“This isn’t happening,” she whispered.

“Something sure as hell is,” he muttered, sounding angry and lost too all of a sudden. “I should have stood my ground and stayed in London.”

“You could always just go.”

“No, it’s too late now. The damage is done.” His eyes devoured hers, and she thought he stared straight into her soul, which had always belonged only to him. “I’ve seen you. I’ve touched you. And I’m curious … about a lot of things.”

She didn’t understand the stillness that possessed her, held her and him. Was she in a trance? Was he? Clasped tightly against his tall, muscular body, his heat flooding her, she could barely think, barely breathe.

“I’m going to hate you for this,” she whispered, and then she kissed him.

Dear Reader,

While I grew up in a city in south Texas, the rest of my family lived in a small Texas ranching town near the Panhandle. One of the highlights of my summers back then was visiting my cousins up north and riding their horse, Gypsy, bareback … all day long. Maybe Gypsy didn’t enjoy this as much as we did because she regularly bucked us off.

Stories about independent women who love horses became a part of me early on. I’ve always liked reunion romances too. So, why not a reunion romance about a horse woman and the cowboy who left her behind to become a billionaire in London?

Six years later, when Luke returns home, Caitlyn is a widow with a son. Her ranch is heavily mortgaged and she is in danger of losing her horses.

Luke is the last man Caitlyn wants to have anything to do with. When Luke learns her son is his, he offers to help her … for a price. Of course, the price they will both have to pay for their new life together is love.

Enjoy,

Ann Major

P.S. Visit me at www.annmajor.com!

About the Author

ANN MAJOR lives in Texas with her husband of many years and is the mother of three grown children. She has a master’s degree from Texas A&M at Kingsville, Texas, and is a former English teacher. She is a founding board member of the Romance Writers of America and a frequent speaker at writers’ groups.

Ann loves to write; she considers her ability to do so a gift. Her hobbies include hiking in the mountains, sailing, ocean kayaking, traveling and playing the piano. But most of all she enjoys her family. Visit her website at www.annmajor.com.

Marriage
at the Cowboy’s
Command

Ann Major

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated to Stacy Boyd and Shana Smith

and the Desire team. Their names do not appear on

the cover, but they worked very hard to improve

this story, and I am deeply in their debt.

One

Desperation mounting, Caitlyn Wakefield stared at her accounting ledgers. There was no way she could make her next mortgage payment to Sheik Hassan Bin Najjar. No way.

So, what would she say to Hassan’s mysterious honorary son, Raffi Bin Najjar, when he showed up today to check on her operation?

She had no clue.

She’d gone over the books numerous times, hoping she’d figure out how to make her next payment and get her ranch on a viable financial footing, but all she saw were too many fixed expenses without enough income.

Even if she asked Hassan for more time, which she believed he would give her, she needed to make some serious and painful adjustments or she’d just be deeper in debt down the line. She couldn’t expect Hassan to bankroll her forever.

The awful numbers began to blur and her head to pound.

She hated disappointing Hassan. She wanted to make him proud of her. But the sales she’d counted on hadn’t materialized. And she was again on the verge of losing her ranch, just as she’d been six months ago when Hassan had helped her by buying her mortgage.

It was nothing short of a miracle that Hassan, one of the world’s richest sheiks, had become her friend, benefactor and banker. The fact that he was wealthy and she was not and that he spent most of his time in the Middle East and Europe while she lived in Texas would have been more than enough to keep them from ever knowing one another but for their mutual passion for Thoroughbreds.

They’d met by chance at the September yearling sales in Keeneland, Virginia, more than a year ago. Her timely advice had saved Hassan from buying an overpriced animal that had gone lame a mere four months later during a race, causing a jockey’s death. The animal had been destroyed. The sheik had written her a note, thanking her, saying he would have hated being involved in a tragedy of that magnitude.

Then, six months ago, he’d phoned her again when Sahara, one of his most promising Thoroughbreds, developed a problem with starting gates. Caitlyn had been stunned by the sheik’s offer to come to his stables in Deauville to work with the animal—for three times her normal fee.

It was just after her success with Sahara that he’d gotten to the bottom of her financial distress over a dinner they’d shared. Soon after, he bought her note from the bank.

Considering how much Hassan had done for her, she hated disappointing him. What could she say to his honorary son that would reassure Hassan?

Frustrated, she slammed the books shut. Only when her gaze fell to the small snapshot of her son, Daniel, riding bareback did her expression soften.

He’d been forbidden to ride the horse by himself, of course. Smiling, she picked up the picture and stared at his slim, dark likeness. Even when he was driving her crazy by being too curious or foolhardy, he filled her long days with joy. He was five, all boy and way too big for his britches a lot of the time, but she remembered how proud she’d been of him at Keeneland last year. Hassan, too, had been impressed with Daniel. So much so that he’d told her about his only biological son, Kalil, whom he’d nearly lost to a kidnapping in Paris a few years earlier.

“That’s when I made Raffi, the man who rescued Kalil, my honorary son,” Hassan had said.

She had smiled politely, her mind on the animals in the various pens and on Daniel, who’d been darting about under their feet.

“Your son reminds me of Raffi. So much energy. Once that energy is harnessed, he will be formidable.”

“Really?” she’d replied, not paying much attention to Hassan’s remark.

“Yes, even Daniel’s eyes resemble Raffi’s. They are the same shade of green. It’s an unusual color in my part of the world.”

“In ours, too,” she’d said absently. “His father had green eyes.”

They’d talked more, about Texas and her ranch. He’d asked for a card.

“Raffi once lived in Texas … in your vicinity, I believe.” Hassan’s gaze, more intent than before, had been on Daniel.

Ever since that first meeting at Keeneland, in all his calls and notes, Hassan always asked about Daniel. His grandfatherly interest in her son had become one of the chief reasons she liked the sheik so much.

Setting down Daniel’s picture, she tried to refocus on the problem at hand. She hated that she could think of nothing that would turn Wild Horse Ranch around. Not that she wasn’t used to being broke. When she was a child, her parents had constantly worried about bills and creditors. Never would she forget the day her father had told her and her mother that he’d lost their ranch. When they’d been forced to move into town and lease land for their ranching operation, she’d felt shattered. Nearly as shattered as she’d be if she couldn’t win Raffi Bin Najjar’s sympathy.

