The Cowboy Proposes... Marriage?

by Cathy Forsythe

  Jace took what he wanted from life and he was rarely denied. She’d seen that over and over as she’d followed his business successes in the newspapers her father had sent her. Danielle closed her eyes, trying to block the memories, but they flooded through her with too much force to be stopped.

  From the first time he’d seen her, he’d pursued her with single-minded purpose.

  Her first solo effort at entertaining had been at the age of nineteen. Everything had to be perfect so her daddy would be proud.

  It had been a large party, with too many people whom Danielle had never met. They were her father’s acquaintances, business contacts and people who could further his investments.

  But having been raised to perform as the consummate hostess, she smiled, shook hands and made small talk until her jaw ached. The evening stretched interminably ahead. She was bored, her feet hurt, and she wanted to go to bed. Until she sensed him watching her.

  First her skin tingled, then she felt a gaze on her back, stroking like a gentle caress. A shiver shuddered through her as the gaze insistently urged her to turn around.

  When she did, the intense blue of his eyes captured her attention and scattered all thoughts of her responsibilities. Heat poured through her limbs, leaving her weak, disoriented. Shaken by her immediate reaction to the stranger, she wandered away from the conversation around her without a word of excuse.

  Suddenly, she felt the need for a drink. Not normally one to indulge in alcohol at these gatherings, she snagged a glass of champagne from the first waiter she passed and headed toward the fresh air beckoning from the open patio doors. The man was moving closer, seeking her out, and Danielle sensed there was nothing she could do to avoid him. She wasn’t certain she even wanted to try.

  A soft touch brushed against her shoulder.

  “Mind if I join you, ma’am?” The husky drawl stroked across her skin like a trickle of warm sand.

  She turned slowly, warily, knowing what that gaze could do to her. Sucking in a deep breath, she tried to speak normally. “What can I do for you, Mr....?”

  “Farrell, ma’am. Jace Farrell.”

  He’d been twenty-two years old and full of confidence—a confidence that enveloped her and made her believe anything was possible.

  He took her elbow and guided her to the open French doors. Once on the porch, he turned away from the couples gathered there and managed to find a secluded corner shadowed by a thicket of trees.

  She leaned against the rail and waited, anticipation sifting through her.

  He didn’t run his gaze over the length of her body the way most men did when they met her. His eyes never wavered, never looked away from hers. He seemed to be trying to get inside her emotions, to get to know her without taking the time for small talk.

  She returned his stare, determined not to be intimidated, but the need to retreat was almost overwhelming as the silence stretched between them.

  “You’ll be sharing my bed before the month is over.”

  She gasped at his wild assertion, the sudden breath tangling in her throat. The man was more than a shade crazy. She edged backward, only to be halted by the porch railing.

  “And you’ll be my wife before the end of the year.”

  She should have laughed in his face. Or thrown her champagne at him. Instead, she felt tingling excitement shoot through her, lighting her blood like a Fourth of July sparkler.

  “Mr. Farrell, I—”

  “I know.” His lips lifted into a grin. “I sound a bit loco. But I always know what I want when I see it.” The smile faded as he moved closer, his mouth almost touching hers, his breath stroking her face. “I want you. And I always get what I want.”

  He didn’t kiss her. Instead, he smoothed his finger across her lips and withdrew. But Danielle felt like she’d been branded. He pulled her hand into his and led her inside as if knowing just how much he tempted her. Her body reacted to him with a white heat that threatened her composure. She wanted him to touch her again...and again...so this flaring excitement would never dissipate.

  He stayed with her the remainder of the evening, tactfully extracting her from lengthy conversations, following her to the kitchen while she checked on the food, making certain there was always a full glass of champagne in her hand. His fingers drifted at the small of her back as he guided her gently with a touch to her elbow, never satisfying her growing need, always leaving her hungering for more.

  Later, she tried to blame the champagne. But deep down inside, she knew different. He was different. He was dangerous. And she couldn’t resist the chance to play with the fire sparking between them.

  As the evening drew to a triumphant close, he pulled her aside. Trapping her against the wall with his lean length, he smiled, a slow, seductive twist of his lips, before asking, “May I buy you a cup of coffee, ma’am?”

  She’d been lost ever since.

  “May I buy you a cup of coffee, ma’am?”

  The words echoed through her thoughts and it took a moment to realize Jace was standing beside her, a mug of coffee in each hand.

  She glanced at the black leather furniture in the rugged room. She was no longer at her home, finishing up a major function as her daddy’s hostess while trying to fight off a shocking attraction to a totally unsuitable man. She was in Jace’s home, listening to the wind build outside, surrounded by rough log walls, masculine furniture and Southwestern artifacts.

  And she’d just declared she despised the man she was destined to marry.

  Her fingers trembling slightly, she grabbed at the mug like a lifeline and took a quick sip, hoping the caffeine would help clear the past from her mind.

  It was over. All of it. She needed to hang on to that. Love wasn’t possible between her and Jace, at least not a mutual love. She needed to remember the purpose of her marriage to him. It was little more than a business arrangement and she needed to keep her distance. It was the only way she could maintain her sanity.

