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Shut Up And Kiss Me
Sara Orwig


A man, a woman…a baby? Colonel Mike Remington wasn't a man who backed away from a challenge. But the tough, combat-hardened Special Forces officer knew he was way out of his league when he cradled an adorable baby in his arms–and an elegant, enticing lady lawyer told him he was the little girl's brand-new "daddy"….The only solution to his sudden baby problem was marriage–in name only–to the lady lawyer herself. But the more time he spent on a secluded Texas ranch with the beautiful, sensual Savannah Clay–and the more "innocent" kisses they shared–the more he ached to see this make-believe marriage turn into the real deal….









“Now I Have A New Wife And A New Business,” Mike Replied.


“Not a real wife,” Savannah said softly.

“A very real woman and one I want to get to know. I want to know what’s beneath that cool control you always show to the world.”

She smiled. “The trouble is you’re too accustomed to getting your way.”

“I won’t get my way tonight.”

“You’re a dangerous man, Mike. I’m grateful to you for what you’re doing, but I’m not giving you my body or my heart out of gratitude.”

He cocked one dark brow. “Always a challenge from you, Savannah.” He raised her hand and kissed her palm, slowly lingering.

“You know how I react to you. There’s no hiding or changing it.”

“And that makes you irresistible,” he replied.


Dear Reader,

We’re so glad you’ve chosen Silhouette Desire because we have a lot of wonderful—and sexy!—stories for you. The month starts to heat up with The Boss Man’s Fortune by Kathryn Jensen. This fabulous boss/secretary novel is part of our ongoing continuity, DYNASTIES: THE DANFORTHS, and also reintroduces characters from another well-known family: The Fortunes. Things continue to simmer with Peggy Moreland’s The Last Good Man in Texas, a fabulous continuation of her series THE TANNERS OF TEXAS.

More steamy stuff is heading your way with Shut Up And Kiss Me by Sara Orwig, as she starts off a new series, STALLION PASS: TEXAS KNIGHTS. (Watch for the series to continue next month in Silhouette Intimate Moments.) The always-compelling Laura Wright is back with a hot-blooded Native American hero in Redwolf’s Woman. Storm of Seduction by Cindy Gerard will surely fire up your hormones with an alpha male hero out of your wildest fantasies. And Margaret Allison makes her Silhouette Desire debut with At Any Price, a book about sweet revenge that is almost too hot to handle!

And, as summer approaches, we’ll have more scorching love stories for you—guaranteed to satisfy your every Silhouette Desire!

Happy reading,






Melissa Jeglinski

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire




Shut Up and Kiss Me

Sara Orwig







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




SARA ORWIG


lives in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara writes historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue




One


What other weird thing will Special Forces get me into? Michael Remington wondered as he glanced around the elegant law office that was located on the main street of San Antonio, Texas.

Dark wood walls, polished oak floor, comfortable leather chairs, and the attorney the most decorative part of all. He looked at her silky blond hair, hair that shouldn’t be confined in the twist at the back of her head. From the first few moments, when she’d stood in front of her desk, he’d noticed that the lady had fabulous long legs. Besides her legs, she had a face and figure that made a man think of the bedroom—until he looked into her big blue eyes, cold and icy as a Nordic fjord.

He barely listened while she waded through legalese, reading John Frates’s will. Mike’s best buddies from Special Forces were seated beside him: tough Jonah Whitewolf, a Comanche, one of the best bomb experts Mike had ever known; and next to him, Boone Devlin, chopper pilot deluxe.

Not long after their rescue of John Frates, the three of them had been split up, and they hadn’t seen one another until today, the first week of April. Mike was looking forward to their dinner together tonight. A reunion would be a blast, and they could thank John Frates for accomplishing the get-together. Only, John Frates and his wife were no longer living—both had died in a boating accident off the coast of Scotland. It was odd as hell to get remembered in a will simply because you did your job, Mike thought. They had rescued John Frates when he was held hostage in a Colombian jungle, but it had all been part of the mission.

When he heard his name read, Mike’s attention returned to the attorney. She was a looker, but the minute he’d walked into her office, they’d clashed. Although he knew there were plenty of female attorneys, he had assumed from her letter, signed S. T. Clay, that she was male. But S. T. Clay was very much female and she had resented his mistaken assumption. If it meant that much to her, she should sign her letters as Savannah Clay. There was no wedding ring on her finger, and Mike wasn’t surprised. She might be gorgeous, but she was none too friendly.

“‘To Michael Remington,”’ the attorney read in her brisk, no-nonsense voice, “‘to whom I shall be forever indebted, I leave my most precious possession, the guardianship of my baby daughter, Jessie Lou Frates.”’

A jolt shot through Mike with the impact of a current of electricity. Stunned, he stared at Savannah Clay. He couldn’t get his breath, he broke out in a sweat, his ears began to ring and he was unable to hear anything else she said.

Jessie Lou Frates? A baby? He was bequeathed the care of a baby girl? John Frates had called him about a will, but he hadn’t said anything about a baby. As far as Mike knew, there hadn’t been a baby at the time John called him.

Mike knew absolutely nothing about babies. He’d never wanted to be tied down that way. In his military career he had been through all sorts of life-or-death situations, and he had never felt as light-headed or as nervous as he was right now.

He barely heard the rest of the reading of the will, nor the questions the others asked when it was done. Finally Savannah Clay looked at him.

“You’re very quiet, Colonel Remington. Any questions?”

He gazed into those crystal-blue eyes—fabulous eyes, he thought fleetingly. “Yes, I have a lot of questions. If you have a few moments, I’ll stay when the others leave so I don’t take up their time.”

The guys protested, but with a wave of her hand Miss Clay silenced them.

It was another thirty minutes before she closed the door behind them and turned to him. When she did, he rose to his feet to face her across the office.

“I’m not taking any baby,” Mike declared. “John Frates never said anything about a baby.”

“I understood that he did call you,” she replied smoothly.

“Several years ago he called me and said he had recently married and they were writing wills and he wanted to leave something to me, but he didn’t say one thing about a child,” Mike repeated stubbornly.

Savannah Clay studied Mike with a look that made him think she didn’t believe him. “When Jessie was born, John and his wife rewrote their first wills.” The attorney crossed the room to return to the seat behind her desk, and in spite of the shock he’d just received, Mike could not help noticing the sexy sway of her hips as she walked. She motioned to him. “Please sit down.”

“I can’t be responsible for a baby,” Mike repeated, wondering how long it would take to get through to her.

“You’ll be completely provided for by this will. You’ll have the Stallion Pass house, a trust fund for Jessie, a trust for daily living and a million and a third dollars goes into your account tomorrow,” she replied as if explaining something simple to a small child.

“Don’t put anything into my account,” Mike snapped. “Aren’t you listening? I’m not becoming a guardian to this child.”

“The Frateses don’t have any relatives,” Savannah stated. “There is no one else to take her. She’s only five months old.” The color that heightened her cheeks only added to the good looks he was trying to ignore. She spoke slowly and firmly, as though he was hard of hearing or just too dense to get what she was trying to explain to him. “She’ll become a ward of the state otherwise.”

“I’m sorry, but she’ll have to become a ward of the state,” he replied tersely. “It doesn’t change how I feel. There are a lot of children out there that are wards of the state, but I’m not taking any of them, either.”

Fire flashed in the depths of blue ice as Savannah’s eyes narrowed. “John Frates had the very highest opinion of you, and he placed his faith and trust in you. He praised you beyond measure.”

