The Rancher's Marriage Pact (3 page)

“She sounded pretty desperate to us,” Jenny chimed in, then clamped her mouth closed after Maria shot her a nasty look over her shoulder.

Dallas wasn't all that shocked, but he was pretty pissed off over the intrusion. “You two were listening to our conversation?”

“Just a little bit,” Jenny said sheepishly. “Your phone's intercom was on.”

He looked at the key pad, noted the button was depressed and then muttered a few mild oaths. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“We didn't want to disturb you,
mijo
,” Maria said.

Dallas didn't buy that for a minute. “You wanted to eavesdrop. Regardless of how desperate Paris might be, I don't see her as the kind of woman who'd agree to marry a stranger in exchange for a job. And I'm not the kind of man who would ask that of any woman.”

Jenny put on her sweeter-than-honey expression. “Sugar, I love my son, but I also know Fort doesn't deserve this place given how much grief he's showered on me and Worth. Why don't you just invite Paris to dinner tonight and see what happens?”

He'd like to see what happened, but not in the way she was thinking. “I'm sure she's already halfway to San Antonio by now and I've got a lot do before I fly to Houston in two days.”

“You can take one night off,” Maria stated, a totally out-of-character comment.

“Yes, you can, for the cause,” Jenny added. “Now go after her, sugar, and escort her back here. I can make you both my famous chateaubriand.”

He saw one big problem with that, and a prime excuse to halt all the nonsense. “She's a vegetarian.”

Maria shook her head. “Yeah, we heard her say that, but it's not normal. Not normal at all.”

“We'll work around it,” Jenny said. “I'll make a wonderful assortment of spring vegetables. That will allow Dallas and Paris to get to know each other better in an intimate setting, not a crowded restaurant.”

Dallas barked out a laugh. “Sure, while the two of you hang out in the next room, listening to every word we say.”

Jenny raised her hand like she was about to take an oath. “I swear I will leave as soon as the food is served. Maria will, too. Right?”

Maria stared up at Jenny. “Why do you need me there anyway?”

“For moral support,” Jenny answered. “And you can make Dallas his usual T-bone, since that's not my forte.”

Maria sighed. “It's easy. Remove the horns, slap it on the stove, make sure it's not mooing and put it on the plate.”

Jenny ignored Maria and took his hand. “Sugar, we'll work out the dinner details. In the meantime, you just have to convince Paris to join you by telling her you want to discuss the particulars of the job, sort of like an interview. Then you can see what comes up after that.”

He had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what would come up if he didn't get a rein on his libido. Logical or not, he did like the plan, if for no other reason than to spend a little more time with Paris. As far as the mothers' harebrained matrimony scheme was concerned, no way would that happen.

After pushing away from the desk, he stood and propped his hat on his head. “All right, you two. Get to cooking and I'll go get the girl.”

Two

S
eated in her compact sedan, Paris stared at the private number displayed on her phone. Normally she would ignore the call, but some mysterious force propelled her to answer. “Hello?”

“Where are you right now?”

Overcome with sudden paranoia, she looked around the almost empty lot for some seedy no-account who'd magically come upon her cell number. “Who is this?”

“Sorry. It's Dallas Calloway. Are you back in San Antonio?”

“No,” she said after she'd regained enough composure to speak. “I'm at a convenience store somewhere between Cotulla and Dilley. Or maybe I've already passed Dilley and missed it when I blinked.”

“Right off the interstate?”

“Yes. It's a red-and-white building with some weird creature on the sign, but I can't see the name from here.”

“I know the place. Stay put. I'll be there in a few.”

Paris didn't have the opportunity to say another word before the line went dead, leaving her with a laundry list of questions bombarding her brain. Why would he want to come after her? Had she left something important at the office? She glanced at the passenger seat to verify the presence of her briefcase, although only a few moments ago she'd just carried it into the store to pay for gas and buy a snack. Speaking of snacks...she yanked down the visor and pulled up the vanity mirror to check for the presence of chocolate, which she found smeared in the corner of her mouth.

Paris scrambled around in the center console for a napkin, then swiped furiously over the offensive spot while cursing herself for being such a cliché. Have stress, grab candy. Preferably chocolate candy. Dark, light, didn't matter. As long as it contained cocoa and no nuts.

After reapplying her lipstick, and tightening the hair band securing the low twist at her nape, she waited for the enigmatic cowboy to arrive in a pickup, or possibly ride up on his trusty horse.

The first assumption had been correct, she realized, when a large dual-wheeled black monstrosity of a truck pulled in the space to her right and its dashing driver left the cab.

As Dallas approached the door, Paris powered down her window to find out what his surprise appearance was all about. “Did I forget something?” she asked as soon as he arrived.

“Nope,” he said. “But I forgot to ask you something.”

“What would that be, pray tell?”

“If you'd care to stay for dinner.”

