“If You’re Not Going To Let Me Seduce You, Then The Least You Can Do Is Dance With Me,” Travis Said.

Eyes wide, Lacey let him pull her into his arms. “But there isn’t any music!”

“Sure there is. Listen real close,” he whispered in her ear.

Her cheek resting against his, she listened. “I don’t hear anything.”

“You’re not concentrating hard enough,” he scolded. “Close your eyes.”

Dutifully Lacey did as he instructed.

“Feel that?” He flattened his hand against her back and pressed her close to his chest. “That’s my heart beating for you.”

The music flowed through Lacey like wine, warming her blood. She stared up at him. “Yes,” she murmured. “I can hear it.” She watched his eyes darken. Then his face was lowering to hers.

“I am going to seduce you,” he warned.

“Too late,” she whispered as his lips touched hers. “You already have.”

Dear Reader,

Please join us in celebrating Silhouette’s 20th anniversary in 2000! We promise to deliver—all year—passionate, powerful, provocative love stories from your favorite Desire authors!

This January, look for bestselling author Leanne Banks’s first MAN OF THE MONTH with Her Forever Man. Watch sparks fly when irresistibly rugged ranch owner Brock Logan comes face-to-face with his new partner, the fiery Felicity Chambeau, in the first book of Leanne’s brand-new miniseries LONE STAR FAMILIES: THE LOGANS.

Desire is pleased to continue the Silhouette cross-line continuity ROYALLY WED with The Pregnant Princess by favorite author Anne Marie Winston. After a night of torrid passion with a stranger, a beautiful princess ends up pregnant…and seeks out the father of her child.

Elizabeth Bevarly returns to Desire with her immensely popular miniseries FROM HERE TO MATERNITY with Dr. Mommy, about a couple reunited by a baby left on a doorstep. Hard Lovin’ Man, another of Peggy Moreland’s TEXAS BRIDES, captures the intensity of falling in love when a cowgirl gives her heart to a sweet-talkin’, hard-lovin’ hunk. Cathleen Galitz delivers a compelling marriage-of-convenience tale in The Cowboy Takes a Bride, in the series THE BRIDAL BID. And Sheri WhiteFeather offers another provocative Native American hero in Skyler Hawk: Lone Brave.

Help us celebrate 20 years of great romantic fiction from Silhouette by indulging yourself with all six delectably sensual Desire titles each and every month during this special year!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Hard Lovin’ Man
Peggy Moreland

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Life is full of disappointments, some stemming from

circumstances beyond our control. To all who have

suffered but managed to find the rainbow after the

storm, joy in the simple things, love when least

expected…this book is for you.

PEGGY MORELAND

published her first romance with Silhouette in 1989. She’s a natural storyteller with a sense of humor that will tickle your fancy, and Peggy’s goal is to write a story that readers will remember long after the last page is turned. Winner of the 1992 National Readers’ Choice Award, and a 1994 RITA finalist, Peggy frequently appears on bestseller lists around the country. A native Texan, she and her family live in Round Rock, Texas.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

One

Double-Cross Heart Ranch.

Frowning, Lacey looped an arm around the steering wheel and leaned forward to peer through the windshield at the wrought-iron sign hanging above the ranch’s entrance. Fitting, she decided bitterly. In her estimation, the owner of the ranch—Lucas McCloud—was a double-crossing, heart-breaking, low-crawling snake, so it seemed only appropriate that his ranch’s name would reflect those same traits.

And today she planned to tell him face-to-face what a lowlife she thought he was. Firming her lips in determination, she made the turn into the ranch’s entrance and bumped her way across the cattle guard.

Cattle grazed along both sides of the long drive, unaffected by the dust she stirred, but a small herd of horses lifted their heads as she passed by, curious. Another time, another place, she might have stopped just to enjoy the beauty of the animals and the rugged Texas landscape. But not today. Today she was on a mission.

She’d waited two years for this moment. The rodeo in Fort Worth the night before had put her in close enough proximity to Austin and the Double-Cross Heart Ranch to justify the trip. Not that she needed justification. To her way of thinking, a confrontation with Lucas McCloud was long overdue.

As she topped a small rise, a sprawling ranch house popped into view—and, without warning, butterflies the size of bats took wing in her stomach. She pressed a hand to her middle, and tried to swallow back the unexpected attack of nerves. She could do this, she reminded herself firmly. And once she’d had her say, she was hightailing it back to Missouri, and she’d never have to so much as think the man’s name again.

Parking her truck in front of the house, she hopped down and marched to the porch. She rapped her knuckles hard against the thick oak door then stepped back and folded her arms across her chest, waiting.

She had just about decided to knock again when the door opened and a harried young woman appeared. But before Lacey could state her business, someone inside the house shouted, “Mandy! Where’s the Bible?”

The woman called over her shoulder, “In the bookcase in the office,” then rolled her eyes as she turned back to Lacey. She offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Things are a little crazy around here at the moment. We’re getting ready for a wedding.”

A wedding? As usual Lacey’s timing sucked wind. Didn’t matter, though, she told herself. Wedding, or not, she was staying until she’d seen Lucas McCloud and said her piece.

The woman extended a hand in greeting, her smile growing warmer. “I’m Mandy Barrister. What can I do for you?”

Reluctantly, Lacey unfolded her arms and shook the offered hand. “Lacey Cline. I’m here to see Lucas McCloud.”

“Lucas?” the woman repeated, her smile slowly fading.

“Yeah,” Lacey replied, not bothering to hide the bitterness in her tone. “Tell him his daughter is here to see him.”

The woman grabbed for the doorframe, her eyes going wide. “You’re Lucas’s daughter?”

Ignoring the question, Lacey leaned to peer around her. “Is he here? I’m in kind of a hurry.”

Drawing in a long breath, the woman uncurled her fingers from the doorframe and straightened, lifting her hand helplessly. “No. He’s—” She dropped the hand limply to her side. “Lucas is dead.”

A hoof with fifteen hundred pounds of horsepower behind it could have hit the wall of Lacey’s chest and had a lesser effect on her ability to breathe. “Dead?” she managed to choke out.

“Yes. For about thirteen years now.”

Lucas was dead? Lacey raked her fingers through her hair, trying to get a grip on her spinning emotions. She’d waited two years for the opportunity to tell the man who had sired her what a low-crawling snake she thought he was for refusing to acknowledge her as his daughter. She supposed she should be glad he was dead…but for some reason, all she felt was a huge gaping hole in her chest. She backed up a step. “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, then, unable to think of anything else to say, turned and ran down the steps.

She’d almost made it to her truck when she heard footsteps running behind her.

“Lacey! Wait!”

She stopped, drawing in a deep breath before turning. The distress she saw on the woman’s face shamed her. She didn’t know what kind of memories her request to see Lucas had stirred, but obviously they weren’t pleasant ones. “Listen…Mandy, isn’t it?” At the woman’s nod, she hurried on. “Look, Mandy, I’m sorry I bothered you. I didn’t know.”

“You said you were Lucas’s daughter.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, and dropped her gaze to hide the unwanted tears that swelled again.

“So am I.”

Lacey’s head shot up. “What did you say?”

