Taming The Cowboy (She's in Charge Book 4)

by Layla Valentine

  And I didn’t feel the least bit bad about it.

  “So which is it?” I asked sweetly. “Did poor little me somehow turn the tables on a rival who tried to spy on me in the hopes of ruining me? Or is this all some kind of unfortunate misunderstanding?”

  He hissed through his teeth. “This isn’t the end of this. You’ll be hearing from me again!”

  “Better call up your lawyers, buddy, because if this conversation is any indication, you’ll probably admit to murder and then blame your victim for getting you sentenced.” I chuckled as he spluttered louder. “You got yourself fired. Keep flapping your mouth and you’ll get yourself arrested, too.”

  He slammed the phone down, and I leaned back in my chair, laughing.

  A few seconds later, Gregory came over and stuck his head in. “So what just happened?”

  I smirked. “That was Arthur Kendall, calling to throw a tantrum at me because his attempt at industrial espionage backfired spectacularly. They’ve ousted him as CEO, and apparently this is somehow my fault.”

  Gregory chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Guess all’s well that ends well.”

  I nodded cheerfully. “Absolutely.”

  “Speaking of which…how are things with the ex-actor?”

  My smile only widened. “Not bad at all, actually.”

  Calvin and I had been seeing each other occasionally the last three months, though we had been at arm’s length at first. I had to be careful. I knew he was a good liar when he wanted to be. But in three months, I hadn’t caught him in a single one.

  So far, so good.

  I had stayed out of bed with him for a solid month, not trusting myself. Sex with him was like chocolate—one taste left me addled and wanting more, and not really thinking straight about anything else for a while. Besides…I wanted to make extra sure that his feelings for me didn’t start and end in his pants.

  He took my caution in stride, telling me he was just glad to have me back in his life. And more and more, I had come to believe him. He was willing to put in the work to get my trust back. He had taken risks for me. I would never forget how my heart had felt the day I had discovered his deception—but I would never forget how he made me feel every other day either.

  I called Calvin as soon as I got off work, and he invited me over to his ranch to celebrate. I hadn’t come to visit there since the weather had turned, but he had kept working on it as best he could, using the last of that fool Kendall’s payments to refurbish and restock. I was eager to see the results.

  The small ranch did look a lot better when I pulled into his long driveway. He had replaced the fencing, finished cutting down weeds and brush, and repaired the barn, along with giving it a fresh coat of red and white paint. Chickens milled in a new run dominated by a large, sturdy henhouse. And Calvin was just coming out of the barn with a bucket of feed for them, which he dumped into their feeder before looking up at my approaching car.

  He walked over to the carport to meet me, slapping bits of chaff off his work gloves before removing them. His tan had deepened and no longer looked red around the edges. He was finally an actual, full-fledged cowboy, and despite looking tired, he was smiling easily.

  “Hey there! Congratulations on owning that jackass. How are you doing?”

  I got out and came out for a hug and a kiss, smelling his clean sweat through his shirt as he pulled me snugly against him. “I feel great. Sick of city traffic, but that’s nothing new. Gregory thinks I should use the helicopter more often, since I’m in a penthouse with a helipad. But I can’t really justify the luxury.”

  I could afford it…but that didn’t make me that comfortable with it. Not to save myself a drive that was thirty minutes on a bad day.

  “Could if you had a longer commute,” he suggested. “Like three hours or so. Helicopter would turn that into twenty minutes, tops.”

  My eyebrows rose as he let me go and took my hand to lead me inside. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Just the best of both worlds. C’mon, let’s get some supper in you and I’ll tell you about it.” He winked and opened the door for us.

  Steak and potatoes with greens and pecan pie, all of it homemade. “You’re a hell of a cook,” I complimented, and he grinned.

  “Just one more thing I’m bringing to the table,” he said as he sliced off a big chunk of his steak. He stuffed it into his mouth and chewed heartily. “Eat up.”

  “Trying to fatten me up, huh?” I cut a much daintier slice and took a bite.

  He smirked. “Maybe.”

  He laughed the whole way through my tale of this afternoon’s phone call. “I can’t believe that guy,” he said and then chuckled when I was done. “What did he think was gonna happen when he went and told on himself like that? Did he think you would apologize? Give him money? What?”

  “Who even knows? He’s as incomprehensible as Bella.” And maybe that was it. Bella had managed to trick me because I couldn’t imagine someone going bad like that and betraying a close friend. It wasn’t something I would ever do.

  “Yeah, I don’t get it either. Maybe he really is just a sixty-five-year-old toddler. Or plain evil.”

  “Both is probably most accurate.” I took a bite of my greens. “Childish and corrupt as hell. I think he never imagined that being that way could lead to consequences.”

  “But they did. And now he and Bella are both out of a job.” He chomped down on more steak.

  Of course, he was out of a job, too—but I had never seen him happier. “What did your former agent say?”

  “Oh, he threw a shit fit. Especially when I pointed out that suing me would result in his part in an industrial espionage case being pointed out to the authorities. He’s just the same as they are. But there’s nothing he can do to me without facing consequences that he’s plenty scared of.”

