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The Billionaire's Colton Threat
Geri Krotow
Their lives are in danger…and so are their hearts!Their lives are in danger…and so are their hearts!Single, pregnant and nearly bankrupt, Halle Ford makes a deal with a sexy Scottish devil: she'll marry billionaire Alastair Buchanan. Why? For the sake of their baby – conceived after one night of passion – and to save her beloved Bluewood Ranch. They plan to divorce after one year, but fate might just surprise them!But no sooner do the cowgirl and her Scot say ‘I do’, than their livelihoods are threatened. Someone begins sabotaging Halle's ranch, while Alastair's family whiskey empire comes under siege. Drawn together by passion and danger, can the newlyweds protect the family they've both come to cherish?


In the latest The Coltons of Shadow Creek romance, a billionaire and his expectant bride put their lives on the line
Single, pregnant and nearly bankrupt, Halle Ford makes a deal with a sexy Scottish devil: she’ll marry billionaire Alastair Buchanan. Why? For the sake of their baby—conceived after one night of passion—and to save her beloved Bluewood Ranch. They plan to divorce after one year, but their burgeoning Lone Star love might just surprise them!
But no sooner do the cowgirl and her Scotsman say, “I do,” than their very livelihoods are threatened. Someone begins sabotaging Halle’s ranch, while Alastair’s family whiskey empire comes under siege. Drawn together by passion and danger, can the newlyweds protect the family they’ve both come to cherish?
“Are you sure you want to take on another full-time job on top of the ranch? With a new baby?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?”
“That’s part of what brought me here, Halle.”
She grabbed a napkin from the acrylic holder on the table and wiped her eyes, then blew her nose. Alastair made a note to order the finest linen handkerchiefs for her, with the Scottish thistle embroidered on them. Her hands were long, her fingers graceful. Would their child have her hands?
Her long, shuddering breath emphasized her ramrod-straight posture. He was certain she was made of steel. She rested her sharp whiskey eyes on him.
“Go on.”
“Marry me, Halle. For the sake of our child, marry me.”
* * *
The Coltons of Shadow Creek:
Only family can keep you safe...
The Billionaire’s Colton Threat
Geri Krotow


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Former naval intelligence officer and US Naval Academy graduate GERI KROTOW draws inspiration from the global situations she’s experienced. Geri loves to hear from her readers. You can email her via her website and blog, www.gerikrotow.com (http://www.gerikrotow.com).
To my fearless agent,
Emily Sylvan Kim—thank you
for your belief in me.
Contents
Cover (#uad3ac290-d125-58d7-8ed9-f626ea00dbb4)
Back Cover Text (#uf43d2856-2075-5b1d-a9fe-365d6bbf144f)
Introduction (#uee304cff-7d65-592a-ac60-eba3c0075e93)
Title Page (#u9779219c-8484-5c8b-bcb2-867c1a99c886)
About the Author (#u584c2830-16fb-5733-b615-6247ac3112df)
Dedication (#u3788316f-25bf-57aa-9d0e-fdbe80e80198)
Chapter 1 (#u1d97a73a-6c3e-53ef-8196-1ce2ae8cb1a5)
Chapter 2 (#udad8c04a-d929-5812-a2bd-637286befe45)
Chapter 3 (#u888e59fa-881a-5654-99a8-e29a8a24d5b6)
Chapter 4 (#u1bc0556d-6568-56d9-9d96-3bdf950982d7)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ufa5afa86-4257-5471-a829-c4717a8cdf5d)
Halle Ford allowed her gaze to soak in the hill country that surrounded her family ranch. She’d been fortunate to travel around the country and world, but her heart always remained in Shadow Creek, Texas. Bluewood Ranch appealed to her inner cowgirl more than her slick corporate CPA job in Austin ever had. She leaned on the fence and sipped her morning cup of coffee, relishing this private time, her version of meditation. The split cedar logs that circled the paddock were as familiar as her father’s hug had been. As long as she didn’t think about how much he’d spent on the fancy fencing before he’d died. An eastern spotted lizard was on the top of the fence, sunning himself in the late summer sunshine. “Hey, little guy.” He ignored her, stretching his neck and displaying his brilliant green skin covered with flamboyant spots to his advantage.
Running her father’s ranch had always been a far-off dream, but Chancellor Ford’s sudden death in a horrific car crash six months ago had turned her dream into a nightmare. Besides facing the fact that Dad was gone forever, she’d had to come to terms with how he’d been killed. He’d been taken away by a hit-and-run driver, the same woman who’d terrorized Shadow Creek for decades until her imprisonment. Her terror had continued after her escape from prison and until her presumed death six months ago. Thanks to cop-bribing prison-escapee Livia Colton, Halle’s life had been shattered and she had inherited Bluewood Ranch. At present, Bluewood wasn’t faring well financially, much to her heartbreak. Even with her accounting and business acumen that she’d sharpened at that high-powered marketing firm in Austin, she’d been unable to bring the ranch back to life.
Yet. It had only been a little over six months, and the first six weeks or so after the accident didn’t count as far as she was concerned. The shock of Daddy’s death and her transition from an office career to running Bluewood had been tough. The move back to rugged, beautiful Shadow Creek from her well-appointed Austin condominium had been an adjustment in and of itself.
A soft whinny floated on the chilly morning breeze and she smiled as she recognized Elvis. The gelding was a gift from her dear friend Jade Colton. Jade ran Hill Country Farms, an off-track Thoroughbred rehab center. Jade had also sold Halle’s mare Buttercup to her after Chancellor Ford’s sudden death. Jade had known what a new horse would mean to Halle. Buttercup, along with Elvis and the other horses, had kept her from going over the edge after Daddy’s death. Murder was more like it.
Not for the first time she wanted to hurl the blue stone-fired mug at one of the boulders that sat in the makeshift rock garden between the ranch house and paddock. To smash the ceramic into lethal shards, as her heart had been when evil Livia Colton had killed her father. Even after being apparently killed in a freak flash flood right after the accident, Livia still haunted Halle. She wasn’t one for superstition but it was hard to remain practical in the face of such tragedy. More than once Halle wished she could bring Livia back from the dead so that she could confront the murderer. She had destroyed so many dreams in Shadow Creek.
The reminder that she wasn’t the only one who’d had her life torn apart by Livia Colton was little consolation but it did shake her out of the pity party she was brewing. She needed to focus on what she could change and at the moment that meant getting new tours scheduled. Horseback riding classes and pony rides brought in steady income, but nothing increased Bluewood’s revenue as quickly as the overnight tours. Halle loved showing her guests the best trails that wound through Texas Hill Country. Most of her groups were families, and as summer ended, kids were back in school. Her group tours dwindled, making her cash flow as spotty as her lizard buddy.
Her phone vibrated in her back pocket and she ignored it. The house phone was the main business line so she only answered her cell at her convenience. This was her rare quiet time in the day, the one part she kept sacred to herself unless she was on the trail with a ranch guest. After the vibration stopped, a second, shorter vibration informed her there was a voice mail.
“Dang it.” She pulled out the phone and saw that the message was from Jeremy Kincaid, her neighbor and friend. Halle pressed the callback button. Jeremy picked up immediately.
“Good morning, Jeremy.”
“Halle, how’s it going?”
“Right now, out here next to the stables? Great.”
Jeremy chuckled, low and deep. “That’s why we live here, right? Hey, I’m sorry to bug you so early but I’ve got an offer for you.”
“Okay.” She straightened from the fence and turned around, leaning her back against it. It wasn’t a secret that she was having trouble keeping Bluewood afloat, but Jeremy wasn’t about to offer her a pity job, was he?
“Don’t sound so grim. It’s a good thing. I have a friend in town who’s investing in the Austin tech scene, but he knows nothing about the area or Texas. I thought that if he booked a trail ride with you, it would be a perfect immersion experience for him.”
Relief thrummed through her. Jeremy was offering her a new client!
“Of course. When is he thinking of coming to Bluewood? And do you have any idea how long he wants to stay?” She figured a full-day ride would be what a techie business friend of Jeremy Kincaid’s would desire. Since Jeremy was a millionaire and famous in his field, chances were his friend would be successful, too. Longer than a day away from business would be unbearable to a type A techie, no matter how rich. And there wasn’t Wi-Fi on the trail.
“That’s the hitch. He’d like to start tomorrow, and he agreed to three nights, the better part of four days.”
She put her mug of coffee on the fence post and the spotted lizard darted away. “Three nights? Is it just him?” She’d taken out individual clients before, but she made sure they were safe with an indiscreet background check courtesy of Shadow Creek’s local PI, Adeline Kincaid, Jeremy’s new wife. She wasn’t sure one could be done on such short notice, but if anyone could do it for her, especially in these unusual circumstances, it would be Adeline.
“He’s looking at a sizable investment in our area, maybe involving virtual reality. It’s something Shadow Creek and Austin would benefit greatly from. Since we’ve been friends for so long, I suggested he immerse himself in the local culture and start with you.”
Relief that Jeremy knew the man so well allowed for a glimmer of hope. “A four-day trail ride isn’t going to tell him much about Austin.”
“No, but he’ll understand what makes a Texan tick. And I can vouch for him, Halle. He’s safe, the real deal. You don’t have to take an extra ranch hand with you.” Jeremy must have heard the trepidation in her voice. And he knew that paying an extra man to go on the trail would hurt her bottom line.
“You’re not playing matchmaker here, are you, Jeremy?” She kept her tone light.
“Well, you are both around the same age, and both single, but what you do with that is your business.”
They both laughed. Halle had missed the easygoing friendships of the countryside. Austin was a friendly city, but it was still a city. She hadn’t felt as much a part of a community as she did in Shadow Creek.
“There’s one more thing, Halle.” Jeremy sounded pleased, the way he did when he’d introduced Adeline as his wife. As if he’d discovered the secret to happiness and wanted to share it with the world.
“Go ahead.”
“He’s offered to pay extra for the late notice and one-on-one trail time.” Jeremy named a figure that made Halle glad she’d put her coffee mug down or she would have spilled it.
“That’s not necessary.”
“Rule one of business, Halle, is to never undersell your product. Since your expertise and knowledge are the product, one could argue that a place on a Bluewood ride is priceless.”
He was right. Of course he was—he was a millionaire. He hadn’t earned his money because he didn’t understand the basics of business. “Thanks, Jeremy. I’ll expect him tomorrow morning. Better yet, have him call me before sundown so that I can figure out what his riding experience is.”
“He’s not going to have time to call, as we’re heading into Austin for a full day of meetings. He says he’s ridden on and off since he was a kid, and he’s about my size, same age, so you can plan for the camp food and equipment.”
