by Unknown
“Well, I don’t want you to work.”
“I hate the kitchen,” she warned.
“I already have a cook. Mrs. Kindle wouldn’t be happy if I replaced her with you. You don’t have to worry about cooking.”
“I train horses. That’s what I’m good at.”
“That’s not the only thing you’re good at.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She turned bright red.
“You know what I’m talking about. You’re good at being my wife. I don’t need a trainer, sweetheart. However, I have a suggestion that perhaps we both can live with. I’m going to be in Reno for another day, maybe two.”
And he was going to find Smitt Davis and beat the man to a bloody pulp.
But she didn’t need to know that. “Have dinner with me tonight. I’ll rent a car. We can drive to Vegas. See some of the shows. I’ve heard The Legends in Concert at the Imperial Palace are incredible. We can take in a show at Caesar’s Palace, if you prefer. Or if you prefer something lighter, there’s a show at the Stratosphere, singers, dancers, and male comedians who are hilarious. Let’s spend some time doing the tourist thing, gamble a little, and get acquainted.”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I don’t think so. There’s no point. Besides, I already know more about you than I ever wanted to know.”
“No, sweetheart, you’re acquainted with my body. You don’t know the man at all.”
“And I don’t want to know the man at all.”
He watched the play of expressions on Kaycee’s sweet face. God, she was shutting him out more and more with each minute that passed. It was plain she didn’t feel up to coping with him, but he suspected even if she did, she wouldn’t.
She didn’t want to spend any more time with him. Too bad. “All right. Then we’ll discuss you working for me. You have no references. Right?”
“Duel said I didn’t need them, he’d vouch for me.”
Jace muttered something pithy beneath his breath. Swear to God, he was going to wring his brother’s neck very first chance he got.
She flinched, her eyes widening warily. “You’re going to wring Duel’s neck? Why?”
He gritted his teeth. Damn, he was going to have to watch what he voiced aloud. He ignored her question. “Unfortunately sweetheart, Duel isn’t the one hiring you…that is, if you still insist upon working.”
By God, his wife wasn’t working for him! But first, he had to convince her to go to Montana. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her here in Reno alone, not with Smitt hounding her every move.
What was he going to do about her? What would she allow him to do?
What he preferred—what he really wanted to do—was crawl back in bed with her. Spend hours listening to her little gasps as he filled her body with his. He wanted to spend the rest of his life making her forget what Smitt had done to her.
His body ached for hers. And he wondered bleakly if the dull ache in his balls was ever going to go away or be satisfied?
Gaining information from Kaycee was harder than trying to get milk from a stone. Yet, she expected him to hire her to handle his thoroughbreds without a single reference. He barely stifled a snort. Shit, he wouldn’t hire her with references. For her own safety, he didn’t want her around the horses. Not because he was afraid of injuries she might cause them, but because she was too small to be struggling with the big and powerful animals. Hell, one blow from a hoof could kill her.
Her gaze flickered wildly about the room, looking anywhere but at him, the man who held her future in his palms. She cleared her throat and wiped her palms on the jeans he’d loaned her.
She blew out a stream of air. “I don’t believe we have anything further to thrash out, Mr. Remington. I–I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to work for you, after all.”
End of discussion.
“Jace. My name is Jace. Say it.”
She stared at him, tightened her lips stubbornly.
“Say my name, Kaycee.” He rose to his feet, circled the desk, and leaned his hips against the corner of it. “Say it like you did last night. Say it…like you did…when I filled you and you came undone in my arms.” He leaned forward, gripped her shoulders, and dragged her to her feet. “Whisper it. Moan it. Scream it. Hell, I don’t care. Damn it! Say it. Don’t shut me out of your life!” He swallowed hard. “If you think I’m going to forget the luscious curves barely swathed in bits of black lace or those frilly-frothy garters you were wearing last night, then you’re mistaken. I’ll never forget.” He twined his fingers in her hair. “Christ, I’ll never get the picture of me thrusting inside you, the way our bodies joined so perfectly out of my mind.” He set her away from him and raked trembling fingers through his hair. “Sit down,” he ordered on a strangled note.