Mandy drew in a shuddery breath. “I’m Lucas’s daughter. I have two younger sisters, Merideth and Sam.”

Lucas had daughters? Then that meant Lacey had half sisters. Numbed by the realization, she stared, speechless.

Mandy seemed at a loss for words, too, because she clasped her hands together and squeezed until her knuckles looked like a string of pearls wrapped around her fists, before she lifted her hands in a helpless shrug. “I—I don’t know what to say to you.”

Lacey clamped her lips together in a frown. “You don’t have to say anything. Like I said, I’m sorry.” She turned away again, but Mandy grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“Please don’t go,” she begged. She glanced toward the house, catching her lower lip between her teeth. “We’ve got this wedding,” she began hesitantly, then turned to Lacey again. “But it shouldn’t last too long, and I really would like to talk to you. We all would.”

Lacey eased from the woman’s grasp, regretting that she’d ever stepped foot on the Double-Cross. “Sorry, but I came to talk to Lucas. Since he’s dead, there’s no reason for me to hang around.”

“But Sam and Merideth will want to meet you.”

Lacey snorted a laugh. “I doubt that.”

Mandy scowled, obviously irritated by Lacey’s sarcasm. “Well, I don’t, and I think I would know their preferences better than you.”

Lacey moved her shoulder in a shrug. “Can’t argue that, since I didn’t even know they existed, or you, either, for that matter, until a couple of minutes ago.”

Mandy lifted her chin defensively. “Well, we didn’t know you existed, either, until you showed up on our doorstep.”

Aware that the conversation was going nowhere fast, Lacey tried to think of a way to end it. “Look,” she said, fighting for patience. “Just pretend I was never here, and that this conversation never took place. Okay?”

“No way.” Pursing her lips, Mandy grabbed Lacey’s hand and dragged her toward the house. “You can’t expect to drop a bomb like that and just drive away, leaving us with a thousand unanswered questions.”

Lacey dug in her boot heels, trying to wrench free, but was surprised to discover that, though the woman appeared delicate, her strength equaled Lacey’s own. “Hey! I said I was sorry. Okay? It was a mistake. I should never have come here.”

“Too late,” Mandy muttered.

“But you’re getting ready for a wedding,” Lacey reminded her, grasping at straws, anything to escape.

“Your cousin Alayna’s wedding. You’ll want to meet her, too.”

Lacey jerked to a stop and succeeded in dragging Mandy to a stop, as well. Half sisters and cousins? She’d never thought about Lucas having a family. He’d been just a name to her, not a real person…and she wanted no part of his family. “My horse is in the trailer,” she said on sudden inspiration. “I can’t leave him there in this heat.”

Mandy gave Lacey’s hand another jerk, hauling her up the steps behind her. “Don’t worry. I’ll have my son Jaime take care of him for you.”

She opened the door and all but shoved Lacey inside ahead of her. “Merideth! Sam!” she called. “Come here. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

Lacey stood at the back of the cavernous living room, trying her best to melt into the wall. The room was crowded with members of the McCloud family—all of them strangers to her. Half sisters. Brothers-in-law. Cousins. Nieces and nephews. Before the wedding had started, Mandy had insisted on introducing her to every last one.

She drew in a shaky breath. She still wasn’t sure how Mandy had managed to rope her into staying for the ceremony. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to be on the road, headed for Missouri, and as far away from the Double-Cross Heart Ranch as she could get.

But she wasn’t. And it didn’t look as if she was going to be able to leave any time soon.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she angled her head slightly to find Merideth staring at her, a slight frown curving her lips. Lacey frowned right back. With a haughty lift of her chin, Merideth turned away, centering her attention on the preacher and the bride and groom who stood in front of the massive fireplace.

To heck with you, Lacey fumed silently, forcing her gaze to the ceremony. She wasn’t here to win any friends. Heck, she didn’t even know why she was here!

Well, she did know, she reflected morosely as the preacher’s voice droned on and on as he read a long passage from the Bible. It was all Mandy’s doing. There had only been enough time for quick introductions before the wedding had started, and Mandy had insisted that Lacey stay until after the ceremony when they would have more time to talk. Lacey had finally agreed, just to get the spotlight off her for a while. Being introduced as Lucas’s illegitimate daughter and having all those people staring at her had been a little disconcerting.

She had to give it to them, though, she thought with a sigh. To their credit, not a one of them had questioned her claim as Lucas’s daughter, and all had treated her civilly.

Other than Merideth, of course.

Lacey glanced Merideth’s way again, frowning at the back of her blond head. It wasn’t that Merideth had been rude exactly. She just kept watching Lacey as if she expected to catch her slipping off with the family silver or something.

Lacey pursed her mouth in irritation and turned her gaze back to the front of the room. Discovering one of her half sisters was a movie star had come as a shock, but hadn’t changed Lacey’s feelings toward Meredith. She didn’t care for Meredith any more than Meredith cared for her, movie star or not. And as soon as this hitching was over, she told herself, she was getting out of here, promise or not. She didn’t owe the McClouds any explanations, and as far as she was concerned, they didn’t owe her any, either.

She heard the front door open behind her and glanced over her shoulder to see who was arriving late. She choked back a laugh when she realized the futility in that gesture. She didn’t know the bride and groom, much less any of their wedding guests. With a shake of her head, she turned her attention back to the ceremony, silently praying that the long-winded preacher would speed things up.

She felt a shoulder bump hers and glanced over to find a man had slipped into the room and was standing beside her. When she got a good look at his face, she did a quick double take, snapping her gaze to the front of the room and the groom, then back to the man at her side, sure that she was hallucinating. The two men could be identical twins—only the groom was wearing a suit, and the man beside her was wearing camouflage pants and a black T-shirt. She smothered a laugh. And she’d been concerned about attending the ceremony dressed in boots and jeans.

The eyes that met hers were a deep chocolate brown, and she couldn’t help but stare. His face obviously hadn’t seen a razor in a couple of days, because the stubbled beginnings of a mustache and beard the same shade of brown as the hair that brushed the neck of his black T-shirt covered his jaw and chin. And his eyes. There was a wildness, a desperation in them that was downright scary.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and shifted away, putting space between them.

Tearing her gaze from his, Lacey quickly turned her attention back to the ceremony just as the minister said, “If anyone present knows of a reason why this man and this woman should not be joined in holy matrimony, may he speak now or forever hold his peace.”

“I do!” the man beside her growled.

Lacey whipped her head around to stare at him, as did everyone else in the room. As Lacey had, to a person, they did a double take when they got their first look at his face.

“Travis!” the groom exclaimed, a smile beginning to spread over his face. “You came!”

The stranger—Travis, the groom had called him—didn’t return the smile. “And just in the nick of time,” Lacey heard him mutter under his breath as he pushed himself away from the wall. He took a step forward, then stopped, squaring shoulders as broad as those of the man he confronted. “Mike, our foreman, sent me a wire relaying your message. I can’t let you go through with this, Jack.”

The smile that had bloomed on the groom’s face quickly dipped into a scowl. He turned back to the preacher. “Ignore him. Go on with the ceremony.”

