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

Not hardly. “Fairly well. And you?”

“You mean after you left me alone topless on the dock? I’ve had better nights.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, although he really wasn’t all that sorry, except maybe about the leaving part.

She then leaned completely across the granite surface to study the newspaper in front him, causing the robe to gape more and giving him full view of her bare breasts, nipples and all. “Wall Street Journal, huh? I expected you to be reading some ranching magazine.”

He expected to elevate the island at any moment. “I’ve been interested in financial news since I acquired my MBA.”

Her green eyes went wide as she sat back down, taking his fun away but giving him some moderate relief. “I had no idea you have a graduate degree. Where did you go to school?”

He couldn’t resist rattling her chain a little. “Got it online from the University of Dumb Cowpokes.”

She laughed softly as she rimmed a fingertip around the coffee cup, drawing Dallas’s undivided attention. “Be serious for a change.”

He had a serious need to see what else she might be wearing underneath that robe. Or what she wasn’t wearing. “I got the undergraduate degree at a small college in Stephenville, Texas, while on a rodeo scholarship. A few years later, when I decided to open the saddle shops, I decided to go for the masters at a bigger university in Fort Worth.”

“Impressive. Why saddle shops?”

Recounting his history could calm his rowdy libido. “When I was growing up, a ranch hand named Gordy taught me how to tool roping saddles. I used his design, started my own line of saddles and began to market it.”

“Gordy doesn’t have a problem with that?”

“Nope. He’s happily retired living off the royalties.”

“You are a man of many talents, I must say. Do you have any sugar?”

Ignoring the urge to tell her he could give her something really sweet, Dallas nodded toward the cabinet behind her. “Right next to the coffee maker.”

She glanced over one shoulder before sending him another smile. “Oh. I didn’t see it,” she said as she slid out of her chair.

She sure had great legs, he realized, when she walked to the counter to sweeten her coffee. The robe was so short that if she lifted her arms, he felt sure he could see her bottom. He should’ve told her the canister was in an upper cabinet. He’d give a month’s worth of pay to find some excuse for her to bend over. He didn’t have to let go of a dime when she dropped the spoon on the floor and reached down to pick it up.

Damn if she didn’t have on a thing. Damn if she didn’t have one fantastic butt. And damn if he didn’t have the mother of all erections.

She turned around and leaned back against the counter. “What are your plans for the day?”

He could offer up a few that involved staying horizontal for the next twenty-four hours, but remembered his aim to take it easy. “I thought we’d go fishing.”

She sipped her coffee then set the cup aside. “Sounds like fun. When do you want to do it?”

Right now on the kitchen island. “We need to get going before it gets much later, while the fish are still biting.”

“Then I should hurry. What should I wear?”

Not a damn thing. “T-shirt and jeans, I guess. Or shorts. It’s going to be close to eighty degrees today.”

While Dallas sat there suffering from lack of sex, Paris rinsed her cup out in the sink and put it in the dishwasher, unaware of his predicament. “I’ll take a quick shower and be back in a few. Where should I meet you once I’m finished?”

In my bed. Your bed. Any bed. “The dock.”

“The dock it is. Maybe I’ll just show up without my top to save time.”

Taking Dallas totally by surprise, Paris untied the sash at her waist, turned around and let the robe fall from her shoulders onto the floor as she walked away.

The image of her slender back and shapely butt remained burned in his brain long after she disappeared.

Was she just trying to torture him, or give him a taste of his own medicine? He didn’t know the answer, but he sure as hell intended to find out.

* * *

Paris wondered what effect, if any, her little attempt at seduction had had on Dallas. If he only knew how difficult it had been to completely let go of her inhibitions, then maybe he might have said something. When she’d left him in the kitchen, she hadn’t had the fortitude to wait around. He certainly hadn’t sought her out in the shower, or showed up at the bedroom door. Only time would tell what he might have in store for her during their little excursion, and the closer she came to the dock, the more the excitement escalated.

She discovered him waiting for her, dressed in khaki cargo shorts and a sleeveless army-green tank, revealing a pair of very masculine legs and muscled biceps that sent her heart on a marathon. A few moments passed before she noticed the sleek silver-and-red boat with the covered hull tied to the side of the pier.

