by Rita Herron
At least she hoped he’d listen.
Dex Montgomery, doctor turned entrepreneur, was a shrewd businessman and seemed to have a heart for nothing but stock dividends and flow charts.
Jessica was the opposite. She loved her patients, the children at the hospital who needed tender loving care along with medical treatment. And she intended to see that they received the best of both. After all, the kids were her family now. The only one she would ever ha
She couldn’t let them down.
According to Dr. Epstein, she only had two weeks to get the money, too, or the plans for the children’s wing would be cut off completely. Besides, there were a few children who desperately needed money for treatment now.
Gathering her composure, she straightened her suit jacket and searched the crowd flooding the baggage-claim area for Dr. Montgomery. She was a respected pediatrician, a woman who’d risen from poverty to make a good life for herself by caring for others and keeping them from suffering. She refused to let Dex Montgomery intimidate her or reduce her to a jittery female.
His six-foot-plus, Armani-clad self would appear any second. All she had to do was play nice, dig deep enough to unearth his compassionate side, and ask him for money.
Piece of cake.
Yeah, right.
Facing a firing squad might be easier than getting money from a Montgomery.
A DEEP SENSE of panic mushroomed inside Ty as the plane coasted to the runway. Two hours and a few drinks ago, this trading places idea had sounded like fun.
But now his beer-induced bravado had worn off and reality had hit with the force of a two-by-four.
This charade was a mistake.
He should get off the plane and book a return trip to Bozeman. And fast.
The plane screeched to a halt, rolled to the gate, and when the seat belt sign dinged, impatient passengers flooded the aisles, obviously anxious to return to their lives.
His stomach twisted. He should be getting back to his life—in Montana. Mending fences and herding cattle. Trying to figure out a way to improve things.
Not playing dress-up in this uncomfortable suit and choking tie. How did Dex stand it?
Because he’d never known anything else.
An ache, soul-deep, settled in Ty’s chest. Somewhere in midair, he had contemplated what his family had done to him and to Dex, and his shock had dwindled, turning into anger and hurt. His loving grandparents, the ones who’d drilled into him his entire value system, had lied to him, had denied him knowledge of his own brother and his other grandparents.
He wasn’t sure if he could forgive them.
Not only had they denied him knowledge about his father, but they’d robbed him of knowing his identical twin brother. What would his parents have thought if they’d known their boys had been split up after their deaths?
Maybe he would find out when he arrived, and maybe he’d learn a little about the man who’d fathered him.
And about why the Montgomerys had wanted nothing to do with him.
People rushed down the aisle, and Ty finally stood, reaching overhead for his beat-up duffel. Instead, his hand brushed over the soft leather garment bag Dex had shoved in his hands. He couldn’t forget that damn briefcase, either. Dex had gotten so riled when Ty had almost left it in the bathroom after the’d exchanged clothes, a vein had bulged in his forehead. Apparently, Dex guarded the hunk of leather, along with his cell phone, as if they were his life. Ty scoffed. The bag alone cost more than he paid his ranch hands in a day. He wiggled his cramped toes inside the custom-made Italian shoes and almost tripped. The stupid shoes gave no support to his ankles. He certainly couldn’t ride with them.
Of course, Dex didn’t need a horse; he had cars and limos and taxis.
No, Dex had money. The kind that could have helped the Coopers.
But Ty didn’t want their money. He simply wanted some answers about his past. The Montgomerys had given him up without batting an eye, and they’d written off Ty’s sweet, loving mother because she was a rancher’s daughter. Apparently they’d thought the Coopers weren’t good enough. Just as Paula had thought he wasn’t good enough for her.
The old pain haunted him.
I could never live on a ranch, she had said.
And he couldn’t live anywhere else.
Besides, Dex seemed to have some strange ideas about his wealth himself. What was the last thing Dex had told him? Be wary of everyone, especially the women. They all want me for my money.
Ty could only imagine. No one had ever wanted him for his money. But he had certainly been exploited by a woman. Again, he thought of Paula. Just the sound of her name brought back bad memories.
Yes, he’d better be on his toes.
The ones that were now pinched and aching inside Dex’s stiff Italian loafers. He slowly made his way out of the plane towards the gate. Thank goodness Dex’s financial advisor planned to meet him in baggage claim. He’d follow her lead and let her show him the ropes. And when he met his other grandparents, maybe he would understand how they could keep one grandson and throw away the other.
JESSICA WRUNG HER HANDS together, trying to calm her nerves as she saw Dex Montgomery’s tall, commanding presence rise above the crowd. The man was so darned good-looking he would stand out anywhere. His dark sexy gaze caught hers and a twitch of a smile actually pulled at the corner of his mouth, then he scanned the crowd without speaking.
Her stomach quivered, her pulse clamored and perspiration beaded her forehead.
She assured herself it was simply nerves.
She had too much riding on this project.
His chin lifted, and he strode right past her as if he didn’t even know her.
Sure, he expected Bridget, but did he have to pretend she didn’t exist? She called his name, fighting irritation, “Dr. Montgomery.”
He continued looking across the crowd, oblivious.
