The Corporate Cowboy

THE CORPORATE COWBOY Kathryn Anne Dubois THE CORPORATE COWBOY By Kathryn Anne Dubois 1 THE CORPORATE COWBOY Kathr...

Author: Dubois Kathryn Anne

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THE CORPORATE COWBOY

Kathryn Anne Dubois

THE CORPORATE COWBOY By

Kathryn Anne Dubois

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Kathryn Anne Dubois

© copyright November 2005, Kathryn Anne Dubois Cover art by Amber Moon, © copyright November 2005 ISBN 1-58608-763-0 New Concepts Publishing Lake Park, GA 31636 www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

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CHAPTER ONE

C.J. Wilson pushed through the brass turnstile of the headquarters of Dutton Industries International and stepped into the gleaming lobby with a mission: to kidnap its President and Chief Executive Officer. He left her no recourse. He had ignored her phone messages and dismissed the veiled threats she sent through lawyers--or at least on letters she’d written on fancy letterhead made to look like it came from a law firm. He even discounted the negative publicity she threatened to send his way, pitiful though it was. It was his own fault that she was reduced to drastic measures. But she could not let him vote at that board meeting this morning, could not let him thwart her last chance to get back her stolen inheritance from the clutches of her rattlesnake of a stepfather. She glanced in all directions. The same guards as yesterday stood at their posts. It didn’t matter; she wouldn’t pass this way again. She hadn’t come this far to back down now. **** Luke Dutton pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and keyed in a figure. When his PC calculated a result considerably more than he expected, he was unable to rouse any enthusiasm, so with a bored shrug, the reluctant CEO pushed his chair around and propped his feet on the marble windowsill of his high-rise office overlooking downtown Dallas. Without hope, he searched for a scrap of greenery beyond the hanging potted plants his assistant, Ruth Daniels, had hung in an effort to make him feel more at home. An impossible task, unless she arranged to ship in a few mountain ranges and an


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abundance of sagebrush. He laced his fingers behind his neck and tilted back his chair. Even she had her limits. As if to refute his claim, Ruth burst into his office with more energy than a thirtyyear-old and she was more than twice that. She tapped the watch face on her slim wrist and frowned when she saw him tipping back his chair on its perch. “One of these days you’ll break the legs and land on your backside.” She whipped his tie off the corner coat rack and headed toward him. “If you don’t get moving, you’ll be late for the meeting again.” She gave his entwined feet a sound kick, landing them flat on the carpet. He gave a grunt. “They can’t start without me, so what’s the difference?” But nevertheless, he stood obediently and let her wrap his neck in the raw-silk chokehold. “Hey, too tight.” He tried to loosen the knot but she gave him a cuff on the wrist. “This is the tie Serena gave you, isn’t it?” she said. “The girl has lovely taste. Brings out the blue of your eyes.” She gave his tie a fond pat, smoothing it in place. “Your mother used to say your eyes were mined from the Yogo Gulch. The only mine in Montana--in the world--that yields sapphire the color of cornflower blue.” “So you’ve said.” Luke grinned. “About a thousand times.” “Well,” she said, standing on her tip-toes and running a quick hand through his dark blond hair. “It’s worth repeating. And you need a haircut.” “Yes, ma’am.” “Did you even shave this morning?” “I shaved,” he defended himself as she turned him around and headed him toward the suit jacket he had flung carelessly on the leather sofa. “I almost forgot,” she said, snatching the jacket up and smoothing away the creases. “Serena called. The designer who’s making her gown for that Tyler dinner that you’re going to in two weeks scheduled an urgent fitting.” “I never said I was going to that dinner with her.” “I think she just assumed you’d be taking her--” “She assumes too much.”


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Ruth gave him a withering look. “Oh, does she? You spend nights with her, don’t you? The entire night.” He sighed. “Ruth,”--he gave her his most indulgent smile--“I’m not sixteen anymore. And this is 2005. We’re adults--” “Spare me the details. The rest of her message was that she’ll be meeting you a little late tonight.” He eased his broad shoulders into the custom-fit jacket. “Call her back and tell her we’ll just cancel until another night.” Ruth raised a brow. Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m just saving her the trouble of trying--” “Uh-huh,” Ruth said, handing him a brush. “Use this.” Thankful for the distraction, he walked to the sheets of glass along the wall and looked at the reflection of the black silky fabric that draped his legs and chest. Armani. He looked like one of those models from GQ that Serena liked. Even the tie she gave him had a few small flowers hidden in the design. All he’d need now was to cut his hair, too. Ruth came up beside him. “For heaven’s sake, what could be wrong this time? Is she too beautiful? A mite too intelligent?” “Maybe.” He gave her a grin before he jerked the brush through his hair. She might have stood a full head shorter than him but she was long on persistence. He could see her loading her ammunition. “Too rich, is she?” It looked like she planned on firing both barrels. “Or maybe too cultured for the likes of you?” “Too perfect.” Luke winked, handing her back the brush. He smiled at the frown creasing her forehead. Ruth exhaled. “Oh yes, that would be a hardship now, wouldn’t it?” She strode to his desk and began stuffing his briefcase. “Your father approves of her.” She snapped the case shut. “I do, too. She has all the necessary requirements.” Luke chuckled. “Is that what this is about?” He pushed back his jacket and braced


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his hands on his hips. “Isn’t it enough that I’m dragged down here to help my father?” He bent down eye level with her. “And I’ll remind you, we’ve turned this division around in just three short quarters and will have it running in the black by the fourth.” Ruth lifted her chin. “And it’s a wonderful thing you did, too, diverting your cash profits into his company. Although you should have just told your father to retire.” She shook her head. “Why he wants to go and start up another new division is beyond me.” “He likes the challenge. He surprised me though by not balking when I insisted he make me acting CEO. I only did that thinking he’d refuse and then I’d have an excuse to book it back to my thoroughbreds.” “Did you just change the subject?” “You did.” He smiled. She huffed. “Getting married wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to you. You could produce a few grandchildren before your poor dear father--” “The ol’ man is in perfect health.” “You’re thirty-four. What are you waiting for? A few small children shouldn’t be too hard to manage.” Luke grinned. “How about if I skip the marriage part and just go right to the little ones? That wouldn’t be half bad.” Ruth tisked. “Don’t start.” Luke laughed and leaned across the desk to give her a quick peck on the cheek, but before he could she turned aside and looked over his shoulder in the direction of the door. He turned to see what had caught her attention and saw the tiny female frame with a buckskin fringed jacket hanging off small shoulders. He let his eyes drop down to her snug-fitting, faded Levis. He stopped at the scuffed cowboy boots with heels worn down at irregular angles and the threading so tattered it broke in places. His eyes wandered back up again. Ruth came from behind his desk and drew up beside him while he stared at the doorway to his office suite. “Can I help you, Miss?” Ruth asked. She tipped back the wide brim of her cowhide hat to reveal cat-like eyes, amber


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marbles flecked with gold. Sharp eyes that narrowed in on him so that her winged brows slanted in a V and the outer corners of her eyes tilted as though she were a bobcat ready to pounce. For a half minute he stood mesmerized, watching her eyes dart around the room before returning to him. “I’m looking for William L. Dutton.” Her voice was a husky purr that sent his blood pumping warm and heavy in places that would surely cause Ruth to blush. He nearly let out a low whistle of approval as she continued to wait, her gaze steady, demanding an answer. Ruth glanced up at him a minute before responding. “Do you have an appointment, Miss . . .?” “No.” She shifted the weight of the small backpack she had slung over one shoulder, then gave Luke a quick once-over before taking an impatient scan of the large office. “Are you Mr. Dutton?” She arched a brow. “William Lucas Dutton the Third, at your service.” He gave a mock bow. She frowned. “CEO of Dutton Industries?” “That’s right.” She cast him a suspicious look and her frown deepened. “I need to see you. Now.” She braced a hand on her hip. Ruth attempted a protest, but Luke held up a hand. “It’s all right,” he said, reluctant to take his gaze from the little wildcat. He leaned back and perched on his desk, sprawling his legs out before him. He watched her sexy mouth form into a subtle smirk as she took in the sight of his prissy suit. He inclined his head and studied her. Her eyes were set wide alongside a straight nose and a mouth almost too full for her small face. He had known prettier women. He glanced at her petite frame. Sexier ones. Hadn’t he? He wished he could see her hair. It must be dark, like her brows. That was another thing about her. She actually had eyebrows. Not the skinny lines of color the women here thought passed for eyebrows. He’d bet her hair was long, too. As if to confound him, she crammed her hat down farther on her head and


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adjusted the brim. “Well?” He cleared his throat and turned to Ruth. “You go along, Ruth. I’ll be there in a minute.” The older woman paused in surprise. “Very well, then.” She acknowledged the girl with a brief nod before sweeping past her and out the door. The girl followed swiftly behind and closed the door. He heard the faint click of the lock. This could get interesting. He couldn’t help but notice how nicely her cute little bottom filled out her jeans. “You’re coming with me.” He looked up from the small curvy form he was admiring and blinked. “Just cooperate,” she said in that sexy voice, “and no one will get hurt.” Hurt? Even with her jacket and boots he’d be surprised if she tipped the scale at much more than a hundred, and she was easily half his height. Who did she think would get hurt? He smiled and rubbed his chin. “Well now, darlin’, that’s more than a pleasant thought. And I’d be happy to oblige . . .” She took a few steps closer and then stopped. Her hand slipped inside her jacket. With lightening speed, she whipped out a shiny 38 Smith & Wesson revolver and aimed it directly at him.


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CHAPTER TWO

“Whoa!” Luke held his hands up and straightened, looking down his nose at the barrel. His eyes darted from the gun to her tempting little face and then back again. Jesus! “Turn around, slowly.” With a quick snap of her wrist, she yanked a cord from around her waist. If the action was any indication of her skills, Luke had no doubt she knew her way around a ranch. “Put your wrists together.” He had no intention of turning around. His mind raced to figure out what she wanted. “Look, if you have complaints, I’m on my way to a board meeting. You could come--” “Oh, now you’re willing to talk. Get your hands back up.” She gave the revolver a jerk. “It’s too late for talk.” The barrel was now directed at his gut. He glanced uneasily at it and then noticed something peculiar. The chambers were empty. He hid a smile of relief. “You’re coming with me, Mr. Dutton. Now! Don’t make me use this.” She tipped her chin and gave him a defiant glare. Fat chance of that. With an unloaded gun, there would be no contest; she wouldn’t be taking him anywhere. Then he thought again. Did he really want to attend another dry board meeting with members so ancient they could barely stay awake? He folded his arms over his chest. “Where are you taking me?” He had to consider that, as cute as she was, she could be a lunatic. “Away from here. You’ll see when you get there.” She angled her head toward the door, but her eyes never left his. He could go along with the getting away part, but he’d like to know why.


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“Turn around.” “Why can’t we talk here?” “I said, turn around.” She lifted the gun and took a slow aim at his face. Her amazing eyes narrowed. “Before we do any talking, I’m tying you up and taking you out of here.” That had possibilities. Maybe he’d get his turn, too. To tie those delicate little wrists to a headboard and-“Turn around! I mean it! I didn’t come this far to have a rattlesnake like you ruin everything for me.” Her skin flushed and a sprinkle of freckles surfaced along her nose. “I swear I’ll use this and enjoy every bullet that lodges in your miserable gut.” “Okay.” He cocked a brow. Whatever was eating at her, she had to be pretty desperate to go to these lengths. “Just be careful with that thing.” He turned slowly and within minutes she had his wrists bound in a slipknot that would have made his ancestors proud. He had to be crazy to let her do this. She wrenched it tight. “Brace your legs apart and lean over.” With the butt of the gun against his back, her other hand came around his waist to pat his chest. He couldn’t let her search him. “Oh, now, darlin’, this is a good idea.” He felt her stiffen. “Be sure and check my pockets, deep.” With a disgusted grunt she stopped her search and gave him a push to turn him around, taking a few cautious steps back when he did. His fingertips grazed his back pocket and closed comfortably around the pearl casing of his folded blade. He was the only corporate executive, he was sure, who carried a jackknife in his designer trousers. If need be, it would be effortless to rip through the cord at his wrists. She went to his door and peeked out, apparently decided the coast was clear, and signaled him forward. Now what?


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She stepped aside and directed him to pass. With the gun aimed steadily at him, she cocked her head toward the elevator. When he stepped in, she ordered him to the corner. Keeping the gun trained on him with both hands, she pushed the up button with her elbow. The only thing up was the roof. What could she plan on doing there? He stared at her, his mind a herd of questions, her response a contemptuous gaze. But when he glared back, a hint of fear darkened her eyes and sweat moistened the tip of her nose. She was close. And the elevator was small enough that he could smell her. Female flesh mixed with a scent like a meadow after a good rain, a soap scent, natural, not like the expensive perfume found here in the city. The door slid open. She tilted her head. “Get out.” “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a mock grin before stepping out into the narrow hallway that led to the rooftop stairs. “Keep going.” “Look.” He turned around. “If you’re planning to throw me off the roof, I’d like to know why.” “Oh? You would? Well, let’s get something straight.” She leaned a fraction closer. “I’m in charge here. And I’ll tell you when I’m good and ready.” She wrapped two hands around the useless gun and thrust it forward. “Get moving.” All he had to do was grab the gun. But then what? Besides, how dangerous could she be if she was pulling this stunt with an unloaded gun? He took some comfort in her thinking that the risk of getting caught didn’t outweigh the chance that she might hurt somebody. And then there was the thought of being her captive. He had to admit that the idea gave him an erotic charge better than he’d had in years. “Get going!” She cocked her head and waited. When he didn’t move, she huffed, “Are you stupid or something?” He would have been irritated had he not consoled himself with what he would do to her when he was in charge. For now he decided to go along and see where it led. Out on the roof the spring breeze whipped across the rooftop. Too late she


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grabbed for the ripcord under her chin. Her hat blew right off her head and dangled down her back. He was right. Her hair was long, pulled back in thick waves at the nape of her neck and looking as soft and dark as mink. With an impatient hand, she brushed strands gone awry at the sides of her face. She motioned him to his helicopter. “Keep going, we’re getting in.” “You expect me to fly this with my wrists tied?” “I’m flying it.” “What?” “Just get in.” He gave a soft chuckle. “Okay, the shindig’s over. No way I’m letting you fly my helicopter. Even if I didn’t like it so much, I value my life.” “You think you’re the only one with skills just because you have money behind you?” “I didn’t say that.” The cloth tie holding back her hair slid off. It went flying over the side of the roof, sending her hair whipping around her face like a velvet cape. “Have you forgotten I’ve got the gun?” She slapped with frustration at tangles of long hair. He had a vision of her riding wild on a stallion, fringed jacket and long hair snapping in the wind. “I’ll fly it,” he said. “No--” “Then you’ll have to shoot me.” Her cat-eyes widened. “God, you are stupid.” She gave her head an incredulous shake. “Stupider than a hound-dog chasing a porcupine.” He almost smiled at that one. She tightened her hold on the gun and mumbled a string of what sounded like very unladylike curses. Then her eyes turned shrewd. “You don’t think I’ll shoot, do you?” He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. But you can’t get what’s bugging you off


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your chest if you shoot me, so I’ll take my chances.” “I could just maim you. I’m a good shot.” She cocked the gun and aimed it at his groin. Because he didn’t doubt it, the thought made him wince. Then he grinned. “You may be sorry if you pick that particular location.” She smirked. “Stupid and arrogant I see.” She rubbed her hand over her forehead. “Fine. You fly. But you better not try anything funny.” “Like what, darlin’? Take a dive into Lake Dallas?” “Will you get in!” She slipped in after him, gun still aimed at his head. Could she really think he would have let her get this far if the gun was loaded? “We’re flying to a small private airstrip in Ambrose. Huelings. Do you know it?” He shook his head. “Then what?” “You’ll see. Just radio the tower and give them the coordinates that I tell you. Then we’ll call the strip’s Unicom and tell them we’re going to land. Now punch your code into that electronic pad.” So, she knew her way around a gun and a helicopter. He had the feeling there was a lot more to this sexy cowgirl than met the eye. **** C.J. planned to hog-tie her idiot source in Dallas who told her Dutton was seventy-four years old. This man was half that age and big. Solid big. And as rough looking as any cowboy she’d ever known. She couldn’t believe she’d gotten this far with him. They finally arrived at Heuling’s airstrip, where they hopped a Cessna 150 that he flew to Denison. After they landed there, they immediately set out for the two-hour drive in her pickup to the small isolated cabin, abandoned since the days she and her family had been there together. Dutton, his wrists tied to the overhead handle grip, had taken to growling now as


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her truck bounced along the pitted dirt road leading high up into the hills. It had been years since she’d been here, but the same feelings squeezed her heart every time she came. As the air grew cleaner and quieter, the bluebonnets unfurled their tiny petals and tender memories of those years hunting and fishing with her father filled her. She was ten, an only child, when her small family moved up here for the summer. In the years before, she and her father spent many summer weekends swimming in Gooseneck Lake. She was thrilled that year when she learned they’d be spending the entire summer. Until she realized it was because her father was sick and could no longer work their small family ranch. That fall, after her mother kept her up here to homeschool her, they finally told her. Late the next spring, her father died. A quiet death, with little suffering, in the heart of the hills he had loved surrounded by the family he had loved even more. C.J. glanced at the tops of the rolling hills, glints of moss covered rock shimmered in the late afternoon sun. She breathed in the crisp fresh air. From the corner of her eye she could feel Dutton studying her again, no doubt memorizing her every feature to report to the police after she returned him. ’Course, it’d be the FBI he’d be reporting to since kidnapping was a federal offense. She winced at the thought and then looked at her hat on the bench seat between them. While it hid most of her face, she couldn’t exactly wear it for days, or however long it took to convince him not to buy the ranch from the vermin who was her stepfather – her ranch that he had stolen. She cast Dutton a sideways glance. “What are you looking at?” He gave a laugh. “What? It’s not enough you’ve tied my wrists to this door strap for hours, now I can’t look around either? You gonna blindfold me next?” “Not a bad idea,” she mumbled. She felt a little sorry about tying his hands, but he was just too big to trust. Stretched out now, he took up the whole cab of the truck as it was. “Why’d we come this far? There’s nothing for miles around but hills and sky.”


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She gave a snort. “Guess you’re out of your element without your shiny skyscrapers surrounding you.” “Oh, yeah. Cement. I can’t get enough of it.” He motioned to the clearing in the trees. “What’s that?” It was Gooseneck Lake but she wasn’t going to tell him that, at least not yet. Trouble was, she didn’t know what she was going to tell him. She hadn’t gotten that far. Only two things did she know. She didn’t want his pity and everything about him made her nervous. Already her plan was on shaky ground. “You’ll see what it is when we get there.” “You said that before.” “So?” “So I’m wondering when you’re going to tell me what this is about, that’s what. I’m getting tired of this and damned cranky, too. I need to get out and move around. You’ve had me cooped up in helicopters and planes and now this broken-down truck--” “We’re here.” He stopped and looked out through the dash. “Good,” he grumbled. “Let me out. I need to take a leak.” She pulled into the narrow dirt drive and around a curve. Twenty feet ahead lay the small log cabin, perched on the edge of the ragged cliff, its large front porch overlooking the lake. For the hundredth time, it took her breath away. For one sweet moment she could see her mother in blue jeans and flour-dusted T-shirt calling her and her father to dinner. She could almost taste the tang of rhubarb pie, feel its juicy red syrup drip onto her chin. She brought the truck to a slow stop. When she cut the engine, the familiar soothing quiet welcomed her and a gentle breeze rustled the birch trees. It even smelled the same. A cool bite of pine needles and brushwood. Her senses couldn’t take it all in quick enough. Two days ago, when her last certified letter to Dutton Enterprises had been refused, she was spitfire-mad and headed out immediately to make Dutton listen to her.


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At the time she hadn’t actually planned to kidnap him, but after arriving in Dallas and seeing the building, the guards, and learning about his helicopter, things had just snowballed. She had already brought one of her guns, since she’d be heading into the heart of the city. And when she called Mitch, her Air Force buddy, to tell him that she was bringing Dutton back with her, he even suggested she bring the old man out to the cabin, show him the area and explain what it meant to her. He had even offered to go up and ready it. ’Course, she hadn’t actually mentioned a kidnapping so he might have gotten the idea that old man Dutton had agreed to come with her. She pushed back a small pang of guilt. She couldn’t worry about that now. From the way the scrub had been hacked off to make a path and the porch cleared of twigs and leaves, she could tell Mitch had been here. “Well?” She spun on Dutton. “Well what?” She glowered, annoyed with him for cutting into her thoughts. He leaned toward her, making the truck’s cab even smaller than it already seemed. His body gave off a scent of tangy cologne and masculine sweat that she didn’t like. Neither did she like all the muscle and rugged good looks. He was too dangerous to look at. “You gonna cut these ropes?” he asked, his voice even rougher than he looked. “I don’t know,” she taunted. His eyes brightened. “Somebody needs to rein you in, darlin’. Teach you a lesson.” “And that would be you?” She smirked, going nose to nose with him. It was a mistake. His lips, the only soft-looking part of his body, practically touched hers, but she couldn’t back down. He was so close she could see every pore in his roughly shaven skin, and his light blue eyes darkened and burned into hers. “Oh yeah,” he growled, his breath warm on her lips. “I’d enjoy that.” She tipped her chin. “That’ll be the day!” Turning abruptly, she shoved open her


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door. Behind her, his door rattled with a vengeance and was followed by a low guttural growl. She jumped down from the cab and slammed the door behind her.

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CHAPTER THREE

Luke hadn’t had this much fun since he had run wild as a kid on his family’s large Montana ranch. This little darlin’ was a hell-cat. A snarling, fiery, sleek little feline that he’d love to curl around his body and spread out beneath him. His libido hadn’t been this charged in a long while. He smiled to himself as he stepped out of the cedar outhouse and into her little corner of God’s country. It was lucky that he’d had his cell phone tucked into his trousers and had used it in the bathroom in Ambrose, because he’d never get a signal up here. He had purposely called his office machine rather than the Board conference room knowing Ruth would return to his office looking for him. It was a short message that gave no information, telling her to cancel the meeting and not to worry about him. He’d be in touch after awhile. He had made sure to turn off his phone afterwards so he couldn’t be tracked. He breathed in the fresh air. When he looked up, she was positioned before him, worthless gun cocked and steadied. “What’s so funny?” she said. “Funny?” “You were smiling. What were you doing in there?” “Well....” He gave a soft chuckle. “If you’d like me to explain....” His hands went to his fly, catching the zip. “You know what I mean. Get your hands up.” “I thought you wanted a demonstration.” He smiled. “Very funny. Come here and put your wrists together.” “No way, darlin’. You’re not tying me up again.” He sauntered toward her.


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She backed up a pace and looked dumbfounded, straightening her aim. But without sparing her a glance, he walked right past her. She called after him. “Where are you going?” He answered over his shoulder, “To heed another call of nature – hunger.” Then he stopped and turned back to her. “Or did you think that crummy bag of chips we had back in Ambrose would tide me over?” She frowned. He could see her uncertainty about the prospect of him roaming loose. He took in the sight of her heart-shaped face and decided that she couldn’t be much more than twenty. She had tied her hair back again with some check-line she’d found in the truck, and his fingers itched to slide through the rich dark waves. She raised her chin a notch. “You’d better not try anything stupid.” “Like what? Wrestle you for the keys to your truck?” Now that was a good idea. She stiffened. Gun cocked. He moved forward with a lazy gait and watched her eyes widen. “I’ll shoot.” She raised the gun. A soft flush flooded her cheeks. He wondered if it covered her whole body. His eyes touched hers, and if he read her right, the flicker of fear he detected was mixed with the familiar female response of undisguised sexual interest. He’d seen it enough to know, even if she herself might be unaware. He let his eyes touch curves he’d been admiring all day. Her cheeks flamed. He shrugged. “Naw, I’m too hungry. I’m going to see what I can rustle up.” When he turned his back on her and headed toward the cabin, it made him smile to hear her release an audible breath. **** Luke insisted on making chili. The cabinets were stocked with enough cans of pintos and salsa, and with a few choice spices added it wouldn’t be half bad. It wouldn’t be his famous Five-Alarm recipe but it would do. While he stirred the cast iron kettle, she had posted herself at the pedestal table in the center of the cabin. Whoever made the table knew what they were doing. Though the Douglas Fur was nicked and dented, it was solid. She sat at the table, still fisting the small pistol, but she rested her hand on the


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tabletop. Her eyes strayed as he became more absorbed in his cooking. She didn’t realize that what really absorbed him was her. It was an effort to take his eyes off her. Still, he forced himself to take stock of his situation. While the outside of the cabin had clearly fallen into disrepair, the inside had recently been dusted and aired. The rustic furniture was threadbare but clean as were the thick braided rugs covering the planked floorboards. The blue checkered curtains in the kitchen were faded almost to white, and the crockery along the counter was chipped. This place looked like home. He wondered if this was her home. He stole a glance her way. Unaware he was watching her, she stared at an elk head that hung above the woodstove. He saw longing in those intense brown eyes and a sadness that pulled down the corners of her mouth. She must have felt his eyes on her because she startled like a spooked colt, ready to bolt. She tightened her hold on the gun, her small body rigid, waiting. He made her nervous, that much he knew, but so far he knew little else. He met her with a steady gaze. When she narrowed her eyes and mumbled something under her breath, he almost smiled. He couldn’t resist taunting her, because for all her bluster, he had the feeling she was rethinking her little kidnapping stunt. When she lowered the gun again, he shot her a disgusted glare. “You know all hell must be breaking loose right about now with my having disappeared this long.” She rolled her eyes. “Why? You’re such a big shot?” “Well,”--he grinned--“yeah.” “Well, bully for you.” She shot up from the table and walked to the picture window overlooking the porch. She stuffed the gun in her belt and then stripped off her jacket and flung it at a galvanized tub tucked in the corner. He made a mental note to check the basin’s contents later for a supply of wood. But for now he allowed himself to take in the shape of her breasts, high and firm and small under the white western shirt. The pastel embroidered flowers along the yoke rested along the top swell of her breasts, soft and feminine, so at-odds with the scowl on her face. He smiled. And then his eyes dropped to the curve of her bottom, snug in her Levis.


