When I entered the parlor, James was sitting near the fireplace, pouring champagne into flutes and the bartender was passing them out to the guests. He’d said he had an announcement to make. Had he and Sloan closed some kind of important deal over dinner?
Sloan took two glasses from the tray he was offered and handed one to me.
“I mentioned an announcement,” James said, “and I don’t think it should come as a surprise to anyone. My daughter’s disappearance was a harsh reminder of how little time there is and how quickly it passes. As a result, I’ve decided that her wedding to Sloan, which would have taken place in September, will take place here on Friday evening.”
Friday was the day after tomorrow. I nearly dropped the glass of champagne I was holding. I would have if Sloan hadn’t reached out and steadied my hand. “He can’t mean that,” I said.
“He means it all right,” Sloan confirmed in a low tone. “He’s a sneaky, manipulating bastard, and it’s just like him to pull something like this.”
“I don’t have the patience to wait any longer,” James continued. “And I don’t think Sloan does, either. Since I’ve known all of you from the start of McKenzie Enterprises, you’re invited. The ceremony will be at five in the chapel, and we’ll have a small celebration afterward.” Then he raised his glass in the air. “To the happy couple.”
“If you don’t do something,” I said in an undertone to Sloan, “I will.”
“Be my guest.”
I had the distinct and annoying suspicion that Sloan was enjoying this. That only increased my determination.
I strode forward until I was standing directly in front of James, who was flanked on one side by Beatrice and on the other by Doc Carter. I kept my eyes on James. “I can’t do this. I don’t remember Sloan. I need more time.”
James took my hand and squeezed it. “Humor an old man, Cammy. Doc Carter is convinced that all you need is a bit more time. Everyone here will help you to get your memory back by Friday. Sloan will see that you get a grand tour of the estate first thing tomorrow. You’ll see. You’ll be back to normal in no time.”
I turned back to Sloan, still hoping that he’d join me in protest, but he seemed perfectly okay with the announcement. In fact from the look he gave me, I was sure he’d been anticipating it. I couldn’t believe that he was letting James do this.
James squeezed my hand again and drew me down closer. “Please. You and Sloan were meant for each other. Trust me and do this for me. The future of the McKenzie ranch depends on you.”
Sloan was right. James was a manipulative and wily old man, and he’d staged this on purpose in front of clients. In fact, I was sure that’s why the Bolands and the Lakewoods and the Radcliffs had been invited. I could have put up a bigger fight if there’d just been the family. And I would have, I told myself.
“Cammy?” James said.
“Yes. Okay.” I told myself I had two days to talk James or Sloan or both of them out of this. In a soap opera story line that was plenty of time. And I was good at inventing new plot twists. If all else failed I could just say no when I was at the altar. I couldn’t be forced to marry anyone. Could I?
“To the bride and groom and to the future of McKenzie Enterprises.”
“Hear, hear!”
As we all raised our glasses and sipped champagne, I scanned the faces of Cameron’s family. From what I could see, only James seemed happy with the surprise announcement.
“To the bride,” Sloan said, slipping his hand into mine.
As everyone drank again, I turned to find both amusement and challenge in his eyes. I promised myself that I was going to figure him out.
If it killed me?
9
THE MOMENT HE GOT BACK to the carriage house, Sloan slipped out of his jacket and pulled off his boots. Then he grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and walked out onto the deck that offered a view of both the stables and the hacienda. Settling himself in a cushioned chair, he propped his feet up on the railing and took a long swallow of beer.
Taking a half hour to sit down, put his feet up and review the events of the day was a habit he’d developed in his late teens—minus the beer, of course. Sometimes he turned on the CD player, but tonight he wanted the quiet. He had a lot to sort through. And it all centered on Red.
He’d called her that at first because he wasn’t going to call her Cameron. And he had figured it might annoy her or at the very least throw her a bit off balance. But the name seemed to somehow fit her.