Chewing a fingernail, she went to the window and stared out at the sea of brown grasses. The early December air had been cool and crisp an hour before dawn, when she’d arisen. Her only indulgence before coming to her office was a single cup of strong black coffee.

To give me strength, she thought as she circled the cold cup with her fingertips.

What could she say to a stranger who probably knew little about ranching, even if he’d spent time in Texas? How could he—a wealthy, sophisticated man, who lived in London—possibly appreciate the calamity the worst drought in decades had wrought on her ranch and horse farm? How could a bachelor sympathize when she told him she’d been distracted and unfocused after her husband’s death, when she’d had her grief, his work and hers and her son to take care of? How could a billionaire understand the effect of an entire country mired in recession? Everybody wanted to sell their horses, not buy hers. Her income had diminished while her expenses had continued to mount. Business was picking up. But not quickly enough.

Swigging back the last of her cold coffee, she tried not to think about being the second Cooper to lose the ranch despite all her sacrifices to save it. The biggest sacrifice being her marriage to Robert, when she’d found herself pregnant and alone nearly six years ago. Not wanting to remember what had led to her wedding day, she fled to the stalls to feed her beloved horses.

Sensing her anxiety from the rapid ring of her boot heels on the concrete floor of the barn, Angel and the other horses swung their necks around and watched her with their concerned brown eyes. Their tails lifted and swished expectantly while the barn cats swirled at her feet.

Odd, the profound comfort she always felt when alone in the barn with these huge animals. Their soulful silence as she stroked them brought her peace during times of stress.

Angel nuzzled Caitlyn’s hand with her whiskery muzzle, searching for a treat. “Robert was a bad manager,” Caitlyn whispered to the horse, “and I’m no better. I spend too much money on all of you, my precious darlings.” Angel nickered softly as if she understood. “I need a miracle, and soon.”

Angel snorted.

“Well, it’s possible! Hassan says his son is a billionaire, that there’s nothing he can’t fix. Raffi made his fortune in a mere five years, you see, by buying distressed companies.”

Perhaps she could convince him that a distressed ranch wasn’t that different from a company in trouble. She felt a faint twinge of hope as she remembered what Hassan had said when he’d shamelessly bragged about his son.

In a recent phone conversation, when she’d complained of her escalating expenses, Hassan had told her she was a woman of talent who shouldn’t have to worry about money.

“I will send my son to devise a plan to put you on sound footing. He will know just what to do once he takes a look at your operation. He is a brilliant businessman.”

She’d been scheduled to meet this brilliant businessman six months ago, when the sheik had flown her to Deauville to work with Sahara. Hassan had told her that Raffi would dine with them, but his son had been unexpectedly called away on business.

To prepare for their meeting today, she’d researched Raffi, but there hadn’t been many articles about him or a single good photograph. Most of the stories rehashed the event that had brought Hassan and Raffi together, a tale she’d heard from Hassan.

Five years earlier, after Raffi had single-handedly confronted three terrorists to rescue Kalil, Hassan had hired him. Raffi advanced rapidly and, with the sheik’s money behind him, had soon branched out on his own. The sheik had sealed their bond by making Raffi his honorary son. During their shared dinner in Deauville, Hassan had confided that he would like to see Raffi settle down and raise a family.

From what she’d gleaned on the internet about the younger Mr. Bin Najjar’s private life, he went through women the way some men ran through cigars. But a woman like her—a horse trainer who wore old jeans and rarely bothered with makeup—wouldn’t interest him.

“What do you think, Angel? Should I go the extra mile and put on lipstick?”

Angel whinnied enthusiastically, probably because Caitlyn was holding a carrot.

“Lipstick it is, then. Maybe Mr. Raffi Bin Najjar will give us our very own miracle.”

As Caitlyn stroked the mare, she relaxed.

Only later would she wonder why she hadn’t had the slightest premonition that Raffi Bin Najjar was no stranger to Wild Horse Ranch—or to her.

By the afternoon, Caitlyn had forgotten all about the need for lipstick. All it had taken for her day to spin hopelessly out of control was one phone call.

Lisa, her best friend and owner of the neighboring ranch, had sounded so desperate. “You know bees stung Ramblin’ Man in his trailer last week, and he hasn’t been himself. I have to move him to Mom’s stud barn to cover a couple of mares, but he simply will not load. I don’t know what to do. Can you help me?”

“Only if you can ride him over here, and get someone to drive the trailer to my round pen,” Caitlyn had said. “Daniel’s ridden off somewhere with Manuel, and I’ve got an important business meeting in a couple of hours with Mr. Bin Najjar’s son.”

“Oh, right—about your mortgage.”

“Bin Najjar’s driver just phoned and said they’re on their way from the airport. So, I’m stuck here.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess I can make that work.”

So now, instead of going over her accounts, preparing for her meeting or bothering with lipstick, Caitlyn was standing in Ramblin’ Man’s shadowy horse trailer, holding a lead rope attached to the stallion’s halter. Wild-eyed Ramblin’ Man had only put a single hoof in the trailer and was staring at her as if she were a giant.

“It’s okay, baby. Nothing to be scared of,” Caitlyn said gently. Snapping the lead line, she backed Ramblin’ Man out of the trailer before he grew more alarmed. “You were so brave to put a foot into the trailer.”

When she gave the command to retreat, a relieved Ramblin’ Man jerked backward and raced away. Caitlyn jumped out of the trailer and watched him run. She’d bring him back in a minute or two. He needed to build up his courage to work on what they’d already accomplished.

“Caitlyn!” Lisa squealed from the far side of the round pen. “Why didn’t you tell me Luke Kilgore was your mysterious appointment?”

Caitlyn recoiled, the name of her former lover slicing her heart like a knife.

Luke? Luke, who’d left her pregnant at twenty-one?

No … Why would he show up today, of all days?

She jerked her head around and saw the tall, dark man in the flawlessly cut business suit lounging against the rail beside Lisa. The sight of him looking so virile and smolderingly masculine made her mouth go dry. Once, she had longed for Luke’s return, dreamed of it. But now her dream felt like a nightmare!

Those gorgeous green eyes, the high forehead, the chiseled cheek and jaw, that classically straight nose and those mocking, sensual lips that had once kissed every inch of her body—they could belong to no one but Luke. The shock of recognition made her shiver with torrid memories.

