The Rancher's Mistress

‘Better watch your step,’ he said, letting go of her. ‘You seem pretty accident-prone.’

‘I will, don’t worry,’ she retorted, pulling herself together. ‘Thanks again for the...assistance. I’d have been lost without you.’

The satire engendered a sudden glint in the grey eyes. ‘Any time.’

Alex made her escape without further mishap, gathering her wrap and slippers from the chair where she had left them as she went. As first impressions went she had certainly made an impact, she reflected wryly. Not that Cal Forrester had looked all that impressed, she had to admit.

Taking a look in the dressing-table mirror back in her room, she could hardly blame him. With her hair still tucked under the shower-cap and her eyes reddened by the soap, she looked far from a pretty sight. She dragged off the cap to allow her hair to tumble down about her shoulders, dropping the towel to reach for her wrap.

Slenderly curved at waist and hip, breasts high and firm, legs long and shapely, she had received many offers of nude work over the years, but it had never attracted her. She’d advertised everything from hosiery to make-up, modelled catalogue clothing and hostessed a television quiz-show for a couple of series, among other things, but had never quite managed to gain one of the real big-time contracts that would have made her a household name. Not that it mattered any more. She was through with that part of her life for good.

Throwing on a pair of harem trousers and a loose, silky top, she put a brush through her hair and applied a layer of amber lipstick. Her brows and lashes were dark enough not to need any enhancement, not that she would have bothered even if they hadn’t been. She much preferred to go natural when she wasn’t working.

The thought of seeing Cal Forrester again after that bathroom fiasco brought warmth to her cheeks. Right as she’d no doubt been in taking it that hers was far from the first female body he’d seen in the nude, it made little difference to her feelings when it came to her own exposure. She was no prude, but neither was she an exhibitionist—although he obviously took her for such.

What she certainly wasn’t going to do was let him see any discomfiture on her part, she told herself firmly. Let him make what assumptions he liked. What could a jumped-up cowboy stuck out here in the back of beyond know about it anyway?

Coming from just below her window, the sudden and enthusiastic clanging of iron on iron made her jump. The anticipated summons to supper, she assumed. The sun was lowering fast, gilding the edges of the clouds and spreading deep shadows across the landscape. Whatever she might feel about the owner, the Lazy Y was no disappointment so far, Alex acknowledged. She couldn’t wait to sample the rest.

CHAPTER TWO

STILL closed when she emerged from her room, the next door along opened, as if on cue, just as she reached it Dressed now in pale grey trousers and black shirt open on the brown column of his throat, the Lazy Y’s owner looked less of a cowboy but no less of a threat to her peace of mind as he ran his eyes over her, that same, derisive little smile plucking at his lips.

‘I guess I neglected to welcome you properly back there,’ he said. ‘Other things on my mind.’ He put out a hand, one dark brow lifting sardonically at her involuntary withdrawal. ‘It’s to shake, that’s all.’

Biting back the caustic retort, Alex extended her own hand, tensing as the long brown fingers closed briefly about it. There was no disputing his physical charisma; he radiated vibrant masculinity from every pore. She could sense the latent power in that leanly muscled build.

‘It’s good of you to give me the opportunity to see Greg again,’ she said, doing her best to conceal her reactions. ‘I really am grateful.’

His shrug was dismissive. ‘No big deal. Let’s go and eat.’

Margot came out from one of the rooms opposite as they moved towards the stairs. She was still wearing jeans, though the blue and white shirt had been replaced by a plain white one. She looked at Alex with an admiration untainted by any hint of feminine jealousy.

‘You look wonderful!’ she exclaimed. ‘Isn’t she just gorgeous, Cal?’

‘Without a doubt,’ he agreed on a dry note. ‘A regular Helen of Troy!’

Capable of launching a regular wallop if pushed much further! thought Alex darkly, fixing a smile on her face for Margot’s benefit.

‘I think I might be a little over-dressed,’ she said.

Margot shook her head emphatically. ‘Oh, no, you’re just right! Everyone knows Greg’s sister is a model. They’d all be disappointed if you turned up looking ordinary. Not that you could, anyway,’ she added quickly. ‘Look ordinary, I mean. You’re not—’

‘I’d quit while you’re ahead,’ advised her brother. She wrinkled her nose at him. ‘Alex knows what I mean.’

