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“I’m asking you to many me.” About the Author Title Page CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN Copyright
“I’m asking you to many me.”
An intense emotion showed in Kaitlin’s face; it was in her eyes, in the sudden trembling of her lips. Flynn held his breath as he waited for her to speak.
But when she did so, her voice was contemptuous. “Marry you?”
In that moment there was the sound of her mother in Kaitlin’s tone. The sound of that well-bred Southern beauty in whose eyes Flynn Henderson had never been and could never be anything more than a simple cowboy.
“Why not?” he asked mockingly.
Rosemary Carter was born in South Africa, but has lived in Canada for many years with her husband and her three children. Although her home is on the prairies, not far from the beautiful Rockies, she still retains her love of the South African bushveld, which is why she likes to set her stories there. Both Rosemary and her husband enjoy concerts, theater, opera and hiking in the mountains. Reading was always her passion, and led to her first attempts at writing stories herself.
www.millsandboon.co.uk
CHAPTER ONE
FIVE years to the day since he had left the Mullins ranch, Flynn Henderson was back. He had left the ranch on a horse, all his worldly possessions contained in two bags. He returned piloting his own plane and with a document worth a small fortune in his hip pocket.
As he brought the plane around in a great sweeping circle, he saw a flash of red and brown on the range beneath him. Round he went again, lower this time, only just clearing the tops of the trees, flying over brushlands and cattle and stretches of mesquite. And there it was again, clearer this time, that same red and brown. Only now he could see that the brown was the colour of a cantering horse, red the colour of its rider’s blouse.
One more circle. And then he was bringing the plane to the ground, unerringly, expertly, knowing just where to land—even though he had never landed a plane there before. Through the cockpit window, still some distance from the airstrip, he saw the horse and its rider.
Would Kaitlin remember the promise he had made the last time he had seen her?
Opening the door of the plane, he leaped lithely to the ground. The horse was moving quickly. Leaning nonchalantly against the side of the plane, Flynn waited.
He could see her clearly now: the girl on the tall brown horse, blond hair streaming behind her. Memories flooded back as he watched her. He had forgotten her litheness in the saddle, the sensuous ease with which she rode, almost as if she had been born on a horse, as if she had ridden before she had walked. Which in a sense she had done, because—so legend had it—her rancher father bad put her in front of him on his saddle from the moment she could sit.
At the edge of the airstrip, she reined in her horse. Seconds later she was running towards him. Flynn, who had thought himself hardened against all emotion, found himself sucking in his breath as she came nearer, reedslender—had she always been quite so thin?—and graceful as a gazelle.
His mouth hardened as he remembered the promise he had made, and the reason for it. Five years ago they had humiliated him, Kaitlin Mullins and her parents, without compassion, without any thought to his feelings. Lovely Kaitlin, with whom—stupidly—he had imagined himself in love. On the day he left, he had vowed to come back here as owner of the ranch.
It was only more recently that he had thought of completing his revenge by laying claim to the daughter as well as the ranch. Once the idea came to him it took hold: Kaitlin Mullins would be his!
There had been bad times, rough times, days when he had been tempted to give up his plans. But always, the decision to own the ranch had given him strength and reinforced his ambitions. He had come a long way in five years, he thought wryly.
‘Hello, Kaitlin,’ he said.
She stopped quite still. She was tall for a woman, but at six and a half feet he towered above her, and he saw the way she tilted her head back to look at him.
Expressions came and went in her lovely almond-shaped eyes: shock, surprise, and something else, an expression that was difficult to read.
‘Can it be...? Flynn...?’ The words emerged slowly, almost painfully. In seconds her cheeks were drained of colour, and she seemed to sway on her feet. There was a part of Flynn that wanted very badly to reach out and steady her—but he didn’t
‘Flynn.’ Her voice shook. ‘It is you!’ She was visibly shaken.
Drily, he said, ‘Yes, Kaitlin, it’s me.’
She came up close to him. ‘My God, I don’t believe it!’
Abruptly, he stepped out of her reach. ‘Why is it so hard to believe?’
Kaitlin must have registered the rebuff, for the colour returned to her cheeks. ‘You’re the last person I expected. And in a plane...’
‘It isn’t unusual for Texans to fly, Kaitlin.’
