The Millionaire and the Cowgirl

Samantha slammed the door of her pickup. Her jeans were tight and black, her shirt faded denim with the sleeves rolled to her elbows, as if she were ready for a fight. Her lips were compressed into a firm, determined line. Before Grant could walk out the back door, she stormed in, the screen door slapping shut behind her.

Kyle felt a smile stretch across his face, though he wished he could hide his amusement, because if looks could kill, he’d have dropped dead the second she swung her furious green gaze in his direction.

“Mornin’, Sam,” Grant drawled.

“Mornin’,” she offered.

“I was just leavin’.”

“Wait. I was gonna call you,” she said, laying a hand on Grant’s arm—so friendly and intimate it made Kyle’s teeth grate. “What do you want to do about Joker now that Kyle’s back?”

“I’ll move him in the next week or so. No hurry. By that time I assume he’ll walk docilely up the ramp into the trailer.”

Sam couldn’t help but grin, and Kyle felt an unwanted kick in his gut. How many times had she, a tomboy of seventeen, trained that smile on him?

“I guess that’s up to Kyle. He’s in charge now.” Her smile faded and was replaced by her original expression, the one plastered on her face as she’d marched grimly to the porch. Tiny white lines pinched the corners of her mouth, a deep furrow was wedged between her eyebrows and the skin over her cheekbones was stretched as taut as a hide ready for tanning as her gaze landed full force on Kyle again. Some of the starch seemed to leave her for a second before she said, “I just came by to pick up some of my things. Now that Kyle’s here, it doesn’t make much sense for me to hang around.”

She breezed past Grant.

“Samantha? Wait a minute. You’re not giving up on Joker, are you?”

“Maybe Kyle can handle him.”

“In his dreams,” Grant replied.

“No way.” Kyle lifted his hands. “I want nothing to do with that beast.”

She muttered something under her breath that had to do with spoiled brats and silver spoons.

“We had a deal,” Grant reminded her.

“Cancelled when Kate left the place to your brother.”

“Hey—this isn’t my fight,” Kyle proclaimed, and Sam pinned him with a look that all but called him a citified, useless, low-life coward.

“For the love of…” She clawed stiff fingers through hair that was pulled tightly away from her face. A few strands fell into her eyes. “Okay, okay,” she said to Grant. “I’ll handle Joker. It’ll take a couple of days, but then I’m outta here.”

“What’s wrong?” Grant glanced from Kyle to Sam. “Lovers’ spat?”

The color drained from her face. “I just have enough to do over at my place.”

“Fair enough.” Grant didn’t look like he completely bought her story, but he didn’t seem anxious to press the issue. “As long as I can pick up Joker before Clem James’s mare goes into heat.”

“No promises. I’ll do the best I can.”

“All I can ask.” Grant squared his hat on his head. “I’ve got to run into town for a part for my damned tractor. I’ll see ya around.” He slapped the side of the doorframe with a tanned hand as he sauntered out, then hesitated on the porch, the screen door propped open by one shoulder. “Oh, I meant to tell you, Kyle, Mom called this morning. Rebecca’s gone off on some toot about hiring a private investigator to look into the cause of Kate’s plane crash.”

“I thought it was all just an accident, faulty equipment or something.”

“Yeah, that was what everyone assumed, but you know our aunt. She doesn’t believe in letting sleeping dogs lie.”

Kyle felt a sensation akin to dread. Rebecca was the youngest daughter of Ben and Kate, and though she was technically his aunt, she was only a few years older than he. A mystery writer, Rebecca had earned her reputation of having a vivid, sometimes wild imagination. “So what does she think?”

“Who knows? If you ask me, she should quit working herself up over everything and settle down.”

“Oh, like you?”

Grant shot him an unreadable look. “Just don’t be surprised if she gives you a call. See ya around, Kyle. Sam.”

Samantha watched him leave and felt a moment’s hesitation. She was alone with Kyle. Again. Which was what she wanted. Or was it? As Grant drove away, she was suddenly aware that the air in the house seemed thicker, dense with silent emotions, and she had trouble drawing a breath. Being this close to a man who had once had the ability to break her heart was just plain stupid.

“For the life of me I can’t figure out why Kate left this place to you,” she said, untying the knots that suddenly took hold of her tongue. “Grant or Rocky—”

“I know, I know. You’ve already pointed out that nearly anyone in the family would have been a better choice.”

She angled her chin upward and met his eyes. “I think so, yes.”

“Even Allison?”

