Secret Billionaire's Stubborn Cowgirl (The Secret Billionaires, #1)

by Leslie North

  She parked up in front of the red-brick apartment block and let herself into the place she’d called home for the past few months. It took a pitifully small amount of time to pack up and move out—in two hours she had her clothes and a few things she’d hung onto for her mom, for when she was well again and was moved into the back bedroom at Charlie’s.

  “It’s not much, but you get the place to yourself,” Charlie had told her. The back bedroom was the room over the old garage, which was really more of a storage shed now. “I squared it with that new fellow and he’s agreed to take you on for the next few months. I told him you were a good worker, so don’t you make a liar out of me.”

  “I won’t!” Lucy grinned and then let out a yawn, “Right, I better hit the sack.”

  “You better, see you tomorrow morning.”

  ***

  Looking at herself in the mirror, with the morning sunlight catching her curls, Lucy smiled. She’d put on jeans and a long sleeve T-shirt. She grabbed her work boots and sat in the little chair to pull them on. She’d done hard work before—farm work. Hell, she’d been taking care of herself for as long as she knew. Her mom had gotten sick when Lucy was just in middle school, and her daddy was always dragging them everywhere, looking for the big streak of luck. She’d been cook for the family, house keeper, and she’d taken every odd job she could to try and help with the nursing home bills. She’d done everything to hold the family together.

  That was until her daddy turned up in an alley behind a casino. He’d been shot. But he’d been a no-good drunk and gambling addict. Lucy had known the truth—he’d owed money to the wrong people. She hadn’t told her mom what had really happened. There’d been no point in saying anything other than Dave Ennis was dead.

  And Lucy was still trying to shake off the taint he’d left on her.

  She headed out of her room and to the kitchen. She needed some coffee and some food if she was thinking so much about the past—that was always a sign she was tired and hungry.

  Stepping into the kitchen, she stopped. A man sat at the kitchen table, his back to the door. But she recognized those broad shoulders—and what was he doing here?

  Charlie’s kitchen wasn’t much—an old stove, a scarred wooden table, a sink, a blue and white tile counter that needed new grouting and tiles. But it was always warm and smelled of spices and fresh bread—Charlie baked every day. Lucy had been looking forward to this—she could smell the coffee brewing. But now her stomach knotted. She grabbed the handle to the kitchen door tight. It couldn’t be...

  “You!” The word burst out sharper than she’d intended.

  The cowboy from the bar stood. His battered Stetson hung on the back of his chair. He had coffee and a plate of eggs and fresh biscuits in front of him. He gave Lucy a cool nod, his blue eyes even cooler, and he tucked his thumbs into his jeans pockets. “Well, well, and a good morning to you. Hope you don’t plan to come at me with that right hook of yours. I haven’t finished my coffee yet.”

  Lucy pressed her lips tight. She shut the kitchen door behind her, closing out the cool morning air. “So you ‘might’ actually say something now and then. Too bad it’s nothing all that interesting.”

  Charlie settled another plate of eggs and biscuits on the table. She wiped her hands together and glanced from Lucy to the stranger. “You two know each other?”

  Arms folded, Lucy nodded. “Yeah, we do. It’s this guy’s fault I got fired!”

  He held up his hands, palms out. “Hey, I didn’t tell you to punch that fellow.”

  “No, you just—” Lucy bit off the words. Just did nothing. There never was any sense in locking barn doors too late. She’d learned that from her daddy.

  Charlie gave a laugh. “Wow. This is going to be fun. Lucy Ennis meet Zach Collins. He’s the fellow I was telling you about. He’s leasing my farm—and you’re working for him now.”

  Lucy had known that from the second she’s seen him. She kept her lips pressed tight and her hands fisted. She needed the work—needed the paycheck. She wasn’t going to blow this by letting her temper go. She was not—not even if he pushed her.

  Chapter Three

  A slow, careful smile edged up Zach’s mouth. “So you must be my little helper?”

  He saw her face darken.

  He couldn’t help but tease the woman. A gold digger was she? At least that’s what her friend had called her. With her looks, she could manage that.

