But it wasn’t just the incredible lovemaking with Solange that had him rethinking his views on the institution of marriage. It was the whole enticing package. The companionship and laughter, the sense of completion, the promise of unconditional love and support. In the short time he’d known Solange, she’d given him a rare glimpse of what the future could bring, the endless possibilities. It was enough to whet his appetite for more.
Noah’s deep, amused voice pulled him back to the present. “I take it by the goofy grin you’re still wearing that you and Miss Washington had a good time last night.”
Dane nodded slowly. “Yeah. We did.” That was an understatement if he’d ever heard one.
“Glad to hear it.” Noah chuckled dryly. “Kenny was half convinced Crandall would greet you at the front door with the barrel of his hunting rifle pointed right between your eyes.”
Dane gave a short, grim laugh. “I’m sure the thought crossed his mind more than once. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight for most of the evening, and he made a point of seating me at the opposite end of the dinner table. Have you seen that damned table? He might as well have banished me to a foreign country—that’s how far I was sitting from Solange.”
“I guess the old man really means business.”
Dane scowled. “Yeah, well, so do I.”
“I know.” Noah was watching him closely, a knowing smile playing about the corners of his mouth. “I can tell.”
Afraid he’d revealed too much, Dane sat forward in his chair, cleared his throat briskly and reached for the report he’d been working on before his cousin interrupted. “I’m meeting with a client in an hour. Gotta get this paperwork done before then.”
“Sure, no problem. We can talk later.” Noah straightened from the doorjamb and turned to leave, then paused, glancing over his shoulder at Dane. “Remember last week when I told you that you can run, but you can’t hide forever?”
Dane hesitated, then nodded.
A slow, satisfied grin curved Noah’s mouth. “I didn’t realize at the time how soon I’d get to say, ‘I told you so.’”
Dane watched him leave, then whispered under his breath, “You and me both.”
When Crandall summoned Solange to his library the next morning, she fully expected to receive an earful about staying out late with Dane, although Daniela had covered for her last night, telling Crandall that Solange had retired to her room to take a long-distance phone call from a friend.
She was immensely relieved when Crandall, instead of lecturing her about her midnight rendezvous, asked her to set him up for a scheduled videoconference with his board of directors that morning, then informed her she would be taking minutes in lieu of his secretary, who was on vacation.
As Solange went about the task of setting up the videoconferencing equipment, which she’d routinely done at her old law firm, Crandall openly appraised her blue cashmere sweater, pleated charcoal trousers and ankle-high Prada boots.
“That outfit is quite flattering on you,” he announced after a moment. “You and Daniela did very well yesterday.”
“Thank you, Mr. Thorne,” Solange murmured. “I’m glad you approve.”
When the meeting ended two hours later, at eleven, Crandall surprised her by saying, “Let’s go for a walk before lunch. I need to get my daily exercise.”
They left the house and started off down the gravel path that wound past more barns, outbuildings and a large roping arena that, according to Crandall, had been a beehive of activity just a few months earlier during branding season at the ranch. Now the land lay quiet, serene, with cattle and horses grazing peacefully in the vast fields under a gray winter sky.
“Do you like it here, Solange?” Crandall asked.
“Yes, very much. Everything is absolutely beautiful.”
Crandall nodded, his dark eyes shining with pride as he surveyed his surroundings. “I bought the ranch as an investment property almost twenty-five years ago. Although law has always been my first love, I’ve always wanted to own and operate a cattle ranch. There’s something so natural, so purposeful, about the life of a rancher. Waking up to the scent of freshly mown hay every morning as the sun rises over the mountains, roping, branding and driving a herd of cattle, fixing fences and checking pastures, soaking up the warm sun and fresh air as you and your horse race across the valley after a long, hard day’s work. There’s nothing like it, I tell you. And when I first saw this place, I imagined my grandchildren and great-grandchildren frolicking and chasing one another up and down these hills—God’s playground.”