‘I know that. But you’re a cowboy, Flynn.’
He laughed mockingly. ‘And cowboys don’t fly?’
‘I didn’t mean—’
‘What did you mean?’ he asked deliberately.
Now that she was over her initial shock, Kaitlin was beginning to look angry, too. ‘You know what I meant, Flynn, you always did.’
‘You could be right. Let’s try this. Cowboys are lowly, sweaty beings who know all about horses and cattle, but very little about anything else. When they go anywhere, it’s usually on horseback. Pick-up truck or bus if need be. Planes and the people who fly them exist in a different world. Your world, Kaitlin. How am I doing so far?’
Her hands clenched at her sides as she took a step backwards. ‘It’s so long since we last saw each other. We should be catching up, not exchanging angry words.’
‘How long exactly, Kaitlin? Do you know?’
His gaze searched the small oval-shaped face, lingering on eyes that were as green as the grass after a good spring rain, and on tendrils of fair hair shot with gold; on skin that was fresh and glowing, as if she had already spent hours riding through the brushlands, and on sweetly curved lips that seemed to have been made for a man’s kisses. A potent combination.
And yet, familiar as she still was to him, he could see she had changed. The Kaitlin he remembered had had the soft slightly rounded figure of a girl soon to leave her teens: she was so thin now, and very tanned. Her body had a wiry look, that made her look athletic. Hair which used to curl around her head was drawn back in a long pony-tail, with just those few tendrils escaping onto her forehead. The clothes she wore were basic, with no concession to fashion: plaid shirt, a pair of faded jeans, and on her head a Stetson to protect her from the fierce Texas sun.
On another woman, the complete lack of artifice might have made for dowdiness. But Kaitlin had never needed fashion or cosmetics in order to be attractive. She was still, Flynn thought, the loveliest girl he had ever seen. She was also enormously sexy.
‘Do you know how long it’s been?’ he asked.
Her hesitation was only momentary. ‘Almost five years.’ ‘Five years to the day, actually,’ he said brusquely.
‘Are you accusing me of something?’
‘I remembered the date, Kaitlin.’
‘I wasn’t far off. Besides which, I don’t happen to mark on my calendar the anniversary of our last meeting.’
‘Apparently not,’ he agreed evenly.
‘What brings you here, Flynn?’
‘I came to see you.’
‘Just like that?’
Flynn hitched his fingers beneath the belt of his leghugging jeans. ‘Just like that.’
‘Without any notice.’
‘Did I have to give you notice I was coming?’
The last remnants of her shock had gone, he saw, for suddenly the lovely eyes were sparkling with challenge. ‘After all these years? Yes, Flynn! You could have written or at least phoned.’
‘Didn’t know it was necessary to do that,’ he drawled.
Her head lifted haughtily. ‘If you’d warned me, you’d have been sure of a welcome.’
Flynn gave a short laugh. ‘Have you become the Southern belle your mother always wanted you to be?’
‘What exactly are you trying to say?’
‘Expecting a man to announce his intention to visit? Playing one suitor off against another? Demanding flattery and lavish gifts? If so, you’re looking at the wrong man, Kaitlin Mullins. I don’t have time for social niceties.’
‘I’m no Southern belle,’ she said abruptly. ‘As for niceties, I have no time for them either. Which is why I’ll be quite direct and ask you to leave.’
‘I’m going nowhere. At least not yet.’
If she was taken aback, she did not show it. On the slender neck, the small head was erect. ‘That’s too bad, Flynn, because I have things to do.’
‘Busy, are you?’
‘Very busy.’
‘With what?’
‘Nothing that would interest you,’ she said defiantly.
Kaitlin was fiery and she had courage, Flynn acknowledged. Whatever ill luck adversity might have handed her, it hadn’t dampened her spirit.
‘Try me, Kaitlin.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Her tone was cool. ‘Sorry if I sound unwelcoming, Flynn, but I really do have things to do. Do you have access to the plane any time you want it?’
He nodded, and saw surprise in her eyes.
After a moment, she said, ‘Great. Means we can plan a future visit. I’d like to talk, find out what’s been happening in your life—but we’ll have do it some other time.’
‘You’re sounding like that Southern belle again,’ he mocked.
