by Joanne Rock
Can a bachelor auction gone wrong...
mean temptation for the rich rancher?
James Harris needs a nanny for his nephew—now! So when Lydia Walker’s sister reneges on an extravagant bachelor-auction bid, the Texas Cattleman’s Club president has an idea. He’ll cover the debt, and Lydia will care for the baby. Neither is prepared for the passion that blindsides them. But is a permanent personal arrangement more than they bargained for?
“If you really want what’s best for Teddy, please don’t rule yourself out. You might make a better father than you realize.”
James knew the only reason he didn’t discount the suggestion immediately was because of that gentle touch on his forearm. The cool brush of Lydia’s skin along his. It made it impossible to think about anything else but her. His heart slugged hard against his ribs. His gaze dipped to her lips as they parted ever so slightly.
An invitation?
Or wishful imagining?
If she was closer, he would kiss her. He couldn’t decide if it was good thing or a bad thing that there was a vacant seat between them, keeping them apart. Instead, he covered her hand with his, watching her all the while.
Her pupils widened a fraction. Even in the dim light of the kitchen, he could see that hint of reaction. A sign of shared desire.
She didn’t pull away.
* * *
The Rancher’s Bargain by Joanne Rock is part of the Texas Cattleman’s Club: Bachelor Auction series.
Dear Reader,
One of many fun things about writing a Texas Cattleman’s Club story is revisiting Royal, Texas, and having the chance to work with the other authors who are setting stories there. So often, writing a book is a very solo endeavor. Most of the time, a book is imagined by the author and written and researched by the same author. But with the Texas Cattleman’s Club, the writing experience is more communal. Research involves fun exchanges with other authors in the line.
It provides a great chance to compare notes on what we’re doing, catch up with friends or get to know authors I haven’t worked with before. This time out, it was a special treat to visit more with Reese Ryan and Joss Wood in particular since their stories fall next to mine. Seeing how these talented ladies create their characters and how they construct their story worlds inspired me. And I hope it shows in the special care we give to Royal, Texas, and the people who live and fall in love there!
Happy reading,
Joanne Rock
Joanne Rock
The Rancher’s Bargain
Joanne Rock credits her decision to write romance after a book she picked up during a flight delay engrossed her so thoroughly that she didn’t mind at all when her flight was delayed two more times. Giving her readers the chance to escape into another world has motivated her to write over eighty books for a variety of Harlequin series.
Books by Joanne Rock
Harlequin Desire
The McNeill Magnates
The Magnate’s Mail-Order Bride
The Magnate’s Marriage Merger
His Accidental Heir
Little Secrets: His Pregnant Secretary
Claiming His Secret Heir
For the Sake of His Heir
The Forbidden Brother
Wild Wyoming Nights
One Night Scandal
Texas Cattleman’s Club: Bachelor Auction
The Rancher’s Bargain
Visit her Author Profile page at Harlequin.com, or joannerock.com, for more titles.
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Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Excerpt from Bombshell for the Boss by Maureen Child
One
It is okay to say no to unnecessary crazy.
Lydia Walker repeated it like a mantra while she read the digital headline from a story that had run in the Royal, Texas, newspaper earlier in the week while she’d been out of town.
Local woman boosts charity bachelor auction with $100K bid!
Seated at her tiny kitchen table with a cup of coffee grown cold, Lydia hovered her finger over the scroll button on her cell phone. She wished she could just swipe right and not worry about the “local woman” who happened to be her irresponsible sister Gail. The impulsive sibling who did not have $100,000 to her name. What had Gail been thinking?
In spite of herself, Lydia started reading the article again.
Gail Walker, a local entrepreneur, made the surprise bid on Lloyd Richardson, a local rancher. Ms. Walker could not be reached for comment while she is out of town on a romantic getaway with her chosen bachelor, but the Great Bachelor Auction master of ceremonies, James Harris, said he’s grateful for the generous donation that benefits the Pancreatic Cancer Research Foundation. “This is what the event is all about...”
Closing her eyes, Lydia flipped the phone facedown on the table to stop herself from going over the story a third time.
Definitely unnecessary crazy.
She had just gotten back into town after a visit to her mother’s home in Arkansas for Thanksgiving, a trip she’d been guilted into since she hadn’t been home in almost two years. Her mom had used the time to corner Lydia about being in Fiona’s upcoming wedding to a fourth husband, making the holiday a total disaster. Lydia had wanted her sister to make the long drive with her, but Gail had insisted she needed to stay in Royal and personally oversee her fledgling grocery delivery service. An excuse Lydia had accepted, proud of Gail for doing something fiscally responsible for a change.
Ha! Apparently, Gail just wanted to stay in town to bid on a sexy bachelor during the event at the swanky Texas Cattleman’s Club. Had the word already gotten out around town that Gail didn’t have the money? Lydia scanned the Royal paper for more news but found only stories about the auction’s lone bachelorette, Tessa Noble, and her date with a local rancher. There was no follow-up article about Gail’s date or her outrageous bid.
