The Cowboy's Gamble: Destined For Love Series

by Denison, Janelle

  She moved away from Seth, to the white banister enclosing the porch. Unable to meet his disconcerting stare, she looked out at the fertile land stretching for miles in front of her. Land that had been in her family for three generations. Land that once belonged to an O’Connor. “What does my father’s gambling have to do with anything?”

  She heard one of the pair of wicker chairs behind her creak as he settled his weight into it. “Your father gambled away the Golden M, and I won it.”

  Josie’s world tilted and she grabbed one of the columns for balance. She glanced over her shoulder at him, denial pumping up her adrenaline. He sat there in the white wicker chair, his long body stretched out, his legs crossed at his boots, looking entirely too arrogant.

  She pressed a hand to her churning stomach. God, this had to be an awful dream, a nightmare she’d wake up from and laugh about. But Seth was flesh and blood real, his persistence too intense to be anything but genuine.

  “Prove it,” she blurted, despising the desperation in her voice. But that’s exactly how she was feeling, grasping at straws in hopes of finding a discrepancy in his outrageous claim.

  Withdrawing a squared piece of paper from his shirt pocket, he unfolded it, then handed it toward her. “Here’s all the proof you’re gonna need.”

  She stared at the offered document for what seemed like an eternity, the words “Quitclaim Deed” swirling in front of her. With a trembling hand she reached for the paper and forced herself to read the contents. She got as far as the statement transferring ownership of property to Seth O’Connor before a wave of disbelief crashed through her.

  “How can this be?” she asked, more to herself than him.

  “It’s all very simple,” he said, his eyes dark and unfathomable. “Your father and I were at Joe’s pub this past Friday night and he challenged me to a game of poker in the back room-”

  “And you took advantage of him?” she demanded to know.

  Seth laughed, the sound deep and rich despite the tension between them. “I know you’d like to believe I did, but I wasn’t the only one in the game. There were five of us present, but I seemed to be the one with all the luck. Your father lost all the cash he had on him, and resorted to writing IOU’s. At one point, he owed me over ten grand, and Gary Drummond four grand.”

  Josie groaned, staggered at the debt her father had incurred. “What happened?” she asked, not sure she really wanted to know.

  “It came down to my hand against his, and since he had another three grand of IOU’s in the pot and was about to write another just to stay in the game, I struck a deal with him.”

  Her loathing gaze narrowed on him. “What kind of deal did my father make with the devil himself?”

  He lifted a dark brow at her derogatory comment. “I told him if he put in the deed to the Golden M and he won the pot I’d dissolve him of his IOU to me, and I’d pay off Gary’s. The same would apply if he lost. Either way, he’d have no outstanding debts.”

  “My, wasn’t that generous of you!” Her fingers curled tight around the deed in her hand. A deed that made the very porch she stood on, the house and ranch she grew up on, his. The thought made her nauseous.

  He sat up in the chair, his gaze holding hers steadily. “He didn’t have to put in the deed, Josie.”

  “Doesn’t sound like he had much of a choice.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes, hot and dangerous. “He made every choice on his own. I offered a deal, and he accepted it with a stipulation of his own that I agreed to. If he wasn’t prepared to lose, then he never should have challenged me to join the game in the first place.”

  He was right, she knew. Her father’s weakness was no one’s fault but his own. Still, she wasn’t going to lose everything that mattered to her without a battle. “I’m going to do everything in my power to get this ranch back.”

  Slowly, he stood, looking entirely too sexy for someone she despised. “You can certainly try, but that document is legal and binding. Considering the ranch wasn’t in your name, you won’t have much to stand on.”

  Her chest grew so tight it hurt to breath. Oh, Lord! She’d never thought to change the deed to include her name, never believed her father could be so desperate as to risk their home in a poker game. She was the last McAllister, and the ranch would have been hers one day, passed on from father to daughter.

  She found it ironic that Jake McAllister had lost the property to an O’Connor the same way her great-grandfather McAllister had won it from Seth’s great-grandfather so long ago—in a poker game.

  That had been the beginning of the McAllister and O’Connor feud. Judging by the animosity vibrating between the two of them, that dissension was still burning bright and strong. But there had been a brief time when Josie had believed she and Seth would be the ones to breach the conflicts that had trickled down through three generations. She’d been so hopeful that the strife between their families would finally end.

  She’d been young, naive, and so wrong about Seth O’Connor’s intentions . . . so easily duped by a heart-stopping grin, and so effortlessly seduced by the taste of her first real kiss and the promise of real love.

  She was older, and certainly wiser about how the O’Connors operated. She’d learned the hard way their motives were always self-serving. With that thought, she hardened her resolve. “You won’t get away with this, Seth,” she vowed, and thrust the offending document back at him.

  “I already have.” Expression uncompromising, he took the deed from her. When his fingers brushed hers, she felt as though she’d been zapped by a bolt of lightning. The sizzle coursed up her arm, spread through her breasts and settled in the pit of her belly like a warm pool of molasses.

