Mail-order bridegroom (5 page)

'You will. You will when the banks tell you that I'm your only choice other than bankruptcy.'

She shook her head, desperate to deny his words. 'How can you possibly do that?'

'You'd be surprised at what I can do.'

'What's happened to you?' she whispered. 'Mercy used to be a part of your nature.'

He gazed at her impassively. 'Not any more. You saw to that. It's your decision. And to help you decide...'

She knew what he intended; she recognized the passion in his expression, saw the resolve in his eyes. To her eternal disgust she lifted her face to meet his kiss. Curiosity, that was all it was, she told herself. But she lied. Her curiosity had been appeased earlier. She knew from that first kiss that her reaction to his touch hadn't changed, not even after eight years.

No, she returned his kiss because she wanted to experience the wonder of it again. To come alive beneath his mouth and hands. To relive, if only for a moment, the mind-splintering rapture only he could arouse. He took his time, drinking his fill, sharing the passion that blazed with such incredible urgency.

But it was all an illusion. She knew that. He wanted the ranch and would use any means available to get it. Even seducing her. Even marrying her. And she'd be a fool to forget that.

Lifting his head, he gazed down at her. 'What we once had isn't finished, Leah,' he informed her in a rough, husky voice. 'There's still something between us. Something that needs to be settled, once and for all.'

She eased back. 'And you think our marriage will settle it?'

'One way or another,' he confirmed.

'You don't leave me much choice.'

'I've left you one choice. And I'm it.'

He set her from him, his expression once more cool and distant. In that instant she hated him. Hated him for making her want again. Hated him for resurrecting all that she'd struggled so hard to forget. But she especially hated him for being able to turn off his emotions with so little effort. Because she knew her emotions weren't as easily mastered.

'Twenty-four hours, Leah. After that, you're history.' And, without another word, he left her.

Long after he'd ridden away she stood on the front porch, unable to move, unable to think. Finally, with a muffled sob, she buried her head in her hands and allowed the tears to come.

CHAPTER THREE

Hunter walked into his office and set his briefcase on his desk. A brief knock sounded on the door behind him and his assistant, Kevin Anderson, poked his head in the door.

'Oh, you're back. How did it go? Did she agree to sell the ranch?'

Opening his briefcase, Hunter removed a bulky file and tossed it to one side. 'Not yet. But I'll have it soon... one way or another.' He turned and faced his assistant, allowing his displeasure to show. 'Why didn't you tell me about Bull Jones and what he's been up to?'

'The foreman?' Kevin hesitated, then shrugged. 'I didn't think it was important.'

Anger made Hunter speak more sharply than he would have otherwise. 'Well, it damned well is important. You don't make those decisions. I do.'

'Sorry, boss. It won't happen again,' came Kevin's swift apology. Then he asked cautiously, 'I assume you've made the foreman's acquaintance?'

'In a manner of speaking.'

'Did he recognize you?'

Hunter didn't answer immediately. Instead, he crossed to the window and stared out at the Houston skyline. The intense humidity from the Gulf of Mexico rippled the air on the far side of the thick, tinted glass, signaling the start of another South Texas heatwave. 'No,' he finally said. 'He didn't recognize me. But then I didn't go out of my way to introduce myself.'

'That's probably smart. What do you want done about him?'

'Nothing for now/ Hunter turned back and faced his assistant. 'But I may need to take action in the future/

'Whatever you say. You're the boss/

Hunter inclined his head. 'One last thing before you

go.'

'Sure. Anything/

'You keep me informed from now on. No matter how minor or insignificant. I won't be caught off-guard again/

'Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,' Kevin agreed. Then he quietly excused himself and slipped from the room.

After a brief hesitation Hunter crossed to his desk and flipped open the file marked 'Hampton Homestead/ A white tide of letters, legal documents and several photos spilled across the gleaming ebony surface. Reaching out, he selected two photos of Leah—one identical to the picture he'd studied in the Hampton study, the other a snapshot only a month old.

Examining the more recent of the two, a savage desire clawed through him, unexpected and intense. He still wanted her.. .wanted to rip her hair free of her braid, feel her silken limbs clinging to him, feel again her softness beneath him.