He was as handsome as ever, but this elegantly dressed man couldn’t possibly be the same bitterly ambitious cowboy she’d loved.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“My driver said he called and confirmed. You and I have an appointment.”

“You’re Raffi Bin Najjar?”

He nodded. “I’ve been known to answer to that.”

“What kind of man changes his name?”

“I have two names. The one I was born with and the one Hassan gave me when he asked me to be his honorary son. Hassan prefers to call me Raffi. So I let him. One of my weaknesses is indulging those I love.”

“You’re too old to be adopted,” she said, lashing out with her words.

“Who said anything about adoption?” His lips smiled, but his eyes didn’t. Obviously, he was a man of the world now.

“What exactly does it mean, then, to be an honorary son?”

“Ask Hassan. He probably made it up. Hell, for all I know I’m the only honorary son in the world.” He moved away from the rail. “Sorry my showing up here is such a shock,” he said.

“No, you aren’t. You deliberately tricked me!”

“Think what you like.”

“I don’t like anything about this situation!”

“Maybe neither the hell do I.”

Still, despite her fear and the nameless dark emotions engulfing her, his taunting, all-too-familiar, husky voice drew her, just like it had that first day when he’d stood on her porch asking if he could see her daddy because he’d needed a job and nobody else in the county would even talk to Bubba Kilgore’s son. She’d been a teenager and highly susceptible to the lure of the forbidden. Her crush had lasted several years—right up until he’d gotten her pregnant and left the county for good.

Well, at twenty-six, knowing what he was and what he’d done, she should be immune to his charms.

Right. If she was so grown-up and mature, why had the pace of her heart accelerated?

Her gaze darted past him to the house. Where was Daniel? She hoped, prayed he’d stay out of sight until she got rid of Luke.

“You’re looking good, Caitlyn,” Luke said, but his lips didn’t curve into the sexy smile that used to follow her name.

Not that she wanted it to.

“You, too,” she said reluctantly. The last thing she wanted to do was flatter him. “How is this possible?” she said, motioning to him, standing in her yard.

“What? The son of the county’s no-account drunk making good?”

Lisa’s sudden burst of flirtatious laughter was awkward. “Don’t run yourself down. You’ve come a long way since then, Luke. You never were anything like Bubba.”

“Thanks.”

“Caitlyn’s told me how rich your honorary father is! And how rich you are!” She moistened her lips and glanced at him slyly through her long, dark eyelashes.

Luke looked away.

Caitlyn winced. Her friend’s excessive interest in Luke bothered her. As did her words.

She remembered how Luke had once had a habit of making self-deprecating remarks. People laughed, as he’d intended, but she’d known his jokes had covered soul-deep shame for having Bubba as a father. Luke had always wanted to be more than he’d been. Well, now he was rich and powerful, but was he any happier?

Quickly she reminded herself that his happiness wasn’t her problem. He’d jilted her and moved on to better things, more beautiful women. He’d probably never hungered for her—as she’d hungered for him.

Or had he? He did seem as keenly aware of her as she was of him, which was hatefully gratifying.

As Lisa leaned closer to him, Caitlyn insinuated herself between them. “So, you really are Raffi Bin Najjar? I did some research, but couldn’t find much.”

Luke pushed away from the railing and stood taller. He’d filled out, but on him, the extra weight looked good. She was sure he was made of hot, solid muscle. The thought of touching him now made her own skin heat.

“I pay people to remove stuff I don’t want on the web,” Luke said.

“You can do that?”

“Most of the time. I’m not a movie star, so I’m not hounded by the paparazzi unless I’m out with somebody famous.”

“Like your supermodel girlfriends?”

His mouth twisted. “Jealous?”

“Of course not! But you should have told me who you were, you know.”

“Why? I’m here as a favor to Hassan. Not because I want to make your life easier. For some reason, he’s become fascinated by you and your affairs.”

“He’s been extremely helpful.”

“Yes, and I want to know why. I couldn’t find out if I’d tipped you off.”

“He told me you once lived here, but, of course, since I didn’t know who you really were, I thought nothing of it.”

“I’m as curious about his motivations as you are. Did you two talk about me the night you went to dinner in France?”

“Not much.”

“Did he tell you he invited me to come that night?”

“Yes, but I didn’t know who you were, so I didn’t pursue it.”

“I watched you through binoculars when you were working with Sahara and decided to bow out.”

So, Luke had been in Deauville, too, and had deliberately rejected her. Again.

This whole situation felt like a setup. She remembered Hassan’s comments at Keeneland about the color of Daniel’s eyes. She remembered Hassan asking her about Daniel over dinner in Deauville. When he’d asked questions about her son, she’d thought he was merely being polite. She’d been so proud of Daniel. She’d talked way too much about him, given away too much. She’d shown Hassan pictures, and he’d stared at them for a long time, even asking if he could keep one.

Had Hassan figured out who Daniel’s father was? As one of the world’s richest men, he could probably find out anything he wanted to know. Of course he would be curious about his protégé’s past. Had he sent Luke here to discover Daniel?

Maybe this reunion could have been avoided if she’d been more clever. But no, she’d taken Hassan’s actions at face value. He’d written her a note after Keeneland, and fool that she’d been, she’d felt flattered that such a man had remembered her name. When he’d called and asked her to help with Sahara, she’d been flattered again. And she’d needed the money too badly to question his motives. Then, once she was in France, she’d been too impressed by the glamour of his château and stables to think rationally.

“We stuck to small talk mostly,” she said now, without mentioning their conservation about Daniel.

“But after taking you to dinner, he bought your mortgage. Anything happen … after dinner?” Luke’s hot gaze slid over her slowly, causing her nerves to sizzle. Did he think she was easy because she’d been easy with him?

“Don’t you dare insinuate that your … ‘father’ and I had an affair, because we didn’t. He was nice to me. That’s all.”

The intensity of Luke’s gaze unnerved her. “Half a million dollars nice?”

“During dinner, I told him about my ranch. We got into finances, and I was frank about my problems. I was afraid I was about to lose the ranch. He said he appreciated what I had done for Sahara and that he wanted to help me. He stunned me by saying he’d buy the mortgage and help me get back onto my feet.”

