A Baby by Chance (14 page)

“Amazing,” Madison said an hour later, when Chance took a break from the training session and strode over to join her.

“He’s coming along, isn’t he?” Chance grinned.

“So much so that we’d like to use him in the Ranchero commercial,” Madison said. Ignoring Chance’s frown, she clasped her notebook and camera to her chest and rushed on. “I’ve talked to Ed Connelly, Ursula Rodriguez at AMV and Vince Smith, the commercial’s director. They all want to use close-ups of you working with Shiloh in the ads.”

Chance shook his head. “Shiloh’s not ready—”

“He doesn’t have to be perfect. In fact, if he were to act up a bit and you were to calm him while the cameras are rolling, it’d be great.”

Again, Chance shook his head. “You can have your pick of the horses here.” And there were plenty, Madison knew. Tennessee walking horses, Morgans, Westphalians, palominos, quarter horses, thoroughbreds, Kentucky saddlers and Arabs. “But not Shiloh,” Chance reiterated firmly.

“Why not?” Madison demanded impatiently.

Chance shrugged. “He’s still skittish enough as it is without adding too many people and cameras to the mix.”

“Then we could film the two of you from a distance.”

“No,” Chance said flatly, beginning to look a little irritated by her persistence. “You can have your pick of the others. You can even film them all at once if you want. But not Shiloh.”

Madison frowned, unable to understand why he was being so stubborn about this. Surely he wasn’t afraid of being embarrassed by a horse that wasn’t totally reliable just yet, was he? Madison pressed her lips together tightly. She’d never liked hearing the word no. She didn’t like hearing it now. “I wanted to show you taming something wild.”

Chance grinned and his blue eyes lit up. “I could always work on you.”

Glad no one else was around to hear that, Madison blushed and gave him a playful sock in the ribs. “I’m serious, Chance.”

“So am I.” Chance tugged the brim of his hat over his eyes. “The only wild filly I’m training for the benefit of your film crews is going to be you.”

That said, he chucked her under the chin and walked off to resume training Shiloh.

* * *

“H
OW ARE
THINGS
going?” Ed asked Madison a couple of weeks later.

Madison, cell phone in hand, looked at the list of potential problems, which seemed to be growing by the minute. The commercial’s director hadn’t arrived, and he was already being temperamental in his demands, asking for five-star hotel accommodations when there were none in the area. Shawna Somersby, the new intern, had thus far, despite her eagerness, botched up more things than she had gotten right. And roughly one-third of their usual film crew was not available, which meant they were going to be working with a crew that might or might not be completely in sync. “Pretty well.”

“Only pretty well?”

Madison sighed, wishing she didn’t have to break any bad news to her boss. “He’s cooperative, but only to a point.”

“What doesn’t he want to do?”

Meet with Wardrobe. Wear makeup. Do anything at all to prepare for his role in the filming. But those were things that could be easily fixed, once Madison went into full persuasive mode. The last difficulty was not going to be so easy to explain, particularly when—thanks to her constant photo and video taking—everyone had already seen the pictures of the big black stallion and gone every bit as wild over Shiloh as Madison had.

Nevertheless, she had to prepare Ed, and the others, for the disappointment. “Chance is refusing to let us film him training one of his wilder horses.”

“We’re not talking about that beautiful black stallion, are we?”

“Afraid so.”

Ed released a string of swear words. “Why the hell not?” he demanded.

Seated at the kitchen table, Madison sipped milk on the rocks and watched Chance work with Shiloh in the distance. “Chance thinks it would be dangerous,” she said wearily.

“Is it?” Ed said.

Madison frowned and tried not to think of the headache gathering behind her eyes as she watched Chance and Shiloh move as one, whirling and backing and sidestepping around the corral as if in some incredible outdoor ballet.

She tried not to think about the fluid way Chance worked a horse, with hands and feet and legs. Day by day, hour by hour, horse and man were connecting, heart and body and soul. And Chance wasn’t going to stop till the job was done. Till the horse that he’d rescued had recovered completely. It was Madison’s view that Chance was closer to achieving that goal than he was ready to admit.