Only moments ago, she'd consumed a large bar of candy and washed it down with cola so dinner wasn't all that appealing. But maybe this was his way of saying he might be considering her for the position after all. “Dinner would be nice, but wouldn't it have been much easier for you to call me and ask me to come back rather than you drive all the way here?”

“Yep, that fifteen-minute drive was a real hardship, but here the West is still wild, and the men go after their women.”

She'd give him a speech on the death of chauvinism if he didn't look so gorgeous displaying that grin and a delightful dimple. “Far be it from me to question archaic tradition.”

He leaned over and folded his arms on the window's ledge. “Are you going to follow me home, or do you want to ride with me and I'll bring you back later to get your car?”

Although he seemed harmless enough, Paris wasn't stupid. If she didn't have her vehicle, she couldn't determine when it was time to go. “I know the way now. I'll drive.”

He pushed away from the car and straightened. “Fine by me. See you in a bit.”

In less time than it took Paris to fasten her seat belt, Dallas shot out of the lot on spinning tires, kicking up a flurry of dust in his wake as he turned onto the access road. She took a little more time following suit, still questioning the reason behind his surprise invitation.

Yet life wasn't without risk, and she'd taken plenty in her formative years. Some had turned out well, others, not so much. She hoped this risk proved to be a good one.

After traveling ten or so miles, she found Dallas had pulled over on the shoulder to wait for her. He seemed to slow down to accommodate her caution, and remained that way until they turned off the interstate and onto the rural road leading to the ranch.

Once they traveled through the elaborate stone entry containing the iron sign announcing their arrival at the D Bar C, Dallas drove past the office where the barren terrain took a dramatic turn. Paris glanced from the road long enough to ogle the massive white rock ranch house to her left as Dallas continued on. They passed by several other large houses set back off the road, each one appearing to include transplanted trees, lovely landscaping, first-rate barns and expensive vehicles, including one black Porsche that she would wager belonged to Worth. After Dallas took a left, pavement soon turned to gravel as they navigated through pastureland lined with barbwire fence and dotted with mesquite.

They soon passed a large pond lined with weeping willows where a two-story, expansive home came into view, dealing Paris another stunning mental blow. The structure was also stone trimmed with cedar accents, like the rest of the residences, only this one had a gleaming silver metal roof and seemed to be twice the size, as well as a tad more elaborate. If she didn't know better, she would have thought she'd happened upon a resort hotel.

Dallas pulled beneath the portico and Paris followed his lead, half expecting to be greeted by a parking attendant. When that didn't happen, she slid out of the car and joined her host for the evening at the entry. “Nice place you have here,” she said as he opened one of the heavy pine double doors.

“It'll do,” he replied with surprising nonchalance.

It would more than do, she realized after she stepped over the threshold. A grand staircase with a wrought iron banister centered in the soaring foyer, and dark slate floors could be deemed somewhat elegant. Yet that was where the elegance ended, right before the West began.

As Paris trailed behind Dallas into the great room, the cowboy culture came shining through in the floor-to-ceiling rock fireplace anchoring the room along with the macho leather furniture in shades of gray and black. And hanging from the towering ceiling, a chandelier, for lack of a better term, appeared to be made out of metallic animal horns, although she would swear they weren't authentic. At least she hoped not.

“Welcome to Dallas's little piece of heaven, Paris,” Jenny said as she floated into the room wearing a frilly pink apron and a vibrant smile.

Odd that Dallas didn't have household staff and had to rely on his stepmother to play hostess. “Thanks for having me, and I have to agree. This place is paradise.”

Jenny's grin deepened. “You should see the veranda overlooking the pool, which is where you two will dine so you can watch the sunset. The view is breathtaking.”

Dallas frowned. “I'm thinking the dining room might be better since it's still fairly hot outside and the mosquitoes are big as airplanes.”

Jenny waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Oh, posh, Dallas. You don't have a romantic bone in your body. Besides, the temperature will go down with the sun and it's too early in the year for a lot of bugs, including mosquitoes.”

A sunset dinner was conducive to romance, but Paris was not in the market for wining and dining or mosquitoes. “The dining room will be fine.” When Jenny looked absolutely disappointed, she added, “Or the veranda. I'm sure the sunset is very impressive.”

“The veranda it is,” Jenny said as she started to back away. “Dinner will be ready very soon and I assure you, Paris, I'm preparing a delectable vegetarian meal. In the meantime, Dallas can give you the VIP tour. His master suite is to die for.”

She questioned the wisdom in viewing Dallas's bedroom. “I'm looking forward to it. The tour, I mean.”

Jenny smiled before she hurried away, leaving Dallas and Paris standing in the middle of the great room cloaked in uncomfortable silence.

“Are you ready for the tour?” he asked.

As long as he didn't get too close to her in the boudoir; otherwise she might forget herself in the shadow of that smile. “I'm more than a little curious, so lead the way.”

“Okay. Follow me.”

