A Very Tempting Texan
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Janice Maynard
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One
Shannon Morrison scrunched down in the driver’s seat and pulled her ball cap low over her eyes, hands clenched on the steering wheel. She was parked at the curb of the local mercantile where she had recently purchased two new pairs of work gloves, a washing machine hose and a half dozen potted begonias to brighten up the front porch of the home that had been in her family for six generations—the Bar None Ranch.
Across the street and down the block, in front of the courthouse, stood a man she wanted to avoid at all cost. Rory Fentress. Hometown bad boy made good. A guy who happened to live hundreds of miles away in Austin.
As a rebellious eighteen-year-old kid, he had kicked the dust of Royal, Texas, off his feet and headed out to make his fortune. Little more than a dozen years later, he was wealthy, powerful and even more good-looking than he’d been as a wiry high school kid.
Unfortunately for Shannon, she knew exactly what the adult Rory looked like naked.
Her skin tingled. The mental image was impossible to shake. Especially since she returned there again and again in her dreams on a nightly basis. She should be over him by now. After all, she had been the one to call a halt to their madness some weeks ago. It wasn’t as if he had dumped her. Theirs was an incendiary affair that had burned hot and bright, leaving ashes in its wake. And all because she had been introduced to a man she now knew to be her own personal Kryptonite.
One hundred and eighty days ago, give or take—not that Shannon was counting—Rory had returned to Royal intent on mending fences with his past and proving that he was now a man and not an angry teenager. The town had welcomed him with open arms. Even in a state as big as Texas, Rory had managed to become a household name after being named Austin’s most eligible bachelor. After graduating from law school with honors, he had founded a financial consulting firm that rocketed to success like an expensive Fourth of July firework. The man had money, good looks and charm. Who could resist him? Certainly not the old-timers in Royal who saw a chance to put their town center stage on the political map. Rory made no secret of his ambitions.
The incumbent state senator in Austin was deeply entrenched, so Rory had decided to run from the district of his birth. Once elected, rumor had it that the next goal would be a governor’s race by the time he was forty.
It wasn’t long before Rory’s visits to Royal became monthly and then bi-weekly. His popularity grew. It was no surprise to anyone when the final seal of approval was offered and accepted. The Texas Cattleman’s Club inducted the sinfully handsome and sexy Rory Fentress into its hallowed ranks as an honorary member.
Shannon was still a little miffed about that. It had taken a veritable earthquake of change to orchestrate the inclusion of women in the esteemed membership of the TCC. Shannon herself was one of the first four female members, and she had received an invitation only because her late father had been a wealthy, powerful fixture in Royal. And because Shannon was keeping his ranching legacy alive. But Rory, who had been a hell-raiser for most of his misspent youth, had been ushered in with typical “good ol’ boy” enthusiasm.
All a man had to do was reinvent himself, and suddenly all his past sins were forgotten. At least that’s how it seemed to Shannon.
Now...barely able to peer over the dashboard given her current position, she eyed him from a safe distance. Much as she would a dangerous bull. Because on his last trip to Royal, Rory had spent three days and nights with her, most of them in bed.
They had met six months ago during his first week back home, introduced by mutual friends. Soon, Rory was pursuing her with single-minded intent. And she had enjoyed every minute of it. Until she discovered a disheartening truth. In order to run for state senator from Royal’s district, Rory had to be a legal resident.
Shannon had been courted once in the past for her family’s land. She didn’t want to repeat the humiliating experience. But that didn’t stop her from falling head over heels for the fascinating, sexy Rory. Though she had gone out with him numerous times in the last half a year, it wasn’t until recently that he had coaxed her into bed.
Paradoxically, that experience had prompted her to break up with him. Because the sex had been so incredible, she’d almost crumbled when he asked to buy her family’s ranch. That was a sin she absolutely could not commit, even if Rory mesmerized her like a snake charmer.
The Bar None Ranch was her sacred responsibility...a part of the Morrison legacy left to her by her parents at their untimely deaths. No sweet-talkin’ Texan was going to influence her to do something she would later regret. Even if he did make her melt with longing when he touched her.
Today, he looked better than ever, if that was possible. He was tall and lean and muscular. His ebony hair, sculpted cheekbones and deeply tanned skin framed eyes that were the black of a moonless night.
Despite the fact that he could charm the diamonds off a rattlesnake with his generous smile and smooth manners, he projected an air of utter masculinity. No one would ever call him a “citified” guy, though he now wandered the halls of government in the Texas capital.