  Jace set down his coffee and turned to the fireplace. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  She froze, the mug halfway to her mouth. Jace wanting to talk? Wanting to know what she thought? A bitter laugh almost escaped. This was something to be noted down in her book of firsts. But in spite of this shocking new turn, she wasn’t ready to bare her soul. At least not to Jace Farrell. She might never be ready. “No.”

  Jace shrugged, apparently unconcerned by her response. “Snow’s getting bad, so you might as well spend the night. I wouldn’t want you to get stuck in that fancy little car. The plows might not dig you out for days.”

  Danielle swiped at the dark circles she knew were rimming her eyes. A few days of isolation would be heavenly. If only it could be with anyone else but Jace.

  From the moment her father had called three months ago asking for her help, she hadn’t slept well. Before, her life had been so simple. She’d been working her way up the corporate ladder at a midsize investment firm in Denver. It was difficult being away from home, but she’d been trying to learn everything she could for the day when her father let her join him in the family company which held widespread investments in land, restaurants, and banking. Now, she was setting herself up as a full-time bought-and-paid-for wife.

  She watched Jace build the fire, enjoying the play of muscles in his back-a back that was broader, harder than before. When he’d held her last night, it was as if no time had passed between them. Even after all these years, she hadn’t convinced her body not to want him. The old memories tried crowding into her mind, but she shoved them away.

  All but one recollection obligingly faded.

  He’d said he wanted to marry her, take her as his wife.

  It had all been part of his deception to get the money he needed for his ranch.

  By this time, if everything had gone according to his plans, they would have been married for over ten years, would probably have had several children. And she still might not know the truth. Because she’d been so in love with him,
so wrapped up in their future together, she hadn’t noticed the little things that showed his true feelings.

  Pain lanced through her at the memories, the hopes, the dreams they’d shared.

  But it was too late for that fairy tale. Now, they would still be married, but there would be no love given...or taken. Jace wanted her physically, but she needed more from him. She needed all of him, his heart included. But his heart wasn’t part of the deal.

  Danielle squeezed her eyes shut. Heaven help her, but she hoped she was doing the right thing. Jace held so much power over her emotions. She had spent the past twenty-four hours desperately searching for another way to help her father. But Jace was the only knight available—and his armor was tarnished.

  “Your predictions were wrong,” she whispered as the sound of a striking match punctuated her words.

  “What predictions?”

  “We didn’t marry within the year.” The past pierced her heart.

  “But you were in my bed the next week.” He set flame to the newspaper as easily as he’d set flame to her body. In bed with him, she’d reveled in her newfound sensuality. He’d been her first lover, had taught her well, had taught her to enjoy her own body...and his.

  Did he remember, too? Did it keep him awake at night until he thought he’d die of longing? That night had been pure magic. But magic never lasted forever. It tended to fade in the cold light of reality.

  “That was only half of your prediction.”

  He turned to stare at her, the firelight casting his face in shadows.

  “Well, darlin’, you are going to marry me.”

  “But it won’t be a real marriage. We don’t love each other.” She took another gulp of coffee, barely noticing as it burned her tongue. Maybe the sting would remind her not to let herself be burned twice by passion’s flames.

  “It’ll be real enough.” Jace stood, his movements powerful, and walked over to join her. He sat right next to her, rather than backing off to the corner like most people would. But then Jace rarely acted like most people.

  Fidgeting with her mug, she waited. His leg brushed against hers. She scooted over a few inches. The fire popped, and she felt Jace studying her, but she refused to look up. Long seconds passed by, then he moved closer again, his body heat penetrating her clothing and warming her thigh.

  “So.” She wet her lips and gulped a mouthful of coffee. “Where do we start?”

  He shrugged, staring into the orange flames. “You hate me, hate what I’m doing. At least that’s out in the open.”

  She dissected his words, his tone, trying to discover what he was feeling, but she couldn’t tell a thing. Reminding herself of her father’s situation, she forced the proper words to her lips. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  She’d have to be cautious. He could still read her every thought before she’d even expressed it. Danielle tried to rein in her racing mind long enough to form an answer. When she didn’t respond, he stood and went upstairs, leaving her to struggle alone with her doubts.

  A few minutes later, he returned and dropped something into her lap. “You’ll need a ring to make this official.”

  Danielle stared at the glittering diamond ring with a sense of helpless wonder. “You saved it?” Her voice barely reached the level of a whisper. Emotion threatened to choke her as she dared to hope that he might have cared more than he’d ever admit.

  “The stones were too small to make it worth selling, so I kept it to remind me of what could happen if I wasn’t careful.”

  Her wonder deflated with a painful whoosh and she closed her eyes against the agony his words caused.

  “Put it on. I’m sure it will fit.”

  She clamped her lips together. She wanted to lash out at him, to hurt him. But she was smart enough to know that he would win any battle of wits and she would only end up making herself miserable. Maybe if she played the game, she could tame him just enough to make their life together bearable.

