His Enemy's Daughter. Sarah M. Anderson

“Is this about Brooke Bonner?”

      “No,” he answered quickly, but his cheeks shot red.

      “Uh-huh.”

      At the All-Stars rodeo in Fort Worth early in the season, Brooke had been an up-and-coming country star. And it hadn’t escaped Chloe’s notice that Flash and Brooke had both disappeared about the same time after the rides and before Brooke’s show. They’d had to delay the start of the concert for twenty minutes before Brooke had reappeared, claiming she’d gotten lost backstage.

      If Chloe had the time or mental energy, she’d go for Flash’s jugular over his country-star crush because the man had earned more than a little crap for all the times he’d made Chloe’s life that much more complicated. But today, she didn’t have it in her. She was late, still flustered from whatever the hell had happened between her and Pete and still furious that none of the stock contractors were willing to agree to her ideas until Pete declared them okay. So instead of ribbing her brother, she only said, “If there’s any change in the music lineups, I’ll let you know. Okay?”

      “Okay, thanks.” Her baby brother smiled at her, the good smile that drew buckle bunnies to him like moths to a flame. But underneath that cocky grin was relief.

      “But,” she went on, “you owe me.” Before Flash could interrupt her, she went on, “Yes, Pete Wellington is here. And I’ve hired him—on a trial basis,” she practically had to shout over Flash’s holler of disbelief. “He’s going to run interference with the stock contractors. I’m asking you as a sister and ordering you as your boss not to start anything with him. Okay?”

      “Have you lost your ever-loving mind?” Flash demanded, scuffing the toe of his boot into the dirt. “You can’t trust that man. He’s out to take us all down.”

      “Who said I trusted him?” No, she didn’t trust Pete at all. But aside from Flash, she was alone in that judgment. Everyone else here had made their feelings crystal clear—they’d pick Pete over her every day of the week.

      She just needed a little help while she pushed the All-Stars through this transition phase, that was all. She’d make full use of Pete’s ability to get cowboys to shut up and go along with the plan and then, when she had the All-Stars positioned properly, she’d cut him loose.

      All there was to this...relationship with Pete Wellington was a calculated risk. He was betting he could trick her out of the rodeo, somehow. She was betting he was no match for her. He might be gorgeous, wealthy and awfully good with a rope, but she was a Lawrence.

      Flash looked doubtful, so Chloe went on, “Look—trust me. I know what I’m doing and I know what he’s trying to do—but I can handle him. Just don’t pick a fight with him, okay?”

      “If you need someone to run interference, why not just ask me?”

      The hell of it was, Flash meant that. He hadn’t seen the messes she’d had to clean up after all his other attempts to “help.” Flash would always be a big bull in a very tiny china shop.

      “Because,” she explained, “you want to be a rider, not a Lawrence. You start meddling in the show management and no one will ever believe you’ve earned your ranking.”

      Flash was hell-bent on being one of the best all-around riders in the world, which meant riding with the All-Stars. But the problem with riding the rodeo circuit your family owned was that no one believed he hadn’t just bought his way into the rankings. Everyone—even the competitors who watched him ride night after night—believed he was here only because he was a Lawrence.

      “Fine,” he grumbled. “You’re right. But why does it have to be Pete?”

      Chloe grit her teeth. “Because everyone else already respects him. They listen to him.” And not to her.

      She pushed that thought aside and went on, “If I bring in someone new, it’ll take months—maybe years—before they’re willing to try something different and I have plans, Flash. I want them in place before the next season starts.” That was the one area where Pete had her up against a wall.

      No, no—wrong mental image. Because Pete would never have her up against a wall.

      But she needed his connections and goodwill now.

      Flash scowled. “If Pete gives you any crap at all, I’ll beat the hell out of him.”

      “Agreed,” she said and then pasted on her big smile as a family with two little girls spotted them. “Well, now—who are these two beautiful princesses?”

      The girls squealed and hugged her and Chloe posed for pictures with the mom and her daughters and then, with surprisingly good humor, Flash posed with the dad.

      By then, other people had noticed the Princess of the Rodeo and a crowd formed. As Chloe posed for another picture, she saw Pete Wellington in the distance, talking with a few of the riders. As if he could sense her gaze upon him, he turned. And tipped his hat in her direction.

      Another thrill of pleasure went through her at the gentlemanly gesture. No, she didn’t trust him. Not a damned bit. But it looked like they were working together from here on out.

      This was a bad idea.

      After what had almost happened in the dressing room? It was a horrible idea, one that almost guaranteed failure.

      But as long as she kept her fantasies to herself and Pete’s hands off her body, it’d be fine.

      No problem, right?