by Sara Orwig
He stole her breath with a kiss. A passionate, possessive kiss that made her weak in the knees and intensified the ache for him low inside her. She wanted his hands and his mouth all over her.
He wanted her, too; she could feel his hardness pressed against her thigh. But would that change when he learned her news? Would he still want her to go home with him?
Struggling with her thoughts and fears, she pushed him away. Her breath was ragged when she spoke. “Nick, I need to tell you something. Please sit.”
He picked her up and sat in a chair with her on his lap.
She shook her head. “This isn’t what I had in mind, because I don’t think you’re going to be happy. In a few minutes, I think you’ll want to say goodbye and go home alone.” Her heart ached as she said the words.
He shook his head and framed her face with his hands. “There’s nothing you can tell me that can change the way I feel. I love you and I want you in my life always.”
“I’ll give you a chance to say that again and this first time won’t count. Right after I give you my news.” She drew a deep breath and blurted it out.
“Nick, I’m pregnant with your baby.”
He stared at her as if he couldn’t understand what she’d said.
“I’m carrying your baby now,” she repeated. “I know that’s not what you wanted. You told me you had enough and you didn’t want any more children. Now, I’ve had two miscarriages, so I don’t know what will happen with this third pregnancy. They couldn’t find why I miscarried those first two times, but the doctor says so far everything looks fine this time. The baby’s due next spring and—”
She realized she was babbling and she stopped herself. She looked deep in Nick’s eyes and tried to read his thoughts. But failed. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, she steeled herself for his response, knowing he would rescind his offer, his declarations of forever love.
“I want you to come home with me and let me take care of you and our baby. That’s really what I want with all my heart.”
She stared at him, not believing her own ears. He wanted the baby? He wanted her?
“Nick, don’t tell me that if you don’t mean it.”
“I mean it.” A smile broke out across his lips and he hugged her. “We’re going to have a baby. Oh, Talia. I want you to come home with me. I want this baby.”
“That’s a complete turnaround from what you told me before.”
“Yes, it is, but I’ve been around Hattie more and I’ve done without both of you in my life and that was worst of all. I’m willing to take those risks. I love you.”
Her heart thundered so hard she thought it’d burst with joy. But before she could show him how happy she was, he stood up and put her carefully in the chair.
“I have to go out to my truck. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She went to the window, and she saw him in his truck looking down at something he must have in his hands. When he came back inside, she stood there waiting for him. “What are you doing?”
He crossed the room to her. “Talia Duncan, I love you with all my heart. And I love little Hattie. I want both of you to come back home so I can take care of you. And I want our baby. Our baby—that sounds wonderful. You’ll carry this baby and Hattie will have a little brother or a little sister.”
Tears stung her eyes and she slipped her arms around his neck. “Nick, you better mean what you say,” she whispered before she kissed him.
His arm banded her waist tightly and he held her pressed against him. “Call your doctor tomorrow and see if we can have sex while you’re pregnant.”
She laughed. “That wasn’t what caused my miscarriages and I can answer that. Yes, we can. This is very early in this pregnancy.”
“I brought Hattie a present.” He held up a small gift bag. “I got you one, too.”
“Nick,” she said, smiling. “Stop buying so much for Hattie. She’ll be spoiled rotten.”
“No, she won’t. Impossible. She’s way too sweet. Here’s your present, Talia.” He reached into the bag and pulled out a small box wrapped in white paper and tied with a big blue silk bow.
“Oh, Nick.” From the size of the box, she guessed it was a bracelet to match the pendant he had given her. She tore the wrappings away and opened the box to see another fancy box, a much smaller one, that she opened. A dazzling diamond ring was nestled against black velvet.
“Nick, this is gorgeous.”
He took it out of the box. “We married for convenience and I only gave you a wedding band. Now this is for love and this ring I got for you out of love. I want the world to know I love you and you’re my bride.” He took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger.
“Oh, Nick, I love it!” she said as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. His arms banded her waist again and he leaned over her to kiss her long and passionately, making her heart race and filling her with joy.
“Hey,” he said, leaning back and looking down at her. “You’re crying.”
“They’re tears of joy. I never thought I’d hear you say you loved me, but you did. I love you with all my heart and I know we’re going to have a wonderful family. Nick, you will always miss Regina and Artie and your mom and your grandmother, but you’re going to be showered with love by me, by Hattie and by our little baby.”
He lowered his hand to her still-flat belly, as if to embrace their unborn baby. “I almost made the biggest mistake of my life, but I was already on my way to fixing it because I had that ring made for you two weeks ago.”