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He’d always liked sex, but damn if this girl couldn’t get him hard by just looking at her fully-clothed. Glints of light winked off her belt as the setting sun streamed through the window and cast a warm glow over the golden oak furniture. He had recognized the buckle’s pony and seed bead design as distinctive of the Nez Perce Indians. He pictured unclasping it and sliding the soft worn denim down her thighs. Instead, he filled two stoneware bowls with chili and brought them to the table. She glanced over to where he sat, then returned her gaze to stare out the window, seemingly lost in her thoughts. This was the longest amount of time she’d half-turned her back on him. Ravenous, he dug into the beans. The quick movement must have caught her eye, because she whipped around, gun poised and ready to shoot. ’Course, she’d have to find bullets first. He looked up from his bowl. “What? You plan on starving me, too? I still don’t know what I’ve done to get you so riled up.” Her shoulders sagged a bit and for the first time she looked almost contrite. She stuffed the gun back in her belt and in the same self-conscious gesture she had used twice before, she readjusted her ponytail, slipping it out of the tie and then pulling it through again. It was driving him crazy to see all that hair that he couldn’t touch. She took the gun out from her waist again but kept it lowered as she walked slowly toward the table. When she got there, he was disappointed that she slid her bowl down to the other end. He wanted her close. Close enough to taste, but he’d settle now for inhaling her scent. Still watching him, she placed the pistol on the table alongside her bowl. She had to be hungry, too. He decided to stop staring at her for a while and give her a break so she could eat. Maybe if she relaxed her guard a little, she’d finally tell him what this was about. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her pick up the spoon with her right hand, leaving her left to rest atop the gun. She gingerly tasted the chili, one eye trained on him.


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With the first taste, her eyes closed, and she sighed. He hid a smile when she scooped up the second spoonful quicker and then soon lost interest in watching him. The day’s events had to have drained her, and they’d hardly eaten anything. Just some trail mix from her backpack and some water and chips they’d picked up from a machine at the airfield. He was beginning to wonder if she’d actually planned much of this or if she just went with her impulses. The thought intrigued him. He wondered what she’d be like in bed. Her eyelids grew heavy as she closed her lips around the spoon and slowly sucked, savoring the spicy sauce. She was a sensualist. He had seen it earlier in the way she had breathed in the air and now in the way she tasted her food. He wanted her in his bed. Every sensual impulsive piece of her. He dragged his eyes away from her mouth and dove into his own food, thinking about the possibilities. He grabbed a corn muffin from the basket in front of him and dipped it in the chili sauce. They were pretty fresh, which told him that someone had just been here, because the generator that he noticed by the shed out back was turned off. Although they’d have no electrical power while they were here, he noticed plenty of candles. And if the propane tank outside was even a quarter full they’d have enough fuel for cooking. He tilted his chair back on its legs and let his eyes drift around the room. At this elevation, the nights could get cold. But the wood stove was a good size and there was plenty of fallen timber outside. He looked at the two closed doors along the wall and assumed they were bedrooms. He wondered how long it would take him to get her to invite him into her bed. “I couldn’t let you vote at that board meeting.” He raised a surprised brow but continued to lounge back. She had finished eating and was sitting with her back straight, her left fingers still curled lightly around the gun but resting on the table. “Why?” She stood slowly and began to pace. “I might not have taken you if ....” She shrugged and hooked her thumbs in her belt loops. He noted her deliberate avoidance of the word kidnap and that the gun had been forgotten on the table. “Well, if you’d just


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given me some response. But to have my land stolen, and then to have worked so hard to save every dime to get it back only to have you saunter in and rip the rug out from--” “Whoa....”Luke dropped his chair down. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She stopped, her look suspect. “The Wilson ranch and the surrounding property. You convinced my stepfather”--she practically hissed the word--“that there was oil to be found. That turned our deal on its head. He was no longer interested in the piddly amount I offered, although it stuck in my craw to offer even that.” She took up her agitated pacing again, brushing hair from her face in earnest. He decided he’d get more information out of her if he let her talk without interruption, but his mind raced to recall the Wilson land she’d mentioned. “I thought maybe if you understood a few things, you’d stop and reconsider, but you wouldn’t give me a chance.” She stopped pacing a minute and looked at him with a defensive glance. “Go on,” he said, his voice low. “That land has been in my family for generations. When my father died, there was only me and my mother, but we did okay.” She lifted a shoulder. “We still had the horses, and we rented parcels of land out to cattle ranchers and share croppers so we could pay the taxes. My father had always handled things himself so it was hard for my mother, because she didn’t understand the workings of it like I did. I had planned on working the ranch myself when I got older.” She turned away, looking suddenly deflated, and stuffed her hands deep in her pockets. “Anyway, all that changed when he came along.” He, no doubt, was her stepfather. “They were married, he and my mother, so when she died the next year he inherited everything.” A year later? That didn’t sound right to Luke. And wouldn’t her mother have drawn up a will before marrying, making sure she provided for her daughter?


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“How did your mother die?” She looked surprised by his question. Then her eyes darkened. He saw the gathering fury. “An accident, but I never believed it.” She spat out the words. “What did the authorities say--” “It doesn’t matter what they said. They weren’t there that whole year while I watched him sneak around, seeing what he could uncover. He was too interested in my mother’s finances, looking over documents he had no business in.” “But your mother must have trusted him.” “My mother was sweet and generous, never said a bad word about anyone, ever. And she was too worried about taking care of me and losing the ranch to question when a serpent-tongued charmer came around to rescue her.” She threw her head back and gave a soft whistle. “And he was a charmer, all right.” She cocked a hip, hands at her waist. “All fancy talk and sissy clothes. Even his car was impressive, a shiny Cadillac. Had everybody fooled.” She waved a hand. “Even our minister. But not me.” She poked a finger at him. “I saw right through him from day one.” “Maybe you just loved your father too much to--” She stomped to the table. “Haven’t you been listening?” Her eyes flared. “I was young,”--she flattened her palms on the table and leaned in--“but not stupid.” He calmly met her gaze. “How young?” She blinked, and then froze. A trace of tension seeped from her slight body. Then she pushed away from the table. “Fourteen,” she said. “Too old to stand by and let him use my mother.” Just a kid, he thought, with no father and with a mother she worried over. The minister apparently was no help. He wondered about any living relatives. “What did you do?” She gave a shrug. “Everything. And got myself in deep trouble each time. My mother said she didn’t recognize the daughter that she’d raised.” She yanked the tie out of her hair, twisting it around her fingers and then unwinding it with a snap, only to repeat


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the gesture in the next beat. In the meantime, her hair flowed over her shoulders like a waterfall running down her back. “It was all a big waste anyway.” She went over to the window again and peered out. “My mother was killed by him soon after, and then he started in on me.” Luke went rigid, but forced himself to stay put and wait for her to say more. She turned back to him and lifted her chin. “I’m only telling you this so you understand why this is so important to me.” She walked with slow deliberate steps to the table and sat down opposite him. “He didn’t hurt me. I wouldn’t let him. But I ended up in juvenile facilities until I was eighteen. “When I finally got out, I struck a deal with him. I knew he didn’t care about the ranch. He just wanted money. But now with Dutton Enterprises interested, thinking there’s oil on the land, which there isn’t.” She gave a disgusted look. “And if you guys weren’t so stupid and would just listen to me, you’d know it’s fool’s oil.” Luke finally put the pieces together. The land she referred to was the useless tract his inept cousin, Ted, proposed they look into, though everyone else thought the idea crazy. Luke had let him explore the proposal anyway. Luke’s father had offered his brother, Luke’s Uncle Harold, along with his son Ted positions on the Board of Directors of the new division in the hopes that they’d finally have some success. When Luke’s grandfather died, and his two sons inherited his copper mining fortune, Luke’s father had gone on to triple that fortune within ten years while Luke’s Uncle Harold squandered his with bad investments and sloppy accounting practices. Luke’s cousin Ted did the same with the trust left to him, while Luke started a cable company at the age of twenty-one. Just a few years ago, bored with it all, Luke finally sold it to the largest telecommunications network in the industry for a profit that would last him ten lifetimes. It had to have been Ted that she claimed refused to answer her inquiries. He should assure her now that she needn’t have kidnapped him. He wouldn’t have voted to buy that land anyway. But he wouldn’t tell her. Because then she’d have no need to hold him hostage. And he definitely wasn’t ready to go home.


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He leaned into the table a little as she sat across from him, but not close enough to spook her. “Who you calling stupid?” “You.” Her eyes brightened. He had the feeling this little doll liked a good fight. And he was more than ready to scuffle with her. “That’s your way of getting me to change my mind?” he said, his voice low. He leaned a fraction closer. “And you’re calling me stupid?” C.J. didn’t like him this close. He was too handsome. Too sure of himself. And something in the rough sound of his voice made her insides turn warm and liquid in a way that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Her attraction to him was fast becoming a problem and she’d only been with him for ten hours. And he was right. She was supposed to be getting him to back off the land deal, not trying to raise his hackles for a fight. Her eyes dropped to his lips, full and soft, such a stark contrast to the five-o’clock shadow running along his jaw and neck. “Well....” She drew back a bit and cleared her throat. “Given the right incentives, you just might change your mind.” He lifted a bored brow. “And what would those incentives be?” He leaned back again in his chair. She ignored the innuendo in his voice. “You tell me. Everybody wants something.” He didn’t answer. He just continued to study her with eyes bluer than a summer sky, annoyingly confident. She cocked her head. “’Course, you have everything, don’t you?” He watched her calmly, tilting his chair back as though he had all the time in the world. He probably did. “You have all the money you probably need for a zillion lifetimes, and power, position, prestige. You probably even have a great girlfriend. Rich, cultured, beautiful ...


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perfect.” She practically bit out the words. His lips curled in amusement. “Don’t you?” She felt like an idiot. An idiot who couldn’t stop herself. But the thought infuriated her. He infuriated her. This whole mess had brought her over the edge and it was all his fault. “Well? Do you?” He gave a slow grin. “Well ... yeah.” She shoved back her chair. “Big surprise.” She ran both hands through her scalp and shook out her hair. She yanked it back again into the tie. She couldn’t believe she’d asked him about the girlfriend. She was his adversary, for Pete’s sake. She was pitiful, completely pitiful. “Look ...” She huffed out a breath. “Just because you have everything in your perfect life doesn’t mean we can’t strike a deal. If you think hard, you might come up with something we can bargain with. At any rate....” – she stood slowly and crept toward the gun, left at the other end of the table. How stupid was she for leaving it there? Nothing was stopping him from racing her for it and then taking her truck back down the hill. She burned with embarrassment at the thought of him discovering the gun was unloaded. When she reached the table’s end, she snatched it up. “At any rate,” she continued, “you’re not going anywhere until you come up with something.” For all her clever maneuvering, he seemed not to notice or even care. He was remarkably calm for a man who faced down the barrel of a gun. Even so, she reinforced her demand by training the gun on him once again. He didn’t flinch. She’d have to make sure she got him tied up soon, too. “Just how much are you willing to give?” he asked, his voice low and seductive, ignoring the gun. She wanted to say that she’d give just about anything to get her ranch back, but she didn’t. His easy confidence unnerved her. Keeping the upper hand with men was key.


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She hadn’t spent six years in the Air Force without learning something. “It depends,” she said. “I’m open to creative options.” Although, other than the obvious that most men wanted, she couldn’t imagine what she could offer him. Nothing she had equaled the value of a large tract of land. “Okay.” He rocked his chair, balancing it with his long legs. “Okay, what?” “I’m willing to be creative.” He locked his hands behind his head, looking pleased with himself. “Must be something we can negotiate ... if we think hard enough.” She couldn’t believe it had been this easy. Why? She grew instantly suspicious. She had nothing and he knew it. Just what was his game? Yup, she’d definitely need to tie him up again. She glanced down at her unloaded gun, hoping he’d cooperate this time. Because if he even suspected that this stupid gun was unloaded, it was all over.


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CHAPTER FOUR

C.J. awoke with a start. Something was wrong. She tensed, listening for the sound of trouble. The shadow of blue light filtering around the cabin told her it was almost dawn, so it was too late in the morning for the cabin to feel this warm. By about 3:30 a.m. the fire should have burned down to glowing coals and the chill that always followed should have awakened her to gather more wood to feed the embers. Unless someone had already stoked the fire. She threw back the covers and tugged on her boots. Without making a sound, she grabbed her gun and padded to the open door and looked out. The front room was empty. A soft glow flickered through the draft regulator of the old potbelly stove. It was impossible for the fire to have lasted this long. A quick glance out the windows at the pines silhouetted against the sky told her it was a least 5:00 a.m. She moved quietly to the adjacent room and peeked in. His large body was sprawled across the double bed, but his wrists were still tied to the sides of the metal frame holding the box spring, just the way she’d left him last night. He had been amazingly compliant when at gunpoint she ordered him to the bed to be tied up. A glint of mischief sparked his blue eyes, immediately drawing her suspicion. But he had complied, nevertheless, despite the sexy grin on his face as he lay prostrate before her while she bent over him securing the knots. She hated to bind both hands, so she left enough play in the rope that he could shift a little while he slept. And by the looks of him, he had. His thick hair was tousled and his neatly pressed dress shirt was wrinkled and the buttons popped open to the waist. The crisp white cotton bunched around his belt. His


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trousers looked no better. Except that the silky charcoal fabric now clung to his thighs, hugging every impressive muscle and accentuating the ample bulge beneath his zipper. She dragged her eyes away, but they soon strayed to his calves, bared by his hiked-up pants. He had managed to take off his shoes and those fancy pretty-boy trouser socks he wore. She drew in a soft breath and lowered the gun. Even his feet looked too sexy by half. Strong and lean with silky dark blond hair dusting the knuckles. Everything about him screamed testosterone. This entire ordeal would have been a lot easier had he been 74 years old. She moved up alongside the bed. He grunted and moaned, twisting at his restraints, the movement stretching his shirt open to reveal the smooth bronzed chest beneath. A light mat of hair sprinkled along honed muscle to whirl around his navel. She frowned. That body just didn’t fit a corporate executive type. She leaned in for a closer look. And then noticed the tiny flecks of ash on his dark trousers. Her mind raced through the possibilities as she dropped down to double check the knots. A second later, she was scooped up, her back plastered to a hard chest and wrapped tight by powerful arms that pinned hers to her side. She groaned aloud. “The first thing we’re gonna do, little darlin’, is get rid of that gun.” He yanked it from her hand. She was paralyzed. His body held hers in a vise grip impossible to break. While his breath tickled her ear lobe, her mind scrambled for an escape. “And then we’ll find another use for this rope of yours.” She gulped. “What do you plan on doing with it?” “Mmm....” his voice was a low rumble in her ear. “I’ll think of something ... creative.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Look, let’s be reasonable about this.” In one quick movement he flipped her onto her back on the mattress, pinning her


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under his weight. “Wait,” she choked. He crawled up her body, anchoring her legs down with his knees and then gripped both her wrists between his one hand. With the other hand he started wrapping the rope around her wrists. She had to think fast. “Look,” she stammered. “I know you’re mad, furious probably, but ... but we can work this out.” He reached above her head with the rope and pulled. Her arms shot up over her head as he anchored her wrists to the headboard. She squirmed and kicked. “I can’t believe this.” “Just givin’ you a taste of what it’s like to be tied up.” “I wasn’t this rough with you.” “Two hours with my wrists tied to the door handle of the truck? You’re lucky I don’t gag you, too.” She tried kicking him, but he grabbed her ankles. “Ah, now darlin’,” he purred, “you shouldn’t have done that ‘cause now I’m gonna have to tie your legs too.” “You wouldn’t,” she breathed. His hands tightened around her ankles and his eyes brightened. “Please?” She tried to appeal to his sense of fairness. Surely he had some. “You’re used to negotiating. You run a large company. You’re intelligent, inventive. We can work this out.” He didn’t look like he was even listening. Her breasts stretched across her shirt and strained at the pearl snaps. He looked like he was begging them to pop. She used his distraction to level a strategic jerk with her knee to his groin but missed by an inch. He jumped off the bed and scowled at her. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna enjoy this,” he growled, winding the rope around his hands and then making a dive for her ankles. She leveled frantic kicks and screamed but he managed to grab both her ankles


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and wind the rope tight. “Do you know you could be hanged for this?” She jerked her head up and watched him tie both ankles to a bedpost. “Wait until I tell the police how you trespassed on my land and then assaulted me.” He looked up from tying and paused, his thick lashes blinking. “You kidnapped me.” “Technically, yes, but they’d never believe you. Think about it.” With a final pull, he secured one ankle and then took the other ankle and started tying it to the opposite bedpost. When he was done he turned to listen to her while she lay spread-eagled before him. But at least she had his attention. “Think about it. How could I possibly have kidnapped you? You easily double me in size.” Her eyes trailed down the solid wall of his chest. To her horror, he stripped off his shirt and mopped his brow with it. “Oh, yeah, I’m buildin’ a sweat just thinking about what I’m going to do to you.” He dropped his hundred-dollar shirt onto the floor, and then raked both hands through his hair, drawing her attention to rippling biceps. His pants slipped lower on his hips. She dragged her eyes away from the silky line of hair disappearing under the waistband. “Look--” Her words caught in her throat as he dropped beside her. He flattened his hands on either side of her hips, surrounding her with all that male flesh. “Go on,” he said, his voice warm and smoky. She didn’t like the way this conversation was going, or the predatory look in his eyes. But she couldn’t believe he’d actually hurt her. He hadn’t just crawled out from under a rock. Surely he realized the consequences if he went through with his threats. Didn’t he? He leaned in closer, his mouth inches from hers. He taunted her by blowing gently across her lips, a warm breath, sweet and minty. The realization startled her. It took her a few moments to put it all together, but then it hit her. “You’ve been untied all night!” She lunged at him but her restraints yanked her


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back. “You got up to tend the fire and were poking around in things you had no business in.” “Like what?” Only a trace remained of the dark stubble that yesterday evening shadowed his face clear down to his collarbone. “You cleaned up. Who knows what else you did while I slept. Stolen from me, burned down--” “You slept like a baby,” he drawled. “I could have butchered an elk into T-bones right in your kitchen and you wouldn’t have known.” The thought that he might have watched her while she slept unnerved her. He pushed off the bed, the gun in his hand. “First things first.” She closed her eyes and moaned, waiting for his reaction to the unloaded gun. But when she opened her eyes, he was gone. She craned her neck. Through the bedroom doorway she saw him fling open the outside door and bound down the porch steps. When he got to the edge of the cliff, he reared back and tossed the gun over. In her mind, she could see the pistol soaring through the air and then plunking into the deep depths of the Gooseneck Lake. For a moment she paused, stunned. And then she sank back against the pillows and breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t sorry to see that miserable gun go, miserable useless gun. She just couldn’t imagine why he’d done it. Before she could catch her breath, he strode back looking wild and unpredictable, his eyes intent on her, looking nothing like the corporate head of a major conglomerate. She suddenly wondered if he was an imposter. My God, what if she had kidnapped the wrong man? He stood towering over her. “Now....”His lips tipped up into a wicked grin. “Where were we?” Without the gun she suddenly felt safer. Even though she had known it was useless, he hadn’t. And apparently he didn’t want to risk anyone getting hurt. Her confidence returned. “We’re nowhere, you jerk. You got my weapon and you’re so dumb, you just threw it away.”


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For a moment, he looked about to laugh, but then his eyes quickly darkened. “Oh, but I have this,” he said, his voice smooth and low as he reached deep into his back pocket. He pulled out a scrimshaw pocketknife and flipped open the blade. Her eyes widened. “Where’d you get that?” “If you had frisked me when you first took me hostage, you would have felt it in my pocket.” The edge of the blade caught in the dawn light and gleamed bright. “And darlin’, I gotta tell you, I wouldn’t have minded a bit being frisked by you.” He eased down on the bed beside her, his gaze frankly sexual. “Now....”He drew the blade to her face and with a gentle nudge lifted her chin with the pointed tip. She held her breath. His eyes moved over her face and then down her throat, the flat end of the blade following the path of his eyes. “Mmm...,” he murmured, “skin as smooth as butter.” The blade slipped along her collarbone and over the small triangle of skin exposed by her open top to come to rest on the second snap. He slid the blade between fabric and metal and it popped. He did the same thing with the second snap. Her blouse gaped, revealing the trim of her lace bra. She twisted away but to no avail. With her arms pulled taut over her head and her breasts thrust up, she felt completely helpless and exposed. Although not nearly as exposed as she’d feel if he stripped her, which it looked like he might do. She wouldn’t beg or plead. But she prayed. And she struggled to think of something she could say, anything to stop him. “Yellow-bellied coward!” It just slipped out. She nearly cursed herself for her own stupidity. His head snapped back to hers. Luke suppressed a bark of laughter. She was tied up, probably 100 pounds with her boots on, and miles from civilization and she was as brazen as a deer off-season. Would anything intimidate her? He couldn’t figure if she was the bravest little thing he’d ever met or just too


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impulsive to keep her mouth shut. Probably a little of both. “Coward, huh?” He lifted a thick curl with the knife and wrapped it around the blade. He drew it to his face and breathed deep. Honeysuckle. He wanted to devour her. Instead, he bore down on her. “Who you callin’ coward?” He breathed in her scent. Lord, he wanted to kiss her. But if he was incapable of intimidating her now, he’d be putty in her hands if she sensed how much he wanted her. She glared at him. “It’s easy for you to be tough when I’m tied up. You wouldn’t have a chance in a real test of wits.” Her cat eyes shone. “Oh?” His lips whispered across hers. “Is that right?” She swallowed. He followed the movement with his eyes. All she had to do was turn her face from his, but she didn’t. He suddenly wondered if she sensed the sexual electricity between them. Maybe she wanted him to kiss her. He dropped his lips to hers and pressed gently. She bit him. “Damn it!” He jerked, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. In an instant his lips swelled and blood dripped onto the swell of her breasts. Jesus, she’d drawn blood. She looked more stunned than him. He picked his shirt off the floor and wiped his bloody mouth. “That does it.” He reached into his pocket and dangled the keys from one finger. “How did you get those?” she asked on a shocked breath. He grinned at her. “Like I said. You slept like a baby. Those jeans hug every curve so tight, it was a real pleasure slipping these from your pocket.” She blushed scarlet. A gesture so at odds with her bold posturing. It had been a long while since he’d seen a woman blush and the sight warmed his blood. He let his gaze wash over her. Her ultra feminine bra under all that sass surprised him, too. Ivory lace. He wondered about matching panties under her worn Levi’s. He stood and headed for the door.


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“Wait,” she choked. He kept on walking. “Don’t leave me like this.” When he didn’t turn back and instead slammed the door behind him, she let loose a string of expletives unfit for civilized ears. He chuckled and went straight to the drawer in the kitchen that held a disposable freeze bag. When he found it, he crushed it in his hand and felt the crystals turn cold. He pressed it against his lip and then leaned back against the counter. He had no intention of leaving her here, or of leaving at all, but he could make her sweat a little.


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CHAPTER FIVE

C.J. listened for the sound of the engine starting, but other than the slide of drawers opening and the squeak of the pantry door, she heard nothing. He hadn’t left the house. She gave her bonds a good tug. Nothing. She tried extending her fingers and curling her nails into the ropes, but he was no dope about knots. There was no way she’d get out of this hold. How could she have gotten herself into such a mess? What was she thinking by kidnapping him and holding him hostage? And since she’d stolen his helicopter at gunpoint with him in it, she supposed she could add hijacking, too. If she got out of this without him pressing charges it would be a miracle. She had to start thinking and stop her stupid impulses. If she got another chance to reason with him, she’d try to reach some compromise. He had talked about being open to creative negotiations. She could do that. She’d just have to keep her head. A half hour later, he walked through the bedroom door in a worn pair of Levis just an inch or so too short and a navy T-shirt stretched over his broad chest. Her father’s clothes. Of course he would find them. The day after her father died, her mother had abandoned the cabin, too heartbroken to return. She eyed him warily as he approached the bed, silently relieved that he hadn’t abandoned her. He eased down beside her. She glanced around for any sign of the knife but found none. She looked up into eyes bluer than the lake outside and cautioned herself to say nothing and just wait. “Have you had some time to think about the error of your ways?” he asked, his


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voice low. “Yes.” He lifted a surprised brow. “I’ve been thinking--” “That’s a first.” She refused to be baited. “Thinking about your idea of negotiating something creative.” “I’ll bet you have.” “I’d like to try.” “How do I know I can trust you?” He leaned in close. The tiny cut on his lip was visible. “I’m sorry I bit you.” And she truly was. She didn’t know why she had done it, because just milliseconds before his lips met hers her heart was pounding at the thought of his mouth on hers. “I’m glad your lip didn’t swell up.” “I iced it.” His eyes dropped to her lips. “But it’s still sore. Prove to me I can trust you by soothing it.” “By doing what?” she breathed. The air between them grew thick. His eyes grew darker. “Run your tongue over the cut and soothe it.” Her heart hammered in her chest. He leaned in a fraction closer. “Or you could bite me again and really maim me this time.” His eyes flicked down her throat and his voice grew husky. “We could continue this or ...” He inched so close that their breaths mingled and she could see every pore in his rough skin. “We could call a truce and work something out so we both win, like mature adults.” She took a breath. “I like the second choice.” “Prove it.” Her eyes moved over his lips. “That’s not necessary. You have my word.” “Your word? I don’t know you enough to trust your word. I need proof that as soon as I untie you and turn my back that you won’t knock me unconscious with the heel


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of your boot.” She opened her mouth to argue but then shut it. He had a point. “Or you might take me on a walk to discuss things and then throw me off that cliff.” “Don’t be stupid.” “There you go again,” he said, an amused glint in his eye. “Blurting things out that you have no way of taking back. That’s what I’m afraid of.” “If I say you can trust me, you can. Just give me a chance.” He cocked his head. “So, if I give you my lip, you won’t bite me?” Why did he keep coming back to that? The truth is, she didn’t trust herself to touch his lips, but not for the reasons he was thinking. “I promise.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. The soft warm feel of him kicked up her senses and heated her blood. “Lick it.” Her heart skipped at the erotic suggestion and the moment her tongue swept over his lower lip, her pulse pounded in her ears. “Mmm,” he murmured. “That feels better. Keep going.” He closed his eyes and seemed to relax. Now would be the perfect time to take a good chunk out of his tender lip, but the feel of her tongue sliding over his smooth warm flesh overrode all thought. A tiny moan escaped her throat before she could stifle it. He shifted and opened his mouth, touching his tongue to hers. It was like fire licking fire. Her startled gasp allowed him to slip into her mouth. His hands cradled her head as he slid his tongue along hers in a light teasing touch, restrained in its gentleness but erotically suggestive. She wanted more. She reached up to grab him by his shirt to drag him closer but was yanked back by her bonds. She wanted to scream in frustration. He covered her wrists with one hand as if to remind her that he was in charge and slid the other down over her hip and along


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her leg. A rush of blood pooled in her groin. She should have been horrified. But his hand burned through the denim and then moved around her thigh closer to where she throbbed. She moaned in his mouth. He suddenly stopped. When he raised his head he looked as fevered as she felt. “I like you out of control,” he said. His gaze lingered on her lips. Then he eased himself up and merely looked at her for a long moment. She was acutely aware of how she was spread out and bound, completely at his mercy. His eyes dropped to her gaping blouse. He cleared his throat. “What’s your name?” It took her a minute to realize how absurd it was that she was tied up and kissing a stranger who didn’t even know her name. “C.J.” He gave a small frown. “That’s not a name, they’re initials.” “Well, that’s all you’re getting.” He grinned, as though having stumbled onto some private treasure. “It’s something cute, isn’t it? Like Cissy Jo, or Crissy Jane.” He smiled and tipped her chin up with one finger. “I’ll bet it’s Calamity Jane, isn’t it?” “Very funny. Now let me go. I proved that you can trust me.” He looked at her long and hard. And then he finally started untying her wrists. “Yeah, I guess so, but what I’m wondering is, can you trust yourself?”


