The Rancher's Marriage Pact

by Kristi Gold

  He stacked his hands behind his head and sighed. “I didn’t intend to be here this long, but a pretty little lady decided to hold me hostage.”

  She playfully slapped at his arm. “I didn’t hold you hostage, Dallas. You were free to go at any point in time.”

  “Let me rephrase that. You made me a prisoner with your good loving.”

  She remained quiet for a moment before asking, “What’s going to happen after we’re back at the ranch?”

  “Business as usual.”

  “I meant with us. Do I sleep in the guest room or in your room?”

  He hadn’t given that much thought, but he didn’t like not having her in his bed. “We should probably give the appearance of the happily married newlyweds.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. “Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this happy. It’s been a wonderful week.”

  Uh-oh. If she got stars in her eyes, that could spell trouble. “It’s been great, but it’s not reality. You and I both know this arrangement comes to an end in a year.”

  She rose up and stared at him. “You don’t have to remind me of that. But if I’m going to be stuck in this pretense, I don’t see any reason why we can’t enjoy each other’s company, unless you decide that once we leave here, the party’s over.”

  He saw a major reason why they shouldn’t enjoy it too much. “I still want to be with you, just as long as you know I’m not looking for anything permanent.”

  The comment sent her out of the bed to grab her robe and slide it on before she faced him. “Of course it’s not permanent, Dallas. If I learned anything about you at all since we met, it’s that for some reason you run from emotional commitment.”

  That made him sound like a coward. “Look, I’m not running from anything. I just know who I am, darlin’, and if you expect too much, I’ll break your heart.”

  She tightened the sash and pushed her hair away from her face. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m much tougher than you think.”

  Spinning around, Paris headed into the bathroom and shut the door a little harder than necessary. Dallas remained in the same spot, pondering her words. Maybe in some ways she’d been right. Maybe he had been running away. But one thing he’d learned in life—aside from most of his immediate family, people never stayed around for very long, if not physically, then emotionally. He recalled the loneliness following his mother’s death. He’d witnessed both Maria’s and Jen’s devastation when they’d learned of his dad’s betrayal. He wasn’t going to put himself out there to be hung up to dry.

  He’d been a loner much of his life, and he liked it that way. Even a special woman like Paris couldn’t change his mind.

  * * *

  Little by little, everything had begun to change over the past few days. Even though Paris had opted to stay in his suite, he hadn’t touched her. She’d gone to bed before him, and he’d started getting up before her. No more predawn lovemaking. No more joking around. In fact, he’d barely spoken to her aside from general conversation over meals. When she’d asked Dallas if something was wrong, he’d only said he’d been busy playing catch-up. It seemed as if everything they’d shared at the cabin had all been a dream. Today she planned to get to the bottom of his sudden turnaround.

  After a futile search for him in the barn, Paris hopped into her new black luxury sedan—a wedding gift from her new husband—then drove to the main office and marched in, bent on seeking him out. “Is Dallas here?”

  Jenny patted her big hair and smiled. “No, sugar, he’s not here. He left for the house about a half hour ago. I believe he’s in the media room.”

  Oh, for heavens sake. She should have checked there first. “Are you sure?”

  “That’s what he told me when I put your dinner in the oven. I made a nice vegetarian lasagna. It should be ready in ten minutes or so and you’ll find a salad in the fridge.”

  Eating alone didn’t exactly appeal to her. “Thanks, but I need to talk to Dallas before I even think about dinner.”

  Jenny took on a concerned look. “Is something wrong, sugar?”

  “No.” She reconsidered when she realized the stepmom could be a solid sounding board. “Actually, yes. Since we returned from the cabin, he’s been rather aloof.”

  “Oh, that. I’m not surprised.”

  Clearly everyone else in the Calloway family held the key to Dallas’s mood. “Could you let me in on the secret?”

  “I will gladly fill you in, since my stepson isn’t one to talk about his feelings.”

  Paris knew that all too well. “Go ahead. I’m all ears.”

  “First of all, his mother died on April second, which happens to be tomorrow. Coincidentally, J.D. died April third. According to Maria, and I’ve seen it myself since I’ve been here, Dallas goes into this funk. Give him a week or so and he’ll come back around.”

  Most of that made sense, but she believed there could be more. She also found it hard to believe he would do a one-eighty when it came to their floundering personal relationship. “Maybe it’s time someone encourages him to get in touch with his feelings.”

  “Be careful, Paris,” Jenny cautioned. “If you push too hard, he’ll only withdraw more.”

  Not if she could help it. “I’ll approach the issue slowly. Thanks for telling me.”

  “You’re welcome, sugar, and good luck. By the way, you never said if you enjoyed your honeymoon.”

  She had been intentionally guarded in what she’d revealed for fear Jenny would read too much into it. Regardless, the honeymoon phase was basically over before it had really begun. “We had a very nice time. I’ll see you later.”