“So he’s never really been on a horse for longer than an hour or two at birthday parties.”
Jeremy’s pause confirmed her suspicions. “He’ll take whatever direction you give him, Halle.”
“Okay, that’s all I need to know. He can sign the injury liability waiver when he shows up. And, Jeremy—thanks for this.” She knew there were other trails and ranch businesses that catered to tourists and Jeremy probably knew all of them. He was doing her a huge favor.
“Hey, it’s the neighborly thing to do. Besides, I wouldn’t trust him with anyone else.”
She wondered what he meant but wasn’t going to pose any questions that could rock this lucrative boat. “I appreciate your confidence in me, Jeremy. Tell Adeline I said ‘hi.’”
“Will do. She’s packing right now or I’d put her on.”
“Taking the family to Disney?” She knew Jeremy loved nothing more than spoiling Adeline and their child.
Jeremy chuckled. “No, but we are going out of the country for a much-needed break. You can always reach me on my cell phone, no matter where I am.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t say it but she’d never bother them while they were on vacation, unless it was life or death.
“And by the way, Halle? Your guest’s name is Alastair Buchanan. Adeline says to tell you he’s safe.” Jeremy ended the call.
Halle shoved the phone into her rear pocket, heat hitting her cheeks as she realized she hadn’t asked the client’s name. Jeremy knew her, so he didn’t think she was careless, but she’d come off exactly how she never wanted to. Desperate. But if Adeline Kincaid said he was safe, he was. The Kincaids were a family of their word. And Adeline knew more than anyone the importance of personal security, after all she’d been through with the son she’d carried for Jeremy and his first wife, Tess, now deceased.
The sad memory of Tess’s death, and the initial suspicion that Livia Colton had been involved, threatened to sabotage the good news Jeremy had just given her. Bluewood had a new client.
Halle grabbed her mug and rolled her shoulders back as she headed toward the ranch house. The best way for her to stop obsessing over her own tragic loss was work, and she had a three-day trail ride to prepare for. She’d be grateful for this, no matter her grief.
* * *
The next morning Halle sprang out of bed an hour before dawn, unable to sleep with the anticipation of a full four-day trail ride galloping through her mind all night. She took her time with her shower and watched the sky start to lighten as her coffee brewed. With a full, hot mug, she headed for the paddock fence to greet the day.
Leaning against it, she wondered if her father had done this, too, after her mother had died when she was a toddler. Soothed his broken heart with the beauty of a Texas sunrise.
“Good morning.”
“Whoa!” Halle startled, spilling some of her coffee on her bare hand. She spun around from her morning meditation spot on the fence.
“Mr. Buchanan!” Her sole guest stood in front of her, dressed to ride in a combination of what she considered very high-end outdoor clothing and more practical items, like blue jeans. His height was impressive, as was his physical bearing. This wasn’t a man tied to a desk all day, not with those broad shoulders that filled out his Western snap-front shirt and olive pullover. His tapered waist was that of a man with abs of steel, and a vision of her fingers touching said stomach made them tingle. He was the full package, but that wasn’t what drew her, pulled her to look up into his eyes, brilliant flashes of the North Sea reflecting back at her. It was his essence. Alastair Buchanan had a spirit about him that intrigued her. It wasn’t anything she could chalk up to his ability to afford the top-end cowboy boots or hat he wore with the ease of the financially sound.
The expensive accessories were nothing she’d afford for a long while. She’d donated all but two of her business suits to the battered women’s shelter in Austin, so determined was she to make a go of the ranch and leave her old life behind. Because the property was so deep in debt she’d only been able to put together her newer clothing from the big box superstore nearest to Shadow Creek, on the way to Austin. Would someone like Alastair Buchanan know from how she was dressed that she was barely keeping her business afloat?
More important, why did she care?
“I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.” She struggled to shove down her self-consciousness.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” His Scottish accent was at odds with their surroundings and yet he looked comfortable as he watched her, one side of his mouth lifted as if he was holding back a smile. As if he belonged in Shadow Creek, fancy clothes excused. Her quick internet search hadn’t told her a lot, except that Alastair was one of the most eligible bachelors in the UK. He owned a whiskey business that had been in his family for generations, and invested all over the globe in other ventures. Clyde Whiskey remained its core, but Clyde Whiskey had morphed into a global conglomerate, including tech. “I can sit on the porch until you’re ready to start the tour.”
“We’ll start in a bit.” She sized him up but hoped she came off as a caring hostess. Ready? Alastair Buchanan would find out soon enough how “ready” she, and Bluewood, were. “Can I get you a cup of coffee, Mr. Buchanan?”
“No, thanks, but I’d appreciate a cup of tea if you have it.”
“Sure thing. Follow me.” She held her breath until he fell in next to her. “I’m not used to my trail guests being ready to go so early.”
“I’ve always been up with the sun.” The words rolled from his mouth like music and she had to force herself to stop staring at his lips. Well-formed, sensual, male lips. And that voice—she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed hearing that brogue until now. As a junior in college, she’d spent a year abroad in Scotland and loved every minute of it. But she hadn’t met men like Alastair when she was at university.
What the heck was going on with her? Clearly she’d been holed up at Bluewood for too long, not seeing the usual bevy of attractive men she’d gotten used to at her job in Austin. She couldn’t help her primal physical response to him or any man, but clients were out of bounds. She didn’t go there. But if she could, Alastair would be a temptation.
“Getting up early will serve you well. We’ll get to cover more land the sooner we’re on the trail each day. And other than tonight, it’s supposed to stay clear and dry.”
“Rain isn’t an issue for me. I’m from a land of rain.” Alastair’s lilt made her want to sit down and listen to him tell his life story. But this wasn’t a pub in Edinburgh and he wasn’t Robert Burns. He was her client; this trail ride was her job.
Get it together, girl.
“We’ll get going as soon as we have our teatime.” She opened the door to the ranch house and motioned for him to enter, shushing the barking Australian shepherd dogs. “Guests first. Don’t worry about the pups—they think it’s their job to herd ranch guests, but they don’t bite.” He looked a little put off at going in before her, underscoring his so far impeccable manners. He walked across the threshold and she caught a whiff of his soap. The sexy combination of sheets dried in the sun with Buchanan musk had to be some super expensive cologne, because no scent had ever made her skin tingle. She held back a groan as she watched his impeccably shaped ass in his jeans. This was going to be one heck of a ride.
* * *
Alastair shrugged out of his thin over-layer as he followed Halle Ford to her house. He appreciated the brief respite from her penetrating gaze and obvious appraisal of him. Normally he enjoyed the sexual tension of a female’s assessment, but his blood had rushed so quickly to his dick he’d gotten flustered.
He, Alastair, the family rock who kept their business afloat and globe-trotted with the best of them, felt like an adolescent at Eton who’d snuck his first glance at a naked woman.
“Once I have the ranch fully up and operational, we’ll have a full guest building with at least four or six rooms and a total of twelve bunks. For now, the guest room is the house. While you won’t be staying here as we’re heading out today, feel free to leave any luggage or extras you don’t want to bother with on the trail.” She glanced up at him and he was jolted by her no-holds-barred beauty. Unlike the women he was used to in Glasgow and even here since his arrival in Texas, Halle showed no signs of wearing makeup. She didn’t need it, not with that peachy cream skin and blinding smile. Her dimples projected an innocence her body and expression were in direct conflict with. And her lips... Hell.
He fought to keep his erection at bay but it was futile. His body was reacting to something beyond him, something intangible. The Halle effect.
“I didn’t realize your business was new.” He took off his cowboy hat and removed his boots, shadowing her movements as they entered the small house. Three herding dogs swarmed around them and he smiled.
“Sorry about the doggies.” She offered a half grin.
“Are you kidding? I adore dogs.” He crouched down and held his hands out for sniffing. It took a few minutes but eventually all three allowed him to scratch behind their ears.
“They don’t usually warm up this quickly to strangers.” At the hoarseness of her voice, he looked up. Were those tears in her liquid brown eyes?
Halle cleared her throat and motioned for him to stand. “Bathroom’s on the right. I’ll be in the kitchen making tea.”
“Thank you.” Alastair didn’t really need to use the loo, but again found himself needing a bit of a buffer between Halle and himself. Or was it more that he needed space from the sexual awareness arcing between them? As certain as he was that it was mutual, he’d only just met the woman. So why did he feel as though he’d known her his entire life?
* * *
After she had another fortifying cup of coffee and made her Scottish client tea, she gathered what she’d packed last night for the ride and escorted Alastair Buchanan back outside, nearer the stables.
“Let me start over the right way, Mr. Buchanan. Welcome to Bluewood Ranch in Shadow Creek, Texas. We’re an authentic cattle operation with two herds of cattle. A herd of cattle for our ranch is approximately one hundred steer and our product is longhorn steer.” Halle smiled and opened her mouth to continue her usual opening remarks, words she shared with every tourist group she hosted on her ranch. With perfect timing, a bug flew into her mouth. Halle’s throat squeezed into a spasm and she started to cough uncontrollably. She stomped the dirt in front of the broken corral fence and clutched a weathered post for balance as her body rejected the horsefly that had obviously been aiming for her tonsils. Alastair gracefully took her mug out of her hand, allowing her to cough more forcefully.
Her momentary hacking fit wouldn’t have been so bad if she were addressing a group of local elementary school students, or tourists who simply wanted a taste of the Wild West by working a cattle drive. But her audience was none other than a tall, incredibly hot man whose left hand was bare. And he had a delicious Scottish brogue. Halle’s love life had been dry for so long she might have thought any single man looked good, but this Scot in fancy cowboy clothes was looking mighty tasty to her.
Unlike the flavor of Texas dirt the fly put in her mouth.
“Excuse me.” Halle held up her index finger, hoping her mascara wasn’t smudged by her streaming tears.
Alastair didn’t seem to notice that she was choking to death. In fact, the VIP whiskey billionaire for whom Jeremy requested she provide a “special” no-notice tour was decidedly bored.
“You can skip the touristy chitchat, Ms. Ford. Call me Alastair, and save the riding lesson, as well. Once you catch your breath, feel free to give me the basic overview of the land. Keep it simple. I’m not asking for anything more than you usually do.” He flicked his North Sea–blue gaze from her to the countryside, as if measuring her against the rugged backdrop. The outskirts of Austin, Texas—and Shadow Creek in particular—weren’t noted for appearing anything but the wild countryside it was. In his quick glance she felt measured against her native surroundings. His stern stance made her feel as though she hadn’t measured up to whatever his yardstick was. Did he think she was in over her head?
