by Claire Marti
Bam. The phone rang again. What the hell?
“This better be an emergency or I’ll make it one.” She grumbled, snatched up her phone, and did a double take.
No, it wasn’t her reflection, but her mirror image calling on Facetime. At 3:42 a.m.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” She attempted to soften the snarl, but at this hour, she didn’t have her usual impeccable self-control. Ha.
“Isn’t it around 6 a.m.? When you usually get up?” Dylan offered a sheepish smile. “Did I wake you up?”
“It’s 3:42 a.m., so yes, you did.” Brilliant blue sky, explosions of scarlet, pale pink, and lilac flowers framed her sister like she was the center of a colorful portrait. “Where are you?”
“I’m over in the Luxembourg Gardens and just had the most delicious ham and cheese baguette. With butter and these little cornichon pickles. The food here is amazing—you’d be in heaven. Boulangeries and Patisseries on every block, and I swear they blow the smells out onto the street to tempt you inside.” Dylan’s words flooded out in a rush.
“Did you call me at 4 a.m. to tell me about the food in Paris? Seriously?” She didn’t bother to cover her mouth when she yawned.
Her sister frowned. “No, of course not. I miss you. Won’t you come visit me? Just for a week?”
Something was up. Sam huffed out a breath, punched her pillow again and propped herself into a half-seated position.
“What’s going on? You’re with Lily and I know you two have a blast together. You can’t possibly be bored of Paris. The museums, the artists, the cafes––I don’t understand.” So much for getting any more sleep tonight. More like this morning. Her sister needed to talk this out.
“Paris is incredible, but it would be so much more incredible if you were with me. Aren’t you ready to get out of there?” Dylan’s eyes widened. “And what’s going on, you ask? I had a message from dad to call him, but I wanted to talk to you first.”
Sam bit her lip. She filled in Dylan on her dad’s momentous decision.
“What? He’s never talked about directing once in the last ten years. Not once.” Dylan’s face had paled and panic threaded her usually melodic voice.
“Calm down. He really misses it.” She shook her head. “I had no idea. Movies were his first love and he gave it all up to protect us. Seeing his face made me understand he not only lost mom, but the career he’d built.”
“What if he loves it and wants to sell the ranch and move back to LA, then what? And what about Angela? What did she say? She’d hate Hollywood.”
“He’s not going to sell the ranch. Their life is here. Our life is here. And Angela believes in him and trusts him. It can’t be easy for her to live in the specter of mom’s shadow.” She’d stand by her father. His pain and his excitement had been palpable. He loved the horses and the business and the ranch, but movies were in his blood.
Dylan looked away and remained silent.
“Dylan?” Her sister could be stubborn.
She sighed. “Okay. You’ve got a point. I’m just shocked though. I had no idea he missed it. He’s never said anything…”
“I feel a little guilty now, to tell you the truth. He probably never mentioned it on purpose.”
“It all feels like a soap opera. Speaking of drama––have you been able to avoid the thorn-in-your-side stuntman?”
A warm flush crept up her cheeks. “He’s not a thorn in my side.” Busted.
“Ooooooh, now you like him? Do tell.” Dylan grinned. Her twin’s moods could flip minute to minute. At least she’d distracted her sister.
“It’s not a big deal.” She crossed the fingers on one hand. This white lie business was becoming a habit. “I’ve just gotten to know him a little better and he’s making up for the negative first impression a bit. He’s not so bad.” She crossed her toes.
Dylan pursed her lips and made smooching sounds. “Oooh la la. Is that why you don’t want to come to Paris? Kissing the sexy stuntman?”
“Well…” She paused and adjusted the duvet cover. Avoided looking into the phone. She’d never been able to prevaricate with her twin.
Dylan jolted up straighter on the ornate black wrought iron bench. “Wait, I was just joking around. You kissed him? What?”
“Well, it just happened last night. I was going for a swim and he was there and then somehow I was telling him about how awful it was in L.A. after mom died and he was so sensitive and understanding.” Nope, definitely couldn’t keep secrets from her sister.
