A Baby by Chance Read online

  Chance took it for her and headed for the parking area. “How’d you get to Lost Springs?”

  “Taxi, so we’ll have to use your pickup truck.” That, too, had been planned.

  Chance ground to a halt. “How’d you know what I drive?” He turned to confront her. His eyes turned the deep, stormy blue of a mountain lake.

  Madison shrugged. “You are a cowboy, after all.” She paused. “What else do cowboys drive?”

  “Depends on the cowboy, I expect.” Chance studied her shrewdly even as he accepted her answer, then resumed walking and led her to a truck that had seen better days, the outside splattered with mud and grime. He opened the door and slipped her suitcase, then the flowers, behind the long bench seat.

  He held out a hand to help her up. Madison tucked her palm in his larger one. Ignoring the rush of tingling warmth his touch generated, she started to step up and, to her embarrassment, immediately hit a snag. Her skirt was too short and too tight to allow her to bring her knee up as far as was required to boost herself into the cab—without revealing more than she intended to, that is.

  Watching, Chance said dryly, “Need some help?” Madison noted with chagrin he didn’t seem to mind how much leg she showed.

  “Unless I suddenly sprout wings and fly,” she said, trying her best not to look as self-conscious as she felt, “it would appear so.”

  Chance tipped his hat. “Toss your purse in,” he ordered.

  Bristling at having been ordered around, Madison obeyed.

  “Okay, step in close and put your arms around my shoulders.”

  Trying her best to appear cool, calm and collected when she felt anything but, Madison swallowed and did as directed. The feel of her palms on his broad shoulders was electrifying, but to her mounting exasperation he did nothing to transport her into the cab of his truck. As they continued to stand there, snug as two peas in a pod, she tilted her head to his.

  Chance’s eyes twinkled merrily. They were at the end of the parking area, where a grassy slope angled downward toward the soccer field. In the distance was a heart-stirring view of the far-off Wind River Range. With the sun high overhead, casting a golden sheen on the broken-backed mountains, swaying grasses and sage fields beyond Lost Springs, Madison felt as if they were caught in a sensual tableau. One that was as enticing and seductive—and ultimately false—as any commercial she’d ever created. “Explain to me how exactly this is going to help?” she queried.

  “It isn’t. I just thought it’d be fun to see if we fit together like lock and key. Apparently—” Chance favored her with an unexpectedly wicked grin “—we do.”

  Shocked, Madison dropped her arms and stepped back. No man had ever had the temerity to speak to her like that, never mind with a very sexy twinkle in his eyes. She planted both hands on her hips and gave him a withering look. Had she not had a very important business deal to tend to, she would have given him his walking papers, pronto. It was clear she had a bad boy on her hands. Cheeks flaming hotly, eyes flashing, she regarded him sternly. “You’re not going to be all that easy to handle, are you?”

  “No, ma’am, I guess I’m not easy,” he retorted, and for the barest second there seemed to be some hidden meaning in his words. “But don’t you fret none, ’cause I do go down okay at night.” He paused, and at her startled expression continued with comically exaggerated solemnity. “You know, out on the ranch, you go down for the night.”

  Oh, Madison thought with relief.

  “Sort of like going down for the count in boxing.” Chance paused. He removed his hat and ran his hands through the rumpled layers of his curly hair. Another beat of silence passed. He narrowed his eyes and peered down his nose at her. “What’d you think I meant?”

  A fiery heat climbed into her face as Madison blushed. “That’s just it. I didn’t know what you meant,” she mumbled. But images of ways to make love had crowded her mind at his words. And they were images of making love with him—long, slow, incredibly passionate love. She told herself sternly to get a grip. This was business. Even if Chance didn’t know it yet.

  Determined to get the upper hand, Madison drew a bracing breath and put her hands on his shoulders. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

  “You’re the boss.” Just that quickly, Chance slipped one arm around her back, the other beneath her knees. He swung her off her feet, cradled her possessively against his chest and lifted her into the cab. Unfortunately, in her haste to be rid of him, she sat down too quickly, and his arm and hand got caught between her thighs and the bench seat. Worse, her short skirt had hiked up almost to her panties. Mortified at the feel of his warm palm and sinewy forearm trapped beneath her panty hose and the tingles of awareness that was creating deep inside her, Madison froze.

