Destiny Wears Spurs (18 page)

“Rafferty told me about the problems you were having. He thinks you suck, but he’s too nice a guy to tell you. Lucky for you, I offered to come and help, keep the old man from finding out.” Wendell had his best sympathetic look plastered across his face. “I asked him not to say anything to you, just to let you go on believing you’d be heading up his campaign instead of me if he chooses to go with us. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Only mistake I ever made was believing in you. I won’t make the same mistake again. And I don’t believe you about Cody. He wouldn’t do something that underhanded. If he wanted me gone, he’d be up front about it.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, so get used to it. You’re bound to mess up, and when you do, I’ll be right there to show ‘Daddy’ you can’t do this as well as I can. He’s a business man first, Monica. He won’t risk everything he’s worked for just because you’re his blood.”

“Bring it on, but don’t be surprised when I kick ass.” Wendell made her doubt herself, her father, Cody, hell, everything. Then again, he was good at that.

“What’s the matter? You look a little worried. Did I strike a nerve, darling?”

“No, you struck gold in the bastard department
, darling
. You make me sick. I can’t believe I ever said yes to marrying you.”

He pulled her in close, and his mouth hovered a smidgen away from hers. Before she could pull back and slap his face, he jerked away. Someone’s hand caught her elbow in a gentle grip so she wouldn’t tumble to the ground.

“I believe this dance is mine,” Cody ground out between clenched teeth. His eyes dared Wendell to say otherwise.

She sucked in a breath. Cody was here? Why? Her heartbeat picked up speed. Where had he come from?

Wendell narrowed his eyes and a cool film formed over them. “You sure about that? Let’s ask the lady and see what
she
says.

Like there was any question. She cleared her throat and found her voice. “Wendell Thorndike meet Cody Rafferty.” She wasn’t surprised in the least when Wendell’s bravado vanished.

A calculating gleam came into his eye as he stuck out his hand. “My mistake. Pleased to meet you, sir.”

Cody refused to shake his hand.

“Well, Monica, it was good to see you again. Keep up the good work.” Wendell looked at her, but she glared at him with disgust until he turned and walked away.

The weasel. He didn’t care about her. It was all about the job, same as always. Her instincts had been right. She’d do well to watch her back while he was here.

“Nice outfit.” Cody’s gaze traced over her body, and she had the feeling he was staring at more than her clothes. “Can’t say the same for your taste in men.”

Still angry over the way he’d blown her off lately, she snapped, “No, you can’t say.” She poked him in the chest. “You don’t have a say in whom I date or sleep with. You made that clear this past week.” She began to march away when he spun her around and pulled her to him.

“Not so fast. I’m here now.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

“Well, maybe now is too little too late,” she whispered, trying not to sound breathless. Then she tried to push him away without causing a scene, but he pulled her in closer, if that was possible.

Lord, it felt good pressing up against all those solid muscles, being surrounded by arms so strong they could crush her. They cradled her instead, making her feel protected and safe.

“That’s not the signal you’ve sent all week. Admit it, Miss Hammond. You want me, and I want you. Why fight it anymore?”

Why, indeed,
she thought, glad he’d finally come to his senses. “Well, it’s about time, cowboy.” She slipped her arms up his chest and around his neck. This was what she wanted, but she wondered what had changed his mind as she leaned in to kiss him. A blast of whisky rocked her back on her heels. “You’re drunk?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He dropped his arms from around her. “I haven’t had a drink all night.”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that? You reek.” Disappointment swamped her. He only wanted her because he was drunk. That was almost as bad as Wendell only wanting her for her father’s company. Her doubts were closing in, clouding her mind, making it hard to think straight. Maybe Wendell was right. Maybe Cody did think she sucked, but he didn’t have the nerve to tell her.

“Oh, that. It’s not what you think. I was--”

“I should have known.” She cut him off, not listening to him, and began to pace. “You didn’t want me before, now all of the sudden you’re all over me. It has to be the alcohol. Or maybe you’re just like Wendell.”

“I never said I didn’t want you before. I--”

“‘I believe this dance is mine’? Ha. That’s a joke. If you have to be bombed to finally sleep with me, then to hell with you.” God, she felt like a fool. She wasn’t that desperate no matter how she felt about him.

“You know what, forget it. You don’t want to hear a word I have to say. Your loss, Miss Hammond,” he growled, and her head snapped up when his words registered. “Why don’t you go find yourself another cowboy to sleep with? Isn’t that what you city women do?” He turned and stomped off in the direction of the cattle barn.

“Good,” she yelled after him. “My thoughts exactly.”

He didn’t turn around to look at her, just shook his head and kept walking until he disappeared over the hill. She stood frozen, staring after him. How had everything gone so wrong?

“Didn’t you see him? He’s been here all night. I thought you knew. I was carrying a couple of drinks when he saw that slicked-up dude try to kiss you. Man, I didn’t know Cody could move that fast. He ran right into me, spilling the drinks all over us both. So where is he?”

“Gone. Probably for good,” she mumbled. “I’m a complete idiot.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot. You’ve made quite the ranch hand.”

She looked up at him and scowled. “Oh, now, that’s laughable. I couldn’t even ride a horse, much less do barn ... well, I did learn how to ride Snoozer, and Buggy likes me.” She smiled. “Thanks, Hank.”

“Hey, darlin’, that’s what friends are for.”

“Not just friends, special friends.” She kissed his cheek, and he flashed his famous dimples.