Biting her lip, Kaycee sat back down. “I–I think I should just go.”
He narrowed his eyes, his gaze flicking to where she rubbed her shoulder. “Let me check that.” He reached for her again, pulling her between his spread thighs, and then lifted the sweatshirt over her head. Her breasts swung free, brushing against his bare chest. He smothered a groan and tried to concentrate on removing the dressing from where Smitt bit her.
The wounds still oozed. The area around them looked inflamed and swollen.
She moaned.
“Bastard,” he mumbled. “Sick fuck. I think Duel has a first-aid kit in the bathroom,” he muttered. “It looks like it might be getting infected.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it when I get home.” She reached for the sweatshirt and pulled it over her head.
His gaze fell to the ring on her finger. She was still wearing it. At least she hadn’t taken it off and flung it back in his face a second time. That meant something.
Didn’t it?
He had to do something, say something to keep her in his life. Keep her safe. “You can’t stay in Reno. Smitt will never give you a moment’s peace. I think you know that. Come to Montana with me. Once you’re there, we’ll discuss the possibility of you working with the horses. All right?”
“What? No. You already said you don’t want me working with your horses. I don’t think it would be a good idea. I want to work with horses, and you’re not ever going to allow me near yours.”
“Kaycee, please, I can’t just leave you here, and I can’t stay. I can’t turn those thoroughbreds over to your care without references. They’re worth millions and without references…I’m sorry. I can’t. If you don’t want to be treated as my wife, then”—damn, this was going to kill him—“I’ll treat you just like another employee. No special privileges. No one has to know we’re married, if that’s the way you want it. I’ll play by your rules for the time being.” He hesitated then said, “If you want a job, I need a stable hand. Until we’re better acquainted, and until you’re ready, it will be our secret you’re my wife. Will you agree to that?”
She frowned.
He didn’t give her time to mull it over. “I need someone familiar with horses, someone who knows each one has their own unique personality. I need someone who can muck out stalls, wash and groom the horses, pick their hooves, and be a gofer. Can you do that? Will you accept that?”
She bit her lip. “I don’t want to live with you as your wife. I don’t want anyone to know we’re married.”
“All right.” Jace ignored the hurt that burned through him. “I’ll agree to that for a while.”
A short while.
“There’s a house available on the ranch. You can stay there. It’s not much, but it will do temporarily.”
“I come with baggage.”
“Meaning?”
“Taylor, my brother, he goes where I go.”
“All right. What does he do?”
“Do?”
Jace rubbed a hand down his face. All he wanted to do was grab his wife and kiss her breathless, take her back to his suite and have his way with her. Having to control his urges didn’t do much for his pat
ience. “Do,” he snapped. “Does he train horses?”
“No. He’s an accountant, but he’s been ill. There was an accident and he hasn’t had a job in over a year. I’ve been supporting the both of us.”
“What kind of accident?”
“We were in an automobile accident. He was severely injured. I need to get him back in physical therapy as soon as possible when we reach Montana.”
“Done. And you?”
“Me?”
“Were you injured?” He raked his gaze over her restlessly. Had she been seriously injured?
“Not as badly as he was,” she replied quietly. “A ruptured spleen, torn liver, emergency surgery took care of both injuries.”
She wasn’t about to go into the details of how close she’d come to dying from loss of blood.
He froze. She didn’t have to fill in the details. He’d seen plenty of gored cowboys to know about ruptured spleens and torn livers. Of course, he’d seen the faint pink scar across her abdomen, but he hadn’t asked questions because he hadn’t wanted to answer questions about his own scars. The knowledge she’d been so seriously hurt left an aching void somewhere in the region of his heart.
“Do you want the job as stable hand or not?”