She gazed into his green eyes and her heart pounded with joy. “Nick, I just know I won’t miscarry this time. We’ll have our babies, and Hattie will have a little brother or sister. You really did give me the world when you married me—your love, Hattie as my daughter, a new baby, your family’s love. You have the money, sweetie, but I have the riches.” She cradled his jaw and rained kisses over his face. “As long as we have each other’s love and our little babies, we’ll have everything. Everything worth risking your heart for.” She set one last kiss on his lips. “I love you.”
“And I love you, darlin’, with all my being. Now I can tell those brothers of mine that not one of them is going to get you to leave me and marry him.”
She laughed as she hugged him and leaned close again to kiss him. “I’m all yours. I love you, my handsome Texas rancher.”
* * * * *
If you liked this story of passion and family saga in Texas,
don’t miss the LONE STAR LEGENDS series from
USA TODAY bestselling author Sara Orwig!
THE TEXAN’S FORBIDDEN FIANCÉE
A TEXAN IN HER BED
AT THE RANCHER’S REQUEST
KISSED BY A RANCHER
THE RANCHER’S SECRET SON
THAT NIGHT WITH THE RANCHER
Available now from Harlequin Desire!
***
And don’t miss the next
BILLIONAIRES AND BABIES story:
UPSTAIRS DOWNSTAIRS BABY
by Cat Schield
Available April 2018!
***
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Keep reading for an excerpt from A CONVENIENT TEXAS WEDDING by Sheri WhiteFeather.
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A Convenient Texas Wedding
by Sheri WhiteFeather
One
Allison Cartwright was in a pickle. The dill of all dills, she thought. The big, fat sour kind sold in American delicatessens, known for making one’s face pucker. She might as well be making that expression right now.
Her temporary visa would be expiring soon, and she didn’t want to return to her family’s sheep farm in Kenmare, Ireland, bleating like a lost lamb.
Presently, she sat in the passenger seat of an Uber car. The driver had picked her up at her apartment in Dallas, Texas, and was taking her to the exclusive Bellamy resort in Royal, Texas.
On this hot summer afternoon, she’d donned a sleeveless blouse and a long, pleated skirt with side pockets. Her deep red hair was smooth and straight, and her fair skin was scrubbed clean. Although she’d gotten used to thinking of herself as more plain than pretty, she sometimes wondered what being the sophisticated type would be like. But she had plenty of other things, besides her lack of glamour, to occupy her mind.
As the vehicle advanced on the interstate highway that led to Royal, she glanced down at her cowgirl-style boots with their brown leather, blue stitching and pointed toes. She’d purchased them when she first arrived in Texas, and this was where she wanted to stay. Even as a child, she’d been consumed with America, most specifically Texas, studying about it every chance she got. She’d always dreamed of living here.
During her teenage years, she helped out on her family’s farm and took online writing courses. Once she became an adult, she sold magazine articles to a variety of publications. But she also had a regular job, waiting tables in a popular tourist spot. She worked her tail off, saving practically everything she earned so she could visit the States one day and write an epic novel with a dashing Texas hero.
Then, just this year, she’d had an affair with the worst person imaginable, a handsome rancher and businessman who’d charmed her from the first moment he’d come into the restaurant. She’d followed him here to Texas with romantic notions and had spent three months growing closer to the man she’d known as Will Sanders. But that wasn’t who he was. About a month ago, she’d learned that his real name was Rich Lowell. By then, he was gone, completely out of her life. But that was a complex situation, too. When they were still together, she’d been informed that he’d been killed in a plane crash.
The funeral had been horrific. But the kicker? The real Will Sanders had shown up, walking straight into the service and stunning everyone in attendance. Allison had been shocked beyond belief, particularly when she’d discovered the truth. At the time, she’d thought the man who’d died, the man with whom she’d had an affair, was Will Sanders.
The impostor had even stolen Will’s face, altering his appearance to look just like him. Allison wasn’t privy to the details of where Will had been during the nearly two years that Rich had taken over his life. But she’d been supplied with enough information to know that Will had been recovering from injuries Rich had inflicted upon him.
At this point, Rich was presumed dead. But while the case was still under investigation, the people who’d attended the funeral had been warned to keep what they knew among themselves. For however long it took to fit the pieces altogether, the authorities wanted Will to stay out of sight and “play” dead, as if there had only ever been one Will Sanders all along.
In some ways, Allison felt like a ghost, too, floating around with her pain. Fool that she was, she’d given the impostor her life savings, right along with a piece of her naive heart.
But she was venturing forward, one cautious step at a time. She’d received an anonymous note to meet with someone at 2:00 p.m. today at the statue of Diana in the gardens of The Bellamy. In part the note read: I heard that your visa is set to expire. Do you want a green card? If you do, I have an interesting proposal for you. Yours, Mr. X.