Rory Fentress was a man’s man through and through. His intelligence and charisma had propelled him on the political fast track, but beneath his sophisticated persona lay an alpha male who was virile, driven and good with his hands—whether than meant stroking a woman or gentling a horse, handling a firearm or wrestling a bronco.
Rory was the real deal. A Texas maverick. A rule-breaker. And an amazing lover.
Feeling her cheeks heat, Shannon moved restlessly, suddenly too hot in her khaki work shirt and well-worn jeans. Taking care not to sit up, she flipped the ignition long enough to roll down both windows. The spring morning that had started out with a gentle breeze was heating up rapidly. Much like her quivering insides.
Surely Rory would move on in the next few minutes. The day was wasting away, and she needed to get back to the ranch. But the only means of exiting the one-way street was to drive smack in front of the man she absolutely could not face.
Determined to wait him out, she fished her phone from her purse and perused her email. Pickup trucks were a dime a dozen in Royal, so she wasn’t worried about him recognizing her vehicle. He was probably in town to shake down some of Royal’s wealthiest citizens for backing of his upcoming political campaign or to purchase whichever piece of property he had decided to buy after Shannon turned him down. Trouble was, Royal didn’t have a very mobile population. Huge ranching operations remained in families for decades. Available real estate, at least the kind Rory would want, was slim pickings.
She had finished checking email and was playing a silly video game when a shadow fell across her left shoulder. Startled, she jerked upright, dropped her phone and bumped her elbow on the door handle.
A low, all-too-familiar voice spoke in tones more suited to a cloistered bedroom than a public street.
“Hello, Shannon. How are you?”
* * *
Rory Fentress knew a thing or two about political maneuvering. A man who could facilitate compromise had it in his power to make things happen. Important things. Dealing with a woman was similar, but far trickier.
At the moment, Shannon Morrison’s cool stare could have frozen molten lava. “What are you doing here?” she asked, the words tight and breathless. He hoped that his unexpected reappearance in Royal had shaken her.
“Business.” He shrugged, resting his right hand on the windowsill, wondering if she would buy that excuse. The lady was one smart cookie, and despite her bright, sassy hair and pale blue eyes, the voluptuous Shannon was no blonde bimbo. Come to think of it, if she had been, he would never have been interested in her to start with. Though he’d been less discriminating as a horny college kid, along the way since then he had learned that a woman’s brain was as fascinating as her soft skin and seductive curves.
Today, Shannon’s stylish chin-length bob was half hidden beneath a baseball cap. Not even the battered hat could detract from her innate sexuality. Her utilitarian work clothes merely drew attention to the radiant glow of her skin and the feminine strength of her slender arms and legs.
She ignored his intense perusal. “I have to go,” she said. “Please move your arm.”
“Let me buy you a drink.”
“It’s not even noon. I don’t know what you and your cohorts up in Austin are used to, but here in Royal we don’t break out the booze until after five.”
He wasn’t imagining the tilt to her chin. Or the barely veiled antagonism. Deliberately reaching a few inches farther into the cab of the truck, he trailed a finger down her arm. “I was talking about a Coke...or some sweet tea. But you’re still mad at me. I get it. Though I don’t know why.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she whispered. The words were forced from a clench-jawed, incredibly sexy mouth. Her eyes darted from side to side to see if anyone was observing their exchange. “I’m not mad. I’m merely busy. Very busy. And if you don’t mind, Rory, I’d like to get on with my day.”
“I love the way you say my name.” It was true. Every time he left Royal to go back to Austin, he thought about her constantly. Her ample rounded breasts. The way her throat flushed pink when he embarrassed her. The honeyed drawl of her words that made him feel at home, even in a town where he had started out his adult life by burning bridges. In the beginning he had fought the attraction, because it threatened to divert focus from his political plans. But more recently he had conceded, at least to himself, that he wanted somehow to fit Shannon into his list of life goals. “Let me take you to lunch at the diner. I know you’re not much of a breakfast eater. But we could grab a burger.”
“Absolutely not.”
His jaw tightened at her look of horror. The local eatery served coffee that was hot and strong but had a gossipy grapevine that could spread secrets faster than a brushfire in August. Clearly Shannon didn’t want to be seen with him. Though her response wasn’t unexpected, it had a surprising sting.
He threw down the gauntlet. “I thought I’d drive out to the ranch later. I never did get a chance to see it.” Mainly because he and Shannon had been more interested in getting to know each other over intimate dinners and during moonlit drives around the countryside. Most recently, that interest had translated into being alone in his hotel room. A hot shiver of remembrance snaked down his spine and hardened his sex.
“Are you threatening me?” Her eyebrows jumped to her hairline.
“You and I have unfinished business.”