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CHAPTER SIX

After breakfast, when Luke suggested that they consider their options over a fishing pole, there was no mistaking the little light that lit C.J.’s face before she caught herself and the scowl returned. “You know anything about fishing?” she asked. “Sure,” he said, not about to offer that he was Montana’s current fly-fishing champion. Out in the small shed he watched her rummage through crates and barrels until she came up with two poles. One looked like a rusty old Fenwick and the other a Pflueger. She popped off the heads and lubricated the gears. Then she snapped open a tackle box and searched through an impressive assortment of lures, flies, and dipseys, and enough hooks to catch just about anything fresh. “Where do you use those?” he asked, pointing to a collection of flies, knowing they wouldn’t be using them today since fly-fishing took open reels. She motioned down the side of the mountain. “You can fly-fish in the creek. You make these guys jump and skip along the water’s surface and the fish think they’re flies and go for them.” “You’ve done it?” “Sure.” She shrugged. “My dad taught me. We used to wade far out in that creek until our feet near froze off.” She turned the flies over in her palm, her expression wistful. “We never caught much. A little dinner now and then, but it didn’t matter.” “Are we fly-fishing today?” She gave him a glance and then looked him up and down as though assessing whether he’d measure up. She lifted a shoulder. “We need hip boots and the ones here are


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rotted. We’ll just fish in the lake and hopefully catch a little dinner.” She snapped the box closed. “Besides,” she mumbled, “they’d barely reach your kneecaps.” He smiled to himself. Before she could lift the heavy metal, he snatched it up. “I can carry that.” “I’m sure you can,” he assured her, lifting it nonetheless and heading out. He liked that she found his size intimidating. He probably liked it because there was little else she did find threatening. And he sensed their attraction was mutual. It made him eager to test the waters, though keeping in mind that he’d spook her if his timing wasn’t right. During their long hike down the rocky slope of the small mountain, he enjoyed the site of her cute bottom leading the way. She hiked silently the way a person does who is familiar with the wild, carefully observing her environment, not wanting to scare away potential prey. He breathed deep the woody scent of moss and bark and the early morning dew that hadn’t yet burned off from the leafy birch trees. Luke couldn’t have felt more at home than he did here. When they reached the clearing, Gooseneck Lake spread out before them, sparkling in an overhead sun that was quickly warming the cool mountain air. Ripples of water circled out from center dollops as fish poked up trying to catch insects that hovered above. The peaceful hum of birds chorused around them. They perched along the sloping bank, quickly settling their gear around them. She had stuffed a Henry Survival Rifle into her pack that he couldn’t picture her handling. Even though it broke down to 16”, it packed the same punch as an 8 round semi-automatic. Luke had a Henry Big Boy Magnum himself. The centerfire rifle was his favorite. “You know how to shoot that thing?” he asked as she unloaded it and started snapping it together. “Sure.” She looked down its barrel and frowned. “Needs a good cleaning, but it’ll do,” she said, quickly loading it.


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“Do for what?” They both stopped, stock still. Silently they turned to see a white-tail deer pop its head up and then take off up the hill. Without missing a beat, she straightened and shot with a smooth slick action that told him she’d done it a hundred times. The deer went down. A clean shot to the throat. She grinned. “Dinner.” He gave a laugh and smiled at her. “Nice job.” She smiled back. For a moment he thought that he’d do anything to be rewarded with that sweet smile again. But then she turned abruptly and poked around in her bag, pulling out a couple of long blades in leather pouches. “Come on, I’ll show you how to gut a deer. It’s only a four pointer, but it’ll be tender meat.” “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at her. He wondered what she’d think when she saw the rows of trophy bull lining his walls in his Montana lodge and his coyote rug draping the fireplace. He had a sudden urge to take her there. Not that it would ever happen. Still, he knew she’d get a kick out of his ranch. “What are you looking at?” “You.” Luke watched her squirm, wishing he had his Cabela hunting binoculars to train on that sprinkle of freckles. For all her toughness, it didn’t take much to get her blushing. He imagined the rosy tinge that traveled down her throat covered the swell of her breasts. He wondered what her nipples looked like. “You coming or are you squeamish about cutting up that little buck?” He gave her a grin. “I’ll survive,” he said and followed her up the hill. **** As soon as they skinned and gutted the deer, they packed some meat in plastic pouches C.J. had brought. They left the rest for scavengers. She steered them toward a spot beneath an old oak at the lake that would offer shade no matter what time of day. She submerged the deer meat in the lake water to keep it cold. Then they shucked off their boots, rolled up their pant legs and shirtsleeves, and cleaned up in the lake water before settling down to fish. As soon as they emerged from the creek, she kicked over a


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rotting log and hunted for worms, coming up with an impressive pile of blood worms. Luke pretended frustration over baiting his hook, to the point of pricking his finger for emphasis. C.J. gave him a long-suffering sigh and then came over to help him. As she sat next to him, head bent over the hook, she started to explain to him how important it was to spear the worm so that it held. Her hair smelled of honeysuckle and rain, and the urge to bury his lips in the soft waves was irresistible. He wished for just a moment she would let down her guard. He moved closer, brushing his leg with hers. Feigning interest in how she was leading the line, he touched his fingers to hers, smoothing the tips of his fingers over her knuckles. In a casual move that didn’t fool him, she eased back, but he just moved in closer so that his breath fanned her forehead and his body heat surrounded her. Expelling a little breath, she held the hook up. “There, done.” She picked up the rod. “Do you know how to cast?” “Show me.” She practically rolled her eyes at that one before she jumped up to show him. With practiced ease, she arched back and cast the line smack into the deep center of the lake. Smiling with satisfaction, she handed the rod’s handle to him. “Do you think you can take over from here?” “I’ll try.” Luke gave her an amused frown and then skimmed his knuckles along her delicate jaw. C.J. pulled back. He didn’t know why he spooked her so easily. You would think she’d try to get on his good side if her aim was to convince him not to buy her land. He sat along the bank. As she picked up her rod he studied her profile. The gentle slope of her nose ended in a little lift atop lips too full for such a small face. She dropped down beside him. The flush that she couldn’t seem to control crept up into her cheeks. She slid him a glance. “Memorizing my features so you can describe them to the FBI sketch artist?” He smiled. “Something like that.” And then he laughed at her stricken expression.


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God, she was tense, no doubt because she was slowly realizing the ramifications of what she had done. He could use that to his advantage. He leaned back against the tree and cradled his pole between his legs, it’s handle levered against the bank. “So what kind of trade did you have in mind?” he asked, “that would make it worth my while to forget about your land?” She shifted uneasily and gave her line a jerk. “Well, I know you have all the money you need ... besides which I have practically none.” She gave a little sigh. “I know a few things that are valuable like flying and horseback-riding, but you already know how to fly and I doubt you’d care to learn to ride a horse, bareback or otherwise.” “You ride a lot?” Her face softened. “I used to.” She turned to him. “I have the ribbons to prove it.” Then she looked a little embarrassed and turned her attention back to her line. “My father had me on a horse as soon as I was three.” Luke’s father had done the same. He wondered how long it had been since she’d ridden. He couldn’t imagine going any length of time without riding. Once it was in your blood, it was impossible to kick. What would she think if she knew he had a stable of prize thoroughbreds? It didn’t take much to get her talking. He could easily picture her pleasure at besting half the boys in her county. He pictured her riding gracefully atop a stallion, her legs spread over its back. Lucky horse. His line jerked. C.J. jumped up. “You got something.” Luke grabbed his pole and started reeling it in. “That’s it,” she coached, leaning into him. “Nice and easy. You don’t want to lose him.” He jerked hard. “No.” She grabbed onto the pole. He let her ease in front of him and clasp her hands next to his, steadying the rod while he encircled her with his arms, her back touching his chest. He slowed down. “Like this?” he said, leaning into her, his lips


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brushing her hair while he slowly reeled in his catch. She nodded. She smelled delicious. He pressed his groin against her backside. A little hitch caught in her breath. And then what looked like a bass, maybe a ten pounder, dangled on the end of his line. “Oh.” She gave a little jump of excitement and slapped his forearms. “Look. It’s a big one. I think a bass. A large mouth.” She laughed and grabbed onto his wrists. “Come on, Luke, reel it in.” He smiled into her hair, not knowing what pleased him more – hearing his name fall so easily from her lips or seeing her excitement. He couldn’t remember seeing a female so excited over anything that didn’t involve diamonds. When the catch reached her, he was reluctant to let her go, but she leaned forward, snagging it up. “This will cook up nice. Hope Mitch put some onions in the bin.” “Who?” “Mitch.” She turned, holding the catch up high for him to see. “He stocked the cabin for me. He would have known I couldn’t resist fishing once I got up here and probably made sure I had onions and butter and a little lemon.” Her eyes brimmed with anticipation. “Your boyfriend?” She gave him an odd little look but didn’t answer. Instead she rummaged through her bag and pulled out a string and tied it around the fish gills, immersing it, too, in the icy water. It irritated him that she didn’t answer his question. He had acknowledged his “perfect” girlfriend. But if she had a boyfriend, why would she have kissed him the way that she did? Maybe she wondered the same about him. He’d put her to the test again. “Damn, it’s hot.” He stripped off his shirt. C.J. looked up from her line to find rippling bronzed muscle a reach away. But it


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was the damp silky hairs that whorled around flat nipples and sprinkled across welldefined pecs that made her pause. He wouldn’t have been so tempting if he hadn’t been so damned attentive when she talked about growing up on the ranch and training her horses. While it made her feel exposed somehow, at the same time it warmed a neglected place in her heart. And, she reminded herself, the fact that they were getting along might help them reach a compromise. That is, if she could figure out what she could offer. If she didn’t find out soon, she’d be out of luck. He was too important to stay here much longer. Her eyes fixed on the trickle of sweat that caught in his golden chest hairs. “You ever swim here?” he asked. She glanced away. That’s all she’d need is for him to know how attracted she was to him. “Sure. The water’s cold but clean.” “Let’s go then.” Before she could say a word he stripped off his jeans, leaving only navy boxers covering the impressive bulge in front. She blinked disbelieving eyes, but his casual expression told her he didn’t think anything of it. She shouldn’t have either. Her Air Force years had prepared her well for the uninhibited way males had with their bodies. It had always made her and the few other females in her squadron envious the way they seemed so free and unselfconscious. It wasn’t easy for females to fit in, but they did. When he lowered himself over the bank and let out a howl, she laughed despite herself. “Holy cow, you didn’t tell me I’d freeze my balls off.” “I tried to.” She smiled, trying to avert her gaze from the way his boxers plastered to buttocks sculpted with muscle. How could an executive who sat on his rear all day have such a gorgeous body? With powerful strokes he swam out from the bank to deeper waters. She used the


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opportunity to strip down to bra and panties, simple white cotton that would hardly merit a glance anyway, and then dropped into the water. The shock of cold brought back memories too sweet to contemplate. It was here that her father taught her to dive, right off the huge boulder imbedded into the north side of the lake. He was swimming toward it now. As C.J. waded out further, she watched him climb onto it and then lean back on his elbows and stretch out his long legs. His biceps bunched, pulling taut skin over roped muscle that rippled and flexed with the subtlest of movement. She got a jolt between her legs as muscles clenched at what his size and strength promised. She had to get thoughts of what that body would feel like out of her mind. “The sun feels good up here,” he called over to her. No way she was climbing up beside him. As if to confirm the wisdom of her decision he stirred between his thighs. She skittered her eyes away from the growing bulge, but not before she caught the little lift of amusement at the corner of his lips. Lips that were far too full and soft for such a masculine body. She had to get a grip. She rolled onto her back and floated, eyes closed, and shut out any more thoughts. A low growl brought her head up. It had come from the rock. She glanced at herself and dove deep under the water. When she broke the surface again, the rock was empty. Hearing a splash behind her, she whirled around and his head popped out of the water, level with hers. His jaw radiated tension. “You did that on purpose,” he said. Beads of water clung to his stubble and his lashes shimmered. He was mesmerizing and so close his breath warmed her lips. “Did wh--” He locked his hands onto her waist and pulled her against him. He was hard, despite the frigid water. She closed her eyes and a moan she couldn’t stop rumbled up her throat. “I’ll bet you don’t moan like that for what’s-his-name?”


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His mouth brushed hers, soft and gentle in comparison to his grip on her. He rubbed himself against her and teased her with his tongue, playing with her, gliding his lips over her mouth, daring her to play back. “Do you, C.J.?” When she twisted away, he lifted her and slid her down the hard ridge of his erection, his eyes smoldering. She intended to bat him away, but when her fists met his chest, her palms instinctively opened and smoothed a path along the wide expanse. He drew in a breath and they both watched the play of his muscle under her fingertips. Even in the cold water his body felt so warm under her touch. He was rough and smooth, hard everywhere. She knew she was lost when her fingers lingered along the ripples of his flat stomach. He shuddered and then lifted her, trailing his tongue down to the slope of her breasts. He licked between the small valley and then the hot lick of his tongue was on her nipple. She groaned when he suckled her through the flimsy fabric of her bra. With each pull of his lips, pleasure rushed through her, robbing her of all sense. Was she going to let him take her right here in the water? “What are you doing?” She dug her fingers into his scalp and pulled at his hair. “Devouring you.” His head came up and the desire she saw in his eyes startled her. He covered her mouth, no longer gentle, cupping her bottom and thrusting against her. His tongue tangled with hers as she wrapped one leg around his hip. In the second that took, he slipped his fingers between the elastic of her panties and found her. He moaned into her mouth. “You’re so soft and wet, C.J., I want you.” His thumb slid along her tiny nub. She jumped at the shock. And then his fingers were slipping and sliding through every intimate layer and making her gasp for breath. She shouldn’t let him. She knew that. But the way he said her name in that husky rasp put her over the edge. One minute she was trying to rationalize her lack of control with him and the next she was watching her panties float away, her bra soon trailing behind. His boxers bubbled up next.


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He wrapped her legs snug around his waist and held her there, his jaw rigid, as he slipped up a bit, barely breaching her and then stopped. He closed his eyes on a groan and licked her lips. “You feel so good.” He sucked her bottom lip between his teeth. “You make me crazy.” “Please, Luke,” she gasped, trying to wriggle down onto him. “I like when you say my name,” he breathed. His palms cupped her backside and squeezed. “Jeez, I feel like a teenager, afraid if I sink into you I’ll explode.” “Luke.” She punched at him. He chuckled deep in his throat and skimmed his fingertips along the crease of her buttocks. She batted and scratched at him. “Do it,” she screeched. He thrust hard, filling her so completely, she couldn’t breath. He growled deep in his chest and sweat broke over his forehead. “Are you going to move?” she gasped. His chuckle turned to a soft moan and then he slid his thumbs up to her nipples and rubbed. Her sex clenched around him, eliciting another growl. He dropped his head onto her shoulder. “Damn, you’re sweet.” He trailed his tongue along her neck and sucked gently. And then he started to move, slow measured thrusts that had her gripping his shoulders, begging for more. “Deeper,” she breathed. He pounded into her and groaned, his breath ragged as his speed increased and with it her pleasure. She shuddered, feeling her body gather into itself and tighten, her pleasure centering on the spot where they joined, ready to burst. He slowed down, his chest heaving and touched his lips to hers in a kiss so chaste she melted into it. “I hate this to end,” he murmured against her lips. She licked his lips, searching for his tongue, desperate and so aroused that even his tongue touching hers was too much. She tried to lift herself to come down onto him but he locked his hands onto her hips, keeping her still. “I want to feel you grip me,” he murmured against her lips. He reached between them, and with one gliding touch she


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exploded. He groaned and held her close, his muscles tense with control while she lost all semblance of her own. She collapsed in his arms, shaking, before she finally melted against him. As soon as she did, he pulled out, his guttural groan sounding more like pain than pleasure. He throbbed powerfully against her tummy and then a splash of warm liquid covered her skin. That she hadn’t used protection mortified her. She hadn’t even thought about the consequences of what they were doing. He lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the bank where he laid her down and then climbed up beside her. Stretching his legs along hers, he tucked her close to his side and buried his lips in her hair. “I think I’m dead.” He gave a heavy sigh. He was so warm beside her, and although his skin no longer smelled of the delicious expensive cologne he’d had on when she kidnapped him, it smelled of sex and sweat and him. A smell so distinctive, already it was stamped on her brain. The same indescribable masculine scent she had breathed in when he had pinned her down against the mattress this morning. She let out a low moan. This morning! It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since she had kid ... taken him. She was never going to look at him again. It was the only solution. How could she have been so reckless? So out of control? So damned easy? While she lay there berating herself, he had fallen asleep, snuggled up against her, his breath warm on her neck. She gave him a shove with her shoulder. He grumbled beside her and burrowed in closer, his big body surrounding her and taking up too much space even in the wide outdoors. She wriggled away from him and searched for her clothes. Their underwear no doubt was on the bottom of the lake. As she slipped into her clothes, she listened to his peaceful breathing, not a care in


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the world, while her cheeks burned from what they had done. Her eyes reluctantly traced over his body, hesitating at the object of her dismay, thick and heavy along his thigh, and like him blessedly in repose. She had thought her years in the Air Force had done away with her troublesome behavior. She had been a model recruit, disciplined, making corporal in three years, and then master sergeant, with accommodations to prove it. What had happened to her? How could she negotiate anything with him in this state? He must think her an absolute pushover. She threw her pack onto her shoulder and fished their day’s catch out of the water. Leaving it dangling by its string, she hurried away, needing to get as far away from him as possible.


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CHAPTER SEVEN

As Luke approached the cabin, the aroma of grilling fish teased his appetite. C.J. was on the porch with an old charcoal grill, flipping with great care the striper he had caught as the flames licked around it sending the delicious scent of charred skin to waft in the breeze. He watched her a minute. She had changed her clothes to short cut-off jeans and a tank top that clung to her braless figure, its color too dark to allow the shadow of her nipples to show through. He could see them anyway. It was an image now indelibly marked on his brain. They were scarlet, ripe against her white skin, and tipped her small teacup breasts into little points when she was aroused. He liked that she felt at ease with him enough to dispense with the bra. Although he was hardly at ease. The sexual tension he expected would subside after he’d had her was now worse. He wanted her already. And once more would not be enough. She looked up abruptly, eyes skittering down his bare chest, her cheeks flushing scarlet. He grinned to himself. So much for easing her tension. “Smells good.” She nodded, wary. “I have some rice, too.” Diverting her gaze, she glanced back at him, watching his every move as though he would pounce on her at any second. Maybe he would. He stepped onto the porch and walked up close. She took an imperceptible step back. “C.J.?” He cupped her chin but she jerked away. “Listen.” She waved the spatula in front of her as though he were a mosquito she could swat away. “What happened back there was ... an aberration.” She licked her


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bottom lip. “Seemed real to me.” “It was an impulse I regret.” He gave an impatient sigh. “Look--” “And you should, too. What gave you the right to touch me at all, never mind overwhelm me--” “Whoa.” He held up a hand. “You were the one who stretched yourself out flat on your back with only wet panties and a bra clinging to--” “Stop it.” She choked on a breath. “Now you’re just getting completely out of control.” “Oh? You mean unlike you kidnapping me?” When she looked up to the heavens as though gathering her wits, he had to smile. “Okay, just hold on,” she said, her expression stern. “What I’m saying is, we can’t negotiate anything if we’re going to be touching each other.” He gave her an amused frown. “You’re not thinking we’ll be able to keep our hands off each other?” “Of course we will. We’re adults.” “Exactly, so why should we?” He let his gaze wash over her. The fish sizzled between them as they stared each other down. When he stepped forward, she jumped, but he simply took the spatula from her and gave the fish one last turn. Even above the fish he caught a whiff of her scent. That tantalizing honeysuckle again. As though it had become part of him, he craved it, and as hungry as he was, he would gladly put the fish aside for another taste of her. This time he’d go slow, savoring every bite. He looked at her, plate in hand, his eyes studying her lips, blood red without a hint of make-up. Without realizing it, he had backed her into a corner of the porch. It took every ounce of control to keep his hands off her, and the reckless part of him was dying to know if she’d be able to keep her hands off him, too. As his eyes roved over, he could see she was uncomfortable, but he knew she


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wouldn’t try to brush past him. She’d keep her distance. While she waited, her brow drew together above amber-flecked eyes prettier than any stones he’d ever bought. And he had bought plenty. All gifts for women he couldn’t now remember. “Let’s eat and we’ll talk,” he grumbled. She released a little breath and gave a nod, but still didn’t move, her glance darting behind him and waiting for him to turn around first. Oh, yeah, he made her nervous all right. He liked that. On the other side of the porch they sat on rickety chairs at a paint-chipped table rotted around its edges, but with a view more spectacular than Dallas’ finest restaurants and with food just as good. He watched her take another delicate bite of the striper, savoring it on her tongue for several beats. When she closed her eyes, he could see her suppressing a moan. She was a sensual being through and through. He knew that now. And though he knew she strived for iron control, he was lucky she had let it slip with him. He could still feel the way she clenched tightly around him when she climaxed. Just the memory of it made him hard. “Too bad we don’t have some Montrachet.” She looked at him blankly. “It’s a white wine.” The little sniff she gave him made him smile. It lent him an idea. “I want to take you back with me.” She put her fork down. “What?” He pushed his rice around on his plate and then took a mouthful, making her wait. He loved the idea of her by his side, snarling at all the pretension the big city offered. He wondered how successful she’d be controlling her impulses in that environment. She’d be like a wildcat in a cage. His wildcat. Maybe she’d take out her frustrations on him at night. “I came up with something you can bring to the negotiation table,” he said, taking


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a slow bite of his fish. She had garnished it with sautéed onions and had added a squeeze of lemon. He remembered what’s-his-name. He still hadn’t found out if he was a boyfriend. “My father and his assistant, who’s more of an honorary aunt having practically raised me, have this idea that it’s time I got married and carried on the family name.” He gave her a smile. “While I’m not opposed to that last part, I could do without what comes in between.” The little pulse at the base of her neck fluttered. “What’s this got to do with me?” “You’re the perfect foil. They already have the lady picked out. That perfect girlfriend I mentioned?” She stiffened. He definitely had her attention now. “Ruth, my aunt, saw me leave with you. By the time we return, I’ll have been gone for days. We’ll say it was love at first sight. We’re engaged.” Her mouth gaped. “It happens.” “On what planet?” She made an incredulous face. “It even sounds romantic.” He took a few more bites while her expression gave way to exaggerated blinking. God, she was cute. “Look, while my aunt will no doubt be shocked at first, she’ll come around.” She put down her fork. “I was right yesterday. You are crazy.” “Now for Serena,” he continued, ignoring her, “I’m not sure how she’ll react. I guess she’ll be mad, but she’ll get over it. Any plans she had were of her own making. I never encouraged her.” She raised a brow. “I’m sure.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” She gave a snort. “Let me get this straight. We show up together after you’ve been missing for two or three days and we’re in love. No mention of a kidnapping, board of directors’ votes, my land, nothing.” “That’s right.”


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“And you vote ‘no’ to the purchase of my land when it comes up again. And you do have the majority vote?” “Right on both of those.” Her lashes lowered and she chewed a bit on that luscious mouth. Her gaze darted back to him. “How long?” He hadn’t thought that far. How long would it take to get her out of his system? It was a problem he had never faced. He put down his napkin and leaned back, propping the chair on its legs, watching her intently. Her eyes narrowed and she gave him a smug smile. She glanced down at his chair. Too late he realized why she looked so pleased. The chair wobbled before he could swing it back down. It collapsed underneath him, landing his backside on top of it with a crash, all four rotted legs flattened beneath him. She laughed, a full throaty laugh that went straight to his groin. “Oh yeah, that’s funny.” “It’s hilarious.” She smirked. He kicked the pieces of chair out of his way and leaned against the porch rail behind him. “I wouldn’t lean there either.” When he jerked away she laughed again, a soft sultry laugh this time. Her eyes sparkled. She was making him crazy. “Okay, then how’s this for funny. One month,” he said. She bolted upright. Her smile disappeared. “One month?” He almost smiled at her naiveté. It seemed that it wouldn’t occur to her to try to play him. Apparently, what you saw with her was what you got. She wore her emotions on her sleeve, or rather on her beautiful face. “Sure, it’ll take that long to gather the board.” It would take only an hour if he insisted. “And we can’t very well fall in love and then out again that fast.” Although many times Ruth had accused him of precisely that, confusing lust for love. “And I need


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to make sure my perfect girlfriend has time to find someone else or she might round on back and try to lasso me in again.” “Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “If she’s so perfect, that shouldn’t be hard.” “She is.” He grinned. “Ruth will tell anyone who listens that she’s beautiful, rich, cultured, intelligent ... and crazy about me.” She looked down at her plate and stabbed at her fish. “Well, then you’re an idiot to get rid of her.” He slapped his hand down. Her head came up. “That’s the second time you’ve called me an idiot in less then twenty-four hours.” He stepped forward, enjoying the startled look on her face. “So? That’s supposed to worry me?” He rounded the table. “If you were smart it would.” She tensed. He knew she found him unpredictable. It occurred to him that she was probably the only one who did. She brought out a spontaneous streak in him that he’d forgotten he had. He gripped the sides of her chair and leaned down close. She lifted her chin up in a defiant gesture that made him want to kiss her senseless. He growled instead. “Like I said yesterday, someone needs to reign you in, darlin’.” “And like I said. Fat chance it’ll be you.” She poked his chest. Too late, he could tell she realized her mistake. He breathed against her lips. “Can’t keep your hands off me, can you?” His lips descended, but she flattened her hands against his chest and pushed. A useless effort. In one smooth sweep he captured her mouth and kissed her with an urgency that surprised him. He muffled her cries of protest, slipping his tongue into the soft cavern of her mouth. She tasted of mint and sex. He reached to cradle her face. It wasn’t long before he felt her surrender, felt her tongue meet his. He throbbed in response. It worried him that it took so little, barely a touch, for him to become so aroused with her.