And she did, up the stairs, trying desperately to avoid studying his butt before they took an immediate right at the top landing. They walked by several closed doors before reaching the end of the corridor where Dallas paused at a pair of double doors.

“Prepare yourself,” he said. “You're about to see where all the action happens.”

Holding her breath, Paris expected to discover a large bed, but she only saw what appeared to be a cowboy man cave with an at least seventy-inch television screen, a large old-fashioned bar straight out of a saloon and a series of round wooden tables and straight-backed chairs. She strolled toward a large glass display case to her right that housed trophies and belt buckles and trinkets from days past. “Is this the Dallas Calloway Hall of Fame?”

“Not exactly,” he said from behind her. “If I had my way, those things would've stayed in the trunk in the tack room.”

She glanced at him over one shoulder. “You should be proud of these. Not many men can lay claim to being a three-time world champion all-around cowboy.”

“Funny, that's what Maria said.” He came to her side, showing his handsome profile to full advantage. “She set this up after I built the house.”

Time to get to know him a bit better. “You two are close, huh?”

He streaked a palm over his neck. “Yeah. She's the only mother I've ever really known. Then Jen came into the mix and now I have two mothers. Double trouble. They mean well but sometimes they're both a little too motherly.”

“Right down to choosing your mate?”

He shot her a smile, throwing her for a mental loop. “They try but I don't listen to them when it comes to my choice in female companionship.”

That led Paris to a question she'd been dying to ask, perhaps at her own detriment if she dared. “You really don't have a girlfriend waiting somewhere in the wings?”

He turned those silver-blue eyes on her. “Nope. I've had a couple of steady girlfriends in the past, but rodeo and relationships didn't mix well.”

“Apparently you no longer rodeo, so do you see yourself eventually settling down?”

He sent her an odd look before he brought his attention back to the mementos from his past. “Only if and when the time is right.”

“I'm sure you're considered quite the catch in these parts. Probably throughout the state.”

He turned and leaned a shoulder against the case. “I've had my share of propositions, but it's kind of hard to tell if they're more interested in my personality, or my personal finances.”

Or his stellar physical attributes. “I'm sure more than a few are drawn to the cowboy fantasy and the notion you'll scoop them up and ride off into the sunset.”

“Is that your fantasy?”

Not until that moment. Not until he favored her with that winning, dimpled grin again. “My exposure to cowboys has been nonexistent, so I'd have to say no.”

He inched a little closer. “Now that you've been exposed, do you think you might change your mind?”

Heaven help her, he was flirting like a teenage jock. And she responded like an adolescent schoolgirl with a self-conscious smile. “The jury is still out. I'll let you know after dinner.”

“And I'll do my best to show you there's something to be said for the cowboy way.”

They stood there in silence, tension as thick as a morning haze hanging over them as Dallas's focus landed on her mouth. Paris sensed if she moved just a little closer, gave him just a little encouragement, he might actually kiss her. And she might actually hurl caution to the warm wind and let him.

The sound of staccato footsteps interrupted the moment and drew Paris back into reality and her attention to the doorway where Jenny now stood sporting a knowing look. “Dinner is served, y'all. Just come on out to the veranda when you're finished doing whatever it is you're doing.”

As soon as Jenny disappeared, Paris turned back to Dallas. “Shall we go? I'm suddenly starving.”

“So am I,” he replied, keeping his gaze centered on hers. “Food sounds pretty good, too.”

Paris released a nervous laugh. “I can tell you have a little bad boy in you.”

“Yeah, darlin', I do. But don't ever doubt I'm every bit a man.”

That wasn't up for debate. Paris had a sneaking suspicion if she hung around too long after dinner and let down her guard, she could very well see exactly how manly he could be.

* * *

She was getting under his skin, a dangerous prospect. He didn't need to lose all control around her, but he almost had. He didn't need a woman complicating his life, even if he couldn't deny he needed a woman. But not just any woman.
This
woman.

Dallas pushed his empty plate aside and watched as Paris sipped at the second mint julep Jenny had served her. He'd settled for a beer, but only one, in order to keep his wits about him. He didn't know enough about Paris to bring out the usual moves, even if those fantastic green eyes had reeled him in like a trout on a fly from the minute she'd walked into the office. He brought his attention to her hands, imagined those slender fingers raking across his chest, then traveling lower to the nagging place down south that craved some female attention.

Shaking off the images, Dallas thought it best to talk, not fantasize about her being naked beneath him. “How long have you been a vegetarian?”

She dabbed at her lips then set the napkin aside. “When I started college, I was determined not to gain the typical freshman fifteen. And honestly, when I was in my teens, I was somewhat...chunky.”

He couldn't even imagine that. “Are you kidding?”

“It's true. I wasn't obese, but I was anything but thin. My family moved around a lot and I tended to use food to compensate for the fact I didn't have time to make friends. Before I knew it, I was a regular porker who lived on cheeseburgers and fries.”