Charlene Sands - Exquisite Acquisitions

He shook his cousin’s hand. “Stop by the house soon. I brought home a houseguest. I’d like you to meet her.”

Brady’s brows flew to his hairline. “Her? You brought a woman home from New York? Man, you don’t waste any time.”

Laughter rose up from his throat. “It’s not like that. Macy is-”

“Macy? Is she old? Fat? Ugly?”

Carter didn’t have to think twice. “Pretty, bordering on beautiful. Around twenty-six years old and shaped like a goddess-well, a slender goddess.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Brady’s expression changed to disbelief. “This is a joke.”

“It’s no joke, but it’s not what it seems.”

Carter took the next few minutes explaining to his cousin about how he met Macy right after being dumped and the odd sort of kinship he felt toward her after seeing her being attacked by the paparazzi. She needed someone’s protection, and he’d been there. She’d been a vital distraction to his heartache, too, and he wasn’t sorry he’d asked her to stay at Wild River.

Brady scratched his head. “Okay, I’ll stop by sometime.”

“Good. Your steak’s getting cold. Eat. I’m outta here.”

Carter was almost out of Brady’s backyard when his cousin’s wry voice stopped him cold. “Wonder what Jocelyn would say if she found out you have a gorgeous female houseguest?”

Carter pivoted on his heels to face Brady. “Now, how would she find out something like that?”

“Maybe I’ll just mention it to Regina tomorrow when I’m fixing her shelves.”

He shrugged. Jocelyn wasn’t his concern anymore. But payback was a bitch. “Whatever floats your boat, cuz. Just don’t mention Macy’s name.”

Brady nodded with a wicked smile.

And then Carter was off.

Soft, inky locks of hair curled at the base of Macy’s neck in damp wisps. Her attempt at piling those strands on top of her head wasn’t working too well, and the whole picture she made sitting on the lounge chair at the pool captured Carter’s attention from the kitchen doorway. Her soft shoulders were exposed and glowing golden, as was every inch of her skin but for the strip of snow-white material covering her curves in a two-piece swimsuit. His mouth had nearly dropped to the ground when she’d found that bikini at the River Rags clothing store in town a few days back.

Carter had tried to talk her out of buying the damn bikini. The point of shopping for clothes was to make her look less conspicuous, not draw any unwanted attention. But her argument had made sense. “No one will see me in it. And I love getting a good tan.”

Apparently, she hadn’t thought he’d counted.

Because he saw her wearing it, and the image wasn’t one he’d likely forget.

She looked rested, which was the plan, and she had stayed out of his hair, just as she’d promised. Trouble was, Carter had seen glimpses of her quiet pool time for three days straight and had wanted to join her.

She came from a different world, he told himself. And he’d already been burned.

Good sense had him turning away from the kitchen sliding glass door, but her inquisitive voice carried to his ears. “Is that you, Carter?”

“Uh-huh. It’s me. But don’t let me disturb you.”

“I can use some disturbing.” Her voice held a gentle ring of frustration. She closed the book and turned her pretty violet eyes on him.

He strolled outside and sat down in a wrought-iron chair in the shade three feet away from her.

“Chicken,” she said with laughter in her voice.

He unfastened the top two buttons on his shirt. “Must be ninety degrees out here. I do enough baking out on the range.”

She tilted her head to the side and then shot a glance over the deep blue waters of his massive pool and the beautiful garden surrounding it. “You could actually use your own pool, you know.”

“And ruin my cowboy image?”

A bubble of laughter escaped her throat. He laughed, too, but his focus drifted from her pretty face to honeyed California skin bathed in sunlight. Her legs were long and sleek and perfectly shaped. Her stomach flat and her breasts… Carter lifted his gaze to meet her eyes.

She flushed pink. Damn, did she expect him not to notice her killer body? His voice grew husky. “Just what kind of disturbing did you want me to do?”

“I, uh…” She gazed past the pool area and garden to the vast open spaces beyond. “I’m bored. I know it’s not your problem, and I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but besides Henry and Mara and you, I’ve had no human contact for three full days. Well, there was the shopping trip to town, but that was a quick outing and I didn’t exactly make any friends along the way, with my disguise and all. Speaking of that, I don’t think anyone around here would know me-”

“Do you know how to ride?”

Her brows gathered together. “Horses?”

He nodded slowly.

