His Marriage Pact: The Rancher's Marriage Pact / The Rancher's One-Week Wife / Terms of a Texas Marriage

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.”

“The only way I’d believe that is to see some pictures.”

She shook her head. “No way. Besides, I think I probably destroyed all evidence.”

He downed the last of the beer and pushed the mug away. “You said you moved a lot. Why is that?”

“I was a navy brat. We were rarely in one place for any length of time.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“An older sister. She’s living around the corner from my parents in Idaho with her husband and three kids. My folks are so proud.”

“They’re not proud of you?”

She rimmed a fingertip around the edge of the glass. “Let’s just say they don’t understand my creative nature. Or at least my father never did. He preferred I become a nurse or teacher.”

“A traditionalist, huh?”

“More like a taskmaster. It was always his way or the highway.”

He could relate to that. His father was still controlling his life from the grave. “My dad never liked me devoting all my time to the rodeo. That made him a damn hypocrite since he met my mother on the circuit.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She was a barrel racer and he was a bulldogger.”

“Bulldogger?”

“Steer wrestler.”

She frowned. “Why would you want to wrestle a steer? That sounds rather dangerous.”

He chuckled over her lack of comprehension. “Sorry. I’m just surrounded by women who lived with rodeo cowboys. Most of the time they think they know more about it than I do.”

After downing the last of her drink, she took off her jacket and laid it in her lap, revealing a sleeveless silk top that sparked his imagination. And suddenly he started to sweat.

“Well, you’ll never have to worry about that with me,” she began, “because obviously I know nothing about the rodeo. Not that I’m averse to learning. I’m a quick study.”

Just seeing her bare arms, and a hint of cleavage, brought to mind a few lessons involving his second favorite sport. “I’m a good teacher.”

Smiling, she bent her elbow on the table and supported her cheek with her palm. “When is my first lesson?”

He wanted to suggest tonight, but the fact her voice sounded a little thick led him to believe she might be feeling the effects of the alcohol. “You name the place and the time, and I’ll be there.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she straightened and stared out at the horizon. “This place really surprised me. I was expecting a lot more desertlike terrain, not all this green pastureland. The scenery is really beautiful.”

So was she, and the fact she didn’t seem to realize that only elevated Dallas’s opinion of her. “Yeah, when the sky turns orange at sunset, it makes all the mesquite trees look good.”

She sent him a smile. “Where are you going to put the lodge?”

“On the east side of the property. We’ve surveyed about five acres that will be dedicated to Texas Extreme.”

“How many acres do you have?”

“Ten thousand.”

Her eyes went wide. “Wow. That’s a lot of land.”

He resisted reaching across the table and pushing the strand of hair away from her cheek. “We have a large herd of cattle. In fact, Texas Extreme is going to offer the experience of a good old-fashioned cattle drive, including a camp-out under the stars, complete with a chuck wagon.”

“That actually sounds fun. I’d like to join you.”

“You’d have to learn to ride a horse first.”

“I’m game, as long as it’s a gentle horse.”

“That can be arranged. I have a good gelding. He’s so broke I’d put a five-year-old on him.”

“That would be about my speed.”

“Something tells me you’d be a natural.”

Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Thanks, but don’t count on it. I’m not sure I’ve ever been a natural at anything except designing.”

That put all sorts of questionable images in his mind. “I doubt that. In fact, I’m fairly sure you’re a natural at several things.”

She barked out a soft laugh. “I can’t think of one.”

“I can, but I’m guessing your ex never tapped into your innate abilities.”

“My ex rarely tapped into anything after our first year of marriage.”

Without giving it a thought, Dallas reached over and pushed that sliver of golden hair away from her face. “The man had to be an idiot. Is that why you divorced him?”

She suddenly looked more than a little uncomfortable. “He divorced me, remember? Not that I thought the marriage had any chance of surviving at that juncture. Anyway, I should probably be going before it gets any later.”

He really didn’t want her to leave but he had no one to blame but himself for bringing up past history. “It’s barely eight.”

“And I still have to drive back to San Antonio.”

When Paris pushed back from the table, came to her feet and swayed, Dallas stood and caught her arm. “Are you okay?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I was fine until I got up. Guess I’m a little tired. That drink went straight to my head.”

