At The Playboy's Command. Robyn Grady
told Daniel she wasn’t a child, but the truth was Chadwick Tremain made her feel like a minor. A mere girl with no rights. She was a twenty-five-year-old woman with a sharp mind. A mind of her own.
Chad didn’t think she needed to “go overboard.”
She clasped her hands on the table before her. “Kindly have your office transfer the amount I’ve stipulated into the shelter’s account today.”
“Elizabeth, I’m telling you in my professional opinion—”
“And I’m telling you that you are my advisor, not my keeper.”
“Your father wanted your affairs looked after.”
“I can look after my own affairs.”
“In the will—”
Her fist thumped on the wood. “I’m sick of hearing about that will!”
Chad’s head snapped back. For a moment, Elizabeth thought he might raise his voice at her. But then he skipped a glance around the room and saw that no one was near enough to notice her outburst. He smoothed the line of his royal-blue tie, the one with which he always wore his diamond pin.
She’d never liked that tie.
“I should be on my way.” She stood.
So did Chad. “I wish you wouldn’t leave like this.”
She stopped, remembered how fond her father had been of this man and pulled in a leveling breath.
“I’m not ungrateful for your help—”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“But I don’t need your help.” When his face fell like a boy who’d been told his dog had run away, she softened the blow. “Or not as much as I may have in the past.” She thought of eighteen-year-old Daniel standing up to his parents and cutting his ties, and she lifted her chin.
“Make that transfer, please, Chad.”
As she walked out and onto Main, Elizabeth clasped her hands at her chest. Still she couldn’t stop them shaking. She’d never felt so energized. So on edge. She’d accepted her lot with regard to the ranch. Had embraced it. Why had Daniel Warren come along and turned everything upside down?
“We ‘re having a guest again tonight,” Elizabeth announced to Nita as she entered the Milton Ranch kitchen on the way through to her room.
Nita set down her chopping knife and followed Elizabeth down the main hall and up the stairs. “Anyone I know?”
Grinning, Elizabeth shrugged out of her jacket. “Yes, Nita. It’s Daniel Warren.”
“I’m glad to hear you sorted out your differences.”
In her bedroom, Elizabeth reached behind and unzipped her dress, remembering this morning when she’d arrived at his hotel suite door and found the courage to let him know how she’d felt. Now that time spent in Daniel’s arms, in his bed, seemed like some wild fantasy. A dream. She could easily believe she’d imagined the whole amazing interlude except for the tingling afterglow still warming her skin and the fact they were seeing each other again tonight. She wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She had every intention of repeating the experience.
As far as having sorted out their differences …
“Let’s say,” Elizabeth said, slipping off her shoes, “we’ve come to an understanding.”
“Glad to hear it. I’ll let my mother know I’ll be over tomorrow instead.”
An earlier conversation flashed to mind and Elizabeth wheeled around from her set of drawers. “Nita, I completely forgot.”
Mrs. Ramirez lived in the next town. The following day was the anniversary of her husband’s death, Nita’s father. Nita liked to keep her mother company and stay overnight.
But Nita was shaking it off. “I’ll go tomorrow. I’ll be there early.”
Elizabeth dug some riding breeches from a drawer. “Don’t you dare change your plans.”
“You’re not going to cook.” Slipping a polishing rag from her pocket, Nita rubbed over the oak dresser. “You don’t want to frighten the boy off. Then again, your mother couldn’t flip an egg. Didn’t stop your dad from proposing.”
Pulling on the breeches, Elizabeth paused to give the older woman a pointed look. “Nita, I’m not marrying Daniel Warren.”
“Did I say that you were?”
Nita concentrated on polishing the same spot on the dresser while Elizabeth, shaking her head fondly, shimmied into a checked shirt then dropped onto the edge of the bed, socks in hand. She was feeling restless, to say the least. The best way to work off energy was to jump in a saddle and charge off for a long, hard ride over the plains.
Her father had taught her to ride. Even how to rope on horseback. Although he’d denied it, Elizabeth knew her dad was disappointed he hadn’t had a son, particularly when she’d begun to show more than an interest in doing her nails and face and hair. Then came her unquenchable curiosity in all things outside of the Lone Star State. Although contained now, that curiosity hadn’t waned.
Nita moved on to polishing the bed headboard. “Why don’t you take him to Claire’s?”
Finished slipping on her socks, Elizabeth pushed to her feet. “Good idea.”
Intimate atmosphere, scrumptious cuisine, Claire’s was the finest restaurant in Royal. This evening the usual Friday night regulars would be there, Chad included.
Elizabeth’s mouth twisted to one side.
Maybe she ought to reconsider defrosting some ribs and firing up the grill.
“Is there anything you need before I head off?” Nita had moved to hang Elizabeth’s jacket.
“I’ll be fine.” She dropped a kiss on Nita’s cheek and gave her arm a squeeze. “Give my best to your mom.”
“Don’t forget that dessert’s in the fridge if Daniel wants a slice.”
“Enough with the organizing.” Elizabeth playfully shepherded Nita out her door. “Go.”
As Nita moved down the hall, Elizabeth thought she heard a car. She moved to a window. No visitors but the flamingos caught her eye. Before heading out for her ride, she’d make sure Chad had organized the payment for the shelter.
She lowered into the chair set before her desk and laptop, brought up her email account and smiled. A message from Chad, brief, formal. He’d transferred the money to the shelter and for the amount she’d requested.
Elizabeth mentally punched the air.
Score one for the kid.
As she shut down the browser, the screen saver appeared, a picture of a hauntingly beautiful Scottish castle she’d visited one vacation. She wanted to see Australia next, but needed more time if she was going to see everything in one trip. She had to experience snorkeling over a coral shelf in the Great Barrier Reef. Climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge, overlooking stretched blue silk waters and the enormous sails of the Opera House, was a must. No way would she miss visiting the Red Centre, watching the sun set over massive Uluru and absorbing a masterpiece created from God’s personal palette.
And there was so much more.
The generations-old hall clock struck the first of twelve. Elizabeth blinked back to reality and held the empty feeling that suddenly invaded her stomach.
Her mother had introduced her to the travel bug when they’d suggested boarding school in Europe. Neither of her parents