  She shook off the unwanted sensation and jutted her chin up a notch, refusing to be intimidated by his superior height, or the intense heat blazing in the depths of his blue eyes. “If you expect me to pack up and leave without a fight, then you have another thing coming.”

  “On the contrary, darlin’,” he said, his smooth drawl at odds with the resentment she detected in his voice. “I fully expect you to stay.”

  Wariness pulsed through her with every heartbeat, making her feel like a cornered deer staring down the barrel of a rifle—with no means of escape. Was he tricking her somehow? Letting her believe that he wasn’t going to take away the only home she and Kellie had? “I . . . I don’t understand.”

  “There’s a stipulation to the deed,” he said very carefully, as if he wanted her to understand what he was about to say. “A provision your father set and I agreed to before I won that last poker hand.”

  So, he’d made his own sacrifice to gain what he wanted—the property that once belonged to his family. She was certain whatever price he’d paid wasn’t as great as her father’s loss, or her own dismal future. “What kind of stipulation?”

  His smile was grim. “That we get married.”

  Chapter Two

  Josie stared at Seth incredulously. Losing the ranch to him was one thing, but to marry him? She knew her father could be irresponsible, but she couldn’t imagine him making such a ridiculous demand, and of an O’Connor, no less.

  “You’re joking!” He had to be.

  “I wish I were.” He crossed his arms over his wide chest, his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. “The stipulation states that I’ll marry you within one week in order to gain the Golden M.”

  The way she saw it, if she refused her father’s terms, there was no way Seth could claim the property. Her father had outsmarted an O’Connor!

  It was her turn to be smug. “What makes you believe I’d want to marry you to fulfill the terms of that stipulation?”

  “Because it would be in both of our interests to do so.”

  He didn’t look the least bit concerned by her unwillingness to help him fulfill the terms of her father’s stipulation, and that realization caused a niggling of unease to curl within her. “How do you figure it would be in my best interest to marry someone I
despise just so he could claim my property?”

  A hint of challenge flickered in his gaze. “Because if you don’t become my wife, you forfeit the Golden M.”

  She frowned at him. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  From his shirt pocket where he’d tucked away the quitclaim deed he now withdrew another folded piece of paper. Opening it, he held it toward her.

  “Read the terms of the stipulation for yourself,” he prompted when she merely stared at the signed and notarized document. “It states that I’ll marry you within a week in order to acquire the Golden M, at which time it will become joint property since we’ll be man and wife.” He gave her a moment to absorb that before continuing. “However, if you refuse to marry me within the specified week, then you lose the Golden M, and I’ll have every right as the owner to toss you off the ranch. And if we do get married, and one of us insists upon a divorce, that person forfeits their half of the land to the other.”

  Unable to believe her father would enforce such binding conditions, she grabbed the document from him and read the contents. By the time she verified her father’s signature on the bottom line, panic and dread balled in her stomach.

  She stared up at Seth, tasting the bitterness of defeat. “You agreed to this . . . to this farce?”

  “I’ve got nothing to lose.” He casually moved closer, and her heart rate accelerated. “And a whole lot to gain.”

  She was the one who stood to relinquish everything if she balked at the terms outlined in the agreement. It just didn’t make sense. Why would her father force her to marry someone who hated her as equally as she detested him, and set forth terms that made a future divorce near impossible unless she walked away from the only home she’d ever known?

  “So, what’ll it be, Josie, darlin’?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, husky pitch. Reaching out, he stroked his knuckles over her cheek, the tender gesture at odds with the fierce light in his eyes. “Shall I make an appointment with Reverend Wilcox for this week?”

  She opened her mouth to issue a scathing reply, but found her throat suddenly dry. His thumb brazenly skimmed over her bottom lip, as soft as a caress. Her stomach dipped and tumbled. Bolder still, he held her gaze and strummed his warm fingers down her throat and along the open collar of her blouse.

  Her breathing deepened and she shivered, unable to stop memories of how gentle those big hands of his could be as they slid over her body. How delightfully sweet and seductive.

  It had been so long since she’d experienced such consuming passion, such overwhelming need . . . but it all came crashing back to her in that moment. She couldn’t help the tiny moan that escaped her.

  He watched her with great interest, a faint, satisfied smile touching his mouth. “Seems to me there could be other advantages to us getting married,” he murmured as one long finger slowly followed the V of her blouse to where the last button ended between her breasts.

  Her nipples automatically tightened, and she knew he could see the dusky rose tips through the thin cotton material. Horrified that he could manipulate her emotions so easily, and still have so much control over her body’s response to him, she reached for her temper, embraced the flood of anger, and let it explode.

  She slapped his hand away from the button she knew he could so easily flick open with his fingers—he’d proved that particular skill eleven years ago. “I’ll see you in hell before I agree to marry you!”

  She tried to move around him, but he was fast and agile, bracing both his hands on the porch railing on either side of her, trapping her against him. Before she could raise her knee and use it as a means of self-defense, he pushed a hard thigh between hers, immobilizing her lower body.

