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Authors: Joanna Wayne

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Son of a Gun (16 page)

BOOK: Son of a Gun
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“That wouldn’t require our staying all night.”
“It could.”
All night. Just the two of them. In a hotel in Miami.
Would Damien expect more than she could give? Or would she be the one disappointed when she climbed into bed alone? She had no idea what she was capable of feeling sexually or what would send her emotions tumbling down a black hole.
For that she hated Caudillo all the more.
* * *

 

“I DON’T KNOW HOW SHE’S done it, but this woman has definitely got you riding crooked in a slipping saddle.”
“Her name is Emma,” Damien said. “And to keep things straight, Durk, she doesn’t have me doing anything. I’m making my own decisions.”
“Hey, bros, we’re on the same team here.” Tague made the timeout signal. “Let’s settle down and play it cool.”
“I second that,” Damien said. “I know my decisions may not be making a lot of sense to you right now, Durk, but you have to trust me on this.”
“I’m trying, but it seems to me you’re drilling the well before you have the geologist’s report. What do you really know about Emma?”
“We had this discussion yesterday.”
“Exactly. And now you’re flying her down to Miami with you.”
“There’s a method to my seeming madness. It’s not like I’m whirling her away on some wild romantic adventure.”
“I wish the hell that was what this was about,” Durk said. “I can understand romance, or even lust. It’s all the clandestine undercurrents that go with Emma that worry me. Baby smuggling. A dead man. Cletus said—”
“Whoa. Stop there,” Damien said, suddenly understanding the source of Durk’s concerns. “I know what Cletus thinks, but he’s an attorney. He’s supposed to be suspicious of motive. I may be acting on instinct here, but that doesn’t mean I’m not being cautious or smart.”
“Then I guess I’ve said enough,” Durk said, “but you know you’re starting to act a lot like Dad. He always had a tendency to follow his instincts no matter what logic dictated.”
“I was just thinking the same about you,” Damien said, “but I was thinking in terms of his hardheaded tendencies.”
“I’d say you’re both acting like Dad,” Tague said. “But I don’t see that as a bad thing. Nine times out of ten, Dad came out on top of any venture he attempted.”
“So it’s a draw,” Durk said. “As far as I know, both corporate jets are available tonight and tomorrow.”
“They are,” Damien said. “I checked this morning. I’ll take the smaller one.”
“What about a pilot?”
“I’ll do the flying.”
“I can go as backup,” Tague said.
“I’d rather you stay here at the ranch and run interference in case the sheriff shows up. If he does, tell him we’re in Dallas checking out a lead on the baby’s father. Make it sound good. We’re telling Mother the same. Keeps things less complicated.”
“Lying to the law is serious,” Durk reminded him.
“Believe me, if this eventually comes down the way I hope it will, Sheriff Garcia will just be begging for a bit role in the movie.”
“Then level with us soon,” Durk said. He put a hand on Damien’s shoulder. “And take no risks. You got that?”
“I’ve got it,” Damien said. “Oh, and by the way, Tague—I need you to give that speech for me tomorrow night.”
Tague grimaced. “Not only do I miss the excitement and the trip with a gorgeous woman, I get stuck at a podium giving your stuffy speech.”
“Yep,” Damien said, “but then who said life was fair?”
* * *

 

THEY LEFT THE RANCH AS soon as Carolina returned from teaching her Sunday School class. As Damien had suggested, she’d quickly volunteered to cancel her plans for the next two days for a chance to babysit Belle.
That put them in Dallas by noon. Fortunately for Emma, Damien had to make a quick stop at the offices of Lambert Inc. and had asked if she wanted to go with him or be dropped off at a nearby shopping center.
She jumped at the chance to shop. Emma was thankful for Carolina’s clothes loans, but she was eager to pick up a few outfits of her own that actually fit. The first department that caught her eye was lingerie.
To her surprise, she was quickly seduced by a pair of lacy black panties and a matching bra that dipped low in front. And along with a pair of cute but sensible cotton pj’s, she chose an eye-popping hot-pink chemise.
Maybe she was starting to come back to life on every level.
She visited two more stores in the mall, and an hour later she’d also purchased new makeup, two pairs of jeans, two shirts, two sweaters, a pair of tennis shoes and a cute pair of pewter ballerina-style flats—all on sale.
Her one splurge had been a flirty little black dress from a selection of cruise clothing so that she wouldn’t embarrass Damien at dinner tonight if they happened to go to some swanky restaurant.
He was waiting for her in the coffee shop where he’d told her he’d meet her, talking on his cell phone and nursing a cup of coffee. He broke the connection when he saw her and stood to greet her.
“Judging from the packages, I’d say you found everything you were looking for.”
“Yes, did I take too long?”
“I was about to send out the search dogs,” he said, reaching to relieve her of the packages.
“I’m sorry.”
“And I’m kidding. That’s the good thing about owning the plane. You don’t have to worry about it leaving without you. And there’s one more shop we should visit.”
She followed his lead through the mall, practically running to keep up with his long stride. He stopped at the entrance to a store selling nothing but Western boots and hats.
“Look around,” he said, “and see what you like.”
“Boots are not in my budget. I have to make the money I have left last until I land a job. That could take a while since I have zero references.” And going back to her old job was out of the question since that was the first place Caudillo would look for her.
“The boots and hat are my treat,” Damien said.
She shook her head. “Accepting your help is one thing. Accepting expensive gifts is out of the question.”
“Who said anything about expensive? Besides, you can’t live on a ranch and not have boots and a Western hat.”
“I don’t live on a ranch. I’m visiting one.”
“And everybody who visits the Bent Pine has to carry their weight. That means brushing the horses, cleaning the stables, maybe even mending a fence or two. Boots are a basic necessity.”
She picked up a pair and looked at the price printed on the bottom of the sole. “People actually pay that for boots?”
“Alligator,” Damien said. “Nice for dress wear, but not very practical. Sit down and we’ll have the salesman bring out a few pairs for you to try. You need the fit to be right in Western boots. Otherwise, your toes get squeezed.”
“I don’t know how or when I can pay you back.”
“Sometimes a smile and a simple thank-you are all the payback a man wants or needs.”
“I’ll work at remembering that.”
* * *