“Want it? No. I’ll take it.”
“You might at least sound a little grateful.”
“Go to hell!” She surged to her feet, her cheeks flaring with hot color.
“Already been there, darlin’. Sit down. This interview isn’t over.”
“The hell it’s not.”
“I said, sit down.” Jace raked her with a scathing glare. “It will be over when I say and not a moment sooner.” He regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Can Taylor work now?”
“I…yes, I suppose. He’s paralyzed. He…uh…” She swallowed hard before continuing, “he’s in a wheelchair, but there’s nothing wrong with his mind.” She sighed and sat back down in the chair. “Look, I realize Duel placed you in a sorry position by asking you to hire me. Don’t feel obligated—”
“Obligated? Jesus. Don’t push me, sweetheart,” he gritted. He saw her swallow hard, saw the tension in her eyes, the barely-held-back tears. Shit. He might have to protect his heart, but he didn’t have to trample on hers to do it. “Just so there’s no misunderstanding, I never give anyone a job because I feel obligated.” He said the words gently, softer than he’d spoken to her in a while. “I need a stable hand. What I don’t need, darlin’, is a trainer. I don’t want you anywhere near the horses, other than as a stable hand and groomer.”
He saw her shoulders sag with defeat. Hell. He hoped she didn’t cry. He’d collapse if she cried.
“I’m a good trainer. As far as I’m concerned, it’s your loss.”
His heart slammed in his chest. Damn it, tears shimmered in her eyes.
Don’t cry!
“You–you’re not even going to give me a chance to prove what I can do. Are you?”
Her soft mouth trembled as she looked away from him. Jace felt his breath lodge in his chest. It was killing him to hurt her like this. But there were bankers and obligations he had to deal with, a mountain of debt to get off his back. Jillian alone had cost him a fortune and she wanted more. He didn’t need another woman wrecking all his hard work.
He couldn’t afford to take risks.
Not with the horses and not with the ranch.
“I can’t jeopardize the horses, not even for you. The bank owns them. If you can handle mucking out stalls, feeding the horses, and generally doing grungy work, then the job is yours. Take it or leave it. But understand, I’ll not tolerate you trying to train any of the Thoroughbreds. Do the job you’re hired to do and leave it at that.” His gaze zeroed in on her. “And stay away from the men. It’s a big ranch with a lot of men. Some have been there for years, but some are just passing through. I can’t watch all of them.” He sighed. “No doubt, you’ll be a distraction.”
“I—”
“How much were you expecting to be paid?” He cut off her words. There was nothing more she could say and he didn’t want to hear any more rejection in her voice. He rubbed his hand over his forehead.
She shrugged. “I wasn’t…I don’t know.”
“What’s your going rate for training horses?”
“I’ve never received pay for—”
“You’ve never been paid for training horses? That doesn’t say much for your ability as a professional trainer. What the hell was Duel thinking?”
Kaycee winced. Well, he’d jumped on that in a heartbeat and rightfully so, still, he didn’t have to look as if she’d told him he had a snake crawling across his boot. He knew nothing about her capabilities and yet he sat there and judged her unworthy. Be damned if she’d explain herself to him.
“No, I’ve never received pay.” She sighed. “Pay me whatever you think is fair.” He offered her a sum that made her gasp. Well shit, the man had a way of winning even when he was being an asshole.
“I’ll pay you the amount you would have received working for me as a trainer. Believe me you’ll earn every cent of it.”
She forced herself to face him and keep her expression blank. He’d certainly made his contempt for her as a trainer plain enough. So why was he being so generous now?
“Is it a deal or not?” he snapped.
She heard the distaste in his voice at having to bargain with her. The tightness in her chest felt unbearable. She wanted nothing more than to get up and walk out of this room.
Tell him to go to hell and give him directions.
But Smitt was waiting for her, lying in the shadows like a monster in a closet. The same problems were there with a few more thrown in for good measure. She’d be a fool to pass up the opportunity to leave Reno, not when that had been her main goal all along.
