Lisa Jackson - The Millionaire and the Cowgirl

“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.