“That’s certainly flattering, and I appreciate his opinion, but the guy was grateful because we rescued him. It doesn’t change my decision.” Mike’s tone was forceful.

“Look at this.” She shuffled through papers and yanked out an envelope, then came around the desk. She turned a chair and moved close beside him, and he caught a whiff of enticing perfume. When she crossed her legs, his attention was briefly distracted, caught and held momentarily by her long, shapely legs.

Savannah pulled out a picture and placed it on his knee, and the slight contact caused a different kind of jolt, one that settled in a region below his belt. “This is Jessie,” Savannah said.

He looked at a picture of a smiling, dimpled baby with curly ringlets of black hair, twinkling blue eyes and rosy cheeks.

“She’s adorable, but I’m not changing my mind.”

“May I ask why?” Savannah twisted to face him. Their knees were almost touching, and he was aware of her as a very appealing woman, if an annoying one.

“I’m single. I value my freedom and I don’t know anything about kids,” he replied.

“Maybe it’s time you learned.”

His annoyance rose a notch. “No, this isn’t the right time for a baby in my life. I’m getting ready to join the CIA. I’ll be traveling. I can’t be encumbered with a baby.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That’s incredibly selfish of you, Colonel Remington. You’re turning down a generous income, a home, a precious baby, simply because you value your freedom?”

“You’re getting it now,” he said. The woman had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen and the most fabulous legs. And he couldn’t wait to get away from her and this unwanted legacy.

“Have you already joined the CIA?” she asked.

“Not yet, but that’s beside the point.”

“You’re single. Is there a woman in your life?” she persisted.

“Not at the moment.”

“I’m not surprised,” she said coolly, and Michael’s temper boiled over.

“Look, Miss Clay, you’re not exactly a bundle of warmth yourself. Obviously you’re single, and I’m not surprised by that, either.”

To his amazement, she laughed. Beautiful white teeth, a sparkle in her eyes. More appealing than ever. He wanted to gnash his teeth. Attila the Hun packaged as an alluring woman. “Ah, I’m getting to you,” she said with cheerful satisfaction. “You’re losing that cool control. It means your guilty conscience is at work.”

“It means no such thing,” he said, watching her dazzling smile. It took his breath away.

Glancing at her watch, she said, “It’s late. Come have a drink and dinner with me, and we can discuss this issue further,” she announced, standing.

“No thanks,” he replied as she shed her suit jacket, unclipped her hair and shook her head. Blond hair cascaded over her shoulders and fell onto a creamy silk blouse clinging to curves that made him momentarily forget his animosity. She had a waist he could easily span with both hands.

“Do you often turn down a woman’s invitation for a dinner date? Or are you scared I might win you over to my way of thinking?” Savannah asked him.

He arched an eyebrow and wanted to give that cute fanny a swat. If he had any sense, he would answer yes and get the hell out of her office and life. But she was standing there with golden hair falling over her shoulders, a challenging gleam in her blue eyes and a figure that would make most men forget all the problems in the world.

“No, I don’t turn down offers from beautiful women,” he said quietly, standing and placing his hands on his hips. “I’m not scared, but you’ll never win me over to your way of thinking on this.”

“Never is a long time, Colonel.”

“All right, since we’re going to dinner, let’s drop the formalities. It’s Mike, Savannah.”

“Fine,” she said, granting him another one of her dazzling smiles. “Sit down, Mike. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

She gave orders as casually as a drill sergeant. Far more polite, but with that same authority and absolute expectation of being obeyed. Mike walked around the office, not really curious about the place, but simply being obstinate because she had told him to sit. As she disappeared through the door, he glimpsed a leather sofa and a wet bar. She must have a very successful practice.

While he studied a painting, he called the hotel where he and his two buddies were staying to talk to Boone. “I need to talk to this attorney tonight about my inheritance,” he told him, “and I’m going to have to cancel our dinner. This is crazy. I can’t deal with a baby.”

“You looked like you’d been shot,” Boone said.

“I felt like it,” Mike admitted.

“I think all three of us are a little in shock, Mike. None of us expected this. Let’s get together another time—how about breakfast, eight o’clock, hotel restaurant?”

“Great,” Mike replied. “See you then. Tell Jonah for me, would you.”

“Sure.”

Shutting off his phone, Mike continued to stroll around Savannah’s office, reading the spines of the law books lining the shelves, studying oil paintings of seascapes and all the while remembering the first few moments of his arrival. A few hours ago, he had entered the one-story brick building with gold lettering over the doors that read Slocum and Clay, Attorneys at Law.

Mike had walked through the front doors into a spacious waiting room and told the attractive brunette receptionist that he had an appointment with S. T. Clay. She had told him to go right in, that he was expected and it was the first door on the right.

He had walked down the hall to the door, knocked lightly and went inside. The tall blonde that turned to face him had smiled. Her blue eyes were riveting, the color of tropical seas.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for the office of S. T. Clay. Are you his secretary?”

“I’m S. T. Clay,” she replied, crossing the room and extending her hand. “Savannah Clay.”

His brows arched. “Oh. I expected a man.”

“Instead, you’ve got a woman,” she replied coolly. “And you must be Colonel Remington.”

“How’d you guess?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“John Frates gave me brief descriptions of all of you. He said you were a direct, take-charge type.”

Mike could feel a clash of wills already. He shook her hand. He expected a hard grip, and she didn’t disappoint him.

“I’ve been direct,” he replied quietly, amused. “I don’t think I’ve begun to take charge yet.”

“And you won’t in my office,” she replied just as quietly, giving him a faint smile, and again he experienced the silent clash of wills. “Please be seated. I’ll be with you in a moment.” She’d left the room and he’d walked to one of the leather chairs, thinking that he could tell the lady a bit about herself from this first encounter. He suspected no one was more of a take-charge type than she was….

Mike brought himself out of his reverie, knowing that from the first he’d gotten off on the wrong foot with the woman. Still, the evening might be interesting. He wondered if kissing her would be like kissing an ice sculpture…or was there a real woman there beneath the ice?

You’ll never know, he told himself silently.

And then Savannah returned and he rose to his feet, his recollections forgotten. “Sorry to take so long. I had to make a few calls,” she said. They left her office. As they walked through the hallway, a tall, blond, deeply tanned man stepped from his office with an attractive redheaded woman beside him.

“Troy, Liz, I’m taking a client to dinner,” Savannah said. “This is Colonel Remington. Mike, this is my partner, Troy Slocum, and one of our associates, Liz Fenton.”

Mike shook hands with them both. Troy Slocum, dressed in a dark blue suit and exuding success and self-confidence, said, “So you’re the fantastic Colonel Remington, the man John Frates thought so much of.”

“I don’t believe ‘fantastic’ fits, but that happens sometimes when you save someone’s life. I was only doing my job,” Mike replied, slightly wary of Troy. He wondered why, since he had never met the man before. But his instincts were seldom wrong.

“If you two will excuse us, Liz and I have a conference call,” Troy said abruptly.

Savannah and Mike said goodbye and turned away.

“Did I do something to him?” Mike asked.

“Pay no attention to Troy. Even though he has no reason to be, he’s jealous of other people’s success.”

“How many partners and associates?” Mike asked, dismissing the incident from his mind as they walked to the door.

“Troy is my only partner, and we have one other associate besides Liz—Nathan Williams.”

Enjoying watching Savannah, Mike followed her out and motioned toward the rental car he was driving.

“I’ll drive,” she said, jingling keys. “I know where we’re going.”

