The Paternity Pact (Texas Cattleman's Club: Rags To Riches Book 3)

by Cat Schield

  The night of the TCC ball, he’d checked them into a hotel suite and spent the next two days utilizing every inch of the space, including the large shower. The sounds she’d made as she came beneath his mouth returned to him with vivid and arresting clarity. His recall was strengthened by the reawakening of his sharp hunger the previous evening when he’d spied Harley across the room. That weekend had reduced every encounter he’d had with other women to insubstantial shadows. Including his marriage to Paisley.

  Guilt stabbed at him. His inability to disengage his feelings for Harley had interfered with his relationship with his wife and caused the eventual destruction of his marriage. He’d never been in love with Paisley. By marrying her, he’d elevated her position in Royal and given her access to his significant wealth, thinking that was enough to keep her happy. He’d been wrong. She’d wanted more than fondness and fidelity from him. Too late, he discovered that she’d married him believing he’d come to love her. And like with his family, he’d been unable to live up to her expectations. He couldn’t help how his intellect caused him to negotiate through life and it frustrated him to be so misunderstood by those closest to him.

  His doorbell chimed, announcing a visitor. Never one to let stressful situations get to him, Grant caught himself sucking in a deep breath to steady his nerves. Irritated, he marched toward the foyer and threw open the front door. Harley stood on his front porch, looking cool and composed with her long brown hair pulled back from her face in a simple high pony and floral earrings dangling from her delicate earlobes.

  She wore a short-sleeved teal dress with a round neckline that showed no hint of cleavage. His heart boomed in his chest as he took in the way her modest knit garment flowed over her torso before flaring into a wide skirt with a knee-skimming hemline. This wasn’t an outfit for seducing a past lover and he grew more puzzled at what had motivated her to ask for this meeting.

  While he’d been surveying her, she’d taken in his white shirt and charcoal slacks. When his gaze returned to meet hers, their eyes locked for a brief second. The appreciation smoldering in her gaze sparked a matching heat inside him. Inviting her to his house was playing with fire. But dammit, he hadn’t felt this alive since she left town.

  Harley cleared her throat. “Hello, Grant.”

  “Good evening.”

  He plunged his hands into the front pockets of his slacks to keep from capturing her wrists and pulling her into his arms. Since they’d bumped into each other the night before, he’d become aware of a deep unfulfilled hunger gnawing at him. That neither time nor space had dimmed his appetite for her irritated him to no end.

  “Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

  She skimmed her palms down the front of her dress, smoothing the material in a nervous gesture that drew his attention to the lines of tension around her mouth.

  “Of course.”

  Her anxious energy hummed across the space between them, reminding him how she’d trembled as he’d undressed her that first time. He might have wondered at her jitters that night if he hadn’t been equally agitated as her dress had fallen away to reveal the most perfect breasts he’d ever seen. Unbidden, his gaze slid to her chest. Her breath hitched.

  As a roaring filled his ears, Grant took an involuntary step backward, thinking to escape the impact she had on him. He covered the retreat by sweeping his arm in an imperious gesture.

  “Come in.”

  “Thank you.”

  She ducked her head and sent him a furtive glance as she passed. Once inside, however, she stopped dead and looked around. Seeing that she wasn’t going to move beyond the wide foyer without coaxing, Grant led the way into the great room, taking the seconds to compose himself once more.

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Just some water if you have it.”

  “Have a seat.” He gestured toward the couch before heading to the dry bar and the beverage fridge stocked with water and sodas, wishing she’d asked for something stronger. Because he certainly could use a shot of whiskey to take the edge off.

  “I like your house,” Harley said, ignoring his invitation to sit down.

  Grant warmed to the approval shining in her eyes as she took in the neutral colors, clean lines, warm wood tones and mid-century modern architecture of his four-thousand-square-foot home. Each room boasted floor-to-ceiling windows, exposed wood beams and stark white walls adorned with large bright canvases depicting the rugged Texas landscape in full bloom.

  He set two bottles of water on the coffee table and watched as Harley explored the dining room and peered into the kitchen. Although tempted to offer her a full tour—ending with the master bedroom—Grant settled for trailing after her as she slipped through the open sliding glass door and stepped onto the pool deck. Lights hidden in the surrounding landscaping gave the outdoor space a cozy feel.

  “It’s a house made for entertaining,” she remarked as they made their way back inside. “I don’t suppose you’ve had any parties, though.”

  “They’re not really my thing.”

  Harley glanced his way. “How long have you been here?”

  “Since my divorce.”

  Grant had never regretted letting Paisley keep their Pine Valley house as part of their divorce settlement. The location had been too far from Royal Memorial Hospital and he’d never been a fan of the French country decor his ex had preferred. His new house was less than three years old, constructed after the hurricane that had torn through Royal six years earlier, demolishing homes and businesses in several neighborhoods on the west side and collapsing a wing of the hospital.

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you and Paisley.”

  Grant made an impatient gesture of dismissal. He didn’t want to talk with Harley about his failed marriage.

