Читать книгу Falling For Fortune - Allison Leigh, Nancy Robards Thompson - Страница 12
ОглавлениеPlay along?
The moment Amber wrapped her arms around Jensen’s neck and pressed her lips to his, it was easy to fall into the little scheme she’d concocted. His mouth was much too busy to speak, so he couldn’t possibly blurt out that his sister had gone into labor. Nor could he tip off the reporter that Quinn had taken her to the hospital just a couple of hours ago, leaving Jensen the only one home on the ranch.
In fact, as Amber’s peaches-and-cream scent enveloped him, as her lips parted and he tasted—brown sugar and...spice?—she leaned into him. He couldn’t help but draw her close and caress the curve of her waist, the slope of her hips.
Who would have guessed such a feminine creature hid beneath all that denim and flannel?
And who would have known that the pretty cowgirl could kiss like this?
When the camera flashed behind them—not once, but a second time—Jensen came to his senses, ending the little sideshow they’d put on for the paparazzi. Amber may have saved his sister from being headline news, but she’d inadvertently given the tabloids another gossip-worthy story to publish. But he’d have to deal with that fallout later.
In the meantime, he took her by the hand and pulled her into the house—and out of the camera’s view. Then he quickly shut the door behind them and turned to face her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but I spotted a couple of men outside who had to be reporters. And I was afraid you were going to say something about Amelia being in labor, and I figured you wouldn’t want them to hear that. So I did the only thing I could think of to shut you up.”
She was quite flushed—not just her cheeks, which would explain a bit of embarrassment, but her throat and neck, too.
Had that kiss aroused more than gallantry on her part? It would seem so, and he couldn’t help but smile.
“What’s so funny?” she asked. “You were saying that Amelia was in something or other. And I jumped to the conclusion that she might be in labor.”
“You’re right. That’s what I was going to say. And no, I didn’t want the reporters to hear.”
Amber brightened. “So Amelia really is in labor?”
“Yes, since early this morning. Quinn took her to the hospital in Lubbock right before dawn.”
“So what are you doing? Waiting for a phone call?”
“That’s exactly what I was doing. She wasn’t due until the first of next month, although her obstetrician didn’t seem overly concerned. Still, I can’t help worrying about it, though.”
“I can understand that.”
“She was under a great deal of stress early on, and those reporters made her life miserable. I can’t help thinking that might have brought on early labor.
“But now they’re outside again, ready to steal her joy and happiness again. They probably plan to camp out at the ranch until the baby’s birth. Fortunately, she and Quinn managed to slip away while it was still dark, but now I’m undoubtedly stuck. I’m not sure how I’ll go about leaving without them following me.”
“Do you have the keys to that ranch pickup that’s parked behind the barn?”
“Yes, the key should be hanging on the hook near the back door.”
“Then maybe I can help. The reason I came was to bring that filly Quinn asked me to deliver. Why don’t I go outside and make a big show of getting her out of the trailer? I can saddle her and do a little trick riding in the corral that’s on the other side of the house. If the reporters are watching me, maybe you can slip out the back without them noticing you.”
“How very Annie Oakley of you.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“On the contrary. I actually think it’s quite a clever plan that just might work. And I do hope it does. Otherwise, I’ll have to wait here and try to sneak out under the cloak of darkness.”
“How very Sherlock Holmes of you.”
He laughed. “What a team we make.”
Now it was her turn to chuckle. “That’s true. But just wait and see. We’ll git ’er done, ol’ chap.”
“Apparently, we will. And those reporters won’t know we’ve been having a go at their expense. Thanks for being my partner in crime.”
“Anytime. That’s the cowboy way.” She glanced down at her scuffed boots, then back at him. “Hey. About that kiss...”
“Don’t give it another thought, Amber.”
She smiled, and the concern that had once troubled her brow eased. “Okay, then I won’t.”
He was glad that she seemed to shake it off as though it had never happened—the kiss and the reporters who’d recorded it all.