He dropped the photo to his desk. Soon, he promised himself. Very, very soon.

'We have to talk,' Grandmother Rose announced the next morning, slamming a thick porcelain mug in front of Leah.

Leah closed her eyes, stifling a groan. She hadn't slept a wink last night and could barely face the unrelenting morning sun, let alone a more unrelenting grandmother. 'If this is about Hunter, I don't want to discuss it/

'It's about Hunter.'

'I don't want to discuss it.'

'Tough toenails. I have a confession to make and you're going to listen to every last word, even if I have to wrestle you to the floor and sit on you.'

The picture of her ninety-pound grandmother putting her in a headlock and forcing her to the tile floor brought a reluctant smile to Leah's mouth. 'Can we at least talk about the weather for five minutes while I drink my coffee?'

'It's sunny and eighty-five in the shade. Hope you swallowed fast. Now. About Hunter.'

Deep purplish-blue eyes held Leah's in a direct, steady gaze. The eye color and a relentless determination were only two of the qualities Leah shared with her grandmother. Unfortunately, Rose's determination included a stubbornness even beyond Leah's. She gave up. She'd never won an argument with her grandmother, a circumstance unlikely to change any time in the near future. 'What about him?' she asked with a sigh.

'What he said yesterday about the sheriff was true,' Rose announced. 'Every word.'

Leah straightened in her chair. 'You heard? You were listening?'

'I did and I was, and I'm not one bit ashamed to admit it. What I am ashamed to admit is that I betrayed your confidence to your father eight years ago.' She twisted her thick gold wedding-band around a knobby finger, the only external sign of her agitation.

'You warned Dad that I planned to run away with Hunter.' It wasn't a question. Leah had already figured out what must have happened. The only person she'd confessed to about that long-ago meeting sat across the table from her. Not that she'd ever expose her grandmother's involvement to Hunter.

'Yes, I told your father/ Rose confirmed. 'I told Ben because, selfishly, I didn't want you to leave.'

'But I promised you I wouldn't go!'

Leah shoved back her chair and stood. Struggling to conceal her distress, she made a production of pouring herself another cup of coffee. She'd told Rose about her meeting for one simple reason: she couldn't leave the woman who'd loved and raised her without a single word of farewell. What she hadn't anticipated was her grandmother's revelation that Leah's father was dying of cancer. Once in possession of the grim news she hadn't had any alternative. She couldn't abandon her father in his time of need, no matter how desperately she yearned to be with Hunter. It just wasn't in her nature.

Leah turned and faced her grandmother. 'I told you I'd meet Hunter and explain about Dad's illness. I planned to ask him to wait... to return after... after...'

Rose shrugged. 'Perhaps he'd have agreed. But I couldn't count on that—on his going away and letting you stay.' She sighed. 'Listen, girl, the reason I'm telling you all this is because I've decided. I want you to marry Hunter.'

Leah stared in shock. 'Come again?'

'What are you, deaf? I said, I want you to marry Hunter.'

'But... why?'

'Because...' Rose lifted her chin and confessed. 'Because I had a call from Conrad Michaels this morning.'

'What did he want?'

'Officially.. .to announce his retirement. Unofficially. . .to withdraw his offer of help. No bank loan in any circumstances was the message I got.'

'Hunter!' Leah released his name with a soft sigh.

'That thought occurred to me, too.' Her grandmother's eyes narrowed. 'You suppose his pull is strong enough to force Connie's retirement?'

'Possibly. Though if Hunter is as ruthless as you suspect, I'm surprised you're so anxious to marry me off to him.'

'Ruthless isn't bad.. .if it's working on your side. And, right now, we could use a whole lot of ruthless on our side.'

'Could we?' Leah questioned. 'I'm not so sure.'

Rose stared into her coffee-cup as though the answers to all their problems lay written in the dregs. Finally she glanced up, her expression as hard and set as Leah had ever seen it. 'You have two choices. You can sell or you can fight to win against Lyon Enterprises. If you want to sell, say the word, and we'll give up and clear out. But if you want to win, Hunter's the man for the job. It took you years to get over him. Fact is, I don't believe you ever did. Marry him or don't. It's your decision. But my vote is to snatch him up fast. Men like that only come along once in a lifetime. You've gotten a lucky break. He's come through your door twice.'