  Today she had her long, dark-brown hair pulled into a pony tail. Sparkling green eyes shot sparks at him. She stood with one hip cocked to the side, a little pocket rocket, he’d guess. She wasn’t that tall, but with jeans that hugged curvy hips and a T-shirt that offered glimpses of high, pert breasts, she looked good enough that he wouldn’t mind having her for breakfast. Yeah, she could dig money from a man’s pocket if she put her mind—and that body—to the task.

  He imagined what her hips would feel like pressed against his and her little hands wrapped around his neck. He mentally shook himself. He was here to get away, not have an affair with some spitfire gold digger. That was the last thing he needed. But at least that meant she wouldn’t be all that interested in him. Or at least not in a guy who didn’t look as if he had twenty dollars in his pocket.

  She plopped down into a chair and took up a fork. “So what’s on the schedule today? Boss?” She dragged out the last word, making it more of a question about his ability than anything else. Well, he was used to people underestimating him. He liked it that way.

  He sat and turned back to his own plate. “Finish up eating. I want to clean out the stalls in the barn first and do some repairs.”

  She slicked up her plate, threw back a cup of coffee that had to scald her mouth and stood. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s get going.”

  Coming over to the table, Charlie grinned. “You two have fun now.”

  “Oh, we will,” he muttered. Standing, he put on his Stetson. “Fine breakfast, Ms. Charlie.” He headed out and found Lucy on the porch, tapping one booted foot as if he was dragging his tail. He smiled at her and the frown on her face darkened. “Well, come on then.” He started walking down the road, noticed she wasn’t following, so he glanced back. “You coming or not?”

  She waved a hand at a white pickup parked in the yard. “We’re going to walk? The barn’s two miles from here.”

  “You got something against walkin’?”

  With a nod, she set out, her stride long.

  They walked in silence until they reached the huge red barn that sat at the beginning of the hay fields. Around it, the grass grew ragged and tall. Charlie hadn’t put in a crop this year, but the alfalfa had re-seeded itself. The barn needed new paint and the fields needed ploughing. Leaning back, Zach glanced at the barn. You could see light through one of shingles that had come off. By rights, he should bring in a full crew for this, but then he’d end up not getting a chance to do any of the work. He pulled out a pair of work gloves from his hip pocket. “Come on. There’s a hole up top I want fixed. You can hand me the materials from the bottom of the ladder.”

  She followed him into the barn and helped him carry out a wooden ladder that sagged in the middle. Glancing at it propped against the side of the building, she told him, “That doesn’t look too stable.”

  “It’ll be fine.”

  Grabbing the ladder, she shook it. The whole thing creaked. “Okay, you’re the boss, boss. But why didn’t you buy a new ladder?”

  Zach shook his head. “Why waste money?” He started up the ladder, calling down to her to hand up a hammer, nails, and shingles. She fetched the materials from just inside the barn door, handing them up. He’d brought out the supplies yesterday when he’d set up his office. The ladder kept creaking, but he just needed one more nail.

  He glanced down at Lucy. “Can you—?”

  A cracking sound cut through his words. He had time for a curse before the rung under his left foot gave out. He grabbed for a hold, but his glove slipped. He
could only catch the side of the ladder and then he was falling.

  “I’ve got you,” Lucy yelled.

  He had time to glance down at her, see her arms stretched wide and her feet planted. Then he fell onto her.

  He tried to catch her and roll with her—he didn’t want to break her their first day out. She had to be a lot stronger than she looked. She hung onto him, too, rolling with him. They came to a stop next to a battered bale of straw, both of them breathing heavy. He could hear her gasp for air—he was doing the same.

  Pushing up, he looked down at her.

  Legs tangled, chests pressed close, his hips grinding into hers—he couldn’t think. Lordy, what was he doing here? He couldn’t do anything except stare into those wide green eyes. He had his arms either side of her head with his palms flat against the ground. Her right leg was placed firmly against him—if she moved they’d both be embarrassed pretty damn fast.