“If you’re sure about ignoring the riding safety review...” She’d had him sign the appropriate paperwork. He couldn’t sue her if he fell off his horse.
“Certain.” His voice was sexy even when he was being a typical successful businessman—emotionally detached and certain his way was the only way. Halle had handled tourists of all ilk on her ranch and it took a lot to rattle her. Alastair Buchanan’s know-it-all air shook her usually relaxed demeanor and it annoyed her. “Can we get moving, Ms. Ford?”
Well, all righty, then. “Sure thing. If you’re Alastair, I’m Halle. You did say you’re an experienced rider and camper, and you’re a party of one, so I’ll forgo the preliminaries. Are you interested in Central Texas history at all?”
The man had offered to pay five times her usual fee for a group of up to twelve people. All she had to do was promise it would be an exclusive, private tour. With the ranch’s accounting books decidedly in the red this past quarter, she couldn’t afford to not please her client. Her horses needed to eat. At his stiff silence, she belatedly added a smile to her query. “I was a history minor in college.”
“History always interests me. I’m here to try to absorb the lay of the land, to get a feel for its appeal.” His blue gaze steadied on her again with laser accuracy. His eyes had been the first things she’d noticed about him after his ruggedly tall frame. His mouth twisted. “I know I sound like an ass. I apologize. I’ve been distracted with business issues. Thank you for agreeing to take me on such short notice. Jeremy told me it was pure luck that you had the next few days open. And while I appreciate you rolling out the red carpet, the next seventy-two hours are my only chance to see the countryside surrounding Austin before I fly back to Glasgow. I hope I can put you at ease by assuring you that I’m adept on a horse and I’ve done my share of roughing it.” He offered her a lopsided grin, which she much preferred. “And I’ve swallowed a mosquito or two myself.”
Halle sucked down half the contents of her refillable water bottle, watching Alastair as she did so. She wanted to inform him that she wasn’t merely a local bumpkin, that she’d in fact spent her junior year of college in Glasgow. But it wasn’t her job to tell a client off. This was Jeremy and Adeline’s friend, so ending the tour here and now was out of the question. And her overdue utility bills demanded she complete the job and get the paycheck. But while she’d play the gracious hostess as best she could, she didn’t have to take Alastair’s attitude. He was on her turf. This was Texas, and she was born and bred by one of the most outstanding Texans ever to live in these parts. Stinging tears tore at her already wet eyeballs at the reminder of her father. She drew in a shaky breath and steeled her spine.
“Excuse me, Alastair. We grow our bugs a bit bigger in Austin than you do in Glasgow. Same for our countryside—it’s easy to think you know where you are, that you’re on the path you started out on, and that you’re safe. But the hills and desert can turn life threatening in a blink.”
“I’m sure they can.” Spoken like the wealthy man he was. Her internet search last night had yielded that Alastair had surpassed “wealthy” a decade ago. He was indeed one of the richest men in the UK. Halle didn’t give an armadillo’s ass. Rich or destitute, all men put their Wranglers on the same way. Although not all fit as well as Alastair’s jeans.
Another reminder that since her father’s death she’d been too busy to date, to contemplate being in a man’s arms. The thrum that Alastair’s good looks spiked in her core underscored her unwitting sexual fast.
“The best equipment in the world, the finest trail horse, the most proficient riding technique—none of them matter if you get lost in the desert, or stranded by a lame animal. It always boils down to wit and humility.” She didn’t mean to sound so bossy but something about the tall Scottish dude and his burr was making her crazy. He looked at her as if she was irking him, too.
“Got it.” His gaze flickered to his mount. “And your best horses are these two? Won’t we need a third for the camping gear?”
Heat rushed her face. “All of the horses at Bluewood are exceptional. I rotate the workload amongst them, and several are in need of a rest. Buster and Buttercup will serve us well. I’ve packed as lightly as possible, with enough for the two of us for four days and three nights. I always take a little extra in case of an unexpected event. I can guarantee you that we’ll be hungry when we get back at the end of that last day, and we’ll have a hearty meal here.” Her other horses were having annual checkups while they were out. Even though her veterinarian gave her a huge discount, it was going to be another costly bill. She’d had the lousiest luck with the timing of ranch and animal maintenance expenses lately. As if someone or something was trying to tell her that she’d never get Bluewood Ranch up and running at a profit again. She shook off the shudder that raced down her spine. Superstitions were nonsense. Not something she was going to share with this billionaire bronco rider wannabe, though. “You’ll have a great ride with Buster.”
“How do you know these two won’t fall ill?”
“They’re perfectly healthy. My vet checked them over last week.” She patted Buttercup’s side and watched Alastair as he smoothed his large hand over Buster’s spotted neck. The pinto was still a bit of a handful but Alastair had insisted on him over Buttercup. Elvis was behind her in the paddock, where Charlie, her ranch hand, had put him as she’d spoken to Alastair. While she would have loved to take Elvis today, he’d just finished up two daylong trail rides in a row. And Buttercup was in need of exercise.
“You’re anxious to let off some steam, aren’t you?” Alastair’s brogue was low and sexy as he spoke to Buster. Something shifted in Halle’s defenses. A man who cared about a horse he’d only just met couldn’t be all bad.
He’s a client. Nothing more. It was sad that she had to talk her hormones down from the ledge that would have her jumping on Alastair in an Austin minute.
Client. He’s a client. It could be her new mantra.
“How long have you known Jeremy, Alastair?”
“Long enough to trust his business judgment. He says Austin is the new Silicon Valley—the place for tech.”
“Yes, but you’re smart to check out the rest of Austin.” The real Austin, as far as she was concerned. Away from the congested city and ever-expanding suburbs.
“Am I?” His patronizing expression galled her. Again she wanted so badly to set him straight, tell him that she knew a hell of a lot more about the socio-economic status of a city in which she’d held down a high-level corporate job, but she shoved it down. With what she earned this trail ride, she might be able to pay off the remaining bills for the cedar rail fencing and the latest round of vet expenses.
“Well, then, let’s get moving.”
“After you.” He took his cowboy hat off and used it to emphasize the sweep of his arm toward the start of the trail. A trail etched on Halle’s heart long ago, worn smooth by rides with her father. She looked at the sky to confirm what she already knew—the weather wasn’t on their side today.
“Thank you, Alastair. Normally I’d spend a little more time going over our itinerary with you before we set off, but with the cold front coming in I think it’s best we get a move on. We want to pitch our camp ahead of the rain.” She waved toward the thin silver line visible across the mostly flat parcels of land. Before they made camp the clouds would grow, the wind increase. Winter was coming in its usual, no-nonsense Texas manner.
“A gal after my own heart—I wouldn’t mind making camp sooner, either, as I have some work to do. On my phone, of course.”
“I can guarantee you there won’t be any Wi-Fi where we’re headed, and cellular signal strength isn’t dependable.”
“Ah, ye of little faith, Ms. Ford. I have magic in my pocket that will take care of that.”
“Halle. Call me Halle.” She choked on her words as she really, really wanted to add a playful comment about what exactly the sexy Scotsman had in his pocket but didn’t want to risk that he’d think she was coming on to him. Or that her tourist business offered anything more than a foray into Texas Hill Country. She almost laughed out loud at the thought of her company becoming an escort service.
The morning sun cast long shadows of their figures upon the rolling hills outside the corral. Since Alastair said he knew how to ride, she’d given in to allowing him to ride Buster, her tallest horse by far at seventeen hands. She hated to admit it but his tall, lanky frame fit Buster’s muscular structure perfectly. Alastair Buchanan looked like every woman’s dream of a sexy, chiseled cowboy.
Not her dream, of course. She didn’t care whether her client was attractive or not.
“Jeremy mentioned you’re here to scout out Austin. Are you planning to start a business here?”
“Yeah. Maybe. Something like that.”
She hadn’t meant to sound nosy. “What kind of horse do you ride in Scotland?”
“A big one.”
Halle couldn’t help the glare she knew she shot him when she glanced his way. The crinkles around his eyes made her want to dig her heels into her mount and take off for the hills—the hell with impressing Jeremy’s important friend.
Alastair let out a short laugh. “I’m sorry, Halle, but you’re so serious. I understand that you probably deal with a lot of beginner riders out here as well as wilderness newbies. I’m not that person. I meant it when I told you that I’m interested in seeing as much of the countryside as three days allow me to. There’s no need to put on your regular show for me, or to be so polite with the cocktail banter. Please, can we be a bit less formal?”
“Sure. For the record, though? I don’t put on a ‘show.’ What you see is what you get. I’m interested in anyone who’s thinking of adding to our area. I love this land and make no apologies for it.”
“I’d expect no less.” There he was again, being all polite and sensible, almost gallant. She snorted. Alastair’s voice might sound like she imagined a knight’s would have five centuries ago, but he had very modern sensibilities. Billionaire instincts.
They rode for a few minutes, silent save for the creak of their saddles. Alastair kept looking at his cell phone, which he’d rested on the front of his saddle in some kind of contraption that she’d seen a few clients bring along. She’d required them to put their phones away, for safety. But since Alastair claimed he was an expert rider, she said nothing. If he ended up on his butt because he missed a rough spot in the trail, so be it. As long as he didn’t injure her horse. Or blame her for the fall.
Halle cleared her throat. “So what do you want to know about Austin?”
He switched off his screen and she found herself the sole object of his attention. It was at once intimidating and stimulating. “What brought you here, Halle? To Bluewood, Shadow Creek?”
“That has nothing to do with your exploration of the area, Alastair.”
“It does. You’re young and can manage a ranch. Why not use your talents in another business, something more lucrative?” So he had noticed the worn-down ranch, her inexpensive riding gear.
“I grew up on this ranch. The only time I left was for college, after which I worked for several years in the city. I returned here to run the ranch for personal reasons.”
“What did you do in the city?”
She paused. Alastair was a client, period. She owed him no explanation for who she was, why she was doing this. Working the ranch that had been her father’s heartbeat.
“I’m a CPA. Corporate business.” She looked at her interrogator. “If it’s all right with you, since you’re an experienced horseman, I’m going to take the lead. The horses will appreciate a good workout.”
“Lead on.” Again, the gentlemanly nod. It would look ridiculous if it were any other man doing it, but Alastair Buchanan didn’t strike her as any other man.
* * *
Alastair didn’t mind the rear view he had of his fearless tour guide as he and Halle trotted, galloped and strode over mile upon mile of rough, Central Texas ranch land. It seemed he didn’t mind any view he’d had of her since they’d met. How was it that this woman, a complete stranger to him before this morning, was absorbing all of his attention? He was single and enjoyed dating as much as he could while running the family whiskey and investment business. This had to be a result of knowing he was going to be alone with her for several days, with no interruption. He trusted Jeremy implicitly—his friend wouldn’t steer him wrong as far as suggesting he get to know more about the Texas countryside with Halle. And Jeremy had encouraged him to flirt with her.