  Paris rushed out of the office before Jenny began requesting details. After she made it back to the house, she hurried up the stairs and headed to the cowboy cave, only to find the door closed. She considered knocking but since he might not answer, she decided to walk right in.

  Dallas looked surprised to see her, but she happened to be more surprised to see him seated at a round table, a slew of photographs spread out before him.

  “I thought I might find you here,” she said as she pulled out a chair. “What are those, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  He slid a picture of a brown-haired, blue-eyed young woman holding a toddler, a black horse grazing beside them. “That’s my mom, Carol.”

  The first time she’d heard him mention his mother’s name. “And you?”

  “Yeah and her mare, Kenya.”

  “She’s beautiful. Your mom, not the horse, although the horse is pretty, too. You definitely have her eyes. Your mom’s eyes, not the horse.”

  Finally she’d unearthed his smile but it faded fast. “That’s the horse that killed her.”

  Paris swallowed around her shock. “How did that happen?”

  He leaned back in the chair and streaked a hand over his jaw. “She was training her for speed events. Kenya spooked one day and threw her into a barrel. She sustained a serious head injury and died two days later.”

  The pain in his voice was palpable. “Do you remember any of that?”

  “No. I just recall she was there one day and not the next. I didn’t find out what happened until I asked my dad when I turned thirteen. Of course, he didn’t want to talk about it so Maria told me.”

  Thank heavens he’d been spared the details when he’d been too young to understand. She leaned over and picked up a photo of a twentysomething, tall, handsome man with a single prominent dimple. The resemblance to Dallas was almost uncanny. “I assume this is your father.”

  “The one and only. That was taken right after he married Maria.”

  She’d always wanted to know how that had come about, and now she had her chance. “When and how did they meet?”

  “He hired her as our nanny after my
mom died. Next thing I knew, they married a few months later. Then came Houston and Tyler.”

  “No doubt about it, your dad didn’t waste any time.”

  “No. He just wasted the truth.”

  Paris wished he could find a way to heal, and she could find a way to help. “Don’t waste your life being bitter, Dallas. I had to tell myself if I let my anger toward Peter continue to rule my life, I would lose and he would win.”

  He nailed her with a stern look. “Maybe I’m not the eternal optimist, like you.”

  “Then it seems to me you’re very much like Fort.”

  He mulled that over for a moment, as if he’d never considered that notion, before the ire returned. “I’m nothing like him. I didn’t abandon the entire family due to the sins of the father.”

  She might as well beat her forehead against the table. “No, but you might be abandoning your happiness by keeping yourself closed off to it. And shutting me out isn’t going to make me go away, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  He failed to look at her. “I’m not shutting you out.”

  “Oh, really? I don’t remember the last time you kissed me, much less touched me. I wake up in the middle of the night and you’re on the edge of the bed as if you can’t stand to be near me. If you find it so appalling to sleep with me, just let me know. I’ll be glad to move to a guest room.”

  “I don’t find you appalling, dammit. It’s just that—”

  “What?”

  “I never wanted to hurt you, Paris, but it sure looks like I’m doing that now. I’m worried maybe you have expectations I can’t meet.”

  Feeling a bit more benevolent, she laid a palm on his arm. “You can’t hurt me unless I allow it, and I’m not going to do that. And I don’t expect anything from you that you can’t give. I’m a big girl and I know what I agreed to when I married you. But I would like better communication between us.”

  “I’m not real good at that and I’m not sure I can change.”

  With a retort on the tip of her tongue, Paris suddenly remembered she hadn’t removed the food from the oven. “Dinner should be ready by now. We can continue this conversation while we eat.”

  “I’m not hungry,” he said. “You go ahead. I’ll grab something later.”

  Paris’s frustration began to mount. “I don’t deserve this, Dallas.”

  He shuffled through the pictures to avoid her gaze. “Deserve what?”

  “Your disregard. I’m trying to be your friend but you’re making it pretty darned difficult.”

  “Don’t need a friend,” he said. “I need to be left alone.”

  She shoved back from the table and stood. “Sure you do. That’s the way you operate, isn’t it? Always the tough guy. But let me tell you something, Dallas Calloway. A future with the prospect of happiness is a terrible thing to squander, and you’re the one who’s afraid of getting hurt, not me.”

  Without awaiting his response, she rushed out the door and slammed it behind her. She despised the overwhelming disappointment. Hated that she couldn’t reach him and probably never would. Most important, she detested the emotions welling inside her. She couldn’t save him from himself and for some reason that made her so sad.

  Somehow, someway, she had come perilously close to falling in love with the wounded cowboy, or at least the one she’d known while they were away. If she let the cycle complete, she would most surely collide head-on with devastation.

  To prevent that from happening, and for self-protection, she would let Dallas continue to brood, and in the meantime, she would get out of his bed. But as far as their arrangement went, she vowed to see it through. No matter how hard he might try to drive her away, she wasn’t going to budge until she saw the arrangement through.

  * * *

  When he retired at midnight, Dallas found nothing but a deserted room and an empty bed. He also discovered all her clothes were gone, and the toiletries, too. Not one sign that Paris had ever been in his life.