He wondered if she was going to rush ahead and hold the car door for him, but she didn’t. While he held her door, she slid inside, giving him another glimpse of shapely legs. He went around and slid into the passenger seat.

“Tell me about your life, Colonel,” she said after they had turned into the street.

“Mike, remember?”

“Mike, tell me about your life.”

“I recently got out of the military, so my life is changing. I suspect you already know some things about me.”

“Right. You’re thirty-six, born in Montana and went to the Air Force Academy before joining the military. You’re single, very smart. You have a younger brother, Sam, who lives in San Jose. You have another younger brother, Jake, who lives in West Texas. Your parents have moved to California. That’s about it. Your history leaves lots of blanks.”

“Not so many,” he said, turning to watch her drive. To the eye she was a gorgeous babe, but the moment she opened her mouth, the lawyer was revealed, and what was really beneath all that pretty packaging—an aggressive, tough, no-nonsense woman.

She drove fast and competently with her window open and the wind blowing her golden hair. She knew he was watching her, but it evidently didn’t disturb her. What was it between them that made the sparks fly? That made him feel repelled and attracted at the same time?

“So, how about you tell me about you, Savannah? I don’t know anything, except you’re the Frateses’ attorney.”

“I went to Stanford for my undergraduate degree, and then to Texas University for my law degree. I have three brothers and three sisters.”

“A big family.”

“I suppose we are,” she replied.

“And you’re the oldest?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Why did you guess oldest?”

“You’re a take-charge type.”

“Actually, I’m the fourth child. I’m was born in Stallion Pass.”

“The same place John Frates is from,” Mike said.

“That’s right. That’s how I knew him,” she said, growing quiet while she concentrated on driving. In minutes they parked and entered a restaurant with checkered tablecloths, candles on the tables and the smell of fresh-baked bread filling the air. “I should have asked—do you like Italian?”

“Of course,” he answered as he held her chair.

When they were seated and had given their dinner orders, Mike studied her. “Now, tell me more about you and Stallion Pass, Texas. You don’t seem like the small-town type.”

“I’m very much the small-town type. I love Stallion Pass. John Frates’s family businesses have really made Stallion Pass the town it is. Well, there are other businesses and families that contribute to it, but the Frateses did a lot. He had the oil company, Frates Oil, which he sold last year. He remained as CEO so they will simply replace him, and that wasn’t part of the will. He had the home that you received, the quarter-horse ranch and the cattle ranch—”

“Two ranches?”

She gave him a quizzical look. “Didn’t you listen as I read the will?”

“Actually, no,” Mike admitted. “After you announced I was inheriting a kid, I went into shock and didn’t hear anything more you read. I wouldn’t even think that kind of thing’s legal.”

“Of course it’s legal to appoint a guardian. John might not have told you about it, but I know he intended to.”

“Well, tell me what the other guys got, then. Did it occur to you that one of them might take little Jessie?”

“We’ll get to that,” she said, her cool, I’m-in-charge voice returning. “Jonah Whitewolf got the cattle ranch. He can do with it whatever he wants—sell it, keep it or lease it.”

“I’d guess Jonah will sell it. John Frates should have discussed all this with us in more detail.”

“I don’t think he dreamed that anything would happen to both him and his wife. Boone Devlin inherits the quarter-horse ranch—it’s famous nationwide for its horses.”

Mike shook his head. “Boone and a horse ranch. He grew up on a farm and wanted to get away from it. The flyboy is nuts about planes. He won’t leave his air-charter service. John Frates should have talked to all of us and talked to others who would have been better choices for these inheritances.”

“Once again, you’re making snap judgments.”

“Maybe, but I know these guys as well as I know myself. We knew Frates was worth a lot, but not this much.”

“The Frates family was enormously wealthy, and when John sold the oil company, he received a lot more.” She leaned forward, candlelight flickering in the depths of her eyes. For an instant, Mike was drowning in blue. His gaze lowered to her mouth, and he wondered if there was a woman beneath all that pushy, do-it-my-way exterior. What was she like in a man’s arms? He leaned closer.

“Ever been in love, Counselor?”

If the question surprised her, she hid it well. She gave him a smile. “Maybe once in college, but not since.”

“No steady guy now?”

“No,” she replied, looking amused. “Going to ask me for a date?”

He smiled at her, and they both laughed. “I didn’t think so,” she said. She caught his wrist and the touch was electrifying to him. He took a deep breath, surprised at his reaction.

“Tell me something.”

“Whatever you want to know,” he said in a husky voice, beginning to wonder what it would be like to have a real date with her.

Those blue eyes nailed him. “If John Frates had called you and asked if you would be little Jessie’s guardian, what answer would you have given him?”

Startled, all Mike’s erotic thoughts vanished. He was staring into eyes that probed, accused and demanded an answer. What if John Frates had called and asked him to take his baby?

“I can’t answer that, because he didn’t call,” Mike replied.

“You won’t answer my question because if her father had called and asked you, you would have agreed to become her guardian,” Savannah said in a voice dripping with satisfaction.

“I damn well would not have,” he snapped, moving his wrist away from her grasp and leaning back in his chair. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Are you a trial lawyer?”

“Occasionally,” she answered, and Mike could imagine her nailing a witness and using that same satisfied tone. She looked down at her purse and whipped out the picture again. “Look at this little baby. How can you refuse? You would have all the money in the world and could hire five nannies for her if you wanted.”

“You think a dad who hands a baby over to nannies all the time is better than a foster home?”

“Yes! In foster care, she’d be shuffled around. If you had her, you’d care and you’d be responsible,” Savannah answered heatedly, her eyes flashing. “Underneath that selfish exterior, there must be some heart—John saw that in you. I’ve known John all my life, and he was a good man and a very smart man. He didn’t misjudge people.”

“Give it up, Counselor. I’m not taking that baby,” Mike replied, wondering how many times he was going to have to refuse.

Savannah put away the picture and leaned back while he drank some wine. He wished he had ordered something stronger. When their dinners came, he ate golden, cheese-covered lasagna in silence, thankful she had stopped badgering him but still annoyed with her for calling him selfish.

As soon as they finished, she picked up the check and drove him to his hotel.

“You gave it your best shot,” he said before he stepped out of the car. “Sorry, but you can do something else with that inheritance.”

“It’s not that simple. Can you come by my office in the morning while we work out details?”

“Sure.” He sat staring at her, thinking she was a beautiful woman sitting only a couple of feet away. His gaze dropped to her mouth, but he knew better than to try a kiss. “Night, Counselor.”

“I don’t know how you’ll be able to sleep, or even look at yourself in the mirror.”

“I’ll sleep just fine, thank you. Do you always butt into people’s lives like this?” he asked.

“Of course not—this is a big exception,” she said, studying him intently. “I still think John saw something in you that I’m not seeing.”

“I hauled his ass out of the jungle—it was a job. The man was grateful to have his life back, but gratitude can blind people.”

“Not John. He told me about spending weeks with you guys because the escape didn’t go as planned. He said that, in the life-threatening circumstances all of you were in, you really get to know someone. He said he knew he could depend on you completely.”

“Well, too bad he’s not here to know how much I’ve let him down. Good night and start thinking of someone else for that particular inheritance.”

He climbed out of the car and closed the door, leaning down to speak to her through the open window. “Thanks for dinner.”

She glared at him, put the car in gear and drove away. He stared after her and still wondered what it would be like to kiss her. His flight back to D.C. didn’t leave until three o’clock tomorrow afternoon, but when it did, he would be on it, and he wasn’t coming back to Stallion Pass or San Antonio, Texas, again. He had to see the lady lawyer one more time and then it was goodbye forever.

