Marriage at the Cowboy's Command (8 page)

“Of course I remember! Who could forget such a thing?”

“Any rich boyfriends like Wakefield waiting in the wings to save you this time?” There was an odd predatory glint in his eyes.

“Don't joke about something like that.”

His expression hardened. He didn't look like he was joking. “So, you're not dating anyone seriously?” he asked in a lower tone.

A little gasp escaped her throat. “That is none of your business!”

“Well, are you?”

“No!” she snapped before she had time to think of a clever lie. “And the only reason I'd ever marry again is for love!”

“I wonder—were your motivations equally noble when you married Wakefield?”

She almost choked. “Of course they were!” she sputtered indignantly. “I loved Robert! We grew up together!”

“How reassuring. But if you did marry for money, there's no shame in it. How do you think the aristocratic families in England have kept their estates intact for hundreds of years?”

“How would I know?”

“All too often, marrying well is the only practical thing to do.”

Was that why he considered his countess so perfect? Or maybe that was why the countess considered
him
so perfect.

Caitlyn wasn't about to admit she'd learned her lesson about marrying for the wrong reasons, so she bit her tongue and gloomily watched him stroke Lilly with his long, tanned fingers.

“I don't care about aristocratic families in your precious England,” she said.

“Well, if you don't like the idea of marrying for money, maybe you could take in a rich partner.”

“Someone with a big ego like yours, who'd want to call all the shots?”

“Okay. You could syndicate some of your mares.”

“That would mean even more male egos to deal with.”

“You could lease Wild Horse Ranch and work here on a salary.”

“And lose all control? No! I don't like any of your so-called solutions.”

“I could hire Al Johnson to run the place for a while. He could make the brutal cuts that are necessary, get things running smoothly and then teach you how—”

“No! I was afraid of that.?…”

“Look, you can't keep doing what you're doing. Why don't you sleep on these ideas, and we'll talk again tomorrow morning. There's nothing like a good night's sleep to make one more amenable to practicalities.”

“I'm not changing my mind.”

“All right, sweetheart, if you're sure—I do have another solution.”

“What?”

“Since you've been so negative about all my other suggestions, I think I'll keep it to myself for now.”

“It's my life and my ranch you're playing God with. Just tell me!”

“When I'm ready. Remember, you played God with my son for five years.”

She heaved in a breath. His response infuriated her, but he did have a point about Daniel. Then something hot and dark flashed in his eyes, causing her to shiver.

“What?” she whispered.

His gaze fell to her lips and then lower, raking over her figure in the skin-tight jeans that she'd worn just to provoke him.

Heat consumed her. Her skin felt raw. Hating the wild flare of her rampaging emotions, she wished she'd worn something baggy. She was a fool to have dressed to entice him, when his glance left her breathless and made her sizzle.

“Sorry to upset you,” he said dryly. “That's not my intention.”

“I wish I could believe you.” She frowned at him. “I don't like waiting,” she whispered. “That's all.”

His hungry gaze slid over her a second time. “What could possibly be more enjoyable than…anticipation?”

“Lots of things…when it comes to dealing with you.”

He laughed.

Suddenly, because of his nearness, she was restless.

When she stamped her boot, his laughter deepened into something bolder. “Enjoy,” he whispered in a low, seductive voice before turning and leading her big darlings to their stalls.

Knotting her hands around her crutches, she watched him disappear with her horses into the shadowy barn.

Being in Luke's power was unendurable. How could he force her to consider all those unpleasant business options while keeping her in the dark about his true intentions? She had no doubt that his final solution would be worse than anything he'd mentioned so far. Otherwise he would simply tell her. If he was any other man, she'd think he was afraid.

She wanted to call him a coward. She wanted to kick him. But as long as he had financial control over Wild Horse Ranch, she had to restrain herself and put up with him.