‘All the way,’ Alex assured her. ‘And I’m flattered.’ She fell into step with her sister-in-law to descend the stairs, leaving Cal to follow on behind. ‘Greg already go down, did he?’

‘No, but he won’t be a minute. I’d have waited for him but, like he says, we’re not joined at the hip.’

A pretty insensitive thing to say to a new bride, Alex reflected, doubting if Margot was quite as impervious as she appeared to be on the surface. Greg needed to practise some tender loving care.

People were flooding into the dining room, the majority of them dressed the way Margot was, with only a couple of the women wearing skirts. There was just the one long table, with no particular seat allocation from what Alex could gather.

Cal pulled out a chair for her halfway down the table and took the one next to her himself, introducing her to those within earshot. Seated down at the other end of the table, Margot looked to be deep in animated conversation with her own nearest neighbours.

‘Greg tells us you’re pretty big in Europe, Alex,’ said one of the women.

‘Greg exaggerates,’ Alex replied lightly. ‘I’m just one of many.’

‘Modest as they come!’ declared her brother, passing behind her on his way to the chair left vacant at Margot’s side. ‘Hi, everybody! Had a good day?’

The ensuing chorus established that everyone had indeed. Glad to be out of the limelight, Alex listened with enjoyment for the following few minutes as one after another expounded on events.

Eighteen was the lower age limit for guests, Greg had told her, though most of this group were in their thirties and forties, with one couple approaching retirement age from the look of them. Children would be too much of a responsibility on a working ranch, she guessed.

None of the men she had seen riding in with Cal were present, which meant that the hands must have their own dining quarters. Not quite the classless society she had visualised, then.

She was vitally conscious of the closeness of Cal’s knee to hers beneath the chequered cloth, steeling herself not to jerk away on the couple of occasions that they momentarily touched. The degree of physical awareness he aroused in her was undeniable. Like being connected to the national grid, she thought whimsically.

Judging from the way some of the other women reacted to him, she wasn’t on her own in finding him pretty electrifying either. Probably as much to do with what he did for a living as his general appearance. There was something inherently alluring about cowboys—even modern-day ones.

Greg hadn’t exaggerated about the food. It left little to be desired either in quantity or quality. Alex had never seen steaks as big or in such profusion, never eaten chicken that tasted the way this did. The vegetables were home-grown, with three varieties of potato alone. She had no room left for the banana cream pie or fruit cobbler that followed.

The whole party adjourned to the veranda for coffee afterwards, leaving the two women who had served up the meal to clear away. Darkness was coming down fast, the stars already twinkling in a sky of grey velvet. The jet lag Alex had been conscious of earlier seemed to have dissipated. She felt exhilarated, eager for the morrow when she could maybe start doing some of the things she yearned to do. With staff on hand to take care of the general housework and cooking there was obviously no need of help in that direction, which left her free to apply herself in others. All she had to do was prove herself capable.

Cal was seated nearby. One leg lifted carelessly over the other knee, hands linked behind his head, he looked surprisingly relaxed. Surprising because Alex hadn’t imagined him the type to spend an evening lazing around with the guests. He had hardly spoken a word to her during supper. Not that he’d had very much opportunity, she supposed, considering the way the woman who had seated herself on his other side had monopolised his attention.

She stole a glance at him, feeling a sudden frisson down her spine as the grey eyes turned unexpectedly her way.

‘You must be finding this very dull compared with what you’d normally be doing of an evening,’ he commented.

‘Not in the least,’ she denied. ‘I like to get up early, so I’m very rarely late out of bed.’

There was mockery in the slant of his mouth. ‘Always alone?’

Alex looked back at him steadily. ‘I don’t really think that concerns you.’

‘You’re right,’ he agreed, ‘but it interests me. The way you look, you certainly can’t be short of men in your life.’

‘The way I look generally attracts the wrong kind of men,’ she said.

Dark brows lifted. ‘What would you consider the right kind?’

‘Those with a little more to them than an inflated income and an ego to match,’ she retorted smartly. ‘Money can’t buy everything.’

