Читать книгу The Wilde Bunch - Barbara Boswell, Barbara Boswell - Страница 5

Kara gaped at him, stunned into speechlessness. Mac’s words seemed to hover tangibly in the air between them. Once again, she felt the heat of intensified color turn her cheeks a scalding pink.

“If—if this is your idea of a joke, I don’t appreciate it.” Kara finally found her voice. She wished she sounded less anxious and more sternly forceful. She had never felt so off-balance in her careful quiet life. “Uncle Will bought my plane ticket and he—”

“No, he didn’t. I paid for that ticket. If the Rev told you otherwise, he was—well, lying.” Mac shrugged at her shocked look of outrage. “Hey, the man is only human, after all. ‘Let he who is without sin’ and all that...”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that Uncle Will would invite me here, implying that he was paying for my ticket,” she emphasized the word, for Will hadn’t come right out and said that he’d bought it. “That he would be part of some plot to get me out here to m-marry you without ever mentioning you to me? That’s right, he never even mentioned your name, let alone this—this crazy notion you seem to have about—”

“It’s not the way I would’ve handled things myself,” Mac said, frowning his disapproval. “I thought the Rev would be up-front with you. After all, he was the one who came up with the idea in the first place.”

“He wouldn’t do such a thing!” Kara cried. “Not Uncle Will.”

“Listen, baby, Uncle Will dreamed up the whole thing. I didn’t even know you existed, until the Rev told me. He knew I was having trouble with the kids, and we both knew I needed a wife to help me with them. He suggested that you might be willing to come out here and marry me. When you accepted my ticket, I assumed you’d accepted the—uh—position.”

“Ohhh!” Kara covered her burning cheeks with her hands. “This can’t be true!”

“But you know it is.” Mac’s voice was firm.

“No!” Kara closed her eyes, fighting a crushing urge to burst into tears. “I came out here to visit my uncle—”

“He’s your stepfather,” Max said bluntly. “The Rev told me all about his marriage to your mother. I was surprised to hear it. I don’t think anybody in Bear Creek knows he was married before or has a grown stepdaughter.”

“Ex-stepdaughter,” Kara corrected tightly. “Ginny, his wife, made the ex very definite over the years. When I was still a little girl, she told me that I wasn’t allowed to call him Daddy anymore, that he had daughters of his own and I was not to think of myself as one of them.”

“Ouch.”

“Yes, it hurt. He told me to call him Uncle Will, instead. I did as he asked, but for a long time afterward I still thought of him as my dad. My real father died shortly after I was born, and Will was the only father I’d ever known.”

“So he placated his wife at your expense?”

“He had no choice,” Kara loyally defended her former stepfather. “A husband does what he has to do to make his wife happy.”

“Let me rephrase that for you—a wimp caves in and lets the woman have the upper hand,” Mac said scornfully. “And it’s always a big, big mistake.”

“One you’d never make, I’m sure,” Kara murmured, because she simply could not let his chauvinistic remark go unchallenged.

“That’s right,” Mac agreed proudly. It seemed he’d interpreted her challenge as a compliment. He shook his head, bemused. “None of this sounds like the Rev and Ginny I’ve known for the past fifteen years.”

“Uncle Will was heartbroken when my mother left him for another man. So was I.” Kara’s voice grew bleak, remembering that sad time. “Mom always claimed he married Ginny on the rebound and Ginny knew it. That’s why she resented Will’s relationship with me so much. I was a reminder that my mother, and not Ginny, was the great love of his life.”

“It’s hard to imagine the Rev in the role of romantic lead,” Mac said wryly. “And even harder to picture Ginny as a possessive shrew, nasty to little girls. She’s always been so helpful and upbeat.”

“I doubt that even the most helpful, upbeat woman likes to think of herself as second best when it comes to love. Women always found my mother a threat because she was—and still is—a very beautiful woman.”

Kara felt Mac’s eyes upon her, assessing her. Doubtlessly trying to imagine how a very beautiful woman had managed to produce such an ordinary daughter. It was not the first time she’d been confronted with that particular puzzle.

“Unfortunately, I look nothing like my mother. From the pictures I’ve seen, I take after my dad’s side,” she felt compelled to explain. “Average in every way.”

