Fake Fiance, Real Revenge: A Three River Ranch Novel (Entangled Bliss) Page 7

  “What’s the matter, Sabrina?” Mitch’s expression was a perfect mix of innocence, seduction, and triumph.

  “Nothing!” She grabbed his hand and held it against her neck. “Nothing at all. Feel me up all you like. Make it look real. But remember, after this, you’ll be doing it in public and I don’t want to get arrested.”

  But instead of pulling away, he threaded his fingers through her hair. All the words she might have used disappeared when he cupped the nape of her head and pulled her toward him. His eyes were mysterious, fathomless, magnetic, and she was powerless against them.

  “We should probably practice our kissing, don’t you think?” he said, just before he touched his lips to hers.

  It was a chaste kiss, barely a brush, but she felt the detonation down to her toes. She hoped he didn’t notice. Maybe she should kiss him, take back control.

  “What do you know?” he said with a low chuckle. “I guess it’s like riding a bike.”

  He’d kept his face next to hers, close enough that she could see tiny crinkles bracketing his eyes, lines that hadn’t been there ten years ago. And, was he trembling? He was.

  She blinked and pulled away, breaking the spell. What had she gotten herself into? Why hadn’t it occurred to her that there would be some serious risks involved in this revenge plan of hers?

  “Good, g-great,” she stammered. “We can still kiss. That’ll help convince people.”

  She collected their still-full mugs and rinsed them in the sink. “If you’re in love with me, I guess you should know what I’ve been up to for the past decade.”

  “Let me give it a try,” he said, surprising her. “You got your nursing degree, then nurse practitioner, then midwife. Your main clinic is in Chinook, by the hospital. But you’ve got a satellite, or whatever you call it, in Lutherton. You live alone. Never married. How am I doing?”

  She was astounded. He’d kept tabs on her? She didn’t know whether to feel flattered or violated. She went with violated.

  “So you’ve been stalking me, have you? Should I be worried?”

  “Nah,” he said easily. “I take it you haven’t done the same.”

  Maybe she had kept track of a few broad strokes, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “As you pointed out,” she said, “I’ve been very busy. But I’ve got a minute left. Surely it won’t take more than that.”

  The light in his eye dimmed and he looked away. Suddenly Sabrina flashed back to the insecure boy who never felt he measured up.

  “I did this and that. No school, obviously. It took me a while to figure out what I wanted. I worked construction during the boom, discovered I have a knack for project management. Became a contractor. Worked up and down the coast, settled in LA for a year or two, where I got my real estate license. Can you believe it? Me, in a classroom again.”

  “Then what?” He’d never given himself enough credit back then. He was a classic example of a kid who’d fallen through the cracks, an unsupportive home life, too much physical energy to sit, combined with unrecognized dyslexia and all the frustration and anger and shame that went with it. And oh, how he hated pity.

  “I sold my business just before the economy tanked, moved to Seattle, and started snapping up cheap real estate. Made out like a bandit. That’s when I got into development. Teamed up with a buddy, Jon Ellis. Granger-Ellis is now an industry leader in residential and corporate development projects.”

  He was trying to sound matter-of-fact, but underneath it, Sabrina knew he was still looking for approval. Or something like it.

  “Local boy makes good?” Sabrina looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Are you saying you’re rich?”

  “You could say.” He shrugged. “But everything’s relative. Della could buy and sell me ten times over. I never wasted time or money when I couldn’t afford it so yeah, I’ve got a little nest egg. But a commercial recreation project would fill out my portfolio, take me to the big leagues. So that’s the resume items. Personal items: I’ve had one serious relationship—she’s the one who convinced me to get my real estate ticket—but it didn’t last. No kids. You?”

  “Not without a husband.” Sabrina looked away. “Call me old-fashioned.”

  “You still want to, though, don’t you? Get married, I mean. For real.”

  “Of course I do, Mitch.” She laughed, but it took effort. “You didn’t break my heart permanently.”

  “Good to hear.” Perhaps it was her imagination, but the assertion rang false, like the chime of a cracked bell.

