Her Last Chance. Deanna Talcott

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СКАЧАТЬ told him I was looking for stock for my family’s stables, and he promised I’d find just what I wanted. Um…he mentioned, too, that you’ve even got some stock that’s part mustang. That you’ve worked with some of the free-roaming mustangs that have been captured and relocated.”

      Chase frowned and glanced back at the barn, annoyed that he hadn’t taken time to close the door. It wouldn’t do for her to come across that lame-brained Peggy Sue. “Yeah. I have. But what’re you interested in for your stables? Specifically.”

      She looked like she was about to say something, then stopped. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve got?”

      Something about her answer sounded a little hollow and didn’t ring true. Experience told him buyers always knew what they wanted. They either needed broodmares or a good show horse. They wanted a stud to improve their stock or a pleasure horse for their kids. He glanced at her suspiciously, not quite believing she drove hundreds of miles just to browse through the merchandise.

      She paused, the hint of a frown clouding her features, darkening her eyes. “You were expecting me, weren’t you?”

      Chase inclined his head, vaguely wondering if he should have checked the answering machine again. At that precise moment something near his heart started vibrating. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought this Mallory woman had created the stir.

      He pulled the snap on his chest pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Excuse me,” he apologized, taking a step back and slightly turning his back.

      “Chase?” his partner, Bob Llewelyn, inquired.

      “Yeah?”

      “Sorry, buddy. I forgot to tell you Mallory Chevalle is headed your way. Put her up for a few days, will you? Show her around, give her a good time. Her daddy’s that shipping magnate, Hewitt Chevalle?” The realization hit Chase like a ton of bricks. From his peripheral vision, Chase narrowed a gaze at the woman who had politely turned away from eavesdropping on his call. “Mallory’s interested in buying some stock for the family’s estate in Narwhal.”

      “Well…thanks for the warning.”

      “No problem.”

      “She’s here now.”

      “Oh.” The word was small, precise and cautious. “The house isn’t a mess, is it?”

      “What do you think?” Chase snapped. “It’s a ranch house, not a guest house.”

      Bob coughed, letting a second of strained silence slip away. “Didn’t mean to inconvenience you,” he said finally, “but I figured we could use at least one client who wouldn’t quibble over the price.”

      Chase snorted. “I’ve got forty Morgans that need my attention. I haven’t got time to serve up a little luxury, like brunch at eleven and tennis at four. Sorry.”

      “Well, you know,” Bob went on, “the thing about Mallory is, she likes cowboy boots and leather jackets just fine. Put her to work. She won’t be in the way.”

      “Put her to work,” he repeated. “Is that before or after the beluga caviar, Brie cheese and vintage wine?”

      Bob guffawed. “Chase, you got it wrong. This is one woman that doesn’t need to be waited on. She won’t be any trouble at all.”

      “Right.”

      “Hey, I’m telling you. Money’s no object, not to the Chevalles of Narwhal. They’re loaded, but you’d never know it. And Mallory might be an heiress, and a hands-off woman, but she’s a real fine gal to spend some time with.”

      “I’ll file that away for future reference,” Chase said unpleasantly.

      “Do that. Keep her happy, Chase. It’ll be in the best interests of the Bar C.”

      Knowing he had no other choice but to give in, Chase ended the call. Although Mallory had discreetly turned her back, Chase regretfully wondered how much of the conversation she’d heard.

      She swiveled, her sandaled foot pivoting on the gravel. With her head down, she glanced up at him demurely, the corners of her almond-shaped eyes lifting slightly in amusement. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

      “My partner has a little trouble with some organizational skills. Like being on time, forwarding messages or paying the taxes when they’re due. It plumb slipped his mind to warn me that you were coming to look at stock, Miss…um…Chevalle.”

      “Mallory. Just call me Mallory.”

      He nodded tightly. “Narwhal,” he said thoughtfully. “Is that somewhere up near Monaco, or that neck of the woods?”

      “Close. At least it’s on that side of the ocean,” Mallory said, fighting the urge to grin at Chase Wells’s discomfort. American men were so peculiar when it came to Europeans and Old World money. They simply did not know how to handle it, how to behave or what to say. So, instead, they always swaggered a little and slipped into a “don’t mean nuthin’ to me” demeanor. A perverse thought went winging through her head, and Mallory gave in to it. “Did I hear you say something about tennis? We really should play a set. I’d love to see you in your whites on the court later this afternoon.”

      Chase stared at her. Not one muscle in his handsome face twitched—and he did have a handsome face. A shock of Cherokee-black hair swept back from his wide forehead and feathered away from his temples. It was cropped in neat arcs over his ears, with a scruffy little fringe riding his shirt collar. He had a thick jaw, blunt chin and a mouth that just managed to wander a little higher on the right side. Beneath a slash of dark lashes, his eyes were gunmetal gray.

      “Tennis? I thought you came out here to look at horses.”

      Mallory swallowed a giggle and carefully arranged her face for the rugged cowboy, feigning innocence. “Oh, I did. But tennis is such a great stress reliever, don’t you think?”

      He sucked in a deep breath, pumping his brawny chest up another intoxicating notch. Mallory could barely tear her gaze away. Considering her words, he hung his thumb over his pewter belt buckle while the toe of his boot swiped at a rock on the drive. “The thing is, ma’am, this here’s Wyoming. We don’t play them silly little games out here. And the only thing I got that’s white is my underwear.”

      Mallory laughed, even as a touch of pink stained her cheeks. “Then we should get along just fine. Because I haven’t had a racket in my hand for five years, and I never do brunch. The day’s half gone by then, and I like to get up early.”

      Chase hesitated, then his mouth curled and the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled.

      Mallory innocently lifted her shoulder. “Bob said you could put me up for a week or so. Until we settle on the horses.”

      Chase didn’t reply. He just looked at her, his eyelids narrowed, his brow furrowed.

      “I can sleep anywhere. Really.”

      “Mmm.” He didn’t sound convinced, he just kept looking at her, in that disturbing cowboy way, as if something else was going on in his head.

      “If you’ve СКАЧАТЬ