  She buried her wants and needs deep in her heart. The marriage was inevitable. No matter which way she turned, there was no other way to help her father. She knew that once Jace set his mind on something, he would get it. And right now, for whatever reason, he wanted her.

  “Will you do the honors?” She held out the ring, pleading silently that he make an effort.

  “I suppose you want me to get down on one knee, too?”

  She forced a smile to her lips, determined to make this into a special moment. “It would be a nice gesture, but it’s not necessary. You already did that part once.”

  In fact, the night he’d bought her that ring had been the most romantic night of her life. It would be a wonderful memory to cling to when the days grew too cold and lonely. At least her nights wouldn’t be spent in isolation. Her blood heated at the thought of sharing a bed with Jace again.

  He snatched the ring from her grasp and grabbed her left hand. At her soft gasp, he gentled his grip and carefully slid the ring on her finger. Very slowly, as if giving her time to escape, he bent his head toward hers. Just before their lips touched, he spoke. “You’re mine, Danielle. And I don’t share.”

  Danielle gulped, unable to think of the sensible response with him so near. Instead, the wrong words crowded to her lips, words that needed to be said. “You promise to help my father?”

  He hesitated, his mouth a breath away from hers, and she could feel the anger building inside him. Regret washed over her, regret that she’d spoiled the moment by bringing up the reason for their marriage. But she had to be certain.

  His mouth met hers and she whimpered as his heat washed over her. He reached for her shoulders and propelled her against the back of the couch, never breaking the contact. His tongue swept over her lips, demanding entry into her mouth, but she pressed them tightly together.

  When he softened the kiss to heartbreaking sweetness, she tried to twist away. But he held her, coaxing a response. It became a battle of wills to see who would win this contest. Danielle was determined to make her point. She wouldn’t keep her part of the bargain until he promised to keep his.

  Finally, Jace broke away, his breathing labored as he leaned back to glare at her. He quirked one eyebrow. “Denying me my rights already?”

  Danielle resisted the urge to wipe away the deceit of that kiss and returned his glare. “We aren’t married yet. And I’m not denying you a thing.” She stood and walked over to the fire, needing distance between them. “I’ll be your wife and I’ll share your bed. That was the deal.” She closed her eyes, needing to shut out the image of his muscular body lounging against the black leather, a predatory wariness surrounding him. “But not until after the wedding.”

  “Then I may as well go to bed. Alone.” As he left the room, he paused on the third step and turned to her. “I had planned to make an effort at romance tonight. I thought it would make the whole thing easier on you. But you’re right. Why mix business with pleasure?” He let the silence build between them. “I’m sure you remember where the guest room is.”

  With those final words, he left her to sort through her feelings. Seeking the familiar, she threaded her fingers through the gold chain around her neck. Regret curled through her as he disappeared from view. They were going to need some rules in order to survive this marriage.

  As she brushed her hair from her face, the diamond winked. She raised her hand, surprised how heavily the ring weighed on her finger. The first time she’d worn it, the ring had represented a promise of a bright, happy future. Raymond’s ring had been more like the weighty burden of safety and security. But now, with Jace’s diamond once again on her finger, all she had was a cold, glittering reminder of all she’d lost and all she’d never have. It didn’t bear thinking about.

  Slowly, she followed him up the stairs. The wind rattled around the house, reminding her of just how alone she was. When she reached the top, she hesitated, contemplating the closed door of Jace’s bed room. Ha
d she made the wrong choice? It probably didn’t matter whether they waited for a wedding to sleep together, but it was important to her. She needed to exert some control over her life, over their relationship, and this was one small matter she had a say in.

  Walking past temptation, she entered the barren coldness of the guest room. Other than a few pieces of furniture and a handmade quilt on the bed, there was little to welcome her. But then, to her knowledge, few people ever visited Jace.

  Over the years, she’d never heard rumors of af fairs or women, so if he’d had either, he’d been very discreet. Jealousy flooded through her when she pictured another woman in Jace’s arms, another woman in his bed. He was a passionate man, a demanding lover, and she couldn’t imagine him being totally alone all this time.

  Her own memories of him, of his lovemaking, were so clear, so real. If she gave her body over to him now, she was afraid the relationship would consume her. Somehow she had to delay the physical side of the marriage, had to make Jace see that they needed to learn more about each other before they slept together.

  The barren silence surrounded her, broken only by the lonely wind, and she knew there would be no sleep for her the way things stood. She had to try to reason with him once more.

  Before common sense could prevail, Danielle retraced her path down the hall. Her knock was hesitant, his answer a long time in coming. Rather than barge in on him, she called through the door.

  “We need to talk, Jace.”

  Again, silence.

  “We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “Please, Jace.”

  Finally, he invited her in.

  She halted in the doorway, surprised to see that absolutely nothing had changed in the years she’d been away. The same handmade quilt covered the bed, the same oak furniture added a warm touch, and the same Southwestern art pieces still decorated the room.

  And Jace, bare-chested, sat in the four-poster bed, sheets pulled up to his waist, looking as impossibly virile as ever.