbreaker over the dress, but her legs were still bare and his strong hand clasped around the back of her thigh.

“Ready?” he asked, husky voice puffing against her cheek.

“Ready,” she confirmed with a nod, and he pulled her against his chest, his body protecting her from the worst of the rain. He kicked the truck door shut and strode over the mud and up the porch stairs, stopping under the tiny roof in front of the door.

He didn’t bother putting her down. Instead, he swung the door open and carried her into the warm cottage.

It was completely dark, not a single frame of reference.

He slowly lowered her to the floor. “Don’t move.”

“Do you have matches?” she asked as he stepped away from her.

“There’ll be some on the mantel.” Something banged, and he cursed.

“You okay?” she called.

“I’m fine.”

Then she heard a crackle, and a small flame appeared across the living room. She could just make out Jared’s face as he lit three candles on the stone mantel. There was a mirror on the wall behind, and the light reflected back into the room.

“Thanks,” she told him.

He shook out the match and tossed it into the fireplace. “You want a fire?”

“It’s not that cold.” She hung the damp windbreaker on a wall hook. Then she wiped her face, pulled the clip from her hair and finger-combed out the rainwater.

It was late enough that she planned to snuggle into bed with her laptop and record notes from the evening. Stephanie had predicted the power would be back on by morning. If not, the staff would gather at the cookhouse for breakfast, and they’d set priorities for animal care.

Jared crumpled up a newspaper, threw it into the fireplace and added a handful of kindling. “It’s not that warm, either.” He crouched down and struck another match, lighting a corner of the newspaper.

The orange flame quickly grew, reflecting off the planes and angles of his face. There was something about the actions that warmed Melissa’s heart. He hadn’t exactly saved her life, but he’d shown a tender, caring side that surprised her.

She automatically moved closer to the fire. “I wish I could offer you coffee or something.”

He rose to his feet in the flickering light. His short hair was damp, and his cotton shirt was plastered to his chest. Power and masculinity seemed to ooze from every pore.

He eased closer, and she was instantly awash in desire.

“Coffee’s not what I want.”

She was dying to ask, but she didn’t dare. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, warning herself that the slightest encouragement was going to bring his lips crashing down on hers, and they’d be trapped all over again in the tangle of desire.

His lips came down on hers, anyway.

And she might have stretched up slightly to meet him.

Okay, she’d definitely stretched up. And she’d tilted her head to accommodate him. And now she was opening her mouth, meeting his tongue, snaking her arms around his neck and pressing her body tightly against his own.

His clothes were damp, but she didn’t care. His hands were roaming, and she loved it. His mouth was sure and strong, but still tender, and oh, so hot.

Passion quickly obliterated reason. She clung tightly as his nimble hands pulled down the zipper of her dress. He eased it over her head and discarded it on a chair. He worked at the buttons of his shirt, alternating between kissing her and staring deeply into her eyes. His were nearly black with passion, while desire pulsed through every fiber of her body.

Her hands went to his jeans, popping the button, sliding the zipper.

He groaned, tossed his shirt and pulled her back into his arms. His kisses roamed her cheeks, her neck and down to where he pushed her bra out of the way. His hot mouth surrounded a nipple, and she threw her head back, her hands grasping his shoulders for support.

He wrapped a strong arm firmly around the small of her back, holding her steady, his mouth sending sparks of desire from her breasts to the base of her belly. He released her bra, dropping it to the floor. Then he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the small bedroom.

The sheets were cool against her bare back. She could barely make out his outline as he discarded the remainder of his clothes. Then his warm, hard, musk-scented body was sliding next to her, and she was enveloped in kisses and caresses that seared heat over every inch of her skin.

She kissed his chest, tasting his salty skin, her hands roaming down his back, over his buttocks, along his strong thighs.

He groaned his approval, kissing her deeply. “You are gorgeous,” he breathed. He kissed her again. His fingers found their way into her flimsy panties.

She gasped at his touch, flexing her hips, transmitting an unmistakable invitation.

He peeled off her panties, produced a condom from somewhere, and covered her body with his own. Their bodies were flush together, tight at the apex, and her legs were wrapped around his waist.

He kissed her deeply, sliding his hands to her bottom, adjusting the angle of their bodies as he eased inside. Driving rain splattered against the bedroom window. Lightning chased across the sky while thunder vibrated the cottage walls.

Then the world around Melissa disappeared. Nothing existed beyond Jared, and every sensation was magnified a thousand times, his touch, his scent, the taste of his skin, the sound of his voice as he recited her name, calling her beautiful, urging her on.

Their tempo increased. The hot and cold and electric sensations heightening to unbearable. As thunder crashed around them, her body stiffened. Her toes curled. Her hoarse voice cried out Jared’s name as she tumbled from the pinnacle down into the exquisite arms of release.

As she floated to earth, Jared tucked a quilt around them. He turned slightly to the side, keeping them locked together, but taking his weight from her body.

