Jennifer Morey - A Rancher's Dangerous Affair

“Do you have anything to drink?” David headed for the kitchen entry without waiting for Brandon’s reply.

He’d had enough to drink on the plane already.

“You know where the wine is,” Brandon said drily.

David left the kitchen, no doubt planning on getting more than one bottle. Why was he drowning in alcohol lately? Was it his perception of his older brother and Eliza or something else? The car on the hill gave her some insight, but he wouldn’t talk to her. They’d never talked, not the way they should as a married couple. More and more she thought their marriage was a sham, the result of blind impulse. While a deeper part of her had reasoned he was the next best thing to Brandon, reality hadn’t been kind. The mistake she’d made expanded and bloomed. As much as it hurt, she was better off alone than marrying the wrong man.

Realizing she was still staring at the empty doorway David had gone through, Eliza turned and caught Brandon watching her. His gaze drifted down her body before going back to her face. He seemed neither hurried nor concerned what she or Jillian would think of such blatant inspection. He hadn’t looked at her like that since she was a sophomore in high school; only now he was a man, not a boy. A warm rush swept over her, an instant reaction. He’d always been able to do that to her.

David entered the kitchen with three bottles of red wine and saw them. His steps faltered as he pinned Eliza with an accusatory look. Brandon glanced at Jillian before busying himself with retrieving wineglasses. She missed it, her glaring gaze on Eliza. David passed his wife on his way to the kitchen island, where he put down the bottles.

Eliza wandered past the kitchen island and stopped before the table, trying to dismiss the significance of the way Brandon had looked at her. What did it mean? Had he seen something when she’d been lost in thought? Did he know she wasn’t happy?

She spotted a newspaper on the table. The headline read Darby College Professor Melinda Grayson Missing.

“Here you go, darling.” David handed her a glass of red wine.

She smirked at the way he’d said darling and took the glass, holding the paper in her other hand.

“What are you—” He stopped short when he read the headline. “Professor Grayson is missing?” he took the newspaper from her.

“I heard her housekeeper reported it,” Jillian said.

David turned with the paper and kept reading as he strode slowly to the kitchen island, putting down the paper. “It says she might have been on her way to the grocery store when she was taken.”

Eliza followed him and put her glass down. David had placed the three bottles of wine on the counter. Brandon and Jillian had yet to pour wine into their glasses.

“She didn’t leave willingly,” Brandon said. “She had all her material ready for the semester.”

“Who would kidnap her?”

David’s concern didn’t pass by Eliza. If Melinda wasn’t so much older than him, she’d wonder if he’d slept with her. Then again, ten years wasn’t all that much. Melinda was in her early forties.

“Probably someone who didn’t like her views,” Jillian said, nearly sneering. She obviously didn’t like Melinda.

“Did you go to Darby?” Eliza asked. The woman had to be around twenty-five so it was more than possible.

“Yes. And I hated Melinda’s class.”

Melinda was known for her controversial teachings. She was a feminist who thought men were superior and women’s movements had the wrong approach to gaining equality. Porn stars were true feminists because of the control they had over men. Sociopaths improved society. That sort of thing.

But Jillian’s tone hinted at deeper emotion. Brandon and David caught her animosity along with Eliza. Brandon said nothing as he assessed her, and David abandoned the newspaper to do the same.

“That sounds like motive to kidnap and hurt her,” David said.

Jillian’s chin rose an inch. “Just because she wasn’t my friend doesn’t mean I’d hurt her.”

David let it pass, lifting his wine for a drink.

Eliza saw how Jillian slid a self-conscious glance toward Brandon, as though anxious that he’d think less of her for voicing her opinion of the great Melinda Grayson. The sign of insecurity said a lot about the state of their relationship. Eliza almost felt sorry for her. Brandon must be close to running.

Brandon could tell Jillian wasn’t happy that Eliza and David were here at his ranch. Or maybe it was only Eliza she wished would disappear. Sitting at the kitchen table with the third bottle of wine empty, most of which his brother had consumed, he listened to Eliza talk about the Friday parties she used to plan during high school.

“The whole school loved you,” David said.

Brandon watched how Eliza remained stiff with the affectionate comment. He hadn’t missed how distracted she’d been when she and David had arrived. Something was going on between them. He hated the ray of hope that shot through him the instant he realized it. Why did he always have to fight his attraction to her? She was a stunning woman, but she hadn’t changed. She was still the Friday Party Girl. It was what had led to their breakup. It was what had taken her to Hollywood. She frequently appeared in entertainment news and had so many friends it made him dizzy. He often wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t always put her social life ahead of him.

Maybe that was what had come between her and David. His brother shared Eliza’s passion for a good time, but it was easy for her to forget a man in the process. He’d tried to warn his brother, but he was already headed down the same road as Eliza. Both of them lived for the party. Except for that nagging feeling that she’d somehow changed. The way she dressed. Her hair. Her makeup. All of it was more subdued. Why?

He stifled another ray of damn hope.

Eliza had been the kind of girl who stood out in a crowd. Intentionally. Brandon had been the opposite. Still was. They had never meshed that way. He preferred his secluded life on the ranch. Eliza would never thrive here. She may have matured over the years, but she was still Hollywood’s hottest party planner. She shined the brightest when she was the center of attention. She’d wilt away in the silence of Reed Ranch.

“Remember the one you threw at the park?”

Brandon was drawn back into the discussion. Jillian had been awfully quiet. He dreaded finding out why. He was afraid he already knew.

“Which one?” Eliza laughed.

Did she laugh because she was no longer that girl, or did the memory delight her? Either way, he was entranced. Unwillingly.

“The one that you couldn’t break up by ten.”

“Oh, yeah.” She nodded with the recollection. “You weren’t there, were you?”

His face lost its animation. “Yeah. You didn’t talk to me, though.”

Eliza turned away, rigid with whatever thoughts pressed her.

“I remember that night.” As soon as Brandon spoke, Jillian fidgeted beside him, pursing her lips and averting her face. He couldn’t reassure her. He had to be honest. And if he was honest, he’d admit he didn’t feel enough for her to pretend Eliza didn’t matter to him. She did. She just wasn’t the right woman for him. She was a friend. But Jillian wasn’t the right woman, either. Looking right at Eliza, he continued, “Two of the boys were angry that you kept telling them to leave.” he had stayed to make sure she was okay. He’d done that a lot with her. As wild as she was, she’d needed someone to look out for her.

Her striking blue-green eyes lifted, and he found himself back in time with her. Bumping into each other at the Smokin’ Burger. Kissing her on her front doorstep. Beating up boys for her…