  Her lips parted with a gasp and all he could think of was how soft and inviting they looked. She gasped again and his mouth dried. She was warm and soft—and probably needed some air, not him crushing her.

  He pushed back and up and held out a hand to her.

  Moving slow, she sat up, dusted herself up and stood—without his help. She kept staring at him as if it was his fault he’d fallen. And it probably was. He frowned. “Maybe I do need a new ladder.”

  She nodded. “Uh hun. You can get a good deal at Barney’s in town. Maybe bring it out—in a truck, too.” She slapped the dirt off her hips and waved a hand at the barn. “I think I’ll go clean stalls, if you don’t mind.”

  The barn hadn’t been used in years. Charlie had obviously been using the place for more storage—and pigeons had been using the place to roost. They carried out boxes, broken equipment, axes, shovels missing handles, and more junk than anyone should keep. Zach was careful not to mention falling on Lucy—or how near he’d come to kissing her. But he couldn’t stop sneaking glances when she bent over to lift something.

  Two hours later, Zach glanced at the pile of junk now outside the barn. “Doesn’t she throw anything away?”

  Lucy actually offered him a small smile. “Charlie can make all of this into stuff tourists will buy.”

  “Really?” He frowned. “You’re not just having me on.”

  “Would I do that?”

  “That and more,” he muttered. They repaired the broken stall dividers, and just after noon, Zach decided it was time for a break. “How about something to eat?” he asked.

  She glanced around. “You mean something other than moldy hay and composting straw?”

  He smiled. “I’ve set up an office in a trailer about a half mile down.”

  She followed him to the trailer. He’d brought it with him, and located it close enough to the fields that he could use it as both a place to take a break and a place to work—it was also the only spot on the farm that had any kind of cell phone reception. Gesturing for Lucy to have a seat, he headed into the kitchen area. “I’ve got a hoagie and beer? That okay?”

  “Letting me drink on the job? That’s pretty lenient of you, boss.”

  “You know, you could drop that joke anytime.”

  She smiled as she accepted the bottle from him. “So we never did talk about money.”

  He cut up the hoagie and pulled out some plates. “Is it always about money with you?”

  She stared at him. “What—you’ve got something against it?” She waved her beer bottle. “You have enough to lease this farm for a year.”

  “And...that’s enough to interest you is it?”

  She stiffened and snapped her beer down on the small table next to her. “Look, what I’m interested in is how much you’re paying. Charlie said top dollar, but if that means—”

  “Twenty an hour. The farm can’t afford your insurance, so you’ll have to carry your own.” He looked away from her as he took another long pull from his beer. He was a little disappointed to find out she was like most women—she’d have been all over him if she thought he had money. Better to keep this all business anyway.

  She stood up and stared at him, her green eyes round and big as if she was trying to figure him out. “That’ll do. Now if you don’t mind, I need to get my hours in for the day. What else is on the list?”

  They headed back to the barn, Zach eating his hoagie on the way. He left his beer behind. He needed an extra pair of hands, and until he could hire someone else, he’d have to make do with Lucy. He wanted to get an old tractor hauled off for scrap, but when he told Lucy that, she stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

  “Give me two hours with it—three maybe tops.”

  “What?”

  She stared at him. “You heard me. A ladder that’s a death trap you’ll keep, but you want to scrap this baby?” She waved at the tractor. It had more rust on it than paint. “This...” She slapped a wheel. “It’s an International. It’ll run forever if you treat her right.”

  “How do you know?”

  She smiled. “I’ve been working on cars since I was ten. Go... go walk fences or whatever else you need to do.” She disappeared into the barn. He heard the sounds of metal on metal so she had to be rummaging for parts or tools. With a shrug, he took her advice. He had to check fences—the neighbor’s cows would make short work of any alfalfa he put in if he had a break. And he had irrigation pipes to check on. Charlie said she had them, but if they were like that ladder, he might have to buy new.

  Two hours later—well, more like two and a half—he came back to see black smoke belching from the tractor. Lucy sat in the seat, grinning, her faced smudged with oil. “See, what did I tell you!” she yelled over the engine.