Solange smiled. She didn’t realize her boss could be so poetic. “I’m sure Caleb Junior will appreciate being the first to enjoy the land.”
“Ahh, yes. And I hope he’ll be the first of many grandchildren my son and Daniela give me.”
Solange chuckled, adjusting her stride a little to accommodate Crandall’s slower, more measured pace. They walked for a few minutes in companionable silence.
It didn’t last.
“Did you enjoy yourself last night, Solange?” Crandall casually inquired. “You disappeared before I had a chance to ask you.”
Automatically her stomach clenched. Uh-oh, she thought. Here it comes.
“I had a wonderful time,” she answered truthfully. “I’ve never been to a real dinner party before, so I was a little nervous at first.”
“No one could tell. You seemed very relaxed and in your element.” Crandall gave her a bemused sidelong look. “The only time you seemed tense was whenever Dane Roarke was in the vicinity. May I be frank with you?”
As if he ever needed anyone’s permission to speak his mind!
Nonetheless, Solange nodded her consent for him to continue.
“You may not think it’s my place to advise you on your love life, but as you are an employee and a member of my household, I consider it my responsibility to look after your welfare and share my concerns with you.”
“All right,” Solange said evenly. “What about Dane concerns you?”
Crandall slowed to a stop, turning to face her. He was a tall man, almost as tall as his son and Dane, so once again she found herself tilting her head back to meet his solemn gaze.
“Let me preface my warning by admitting to you how much I actually like and respect Roarke. He’s brash, tough, smart as a whip, a hard worker and he has little tolerance for pretentiousness. I watched him interacting with my guests last night, and he can command the attention of an entire room with little or no effort on his part. That’s a quality not many people possess. Truth be told, Solange, he reminds me a lot of myself at that age—and therein lies the problem.”
“I don’t understand,” she murmured.
Crandall’s lips flattened into a grim line. “I was a lousy husband, and up until a few years ago, not much better as a father. I was incredibly selfish, and I put my career ahead of my family until it was too late.”
Recalling the painful story from his past Dane had shared with her last night, Solange frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Dane. He walked away from a career he loved when his integrity was wrongfully called into question.”
“And that decision will haunt him for the rest of his life, rendering him incapable of completely giving himself to anyone who makes the mistake of falling in love with him,” Crandall said emphatically. “Not only is he damaged goods, but he’s a heartbreaker. Oh, I don’t think he sets out intentionally to hurt the women he gets involved with, but he just can’t seem to help himself. Roarke has a restless spirit, Solange, and while there are some men who can eventually be tamed into settling down with one woman, he isn’t one of them. He loves the thrill of the chase, but once it’s over, so is the affair.”
Solange was surprised to feel emotion clogging her throat. Nothing Crandall was telling her came as a shock to her. She’d had the same misgivings about Dane from the very beginning, and even as recently as last night had decided not to pursue a relationship with him.
That is, until h
e’d taken her for a drive.
After the intimate things he’d shared with her and the way they’d connected—both physically and emotionally—all bets were off. What she’d experienced with Dane in the past week was unlike anything she’d ever known with Lamar in the three years they’d been together. Not only was Dane the perfect lover—intensely passionate and unselfish—but he was strong, caring and generous, and he made her feel fiercely protected. She enjoyed being with him, more than she could have ever imagined.
She knew the tremendous risk she was taking in getting involved with him, but she’d decided to take it anyway. If Dane broke her heart, she had no one to blame but herself.
Besides, what if Crandall is wrong about him? an inner voice challenged. What if he has other motives for trying to keep the two of you apart? What if he simply doesn’t like Dane?
As if he’d intercepted her thoughts, Crandall gave her a pitying look. “I think you know, deep down inside, that what I’m sharing with you is the truth. But, as I always told Caleb when he was growing up, I can’t live your life for you. You have to decide what’s best for you, because ultimately, you’re the one who has to live with the consequences of that decision—good or bad.”
“I agree,” Solange said mildly. “But I thank you for caring enough to share your concerns with me. Your honesty is appreciated.”