  “You know this is going to get complicated, right? People are going to believe this is real.” She lifted her eyes to his and felt a bolt of warmth pass between them. “Two ambitious, driven people, with a shared history. It’ll be a sort of happy-ending story to them. It’s going to be tough to explain when it ends. Again.”

  Another shadow darkened Mitch’s expression. “It’s none of their business.”

  “Are you keeping something from me? Mitch?”

  He sighed. “Bliss already caught me out. She’s relentless, that woman. She’s going to keep it to herself but she said the same thing. Not fair to the community, feelings hurt everywhere, breach of trust, that sort of thing.”

  “She’s got a point.”

  “But what’s it to them, anyway?”

  His cavalier attitude suddenly struck a nerve. “Says the man who’ll disappear when it’s over. I, on the other hand, have to live here. Listen, I really need to go and we’ve settled almost nothing. So, how did we reconnect?”

  Mitch moved to the door. “Well, we could say we hooked up again when I was back, last winter.”

  “Fine. Makes me feel like a bit of a slut. You were barely here long enough for your engine to cool off, but okay. Let’s start with that.”

  “You’re no slut. Everyone knows that.” He looked at her lips. “After that we kept in touch. You came out to visit me in Seattle. You couldn’t resist me, of course.”

  “Don’t forget the stalking. You saw me in the winter and all the feelings you thought you’d forgotten came rushing back in and you knew you had to have me.”

  “Or,” he responded, “you’d been waiting here, all these years, for me to come back. No one else came close, naturally, because I am the love of your life.”

  Sabrina grabbed her purse and herded him toward the door. “You traveled up and down the West Coast looking for someone who could make you forget me, but it didn’t work. Finally, after ten years, you gave up.” She nodded at the door. “Out.”

  “Fine. I never forgot you. Let’s go with that.” Unexpectedly, he laughed. “You stayed. I left. Neither of us found anyone else to compare. So here we are.”

  He put his arm over her shoulders as she locked the door. She tensed, then relaxed into the affectionate, undemanding touch. “Okay. But I can let people know that I’ve been mad at you for leaving, right?”

  “Be as mad as you want, honey. As long as they still know that you can’t keep your hands off me and every moment of every day you fantasize about ripping my clothes off and—”

  “Easy now, cowboy. You know what they say,” she said, smiling up at him. “The best lies are wrapped in truth. I’ll make sure everyone knows that you made the worst mistake of your life and that it’s just through the goodness of my heart that I’m letting you back in.”

  “You’re very generous,” he murmured.

  “I am, aren’t I?” His lips were way too close but somehow her feet didn’t carry her away. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her face.

  “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

  “Oh, you most certainly do not.” She moved closer. Anyone could see them now again, standing outside next to her car. She was just holding up her end of the deal. “So here’s how we’re going to play it.”

  Her hand was on his chest now. She lifted up onto her tiptoes and leaned toward his ear. Her lips brushed ever so slightly against his rough jawline. “I’m going to do
this sort of thing a lot, in public, when we’re sure people can see us, okay? And I’m going to remind you every time that I am doing you a huge favor. That I am mad at you. And that you owe me.” She dropped another butterfly-soft kiss onto his cheek, then stepped back and watched as his brain worked to catch up to his body.

  “Wait.” He swallowed, an audible click sounding in his throat. “You’re going to make out with me, while whispering horrible nothings into my ear?”

  “It’ll help me stay in character, I think.” She winked at him, then turned on her heel. “I gotta be me, after all. See ya after work, hon. And don’t forget to buy a ring!”

  …

  He forgot to buy a ring, of course. He didn’t think of it until the next day, when Sabrina swung a booted foot onto the bottom rail of the fence. Inside the corral, Herb and Carson were preparing the horses for a ride. Paris moved among the animals, stroking noses and patting necks.

  “Hey cowboy.” She bumped her hip against him. “How’s it hanging?”

  Mitch glanced at her, noting the dark circles beneath her eyes. “You’re awfully chipper for someone who looks like she didn’t sleep a wink all night.”

