Where the hell is she?
“Okay, we’ll go to yours.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I’ll make it worth your while. I haven’t been able to think about anything except your luscious body.”
“Christ, Angie. Shut the fuck up, will you?”
Dusty entered the ballroom and he silently thanked God.
“It’s over, okay?”
“You’ll change your mind.”
Angelina walked away, swinging her considerable assets. She was a beauty, no doubt. Funny thing, though. Zach wasn’t even slightly tempted. Instead, he couldn’t take his eyes off the golden-haired goddess walking toward him. She looked a little flustered, but she was still the most delicious thing he’d ever seen.
“You all right, darlin’?”
“Fine.” She plunked down in a chair. “I think I’ve had a little too much Wild Turkey, to tell you the truth. I don’t usually drink hard stuff.”
“Why did you tonight?”
She sighed. “I thought it would help me feel a little more at ease. You know, with Angelina and all.”
“Angelina is nothing compared to you.”
“That’s sweet of you to say. But you and she—”
“That’s over.”
“I know. I just… Never mind.”
“What is it, darlin’?”
Before she could answer, his brother Dallas and his wife approached the table. “Hey, Zach. Who’s this?”
Trust Dallas to get straight to the point. “Dusty O’Donovan. Her pa used to work at the ranch back in the late eighties. You remember?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Sure you do. Her brother Sam was best friends with Chad.”
“Sounds vaguely familiar.” He held out his hand. “Dallas McCray.”
“Nice to see you,” Dusty said. “You look a lot like Zach, don’t you? Except you’re a little gray around the temples, and your nose is slightly larger. But still a very nice nose. And both your eyes are brown, of course.” She hiccupped. “Excuse me.”
Zach cringed as the blond woman next to his brother pursed her lips. What the hell was wrong with the bitch tonight? He thought Dusty’s hiccup was charming. She was a little tipsy. Otherwise she probably wouldn’t have mentioned Dallas’s gray hair or his nose. But hell, it wasn’t a damn secret. Dallas was still a chick magnet at thirty-five. Of course, Chelsea kept him on a short leash.
“This is my wife, Chelsea,” Dallas said.
Chelsea held out her hand to Dusty. “Chelsea Beaumont McCray, of the Kennebunkport Beaumonts.”
“Oh God,” Zach said under his breath.
“Charmed,” Dusty said.
Zach’s smile widened. Oh, his little darlin’ knew how to deal with Chelsea.
“That’s a lovely outfit,” Chelsea cooed to Dusty.
Damn. Dusty was sensitive about her appearance tonight. Why couldn’t Chelsea leave well enough alone?
“Thank you,” Dusty said sweetly. “You look splendid as well. I’ve never seen a lovelier shade of pink.”
“It’s Vera Wang,” Chelsea said. “And it’s not pink, it’s bashful.”
“Excuse me?”
“Bashful. The color?”
“Oh. Of course.” Dusty put her hand on Zach’s forearm.
A slight touch from her, and his loins ignited.
“It was lovely to meet you both, but I’m extremely tired. I worked with Zach’s bull all day and—”
“What?” Dallas said, his tone incredulous. “You let her near that brute, Zach?”
“I was with her the whole time.”
“You don’t have the sense God gave a goose. If Pa were here—”
“Well, he’s not. And you ain’t him, Dallas. The big brother routine got old twenty years ago.”
“I wasn’t in any danger,” Dusty said. “I’m good with bulls.”
Chelsea eeked out a small disgusted sound. “I can’t bear the beasts myself. They’re ugly. And they smell.”
“Only if they’re not properly cared for,” Dusty said.
“Pooh,” Chelsea said. “You couldn’t pay me to go near one of them.”
“I’m betting if the price were right, you’d hang with the bulls,” Zach said.
Dallas looked at him sternly but said nothing.
Chelsea laughed
“Okay, we’ll go to yours.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I’ll make it worth your while. I haven’t been able to think about anything except your luscious body.”
“Christ, Angie. Shut the fuck up, will you?”
Dusty entered the ballroom and he silently thanked God.
“It’s over, okay?”
“You’ll change your mind.”
Angelina walked away, swinging her considerable assets. She was a beauty, no doubt. Funny thing, though. Zach wasn’t even slightly tempted. Instead, he couldn’t take his eyes off the golden-haired goddess walking toward him. She looked a little flustered, but she was still the most delicious thing he’d ever seen.
“You all right, darlin’?”
“Fine.” She plunked down in a chair. “I think I’ve had a little too much Wild Turkey, to tell you the truth. I don’t usually drink hard stuff.”
“Why did you tonight?”
She sighed. “I thought it would help me feel a little more at ease. You know, with Angelina and all.”
“Angelina is nothing compared to you.”
“That’s sweet of you to say. But you and she—”
“That’s over.”
“I know. I just… Never mind.”
“What is it, darlin’?”
Before she could answer, his brother Dallas and his wife approached the table. “Hey, Zach. Who’s this?”
Trust Dallas to get straight to the point. “Dusty O’Donovan. Her pa used to work at the ranch back in the late eighties. You remember?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Sure you do. Her brother Sam was best friends with Chad.”
“Sounds vaguely familiar.” He held out his hand. “Dallas McCray.”
“Nice to see you,” Dusty said. “You look a lot like Zach, don’t you? Except you’re a little gray around the temples, and your nose is slightly larger. But still a very nice nose. And both your eyes are brown, of course.” She hiccupped. “Excuse me.”
Zach cringed as the blond woman next to his brother pursed her lips. What the hell was wrong with the bitch tonight? He thought Dusty’s hiccup was charming. She was a little tipsy. Otherwise she probably wouldn’t have mentioned Dallas’s gray hair or his nose. But hell, it wasn’t a damn secret. Dallas was still a chick magnet at thirty-five. Of course, Chelsea kept him on a short leash.
“This is my wife, Chelsea,” Dallas said.
Chelsea held out her hand to Dusty. “Chelsea Beaumont McCray, of the Kennebunkport Beaumonts.”
“Oh God,” Zach said under his breath.
“Charmed,” Dusty said.
Zach’s smile widened. Oh, his little darlin’ knew how to deal with Chelsea.
“That’s a lovely outfit,” Chelsea cooed to Dusty.
Damn. Dusty was sensitive about her appearance tonight. Why couldn’t Chelsea leave well enough alone?
“Thank you,” Dusty said sweetly. “You look splendid as well. I’ve never seen a lovelier shade of pink.”
“It’s Vera Wang,” Chelsea said. “And it’s not pink, it’s bashful.”
“Excuse me?”
“Bashful. The color?”
“Oh. Of course.” Dusty put her hand on Zach’s forearm.
A slight touch from her, and his loins ignited.
“It was lovely to meet you both, but I’m extremely tired. I worked with Zach’s bull all day and—”
“What?” Dallas said, his tone incredulous. “You let her near that brute, Zach?”
“I was with her the whole time.”
“You don’t have the sense God gave a goose. If Pa were here—”
“Well, he’s not. And you ain’t him, Dallas. The big brother routine got old twenty years ago.”
“I wasn’t in any danger,” Dusty said. “I’m good with bulls.”
Chelsea eeked out a small disgusted sound. “I can’t bear the beasts myself. They’re ugly. And they smell.”
“Only if they’re not properly cared for,” Dusty said.
“Pooh,” Chelsea said. “You couldn’t pay me to go near one of them.”
“I’m betting if the price were right, you’d hang with the bulls,” Zach said.
Dallas looked at him sternly but said nothing.
Chelsea laughed
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