Her beautiful pale blue eyes narrowed. “If you think I’m available for some kind of booty call whenever you happen to come back to town, you can forget it. And I’m not selling.”
“You made both of those points abundantly clear. But you also jumped to conclusions. I was simply trying to solve two problems at once. I see how you work yourself to death. You told me you’d love to be able to travel. I need to buy some property. My offer was designed to relieve some of your burden.”
“My problems are my business. Move that finger or lose it.”
Her glare would have discouraged a lesser man. He stepped back, letting her think she had won this round. “We had something special.”
“Put it in a Hallmark card.” She slammed her gearshift into reverse, shot backward, then pulled out onto the road with a screech and hurtled away from him, just a hairbreadth under the speed limit.
* * *
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Shannon berated herself as she drove back home. How was Rory supposed to believe she was indifferent to him if she came apart in a girly meltdown whenever he showed up?
All she’d had to do today was be calm and friendly. Then he would have gotten the message that she was no longer interested in him. But no...instead, she had pitched a hissy fit like a jealous girlfriend. Which she wasn’t. Not by a long shot.
As she turned onto the long, winding road that led to the Bar None, she cussed under her breath when she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a black Mercedes hurtling toward her. Surely he hadn’t followed her.
But apparently this was her day to be taken off guard. Because it soon became apparent that behind the wheel of the car on her tail was her erstwhile lover. In hot pursuit.
Suddenly furious, she pulled to the side of the road, shut off the engine and jumped down from the truck. Rory followed suit and met her more than halfway, his sheer presence forcing her to back up against her vehicle.
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him, wishing she had remembered to put on her sunglasses. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He stood there like a rugged model from a high-end men’s magazine, legs spread, arms crossed over his chest. His expensive suit fit him perfectly, drawing attention to his muscular thighs and broad shoulders. “We need to talk.” The words were quiet, his gaze sober, his face wiped clean of all expression.
Her heart missed several beats and settled into a syncopated rhythm. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant,” she quipped. A panic attack on her part seemed imminent. She had done the smart thing. She had ended a sexual relationship that was going nowhere. She wouldn’t let it. She had too much pride to be with a man whose underlying motives were practical instead of romantic. Why was he making this so damned hard?
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he muttered. Taking her shoulders in his big hands, he drew her close and settled his mouth over hers in a gentle, drugging caress of warm firm lips. Long and slow and unabashedly intimate. He took charge as if he had every right to kiss her senseless.
His body was warm, and standing beneath the unforgiving sun, it was no wonder.
“Put your arms around me,” he said.
“I’m not selling you my ranch.”
But even as she whispered the words, her mental resistance to him crumbled in the wake of a tidal wave of longing. She did his bidding, because she needed this. Needed him. Painfully. As she had every day since he’d been gone.
She buried her face in his shoulder, as he stroked her hair. They were so close, his belt buckle dug into her belly. But she wouldn’t have put an inch between them, even if he had allowed it. Being with him again filled a gaping hole in her heart she had not even allowed herself to acknowledge.
“I made it very clear to you that we were finished,” she said, sifting her fingers through the silky hair at the nape of his neck.
She felt his chuckle rumble through his chest. “I never did like being told what to do.”
He tugged up her chin so he could see her face. She wanted to hide, sure that her emotions were painted there for him to see. Did he really think he could use sex to persuade her to cooperate? “I don’t understand you,” she said, searching for any palatable explanation for his sudden reappearance in her life. The little crinkles at the corners of his eyes were smile lines.
“I’m a pretty simple guy. And I know what I want.”
The unspoken subtext was making her brain hurt. How was a woman supposed to protect her heart when the man talked in riddles? She longed to believe that he wanted her, but she had been that gullible once before and had suffered not only a broken heart, but a serious blow to her pride as well. She pulled back, smoothing her hair with shaking hands. “I have work to do,” she said.
“I’m going with you to the ranch.” His tone brooked no argument.
Their gazes locked—hers wary and uncertain, his impossible to read. She shrugged helplessly. “Suit yourself. But you’ll be bored.”
He grinned, a flash of white teeth that made her knees embarrassingly weak. “I’m a big boy, Shannon. I can take care of myself.”
* * *
She kept tabs on him in her rearview mirror as he followed her closely all the way home. When she parked in front of the ranch house, she grimaced, suddenly seeing it through the eyes of an outsider. Keeping this place afloat took all the ingenuity she possessed. Because of mistakes she had made due to inexperience, there wasn’t much money available right now for aesthetic improvements. In the unforgiving light of midday, the old homestead couldn’t hide its peeling paint.
