A Baby by Chance (21 page)

Madison was sitting propped up in bed, the sheet drawn to her waist. She’d slipped on the shirt Chance had worn to dinner. It was deliciously scented with his cologne and the fragrance that was uniquely him. She’d left it unbuttoned, figuring it was only going to be undone minutes later. Obviously thinking the same way, he’d only fastened half of his button fly. Knowing he was planning to make love with her again, as soon as their bodies were fed, rested and ready, added an undeniable sensuality to the moment.

Looking at the delicious meal spread out before them, Madison said, “Looks like the chef outdid himself.”

Chance forked a golden brown hush puppy and lifted it to her lips. “My steak dinner was great, by the way.”

“I knew it.” Madison used her fingers to feed him a bite of tender succulent fish.

Chance spread butter on a roll for them and fed Madison a bite of that. “I don’t eat out that often. It’s easier to fix something here than drive into town and back.”

“Do you miss being able to go to a restaurant whenever you feel like it?” Wondering what it would be like to live here permanently, Madison sipped her milk and sat back against the pillows. She studied Chance, who looked incredibly sexy and handsome clad in just his blue jeans. Her spirits rose as she realized he was as happy and content as she was.

Chance shook his head. His dark hair was agreeably rumpled from their lovemaking. “Before I went to the ranch, fast food and diner food were all I had,” he confessed. “My dad never learned to cook—after my mom died, he didn’t have any interest. Then when he died and I went to Lost Springs, we ate in the ranch dining hall most of the time. So I’ve had it both ways. A steady diet of restaurant food and a steady diet of home cooking—which is what the ranch served.”

Madison grinned as the two of them demolished what was left of the tangy green coleslaw. “Which do you prefer?”

“Home cooking.” Chance licked his fingers, then teasingly began working on hers. “Definitely. What about you?”

Madison’s toes curled as he kissed the salty crumbs from her fingertips. “I guess I had a pretty good combination. My mother was a homemaker, and she excelled at it, took all sorts of gourmet cooking classes. And because we lived in cities—Dallas, Houston, Phoenix, New York, London and Paris—and there were abundant fine restaurants, we ate out a lot.”

“What about now?”

“Although I can cook at least a few things, thanks to my mom, I eat out most of the time, or order in. I work so much I don’t have time to do anything else.”

Madison dug into the dessert, closing her eyes in ecstasy as the rich chocolate melted on her tongue. She fed Chance one spoonful, then another and another. “I’ve seen other women do it, be homemakers and love it—especially if their marriage is a really good one—but I don’t think I really need to be married. What about you?” She studied the cocky, know-it-all curve of his lips. “Could you give all this up for marriage?”

Chance shook his head. “I’ve worked too hard and too long to attain it.” His eyes glowed with a new, ardent light and his grin widened as he removed the tray from her lap and set it aside. Tugging her into his arms, he regarded her with lazy enjoyment. “So I guess that means only one thing.” Tunneling his hands in her hair, he slanted his mouth over hers. “We better enjoy this while you’re here,” he murmured, as they began to kiss with sweeping intensity. “Because you won’t be here for long.”

It wasn’t exactly the solution either of them had been hoping for, but at the moment, Madison knew, it would do. It would have to.

CHAPTER EIGHT

M
ADISON GLANCED OUT
the window in time to see Chance—who had been working with Shiloh in the corral since shortly after dawn—climb onto the temperamental stallion’s back. Instead of bucking or fighting, the stallion bore Chance’s weight stoically. Head held high, Shiloh pranced around the corral like a show horse before a race. Once, twice, three times. After a few more rounds, Chance slipped off Shiloh’s back and unlocked the corral gate. He led a surprisingly docile Shiloh through it, then climbed on and headed out.

Madison glanced at her watch. The crews were due any minute, but she didn’t blame Chance for wanting to reward Shiloh’s hard-won progress with a taste of freedom. It was the first time Shiloh had been out of a fenced-in area since he had arrived at Chance’s ranch.

Meanwhile, Madison thought, she had problems of her own. She had broken her cardinal rule once again of not getting involved with anyone she was working with and let fantasy become reality last night by making love with Chance, not just once, but again and again and again.

