Читать книгу The Wedding Wager - Sara Orwig - Страница 10

As Megan looked up at him, her heart drummed. “Yes, I hate you for that, Jared,” she admitted reluctantly, hoping to get him out of her life with a desperation that was making a wreck of her nerves. This morning had shocked her beyond belief. She had almost fainted. She hated the light-headedness and queasy stomach the sight of him caused.

Even worse, she loathed the jump in her heartbeat, the unwelcome reaction he could still evoke effortlessly. He was more handsome and appealing than she remembered, and that cleft in his chin was even more noticeable to her now. Tall, dynamic, sexy—too many qualities that she couldn’t ignore.

“I’m astonished you’re even here. You have your chain of successful restaurants and you have high-rise condos. I’m sure you have investments galore, plenty to keep you busy.”

“I’m interested in your ranch, and now in you. I’m amazed you haven’t married again,” he said.

“Not so surprising,” she replied carefully, her palms growing sweaty with nervousness that she prayed she hid. “I’m a divorced single mom. I’m young—six years younger than you, if you recall. I haven’t met the right person. I’ve pursued a career.”

“Why do I think you haven’t touched on the real cause,” he broke in, and her pulse accelerated.

“I’ve given you all the explanations you’ll ever hear,” she said. In a taut moment, she was lost in his dark gaze. When his gaze lowered to her mouth, her lips parted. She hated the reaction she had to him, but she saw the faint, mocking smile on his face. He knew what he could do to her.

He ran his finger slowly along her jaw. “You know, we could go at this a completely different way. We can renew an old, solid friendship.”

“Solid until you walked out without a word!” she said, and yanked her head away, stepping back. “There’s nothing between us now. Jared, I—” she began, tempted to get into her SUV and go.

“Let’s eat,” he interrupted, as if he guessed she was on the verge of leaving. He walked away in long strides. Distraught, with her heart pounding and her insides churning, she watched him. Why was the past being flung back in her face, when she had found some peace and thought she was safe from having to deal with Jared? If only he would leave. She couldn’t wait to get through dinner. The minute it was over she was going home, and, hopefully, he would go back to Texas forever.

In minutes, they were seated inside at a table, where thick, juicy steaks, steaming potatoes and crisp green salads awaited.

“Tell me about your life in Santa Fe. You have gallery now.”

She smiled and sipped her water. “I suspect you already know a great deal about my life at home. I’d guess you have staff check on all pertinent details. Admit it, you could write a dossier on me. And you know what my home looks like, what my income is, what I drive. And you’ve seen pictures of my gallery.”

“Actually, no,” he replied, as she had his full, undivided attention. “Only pertinent facts. You’re a potter living in Santa Fe with your son. You’re single. You have your own gallery.”

“That’s about it,” she said quietly, sipping ice water. “Santa Fe is an artists’ colony, actually. It’s a peaceful, thriving place, where someone can have a degree of privacy while maintaining an artist’s public lifestyle. I prefer to keep it that way, Jared. You don’t have to know about my life. Of course, you’re in papers and magazines and the news often enough for any six people.”

“That means nothing,” he said.

“In the meantime, you’ve built a fortune on delicious dinners, with your exclusive Dalton’s steak houses.”

“I’ve been lucky. That first restaurant in Dallas was a far bigger success than I ever dreamed. You have to make reservations a month ahead at a Dalton’s.”

“Sounds impressive. You’ve had a spectacular rise.”

He shrugged. “My dad bankrolled me with a huge sum of money, telling my brothers he would do the same for them when the time arrived. That hasn’t been necessary. I made enough of a fortune that I brought my brothers into the business and we’ve never looked back.”

“So what about your life and your offices and homes?”

He looked amused by her refusal to discuss herself. In spite of the polite conversation, they were sparring. She could feel the tension in the undercurrent, with his constant, unwanted appeal. So much about him was agonizingly familiar that it tore at her. Guilt, anger, desire pulling at her with increasing force. Dinner was eons long already, and they hadn’t even gotten to the true purpose. She had lived with a secret for over six years now. Was she staying silent and committing a sin beyond measure?

She tried to focus on what he was saying about himself.

“I’m not anywhere half as interesting,” he said. “I work and I play. The usual way. Mostly, I’m at my headquarters in Dallas, in meetings or on the phone. Depending on what’s happening, I go out in the evening. Nothing exciting. I travel a lot, have no serious love life. Any men in your life right now?”