A
red sun stained the twisting branches of the live oaks as Luke and Daniel stirred the coals of their fire. Caitlyn stood apart from them, feeling increasingly uneasy as she watched the blaze.

The copse had once been his private refuge, but after she'd followed him here, it had become their special meeting place. He'd even carved their names in the center of a heart on a tree trunk.

She didn't like it one bit that he'd picked this particular oak motte for their supper tonight. It stirred way too many unwanted memories.

Earlier she'd pleaded with him. “Why can't we just eat a quick meal in the house?”

“Because a picnic in the oak motte would be much more fun.”

“Not for me. Besides, you're not here for fun. You're here to solve my problems. And then leave.”

His quick, knowing glance had reminded her that she had no clue as to his true intentions.

“I meant more fun for Daniel,” he'd said as he'd thrown hamburger buns, bananas, marshmallows and a pair of rusty tongs into a bag.

“Yes! I want to go, Mom!”

When Daniel had smiled at her, there had been no way for her to argue further.

And Daniel was having the time of his life. Luke had let him build the fire. Now, as he stirred the flames a bit too aggressively with a long stick, he sent brilliant sparks popping into the dry leaves.

“Why can't we cook the marshmallows now?” he demanded, as more sparks flew.

Luke jumped over the ring of rocks surrounding the fire and stamped on the burning leaves with his boots. “After supper,” Luke replied for the third time without the slightest trace of annoyance.

In spite of her misgivings, Caitlyn smiled. Luke, who'd waited at the bus stop for Daniel to return from school, was extremely patient and attentive with the boy in a way that Robert never had been. Daniel's noise, constant demands and clutter had driven Robert crazy, especially after he'd become ill.

“Mom never likes me to come here,” Daniel said.

“As if that's ever stopped you,” Caitlyn said. “This copse is your favorite hiding place, isn't it?”

“Because I know you won't follow me here.”

For her, the shady grove was haunted by her memories. Here, Luke had imprisoned her against a tree trunk with his hands and kissed her until her toes had curled.

“It used to be my favorite place on the ranch, too,” Luke said, his gleaming eyes meeting hers in a
challenge. “Some of my fondest memories happened in this oak motte.” He stared at Caitlyn. “I even carved my name on a tree to stake my claim on something precious that once belonged to me.”

She gasped. “That tree was cut down a long time ago!”

“You've been here before, Luke?” Daniel whispered.

“I used to work for your grandfather,” he said, releasing her from his gaze to look at Daniel.

“For Paw Paw? You did? Wow! When was that?”

“A long, long time ago.”

“How come Mom didn't tell me? Mom?”

When Luke's sardonic gaze flew to hers along with Daniel's searching one, her heart skittered wildly. “You'd have to ask her,” he said.

“Mom just told me you were a rich guy who buys horses.”

“Well, she was right…as far as it goes. But your mom and I, we're old friends.”

“Not anymore,” she inserted quickly. “That was another lifetime.”

Strange, but suddenly it felt like yesterday. The past seemed all too vivid beneath the sheltering shade of these familiar trees.

“But once—we were very good friends,” Luke insisted. “The best friends ever.”

When she shot him a warning glance, Daniel looked from her to Luke in confusion.

“Are y'all keeping a secret or something?”

Her heart thudded violently.

“We were friends—before she married your father,” Luke added.

“But I didn't know Luke was coming here yesterday,” she blurted out. “He just showed up out of the blue.”

“Well, I'm glad he did. And I'm glad he's going to help us,” Daniel said, looking both innocent and pleased. “'Cause now you won't have anything to worry about anymore. Luke's great at just about everything, isn't he, Mom?”

If only she were still as innocent as her son and could believe in Luke's inherent goodness. Once, she'd seen Luke as her very own hero cowboy, riding in to save the day. She hadn't believed him capable of the low things her mother had warned her about and later accused him of.

“He's Bubba's son,” her mother had said. “Oh, he's handsome, I'll give you that, girl. But he can't be faithful, and he'll prove what he is soon enough.”