Travis took another step forward. “Don’t listen to him, preacher. He’s crazy.”

Lacey watched the groom’s shoulders rise then fall in an obvious search for patience before he turned slowly back around. “There’s nothing wrong with me, Travis. I’m okay now.”

Travis closed the distance between them. “No, you’re not.” He nodded his head toward Alayna, who was staring at him, her eyes wide with shock, her face pale beneath the sheer veil that shadowed her face. “Not if you’re about to get married again. You made one mistake. I can’t stand by and watch you make another.”

“Then leave,” the groom snapped. He turned to face the preacher again. “Finish the job,” he growled.

The preacher gulped, glancing nervously from one man to the other.

Travis slapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder and whipped him around to face him. “If I leave,” he said, the warning undergirded with a thick layer of steel, “I’m taking you with me.”

Jack’s face turned bloodred with rage. He knocked Travis’s hand from his shoulder. “Like hell you are.”

If asked later, Lacey couldn’t have said who threw the first punch, but, in the blink of an eye, fists were flying. The bride screamed and one of the little kids in the room started crying. Another kid yelled, “Cool, dude! Hit him again, Dad!”

There was a grunt of pain, but Lacey couldn’t be sure if it was Travis or Jack who had made the guttural sound.

Mandy’s husband, Jesse, and Sam’s husband, Nash, quickly jumped into the fray, trying to pull Jack and Travis apart. But it was Merideth’s husband John Lee—a tall man with arms as thick as his wife’s waist—who managed to wedge himself between the two men and separate them. For his trouble, he caught the left meant for Jack square on the chin.

Testing his jaw to make sure it wasn’t broken, John Lee kept a hand braced on Jack’s chest, holding him back, while Jesse and Nash struggled to pen Travis’s arms behind his back.

John Lee looked from one furious face to the other, then suggested mildly, “Now why don’t you boys tell the rest of us what this little scuffle’s all about.”

“He’s crazy,” the two men said in unison, gesturing with their chins at the other.

John Lee nodded his head. “Well, I’d have to agree with you on that score, because you’re both acting like a couple of nutcases.” He glanced over at Travis. “Nice left,” he added, rubbing his still-throbbing chin.

“Thanks,” Travis grumbled.

Lacey would’ve laughed at the absurdity of the conversation, but she was afraid she might miss something.

John Lee let his hand drop from Jack’s chest and began to pace between the two men, his hands clasped behind his back, looking much like a trial lawyer preparing to question a crucial witness. He stopped after a moment to peer at Travis. “So why’d you want to stop the wedding?”

Travis scowled at Jack. “Because he’s not ready to get married.”

“That’s a damn lie.”

John Lee made a tsking sound with his tongue. “Now, Jack,” he scolded gently. “Remember there are ladies and children present, not to mention a man of the cloth.”

Jack stuffed his hands in his pockets and ducked his head, properly chastised. “Sorry,” he mumbled, then shifted his gaze to Travis’s, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “I know what I’m doing.”

Travis shook his head. “You may think you do, but you’re still running on emotion. Your wife’s been dead less than a year.”

“Ex-wife,” Jack corrected.

John Lee listened to the exchange, then focused on Jack. “Do you love Alayna?”

“With all my heart.”

“And you want to marry her?”

Jack turned to his bride and took her hand, squeezing it in his own as he gazed deeply into her eyes. “Yes.”

“And do you want to marry Jack?” he asked the bride.

Her lips trembling uncontrollably, she could only nod her head.

John Lee lifted a shoulder. “That’s good enough for me.” He turned to Travis. “I’d say you’re fighting a losing battle, buddy.” He eyed him a moment longer. “Think you can behave yourself, now?”

“Yeah,” Travis muttered, though Lacey could see that there was still some fight left in him.

John Lee gave a nod to Jesse and Nash. “Turn him loose.”

Scowling, Travis jerked free of the two men, then dragged the back of his wrist across his mouth, swiping a trickle of blood from a lip that was quickly swelling. John Lee pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to him.

“Thanks,” Travis mumbled.

John Lee folded his arms across his chest and reared back to study him. “Judging by the resemblance, I’d say you’d have to be Jack’s twin.”

Travis shot his brother a glare, then turned to John Lee, sighing heavily as he stretched a hand out in greeting. “Yeah. Travis Cordell.”

John Lee smiled as he shook the offered hand. “Pleased to meet you, Travis. I’m John Lee Carter.” He leaned close. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

Self-consciously, Travis lifted a shoulder. “No, I guess not.”

“Do y’all always scrap like this?”

The brothers exchanged an indefinable look, then Travis mumbled, “Yeah. Mostly.”

John Lee chuckled and slapped a companionable arm around Travis’s shoulder. “That’s what I figured.” He turned Travis toward the door. “How about you and me go and grab us a beer and let these folks get on with their business?”

Though the wedding had proved to be more entertaining than Lacey had expected, she wasn’t sure how much more of this family-ness she could take. With the reception now in full swing and Mandy busy playing hostess, Lacey’s patience was quickly wearing thin as she waited for the promised meeting with her half sisters. She couldn’t count the number of toasts that had been made to the newlyweds, or how many times a camera flash had gone off in her face. She quickly stepped out of the path of a pair of towheaded kids, squealing and laughing while they played a game of chase through the crowd of well-wishers.

With a sigh, she glanced around in hopes of catching Mandy’s eye, but instead her gaze settled on the groom’s brother, who stood on the fringe of the festivities. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Though she couldn’t agree with his methods, she figured his heart had been in the right place when he’d tried to stop the wedding. And at the moment, he looked as if he felt as out-of-place and miserable as she did. Sensing a kinship of sorts, she moved to stand beside him.

“How’s the lip?”

He lifted the ice pack he held at the corner of his mouth and muttered, “It hurts,” then replaced it.

Lacey stepped in front of him, squinting her eyes to better see his face in the glow from the torches lining the fan-shaped patio. “That eye looks pretty bad, too. Have you put anything on it?”

He puckered his brow, obviously unaware of the injury, and lifted a hand to inspect it. He flinched when his fingers grazed the raw flesh.

She bit back a grin. “I guess you haven’t.” She glanced toward the house, wondering if she could find a first-aid kit in the kitchen, then shuddered when she saw the sea of people she’d have to wade through in order to reach the back door. Squaring her shoulders, she hooked her arm through his. “Come on, killer. I’ve got some horse liniment in my trailer.”

“Horse liniment!” he cried, jerking her to a stop. “I’m no horse.”

She chuckled and gave him a tug, all but dragging him toward the barn where her truck and trailer were now parked. “No, but judging by the show you put on earlier, you could be a distant relation. A jackass,” she explained at his questioning look.

He snorted, then winced at the pain the action caused him.

Chuckling, she slipped her arm from his and opened the side door that led to the trailer’s sleeping quarters. She stepped inside, pausing to flip on a light. Moving easily in the confined space, she opened a cabinet door and pulled down a first-aid kit. When she saw that Travis still stood outside, watching her warily, she gestured for him to join her. “It’s okay, killer,” she said, holding up the box. “I’ve got medications for humans, too.”