She wished she could answer yes and put another wall between them, but if he’d had staff check into her lifestyle, even minimally, Jared already knew the answer to his question. She shook her head. “No. I lead a busy life and my days are dedicated to my son first and my pottery second. They fill my hours.”

“You’re a beautiful, desirable woman,” Jared remarked, his words slowing and his voice growing husky. “I find it difficult to think there’s no one. It has to be your choice.”

“Thank you,” she replied, intending to answer briskly and move on, but her words came out breathless, far too revealing. “I suppose it’s my choice, but my hours are taken. As it is, there aren’t enough hours in the day.”

Even though the steak was delicious, she had little appetite. Each bite was an effort. She was aware the evening had darkened early given the thunder, but she sat with her back to the windows.

“Tell me about Ethan,” Jared said, startling her to hear him say her son’s name.

“What’s to say? He’s a normal six-year-old. He plays soccer and T-ball. He has a mind for numbers, even at this age. He’s tall and has my black hair.”

“Where is he tonight?”

“In Sioux Falls with Aunt Olga and Uncle Thomas. Every summer when school is out, he stays with them for several weeks. You must know my parents died, but Uncle Thomas and Aunt Olga are like grandparents to him.”

“Do you have joint custody?” he asked, startling her. She shook her head quickly.

“No. Mike wanted out of our marriage as much as I did. When he learned about a baby on the way, we were already divorced. He gave me full custody. He had no interest in Ethan. Ethan doesn’t even know him.”

“I can’t imagine a man not wanting to know his own son. Sorry,” Jared said. “At least Ethan was too young to know what happened.”

Thunder growled, rattling the windows and she glanced back. “I’d like to head home while it’s not raining.” She turned to look into Jared’s dark eyes. “Let’s get this over with. We might as well get to the main topic. My ranch is not for sale.”

“Look at options,” he said easily, leaning back in his chair. “You plan to stay in New Mexico, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do, but as long as my aunt and uncle are alive, I have Dakota ties. They’re close to Ethan, as I am with them.”

“If you sell the place at the price I’m offering, you can afford your own plane and pilot, or charter a plane whenever you’d like to see them. That’s not any reason to hang on to something that will be a burden. Your place will go to ruin if you don’t care for it constantly.”

“I’m aware of the problems,” she said.

“Your uncle and aunt won’t move out here?”

She shook her head. “No. They’re city people and they have no interest in the ranch. I said I’d pay them to run it and give them a share in it, but they prefer to stay in Sioux Falls. Uncle Thomas and Dad never got along, and I don’t think Uncle Thomas wants any part of the ranch. Their only son, Ralph, lives in D.C., and his wife’s family is from Virginia, so he’ll never come back here.”

“So, why spend your money maintaining the ranch?” Jared asked. “Surely not out of spite. That’s expensive and impractical.”

“Our ranch is a profitable place, as you know. Which is exactly why you’d like it.”

He shook his head. “It’s profitable if it’s run right. But you know your dad invested hours and money into it and made it what it is. You can’t work in Santa Fe and maintain the ranch the way your dad did.”

She knew Jared was right, but she wasn’t going to admit it. She couldn’t keep from feeling that if she refused him, he would go on to other things, and she could quietly find a buyer later in the year and sell without Jared knowing until it was a done deal.

“Are you willing to close your gallery and move back here?” Jared asked. He sounded as if he were asking a casual question. His quiet voice and easygoing manner were deceptive. Even though she hadn’t been around Jared in years, she knew better. He had to care, and with his wealth, she suspected he was unaccustomed to rejection.

“I don’t think I’ll have to,” she answered, with the same lightness of tone that he maintained. “If it turns out more of my time is required, I’ll hire someone to run my gallery.”

They both had stopped eating and she could feel the tension increase. She also realized the thunder was more frequent. “Jared, I have to get across your bridge.”

“You have time,” he said dismissively, and with as much certainty as if he controlled the weather, which, under other circumstances, would have amused her. “Here’s what I’ll do,” he said. “I’ll pay you one million more than your asking price of thirty million,” he said flatly. “That has to be a figure that you have to consider.”

Stunned, she stared at him. One million more was huge. On top of her asking price, it was fantastic. “That’s impressive,” she said, studying him. “Why would you possibly want the Sorenson ranch that badly?”