It wasn’t Jeremy’s fault that Alastair had fought against his boner since meeting Halle.
Telling himself to get a grip, Alastair forced himself to concentrate on the countryside instead of Halle’s ass. If only for a minute. Or thirty seconds.
It was different from any other kind he’d seen before. Flatter and far less green than his family properties in Scotland, but stunning in its plain ruggedness. And the unexpected copses of trees in Texas—they were unique, as were the several creeks and rivers they’d rode around and through all day. The sun was warm and the breeze almost crisp. He had a hard time believing it was due to storm anytime soon, as the skies were bluer than Loch Ness in September. Save for the line of clouds at the very edge of the northwestern horizon. He already felt connected to this land, something he didn’t experience with every business deal, to be sure. Alastair enjoyed travel and prided himself on learning about local cultures wherever Clyde Whiskey had interests. But Texas already felt far more important, far more significant to him than a place to invest in tech. His gut told him his fearless tour guide might have something to do with it, but it wasn’t just about sexual attraction.
Used to trusting his intuition in business, he was thrown off balance by how strongly he felt about Halle and Texas. It was more than a good hunch; it was more like a soul moment.
The jet lag must have caught up to him. He’d faired fine over his first week, but now, in the Texas wilds, his circadian rhythm was doing a quick two-step.
“Let’s stop over there for lunch.” He heard her suggestion with great relief. Food, that was what he needed. Sustenance. Halle’s profile was partially hidden under her cowboy hat as she spoke over her shoulder. He tore his gaze from her body, a body that filled out weathered blue jeans in a way that made it easy for him to imagine her naked. Halle sat in the leather saddle as if it were a part of her. He reluctantly looked at the trees she pointed to.
“Looks like the perfect spot.” He guided Buster to the shady area under several willows. They dismounted and he followed Halle and Buttercup. In the few short hours they’d been riding, he learned that in Texas, where there were trees, there’d be some water nearby. Unlike his native Scotland, where lochs and rivers were liable to spring up without any surrounding forest. Sure enough, a small creek gurgled just past the slight rise of mossy ground, beyond the willows.
“We’ll let them get their fill first.” Halle’s voice was quiet, almost contemplative. Alastair stood next to her, their horses providing a sense of privacy on either side.
“It’s amazing how a ride in which your animal does most of the work has the same effect as several hours in the gym.”
Her sharp amber gaze raked his face as if surprised. “Yes. When I lived downtown, I belonged to a gym and hated it.”
“You prefer the outdoors?”
Her eyes widened and he wanted to check himself. Why did everything he said to her sound like a cheap come-on?
“I don’t mind a fun class with lots of loud music, but when the day’s done, I’m most at home here.” Her guard was back up. What made her so wary, so suspicious?
“Do you ever feel threatened out here? With your clients?”
“I have Adeline run a background check whenever I get a request for a private tour. As for you? I trust Jeremy and Adeline. The Kincaids are good people. They wouldn’t send me anyone who I needed to be afraid of.” Her tongue flicked out and licked her lip right before she bit into the plump skin. Instant erection. Holy hell, what was he, a teenager? He tried to recall his most recent dates. He’d only left Scotland a little over a week ago. That meant he’d been away from a woman’s company for what, ten days, a fortnight? Not enough to be losing his cool in front of a sexy Texas babe.
“Er, no, I’m certain they wouldn’t, either. About where we’re spending the night—will there be a shelter of some sort?”
Halle snorted. “I’ve brought two quick-setup tents, one for each of us. This isn’t the Appalachian Trail, Alastair. We don’t have lean-tos out here, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“I assure you I can manage. And I’d prefer to sleep under the stars sans any tent or structure. I asked about the shelter to offer it to you.” And to see if they’d be alone the entire four days. He was finding he rather enjoyed the prospect of alone time with Halle Ford.
Save for his work. It seemed he was never without work, never had a break from worrying about his investments. Hiking in the wilderness had always been his way to let go of his responsibilities. He’d camped often as a boy, and enjoyed it through university. When Jeremy had suggested he do this with Halle, Alastair had relished the idea of sleeping on the ground again. What he hadn’t anticipated was such an attractive companion. He’d mistakenly thought he’d regret that anyone was with him, as Alastair’s solitude was his most precious possession. Somehow, Halle didn’t intrude on that for him.
“I’m sure you’re quite the camper, from what you’ve said.” Her tone indicated she didn’t believe it in the least.
“Before you judge me, I have to tell you that there are some business items I still have to take care of, even out here. Is this a good time for me to send off a few emails?”
“Suit yourself.”
He walked to the far side of the shady area and pulled his phone off his saddle. He felt guilty, as if he were infringing on the serenity of their surroundings, on the delightful companionship he was finding with Halle. His gut kept tugging at him, telling him that for some inexplicable reason his time with Halle Ford was precious.
He sighed and started to take care of business. The sooner he was done, the sooner he’d be able to fully enjoy Halle’s company.
More than for calls or texts, his phone was a minisatellite reception tower, all in one unit that fit in his pocket. Being a billionaire had its perks, one of which included solid Wi-Fi in the middle of Nowhere, Texas. He’d lied to Halle, too. He wasn’t checking email—he was checking the London Exchange, and the New York Stock Exchange. One thing that he’d inherited from the long line of Buchanan men who’d turned a farm distillery into a single malt Scotch global empire was his killer business instinct.
And right now, someone was trying to kill his life’s work, his legacy. Someone, either an entity or group of investors, was attempting a hostile takeover of Clyde Whiskey. It was strange, as it had popped up only since he’d arrived at Bluewood. He didn’t have the solid proof yet to alert his team, but he knew it the same way he knew why his family’s Scotch recipe was singularly the best of the best.
A crisp dry beating sound drew his gaze from his phone screen to the brush under his feet, next to the clay of the riverbank. He’d seen enough nature programs to recognize the copper-skinned reptile as a rattlesnake. It sported a black diamond pattern and was no farther than three feet from him. As thick as his wrist and coiled into a tight ball, its rattles shook inside the tail, indicating it was a highly agitated snake. He’d watched enough BBC nature programs to know that much.
Alastair also knew he had no defense against the deadly creature. He was rooted to the spot, afraid a sudden movement would force the snake to strike. No way would he be able to outrun its deadly speed, either. And if he got struck, he wouldn’t be able to warn Halle. Was this how he and Halle were going to meet their end? In the backwoods of Texas?
An unstoppable wave of primal emotion propelled him to raise his arm and throw his phone at the snake. Before his phone made it airborne, the snake struck.
Chapter 2 (#ufa5afa86-4257-5471-a829-c4717a8cdf5d)
“Back toward my voice, slowly.” Alastair would feel like a damned fool if he wasn’t certain he was near death. He held on to Halle’s voice. The snake’s head had hit the ground not two inches from the toes of his too-shiny, too-new cowboy boots as it had struck out at Alastair. The boots had seemed a more practical, if impulsive, buy when he was in Austin. He thanked God he was wearing them and not sneakers.
Halle’s voice gave him courage, not something he usually drew on from others. Even with a close family, Alastair considered himself a loner. His strength came from within. Not now. Halle was his rock as he complied, moving backward until he bumped into her. To his visceral relief, the snake slithered back underneath the rock it had been sunning on before he’d disturbed it.
He turned and found Halle’s eyes watching him, her luscious lips curved in a small smile. “Was that your first rattlesnake?”
“Yes.” But not the only threat out here in the Texas wilderness. Halle held a revolver in her hand. “Tell me, Halle. Do you always carry weapons on family trail rides?”
“Yes. For rattlesnakes and to warn off coyotes.” He suspected it was also in case she ran into criminals.
“Have you ever had to use it against a human being?”
“Not yet, but there’ve been a few scrapes.”
He was looking down at her, close enough to see that her eyes weren’t brown or even amber but the perfect shade of Clyde Whiskey. Single malt, the premium drink that enjoyed worldwide acclaim. But her eyes were just the start of a beautiful face, her nose small and classical, her lips full and incredibly erotic.
“Thank you for saving me, Halle.”
Her eyes looked at his mouth for a full heartbeat before she stepped away.
“You were fine. Rattlers don’t strike unless they feel cornered. You startled him off his sunning spot, that’s all. He would have backed off as long as you didn’t go after him.” Her speech was increasing in velocity. “Your boots helped, too—if he hit your leg you would have been safe. Although you wouldn’t need thousand-dollar boots for that. And for the record, you would have never hit him with your phone.”
“You really know how to make a man feel like John Wayne.”
“It’s all part of your special tour, Alastair. Are you hungry yet?” Her grin was genuine, a flash of inviting white. “We’ve got the best trail food in Texas. I cheated and used my two horseback coolers so that you could enjoy some real food out here. Of course, if you’d caught your friend, barbecued rattlesnake is tasty.”
“Like chicken, I take it?”
She laughed. “You might just survive out here, after all. Let’s eat.”
She spoke as they walked to the horses, and put the gun away in one of her saddlebags. “Sliced Texas brisket or egg salad sandwich?” She pulled out a small bag and held up two wax-paper wrapped bundles.
“Beef.”
They ate in relative silence, for which Alastair was grateful. He needed time to process what he’d just done for the first time in his life. He’d relied on someone other than himself or family to help him out of a life-threatening situation. Gratitude, sexual attraction and downright affection fought for first place in his heart as he took a full account of his feelings since he’d met her. Although a sexual relationship with Halle or any woman was never a sure thing, he knew one thing for certain. Halle made the best kind of friend. She was trustworthy and true to her word. Not boastful but sure of her capabilities and not afraid to use them, as she had been to scare the snake away.
Halle Ford was a woman that Alastair suspected would be difficult to say goodbye to, whether she ended up being his friend or lover.
What he’d really like best would be for her to be both.
* * *
Halle used the lunch break to get her imagination under control. Because it was a total nightmare to even contemplate a sexual rodeo with Alastair, but contemplate she had as she’d been up close and personal with him. When his hard body had backed away from the rattler and into hers, she couldn’t help but wonder how all of that hard muscle would feel, naked under her hands.
Her unintentional vow of chastity to Bluewood was making her crazy. Maybe she needed to start dating again, once she had the ranch running at a profit, or enough of a cash flow for nicer groceries, anyway. Halle wasn’t a food snob by any means but she enjoyed sushi and other less economical treats as much as the next millennial.
