Worth the Price

by Delilah Hunt

  His grip loosened. The aura of confidence around him diminished the moment his hand fell to his side. Good. She really hated to see him like this, but he had it coming assuming she would be his whore.

  “This has nothing to do with selling yourself to me. I never said that.”

  She cocked a hand on her hip. “No? Because I could have sworn a minute ago you said something to that effect.”

  “I know what I said. You don’t have to repeat it. I’m willing to give you the money, but I’ll change the terms.”

  “To what?”

  “I want you to marry me.”

  Oh my God. “Are you out of your mind?”

  His jaw tautened. “I take it you’d rather do without the money.”

  She had injured his pride. Drawing in a loud breath, she issued him a plaintive look. “Brandon, marriage isn’t something you throw out there like that at the drop of a hat. It’s a lifetime commitment. That’s how I view it. Also, are we forgetting the fact that you despise my father? I’m his daughter, so I assume by default you don’t have a great fondness for me either. Hmm, what else?” She tapped a finger to her chin. “Oh yeah. We barely know anything about each other. All you know about me is that I’m in a vulnerable position. I can’t marry you on those terms and I don’t see how you can be serious about something as important as making vows to each other.”

  He straightened to his full six-feet-four-inch height and edged closer. Her head scarcely reached his wide shoulders. She considered backing up but thought better of it. “I’m going to ask you one last time. No games. You want that money? Marry me and it’s yours. Hand it over directly to your da, do whatever the hell you want with it. I don’t care.”

  She searched his face. “Why are you saying this? It makes no sense why you’d be willing to enter into a permanent union with me, even if I’m to assume you’ll want your ‘husbandly rights’ in return. Tell me you’re not serious.”

  “I’m waiting on your answer.”

  Her mouth hung open. She blinked, then blinked again. He was actually serious! With an aching slowness, she slumped down into the sofa. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “A simple yes or no will do.”

  Marry. Money. Dad. Her thoughts jumbled and toppled over one another. Me. Brandon’s wife. Brandon. Husband. Danika palmed her temple. She was losing it. She peeked at him. But God the man looked gruff. Unexpectedly her stomach did a somersault. She was truly lost. Giving a weak nod, Danika said, “All right. I’ll marry you.” His features betrayed nothing. In fact if his jaw hadn’t relaxed she wouldn’t have thought he cared one way or the other. “I want you to tell me however, just how long this marriage is supposed to last in your eyes. Will it be until you get tired of me? In with the new, out with old wife sort of thing. There’s very little in this for you, since love isn’t a factor in our agreement. If it’s a physical relationship you want, a woman who’s there to warm your bed at your convenience, you can get that from anyone else. There are so many women who—”

  “Who what?” His very stance, arms folded, teeth gritted, dared her to continue. “I don’t need you to lie to me. Let’s not kid ourselves here. I’m not blind and if I were, those gasps alone would extinguish any misgivings I had about my appeal to the opposite sex if we want to be honest. As for how long, how about we take it one day at a time.”

  “What will I tell my father? It’s going to come as a shock to him.”

  “I can’t help you on that score. Just remind him that he’s not allowed within ten feet of my property unless he’s aching to find out what a cattle dog’s bite feels like.”

  Danika gasped. “You expect me to cut off contact with my father after we get married?”

  “I can’t stop you from seeing your da, but under no circumstances is he allowed on the Bar S. I assume part of this arrangement was so Prescott would have a roof over his head and not be slumming beneath a bridge near downtown Billings. I’m not a dictator, Danika. You can visit him wherever else you decide on, although we both know I don’t have a say in that now, do I?”

  She continued to gawk at him then slowly shook her head in disbelief. “You just put it out there, don’t you? For a man who’s just asked me to be his wife, you’re not trying very hard to be charming. Not even a sweet nothing, Brandon?”

  A flush of pink stained the top of his cheeks, visible above his beard. “You want me to say it in a sweeter tone that your father isn’t allowed over here?”

  “That’s not necessary. You’ve made your point clear. But since we’re on the topic of you issuing dictates, I’d love to know here and now if you’re going to try to boss me around. That’s something I definitely won’t stand for.”

  “You won’t have to worry about that with me. I don’t have any reason to bully women. Never have in m’entire life.”

  There it was again. She canted her head. She didn’t fight the lazy smile that flitted about her lips. He saw her smile and his pinkened cheeks burned with a fire truck shade of red. He shifted his head and cleared his throat.

  She clucked her tongue. “You’re blushing, Brandon. You really shouldn’t. I like your accent. Today is the first time, though, I’ve ever heard it so strong. Ireland, right?”

  He nodded slowly. “I thought so.” Danika exclaimed, glad that at least he was no longer scowling. “It seems there’s a lot we have to get to know about each other then. If we’re going to be married I want you to get used to sharing things with me.”

  A single firm nod was all he gave to indicate he had heard anything she had said. “Apart from Prescott, who else do you need to tell?”

  Girlish laughter bubbled from her throat. “Who else‌—‌as in if there’s a man out there I need to inform and break his little ol’ heart?” She shook her head and laughed even harder. “Seriously, Brandon. Now you’re concerned if I have a boyfriend or not. I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted by you.”

