Champagne Girl
Champagne Girl
Diana Palmer
Love under the Texan skyUnderneath her bubbly carefree facade, there was more–much more–to the champagne girl. Catherine Blake had high personal standards, including a sense of duty to her widowed mother, which brought her back to Comanche Flats, the family ranch.Once she'd returned, her stepbrother, Matt Kincaid, only complicated matters. Matt demanded that she stay on at the ranch, under his watchful eye. But Catherine had a job offer waiting for her in New York City. There was only one thing that could keep her on a dusty cattle ranch in Texas–the love of the rangiest cowboy in the Lone Star State!
Diana Palmer presents a fan-favorite tale of love under the Texan sky in Champagne Girl.
Though Catherine Blake maintained a bubbly, carefree facade, there was more—much more—to her. For one, she had high personal standards, including a sense of duty to her widowed mother. That responsibility brought Catherine back home to her family ranch, Comanche Flats.
Once she’d returned, her stepbrother, Matt Kincaid, demanded that she stay there under his watchful eye. But Catherine had a job offer waiting for her in New York City. There was only one thing that could keep her on a dusty cattle ranch in Texas—the one cowboy in the Lone Star State who had lassoed her heart!
Dear Reader (#ulink_68659237-cc05-591f-a138-778389e48e18),
I really can’t express how flattered I am and also how grateful I am to Mills & Boon Books for releasing this collection of my published works. It came as a great surprise. I never think of myself as writing books that are collectible. In fact, there are days when I forget that writing is work at all. What I do for a living is so much fun that it never seems like a job. And since I reside in a small community, and my daily life is confined to such mundane things as feeding the wild birds and looking after my herb patch in the backyard, I feel rather unconnected from what many would think of as a glamorous profession.
But when I read my email, or when I get letters from readers, or when I go on signing trips to bookstores to meet all of you, I feel truly blessed. Over the past thirty years, I have made lasting friendships with many of you. And quite frankly, most of you are like part of my family. You can’t imagine how much you enrich my life. Thank you so much.
I also need to extend thanks to my family (my husband, James, son, Blayne, daughter-in-law, Christina, and granddaughter, Selena Marie), to my best friend, Ann, to my readers, booksellers and the wonderful people at Mills & Boon Books—from my editor of many years, Tara, to all the other fine and talented people who make up our publishing house. Thanks to all of you for making this job and my private life so worth living.
Thank you for this tribute, Mills & Boon, and for putting up with me for thirty long years! Love to all of you.
Diana Palmer
New York Times and USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Champagne Girl
Diana Palmer
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For Melinda, Aurora, and Pat of Texas
Contents
Cover (#uf7d17200-a06d-5477-a42c-50d24743f109)
Back Cover Text (#u97e010d8-3626-55d5-bcfe-3ccc73b5e574)
Dear Reader (#u8faf5f9d-7bd3-590f-b592-bfc11437af79)
Title Page (#u01f0416b-05b6-5d75-83e6-a3bf8ceef9e9)
Chapter One (#ubbae03d0-e04a-56bf-8f21-2029aec14221)
Chapter Two (#ud7cdc1c6-cfad-57bf-afe6-839530848d8e)
Chapter Three (#u7eae4a12-1356-5a51-8a8c-1d91e98ee382)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_3420c153-38fb-57d7-b718-350f1e31f60a)
Comanche Flats was one of the biggest ranches around, and Catherine Blake always felt a sense of small-town friendliness in the town that had grown up around the ranch. Friendliness and peace. Not that Matt gave her much peace, but she did enjoy the company of her mother and her other stepcousins.
She grinned as she wheeled her small rebuilt white Volkswagen convertible between neat white fences to the big Spanish stucco house beyond, her pale-green eyes on the distant line of oaks visible across the prairie. There were twenty-two square miles of land on this ranch, an hour or so out of Fort Worth, Texas, that her great-uncle had built into an empire. It was always described as lying between the Eastern and Western Cross Timbers, long bands of oaks, once formidable, but now reduced in numbers by encroaching civilization. The bands ran from north to south, and in the days of the great cattle drives they had been a point of reference for cattlemen.
Her slender hand brushed back her dark-chestnut hair from her oval, olive-complexioned face, and she felt again a wild thrill of excitement at having graduated from college with a degree in journalism. While at college in Fort Worth, she’d lived in a dorm during the week and come home on weekends. Often Matt had flown over to get her. The ranch was far enough away from the sprawling Dallas-Fort Worth airport that Matt preferred flying in his private plane, which had a hangar at the tiny airport in Comanche Flats. Catherine smiled, thinking about that, proud of her graduation with honors and her promise of a good job in New York. Matthew Dane Kincaid might pull everybody else’s strings, but he was through pulling Catherine’s as of now. She was almost twenty-two and feeling feverish with independence.
She was just returning from a four-day trip to San Antonio, where she’d tried to find work at a small public relations firm. That hadn’t panned out, but through a contact she’d obtained a job at a bigger firm in New York. The job wasn’t open immediately; it would take several weeks for her office to be readied. But she must have impressed the executive vice-president, because he’d flown all the way down to San Antonio to check out her credentials and had hired her on the spot. She felt excited about that. And about having the opportunity to escape her family. And, especially, Matt.
Odd, she thought, how possessive he’d gotten since her graduation from college. He owned the ranch where she and her mother lived, of course, and the feedlot, and he even had a controlling interest in the local real estate companies. But he was only a stepcousin, and Catherine deeply resented his domination. The loss of her father—he had died during the Vietnam War, when she was a baby—had made her independent-minded at an early age, and she’d fought Matt tooth and nail for years for every inch of freedom she had. When she wasn’t dying of unrequited love for him, she admitted bitterly. Hal and Jerry were never so overbearing. Of course, Matt’s brothers lacked his fiery temper and shrewd business mind. And his inborn arrogance. Matt made arrogance an art.
Betty Blake, all silvery hair and bright eyes and laughter, came rushing down the steps to meet her daughter.
“Darling, you’re home!” she enthused. “How lovely to have you back!”
“It was only for four days,” Catherine reminded her as she returned her mother’s hug. “How did Matt take it?”
“He’s barely spoken to me,” Betty confessed. “Oh, Kit, you’ve landed me in the fire this time!”
“I have to be independent,” Catherine said, her green eyes wide and pleading. “Matt just wants his own way again, as usual, but this time he isn’t winning. I’ll go if I have to wait on tables. But I won’t need to,” she said stubbornly. “I still have my income from the stock. I’ll live on that!”
Betty started to speak but nibbled on her lower lip instead. “Come in and get settled,” she said eventually. “Did you get the job?”
“Not the one in San Antonio,” Catherine said with a sigh. She glowered. “Imagine, having to sneak off and make up stories about holidays with a nonexistent girlfriend just to go and apply! Honestly, Matt is such a tyrant.…” She grinned at her mother’s worried face. “I won’t start again, I promise. Anyway, I did get a job. But it’s in New York.”
“New York!” Betty looked shocked.
“It pays well, and I don’t start for a month. Plenty of time to get ready.”
“Matt won’t like it,” Betty said grimly.
“Matt doesn’t matter!”
“You know better than that,” Betty replied. “Without Matt, you and I would be living in low-income housing right now. You know your father got us up to our ears in debt just before he was killed in Vietnam. I’ve told you often enough.”
“And Great-Uncle Henry got us out of trouble and brought us to live with him. Yes, I know,” she said broodingly. She followed her mother into the enormous house where the beauty of the Spanish styling of the hall and staircase staggered her as much now as it had in her childhood. Betty had been raised in this house, too, by Uncle Henry. “Oh, I love this house,” Catherine murmured.
“Your great-uncle was quite a man,” Betty said with a laugh. “He had style and taste.”
“Except in wives,” Catherine muttered darkly.
“Just because Matt’s mother was young is no excuse for a remark like that. You know very well she adored Henry. And she gave him three strong stepsons, too.”
Catherine didn’t reply. She and her mother went up the winding staircase leading to Catherine’s bedroom. Matt and Hal, who were both bachelors, lived at the other side of the enormous, sprawling house. Jerry and his wife, Barrie, lived in a house farther down the ranch road.
“The family are all coming for dinner tomorrow night,” Betty remarked. “Matt flew to Houston this afternoon, but he’ll be back late tonight, I expect. The rains have been horrible. We’re expecting more tonight, and there are flash-flood warnings out. I do hope he’ll fly carefully.”
“At least he’s not driving, thank God. Matt has never driven carefully,” Catherine said dryly. “How many cars did he wreck before he got out of college?”
Betty laughed. “Not as many as Hal did.”
Catherine stopped on the way down the hall to stare at the huge portrait of Great-Uncle Henry that hung on the wall between a pair of sconces. “I don’t like him up here,” she said as she studied the face that was so much like her late grandfather’s—dark hair and green eyes and an olive complexion, the features Catherine had inherited from her mother’s people. “He belongs downstairs in the living room,” she added absently.
“I can’t watch television with him glaring at me,” Betty said reasonably. “Besides, I always feel safe going down the hall in the dark, knowing he’s here.”
Catherine laughed softly. “Oh, Mama.”
“He was my idol when I was growing up.” The older woman smiled, staring at the portrait. “I adored him. I still do.”
“Even though he provided you with a stepaunt half your age?”
“I like Evelyn quite well, in fact,” Betty answered softly. “She took great care of all of us. My parents died when I was so young, I barely remember them.” She sighed. “I miss your father so much sometimes.…”
“So do I, Mama.” Catherine hugged her gently and gave her a sound kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad I’ve got you,” she said warmly, then quickly changed the subject. “Now, come and tell me all the news! I’m terribly out of touch.”
* * *
Betty and Catherine sat down to dinner alone, listening to Annie’s mutterings as she waddled around the table putting food on it.
“Never can get the family together all at one time,” Annie grumbled, glaring at the food as if it were responsible for her dilemma. “Mr. Hal never shows up until Mr. Matt yells at him, and Mr. Jerry and Miss Barrie gone off again, and—”
“We’ll eat twice as much,” Catherine promised the buxom, white-haired woman who’d come there with Matt’s mother.
Annie relented. “Well, I made enough. We can freeze some, I guess.”
She went back into the kitchen, and Catherine and Betty exchanged knowing glances.
“Where is Hal, anyway?” Catherine asked.
“I don’t know. Before Matt left, he told him to help the boys move some cattle off the flats, and Hal went out into the rain in a huff. He hates getting wet, you know.”
“He hates taking orders more,” the younger woman replied.
“A trait he shares with you, my darling.” Betty sighed as she lifted her fork. “I do hope you won’t start right in on Matt. He’s been in a terrible temper since you left.”
“I’ll wait a day or two, all right?”
Betty looked faintly apprehensive. “All right.”
* * *
Catherine had gone to bed when Hal came in. She heard him talking to Betty as he went past her door. Good old Hal, she thought with a smile. He was her only ally in Matt’s family. She and Hal were a lot alike, both renegades, both refugees from Matt’s authority.
She closed her eyes and slept, feeling safe and comfortable in her warm bed, hearing the rain come down in torrents. She wondered if Matt would be able to fly back tonight.
A few hours later the sound of a motor awakened her, and she lifted the window curtain beside the bed to peek out. The outside lights were ablaze, and a tall, lean man in a distinctive tan trench coat and a silverbelly Stetson was getting out of a car. He lifted an attaché case and plowed toward the house in the drenching rain. Matt!
With faint misgivings she stared down at his hard, formidable face. It was a shock to catch Matt unawares; he was almost always lighthearted and smiling when he was around Catherine. He smiled more with her than with anyone else. But when he didn’t know she was looking, he became a stranger. Matt was a puzzle she’d never solved. Most of his men were afraid of him, although he was never unfair or overly demanding. It was that air of authority he wore, the remnants of his strict upbringing.
Matt was the oldest of Evelyn’s sons from her first marriage, and from all accounts, his childhood hadn’t been an easy one. Matt’s real father had been a military man, and Matt’s early life had been spent at military academies. When his father died and Evelyn married Great-Uncle Henry, he’d stayed in the academy for another year. Then he went on to boarding school, then college, and then service in the Marine Corps, with little chance for parental love in between. Henry was a formidable man himself, and Evelyn was more businesswoman than mother.
But Matt seemed to have gotten enough love from other sources, she thought wryly, remembering the occasional woman she’d seen him with and the adoring glances that came his way. When she was in college, Catherine’s girlfriends had begged to come to the ranch, just for a glimpse of Matt.