Their deep breaths rose in unison, both of them sucking the moisture-laden oxygen from the dark room, recovering, reframing, realizing the magnitude of what they’d just done.

“I’m not sure that was such a good idea,” she ventured on a gasp.

He didn’t let her go. Didn’t back off a single inch. “Because you work for me?” he mumbled against her neck.

Because I’m writing an article on you. Because you don’t know who I am. Because I lied to you. The reasons were endless, and she couldn’t admit to any of them.

“At least for tonight,” she ventured, instead, “do you think we could be clear that I work for Stephanie?”

Jared’s chuckle rumbled through his frame. “So what’s the problem?”

“I’m leaving in a few days.”

He smoothed her hair from her forehead. “Just because something’s short, doesn’t mean it can’t be fantastic.”

“I suppose.” If you took away her deception, a one-night stand certainly wasn’t the end of the world. But eventually he was going to find out her true identity.

She couldn’t do anything to change the past hour, but she did need to control herself going forward. Not that she’d ever divulge any intimate details. Every single thing that happened in the cottage tonight was off the record.

But she did need to back off. She couldn’t let their circumstances get even more complicated.

She eased away from his warmth. “Stephanie’s probably counting the minutes you’ve been down here.”

“Are you asking me to leave?”

“I think that would be best.”

He stilled, and she assumed he was staring at her in the dark.

A lightning bolt lit up the room, and his stark expression of disappointment tugged at her heart.

“I think it would be best,” she repeated, wanting nothing more than to burrow down under the covers and sleep in Jared’s warm arms for the rest of the night. But she had to be strong.

He rolled from the bed. “Of course.” There was a tightness to his voice that bordered on anger.

She closed her ears to it and clung to the passion they’d shared.

His jeans rustled. Then he padded into the living room.

She held her breath while he dressed. Would he come back? Say something more? Kiss her goodbye?

Suddenly his silhouette appeared in the doorway. “Good night,” he offered without coming back inside.

“Good night,” she echoed, struggling to keep the hollowness from her voice. She’d asked him to leave. She was silly to feel hurt.

He waited a moment more, then turned away, heading out into the storm.

The truck engine rumbled to life. The headlights flared up. Then the big treaded tires churned their way over the muddy road.

Melissa dragged herself from the bed. She wrapped a robe around her body, retrieved her laptop, powered it up and forced her thoughts back to the discussion at dinner. The fling with Jared might be over, but she still had her job to save.

“Seth Strickland,” came the terse answer at the other end of the phone.

It was morning. The rain had stopped, and the lights were back on as Stephanie had predicted. Melissa was dressed in blue jeans and a simple tank top again, trying to push the insanity that had become her life back into perspective.

“Seth?” she said into the phone, thanking her lucky stars that he was in the office on a Saturday. “It’s Melissa.”

“Where the hell have you been?” he shouted without preamble.

She wasn’t ready to answer that question yet. “If I could guarantee the Jared Ryder story, can you buy me a little time?”

“No! And what the hell are you talking about? Why didn’t you call me back yesterday?”

“I’m in Montana.”

“You said you were working from home.”

“I’m at the Ryder Ranch. Right now. I had dinner with Jared Ryder last night.”

Seth went silent.

“I need a few more days, Seth.”

“You had dinner with Ryder?”

“And his sister. And his brother’s just arrived.”

“How the hell did you—”

“They think I’m a stable hand.”

“You’re undercover?” There was a note of respect in Seth’s voice. “It’s an exposé?”

“Yes, I’m undercover.”

“What’ve you got?”

“A bunch of stuff. His family. His childhood. Their charitable foundation.”

“Ryder has a charitable foundation?”

“Yes. But I need a few more days. Can you give it to me?”

“You’re in a position to guarantee the story?”

“Yes.”

There was a long silence. “If I go to Everett and you don’t deliver, you know both our asses will be out the door.”

“I understand.”

“And you can still make the guarantee?”

“I can.” She didn’t have enough on the construction business yet. But she’d let Stephanie matchmake some more, and she’d find a way to meet Royce. She’d get what Seth needed or die trying.

“I have to have it Wednesday. Five o’clock. And the copy better be bloody clean. We’re not going to have time for much editing.”

“Five o’clock Wednesday,” Melissa confirmed.

“And, Melissa?” Seth’s voice was gruff.

“Yes?”

“Lie to me again, and you’re fired.”

“Yes, sir.”

Seth hung up the phone, and she realized she was shaking. The stakes couldn’t be higher, and she barely had four days to pull it off.

“Have a good time with Melissa last night?” Stephanie asked as Royce’s pickup appeared in the distance on the ranch road.

“It was fine,” Jared answered, keeping his voice neutral. He fully expected Melissa to make herself scarce for the rest of the week.

He wasn’t sure what had gone wrong at the end of the evening, but he’d obviously made some kind of misstep. A woman didn’t go from crying out a man’s name to kicking him out of her bed in the space of two minutes if the guy hadn’t screwed up somehow.

