His Convenient Virgin Bride

by Barbara Dunlop

  Royce set her aside and strode into the room. “Sure he does. What better way to understand your career. Got any popcorn?”

  “We haven’t had dinner yet. I’m not—”

  “Then let’s grill some burgers.” Royce pushed up the sleeves of his cotton, Western shirt. “I could use a burger. How about you, Alec?”

  “Sure. Burgers sound good.” So did watching videos of Stephanie, especially since she seemed hesitant. Did she have something to hide?

  “Well, I’m not sticking around for this,” Stephanie warned.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” asked Royce.

  She stuck her freckled nose in the air. “I’ll get something at the cookhouse.”

  “Suit yourself,” said Royce, and Alec caught the faintest glimpse of satisfaction on the man’s face.

  What was going on here?

  Stephanie stuffed her feet into a pair of worn leather boots, shrugged into a chunky gray sweater and stomped out the door.

  “I thought she’d never leave,” said Royce.

  Alec peered at the man. “What’s going on?”

  Royce turned down the short passage to the kitchen. “We’re grilling burgers and watching family videos.”

  Twenty minutes later, Alec bit into a juicy, flavorful burger. He had to admit, Royce really knew his way around an outdoor grill. Alec was starving, and the burger was fabulous, slathered in fried onions, topped with a thick slice of garden fresh tomato, and encased in what had to be a homemade bun.

  Beside him in the opposite armchair, Royce clicked the remote control on the television. “If anyone asks,” he said, settling down to his own dinner. “We were simply eating burgers and watching home videos.”

  Chewing and swallowing, Alec glanced from their plates to the television and back again. “No problem. I’ve got your back.”

  Royce nodded.

  They made their way through their meals as a young, red-haired Stephanie bounced over foot high jumps on a white pony. Her small hands were tight on the reins, her helmet was slightly askew, and her face was screwed up in determination as she cleared the rails.

  Alec couldn’t help but smile, and he wondered why Stephanie objected to him watching. She was adorable.

  In his short time he’d spent down at the main house on the Ryder Ranch with Royce and his fiancée, Amber, Alec definitely got the sense that both Royce and Stephanie’s oldest brother Jared were in the habit of indulging her. Looking at this video, and knowing the age difference between Stephanie and her two brothers, it was easy to see how that had happened.

  Turning toward a crisscrossed jump, the pony gathered itself. Stephanie stood in the stirrups, leaning across its neck. The animal’s front legs lifted off the ground, back feet kicking out. The pair sailed over the white painted rails, jolting to the dirt on the other side.

  The horse came to a halt, but Stephanie kept going, flying over its head, arms flailing as she catapulted forward, thudding into the dirt. Luckily the horse veered to one side, stepping neatly around her little body.

  Jared and Royce both ran into the frame. The two teenagers gingerly turned their sister over, talking to her—though Alec couldn’t make out the words—brushing the dirt from her little face.

  She sat up. Then she nodded, bracing herself on Jared’s shoulder and coming to her feet.

  Her brothers kept talking, but she shook her head, walking determinedly toward the pony, taking the reins, and circling around to mount. She was too short to put her foot in the stirrup, so Royce gave her a leg up.

  Jared kept arguing, looking none too happy. But Stephanie got her way. She turned the horse, heading to the end of the arena. The camera followed her as she restarted the course.

  Alec shook his head, his feelings a cross between admiration and amusement.

  Suddenly Royce set his plate aside and lifted the remote control, muting the sound.

  Alec turned his attention.

  “There’s something you need to know.” Though Royce’s tone was even, his expression was narrowed and guarded.

  Alec arched a brow.

  “This needs to be kept in the strictest confidence,” Royce warned.

  “Everything you tell me is kept in the strictest confidence.” It was a hallmark of Alec’s business.

  Royce nodded sharply.

  Alec waited, his curiosity growing.

  “Right,” said Royce, fingers drumming against the leather arm of the chair. He drew a breath. “Here it is then. We’re being blackmailed.” He paused. “It’s Stephanie.”

