B.J. Daniels - Montana Royalty

“What about whoever’s been on my property snooping around?” Rory saw his expression. “You’re not going to do a thing, are you? Why am I not surprised?” She started to turn away from him, too angry to have this discussion with the pigheaded, son of a…

“Hold on, now,” Griff said grabbing her arm and turning her back to face him. “I’ll have a look around, okay?”

She jammed her fists on her hips and said nothing.

Apparently he seemed to think it best to follow her example and stepped past her to circle the house.

She thought about going into the house and letting him do his job, but she knew Griff. Tailing after him, she watched him wander around her ranch yard, looking bored and annoyed. He glanced back once to see if she was watching him. She was.

After a few minutes, he stopped his pretense of investigating and came back to where she was standing, her arms crossed over her chest.

“There’s some tracks where someone has been hanging around, all right,” he said.

“I believe I’m the one who told you that,” she said, trying to contain her temper. She was cold and tired and couldn’t wait for him to leave. It would be a cold day in hell before she called him out there again. Maybe when the sheriff got back…

The deputy sighed. “Look, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this very thing. I don’t like you living out here alone. I’m worried about you, Rory.”

She shot an eyebrow upward. “Why? Since you’re so sure I have nothing to worry about with my new royal neighbors…” She couldn’t help the sarcasm. His concern apparently only went so far.

“Damn it, Rory, you have no business trying to run this ranch alone and this proves it. By your own admission, you got caught in that storm last night. What if you hadn’t been able to get to the line shack? Or worse—what if you’d gotten bucked off your horse and hurt?”

She bristled. “I’m fine.”

Griffin was shaking his head. “I’m not sure you can trust your judgment on this. You aren’t behaving rationally, and you know it.”

If he only knew. “If you’re going to tell me you think I should sell the ranch—”

“You know you’re doing this out of sheer stubbornness. It would be different if you had a man around—”

“I’m in no mood for this.”

“I can see that you didn’t get much sleep last night,” he said. “Maybe this isn’t the best time to bring this up.”

“There is no good time if this is about me getting rid of the ranch,” she said with heat although she knew others in town had speculated on the same thing—if not bet on how long before she ran the place into the ground. What Griffin and everyone else didn’t seem to understand was that she loved the ranch and couldn’t bear to part with it.

Just this year, she’d sold off the cattle and leased the land, telling herself it was only temporary, just until she could get the ranch back in business.

“I’m not selling.” With that she turned and stomped toward the house.

“I wasn’t offering to buy the place,” Griff called after her. “I was asking you to marry me.”

Rory stumbled to a halt, his words pelting her like stones. Slowly she turned to look back at him.

“What?” she asked, telling herself she must have heard wrong. She’d turned him down for even a date. What would make him think she would marry him?

“We should get married.” He walked to her, kneading the brim of his hat in his fingers nervously as he approached. “I’d planned to ask you a lot better than this, but when you weren’t around this morning…I’m asking you to marry me.”

Her first indication was to laugh, but the deputy looked so serious…“Griff, I don’t know what to say.” That was putting it mildly.

“I know this is probably a little unexpected.”

You think?

“But I’ve been considering it for some time,” he continued, clearly nervous. “You need a man out here. You can’t run the place by yourself.”

She bristled at that. “Even if that were true, it’s no reason to get married,” she said, still stunned by his proposal.

“Hell, Rory, people get married every day with a whole lot less in common than the two of us. You and I have known each other all our lives. There shouldn’t be any surprises.”

Yeah, who’d want any surprises in a marriage? Or mystery? Or excitement? Or, say…love?

“Griff, I appreciate the offer, but I believe people should be in love when they get married. I don’t love you.” She hardly liked him after the way he used to tease and taunt her when they were kids.

“Love?” He snorted. “Like you’re one of those silly romantic types.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Come on, Rory. Look at you. The way you dress. The way you act. Hell, if someone saw you out in the pasture they’d take you for a cowhand rather than a woman.” He sounded angry with her.

For a moment, she was too shocked to speak. She might be a tomboy, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a woman under these clothes. She had a right to romance, love, passion. A redhot memory of last night in the shack leaped into her thoughts against her will. Talk about passion…

“You know what I mean,” he said, softening his words. “You’ve never acted like a woman.”

“If there is a compliment in there, I’m afraid I missed it,” she said, fire in her eyes.

“What are you getting all riled about?” Griff demanded. “I was just saying that you could do a whole lot worse than me.”

“I think you’ve said enough, Griff.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended.” She was. Not that everything he’d said wasn’t the truth. Obviously, she didn’t dress or act much like his idea of a woman. But under her damp dirty clothes, there was a woman’s body and a beating heart.

Her thoughts flashed to the groom she’d shared her horse blanket—and a lot more—with last night. He’d found her desirable, hadn’t he? True, he’d been drunk as a skunk and thought she was a forest sprite.

“Well, at least consider my offer,” Griff said irritably. “I’ll give you some time to think about it. But I could be the answer to your problems.”

“I don’t have any problems,” she snapped. Except Griff right then. “You and I are friends. ” A lie. “Let’s leave it at that.”

“Friends isn’t a bad place to begin a marriage.”

“My answer is no,” she said more forcefully.

“You are one mule-headed woman, you know that?”

“Thank you. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me this morning.” She turned again and headed for the house, calling over her shoulder, “Let me know about what you find out about my new neighbors.”

Once inside the house, the front door locked behind her, Rory waited until Griff drove away before she stripped off her damp clothing and stepped into the shower, hopping mad. Griff had caught her off guard with his ridiculous marriage proposal. But it was his description of her that had her fuming because she feared it was too close to the truth.

She’d been so involved in saving the ranch that maybe she had forgotten how to be a woman.

Until last night.

With dread, Devlin watched the horsemen approach. Jules Armitage, the head of royal security, rode in the lead, his back ramrod straight.

Devlin heard Armitage referred to as “Little Napoleon” behind his back. Small in stature but with an air of importance because of his long-standing position with the royal family, Jules was a man easily ridiculed.

But Devlin knew Jules Armitage was also a man to be feared. Jules had been in the service of the royal family for thirty years. His loyalties were never questioned, his harsh dealings with those under him legendary.