Corporate Cowboy. Pamela Bauer
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Название: Corporate Cowboy

Автор: Pamela Bauer

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия: Mills & Boon American Romance

isbn: 9781474009126

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ born and raised on the ranch, was accustomed to working through not only rain, but snow, sleet and ice. The guests at the Triple J, however, didn’t have her years of experience with the elements. They were urban cowboys who wanted to experience life on the ranch, which was why unless the rain stopped, the upcoming week would be one big muddy challenge.

      Because it was wet, the opening dinner was served in the dining room instead of outside around a campfire. All of the staff at the Triple J wore western wear, including Kacy and her sister, Suzy, who had on long denim skirts and fringed leather vests.

      Halfway through dinner, her brother Dusty said, “Someone has to go back to Grand Forks to pick up the last guest.”

      “What last guest?” Kacy asked warily.

      He didn’t so much as blink. “The one that’s coming in at nine-thirty.”

      “This isn’t the entire group?” she asked, surveying the crowd in the dining room.

      “Nope. There’s one more coming and someone has to go get him at the airport.”

      She set her fork down and fixed him with an inquisitive glare. “Since when do we make special trips for one?”

      “Since it’s the CEO—Mr. Austin Bennett himself.”

      Kacy groaned. “You should have told him to rent a car and drive out here if he couldn’t come with the others.”

      Dusty clicked his tongue. “That’s what Dad said.”

      “Well, for once I agree with Dad.”

      He rested his arm along the back of her chair and said, “Aw, come on, Kacy. You know you don’t mean that. If you did you wouldn’t be in charge of PR around here. You’re the one who’s always telling me how important it is to be accommodating.”

      Normally, Kacy wouldn’t have argued with her brother, but today she was feeling in no mood to cater to anyone, especially not a man in a suit. “I’m sorry, Dusty, you’ll have to forgive me, but I just don’t feel very accommodating today.”

      “Aw, Kace, I know it’s been a bad day, what with you getting that letter and all,” he sympathized. “But you can’t blame all the suits for what one man did.”

      She didn’t. But getting a Dear John—or a “Dear Joan” letter, as her sister Suzy had called it—made her feel as if she were entitled to be just a bit irrational today. “Gran always said that on any given day you’d find at least one Judd holding a grudge against someone or something. I guess today’s my day.”

      Dusty groaned. “Dad should never have encouraged you to go to New York.”

      But her father had urged her to go. Since childhood she had dreamed of living anywhere but on the ranch. She had been consumed with a need to explore the world outside of North Dakota, to soak up all the excitement she knew had to be happening in the big city. As soon as she had graduated college with her degree in art history, she went in search of that dream.

      She took a job in an art gallery where she discovered that the life she had fantasized was not all she expected it to be. As she gradually became less enchanted with the bright lights of the city, she began to realize that although she loved art, what she really wanted was to be with her horses in the wide open spaces of North Dakota. After three years she had packed up her things and moved home. Her only regret about leaving the city was that she had to leave the man she loved.

      At least she thought she had been in love with Steven Delancey. Now she knew that she should have ended their relationship when she had told him she was quitting her job and moving back to North Dakota.

      He hadn’t tried to convince her to change her mind. Instead he had acted relieved that she had made the decision to leave New York, telling her he would be able to get more work done if she wasn’t around to distract him. Kacy knew now that that’s all she had been—a distraction. An up-and-coming lawyer wanting to make partner in his law firm, Steven was focused—too focused. For him, work was more than a way to earn a living. It was an obsession.

      No woman would ever be number one in Steven’s life. Work would always come first, because his whole life centered around his profession. A wife and children would always take a back seat.

      It was not the kind of life Kacy wanted—to be second fiddle to a job. And she did want marriage and a family—something she wasn’t sure would ever be on Steven’s agenda.

      Six months ago she hadn’t wanted to admit that it was over. Now she could hardly believe it had taken her this long to let it go. The only reason their relationship had lasted as long as it did was because she had made it work, not because of any effort on his part. That’s why when his Dear Joan letter came she felt so angry. He was the one calling it quits when she was the one who had done all the work.

      Kacy had not been happy in New York, not just because of what had happened with Steven. She knew now that it had been foolish of her to think that working in a concrete and glass world would make her happy. She needed open spaces and fresh air. For that’s what was in her blood—the smell of leather and dust, the sight of cattle bunched in the corner of a pasture, waves of buffalo grass and sage, and sunsets that seemed to go on forever making one realize just how small a speck anyone is on this earth. Give her a man in jeans and boots any day over any of the suits pressing the city pavement. She preferred to live in a world of Levi’s and leather rather than wool and silk.

      “Didn’t anybody tell this suit that the reason the program works is because it’s a team effort? I say let him rent a car and drive out here himself,” she grumbled.

      “Kacy, be reasonable.”

      “Reasonable as in get in the van and go get him?” she asked dryly.

      “Doesn’t it beat reciting poetry around the campfire?”

      “It’s too wet for a campfire,” she reminded him.

      “Then we’ll have to have poetry around the fireplace.” He grinned. “Come on. Be a sport. Other than the orientation meeting, you won’t be missed this evening.”

      Kacy knew what he said was true. She was the public relations person at the Triple J which meant she usually saw to it that guests were comfortable at all times. Her other job was to give riding lessons and lead trail rides.

      “Please say you’ll do it,” he begged.

      She tried to give him the stubborn look the Judds were noted for, but failed. “All right. But I’m not taking that big old honkin’ van. I’ll drive my pickup.”

      “You can’t pick up a CEO in that beat-up old pickup!”

      Kacy didn’t appreciate anyone referring to Bertha as either “old” or “beat-up.” “Do you want me to do it or not?”

      Dusty handed her a white placard with “The Triple J” written across the front in large black letters. “You probably won’t need this, but better take it anyway.”

      “You’re lucky I have such a strong sense of family duty,” she mumbled as she took the placard from him.

      On her way out she grabbed a slicker from the coat room. It was a good thing because before she had reached the airport, rain fell in a СКАЧАТЬ