Catherine pursed her lips and studied Matt’s tall, muscular body as he started through the gate. He was devastating physically, all right. And he had Spanish eyes, very dark and sparkling, and a deeply tanned face that was sharp-featured and aristocratic. He was something else. She tingled with pride, just looking at him, although she was ready for a fight if it was going to take one to get out from under his thumb. Part of her knew that Matt would never be able to return her tempestuous feelings for him. And it was because of that, more than anything else, that she had to escape. It was devastating to be around Matt and watch him go out with other women all the time. He seemed to have a different one every month. All of them were experienced, sensual women. Nothing like poor little Kit, who had to hide her tears from him. It would have killed her if he’d known how she really felt—that all her outbursts of anger were just defensive tactics.
“Tomorrow,” she whispered, and smiled. “Tomorrow we’ll have it out, big cousin.”
She lay back and closed her eyes.
* * *
The next morning when Catherine came down for breakfast Hal was at the breakfast table with Betty, but Matt was already out the door and gone. Hal looked up, his brown eyes sparkling in a mischievous face. At twenty-three he was the youngest of the three brothers. He was shorter than Matt and not as muscular. Hal had a good brain, when he used it, and was a whiz with machinery. But he preferred the nightspots to the ranch and slipped away at every opportunity. He played at life, and Matt had threatened to throw him off the property because of his penchant for playing practical jokes. But he was loveable, for all his wicked ways, and Catherine had a soft spot for him. In her younger days, he’d been her staunchest ally in dodging Matt’s temper.
“Hi, cousin!” he grinned. “How was the big city?”
“Great!” She sat down and filled her plate. “I got a job!” She told him all about it, enjoying his amazed look as she talked.
“Have you told Matt?” he asked after a minute, his gaze quietly curious.
“I haven’t seen him yet.”
Hal pursed his lips. “She doesn’t know?” he asked Betty.
Catherine cocked her head at him. “Know what?” she asked hesitantly.
“Matt found out where you really were. He’s stopped your allowance.”
“Oh, Hal, why did you do that!” Betty groaned.
Catherine’s eyes sparkled with passion as she threw down her napkin. “Stopped my allowance? He can’t! Those shares are mine!”
“He can do what he likes until you’re twenty-five,” Hal said.
“Where is he?” Catherine demanded.
“Down on the flats, checking to make sure the cattle were all moved before the rains came,” Betty said reluctantly. “He told Hal to get them moved before he left for Houston.”
Hal didn’t reply. He looked disturbed and reached for his coffee cup.
Catherine didn’t notice. She was fuming. She needed that allowance to set herself up in New York. She wouldn’t have any money until her first paycheck. And Matt knew it!
“I’ll shoot him,” she muttered.
“Now, darling, don’t be hasty,” Betty said, trying to soothe her.
But Catherine was already on her way upstairs to change into jodhpurs and boots.
Chapter Two (#ulink_8d6a11ae-358c-5d14-b19d-999846bbf08d)
The sunlight was wonderful after the thundering flood of late-summer rain the night before, but Catherine wasn’t paying the least attention to the beauty of the wide open land and grazing cattle or the distant enormity of the feedlot. Her narrowed green eyes were flashing, and the set of her slender body in the saddle was as rigid as her perfect mouth.
She shivered a little in the early-morning chill. Autumn was coming on. Already the hardwoods were beginning to get crisp leaves on them. She searched the horizon for Matt, but he was nowhere to be seen. She could have screamed. There were times when being part of the Kincaid clan was an absolute torment, and this was one of them. She had a great future in New York in public relations. Why couldn’t Matt let her go after it? Of course, he didn’t know about the New York job offer, but what he’d done would prevent her from going anywhere without his approval. It was always like that. She made plans and Matt fouled them up. He’d done it for years, and nobody had ever stood up to him. Except Catherine, of course.
This time he wasn’t having it all his own way. The fact that he was the chief stockholder in the Kincaid Corporation was irrelevant. Even the fact that she was madly in love with him was irrelevant. He wasn’t going to get away with telling her how to live her life.
She spotted movement down on the soggy river flats, where a few red-coated, white-faced Herefords were mired in mud, and she smiled coldly. She saw only a couple of his men, and that was just as well; she didn’t really want an audience.
Her heartbeats quickened as she coaxed the little mare into a canter and felt the breeze tossing her straight thick dark hair in the wind. She looked good in her jodhpurs and in her neat little blue-checked shirt that left her brown arms bare, but it hadn’t been for Matthew’s sake that she’d dressed so neatly. Matthew wouldn’t notice if she did a Lady Godiva unless she scared his precious cattle. He was immune to women, she thought. Freedom was an obsession with Matt. He’d said often enough that the woman hadn’t been born who could get him in front of a minister.
Catherine had thought about that. She’d thought about making love to Matt, about feeling his hard sensuous mouth on her own. She’d daydreamed for years about it, about marrying him and living on Comanche Flats forever. But she’d learned over the years to keep her deeper longings to herself. Matt helped by ignoring her occasional stray glance that lingered too long and the quickening of her breath when he came close. She’d dated at college and had brought some of the boys home. To Betty’s frank astonishment, Matt had given them a thorough grilling, every one, and he’d set the rules about when Catherine had to be in. It was another of the domineering traits she’d once taken for granted and now resented bitterly. Matt would never want her the way a man wanted a woman. But he had control of her life, and he liked that.
At last she saw him. He was kneeling to examine a hoof of one of the cows. His dark hair was concealed by the wide brim of his hat, and he looked almost like one of the cowboys in his faded denims and chambray shirt and worn boots. But when he stood up, all comparison ended. Matt had the kind of physique that turned up once in a blue moon outside motion pictures. His broad shoulders rippled with muscle, and his lithe body had a sensual rhythm that held women’s eyes when he moved. He was long and lean and darkly tanned, and he had eyes so black that they looked like coal. His nose had been broken once or twice and looked it, and his mouth had a perpetual mocking twist that could put Catherine’s back up in seconds. His cheekbones were high, a legacy of a Comanche ancestor, and he looked as if he needed a shave even when he didn’t because the shadow of his beard was so dark. But he was immaculate for a cattleman. His nails were always trimmed and clean, and he had an arrogant, regal carriage that made Catherine think of the highlander who had come to Texas so many years ago to found the Kincaid line.
The Kincaids had been a political power in this part of the state at one time. Catherine had learned that from listening to Matt’s mother talk about Jackson Kincaid, her first husband. She was proud of Matt’s lineage and never let him forget it. The Kincaid Corporation, the remnant of a small empire, was Matt’s legacy. Evelyn had given shares in it to Great-Uncle Henry, combining both families’ interests. But it was Matt who held the power, and nobody forgot it.
Matt’s sharp ears caught the sound of her mount’s hooves, and he whirled gracefully. His grim face and dark eyes brightened at the look on her face. He tilted his hat back and propped a boot against the oak tree behind him. He leaned back, watching her with an expression that made her want to hit him.
“So there you are,” she muttered, fumbling her way out of the saddle.
“Honey, you’ll never learn to be a good rider if you don’t listen when I try to teach you things. That’s no way to come down off a horse,” he said good-naturedly.
“Don’t ‘honey’ me,” she said. She went right up to him, glaring at him, hating him, her small hands clenched at her back. “Mama told me what you’ve done. Now you listen to me, Matthew Kincaid. I just grew up, and you can stop trying to put me back in your hip pocket. I won’t fit! You gave me those shares when I turned eighteen, and you can’t take them away.”
His narrow eyebrows arched. “Who, me?” he asked innocently. Still watching her with amusement, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with maddening carelessness. “I didn’t take them away, I just had the interest you were drawing reinvested.” He grinned wider. “Look in the small print, Kit. I retained that right when I signed over the shares to you.”
Her eyes lanced into him. “What am I going to do to pay my rent in New York, beg on street corners?”
“I don’t remember any discussion about New York,” he returned at once.
She hated that smile. She knew it all too well from years past. It meant he’d dug in his heels and there wouldn’t be any moving him. Well, she’d just see about that.
“I’ve been offered a job with a very prestigious New York public relations firm,” she told him. “It wasn’t easy to get, and it was only because the father of one of my college friends works there that I was even considered. It’s a plum of a job, Matt. The salary—”
“You’re only twenty-one,” he said, pursing his lips. “And New York is a wild place for a little country girl.”
“I’m not little!”
His eyes went pointedly to her small breasts, and he grinned. “No?”
She let out a furious cry and aimed a kick at his shins with one hard-booted toe. He sidestepped with lightning grace, and she went down flat on her back in the wet grass and mud.
He grinned at the shock on her face, then flashed a look at two of his men who were riding by with curious looks on their faces.
“Better get up quick, honey, or Ben and Charlie there will think you’re trying to entice me into making love to you,” he said outrageously.
“Matthew…Dane Kincaid…I hate you…!” she sputtered as she tried to get to her feet.
He was trying to stop laughing, but without much success. His white teeth flashed and black eyes were alive in his swarthy face. He reached down to grab her wrist and jerked her to her feet. His strength was a little frightening. He looked lithe and limber, but he could have forced her to her knees if he’d flexed his hand, and she knew it. Her angry eyes scanned his hard face, her fury kindling all over again at the traces of humor she saw lingering there. She drew back a hand, but it hovered in midair.
“Hold it right there, honey,” he said, chuckling. “I don’t mind a little dirt, but if you connect with that muddy hand, I’ll hit you where it hurts most.”
“I’ll tell Mama!” she threatened.
“Betty would hold you still for me.”
He loosed her wrist, and she rubbed it, surprised at the tingling sensation that lingered after his hard fingers had withdrawn.
She tugged her long-tailed shirt out of her jodhpurs and used the hem of it to wipe off the mud. He stuck his hands on his lean hips and watched her with the infuriating superiority that clung to him like the faint mud stains on his shirt.
She sighed. “I hate you, you know.”
“No you don’t, Kit.” He grinned. “You just want your own way. And this time, you’re not getting it. I’d never forgive myself if I turned you loose in that big city all alone, fresh out of college in Forth Worth.”
“And that’s another sore spot,” she threw back at him, shivering a little in the cool air. “You hardly even let me go off to college. Not me, oh, no, I had to commute on weekends! It’s a wonder you didn’t come with me and hold my hand as I crossed streets!”
“I did think about it,” he murmured dryly.
“I’m grown up!”
“Not yet,” he corrected. His eyes went down to her breasts and lingered there, where the hard tips were visible through her thin shirt, and he smiled slowly. “But you’re getting there.”
She stared at him unblinkingly, surprised at the remark, at the way he was studying her breasts. Boys had looked at her that way when she wore swimsuits or low-cut blouses, but Matt never had. It shocked her that he’d even bothered to look. Perhaps it was just another way of getting back at her. She folded her arms over her breasts as a scarlet flush covered her cheeks. She avoided meeting his eyes.
“Hey,” he commanded softly.
“What?”
“Look at me.”
She forced her embarrassed eyes up, but he wasn’t teasing her. He looked faintly kind, for Matt.
“If you want to practice public relations, I’ll put you to work,” he said. “You can publicize my foundation sale month after next.”
“Matt, that’s not a job!”
“It’s a job,” he said firmly. “A lot of work goes into that annual sale, and a lot depends on its being a success. I usually hire an outside agency to handle it, but since you’re here, you can do it. I’ll even let you design the brochure.” He eyed her closely. “That’s a challenge, honey. Show me how capable you are, and I’ll make you a present of an apartment in New York and find you another job to boot. I’ve got some contacts of my own.”
She wavered. It was tempting. Very tempting. And if he hadn’t been trying to bend her to his will, she might have accepted his offer. But he was calling the shots, and if she made a success of the job, he’d probably find some way to make her keep working for him. She’d never get away.
So, he wanted his sale publicized, did he? She smiled faintly. Okay. She’d do it. And in such a way that he’d be more than delighted to send her on her way.
“Okay,” she agreed after a minute, her green eyes sparkling. “I’ll just take that dare.”
“I’ll start you off tomorrow morning. Be at the office eight-thirty sharp,” he replied. “Now you’d better get home and change into something a little more decent, or Betty will come after me with a shotgun.”
“I can just see you now, running for the border,” she returned dryly.
He smiled wickedly. “This far away?” he said with a chuckle. “Hell, no, I’d drive.” He pulled his hat low over his eyes. “Hadn’t you better go home and change?”
