9781618853011NoHoldsBarredChelcee

by Unknown

  Chapter Fourteen

  There are very few personal problems that cannot be solved through a suitable application of high explosives.

  ~Cowgirl Quotes

  Rimrock, Montana

  Dancing Star Ranch

  October 27, Monday 2:00 p.m.

  Kaycee glanced nervously at her brother. The bewilderment she read on his face reflected a mirror image of how she felt. What they’d both anticipated she didn’t know, but she knew it certainly wasn’t this grandeur.

  Jace, in her estimation, was financially secure. It had shown in everything he did and said. The way he walked and dressed. The way he casually pulled three thousand dollars out of his wallet and pressed the money in her hands as if it was nothing. Hell, he hadn’t even counted it.

  Duel both owned and operated The Double Deuce Casino. She realized he was wealthy from the beginning, but she had no idea he partly owned this ranch in Montana or that it would be so—impressive.

  And Jace. She wasn’t quite certain what to make of him.

  A millionaire rancher—billionaire rancher—quite possibly.

  A gentleman, billionaire rancher? Hah! Jace Remington sure as sweet hell was no gentleman, billionaire or otherwise. In his own way, he was as ruthless as Smitt—and twice as dangerous.

  At least, he was dangerous to her heart.

  She steered the truck through a high archway made of ancient-looking split logs. But she knew they’d been on Dancing Star land for at least thirty minutes. The scenery was mind-boggling, rich with a stunning backdrop of ice blue, snow-capped mountains that surrounded the ranch.

  Fat, Black Angus cattle, well suited to Montana’s harsh winters because of their thick hair, grazed peacefully to the right of the split-rail fencing that flanked the long drive. A hay meadow sprawled to the left of the fence, where several irrigation systems were in operation.

  As they drew closer, she saw hundreds of frisky yearlings romping fearlessly in neat paddocks, separated from the grazing cattle. Their coats were sleek, shiny, and gleaming with health.

  The yearlings pranced playfully, dancing about the pastures, as if extending a welcome. The mares nipped sweet, green grass and kept a watchful eye on their daring youngsters.

  She stared wistfully at the young animals. She loved working with yearlings, giving them their first taste of learning new things, watching them develop their own personalities.

  Excitement slammed into her belly, turning her insides to warm mush. She felt wired and higher than the rugged mountains that back-dropped the ranch like an artist’s painting. She couldn’t wait to see everything.

  Jace’s home was a rambling, rustic, three-story house made of logs that lay at the end of a wide circular drive. Warmth and welcome exuded from the sprawling, old-fashioned house.

  She yearned to leave the hot interior of the decrepit, old pickup and enter the cool, shady surroundings. Home. This was going to be her home, at least for awhile.The money Jace advanced her covered the repairs desperately needed on the truck, except for the air-conditioner. By the time she settled a few remaining bills, there was just enough money left to make the drive to the ranch, with fifty dollars left over in change.

  But she wasn’t going to worry.

  They were here, and Smitt was in Reno. She hadn’t seen him once since the elevator incident. She did, however, see the three security men Jace hired to protect her.

  She hadn’t liked the constant monitoring, but at the same time, realized the necessity for it. She imagined Smitt saw them also and hopefully moved on out of her life. She prayed he’d found better things to do than harass her. Hopefully, he had no idea where she and her brother had disappeared to.

  Unashamedly, she allowed her eyes to roam as she brought the truck to a slow stop in front of the house. A deeply shaded wrap-around porch looked cool and inviting with large, man-sized rocking chairs spaced about the wide veranda. Huge baskets of ferns hooked on the porch posts, swung gently in the breeze. Wooden tubs of petunias dotted the walk, cheerful, colorful and a warm, vibrant touch of assorted colors.

  A man’s questioning voice drew her startled attention to the cowboy who slowly approached them. “You the Spencers’?”

  Kaycee cleared her throat. “Yes.” Glancing at Taylor’s sullen, withdrawn expression, she nervously turned back to the cowboy. “Yes. I’m Kaycee Spencer.”

  “Josh Henning, the foreman, a pleasure, Miss Spencer.”

