Читать книгу Unbiddable Attraction - Robyn Grady - Страница 9

Two

The following day, Fee programed the GPS in her rented sports car to guide her to the restaurant where she would be meeting Chance for lunch. After their dance last night, he had insisted that they needed to talk more about his being the family spokesman and she had eagerly agreed. She was looking forward to getting her campaign started and his sister’s wedding reception hadn’t been the right time or place to discuss what she needed Chance to do.

When the GPS instructed her to turn north, Fee nervously looked around and realized she was heading in the same direction they’d driven the afternoon before on the way out of Cheyenne to the wedding. Sage and Colleen had invited her to accompany them to the Big Blue ranch for the wedding because she was alone in town and unfamiliar with the area. She’d been more than happy to accept the offer because her biggest concern when she’d learned that she would be spending more time in Wyoming was the fact that she was going to be completely out of her element. She had been born and raised in the San Fernando Valley and the closest she had ever been to a rural setting was her grandmother’s pitiful attempt at a vegetable garden on the far side of her swimming pool in Sherman Oaks.

When the GPS indicated that her destination was only a few yards ahead, she breathed a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to venture out of the city on her own. Turning into the gravel parking lot of a small bar and grill, she smiled when she parked next to a white pickup truck with Big Blue Ranch painted on the driver’s door. Chance was leaning against the front fender with his arms folded across his wide chest and his booted feet crossed casually at the ankles.

Lord have mercy, the man looked good! If she’d thought he looked like a cowboy the night before in his white shirt, black sport jacket and black hat, it couldn’t compare to the way he looked today. Wearing a blue chambray shirt, jeans and a wide-brimmed black cowboy hat, he was the perfect example of a man who made his living working the land. The type of man men could relate to and women would drool over.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” she said when he pushed away from the truck to come around the car and open her door.

“I’ve only been here a couple of minutes,” he said, smiling as he offered his hand to help her out of the car.

Her breath caught. Chance Lassiter was extremely handsome at any time, but when he smiled he was downright devastating. She had noticed that about him the night before, but attributed her assessment to the excitement she’d felt at finding the perfect spokesman to represent his family. But now?

She frowned as she chided herself for her foolishness. Her only interest in the man or his looks was for the purpose of improving his family’s image. Nothing more.

But when she placed her hand in his, a delightful tingling sensation zinged up her arm and Fee knew her reaction to his smile had nothing whatsoever to do with being anxious to start her ad campaign and everything to do with Chance’s raw sexuality. He wasn’t as refined as the men she knew in Los Angeles, but something told her that he was more of a man than any of them ever dreamed of being. She took a deep breath and ignored the realization. Her interest in him was strictly business and that’s the way it was going to stay. Maybe if she reminded herself of that fact enough, she would remember it.

“I have some of the mock-ups of the print ads I’d like to run,” she said, reaching for her electronic tablet in the backseat.

“Let’s have lunch and talk before we get into any of that,” he said, guiding her toward the entrance to the restaurant.

“I suppose you’re right,” she agreed as they walked inside. “I’m just excited about starting this project.”

His deep chuckle sent a warmth coursing throughout her body. “Your enthusiasm shows.”

When they reached a booth at the back of the establishment, he asked, “Will this be all right? It’s a little more private and we should be able to talk without interruption.”

“It’s fine,” she answered, sliding onto the red vinyl seat. Looking around, Fee noticed that although the bar and grill was older and a little outdated, it was clean and very neat. “What’s the special here?” she asked when Chance took his hat off and slid into the booth on the opposite side of the table.

“They have a hamburger that’s better than any you’ve ever tasted,” he said, grinning as he placed his hat on the bench seat beside him. “But I’m betting you would prefer the chef’s salad like most women.”

His smile and the sound of his deep baritone sent a shiver coursing through her. The man’s voice alone would charm the birds out of the trees, but when he smiled, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he could send the pulse racing on every female from one to one hundred.

Deciding to concentrate on the fact that he had correctly guessed her lunch choice, she frowned. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she didn’t like him thinking that she was predictable or anything like other women.

“What makes you think I’ll be ordering the salad?” she asked.

