by Robyn Grady
Some might say she’d been reckless. Perhaps that was true. But, by God, it’d felt good to do precisely what she’d wanted, when she’d wanted to. She was more like Daniel than he knew.
“Was it something I said?”
At the sound of that deep, sexy voice at her back, Elizabeth spun around. Daniel stood in the doorway leading to the bedroom, a white towel lashed around his hips. A flurry of butterflies released in her stomach as she scanned the expanse of his broad chest, the muscular definition of powerful arms and super-toned abs. Her mind wound back to the way he’d held her as he’d brought them both to the brink then had flung them both over that fiery edge. She remembered the delicious thrills that had spiraled through her and, drinking in the glorious picture of him now, she only wanted to do it again.
Some men were born lovers.
His shoulder pushed off the jamb and he sauntered toward her. With every step, that pulse low inside of her beat a little deeper and each breath came a little quicker.
“You’re leaving?” A line creased between his eyebrows.
With him close again, the magnet that had drawn them so fiercely together earlier began to tug again. But, although the idea was tempting, they couldn’t spend all day in bed.
Could they?
Forcing her eyes from his penetrating gaze, she moved to collect her handbag where she’d dropped it in the center of the room an hour earlier.
“I should be getting on my way,” she told him breezily. “You have work to do.”
“Nothing that can’t wait until we’ve enjoyed an early lunch. After just coffee this morning, I’m starved.”
A saucy smile swam in his eyes as he brought her near and nuzzled the side of her neck. A jet of warmth rushed through her veins. She was helpless not to sigh and lean in more.
“Are you sure?” she murmured as his mouth traced a sensual line up to her chin.
“One hundred percent,” he growled.
“You’re not keen to start on your drawings?”
He tipped back to look at her sideways. “Anyone would think you’re trying of get rid of me.”
She laughed. Ridiculous. “I just wasn’t expecting you to stay.”
“You have somewhere else to be?”
“Not especially. Although I was going to drop by Chad’s office and organize a donation so those flamingos can be on their way. I shouldn’t be greedy. Someone else ought to enjoy the privilege for a while.”
“Chad?” Daniel adjusted his towel. “The financial advisor who likes to keep you on his leash, that Chad?”
Her jaw set. “I explained to you—”
“Yeah. I know. He likes to look out for you.”
“There’s a clause in the will that dictates Chad must be my financial advisor.”
“That document sure likes to dictate.”
She didn’t like—and didn’t have to endure—the irritation darkening his face.
She collected her bag and, straightening the strap over her shoulder, she nodded toward the door. “I should go.”
When she tried to skirt around him, however, Daniel reached out and caught her wrist. The disapproval burning in his eyes had turned to apology.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get into that again.”
“That’s okay. I understand.”
And she did. But it was really time she left. She didn’t want to regret this time and if she stayed any longer she had a feeling that she might.
Five minutes later Elizabeth stepped out of the elevator and into the hotel foyer. Although she was seen in town, in this hotel, often, she kept her head down. She didn’t want to field any innocent questions about what had brought her here today.
She nodded to a stranger, sitting in a tub chair, who looked up from his newspaper and smiled. Stepping up her pace, she’d made it to the door when she ran into the one person she wasn’t prepared to face.
“Elizabeth? What brings you in here today?”
“Chad.” She tried to catch her breath and will the heat from seeping any higher up her neck. On a nervous laugh, she wet her lips and stammered some words. “I could ask the same.”
“I’m here to see a client.”
Now he was looking at her oddly, trying to see past the overly cheery facade.
“I was meeting a friend for lunch.”
His salt-and-pepper eyebrows nudged in. “It’s not even eleven.”
“Thought I’d book early. You know how I like particular tables.”
“Who are you meeting?”
She coughed out a short laugh. “Would you like me to hand over my appointment book?”
His eyes glinted with concern. “Elizabeth, you look shaken.”
Now her face was burning. She fanned herself.
“I do feel a little piqued.”
Moving to stand beside her, he rested a hand on her back. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”
“I’ll be fine.”
But he was already leading her to a comfortable settee and signaling to the concierge.
Then the situation got a thousand times worse.
Daniel stepped out of the elevator, his mind racing.
He’d rung to tell Rand that while he and the crew were free to leave today, the boss was staying. He was on his way now to the Cattleman’s Club to see if he couldn’t get some creative juices flowing. Somewhere the perfect idea was dying to bubble up, waiting only for the right inspiration to have it fully emerge. Thankfully, now that he’d made up his mind to step back up and face the challenge, his enthusiasm barometer had cranked up to high.
That he’d had the best sexual experience of his life this morning no doubt contributed to the energy belting through his blood. Perhaps not surprisingly, images of Elizabeth and possible club designs were converging on one another in his brain. Despite the diminished note on which she’d left, he couldn’t ignore the truth. He wanted to see her again. Asking to view her house a second time would be a good excuse. But would she want to see him again? After his dig about the will, she’d practically burned rubber leaving when she had.
Daniel was striding across the long stretch of carpet when a flash of pink caught his eye and he pulled up sharply. A rush of disbelief falling through his center, he looked harder. Elizabeth had had plenty of time to leave the hotel. He wouldn’t have minded bumping into her here now, except for her current company.