  Josh was a short, stocky built, bow-legged man whose hair had turned from carrot orange to silver. Bushy white eyebrows shaded deep-set eyes that were a serious, cobalt blue. An overstuffed jaw, crammed full of chewing tobacco, appeared swollen.

  He slipped off a pair of worn work gloves as she extended her hand in greeting. “Please, call me Kaycee. This is my brother, Taylor.”

  Josh nodded, frowning at Taylor’s non-response. “Mr. Remington is at the back of the house,” he said. “He’s expecting you. Drive on around. The corrals are behind the stables. He’ll show you where you’ll be staying. Don’t park near the ‘copter pad. Never know when there’ll be a landing or take-off.”

  “Thanks.” Kaycee glanced once more at her brother and tightened her lips at the sullen expression on his face. His refusal to greet the ranch foreman was unnecessarily rude. Turning the key, she switched on the engine and bumped the gear in place. “Would you try to be a little civil, Taylor? Remember, I need this job. Don’t let me down.”

  He snorted. “I can remember my lines, but this move is crazy. We don’t know these people. Why didn’t we just stay in Reno? I’m not able to work and even if I was, I don’t want to work for some bastard I’ve never even met. I don’t give a damn if he is your husband.”

  “Please,” she pleaded. “No one is supposed to know about the marriage. We’re getting a divorce as soon as possible.”

  He shook his head. “Yeah, well, I would have divorced him the minute he blacked my eye if I was in your shoes. And now you want to work for the same bastard who beat the shit out of you? What are you thinking?”

  She bit her lip. What had she been thinking in allowing Taylor to believe Jace was the one who hurt her? It was going to create problems. More problems, she automatically corrected.

  It was easier to allow Taylor to believe Jace hit her than to explain the complications with Smitt. Her brother would panic if he knew about Smitt’s threats. She didn’t need the extra worry it would create. Thank God most of the bruising had faded and the rest she concealed with make-up. “It’s complicated. Jace is a difficult man. I don’t want you to say anything to him about the fight. It’s between Jace and me and none of your business.”

  He shrugged with disinterest. “Whatever. I still don’t think I’m ready to go back to work. I tire out easily—”

  “For heaven’s sake, Taylor,” she snapped, losing patience. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself. You promised you’d take the job. We need these jobs. You know we do. There’s no reason why you can’t return to work. It’s not like its physically taxing.”

  “Fine,” he yelled. “You’re the one who wanted this move. You think because I’m crippled I can’t think for myself!” He glared at her, fury in his piercing blue eyes. “I’m not working. I’m not able.”

  She mentally winced. Maybe there were times she tended to treat him like a child. She didn’t mean to. “Just be patient, you’ll walk again.”

  His scowl darkened. “Sometimes I hate you! You’re just like the doctors. Wait! Wait! Wait! You’ll walk again. Give it a few months. Well, guess what, Kaycee? It’s been sixteen months, and I’m still sitting in this fucking wheelchair.” He buried his face in his hands, his breathing harsh. “I don’t believe for a single minute I’ll ever walk again. So cut me some slack, and leave me the hell alone.”

  She lowered her gaze. “Sure, whatever you want.”

  “I want to walk again, that’s what I want! I want to take care of myself, not have you hovering around me day and night, doing everything for me. Sometimes
I wish I’d died. At least then you would have a life.”

  “Don’t say things like that,” she cried. “I don’t mind caring for you.”

  “I mind! You’re saddled with a cripple, physically, as well as emotionally. I know I’m a bastard sometimes. I don’t know how to stop.” He beat the dash with his fists. “I don’t know how to control the frustration, the rage.”

  She blinked, fighting tears that threatened to overwhelm and take her under. “I’d love to have my brother back, the real Taylor.”

  “I’ll try, sis.”

  Kaycee nodded and parked the truck at the back of the stables, well away from the helicopter pad. “That’s all I ask, that you try. Dead is a permanent thing and wishing it is unworthy of you. Life is precious. Your life is precious to me. I never want to hear you say something like that again.”