Her lips twitched at the mention of Kyle’s beautiful and sophisticated cousin, Rocky’s twin, a woman who was meant for the glitter and fast pace of the city.

“Even Kristina.”

“Not Kris!” he teased.

“Absolutely! Your sister might be spoiled, but at least she knows what she wants in life!” Sam had never been one to keep her opinions to herself, especially not with Kyle. “I think your grandmother was out of her mind when she left this place to you.”

“I couldn’t have guessed.”

Damn his sexy drawl and drop-dead grin. “You know what else?” she asked.

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me whether I want to know or not, so let’s hear it.” His crooked smile stretched across his jaw and she had the urge to slap him. He was goading her, whether he knew it or not. Well, he’d asked for it. She would gladly give it to him with both barrels.

“You’re not gonna make it six months, Kyle. You’re gonna turn tail and run before your stint here is through. You’ve never suffered through a winter here, have you? Sometimes the electricity gives out, and if you can’t get the generator going you have to rely on firewood for warmth. You have to break a trail through hip-deep snow to the stables, melt water for the stock and live on oatmeal, canned beans, potatoes and apples that you’ve hopefully had the brains to keep in a fruit cellar. There’s no TV, no radio except for a transistor if your batteries aren’t low and no four-wheel drive big enough to get through to you. It’s just you and your wits, tryin’ to survive against Mother Nature, and in your case I’ll bet she’d win hands down!”

“How much?”

“What?”

“How much are you willing to bet?” he asked, his eyes suddenly dangerous. He crossed the short distance between them and glared at her with an expression as stormy as a winter thundercloud. Hot breath fanned her face.

“I don’t need to put up a wager, because you’re already gonna lose. You’re not going to inherit this place because you, Kyle Fortune, never could stick with anything long enough to see it through. That’s why Kate attached strings to her bequest, and it’s a good thing she’s dead because you would disappoint that old lady the day the going got rough and you decided to take off.” She glared up at him, challenging him, and he saw it then—a shadow crossing her eyes, a tremble in the pinched corners of her mouth, an emotion she was trying desperately to hide.

“Is that what you came over here to tell me?”

“I just came for my things.” She started for the den, but he grabbed her arm, his fingers tightening over the crook of her elbow.

“I don’t think so.”

“Let go of me, Kyle.”

“There’s something more, Sam. Something that’s bothering you. Big-time.” No one had ever been able to get to him like Samantha Rawlings. One sultry look from her and he melted; a quick lash of her tongue and his temper rocketed into the stratosphere; pain showing in her green eyes and he wanted to kill the bastard who’d hurt her.

One side of her full mouth lifted in a sarcastic smile. “Gee, Kyle, how perceptive of you. Could it be—let me see—the fact that you took off from here ten years ago, left me without so much as a goodbye, didn’t call or write, just sent a formal invitation to my family to your wedding?”

His breath whistled through his teeth. “God, Sam.”

“You asked.” She yanked her arm from his fingers and stormed through the kitchen to the hallway. He caught up to her just as she was leaving, a jacket under one arm, an address book and coffee mug in her hand.

“I think we should talk.”

“Too late.” But again that shadow flickered in her gaze and her steps faltered for a second.

“It’s never too late.”

She let out a soft grunt of defeat. “Oh, Kyle, if you only knew.”

“Knew what?”

Whirling to face him, she dropped her mug. It crashed to the floor and splintered into a thousand pieces. “Oh, for the love of—”

“Forget it.” His fingers once again tightened on her arm.

“What?”

“I’ll sweep up the mess later.” He felt a second’s premonition, as if he were on the edge of a bottomless emotional abyss and the gravel he was standing upon was slowly crumbling beneath his boots. “You were about to confide in me.”

She swallowed. “This—this isn’t the time. There’s a lot to say. Most of it won’t mean a thing, but…well, some things are important.”

“What things?”

Oh, God, could she bring herself to say it? To tell him that he was a father? Come on, Sam, now’s the time. Quit being such a coward!

He was staring at her, waiting, icy blue eyes narrowed on her face. Her heart thundered in her ears. How many times had she envisioned just this moment, dreamed of telling him the truth, even gone so far as picking up the telephone or starting a letter, only to drop the receiver in disgust or wad the unfinished page in her trembling fingers?

“I know I left abruptly,” he said, prodding her.

She let out a sarcastic sound.

“You probably thought we had a future, and we should have, but—”

“Don’t!” She shied away from the truth again and ducked past him to the door.