She knew when she was defeated. Green eyes glared up at him. “You’re just stifling me,” she ground out. “Smothering me! My gosh, you tie me to the house.
You grill every man I date. You won’t let me go to New York and find my own way in life—Matt, I’m a grown woman,” she said, trying to reason with him. “You’re an old bachelor…!”
His eyebrows lifted as he lit another cigarette. “Honey, I’m just thirty-one.”
“And someday you’ll be fifty-one and all alone, and what will you do then?” she asked haughtily.
He smiled slowly. “I guess I’ll start seducing kids your age.”
She opened her mouth, started to speak, thought better of it and closed her mouth with a snap.
“My, my, the fish aren’t biting today,” he said conversationally. Boldly, his dark eyes wandered slowly down the length of her slender body, assessing her; then suddenly they shot up to catch her eyes. She stared back, and the world narrowed to Matt’s face. Cows bellowed all around and cowboys whistled and called, moving them along, but she no longer noticed them. A wild tingling feeling raced through her body as she studied Matt. Never before had she looked at him so intently.
He touched the cigarette to his chiseled mouth, breaking the spell. “No comeback, Kit?” he murmured dryly.
She sighed. “I can’t fight you,” she muttered. “You just laugh at me.”
“It’s less dangerous than doing what I’d like,” he returned, his dark eyes sparkling.
“Try slinging me over your knee, cattle baron, and I’ll make you a legend in your own time with that brochure you want drawn up,” she threatened.
“No you won’t.” He threw down the cigarette and ground it out. “We’re buddies, remember?”
“We used to be. Then you started being so horrible to me,” she reminded him. She dusted off her stained jodhpurs. “God knows what I’ll tell Mama about the way I look,” she added, giving him a mischievous glance.
“Tell her you tried to seduce me,” he suggested with a wicked grin.
“That’ll be the day,” she said darkly, turning back toward her horse.
“Don’t you think you could?” he teased.
She mounted, feeling odd at the suggestion, and glanced down at him. “Actually,” she told him, “I don’t know how.”
“No experience?” he asked mockingly, but there was a serious note in his deep, drawling voice.
“I’ve been saving myself for you, didn’t you know?”
He laughed softly. “Have you?”
It was new and heady to flirt openly with Matt. She’d never done it before. She wrapped the reins gently around one hand and stilled the nervous little mare, patting her neck as she talked softly to her. Her amused eyes met Matt’s. “Better lock your door at night.”
His dark eyes twinkled with new lights. “I do. I’ve been terrified of you since you graduated from high school.”
“Have you really?” She grinned. “I did notice all the women you gathered around you to protect yourself from me.”
He didn’t smile. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“Your suitors have been conspicuous by their absence the past few months,” he remarked.
She lifted her shoulders. “Jack gave me up in the early summer,” she said. “He was afraid you’d kill him if he tried anything with me. He even said so.”
He looked toward the cowboys, who were starting to drive cattle through a nearby opening in the fence. “I’ve got work to do, honey.”
“Conference over.” She sighed. “You never talk to me.”
He looked up, and something in his black eyes made her nervous. “I may do that—sooner than you think, little Kit.” His gaze grew piercing, searching. “After all, you’re straining at the bonds for the first time. You’ll fly away if I’m not careful.”
“I’m not a bird, you know,” she said pleasantly.
“More of a tadpole,” he murmured.
“You call me a frog again, and I’ll tell Hal and Jerry,” she threatened.
“Tadpole, not frog. Go ahead and tell them,” he challenged, smiling. “Remember me, Kit? I’m the black sheep.”
“Some black sheep. You’re the one with the brains and the strong back,” she had to admit, softening as she looked down at him. His face was creased with harsh lines that neither of his brothers had. It was always Matt who’d had the lion’s share of the responsibility. Hal did what he pleased, and Jerry did what he could, but he didn’t have Matt’s business sense and was intelligent enough to admit it.
“Was I asking for a vote of confidence?” he asked with mock astonishment.
“You never would. But you’ve got mine,” she said with a soft smile.
He seemed to tauten at the softness in her voice. “Risky, Kit, looking at me that way,” he said with a faint smile. “I might go crazy right here.”
“You, go crazy over a woman?” she asked with a laugh. “That’ll be the day. Anyway, it would take someone with experience and pizzazz. I’m just your pesky stepcousin.”
“You’re a beauty, young Catherine,” he returned, and seemed to really mean it. She colored gently at the masculine appreciation in the look he gave her. “Quality, all the way.”
“You’re not bad yourself, cowboy,” she murmured demurely. “I have to go home and change. I thought I’d go see a movie later.”
“Did you? What kind of movie?”
“There’s one of those very adult shows at the drive-in,” she confided. “I thought I’d take Hal and educate him.”
His face went hard all at once, and the sudden eclipse of humor surprised her. “No,” he said quietly. “Not Hal. If you go to any drive-ins, I’ll take you. And not tonight. I’ve got a date already. I’ll take you Friday.”
It was like sticking her finger in an electric socket. She simply stared at him. “What?”
“I said I’ll take you to the movies Friday, Kit,” he replied, and grinned at her. “I’m not letting you corrupt Hal. Besides, he’s too young for you.”
She burst out laughing. She must have imagined his sudden anger, she told herself. Matt had only been teasing all along.
“I suppose he is,” she had to admit. “Are you?”
His mouth curled. “What do you think, honey?” he asked in a tone he’d never used with her before. It was like velvet. Soft. Honey smooth. Seductive.
She stared down at him curiously. “You’re too old for drive-ins,” she said slowly.
He shook his head. “We’ll take the pickup and I’ll buy you a pizza. It will rejuvenate me,” he added with a grin.
“I can just see you at a drive-in,” she murmured. Her green eyes flirted with his dark ones. “Okay. But I won’t kiss you if you drink beer.”
His eyebrows lifted and something flashed in his eyes. He laughed gently. “Okay.”
She’d shocked herself with her impulsive remark, and now she felt embarrassed. As if Matt would want to kiss her! But her eyes fell to his hard mouth as if of their own accord, and she stared at his lips with unexpected curiosity. She looked up in time to see a wildness in his eyes. A shock of electric current linked them, making her want to dive down into his arms and kiss his hard, sexy mouth until the aching of her young body stopped. And that shocked her enough that she dragged her eyes away.
“You did mean what you said, about letting me go to New York if I do a good job on your sale?” she persisted.
He turned back toward his men. “I meant it.”
“Matt—”
“Hey, Charlie, bring the truck for this one!” he called to an old cowboy and he gestured toward a downed cow farther along the trail.
She sighed in irritation. Well, that was that, he’d just forgotten that she was alive. That was his response to discussions he didn’t want. He just walked away from them. She glared at his back for a long moment before she suddenly wheeled her mount and started toward the ranch.
Well, at least she had a chance to escape now. Her face burned as she remembered what she’d said to him about the drive-in. She’d probably shocked him with that silly remark about kissing him.
She shifted in the saddle, thinking about going to a drive-in with Matt. Her body tingled with delight at the prospect. He’d never taken her anywhere alone. And probably he wasn’t going to now, either. He’d invite one of the family to go with them. And why would he take the pickup?
Matt bothered her. He puzzled her. He was a cutup, a wild man—except when he was being Mr. Kincaid. She’d seen him do that. She’d watched him put down men who thought they could walk all over him because he seemed easygoing. There was a white-hot temper and a will like iron underneath his good humor.
Worrying about things wasn’t going to help, she told herself. She’d do better to concentrate on how to promote the cattle sale. It was her only chance of escape from her family. And from Matt. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life waiting for him. She couldn’t live near him and watch him marry someone else—and he would eventually. The corporation would have to have an heir, and he was in control. Probably it would be some sophisticated socialite with holdings of her own. A merger more than a marriage.
She leaned forward over the little mare’s mane and gave her her head as they went toward the barn.
Chapter Three (#ulink_6ca2fcc1-4a0a-5902-8f29-76557f58f86f)
Jerry and Barrie were at supper that night. Jerry, like Hal and Matt, had dark eyes, but he alone of the three had sandy-blond hair and a receding hairline. He was taller than Hal, but not as tall as Matt. Barrie was redheaded and blue eyed and very petite and mischievous. Catherine had always adored her.
As Annie waddled in with the salads, Catherine allowed Hal to seat her, and she noted his thoughtful glances. Matt hadn’t made an appearance yet, and Catherine found herself watching the doorway, waiting. She knew he was going out, that he wouldn’t be joining them for the evening meal, but she couldn’t help watching for him. Habits were hard to break. She looked down at her blue shirtwaist dress and imagined I Adore Matt written all over it with a felt-tip marker. That was vaguely amusing and she laughed.
“That’s better,” Hal murmured. “You were looking solemn, little cousin.”
“Who, me?” She gaped. “I’m never solemn.”
“I know,” he returned.
“Betty said you were trying to go to New York to work,” Jerry said, glancing at her. He smiled absently. “I knew you’d only come to grief.”
“How?”
“I know my brother. Matt keeps you on a short leash, doesn’t he?”
Catherine glared at him. “I can do what I please. As it happens,” she said to save face, “Matt’s offered me a job. I’m organizing the foundation sale.”
“Darling, how lovely!” Barrie exclaimed. “You’ll do a grand job.”
“You and your cattle hang-up,” Jerry growled at her. “I can see you now, leading that prize bull of yours around, with the baby under one arm—when you ever decide to have a baby.”
“Don’t be silly, my love,” Barrie murmured, peering up at him. “I’ll have the baby in one of those carry things they wear these days. He’ll learn the business from the ground up.” She elbowed her husband. “Anyway, what do you mean, ‘when I decide to have a baby’? How can I? You’re never at home. It takes two,” she added with a poisonous smile.
Jerry cleared his throat and offered Betty the rolls.
Catherine and Hal exchanged amused glances just as Matt walked in. It was obvious he’d changed for his date, because he was wearing a dark dinner jacket with a red tie. He looked so devastating that Catherine had to drop her eyes.
“Hal, I’d like a word with you,” he said without preamble.
Hal looked uncomfortable and made a face, but he got up and went with his stern older brother out into the hall. The door closed and everyone exchanged puzzled glances.
“He didn’t move those cattle like Matt told him,” Barrie volunteered with a grimace. “At least four of them drowned.”
So that was what Matt had been doing on the flats, Catherine thought suddenly, amazed that she hadn’t connected the mired cattle with Hal’s disobedience. Poor old Hal, she thought. Matt would eat him alive.
“Will he ever grow up?” Jerry grumbled. “He plays at life.”
“He’s very young, dear,” Betty intervened.
Catherine was just about to rush to his defense, too, just as a loud voice broke the silence in the hall, followed by a thump and a hard thud. Catherine jumped to her feet and opened the door to find Hal just picking himself up from the floor. Matt was standing over him, unruffled, his face like stone, his eyes blazing with anger. He glanced at Catherine, and he was a stranger again, all authority and bristling masculinity. He laughed curtly.
“Florence Nightingale to the rescue,” he chided. “Pick him up and pet him, if you like, but do it damned fast. He’s leaving for Houston. And if he doesn’t straighten out his priorities while he’s there,” he added with a cold glare at Hal, who was gingerly touching his jaw, “he can damned well stay in Houston.”
“My God, it was only four head—” Hal began.
“One head would have been one too many,” Matt replied.
“Jerry and I have a stake in the corporation, too,” Hal shot back. “You’re not the whole show!”
“I am until you can carry your share of the load,” Matt returned. “Grow up!”
Hal got to his feet and glared at the taller man. “The iron man, aren’t you?” He laughed mirthlessly. “No chinks in your armor, no human weaknesses. Not even a weakness for a special woman.”
“You’d better phone and see if you can get a flight out of here tonight,” Matt said, ignoring the little speech.
Hal inclined his head. “Whatever you say, boss.” He fingered his jaw and glanced ruefully at Catherine. “Be sure to duck, cousin.”
Catherine watched him turn toward the stairs. She started back toward the dining room, but Matt caught her arm.
The light touch was indescribable. He came up behind her and was so close that she could hear his heavy breath as it sighed out over her hair. His fingers were steely through the soft jersey of her dress sleeve, and she couldn’t seem to get her breath.
Someone had closed the door to the dining room after she’d gone through it. Probably Jerry, she thought dazedly; he wasn’t one to eavesdrop.
“Afraid of me?” he asked at her back.
She turned and looked up at him with soft green eyes.
