by Cat Schield
She wasn’t proud that she’d learned how to manipulate others’ emotions and desires, but she was happy to have survived that dark time and become the successful rancher her father had always hoped she’d be. As for what she was going to do about Shane? What he didn’t know about his claim on Hope Springs Ranch wouldn’t hurt him. She just needed to make sure he stayed in the dark until she could figure out a way to keep her land free and clear.
Four
At Bullseye Ranch’s main house, Shane sat on the leather sofa in the den, boots propped on the reclaimed wood coffee table, an untouched tumbler of scotch dangling from the fingers of his left hand. Almost twenty-four hours had gone by since Brandee had called to thank him for finding her a horse and he’d been thinking about her almost nonstop. She’d sounded wary on the phone, as if expecting him to demand something in return for his help. It wasn’t the response he’d been hoping for, but it was pure Brandee.
What the hell was wrong with the woman that she couldn’t accept a kind gesture? Well, to be fair, he hadn’t acted with pure altruism. He did want something from her, but it wasn’t what she feared. His motive was personal not business. Would she ever believe that?
His doorbell rang. Shane set aside his drink and went to answer the door. He wasn’t expecting visitors.
It was Brandee standing on his front porch. The petite blonde was wearing her customary denim and carrying a bottle wrapped in festive tissue. She smiled at his shocked look, obviously pleased to have seized the upper hand for the moment.
“Brought you a little thank-you gift,” she explained, extending the bottle. “I know you like scotch and thought you might appreciate this.”
“Thanks.” He gestured her inside and was more than a little bewildered when she strolled past him.
“Nice place you have here.” Brandee shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans as she made her way into the middle of the living room.
“I can’t take the credit. My mom did all the remodeling and design.”
“She should have been an interior designer.”
“I’ve told her that several times.” Shane peeled the paper off the bottle and whistled when he saw the label. “This is a great bottle of scotch.”
“Glad you like it. I asked the bartender at the TCC clubhouse what he’d recommend and this is what he suggested.”
“Great choice.” The brand was far more expensive than anything Shane had in his house and he was dying to try it. “Will you join me in a drink?”
“Just a short one. I have to drive home.”
Shane crossed to the cabinet where he kept his liquor and barware. He poured shots into two tulip-shaped glasses with short, stout bases and handed her one.
Brandee considered it with interest. “I thought you drank scotch from tumblers.”
“Usually, but you brought me a special scotch,” he said, lifting his glass to the light and assessing the color. “And it deserves a whiskey glass.”
“What should we drink to?” she asked, snagging his gaze with hers.
Mesmerized by the shifting light in her blue-gray eyes, he said the first bit of nonsense that popped into his head. “World peace?”
“To world peace.” With a nod she tapped her glass lightly against his.
Before Shane drank, he gave the scotch a good swirl to awaken the flavors. He then lifted the glass to his nose and sniffed. A quality scotch like this was worth taking the time to appreciate. He took a healthy sip and rolled it around his tongue. At last he swallowed it, breathed deeply and waited. At around the six-second mark, the richness of the scotch rose up and blessed him with all its amazing flavors—citrus, pears, apples and plums from the sherry barrels it was aged in, along with an undertone of chocolate and a hint of licorice at the very end.
“Fantastic,” he breathed.
Brandee watched him with open curiosity, then held up her glass. “I’ve never been much of a scotch drinker, but watching you just now makes me think I’ve been missing out. Teach me to enjoy it.”
She couldn’t have said anything that pleased him more.
“I’d be happy to. First of all you want to swirl the scotch in the glass and then sniff it. Unlike wine, what you smell is what you’ll taste.”
She did as he instructed, taking her time about it. “Now what?”
“Now you’re going to take a big mouthful.” He paused while she did as instructed. “That’s it. Get it onto the middle of your tongue. You’ll begin to tease out the spice and the richness.” He let her experience the scotch for a few more seconds and then said, “Take a big breath, swallow and open your mouth. Now wait for it.”
She hadn’t blinked, which was good. If she had, it would mean the scotch flavor was too strong. Her expression grew thoughtful and then her eyes flared with understanding.
“I get it. Tangerine and plum.”
“The second sip is even better.”
Together they took their second taste. The pleasure Shane received was doubled because he was able to share the experience with Brandee. She didn’t roll her eyes or make faces like many women of his acquaintance would have. Instead, she let him lead her through an exploration of all the wonderful subtleties of the scotch.
Fifteen minutes later, they had reached a level of connection unprecedented in their prior four years of knowing each other. He was seeing a new side of Brandee. A delightful, sociable side that had him patting himself on the back for putting her in touch with Liam. Convincing her they should give dating a try was going to be way easier than he’d originally thought.
Brandee finished her last sip of scotch and set the glass aside. “I had another reason for dropping by tonight other than to say thank-you.”
Shane waited in silence for her to continue, wondering if the other shoe was about to drop.
“I thought about what you said in the diner yesterday.” She spoke slowly as if she’d put a lot of thought into what she was saying.