‘It can go a long way.’ He ran a reminiscent gaze down the slender length of her body, returning to view her flushed cheeks and sparking eyes with a smile that made her want to kick him. ‘Why are you really here, Alex?’

The question took her by surprise. It was an effort to keep her voice even. ‘I’d have thought that was obvious.’

‘Don’t bother feeding me any “had to see big brother again” line. You neither of you come across as pining from lack of contact.’

‘Perhaps because we’re English, and the English don’t parade their emotions. If I’d realised I was unwelcome,’ she added tautly, ‘I certainly wouldn’t have come!’

Cal shook his head. ‘I didn’t say you were unwelcome, only that I doubted if the chance of seeing Greg again would be enough to bring you all the way out here. Hardly your scene, is it?’

‘You’ve no idea what my scene might be!’

‘I know what it isn’t. You’re as out of place on the Lazy Y as I would be in front of a camera!’

The way his chair was angled she was, to a certain extent, boxed into a corner, anything he said to her unlikely to be overheard above the general chatter. Done purposely? she wondered.

‘If you’re so perceptive,’ she challenged, ‘perhaps you’d like to take a guess at what other motive I might have had!’

‘Running away from something, maybe.’

Her breath caught in her throat. He couldn’t know, she reassured herself swiftly. The story was hardly of world interest. She conjured a laugh, hearing the brittle edge. ‘And there I was congratulating myself on having committed the perfect crime!’

‘Or someone,’ he continued, as though she hadn’t spoken. He gave her no time to form a response. ‘What do you plan on doing with yourself while you are here? Your brother’s going to be pretty busy.’

‘Real or manufactured jobs?’ Alex regretted the question the moment it was out, seeing the grey eyes suddenly harden, but it was too late to retract it. She made an effort to modify it instead. ‘You seem to have been piling on the pressure a bit hard.’

‘Been complaining, has he?’

‘Not in so many words. More an impression I gathered.’

‘You’ve been here all of three hours. You think that time enough to start making snap judgements?’

‘I don’t need to read a whole book to get an idea of the plot,’ she countered, abandoning the pacification. ‘I think you’re probably giving Greg the run-around in the hope of showing him in his true colours—or what you consider his true colours. He’s not the kind of husband you’d have chosen for Margot, is he?’

The hands had come down from behind the dark head, now, to rest on the arms of his chair, fingers curving the edge of the wood. Strong fingers, accustomed to controlling mettlesome horseflesh—among other things.

‘If we’re going in for plain speaking, no, he isn’t,’ came the blunt agreement. ‘If she had to marry anybody this soon it should have been someone she knew something about.’

‘Someone you already had in mind yourself, by any chance?’

‘Someone she had in mind before meeting up with that brother of yours!’

Blue eyes clashed with grey, holding fast through sheer effort of will. ‘Obviously not in any serious sense. If she’s old enough to be married at all, she’s old enough to make her own decisions.’

His lip curled. ‘I guess you’ve been making yours most of your life!’

‘Only since I realised it was my life.’

‘Never made any mistakes?’

‘Nothing radical.’ It was a long way from the truth, but Alex was in no mood for ethical debate with herself. ‘Anyway, it isn’t me we’re talking about.’

They were drawing attention, she realised, catching a couple of speculative glances. Her smile was purely for effect. ‘I think we’d better leave it at that.’

Cal inclined his head. ‘For now.’ He got to his feet in one lithe movement, raising his voice to be heard over the others. ‘Early start for those taking the all-day ride. Anybody not saddled up by six-thirty gets left behind!’

Groans greeted the announcement, though no one seemed seriously perturbed. To Alex, a full-day ride sounded tempting but, having not been on horseback for several weeks, she knew it would be wiser to harden up a little first. The last thing she needed was saddle-soreness.

In any case, she thought wryly, she hadn’t been invited.

Cal went on indoors without a backward glance, leaving her to reflect on her lack of wisdom in calling him out the way she had. She hadn’t set out with that intention. Not consciously, at any rate.

Wise or not, Alex was pretty certain she was right about his motives in putting Greg through the mill. He could even be hoping that, given enough of a hard time, his unwelcome brother-in-law would take off for pastures new. Greg’s motives in marrying Margot might not be all they should be, but, the way she so obviously felt about him, she would be devastated if he did up and leave. That surely had to be taken into account.