He nodded. “Plus, I’d like the water rights.”

“The river runs through the Dakotas, far north of us. You can’t control all of it.”

He smiled as if they were discussing the weather. She knew he expected her to jump at his spectacular offer. “No, I can’t, but I’ll feel better about it if I control more water than I do now. That’s what our dads fought over. Plus, you have a thriving ranch. I would fully expect to make back my investment, or I wouldn’t want it. There would be no point.

“I’ve made you a damn fine offer, Megan, and you know it. Think about it. Whatever you do about the ranch, I don’t think you’re going to spend a lot of your time in South Dakota.”

“That’s not the only consideration.”

“You’re hanging on out of anger, not because of a business decision. I know you don’t run your gallery this way.”

“I’ve never been emotionally involved with anyone the way I was with you, so it’s difficult to view objectively,” she admitted, hating to reveal the depth of her hurt. His eyes widened as if in disbelief, and she wondered what he was thinking about. Just being with him was opening doors to more problems and hurt. Thunder boomed again, as if a reminder to terminate the evening.

Staring at his supreme self-assurance in consternation, she knew he was right, but she wasn’t going to let him win. “You’re a ruthless man, Jared,” she said flatly.

“No, I’m not. At least not in this case, and you know it. That’s a fabulous bid, more than you’ll get from anyone else. More than the place is worth. You’ve admitted that yourself. There’s nothing ruthless about it. Most people wouldn’t even be discussing the matter.” He reached out to touch her hand, startling her and causing an unwelcome jump in her heartbeat. “But then, you’re not ‘most people,’ and you never have been,” he added in a husky voice that made her draw a deep breath. His gaze lowered to her mouth and her lips tingled. “You think about it,” he suggested quietly, continuing to hold her hand. His hand slipped down to her wrist lightly, finding her racing pulse.

Satisfaction flared in his eyes, and she knew he could tell that she still had a strong physical reaction to him. The moment became taut, as his dark eyes probed hers. She should look away, move, speak—anything to end this electricity that intensified with each second; but she was held by his mesmerizing gaze. Memories rose to haunt her, tormenting moments of the past and their lovemaking. She could remember his kisses in exact detail, recollections she’d tried to shake.

“Stick to business,” she said, the words bubbling up in anger even as her soft tone sheathed the steel in her voice.

She became aware of rain, wondering when it had begun, because she had been engrossed by their conversation. To her chagrin, she discovered it was a downpour, barely heard inside while sheets of water beat against the windows. She stood abruptly. “I’m going. I’ve stayed until it’s pouring and I didn’t intend to.”

“Sit and wait it out,” he suggested. “We can be civilized with each other. If you prefer, we can stay off the topic of business.”

“The only thing I have to talk to you about, Jared, is business,” she said, praying that was all she had to discuss with him and that he never learned the truth of why she was so unhappy to see him. The whole day and evening had turned into a nightmare, and she tried to hide her nervousness over seeing him again.

“You’ll have a rough drive home. Let me take you and you can send a couple of your hands for your SUV tomorrow.”

“No,” she said, going to get her purse. Jared strolled behind her, his long legs eating up the distance with ease.

“Do you have a raincoat or umbrella?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“I didn’t think about it. I have an umbrella in the SUV.”

“I’ve got an extra. Wait a moment and I’ll get it for you.”

She watched him walk away, her gaze drifting over his long legs and through the memories of their bare strength against hers. Annoyed, she turned to the darkened window, watching rain beat against it. She wanted out of his house. Clearly, she recalled the muddy, rushing river nearly brushing Jared’s bridge. She had to be able to get through. She couldn’t stay the night with him.

To her relief, he reappeared with an umbrella and raincoat.

“Take both. I have others.”

“Thanks. Where are you going?” she asked, as she watched him yank on a second raincoat.

“I’ll follow you and see that you get across the bridge. I intended to have it replaced, but I forget about it in the dry spells. We can go years without it being underwater.”

“I can manage by myself. Thanks for dinner, Jared. I’ll consider the offer and get back to you,” she said over her shoulder, but he caught up with her, reaching ahead of her to open the door. His car was nowhere in sight, and she knew he would have to go back through the house or make a run for a garage. She didn’t care what he did. Her focus was on crossing the river.