Yet.
Lydia’s stomach knotted. How could Gail do something like that to a charity, for crying out loud? Furthermore, they shared the same last name. How did it look for the Walker women, both trying to start their own business, when they didn’t pay their debts?
Anger flaring, she flipped her phone screen toward her again and dialed her sister’s number. As the oldest of eight siblings, Lydia was used to high drama in the family. But for most of her life, the main perpetrator had been her mother, a woman who had parlayed her parenting experience into a successful homemaking blog, House Rules. Fiona Walker’s online followers loved her “whimsical” approach to childrearing that Lydia viewed as flighty at best and, at times, downright dangerous. Lydia had hoped Royal, Texas, would be a fresh start for her and Gail once the youngest of their siblings was old enough to fend for himself with their mom.
But now, with the mortifying news of Gail’s over-the-top bachelor auction bid, Lydia had to admit that her sister hadn’t fallen far from the maternal tree.
“Lydia!” Her sister squealed her name as she answered her phone. “You’ll never guess w
here I am!”
Frustration simmered.
“I certainly hope you’re at the Pancreatic Cancer Research Foundation explaining how you’re going to magically make one hundred thousand dollars appear,” Lydia snapped, powerless to restrain herself. “Gail, what on earth are you doing?”
Anxious and irate, she paced around her half-finished kitchen in the house she’d been slowly renovating to one day open an in-home child care business. She nearly tripped on the flooring samples she’d carefully laid out by the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. The toe of her slipper sent Spanish cedar and mahogany samples flying over the ash and buckthorn pieces.
“I am having a romantic holiday with the man of my dreams,” her sister retorted, her tone shifting from excited to petulant. “Is it too much to ask for you to be happy for me? For once?”
Lydia covered her eyes with one hand, remembering her mother had said those same words to her—almost verbatim—just last week when Lydia refused to be in her wedding. Now, her head throbbed while the morning sunlight poured in through the back door. “I’m happy that you’re having a good time. But I’m very worried about how you’re going to cover the bid you placed at the bachelor auction. Have you spoken with the cancer foundation?”
“I’ll bet that’s why my credit card didn’t work yesterday at the spa,” Gail mused. In the background, music that sounded like it came from a mariachi band was growing louder. “I forgot about the payment to the bachelor auction.”
“What payment?” Lydia pressed, heading back to the kitchen table to clear her plate and cup. “You don’t have the kind of money you bid.”
She held the phone on her shoulder, pinning it to her cheek while she set the dishes in the sink.
“And I’ll figure it out after vacation, okay, Ms. Worrywart?” Her sister raised her voice to be heard over the music. “Oh, and just FYI, I’m ignoring calls from anyone I don’t know this week.”
“Who has been calling you?” Apprehension spiked. “The charity people?”
“No, the guy who was in charge that night. John? James?” Gail sighed. “Just forget it, okay? Right now, I’ve got to get back to my margarita before the ice melts!”
“Gail, wait—”
But her screen already read, “Call Ended.” And she knew her sister well. There wasn’t a chance Gail would answer if she phoned again.
It is okay to say no to unnecessary crazy.
The words had helped Lydia survive her teenage years. But right now, the mantra didn’t roll off the tongue so well when she thought about how the local folks who had worked hard to raise money for charity were being misled. The Texas Cattleman’s Club had hosted the event, and their members were a who’s who list of the town’s most influential people. Lydia wanted to put roots down in Royal. She’d already bought the fixer-upper property to start her child care business here. The last thing she needed was a mark against her family name because of Gail’s impulsiveness.
Maybe she could at least explain the situation to someone before the news surfaced about Gail’s lack of payment.
Scrolling back to the news piece, she found the name she was looking for. James Harris. The MC of the event must have been the one who’d tried contacting Gail. She’d missed seeing his photo in the margin of the story the first time, too dismayed by her sister’s behavior to see beyond the text of the story. But now, Lydia’s eyes lingered on the image of the man who was also the current president of the Texas Cattleman’s Club.
Handsome didn’t begin to describe him. The photo showed him in front of the organization’s historic clubhouse building, a fawn-colored Stetson shielding his face from the Texas sun. Tall and well built, he wore a fitted gray jacket that skimmed impressive muscles. Broad where a man should be. Lean in the hips. An angular jaw with a great smile. She couldn’t see his eyes clearly because they were shadowed by the brim of his hat, but his skin was a warm, inviting brown.
She blinked fast to banish the image from her brain since she could not afford to be sidelined by the man’s potent sex appeal. Lydia was not in the market for romance. Her mother’s active, dramatic love life had given Lydia a front-row seat for the way romance changed people. Fiona had metamorphosed into someone new for each guy she’d dated, heedless of how her whims affected the whole family. Lydia wasn’t looking for even mild flirtation, especially not with someone her sister had bilked out of a small fortune.
