The Highest Bidder

She made a move to pass by him, to escape his wrath, but he wasn’t through with her yet. He took hold of her arm, garnering her full attention. “You played me for a fool.”

She straightened her stance, holding her head high, like a member of royalty. “You are a fool. You’re a dumb stupid hick who let me string him along.”

His teeth ground together and his words came out low, from deep in his gut. “I’ll make sure to tell Brady you said that. Being as we’re related, that means he’s a dumb stupid hick, too. He was right about you. Yeah, the dumb stupid hick doesn’t think too highly of you. And this time, I’m not disagreeing.”

She flinched. His victory was small consolation, and while he knew better than to speak that way to a woman, he couldn’t stop himself because her indiscretion had been much worse.

He released her at the same moment she yanked her arm free. “Leave.”

She did. She walked away, and Carter didn’t bother to watch her exit. He headed for the bar, unnerved and feeling like hell. He needed to soak his sorrows with a double shot of whiskey. Jocelyn wasn’t the woman he thought she was. She’d been using him all along. Yeah, but he had to admit, she had him good and fooled.

No woman would ever fool him again, and after his liquor arrived, Carter downed the drink in celebration of escaping the hangman’s noose.

Thirty minutes later and fortified with the best whiskey money could buy, Carter stepped out of the restaurant and was hit with a blast of humid August night air. It was the only thing about New York that reminded him of Texas—cloistering humidity. The heat crept up his collar and made him sweat.

All of a sudden a crowd emerged, swarming a woman who was trying to enter the restaurant. Bulbs flashed, the rush of footsteps sounded on pavement, shouted questions flew through the air. More than a dozen paparazzi crammed her as she made a feeble attempt to push her way out. Her shoulder was bumped once, twice. She swiveled right, then left, trying to break away. Questions were leveled at her like grenades. When her eyes met his, in that brief moment, Carter saw a caged animal struggling to get free. She was trapped.

Recognition struck him smack between the eyes. She was the woman he’d glimpsed at the auction yesterday.

Someone yanked at the scarf hiding her jet-black hair. Long, luxurious curls spilled down her shoulder, and she reached behind her head to put the scarf back in place. Carter had seen enough. He muscled his way through the crowd, giving a few well-placed shoves himself to get to her. When he finally faced her, he gripped both her hands in his, firm but gentle. She gazed at him with desperate, deep lavender-blue eyes. Carter had no time to dwell on her beautiful face. He blocked a cameraman’s shot with his body, and the Stetson riding low on his forehead lent another measure of concealment. Use everything in your arsenal, he’d learned in the marines.

He leaned in real close. “I can get you out of here. But you have to trust me.”

Two

Fraught with panic, Macy faced the man from the auction, certain she was hallucinating. It couldn’t be him. She’d dreamed about him last night, and this morning, when she should have forgotten all about him, he’d still marched into her thoughts during quiet moments.

Shouted barbs, flashbulbs snapping and body heat from tabloid junkies brought her back to the here and now.

“Got yourself a cowboy,” shouted a photographer from the back of the pack.

“Are you doing nude scenes with him, Macy?” another asked.

The vultures chuckled.

It angered her that they called her by her first name, as if they were her friends, when the question itself was rude enough to warrant enemy status. Tina knew how to handle the paparazzi. Macy did not. And she paid the price for not being as charming as her famous mother had been.

Her heart pounding, her body abused and her head clouded with uncertainty, Macy glanced down to find her tightly wound fists encased in strong, protective hands. When she gazed up into the cowboy’s eyes, he reassured her with a nod. His words had been like velvet to her ears.

Trust me.

She did.

Someone bumped her from behind, and the cowboy’s gaze grew fierce, giving the photographer ample warning. “Back off.”

Then he met her stare again. “You coming?” His voice was a little more insistent this time.

Macy didn’t have to think twice. She was out of options. The crowd herding her had become more curious now that the cowboy had intervened on her behalf, peppering her with questions as to who he was.

She honestly didn’t know.

But she was about to find out.

She nodded, and he gave her a fast smile. “Let’s go.”

The cowboy’s grip was steady on her hand as they took off at a run. Mentally she cursed the Paciotti pumps slowing her down. She struggled to keep pace with his strides.

