His Enemy's Daughter

by Sarah M. Anderson

  He leaned down, his mouth close to her ear. “You’re a terrible liar.” Her cheeks shot red as he added in a regular voice, “I have a room and you’re taking it. I’ll find another hotel.”

  “You can’t do that,” she said, like she had a choice in the matter. “There aren’t any rooms!”

  He stepped around her. “Wellington, Peter. I should have a reservation?” Looking relieved, the clerk nodded and started tapping on the keys.

  Pete could hear Chloe huffing behind him. He grinned. Giving his room to Chloe was the right thing to do. Besides, it would go a long way toward earning her trust. He’d kept his nose clean for the last month, doing nothing that would make her suspicious of his ulterior motives.

  Of course, he hadn’t exactly had the time to work on any of those ulterior motives. Flash Lawrence had screwed up his plans but good. Just keeping the wheels from falling off the All-Stars took everything he had and that was with Chloe managing the marketing and PR and high-level decisions. He should be grateful for the chance to start pushing her out.

  Why wasn’t he?

  He cut a glance to her. She was somewhere between confused and...angry, maybe? “Pete, what are you doing?” she asked. At least she didn’t sound shattered anymore.

  “If it’s not obvious, then I’m doing it wrong,” he replied with a wink. That got him a full-on glare which, oddly, made Pete felt better. If he were going to best Chloe Lawrence, he wanted her to go down fighting. There was no pride in kicking her when she was already down.

  “Sir?” the clerk said. “We have you down for a king suite, no smoking. How many keys?”

  Pete looked back at Chloe. She’d gotten close enough to touch and oh, how he wanted to touch her. What would it be like if this wasn’t an accident? What if they’d planned to get in a night early and spend the evening wrapped up in each other? He had to shift his legs to relieve the pressure. “One,” he said, nodding in her direction. “Give it to her.”

  “No, wait.” She touched him on the upper arm, her lower lip tucked under her teeth. “You can’t drive off tonight. It isn’t right.”

  He snorted. “I’m not the kind of man who would kick a woman to the curb when there’s a perfectly fine room available.”

  Her hand flattened on his arm, sending heat through the fabric of his shirt. Last time she’d touched him, there’d been too many clothes and not enough bare skin. “Pete...” she said, his name soft on her lips. “Maybe we could share?” She said it like she knew it was a bad idea.

  And it was. It was a freaking terrible idea because he didn’t want to be a gentleman about Chloe and a king-size bed. He turned into her to warn her off but the movement brought their bodies close together and that night against his pickup truck, where he’d made her come apart under his touch—it all came roaring back to him.

  He could do a lot more than make her shatter in a hurried series of blunt touches dulled through layers of fabric. He could strip her down slowly, properly worshipping each inch of skin he revealed like the goddess she was.

  He shook his head, trying to get a grip, but it wasn’t easy. She was only inches away, staring up at him with her big brown eyes. What would a gentleman do? Hell if he could remember because he did not want to be a gentleman right now. He wanted to give and take and give some more until Chloe was breathless beneath him, his name a cry of pleasure on her lips.

  He shifted again. It didn’t do a damned thing for the roaring erection barely being held in check by his belt buckle. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Her eyes darkened and he saw her throat work to swallow. No, it wasn’t a good idea. But she said, “It’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

  Oh, he was sure, too. Sure he could bare her body and be inside of her in minutes, if not sooner. He wanted her naked this time, her body spread open for him to feast on.

  The gentlemanly thing to do would be pick up his bag, do an about-face and march his butt right back out to his car. If he drove long enough, he’d find a small town with a room available. The smart thing to do would be to put as much distance between him and this woman as possible.

  Pete had never claimed to be that smart.

  The clerk cleared his throat. “How many keys?”

  Pete cupped her cheek in his hand, watching her eyelashes flutter at the touch. She was so warm, so soft. “You can have the room.”

  It wasn’t his last grasp at decency, but it was damned close.

  Chloe took a long breath and said, “Two, please. But I’m paying you back for the room, Wellington.”

  He chuckled. Yeah, this was how he wanted her—a battle of the equals. God, he liked her like this. “Like hell you are, Lawrence.” He turned to the clerk. “Two keys. One bill.”

  The clerk nodded, his relief obvious. He made promises about giving Chloe extra rewards points and maybe Pete got some, too—he wasn’t paying attention. He was busy trying to game plan the rest of his night.

  The mess Flash had made had been both a blessing and a curse. It had kept Pete busy trying to reassure everyone associated with each All-Stars rodeo—riders and contractors, not to mention the local rodeo boards—that the All-Stars was safe and solid and going strong. The other parts of his plan had languished under the sheer amount of work he had to do, but he was happy to do it because he wanted his rodeo back in one piece, not in tattered remains.

  But it was a blessing, too, because even though he hadn’t moved forward with his plans to push Chloe out, it’d happened almost by accident anyway. She dealt with the press, smoothing over the losses of both Tex and Flash. She handled the marketing and distribution and her clothing line. She hadn’t dealt with a single stock contractor in almost a month. How much would it take to turn the contractors away from her?

