It might not be her own wedding, but she was excited about planning her mom’s. Maybe someday it would be hers. Her thoughts went back to Rafe for a split second before she banished him. Sure, he’d look good in a tux at the front of church, but there was a whole lot more to a marriage than a guy who could rock the wedding.
“I am marrying a rancher,” Sarabeth mused. “What about country rustic?”
“But you’re marrying him on a yacht. Maybe go for a classic or elegant style?”
Sarabeth closed her eyes.
Gina couldn’t seem to stop herself from glancing to the archway that led to the front dining room. Rafe was on the other side of it in the distance, and she gazed at him for a minute longer, thinking there was no law against looking.
“I’m thinking tea-length, slightly A-line,” Sarabeth said, opening her eyes. “Ivory silk, maybe a thin organza overlay and flat lace on a sweetheart neckline with cap sleeves?”
“That’s a very detailed picture.”
“Can you see it?”
Gina could see it, and it was beautiful. She smiled. “Yes. Not too froufrou, but formal enough for the opulent surroundings.”
“That’s it!” her mother said, sitting back. “Next, we do you.”
* * *
Sarabeth left to meet her fiancé, Brett, while Gina stayed behind to take care of the RCW tab. She hesitated over the tip amount. She wanted to be generous to their waitress, but she was afraid Rafe might see a large tip as flaunting the family wealth, especially in light of the collective losses of Royal businesses from Soiree on the Bay.
Then she laughed at her own foolishness, realizing Rafe would never even see the tip. What were the chances he went through a day’s credit card receipts? Slim to none. She tipped big and punched in her PIN.
There. Done.
She came to her feet, smoothing the front of her sleeveless black-and-white dress and slipping her olive green handbag over her shoulder. She walked with confidence in her jungle-patterned pumps. The spike-heeled shoes weren’t made for long walks, but they did great things for her calves, and they’d get her as far as her Jaguar convertible.
As she rounded a polished wood pillar near the front foyer, a man stepped unexpectedly out in front of her. She stumbled, nearly falling into his chest.
His hands came out, grasping her upper arms to steady her, and she looked up to find it was Rafe. Strong hands, handsome face, sinfully sexy lips...
Gina told her brain to shut up already.
“Sorry,” he said, then obviously registered who she was. He let go of her like she was contagious, that frown reappearing on his face.
“My fault,” she said, because it was, and she didn’t have to like him to tell the truth. “I was in a hurry.”
He glanced into the dining area behind her. “Your mother?”
“Left to meet with her fiancé.”
“Ah, yes, Brett Harston.”
“Right. You would know Brett.”
“Ranching fraternity.”
Rafe didn’t look much like a rancher. His face was tanned a deep brown. His hands were broad and strong, but she hadn’t felt thick calluses on his fingertips like most ranchers’.
She wondered how long it had been since he rode the range on his huge family ranch.
“I haven’t seen you in here before now,” Rafe drawled, his watchful gaze betraying his assumption. He’d concluded she was persona non grata at the TCC. He was right, but that didn’t excuse his rudeness.
“Are you trying to start an argument?” she asked bluntly.
“No...yes...maybe.” There was a hint of amusement in his expression along with what seemed like a flare of admiration for her grit.
She might have laughed at the comeback if he wasn’t being such a jerk. “We were victims, too, you know. Just like everyone else.”
His dark brows went up in obvious amazement. “You?”
“Yes, me.”
“The Edmond princess, a victim of financial misfortune?” He made a show of peering out the front window to the parking lot. “Let me guess which car you’re driving.”
“Well, that’s irrelevant.”
He took his time looking over her designer outfit. “Where, exactly, are you going to have to cut back, Princess?”
Her clothes were expensive, sure. But, again, irrelevant. “Don’t call me that.”
“It fits.” He waited a moment. “You don’t have an answer, do you?”
“An answer for what? For you being so rude?”
“On where you’re personally cutting back. Give me one concrete example of the festival embezzlement impacting your exclusive lifestyle, and I’ll apologize unreservedly.”
She didn’t have a quick answer for that.
“That’s none of your business,” she huffed.
He laughed at that, a full, rich sound.
“Well, clearly nothing’s changed around here yet,” Gina pointed out, glancing around at the bustling staff and the upscale decor.
Rafe sobered. “You can’t see what’s happening under the surface.”
“You can’t see what’s happening under my surface, either.” The Edmonds might not be in an immediate cash crisis, but their reputation had been savaged, starting with Asher’s arrest and then with Billy’s disappearance. And the fallout from that was just beginning.
Never mind that she and her brothers felt honor bound to try to fix the mess. She’d never admit it to someone like Rafe, but she did feel some responsibility for the catastrophe since it was her family that brought Billy into the community.
Rafe considered her for a minute. Up close, her initial attraction to his looks, his powerful presence and his graceful movements grew even more potent. She felt hot and prickly with awareness of him as a man.