And yet despite the conflict, despite her nagging conscience, she was happier than she had been in weeks. She felt close to Chance. At peace. Optimistic about the future. And those were things she hadn’t felt since she didn’t remember when. If the two of them could continue this way indefinitely, she thought wistfully. If they could continue to be together without putting any undue pressures or restrictions or conventional expectations like marriage on their relationship, she could see them being happy forever. But with a baby on the way, change was ahead of them.

The waistbands on all Madison’s clothes were beginning to feel snug. Although she could wait on the maternity clothes for another month or two, she was going to have to go up another size in regular clothes, and soon! She didn’t want anyone noticing her pregnancy yet. Madison frowned, looking down at her to-do list for the day. She had to stop thinking about Chance and the baby and how happy she was to have both in her life. She had enough on her hands trying to put the Ranchero ads together for the AMV Corporation.

Seconds later, the caravan of trucks and cars began filing in the lane, kicking up gravel dust. Madison grabbed her clipboard full of notes on the day’s planned activities and headed down the stairs. By the time she had stepped onto the porch, Chance was riding up on Shiloh. His tall, strong body framed against the golden glow of the morning sun, he rode through the meadow with the mountains rising majestically in the distance.

Watching how he sat a horse—his body straight and tall in the saddle, his gloved hands easy on the reins—Madison couldn’t help but be impressed. He was so handsome and so kind and so wonderful. The quintessential cowboy, she thought, as Chance urged Shiloh into a trot and cantered toward them. And he was all hers, at least for the moment.

“Damn, but that man can ride,” Shawna remarked as she joined Madison on the low-roofed porch.

“What an incredibly magnificent horse,” Ed added, shaking his head in admiration as Chance dismounted and put Shiloh in the adjacent corral.

Ursula couldn’t take her eyes off the black stallion. “We should use that horse in the ads.”

Madison put up a hand stop-sign fashion. “That won’t be possible,” she said firmly, immediately taking Chance’s side.

“I’d like to know why not,” Ursula retorted, looking peeved.

“Because Shiloh’s barely trained,” Chance responded, whipping off his leather gloves and coming to join them. He was happy Madison was supporting him. It meant a lot.

Ursula’s lips tightened. It was clear she felt Chance was being contrary again. “He looked fine to me.”

“Looks, as we all know, can be deceiving,” Chance replied, folding his arms as if for battle.

“Chance is right,” Madison said quickly, stepping between them and doing her best to make peace before an argument broke out. “Shiloh is just now getting trained. He would be unreliable, at best. It isn’t worth the risk.”

Ursula’s frown deepened.

Madison’s boss sent a conciliatory look at the AMV Corporation exec then turned to Madison. “May I see you a moment? Privately?”

Uh-oh,
Madison thought,
here it comes.

Chance brushed by them, heading for the front door. “I’m going up to get a shower,” he said.

“No. Don’t. Stay just as you are,” Ursula interjected.

Vince Smith joined them. “I agree,” he said.

“I thought we were going to try and match Chance to one of the models and film the black tie scenes today,” Madison said.

“Right now I want some shots of Chance just as he is,” Vince stated.

Chance rolled his eyes at the absurdity of it all, at least from his point of view, but gave up on the idea of a shower—momentarily, anyway. He stalked to the garden hose, turned it on and drank deeply from the water pouring out of the end.

Meanwhile, Ed steered Madison to a corner of the yard. “May I remind you that this is one of the largest accounts our agency has ever had? Thus far, given Chance Cartwright’s uncooperative attitude, it hasn’t been going all that smoothly. So if Ursula and/or the AMV Corporation want that particular horse to be used—”

“I know what you’re saying.” Madison put up her clipboard to cut short the lecture. “And normally I would agree with you and just do what the client wants, even if we had to discard the film later because it wasn’t right for the commercial. Unfortunately, we can’t do that here. Shiloh may have responded to Chance’s gentle touch, but he’s still prone to some pretty drastic mood swings. He’ll be totally calm one minute, completely wild the next. We can’t possibly use him in any of the commercials. There are, however, many other horses here that are equally beautiful that Chance has given us full permission to use.”

“Any other big black stallions?”