 

“NOW, THIS IS WHAT I CALL an airplane.”
Damien smiled and stood back for her to enter the cabin. “It does the job.”
She hesitated for a second, as a terrifying thought popped into her head. Ten months ago she’d stepped onto a lavish yacht and into hell. At the time, she’d known Caudillo as long as she’d known Damien now.
Her legs grew weak and she started to shake.
Damien grabbed her arm to steady her. “Are you okay?”
This was Damien, not Caudillo. And he hadn’t coaxed her onto the plane. She’d demanded that he let her go with him.
She knew his family. She’d left an innocent baby with his mother. She took a deep breath and regrouped. “Just a bit of déjà vu.”
He muttered a curse. “You’re thinking about the kidnapping.” He tugged her around to face him and used his thumb to nudge her chin so that she was forced to meet his gaze. “Are you afraid of me, Emma?”
She read the incredulous look in the smoky depths of his eyes, and the truth hit so hard she felt dizzy. She wasn’t only unafraid, she was falling hard for him. She could no longer convince herself it was a gratitude-based attraction. In spite of all she’d been through, or perhaps because of it, she’d let him into her heart.
“I’m not afraid of you, Damien. I just had a mini meltdown for a second there.”
“Good, because if you’re afraid of me, then I’ve done something terribly wrong to mislead you. But if you harbor a shadow of doubt about going on this trip with me, we can get off this plane right now and Tague can come and get you.”
“No doubts.” Except about her ability to cope with the tangled emotions that overrode her good sense.
“Tell me about the plane,” she said, hoping to guide the conversation into safer territory.
“It’s new. We—or rather Lambert Inc.—bought it after Dad’s plane went down. Not that aircraft malfunction caused the crash that killed him, nor was he even in one of our planes. But his death emphasized the need for getting the safest small corporate jet on the market. The one we previously owned was getting on in years.”
“Do you use it much in the ranching business?”
“More than you’d think. We do some innovative work at the ranch in feeding, breeding and even marketing, so I do quite a bit of guest lecturing at colleges with advanced animal-husbandry programs. And I like to see what ranchers in other parts of the country are doing, as well.
“We use it more frequently in the oil business, though. We own a larger jet, too, for moving personnel. Oddly, it comes out cheaper in the long run than constantly booking last-minute flights to drilling areas or chartering planes to handle hurricane preparedness when a storm kicks up in the Gulf.”
“Are you involved in the oil part of Lambert Inc.?”
“I’m part owner, so I sit in on major decision making, though Durk’s the CEO. He’s always taken to that part of the business. Tague and I both love ranching. Dad left the business entirely to Mother, but she immediately split it four ways so that she, Tague, Durk and I all own equal shares.”
“Ranching and oil. Isn’t that an unusual mix?”
“Not in Texas. The ranch was in our family for generations, so when oil was discovered on the land, my grandfather expanded into drilling operations, as well.”
“A good move,” she acknowledged.
“The company’s had its ups and downs, but then most do. Enough about business. All you have to do for the next few hours is sit back and relax. We’ll stop and refuel near the halfway mark. The flight plan is already filed.”
Emma dropped into a padded leather seat while Damien stored his small duffel and the stylish overnight bag Carolina had lent her.
She took a closer look at the plane’s interior. There were oval windows and seating for six, and she could tell that four of the chairs reclined. It was much roomier and more comfortable than she’d expected of a plane this size.
“Toilet is in the front. There are refreshments in the back, though I’m not sure what. And there are usually some magazines in that small cabinet above the coffeepot.”
“You sound as if you’re planning to parachute out and leave me on my own.”
“I’ll be busy in the cockpit.”
“Doing what?”
“Flying the plane. Though, to be honest, this baby practically flies herself.”
“You’re the pilot?”
“And you thought all I could do was ride horses and brand cattle.”
“You constantly surprise me.”
“And I’m just getting started. So sit back and buckle up. Weather’s good all the way. You’re in for one smooth ride.”
BOOK: Son of a Gun
8.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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