Savannah took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and trying to cool her anger. “Stubborn, selfish man!” she snarled aloud, gritting her teeth and thinking about the adorable little five-month-old girl who needed a guardian. Savannah glanced in her rearview mirror and saw Mike Remington walking into his hotel. Too handsome for words. She hated to acknowledge that, but he exuded sex appeal with his rugged good looks, raven hair and thickly lashed, dark-brown bedroom eyes. He had too much confidence, and she suspected he was accustomed to having women melt whenever he was around. A few times tonight when they’d touched, she’d hated that she’d gone all tingly; she hoped she’d been able to hide it well. She didn’t want him to make her tingly. She wished to remain aloof and frosty with him, so why hadn’t she?

There had to be a way to persuade Mike Remington to take Jessie. John Frates was never off the mark in his assessment of other people—not like this. John had seen something in the man that had made him think Mike was the right man to take responsibility for little Jessie.

Whatever John had seen, Savannah knew she wasn’t finding it. Mike Remington seemed almost hostile, and totally wrapped up in himself and his own life. He wasn’t going to be charitable or generous. And he was going to walk away from a million-dollars-plus inheritance. What kind of man did that? She couldn’t figure him out at all. She knew what John had said about him—that he was tough, fearless and intelligent. Now she could add selfish and stubborn to the list. Yet, how many truly selfish people would pass on a million and a third dollars?

Of the three men in her office this afternoon, Mike Remington seemed the least likely man to be the guardian of a child.

Maybe when Mike slept on it, he would change his mind. She knew better than to really believe that, though.

Savannah drove to the redbrick condo she owned in San Antonio. On weekends she went home to Stallion Pass, but during the week, it was easier to stay in the city.

She parked in her garage and entered through the back door, going in the short entryway to her kitchen. As she got herself a glass of water, she paced around her empty, lonely kitchen. She finally set her empty glass on the tile counter and went through the living room to her bedroom. As she readied herself for bed, her mind was still on Mike Remington. She couldn’t seem to get him or the problem out of her thoughts.

An hour later she sat up in a rumpled bed, staring into the dark and still thinking about Mike and Jessie. She had been conscious of Mike as an attractive man from the start. When she’d touched him, she’d felt the shock of that contact to her toes. She suspected he had that effect on most females.

She’d told him she needed to see him again, but that had been desperation talking. She prayed she could get the state caseworker to cooperate tomorrow. Surely there was some way to melt Mike Remington’s hard heart.

As Savannah sat there in the dark, she was chilled by a deep, unsettling hurt that she hadn’t experienced in years, and she knew what was making her fight so hard for little Jessie.

She recalled her family, her mother and father, her six siblings. All of them, except the three youngest children, were adopted. When she was four, her blood father had walked out. Then when she was five, her mother had abandoned her, as well, sending her to a neighbor’s house and not coming back for her. That old hurt had dimmed, but she could remember the incredible pain and panic, the shock. The number of foster families she had been shuffled through for more than a year and a half—until Amy and Matt had adopted her and taken her into an unbelievably warm and loving home. Savannah shivered and rubbed her arms until old fears and hurts vanished.

In spite of trying to put Jessie and Colonel Remington out of her mind, Savannah slept little and was up before the sun.

Bathed and dressed for work by eight o’clock, she studied herself in the mirror as she smoothed her navy suit. She wore simple pearl earrings and a pearl necklace. Her hair was in a twist on her head. She thought she looked quite businesslike. Her thoughts jumped to Mike and the way he’d looked at her yesterday when she’d taken her hair down and removed her suit jacket. Her pulse jumped at the memory and she frowned, shaking her head. Glancing at the clock, she rushed to the phone to call the caseworker. Savannah knew it was only two hours till her appointment with Mike Remington. This would be her last chance with him, so she needed to make it count.




Two


Mike showered, dressed in a navy sport shirt and jeans, then went downstairs to meet his friends in the hotel lobby. He spotted the two tall men the instant he stepped out of the elevator. After greeting one another, they went to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. It wasn’t until they’d ordered that the talk turned to their respective legacies, Mike’s in particular.

“So how’s it feel to suddenly become a father?” Jonah asked.

Mike shook his head and met Jonah’s gaze squarely. “I’m not going to do it.”

“You’re turning down your bequest?” Boone asked in disbelief.

“I can’t take care of a baby,” Mike said. “Maybe one of you guys?”

“What? Swap inheritances?” Boone’s eyes danced with amusement. “I don’t think the lady lawyer would go for that. She’s all business.”

“She’s as tough as my dad,” Jonah remarked dryly. “No messing with her.”

“Well, count me out, anyway,” Boone said as he leaned back in his seat. “I’ve been there and done that with my kid brothers and sisters. No thank you.”

“Boone, you’re the oldest of nine. You’d be perfect.”

“The hell you say!” Boone snapped. “No more changing diapers for me. I’ve been a daddy eight times. Forget it.”

“How about you?” Mike asked, looking at Jonah.

Jonah shook his head. “I’m going home to Oklahoma, and from there I’ve got to go overseas in four days. Besides, the thought of a ranch is kinda intriguing.”

“What do you know about ranching?” Boone teased. “Next to nothing.”

“Not exactly. My granddaddy had a ranch and I lived with him off and on when I was a kid. Besides, ranching runs in my Comanche blood,” Jonah replied with a grin of his own.

“Oh, sure,” Boone said with a brief laugh, shifting his attention back to Mike. “Looks like you’re stuck, pal. Sorry.”

“I’ll get out of it,” Mike said grimly, more of a promise to himself than his buddies.

“And give up all that money?”

“The money’s not worth it. I’ll make my own money.”

The waiter brought their breakfasts, and Mike looked at his friends. Jonah was the same as the last time Mike had seen him, except it was only April and already the sun had darkened his skin considerably. His straight black hair was cut short and neatly combed, and the T-shirt he wore revealed powerful muscles, proving that Jonah was still in top physical form. As for Boone, his skin was darkened, too, by the sun, and gone was his shaggy brown hair. Although still thick and wavy, it had been trimmed considerably, well above his collar.

“Where are you working now, Jonah?”

“Okmulgee Oil. I’m two weeks in an Algerian oilfield, two weeks home.”

“So you’re finally using that engineering degree,” Boone said.

“I used it in the military. Engineering is a good background for defusing bombs. Better than a marketing degree. So what are you doing, Boone?” Jonah asked.

Boone grinned. “I live about twenty miles out of Kansas City, Missouri, and have my own charter service. I fly everywhere and anywhere.”

“You couldn’t give it up, could you,” Jonah said. “Are you still in, Mike?”

“Nope. I got out two months ago. I’ve got an offer from the CIA and I plan to take it. I’m living in D.C. now. So, is anybody married?”

His two buddies looked at each other, but Mike saw the flash of pain in Jonah’s eyes and guessed that he still hadn’t gotten over his divorce. His marriage had ended while they were all in the service together.

“Remember that night in Fort Lauderdale?” Boone said to break the sudden pall in the mood, and in minutes they were reminiscing about those times. They continued until Mike realized he would have to hurry to make his ten o’clock appointment with Savannah Clay.

“Guys, I gotta run.”

“I’ll get the check. I certainly can afford it with my newfound fortune,” Boone announced. “The famous quarter-horse ranch that I intend to sell.”

“Thanks, Boone.” Mike pulled out a card. “Here’s my address in D.C. and my home and cell-phone numbers. Let’s keep in touch this time. If any of you are around the hotel at lunchtime, let’s get together.” The men agreed and Mike hurried outside to get a valet to bring his rental car.

