Lasso That Cowboy

by Lynde Lakes

  “You make me sound like a lecherous Romeo.”

  “Quite the opposite. I know you, Luke. You wouldn’t want to take advantage of a wonderful señorita like Amber, a woman your niña loves very much.”

  Luke groaned. “Okay. You hit your message home—in spades.” So much for the romance he’d planned after the moonlight walk. “When will you discharge Amber?”

  “She may leave, if she wishes, right after I give her the shot in the morning.”

  “What kind of results can we expect?”

  “The shots may speed the return of memory. However, there are no guarantees. Try to keep her happy and relaxed. Tension is her enemy.”

  ****

  An hour later in De La Fuente’s formal dining room, the maid served an excellent dinner of broiled carne asada on roasted garlic mashed potatoes with peppers and braised onions. Wonderful aromas wafted around the room. Soft violin music played in the background. The doctor sat at the head of the table with his daughter, Carmen, at his side. Luke seated himself at the other end of the oval table flanked by Amber and Alicia. The butler had removed the table extensions to bring the guests and host within easy conversation distance. Candlelight flickered around the little group, the dim glow gentling features and relaxing the mood.

  Because the doctor knew of Luke’s past problem with alcohol, he served a special white grape punch rather than wine. It was probably the first time wine hadn’t been served in the doctor’s home in years. Luke appreciated his thoughtfulness but hated to deprive others.

  “Excellent punch,” Amber said. “Are the grapes from your vineyard?”

  De La Fuente gave a wide, gracious smile. “But of course. What else would I serve?”

  “If you’d like the recipe,” Carmen said, “I’d be glad to give you a copy.”

  Amber and Carmen discussed punch recipes, and then the conversation turned to Carmen and her father working as a doctor-nurse team.

  Carmen smiled. “I see Papa more now than I ever did growing up. Mama died when I was very young, and I expected Papa to fill both jobs.” She put her hand on her father’s and looked at him with affection in her large, expressive brown eyes. “He did very well, considering he had to run a practice and the vineyard. But I always wanted more of his time. Now I have my dream.”

  Alicia’s eyes widened, taking in all the adult conversation. Luke could almost see the wheels turning in her head. He hoped all the talk about losing a mother wasn’t upsetting her.

  He gave her a hug. “You okay, Rosebud?”

  She gave a wistful smile and nodded.

  Amber turned to the doctor. “You never remarried?”

  “No. But I’m not a confirmed bachelor. If the right opportunity ever presents itself…” He glanced at Luke. “How is your charming mother?”

  Mention of his mother jolted Luke like a right cross to the jaw. The doctor had visited the ranch several times in the last six months, but Luke had thought he was there to see Matt. Now, he wondered. “She’s well. Making a new life for herself on the ranch.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about the doctor talking about the right opportunity and his mother in the same breath.

  Luke caught Amber’s gaze. “Mom and Dad had moved to Florida,” he explained, “but after his fatal heart attack she returned to the ranch to be with family.”

  “Perhaps I could be of some assistance to your mother,” De La Fuente said. “I know firsthand how devastating losing a loved one can be.”

  Luke knew it three times over—his dad, his eldest brother, Parker, and Connie Lou—all dead within the span of two years. The whole family shared the losses and consoled each other. What would Mom need Señor De La Fuente for? Then Luke’s Texas hospitality kicked in. “Of course, you’re welcome at the ranch anytime.”

  A small smile crossed the doctor’s face, and he bowed his head a fraction. “Most gracious of you,” he said.

  Luke felt a weight lift from his shoulders when Amber changed the subject to the vineyards and the doctor’s double life as grape grower and medical man. Everyone steered clear of any talk of Amber’s amnesia. But the problem always lurked at the edges of Luke’s mind.

  Alicia was on her very best behavior. He’d bribed her with the promise that he’d let her sit in the copilot’s seat for a few minutes on the return trip if she was a very good girl.

  When the maid served a dessert of vanilla ice cream taco with fruit salsa, Alicia squealed in delight, “Oh, my favorite.”