He looked at her, his lips curved in a faintly mocking smile. “I may be getting old, Miss Washington, but I’m not dumb or deaf. I know when I’ve just been politely told to go to hell.”
Solange said nothing. Their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills.
After another moment, Crandall let out a short bark of laughter, startling her. “You’ve got spunk, young lady,” he said, shaking his head. “I may not agree with your taste in boyfriends, but I’ve gotta hand it to you. You don’t back down from a fight.”
Solange grinned. “And just for the record, I would never tell any employer of mine to go to hell.”
“Oh, is that right?”
Her grin turned impish. “Not to his face, anyway.”
Crandall threw back his head and roared with laughter.
When they got back to the house, Rita met them at the door as if she’d been awaiting their return. “You have a visitor,” she told Solange with an odd, anxious expression.
“Me?” Solange asked in surprise. “Who is it?”
When Rita wavered for a moment, Crandall scowled. “Well? Who is it, woman?”
Before Rita could respond, Solange’s gaze swept beyond her shoulder and came to rest on the handsome, uniformed man who’d appeared silently in the foyer.
Her eyes widened. She went limp with shock. “Lamar?”
“Hello, Solange.” He offered a small, tentative smile. “Surprise.”
“Man, you sure weren’t lying about this place being so far away,” exclaimed fifteen-year-old Jacob Tarrant, his face pressed to the passenger-side window of Dane’s Durango as it hurtled up the rocky hill toward Crandall Thorne’s ranch. “We’re out here in the middle of nowhere!”
Dane chuckled, slanting an amused glance at the teenager. “We definitely need to get you out of the city more often, kid. You were born and raised in Texas. How is it you’ve never seen a real horse before?”
Jake turned, giving him a look that said the answer should be obvious. “Ain’t no horses in the middle of the East Side!”
“Really?” Dane feigned a look of exaggerated disbelief. “I could have sworn I saw one in your neighbor’s backyard the other day.”
Jake cracked up. “That wasn’t a horse. That was mean ol’ Mr. Wallace!”
Dane didn’t laugh. “Now, Jacob,” he said in his gravest I’m-disappointed-in-you tone, “what have your mother and I taught you about respecting your elders?”
The boy faltered, the dimpled grin fading from his smooth, chocolate-brown face. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Dane could hardly keep a straight face. “That’s all right. I know you didn’t mean to imply that Mr. Wallace looks like a horse.” He paused a beat. “Even if it’s true.”
Jake’s uproarious laughter filled the interior of the truck, drawing an answering chuckle from Dane. It was good to hear the kid laugh again, he thought. He hadn’t been the same since his mother was diagnosed with breast cancer eight months ago. Although the cancer had been caught on time and she was now in remission, the stress of her illness, chemotherapy treatments and the growing stack of medical bills, along with the scary realization that they’d nearly lost their mother, had taken a serious toll on Jake and his two younger siblings. Jake, whom Dane had met earlier that year through the Big Brothers Big Sisters program, started skipping school and neglecting his responsibilities at home. After bailing him out of trouble a third time, Dane got in the boy’s face and threatened to have him sent away to a military academy run by an old friend of his—a place that made Guantanamo Bay look like a tropical vacation destination.
The threat worked like a charm.
“Are you sure Mr. Thorne is gonna let me work in his stables?” Jake asked anxiously.
“Of course. I told you, kid, it’s already a done deal.” Last night at the dinner party, Dane had made a point of seeking out Wyome, the Native American foreman in charge of hiring all laborers at the ranch. After hearing about the bright, hardworking teenager who could use a part-time job to help support his struggling family and keep himself out of trouble, Wyome had instructed Dane to bring Jake to the ranch the following day so that Tomas could begin training him on how to clean the stables and take care of the horses. Jake had been thrilled at the opportunity to work on a real cattle ranch and couldn’t get dressed fast enough. His mother had been overcome with gratitude, while his younger brother and sister had groaned with envy until Dane promised to pick them up one afternoon during their two-week Christmas break and take them horseback riding at the ranch.