“Don’t look back,” he ordered. He guided her down an alleyway, dodging garbage cans. She ran on the pads of her feet to keep from stumbling on three-inch heels. her scarf flew off her head, clinging on by the knot at her throat. The material whipped at her shoulders. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her nerves rattled as the cowboy led her away from the tabloid hounds dogging her.

The sound of labored breaths and footsteps shuffling from behind dropped off a little at a time as they hurried along the narrow alley. It wasn’t a herd following them anymore, just several hangers-on. Those few were persistent, and the cowboy tightened his hold on her hand when they reached the end of the alley. He took half a second to glance both ways on the side street before gesturing to the right. “There.”

She followed him, running quickly to a shiny black Lincoln Town Car. “Get in and we’ll be off.” She glanced behind her to see four photographers snapping pictures at the base of the alleyway.

Her savior opened the back door for her, surprising the chauffeur, who was eating a burrito in the front seat. She climbed inside and slid over. He joined her a second later. “Give it some gas, Larry. And be quick.”

“Yes, sir.” The chauffeur tossed his food down and fumbled for a second, obviously caught off guard. Then the engine revved to life. Before the paparazzi got within twenty feet, they had pulled out, Larry driving as fast as traffic allowed.

“Wow.” Macy leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. The past twenty minutes were a blur. One second she was on her way to meet Avery for dinner, and the next she was being pursued by overly zealous tabloid maniacs.

She tried to slow her breathing, but then there was the Stetson-wearing cowboy to think about. From the moment she’d laid eyes on him, he’d thrown her off balance.

She turned to face him and caught a whiff of his musky cologne. The scent was a turn-on in its own right, but on him, now that was really something. She’d already put him in white knight status; he didn’t need any more help. “I don’t usually accept rides from strangers,” she offered, clearing the air.

He chuckled and deep twin dimples appeared, softening the sharp planes of his face. Okay, this was just not funny anymore.

“But you made an exception for me?”

“I knew I could trust you. I saw you yesterday at the, uh, the auction. I was there, too.”

He gave her an appraising stare. “I know.”

“You know me?”

“No, can’t say that I do. But I noticed you. You were trying your best not to look conspicuous. Guess the designer sunglasses and scarf gave you away. It’s kind of hard not to notice a beautiful woman covering herself all up. Not that I blame you for trying to disguise yourself.” He gestured with a tilt of his head to the direction they’d just come from. “Does that happen to you often?”

He thought she was beautiful, even under the disguise. “Lately, yes…unfortunately.”

They were traveling down the street, and Macy had no idea where they were headed. All she saw behind him through the window was a flash of streetlights and neon signs.

He took care with removing his hat and laid it between them. He continued to watch her. Normally she’d squirm under the heat of a stranger’s stare, but oddly all she felt was excitement, as if she was living out her fantasy. She still couldn’t believe she was in his car, driving toward who knows what.

Then she reined in those thoughts. He was engaged. Or going to be soon. Her fantasy was over. “I’m Macy Tarlington.”

His eyes flickered with recognition. “Tarlington?”

His recognition wasn’t aimed at her. He didn’t know who she was. It was the Tarlington name that turned heads in every civilized country around the world. Apparently, the cowboy had never seen any of the work Macy had done on film. She wasn’t a star by any rights, but most people in the know would recognize her on the street. “My mother was Tina Tarlington.”

“I’ll be damned.” He shot her a charming smile then put out his hand. The large capable hand she’d already held. “Carter McCay. I’m from Wild River, Texas.”

Of course, he was a Texan. With that charming accent, where else could he be from? “Hollyweird, California.”

His lips quirked up and they sat staring at each other, their hands entwined in a slow shake.

Macy would’ve lost her footing if she’d been standing from the way he watched her. “I want to thank you. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten away from them if you weren’t there.”

He finally released her hand, and she was momentarily at a loss. “Appeared that way to me, too.”

“You saved me,” she said, still awestruck.

“You needed saving.”

Macy held in a sigh. His fiancée was a lucky woman. “Are you in the habit of saving women, or am I the only one?”

“I’m not in the business of saving anyone anymore.”

“Meaning you once were?”

“Once, a long time ago.” The city lights reflected in his eyes as his gaze shifted out the window. “I was a marine.”