Shane decided to help her along. “About you needing to be kissed senseless?” He grinned when he saw the gap between her eyebrows narrow.
“About us calling a truce for two weeks,” she countered, her tone repressive. “I know how you are and I realized that after those two weeks, you’d be back to pestering me to sell the ranch.”
Right now, he didn’t really give a damn about buying her ranch, but he sensed if he stopped pestering her about it she would forget all about him. “You have a solution for that?”
“I do. I was thinking about a wager.”
Now she was speaking his language. “What sort of wager?”
“If I win you agree to give up all current and future attempts to claim Hope Springs Ranch and its land.”
“And if I win?”
“I’ll sell you my ranch.”
A silence settled between them so loud Shane could no longer hear the television in the den. Unless she was convinced she had this wager all sewn up, this was a preposterous offer for her to make. What was she up to?
“Let me get this straight,” he began, wanting to make sure he’d heard her clearly. “After years of refusing to sell me your land, you’re suddenly ready to put it on the table and risk losing it?” He shook his head. “I don’t believe it. You love that ranch too much to part with it so easily.”
“First of all, what makes you think you’re going to win? You haven’t even heard the terms.”
He arched one eyebrow. “And the second thing?”
“I said I’d sell the land. I didn’t say how much I wanted for it.”
He’d known all along that she was clever and relished the challenge of pitting his wits against hers. “Ten million. That’s more than fair market value.”
Her blue-gray eyes narrowed. She’d never get that much from anyone else and they both knew it.
“Fine. Ten million.”
The speed with which she agreed made Shane wonder what he’d gotten himself into. “And the terms of our wager?”
“Simple.” A sly smile bloomed. “For two weeks you move in and help me out at the ranch. Between calving time and the construction project going on at my camp, I’m stretched thin.”
Shane almost laughed in relief. This was not at all what he’d thought she’d propose. Did she think he’d shy away from a couple weeks of manual labor? Granted, he rarely came home with dirt beneath his fingernails, but that didn’t mean he was lazy or incompetent. He knew which end of the hammer to use.
“You need someone who knows his way around a power tool.” He shot her a lecherous grin. “I’m your man.”
“And I need you to help with the minicamp I have going next weekend.”
Now he grasped her logic. She intended to appeal to his altruistic side. She probably figured if he got a close look at her troubled-teen program that he would give up trying to buy the land. This was a bet she was going to lose. He didn’t give a damn about a camp for a bunch of screwed-up kids who probably didn’t need anything more than parents who knew how to set boundaries.
“That’s it?” He was missing something, but he wasn’t sure what. “I move in and help you out?” Living with Brandee was like a dream come true. He could survive a few backbreaking days of hard work if it meant plenty of time to convince her they could be good together for a while.
“I can see where your mind has gone and yes...” She paused for effect. “You’ll have ample opportunity to convince me to sleep with you.”
A shock as potent as if he’d grabbed a live wire with both hands blasted through him. His nerve endings tingled in the aftermath. He struggled to keep his breathing even as he considered the enormity of what she’d just offered.
“You call that a wager?” He had no idea where he found the strength to joke. “I call it shooting ducks in a barrel.”
“Don’t you mean fish?” Her dry smile warned him winning wasn’t going to be easy. “Getting me to sleep with you isn’t the wager. You were right when you said I was lacking male companionship.”
Well, smack my ass and call me a newborn. The phrase, often repeated by Shane’s grandma Bee, popped into his head unbidden. He coughed to clear his throat.
“I said you needed to be kissed senseless.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Yes. Yes. It’s been a while since I dated anyone. And I’ll admit the thought of you and I has crossed my mind once or twice.”
“Damn, woman. You sure do know how to stroke a man’s ego.”
“Oh please,” she said. “You love playing games. I thought this would appeal to everything you stand for.”
“And what is that exactly?”
“You get me to say I love you and I sell you the ranch for ten million.”
He hadn’t prepared himself properly for the devastation of that other shoe. It was a doozy. “And what needs to happen for you to win?”
“Simple.” Her smile was pure evil. “I get you to say ‘I love you’ to me.”
* * *
Brandee stood on her front porch, heart beating double-time, and watched Shane pull a duffel out of his SUV. In his other hand he held a laptop case. It was late afternoon the day after Brandee had pitched her ridiculous wager to Shane and he was moving in.
This was without a doubt the stupidest idea she’d ever had. Paying Maverick the blackmail money and quitting the TCC was looking better and better. But how would she explain her abrupt change of heart to Shane? No doubt he would consider her backpedaling proof that she was afraid of losing her heart to him.
At least she didn’t have to worry about that happening. There was only room in her life for her ranch and her camp. Maybe in a couple years when things settled down she could start socializing. She’d discovered that as soon as she’d started thinking about seducing Shane, a floodgate to something uncomfortably close to loneliness had opened wide.
“Hey, roomie,” he called, taking her porch steps in one easy bound.