“You’re worried about the rain. Is it supposed to flood?” His Adam’s apple moved under his skin as he finished the last of his bottle of sparkling water. Halle noted that he hadn’t spoken as he ate. More like wolfed down his meal—the man might be a gazillionaire but money didn’t take away his basic makeup.
He was incredibly attractive. The man was a sex swizzle stick, for God’s sake. Yet he didn’t act like a jerk, didn’t make a play for her. He treated her like a professional.
Which of course made him even more attractive. Not only for how the integrity that simmered underneath his all-business, all-the-time demeanor. He was a true gentleman in that he hadn’t flung a crude come-on at her or tried to flirt with her in a creepy way. His good manners reminded her of her father’s. Although she had to admit she’d love it if he decided to make any kind of romantic move. Client and all. She’d always enjoyed the challenge, the push and pull, the delicate balance of tension that surrounded a full flirtation. She was her father’s daughter, for sure. Chancellor Ford had never backed away from any challenge.
White-hot anger seared her heart. Her father’s life had ended horribly, in a car accident he’d had no warning was coming. He’d been murdered in cold blood by a hit-and-run driver, a woman Halle would never forgive. She had to physically shake her head to break free of the grief that threatened to swamp her.
“Halle? The rain—is it going to be that bad?” Alastair’s concern was in the lines around his mouth, the intensity of his stare. The words were about weather but the subtext was clear. Are you okay? Are you nuts or something?
Halle wrapped her waxed paper and napkin into a ball. “Worried is a strong word. I’m concerned that we’ll get caught in the downpour and get soaked. Hypothermia would be a quick end to our adventure.”
“The rattlesnake could have ended it, too. And while I still hope that I can sleep directly under the stars tonight, I’ll take you up on the spare tent if you think it’s best. But only after we get yours set up, and you convince me you’ll be safe. You’re my trusted tour guide, after all. It wouldn’t be prudent to have you hurt this early in the adventure.”
Halle’s heart warmed. It had to be a major concession for such a worldly man, even though he’d couched it as her decision, to sleep in the tent instead of under the stars directly. His manner of trying to disguise his concern for her as selfishness on his part was downright adorable. And sexy as all get-out.
“All of the riders I bring out here dream of sleeping under the stars, but I have to say that rattlesnakes and scorpions can ruin a perfectly good night’s sleep. The tent is the easiest solution. We’ll set them both up. You can see the stars best before sunup, anyhow. We’ll have our coffee with the dawn.”
Alastair laughed and with growing dread Halle realized it was a sound she could get used to. Too fast, too deep.
“I wouldn’t want to meet our friend from earlier in my bedroll. Or make you have to shoot it in the middle of the night.”
“Trust me, if there’s a snake in your bed, you’re on your own.”
“Really?” The gray-blue gaze, the relaxed mouth, the day’s rough growth of stubble. Her face heated at Alastair’s innuendo. A normal reaction, but the heat that entered farther down her belly and into her female core went too far for her sense of professionalism.
“Since neither of us wants that, let’s get going. We’ve got a couple of hours till we’re at the first night’s campsite.” She couldn’t get astride Buttercup fast enough.
“You don’t have to keep running away from me. Unlike the rattlesnakes and scorpions, I don’t bite.” He’d maneuvered Buster up next to her and Buttercup with the ease of a skilled horseman. She had to give him credit—he may not appreciate just how brutal “roughing it” could be in Texas, but he knew his way around a horse.
“I’m sorry to give you the impression that I’m avoiding you. I’m used to leading a dozen folks at a time, many beginner riders. They usually like to be together with someone they know, to keep their conversation easy. Even when I take out single guests, I’m not used to making more than small talk on the trail.”
“Our conversation can be easy. And I’ll follow you wherever you want to go.”
Zing. Her attraction to him lit up like a Christmas tree. The way it made her body feel was like a special gift. She knew her face was flushed and hoped he couldn’t see her hardened nipples under her shirt. Because as much as she loved Christmas and the live tree she continued to cut down, drag in and set up each year in Bluewood Ranch’s modest living room, she didn’t need her sexual desires on full display in front of a business client.
“You don’t strike me as the easy-talking type, Alastair. You don’t run a successful business like Clyde Whiskey without being very exacting.”
“True, but that’s work. Which I can’t seem to get away from these days.” He lifted his hat and let the breeze lift his short locks before replacing it. “It’s never done, never secure. Not in the age of HFT.”
“HFT?”
“High-frequency trading. Have you thought of investing your profits from the ranch into the market, when you’re ready?” He was so sincere, so earnest in his concern for her financial well-being.
Halle couldn’t have stopped the laugh if she’d wanted to. “I’m lucky to be able to invest in groceries at the end of a month.”
Alastair’s eyes filled with compassion. “Getting a business up and running is difficult, but continuing to successfully run one year after year can prove just as challenging, if not more so. We’re two of a kind, Halle Ford. I suspect we both have a passion for our businesses, and that’s why we do what we do. All the sacrifice. Tell me about your business, Halle.”
To her surprise, she did.
* * *
Alastair kept his eyes on Halle the entire time she confided in him. He was so touched, so damn honored that she trusted him enough to tell him what she’d been through. His concern over her welfare spiked as he listened. Halle spoke as if the tragic death of her father, which she clearly blamed a dead woman named Livia Colton for, had happened in another family, not hers. She was too detached. He wondered if she’d properly processed the ordeal, and worried for her when she did, when it would all hit her. He hoped he’d be around to help her through it, as ridiculous as it seemed on paper, since they’d known one another for such a short time. Alastair got Halle’s dilemma—he knew what it meant to have to shove down pain that would otherwise choke the last gasp of joy out of him.
“I’ve gone through similar trials. We’ve almost lost our business half a dozen times over the past decade. It’s so hard at times. If it weren’t for my family and the fact that Clyde Whiskey is a family business, I’d have hung it up on more than one occasion.” As he spoke he felt tremendous relief. As if he were the one unburdening to her. Maybe he was.
She nodded.
“It’s important to me to keep Bluewood Ranch running. I know that the tourist business isn’t going to keep it alive forever, but I haven’t figured out what else I want to do, what would be financially feasible, for the ranch.” She spoke with the weight of an executive CEO, which he found admirable, since Bluewood seemed like a relatively small operation. Halle took her responsibilities seriously, her experience with larger corporate concerns evident. It was another reason she was unlike any other person he’d ever known, and why he desperately wanted to know her better. So much better. Halle did nothing halfway. She was the epitome of “go big or go home.”
“Have you thought about attracting outside investors?” He thought he’d asked it innocently enough, not mentioning Jeremy outright.
“A pity handout? Never. The big money around these parts is the Colton family and I will never take a penny from them. Even in the wrongful death of my father, I never sought restitution. The only payback would have been to put Livia Colton behind bars. Since she’s dead, it’s a moot point.”
“Understood. But Jeremy’s not a Colton.”
“No, but he’s my friend, as is Adeline. I don’t want to mix friendship and business. Not when investing in the ranch is such a risk. For the moment.” A cloud ran across the sky, putting them in shadow. Halle’s face was guarded.
“And yet you allowed Jeremy to send me here. Is there something you aren’t telling me about the risk at Bluewood?”
“No, not at all.” She let out a soft sigh as she looked at the horizon. “I always planned to take over Bluewood from my dad. Looked forward to it. I knew that someday I’d be running it.”
“But?”
“It’s happened too quickly. I’ve had to learn my way around ranching and the tourism industry while still booking clients. I never feel as if I’m one hundred percent in either role—apprentice or ranch expert.”
“Do you have any staff to help out?” He’d only noticed one ranch hand tending to the barn and stables before they set out.
Halle laughed. “No, that takes time and money.” Neither of which she would have yet since her schedule was full taking people on tours like this one and pouring the revenue into repairs. “My full-time ranch hand, Charlie, hasn’t had a raise in two years. He’s loyal but he could decide today to move on and I’d have no recourse. And frankly, I wouldn’t blame him. I hire other ranch hands as needed.”
“I hear you on feeling as though you’re never doing enough. It’s part of being in business for yourself. That’s what I’ve learned, anyhow. I give you credit, Halle. You’re remarkable. I inherited a solid business and grew it. You’re taking something with a lot of challenges and turning it around. I wish I had as much courage as you.” He meant the words and could feel his heart beat with each one uttered. Halle had a way of forcing him to dig deeper, to find the best way possible to let her know how incredible she was. He’d been under his own work stress lately, but it didn’t compare to Halle’s. Except that they shared indefatigable work ethics. His work was never done, and with his current situation the anxiety of an unforeseen buyout made it so much worse. Nothing he could tell Halle, nothing he’d want anyone in Shadow Creek to know about, no matter how much he trusted them. Not yet. They’d know soon enough if he decided to not invest in tech in the Austin area. Because if he lacked the funds, he wouldn’t invest or ask others to. Alastair might be a billionaire but to him his word was worth more than any commodity, cash included.
They pulled the horses up to a wide leg that offered a breathtaking view of the countryside below and in front of them. They sat in companionable silence as they watched the sun start its descent. Streaks of peach, apricot and purple hues soared over the Texas sky. Even Buttercup and Buster were still, as if showing reverence for nature’s spectacle.
“Let’s dismount and set up camp. We’re over there, near the grove of willows.” She nodded toward their night camp. Halle’s eyes reflected the fiery shades of the beginning sunset. It didn’t escape Alastair that if they’d met anywhere else in time, or on earth, they might be together tonight in the best of ways.
But Halle had made her boundaries clear. This was solely a business excursion. He understood and in fact admired her for her professionalism. Even if it meant losing out on an opportunity to explore the undeniable attraction that arced between them. How could he consider campsite extracurriculars with Halle when his entire livelihood could be at risk?
Chapter 3 (#ufa5afa86-4257-5471-a829-c4717a8cdf5d)
The second day and evening went as the first. They spent the morning and afternoon meandering through the Texas countryside and the evening in front of the campfire sipping the wine Halle had brought. The first night Alastair had used the single-person tent Halle gave him and stayed dry under the brief rain showers they’d endured, but the next night he’d been granted his wish and slept under the stars. Nothing but an armadillo crossed near his bedroll, for which he was grateful. He’d had a hard time falling asleep, knowing Halle was in her own tent. He heard her soft rustles in her sleeping bag as she turned, imagined how warm and soft she’d feel against his body. Did she have as hard a time as he did in not crossing the unseen line between them? The hired tour guide–client line? He admired Halle’s dedication to duty and obvious professionalism, but sincerely hoped she’d ease up and consider allowing them to fully enjoy each other’s company.
