The Texas Ranger: Saddled Up (Texas Heat: The Heart of a Texas Ranger #3)

Chapter One

The two men were facing off. The only things between them were a desk and raw testosterone.

“I told you! She’s not a daft cow. I warned you that she would sniff around,” Bentley Fletcher said in a low, vibrating voice to his campaign manager.

“You were supposed to keep her happy. Keep her occupied so she wouldn’t have time to think about anything but pleasing you,” MJ Fitsgerald hissed. “You should have done something about her. This has all gotten out of control.” His round cheeks blossomed with color.

Bentley leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk, wanting to grip the fat man’s neck in a chokehold the likes of which he’d never recover from.

The combination of profuse sweating, the annoying lisp, and the habit of licking his lips after every sentence made Bentley practically reverberate with irritation for the man.

If Bentley had his way he would have fired Fitsgerald weeks ago.

“What would you have wanted me to do? Wasn’t it enough that I fucked her for the team?” Bentley cringed at his own words.

“No one said “fuck her”, did we?”

Inspecting the balding man’s creased features, Bentley sighed.

He reeled himself back in, controlling his British accent.

It seeped into existence when he was bothered.

He’d taken all the speech classes just as his campaign team had suggested because they predicted voters might not feel he was American enough if he came across with a prominent accent.

He was born and raised in Tallman’s Cross, Texas, fifty miles from Fin’s Creek, by his British mother and Texan, oil-tycoon father who married and had Bentley soon after.

From the day he was brought into the world his parents had plans of raising a son fit for politics.

Unfortunately, Malcolm Fletcher would never see the fruits of his labor because he dropped dead from a heart attack while arguing with an environmental activist when Bentley was sixteen.

After announcing his run for senate, his life had become a massive, high-stakes operation. He ate, breathed and slept fundraising. Life as a politician had strict rules which meant he had distanced himself from old friends who might tarnish his image.

His mother, Francine, often reminded him that politics was in his blood, and he was a natural born elected official.

Fitsgerald’s beady gaze landed with an invisible snap.

“If she finds out your secrets, what you’re hiding at MedLabOne, your political career is over.

This will ruin you. You’ll be finished. Misappropriating corporate funds and laundering campaign money tend to bury you if you’re caught.

I don’t suppose I even need to mention how you’re funding that sweet scientist’s mobile lab project? ”

“We’re all in this together, Fitsgerald. Don’t forget. It would do you good to remember how you’re getting paid.”

The older man’s thin brows knocked together. “Please talk some sense into him,” he said to someone over Bentley’s shoulder. “I don’t think he has what it takes to navigate the cutthroat world of politics.”

Whipping around on the heels of his polished loafers, he saw Francine standing in the doorway, a porcelain teacup hovered near her mouth. “How long have you been listening, Mother?”

“Long enough to be disgusted. Aasia Powers isn’t even a catch,” she said in a voice as smooth as fresh cow’s milk. “However, if the lack of proper etiquette and trailer trash air is your cup of tea then I guess she would be considered wife material.”

“She doesn’t live in a trailer park. She lives on a farm.”

Her mouth twisted. “I don’t think you’re cut out for mucking stalls. You didn’t wipe your own bottom until you were four.”

He swallowed the ache in his throat. “One would think you’d be a little more understanding about Aasia’s upbringing when your new husband holds up the poker table at the club and the dresses of all the casino whores.

Isn’t that right, Mother?” Bentley had never been fond of his step-father, Richard.

If he and Francine hadn’t run off to Las Vegas last year to tie the knot, Bentley would have put a stop to the nuptials.

Malcolm Fletcher would roll over in his grave if he knew Francine married a democrat.

She took a delicate sip from her cup then it down on the glass table with a sharp click. “Fitsgerald, leave us,” she said in a firm tone.

“Yes, ma’am.” The manager scooted from the room and closed the door behind him.

“Let’s not forget it was Fitsgerald’s idea for me to “entertain” Aasia,” Bentley said in his defense. His mother unnerved him.

She smoothed her wrinkled hands down her tailored suit jacket then tugged the hem lower over her narrow hips. “She’s entertainment, not one to bring home to meet me and put a diamond on her finger. Is this your way of rebelling, son?”