“No. Not really. It’s just that you seem like a stranger sometimes, Matt.”
“Hal has to learn responsibility,” he said.
“I won’t argue that,” she replied. “But he won’t ever be you.”
He sighed half-angrily. His dark eyes searched hers in the sudden stillness of the hall.
“Don’t you have a date to rush off to?” she asked pointedly.
“I have a social engagement,” he replied. He pulled out a gold cigarette case—the one she’d given him for Christmas last year—and casually lit a cigarette, as if he had all the time in the world.
“Same difference,” she said.
He shook his head, then lifted the cigarette to his smiling mouth. “It’s a formal dinner. And women weren’t included, except for the wives of the organizers.”
“You don’t owe me any explanations, Matt.” She started toward the dining room, but he drew her back with the lightest pressure of his fingers.
“No, I don’t,” he agreed. She stared at his red tie.
His fingers moved to her throat and stroked its soft elegant line, and her mouth trembled. She looked up at him with her breath sticking in her throat.
“Don’t,” she pleaded breathlessly. It was the first time he’d ever touched her like that, and it frightened her. All her wild dreams went into hiding at the reality. The uncontrolled pleasure she felt was unexpected.
“Why not?” he murmured. “Bachelors are entitled to play a little, honey,” he said with a slow smile, and his fingers stroked over a larger area, edging under the neck of her dress and onto her shoulder.
“Not with me, you don’t,” she said. She reached up to catch his fingers. “It’s not fair, Matt. Shooting fish in a barrel.”
“Why not, when it’s the only way you can get the fish at all?”
“Matt…”
He looked down at her soft, full mouth, outlined carefully with a delicate lipstick. He moved closer, the hand that held the cigarette sliding around her waist to draw her body to the length of his.
She couldn’t breathe at all now. She looked up into dark, secretive eyes and felt her body begin to throb. He’d held her before, of course, to comfort her when she cried and once to carry her over a rising stream bed. He’d even carried her to bed once when she was sick. But it had never been like this before, with his dark eyes hungry as they looked into hers and a nameless awareness between them that grew by the second.
“Have you ever been kissed properly?” he asked in a deep, gruff whisper.
Her lips parted under a rush of breath. “Of…course.”
“I like it hard,” he whispered, bending his head. “I may be rough with you at first. Don’t be frightened.”
“Matt!” Her voice sounded wild.
His fingers tilted her chin, and there was a sensuality in his face that she’d never seen before. “What are you so nervous about?” he breathed against her lips.
Her mouth felt the threat of his, and her hands clenched on his lapels as the images in her mind overwhelmed her. Her body was trembling, and he was so close to her that he had to feel it.
“So hungry,” he whispered, threatening her mouth with his without ever coming close enough to take it. “Aching for me. And all it would take is another fraction of an inch, like this,” he whispered, moving his head down so that she could breathe the minty scent of him, “and I could have you, Kit.…”
“Please,” she whimpered, stiffening as the words and his cologne and the warmth of his whipcord body all weakened her. “Matt, please, please…” She didn’t realize that she was reaching up, her cold and trembling hands at the nape of his neck, her body at fever pitch with wanting.
“Oh, no.” He laughed softly. Both hands caught her by the waist. “Not yet.”
Her eyes widened. She was shaking. Shaking! And he was smiling at her with such worldly amusement.…
“Damn you,” she said under her breath, tears threatening.
“I’m late already,” he said. “Go eat your dinner, honey. We’ll put everything on hold until tomorrow night. The movie,” he reminded her in a low whisper. “And I won’t drink beer.”
“I won’t go!” She stared at him, eyes enormous in her face, her body shaking with what he’d aroused and not satisfied.
“Yes you will.” He brushed back a strand of chestnut hair from her shoulder. His eyes held hers.
She moved away from him, fighting for composure. “I won’t be just one in a line,” she said. “I won’t let you seduce me. You’re just after a new thrill. And I’m not going to be it,” she said firmly.
He laughed deep in his throat, and his eyes were bright with amusement. “Coward,” he murmured dryly.
She flushed, and almost ran back into the dining room. Catching herself, she slowly opened the door and left him standing in the hall.
* * *
Catherine didn’t hear another word that was said to her for the rest of the night. She smiled and talked automatically, and all the while she felt Matt’s hands, the sigh of his breath on her mouth. She ached all over with strange new hungers, feeling oddly restless and irritable. And in the morning she was going to have to pretend she felt nothing because Matt was astute and it would be suicide to let him see how she felt. If only she knew what kind of game he was playing! Would he really go that far? Would he tease her just to keep her under his thumb? She lay awake until the early hours, worrying about it, more determined than ever to break free before she fell victim to his dark, sensuous charm.
Hal flew out sometime in the night and wasn’t at the breakfast table the next morning. Betty was, though. And Matt.
He watched Catherine over his second cup of coffee, his eyes mocking as she fumbled her way through bacon and eggs.
“Such a lovely day, after all that rain,” Betty was saying. “I think I’ll drive into Fort Worth and do some shopping. Catherine, can I pick up anything for you?”
“No, thank you, Mama,” Catherine replied, trying to stop her renegade heart from running wild every time Matt looked in her direction. He was wearing a three-piece gray suit, and he looked debonair and worldly.
She had on a simple short-sleeved green knit top and a skirt, and was worried that she might be overdressed for her first day on the job. “I didn’t know what to wear this morning,” she began hesitantly.
“Angel and the other girls usually wear dresses or skirts,” Matt told her. “Jack, our sales manager, wears a suit. I alternate between suits and jeans, depending on my schedule. Today I have to fly down to San Antonio, so I’m a bit more formal. But we don’t have a dress code. You can wear jeans if you like.”
“I’ll remember tomorrow. Do I get my own office?” she asked with a smile.
“You can share mine, honey. I’ve got an extra desk.” He finished his coffee. “Ready?”
“Yes. See you later, Mama,” she murmured, rising as Matt held her chair. She couldn’t help but be puzzled by his new polite behavior. Even Betty seemed to notice, but she only smiled.
It felt strange riding beside Matt in his Lincoln. He glanced at her curiously; it wasn’t like her to be so silent, so subdued.
“What’s wrong?” he asked gently as he pulled up in front of the ranch office.
“Nothing,” she said quickly and gave him a flashing smile. “I was just thinking up ideas for the sale.”
Fortunately, he took that at face value. He got out and opened her door, but he paused when she expected him to move, so that she cannoned into him.
His hands, firm and strong, caught her shoulders and he was so close that she felt his breath in her hair. He smelled of spice and tobacco, and the muscular warmth of his body enveloped her from head to toe. She couldn’t quite breathe, and she didn’t dare look up. Her heart was beating like mad.
“You’ve avoided looking at me all morning,” he said quietly. “Is it because I tried to kiss you…or because I stopped too soon?”
Her face burned in reaction. And still she couldn’t look up. Her lips parted on a rush of breath. “It’s…new.”
“Yes.”
“Matt…”
“What?”
“Just…Matt.” She lifted her face then, and her misty green eyes sought his. He seemed to stop breathing and just stared at her. He didn’t smile. His eyes searched, probed.
“Don’t be afraid of me, Kit,” he said, his voice deep and slow and soft.
“You’re a stranger.…”
He shook his head. “No. You’re just looking at me in a different way.”
“Why?” she asked, needing to know.
His hands tightened on her shoulders. “One day at a time, honey,” he said then. “Don’t ask questions until you want the answers. Let’s get to work.”
He turned her and prodded her toward the big one-story building that housed an impressive computer setup. He had four young women working for him and two salesmen. Hal, when he was in town, had his own office, as well. It was a smoothly run operation. Thousands of dollars’ worth of cattle were bought and sold without a single head being moved physically. Matt even had cattle on videocassettes so he could show them to prospective buyers out of town. It was a wildly progressive kind of business, and Matt ran it with ease.
He showed her into his private, carpeted office. The room looked like it belonged to Matt, all tough leather and earth colors and hardwood. There were two desks: his and a smaller one, where a computer and printer sat.
“You know how to use this, don’t you?” he asked, smiling amusedly.
She glared up at him. “Yes. I had one just like it at school.”
His eyes dropped to her mouth, and she was glad there were other girls working here. It kept him from doing what she really wanted him to do.
“If you have any problems with the computer, Angel can help you. She’s the brunette at the desk outside my office. She has the preliminary information on the sale, as well. Until I volunteered you, it was her job to get it together for the public relations people. Okay?”
“Okay.” She sat down and stared at the keyboard, a hundred conflicting emotions making her restless, disturbing her. She was hot despite the air-conditioning. It was already late September, but the weather was getting hotter instead of colder, if today was any indication.
“Don’t wear your hair like that tonight,” he said suddenly.
She glanced up, remembering that she had her chestnut waves in a bun on top of her head. “What?”
“Leave it loose. I hate hairpins.”
“Do you ever stop giving orders?” she asked.
“Sure. In bed.”
Her face flushed, and he smiled—a sensual, confident smile that frightened her a little. He was a predator, and she was the quarry. That was what she’d always thought she wanted, but now that it was happening, she was afraid.
“Anyway,” she continued nervously, “I’m not sure I want to go to a drive-in with you.”
“Yes, you do,” he returned. He leaned over her, surrounding her, one hand on her chair, the other on the edge of the desk. His dark face was close to hers, and she could see the hard lines in it, the twist of his firm lips, the silver sprinkled in the darkness of his straight, thick hair. His cheek was very close, and she wanted to touch its hardness.
Her eyes lifted to his and got lost there. She saw the muscles in his jaw go taut as they stared at each other, and his breathing began to get ragged.
“I want your mouth, Catherine,” he said unexpectedly. “So I think I’d better get out of here before I shock a few people.”
He stood up, and she fumbled with the papers on the desk, feeling all thumbs and inexperienced while she tried to decide if she’d just been hearing things or if he’d really said what she thought she’d heard.
“I’ll, uh, get started,” she said in a husky voice.
“You do that.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, reading the flash of uncertainty on her face. “Catherine, I won’t hurt you,” he said under his breath.
She really crimsoned then, and he sauntered out of the office, catching other pairs of eyes as he walked. He really was the most devastating man!
What was she going to do? She wanted him so much. There had never really been anyone in her heart except Matt though the only interest he’d ever shown in her before was to check out the competition. He seemed to accept it as a necessity, but he made it as uncomfortable as he could for her few dates.
She wondered at the extent of his possessiveness. He’d worked his way into her life so slowly that, before she’d realized it, he’d become her life. And he knew it. That was what hurt most, that he had her in the palm of his hand while he was still going out with a string of women. He didn’t even make a secret of it. Because, she told herself, he never got serious. He wouldn’t get serious about her, either. She’d have to keep that in mind in case she got stupid and started begging him to kiss her at the drive-in.
For the time being, she decided to concentrate all her energy on preparing the publicity she would get out for Matt’s foundation sale. And that meant she needed a list of the lots of cattle he was going to sell. She pulled them out of the computer, complete with herd numbers, lineage, weights and gaining ratios. It was a complicated business, cattle raising, but Catherine knew enough about it to get by.
She worked out a set of dates for releasing information and got together a list of potential out-of-state buyers to contact, all her tumultuous feelings forgotten in her fascination with her new job. Then she went to find Matt.
“If you’re looking for Matt, he’s already gone.” Angel sighed, chin in her hands as she stared wistfully at the door. “He’s flying down to San Antonio with his lunch date. I’ll bet it’s that Laredo real estate agent again,” she murmured. “She’s been hanging around for a month. Well, at least she’s better than the oil company executive lady from New Orleans,” she added with a bright smile.
“I didn’t know there was a current lady,” Catherine said, trying to sound lighthearted. “We never see them at the house.”
“I don’t imagine so!” Angel said meaningfully. “We only know because they call him here. This last one has been around for about three months. But I think he’s getting tired of her. He’s been dodging her calls all week.”
It was a horrible reminder of what would happen to her if she let Matt get too close, of what would happen when he tired of her innocence. He wasn’t a marrying man; he’d said so. That only left one thing he could want, and after last night, she knew she was on the endangered-species list. That almost-kiss had knocked her to her knees. She could barely imagine what it would be like if he started making love to her.
