Expecting the Rancher's Child
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Sara Orwig
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HarlequinOne
Eagerness gripped Sierra Benson as the time arrived for her appointment with Blake Callahan.
She had done interior design for him, but that had been nearly two years ago and she’d never actually met him. Since she’d finished that job, and received a personal note of thanks from him, she’d changed careers. She was now director of Brigmore Charities of Kansas City, Kansas.
She hoped he’d asked to meet with her to make a contribution.
She’d read enough about him to know he was thirty-four, six years older than she was, a Texas multimillionaire, a hotel mogul and a rancher with interests in commercial real estate. Excitement bubbled in her to think their nonprofit might be getting a sizable donation.
Breaking into her thoughts, her assistant, Nan Waverley, announced her visitor’s arrival.
“Send him in, please,” Sierra said, as she stood and gave a pat to her light brown hair, pinned at the back of her head. She smoothed her straight brown skirt and looked up as Nan opened her office door.
“Thank you, Nan,” she said—or that’s what she hoped she said, anyway. Coming face to face with Blake momentarily took her breath.
She had seen pictures of Blake Callahan and knew he was nice looking, single and had an active social life, but she wasn’t prepared for the dynamic man who, without one word, seemed to charge the air with energy as he entered her office. Even more startling, she was caught and held by brown eyes so dark they looked black. With their gazes locked, a sizzling current rocked her.
An even bigger surprise shook her when she noticed a flicker in the depths of his eyes. His chest expanded with a deep breath—he appeared jolted by the same magnetic charge that captured her. With an effort, she gathered her wits and turned away, ending the eye contact. She crossed the room to shake hands with him.
“Mr. Callahan, I’m Sierra Benson, and it’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, trying to regain her poise.
The handshake was a mistake. The instant his warm fingers closed over hers, the same riveting current jumpstarted again, only stronger this time.
Snagged by another exchange with his mesmerizing gaze, she stood breathless, aware of the physical contact, even more conscious that he was as immobile as she. How long did they stand in silence, held by a handshake and eye contact?
She slipped her hand out of his.
“It’s Blake and, I hope, Sierra,” he said easily in a deep voice. His tone sounded casual, friendly, but his look was probing, as if trying to find something that would explain why they were caught in an invisible current.
“Fine,” she answered, striving to get a firm note into her tone. “Please, have a seat. I missed meeting you at the grand opening of your hotel because of a family emergency. Decorating your hotel was an exciting project.”
Blake sat across from her, with her ancient hardwood desk between them. In an impeccable navy suit and a shirt with French cuffs that revealed gold cufflinks, Blake could have been a model—except he conveyed the signs of a man accustomed to more physical activity. He moved with an ease that indicated a high degree of fitness.
She suspected he had not been in any office in his life that was as run-down as hers. In his elegant clothes, he looked out of place in the eighty-three-year-old building that had not been maintained well. Tattered, faded books lined her shelves. The wooden floor had long ago lost its luster. Gusts of March wind rattled the aging windowpanes behind her.
“You did the best job on that hotel of any interior designer we’ve ever hired,” Blake said.
“Thank you,” she answered, pleased to hear that kind of praise.
“I was surprised to discover you’ve left the business when you have a natural talent for design.”
“Thanks again. Helping others is my first love, so when this opportunity arose, I took it. We do a lot of good for people, which I’ll be happy to tell you about. I assume that’s why you’re here.” She settled back in her chair.
When he shook his head, her spirits plummeted. “No? Your response is an immense disappointment,” she admitted. “If you’re not here to make a donation, why are you here, Mr. Callahan?”
“It’s Blake,” he reminded her with a smile that momentarily made her forget business. It was warm, disarming and added to his appeal. She tried to focus and pay attention to what he was saying.
“I’m building a new wing on my ranch house in Texas. You’re the best at interior design, and I’d like to hire you.”
“I’d hoped you were here to learn about our charities and to possibly help in some way. I appreciate the job offer, but I have to decline,” she answered as her disappointment increased. “I’m sorry you wasted time and effort to come talk to me in person.” She smiled at him. “I wish you’d give me some time and let me tell you about all we do here to help those who need a lift.”
“We have a problem,” he said, studying her with those riveting eyes that scrambled her thoughts. “If we try, perhaps we can do both—I’ll help with your charities and you consider my ranch job,” he answered pleasantly, but she knew he was telling her he would listen if she agreed to what he wanted.
