The Gentleman Rancher

The Gentleman Rancher
Cathy Gillen Thacker

From head-to-head… Taylor O’Quinn and Jeremy Carrigan always clashed – and when they didn’t see eye to eye on an important career choice, their cherished friendship ended. Taylor left Texas to pursue a lifelong dream; Jeremy became a respected doctor.To heart-to-heart? Back home for a much-needed break, Taylor suddenly sees her old friend in a new light. And meeting Taylor again after seven years makes Jeremy realise he wants more than the easy camaraderie they used to share.He wants her to be part of his dream – the lady who captures this gentleman rancher’s heart!

Jeremy chuckled. “Is this the way it’s going to be?”

“What?” With an indignant sniff, Taylor shot up out of her chair.

He caught her hand. “Us sparring back and forth continuously until you leave?”

She pushed him away, one hand flat against his chest. “I don’t mind.”

“I do.”

“Jeremy…”

It was all he could do not to take her in his arms. “I’d like us to be friends again.”

Surveying him with exaggerated politeness, she crossed her arms in front of her. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He stood slowly.

He had missed her. So much.

CATHY GILLEN THACKER

married her school sweetheart and hasn’t had a dull moment since. Why? you ask. Well, there were three kids, various pets, any number of cars, several moves across the country, his and her careers and sundry other experiences (some of which were exciting and some of which weren’t). But mostly, there was love and friendship and laughter, and lots of experiences she wouldn’t trade for the world. Please visit her website at www.cathygillenthacker.com.

The Gentleman Rancher

Cathy Gillen Thacker

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Chapter One

Trouble In Paradise?

Newlyweds Zak and Zoe Townsend may act like lovebirds on their reality TV show, detailing the most intimate moments of their first two years as husband and wife, but on the set of their first feature film, Sail Away, the mood has been anything but romantic. The pop/rock stars have been at each other’s throats since filming began two months ago. Why, no one seems to know, least of all the legions of fans who have rooted for the Hollywood couple since their fairytale romance began…

June 1 edition, Celebrities Weekly magazine

As the sun went down, bringing dusk to the West Texas sky, Taylor O’Quinn had been in her Jeep Liberty for seventeen hours and fifty-three minutes. By her calculations, she had about twenty more minutes to go before arriving at the Chamberlain ranch, outside of Laramie, Texas. She couldn’t get there a moment too soon.

Her air-conditioning had begun malfunctioning somewhere near the California-Arizona border. By the time she reached New Mexico, it had quit altogether. Driving with the windows down hadn’t been so bad when she was up in the mountains, but when she had hit the flatlands of Texas, the heat had been brutal.

One-hundred-and-ten degree summer heat—even when blowing over her body at sixty-five miles an hour, was still hotter than blazes. The only thing keeping her going was the thought of the swimming pool awaiting her. Well, that and the fact that she had a place to stay rent-free for the next few weeks. Another fringe benefit was no one would ever think to look for her at the family home of her best friend.

Speaking of which… Taylor pulled over long enough to loop the hands-free receiver over her ear and dial her cell.

Paige Chamberlain answered on the third ring. “Hey, girlfriend, where are you?”

Her familiar voice brought a smile to Taylor’s face. “About fifteen minutes away, I think.”

“Great!” Paige exuded her customary good cheer and stellar organizational skills. “I left a key for you in the planter next to the door. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. The yellow guest room in the main house is yours. Clean towels are in the linen closet across from the hall bath.” After a brief interruption, she returned to the line. “I’ve got an appendectomy to do, so I’ll be at the hospital a few more hours. Until then, make yourself at home.”

“I will. And thanks, Paige.”

The sound of an announcement over the hospital intercom system blared in the background. “No problem.” Paige shouted to be heard above it. “See you soon!”