“There is nothing wrong with the way you look,” Mac said gruffly.

Kara shifted uncomfortably and turned her attention to her cat, kneading his fur with gentle fingers. She had never discussed herself or her past so frankly with any man, and she suspected she’d sounded downtrodden and filled with self-pity. Which she was not! She felt a surge of anger at Mac Wilde for putting her into this unholy predicament.

Mac reacted to her silence. “Are you waiting for me to counter with a feature-by-feature rave of your face and figure?” He heaved an impatient sigh. “Look, I’ve never been one of those touchy-feely types who ooze syrupy compliments and pour on the charm. And I—”

“Obviously not,” Kara cut in tartly. “You seem extremely practical with no time or patience for anything dealing with emotion or sentiment. I guess that falls into the dreaded touchy-feely department? Well, has it occurred to you that there might be a direct correlation between your hardheadedness and your need to—to attempt to buy a wife?” She had never been so caustic or outspoken in her life, but somehow Mac brought it out in her.

Mac arched his brows. “At the risk of sounding redundant—ouch!”

He lifted his hand from the wheel to run one long finger along the length of her arm, from her shoulder to her fingertips. “The lady has claws, hmm? Just like her kitty.”

Kara shivered. Though well-protected under the heavy cotton of her sweater, her skin tingled along the path that he’d traced. “Don’t patronize me,” she growled.

“Whatever you say, sweetie.” He flashed a teasing grin.

A quivering spiral of tension coiled in her stomach. When he smiled like that, he was devastating. A fact he probably well knew, lectured a stern little voice in her head. Some cautious feminine instinct warned her that Mac Wilde was not averse to turning on the charm, should it serve his purpose.

Silence descended between them. Kara’s nerves felt stretched to the screaming point as she reviewed this decidedly bizarre situation. Mac Wilde had footed the bill for her journey and in return expected her to marry him and help him raise his four unruly nieces and nephews.

What a preposterous idea! Was he dreaming? Perhaps she’d fallen asleep on the plane and when she opened her eyes, the flight would be landing and Uncle Will would be waiting eagerly at the gate for her.

Mac, on the other hand, did not seem affected by any tension whatsoever. “This is one of my favorite songs,” he announced cheerfully. He turned up the volume and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the beat. “Merle Haggard. ‘That’s the Way Love Goes.’”

It did not go well, according to the lyrics. And Kara knew this absurd idea of his was just doomed to fail.

“I’ll repay you for the cost of my plane ticket, of course.” Kara gulped, wishing she could appear cool and controlled, but failing utterly. “I—I’m terribly sorry about the misunderstanding. This is all so embarrassing. No, it’s beyond embarrassing. It’s absolutely mortifying!”

“I don’t want to be reimbursed. I expect you to honor the terms of our agreement and marry me.”

“But we have no agreement!”

“I bought that ticket in good faith and assumed you’d accepted it and the terms offered in the same good faith.” Mac slid a glance at her.

He was surprised at how well he was able to read her already. She was confused and aghast, the better to fall for this legal spiel he was spinning. “Maybe you’re scamming me,” he accused. “Using my money for a free visit to Montana? Who can guess how much more cash you planned to wring out of me. Maybe the Rev is in cahoots with you. Find a sucker, promise him a—”

“How can you even think such a thing!” Kara cried, panic lacing her voice. “This is all just a—a terrible misunderstanding.”

“That’s what you said before. I’m not buying it, honey. I think you and the Rev tried to con me,” Mac said rather gleefully.

“We did no such thing!” Kara stared at him. That gleam in his dark eyes, that note of triumph in his voice suddenly alerted her to the possibility that Mac Wilde might be improvising. Masterfully. “You have no reason to suspect any conspiracy or wrongdoing. Or any proof, either,” she added succinctly.

“Don’t I? Then answer this question for me, Kara. If Ginny Franklin regards you as a thorn in her side, if she sees you as an unpleasant reminder of an era she is determined to forget, then why would she suddenly allow her husband to invite you to stay at their home and to pay for your ticket out here?”

