by Day Leclaire
But that didn’t stop her from dreaming. Dreaming of a life that had Joc smiling at her the way he had right before he’d taken her in his arms. It didn’t stop her from dreaming of holding a baby in her arms, his tiny head thick with hair as black as his father’s and eyes the same rich ebony. To have a home that didn’t echo with painful memories, but one filled with the laughter and joy of a husband and children. To have the legacy continue. To watch the roots she’d sunk deep in Texan soil grow and expand and shoot toward the sun with endless branches peopled with endless future generations.
Picking up her hat, she dropped it on her head at an angle that had the brim covering her face. Then, leaning back against the plush seat, she allowed the tears to come.
Joc crossed to his limo and climbed into the back, forcing himself not to watch as the car carrying Rosalyn swept off the tarmac and headed away from Dallas toward her ranch. What the hell was wrong with him? He should be grateful to have her out of his life. He didn’t need the complications she wrought. And he certainly didn’t need the possibility of her carrying his child.
But that didn’t stop him from imagining. Imagining a life that had Rosalyn smiling up at him in bed. It didn’t stop him from imagining a baby in his arms, her tiny head thick with hair as red as her mother’s. To finally know a home of joy and laughter…his wife and children eager to greet him each night. To have the legacy that had always been beyond his reach.
He’d been denied that possibility his entire life. And he’d convinced himself he didn’t want it. But now…The limo slowed as it approached Arnaud’s, the glass and chrome building stabbing skyward like a finger raised in defiance. Cold, haughty, a safe and remote citadel.
That’s what he wanted. Not a worn-down ranch run by a far too discerning redhead. He wanted power and control. But perhaps he’d find a way to have Rosalyn, too.
Rosalyn stood in the bathroom and read the directions to the home pregnancy test for the third time, determined not to make any mistakes. It appeared straightforward enough. Take the test and a few minutes later the little window would either give her a plus sign if her interlude with Joc three weeks ago had borne fruit, or a negative sign if she was just running unusually late. She followed the instructions to the letter and stood impatiently, her stomach in knots as she waited to learn her fate.
The uncertainty left her feeling like her life was spinning out of control. She longed for stability. For security. To not constantly be teetering on the knife’s edge of disaster. The past three weeks had been the most difficult of her life. There hadn’t been ten minutes straight over all those days where thoughts of Joc hadn’t slipped into her head and left her staring into space, gripped by a longing she couldn’t escape.
The small timer she’d set to warn her when the results of the pregnancy test were ready to be read gave off a strident ping. She picked up the plastic stick. A large plus sign showed in the window and she sagged against the sink. Dear God, she was pregnant. She should be horrified. She should be terrified. In a panic. Her brows drew together. Why wasn’t she in a panic?
Her hand stole across her abdomen. Her baby grew here, nestled deep within her womb. Hers and Joc’s. She wasn’t panicked, she realized, any more than she was horrified or terrified. Rather, wonder filled her. A child. Dear heaven, she’d been given a child. She’d been given the chance to have a family again. The tears came then, but to her amazement, she discovered they weren’t tears of despair or fear.
They were tears of gratitude.
“Rosalyn!” Claire’s shout echoed up the steps, filled with a rare alarm. “Get down here. Fast!”
Escaping the bathroom, Rosalyn pelted down the stairs. She hit the hallway outside the dining room and stumbled on the loose carpet runner, almost taking a nosedive into the sunken living room. The close call scared her, and she pressed a hand to her belly. Time to get that stupid thing tacked down. It wasn’t just her neck at risk anymore. She had a baby to consider now.
Claire joined her in the hallway. “What happened?” Rosalyn demanded. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“The barn,” Claire gasped. “The barn’s on fire.”