Caitlyn, who'd felt the sting of his betrayal on all levels and knew the pain of innocence lost, felt increasingly threatened by him, both personally and financially.

How would he use his power over her and her son?

 

It didn't matter that Caitlyn knew what Luke was capable of. Her sexy house guest had her thinking about him day and night.

Luke, with his silky black hair. Luke, with his powerful shoulders and lean body. Luke, with the devil's own grin.

Last night had been particularly sleepless. Thus, on the third morning of his stay, as she watched his tanned hand stab a thick slab of ham in the too-intimate confines of her tiny kitchen, she felt too near her breaking point. Slamming her coffee cup down on the table, she leaned toward him.

When he tensed and jumped back from his eggs,
she smiled triumphantly. Maybe she wasn't the only one on edge.

For the last two nights she'd barely slept. Not that she'd stripped off her nightgown again or touched herself—even though she'd wanted to. No, instead, she'd lain awake for hours, listening to every creak of the house, thinking about Luke lying in his bed down the hall. She'd ached for him.

“You've been here two full days.”

“Don't forget the nights,” he murmured in a low tone.

At the mention of those nights, which she'd deliberately avoided saying anything about, warm color crawled up her neck.

“I want to get this over with! So what's your mysterious solution to my problem?” she demanded. “What is it? You have to tell me!”

He set his fork on his plate with a clatter and stood up. “Do I, now?”

Was he as nervous around her as she was around him? Did he feel ensnared by the sensual tension that had her emotions so tangled? She might think he was simply afraid to answer her question, but she knew Luke wasn't afraid of anything.

After placing his dishes in the sink, his lean, broad-shouldered back was to her. He called down the hall to remind Daniel it was time for them to wait for the school bus.

Refusing to be ignored in such a high-handed manner in her own home, she shot out of her chair, only to wince when her ankle touched the floor. Blinking back tears and taking a quick breath to clear the pain, she carefully hobbled to the sink. Leaning on one crutch, she said, “Surely you have things to do in London.”

“Many things.”

“Teresa being one of them?”

He turned. The lean, bronzed face that had haunted her dreams was taut with mockery. “For someone who claims she is utterly indifferent, you do take an inordinate interest in my love life. I can't help but wonder why.”

That he saw through her so easily galled. “Why can't you just cut to the chase, so we can get this over with and go on with our lives?” she snapped.

“Since I know about Daniel, ‘going on with our lives' is not possible any longer.” He stared down at her, studying her too intently through his long, sooty lashes. “Is that what you really want—me gone and out of your life?”

“Of course. But I can't help but wonder what my life here will be like if you change the way the ranch is run. I heard you talking to Al Johnson again yesterday. Why did you call him? Is he coming here? In what capacity? Why? What are you planning? The suspense is killing me.”

“I can see that, and I'm sorry.”

“Tell me what you plan to do.”

“All in good time,” he repeated. “Much as I enjoy your company and the possibility of a spirited argument, we don't want Daniel to be late to school, do we?”

Mutely, she shook her head. Without another word on the subject, he turned and stomped down the hall to hurry their son along—a necessary chore, since Daniel was so easily distracted. He was probably playing with an action figure instead of putting on his shoes at this very moment.

Still, she wanted to run or, rather, hobble after Luke and badger him into telling her. But she knew him well enough to realize she would humiliate herself to no
purpose. No doubt her curiosity amused him. The wiser course was to wait him out. Otherwise, he'd simply dig in his heels and put off telling her for even longer.

Thus, several more days passed without him referring to the matter at hand and with her biting her tongue to keep from drilling him. Even after she threw away her crutches and was able to resume her full routine, never once did he allude to his mysterious solution other than to ask if she'd reconsidered any of his other options.

When she'd said no, he'd seemed almost content to settle down to ranch life. When he wasn't making international calls or working on his laptop, he made himself useful by helping with Daniel and assisting Manuel with the heavier work. He didn't complain, either.