Minutes later, he was striding toward Savannah Clay’s office. He had dreamed unwanted dreams about her last night. Enticing dreams where she had been soft, willing and sexy in his arms. In real life, she was none of the above, he reminded himself. Instantly, he had to admit that his assessment was unfair. She probably was soft and sexy. Willing, on the other hand, with him never. When he opened the office door, the brunette receptionist flashed him a smile.

“Good morning, Colonel Remington. Miss Clay is expecting you. I’ll tell her you’re here, if you’ll please be seated.”

He sat in a brown, leather chair and moments later, the receptionist said, “Go on in. First door—”

“On the right,” he finished, smiling at her. He reached the open door and was struck again by Savannah’s beauty, restrained by her businesslike demeanor. She was standing in front of her desk, dressed in a tailored navy suit and navy blouse, her hair once again in a twist at the back of her head. But he remembered that cascade of silky, golden hair and the figure beneath the tailored suit jacket. Her skirt ended just above her knees, giving him a good view of her long legs.

She met his eyes and his pulse speeded up a notch. “Colonel Remington,” she said politely, smiling at him. “Come in.” She took his arm and wound it through hers, standing with their shoulders and hips touching, so close to him that he could feel her warmth. He could smell her perfume and was as dazzled by her as if he were fifteen years old again with a first crush.

Suddenly he became aware that they weren’t the only people in the room. “Mike,” she said, “I want you to meet Melanie Bradford, Jessie’s caseworker.”

He turned to shake hands with a brown-haired, fortyish woman, then stopped. The woman was holding a baby.

“And this is Jessie,” Savannah announced, taking the baby and placing her swiftly in his arms.

Startled, he looked down at the baby he held so awkwardly. Big blue eyes gazed up at him as she pursed her rosebud mouth. She was soft, sweet-smelling and dressed in a frilly pink dress with a tiny pink hair bow in her wispy brown curls. She waved a fist at him.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Melanie Bradford said to him. “If you two will excuse me a moment, I need to call my office.” When she left the room, Savannah closed the door behind her and leaned against it.

“This isn’t going to make any difference,” he said to Savannah.

“Will you just look at her? And think—over a million in cash in your account, a trust for you to raise her, which means a very generous income. Also, you get the house. Hire a nanny, for heaven’s sake! You don’t have to be tied down.” Savannah’s voice was low and seductive, trying to convince him.

When she walked over to him, he held out the baby for her to take.

“You hold her,” Savannah insisted. “Look into her eyes and tell her that you’re going to make her a ward of the state and let her be shuffled around to foster homes. Think of her dad and the trust and faith he placed in you.” Now her voice held steel in it, and a good measure of anger, too.

“Stop trying to sell me on this, because it isn’t going to work,” Mike said tightly. “I’m not becoming guardian of a baby.”

“Can you look at her and tell her that?”

He gazed down into wide blue eyes and remembered John Frates. “Dammit, leave me alone, Savannah. You don’t push someone into parenthood,” he said, his anger growing.

“Nonsense. Half the world gets pushed into it one way or another. Have you ever planned to marry, or do you plan to stay a bachelor your entire life?”

“I don’t intend to get married yet,” Mike replied in clipped tones.

“So you never expected to marry or have children.”

“That isn’t what I said,” he snapped. “Now take this baby, Savannah. I’m afraid I’ll drop her.”

Jessie cooed, and as he watched, she smiled at him. He felt a tightening inside and a small sliver of regret. The girl caught his finger in her hand, holding it tightly.

He clenched his jaw and imagined life with a baby. He couldn’t. He was headed for D.C. today and the CIA. They wouldn’t like having a man saddled with a child. He couldn’t settle in a little Texas town and take charge of a baby. Nor could he see taking her to Washington with him.

“She’s beautiful,” he said tersely, and held her out to Savannah again. “Thanks for giving me a lot of sleepless nights.”

“I hope so,” she answered in a voice dripping with disdain as she took Jessie and cuddled her in her arms. She crossed to the door, talking softly to the baby, looking as if she’d done this a million times before. She gave the baby to the caseworker and returned, closing the door and facing him. And once again, she took his breath away. How could the woman be so beautiful and so damned annoying at the same time?

“Will you at least go have coffee with me?” she asked. “I have one more thing I want to show you.”

“One more reason to ruin my life?”

“If you have a guilty conscience, that’s not my fault,” she replied with a smugness that only heightened his irritation.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “I’ll go, but I don’t see any point in us spending one more minute together.”

“I think another couple of hours is a small thing to ask. Are you this difficult with other women?”

“This isn’t a man-woman thing and you know it.”

She gave him a long, intense look that included a sweep of her eyes from his head to his toes and back, and he had to admit to himself that it was at least partially a man-woman thing.

“No, I guess it’s not,” she said coolly, making him want to cross the room and take her in his arms, kiss her soundly and show her it was a man-woman thing after all. “But I’d really like you to spend the next couple of hours with me.” She awarded him the dazzling smile that made his knees weak, and he wondered how many juries and judges had succumbed to the influence of that smile.

“What the hey,” he said, and grinned. “I have hours yet to kill here.” He strolled over to her and she gazed up at him, the smile still hovering on her lips. If his proximity fazed her, she didn’t show it. “Maybe it could turn into a man-woman thing,” he said softly.

“Not in this lifetime,” she snapped. “But I’m glad you’ve agreed to stay. Let me arrange a few things, and then we’re out of here. Wait just a minute.”

Another order. Did the woman even know the word please? he wondered. He sat and watched her move around her office, and in minutes she nodded to him. “I’m ready. Shall we go?”

He left with her, enjoying the sight of her walking beside him, as well as the scent of her perfume. “Is this another exercise in futility?” he asked.

“Might be, but I have to do what I have to do. I don’t give up easily.”

“You’re very passionate about this. Maybe all that passion is just misguided.”

She laughed, a sexy, flirty laugh, then slanted him a look that made his blood heat. “In your dreams, Colonel! You’re not goading me into sex.”

“Sometimes the impossible happens,” he retorted lightly, but she was definitely keeping him off balance. He didn’t want to be intrigued by her or physically drawn to her, but he was. A woman who kept shifting from glacial to this kind of sexy was bound to give him trouble.

At her car he held the door for her and then went around to sit in the passenger seat. As they drove away from her office and into San Antonio traffic, he watched her.

When they left town and traffic thinned, his curiosity increased. He looked at rolling green hills dotted with sturdy oaks and sprinkled with colorful wildflowers. “So where are we headed—Stallion Pass, perhaps?”

“Good guess. I want you to see the town.”

“It won’t do you any good.”

“You asked me last night, and now I’ll ask you—have you ever been in love?”

“Yes, I have,” he answered quickly.

“I’ll bet lots of times,” she said, flashing a quick smile.

“Sometimes it’s a light, pleasure-only thing and sometimes it’s been more serious, but nothing permanent ever. I’m not a man to settle, and women take a dim view of getting involved with a man with my lifestyle.”

“Why do I doubt that they protest very much? I’ll bet you’re nearly always the one to break things off.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You’re handsome, dynamic, aggressive—”

“Aggressive? I think I’ve been a model of restraint and cooperation with one exception. I’m not taking a baby as an inheritance.”

“You might change your mind.”

“No, I won’t. Handsome?” he repeated, his tone changing as he shifted slightly in the seat to study her more intently. “My, my, Counselor. I’m surprised to get any kind of positive reaction from you,” he said.