Unfortunately, he’d be thinking about it for the both of them—and not just the camera flash and the rippling effects of what that might mean. Because the memory of her taste, the feel of her in his arms, the flush on her cheeks and throat, would linger in his mind for a long, long time.
She’d jumped in to save the day, and it had worked in a surprising, blood-stirring way.
What an odd, mismatched team they made. The polo enthusiast and the cowgirl. The Brit and the Texan.
The tabloids were going to have a field day with that one.
* * *
Amber hadn’t heard a word from Jensen or anyone remotely related to the Drummonds or the Fortunes since she’d run interference for them two days ago. And while she’d hoped someone would call to give her news about Amelia, she really hadn’t expected them to. She just hoped that everything went okay—and that the baby was healthy.
Other than her scattered thoughts, it had been business as usual on the Broken R. After breakfast, she’d lined up the foreman and ranch hands on the chores that needed to be done. Then she’d checked on the broodmares and worked with Lucky Charm, a gelding who was showing a lot of promise.
It had been a productive morning. That afternoon, Gram drove into town to run some errands and to pick up groceries at the Superette, while Amber went into the office and spent the next two hours paying bills, reconciling the checkbook and catching up on some year-end bookkeeping.
She’d no more than printed off a report for the accountant when the sound of an approaching vehicle caught her attention. She glanced out the window just in time to see Gram’s Ford Taurus speed into the yard and skid to stop, a swirl of dust settling around the black sedan.
The mild-mannered woman never drove over the speed limit, and to come racing home...? Why, that bordered on recklessness.
See? Elmer Murdock was a bad influence on her.
Determined to ignore the behavior and not make any more fuss about Gram’s dating habits, hoping that the excitement would run its course and fizzle out, Amber glanced down at the printout. That was, until Gram’s shrill voice called out from the kitchen.
“Amber Sue Rogers! Get on out here as fast as your little legs will carry you. What in blue blazes is this all about?”
It had been ten or more years since Gram had lit into Amber, although even then, she’d been fairly soft-spoken and mellow about it. So she was clearly worked up about something, and the angry shriek kicked Amber’s pulse rate up a notch.
So after pushing back the desk chair, Amber hurried to the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about.
She found Gram standing beside the scarred oak table, holding a newspaper—or rather a tabloid— clucking her tongue and shaking her gray head.
“What’s wrong?” Amber asked.
Gram turned the paper around and flashed a front page photo of a couple kissing. Well, not just any couple. It was Amber and Jensen standing smack-dab on Quinn Drummond’s front porch.
Her heart thudded and rumbled like flat tire on a wheel that was falling off its axle.
How the heck did a national tabloid get a photo printed so quickly? Those dang reporters must have emailed it to the home office as soon as they took it, along with some cock-and-bull story to explain what they imagined they saw. Because other than the pictures they took of her riding the mare, there was nothing to report because she hadn’t said a single word to them.
“Girl,” Gram said, “you’re front-page news. It doesn’t list your name, but I know it’s you. And so will everyone else in town.”
Sure as shootin’, it was Amber, all right. And there was no mistaking the headline, either. Sir Jensen and Texas Cowgirl Caught in Royal Liplock!
“What’s this all about?” Gram asked.
“It wasn’t a real kiss, if that’s what you mean. And there’s no romance going on between us. It was just an act, a ploy to distract a tabloid reporter who was hanging around the Drummond ranch.”
“Distract him from what?”
“From learning that Amelia was in labor and that she’d been taken to the hospital.”
Amber snatched the paper and scanned the article, which didn’t appear to mention the Drummonds at all, other than to say that the Fortune Chesterfields seemed to be fixated on the “bucolic commoners in quaint Horseback Hollow.”
What a crock of bull. They made normal, down-home country folk sound like a novelty that the rich and famous would soon grow tired of.
“Did the ploy work?” Gram asked.
Amber glanced up from her reading. “In terms of taking the heat off Amelia? Yes, it appears that way.”
But now, it seemed that heat had been transferred on to Amber, who’d gotten her fifteen minutes of unwarranted and unwanted fame.
