Somebody Like You Read online

  Hank nodded toward the small bathroom. “Mirror’s in there.”

  “Well, I—”

  Cash strode through the front door, Staubach at his heels. “Hey, Hank, do you know where—” His gaze landed on Annelise and turned hard. “What are you doing here?”

  “Working.”

  “No, you’re not. I told you, you’re fired.”

  Staubach danced around her legs, and she leaned down to rub his head, his chin. She swore the dog grinned.

  “Staubach, get over here.” Cash snapped his fingers and pointed at a spot beside him.

  The dog dropped heavily onto the floor at Annelise’s feet. Cash glared at him as Staubach’s tail wagged happily.

  “Traitor,” he muttered.

  “I love working here, Cash.”

  “Oh? So just like that, I should keep you on? Consider everything okay?”

  She shrugged.

  “You held back a few cards, Annie. Some trumps. You played me for a fool.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hank pick up the rag he’d been using on the saddle and disappear into a backroom. Coward.

  Cash swore. Nothing even remotely hospitable or sympathetic showed in the eyes that met hers. “I came to you yesterday morning, Annie, hat in hand, and apologized for making unwanted advances.”

  “They weren’t unwanted.” Her voice sounded small and tentative, even to herself.

  “Come on, Annie. Get real.”

  “Oh!” Frustrated, she slapped her thigh. “You get real, Cash. You know darn well that both of us actively participated the other night at your place. We’re equally accountable for what went down there. Cliché or no, it does take two to tango, and I was every bit as caught up in that dance, in the moment, as you.”

  “I can’t deny that, no.” He wrapped a hand around a stall post and leaned a shoulder against it. “But you’re the one who hit the brakes. Why? Pretty simple, really, now that I’ve got the facts. You’re out of my league, Annie…and we both know that. Me, I’m comfortable in cowboy boots and jeans. Beer in a bottle. You’re used to designer clothes and diamonds. Champagne in fancy crystal flutes.”

  He shook his head, the muscles of his jaw working. “I have to wonder what you’re doing here. Besides the grandpa thing. Are you looking for a good time? Bored and hunting for a new experience? Admit it, darlin’. You don’t care one whit about me. I read the tabloids. Your highfalutin friends chew up men like me and spit them out. Maybe you figured it’d be fun to have a romp with an honest-to-God cowboy.”

  “Romp?” Heat flared in her cheeks. She glanced around, wishing she could lay her hands on something to throw at him. “I thought, I truly thought, you saw the real me. The real Annelise Montjoy.” She swallowed hard. “But you don’t. You’re no different than anyone else.”

  “Annie—”

  “Don’t you dare Annie me. You can cheapen what happened between us, but I won’t. You honestly think I’m laughing at you?” She closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose. Making herself meet his eyes again, she said, “If I laughed, it was with you because I was having fun. Enjoying your company. I never, ever laughed at you.”

  She opened her mouth to say more, but in one swift move, he pushed away from the post. “Bullshit! You’re good, Annie. Very good. You’re quite the little actress, and you’ve taken on a lot of roles the last few days. So the question is—how do I know which one is the real you? Or, for that matter, if any of them are.”

  He tipped his head, and his eyes roamed over her. “I like the woman I met in the diner. The woman who slings muck in my barn and smears paint on her cheeks. But is that you?”

  Her chest hurt. She could barely breathe. “You’re right, Cash. You don’t know me. Not if you have to ask that question.”

  “Thanks for the newsflash, darlin’.” His fists clenched at his sides. “What a sucker I am. I watched you ride into town and thought you were the prettiest thing I’d ever laid eyes on. But you looked so lost. Right away, I jumped to the conclusion you needed help. So what did I do? Made sure you got settled somewhere safe, even helped you paint the damn apartment. And all the while, you don’t bother to tell me you’re Davis Driller Montjoy’s great-granddaughter. That you could buy and sell the state of Texas without coming up for air.” He kicked the nearest stall and had several of the horses whinnying. “Christ, Annie, that’s more than a small oversight. I feel stupid, and I gotta tell you, I don’t like the feeling.”