Reluctantly he climbed inside. She waved him toward a wide, padded bench that she hoped to someday convert into a bed for use when she was traveling the rodeo circuit. “Have a seat and I’ll take a look.”

He dropped down, his look guarded as he watched her flip open the box and remove a packet.

“Pre-soaked antiseptic gauze,” she said, responding to the suspicion in his eyes.

When she tried to apply the gauze to the cut, he reared his head back and grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “You hurt me,” he warned, meeting her gaze, “and I’ll have to hurt you back.”

The strength in his hand surprised her, but it was the emotion in his brown eyes that had the breath backing up in her lungs. Anger, frustration, concern. They all churned there, but it was his concern—a concern she instinctively attributed to his lingering worry over his brother’s marriage—that squeezed at her heart. Hoping to distill the sympathy she felt building, she teased, “Sissy.”

His scowl deepened, but he loosened his grip on her hand.

Mindful of his warning, though she sensed he wasn’t the kind of man who would make good the threat, she kept her touch gentle as she dabbed the gauze at the cut, cleaning it. “That brother of yours has a mean right hook.”

“Lucky punch,” he muttered disagreeably.

She bit back a smile. “Maybe,” she conceded, and continued to cleanse the wound. “Was it really worth all this to try to stop his wedding?”

“It would’ve been if I’d succeeded.”

“You said he was crazy.”

“Poor choice of words.”

“What is he, then?”

“Confused. Grieving.” He sighed heavily. “He lost his son and his ex-wife in an automobile accident less than a year ago. He’s been on the run ever since.”

“Tough break.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“So you think he’s marrying on the rebound?”

“It’s a possibility. A strong one.”

“He sounded sincere enough to me.”

“Maybe,” he said doubtfully.

With a shrug of apparent indifference, Lacey tossed aside the strip of gauze and picked up another.

Travis watched her, frowning, wishing he shared her detachment. But he didn’t. Jack was his brother. His twin brother. And when Jack hurt, so did he. Jack’s first marriage had left scars that Travis felt partially responsible for, and the accident that had stolen his son had left his brother—in Travis’s opinion—emotionally unstable. As a result, he felt duty-bound to see that his brother wasn’t hurt again.

He sighed heavily, feeling the frustration building. He didn’t want to think about his brother’s current emotional state any more, or his own failure to stop the wedding.

And the woman who was nursing his cuts offered just the distraction he needed to forget his troubles for awhile. A tight little butt, small waist, full ripe breasts. Sensuous lips pursed in concentration.

His own lips began to curve upward as she moved to stand between his spread knees again. Yeah, she was just the distraction he needed. Pleased with his current situation, he laid his head back and closed his eyes, prepared to enjoy the feminine attention. He felt her fingers graze his temple as she combed back his hair, then the weight of her hand when she pressed her palm against the side of his head, holding his hair out of her way. Soothed by her touch, he inhaled deeply…and filled his senses with her. No flowery perfumes for this woman, he reflected, fully relaxed now. Just soap, sunshine and pure woman.

Intrigued by her and by the brief story John Lee had shared with him about her questionable ancestry, he opened his eyes to study her. The light was behind her and left shadows on her face, but he could see well enough to make out her features. Wide green eyes framed by long dark lashes, a cute button of a nose with a light sprinkling of freckles across its bridge. Full sensuous lips, a stubborn chin.

A face full of contradictions.

As he decided this, she placed a finger beneath his chin and angled his face toward the light, furrowing her forehead in concern.

“That cut’s pretty deep,” she said uneasily. “You might need a couple of stitches.”

“Can you sew?”

Startled by the question, she shifted her gaze to his. “No,” she said, then bit back a smile when she saw that he was teasing. She glanced at the cut again and sighed, shaking her head. “But without stitches, you’re going to have a scar.”

“It’ll just add character.”

She shrugged as she straightened. “It’s your face.”

“And a handsome one, huh?”

She snorted a laugh and tossed aside the square of soiled cotton. “Watch it. Your ego’s showing.”

He caught her hand, and pulled her back around to face him. “Are you a nurse?”

Standing so close, Lacey had to admit that he was right. He did have a handsome face. And, fat lip or not, the sexiest smile she believed she’d ever seen.

Uncomfortably aware of the hand that held hers, she eased free and reached for the antiseptic cream. “No. I’m a barrel racer.” She squeezed a dollop of cream onto her finger and leaned to smear it on the cut.

“A barrel racer, huh? Too bad. You’d have made a good nurse. You’ve got a nice touch.”

Not knowing what to say in reply, she remained silent as she dabbed the cream along the wound.

“You’re Lacey, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’d have guessed right off.”

“Guessed what?” she asked absently, concentrating on keeping the cream on the cut and out of his eye.

“That you’re a McCloud.”

She jerked her hand away and straightened, staring down at him. “How?”

“You look just like ’em.”

Frowning, she tore her gaze from his and grabbed a rag to wipe the cream from her fingers. “No, I don’t.”

When he laughed, she shot him a look sharp enough to fillet a fish…but he just smiled. “Sorry, but you do.”

“I do not,” she repeated firmly.

“Yeah, you do.” When she huffed a breath, he laughed again. “I didn’t mean that as an insult. Hell, they’re all beautiful women.” He watched her rip open a bandage, her jerky movements reflecting her agitation, and added, “But I guess, being a woman, you wouldn’t have noticed that.” Her scowl deepened as she leaned to place the bandage over the cut. “Now, take me for instance—” he began, then flinched when she pressed the bandage into place.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“No harm done,” he said and continued with his observation. “I noticed right off how pretty they were, and I knew immediately that they were sisters.”

“How? They don’t look a thing alike.”

“Their colorings different, and they’re built differently, but the similarities are there.”

Having completed her first aid, she gave him a nudge with her hip, making room for herself on the bench, then dropped down beside him. Pulling the kit to her lap, she started replacing the supplies. “Enlighten me.”

“The way they walk, the way they talk. They’re all three strong women, sure of themselves and each other and their place in the family unit.”

Lacey snorted and closed the lid with a snap. “Well, if that’s what you’re basing your assessment on, you’re wrong, because I don’t have a place in this family.”

“Yeah, you do.” He grinned when she turned to glare at him. “You just haven’t found it, yet.”

“Yeah, right,” she muttered and stood, stretching to replace the kit in the cabinet.

Travis watched her, noticing the way her shirt molded those firm breasts, the tiny waist, the slender hips, the long stretch of muscular legs. He appreciated a beautiful woman, always had, and he considered the one he was currently looking at a prime example of the gender.

Deciding the trip to the Double-Cross might not be a total loss after all, he smiled as he took advantage of her precarious position and bumped his foot against her left boot, knocking her off-balance. She sucked in a startled breath, flailing her arms in an attempt to recover…but dropped neatly into his lap, just as he’d planned.

He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and snugged her back against his chest, nuzzling his nose in her hair. “Is this a bed I’m sitting on?” he whispered at her ear.

She held her body rigid against his. “Y-yes.”

“Is it big enough for two to lie down on?”

“N-no.”

“That’s okay,” he said, and nipped playfully at her earlobe, “’cause I was kinda hoping you’d be stretched out on top of me, anyway.”