As she started the SUV and drove away, she peered through the watery windshield that couldn’t be completely cleared by the wipers, even set on the highest speed.

Each flash of lightning increased her concern. Brilliant light illuminated fields that were turning into ponds, water running in the bar ditch. Occasionally, thin streams crossed low spots in the graveled road, and she knew the saturated ground was not soaking up the rain.

She couldn’t be cut off. Not here and not now. Why had she let him goad her into this dinner? He would have made his pitch whether she showed up to eat with him or not.

Rounding a bend, she topped a rise when lightning flashed. She gasped as the streak of light revealed a river ahead. The instant display vanished, leaving driving rain and darkness, but the image was indelible in her mind. There was no bridge in sight because it was underwater.

She glanced in the rearview mirror and received another surprise. Headlights were a quarter of a mile behind and gaining on her. It had to be Jared. How fast was he driving in this storm?

She forgot about him as the next bolt lit up her surroundings, and again she saw the river with only the top of the bridge rails showing.

With a sinking disappointment, she knew crossing it would impossible. Jared pulled close behind, honked his horn and stopped. He climbed out of his black pickup, dashing to the passenger side of her SUV. Reluctantly, she unlocked the door to let him in out of the storm.

“You can’t cross the bridge. Sorry, Meg,” he said as he slid in, slamming the door.

“Megan!” she corrected. It was the first time he’d called her Meg since he’d walked out on her.

“You’ll have to come back to the house. I’ve got plenty of room.”

In another flash of lightning, she looked at the river that spread out of its banks.

“I promise you this night will pass and be only a memory,” he said quietly, and she turned to find him watching her. “If you’d like, I’ll turn your SUV around for you.”

“Of course not, but thanks,” she answered. “I’ve gotten along on my own,” she said, unable to keep her resentment from showing.

Her cell phone rang, and she pulled it out of her pocket and answered, only to hear her son’s voice. She glanced at Jared, fear and guilt returning as she said hello to Ethan.

Jared waved at her and climbed out of the car. Relieved to have him go, she let out her breath. A tense evening was now turning into a grim night. She talked briefly, promised she would call again when she was out of the storm. Then she turned her SUV around in water that lapped over new ground.

Still, the rain came in thick sheets, drumming on the SUV and shutting the world from view except what was caught in her twin headlights. Jared’s pickup had faded from view quickly in the rain. The thought of being under the same roof with Jared through a stormy night frazzled her nerves. She didn’t care how large his house was—it could never be big enough, being thrown together through the night and morning until the rain stopped.

She wasn’t going to worry about tomorrow. Just get through tonight and resist his dark eyes. Their midnight depths held blazing desire, a continual hot-blooded look that made her tingle from head to toe. There was nothing circumspect, businesslike or remote about what she saw smoldering in his appreciative gaze.

When he was younger, he went after what he wanted with a single-mindedness that was fierce. She knew that intensity was focused on acquiring her ranch, but she didn’t care to have it turned on seduction.

Squaring her shoulders, she promised herself to keep barriers between them and try to get him out of her life before he discovered what she never wanted him to know. The SUV slid on the wet road and she turned her full attention to driving.

As she expected, when she reached his house he was waiting on the lighted porch. He stood by the railing, one booted foot propped on the rail. If he weren’t so handsome and sexy, it would be far easier to remain cool toward him. Too many shared moments that, at the time, she had thought the best of her life, made it impossible to deal with him objectively. She cut the motor and sat a minute. The wind was blowing, a thorough storm lashing the earth as if a mirror of her emotions. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out with the umbrella and dashed to the porch and into the house, where she kicked off her impractical pumps. She left her umbrella on the flagstone entryway. “I’ll leave them so I don’t track water,” she added, walking along the wide hall with him, trying to block memories of being in this house years ago. Her simmering anger crushed conversation and she walked in silence.

“Remember any of this?” he asked.

“Of course,” she answered in clipped tones, and he glanced at her with his head tilted and one eyebrow raised in a questioning glance that made her heart thud. She knew that look only too well.

“You haven’t changed much here, if my memory is correct,” she said, looking at potted palms and gilt-framed seascapes.

“Not in this part of the house. I’ve left this part alone. Otherwise, I had an addition built to the kitchen, as well as a new bedroom for me. I’ll show you later. How’s this room?” he asked, switching on a light and entering a room with a king-size four-poster bed and maple furniture that stood on a polished oak floor.

