The Girl with the Golden Spurs. Ann Major

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The Girl with the Golden Spurs - Ann  Major


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the bed he picked up a dark rectangular object about the size of a book. Carrying his black suitcase with the red tie flapping, he strode toward her only to stop and place the rectangular object on the dresser next to where she was standing. “I found this in your brother’s things.”

      “You went through Walker’s things?”

      “I was packing, looking for my stuff stored in his bedroom.” He stopped. “Oh…” His eyes changed, and he let the word hang ominously. “Nell called, too.” His smug expression filled her with dread.

      She froze. “Nell?”

      “I told her I wouldn’t be here to give you her message, so she called back and left a voice mail for you.” He swallowed.

      “You listened to it, didn’t you? You’re leaving me, and you listened to my—”

      “Maybe now isn’t the time to listen to her message.”

      “What does that mean?”

      “Wait until you’ve had a good night’s sleep. That’s all. Don’t watch that video, either…not until you’re feeling stronger.”

      “Video?” Too much was being thrown at her. Vaguely Lizzy realized the black rectangular object he’d placed on the dresser was a VCR tape.

      “I’m strong!”

      Bryce stalked past her with his bags, his long legs carrying him through the apartment to the entryway, out the door. When his footsteps thudded down the stairs, Vanilla looked at her, a tentative smile beginning at the edges of her cherubic mouth. Then the doors three floors below boomed shut behind him, and Vanilla clapped.

      “Oh, Vanilla, you are a little rascal,” she said numbly.

      Vanilla smiled, and Lizzy tried to smile, too, but her lips were quivering too much.

      “I’m not a weak, softhearted wimp.” Lizzy reached for the cordless phone on the dresser, intending to listen to her voice mail tonight. She could take anything this city and Nell could dish out. She could. Gently she set Vanilla down and got her a container and a lid for her to play with.

      Lizzy had six messages. Nell’s was the last. It was short and sweet; well, not sweet.

      “I’m sorry to do this over the phone—Liz. I should have told you today. I meant to.” A drumbeat pounded in Lizzy’s throat. “I should have told you before you went to Texas. It just isn’t working out… You’re too young. Your viewpoint is too softhearted and naive for this city. You don’t do the kinds of stories we do. Your research is sloppy.”

      “What? What?”

      Nell’s voice hadn’t stopped, but Lizzy’s mind went blank. When she could think again Nell’s brisk voice was saying, “…budgets cuts. I have to let you go. Your severance check will be ready first thing tomorrow. My assistant put your things in boxes. You need to turn in your security badge.”

      “What? Boxes! No! No…”

      Lizzy listened to the message a second time, but that only made the horrible words cut deeper.

      Slowly she hung up the phone and picked up the videotape and turned it over in her hands. Vanilla had abandoned the container and lid and had crawled into the living room, over to her green couch. Pulling herself up and patting the cushions, she looked over at Aunt Lizzy, waiting to be congratulated on her accomplishment.

      Aunt Lizzy was probably white as a sheet. “Darling, that’s wonderfu—” Her voice broke. Babies were so self-confident when they faced their challenges. They didn’t quit.

      Lizzy was shaking too hard to speak. Still holding the videotape, she gulped in a breath. Then she went to the couch and sank down beside Vanilla, hoping to draw strength from her.

      “Darling, darling, what would I do if I didn’t have you?”

      Blue eyes sparkling, Vanilla grinned at her impishly.

      Lizzy fought back hot wet tears. She wasn’t going to cry, and she wasn’t going to call home, either, no matter how much she suddenly wanted to talk to her mother—even though Mother had never understood her.

      Nobody could know the terrible turn her life had taken. Nobody.

      Lizzy wasn’t going home to Texas in defeat. Maybe her perfect life was unraveling, but she wasn’t going home. She’d get her job back and she’d get Bryce back, too. It was all a mistake. A terrible mistake. All she needed was a plan. Affirmations. She’d do some affirmations.

      Downstairs the big doors banged, and she heard the fa miliar tread of boots on the stairs.

      Walker! She’d forgotten about him.

       The video!

      Her brother was loping up the stairs two at a time as she shoved the tape underneath the cushions of her couch.

      Wiping her eyes with the back of her hands, she pulled Vanilla into her lap and fought to look calm and composed.

      By the time Walker entered the apartment and called to her, she and the baby were playing an innocent game of patty-cake.

      “How’s it going, Little Lizzy?”

      “F-fine.” She swallowed.

      Their eyes met, and she knew he knew something was wrong.

      Walker could read souls.

      He waited for her to say something. When she didn’t, he reached for the baby, who started clapping.

      Then all he said to Lizzy was, “What’s for supper?”

      Three

       Houston, Texas

       Caesar

      “Hi there.” Cherry’s lazy velvet voice caressed Caesar across twenty feet of darkness, but it was as if she reached out and circled his cock with her hand and lowered her head. His groin got as hot as if her talented tongue was already wetting him there.

      Not that he was in the mood for sex or her lies. Hell, he’d just flown in from a board meeting in San Antonio. His temples ached with tension. He’d gone to the meeting hoping to iron out the details of the Golden Spurs Ranch Museum opening and the following celebration.

      Only Joanne had been there. She’d asked the board to tell him to break up with Cherry or step down. She’d listed various ranch crises and how little he’d done for the ranch lately and how much she’d done. And how much Cole Knight had done as well—damn his rotten soul!

      “You have no right to air our dirty laundry to the board,” he’d growled when she’d gone on and on about Knight.

      “My children own stock in the ranch,” she’d said.

      “She has no right to be here,” he’d yelled at the board, pointing toward Joanne.

      Then Leo, the CEO stood up. “I invited her here.”

      “Who is she—who are you, any of you—to tell me what to do?”

      “I said, ‘Hey, there…’” Cherry’s warm, silky voice floated to him again.

      “Sorry.” He rubbed his aching temples. “My mind’s a million miles away.”

       Break up with her? In a week?

      He was furious at the board, at Joanne, at himself, and at Cherry. And he had a hard-on.

      So what else was new?

      Lately he hadn’t thought about Cherry much when he wasn’t with her. Why was that? But when he was with her, she consumed him.

      Lying naked beside her, he loved her female scent and the dark color of her nipples. He loved the way they lay together afterward, drinking Scotch from the same bottle. The only reason he’d agreed to marry


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