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"I think he's probably more interested in what she has between her legs rather than between her ears," I suggested dryly.
"Don't be crass."
I walked up to the window in the living room and watched my brother with his new girlfriend.
Isha was the antithesis of Caitlyn.
Where Caitlyn was pale and blonde, Isha was brown and brunette, with big eyes and a wide mouth. Caitlyn was petite and sexy, while Isha was tall and graceful. When Caitlyn wore shorts and a T-shirt, she oozed sex appeal. Isha was in shorts and a t-shirt, and looked like she was posing for Vogue's outdoor edition.
Then there was how she spoke. Deb had said that she sounded blue collar. To me, she sounded sophisticated and untouchable, while Caitlyn was flighty, flirty, and boring as fuck.
Isha's laughter sparked a light in her eyes, revealing how good she was at wearing masks. Her demeanor cleverly concealed her true intention: to trap a wealthy man. Surprisingly, Ace seemed oblivious to this, treating her with unwavering gentleness—holding her hand and wrapping an arm around her. There was no overt physical intimacy between them in public, hell, I hadn't even seen them kiss. And then there was the fact that they didn't share a bedroom, which I found peculiar. But I'd seen Ace leaving her room the previous night, which had filled me with anger.
I was a grown man. I knew what I was feeling.
I wanted Isha!
I was lusting after a girl eight years younger than me, who was sleeping with my brother, and who was, for all practical purposes, a whore. No matter how attracted I was to a woman, no way was I going to dip my dick into my brother's sloppy seconds.
"You know we have to fix this," Deb insisted.
I knew. I was working on a land deal with the Masons, and even though Ace and Caitlyn had broken up, we were all certain they'd get back together. But now Ace was prancing around with this foreigner, which was going to piss off Jack Mason, and there was a good chance, if his daughter insisted, he'd ask me to go fuck myself on the deal.
"I know, Deb."
Ace's mother was not my biological mother. Mine had died when I was a year and a half old. I didn't remember her. My father married Deb when I was four, but she never became Mama, always Deb. She'd complained about it for years, especially when I did it in public, but I'd told her to can that shit. She wasn't my mother and hadn't, to my father's chagrin, been motherly to me. I would not dignify her with that title. She'd have to be happy with Ace as the loving son and me as the meal ticket.
My father had left everything to me when he died five years ago.
Ace would only inherit if something happened to me. He had an allowance that would be more than enough for most, but not the way Ace liked to live. Chartered planes, Michelin-star restaurants, expensive wines, hotel suites….
I made sure he was taken care of. Money wasn’t an issue. We had plenty.
Deb would inherit no Ledger asset but was entitled to an income, which did not support her lifestyle and, just like I did with her son, I took care of her. She spent her time in Montana at the ranch and in New York in an apartment I owned in Manhattan. She came to Montana during the summer and fall, when there was more social activity, and during the holidays. Couldn't let anyone think the Ledgers weren't one big, fucking happy family.
Life was working out like gangbusters for Deborah Ledger.
"Well, what are you going to do?" she demanded.
"I'm going to convince her she's been tryin' to trap the wrong brother," I said, making that decision as I watched Isha, feeling a surge of excitement at that thought.
Her honey-brown skin was dewy, and unlike the women around here who needed to get a tan, she came by it honestly with her unknown heritage. Her eyes were steel gray, giving her an ethereal look. And then there was the body. I liked my women well-rounded. I was a tits-and-ass man. But Isha had something that most women didn't. She was regal. It wasn't just the British accent, it was her posture, how she stood with a straight back, how she moved with elegance. She had this touch-me-not air about her, making me want to do exactly that.
"Be careful, Rowan."
I turned away from Isha and looked at my stepmother. "Why?"
"Maybe she'll ensnare you," Deb suggested smugly.
I smirked. "Won't happen. Don’t you know how hard it is to catch a wild mustang?"
Chapter 2
Isha
It was my first time in Montana. As a big fan of the TV show Yellowstone, it had been a dream come true when Ace suggested I spend a month at his family ranch while I was homeless. The lease on my old apartment had ended, and the lease on the new one was three weeks away. When Ace made the offer, I felt the universe was giving me a sign to go have fun—for the first time in my life.
I'd never gone on holiday, ever. I'd always worked through every weekend and holiday. I had no support system except my friend Yasmin, who was, alas, moving to New York with her American fiancée, whom she'd been living in London with for the past year. I was happy for her, but bugger it, I was going to miss her like mad.