“I just thought—”

“I can think for myself,” she said, smiling to take the sting out of her words. “And for the record, yes, I do like salads. Just not all the time.”

“My mistake,” he said, smiling.

“Since it’s your recommendation, I’ll have the hamburger,” she said decisively.

He raised one dark eyebrow. “Are you sure?” he asked, his smile widening. “I don’t want you thinking I’m trying to influence your decision.”

“Yes, I’m positive.” She shrugged. “Unless you’re afraid it won’t live up to expectations.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “You’re really something, Felicity Sinclair. You would rather eat something you don’t want than admit that I was right. Do you even eat meat?”

“Occasionally,” she admitted. For the most part she lived on salads in L.A. But that was more a matter of convenience than anything else.

When the waitress came over to their booth, Chance gave the woman their order. “I can guarantee this will be the best hamburger you’ve ever had,” he said confidently when the woman left to get their drinks.

Curiosity got the better of her. “What makes you say that?”

“They serve Big Blue beef here,” he answered. “It’s the best in Wyoming, and several restaurants in Cheyenne buy from our distributor. In fact, my cousin Dylan and I made a deal when he decided to open a Lassiter Grill here to serve nothing but our beef in all of his restaurants.”

“Really? It’s that special?”

Chance nodded. “We raise free-range Black Angus cattle. No growth hormones, no supplements. Nothing but grass-fed, lean beef.”

Fee didn’t know a lot about the beef industry, except that free-range meat was supposed to be healthier for the consumer. But she did know something about Dylan Lassiter and the Lassiter Grill Group.

A premier chef, Dylan had started the chain with J.D.’s encouragement and had inherited full control of that part of the family business when J.D. died. Dylan was well-known for serving nothing but the finest steaks and prime rib in his restaurants, and Fee was certain that was why every one of them bore the coveted five-star rating from food critics and cuisine magazines. If he was confident enough to serve Big Blue beef exclusively in his restaurants, it had to be the best. And that gave her an idea.

“This is perfect,” she said, her mind racing with the possibilities. “I’ll have to give it a little more thought, but I’m sure we can use that for future Lassiter Grill advertisements, as well as the spots about the Lassiter family.”

“Yeah, about that,” Chance said slowly as he ran a hand through his short, light brown hair. “I don’t think I’m right for what you have in mind for your ad campaign.”

Her heart stalled. “Why do you say that?”

He shook his head. “I’m not a polished corporate type. I’m a rancher and more times than not I’m covered in dust or scraping something off my boots that most people consider extremely disgusting.”

“That’s why you’re the perfect choice,” she insisted.

“Because I’ve stepped in a pile of...barnyard atmosphere?” he asked, looking skeptical.

Laughing at his delicate phrasing, she shook her head. “No, not that.” Now that she’d found her spokesman, she couldn’t let him back out. She had to make Chance understand how important it was for him to represent the family and that no one else would do. “Not everyone can identify with a man in a suit. But you have that cowboy mystique that appeals to both men and women alike. You’re someone who will resonate with all demographics and that’s why they’ll listen to the message we’re trying to send.”

“I know that’s what you think and for all I know about this kind of thing, you might be right about me getting your message across to your target audience.” He shook his head. “But I’m not real big on being put on display like some kind of trained monkey in a circus sideshow.”

“It wouldn’t be like that,” she said earnestly. “All you’ll have to do is pose for some still pictures for the print ads and film a few videos that can be used for television and the internet.” She wasn’t going to mention the few personal appearances that he might have to do from time to time or the billboard advertising that she had already reserved. Those were sure to be deal breakers, so she would have to spring those on him after she got a firm commitment.

When he sat back and folded his arms across his wide chest, she could tell he was about to dig in his heels and give her an outright refusal. “What can I do to get you to reconsider?” she asked out of desperation. “Surely we can work out something. You’re the only man I want to do this.”

A mischievous twinkle lit his brilliant green eyes. “The only man you want, huh?”

Her cheeks felt as if they were on fire. She was normally very clear and rarely said anything that could be misconstrued. “Y-you know what I meant.”

He stared at her across the table for several long moments before a slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Come home with me.”

“E-excuse me?” she stammered.