She had no idea who this Mr. X was or where he’d heard about her visa or what made him assume that she might want a green card. He could have come to her home since he obviously knew her address, having sent her the note. But he’d invited her to meet in a public place instead. She hoped that meant he wasn’t a raving lunatic.
However, just in case, she was armed with a can of pepper spray in her right skirt pocket. Also, she figured that in an establishment like The Bellamy with security on staff, she could scream if he tried to accost her. Allison intended to be extra careful. Still, this was a risk, meeting a stranger and making herself vulnerable to him.
But damn it, she wanted a green card more than ever, especially after everything she’d been through. Forging ahead was a means of gaining her independence and restoring her self-worth, of not letting the man who’d broken her heart and stolen her money destroy what was left of her already fractured spirit.
Determined to stay strong, she glanced out the window, preparing for her meeting with Mr. X.
When she arrived at the hotel, she thanked the driver and exited the car. Making haste, she entered the lobby and checked her smartphone for the time. She had twenty minutes to spare.
She went over to the concierge and retrieved a map of the resort so she could make her way to the statue. The Bellamy sat on fifty-plus acres of lavish gardens. She wasn’t going to wander the grounds without direction.
Thankfully, the marble statue was easy to find. As Allison crossed the lawn, she spotted it in the distance. Diana, the Roman goddess of the hunt, the moon, and nature, proved strong and beautiful, reaching for an arrow from her quiver.
But it wasn’t only Diana that Allison saw. As she moved closer, she noticed a tall, striking man. He stood in front of the statue, with his stylishly messy black hair shining in the sun, and he was dressed in a button-down shirt and business tie. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, and with how powerful his aura was, he could’ve been daring the goddess to hand over one of her prized arrows to him.
Allison’s breaths grew labored. He wasn’t looking her way. His head was turned, his profile thrillingly familiar. Even from this range, she recognized him as Rand Gibson. He was closely associated with the real Will Sanders, and like Allison, he’d been at the funeral when all hell had broken loose.
Rand turned, all too suddenly, and appeared to catch sight of her from across the grass that separated them. She hoped that she didn’t lose her footing and fall flat on her bum. Rand was a local celebrity of sorts, a much-talked-about millionaire playboy with a huge social media following. In her mind, he would make the quintessential book hero, the wild type who made women swoon. Even she had the maddest crush on him, and considering her latest ordeal, she shouldn’t be having crushes on anyone.
In the real world, she barely knew Rand. Over the past month, since Will’s funeral, they’d crossed paths a few times at the Texas Cattleman’s Club here in Royal. Allison wasn’t a member of the club. She’d been invited to go there by Megan Phillips, one of the other women who’d been hurt by Rich Lowell. But for now Allison was immersed in the mystery of Mr. X
and how that was going to play out.
Rand couldn’t be Mr. X, could he? No, she thought. It wasn’t even two o’clock yet. Mr. X simply wasn’t there yet. Besides, why would Rand offer to help her get a green card? And why would he send her an anonymous note? It didn’t add up.
Yet, he seemed as if he were waiting for someone. Most likely he was there to rendezvous with one of his many lovers. Any moment now, a pleasure-seeking beauty was going to emerge from the other side of the garden and catwalk straight into his arms.
So what should Allison do? Keep heading toward the statue to wait for Mr. X? It was too late to hide behind a tree until Rand was gone. He’d already seen her.
If he knew she was there to meet a stranger, with a can of pepper spray in her skirt pocket, would he shake his head and tell her to go home? Not to Dallas, but back to Kenmare, where she belonged?
With the stubbornness associated with redheads, Allison lifted her chin and flicked back her hair. She wasn’t going anywhere, except straight over to that damnable statue. When Mr. X arrived, she would have to lead him away from Rand, if Rand was still milling about. Of course Mr. X might stand her up altogether. She could very well be the butt of a joke. But that was a chance she was willing to take.
As she cut a determined path toward the marble goddess, Rand set out, too, striding, it seemed, in Allison’s direction.
He moved at an easy pace, a flicker of a smile forming on his lips. Allison tossed a quick glance over her shoulder, making certain there wasn’t another woman behind her that Rand was smiling at. Nope. She was the only female there. Saints preserve her, but maybe he was Mr. X.
They came face-to-face, and her heart stuttered in her chest. His electric-green eyes bore into hers. She had green eyes, too, the same noticeably bright shade as his. But on him, she thought the color looked far more intense. Everything about him was supernaturally gorgeous. He stood broad-shouldered and regal, with features consisting of darkly arched eyebrows, a straight, strongly formed nose and a prominent jaw peppered with perfectly defined, expertly trimmed beard stubble. But the final dream factor was his supremely kissable mouth. Insane as it was, she actually imagined taking long, luscious, forbidden tastes of him.