“Fine,” she said, following him into the room and seeing the adjoining bathroom.

“Let’s go back to the kitchen for something warm to drink. What would you like—hot chocolate, hot tea or something cold?” he asked while they walked down the hall again.

“If you have some, I’d prefer hot tea,” she answered. “I told my son I’d call him back. If you’ll excuse me,” she said, getting her cell phone from a pocket in her skirt. She went to the living area to stand at one of the floor-to-ceiling glass walls and watch the rain while she called Ethan. She missed him and just wanted to wrap her arms around him. Reassuring herself he was safe and happy with her relatives, she tried to quell her anxiety. Next she talked to her aunt to tell her she was marooned at Jared’s ranch.

With each jagged streak of lightning, she saw that the drenching rain hadn’t let up. The puddles had spread, increasing her concerns that she might be stranded in the morning.

Assuring her aunt she was fine, Megan put away her phone and rejoined Jared in the kitchen. Asking about his work, she perched on a bar stool and watched him set yellow china mugs on a large tray. Her gaze traveled over his features, so familiar to her. If he ever saw Ethan …

Her heart did a flip at the thought. With brown eyes and black hair, Ethan looked as much like his dad as a child could, even down to the cleft in his chin.

Another clap of thunder boomed and lights dimmed. Jared glanced toward the windows. “I’ll get candles, in case,” he said, crossing to disappear into a walk-in pantry.

“All I need,” she mumbled softly, hoping she didn’t spend the evening in candlelight with him. He had too many things going for him already.

Still focusing conversation on his work, she followed him into the living area, where she curled up in a chair. Lights were low and Jared had switched on soft music, while rain still drummed outside and poured off the porch roof. He took the nearby sofa and placed a tray with their steaming cups of tea and coffee on the glass table in front of both of them. Usually, such surroundings would lend a cozy intimacy to the evening, but she planned to have her drink and get back to the bedroom and close the door on Jared for the night.

As he answered her inquiries about his Dallas and Paris offices, his traveling and his houses, she wondered if she had made the mistake of her life. Should she have revealed to Jared long ago that he was the father of her son?

Had she erred by never contacting Jared through the intervening years? The minute the question came, she knew if she had to do it all over again, she would do the same. Jared had walked out on her without a word, never contacting her until their encounter this morning.

The simmering resentment boiled momentarily as she remembered her joy and his declarations of love, the wild passion between them and then … desertion. He didn’t contact her, give her any indication that anything was wrong—he left, and when she began to look for him, she discovered from his parents that he’d gone to Texas, where he’d taken a new job. They gave her his phone number, but she had no intention of calling him. The hurt had been monumental, compounded when she’d learned she was pregnant.

To forgive and forget was impossible. Tonight, he wanted something from her, and therefore was flirting and charming once again; but there was a solid, lasting bedrock of pain that he’d caused.

Still, guilt nagged and worry plagued her. Had she cut her son out of a relationship that would have enriched his life? Yet, how could a man who left like that have been that role model? He might not have paid any attention to him, which would have multiplied hurts.

Again, she hated the painful memories—agonizing ones of Jared, hurtful moments with her father, who was enraged when he discovered her pregnancy. Jared had been gone two months by the time her father learned the truth, and from the first moment when the doctor had given her the news, she’d known that she would be alone when she had her baby.

It hadn’t turned out that way, thanks to her aunt and uncle in Sioux Falls, who stood by her through Ethan’s birth.

Jared tilted his head to give her another one of those quizzical looks that was so familiar. How often had she seen the same look from her son?

“I think I’m talking far too much about my life. Tell me about yours,” Jared said. He sat back with one foot on his knee. A brilliant flash was followed by a window-rattling clap of thunder, and the lights dimmed and then went out.

“Sit tight,” Jared said in the darkness. “We’re ready for the emergency.”

With the next flash of lightning, she saw him standing, holding a candle. He began to light candles and place them in holders on the table.

The hiss of rain could be heard clearly, since music no longer played. Candlelight flickered and bathed Jared in a golden glow, highlighting his prominent cheekbones, his thickly-lashed eyes, the cleft in his chin and the sheen in his well-trimmed black hair. Unbidden thoughts came, of running her hands through that thick hair which had a tendency to curl, particularly in damp weather. Most of the time, Jared fought the curls and kept them combed out as much as he could, taming them into slight waves. He sat again, closer to the end of the sofa and her chair. “You look gorgeous, especially in candlelight.”

