Chapter One
Princess Michelina had bought herself a black Ford truck.
Exhilaration at her newfound freedom, however, was
tempered with a sliver of uneasiness. She was somewhere in
Wyoming, but she wasn't exactly sure where, and she had a
sinking sensation she should have purchased a mobile
Global Positioning System.
The skinny road wound through the darkness with a few
token signs. It was bad enough that she didn't know where
she was, but Michelina constantly had to fight the urge to
veer to the left side of the road.
Why did Americans drive on the wrong side of the road,
anyway?
She turned a corner, and her headlights flashed across a
cow standing in the middle of the road. Panic sliced
through her. She veered to the right and barreled through
a fence. Before she could catch her breath or regain
control of the truck, a barn loomed in front of her. With
a cry of panic, Michelina slammed on the brakes.
Too late. She plowed into the barn. The last thing she saw
was the steering wheel before her head slammed into it.
Everything went black.
* * *
"Truck hit the barn! Truck hit the barn," Gary Ridenour
yelled as he burst into the foyer of Jared McNeil's quiet
home.
Jared kissed his chance for an hour of evening peace
goodbye and stuffed the newspaper into the magazine holder
as he stood. He fought an undertow of dread. "What do you
mean,"truck hit the barn'?"
Breathless from his sprint, Gary shrugged and waved his
arms. "Some truck came out of nowhere and ran into Romeo's
barn."
Alarm sliced through Jared and he immediately grabbed his
keys and headed for the door. "Romeo!" Romeo was his prize
bull, and raked in the bucks with stud fees. Jared stomped
through the front door and down the steps with Gary at his
heels. "What happened?"
Gary shrugged again. "I'm not sure. I thought about
checking on Romeo, but decided I'd better come and get you
first."
Jared nodded and climbed into his truck. "Damn, if
anything happened to that bull, whoever ran into the barn
is going to learn the meaning of the word trouble."
Gary scooted into the truck just as Jared started the
engine, shooting his boss a wary look. Everyone knew how
important Romeo was. "That bull's tough. Maybe he slept
through the whole thing."
"Romeo's a big baby," Jared corrected, scowling as he
turned onto a dirt road. "He's probably bawling his head
off."
Jared didn't need this. Besides being the owner of the
largest ranch in southeastern Wyoming, he was interim
everything at the moment. The local mayor had quit
ranching and retired to Florida, so Jared was filling in
until someone's arm was twisted hard enough to persuade
him or her to take on that position, and since his sister
and her husband were recovering from a serious automobile
accident, Jared was filling in as caretaker to his two
young nieces. Rounding the curve in the road, he pulled to
a sharp stop and stepped out of the truck.
The night was black as pitch, and the first sound Jared
heard was a bull bawling for all he was worth. Just as
he'd predicted. He scowled. "I guess that's a good sign.
At least he's not dead," he muttered as Gary joined him
and they walked into the barn.
Romeo was alternately pawing the ground and bawling as he
lifted his head toward a black truck in the barn. Jared
felt a sliver of relief that his prize animal appeared to
be physically unharmed. Ready to tear a strip off the
reckless driver who'd crashed into the barn, he walked
toward the truck. "Hey, buddy!" he called. "You better
have damn good insurance -" He broke off when he saw a
woman slumped over the wheel. Swearing under his breath,
he pulled the door open. "What the -"
Gary raced to his side. "What is it, Mr. McNeil?
What ...?" Gary gawked. "It's a lady."
Jared tentatively reached out to touch the woman, and she
moaned, sending a trickle of relief through him. "She's
alive," he murmured. "Miss?" he asked, reaching for her
hand and patting it.
"Should we call 911?" Gary asked.
"Let's give it another minute or two," Jared said, still
patting her hand.
She lifted her head slightly and moaned again. "Mon dieu,"
she said under her breath.
Jared couldn't hold back a wince at the furrow of pain
between her dark eyebrows. Her dark silky hair sweeping
over her cheek couldn't conceal her finely sculpted bone
structure and velvet-textured, tanned complexion. Her
eyelids fluttered, her eyes slowly focusing on him.
The intense, light-gray, almost silver color of her eyes
took his speech for a full moment. He blinked, and of its
own volition, his gaze traveled down the rest of her. She
wore a fitted T-shirt that emphasized her small, round
breasts and didn't quite meet the top of the low-slung
jeans that hugged her hips and long legs.
Her eyelids fluttered again, and her dark eyelashes
provided a sexy peek-a-boo fringe that concealed her
exotic eyes.
Jared inhaled and caught a whiff of a scent that combined
French, forbidden and expensive. He had the uncomfortable
feeling that this woman was going to be trouble.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
She nodded slightly, then winced. "I think so, but my head
hurts like bloody hell."
Trying to place her accent, which had traces of French,
British and American, he pointed his finger at her
forehead. "You're going to have a goose egg."
She glanced past the steering wheel. "What about the
damage? How bad is the damage?"
"I think the bull will be okay, but you knocked out most
of this side of the barn."
"I was referring to my truck," she said in a regal tone.
Jared raised his eyebrows. "I haven't inspected your
truck. As long as you have good insurance, you should be
okay."
She looked at him with a blank gaze, and Jared felt his
stomach sink. No insurance. He would bet half his acreage
on it. He narrowed his eyes. He was done helping wealthy
damsels in distress. If Miss Silver Eyes didn't have
insurance, then she could fork over the money. "I'm Jared
McNeil and this is my barn and my ranch. What's your
name?"
"Mi -" She broke off, and a sliver of panic crossed her
face.
"Mi - what?"
"Mimi," she said with conviction. "Mimi what?"
She paused a half beat, her gaze flickering away from
his. "Deer -" she looked at him again " - man. Deerman.
Mimi Deerman. Please accept my apologies for running into
your barn."
© 2003-2026