Diamonds and Spurs [The Callens 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  The Callens 9

  Diamonds and Spurs

  Denver socialite Mandy Duncan is on the run from her ex-husband. She knows about his Ponzi scheme, and only she stands between him and jail. He’s determined to stop her from ever talking.

  Mandy escapes to Samantha Callen’s ranch in Intrigue, Wyoming, and hires on as a wilderness guide. Distrustful of men, Mandy doesn’t want to be attracted to Samantha’s cousin, financial guru Vince Callen, or to his sophisticated lawyer roommate, Cameron Longworth, but she is.

  Then Cameron and Vince’s ex-fiancée decides she wants them back. When Cameron tells her he’s found someone new, she decides Mandy needs to go.

  When Mandy is shot, Cameron and Vince won’t let her out of their sight, and their passion explodes. Then she’s kidnapped. Frantic, Cameron and Vince risk it all to save her. How can they convince her to trust her heart again and want a loving ménage relationship?

  Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys

  Length: 51,058 words

  DIAMONDS AND SPURS

  The Callens 9

  Melody Snow Monroe

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  DIAMONDS AND SPURS

  Copyright © 2013 by Melody Snow Monroe

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-669-0

  First E-book Publication: April 2013

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  DIAMONDS AND SPURS

  The Callens 9

  MELODY SNOW MONROE

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  “I’m serious about divorcing you.” Despite every precaution, Amanda Clairbourne’s underarms refused to stay dry. Her mouth had the opposite problem.

  Say something, Craig. Her leg wouldn’t stop shaking, and her nail beds had turned white from clenching her hands so hard. Turn around, you bastard.

  Craig Clairbourne pulled the cork out of the crystal decanter and poured a scotch—neat. With glass in hand, he finally faced her and arched his brow. “I know you can’t possibly be serious, darling.” His delivery came out metered. “You’re angry about the vacation we were supposed to go on. I get it. I said I was sorry for cancelling.”

  His attitude didn’t surprise her. The arrogant SOB would never consider she’d leave him and his millions, but he was dead wrong. She didn’t care that he conveniently forgot the trip to Europe. Hell, he was the one who wanted to go in the first place, but a last-minute poker game apparently was more important than spending time with his wife.

  He closed the cabinet on their home bar softly, strolled over to his favorite chair, and eased onto the leather recliner. With one tug of the lever, the footpad rose and he stretched out his legs. “You do recall signing a prenup, don’t you?” He swirled the golden liquid in his glass in a perfect circle.

  His calm scared her more than if he’d yelled. “Yes. I don’t want your money.”

  He reached for the remote. If he turned on the television, she’d be tempted to grab a butcher knife and cut off his hand. His fingers hovered then closed. He looked up at her and raised a brow. “Perhaps you don’t realize how much you’ve come to rely on your country club membership, your weekly tennis lessons, spa treatments and endless shopping sprees.”

  “I’m willing to do without.” As long as you’re out of the picture.

  He chuckled as if this was one big joke. He finally made eye contact. “We’re so happy.”

  He was delusional. He’d received the summons for the divorce three months ago, yet he refused to take her seriously. As for being happy, they had been until the deceit began.

  Mandy inhaled her courage and moved between him and his precious screen. She wanted to watch his face twitch. “No, we aren’t. Or at least I’m not. We don’t talk anymore, and we never communicate.” Not that she expected him to tell her he’d bilked millions from investors, but he shouldn’t have placed her in such a tenuous position. She didn’t look good in orange.

  For a man who earned two million a year from just one of his day spas, he didn’t need to steal. Owning four homes around the world would have satisfied most men, but greed wasn’t what drove him—power did.

  “That’s harsh. You know I’m a busy man. Would you like to talk now? Get everything out in the open? Tell me what your problem really is.” He set his glass down, eased off the recliner, and stood. His broad shoulders seemed to widen as his chest expanded. It reminded her of a damned porcupine on the defense.

  Don’t come near me. He’d hit her only once in their marriage, and she vowed if he touched her again, she’d run to the police faster than he could count one day’s earning. His scheming ways forced her into this protective mode. Divorce was the only answer. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

  He tugged on the sleeve of his cuff-linked shirt and oozed closer. “Amanda honey, let me pour you a drink. There must be som
e misunderstanding. I can fix whatever is wrong.”

  You prick. She flinched when he placed his palms on her shoulders. “Sure.”