Kara opened her mouth to speak, then abruptly closed it. She’d asked herself that same question when Uncle Will had first extended the invitation. But she had been so happy to be invited, she hadn’t probed any deeper. Had it been pure wishful thinking on her part, that she would at last be accepted into the Franklin family?

“You’ve never visited them out here before,” Mac went on. “The only times you’ve seen the Rev have been when he was traveling on church-related business, without Ginny and the girls. Am I correct?”

Kara gave a grudging nod.

“From the time you were a child, Ginny made it plain that she didn’t want you and your ex-stepfather to maintain your ties,” Mac continued. “The Rev told me himself that he wasn’t able to see you as much as you two would’ve liked. That was because of Ginny. Well, why should Ginny have a sudden change of heart at this late date? I happen to know that she’s not suffering from a terminal disease so she isn’t trying to set things right before she meets her Maker. The truth is, Ginny Franklin is not expecting you to stay at her house. If she even knows about your visit to Bear Creek, she’s been told that you will be with me at the Double R. As for that fantasy you concocted about the Rev buying your plane ticket—ha! Only over Ginny’s dead body.”

Kara swallowed hard. “You’re using the information I gave you against me.”

“All’s fair in love and war, baby.”

“Well, this isn’t either one. Stop this car!” Kara commanded impulsively. “I’m getting out.”

Mac laughed at that. “You plan to hitchhike back into Helena? With your luggage and that caterwauling cat?”

“Yes.”

He raised one dark brow. “Are you sure? The sun is going down and it gets pretty scary out here at night. Bears and cougars and wolves prowl along the highway. Your cat could end up being their appetizer while you serve as the main course.”

Kara tried to ignore the apprehensive chill that rippled through her. “You’re deliberately trying to scare me. I think I’m in greater danger from you than any animal predator out there. And if you don’t stop this car right now, I—I’ll jump out.”

Mac abruptly steered the Jeep off the highway, onto the wide shoulder of the road.

Kara trembled. It seemed he was about to grant her wish and let her out. A cold lump of fear settled in her stomach and expanded to fill her throat. How was she going to get back to Helena? This interstate was going in the wrong direction—she would have to hitch a ride or walk to the next exit and then make her way to the eastbound portion of the highway to hitch or walk back to the city. Tai emitted a miserable meow, and Kara stifled a sob of her own. What if there really were dangerous wild animals on the prowl out there?

“You’d better put the cat back in his carrier,” Mac advised.

Kara nodded dumbly. Tai did not go gracefully back into his hated carrier. She practically had to wrestle the cat into it, while he hissed and tried to claw her. Finally, after he was safely locked inside, Mac placed it on the back seat.

Kara reached for the door handle. “I’ll get my luggage out and take Tai last,” she said stiffly.

“That won’t be necessary.” Mac moved as swiftly as one of those animal predators he’d warned her about.

Before she realized what was happening, he’d outmaneuvered the armrests and the seat belts which restrained them, and took both her hands in his. Their knees touched, their faces were very close.

“What are you doing?” Kara’s voice rose to a squeak. She tried to snatch her hands away but his grip was too firm for her to break.

“I’ll tell you what I’m not doing. I’m not abandoning you and your cat on the highway. I would never expose you to that sort of danger, Kara.”

Kara’s heart was thundering in her chest. She was in danger right here in the Jeep! She tried frantically to recall the self-defense tips she’d heard in that lecture she had attended last year with some women from work. It had been given by a police officer who’d designed a program to teach women street smarts and safety.

Now Officer Murray’s number one piece of advice came back to her and roared in her ears. “Don’t get into a car with anyone you don’t know.” Well, she’d already blown that one. Officer Murray would be chagrined at her stupidity.

“Relax,” Mac said softly. “I can feel you trembling. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then let me go. Right now!” Was she supposed to plead for mercy or issue a command? Kara tried both, the plea followed by the order.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Kara.”

“Then why are you doing such a good job of scaring me? You let me think you’re dumping me out on the highway and then you g-grab me.”

“You demanded that I stop. You even threatened to jump out if I didn’t,” Mac reminded her. “I wasn’t about to call your bluff. Dealing with hysterical women has never been my strong suit,” he admitted wryly. “Just ask my ex-wife.”

She was immediately distracted. “You’ve been married?”