His lip curled.
Tremain.
But, given she’d already spotted him, there was nothing to do but stop and acknowledge them both. Then he realized Tremain was handing Elizabeth a glass of water and his insides clutched. Was she ill? And what was Mr. Have Finance Will Travel doing here anyway?
Her gaze on his, looking ashen and alarmed, Elizabeth got to her feet. And then, of course, Daniel knew. She wasn’t ill but taken aback, probably at running into Tremain and then again seeing the lover she’d left moments ago.
“Daniel Warren! Seems I’m stumbling into everyone here today. Chad, you remember Mr. Warren from the club.”
Tremain fairly snarled. “Yes, I remember Mr. Warren.”
Again Chad Tremain didn’t extend his hand. This time neither did Daniel. Then a shadow crossed Tremain’s face and Daniel could barely contain a grin. He wouldn’t do it to Elizabeth, but he longed to confirm what was rattling around in Tremain’s suspicious mind. Yep, she was here to see me, chum. Males of all species sensed competition at a hundred paces.
Not that Daniel was a long-term threat. He might not be flying home today but he would stay only as long as necessary. Elizabeth knew that as well as he knew her situation.
Daniel addressed Elizabeth in a formal tone. “Nice to see you again, Miss Milton.” He noted the glass and feigned a concerned look. “You’re not feeling well?”
“I was dizzy for a moment. I’m feeling much better now.”
“Can I escort you anywhere?”
“No need, Warren,” Tremain cut in. “I can look after Elizabeth’s needs.”
&n
bsp; Daniel sent Tremain a cold look and crooked grin. “Is that right?”
Tremain looked about ready to bare his teeth when Elizabeth shoved her half-empty glass at his chest.
“Would you refill this for me, please, Chad? I’m feeling flushed again.”
Tremain’s stony gaze gradually left Daniel’s to study Elizabeth’s innocent smile. He took the glass. “Certainly.”
Daniel waited until Tremain was out of earshot. “Awkward moment?”
Cutting a nervous glance around, Elizabeth tugged and straightened her jacket’s hem. In a hoarse whisper, she told him, “There’s no need for Chad to know what happened this morning.”
“I’d have no trouble informing him.”
Her eyes widened at his gravelly tone and she whispered again, sterner this time, “Don’t you dare stir up trouble.”
“On one condition.”
Striking a pose, she folded her arms. “Are you proposing blackmail?”
He wondered if he saw a touch of excitement light in her eyes.
“Nothing quite so dramatic. I’d like to visit the Milton Ranch again.”
She gaped at him for five full seconds before a smile flirted with one side of her mouth. “I’m sure Nita would love to accommodate you. I warn you, though. This time you’d better stay for dessert.”
“You can bet on it,” Daniel said.
“Can bet on what?”
Daniel flicked a glance to his left. Tremain was back. And while Daniel appreciated Elizabeth’s position with regard to privacy, he wasn’t about to hide behind corners like a kid. Elizabeth was woman enough for Tremain to hear at least part of the truth.
“I invited myself over to Milton Ranch for supper.”
Gaze firing, Tremain actually squared up. “Rather presumptuous of you, isn’t it, Warren?”
Daniel shrugged. “We Northerners are known for it.”
Chad’s shoulders went back at the same time Elizabeth stepped between them.
“Chad, did I mention I’m desperate to get those plastic flamingos off my lawn? Could we organize a donation today?”
Tremain’s glare slid away from Daniel, who hadn’t had this much fun since he’d whipped the butt of a college rival at tennis. It felt good to win.
Tremain addressed Elizabeth. “I can organize that for you, Elizabeth, although we’ll need to discuss an amount.”
“Do you have time to sit down now?” she asked.
Tremain eyed Daniel again before extending his arm for Elizabeth. But she either didn’t see the gesture or ignored it.
Daniel grinned to himself. Suck on that, Tremain.
Before moving off, she offered her hand to Daniel. “I’ll see you this evening.”
“Let’s say, seven?”
As their hands met and squeezed, a smile twinkled in her eyes. “Seven sounds just fine.”
Daniel was tempted to watch as she moved off, but to be on his way was probably wiser. He’d riled Tremain enough for one day. He asked the doorman to have his rental brought up and soon he arrived at the Texas Cattleman’s Club.
Alighting from the vehicle, he surveyed the club’s grounds. Manicured gardens and lawn were set amid majestic sprawling plains dotted with small trees, which were bowed by prevailing southern winds. His attention veered toward the club building, grand, solid and appropriate…but also, to his taste, due for at least a good brushup.
Because of the sheer size of the state, its variations in weather and scattered patterns of settlement, Texas architecture enjoyed a diversity of styles. The clubhouse was a mixture of Victorian—red granite and timber exterior, sandstone and elaborate carved woodwork interior—and Spanish Colonial, an ancestor of the ranch-style house—thick stuccoed walls and small windows that invited in the breeze and kept out the heat. The structure conveyed a sense of strength. Endurance. And that was key.
So how to keep the heart of this club while promoting the new twenty-first-century feel Abigail and her supporters were after?