  Luke laughed. “You act like you never have ice cream at home.”

  “Not ’nilla. You always get chocolate.”

  “From now on,” Luke said, “I’ll buy both. That’s a promise.”

  After the adults enjoyed their Brazilian espresso and withdrew from the dining room to find their own pleasures, Luke and Amber took Alicia for a walk. The child was full of chatter at first, but finally wound down.

  “I have some things to check out on the plane for our return trip tomorrow,” Luke said.

  “No problem.” Amber smiled and scooped Alicia into her arms. “I’ll get Alicia ready for bed and read to her for a while.” Amber’s eyes and voice softened. “Meet you in the garden in, say, two hours?”

  Luke groaned to himself. Rather than looking forward to being alone with her with lustful anticipation, he wondered how he’d hold his desire in check now that the doctor had spoiled his romantic plans. If he revealed the doctor’s warning, it would sound like he’d expected Amber to jump into bed with him. While that was what he’d like, it was way too forward for their situation. When they made love—and he hoped someday they would—he wanted it to be her move.

  In spite of the restrictions on his actions, Luke found himself counting the minutes until he would see her again. After he checked out the plane, he showered and yanked on his best black western gabardines. Then, he shrugged into a western-cut white dress shirt, plopped his Stetson on his head and headed out the door.

  In exactly two hours he was waiting at the entrance to the gardens. Amber was right on time. She wore a white, filmy, knee-length dress that seemed to float about her as she hurried down the stone path, her strappy sandals crunching against the stones. A flush of excitement radiated from her and touched him in ways he found impossible to ignore. He groaned as his control shredded. He was in big trouble.

  “I remember my boss’s name! Phillip Rhoades.” Her smile was wide, brilliant, as though someone had given her a wonderful gift. Her breasts rose and fell with her uneven breathing.

  His heart thudded crazily and he forced his gaze to a safer zone. He took her arm as they began to walk. The touch of her skin sent adrenaline charging through his veins. He paused and picked a rose bud from a nearby bush, a dark, lush red, the color of her lips. “To remembering.” His throat was so constricted he could barely get his words out. They came out husky.

  She put the bud to her nose and inhaled. “Thank you. But there’s more!” she said almost breathless. “I remember we traveled a lot. Even internationally. Paris, London, Japan. Mr. Rhoades liked my work, praised me all the time.” She paused and frowned. “Then something changed. A few hours before he was murdered, be began to question my ability to follow his instructions about a package I mailed to his sister.”

  Luke felt the fine hairs at the base of his neck prickle. “What was in the package?” he asked as they entered a rose-covered gazebo.

  “I don’t know. He sealed it himself.”

  Luke frowned. “Do you remember the address?”

  She shook her head and sighed. “I should. I addressed it for him before I mailed it. Maybe it’ll come.”

  He gave her arm a supportive squeeze. “You did fine. At least we have something to work with. We can backtrack from Rhoades to come up with your last name. No telling what we might learn from there.” He gave a humorless laugh. “Maybe those shots are worthwhile after all.”

  She smiled and looked into his eyes. “Thanks for getting help for me.” She leaned back against a low railing,
her arms spread wide, her hands gripping the rail. Her quickened breathing thrust her breasts against the thin, white fabric; her nipples poked at the cloth. Was her reaction just the excitement from remembering, or was she also responding to him as he was to her?

  He focused on her face. Near the pulse point of Amber’s temple, she wore a white gardenia. Luke restrained an urge to lean close and inhale its fragrance. It would bring him too close to her moist lips, and temptation.

  Drawn by lust and an instant of shredding control, Luke moved closer and covered her hand with his. The warmth of her skin seduced his fingers. He swallowed. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to heed the doctor’s warning. “Let’s walk some more.” He placed one of her delicate hands in the crook of his elbow and guided her deeper into gardens fragrant with the heady aroma of rose blossoms. Soft violin music came from the villa, sending magic into the breeze. They passed arbors of bougainvillea, moss green lawns, and entered a maze of gardenia hedges. He glanced down at his spit-polished boots—keep moving. Stopping would bring his dilemma to the forefront, and he wasn’t sure he’d be strong enough to handle his desire if he ever took her in his arms.

