Barbara Dunlop - In Bed With The Wrangler

But even as she rolled the explanation around, she knew it wasn’t right. She didn’t begrudge Melissa her happiness.

Truth was, she was hiding out from herself, from the notion that she was living a lie, from the realization that she’d wrapped her life around a man she didn’t love.

The truth was both frightening and exhausting, and she needed time to figure it all out. More than an evening. More than a day. Even more than a weekend.

She needed to come to terms with the colossal mess she’d made of her life and decide where to go next. Ironic, really. Where Royce dreaded his ranch in Montana, she’d give anything-

Her eyes popped open, and she blinked him into focus. “Take me with you.”

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“Take me with you to Montana.” Nobody would look for her in Montana. She’d be free of dress fittings and florists and calligraphers. No more gift registries or parties or travel agents.

No more Hargrove.

The thought took a weight off her shoulders, and the knot in her stomach broke free. Not good.

“Are you joking?” asked Royce.

“No.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Maybe.” Was she crazy? This certainly felt insane. Unfortunately, it also felt frighteningly right.

“I’m not taking an engaged woman with me to Montana.”

“Why not?”

He held out his palms, gesturing in the general vicinity of her neckline and the rest of her dress. “Because…Because…Well, because your fiancé would kill me, for one.”

“I won’t tell him.”

“Right. That plan always ends well.”

“I’m serious. He’ll never know.”

“Forget it.”

No. She wouldn’t forget it. This was the first idea in weeks that had felt right to her.

She pulled off her diamond ring, setting it on the table between them. “There. No more fiancé. No more problem.”

“It doesn’t have to be on your finger to count.”

“Yeah?” she challenged.

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“What if I wasn’t engaged?” Her words cut to absolute silence between them. The other sounds in the room muted, and time slowed down.

His gaze took a methodical trip from her cleavage to her waist, then backtracked to her eyes. “Sweetheart, if you weren’t engaged, I’d say fasten your seat belt.”

She snapped open her handbag. “Then how about this?” Retrieving her slim, silver cell phone, she typed a quick message and handed it over to Royce.

He squinted in the dim light, brows going up as he read the typed words.

I’m so sorry. I can’t marry you. I need some time to think.

“Press Send,” she told him. “Press Send, and take me to Montana.”

“There you are, pumpkin.” Amber’s father stepped up behind her, and his broad hand came down on her shoulder.

Shock rushed straight from her brain all the way to her toes. She whipped her head around to look up. “Daddy?”

“The limo’s at the curb.” Her father’s glance went to Royce.

Royce placed the cell phone facedown on the table and stood up to hold out his hand. “Royce Ryder. Jared’s brother.”

Her father shook. “David Hutton. We met briefly in the receiving line.”

“Good to see you again, sir.”

“You’ve been entertaining my daughter?”

“The other way around,” said Royce, his gaze going to Amber. “She’s an interesting woman. You must be proud.”

Her father gave her shoulder a squeeze. “We certainly are. But it’s getting late, honey. We need to get home.”

No, Amber wanted to yell. She didn’t want to go home. She wanted to stay here with Royce and completely change her life. She wanted to break it off with Hargrove and escape to Montana. She truly did.

Royce picked up the phone and slipped it back into her purse, clicking the purse shut with finality then handing it to her. “It was fun meeting you.”

Amber opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Her father scooped a hand under her elbow and gently urged her to her feet.

She stared at Royce, trying to convey her desperation, hoping he’d understand the look in her eyes and do something to help her. But he didn’t. And her father took a step, and she took a step. And another, and another.

“Amber?” Royce called, and relief shot though her. He knew. He understood. He was coming to her rescue.

But when she turned, he was holding out her engagement ring.

“Amber,” her father admonished, shock clear in his tone.

“My hands were swelling,” she answered lamely.

Royce didn’t bother making eye contact as he dropped the diamond into the palm of her hand.

“Who was that?” Stephanie’s voice startled Royce as he watched Amber exit the lounge on her father’s arm.

Tearing his eyes from the supple figure beneath the gold-and-red dress, he turned to face his sister. Stephanie looked young and unusually feminine in her ice-pink, strapless, satin bridesmaid dress. It had a full, flowing, knee-length skirt and a wide, white sash that matched her dangling, satin-bead earrings.