“I want you to come and stay at the Big Blue for a couple of weeks,” he said, his tone sounding as if he was issuing a challenge. “You need to see how a working ranch is run and the things I have to do on a daily basis. Then we’ll talk about how glamorous you think the cowboy way of life is and how convincing I would be as a spokesman.”

“I didn’t say it was glamorous,” she protested.

“I think you referred to it as ‘the cowboy mystique,’” he said, grinning. “Same thing.”

“Is that the only way you’ll agree to do my PR campaign?” she asked, deciding that staying in the huge ranch house where the wedding had been held the night before wouldn’t be an undue hardship.

The Lassiter home was beautiful and although a little rustic in decor, it was quite modern. If all she had to do to get him to agree to be part of the advertising was stay at the ranch for a week or so, she’d do it. She had a job promotion riding on the outcome of this project and she wasn’t about to lose the opportunity.

“Nice try, sweetheart.” His low chuckle seemed to vibrate straight through her. “I didn’t say I would agree to anything if you came to the ranch. I said we’d talk.”

Staring at him across the worn Formica table, Fee knew that she didn’t have a lot of choices. She could either agree to go home with him and try to convince him to represent the Lassiters or start looking for another spokesman.

She took a deep breath. “All right, cowboy. I’ll stay with you at the Big Blue. But only on one condition. You have to promise that you’ll keep an open mind and give me a fair chance to change it.”

“Only if you’ll respect my decision and drop the matter if I choose not to do it,” he said, extending his hand to shake on their deal.

“Then I would say we have an agreement,” she said, extending her hand, as well.

The moment her palm touched his an exciting little shiver slid up her spine and Fee couldn’t help but wonder what she had gotten herself into. Chance Lassiter was not only the best choice for redeeming his family in the eyes of the public, he was the only man in a very long time to remind her of the amazing differences between a man and a woman.

Why that thought sent a feeling of anticipation coursing through her at the speed of light, she had no idea. She wasn’t interested in being distracted by him or any other man. She had a job to do and a career to build and protect. As long as she kept things in perspective and focused on her goal of putting together a campaign that would redeem the Lassiters for any and all transgressions, she would be just fine.

* * *

The following morning, Fee had just put the finishing touches on preparing brunch when the doorbell rang, signaling her guest had arrived. “You have perfect timing,” she said, opening the door to welcome Colleen Faulkner. “I just took the scones out of the oven.”

“I’m glad you called and asked me over.” Colleen smiled. “Sage is out of town for the day and I can definitely use a break from all of the wedding plans.”

“Have you set a date yet?” Fee asked as she led the way down the hall to the kitchen.

“No.” Seating herself at the table in the breakfast nook, Colleen paused a moment before she continued, “Sage is hoping if we wait a bit, things will settle down with Angelica.”

Pouring them each a cup of coffee, Fee set the mugs on the polished surface and sat down on the opposite side of the small table. “When I saw her at the wedding the other night, I could tell she’s still extremely frustrated with the situation. Has she given up the idea of contesting her father’s will?” Fee asked gently.

She didn’t want to pry, but it was no secret that Angelica Lassiter and the rest of the family were still at odds, nor was there any mystery why. The young woman wanted to break the will and regain control of Lassiter Media, while the rest of the family were reluctant to go against J.D.’s last wishes or bring into question the other terms of the will and what they had inherited.

“I don’t think she’s going to give up anytime soon,” Colleen admitted, shaking her head. “Angelica is still questioning her father’s motives and how much influence Evan McCain had in J.D.’s decision to take control of Lassiter Media away from her.” Colleen gave Fee a pointed look. “But J.D. had his reasons and believe me, he knew what he was doing.”

Fee had no doubt that Colleen knew why J. D. Lassiter had divided his estate the way he had—leaving his only daughter with practically no interest in Lassiter Media. Colleen had been his private nurse for some time before his death and she and J.D. had become good friends. He had apparently trusted Colleen implicitly, and with good reason. To Fee’s knowledge, Colleen hadn’t revealed what she knew about the matter to anyone.