As she continued reading about how a brazen cowgirl had launched herself into Sir Jensen’s arms in an attempt to rope a British royal...well, heck. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Better yet, maybe she ought to rope herself a couple of reporters and hog-tie them until they wanted to crawl into a hole and die. It’d serve the nosy snoops right. She did have to admit, though, the shots of her in the saddle were pretty good. She smiled, remembering the clicking of shutters and photographers’ gasps as she nailed several of her trademark riding tricks. When it came to showmanship, she definitely had the knack.
“Speaking of Amelia,” Gram said. “How is she? Did she have her baby?”
“I don’t know.” Amber set the tabloid on the table and tapped her finger at the photo that took up most of the front page. “After that silly kiss, I went outside and took the filly out of the trailer. Then I saddled her and proceeded to ride around the yard, doing a few tricks. If you turn the page, you’ll see a couple of shots where I’m showing off for the cameraman and the reporter, which is how Jensen was able to slip away and head to the hospital.”
Gram reached into the grocery bag, withdrew a tub of spreadable butter and placed it in the refrigerator. “I hope he appreciated your help because I’m afraid that article is going to make you look like a hussy.”
Amber lifted her hand and fingered her lips, recalling the kiss that had shocked the wits out of Jensen—and had nearly stolen the breath out of her.
He seemed to have appreciated the diversion, although now she wasn’t so sure. She might have just helped him exchange one sticky wicket for another.
The telephone rang, and Gram answered. “Hello? Yes, it is.”
Amber didn’t give the call much mind, thinking it was some kind of telemarketer or one of Gram’s quilting friends wanting to be the first to know whether it was truly little tomboy Amber Rogers plastered all over the racks above the grocery store checkout aisles.
“Goodness, it’s no bother at all. And yes, she’s right here.”
Her? As in Amber? Who could it possibly be? She didn’t give people of any importance, like friends or someone from the casting department of Cowboy Country USA, the telephone number to the house. They called her cell. And speaking of that casting director—Perry or Terry What’s-His-Name...
The guy had gotten it in his head that she could not only rope and ride, but that she’d look great dressed up as a saloon girl. So he’d been trying to talk her into auditioning for a part as a dance-hall girl in some indoor stage show they planned to have called Madame LaRue’s Lone Star Review.
Never mind that Amber had never been to France and couldn’t do the cancan. Apparently, they had dance instructors who could teach her all she needed to know.
“May I tell her who’s calling?” Gram asked.
Boy, that guy was sure persistent.
“Why, hello, Jensen. I’ll get her.” Gram covered the telephone receiver and whispered, “I knew it was him, but I didn’t want him to think I was all gaga over him like some folks in town—especially after that stupid tabloid hit the newsstand.”
She was right. Some of the locals saw dollar signs whenever they spotted one of the Fortunes because they considered them as rich as ol’ fury. And with the Fortune Chesterfields now in town, some people acted as though they were related to the queen of England.
Amber took the receiver, cleared her throat and willed her voice to sound as though kissing royalty and being on the front page of a tabloid were just as normal as...well as wearing a saloon-girl costume and dancing the cancan.
“Hey,” she said. “I’m glad you called, Jensen. How’s your sister? Did she have the baby?”
“She’s doing splendidly. She had a beautiful baby girl early this morning—about six o’clock.”
She was in labor for two days? “It sounds as though she had a rough time of it.”
“Actually, her labor would start, then stop. And because she wasn’t due until the first of February, her doctor was reluctant to induce her labor—or to send her home. She wasn’t overly uncomfortable until last night, when her water broke—and then they gave her an epidural.”
“How much did the baby weigh?”
“2.7 kilograms.”
Amber’s breath caught. “That sounds awfully small. Is everything okay?”
He paused. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot that you Americans aren’t on the metric system. She weighs about six pounds—maybe a bit less.”
“Then she wasn’t too small. You Brits do things so differently.”
“I’m afraid it’s the other way around, my dear. But I’m much too happy to argue with you. Mother and daughter are doing very well.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Amber blew out a sigh of relief. “I’d been wondering how things were going—and I’d planned to call Jeanne Marie and ask.”
