Chapter 5 TESSA
TESSA
The maid’s heels click against the polished floor ahead of me as she opens the door to my assigned room.
She steps back and waves me in. “Here you are, Miss Carter,” she says politely, her voice soft.
I step inside and stop, jaw dropping at the sight in front of me.
This bedroom is ridiculous. Stupidly, impossibly luxurious.
A king-sized bed dominates the space, sheets crisp and perfectly white, pillows stacked like clouds.
Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a view of rolling ranchlands stretching as far as the eye can see.
My eyes wander to the open bathroom door—marble counters, a tub big enough to swim laps in, and gold fixtures gleaming in the sunlight.
I can’t even process it all without feeling a small wave of panic.
And yet, I hate it. Not because it’s ugly—far from it—but because of the heat pressing down like a living thing, the circumstances that have led me here, and the fact that I am completely out of my element after realizing whose world I just walked into.
Of all the ranches in Texas, why did this one have to be his?
This isn’t my world, or the life I know. Every polished surface, impossibly comfortable chair, and sprawling inch of this palace of a ranch is a reminder that I don’t belong.
My suitcases are already situated by the foot of the bed, waiting to be unpacked.
I sink onto the edge of the bed, tugging at my shirt to pull some of the warmth away.
It’s beautiful. Stunning. But all I feel is frustration and tension coiling in my chest. A city girl like me has been dropped into a Texas ranch belonging to the man I had a one-night stand with six months ago, under a false name, hiding from a different man who wishes me dead.
The maid clears her throat behind me. “If you need anything, Miss Carter, don’t hesitate to ask.”
I nod absently, too absorbed in my thoughts to respond properly. She gives me a small, knowing smile and slips out, leaving me in the quiet, sun-drenched luxury of the room. The door clicks shut behind her.
I let out a shaky breath, running my fingers over the sheets, trying to calm myself. Deep breaths. Focus. I came here to work, so I’ll get the job done. It’s Sienna’s name on the line, and I will not ruin her reputation with my fear.
Speaking of Sienna, I yank my phone from my pocket and punch in her number. I need my best friend to help me organize my thoughts. It rings twice before her voice bursts through like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.
“Tess, finally, are you okay? How is everything? Are you melting yet, or have you discovered a secret Texas snowstorm?”
I groan dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “Oh, hilarious. Yes, I’m sweating like a pig in silk sheets. Yes, I might spontaneously combust any second now. But no, everything is not okay. It’s far from it.”
“What’s wrong? You’ll survive the heat and everything else, like venomous snakes, dust, and cowboys.”
My pulse stutters at the last word, and I cover the phone with my hand. “Ha-ha, very funny. Speaking of cowboys, remember that guy I—“ I pause, trying to keep my voice neutral. ”—ran into before?”
“Which one? You run into a lot of boys.” She giggles.
“Shut up! I do not.”
“Okay, fine, you do not. Which guy?”
“The one I met at the tech summit.”
“The cowboy?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t tell me—“
“Yes! He owns Iron Stallion—no wonder the name sounded familiar,” I explain.
“Honestly, I thought you made him up.” Sienna cackles.
“Si!”
“What? Can you blame me? A cowboy in a wheelchair who fucked you to a sleep coma—come on. It sounded like the perfect porn script.”
“Sienna, this is serious. What do I do?” I panic.
She clears her throat. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Let me guess, you’re pretending not to know him?”
“Of course I am. I’m not stupid, Sienna. But it’s like everything that led me here, every stupid decision, every threat I dodged—all of it landed me in front of him again. And I have to act like I don’t know him, which is harder than it sounds.”
Jace and I spent the morning together, him showing me around the ranch and the office while I tried my best to remain professional, pretending I didn’t remember every inch of his naked body.
Sienna snickers, then teases, “You, sweating in that palace with pink hair and city-girl clothes, while trying not to melt under a cowboy’s gaze? I’d pay good money to see it. Maybe I should rethink Miami and come to Texas instead.”