“Ah, that explains your call to duty.”

His gaze snapped back to hers.

“I mean, isn’t that wh-what you do?” Oh boy, she didn’t want to insult the man who’d saved her. She found herself fumbling with an explanation. “The first to go in when there’s a crisis.”

His lips twitched as if he found her amusing. “I’m a Texan. We don’t like seeing women being manhandled. Marine or not, any man worth his salt would have done the same. “

Macy decided she liked a man who used the phrase worth his salt. “No matter the reason, I’m appreciative.”

“Why were those bozos so dang persistent anyway?”

The dreaded question.

Macy darted a glance out the window. “I suppose they think they’re justified.”

His lips tightened. “Nothing justifies shoving a defenseless woman and sticking cameras in her face.”

“If you knew me better, you’d know I’m not exactly defenseless,” Macy quipped. “I was caught off guard. Usually I’m more prepared.”

“Can’t imagine living like that.”

“It’s worse now. My mother’s death put the spotlight on me.” She tried to pass off her troubles with a shrug. “I’m the center of some controversy.”

His gaze remained on her, searching, waiting. But Macy held back. Though her recent episodes had been all over entertainment news when she’d walked out on two separate productions, trying to explain them to a stranger would be awkward. Thankfully, her lawsuits related to those incidents, weren’t public knowledge yet.

She didn’t answer the question in Carter’s eyes.

“So, why the auction?” he asked. “Your mother was…”

“Broke. She wasn’t good with money and she loved beautiful things.”

His eyes widened, as if she’d told a telling tale. “You want a drink? All I have is champagne.”

The bottle of Dom was sitting in a sterling-silver bucket in the center back of the town car. He picked it up along with two crystal flutes and poured them each a glass. She accepted one and glanced out the window again, noting the city lights fading, fast becoming a distant memory.

“By the way,” she whispered, taking a sip of the bubbly. “Where are you taking me?”

Wind blew her hair off her shoulders. The cool breeze refreshed her mind and rejuvenated her body. She stood on the deck of a private yacht watching the glorious Manhattan skyline. To think, if Avery hadn’t canceled their dinner date right before she’d arrived at the restaurant, and if Macy hadn’t gotten out of her cab to walk the two blocks to her favorite sushi place, her evening would have been a lonely night of salmon sashimi and wasabi.

The term too good to be true was overrated, except when it came to Carter McCay. He’d been a perfect gentleman, offering to take her back to her hotel.

“What’s my other option?” she’d asked.

And now, she was sailing the Hudson River with her handsome cowboy. She’d had a million questions for him while in the limo, but she’d refrained from asking. She wanted to pretend for a little while longer that all was right with the world while trying to forget the mob scene that would have taken her wits if Carter hadn’t rescued her.

She was being reckless for a change, driven by her coping mechanisms not to overanalyze everything. She was going with the flow. As her mother used to do.

Carter leaned his elbows against the railing next to her. She smiled at him. The “flow” was pretty darn great from her stance. His presence made her stomach flutter, but at the same time, she felt safe with him. She trusted him. And for a girl who’d grown up with the Hollywood scene, trust didn’t come easy.

“This is nice, Carter. It’s so peaceful out on the water.”

He inhaled deep and nodded. “That was the plan.”

“But the plan wasn’t for me, of course.”

“True. Did you notice what I bought at your mother’s auction yesterday?”

“I noticed. You bought one of her diamond rings.”

“Yeah, and like a fool, I thought a Tarlington diamond would seal the deal. I proposed to my girl tonight.”

“Tonight?” Uh-oh.

He looked out to the water, focusing away from the city lights to the darkness. “Yeah. Right before I met you. She turned me down flat and pretty much made a fool out of me. Seems she was using me to get the attention of my…Of someone else.”

Was that woman nuts? “Oh wow. That’s pretty crappy.”

“Nothing pretty about it.”

“It’s so wrong.”

“Wrong,” he repeated with a nod.

“Why, it’s dreadful and appalling. Depraved.”

“Hold on,” he said, putting up a hand. A soft chuckle rose from his throat. “You’re not making me feel any better.”

Macy grinned. “But I made you smile.”

He chuckled again. “Yeah, you did.”

