Page 42 of Deceit & Desire

“Oh, but I have,” I replied, calm and unflinching. “I worked in real estate when I lived in Miami and I still have connections. The wheels are already turning. So here’s your choice, David: keep messing around with my family’s ranch, or go home and put out the fires I’ve started in California. Either way, you picked the wrong girl and the wrong ranch to fuck with here in Montana.”

A string of curses erupted from him, then the line went dead. I leaned back in my chair, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across my lips. Michaelson had wanted leverage over us—but now I had the upper hand, and I wasn’t letting go.

The accountant mopped sweat off his brow with a handkerchief. “And what about me?”

“You?” I arched a brow at him and shook my head. “You’re fucking fired, and you better thank your lucky stars I’m a woman of my word and I’m not turning you over to Deputy Blackwell right now like I rightfully should be.”

“And one more thing,” Roman spoke up with quiet menace from behind me, “You will return every penny you embezzled from Twisted Creek Ranch, or so help me God, I’ll make sure you live to regret crossing my wife the way you have. Do we understand one another?”

Chapter16

Do You Trust Me?

PLAYLIST: “CONTROL” BY HALSEY

ROMAN

I glared at Mr. Bush,enjoying watching him sweat, not moving a muscle until he nodded furiously.

“Y-yes. Of course, Mr. York, Mrs. York, I’ll pay it all back?—”

I jabbed a threatening finger at him. “Every single penny. Nothing less is acceptable. You understand?”

He nodded again, his jowls wiggling like jello with the force of the movement. “Yessir. I understand?—”

I took a step closer, eating up the distance between us, and poked him in the chest, underscoring every word I said with another jab to his fleshy chest. “You’ll write checks weekly until you’ve paid back the sum in full, and we’ll write you receipts. There will be a paper trail, for obvious reasons. If you disagree, I go to Deputy Blackwell whether my wife likes it or not. You read me, Oliver?”

Mr. Bush grimaced, but nodded again. “Loud and clear, Mr. York.”

Without another word, I slipped my arm around Zoe’s waist and let her lead the way outside. My gut tied itself in a hard, icy knot and dropped into my boots when Zoe’s confident strides faltered at the sight of Michael Carter lurking on the sidewalk, glowering at us.

“Well, well, well… if it isn’t the bitch who killed my sister and her loyal lapdog. You two look like you’ve been busy. What was it this time? Threats? Intimidation? Unleashing that cutthroat little cu?—”

I lunged at Michael, not about to let him call my wife what it sounded like he was about to call her, but I drew up short when Zoe stepped between us and planted her hands on my chest, gazing up at me with those impossibly green eyes of hers.

“He’s just trying to get under our skin, baby. Don’t give that sorry jackass the satisfaction.” She pressed up on her tip-toes and brushed a feather-light kiss against my lips. “He’s not fucking worth the trouble, and you know it.”

I take a deep breath and the tension bunching my muscles falls away as I gaze down at her.

“You’re right, I know you’re right,” I grumble, shaking my head.

Warmth filled my chest as I gazed down at her perfect face, letting her words sink in for a moment before my gaze flicked back up to Michael and rage snapped through me all over again, sharp and cold. I narrowed my eyes at him.

Zoe might have me on a leash right now, but that leash is only so long, and if he moves wrong, I’ll slip the leash and go after him, anyway.

“That’s right, big boy, listen to the wicked bitch of the west. It’d sure be a shame if you laid hands on me right here in public and got arrested for assault and battery and disturbing the peace and all the fucking things I can tell you’re dying to do to me right now, you big, dumb motherfucker you.”

I clenched my fists nice and slow, trying hard to quell the urge to bash his fucking face in. If Zoe weren’t here, I’d be on his ass like white on rice already.

Zoe pressed up on her tiptoes, her lips brushing against the shell of my ear as she pressed harder against my chest, her grounding presence more insistent. “Take me home, baby. Take me home and find some other way to put all that pent-up energy to good use, but do not give this asshole what he wants. Let’s go.”

As if to illustrate her point, she took my earlobe between her teeth and nibbled on it, dragging a groan out of me.

Forget Michael Carter. Who cares about that smug little prick, anyway? Not me, not when Zoe is distracting the hell out of me by using my earlobe as a chew toy in the best way possible, I thought.

My eyes fell closed for a second and I reached up to stroke Zoe’s hair, leaning into the way her touch grounded me and brought me back down to earth.

“Forget him,” I murmured, “Let’s go home, darlin’.”

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