It had been a dry spring, and everything, scrubby bushes included, had a coating of fine dust. To Shannon, the Bar None was home, and thus she never really examined it or found fault. Now, though, she could see that at first glance, it didn’t make a stellar impression. But finances were on the upswing, and soon she would have the books back where they had been when her dad died.
Rory might actually believe he was doing her a favor when he offered to buy her property, but though she had been tempted to give up many times in the last few years, she knew she couldn’t. She had almost lost the ranch once. The creditors had been breathing down her neck. Only sheer grit and determination had kept things afloat. With her parents gone, she had learned a valuable lesson. Land and heritage were permanent...and in the end, the only things that mattered.
But now this wretchedly handsome cowboy seemed determined to coax her into selfish, irresponsible behavior that could make her stray from the path she had set for herself. Whether that meant indulging in casual sex or abandoning her beliefs about her duty to the ranch, the end result was the same.
Rory was dangerous.
The two of them met up on the front porch. He held a small duffel bag. “Make yourself at home,” she said, the words short and stilted. “The bedroom at the top of the stairs, first door on the right, is a guest room if you want to change clothes. You’ll find sandwich fixings in the fridge.”
He grabbed her wrist when she turned to walk away. “You haven’t eaten lunch.”
“I have things to do.”
* * *
She went about her routine on autopilot, desperately aware that Rory was in her house. In...her...house. Dear Lord. Even as she chatted with her foreman, made sure feed orders were processed and called a breeder about renting out one of her stud bulls, her mind was only half-engaged.
She’d told herself righteously that she would not be used simply because Rory needed to establish a residence in the district. He had enough money to persuade somebody to sell, but would she really shoot him down if that was all he wanted from her? Truth be told, she wasn’t sure she had the fortitude to turn him away. Spending the night in his arms—well...nights plural—had been the most exciting thing she’d ever experienced. Rory Fentress was focused and driven, whether in regard to his career or in proving to a woman that she was the most desirable female he’d ever met.
Those breathless hours and days in his arms had proven to her that chick flick movies and steamy romance novels were not entirely fiction. Turns out, there were men who could make a woman do crazy things...things like falling in love with the wrong man at the wrong time.
She snorted aloud and then winced, hoping none of her crew had overheard. She wasn’t in love with Rory Fentress...surely she wasn’t. More like an intense infatuation built on sizzling sexual attraction. Of course that didn’t explain why she ached for the man constantly. But if she ever she gave him what he wanted, there was a good chance he would walk away, leaving her with nothing. No home, and certainly no one to love.
Argh. She was not ready for this. Not at all.
As she washed up in the mudroom and changed from her work boots into soft slippers, she found her hands trembling. What did he expect from her? Were they supposed to slip up to her bedroom and make wild passionate love in broad daylight?
Her stomach flip-flopped. Lord, give her strength.
At the kitchen, she paused in the doorway, drinking in the sight of him. He was now wearing old faded jeans, scarred cowboy boots and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Gone was the sophisticated politician. In his place was an even more virile and appealing Texas cowboy, one who had grown up in Royal, though he’d been a couple of years ahead of Shannon in school.
She forced herself to enter the room. “I’m starving. Thanks for putting this together.” He had found plates and glassware in the cupboard. The ham sandwiches were larger than she would have made, but he’d probably fixed them according to his appetite.
He held out her chair, making her feel like a lady rather than a woman who had recently worn muck-covered boots. Her throat tightened when she spotted the clear-glass mason jar in the center of her worn table. Somewhere in the yard he’d scrounged up a bouquet of halfhearted wild daisies. The water in the container had revived them a bit, but they still looked as if they were clinging to life. The gesture affected her deeply.
“Dig in,” Rory said, taking his own seat. “I suggest we call a truce for the moment. It’s too pretty a day to argue.”
They ate in silence for several minutes. He had poured her a tall glass of cold milk. Vividly, she remembered him teasing her repeatedly about her preference for the childhood beverage. He had promised to help her acquire a taste for champagne, and had fulfilled that promise by dribbling the bubbly liquid over her naked breasts and making her writhe and moan as he licked every drop from her tingling skin.
It had happened the last weekend he was in town....
She panted, inches away from an exquisite orgasm. “I don’t see how that helps,” she complained. “You got all the benefit from that bottle.”
“All?” He lifted an eyebrow, his gaze teasing. “Not to worry. I have more for you.” Popping the cork on a second bottle, he poured a couple of inches in a glass and handed it to her. Perhaps what she’d had in the past was a cheap vintage, because this golden liquid was like nectar of the gods, its crisp sweet bite rolling over her tongue like ambrosia.
Eyes hooded, Rory watched her as she downed his offering recklessly. Her little hiccup at the end made him grin.