“You didn’t, but I imagine ninety-five percent of the women you meet find you quite attractive.”

“Now what exactly makes you come to that conclusion?”

She laughed and glanced at him. “You want me to shower you with compliments? I think your ego is big enough as it is.”

“And I bet you get hit on often, too. Except you probably scare the hell out of a lot of men.”

“Do I scare you?” she asked, slanting him another quick, saucy look.

“Ask me that when you’re not driving, and I’ll show you.”

“Why do you want to be in the CIA?”

“You’re changing the subject, but I’ll remind you of it later,” Mike told her. “I want to go into the CIA because I can still serve my country that way. I can do some interesting things, see interesting places.”

“You can do that in the military, too. Why are you getting out?”

“It’s a little too much on the edge. I’m tired of getting shot at.”

“And that won’t happen in the CIA?”

“I’m wrangling for a desk job.”

“I’m surprised,” she said. “You look the type for action.”

“What kind of lawyer are you? Estate planning?”

“Contract law is my specialty, but I do estates. I’ve done a lot of work for John Frates because we’ve known each other all our lives.”

“You’re a lot younger than John Frates.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks, but you don’t know how old I am.”

“I’d guess twenty-eight,” Mike said, his gaze drifting up and down her.

“Guessing a woman’s age is a risky business. I’m thirty.”

“Ten years younger than John.”

“You remember his age?” She shot Mike a surprised glance.

“I had to know a lot about John before we went to get him. Personal information helps.”

As she smiled at him, Mike suspected she knew a lot about his background. They talked while they drove through small towns and across the Texas countryside until finally they reached the outskirts of a town, where a rock wall held a sign that read Welcome to Stallion Pass.

“So where’s the pass?”

“There isn’t one. It goes back to an early-day legend of an Apache warrior who fell in love with a cavalryman’s daughter. The soldiers killed the warrior, and according to legend, his ghost was a wild, white stallion that forever roamed these parts looking for his true love. According to the legend, whoever caught the stallion would find love. Anyway, the town got the name Stallion Pass because there have been wild, white stallions around these parts forever.”

“Is there one now?”

“The last one I heard about was fairly recent. One of the ranchers here caught a white stallion. He passed it on to one of his friends, who gave it to another friend.”

“And did love come to them?”

She smiled. “All of those guys are married now—you be the judge.”

Mike smiled back at her. “You can be charming when you want to be.”

“So can you, Mike. Truce?”

“Until we talk about babies and settling in small towns.”

She wrinkled her nose but didn’t challenge him. “Now we’re coming into the central part of Stallion Pass. This town was established right after the Civil War because there was an early fort outside of town. Then the railroad came through here and the town boomed. The Frateses were one of the early families. So were the Clays. Most people have stayed. There’s a lot of oil money here, lots of ranches in the area, a refinery, some small industry in Stallion Pass, so we have a prosperous town. There’s a museum, a civic center, a fine aquarium and botanical gardens.”

She pointed out sights to him while he looked at two new hotels a block from an older, renovated one. “That’s the Wentworth Hotel, one of the oldest in Texas, although not as old as the Menger in San Antonio. Across the street is the best steak house in these parts, Murphy’s Steakhouse. It’s excellent. A few blocks over is an equally good restaurant—only, barbecue is the specialty.”

He looked at sights she pointed out, realizing that “prosperous” was an understatement. The town looked like the product of both old and new money, with its fancy shops, restaurants and office buildings surrounding a green, tree-shaded town square with a large, three-tiered fountain gushing sparkling water.

The houses around town were old and well-kept, but as he and Savannah drove out of town, the houses changed to newer structures. Soon Savannah turned between iron gates into an area of enormous mansions.

He saw a sign that read Woodbridge and gazed beyond it at sprawling, well-tended lawns and multicolored flowerbeds.

“Looks like there’s a lot of money in this little town,” Mike said, looking at a mansion set back from the road, a winding, tree-lined drive leading up to the front door. “It’s not going to do you any good to show me the house I can inherit,” he said quietly. “This isn’t my style.”

“What is your style, Mike?”

“Small apartments, my books, my bike. I don’t have a lot of possessions. I’ve lived on military bases and moved around a lot.”

“The house comes furnished,” she said as she turned up the long, winding drive.

“That won’t matter,” he replied. Mike looked at the three-story, redbrick Georgian. White columns supported the roof of a wide front porch.

“This is the Frateses’ home, which you have now inherited.” She stopped and turned off the engine.

He caught her wrist, instantly more aware of the physical contact than what he was about to tell her. “This is a waste of time. I was never meant for a house like this. I’ve never even dreamed of a house like this.”

“So sell it and get something you like. Right now, it’s yours, so let’s go look at it. C’mon.” She twisted her wrist out of his light grasp and climbed out.

Mike got out, too, and walked around, truly not interested in the house and unable to relate to it in any manner.

He stood in the enormous front hallway and looked at the crystal chandelier overhead, the winding staircase and the elegant furnishings. She caught his hand. “Come with me.”

Once again, the moment she touched him, he was focused completely on her. He went upstairs with her and knew where she was taking him before they entered a little girl’s bedroom filled with toys, pink ruffles and fancy white furniture.

“I figured this was where we were going,” he said when she stopped in the middle of the room and dropped his hand.

“This is what you’re taking her away from.”

“You’re a smart lawyer. I’m sure you can work out something.”

“While I work out something, she’ll belong to the state. Those bureaucratic things take lots of time and red tape.”

“So you told me,” he said. “The answer is still no.”

She turned to stare at him. “I think you’re being incredibly selfish. You could take Jessie and have all this! Hire a staff to care for her.”

“If I took her, I couldn’t live with that,” he said quietly, wanting to leave.

“Instead, you’ll give her up to strangers,” Savannah said, fire flashing in the depths of her eyes.

Mike felt his own temper rise. “Why don’t you take her? You’re so all-fired eager to get Jessie someone who cares. Though I am surprised you care. You’re—” He broke off.

“What?” she asked, looking amused. “Hard?”

He gazed into her eyes and shook his head. “Tough, but never hard. There isn’t a hard part in you. You’re delectably soft,” he said quietly, watching her blink and realizing for once he had caught her so by surprise that she hadn’t been able to hide it. “Maybe you’re stubborn and aggressive, but definitely soft.”

“Me, stubborn? You take the prize.”

“I’ll tell you one thing I am,” he said in the same quiet voice, aware of her as a woman, inhaling her perfume, standing only a few feet from her. “I’m curious. Before I get on that plane to D.C., I’d like to satisfy my curiosity.” He moved closer and slid his hand behind her head.

He expected her to step back and snap at him, but when she didn’t, he looked into her eyes and saw she wasn’t going to say no. He saw the same curiosity he had.

He leaned the last bit of distance and brushed her lips with his, and then his mouth settled on hers. Her mouth was a warm, soft invitation, her lips parting and her sweet breath rushing out.

The moment his tongue touched hers, he felt a jolt. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, and discovered he had been right. She was all soft curves.

To his surprise, as he kissed her, the sparks that danced in the air so often between them turned to flames. She set him ablaze with her kiss as their tongues played together. Her kiss became more than he had expected. He was shaken to his toes and on fire, a searing heat making him tight and hard. He pulled her closer, dimly aware her hands were on his upper arms.