I roll my eyes. “Funny. Except I might actually combust before I even get my work done. It’s hot as hell here; the air is like soup. And this room...” I wave my hand around vaguely. “It’s bigger than my last apartment. And hotter. And I’m already regretting every choice that brought me here.”
“You sound like a diva,” Sienna says, laughing again. “But also like someone who’s surviving the apocalypse in heeled boots. I love it.”
I groan. “You love it? You’re terrible. But yes, I’m surviving. Barely.”
Sienna’s teasing fades, and her tone softens. “Okay, listen. Turn on the air conditioning, suck it up, and keep your cover, Tess. Focus on the job, don’t get distracted, or let him know anything.”
I stare at the ceiling, exhaling a shaky breath. “Okay,” I whisper, quieter now. “I’ll do it. Keep my head down, survive, get the job done, and leave before anyone figures anything out.”
“Atta girl,” Sienna says, her tone warm. “And Tess? Don’t forget, your life’s more important than pride. Stay safe.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. The tension in my shoulders eases slightly. The room is still hot, the place overwhelming, and the man I can’t let myself remember is somewhere out there, probably watching my every move.
But for now, I’m safe.
I set the phone down and turn my head, staring out at the sprawling ranch. The sun is relentless, the air heavy, but I can survive this. I have to.
It’s all so overwhelming, but Sienna is right. I am here to survive, do the job, and leave before anyone figures out who I really am. But every fiber of me wants to turn tail and run. I’ve seen what following trails like this can lead to. And yet running isn’t an option. Not this time.
I know I’m on his turf now. And worse, he remembers me. How could he not after that magical night we spent together? I almost slipped multiple times today, but I cannot let him know me. Not my real name. Not my past. Not anything.
Okay, think. Pros: I get paid, I stay alive, I keep my cover. Cons: I slip up, he fires me, and I’m back to square one.
My chest tightens. I can do this. I have to do this. One slip, one reaction, and everything crumbles. But I can control myself—voice, expressions, the way I move, even the way I think around him.
I breathe in, slow and deliberate, letting the air-conditioned hum of the massive ceiling fan do its best to calm me.
Feeling much calmer, I stand, straighten my shoulders, and give myself one last mental pep talk.
“Keep your head down. Keep your story straight. Don’t get distracted. Focus. And survive.”
I take a deep breath and step toward the massive closet. Time to unpack, blend in, and continue the lie that might just keep me alive.
I’m midway through unpacking—my laptop and the small stack of security tools I’d brought—when there’s a soft knock at the door.
“Miss Carter? Lunch.” The same maid from earlier says in a gentle voice. She’s carrying a tray, steaming, perfectly arranged—a spread that would make any five-star restaurant jealous.
I blink at her, caught off guard. “Oh. Thank you,” I manage, my voice tighter than I intend.
She smiles, unoffended by my abruptness. “Mr. Morgan said you might be too tired to join the others, so he asked me to bring it here.”
I freeze for a second, my heart skipping.
Mr. Morgan. That’s Jace. He’s already assumed I wouldn’t join the family for a meal?
That’s thoughtful of him. Or is it? Maybe he just wants to keep me away from his family, which is okay too.
The further I stay away from them, the easier it’ll be to keep my story straight.
“Right. Thank you. That’s very considerate of him,” I say, trying to be casual. I move aside to let her set the tray on the desk.
“Enjoy your meal. I’ll be back later to get the dishes.”
I nod, forcing a small smile. “Thank you.”
The door clicks softly behind her, leaving me alone with the scent of roasted meat, fresh bread, and herbs so perfectly balanced it almost makes me forget where I am. Almost.
I sit at the desk, tray before me, but I don’t reach for the food right away.
My fingers hover over the cutlery as I glance toward the windows, sunlight still harsh but softened by the massive panes.
Focus. Blend in. Survive, I tell myself again.
Eat. Set up your gear. Keep your story straight.
Those thoughts run through my mind as I pick up the knife and fork, slicing into the perfectly roasted chicken.
Let’s see how the next few weeks pan out.