The Billionaire’s Christmas Contract by Laura Haley-McNeil

Chapter 4

Bryg sucked in air, Leah’s subtle scent sending a shock wave through his chest. Her soft curves made him tighten his jaw.

When the horse shifted her large frame, Bryg pulled Leah firmly against him and stepped toward the door. Her warmth filled him, and he didn’t want to let her go. Ever.

“I’m sorry,” Leah murmured. She twisted in his arms and pressed her hands to his chest.

Bryg thought she’d push away, but when she lifted her gaze to his, she stilled. Bryg drank in the large eyes filled with a softness he’d never seen when he’d looked at any woman.

“Are you all right?” Bryg asked, his voice rough. He wasn’t all right. His gaze dropped to full lips he had an overwhelming desire to taste.

“Yes,” she said slowly.

An anxious whinny sounded from the neighboring stall.

“The horses.” Leah’s voice breathless, her eyes wide, she pressed her hands to his chest.

Reluctantly, Bryg loosened his grasp and let her step away. His jaw set at the coolness that swept away her comforting closeness.

“It sounds like they’re keeping tabs on each other,” Bryg said with a laugh.

“They’re like kids,” Leah said and smiled. As if the moment of their closeness had been forgotten, she brushed fingers through the silky hair that had fallen over her cheeks. “They know who’s getting special treatment and aren’t shy about expressing their dismay.”

Maybe she’d forgotten the moment he held her. It would be awhile before he did.

“Let’s feed the others,” Leah said. Turning away, she stepped out of the stall.

A muscle worked in Bryg’s jaw, and he tried to pretend his arms didn’t ache to hold her. They moved down the stalls and fed apples to the other horses. When they reached the end of the aisle, Leah looked out the large picture window that faced a small building surrounded by a slatted fence.

“I’m assuming that’s the chicken coop.” Bryg stood next to her.

“Yes, there’s nothing better than farm fresh eggs,” she said and released a soft sigh. “Fortunately, the college where I work is in a town that sells fresh eggs at the co-op, but they never tasted quite as good as the ones we raised.”

Bryg wondered at the distant look in her eyes. Did she miss her home back east, or was she glad to be back on this Colorado ranch? He was glad she was here, otherwise he might not have met her, but he still wondered at the pain in her eyes. He wished he could erase the moment that had filled her with sadness. She was so beautiful when she smiled. If she were the woman in his life, he’d want to see her smile every moment.

“Why did you leave the ranch?” he asked, though he had read her profile on the college website. Born and raised in Colorado, she’d attended the exclusive college. While she studied for her master’s, she also taught. She became a professor while working on her doctorate.

“I was offered a scholarship to Braxton College,” she said, a distant look in her eyes, “which was a surprise. I couldn’t have attended a private school without it. When I applied to the master’s program, they offered me a teaching position. After I received my doctorate, I stayed. I love the town, the students and the college. I thought I’d stay forever.” Color flooded her face, the telltale sign she’d said more than she intended. She looked away. “Maybe it’s a good thing I came back..

“Why is that?” Bryg said. In her eyes, he could see the distant memories reminding her of what she liked about the ranching community. “I’d forgotten how much I love it here.” When she smiled, there was a hint of sadness. “I guess you can take the ranch girl out of Colorado, but you can’t take Colorado out of the ranch girl.”

“I wouldn’t want Colorado taken out of you,” he said. When her head came up, he smiled.

“What about you?” she asked, and he saw her determination to switch the conversation away from herself. “I know you’re from Denver, and that you started a successful business when you were in college.”

“Ah, you’ve done your homework,” he said on a soft exhale. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who wanted to know about the people he dealt with.

“Not that I had to do much. After all, you are Bryg Winslow,” she said her mouth tipping with a hint of guilt. “It’s difficult to be on the internet for any length of time and not see at least one article about you.”

His mouth flattened. That had been his disappointment. He hadn’t worked hard so he could become media fodder. At a young age, he learned he didn’t have to be poor, and he’d do anything to make sure he and those he cared about would never want for anything. Being young, single and rich caught the media’s attention.

It wasn’t just his business dealings that fascinated the press. It was his personal life. When he saw photos of himself holding the hand of some supermodel, movie star or socialite, his stomach clenched. Though the media loved to publish stories about his business and his personal life, they got nothing right.

“I’m sorry.” Leah’s eyes widened with an embarrassed apology. “I didn’t mean …” Her voice faltered as if afraid the more she said, the more uncomfortable she became.

“You’ve no reason to apologize.” Bryg smiled at her, hoping to ease her discomfort.

No one had been more surprised than he when he’d first seen his picture headline a media site, a beautiful movie star clinging to his arm. He hadn’t expected the famous actress to say yes when he’d asked her out. His disappointment was a weight in his chest when he soon learned these women weren’t dating Bryg Winslow, the poor kid wishing he had a bike and wearing clothes his mother had dug out of a rummage sack. He was Bryg Winslow who turned every business venture into a pot of gold. With the endless parade of people who pressed around him wanting whatever he had, his financial ability seemed more like a curse than a blessing.

“Something tells me your notoriety isn’t that appealing to you.” Leah lifted eyes filled with sympathy to his.

“Is it that obvious?” he said with a dry laugh. He dragged his fingers through his hair.

“Yes,” she said on a heavy exhale.

“I’d like to think that if I’d realized how my life would’ve changed, success might not have been that appealing to me, but then hindsight is always twenty-twenty,” he said simply.

She looked at him a long moment, then her gaze shifted.

“I get the feeling you have something to say about that,” he said and tipped his face to look into her eyes. He loved the depth of them and the compassion in them, and suddenly he knew when he left Mardale, what he’d remember more than anything else were the golden eyes and the pale skin covered with freckles of one Leah Rendell.

“I do, but about something else, too,” she said, and the corner of her mouth curved. “The day after tomorrow is Sunday.”

“Yes,” he said, and wondered at the reason for her mentioning this.

“We attend church on Sundays,” she said, her eyes large, and he was struck by how fresh and innocent this college professor looked right now. “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

Church?

How long since he’d been to church? The Moores took him and the other foster children to services every Sunday. At first, he’d refused to attend, which didn’t matter to the Moores. He was going. That he liked it, surprised him, but he liked everything about church, including the people and the message. He’d gone a few times in college, but then became distracted by his studies. Now, he only went when he visited the Moores.

He lifted a hand to dismiss the invitation. He didn’t just have this project in Mardale to settle. He oversaw other ventures. Tomorrow, he’d fly to Boise to check the progress of a development there. Even if he didn’t have to leave, he received reports throughout the day that needed his review and approval. Since he’d started his first business when he was in college, Sunday had been the day when he analyzed his financial progress―a ritual he’d maintained over the last fifteen years.

“I appreciate the invitation …” He looked into her eyes and saw the understanding. He was saying what he’d heard many times when he’d invited people to church. He gave a soft laugh, and then to his surprise, he said, “Thank you. Let me know where and when, and I’ll meet you there.”