“I just hope that I’m able to turn public opinion around on the matter,” Fee said, dishing up the breakfast casserole and crisp bacon she had made for their brunch. “The Lassiters have for the most part been known as a fairly close, happy family and that image has taken its share of hits lately.” She didn’t want to mention that Sage had distanced himself from J.D. sometime before the older Lassiter died or that they had never really resolved the estrangement. It was none of her business, nor did it have anything to do with her ad campaign.

“The tabloids are having a field day with all this,” Colleen agreed. They were silent for several long moments before she spoke again. “I’m a very private person and I’m not overly thrilled by the idea, but if you can use our wedding plans in some way to shift the focus away from whatever legal action Angelica is planning, I suppose it would be all right.”

Taken by surprise at such a generous offer, Fee gave the pretty nurse a grateful smile. “Thank you, Colleen. But I know how intrusive that would be for you and Sage during a very special time in your lives.”

“If it will help the Lassiters, I’ll adjust,” Colleen answered, looking sincere. “I love this family. They’re very good people and they’ve welcomed me with open arms. I want to help them in any way I can.”

Smiling, Fee nodded. “I can understand. But I think—at least I hope—I’ve found the perfect angle for my campaign and won’t have to use your wedding.”

“Really?” Colleen looked relieved. “May I ask what you’re planning?”

As she explained some of her ideas for the videos and print ads featuring Chance as the family spokesman, Fee sighed. “But he’s not overly happy about being in front of the camera. In fact, he’s invited me to stay at the Big Blue for the next two weeks to prove to me that he’s completely unsuitable.”

Colleen grinned. “And I’m assuming you’re going to use that time to convince him the exact opposite is true.”

“Absolutely,” Fee said, laughing. “He has no idea how persistent I can be when I know I’m right.”

“Well, I wish you the best of luck with that,” Colleen said, reaching for a scone. “I’ve heard Sage mention how stubborn Chance could be when they were kids.”

Fee grinned. “Then I’d say he’s met his match because once I’ve made up my mind I don’t give up.”

“The next couple of weeks should be very interesting on the Big Blue ranch,” Colleen said, laughing. “What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall when the two of you butt heads.”

“I’m not only hoping to have his agreement within a week, I’d like to get a photographer to start taking still shots for the first print ads,” Fee confided in her new friend. “Most of those will start running by the end of the month.”

“It sounds like you have things under control.” Colleen took a sip of her coffee. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed that you get Chance to go along with all of it.”

“Thanks,” Fee said, nibbling on her scone.

She didn’t tell Colleen, but she had to get him on board. Her entire campaign was based on him and his down-to-earth cowboy persona. The Lassiter family had been ranching in Wyoming for years before Lassiter Media became the communications giant it was today. Besides the down-to-earth appeal of a cowboy, it just made sense to capitalize on the family’s Western roots. She wasn’t going to let a little thing like Chance’s reluctance to be in front of the camera deter her from what she knew would be an outstanding promotion.

* * *

On Monday afternoon when Chance parked his truck in front of the house Lassiter Media had rented for visiting executives, he felt a little guilty about the deal he had made with Fee. He had promised that he would consider her arguments for his being part of her PR campaign and he did intend to think about it.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help the family; he just couldn’t see why one of his cousins wasn’t more suitable for the job of spokesman or for that matter, even his mother. She was the family matriarch and had been since his aunt Ellie had died over twenty-eight years ago. They all knew more about Lassiter Media than he did. He was a rancher and had been all of his life. That’s the way he liked it and wanted it to stay. Besides, he’d never been the type who felt the need to draw a lot of attention to himself. He had always been comfortable with who he was and hadn’t seen any reason to seek out the approval of people whose opinions of him didn’t matter.

All he wanted was to get to know Fee better and that was the main reason he’d suggested that she stay with him on the ranch. They could have some fun together and at the same time, he could prove to her that he wasn’t the man she needed for her ad campaign. He knew she wasn’t going to give up easily and would probably still insist that he was the best choice. But he seriously doubted she was going to make a lot of headway with her efforts.

Getting out of the truck, he walked up to the front door and raised his hand to ring the bell just as Fee opened it. “Are you ready to go?” he asked as his gaze wandered from her head to her toes.

