Free In Bed with the Wrangler by Barbara Dunlop

She’d become a bit of a news junkie while finishing her degree, always on the lookout for emerging issues that might impact on her research. Having gone cold turkey in Montana, she should have missed watching world events unfold.
    Of course, she had been a little distracted—okay, alot distracted by a sexy cowboy who was quickly making her forget there was a world outside the Ryder Ranch.
    She’d half expected him to kiss her last night.
    He’d stared down at her with those intense blue eyes, nostrils slightly flared, hands bunched into fists, and the muscles in his neck bulging in relief against his skin. She’d imagined him leaning down, planting his lips against hers, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into paradise all over again.
    But then he’d backed off, and she hadn’t been brave enough to protest.
    Now she sighed with regret as she clicked the mouse, bringing up a live news broadcast from a Chicago network. The buffer loaded, and the announcer carried on with a story about a local bridge repair.
    She turned back to the desk, lifting the stack that was the day’s mail. Barry Brewster hadn’t arrived to confirm the bank balance yet, so she couldn’t make any progress paying the backlog of bills.
    Truth was, she was dreading the man’s arrival. No matter what he said or did, it was going to be embarrassing all around. Royce might think she needed an apology, but Amber had spent most of her life with people being polite to her because they either admired or were afraid of her father or Hargrove. She didn’t need the same thing from Barry today.
    “The Governor’s Office can no longer get away with dodging the issue of Chicago’s competitiveness.” The familiar voice startled Amber. She whirled to stare at the computer screen, where a news clip showed Hargrove posed in front of the Greenwood Financial Tower with several microphones picking up his words.
    “His performance at the conference was shameful,”Hargrove continued. “If our own governor won’t stand up for the citizens of Chicago, I’d like to know who will.”
    Guilt percolated through Amber, and she quickly shut off the sound. She watched his face a few seconds longer, telling herself her actions had been defensible. If she’d stayed, she’d probably be standing right next him, holding his hand, the stalwart little fiancée struggling to come to terms with her role in his life.
    He looked good on camera. Then, he’d always had a way with reporters, dodging their pointed questions without appearing rude, making a little information sound like a detailed dissertation. It was the reason the party was grooming him for the election.
    A child shouted from outside the window, and Amber concentrated on the sound, forcing her mind from the worry about Hargrove to the seclusion of the ranch. Then another child shouted, and a chorus of cheers went up. Curious, she wandered to the window to look out.
    Off to the left, on a flat expanse of lawn, a baseball game was underway. It was mostly kids of the ranch staff, but there were a few adults in the field. And there in the center, pitching the baseball, was Royce. She smiled when he took a few paces forward, lobbing a soft one to a girl who couldn’t have been more than eight.
    The girl swung and missed, but then she screwed her face up in defiance and positioned herself at the plate, tapping the bat on the white square in front of her. Royce took another step forward.
    Amber smiled, then she glanced one more time at Hargrove on the computer screen—her old life.
    As the days and hours had slipped by, she’d become more convinced that her decision was right. She had nointention of going back to her old life. And she owed it to Hargrove to make that clear.
    She searched for her cell phone on the desktop, powered it up and dialed his number.
    “Hargrove Alston,” he answered.
    “Hargrove? It’s Amber.”
    Silence.
    “I wanted to make sure you weren’t worried about me,” she