  She slammed the truck door behind her. Glancing back at Taylor’s shuttered face, she sighed. If he continued to refuse to work for Jace, she didn’t know how she was going to explain it to her husband.

  But she wasn’t willing to keep nagging her brother. He looked fragile to her, as if he’d reached the breaking point and saw no reason to go on from there. He’d lost weight and there were dark circles under his eyes. His appetite was nil and she knew he didn’t sleep well at night. She sighed again and turned away. It bothered her that he wished he was dead. It was unhealthy and a cause for concern. She vowed to keep a closer eye on him.

  Now that they were here, surely things would improve.

  At least it was cooler outside the truck. Still, her blouse stuck to her back from the clammy heat from being trapped inside the truck for so many hours. She figured she looked as wilted as she felt. Great impression she’d make on her husband—her new boss, she corrected bitterly—along with all the other great impressions she’d managed to make on him.

  She heard shouting and halted. A group of men straddled a wood fence around a corral and others stood nearby, wranglers whooped and yelled encouragement as a cowboy struggled to stay on the back of a wildly bucking bronc.

  She raised a hand to shade her eyes against the brilliance of the afternoon sun. To her left lay a neat racetrack. It was obvious the track received a lot of use, for the ground looked like hammered hamburger meat, well trodden from the rapid pounding of horse’s hooves.

  Even at this very moment, a blood-red filly with gold colored mane raced around the track. A tiny jockey clung to its back like a monkey. A tall man stood to one side observing, a stopwatch held at eye level as he timed the seconds the horse took to circle the track. A gleeful shout came from the man with the stopwatch. She grinned, realizing the horse’s time must have been very good.

  It was clear the Dancing Star was well managed and involved in a variety of horse and cattle projects. A multitude of diversified programs was obviously put to use. A lot of love and money had been poured into the upkeep of the ranch.

  Kaycee glanced to her right and was delighted to see an open arena where show horses pranced through their high stepping paces. When it came to horses, apparently, Mr. Jace Remington delved into numerous things. She headed in the direction of the corral where most of the action and lively shouting was coming from.

  As she drew near the group of men, she spotted Jace. He separated himself from the others and slowly approached her. A woman stepped away from the noisy mass of whooping cowboys ringed around the corral and ran up to Jace. She took possession of his arm and leaned into him, a gesture Kaycee found oddly intimate between them. Jace halted, looked down at the petite, dark haired woman, and frowned.

  Narrowing her eyes, Kaycee watched the woman smile up at Jace, an alluring curve to her vivid ruby-red lips. Skintight jeans hugged her narrow hips and a scarlet-colored, peasant-style blouse slid off one creamy shoulder. Even from where she stood, Kaycee realized the woman was beautiful and sexy. Her dark nipples were plainly outlined and poked against the thin, gauzy material of her blouse.

  Suddenly she flung her arms around Jace and pulled his mouth down to her cherry-colored lips. Her fingers slid through the hair at his nape. She thrust her full breasts against his bare chest and slid her hand southward.

  Jace tautened. He jerked the woman’s hand away from her intended direction and thrust her away. He muttered something, but they were too far away for Kaycee to hear.

  The woman threw back her head and laughed deeply. “Never!”

  Kaycee wondered what the woman’s shouted word referred to. What had Jace said to her? More importantly, who was she and what did she mean to him?

  He whipped around and left the woman standing alone. Her laughter faded, replaced by a sullen look on her beautiful face. Jace didn’t look back, but continued toward her, determination in his long strides. She saw plainly he was angry, but she wasn’t sure who he was mad at.

  Her body quivered in response as he drew closer. This man was different from the immaculate person she’d met in Reno. He was sweaty. Angry. Brooding. He looked as though he’d like to commit murder. His dark face, shadowed by a day’s growth of whiskers, had a smear of dirt and blood streaked across a granite jaw.

  This rugged man was her husband, and she’d just witnessed him kissing another woman. Fierce anger grabbed hold like red-hot pinchers and bit hotly into her soul. How dare he flaunt an affair under her nose?

  Deal with it, Kaycee. You’re the one who didn’t want a marriage. Surely you didn’t think he’d hang around and wait on you?