  “Do you?”

  “I’ll answer you if you answer me first. And please don’t jump down my throat again.”

  His brows arched, so did hers, showing him she was dead serious. “All right,” Brandon relented on a long-suffering sigh.

  “Are there any women I need to watch my back for? Yes, this is Hart’s Fall, middle of nowhere, Northwest. It’s quiet here and all, but I’m pretty much in the dark about your activities elsewhere, Irish.”

  His eyes flickered for the briefest moment before a look of boredom took over his features.

  “What I want to know is will I have to watch my back for any crazed-out chick coming after me, screaming that I stole her man?”

  “There aren’t any women.”

  “You promise?”

  “I swear it.”

  “Will it stay like that when we’re married? Even though it won’t be…”

  “Even though it won’t be what? A real marriage? I assure you, it’ll be real enough.”

  Her head shifted as she looked across the room for a fleeting moment. “ So…um, about your other question. No. I don’t have a boyfriend. There’s no one I’ll betray by marrying you. Also once we’re married, I want you to know I’ll be faithful to you. I’d like the same assurance from you that if you ever decide you’d rather be with someone else, or for whatever reason you no longer want to be with me, that I’ll have nothing but total honesty from you.”

  “There’s no need for such a promise. There’s nothing on earth that would make me change my mind about you being my wife.”

  Danika lifted a shoulder and held out her hands. “All righty then, Brandon Sharpe. Seems you’ve got yourself a wife.”

  Worth the Price

  I’m getting married. Danika blew out a shaky breath, still attempting to piece together everything that had occurred less than an hour ago. Not just about to be married at that, she was engaged to none other than Brandon Sharpe. The thought alone brought forth a muted groan.

  Brandon was a man her father disliked with a seething passio
n. Worse, he was the only man in Hart’s Fall she had taken an interest in, albeit a reluctant interest. It baffled her as to why he seemed to make it a point to appear sinister, always wearing that hat so low on his face and keeping the other half of his face hidden with that pelt of hair she was itching to take a razor to and see the full scope of his looks.

  If she was being honest with herself, despite Brandon’s big and mean appearance, she had to admit had it been anyone else who dared to suggest such an exchange, she would have hotfooted it right out and ended the conversation then and there.

  However, Brandon was different. The first time she’d cast eyes on him was two years ago after graduating from college. In that first week at home, she became familiar with the name Brandon Sharpe as a cuss word in their household. Curiosity eventually got the better of her, leading her to ask her father about the rancher who was spiking his blood pressure through the rooftop. Refusing to give her a straight-out answer, he’d mumbled something about Sharpe thinking he had gotten one over on him and it was just a matter of time before Sharpe would hightail it out Hart’s Fall. She hadn’t been inclined to press for details after seeing how much the simple act of discussing Brandon disgruntled her father.

  It hadn’t made an ounce of difference that she had never seen the mysterious rancher. Inside her head Danika had drawn up a mental picture of what this man had to look like. Foolishly, she had even romanticized him in her girlish fantasies. Tall, dark and handsome, with a smile wicked enough to make a girl go weak in the knees and fall onto her bed in a spell of breathless sighs.

  On the day she finally encountered him. He had efficiently razed all her silly fantasies to ashes. He was two out of the four images she had drawn up of him. Almost a foot taller than herself, he had sharp, angular, dark features, but handsome he was not. Perhaps at one point he had been, she told herself.

  Wearing a brown hat slung low over his face, he dwarfed everyone inside the feedlot store. She had known, almost on instinct, he was the infamous Brandon Sharpe. From where she stood outside at the corner of the store, Danika had peered inside, her face inches away from the window, aiming for a better view of him. Then all too soon, he had exited the store, forcing her to shrink against the brick wall of the building. Her back scraped along the rough ceramic all the while she had chastised herself for acting like a stalker.

  It hadn’t escaped her notice the way the other customers rubbernecked to watch him leave. She could almost hear the collective sighs of relief as the door swung shut. Moments later, she’d understood why. And it had nothing to do with the permanent scowl that was stitched onto the harsh line of his lips. His head lifted as if he had sensed her watching him and shifted dead on in her direction.

  She had to stifle a gasp at her first glance of the violent red gash that dug into his skin, tearing the right side of his face from the left. The scar looked as if it had been left to heal on its own, or stitched together by a drunken person with two left hands. She’d dug her fingers around the edge of the wall, fully aware that he had seen and heard her. So she had waited, expecting him to say something to her. He hadn’t disappointed.

  “Got something on your mind?” His lips were peeled back in a chilling scowl. Panic assailed her but Danika refused to let him see how terrified she was. “There’s no law against looking is there?”

  Her question had only served to deepen his scowl. She tried again and what came out of her mouth next, appalled and shamed her all the way to the core. “W-what happened to your face?” Of its own volition, she felt her hand rising to point at his face.

  “I was a nosy brat who asked too many questions. That’s what happened to my face.” He walked right past her.