  Annelise took several steps toward him.

  “Stop.” He held up one hand. “Stay right where you are. I’m not in an especially friendly mood right now.”

  “I’m not afraid of you, Cash. Not even the tiniest bit.” She walked closer. “I know you.”

  He removed his cowboy hat, raked his fingers through his hair, then settled the Stetson back in place. “You probably do know me a whole heck of a lot better than I know you.”

  He leaned forward and crawled right into her face. “And why is that?” He paused. “Oh, yeah. That would be because I was honest with you. Truthful.”

  Her heart thumped like a flat tire on macadam. But she couldn’t back down. Not now. If she did, she’d have to leave, and she really, really didn’t want to do that.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she closed the distance between them. Now, they were nose to nose and toe to toe. “I couldn’t tell you the truth. Not the first day we met. I didn’t know you, Cash. The paparazzi are beating the bushes for me. There’s a big price tag on my head. A lot of money to be made for a photo of the missing heiress.” She looked toward the rafters and blew out a huge sigh. “I simply couldn’t take the chance they’d find me. Not till I’d located my great-aunt.”

  Rubbing the back of her neck, she said, “Then, when I started to get to know you, when I realized you would never betray me…” She shrugged.

  “Damn you, Annie.”

  So quickly she didn’t see it coming, he dipped his head and covered her mouth with his.

  The kiss burned, it punished, it made her curl her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and hold on for dear life. When he finally pulled away, she was breathless. Brainless.

  “Why is all this so important to you?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “I said, why is all this so important?”

  “The ranch?”

  “No.” Impatient, he gripped the pommel of the saddle Hank had been oiling and almost ripped it from the stand. Then he slashed the air with his hand. “The whole running away thing. I understand the grandfather part, but there’s more to it than that.”

  His comment caught her off guard. He was right. She leaned against Shadow’s stall and, without thought, rubbed his muzzle when he bumped his head against her. Her hand trembled. She hadn’t dared admit it even to herself, but, yes, there was more.

  Her eyes found his, shaded by the brim of his hat. “Have you always wanted to run a ranch? This ranch?”

  “Careful there.” He nodded toward Shadow. “That no-good hunk of horseflesh would as soon nip you as look at you. He’s a sneaky SOB.”

  “He won’t hurt me.” She scratched the horse between his ears. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

  Cash made a sound low in his throat, somewhere between a growl and a humph as the horse nickered. Even Staubach kept a wary eye on the horse.

  “And you”—she pointed a finger at Cash—“you didn’t answer my question. Have you always wanted to run Whispering Pines?”

  “Yeah. I have.”

  “Have you ever left here? Been free of the ranch?”

  He squinted at her. “Free of it? Strange way to put it, but, yeah, I guess so. When I was away at college.”

  “Where’d you go?”

  “Texas A&M. That’s where all Hardemans go.”

  “Is it the school you wanted to attend?”

  “Hell, yes. Go, Aggies.” His eyes clouded. “Too bad you won’t be around come football season. I’d take you to a game. But then, you have be
tter things to do.”

  The man was seriously trying her patience. Bracing for another dig, she asked, “Like what?”

  He didn’t disappoint her.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Spending Daddy’s money, flying off to movie premiers, having brunch with the girls. Some women like to spend other people’s money.”

  “You’re comparing me to Vivi.”

  He said nothing.

  “That’s unfair. And untrue.”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  “It is, and you know it. Admit it.”

  He said nothing.

  “You’re wrong, because I’d take you up on that football game invitation. Too bad I won’t be here, though. Why won’t I, you ask?” She waited a beat. “Because I don’t have a job. I got fired, and the boss is being a real bozo about hiring me back.”

  “That right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why should he?”

  “Hire me back?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Because I give him a hundred percent. Because I know horses. Because he’s a good man.”

  He drew in a breath. “You’re hitting below the belt on that last one.”

  “Stating the facts.” She rubbed her temple. “I know I…didn’t tell the whole truth about a few things.”

  His brows shot up.