“You told him about mom?” Dylan’s mouth dropped open.
“I know. I know. I can’t explain it to you, but yes. And then I guess I cried––” Anytime she could shut her pie hole would be great.
Dylan’s eyes practically popped out of her head. “You cried in front of him? You never cry.”
Sam closed her eyes and instantly a vision of the archangel Holt flashed behind her lids. How had everything changed so quickly? “I don’t know. I saw the trailers being unloaded yesterday morning and it brought it all back. Those years of being on set with mom, the accident, the frickin’ paparazzi, the move. Like a waterfall thundering down on me. Then dad’s bombshell just sent me over the edge. I can’t seem to catch up. I figured I’d swim it out when I heard a noise and he was creeping away with his guitar–––”
“Oh no. The set? Oh Sam, I’m sorry I ran away and left you to deal with this all on your own.” Dylan sighed.
“Amanda’s here. Everyone’s here. The horses help, but I won’t lie. I do miss you.”
“I miss you too, which is why you should come here. Back to this kissing business. I thought you despised him. How did you end up kissing?”
“I don’t know. He wiped away my tear and then the next thing you know I’m on his lap and we were steaming up the chaise lounge.”
“You didn’t…?” Her sister’s brows were getting a regular workout, what with all the flying up and down on her forehead.
“No, of course I didn’t.” Although ripping off his clothes and making love on the lounge chair had seemed like an excellent idea for a hot minute. “Don’t be silly. It was just a few kisses.”
Dylan shook her head. “Well, he is gorgeous. And he plays the guitar? That’s dreamy. And he was kind to you? Even so, I’m just afraid it’s all too complicated and you’d probably kill each other.”
“Complicated is right. I’m just going to take this day-by-day. He’ll be gone when the movie is over and I get the impression he lives out of a suitcase. So, there’s nothing to worry about.” Why did the thought of not seeing his gorgeous smirking face again create a tiny ache in her chest?
“Right. Nothing to worry about. You don’t need a broken heart from a guy who probably seduces a woman on every set and leaves without a backward glance. Like a rock star on tour.”
“Whoa, where did that come from? He’s a good guy, Dylan.” He might not have roots, but he wasn’t a player. Was he?
“Defending him again. I was just testing you. You like him.” Her twin looked like the cat that’d swallowed the cream. Did she look equally obnoxious when she was being a smartass? Ugh.
“Yeah, I like him. But I’m a big girl. If we end up having a fling and he leaves, what’s the big deal? I can handle it.” Why did the words feel forced?
Ha, because she was full of crap. She had no clue if she could handle it. Or him. Maybe their attraction would dwindle.
“Okay. If you say so. I still think you need to come visit me.” Her sister’s mischievous smile faded.
“Well, were you calling just about dad’s message or is something else going on? Are you just homesick?” Time to turn the tables and put her sister on the witness stand.
“I’m fine. Just feeling emotional, that’s all. This city epitomizes romance and beauty and although my painting is going well, sometimes I wish I had a handsome Frenchman to walk arm in arm with along the Seine.”
“I’m sure you could meet someone in a heartbeat if you l
ooked. Why don’t you and Lily go out? There are a million cafes and clubs there.”
It was her sister’s turn to shrug. “Maybe. But I want love at first sight. I don’t want to look. I want my knight in shining armor to find me. Like Holt found you in the breeding shed.” She chuckled.
“I wouldn’t call him a knight in shining armor. And definitely not love at first sight.” Sam shook her head. What was all this talk of love? More like pure lust.
“Whatever you say. Okay, I’m meeting Lily and need to run. Keep me up to date on everything.”
“You too. Love you.”
After they hung up, Sam tossed off her royal blue comforter and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. No way she could fall asleep now. A few gallons of coffee would have to fuel her through the day. At least it was off-season. Not that she didn’t enjoy visiting the young foals and their moms out in the pastures now, but nothing beat the excitement of breeding season.
