Tex grinned at Jake’s discomfort. “You’ll enjoy it, son. Don’t even try to deny it. You’ve been itching for a way to get under Meggie’s skin since the first time you laid eyes on her. Now’s your chance to do it. Better yet, you’ll have my blessing. That ought to satisfy you.”
It was evident that afternoon that the old coot had thoroughly enjoyed the bombshell he’d dropped and the fix he was putting Jake in. Now it was time for Jake to follow through.
But how the devil was he supposed to tell Meggie that her beloved grandfather had had a short-lived liaison with what could only be described as an unsuitable woman? Moreover, Jake was expected to explain that Tex had fathered a child who was now eight years old and had only recently come to live with him, abandoned on his doorstep just as carelessly and indifferently as Megan had once been.
Even worse than all that, though, he was going to have to break the news that Megan O’Rourke—hot-shot media executive—was now this child’s legal guardian and that she was expected to raise the girl on the very ranch she had fled a decade earlier, or she would lose her inheritance.
Even in death, Tex O’Rourke was destined to turn several lives upside down—Jake’s among them. Tex was probably laughing all the way to hell.
Megan had done everything but beg. Nothing she’d said, though, had dissuaded Mrs. Gomez from sending Jake Landers to pick her up at the airport.
“He will be there, niña. Look for him. You will recognize him, Sí?”
Recognize Jake? Oh, yes. She would be able to pick that low-down, conniving son of a gun out of a crowd of thousands. Her personal radar had been attuned to him practically from the second she’d hit puberty. It had taken several long and painful years for her to discover that her radar was not capable of exercising good judgment. When he’d stolen Tex’s cattle, she’d finally realized her mistake. Jake had been securely locked behind bars when she’d left for college. His name had never once been mentioned in all the years since.
So what on earth was he doing at the ranch now? she wondered. And why was he running errands for Mrs. Gomez? Had her grandfather hired him once he’d been released on parole, maybe given him an undeserved second chance? Tex wasn’t sentimental, so she doubted it. Jake had probably pulled some scam to get back in her grandfather’s good graces.
When the plane landed in Laramie, Megan was the first one off. It didn’t take more than a quick glance around the waiting area to spot Jake. He was propped against a railing, dressed in black from head to toe, the stereotypical western bad guy from his Stetson to his boots. Even his reflective sunglasses spelled trouble. At least they prevented her from getting a good look at his eyes. He’d always been able to make her weak kneed with a glance from those piercing blue eyes.
“I’m glad to see you’re on time,” Megan said briskly, handing him her baggage claim slips. “Four bags, all matching, Gucci.”
He grinned. “Of course, they would be.”
His amused tone, the wash of his deep baritone, raised goose bumps. The sarcasm irritated. “What is that supposed to mean?” she snapped, already breaking her vow to remain cool and impersonal for however long she had to put up with his company.
“Just an observation, Meggie. Don’t get your drawers in a knot.”
“My drawers are none of your concern.”
He waved the luggage claim slips under her nose.
“Apparently they are, unless you’re wearing the only ones you brought.” He tilted his head consideringly. “Or don’t you bother with them these days?”
“Your mind’s in the gutter as always, I see,” she said, casting an imperious look his way and sweeping past him. She all but raced for the baggage claim area. Ten seconds, maybe less—that was how long it had taken the man to not only rile her, but remind her that she’d once wanted him with a passion so powerful it had threatened to wreck her life.
There had been a time when she would have chosen Jake Landers over anything. She would have ditched her dreams, settled for an uncertain future, if only this man were a part of it. Nothing anyone said could persuade her that Jake was all wrong for her. Then the cattle had gone missing, Jake had gone to jail and, brokenhearted and disillusioned, Megan had left Wyoming.
There hadn’t been a single day since that she had looked back with regret. He’d betrayed her as well as her grandfather. It was something she wasn’t likely to forgive or forget.
She supposed a case could be made that she owed him. His crime had revealed her first significant error in judgment, forced her to reevaluate her priorities. She now had the career she’d been destined for, thanks to Jake’s betrayal. She socialized with men who were rich and powerful and, most important, honest. Thanks to lessons learned, she was slow and cautious before trusting anyone. People took advantage of her at their own peril, because she had a reputation for being ruthless with those who tried.
Megan stood by while Jake gathered her luggage, then followed him to the parking lot. Though it was only mid-October, the air had the sharp bite of winter in it. She shivered as it cut through her lightweight wool jacket.
“I hope you brought something heavier than that to wear,” Jake said, opening the door for her. “They’re predicting snow for later tonight or tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. I’ve been dressing myself for years now.”
“When was the last time you were in Wyoming when cold weather hit?”
“Not that long ago,” she responded evasively, aware that there was a guilty flush in her cheeks.
“Does Christmas four years ago ring any bells?”
The accuracy rankled. “What have you been doing, grilling Mrs. Gomez?”
“Didn’t have to. She likes to talk,” he said as he started the engine. He glanced her way. “You’re one of her favorite subjects.”
“I’ll have to speak to her about that. I’m not sure I like being a topic of discussion for her and one of the hands.”
Jake’s posture behind the wheel of the fancy sports utility vehicle had been surprisingly relaxed, but his shoulders tensed at her remark. He turned toward her and, for the first time, removed the glasses and seared her with eyes that sparked blue fire.
“Maybe we should get something straight right now, Meggie. I’m here as a favor to Mrs. Gomez and, in a way, to your grandfather. I don’t work at your grandfather’s ranch. In fact, if things turn out the way I hope they will, before too much longer I’ll own it.”
If he’d roped her and dragged her feetfirst through the mud, she wouldn’t have been any more stunned. “Never,” she said fiercely. The idea of turning the ranch over to a man who’d stolen from her grandfather was thoroughly repugnant.
Her vehement response, however, only seemed to amuse him. “You planning on sticking around to run it?”
The question threw her. She actually hadn’t considered what was to become of the ranch. From the moment she’d heard about Tex’s death, all she’d thought about was the huge, gaping hole in her life. Even at a distance, Tex O’Rourke had been very much with her. Never again would she hear the gruffly spoken, “I love you, girl,” with which he’d ended every conversation, no matter how contentious. The hated ranch hadn’t once entered her mind.
Of course, it would be hers now. She was Tex’s only living relative, unless Sarah were around somewhere. He would expect Megan to run his cattle empire, no doubt about it. It wouldn’t matter to him that she knew precious little about ranching, that she hated it or that her life was exactly the way she wanted it—in New York. Duty, a word that had been bandied about enough over the years, was what mattered to Tex.
Megan’s