  “Why don’t you just tell me why you’re here,” he prompted, remembering that she’d appreciated his directness that weekend they’d spent together.

  He’d described how much he enjoyed her body and educated her where he’d liked her lips on him and how good she felt beneath him. She met his frankness with an openness that had made their time together the most spectacular sensual experience of his life.

  “Five years ago,” she began, her voice quavering, “we spent a weekend together...”

  “Yes.”

  Her gaze shot to his and just as quickly shifted away. If she intended to seduce him, she was going about it all wrong. Last time they’d been together, she’d been brazen and sexy and so full of her own power. Tonight, she could barely summon the courage to look at him. What had compelled her to seek him out after years of silence?

  From the moment he’d heard she was coming home, he had begun to debate with himself. Obviously, he wasn’t immune to her charms, but how much of what he felt was because one weekend with her hadn’t been enough to get her out of his system? Maybe all he needed was to see if his desire for her was honest or merely a tantalizing echo of the chemistry that had existed between them back then.

  “And it ended abruptly—”

  “You lied to me about who you were.” The memory of her deceit tasted bitter.

  “You never would’ve given me a chance if I told you I was eighteen. And that was the most amazing two days—” She cut off her words and blew out a harsh breath. “I’m tired of apologizing for what I did. Maybe I lied, but what harm did I do? No one knew we were together. The weekend didn’t blemish your reputation.”

  “Do you really think I was worried about my reputation?”

  Her eyes flared. “Then what?”

  He pressed his lips together, refusing to admit the true reason why he’d been so upset. Confessing that he’d been besieged by disappointment when he learned she was so young would give her too much power. He’d spent two magical nights with his arms wrapped around the woman of his dreams. Waking up Monday morning to dis
cover she was a mere girl had shattered something inside him. He’d opened himself up to her only to discover it had all been a lie.

  “Tell me why you were so mad that morning,” she prompted in soft tones.

  Grant narrowed the space between them, drawn to her even as his mind issued a shrill warning to stay away. “That weekend haunts me,” he rasped, cupping her head just below the silky ponytail and bending down until their lips were less than an inch apart. “It should never have happened.”

  He lifted his lashes and their eyes locked in a fierce staring contest. A thrill raced through him as her fingers clenched at his sleeve. Sparks danced across his skin as her breath hitched. Despite the questions dodging through her green gaze, her lips softened and parted.

  Not trusting his voice, he brushed his mouth against hers, letting their breaths mingle. At the contact, her body stiffened, muscles going utterly still. Discouraged by her cool response, while his insides smoldered and sizzled, Grant was on the verge of setting her free when her nails bit into his arm.

  “Grant.” His name came out of her in a husky plea.

  One kiss. That’s all he intended to steal from her. A single taste to demonstrate that he was in control of his impulses. He could indulge his hunger and then master it. Only it didn’t quite work out the way he’d hoped.

  Before he could think...before she could protest, his mouth claimed hers. The first touch of their lips transported him back to a frantic embrace in a private alcove at the TCC clubhouse where he’d backed her against the wall and stolen one deep and unrestrained kiss after another. The rest of the world fell away, leaving them the only two people on the planet.

  That night, she’d tasted like sweet strawberries and tart lemons. Tonight, he was treated to the sharp bite of mint as he ran his tongue over her lower lip, coaxing her to let him in. With a moan, she opened and he plunged his tongue inside her mouth, sweeping it around hers in a seductive dance.

  Drowning in the pleasure of her kiss, he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close. Pain shot through his chest at the sheer perfection of having her in his arms once more. How had he lived without this for five years? How could he have thought any woman could give him the pleasure a single kiss from Harley brought him? His palms slid over her hips and cupped the gentle curve of her butt, lifting her into his rapidly forming erection. That she turned him on with so little effort should’ve alarmed him. But his body and not his mind was in control now, spurred on by the delicious noises emanating from her throat. Distantly, he recognized that he would forever worship at her feet just to keep hearing those electrifying sounds of pleasure.

  Before he considered his actions, Grant bent down and swept her into his arms. His bedroom was several long strides away and he’d nearly reached the hallway before realizing that Harley was pushing her palm against his chest. He broke off the kiss and stopped.

  “Stop. Please,” she whispered, shaking her head. “We can’t. This isn’t why I came here tonight.”

  “Of course.”

  Shocked at his rashness, Grant set her back on her feet, steadying her as she swayed. At no point in the hours leading up to this meeting had he intended to kiss her much less haul her off to his bedroom. In truth, the moment he’d opened the door and found her standing on his doorstep, he’d been fighting the urge to pull her into his arms, cover her mouth with his and revisit any one of a hundred fantasies that he’d had of her over the years.

  “I don’t want that to happen again.” He declared the lie in an icy tone that made her lips twitch into a sad half smile.

  “So noted,” she said somberly.

  Heat pushed against his skin as desire continued to rage through him. What had happened to his self-control? He wasn’t a teenager incapable of resisting reckless impulses.