As he’d predicted, Jenny’s mint juleps had claimed another unsuspecting victim. He should’ve warned Paris that she could be heavy-handed with the bourbon. “Come to think of it, you had two.”

She sent him a shaky smile. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did, which means you’re in no shape to drive.”

Her stern expression didn’t take away from her fantastic face. “I can’t very well stay here.”

“You can, and you will. I have several guest rooms. Five, in fact. Take your pick.” If he had his way, she’d pick his room. But he’d been taught never to take advantage of a woman under the influence.

“I didn’t pack a bag,” she protested. “I’m sure if I lie down for a little while, I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t have much faith in that. “We’ll see how you feel later, but I’m not going to let you get behind the wheel tonight if I think you’re not fit to drive. End of discussion.”

Clasping her elbow, Dallas led Paris through the double sliding doors, into the sunroom and guided her to the great room. He took one look at the towering staircase and decided showing her to his downstairs quarters would be the better part of valor.

He continued down the corridor and past the kitchen where he noticed Jenny cleaning up the dishes. He didn’t dare stop although he knew he’d have to do some serious explaining if she caught sight of them heading to the bedroom. He’d wager his inheritance she had. Not a problem. He had a bone to pick with her over the booze.

Once they arrived at the back of the house, he let go of Paris long enough to open the double doors before grasping her arm to steady her.

She took him by surprise when she wrenched out of his hold and headed to the bed. “This looks heavenly,” she said as she fell back on the mattress and laughed. “What a lovely guest room.”

“It’s my room,” he muttered. “I wasn’t sure you could make it up the stairs.”

She giggled again when she kicked off her shoes and one landed on top of the dresser several feet away, barely missing the mirror. “Are you trying to ruin my reputation, sir?”

“I’m trying to keep you from breaking your neck.” He crossed the room and held out his hands. “Hop up so I can turn down the covers.”

She accepted the gesture but instead of stepping aside, she stepped right into his arms. And then she did the one thing he’d been avoiding all night, yet wanted more than anything. She planted her mouth on his.

She looked like a saint and kissed like a sinner. Oh, yeah, she was a natural. She had mighty fine lips and met his tongue stroke for stroke. He roved his palms down her slender back and paused right before he reached her butt, which took a lot of effort.

He intended to stop it before they went too far. Stop short before it went too deep. But when she pressed that sweet body against his, he tossed all those well-intentioned plans to the plains. And the longer this went on, the more he wanted to take her back onto the bed...or ignore all formality and take her down to the floor.

Without warning, Paris pulled away and touched her fingertips to her mouth like she’d been burned. “I’m not normally that bold.”

He liked her that bold. “You’re not thinking straight.”

“I’m a little bit tipsy,” she said, her speech slurred. “I came here to convince you to hire me, not to drink and make out with you.”

That made him feel like an oversexed teenager. “It was just a kiss, Paris.” One knock-em-dead kiss. “And I’m the one who should’ve stopped it.”

Paris dropped down on the edge of the mattress. “I’m really not...normally...like this.” She followed the comment with a hiccup and a giggle.

“You’ve got a good excuse,” he said as he pulled her up again and set her aside to turn down the comforter. “Now lie down and sleep it off.”

“Okay,” she said through a yawn. “But don’t let me sleep too long. I have to...” Her eyes drifted closed then opened again. “Hmmm. I have to do something tomorrow but I can’t remember what.”

Dallas suspected she’d be there all night, and he’d be spending the evening in another bed, wishing he was beside her. He hooked a thumb behind him. “The bathroom’s there if you need it. Make yourself at home.”

She pulled the band that secured her low ponytail and set it on the nightstand before she perched on the edge of the mattress. “Thank you, Dallas Calloway. You’re a nice man, and I’m sorry I’m not acting like a nice girl.”

He liked his girls a little naughty, he started to say, but began backing to the door when he noticed how sexy she looked with that blond hair curling around her shoulders. “No need to apologize. Just get some rest.”

She stretched her arms over her head and sent him a sleepy smile. “Since I probably blew my chances at the job, I wouldn’t mind another kiss good-night.” She tapped her cheek and smiled. “Just a peck.”

He might laugh at that if he hadn’t been so damn uncomfortable, or tempted to do more than give her just a peck. “We’ll talk later when you’re sober. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

Before he traded in his honor and gave in to animal urges, Dallas rushed out of the room, closed the door behind him and then headed down the hall to confront the culprit who’d created the chaos. Once he reached the kitchen, he found Jenny loading the last of the dishes into the washer. “What in the hell did you put in those drinks?”