“That was all there was to it? Hassan doesn’t make a habit of befriending people and rescuing them.”

“He calls you his son!”

“I saved his kid’s life. Took a bullet, too. You work with Sahara an hour or two—and he buys your mortgage? I don’t get it.”

She hadn’t, either—although she now had a few suspicions.

“I needed the money, so I took what he offered. Wouldn’t anybody in my position have done the same thing? Didn’t you?”

“He taught me a lot when I went to work for him,” Luke agreed. “He opened a lot of doors.”

“I’ll say. Those doors must have been made of solid gold. Five years later you’re a billionaire.”

Ramblin’ Man walked over to the trailer and stuck his nose inside. She noted his behavior, but couldn’t take any satisfaction in his progress, so long as Luke was here.

“It’s true. I owe him everything. And I think the only reason Hassan helped you was because of me,” Luke said.

“You? I don’t get it.”

“Somehow he must have figured out we’d been involved. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for family, and if you claimed some tie to me …”

“But I didn’t.”

She again remembered Hassan’s comments about Daniel’s eyes and she felt afraid. Still, with an air of bravado, she said, “Why don’t you ask him why he helped me?”

“I did ask him. He was evasive. So, I came here to satisfy my curiosity, and because Hassan forced the issue. The fact is, this ranch is the last place I’d willingly return to. Just as you are the last person I’d help, if I had a choice. But Hassan wants to help you, and he asked me to figure out how to do it, so here we are—stuck with each other.”

“Why don’t you just leave?”

“And tell Hassan to keep bailing you out? No, I’m going to get to the bottom of this. I’m here to protect Hassan.”

His narrowed green eyes pierced her. His sharp words stung. She was the last person he’d help, if he had a choice.

He was angry. Why? He’d betrayed her family, jilted her and left her pregnant, with unattractive options, while he’d reinvented himself as this arrogant, world-class businessman. What did he have to be mad about? Unless he knew about Daniel … which he didn’t. At least, not yet.

Again her gaze strayed to the house, searching for Daniel.

Don’t panic. Be polite. Just send him on his way—fast. How hard could it be to get rid of a man who didn’t want to be here?

So much for her miracle. She was in worse trouble than before.

Caitlyn turned to Lisa. “Look, I need to talk to Luke. In private. You can work with Ramblin’ Man on your own until I get back. Do a little groundwork … like I showed you before he put his foot into the trailer.”

“Okay,” Lisa said reluctantly, glancing at Luke.

“Follow me,” Caitlyn said curtly as she unlatched a gate and headed out of the round pen. She was tired of Lisa hanging on to their every word, and there was the added danger that Lisa might blurt out something about Daniel.

Luke nodded casually to Lisa before loping after Caitlyn. “Look, if you need to get her stallion in the trailer before we talk, go ahead. I have a report from one of my CEOs that I need to read. Our meeting can wait a half hour. Lisa told me about the bees.”

He’d had time for a private chitchat with Lisa before Caitlyn had seen him. Her sudden burst of jealousy infuriated her.

Caitlyn stopped in the shadow of the barn and whirled to face him. “I’m canceling our meeting.”

“The hell you are. I flew all the way from London.”

“I don’t care if you flew in from another galaxy. You had no right to come here under false pretenses.”

“I promised Hassan I’d figure out a solution to your problems.”

“I don’t want your help. You’re too late, Luke Kilgore. Six years too late. I’ve made it this long without you. I can keep on making it without you.”

His green eyes flamed with surprise, and fresh suspicion. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

Her hand flew to her lips and she took a step backward. She’d almost said too much. Maybe she had said too much. Notching her chin higher, she held her ground. “Nothing,” she said. “I want you to leave! Now! You haven’t been welcome here for a very long time.”

“Is that so?” He glanced upward to the barn. “I remember a time when things were very different between us.”

She remembered, too. They’d made wild, sweet, unforgettable love in the hayloft. Ever since, he’d haunted her dreams. Even after he’d abandoned her, he’d cast a long shadow over her marriage.

“When you were a teenager, you followed me everywhere. I couldn’t load a bale of hay without finding you watching me,” he said. “You damn near threw yourself at me.”

“I was a young, stupid fool!” she cried, hating that she’d once made no secret of how intensely she’d felt about him.

“I was the fool. Hell, maybe I still am.” He grabbed her by the waist, pulled her close. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll figure out why Hassan really sent me here. I thought he wanted me to marry the woman I’m dating, Teresa. Then suddenly he sends me here. Why?”

She jerked free of his grip because she couldn’t concentrate when in his arms. “I thought he sent you to solve my money problems.”

“There’s another reason. I’m sure of it. You made him think we’re still connected.”

She shook her head in denial. “I didn’t.” Frantic to distract Luke, she said, “Teresa? Is she another of your gorgeous supermodels?”

“No. A countess.”

In spite of the fact that his love life was no concern of hers, Caitlyn was suddenly crushingly aware of how plain and unappealing she must seem in her dusty jeans. He’d become a mega-success while she was on the verge of bankruptcy.

Only by biting her tongue until she tasted the coppery flavor of blood was she able to remain silent. Too bad that the minute she quit biting it, she lost the battle to prove she could behave like a lady.

“If she’s so perfect, you’d be a fool not to propose to her!”

“She’s a little young. Nineteen. I was actually considering asking her to marry me, when Hassan started in on me about coming here. Ever since he met you at Keeneland, he’s asked questions about my life in Texas. He won’t say why, but I think he’s decided I’m still hung up on you. Well, I’m not! I don’t believe in rehashing or whining about the past, and I’ll do whatever it takes to convince him—even work with you on your finances.”

She caught a whiff of his musky scent mingling with minty cologne, and her feminine hormones flared. “So marry your precious Teresa and prove you and I are ancient history!”

His eyes slid over her. “You don’t look much like ancient history. You look as sassy as ever. So, no man’s tamed you yet? Not even your husband?”

“Leave him out of this! He’s dead, you know.”

“I’m sorry.” There was genuine regret in his deep tone. “This is a big place. In the middle of nowhere. It must get lonely out here.”

Unimaginably lonely, especially at night, when the wind blew and the eaves groaned and the coyotes howled as she lay in the dark, her head spinning with money worries.

