“I don’t plan to be able to move afterward.”
She breathed a mock, drawn-out sigh. “If you think I’ll wear you out…”
“Is that a challenge?”
She gave a teasing half smile and rapidly blinked her lashes.
In return, he planted a playful swat on her buttocks. “You’re on, sweetheart.”
Amber stifled a yawn in the bright, midday sunshine, stretching her taut thigh muscles as she leaned on the railing of the ranch house deck. The puppies were below, chasing each other and rolling around on the meadow that sloped toward the river. Off the end of the deck, Amber could see the ranch hands putting up five giant tents in preparation for Saturday’s barbecue and barn dance.
She was dividing her time between the Sagittarius Eclipse mystery and the barbecue. She’d never planned an event quite like this before. They’d hired a local band. Hamburgers and hot dogs were making up the main course, while salads, potato chips and condiments seemed to round out the rest. They had plans for a giant cake for dessert, with papers plates, soft drinks and canned beer all around.
Amber wasn’t sure how the Ryder International executives would react to the dinner, though she was sure their kids would love the wagon rides, horseshoes and baseball game Stephanie had planned. When she’d broached the possibility of steaks, wine and real china with Sasha, the woman looked at her as though she’d lost her mind.
Okay, so they did corporate entertaining a little differently here in Montana. Amber could conform. And at least the event wasn’t likely to damage the Ryder International bottom line.
Tucking her windblown hair behind one ear, she pressed the on button of her cell phone, and dialed Katie’s work number.
“Katie Merrick,” came the familiar voice.
“It’s Amber.”
“What? Finally! Have you gone stark raving mad?”
“You’ve been talking to my mom, haven’t you?”
“Of course I’ve been talking to your mom. And your dad. And Hargrove. You’ve got him completely confused.”
“I thought I cleared up the confusion yesterday.”
“By breaking it off over the phone?” The accusation was clear in Katie’s tone.
“I’m a little ways away, Katie.”
“Where?”
Amber scratched her fingernail over a dried flower petal the rain had stuck to the painted railing, deciding she couldn’t keep it a secret forever. “Montana.”
Silence.
“Katie?”
“Did you say Montana?”
“Yes. I’m staying with a…well, friend. I need your help with something.”
“I’d say you need a whole lot more than my help. The dress arrived yesterday.”
“What dress?”
“Your wedding dress.” Katie’s voice was incredulous. “The one from Paris. The one with antique alençon lace and a thousand hand-sewn pearls.”
“Oh.” Right. That dress. Amber supposed they’d have to put it on consignment somewhere. “The thing I wanted to talk to you about at the moment, though, was business.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have a problem.”
“What problem?” Katie’s voice immediately turned professional.
“It’s a company called Sagittarius Eclipse. I haven’t been able to trace it, but I think it’s got to be offshore somewhere, maybe hiding behind a numbered company. It could be connected to embezzlement.”
There was another moment’s silence. “Where did you say you were?” asked Katie.
Amber drew a sigh. “You remember that thirty dollars I gave you last week?”
“To pay for the dry cleaning on my dress?”
“You’re on retainer, Katie. I’m a client.”
“What is going on?”
“Lawyer-client confidentiality. Say it.”
“Lawyer-client confidentiality,” Katie parroted with exasperation.
“I think Sagittarius Eclipse is involved in an embezzlement scheme against Ryder International.”
“Montana.” Katie drew out the word in a triumphant voice, obviously making the connection with Amber’s father’s business.
Fine by Amber, she’d rather have Katie connecting her to Jared Ryder than to Royce. Even thinking his name brought up an image of last night, and Amber was forced to shake it away in order to concentrate.
“You going into my line of work?” asked Katie.
Creighton Waverley Security was famous in Chicago for specializing in corporate espionage, and they’d investigated plenty of other corporate crimes along the way.
“Just for the week.” Though Amber could already see the appeal of the profession. The harder she looked for information, the more involved she became in the hunt.
“You looking for anything specific?”
“A bank account. A name. A guy named McQuestin might be involved.”
Although Royce was sure McQuestin was honest, Amber wasn’t prepared to rule anything out. She’d looked back as far as she could in the financial records this morning, and Sagittarius Eclipse had received millions over the years. Maybe McQuestin hadn’t even broken his leg. Maybe he was on his way to some offshore haven even now.
“I’ll see what I can find. And, Amber?”
“Yes?”
“You serious about this breakup?”
Amber didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Why?”
Good question. Hard to put into words. “He’s just not the right guy for me.”
Katie’s accusing tone was back. “When did he become not the right guy for you?”
“Katie.”
“When he made his first million? When he bought you a three-carat diamond? When he received the party nod for the nomination? Or when he planned the honeymoon to Tahiti?”
“Hargrove planned a honeymoon to Tahiti?” It was the first Amber had heard about it.
“Yes! Just last night he was showing me some—”
“You saw Hargrove last night?”
There was a small pause. “He was desperate, Amber. He needed a date for that hospital thing with the Myers.”
“You went on a date with Hargrove?”