“Thank you,” she answered, hating the stab of pleasure his compliment gave her. “In candlelight everyone looks appealing. And on another topic—do you work more in the U.S. or abroad?”

He looked amused as he answered. “A safer topic, as you wish. Far less interesting,” he said. “I’m in the U.S. the majority of the time. Did you move to Santa Fe when you started making pottery?”

“Not right away,” she answered. She couldn’t imagine that he really cared what she’d done. “I worked for a decorator in Sioux Falls as well as on my own,” she continued. “I marketed through a Web site, and through the decorator. I thought it would be good to work in Santa Fe, so I moved and eventually went out on my own.”

“I doubt if your dad liked you leaving here.”

“No, he didn’t, but he decided it would be a good experience for me. I think he thought I’d fail and come home, despite the fact I’d even bought a house,” she replied, remembering how frightening it had been to move and go on her own with a small son. She had worried about Ethan and if the change would hurt him. The early years she’d lived with constant worry.

“Did he ever recognize your talent?”

She smiled. “Once I began to make sufficient money, my dad’s attitude changed.”

“It usually does,” Jared said. “Nothing succeeds like success. It’s difficult to imagine you working in clay, though,” he said, taking her hands in his warm ones. “These hands don’t look like you’re a potter.”

He turned her hands in his, intensifying a smoldering desire that she couldn’t extinguish with either anger or logic. Drawing a deep breath, she pulled her hands away.

“I liked holding your hands,” Jared said in a husky voice.

“It’s the storm and candlelight—and wine you had with dinner. I suspect you like holding the hand of almost any woman you spend the evening with.”

He ran his finger along her cheek and studied her with a somber, intent look as he shook his head. “Perhaps, but this is different. I didn’t know when I came back here and saw you that it would be this way.”

Her heart drummed along with her annoyance at him. She had no intention of letting him rekindle an unwanted physical attraction. To her dismay, he still held appeal, but her emotions battled it.

Beyond her physical response to him, there was not only her smoldering rage over the hurt he’d inflicted by leaving but also icy fear over what he might discover about her now. To be in close proximity to him set her nerves on edge.

“Jared, this isn’t a special moment, other than we may be having the rain of the year. Don’t pour on the compliments because I have something you want. You have a captive audience tonight, but don’t overdo it,” she said, thankful she could sound detached. Anything to keep an emotional distance between them. Yet her heart raced and his words weren’t going to be easily forgotten.

He gave her a crooked smile. “That wasn’t the reason for the compliments, I promise you. Buying your ranch was the last thing on my mind,” he added, in that same husky voice that was a caress in itself.

She finished her tea and stood. “I’ll turn in. I rise early.”

He stood. “It’s early to turn in, Megan.”

“Times change, Jared. We’re different people. I’ll take a candle.” When she reached to pick up her dishes, his hand closed around her wrist. The touch was light and casual, but the outcome was an unwanted skip of her heartbeat. Warmth suffused her beyond anything the hot tea had accomplished. Startled, she glanced up.

“You know that’s not true. Leave the dishes,” he said, his husky voice revealing his reaction to the contact. She was bending over the table and he had leaned close to take her wrist. Now they were only inches apart, closer than before. Candlelight flickered with pinpoints of light reflected in his brown eyes.

Once again she was captive, as she’d been beneath his volatile kisses—those kisses that had always set her ablaze.

“Megan,” he said softly.

“No,” she answered with little force. A pang of yearning tore her, instantly followed by anger that he could still have such an impact on her. Worse, she knew he was on the verge of a kiss she very much wanted. “No,” she repeated more firmly. She straightened and he dropped his hand, still watching her with searing fire in the depths of his eyes.

“We could declare a truce,” he suggested softly. “That was long ago, Megan.”

Holding back a seething retort, she glared at him. “This is a useless discussion,” she said, hating that she couldn’t appear more poised. Appear as if what he’d done years ago no longer mattered. She reached to light another candle, but he steadied her hand and they lit a candle together.

Once more, he was holding her wrist. His slight touch increased her awareness of him more. And he was taking his own sweet time getting the candle burning. She was tempted to yank away from his grasp, but she’d already been foolish enough to reveal how much she reacted to the past. Over the flickering light, she looked up to meet his hot gaze trained on her mouth. She couldn’t get her breath. Her lips parted and she wanted him in spite of what was sensible.

