Barbara Dunlop - His Convenient Virgin Bride / Seduction on the CEO’s Terms - His Convenient Virgin Bride

Alec’s brain filled in the blank. “And Stephanie is your half sister.”

Royce drew back sharply, his expression confirming the truth.

Alec shrugged. “That’s the only possibility worth twelve million dollars.”

“She’s never going to know.”

“You can’t keep paying him forever.”

“Oh, yes, we can.” Royce grasped the back of his neck. “My grandfather paid until he died. Then McQuestin paid. I took over a couple months ago.”

Though it went beyond the bounds of his contract, Alec felt an obligation to be honest. “What are you going to do when he ups his price?”

It was obvious from Royce’s expression that he hadn’t considered that possibility.

“You’ll eventually have to tell her, Royce.” Royce shook his head. “Not if we stop him.” “And how are you planning to accomplish that?” “I don’t know.” Royce paused. “Got any ideas?”

Last night’s cookhouse burger hadn’t measured up to Royce’s talents, but it had filled Stephanie’s hunger gap. And at least she’d avoided one more screening of Stephanie Hits the Dirt Across America.

It was one thing to show that bloopers reel to friends and family, but to strangers? Business associates? She was busy trying to get Alec to take her seriously, and Royce was making her look like a klutz.

Nice guy her brother.

She opened the wooden gate to Rosie-Jo’s stall in the center section of the main horse barn and led the mare inside. The vet had given the horse a clean bill of health, and they’d had a great practice session this morning. Rosie had eagerly sailed over every jump.

Stephanie peeled off her leather gloves, removed Rosie’s bridle and unclipped the lead rope, reaching through the gate to coil it on the hook outside the stall. She selected a mud brush from the tack box and stroked it over Rosie’s withers and barrel, removing the lingering dirt and sweat from the mare’s dapple gray coat.

“How’d it go?” Wesley’s voice carried through the cavernous barn. His boot heels echoed as he crossed from Rockfire’s stall to Rosie-Jo’s. He tipped back his Stetson and rested his arms on the top rail of the gate.

“Good,” Stephanie answered, continuing the brush strokes.

Though she didn’t look up, a shimmer of anticipation tightened her stomach. The barn was mostly empty, the grooms outside with other horses and students. She hadn’t talked to Wesley since their aborted kiss two days ago. If he wanted to try again, this would be the opportunity.

“Hesitation’s gone,” she added. “You tacking up?”

Wesley nodded. “Rockfire’s ready to go. Tina has them changing up the jump pattern for us.”

Stephanie gave Rosie-Jo’s coat a final stroke. Normally she’d do a more thorough job, but she could always come back later. For now, she wanted to give Wesley another chance. Meet him halfway, as it were.

She replaced the brush, dusted her hands off on the back of her blue jeans and started across the stall to where he was leaning over the rail. Suddenly shy, she found she couldn’t meet his eyes. Was she being too blatant, too obvious? Should she make it a little harder for him to make his move?

It wasn’t like she was experienced at this. Ryder Ranch was a long way off the beaten track. She’d never had a serious romantic relationship, and it had been months—she didn’t want to count how many—since she’d even had a date.

She came to a stop, the slated gate a barrier between them. When she dared look at his face, his lips were parted. There was an anticipatory gleam in his blue eyes. And his head began to tilt to one side.

Should she lean in or let him take the lead?

“Am I interrupting anything?” It was Alec’s voice all over again, and his footfalls rapped along the corridor floor.

Wesley’s hands squeezed down on the gate rail, frustration replacing the anticipation in his eyes.

“Is this some kind of a joke?” he rasped for Stephanie’s ears only.

She didn’t know what to say. Alec seemed to have a knack for bad timing.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Wesley.

“Not as sorry as I am.”

She turned to face Alec. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so.” He stopped. After a silent beat, he glanced meaningfully at Wesley.

Wesley glared at him for a moment then smacked his hand down on the rail. “Time for practice,” he declared and turned on his heel to lead Rockfire from his stall.

As she watched the pair leave, disappointment clunked like a horseshoe to the bottom of Stephanie’s stomach.

“What is it now?” she hissed at Alec, popping the latch and exiting the stall. After securing it behind her, she set off after Wesley.

“Places to go?” asked Alec, falling into step.

“Things to do,” she responded, with a toss of her hair. She was going to watch Wesley’s practice session. It was part of her job as his coach. Plus, she’d be there when he finished. And by then, Alec should be long gone.

“I’m trying to help you, you know.” “I can tell.”

“Is your sex life more important than your company?”

Stephanie increased her pace, stomping forward, ignoring Alec’s question.

Sex life.

Ha! She couldn’t even get a kiss.

She passed through the open barn doorway, squinting into the bright sunshine, focusing on Wesley who was across the ranch road, mounting Rockfire.

Too late, she heard the roar of the pickup engine, then the sickening grind of tires sliding on gravel.

She had a fleeting glimpse of Amber’s horrified face at the wheel before a strong arm clamped around Stephanie’s waist and snatched her out of harm’s way.

Alec whirled them both, sheltering Stephanie against the barn wall, his body pressed protectively against hers as the truck slid sideways, fishtailing out of control, roaring past to miss them by inches.

“You okay?” his voice rasped through the billowing dust.

She told herself to nod, but her brain was slow in interpreting the signal.

“You okay?” he tried again, louder.

This time, Stephanie managed a nod.

“Stay here,” he commanded.

And suddenly, he was gone. Without Alec’s physical support, her knees nearly gave way. She grabbed at the wall, mustering her balance, blinking the blur from her eyes while the world moved in slow motion.

As she turned, she took in two ranch hands across the road. Their eyes were wide, mouths gaping. Wesley struggled to control Rockfire, turning the big horse in dust-cloud circles.

Stephanie followed the direction of the hands’ attention. A roar filled her ears as Amber’s blue truck keeled up on the left wheels.

Alec was rushing toward it Stephanie tried to scream. She tried to run. But her voice clogged down in her chest, and her legs felt like lead weights.

Then the truck overbalanced, crashing down on the driver’s door, spinning in a horrible, grinding circle until it smacked up against an oak tree.

The world zapped back to normal speed. Amongst the cacophony of shouts and motion, Alec skidded to a stop. He peered through the windshield for a split second, then he clambered his way up to the passenger door, high in the air.

He wrenched it open, and Stephanie’s body came back to life. She half ran, half staggered down the road, Amber’s name pulsing over and over through her brain.

Alec swiftly lowered himself into the truck.

Stephanie grew closer, praying Amber was all right.

Suddenly Alec’s sole cracked against the inside of the windshield, popping it out.

“Bring a truck,” he shouted, and two of the ranch hands took off running.

Stephanie made it to the scene to see blood dripping down Amber’s forehead. The realization that this was all her fault, made her stagger.