She’d lain awake, alone, for too long. But she had a ranch to run, son to raise, hence little time for fun.

Too aware of the hunger that sparked in Luke’s green eyes and her own vulnerability, she took a step backward.

When he reached out and took her by the hand, she fought to pull it free. He held on tight, lifting her palm and inspecting it closely.

“You’ve been working hard. Too hard.” The sympathy in his voice surprised her and temporarily lessened her anger. Without thinking, she quit tugging and leaned closer to him.

What was she doing? Softening toward him? She should fight him harder, yank her hand free, but her emotions were escalating too fast to control. His tall, powerful body and his understanding intoxicated her. She’d done without a man’s passion for too long. Done without him. If only she’d had an inkling she’d see him today, she could have steeled herself.

Instead of trying to run, she froze. His beautiful green eyes—eyes she had so adored—stared straight into hers, igniting her soul, burning away the years and the hurt and the hatred, and melting her resistance.

He lifted her callused palm to his lips and kissed it. Only then did she jerk her hand from his. “You probably prefer women with soft hands.”

“I thought I did. These days I don’t meet many women who work outside with animals the way you do. When I left Texas, I dated lots of women. Until I saw you working with Ramblin’ Man, I thought I’d put you totally behind me.

“You were so good with him. I respect that. You looked so beautiful and wild. I wish I’d come back, at least once, to check on you. I suddenly realized I never … said goodbye.”

“No … you didn’t.” She caught herself. “This isn’t happening,” she whispered, feeling shattered by his admission, by the sweetness of his kiss on her poor battered hand.

“Something sure as hell is,” he muttered, sounding angry and lost. “I should have stood my ground and stayed in London.”

“You could always just go.”

“It’s too late now. The damage is done.” His eyes devoured hers. He stared straight into her soul, which had always belonged only to him. “I’ve seen you. I’ve touched you. And now I’m curious … about a lot of things.”

She didn’t understand the stillness that possessed her, held her. Was she in a trance? Clasped tightly against his tall, muscular body, his heat flooding her, she could barely think, barely breathe.

It was as if she were in a dream, as if she was again caught in the vortex of the youthful passion that had nearly destroyed her. For years she’d told herself she’d do it differently if she was ever faced with such temptation again.

Now, here he was.

Time to smarten up, Caitlyn.

But she lifted her head, parted her lips invitingly. Her nipples tightened into pert berries, throbbing where they brushed his shirt and felt his heat. Slowly he lowered his mouth to hers, nibbling her top lip as he’d done in the past, sucking on it, tasting it. Then she melted against him.

“Oh, God,” he muttered.

Instantly, nerves tingled in her tummy. Where he was concerned, she’d always been easy. Why did he have to make her feel so good, so fast?

Sighing, she wrapped her arms around his neck, threaded her fingers in his silky hair, stood on her tiptoes and kissed him right back. He was simply too delicious to resist.

“I’m going to hate you for this,” she whispered, her voice thick. “Most of all, I’m going to hate me.”

“I hear you, sweetheart.”

Then his tongue invaded her mouth, and sweet, urgent needs made her arch her body into his hardness. Like a mare showing heat, excitement blazed through her. She ached with needs she’d never felt for any other man, not even her husband.

She knew what she was doing was wrong. Luke had hurt her, rejected her, hurt Daniel without even knowing Daniel existed. She hated him for all the lost years since he’d left.

And yet there were other emotions alongside the hate. Kissing him now was like coming home after living for too many years with strangers. She couldn’t get enough. She wanted him to tear off her jeans, throw her over his shoulder and carry her into the barn. She wanted to open her legs and lie down in the hay with him again.

She wanted too much. She always had.

For another long second she was alone in the universe with him. Then Ramblin’ Man exploded in the trailer and Lisa yelled.

As if he suddenly realized where he was and what he was doing, Luke’s hands fell away. He jumped free of her with an abruptness that startled her.

Distantly, she heard Lisa soothing Ramblin’ Man in the round pen.

Luke’s eyes hardened, and he cursed low under his breath.

In a bewildered daze, she stared at him. More than anything, she had wanted to stay in his arms, to cling to his strength, to enjoy feeling like a woman for the first time in years.

But that was impossible now.

“Take your hands off me! Let me go!” Caitlyn whispered needlessly. The humiliating truth was that Luke had already moved away and was no longer touching her.

He was silent for what seemed an eternity.

What was he thinking? Did he have demons she knew nothing about?

“You kiss like a woman who hasn’t had any in six years,” he growled, glaring at her.

She stared down at the scuffed toe of her roper boots. As always, he was uncannily perceptive. The last thing she wanted him to suspect was how she’d longed for him all through the lonely years of her marriage.

“If you want it that bad, we’d better go inside,” he said. “Or do you still prefer the loft? Frankly, it doesn’t matter to me. All I want is to get you out of my system—permanently.”

Feeling ashamed of her reaction to him, she lashed out at him, too. “Ditto! I don’t want you touching me again—ever! I want you gone! That’s what I want.”

“You didn’t kiss me like a woman who wants me gone, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know what came over me, but believe me, I want you gone.”

“Well, while I figure out your finances and Hassan’s motives, I’ll figure out our chemistry, as well.”

“No! You’re going to forget that stupid kiss and go—now.”

“And if I go, how will you solve your money problems?”

“I’m too upset to think about that.”

“Well, you’d better think about it.”

“I can’t work with you.”

“You’d better adjust your attitude, because you don’t have a choice.”

Looking every bit as upset as she felt, he shoved a lock of thick black hair back from his brow. “Tell you what. I’ll leave … for tonight, so you can adjust to the idea of me being around. But I’ll be gone for one night only. Then I’m moving in until we get this mystery solved and your mess figured out. You’re fifty miles from town, and, after tonight, I don’t want to waste time commuting. You’ll need to make up a spare bedroom for me.”

“The hell you say! Do you think I would let you move into my house after what just happened? I don’t want you in this state!”

“Do you really want me to tell Hassan you won’t work with me?”

Of course not. And Luke knew it.

“Because I will,” he said. “If I tell him to pull the plug on you, he’ll do it.”

She shook her head, not wanting to believe that.

“The ranch and your horse operation will be history. I could convince him to sell everything at auction. You know what that means.”

Yes. She knew. There was such a weak market for her horses, that several would be euthanized or sold to meat packers.