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He slid his fingers along her throat and then caressed the smooth skin and delicate line of her collarbone while he gentled his tongue, making her chase his, and she did. She grabbed onto his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she dragged him closer, wanting him as much as he did her. It surprised him how much he welcomed it. As he nipped her lower lip, needy little moans bubbled up her throat. He laved the sting from his teeth with his tongue. Then he filled his hands with the soft swell of her breasts. When he squeezed her nipples, she jumped and gripped his wrists. She yanked his hands down with surprising strength and shot up from the chair, backing away. “I won’t go along with this thing unless we agree to no sex.” He rose to his full height. “Why?” “Stay right there.” She held up a hand. “This is a good example of why.” She took a little breath. “I intend to be clear-headed and in control. I will not be tricked and taken advantage of. In one month I have every intention of leaving with my land intact and ready to buy it in full from my miserable, soon to be desperate, stepfather.” “We’ll be engaged.” He didn’t point out that she tricked him from the start by kidnapping him with an unloaded gun. And he sure wasn’t going to point out that his inability to keep his hands off her pretty much proved she was the one in control. “We’ll be expected to touch each other.” “That’s a far cry from what you intended.” “We were kissing.” She shuddered. “There will be little of that and only when necessary.” “We’ll be sharing my apartment.” She blinked. “Why?” He gave a patient sigh. “Unless you live in Dallas, which I don’t think you do, you’ll have to move in with me. We’re in love, we’ll want to be together. And I think it’s expected that we’re having sex.” She pulled the cloth tie out of her hair and rose. A thick fall of waves tumbled down her shoulders. “Damn. What am I going to do about Mitch and the airport?” she


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mumbled to herself, bending her head and gathering a thick mass of hair and threading it tighter through the cloth tie. Mitch again. He intended to get to the bottom of that real soon. She looked back up at him, loose tendrils framing her face. “No one needs to know what goes on behind closed doors.” He gave her a seductive grin. “I’ll go along with that. I’ve never been one to kiss and tell.” She glared. “You have an ego as big as your--” Her cheeks flushed to a soft pink. He raised an amused brow. She swallowed and then boldly pushed past him and gathered up the plates. “If were going to do this, let’s not waste another minute.” As she bent over, he cupped her bottom. She whirled on him and gave him a look, determination stamped on her forehead. Then she strode across the porch and marched through the door, dishes in hand. But he wasn’t fooled. She was as jumpy around him as a filly facing her first race. He liked her that way. She was fearless and vulnerable, single minded and impulsive, strong and yet incredibly soft, all wrapped together in a package he found irresistible. And he’d never backed down from anything in his life. If he could tame prize thoroughbreds, he could certainly gentle her.


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CHAPTER EIGHT

With increasing dread, C.J. peered from the helicopter window as the miniature people standing on the rooftop of Dutton Enterprises grew larger at their approach. The ones with orange vests and ear protectors didn’t worry her. It was the silver-haired lady and the tall gentleman next to her who looked so much like Luke that had her head pounding. She should never have let Luke convince her to do this. Luke’s father and aunt shielded their eyes as the craft whipped their clothes around with its descent and landed with perfect precision on its pad. Luke grinned with satisfaction as he took off his earphones and hooked them overhead. As they prepared earlier that day to leave her cabin in the hills, he insisted on driving C.J.’s truck and she let him, but then later he pitched a fit when she wouldn’t allow him to fly Mitch’s plane. He complained the entire flight. She sensed that he was a man used to taking control and it was obvious that he loved to fly as much as she did. It was also becoming obvious that he liked getting her riled. If his teasing smile when her temper rose was a form of seduction, it was clearly working. He was reeling her in as expertly as he had the large-mouthed bass that they had taken such pleasure in devouring last night. The thought of being devoured by him was a notion that was hard to ignore. Luke reached across her lap and unlatched her door. “Wait.” She held his wrist. “I’m ... not ready.” He tipped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “C.J., it’ll be all right.” His gaze was warm, devoid of any teasing. “What will we say again?” she asked, stalling for time. He leaned close and in an unhurried gesture, brushed his lips with hers. “It doesn’t matter,” he murmured. He pulled back and his eyes were patient. “We’re in love, that’s


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all we need to know. Just be yourself.” He smiled. “And act like you’re crazy about me.” When she rolled her eyes, he laughed with such genuine pleasure that it made it difficult to steel herself against his charm. Then he grabbed her pack from the backseat, and they were soon ducking under the helicopter blades and running toward the rooftop entrance. Attendants scurried around greeting Luke and asking if he had any other bags. Luke waved them away. “Nothing, just strap her down.” “Yes, sir,” came a string of responses. When they reached his father and aunt, Luke kissed his aunt’s cheek and motioned all four of them through the door and out of the gusting wind. In the elevator, C.J. found herself facing two tense, inquiring faces, not unkind but definitely concerned. Luke beamed beside her. “Dad, Ruth, I’d like you to meet C.J. Wilson.” He slid his arm around her waist and drew her close. “My fiancée.” His announcement met with stony silence. His aunt’s lashes fluttered slightly and his father’s mouth dropped a bit, but other than that they looked like a videotape stopped on pause. C.J. held her breath. Moments passed before his father and aunt finally turned to each other and shared a stunned look. They directed their attention back to Luke. They looked at his wrinkled dress trousers and white undershirt. He hadn’t worn socks with his dress shoes, and his face was shadowed with razor stubble. The look that she found so sexy must seem ragged to his father and aunt. She tugged on her own T-shirt, knowing she looked no better in her worn jeans and faded top, misshapen at the hem and hanging over her waistband, not to mention her tattered cowboy boots. Her hair was stuck hastily in a cloth tie and already falling apart. His aunt took a little breath and spoke first. “Well ... Luke,” she said, still studying C.J. with perplexing concentration, “I don’t know what to say.” “Say hi.” Luke grinned.


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His father stepped forward. “Yes, of course, C ... J, is it?” He took her hand. “Yes, sir.” After C.J. shook his hand, she offered her hand to his aunt. “Ma’am?” C.J. nodded. The older woman gave C.J. a quick, firm shake. When the elevator door slid open, Luke steered his father and Ruth out, but before C.J. could follow, he hopped back in and pressed the button to the lobby. “We’re exhausted.” He waved to them. “I’ll call.” “But Luke--” his father turned around just as the door slid closed. As the elevator descended, Luke leaned against the wall. He touched the tip of her nose. “Well, we survived that.” “My God.” She gave a nervous giggle. “Did you see their faces?” “Yeah. I’m sure their heads are spinning. They’re probably pouring each other stiff drinks right now. I’ll have to reassure them that I haven’t lost my mind.” He laughed and gave her a heart-melting smile. “At least not completely.” She shifted uneasily. That look of his could get her into serious trouble. “You’ll just turn on that legendary charm and they’ll forget to worry.” “Naw.” He shook his head. “That’s never worked with Ruth.” When the elevator slid open, he took her hand and led her into the gleaming lobby and within minutes heads turned as one person after another greeted Luke, their gazes speculative. Luke waved and smiled calling many by name, but seemed oblivious to the interest they generated. He drew C.J over to the U-shaped reception desk poised in the center of the lobby. “Hi, Jennifer,” he said, greeting the young woman behind the desk. She blushed a pretty pink. “Mr. Dutton, welcome back.” She glanced at C.J. “Darlin’,” Luke said with a smile, “call Ms. Daniels and tell her that C.J. and I have gone back to my place and that we’ll meet her and my father tomorrow for dinner. Have her make reservations for wherever she wants.” “Certainly, Mr. Dutton.” The girl bestowed on him a brilliant smile. Luke winked and then escorted C.J. toward the brass turnstile that just a few days


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ago she had approached with only sheer nerve on her side and not a clue as to what she’d actually do. She wondered now if any of these people recognized her. As soon as they reached the sidewalk the doorman greeted Luke. “Mr. Dutton, welcome back. Your car is being brought around.” “Thanks, Carl.” Luke’s absence, however brief, had definitely been noted. C.J. glanced at the walkie-talkie on the doorman’s belt. Word must have spread fast that Luke was on his way and then equally as fast that he was leaving again. The doorman glanced at her with interest just as a shiny, late-model Jaguar glided up to the curb. Carl jumped forward to hold the door for her while Luke took her elbow and carefully helped her into the front seat as though she might break. Carl smiled at her as he closed the door, but he was studying her too intently for her comfort. Luke bounded around the car, and the young man who had brought it held the door open for him and tossed him the keys. Then he ducked his head to get a glimpse of C.J. through the front windshield before Luke pulled away. Although neither man could know that she was the same gun-toting kidnapper who had barged in here just days ago, their interest unnerved her. She got the impression there was little Luke did that went unnoticed. She wondered what kind of rumors had already spread over his whereabouts these last few days and what new ones they had just started. She had to have been crazy to kidnap such a public figure. She was crazy. And she was grateful that Luke had given her a way out. And a chance to get back her ranch to boot. In fact he was making it easy for her while he was getting little in return. He hardly seemed like a man who needed help challenging his family’s wishes. Was he truly unable then to extricate himself from a romantic relationship? No other explanation existed for why he would suggest their charade. Still, she was uneasy. She fit into his world about as well as a bull elk at an opera. How were they to convince anyone that Luke could have fallen in love with someone like her at all, let


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alone in little more than forty-eight hours? Her first instinct was right. He was crazy. Well, at least they had that in common. While she puzzled over it, Luke drove the car smoothly through downtown Dallas traffic before pulling up before a grand brass arch leading to a glass-encased high-rise along the water. Another attendant, this time uniformed and with white gloves, leaped forward at their approach, calling Luke by name and taking the car keys while another hurried to help C.J. from the car. “Welcome back, Mr. Dutton.” “Thanks, Robert.” C.J. rolled her eyes. “You’d think you’d been gone for weeks,” she mumbled. Luke laughed and gave the man a nod as he ushered them through double-wide, carved doors. They stepped into a spacious lobby lined with etched mirrors that reflected the glittering chandelier that hung from a twenty foot ceiling. The elevator that took them to the top floor was as large as the kitchen in her own little apartment in Huelings. “You’ll feel better once I get you out of those clothes and submerged in my hot tub.” “Who says I’m not feeling well?” She looked at him sharply. “And you’re not getting me naked and in any hot tub.” His lips twitched in amusement. How had she fallen for that again? Letting him get her riled when she should be doing her damnedest to avoid that teasing smile. As soon as the door slid open, he grabbed her hand as though it were natural, despite her subtle tugging, and led her out of the elevator and across the hall to a thick, paneled door. He unlocked it and snapped on the light. Dusk had already fallen as she stepped through the door into a wide foyer. Along the opposite wall in a sunken living room, a sheet of glass overlooked the city. During the short time it took her to walk through the foyer and step down into the living room, one light after another snapped on in the skyscrapers, dotting the celestial landscape


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beautifully with little pinpoints of light. She glanced at overstuffed, black leather furniture that was set against gray carpet and walls. A fireplace with a gray marble mantle spanned most of one corner, and a few chrome floor lamps and black mica end tables hardly filled the rest of the area. An ugly chrome sculpture, a modern piece, stood atop the coffee table. She was no interior designer, but the room seemed more like a stage set for Bachelor in the City than a place where anyone lived. When she looked for Luke, she heard the clank of glass and ice through an archway that led to a raised dining area. She stepped up to a table and chairs of simple lines, black again, against gray marble flooring. She walked around the table and swung open louver doors. He was standing in the center of a large kitchen, surrounded by stainless steel and granite, filling tumblers with ice and bottled water. He dropped in some lemon. “Sparkling water?” he said in that deep, lazy tone that she had grown used to. He walked up close and held out a thick glass. She took it gratefully. “Are you hungry?” he asked as she gulped the refreshing water. She nodded. “Good. When we have more time I’ll fix you something nice, but for now I’ll just call for food. What would you like?” “Anything is fine.” She looked up at him. “I’m not particular.” His eyes held hers a minute and then he reached up and touched her lips with his finger, blotting a droplet of water. Before she could protest the intimate gesture he turned to the wall phone. It was a shiny steel contraption. “Robert,” he spoke into it, “tell Rita to order food from Cache, enough for two.” He paused a moment. “Right.” C.J. sighed. Anything the man wanted was at his fingertips. She motioned to her surroundings. “Colorful place ya got here.” His blue eyes crinkled. “It’s a little shiny for me, but the kitchen’s well-stocked and the view’s nice.” “It’s a beautiful view. Not as nice as it would be if those windows overlooked mountains and sagebrush, but pretty all the same.”


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“What’s so great about sagebrush?” He leaned against the granite counter and leisurely sipped his water, but the way he watched her was anything but casual. “Well, you have to have lived in the wilderness to appreciate it.” “That so?” His lips lifted in a smile. “Sure. It’s only after a time that you even notice the subtle colors, the natural hues, blended better than any artist could do. And somethin’ about all that space and endless sky makes it just plain peaceful to look at.” She stared off, lost in her thoughts. “If I ever have a house again, I’m going to build it high up on a mountain with windows facing west so I can watch how the sun goes down beyond the mountain peaks, silhouetting them so they look like Gothic castles reaching into the sky.” The idea of it had her smiling. When the silence grew heavy she glanced over at him. He wasn’t smiling. He was still leaning against the counter, but his eyes burned into her, intense, indigo dark. She straightened, her instincts warning her that he was about to snatch her up. She couldn’t figure what set him off this time. “It’s just a silly dream--” He started toward her, but she whirled away. “I’ll just get my pack.” She stumbled, practically raced, through the doors. His soft laughter trailed behind her. How could she survive a month when even one night alone with him was more daunting than meeting up with a wolf that was separated from its pack? She frowned. Somehow, thinking about a wolf and Luke in the same breath wasn’t much of a stretch. In the foyer, she reached for her backpack, but he was right behind her and grabbed it up before she could lift it onto her shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you the bedroom.” She halted. “What bedroom? There had better be two.” She was tired and hungry and she was not going to fight about this. He stopped and turned back to her, dropping the pack. “C.J.,” he said, reaching for her. She backed up but he kept coming. When her back met the wall, he anchored his hands on her shoulders. “We’ll be together for a month.” He kneaded her shoulders so


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expertly with his fingers that she was just too achy to stop him. “Why not enjoy the time we have?” His voice was like butter melting over fresh-from-the-oven bread. Against her good sense, she let him pull her toward his big sturdy body. He pressed his lips to her ear. “I want to make love to you,” he murmured, the velvet sound of his voice hypnotic. She laid her forehead against his shoulder and sighed. “I don’t do casual sex.” She couldn’t exactly remember why at this minute, but she knew she didn’t. “Okay, so we’ll be formal about it.” He smiled against her ear. His teasing tone warmed her more than she wanted to admit. It would be so easy to give in to her urges. But she wouldn’t. She shook her head and slowly untangled herself from his arms. “I told you.” She gave a heavy sigh. “If we go through with this, I want a clear head and no unnecessary complications. If you can’t do that, then let’s call if off now.” “You drive a hard bargain.” He cupped her chin. “And no touching.” Reluctantly, she removed his hand. “I won’t have you seducing me.” “I see,” he said, his voice low and warm. He gave her hair a playful tug, his expression wistful. “I guess that’s fair. I won’t seduce you, C.J. I want you to trust me.” She inclined her head. “You do?” He lifted a shoulder. “I think we need to trust each other if we’re going to help each other. Don’t you?” She nodded, wanting to trust him but afraid she might regret it. “I want you, C.J.” He lifted a strand of her hair and sifted it between his fingers. The husky timbre of his voice stirred her in places she refused to think about. “But I won’t trick you into making love with me.” At another time, in another situation, she could fall for someone like him. A man so at ease in his own skin ... so confident. “Now,”--he smiled--“if you change your mind...” She flipped his hand off her hair. “I’ll let you know.” She gave him a wry grin. “Now, where’s my room?”


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CHAPTER NINE

C.J. unloaded her backpack on the small double bed. Other than her toothbrush, toothpaste, and hairbrush, the few items it carried were practically useless now. Her clothes needed washing, her shampoo was nearly gone, and her conditioner was empty. No way she could get a brush through her tangled hair without conditioner. As though sensing her predicament, Luke walked into the room with a fluffy terrycloth robe and held it out to her. “The tub’s full and dinner’s arrived.” She nearly moaned aloud at the thought of food and getting out of her wrinkled, lived-in clothes. “You go in and get under the bubbles.” He smiled. “I promise I won’t peek until you do, then I’ll follow.” “Oh, that’s a good one. But I’m not playing.” He gently eased her down onto the bed and then picked up one booted foot. “Look, I won’t join you if you’re set on it.” “I am.” He pulled off one boot and massaged her heel. “I’d sure love to soak, too.” He gave her an adorable pout. “No.” He gave a laugh. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” If this was any indication of how things would go, C.J. might as well toss her hat in right now, because no way could she resist him for that long. He pulled off her other boot and massaged gently along the bottom of her instep, running his thumb from her heel to the balls of her foot. She wanted to cry from its soothing feel. He had the most clever hands. After he took off her socks, he jumped up. “Now, get out


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of those clothes. My bedroom is on the other end of the apartment so just go in when you’re ready. **** Luke looked up to see C.J. float into his bedroom, the hem of his robe trailing behind her, her thick tumble of hair falling around her shoulders. He watched her take in the king-sized bed in the room’s center and then look over at him on the platformed rise of the tub. The lights in the entire suite were out, but the gazebo of glass that surrounded the tub area let light in from neighboring high-rises. The steamed windows offered enough privacy for comfort without ruining the view. It was as though the tub was suspended in air. Scented candles along the window ledges flickered and reflected against the wide tiled ledge that surrounded the tub. This master suite was the only part of the apartment he liked. Probably because it reminded him of soaking in his hot tub, outside and under the stars, on his Montana ranch. She approached him tentatively, but her eyes took in the trays of food. For such a tiny thing, she sure could eat. He liked her appetite. He had suspected it carried over to other primal pleasures. “Look.” He motioned to the bubbles filling the tub. “I won’t see a thing.” “No.” “’Course, I’ve already seen quite a bit. Not nearly enough but--” “Don’t start,” she warned. He laughed at her frustration. Almost everything she did amused him ... and aroused him. He could tell her frustration was partly due to her irritation with herself for wanting him. She gave him such pleasure just being herself. The thought was intriguing. “You can leave now,” she said, hands on hips. His gaze lingered on her. He was hard at just the thought of her naked and so close. “C.J.?” “N,O, means no.”


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He sighed. “All right. Just ring that buzzer if you need anything,” he said, pointing to the button along the wall. “Oh, yeah, like that will happen.” He left with a plan and was back at the door in a few minutes. When he came back with a tray of food, she was completely submerged. He placed the dinner down and reached below the water and pulled the lever. The water gurgled loudly. Her head popped up. “What are you doing here?” She watched the water recede. “What are you doing, period?” “I’m getting rid of some of this water. I forgot how small you are. You’re practically drowning.” “But--” She stopped when she spied the food. “What’s that?” When the level reached the swell of her breasts he stopped the drain and then turned to the spread of special food he’d ordered. “Wine?” “If you’re trying to get me drunk....” Her voice trailed off as her gaze settled on the coconut prawns. He ignored her question, poured her a glass, and placed it on the ledge beside her. Then he speared a shrimp with a cocktail fork. She watched him with rapt attention. “Is that shrimp?” He stretched himself along the ledge so their faces were level. “Open up.” “I’m not falling for this, you know.” “For what?” He gave her a teasing smile. She moved to grab the shrimp but he held it from her. “Indulge me? I want to feed you.” He could sense her warring with herself, willing herself not to give in to him. He ran the shrimp under her nose. She frowned. “It smells like coconut.” “It is. Try it.” “That doesn’t make sense,” she grumbled. But when he held it in front of her, she


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took a tiny lick. Arousal pumped heavy thought his veins. Her eyes grew wide at the taste. “Mmm,” she mumbled, bringing her fingers to her lips. “It’s delicious.” She grabbed his wrist. “Uh, uh.” He pulled her hand away. “If you want it, you’ll have to let me feed you.” “You are so frustrating.” “So are you.” He gave her a look that told her his frustration had nothing to do with food and brought the lightly fried shrimp to her lips. She took a generous bite and closed her eyes. Then he took the last bite himself. It was cooked to perfection, tender and crusty, with just the right amount of coconut. She opened her eyes and spotted the empty fork. “Hey.” He chuckled and lifted the wine glass to her lips. She looked at it long enough for him to know that she was trying to resist, but she was also thirsty. Finally, she took a delicate sip and then two. When she went for a third he took the glass away. “Hold on. I’ve got a banquet here. I don’t want you passing out in the tub.” He speared another shrimp and this time when he brought it to her lips, she gave him a begrudging smile. He watched her wine-moistened lips nibble the shrimp, and when she swallowed he followed the movement along the slender curve of her throat. Her every move seemed sensual to him. He really must be losing his mind. “How’s that?” “I think I like you more now,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact, but her eyes held a glint of mischief. “You have the best taste in food.” “Then you’ll like this,” he replied, his smile smug. He picked up a hand-rolled wonton and took the first bite himself, wanting to see her mouth where his had been. Apparently, his intention wasn’t lost on her. She glanced at the bitten off piece when he presented it to her and instead of taking a bite herself, she looked at him and licked its end.


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A jolt shot straight to his groin. She laughed. In the same teasing laugh that he’d been torturing her with for days. “You did that on purpose.” Her eyes filled with mirth. “Prove it.” He shook his head and laughed with her while she took a generous bite, practically finishing it off. He popped the last piece in his mouth. “I think I like you less,” he grumbled. She looked at him with an expression he couldn’t read, but he could sense her relax and he was glad. “What’s next?” she asked, her eyes warm and unguarded. He twirled cellophane noodles on the fork. “Open up.” “Let me taste it with my tongue first.” “Definitely not.” He held it from her. “For someone who likes to eat, you’re pretty stubborn about trying new things. “I am?” He nodded. “You’re impulsive, but at the same time you’re too guarded.” He expected her to claim that he didn’t make sense, but she seemed to ponder what he said. He frowned at her. “Trust me about this.” When she opened her mouth obediently, he slipped the small forkful past those kissable lips. She closed her eyes on a moan. He chuckled. “See?” He offered her more wine and then took a bite of the wonton before giving her the rest. She swallowed and then sighed, leaning her head against the tub ledge. Her nipples peeked above the water. They were flushed and swollen from the warm water, a rich deep red. He should tell her. But he wouldn’t. He would stick to his word that he wouldn’t seduce her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy what he could get. When she lifted her head, he dipped a garden roll in Nuoc Mam sauce and poised


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it at her lips. She gave the sauce a dubious look. “Open up,” he ordered. She saluted. “Yes, sir.” “Cute.” He held one palm under the roll as he guided it to her mouth with the other. She gave him a small smile. “I’m not afraid of you.” “No?” He raised a brow. “You were terrified of me two days ago.” “No, I wasn’t.” He lowered the garden roll. “Now, C.J.” He shook his head. “If we’re going to work together, we’ve got to be honest--” The word stuck in his throat. She seemed not to notice his unease. She chewed her lip. “Okay, you’re right. I was terrified of you.” He should have felt better that she opened up to him, but he felt worse. “But I’m not now.” She looked at him with such innocence he wanted to drown himself. “Good,” he said, gruff. “Now open up.” She smiled and took a small bite, chewing slowly, savoring the taste. “This isn’t my apartment, C.J.” He wanted to be honest about something, however small. She stopped chewing. “Whose is it?” He dipped the roll again. He took a bite big enough so that he hoped the last of it would have her mouth on his hand. It worked. Her warm lips grazed his fingers. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip and slipped it between her lips for just a moment, but long enough to send most of his blood straight to his groin. He reached for a napkin and dotted her lips. Then he answered her question. “I live here, C.J., but I just lease it. The reason it looks like no one lives here is because I don’t. I have very little of my stuff here and I work 24/7. I came here temporarily to help my father out of a jam and stayed longer than I expected.”


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“How long?” “I’ve been here almost a year.” “Oh.” She seemed to ponder that. “So that’s why I was told that William L. Dutton was seventy-four years old.” “He is.” Luke smiled. “Wait a minute.” He feigned annoyance. “You were going to kidnap my father?” She blinked. “Not really. I mean... I hadn’t planned any of it.” “You don’t say.” He hid a smile and then frowned. “You could have given my ol’ man a heart attack.” She looked chastened. “I don’t think I would have gone through with it in the end, Luke. Even the gun was an afterthought. You know, coming to the big city and all. It’s when I saw the helicopter pad on the rooftop the day before that things kind of snowballed.” “I see.” He leaned in. “You had no reservations about kidnapping me.” “Well,”--she licked her lips--“you didn’t look too frail to me.” His eyes dropped to her mouth. “How’s the sauce?” “Good.” She swallowed. He leaned closer and gave a slow swipe of his tongue across her lips and groaned. “Yeah, that’s delicious all right.” When he pulled away there was no mistaking the desire in her eyes. He could have kicked himself for promising not to seduce her. “Luke?” she asked, her voice breathless. “Um, what did you do before you came here to help your father?” He still wanted to be honest with her, but he wanted more for her to like him for who he was and not for the security and lifestyle he represented. Not for those things that she craved and had been too long without. He hedged a little, but mostly he distracted her. “I’m ... a venture capitalist. I invest in companies that are good bets.” He pressed the wine to her lips and watched their color deepen to crimson. What he told her wasn’t far from the truth, although he let experts he trusted move his money so he had more time


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to run his ranch. “So, then, you are an executive, like your father?” “I’m in business in a sense, yes.” “Oh. ’Cause you never seemed to me like the type.” “Why not?” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just can’t picture you even liking the whole corporate thing.” Now his omissions bordered on outright lies. “I don’t like it, but sometimes we have to do things we don’t like.” She lowered her lashes. “You’re right.” Now he felt like a real prick. Wanting to drop the subject, he drew her attention back to the last of the food, introducing her to papaya salad and wrapped dumplings, explaining their origin and how they were made. They ate together, alternating bites as though they had been together for years. He had never enjoyed such intimacy outside the bedroom with anyone as much as he did with her. While with others it always remained a seductive game, with her he just enjoyed her pleasure in what he was doing. Of course, with her it wasn’t a game. He had meant what he said. He wouldn’t seduce her. She was getting under his skin like no woman ever had before. “Let’s take a break and I’ll wash your hair,” he offered. “You want to wash it?” she asked, incredulous. He laughed. “I’ve been wanting to get my hands in it from almost the moment I saw you.” The look she gave him said she doubted that, but she nodded. “Okay, but I have to warn you, you’ll have to use conditioner.” “I can do that.” “You know how to work it through the strands? If you don’t, I won’t be able to get a comb through it.” She looked at his close-cropped hair.