Dressed in khaki slacks and a mint-green blouse, she’d styled her long blond hair in loose curls, making her look more as if she was ready for a day of shopping in some chic, high-end boutique than going to stay at a working cattle ranch. He hadn’t thought it was possible for the woman to be any prettier than she had been two days ago when they’d had lunch, but she’d proved him wrong.

“I think I’m about as ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, pulling a bright pink suitcase behind her as she stepped out onto the porch.

His eyebrows rose when he glanced down at the luggage. It was big enough to fit a body and if the bulging sides were any indication, there just might be one in there already. It was completely stuffed and he couldn’t imagine what all she had in it.

“Think you have enough clothes to last you for two weeks?” he asked, laughing.

“I wasn’t sure what I would need,” she answered, shrugging one slender shoulder. “Other than attending the wedding the other night, I’ve never been on a ranch before.”

“My place does have the convenience of a washer and dryer,” he quipped.

“I thought it would,” she said, giving him one of those long-suffering looks women give men they think are a little simpleminded. “That’s why I packed light.”

When he picked up the suitcase, he frowned. The damn thing weighed at least as much as a tightly packed bale of hay. If this was her idea of “packing light,” he couldn’t imagine how many pieces of luggage she’d brought with her for her stay in Cheyenne.

Placing his other hand at the small of her back, he noticed she was wearing a pair of strappy sandals as he guided her out to his truck. “I’m betting you don’t have a pair of boots packed in here,” he said, opening the rear door on the passenger side of the club cab to stow the suitcase.

“No. I didn’t expect to be needing them,” she answered. She paused a moment before she asked, “What would I need them for?”

He laughed. “Oh, just a couple of things like walking and riding.”

“I...I’m going to be riding?” she asked, sounding a little unsure. “A...horse?”

“Yup.” He closed the rear door, then turned to help her into the front passenger seat. “Unless you want me to saddle up a steer so you can give that a try.”

She vigorously shook her head. “No.”

“You do know how to ride, don’t you?”

There was doubt in her pretty blue eyes when she looked at him and he knew the answer before she opened her mouth. “The closest I’ve ever been to a horse is seeing them in parades.”

“Don’t worry. It’s pretty easy. I’ll teach you,” he said, giving her what he hoped was an encouraging smile as he placed his hands around her waist.

“W-what are you doing?” she asked, placing her hands on his chest. The feel of her warm palms seemed to burn right through the fabric and had him wondering how they would feel on his bare chest.

“You’re short and...the truck is pretty tall,” he said, trying to ignore the hitch he’d suddenly developed in his breathing. “I thought I’d help you out.”

“I assure you, I could climb into the truck,” she said.

“I’m sure you could,” he said, smiling. “But you want to shoot me a break here? I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

Staring down at her, it was all he could do to keep from covering her lips with his and kissing her until the entire neighborhood was thoroughly scandalized. His heart stuttered when he realized she looked as if she wanted him to do just that.

He wasn’t sure how long they continued to gaze at each other, but when he finally had the presence of mind to lift her onto the seat, he quickly closed the truck door and walked around to climb in behind the steering wheel. What the hell was wrong with him? he wondered as he started the engine and steered away from the curb. He’d never before been so completely mesmerized by a woman that he forgot what he was doing. Why was Fee different? What was it about her that made him act like an inexperienced teenager on his first date?

“I still don’t understand...why you insisted on coming to get me,” she said, sounding delightfully breathless. “I could have driven...to the ranch.”

“You could have tried,” he said, focusing on her statement instead of her perfect coral lips. “But that low-slung little sports car wouldn’t have made it without drowning out when you forded the creek. That’s why I suggested you leave it here. If you need to go somewhere, I’ll be more than happy to take you.”

“When we drove to the ranch for the wedding, I don’t remember anywhere along the way that could happen,” she said as if she didn’t believe him. “The roads were all asphalt and so was the lane leading up to the ranch house.” She frowned. “I don’t even remember a bridge.”

“There isn’t one,” he answered. “Most of the year it’s just a little slow-moving stream about three or four inches deep and about two feet wide,” he explained. “But July is the wettest month we have here in Wyoming. It rains almost every day and the stream doubles in size and depth. That little car sits so low it would stall out in a heartbeat.”