“Hassan would never …”

“I think I know him better than you do. He wants to help you, but if you refuse his help you will leave him no choice but to make unpleasant decisions. Do you want to lose the ranch again, like your daddy did?” he continued. “Only, this time there won’t be a rich idiot like Robert Wakefield to marry and give it back to you.”

“I haven’t lost it yet, thank you very much! You’re only rich because of your connections to Hassan. Well, I know the real you, and maybe I don’t think you’re so great. My mother warned me that you were just like Bubba.”

Her mother had fired Luke because he was a thief. Cait hadn’t wanted to believe he’d stolen cash out of her father’s truck, but when Luke had never returned or contacted her to contradict her mother’s claim, the truth of his betrayal had seemed self-evident.

“So, you believed her?” Something flashed in his eyes. Was it pain? Or rage? “You’re wrong,” he said. “You don’t know me at all. You never did. And I didn’t know you, either, or I would never have been fool enough to mistake you for a sweet, innocent girl and fall in love with you.”

His startling admission flashed through her like lightning. He’d never admitted he loved her, and she wasn’t about to believe him now. Believing him would only soften her heart toward him.

Love. He didn’t know the meaning of the word.

“Leave,” she whispered.

Much to her surprise, he nodded. “Like I said … I’m going … for now. I intend to spend the afternoon talking to your accountant. I had hoped to take you with me, but it seems our new business arrangement is going to take some getting used to.”

He spun on his heel and strode toward the long black limo parked in front of her house.

If only this would be the last she’d ever see of him. But he’d be back tomorrow, and while he was in town there was no telling what people might tell him about Daniel, especially if he asked the right questions. There had been talk at the time of her marriage—talk that had never completely died.

Even if no one talked, if Luke moved in, he’d see Daniel on a daily basis. There was no way she could keep the truth a secret for long.

Better that she control how he found out.

She shut her eyes and sucked in a breath. She had to tell him the truth herself.

“Wait!” She ran after his tall, broad-shouldered figure.

He turned and regarded her so coldly, a chill traced down her spine. How would she ever find the courage to tell him he had a son? But she had to. Period.

“I’ll meet you in town … a little later … after I finish working with Ramblin’ Man,” she said. “What time’s your appointment?”

He told her.

She licked her lips and said she’d be there thirty minutes late. “After we get through talking with Bruce, there’s something I need to tell you. Something personal,” she whispered awkwardly, staring anywhere but at him. “It’s very important. Maybe we could have coffee at Jean’s Butterchurn. We can talk privately there.”

His eyes narrowed. “This isn’t going to be good news, is it?”

“I guess that will depend on how you take it,” she said. “It’s not altogether bad news, but it’s certainly not something I relish telling you.”

Then she shook herself and stood straighter. No matter how much she dreaded her hour of confession, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how afraid she was.

“Well, I’ve got a stallion to load,” she said briskly.

“Later, then.” He turned and headed to his limo.

Two

What the hell did she have to tell him that was so important?

It wasn’t the first time she’d fed him that line. On the day he’d left for good, nearly six years ago, she’d told him she had something important to tell him. But when he’d gone to meet her in their secret place, her mother had showed up instead. Her mother had fired him and set him straight about a lot of other things, too. Caitlin planned to marry someone else.

Luke had left, but later when he’d calmed down, he’d called Caitlyn. She’d never answered his calls, so he’d written. She’d never written back. Clearly, she’d wanted him out of her life but had lacked the courage to break up with him in person.

Who cared what she had to say today? Quit thinking about it, he told himself.

As if he could. Her brown eyes had been huge, fear-filled dark orbs, her shaky tone ominous. He’d wanted to reach out and pull her close. Thank goodness he hadn’t acted on that rash impulse. She didn’t deserve his kindness, nor his compassion. She never had.

They say you can never go home.

As he’d told Caitlyn, Luke damn sure wouldn’t have come here if he’d had a choice. He belonged in London, in his office, sitting at the helm of his many businesses.

But Hassan, to whom he owed everything, had prevailed.

For nearly six years, Luke Kilgore had avoided all things Texan, especially its women. He wanted no one with dark hair or fiery dark eyes that held a hint of vulnerability; he wanted no one with a soft drawl that sounded too much like a cat’s purr.

Now, sprawled in the back of his leased stretch limo on this fool’s errand, trying to pretend he was relaxed, Luke’s fingers clenched, wrinkling the latest of his CEO’s reports about Kommstarr’s disgruntled employees. Luke thrust it aside impatiently. Steve’s figures in defense of his out-of-control expenditures at Kommstarr made no sense. Luke didn’t like firing people any better than Steve did, but some cuts had to be made.

Hell, Luke had hardly been able to concentrate since he’d landed in San Antonio last night and felt the warmth, even in winter, of the vast, starlit Texas sky. So different from London’s gray, damp chill that all he’d been able to think about was her. In his hotel in downtown San Antonio he’d even dreamed of her.

Why was she scared?

Caitlyn Cooper Wakefield.

Now that he’d seen her, touched her, tasted her, she’d scrambled his brain just like she’d done in the past. How could she still get to him?

Six years ago she’d merely been Caitlyn Cooper. A respected rancher’s only daughter. She should have been off-limits to the motherless son of the county’s number one drunk, Bubba Kilgore. She would have been—if she’d obeyed her daddy or if Luke had had enough sense to keep his hands off her.

Luke compared the woman she was now to the slim girl she’d been back then. She’d been more cute than beautiful, with a freckled nose and wide, dark, innocent eyes that had sparkled with curiosity and laughter. And she’d laughed a lot. At least, in his company.

She hadn’t laughed today.

Back then she’d seemed to find him as exciting as he’d found her. From that first afternoon, when he’d stomped onto her daddy’s porch, desperate for a job, and she’d refused to invite him in, there had been vital chemistry between them.

She wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the women he dated now, and she didn’t dress as fashionably. She’d never cared about those things. Deep down he admired her because she wasn’t vain. Her face was narrow and angular, her thick black hair unruly. She hadn’t worn any makeup. Did it matter? There was something real, something genuine about her, and she sure as hell knew how to kiss.