“You would have had to call her on the mobile. She’s here at the hospital with us.”
“That’s not surprising. I’m sure she’s been nearly as excited about the new baby as your mother is.”
“That’s true. They’re both beside themselves and planning shopping trips already—now that they know the baby is a girl.” Jensen laughed.
“Well, thanks for calling,” Amber said.
“I also wanted to let you know that Amelia would like to speak with you.”
Amber glanced at the tabloid on the kitchen table. No doubt Jensen’s sister had gotten wind of the latest gossip. The realization poked at her like a pinprick to a helium balloon, and all the levity she’d experienced a heartbeat ago whooshed out, leaving her empty, deflated.
Was the new mother upset about her providing more Chesterfield fodder for the news rags? Had it caused her more grief and uneasiness on a day that should have been one of the happiest of her life?
Maybe Amelia wanted to ask Amber to stay away from her, Quinn and the baby from now on.
If that was the case, this would be her first—and maybe her only chance—to see the baby. At least, until Jensen left town and news of the poor and desperate cowgirl’s attempts to land a royal husband died down.
“Can you slip away for a while?” Jensen asked. “The nursing staff have strict orders not to allow any visitors, other than the ones who are already here and are now leaving, but I can get you in.”
“Amelia wants to see me in person? Today?”
Couldn’t it wait until she was released from the hospital? Until she was feeling better?
“Yes,” Jensen said. “So I thought it might be best if you met me someplace discreet.”
No doubt because the reporters hadn’t shown up at the hospital yet. And since they probably assumed Amelia and Quinn were still at the ranch. Maybe they were staked out there, so Jensen was afraid to go home. Or maybe they were now following Amber.
“Sure,” she said. “Of course. Where do you think we should meet?”
“I know this sounds pretty clandestine, but if your grandmother wouldn’t mind driving you into town later this evening, she could drop you off at one of the local eateries. Then maybe you could slip out the back door, and I could pick you up.”
“Perhaps I should wear a costume of some kind.”
“I don’t know if that would be completely necessary.”
Amber had meant the comment to be tongue-in-cheek, but Jensen clearly hadn’t picked up on it. So she took it a step further. “A black trench coat might be better than cutting eyeholes out of a brown paper bag and wearing it over my head.”
“Are you annoyed?” he asked.
“Mostly with myself and this darned predicament I seem to have gotten us into. I should have known better than to have kissed you.”
Silence stretched across the telephone line for a moment, and she was suddenly more embarrassed about bringing up the kiss rather than the entire incident itself. And why was that?
“For the record,” he said, “I thought that kiss was rather nice.”
“Nice? Well, that’s a relief. At least you didn’t find it dull or nasty.”
“In spite of what you said to the contrary, it appears that I’ve managed to offend you yet again and that was never my intention.”
Amber blew out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Jensen. It’s just that I’m looking at a blasted tabloid and reading about how I’ve set my sights on marrying a British prince so I can move to London and drink tea with the queen. And all I was trying to do was help you and your family. Now people are going to think I’m some kind of highfalutin gold digger.”
“I know better than that. And I would wager that most people who know you would agree.”
A slow smile stretched across her face. “Thank you for that. I just hope your sister and the rest of your family does, too.”
“We’re aware of how the paparazzi creates stories out of nothing. This is old hat for us. So don’t worry about anyone from my family believing that rot.”
She supposed that was true. But his sister was trying to live a normal life in Horseback Hollow, and she probably didn’t care for any extra notoriety these days.
Still, Amber couldn’t imagine why Amelia would want to speak to her, especially now—and in person. It couldn’t possibly be about anything other than the media headlines. And to be honest, Amber dreaded the meeting.
But she wasn’t a coward. So she’d have to face the music—or in this case, the new mama.
* * *
In spite of Jensen’s assurance that they act normally, it still seemed pretty cloak-and-dagger to Amber.