  “You’re going to have to lift up if you want me to get my arm out,” Chance told her. “On the other hand—” he glanced at her and grinned, obviously content with the close contact “—we could stay like this for a while.” He shrugged good-humoredly. “Up to you.”

  Madison gripped the dash, and using it for leverage, raised herself up. “Just get your arm out of there. Now!” she demanded, refusing to let his antics intimidate her. Nothing in her research had told her he was such a hellion. But then, she hadn’t exactly talked to anyone he had dated. Just those who knew of his business reputation, which had been stellar. And of his penchant for personal privacy, which had been unremitting. Nevertheless, she knew she could handle whatever roadblocks he tossed her way. He was a fool to think she couldn’t.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Chance slid his hand across the seat, just missing the backs of her thighs as he did so. Still grinning appreciatively at the unexpected contact, he circled the cab and slid behind the wheel while Madison tugged at her skirt, finding it wouldn’t go anywhere near her knees.

  “You’re going to have to sit over here.” Chance patted the middle of the bench seat.

  Given the tomfoolery that had just occurred, she couldn’t help but regard the area next to him as if it were a moat full of crocodiles. “And why, pray tell, is that?”

  Chance angled a thumb in her direction. “Seat belt next to the door doesn’t work. And I insist everyone who rides with me wear a seat belt. Safety, you know. So you’ll have to sit here.” Chance patted the place beside him again.

  Madison, who was still on fire from where they had touched, swiftly decided they did not need to be sitting that close. Not now or at any other time. Doing so would take her mind off business. “I’m sure I can get it to work,” she said cheerfully. She tugged at the shoulder harness. And tugged. And twisted. And tugged some more. He was right. It was stuck. So Madison did the only thing she could do under the circumstances. She scooted beside him. “Maybe I’ll just sit over here.”

  One hand draped loosely over the wheel, Chance regarded her drolly. “Good idea,” he said, and started the engine.

  As she tried to get comfortable, it soon became clear Madison had a choice. She could sit with her legs straddling the hump, which meant that her knees would be apart. Not a good idea. Or she could tuck her thighs together and keep her ankles to the right of the hump, which forced her weight, and her thighs, to brush against the side of his jeans-clad legs.

  Meanwhile, she was having more trouble trying to fasten this seat belt than the other one. In her attempt, she ended up bumping arms and shoulders, hips and thighs with Chance. Perspiration beaded her lip. He looked just as tense and uncomfortable.

  Finally, he said brusquely, “Why don’t you let me help?” And then did. Accomplishing in two seconds what she had been trying to do for two minutes.

  “Now,” he turned to her and asked, “all set?”

  As well as out of breath. Madison wasn’t used to feeling so darn aware of a man she would be working with.

  His heated glance slowly scanned her face. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” I just don’t like the fact that you got the upper hand between us without even half trying. Madison force
d a smile and struggled unsuccessfully against a blush. “Why?”

  He paid no attention to the running motor or the cool air coming out of the dash air conditioner. “You’re breathing kind of hard.”

  More heat flooded Madison’s cheeks. Sitting this close to him had caused a greater reaction than she’d bargained for. There was a tingling in her stomach. Her thighs were fluid, her knees suspiciously wobbly. Higher still, a buttery warmth spread across her chest, culminating in her breasts. “It’s the heat,” Madison said flatly. It had to be. She did not get this turned on just sitting next to a man, no matter how ruggedly handsome he happened to be.

  Chance sent her a sideways glance as he backed his truck out of the parking space and thrust it into gear. He drove carefully between the rows of vehicles, past the news vans that had been set up to cover the event, then onto the narrow lane that connected the ranch with the highway. A split rail fence lined one side of the road. In the distance, a herd of horses grazed in a sun-splashed pasture.

