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She should have suspected the truck could belong to Jesse Stevens. She was near his ranch, after all. But still, weren’t the odds higher it would be one of his employees rather than him at this hour, in the rain?
Yet there was no doubting who this man was, even in the dark with just his headlights slicing through the night. She’d done her research on the man and his spread well before this excursion to meet him, persuade him.
But she wasn’t ready to let him know who she was. Not just yet. She swallowed hard. “My car won’t start, and the cell reception is garbage out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Speaking as the landlord of the Middle of Nowhere, I’ve never had any trouble with mine.” Rain dripped from the brim of his hat as he towered over her. “You should check with your provider.”
Was that irony or irritation coating his words?
Not good if she’d already made him angry. This would be over before it started.
She longed for higher heels to make her taller, closer to his eye level. “I’ll be sure to look into my provider as soon as I find dry clothes. If you could just help me call for a tow, I’ll get my suitcase so I can change. I’m freezing to death.”
It was cold for Texas, even in December.
“Your car’s not going anywhere tonight, ma’am. And there’s no way either of us should risk walking back over to your vehicle to retrieve your luggage. The ground could give way at any time.”
Her foot slipped. She looked quickly at him. “It’s just my broken shoe.”
Then her other foot shot out from under her. She lurched to the side, her umbrella whipping away in the wind. Her arms pinwheeled as she lost her balance, tumbling toward the rushing swell of water alongside the dirt road.
Strong hands clasped her waist and stopped her fall. Before she could catch her breath, he’d hauled her against his chest. His warm breath fanned her cheek.
“Are you all right?”
Other than goose bumps that had nothing to do with the cold because she was in the arms of a Viking cowboy? “I’m fine.” Her words came out husky. “Thank you.”
“What are you doing out here this time of night in such crummy weather?” Thunder rolled in the distance.
She braced her palms on his impossibly broad shoulders and looked straight into Jesse Stevens’s emerald green eyes. “I’m looking for you.”
Jesse Stevens held the drenched woman against him, her willowy body enticing even through her soaked raincoat and his hastily-tossed-on jacket. He’d been making a last check of the horses, concerned about the thunder spooking them, when he’d seen the car lights. He’d been surprised, not expecting anyone until tomorrow. Not that he was complaining.
The matchmaker he’d hired had outdone herself in sending this candidate.
He wondered which of the three contenders this was—the single mom, the veterinarian or the Miss Texas pageant runner-up. This woman certainly could be the latter, and that might explain the high heels and flashy car choice. The height seemed to be right, based on the stats in her profile. Although it was difficult to tell much in the dark. He was definitely curious to learn more about the husky-voiced siren. All the more reason to resist the temptation to hold on for an extra second or two.
Stepping back, he still cupped her elbow. Just to make sure she didn’t lose her balance, of course. “Are you okay? You weren’t hurt when your car spun out, were you?”
She nodded, pulling one foot, then the other, out of the mud. “I’m fine, thank you. I truly didn’t expect the weather to get this bad.”
Given her slick trench and Porsche, she had more of a city-girl vibe that he had doubts would hold up out here. But the matchmaker would have told her about him and his rural lifestyle. He’d sure filled out a checklist of his criteria for the kind of woman he was looking for.
“Ma’am, the road is at risk of giving way further. You need to get to safety. My truck can take an alternate path that’s not accessible to the public.”
“Let’s go, then.” She started forward, her purse tucked tight to her side, but her foot sank deeper into the mud, stopping her progress. Sighing, she cursed under her breath. Like a sailor, no less.
An unexpected surprise. She had grit to go along with all of that glam. He could still feel the imprint of her against him.
She glanced up at him, her eyelashes spiky wet, her ponytail slick and sleek down the front of her coat. “The heels aren’t holding up well out here.”
“Then I’ll carry you.” He wasn’t sure where the invitation came from, but now that he’d said it, the idea had taken root. An appealing option, and with each passing second, an increasingly necessary one.