By the third morning, Alastair expected he’d wake up ready to finish the journey. Instead, as he looked at Halle packing and loading up their horses, he felt a twinge of regret.
“Where to today?”
“Does it matter?” She faced him as they stood in between the horses. “You’ve had your head in your phone all morning. Is there some international news I need to be aware of?”
“No, nothing earth-shattering. And that’s not completely true. I’ve checked in to see what I can do to help.” More like he’d wanted to check on her, make sure she was safe. Aw, hell, he’d wanted to check her out, look at her up close, see if her body, her smile, still made him hard. And then he’d distracted himself with work, so that he didn’t push her too far too soon. Even though they only had one more night and two days together. Even business, bad business—it appeared his stocks were being gobbled up again, and he had no idea by whom—wasn’t enough to take his thoughts off Halle.
Halle grunted. Even that was sexy. “Don’t ever play poker, Alastair.”
He didn’t answer her. He couldn’t. Because as she spoke, he watched her expression and her body language, and realized they’d become ingrained in his memory. It wasn’t just the close quarters or long days together. It was Halle.
No, it’s you and Halle. He’d never felt so in tune with another person this early in a relationship before. And they weren’t in a relationship—she considered herself his tour guide. Period. She’d made that clear more than once. And he hated it. He’d finally met a woman who made him come off the hamster wheel of his business and he wanted to enjoy her more than as his trail guide. Halle was one of a kind—a skilled horsewoman, intelligent business owner and a compassionate, loyal human being. He loved how she was so dedicated to her family, as small as it’d been, and how she’d given up everything she’d worked for to honor her father’s legacy. How she accepted his legacy as her own without blinking. This was the kind of woman a man could take as a life partner. As a best friend. As a lover.
Yet he was only a client to her.
But he’d cease being a client once they were back at the ranch house tomorrow evening. Would she ever consider making an exception for him and let him take her out for dinner?
He snorted as hard as either of the horses. Dinner was the least of things he wanted from Halle. He suspected she knew it, too.
“What can I do to help you this last full day and night, Halle? I feel like I’ve been a bit of a lug, going along for the ride without doing any of the muscle work.”
“That’s what you’ve paid for. It’s not a big deal to me. I’ve done this dozens upon dozens of times. You feel more relaxed than you did when you arrived, don’t you?” Her head was cocked to the side, allowing him to see her creamy skin under the brim of her white cowboy hat. The stylish, top brand hat appeared to be her one concession to her femininity and perhaps her former corporate life. It accentuated her chestnut hair and highlighted the whiskey hue of her eyes.
“As long as I’m not looking at my stock portfolio, yes.”
She laughed and swung up onto Buttercup. God, his fingers itched to grasp her waist and spin her around, their bodies touching—
“Let’s get a move on, cowboy. We’ve got a river to ford.” Her lighthearted prompt shattered what would have become a very naughty cowboy daydream. Usually he’d think about a previous woman he’d dated when he was getting randy. Or the next one he’d ask out on a date. Alastair was an expert at fine dining, precious wine and pleasing the women he took to bed.
Halle was different. She was the kind of woman who put an end to a man’s casual dating life. Because she would be the one he’d always compare anyone else to.
* * *
Halle had to ignore the lump in her throat. Being alone with any off-limits single man she was attracted to, day and night for four days, would have been difficult. Make it a male like Alastair Buchanan and it was downright excruciating to be so near yet unable to even pretend there could be any hanky-panky. And they still had one more night to get through. Of course her hormones were humming. At least that’s what she told herself. It wasn’t that he was special. A man she could sink her teeth into, have a real relationship with.
Besides, even if he wasn’t a client, he lived the better part of five thousand miles away. She hadn’t been able to maintain a romance with a man she’d been dating in Austin once she moved to Shadow Creek, only thirty miles apart.
“Not happening,” she muttered to herself and Buttercup as they wound through a field of dead sunflowers on a narrow clay path.
“What was that?” Alastair’s brogue was lovely, even when he showed flashes of the vigilant CEO he must be to run such a lucrative business.
“I said we’re getting closer to the fun part of the day.” The low rumble they’d had in front of them for the past mile or so had turned into a loud roar. The river crossing was going to be interesting, but nothing she couldn’t manage. She navigated the narrow trail, passed through a field and onto a rise with the river in sight, where she waited for Alastair to fall in next to her.
“That looks no wider than a creek. It’s shallow, I take it?”
“Not sure, and make no mistake, this is a river. Shadow Creek River. With all the rain, it might be higher than usual. One thing about flowing water in the Western US is that it’s very deceptive. I’ve waded in my bare feet through it when I was a kid, and ridden across it on several different horses. But each time it’s different. I’ve had to turn around and come back before, when it was too deep or the current too strong.”
“Our lochs, or lakes, as you say—” he put emphasis on the vowels in “lake” and “say,” making them rhyme “—are the same. They drop off with no warning to unfathomable depths.”
“Well, you won’t see Nessie here, but we have to take our time crossing.” She hoped to relax him with the Loch Ness Monster reference. Halle wondered how much of a challenge the crossing would be but didn’t see a need to alarm him about it.
“I’m game for whatever.” The statement was bold and she thought his profile was a little stiff with arrogance.
“I know you’re a good horseman, Alastair, but you have to trust my judgment about the river. It’s not like a still loch in Scotland.”
“And you know so much about lochs?” The sun caught the flash of his grin and her gut tightened. He was so damned handsome. Too much.
“Haven’t I told you yet? I spent my junior year abroad in Glasgow. I traveled all over Scotland and the UK.” It had felt like a second home and she’d always wanted to return. But then life after college had her deep into her career, and then her father’s death, and now her life’s work at Bluewood got in the way.
“I’d love for you to see Scotland now, as an adult, without the baggage of a student budget.” His insight stilled her. It sounded as if he had a normal upbringing, not one of privilege.
“You sound as if you backpacked across Europe on a budget, too.”
“I did, in a sense. My father was very strict with my spending until I graduated and became fully employed with the company. Sure, I knew I had a fallback if I needed it, but I kept my spending to what he gave me. It taught me how to budget and where to save money.” He laughed and she loved the rolling sound. Easy and strong, like a Highland brook. “It’s crazy, I know, coming from someone like me, but I do appreciate frugality. Easy to say when I’ve never had to do without anything.” She liked how he was self-deprecating when it came to money. Alastair was in touch with how regular people lived, even though he had a billionaire’s life and all the sparkly things to go with it.
“Someday I’ll see Scotland again, and a lot of the rest of the world. For now, running Bluewood is enough for me.” She allowed herself to share his glance for a heart-stopping moment before refocusing on the river. “At the moment I’d say we’ve got a tough crossing on our hands.”
“No worries, Halle. Your word is my command.”
“Good. As I said, it’s important that you rely on my commands as we cross. I need you to stay right alongside me as we approach the water and hopefully get across without issue. Let’s see how deep it is.” When there were younger children on the tour she liked to ham it up a bit here, emphasizing how the personality of the river could change on a dime. With Alastair the last thing she wanted to do was add any drama to their time together. She had to focus on keeping any hormonal chaos she had going on to herself.
The horses’ hooves were leaving prints in the clay bank of the river, the water lapping impatiently at their powerful legs. Halle took it all in, but not before checking out Alastair’s profile. Satisfaction unfurled in her rib cage, knowing he was moved by the scenery. In this fleeting moment she knew she’d done her job. The strong breeze, the white rapids where the water raced around the bend, the quieter area farther downstream that would be too deep to cross—all played their part to showcase the spectrum of the river’s strength. “We’re going to have to cross here, where it’s still shallow enough. See that part, where it looks like it’s not moving?” She waited for him to nod. “That’s most likely a deep ditch from the current. We want to steer clear of it. The horses know what to do but we need to stay steady and confident as we guide them.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His smile was almost a smirk, but not quite. Part of her wished he’d fall off his damned high perch, but a bigger part wouldn’t ever want to put Buster at risk of rolling over or breaking a leg.
She answered his grin with her own. “Ready?”
“By your side, yes.”
Damn it, he took her breath away. She couldn’t blame it on the Scottish accent any longer. She had a major crush on her sexy billionaire cowboy. It was going to remain a secret crush.
“Let’s do it. And please put your phone away, Alastair. You don’t want to become another tourist who loses their device because of a lack of judgment.”
“Okay, you’re the river crossing expert but I’m the tech expert. My phone is in a LifeProof case and will survive any submersion in water. It also floats. And it’s quite secure in the saddle, where it’ll stay while we get our horses across safely.” He pointed at the phone nestled in the holder he’d brought with him. The contraption fit perfectly around his saddle horn, and while she admired its convenience she preferred to keep her phone in her wraparound thigh pocket when riding. Her mobile was for emergencies only out here on the trail.
Alastair didn’t move.
“Good to hear. We don’t need any distractions. Paying attention is key.” She wasn’t in the mood to fish him out of the river if he went in.
“I’ve got this, Halle. Trust me.” He patted Buster’s neck as he spoke, his focus clearly on his mount and not the phone he’d tucked back into its holder.
“Whatever. I warned you.” She urged Buttercup into the river and waited for Alastair to do the same with Buster. Just as he promised, Alastair took Buster into the river without hesitation. He stayed with her, following every suggestion to maneuver Buster as she gave them. Until a loud ding sounded over the gushing water. To her horror, Alastair looked at the phone. Her gut twisted, cutting off her air.
“Pay attention. Your horse needs you.” Her voice sounded weak over the roar of the river and the gusty wind that blew her hair from its ponytail.
“I just need a minute, Halle.” Alastair’s face was grim, his mouth pulled down. He’d pulled the phone out and scrolled through some message or other. After he finished whatever he was reading he shot her a huge grin and placed the phone back in its makeshift saddle holder. “Just teasing you, Halle. I wouldn’t be so stupid as to risk Bust—whoa!”
Buster’s manners, decent until now, fled as a large, fallen tree that had been swept into the river came into view not more than one hundred yards away. It appeared to be aimed straight at them. The large horse bucked and bolted across the river, as if reaching the other shore in record time meant life or death.
Alastair, unfortunately, didn’t make it to the bank with Buster. As soon as Buster bolted, Alastair flew through the air and landed with a large splash in the middle of the river. When he disappeared under the water Halle panicked. If he hit his head and was unconscious, he’d drown in minutes. She slid off Buttercup and slapped her rump. “Go, girl!”
She waded to where she’d watched Alastair’s body submerge. There was no sign of him. She stood on solid ground, able to withstand the force of the river but unable to see one flash of his clothing. Nothing but the froth of the water from the sudden uptick in current. And then his head popped up, his arms working around him in the water. Did he think he could outswim a swollen Texas river?