His gaze flowed over her, his eyes sparkling with appreciation. “Thanks.”

Carter wasn’t someone to toss away like yesterday’s garbage. Macy realized that just from being with him for this short span of time.

That damn curse. She wished she’d stopped him from bidding on the ring. She wished he hadn’t gotten hurt by the rejection. If she hadn’t needed the money for attorney fees and to pay off her mother’s debts, she would have held on to the rings so no one else would have to endure the pain and suffering those diamonds brought on. And it became obvious to her that the limousine and the private yacht, stocked with champagne and aphrodisiacs, were meant for the newly engaged couple. She should have realized it from the beginning, but being with Carter made her fuzzy-brained.

“Seriously, I’m really sorry, Carter.”

He nodded and stared into her eyes. “You wanna know something? Meeting you tonight was just the dose of reality I needed. You helped me forget how gawd awful I felt walking out of that restaurant. You may have helped me just as much as I helped you.”

“I doubt that, but it’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s true, darlin’.” Carter faced the water again and blew out a deep breath. “Man, I’m ready to get on home to Wild River. It’s no secret I don’t like the city.”

“This city in particular?”

“New York especially, but I don’t like any place where skyscrapers block the sunsets. Where you can’t walk down a street without being crammed and bumped. I like wide open spaces. And we have a lot of that in Wild River. It’s peaceful there. A man can think.”

Macy closed her eyes. “Mmm. Sounds like heaven.”

“Pretty close. What about you? Are you a big-city girl?”

“I kind of had to be. My mother and father were both actors. I grew up around glamour and glitz. But with that also came petty jealousy, vanity and overindulgence. So, no. I don’t like big cities. For me, when I go back to Los Angeles, I’ll be facing the same kind of scrutiny. Different reporters hounding me, but with the same agenda. I won’t have a moment of real privacy. I dread it already.”

“There’s no place you can go to hide out?”

Macy shook her head. She’d authorized the money from the auction to pay off her mother’s debts and to pay attorney fees to settle her lawsuits. She didn’t have the money or the means to take off to an exotic port where she wouldn’t be recognized. “Not really.”

Carter was quiet for a few minutes as the yacht rocked gently, cruising by Ellis Island. Beams of light from the Statue of Liberty glistened along the water’s surface. Carter’s musky scent traveled on the breeze. Standing so close to him, Macy felt immeasurably safe and protected. The feeling wouldn’t last. Soon, she’d have to face reality.

She sighed and let the wind whip at her face.

When she opened her eyes, Carter was staring at her, his expression determined. “Why not come to Wild River with me?”

“Wh-what?”

“You can hide out there for as long as you want. I have a big house and thousands of acres. Nobody’ll know you’re there.”

“I, uh…uh…”

“You can leave with me on the red-eye. We’ll be in Texas at breakfast and having lunch at Wild River before noon.”

It sounded like heaven, but Macy couldn’t just fly off with a stranger. Could she? She didn’t know much about him, other than he was wealthy, handsome, honorable and kind.

Oh boy. She’d just answered her own question. But could she really do this? Could she really run away from her troubles for a while? With Carter? What did she have waiting for her in L.A. anyway? She’d have to figure out her future soon, but she hadn’t been able to think of much else but getting through the auction. It had consumed her thoughts and sapped her spirit. Now she’d been offered a brief respite. “I don’t really know y—”

“Look, up until a few hours ago, I was in love with a woman and ready to be married. This is purely an offer with no strings attached. I won’t be sneaking into your room at night.”

Why not? Didn’t he find her appealing? A nervous laugh escaped. “Oh, I wasn’t thinking you would.”

His tone turned serious. “Just so you know, I’m offering you a place to stay, period. It’s up to you. Soon as we’re off this yacht, I’m making arrangements to get back to Wild River. The invitation is yours if you want to take it.”

Because that seemed to be what Carter McCay did. He saved people. And Macy had a big decision to make. Does she go home to Hollywood and face the photographers, the disruptions to her privacy and the bellyaches, or fly off with the sexy cowboy of her dreams?

Shouldn’t be such a hard decision.

But Macy wasn’t like Tina Tarlington in that respect. She didn’t usually do things by the seat of her pants.

Except this time.

Macy needed the peace.