“Of course not.” Although his words came from a place of prickliness, he stayed respectful.

She’d only make his life miserable if he showed any unkindness toward her.

If he took a good look inward, he might see that he found liberation in steering away from his mother’s rules.

He knew from the beginning that Aasia didn’t fit the description of the person his mother expected him to marry.

For Bentley, she was a breath of fresh air compared to the usual wallet watchers he met in his circles.

“Tell me, son. What does she offer you?”

“She’s an amazing scientist,” he said without hesitation. From the time he met Aasia, he envied her free-spirit and that she didn’t allow anyone to tell her what to do. Not even Bentley.

Francine’s snicker echoed through the immaculate room. “Is that all? Fitsgerald is an amazing campaign manager, but you don’t see me lusting after him. Seriously, Bentley. Aren’t you tired of Daisy Duke and her freckled cuteness?”

“Aren’t I a bit too old to still be explaining my attraction towards someone?” He cocked a brow.

“She’s going to ruin your career. Are you going to allow that to happen?”

“She hasn’t figured out what’s going on at the lab, yet. I told you this was a bad idea.”

Francine cleared her throat gracefully. “I’m not just referring to the indiscreetness at the lab.

I’m pointing out her lack of…sophistication.

Once the media uncovers her past they’ll have a field day.

You’ll be the laughingstock of Texas. You were bred for greatness. Great people never pick weeds.”

“And you don’t think dear stepdaddy’s activities put a stain on the Fletcher name? For God’s sake, he’s a democrat.”

Her cultivated expression hid her repulsion. “No one cares about what my husband is doing. You don’t share his bed.”

He rubbed his forehead. “What do you suggest I do?” He was half-afraid of what her answer would be. His mother wouldn’t stop at anything to see her son rise to fame.

She paced slowly around the desk, the material of her silk slacks whispering with each step. She reached inside the top drawer and took out a thick folder. She held it out, but he continued to stare.

“What’s that?”

“I had Fitsgerald research your fiancée’s background. He’s good at crawling through every nook and cranny, every hillbilly swamp. I’m guessing there are things not even you know.” She gave the folder a shove into his chest.

Reluctantly, he took it from her. The folder felt heavy in his hand. “You have too much time on your hands.”

“I’m still cleaning up your messes after all these years,” she sighed. “I’m only looking out for you. It’s time to cut the string. Remove her from any avenue. Do it before she brings you down.”

“And how should I do that?”

“Start by firing her,” Francine said callously.

“Firing people these days isn’t as easy as you might think.

I’d have to have a good reason to let her go from a position she is excelling in.

She’s an integral part of the team. The Annual Healing Gala is coming up and she and I are going together.

She was recognized for her work on the Mobile Lab Unit for poverty-stricken communities in Texas. ”

“I don’t want to hear her resume, son. Don’t fret.

You have all the reasons you need right there in your hands.

You’re a stakeholder in MedLabOne.” Her voice rose a notch.

“She doesn’t belong with you, Bentley. You two have been clinging to hope and a dream for months now.

A woman like Aasia doesn’t understand our world.

I won’t have her dirtying the good name we’ve worked hard to build.

I’ve spent too many years curating you to be powerful not a farmer’s husband.

You’re meant to be a leader. She is only a complication that needs snuffed out. ”

“She’s not complicating anything. She was only trying to be a part of my life,” he muttered, almost feeling sorry for Aasia. He should never have involved her in this web.

“A part of your life?” she shrilled. Her elegance slipped.

She came around to stand near him, her lips turned down at the corners defying the facelift’s capability.

“I’m a part of your life. I gave up everything for you.

I’ve built this home, a life, a career for you.

Aasia is a distraction. She’s a goal killer.

” she said in a poisonous whisper. She straightened and instantly regained her composure. “You take care of this, you hear me?”

“Mother, I—”

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. Are we clear?”

“This isn’t fair,” he whispered, knowing any fight would result in things getting worse.

“Are you truly worried about fairness? Am I supposed to believe you genuinely care about this woman?” She flashed a bitter smile. “Sex makes men think all sorts of things. If you can’t handle this, I will. I'll make sure she understands exactly what will happen if she doesn't quietly step back.”

“I can handle it myself.” He felt the last strand of rebuttal slip.