  “Doesn’t feel that hot to me,” Chance observed.

  Oh, yeah? Madison thought. Then why had a bead of perspiration broken out on his temple? And why did he suddenly appear every bit as physically aware of her as she was of him, she wondered, catching a whiff of his deliciously sexy leather and spice cologne.

  Chance stopped to make sure the road was clear. He looked both ways, then turned his truck onto the main highway. He continued to study her off and on as they headed in the general direction of the Wind River Range. “So, do you date a lot of cowboys or am I your first?” he prodded.

  Aware he had completely misinterpreted the reason for her interest in him, Madison studied the occasional stands of aspen and pine. “You’re my first.”

  “How come?”

  Madison shrugged. “I don’t meet any. I work in the city, remember?”

  He fidgeted in his seat, his hard-muscled thigh nudging her much softer one in the process. “Then who do you date?” he persisted.

  His questions were awfully personal. But maybe that was good, Madison thought. She needed them to get to know each other if she was going to persuade him to do what she wanted.

  “To be perfectly honest, I don’t normally date a lot.”

  Chance lifted a brow. “That a fact?” he asked, clearly disbelieving.

  Madison sighed, not sure how they’d gotten on this topic. Her personal life had been disappointing as far back as she could remember in just about every way. “Afraid so,” she said lightly.

  “Why not?”

  “No time.”

  He raised a brow.

  “I work in advertising,” Madison explained. “For one of the most demanding and high-paying firms around.”

  “I know that. Still, you must get plenty of offers.” Chance persisted, clearly more interested in her social life than her career.

  Madison watched Chance bypass the road to Lightning Creek, the closest town, and turn the truck onto the bridge that crossed Sand Creek. “I guess.”

  “And yet you turn them all down.”

  “Most of the time, yes.” Without so much as a regret. She didn’t believe in wasting time, hers or anyone else’s.

  He smiled. “So why—if you’re so particular about who you go out with—did you want to date me?” Chance asked lightly as they rounded a bend in the road. The sexy promise in his voice sent shivers of awareness racing across her skin.

  “You know why?” Madison spoke flirtatiously, ready to do whatever she needed to build his ego to the point where he’d agree to be spokesperson for the Ranchero campaign.

  Chance abruptly steered the pickup to the side of the road. He stopped so suddenly she lurched against him. The way he considered her, she knew she was going to have to come up with something convincing if she ever hoped to win his respect. “I liked your...smile.” And the way you fit into a pair of jeans, Madison added silently. “And...the way you pirouetted around on stage to make all the women laugh. And the roses. I liked the fact you thought to bring roses today.” She finished with a burst of inspiration.

  “It seemed the least I could do for anyone who helped the ranch out with a contribution. Still—” Chance paused dramatically as he gave her another supercharged look

  “—five thousand is a lot to pay for a date.”

  Madison drew a deep breath and steeled herself with resolve. “Like I said,” she retorted determinedly, “the money wasn’t really mine, and it’s going for a good cause—the boys’ ranch. I’m just here on behalf of my company.”

  “To grease the wheels...smooth the way to my cooperating with Connelly and Associates?”

  Madison was glad he was being so grown-up about this. “You’ve got my number, cowboy.”

  Without warning, he thrust the truck into gear and guided it onto the road so swiftly she lurched against him once again. “So what do you want to see first?” Chance asked long minutes later as he turned the pickup into a lane and drove beneath the wrought-iron archway of his Double Diamond Ranch.

  Madison studied the acres of velvety green pasture interspersed with wildflower-strewn meadows, rocky outcroppings and thick stands of cottonwood and blue spruce. A picturesque creek wound like a ribbon through the property. In the distance, the jagged peaks of the Wind River Range seemed closer. In between, the foothills were rimmed with juniper and sage. It was wild and civilized, beautiful and rugged all at once. Nearly two hours from town, awesomely untouched, with a dozen beautiful horses grazing here and there—the perfect place for an ad to be filmed. The perfect place for American Motor Vehicles’ latest product to be launched.