“I can’t see how it’d be one bit dangerous as long as we stayed on the other side of the pasture and did the actual filming from a distance,” Madison replied in frustration.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the telephone line. “He won’t hear of that, either?” Ed snapped unhappily.

“Not so far,” Madison admitted reluctantly as an unfamiliar sports car whipped up the lane, stopping just short of the pasture where Chance was working Shiloh. “But I’m working on him,” she promised. The same way Chance was working on Shiloh.

Madison watched as Chance dismounted, left Shiloh on the other side of the pasture fence and headed for the sports car.

“Well, keep it up,” Ed advised Madison grumpily. “We want film of something with real derring-do and wild-west sex appeal when it comes to the horses, not something any grandma could do.”

Knowing an order when she heard one, Madison shut her eyes and did her best to suppress a sigh. “I got you.”

She glanced out the window, then blinked. And blinked again. Was that Rona Fitzgerald, the hottest TV actress going today? she wondered in absolute amazement. It sure as heck looked like the popular star climbing out of the low-slung sports car, and she was smiling and dashing toward Chance exuberantly.

Madison’s mouth dropped into a round O of surprise as she watched Chance embrace Rona, lift her off her feet and swing her around in a semicircle.

Madison’s research had told her Chance’s love affair with Rona was over and had been for quite a while now. Had something happened to change that?

CHAPTER SIX

C
HANCE AND
R
ONA
were still laughing and smiling and holding each other at arm’s length as Madison strode into the yard, notepad in hand. “Are you who I think you are?” Madison smiled, extending a hand.

The blond actress, her long and shimmering Goldilocks hair falling in wild curls nearly to her waist, reluctantly let go of Chance. Turning her gorgeous face to Madison, she smiled and shook her hand. “Rona Fitzgerald, in the flesh.”

“Madison Burnes.”

Rona turned to Chance, who was standing with his back against the pasture fence. “I agreed to endorse the Ranchero pickup truck. Madison is here to work on the ad campaign,” he explained.

Rona, who was clad in custom-made Western clothes similar to the ones she wore on her TV show, arched a brow at Chance. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“The proceeds are going to charity,” Madison said.

Rona grinned. “Now
that
sounds like you.”

“Did you need anything?” Chance asked Madison. His low voice gave nothing away. There was not so much as a hint of intimacy in his blue eyes. Madison should have been happy—they had agreed to keep their affair secret. So why did she suddenly want Chance to claim her?

“No.” Madison smiled again. “I just came out to say hello.” She turned as if to go back in the house.

Chance looked at Rona, his expression a mixture of business and pleasure. “Ready to go?” he asked her.

Madison told herself that was
not
jealousy she was feeling. She’d never been jealous of another woman in her life. She wasn’t about to start now.

“Absolutely.” Rona gave Chance the dazzling smile that had won her the hearts of millions. Her eyes sparkled warmly. “Where do you want me to park my car?”

“Same place as usual,” Chance said, regarding Rona with the affection of an old and trusted friend. “Down behind the barns.”

Her slender hips swaying seductively, Rona sashayed to her sports car. Chance strode toward the still-saddled Shiloh, who was snorting and lightly pawing the ground, demanding some attention, too.

Madison made her way back to the house. Her slender shoulders self-consciously stiff, she let herself inside and headed for the folding table in the corner of the living room where Chance had let her set up her belongings. Minutes later, she saw Chance ride out with Rona. He was on a big bay. She was riding a beautiful palomino. Madison had only to look at the elegant way Rona Fitzgerald sat a horse to know that—unlike Madison—she was as expert a rider as Chance. But then why not, Madison thought resentfully. For the past five years Rona had spent innumerable hours on horseback, filming her TV show.

Besides, it was none of her business even if the two were more than friends, she told herself firmly. It wasn’t as if she and Chance had promised each other anything. They had a baby on the way, one they hadn’t planned but had agreed to share. Beyond that...

Madison sighed.