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Last year his hair fell to his shoulders, although he mostly wore it tied back. He knew all about conditioner. He made her turn and arch her neck. He massaged her scalp as he washed it, twice, and then worked the conditioner through so it would be like mink when he brushed it out for her. Little sounds of pleasure bubbled up her throat as he worked and massaged. Any louder and he’d think she was having an orgasm. He smiled against her ear, about to tell her what he was thinking but then thought better of it. He was too aroused to play games and then trust himself not to touch her where he really wanted. He turned on the faucet and filled a cup with clean water to rinse her hair and then twisted it atop her head. He reached for a basket of clips along the ledge. She glanced at his collection. “Yours?” He gave her a look. “Never mind.” Looking at the baskets of clips and scented soaps, it would seem he housed a regular harem but, while he had occasion to use them, they mostly stayed filled because Rita, his personal assistant, kept him well stocked. “Here,” he said, handing her a soft bath sponge, “wash up ... unless, of course, you want me to?” The teasing tone that came so easy to him had disappeared. She offered no mocking retort, either. He studied her quietly, taking in every delicate feature on her small face, her eyes the most riveting. In the candlelight they shimmered with gold. Her skin glowed. He thought about the last time she was submerged in water ... with him. Was it only yesterday? Little beads of water had settled on her nose and cheekbones. On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her nose and then barely touched her lips. “I’m not trying to seduce you, C.J.,” he breathed against her lips, “I just need to kiss you.” “Okay.” She closed her eyes and gave him full access to her mouth. With the tip of his tongue, he barely skimmed her bottom lip and then nipped with exploratory little bites where he had licked, tasting her. She tasted of wine and sweet sauce and the way he


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remembered the first time he had kissed her. He remembered the taste of his blood on her tongue. He needed this kiss. He needed to kiss her right now as much as he needed her trust. He might regret it later--he was sure he would. But in her vulnerable, relaxed, and wine-dazed state, he wouldn’t take advantage of her. He liked her. The realization struck hard. A little moan escaped her throat. He didn’t dare touch her. And he wouldn’t move any closer either. He knew better than to let his palms skim her flesh. Her tongue met his and flirted, playing with his, gentle teasing touches that were as much pleasure to him as they were torture. He knew it was the same for her. Just as he knew, and stoically reminded himself, that the worst thing he could do was take advantage of her new-found openness toward him. He also knew that if he didn’t stop right now, he couldn’t trust himself. He broke their kiss. She made a soft sigh of regret but didn’t protest. Her beautiful eyes were glazed over as she looked at him. He trailed a finger along her cheek. Then he cleared his throat. “Had enough food?” “What about dessert?” She put her fingers to her mouth, muffling a soft inebriated giggle from too much indulgence in everything but what they both wanted most. “You have a bad habit of putting your foot in your mouth.” “I know.” She hiccupped. “Come on. I’m putting you to bed.” “Oh ... okay.” She yawned. “I’m so relaxed, I wish I could just float there.” “You climb out and put on my robe while I turn around.” To his surprise, she offered no protest. He listened to the splash of water behind him and pictured her pale curves and dark nipples caressing his robe. The light sweat pants he wore gave his erection the freedom it needed.


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He scrubbed his hands down his face. “Ready,” she said. When he turned and walked to her, her eyes dropped to his arousal. He made no attempt to hide it. What difference did it make? He could see her struggling to divert her gaze, but she just couldn’t seem to do it. Good. At least he wasn’t the only one suffering. Still, he would have liked to slip his fingers between her legs to test the depths of her torture. He swept her into his arms. “Come on. I’ll float you to the bedroom.” He kissed her forehead. She sighed and snuggled into him, apparently trusting that that was exactly what he’d do. In the bedroom, he sat her down at the foot of the bed while he drew down the comforter. “I’ll get some towels and a brush.” He came back minutes later with one of his T-shirts for her to sleep in, but she was already under the covers. “I dried myself with your robe. I was too sleepy to sit up another minute.” “I see.” He turned her face to the side. “Let me run the brush through your hair,” he said, taking care to smooth out every wave that tangled on the pillow. “It’ll never dry by morning, but I don’t care,” she murmured when he turned her face and brushed the other side. Then he slipped the T-shirt over her head. She pulled it down under cover of the sheets. “Thank you, Luke.” “For what?” “Everything.” She sighed. “But especially for making me feel so comfortable with you.” It surprised him how happy that made him. He put the brush down on the night table and then kissed her. “Goodnight.” When she closed her eyes, he waited a bit and looked his fill. Her thick lashes fanned delicate cheekbones and her lips looked full and relaxed in sleep. He lifted a silky


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strand of hair off the pillow. He wanted to kiss her senseless, take her with a savagery he rarely felt--had never felt. At the same time, he wanted to protect her and make sure no other man got anywhere near her. The thought struck him like a thunderbolt. “Son of a bitch.” He was in love with her.


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CHAPTER TEN

C.J. awoke slowly to distant sounds of traffic horns and street congestion, reluctant to open her eyes and end the most restful sleep she’d had in so long. She stretched and yawned and opened one eye a crack. The bedroom was decorated in generic tones of beige with the two required prints of wildflowers on the wall. She felt like she was in a hotel room. It didn’t surprise her that Luke said he didn’t really live here. The sterile environment, except for the bedroom, now made sense. She sat up, sensing he was gone, and felt an inexplicable wave of loss. She shook off the notion and threw back the covers. She’d forgotten she was in Luke’s T-shirt. When she stood, the hem fell to mid-thigh. Her clothes were gone, even her boots, but at the foot of the bed lay a pair of boxers. She heated at the intimacy of wearing his underwear, but she couldn’t go around buck naked underneath his shirt--as much as he’d probably like it. His desire for her was more than flattering and very puzzling. It was ... irresistible ... almost. But as hard as it was, she was right to keep her distance. And she liked that he respected that. Because she knew, as sure as he must, that she had few defenses against him. She slipped into the boxers and stumbled into the bathroom. Her hair was barely dry and though it was a riot of waves, at least it wasn’t a tangled riot. She splashed her face and brushed her teeth, anxious to find out if she was right in sensing that he was gone. She went down the long hall and peeked in his bedroom. “Luke?” she called. Silence. His bathroom door stood ajar. Light streamed onto the bedsheets that hung from


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every corner of the bed and trailed along the carpet, draping everywhere but the mattress. She drifted in to see a pillow on the floor, another at the foot of the bed, and one balled up in the center. Only one large pillow lay at the headboard, at an awry angle, but with a soft depression where his head had rested. She walked over and picked it up. She breathed in his scent and then she dropped down with longing onto the bed and smoothed her palm along the bottom sheet where he had lain and sighed. If he had just left, it would still be warm to her touch, but it wasn’t. Still, his scent was everywhere and the sudden need to be near him was strong. She left and walked back down the hall. A soft, city-bred, voice called his name. “Luke? Darling?” A tall lithe blond had turned the corner from the foyer and was starting down the hall. She halted when she saw C.J., her eyes sweeping quickly over her. “Who are you?” She glanced behind C.J. toward Luke’s bedroom. “And where is Luke?” “He wasn’t here when I woke up,” C.J. answered without thinking. The woman stood rigid. Her hair was as pale as her flawless skin and pulled back off her face in a clip. But unlike the way C.J. often wore her hair, every hair on this woman’s head was combed into compliance. Let down, it would fall like a short sheet of silk. She was tall, waif thin, and looked like a perfume model. C.J. glanced down involuntarily at her own rumpled appearance. She tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind one ear and waited. She didn’t owe this woman any explanation even though she had to be the infamous perfect girlfriend, Serena. “Well...” Serena smoothed the front of her impeccably ironed silk blouse and lifted her chin. “I guess this is the reason he’s been gone for three days.” C.J. didn’t appreciate being referred to as a this, but she kept her tongue. “Let me give you some advice.” Serena gave C.J. a tight smile. “Luke is easily bored.” She tilted her head and idly fingered a diamond stud in her earlobe in a nervous gesture that C.J. bet she rarely allowed herself. C.J. couldn’t blame her. If she was in the position of being in danger of losing someone like Luke, she’d be anxious, too.


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“I should have taken that advice myself, months ago, when it was offered,” Serena continued, “but I didn’t.” She dropped her hand. “You seem like a nice young woman, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you.” The outside door opened and shut. “C.J.?” Luke’s voice called from the foyer. “You up, honey?” They both turned to see him, arms loaded with grocery sacks, come to a dead stop. “Serena, what are you doing here?” He stepped down into the living room and dumped the packages onto the couch. She stepped down with him, clutching her designer shoulder bag close to her side. Luke glanced back at C.J. who stood at the far end of the hall. Then he frowned down at Serena. “How did you get in?” “I let myself in, darling.” “How did you get a key?” “That’s hardly relevant, don’t you think?” “It’s very relevant. You got it from Robert, didn’t you? You told him I said it was all right.” C.J. watched their profiles as they both stood their ground, Luke’s in a scowl and Serena’s feigning surprise. C.J. did an about face and started down the hall. “C.J.,” Luke growled. “Stay right here.” “I was just go--” “Stay right here,” he repeated, gritting his teeth. C.J. stood still. Serena fanned her hand across Luke’s chest. “Darling, I’d like a moment alone with you.” He circled her wrist and removed her hand and then stepped back. “I’m sorry, Serena. I was going to see you today and tell you before you heard from someone else that C.J. and I are engaged.” “Engaged?” C.J. winced for Serena.


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“Well, that’s ... that’s preposterous,” Serena gasped. C.J. started to protest but Luke held up a hand and walked up to her. “Don’t say a word, C.J.,” he said, his tone a warning but his eyes lit with an amusement that only she could see. C.J. rolled her eyes. He stood beside her and encircled her waist, facing Serena. “Now that I’ve told you, Serena, it’s probably best that you go.” “Luke, listen, I understand, I truly do,” Serena said, her tone reasonable. She smoothed non-existent wisps of hair back in place with finely boned fingers. C.J. noticed inanely that her long nails were painted the color of shimmering pearls. “C ... J, is it? She’s really quite cute, and young, but really, Luke.” She gave him a patient smile. C.J. bolted forward, not sure what she would do, but she couldn’t just stand there while Serena insulted her. Luke locked his arm around her and yanked her back. “Easy,” he murmured into her ear. He set C.J. in back of him and walked up to Serena, but C.J. came around from behind to watch. “Come on, Serena,” he said. “I’ll walk you to the door.” He moved to take her arm, but she shifted away. She lifted her chin. “I can walk myself out.” When she got to the door, Luke called after her. “Serena?” C.J. felt badly when Serena turned and saw hope flicker across her face. “Yes, Luke?” “The key?” He held out his hand. She stiffened, then slipped her hand into her purse and retrieved a single key. She placed it carefully in Luke’s palm and then with dignity turned and let herself out. Luke hung his head a moment and then turned back to C.J. “I would have thrown it at you,” C.J. said. Luke gave her a sheepish look. “Yeah, I’m sure you would have.” “I sort of admire her persistence, but it’s wasted on the likes of you.” “Is that right?” “Last week you’re dating her and now you’re engaged?” C.J. gave a little snort. “You


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didn’t need to set up a stupid engagement. You could have just told her.” C.J braced a hand on her hip. “Yup, if I was her, I’d say good riddance to you!” “You would, huh, C. ... J. is it?” His lips twitched. “Don’t you think it’d be easier if you just told people your name?” “No.” She headed toward the grocery bags. “What food did you bring?” He chuckled. “How could you be hungry after what you ate last night, Christy?” he asked, following her. “Nice try.” A half hour later they were enjoying a Spanish omelet with bagels, home fries, fresh squeezed orange juice, and a rich hazelnut coffee made from ground beans. C.J. thought she could easily get used to this. When the doorbell rang near the end of breakfast, Luke ushered in a woman with several men trailing behind her carrying boxes and a clothes rack on wheels covered with plastic. Luke pulled C.J. forward. “C.J., I’d like you to meet Rita. She’s brought a truckload of clothes for you try on.” “Clothes?” “C.J.?” Rita nodded. The tall, fashionable woman extended her hand. “What does that stand for?” Luke guffawed. “It’s a secret.” C.J. shot him a glare. Rita studied C.J. a moment, her eyes roving over her face and hair, and then smiled. “I’ll have the men bring the boxes into your room, Luke.” “Just put them in the guest room, Rita. C.J. will have more room there.” “Fine,” Ruth said. “I’ll go unpack them for you.” “I can do it,” C.J. said. Rita waved her away. “Don’t be silly. Finish your breakfast. I’m sorry I interrupted.” Later that morning, C.J. stood amidst a pile of every length, color, and style of clothes a girl could want. She even had several pairs of shoes from which to choose. And


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of course Luke hadn’t forgotten lingerie. The bras were 34A’s. “How did you know my size?” “Let’s see.” He held up his hands, cupped them, and then made a show of looking inside. “Lucky guess.” “Very funny.” She could feel her ears grow hot. “You’ll have to choose something for tonight.” “Where are my own clothes?” “They’re being cleaned. You’ll have them by late today.” “Good. Because I’m not keeping any of these. I’ll only use some of them while I’m here.” His expression looked somber. “I want you to have them, C.J.” “Giving me my land is plenty.” She picked up a silky ivory blouse similar to the one Serena wore today. “I’m glad you thought to get me clothes. I don’t fit in as it is--” “That’s not why I got them,”--he came up behind her and turned her to face him-“Cathy?” “Wrong again.” He sighed. “Isn’t it a little ridiculous that we’re engaged and I don’t know your name?” “It would be, I suppose, if we were engaged. But we’re not.” She dropped a pair of shorts onto the bed. “Where are we going tonight?” It occurred to her that not only would she have to look the part, but she’d have to act the part, too. Luke drew her over to the free-standing closet in the corner. “We’re having dinner at my father’s club.” He opened the heavy walnut doors. “You can wear one of these. Rita brought shoes to match the outfits.” “Heels? I hope not.” “Why?” “I can’t walk in them, that’s why.” “Well. Look them over.” Then he pointed to a large pink quilted box on the dresser. “She sent this over when you were in the shower.”


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C.J. walked over and opened it up. An array of jewelry shined back at her, mostly small pieces and delicate, prettier than anything she’d ever seen. “And this, too.” Luke held up a small satin zipper pouch. “Makeup. You don’t have to wear it, if you don’t want, but--” “I’ll wear it,” she said, remembering how perfectly put together Serena had been. Luke had to have been attracted to her in some ways. “I know how to put on makeup.” She hadn’t meant to sound so defensive. Luke held up a hand. “Fine. Use whatever you want ... Cara.” She stuck her tongue out at him. He just laughed. **** Luke was not handling this new revelation well. He’d known C.J. for only four days. No way could he be in love with her. Her impulsive nature must be wearing off on him, and the tension of him having to face everyone since he’d returned home had apparently gotten to him and clouded his thinking, suspending it altogether. Except he hadn’t felt tense. He’d felt happy. And he reluctantly admitted that he would never have gotten this far in life if he was susceptible to muddled thinking, no matter how difficult the challenge. And he had definitely never been in love before. Or even thought he’d been in love. Damned if he could figure out what was happening to him. He glanced at his watch. Time to meet with Ruth and his father. He walked down the hall and knocked on C.J.’s door. Then he walked right in with a proprietary air that he had no right claiming. She was standing in front of the mirror and turned to look at him. Words stuck in his throat. “This look okay?” she asked, straightening her posture and giving a small tug on her dress.


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She was backlit by golden light. He walked toward her slowly, taking in every detail. The dark gold dress was sleeveless and square necked, showing no more than a tempting peek of cleavage. The length ended just above her knee, but the simple lines that hugged her figure discreetly but left no doubt as to her shape beneath had his blood rushing south. Behind her, the mirror reflected her bare back, the fabric cutting low and ending at the graceful curve where supple spine met smoothly rounded bottom. “Is it okay, Luke?” she asked, her voice filled with uncertainty. “I couldn’t wear those really fancy ones. It just wasn’t me.” He fingered the dress at her shoulder. It shimmered around her body. “It’s beautiful,” he said, his voice husky. “What’s this?” He trailed a finger along her high cheekbone. She had dusted her cheeks and chin with a light bronze powder and her lashes were touched with a dark color, making her amber eyes all the more golden. Little amber stones glittered on her earlobes. Other than that, it was the only jewelry she wore. Her fingered her earlobe. “I thought they might go with my eyes,” she said, her voice tentative. “What did you do to your mouth?” he asked, staring at the deep bronze sheen along her lips. “It’s all wrong, isn’t it?” She whirled on him and headed for the dressing table and reached for the tissue box. “No.” He grabbed her wrist and turned her to face him. “You look ...” He almost said perfect, but that wasn’t right. And beautiful was overused, too common for how he felt. “You look ...” She folded her arms. “Well?” He laughed. If he didn’t come up with something, she’d sock him. He touched his finger to her bottom lip. “You look ... like dawn rising above the desert horizon.” She blinked. “Oh ...” He tried to give her a reassuring smile but he was too moved by what he felt. On the one hand, he wanted to take her out and show her off to the world, and on the other,


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he wanted to lock her away and keep her all to himself. His eyes moved over her face. “Luke? What’s wrong?” How could be explain to her what he didn’t understand himself? She placed her hand over his. “Are you having second thoughts? I mean, we’ve hardly begun. I won’t blow this, I promise.” He let out a breath, making an effort to pull himself together. “I’m not having second thoughts.” He reached behind her hair and pulled out the clip. “But wear your hair down.” He took thick sections of her hair and fanned it so it was just touching her shoulders. “It looks too messy like that. I want to make a good impression.” “Trust me. You look fine.” **** C.J. knew she was in trouble when the maitre d’, who escorted her and Luke through the sea of tables draped with not one but two white tablecloths, whispered when he spoke. And it was so dark, she was sure she’d trip over something since she could barely walk in the low-heeled, strappy sandals that were cute but offered no support. While they waited for Ruth and his father to arrive, a waiter came over and took her napkin off her plate and placed it on her lap while a different waiter poured water and another offered to bring them drinks. Her head was spinning by the time her drink came. She was tempted to gulp it down to calm her nerves but she needed to stay clear headed tonight. The large plate before her looked like solid gold. She leaned in to Luke and whispered. “We’re not going to eat off these, are we?” “As a matter of fact, no.” He grinned. “It’s called a charger.” When she looked at him blankly, he said, “You know, a place holder.” She wasn’t sure if he was kidding, but she wasn’t going to show her ignorance by asking. The table was filled with a bunch of things she didn’t recognize and they hadn’t


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even started eating. Her palms began to sweat. She wiped them on her cloth napkin and then spied the row of forks beside her “place holder,” and her anxiety increased. She gave Luke a jab. “What am I supposed to do with all tho--” She quieted when another waiter showed up carrying a tray of tiny foods, none of which C.J. could identify. Her stomach tightened. As soon as he left, C.J. said, “About those forks?” Luke placed his drink down and tipped her chin up. “Don’t worry, C.J., it’s not important.” “Not to you it isn’t,” she said, her panic rising, knowing that his dad and aunt would arrive any moment, “because you know what to do.” His eyes softened. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” He pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss that would have calmed her nerves were she not so attracted to him. “It’s like this,” he explained. “You just work from outside in. For example, if we get salad first, then we use this fork.” He touched the fork farthest from the plate. “On the other hand, if we get soup first” --he pointed to the row of spoons and knifes on the right- “then we use this spoon, the one farthest from the plate. See? It’s easy.” She nodded, relieved. Until she counted the glasses. One was already filled with water so that was a no brainer. “If I use every one of those glasses, I’ll be floating out of here. What’s with all of these?” He let out a bark of laughter. “Now the glasses are easier. You don’t have to decide which one to use. They’ll be filled for you and you can either drink them or not.” “Seems like a waste if you ask me.” He smiled down at her, not a hint of teasing in his expression. “You may be right. We’ll get champagne and liqueur poured whether we want it or not. ’Course, all of this activity produces jobs.” C.J. had never thought of it that way. They may have ten waiters, but it also meant ten jobs. “Good evening, you two.” Luke’s aunt greeted them with a smile. Luke rose, kissed her cheek, and then shook his father’s hand. While Luke’s father seated Ruth, they


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both nodded warmly at C.J. Mr. Dutton insisted she call him Bill and call Luke’s aunt, Ruth. C.J. appreciated the gesture, but rather than tell them she wasn’t raised that way, she simply acknowledged them with a smile. Luckily, another waiter appeared and stood at attention before she got to call them anything. While the waiter took their drink order, another placed a stack of little dishes in the center of the table. C.J. studied the tray of food they had yet to eat. She thought she recognized a mushroom but she couldn’t be sure and she was starved. But she waited to see what everyone else would do. By the time wine was ordered and menus studied, C.J. had had enough time to observe Ruth and Bill a bit and catch her breath. She merely nodded and smiled during the small talk, relieved that they hadn’t bombarded her with questions right off, but still she worried her reprieve wouldn’t last. “Let’s see,” Luke said, looking over the tray of unrecognizable food. “What would you like on here, C.J.?” He picked up some fancy toothpicks, ready to poke her choice. “Why don’t you pick for me?” He gave her a knowing smile. “Good idea.” Then he served Ruth and Bill, during which time C.J. discovered the names of some things. While she was right about the mushroom, she could have sworn Ruth asked for a snail. C.J. shuddered, glad Luke hadn’t put one of those on her plate. She had just started to relax and enjoy what Luke had given her when her reprieve ended. “So, C.J.” Ruth gave her a reserved but not unkind smile. She looked like an older version of Serena. She was trim, her skin almost unlined, and yet C.J. judged her to be about seventy. Her short hair was combed back off her face in a tasteful bob, making C.J. self-conscious about her own wild mane. Ruth picked up her wine glass with unpainted but beautifully manicured nails. “Are you from this area?” C.J. wiped her mouth and swallowed her food before speaking. “I grew up on a


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ranch in Oklahoma, ma’am, and I still live there.” “Oh, your parents own a ranch?” “Not anymore. Both my parents passed away.” “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re so young, dear,” Ruth said, the sympathy in her voice genuine. Luke reached over and took her hand. The tender gesture meant more to C.J. than he could know. It almost felt like they were a real couple. “You run the ranch by yourself now?” Bill asked, his brow furrowing in the same way Luke’s did when he tried to be serious. “No, my stepfather has it. But I’m working on getting it back.” Bill studied her a minute. “A ranch in Oklahoma, you say?” When she told him yes, he and Ruth cut each other a quick glance and Luke shifted beside her. “I see,” Ruth and Bill said in unison, then sat back in silence as though the news surprised them. After a moment, Ruth cleared her throat. “Then, do you work in Oklahoma?” “Yes, I help run a small airfield. I check the planes in and out, refuel, do small repairs, grade the runway, that kind of thing. My buddy from the Air Force, Mitch Gerard, owns the field along with his parents.” “Air Force?” Bill sat forward. “Yes, sir. I went in when I was eighteen. Since I wasn’t a college graduate, the government wouldn’t teach me to fly, but I learned a lot being around planes and on my off duty hours learned to fly at Mitch’s family airport in exchange for working there. I got my civilian license a few years ago.” Ruth couldn’t have looked more puzzled if she tried, C.J. thought. “I see,” Bill said. “I take it you like flying?” He gave her an amused frown. C.J. couldn’t help but think how much Bill reminded her of Luke. Maybe less powerfully built and a few inches shorter, but with the same strong jaw and laugh lines that etched tanned skin. “I love flying. Almost as much as I do riding.”


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“Riding?” Ruth straightened and eyed C.J. with unusual interest. “Yes, ma’am. Riding horses.” Both Ruth and Bill raised their brows in surprise. C.J. gave a little frown. “You remember I said I was raised on a ranch?” “Of course.” Ruth nodded. Bill picked up her rhythm and nodded along with her, still C.J. couldn’t help but detect their anxiety. But she reminded herself that in their eyes Luke had gone hog-wild, run off with some strange girl and come back engaged. C.J. was feeling more ridiculous by the minute. Wasn’t Luke supposed to be helping her here? “Will you excuse me?” C.J. had to escape to catch her breath. She practically ran to the ladies room. Luke watched Ruth and his father’s eyes follow C.J.’s retreat, knowing he was about to get blasted. As soon as C.J. was out of ear shot, the interrogation began. “What’s this about, Luke?” His father folded his arms across his chest, reminding Luke of the days when he was a teenager and would drag himself in hours past curfew ready with some tall-tale he knew his father would never accept. Luke always tried anyway. Luke smiled brilliantly. “She’s adorable, isn’t she?” They exchanged meaningful glances before turning stone faces back to him. “What?” Luke feigned bewilderment. “We’re waiting,” Ruth said, tapping her nails on the arm of her chair. “Well,” Luke said, “I know it’s hard to grasp, but it was love at first sight--” “Exactly when was that?” his father asked. “When she held you at gunpoint or--” “What?” Luke shot forward. Ruth pinned him with her steady gaze. “Do we look as stupid as you think we are?” She gave him the same look she’d given him when he was fifteen and denied the condoms she’d found in his pockets were his. “We pulled the tape yesterday when you turned up engaged.” Luke ran his hands down his face and moaned. How could he have forgotten the


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security cameras? “Ah, jeez.” He shook his head. “That gun wasn’t even loaded.” They both exchanged incredulous glances. “When did you discover that?” his father asked. “When she was still in my office.” Their eyes widened. “Will you two stop that?” They both looked at him, puzzled. “That.” He pointed to them. “It’s like you’re synchronized swimmers only without the water.” “Son, why would you go with her if you knew the gun was unloaded?” Luke sighed. “It’s complicated.” “We’re not senile, yet,” Ruth deadpanned. “Try us.” Luke groaned. He should have known it wouldn’t be this easy. “Look, can I get back to you on this--” “We’re not clients you can stall.” His father sprang forward. Ruth placed a restraining hand on his father’s arm. His father grumbled but sat back. “Luke,” she said, “Your father wanted to call the police, but when you left that message that you were okay, you truly sounded okay. So then, I didn’t know what to think. Help us out here.” “Is she blackmailing you, Luke?” “Blackmail? What would she be blackmailing me about?” His father threw up his hands. “How should I know? But this has got to be connected with that harebrained cousin of yours and the same land in Oklahoma he’s so all-fired determined to buy.” Luke shifted uneasily, his mind scrambling for how to handle this. His father sighed. “I’ve placed a lot of pressure on you, son. If you’re in some kind of trouble--” Luke’s head snapped up. “C.J. isn’t trouble.” Then he shrugged and gave a


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reluctant smile. “Well, most of the time anyway.” “Well then,” Ruth said, her tone unruffled, “what is she to you? Certainly not your fiancée?” “How do you know?” They stared at him blankly. “Is she?” they both asked as though they had synchronized their speech, too. “Not exactly. But it isn’t so far-fetched.” Ruth said nothing but looked at him with such intensity that Luke thought she was reading his scrambled brain. “Son, you met her less than four days ago,” his father said, “at gunpoint.” “Will you stop bringing that up?” “Boys.” Ruth gave them a warning look to lower their voices. “Listen.” She dotted her mouth with the napkin. “It’s obvious you find her attractive, any man would. And if you went with her for that reason, well--” “Did you go with that girl just to get her in bed?” his father barked. “Bill,” Ruth cajoled. “Calm down. Luke will explain everything.” She pinned Luke with an expectant look. “Is that why you left with her?” “No. Not completely. At any rate. It didn’t work,” Luke grumbled. His aunt raised a speculative brow and exchanged a look with his father. Luke glanced up to see C.J. coming down the aisle. He leaned forward and whispered. “Look, just work with me on this, okay? C.J. doesn’t even know I knew the gun was unloaded.” “She what?” His father looked ready to burst a blood vessel. Ruth rested her hand on his father’s and then all three of them turned to smile at C.J.’s approach.


