Charlene Sands - Carrying the Rancher's Heir / Secret Son, Convenient Wife

In truth, Callie had been looking forward to having the house to herself for the entire weekend. But nothing topped this turn of events—even if it was just an overnight business trip.

Because she’d be with Tagg.

Callie zipped up her suitcase, leaving it on the bed and strode into her walk-in closet, searching for just the right outfit to wear tonight. She came up with a black dress that crisscrossed over the chest but wasn’t too revealing. The dress hit her knees in a flow of material and gathered at the side with a bit of rhinestone bling. It was appropriate for a dinner invitation and yet nothing too provocative.

She’d tossed ankle-high boots in her suitcase for tomorrow. For tonight’s dinner she chose a pair of strappy black heels.

Callie combed her hair, applied light makeup to her eyes, glossed her lips and then slipped into her dress. She was ready by four-thirty.

At exactly five o’clock, a black Lincoln pulled up to her front door. She watched from the window as Tagg got out of the backseat and straightened next to the limo. Her breath caught and she whispered, “Oh, wow,” grateful he couldn’t see her initial reaction.

He looked deadly handsome wearing a white shirt under a stunning black suit coat with wide Western lapels. A dark felt Stetson sat low on his head and his jeans were brand new. He strode up to the front entrance and knocked.

Callie opened the door. “Afternoon, Callie,” he said.

He looked even better up close. A whiff of his cologne wafted over to her. His scent alone was enough to send her over the edge but the whole Tagg package got her heart pumping hard and heavy.

She smiled tentatively, realizing this was her big chance to dazzle him. She wanted to be smooth and elegant tonight. She wanted to know the right thing to say, to keep him intrigued and interested.

Then the reminder came.

They were checking out horses on a ranch.

Not having a romantic rendezvous.

Tagg looked her over, his gaze resting on her hair, which she’d put partially up and away from her face. Loose tendrils flowed down her back. A gleam of approval shone in his eyes. Then his gaze shifted down to her neckline and even farther down to her chest. Her nipples hardened under his scrutiny and she wondered if the arch of his brow meant he’d noticed. He finished his perusal by checking out her legs and then returned to her face with a slow nod. “Nice.”

Inside, she sighed with happiness. “Not so bad yourself, cowboy.”

“Are you ready?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes, I’ll just get my—”

“Got it.” Tagg reached past her to pick up her overnight case. He clutched it easily and glanced inside the house before turning around. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s it.”

“Then let’s go.”

Callie locked the front door and moved silently alongside Tagg as they strode down the inlaid stone pathway leading to the car. In many ways Big Hawk Ranch was situated the same as any other wealthy ranch, including the Worths’. The sprawling two-story ranch house that glistened with pristine paint and wood sidings was the centerpiece. A barn, stable, bunkhouse and storage buildings made up the backdrop of eighty thousand acres of prime grazing land. Cattle roamed off in the distance and the slight sweet scent of wildflowers and tall grass mingled with earth and cattle smells.

A chauffeur stood waiting by the passenger side of the car and Tagg handed him the suitcase. “Thanks, Emmett.”

Tagg allowed Callie to get into the car first, then climbed in after her. It was spacious in the backseat with room to stretch her arms and legs. Yet she couldn’t mistake Tagg’s formidable presence inside the car. He took up space with confidence, as if he had a right to it. The door slammed shut from the outside and the driver got behind the wheel. “I’ll get you to the airstrip in good time, Mr. Worth.” And soon the car was moving off Sullivan land.

Tagg the CFO was just as formidable as Tagg the rodeo champion and equally as cool and distant. Callie wondered if she could penetrate the walls he’d erected. She wondered if Tagg would ever let her get close enough to try. Before she had to tell him about the baby. Keeping her secret from such a man could prove dangerous, and she prayed every day she wasn’t making a colossal mistake.

She slid a glance his way and caught him looking at her legs. When their eyes met, he smiled then turned away to gaze out the window at the passing scenery: miles and miles of the same, pastures and cattle, horses and fences.

She hated that his smile alone could wilt her.

He’s your fantasy man, she reminded herself.

Hang in there, Callie.

Tagg didn’t like airports. He didn’t like flying. But he never let that stop him from getting where he needed to go. It wasn’t fear, but a deep-rooted loathing of anything related to planes. Heather’s crash came too easily to mind when he was near a small airstrip. After that fateful day, he’d stopped taking the Worth family jet and, shortly thereafter, his brothers had decided to close down that piece of land in his wife’s memory.

They boarded a commercial airliner at Sky Harbor International Airport. Tagg made sure they had secluded seating in first class. He didn’t want Callie to be cramped or uncomfortable. And he wanted her to have a good time, but he wouldn’t delve too deeply into why that mattered to him.

Once they were settled and the plane had taken off, Tagg unfastened his seat belt and turned to Callie. “I get how you know horses. You pretty much can’t not know about them growing up on a ranch. But I’m puzzled. How are you an expert with children?”

He watched as she tried to undo the seat belt, her slender fingers fumbling with the stubborn latch. “I, uh, oh, this is really impossible,” she said, her mouth creasing down.

Tagg grinned. “Here.” He leaned over and worked the clasp. Without the slightest resistance, he managed to free her. He was close, leaning in so that his shoulder brushed hers. The subtle female scent he’d resisted while on the drive over invaded his nostrils and he breathed her in fully. Was it her hair, her skin, her perfume that made her smell so damn good?

Tagg slid her a glance and looked into her soft dark eyes. They glistened like melting caramel as she met his gaze softly. “Thank you,” she said.

Tagg looked at her for another second before righting himself and leaning back in his seat. “No problem.”

She relaxed a little, the frustrated frown gone from her face now. “To answer your question, I went to Boston College. I earned my degree in psychology and I worked for some time for the Department of Social Services. It was dry, boring work, not what I really wanted to do. But then something happened to me. I got … mugged.”

Tagg blinked. That was a word foreign to small towns and big ranches. “You got mugged?” he repeated.

“Yeah, I did,” she said, and then her expression turned soft. Almost dreamlike. “It was sort of strange. I couldn’t believe it was happening.”

“Did he hurt you?” Tagg asked. He didn’t understand her wistful expression.

“Oh, no, nothing like that. And it wasn’t a he. It was a she. And she was all of eleven years old.”

“A little girl mugged you?”

“Yes. I could hardly believe it. One minute I’m walking down a crowded street in an upscale part of town, and the next, I feel my purse being yanked off my shoulder. She caught me so off guard that even as I watched her run away, I didn’t understand what had just happened. She was so young and obviously neglected. I could tell from her clothes and the way her hair spiked in ten different directions, like she hadn’t seen a bath in weeks.”