Two

Lacey wasn’t sure who she was madder at. Travis for making a pass at her, or herself for being tempted by it.

She quickly decided it was Travis who deserved her anger.

“Of all the nerve,” she muttered darkly as she stalked down the long hall in search of Mandy. Imagine him making a move like that, and after she’d been nice enough to doctor his wounds for him, too. And he’d called his brother crazy. She snorted in disgust. In her opinion, Travis was the one with the mental problem.

She stopped at the door one of the guests had directed her to, and drew in a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down before she stepped inside for the long-awaited meeting with her half sisters.

Mandy rose with a sigh of relief from behind a massive desk. “I was afraid you’d given up on us and left.”

Feigning nonchalance, Lacey lifted a shoulder. “Thought about it.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement and glanced over to find Merideth and Sam sitting on the couch. Sam smiled at her. Merideth, her lips pursed in displeasure, merely lifted a neatly arched brow.

Mandy gestured toward a wingback chair placed at an angle to both the sofa and the desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Feeling much like she had at the age of twelve when she’d been called to the principal’s office for putting a frog in Elizabeth Conners’s lunchbox, Lacey dropped down onto the edge of the chair and wiped damp palms down her thighs.

Mandy sat too. “I apologize for the delay, but—” She laughed and sank wearily against the chair’s back, lacing her fingers over her abdomen. “It’s been rather an unusual day.”

“You can say that again,” Lacey replied dryly.

“Why don’t you tell us about yourself,” Mandy suggested, offering a warm smile of encouragement.

“You mean, about my relationship to Lucas?”

“Well, yes,” Mandy said and shrugged self-consciously. “Naturally, we have a few questions.”

“I doubt I have any answers.”

With a humph, Merideth folded her arms across her breasts. “Some proof that you’re Lucas’s daughter would be nice.”

“Merideth!” Sam and Mandy exclaimed, mortified by her rudeness.

Their sister flung out an arm, sending the gold bangles on her wrist clinking musically as she gestured toward Lacey. “Well, how do you know she isn’t some scam artist who’s trying to steal a piece of the Double-Cross?”

Mandy gave Merideth a quelling look before turning to Lacey, her expression softening with regret. “I’m sorry, but surely you must realize how difficult this is for us all.”

Though Merideth’s comment had stung, Lacey fought back the resentment, knowing that of all the reactions her claim to be Lucas’s daughter had drawn, Merideth’s was the most logical. “No apology necessary. I’d probably want the same, if I were in y’all’s position.” She lifted her hands, palms up. “But I don’t have the proof you want. Only what my mother told me.”

Mandy leaned forward, resting her forearms on the desk. “And what was that?”

“Just that she met Lucas at a horse show when she was nineteen. I don’t know how old he would’ve been at the time, but I’m twenty-three, so you can do the math. They had an affair. A brief one. I was the by-product,” she added bitterly.

Though she would have liked nothing better than to end the explanation there, she took a deep breath and forced herself to go on, hoping that once they heard it all, they would allow her to leave in peace. “When my mother discovered she was pregnant, she contacted Lucas and demanded that he marry her. He refused. My mother had been dating another man off and on for a while, both before and after Lucas, and he agreed to marry her instead. I didn’t know until my twenty-first birthday that the man she’d married wasn’t my father.”

As she listened, Mandy puckered her brow in confusion. “Why did your mother wait until you were twenty-one to tell you the truth of your parentage?”

“She probably wouldn’t have told me then, but she had no other choice.” She sat up straighter, refusing to let the pain of Lucas’s rejection show. “Lucas didn’t want me, but he set up a trust fund for me that became mine on my twenty-first birthday.”

“You’ve known for two years that Lucas was your father?”

Lacey glanced at Sam, who had asked the question, and slowly nodded.

“So why did you wait until now to come here?” Merideth snapped peevishly.

Lacey narrowed an eye as she shifted her gaze to Merideth’s. “It took me that long to get past the hate.”

Silence hummed in the room for a full thirty seconds as the two women engaged in a stubborn staring match. Lacey was the one to break it. She turned to Mandy, her eyes darkened in anger. “My turn to ask a question. Why is it that no one, other than her,” she said, with a jerk of her head in Merideth’s direction, “seems to doubt my claim to be Lucas’s daughter?”

“I don’t doubt your claim,” Merideth cut in. “It’s your motive that I question.”

Lacey was on her feet, her eyes blazing, before Mandy or Sam could chastise their sister again for her rudeness. “If you think I’m here to claim a part of this ranch, you’re wrong.” She jammed a hand in her pocket, jerked out a folded piece of paper and slapped it on the desk in front of Mandy. “That’s my check for the twenty-five thousand Lucas put in trust for me, plus the interest it earned over the years. My only purpose in coming here today was to shove it down his throat and tell him I don’t need him or his money.”

Mandy rose, her eyes filled with compassion. “Oh, Lacey. I’m so sorry. Lucas was a—”

“Mom!” Jaime, Mandy’s son, burst into the room, his face pale, his eyes wide with fear. “Come quick. Billy fell off the top bunk and he’s bleeding really bad.”

Sam and Merideth jumped up and ran for the door, followed quickly by Jaime. Mandy snatched up the check and rounded the desk. She stopped in front of Lacey and grabbed her hand, pressing the check into it. “This is yours.”

Fighting back tears, Lacey tried to pull free. “I don’t want Lucas’s money or anything else that was his.”

Mandy forced Lacey’s fingers to curl around the check. “Believe me. I understand how you feel. But Lucas owes you a lot more than this.”

“Mom!” Jaime yelled from the hallway. “Hurry!”

Mandy squeezed Lacey’s fist between her hands. “God, I’m sorry to keep doing this to you, but Billy is one of Alayna and Jack’s children and our responsibility while they’re on their honeymoon. If you could wait for just a little while longer.”

Then she was gone, leaving Lacey alone in the office.

Lacey drew in a shaky breath as she continued to stare at her fist, still able to feel the warmth and compassion of Mandy’s hands around it. Her sister. Half sister, she corrected. She let her head loll back, closing her eyes as emotion rose to burn her throat.

Oh, God, she’d always wanted a sister, the support and love of a caring family. But why did she have to find it here, in the home of the man who had rejected her?

Gulping back the sob that threatened, she forced her eyes open…and found herself looking straight into the eyes of Lucas McCloud.

She knew it was Lucas in the portrait, though there was nothing that identified the man as such. The eyes that stared back at her were the same green as her own, the same green as Mandy’s. But the artist had captured a hardness, a coldness in his eyes that was lacking in Mandy’s…and she hoped in hers. Drawn by her first glimpse of the man who had sired her, she moved closer to the portrait.

He sat astride a stallion, black as midnight, who stood on the edge of a high cliff. Blue sky surrounded them, and nothing but sheer rock lay below. There was an arrogance, a wildness about both horse and rider, that she could almost feel. A shiver chased down her spine as she stared unblinking at the man who had shunned her.

She could see why her mother had given herself to him. He was handsome, dangerously so, and projected an image as big as the state he called home. She felt the tears burn in her throat, behind her eyes, in her nose. He’d rejected his own daughter without even knowing her, refused to give her his name when he knew full well that she was of his blood. Her fingers curled, crumpling the check within her clenched fist.