So what if the incredible, overwhelming attraction she felt for him from the first was still there in spades? So what if he still desired her? In the end, that didn’t make any difference. It didn’t do any good to wonder where they would be now if she hadn’t needed him for the ad or if things would be different if they had met some other way besides the bachelor auction. There was no way to know if he would even have sought her out again by agreeing to do the ad had she not been carrying his baby. Not that this should have mattered. She had known when she left his ranch the first time that he was definitely not the man for her!

She had to concentrate on her work, Madison told herself sternly. Once the campaign was in place, everything else would work out, too. She would see to it.

Madison was still at it when Chance and Rona rode up hours later. Their boisterous laughter floated in through the windows.

“I can’t thank you enough, Chance!” Rona declared. “Same time tomorrow?”

Looking every bit as happy and relaxed as his riding partner, Chance tipped his hat. “Sounds good to me.”

Madison glanced up in time to see Chance giving Rona a hug. She kissed his cheek, got in her little sports car and drove off. Aware she wished she had been the one spending the day riding with Chance, that she had been the one on the receiving end of his quick, warm hug, Madison went back to her drawing.

Chance took both horses and headed toward the barn. It was another half hour before he came in. He was hot and sweaty, and his handsome face bore the flush of summer sun, his body the scent of horse and man. Despite all that, he looked happy and relaxed. In comparison, Madison felt the way she’d always felt when working too hard without a break—tired and deprived.

“How’s it going?” Chance asked casually. Not waiting for her reply, he tossed his hat on the rack and strode past her into the kitchen. For several seconds, Madison stared at his retreating back. Finally, she rose and headed toward the kitchen. She lounged in the doorway, arms folded, ankles crossed. In deference to the setting and the fact that none of her business associates or film crew had arrived yet, she was wearing jeans and a shirt, too, though unlike Rona’s, hers were of the store-bought variety and not custom-made.

Madison raised her voice to be heard above the running water. “I said, it’s going well.”

Unmindful of her presence, Chance leaned over the kitchen sink. He had already dispensed with his shirt and lathered up to his elbows. He looked sexy and at ease. As she studied him, her heart turned flip-flops in her chest.

Chance shot her a look over his broad, deeply suntanned shoulder, scanning her from head to toe in a thorough, breath-stealing appraisal before turning to the chore at hand. “You don’t look particularly satisfied,” he drawled.

That’s because she wasn’t, Madison thought irritably. It had been hard keeping her mind on the storyboards she had been sketching. It was even harder trying to keep from acting on the powerful desire she still felt for Chance. Whenever she was near him, it was all she could do to keep from losing sight of her professionalism, throwing herself in his arms and kissing him madly. It had been so easy to make love with him. And still would be. The hard part had been walking away. And Madison wasn’t used to that, any more than she was used to the powerful, highly irrational surge of jealousy in her gut. She was an independent career woman, for heaven’s sake. A woman with no strings and no ties. Her world did not rise and fall on the actions of any man. Except maybe Chance.

“So,” Madison said eventually, figuring she might as well find out right now exactly how much trouble she was in before she did something ludicrous, like falling head over heels in love with him. “You and Rona are still friends?”

“Yeah, we are.” Leaning forward, Chance rinsed his arms, one at a time, in the sink.

Madison was frustrated that he wasn’t more forthcoming. That he was forcing her to spell it out even when he had to know darn well exactly what it was she wanted to know. She bit her lip. “There’s no easy way to say this.”

“There isn’t?” he teased.

Madison felt heat climb from her chest into her neck. “Are the two of you still involved?”

Chance shut off the water with a snap. His expression inscrutable, he grabbed a dish towel from the rack and, turning to face her, dried his dripping arms.

She could tell by the look on his face that he considered whatever it was that was going on between him and Rona to be nothing and wanted her to leave it, but she couldn’t. She knew what a virile, passionate man Chance was. She knew how much he enjoyed making love. She had to know what she was dealing with even if it hurt, so she could get out now while the getting was still good.

“What is this?” he demanded, his eyebrows rising sharply. “The third degree?”

“First, second, whatever,” Madison quipped with a nonchalant attitude she couldn’t begin to feel. “I was just curious since she’s coming back tomorrow and everything. I wouldn’t want to be in your way or, uh, interrupt anything.”