Jenny turned toward him and had the gall to look surprised. “Why, honey, just the usual. A little mint, some sugar and water, bourbon. And maybe a touch of tequila.”

That explained a lot. “You added tequila on top of the bourbon?”

She didn’t bother to look contrite. “Yes. It gives the julep that special kick everyone raves about.”

“It kicked my date right into drunk mode.”

Jenny grinned. “Your date?”

“Guest,” he corrected, although he didn’t see much point in getting the details right.

“Maybe I put a little too much alcohol into the drink,” she said, “but I thought it would help Paris relax.”

“Hell, she’s relaxed all right. She’s passed out in my bed.”

“Then why are you in here?”

He was asking himself that same question. “Because there is no way I’m going to seduce a woman who’s intoxicated.”

Jenny leaned back against the counter. “Of course you wouldn’t, sugar. You’re too good for that. However, she won’t be drunk in the morning.”

Of all the confounded suggestions. “I’m going to check on Paris and then I’m going upstairs.”

“I’ll have a nice breakfast waiting for the two of you in the morning.”

“Great.”

Without further comment, Dallas turned around and nearly ran into his other stepmother. “’Night,” he muttered, looking for a quick escape.

Maria had other ideas, he realized, when she grabbed his arm. “Why is the woman still here?”

He didn’t have the energy to explain. “Ask Jenny,” he said as he brushed past her and headed toward his bedroom.

Once there, he opened the door to find Paris curled up on her side, the covers shoved to the end of the bed. She’d stripped down to a white strapless bra and damn if she hadn’t taken off her skirt, giving him a prime view of a pair of lacy, black panties.

Damn, damn, damn...

He should probably turn tail and run, but he worried about leaving her all night in her current state. He could crawl in next to her, or he could be the man Maria had raised him to be. A gentleman.

With that in mind, he strode into the bathroom, dressed in his boxers and a T-shirt, then prepared to sleep in the lounger. But before he settled in for the duration, he paused a few moments to study the gorgeous woman in his bed.

With her arm crooked beneath her head, her hair a sexy, tangled mess, she looked somewhat innocent in sleep, and someone he wouldn’t mind waking up to in the morning. He liked her wit, her brain and her body. Definitely her body. Too bad he hadn’t met her a year ago, when he still had time to court a woman in an effort to meet his match, and circumvent the terms of the will.

But unfortunately that time had passed, and unless he wanted to propose to someone he’d met only a few hours ago, he could just let go of that pipe dream. Then something suddenly occurred to him. Something the mothers had suggested.

Nah. That would be too weird, not to mention she would never agree to it.

Following a quick shower, Dallas took one last look at the pretty lady, turned off the lights and kicked back in the lounge chair. He still had trouble shutting down his thoughts for several reasons, including the damned deadline on the will. He’d be better served if he accepted his fate—his youngest brother would have controlling interest over the ranch. Short of a miracle, that would come to pass. Unless...

Maybe the harebrained idea could work if he handled it right. If he made it worth Paris’s while. Or she could laugh in his face and leave. Still, it couldn’t hurt to ask, if he found the courage to do it. Hell, he’d ridden some of the rankest bulls in the world. He could propose a marriage pact to a woman.

Probably best to sleep on it for now and decide in the morning—if he actually got any sleep at all.

Three

Shaking off the fog of sleep, Paris came into consciousness slowly in reaction to a ribbon of light landing on her face. She opened her eyes and squinted at first, until she spotted the man with an open chambray shirt sitting in the chair in the corner, putting on his boots. Her eyes went wide when she remembered her current location—a stranger’s bed.

Then it all came back to her, one frame at a time, like a mortifying slide show. Dinner with Dallas Calloway. Two drinks. Getting drunk. Getting into his bed. And that kiss she’d instigated.

Paris resisted the urge to pull the covers over her head and hide away until he left. Or she could choose the mature path and apologize again for her stupid behavior.

After scooting up against the tufted leather headboard, Paris pushed her hair away from her face and cleared her throat to garner his attention. “What time is it?”

He glanced at her, rose to his feet and began buttoning his shirt, but not before she caught a good glimpse of his toned chest, ridged abdomen and the thin happy trail leading to his open fly. “It’s after nine,” he said. “I thought for a minute there you might sleep until lunchtime.”