“I appreciate your offer. It’s flattering, but I’m not leaving this work. It means too much to me. This was the work my grandfather loved, and before he died I promised to continue it.”
“If you’d take this job, which would only be short-term, I could make it worth your while,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her last remarks.
She smiled. He obviously did not take refusal easily.
“My interests are here,” she replied. “You can find talented interior designers who can do your new wing,” she added, wondering when he would give up trying to persuade her to do what he wanted.
They sat in silence a moment before he took out a checkbook and wrote. She suspected he would try to offer her more than the usual amount to do the decorating job for him. That aura of confidence surrounding him indicated he was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted. The money would be tempting, but she could find money elsewhere.
Certain he would offer an exorbitant sum, she watched as he wrote a second check.
Now he leaned forward, stretching out a long arm to place the two checks on her desk. “One of these is for your work on the new wing at my ranch. You’ll have to live there to get the job done, but it shouldn’t take more than a few weeks. The other check is a donation to this agency, and if everything is satisfactory, I’ll make the same donation annually for at least three years.”
Stunned, she looked at two identical checks, each for half a million dollars. For a moment she was speechless, trying to digest his offer.
“Why would you offer me so much money? There are other excellent decorators.”
“I don’t know them or their work. You’re the best choice for the job. Besides, now that we’ve met, I’d like to get to know you.”
Yes, there was chemistry between them—she couldn’t deny it. But his admission that he’d like to get to know her only increased her reluctance about the job. She hoped to avoid ever being in a situation like her last job—where her boss tried to bribe her into his bed.
Staring at the checks on her desk, she forgot the past. She couldn’t ignore the money Blake would pour into her nonprofit, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the good that could be accomplished by his incredibly generous donation. And the promise of more donations to come. Her head spun with possibilities, dreams they had for the charity to grow. The kind of money Blake offered would take years to accumulate.
“You would really do this?” she whispered, looking up at him. “Just to get my design services?”
“Yes. And if it works out well, you’ll get more donations,” he said with a coaxing smile. As she looked at the check again, he sat in silence.
There was no way she could turn down such a dazzling offer that would put so much money into Brigmore Charities. It was thrilling to think how many people they could reach. Without looking up, she considered the man sitting across from her. She had seen his picture in society pages, Texas magazines and occasionally on television. He had an active social life, and a lot of the pictures had shown him escorting beautiful women.
“You actually live and work in Dallas most of the time, don’t you?” she asked.
“One week out of each month I’m in Dallas, unless something important interferes. The ranch is where I prefer to be.”
Realizing she might have to deal with him on a daily basis, she considered the job. In spite of his remark about wanting to know her, she could ensure they had no contact with each other socially. She suspected he received few rejections from women, but his sexual interests would not involve her. In spite of his personal remark, he would want her to concentrate on the job he had hired her to do.
The money he offered danced in her thoughts, with possibilities of how to use it to do the most good. There was no way she could turn him down, which she was certain he knew.
She nodded. “You win. I accept your offer. This is a marvelous, breathtaking contribution.”
“It may be breathtaking, but it isn’t solely a contribution—it’s also payment for your work,” he corrected with a slight smile, causing creases to bracket his mouth and making her pulse flutter. She had to admit he was appealing. Briefly, it occurred to her again that the huge sum might carry expectations of seduction, but she immediately dismissed the worry. He had enough beautiful society women in his life who were willing to keep him happy.
“I’ll want to hire at least two people to assist me, and I’ll pay them out of the check you’ve given me.”
“No. I’ll take care of their salaries. Just give me the bill.”
“How soon do you want me to start?” she asked, still shocked by the sudden change in her schedule and the huge windfall.
“As soon as you can manage. Next week would be great. I’m anxious to get this wing finished.”
She pulled her calendar close, though she knew she could start Monday. He couldn’t be any more anxious to finish than she was, because as soon as she was done she could focus her full attention on Brigmore Charities’ projects—and now she would have the funds to accomplish some of the agency’s goals.
Years ago, the agency, started by Clyde Brigmore, one of her grandfather’s friends, had almost gone under until her grandfather got involved, and with the support of her dad’s church and her grandfather’s hard work, the agency went from running a very small homeless shelter to supporting a larger shelter as well as a children’s shelter. In the past year they had opened an animal rescue branch. Now many churches in Kansas City helped support the agency, along with individual donations, and most of her work focused on acquiring funding. It was work she loved, and through it she felt close to her grandfather.