“Light the candle, Jared,” she whispered.

His thumb moved back and forth slowly, a feathery touch on her wrist, until he paused and she knew he was fully aware that she always reacted to the slightest contact.

Desire magnified, pounding with each heartbeat. Setting aside the candle, he slid his hand behind her head.

“Jared,” she whispered, a protest that came out a breathless invitation.

He drew her the last few inches and his mouth covered hers.

His warm lips moved caressingly, his tongue touching hers and then sliding deep into her mouth. Longing, physical and emotional, tugged at her even as she returned his passion. His other arm went around her waist and he stepped around the corner of the table to pull her body against his.

Once again, she was in his arms. How often had she dreamed of this moment, only to wake and discover it had been a fantasy. That Jared had still broken her heart so ruthlessly. Amazingly, here she was, actually kissing him, held in his strong embrace, finding him even sexier than she’d remembered.

Heat became fire. She fought the urge to wind her arms around him and press closer against him. Half of her longed for him desperately and the other half screamed to step away, to prevent what was happening.

His kisses burned wisdom to ashes. She kissed him hungrily, aching for more, knowing she was tumbling to disaster. Each second compounded her years-old need. Finally, she pushed against his chest.

He released her slowly, opening his eyes to study her in a heated silence.

“We’re not going back there, Jared,” she declared with a gasp. “I didn’t want that to happen. Don’t make anything of it. It meant nothing, except I haven’t kissed a man in a long time.”

“Don’t be so angry, Meg. I like kissing you,” he said in a husky voice that held such warmth she tingled from head to toe. “No harm intended and no damage done,” he added in unruffled assurance.

“Don’t!” she cried. “I’m turning in,” she said, circling the table in the opposite direction from Jared.

“You don’t have to escort me to the bedroom door,” she said, when he started toward her.

“Good night, Jared,” she stated firmly.

“I wish I could take away your anger. We were young, Megan.” His dark shirt was open at the throat and locks of hair had fallen over his forehead. Because of the rain, the natural curl in his hair had tightened and black curls framed his face.

She shook her head. “Good night,” she repeated.

Emotionally exhausted, she entered her bedroom.

Her lips were still warm from his kisses and she was on fire with craving. The manner in which she had responded to him tore at her. He had opened Pandora’s Box for her. She blamed it on not dating, but she kept busy and didn’t miss having a man in her life. Between work and taking care of Ethan and his activities, her life was full, busy, so she fell exhausted into bed at night. But with a kiss, Jared had effortlessly demolished all her defenses. One touch, one kiss and she had been mush, melting and kissing him back. He’d made her yearn for his kisses and the feel of his warm, muscular body.

All yearnings she didn’t want.

Crossing the room, she tried to forget that Jared was close, that he was soon to be undressed and stretched in bed. He used to sleep in the nude and she suspected he still did. Images plagued her, driving any chance of sleep away.

Why couldn’t she have remained aloof and showed him that he couldn’t stir her? Instead, she had responded passionately. She couldn’t stop going over it, even though thinking about it made her hot. How could she have responded like that to a man whom she despised?

And his one million …

Sell him the ranch and she’d never see or hear from him again. Logic said to sell. She would get an incredible price, be rid of something she didn’t care for anyway, She would sever most ties with South Dakota and only run a risk of seeing Jared when she visited her aunt and uncle. She would narrow the chances of Jared discovering what she had done.

On the other hand, she couldn’t bear to deed the ranch to him. Fury over the hurts he’d inflicted tempted her to strike out at him in any way she could. Retribution was too enticing, something she had dreamed about for the first years after Jared’s disappearance.

Plus, her father would never sell Jared the ranch. Her dad had hated the Daltons, despising Jared’s father because of their continual fights over water. Each one had accused the other of taking too much. Water fights had always spilled over into every other contact. If a fence went down, each man blamed the other.

She knew, too, her father had viewed Jared’s dad’s simple background with disdain, as if he were a peasant. When Jared had walked out on her, her father had hated him for hurting her, even though he had been doing his best to talk her out of marrying Jared when Jared had vanished. Many issues fueled the family feud.

Both sides of her argument were strong. Money versus emotional satisfaction.