  She only agreed to a drink because if he believed she’d go through with the divorce then never look back, he’d lock her in her room and let her out only when he needed to parade a wife around. His body stiffened as he returned to the bar. He poured her a glass of her favorite wine, using his family’s heirloom goblet. He never used the Clairbourne crystal unless he meant to impress.

  He was scared. Good.

  “Here you go.” His fingers brushed hers, and her stomach clenched. “Now tell me what’s really troubling you.” His cold gaze never left her face. “I’ll call the judge tomorrow morning and say you changed your mind.”

  She’d warned her lawyer that Craig might pull that stunt, and for him not to do as her husband asked. Her practiced lie came easily. “Like I’ve said before, you work such long hours. I’m lonely.”

  “One of us has to make money.”

  Figures he wouldn’t care about her concerns. She schooled her features. “You insisted I quit teaching.” He’d claimed serving the state was beneath a Clairbourne.

  He stroked her cheek and tilted his head. The endearment, meant to give comfort, solidified her decision to leave him.

  “Is that what this is all about? You want to work?” For a split second the left side of his lip curled, but he quickly recovered.

  “I don’t know what I need.” She was impressed that her comment actually came out sounding truthful. “I think I just need some time alone to figures things out.” That wasn’t true. She wanted to wait out the next three days by herself. She feared if she stayed a minute longer in the house, he’d retaliate.

  His brows furrowed. “Sure, sweetheart. Why don’t you visit your mom or stay in our Portland home for a while? I know how much you love the sea.”

  “That’s a good idea.” With as much conviction as she could muster, she kissed his cheek. “I’ll go pack.”

  “You do that.”

  She was halfway to the stairs when she stopped and turned around. She wasn’t quite sure what made her ask, but something inside had her opening her mouth. “Do even care that I’m unhappy?” Or are you only concerned with appearances?

  His flinty eyes bored into her. “Of course I care.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll see you on Monday at the divorce hearing.”

  “Don’t be like that, Amanda. We can work it out.”

  You stupid bastard. Craig Clairbourne had no idea what was about to hit him.

  * * * *

  Mandy’s stomach refused to settle no matter how many antacids she downed. After packing her toiletries and the clothes Craig would expect her to take, she left the house without saying good-bye. Relieved he hadn’t prevented her from going, the first thing she did was toss her cell phone in the tall flowerpot by the front door. If he tried to trace her whereabouts, he’d find she’d never left home.

  The hardest part of her decision had been pretending all was well, not only between her and Craig, but with her friends while she planned her getaway. For weeks, she’d withdrawn small amounts of cash from the ATM and stashed it in a newly opened bank account using her maiden name.

  Over time, she’d moved some of her more expensive jewelry from their joint safety deposit box to one in her name only. She planned to sell piece by piece as needed. Five years of marriage had to be worth something.

  She and Craig had purchased two other homes, but he’d put the title in his name, claiming it was better for tax purposes. Now she regretted her naiveté.

  Before she said good-bye to Denver forever, she stopped at the bank to empty the contents of her safety deposit box and then headed to the stables. Charger, her beautiful black Arabian, was at the exclusive country club Craig insisted they join. Her horse would be the only thing she’d miss. Okay, that wasn’t quite true. She’d miss Candace, Beth, and Lisa, her three good friends.

  If Craig learned she’d come to say good-bye to her horse, he might actually worry she would leave him.

  Her horse whinnied as she neared and stroked his forehead. “I’m sorry I forgot an apple for you, boy.” Charger nudged her hand. Tears brimmed. “I promise I’ll come back for you.”

  He dipped his head as if he understood. She’d had more heart-to-hearts with this animal than she’d had with her husband. If she’d realized Craig’s slick ways were smoke screens to conceal his sick Ponzi scheme, she never would have married him.

  “I wish I could take you for one quick ride, but I have to go.” She hugged him once more and ran back to her car.

  As she slid into her Mercedes convertible, she ran a hand over the console. Soon, she’d have to part with this baby, too. Starting over meant no more five-hundred-dollar shoes, no weekly manicures, massages, or costly tennis lessons that never seemed to help her game anyway.

  She’d also have to give up her salon face creams, expensive brow and pussy waxing, and organic foods. Born into the middle class, she’d grown to love the high-society life the Clairbourne name provided. Now that was over and she had to move on.