She realized Blake was talking and she needed to pay attention. She tried to focus on Blake Callahan.
“Would you like that?” he asked, and she felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry. It’s difficult to get my mind away from the changes in my life and the fabulous contribution you just made. What did you say to me?”
His dark eyes twinkled with amusement. “I’m glad you’re pleased with our deal. I’m very pleased with it. What I asked was about transportation. If you’d like, I have a private jet. I can have you flown to Dallas, where a limo will take you to the ranch, which is about an hour and a half away from the airport.”
“Thank you. I’ll accept that invitation. If I start Monday, I’d like to arrive Sunday and get settled.”
“That works. I’ll be at the ranch, and I’ll show you around.”
She nodded, unable to keep from looking again at the spectacular checks.
“Then we have a deal?” he asked.
She looked up into black, fathomless eyes that seemed to hide his feelings. “We have a deal,” she replied, feeling a tingle.
For a fleeting moment she wondered what she had gotten herself into. What would it be like working with him daily, staying in his home, having him constantly close at hand? The questions made her pulse race...but then common sense said he would turn supervision of the job over to someone and go on with his life.
In a languid manner, he stood. “If you have any questions, feel free to call me. Here’s my business card and another number that’s private. If you’ll let me know your preference for what time of day you’d like to leave Kansas City, I’ll let you know about the flight arrangements.”
“Thanks. I can tell you right now, I’ll be ready to leave after twelve Sunday.”
“How should I contact you?”
She took a card off her desk and held it out to him. “My cell number is there, and you can always get me that way.” As their fingers brushed, she had another flash of physical awareness of him.
She shrugged away the feeling as ridiculous. She couldn’t understand the tingly reaction she had to him—that had never happened with any other man, but it was meaningless at this point in her life. She wasn’t dating because she was focused on her work. This was a business arrangement, and she intended to keep her relationship with Blake Callahan professional.
She walked him to the door where he turned. This time she avoided offering her hand. Even so, as she stood looking up at him, dark eyes searched hers for a few seconds as they stood in silence. “This should be good for both of us,” he said in a husky voice that heated her.
“I hope so,” she said faintly.
He opened the door and stepped out before turning again.
“I’ll text the flight arrangements and have a limo take you to the plane. The chauffeur will pick you up wherever you want.”
“Thank you. That’s a huge convenience. Until then, thank you for the donation, and the job and for having so much faith in me.”
“I’ve seen the results of your work,” he answered. He turned to leave and paused at her assistant’s scarred desk, which had one leg missing and was propped up with bricks. He told Nan that he was glad to have met her, and then, smiling at Sierra and her assistant, he left.
When he had disappeared from sight, she turned to her assistant. “I’m going to take some time off. He’s hired me to do a decorating job at his ranch.”
“Mercy! I’d take that job, too. That’s the most handsome man to ever walk through this office. Don’t tell Bert I said that.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Sierra said with a smile, thinking about her assistant director, Bert Hollingsworth, who was six years older than she was, with sandy hair he never could get totally under control and gray eyes that held a perpetual worried look. She had been friends with him since the moment they were introduced. Unlike her response to Blake Callahan, Bert had never once evoked any physical reaction in her.
Reassuring herself once again that she would see little of Blake once she was on the job, she tried to shove him out of mind.
“Will you please call Bert and then both of you come to my office? We have some things to discuss.”
Giving her a quizzical look, Nan nodded and picked up a phone, repeating Sierra’s instructions to Bert.
Sierra left her door open as she hurried to her desk and sat, taking the checks in hand to stare at them again in amazement. All that money—her head spun at the thought. She had promised her grandfather she would continue his hard work and help people when they needed help.
She had been raised to believe in the good in people, and every week she had proof of that goodness from one person or another. Blake Callahan couldn’t understand why she’d left interior design, but her career in nonprofit work was about what really counted in life. She had great faith in the ability of the human spirit to overcome adversity.
Shortly, Nan and Bert entered her office, Bert with his usual smile. “How’d the meeting go?”
“That’s the reason I wanted to talk to you. He’s hired me to do the interior design for a wing he’s built onto his ranch house. I’ll have to take a leave of absence.”
“I thought you gave up that career,” Bert said, frowning slightly.
“I thought so, too, but he gave me two payments—one for my work, and one as a donation to this agency. Here are the identical checks—each one for half a million.” She passed the checks to Bert, who shared them with Nan. Bert stared open-mouthed while Nan read the amounts again. Nan’s eyes were wide as she looked at Sierra.
