In The Cowboy's Arms. Vicki Thompson Lewis

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In The Cowboy's Arms - Vicki Thompson Lewis

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damning. She understood why he wanted to put a different spin on the encounter, but that strategy could backfire into a he-said-she-said nightmare. “It makes no difference who started it. If we jump on the story right away we can take control of the narrative before it gets blown out of proportion.”

      “I see.”

      His icy tone made her blink. One glance at his face told her that a wall had gone up. She’d seen that protective shield a couple of times before and had thought the device would serve him well in a brutal business. But employing it against her was counterproductive. “Matt, listen. We can—”

      “Sorry, ma’am.” He stood and put on his hat and shades. “But I’m outta here.”

      “Wait!” She leaped up. “You can’t leave now. It’ll look like you’re running away.”

      “That’s fine with me.” He turned toward the door.

      “Where are you going?”

      “Home.”

      * * *

      The minute Matt stepped out on the sidewalk they were on him with their cameras, mikes and invasive questions. Must be a slow news day if someone had tracked him over here. Too bad he hadn’t called a cab. None were in sight, either.

      He shouldered his way through what felt like a mob, but was only five or six reporters, and sprinted toward the nearest bus stop. Three years of running all over town auditioning for commercials had forced him to memorize the public transportation system. There was a bus stop a couple of blocks from here. Thanks to a rigorous training schedule, he was in shape.

      He outran the paparazzi and caught the bus right before it pulled away from the curb. After paying the fare he sank gratefully into a seat. Adrenaline plus the blast of A/C made him shiver as he ran through his options.

      Going back to his apartment wouldn’t work. Even if he made it inside without being accosted, he’d be a virtual prisoner in there until this thing died down. He believed it would. That was what he’d expected Geena to say.

      She was a super-smart lady. A little nerdy, but he liked that about her. Tall and slender, she dressed in conservative suits and wore her brown hair up in an arrangement on top of her head. She had a sexy librarian thing going on that had fascinated him from the get-go.

      When she was thinking real hard she took off her glasses and stuck them in her hairdo. He’d envisioned her thinking hard about this mess and coming up with a plan that included hustling him out the back entrance of the building. Then she’d hire a car to spirit him away to some remote cabin in the mountains for a week or so.

      He’d even fantasized that she’d take time off and go with him. They could strategize how to deal with this and...yeah, get cozy in the cabin. He’d allowed his brain to come up with an intimate scenario that would never happen, but it had been fun to think about.

      Instead, she wanted him to publicly apologize for something he hadn’t done and then become proactive by supporting animal rescue. He loved helping a good cause, and animal rescue was dear to his heart. His foster father had devoted his life to a well-respected practice as a large-animal vet.

      But Matt balked at using homeless animals as a publicity stunt to prove he was a nice guy. Her plan sucked, but that wasn’t the worst part. The real kicker was realizing that Geena believed he’d done what Briana had accused him of.

      He felt like ending the relationship with her PR company ASAP, but that was a knee-jerk reaction. He’d give himself time to think about it before doing anything drastic. Aside from being attracted to her, he also liked her and admired that she’d built the company herself. She looked too young to be the head of the firm, and once he’d asked her how old she was. Turned out she was twenty-seven, same as him.

      Being near her gave him a buzz, no question, and he’d caught her giving him the eye, too.

      He’d debated asking her to dinner to see what might happen. He’d come close to doing it once, but he wasn’t sure if asking his PR rep for a date would be an unprofessional move. Making that call wasn’t easy in an industry where the lines seemed to blur, but in the end he’d decided to err on the side of caution.

      When it came to Briana Danvers, though, his thoughts had been crystal clear. During the filming of Preston’s Revenge she’d kissed him like she meant it, but he’d never for one second contemplated making a move in private, let alone in a public setting. If Geena thought he had, then she’d seriously misjudged him.

      Being blamed for something he didn’t do was a hot button. His mom used to do it all the time. Thanks to some counseling, now he could handle the issue if he didn’t respect the person doing the judging. But he respected Geena and it bothered him that she thought he could have made a move on Cliff Wallace’s wife.

      So much for his fantasy of spending a few days in a cabin with her. If she wouldn’t help him get the hell out of Dodge, he’d take care of it himself. When he’d told her he was going home, he’d meant Thunder Mountain Ranch where his foster parents lived. They’d saved his bacon when his mom had left him years ago, and ever since then he’d considered them his true family along with his foster brothers.

      Rosie and Herb Padgett had been a godsend for many boys caught between a rock and a hard place. But these days, instead of taking in foster kids, they’d opened a residential equine academy for older teens. Much as he wanted to go home, showing up when classes were in session was inconsiderate, especially now that he was a hot item in the scandal sheets.

      He used to wonder if he’d ever be famous enough to appear on the cover of the magazines in racks at the grocery store. Thanks to Briana, now he was. They’d plastered that picture everywhere, and one tabloid had dredged up a stock photo of Cliff looking outraged. It’d implied that had been Cliff’s reaction. Probably had been, and Matt hated that.

      If he could hide out at the ranch for a few days, he wouldn’t have to keep seeing those tabloids. A quick check of the Thunder Mountain Academy site on his phone brought good news. The spring session had ended two days ago and summer classes wouldn’t start for another week. That meant everyone would be busy preparing the cabins and the rec hall for the next batch of kids.

      He could help with that, but first he had to get on a plane. He hadn’t paid attention to what bus he’d used to escape the reporters, but this one wouldn’t take him to the airport. A few transfers would confuse his pursuers if he still had any, and he could make plane reservations on the way.

      His tickets, one to Denver and a separate one on a commuter to the Sheridan County Airport, cost a ridiculous amount. Then again, he was making a ridiculous amount, enough for first class on the LA to Denver leg. He’d considered that briefly, because he didn’t fit comfortably in coach, but flying up front would only draw more attention.

      Besides, he hated spending money on something so transitory as a bigger seat on the plane. He preferred investing in more permanent pleasures. He’d sunk a good portion of his earnings into a fixer-upper ranch not far from Thunder Mountain. He’d bought it sight unseen as a sanctuary from the craziness of LA, not knowing just how crazy things could get.

      Rosie and Herb had checked out the place before he’d signed the papers and they’d assured him it would be beautiful once he gave it some TLC. Although he wouldn’t have much time to do that on this trip, he couldn’t wait to see it.

      Too bad he had to be back in LA so soon, but some publicity gigs

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