  She drove it into the barn, cut off the engine and came out, wiping her stained fingers on a rag. “Charlie must have left it out for a couple of years. The seat’s pretty damp still.” She turned and shook her butt at him. He didn’t even notice the dampness on her jeans—just that tight butt.

  She turned back. Lifting a hand, he wiped the oil from her face. “You’re dirty.”

  She pulled back. “Nothing wrong with hard work or a little dirt.”

  “Didn’t say there was—but it’s quitting time. Gonna be dark soon enough.”

  “But I could—”

  “Boss says it’s quitting time, it’s quitting time.”

  She muttered something about lazy bosses and set off down the road in front of him. She called back, “I’m billing for the walking hours!”

  He grinned. They found Charlie on the porch, waiting with lemonade and fresh oatmeal cookies. Holding up the plate, she asked, “How was your first day?”

  Zach held up a hand. “Fine enough. But if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower and take care of some things in town.”

  “Buy a ladder you mean?” Lucy asked. She looked at him, all innocence. “And maybe pay your employee.” She held out a hand.

  He pulled out his wallet and took out enough twenties to cover her for the day. She’d made a cool hundred and sixty.”

  “Yeah, that too.” He headed inside. And he didn’t know if he wanted to strangle that girl for her smart mouth and money-grubbing attitude, or kiss her for having the nerve to keep going toe-to-toe with him. Either way, she was at least going to make his stay interesting.

  Chapter Four

  Lucy knew she should go shower—and lighten up on Zach. Instead she tucked the cash into a pocket, sat down on the porch swing and picked up a cookie. “Sure felt good to be outside working again, Charlie.”

  Charlie sat in the rocking chair next to the swing. “Don’t give me that. I know what you’re thinking. And I’m thinkin’ you’re crazy to be handing over your money to Martino like that.”

  Finishing the cookie, she brushed the crumbs from her fingers. “I am not draggin’ anyone else into it. And you know I need to give him something on faith. It wouldn’t be a good thing for me or my mother if I didn’t.” Getting up, she put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “I’ll get out of th
is yet.”

  “Your daddy better be rottin’ in hell for how he left you.”

  “Let’s hope,” Lucy said. She went around the back to the back bedroom. A hot shower and clean clothes left her feeling better—almost optimistic. But her insides jittered, just like they always did when she had to make a payment. She kept a twenty back for herself, and tucked the rest into an envelope. She always tried to make this more business-like than it was.

  Fluffing out her hair, she put on earrings and headed for her truck. It complained, just like always, but started. One of these weekends she was going to have to break it down and give it more than the promise of a tune-up. She still had the sun up as she drove to Martino’s casino on the other side of town.

  The casino stood on Indian land, but Martino ran the place. On the outside, it looked almost more like a luxury hotel. Bright lights and clean lines, clay-colored stucco and a few pines and palms scattered around. The place had to pay a lot to keep the ground looking good and green.

  Stepping inside, the noise of the slot machines hit her. She pulled in a breath and headed for the office. A dark-haired woman glanced at her, eyebrows raised, and Lucy asked, “Is Martino in?”

  The woman shook her head.

  “Can I leave a message?”

  The woman shrugged. Lucy hated to leave the cash, so she scribbled a note, asked for another envelope and sealed it. She wrote Martino’s name on the outside. At least he’d know she intended to make good on her daddy’s debts—she’d clear his name if it was the last thing she did.

  Heading back to the front doors, she caught sight of a familiar pair of broad shoulders. She ducked behind a bank of slot machines and angled for a better look—was that Zach?

  Before she could make up her mind, a man in a suit—security to judge by the crew cut, the suit that didn’t cover all of his muscles, and the ear piece showing—stopped next to her. “Something I can help you with, miss?”

  Smiling, she shook her head and started for the exit again. Outside, she leaned against the building and sucked in fresh air. So Zach liked to gamble. Well, so much for the hardworking-man image she’d had going for him. He was another drifter just looking for the fast score. She kicked herself for having saved him twice now—she should have let Sid glass him or let Zach brain himself off that ladder. Maybe she’d never learn when it came to saving others.