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The Rancher And The City Girl
Kathy Douglass
From sworn enemies to soul mates? Wall Street hotshot Camille Parker is the last person rancher Jericho Jones expects to find on his doorstep. Ever since his late wife's best friend interfered in his marriage, she's persona non-grata in Jericho's book. But the situation is literally life-and-death for Camille and he opens his home to her.Camille has no choice but to seek help from her worst enemy. And as she lets her guard down in close quarters, unexpected feelings surge for him. But what will happen if Camille's life goes back to normal and the city girl no longer needs to shelter in the rugged rancher's arms?
From sworn enemies to soul mates?
Wall Street hotshot Camille Parker is the last person rancher Jericho Jones expects to find on his doorstep. Ever since his late wife’s best friend interfered in his marriage, she’s persona non grata in Jericho’s book. But the situation is literally life-and-death for this damsel in distress, and he opens his home to her. The problem is, he opens his heart, too.
Camille has no choice but to seek help from her worst enemy. And as she lets her guard down in close quarters, unexpected feelings surge for him. But what will happen if Camille’s life goes back to normal and the city girl no longer needs to shelter in the reticent rancher’s arms?
He wanted Camille to have that dress.
The thought surprised him. Why did he care?
But he’d seen the pleasure in her eyes as she’d looked at her reflection. The yearning. Her life was a wreck right now. She deserved something that would make her smile.
“I’ll take it. Don’t tell Camille. I want it to be a surprise,” he told the saleswoman, credit card in hand. After she rang it up and placed it in a bag, he went out and hid it behind the seat in his truck, smiling when he thought of how happy Camille would be with his gift.
When Jericho returned to the shop, he saw Camille and his jaw dropped. She looked like every man’s dream in a fitted blue-green top and a pair of matching shorts that hit her midthigh, showcasing her toned legs. She’d exchanged her pumps for green flat sandals. Even without a speck of makeup, she was drop-dead gorgeous. And she was more relaxed than she’d been since she arrived.
His heart, which he’d believed had died a year ago, jumped as if being recharged like a dead battery.
“I’m ready.”
* * *
Sweet Briar Sweethearts: There’s something about Sweet Briar...
The Rancher and the City Girl
Kathy Douglass
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
KATHY DOUGLASS came by her love of reading naturally—both of her parents were readers. She would finish one book and pick up another. Then she attended law school and traded romances for legal opinions.
After the birth of her two children, her love of reading turned into a love of writing. Kathy now spends her days writing the small-town contemporary novels she enjoys reading.
This book is dedicated with love to my husband
and sons. Thanks for filling my life with love and joy.
Contents
Cover (#u1c67c64a-1491-5f99-a69a-a78cf6c29c0e)
Back Cover Text (#u7e2dcbf9-8896-5d4a-aaa5-8f7b8b6132a2)
Introduction (#ub0a279c2-950b-5535-b7d3-4c97cfc35a32)
Title Page (#u75c29bcc-bb60-5d82-95cb-8f36661db2ff)
About the Author (#u9cbcc5dc-5c42-5ffa-a8b3-812b7d6992c3)
Dedication (#u2aad9614-9d8e-5026-bf13-e77338395fa6)
Chapter One (#u899f71db-04a6-5020-861d-1867f9bf9b61)
Chapter Two (#u10528c9f-016f-58e6-be5e-b36e90f528b7)
Chapter Three (#ufb9f7e78-3841-5d55-ab00-11f93cbf5d74)
Chapter Four (#u6b0d489c-accb-5e9b-ace1-5745399c144b)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ubf0dd9b0-ddec-5b4d-831d-6f448f858de7)
Go somewhere no one will look for you. The words of warning echoed through Camille Parker’s head as she sped down the rapidly darkening country road. It curved suddenly, and she almost lost control of the car. Cursing under her breath, she eased up on the accelerator and jerked the wheel, steering back onto the asphalt. They wouldn’t have to kill her if she did it herself.
Slowing, she began looking for a mailbox. She had to be close by now. Finally she spotted a driveway flanked by two large trees. She stopped next to the mailbox, hoping to find a name and not just the street number. Luckily, she made out “Jericho and Jeanette Jones” in red letters on the metal box. Despite her anxiety, her heart squeezed at the sight of her former friend’s name. How she had missed Jeanette. She always would.
Camille knew no one had followed her from New York, yet she still checked her rearview mirror. Convinced that she was alone on the isolated lane, she turned into the long, winding crushed-rock driveway, driving as fast as she dared. She didn’t want to lose control of the car again when she was this close to safety.