After sliding her sunglasses into place, Paris stepped onto the creaky planks and made her way to her tour guide for the day. “Is this yours?”

“Yep,” he replied.

“How did it get here?”

“George.”

Clearly he’d decided to be cryptic. “Who is George?”

“My neighbor. He looks after the place when I’m not here, and in exchange I let him use the boat. I called and had him deliver it a few minutes ago.”

Evidently George wasn’t going to join them, a very good thing. “I see. I’ve never been on this kind of boat before. It looks like it costs a pretty penny.”

“About eighty grand.”

Paris nearly swallowed the gum she’d been chewing. “Eighty thousand dollars? For that price, it should clean the house, or at least do more than float around the water looking pretty.”

“It can fly,” he said as he held out his hand. “If you’re lucky, I might let you drive it.”

As long as he had sufficient insurance since she’d never been behind the wheel of a boat before. “I might take you up on that, if you’re lucky.”

He cracked a crooked grin. “I have a feeling we could both be lucky today.”

She returned his smile. “Could be.” Or not, depending on how far she wanted the seduction scheme to go.

After Dallas helped Paris down into the space-age looking seat, he untied the boat then claimed the space next to her. One hand on the wheel, he backed away from the dock slowly, said, “Hang on,” then turned the craft around and shot off into open water.

Yes, the thing could fly, and she couldn’t hold a conversation with him due to all the wind noise. She basically clutched the sides of the seats, gritted her teeth and only breathed easier when he navigated the boat into a secluded cove fifteen minutes later.

She pulled away the band securing her high ponytail and finger-combed her hair. “You need to turn around and go back.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because I think I left my stomach a few miles back.”

He barked a laugh. “I take it you’re not much of a thrill seeker.”

Only partially true. She’d married him on a moment’s notice, hadn’t she? And she was definitely seeking some thrills today. “I’ve ridden a few roller coasters on several occasions, but I wasn’t quite prepared for this.”

Paris had prepared to turn on the charms and hopefully turn him on in the process. On that note, she crossed her arms, grabbed the T-shirt’s hem and tugged it over her head, leaving her clad in a red bikini top.

Dallas cleared his throat and shut down the ignition. “Didn’t know you had a swimsuit.”

“Actually, I didn’t either,” she said as she stood. “Jenny thought of everything.” Including massage oil and lubricants, a veritable sex shop in a bag.

“No surprise there,” he replied, his voice sounding somewhat grainy.

Paris realized she didn’t have a lot of room to maneuver, so she pointed to the enclosed hull. “What’s under there?”

“A live well to keep fresh bait and fish and a place to store equipment.” He climbed over the smoked glass minidash and stood on the decking to toss an anchor overboard into the murky green water. “You basically turn on the trolling motor and stand here to fish, but we’re going to stay stationary until you learn how to cast.”

“Or I could sunbathe,” she said as she retraced his steps and stood before him. “I can do that while we fish, right?”

“Not a whole lot of sun with all the trees, but whatever floats your boat, pun intended.”

She shimmied out of the shorts and tossed them back onto the seat, revealing the scant swimsuit bottoms. “I’m ready for a pole now.”

That earned her a wily grin. “I can fix you right up.”

“Fishing pole, Dallas.”

“I’ve got one of those, too.”

“You have an evil mind.”

“You have an unbelievable body.”

She felt a head-to-toe blush coming on, and the same old belief he’d simply been trying to be nice. “I bet you say that to all your first mates.”

He tucked one side of her hair behind her ear. “You’re technically my first mate.”

If only she could say the same for herself. If only she could erase Peter from her past and if only this arrangement with Dallas was real. “Well, I suppose we should start fishing before they stop biting.”

He stared at her a few moments before leaning over, opening a hatch and pulling out a rod. “I’ve got this rigged to catch a bass. I also have some blood bait for catfish if you’d prefer to try for one of those.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Any bait that includes blood in the name is out.”

“Good call, because it’s also known as stink bait.”

Ewww... “Definitely bass.”