“All that money to our agency,” she whispered.
“Saints above.” Bert shook his head, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “I knew the man was wealthy, but this—I never dreamed we’d get this kind of donation.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t faint,” Nan said. “You don’t even have to share that with your old design firm.”
“No, but I’ll share my personal check with Brigmore Charities. I’m also going to share with Dad and his church. Just think what good we can do with all this money.”
“I may faint,” Bert said. “No wonder you took the job. How could he want you that badly?”
“He thought I did a good job on his hotel. I turned him down at first, but I don’t think the man is accustomed to hearing no. And there’s more. If I do a good job, he will make an annual contribution of this amount to Brigmore Charities for the next three years.”
Bert shook his head as if in denial.
“Is he single?” Nan asked.
Sierra bit back a smile. “Very. When I worked for him before, I heard gossip that he doesn’t have serious relationships.”
“I think you ought to use a little of that money for a background check on him. He wants you too badly,” Bert said.
Sierra smiled and shook her head. “I don’t think a background check is necessary. Look him up on the internet and look up his business. He can afford this check without thinking about it. His father is a billionaire, and Blake Callahan is wealthy on his own. There are a lot of women in his life. He has no need of me, except as a decorator.”
“Want me to come with you?” Bert asked, a frown creasing his brow. Sierra held back another smile.
“Thanks, Bert. I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“If for any reason it becomes necessary, you call me and I’ll be right there.”
“I will,” she said, appreciating his offer, though it seemed ridiculous. “I won’t be alone. I’m hiring two people to help me. He’ll pay their salaries, and they’ll live on the ranch with me part of the time.”
“That’s good,” Bert said.
“If you need a secretary, don’t forget me,” Nan said, smiling.
For the next half hour they talked about depositing the check and presenting the donation to the Brigmore Charities’ board of directors.
Finally, Nan rose to go back to her desk. Bert came to his feet, he closed the door and returned.
“I want to talk to you.”
She sat behind her desk and waited.
“I don’t think you should take the job or accept the check.”
“You have got to be kidding,” she said, staring intently at him. “Why on earth not?”
“He’s up to something. That’s too much money.”
She held back a laugh. “I’ll repeat—Blake Callahan will never miss this money.”
“Why didn’t he go to the New York agency he hired when you first worked for him?”
“He should have, but he said I did the best job he’d ever seen. He’s accustomed to getting what he wants. He’s flying me there in his private jet. Stop worrying, and start thinking about the best use for this money.”
Bert shook his head and stood. “All right, but at the first sign of trouble, promise you’ll call me. Let me know where this ranch is.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, smiling at him, knowing Bert had perpetual worries even when everything was rosy.
“If you’re okay...what a windfall for us. This is going to help a lot of people. Our buildings are old and need repair—the homeless shelter was the original charity and it needs a new roof, new plumbing—all sorts of things. We have a waiting list for the orphaned children and their building and grounds need work.”
“Plus the four-footed friends. Don’t forget our dog and cat shelter. This will buy a lot of chow, and we can run some great ads. Maybe we can get a bigger place because what we have is so tiny we can only take a few animals at a time.”
“True. I’ll get busy.”
“Good,” she said and watched him go, leaving her door open behind him.
She knew Bert’s worries were unnecessary, but there was only one threat from Blake Callahan.
That sizzling attraction that flared the first second they looked into each other’s eyes. Never again would she get involved with an employer—yet how well could she protect herself from Blake’s sexy appeal?
* * *
Late Friday afternoon Blake flew home to Dallas, where he had a small plane waiting to fly southwest to the tiny airstrip at Downly, Texas. At Downly he climbed into his waiting car and headed west to his ranch.
While he drove along a county road devoid of traffic, he thought about Sierra Benson. He hadn’t met her when she did the hotel job, so he had been startled when the air sparked with a chemistry that he suspected she felt as much as he did.
Some of the most beautiful women he’d dated had never caused that kind of reaction in him. When he had taken Sierra’s hand, the impersonal contact had had the impact of a blow to his middle, a tug on his senses that made him want to get to know her. His reaction to her had blown his intentions to hire her all out of proportion.
He had wanted her to handle the decor of his new wing because she was the best at interior design and decoration he had ever met. Add the intense physical appeal to her business skills, and he wasn’t about to let her disappear out of his life. He had overreacted by offering so much money, but when had a woman ever set his pulse pounding by merely saying hello? Or shaking hands with him?