“You want to show me?” he asked, his low, deep voice reverberating around her.
She was taken aback by the question. It could be interpreted in a whole host of different ways, some of them extremely seductive. Her face and neck warmed with her reckless thoughts.
“Hang on,” he said. “I didn’t mean it that way...”
She didn’t know what she hated more, that he seemed to be able to read her mind or that she seemed to be able to read his.
“I didn’t think you did,” she answered tartly, willing her hormones to calm the heck down.
“Then why the blush?”
“I don’t blush.”
“You’re blushing now.” He was making it worse.
“I’m angry now,” she said.
“Why?”
She didn’t have a quick answer for that either, but she tried her best. “Because...because, you’re being so rude!”
“Me?” He feigned surprise.
“Yes, you.”
“I only asked about the more subtle impacts of the embezzlement situation on your family.”
She narrowed her eyes, not buying his innocent act for a moment. “Yeah, right.”
He shook his head pityingly. “Oh, Gina. You’re so used to men falling at your feet in abject adoration that you don’t recognize anything else.”
She wasn’t. She didn’t. She hadn’t just done that...
Had she?
Two
Rafe was nothing more than an ordinary guy.
Sadly, that meant he was cursed like all the rest with an undeniable urge to fall at Gina Edmond’s feet in abject adoration. But he’d never do it. He was far too smart for that. But he wasn’t immune to the unmistakable sex appeal that oozed from her very pores. It was in every move she made, every expression she gave, in her deep, sultry, sexy voice. He hadn’t cared what she said to him, so long as she was talking.
“I said borrow money from Dad.” His brother Matias spoke up from where he sat on a padded chair on the deck of Rafe’s house, ove
rlooking Pine Valley.
The sun was setting now on the western horizon, yellow, pink and wild-rose red painting the distant storm clouds. The temperature was August-hot, but an evening breeze brought some relief as Rafe arrived back from his beer run to the kitchen.
“You know I’m never going to do that.” He set an icy bottle of beer down for his brother on the small round table, then took the chair on the opposite side, his own cold beer slick from condensation in his hand.
“Too proud?” Matias asked.
“Too practical.” Rafe was also too proud, but that wasn’t the most salient reason for his decision. “I promised myself RCW would make it on its own. I’m not liquidating my assets to prop it up, and I’m not asking anyone in the family for money, either.”
“The embezzlement is just a temporary setback,” Matias said.
“Maybe so. But I made the decision to invest in Soiree on the Bay.”
“You and half the businesses in town.”
Rafe took a pull on his beer. “It’s like being in Vegas.”
“Huh?”
“You set your limit going in, and you don’t deviate from it even if the losses mount up.”
Matias shot him a puzzled look. “You set a limit in Vegas? How is that any fun?”
Rafe chuckled. His brother might be the most reckless of the Cortez-Williams brothers, but he’d never let himself lose big in Vegas.
“Seriously,” Matias said. “If you’re going to gamble, gamble. It’s not gambling if nothing meaningful is at stake.”
“You’re telling me you’ve lost real money in Vegas?”
Now Matias looked affronted. “Of course not.” He snorted out a laugh. “I win in Vegas. But sad to say, I haven’t been to Sin City in months.”
“You betting on anything locally?”
“I’d bet on you,” his brother said with all sincerity.
Rafe shook his head. “I don’t need your money.”
“You just said RCW is in serious financial trouble.”
“It is. But we’ll work it out with corporate resources. That’s the deal I made with myself when I walked away from the ranch. Maybe we’ll find Billy and get the money back.”
“Given what I’ve heard about the scheme? Doubtful. That’s a guy who’s been thinking about this for a long time.”
“I suppose,” Rafe said. “What do you think does that to a man?”
“Sucks his conscience from his soul?”
“Yeah.” That was pretty much what Rafe meant.
“Well, it looks like he’s probably an Edmond.”
Rafe chuckled at that, taking another drink, the effervescent liquid feeling good on his throat in the sultry evening. “You’re saying the flaw is in the genetics?”
“Rusty’s a cutthroat. Look what he did to his son Ross when he went against him.”
Rafe gave his brother a mocking look. “You watched me walk out on Dad. Are you saying we’re genetically tainted?”
“You and Dad didn’t have that kind of a fight.”
“It took us a while.” Rafe’s father considered the ranch his sons’ heritage and their obligation, all five of them.
“But you got there,” Matias said, gesturing again with his beer bottle for emphasis.
“We got there.” Rafe’s relationship with his father was a bit of an armed truce, but they were working on it. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d be in for if RCW failed. The I-told-you-sos from his father would be unrelenting.
“You were too cocky,” Matias said.
“I was younger. No. Scratch that. I’d do the same today.”
“Even knowing how it ends?”
“It hasn’t ended.”
“Especially if you let me lend you some money. Or buy in. I could be your partner. Sell me half of RCW.”