“Bass it is. Now move to the edge of the boat.”

After she complied, Paris surveyed the wooded bank and noticed not a house, or soul, in sight. “How many people live on this lake?”

“Just me and George,” he said. “It’s a private lake.”

Of course it was. “So there’s no chance anyone will see me making a fool of myself?”

“Not likely.” Dallas came up behind her and handed her the pole with the little yellow frog-looking thingy dangling from the end. “Hold this in your left hand, and grasp the reel in your right.”

Simple enough. “Like this?”

“Yep. Now push that button with your thumb, pull the rod back to the side and let it go, but not over your head or you’ll hook me.”

She did exactly as he’d instructed, yet nothing happened. “I knew I wasn’t cut out for this.”

“I don’t mind helping you out.” He moved behind her, wrapped his hand around the rod below her hand and replaced her thumb on the release with his. “It’s just one smooth action,” he said as he cast the line in the water with ease.

He didn’t make a move away from her. In fact, Paris would swear he moved closer. “Okay. What now?”

He rested a palm on her belly and pushed her hair to one side with the other. “It’s a top-water jig, so the fish will hit it on top of the water.”

“How long does that take?”

“Until the fish decides to bite.”

When Dallas rimmed the shell of her ear with his tongue, Paris almost dropped the pole. “So it might take a while.”

“Probably not.”

After Dallas dropped his arms from around her, Paris glanced back to find he’d removed his shirt. And oh, what a sight to behold. He had a board-flat belly and a chest that wouldn’t quit. “Hot already?”

“Lady, you have no idea how hot.”

She had a sneaking suspicion she might soon find out when he came back to her and began kissing her neck again. “What are you up to, Dallas Calloway?”

He moved flush against her back. “Pay me no mind and watch your line, in case you get a bite.”

“Aren’t you going to fish?”

“Maybe later. I have something I’d rather do at the moment.”

Paris held her breath when he tugged the string at her neck and unclasped the strap at her back. Now the bikini top lay in a pool at her feet and she found herself exactly where she’d been last night—naked from the waist up.

“Dallas, are you sure no one will see us?” Her voice sounded tinny, thanks to the cowboy’s hands roving over her breasts.

“George left for Kerrville this morning to visit his mother.” He feathered more kisses along her neck. “Besides, the possibility of getting caught makes this a little more exciting.”

Her legs began to shake like a leaf in the breeze. “Any more excitement and I might actually not be able to stand.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t fall. Just relax.”

Relaxing proved to be impossible when his palm came to rest on her midriff and began to drift lower...and lower. “What are you doing now?”

“Scratching your itch.”

When he slipped his hand beneath her bathing suit bottoms, Paris was powerless to stop him. When he began to stroke her softly, she could no longer hold onto the fishing pole. After she dropped it on the deck, she reached back and wrapped her hand around his nape to ground herself. She briefly envisioned how this would look to a passerby—him with his hand down her pants and her in the throes of a sexual frenzy—and that only amplified her need for release.

In a matter of seconds, her pulse accelerated and her respiration picked up speed as the impending climax began to build. The orgasm slammed into her hard with a series of strong spasms that seemed as if they went on forever. She literally shook from the force of it and Dallas, as if he sensed she might not remain upright, turned her into his arms and kissed her.

She came back to reality slowly and broke the kiss to tip her forehead against his shoulder. “Wow.”

“Been a while, has it?”

“Try never. At least not with Peter.”

He set her back and stared at her. “He never got you off?”

She shook her head. “Sadly no, because he really didn’t try, or care. And go ahead and say it. I’m a fool for staying with him as long as I did.”

His expression turned somber. “Then why did you?”

“Because I’d convinced myself I couldn’t do any better.” An admission she’d not made to herself, much less to another soul.

He hugged her for a few moments then pulled away to study her eyes. “Sweetheart, you deserve better. You deserve to have a lover who takes care of you first and puts himself second. That’s the way a man should treat his woman, especially a woman as special as you.”

His woman? Once upon a time she would have made a snide comment about beating his chest, but oddly she liked the sound of it. “Thank you. That means more than you know. But I’m nothing special.”