  “All the reasons it wouldn’t have worked between us all those years ago haven’t changed,” he blustered on, talking more to convince himself than to establish boundaries with her.

  At his curtness, her eyes flashed in a way that said her patience was running short. “I get it.” She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “Look. I didn’t come here to throw myself at you.”

  “Then why did you come?” he asked, his chilly manner hiding the wildfire that continued to rampage through him.

  She swung away with an inpatient exhalation and strode around the room. Drowning in confusion, he tracked her agitated movements for several long seconds.

  “I knew this was going to be hard,” she said at long last, coming to a halt five feet away. “But I had no idea how hard it would be.”

  He wasn’t good at this. On a routine day, husbands and sisters and friends dealt with his patients’ emotional breakdowns. Tonight, he alone must cope with whatever complex issue had created the anxiety that gripped Harley at the moment.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” he snapped, his discomfort getting the better of him. “Just spit it out.”

  For the briefest of seconds, she looked utterly crushed by his tone. Her stark vulnerability struck like a knife, driving between his ribs and into the unprotected flesh of his madly pumping heart.

  “Fine,” she said, her expression hardening with determination. “You’re a father.”

  * * *

  The second the words were out of her mouth, Harley wished she’d been less blunt as she delivered the news. One thing she hadn’t learned to do in the intervening years was curb her tendency to speak her mind. Diplomacy didn’t come easily, especially when her emotions ran hot like they were right now.

  “You’re lying.”

  Although she wasn’t surprised by his reaction, Harley flinched at his harsh accusation. She hadn’t expected that he’d believe her and couldn’t really blame him for being suspicious. If someone had appeared on her doorstep and made such a declaration, she’d want the claim proved, as well.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should’ve eased into that.”

  “You’re damn right you should have.”

  “But I’m not lying,” she continued, hoping her gravity would convince him she spoke the truth. “You have a son.”

  Grant showed the first chink in his armor as he rubbed his face. “It’s not possible.”

  “That first time...” she trailed off with a shrug, letting him fill in the gap with his own memories.

  He cursed. “Of course, there’ll have to be a paternity test.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

  “His name is Daniel and he’s four.” As she spoke Grant’s frown faded, his features shifting into stony lines as the impact of her words sank in. “He’s an awesome kid. Smart. Funny. Too old for his years.”

  In fact, he reminded her so much of his dad that it was a little scary. Up until now, Grant hadn’t supplied more than his genes, but in so many ways, her son was a carbon copy of the man who stood before her. Smart. Stubborn. Strong-willed. Adorable.

  “Grant?”

  “Yes?”

  His gaze had been searching the room as if desperate for something he could grab on to, something that made sense. He looked disoriented and entirely capable of falling over. He wouldn’t. Grant was a strong, powerful man. But even a big hunk could be leveled by an unexpected blow. And that’s exactly what Harley had delivered.

  “Are you okay?”

  “As fine as a man can be whose ex-lover shows up and declares he has a son.”

  Guilt twisted in her chest, making it hard for Harley to breathe. As much as she longed to offer him comfort or support, she kept her distance. What existed between them was too volatile. She couldn’t risk touching him again.

  “It’s a huge shock, I know.”

  He clenched his hands into fists. “If this is some twisted game...”

  “It’s not.”

  “As I said, I want a paternity test.”

  �
��We can do it whenever you want.”

  Instead of being satisfied with her easy agreement, his frown indicated that she’d annoyed him. What was wrong now? The test would prove she wasn’t lying. Daniel was his son.

  “Why now?”

  “Why now what?” she asked, frustrated that he was asking all these ridiculous questions when what he should really want to know about was his son.

  “It’s been five years.”

  “Things didn’t end well between us,” she reminded him.

  “That’s a poor excuse and you know it.”

  She’d imagined this encounter with Grant a thousand times. No matter how often she’d envisioned his reaction, vacillating between him throwing his arms around her in joy or shouting accusations at her, she hadn’t prepared herself for the moments after. Now that her emotional seesaw had stopped, Harley felt as if she’d stepped off a cliff and was plummeting thousands of feet through the air toward the earth below. The plunge was both terrifying and exhilarating.

  “Fine,” she groused. “I can’t tell you how many times I picked up the phone to call and tell you...”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “At first, I was mad. And then afraid.” She had no idea if exposing her vulnerability in this moment would get through to him or not. “And then you married Paisley and I didn’t want to mess up your situation.”

  “Paisley and I have been divorced for a while now.”

  “I know, but so much time had passed and I wasn’t sure...” She wasn’t sure about any of this. “Plus I was living overseas...”

  “You could’ve kept all of this a secret. I never would’ve known.”

  Telling him about Daniel meant he couldn’t eject her from his life as he’d once done. At least she hoped he wouldn’t. For a man as stuck in his head as Grant, she probably should have approached this whole thing logically. Appealing to his big beautiful brain would’ve given her faster results, but telling a man who’d rejected you in a big way that you gave birth to his son and kept that secret from him was too fraught with emotion for her to be rational.