The next several hours were the worst in recent memory. Thanks to the fast reaction of her employees, they were able to save the horses stabled there. But they weren’t able to save the structure, despite a near heroic attempt. Exhausted, choking on smoke and covered with soot, they all grouped together in grim exhaustion. Her foreman pulled her to one side while Claire served cooling draughts of water and platters of sandwiches.
“I think you need to call someone.”
Exhaustion had her frowning in bewilderment. “What are you talking about? Call who?”
“When we lost those cows, I wrote it off as bad luck. Downed lines, it happens. Calves gone missing, questionable but not necessarily criminal activity. But there’s no question anymore, Rosalyn. That fire was set. Deliberate. Somebody’s sending you a message. I suggest you find out who and do something about it.”
She stared, stunned. “No. You must be mistaken.”
“There’s no mistake. The place reeked of gasoline.” The foreman wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, smearing a trail of soot across his forehead. “We’re lucky we saved the livestock. Next time we might not be so lucky.”
“Who would do such a thing?”
“Only one person I know who wants to get his hands on this place.”
She shook her head, refusing to believe it. “No. It couldn’t be Joc.”
Granted, he wanted her property. Even so, he’d never stoop to something like this. Not the man who’d held her in his arms and made love to her all through the night. That man wouldn’t treat her with such ruthless disregard. And he sure as hell wouldn’t put her in danger—or the child he knew she might be carrying.
But maybe he could help her find out who was responsible. “I’ll deal with it.”
“Soon?”
“Right now,” she promised.
She started toward her Jeep, only to realize that she’d parked it in its usual spot beneath the barn overhang. It stood amidst the smoldering ruins, gutted by the fire. That hurt almost as much as losing the barn. Her father had used that Jeep to teach her to drive. It had been a connection to him over the years, his memory with her each time she bumped and ground her way across Oakley land. Setting her jaw, she spun in her tracks and crossed to the pickup Duff used for his mail runs.
Time to face the man who’d turned her life upside down and who’d crept into her heart and mind and soul. A man she longed to have in her life for more than a single night. To find out if he were the man she remembered from Deseos…or the man who put business ahead of every other consideration.
Time to face the father of her baby.
Joc stood at the window of his office and stared out at the sprawling metropolis before him. Heat shimmered beyond the tinted glass, giving the air a heavy fluidness, as though he rested underwater rather than high above the earth.
Damn it! How was it possible that out of all the women he’d ever known, Rosalyn was the only one capable of tying him up in knots? Granted, she was beautiful. Dynamic, and then some. Opinionated. Bull-headed. Glorious. Radiant. And the most passionate of any woman he’d ever held in his arms. He’d never been so distracted by a woman—never allowed a woman to distract him. But this one…What was it about this one?
He couldn’t count the number of times he’d picked up the phone, intent on calling her, on demanding she come to him. Nor could he count the number of times he’d instructed his driver to take him out to the Oakley homestead, only to rescind the order an instant later. As if she, alone, weren’t distraction enough, a strong possibility existed that she carried his child. Otherwise, why hadn’t she called to tell him they were in the clear? If she was pregnant, there’d be only one resolution to the situation. Only one resolution he’d allow, regardless of Rosalyn’s opinion on the matter.
“Joc?”
He stiffened
at the sound of his assistant’s voice. Hell. He hadn’t even heard her enter, which told him how bad the problem had become. Gathering his self-control like a cloak, he turned to face her. “Yes, Maggie? What is it?”
“I was about to go to lunch when security called. They’re detaining a woman who’s insisting on seeing you immediately. I had them send her up. It’s…it’s Rosalyn Oakley.”
A hungry grin slashed across Joc’s face. “Thank you, Maggie. I’ll handle it. You can go to lunch.”
Red had returned. And this time he wouldn’t be so foolish as to let her go. Before the day ended, he’d have her back where she belonged. In his bed. He wanted her. She wanted him. What could be easier? They’d work through whatever peculiar chemical reaction had them panting after one another. Clearly it needed longer than a single night to excise from their systems. Now that he’d had time to consider the matter, he doubted anything short of a full-blown affair would be sufficient. And if there was a baby?