“It’s a deal, Mr. Remington. Thank you.”
“Jace,” he gritted. “Can’t you say it, just once?”
“Jace,” she breathed and rose to leave.
“Wait.” He withdrew a wad of bills from his wallet and pushed them into her hands. “You have a week. If you’re not at the ranch by then, I’ll come get you. Understand?”
She nodded, crushing the bills in her hand.
“Do you have a dependable way to get to Montana?”
“Yes. I’ll be there. We’ll be there,” she said tightly. She hated taking his money, but she refused to tell him her old truck was on its last legs and running on maypops. She wrapped her fingers tightly around the bills he’d shoved into her palm. Pride had no place when she needed the money so desperately.
“Be there, Kaycee. You won’t like me if I have to come get you.” His eyes were hard as stone.
She nodded. “I don’t like you already.”
“I got the message when you told me you didn’t want me or my baby.” He stared at her, his eyes hard as flint.
“I—”
“You may go,” he said coldly, dismissing her as if she were nothing but a bothersome gnat. “I assume you know your way out.”
“Yes,” she swallowed down the bitterness. It was a lost cause. “However, I have no idea where the Dancing Star is.”
“Just ask someone in Rimrock…anyone can give you directions from there.” He sounded bored, as if he couldn’t wait to be rid of her. “And Kaycee?”
She looked up at him with questioning eyes.
“There will be bodyguards stationed at your home. Wherever you go, they’ll be close by, until you’re out of Nevada.”
“Bodyguards?” She frowned. “But—”
“It isn’t negotiable. I’m not taking any chances with your life. You have a week. I expect to see you then.”
She straightened her shoulders and walked stiffly toward the door. She could feel his dark eyes boring into her back. Montana covered a hell of a lot of territory. No matter, she’d find the ranch. She turned back to face him. “We’ll both work hard, Mr. Remington. You won’t be sorry you hired us.”
“It’s Jace
, damn it—and I already am.”
She nodded and turned back to the door. Humiliation swamped her.
“Kaycee.”
She froze, but couldn’t bring herself to face him again.
“Stay safe.”
She snapped the door closed behind her and stopped battling the tears that had threatened to fall for the last hour. They slid down her cheeks now, scalding hot. She was relieved to be out of his sight, relieved not to have to see the hurt in his eyes, on his face any longer.
But there was nothing wrong with her hearing, and she flinched when the sound of shattering glass echoed through the door.
She swayed, as if all the blood had left her head and rushed to the tips of her toes. She moved slowly, unsteadily down the corridor. Lord help her, but she had a feeling she had a worse enemy than Smitt Davis ever dreamed about being.
Jace Dakoda Remington was going to make her life a living hell!
Chapter Thirteen
To tittle-tattle is like playing poker, you win from time to time but in the end are ensnared at your own game.
~Judge Roy Bean
Penthouse Floor
Saturday 1:30 p.m.
Jace stood with his back to the door, his arms braced on either side of the open window and stared at the evening traffic rushing below. Duel would probably raise nine kinds of hell because he was wasting the piped air, but he couldn’t stand being closed in any longer.
He needed to smell the air, the scent of rain-washed pavement, feel the heat of the sun, even if it was liquefied at the moment.
Between the automobiles and the crux of tourists on foot, it was like watching a bunch of ants in a jungle. Taxi drivers fought for the right to pull into casino loading and unloading zones, a constant battle to drop-off and pick-up adrenalin high tourists.
A hooker, wearing a black mini-skirt and a barely-there top, stepped into the path of a turning taxi. Jace grinned as she paused to flip off the driver. The driver yelled something obscene back at her before they continued on their separate destinations. Pedestrians scrambled from casino to casino, some with drinks in their hands. Horns blasted. Tourists carried cameras in front of their faces and paused abruptly to snap pictures, then moved on.