At exactly seven o’clock, she and Gram pulled into the parking lot of the VFW, where they left the Ford Taurus next to Elmer Murdock’s army-green Dodge Charger. Amber wore her customary Wrangler jeans, although she’d chosen a white feminine blouse and a new black sweater to ward off the winter chill. She’d also applied more makeup than usual and had left her hair long and loose, the tendrils glossy and curled on the ends.
Then she and Gram went inside to meet her grandmother’s unlikely gentleman friend. Amber stayed long enough to drink a diet soda, to make small talk and to ask Elmer to drive Gram back to the ranch. Needless to say, the Korean War vet was more than happy to oblige—and Gram was pleased with the game plan, too.
Twenty minutes later, as dusk was settling over Horseback Hollow, Amber excused herself and walked to the feed store, which was closed. But that didn’t matter. She had no intention of going inside. Instead, she slipped around to the back, where Jensen was waiting for her in Quinn’s pickup, the engine idling. Then she opened the passenger door, climbed inside and off they went.
They traveled a circuitous route to the hospital in Lubbock, arriving well after dark—and right before visiting hours ended for the night.
As they entered the lobby, which still bore Christmas decorations although New Year’s had just passed, Amber said, “It looks like we managed to avoid those pesky reporters.”
“This time, and when you outwitted them two days ago and helped me escaped. You’re a clever actress. Your ploy worked.”
Jensen probably had no idea how his compliment pleased her, how it pumped her confidence and encouraged her to go ahead and audition for Madame LaRue’s Lone Star Review. Why not? It might be fun, whether she landed the spot or not.
When they stopped at the elevator, he pushed the up button, then turned to her and smiled. “Perhaps you should be living in Hollywood instead of Horseback Hollow.”
Fortunately for her, with Cowboy Country USA opening just outside town, she wouldn’t have to move from the ranch at all. “Thanks. Play-acting is a talent I’m just learning to perfect.” And just in case he’d read too much into that little kiss she’d given him, she added, “So don’t get too caught up in the local gossip about me being swept off my boots by you. That little smooch was all part of the show.”
“Is that right?” His lips quirked into a sly grin.
He might be having fun at her expense, but she ignored the tease and merely nodded.
“Then you really are a jolly good actress.” He reached out and fingered her throat, where her pulse fluttered. Dang. Did he feel it trembling?
She swallowed, no doubt giving him something else to feel in there.
Where the heck was that darn elevator?
But she shook off the pesky little flutters and trembles. “What are you getting at?”
“That kiss on Quinn’s porch. The one you said was no big deal.”
“What about it?”
“Afterward, when we went inside, your cheeks were rosy. But so was your neck and throat. How did you manage to get that flush to spread like that? I’m amazed that you were able to just close your eyes and conjure it there with no help from me or any good, old-fashioned chemistry. Like I said, you’re a very good actress. Either that, or a very bad liar.”
She had to admit she’d been shaken by the kiss, although she hadn’t wanted to admit it to him—or even to herself.
But the trouble was, she had been thinking about it a lot more than she should. It may have started out as an act—all fun and games. But she’d never experienced a kiss quite like that before and she doubted she’d ever experience the like again.
Fortunately, the elevator door finally opened, interrupting the intense questioning of his eyes and allowing her to pretend as though they’d been talking about something else.
“All aboard,” she said. “Which floor is Amelia on?”
“The fourth.”
Before she could push the button, two other people joined them. Thank goodness! Saved by strangers.
A couple of elevator dings later, Jensen walked Amber through the double doors that led to the maternity ward and on to room 411, where they found Amelia comfortably nestled in her hospital bed, holding her daughter in her arms.
The tired but glowing new mother looked up from the precious swaddled bundle. “Oh, good. You’re here. Thank you for coming, Amber.”
“Where is everyone?” Jensen asked.
“Mum and Aunt Jeanne Marie just left with Quinn. They’re having dinner at a restaurant down the street. I believe they’ll be heading back to Horseback Hollow, but Quinn will be staying the night with the baby and me. And he promised to bring me back some shepherd’s pie. I don’t know when these pregnancy cravings will go away, but this hospital food isn’t really to my liking.”