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Diana Palmer
Love under the Texan skyUnderneath her bubbly carefree facade, there was more–much more–to the champagne girl. Catherine Blake had high personal standards, including a sense of duty to her widowed mother, which brought her back to Comanche Flats, the family ranch.Once she'd returned, her stepbrother, Matt Kincaid, only complicated matters. Matt demanded that she stay on at the ranch, under his watchful eye. But Catherine had a job offer waiting for her in New York City. There was only one thing that could keep her on a dusty cattle ranch in Texas–the love of the rangiest cowboy in the Lone Star State!
Diana Palmer presents a fan-favorite tale of love under the Texan sky in Champagne Girl.
Though Catherine Blake maintained a bubbly, carefree facade, there was more—much more—to her. For one, she had high personal standards, including a sense of duty to her widowed mother. That responsibility brought Catherine back home to her family ranch, Comanche Flats.
Once she’d returned, her stepbrother, Matt Kincaid, demanded that she stay there under his watchful eye. But Catherine had a job offer waiting for her in New York City. There was only one thing that could keep her on a dusty cattle ranch in Texas—the one cowboy in the Lone Star State who had lassoed her heart!
Dear Reader (#ulink_68659237-cc05-591f-a138-778389e48e18),
I really can’t express how flattered I am and also how grateful I am to Mills & Boon Books for releasing this collection of my published works. It came as a great surprise. I never think of myself as writing books that are collectible. In fact, there are days when I forget that writing is work at all. What I do for a living is so much fun that it never seems like a job. And since I reside in a small community, and my daily life is confined to such mundane things as feeding the wild birds and looking after my herb patch in the backyard, I feel rather unconnected from what many would think of as a glamorous profession.
But when I read my email, or when I get letters from readers, or when I go on signing trips to bookstores to meet all of you, I feel truly blessed. Over the past thirty years, I have made lasting friendships with many of you. And quite frankly, most of you are like part of my family. You can’t imagine how much you enrich my life. Thank you so much.
I also need to extend thanks to my family (my husband, James, son, Blayne, daughter-in-law, Christina, and granddaughter, Selena Marie), to my best friend, Ann, to my readers, booksellers and the wonderful people at Mills & Boon Books—from my editor of many years, Tara, to all the other fine and talented people who make up our publishing house. Thanks to all of you for making this job and my private life so worth living.
Thank you for this tribute, Mills & Boon, and for putting up with me for thirty long years! Love to all of you.
Diana Palmer
New York Times and USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Champagne Girl
Diana Palmer
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For Melinda, Aurora, and Pat of Texas
Contents
Cover (#uf7d17200-a06d-5477-a42c-50d24743f109)
Back Cover Text (#u97e010d8-3626-55d5-bcfe-3ccc73b5e574)
Dear Reader (#u8faf5f9d-7bd3-590f-b592-bfc11437af79)
Title Page (#u01f0416b-05b6-5d75-83e6-a3bf8ceef9e9)
Chapter One (#ubbae03d0-e04a-56bf-8f21-2029aec14221)
Chapter Two (#ud7cdc1c6-cfad-57bf-afe6-839530848d8e)
Chapter Three (#u7eae4a12-1356-5a51-8a8c-1d91e98ee382)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_3420c153-38fb-57d7-b718-350f1e31f60a)
Comanche Flats was one of the biggest ranches around, and Catherine Blake always felt a sense of small-town friendliness in the town that had grown up around the ranch. Friendliness and peace. Not that Matt gave her much peace, but she did enjoy the company of her mother and her other stepcousins.
She grinned as she wheeled her small rebuilt white Volkswagen convertible between neat white fences to the big Spanish stucco house beyond, her pale-green eyes on the distant line of oaks visible across the prairie. There were twenty-two square miles of land on this ranch, an hour or so out of Fort Worth, Texas, that her great-uncle had built into an empire. It was always described as lying between the Eastern and Western Cross Timbers, long bands of oaks, once formidable, but now reduced in numbers by encroaching civilization. The bands ran from north to south, and in the days of the great cattle drives they had been a point of reference for cattlemen.
Her slender hand brushed back her dark-chestnut hair from her oval, olive-complexioned face, and she felt again a wild thrill of excitement at having graduated from college with a degree in journalism. While at college in Fort Worth, she’d lived in a dorm during the week and come home on weekends. Often Matt had flown over to get her. The ranch was far enough away from the sprawling Dallas-Fort Worth airport that Matt preferred flying in his private plane, which had a hangar at the tiny airport in Comanche Flats. Catherine smiled, thinking about that, proud of her graduation with honors and her promise of a good job in New York. Matthew Dane Kincaid might pull everybody else’s strings, but he was through pulling Catherine’s as of now. She was almost twenty-two and feeling feverish with independence.
She was just returning from a four-day trip to San Antonio, where she’d tried to find work at a small public relations firm. That hadn’t panned out, but through a contact she’d obtained a job at a bigger firm in New York. The job wasn’t open immediately; it would take several weeks for her office to be readied. But she must have impressed the executive vice-president, because he’d flown all the way down to San Antonio to check out her credentials and had hired her on the spot. She felt excited about that. And about having the opportunity to escape her family. And, especially, Matt.
Odd, she thought, how possessive he’d gotten since her graduation from college. He owned the ranch where she and her mother lived, of course, and the feedlot, and he even had a controlling interest in the local real estate companies. But he was only a stepcousin, and Catherine deeply resented his domination. The loss of her father—he had died during the Vietnam War, when she was a baby—had made her independent-minded at an early age, and she’d fought Matt tooth and nail for years for every inch of freedom she had. When she wasn’t dying of unrequited love for him, she admitted bitterly. Hal and Jerry were never so overbearing. Of course, Matt’s brothers lacked his fiery temper and shrewd business mind. And his inborn arrogance. Matt made arrogance an art.
Betty Blake, all silvery hair and bright eyes and laughter, came rushing down the steps to meet her daughter.
“Darling, you’re home!” she enthused. “How lovely to have you back!”
“It was only for four days,” Catherine reminded her as she returned her mother’s hug. “How did Matt take it?”
“He’s barely spoken to me,” Betty confessed. “Oh, Kit, you’ve landed me in the fire this time!”
“I have to be independent,” Catherine said, her green eyes wide and pleading. “Matt just wants his own way again, as usual, but this time he isn’t winning. I’ll go if I have to wait on tables. But I won’t need to,” she said stubbornly. “I still have my income from the stock. I’ll live on that!”
Betty started to speak but nibbled on her lower lip instead. “Come in and get settled,” she said eventually. “Did you get the job?”
“Not the one in San Antonio,” Catherine said with a sigh. She glowered. “Imagine, having to sneak off and make up stories about holidays with a nonexistent girlfriend just to go and apply! Honestly, Matt is such a tyrant.…” She grinned at her mother’s worried face. “I won’t start again, I promise. Anyway, I did get a job. But it’s in New York.”
“New York!” Betty looked shocked.
“It pays well, and I don’t start for a month. Plenty of time to get ready.”
“Matt won’t like it,” Betty said grimly.
“Matt doesn’t matter!”
“You know better than that,” Betty replied. “Without Matt, you and I would be living in low-income housing right now. You know your father got us up to our ears in debt just before he was killed in Vietnam. I’ve told you often enough.”
“And Great-Uncle Henry got us out of trouble and brought us to live with him. Yes, I know,” she said broodingly. She followed her mother into the enormous house where the beauty of the Spanish styling of the hall and staircase staggered her as much now as it had in her childhood. Betty had been raised in this house, too, by Uncle Henry. “Oh, I love this house,” Catherine murmured.
“Your great-uncle was quite a man,” Betty said with a laugh. “He had style and taste.”
“Except in wives,” Catherine muttered darkly.
“Just because Matt’s mother was young is no excuse for a remark like that. You know very well she adored Henry. And she gave him three strong stepsons, too.”
Catherine didn’t reply. She and her mother went up the winding staircase leading to Catherine’s bedroom. Matt and Hal, who were both bachelors, lived at the other side of the enormous, sprawling house. Jerry and his wife, Barrie, lived in a house farther down the ranch road.
“The family are all coming for dinner tomorrow night,” Betty remarked. “Matt flew to Houston this afternoon, but he’ll be back late tonight, I expect. The rains have been horrible. We’re expecting more tonight, and there are flash-flood warnings out. I do hope he’ll fly carefully.”
“At least he’s not driving, thank God. Matt has never driven carefully,” Catherine said dryly. “How many cars did he wreck before he got out of college?”
Betty laughed. “Not as many as Hal did.”
Catherine stopped on the way down the hall to stare at the huge portrait of Great-Uncle Henry that hung on the wall between a pair of sconces. “I don’t like him up here,” she said as she studied the face that was so much like her late grandfather’s—dark hair and green eyes and an olive complexion, the features Catherine had inherited from her mother’s people. “He belongs downstairs in the living room,” she added absently.
“I can’t watch television with him glaring at me,” Betty said reasonably. “Besides, I always feel safe going down the hall in the dark, knowing he’s here.”
Catherine laughed softly. “Oh, Mama.”
“He was my idol when I was growing up.” The older woman smiled, staring at the portrait. “I adored him. I still do.”
“Even though he provided you with a stepaunt half your age?”
“I like Evelyn quite well, in fact,” Betty answered softly. “She took great care of all of us. My parents died when I was so young, I barely remember them.” She sighed. “I miss your father so much sometimes.…”
“So do I, Mama.” Catherine hugged her gently and gave her a sound kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad I’ve got you,” she said warmly, then quickly changed the subject. “Now, come and tell me all the news! I’m terribly out of touch.”
* * *
Betty and Catherine sat down to dinner alone, listening to Annie’s mutterings as she waddled around the table putting food on it.
“Never can get the family together all at one time,” Annie grumbled, glaring at the food as if it were responsible for her dilemma. “Mr. Hal never shows up until Mr. Matt yells at him, and Mr. Jerry and Miss Barrie gone off again, and—”
“We’ll eat twice as much,” Catherine promised the buxom, white-haired woman who’d come there with Matt’s mother.
Annie relented. “Well, I made enough. We can freeze some, I guess.”
She went back into the kitchen, and Catherine and Betty exchanged knowing glances.
“Where is Hal, anyway?” Catherine asked.
“I don’t know. Before Matt left, he told him to help the boys move some cattle off the flats, and Hal went out into the rain in a huff. He hates getting wet, you know.”
“He hates taking orders more,” the younger woman replied.
“A trait he shares with you, my darling.” Betty sighed as she lifted her fork. “I do hope you won’t start right in on Matt. He’s been in a terrible temper since you left.”
“I’ll wait a day or two, all right?”
Betty looked faintly apprehensive. “All right.”
* * *
Catherine had gone to bed when Hal came in. She heard him talking to Betty as he went past her door. Good old Hal, she thought with a smile. He was her only ally in Matt’s family. She and Hal were a lot alike, both renegades, both refugees from Matt’s authority.
She closed her eyes and slept, feeling safe and comfortable in her warm bed, hearing the rain come down in torrents. She wondered if Matt would be able to fly back tonight.
A few hours later the sound of a motor awakened her, and she lifted the window curtain beside the bed to peek out. The outside lights were ablaze, and a tall, lean man in a distinctive tan trench coat and a silverbelly Stetson was getting out of a car. He lifted an attaché case and plowed toward the house in the drenching rain. Matt!
With faint misgivings she stared down at his hard, formidable face. It was a shock to catch Matt unawares; he was almost always lighthearted and smiling when he was around Catherine. He smiled more with her than with anyone else. But when he didn’t know she was looking, he became a stranger. Matt was a puzzle she’d never solved. Most of his men were afraid of him, although he was never unfair or overly demanding. It was that air of authority he wore, the remnants of his strict upbringing.
Matt was the oldest of Evelyn’s sons from her first marriage, and from all accounts, his childhood hadn’t been an easy one. Matt’s real father had been a military man, and Matt’s early life had been spent at military academies. When his father died and Evelyn married Great-Uncle Henry, he’d stayed in the academy for another year. Then he went on to boarding school, then college, and then service in the Marine Corps, with little chance for parental love in between. Henry was a formidable man himself, and Evelyn was more businesswoman than mother.
But Matt seemed to have gotten enough love from other sources, she thought wryly, remembering the occasional woman she’d seen him with and the adoring glances that came his way. When she was in college, Catherine’s girlfriends had begged to come to the ranch, just for a glimpse of Matt.