“Of course not.” But there was something in Katie’s tone. “He couldn’t show up stag, and I’ve met Belinda Myers before, so…”
Amber rolled the image of Katie and Hargrove around in her head. No problem for her. She really didn’t care. “Did you have a good time?” she asked.
“That’s not the point.”
Royce appeared in Amber’s peripheral vision, on horseback, moving along the river trail between the staff cabins and the barbecue setup. Even at this distance, the sight of him took her breath away.
“Gotta go,” she said to Katie. “Call me as soon as you find something.”
“Uh…Okay, sure.”
“Thanks, Katie. I miss you.” Amber quickly signed off.
Royce spotted her, and the sizzle of his gaze shot right to her toes. He turned his horse toward the house, and she headed for the deck’s staircase.
Glances and brief, public conversations were all Royce had managed to share with Amber throughout the day. So he was disappointed when he finally found her up at the jumping-horse outfit, and she was sitting on the front porch laughing with his sister and another man.
As he exited the pickup truck, Royce’s first thought was that Hargrove had found her. The idea tightened his gut and sped up his stride. She certainly seemed happy to see this guy. She was listening to him with rapt attention, smiling, even laughing.
“Royce,” Stephanie sang out as his boot hit the bottom stair. Amber glanced up, and the stranger twisted his head.
Royce immediately realized the man was too young to be Hargrove. Plus, he was wearing jumping clothes, not a business suit.
“Wesley, this is my brother, Royce. Wesley is our newest student. He was nationally ranked as a junior.”
The young man stood up as Royce trotted up the remaining stairs.
“Good to meet you,” Royce said with a hearty handshake, ignoring how relieved he felt that the guy wasn’t Hargrove. Wesley looked to be about twenty-one. Not much younger than Stephanie and Amber, but no immediate competition.
“You, too.” Wesley nodded. “I’m honored to be working with Stephanie.”
Royce smirked at his sister. “Well, we’ll see how honored you feel a month from now.”
“Hey,” she protested, reaching out to swat his arm.
“Can I grab you a beer?” Wesley offered, nodding to a cooler against the wall. “I picked up a dozen at a microbrewery in San Diego.”
“Thanks,” Royce agreed, and the younger man headed for the far side of the porch.
“I’ve got something for you,” Amber stage-whispered, and Royce’s attention shot immediately to her dancing eyes.
His chest tightened, and he wondered if she was going to proposition him right here in front of Stephanie. Not that it would be a bad thing. They’d seemed to come to a tacit agreement to keep their relationship secret. But there was no real reason to do that. They were both adults. She’d officially broken off her engagement. They were entitled to date each other if they wanted.
“Sagittarius Eclipse,” she said, and he realized his brain had gone completely off on the wrong track. “I have a name.”
“Yeah?” He pushed an empty deck chair into the circle.
“Norman Stanton.”
Royce froze, brain scrambling while Amber kept talking.
“He’s an American, originally from the Pacific North—”
“Later,” Royce barked.
Amber drew back, squinting at his expression.
He moderated his voice, forcing a smile when he realized Stephanie was staring at him in confusion. “I want to hear how things are coming with the barbecue.”
Then he nodded to Wesley as he returned with the beer. “Thanks,” he told him. “So, are you training for any competition in particular?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Amber was confused, probably hurt, but there was nothing he could do about that at the moment. He pretended to listen to Wesley’s answer, while his mind reeled.
Stanton. Damn it. A name out of his worst nightmare. After all these years, they were being blackmailed by a Stanton?
How much did the bastard know? How long had he known it? And why the hell hadn’t his grandfather or McQuestin told him before now?
Eight
Amber waited until they’d passed the lights of Stephanie’s yard and were headed down the dark, ranch driveway before turning to Royce in the pickup truck. “What did I do?”
“Nothing.” But his answer was terse, and she could tell he was upset. Their speed was increasing on the bumpy road, and she gripped the armrest to stabilize herself.
“I don’t understand. It’s good information. I don’t know if you realize how hard I had to dig—”
“Where did you get it? Where did you come up with the name Stanton?”
“Katie found a bank account in the Cayman Islands.”
Royce hit her with a hard glance, staring a bit too long for safety. “Who’s Katie?”
“Watch the road,” she admonished as a curve rushed up at them in the headlights.
He glanced back, but only long enough to crank the wheel. “Who is Katie?”
“She’s my best friend, my maid of honor.”
“I thought you weren’t getting married.”
“I’m not getting married.” Amber took a breath. “She would have been my maid of honor. She’s a lawyer. Her firm specializes in corporate espionage, but they investigate all kinds of criminal activity.”
Royce’s voice went dark. “McQuestin is not a criminal.”
“I never said he was.”
“You had no right to disparage a man’s name—”
“I didn’t disparage anything. Katie’s my friend. She works for Creighton Waverley Security, and she’s our lawyer now. Everything she finds out is confidential.”
Royce didn’t answer, but she could almost hear his teeth gritting above the roar of the engine and the creak of the steel frame as the truck took pothole after pothole.