She aroused him, and he wanted her to an extent that surprised him. He was caught in a kiss that put fire in his veins. His heart pounded and his blood roared, and her kiss turned out to be more than he’d ever dreamed possible. The magnitude of his desire was startling. He wanted to take down her hair, push off the suit jacket; he wanted to peel away all their clothes, get rid of the bothersome barriers between them.

When she pushed against his chest, he released her. “I’ll cancel my plane if you’ll go to dinner with me tonight,” he said in a husky voice, wanting to pull her back into his arms. He felt as if he had opened Pandora’s box and trouble was spilling out all around him. A part of him didn’t want to cancel his plane reservation and spend hours with her. Another part of him didn’t want to let her out of his sight. “And not one word about babies.”

The fires in the depth of her blue eyes became frost.

“You get on your plane and go on with your self-centered life,” she snapped.

Maybe passion pushed his temper to an edge, but he was tired of her calling him selfish and self-centered. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Why don’t you take her?”

“I might try to gain custody of her, but it still means up to two years of shuffling little Jessie through the system. And there’s no guarantee I’d get her.”

“If you’ve known John all your life, I don’t know why you didn’t inherit her in the first place.”

She flinched and drew a deep breath. “I’ve wondered why he didn’t ask me, too, because I gladly would have taken Jessie,” Savannah replied stiffly. “I’ve known John forever. Maybe that’s one reason I’ve been so in your face about this. I wish it had been me—not for the money or house, but for Jessie. I think she’s adorable.”

“Yeah, right,” he said, thinking that Savannah put on a good act.

She bristled. “You don’t believe me?”

“It’s easy to say you’d take her when you know you can’t. And I don’t think you’ll fight to get her, either. The situation looks different when you’re the one who has to take the lifetime responsibility.”

“That’s not so!” Savannah’s cheeks flushed angrily. “If I had the chance, I’d take her in a second.”

“Right,” he replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm. He tilted his head to study her. “Hell, marry me—a marriage of convenience—and then you can take her.”

“Marry you! That would be like putting a lion and a tiger in a cage together.”

“Yeah, exactly. Marry me,” he said, glad to put her on the defensive. “I’ll stay as long as necessary, and then you can have the care of her and go through all the red tape to legally get custody.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, her voice laced with disgust.

Satisfied that he had proved his point, he put his hands on his hips. “You’re not jumping at this chance to give little Jessie a family and a home? I didn’t think you would. When the shoe’s on the other foot, it’s mighty different. Now you don’t want any part of it.”

“That isn’t because of Jessie.”

“You and I could stay in this mansion and never see each other,” he argued, glad to keep her on the defensive. “It’s huge.”

“Nothing is that huge.”

“Yeah, right, Counselor. You just don’t want the responsibility. Now we could argue all day, but I’ve got a plane to catch.”

He left the room. Savannah glared at him and wanted to shake her fist and scream. Insufferable man! She didn’t want to think about his devastating kiss. Life wasn’t fair. He was so cussed stubborn and unrelenting. She didn’t want to dream about him after he had flown out of her life this afternoon. And she didn’t want to cry over Jessie and remember cold, frightened nights in her own life.

Jessie’s a baby, too little right now to be scared or know what was happening to her, Savannah thought sternly, then instantly rejected that notion.

She hurried after Mike, looking at his squared shoulders and long, forceful stride. He acted as though he ruled the world.

He didn’t believe she would take Jessie if she had the chance, but she would. He saw her as a tough lawyer who was all business, but she would love to have Jessie. It had hurt that John hadn’t asked her to be Jessie’s guardian. Apart from their families having been close, John’s business had helped make her and Troy’s practice a big success. At the time she read the will, she had thought he was as close as a brother to Mike Remington, and that was why he wanted Mike to be Jessie’s guardian. Since meeting Mike, she realized he couldn’t have really known Mike or foreseen that Mike would refuse.

Now this infuriating man who made her grit her teeth, who could kiss a woman into a pool of quivering jelly, was going to walk out and leave the baby to become a ward of the state.

Marry him! That certainly would be like putting a lion and a tiger into a cage together. And he hadn’t really meant it, anyway. Marriage would tie him down more than simply taking Jessie and hiring nannies. Unless he thought he could get a wife and vanish for months at a time.

She didn’t know what was in that handsome head of his. She glared at him as he went through the front door while she followed and locked up.

When she turned, he held out his hand. “Give me the keys and I’ll drive. It’ll give you a break.”

“I’m not trusting you with my car,” she said tersely, annoyed with him, wanting to shake him and hating that she was too cognizant of his appeal. For if she reached out to shake him, the touch would ignite the volatile chemistry between them.

She thought about the dinner date she had turned down. More kisses—the thought of more of his kisses sent her pulse into a dizzying spiral. Yet the evening would be another exercise in futility, getting her all hot and bothered in every way.

A marriage of convenience to Mike Remington. It would be war. Even if he had meant it, she couldn’t tie her life to his, not even as a technicality.

When he held the door for her, she was acutely conscious of passing close to him, of his dark eyes steadily watching her. The man was incredibly sexy, and her nerves were jangled because of him.

She slid behind the wheel and glanced up to catch him looking at her legs. His gaze met hers, and then he closed the door and strode around the front of the car to get into the passenger side.

“Friends, Counselor?” he asked as she turned down the long driveway.

“Hardly,” she answered coolly, wondering if he had been affected at all by their kiss. Maybe a little, since he had offered to cancel his flight and take her to dinner.

After a silent ride, as they stood in the parking lot at her office, they faced each other and he held out his hand. “It’s been interesting. I’m sorry, but I can’t become guardian of a baby. I’m sure you’ll find someone who can take Jessie. You gave it a real good try.”

“Don’t patronize me,” she said, annoyed with him, yet far too responsive to him, tingling because of his hand holding hers and mesmerized by his midnight-brown eyes, which held dark temptations and secrets. Sexy eyes that made her pulse race when he gave her one of his steady, probing looks. “I’ll be back in touch with you,” she said. “It isn’t often someone turns down a million-dollar inheritance. I don’t know the precedents.”

“Take your time, Counselor. You have my number in D.C. It’s been interesting.”

“Have a nice life,” she snapped, turning to walk away and wondering how long it would take her to get over her anger toward him. And how long would it take her to forget his sexy kiss?

Mike drove out of the shaded lot, glancing in the rearview mirror to see Savannah standing at the door watching him drive away. Stubborn woman. But, oh, so sexy. What a kiss!

He was going home to Washington, and he was certain Savannah would find a guardian for Jessie.

Forgetting Stallion Pass, Jessie and Savannah Clay, Mike turned his thoughts to D.C. and the appointments he had, things he had to do.

At the airport, he milled with the crowd until his plane was called. Picking up his carry-on and a newspaper, he lined up as the first people moved into the jetway.

“Mike!”

“Would Mike Remington please come to the desk,” came an announcement over the intercom. He turned, first to see who had called his name.

“Mike!”

Surprised, he saw Savannah hurrying toward him. “Mike, wait!” she called and waved.

The first thought that came to mind was that he had forgotten something, but he had brought hardly anything with him and he was certain he hadn’t left any possession with Savannah.

“Mike, wait!” she cried, getting closer. “I’ll marry you.”




Three


Mike was certain he hadn’t heard correctly. He stared at her as she came rushing up to him.

“I’ll marry you!” she cried again as she stopped only a few feet from him.

“You’re crazy,” he said, staring at her in dismay.

“Would Mike Remington please report to the desk?” a voice said over the intercom.

“Go tell them to cancel that announcement,” she said breathlessly, staring at him.