And what if Jericho didn’t let her in? He hated her. And she hated him. She’d never used the term “sworn enemies” before, but it described their relationship more accurately than other words could.
Not only had he convinced Jeanette to break off her engagement to Camille’s brother and marry him instead, he’d brought Jeanette out here to the middle of nowhere and let her die. Camille’s eyes filled with tears as she recalled finding out about Jeanette’s death in the obituary section of their high school’s alumni newsletter. Just one more reason to hate Jericho.
The two-story house appeared around a bend, and she slowed the car, stopping as close to the building as possible. She opened the door and heaved a heavy sigh. Her heart beat hard against the walls of her chest as doubt once more assaulted her.
What if he didn’t take her in?
She shoved aside that worry and tried again to silence the fear that had gripped her since she’d overheard her boss, Donald Wilcox, instructing someone to get rid of her and make it look like an accident. When she’d reached out in a panic to Rafael Delgado, her contact with the FBI, she discovered he was comatose after being in a car accident. That was when she’d run. At this point, she didn’t know whom she could trust. That’s why she needed to disappear for a while.
She couldn’t go to her parents or her brother in Chicago. No doubt that would be the first place the killers would look. And they could easily discover the identities of the friends she’d made in New York, many of whom worked at the Wall Street firm with her, and those she’d left behind in Chicago. So their homes were off-limits, as well. She wouldn’t put her family or friends at risk by seeking refuge with them. She had to go somewhere no one knew about or would ever think to look for her.
The Double J Ranch was just such a place. She and Jericho hadn’t spoken civil words to each other in more than five years. More important, she hadn’t spoken about him to anyone at the financial firm where she worked. No one in the New York banking circles would ever connect her to a horse rancher in North Carolina. The nearest town, Sweet Briar, was located almost an hour away on the ocean, so the ranch had the added bonus of being isolated. She’d be safe here. If he’d let her stay.
Her stomach seized as she considered the possibility that he might slam the door in her face. She couldn’t let that happen. He was her last—no, her only—hope.
She couldn’t risk using her credit cards or accessing her bank accounts once she’d left New York because even she knew she could be found that way. She’d been so rattled she hadn’t given a thought to stopping at an ATM until she was well on her way to North Carolina. Then it was too late. After paying cash for her hotel room last night, she had only the $300 she always kept in her purse. Who would have thought she’d need to use her emergency funds in an actual emergency and not one that involved shopping? And who knew how long she would need to make this money last?
Grabbing her purse, she jumped from the car, then raced up the short flight of stairs. She rang the doorbell several times, and a dog began barking. She heard scratching against the door as the barking grew louder and then stopped. She waited but heard no other sound. The urge to pound on the door nearly overcame her, but she pressed the doorbell for several long seconds instead. The barking started up again, but that’s all she heard.
She didn’t know anything about ranching. Would Jericho be in the house now, or out in the barn? Was the barn near the house? And what if he wasn’t here at all?
She hadn’t called to let him know she was coming. She couldn’t. She didn’t know his phone number. Not only that, she’d smashed and then discarded her cell phone, scattering the pieces along several New York streets so she couldn’t be traced. That might have been overkill, but she’d rather be safe than sorry. She’d never had people trying to kill her before, so the only thing she knew to do was what she’d seen in movies.
She raised a fist to pound on the door, but it was suddenly wrenched open. She lost her balance and fell against the man inside. He steadied her but not before she got a whiff of his masculine scent. Despite the terror that had been nipping at her heels for a day and a half, some tiny part of her was aware of just how good he smelled. The scent of pine and leather mixed in with a hint of soap clung to his skin. More than that, he smelled of safety and security. Like home.
He set her away from him none too gently, and she banished the ridiculous thought from her mind before it could take root. Telling herself to buck up, she raised her head and looked into deep brown eyes. Shock flashed in them briefly before being replaced by anger and hatred, finally landing on ice.
“What are you doing here?”
Jericho’s deep voice was even colder than his eyes. No surprise there.
“I said, why are you here?” His hard voice cut through her musings, bringing her fear to the fore.
“I need somewhere to stay.”
He leaned in closer, and she realized that although her lips had moved, her voice had been a mere squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I need somewhere to stay.”
His eyes narrowed and he backed away. She wasn’t sure whether he was inviting her in or planning to close the door in her face. Moving quickly, she stepped inside. A black Lab sat on its haunches several feet away, its tail thumping against the floor.