Rafe burst out laughing at that. “You’re not cut out for the restaurant business. Besides, can you imagine Dad coming unglued if you announced you were throwing in with me? Your horse breeding sideline is bad enough.” Rafe shook his head. “Plus, you’re a rancher, Matias, you and Lorenzo both.”
“And you’re not?” His brother looked disappointed as he asked.
“I’m not. I mean, I can rope and ride, run a herd, and pick cattle at auction. But I don’t love it like you guys do.”
“You love the restaurant business?” It was clear Matias couldn’t understand that.
“I do.” At least Rafe relished the day-to-day running of RCW, the enthusiasm of the staff, the joy of the customers having celebrations, the creativity of JJ and the other chefs.
He wasn’t so wild about the Royal business community. They seemed to prefer the Cortez-Williams brothers as ranchers, slightly on the outskirts, not smack-dab in the middle of their corporate world. The ostracism was subtle, but he was still struggling to be accepted as a fully functioning member of the business community.
“To each his own,” Matias said. “Hope you can hang on to it.”
“I do, too.”
There was a meeting of the Royal Chamber of Commerce this week to discuss a way out of the financial debacle for the chamber, the TCC and the whole town. Rafe was going to be there, and he was going to put his shoulder to the collective solution, whatever it was.
* * *
Gina came early to the Royal Chamber of Commerce meeting. She wanted to get seated before too many people arrived—ideally somewhere near the back, where the accusatory gazes of her fellow community members couldn’t easily find her. It was no fun being a pariah.
For as long as she could remember, she’d been greeted warmly at TCC events and other happenings in Royal, first as a child and a teenager accompanying her father and other family members, but in recent years on her own, acknowledged as an Edmond in her own right.
However, today, she was slinking quietly in and trying to hide in the background.
Lila Jones was at the front of the room leaning over a rectangular table, the only person there so far. She looked up as Gina entered through the double doors at the back.
“Hi, Gina.” Lila’s expression was welcoming, her voice friendly. Then again, she had always been a decent person. A little understated maybe, before her recent makeover, but a solid, hardworking, respected member of the Royal business community.
Gina tried to imagine Lila being treated as a pariah. She couldn’t. No matter what Lila’s family did or didn’t do, she would be respected for herself and her own accomplishments.
Gina wanted that for herself.
Her footsteps were muted on the carpet as she decided to make her way forward. “Can I help?” she asked the other woman.
“Help?”
“Anything to get ready?” It was a small offer, an insignificant offer really.
Normally, she would pour herself a coffee at the refreshment table or help herself to a bottle of water, sit down with friends and have a nice chat while the meeting got under way. This was the first time she’d considered the work that went into convening a chamber gathering.
Gina supposed it was Lila’s job to put the meetings together. But the Royal Chamber of Commerce was primarily a volunteer organization, and it had never occurred to her to volunteer.
Lila glanced around, seemingly puzzled by Gina’s offer. “I...uh...guess you could put out the agenda packages. I mean, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Gina spotted a stack of agendas on the table. She tucked her purse snugly under her arm and picked up the stack.
“Thanks,” Lila said.
“It’s nice to have something to do.”
Lila gave Gina a sympathetic smile, and started to say something, but then shut her mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Lila shook her head.
“Go ahead.” Gina was curious.
“I�
�m just...sorry for what you’re going through.”
“It’s been hard on the family.”
“Not the family,” Lila said. “You. Personally. It can’t be fun having everyone staring and whispering behind your back.”
Gina looked down at the agendas for a second. She wasn’t used to pity. There’d never been a need for it in her life.
“I’m learning to cope,” she admitted.
“That which doesn’t kill us...” Lila let the famous quote fall away.
“Oh, I hope this makes me stronger,” Gina said.
“Do you want it to make you stronger?” The other woman seemed sincere.
“I do.”
“How’re you going to do that?” Mere moments into the conversation, Lila had hit on the crux of the problem.
“Honestly? I have no idea. I usually just go along for the ride.” As Gina said the words, she realized how very true they were. “How can that be?”
“You are who you are.” Lila looked intelligent now, insightful, reminding Gina how she had always excelled in school. A grade ahead, while Gina and her friends were fussing about clothes and makeup and boys, Lila had been busy pulling in top marks, working hard, like she still seemed to be doing even after making a splash on social media.
Gina had never envied Lila. But she did now. Lila pulled her own weight in the world. It obviously gave her independence and self-worth.
“I don’t want to be who I am,” Gina impulsively admitted.
“Who do you want to be?”
Gina almost said you. “Someone who helps.” She looked down at the agendas and laughed at herself, because she was standing here talking instead of getting to work. “But you’ve given me something to think about. Thank you.” She began to step away to put the pamphlets on the tables, but then stopped and looked back. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
Gina heard voices behind her and realized the other attendees were starting to arrive. She had to talk fast. “This thing you did.”
“The thing?”
“Changing from studious to glam.”
“I wouldn’t say—”
Bidding on a Texan Page 2