Transfixed, he could only stare back. “You were right earlier. You and I can’t marry,” he said, never for one second thinking she would take him up on his offhand suggestion that they have a marriage of convenience.

“I thought about it,” she said, and he was only dimly aware of people moving around them. They had suddenly been shut off from the rest of the world. The moment was surreal; the concept of any kind of long-lasting contract with her was an absolute impossibility. But she was standing there in front of him, still in her tailored navy suit and blouse, a couple of loose, golden tendrils curling around her face, and she looked and sounded earnest.

“Would Mike Remington please report to the desk.”

“Just a minute,” he said to Savannah. “Let me get them to stop paging me.”

“They’re paging you because I asked them to. I was afraid you’d already be on your plane.”

He nodded and rushed to the desk to tell them the person who had been looking for him had found him. He also canceled his flight. When he turned away from the counter, he saw Savannah standing to one side of the hall, waiting for him solemnly. She looked pale and uncertain, something else he wouldn’t have expected.

He crossed to her and took her arm. “Let’s go where we can talk.”

In minutes they were in a quiet, deserted airport bar. He had ordered a soda for her and beer for him. Stunned, he still couldn’t accept the past few minutes.

He sat facing her. “I can’t believe that you’d marry me. And frankly, I didn’t give the offer much thought.”

“I figured you’d try to wriggle out of it.”

“Not necessarily. I’m just surprised. What made you change your mind?”

“I’ve thought about this—not marriage, but what to do about Jessie. If we have a marriage of convenience, I’d get Jessie right now. You’d be the official guardian, but you can do as you damn well please. You’ll be an instant millionaire. I have enough money to take care of my needs and Jessie’s, although there is a trust for that and a trust for her.”

“You said it yourself—it would be like putting a lion and a tiger together,” he reminded her, appalled that she had taken him up on such an impossible offer.

“So you didn’t mean it and you’re weaseling out?” she asked, sparks flying in her eyes again.

His anger flared, and he took a deep breath, hanging on to his temper. “I’m not weaseling out, but I don’t think it’s a smart move.”

“What else will keep Jessie from becoming a ward of the state?”

They glared at each other as he took a long swallow of beer. He wanted to shake her and he wanted to walk away. Tell her no and grab the next flight and get out of Texas. On the other hand, she had a point. He could do as he pleased, leave the baby with her, and Jessie wouldn’t be turned over to the state. That should make them both happy. And getting the chance to see Savannah soft and warm again was very appealing.

“Could you adopt her if we were married?” he asked her.

“I think we would have to do it as man and wife, then we could get a divorce. Otherwise, you’re her legal guardian and it would be complicated if not impossible. I’ll look into it. We adopt, and then we could break up the marriage and you would be free. Surely that isn’t asking too much of you to give.”

“Listen, Savannah, I’m tired of you painting me as the bad guy just because I don’t want this responsibility. This was thrust on me without my knowledge or consent.”

“Sorry,” she said.

“You don’t mean that,” he accused, thinking about what she had said. “Before we rush out and say vows, let’s sleep on this tonight.”

“That’s fine with me,” she answered, suddenly bestowing one of those win-over-the-world smiles on him. “Why don’t you let me cook dinner for you? Come to my place about seven o’clock.”

“I have to get a hotel room and a car….”

“You could stay at my place,” she told him a bit desperately.

“Thanks, Savannah. Your place will be great tonight since I might have trouble getting a room this late,” he said, wanting to mess up her day as much as she had ruined his. “This will give us a chance to see if we can tolerate being under the same roof together.”

She flashed another knee-melting smile at him. “You surprise me again, Mike. But remember, my condo is far smaller than that Stallion Pass mansion. At my place we’ll know we’re together.”

“Now who’s trying to weasel out of an invitation?”

“Not on your life,” she said, reaching over to give his arm a squeeze. “I’m delighted. Let’s go.”

“All right,” he answered, amused that she was taking charge and making decisions again, mindful of the current that ripped through him when she touched his arm.

They left, and in minutes were headed into the heart of the city. At her condo, she opened the door and led him inside. “I’ll put steaks out to grill—how’s that?”

“Sounds fine, Savannah,” he replied, looking around at oak cabinets and woodwork, green plants, a yellow-tile counter, a glass-top table, expensive furnishings and state-of-the-art kitchen equipment.

“Come with me and I’ll show you around,” she said, leading him into a large living area with a stone fireplace, a big-screen television, a polished hardwood floor and elegant fruitwood furniture. “Here’s where I spend most of my time. There’s the dining room,” she said with a wave of her hand. Through an open doorway, he saw a crystal chandelier hanging above a long, oval wooden table and chairs. “Your room is this way.”

“This is very nice,” Mike remarked as he walked beside her.

“Thank you. I like it, but my favorite place is my home in Stallion Pass. It’s near one of my brothers and his family, and one of my sisters and her family. There’s my office,” she said, waving her hand at another open door. He saw a neat desk with a computer and printer, bookshelves filled with law books.

“You can stay in here,” she said, entering a room on her right that had green-and-beige decor, a four-poster bed, mahogany furniture and a hardwood floor. “There’s an adjoining bathroom and clean towels are already set out. Anything you need, you can let me know.”

He turned to face her, meeting her wide, blue eyes. “And where will you be?”

“My room is right down the hall,” she replied.

“Don’t you think you’re rushing into this? You don’t look like the impetuous type. No lawyer does.”

“You’re making more snap judgments,” she said. “I’m not given to acting impulsively on whims, but time was running out on this one. I suspected that if you got on that plane to D.C., I’d have a difficult time getting you back to Texas.”

“You figured that one right, but I think we both ought to give this marriage idea more thought.”

She smiled. “Marriage, even a paper one, scares you, doesn’t it?”

“Damn straight!” he snapped. “I’ll be signing a contract and agreeing to certain things that will change my life. I have to give this more thought.”

“Even though you proposed it. You didn’t expect me to take you up on it, did you.”

As he looked into her big, blue eyes, he again felt the clash of wills, along with sparks. He couldn’t keep from smiling and shrugging. “You got me on that one.”

“You’re here to give it some more thought. In the meantime, let me freshen up and change into something comfortable, and I’ll see you in the kitchen in about half an hour.” Her eyes sparkled, and he knew he was sinking in quicksand.

“Sure.” He watched her walk away, an easy thing to do. She had a nice walk, but the suit jacket hid a lot. He was glad she was changing into something else.

He followed her and stood in the doorway, watching her turn into another room down the hall and close the door behind her. He closed his door and glanced at his watch. He had calls to make to people in D.C., plans to change. Now when would he go home? Probably tomorrow, whatever they decided.

Marry Savannah Clay. The thought was staggering. He’d come to Texas thinking he would get a small inheritance, see old friends and then return to his life. Instead, here he was in the home of a woman he’d known less than twenty-four hours, contemplating becoming her husband and the guardian of another man’s baby. Talk about being sucker-punched, he thought—and he’d helped Savannah deliver this blow.

A marriage of convenience to Savannah, even if they were in that mansion and if the marriage was a paper one and if the union only lasted briefly. Could he do it? She was aggressive, stubborn, accustomed to getting her way, outspoken. And sexy. Suppose that got mixed up in the equation? No danger of falling in love, though. Maybe they were too much alike. Both of them were strong-willed people with explosive tempers.

He showered and changed into jeans and a blue knit shirt, pulling on clean socks and loafers. His thoughts churned with the possibilities and hazards before him. He never for an instant thought she would take him up on his offer of a paper marriage. He was still astounded that she had, yet he could certainly see how it would get her what she wanted.




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