Between January and July she often worked from 5:30 a.m. to 11:00 p.m., depending upon how many mares they were foaling out, how many requests for Hercules’ progeny needed processing, and how many million other tiny little details she needed to handle. God, she missed it.
Her life was perfect. Well, it had been before Holt stepped into her barn. Would he be down at the stables early?
She hurried toward the bathroom to shower and go for a ride. If Holt happened to be there, well…
16
Sam slid out of the quiet house as dawn was breaking in streaks of rose and tangerine across the sky. Early morning was one of her favorite times, when the world seemed pristine and clean and innocent. Her boots crunched along the dew-covered grass and she grinned as she surveyed the beauty of her ranch. Even though it was summer, the mornings were cool and crisp and every single branch, leaf, and flower looked perfect. She hummed as she approached the large stable.
“Hello, beautiful girl, did you sleep well? Blink once for yes, twice for no.” She crooned to Princess Buttercup, who blinked once and tossed her silky mane.
“I didn’t sleep a wink, but I feel amazing. It’s going to be a perfect day.” Sam led her horse out and saddled her. Maybe one day Buttercup would reply. She was brilliant, as well as beautiful.
She mounted and trotted out toward the pastures to check on the mares and foals. Then, she’d ensure everything was going smoothly down on the movie set. Running into Holt would be a bonus.
If someone had told her she’d be embarking on a fling with the obnoxious idiot who’d mocked her tease mare, she would have laughed until her sides ached. She’d assumed he was a callous, cocky jerk. Not that she was overly sensitive, no; she was accustomed to being the only woman in the man’s world of horse breeding. Her skin was thick as a rhino’s and she could joke with the best of them, even when the humor was lowbrow. She was one of the guys––Sam McNeill.
Somehow Holt saw beyond the surface. He’d recognized her dancer’s soul. Most people didn’t have a clue. She liked the fact he was confident enough in his masculinity to go to ballet. Most men couldn’t or wouldn’t even try. Certainly nobody else she had dated.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Dated?
They were most definitely not dating. They’d argued. She’d taken him tamales and watched him scarf them down. Then gotten angry at his aloof attitude. He’d shared dinner with her family, and she’d barely glanced at him across the table. Then, he’d kissed her so passionately her head had practically exploded off her body.
Definitely not dating.
What were they doing? They’d been circling each other since the first moment he’d stepped into her barn and now what? Where was this unexpected dance leading?
She slowed Buttercup down and brushed her fingers across her lips, still tender and slightly swollen from his kisses. Her eyes closed and she gave a dreamy sigh. Those kisses.
On one level she knew it was dangerous to get involved with him because she could already tell the pull toward him wasn’t simply physical. Whatever it was between them didn’t feel casual. His strength, his kindness, and his protectiveness had earned her respect. But from the minute he’d stepped into her barn, her orderly routine had been disrupted.
But, he was a nomad; each new movie set his temporary home. She was permanently rooted to her beloved ranch, her horses, the land, the way of life. All of it.
Why would she ever leave? What would she do? Where would she go? She shook her head because it didn’t matter. He’d leave and she never would.
He’d tilted her world on its axis and there was no going back. Why was she fighting the attraction? He was on her turf now, however temporary the status. They wanted each other. They were both adults. No strings attached. They would keep it simple. And she’d never been attracted to anyone like this before. Where was the harm in that?
Mind made up, she gave Buttercup free rein and galloped along, savoring the crisp morning air against her skin. Her horse whinnied in pleasure; she always loved to run fast, especially in the quiet early morning hours. When Sam reached the crest of the green hill above the movie set, she gasped at the transformation from twenty-four hours ago. More trailers had arrived, and the crew must have been working nonstop because they’d transformed part of the area into an old-fashioned wood ranch house, complete with a split rail fence, bales of hay, and a few grazing horses. No longer one of the simple Pacific Vista Ranch pastures, the area looked like an authentic homestead from the Wild West.