“Are all women crazy?” he asked, trying to recall the last time he’d seen Stephanie in anything other than riding clothes.

“Yes, we are,” she answered without hesitation, linking her arm with his. “So you probably don’t want to upset us. Like, for example, turning down our perfectly reasonable requests.”

Royce sighed, steering her back to the table as he pushed the bizarre conversation with Amber out of his mind. “What do you want, Steph?”

“A million dollars.”

“No.”

“Hey,” she said, sliding into Amber’s vacated seat as the cocktail waitress removed the empty martini glass. She kicked off one sandal and tucked her ankle under the opposite thigh on the roomy chair. “I’m a woman on the edge here.”

“On the edge of what?” He pushed his half-full drink away. Had Amber’s text message been an elaborate joke? If so, how warped was her sense of humor?

“Sanity,” said Stephanie. “There’s this stallion in London.”

“Talk to Jared.” Royce wasn’t getting caught up in his sister’s insatiable demands for her jumping stable.

“It’s Jared’s wedding night. He already went upstairs. You’re in charge now.”

Royce glanced at his watch. “And you think I’m a soft touch?”

“You always have been in the past.”

“Forget it.”

“His name’s Blanchard’s Run.”

“I said forget it.” He had time for maybe four hours of sleep before he had to get to the airport and preflight the jet.

“But-” Stephanie suddenly stopped, blinking in surprise as she glanced above his head.

“I sent it,” came a breathless voice that Royce already easily recognized.

He jerked his head around to confirm it was Amber.

“Sent what?” asked Stephanie.

Amber’s jewel-blue eyes were shining with a mixture of trepidation and excitement.

She hadn’t.

She wouldn’t.

“Where’s your father?” asked Royce. Was this another warped joke?

“He left. I told him to send the limo back for me later.”

Royce shook his head, refusing to believe any woman would do something that impulsive. “You did not send it.”

But Amber nodded, then she glanced furtively around the lounge. “I figure I have about ten minutes to get out of here.”

“What did you send?” Stephanie demanded. “To who?”

Amber slipped into the vacant third seat between them and leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I broke off my engagement.”

Stephanie looked both shocked and excited. She reached for Amber’s hand and squeezed it. “With who?”

“Hargrove Alston.”

“The guy who’s going to run for the Senate?”

Royce stared at his sister in astonishment.

“I read it in People,” she told him with a dismissive wave of her hand. Then she turned her attention back to Amber. “Is he mad? Is he after you now?”

“He’s in Switzerland.”

“Then you’re safe.”

“Not for long. As soon as Hargrove reads my text, he’ll call my dad, and my dad will turn the limo around.”

Stephanie’s lips pursed into an O of concern, and her breath whooshed out.

Amber nodded her agreement, and both women turned expectantly to Royce.

“What?”

“We have to go,” said Stephanie, her expression hinting that he was a little slow on the uptake.

“To Montana,” Amber elaborated.

“Now,” said Stephanie with a nod of urgency.

“They’ll never think to look for me in Montana,” Amber elaborated.

“I’m not taking you to-”

But Stephanie jumped up from her chair. “To the airport,” she declared in a ridiculously dramatic tone.

“Right.” Amber nodded, rising, as well, smoothing her sexy dress over her hips as she stood on her high heels.

“Stop,” Royce demanded, and even the laughing women at the table next to them stopped talking and glanced over.

“Shh,” Stephanie hissed.

Royce lowered his voice. “We are not rushing off to the airport like a bunch of criminals.”

Stephanie planted both hands on the tabletop. “And why not?”

“Six minutes,” Amber helpfully informed them.

He shot her a look of frustration. “Don’t be such a wimp. If he yells at you, he yells at you.”

Amber’s brows rose. “I’m not afraid he’ll yell at me.”

“Then, what’s the problem?”

“I’m afraid he’ll talk me out of it.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re a grown woman. It’s your life.”

“It is,” Amber agreed. “And I want to come to Montana.”

The look she gave him was frank and very adult. Perhaps his first instinct had been right. Maybe there was something between them. Maybe he was the reason she’d made the decision to finally dump the loser fiancé and move on.

He felt a rush of pride, a hit of testosterone and, quite frankly, the throb of arousal. Having Amber around would definitely make Montana more palatable. Only a fool would put barriers in her way.