Submerged in her thoughts, Alex started when one subject of them dropped into the chair recently vacated.

‘Feeling the effects?’ asked Margot sympathetically. ‘I’ve never flown the Atlantic myself, but I can imagine what it’s like to have all those hours’ difference. What time will it be in England now?’

Glancing at the watch she had altered on the domestic flight from Denver, Alex did a quick calculation. ‘Around five in the morning,’ she hazarded, suddenly aware of it now. ‘I’ve been on the go more than twenty-four hours!’

‘Time you got some sleep, then, I’d think.’

Alex smiled at her. ‘I think you’re right. I want to be fresh for the morning.’

‘Greg might not be around until evening, but I’ll be here if you’d like some company.’

‘I’d be glad of it. I’ve never been on a working ranch before. I’ve never been on any kind of ranch before, if it comes to that. It’s all quite new to me.’

‘You have some big farms in England, though, don’t you? I’d have thought they were much the same kind of thing.’

‘The biggest would hardly fill a corner of this spread. They don’t use horses either—not for moving the cattle, at any rate. It’s a whole different world.’ Alex paused a moment, viewing the interest in the youthfully lovely face opposite. ‘Greg must bring you over to visit,’ she said on impulse. ‘My flat isn’t very big but we’d manage.’

‘I’d love it!’ Margot sounded genuinely enthusiastic. ‘I always wanted to visit England.’

If Margot and Greg did come over, it was hardly going to be in the immediate future, Alex told herself. Time enough to get her life back in order first. Not that she imagined either of them would condemn her out of hand even if they did discover her secret. Cal was the only one likely to give no quarter.

She smothered an involuntary yawn with the back of her hand, aware of weariness infiltrating both body and mind. ‘I’d better go on up before I fall asleep right here.’

‘I’ll come up with you,’ said Margot. ‘Nobody keeps late hours. Early morning is the best time of day.’

Alex could agree with that. She had never been one for sleeping in herself. A few hours’ sleep and she would be ready to tackle anything—including Cal Forrester!

Others were already drifting away. Engrossed in conversation with one of the guests, Greg spared her the briefest attention when she paused to say goodnight.

‘See you in a little while, honey,’ he added to Margot, at her back. ‘Charlie’s giving me the low-down on the insurance business.’

‘Good line to be in,’ said Charlie. ‘Sure has been for me, at any rate. Way to go!’

For him, perhaps, Alex reflected, catching the expression in her brother’s eyes and hoping he wasn’t already contemplating a change of direction. Ranch life may not have turned out to be all he had anticipated, but the Lazy Y was Margot’s home. Two months was hardly a fair trial, in any case.

She was reading too much into too little again, she chided herself, continuing on her way indoors. After eight years she could hardly hope to know her brother’s mind on any level.

There was no sign of Cal inside. No sign of anyone, if it came to that. Margot said goodnight at the top of the stairs, looking, Alex thought, a little too determinedly cheerful. How many times, she wondered, had Greg left his wife to come to bed on her own like this?

‘I’m really looking forward to seeing more of the ranch tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Perhaps we could take a ride together. Not too far, though,’ she added laughingly. ‘I need to take it in easy stages.’

‘Right after breakfast,’ Margot promised, obviously only too ready to fall in with whatever was proposed. ‘I’m so glad you’re here, Alex,’ she added impulsively.

‘So am I.’ Alex leaned forward and placed a light kiss on her sister-in-law’s cheek. ‘See you in the morning. Bright and early!’

The door to Cal’s room was firmly closed. Whether he was in there or not there was no way of knowing. If he was, and asleep already, it was unlikely that any small noise was going to waken him but, nevertheless, Alex found herself tiptoeing around the bedroom as she unpacked.

Would he sleep in pyjamas? she found herself wondering, and had a sudden vivid impression of that long, lean body minus anything at all, bringing her to an abrupt stop in the act of easing open a drawer to stow away some clothing. She was hardly in the habit of indulging in lewd thoughts about men—for the most part she preferred not to think of them at all these days—but there was something about Cal Forrester that stirred her baser instincts: something that liking had little to do with.

Dangerous only if she allowed it to be, she told herself hardily, stuffing undies into the half-open drawer, and that she had no intention of doing.