“Once. It lasted three years. We split up nearly nine years ago, so it falls into the realm of ancient history. Don’t look so shocked, Kara. Most men don’t reach the age of thirty-five without experiencing the unholy state of matrimony at least once.”

“Unholy state,” she repeated. “Since you feel that way, then why—”

“I already explained. There are four compelling reasons why.”

Tai chimed in with another commanding meow.

Mac rolled his eyes. “I led you to believe I was going to put you out of the car because I wanted that furball with claws back in his carrier so we could talk. I didn’t want him distracting you, and he’s easier to ignore in his cage.”

“Much to his outrage. Poor Tai.” Kara’s fear had already begun to dissipate, but the nervous excitement pulsing through her had heightened and intensified. She felt his thumb glide over the sensitive skin of her wrist, then move upward to stroke her palm. The small gesture was sensual and provocative and her whole body responded to it with a strong swift surge of desire.

“You agree that we do need to talk before we go any farther?”

She drew a sharp breath. “I—I agree,” she murmured, trying to regain her bearings. “I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience and expense you’ve had to—”

“Forget about that,” Mac ordered. “Let’s cut to the chase, Kara. I know this whole situation is a bit unorthodox. I mean, out West mail-order brides have gone the way of the Pony Express and the Wells Fargo Wagon, yet here we are....”

“Mail-order bride? Is that what I’m supposed to be?” She could not suppress the bubble of laughter welling up inside her.

“Yeah, I know. It sounds ridiculous. I laughed too, when the Rev first suggested it.” Mac smiled wryly. He sobered almost instantly, his dark eyes intense. “But I’ve come to believe it’s a damn good idea.” His eyes slid over her. “Now that I’ve met you, it seems like an even better one.”

“Oh, please!” Kara swept an agitated hand through her hair, tousling it. “It’s bad enough that you think I’m so desperate for a man that I would hightail it out to Montana to marry a stranger who paid for my fare. Don’t make things even worse by pretending to be attracted to me.”

“Who says I’m pretending?” His voice grew deeper. “I am attracted to you.”

“You’re playing some kind of role. Saying things you think I’d like to hear.” Kara swallowed hard. Depressingly enough, she realized that she liked hearing him say he found her attractive, even though she knew he couldn’t mean it.

She straightened her spine, holding her head high, as she steeled herself against his insidious virile charm. “You must think I’m downright pathetic if you expect me to believe that you could possibly—”

“Enough about me,” Mac cut in. “Let’s talk about you. I think you’re attracted to me, too, Kara. A little scared of me, maybe, but definitely attracted.” With one deft move, he slipped his hands to her waist, and gripping her, easily lifted her out of her seat and onto his lap. “So let’s work on eliminating the fear and heightening the attraction.”

Kara gasped a protest. “No, Mac!”

Mac grinned, settling her more deeply into his lap, his arms fastening around her like steel bands. “Let’s work on changing that into, ‘Oh, Mac!’”

He held her fast against the hard male planes of his body, making her fully aware of his muscular strength. And of something else. There was no mistaking the blatant arousal of his body. Kara’s stunned eyes locked with his intense, knowing ones.

“I told you I was attracted to you.” Mac lightly touched his mouth to hers.

“I—I’m not as gullible as you seem to think,” Kara whispered. It was difficult to talk and even harder to think. His lips were nibbling at hers, their breaths mingling. “I know I’m not the type to inspire instant lust—”

“You’re not?” Mac traced the shape of her mouth with the tip of his tongue, until she unconsciously parted her lips. “Well, I don’t see anyone else here but you, baby. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“Probably that you’ve been in a—a state of deprivation and that any woman would turn you on.” Kara squirmed on his lap and made a feeble effort to free herself. Her cheeks burned with shame. She was well aware of how very slight her attempts to escape from his lap actually were.

“Don’t underestimate yourself.” His voice was husky and hypnotizing. “You’re the one who inspired my case of instant lust. You, Kara.”

His warm hand closed over her breast. There was nothing alarming or demanding in his touch, no heavy-handed possession. He caressed her gently, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to touch her there, to learn the feminine shape of her body.