  “Okay, okay.” She rolled her eyes. “So I misled you. On purpose—at first. Guilty as charged. But I had a legitimate reason.” She paused, laid a hand on his chest. “My response to you the other night, though, was real. I didn’t fake that. I couldn’t.”

  Cash pinched the bridge of his nose and swore again. “Really low blow.”

  She met his eyes, didn’t waver.

  The silence stretched. “Maybe I can put in a good word for you with the boss.”

  “I wish you would. This job’s important to me.”

  “Why?” He hesitated. “I still don’t get it. You could do what you came to do and get the hell out of Dodge. Why would you want to bust your back working here at Whispering Pines? It defies logic, Annie.”

  “Because…” She hesitated, considered. “How did you feel when you were away at university, Cash?”

  “I missed the ranch, the horses. I missed the smell of the barn, the smell of the air after a good rain. My family. Not that I didn’t like college. Don’t get me wrong. I had a good time. Got a first-rate education. Learned skills I’ve since put to use here.”

  “But while you were at school, you did pretty much what you wanted?”

  He shrugged. “As long as I kept up my grades.”

  “See, that’s the thing.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a couple of sugar cubes. Absently, she held up her palm, let Shadow lip them, heard Cash’s nervous intake of air.

  “I’ve never had that freedom, Cash. Never been free to be me. Never been free of family responsibilities and expectations. Until now.” She wiped her hand on her jeans. “I’m not ready to give it up. Not yet.”

  She pulled at her ponytail. “Actually, when it comes right down to it, I’m still not entirely free. But this thing with Grandpa is because I love him, not because of duty. I’m working a couple of angles there.”

  He looked at her questioningly.

  “I can’t say anything else yet. Trust me. Please, Cash.”

  He scowled. “You’re playing me like a fiddle.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yeah, you are.” He huffed. “Still, Hank needs the help. I suppose you can stay till I find your replacement.” With that he turned and stalked out of the barn. “Staubach,” he called. “Let’s go.”

  The dog slowly rose to his feet and started to the door. He threw one last pathetic look over his shoulder as he trotted out of the barn.

  Annelise stood where she was, tears stinging her eyes. “Need You Now,” a country song she recognized from yesterday, drifted from Hank’s radio. Dropping to the straw-littered floor, head cradled in her arms, she listened while Lady Antebellum put voice to her feelings.

  Under different circumstances, she and Cash could have been so right for each other. If only their paths weren’t so disparate—he a down-to-the-bone cowboy, and she a filthy rich city girl.

  *

  Cash went over the figures a third time, then rested his elbows on the big cherry desk in his grandpa’s office and scrubbed his hands over his face. The coarse stubble on his jaw reminded him he hadn’t bothered to shave this morning. He supposed he could run the electric razor he kept in the top desk drawer over his face, but what the hell. It didn’t make two cents worth of difference.

  He looked back at the computerized list on his monitor and swore. The supply order had to go in by tomorrow, but he couldn’t concentrate on muscle liniments, horseshoe nails, or oats and barley. The price of a new currycomb and the number of vitamin pills needed for the stock didn’t seem relevant. He couldn’t focus on anything except Annie. Make that Annelise Montjoy.

  In a few short days, she’d gotten under his skin. Crawled right in and taken up residence. Enough so that he hadn’t been able to stay away yesterday. He’d woken up wanting to see those eyes, that hair. Needing to taste those lips. Hear her laugh. He was enough of a realist to understand the lady was totally out of his league. Whatever fantasies he’d been dreaming up about him and Annie needed to be swept up and dumped in the trash can. Any involvement between them was over, finished, and done. Hell, it had never started. Not really.

  He couldn’t get the picture of her out of his mind. Annie in the canoe, moonlight bathing her features, highlighting her high cheekbones, that aristocratic nose. Annie in his living room all but naked. The smell of her. The touch and taste of her. Those soft little sighs way down low in her throat.

  Shit!

  He leaned back in the chair.

  Well, Miss Annelise Montjoy could stay till he figured out what to do about help for Hank, but from now on, Cash Hardeman intended to draw the line between personal and professional and stretch it tight. As tight as any barbed-wire fence on the ranch.