He wished he could forget how seductively soft and warm her lips had felt beneath his own, forget how good she’d tasted, forget how hard he’d become even before he’d grabbed her this afternoon. Lacking polish, she was all fire and sass, making him burn.

Her hands had climbed his chest and wrapped around his neck as if she knew she belonged to him and no one else. When she’d leaned into him and pulled him close, he’d felt the heat of every female curve.

She’d been hotter than ever, maybe because she’d known exactly what she wanted. Or maybe she’d missed him … really missed him, as he’d missed her.

Like the kiss today, the memory of the long-ago evening when he’d made love to her still had the power to sear him. He hadn’t gone looking for trouble that evening, but it sure as hell found him.

He’d knocked on her door, looking for her daddy. He’d needed an advance against his wages since Bubba had drunk up the rent. She’d come to the door in tight shorts that skimmed her curvy bottom and said, “Maybe he’s in the barn.”

Only, she’d known he wasn’t when she’d followed Luke out there, closing the big, heavy doors behind her, calling to him across the dark in that raspy purr of hers. Then she’d undone her hair so that it tumbled around her shoulders. When she’d held out her arms and told him she loved him, he’d tried to talk some sense into her, even as his heart thundered.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, girl,” he’d warned.

“But I’ve always known how I feel,” she whispered, “ever since I first saw you.”

“You’re too young to know anything. Folks around here think I’m nothing.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to go my whole life wanting you like this … and never having had you.” She moved toward him. “Just once. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“No one can know,” he said.

“Nobody but us,” she’d whispered, sliding into his arms, her soft curves melting against his hard muscles.

She’d felt right, perfect.

“Just us,” he’d murmured, kissing her passionately.

For him, that time with her had been special. No other woman had ever come close to mattering so much. But then, no other woman had used her mother to throw him out like he was nothing. That had been equally hard to forget.

Had she just wanted to scratch an itch? Had she known then she would have to marry Wakefield if she wanted to get her precious ranch back? For years Luke had tormented himself with those questions.

She’d been the first girl he’d loved—and she’d be the last. She’d taught him love held a dark power. She’d taught him there were worse things than having a mean old man for a father. She’d taught him there were worse things than being born poor. She’d taken a hatchet to his heart and soul.

Swearing she loved him, she’d given herself to him on a bed of hay that night in the barn. Then, as soon as she could, she’d married Robert Wakefield, no doubt because he was the son of the banker who’d repossessed her family’s ranch.

But life had a way of being messy, and nothing had worked out as she’d planned. Robert had died. The ranch was in trouble again, and she was a struggling widow with a son.

A son. Funny that he hadn’t seen the kid. Not that he wanted to see Wakefield’s kid, who was living proof that she’d been with another man these past six years.

Some people were good at letting go. Luke envied them. Not that he didn’t go through the motions of a man who’d moved on. He owned a glamorous penthouse in London. Invitations to his parties were sought after. He dated the most beautiful women in Europe. Except for his friend Nico Romano, an Italian prince with an independent wife from Texas, his married male business associates said they envied Luke his carefree life.

Although he didn’t pick up the report again, Luke barely spared a glance out the tinted windows. He didn’t have to. The harsh brown scrubland was deeply engraved into his consciousness.

He’d accomplish this errand for Hassan as quickly as possible. Then he’d figure out once and for all what was behind Hassan’s obsessive interest in Caitlyn.

Not that he hadn’t tried to find out after Hassan had met her at Keeneland. When Luke hadn’t reacted to the Wakefield name, Hassan had pressed, asking him if he’d known Caitlyn Wakefield personally.

“Yes, I worked for her father.”

“And? Did you care for her?”

“It doesn’t matter. Her mother fired me. I left Texas and never saw any of them again. Why do you want to know?”

“You don’t talk about Texas much.”

“I’m not all that proud of who I was in Texas, or of how people treated me. It’s something I’ve tried to put behind me.”

He’d thought that was the end of it. Then Hassan had asked Caitlyn to help him with Sahara and had invited Luke to Deauville without telling him he’d hired Caitlyn as Sahara’s trainer. When Luke had seen her working with the stallion, he’d asked Hassan again why he was so interested in her. It would have been so much easier to use a world-class French trainer instead of bringing Caitlyn from the States.

Again, Hassan had been evasive, saying only that her advice had saved him from making a particularly disastrous purchase.

“Why did you invite me to dine with the two of you?”

Luke had asked. “It’s as if you are determined to get us together.”

“Sometimes we are rash in our youth. Sometimes it’s a mistake to lose touch with old friends.”

“Not in this case.”

“You could be wrong, my son.”

“Well, I won’t come for dinner if you insist on including her.”

“I do insist on her presence tonight.”

“Then I’ll pass.”

“You shall be missed, my son.”

Hassan’s stubborn behavior and fascination with Caitlyn made no sense, but Luke would get to the bottom of it. Then, hopefully, within the week, he’d be home with Teresa.

Luke saw a flash of movement out the window. A handsome blood bay horse, ridden by a small figure, sprang across the road right in front of the limo. The driver honked and hit the brakes too fast and too hard. The bay spooked and started bucking.

Tires squealing, the limo fishtailed in a swirl of gravel, sliding to a standstill in front of a prickly pear cactus. The pages of Steve’s report came loose and flew all over the limo’s plush interior.

The riderless red horse plunged wildly away from the veils of dust near the car, racing across the depopulated landscape. Then he stopped and circled back, staring at something on the ground. When the dust settled, Luke saw a small boy lying still and lifeless on the road.

Luke leaped out of the limo at the same moment as his driver.

“I didn’t see him, sir! Not until it was nearly too late!”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Luke assured the man.

“He came out of nowhere.”

“See to the car.” Luke strode toward the prostrate boy, who’d stirred at the sound of their voices.

A cowboy came running from the pasture. “The boy, he got away from me, señor.”

When the kid moaned, Luke felt some of his tension ease. The car hadn’t hit the boy. He’d just been bucked. Maybe he was okay. At the same age, Luke had ridden just as recklessly and had taken many a hard fall without doing permanent damage. In some ways, kids were tougher than adults.

Careless of the fine wool and silk blend of his custom-made suit, Luke knelt on the ground beside the boy.

The kid groaned and sat up, blinking at him suspiciously. The boy’s red-checked cowboy shirt was torn in two places. He raised a quick, thin hand to shade his tanned brow, squinting at the brilliant afternoon sun coming from behind Luke. The boy’s lips parted in a gap-toothed grin.