Kara’s breathing became deeper and heavier. He was seducing her and she knew it. Knew it, and was falling hard and fast. She’d never been exposed to an experienced man’s advances. Her dates had been with quiet young men as unsure and reserved as she was; passion had never been a remote possibility. In D.C., confident, good-looking, assertive men like Mac never gave her a second glance, let alone gazed at her with intense dark eyes while murmuring how sexy she was. Never had she been lifted onto a hard male lap while his mouth and hands aroused this hot, melting sensation that made her close her eyes and wriggle closer to him, helpless in the mounting throes of ardor.

Mac let his mouth wander to her cheeks, then along the curve of her jawline to her ear, where his teeth nipped sensuously on the lobe. “Your skin is so soft,” he marveled. “Beautiful and creamy soft.” He was nibbling on her neck now, and his hand made a bold foray under her sweater. “I want to see more. I want to taste you, feel you.”

With a slow, sure touch he slipped his hand inside her bra, his fingers gliding deeper into the cup to caress her already taut nipple.

“Mac, no!” Kara cried frantically, unnerved by the flooding warmth surging through her body. The sensual heat spread like wildfire through her veins, from wherever his lips and fingers touched her. The most secret intimate part of her felt unaccustomedly swollen and achy and embarrassingly wet.

“No?” Mac reluctantly removed his hand from beneath her sweater. “Am I going too fast for you, sweetie?”

She pressed her thighs together, trying to suppress the too-exciting pleasure he had evoked.

“W-Way too fast. After all, we just met.” Yet she couldn’t summon the willpower necessary to get off his lap and return to her own seat. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, making her achingly aware of his powerful muscular strength.

“True. But we’re not bound by any stupid traditional courtship rules.” Mac’s hands slid down her back to cup the roundness of her bottom, his fingers kneading the firm softness there as he lifted her still closer.

“That’s what’s so great about this whole deal, honey. We’re spared the getting-to-know-you games, the who’s-going-to-make-the-next-move strategies, the is-it-too-soon-for-sex conundrum, the commitment worries. We’re already beyond all that, even though we just met. We know what the outcome is—we’re going to be married. There is no purpose in holding back—or holding out.”

His voice was soft and warmly reassuring. As he talked, his hands grew bolder and more insistent. He caressed the backs of her thighs with long sweeping strokes, the tips of his fingers moving toward her inner thighs with leisurely smoothness. Instinctively, her legs parted, and he began to trace erotic circles, his fingers moving higher toward the place that burned and throbbed for him.

Kara’s pulse was racing wildly. The raw sexuality of his caresses blitzed her natural inhibition and reserve and common sense, the three hallmarks of her personality. She was reeling with pleasure, unable to control the shooting streaks of desire burning through her.

“Kiss me,” Mac growled huskily, but he didn’t wait for her to comply to his sensual command. He cupped her chin in his hand, angling her mouth to meet the hot hard slant of his.

There was nothing hesitant or tentative about the way his mouth took hers. His lips parted hers easily and his tongue penetrated the moist hollow of her mouth, as he moved to secure her more firmly against him. One hand fastened in her hair to hold her head, the other continued to glide over the curves of her body with slow enticing strokes.

The kiss deepened and grew longer, more intimate. She had never been kissed with such mastery, such fierce hunger. Dazed and dizzied, Kara had neither the control nor experience nor sophistication to hold back her response. She was throbbing everywhere, her whole body flushed and heated with the sensual fire Mac had kindled and set blazing.

Kara felt as if she were drowning in a wild, thrilling whirlpool of sensations. She moved restlessly, clinging to him and trying to get even closer. She was aching with an urgency and an emptiness she had never before experienced, a force which could not be ignored. Sensuality pumped through her body like a potent drug; she felt as high as Montana’s Big Sky.

And then suddenly, unexpectedly and most unwelcomely, the sharp ring of a telephone sounded, blasting through the sensuous cocoon enveloping them, with the force of a gunshot.

“Damn!” Mac muttered, lifting his mouth from hers. His hands stilled on her body. “This is the downside of car phones. Back in the good old days, you couldn’t be reached when you decided to do a little parking.”

The car phone rang again. The sound offended Tai who had momentarily ceased his meowing, and he voiced his protest with another screeching cry.