They’d find a way to deal with that, too.
The door into the office opened. And there she was in all her glory. She must have been in a hurry coming here because she hadn’t dressed for the occasion, as most women confronting a former lover would have. Not a scrap of makeup touched the porcelain surface of her face. He frowned. In fact, it looked like she’d fallen headfirst into a coal mine. Her hair escaped its customary knot, drifting untidily to her shoulders. Just as she had the first time they’d met, she’d dressed in utilitarian ranch gear, jeans and a plaid shirt. But she must have been in a serious hurry, since she’d snapped her shirt together wrong and her clothes were smudged with soot.
Soot!
“What happened?” he asked sharply.
She answered with typical bluntness, giving it to him straight. “My barn burned down.”
For most of his life Joc had been described as a brilliant tactician, a man who never allowed emotion to cloud his judgment. He’d always maintained impeccable control and timing. But in the space of two seconds flat Rosalyn Oakley managed to vanquish every ounce of his control and timing as his emotions streaked out of control.
He crossed the room in a half dozen swift steps and grasped her arms, sweeping her with an all-encompassing look. “Are you injured? Were you hurt?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. Tired. Dirty. But fine.”
“Your men? Your animals?”
“All safe.” She gazed up at him, her violet-blue eyes reflecting a worrying combination of anger and fear. “Someone burned it down, Joc. On purpose. And there’ve been other problems, as well. Cut fence lines. Cows taking sick. Calves gone missing. But it wasn’t until today that my foreman was certain that it was deliberate.”
He froze, suspicion crashing over him. Did she think he was involved? Was that why she’d approached him after three weeks of silence? “And you came here because…?”
She stiffened ever so slightly. “You said to contact you if I needed you. For anything. Were you just saying that, or did you mean it?”
“I meant it.”
Relief spread across her face and she swayed toward him before catching herself. Extracting herself from his hold, she paced across his office. The maneuver betrayed her, shouted her physical awareness of him, a fact that gave him an intense masculine satisfaction. It also roused the predator lurking within, filling him with the overwhelming urge to give chase.
She spun to face him. “You have no idea how difficult this is for me to say, and to you of all people. But I need your help.”
“You have it.”
Her chin trembled for a brief instant before she managed to firm it, anger coloring her words. “Could you find out who’s doing this so I can stop them?”
He clamped down on the surge of relief. “I need to ask you a question first.”
“Anything.”
“How do you know that I’m not behind the incidents?”
Her anger drained away, leaving her eyes huge in a face gone stark-white. He heard the hitch to her breath and saw alarm bleed the vitality from her. “Oh God, Joc,” she whispered. She took a swift step in his direction and lifted a hand in appeal. “Do you think I’m here because I suspect you?”
He was careful to keep his voice dispassionate. “Do you? After all, I showed you who and what I am when I took down my partners at Deseos.”
She dismissed that with a jerk of her shoulders. “You took down partners who were intent on stealing the island out from under you after you’d lent them a helping hand. I may not have known you for long, but it’s been long enough to learn that you don’t do business by burning barns or rustling cattle.”
It was the oddest thing. It felt as though he’d been captured in a moment frozen by time. He could see Rosalyn staring up at him with total and utter faith. It seemed as though he had endless moments to search her expression, to look inward and assess the strength and veracity of that level of trust. To know that it existed. That she didn’t have a single doubt about the honesty of his assertion. Just complete confidence and acceptance that his word was the absolute truth.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Sunlight poured over her, setting her hair on fire around a face as pale and beautiful and compassionate as an angel’s. “No one has ever trusted me.” The words were ripped from him. “I’ve had to prove my honor again and again. Prove that I’m not the crook my father was.”
A line formed between her brows. “I’m so sorry, Joc. That must have been difficult for you.”