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CHAPTER ELEVEN

The next day while C.J. was touching up her lipstick in her bedroom, Luke walked right in, unannounced, as though he had the right. Trouble was, C.J. welcomed it. The small sensible part of her knew she was asking for trouble, but the foolish part of her wouldn’t listen. He walked up close and fingered the blunt edges of her hair that she had yet to pull back. “How long will you be gone?” he asked, his voice husky. She’d come to know that look. She’s been running from it all week. Half running. The other half was busy holding herself back. “Ruth said it would take all day to find a dress. And then there’s shoes and stuff.” “Then I’ll just have to tell my aunt to be efficient about it and bring you back to me soon.” He bent down to kiss her and, like all week, she had no will to resist him. His lips were so soft, warm, and insistent. His breath fanned her lips and warmed her cheek. “C.J.,” he murmured, “have I told you how much I want you?” His tongue traced her lips. For just a moment she allowed herself the pleasure of his taste that had grown so familiar to her. The hot texture of his tongue tangling with hers made her shiver. With a sigh of regret she pulled away, her lips wet with his taste. “Your aunt will be here any minute.” “We can kiss until then,” he murmured, gently pressing his hips to hers and nipping at her lips. He slid himself against her, casually, undemanding, simply enjoying the feel of their bodies mingling even if a frustrating barrier of clothing separated them. It was times like this she found so hard to rid her mind of how he had felt between her thighs that long week ago, because no matter how aroused he became he was as good as


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his word. He hadn’t tried to seduce her and for that she could strangle him. If he did, they could have their pleasure, and she could blame him before they returned to her stance of insisting they keep their distance. As though that would ever happen. She knew as sure as she knew horses love apples that once she felt his hands on her again, there’d be no turning back. She’d be lost and until she was out of the woods, her land securely back with her, she couldn’t afford any detours. When she stepped back, he dropped his hands from her waist, his neck still flushed with arousal. She didn’t dare drop her eyes. He trailed an idle finger along her cheek. “Mitch called when you were in the shower.” “Oh?” “He got your message and he wanted to let you know not to worry and that he’s just glad things are working out.” “Good.” C.J. had felt guilty for leaving him in the lurch, so she’d kept in touch with him since they’d arrived. She hadn’t been specific with him just how things were working out because she didn’t know herself. Apparently, her vague assurance was enough. She wished it were the same for her. While getting back her land was wonderful, it meant she’d leave and have no reason to see Luke again. But not getting her land back was worse. Or was it? Yes, but because it would mean he had tricked her all along. Yet, how could she still believe he’d do that? Did she believe it? She shook off the disturbing thought and turned her attention back to him. “What are you going to do today?” she asked. “I have work I can catch up on. When you get home, I’ll take you out--” “No, Luke.” She laid her hand along his cheek. “I just want to stay in tonight.” He circled her wrist and stroked the pulse beating rapidly with his thumb. “You’ve been wonderful, Luke, showing me around Dallas practically every night, but I know you’re tired. Besides, I liked the night we camped out in your living


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room, eating popcorn, and watching re-runs of Family Ties.” All the fancy restaurants and theaters in Dallas that he’d taken her to couldn’t compare to that one night. “So did I.” He smiled with such tenderness, she hardly recognized the man of a week ago. The buzzer sounded. And just in time. She didn’t trust herself with him. And the thought nagged her that she feared more than her sexual vulnerability. She was afraid she was falling in love with him. She gave herself a mental shake. How stupid would that be? She pressed the intercom. “Yes, Robert?” “Good Morning, C.J., Ms. Daniels is here for you.” “Thanks. Tell Ruth I’ll be right down.” She glanced in the mirror and smoothed her hand down the long silky skirt and made sure the barrette that tied back her hair was securely fastened. Luke was right behind her. He kissed the top of her head and sighed. “Guess I’ll get some work done. Have fun,” he said to her reflection. “I’ll see you when you get back.” She smiled. At times like this, they seemed like a real couple, and the thought of how much pleasure that gave her, worried her. She even enjoyed his staff. When his driver Pete picked her up to meet Luke for lunch, they talked about the rodeo. And while waiting for Luke in the lobby, C.J. talked to Jennifer, the receptionist, and even Henry and Joe, the security guards. It was all getting too cozy for C.J.’s comfort. Outside, Robert stood beside a silver Mercedes, ready to open her door. She had told him more than once that his hopping around and little bows were annoying. But he just laughed. But then Luke told her that while all the hovering might make her uncomfortable, it was his job. She learned later that Robert had put two kids through college on his doorman’s job. It was a union position that offered sound benefits and good job security. No matter how bad the economy got, Robert told her, there would always be rich people. C.J. nodded at him now, primly. He winked back. “Ms. Wilson.” He smiled. “Have a good day.”


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“Thank you, Robert.” She returned the wink and slid into the front seat of an interior that looked and felt as smooth as melted butterscotch. Ruth smiled at her. “Good morning. Are you up to our challenge?” C.J. laughed. “I think so, ma’am.” “Please. Call me Ruth.” Yesterday, C.J. was grateful when Ruth suggested she’d help C.J. pick out a dress for the Tyler dinner. The evening was an important one. Luke was expected to present industry awards since his father’s company was one of its largest sponsors, but when Ruth told C.J. that everyone from Who’s Who in Dallas would be there, C.J.’s anxiety had quadrupled. Now when C.J. didn’t answer, Ruth gave her a little frown. “C.J.?” “So, where are we going first?” she asked Ruth in an effort to distract her. Ruth pulled out into the bustling traffic. “We’ll start with a boutique Rita recommended. The shops I frequent cater to tall women and the cut of my dresses are more conservative.” She smiled. “In other words, they show less skin, which is what we older women prefer.” “Thank you for doing this. This dinner is important to Luke, isn’t it?” “Well...” Ruth paused, thoughtful a moment. “In a sense, yes. It’s important for the company and the company is important to Luke’s father,” she said, surveying the traffic. Then she looked directly at C.J., her silvery blue eyes steady. “Luke is devoted to him. So, yes, it’s very important to Luke.” The car slowed to a stop at an intersection. “I need to make a good impression,” C.J. said. Ruth tipped her head to one side, her gaze warm. “You’re very much in love with him, aren’t you?” C.J. swallowed. Ruth’s pleasure with her own question was unmistakable, making C.J. feel like a heel. It hadn’t been so hard pretending she and Luke were in love as long as they weren’t around Ruth and Bill. In fact, it hadn’t been hard at all, which should have been C.J.’s first clue that she was headed for trouble.


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But now C.J. couldn’t outright lie even though Ruth and Bill always looked so pleased with the arrangement. “Well,” she hedged, “we are engaged.” C.J.’s guilt compounded. “Indeed.” Ruth lifted a brow. Thankfully, the traffic moved again and Ruth was forced to turn her probing gaze back to the road. But her lips lifted at the corners as she concentrated on her driving. “It’s quite amusing to watch him race home to you every night, leaving the office in record time compared to his usual hours.” “Oh?” “I don’t remember a single girl, and I’ve been watching them come and go since he was thirteen, that has cast such a spell over him. Of course,” she said, veering into the right lane and making a turn, “I haven’t been around him as much in the past ten years, but if the last year is any indication, not much had changed until you came along. But”-she turned back to C.J. and gave her a warm smile--“as you say, you are engaged.” “I’m not taking him away from his work, am I?” C.J. asked, hoping to change the subject. Ruth chuckled. “Yes, but he hardly needs to be there. Thanks to him, things are running smoothly. He’ll be able to return to his own work soon.” C.J. wanted to ask where that was but knew Ruth would think it odd that C.J. didn’t know. Ruth gave her a speculative look and then pulled into a curved drive in front of a tall chrome building with tinted glass. A valet appeared at Ruth’s door. “Here we are,” Ruth said. The valet helped her out while another raced around to rescue C.J. She made a mental note to follow up on their conversation, discreetly, and try to get some answers to questions Luke seemed to avoid. Once inside, they took a glass elevator to the third floor and then stepped into a lushly carpeted lobby with comfortable sofas and antique end tables stacked with fashion magazines. A woman no older than C.J. dressed in a long satiny gown came around the corner and smiled brightly at an older gentleman, who sat in an overstuffed chair, drinks


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and snacks at his elbow. “How do you like it, Ted?” “It’s perfect.” The man turned to the smartly dressed salesperson bedside her. “Put it on my tab, Deirdre.” “Certainly, sir.” C.J. wondered, only half surprised, if they were married. She knew firsthand what it meant to be without family and desperate. Still, C.J. couldn’t help but believe that she wouldn’t go to those lengths for security. Not after witnessing the love her parents had shared. “Come, dear.” Ruth guided her through the arch into the showroom. Tall circular racks of shimmering fabrics filled the brightly lit room and reflected back in the mirrored walls. Low soothing music filled the air but still couldn’t disguise the underlying urgency as saleswomen offered dresses to young customers who took suggestions casually, unaware of the stakes. C.J. would bet there wasn’t a dress under one grand in this place. Ruth nudged her forward. Immediately, a slender, exotic-looking woman in her forties or fifties approached. From her time in the Air Force, C.J. recognized her for perhaps a mixture of Filipino and African-American. When she greeted C.J. her speech held a slight accent. Her wrists were wrapped with delicate bracelets, the gold glowing against her olive skin. She oozed sophistication. C.J. figured her for a former model. “Ms. Daniels, I’m Kira.” The woman smiled and extended her hand. “And this must be Ms. Wilson,” she said, turning to C.J. and allowing her eyes to drop discreetly down her body. “Rita told me to expect you. It will be a pleasure serving you.” C.J. nearly groaned aloud. “Before we get started, may I get you some refreshment?” C.J. didn’t know what to make of any of this. She turned to Ruth and followed her lead. “I think we’re anxious to get started, aren’t we C.J.?” Ruth had gotten the anxious part right, but C.J. just nodded.


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The next hour had C.J. dressing and modeling for both women. She might as well have just brought a manikin along for all her opinion counted. Every dress was strapless and hugged her figure so close, C.J. was sure a person could count her ribs. And some material was so sheer, they could count her freckles, too. For two older women, they oohed and aahed over some pretty racy numbers. “It’s lovely, dear,” Ruth said, fingering the latest creation, heavily beaded midnight blue, floor-length, sequined with silver highlights. C.J. found it almost impossible to keep it from sliding down. She tugged the bodice up. “No.” Ruth placed her hand over C.J.’s. “You have lovely skin. Let a little show.” “A little?” C.J. gawked. “Any more and my nip--” C.J. colored. “That is ...” “It’s okay, dear. I know what nipples are.” She gave her an amused frown. Kira stepped forward. “Here, I brought this bustier. It’ll hold everything up and give your breasts a beautiful shape. C.J. choked back a laugh. They couldn’t expect her to wear the black lace contraption. Could they? They did. They shoved her back into the dressing room and expected her to put it on. When she did, she saw that it was cut high, baring her backside, and the front only half covered her nipples, pushing her breasts up so that she actually had cleavage. She looked like a hooker. “Are you ready?” Kira called, before dragging her out of the dressing room. They slipped the dress over her once again and zipped and turned her, tucking and pulling, looking as pleased as if they were sending her down the runway of the Miss America pageant. Their eyes sparkled as they studied her. “Shoes,” they said in unison. When Kira returned with three-inch heels, C.J. put a stop to it. “I won’t walk around half-naked and on stilts, too.” Ruth laughed. Addressing Kira she said, “Maybe a lower heel and a little thicker.” Kira appeared within seconds with black strappy sandals that offered surprising support. Then she held up black sheer stockings with lacey tops.


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“How am I supposed to hold up those?” C.J. asked. “They’re elastic.” Kira gave the tops a little snap. “They hug your thighs.” “Luke will like them,” Ruth said. C.J.’s mouth dropped. “Well, he will,” she clipped. C.J.’s face colored. She would not get into that. Ruth turned to Kira. “You’ve been wonderful. We’ll take it all.” C.J. wanted to protest but knew it was fruitless. “Shall we find a place to lunch?” Now to that, C.J. would agree. Ruth took her to an outdoor café that served breakfast until two o’clock. C.J. wasted no time ordering a Mexican omelet over a tortilla with frijoles and a Chile Rellano on the side. All the dressing and undressing had her starving. She was so comfortable with Ruth that she had almost forgotten her manners. She forced herself to slow down. When she looked up to engage in conversation, Ruth was smiling at her. “You have quite an appetite for such a tiny thing.” C.J. eyed Ruth’s fruit plate and salad. “Yes, ma-- Ruth. I always have.” “You remind me of Luke’s mother.” C.J. put her fork down. “Ma’am?” Ruth’s eyes clouded for just a moment before they brightened and then warmed. “We were great friends despite how different we were ... or perhaps because of it.” “Tell me about her.” Her eyes softened with understanding. “I guess Luke hasn’t been able to tell you much. He was so small when she passed. I’m afraid most of what he knows comes from me.” “But what about his father?” Ruth glanced away with a sadness filling her eyes that suddenly made her look her age. “Bill never got over her death. She was so young. Cancer. Luke was only five.


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Bill never talks about her.” She sighed. “It wasn’t right. I made sure Luke grew up knowing about his mother.” “It’s terrible to lose your parents.” “Yes, it is,” Ruth agreed. “Sallie, Luke’s mother, was Nez-Perce. At least half of her was. The other half was Scottish which explains Luke’s eyes and size. Of course his Nordic heritage from his father’s side contributes to his size, too.” “Luke’s half Indian?” C.J. couldn’t hide her surprise. An Indian corporate executive seemed like a sacrilege. “One quarter.” “You didn’t know?” Ruth eyed her skeptically. “Oh ... I ... don’t know if I remember ...” C.J. let her voice trail off. Damn, she did not want to lie but she looked like an idiot for not knowing something so important. Ruth gave her a knowing smile. “I’m sure you two have more important things to discuss.” C.J. dove for that like a lifeline. “Yes, we do, I mean we have.” “Like the wedding.” “Wedding?” “Have you set a date?” “Ah, we’re ... thinking about it.” “Which date have you thought about?” Ruth smiled pleasantly. The hole C.J. was digging got wider and deeper and she had no idea how to drag herself out of it. “Well, ah...” “You know, dear,” Ruth placed her hand over hers. “I’d be happy to help you out with the plans. My husband and I couldn’t have children. Luke’s been like a son to me.” “You were married?” C.J. asked, grabbing up any track that might derail Ruth’s current train of thought. “Why, yes. Luke hasn’t told you much, has he?” She waved a hand. “Well, never mind about him. He’s in love, that’s obvious, and can’t be expected to keep his head on straight.”


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C.J.’s heart skipped. It was a stupid reaction in which she had no business indulging. She better keep her own head on straight. “My husband and Bill were in business together. Charles died almost ten years ago now. I knew enough about the business to step in and take over some aspects until Bill bought our shares.” “Did you want him to?” “Oh, yes. I really had no interest.” “But you stayed on. Helping him even now?” “Well, yes.” “How long have you been in love with him?” As soon as C.J. said it, she wanted to clamp her hand over her mouth, but what good would that do now? “I beg your pardon?” Ruth blinked. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” “No. Please. Why would you say such a thing?” C.J. shrugged. “Well, your thoughts are connected. It’s like you know what he’s thinking. You worry about him and he depends on you to keep him calm. And he looks to you to help him handle Luke. And you also just look at him, a lot.” C.J. was surprised to see Ruth’s cheeks color. She swallowed. “Yes, well, I helped raise Luke.” “Maybe Bill doesn’t realize it. In the same way you may not realize it. Realize that you’re in love with him, that is.” Ruth blinked rapidly. “My, but you are a perceptive young woman.” Ruth’s hand fluttered to her napkin. She dotted her mouth with deliberate care. “My parents were in love,” C.J. said, matter-of-factly. “So I know what it looks like.” “I see.” Ruth sat back in her chair. “The same way you can see it when Luke looks at you?” C.J. froze. Ruth studied her a moment before she shook her head. “My, all these years.” She


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glanced away. “I wonder if you could be right?” she said more to herself than to C.J. After a time she looked C.J. straight in the eye. “Well”--she dropped her napkin--“I intend to find out.” C.J. smiled. “Good for you.” “I’m seventy years old. What could I be waiting for?” “Damned straight-- I mean...” Ruth patted her hand. “You’re a delight, C.J., truly. Now, please, won’t you tell me your name?” C.J. stopped, so tempted to tell her. While Ruth was older than her mother would have been had she lived, C.J. suspected her name, coming from Ruth, would sound similar to the way she remembered it sounding with her mother, soft and endearing. Still, C.J. shook her head. Ruth sighed. “Very well.” “Ruth, tell me more about Luke?” “What is it you want to know?” Everything, C.J. wanted to say. And yet, she didn’t know where to begin. How could she even ask without throwing suspicion on her relationship with him? What relationship? C.J. was losing her mind. Somehow she had to hang onto her good sense for three more weeks. Ruth gave C.J. a smile. “Luke combines the best of both his parents. You’ve seen the corporate executive side of him, but I believe his love of the outdoors comes from his mother.” “Love of the outdoors?” “Why, yes. He’s a champion fly fisherman and has--” C.J. choked. “Champion?” She started to rise but then coached herself back down. Ruth’s eyes probed hers. “I’m surprised he hasn’t mentioned it.” “Me, too.” C.J. managed a sugared smile. “I’m sure it just slipped his mind.” C.J. was going to ring his neck. What else hadn’t he told her? That rat. “C.J.?” Ruth looked at her with concern.


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CHAPTER TWELVE

Luke glanced at the clock. Six already. Were they going to spend the whole day shopping? He tossed the vegetables, adding a drop more olive oil and a pinch of cayenne pepper and chopping the jalapenos into diced cubes. No matter what time of day, C.J. always liked a good spicy omelet. The click of the lock had his pulse picking up. Only C.J. had his key. He put down the spatula, eager to see her. There was no use denying it. He was in love with her. And telling himself all week that it was just unsatisfied lust clouding his brain hadn’t worked. He loved her. Simply her. Every impulsive, aggravating, and achingly vulnerable inch of her. And he was driven now to show her that she wanted more from him than her land, even if she wasn’t yet aware of it herself. Tonight, he would pursue her while still keeping to his word that he would not seduce her. When she came to him, and she would, it would be because she wanted him as much as he wanted her. When he stepped out of the kitchen, she and Ruth had entered, laden with packages with Robert trailing behind and all three headed for the sofas. “Hey,” he called, dropping a dishcloth along a dining room chair and stepping down into the living room. Behind him, the table was set with flowers and candles. “Hello, dear.” His aunt set down the rest of the packages and kissed his cheek. C.J. was thanking Robert as she walked him to the door and the man bowed and scraped like C.J. was the First Lady. Luke would remember to put extra in Robert’s


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Christmas bonus this year, even though earlier he had had to read him the riot act about giving his key to Serena. Ruth motioned toward C.J. “She’s delightful,” she murmured, giving him a meaningful look. “Yes. She is.” His aunt gave his forearm a fond pat. “We found a marvelous dress today which, incidentally, you’re not allowed to see until next week.” Her eyes glittered with amusement. “Oh?” Luke smiled up at C.J. as she walked over from the foyer, but her eyes narrowed in on him like a fox seeking its prey. She stepped down into the living room. His mind scrambled to think of what he could have done to get himself in trouble as he walked his aunt to the door. Just before his aunt slipped out she whispered to him, “Of course, it’s what C.J. will be wearing underneath that will interest you more.” Luke laughed. “Is that right?” Ruth nodded toward the romantic setup in the dining room and called over to C.J. “Enjoy your dinner, you two.” She sailed out the door. As soon as the door closed, Luke went to C.J. and reached for her. C.J. slapped down his hand. “Not so fast.” “What?” “Fly fishing champion?” Her eyes narrowed to slits. Damn. “What are you talking about?” He took an instinctive step back. “Love of the outdoors?” C.J. braced her hands on her hips. “So?” Luke hedged. She threw up her hands. “So you lied to me. That’s what.” “No, I didn’t. You asked me if I knew anything about fishing and I said that I did.” “Not how much you knew.” “I was being modest.” He started to grin, but her eyes flared. “No, you weren’t. You acted like a jackass who didn’t know one lure from the


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other, fumbling like an idiot with a simple tie. You deliberately lied to me--” “Aw, come on. It wasn’t a lie. So I feigned a little ignorance. What’s the big deal?” “The big deal is that I’m not sure what else you didn’t tell me?” “What’s there to tell?” He gave a laugh. “You kidnapped me for your land. I didn’t know that you wanted a relationship, too.” She blinked. “I didn’t.” “So then what are we arguing about?” He moved closer. “Look. So I fumbled with the fishing pole while you held me captive.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “It got me where I wanted. Close to you, breathing in your scent, touching you.” He touched her cheek. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He could see her hesitation. But when he bent to kiss her, she flattened her hands on his chest. “That depends.” She eased him back and eyed him skeptically. “This whole thing with my land. We have nothing in writing. How do I know you weren’t feigning that, too, for your own purposes?” He cupped her chin. “Believe me on that, C.J. You’ll get your land.” “I’ll believe you if you tell me the truth now. Answer my question.” “What question?” “Why did you want me to come back with you and carry on this whole engagement thing?” He looked up at the ceiling. Great. He gave a suffering sigh. He couldn’t lie to her. But he had no idea how she’d react to his confession. “Okay.” He trailed an idle finger along her cheek in a bid for time. “I wasn’t ready to give you up.” She looked mystified. “What do you mean?” He smiled. “I didn’t know myself what it meant. I just knew I wanted you close to me.” “I don’t believe you.” She tried to move away but he blocked her path and towered over her, forcing her to step back from him, until he had her backed against the


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wall. “You don’t believe I wanted you that much?” He flattened his palms against the wall and gave a self-deprecating smile. “I didn’t believe it,” he said, leaning in close and letting his breath warm her. “I still don’t believe it, but it’s true.” Her jaw dropped. “You made up the whole thing just to ... to get me into bed again?” “We never went to bed.” “You know what I mean.” He sighed. “You don’t have to put it that way. I wanted you close, that’s all. I still do. And I’ve barely touched you since.” He tipped her chin up and bent down close. “Right?” “But--” He moved his lips over hers trying to brush away the scowl. She circled his wrist but he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along her lips, urging her to open to him. On a little sigh of surrender, she did, parting her lips so he could slip in smoothly and taste her, coaxing her to him. “Wait.” She swallowed and braced both hands against his chest, but he continued to brush lightly along her lips as she spoke. “This doesn’t make sense. I had you tied up, at gunpoint--” “You mean that useless gun?” Her lips, so soft and yielding a moment ago, stilled. Shit. He was an idiot. “What did you say?” Her voice was deadly calm. When he lifted his lips, he could see the inferno building just below her simmering surface, ready to explode. He shifted his weight. “Look, does it really matter now--” “When?” “When what?” he asked, knowing exactly what she wanted to know and hoping somehow to distract her. “When did you realize it wasn’t loaded?” she screamed.


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“Aw, C.J.--” “When?” She punched his chest. “Tell me.” He grabbed up her wrists. “As soon as you pointed that stupid thing at me in the office.” She sucked in a breath. “Oh, my god.” She yanked out of his grip and turned her back on him. “You made a fool out of me.” “C.J.--” She whirled on him. “The whole time I led you at gunpoint to the helicopter and tied you to the handle of my truck you were laughing at me and plotting how to get me into bed?” she cried. “It wasn’t like that, damn it. You kidnapped me, for Chrissake. What about that? And you wanted me, too. Don’t deny it.” Her breath stopped and her eyes zeroed in on him like darts seeking their bullseye. Then with lightening speed, she reached behind her and picked that hideous sculpture off the coffee table and flung it at him. He ducked just as it whizzed past his ear. Damn, she was good. The sharp tip imbedded itself in the sheet rock on the opposite wall. “I can’t believe anything you say now,” she choked. “That’s because you don’t want to. You’re as afraid as I am.” “You’re crazy,” she shouted. “This last week meant something and you know it.” He took a few cautious steps toward her while he scanned the room for anything else she might throw. “No, I don’t. I just want my land--” “Now who’s lying?” he said, his voice low. When her hand went to the lamp on the end table he darted for it, grabbing it before she did. He dumped it behind the sofa. “You can throw the entire house at me but it’s not going to change things.” She took another swing at him, but he caught her wrists and pulled her against him. “Despite how we got here, it’s a whole different thing now, whether you admit it or


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not.” She struggled in his grip. “How do I know anything? I can’t trust you.” “Yes, you can, damn it!” He wanted to shake her. “Do your father and Ruth know about this?” Aw crap! He might as well just hand her a chair and let her smash it over his head. He dropped her hands. “Do they?” she shrieked. “For Chrissake, C.J.” He ran a hand through his scalp. “They do!” Her eyes were wild. “Who else knows? Serena?” “Serena? Why the hell--” “And what about Robert?” “For God’s sake, C.J.” He stepped toward her. Her arm flew up. “Get away from me.” She flattened her hand against her stomach as if to catch her breath and backed away. “Just stay away from me.” She put up her hand. “I mean it. Don’t you dare come anywhere near me.” With that, she turned on him and ran down the hall.