Kara whimpered softly as Mac set her away from him. Her body roiled in a turmoil of frustration and thwarted need. It was as if she had become instantly addicted to his touch and was now undergoing the physical deprivations of withdrawal.

“Yes, this really is Uncle Mac, Autumn,” Mac said into the phone. “No, I’m not some bad guy pretending to be him. It’s okay that you called me, Autumn. That’s why we have the car-phone number written down beside the phone, so you can get in touch if you need to.”

Mac’s voice filtered through Kara’s shell-shocked haze. As she began to slowly regain her composure, she noticed that Mac appeared to be quite collected. He seemed to have pulled himself together with remarkable haste. Embarrassingly remarkable haste.

While her mind was still awhirl, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone phrases, Mac was conversing with his young niece as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

Maybe it hadn’t, not for him.

The nasty possibility seemed too obvious to ignore. Maybe a heavy make-out session in his Jeep was strictly routine for him. While she had lost her head, made mindless and helpless under the potent spell of his sexual expertise, he had remained in complete control. He couldn’t have recovered himself so quickly and so completely if he’d been as far gone as she, Kara was certain of that.

“She what?” Mac’s voice rose to a shout. “Autumn, put Webb on the— He what? Oh, great!” The way he said it left no doubt that he considered the opposite to be true. “Just great!”

Kara dared to glance at him. He didn’t appear collected now; he was clearly agitated.

“Autumn, I’ll make a deal with you. If you and Clay sit quietly in front of the television set until I get back, I’ll order you whatever you want from the toy catalog. “Yeah, the Christmas Wish Book. One thing apiece. But remember, for the deal to be valid, you and Clay can’t fight and neither of you can move from in front of the TV.”

He replaced the receiver and restarted the engine, flooring the gas pedal. The Jeep roared back onto the highway in a burst of speed. Mac was scowling. There wasn’t a trace of the sexy, seductive lover evident in his grim expression.

Kara nervously twisted her fingers. She felt as if she were on an emotional merry-go-round—first up, then down, going round and round, giving her no time to adjust or maintain any sort of equilibrium.

The silence was getting to her. As long as it was quiet, she was free to reflect on her shockingly abandoned response to Mac. And that, of course, led to thoughts of his response to her. He’d been hungry and impassioned, but turned cool and controlled immediately, as if a switch had been thrown. The implications of that made Kara cringe.

“I guess...something’s going on at the ranch?” she ventured. “With the kids?” Talking to Mac was better than sitting here agonizing over their earlier hot scene.

“Something’s always going on with those kids,” Mac growled. “Autumn called to tell me that the sheriff picked Lily up in a bar just outside Bear Creek, a place called the Rustler. There’s a pool table and darts and a jukebox there. The patrons are hardworking, hard-drinking cowboys who don’t mind a good fight when things get dull.”

“And women aren’t welcome there?”

“Oh, there are women who go to the Rustler. But they’re either good ol’ gals or women who are not looking—” He paused and cleared his throat.

“For a committed relationship?” Kara asked tactfully.

A slight smile creased Mac’s face. “Something like that. It is definitely not a place for seventeen-year-old schoolgirls,” he added, his expression turning dour. “My ranch manager drove over there to bring Lily home. That means Autumn and Clay are alone again.”

“Thus, your bribe.”

“You don’t approve of bribing kids?” Mac demanded testily.

“Well, I—”

“I can’t risk trying out any fancy child-rearing theories from this distance. I have to rely on what works. And promising toys and candy is the most successful ploy I’ve got. It’s also the only one,” he added glumly.

“If you bribe the two little ones with toys and candy, what do you use to bribe the older kids?” Kara asked.

“Nothing. You can’t buy them. Brick and Lily do as they please.” Mac heaved a groan. “Sometimes I think it’s too late, that they’re already destined to be future career-criminals. I mean, the kids have always been brats. Their parents considered themselves free spirits, who ‘didn’t believe in restraining kids’ natural curiosity and exuberance with rules and restrictions.’ That’s a direct quote from my sister-in-law, Linda. I heard her say it so often, it’s emblazoned on my brain. And my brother bought into that, though we certainly weren’t raised with the complete freedom Reid and Linda were determined to give their kids.”

