Barbara Dunlop - In Bed With The Wrangler

While he dialed, Amber moved closer to Royce, turning her back on Barry.

“Is this completely necessary?” she hissed.

“I thought you wanted the bank balance.”

“I do.”

“Then it’s completely necessary.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Let me handle this.”

She took in the determined slant to Royce’s chin while Barry’s voice droned on in the background.

“Do I have a choice?” she asked.

“No.”

“You can be a real hard-ass, you know that?”

“He insulted you.”

“I’m a big girl. I’m over it.”

“That’s not the point.”

She fought against a sudden grin at his need to get in the last word. “Do you ever give up?”

“No.”

Barry cleared his throat, and Amber smoothly turned back to face him.

“Sally is looking into the overdraft and the line of credit to see where-”

“The balance,” said Royce.

Barry’s neck took on a ruddy hue, and he tugged at the white collar of his shirt. “It’s, uh, complicated.”

“I’m an intelligent man, and Amber has an honors degree.”

Barry’s gaze flicked to Amber, and she could have sworn she saw panic in its depths.

“I’d really rather discuss-”

“The balance,” said Royce.

Barry drew a terse breath. “At the moment, the account is overdrawn.”

There were ten full seconds of frozen silence.

Stephanie entered the room from the kitchen, stopping short as she took in the trio.

“Say again?” Royce widened his stance.

“There’s been…That is…” This time when Barry glanced at Amber, he seemed to be pleading for help. There was no help she could give him. She didn’t have a clue what was going on.

Royce’s voice went dangerously low. “Why didn’t you transfer something from corporate?”

Barry tugged at his collar again. “The China deal.”

“What about the China deal?” Royce asked carefully. “Was the transfer held up?”

Barry swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, voice turning to a raspy squeak. “The paperwork. From Cheng Li. It didn’t make the deadline.”

Stephanie’s eyes went wide, while Royce cocked his head, brows creasing. “They assured me the fax would go through.”

“It did. But…well…”

Royce crossed his arms over his chest.

“Our acknowledgment,” said Barry. “The time zone difference.”

“You didn’t send the acknowledgment?”

“End of day. Chicago time.”

“You missed the deadline?” Royce’s voice was harsh with disbelief.

“I’ve been trying to fix it for thirty-six hours.”

Royce took a step forward. “You missed a fifty-million-dollar deadline?”

Barry’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“And you didn’t call me?” Royce’s voice was incredulous now.

“I was trying to fix-”

“Yesterday,” Royce all but shouted, index finger jabbing in Barry’s direction. “Yesterday, I could have called Jared at his hotel. Today, he’s on a sailboat somewhere in the South Pacific. You have…” Royce raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know how much money you’ve lost.”

“I-”

“What in the hell happened?”

“It was the time zones. Technology. The language barrier.”

“You are so fired.”

Amber’s gaze caught Stephanie’s. She felt desperate for an exit. She didn’t want to witness Royce’s anger, Barry’s humiliation. She wanted to be far, far away from this disturbing situation.

“You’re done, Barry,” Royce confirmed to the silent man.

Barry hesitated a beat longer. Then his shoulders dropped. The fight went out of him, and he turned for the door.

The room seemed to boom with silence as Barry’s footsteps receded and the car pulled away outside.

Stephanie took a few hesitant steps toward her brother. “Royce?”

“Cancel his credit cards,” Royce commanded. “Wake up someone from IT and change the computer passwords. And have security reset the codes on the building.”

“What are we going to do?” Stephanie asked in a whisper.

Royce’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He looked to Amber. “I have to call Beijing. If we don’t fix this, the domino effect could be catastrophic.”

Amber nodded. “Just tell me what you need.”

“Can we talk to Jared?” asked Stephanie.

Royce shook his head. “Not a chance. Not for a week at least.”

Amber hung up the phone after their fifth call to China, her expression somber as Royce’s mood.

“That’s it.” He voiced his defeat out loud.

“Are you sure?”

“Can you think of anything else?”

She shook her head.

He slipped the phone from her hands, setting it on the end table next to the sofa in the living room. The deadline was the deadline, and they hadn’t been able to penetrate the Chinese bureaucracy to make their case to Cheng Li. The deal was canceled.

It was nearly 3:00 a.m. Only a few lights burned in the house, and Stephanie had headed to her own ranch an hour ago. Amber tipped her head back on the gold sofa cushion, closing her eyes. She’d struggled through translations for hours on end, and the strain was showing in her pale complexion.

Royce gave in to the temptation to smooth a lock of hair from her cheek. “You okay?”

“Just sorry I couldn’t help.”

He dropped his hand back down. “You did help.”

She opened her eyes. “How so?”

“I understand now what is and isn’t possible.”

“Nothing’s possible.”

“Apparently not.”

She blinked her dark lashes, and her hand covered his. “How bad is it?”

He rested his own head against the sofa back. “It’ll play havoc with our cash flow. We may have to sell off some of our companies. But, to start off, I’m going to have to call the division heads to keep them from panicking. Firing Barry was a significant move.”

“Will they be angry?”

He shrugged. “That’s the least of my worries.”

Amber didn’t answer, and Royce was content to sit in silence. He turned his hand, palm up, wrapping it around her smaller one. For some reason, it gave him comfort. Simply sitting here quietly, with her by his side, made the problems seem less daunting.

Her hand went limp in his, and he turned to gaze at her closed eyes and even breathing. She was astonishingly beautiful-smooth skin, delicate nose, high cheekbones and lustrous, golden hair that made a man want to bury his face against it.

