Chapter Twelve
Jayce
“The bear was quite beautiful, didn’t you think?”
Jayce couldn’t say. He’d been too busy firing warning shots to startle it off without hitting it, because the bear wore a collar, to take note of its looks. He wasn’t going to criticize Malika for bravery, though, because she’d done the right thing.
He’d save the heart attack she nearly gave him for later.
They were walking the trail down the mountain.
She held her can of bear spray as if it were a hand grenade with the pin pulled.
He carried his rifle with the butt in his hand and the barrel resting against his shoulder, the muzzle pointed skyward, because the scabbard had ridden off with his horse.
Good fortune was otherwise with him—he’d had the common sense to draw the rifle free before a low-hanging branch knocked him out of the saddle.
Malika didn’t complain about having to walk.
She chattered about every little thing that caught her attention.
The way the light caught the leaves. The way the wind that passed above them made the trees sigh.
The way mouthy squirrels reminded her of dryads, of all things.
Where she found the lung capacity for speech so soon after getting pepper sprayed, he had no idea.
But her optimism—her ability to turn a negative experience into a positive one—was a trait he admired. Otherwise, she continued to confuse the heck out of him.
Part of him continued to believe he was part of a plan to get back at her brother. That her being ruined by a cowboy would send him a giant middle finger.
The rest of Jayce said he was crazy. Malika enjoyed life and everything about it. She had more freedom right now than she was used to, or likely would have ever again once she was married, and she was taking full advantage of it.
He was okay with that, because the role of honorable cowboy had begun to wear thin, and he’d spotted a loophole—what happened outside of Burning Scrub wasn’t part of her adventure, and a few days’ respite at the Ride No More Ranch would offer plenty of opportunities for them to entertain more dishonorable thoughts.
He had to find a way to get her out from under his skin, and less than two months to do so.
It had to be handled in such a way as to keep twenty-five million dollars from being at risk, or to ruin her upcoming wedding.
If the groom expected his second wife to be a virgin, then they’d work around that expectation.
There were options. He’d explored plenty in tenth grade with a pretty girl named Jeanette, a minister’s daughter, who’d been willing to do lots of things behind the gym not involving full penetration.
He’d been sad when her family moved to Wyoming.
“I’m not sure beautiful is the word I’d use to describe it, but I will admit it was impressive,” he said, regarding the bear.
He didn’t have the heart to explain that the bear had been young, and not nearly full grown, and its chuffing, plus the bold charge, had been a warning for the humans to shove off because it was coming through. The creek on the far side of the camp was teeming with trout and the odd Kokanee salmon.
“What brought you to the US?” he asked. The question seemed safer than revisiting matters by the creek. He owed her an apology, but he couldn’t figure out where to begin, or what for exactly, and it might be safer to pretend nothing happened.
“School,” Malika said. “I finished boarding school for young women at home, spent a few years at a private college in the UK that my brother handpicked, then I asked to study North American history in California—mostly because I knew it was an interest of his.”
She wanted her brother’s attention as much as she wanted to annoy him. Good to keep that in mind.
“No offense, but you don’t seem to know a whole lot about the American West for someone who studied our history.”
“Oh, I never attended classes,” Malika said cheerfully.
“Why bother when there are lots of people who are willing to write papers and sit for exams and are better at it than me? I read a few books, but I didn’t have time for school.
Los Angeles is such a beautiful city to explore, with so many wonders. My roommates adore it as much as I do.”
“These roommates.” And here was yet another question that begged for an answer. “Were they Djitanian too?”
“Of course. Adeel hired them. Adeel is my brother’s real name,” she added. “Adeel Jiorji. Sheik Ali is such a ridiculous alias. So common.”
Her roommates were bodyguards, no doubt. If he thought matters through to conclusion, then there was a strong possibility that Adeel Jiorji, like the fabricated brother in her adventure, would have him killed for touching his sister.
The same unspoiled—he suspected—sister who paid people to write her exams, who paraded around naked, and who wanted to teach grown men to flirt.
What did that even mean? What wonders had she explored in LA?
Maybe virginity wasn’t an obstacle.
He was so confused.
Thankfully, his mother came to his rescue. She rode into view, leading a second horse. The second horse wore a saddle.