  The heat that flared within her matched the flames in his eyes. She shoved at his shoulders, but he was a solid mass of muscle and strength, and the only thing her struggling accomplished was to make Seth press closer. Their position became as intimate as two lovers entwined in a sensual embrace.

  Except they were enemies and hated one another. She doubted Seth found anything arousing about their situation. She certainly didn’t!

  She attempted to lean back, but the railing bit into her spine. That discomfort was nothing compared to the scratch of denim between her thighs, and the metallic bite of Seth’s heavy belt buckle pressing against the strip of bare skin exposed between her breasts and the waistband of her shorts. She did her best to ignore the liquid warmth rushing through her veins.

  He blew out a harsh breath that tickled the loose strands of hair around her face. His body shifted subtly to accommodate her wriggling, and she felt the muscles flex beneath the hands she’d flattened on his chest. She was appalled to discover that he wasn’t as immune to their position as she’d originally thought. The evidence of his desire nudged the front zipper of her shorts, an unmistakable masculine hardness that caused a deep, clenching thrill to spiral straight to where his knee pressed so insistently.

  She didn’t understand how two people who despised each other so much could respond to one another on such a primitive, sensual level. Couldn’t comprehend how eleven years of anger and hurt could melt away with just a look, a touch from Seth. He seemed to be her greatest weakness, despite his past betrayal.

  His warm gaze focused on her mouth, and the vital hunger she saw there swept through her like the touch of wildfire. And then he gradually lowered his head, his parted lips homing in on hers.

  She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. She was fully aware of the quiver of anticipation thrumming beneath the surface of her skin, the need to give herself to this man she’d never been able to forget . . . or forgive.

  Summoning every ounce of willpower she possessed, she turned her head away just as his lips descended. His mouth landed on her cheek, warm and damp and soft as down. Her lack of cooperation didn’t hinder the rogue’s exploration . . . his lips slid along her jaw to her ear, and she thought he murmured, “you still want me as much as I want you”, but couldn’t be sure. His rich, dark voice rumbled along her nerve endings, making it impossible for her to think coherently . . . making her dizzy with a wanting that was dangerous, and stupid.

  She gritted her teeth against the onslaught of his blatant sexuality and her body’s shocking response to his seduction tactics. “I hate you,” she whispered hoarsely, reminding him, and herself, of that fact. “And I refuse to marry you.”

  Finally, he lifted his head and gave her the breathing room she so desperately needed, but he didn’t let her loose. Triumph shone in his dark, sexy eyes. “You’d give me the ranch so easily? Just because you can’t stand the thought of me being your husband and having the right to touch you and kiss you? Or is it because you can’t stand the fact that you want me to touch you and kiss you that has you so fired up?”

  His words were mocking, too accurate, and they enraged her. His hold slackened, along with his body, giving her enough room to pull her arm back and wallop him in the belly. He grunted at the impact, but she knew the punch had startled him more than hurt him. Reflexively, he moved his arms from the railing to defend himself, enabling her to take advantage of his surprise and escape.

  Side-stepping him, she headed down the porch stairs and headed across the lawn toward the stables in her bare feet. She came upon the Stetson she’d shot off his head earlier. Smirking at the gaping hole in the crown, she gave it a good swift kick that sent it tumbling in the opposite direction.

  She heard him swear colorfully from behind her, ignored him when he demanded she come back so they could finish their discussion. His boots echoed off the wooden steps as he followed her. She picked up her pace, putting as much distance as she could between them, even though she knew it was inevitable they talk and settle issues.

  His taunting words, you’d give me the ranch so easily, played through her mind, making her realize the seriousness of the situation. No, she wouldn’t just hand over the only home she’d ever known. But the thought of becoming Seth O’Connor’s wife and living wit
h him on a daily basis with all the resentment and bitterness between them was enough to make her want to rail at the injustice.

  There was Kellie to consider in this mess of things, too. How would her daughter react to her mother marrying a virtual stranger? And most importantly, how would Seth treat Kellie considering the awful rumors of the past?

  Dad, how could you do this to me? Tears of frustration and uncertainty burned the back of her eyes. She needed to find her father—not that his presence would change the future if those documents Seth had in his possession were legal. But surely they could work out some other compromise or monetary compensation.

  Seth caught her before she could slip into the stables and lose him in the maze of stalls. His hand closed around her arm, bringing her to an abrupt halt, and turned her around to face him. She glared at his intrusion, despite the hot tears of anger threatening to spill over her lashes.

  One look into her eyes and the dark, irritable scowl etching his features slowly faded, replaced by something more charitable. Compassion, she briefly wondered? Surely not. An O’Connor wouldn’t know that emotion if it slapped him in the face.

  “Look,” he said, his tone gruff with impatience. “I know this is a shock and you’re upset-”

  “I’m not upset. I’m furious!” She shook off his hand, her lips pursing into a tight line. “This is my home, and I’ll be damned if I’ll just hand it over to you without a fight!”

  “If you fight it, you’ll lose everything, Josie,” he stated relentlessly. “Thanks to your father, there’s one way you can keep the ranch and land, and that’s to marry me.”