The Rancher's Runaway Princess

“It was a case of knowing someone who knew someone, that was all.”

Brody’s jaw tightened. First she’d called his house “homey” as if she couldn’t come up with a better word. Then she’d all but admitted she’d got her job by knowing someone. Nepotism. He despised the word. It reminded him of someone else. Someone who’d once considered Prairie Rose Ranch a little too rustic for her taste. His fingers tightened around the handle of his cup.

Mrs. Polcyk put plates of warm strudel in front of them and bustled away to the refrigerator. Brody examined the square and told himself to forget it. It didn’t matter who or what Lucy Farnsworth was. She was not Lisa, and all that mattered was concluding their business. Being allied to the House of Navarro and King Alexander was what was important. It would mean great things for the ranch and the breeding program he’d worked so hard to improve since taking over.

Brody cut a corner off with his fork and popped the buttery pastry into his mouth. “Cherry. God bless her.” He sighed with appreciation.

Lucy smiled thinly, almost as if she were unaccustomed to it. What he really wanted to know was more about King Alexander and his plans. Allying himself to one of the greatest stables in Europe would be a huge coup. He’d be able to grow his breeding program the way he wanted, really put Prairie Rose on the map. He owed that to his father. He owed it to himself, and to Mrs. Polcyk.

“What’s it like? Working for someone so high profile?”

Lucy picked up her own fork to hide her surprise. Briefly she’d sensed Hamilton’s withdrawal and got the uneasy feeling he was somehow mad at her. Now he was asking questions. Prying veiled in small talk. If he really wanted to know about her, all he’d have to do was a bit of navigating online and he’d get the whole story. She would have to give him enough to keep him from doing that, and not enough to let the cat out of the bag.

She was in such a quandary that she took a second bite of strudel before answering, pressing the buttery layers with her tongue, letting them melt. She’d been around a lot of livestock men in her life, and conversation was usually not one of their finer points. She had to acknowledge that he was making an effort, and for the sake of amicability, she considered how to answer.

Working for King Alexander was stifling at times, knowing why she was there in the first place. Being told she belonged there, when she knew she didn’t. Yet it was glorious at others, like when she got to go riding through the fields without asking permission. Being able to hand pick her own mount, with no restrictions. That little slice of freedom was all that had kept her sane.

She couldn’t reveal any of that to Hamilton, not if she wanted him to respect her capabilities. Not if she wanted him to see her as more than Daddy’s girl flirting around with the horsies. She knew ranchers. Knew that was exactly what he’d think.

She squared her shoulders and forced a smile.

“His Highness has fine stables and the best in facilities and equipment. His tack room alone is half the size of your barn, all of it gleaming and smelling of rich leather. Navarro horses are in demand all over Europe, from riding horses for the privileged to show jumpers to racing stock. His staff is dedicated and knowledgeable. It’s a manager’s dream come true.”

“But?”

She put down her fork slowly, met his eyes while pursing her lips in puzzlement. “What do you mean, ‘but’?”

“But what are you leaving out?”

“Nothing. It’s a great operation.”

“Then why aren’t you meeting my eyes when you tell me about it?”

“I beg your pardon?” She felt color rise in her cheeks and took a deliberate sip of her cooling coffee. She’d been deliberately vague, and now he was calling her on it. She never had been good at hiding her feelings. Her mother always said Lucy had no face for poker and that Lucy had come by it honestly, as she hadn’t had one, either. It had been years before Lucy understood what she’d really meant.

“You’re avoiding looking at me. My mother always said that was a sign of a liar.”

She bristled. An hour. She’d known him barely an hour and he was calling her a liar! The mug came down smartly on the countertop. He couldn’t know who she really was. And if he did, pretending he didn’t was downright rude. Mrs. Polcyk looked over, then calmly went back to cutting vegetables.

“Are you accusing me of something?”

“Of course not. I’m just wondering what you’re not saying. This is my operation and my stock you’re looking at. I don’t get to travel to Marazur to check things out first. And when I get a sense that there’s more to a story, I want to know before I sign anything on a dotted line.”