“Thank goodness,” Vanessa said when they met.
Worry deepened the tiny lines surrounding her eyes.
She scanned her son. “I was so afraid when Side-eye showed up without you. Did he throw you? Are you hurt?”
“No, he didn’t throw me,” Jayce said, insulted she’d ask such a thing. “And no, I’m not hurt.”
“A tree branch knocked him out of the saddle,” Malika said to his mother, because discretion was another word she didn’t seem to understand. “But that was after the bear scared his horse.”
His mother’s face took on an expression that didn’t bode well for him, even though he was no longer a teenager, and he knew what to do when faced with a bear. It was a mom thing. When she got worried, she became overprotective.
“Why don’t you let me tell her the story?” he said to Malika.
He explained what had happened.
His mother’s eyes sharpened, but thankfully, she let it go.
“I didn’t know you had Malika with you, so I only brought the one horse. Why don’t Malika and I ride on ahead while you wait for your dad?” she said.
That wouldn’t be wise. Malika had zero filters. She’d tell his mother everything she wanted to know, and he could tell that his mother had questions.
Plenty of questions.
“Or,” he said, “we could all stick together. I don’t mind walking.”
His mother’s saintly smile turned pure evil. “Don’t be silly, sweetie. There’s no need for you to walk. Your dad will be along any time now, and he’ll be as worried as I was about that riderless horse.”
Huck Hanson arrived shortly after Malika and his mom disappeared down the trail. He, too, led a spare horse.
“What the hell happened to you? Where’s Malika?” he demanded.
“With Mom.”
Jayce repeated his story, except added more detail.
“That little research guy’s becoming a problem,” Huck said. He peered at his son. “Sheik Ali’s little sister isn’t becoming one, too, is she?”
The sun, through the trees, grew uncomfortably warm. Jayce had never considered his dad to be especially astute when it came to him and his relationships with women. He might have been wrong.
He tried to brazen it out. “Malika? Why would she be a problem?”
“Because she’s good-looking, she’s forbidden—that always adds spice—and she’s got guts.
If I were in your shoes, she’d be a problem.
A mighty big one. But Burning Scrub has twenty-five million dollars riding on her.
A chunk of that goes to the ranch. So, if she turns into a problem for you, she becomes a problem for everyone.
And if she does become a problem, she had better be worth it. ”
Jayce wrestled with guilt. He didn’t give a damn about the money, but the people he cared about did.
And it bothered him that Malika—who was beautiful, forbidden, and brave—had been reduced to a dollar figure by those very same people.
Not even the brother she clearly worshipped cared about what happened to her.
“She’s not a problem,” he said.
Not a big one.
Because even though she confused him, he was beginning to care.
*
Malika
Malika was a little put out with Jayce.
Mavis had warned her not to raise his expectations. But he had raised hers, then made no attempt to so much as kiss her again, and it was unfair. Where was his fire? His passion? What happened to the man who’d punched the little out-of-stater on her behalf?
There was the distinct possibility that a small part of the fault lay with her. She might have rushed things. The steps were important, her sisters agreed.
But she’d been so impatient.
A nasty thought wriggled in. What if he hadn’t enjoyed kissing her as much as he’d enjoyed kissing Belle? Belle was more beautiful than she was. Did she kiss better too? Was she more worthy of ruin?
That couldn’t be it. Plenty of men had indicated they would be willing to ruin her. Sadly, the right opportunity had never presented itself. None of them had been as challenging as Jayce, either.
“Where did you find the courage to face down a bear?” Vanessa asked, impinging upon her conundrum.
Jayce’s mother sat a horse well. Not stiff, in the more formal, equestrian style, but with the grace of a woman who spent a lot of hours in a saddle and was good friends with her ride.
Malika didn’t have the same relationship with the pinto she rode, but the horse was sweet-tempered and agile, and she enjoyed her immensely.
“I didn’t need courage. I did what Jayce instructed me to do if I should encounter one,” she said.
“Good for you.” Vanessa smiled with approval. “You’ve got common sense.”
Malika glowed. She did have common sense. Plenty of it, although it was rarely recognized, and having a woman such as Vanessa, who she admired, praise her for it, was lovely.
“How are you enjoying your stay in Burning Scrub?” Vanessa asked next.