  She’d sold a few of the more expensive pieces of jewelry and hired a divorce lawyer, one who hadn’t invested in Craig’s spa. He’d read the prenuptial agreement and decried it airtight. She wouldn’t get any money if she left him. That was fine by her. This wasn’t about getting rich. She had no trouble working for a living.

  As much as she wanted to just drive and drive, stopping only when fatigue claimed her, she needed closure. Not to mention she couldn’t go without the divorce papers in hand. Hopefully, in seventy-two hours, she’d be a free woman.

  Mandy wanted to say good-bye to Candace Jackson, her best friend, who unfortunately worked for Craig. Mandy needed to let Candy know that Craig would be on the warpath once they faced the judge together. He’d be livid when she didn’t cave to his cajoling. Knowing him, he’d probably blame Candy for not assuring him that his wife was indeed serious about leaving him. Mandy hoped Craig believed Candy when she told him she had no idea.

  Not far from town, Mandy stopped at an economy hotel to spend the night and regroup. Please let there be no bed bugs. Stained bedspreads, Formica counters, and even a television with rabbit ears she could live with. As long as the sheets were clean and the room didn’t reek of cigarette smoke, she’d deal. Staying in a five-star hotel was now a thing of the past.

  Paying with cash, at least after the divorce hearing, was a must, as Craig would trace her credit card movement. His ego would demand it.

  When she checked into the room, the desk clerk didn’t question her use of cash, but the young girl did give her the once over. She probably wasn’t used to seeing a customer in a Michael Kors outfit wearing a diamond necklace.

  Once in the room, she dropped on the bed, and pushed back the depression. Time to call Candy. Last week, Mandy had purchased a phone from Walmart along with a calling card. The electronics clerk assured her it was untraceable. Let’s hope he was right. She dialed her best friend’s number.

  “Hello?” Several voices sounded in the background along with the ping of a tennis racquet hitting a ball.

  “Candy, it’s me, Mandy.”

  “Mandy! Where are you?”

  In hiding. “I have to cancel our match.” Actually, she’d forgotten to call sooner. Damn. “I need to see you.” A sob caught in her throat and she swallowed.

  “I’ve never heard you this upset. What’s wrong, sweetie?”

  She never could fool Candy. “I’ll tell you when you get here. I’ll be at Starbucks on Anderson and State Road 43.” She’d picked this hotel because of its proximity to the coffee shop.

  “What are you doing way out there?” She had to shout over Beth’s yell. Mandy, Beth Simpson, Candy, and Lisa Brightner had a standing tennis match every Friday. From the joy in Beth’s tone, she must have won the match—a rarity against Lisa.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Give me
a minute to let the girls know I won’t be playing the winner. I’ll be there as fast as I can. You okay?”

  “Not really. I’m divorcing Craig.” She didn’t need to be discussing something as sensitive as this over the phone. “Just hurry. Okay?” She had to have a foolproof plan come Monday afternoon.

  “Oh, my God. When did this happen? I had no idea.”

  That was the point. “We’ll talk when you get here, okay?”

  “Danica Patrick won’t be able to catch me.”

  That made her chuckle. Mandy disconnected and lay back on the bed. A migraine built behind her eyes. A quick shot of caffeine would help. Knowing Candace, she’d tell Lisa and Beth about the strange call and the three would speculate about the reason for the shocking news. Mandy had fooled them all.

  Candy would need at least thirty minutes to get here, and Mandy needed the caffeine now. The July day was sunny, and a good walk would do her good.

  She changed into her casual clothes. The half-mile walk would clear her mind and help her get in touch with the real Mandy Duncan Clairbourne once more.

  Inside the coffee shop, she purchased a double latte and a chocolate-chip cookie then settled at a corner table where she could keep an eye on the entrance. She retrieved her iPad to search for jobs.

  While she hadn’t settled on any particular town, Wyoming seemed the perfect spot. Craig claimed the state looked as if a nuclear bomb had exploded and wiped out the population. He’d never expect her to hide there. Without many large shopping malls to speak of or tennis courts at prestigious clubs, he’d figure she’d never go there. That was the crux of the problem. Only Craig thought she needed material goods to be happy, when in fact she didn’t. She liked the pleasure of teaching kids, of seeing the cheer on their face when they did something right. While she had a Colorado teaching certificate, she wouldn’t be employable in another state without taking more classes. Not having had a job in the last five years, she might need to shoot for something at minimum wage.