She threaded her way between an overweight man and some teenagers until she stood behind him. “Dr. Montgomery.”
He still didn’t respond, so she gently caught his arm. “Dr. Montgomery, I’m here to pick you up
His startled gaze swung back to her, a moment of heat splintering through her as he stared into her eyes. His ruggedly handsome face sent a flutter through her stomach, and his eyes were so dark they reminded her of chocolate kisses. She loved chocolate.
“Bridget couldn’t make it,” she said, shaking off the unsettling feeling. “Something about a business dinner. I offered to pick you up instead.”
He stared at her as if he didn’t recognize her, his thick dark brows drawn together. He’d let his hair grow, too, about a half-inch longer than she remembered, giving him a rugged, primitive appearance. He probably wouldn’t use an out-of-town barber, she thought, dismissing the slight difference and its effect on her. “Do you have more luggage?”
He shook his head, indicating the garment bag. “I carried on.”
She nodded. “Come on, then. I parked in the short-term lot.” He headed toward the MARTA sign and she frowned. What was wrong with him? He’d been in the Hartsfield airport at least a thousand times.
“It’s this way.” She laid her hand on his arm again. “Are you all right, Dr. Montgomery?”
He tipped his head and started toward the exit. “Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day.” He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she’d never seen him use. The movement spiked the ends, sending a lock over his high forehead. Somehow it made him seem vulnerable. “I fell asleep on the plane. I guess I’m not awake yet.”
“Yes, I heard your flight was delayed.” She led him through the doors toward her trusted VW. “Don’t worry. I’ll have you home in no time.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Worry laced his deep voice. “After all, it’s awfully late for a woman to be downtown alone.”
Jessica faltered, surprised by his concern. Maybe Dr. Montgomery really had a soft side hiding beneath that steel business veneer. “No, I don’t min
d at all. In fact, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you on the way.”
Trepidation filled her, but she gathered her courage. She’d just have to use the old trick her speech teacher in college had told her about—she’d picture him naked while she gave her sales pitch about the children’s wing. Then she wouldn’t be so nervous.
TY FELT NAKED without his Stetson.
Was that the reason this sexy little slip of a woman kept looking at him the way she did? Had he somehow already blown his new identity?
No, she couldn’t possibly know.
Except he hadn’t recognized her, and he obviously should have. But the noisy airport had his head swimming.
Who the hell was this knockout woman, anyway?
A co-worker? Friend? Lover?
She was a little bitty thing, probably about five-three, and she had enormous grass-green eyes and auburn hair with flecks of red and orange that reminded him Montana sunset. Soft pink lips created a pouty little mouth that begged to be kissed, and the outline of her jacket showcased breasts that would just fit into the palms of his hands. Heat curled low in his belly, the pool of hunger undeniable.
Taking a deep breath to gather his control, he followed her through the dimly lit parking garage, his eyes feasting on the sway of her hips and the way that dark-blue skirt framed her behind. She had shapely legs, too, as if she exercised regularly, although he couldn’t imagine her wearing dusty jeans or doing hard work on a ranch, like the women he’d grown up with, the type of country girl he’d probably marry one day.
This woman was more like Paula. Educated, prissy, soft.
He’d learned his lesson dating a city girl a long time ago. Once burned, twice shy.
“My car’s over here. I hope you won’t be too uncomfortable, Dr. Montgomery.”
A lover wouldn’t call him doctor, would she?
“We’ll just put your bag in the trunk.”
She stopped at an old red VW bug, or what he guessed had once been red. The paint had faded, giving it a splotched effect, and the sunlight had turned the red to a dull orange.
He’d expected a limo, or Bridget to show up in an expensive sports car or Mercedes. Then again, he didn’t really care. He was a humble guy himself.
His brother’s words rang in his head. Be wary of everyone, especially the women. They all want me for your money.
This knockout had said she wanted to talk to him on the way home. Judging from her ancient car, she probably had financial troubles. Had she offered him a ride because she wanted money from Dex?
And if so, how far would she go to get it?
Chapter Two
Ty wouldn’t mind being seduced by her, he admitted silently. But he would never mix a relationship with business, especially with a woman like that woman.
Besides, Grandma Cooper would paddle his behind.
God, he missed her and the family. They’d probably be planning a welcome-home dinner for him right about now; he could practically smell the steaks sizzling on the grill and taste the buttery home-grown corn and biscuits.
Would the Montgomerys have a special welcome-home dinner, too? With Dex’s favorite foods?
Worry knotted his stomach. He had no idea what Dex’s favorite food was. How would he pull this off? Could he really pretend to be someone he’d just met?
What did he really know about his twin brother?
Nothing, except the information he’d crammed into his brain those few hours they’d sat in the bar. He and Dex might share the same genes, the same face, but they were completely different men.
He wanted to get to know his brother better. When this was over,
The stunning auburn-haired woman next to him cranked the engine, then leaned outside the vehicle, removed a softball-sized rock from beneath her wheel and slid it behind the front seat.
“I have to get Nellie’s emergency brakes repaired,” she said.
He arched a dark brow. “Nellie?”