  It was long after he was out of sight that her heartbeat returned to normal and the frantic pounding ceased. That same evening, she hadn’t said a word to her father about her run-in with Brandon although she couldn’t help but wonder what the cattle rancher would think if he knew who her father was.

  At the thought of her father, Danika was nudged back to the present and the matter at hand. She paused outside the door to his home office, unsure what she would say, if she would even tell him about her arrangement with Brandon. Then again, Frank Prescott was no fool. If she didn’t tell the truth, he would see right past any lies she tried to feed him of marrying Brandon for love.

  “Here goes nothing.” She stuck her head through the doorway. Her father was seated in his chair with his head tilted back. There were more strands of gray peppering his low-cut hair than Danika recalled over the previous months. A well of sadness and worry came over her as she observed him tapping a pen against the desk. Whatever was going on between him and Brandon, she knew there was no way his intentions were as horrible as Brandon presumed.

  After the death of her mother ten years ago, Frank Prescott had turned the devastation he felt into a profound energy that was focused on his work. She supposed his job as founder of Prescott Construction gave him more of a purpose now that her mother was no longer around. Aside from his dedication to his job, Frank was determined to make up for the lack of a mother’s presence by showering her with material gifts. She was aware of the meaning behind his gifts and she deeply regretted not putting a stop to it during those earlier years. Perhaps if she had, he wouldn’t have become so obsessed with his business ventures to the point of making enemies with Brandon, who was now to become a member of their family.

  She shied away from the door. It didn’t seem like the right time to bring up her engagement to Brandon. Two steps away from being in the clear and inside her room, she heard the sound of her father’s voice ring out, disapproval evident in his tone. “Danika!”

  She hesitated then returned to the office. Her father burst into speech. “Were you over at Sharpe’s ranch today?”

  Danika squared her shoulders to mask the shock. “I had a matter to discuss with Brandon.”

  “Brandon, is it? Since when are the two of you on such familiar terms? Did he invite you over to the Bar S?”

  She rolled her eyes. “He’s not the devil incarnate, Daddy. He’s just trying to run his ranch and make a living like everyone else around here.”

  “Then since you’re both such good friends, why don’t you tell Sharpe that no one wants him around. Let him find somewhere else in Montana to operate his cattle ranch.” His eyes raked over her and grew narrow with suspicion. “What business could you possibly have with Sharpe, anyway?”

  “It’s private.”

  “Private eh?” He shook his head and looked upward as if he was praying for an infusion of patience. “Dani, listen to me. I know you haven’t been out on a lot of dates like most girls your age. Part of it is my fault because of how overprotective I’ve been. You can’t fault me though. You’re my only child, so on this I need you to listen to me good. Sharpe is trouble, you hear me? I’d hate for you to let that snake sweet talk you into—”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” she snapped. It also went to show how little he knew of Brandon. From the conversation she had with him a while ago, Danika had the feeling Brandon didn’t have a clue about women, much less how to sweet talk.

  “Was he trying to get information out of you? Trying to find out my plans.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Listen to yourself. What information? What plans? He doesn’t care what you’re doing. It’s just like I told you that day you dragged me over to the Bar S with you, all Brandon wants is to be left in peace and not have you coming after him trying to take his land. It’s his property. You’re never going to own it so just let it go.”

  “It’s called business, girl. You don’t seem to get it. Where do you think all the money we have came from? If I allowed men like Sharpe to stand in my way, how far do you think I would have made it by now? How would I have supported you‌—‌put you through that private college? I didn’t have those opportunities growing up. Forgive me for wanting to make sure I have a legacy to leave my daughter and grandchildren.”


  “I know you mean well. You’re a wonderful father, but…” She let out a breath, preparing for the blow that was sure to come. “You’re speaking as if there’s something you can do. I didn’t want to say anything but I know what’s going on with the company. We barely have any money left. I’m not dumb. There won’t be any development, Dad. You have to be realistic.”

  “I see you’ve been sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  Danika gaped. “Have you taken a look at the bank account lately? We have enough to pay the remaining wages to the workers, but there’s nothing left for the other bills.”

  “How did you find out all of this? Better yet, have you told any of this to Sharpe or anyone else?”

  Her mind worked furiously, scouring for the right thing to say. She hadn’t expected him to ask so many questions, much less an outright interrogation.

  “Answer me. Does Sharpe know my business is going under?” His eyes bulged. They looked as if they were about pop out of their sockets.

  “I’ve confided in him.”

  “Now isn’t that something. Why on God’s green earth would my daughter need to confide in the man responsible for my company’s failure?”

  “Calm down, Daddy. Brandon is someone I trust. Whatever I tell him, he won’t—”

  ‘Won’t what? Exactly what is it that Sharpe has on you for you to be acting like his champion?”

  “I’m not defending anyone. All I’m saying is, we have more important things to be concerned about.”

  “Are you seeing him?” His hawk-like gaze sharpened on her. “You’re a sweet girl. I’m sure if any woman in this town could stomach to look at Sharpe for more than a minute it would be you. Is that what this is about? You’re dating him out of pity and now you feel you have to defend him against your own flesh and blood?”