Amanda eased closer to the bed and peered at the sweet newborn who dozed in her mother’s arms. “She’s beautiful. And so small. But I’m sure she’ll be playing dress up with her cousin Piper and pushing dollies in their strollers in no time at all.”
“I’m sure you’re right. Plus, Quinn’s sister Jess just gave birth to a baby girl two nights ago. So she has another new cousin to play with.”
“Three little girls all close in age,” Amber said. “Won’t that be fun?”
“What’s especially nice is that Jess and Mac have five sons so, needless to say, they’re delighted to finally have a daughter to love and spoil.”
“I’ll bet they are!”
As Amber and Amelia marveled over the sweet newborn, Jensen asked his sister, “Is there anything you need? I’d be happy to pick it up for you.”
“I talked to Stacey,” Amelia said, “and I think I’m going to need more nappies.”
“I’m sure you will,” Amber said. “From what I hear, newborns don’t sleep through the night for several months. So you won’t be getting much sleep.”
Jensen furrowed his brow. “What does sleep have to do with it?”
“Taking naps?” Amber asked. “I would think that your sister will need to take plenty of them.”
Amelia laughed. “I was talking about diapers. We call them nappies in England.”
“You’ve sure done some strange things with our language,” Amber said.
Jensen gave her a little nudge. “I beg to differ. If I remember my history lessons, the English language was well established before your little American colony began butchering it.”
Amber elbowed him right back. “And we dumped your tea into the harbor and taught you a lesson or two, if I remember correctly.”
“Listen, you two, if your revolution reenactment wakes the baby, I’ll have to ask you to take it outside my hospital room,” Amelia said, as she smirked and nuzzled her newborn closer.
“We’ll save it for later,” Jensen said. “Besides, visiting hours are nearly over.”
“Then, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Amber alone.”
“Of course,” Jensen said. “I’ll step outside into the hallway.”
Here it comes. Amelia was going to lay into her for practically mauling her brother in public. But Amber was a big girl. She could take her licking.
“Thank you for distracting that reporter at the ranch,” Amelia said. “It allowed Quinn and I to have our privacy during this special time in our lives.”
“You’re welcome. Although, I apologize for opening up a whole new can of worms for those crazy tabloids. Now they think Jensen and I are a hot topic.”
“Would that be so bad?”
Amber drew back. Was she kidding? While a lot of mothers opted for natural childbirth, the British woman must’ve chosen to use drugs. Was Amelia flying high on some kind of medicine that bypassed her baby’s bloodstream but had her dreaming romantic fantasies?
Amelia studied Amber carefully, smiled and nodded. “You’re just what Jensen needs.”
Seriously? Amber slowly shook her head. “I’m afraid you’ve got it all wrong. It was just a little kiss between friends.”
“The camera caught a spark. And I’ve seen the banter between you. My brother hasn’t lit up like that since before my father passed away. And even then...well, I think there’s something going on.”
Oh, boy. Maybe the euphoria of being a new mother was making her see things that clearly weren’t there. “I’m afraid it was all an act.”
Amelia shook her head. “You can deny your feelings the way I denied mine for Quinn. But it will be futile. Once my brother sets his sights on a prime piece of horseflesh, he can be as stubborn as Churchill’s bulldog.”
Had Amelia just called her a horse?
The Brits had such an odd way with words. Maybe it was best that Amber not take offense, especially when the new mother had been so sweet and so understanding.
Amelia glanced down at her little one, then checked the baby’s diaper. “Well, what do you know? I’m going to have to change her nappy, then put her down for a nappy.”
They both laughed.
“I’ll let you get to it, then,” Amber said. “And it’s probably a good idea if you both get some rest. Thanks so much for understanding about that darn photo.” Even if Amelia didn’t understand that nothing was going on between Amber and her brother.
“Thank you. We might need you to pull another stunt to help us sneak home undetected.”
“I don’t know about that. I’m afraid this cowgirl isn’t used to being front-page news. But I’ll run the idea past Jensen.” She tossed her new friend a smile. “You have a beautiful baby, Amelia. Take care.”