Her stay at his ranch should be interesting. He knew he had acted impulsively, and in what was an uncustomary manner for him, but he didn’t want her to say no and disappear out of his life before he got to know her. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her. The thought set his heart racing.
Maybe their attraction was something that happened at first meeting and wouldn’t happen again. With the smoldering chemistry between them, he couldn’t keep from dreaming of seduction.
Dream on, he thought. She was wrapped up in saving the world and would probably be earnest, wanting marriage if there was a relationship.
They were from two different worlds—her whole aim in life was helping others, a commendable ambition, but not practical. At some point reality would hit, and she would give it up. Right now, it seemed ridiculous for her to toss aside a career she had a tremendous talent for to do charity work. She could have had her own design firm! Instead, she looked at the world through rose-colored glasses and saw everyone as filled with a basic goodness—which was not practical.
This was a lesson he had learned early in life when his father abandoned him. There was nothing good about a man who would dump his wife and small child, cutting them permanently out of his life. He never gave time or attention, and they had been hurt repeatedly by his indifference. Eventually, Sierra would learn that not everyone could be saved.
He’d learned about the realities of human nature at an early age, watching his father be honored for his philanthropy only to turn around and lie to get what he wanted, cheat on his wife and abandon his children.
Sierra would soon be like the rest of the world—as out for herself as the next person, and all her sweet talk about saving souls would be a memory. That was human nature.
No, she was not his type in any way—except for that hot, intense, mutual attraction.
A scalding attraction he intended to pursue in spite of their differences, because it was obvious she felt it too. He intended to clear his calendar and spend some time at his ranch while she was there.
He had planned on being at the ranch this week, anyway, so it would work out well with her starting Monday.
Then he would find out if that mutual attraction was a first-meeting fluke—or something more.
* * *
Sunday afternoon Sierra watched from her window as the plane lifted from the tarmac and gained altitude, revealing Kansas City spread below. Her gaze traveled around the plush interior of the aircraft with its luxurious reclining leather seats, tables between them, a magazine cabinet, a television screen and a laptop. The plane circled the city and headed south.
As she flew, she checked again to see that she had the phone numbers for two people she had worked with who now had their own New York agency. They had accepted her offer to work on Blake’s ranch house, and they would start Monday.
Eli Thompkins was a quiet presence and excellent at interior design. She had admired his work before she graduated and gotten into the business, and she would be happy to work with him.
Lucinda Wells had started as an interior designer at the same time as Sierra. She was talented, specializing in contemporary design. Eli and Lucinda would look for art, paintings and sculptures, as well as furnishings. Sierra had already given them a few suggestions.
She’d taken care of the donation details with Bert before she left. She tried to focus on all the wonderful improvements and opportunities Blake’s money would provide, but nothing could distract her from the tingly anticipation of seeing him again. Would she have the same sizzling reaction to him?
She hoped not, because that would complicate her job. Blake was far too cynical; his dismissal of her current work was proof of that. It was as if he was unable to see the goodness in others. She couldn’t understand his outlook on life, and he didn’t seem to understand hers. She needed to keep him out of her thoughts.
What was even worse, she hadn’t slept well because of dreams that included Blake—dreams she definitely didn’t want.
Had he felt anything when they’d met? Or had she imagined his response?
She suspected that by tomorrow morning she would have her answers.
Right on schedule, they touched down at Love Field in Dallas. She thanked the pilot and departed, crossing to the waiting white limo for another luxurious ride.
When they finally turned onto the ranch road, they passed beneath a wrought-iron arch with the name BC Ranch.
As they approached Blake’s house, she saw barns, outbuildings and a sprawling two-story stone ranch house that had to have cost a fortune. Slate roofs glistened in the sunlight, and she could spot the new wing because of construction equipment still in the yard. In front of the house sprinklers slowly revolved, watering the lawn and beds of early spring flowers bordering the porch.
As she remembered Blake’s midnight eyes and black hair, butterflies danced in her stomach. She hoped when they greeted each other she felt nothing except eagerness to start this job and gratitude for his donation.
The limo drove around the house, pulled beneath a portico and stopped. Blake stepped out and approached them. In jeans, a navy Western-style shirt and black boots, he looked like the successful rancher he was.
The driver opened her door and she stepped out of the limo. When she looked up into Blake’s brown eyes, she realized this job would not be as easy as she had hoped, because a sizzling current rocked her to her toes.
How was she going to work with this tall, handsome man without giving in to this attraction?
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