She thought for a minute there she might swallow her tongue due to his sheer male perfection. “You should have woken me sooner.”

“I tried.”

“Apparently not very hard.”

“I nearly shook your shoulder off, but you didn’t budge.” He cracked a crooked smile. “How’s your head?”

“Fuzzy.” But not so fuzzy that she couldn’t recall what a fool she’d made of herself.

“Need an aspirin?” he asked as he tucked his shirt into the jeans’ waistband.

She needed an escape route when she noticed her skirt and top hanging on the end of the bedpost. “No, I’m fine,” she said as she clutched the covers tighter. “I do need to get dressed and go home.”

He barked out a laugh. “That’s usually my morning line.”

It suddenly occurred to her she might not remember everything about their evening, although she couldn’t imagine forgetting that. “Uh, we didn’t do anything...you know.”

He buckled his belt and approached the side of the bed. “Unfortunately ‘you know’ wasn’t involved. You did strip down to your underwear, but I didn’t look.”

“I’ve definitely heard that before.” She determined an amendment would be best before he assumed she slept around. “From my ex-husband, and he was telling the truth. He rarely looked at me the last few years of our wedded non-bliss.”

“Your husband sounds like an idiot. No offense.”

“No offense taken. You’ve pegged him right, although my actions last evening would probably qualify as idiotic. I’m so sorry I subjected you to that.”

He grabbed an off-white straw cowboy hat hanging from a hook near the door. “Look, you had a little too much to drink. It happens.”

“Not to me,” she muttered. “I can’t recall ever drinking so much that I took off my clothes and climbed into a stranger’s bed.”

“Darlin’, since all you did was climb into my bed, I think you can stop worrying about your actions.”

“But I kissed you. Or at least I think I did.”

His grin expanded. “Oh, yeah, you did. And you won’t hear me complainin’ about that at all.”

At least that was reassuring. “I want to be clear I have never done anything like this before.”

“Kissed someone?”

“Kissed someone I just met.”

“I kind of like knowing I was your first.”

“I like knowing you’re not completely disgusted with me.”

“Nothing about you disgusts me, sweetheart.” He settled the hat on his head and smiled. “Stay in bed as long as you’d like, and I’ll see you in a bit.”

“In bed?” Now why had she said something so leading and ludicrous?

He didn’t seem at all affected by the faux pas. “Is that an invitation?”

She shook her aching head. “No. Just proof that I sometimes speak before I think.”

He winked. “That’s too bad.”

Paris fought the temptation to tell him she’d reconsidered. “Where are you going now?”

“I have to check on some of the livestock.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just say goodbye then. I’ll probably be on my way home before you get back.”

“You can’t leave yet. Jenny went to town this morning and bought you a dress and some underclothes and laundered them. She left them in the bathroom along with some toiletries. She’s also keeping breakfast warm for you.”

Jenny could be nominated for Southern sainthood, in her opinion. But how embarrassing to have one of the Calloway stepmothers learn she’d spent the night in the stepson’s bed. “Although I appreciate the gesture, that’s not really necessary. I’ll just put on the clothes I wore last night and get out of your hair.”

“I want you to stay a while longer so we can talk.”

“About what?”

“Business,” he said as he clasped the knob and opened the door. “So don’t go anywhere.”

Paris fought the urge to salute over his demanding tone, but Dallas had already disappeared before she could deliver the gesture. Assured he had left the premises, she slipped out of bed and wandered into the bathroom. Spa bathroom.

The beige marble tub seemed as large as her whole apartment, and so was the stone shower. She had a good mind to take a soak, but she didn’t want to prolong her stay in Dallas’s domain or delay the breakfast Jenny had prepared.

She retrieved shampoo and shower gel from the basket on the double vanity, gathered a towel from the heated rack on the wall, then took a quick spray until she finally felt somewhat refreshed and energized.

She dressed in the aforementioned underwear, and donned the yellow sundress hanging on a hook on the back of the door. Evidently Jenny had thought of everything, right down to the matching sandals and hair dryer.

After completing the morning ritual, Paris strode back into the bedroom where she thankfully found her case that held her makeup bag. She didn’t have her complete beauty arsenal, but she did have mascara and lip gloss, which would have to do.