“Whoa, wait.” She held up a manicured hand, with two chipped nails and another broken. “That’s a bit extreme.”
“Ma’am…” He smiled. “The longer we talk, the worse the roads will be. And I don’t know about you, but I’m cold even though I have on boots.”
Indecision flickered across her face. But then she shivered and her hand lowered. She nodded quickly, her teeth chattering.
All the invitation he needed.
He scooped her up into his arms, tucking her against him as he made tracks toward his truck. With a squeak of surprise, she looped her arms around his neck, a light scent of something floral and exotic riding the humid air to tempt his nose. Her body fit against him, the curve of her breast pressed to him.
So much for feeling cold. Heat fired through his veins. But he needed to learn more about her. His days of sowing wild oats were in the past. He was ready to settle down, build a family, and he wasn’t waiting around for chance to bring him the woman he needed.
He’d contacted a selective, high-priced matchmaker to assist him in the search. His days were packed with running his ranch. His only social life involved the occasional event at the Texas Cattleman’s Club and he already knew every one of the members. He wanted a wife, children—heirs. He didn’t believe in grand romance or love. But he was a firm advocate of the benefits of a winning partnership.
Yes, he more than wanted a wife. He needed a wife and he was prepared to offer that spouse his full partnership in return. A win-win for them both.
Once he found the right candidate.
Stopping by the passenger side of his dual-cab truck, he set the woman on her feet carefully, ensuring the ground beneath her was safe before he let go. The rain was coming down in buckets.
He opened the door for her, offering a hand as she stepped on the running board. Damn, those dainty shoes of hers were mighty mangled. She hadn’t been prepared. The clasp of her cold fingers in his hand reminded him of how badly this stormy evening could have turned out for her.
And it still could if he didn’t get his butt in gear and drive back to the house. He braced a hand on the hood as he jogged around to the driver’s side. Once behind the wheel, he slammed his door closed against the wall of rain being blown inside.
At least the heater was still blasting, since he’d never turned the vehicle off. He swept aside his Stetson, flinging it to the back seat beside a horse blanket and a thermos.
“I’m so glad you came along,” she said, her teeth still chattering. She kicked off her broken shoes and wriggled her toes under the blast of warm air circling at the floorboard.
“And I’m glad I saw you out there.” He started to ask her name, but the rain picked up pace on the roof. It could wait. “I hate to think what could have happened to you if those waters swept your car away.”
As she’d said right away, she knew who he was. So he didn’t have to worry about reassuring her she was safe to come with him.
“You were right to question the wisdom of my driving into this storm,” she conceded. “I was so eager to get here, I just kept thinking I could outpace the weather.”
She shook her head, laughing softly. The husky melody of her chuckle filled the truck cab, stroking his senses. That matchmaker sure had a knack.
He cleared his throat. “And the weather still might win if we don’t get moving.”
Jesse eased the four-wheel-drive vehicle out of Park and accelerated carefully. The tires spun, then caught, the truck surging forward, toward the dim twinkling of Christmas lights strung along the split-rail fence. The storm smudged the glow until it was just a smear of green, red and white.
“I’m sorry to inconvenience you so late,” she said. “I certainly intended to arrive earlier.” The truck jostled along a rut in the road and she braced a hand against the door.
“You’d have had better luck with a utility vehicle instead of that sports car of yours.”
“It would appear so.” She squeezed excess water from her ponytail, her wet hair clearly blond now in the glow of the dash.
But he wasn’t any closer to identifying which of the matchmaker’s candidates she might be.
“I’m Jesse Stevens, as you already seem to know. And you are?”
“Esme Perry. Nice to meet you, Jesse.”
He looked over sharply in surprise at her name. She was not one of the three women the matchmaker had provided. Surely he couldn’t have forgotten a recommended candidate. Perhaps he’d missed an email from the matchmaker?
