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“You think a dad who hands a baby over to nannies all the time is better than a foster home?”
“Yes! In foster care, she’d be shuffled around. If you had her, you’d care and you’d be responsible,” Savannah answered heatedly, her eyes flashing. “Underneath that selfish exterior, there must be some heart—John saw that in you. I’ve known John all my life, and he was a good man and a very smart man. He didn’t misjudge people.”
“Give it up, Counselor. I’m not taking that baby,” Mike replied, wondering how many times he was going to have to refuse.
Savannah put away the picture and leaned back while he drank some wine. He wished he had ordered something stronger. When their dinners came, he ate golden, cheese-covered lasagna in silence, thankful she had stopped badgering him but still annoyed with her for calling him selfish.
As soon as they finished, she picked up the check and drove him to his hotel.
“You gave it your best shot,” he said before he stepped out of the car. “Sorry, but you can do something else with that inheritance.”
“It’s not that simple. Can you come by my office in the morning while we work out details?”
“Sure.” He sat staring at her, thinking she was a beautiful woman sitting only a couple of feet away. His gaze dropped to her mouth, but he knew better than to try a kiss. “Night, Counselor.”
“I don’t know how you’ll be able to sleep, or even look at yourself in the mirror.”
“I’ll sleep just fine, thank you. Do you always butt into people’s lives like this?” he asked.
“Of course not—this is a big exception,” she said, studying him intently. “I still think John saw something in you that I’m not seeing.”
“I hauled his ass out of the jungle—it was a job. The man was grateful to have his life back, but gratitude can blind people.”
“Not John. He told me about spending weeks with you guys because the escape didn’t go as planned. He said that, in the life-threatening circumstances all of you were in, you really get to know someone. He said he knew he could depend on you completely.”
“Well, too bad he’s not here to know how much I’ve let him down. Good night and start thinking of someone else for that particular inheritance.”
He climbed out of the car and closed the door, leaning down to speak to her through the open window. “Thanks for dinner.”
She glared at him, put the car in gear and drove away. He stared after her and still wondered what it would be like to kiss her. His flight back to D.C. didn’t leave until three o’clock tomorrow afternoon, but when it did, he would be on it, and he wasn’t coming back to Stallion Pass or San Antonio, Texas, again. He had to see the lady lawyer one more time and then it was goodbye forever.
Savannah took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and trying to cool her anger. “Stubborn, selfish man!” she snarled aloud, gritting her teeth and thinking about the adorable little five-month-old girl who needed a guardian. Savannah glanced in her rearview mirror and saw Mike Remington walking into his hotel. Too handsome for words. She hated to acknowledge that, but he exuded sex appeal with his rugged good looks, raven hair and thickly lashed, dark-brown bedroom eyes. He had too much confidence, and she suspected he was accustomed to having women melt whenever he was around. A few times tonight when they’d touched, she’d hated that she’d gone all tingly; she hoped she’d been able to hide it well. She didn’t want him to make her tingly. She wished to remain aloof and frosty with him, so why hadn’t she?
There had to be a way to persuade Mike Remington to take Jessie. John Frates was never off the mark in his assessment of other people—not like this. John had seen something in the man that had made him think Mike was the right man to take responsibility for little Jessie.
Whatever John had seen, Savannah knew she wasn’t finding it. Mike Remington seemed almost hostile, and totally wrapped up in himself and his own life. He wasn’t going to be charitable or generous. And he was going to walk away from a million-dollars-plus inheritance. What kind of man did that? She couldn’t figure him out at all. She knew what John had said about him—that he was tough, fearless and intelligent. Now she could add selfish and stubborn to the list. Yet, how many truly selfish people would pass on a million and a third dollars?
Of the three men in her office this afternoon, Mike Remington seemed the least likely man to be the guardian of a child.
Maybe when Mike slept on it, he would change his mind. She knew better than to really believe that, though.
Savannah drove to the redbrick condo she owned in San Antonio. On weekends she went home to Stallion Pass, but during the week, it was easier to stay in the city.