“Bastard,” she whispered. She threw the balled paper onto the desk and whirled, turning her back on Lucas McCloud as he had on her so many years before.

Mandy picked up the wad of paper from the desk and smoothed it open over her palm. “She’s gone,” she said, her voice heavy with regret as she lifted her gaze to look at her sisters. “And she left the check.”

Merideth caught her lower lip between her teeth. “It’s my fault. I was rude. Cruel.”

Sam slung an arm around her shoulders. “Nah, you were just being you.”

Merideth whipped her head around and gave Sam a scathing look. Chuckling, Sam hugged her younger sister to her side. “Ah, come on, Sis. You know you’re our balance. If left up to Mandy, we’d already be preparing the fatted calf and welcoming Lacey into the fold, while I’d be stuttering and stammering, trying to figure out what to do with her.”

Pensively, Mandy tapped the check against her palm as she rounded the desk. “Sam’s right, Merideth. It isn’t your fault. But we’ve got to find her. She’s a McCloud. There’s no questioning that.” She turned to look at her father’s portrait and drew in a ragged breath. “For whatever reason, Lucas chose to deny her.” She stared at the portrait a moment, then tore her gaze from the picture of the man who had made all his daughters’ lives a living hell, and faced her sisters. “But we’re not,” she stated firmly. “She’s family.” She drew in a deep breath. “But first we’ve got to find her.” Moving to stand before the window, she looked out at the darkness beyond, her brow furrowed. “Oh, my God!” she cried, her eyes suddenly widening.

“What is it?” Sam asked in alarm.

Mandy whirled. “She’s at the barn,” she cried, racing for the door. “Hurry! We’ve got to stop her before she leaves.”

Lacey’s horse danced nervously as she led him from the borrowed stall where Mandy’s son had placed him earlier that afternoon. “It’s okay, Buddy,” she murmured softly, tightening her grip on the lead rope. “We’re going home.”

She led him through the barn’s wide doors and out into the moonlit night. But once outside, the horse’s uneasiness seemed to increase. He reared, nearly jerking Lacey off her feet. She quickly put slack in the line, and kept her voice low and soothing as she tried to calm him. “Too much strangeness, huh, Buddy? But it’s okay now. We’re heading home.”

He snorted and tossed his head, prancing nervously around her as she slowly drew in the slack. When she was within reach, she stretched out a hand and rubbed his cheek, trying to calm him. Though he stilled, his head remained high, his ears pricked, his eyes wild and darting.

“There’s nothing out here that’s going to get you,” she soothed. “Come on, Buddy,” she urged and gave a gentle tug on the lead rope. “Let’s load you in the trailer and we’ll hit the road.”

He followed skittishly, keeping tension on the line while he danced from side to side behind her. At the rear of the trailer, Lacey paused to swing open the double doors.

And heard Mandy call out to her.

“Lacey! Wait!”

“Come on, Buddy,” she urged, panic surging through her. “In you go.”

But the horse balked, sitting back on his haunches and pulling hard against the lead. Frustrated, she slapped the end of the rope across his rump. “Come on, Buddy,” she cried, anxious to get away. “Get in there!”

At that moment, an armadillo darted from beneath the trailer and straight into the horse’s path. The gelding reared, pawing at the air, then bolted forward, while the armadillo scuttled off into the darkness. Lacey jumped sideways, trying to get out of the horse’s way, but the frightened animal slammed into her side, knocking her down. She hit the ground hard, grunting when her left hip took the brunt of the fall. With her face pressed into the dirt, she heard the dull thud of flesh hitting metal, then the horse’s scream of pain. Her heart in her throat, she clawed her way to her feet. Dragging her sleeve across her face to clear the grit and tears from her eyes, she saw her horse standing ten feet away. He was trembling, blood oozing from a long gash on his shoulder.

Her breath burned painfully in her chest. “Buddy,” she whispered brokenly. She limped slowly toward him, stooping to pick up the end of the lead rope. She straightened, lifting her hand to fist her fingers in his mane, then bent to examine the cut. “Oh, God, Buddy, what have you done?” she sobbed, and buried her face against his neck.

“Lacey.”

She felt a hand go around her shoulders while another gently pried the lead rope from her fingers. Sobbing, she was pulled into Mandy’s arms.

“He’s h-hurt,” she cried, trying to push away. “I’ve got to take care of him.”

“I know, honey,” Mandy soothed, refusing to let her go. “But Sam’s a vet. She’ll know what to do.”

It would have been so easy to cling, to let someone else take charge, to give in to the warmth and comfort she’d been denied so long. But Lacey had been taking care of herself and what was hers for too many years to relinquish the control to someone else. Especially a McCloud. She sniffed furiously and backed from Mandy’s embrace, wiping a hand beneath her nose. She turned and saw Sam kneeling beside Buddy, while Jaime stood at the horse’s head, holding the animal steady.

Gulping back the sob that threatened, she limped across the short distance that separated them and dropped to her knees beside Sam. “How bad is it?” she asked, unable to keep the trembling from her voice.

“It’s deep,” Sam replied, frowning in concentration as she smoothed a skilled hand down the horse’s leg, checking for other injuries. “But not as bad as I first thought.” She glanced up at her nephew. “Get my bag out of my truck, Jaime. And I’ll need some antibiotic. There should be a vial in the refrigerator in the barn.”

Her eyes wide with fear, Lacey watched Jaime jog away into the night. “Can I haul him?” she asked anxiously, turning back to Sam.

“I wouldn’t.”

“But I have a rodeo next weekend.”

Sam must have heard the desperation in her voice, because she spun slowly on the balls of her feet to face Lacey. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay off of him longer than that.”

Tears flooded Lacey’s eyes, and Sam laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you stay here with us?” When Lacey opened her mouth to refuse, Sam squeezed. “Give him a week to heal. And a week for us to get to know you,” she added softly.

Her hands still shook a little as Lacey made the turn at the Y in the road as Mandy had directed. On the seat beside her lay the key to the cabin, the concession she’d agreed to when Mandy had refused to allow her to drive into Austin to stay in a motel. Though all three of the McCloud sisters had offered her their homes, Lacey had refused their hospitality. The thought of the intimacy required in living for a week with any one of them was more than she felt she could handle. Her emotions were too raw, and much too close to the surface. Besides, she knew they’d already divvied up Jack and Alayna’s six foster children between them and would have their hands full caring for them while the newlyweds were on their honeymoon. She didn’t want to be a burden…but more, she didn’t want to be in their debt.

She sighed wearily, thinking of Buddy bedded down in one of their stalls, of Sam tending his wound, and silently acknowledged that she was already in their debt.

Seeing the cabin ahead, she parked her truck alongside it, then grabbed her duffel bag from the seat behind her. Climbing down, she groaned as pain shot into her hip, a result of the bruised muscle she’d gained in the fall. Limping gingerly, she headed for the porch and fumbled the key into the lock. She gave the door a push and stepped inside, feeling along the wall for the light switch. After flipping it on, she looked quickly around to get her bearings, then switched it off and headed for the far door and the bedroom beyond.