Except… Wait… Alarms sounded in the back of his mind. There were plenty of Perrys in Texas. But one branch in particular was heavy-duty on the radar of the Royal branch of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. “Perry, as in…”
“Yes, my father is Sterling Perry. We’re very excited about the new branch of the Texas Cattleman’s Club opening in Houston. My father sent me here to talk to you. To do a little recon,” she said with a sassy smile.
Disappointment churned. She hadn’t been sent by the matchmaker. He focused on the path ahead, a back road on higher ground to his home.
“A spy in our midst,” he said dryly. Granted, one helluva sexy Mata Hari.
“Not anything so nefarious.” She tugged at the belt of her trench coat. “I’m just here to see how you run things at the Royal branch.”
“Or to curry favor for your dad.”
She straightened in the seat, clearly bristling at the criticism of her father. But it wasn’t any secret that Sterling Perry had a sketchy past and a quest for power.
A quest that was currently playing out in a battle with Ryder Currin as they vied for control of the new Houston branch, to be opened in a historic building site, a former luxury boutique hotel. Ryder Currin was a self-made man. Whereas Esme’s family was led by the old-money, charming, larger-than-life patriarch Sterling Perry, who continued to grow the Perry fortune in banking, real estate and property development.
Jesse’s impression of the man? All show but little substance.
Was this woman like her dad? It seemed so, judging by her car and her clothes and her defense of her father.
He pulled up to his ranch home. More lights glimmered in the trees lining the driveway, and a wreath glowed on the front door of his white two-story house. A sprawling place he’d had built with hopes of one day having a family of his own. His parents were dead. He only had one sister, and while he loved her, she had her own life.
Now he was ready to build a future for himself.
Keeping his eyes off the woman beside him, he steered off the path and onto the driveway, circling around back. More twinkling lights marked the way. He’d arranged for decorations outdoors to make his place more welcoming, but hadn’t gotten around to the indoors. His life definitely needed a woman’s touch.
He activated the garage door opener, steered into the six-bay garage, and turned off the truck as the automatic door closed behind them. “You can stay at my place until morning…or until the weather blows over.”
“I appreciate the offer. Clearly, I’m in no position to turn you down.” She gestured to her bare feet and soggy clothes.
“Call it club loyalty. It would be irresponsible of me to send you back out into this weather.” He draped a hand over the steering wheel and allowed himself an unrestrained look at the bombshell beside him. “But I don’t talk about club business in my off-hours, so I won’t be discussing your father or the Houston chapter.”
“Fair enough. I just have one question, nothing about the Texas Cattleman’s Club.” She tipped her head to one side, her raincoat parting to reveal the curve of her breasts in the soaked silk shirt. “Who did you think I was?”
Two (#u359c0538-a906-5383-9cbb-97439e1d4a79)
Toying with her seat belt and not in any hurry to leave the truck just yet, Esme waited for Jesse’s answer, more curious than she would have liked to admit about what mystery woman he was expecting. Even knowing that cowboys weren’t her type, she couldn’t deny the appeal of those piercing green eyes.
He cocked an eyebrow as he reached for his Stetson. “I certainly didn’t think you were one of the infamous Perry family.”
She bristled at the censure in his voice. “Infamous?” she repeated, the bubble of romance officially burst. She unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the door handle. “That’s rather harsh, don’t you think?”
“I didn’t mean to offend,” he said as his boots hit the pristine cement floor of his six-car garage with a solid thud. “Your father was investigated on fraud charges and the murder of a Perry Holdings assistant not too long ago.”
Vincent Hamm had gone missing, the assistant presumed to have quit and moved to the British Virgin Islands to spend his life surfing, based on a text he’d sent his boss. But then his body had been discovered with a bullet wound to the chest, his skull bashed, making identification difficult. But DNA tests had confirmed the man’s identity.
Esme slammed the door, the sound reverberating in the dimly lit space. Her damp and muddy feet slipped ever so slightly as she charged forward alongside a speedboat, her toes still so icy cold, her mangled shoes dangling from her hand. An SUV, a motorcycle and a pair of four-wheelers filled the rest of the space. The man sure liked his toys.