And he’d kissed her again. The kiss hadn’t been a test this time. He wasn’t a man who felt there was anything to be gained by lying to himself. He’d kissed her again because he wanted to. And because he hadn’t been able to resist finding out if she’d have the same effect she’d had on him the first time.
And now he knew. He wanted Red with an intensity that he’d never felt for any other woman.
It hadn’t done much good telling himself that she might be a lying little, fortune-hunting imposter. The fact remained that he wanted more from her than a kiss. And there was no use lecturing himself that he shouldn’t take more. No use at all pretending that he wouldn’t take more. Because he would.
Hell, he nearly had.
His gaze dropped to the garden below. He thought he could make out the bench where they’d kissed just a few hours ago. If someone hadn’t interrupted them, he would have made love to her right there. He was skilled enough, and she’d been aroused enough. It would have been wild, and crazy…and very dangerous. Everything else aside, he certainly hadn’t gone to James’s little dinner party with condoms at the ready. He hadn’t been tempted to run a risk like that since he was a teenager in the grip of almost-terminal hormones.
Red could certainly push his buttons all right. And why not? Any man would be tempted by the passion that was simmering just below the surface. One taste of her and all he could think of was having her beneath him, of losing himself inside of her.
That didn’t bother him as much as the fact that when he’d seen her in Hal Linton’s arms, jealousy had sliced through him right to the bone. He hadn’t felt that when he’d seen Hal kissing Cameron in the garden five weeks ago.
Sloan took another swallow of beer. The other thing worrying him was that he was coming to like Red. He thought of the way she’d marched across the parlor to face down James. Even in his wheelchair, the old man had been able to glower at her at eye level. David taking on Goliath, he thought with a smile. And there was that shove she’d given Linton. It had sent him tumbling back against the wall.
Not only was he beginning to like her, he was also more and more intrigued by her. She was dead set against marrying him. Before the party broke up, she’d taken him aside to try and talk him into persuading James to postpone the wedding. His gaze shifted to the hacienda and the light he could see in James’s suite. She was there with him now, trying to plead her case.
Why? If she was the fortune hunter he suspected her of being, why wasn’t she happy about the wedding? She had to figure that in two days, James would sign his new will and she’d be a millionairess.
And just what kind of a game was James playing? Had he moved up the wedding because of what he’d said in the parlor or was he involved in something deeper?
He couldn’t help wondering what part Cameron might be playing in all of this. Leaning his head back against the chair, Sloan closed his eyes and tried to sort through what he knew and what he didn’t.
Fact number one, Cameron had disappeared five weeks ago, and everyone including himself had believed that she’d taken off because she was having second thoughts about the wedding.
He knew for a fact that she had been. Right after he’d caught her kissing Hal Linton in the gardens, they’d argued. He’d told her that it wasn’t the kind of behavior he would accept after they were married, and she’d blown up, told him she’d act whatever way she pleased. She’d threatened to call the wedding off, and he’d told her to go ahead.
But there hadn’t been any real passion in the fight. Cameron had been angry, but not at him. She’d been angry with her father, angry that he wouldn’t leave the land to her because she was a woman. As a result, their quarrel was more like an argument he would have had with Cameron years ago—the kind that a brother and sister might have.
And that was the crux of the problem. As the wedding date drew closer, both of them were realizing what they would be giving up if they went through with the marriage.
They’d have the land, and he had no doubt that they’d eventually have children. But there would never be anything between them but the kind of love that exists between siblings or good friends.
Opening his eyes, Sloan looked at the hacienda and the stables beyond drenched in moonlight. What he and Cameron shared was a passion for this land, but not for each other. That was why Cameron had asked him to marry her. He wasn’t sure whether it had been entirely her idea or if James had proposed it. But he knew why Cameron had gone along with it. She’d been scared when James had had the heart attack. She’d been angry then, too, because James was not going to leave the estate entirely in the hands of a woman. In the will he’d made out after the heart attack, he’d left it to a board of directors he’d personally selected. The board would make all the business decisions. Cameron would be provided for, but she’d have little control in the daily running of the ranch.