  Unexpected panic set in and sent him to the garage first, where he found the Mercedes parked next to the truck. That didn’t mean she hadn’t abandoned the car and found another way to leave him.

  He wouldn’t blame her if she’d left. He’d been a moody bastard and he’d pushed her away. He couldn’t stand the thought of her taking off without telling him goodbye. Taking off at all.

  He took the stairs two at a time, flipped on the hallway lights and started opening doors to the additional rooms. By the time he reached the final one at the end of the corridor, he’d all but given up...until he found her in the black sleigh bed wearing a pink nightshirt, a pillow propped behind her back, her legs crossed before her and a computer in her lap.

  “Mind if I come in?”

  “Depends on why you’re here,” she said without taking her attention from the laptop.

  “I’m here to talk.”

  Finally she looked up. “Wow. That’s new and different. Are you ill?”

  Sick over hurting her feelings. He perched on the edge of the mattress near the footboard and sighed. “First, I want to say I’m sorry. You’re right, I haven’t been treating you well and it’s not fair. My problems aren’t your fault.”

  “Apology accepted. Go on.”

  “Secondly, I suck at being a boyfriend.”

  That made her laugh. “In case you’ve forgotten, we kind of skipped the boyfriend-girlfriend stage and went right to the marriage. Besides, I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend when I entered into this mess.”

  The “mess” thing didn’t bode well for him. “Okay, I suck at relationships. And I didn’t come looking for you, either. But here you are, and honestly, it does scare me.”

  She closed the computer and set it aside. “Why?”

  Now for the admission he didn’t count on making. “Because I do care about you, Paris. I don’t think I realized how much until I thought you’d left.”

  “I promised you I’d stay until the bitter end.”

  “And I promised you an annulment.”

  “As I’ve previously stated, that was due to faulty research and an unreasonable timeline.”

  “Do you regret marrying me?”

  She paused for a few seconds. “I regret that more couldn’t exist between us aside from you keeping the ranch and me alleviating my debt. But hey, I’m a realist. This is a unique situation. I don’t regret our time at the cabin, even if it was only temporary and apparently over.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  She frowned. “All signs point to the contrary, Dallas. I refuse to make love to a man who won’t give me the time of day.”

  “What if I try to do better?” He drew in a breath and released it slowly. “What if I told you I want to see where this thing goes between us in the next year?”

  He green eyes widened. “Do you mean exploring the possibility of making it permanent?”

  “Yeah. There’s no guarantee it will work, but I’d like to try. It would require starting over, since we put the cart before the horse.”

  “You mean like dating?”

  “I guess you could call it that. I want to take you out to dinner and maybe go see a movie or two. I definitely want to teach you how to ride if you’re going to be a rancher’s wife.”

  She held up her hands, palms forward. “Wait a minute. I’m still trying to digest the whole dating thing.”

  So was he. “Okay. I’ll slow down. But just so you know, I’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than six months. Maybe that’s because I don’t know what it takes.”

  Paris unfolded her legs, draped them over the bed and scooted next to him. “My mother always said that when you evaluate who you’re going to have as a life partner, you have to ask yourself, Will they make me a better person?”

 
Solid advice. “I believe that could be true when it comes to you making me a better man. You’d probably be getting the short end of the stick with me.”

  She hooked her arm through his and kissed his cheek. “I think we could make each other better.”

  For the first time in two weeks, he felt optimistic and not quite as afraid of making her life miserable. “As long as we both can trust each other.”

  “We can do that.”

  “Can we still have sex while we’re dating?”

  That earned him a mild punch in the biceps and her smile. “Is that all you men think about?”

  “Pretty much.”

  She released an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, all right. I suppose we can tango between the sheets now and then.”

  He came to his feet, ready for the dance to begin. “Let’s get back to our bedroom, wife.”

  She stood, grabbed the nightshirt’s hem and pulled it over her head. “We have a perfectly good bed here, husband, so let’s mix it up.”

  Up would be the operative word when she slid her panties down and tossed them onto the nearby chair. “You won’t catch me arguing with a naked woman.”

  Dallas undressed in a rush, took her down on the bed, kissed her thoroughly and then sent his lips and hands on a mission over her body. She responded strongly to his touch and climaxed quickly beneath his mouth. He realized he didn’t have a condom, but this time he didn’t care. He trusted Paris completely, not to mention he’d seen her birth control pills.

  When he started to move over her, Paris said, “Not this time,” before nudging him onto his back. “I want to play cowgirl.”

  Damned if she wasn’t full of surprises. “Lady, ride away. I just hope this lasts longer than eight seconds.”

  It took all his strength to hold back the orgasm when she climbed on top and guided him inside her. Having no barriers between them only increased the sensations, and he realized he’d never had sex without protection, a lesson that had been drilled into his brain by his dad. The wait had been worth it. But it also happened to be playing hell with his control, and no matter how hard he tried to hold back the tide, the dam broke all too soon.