  The clerk handed her both keys and she turned to him. “Shall we?”

  “Let’s.”

  That one blisteringly hot moment against his truck notwithstanding, Chloe was making it almost too easy to wall her off from the day-to-day operations. As long as Pete could keep his hands and other body parts to himself, he could just keep on letting things play out. The further Chloe got from the running of the actual rodeo, the harder it would be for her to step back in and the more people would resist Pete leaving.

  On the other hand, he had one night alone in a hotel room with her. This was the sort of opportunity that didn’t come around every day. But was it worth it, wrapping himself up further in her?

  They walked down the hall to the elevator silently. Chloe clutched both key cards in her hand. All Pete needed to do was to keep walking out the other exit door at the end of this hall and back out to the parking lot. That was it.

  But then she turned to him as the elevator door dinged open and said, “Coming?”

  To hell with his long-term plans. Chloe was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and he’d be a fool to pass her up. “Yeah.”

  They maneuvered their bags into the elevator and stood silently as the door closed. Pete gave her to the count of three to lay down her rules, but all she did was fiddle with the key cards. So he took the reins. “Thinking about how you want this to go?”

  She startled and stared at him with her huge eyes. “What?”

  “Tonight. How you want this to go.” She blinked a few times at him, her mouth opened slightly. Was he imagining things or was she breathing harder? “The way I see it, we have three options.”

  No, he wasn’t imagining it. Her body canted toward his ever so slightly. “And those are?”

  He was more than tempted to press her against the back of the elevator and skip the first two options. But this was his very last attempt at decency. “The first option is that I spend the night on the sofa while you sleep on the far side of the king bed and neither of us moves for fear of disturbing the other, leaving us tired and cranky tomorrow.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “That’s an
option?”

  “Not my favorite. Or,” he went on, “option two is that we decide we’re rational, mature adults who can share a bed while keeping our hands to ourselves and then, in a bold display of that maturity, we line up pillows down the center of the bed so we each stay on our own side. We’ll lay awake all night, staring at the ceiling, wondering if the other person is thinking the same thing we are, leaving us tired, cranky and frustrated tomorrow.”

  The elevator began to slow as they reached their floor. “So, that leaves option three as...”

  He reached out, stroking his fingertips over the curve of her cheek. “We take a small break from our previous agreement that, as coworkers, we shouldn’t spend the night together and then whatever happens, happens.”

  A furrow appeared between her eyebrows but even so, she leaned into his touch. Not a lot, but enough. “Whatever, huh?”

  He grinned. Because that had not been a no.

  “Let me love on you a little, Chloe. I’ll take care of you tonight. Tomorrow, we can go back to the way we were.”

  “What if we can’t?”

  It was a fair question and one he didn’t have an answer to. He stroked her skin as the elevator doors opened. With a nod of his head toward the hallway before them, he replied, “Then we go forward as best we can.”

  She gasped as he grabbed her bag and headed toward the room. After a moment, he heard her behind him.

  He had to stop at the door and wait for her because she held all the cards here—key and otherwise. She didn’t look at him as she unlocked the door, but she held it open for him, so that counted for something. He set her bag down on the bed but left his on the floor. Then he crossed to the small desk and flipped on the light.

  When he turned around, Chloe was half in shadows. Every fiber of his being was screaming to go to her, to pull her into his arms and kiss her hard, to make that decision for her. Or at least, make it easier. But he didn’t want to overwhelm her better angels because he knew if he did, tomorrow would be that much harder. Worse, because tomorrow they wouldn’t have Flash’s messes to clean up. It would, God willing, be a normal day at a normal rodeo.

  Speaking of... “What about the rodeo?” she asked, taking a small step toward the light.

  “What about it?”

  She gave him a dull look. “Look, option three is a bad idea twice over. Either you’ll hold whatever over my head in this plot you’re working on to steal the rodeo away or we’ll still be coworkers who shouldn’t even attempt the maturity of pillow barriers.”

  Yeah, that stung. He hadn’t said a damned thing about what’d happened in Missouri, except to tell her he wouldn’t use sex against her. But then again, he couldn’t blame her for being cautious. “Either you trust me or you don’t.”

  She looked away first, running her hands through her hair. “I’m going to take a shower. I had a bad meeting and a terrible flight and—” she swallowed. “And I’m grateful that you’re sharing the room with me.”

  Hell. He crossed the room in a few long strides and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry you had a crappy day,” he said into her hair.

  She stiffened, as if she expected him to press his case, but all he did was hold her and after a long moment, she melted into him. “It did suck,” she admitted. “What are you doing here early?”

  He chuckled. “Do you know how hard it is to get from East Texas to this part of Oregon? It would’ve been less painful if I’d driven. What was your meeting?”

  “Oh, that.” She sighed heavily, causing her chest to rub against his. “Family stuff.”

  That couldn’t be good. If Milt or Oliver Lawrence decided to take a more active role in the All-Stars, Pete would be in danger of losing everything he’d worked for because he wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with either man.

  But then again, this was the Lawrence family, so he made an educated guess. “Flash causing trouble again?”