“It seems to me that children want some limits,” Kara murmured. “Complete freedom would be terrifying. There should be certain boundaries to make kids feel secure.”

“I agree with you completely.” Mac smiled, his relief evident. He reached over to lay his hand on her knee. “We’re going to be a good team, I can tell. Have I thanked you for coming out here, Kara? I am so grateful that you’re willing to—”

“I don’t want your gratitude,” Kara interrupted quickly. “I haven’t agreed to anything, yet.” She deliberately crossed her legs in an attempt to dislodge his hand. He took the hint and removed it.

His words stung her. His gratitude seared even more deeply. He was grateful she was here to rescue him from the solitary burden of dealing with his nieces and nephews. He was so grateful to her that he was willing to pretend an attraction to her, to kiss her and arouse her...

Was that his plan? Throw some sexual crumbs to the desperate old maid and she’d be so thrilled and appreciative that she’d be unable to resist him and his plans for her? Kara winced.

Mac tried to interpret her expression. Stubborn, sad or mad? Or a little of each? He wished he knew her better, wondered if he should keep pushing or back off. After some consideration, he decided to give her the space she seemed to want. For a while.

He decided a neutral topic of conversation would be in order.

“Tell me about your job,” he said conversationally. “The Rev said you work for the—uh—department of...um...” He racked his brain but couldn’t come up with the name of the department. He had not been particularly interested in her place of employment, which would soon be in her past. “The government,” he amended.

“I’m a statistician with the Department of Commerce.” Kara didn’t bother to add that she had less than thirty days left before her position there was terminated, that she was taking her vacation this week rather than lose it.

She hadn’t told Uncle Will about her pending unemployment, either, not wanting to spoil their time together with her job woes. Now she was inordinately relieved she hadn’t said anything. Let them believe she was too dedicated to her career to be a proper mail-order bride.

“A statistician?” Mac mulled that one over. “Then you must be good with numbers.”

“I—uh—always did well in math,” she confessed rather reluctantly. She well remembered that females with a prowess for mathematics were hardly the romantic ideal, at least not among the young men she’d known through her school years.

“Great!” exclaimed Mac. Was he unaware of the stigma against numerically gifted women? “You can do our taxes. That’s my annual nightmare. And then there’s the matter of the children’s trust funds, set up for them by their parents’ insurance policy...another numbers headache I’ll gladly cede to you. And you can do the books for the ranch and handle the budget.”

“I—”

“Oh-oh, there I go again. Making presumptions.” Mac tried to look penitent. “I mean, of course, if you decide to stay, you’ll be taking over those chores.” He tried to sound as if he wasn’t sure she would be staying on as his wife.

Kara eyed him. That smarmy tone of his reminded her of the fairy tale where the Big Bad Wolf tried to convince the hapless Little Pigs on the other side of the door that he was harmless and innocent.

“I’m going to take Tai out of his carrier,” she announced. The cat’s vocal protests over his confinement were a welcome diversion to her, a note of reality in this astonishingly unreal scenario she seemed to have landed in.

“Good idea,” Mac agreed amiably. He was smiling, lost in his own thoughts. For the price of a one-way plane ticket, he was getting a sexually desirable wife, a caretaker for the kids and a math whiz! A very good return on his initial investment, despite the presence of the noisy spoiled cat as part of the package.

“Nice kitty,” he murmured, reaching over to pet the cat who’d settled himself on Kara’s lap with a disgruntled meow.

Tai tried to bite his hand.

“He’s nervous around strangers,” Kara half explained, half apologized.

“Not to worry. He’ll have plenty of time to get to know me.” Mac would’ve liked to rest his hand on her leg, perhaps even link his fingers with hers. It seemed a romantic gesture that she would like, and it would set the possessive aura he wished to convey.

But Tai’s less-than-amiable disposition and sharp white teeth precluded that.

“Did I mention that Reverend Will’s oldest daughter, Tricia, is severely allergic to cats?” Mac asked casually. “The reason I know is because the Rev and Ginny bought her a cat for her birthday several years ago, and poor Tricia ended up in the hospital emergency room with a serious allergy attack. The Rev pleaded from the pulpit the next Sunday for somebody in the congregation to please give the cat a home because the Franklins couldn’t keep it. There were several offers and a happy ending to the story. The cat got a new family and Tricia got a pet bird.”