“Alastair!” He turned toward her and grinned. They were moments from a cold death and he was grinning like a fool. Or someone whose brain was operating in a fog. Panic rose as she realized he might already be hypothermic.
Her boots filled with water and her soles slipped on the rocky river bottom as she reached for Alastair, her fingers desperate to reach his shirt or jeans and haul him up. Instead the current knocked her against him, her entire body plastered against his in the freezing water.
Blue eyes with no evidence of the danger they were in sparkled at her. “Now th-th-this is what I c-c-call a T-Texas adventure!”
“Look at me, Alastair. Can you walk?”
“Of course.” Alastair stood up. Dripping wet, he started to shiver. Violently. “D-d-don’t b-b-be m-m-mad at m-m-me.” In spite of his body’s immediate reaction to the frigid water, his eyes were alight with genuine contrition. If she weren’t so afraid for his life, she’d find the situation comic.
“We need to get to the other side. Now!” At which point she was going to strip the wet clothes off of him, wrap him in a first aid space blanket, start a warm campfire and then kill him for his ignorance.
“D-d-don’t w-w-worry.” He leaned heavily against her and she braced her boots in the silty bottom of the river. They made their way, one step at a time. As they neared the bank where Buster and Buttercup patiently waited, the river stilled. “L-l-look, it-t-t’s all b-b-better.”
“Shut up, Alastair.”
* * *
Halle Ford had saved his life. Alastair prided himself on his inner strength, the core of his being that had gotten him through the bullying he’d endured as a grade schooler. His entire school career, actually, until he’d grown taller and his shoulders wider than those of his mean classmates. The same financial status that had blessed him with such a protected life in many ways had been his enemy then, as jealous classmates went after him with a vengeance. He’d never told his parents; he’d used his brains to outwit his adversaries and taken the punches he’d had to.
Until the school psychologist had called him in and insisted he confess to the beatings, the terrorizing episodes of being dragged out of bed in the wee hours and hung by his ankles outside of his dormitory window. His enemies had been expelled and he’d faced another uphill battle, working with the counselor to undo the years of abuse and anxiety.
He’d thought he’d survive anything after that. Scaled mountains, in fact. Yet a river in Texas had almost done him in. Without Halle, he’d never have waded out of that cold water.
“You’re okay, Alastair.” She placed her hand on his shoulder for a brief moment as she rubbed his legs. The pins and needles sensation hurt like hell, but somewhere in the icy sludge of his brain he recognized she was preventing hypothermia.
“Th-th-thanks.” The word barely made it out around his chattering teeth.
“Don’t talk. Save your energy to heat back up.” Her massage continued, and he knew that when he felt himself again he’d regret that he’d been naked under the space blanket and unable to act on the fantasies he’d had of Halle for the past couple of days.
“Here are some dry socks.” She expertly unrolled heavy hiking socks onto his feet. Wool had never felt so good against his skin. Almost as good as her warm hands, hands that had moved on to his thighs.
“I’m aiming at your larger muscle groups to get your circulation going and warm you up quicker.” Her eyes were warm chocolate as she met his gaze. The smile in them reached her lips and she winked. “Don’t worry, Alastair. You’re not the first person to underestimate that river, and you won’t be the last. We’ll have you feeling yourself in no time.”
He wondered if she knew that when he was feeling himself again it could be awkward, as he had no doubt his erection would make a prominent teepee in the aluminum fabric blanket.
Problem was, as much as wanted to make love to this woman who was rubbing him back to life, he didn’t want her to think it was all about the sex. There was something stronger, deeper here. The kind of connection that could go the distance.
Alastair let out a groan as pain shot up his leg and into his groin. He’d worry about his dick after he got all of his feeling back.
* * *
“Here, drink this.” Halle handed Alastair a tin mug of hot tea. “Take little sips.”
“L-l-l-like I c-c-c-can m-m-m-manage more.” He was still visibly shaking, his body in all-out warm-up mode.
“If you hadn’t refused to strip down and get wrapped in the blanket for so long, you wouldn’t be so miserable now.” She’d pulled him out of the water almost an hour ago. He’d all but made her wrestle him to get him to take the wet clothes off and get in the blanket. She knew he was hurting when he made no quips about her seeing him naked or about her getting undressed with him. It had been awkward for a millisecond when her skin came into contact with his, but since his was alarmingly cold, she’d switched into first aid mode. They’d lain together on top of the bedrolls, and she’d wished she could will Alastair’s body back to normal temperature.
“I can’t believe it. You could have died out there.” She allowed the heat of her tea to warm her, ignoring the urge to return to the cocoon of heat she and Alastair had enjoyed until she sensed he was out of danger. More like his erection had clued her in. It would have been too easy to make a joke about it, to ease his obvious discomfort. But she didn’t know him well enough yet. At least not chronologically. Her soul felt as though she’d known him her whole life.
“I’m better.” His eyes were half-hooded, his expression predatory. Pretty fast recovery for a man she’d thought was going to freeze to death a half hour earlier.
As he sat and sipped his tea, she set up camp. Her tent popped up and she cast a look at Alastair, next to the fire. The sun was a distant memory and the navy sky began to sparkle with countless stars. Hypothermia was a real risk. His shivering was a good sign, but he’d been in those wet clothes for too long. She’d gotten out of their embrace and put on sweatpants and socks while he’d procrastinated at putting on dry clothing.
“I think you’d better let me help you.” She sat next to him and started to rub his arms through the crinkly metallic blanket. As she worked over him, praying his blood would start warming up and that he’d be more of the Alastair she’d spent the last three days with, a terrifying thought occurred to her.
You care about him.
Impossible. She barely knew the man. And while their physical chemistry had been often palpable over their trail ride, it wasn’t enough to ensure a promise of deeper feelings. Was it?
“Thanks. That feels good.” His teeth weren’t chattering anymore; a very good sign.
“Are you getting warmer?”
“A bit, but I’m afraid you’re right. I may have waited too long to get naked.” His expression was unreadable as she stood between the fire and him, massaging his legs. Very muscular legs that no longer felt clammy. Before her hands betrayed her and moved up under the blanket to the tops of his legs, or more accurately, between them, Halle leaned back on her heels, her hands on her thighs.
“Now’s not the time to flirt, Alastair. You could have died in the river. And all for what? Your stupid cell phone?”
“While it’s my brain trust, most of the time, I wasn’t as worried about it as I let you think. I was trying to push your buttons. It was poor flirting style on my part.” His voice had lowered, returning to its usual pitch. Halle grasped his left foot and rubbed briskly at it, then massaged his arch, his toes. He groaned with relief once the initial stiffness melted away.
“It wasn’t the flirting that was off, it was your timing.” She didn’t want to reveal too much, but after seeing him so close to hypothermia it seemed silly to play coy. “Are your muscles cramping up at all?” She was on her knees, looking up at him. If the blanket moved one inch she was going to be treated to a lot more of Alastair than she’d bargained for. She’d seen his backside as she’d stripped him, had felt his erection as he’d warmed up, but had successfully kept her gaze off any private parts. The parts that she’d see if he wore a kilt.
The vision of Alastair in a kilt was a bad idea. Now all she wanted was to touch him, everywhere. More like taste him everywhere.
“Halle.” His hands were on her wrists and he pulled her off balance, forcing her up against him. They were chest to chest, the blanket the only barrier to his bare skin. Her shirt and sweatpants felt too bulky, in the way.
“You’re feeling better, I take it.” Her voice was breathy, and she didn’t care about his risk of hypothermia any longer. Not with his eyes sparking in the firelight, her insides quaking not with cold but insane desire. Shock. She had to be going into shock over the ordeal. It wasn’t every day she came close to losing a client.
“Warm me up, Halle.” His words tugged at her resolve and she swallowed, refusing to make any move.
“No. Listen, Alastair—you, me, we’re in shock. That was a close call out there. I know you think you feel better, but believe me, you need a good night’s rest and a chance to recover from your body’s temperature drop.”
“You’ll warm me up better than anything. As a matter of fact, that’s the best way to make sure I stay warm. You get naked again, and we lie next to one another. Skin on skin.”
Her desire was at a fever pitch but she was reminded of her place. And the kind of business she did not operate. She walked a few steps away and stirred the soup she’d heated over the fire. Her hands were shaking with want. Want for him.
“Drink some more of the hot tea, Alastair. It’ll raise your internal temperature.” Her voice was as shaky as her insides. Damn it. There was no way she was going to touch him, no way she could justify—
His lips touched her throat, his blanket-wrapped front up against her back as she stirred.
“Alastair, I—”
“It’s okay to have needs other than running Bluewood, Halle.” Why couldn’t he sound like he was sick, or still chilled, or unable to think straight? Why did he have to sound so sane, so steady, so sure of what would be best for her?
* * *
Alastair knew he was coming off a bit too heavy-handed, especially for a man who’d been totally at Halle’s mercy only an hour earlier. He took a step backward, gave Halle room as he stepped to her side, in front of the small fire.
“I’m sorry—that was presumptive. I wish I could blame it on the cold water but I have a bad habit of telling others what’s best for them.”
Halle stirred the dirt with a stick she’d picked up off the ground. “I get that. When you have to rely on your instincts for so long, it’s easy to think your way is the right way.”
“I don’t know you well, Halle, not as well as I’d like to. But is it fair to say that you’ve done little, probably nothing, for yourself since your father died?”
Her lids lifted and revealed the depths of pain she’d walked through. “At first I didn’t want to do anything. I think I stayed in pajamas for the first two days after the funeral. But then, then I knew I owed him more. Daddy didn’t raise me to be a slacker, and this land was everything to him.”
“You need a break. We all do. Sometimes when I’m travelling for weeks on end I plan a quick trip to a resort or island to escape. Believe it or not, I go completely off the grid from time to time.”
That got a grin out of her. And a beautiful grin it was. He loved how her entire expression lit up like the Highlands did when the heather bloomed.
“That might have been a good decision today.”
“Although, if I had, you may have never had the privilege of seeing my bum.”
“Never, Alastair?”
Halle wasn’t flirting or teasing. The heat in her eyes wasn’t a reflection of the fire, either. She was a woman boldly expressing her want, and Alastair had never been more turned on.
* * *
Halle turned toward him and didn’t know who moved first, but the tiny space between them disappeared and Alastair’s lips were on hers. He stamped her mouth with his, and her senses were on overload with his musk and the coolness of his tongue. The pent-up sexual attraction they’d fought against each and every hour on the trail had won. Halle surrendered to her desire and the relief was as sharp as her sexual response to him. When his tongue licked around her lips and insisted entry, she opened her mouth fully and took him in. He tasted as good as she’d imagined. Tea, honey and Alastair. Tea she’d given him to warm up. She pushed against his chest, breaking their contact, their gasps loud and harsh in the still Texas night.