  Madison turned to Chance as they approached a small, two-story log-cabin-style ranch house and several barns. All were as immaculately maintained as the rest of the ranch. “First, I’d like to change.” She felt the pitch would go better if they were both wearing jeans, not just Chance.

  Something flickered in Chance’s eyes as he parked in front of the house, but was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. “Why change when you’re perfect just as you are?” he retorted glibly, cutting the engine.

  Madison told herself it wasn’t distrust she had seen. “Into jeans,” she explained, releasing the seat belt. She had to get him to stop looking at her legs or he’d never be able to concentrate on business. She’d counted at least ten surreptitious glances while he was driving.

  Unfortunately, Madison had the same problem getting out of the truck as she had getting in. It wasn’t possible to do it alone, at least not gracefully. She scooted to the edge of the seat. He was right there to open her door, a grin of sheer male anticipation on his face. “Put your hands on my shoulders,” he directed.

  And see if we fit like a lock and key again? “Very funny,” Madison said.

  Chance tilted the brim of his hat. “I’m serious.”

  “So am I,” Madison returned matter-of-factly. “I’m not falling for that again.” If they were going to talk business soon, she had to get things on a serious footing, pronto. “Just put your hands on my waist and lift me down, Chance. Now.”

  Chance shook his head in a way that let her know he thought she was foolish beyond words, then did as ordered, his hold on her firm, his action purposeful.

  Unfortunately, her plan to hold herself as physically aloof as possible during the transfer from truck to ground did not work. With nothing to hold on to, her arms flapped like a chicken. Thrown totally off balance, she crashed into him.

  “Whaddya know, you can fly,” he quipped upon contact as she slid down him, thigh to thigh, the full body contact even more disturbing than before. Sparks flew between them, visibly arousing both of them.

  Heart pounding, she pushed away from the hardness at the front of his jeans. Leave it to her to make a fool out of herself. Leave it to him to assist her in doing so. “Like I said,” she murmured tightly, “before we continue with this date of ours, I have got to get out of these clothes.” Especially this skirt!

  “Works for me,” Chance drawled,
letting go of her with visible reluctance. He reached behind the bench seat to pull out her suitcase, flowers and purse. “Since I don’t have a guest house you’ll have to bunk with me.” He shot her a look over his shoulder. “That okay?”

  Madison tried not to notice how delicious he smelled, how very clean and male. “Perfect.”

  They fell into step and headed for the covered front porch with the chain-held swing. “You sleep on the left or the right?” he teased.

  Madison’s spine stiffened. “I sleep alone.” Account or no, that was one thing they needed to get perfectly clear from the get-go.

  Chance quirked a brow and made no effort to mask his disappointment.

  “So if that means the sofa...” Madison continued, telling herself he was the only one disappointed. She didn’t mind the fact he was off-limits to her romantically at all. Men who constantly had to get the upper hand were not her type.

  Chance grinned as if he’d read her mind. “Not to worry. I’ve got a bed and a room just for you,” he drawled as he pushed open the door and ushered her in. “We’ll have to share the bathroom, but I reckon we can take turns. Unless you’re in a big hurry. Then I guess we could shower at the same time.”

  Madison rolled her eyes at the sexy promise in his low voice. “I’m not ever in that much of a hurry, cowboy,” she drawled, mocking his glib, teasing tone to a T. “I reckon we can take turns, too.”

  Chance grinned, then strode through the sunlit living room, Madison on his heels. It was clearly a man’s abode. And the woman in Madison couldn’t help but love every inch of it. A dark brown leather sofa and two armchairs formed a conversation area in front of the stone fireplace. Navajo rugs provided splashes of color on gleaming wood floors. A rolltop desk was covered with stacks of paper, a laptop computer and phone. Next to it stood a rough-hewn table with a fax and printer. There were shelves of books—most appeared to be on horses or ranching—and there were several large wooden file cabinets. At the other end of the living room was a dining area with a large oak table, and a kitchen that was at once compact and well-equipped.