He started down the stairs to meet Royce at the driveway.

“You going to see her again?” asked Stephanie, keeping pace.

“I expect I will. Since she’s living here.” Odds were that he’d run into her eventually.

“That’s not what I meant. Are you going to ask her out? I noticed you stayed down there for a while.”

“I bet you did.”

The sound of the truck’s engine grew louder. Mud sprayed out from the tires as Royce took a corner far too fast.

“Did you sleep with her?” asked Stephanie.

Jared shot his sister a glare of irritation. “What is the matter with you?”

She shrugged. “You were only gone an hour. Not a lot of time, but then maybe you weren’t very—”

“Young lady, you shut your mouth before you get yourself into a world of trouble. Where did you learn to talk like that, anyway?” Maybe he’d stayed away too long. Maybe leaving Stephanie here on her own was a mistake. Or maybe Gramps’s death had affected her more than Jared and Royce had realized.

“I’m just asking a question.”

“You’re out of line, little sister.”

Stephanie pursed her lips in a pout. “So are you going to ask her out again?”

Jared frowned.

“That can’t be out of line. I’m not asking about sex.”

The truck skidded to a halt, and Jared walked forward. “Let’s just get through the weekend, all right?”

“I know I have to get through the weekend,” Stephanie muttered as they walked down the front pathway. “I was only hoping for something to look forward to at the end of it.”

Jared felt a pang of guilt. The whole reason he’d started the charade with Melissa was to keep Stephanie’s mind occupied. Sure, it had run way off the rails last night. But that wasn’t Stephanie’s fault.

He slung an arm around his sister’s shoulders, moderating his voice. “Fine. I’ll ask her out again. But I can’t guarantee she’ll say yes.”

Stephanie turned in to give him a tight squeeze. “I know she’ll say yes. I saw the way she looked at you.”

The words caused a sudden tightening in Jared’s chest. How she’d looked at him? What did that mean? He wanted to probe for more information. But Royce appeared across the hood of the truck, and Stephanie broke free to hug her other brother.

“Baby sister!” cried Royce, dragging Stephanie into his arms, lifting her off the ground and twirling her around.

Jared caught a glimpse of Melissa across the yard, and their gazes met. She was shoveling manure again, and for some reason, that made him angry. She was capable of so much more. She was intelligent, full of insightful opinions and thought-provoking questions.

It occurred to him that he could offer her a job in Chicago. She could work for Ryder International or even the Genevieve Fund. There had to be any number of things a woman with her intellect and curiosity could handle.

In a split second he realized what he was doing. He was working out ways to keep her close, ways that he could see her again, maybe sleep with her again. Though, judging by the expression on her face, the latter was unlikely. But what did it say about him? Was he buying into Stephanie’s fantasy?

He could almost feel a debate going on inside Melissa’s brain. She’d seen him, and she knew he knew. Did she duck her head and go back to work? Did she avoid him, or get the first, awkward moment over with?

While he waited, she squared her shoulders, leaned the manure fork against the fence and determinedly marched toward him. Good for her. He couldn’t help a surge of admiration, and he moved to meet her in the driveway.

“Melissa!” Stephanie’s voice surprised him. “Come and meet Royce.” Hand in Royce’s, Stephanie tugged him to intersect Melissa’s pathway. The four of them met up off the hood of the truck.

“Royce, this is Melissa,” said Stephanie. “She’s dating Jared.”

Melissa’s eyes widened slightly, but she held her composure.

Royce turned to stare at Jared.

Jared gave his brother an almost imperceptible shake, and Royce immediately held out his hand to Melissa. “Great to meet you. I’m the black sheep of the family.”

Stephanie laughed, while Melissa accepted Royce’s handshake. “Melissa Webster. I’m the black sheep in mine.”

“She has five older brothers,” Stephanie put in.

“Worse off than you,” Royce teased, arching a brow at his sister.

“I’d better get back to work,” said Melissa. Her gaze darted to Jared just long enough to let him know she wished they’d been able to talk. Well, so did he. He felt like he owed her an apology of some kind. At the very least, he wanted to make sure things were okay between them.

“Can you come and help me with Rosie-Jo?” Stephanie asked Melissa.

Since Rosie-Jo had half a dozen grooms, Jared recognized the ruse for what it was. Stephanie wanted to pump Melissa for information. But from what he’d seen of Melissa so far, she’d be up to the task of sidestepping anything too personal.

“Dating?” Royce asked as the two women walked away.

“More like flirting,” said Jared. “But I didn’t have the heart to disillusion Stephanie this weekend.”

“Are you going to disillusion poor Melissa?”

Jared shook his head. “She knows the score. She’s leaving in a few days, anyway.”

Royce reached into the back of the pickup truck and retrieved his duffel bag. “How’s Stephanie holding up?”

“Too cheerful,” said Jared. “You just know she’s going to crack.”

“Maybe going up to the cemetery isn’t such a good idea this year. Gramps’s grave is awfully fresh.”