But with the passing of more days and nights—interminable, sleepless nights—she felt the raw, too-intimate, highly charged sensual cravings between them build.

Last night when he'd come out of the hall bathroom, shirtless, he'd nearly bumped into her. She'd caught her breath and barely managed the willpower to skitter down the hall into her own room and bolt the door.

This morning when she'd caught a glimpse of him through the cracked bathroom door as he'd shaved, his dark head cocked to one side and his white shirt unbuttoned, the mere sight of so much tanned muscle had sent tingles through every nerve in her body. She'd known the sensual joy of his body. The man lured her, as only the drug of choice can lure an addict who knows its pleasure full well and has been forced to do without for too long.

That evening after supper, she was grumpy as she
faced still another sleepless night brooding over a man she did not
want
to want. He'd had another conversation with Al Johnson without telling her what they'd talked about. She wanted to know what he was up to, but some crisis had erupted in London. For more than an hour, he'd been holed up in her dining room behind closed doors, engaged in a tense overseas conference call with several of his top London executives.

She didn't want to eavesdrop, but his deep, hard voice carried. Apparently, the employees at Kommstarr, his most recently acquired company, didn't like the massive changes he was instigating. Never had he sounded more ruthless than he did when he insisted his executives slash jobs and budgets and make lists of assets to be sold.

These were people's lives he was dealing with! She couldn't help but wonder what chance her horse farm had. Would he coldly demand that she sell her darlings? After all, they were mere horses.

He had to think his solution would upset her, or he'd tell her what it was. How could she lie awake longing for such a tough, arrogant brute? Maybe she was better off not knowing what he intended for Wild Horse Ranch.

She had to tune out his impending decision or she would go crazy dwelling on all the scenarios she could dream up. Summoning her willpower, she marched to Daniel's room, thinking she'd read her son a chapter of
Harry Potter,
only to find her precious darling curled up on his bed, with his blanket pulled up to his chin. She didn't like the way his green eyes burned in his thin, flushed face.

“Mommy, I'm c-cold,” he said through teeth that chattered.

“Honey! What's the matter?” When she leaned down
and felt him, his forehead was hot. “We'd better take your temperature,” she said before rushing to the bathroom to find the thermometer.

Luke was closing his phone and stepping out of the dining room when she dashed back into Daniel's room with the thermometer.

“What's wrong?”

“I think Daniel's got a fever.”

Luke stood over her as she took Daniel's temperature.

“He's got a fever. I'll give him a cool bath and some medicine,” she said. “If he's not better in the morning, we'll call Dr. Williams.”

After bathing him, she gave Daniel a hug and put him to bed early with a great many toys to comfort him. Later, as she lay awake in her bed, her thoughts were on Daniel rather than on Luke's mysterious solution. Still, she was aware of Luke getting up during the night to check on Daniel.

Around midnight, when she hadn't heard Luke in a while, she decided to check on Daniel herself. But when she tiptoed to his room, Daniel's door opened and Luke stepped out into the hall wearing only his black pajama bottoms.

As soon as she saw him, the hair on her nape pricked with sensual awareness. “How is he?” she whispered, pulling the edges of her thin robe together with shaking fingertips.

“His fever broke. He's fine—now.”

“Is he?” She attempted to make her voice casual as she slipped past him and went inside to make sure. Their bodies brushed, and the heat of his skin set off jitters at all her pleasure points.

After sliding her palm across her son's cool forehead, she adjusted his blankets and his favorite stuffed ani
mals. Immensely reassured that he would probably be perfectly well by morning, she came back out into the hall, clutching a stuffed brown bear, only to start when Luke called her name from the dark.

She turned. He stood beside their son's open door, his feet planted wide apart.

Their gazes met. At the sight of all that muscle and the black hair on his wide chest, she clenched the bear protectively to her breasts.