“Always a pleasure.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Now, I see a redhead with my name on her lips.” He raised his eyebrows in question.

Monica smiled and nodded, watching as he swaggered over and draped his arm around the redhead’s shoulders, and the woman swooned into him. He really was outrageous.

Maybe it was time to be a little outrageous herself.

* * *

Wendell watched Monica march off on the path between the trees after Mr. Rafferty. He’d bet his career that those two were involved. Not that he cared, except it interfered with his plans to sabotage her.

He started making his way through the throng of people on the dance floor in their direction when his cell phone rang. “What’s up?” he asked, stepping off to the side and plugging one ear so he could hear.

“I’m trying. I expected Monica to fail by now, but the little bitch is actually functioning in Hicksville.” Someone bumped him in the arm, and he nearly dropped his phone, scowling at the moron.

“If you don’t get that promotion, there go all of our plans to pay Hammond back. I want to see him suffer for what he did to me.”

“Don’t worry about it. A friend on the inside at Worldwide Pharmaceuticals owed me a favor, so I collected by getting the testing of their new drug stalled, simple as that. Mess up the testing, stall Federal approval, which means Rafferty is up. She’ll never pull this campaign off in time.”

“Who’s this ‘friend?’ You aren’t getting in over your head, are you? If you get arrested, I’ll die before you get out. All I ask is to live long enough to see justice. Hammond has to pay.”

Wendell hardened his eyes. “You will. I promise. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.”

“That’s my boy.”

“Yeah, well, let’s hope my fate isn’t the same as yours.” He wove his way between the hip grinding, boot stomping, hideous country line-dancers.

“It won’t if you don’t mess up again. As much as I hated the thought of you marrying the spoiled brat, I have to admit she was our in. Had you not slipped up, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

Wendell stopped walking. “The only reason she got suspicious was because someone kept calling me at work. You’d think you would have learned by now,” he snapped.

“Don’t get mouthy with me, boy.” The old man fell into a coughing fit.

Guilt swamped Wendell. “Sorry, just take it easy, would you? As long as I can convince Hammond that I’m better than Monica, we’re golden. You know him. He’s going to do what’s best for the company before he considers what his daughter wants. Once I’m in, it’s only a matter of time before we can take over and finish him off once and for all.”

“I won’t.” Wendell snapped his phone closed just as a big-bosomed woman with crooked teeth and glasses blocked his path and smiled up at him.

The woman scowled and flounced away, her rolls jiggling as she moved. They grew some pretty nasty country bumpkins around here. How could anybody actually want to live in a place like this? Besides, he had more important things on his mind right now. Like what Monica was up to. Maybe she thought she could use sex to sway Rafferty into liking her slogans.

Wendell cleared the dance floor and had almost made it to the opening in the woods where she had disappeared, intending to keep her from spending any time alone with Rafferty.

“Whoa there, partner.” A hand draped over his shoulder and spun him in the opposite direction. “The bar’s this way.”

“No thanks. I think I’ll head back to my cabin.”

“Cabins are this way, too.” The old man grinned, but his eyes sported a hard gleam. “Name’s Jake. It’s tradition for all the dudes to have a drink with the cowboys when they first arrive. I don’t believe we’ve had our drink, now have we?”

“Well, no, but I--”

“You wouldn’t want to insult our tradition, would you?” He arched a grizzly brow, reminding Wendell of a predator. The old cowboy didn’t look like much, but Wendell knew looks could be deceiving. This guy meant business.

“‘Sides, I wouldn’t sleep well knowing you were meanderin’ around in the woods alone. All kinds of things can happen in the woods if you don’t know what you’re doing. It’d be a right shame if something bad happened to a nice fella like yourself, don’t you think?”

“I guess I have time for one drink.” The old geezer might be protecting her, but it wasn’t over yet. Wendell didn’t give up that easy. Monica would be sorry she ever turned on him.

He’d make sure of it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Drunk. How the hell could Monica think he only wanted her because he was drunk? She wouldn’t let him say a goddamn word in his defense. Christ, that pissed him off. Cody had done a lot of dumb things in his life, like getting involved in this phony deal for one, but if he was going to drink her out of his system, he’d damn well do it in private. He wouldn’t make an ass of himself and ruin Cassie’s party.

He’d thought Monica knew him better than that. Apparently not. “Forget it.” He unscrewed a flask of whisky he’d snagged from one of the cowboys on his way to the barn. “Forget her.” She thought he was drunk? He’d show her drunk.

He took a healthy first swig and felt the amber liquid burn its way down to his belly. Cody enjoyed an occasional longneck, but every now and then circumstances called for something stronger. He couldn’t believe Wendell had the balls to show up on his ranch. The man was persistent, he’d give him that. Too bad he didn’t know the campaign didn’t matter, but Hammond insisted no one know but Cody and himself. The weasel was out to sabotage her. That much was clear. Damn fool was only sabotaging himself by showing his true colors.

Well, hell. Tonight’s a whisky night, after all.
From this moment on, he was done with the whole fling idea.

A crash echoed through the quiet barn as Monica held her head high and plowed through the doors, slamming them open in her wake. A couple horses nickered and stomped in their stalls and then settled down.

Cody damn near gave himself whiplash and almost fell off his bale of hay. The silver flask of whisky slipped from his fingers and landed on the wooden floor with a thud. He cursed as the perfectly good liquor pooled at his boots.