“Who is Stanton?” she dared.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel, face stony in the dim dashboard lights. “Nobody you need to worry about.”
Something inside Amber shriveled tight. She’d felt so close to Royce last night. Between lovemaking, they’d shared whispered stories, opinions, worldviews. She’d thought they were becoming friends.
“I have more,” she told him, not above bribery.
“What else?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Who’s Stanton?”
Royce glared at her. It was the first time she’d had his true anger directed at her. But she stiffened her spine. “Who is Stanton?”
“Forget it.”
“Why? Why won’t you let me help you?”
He geared down for a hill. “There are things you don’t understand.”
“No kidding.”
“No offence, Amber. But I barely know you.”
“No offence, Royce. But you’ve seen me naked.”
“And that’s relevant how?”
“I’m just saying—”
“That it’s not about to happen again unless I talk?”
“You think I’d use sex to bribe you?”
He let go of the steering wheel long enough for a jerking hand gesture of frustration. “Why do you jump to the absolute worst interpretation?”
“I’m trying to understand you.”
“Well, I’m not having the slightest success understanding you.” He sucked in a deep breath.
She let a few beats go by in silence, forcing herself to calm down. In her mind, this argument was completely separate from any future sexual relationship. She moderated her voice. “Maybe if you told me what was going on.”
“Maybe if you let me keep my private business private.”
Okay, now that crack would probably impact on their future sexual relationship.
“Fine,” she huffed. “There’s this numbered holding company.” She pulled a note from her pocket and checked it in the dim light. “One-four-nine-five-eight, twelve-zero-ninety-three is registered in Liechtenstein with bank accounts in Liechtenstein, Switzerland and Grand Cayman. Its only asset is a company called Eastern Exploration Holdings. Eastern Exploration owns several parcels of property, mostly in the Bahamas. It also owns one company, Sagittarius Eclipse. One-four-nine-five-eight, twelve-zero-ninety-three is solely owned by Norman Stanton.”
The truck rocked to a halt in front of the ranch house.
“His last known address was in Boston, Massachusetts,” Amber finished.
Royce killed the lights and turned the key, shutting down the engine. “You don’t know where he is now?”
“Not yet.” She yanked up on the door handle, and the door creaked wide.
“But you’re looking?” Royce followed suit.
“We’re looking,” said Amber, sliding off the high bench seat and onto the dirt driveway. She’d taken to wearing a pair of tattered, flat, canvas runners she’d found in a closet by the back door. They weren’t as sturdy as the cowboy boots favored by everyone else, but they beat the heck out of the high heels she’d arrived in.
“How long will it take?” he asked as they headed for the porch.
“I don’t know.” Her voice was still testy.
Royce frowned at her.
“It’ll take as long as it takes. He could be hiding. He might have left the country.” She headed up the stairs. “Maybe someone warned him McQuestin was hurt, and he’s worried he’ll get caught.”
“Who would warn him McQuestin was hurt?”
Amber paused at the front door. “Maybe McQuestin.”
Royce turned the knob and shoved open the door. “McQuestin wouldn’t do that.”
She walked inside. “You’re putting a lot of faith in a man who’s bee
n authorizing secret payments.”
“He has his reasons.” The door slammed shut, and Royce moved up close.
Amber turned, then drew back from the intensity in his eyes.
He moved closer.
She stepped back again, coming up against the wall in the foyer.
He braced a hand on either side of her, dipping his head.
“Royce?”
“Yeah?” He kissed her, and her protest was muffled against his mouth.
He kissed her again, softer, deeper, and a flame of desire curled to life in the pit of her belly.
His hands cupped her chin, deepening the kiss, pressing his strong body flush against hers, evoking near-blinding memories of the night before.
“What are you doing?” she finally gasped.
“It’s not obvious?” There was a thread of laughter deep in his throat, his warm breath puffing against her skin.
“No.”
“Makeup sex.”
“But I’m still mad at you.”
“You are?” He feigned surprise as he kissed her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder. He found the strip of bare skin at the top of her jeans, skimming his knuckles across her navel. “Then let’s see what we can do to change that.”
Royce feathered his fingertips across Amber’s stomach, the narrowing at her waist, the indentation of her navel and the small curve of her belly. Her skin was pale and supple, a light tan line at bikini level, barely above where the sheet covered her legs.
She was by far the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her blond hair, mussed at the moment, was thick and lustrous, reflecting the pink rays of the rising sun. Her eyes were deep blue, a midsummer sky right now, but they’d been jewel bright last night while they made love. Her lips were full, deep red and tempting.
Even her ears were gorgeous, delicate and small, while her neck was graceful, her shoulders smooth, and her breasts were something out of his deepest fantasy. Add to that her quick wit, her intelligence and her sense of fun, and she was somebody he could keep in his bed for days on end.
He’d had sex with plenty of women over the years, slept with only some of them, ate breakfast with fewer still. And in all that time, he’d never had an urge to bare his soul to a single one.
Now, he did.
In Bed with the Wrangler Page 10