“Of course. I practically grew up riding. My father did a motion picture in Spain and we stayed at this magnificent hacienda. I was six then and I’ve been riding ever since.”

“We’ll go after dinner. At sunset.”

“Really?”

Carter scratched his head. He hadn’t been a good host. The hope in Macy’s voice was proof positive. “Just be sure to wear those cowboy duds you bought. And a hat.”

“It’ll be dark. I don’t think I’ll need a disguise.”

“It’s not for purposes of disguise.” His gaze flashed over her body in an unconcealed sweep that brought his message home.

She blinked and whispered, “Oh?”

She had to know how tempting she looked to him right now. If she hadn’t caught him watching her at the door, he would’ve marched back into his office and tried to forget the sexual awareness that had been niggling at him all week. He was still shell-shocked from Jocelyn’s deception. And Macy was a distraction to his bruised ego, but lusting after her wasn’t in the cards.

But neither of them needed any complications in their lives right now.

“Excuse me, Carter, Miss Tarlington.” Mara stood at the back doorway.

Carter was grateful for the interruption. Things were getting a little hot out here. “Hey, Mara. What can I do for you?”

“Henry’s finished with his interview. He’s impressed and would like you to meet with Mr. Fargo, if you’ve got the time today.”

“Sure, have Henry bring him into the office.”

“I plan to go home with Henry afterward, if that’s all right. Supper’s ready and keeping warm.”

“That’s fine. Thanks, Mara.”

“Okay then. I’ll be saying goodbye to both of you.”

Macy sat farther up in her chair, poking her head around him. “Bye, Mara, and remember to call me Macy.”

Mara nodded and then was gone.

Carter rose from the patio chair and glanced at Macy tying up the straps of her bathing suit top. As she tightened the drawstring, her breasts pushed together. He drew a breath quietly and excused himself.

“See you at supper, Carter,” she said.

“Right,” he muttered. He wasn’t sure which was worse, inviting Macy Tarlington to Wild River Ranch or enjoying her being here even more.

* * *

Carter sat behind his large walnut desk in an office situated on the opposite end of the living area of the house. As often as he could, he conducted business from here, rather than driving into Dallas, where he held six thousand square feet of office space for McCay’s Cattle Company. His work included more than cattle buying and selling lately. He’d diversified and had his hands in other ventures as well, but his bread and butter would always be ranching. It was his first love.

Carter met his prospective employee with a cordial smile. He believed that nothing told more about a man than the sincerity in his eyes. “I see from your résumé, Mr. Fargo, you’ve got an extensive amount of experience.”

“I’ve been around the block a few times,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Carter nodded, continuing to sift through his papers. “You’ve done construction, government work and teaching, among other things. What did you teach?”

Bill Fargo leaned over and looked at his paperwork upside down on Carter’s desk. He pointed to the middle of a page. “Says right on there, American history. I coached football for a few years, too.”

Carter leaned back in his seat, perusing the gray-haired man. He was well-groomed, nice looking and in his sixties. Carter liked his confidence. “I played in high school. Running back.”

Bill Fargo gave him a quick once-over. “You hold some long-term records.”

“I do.” Texas and football was like chips and dip. One’s just not good without the other. “It was a while back.”

“Nineteen hundred yards in a single season. You ran for thirteen touchdowns.”

Carter chuckled. “You did your homework.”

“I would take credit for that, but the truth is, I noseyed around town and asked about you. Seems Wild River residents don’t forget football records.”

Carter knew that for fact. “I’m curious. What else did you learn about me?”

“Ex-military. Father’s a drunk. You’re fair in your dealings and run a tight ship.”

The side of his jaw itched. Carter pressed his fingers there, scratching it and staring at the older man. He’d never had his life summed up so succinctly before. The man could have added “recently jilted by your girlfriend” to the list. “The job is for a groundskeeper. To keep watch over the land and an old structure I’m thinking about renovating. You don’t have experience in that.”

Bill Fargo crossed his arms over his slender frame and sat back in his seat. “I kept twenty boys and girls interested in history every semester. Kept a forty-man football team of teenagers from fighting, drinking and bad-mouthing authority. If I’m given a job, I do it. I’ve got some experience with firearms, too.”

Carter’s brows lifted. “I don’t doubt that.” He studied his résumé under Hobbies. “You’re a hunter.”