She parked in her garage and entered through the back door, going in the short entryway to her kitchen. As she got herself a glass of water, she paced around her empty, lonely kitchen. She finally set her empty glass on the tile counter and went through the living room to her bedroom. As she readied herself for bed, her mind was still on Mike Remington. She couldn’t seem to get him or the problem out of her thoughts.
An hour later she sat up in a rumpled bed, staring into the dark and still thinking about Mike and Jessie. She had been conscious of Mike as an attractive man from the start. When she’d touched him, she’d felt the shock of that contact to her toes. She suspected he had that effect on most females.
She’d told him she needed to see him again, but that had been desperation talking. She prayed she could get the state caseworker to cooperate tomorrow. Surely there was some way to melt Mike Remington’s hard heart.
As Savannah sat there in the dark, she was chilled by a deep, unsettling hurt that she hadn’t experienced in years, and she knew what was making her fight so hard for little Jessie.
She recalled her family, her mother and father, her six siblings. All of them, except the three youngest children, were adopted. When she was four, her blood father had walked out. Then when she was five, her mother had abandoned her, as well, sending her to a neighbor’s house and not coming back for her. That old hurt had dimmed, but she could remember the incredible pain and panic, the shock. The number of foster families she had been shuffled through for more than a year and a half—until Amy and Matt had adopted her and taken her into an unbelievably warm and loving home. Savannah shivered and rubbed her arms until old fears and hurts vanished.
In spite of trying to put Jessie and Colonel Remington out of her mind, Savannah slept little and was up before the sun.
Bathed and dressed for work by eight o’clock, she studied herself in the mirror as she smoothed her navy suit. She wore simple pearl earrings and a pearl necklace. Her hair was in a twist on her head. She thought she looked quite businesslike. Her thoughts jumped to Mike and the way he’d looked at her yesterday when she’d taken her hair down and removed her suit jacket. Her pulse jumped at the memory and she frowned, shaking her head. Glancing at the clock, she rushed to the phone to call the caseworker. Savannah knew it was only two hours till her appointment with Mike Remington. This would be her last chance with him, so she needed to make it count.
Two
Mike showered, dressed in a navy sport shirt and jeans, then went downstairs to meet his friends in the hotel lobby. He spotted the two tall men the instant he stepped out of the elevator. After greeting one another, they went to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. It wasn’t until they’d ordered that the talk turned to their respective legacies, Mike’s in particular.
“So how’s it feel to suddenly become a father?” Jonah asked.
Mike shook his head and met Jonah’s gaze squarely. “I’m not going to do it.”
“You’re turning down your bequest?” Boone asked in disbelief.
“I can’t take care of a baby,” Mike said. “Maybe one of you guys?”
“What? Swap inheritances?” Boone’s eyes danced with amusement. “I don’t think the lady lawyer would go for that. She’s all business.”
“She’s as tough as my dad,” Jonah remarked dryly. “No messing with her.”
“Well, count me out, anyway,” Boone said as he leaned back in his seat. “I’ve been there and done that with my kid brothers and sisters. No thank you.”
“Boone, you’re the oldest of nine. You’d be perfect.”
“The hell you say!” Boone snapped. “No more changing diapers for me. I’ve been a daddy eight times. Forget it.”
“How about you?” Mike asked, looking at Jonah.
Jonah shook his head. “I’m going home to Oklahoma, and from there I’ve got to go overseas in four days. Besides, the thought of a ranch is kinda intriguing.”
“What do you know about ranching?” Boone teased. “Next to nothing.”
“Not exactly. My granddaddy had a ranch and I lived with him off and on when I was a kid. Besides, ranching runs in my Comanche blood,” Jonah replied with a grin of his own.
“Oh, sure,” Boone said with a brief laugh, shifting his attention back to Mike. “Looks like you’re stuck, pal. Sorry.”
“I’ll get out of it,” Mike said grimly, more of a promise to himself than his buddies.
“And give up all that money?”
“The money’s not worth it. I’ll make my own money.”
The waiter brought their breakfasts, and Mike looked at his friends. Jonah was the same as the last time Mike had seen him, except it was only April and already the sun had darkened his skin considerably. His straight black hair was cut short and neatly combed, and the T-shirt he wore revealed powerful muscles, proving that Jonah was still in top physical form. As for Boone, his skin was darkened, too, by the sun, and gone was his shaggy brown hair. Although still thick and wavy, it had been trimmed considerably, well above his collar.