  “I helped a beautiful, fat, healthy baby boy into the world,” she said with a grin. “I’m free as a bird now, I’m going riding today, plus I get a diamond ring! Of course I’m chipper!”

  Crap. The ring!

  He looked away, focusing on the men gathering tack.

  “Don’t tell me.” Her voice grew frosty.

  “I’ll get one, I promise.” He was relieved, for once, to see Della walking toward them, too far away to hear. “Can we talk about this later?”

  Sabrina’s eyes narrowed. “Bet on it.”

  As they joined the rest of the group inside the corral, Mitch caught Sabrina’s hand. She stiffened at first, but as he laced his fingers through hers, stroking softly, he felt an answering pressure.

  She leaned toward him and whispered, “Don’t worry, cowboy, I’ll play along.” Then she pulled her hand away and slid it around him instead, tucking her fingers into the waistband of his jeans. “Prepare yourself. You just earned some serious game.”

  Her body pressed against his, her warm touch exploring the sensitive flesh of his belly, the scent of her breath making him forget where he was or what he was doing. In the space of a second she’d caught, flipped, and tied him, leaving him breathless and mute. If they weren’t in broad daylight…with people around…

  “Okay ladies, we’re going to take it easy our first time out.” Herb swung a lead rope from his hand, lightly slapping it against his leg.

  Thank goodness for Herb!

  Mitch grabbed Sabrina’s hand again and this time, he held it tightly.

  “Ticklish, huh?” she said under her breath.

  “Whoo-ee,” Della said. “Look at the pretty cowboy.”

  “Which one?” Carson asked drily.

  “Take your pick, mustang man,” she said, eyeing them all, Herb, Mitch and Carson equally. “Big Sky Country, nothing. It’s more like big—”

  “Carson.” Herb walked past Della, pursing his lips at the horses watching him curiously. “I thought we’d put Ms. Fontaine on Samson. What do you think? And how about the palomino gelding for Miss Paris?”

  Mitch focused on the pairing of mount to rider, desperate to get blood moving northward again. Herb’s choices, he knew, were based on deep knowledge of his horses, a knowledge that he used to have himself. Suddenly he felt as if he’d been thrown back in time, dropped into a whole different life, but one that fit like the faded jeans and old boots he used to wear like a uniform.

  “You just make sure that I get a sturdy beast, you hear?” Della looked unsure of herself for the first time since Mitch had known her. “I’m not a twig of a schoolgirl anymore.”

  No freaking kidding.

  “Don’t you worry, ma’am,” Herb said. He reached up and clipped the lead rope to the halter of an enormous dappled creature with the bell-bottomed fetlocks of a draft horse. “Samson here won’t even know you’re up there. He’s a giant, but a perfect gentleman.”

  Della’s eyes widened. “I’m supposed to wrap my legs around that? I’ve gone through four husbands, each one bigger than the last. But Samson here might just split me like a wishbone.”

  Paris laughed, then covered her mouth with her hands.

  “We’re not that kind of ranch, ma’am,” Herb said, straight-faced, without missing a beat. “You want the cowboy experience. This is how you’re going to get it.”

  “I’ll be lucky if I can walk tomorrow.” She paused for a moment, then shrugged prosaically. “I haven’t said that for a long time.”

  She walked up to the big horse and stuck out her palm, holding a sugar cube. He puckered whiskery gray lips over her skin, blowing gently until he picked up the treat “Okay, Samson, it’s just you and me. Let’s be gentle on each other, shall we?”

  “Is that one for me?” Paris asked, hopefully. The graceful palomino gelding was the perfect equine match for the girl. Mitch hoped that he was as calm as he appeared, although Paris exhibited none of Della’s nervousness.

  “You’re an experienced rider, you said, right?” Carson asked, handing the brush to Paris. She went up to the horse without hesitation and began grooming his sleek back.

  “I was,” she said. She leaned into the brushstrokes, and Mitch saw that here, in this environment, away from the brittleness of corporate society, she was a different person. “It’s been a while, though. I’ve got horses in Texas, but we haven’t been out there in a long time.”

  Probably since her father died, thought Mitch.