  “What did she do?” Dope a horse? Fix a competition?

  Royce scowled. “She didn’t do anything. She’s the one in the dark, and we’re keeping it that way.”

  Right. Stupid conclusion. Alec tried another tactic. “Who’s blackmailing you?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Okay…” Alec wasn’t sure where to go with that.

  “It’s the biggest drain on the cattle ranch’s account.”

  At least that explained why Amber thought Alec ought to know.

  “How much are we talking about?” he asked.

  “A hundred thousand a month.”

  “A month?”

  Royce’s expression was grim as he nodded.

  Alec straightened in his armchair. “How long has this been going on?”

  “At least a decade.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I know.”

  “You’ve spent twelve million dollars keeping a secret from Stephanie?”

  Royce rocked to his feet, shoulders square, hands balled.

  “Must be one hell of a secret.”

  Royce twisted round to glower at Alec.

  “Sorry. None of my business,” said Alec.

  Still, he couldn’t help sifting through the possibilities in his mind. Was there a shady business deal in their past? Did the family fortune originate from an unsavory source? Gambling? Bootlegging?

  “You won’t figure it out,” said Royce.

  “I might.”

  “Not this. And I don’t want you snooping around.”

  “I won’t snoop,” Alec agreed. He’d respect his client’s wishes. “But I might think.”

  Royce gazed at the silent screen where an elevenish Stephanie was taking yet another spill. “Suppose you can’t stop a man from thinking.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “Aw, hell.” Royce heaved a sigh and sat back down.

  Alec gave him a moment. “How bad can it be?”

  Royce scoffed out a harsh laugh. “My father was a murderer and my mother was adulterous.” He paused. “We’re being blackmailed by her lover’s brother. The lover was also the murder victim.” Another pause, and Royce’s voice went lower. “That’s how bad it can be.”

  Alec’s brain filled in the blank. “And Stephanie is your half sister.”

  Royce drew back sharply, his expression confirming the truth.

  Alec shrugged. “That’s the only possibility worth twelve million dollars.”

  “She’s never going to know.”

  “You can’t keep paying him forever.”

  “Oh, yes, we can.” Royce grasped the back of his neck. “My grandfather paid until he died. Then McQuestin paid. I took over a couple months ago.”

  Though it went beyond the bounds of his contract, Alec felt an obligation to be honest. “What are you going to do when he ups his price?”

  It was obvious from Royce’s expression that he hadn’t considered that possibility.

  “You’ll eventually have to tell her, Royce.”

  Royce shook his head. “Not if we stop him.”

  “And how are you planning to accomplish that?”

  “I don’t know.” Royce paused. “Got any ideas?”

  Two

  Last night’s cookhouse burger hadn’t measured up to Royce’s talents, but it had filled Stephanie’s hunger gap. And at least she’d avoided one more screening of Stephanie Hits the Dirt Across America.


  It was one thing to show that bloopers reel to friends and family, but to strangers? Business associates? She was busy trying to get Alec to take her seriously, and Royce was making her look like a klutz.

  Nice guy her brother.

  She opened the wooden gate to Rosie-Jo’s stall in the center section of the main horse barn and led the mare inside. The vet had given the horse a clean bill of health, and they’d had a great practice session this morning. Rosie had eagerly sailed over every jump.

  Stephanie peeled off her leather gloves, removed Rosie’s bridle and unclipped the lead rope, reaching through the gate to coil it on the hook outside the stall. She selected a mud brush from the tack box and stroked it over Rosie’s withers and barrel, removing the lingering dirt and sweat from the mare’s dapple gray coat.

  “How’d it go?” Wesley’s voice carried through the cavernous barn. His boot heels echoed as he crossed from Rockfire’s stall to Rosie-Jo’s. He tipped back his Stetson and rested his arms on the top rail of the gate.

  “Good,” Stephanie answered, continuing the brush strokes.