Catherine pursed her lips and studied Matt’s tall, muscular body as he started through the gate. He was devastating physically, all right. And he had Spanish eyes, very dark and sparkling, and a deeply tanned face that was sharp-featured and aristocratic. He was something else. She tingled with pride, just looking at him, although she was ready for a fight if it was going to take one to get out from under his thumb. Part of her knew that Matt would never be able to return her tempestuous feelings for him. And it was because of that, more than anything else, that she had to escape. It was devastating to be around Matt and watch him go out with other women all the time. He seemed to have a different one every month. All of them were experienced, sensual women. Nothing like poor little Kit, who had to hide her tears from him. It would have killed her if he’d known how she really felt—that all her outbursts of anger were just defensive tactics.
“Tomorrow,” she whispered, and smiled. “Tomorrow we’ll have it out, big cousin.”
She lay back and closed her eyes.
* * *
The next morning when Catherine came down for breakfast Hal was at the breakfast table with Betty, but Matt was already out the door and gone. Hal looked up, his brown eyes sparkling in a mischievous face. At twenty-three he was the youngest of the three brothers. He was shorter than Matt and not as muscular. Hal had a good brain, when he used it, and was a whiz with machinery. But he preferred the nightspots to the ranch and slipped away at every opportunity. He played at life, and Matt had threatened to throw him off the property because of his penchant for playing practical jokes. But he was loveable, for all his wicked ways, and Catherine had a soft spot for him. In her younger days, he’d been her staunchest ally in dodging Matt’s temper.
“Hi, cousin!” he grinned. “How was the big city?”
“Great!” She sat down and filled her plate. “I got a job!” She told him all about it, enjoying his amazed look as she talked.
“Have you told Matt?” he asked after a minute, his gaze quietly curious.
“I haven’t seen him yet.”
Hal pursed his lips. “She doesn’t know?” he asked Betty.
Catherine cocked her head at him. “Know what?” she asked hesitantly.
“Matt found out where you really were. He’s stopped your allowance.”
“Oh, Hal, why did you do that!” Betty groaned.
Catherine’s eyes sparkled with passion as she threw down her napkin. “Stopped my allowance? He can’t! Those shares are mine!”
“He can do what he likes until you’re twenty-five,” Hal said.
“Where is he?” Catherine demanded.
“Down on the flats, checking to make sure the cattle were all moved before the rains came,” Betty said reluctantly. “He told Hal to get them moved before he left for Houston.”
Hal didn’t reply. He looked disturbed and reached for his coffee cup.
Catherine didn’t notice. She was fuming. She needed that allowance to set herself up in New York. She wouldn’t have any money until her first paycheck. And Matt knew it!
“I’ll shoot him,” she muttered.
“Now, darling, don’t be hasty,” Betty said, trying to soothe her.
But Catherine was already on her way upstairs to change into jodhpurs and boots.
Chapter Two (#ulink_8d6a11ae-358c-5d14-b19d-999846bbf08d)
The sunlight was wonderful after the thundering flood of late-summer rain the night before, but Catherine wasn’t paying the least attention to the beauty of the wide open land and grazing cattle or the distant enormity of the feedlot. Her narrowed green eyes were flashing, and the set of her slender body in the saddle was as rigid as her perfect mouth.
She shivered a little in the early-morning chill. Autumn was coming on. Already the hardwoods were beginning to get crisp leaves on them. She searched the horizon for Matt, but he was nowhere to be seen. She could have screamed. There were times when being part of the Kincaid clan was an absolute torment, and this was one of them. She had a great future in New York in public relations. Why couldn’t Matt let her go after it? Of course, he didn’t know about the New York job offer, but what he’d done would prevent her from going anywhere without his approval. It was always like that. She made plans and Matt fouled them up. He’d done it for years, and nobody had ever stood up to him. Except Catherine, of course.
This time he wasn’t having it all his own way. The fact that he was the chief stockholder in the Kincaid Corporation was irrelevant. Even the fact that she was madly in love with him was irrelevant. He wasn’t going to get away with telling her how to live her life.
She spotted movement down on the soggy river flats, where a few red-coated, white-faced Herefords were mired in mud, and she smiled coldly. She saw only a couple of his men, and that was just as well; she didn’t really want an audience.
Her heartbeats quickened as she coaxed the little mare into a canter and felt the breeze tossing her straight thick dark hair in the wind. She looked good in her jodhpurs and in her neat little blue-checked shirt that left her brown arms bare, but it hadn’t been for Matthew’s sake that she’d dressed so neatly. Matthew wouldn’t notice if she did a Lady Godiva unless she scared his precious cattle. He was immune to women, she thought. Freedom was an obsession with Matt. He’d said often enough that the woman hadn’t been born who could get him in front of a minister.
Catherine had thought about that. She’d thought about making love to Matt, about feeling his hard sensuous mouth on her own. She’d daydreamed for years about it, about marrying him and living on Comanche Flats forever. But she’d learned over the years to keep her deeper longings to herself. Matt helped by ignoring her occasional stray glance that lingered too long and the quickening of her breath when he came close. She’d dated at college and had brought some of the boys home. To Betty’s frank astonishment, Matt had given them a thorough grilling, every one, and he’d set the rules about when Catherine had to be in. It was another of the domineering traits she’d once taken for granted and now resented bitterly. Matt would never want her the way a man wanted a woman. But he had control of her life, and he liked that.
At last she saw him. He was kneeling to examine a hoof of one of the cows. His dark hair was concealed by the wide brim of his hat, and he looked almost like one of the cowboys in his faded denims and chambray shirt and worn boots. But when he stood up, all comparison ended. Matt had the kind of physique that turned up once in a blue moon outside motion pictures. His broad shoulders rippled with muscle, and his lithe body had a sensual rhythm that held women’s eyes when he moved. He was long and lean and darkly tanned, and he had eyes so black that they looked like coal. His nose had been broken once or twice and looked it, and his mouth had a perpetual mocking twist that could put Catherine’s back up in seconds. His cheekbones were high, a legacy of a Comanche ancestor, and he looked as if he needed a shave even when he didn’t because the shadow of his beard was so dark. But he was immaculate for a cattleman. His nails were always trimmed and clean, and he had an arrogant, regal carriage that made Catherine think of the highlander who had come to Texas so many years ago to found the Kincaid line.
The Kincaids had been a political power in this part of the state at one time. Catherine had learned that from listening to Matt’s mother talk about Jackson Kincaid, her first husband. She was proud of Matt’s lineage and never let him forget it. The Kincaid Corporation, the remnant of a small empire, was Matt’s legacy. Evelyn had given shares in it to Great-Uncle Henry, combining both families’ interests. But it was Matt who held the power, and nobody forgot it.
Matt’s sharp ears caught the sound of her mount’s hooves, and he whirled gracefully. His grim face and dark eyes brightened at the look on her face. He tilted his hat back and propped a boot against the oak tree behind him. He leaned back, watching her with an expression that made her want to hit him.
“So there you are,” she muttered, fumbling her way out of the saddle.
“Honey, you’ll never learn to be a good rider if you don’t listen when I try to teach you things. That’s no way to come down off a horse,” he said good-naturedly.
“Don’t ‘honey’ me,” she said. She went right up to him, glaring at him, hating him, her small hands clenched at her back. “Mama told me what you’ve done. Now you listen to me, Matthew Kincaid. I just grew up, and you can stop trying to put me back in your hip pocket. I won’t fit! You gave me those shares when I turned eighteen, and you can’t take them away.”
His narrow eyebrows arched. “Who, me?” he asked innocently. Still watching her with amusement, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with maddening carelessness. “I didn’t take them away, I just had the interest you were drawing reinvested.” He grinned wider. “Look in the small print, Kit. I retained that right when I signed over the shares to you.”
Her eyes lanced into him. “What am I going to do to pay my rent in New York, beg on street corners?”
“I don’t remember any discussion about New York,” he returned at once.
She hated that smile. She knew it all too well from years past. It meant he’d dug in his heels and there wouldn’t be any moving him. Well, she’d just see about that.
“I’ve been offered a job with a very prestigious New York public relations firm,” she told him. “It wasn’t easy to get, and it was only because the father of one of my college friends works there that I was even considered. It’s a plum of a job, Matt. The salary—”
“You’re only twenty-one,” he said, pursing his lips. “And New York is a wild place for a little country girl.”
“I’m not little!”
His eyes went pointedly to her small breasts, and he grinned. “No?”
She let out a furious cry and aimed a kick at his shins with one hard-booted toe. He sidestepped with lightning grace, and she went down flat on her back in the wet grass and mud.
He grinned at the shock on her face, then flashed a look at two of his men who were riding by with curious looks on their faces.
“Better get up quick, honey, or Ben and Charlie there will think you’re trying to entice me into making love to you,” he said outrageously.
“Matthew…Dane Kincaid…I hate you…!” she sputtered as she tried to get to her feet.
He was trying to stop laughing, but without much success. His white teeth flashed and black eyes were alive in his swarthy face. He reached down to grab her wrist and jerked her to her feet. His strength was a little frightening. He looked lithe and limber, but he could have forced her to her knees if he’d flexed his hand, and she knew it. Her angry eyes scanned his hard face, her fury kindling all over again at the traces of humor she saw lingering there. She drew back a hand, but it hovered in midair.
“Hold it right there, honey,” he said, chuckling. “I don’t mind a little dirt, but if you connect with that muddy hand, I’ll hit you where it hurts most.”
“I’ll tell Mama!” she threatened.
“Betty would hold you still for me.”
He loosed her wrist, and she rubbed it, surprised at the tingling sensation that lingered after his hard fingers had withdrawn.
She tugged her long-tailed shirt out of her jodhpurs and used the hem of it to wipe off the mud. He stuck his hands on his lean hips and watched her with the infuriating superiority that clung to him like the faint mud stains on his shirt.
She sighed. “I hate you, you know.”
“No you don’t, Kit.” He grinned. “You just want your own way. And this time, you’re not getting it. I’d never forgive myself if I turned you loose in that big city all alone, fresh out of college in Forth Worth.”
“And that’s another sore spot,” she threw back at him, shivering a little in the cool air. “You hardly even let me go off to college. Not me, oh, no, I had to commute on weekends! It’s a wonder you didn’t come with me and hold my hand as I crossed streets!”
“I did think about it,” he murmured dryly.
“I’m grown up!”
“Not yet,” he corrected. His eyes went down to her breasts and lingered there, where the hard tips were visible through her thin shirt, and he smiled slowly. “But you’re getting there.”
She stared at him unblinkingly, surprised at the remark, at the way he was studying her breasts. Boys had looked at her that way when she wore swimsuits or low-cut blouses, but Matt never had. It shocked her that he’d even bothered to look. Perhaps it was just another way of getting back at her. She folded her arms over her breasts as a scarlet flush covered her cheeks. She avoided meeting his eyes.
“Hey,” he commanded softly.
“What?”
“Look at me.”
She forced her embarrassed eyes up, but he wasn’t teasing her. He looked faintly kind, for Matt.
“If you want to practice public relations, I’ll put you to work,” he said. “You can publicize my foundation sale month after next.”
“Matt, that’s not a job!”
“It’s a job,” he said firmly. “A lot of work goes into that annual sale, and a lot depends on its being a success. I usually hire an outside agency to handle it, but since you’re here, you can do it. I’ll even let you design the brochure.” He eyed her closely. “That’s a challenge, honey. Show me how capable you are, and I’ll make you a present of an apartment in New York and find you another job to boot. I’ve got some contacts of my own.”
She wavered. It was tempting. Very tempting. And if he hadn’t been trying to bend her to his will, she might have accepted his offer. But he was calling the shots, and if she made a success of the job, he’d probably find some way to make her keep working for him. She’d never get away.
So, he wanted his sale publicized, did he? She smiled faintly. Okay. She’d do it. And in such a way that he’d be more than delighted to send her on her way.
“Okay,” she agreed after a minute, her green eyes sparkling. “I’ll just take that dare.”
“I’ll start you off tomorrow morning. Be at the office eight-thirty sharp,” he replied. “Now you’d better get home and change into something a little more decent, or Betty will come after me with a shotgun.”
“I can just see you now, running for the border,” she returned dryly.
He smiled wickedly. “This far away?” he said with a chuckle. “Hell, no, I’d drive.” He pulled his hat low over his eyes. “Hadn’t you better go home and change?”
She knew when she was defeated. Green eyes glared up at him. “You’re just stifling me,” she ground out. “Smothering me! My gosh, you tie me to the house.
You grill every man I date. You won’t let me go to New York and find my own way in life—Matt, I’m a grown woman,” she said, trying to reason with him. “You’re an old bachelor…!”