Or maybe his family did?
She glanced at his left hand as he tapped the security code at the door leading into the house. No ring. But then, there was still the mystery woman.
Esme pulled her focus back to her reason for being here. To clean up her father’s image among the Texas Cattleman’s Club members here in Royal.
“My father was cleared of fraud and the murder of Vincent Hamm.” All hell had broken loose when the body was found at the site of the new Texas Cattleman’s Club, where her father’s construction company was doing the renovations. The murderer still hadn’t been found. “As I recall, you were under suspicion, too, after leaving an angry message on Hamm’s voice mail.”
“Valid point.” He waved her inside with a broad hand, his square jaw flexing. “Lucky for me, I have an airtight alibi.”
While he turned on the lights, she flung her damp hair over her shoulders and unbuttoned her trench coat. “Clearly there’s something more you want to say?”
Texas landscapes lined the walls of the corridor, one end leading to a washroom and the other leading into the house. He eyed her for a moment, sizing her up before nodding tightly. “Your father has led a cutthroat life in the business world. Sterling Perry may not be guilty of this, but the man he has been made it easier to believe it could be him.”
She couldn’t deny the truth in that. But that was still her daddy Jesse was talking about. “You certainly know how to win friends and influence people.”
Sighing, he swept off his hat. “Ma’am, you’re clearly tired. I’ll make you something to drink—decaf coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate?”
She was exhausted. But she had a narrow window of time. If she kept bristling this way, she would lose the chance to plead her father’s case to be the president of the Houston branch of the club. It was tough enough already with all the politics back home, given the other contender for the position was his longtime rival, Ryder Currin, who her father felt had unjustly gotten an oil-rich piece of land that should have stayed in the family. It didn’t seem to matter to Sterling that he already had more money than royalty and that Ryder had made the bulk of his fortune through savvy investments.
Although they had to get along these days since Ryder was seeing her sister Angela, that didn’t change the fact that her dad wanted the position. And Angela would have to live with that, because Esme intended to make this happen for her father.
“Hot chocolate, please, if it’s not too much trouble.” It sounded like something that would take longer to make. Give her more time to collect herself. Mold herself into the perfect influencer. “And no worries. I’m thick-skinned like my father.”
A fib. She actually was the most sensitive of her siblings, but that would smooth things over for now.
As the sensitive sibling, she’d learned early how to play family peacekeeper. To de-escalate tension and defuse situations—even though her heart often thudded loudly in her chest and panic rose in her blood.
With footfalls uncharacteristically silent for such a tall, broad-chested man, he moved into the laundry room. Light flickered on, and Esme peered inside the well-kept pale yellow room with green plant accents. He pulled clothes out of a basket on top of the dryer, then strode with cowboy swagger back to her. He motioned down the hallway. Sconces on the wall provided a warm light as they made their way to the massive kitchen. He placed the neatly folded clothes on the island.
With a surveying glance, she took in the open, sprawling layout. White granite countertops provided a sleek contrast to the dark wood cabinets. Open shelves displayed simple white dishes and mugs. A countertop overlooked a large bay window that, despite the night storm raging outside, offered an enviable view of the large barn and fence. Unlike the interior of the house, the barn and fence sported twinkling Christmas lights.
A thick but unfinished sandwich took up the majority of a white plate on the countertop. He must have been eating there when he’d spotted her car outside.
Jesse’s rough-cut smile lit up his green eyes. “Good, I’m glad to hear you’re tough. If we’re going to be trapped here together until the road’s cleared, it will be easier if we get along.”
Trapped? Now, that sounded promising.
“True enough.” She slid off her trench coat.
The room went silent as his eyes flickered with awareness, taking in her damp blouse and slacks. Her chilled skin warmed at his gaze.
Then he looked away, clearing his throat as he picked up a remote control off the island and thumbed on the sound system. Holiday tunes played softly, jazz renditions. That surprised her. She would have expected him to pick country music.