  “Good. That’s great news. I was a little worried he might try something anyway. But if he does, the whole thing goes to court, and he can try and explain to his ex-client why they’re both going to jail now.” I stabbed my fork into my steak and sliced off another piece.

  “I don’t think it will come to that. He looked ready to piss himself when he found out we’d be joining forces on any legal action. He at least knows we have him dead to rights.”

  I nodded, my shoulders relaxing. “One more step toward closing out this whole damn thing, then.”

  “Yeah. Which means I can move on to the next big thing I want to propose.”

  I set down my fork and looked at him. “Sorry, what?”

  He gestured around. “Well, you always wanted to live on a ranch, even if you’re not a full-time rancher.”

  “I…” He wanted me to move in. And I had to admit, it was damn tempting. Things may have started off on the worst possible foot with us, but now, my fake cowboy was a real one, and the same could be said about our relationship. “I can’t simply quit my job. I’m the CEO. I’m needed.”

  “Not suggesting that. You have a helicopter, remember? You could work remotely some days, fly in others. I can handle stuff here. I grew up here. Getting back into ranching’s just like riding a bicycle.” He smiled.

  “That’s fast,” I said thoughtfully.

  “But you’re thinking about it.” His eyes twinkled.

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes, I am. I love you, and you know I love the ranch. But…” I hesitated. Was it really such a leap of faith? Moving in, seeing if we could make a life together?

  “But what, sweetheart?” he asked gently. “Too soon?”

  “I…” Either I trust him or I don’t, I told myself. If I don’t, I have no business being here at all. If I do, what’s the problem?

  “You know what?” I said finally, smiling at him. “Okay. Let’s try it, and see where we are in six months.”

  “Well, all right.” He beamed and got up to kiss me. “Guess I’d better make space for your stuff.”

  “Lots of space,” I said with a wink.

  Chapter 2
2

  Ruth

  A Year Later

  A year after I moved in with Calvin, everything in my life had changed. Sometimes in big ways: I wore a ring now, I spent three days a week helping Calvin around our ranch, I telecommuted another two, and I flew in to the office via helicopter on Monday, Friday and whenever we had meetings. Some of the changes were smaller: I had a tan year-round, and I had gained a few pounds. Of course, there was a good reason for that last one, one I was looking forward to telling my employees and the board during our company Christmas party that afternoon.

  Calvin was coming with me. He usually came to office parties with me these days, and was always the easygoing, friendly country guy I had come to love. He had told the truth; it wasn’t an act. And he really had never lied to me again. My employees liked him. He and Gregory had actually become friends, and my new assistant, Amara, always had a smile for him.

  We came in with our arms loaded with gifts for everyone, which we set down on the end of the break-room table to open after lunch. The potluck was in full swing; everyone was lined up with their plates. We stopped to set two of Calvin’s holiday pies—pecan and key lime—in the dessert section, and grabbed our plates to join the line. Everyone was talking, laughing.

  “You all right?” Gregory had noticed first the picky way that I loaded my plate: bland foods, starches, white meat chicken—and a giant mound of collard greens which I just couldn’t get enough of these days. “Never seen you turn down spicy food before.”

  Calvin and I exchanged conspiratorial smiles before I turned back to Gregory. “Oh, it’s fine. I’ve just had a sensitive stomach lately.” At his lifted eyebrow, I just smiled wider. He would have to wait for the news along with everyone else.

  I played innocent all through the meal and gifts, though I felt like I was going to burst. Finally, when everyone was fed and had received both their presents and their bonus checks, I stood up to make the announcement.

  “I have an extra surprise this holiday season. I know nobody was expecting this one, and I wasn’t either. In about four months or so, I’m going to need to take a temporary leave of absence. I’ll still be telecommuting some to help with the big decisions, and I’ll work hard to delegate as much as possible before I go. But I’ll be gone for at least six months.”

  Gregory got it first, before I even announced it, his eyes lighting up and a look of amusement on his face. He now had four at home himself; he was a veteran of this. But this? This was my first time.

  “We’re having a baby,” I explained. “I’m about three months along.”

  The crowd didn’t so much erupt as all start talking at once. We were a fairly sedate bunch these days, too busy with all the clients we had picked up thanks to Star of Texas’s failures. Thanks to Kendall’s screw-ups, we had been backlogged with work for almost the whole year.

  Still…smiling faces, congratulations, most heartily from Gregory, who informed us both that we would have to get used to sleep deprivation, and that he wanted baby pictures as soon as they were available.

  “Get all the sleep you can now, seriously. In reality, ‘sleeping like a baby’ means waking up every two hours and yelling.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I laughed, and Calvin shrugged.

  “Sounds about like lambing season,” he quipped.

  Gregory rolled his eyes. “Oh boy, are you two in for it.”

  We laughed, though I knew he had a point. The road ahead was going to be full of unknowns.

  But that was all right. As we left the party for a more private celebration, my arm slung through that of my very own cowboy, I was all smiles.