Kaitlin dropped her pretence at politeness. ‘Stop putting me down!’
‘When you stop putting me off.’
‘I’m just suggesting we postpone the visit for another time.’
‘We could, but we won’t,’ he said firmly. ‘And you haven’t told me what you’re so busy with.’
‘Can’t you take a hint? Look, Flynn Henderson, you’re wasting my time.’
‘Why is it so valuable?’
Kaitlin seemed to be trying very hard to keep her temper in check. ‘Phone me, Flynn, and we’ll arrange something that’s mutually convenient.’
She was about to jump on to the horse’s back, when Flynn caught the reins in his hands.
‘Mutually convenient, indeed. What kind of language is that between two people who used to be friends? More than friends, actually.’
To his satisfaction, two bright spots of red appeared in her cheeks. After a moment he went on, ‘Busy with what, Kaitlin? Why won’t you tell me?’
She was standing so close to him that Flynn was rocked by a host of sensations he thought he’d forgotten. He resisted the urge to pull her against him.
‘Let go of the reins!’ Kaitlin hissed.
Flynn was unyielding. ‘Busy with what?’
Kaitlin was silent a few seconds. In the small face an expression came and went. At last, as if she understood that he would persist until she answered him, she reluctantly said, ‘There’s a calf...’
Her tone was so low that Flynn had to bend his head in order to hear her. The fragrance of her hair filled his nostrils.
‘A calf?’
‘Lost. Maybe hurt. I have to go after it. Now do you understand why I can’t waste time chatting?’
Flynn decided not to ask why she had to undertake a chore normally done by one of the cowboys.
‘I’ll go with you,’ he said.
Her hair brushed his chin as she jerked against him. ‘Impossible. ’
‘Why?’
‘It’s quite a distance from here, and I’m going on horseback.’
‘We’ll both go on horseback, Kaitlin. And don’t tell me that’s impossible because we both know it’s not.’
‘We’re a long way from the stables, Flynn.’
His laughter was low and mocking. ‘You don’t say.’
Once more he moved swiftly. Giving Kaitlin no time to react, he picked her up. The feel of her in his arms surprised him. Thin as she was, he had not expected her to be quite so fragile. Her fragility moved him, touching the edges of the bitterness that had turned him into a driven man: a bitterness that had kept him on course when he might have given up his plans.
And then he was putting her in the saddle. Seconds later he was seated behind her, his arms around her, his hands next to hers on the reins.
Kaitlin swung around in the saddle, her face so close to him that Flynn could see the lights that warmed her eyes, and the small vertical lines on those very kissable lips.
He moved, his thighs closing around hers on the saddle. Kaitlin was still looking at him as his arms tightened around her. For a moment she leaned towards him, and he held his breath, wondering if she meant to kiss him.
At the last moment she pulled back. Flynn could have kissed her, but he didn’t. A low laugh erupted from his throat. Against him, Kaitlin tensed.
‘Get off my horse, Flynn.’ An angry order.
Once more he laughed. ‘Of course—in the stables. I’ll saddle another horse, and then we’ll go and rescue your calf.’
‘Flynn—’
‘And don’t try telling me I don’t know my way to the stables, because I’ll lay you a bet I can still get around this ranch blindfold.’
With that he dug his heels lightly into the horse’s flanks. His arms were still around Kaitlin, his hands next to hers on the reins. Five years had passed since he had left the ranch, but he didn’t waver once, nor did he have to ask Kaitlin for directions. He knew the way as well as if he had ridden the range yesterday.
As they left the airstrip, Flynn found himself swept with emotions he had not felt in a long time. Emotions he had not felt with any of the other women he had known over the years. Emotions he had not expected to feel with Kaitlin, not after the way she had hurt him. Her back was against his chest, her slender legs still wedged against his thighs. Her hair brushed his nose, filling his nostrils with its sweetness: he wondered whether she felt him move his lips against it. He wondered too what she was feeling, and whether she was remembering those long-ago rides through the brushlands.
Flynn knew exactly what he wanted of this woman, what he had always wanted of her. Only this time, whatever happened between Kaitlin Mullins and himself, would happen on his terms. Love would not be a factor in their relationship, for with love came vulnerability, and he would not let Kaitlin hurt him again.