Lucky? Leah had her doubts. He'd loved her with a passion that she'd never forgotten and she'd let him down. He wouldn't give her the chance to hurt him like that again. She simply couldn't read too much into his return. If anything, he'd come back to wreak revenge. And, if that was the case, by placing that ad she had indeed exposed her vulnerability and given him the perfect opportunity to even an old score.

And he'd been swift to take advantage.

One by one he'd cut off every avenue of escape until she faced two tough alternatives. Unfortunately, learning that any possibility of a bank loan had been circum-

vented left her with no alternatives... if she intended to ^ave the ranch.

Leah returned her mug to the counter, the coffee having gone stone-cold. She looked at her grandmother and saw the hint of desperation lurking in Rose's otherwise impassive expression. No matter what she'd said, losing the ranch would be the death of her. And to be responsible for her demise, when Leah had it within her power to prevent it, just couldn't be borne.

Til call Hunter,' she announced quietly.

For the first time in her life, Leah saw tears glitter in her grandmother's eyes. "Don't accept his first offer, girl,' she advised gruffly. 'Bargain for position and you can still come out of this on top.'

'I'm not your granddaughter for nothing,' Leah said with a teasing smile. 'He won't have it all his own way.'

And he wouldn't. Very soon she'd find out just how badly he wanted the ranch—and just how much ground he'd give up in order to get it.

Not until Leah had completed her list of requests for Hunter—she hesitated to call them demands—did she realize that he hadn't left her a number where he could be reached. Not that it truly presented a problem. Precisely twenty-four hours after their original meeting, Hunter phoned.

'What's your answer?' he asked, dispensing with the preliminaries.

'I want to meet with you and discuss the situation,' Leah temporized.

'You mean discuss terms of surrender?'

'Yes.' She practically choked getting the word out. He must have known, darn him, for a low, intimate laugh sounded in her ear.

'You did that very well/ he approved. 'See? Giving in isn't so bad/

'Yes, it is,' she assured him. 'You try it some time and you'll know what I mean/

'No, you handle it much better than I would. All you need is a little more practice/

Married to him, she didn't doubt she'd get it, either. 'Where are you staying?' she asked, deliberately changing the subject. She knew when to give up on a losing hand. 'Should I meet you there?'

'I'm in Houston. And no, I don't expect you to drive that far. We'll meet tomorrow. Noon. The line-shack/

She caught her breath in disbelief. 'That's not funny, Hunter!'

'It wasn't meant to be.' All trace of amusement vanished from his voice, his tone acquiring a sharp, cutting edge. 'I'm dead serious. Tomorrow meet me at the line-shack at noon. Just like before. See that you make it this time. There won't be any second chances/

'There weren't eight years ago. Why should this occasion be any different?'

'It will be different,' he promised. 'You'd be smart to realize that right from the start/

'Fine. You've made your point and I realize it. Things will be different/

'Very good, Leah. There's hope for you yet/

She clamped down on her temper, determined not to be provoked. 'So, let's meet at the ranch-house instead. Okay? Hunter?' But she spoke into a dead phone. So much for not being provoked. She was thoroughly provoked.

Slowly she hung up. This did not bode well for their future together. Not well at all. She reached for her list. She wouldn't have that disaster at the line-shack held over her head like the sword of Damocles for the rest

of her life. She'd done all the explaining she intended to do, but apparently he had more to say. Well, this meeting would end it once and for all. She wouldn't spend the rest of her life paying for something that, though her ultimate responsibility, wasn't her fault.

Early the next morning she headed for the south pasture to pay a visit to Dreamseeker, the stallion she'd recently acquired. At the fence she whistled, low and piercing, waiting for the familiar whickered response. From the concealing stand of cottonwoods he came, a coal-black stallion, racing across the grass. He danced to a stop ten yards from the fence, pawing at the ground and shaking his mane.

'You don't fool me,' she called to him. 'You want it. I know you do. All you have to do is come and take it.' She held out her hand so he could see the lumps of sugar she'd brought him.