  Her shiver got to him, and the need to protect snapped a line of his tightly held restraint. “Cold?” he asked. Without waiting for her answer, or worrying about the consequences, he drew her in to the warmth of his body. Her body fit perfectly to his. She was firm, yet soft and womanly.

  “Just a little afraid,” she said with a waver in her voice.

  He tilted her head up to see her eyes. “Afraid of what?” He expected her to say the faceless killer, but she surprised him.

  “Of learning something that will ruin everything.” Her lips quivered.

  It was more than he could take. He tossed his Stetson on a lattice post and covered her warm, moist lips with his, seeking to give her his strength. Instead, he found her fire. She murmured in pleasure, pressed her breasts against his chest, and drew his head down closer, deepening their kiss. He stroked her back, thinking of the soft mounds resting near his thudding heart. As though his hand had a mind of its own, it cupped a full breast and teased its stiffened bud through the wispy fabric.

  Their kisses grew hotter, hungrier, tongues entangling. His head felt light. He ached to bring them both pleasure, and his evidence of arousal pressed against his zipper until he thought it might bust the damned thing.

  Amber twisted her heat into his. He’d never wanted anyone more. De La Fuente’s words echoed in his head. For the next seven days she was off limits. Luke ended the kiss abruptly and held her away.

  He exhaled heavily. “Better walk. The doc’s been giving you some strong drugs, and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  She nodded, looking disappointed.

  Pretending not to notice, he stooped, picked up the rose that had dropped during the frenzy of their kisses, and placed it gently back into her hand. Electricity shot up his arm as they brushed fingers.

  He cleared his throat. “That job with Rhoades,” he said as they began walking back to the entrance, careful not to touch each other. “How did you get a job like that, anyway?”

  “Just luck. One day Mr. Rhoades marched into my secretarial school and chose me out of fifteen women. Although I had top-notch skills, I didn’t have any work experience. He said that didn’t matter; he preferred someone green he could train.”

  I’ll bet, Luke thought. Probably planned to train her right into his bed.

  ****

  Amber tossed and turned, unable to sleep. In the garden, Luke had aroused a frenzied hunger for a physical connection with him, and then pulled back. She understood his reasons, or at least the reasons he had given. She even admired and appreciated his chivalry, but she didn’t understand her emotions. Just thinking about the fire between them quickened her heartbeat and sent a steamy flush rushing over her body. When he had fondled her breast with those big, strong hands, it felt like hot wine flowed through her veins, intoxicating her, making rational thought impossible.

  Amber glanced at the rose in the small crystal vase she had found in the kitchen cupboards. The flower would wilt and die. But for now it was perfect. Maybe there was a message there.

  Throwing back the light sheet, she thrust herself out of bed. She paced a few moments, then looked out the window and basked in the moon glow, drinking in the stillness of the night.

  For a little while in the vast gardens under the starlit sky she had felt safe, loved. She should thank Luke for stopping before they got carried away. It was risky enough that she had let him kiss her and touch her, but if she stepped further over the intimacy line it would change everything. Their actions wouldn’t just mess up their lives, it might hurt Alicia, as well. Amber knew all the reasons she shouldn’t want him, but her heart and body refused to heed the logic. She paced again. The situation was impossible. With a killer after her, she might have to leave at a moment’s notice, and here her heart was putting down roots.

  Chapter Seven

  The moment Luke walked into Buck’s living room, Matt swooped down on him like a hawk, grabbing him by the arm. “We have to talk,” he said. “Now! In the barn.”

  The rest of the Ryan family, who had already gathered at the ranch about sixty miles west of the Ryan spread to fulfill their yearly pledge to help with the charity rodeo, lowered their eyes, letting him know he had to face this alone.

  He bristled at his brother’s sharp tone but did not question following him. Something was up, and neither of them wanted to air problems in front of friends and family. Their rivalry had always been as fierce as their love, and when they met head-on, walls trembled.