“Well, no, but they are docile and completely reliable when it comes to following Chance’s direction.” She had seen him working with them over the last few weeks.

Ed grimaced and turned his glance to the activity going on around them as the film crew set up their equipment. “I have a feeling ‘docile’ is not what Ursula wants here.”

“Just trust me on this, okay?” Madison said, as determined to protect Chance’s interests as she was to finish the commercial. “AMV is going to be happy with the finished Ranchero ads.” She paused and met her boss’s assessing gaze, her stubborn determination evident. “I haven’t let you down yet, have I?”

Ed didn’t reply. He didn’t have to. They both knew she hadn’t.

And wouldn’t, Madison thought. Not if she had anything at all to say about it.

* * *

“V
INCE IS RIGHT
—it’s like trying to pair a swimsuit with combat boots and a gun.” Madison shook her head. “It isn’t going to work no matter how we pretty things up.”

“I agree.” Ed Connelly sighed. They had spent hours attempting to pair Chance with one of the half-dozen models the Dallas agency had sent. “The look just isn’t right.”

And with the dinner hour nearing, Madison thought, glancing at her watch, there wasn’t much hope they would get the shots accomplished on schedule.

“There’s no chemistry between any of them,” Ursula complained.

Madison knew that, and she couldn’t help but be secretly pleased.

“Even when he’s trying to look interested, Chance comes off as barely engaged,” Ed observed.

“You’d think he would cotton to one of them,” Shawna said wistfully. “I mean, you gotta admit—” she leaned close, confiding “—these ladies are no slouches in the looks department, and we’ve got a good variety, too. Two blondes. Two brunettes. And two redheads. All with figures and faces to die for.”

“There’s just no faking chemistry. Either you’ve got it or you don’t,” Vince said, frowning.

“That’s true,” Ursula remarked as she sat in one of the canvas folding chairs. “The only woman I’ve seen Chance warm up to the whole time we’ve been here is Madison.”

Abruptly, all eyes turned to Madison. Embarrassed, she tried not to flush. “I’ve worked hard to develop a rapport with him,” she explained.

“Then why not use it?” Ursula said practically. “Let’s pair Madison with Chance on film and see what happens. She’s certainly pretty enough. And, as Madison said, they’ve already established a rapport.”

Madison gulped. “I couldn’t possibly.” Carrying on with Chance in private was one thing. She had begun to see that as inevitable. But having it known, or even suspected, would put her in a league with her father, whose affairs with colleagues had been and were still the cause of a lot of gossip. Madison did not want to go down that road.

“Sure you can,” Ed said, smiling his encouragement. He stood and beckoned the wardrobe mistress with a crook of his finger. “Get Madison gussied up. We’re going to try filming her.”

Thirty minutes later, Madison was dressed in a sleeveless white evening gown, her hair swept into a sophisticated French twist, tendrils escaping down her neck.

Chance strode onto the front porch, a fistful of wildflowers clutched in his hand. He swept off his hat—just as the director had ordered—as he neared her.

“Looking good,” Chance whispered as he approached her on cue.

Nothing they were saying to each other was going to be on the commercial, of course. They were just supposed to be seen smiling and speaking to each other, as a man and a woman would on a real date.

Madison smiled and tried not to feel self-conscious. Or let herself be reminded that the first time they’d met he had presented her with a bunch of flowers, too. “Looking good, yourself.” She tried to keep her actions loose and natural and found it wasn’t as easy as it looked.

As scripted, Chance offered her his arm. “Ready for an evening of fun?”

Madison hooked her arm through his. “As soon as this is over?” She held his gaze, aware she could cheerfully drown in the sexy twinkle of his gorgeous eyes, even if it hadn’t been in the script. She took the flowers from him and briefly buried her face in them. “You bet!”

Chance leaned down and kissed her just above the ear. “So how does it feel to be on camera?” he murmured.

Madison hugged him, also as scripted. “Horribly uncomfortable,” she said, holding his eyes in the flirtatious manner in which they’d been directed. It was wonderful, being with Chance. And it continued being wonderful as they went through the paces of their “date” in the new Ranchero pickup truck. And for the first time since filming had begun, Chance didn’t seem to mind doing something over and over and over again.

Finally, they were near the end.