“You could have died. Are you up for this?” They both laughed at her question. His erection, which he ground against her pulsating center, answered it.
“Outside or in your tent?” He growled the words as he sucked gently at the skin on her throat, his hands moving up and under her shirt, on her waist, cupping her breasts through her sports bra. When he tweaked her nipples Halle groaned.
“Tent. You’re still at risk from the cold.”
They half walked, half stumbled into her tent. Alastair was definitely feeling better as he pressed her shoulders onto the sleeping bag and rose above her. “I want to make love to you in so many ways, Halle. But later. This time I don’t want to wait or draw it out. I need you now. Pure and simple.”
“Yes.” Amazing she could force the word out, as turned on as she was.
“Condoms?” His Scottish accent made the request seem as gentlemanly as it was.
“In the zipper bag, here—” She reached to the small pouch in the tiny tent where she kept first aid items and condoms. She’d had clients request them, clients she’d envied who’d decided to take her trip as a honeymoon or lovers’ vacation. But she’d put them there as an afterthought, after she’d made him tea at the house. Somewhere inside of her she’d hoped this might happen. Alastair and her, together in the most basic way.
Alastair grasped the wrapper as soon as she plucked the small packet from the bag. “You’re moving awfully well for a man who was just on the brink of hypothermia.” She tried to think, tried to focus but the way he so quickly donned the protection and then lifted her head to deeply kiss her again allowed her to only think of the incredible sensations his touch brought.
“Halle.” He said her name as if she were the Holy Grail. Dispensing with any illusion of a romantic buildup, Alastair entered her in one powerful thrust and Halle met him, eager to match him, their need mutual. As they moved together it occurred to her that it had never been this natural, this raw, this perfect the first time with any other man. Not just the first time—any time with another man.
Then the delicious sensations that pushed her over the edge of her most satisfying climax ever blew any vestige of rational thought out of her brain. Alastair’s matching release, punctuated by his deep shout, was all she needed.
Chapter 4 (#ufa5afa86-4257-5471-a829-c4717a8cdf5d)
Three months later
“Thanks for taking them in, Charlie.” Halle handed off the leather lead shanks to her ranch hand, hoping he didn’t notice her excessive sweat. She had to make it back to the house before she threw up in front of him.
“No problem, Boss.” Charlie walked toward the stables with Elvis and Buttercup. She’d already worked Buster and two other geldings. It lifted her mood to see how well cared for her mounts were. As much as Bluewood was in the red, she’d managed to squeeze out enough to keep the horses healthy.
Unlike the majority of her cattle, which she’d had to sell off to keep things running. That had hurt, but not as much as she knew the next few minutes would. Going into the house, she made straight for the bathroom as her loyal herding dogs followed her. She looked at the stick she’d peed on before her anxiety got any worse.
The plus sign stared accusingly at her. Her weight loss from the constant worry over Bluewood’s survival hadn’t left her body fat too low to warrant missing menstrual cycles. That had been her excuse the first month she’d skipped her period.
Her attempts to deny a second month without a period, however, were met with her swollen, tender breasts and her constant exhaustion. The last few days the nausea had caught up to her. So she’d done what millions of women did every year. Last night she’d purchased a home pregnancy test at the Shadow Creek drugstore. She’d left it in the bathroom overnight, in case her cycle started by morning. She’d taken the test first thing upon waking.
Somehow, the protection she and Alastair had used had failed. She was single, near bankruptcy and pregnant. No time to process it all right now, though, as her stomach did what it was becoming too good at doing.
Halle threw up.
It was time to tell the father, but she felt horrible even thinking about calling Alastair. She’d ignored his persistent attempts to contact her the first few weeks after he’d left Texas. It was a nonstarter, any kind of relationship with the sexy billionaire. Halle was a native of Shadow Creek, Texas—fun for a diversion or maybe even some real dating. Until Alastair realized his jet-set lifestyle wasn’t enough to get her out of Texas. And Halle was as dedicated as ever to Bluewood. It’d have to be as a single mom now, was all.
Wrapping a towel she’d soaked in cold water around her neck, she went to find her phone.
* * *
Alastair Buchanan frowned at his cell phone. Halle Ford had called three times in the past two days, but never left a message. Desire startled him as it slammed into his gut and made a direct line to his crotch. Halle.
It’d been such an incredible time with her in the Texas Hill Country. The sex, yes, but so much more. Her. The way she listened. He’d really thought more might come of it. He’d been ready to convince her more should come of it, that with his resources that included a private jet they’d make the miles and hours between them manageable.
But she’d never taken any of his calls, and while he was persistent, he wasn’t a stalker.
After never hearing from her for three months, the three attempts so close together seemed urgent. And they painfully reminded him of the countless messages he’d left her in the first few weeks after their time together.
Maybe she’d reconsidered dropping him like a hot jacket potato. When they’d hooked up he didn’t imagine she’d want more than their brief liaison. Not that Halle wasn’t his type, or the most beautiful woman he’d ever been with. He wasn’t in a place to commit to any woman. Long-distance relationships could work, but so many thousands of miles apart made for a lot more effort on both their parts. And mostly on his company jet’s dime. The deeper, more pressing reason to stay away from any kind of relationship was that Clyde Whiskey was in peril.
He tried to refocus on his computer screen, to put Halle out of his mind. It was probably good that they lived so far apart, and if he went back to Texas it would only be to set up his investment business. Short-term. He wondered if she’d be open to seeing him when he went back, if he did. For old times’ sake. They’d been exceptionally compatible, once they’d given in to their attraction.
Halle’s incredibly sensual body and throaty moans had underscored the once-in-a-lifetime night they’d shared on the banks of Shadow Creek River, at Halle’s ranch outside of Austin, Texas. It was odd, in a way, that he’d found his thoughts drifting to the Texas land whenever the pressure of work had gotten to him these last months. And at night, when his head hit the pillow, he felt as if he missed Halle lying next to him. Which was absolutely ridiculous. He’d known her, really known her, one night. They’d spent a total of three nights and four days together. How was it possible that she’d made such an impression on him?
“Alastair, Jeremy Kincaid’s on line one.” His receptionist’s voice buzzed in his wireless earbud. Alastair tapped the accept button on his phone.
“Jeremy, just the man I need to hear from.”
“Hey, Alastair. Returning your call. What’s the holdup on the tech investment?”
His friend’s words socked him in the gut. Like him, Jeremy was never one for small talk. He didn’t want to admit what was happening with Clyde Whiskey but he wouldn’t lie to Jeremy, either. “I’m having a major problem. Someone—an unknown—is trying to gobble up shares of Clyde Whiskey.”
“Hostile takeover?”
“More like apocalyptic takeover.” Alastair let out a growl of frustration. “It’s been insane since I got back from visiting you and Adeline.” And Halle. “It’s all I can do to shore up the business. I keep putting out fires that pop up elsewhere.”
“I’ve been there, man, more than once. You’ll get through this, and trust me, no one is going to take Clyde Whiskey from you. Tell me what I can do to help.”
“Nothing, not yet. I have a team on it. I hope to have answers soon. The one weird thing is that it all started while I was in Texas.” As if someone hadn’t liked the thought of him investing in tech in the area.
“You wouldn’t be the first person to have bad luck while in Shadow Creek.”
“If you’re referring to the havoc caused by that woman Livia Colton, she’s dead. She’d have no reason to come after me if she were alive.”
“Sounds like you and Halle talked about more than indigenous history of Texas out on the trail.”
Alastair remained silent. He wasn’t going to share what had happened on the trail with Halle. It was too personal.
“I’m here if you need me, Alastair. So are your investment opportunities in Austin. And let me put it out there for you—our house in Shadow Creek is always open to you. Maybe time away from your home turf would help. Clear the mind.”
“Thanks, Jeremy.” As he disconnected he couldn’t ignore the tug in his gut at the mention of Shadow Creek. If he were to stay with anyone, he’d want to be with Halle. He grinned at the realization that he’d prefer the cozy ranch house at Bluewood over Jeremy’s spectacular contemporary mansion. In a rare moment of deep reflection he admitted that he hadn’t been himself, hadn’t felt grounded in Glasgow since he’d departed Austin. When he’d left Halle Ford and his adventure on Bluewood Ranch behind.
You haven’t left it behind.
Maybe it was time to return some calls.
* * *
Halle held her phone over her head as she lay on her back on the living room sofa. It was ringing, buzzing, breaking into the quiet zone she’d tried to establish for herself. Lying flat was the only thing that kept her from getting sick. The phone buzzed again and she peered from beneath the cold cloth she had on her forehead.
Alastair Buchanan. A jolt of awareness forced her into a seated position.
Dang. Hell. Crap.
“Halle here.”
“Is it a Texas custom to wait three months to return a call from a paramour?” Alastair’s rich Scottish brogue made tingles shoot straight to her center, as if they’d made love last night and not fourteen weeks ago. As if they were more than a one-night stand.
Yeah. As if.
“Halle?”
“I—I’m here. And any rudeness is on me. Just, just my bad manners. I’m sorry I didn’t reply sooner. Thanks for returning my call.” Nausea rolled over her and she groaned as she lay back down, groping for the lost cold cloth.
“Are you all right, Halle? Have I caught you at a bad time—coming out of the shower, perhaps?” God bless the man, he was flirting. She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it. His playful tone was going to flatten out pronto. As soon as he found out why she’d called.
“Look, Alastair, this isn’t a fun call. I mean, not a social call—”
“It’s perfectly fine to admit you missed me. I was just thinking about you, remembering how your breasts feel in my hands.” Her body reacted so quickly she couldn’t keep up with it, from her nipples puckering to the tingles of want that ran down her midsection to between her legs.
“I’m pregnant. It’s yours. No doubt.”
Palpable silence blew the sexual tension into sharp shards of shock. Not one iota of static sounded to break the heavy quiet. There wasn’t much that could take away the physical pull Alastair had on her, but telling the billionaire bachelor that his fun had resulted in a lifetime commitment did. Halle sucked in a breath, hoping she didn’t puke while he was on the line.
“Well.” A whole lifetime in his one-word reply. Yeah, no more sexy talk.
“I’m sorry to tell you on the phone, but a trip to Glasgow isn’t practical for me at the moment.” Did he even know how difficult it could be for the average person to travel? Without a private jet at her disposal, not to mention the unlimited funds a billionaire like Alastair had.

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