Daniel was wandering around a far corner of the building when he heard a hushed but intense conversation in progress. Male voices…the words “baby” and “blackmail.” Three men came into view, huddled together beneath a giant oak. Not wanting to intrude, he was pivoting away when one of the men glanced over then all three stopped to glare.
The nearest, a tall man with brown hair and hawkish hazel eyes, edged around to face him. “Can I help you?”
Daniel held up a friendly hand. “Just taking a stroll of the grounds. Admiring the club.” When their stares intensified, he added, “The name’s Daniel Warren.”
That same man’s eyes flashed. “Abigail’s star-chitect.”
And then it clicked and Daniel straightened his spine. “And you must be Bradford Price.”
This was the man who was running for presidency of the club and Abigail Langley’s nemesis. No wonder he was looking at Daniel as if he wanted to grab him by the collar and personally escort him off the grounds. And what was that about blackmail? Such murmurings didn’t bode well for a club whose motto was Leadership, Justice and Peace.
“I’m Abigail’s guest here, yes.” Daniel jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be on my way. Let you all get back to your conversation.”
As he rotated away, Daniel saw in Brad Price’s eyes that he wondered how much of the conversation the outsider had heard. Enough to be suspicious, that’s how much. But not enough to want to dig any further. Seemed there was a whole lot more going on in Royal than an unprecedented election.
As she and Chad took a seat in a private corner of the hotel, Elizabeth got straight to business and mentioned the amount she was more than comfortable with donating to the Helping Hands Shelter in exchange for having the flamingos removed.
Sitting back, Chad slowly shook his head. “You don’t need to donate that much.”
She frowned. “It’s a wonderful cause.” One of the best, to Elizabeth’s mind. Although she kept it quiet, she’d been helping out individual families for a while now. “That women’s shelter has helped a lot of people in need, children included. It offers a wonderful service for the community.”
“No doubt. And it’s great to have such a generous spirit. You never tire of giving. But, Elizabeth, you don’t need to go overboard.”
She eyed the man who had been directing her finances—her life—since her parents’ deaths, and a sick, empty feeling caved in around her. She’d told Daniel she wasn’t a child, but the truth was Chadwick Tremain made her feel like a minor. A mere girl with no rights. She was a twenty-five-year-old woman with a sharp mind. A mind of her own.
Chad didn’t think she needed to “go overboard.”
She clasped her hands on the table before her. “Kindly have your office transfer the amount I’ve stipulated into the shelter’s account today.”
“Elizabeth, I’m telling you in my professional opinion—”
“And I’m telling you that you are my advisor, not my keeper.”
“Your father wanted your affairs looked after.”
“I can look after my own affairs.”
“In the will—”
Her fist thumped on the wood. “I’m sick of hearing about that will!”
Chad’s head snapped back. For a moment, Elizabeth thought he might raise his voice at her. But then he skipped a glance around the room and saw that no one was near enough to notice her outburst. He smoothed the line of his royal-blue tie, the one with which he always wore his diamond pin.
She’d never liked that tie.
“I should be on my way.” She stood.
So did Chad. “I wish you wouldn’t leave like this.”
She stopped, remembered how fond her father had been of this man and pulled in a leveling breath.
“I’m not ungrateful for your help—”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“But I don’t need your help.” When his face fell like a boy who’d been told his dog had run away, she softened the blow. “Or not a
s much as I may have in the past.” She thought of eighteen-year-old Daniel standing up to his parents and cutting his ties, and she lifted her chin.
“Make that transfer, please, Chad.”
As she walked out and onto Main, Elizabeth clasped her hands at her chest. Still she couldn’t stop them shaking. She’d never felt so energized. So on edge. She’d accepted her lot with regard to the ranch. Had embraced it. Why had Daniel Warren come along and turned everything upside down?
Eight
“We’re having a guest again tonight,” Elizabeth announced to Nita as she entered the Milton Ranch kitchen on the way through to her room.
Nita set down her chopping knife and followed Elizabeth down the main hall and up the stairs. “Anyone I know?”
Grinning, Elizabeth shrugged out of her jacket. “Yes, Nita. It’s Daniel Warren.”
“I’m glad to hear you sorted out your differences.”
In her bedroom, Elizabeth reached behind and unzipped her dress, remembering this morning when she’d arrived at his hotel suite door and found the courage to let him know how she’d felt. Now that time spent in Daniel’s arms, in his bed, seemed like some wild fantasy. A dream. She could easily believe she’d imagined the whole amazing interlude except for the tingling afterglow still warming her skin and the fact they were seeing each other again tonight. She wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She had every intention of repeating the experience.
As far as having sorted out their differences…
“Let’s say,” Elizabeth said, slipping off her shoes, “we’ve come to an understanding.”
“Glad to hear it. I’ll let my mother know I’ll be over tomorrow instead.”
An earlier conversation flashed to mind and Elizabeth wheeled around from her set of drawers. “Nita, I completely forgot.”
Mrs. Ramirez lived in the next town. The following day was the anniversary of her husband’s death, Nita’s father. Nita liked to keep her mother company and stay overnight.