She nodded, a red blush creeping up her cheek to the auburn roots of her hair. “I named her in college.” She patted the scarred dashboard. “We’ve been together a long time.”
He couldn’t resist a chuckle. Should he offer to fix Nellie’s brakes for her? He was a decent mechanic; he’d fixed his share of farm equipment. Then again, did Dex know anything about cars?
Probably not. And if he did, Ty felt certain he didn’t actually work on them. Dex wouldn’t want to get grease on his expensive suits.
While the woman maneuvered her way through the parking-garage maze, Ty mentally reviewed the few things Dex had told him about himself. Dex had a medical degree, but he’d traded in his stethoscope for a computer. Now, he ran a huge medical conglomerate called Modern Medical Maintenance, Inc. which he’d affectionately called M3I. As if a man could be affectionate about a medical empire, Ty thought. The company owned a chain of cutting-edge facilities throughout the Southeast that sounded like they focused more on maintaining a profit margin than providing quality medical care.
Ty winced. Was he any better, though? He wanted more money to better the ranch.
Hell yes, he was different. He wanted to increase the ranch’s profits so he could make life easier for his family. But he’d never take advantage of people’s business problems or medical conditions to make a buck.
The VW hit a pothole, and he tried to adjust his legs in the cramped space, but his knees hit the dash and his head thumped the ceiling. The city air, the constant barrage of noises and the small space damn near suffocated him.
Oblivious to Ty’s discomfort, the woman wove into the fast-moving traffic. Even this late in the evening, cars flew by as if they were racing in the Indy 500. Ty searched his memory for the woman’s name. But Dex hadn’t mentioned anyone specifically, except for Bridget, his financial advisor.
A car slowed in front of them and several cars blasted their horns. Ty held onto the seat as more horns blared, and a man in a van rolled down his window, shouting obscenities. Lord help them if these maniacs ever came to Rolling Bend and got stopped by a cattle crossing. Where was everyone going in such a hurry?
Buildings and billboards raced by, along with skyscrapers as they drove through downtown Atlanta. A million lights glittered from high-rise apartments and offices, obliterating the stars he might have seen in the Montana sky. How did these people live without fresh air?
“Dr. Montgomery,” the woman began. “I know I mentioned this to you before, but I hope you’ll reconsider giving me the money.”
He gripped the seat edge. Maybe they did business like this in the city, but he was a Montana boy at heart. Sucking in a deep breath, he resorted to the pat answer Dex had told him to use.
“I’m sorry, Sugar, but all my financial decisions go through my advisor.”
“Sugar?”
Judging from the tone of her voice, Ty had committed a cardinal sin. “Miss—”
“It’s not Sugar or Miss,” she said in a tight voice. “It’s Dr. Stovall.” She flashed him an angry look, then pressed her pouty lips together.
He fidgeted in the seat, feeling like a fish out of water, dying on the dusty ground. What the hell had he gotten himself into? At this rate, he’d be discovered before he ever met the Montgomerys.
SO MUCH FOR being indebted, Jessica thought, fuming as she exited I-85 and veered through the Buckhead streets toward Dex Montgomery’s estate.
He’d probably been offended by her car. Or maybe he thought she was foolish for being so tenderhearted she’d actually named her car Nellie.
Heck, why had she told him that little bit of trivia?
She’d just been so nervous and for a minute, he’d looked at her as if he was actually attracted to her, like he would really be interested in what she had to say, so she’d thought she’d seize the moment before it seized her, and she’d started babbling.
Darn it, she’d promised herself no man would ever affect her this way again. Hadn’t she learned anything from her painful divorce? Jack had been
a charmer, too. But looks didn’t mean a man had character or that he could accept flaws in someone else.
She didn’t even like Dex Montgomery; how could she let him rattle her so? For heaven’s sakes, he didn’t even use his medical degree to help people; he’d swapped it for stock options and boardrooms.
No, it wasn’t his potent sexuality. She was simply nervous because she’d hoped for his help in funding the hospital wing, and she had so much riding on his decision.
And he’d made the decision in a skinny minute without a single humane thought about whom he might be hurting. Why shouldn’t he? The man had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and had never wanted for anything, while she’d struggled for every scrap of education and every recognition she’d achieved. And those poor families and their sick children…
She stopped at the entrance gate to the long wooded drive of his estate, cranked her window down, refusing to apologize as the glass squeaked and squawked. Finally, she turned to Dex, confused at the baffled look on his face as he stared at the security gate. She was tempted to leave him here and make him walk up the drive.
Then again, maybe he was simply tired tonight, and tomorrow would be different.
Yeah, right.
Still, she pasted on a smile, forcing herself to be professional. “Go ahead, Dr. Montgomery, tell your security to let us through so you can get home to your family. I know you must be anxious to see them.”
ANXIOUS w definitely the word, Ty thought, as he cleared his throat and tested his brother’s name—his new name for the next week or so—“This is Dex, and uh, Dr. Stovall.” He glanced at the doctor’s face, hoping to see some hint of forgiveness for his blunder, but she stared straight ahead as if he didn’t exist.