“Where are you working now, Jonah?”
“Okmulgee Oil. I’m two weeks in an Algerian oilfield, two weeks home.”
“So you’re finally using that engineering degree,” Boone said.
“I used it in the military. Engineering is a good background for defusing bombs. Better than a marketing degree. So what are you doing, Boone?” Jonah asked.
Boone grinned. “I live about twenty miles out of Kansas City, Missouri, and have my own charter service. I fly everywhere and anywhere.”
“You couldn’t give it up, could you,” Jonah said. “Are you still in, Mike?”
“Nope. I got out two months ago. I’ve got an offer from the CIA and I plan to take it. I’m living in D.C. now. So, is anybody married?”
His two buddies looked at each other, but Mike saw the flash of pain in Jonah’s eyes and guessed that he still hadn’t gotten over his divorce. His marriage had ended while they were all in the service together.
“Remember that night in Fort Lauderdale?” Boone said to break the sudden pall in the mood, and in minutes they were reminiscing about those times. They continued until Mike realized he would have to hurry to make his ten o’clock appointment with Savannah Clay.
“Guys, I gotta run.”
“I’ll get the check. I certainly can afford it with my newfound fortune,” Boone announced. “The famous quarter-horse ranch that I intend to sell.”
“Thanks, Boone.” Mike pulled out a card. “Here’s my address in D.C. and my home and cell-phone numbers. Let’s keep in touch this time. If any of you are around the hotel at lunchtime, let’s get together.” The men agreed and Mike hurried outside to get a valet to bring his rental car.
Minutes later, he was striding toward Savannah Clay’s office. He had dreamed unwanted dreams about her last night. Enticing dreams where she had been soft, willing and sexy in his arms. In real life, she was none of the above, he reminded himself. Instantly, he had to admit that his assessment was unfair. She probably was soft and sexy. Willing, on the other hand, with him never. When he opened the office door, the brunette receptionist flashed him a smile.
“Good morning, Colonel Remington. Miss Clay is expecting you. I’ll tell her you’re here, if you’ll please be seated.”
He sat in a brown, leather chair and moments later, the receptionist said, “Go on in. First door—”
“On the right,” he finished, smiling at her. He reached the open door and was struck again by Savannah’s beauty, restrained by her businesslike demeanor. She was standing in front of her desk, dressed in a tailored navy suit and navy blouse, her hair once again in a twist at the back of her head. But he remembered that cascade of silky, golden hair and the figure beneath the tailored suit jacket. Her skirt ended just above her knees, giving him a good view of her long legs.
She met his eyes and his pulse speeded up a notch. “Colonel Remington,” she said politely, smiling at him. “Come in.” She took his arm and wound it through hers, standing with their shoulders and hips touching, so close to him that he could feel her warmth. He could smell her perfume and was as dazzled by her as if he were fifteen years old again with a first crush.
Suddenly he became aware that they weren’t the only people in the room. “Mike,” she said, “I want you to meet Melanie Bradford, Jessie’s caseworker.”
He turned to shake hands with a brown-haired, fortyish woman, then stopped. The woman was holding a baby.
“And this is Jessie,” Savannah announced, taking the baby and placing her swiftly in his arms.
Startled, he looked down at the baby he held so awkwardly. Big blue eyes gazed up at him as she pursed her rosebud mouth. She was soft, sweet-smelling and dressed in a frilly pink dress with a tiny pink hair bow in her wispy brown curls. She waved a fist at him.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Melanie Bradford said to him. “If you two will excuse me a moment, I need to call my office.” When she left the room, Savannah closed the door behind her and leaned against it.
“This isn’t going to make any difference,” he said to Savannah.
“Will you just look at her? And think—over a million in cash in your account, a trust for you to raise her, which means a very generous income. Also, you get the house. Hire a nanny, for heaven’s sake! You don’t have to be tied down.” Savannah’s voice was low and seductive, trying to convince him.
When she walked over to him, he held out the baby for her to take.
