The Nanny and the CEO. Rebecca Winters

wouldn’t tell anyone about the possibility that she might be marrying Ford Harlow because, besides feeling embarrassed about the circumstances, she couldn’t truly believe she’d actually marry Ford. She’d lived her whole life with this kind of uncertainty, and she’d hated that, but it was always best to keep expectations for good low. Though in this case, it was hard to know which outcomes were good and which ones weren’t.

      Several of the men had either returned to the headquarters or stayed nearby after word had gotten around that she was leaving, so once they’d bid her a proper goodbye, they started back to work.

      Rena got into her pickup and started it to drive to the front of the main house, debating where to go. She could stable her horses and check into a motel until she knew the details of Ford’s deal with her father. What she truly wanted now was to forget it all and drive to Austin to begin the search for work, but the possibility of inheriting Lambert made that impossible.

      Ford was just coming out of the house when she pulled to a stop next to his parked truck. He walked directly to her.

      “I’ve already made arrangements for your horses at Harlow,” he told her. “My housekeeper’s got your room ready by now.”

      The idea that he expected her to move directly into his home increased her unease.

      “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she said quietly.

      The faint smile on Ford’s mouth smoothed to a serious line. “Abner’s antsy about you leaving Lambert. He’ll focus better on keeping his end of the deal if it looks like you and I are keeping our end.”

      Rena glanced away and gripped the steering wheel. “And once you and I are under the same roof and people hear about it, he could back out of the agreement.”

      “Why would he do that?”

      It was difficult to admit to Ford, but she made herself look at him to say it. “To cause…embarrassment.”

      Ford appeared unfazed by that. “He already knows that once you and I are together, I won’t tolerate that. You seem to be the only one in doubt.”

      She felt a pinprick of anger but kept her voice calm. “And you seem to be the only one who doesn’t understand how my father is.”

      “Sure I do. He’s bad-tempered and he’s a bully. Once you’re away from him, he won’t seem so powerful and you can stop letting him worry you.”

      The words were blunt and left no room for her to mistake either Ford’s opinion of her father or his disapproval of her worries.

      “It’s getting late,” he went on. “Miz Zelly had supper started before I came over, and I’ve worked up a hell of an appetite.”

      His dark gaze held hers for long moments and she sensed a double meaning in those last words, a sexual meaning that somehow pierced her ignorance and sent a flush over her skin. Her gaze jerked from his.

      “So your men and your housekeeper know about…this?” She couldn’t bring herself to call it a marriage. “They think—”

      “They think I’ve finally decided to marry. The shenanigans of a bitter old man, whatever those might be, won’t influence what they’ll think of you.”

      This was his second dismissal of her worries about what her father might do. Frustrated by that, she was compelled to convince him her worries weren’t groundless.

      “The man’s reputation doesn’t suffer what a woman’s does.” She glanced at him in time to catch the start of his smile.

      Ford leaned toward the truck to rest a forearm on the sill of the open window. Which brought his face disturbingly close to hers. His voice dropped lower, and his words sent a double stroke of heat through her.

      “Civilized people used to marry each other to stop wagging tongues. We can do that if the land deal falls through and you’re still worried about how this looks.”

      Rena felt again that peculiar mix of fear and excitement, but she couldn’t seem to pull her gaze away.

      “We need to get moving,” he said then. “It’d be nice to have you settled in before supper. We’ve got plans to work out before we get the license tomorrow.”

      Her insides were quivering with added anxiety at the mention of a marriage license, but she did her best to conceal it. Besides, she hadn’t yet thanked Ford for what he’d accomplished for her. She made an awkward start.

      “I’m obliged to you for putting yourself out in there with my father, and I’m…grateful.”

      He came right back with, “We’re both obliged. To each other for what we’ll get out of the deal, and for a marriage.”

      There it was again, that glimpse of implacability. The fear Rena felt made her give a nod before she faced forward, relieved when Ford turned to walk to his truck.

      The moment his back was turned, she secretly watched him go, wondering how on earth she would ever adjust to him.

      Ford had seen the fear in Rena’s troubled gaze. She was terrified of marrying him. He’d be willing to bet her terror was sharp enough that she’d almost give up the chance to inherit Lambert Ranch if it meant she wouldn’t have to go through with a wedding.

      He wasn’t offended by that, he was touched. Unfortunately there might be little he could do to ease her terror in the short time between now and the end of the week.

      Perhaps it wasn’t fair to try. Her father had put her in an impossible position, and Ford himself had just upped the ante for her. To be honest, he didn’t trust Abner any more than she did, but the details of the legal agreement he’d be signing might at least make the old man think twice about reneging later.

      In the meantime, he had to somehow keep Rena from bolting while he tried to decide if getting his hands on more land and water was truly worth the trouble of marrying her.

      By the time Rena angled the horse trailer near the stable at Harlow Ranch, she was shaking. She switched off the truck engine and got out to unload her horses, sick with misgiving.

      Ford had driven in ahead of her and now he joined her to open the trailer gate and pull out the ramp. He introduced three of his ranch hands who offered to take care of her horses, but Rena gently declined, preferring to settle them in herself.

      “Then one of you can get this trailer unhitched and taken back to Frank Casey at Lambert Ranch,” Ford told his men as he took the two horses’ lead ropes, leaving the filly for Rena. “The other two can take her truck up to the house. Miz Zelly’ll show you where to put Miz Lambert’s things.”

      Rena got in a quiet “Thank you” to the men, though Ford’s brisk directions to them cranked her nerves several notches higher. Things were happening too fast. She should have been able to slow them down, to reconsider the shocking events of the day and make certain what she truly wanted, but her brain was pounding with it all.

      The filly immediately began to act up, yanking away and fidgeting at the end of her lead. The abrupt move claimed Rena’s attention and she struggled to calm herself while she gave the filly a reassuring rub. Ford had already taken her horses into the stable, so Rena led the filly and followed.

      Three large stalls halfway down had been prepared, complete with measures of grain and fresh water. Rena put the filly in the center stall, removed her halter, then waited while the yearling inspected her new quarters. Her horses took the change in stride. Ford and the ranch hand who was returning the trailer to Frank Casey got her tack stowed in the tack room, and once Rena was satisfied her animals were comfortable, she joined Ford for the walk to the main house.

      The Harlow Ranch house was a sprawling two-story Victorian, with a large back patio overhung by leafy shade trees. Both the front and back verandas were decorated with urns of colorful flowers, which gave the whole place a look of energy and hospitality.

      Nothing like the stark simplicity of the Lambert Ranch