“This place is off the chain.” Jake breathed in awe as they approached the sprawling property. “Mr. Thorne must be seriously balling.”
Dane grinned at the slang terms. “Oh, he’s balling all right. The man is richer than King Midas.” And probably just as arrogant, he refrained from adding.
After getting Jake situated at the stable with Tomas, who gladly welcomed the extra help as well as the company of another boy his age, Dane accompanied Wyome to the main house for a cup of coffee while he filled out some paperwork.
He was unprepared for the sight that greeted him when they entered the living room.
Seated next to Solange on the sofa was an attractive, clean-shaven man in full dress uniform, the silver oak-leaf cluster on his shoulder identifying his rank as a lieutenant colonel. He was carrying on an animated conversation with Crandall, who sat in an adjacent armchair while Rita, a courteous smile pasted onto her face, occupied a corner of the chintz-covered love seat.
It was a wonder Dane processed any of those minute details when a red haze was slowly settling over his brain. Who the hell was this chump? And, more to the point, why was his hand resting possessively on Solange’s knee?
When Crandall glanced up and met his gaze, there was no mistaking the malicious gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “Ah, Mr. Roarke,” he said smoothly, standing. “You’re just in time to meet our special guest.”
There was a sudden flurry of movement as both Solange and Rita lunged to their feet and chorused awkward greetings to him, while the stranger rose more slowly. With his eyes locked on Solange, Dane watched the play of emotions that flitted across her face—embarrassment, annoyance, regret and guilt, the latter of which alarmed him the most.
What did she feel guilty about? Had she done something to feel guilty about?
In a voice like oiled silk, Crandall said, “Dane Roarke, allow me to introduce Lieutenant Colonel Lamar Rogers—Solange’s fiancé.”
Solange flushed, seeing the flash of shocked fury in Dane’s eyes. “For the last time, Mr. Thorne, we’re not engaged,” she said with forced patience.
>
Lamar looked down at her with a proprietary little smile that set Dane’s back teeth on edge. “Not yet, anyway.”
She frowned. “Lamar—”
Ignoring her, he stepped forward to shake Dane’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Dane.”
Dane arranged the muscles in his face into a polite smile. “Same here,” he said coolly, resisting the savage urge to crush the other man’s smaller hand.
“Lamar was in San Antonio attending the promotion ceremony of a fellow officer,” Crandall took the liberty of explaining. “Afterward he drove all the way out here to see Solange and take her out to lunch. I was just telling him that he’s more than welcome to stay at the ranch until he returns home in a few days.”
“And I was just taking him up on his generous offer.” The two men exchanged meaningful smiles, like a pair of coconspirators.
Dane’s gut clenched on a fresh wave of fury. He searched Solange’s eyes, but this time her impassive expression gave nothing away.
Lamar eyed Dane curiously. “And how are you acquainted with my Solange?”
In more ways than you can ever imagine. And she’s not yours, you smug bastard. She’s mine!
Crandall interjected, “Dane works at a private-investigation firm owned by my daughter-in-law and her brothers.” His lips curved in a mocking smile. “I made the mistake of allowing him to run the routine background check on Solange when I hired her, and I haven’t been able to get rid of him since.”
Lamar laughed, the sound loud and forced. “I’m not surprised. Solange has that effect on members of the opposite sex. Always has.” He curved a possessive arm around her waist, drawing her closer to his side as he smiled into her eyes, which were almost at the same level as his. “I’m so lucky she gave me the time of day when we met at the county fair four years ago. I was wearing this very same uniform. Do you remember, sweetheart? You said I looked like a hero returning home from war.”
And speaking of war, Dane thought darkly, if Lamar Rogers didn’t get his damned hand off Solange in the next ten seconds, there was going to be some serious carnage in Thorne’s expensively furnished living room.
A Risky Affair Page 21