“You hold her,” Savannah insisted. “Look into her eyes and tell her that you’re going to make her a ward of the state and let her be shuffled around to foster homes. Think of her dad and the trust and faith he placed in you.” Now her voice held steel in it, and a good measure of anger, too.
“Stop trying to sell me on this, because it isn’t going to work,” Mike said tightly. “I’m not becoming guardian of a baby.”
“Can you look at her and tell her that?”
He gazed down into wide blue eyes and remembered John Frates. “Dammit, leave me alone, Savannah. You don’t push someone into parenthood,” he said, his anger growing.
“Nonsense. Half the world gets pushed into it one way or another. Have you ever planned to marry, or do you plan to stay a bachelor your entire life?”
“I don’t intend to get married yet,” Mike replied in clipped tones.
“So you never expected to marry or have children.”
“That isn’t what I said,” he snapped. “Now take this baby, Savannah. I’m afraid I’ll drop her.”
Jessie cooed, and as he watched, she smiled at him. He felt a tightening inside and a small sliver of regret. The girl caught his finger in her hand, holding it tightly.
He clenched his jaw and imagined life with a baby. He couldn’t. He was headed for D.C. today and the CIA. They wouldn’t like having a man saddled with a child. He couldn’t settle in a little Texas town and take charge of a baby. Nor could he see taking her to Washington with him.
“She’s beautiful,” he said tersely, and held her out to Savannah again. “Thanks for giving me a lot of sleepless nights.”
“I hope so,” she answered in a voice dripping with disdain as she took Jessie and cuddled her in her arms. She crossed to the door, talking softly to the baby, looking as if she’d done this a million times before. She gave the baby to the caseworker and returned, closing the door and facing him. And once again, she took his breath away. How could the woman be so beautiful and so damned annoying at the same time?
“Will you at least go have coffee with me?” she asked. “I have one more thing I want to show you.”
“One more reason to ruin my life?”
“If you have a guilty conscience, that’s not my fault,” she replied with a smugness that only heightened his irritation.
“Yeah, sure,” he said. “I’ll go, but I don’t see any point in us spending one more minute together.”
“I think another couple of hours is a small thing to ask. Are you this difficult with other women?”
“This isn’t a man-woman thing and you know it.”
She gave him a long, intense look that included a sweep of her eyes from his head to his toes and back, and he had to admit to himself that it was at least partially a man-woman thing.
“No, I guess it’s not,” she said coolly, making him want to cross the room and take her in his arms, kiss her soundly and show her it was a man-woman thing after all. “But I’d really like you to spend the next couple of hours with me.” She awarded him the dazzling smile that made his knees weak, and he wondered how many juries and judges had succumbed to the influence of that smile.
“What the hey,” he said, and grinned. “I have hours yet to kill here.” He strolled over to her and she gazed up at him, the smile still hovering on her lips. If his proximity fazed her, she didn’t show it. “Maybe it could turn into a man-woman thing,” he said softly.
“Not in this lifetime,” she snapped. “But I’m glad you’ve agreed to stay. Let me arrange a few things, and then we’re out of here. Wait just a minute.”
Another order. Did the woman even know the word please? he wondered. He sat and watched her move around her office, and in minutes she nodded to him. “I’m ready. Shall we go?”
He left with her, enjoying the sight of her walking beside him, as well as the scent of her perfume. “Is this another exercise in futility?” he asked.
“Might be, but I have to do what I have to do. I don’t give up easily.”
“You’re very passionate about this. Maybe all that passion is just misguided.”
She laughed, a sexy, flirty laugh, then slanted him a look that made his blood heat. “In your dreams, Colonel! You’re not goading me into sex.”
“Sometimes the impossible happens,” he retorted lightly, but she was definitely keeping him off balance. He didn’t want to be intrigued by her or physically drawn to her, but he was. A woman who kept shifting from glacial to this kind of sexy was bound to give him trouble.
At her car he held the door for her and then went around to sit in the passenger seat. As they drove away from her office and into San Antonio traffic, he watched her.
When they left town and traffic thinned, his curiosity increased. He looked at rolling green hills dotted with sturdy oaks and sprinkled with colorful wildflowers. “So where are we headed—Stallion Pass, perhaps?”
“Good guess. I want you to see the town.”
“It won’t do you any good.”