His eyebrows lifted as he lit another cigarette. “Honey, I’m just thirty-one.”
“And someday you’ll be fifty-one and all alone, and what will you do then?” she asked haughtily.
He smiled slowly. “I guess I’ll start seducing kids your age.”
She opened her mouth, started to speak, thought better of it and closed her mouth with a snap.
“My, my, the fish aren’t biting today,” he said conversationally. Boldly, his dark eyes wandered slowly down the length of her slender body, assessing her; then suddenly they shot up to catch her eyes. She stared back, and the world narrowed to Matt’s face. Cows bellowed all around and cowboys whistled and called, moving them along, but she no longer noticed them. A wild tingling feeling raced through her body as she studied Matt. Never before had she looked at him so intently.
He touched the cigarette to his chiseled mouth, breaking the spell. “No comeback, Kit?” he murmured dryly.
She sighed. “I can’t fight you,” she muttered. “You just laugh at me.”
“It’s less dangerous than doing what I’d like,” he returned, his dark eyes sparkling.
“Try slinging me over your knee, cattle baron, and I’ll make you a legend in your own time with that brochure you want drawn up,” she threatened.
“No you won’t.” He threw down the cigarette and ground it out. “We’re buddies, remember?”
“We used to be. Then you started being so horrible to me,” she reminded him. She dusted off her stained jodhpurs. “God knows what I’ll tell Mama about the way I look,” she added, giving him a mischievous glance.
“Tell her you tried to seduce me,” he suggested with a wicked grin.
“That’ll be the day,” she said darkly, turning back toward her horse.
“Don’t you think you could?” he teased.
She mounted, feeling odd at the suggestion, and glanced down at him. “Actually,” she told him, “I don’t know how.”
“No experience?” he asked mockingly, but there was a serious note in his deep, drawling voice.
“I’ve been saving myself for you, didn’t you know?”
He laughed softly. “Have you?”
It was new and heady to flirt openly with Matt. She’d never done it before. She wrapped the reins gently around one hand and stilled the nervous little mare, patting her neck as she talked softly to her. Her amused eyes met Matt’s. “Better lock your door at night.”
His dark eyes twinkled with new lights. “I do. I’ve been terrified of you since you graduated from high school.”
“Have you really?” She grinned. “I did notice all the women you gathered around you to protect yourself from me.”
He didn’t smile. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“Your suitors have been conspicuous by their absence the past few months,” he remarked.
She lifted her shoulders. “Jack gave me up in the early summer,” she said. “He was afraid you’d kill him if he tried anything with me. He even said so.”
He looked toward the cowboys, who were starting to drive cattle through a nearby opening in the fence. “I’ve got work to do, honey.”
“Conference over.” She sighed. “You never talk to me.”
He looked up, and something in his black eyes made her nervous. “I may do that—sooner than you think, little Kit.” His gaze grew piercing, searching. “After all, you’re straining at the bonds for the first time. You’ll fly away if I’m not careful.”
“I’m not a bird, you know,” she said pleasantly.
“More of a tadpole,” he murmured.
“You call me a frog again, and I’ll tell Hal and Jerry,” she threatened.
“Tadpole, not frog. Go ahead and tell them,” he challenged, smiling. “Remember me, Kit? I’m the black sheep.”
“Some black sheep. You’re the one with the brains and the strong back,” she had to admit, softening as she looked down at him. His face was creased with harsh lines that neither of his brothers had. It was always Matt who’d had the lion’s share of the responsibility. Hal did what he pleased, and Jerry did what he could, but he didn’t have Matt’s business sense and was intelligent enough to admit it.
“Was I asking for a vote of confidence?” he asked with mock astonishment.
“You never would. But you’ve got mine,” she said with a soft smile.
He seemed to tauten at the softness in her voice. “Risky, Kit, looking at me that way,” he said with a faint smile. “I might go crazy right here.”
“You, go crazy over a woman?” she asked with a laugh. “That’ll be the day. Anyway, it would take someone with experience and pizzazz. I’m just your pesky stepcousin.”
“You’re a beauty, young Catherine,” he returned, and seemed to really mean it. She colored gently at the masculine appreciation in the look he gave her. “Quality, all the way.”
“You’re not bad yourself, cowboy,” she murmured demurely. “I have to go home and change. I thought I’d go see a movie later.”
“Did you? What kind of movie?”
“There’s one of those very adult shows at the drive-in,” she confided. “I thought I’d take Hal and educate him.”
His face went hard all at once, and the sudden eclipse of humor surprised her. “No,” he said quietly. “Not Hal. If you go to any drive-ins, I’ll take you. And not tonight. I’ve got a date already. I’ll take you Friday.”
It was like sticking her finger in an electric socket. She simply stared at him. “What?”
“I said I’ll take you to the movies Friday, Kit,” he replied, and grinned at her. “I’m not letting you corrupt Hal. Besides, he’s too young for you.”
She burst out laughing. She must have imagined his sudden anger, she told herself. Matt had only been teasing all along.
“I suppose he is,” she had to admit. “Are you?”
His mouth curled. “What do you think, honey?” he asked in a tone he’d never used with her before. It was like velvet. Soft. Honey smooth. Seductive.
She stared down at him curiously. “You’re too old for drive-ins,” she said slowly.
He shook his head. “We’ll take the pickup and I’ll buy you a pizza. It will rejuvenate me,” he added with a grin.
“I can just see you at a drive-in,” she murmured. Her green eyes flirted with his dark ones. “Okay. But I won’t kiss you if you drink beer.”
His eyebrows lifted and something flashed in his eyes. He laughed gently. “Okay.”
She’d shocked herself with her impulsive remark, and now she felt embarrassed. As if Matt would want to kiss her! But her eyes fell to his hard mouth as if of their own accord, and she stared at his lips with unexpected curiosity. She looked up in time to see a wildness in his eyes. A shock of electric current linked them, making her want to dive down into his arms and kiss his hard, sexy mouth until the aching of her young body stopped. And that shocked her enough that she dragged her eyes away.
“You did mean what you said, about letting me go to New York if I do a good job on your sale?” she persisted.
He turned back toward his men. “I meant it.”
“Matt—”
“Hey, Charlie, bring the truck for this one!” he called to an old cowboy and he gestured toward a downed cow farther along the trail.
She sighed in irritation. Well, that was that, he’d just forgotten that she was alive. That was his response to discussions he didn’t want. He just walked away from them. She glared at his back for a long moment before she suddenly wheeled her mount and started toward the ranch.
Well, at least she had a chance to escape now. Her face burned as she remembered what she’d said to him about the drive-in. She’d probably shocked him with that silly remark about kissing him.
She shifted in the saddle, thinking about going to a drive-in with Matt. Her body tingled with delight at the prospect. He’d never taken her anywhere alone. And probably he wasn’t going to now, either. He’d invite one of the family to go with them. And why would he take the pickup?
Matt bothered her. He puzzled her. He was a cutup, a wild man—except when he was being Mr. Kincaid. She’d seen him do that. She’d watched him put down men who thought they could walk all over him because he seemed easygoing. There was a white-hot temper and a will like iron underneath his good humor.
Worrying about things wasn’t going to help, she told herself. She’d do better to concentrate on how to promote the cattle sale. It was her only chance of escape from her family. And from Matt. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life waiting for him. She couldn’t live near him and watch him marry someone else—and he would eventually. The corporation would have to have an heir, and he was in control. Probably it would be some sophisticated socialite with holdings of her own. A merger more than a marriage.
She leaned forward over the little mare’s mane and gave her her head as they went toward the barn.
Chapter Three (#ulink_6ca2fcc1-4a0a-5902-8f29-76557f58f86f)
Jerry and Barrie were at supper that night. Jerry, like Hal and Matt, had dark eyes, but he alone of the three had sandy-blond hair and a receding hairline. He was taller than Hal, but not as tall as Matt. Barrie was redheaded and blue eyed and very petite and mischievous. Catherine had always adored her.
As Annie waddled in with the salads, Catherine allowed Hal to seat her, and she noted his thoughtful glances. Matt hadn’t made an appearance yet, and Catherine found herself watching the doorway, waiting. She knew he was going out, that he wouldn’t be joining them for the evening meal, but she couldn’t help watching for him. Habits were hard to break. She looked down at her blue shirtwaist dress and imagined I Adore Matt written all over it with a felt-tip marker. That was vaguely amusing and she laughed.
“That’s better,” Hal murmured. “You were looking solemn, little cousin.”
“Who, me?” She gaped. “I’m never solemn.”
“I know,” he returned.
“Betty said you were trying to go to New York to work,” Jerry said, glancing at her. He smiled absently. “I knew you’d only come to grief.”
“How?”
“I know my brother. Matt keeps you on a short leash, doesn’t he?”
Catherine glared at him. “I can do what I please. As it happens,” she said to save face, “Matt’s offered me a job. I’m organizing the foundation sale.”
“Darling, how lovely!” Barrie exclaimed. “You’ll do a grand job.”
“You and your cattle hang-up,” Jerry growled at her. “I can see you now, leading that prize bull of yours around, with the baby under one arm—when you ever decide to have a baby.”
“Don’t be silly, my love,” Barrie murmured, peering up at him. “I’ll have the baby in one of those carry things they wear these days. He’ll learn the business from the ground up.” She elbowed her husband. “Anyway, what do you mean, ‘when I decide to have a baby’? How can I? You’re never at home. It takes two,” she added with a poisonous smile.
Jerry cleared his throat and offered Betty the rolls.
Catherine and Hal exchanged amused glances just as Matt walked in. It was obvious he’d changed for his date, because he was wearing a dark dinner jacket with a red tie. He looked so devastating that Catherine had to drop her eyes.
“Hal, I’d like a word with you,” he said without preamble.
Hal looked uncomfortable and made a face, but he got up and went with his stern older brother out into the hall. The door closed and everyone exchanged puzzled glances.
“He didn’t move those cattle like Matt told him,” Barrie volunteered with a grimace. “At least four of them drowned.”
So that was what Matt had been doing on the flats, Catherine thought suddenly, amazed that she hadn’t connected the mired cattle with Hal’s disobedience. Poor old Hal, she thought. Matt would eat him alive.
“Will he ever grow up?” Jerry grumbled. “He plays at life.”
“He’s very young, dear,” Betty intervened.
Catherine was just about to rush to his defense, too, just as a loud voice broke the silence in the hall, followed by a thump and a hard thud. Catherine jumped to her feet and opened the door to find Hal just picking himself up from the floor. Matt was standing over him, unruffled, his face like stone, his eyes blazing with anger. He glanced at Catherine, and he was a stranger again, all authority and bristling masculinity. He laughed curtly.
“Florence Nightingale to the rescue,” he chided. “Pick him up and pet him, if you like, but do it damned fast. He’s leaving for Houston. And if he doesn’t straighten out his priorities while he’s there,” he added with a cold glare at Hal, who was gingerly touching his jaw, “he can damned well stay in Houston.”
“My God, it was only four head—” Hal began.
“One head would have been one too many,” Matt replied.
“Jerry and I have a stake in the corporation, too,” Hal shot back. “You’re not the whole show!”
“I am until you can carry your share of the load,” Matt returned. “Grow up!”
Hal got to his feet and glared at the taller man. “The iron man, aren’t you?” He laughed mirthlessly. “No chinks in your armor, no human weaknesses. Not even a weakness for a special woman.”
“You’d better phone and see if you can get a flight out of here tonight,” Matt said, ignoring the little speech.
Hal inclined his head. “Whatever you say, boss.” He fingered his jaw and glanced ruefully at Catherine. “Be sure to duck, cousin.”
Catherine watched him turn toward the stairs. She started back toward the dining room, but Matt caught her arm.
The light touch was indescribable. He came up behind her and was so close that she could hear his heavy breath as it sighed out over her hair. His fingers were steely through the soft jersey of her dress sleeve, and she couldn’t seem to get her breath.
Someone had closed the door to the dining room after she’d gone through it. Probably Jerry, she thought dazedly; he wasn’t one to eavesdrop.
“Afraid of me?” he asked at her back.
She turned and looked up at him with soft green eyes.
“No. Not really. It’s just that you seem like a stranger sometimes, Matt.”
“Hal has to learn responsibility,” he said.
“I won’t argue that,” she replied. “But he won’t ever be you.”
He sighed half-angrily. His dark eyes searched hers in the sudden stillness of the hall.
