Rancher's Covert Christmas. Beth Cornelison

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       Yes, Officer, I know how fast I was driving. Just write me the ticket.

       Yes, DMV worker, that is how much I weigh. I love cheese.

       Yes, little sister, those pants make you look fat. Stick with the black pair.

      “Oh, sorry. Not Bill. I meant the assistant editor,” Erin countered with what she hoped was a casual-sounding laugh. She scrolled down the staff bio page to the next listing. “Claire Norris is who I queried.”

      She should call her client back and refuse this job. While the case intrigued her, the ground rules gave her too much consternation.

      “Well...” Zane said and sighed. “A positive article in a travel magazine would be good publicity.” He paused. “Though I hate to remind people of the accident. I’d rather let bygones be bygones regarding that dark chapter of our past.”

      Erin wanted to tell Zane that dark chapters were never truly history for anyone. They shaped you, changed you, marked your life forever. But such grim prophesying wasn’t likely to win her points in her appeal to Zane, so she tucked her personal experience with tragedy away and focused on her sales pitch.

      “Yes, the article would definitely be good publicity. Which leads me to my special request.”

      “A request?” His guarded tone was back.

      A shame. She much preferred the casual, flirty baritone. She tried to imagine the face that went with the seductive voice. Typically she didn’t research the subjects of her investigations before meeting them. She trusted her instincts about people, and first impressions, uncolored by personal histories, social media or biased articles, were at the heart of how she operated. She researched businesses, places and things, but people required face-to-face meetings. That intangible but all-important vibe she got by looking people in the eye.

      Which brought her back to...

      “Yes. I’d like to visit the ranch. Conduct interviews. Get a firsthand look at the business, a feel for the locale. Would it be possible for me to come out there for a week or two? I know it’s right before Christmas, but I’m on deadline.”

      “Uh,” he grunted. Clearly she’d caught him off guard. “When?”

      “I can be there Monday.”

      Dang it. Her curiosity was tickling her. Thrashing her, really. She had to know the face that went with that voice! She hesitated only a moment before opening her Facebook account and doing a search for Zane McCall.

      “So soon?” he asked. “I don’t know. We’ve got a busy couple weeks leading up to Christmas. It’s the end of the season, and we’ll be sorting the herd in preparation to go to auction.”

      Several Zane McCalls popped up on her screen, and she scanned the list looking for the one whose information matched Mr. Sexy Voice’s. He was third on the list. Boyd Valley, CO. Rancher/Adventurer.

      Single. That tidbit excited her more than it should.

      “I promise not to get in the way. In fact, I’d love to see the sorting process. If it is key to the ranch business, then it will be great fodder for the article.”

      “I thought you said the focus of your story would be the adventure ranch.”

      She couldn’t tell anything about Zane’s appearance from the thumbnail profile picture in the list. She chewed her bottom lip, debating, and her finger hovered over her mouse. Curiosity won. She clicked his listing, and his profile page opened.

      “Erin?”

      She jolted as if she’d been caught snooping in his underwear drawer and slapped her laptop closed. “Oh, uh, right! It is. But I want a complete picture of the ranch and your operations.”

      Speaking of pictures... She opened the laptop again, and his Facebook page filled the screen. She zoomed in on his profile picture and caught her breath.

      OMG. The photo was of a dark-haired cowboy with a strong, square jaw, wide shoulders and piercing blue eyes. He wore a gray Stetson, a tight T-shirt and a pensive look that sent shivers to her core. Oh, yes. The face matched the voice.

      “How much input would we have over what appeared in the final article?” he asked.

      Drawing her attention back to her conversation took all of her concentration. Even after she closed the web page, she saw the image of Zane McCall, as if he’d been burned onto her retinas.

      She exhaled a cleansing breath, fighting to bring her scattered pulse back under control.

      “Pardon?”

      “How much editorial input would we be allowed?” Zane repeated.

      Since there would never really be an article, she supposed that point was moot. But because she was selling herself, for the time being, as a journalist, she figured her answer needed to reflect a journalistic standard. “Well, I would, of course, want to be sure all of my facts were correct, but beyond that, I would have the last say over my writing. A good journalist can’t allow outside influences to dictate the content of her work.”

      “So what assurance do I have that you’re not planning to trash us and get readers by writing some sensational, scandal-mongering thing about the recent events at our ranch?”

      Erin settled back in her sofa cushions, intrigued by Zane’s wariness.

      “You don’t,” she said bluntly.

      She knew his family, the ranch, his new business had been through some rough times. That was why she’d been hired. Maybe his skepticism was understandable, but his distrust of her didn’t bode well for the mission for which she had been hired.

      “All you have is my promise, my word that I have no intention of hurting your family or causing your business any grief.” That much was true, and it felt good to be able to be completely honest in that regard. “I want to help your family get the Double M and McCall Adventure Ranch back on track, not derail you.”

      Zane was silent, and, conjuring the Facebook picture of him again, she could easily imagine him brooding, mulling his options. Square jaw set. Black eyebrows drawn down in meditation over those pale blue eyes. How would she handle working with him every day during her assignment at the ranch? She’d need to get a handle on her giddy attraction to him. Be professional. Not get distracted.

      “Your word?” His doubt was obvious in his heavy tone.

      “I know you have no reason to trust me, but it is the best I can offer.” Sensing she might have underestimated her ability to sell her cover, she searched for additional arguments to sway him.

      Before she could launch into a further spiel, he said, “I’m willing to have you come and get a look at the adventure ranch operation. We’ve made changes, repairs and are planning a relaunch in the spring.”

      She released her breath. “Great! I can be there—”

      “But—” he cut in, his voice firm and commanding. A delicious shiver slid through her. His take-charge, alpha-male authority was sexy. She liked a man who knew what he wanted СКАЧАТЬ