Once inside the room, she dropped her bag and reached for the light switch.

“Well, hello.”

She jumped and whirled, a scream clawing its way up her throat. She nearly choked on it when she saw Travis lying in the bed, propped up on his elbows, grinning at her.

“What are you doing here?” she cried furiously.

Unconcerned, he sat up and plumped a pillow behind his head, then settled back against it. He folded his arms across his bare chest and smiled at her. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

“Mandy gave me the key and told me I could stay here.”

“My brother gave me a key and told me the same thing.”

She stared at him, unable to prevent her gaze from slipping to the wall of muscled chest, the bulge of biceps on his folded arms, the sheet that draped his lower body from his navel down…and wondered if he was naked beneath it. Feeling the heat staining her neck, she jerked her gaze back to his. “B-but you can’t stay here,” she stammered. “I am.”

He smiled and patted the mattress beside him. “There’s room enough for two.”

With a snort of disgust, Lacey snatched her duffel bag from the floor. “I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

“Why not?” he returned, feigning innocence. “We’re family.”

“We are not!”

“Sure we are. My brother married your cousin, so that makes us family, too.”

Infuriated by his twisted logic, she whirled for the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower, then I’m going to bed.” At the door, she stopped and turned. “On the couch,” she added tersely then slammed the door between them.

Travis heard the click of the lock, and tucked his hands behind his head, chuckling softly. Things were definitely looking up.

When he’d tried to talk to Jack again as his brother and his new wife were preparing to leave on their honeymoon, Jack had refused once again to listen to reason. Travis’s threat that he was remaining at the ranch until he was sure that Jack wasn’t making another mistake hadn’t even fazed his brother. Jack had just tossed him the key to the cabin and told him that if he was staying to make himself at home, do a little fishing and maybe do a few repairs on the old barn.

Travis’s smile broadened. Another week of his two-week vacation left to enjoy. A snug cabin, four lakes to fish and a beautiful woman to look at. Yeah, he thought smugly. Things were definitely looking up.

Lacey couldn’t sleep. Her mind churned with the day’s events and her chest ached with all the emotion bottled up inside.

A family, she kept telling herself over and over again. She had a family.

But she didn’t want another family, she argued silently, punching her pillow and bunching it beneath her cheek as she flopped over onto her side on the narrow couch. The one she’d left behind in Missouri had soured her for ever wanting another one.

The thought of her parents brought another swell of tears. All she’d ever wanted from them was their love, but they’d never been willing to give her even that. In retrospect, she could almost understand her stepfather’s coolness toward her. After all, he wasn’t her natural father, and he must have begrudged having to raise another man’s child as his own.

Lucas. Her chest tightened painfully. He’d never even given her a chance. He’d simply turned his back on her and gone on with his life as if she had never existed.

And her mother…she choked on a sob and pressed her hand over her mouth to smother it. The one person who should have loved her, didn’t. If anything, she resented Lacey. In her mother’s eyes, Lacey had robbed her of her dreams, and every time she looked at her daughter she was reminded of that loss.

It didn’t help that Lacey had succeeded where her mother had failed. A professional barrel racer, JoAnn Cline had been forced to give up her goal of winning a world championship when she’d discovered she was pregnant with Lacey. Lacey, though, without the encumbrance of a husband and children, had been free to pursue that dream, and was close, real close, to achieving her goal.

But not without Buddy.

Her lips trembled uncontrollably as her thoughts shifted to her horse and the injury he’d suffered. Without him she couldn’t compete, and she’d lose her place in the standings and her chance for Las Vegas and a shot at the world title. But worse than the loss of the title was the thought of losing her best friend. And that was what Buddy was to her. They’d been a team for six years, traveling the circuit, sometimes even sharing a rented stall when Lacey lacked the funds for a motel room. In some ways, she felt closer to him than she did to her mother or her stepfather.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to block out the disturbing thoughts.

But another, even more troubling image, slipped in to replace them.

Travis Cordell.

Even as she thought of him, the iron bed creaked in the other room, reminding her of his presence in the small cabin. She pulled the blanket to her chin, picturing him as he’d looked when she’d first discovered him in the cabin. Reared back against the headboard; that wall of muscled chest; wearing nothing but a rakish smile and a sheet draped low on his waist.

She remembered the feel of his arms around her from earlier that evening, when he’d pulled her onto his lap in the trailer, the magnetic pull of his sexy smile, the huskiness in his voice when he’d whispered his intention to make love with her on the trailer’s narrow cot.

She flopped to her opposite side and bunched the pillow beneath her cheek. She didn’t want to think about him. And she wouldn’t, she told herself firmly.

My brother married your cousin, so that makes us family.

Cousins.

Half sisters.

Nieces and nephews.

Family.

She felt the tears rising again, and was helpless to keep them back as her thoughts churned full circle once again.

Travis awakened with a start, lifting his head from his pillow to listen. Slowly, he pushed himself to an elbow and stared at the closed door from behind which the sound came.

A shiver chased down his spine as the muffled sobs that had awakened him grew louder, more desperate.

What was going on? Was she hurt? Sick? Having a nightmare?

Not my problem, he told himself and dropped back down on the mattress, pulling the pillow over his head to block out the sound. She’d made it more than clear that she didn’t want anything to do with him.

But the sobs continued, penetrating the thick down that covered his head and wearing on his nerves until he tossed the pillow aside with a growl and rolled to his feet. Muttering curses under his breath, he jerked on his jeans and stalked barefoot into the living room.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. Sitting on the sofa, limned by moonlight, her feet drawn up beneath her, her body bent almost double, her face buried in a pillow she held fisted across her lap. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a more pitiful sight…or hearing a more heartbreaking sound.

“Lacey?” he called softly.

When she didn’t respond, he crossed the room and hunkered down in front of her, bracing his hands on her knees. “Lacey. What’s wrong?”

She jerked away from his touch, curling tighter into herself. “Leave me alone,” she sobbed, her voice muffled by the pillow she kept pressed to her face.

Though there was nothing he’d like better, try as he might, Travis discovered he couldn’t leave her. With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself to his feet, then sank down on the couch beside her, draping an arm along the back of the couch behind her. He stared at the top of her head a moment, unsure what to do, then sighed again. He dropped his hand on top of her head and scrubbed roughly. “Hey. Come on. Nothing’s that bad.”

“Go away,” she wailed.

“Nope. Not until you stop your blubbering.”

She lifted her head from the pillow to glare at him, her eyes red and swollen, tears streaming down her face. “I’ll cry if I want to.”

He cocked his head thoughtfully as if reminded of something. “Isn’t there a song that goes something like that?” He hummed a few bars and then ducked, laughing, when she swung the pillow at him.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she cried furiously.

He sobered quickly and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh.”

“Well, I’m not laughing.” She jerked the pillow back to her lap, wadding it into a ball, and stubbornly turned her face away from him.

“You’re not crying, either,” he pointed out gently.

And she didn’t want to cry any more. Especially not in front of him. But the tears were there, pushing at her throat. She shook back her hair and inhaled deeply, valiantly fighting them back.

