Bet You'll Marry Me Read Free Page A

thought was to reach down and draw out her boot knife, but before she could react, his warm lips brushed across her own.
    What perverse, mind-warping insanity led her to think she could stop the bets? Here it was, six years since the last time her name was on the chalkboard, and she hadn’t learned her lesson. She was still humiliating herself in front of everyone in this confounded café!
    â€œMy money’s on Chandler.” Old Levi MacGowan’s voice rang out as more gasps and guffaws erupted around them.
    Jenny pushed away from the brash newcomer and retaliated with a slap. A hard slap. She caught her breath as the left side of his tanned face turned a glorious dark pink.
    Chandler didn’t flinch. The hit must have stung like the spines of a devil’s club plant, yet it didn’t stop him from smiling at her or looking at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
    With all the courage she could muster, she held her head high and walked out the door.
    Nick stared after her, transfixed by her fleeing image. She wore no makeup. She didn’t need to. With her eyes flashing like a dark blue thunderstorm and her auburn hair whipping around the room every time she turned her head, she was a natural beauty. But it was the look of concern flickering across her face after she smacked his cheek that caught his attention. And the uncertainty in her eyes as she walked away.
    The ranch hand he’d met earlier that day slapped his back and placed a congratulatory beer in his hands. “Bolder than a bugling bull elk in rut,” said Wayne Freeman, shaking his head. “A little too bold, if you ask me.”
    Nick grinned. “Care to bet on that?”
    â€œNot if I want to keep my job.” The sandy-haired man nodded toward the door. “You just butted horns with my boss.”
    A FTER CHECKING INTO the Pine Hotel, the only one in the flea-sized Northwest town, Nick went to his room and called N.L.C. Industries. He glanced at the clock while listening to his cell phone ring, calculating the time difference between the East and West Coasts. It was after four thirty in New York but his vice president, Rob Murray, would still be there, even on a Saturday.
    â€œDid you meet with the O’Brien woman?” asked Rob, his tone anxious.
    Nick rubbed the left side of his face. “Yeah, we just had our first encounter.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œShe may take a little more time than I anticipated. Instead of a weekend, I might have to stay out here in Washington a few weeks.”
    â€œWeeks? What if, after all that time, you still can’t sweet-talk the land away from her?”
    â€œI might have to do more than sweet-talk. When I got here I learned I’m not the only one interested in getting my hands on her property. Some of the locals are willing to marry her for it.”
    â€œMarriage?” Rob repeated. “You can’t be serious.”
    â€œI don’t see any other way. If I don’t marry her, someone else will. Then we’ll never get the land.”
    Nick recalled the honest emotion racing across the redheaded beauty’s face. Jenny O’Brien was not like any of the other fake, flirting, foraging females he’d dealt with most of his life. As far as he could tell, there wasn’t anything phony about her, something he found irresistibly refreshing. It also made him feel like a first-rate jerk for having to deceive her.
    â€œWhy you?” asked Rob. “Isn’t there someone else who can seduce the woman?”
    â€œNo one I can trust to get the job done right.”
    â€œOf course,” Rob said, his voice lit with amusement. “So who’s going to run the company while you’re gone?”
    â€œYou are. Think you can handle it?”
    â€œYes, sir!”
    â€œI’ll do what I can from here on my laptop, but I might not be able to check in with you every day. And, Rob?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œDon’t