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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The imposing Del Ray, Dallas’ newest hotel, hummed with limousines lining the circular drive, dropping off everyone who was anybody amongst Dallas’ elite. Banned were the ten-gallon hats and oversized belt buckles that were welcomed almost everywhere but here. If Luke didn’t know better, he’d think he was stepping into the Grand Hyatt on Park Avenue in New York. A long winding staircase led C.J. and him to the second floor ballroom with chandeliers bigger than a moose rack and brighter than the snow capped Tetons in full sun. He surveyed the glittering tables packed with enough silver to fill the Montana mines. He frowned. He missed his ranch. He had no interest in tonight’s pomp and ceremony. His father’s company would have been a large contributor to literacy-based programs for the disadvantaged with or without tonight’s recognition. He pulled on the choking bowtie and opened his tux jacket to get some air. The only good thing about tonight was seeing C.J. wrapped in a blue-beaded number so tight her breasts spilled out the top, sending his imagination into overdrive picturing what was underneath. And though he loved her hair down, with it pinned up, it allowed him to feast his eyes on all the creamy skin that covered her shoulders and back. It would be torture to look at her all night and not touch her, but it couldn’t be much worse than the torture he’d suffered all week. She’d barely spoken to him except to announce that she’d reached a resolution about everything that had happened between them. He was still an idiot, according to her, but not exactly a liar, and she refused to feel humiliated for being so passionate about her land as to kidnap him and smart enough to


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insure she didn’t hurt anyone by toting an unloaded gun. She was simply biding her time now, she told him. Two weeks to go. She’d have her land and be rid of him. He hadn’t touched her in a week and it was killing him. He peered down at her as they waited to be escorted to their table. The delicate sapphire choker that graced her throat caught the overhead light. Tiny matching earrings winked from her earlobes. He slid his finger along the necklace. “I haven’t seen this since my mother wore it.” “Your mother?” She removed his hand. He ignored her slight. “She only wore this set on their anniversary. It was a wedding present from my father and even as a kid I remember his pleasure at seeing her wear it.” “What?” she balked. “I can’t wear this.” “It’s perfect on you. I’m glad my father thought of it.” “Your father? Now I know I can’t wear it. When Ruth brought it over--” “C.J.” Luke took her by the shoulders. Whatever he planned on saying stalled in his throat. The feel of her flesh beneath his palms sent an alert from his brain straight to his groin. The urge to run his hands down the front of her dress did him in. He’d had enough. Enough of all of it. All he wanted was to take her home, tell her the truth, and make love to her. Nothing else mattered now and he didn’t think much else would. Ever. She shrugged out of his hold. He sighed. “C.J., let’s go home.” “What?” “I need to talk to you.” He took her arm forcefully and turned her around. She tugged his arm back. “Your father and Ruth are expecting us.” Luke ran a hand through his hair and huffed out a breath. “What is it, Luke?” It was the first time she’d said his name since they’d fought


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and her eyes softened with concern for just a moment. “Nothing,” he said, studying her. “And everything.” A voice interrupted them. “Sir?” Luke dragged his eyes from her to see a young man with a signature tux greeting them. “May I show you to your table?” C.J. glanced at Luke and then nodded to the waiter. Luke reluctantly followed him to the front of the room toward a round table near the podium. His stomach was tight with agitation. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this tense. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this tense. C.J. poked him and motioned toward the table. “Your father and Ruth are already here.” Luke had agreed not to tell his father and Ruth that C.J. had found him out. He knew C.J. would be watching them closely tonight for signs as to why they would go along with it. Luke wondered himself. When they reached them, Luke’s father rose, greeting C.J. so warmly that all it did was underscore how complicated this whole charade had become. Why couldn’t he have just started out normally with C.J? He could have asked her out to dinner and the next night taken her-- ’Course, when would he have done that? Before she tied him up or after? He suppressed a smile. Nothing had been normal with C.J. Not then and not since. “The necklace looks lovely, dear.” Ruth’s eyes shined as she watched Luke ease C.J. into her chair. He could see his aunt’s disappointment when C.J. returned a guarded smile. C.J. touched her throat. “I hadn’t realized they were Luke’s mother’s wedding present. I shouldn’t wear them.” “Nonsense.” Luke’s father’s eyes were as bright as Ruth’s and just as misty. “You’re engaged to my son, aren’t you?” Luke winced. You would think they actually believed he and C.J. were engaged. For her part, C.J. never missed a beat. She smiled noncommittally, but her lack of warmth


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went apparently unnoticed by his father. His father’s eyes glistened. “Sallie loved sapphires. Particularly those from the Yogo Gulch. She used to say that Luke’s eyes--” “Dad.” Luke rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard this a million times.” “What?” “That my eyes were mined from the Yogo Gulch.” “How?” “I told him, Bill.” Ruth placed her had over his. His father’s eyes widened. He took her hand. “Of course you would have. That was a wonderful thing to do,” he said, his voice rough. Luke raised a brow, his eyes dropping to their entwined hands. What had he missed? He felt like he had entered the twilight zone. An unwelcome, familiar voice sounded behind him. “Luke ...” He groaned inwardly but rose to acknowledge Serena. When she extended her gloved hand, he took it. “It’s so good to see you.” She scanned the table. “Ruth, Bill?” She then nodded at C.J. “And, of course, C ... J, is it?” She flashed a brilliant smile. “What does that stand for?” C.J.’s eyes bore into Serena. “C.J.” she said flatly. Luke smiled to himself. C.J. was jealous as hell. His spirits lifted. “Are your parents here tonight, Serena?” Luke asked, feeling magnanimous. “Why, yes, they are.” She came around C.J.’s chair and smiled up at him. “Would you like to come say hello?” She rested her hand on his forearm. “Maybe later.” He smiled. When Luke glanced at his father, he was giving Luke the same lethal stare Luke remembered when he was seventeen and flirting with the waitress at the country club instead of with his date.


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The theme to the Twilight Zone played in Luke’s head. Luke thought his father liked Serena. Ruth’s gaze was burning a hole in his throat. Had everyone gone crazy? Before he could give it much thought, the other dinner guests approached and began introducing themselves. Serena smiled at Luke. “I’ll see you later then?” “Sure, I’ll come over and say hi.” Blinding pain shot up his leg. “Hey." He looked down at C.J. but she wasn’t looking at him. She was smiling pleasantly as people seated themselves at the same time she was grinding her heel into his instep. Serena flitted off. Luke jerked his foot out from under C.J.’s and circled her wrist. “Come with me.” When she tried to slip out of his grip, he said, “We’re dancing.” Her annoyed look turned into panic. “No.” A tug of war ensued with Luke pulling subtly on her to stand and C.J. tucking her arm fast at her side. His father and Ruth watched them with curiosity. He bent down and growled in her ear. “Unless you want to make a scene, you’d better listen to me.” He hated using her discomfort in formal situations against her, but right now what he wanted most was to hold her. Finally she allowed him to lift her out of the seat and practically drag her onto the dance floor. Once there, heads turned to watch them. As their audience whispered to one another, Luke suspected more than one was speculating as to just who C.J. was. When he drew her into his arms, she held herself rigidly from him, but he knew she’d behave with everybody’s eyes on them. He brushed his lips over her ear. “Relax and just let me lead.” He smiled when she blew out a breath. When he looked up, Serena was standing a distance away, talking with a small group of women, one eye trained on him and C.J. He wasn’t proud of the way he had treated Serena through all this, but he knew she was the epitome of decorum and would behave, too. C.J. trembled in his arms and was clutching his hand so tight he thought she’d break her fingers.


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He ran his lips along her temple and flattened his hand against the small of her back, pressing his hips to hers. “Dancing is just making love standing up.” He smiled against her skin. “Let yourself feel the heat and surrender to me.” She gave a little snort, but when he slid his hand up onto her bare back her breath hitched in her throat. He fanned his palm along skin that grew hotter with his touch. A little band of perspiration dampened her forehead. He pressed his lips to the salty taste. His growing erection would soon be tenting his pants. He wanted her more than anything and at that moment realized that he would give everything to make her his. The life that he’d always treasured would be empty without C.J. “Luke, I want to sit down now.” When he slid his hips along hers she shuddered delicately in his arms. “The song’s not over.” He pressed against her. C.J. couldn’t catch her breath. She wanted to throttle him. She’d sworn to herself that she would never feel this vulnerable again and now Luke had done just that. She was shaking from the feel of his body so close to hers. The aftershave mixing with the scent of his skin smelled so delicious. And he felt so warm, strong and solid. The need to melt into him fought with the reason that warned her that it was an illusion. Because she might as well have been standing on quicksand for all the security he offered. Theirs was a tenuous agreement that she still couldn’t understand. She had not gotten her land because he insisted she owed him another week, which she did, but why? What purpose did she serve now? The times they’d been alone, she refused to even talk to him, let alone succumb to him sexually. Her only conclusion was that somehow her purpose involved Serena. The way he greeted her so warmly tonight all but confirmed it. C.J. pushed discreetly against his chest, desperately needing to break the physical contact. The play of hard muscle beneath his formal shirt and his body’s heat under her palms only fueled her anxiety. She refused to think about the erection prodding her belly. When she glanced about the room, Serena was still standing with her small group


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of friends, one more perfect than the other and, although they pretended not to, they were watching C.J. and Luke intently. C.J. could only imagine what they were saying as her two left feet teetered on heels too high and the weight of her hair was dragging loose the pins that held it up. Either she or her hair was about to take a tumble. Luke had released her hand and had both of his on her back now, further threatening C.J.’s balance. While her mind tried to close off all the warring sensations, her body ached for him with a need that made her weak. “Stop it, Luke,” she snapped. “What?” He looked down at her, thick lashes blinking. “I can barely dance as it is without you grinding against me on the dance floor.” A smile tipped his lips. “Let’s go home, C.J.” “It’s not my home. My home is still in question.” His eyes darkened. “I aim to take care of that real soon.” “Not soon enough.” She wriggled out of his arms and teetered away, catching up tendrils of hair that had begun to pull loose and trail down her neck. As she headed for the ladies room it seemed out of nowhere that Serena appeared, standing with her friends, their plastered smiles identical. “C.J.” Serena nodded. “Allow me to introduce you to my friends.” “Why?” C.J. blurted before she could stop herself. The tall willowy one blinked down at C.J. and then gave a little laugh, making C.J. feel like a precocious child. The redhead beside her gave a knowing smile. C.J. was too mortified to say anything more and attempted to move past the small group, but Serena placed a restraining hand on C.J.’s wrist. Her gaze dripped with sympathy. “I tried to warn you.” She motioned past C.J. to the dance floor letting her know that she’d witnessed the tension between her and Luke. She dropped her gaze to C.J.’s bulging cleavage. “Nice dress. But the saloon girl- look will hold his attention for only so long.” She shook her head. “Luke shouldn’t have led you on the way he has. And to the point of getting engaged. It’s absurd.”


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“Excuuuse me?” C.J. balled her hands into fists. “Why is it so shocking that we’re engaged?” Serena’s eyes darted about and when C.J. glanced out the corner of her eye, several people had turned to look at them. Serena leaned forward. “Well. No need to make more of this than there is--” “You’re the one who started it.” C.J. whispered. Voices behind them grew quiet. Redhead took a few steps back and then crept away. C.J. turned to willow woman. “You wanna slither off, too? Now’s your chance,” C.J. said before mentally clapping her hand over her own mouth, willing herself to shut up so she could just ease away. “Really, C.J,” Serena said, her voice hushed. “Aren’t you overreacting a bit?” That did it. C.J. had been about to slip away but this was too much. She braced a hand on her hip. “You know, Serena, where I come from, when two gals are fighting over a man they just show their claws and get right to it. You’re lucky I don’t have you by your perfect hair, facedown into the carpet.” Serena gasped on a shocked breath but C.J. was too far gone now to stop herself. Dead silence blanketed the room. When C.J. turned, a sea of expressions greeted her, some shocked, some amused, all entertained. C.J. wanted to crawl into a hole. “Well.” Serena drew up beside her and straightened her perfect posture. “I will not allow myself to be drawn into this.” She lifted her haughty chin and turned on her heels. Before C.J. could stop herself, she ground her high heel into Serena’s hem and watched with satisfaction as the pearl-beaded fabric ripped in a perfect line along the waist, leaving a sagging gape in back to reveal the expanse of silk slip beneath. Serena simply turned and stared coldly at C.J., waiting for her to lift her foot from the dress. C.J. hated to back down, but when she looked around the sea of faces watched her expectantly. She could feel her cheeks burning. Reluctantly, she released the dress and ran down the hall to the ladies room. ****


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Luke had to suppress a bark of laughter when he saw C.J. hook a heel into Serena’s dress and let it rip. Amused glances shot his way. He smiled in satisfaction. She was in love with him. No doubt about it. When he got back to the table, his father’s eyes were brimming with laughter and Ruth looked suitably shocked and amused. Mr. Talbot, the coordinator of the National Literacy Initiative, gave Luke a wink. “Ah, to be young again.” Soft laughter filled the table. But after a long time passed and C.J. hadn’t emerged from her hiding place in the ladies room, his aunt whispered to him. “Shall I go rescue her?” Luke nodded. Minutes later, Ruth came back with the news that C.J. wasn’t in the ladies room-or anywhere.


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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

As soon as Luke’s limousine pulled up to the curb, Robert stepped up to open his door. Luke grabbed C.J.’s purse from the seat beside him and bounded out. “You pay for her cab?” he asked Robert. “Yes, sir. And I let her into your apartment, too.” Robert offered no apology but stood tall as though ready to take whatever reprimand was coming. Luke clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks.” Minutes later, Luke emerged from the elevator onto his floor and quietly let himself into the apartment. One high-heeled shoe was upended in the foyer and the other was dropped in the hall. A trail of hairpins was strewn along the carpet leading to her bedroom. Luke pushed open her door to see her standing before the dresser mirror, hiccupping and wiping smeared mascara from under her eyes. Her hair was a wild, dark cloud about her shoulders. She spotted his reflection in the mirror and turned to him, shaking. “What ... what are you doing here?” He didn’t answer. He took two tentative steps into the room and closed the door behind him. “You...”--she shrugged and waved a hand--“have awards or something to give, don’t you?” He shifted his weight, stepping closer. The lights from neighboring high-rises cast golden shadows across the slender bridge of her nose. “It’s not important,” he said. She twisted the crumpled tissue in her hands. “I want to go home.” His eyes


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moved over her face as her tear-strained eyes searched his. “I can’t stay here.” She lifted her chin. “Not another week, not even another day.” “You don’t have to.” At that, her lower lip quivered and fresh tears filled her eyes. “I just ...”--she swallowed--“don’t fit in.” His heart ached for her and for the years of displacement and betrayal she’d already suffered. But while he longed to reassure her, to protect her, all he could do was agree with her. “Neither do I.” She looked at him a long moment, her amber eyes clouded with confusion. “Come here, C.J.” She hesitated, barely a second, and then ran to him. He groaned when she buried her face in his chest and clung to his shirt. “Aw, C.J.” Her small body collapsed against his. When her legs gave way, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the overstuffed chair in the corner and settled her onto his lap. He felt so helpless against the sobs that racked her body. All he could think was to murmur every word of endearment he’d ever heard, skimming the nonsensical words along her forehead. “You’re safe with me,” he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.” His words seemed to provoke rather than soothe her, throwing her into another bout of deep choking sobs. “It’s okay, C.J.,” he whispered. “I promise. Don’t cry, please.” After what seemed like forever, her sobbing quieted to little hiccups, and then finally her trembling began to subside. He heaved a sigh of relief as he felt her body start to relax into his. When she gave a deep sigh and rubbed her nose idly along the rough stubble of his neck, he began to unwind himself, easing back into the cushion, reassured to feel her finally quiet in his arms. “You can trust me, C.J.” She responded by burrowing deeper into his neck.


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Soon the room grew so quiet he felt as though time had stopped. The only sound was the distant hum of traffic from the street far below and the ticking of the nightstand clock. He wondered if she’d fallen asleep. “C.J.?” he barely whispered. She sat up slowly and laid her palm along his cheek. Her lashes still wet and with her gaze now steady, she studied him as he considered the little freckles that had reappeared across her nose. She looked beautiful and completely vulnerable, but at the same time he could see that indomitable spirit that he had come to admire resurface. “You believe me, don’t you?” As if in answer, she pressed her lips against his, hesitantly. She gave a quiet sigh and nodded. “Yes, I do.” She stroked his cheek. Relief washed over him. Her admission meant more to him than if she’d said she loved him, because now with a little time and restraint on his part, it could happen. He lost himself in the idea of her falling in love with him while she brushed her lips gently with his. He tamped down the building lust, so afraid to break the tenuous thread of trust blossoming between them. He would not let this driving sexual need for her overpower her need for comfort even though he wanted to plunder her mouth, strip off that dress, and taste her in every way possible. Then he wanted to take her hard and fast. Her tentative touches were killing him. “Thank you, Luke.” She breathed against his lips. Then he was gliding his lips down her throat, and she was whimpering in his arms. She tasted of warm female flesh and sweet cream and sex all rolled into one. But he would not let get lost in the sensations, even as his mind raced to remember what his aunt had said she had on beneath her dress. He wondered if her backside was bared by some lacey thong-type thing. Reminding himself that he was a man too long deprived and who had promised not to seduce her, he reined himself in, clasping her waist and setting her from him. “Luke?” Her eyes were questioning. “Don’t you want me?” He choked out the response he knew he should give even if it killed him. “You’re


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vulnerable now, C.J. I won’t take advantage of that.” Her mouth dropped. “Are you telling me I don’t know what I want, when I want it?” She reached behind her and unzipped her dress. Whatever he planned on saying flew from his brain as his eyes locked on her nipples, half peeking above a tight black corset thing that thrust her breasts high. He dragged his eyes up to her face. Her smile was shy but determined. “Make love to me, Luke.” “Are you sure?” he croaked. Her eyes flared. “Are you stupid? Do I have to strip off this dress completely to convince you?” His mind filled with the image. “Yeah ... that might work.” He grinned. He strangled a groan when she slipped slowly off his lap and with a seductive smile tugged at the back zipper of her dress. With the effort her nipples had risen completely above the lacey edge. They were as hard a cherry pits. God, he wanted her. Every inch of her. Tonight he would make her his. And because this time the desire was inseparably wound up in his love for her, he intended to claim her, have her screaming for him, brand her in a way she’d never forget. “Luke.” She let out a frustrated breath. “Can you help me with this?” She turned, indicating the stuck zipper. He wanted to rip it off her, but despite her seductive invitation, somewhere in the recesses of his fogged brain he remembered his own advice on restraint. He grabbed her waist and pulled her down onto his lap again. “I’ll get it.” He touched his lips to hers in a kiss so chaste he hardly recognized himself. ”I want this to be perfect, tonight,” he breathed against her lips. “I’ve waited a long time for you to come to me. And I intend to make it last.” He ran his lips along her neck. “Let me enjoy peeling off your dress real slow.” He licked along her nipples, pulling one and then the other into his mouth as she writhed on his lap. She fisted her hand into his hair, pressing his mouth against her. “I don’t know if I


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can take slow,” she gasped. She was tearing at the buttons of his shirt until she finally pushed it open and off his shoulders. He groaned when she flattened her palms along his chest, tracing the lines of muscle that ran across his shoulders and then clear down to the ripples covering his stomach. She dipped down and ran her tongue along his flattened nipples and he groaned. “I miss your taste,” she said, and than ran her nose along his neck, “and your smell.” She was killing him. As much as he loved her touching him, he was too desperate tonight. He arched her over his arm and scraped one nipple between his teeth and then did the same with the other. Her answering moan urged him on. With his other hand, he trailed his fingers along the beaded fabric covering her thigh until he found the side slit of her skirt and slipped his hand up. He groaned when his palm met with silky stockings that ended half way up her thigh. He fingered the lacey edge, sliding his fingers beneath the silk to the warm flesh beneath and then around front to the smooth expanse of inner thigh. She opened for him on a little moan. He teased the soft skin of her thigh with the rough pad of his fingertips, lightly playing along her heated skin as he suckled her nipples, listening to her little sighs turn to throaty moans. But he intended to prolong the torture. He had waited too long to touch her again. Letting his fingers travel up between her thighs, he barely brushed over the lace between her legs, feather-touching her, making her squirm and arch into his hand. As he took little nips at her nipple, he rested his fingers against the plump swell of her lips and felt her tiny bud throb each time. “Luke.” She pounded on his back. He knew what she wanted but instead he clasped her hip and rolled her forward on his lap so he could stroke the back of her thigh and then higher. Just as he’d suspected. Her backside was bare. Blood pounded in his groin. He had to see what she wore. He lifted her off his lap. “Let me look at you.” Before she could respond, he stripped off her dress, letting it pool at her ankles.


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His jaw dropped. She stood before him, dazed and corseted. “Luke.” She grabbed for his hand, but he clutched her hips and turned her around. The black lace framed her pale bottom perfectly. He palmed her flesh and groaned at the thought that she’d danced with him while the bare smooth curve of her bottom was separated from him by just a scrap of fabric. She tried to turn back around but he held her hips and took a bite out of her. “Luke!” She jumped. “Bend over, C.J.” “What?” She gasped and whirled on him, backing away, her eyes wary and at the same time liquid with arousal. He scrubbed a hand over his face. Where had his restraint gone? When he looked up, her eyes had dropped to his erection, bursting in his trousers. He snagged his zipper. “Get on your knees, C.J,” he said before he could stop himself. She looked a little stunned, staring at him like he’d lost his mind. He had. But he wanted to take her in every way possible, taste her, and for her to do the same. He took a deep breath, trying to dredge up his idea of not breaking the tenuous thread of something he thought about earlier, willing reason to intervene. He had to get a grip. He patted his lap. “Come sit again. I promise I’ll behave,” he rasped. “No.” He dragged his lust-glazed eyes to hers, hoping the pathetic plea in them didn’t look pathetic. “I don’t want you to behave.” She gave him a hesitant smile and then, turning slowly, she walked to the bed. The next few moments were like free-falling into a dream as he sat there halfparalyzed with lust, watching her climb onto the bed, her bottom so smooth and white against the dark lace. In one long leap, he covered her from head to toe with his body. She let out a startled gasp.


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Then he stretched her arms above her head and buried his lips in her neck. “I want to devour you.” She moaned and tilted her backside against his groin. It was all the invitation he needed. He dragged his lips down her body, nibbling and licking as he went, tasting every inch of her and breathing in her delicious scent. She responded with little cries and whimpers. He bit the warm tender flesh of her buttocks and then grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her back. When he spread her legs and nestled his face between her thighs she went rigid. He inched back up her body, coaching himself to take things slower. To his surprise, she shook her head and pushed on his shoulders, urging him back again. “Damn.” He groaned. And then he spread her wide and licked teasingly along the lace between her thighs. She let out a startled cry and then another as he slid one finger beneath the elastic and coated her little bud with her own arousal. She was so hot and plump. He wanted to taste her. He found the tiny hooks and slid aside the lace. At the first touch of his tongue, she shuddered. “Luke...” She drew up her knees. She tasted like warm honey and he wanted every last drop of her. But with the next delicate lick she exploded, crying out his name and coming with deep racking shudders. Whether it was the sound of his name on her lips or the way she came apart for him he didn’t know. But he knew he had to be inside her now, deep. He covered her and thrust, completely burying himself. This was where he was meant to be. This was more home to him than anywhere, even his ranch. And he never wanted to leave. She looked up at him through fresh tears. If ever he wanted to tell her that he loved her it was now. But he would not


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indulge himself at the risk of scaring her off. “Luke?” Her eyes searched his as she skimmed her palms over his backside. He closed his eyes on a groan and started moving, stealing himself against the hot tight feel of her gloving him, wanting it to last forever. She arched into him, digging into his shoulders and screaming through a strangled cry. When she convulsed around him, he muttered a curse and let go of his iron control, pumping into her in tortured blissful throbs. On one long shuddering sigh he collapsed on top of her. He rolled to his side, taking her with him, not willing to break the contact just yet, maybe never. “Luke?” She sighed against his chest. “Mmm ...” “My name is Candy June.” Luke smiled. It was the last thing he remembered before they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.


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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Luke dragged his eyes from the pile of documents and correspondence strewn across his desk, not wanting to believe what he’d just discovered. But he had been checking and double-checking for hours now and the result was still the same. “How could this have happened?” His father shifted in his seat. “We ...” Ruth glanced at his father and then turned pleading eyes to Luke. “It all seemed so harmless. And it kept Ted out of your father’s hair. And since no transactions could take place without Board approval, we just didn’t give what he was doing much thought.” “What a mess,” his father muttered. “Where is my idiot cousin? Has anyone been able to locate him yet?” “I doubt we’ll find him any time soon, son. He may be a liar and a cheat, but he inherited some of the same genes as you, so he’s not stupid. When you left that message about needing to follow up on C.J.’s land purchase, I’m sure he kicked up dust hightailing it out of here.” “I should press criminal charges. Board member or not, he effectually stole from the company by using those funds to buy C.J.’s land.” “I doubt it’ll stick, son.” “Damn it!” Luke pounded his fist on the table. “What am I going to tell C.J.?” “I don’t understand,” Ruth said. “Can’t you just give C.J. her land now? Why must you sell it to Bryce Industries?” His father turned a patient gaze to her. “Because we’ll be ruined if we don’t. Ted gained that information about Bryce intending to buy that entire area, including C.J.'s


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ranch, while he gambled with the financial officer’s son. He then immediately bought up all the parcels, intending to turn around and demand top dollar from Bryce Industries for them. Without that insider information, he never would have known to do it. It’s a form of insider trading. At best it’s completely unethical.” “And the reputation my father has spent his lifetime building will be ruined,” Luke added. “But it’s not fair, Bill. All those years ...” His father placed his hand over Ruth’s. “Fair has nothing to do with it. It won’t matter what I’ve been doing the last fifty years. It’s now that matters. Bryce Industries had been around as long as I have. This could destroy Dutton Enterprises.” “He’s right, Ruth. I’ve got to continue with the plan to sell to Bryce Industries, but sell at a fair market price and hope that they never find out. My only consolation is that I found this out at the start of negotiations.” His father shook his head. “After this I’m retiring.” “Dad--” His father loosened his tie. “I’m getting too old for this. I haven’t been minding the store like I should.” He propped his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. “If you can get me out of this, son, I intend to hang it up. It’s time I do some of that traveling you’ve been bugging me about.” He lifted a brow. “Maybe I can even enjoy some grandkids before long.” Luke gave him a measuring look. “How can I tell C.J. that the vote to purchase her land is off? And then in the next breath tell her I own the land and am about to sell it to Bryce Industries so they can turn the whole damned area into a family resort?” Luke rose slowly and turned to stare out the windows, the heavy weight that had lifted just days ago returning with crushing proportions. The idyllic weekend spent making love to C.J. might as well have never happened. The only thing worse would have been if he’d told her that he loved her. It would have only added to the mockery of what he was about to do. “She’ll think I’ve been lying to her all along,” Luke murmured more to himself


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than to his father and Ruth. They were besides him in seconds. “She won’t believe that for an instant,” Ruth said. “She knows you love her, son.” “Does she?” Luke sighed heavily. “C.J. doesn’t have much trust in people. She has no reason to.” “She loves you, Luke.” Ruth’s voice broke. “And she’s perceptive in ways other people aren’t. It may take her a little time, but she’ll believe you. And you’ll make this right. I know you will.” Luke appreciated their support, but they had a lot more confidence in him and C.J. than he did. “Jesus.” Luke glanced at the clock and dragged both hands down his face. “She’ll be here any minute, expecting to see a copy of our official letter withdrawing the company’s offer to purchase her land.” **** C.J. smiled at Robert as she waited for Luke’s limousine to pull up and take her to his office. “Am I just imagining it or is your smile extra wide this beautiful morning?” Robert asked. “It is.” C.J. laughed. Robert gave her a wink. “I take it you and Mister Luke are finally getting along?” C.J. beamed at him and nodded. She would have liked to tell him--tell the entire world--that she was in love with Luke and that nothing mattered more than being with him. And that she believed that he loved her, too, but first she needed to tell Luke. She hadn’t wanted to emerge from their self-imposed exile all weekend. He had teased her relentlessly about her name while he made torturous love to her and then fed her in between. And they had spent so much time in his hot tub she feared she was growing gills. She hadn’t wanted any of it to end. He assured her that he didn’t either, but he