“You okay …?” Luke began, feeling a jolt of recognition.

“Sorry, mister. I …”

The kid had jet black hair and green eyes—green eyes that were the exact same shade as his own.

Luke’s gut twisted. Emerald eyes stared straight into his for an endless moment, during which Luke felt something near his heart shift.

Luke didn’t believe in coincidences, and Hassan placed an inordinate value on sons. Was this boy the answer? Did Hassan think …?

Had Hassan seen Caitlyn’s son and noticed the resemblance to Luke? Had Hassan met the boy at Keeneland?

Suddenly Luke couldn’t breathe. It was as if a band had wrapped around his chest and squeezed. In a weird panic—he never panicked—he fought to ignore dozens of questions that bombarded his stunned mind.

“I asked you if you’re okay?” Luke’s voice was hard and strange, unrecognizable. “Anything hurt? Broken? Are you dizzy?”

The kid felt real. The rest of his life—London, Teresa, his businesses, his unstoppable ambition, even Hassan—belonged to a dream that had nothing to do with his life, which was here.

“I’m fine, but I’ve got to catch that damn Demon before he bolts for the barn and I have to walk all the way back.”

“Don’t cuss.”

“Sorry!”

The kid didn’t look the least bit sorry as he sat up and got ready to spring to his feet.

Luke put a hand on his shoulder. “Not so fast. Why don’t you sit here a minute or two, catch your breath.”

“I said I’m okay,” the boy protested impatiently, looking defiant.

Just as Luke would have done at the same age.

“Right. And I say it’s too soon to be so sure. What’s your name?”

“Daniel.” His bottom lip curling, the kid stared at the ground.

“You got a last name?”

“‘Course I do! Wakefield.” There was fierce pride in his low tone, the kind of pride Luke had never felt for his biological father. When the kid tried unsuccessfully to shake loose from Luke’s iron grip, his bottom lip grew even more prominent.

“My name’s Luke Kilgore.”

“Glad to meet you, Mr. Kilgore,” Daniel said automatically.

“Glad to meet you, too.”

The boy on the ground didn’t look a thing like the blond, blue-eyed Wakefield bunch. Luke’s mind raced backward.

“How old are you, Daniel?” Luke asked slowly, as unwanted pressure pounded in his temples.

This couldn’t be happening. But it was. The angry kid looked just like he’d looked at the same age.

“Five.”

The number was a sucker punch in the gut.

Damn her. Was this why she had married Wakefield so quickly? Had she been pregnant? Had she slept with them both and hoped to pass off his baby as the wealthier Wakefield’s to get the ranch back? Had she despised the thought she might be carrying a Kilgore?

Luke clenched and unclenched his fists. When one speculated, one was usually wrong. What mattered now was finding out the truth.

“Does your mother know where you are?” Luke asked in a low, even tone. “That you were riding Demon bareback?”

The kid tensed and then lowered his eyes guiltily. “Sure. I was with Manuel, so it’s okay.”

“Right,” Luke said softly. “What do you say we catch Demon so the two of you can run along home, back to the ranch, so your mother won’t worry?”

“She’s not worrying. She’s too busy getting ready for her meeting with some guy.”

“That would be me.”

“Oh. Are you rich? Some car, huh? Long.” His eyes lit up. “Like a bus.”

“Not exactly. It’s called a limousine. Limo for short. What do you say we catch your horse?”

Luke and Daniel stood up together, and Manuel joined them. Demon’s ears shot forward and he whinnied. As Luke and the boy dusted themselves off, the blood bay gelding hung his head and licked his lips.

Good sign, Luke thought as Manuel slowly approached the horse.

The well-proportioned gelding didn’t run away. He stood docilely, allowing Manuel to retrieve the reins. Manuel swung himself onto the horse. Then Luke lifted Daniel up to the mounted man.

A shadow passed over Daniel’s face as he looked down. “I got you all dirty. You’re gonna tell Mom on me.”

“I’m not sure what I’ll say to her. But I’ll catch up to you two at the house,” Luke said, his tone hard as he dusted himself off again.

“Did you come to buy a horse or something?” the kid asked.

“Or something.”

“Good, ‘cause me and Mom could sure use the money.”

Money—had she married Wakefield because his daddy had been a banker and he’d owned Wild Horse Ranch? Or to give her baby a name?

When had she learned she was pregnant? Was her pregnancy the reason she hadn’t taken his calls or answered his letters?

“See you,” Daniel said, dismissing Luke casually.

Then the boy leaned forward with the ease of a natural rider. Soon boy, man and horse were cantering down the shoulder of the road while Luke stood still and silent, watching them.

Luke identified with that half-wild kid. Almost as if Luke was riding Demon himself, he felt the calves of those thin legs gripping the powerful animal. They were his legs, his knees squeezing tight, his lean body leaning forward, his hands lightly holding the reins. It was him urging the great creature faster, faster, until the ride became exhilarating.

“Breathe, Daniel. Don’t forget to breathe,” Luke whispered.

Then horse, boy and man were flying, airborne, united, and Luke’s own soul rushed after them. He hadn’t felt this alive in years.

What if the kid was his son?

No sooner had the trio melted into the haze of the horizon than a knot of longing formed in Luke’s throat. Should he have let Daniel back on the beast so soon? The boy had said he was fine, and he was with Manuel. But was the boy okay? What if he had a concussion?

Acute parental anxiety was new to him and made him feel foolish. The kid probably wasn’t even his. But whether he was or he wasn’t, Luke’s concern caused beads of sweat to break out on his brow.

Had Caitlyn wanted him gone so he wouldn’t find out about Daniel? Was that why she’d been afraid? If so, she was far more deceptive than he’d believed.

Luke wanted answers, and he wanted them now. Grabbing his cell, he punched in Hassan’s number. It was probably midnight Hassan’s time, but Luke didn’t give a damn.

As always, Hassan’s voice was warm with paternal interest in a way that Luke’s biological father’s never had been.

“Raffi. You had a safe journey? No problems?”

“Only one. I just met Daniel.”

There was a long silence before Hassan finally spoke. “I saw him at Keeneland. He looked so much like you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was right? He is yours, then?”

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