“Why?” He shook his head. “Never mind why. I don’t care. I’m just surprised you believe you’re going to stay here with me. As I recall you think this ranch is a worn-down piece of dirt in the middle of nowhere. And I’m just a farmer looking to hook up with a rich woman to support me. Those are your words, aren’t they?”
Camille cringed but didn’t look away from the fury in his eyes. She’d said those very words five years ago when Jeanette had confided she was ending her engagement to Camille’s brother and running off to Las Vegas with Jericho. Amazingly, he had quoted her verbatim.
He stepped around her and grabbed the doorknob. Unless she spoke fast and explained her predicament, she’d be on the other side of that door with nowhere to go before another minute passed. Three hundred dollars wouldn’t last long.
She put a hand on his arm. He had to listen to her. A hot jolt of electricity shot through her, and she yanked her hand away before her fingers were singed. What in the world was that? “Please. You have to let me stay here.” She heard the rising hysteria in her voice and clamped down on it. She’d never convince him if she lost her head.
“I don’t have to do anything.”
His hand twisted the knob.
“Please, Jericho. Don’t send me away. You’re the only person I can turn to. People are trying to kill me. If they find me, I’m dead.”
* * *
Someone was trying to kill her? Right. Surely she could do better than that. After all, this was the same woman who’d bribed her way into his Chicago hotel room barely an hour before he was set to fly to Las Vegas and marry Jeanette. He’d never forget how he’d emerged from the shower to find Camille sprawled across his bed wearing a sexy little nothing. He didn’t know what game she’d been playing, but he hadn’t been interested. He’d never told Jeanette what Camille had done. He couldn’t hurt Jeanette that way. She’d gone to her grave naively believing Camille Parker was worthy of her friendship. He knew better.
“Nice try, Camille. But I’m not buying it. Go play your games with someone else.”
“It’s not a game,” she screeched, wild-eyed. “If you make me leave, they’ll kill me.”
Jericho released the knob and took a closer look at the woman in front of him. The haughty expression she’d worn like other women wore a favorite lipstick was missing. Now, rather than curling her lips in disdain, she mercilessly nibbled away at them.
Not caring that it was rude, he let his eyes travel over her body. Tall and thin, she was cover-girl beautiful. The few times he’d seen her, she’d been perfectly coifed and her clothes impeccable. Now her shoulder-length hair looked a mess. The curls were tangled as if she had run her fingers through them over and over. The scarf that had held her locks away from her face was edging toward the back of her head. Her clothes were wrinkled, as if she’d slept in them. There was a frantic expression on her face, and she looked about ready to jump out of her skin.
Could someone really be trying to kill her? And if that was true, what did it have to do with him? “What’s going on?”
Camille jumped, and he realized he’d yelled his question. Her chest rose and fell as she inhaled deeply. She lifted a shaky hand and ran it through her hair, then adjusted her scarf. The smile she gave him was so forced he wondered why she bothered. “It’s a long story.”
“Just cut to the chase. I don’t have time to waste with meaningless details. And if the situation is as dire as you claim, you don’t either.”
“Right.” She compressed her lips, then looked him dead in the eyes. “I told you. Someone is trying to kill me.”
“But why come here? As I recall they have police in Chicago.”
“New York City. I moved to New York eight months ago to start a new job.”
“Okay. Not that it makes a difference. They have police there, too.”
“I can’t go to them. I don’t know who I can trust. I know there’s at least one person in the government involved. Maybe the police are, too. I just can’t risk it.”
Even without the details, this story was too convoluted to hear all the way through while standing in the hallway, not to mention that she was too edgy for his liking and he needed some space from her. So he gestured for her to proceed into his living room.
Her eyes widened in surprise before she let out a breath of what was clearly relief and stumbled ahead of him. She looked around uncertainly before he nodded and pointed toward the chairs before the unlit fireplace. He and Jeanette had spent many winter evenings sitting before a roaring fire. He hadn’t lit it once since her death. He’d avoided this room, coming in only to clean on rare occasions because the memories were unbearable. Still he’d rather live with the discomfort than let Camille intrude farther into his home.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked automatically, then wanted to bite his tongue. This wasn’t a social call. And he definitely didn’t want to prolong her stay.
“No thanks,” she said and sank into a chair. The dog immediately put his head on her lap.
“Shadow, heel.”
Shadow whined, then raced from the room. A minute later he returned carrying a chew toy that he dropped at Jericho’s feet. Jericho ignored the rubber bone and walked past what Jeanette had referred to as his chair, choosing instead to lean against the fireplace mantel.
“I work for a financial institution. An investment banking firm. I’m very good at what I do.”