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insisted he needed to take care to secure her land for her. First thing this morning, he was withdrawing Dutton Enterprises offer to purchase her ranch, and he wanted to present her with a copy of the withdrawal to make it official. If she hadn’t fallen in love with him before this morning, she should have. As Robert waved the limo off, C.J. could barely contain her excitement. She no longer worried about what would happen between her and Luke once her land was returned. Her stepfather, eager for a sale, would beg her to buy the ranch once his deal with Dutton Enterprises fell through. That alone was wonderful. But it paled now in comparison to planning a future with Luke. And that’s exactly what she believed would happen next. That like her, he, too, believed they were meant to be together. As she emerged from the limo in front of his office tower, Carl greeted her with a big smile. “Good morning, Miss. Mr. Dutton is expecting you.” “Oh.” The knowledge startled her for just a minute until she remembered how closely the entire staff watched Luke’s comings and goings. Carl took her elbow and guided her to the shiny brass turnstile. “Thank you, Carl.” “My pleasure, sweetheart. Have a wonderful day.” When C.J. passed the reception desk, Jennifer waved to her. “Good morning, C.J. Shall I tell Luke you’re on your way up?” “No need, Jenn.” C.J. smiled. “But thanks.” C.J. hurried to the elevators. The last time she took it “up” was the fateful day she had kidnapped Luke. Was it only one short month ago? How could her world have turned upside down and then arighted itself again so perfectly in just the blink of an eye? The elevator doors slid open again and C.J. padded across the expanse of thick champagne carpet that blanketed the large reception area. Today she wouldn’t need to sneak past the receptionist’s desk like she had last time and then search for the President’s office suite. This time she belonged here. She approached the sweeping kidney-shaped desk with a smile. “I’m here to see-”


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“Ms. Wilson, hello. I’m Mrs. Hilbert. I can’t believe we haven’t met after all this time.” The distinguished-looking woman extended her hand. “I was told to escort you in the moment you arrived.” She rose from her chair. “Thank you.” C.J. smiled and held up a hand. “But I know my way.” “May I get you coffee, perhaps some--” “No, thank you, Mrs. Hilbert. I appreciate it though.” C.J. waved her off. “It was nice meeting you.” “Same here, dear.” Mrs. Hilbert gave her a warm smile. As C.J. headed toward the double paneled doors to Luke’s office, she had the inexplicable feeling of being at home here in the tall impressive tower that had near terrified her just four weeks ago. She knocked tentatively. “Luke?” She pushed open the door. He was standing before the wide expanse of glass that overlooked Dallas, his father and Ruth at his side. “Hey.” She smiled as she made her way into the room. It occurred to her that she should apologize to his father and Ruth for running out on them Friday night, but then she saw the stricken look on all three faces. She stopped midway into the room. “What’s wrong?” she whispered before she gave herself half a minute to think. Ruth and Bill exchanged a quick look. “We’ll leave you two alone,” Ruth said. As they moved past C.J., Ruth gave her shoulder a squeeze, head bent, as though unable to look at C.J. After a moment C.J. heard the door close softly behind her. “What is it, Luke?” “C.J.” He came from around the desk and pulled out a chair for her. “Sit down, plea--” She shook her head, her eyes darting from his troubled face to the stack of files littering his desk. A horrible sense of foreboding filled her. “Is it about the letter you’re sending to my stepfather?” She didn’t know why she bothered asking, because she knew as sure as she knew that fish liked worms, there was going to be no letter. “What’s happened?” Luke gave a heavy sigh. His handsome face, usually so relaxed, was drawn tight


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with tension. He ran a quick hand through his disheveled hair. “C.J., they’ll be no board vote.” “What?” she breathed. “It appears my cousin, the one who received all your letters and telegrams and who has been dealing with your stepfather all along, isn’t quite as inept as we thought.” “Oh?” C.J. hadn’t realized that Luke had never seen any of her threats. Why hadn’t he said so? And why did that matter now? “It turns out he used corporate funds illegally and already purchased your ranch from your stepfather.” “Illegally?” C.J. eased into the padded leather chair adjacent his desk, her mind racing. “So ... then because he used the fund illegally your father’s company doesn’t really own the ranch?” “No, that’s not true. We do own it, regardless of his misuse of funds.” C.J. took a steadying breath. “Oh, well then, that’s good. Isn’t it?” She folded her hands on her lap, willing herself not to jump to conclusions, despite that Luke’s face was dark with concern. “Now you can just sell it to me.” Luke dropped down on one knee in front of her. “I can’t do that.” “Of course you can.” He grabbed her hands. “Listen to me, C.J. It’s not that simple.” “Why not?” She stifled her rising panic. “Bryce Industries has been researching that area and was finalizing plans to develop it into a resort. My cousin found out and scooped up all the parcels so he could turn around and make a killing off of Bryce, one of my father’s fiercest competitors.” “So?” “So, it’s unethical, C.J. It’s a form of insider trading. If I refuse to sell to Bryce and they find out what my cousin did it will ruin my father.” Blood pounded in her ears. This couldn’t be happening. “You’re selling my ranch to a resort?” “C.J.--”


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She jumped up. “You own my ranch now and you’re selling it out from under me?” she screeched. He reached for her arm. “Come sit down and I’ll explain--” She drew out of his reach. “Sell Bryce all the other parcels, but give me mine.” “C.J.” He shook his head. “It’s more complicated than that. Yours is stuck in the middle. It would deliberately sabotage their plans. If they weren’t suspicious before now, that would do it.” C.J. felt a vise tighten around her heart. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you? But then you had no intention of ever giving me my ranch.” Luke’s nostrils flared. “That’s not true and you know it.” “How would I know it?” C.J. felt her world slipping away. Loving Luke, believing that he loved her, was more wonderful than she could ever have imagined. And now it was beyond imagining, because it was too good to be true. While she thought she had known him, she hadn’t known him at all. She wanted to be sick. “Where do you live when you’re not here?” “What?” “It’s a simple question.” “I see.” He shook his head. “So this is a test? This past weekend, the weeks together before that, meant nothing.” “They meant everything,” she breathed. “But now I want some answers.” “What difference does it make? What I do is not who I am. You know me, C.J. And don’t deny it. And you love me.” She stared at him, disbelievingly. He was keeping something from her and she didn’t know why.” He was reading her expression. “Maybe I have a test of my own.” She lifted her chin. “So, that makes us even. I can’t trust you until you come clean with me, and you won’t be able to trust me if you do, is that it?” “Damn it, C.J., you’re twisting everything around.” A realization surfaced. Her eyes widened.


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“You’ll make millions, trillions, by selling to Bryce, won’t you--” “I won’t. Damn it. Listen to me.” “Listen to you?” She grabbed a paperweight from his desk. “Listen to you!” she screamed. She threw the heavy brass chunk at him. When he ducked, it smashed against the picture window, shattering it with spider cracks and spraying shards of glass across the carpet. “I’ll never listen to you again,” she cried. “Don’t do this--” She grabbed the small lamp. “You’ve been lying to me about everything.” “I haven’t!” Luke held up his arms just as she flung the lamp. It deflected off him and crashed to the floor. “Not about everything.” “You low-down, slithering, piece of vermin. I hate you!” She whirled on him and raced to the door, but before she could get to it, he grabbed her up and wrenched her around to face him. “You don’t hate me. You love me. And I love you.” She landed a right cut to his jaw that sent his head snapping back. “Damn it!” He snatched up her wrists and yanked them above her head, plastering her against the door. “I didn’t lie to you, and in your heart you know that.” She shoved her knee into his groin and watched his eyes pop wide. He stumbled back, the color draining fast from his face. She whipped around and flung open the door. His breath came out in a choked whisper. “C.J.--” She ran down the hall, past Mrs. Hilbert’s probing stare. Luke’s voice thundered down the hall. “Candy June! Goddammit! Get back here.” **** It didn’t take long for word to spread. Mrs. Hilbert had phoned Jennifer when the commotion began. Carl and Pete were already posting bets on which way C.J. would run while the two security officers scanned the monitors. The latest chapter in the running saga had their Corporate Cowboy tripping down


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the hallway ordering his feisty filly to come back to him and she had ignored him. While the entire ground floor staff waited for Luke to come crashing through the lobby, they collected on their running bet as to C. J.’s name. Carl had been closest with Candy Jane. Before long Henry, the head security office, signaled everyone to take their places. Luke came bounding out of the elevator. “Did she pass here?” He called out to Jennifer as he raced past her desk. “No, sir.” “No?” Luke paused a minute and then pushed through the turnstile. Out on the sidewalk, Carl stood at attention facing him. “Where is she?” Luke snapped. Carl’s lips tipped at one corner. Pete grinned from ear to ear. “Get my car, Pete,” Luke barked. “Don’t think you’ll be needing it.” Carl stifled a laugh and looked skyward. Luke followed the direction of his gaze. Whizzing blades peeked out over the rooftop. And then his beloved helicopter executed a perfect lift-off and whirled away. “Son of a bitch,” he roared. “Son ... of ... a bitch!” **** The sign above the gate to the small airfield read Gerard & Son. After the driver parked the four-wheel-drive, black Silverado, he headed for the rusty hanger. Inside he found the tiny brunette he’d been told to locate, welding metal along the body of a small Piper Cub. When he approached her, she turned off the torch and lifted the plastic shield from her eyes. Gold-flecked amber eyes looked him over before she spoke. “You lookin’ for Mitch?” “No, ma’am. C.J. Wilson.” The cat-like eyes grew instantly wary. “You found her.” “Good.” He gave a curt nod. “I’ve got some papers for you.” She wiped her hands on the oil-stained jumpsuit and took the papers he handed


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her. Moments later a small frown creased her delicate brow. Her head snapped up. “This is the title to my ranch.” “Yes, ma’am. I’m Jeff Russell. I was told to deliver it to you.” “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice coming out in a soft breath. “Seems that Harvey Stills--” “My stepfather?” “Yeah ... him, he never did own the land. It’s been yours all along. All the title searches came up the same. Since there was no will, or at least none found, the land entered a trust held by the state until you were twenty-one.” “My stepfather would have known that.” “Yes, he did, and never told you.” “Of all the cheatin’, grizzly haired, no good ...” She mumbled a string of expletives that made Jeff smile. Her head snapped up. “Where is he now?” “He’s vacated the property.” C.J.’s breath caught. “You mean ... you mean it’s all mine? I can go there right now, move in ...” The young man smiled wide, the jade-green eyes beneath his black Stetson, vaguely familiar. “You can move in any time you’re ready.” C.J. held her breath, unable to believe what she’d heard. This last month had been hell. She had found her stepfather, still at the ranch, in charge of caretaking it, he told her, until Luke’s stupid cousin said otherwise. He bragged about all the money he’d gotten from Dutton Enterprises. And now it seems that all the while he knew that he had never owned the land in the first place. C.J. wanted to maim and decimate something, badly. Until she studied once again the document in her hand. Plain as day, it was the deed to the Sugarfoot Ranch, her family home. She looked up to thank Russell, but he was already out the door.


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**** Bill Dutton crossed the rooftop to where his son stood, polishing the ebony stripe along the tail of his four-seater Bell helicopter. The craft dominated the rooftop, much like his son did in whatever room he entered. It waited, constrained within the space that hemmed it in, for its owner to launch its power and let it soar into the sky, beautiful in its grace, strong and reliable. Bill Dutton smiled to think how effortlessly C.J. had lifted the awesome craft two weeks ago. When C.J. left word where it was, and Luke had gone to rescue it, he had returned with it unscratched. Bill had a feeling it wouldn’t have mattered anyhow. Luke looked up at Bill’s approach. “You going after her, son?” Luke shook his head. “Nope.” He buffed the chrome along the tail’s tip. “I’m giving her two more weeks and she’ll be back.” “Two more weeks to do what?” Bill picked up a soft cloth and buffed alongside his son. “To realize I’d never hurt her and that I told her the truth--that I’m in love with her. And that she’s in love with me.” “Tall order. You’ve known each other less than two months and in circumstances ... not even close to usual.” “It doesn’t matter. She’ll come around.” Luke dropped his cloth into the bucket at his feet and leaned against the helicopter. He crossed his arms over his chest. “She just needs time to think it through.” “Why not go after her?” “That won’t work with C.J. She has to see things for herself. She’s stubborn but she’s also smart. And she’s got an ocean of love to give once she can trust enough to do it. When she does, I’ll be ready.” Bill smiled. “You seem pretty confident, son,” “I am.” Luke smiled back. “You ever have this much trouble with Mom?”


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Bill laughed. “Let me tell you about the day I met your mother. If I hadn’t been fast on my feet, I would have gotten my behind riddled with buckshot.” While Luke and his father polished the rest of his helicopter, Bill told him stories about his mother Luke would never have believed had they come from anywhere else but his father. Luke knew that sharing the stories was his father’s way of saying that he approved of C.J. Later that night, as Luke lay on his bed, hands behind his head looking through the skylight at the dark city sky, he hoped he was right about C.J. It was torture to think about two more weeks without her. A lifetime without her was impossible. He picked up the pillow next to him. He had refused to wash its case. The sweet distinctive smell of her skin lingered on the fine cotton threads. He breathed deep her scent and let his blood pump hot in response, despite the frustration that would follow, and tried to picture what she would do this time. Once C.J. set her mind on something, he knew there was no stopping her, but she’d already kidnapped him. Besides, this time he thought she might actually have a plan. For his part, he probably shouldn’t make it too easy for her, because he knew she loved a challenge and suspected he needed to be worth fighting for. One thing he did know. Once he got hold of her, he was never letting her go. **** When C.J. pulled up to her property, the ranch looked the same. Acres of overgrown prairie grass surrounded the peeling clapboard house. The corrals held no cattle and the stables were empty. But that would change soon enough. Stepping out of her truck, she surveyed the broken fence line and piles of discarded equipment and mentally calculated the cost of repairs. But since she’d saved practically every dime of her military pay for six years, preparing to use it as the down payment to buy back her ranch, she’d have a good start. Maybe she’d have some money left for a horse. As she stepped up onto the porch, her boot heel caught in the rotted edge and


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splintered off. The door was half off its hinges. But these were small problems compared to the bigger one she feared looming. How long would it take to get the stench of her stepfather off her land? She blinked back tears as she cautiously pushed open the rickety door. How many years had she dreamed of this day? Four years in McGowan’s Juvenile Hall and six years in the Air Force. A decade of dreaming how it would be. She’d come full circle. No one could take her home away, again. She choked back the sobs clogging her lungs and collapsed onto the bench seat her father had made so many years ago. But the wave of comfort she expected now that her stepfather was run off her land didn’t come. The tears of happiness she’d always envisioned were drowned out now by tears of grief. A sadness settled so deep inside, it threatened to suffocate her. This wasn’t her home. Her home had never been lumber and nails. Not even the endless prairie. It was her parents’ love. How had she failed to realize that before? Without them, this was just ... real estate. A potential ranch, a family resort, some future family’s home. But it wasn’t hers. Not anymore. Only one time since she was twelve had she caught a glimpse of home. Had felt it in her heart. She paused on the thought. Her heart. It was about time she put her trust in something again. And her heart was as good a place as any to start.


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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

C.J. Wilson pushed through the brass turnstile of the headquarters of Dutton Industries International and stepped into the gleaming lobby with a mission: to capture the heart of its President and Chief Executive Officer. He left her no recourse. She was in love with him, and she hadn’t come this far to back down now. She glanced in all directions. The same guards from before stood at their posts. When she smiled over at them, they waved. “C.J., you’re back.” Jennifer rose from behind her desk. “Oh, my God. Should I call ahead--” “No.” C.J. held up a hand. “Definitely not.” She took a long breath. “How do I look?” She tucked a few loose strands back up into her French twist. Jennifer frowned. “Different.” C.J. smoothed down the front of her tailored suit. “Yes, well ...” C.J. lowered her voice. “Carl and Pete told me that Serena’s been here almost every day.” “So?” Jennifer nudged her forward. “Go, good luck.” “Thanks.” C.J. smiled and headed for the elevators, her steps slow and measured. The low-heeled pumps she’d bought for today were stable but still heels nonetheless. As the elevator moved up through the floors she mentally rehearsed for the hundredth time what she’d say and how she’d say it--in a calm, dignified, and wellthought out manner. When she stepped out onto the top floor, Mrs. Hilbert greeted her with a smile. “Jennifer said you were on your way--” “You didn’t tell--” “No, of course not. But he’s in there. Alone. Good luck, dear.”


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C.J. padded quietly down the corridor, knees a little shaky. She paused at his door and took a deep cleansing breath before pushing it open. Luke was sitting at his desk, facing the windows, feet propped on the marble sill. His hair had grown over his collar and from his reflection in the newly repaired window, C.J. could see that he was sporting a day’s growth of beard. He looked rough and somber ... and gorgeous. When she got close enough for him to catch her reflection in the window, he dropped his legs and whirled around. He was on his feet in an instant, towering over her. How could she have forgotten how big he was? She held up her hands. “Stay back.” He lifted a brow and backed up. “Whatever you say darlin’.” He glanced behind her, his eyes twinkling, as though checking to see if she carried a gun. But she wasn’t here to play games. She was here to fight for her future. He leaned against his desk and folded his arms over his massive chest, sprawling his long legs out before him. He dropped his eyes down her fancy suit, his expression unreadable. She licked her dry lips and then began. “I got your flowers,” she said. “Flowers?” He frowned. “Yes.” She drew in a breath. Could he have forgotten? She could have kicked herself for not responding a month ago when he sent them and now felt herself panic at the thought that everything might have changed. That it might be too late for her was more than she could bear. Her pulse pounded in her temple, but she fought to remain calm. “The roses,” she reminded him. “The dozen long stemmed red ones.” “Oh.” His lips quirked. “Those.” “And the note,” she quickly added. “Note?” He rubbed his jaw. She bit back a curse. “Luke Dutton, you know exactly what note I’m talking about.” She braced her hands on her hips. “Or do you send so many notes to women


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saying that you love them that you can’t remember who you sent what?” He leaned down close, brows drawn. “You callin’ me stupid?” “Luke!” She let out an exasperated breath. “Why are you doing this?” “Doing what?” “Making this so difficult for me.” “Difficult for you? Seems like last time I tried to talk I got my window smashed, a lamp thrown at me, and my balls crushed.” Her eyes dropped to his groin. “I’m sorry about that.” His lips tipped up at the corners. “I’ll bet you are.” “What I’m trying to say ... Luke ... is ...” She studied his ruggedly handsome face and his summer blue eyes and still the words wouldn’t come. What was wrong with her? “Go on.” He lifted an amused brow. “What’s so funny?” He threw up his hands. “What?” He laughed. “Fine. What I wanted to tell you is that ... is that I only want to be with you, no matter where that is. I don’t belong on my ranch anymore. I belong with you. I’d even live in a high-rise in a big city if it meant being with you.” “High-rise, huh?” he said, but he looked doubtful. “Yes, I mean it. Every word. I just want to be with you.” “Why?” “Why?” she sputtered. He bent down close and went nose to nose with her. “Yeah, why?” His breath fanned her forehead. It had been so long since she tasted him, felt his lips against hers. She fisted his collar, dragging him down to her, and kissed him. He groaned deep in his throat and returned her kiss, snagging her waist and pressing himself against her. The feel of him growing hard so quickly fueled her own raging desire. Then he whipped her arms behind her back. She heard the click at the same time she felt the cool metal against her flesh. He had handcuffed her.


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She broke the kiss and stumbled back. “What are you doing?” His eyes glittered with mischief. “Kidnapping you.” “Are you crazy?” “Yup.” He walked casually to his desk and pressed the intercom. “Mrs. Hilbert, tell Steve I’m on my way.” “Yes, sir.” C.J. could hear the smile in the woman’s voice. “Who’s Steve? Where are you taking me? You can’t drag me out of here in handcuffs, Luke. You’ll humiliate me.” “I’m an idiot, remember? A crazy, stupid, idiot.” “No, you’re not. It was me. I made you--” He swooped down and threw her over his shoulder. “What the--” Before she could catch her breath, his hand was up her skirt, smoothing over her bottom. “No thong today? Damn!” He bounded across the room. “Luke, stop, please.” He flung open the door. “Put me down!” With her wrists bound all she could do was kick with a frenzy. He pulled off her shoes and dropped them in the hall before Mrs. Hilbert’s desk. When she continued to kick, he clamped his wrists around her ankles and then spoke to Mrs. Hilbert, his tone matter-of-fact, as if C.J.’s backside wasn’t staring the poor woman in the face. “Call ahead to the Circle C.” “Certainly, sir.” “Luke, put me down!” He smacked her bottom. “Stay still.” C.J. choked on a shocked breath and kicked like a wild banshee. No way would she let him drag her through the lobby like a trussed turkey. “You jack-ass of a no-good ...,” she screamed, followed by the entire repertoire of expletives she picked up in the Air Force. It did no good.


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A few minutes later they were in the elevator where he took great relish in spanking her a few more times, and then they stepped out onto the roof and were quickly circled by the same crew of helicopter attendants who’d greeted them two months ago. Her cheeks burned as Luke lowered her into the cabin, her legs still dangling outside the door. On impulse, she leveled a quick sound kick to his shin. He grabbed her ankles and whispered in her ear. “Do that again and I’ll spank you right in front of my entire crew.” “Fat chance of that,” she said before she had enough sense to clamp her mouth shut. He drew his lips along her cheek and then murmured against her lips. “I told you that first day that somebody’s got to rein you in. Teach you a lesson. And I gotta tell you, darlin’, I’m sure enjoying it.” She kept her mouth shut. “Do I detect a little remorse?” he taunted. She bit her own lip from trying so hard not to rise to his bait. He slid both his hands up her stockinged legs and nudged his fingers under her hem. “Luke!” “You gonna listen to me?” She stifled the X-rated protest burning her lungs. “Are you?” “Yes,” she hissed. “Good.” He swung her legs into the cabin and latched the door. She breathed a small, temporary, sigh of relief. After he snapped them both into their seats, she watched him punch in the same code she used a month ago, surprised he hadn’t changed it after she’d hijacked his helicopter. As though he knew what she was thinking, he trained his intense blue eyes on hers. She tipped her chin and snorted. His eyes crinkled in amusement.


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Before she had time to ponder it, he executed a perfect lift off. His crew smiled and waved as they took off. Why did she get the feeling this whole crazy stunt had been staged? She looked at him sharply. He returned a smile so warm her heart melted right before her own eyes, dripping heat throughout her entire body. He motioned out the window. “Look.” Below, Carl and Pete, Jennifer and Mrs. Hilbert, and Henry and Joe, all waved and smiled as they whirled away. The lump rising in C.J.’s throat made her want to cry. She turned to Luke, blinking back tears. “Did they know you planned to kidnap me?” Luke smiled. “I think they know more about me than I know about myself.” She studied his handsome face. “Luke?” He turned eyes burning with intensity on her. “I love you.” His expression softened. “I know.” Inexplicable tears spilled over. “I love you so much.” His smile widened. “It’s been hell without you. My heart ... misses you.” “You just sayin’ that so I’ll unlock the handcuffs?” “Luke!” He let out a bark of laughter and then put the controls on automatic. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the key. “Lean forward.” He unlocked the cuffs and tossed them onto the floor. She rubbed her wrists. “Where are you taking me?” “Home.” “Home?” “My home.” They had to refuel twice during the long trip, and though he refused to tell her just where home was, they did talk about her childhood and his Native American roots, his


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father’s plans to retire and her plans to sell her ranch to Bryce Industries. “Here we are.” “Your home?” He nodded and motioned ahead. She looked out through the windows and below her. All around acres of fenced in sagebrush and fireweed dotted the landscape. In the distance a white clapboard ranch house grew larger by the minute and a large sign hung over the entrance to the long winding dirt drive: The Circle C. Surrounding it were huge corrals of steer and expansive stables. Outbuildings dotted the landscape and a sparkling lake took up a large portion of the eastern border. Behind the house, a light brown patch of dirt anchored with ropes and cables served as a helicopter pad. He unhooked the radio microphone overhead and spoke through the static. People emptied out of the buildings below her. A heavy black truck pulling a trailer kicked up a cloud of dust as it drove from the stables to the pad. As soon as it pulled up close to the pad, a young man in a black Stetson jumped out. Minutes later, the craft landed smoothly on its pad. Since she had no shoes, Luke insisted on lifting her out. Her protests did no good. He simply swept her into his arms and carried her as they ducked under the still whirling blades. He ran with her to the black truck. The same young man who delivered her title to her ranch greeted her. “Afternoon, C.J.” He tipped his hat Luke smiled. “This is Ruth’s nephew. He works with me here on the ranch.” C.J. was overcome with emotion. The realization that Luke was responsible for getting her land back to her was more than she could take. “You,” she choked. “You were the one--” “Luke personally delivered the order for ol’ Harvey to vacate the property. He told him that if he didn’t leave immediately, he’d have his boot under his rear and kick him out.” C.J. bit back a laugh.


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Jeff chuckled. “The man left real quick.” Luke nuzzled her neck. “Come on. I want to show you something.” Luke nodded to Jeff and they all walked around to the trailer that was hitched to the back of the truck. “She’s right here, Boss.” Jeff opened the back and lowered the ramp. He then guided out the most beautiful little Arabian filly C.J. had ever seen, black as night with just a dash of white on its forehead. Luke lowered C.J. to the ground and took the reins from Jeff. “She’s beautiful,” C.J. breathed. Jeff closed up the trailer and hopped back in the truck. Around them, everything had gone quiet. C.J. glanced about to find that she and Luke were alone. The helicopter rested in silence, the small crew had disappeared, and the only sound was the receding crush of gravel under tires as Jeff headed back down the road to the stables. Even the breeze seemed to be holding its breath. She blinked up at Luke, trying to sort it all out, but still not understanding the half of it. “She’s yours,” Luke said, his voice low. “Mine?” He placed the reins in her hands. “I have a stable full of thoroughbreds but I got this one special. She’s young but already has garnered a reputation.” He cradled her chin. “She’s got remarkable endurance and spirit, just like her owner.” C.J. blinked back tears but still couldn’t speak. When the filly whinnied and jerked, C.J. laid a comforting hand along her neck and stroked, soothing her, crooning little words of encouragement that soon calmed her. Then C.J. turned her searching eyes to Luke. “She’s an engagement present.” He circled her waist and pulled her toward him. “Marry me, Candy June.” He motioned around him. “Out here, under the stars, where we both belong.” He returned his gaze to hers. “I love you.” C.J. burst into tears. “Luke Dutton”--she pressed her forehead against his chest-“you’re the only one who can get me crying like this.” She swiped her cheeks across his


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shirt and then looked at him, dead on. “But I love you.” “Is that a yes?” She reached up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, today and forever.”

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