She awoke to daylight and a feeling of well-being that lasted only as long as it took her to register the position of the hands on the bedside clock. Nine-thirty! The day was half over!

Flinging back the bedclothes, she slid her feet into the neat black mules she used as slippers and reached for the light cotton wrap she had left over the end of the bed. Breakfast would be long over by now, the all-day party miles out on the trail. With any luck, Cal would be off the homestead too. She would hate to face that derisive smile of his when she finally got downstairs.

Showered, and dressed in jeans and blue chambray shirt, she tied her hair back from her face with a pale blue scarf and applied a hasty smear of lipstick before leaving the room. Better late than never, she told herself, but it wasn’t convincing.

One of the youngish women who had served supper was crossing the wide hall as Alex descended the stairs. She paused on sight of her.

‘Didn’t realise you were up yet,’ she said without censure. ‘What would you like for breakfast?’

‘Just coffee will be fine, thanks,’ Alex responded, unwilling to put the woman to any trouble when she must have other things to do. ‘You’re Janet, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right. Janet Leeson. You can’t go till lunchtime on just coffee,’ she added. ‘I’ll fetch you some pancakes and syrup.’

‘I’d be happier with toast,’ Alex conceded. ‘Quite happy to do it myself too. You don’t have to wait on me.’

Janet lifted her shoulders in a cheerful shrug. ‘It’s what I’m paid for, honey. Anyway, Buck doesn’t like folk invading his kitchen. You take yourself out on the veranda and I’ll bring it to you. Too good a morning to hang about indoors.’

And had been for some time, thought Alex , ruefully, moving to obey the injunction as the older woman turned back the way she had come. At least she felt fully rested. After ten full hours’ sleep she should do too!

There was no sign of Margot when she stepped onto the veranda. The mountains were etched against a sky of cobalt blue, the sun a blazing orb already high overhead. From the step she looked out over the corrals to the rolling grasslands beyond, glimpsing water through the belt of trees a quarter of a mile or so away. Having a river running right through Lazy Y land had to make it a particularly valuable property, she reckoned.

Life here must be pretty good all round, although the winters would be far more severe than anything she had ever experienced, with snow feet rather than mere inches deep. Even then there would be compensations such as skiing right on the doorstep, for instance. Not that she could ski, but given the incentive...

‘So you made it,’ commented a fast becoming familiar voice behind her, making muscle and sinew tense in involuntary response. ‘Sleep well?’

Alex turned about slowly, maintaining a deadpan expression with the utmost difficulty. Dressed once more in jeans and shirt, thumbs hooked casually into his belt, one dark brow lifted in ironical enquiry, Cal leaned against the doorframe. How long had he been standing there watching her? she wondered fleetingly.

‘Very well, thanks,’ she said, determined not to show any discomfiture over her tardiness. ‘I didn’t expect to find you still around at this hour.’

‘I had some paperwork to catch up on. There’s more to raising cattle than riding herd.’

‘I’m sure there is,’ Alex returned smoothly. ‘Just as there’s more to modelling than standing in front of a camera.’

For a brief moment there was genuine humour in the grey eyes, then the mockery was back two-fold. ‘I’ll take your word for it. Have you eaten?’

‘Janet is bringing me some toast and coffee,’ she said, and felt herself moved to add, ‘I’d have got it myself, but I understand your cook doesn’t like strangers wandering about the kitchen.’

‘Buck doesn’t like anybody wandering about the kitchen,’ Cal agreed. ‘Including me.’

Alex lifted a brow in faithful imitation. ‘You allow him to dictate?’

‘Considering the difficulty I’d have in replacing him, I don’t have much alternative.’

‘Oh, well, I don’t imagine you’re all that eager to spend time in the kitchen anyway,’ she said blandly.

‘You could be right about that.’ He came away from the doorjamb to allow Janet through, following her out to indicate the nearest group of chairs with a nod of his head. ‘I’ll join you.’

There were two cups already on the tray, Alex noted. Obviously Janet had anticipated some such move. She was none too keen on the idea herself, but she didn’t have much alternative either.

Cal waited until she was seated before taking a seat himself, lifting both boot-clad feet to rest a heel on the rail with the ease of long custom.