“Why don’t you build a bridge?” she demanded. “It seems to me it would be more convenient than running the risk of a vehicle stalling out.”

He nodded. “Eventually I’ll have the road to my place asphalted and a culvert or bridge put in. But I only inherited the ranch a few months ago and I’ve had other things on my mind like cutting and baling hay, mending fences and moving cattle from one pasture to another.”

“Hold it just a minute. Your place?” She frowned. “You don’t live on the Big Blue ranch?”

“I’ve never lived anywhere else,” he admitted. “I just don’t live in the main house.”

“There’s another house on the ranch?” she asked, her tone doubtful.

“Actually there are several,” he said, nodding. “There’s the main house, the Lassiter homestead where I live, as well as a foreman’s cottage and a couple of smaller houses for married hired hands.”

“The only buildings I saw close to the ranch house were a couple of barns, a guest cottage and a stable,” she said, sounding skeptical.

“You can’t see the other places from the main house,” he answered. “Those are about five miles down the road where I live.”

“So I won’t be staying with Marlene?” she inquired, as if she might be rethinking her decision to stay with him.

“Nope. The actual ranch headquarters is where we’ll be staying,” he said, wondering if Fee was apprehensive about being alone with him. She needn’t be. He might want to get to know her on a very personal level, but he wasn’t a man who forced his attentions on a woman if she didn’t want them.

Frowning, she nibbled on her lower lip as if deep in thought. “I was led to believe that the main house was the ranch headquarters.”

Chance almost groaned aloud. Nothing would please him more than to cover her mouth with his and do a little nibbling of his own. Fortunately, he didn’t have time to dwell on it. They had arrived at the stop he’d decided to make when he learned she didn’t have a pair of boots.

Steering his truck into the parking lot at the Wild Horse Western Wear store on the northern outskirts of Cheyenne, he parked and turned to face her. “My uncle built the main house when he and my late aunt adopted Sage and Dylan. That’s where we have our family gatherings, entertain guests, and Lassiter Media holds corporate receptions. The actual ranch headquarters has always been at the home my grandfather and grandmother built when they first came to Wyoming. I renovated it about seven years back when my uncle turned the running of the ranch over to me. I’ve lived there ever since.”

She looked confused. “Why not have the headquarters at the main house? Doesn’t that make more sense?”

Laughing, he shook his head. “Headquarters is where we sort cattle for taking them to market and quarantine and treat sick livestock. A herd of cattle can be noisy and churn up a lot of dust when it’s dry. That’s not something you want guests to have to contend with when you’re throwing a party or trying to make a deal with business associates.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” she finally said, as if she was giving it some serious thought.

“Now that we have that settled, let’s go get you fitted for a pair of boots,” he suggested, getting out of the truck and walking around to help her down from the passenger seat. “How many pairs of jeans did you bring?”

“Two,” she said as they walked into the store. “Why?”

“I’m betting your jeans have some designer dude’s name on the hip pocket and cost a small fortune,” he explained as he walked her over to the women’s section.

“As a matter of fact, I did get them from a boutique on Rodeo Drive,” she said, frowning. “Does that make them unsuitable?”

“That depends,” he answered truthfully. “If you don’t mind running the risk of getting them torn or stained up, they’ll be just fine. But if they’re very expensive, I doubt you’ll want to do that. Besides, they probably aren’t boot cut, are they?”

“No. They’re skinny jeans.”

He swallowed hard as he imagined what she would look like in the form-fitting pants. “We’ll pick up a few pairs of jeans and a hat.”

“I don’t wear hats,” she said, her long blond hair swaying as she shook her head.

Without thinking, Chance reached up to run his index finger along her smooth cheek. “I’d hate to see your pretty skin damaged by the sun. You’ll need a hat to protect against sun and windburn.”

As she stared up at him, her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips and it was all he could do to keep from taking her into his arms to find out if they tasted as sweet as they looked. Deciding there would be plenty of time in the next two weeks to find out, he forced himself to move. He suddenly couldn’t wait to get to the ranch.

“Let’s get you squared away with jeans and boots,” he advised. “Then we’ll worry about that hat.”