  Though she didn’t look up, a shimmer of anticipation tightened her stomach. The barn was mostly empty, the grooms outside with other horses and students. She hadn’t talked to Wesley since their aborted kiss two days ago. If he wanted to try again, this would be the opportunity.

  “Hesitation’s gone,” she added. “You tacking up?”

  Wesley nodded. “Rockfire’s ready to go. Tina has them changing up the jump pattern for us.”

  Stephanie gave Rosie-Jo’s coat a final stroke. Normally she’d do a more thorough job, but she could always come back later. For now, she wanted to give Wesley another chance. Meet him halfway, as it were.

  She replaced the brush, dusted her hands off on the back of her blue jeans and started across the stall to where he was leaning over the rail. Suddenly shy, she found she couldn’t meet his eyes. Was she being too blatant, too obvious? Should she make it a little harder for him to make his move?

  It wasn’t like she was experienced at this. Ryder Ranch was a long way off the beaten track. She’d never had a serious romantic relationship, and it had been months—she didn’t want to count how many—since she’d even had a date.

  She came to a stop, the slated gate a barrier between them. When she dared look at his face, his lips were parted. There was an anticipatory gleam in his blue eyes. And his head began to tilt to one side.

  Should she lean in or let him take the lead?

  “Am I interrupting anything?” It was Alec’s voice all over again, and his footfalls rapped along the corridor floor.

  Wesley’s hands squeezed down on the gate rail, frustration replacing the anticipation in his eyes.

  “Is this some kind of a joke?” he rasped for Stephanie’s ears only.

  She didn’t know what to say. Alec seemed to have a knack for bad timing.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Wesley.

  “Not as sorry as I am.”

  She turned to face Alec. “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so.” He stopped. After a silent beat, he glanced meaningfully at Wesley.

  Wesley glared at him for a moment then smacked his hand down on the rail. “Time for practice,” he declared and turned on his heel to lead Rockfire from his stall.

  As she watched the pair leave, disappointment clunked like a horseshoe to the bottom of Stephanie’s stomach.

  “What is it now?” she hissed at Alec, popping the latch and exiting the stall. After securing it behind her, she set off after Wesley.

  “Places to go?” asked Alec, falling into step.

  “Things to do,” she responded, with a toss of her hair. She was going to watch Wesley’s practice session. It was part of her job as his coach. Plus, she’d be there when he finished. And by then, Alec should be long gone.

  “I’m trying to help you, you know.”

  “I can tell.”

  “Is your sex life more important than your company?”

  Stephanie increased her pace, stomping forward, ignoring Alec’s question.

  Sex life.

  Ha! She couldn’t even get a kiss.

  She passed through the open barn doorway, squinting into the bright sunshine, focusing on Wesley who was across the ranch road, mounting Rockfire.

  Too late, she heard the roar of the pickup engine, then the sickening grind of tires sliding on gravel.

  She had a fleeting glimpse of Amber’s horrified face at the wheel before a strong arm clamped around Stephanie’s waist and snatched her out of harm’s way.

  Alec whirled them both, sheltering Stephanie against the barn wall, his body pressed protectively against hers as the truck slid sideways, fishtailing out of control, roaring past to miss them by inches.

  “You okay?” his voice rasped through the billowing dust.

  She told herself to nod, but her brain was slow in interpreting the signal.

  “You okay?” he tried again, louder.

  This time, Stephanie managed a nod.

  “Stay here,” he commanded.

  And suddenly, he was gone. Without Alec’s physical support, her knees nearly gave way. She grabbed at the wall, mustering her balance, blinking the blur from her eyes while the world moved in slow motion.

  As she turned, she took in two ranch hands across the road. Their eyes were wide, mouths gaping. Wesley struggled to control Rockfire, turning the big horse in dust-cloud circles.

  Stephanie followed the direction of the hands’ attention. A roar filled her ears as Amber’s blue truck keeled up on the left wheels.

  Alec was rushing toward it

  Stephanie tried to scream. She tried to run. But her voice clogged down in her chest, and her legs felt like lead weights.