“I feel like I’m debauching an innocent,” he said, apparently unrepentant.
Leaning over to where he lay sprawled on the sheets, his magnificent body buck naked, she tilted the glass and let the final few drops run out and fall onto his semi-erect sex. “I may never drink milk again,” she said, her chest heaving as she tried to control her breathing. “Close your eyes and let me enjoy the last taste.”
* * *
Rory had served Shannon milk simply because he knew how much she liked it. But if her glazed eyes and flushed cheeks were any indication as she picked up her glass, she was remembering the one time he had convinced her that champagne had merits as well.
He shifted in his seat, surreptitiously adjusting himself beneath the table. “I thought you were hungry.”
She stared at him blankly, the drink halfway to her mouth. “I am.” She took a sip and set down the tumbler, rapidly picking up her sandwich and taking a bite. When she choked, he offered the milk again.
Waving him away, she blushed beet-red. “I’m fine. Eat your lunch.”
The food could have been cardboard in his mouth for all he noticed. His only intent was to make Shannon remember...even if reminiscing drove him insane. With a deep breath and a mental shake of his head, he decided it would be in both of their best interests, for the moment, to reduce the sexual tension to a more manageable simmer. She needed to understand and accept that he wanted more from her than sex.
“Tell me more about the ranch,” he said. “All I know is that your parents are gone and you run this place by yourself.”
Shannon wiped her lips with a napkin and sat back in her seat, regarding him with suspicion.
It was no wonder. The times they had been together, they’d mostly indulged in the here and now. Getting to know each other had been pushed aside in favor of laughter, kisses and feverish sex.
He was aware that she didn’t like chocolate and that she liked to sleep with the windows open, but beyond such trivialities, they had barely scratched the surface of their individual pasts. So he waited her out, his own gaze bland.
Finally she relaxed. “I’ve had the responsibility four years. Since I was twenty-six. Mom and Dad were caught in bad flash flooding while trying to rescue a calf from the creek. They were swept away and drowned.”
“I’m sorry.” His heart ached for her.
“It was pretty awful. But when I began to recover emotionally, I decided that the best thing I could do to honor their memory was to keep the Bar None alive. It came down through my mom’s side of the family. The original deed goes way back to the 1800s. I’m responsible for a lot of history.”
“I envy you,” he said simply. “I own some beautiful property outside of Austin, but it’s not the same as what you have. There are no roots.”
“Maybe not yet,” she said, with that charming tilt of her lips that had first caught his eye. When she smiled, her face went from pretty to stunningly beautiful, lit from within by a personality that was bubbly and flirty and full of fun.
He looked away for a moment, tamping down his impulse to drag her across the table. Clearing his throat, he took a long swig of his tea. “What’s your specialty here on the Bar None?” If she kept looking at him like that, he was going to have a hard time staying on track.
“I run a fairly large herd of Santa Gertrudis. They’re a sturdy lot, and they keep a roof over my head. In the last couple of years I’ve even begun to hope we might make a decent profit in the near future.”
“Was the ranch always so close to the edge?”
“Oh, no. When my dad was alive, things flourished. But the year I took over, I made some dumb mistakes. Lost a number of animals to illness. Didn’t sell at the right times. Also lost calves that should have lived. But I learned slowly.” She grimaced. “That’s enough of me. I know your childhood wasn’t the greatest. Tell me about it.”
He shrugged, standing up to pace her small kitchen, uneasy with rehashing the years that had nearly wrecked his life. “My dad was a drifter. He hung around long enough to give me a legal name and then he hit the road. My mom was one of those women who lived in hope that her man would come back someday. She drank a lot. Most of the time I raised myself. By the time I was a teenager, I was pretty much angry all the time.”
“But you got past that.”
“Eventually. I worked for Old Man Pritchard for a while as a ranch hand...right after I graduated. Remember him? He took a liking to me and after that first year, sent me off to school...helped me with scholarship applications, job searches, all that stuff. In college I no longer carried around my reputation from being a badass in Royal. Suddenly I had a clean slate and the chance to be who I ought to have been long before then. I realized that I wanted to use my brain and make something of myself.”
“I’d say it worked.”
“I was lucky. I could have ended up on another path pretty easily.”
“Is it true that you want to run for governor one day?”
Her blunt question took him aback. Not really a topic he wanted to discuss. At least not yet.
He leaned against the counter. “Let’s save that for later. I’d rather you show me your bedroom at the moment.”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted. “I...uh...”
“I know you remember what it’s like with us. Trust me, Shannon. I’m not going to hurt you. Can you do that?”