Taylor said goodbye and concentrated on finding the unassuming entrance to the ranch, a task that was not so easy as dusk covered the Texas countryside with a soft gray gloom. Luckily, the plain black wrought-iron archway, sans lettering of any kind, was just as Taylor remembered it. She turned down the single blacktop lane and drove through unkempt fields of mesquite and scrub brush that remained wild until she was completely out of sight of the two-lane farm-to-market road. Then, the fence started, the grass grew more manicured, and the sprawling hacienda-style ranch house rose above the plain, glowing with welcoming lights. The personal retreat was an oasis of privacy and rustic comfort, the kind of home where legendary actor-film director Beau Chamberlain and his movie-critic wife, Dani, could live in relative anonymity. Taylor had stayed there many times when she and Paige had been college—and med school—roommates.

Acutely aware of just how long ago that had been—a good seven plus years—Taylor parked in the empty driveway and got out. Leaving her belongings in the car, she passed the front of the house and followed the flagstone path to the backyard. The pool was designed to look like a hidden lagoon, complete with waterfall and tropical plants. The underwater lights weren’t on, but there was enough illumination from the adjacent ranch house and the guesthouse on the opposite side to allow Taylor to take a swim.

The shimmering blue water beckoned, cool and inviting.

Deciding to heck with going back to search for her swimsuit—she had waited far too long for relief from the searing summer heat as it was—Taylor kicked off her sandals and reached for the hem of her sweat-sticky T-shirt. Suddenly a familiar masculine voice jolted her from the task at hand.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.”

IT FIGURED, Jeremy Carrigan thought, that the first time he’d gone skinny-dipping in years, he’d get caught with his pants off. By none other than the most aggravating woman he had ever had the misfortune to meet in his life.

Taylor O’Quinn turned to get a closer look.

In profile, she’d been beautiful.

Facing him, she was even lovelier. In the years since he’d seen her, the delicate bone structure of her facial features had only become more pronounced. Long-lashed blue eyes dominated a slender nose and full, soft lips. As she released her thick black hair from the elastic band that had been holding it away from her face, the windswept strands fell, rippling across her slender shoulders and brushing at the graceful slope of her neck. Lower still the perfection continued in her five-foot-six form. His pulse picked up as his glance roved her full breasts, slender waist, curvy hips and long, shapely legs.

Somehow, Jeremy thought, it wasn’t all that surprising to find that Taylor O’Quinn had only gotten sexier as she aged. What stunned him was the realization that, even after all these years of resentful silence, he still wanted her as much as ever.

Taylor froze—as if sensing she were being scrutinized. Slowly, she peered into the shadowy cove where he was lounging. When she spied him, her chin took on the familiar tilt. “What are you doing here?” Taylor demanded.

Jeremy put up a staying hand to keep her from coming any closer. “I might ask the same question of you,” he remarked dryly, silently wishing his response to her would fade.

“Paige said I could stay here with her for a few weeks, while her own house is being remodeled and her parents are in Montana. She didn’t say anything about you being here.”

Jeremy shrugged. “She didn’t tell me anything about you arriving, either.”

Still a good twenty-five feet away from him, Taylor knelt to test the temperature of the water with her hand. “Then you’re just here to swim?” She regarded him with lifted brows.

The way she’d said that told Jeremy she wasn’t here just to get in a workout, either. Which probably meant Paige had neglected to tell them both something very important. He pushed aside his irritation with effort. He shrugged matter-of-factly. “I’m bunking here for a few weeks.”

Taylor took her wet hand and rubbed it across the back of her neck, in a futile effort, he guessed, to cool down. The gold shamrock necklace she had been given by her late grandmother, and wore as a symbol of luck and blessing, still glistened around her neck. “In the guesthouse,” she presumed, obviously hoping to put as much physical distance between them as possible.

“Paige has the guesthouse,” Jeremy corrected, treading water, and drifting further back into a shadowy corner so he could still gaze at her, but she could not see much of him. “I have the green bedroom in the main house.”

Taylor approached the corner of the pool, caddy-corner to him, where the steps were located. Hand on the railing, she walked down until the water came up to the hem of her capris. “Don’t you have your own place?” She sounded piqued.

He couldn’t blame her, they hadn’t parted well. And they hadn’t communicated with each other in the seven years since. “As a matter of fact, I do own a home.” His voice resonated with pride. “Lago Vista Ranch, on Lake Laramie.”