A Western epic––her dad loved period pieces and making the past come to life. Maybe this explained her dad’s fascination with the film and his desire to participate.
Nobody was stirring yet and she peeked at her enormous diver’s style watch. It wasn’t even 6 a.m. Movies started early, but today wasn’t scheduled as a full filming day as far as she knew.
Buttercup’s ears pricked a split second before the sound of hooves reached Sam’s ears. Warmth crept up her cheeks and her toes curled in her Frye boots when she turned and saw Holt and Rocco’s approach. Her lips tingled, would he kiss her again?
“Good morning, Sam.” Holt’s eyes were shadowed under the brim of his fawn-colored cowboy hat and his voice was flat.
“Hey. Um, you’re up early.” She smiled and angled toward him. Was that the best she could do? Hadn’t she decided to seduce him? Have a fling?
“Yeah, shooting starts at 5:30 a.m. tomorrow so I’m just adjusting to being up early.” He sat ramrod straight in the saddle, his gaze locked on the faux ranch house.
“Did you sleep okay?” Her smile faded and she bit her lip.
“Yeah, never better. It’s so quiet out here. Slept like a baby.” He still hadn’t looked at her. He could be talking to himself.
“Well, good for you.” She gritted her teeth. Like a baby? Was he kidding? She hadn’t slept a wink.
He looked at her for the first time since he’d ridden up next to her, one golden eyebrow quirked. “What’s wrong with you this morning? Is there a problem out here already?”
“No, no problem at all.” Her fingers dug into the leather reins and she tamped down the pit forming in her gut. They had shared mind-blowing kisses last night and if she hadn’t stopped him, neither of them would have slept a wink. He’d been rock hard and ready to go and now he could barely look at her?
“Oh, good. Seriously, it will be like we aren’t even here. Your ranch will be left good as new when we’re done.” He smiled, a friendly stranger.
Who was this bland guy? Where was the sensitive listener? The passionate kisser? Had she dreamed the scene by the pool last night?
“Great. Well, I need to go. See you later.” She wheeled Buttercup around and retreated back toward the stables. No way in hell would she allow him to see his indifference bothered her.
Dylan had been right this morning––he probably had an affair on every movie set. So why was he acting as if nothing happened? Seriously? She’d never experienced anything like last night and here he was, nonchalant and
unaffected. The bastard. Her first impression was right. As usual.
Fine. Two could play at that game. She’d be polite and cool and calm. If he could run hot and cold, so could she.
17
Nice going, way to be friendly. Holt rubbed the back of his neck and cursed. Samantha disappeared over the top of the hill; her spine stiff, unlike her customary relaxed riding posture. Damn it. He’d pulled out every iota of his non-existent acting talent to pretend like she was just a kid sister or buddy, but came across more like a rude ass.
But it was the right thing to do. His number one priority was a successful movie shoot and no way would he jeopardize his future because some woman happened to be fascinating. When did she morph from irritating to intriguing? Damn inconvenient.
When Harry offered him the opportunity to make an investment, and technically become a producer, he’d known he would take the risk and sink his hard-earned savings he’d accumulated over the years into this film. Not only was Harry paying him a pretty penny for the stunt work, but he was also offering him his big break.
Instead of saving for another three to five years, he could retire from the career that only became more grueling by the production. Or lose everything. The pretty penny wasn’t simply extra lining for his bank account; it represented the last contribution to finalize his investment in his new business. His future. His mom’s future. His sister’s future.
Yes, Samantha stirred him in ways he’d never experienced, but compartmentalizing was one of his major talents.
He’d been doing it his whole life.
Under her tough shell, she had a tender heart. She deserved a man who would be relationship material. As his last girlfriend had very justly informed him, he was a drifter who should stick to casual encounters. Harsh but true.
Although once he started his new business, he wouldn’t have to travel like a rock star anymore. Regardless, he wouldn’t be settling down on Pacific Vista Ranch. And Samantha McNeill belonged on this ranch.