“Don’t you have a date to rush off to?” she asked pointedly.
“I have a social engagement,” he replied. He pulled out a gold cigarette case—the one she’d given him for Christmas last year—and casually lit a cigarette, as if he had all the time in the world.
“Same difference,” she said.
He shook his head, then lifted the cigarette to his smiling mouth. “It’s a formal dinner. And women weren’t included, except for the wives of the organizers.”
“You don’t owe me any explanations, Matt.” She started toward the dining room, but he drew her back with the lightest pressure of his fingers.
“No, I don’t,” he agreed. She stared at his red tie.
His fingers moved to her throat and stroked its soft elegant line, and her mouth trembled. She looked up at him with her breath sticking in her throat.
“Don’t,” she pleaded breathlessly. It was the first time he’d ever touched her like that, and it frightened her. All her wild dreams went into hiding at the reality. The uncontrolled pleasure she felt was unexpected.
“Why not?” he murmured. “Bachelors are entitled to play a little, honey,” he said with a slow smile, and his fingers stroked over a larger area, edging under the neck of her dress and onto her shoulder.
“Not with me, you don’t,” she said. She reached up to catch his fingers. “It’s not fair, Matt. Shooting fish in a barrel.”
“Why not, when it’s the only way you can get the fish at all?”
“Matt…”
He looked down at her soft, full mouth, outlined carefully with a delicate lipstick. He moved closer, the hand that held the cigarette sliding around her waist to draw her body to the length of his.
She couldn’t breathe at all now. She looked up into dark, secretive eyes and felt her body begin to throb. He’d held her before, of course, to comfort her when she cried and once to carry her over a rising stream bed. He’d even carried her to bed once when she was sick. But it had never been like this before, with his dark eyes hungry as they looked into hers and a nameless awareness between them that grew by the second.
“Have you ever been kissed properly?” he asked in a deep, gruff whisper.
Her lips parted under a rush of breath. “Of…course.”
“I like it hard,” he whispered, bending his head. “I may be rough with you at first. Don’t be frightened.”
“Matt!” Her voice sounded wild.
His fingers tilted her chin, and there was a sensuality in his face that she’d never seen before. “What are you so nervous about?” he breathed against her lips.
Her mouth felt the threat of his, and her hands clenched on his lapels as the images in her mind overwhelmed her. Her body was trembling, and he was so close to her that he had to feel it.
“So hungry,” he whispered, threatening her mouth with his without ever coming close enough to take it. “Aching for me. And all it would take is another fraction of an inch, like this,” he whispered, moving his head down so that she could breathe the minty scent of him, “and I could have you, Kit.…”
“Please,” she whimpered, stiffening as the words and his cologne and the warmth of his whipcord body all weakened her. “Matt, please, please…” She didn’t realize that she was reaching up, her cold and trembling hands at the nape of his neck, her body at fever pitch with wanting.
“Oh, no.” He laughed softly. Both hands caught her by the waist. “Not yet.”
Her eyes widened. She was shaking. Shaking! And he was smiling at her with such worldly amusement.…
“Damn you,” she said under her breath, tears threatening.
“I’m late already,” he said. “Go eat your dinner, honey. We’ll put everything on hold until tomorrow night. The movie,” he reminded her in a low whisper. “And I won’t drink beer.”
“I won’t go!” She stared at him, eyes enormous in her face, her body shaking with what he’d aroused and not satisfied.
“Yes you will.” He brushed back a strand of chestnut hair from her shoulder. His eyes held hers.
She moved away from him, fighting for composure. “I won’t be just one in a line,” she said. “I won’t let you seduce me. You’re just after a new thrill. And I’m not going to be it,” she said firmly.
He laughed deep in his throat, and his eyes were bright with amusement. “Coward,” he murmured dryly.
She flushed, and almost ran back into the dining room. Catching herself, she slowly opened the door and left him standing in the hall.
* * *
Catherine didn’t hear another word that was said to her for the rest of the night. She smiled and talked automatically, and all the while she felt Matt’s hands, the sigh of his breath on her mouth. She ached all over with strange new hungers, feeling oddly restless and irritable. And in the morning she was going to have to pretend she felt nothing because Matt was astute and it would be suicide to let him see how she felt. If only she knew what kind of game he was playing! Would he really go that far? Would he tease her just to keep her under his thumb? She lay awake until the early hours, worrying about it, more determined than ever to break free before she fell victim to his dark, sensuous charm.
Hal flew out sometime in the night and wasn’t at the breakfast table the next morning. Betty was, though. And Matt.
He watched Catherine over his second cup of coffee, his eyes mocking as she fumbled her way through bacon and eggs.
“Such a lovely day, after all that rain,” Betty was saying. “I think I’ll drive into Fort Worth and do some shopping. Catherine, can I pick up anything for you?”
“No, thank you, Mama,” Catherine replied, trying to stop her renegade heart from running wild every time Matt looked in her direction. He was wearing a three-piece gray suit, and he looked debonair and worldly.
She had on a simple short-sleeved green knit top and a skirt, and was worried that she might be overdressed for her first day on the job. “I didn’t know what to wear this morning,” she began hesitantly.
“Angel and the other girls usually wear dresses or skirts,” Matt told her. “Jack, our sales manager, wears a suit. I alternate between suits and jeans, depending on my schedule. Today I have to fly down to San Antonio, so I’m a bit more formal. But we don’t have a dress code. You can wear jeans if you like.”
“I’ll remember tomorrow. Do I get my own office?” she asked with a smile.
“You can share mine, honey. I’ve got an extra desk.” He finished his coffee. “Ready?”
“Yes. See you later, Mama,” she murmured, rising as Matt held her chair. She couldn’t help but be puzzled by his new polite behavior. Even Betty seemed to notice, but she only smiled.
It felt strange riding beside Matt in his Lincoln. He glanced at her curiously; it wasn’t like her to be so silent, so subdued.
“What’s wrong?” he asked gently as he pulled up in front of the ranch office.
“Nothing,” she said quickly and gave him a flashing smile. “I was just thinking up ideas for the sale.”
Fortunately, he took that at face value. He got out and opened her door, but he paused when she expected him to move, so that she cannoned into him.
His hands, firm and strong, caught her shoulders and he was so close that she felt his breath in her hair. He smelled of spice and tobacco, and the muscular warmth of his body enveloped her from head to toe. She couldn’t quite breathe, and she didn’t dare look up. Her heart was beating like mad.
“You’ve avoided looking at me all morning,” he said quietly. “Is it because I tried to kiss you…or because I stopped too soon?”
Her face burned in reaction. And still she couldn’t look up. Her lips parted on a rush of breath. “It’s…new.”
“Yes.”
“Matt…”
“What?”
“Just…Matt.” She lifted her face then, and her misty green eyes sought his. He seemed to stop breathing and just stared at her. He didn’t smile. His eyes searched, probed.
“Don’t be afraid of me, Kit,” he said, his voice deep and slow and soft.
“You’re a stranger.…”
He shook his head. “No. You’re just looking at me in a different way.”
“Why?” she asked, needing to know.
His hands tightened on her shoulders. “One day at a time, honey,” he said then. “Don’t ask questions until you want the answers. Let’s get to work.”
He turned her and prodded her toward the big one-story building that housed an impressive computer setup. He had four young women working for him and two salesmen. Hal, when he was in town, had his own office, as well. It was a smoothly run operation. Thousands of dollars’ worth of cattle were bought and sold without a single head being moved physically. Matt even had cattle on videocassettes so he could show them to prospective buyers out of town. It was a wildly progressive kind of business, and Matt ran it with ease.
He showed her into his private, carpeted office. The room looked like it belonged to Matt, all tough leather and earth colors and hardwood. There were two desks: his and a smaller one, where a computer and printer sat.
“You know how to use this, don’t you?” he asked, smiling amusedly.
She glared up at him. “Yes. I had one just like it at school.”
His eyes dropped to her mouth, and she was glad there were other girls working here. It kept him from doing what she really wanted him to do.
“If you have any problems with the computer, Angel can help you. She’s the brunette at the desk outside my office. She has the preliminary information on the sale, as well. Until I volunteered you, it was her job to get it together for the public relations people. Okay?”
“Okay.” She sat down and stared at the keyboard, a hundred conflicting emotions making her restless, disturbing her. She was hot despite the air-conditioning. It was already late September, but the weather was getting hotter instead of colder, if today was any indication.
“Don’t wear your hair like that tonight,” he said suddenly.
She glanced up, remembering that she had her chestnut waves in a bun on top of her head. “What?”
“Leave it loose. I hate hairpins.”
“Do you ever stop giving orders?” she asked.
“Sure. In bed.”
Her face flushed, and he smiled—a sensual, confident smile that frightened her a little. He was a predator, and she was the quarry. That was what she’d always thought she wanted, but now that it was happening, she was afraid.
“Anyway,” she continued nervously, “I’m not sure I want to go to a drive-in with you.”
“Yes, you do,” he returned. He leaned over her, surrounding her, one hand on her chair, the other on the edge of the desk. His dark face was close to hers, and she could see the hard lines in it, the twist of his firm lips, the silver sprinkled in the darkness of his straight, thick hair. His cheek was very close, and she wanted to touch its hardness.
Her eyes lifted to his and got lost there. She saw the muscles in his jaw go taut as they stared at each other, and his breathing began to get ragged.
“I want your mouth, Catherine,” he said unexpectedly. “So I think I’d better get out of here before I shock a few people.”
He stood up, and she fumbled with the papers on the desk, feeling all thumbs and inexperienced while she tried to decide if she’d just been hearing things or if he’d really said what she thought she’d heard.
“I’ll, uh, get started,” she said in a husky voice.
“You do that.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, reading the flash of uncertainty on her face. “Catherine, I won’t hurt you,” he said under his breath.
She really crimsoned then, and he sauntered out of the office, catching other pairs of eyes as he walked. He really was the most devastating man!
What was she going to do? She wanted him so much. There had never really been anyone in her heart except Matt though the only interest he’d ever shown in her before was to check out the competition. He seemed to accept it as a necessity, but he made it as uncomfortable as he could for her few dates.
She wondered at the extent of his possessiveness. He’d worked his way into her life so slowly that, before she’d realized it, he’d become her life. And he knew it. That was what hurt most, that he had her in the palm of his hand while he was still going out with a string of women. He didn’t even make a secret of it. Because, she told herself, he never got serious. He wouldn’t get serious about her, either. She’d have to keep that in mind in case she got stupid and started begging him to kiss her at the drive-in.
For the time being, she decided to concentrate all her energy on preparing the publicity she would get out for Matt’s foundation sale. And that meant she needed a list of the lots of cattle he was going to sell. She pulled them out of the computer, complete with herd numbers, lineage, weights and gaining ratios. It was a complicated business, cattle raising, but Catherine knew enough about it to get by.
She worked out a set of dates for releasing information and got together a list of potential out-of-state buyers to contact, all her tumultuous feelings forgotten in her fascination with her new job. Then she went to find Matt.
“If you’re looking for Matt, he’s already gone.” Angel sighed, chin in her hands as she stared wistfully at the door. “He’s flying down to San Antonio with his lunch date. I’ll bet it’s that Laredo real estate agent again,” she murmured. “She’s been hanging around for a month. Well, at least she’s better than the oil company executive lady from New Orleans,” she added with a bright smile.
“I didn’t know there was a current lady,” Catherine said, trying to sound lighthearted. “We never see them at the house.”
“I don’t imagine so!” Angel said meaningfully. “We only know because they call him here. This last one has been around for about three months. But I think he’s getting tired of her. He’s been dodging her calls all week.”
It was a horrible reminder of what would happen to her if she let Matt get too close, of what would happen when he tired of her innocence. He wasn’t a marrying man; he’d said so. That only left one thing he could want, and after last night, she knew she was on the endangered-species list. That almost-kiss had knocked her to her knees. She could barely imagine what it would be like if he started making love to her.
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Diana Palmer
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Love under the Texan skyUnderneath her bubbly carefree facade, there was more–much more–to the champagne girl. Catherine Blake had high personal standards, including a sense of duty to her widowed mother, which brought her back to Comanche Flats, the family ranch.Once she′d returned, her stepbrother, Matt Kincaid, only complicated matters. Matt demanded that she stay on at the ranch, under his watchful eye. But Catherine had a job offer waiting for her in New York City. There was only one thing that could keep her on a dusty cattle ranch in Texas–the love of the rangiest cowboy in the Lone Star State!