Seduction Island. Lorie O'Clare
won’t walk away from them for me, Jordan. I won’t allow it.”
“You’re getting yourself all upset and I told you not to worry. Don’t you dare let that ranch fall apart while I’m gone. You can’t afford to pay me overtime to get it back on its feet when I get back,” he emphasized, intentionally snapping at her. “And you know damn good and well I wouldn’t be walking away from my family. I plan on coming home to my family in a month. Now, get in the Suburban and drive around the ranch. Keep your appearances up and that will be enough to keep everyone working like they always do.”
Her laughter was melodic yet sad. “There are times when I wonder how much Anton blood actually runs in your veins, Jordan.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Aunt P,” he told her, smiling while he logged in to his chat program and then watched the offline messages appear on his screen. “Now, do as I say. You know you can call with any questions or problems. We’ll get through this. I’m going to get some work done before the fireworks start tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she said, yawning in his ear.
“Have a good evening, Aunt P. I’m here to tell you, tomorrow isn’t that bad.” Technically, he was a day ahead of her and made light of the difference in time zones between the island and Montana.
“Good night,” she said, not laughing at his joke, and then hung up the phone.
Jordan blew out a breath. Putting his phone next to his keyboard, he stared at the sandwich Cook had brought him. He was no longer in the mood for it. In the back of his head, he’d known over the years since he reached adulthood that it was a matter of time before the Antons would disown him. Regardless of his last name, or how thick his blood was or wasn’t, he couldn’t play by Grandfather’s rules. And Grandfather didn’t allow any family member to not adhere to the reputation he believed all Antons should uphold.
Jordan stared at his offline messages, three of them from two ranch hands and a lady in town that he occasionally spent time with. He hadn’t told her he was going to be gone for a month. Running his fingers through his hair he yanked out his ponytail holder and stood, combing his hair with his fingers and redoing his ponytail.
Opening the doors that Cook had closed to his balcony, he ignored the chime of his laptop informing him he’d received an instant message, and stepped out onto the balcony. Jordan’s family wasn’t perfect. Hell, they were worse than most of the soap operas his aunt watched. But they were his family.
“Figure it out, Anton,” he grumbled under his breath, leaning on the edge of the sturdy railing and staring at the large yard in front of the castle and beyond, where the drive disappeared amidst rocks and trees leading to the ocean.
He straightened, staring beyond to the endless ocean that faded into the sky. Maybe he would have been smarter to tell Grandfather Anton to get the hell out of Jordan’s life and refuse to come here. The ranch had been about to go under when Jordan moved in with his aunt two years ago. They’d worked hard to overcome the debts his Uncle Jorge had created. And Jordan was proud of how far they’d come. The ranch wouldn’t make his aunt rich, but it was her land, free and clear, and today it was breaking even.
Jordan couldn’t help thinking that their success was a good part of the reason Grandfather suddenly became interested in his life. That and his mother, who loved her country club lifestyle, ached to brag about her son the way other members of his family bragged about his cousins. She prayed daily, Jordan didn’t have any doubt, that he would follow his father’s footsteps and enter into the family business.
Jordan couldn’t see himself ever donning a suit and sitting behind a desk deciding which business would go under and which would make it another year. The family business disgusted him.
His computer chimed again and Jordan entered his bedroom, shifting his thoughts to the compelling Miss Amber Stone. He needed to Google her, learn what he could about his social organizer. Grandfather would have hired the best, and if he intentionally chose her because of her looks, Jordan would soon learn the truth to that. He wouldn’t put it past Grandfather to arrange for Jordan to spend time with a young woman on the pretense of marriage, but then throw a gorgeous employee into the loop to challenge Jordan’s scruples.
Jordan sipped his coffee, knowing he’d have to get an appetite for the sandwich later. He wouldn’t be going down to dinner at seven. Miss Amber Stone would be more likely to show up at midnight if she didn’t know who he was. He’d rather seduce her anonymously. Just thinking about her smooth skin, her petite, curvy body, and all of that long, thick hair drained all blood from his brain to his cock. He stared at his laptop screen, not focusing on it, as he imagined how he’d take Amber in the barn later tonight.
Chat boxes now covered his screen and he studied them, noting the time as he did. He would wait an hour and then let Cook know he wouldn’t be down for dinner. The most recent chat box, which was front and center on his screen and above the others, grabbed his attention. The name on the top of the box was Anton_Admin2000.
“Crap,” he complained, reading the message in the box.
Your Grandfather wishes you to call at your earliest convenience.
Jordan X’d out the box, read the instant messages from the others, and X’d out each of those. Two of his workhands sent messages from their phones, both comments about the ranch. He grabbed a small notepad from his laptop case, jotted down a few notes so he could address their concerns later, and then grabbed his phone.
Mary Rhodes was a good lady, and he shouldn’t ignore her message. They were casual lovers at best, and right now he had bigger fish to fry. That is, if he could catch them first. He X’d out her box after reading the message she’d sent from her phone as well. More than likely she instant messaged her friends from her phone while sitting at the combination diner, country store, and post office in Big Timber. He would have told Mary he’d be gone for a month, but Mary saw most of the ranchers and a lot of the ranch hands. Asking her not to mention that Aunt Penelope’s ranch-hand supervisor would be gone for a month might mean asking more than she could do.
Taking his phone to the comfortable-looking chair alongside his large bed, he relaxed, putting thoughts of Mary out of his head. It had been a couple of months since he’d taken her out, and if she were hinting for another date, he would avoid answering her for as long as possible. The news would get out soon enough that he wasn’t on Big Sky Ranch.
Placing the dreaded call, Jordan set the notepad and pen on the table next to the chair and then put his phone on speaker.
“Anton Enterprises,” the secretary answered on the second ring.
“Pierre Anton, please.”
“Mr. Anton doesn’t take phone calls,” she informed him, her voice clipped and indifferent.
“This is his grandson, Jordan Anton.”
“One moment, please,” she told him, using the same tone.
Jordan sat through the silent hold, his thoughts again drifting to Amber Stone. What was she doing right now?
“Pierre Anton’s office.” Grandfather Anton’s right-hand man and primary bully, Pablo Diego, spoke with a husky voice that broke up through the speakerphone.
“Pablo, it’s Jordan. I received your message on the computer.”
Pablo didn’t answer, more than likely watching Jordan’s grandfather, who’d probably raised his hand for silence. Grandfather enjoyed making anyone around him wait for an audience. It was all about the power trip.
Jordan’s thoughts wandered as he shifted his attention to his closed bedroom door. It had been longer than he remembered since he’d sat in the middle of the afternoon and done nothing, as he was doing now. And he didn’t like it. Amber didn’t strike him as the kind of woman accustomed to doing nothing either. She was a working woman, more than likely having built her reputation by putting in long hours and appearing tireless at all times. Would she exert the same energy sexually? What he’d seen of her so far—her