Worth The Price (Hart's Fall, Montana) (5 page)

His eyes bore into hers. “You got yourself a place?”

The hard glint in his eyes dared her to lie to him again. “No. I’ve been staying with a friend from childhood. She was kind enough to let me crash there for a while. That is what friends are for, right?”

The grim expression on his face remained. “Maybe.”

A thought struck her. Danika eyed him in puzzlement. Did Brandon have any friends? Each and every time she had seen him around town he was always alone. More important, never with a woman by his side.

He looked her up and down. “How long do you plan on staying there?”

“I don’t know.” She was still unsure if their marriage ceremony would take place. “I suppose I should start apartment hunting soon.”

In typical Brandon fashion, he cut right to the chase, his tone low and firm. “Do you still want the money?”

Her stomach cramped. For a moment she almost wished she hadn’t gone to him and asked for the loan. Not because she didn’t need it. God knows they were in desperate financial straits, but…it didn’t sit well with her to know Brandon assumed the money was the extent of her interest in him.

“I need it.” Danika inhaled and asked the question, which had been plaguing her for days. “Do you still want me to be your wife?”

His eyes held hers for a minute longer than she was comfortable with. “I want it,
Cailín.
”

Danika blushed at his use of the term for the second time. “What does that mean?”
Please let it be something special
.

Looking away, he scratched the back of his neck. “It’s a silly word. I won’t use it again and you probably won’t like what it means.”

Butterflies fluttered inside her stomach and her pulsed skipped with excitement. Now she really needed to know. “Please tell me.”

“It means girl.” His eyes roamed over her frame as if he wanted to assure her she was all woman.

Her lips spread into a satisfied grin. She studied the rough yet adorably shy man who would soon become her husband. The man she would eventually share a bed with and so much more.

Wishing to remove the anxiety from his face, Danika teased, “You think I’m a girl, Brandon?” His lids lowered and immediately the laughter that had been hovering at the back her throat, was replaced by a warm tingle pulsing between her thighs. She didn’t need to track his gaze to know Brandon’s eyes were perusing, possibly evaluating, her entire frame.

“I don’t. Would be kind of hard to see you as a girl.”

Danika smiled. “I was messing with you.”

He nodded although she had the feeling he wasn’t used to being joked or played with. Danika glanced up at him. She wanted to touch his face but common sense told her he would yank her hand away from his body. Yearning for the simple contact, she tentatively reached out and slid her fingers against his. “I’m going to be a good wife, Brandon. Just wait and see.”

The rigid planes on his features softened. She noticed for the first time that when Brandon relaxed, the menacing scar took a lengthy backseat to the way his pale eyes stood out like a beacon against his dark Celtic features. He coughed into his fist “I don’t know much about being a husband, but you won’t ever have to be afraid of me from here on out. I’m not going to hurt you. I know my face looks like something carved from the butcher’s board, so I won’t take offense if you need your own space for a while. I won’t rush you into anything you’re not ready for.”

“You ah, noticed that?” Guilt knotted inside her chest. She was no better than some of the people who viewed him as a pariah. Worst of all, Brandon knew it too.

“It was hard not to. I thought if you fell from those wobbly knees inside my living room, you’d probably blackout if I tried to help you up.”

Her mouth opened on an incredulous gasp. Danika grinned. Brandon was actually teasing her. “FYI. I’m no longer afraid of you.”

“No?”

“No,” she repeated. “I never was truly terrified or anything, at least not that you would hurt me.” She pinned him with a bold stare. “Not even that day you caught me watching you outside the feedlot store.”

His eyes flickered and darkened with the memory, which prompted her to add, “Also, it’s not a good look for a wife to be afraid of her own husband, especially when half the town already—” She clamped her mouth shut before finishing the sentence. She had done it again and fired off without thinking.

“Avoid looking at me. Don’t want me here?”

Danika pursed her lips in chagrin. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t think they mean any harm. It’s only because most of the folks here still don’t really know you.”

“You don’t know much about me either. There’s no difference.”

No difference?

The statement left her unsettled. She didn’t want Brandon to see her like everyone else.
She
was different. She cared about him, unlike everyone else.

“There’s a lot we’ll have to learn about each other, isn’t there?”

His broad shoulder lifted. “I suppose. Not much to tell, though.”

Her lips twitched as she found herself growing more comfortable around him by the second. “I doubt that. What about all those little children you ate for breakfast?”

“That’s the rumor these days?”

“Something to that effect. Or it could have been waffles. I forget.”

A slow grin skated across his face and Danika felt her heartbeat race to a frenzied rhythm. A real smile from Brandon. Dear Lord. She hoped it was only the beginning of many more.

All too soon, the smile vanished. His features contorted in a look of utter determination and she found herself locked in a hungry gaze that centered on her lips.

“You belong on the ranch with me. I don’t want you sleeping at your friend’s house and me worrying each day whether you’re safe or not.”

Danika blinked. Her womb clenched at the husky edge his voice had taken on. Her eyes fluttered open as she slowly allowed his words to sink in. Brandon cared about her. She wasn’t even sure if he realized the impact of what he’d just stated. She sank a tooth into her lip. Suddenly, she wanted it too. She wanted to be on the ranch with him each day and night. She yearned for this new life to begin with Brandon as her husband. They might not be in love, but this moment right here, signified that she might not be another problem for Brandon. She could actually be good for him and Danika knew with every fiber of her being, she wanted to get to the heart of this man and in time, deliciously unfold all the layers that made him Brandon Sharpe.

“I’ll move in with you after we’re married.”