  She sighed. No, she hadn’t expected him to wait on her, but neither had she expected him to go right out and bring another woman to where she’d be living and working. A woman he obviously cared for or she wouldn’t be here. Jace was much too virile to wait for her, especially when she’d made it clear she didn’t want any part of him. Not even his child.

  She noticed a fresh cut over his left eyebrow where more dried blood was matted. Faded jeans, sinfully soft, rode low on his lean hips. He was so damned sexy, heat pooled between her thighs in response.

  The toes of his boots were scuffed and worn. He moved toward her with a slow, boneless gait. Her husband was no millionaire playboy. He got dirty. He worked right beside his men and worked hard.

  She swallowed. This man, she could fall in love with.

  It didn’t help her libido any that he was naked from the waist up. Why was she so damned crazy about his chest? And she’d just witnessed another woman press her breasts quite blatantly against said, bare chest. She’d watched in silence as the same woman slid her greedy fingers toward his crotch.

  Her anger churned, then bubbled past the mercury point.

  Who the hell was this woman?

  Why did she care?

  She decided she was overtired from the long drive, or else she wouldn’t give a damn Jace just allowed another woman to maul him. If she wasn’t so tired, her heart wouldn’t be doing these crazy little acrobatics the closer he drew to her.

  He halted in front of her. She never expected her nerves to tingle with such awareness of a half-naked man.

  But then why not?

  She’d certainly wanted to crawl in bed with him when he’d been fully clothed.

  He wiped the perspiration from his face with the back of a damp arm. His gaze slid down her body, the trace of a frown on his face. He reached out and stroked the faint bruising that still lingered on her cheek. “How have you been?” he asked huskily.

  “Fine.” She clenched her fingers to keep from grabbing him and planting a hotter kiss on him than the woman she’d just decided was a bitch.

  She ached to reach out and stroke him. She could hardly blame another female for wanting to do the same thing. He was a sensual being, the kind of man who drew women to him. The kind of man women loved to love. He simply oozed sex appeal.

  Sex! She told herself that’s all it was. They’d had sex. Love had nothing to do with what they’d shared. It had been raw. It had been elemental. Hot! Wild! She wanted it again!

  The bold thought splashed abruptly across
her consciousness. Hot. Raw. Sex.

  Yes! Please!

  Her stomach clenched and a fierce throb settled between her thighs. Damn. With that intoxicating awareness, she swallowed back a moan as a flash of heat ignited her body. She couldn’t simply stand here and blatantly enjoy the sight of her husband’s bare chest.

  Blatantly finish undressing him with her eyes. Jesus. She even smelled his raw masculinity.

  Jace slid his gaze over her with frank appraisal, his eyes pausing on the keyhole opening centered on the cotton tank top she wore. The open loop was right between her breasts and that’s where his eyes had made their pit stop. The healthy bit of cleavage he saw only served to make his mouth water.

  Hunger hit him with the force of a one-two punch to the gut. His throat felt dry as the desert. An urgent need throbbed heavily in his loins. Damn it. He wanted his wife. Now!

  Her fingers went nervously to her throat before she ended up smoothing her hand across the opening. Huh. He lifted a brow and automatically reached for the shirt he’d left draped across the rail directly behind her.

  He heard her soft gasp, met her startled look, and felt his lungs nearly explode with the need to exhale. “By God, keep looking at me like that, and I’ll take you up on the offer I see in your eyes,” he breathed.

  Color swept up her face and into the roots of her hair. He bumped against her, a nudge of his thighs that let her know he was fully aroused. She caught her bottom lip with her teeth, but she didn’t back away from his touch. The damp sweat on his chest penetrated the thin cotton material of her blouse. He felt her nipples tighten. She jerked back.

  “Do you ever wear a bra?”

  “Sometimes.” She cleared her throat. “How am I looking at you?” she asked quietly.

  With a lazy movement, he drew the chambray shirt on, leaving it to hang unbuttoned. The slight breeze gently touched his bare flesh, teasing the heat and drying the sweat from his moist skin. He stared at the wet patches he’d left on the front of her pale pink tank top.