Involuntarily she stepped back as he came within a foot of her. His wolfish grin was an acknowledgment of her flinch.
“Welcome to Hope Springs Ranch.”
“Glad to be here.”
“Let me show you to your room. Dinner’s at seven. Breakfast is at six. I don’t know what you’re used to, but we get up early around here.”
“Early to bed. Early to rise. I can get on board with the first part. The second may take some getting used to.”
Brandee let out a quiet sigh. Shane’s not-so-subtle sexual innuendo was going to get old really fast. It might be worth sleeping with him right away to get that to stop.
“I’m sure you’ll manage.” She led the way into the ranch house and played tour guide. “Kitchen. Dining room. Living room.”
“Nice.” Shane took his time gazing around the uncluttered open-plan space.
“Your room is this way.” She led him into a hallway and indicated a door on the left. “Guest bedrooms one and two share that bathroom. I put you in the guest suite. It has its own bathroom and opens to the patio.”
Shane entered the room she indicated and set his duffel on the king-size bed. “Nice.”
The suite was decorated in the same neutral tones found throughout the rest of the house. It was smaller than her master bedroom, but she’d lavished the same high-end materials on it.
“You’ll be comfortable, then?” She imagined his master suite at Bullseye was pretty spectacular given what she’d seen of his living room.
“Very comfortable.” He circled the bed and stared out the French doors. “So where do you sleep?”
He asked the question with no particular inflection, but her body reacted as if he’d swept her into his arms. She shoved her hands into her back pockets to conceal their trembling and put on her game face. She’d get nowhere with him if he noticed how easily he could provoke her.
“I’ll show you.”
Cringing at the thought of inviting him into her personal space, Brandee nevertheless led the way back down the hall and past the kitchen. When she’d worked with the architect, she insisted the master suite be isolated from the guest rooms. Passing her home office, Brandee gestured at it as she went by and then strode into her private sanctuary. It wasn’t until Shane stood in the middle of her space, keen eyes taking in every detail, that she realized the magnitude of her mistake.
It wasn’t that giving him a glimpse of her bedroom might clue him in to what made her tick. Or even that she’d imagined him making love to her here. It was far worse than that. She discovered that she liked having him in her space. She wanted to urge him into one of the chairs that faced her cozy fireplace and stretch out in its twin with her bare feet on his lap, letting him massage the aches from her soles with his strong fingers.
“Nice.”
Apparently this was his go-to word for all things related to decorating. She chuckled, amusement helping to ease her anxiety.
Shane shot her a questioning look. “Did I miss something?”
“You must drive your mother crazy.”
“How so?”
“She loves to decorate. I imagine she’s asked your opinion a time or two. Tonight, your reaction to every room we’ve been in has been—” she summoned up her best Shane imitation “—nice.” Her laughter swelled. “I’m imagining you doing that to your mother. It’s funny.”
“Obviously.” He stared at her as if he didn’t recognize her. But after a moment, his lips relaxed into a smile. “I’ll make an effort to be more specific from now on.”
“I’m sure your mother will appreciate that.”
Deciding they’d spent more than enough time in her bedroom, Brandee headed toward the door. As she passed Sh
ane, he surprised her by catching her arm and using her momentum to swing her up against his body.
“Hey!” she protested even as her traitorous spine softened beneath his palm and her hips relaxed into his.
“Hey, what?” He lowered his lips to her temple and murmured, “I’ve been waiting too many years to kiss you. Don’t you think it’s time you put me out of my misery?”
She should’ve expected he’d make his move as soon as possible, and should’ve been prepared to deflect his attempt to seduce her. Instead, here she was, up on her toes, flattening her breasts against the hard planes of his chest and aching for that kiss he so obviously intended to take.
“I’m going to need a couple glasses of wine to get me in the mood,” she told him, stroking her fingers over his beefy shoulders and into the soft brown waves that spilled over his collar.
“You don’t need wine. You have me.” His fingers skimmed the sensitive line where her back met her butt, sending lightning skittering along her nerve endings.
She trembled with the effort of keeping still. Seizing her lower lip between her teeth, she contained a groan, but the urge to rub herself all over him was gaining momentum. She needed to decide the smart move here, but couldn’t think straight.
Summoning all her willpower, she set her hands on his chest and pushed herself away. “It’s not going to happen, Delgado.”
Shane raked both hands through his hair, but his grin was unabashed and cocky. “Tonight or ever?”
“Tonight.” Lying to him served no purpose.
Given the seesaw of antagonism and attraction, she couldn’t imagine them lasting two weeks without tearing each other’s clothes off, but she refused to tumble into bed with him right off the bat.
“Fair enough.”
Brandee led the way back into the main part of the house and toward the kitchen. When she’d made this wager, she hadn’t thought through what sharing her home with Shane would entail. She hadn’t lived with anyone since she’d run away from her mother’s house twelve years earlier. Realizing she would have to interact with him in such close quarters threw her confidence a curve ball.
