people were coming forward saying he was the one who’d started those nasty rumors.
Now, even though his innocence had been proven on the murder charge and Ponzi issue, he still needed a serious image makeover if he expected to win the club’s leadership spot.
And she intended to give him that fresh start, with some help from Jesse Stevens. Wrestling her bedraggled umbrella, she trudged ahead another couple of steps.
Were those lights flickering ahead? Hope and wariness jockeyed inside her. She was so very cold and soggy. But this also wasn’t Houston, with her high-rise condo secured by round-the-clock guards.
She pulled one hand from the umbrella and reached inside her coat to her cross-body bag, fumbling for her can of Mace.
The lights drew closer, grew stronger, until the glow focused into two beams. High off the ground. A truck. The driver’s-side door swung wide and a large, looming figure jumped out, ducking into the rain while holding his Stetson in place.
She gripped her Mace harder. She’d taken self-defense classes in college, but she was seriously off-balance with one broken heel and the other spiked into the mud.
“Ma’am, what are you doing out here tonight? Are you waiting for a tow truck?”
That voice. It couldn’t be… But her ears told her it was. After all, she’d spent countless hours watching videos of Jesse Stevens giving interviews, memorized them, in fact, to decide the best tactic for approaching him. She tilted her head to catch sight of his face below the brim to confirm.
And she gasped.
No picture could do him justice. Even with the Stetson covering his blond hair, he bore the look of a cowboy Viking. An image she found difficult to let go of once it came to life in her mind.
Spluttering on a mouthful of rain, she tucked her Mace can back into her purse, no longer needing protection.
She should have suspected the truck could belong to Jesse Stevens. She was near his ranch, after all. But still, weren’t the odds higher it would be one of his employees rather than him at this hour, in the rain?
Yet there was no doubting who this man was, even in the dark with just his headlights slicing through the night. She’d done her research on the man and his spread well before this excursion to meet him, persuade him.
But she wasn’t ready to let him know who she was. Not just yet. She swallowed hard. “My car won’t start, and the cell reception is garbage out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Speaking as the landlord of the Middle of Nowhere, I’ve never had any trouble with mine.” Rain dripped from the brim of his hat as he towered over her. “You should check with your provider.”
Was that irony or irritation coating his words?
Not good if she’d already made him angry. This would be over before it started.
She longed for higher heels to make her taller, closer to his eye level. “I’ll be sure to look into my provider as soon as I find dry clothes. If you could just help me call for a tow, I’ll get my suitcase so I can change. I’m freezing to death.”
It was cold for Texas, even in December.
“Your car’s not going anywhere tonight, ma’am. And there’s no way either of us should risk walking back over to your vehicle to retrieve your luggage. The ground could give way at any time.”
Her foot slipped. She looked quickly at him. “It’s just my broken shoe.”
Then her other foot shot out from under her. She lurched to the side, her umbrella whipping away in the wind. Her arms pinwheeled as she lost her balance, tumbling toward the rushing swell of water alongside the dirt road.
Strong hands clasped her waist and stopped her fall. Before she could catch her breath, he’d hauled her against his chest. His warm breath fanned her cheek.
“Are you all right?”
Other than goose bumps that had nothing to do with the cold because she was in the arms of a Viking cowboy? “I’m fine.” Her words came out husky. “Thank you.”
“What are you doing out here this time of night in such crummy weather?” Thunder rolled in the distance.
She braced her palms on his impossibly broad shoulders and looked straight into Jesse Stevens’s emerald green eyes. “I’m looking for you.”
Jesse Stevens held the drenched woman against him, her willowy body enticing even through her soaked raincoat and his hastily-tossed-on jacket. He’d been making a last check of the horses, concerned about the thunder spooking them, when he’d seen the car lights. He’d been surprised, not expecting anyone until tomorrow. Not that he was complaining.
The matchmaker he’d hired had outdone herself in sending this candidate.
He wondered which of the three contenders this was—the single mom, the veterinarian or the Miss Texas pageant runner-up. This woman certainly could be the latter, and that might explain the high heels and flashy car choice. The height seemed to be right, based on the stats in her profile. Although it was difficult to tell much in the dark. He was definitely curious to learn more about the husky-voiced siren. All the more reason to resist the temptation to hold on for an extra second or two.
Stepping back, he still cupped her elbow. Just to make sure she didn’t lose her balance, of course. “Are you okay? You weren’t hurt when your car spun out, were you?”
She nodded, pulling one foot, then the other, out of the mud. “I’m fine, thank you. I truly didn’t expect the weather to get this bad.”
Given her slick trench and Porsche, she had more of a city-girl vibe that he had doubts would hold up out here. But the matchmaker would have told her about him and his rural lifestyle. He’d sure filled out a checklist of his criteria for the kind of woman he was looking for.
“Ma’am, the road is at risk of giving way further. You need to get to safety. My truck can take an alternate path that’s not accessible to the public.”
“Let’s go, then.” She started forward, her purse tucked tight to her side, but her foot sank deeper into the mud, stopping her progress. Sighing, she cursed under her breath. Like a sailor, no less.
An unexpected surprise. She had grit to go along with all of that glam. He could still feel the imprint of her against him.
She glanced up at him, her eyelashes spiky wet, her ponytail slick and sleek down the front of her coat. “The heels aren’t holding up well out here.”
“Then I’ll carry you.” He wasn’t sure where the invitation came from, but now that he’d said it, the idea had taken root. An appealing option, and with each passing second, an increasingly necessary one.
“Whoa, wait.” She held up a manicured hand, with two chipped nails and another broken. “That’s a bit extreme.”
“Ma’am…” He smiled. “The longer we talk, the worse the roads will be. And I don’t know