When her father’s health began to fail, he had deeded the ranch to her. Upon his death, that decision became a safety net for her. It saved her time and money to have the ranch already in her possession, and left her free to sell it.

Each time she thought about Jared walking out on her and now coming back to buy the ranch, she felt as if she couldn’t bear to sell—at any price.

Was she harming herself and Ethan by her refusal to let Jared buy the ranch? The money would be more than enough to provide for Ethan’s education and a comfortable lifestyle they could never have otherwise. If she refused Jared, she might not get anywhere near her asking price from other buyers.

She was certain she would sell, but it could take a while—time she really didn’t want to devote to the care of the ranch. It took money to keep it running smoothly, and with her father’s failing health the past year, there were areas that had been neglected. The sensible business and professional approach was to sell to Jared or counter for an even higher amount—something she suspected he would agree to, to get what he wanted.

She knew she would pore over the arguments all night long. So far, the only person interested in the ranch had been Jared. She curled up in a chair near the window, watching the rain and flashes of lightning. Hopefully, once the rain stopped, the river would drop rapidly.

She rubbed her temples. Sleep would likely elude her for hours. To sell or not to sell? Stop remembering his touch and being aggravated with herself for succumbing to his slightest touch.

She paced to the window to stare outside, blowing out the candle to depend on lightning flashes for illumination.

If she would agree to sell the ranch, it would be the quickest way to get Jared out of her life. She stood at the window watching rivulets of water zigzag their way along the glass. Flashes of lightning revealed small rivers running through the yard and large silver puddles. The river would be high and impossible to cross, and the rain hadn’t slacked off any.

She returned to a chair to stare outside while her thoughts churned over her predicament. Far into the night, she fell asleep in the chair.

Dawn was streaked with rays of the rising sun, lifting her spirits and giving her hope that she could leave soon.

She still struggled with her decision. Because of her fury at Jared, and her father’s memory, she didn’t want to sell. Keeping the ranch when Jared wanted it would give her immense satisfaction and a bit of revenge.

At the same time, the argument to sell couldn’t be dismissed lightly.

She fell asleep in the chair, and woke undecided in the morning. Gathering her things, she headed to the bathroom to shower and dress in what she had worn the evening before. After combing her hair, she went to the kitchen, where she found Jared with a cup of coffee on the table in front of him. Dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved, gray Western shirt and boots, he looked irresistible.

“Good morning,” he said easily, walking over to her, his gaze roaming over her appreciatively. “You’re gorgeous—as you were last night,” he said, curling a lock of her hair around his fingers. “This is the way I like your hair best.” Catching the scent of his masculine aftershave, she felt her pulse kick up.

“Thank you for your compliment,” she replied, wishing she had done something else with her hair. She didn’t care to wear it in the style he liked best. “I’m a little overdressed for breakfast, but so be it.”

“I could loan you my jeans,” he said, with a twinkle in his eyes.

“No, thanks,” she answered quickly.

“I didn’t think you’d accept, but they wouldn’t fit you anyway. I cooked breakfast—help yourself to whatever you like,” he said, waving his hand toward covered dishes and pans on a stove. “Fruit is on the table. Would you like orange juice or tomato juice, milk, coffee—you can have all if you’d like.”

“Orange juice and coffee please,” she said, picking up a plate and looking at the many dishes. She helped herself to scrambled eggs, slices of kiwi and a bowl of blackberries. She had lost her appetite. As she watched him serve her juice and coffee, she knew she couldn’t bear to sell him the ranch, no matter how much refusing him cost her. She would get a bit of satisfying retaliation here.

“This is a huge breakfast. Do you cook often?”

“Not unless there’s no alternative. This morning we’re cut off from my kitchen help.”

“Looks like I’m here longer.” She carried her plate to the table where he sat facing her.

“There are all sorts of things we could do to fill the day,” he stated, causing her to look up sharply. When he gave her a disarming smile, she shook her head, smiling in return.

“I think simple conversation is the most likely. Or if you have business you can transact, you go right ahead.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. If you don’t sell your ranch to me, we’ll be neighbors, so we might as well get reacquainted.”

“I see no point in that,” she said quickly.

“You surely don’t plan for us to go through the future fighting, the way our fathers did.”

“No … but reacquainted—I don’t think so.”

“So what’s it going to be? To sell or not to sell?” he asked.