She needed time to think.

She needed to get a handle on where her life was heading.

When it came right down to it, Macy didn’t need any more encouragement. She turned to Carter with a brave smile. “I’ll take it,” she said. “You won’t even know I’m there.”

Macy sat in first class with Carter on a plane nearly empty of passengers. She was heading to Texas, a place she’d visited a few times when she was a young girl. What she remembered about Dallas, Houston and Austin was that everyone was polite and the men were tall, friendly and wore cowboy hats. She’d been fascinated, tagging along with her mother when she’d begun a promotional tour for Striking Out for Texas, a Western film that eventually tanked. Her mother hadn’t been happy about it. The public had seen Tina Tarlington only as a sequin-gown-wearing glamour queen and that’s where they wanted to keep her. A tomboyish, ponytailed Tina with a twang wasn’t big box office. Her mother had faulted the director for the failure due to his lack of vision. Much to Macy’s dismay, she’d never made another Western.

Macy’s fascination with Texas cities had soon turned to disappointment. As a twelve-year-old, she’d expected to see horses roaming the range and longhorn steers grazing. The Texas she’d seen wasn’t anything like Carter McCay had described to her. Now, a shot of mental adrenaline brought on a round of excitement. She couldn’t wait to see the land Carter owned. She couldn’t wait to see Wild River Ranch.

He sat across the aisle from her, lounging in a big leather seat, his long legs stretched out in front of him. With his eyes closed, she could take time to really admire him. His lashes were unfairly long. Brad Pitt dark-blond hair touched his collar, unruly for a military man but perfect for a rancher. His shoulders seemed to stretch a yard wide.

Carter wore a tan shirt now, tucked into slightly worn blue jeans, leather boots and a silver belt buckle with the initials W.R. She assumed the initials were for the ranch, Wild River. Macy had seen Carter only in dress clothes, but it didn’t take her long to figure out he’d look good in anything he wore. The hat, now covering half his face in a downward tilt, was a constant. On Carter, it wasn’t a fashion accessory—it belonged on top of his head.

His eyes snapped alert, and he turned his head her way. Caught staring at him, she darted a glance to the overhead compartment, refusing to look into his eyes.

“What’s that I heard about a nude scene?”

Oh boy. Macy’s heart pumped double time. She’d hoped he hadn’t picked up on that comment from the dozens being leveled at her earlier. “It’s…nothing.”

Carter, apparently done with his little nap, turned his body to face her completely. The full force of his gaze was nothing to sneeze at. “That so? You gonna make me look it up online?”

Macy’s mouth fell open. “You’d do that?”

Carter’s eyes lit with mischief. “So, it is something.”

“Nothing I want to talk about.”

“I’m not a fan of computers, Macy. But I use them when I need to.”

“Trust me. You don’t need to know.”

His lips twisted into a frown and Macy thought about how he’d come to her rescue. How, he’d offered her a place of refuge. She supposed she owed him some sort of explanation.

“Oh, all right. I was doing a movie. It wasn’t a big role or anything, just this little independent film about five women stranded on an island together. I had this scene where…”

Carter leaned forward, his gaze sweeping over her in a way he’d never done before. As if he was just noticing her as a woman. A tremor quaked through her belly, making her extremely queasy.

“Go on,” he said, his brows lifting expectantly.

Sure, mention five females and nudity in the same breath, and suddenly men begin actually listening to women. She took a swallow. “Well, there was this one scene where I was to be bathing naked in this tropical lake and, uh…”

“And?”

“Well, you get the picture, right?”

Carter swept his gaze over her again. This time, with more heat than she’d expected from a jilted man. His hazel eyes darkened. “I’m beginning to.”

She’d wanted those words back the second she’d said them. Goodness, she wasn’t asking him to picture her naked, yet the gleam in his eyes was enough to make her faint.

She pressed on. “Well, I chickened out. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t allow millions of people to see me in my birthday suit. The studio offered a body double, but everyone would still think it was me anyway. So…” She wished she didn’t have to reveal such a humiliating experience to him. “I, uh, refused to do it. I sort of had a tantrum about it.” Lessons learned from her mother. “Finally, they rewrote the scene without the nudity. Needless to say, I made a lot of people unhappy.”