  After all, if we could handle last year’s drama and still come out strong together, we could handle anything.

  The End

  I hope you enjoyed Ruth and Calvin’s story! In case you missed it, keep reading for the first chapter of the previous book in this series, Call Him Prince Daddy

  Happy reading!

  Layla x

  Call Him Prince Daddy

  Chapter 1

  Jacques

  “What do you mean, it’s delayed?” I growled, my heart sinking down into my stomach—and then shooting up into my throat at the range of possibilities that such a delay could bring up. “Do you realize how serious that is? Do you realize how bad it could be for my family?”

  And not just bad, but potentially deadly. Because I was expecting a shipment of diamonds from my native country. A huge shipment in fact, and one that I was very definitely counting on.

  And I had been expecting those diamonds yesterday.

  The fact that they weren’t here yet, was a very, very big deal.

  “There was some problem with a storm, sir,” the man on the other end—one of my many assistants—mumbled. “They couldn’t get through and they had to turn back. Barely got out of the harbor, actually. Making the journey might have meant that the ship itself went down. We could have lost the entire shipment.”

  I growled again, though this time I put a little less anger into it. Because my assistant had a good point; if the shipment had gone down, it would have been worse than delayed. I needed those diamonds here in the States, and I needed them as soon as possible.

  Them sitting at the bottom of the fucking ocean wasn’t going to help me.

  So yeah, the captain, who had docked in a small bay in the Caribbean after their journey across the Atlantic—and in preparation for the final leg to Miami—might have made the right choice. The journey up to Miami might have been too dangerous to actually follow through on.

  But it still put me in an awfully bad position. And it didn’t explain why I was just now hearing about it when all of this must have happened at least two days ago.

  I decided not to bother with that second question, since there was a range of possible answers—including the best one, which was that when you’re smuggling diamonds into the United States, you can’t always count on being in perfect contact with the people doing the smuggling—and went right for the important point.

  “When do they expect to be here?” I asked, my mind running through the things that I would need to take care of. The people I would need to communicate with—and the people that I would need to put off a bit longer. The excuses I could use. The promises I might make.

  The protections I could put in place.

  “Within the week,” my assistant said.

  I sighed, frustrated. One of the biggest hassles of running your own business—or your own smuggling operation, as the case may be—was that you were the only one who seemed to understand how important details were. Details like a specific day that I could count on. A specific day that I could tell my contacts about.

  “Do you have anything more specific?” I asked tightly.

  There was a long, pregnant pause on the other end of the line, and I held my breath.

  Because the sooner those diamonds got here, the sooner I could get the mob off my back. Yes, the real live mob. I know. But it was the hand I’d been dealt, for the moment, and it was the situation I was having to handle. No matter how much I hated it.

  “I think we can count on Wednesday,” my assistant finally said.

  I breathed out a sigh of relief at that. Wednesday, I could deal with. It was only Friday now, and I could make an excuse about the weekend and then hold them off until Wednesday.

  If it was Wednesday, all wasn’t lost.

  “Make sure it happens, then,” I snapped. “My life may literally be depending on it. The lives of my mother and father. My daughter. I don’t have to tell you how important this is, Ramiro.”

  I ended the call before he could answer and leaned my face into my hands, trying to get my brain to work out solutions to the current problem.

  The current problem. Not the bigger picture—namely that my family had once been the royal family in charge of Borovik, an island off the coast of Croatia, until we’d been deposed by a military coup. A family that was used to living in the lap of luxury an
d had suddenly found themselves… well, outlaws, for lack of a better term. Which had brought up another problem: that we’d had to run from the island—from our home—and make our way quickly (and hidden in the bottom of a cargo ship) to the United States, where we’d filed immediately for asylum.

  I’d had to take out loan after loan after loan from American loan sharks to get the whole thing done. To get my family here and safe. To make sure we had a life that didn’t depend on the bank accounts in Borovik, which had been seized by the people who were now running the government.

  Which, in case you were wondering, is how I got involved with the mob. Because of course they were the ones who had offered the loans. And I’d taken them out of pure, horrible desperation.

  I wouldn’t have done otherwise. Even now, with all the fear constantly coursing through my veins, I knew I’d done the only thing I could possibly do. I couldn’t have left my family in Borovik, where they would have been on the run for the rest of their lives. And I couldn’t have moved them to the US without money.

  No, I didn’t question my decisions. But regretting that I’d had to make them? Yeah, I had done that just about every day, ever since. I’d spent the last three years trying desperately to pay those loans off—before the sharks came to collect. Before they took what little we’d been able to build here.

  Before they hurt my family.

  Hence the shipment of diamonds. Borovik was one of the biggest diamond suppliers in the world. Hell, they were about as common to find in the ground as normal rocks, there—which was why the local market wouldn’t give you anything for them. They were too numerous, too easy to come by. Simple economics said that they weren’t worth anything on the island itself.

  Get them off the island, though, and they were nearly priceless.

  Get them off the island and into the American market, and they brought a very tidy sum. A sum that would, if I sold enough, get me out from under the mob, and into a position of safety.