He looked mock serious. “Yes, you are, and don’t argue with me.”

“I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Macho. Not after what you just did for me.” That brought about an important question. “Speaking of that, what about you? You’ve clearly got an itch that needs scratching, too.”

“True, but I’m fine for now.” He grinned. “Later this evening is another story altogether. We still have a whole lot of exploring to do, if you’re game.”

Paris imagined giving him the pleasure he’d just given her and that made her tingle. “I’m definitely game.” The sound of the reel suddenly drew her attention and prompted her to snatch the rod off the ground. “I think I have something. What do I do now?”

“Bring it in, darlin’.”

“How?”

Without responding, Dallas stepped to her side, took the pole and turned the reel’s handle until he brought up the line, a smallish silver fish dangling from the hook. “Not quite big enough for dinner.”

“It’s so cute, but hurry and take it off.”

“It’s a baby,” he said as he unhooked the bass, crouched down and released it into the water. “Grow up, bud, and maybe I’ll catch ya later.”

That made Paris smile. “I’m glad you let him go.”

“I don’t like fishermen who hang on to undersized fish just because they can. It’s a waste, and I don’t like waste.”

She liked him more and more with each passing moment. She predicted that beneath the tough-guy exterior resided a heart of gold. “It’s nice to know you have respect for wildlife. And women.”

He offered her the pole. “Want to try for something bigger?”

“Are you referring to a fish?” she teased.

“Well, sweetheart, what else do you have in mind?”

“Maybe I’ll show you later this evening.” She took the rod and this time managed to cast it all by herself. “How was that?”

“Looks like you’re a fast learner.”

She handed him back the pole. “But I’m not very patient. You fish, I’ll just kick back on the deck, get some sun and watch you bring in dinner.”

He nodded toward the hatch. “There’s a towel in there, so have fun. But don’t get too comfortable because we might not be here much longer. It’s almost time for lunch.”

Paris realized she hadn’t eaten a thing since the whole grain bar she’d consumed in the bedroom following her novice strip tease. “I admit I’m getting a little hungry, too.”

After casting toward the bank, Dallas shot her a grin. “From this point forward, you can always depend on me to take care of all your appetites. How am I doing so far?”

She returned his smile. “Best fishing trip ever.”

And she couldn’t wait to find out what else he had planned.

Seven

His plans for Paris had unfortunately been put on hold.

The woman had been so relaxed that immediately after she’d eaten lunch—if you wanted to call a tomato and lettuce sandwich lunch—she’d taken a nap. A long nap.

His mind whirled back to earlier in the day, when she’d been as hot as a branding iron and quick to fire. The bastard she’d married had done a number on her, and he really wanted to right the wrongs. Show her all the ways a man could please a woman. Convince her that she was as close to perfect as they come. No doubt he’d be up for the challenge, in every way possible.

Dallas had thought about joining her in bed, but he’d taken a trip to the nearest grocery store—fifteen miles away—then returned a few calls, including one from his attorney. As a result of that conversation, he had to break some serious news that wouldn’t make Paris happy in the least. She might not want anything more to do with him.

And now, with the sun working its way down the horizon, Dallas grabbed a beer, fired up the grill and contemplated how he would tell her the sorry news. He didn’t have a lot of time left, he realized, when Paris made an appearance on the back deck a few minutes later, looking like she’d walked right off the cover of a fashion magazine.

Her straight blond hair fell past her shoulders like homespun silk. She wore just enough makeup to show off her features to full advantage, and a short blue dress with thin straps that showed enough cleavage to make him want to growl. He couldn’t believe his luck in finding such a good-looking fake wife.

She kicked off her flip-flops, curled up on the wicker sofa and pulled her legs beneath her on the blue cushions. “Whatcha doing, cowboy?”

Imagining what it would be like to make fast, hard love to you on that sofa. For the sake of distraction, Dallas turned the burgers before lowering the lid on the grill to regard her again. “I’m making us some dinner. You must’ve been really tired considering how long you slept.”

“I only slept about an hour. I spent the rest of the time rehearsing what I would tell my parents about our marriage and then I called them.”