She knew better than to try to fix things that were out of her control, but she could at least extend Mr. Harris the common courtesy of explaining Gail’s situation. And, perhaps, learn possible options for compromise on the bill so she could speak sensibly to her sister upon her return. If she could still salvage some goodwill in the community in spite of Gail’s fake bid, it would be a minor miracle.
Lydia had an appointment to meet with the contractor who was supposed to work on her kitchen at noon. But right after that, she’d stop by the Texas Cattleman’s Club.
And hope with all her heart that James Harris was an understanding man.
* * *
“Lydia Walker is here to see you,” the disembodied voice announced through James Harris’s office intercom system.
He straightened from where he’d been practicing his golf swing in his office at the clubhouse. Although he’d never been much of a golfer, he had a golf tournament on his calendar and his competitive streak bristled at the idea of bringing down his foursome. Besides, focusing on a sport during his lunch break helped distract him from the knot of stress at the base of his spine. He’d never guessed the amount of work that came with his new position in the TCC, duties that ate into his time running his own ranch every day. But to complicate matters immeasurably, he now had a toddler nephew to raise.
When his brother, Parker, and Parker’s wife had died in a car accident three months ago, James had been devastated. But in addition to his own grief at losing a loved one he’d deeply respected, he had been struggling with the fact that Parker’s will entrusted James with the care of his son, Teddy. The weight of that responsibility threatened to take his knees out from under him if he allowed himself to dwell on it too long.
“Walker?” James repeated. The stress knot in his back tightened more at the mention of his visitor’s name. Setting aside the putter, he walked closer to the intercom. “As in the woman who ran off without paying her bachelor bid last week?”
How could someone publicly bid money they didn’t have? Or maybe she did have the money, but she just didn’t care to give the $100,000 she promised to the Pancreatic Cancer Research Foundation. Unwilling to risk the bad publicity, especially for an event he’d supervised, he’d ended up covering the debt himself. Better to keep the club out of the papers.
That didn’t mean the matter was settled.
“That was Gail Walker.” The woman at the desk out front lowered her voice. “Maybe Lydia is a relative.”
“Send her in.” He kicked two golf balls under the couch near the window. Lately, he didn’t mind extending his hours on-site at the clubhouse since there was a child care facility in the building and it seemed the one place his nephew was content. At home, Teddy was a handful. And then some.
James strode toward his office door to greet his guest. He hoped she was carrying a big fat check. Because while James hadn’t begrudged spending his personal funds on a worthy cause, he couldn’t help but resent a woman who felt no obligation to uphold a social contract.
Pulling open the office door, he could see he’d startled the woman on the other side.
Tall and slim, she had light brown hair and honey-colored skin that set off wide hazel eyes. She was dressed in khakis and a neat white blouse with a long pink sweater belted at her waist. She had one hand raised as if to knock while she nibbled at her lush lower lip. Her gaze darted anxiously to his.
A wholly unexpected attraction blindsided him.
He stared
at her a beat too long.
“Lydia Walker?” He offered his hand belatedly, irritated with himself for the wayward thoughts. “I’m James Harris.”
“Nice to meet you.” Her handshake was cool and firm. Businesslike. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Harris.”
“Please, call me James.” Standing back, he waved her into the office, leaving the door open to the clubhouse behind her. He glanced over toward the double doors leading into the child care facility, half expecting to see Teddy banging on the window. Or a child care worker running for the hills. But all was quiet. Thankfully. Returning his attention to his guest, he said, “Have a seat.”
James gestured to one of the leather chairs near the windows overlooking the garden and swimming pool. The TCC president’s office had been remodeled along with the rest of the historic building. Larger windows and higher ceilings now let in more light, and there were brighter colors in the decor. But the dark hardwood floors and oversize leather furnishings retained the feel of a men’s club from a bygone era. Historic photographs and artifacts from the club’s storied past filled the walls.
For a few hours here each week, he could pretend his life was normal again. That he wasn’t a stand-in father struggling to provide a home for an eighteen-month-old boy who surely felt the absence of his parents, yet was far too young to express himself. Dragging his fractured thoughts back to the appealing woman in his office, James focused on the here and now.
“Can I get you something to drink, Ms. Walker? Coffee or tea? A water?”
“No, thank you. And please call me Lydia.” She set her simple leather handbag on the floor by her feet while he lowered himself into the chair beside hers. “I won’t take up much of your time. I just came to see what I could to do in regard to my sister’s debt. I’ve been out of town, and I only just read the news this morning.”
“Ah.” He nodded, admiring her frank approach. “I appreciate that, Lydia, but I’m not sure how much I’m at liberty to divulge regarding your sister’s...finances.”