When they reached the stables, Flynn loosened his arms. Lightly he leaped off the horse and reached for Kaitlin.
‘I don’t need help,’ she told him brusquely.
‘I know that,’ he said, and lifted her down anyway.
For a long moment his hands remained on her waist, and his eyes held hers. Quietly he said, ‘Is there something you want to tell me?’
‘Should there be?’ Her voice held a slight tremor.
‘For one thing, maybe you’d like to explain why you’re so thin?’
She slipped out of his hands, and he made no attempt to stop her. ‘I’ve always been thin, Flynn.’
‘Not like this.’ And as she gave an impatient shrug, ‘You forget, Kaitlin, for the last fifteen minutes I’ve had my arms around you. You’re nothing but skin and bones.’
‘How flattering.’
‘Just saying it as it is. I’ve never forgotten the feel of you, Kaitlin.’
‘Flynn—’
‘The scent of your hair, and the pace of your heart.’
‘Don’t,’ she said.
‘So—why are you so thin?’
‘Metabolism?’ she suggested.
‘Metabolism,’ he repeated cynically. ‘Is that what you call it? And another thing, what happened to your hands?’
‘My hands?’ She thrust them behind her back.
‘Why are you hiding them, Kaitlin? I’ve had time to study them—remember?’
‘Right,’ she said slowly, and dropped her hands to her sides.
Flynn. reached for them. The nails were very short and without any polish, and the palms were roughened by what could only be many months of hard manual labour.
‘Not the hands of a Southern belle, Kaitlin.’
‘No,’ she agreed shortly.
‘Your mother used to insist you wore gloves when you rode.’
‘Yes—though I used to take them off the moment she was out of sight.’
‘I remember.’ This time his laughter was warm and amused. ‘Hands were important to your mother.’
‘Right...’
‘ “Katie, darling,” I overheard her saying once, “a lady must be well-groomed, and that includes her hands. Lotion, Katie, never forget your hand-lotion.’ ”
‘Or words to that effect.’
‘I don’t claim that my memories are word-perfect.’
Kaitlin blinked. There was a look of such pain in her eyes that Flynn felt his heart give an unaccustomed wrench.
‘My hands are no longer important to my mother. She... She died fifteen months ago.’
‘So I heard.’
Her head jerked. ‘You did?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where? From whom?’
‘Someone I know.’
‘And obviously you don’t want to tell me. Well, never mind. Do you also know—’ she swallowed hard ‘—that Dad died too?’
Flynn nodded.
‘Not very long after Mom. Of a broken heart, I think, although it seemed like an accident at the time. I don’t think he could exist without her.’
A broken heart? Maybe that was part of it, though according to sources Flynn had no reason to doubt, the bottle had contributed more than a little to the death of Kaitlin’s father.
Eyes narrowing, Flynn looked down at Kaitlin: his lovely girl, his beautiful Kaitlin, always sparkling, forever laughing at some joke or another. This new vulnerability of hers touched that deep inner core which had been frozen inside him since the day he had left the ranch.
His arms lifted. He was about to pull her towards him when he remembered that whatever changes there might have been, they were probably superficial. Kaitlin Mullins was still her parents’ daughter. That had not changed. His arms dropped to his sides.
‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘You’re so intent, Flynn. The way you’re staring at me. As if you’re trying to read me.’
‘Read you?’
‘What you see is what there is, Flynn.’
He doubted that. He gave a short laugh, hard and unamused, and Kaitlin took a quick step backwards.
‘I really do have to see about that calf.’ She sounded hurt.
‘I said I’d go with you.’
‘I don’t need you, I can manage perfectly well on my own.’
‘I’m going with you all the same.’
‘You’re a stubborn man, Flynn. But if you insist, I guess we should get a horse saddled.’
‘In a moment.’ He reached for her left hand. ‘You’re not married, Kaitlin.’ He had known that, of course.
‘No.’
‘Why not? There- must have been dozens of interested men.’
‘A few.’
‘Well then?’
‘I refuse to marry anyone I don’t love.’
‘Are you telling me you’ve never been in love?’
Her eyes shifted. After a moment, she said, ‘You ask too many questions.’
‘Do I?’ he drawled.
‘Yes.’ She paused, and looked back at him. ‘How about you, Flynn ? Did you never marry?’
