would be no winner when he and Ty revealed their true identities and returned to their respective homes.
Maybe trading places hadn’t been such a clever idea after all.
Chapter Three
It wasn’t a dream.
Dex sat up in bed just as the rising sun spilled its warm glow across the aged hardwood floor. Morning had arrived with a good deal more pomp and circumstance than Dex was accustomed to. The crowing of a rooster and the clanging of pots were sounds he could have gone the rest of his life without hearing at the crack of dawn.
His valet George always greeted him promptly at 6:00 a.m. with a tray of steaming coffee and an array of newspapers. The day’s wardrobe awaited him in the dressing room when he completed his morning workout and shower. By 9:00 a.m. he was at the office ready to work.
But not today.
Sometime during the night as he tossed and turned he had made his decision. He would consider this a mini-vacation at a rather rustic resort. There was no reason not to relax and enjoy. He would have a much-needed, whether he chose to admit the need or not, break from the pressure of running a major medical corporation, and he would learn about the Coopers.
When he and Ty were ready they would go public. But not yet.
Dex threw the covers back and climbed out of bed. The wood floor felt cool beneath his feet, a definite contrast to the plush carpeting of his own bedroom. He strode over to a large armoire, which he had ascertained last night was in lieu of a closet. Scowling, he rifled through it. The shirts were all alike in design, the colors varied slightly.
Disgusted by the lack of selection, he dragged a shirt from its hanger and went to the bureau in search of pants. He found several pairs of scruffy-looking jeans and selected the least offensive pair. In another drawer he found white tube socks. For the boots, he supposed with a grimace.
From the duffel bag he retrieved a pair of his own underwear. He drew the line at wearing another man’s shorts.
Since he found no robe, he tugged on the jeans and slipped into the hall, scanning warily for any of the Cooper clan. Silence ruled on the second floor. Everyone appeared to have gone downstairs already.
Good.
Dex padded down the hall to the communal bathroom. Though large and well stocked with linens and bath accessories, it was singular nonetheless. He lowered the toilet lid and placed his attire for the day there. He tried locking the door but, after several frustrated failures, gave up. The latch wouldn’t work. Everyone was downstairs anyway, why sweat it? He grabbed a towel from the linen closet and slung it over the shower curtain rod. After peeling off the jeans, he adjusted the water to an inviting temperature and then stepped beneath the hot spray.
His eyes closed in appreciation. Dex relaxed for the first time since this adventure had begun.
Despite his best intentions not to think about her again, the image of Leanne Watley filled his mind. Those big blue eyes and that silky blond hair. His gut clenched at the thought of threading his fingers in those lovely tresses. The feel of her lips against his jaw sent a stab of desire straight to his loins. His body reacted instantly and his mind conjured up Leanne’s even more enticing assets.
He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about her that way. Forcing his eyes open, he banished the image. If anything, she was Ty’s girlfriend. He wasn’t Ty. He couldn’t allow this thing to progress.
“Fool,” he muttered.
Dex grabbed the bar of soap and began soaping his body. He didn’t need any complications during his stay here. He had to keep this simple.
For all parties concerned.
Rinsing his well-lathered body he frowned when his gaze halted at his feet. He cocked his head away from the spray and stared at the water swirling around his feet and then down the drain. He looked at the soap in his hand, it was blue. Then why was the water going down the drain tinted green?
An explosion of giggles launched him into action. Dex jerked the shower curtain open. Court’s sons, the four-year-old twins, stood next to the tub, an empty mouthwash bottle in their hands.
“What are you doing?” Dex demanded.
The two dark-haired boys looked first at each other, then at Dex. They dropped the plastic container and ran for their lives in a flash of Scooby-Doo pajamas, leaving the door wide open and shouting, “Mornin’, Uncle Ty!”
Swearing under his breath, Dex stamped over to the door, leaving a trail of water on the tile floor, and slammed it shut. He whipped back around and almost fell in his haste. Catching himself, he retraced, much more slowly this time, his path. As soon as he’d washed his hair and rinsed the soap from his skin, he dried himself and the floor.
He thought about the bean-throwing incident and then the mouthwash. Didn’t anyone discipline these children?
As a child he was never allowed to behave in such a manner. His grandparents had ensured his proper training from the age of four. Though he’d never had a nanny, at least not that he could recall. He remembered clearly the first day George, his valet, began his employment as Dex’s teacher and mentor to the finer points of etiquette.
Dex stared at his reflection in the mirror and wondered what George would think of him now. Pretending to be someone else and wearing this getup. Give him Armani any day. George would likely shake his regal head and make that annoying tsking sound. Since he wasn’t here, Dex didn’t have to worry about that.
Back in Ty’s room, Dex tugged on the cursed boots. His feet ached even before he stood. The gift on the bureau snagged his attention again.
Would it be perceived as odd if he didn’t open the present right away? Would his seeming indifference to the act of generosity hurt his grandmother’s feelings? He sighed. He had no choice but to open it.
Dex placed his hands on either side of the box and hesitated still. His heart thundered in his chest. This was ridiculous. It was just a present. It wasn’t even for him. Not really. The gesture meant nothing to him personally. He removed the lid, the scent of leather filling his nostrils, and studied the gift beneath. Leather chaps. The perfect gift for a cowboy, he supposed ruefully. He picked up the note from inside the box and read it.
Ty, I knew you needed a new set of chaps but wouldn’t buy any for yourself. Your old ones out in the tack room are being recycled. A welcome-home present seemed like a good enough reason to buy new ones for you.
Love, Gran.
Dex closed his eyes and struggled with the emotions suddenly churning inside him. The Montgomerys never did little things like this for each other. He stared at the note once more. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d received a personal note from his grandparents. If either of them wanted to tell him anything they sent a message with a member of the household staff or his personal secretary. They didn’t bother with personal notes.
But then, the Montgomerys had other assets. Just because he was angry with them at the moment didn’t mean he failed to recognize how much they loved him. Gifts such as this were never necessary. Dex always had everything he wanted given to him well before he needed it.
The Coopers had nothing on the