“No. You don’t understand.” He tried again. “You didn’t demand proof that I wasn’t involved. You didn’t question my veracity. You accepted my word without a minute’s hesitation or doubt.”
“Oh.” She thought about that for a second, before asking gravely, “Shouldn’t I have?”
“Are you poking fun at me?” he asked in disbelief.
“Just a little bit.” She pinched two fingers together. “A very little bit. You’re sort of an easy target when it comes to that particular issue.”
“Give me a straight answer, Red. Do you trust me, or not?”
She didn’t hesitate this time, either. “Yes. I trust you.”
“Now I have an even more important question for you.” He decided to be as blunt as she’d been. “Are you pregnant?”
He knew the answer before she even opened her mouth, saw the mixture of wonder and nervousness that turned her eyes a brilliant shade of blue. “Yes, I’m pregnant. I found out right before the barn went up in flames.”
As much as she trusted him, he still found it difficult to return the favor. “Were you going to tell me? If the barn hadn’t burned, I mean?”
“Of course! This isn’t something I’d keep from you. I promised.”
There was no mistaking her sincerity. “Fair enough. I’ll arrange for a doctor’s visit as soon as we get to my place.”
She held up her hands and took a swift step backward. “Whoa. Slow down, Arnaud. What do you mean…when we get to your place?”
“Do I have to spell it out for you, Red?” He crossed the room to confront her. “You’re pregnant. Someone is destroying your property, and according to you it’s escalating. It’s not safe for you to stay at Longhorn.” He invaded her space. “And just to be clear? This isn’t open to negotiation.”
She opened her mouth to argue. One look at his expression had her closing it again. After stewing for a few seconds, she asked, “What about my employees and animals? If I’m not safe, they aren’t, either.”
“I’ll make arrangements to safeguard them all.”
She brightened at that. “If you’re going to safeguard my men and property, then there’s no reason I can’t return home.”
“Only one.”
“Which is?”
“I won’t allow it.”
Joc didn’t give her an opportunity to come up with a response. Instead he did what he’d longed to since she’d first walked into his office and took her in his arms. His mouth locked over hers, the fit ev
en more perfect than he remembered. She melted against him, as though their three-week separation had never been, responding with a fervent eagerness that made him wish they were back on Deseos with it’s tropical breezes and sultry nights. Where a bed was only steps away and they were guaranteed endless days and nights of privacy to take their embrace to the ultimate conclusion. Instead he accepted what he could get in the here and now, and submerged himself in her unstinting warmth.
He knew this woman on a visceral level, recognized her scent and touch and taste. Most of all, he recognized the generosity with which she responded to him. He’d been a fool to think that a single night would satisfy either of them. He’d never be satisfied with just that one encounter. Not one embrace. Not one kiss. Not one night of lovemaking. What had started as a business encounter had become something reckless and passionate and infinitely dangerous. The softest of moans escaped as she opened to him, welcoming him home. Her hands crept beneath his suit jacket and splayed across his back, tugging him close. She sank into his kiss, her body moving helplessly against his.
He forked his hands into her hair and tilted her head so he’d have better access to her mouth. Then he drank, giving, taking, on the bare edge of control, showing her without words how much he’d missed her. A hunger filled him, a craving far worse than anything he’d experienced with any other woman. He wanted her. Here. Now. Any way he could have her. And even that wouldn’t be enough. This craving was too intense to easily be sated. He might never have his fill of her or grow tired of having her in his arms.
She ended the kiss with unmistakable reluctance, snatching a final taste before pulling free. “That wasn’t fair,” she complained. She fought to bring some order to her hair and shirt. Glancing down, she groaned when she discovered that half her snaps had come undone. She fumbled to close them without much success. “And kissing me isn’t going to make me forget our earlier discussion. You still haven’t told me why I can’t return to Longhorn if you’re going to put safeguards in place. You can’t just say you won’t allow it and expect me to accept it.”