His shoulders relaxed. “The ceremony will have to be in the courthouse, for now. It’s not fancy. If it bothers you, later on we can do something bigger. I know women—”

“The courthouse is fine, Brandon. It’s what we do within the marriage that counts, not where the vows are exchanged.”

“Yeah. You’re right about that.”

Danika moved closer to him, emboldened by the turn of conversation. “When?” The toe-point of her flats brushed the front of his dust-smattered boots. “I need a date from you, Irish.”

His glance lowered to their touching feet. “Tell me where you’re staying and I’ll pick you up on Monday. We can get the license.” Then out of nowhere or maybe one of her dreams, his callused hand lifted to stroke along her cheek. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?”

Yes. More than ever
. “I’m sure. I want to be your wife.”

“You want.” She heard him whisper the words to himself, before the back of his forefinger grazed the corner of her lips in a gossamer touch that made her heart ache and left her untried body purring for a decadent taste of the unknown.

Brandon tried hard not to stare at her. It was a lesson in failure, especially when her lush lips widened into those plentiful and tempting smiles. Looking at her only made his dislike for Prescott increase tenfold. After her father had finally ’fessed up that he’d ordered Danika to leave and had no idea where she was, Brandon felt as if he was on the verge of losing his mind. Prescott must have wanted him to suffer a meltdown, because the man’s next statement, insisting the only way he would welcome her back inside his home was if she called off the engagement, did nothing to help soothe the worry eating away at back of his mind. What if Danika was hurt, cold, and alone outside?

And now that he was face to face with her again, Brandon wasn’t convinced by the brightness of her smile and façade of happiness. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes and tell tale splotches of redness around her irises. It was his fault. All of it. Guilt sharper than the blade on his pocketknife stabbed into him. If he were any sort of decent person he would have loaned her the money without the marriage stipulation.

“Are you headed back to the ranch?”

Brandon nodded and fiddled with the brim of his Stetson. “I need to get started on getting the corral ready before the fall auctions begin.”

“Do you need any help?”

His head shot up in surprise.

“What?” she asked. “You don’t think I know anything about ranching?”

He lifted a shoulder. He couldn’t imagine Danika with her hands dirtied from horse and cattle dung or her mass of thick ebony curls, strewed with hay. “I know you grew up around here. I never thought you spent much time on the ranches though. It’s not easy work.”

She placed a hand on her slender hip and squinted her eyes at him. “You think I’m spoiled don’t you? I’m a social worker, Brandon. I don’t do heavy lifting or spend hours working in the sun or out in the snow. My work is as much emotionally tiring as it is rewarding. Definitely not easy.”

He knew spoiled women and Danika did not fit the bill. If she were, she would have hightailed it out of Hart’s Fall, leaving Prescott to handle his own problems.

“Did I ever say you were spoiled?” He advanced forward, closing in on her. Brandon noticed the way her eyes became round as saucers and the subtle parting of her lips. In fear? He hoped not. Common sense warned him to back off. Brandon ignored it. He needed to be certain that she truly wasn’t afraid of him.

“You never said it, but…” Her voice trailed.

“Because the connection with my brain to my mouth is off, it came across like that right?”

She nodded, her lovely face looking softer and more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her. “I know you’re not a spoiled person,” Brandon said in the most comforting tone he could call on. “Of all the ways I’ve thought about you, spoiled never entered my mind.”

“You’ve thought about me before?”

His jaw tautened. Oh yes, he’d thought about her. Even beyond the day Prescott humiliated and taunted him in the center of town with more than a dozen witnesses. Brandon closed his eyes, locking out the spiteful sound of Prescott’s voice.

“Those hands of yours may not be as hideous as that mug you call a face Sharpe, but ain’t no way in hell they’re getting anywhere near my girl. Aim lower boy-o, much, much lower.”

Prescott had drawn a riotous bout of laughter from the small crowd that had gathered. When Brandon had found the courage to meet the gazes of those watching they’d quickly looked away, eyes filled with embarrassment for him. If he hadn’t loathed Prescott before, that single encounter had sealed the deal. And yet, it wasn’t enough to prevent him from thinking about the girl, who, in an innocent way, had brought about his humiliation.

Looking away, Brandon searched his mind for the right thing to say. If he chose honesty, he would tell her he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head since the day he’d seen her with her back pressed against the wall of the feedlot store. If he told her he’d become entranced by her lithe shape and enchanting dark eyes, riled with defiance, Brandon was afraid her attitude toward him would shift to that of being weirded out by a man who had noticed too much about her.

Danika let out an exaggerated sigh and shook her head with a coy smile. “Okay, Irish. I can tell I’m not going to get anything out of you on that topic. I think I’ll just let my imagination run wild then.”

Brandon was caught halfway between a grimace and the urge to smile. “I’m not gonna give up,” she continued. “One way or another, I
will
get you talking.” Before he had the chance to anticipate her movement, she lifted a hand to his face. “Will I ever see you without this beard?”

He stiffened at her touch. His jaw tensed, this time sensing her next move. Grasping a hold of her wrist, Brandon grated, “Don’t do it.”

“Would it hurt if I placed my hand on it?”

Not physically. After so many years, the wound was nothing more than a hash of bunched, deadened nerves and rough puckered skin that should never be seen in the light of day. It was a wonder Danika had the stomach to place her gentle hands so close to it.

Her hands fell to her sides, affording Brandon the time to make a quick escape before she had another chance to lure him into letting his guard down. He mumbled an excuse, pulled away from her and powered down the sidewalk, desperate to put some distance between them.

Worth the Price