The Rancher's Mistress

‘I’d better go and freshen up myself,’ said Margot. ‘You don’t need to go to any great trouble, by the way. Nobody does.’ She directed a bright-eyed smile at the other girl. ‘I’m really glad to have you here, Alex. The guests are fine, but they don’t stay around long enough to get to know all that well. Greg says you used to ride a lot. Do you still?’

‘Not as often as I’d like to,’ Alex acknowledged.

‘Well, you can catch up here. We’ve over seventy head to choose from. I don’t usually ride with the guests on short sessions, but I often go on the day-longs. They can be real fun.’

‘For some,’ commented Greg, bringing an apologetic expression to his wife’s face.

‘I know Cal’s been driving you hard, honey, but it’s only because he wants you to know how to run things, so that you can take over if needed.’

‘Sure he does.’ Greg didn’t try to hide the scepticism. ‘Anyway, it’s time we were out of here. You can fill Alex in on the rest of it later.’

Alex stayed where she was for a moment or two after they’d gone, a line between her brows as she reflected on the latter conversation. That Greg wasn’t too enthused about ranch work was apparent, yet what had he expected of life on a working ranch? It was probably true that in every relationship there was one who felt more than the other, but in his and Margot’s case the balance looked to be far too one-sided.

Shelving the matter for the moment, she moved to unlock one of the cases and extract her toilet bag and a wrap. First the shower, then she could decide what to wear for the evening.

There was no one in sight when she emerged onto the gallery, although she could hear voices coming from below. The bathroom proved both spacious and well-appointed, with a separate shower-cubicle in addition to the oversized bath. There were towels over the rails and more folded on racks above the bath, thick and soft and huge. Big country, big everything! she thought humorously.

As Greg had promised, there was no shortage of hot water. Accustomed to the low pressure back in her flat, she was almost knocked off her feet by the sheer force of it. Gasping, she turned the control down a couple of notches, glad of the cap protecting her hair. There wouldn’t have been time to dry it before supper and, while casual might be the order of the day, she certainly wouldn’t have felt comfortable sitting down to table with her hair dripping down her back.

Lulled by the warm flow, she stood for a few moments just enjoying it before starting to wash. Normally she cream-cleansed her face, in the interests of keeping her skin moisturised for the camera, but tonight she threw caution to the winds and applied a luxurious lather instead, relishing the feel of it, the fresh smell of it in her nostrils.

The sudden stinging pain as the suds found their way beneath her eyelids was excruciating. Eyes screwed up and watering, she rinsed off hastily and thrust open the shower door to grope for the towel she had left hanging on the convenient hook, only to feel it slide from her wet fingers onto the floor.

‘Let me help,’ said a deep male voice on a satirical note, freezing her where she stood.

Squinting through the tears, she saw the same lean and rangy figure she had watched earlier flick another towel from the rail in passing and the next moment was enveloped in it, with one free end offered in order for her to wipe her still streaming eyes.

Mingled embarrassment and anger conquered the pain. This was hardly the way she had anticipated meeting her host for the first time. He was making no attempt to move away, studying her with eyes the colour of burnished steel, a faint twist at the corners of his strongly defined mouth. A strong face altogether: skin taut over hard male cheekbones, jawline clean and forceful, the whole surmounted by a thick sweep of dark hair. At five feet nine in her bare feet, Alex considered herself a fair height, but he topped her by a good six inches.

‘Better?’ he asked.

‘Fine,’ she returned, struggling to hang onto some thread of composure. ‘Are you in the habit of just walking in on people?’

‘The door wasn’t locked,’ he said without apology.

‘You must have heard the shower running!’

‘Not through the door.’

‘So the least you could have done was back straight out again!’

‘You looked in need of assistance,’ he returned imperturbably. ‘Why the concern? I wouldn’t have thought you had any hang-ups about nudity in your line.’

Her first instinct was to hotly deny the implication, her second and more compelling one to poke him in the eye, if only metaphorically. He wasn’t the first to take it for granted that stripping down to the bare essentials was the only way to make a living in the modelling world, and he almost certainly wouldn’t be the last, but that didn’t make it any less aggravating.

‘I suppose you didn’t see anything you haven’t seen a thousand times before at that!’ she countered scathingly.

His lips widened in a brief, derisive smile. ‘A thousand might be stretching it a piece. If you’re through, I wouldn’t mind getting in there myself.’

‘By all means.’ Clutching the far from secure towel to her, Alex moved to pass him as he stepped to one side, promptly tripped over a trailing edge of towel and was saved from measuring her length only by the speed of Cal Forrester’s reactions. Held by the arm he had shot about her waist, with the slipping towel threatening to expose her assets to even closer scrutiny, she found dignity taking second place to the sudden vital awareness of his hard masculinity. ‘The head bull’, Greg had called him, but bulls were big and cumbersome, not lean and lithe. She felt her stomach muscles contract.

‘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?’