  “He’s a beauty,” he said. He let go of Sabrina’s hand and went to Paris. Poor kid. Della didn’t seem overly inclined to help the girl work through her grief.

  “This palomino will be fine for you, I think,” said Carson. “He’s reliable, sure-footed, but he does like to run. Figure you can handle that?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Mitch looked at Sabrina. She had her back to the fence, braced on her elbows, one boot-heel propped on the bottom rail. She had a white cowboy hat on top of a thick braid that trailed over her shoulder. She looked utterly delectable.

  “You want Monty as usual, Sabrina?” Herb asked.

  Sabrina straightened up. “Of course. But I can get him myself, if you’re ready. He and I are old friends.”

  The horses whickered and whuffled at her in welcome. She reached the tall chestnut at the water trough and put her hand against his neck. He raspberried her cheek and she laughed.

  “He wants his carrots,” she called. “Mitch, honey, I forgot them in my jacket pocket. Can you toss me the Baggie?”

  He fished around in the denim coat she’d slung on the hay bale and walked out to where she was getting molested by the hungry horse.

  “You’re laying it on a bit thick with the honeys, aren’t you?” he whispered.

  She gave him an arch look. “You want people to believe us or not? If I were in love with a man, I’d be calling him all sorts of sweet names. And maybe a few not-so-sweet names. But just in private.”

  His mind went blank. Words disappeared. He couldn’t take his eyes off the sweet line of her body, following her movements as she flattened her palm to let Monty nibble up a handful of carrots. Those soft, smooth curves, paired with that wicked, teasing mouth.

  “There’s my handsome fellow, my big, gorgeous boy,” she murmured. Then she gave Mitch a mischievous glance. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good ride. I hope I remember how to do it.”

  The sparkle in her eye made his mouth go dry. “It comes back, I hear,” he managed.

  “I’m with Della. I’ll be lucky if I can walk afterward.”

  “That happens.” Okay, good, he could talk again. “And yeah, you’ll be lucky if you can move at all. It’s best to get back up and do it again, soon after.”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “What if my ride isn’t…cooperative?”
>
  Mitch looked at Monty, happily crunching his treat. “I can’t see that being an issue.”

  “You two going to ride with us, or stand there and flirt all day?” Della glared at them from atop Samson’s mighty back. Now that she was up, it didn’t look like such an impossible proposition. But they were a formidable duo.

  “Yeah, Mitch,” Sabrina teased. “Quit flirting! Go get your horse or we’re going to leave without you.”

  She led Monty to the mounting post where his saddle awaited.

  “Uh, Herb?” Mitch said, suddenly uncomfortable again. Sabrina was a friend and regular visitor. Della and Paris were guests. But what was he? He didn’t remember any of these horses anymore. He knew without asking that Queenie, his quarter horse, was long gone. Had they sold her or had she died? He was afraid to ask. She’d helped him through a lot, that mare. “Is there a particular horse I should take?”

  The barns were still the same on the outside, but they’d been rearranged inside. None of the tack was where it used to be. He didn’t want to make assumptions or mess anything up.

  Herb straightened from adjusting Paris’s stirrup. “Oh, sorry, Mitch. I forgot. What’s your comfort level? I mean, how much riding have you done since you’ve been gone?”

  The casual question stung far more than he expected.

  Mitch had been riding pretty much since he could walk. But he had to admit, the number of times he’d been on horseback in the last decade could be counted on one hand. Surely it would come back to him. He understood horses, at least. Even boring trail nags.

  “I’m rusty,” he admitted grudgingly. “But I imagine I’ll remember what to do once I’m back in the saddle.”

  Sabrina walked behind him and nudged him with her hip. “It’s not good to get rusty,” she said softly, so that only he could hear. “You’ve got to keep your skills up. I could tutor you, if you want.”

  But this time he was ready for her. “Unless you’re too sore.” He let his eyes run down her body. “It’s been a while for you, too, don’t forget. We might have to tutor each other.”

  “Oh for God’s sake,” Della yelled. “Get a room, will ya? Some of us want to ride.”