  Silent as a brewing storm, they strode across the sun-scorched compound, both men used to giving orders, neither accustomed to taking them. They charged into the barn like angry Brahmas, ready to butt horns.

  The barn reeked of hay, manure, and the smell of cigarette smoke. Luke frowned. Only an idiot would smoke in a barn. Luke wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve and glanced around. He sensed someone nearby but saw only two vaqueros pitching hay at the far end of the barn. Neither were smoking. Maybe he’d imagined it. He shrugged off his uneasiness.

  “What’s so all-fired important?” He met Matt’s steely gaze, returning a look just as hard, just as unyielding.

  The corner of Matt’s eye twitched. “Your life, Alicia’s life.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Amber.”

  Luke narrowed his eyes. He didn’t want to hear anything against her, but this concerned Alicia, too, and he couldn’t stick his head in the sand when it came to her welfare. Matt knew it, used it. “What about her?” Luke asked.

  His brother exhaled heavily and squared his shoulders as though steeling himself for the expected ricochet of flack. “I sent Amber’s fingerprints to the FBI lab and faxed a picture to the San Antonio police for ID.”

  “You did what?” Luke curled his hands into fists. He wanted to smash his brother’s face so damn bad. Although Matt was the middle sibling, he had always presented himself as the family protector, and believed his self-appointed position gave him a wide trough to do whatever he damn well pleased. Their father had reinforced that belief, which led to a helluva lot of resentment among the three brothers. But with Parker dead, and the family shrinking, it seemed they really oughta try to work things out peaceably. But damn it, he was fed up with always being the one to back down. “Look, Mr. ex-FBI, your suspicious mind doesn’t give you the right to dig into my business and investigate Alicia’s nanny like she’s a criminal.”

  “Maybe she is. Wanta hear about her or not?”

  Silence charged between them. A whinny echoed from a nearby stall. Luke shoved his hands into his pockets, dread and curiosity overriding anger. “Yeah,” he growled.

  Matt exhaled heavily. “Name’s Amber Miles. And she lied about her age—she’s only twenty.”

  Luke opened his mouth to defend Amber—she hadn’t lied, she s
imply didn’t know. “Amber didn’t—”

  Matt held up his hand. “Wait. Here’s where her history gets scary. She was a private secretary to the late Phillip Rhoades, a high finance industrialist rumored to have connections with a Las Vegas crime boss.”

  Luke’s neck prickled. He sank to a bale of hay. Amber had remembered the job, but not that her employer had crime connections. Or had she remembered and held it back?

  Luke grasped a single straw, fighting his rising doubt. “Rumored, you said. Besides, even if the guy was dirty, who’s to say she’s mixed up in any of it?”

  Matt snorted. “An attractive girl barely in her twenties—private secretary—to a shady old dude? Get real.”

  Matt was right. It didn’t sound legit no matter how you cut it. “But—”

  “It gets worse. She’s a suspect in her boss’s murder.”

  Luke felt a surge of faith. “I know about that. She didn’t do it.”

  “Innocent women don’t run. Don’t lie about who they are, don’t lie on their resume.”

  Single-minded as a bull—Matt wouldn’t let this go. Luke knew the whole thing would blow up in their faces if he didn’t level with him. “She has amnesia. I took her to Dr. De La Fuente for help.”

  Matt’s face clouded, but to his credit, he listened to the whole story before he said, “I don’t buy it. If she’s so innocent, why doesn’t she turn herself in?”

  “I noticed you didn’t turn Molly in when she had amnesia.”

  “She didn’t kill anyone.”

  “Neither did Amber.”

  Matt shook his head. “You don’t know that. Your blind loyalty to this woman could bury you in cow chips.”

  “Damn it. I know I’m right about her.” Amber’s inner sweetness had touched him deeply, and he refused to throw her to the dogs.

  “Look, Luke, you’re only twenty-six and your experience with women—”

  “Get off it. What’s age got to do with it? Do ya have to be over thirty to know a decent person when you see one?”

  “Hell no. But you’re on the rebound from losing Connie Lou, and along comes this curvy little filly, looking all vulnerable and soft.”