“You asked me last night, and now I’ll ask you—have you ever been in love?”
“Yes, I have,” he answered quickly.
“I’ll bet lots of times,” she said, flashing a quick smile.
“Sometimes it’s a light, pleasure-only thing and sometimes it’s been more serious, but nothing permanent ever. I’m not a man to settle, and women take a dim view of getting involved with a man with my lifestyle.”
“Why do I doubt that they protest very much? I’ll bet you’re nearly always the one to break things off.”
“Why would you think that?”
“You’re handsome, dynamic, aggressive—”
“Aggressive? I think I’ve been a model of restraint and cooperation with one exception. I’m not taking a baby as an inheritance.”
“You might change your mind.”
“No, I won’t. Handsome?” he repeated, his tone changing as he shifted slightly in the seat to study her more intently. “My, my, Counselor. I’m surprised to get any kind of positive reaction from you,” he said.
“You didn’t, but I imagine ninety-five percent of the women you meet find you quite attractive.”
“Now what exactly makes you come to that conclusion?”
She laughed and glanced at him. “You want me to shower you with compliments? I think your ego is big enough as it is.”
“And I bet you get hit on often, too. Except you probably scare the hell out of a lot of men.”
“Do I scare you?” she asked, slanting him another quick, saucy look.
“Ask me that when you’re not driving, and I’ll show you.”
“Why do you want to be in the CIA?”
“You’re changing the subject, but I’ll remind you of it later,” Mike told her. “I want to go into the CIA because I can still serve my country that way. I can do some interesting things, see interesting places.”
“You can do that in the military, too. Why are you getting out?”
“It’s a little too much on the edge. I’m tired of getting shot at.”
“And that won’t happen in the CIA?”
“I’m wrangling for a desk job.”
“I’m surprised,” she said. “You look the type for action.”
“What kind of lawyer are you? Estate planning?”
“Contract law is my specialty, but I do estates. I’ve done a lot of work for John Frates because we’ve known each other all our lives.”
“You’re a lot younger than John Frates.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks, but you don’t know how old I am.”
“I’d guess twenty-eight,” Mike said, his gaze drifting up and down her.
“Guessing a woman’s age is a risky business. I’m thirty.”
“Ten years younger than John.”
“You remember his age?” She shot Mike a surprised glance.
“I had to know a lot about John before we went to get him. Personal information helps.”
As she smiled at him, Mike suspected she knew a lot about his background. They talked while they drove through small towns and across the Texas countryside until finally they reached the outskirts of a town, where a rock wall held a sign that read Welcome to Stallion Pass.
“So where’s the pass?”
“There isn’t one. It goes back to an early-day legend of an Apache warrior who fell in love with a cavalryman’s daughter. The soldiers killed the warrior, and according to legend, his ghost was a wild, white stallion that forever roamed these parts looking for his true love. According to the legend, whoever caught the stallion would find love. Anyway, the town got the name Stallion Pass because there have been wild, white stallions around these parts forever.”
“Is there one now?”
“The last one I heard about was fairly recent. One of the ranchers here caught a white stallion. He passed it on to one of his friends, who gave it to another friend.”
“And did love come to them?”
She smiled. “All of those guys are married now—you be the judge.”
Mike smiled back at her. “You can be charming when you want to be.”
“So can you, Mike. Truce?”
“Until we talk about babies and settling in small towns.”
She wrinkled her nose but didn’t challenge him. “Now we’re coming into the central part of Stallion Pass. This town was established right after the Civil War because there was an early fort outside of town. Then the railroad came through here and the town boomed. The Frateses were one of the early families. So were the Clays. Most people have stayed. There’s a lot of oil money here, lots of ranches in the area, a refinery, some small industry in Stallion Pass, so we have a prosperous town. There’s a museum, a civic center, a fine aquarium and botanical gardens.”
She pointed out sights to him while he looked at two new hotels a block from an older, renovated one. “That’s the Wentworth Hotel, one of the oldest in Texas, although not as old as the Menger in San Antonio. Across the street is the best steak house in these parts, Murphy’s Steakhouse. It’s excellent. A few blocks over is an equally good restaurant—only, barbecue is the specialty.”