He would have liked to have been a fly on the wall during that conversation. “How did it go?”

She shrugged. “As expected. My mom bemoaned the fact that once again she didn’t have the opportunity to throw a lavish wedding for her youngest daughter due to a whirlwind courtship. The conversation with my dad wasn’t much better.”

“What did he say?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘This guy better not treat you as poorly as that other SOB.’ And then he went on to say to let him know where he can find Peter so he can beat the...well...some sense into him.”

Although Dallas could understand her father’s attitude toward the ex-husband, he didn’t like the thought of winding up on the wrong side of a retired military man when that man learned his daughter’s latest marriage wasn’t permanent. “How big is your dad?”

“How tall are you?”

“Six-two.”

“He’s five inches shorter and stocky. My mom is five-seven, and so is my sister. I fell on the shorter side at five-five.”

“I would’ve guessed you to be a little bit taller. Must be those long legs.”

“Must be your imagination.”

Yeah, his imagination was running amok when he thought about having those legs wrapped around his waist. Again he looked to his cooking duty to keep him from acting on his fantasies. At least until he could confess...after dinner.

“Speaking of family dynamics,” Paris began, “I assume all your brothers know about the will, but do they know that our marriage isn’t exactly the real thing?”

“They’re all pretty busy right now so I’m not sure what Jen or Maria have told them. I plan to say as little as possible when we get back to the ranch.”

“Do you think they would actually believe you would rush into a marriage on a whim because of a will?”

Probably not. “It doesn’t matter what they believe. It’s an unspoken rule that we don’t get into each other’s business.”

After a span of silence, Paris leaned slightly and studied the grill. “Color me crazy, Dallas, but those look a lot like beef patties.”

“Only two of them,” he said as he flipped them again before turning back to Paris. “I found some kind of veggie burgers at the store. I figured they couldn’t be too bad. Heck, you could serve up a boot as long as you’ve grilled it with mesquite wood chips.”

“Heavens, I hope it doesn’t taste like a boot.”

Honestly, so did Dallas. He didn’t want to let her down, although he suspected he eventually would before night’s end. “The cashier who checked me out told me she loved them.”

“I’ll bet she checked you out thoroughly.”

The jealously in her voice surprised him, and in some ways pleased him. “She had to be at least sixty-five.”

She lifted her chin. “Just because a woman matures doesn’t mean she can’t recognize a sexy cowboy when she sees one.”

“And just because I’m a man doesn’t mean I’m gonna flirt with a grandmother.”

“Men flirt with any woman who’ll flirt back.”

At least she’d said it with a smile. She wouldn’t be smiling when he lowered the legal boom. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I wouldn’t turn down a glass of white wine, if you happen to have some. If not, water will work.”

“I have wine.” Thankfully he’d had the foresight to stock up a few months ago, the last time he’d had a female guest at the cabin. The last time he’d had a woman, period. Tina, or maybe it was Terry. What the hell did it matter? He’d only spent one weekend with her. Plus, she couldn’t hold a candle to Paris in any way, shape or form.

When Paris came to her feet, Dallas caught a good glimpse of a thigh and one stubborn part of him stood, too. He needed to get the hell out of Dodge before she noticed. He’d begun to wonder if any man had ever expired due to a perpetual erection. “Sit. I’ll bring it to you. In the meantime, you enjoy the sunset.”

“If you leave, you’ll miss it since it’s almost gone.”

So was his sanity. “I’ve seen it before.” He’d also seen a feminine leg before, but for some reason, viewing even an inch of her bare skin kicked his libido into overdrive.

After one last look at the burgers, Dallas rushed into the house, braced both palms on the kitchen island and took a few deep breaths. If he didn’t calm down and get with the program, all his plans for the evening would go up in smoke. He couldn’t act on his need for her until she knew all the truth.

When he finally gained his composure, he took the plate full of lettuce, tomatoes and pickles from the fridge, along with the bottle of chardonnay. He thought about popping the top on another beer but figured that wouldn’t help his predicament at all. He needed to keep his guard up and his sex drive down for the time being.