She stood up from her stool. Dammit, even sitting he was slightly taller than she was. “You’re insinuating that I’m withholding something about the Navarro stables. I don’t appreciate that. The hotel is looking better and better. Navarro stables doesn’t need Prairie Rose Ranch, not as much as…” She looked around her and then back into his face, lifting her chin. “Not as much as you need Navarro. You aren’t the only stud operation in the world.”

The anger felt good, releasing. Even if she knew provoking him would be a tactical mistake.

His eyes glinted like dark shards. “Perhaps not. But I was under the impression King Alexander wanted the best.”

She met his gaze, admiring his confidence despite how annoying it was.

“And you’re the best, I suppose.”

“You wouldn’t have come all this way if I weren’t.”

Her lips thinned. He had her to rights there. She had come a long way, and it was all to do with Hamilton’s Ahab. That horse was the main reason she was here, as well as having the discretion to negotiate further stud fees and even add to Navarro with Prairie Rose stock.

“You’re very sure of yourself.”

“Don’t get all in a dander over it. You described the stables like a brochure would, that’s all. I’m just curious to know more. I like to know who I’m dealing with.”

His implacable calm fueled her temper. Who was he to question the integrity of Navarro? She shoved her hands in her pockets to keep them from fidgeting. She knew she shouldn’t rise to the bait but with the exhaustion and surprising emotionalism, she seemed incapable of ignoring it. “All you need to know is that I’m here to do a job. A job I’m more than qualified to do. Nothing else is up for discussion.”

She spun to walk away, but his voice stopped her.

“Run away, then.”

Everything inside her froze.

Run away? Her breath caught at his casual tone. If only she could. If only she could run away from what her life had become. She was so sick of everyone telling her how wonderfully things had turned out in the end. It didn’t feel that way at all. Everything, everything she thought she’d known had been taken away with one conversation. Life had changed irrevocably, and right now all she could see was what she’d lost along the way.

Her job. Her home. Her mother.

Yes, she wished she could run away. But instead she was back to trying to prove herself and find something to anchor her again so she wouldn’t feel as if she were drifting in this endless sea of loss and grief. And that something was her job at the stables, and her task was clear: the breeding program here at Prairie Rose.

And that meant that in the present she had to somehow deal with Brody Hamilton.

She turned and looked at him, sitting there, his black eyes watching her keenly, waiting for a response. Waiting as if he could see through every wall she’d built around herself and knew what she was hiding on the inside.

And for one brief, irrational moment she did want to run. Not away, but into the circle of his arms. They looked like strong arms, arms a woman could get lost in and forget the rest of the world existed. For months now she’d been standing on her own and she was tired. Tired of feeling she had to apologize for not being happy. Tired of pretending, when all she wanted was life back the way she’d had it. Tired of knowing even the past she’d thought secure had been based on a lie. For a few moments she wondered what it would be like to rest her head on his strong shoulder and just be. To let someone carry the weight for a while.

She swallowed. This was ridiculous. She hardly knew him and what she did know she resented. It had to be exhaustion, it was the only reason that made sense to her. There was no other reason for her to feel drawn to Brody Hamilton. None at all.

Looking at him…he just knew where he belonged. He was solid and steady, and he fit in a way she never had.

That was reason enough to resist the urge to step into his arms. Reason enough to resent him for all he had and the fact that he probably didn’t even know it. The thought of stepping into his embrace was laughable.

This was a man who’d just questioned her integrity. She should be taking him down a peg. Instead she was bone tired of all of it. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and something intimate curled through her core. She mentally took a step backward.

“It’s hardly productive for us to argue,” she said, as icily as she could muster. “I believe you were right about the jet lag. I’m not myself. If you’ll excuse me…I’m sure by tomorrow I’ll be squared away and ready to get to work.”

His eyes revealed nothing.

“Of course.” The words were cold with empty manners.

“I’ll take you up, dear.” Mrs. Polcyk came around the corner with a gentle smile. Lucy turned her back on Brody again, forcing yet another smile for the kindly housekeeper. She could still sense his dark eyes on her, and they made her feel naked.

“You’ll be wanting a nice hot bath, and a good meal—dinner’s not far off.”