  Good luck with that, cowboy.

  The thing was, Annie was so damned unpredictable. He’d left her place yesterday, fully expecting never to see her again. Then, he’d walked into the barn this morning and there she stood, bold as brass, even after he’d sacked her. She and Hank had been in the middle of some serious discussion from the looks of it.

  Sweat glistened on Cash’s forehead simply remembering the picture she’d made. That tiny red tank top hugged her breasts, molded her waist. Toned, tanned arms all but begged a man to touch. She’d looked tired, though. Walking away from her had been tough. Then, when he’d made it to the barn door, “Need You Now” came over Hank’s old radio, and he’d nearly turned around.

  But he hadn’t. He’d somehow managed to escape. Now if he could only manage to scrub all traces of Annie from his mind.

  She’d infiltrated too deeply. Way too deep.

  He drained the coffee mug Rosie’d filled for him and saved the mess he’d made of the ordering sheet. Maybe he’d take a ride. That would help clear his head. But that meant heading back to the barn, to Annie. Well, nothing said he had to stop and visit with her, now did it? She was one of his hired hands. Period. Nothing more, nothing less.

  And if that wasn’t the biggest bunch of BS he’d ever heard, he didn’t know what was. Feeling surly and more than a little mean, he stormed out of the house.

  The screen door slammed shut. He was halfway down the stairs when Rosie hurried out. Standing on the porch, drying her hands on a worn dish towel, she asked, “Where are you going, Cash? Lunch is ready. I’m minutes from putting it on the table.”

  “I’m heading out for a ride. I’m not hungry.”

  “Let me pack you a lunch.”

  He rounded on her. “I’m not five years old, Rosie. I can take care of myself.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” She lifted a brow. “So which of the barn cats do you intend to kick?”

  He closed
his eyes and took a deep breath. When his eyes met hers again, he saw concern. “Look. I’m in a rotten mood. I know it. I need to get away. Be by myself for a bit.”

  Vivi sauntered onto the porch. “I’d be more than happy to keep you company, Cash.” Dressed in Daisy Dukes and a white halter top, she pursed Marilyn-Monroe-red lips.

  “Oh, lordy,” Rosie muttered.

  “I appreciate the offer, Vivi. I truly do.” He rubbed at the headache skewering his brain behind his left eye. “But like I told Rosie, I’m after some alone time right now. Be best for everybody.”

  Pouting, Vivi wrapped her arms around the porch banister. “You don’t do anything with me anymore.”

  “Honey, you and I never have done anything together. You’re my grandpa’s widow, so you’re part of this family. I owe him that. But, you and me? Ain’t gonna happen. We have less than nothing in common.”

  “I’m gonna go get that lunch together for you,” Rosie interrupted. “I’ll have it ready by the time you’ve got that rascal Moonshine saddled up.”

  When he opened his mouth to object, she shook her head. “Huh-uh. You’ll thank me for it later.”

  He tipped his hat to her. “All right. Thanks, Rosie. I’ll stop by the house and pick it up.” He swiveled on his boot heel and headed across the yard, leaving one steaming mad woman behind and anticipating another in the barn. He mentally girded his loins, gearing up for the next face-off with Ms. Hogwash Montjoy.

  Damn it. Try as he might to think of her that way, he couldn’t. She wasn’t Ms. Montjoy. She was Annie, pure and simple. Shit!

  The barn, after the bright outdoor heat, was dim and ten degrees cooler. Several large overhead fans stirred the air. He stood motionless in the doorway, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

  He heard her first. Annie’s clear, true voice whispered in song to Shadow—in his stall. Cash’s heart nearly stopped, but he fought back his initial reaction, didn’t run to yank her to safety.

  Instead, he stood at the ready and watched and listened. While she sang, Annie brushed the currycomb over the horse’s flanks.

  Sensitive animals, horses didn’t suffer fools gladly. Often used in rehab situations, they picked up on a person’s inner feelings and needs, intuiting the sincere from the disingenuous.