Hot Holiday Rancher. Catherine Mann
squeezed excess water from her ponytail, her wet hair clearly blond now in the glow of the dash.
But he wasn’t any closer to identifying which of the matchmaker’s candidates she might be.
“I’m Jesse Stevens, as you already seem to know. And you are?”
“Esme Perry. Nice to meet you, Jesse.”
He looked over sharply in surprise at her name. She was not one of the three women the matchmaker had provided. Surely he couldn’t have forgotten a recommended candidate. Perhaps he’d missed an email from the matchmaker?
Except… Wait… Alarms sounded in the back of his mind. There were plenty of Perrys in Texas. But one branch in particular was heavy-duty on the radar of the Royal branch of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. “Perry, as in…”
“Yes, my father is Sterling Perry. We’re very excited about the new branch of the Texas Cattleman’s Club opening in Houston. My father sent me here to talk to you. To do a little recon,” she said with a sassy smile.
Disappointment churned. She hadn’t been sent by the matchmaker. He focused on the path ahead, a back road on higher ground to his home.
“A spy in our midst,” he said dryly. Granted, one helluva sexy Mata Hari.
“Not anything so nefarious.” She tugged at the belt of her trench coat. “I’m just here to see how you run things at the Royal branch.”
“Or to curry favor for your dad.”
She straightened in the seat, clearly bristling at the criticism of her father. But it wasn’t any secret that Sterling Perry had a sketchy past and a quest for power.
A quest that was currently playing out in a battle with Ryder Currin as they vied for control of the new Houston branch, to be opened in a historic building site, a former luxury boutique hotel. Ryder Currin was a self-made man. Whereas Esme’s family was led by the old-money, charming, larger-than-life patriarch Sterling Perry, who continued to grow the Perry fortune in banking, real estate and property development.
Jesse’s impression of the man? All show but little substance.
Was this woman like her dad? It seemed so, judging by her car and her clothes and her defense of her father.
He pulled up to his ranch home. More lights glimmered in the trees lining the driveway, and a wreath glowed on the front door of his white two-story house. A sprawling place he’d had built with hopes of one day having a family of his own. His parents were dead. He only had one sister, and while he loved her, she had her own life.
Now he was ready to build a future for himself.
Keeping his eyes off the woman beside him, he steered off the path and onto the driveway, circling around back. More twinkling lights marked the way. He’d arranged for decorations outdoors to make his place more welcoming, but hadn’t gotten around to the indoors. His life definitely needed a woman’s touch.
He activated the garage door opener, steered into the six-bay garage, and turned off the truck as the automatic door closed behind them. “You can stay at my place until morning…or until the weather blows over.”
“I appreciate the offer. Clearly, I’m in no position to turn you down.” She gestured to her bare feet and soggy clothes.
“Call it club loyalty. It would be irresponsible of me to send you back out into this weather.” He draped a hand over the steering wheel and allowed himself an unrestrained look at the bombshell beside him. “But I don’t talk about club business in my off-hours, so I won’t be discussing your father or the Houston chapter.”
“Fair enough. I just have one question, nothing about the Texas Cattleman’s Club.” She tipped her head to one side, her raincoat parting to reveal the curve of her breasts in the soaked silk shirt. “Who did you think I was?”
Toying with her seat belt and not in any hurry to leave the truck just yet, Esme waited for Jesse’s answer, more curious than she would have liked to admit about what mystery woman he was expecting. Even knowing that cowboys weren’t her type, she couldn’t deny the appeal of those piercing green eyes.
He cocked an eyebrow as he reached for his Stetson. “I certainly didn’t think you were one of the infamous Perry family.”
She bristled at the censure in his voice. “Infamous?” she repeated, the bubble of romance officially burst. She unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the door handle. “That’s rather harsh, don’t you think?”
“I didn’t mean to offend,” he said as his boots hit the pristine cement floor of his six-car garage with a solid thud. “Your father was investigated on fraud charges and the murder of a Perry Holdings assistant not too long ago.”
Vincent Hamm had gone missing, the assistant presumed to have quit and moved to the British Virgin Islands to spend his life surfing, based on a text he’d sent his boss. But then his body had been discovered with a bullet wound to the chest, his skull bashed, making identification difficult. But DNA tests had confirmed the man’s identity.
Esme slammed the door, the sound reverberating in the dimly lit space. Her damp and muddy feet slipped ever so slightly as she charged forward alongside a speedboat, her toes still so icy cold, her mangled shoes dangling from her hand. An SUV, a motorcycle and a pair of four-wheelers filled the rest of the space. The man sure liked his toys.
Or maybe his family did?
She glanced at his left hand as he tapped the security code at the door leading into the house. No ring. But then, there was still the mystery woman.
Esme pulled her focus back to her reason for being here. To clean up her father’s image among the Texas Cattleman’s Club members here in Royal.
“My father was cleared of fraud and the murder of Vincent Hamm.” All hell had broken loose when the body was found at the site of the new Texas Cattleman’s Club, where her father’s construction company was doing the renovations. The murderer still hadn’t been found. “As I recall, you were under suspicion, too, after leaving an angry message on Hamm’s voice mail.”
“Valid point.” He waved her inside with a broad hand, his square jaw flexing. “Lucky for me, I have an airtight alibi.”
While he turned on the lights, she flung her damp hair over her shoulders and unbuttoned her trench coat. “Clearly there’s something more you want to say?”
Texas landscapes lined the walls of the corridor, one end leading to a washroom and the other leading into the house. He eyed her for a moment, sizing her up before nodding tightly. “Your father has led a cutthroat life in the business world. Sterling Perry may not be guilty of this, but the man he has been made it easier to believe it could be him.”
She couldn’t deny the truth in that. But that was still her daddy Jesse was talking about. “You certainly know how to win friends and influence people.”
Sighing, he swept off his hat. “Ma’am, you’re clearly tired. I’ll make you something to drink—decaf coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate?”
She was exhausted. But she had a narrow window of time. If she kept bristling this way, she would lose the chance to plead her father’s case to be the president of the Houston branch of the club. It was tough enough already with all the politics back home, given the other contender for the position was his longtime rival, Ryder Currin, who her father felt had unjustly gotten an oil-rich piece of land that should have stayed in the family. It didn’t seem to matter to Sterling that he already had more money than royalty and that Ryder had made the bulk of his fortune through savvy investments.
Although they had to get along these days since Ryder was seeing her sister Angela, that didn’t change the fact that her dad wanted the position. And Angela would have to live with that,