“I guess you’ve had a pretty tough day, huh?” he said, watching her carefully.

She sniffed and dashed a finger beneath her nose. “I’ve had better.”

“The McClouds seem nice enough.”

Remembering Merideth and her caustic remarks, she replied bitterly, “Most of them.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

She pressed her lips together as much in frustration as to hold back the tears. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, I do.”

She whirled to glare at him. “Why don’t you just go back to bed?”

“I will, if you’ll come with me.”

She snorted her opinion of his suggestion and whipped around to face the wall again.

He scooted closer. “Come on, Lacey. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you? Sometimes talking helps.”

He watched her chest swell and her chin quiver as she fought back the tears. But in spite of her efforts, a tear slipped over her lower lashes and slid down her cheek. Another quickly followed.

“Aw, Lace,” he said gruffly, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hugging her hard against his side. “Don’t start crying again.”

She struggled, obviously not wanting his comfort, but he tightened his hold on her, refusing to let her go. He felt a shudder move through her and when she tried to bury her face in the pillow again, he tugged it from her hands and tossed it aside. He forced her face against his shoulder, and it was as if he’d pulled the plug on a dam. He could feel the sobs that ripped through her body, the hot tears that scalded his arm and chest…and did what he felt any man would do in his place.

Prayed the well would soon run dry.

But in spite of his prayers, the sobs continued both in intensity and volume, until they echoed in his head and reverberated through his body.

“Lacey,” he said in concern, leaning to smooth her hair from her face. “You’ve got to stop or you’re going to make yourself sick.”

But she only cried that much harder.

“Is there something I can get you? Water? Aspirin?” When she didn’t respond, he dipped his chin and turned her face up toward his. “Isn’t there anything I can do?”

The eyes that met his were flooded with tears. “H-he didn’t w-want me.”

“Lucas?”

She hiccuped a sob and nodded, then buried her face in her hands, her shoulders heaving violently.

He wrapped his arm tighter around her. “His mistake,” he said gruffly. “The guy must have been an ass.”

“M-my parents d-didn’t want me, e-either.”

“That’s not true,” he argued gently. He smoothed a hand over her hair, trying to comfort her. “All parents love their kids. There’s an unwritten law somewhere that says they have to, no matter what.”

“M-mine d-don’t,” she sobbed hysterically.

“Aw, Lacey,” he said, his voice growing husky. He drew her against his side and squeezed. “Nobody’s worth this many tears.”

If she heard him, she didn’t respond. And she sure as heck didn’t quit crying. Heaving a frustrated sigh, Travis tipped her chin up. “Come on, now. Surely there must be something that I can do to make you feel better?”

The eyes that looked up at him were flooded with tears. “H-hold m-me.”

He shook his head to clear his ears, sure that he’d misunderstood her. “Hold you?” he repeated.

Her breath hitched as she bobbed her head.

“Okay,” he said hesitantly and wrapped his other arm loosely around her, drawing her within his embrace. When he did, she threw her arms around his neck on a strangled sob, and pressed her body against his. His eyes widened in surprise at the strength, the desperation with which she clung to him. Moments ago she’d been shoving him away, demanding that he leave, and now she was clinging to him as if she was drowning and he was the only lifeboat around.

Even as he thought this, he became aware of other things. How small and fragile she felt in his arms, how defenseless, unlike the image she’d projected earlier. Tough. Independent. That I-don’t-need-anybody-and-I’m-getting-along-just-fine-on-my-own attitude that she wore so well.

In spite of his reluctance to offer her comfort, he found himself drawing her more closely within his embrace. He could feel the heat of her body pressed against his, the almost manic beat of her heart against his chest. Her tears scalded his neck, and ran down his chest.

She needed him.

And Travis never allowed anyone to get close enough to need him for anything.

He swallowed back the emotion that rose in his throat. He knew what it was like to yearn for human comfort, to need so badly it hurt, and have no one to turn to with whom to share the pain. Though his was a self-inflicted banishment, one he’d orchestrated after Jack’s first marriage, a secret that ate like a cancer at his soul, he figured that his and Lacey’s situations weren’t all that different. Neither one of them had family they could turn to.

Over the years, he’d taught himself to do without the love and support of his family, and to take what warmth and comfort he could from whatever physical relationships he became involved in. But he did so without committing himself to anything or anyone in return. As a result, he’d developed a style that other men envied. He could sweet-talk his way into a woman’s bed and out of it just as quickly, without leaving any hard feelings behind when he left. Sweet talkin’, hard lovin’ man. That’s the name he’d earned. And that’s the image he wanted to keep.

But when he slipped his hand to Lacey’s hip to shift her onto his lap, he wasn’t thinking about sex, or how he might sweet-talk this woman into his bed. He was just doing as she’d asked. Holding her. Giving her the comfort she seemed to need so desperately.

Yet when he eased her across his lap, and his hand slid from her hip to her thigh, his palm meeting bare skin…his thoughts shifted away from comfort and came dangerously close to lust. Her skin was so soft, he thought in wonder, so warm to the touch. He could imagine it heating even more when aroused.

Her breath hitched once, and she buried her face in the curve of his neck, locking her arms more tightly around him. He could feel the fullness of her breasts flattened against his chest, the almost painful dig of her pelvic bone against his groin…yet another reminder of the intimacy of their position. It would be so easy to just ease her down onto the couch and stretch out beside her. To kiss her and touch her until she forgot all about her problems. To fill his hands with her ripe, full breasts, suckle them until she was begging him to make love to her.

Don’t even think it, Cordell, he warned himself. This isn’t the time or the place.

She shifted and he sucked in a raw breath when her hip grazed his manhood. He wanted to hold her there, feel the warmth of her femininity nestled around him…but he couldn’t. His conscience wouldn’t let him.

On a low, frustrated groan, he let his head fall back against the couch and squeezed his eyes shut. Of all the times to decide to become a Boy Scout, Cordell, he reflected miserably, you picked a hell of a good one.

With a resigned sigh, he continued to hold her, unconsciously stroking her thigh, his palm moving up and down her bare leg in slow, soothing strokes. When his knuckles hit the edge of the T-shirt she wore, he scrupulously reversed the movement, smoothing his palm down to her bent knee again, trying to keep his thoughts chaste.

He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Don’t cry, Lace,” he whispered at her ear. “Come on, baby. Don’t cry anymore.”

But it seemed as if she couldn’t stop.

And Travis couldn’t let her go. He continued to hold her until his arms ached, his rear end grew numb and his voice was hoarse from whispering unintelligible words of comfort. He held her until, with a last shuddery sigh, she burrowed deeper against his chest, laid a hand over his heart, and grew quiet.

Fearing that any movement from him would make her start crying again, he continued to stroke her leg. With each slow movement upward, her T-shirt rose a little higher on her thigh, until his fingertips brushed the elastic of her panties.

Relaxed now, his mind dulled by exhaustion, he slipped a finger beneath the thin band and slowly traced its edge. Back and forth. Back and forth. The calluses on his palm chafing against her tender skin. From the inside of her thigh to the swell of her buttocks. Back and forth. Back and forth in a mindless journey to nowhere.

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