He felt a shot of pity for the hapless Hargrove. Imagine having Amber in your grasp then having her disappear? Not that the man wasn’t better off. Royce glanced at the portrait of his parents on their wedding day. He usually put it away while he was at the ranch, unable to bear the look of unbridled adoration on his father’s face.

And that’s the way it would have been with Amber, too. Her husband would have gone completely stupid and helpless with longing, only to have her change her mind and move on. Poor, pathetic Hargrove. He wouldn’t have known what hit him.

Royce extricated his hand from hers, shifting to the edge of the couch, positioning himself to lift her into his arms.

“Amber?” he whispered softly, sliding one arm around her back and the other beneath her knees.

She mumbled something unintelligible, but her head tipped to rest against his shoulder. He lifted her up, and she stayed sleeping, even as he adjusted her slight body in his arms.

She weighed less than nothing. She was also soft and her scent appealing. There was something completely right about the scent of a beautiful woman, particularly this beautiful woman, fresh, like wildflowers, he supposed, but sweeter, more compelling.

He moved his nose toward her hair, guessing it was her shampoo. Hard to tell, really. He mounted the staircase, taking his time, reluctant to arrive at her room where he’d have to put her down.

His imagination wandered to that moment. Should he help her undress? Slip her between the sheets in her underwear? Would a gentleman wake her up or leave her in her clothes? Never having been a gentleman, Royce wasn’t sure.

This had to be the first time he’d put a woman to bed without immediate plans to join her. He couldn’t help a self-deprecating smile. It figured. He also couldn’t remember a moment in his life when he’d been more eager to join a woman in bed.

He pushed open her door, carefully easing her through the opening. Then he crossed to the queen-size, brass bed and leaned down, laying her gently on top of the comforter.

She moaned her contentment, and his longing ratcheted up a notch. Their faces were only inches apart, his arm around her back, the other cradling her bare legs. He knew he had to leave her, but try as he might, he couldn’t get his body to cooperate.

“Amber,” he whispered again, knowing that if she woke he’d have no choice but to walk away.

“Mmm,” she moaned. Then she sighed and wriggled in his arms.

His muscles tensed to iron. His gaze took in her pouty lips and, before he knew it, his head was dipping toward hers. Then he was kissing her sweet lips.

Just to say good-night, he promised himself. Just a chaste-

But then she was kissing back.

Her arms twined around his neck, and her head tipped sideways, lips parting, accommodating his ravenous kiss. Her back arched, and her fingertips curled into his short hair, even as her delicate tongue flicked into his mouth.

He leaned into her soft breasts, stroking the length of her bare legs, teasing the delicate skin behind her knees, tracing the outline of her shapely calves and daring the heat of her smooth thighs.

He wanted her, more than he’d ever wanted a woman in his life. Passion was quickly clouding reason, and his hormones warred with intelligence. Another minute, another second, and his logic would switch completely off.

He dragged his mouth from hers. “Amber?” he forced himself to ask. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Her eyes popped open, and she took a sudden jerk back against the pillow. She blinked in confusion at Royce’s face, and in a split and horrible second, he realized what had happened.

The woman had been dreaming.

And Royce wasn’t the man she’d been dreaming about.

In the morning, Amber was grateful to find Stephanie in the kitchen at breakfast. She needed a buffer between her and Royce while she got over her embarrassment.

She’d hesitated a moment too long last night. When she’d realized it wasn’t a dream, she should have kept right on kissing him. She should have pressed her body tightly against his and sent the signal that she was completely attracted to him, nearly breathless with passion for him, and that making love was exactly what she wanted.

Instead, all he’d seen was her shock and hesitation. He’d been offended and abruptly left the room. She didn’t blame him. And she wasn’t brave enough to try to explain.

“Morning, Amber.” Stephanie was her usual bright self as she bit into a strip of bacon, legs swinging from the high chair at the breakfast bar.

“Morning,” Amber replied, daring a fleeting glance at Royce.

He gave her a cool nod then turned his attention back to Stephanie. “Two days at the most,” he told Stephanie.

“I’ll definitely get you something,” she responded and blew out a sigh. “This is the worst possible time.”

“I can’t imagine there being a best possible time.” Royce stood from the breakfast bar and carried his plate and coffee mug over to the sink. He downed the last of the coffee before setting everything on the counter.

Amber helped herself to a clean plate from the cupboard and took a slice of toast from the platter.

“Royce has to call a division heads meeting,” Stephanie told her. “We need to ask for financial reports from everybody. But he’s worried about panic.”

“Who would panic?” Amber addressed her question first to Royce, but when he didn’t meet her eyes, she turned back to Stephanie.

“I need a pretext for the meeting,” said Royce. “Barry Brewster’s firing is bad enough. Add to that a sudden meeting and financial reports, and the gossip will swirl.

“We have over two thousand employees,” he continued. “Some very big contracts, and some very twitchy clients.” His gaze finally went to Amber, but his face remained impassive, his tone flat. “If you don’t mind, we’ll start a rumor you were the cause.”

“You mean the cause of Barry Brewster being fired, not the money problems?”

Royce didn’t react to her joke. “Yes.”

“Are you leaving today?” asked Stephanie.

At first Amber thought Stephanie meant her, and the idea made her clench her stomach in regret. But then she realized Stephanie was talking to her brother.

Royce nodded.

“Where-” Amber clamped her jaw to slow herself down. It was jarring to think of him leaving with this tension between them. “Where are you going?” she finished, feigning only a mild interest.