‘I did.’
An expression crossed Kaitlin’s face, but it was gone before Flynn could make anything of it. ‘You didn’t think of bringing your wife with you today?’ she asked politely.
So she didn’t care that there had been another woman in his life. Foolish of him to have thought otherwise.
‘Didn’t have a reason to,’ he said lightly. And when she looked at him questioningly, ‘We’re no longer together. The marriage didn’t last.’
Another one of those expressions appeared in Kaitlin’s eyes, though slightly different this time. ‘Yes, well...’ was all she said.
She jerked when he touched her chin, enfolding it in his fingers, brushing slowly once up and down her throat with his thumb.
‘No questions, Kaitlin?’
She shrugged. ‘Should there be?’
‘Not at all interested in what I just said?’
‘It’s your life, Flynn, not mine.’
‘True. But we were friends once. More than friends.’
‘That’s the second time you’ve reminded me.‘ For some reason her eyes left his once more. ‘I don’t know why you keep dredging up the past. Whatever there was—and it wasn’t really that much—it all happened so long ago.’
Dam the woman. She could have shown at least a little interest in his marriage, He said as much.
Turning back to him, Kaitlin said brightly, ‘I’m sure the story of your shattered relationship is fascinating. But right now I’m a lot more concerned about a little lost calf.’
Like her mother, Kaitlin seemed to know just how to put a man in his place.
Flynn’s hand dropped. ‘Which horse shall I take?’ His voice was hard as he moved away from her.
Kaitlin suggested a tall stallion, and Flynn saddled it. It was some time since he had worked as a cowboy, but his passion for horses had never lessened. The horse, temperamental by nature, seemed to sense it was in the hands of a person who was more than its match, and stood still as Flynn got it ready for riding.
They were walking the horses side by side through the brushlands when Kaitlin turned in the saddle. ‘When did you learn to fly, Flynn?’
‘A while ago.’
‘Did your new employer teach you?’
He grinned at her. ‘I don’t have an employer, Kaitlin.’ ‘You don’t?’
Her eyes were so wide that Flynn laughed. ‘You seem to find that more amazing than the fact that my marriage didn’t last.’
‘Not really,’ Kaitlin said after a long moment. ‘You have the look of a man who stopped taking orders from other people.’
Flynn was careful not to show his surprise at her perceptiveness. ‘I found out some time ago that I needed to work for myself.’
‘What do you do, Flynn?’
‘This and that.’
‘Not much of an answer, and well you know it.’
Flynn just grinned at Kaitlin, obviously infuriating her so much that she dug her heels into the sides of her horse, spurring it into a gallop. It didn’t take Flynn long to go after her.
It was almost an hour before he saw a streak of brown in some wild grass not far from a clump of lethal-looking mesquite.
‘There’s your calf.’ He gestured.
‘I saw it, too.’ .
‘It’s quite safe right now, busy grazing and with its mind on its food. Still, it’s lucky to be on its feet. Fifty yards more to the left, all those spiky branches—and your calf could have had its neck slashed.’
‘As if I don’t know that,’ Kaitlin responded grimly. ‘Why do you think I was so desperate to find it?’
Kaitlin was uncoiling her lariat when Flynn leaned towards her and tugged it from her hands.
‘What do you think you’re doing now?’ Green eyes were outraged.
Flynn laughed. ‘Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to rope a calf.’
‘I didn’t ask you to. Give me back the rope, Flynn.’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘Flynn!’ It was Kaitlin’s turn to lean towards him, but he held the lariat just out of her reach.
‘Think I don’t know how to rope an animal, Flynn?’
‘I’ll take your word for it, but I didn’t come along just for the ride.’
‘I keep telling you, I don’t need your help!’ She threw the words at him.
For a long moment Flynn studied the lithe figure, determination and defiance in every feminine line and angle. God, but she was an aggravating female, she’d be nothing but trouble to any man foolish enough to try and make a life with her. But, dam it, she was sexy!
She had registered the searching gaze. ‘What?’
‘Never figured you for a cowgirl, Kaitlin.’
‘Maybe you should have.’
‘Back to cowboys—why isn’t one of them out here roping?’
‘I...’ Kaitlin hesitated. ‘I wanted to do it myself.’