  Then the truck overbalanced, crashing down on the driver’s door, spinning in a horrible, grinding circle until it smacked up against an oak tree.

  The world zapped back to normal speed. Amongst the cacophony of shouts and motion, Alec skidded to a stop. He peered through the windshield for a split second, then he clambered his way up to the passenger door, high in the air.

  He wrenched it open, and Stephanie’s body came back to life. She half ran, half staggered down the road, Amber’s name pulsing over and over through her brain.

  Alec swiftly lowered himself into the truck.

  Stephanie grew closer, praying Amber was all right.

  Suddenly Alec’s sole cracked against the inside of the windshield, popping it out.

  “Bring a truck,” he shouted, and two of the ranch hands took off running.

  Stephanie made it to the scene to see blood dripping down Amber’s forehead. The realization that this was all her fault, made her stagger.

  Alec met her eyes. “She’s okay,” he told her, his voice steady and reassuring. “Call Royce. But tell him she’s okay.”

  Stephanie saw that Amber’s eyes were open.

  She looked dazed, but when Alec spoke to her, Amber answered back.

  His hands moved methodically over her body, arms, legs, neck and head.

  But then Stephanie saw it.

  “Smoke,” she tried to shout, but her dry throat wouldn’t cooperate.

  Alec saw it, too.

  People ran for fire extinguishers, while Alec fumbled with Amber’s seat belt.

  While he worked, he spoke calmly and firmly.

  Stephanie couldn’t hear the words, but Amber nodded and swallowed. She wrapped her arms around Alec’s neck, as the first flames snaked out from under the hood.

  He spoke to Amber again, and she closed her eyes, burying her face against Alec’s neck. His arms tightened around her, and he slowly, gently eased her through the opening left by the windshield.

  Stephanie held her breath, her glance going from the growing flames, to Amber and back again.

  Wesley appeared by her side. “You okay?”

  The question annoyed her. “I’m fine.” It was Amber who was in trouble. And Alec, who
might get hurt or worse trying to save her.

  The flame leaped higher.

  Alec’s foot touched the ground outside the truck.

  He gripped Amber close to his chest, rising to rush away.

  “Get back!” he shouted to the growing crowd, just as the hood blew open, missing the tree trunk and cracking against the roof of the cab.

  He staggered forward, but stayed upright and didn’t lose his grip on Amber.

  Three hands arrived with fire extinguishers, aiming them at the engulfed truck.

  Stephanie backed away from the heat. Remembering the cell phone in her hand, she quickly dialed Royce’s number.

  Another pickup pulled up, and Alec lay Amber carefully across the bench seat.

  “Don’t try to move,” he warned her.

  “Hello?” Royce’s voice came into Stephanie’s phone.

  “Royce?” Her voice shook.

  “Stephanie?”

  She didn’t know what to say.

  Alec scooped the phone. “Alec here.” He took a breath. “There’s been an accident. Amber’s fine.” A pause. “No. No one else was in the truck.” He glanced at Stephanie, then down at Amber. “She’s conscious.”

  He moved the phone away from his mouth. “Can you talk to Royce?”

  Amber nodded, so Alec handed her the phone. Then he motioned to everyone else to back off. They obeyed, with the exception of Wesley who still hovered next to Stephanie.

  When Amber put the phone to her ear and listened, tears welled up in her eyes. Stephanie instinctively moved in to comfort her, but Alec stopped her with his arm.

  “Don’t touch her,” he whispered, keeping his arm braced around Stephanie’s waist.

  He reached into his pocket, retrieving his own cell phone.

  Stephanie looked at him with a question.

  “Medical chopper,” he said in a low voice, turning away from Amber to speak to emergency services.

  Stephanie’s attention immediately returned to Amber. Blood was still oozing from the cut on her forehead, and there was a wicked bruise forming on her right shoulder. Her blouse was torn, her knuckles scraped.

  Was she really okay? Had Alec lied to Royce? And what did Alec know anyway? He wasn’t a doctor.

  Okay, so he knew enough to pull Amber from a burning truck.

  That was something.