“Sam—”

“Another time, okay? We can rehash the past some other time, but right now I don’t have a minute to spare. I’ve got to pick up Caitlyn and—and I’ll come back later to work with the horse.”

“I met Caitlyn this morning.”

“You what?” Whirling, she felt her face drain of all color. He’d met Caitlyn? Oh, dear God.

“She stopped by on her way to—to…”

“Tommy Wilkins’s house?”

“That’s right. Seems like a nice enough kid. You did a good job with her.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” She could hardly speak. Licking her lips, she silently called herself a coward, but couldn’t find the nerve to tell him the truth. “Look, I’ve got to run.” She headed for the door again.

“You know, Samantha, I never meant to hurt you.” His words stalked her, trod across her soul. Her own footsteps faltered and her heart felt scraped bare. A huge lump formed in her throat. “Don’t worry about it,” she said over her shoulder. “You didn’t.”

She heard his boots ringing on the floor behind her. She dashed out the back door, ran across the porch and hurtled down the two dusty steps before he caught up with her. A huge hand clamped over her shoulder. “Samantha.”

Heaven preserve me.

“Help me out here.”

“I can’t.” She was dying inside, wanting to tell him, to wound him, to hurt him, and yet she couldn’t, not this way, not until she knew that both she and Caitlyn were ready. Oh, God, what a mess!

“You keep running from me.”

“I guess I learned well. Had a good teacher.”

He stepped in front of her, his shadow falling over her face. “What’s going on?”

“I just think it’s a sin that a woman as smart as Kate would leave this ranch to a citified playboy who doesn’t know the front end of a horse from the back end.”

“You’re a lousy liar.”

“And you’re a lousy lover!”

His mouth fell open and she bit her tongue. That wasn’t what she’d meant to say, but she wasn’t going to retract the words. Their brief affair had been hot, wild and breathless. She’d been a virgin, and he’d been eighteen, randy as a nearly-grown colt. She swallowed hard against the memories and the tingles to her skin. “Just leave me alone, Kyle.”

“No way.”

“I mean it. I’m not a naive, seventeen-year-old girl who worships the ground you walk on anymore.”

His jaw tightened.

“You want the truth? You got it!” Ten years of fury grabbed hold of her tongue. “I thought I loved you, Kyle, and you didn’t care a lick about me. Oh, sure, I was a lot of fun, a good time whenever you were in the mood for a quick one in the hayloft or down by the creek, but certainly not someone to marry or care about.”

“God,” he whispered.

“I wouldn’t have cared, Kyle, wouldn’t have given one good damn, but within three or four months, you got married just like that.” She snapped her fingers in his face, ignoring the old pain throbbing in her heart. “And you didn’t even have the guts to call. Because I meant so little.”

A muscle ticked in the corner of his eye.

“Just some stupid little country girl who was good enough to make it with, but not good enough to—to…”

“To what? Marry?” He angled his face toward hers. “Is that what you wanted?”

I just wanted you to love me. “I guess I did at the time. I believed in commitment. Lucky for me you were so fickle. Otherwise I might have made the biggest mistake of my life!”

“If you were so interested in commitment, what about Caitlyn’s father?”

“Don’t even ask,” she warned, backing up.

“You brought it up.”

“I think it would be best if we kept my daughter out of this conversation.” She didn’t wait for a response, just walked around him and climbed into the cab of her truck. A yellow jacket buzzed wildly over the dash, bouncing against the windshield, nearly tangling in her hair in its flight out the open window.

Sam’s cheeks felt hot and her pulse was dancing crazily as she glanced in the rearview mirror. Kyle hadn’t moved. He stood tall and rigid, his legs planted wider than his shoulders, his straight hair ruffling in the breeze as he stared after her.

Her heart gave a painful kick. Tears threatened, but she willed them away. Her fingers tightened over the wheel as she silently cursed the day she’d met Kyle Fortune and his too-damned-sexy smile.

Four

“Women,” Kyle grumbled, dusting his hands together, as if in so doing he could get rid of Sam and the way she’d already gotten under his skin. It was useless. Somehow, someway, in less than twenty-four hours, she’d managed to invade his mind and slip back into his blood. He had a bad feeling he wasn’t going to purge himself of her easily. He looked at the stallion, which was standing nearly motionless, staring at Kyle as if he were some sideshow attraction. “Women are the single most interesting creation God ever came up with, as well as the most infuriating. Especially that one.” Kyle glanced over his shoulder, but spied only the dust settling onto the gravel driveway. Samantha was long gone. He should have been elated, but wasn’t. Her barbs had stung.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.