“You’re making that up!” Kara accused.

“Now why would I do that? I was just providing you with some essential information.”

“You’re implying that Tai won’t be able to stay at the Franklins’ house with me!” Kara’s hazel eyes widened with apprehension, despite her doubts about his credibility.

“Oh, he won’t be. That’s a given,” Mac assured her.

What if it were true? It occurred to Kara that she hadn’t asked Uncle Will if she could bring Tai. She’d assumed he would know the cat would be coming along with her. After all, her former stepfather was well aware of Tai’s existence; she mentioned him several times in every letter she wrote. There were times when Tai and his feline antics were more interesting than anything going on in her own life!

“But I want you to know that Tai is welcome to stay at the ranch, even if you decide to stay in town with the Rev,” Mac offered, sounding for all the world like a Boy Scout bent on doing a good deed. “Of course, leaving him by himself in a strange place with a household of strangers could definitely be traumatic for such a sensitive cat. He might suffer long-lasting emotional scars.”

“As if you care!” Kara flared. “You just want to make me—”

“Yeah,” Mac cut in, a devilish grin lighting his face. “That’s right, I do.”

It took Kara a moment to catch on, her experience with suggestive banter being practically nonexistent. She flushed scarlet and fell silent.

For the remainder of the drive, conversation was desultory and always initiated by Mac. There wasn’t much to see in the darkness, but Mac commented on the terrain, the mountain peaks towering to the sky and promised a view of breathtaking fall scenery during the daylight hours. He told her a little about the history of the area and some Wilde family history, as well.

The Double R Ranch, whose brand was two R’s back-to-back, had been owned by the Wildes for four generations, passing from father to son.

“It was an easy tradition for the first three generations because each family had only one son, along with some daughters who were not eligible to inherit the ranch,” Mac explained. “Then my dad and mother had three sons, Reid, James and me. Crisis! Who’d get the ranch? It ended up being me because I loved the place and wanted to stay here. Reid headed for Southern California, and James to the world of academia. My dad signed over the ranch to me ten years ago, not long after Mother died. Dad lives in Scottsdale, Arizona now and is the sought-after bachelor in senior citizen circles.”

Kara listened attentively. “So you got the ranch and your brothers got nothing?” She had no siblings of her own but could imagine the hard feelings such partiality must engender.

Mac nodded. “Reid didn’t care, he’d married into money. James was resentful. He thought Dad should give him some sort of cash equivalent, but Dad refused to even consider it. He told James that he’d paid for his education, that James was earning a comfortable living as a college professor and the ranch was for the Wilde son who’d live and work there. End of story.”

“Does James still feel cheated?”

“Of course. James thrives on collecting injustices done to him. Reid’s kids made a major contribution to his collection. Don’t count on him or Eve coming out for our wedding,” he added dryly.

Kara was not about to touch that bait. “Well, I think it’s terribly unfair that all the Wilde daughters were automatically cut out and not even given a choice if they wanted to live and work on the ranch,” she said instead, in defense of her own sex. “It’s downright medieval.”

Mac nodded. “Yeah, my aunts weren’t too pleased. Neither were their aunts. But that’s tradition for you.”

“No, that’s stupid, sexist tradition for you,” Kara retorted. “If I had a daughter—”

“Hopefully, we will,” Mac interjected. “Along with the requisite Wilde male heir, of course.”

Kara ignored him. “If I had a daughter, she would split any inheritance evenly with her brother. There would never be a single doubt about that.”

Talking about her and Mac’s hypothetical children was entirely too provocative a subject. She felt edgy and belligerent, needful to keep him at bay.

“We’re jumping the gun here, honey,” Mac drawled. “After you meet Reid’s kids, you may opt for immediate sterilization.”

“They can’t be as bad as you say,” Kara insisted, feeling the need to disagree with anything he said.

“You’re right—they’re even worse.” Mac turned off the main highway, onto a dirt road. “The house is a few miles ahead. Prepare yourself for the onslaught.”