  She didn’t quite pull off a grin, but the eye roll was classic Chloe. “You have no idea.”

  “No,” he murmured, lowering his head to hers, “but I’m starting to get one.”

  Unlike the kiss a month ago, this was not hard or hurried. It was a soft meeting of the lips, a promise of something more. Chloe’s arms tightened around his waist, making her breasts press against his chest and his groin hit her hipbone. Fire licked through his veins and he started praying that she’d decided on option three because frustrated was not going to be strong enough to describe his state if he had to bunk down on the sofa.

  Her tongue traced the seam of his lips and he almost groaned at the touch because it sure seemed like option three was going to be the big winner. But instead he pulled away and forced himself to say, “You—shower.”

  Which was not the most verbose thing he’d ever said, but it was all he was capable of. Another moment in her arms, and he wouldn’t be able to walk away. Hell, he wouldn’t be able to walk, not with the erection he was working on.

  She nodded and took that all-important step away, touching her fingertips to her lips as if she couldn’t believe he had just kissed her.

  When she got to the bathroom door, she looked back. The full force of her desire hit him hard and threatened to send him to his knees. But before he could take another step toward her, she closed the door and shot the lock.

  Oh, yeah. It was stupid to risk everything for a night with Chloe, but one thing was clear—that woman was worth it.

  Nine

  What the hell was she doing?

  That was the question Chloe asked herself repeatedly as hot water sluiced over her shoulders and down her back. The fact that she was even considering spending the night with Pete was insane. What happened before in Missouri had been...just one of those things. Her adrenaline had been pumping from the fight and she’d needed to let off a little steam. She hadn’t been there for Pete—he’d just been the safest, most convenient option. They’d gotten swept up in the moment and that was that. No big deal.

  And this was Pete Wellington, for heaven’s sake. The man had done his level best to make her life a living hell for the last ten and a half years. At every turn, he had criticized, undermined and generally made a huge pain of himself. She could still hear her father’s ranting in her ear from this morning, demanding to know how she could dare trust him, how she could dare risk the All-Stars? Or, worse, when Dad had stopped yelling long enough to take a breath, Oliver’s sullen glares and his quiet accusation, “I thought you said you could handle the rodeo yourself.”

  Yeah, well—that had been before Flash had committed assault and before Flash made good on his promise to tell Dad and Oliver about Pete unless Chloe ended his suspension early so he could ride again.

  It’d also been before Pete had turned out not to be the villain she had pegged him for.

  The next time she saw Flash, she was going to wring his neck. The nerve of that idiot. Seriously, all he did was get pissed whenever someone suggested he’d only gotten ranked in the All-Stars because he traded on the family name. But the moment things got messy, what did Flash do? Tried to blackmail his own sister so he could get around the rules that applied to everyone else.

  By God, if he had the nerve to show up at the rodeo in two days’ time and do anything that even looked like smirk, she was going to finish him, and he’d deserve it.

  She heard a thump from the room. Flash was a problem but he wasn’t the problem she had to deal with right now. That honor went to Pete freaking Wellington and his thoughtful gift of a hotel room and his tempting offers to take care of her.

  She shouldn’t even be considering option three. She should offer to take the sofa or sleep on the floor or anything, really, that kept at least a modicum of distance between her and Pete.

  But she was considering it. Oh, she was.

  If it were just because he’d brought her to a shattering orgasm in
less than five minutes with nothing more than his fingers, that’d be enough of a reason to give him a second chance. He’d been hot stuff back when she’d first laid eyes on him almost ten years ago, and since then? Pete was the finest of wines, getting better with age until he was perfect. And last time, she hadn’t gotten to see the rest of him. She’d barely gotten to touch him.

  She wanted him. Not just for a quick climax—although she was never one to pass on those. A night with him loving on her? God, she’d never heard anything so tempting as that.

  And then he had to go and offer up his room—multiple times—before he’d even mentioned option three. She had no doubt he could take care of her sexual needs but the man had made her health and well-being his priority and that was a dangerous thing. She knew how to protect herself from the Pete Wellington who hated her guts, detested her brothers and lived to exact his revenge on her father.

  She didn’t know how to protect herself from the Pete who cared for her.

  Ever since he’d barged into her dressing room a month ago, he’d done nothing but defend her, promote her ideas and who could forget about the orgasm? For the last month, he’d worked his butt off for the All-Stars and there hadn’t been so much as a single whisper of betrayal.

  She wasn’t so stupid that she hadn’t been checking up on him. Of course she had. He was doing his job well. Sadly, better than she could because no one wanted to take the All-Stars in a new direction simply because the Princess of the Rodeo said so.

  But all of her ideas, coming from Pete? People got on board. Fast.

  Truly, it had been an awful day. And there was no guarantee that her father or Oliver or, worst of all, Flash wouldn’t show up at this weekend’s rodeo and cause all sorts of trouble. No, the worst would be if all three of them came together.

  She shuddered and pushed the thought from her mind. The important thing was that they weren’t here now—Pete was, with his thoughtful gestures and full-on charm, his good hugs and better kisses, his beautiful damned eyes and hot body.