Then she slipped out of the room and went in search of Jensen. She found him near the water fountain in the corridor.
“That was quick,” he said. “What did she have to say?”
“Not much. She thanked me for helping lead the paparazzi astray. That kind of thing.”
As they continued out of the hospital, he glanced her way a couple of times. She figured he wasn’t buying her explanation. But there was no way she’d tell him what Amelia had really said, especially about there being some kind of spark in that kiss—as nice and moving as it was. Or that he needed someone like Amber. Imagine that.
He opened the lobby door, and they stepped out into the winter night.
“I forgot to ask if they’d chosen a name for the baby.” In truth, she’d been so worried about the conversation Amelia intended to have with her that she’d been thrown off step.
“Clementine Rose.”
“How cool is that? Your sister gave her daughter a Western name.”
“What do you mean?”
Amber broke into song, singing the familiar old diddy that Pop used to hum all the time, “Oh, my darlin’, oh, my darlin’, oh my darlin’, Clementine...”
“Actually,” Jensen said, “the baby was named after my father’s mother—Clementine.”
“Oh. And the Rose...?”
“Amelia just likes the name.”
Jensen opened the passenger door of Quinn’s pickup, and Amber slid inside. Then he climbed behind the wheel and they were off.
The ride back to Horseback Hollow was pretty quiet, the silence stretching between them like a taut rubber band that was ready to snap.
When they finally reached the feed store, where they’d met earlier, he parked in front, under an old streetlight that wasn’t working. It was only a couple of doors down from the VFW, where Gram had left the Taurus for Amber to drive home.
When Amber reached for the door handle, Jensen asked, “What’s really bothering you?”
She turned back, deciding to finally level with him. But instead of taking her time to think up a careful explanation, her words came out in a near rush after being pent up for so dang long. “It’s just that Amelia thinks we’re really a couple, and I know that’s not true. Heck, we’re barely even friends. Anyone can see that. A man like you would never want a girl like me, and you’re probably laughing on the inside and—”
Jensen leaned across the seat, placed a hand behind her neck, drew her lips to his and stopped her deluge of words with a kiss that soon deepened to the point that her hands didn’t want to stay put.
Amber wasn’t sure how long it would have lasted or what it might have led to if Jensen hadn’t inadvertently leaned against the horn, setting off a loud, earsplitting honk that made them jerk apart and left them both breathless.
“What...was...that...kiss?” She stopped, her words coming out in raspy little gasps.
“...all about?” he finished for her.
She merely nodded.
“I don’t know. It just seemed like an easier thing to do than to discuss.”
Maybe so, but being with Jensen was still pretty clandestine, what with meeting in the shadows, under the cloak of darkness.
The British royal and the cowgirl. They might be attracted to each other—and she might be good enough for him to entertain the idea of a few kisses in private or even a brief, heated affair. And maybe she ought to consider the same thing for herself, too.
But it would never last. Especially if the press—or the town gossips—got wind of it.
So she shook it all off—the secretive nature of it all, as well as the sparks and the chemistry, and opened the passenger door. “Good night, Jensen.”
“What about dinner?” he asked. “I still owe you, remember?”
Yep, she remembered. Trouble was, she was afraid if she got in any deeper with him, there’d be a lot she’d have a hard time forgetting.
“We’ll talk about it later,” she said.
“Tomorrow?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“I may have to take my brother and sister to the airport, although I’m not sure when. I’ll have to find out. Maybe we can set something up after I get home.”
“Maybe so.” She wasn’t going to count on it, though. Especially when she had the feeling he wouldn’t want to be seen out in public with her—where the newshounds or local gossips might spot them.
But as she headed for her car, she wondered if, when he set his mind on something, he might be as persistent as those pesky reporters he tried to avoid.
Well, Amber Rogers was no pushover. And if Jensen Fortune Chesterfield thought he’d met someone different from his usual fare—he didn’t know the half of it. Because he’d more than met his match.
