Cowboy Proud. Kelli Ireland

have or want a damsel in distress. Clear enough?”

      Emma pursed her lips and shifted to her hip to consider him full on. “Odd. I was under the impression cowboys were all about saving the day.”

      “You’ve watched too much TV, Emma.” He retrieved his sunglasses and slid them on his face with practiced calm.

      “Fair enough. If I’m not up to speed on the way cowboys really behave or what they seem to want, educate me.”

      He choked, color climbing up from under the collar of his shirt and rising until it reached the band of his hat and disappeared. “Educate you? What do you want to know?” The skepticism in his voice made her laugh out loud. This was so much fun she’d have to add “baiting Cade Covington” to her list of hobbies.

      Untucking her foot, she crossed her legs.

      Cade’s eyes glazed over and the rough-around-the-edges cowboy was forced to overcorrect to get the truck back on the road.

      She crossed her hands in her lap, the picture of innocence. “Educate me the cowboy way, I suppose.”

      Cade slowed the truck and pulled it to the side of the empty road. He threw one arm around the headrest of her seat and shifted on his hip to face her. “You want an education?”

      The undisguised, unapologetic heat in his voice paired with the sharp smell of rain and ozone from the brewing storm and caused her heart to race to a tattooing beat inside her chest.

      “I don’t believe I stuttered,” she managed to get out without her voice shaking.

      He traced the line of her jaw, his touch as heated as a branding iron. “This ought to be interesting, then. Want to wager on the results?”

      “What?”

      “You’ll end up loving or loathing me, darlin’. Which will it be?”

      Caught up in the intensity of his pale blue stare, she stuttered. “L-love or loathing?”

      “That’s right, Ms. Graystone,” he replied softly, pushing his black Stetson up, again revealing those just-blue eyes. “You’re stuck with me for the next two weeks by your own doing...Emma. So what do you want to bet you either love me or loathe me by the time it’s all over?”

      Her wits had become veritable marbles rolling around all willy-nilly inside her. She mentally gathered what she could, forced herself to slow down and then smiled with enough heat to make the asphalt seem frosty. “You want to play? Then we’ll play. But there have to be mutually agreeable, and equally impressive, stakes.”

      Now it was Cade who, licking his lips, only nodded.

      “If I leave here loathing you, you’ll donate a week at the ranch to the charity of my choosing.”

      “And if you end up loving me?” His words were strained, voice so dry it was almost dusty.

      “‘Love’ is a little strong, don’t you think? That emotion requires time to grow and prosper, and two weeks won’t cut it.”

      His eyes heated. “Ever been in love, Emma?”

      Warmth suffused her cheeks. “Not really a believer in happily-ever-after endings.”

      “No? What do you believe in, then?”

      She shrugged.

      “C’mon, Emma. There has to be something,” Cade pressed. “And why wouldn’t you believe in true love?”

      “You can’t believe in something you’ve never seen, never experienced.”

      His eyes widened. “Yeah, actually, you can. It’s called having faith in someone or something. It’s like sitting down in a chair. I know it’s a chair because, even if I personally have never sat in a chair, I’ve watched others do it. So when I go to sit down, I have faith the chair will do what it was supposed to do and hold me up because I’ve witnessed it do so for others. Faith.” He reached up and undid the collar button on his shirt. “You probably understand more about love than you realize you do, Emma. You’ve witnessed it, whether over dinner with friends or between a man and woman standing on a busy street corner, so caught up in each other they miss their bus and don’t care. That’s love, so you’ve got something to draw on.”

      She shifted in her seat, her gaze roaming the grandeur of the plains, her mind trying to commit the smallest details to memories.

      He pressed further. “So, what—you want me to believe you’ve never loved anyone and never seen someone in love?” He settled his black Stetson firmly before shaking his head. “I don’t buy it, Ms. Graystone. Someone who looks like you? She’s been loved before, even if from afar.”

      “It’s pretty to think so, isn’t it? Regardless, appearances have no bearing on love, particularly true love. Have you never watched a Disney movie? Beauty and the Beast, for example. Beautiful woman falls in love with a man cursed to beastly form. But love changes everything, making her whole and him the handsome prince he’d been before.” Emma fought to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “A fantastic tale that creates false hope in girls.” She choked on a bitter laugh. “As a kid, I wasn’t given anything but the hard truth. No disillusionment. Ever.”

      “My old man was a real piece of work, too. Mom? We all swore she was an angel, but we lost her way too early. I get the maladjusted family bit,” he said, resting his wrist across the steering wheel casually. “We’ve all got some kind of dysfunction that dogs our heels. Doesn’t mean we have to let it herd us where it will, though.”

      “You think I let my history determine my future?” How could he judge her? “I grew up with nannies. Some were young and nubile and spent a great deal of time in my father’s office. Then there were the rigid hardliners who stayed just long enough to offend my mother before being dismissed.

      “It didn’t matter which camp they were in, though. Affection was forbidden. They were there to raise me, not coddle me.” She forced a smile. “My parents hated each other, but it was a strategic financial match, a practical investment of individual strengths in order to achieve mutual goals. So tell, me, Cade. Where in all of that should I have found faith in love and family? Perhaps somewhere between courses at dinner when I was allowed to eat with my parents so long as I didn’t speak? Or maybe at school, where my parents were the repeat no-shows for everything from concerts to parent-teacher conferences? No? I’ve got it! How about when I thought I’d bank on love and entered into a joint business venture they approved of with a man they’d chosen and suggested I marry in order to forge a stronger connection between the family businesses?” Her mind flashed to Michael, her business partner, the same one she currently suspected might be sabotaging the business she’d started before she’d met him and allowed him to buy in. “You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t get totally on board with the whole ‘love saves the day’ mentality.”

      Lines appeared at the corners of Cade’s mouth as his frown deepened, but he didn’t comment on her outburst. He simply drove on, only the radio and road noise cutting the silence.

      The reference to Michael reminded Emma of her worries. She’d left him a voice mail this morning, asking him to call her as soon as possible. The only thing she’d received was a text. “Good luck in the Wild West, Annie Oakley! Send a picture of you on a horse. Thanks for taking over this account and assuming responsibility for the Covington’s new dude ranch.”

      The last line had bothered her. Why had he laid responsibility for both the account and, in particular, his clients at her feet?

      “I’m under no delusions about what I want,” Cade said. His words sounded louder in a truck cab that had been silent as they’d traveled across the flat grassland all the way to the base of a mountain range.

      She shook off thoughts of Michael. “Want? For what?”

      “For our wager. When I have you wrapped around my little finger with love in your eyes, I want you to refund the money we’ve paid you