“I’ve been direct,” he replied quietly, amused. “I don’t think I’ve begun to take charge yet.”
“And you won’t in my office,” she replied just as quietly, giving him a faint smile, and again he experienced the silent clash of wills. “Please be seated. I’ll be with you in a moment.” She’d left the room and he’d walked to one of the leather chairs, thinking that he could tell the lady a bit about herself from this first encounter. He suspected no one was more of a take-charge type than she was….
Mike brought himself out of his reverie, knowing that from the first he’d gotten off on the wrong foot with the woman. Still, the evening might be interesting. He wondered if kissing her would be like kissing an ice sculpture…or was there a real woman there beneath the ice?
You’ll never know, he told himself silently.
And then Savannah returned and he rose to his feet, his recollections forgotten. “Sorry to take so long. I had to make a few calls,” she said. They left her office. As they walked through the hallway, a tall, blond, deeply tanned man stepped from his office with an attractive redheaded woman beside him.
“Troy, Liz, I’m taking a client to dinner,” Savannah said. “This is Colonel Remington. Mike, this is my partner, Troy Slocum, and one of our associates, Liz Fenton.”
Mike shook hands with them both. Troy Slocum, dressed in a dark blue suit and exuding success and self-confidence, said, “So you’re the fantastic Colonel Remington, the man John Frates thought so much of.”
“I don’t believe ‘fantastic’ fits, but that happens sometimes when you save someone’s life. I was only doing my job,” Mike replied, slightly wary of Troy. He wondered why, since he had never met the man before. But his instincts were seldom wrong.
“If you two will excuse us, Liz and I have a conference call,” Troy said abruptly.
Savannah and Mike said goodbye and turned away.
“Did I do something to him?” Mike asked.
“Pay no attention to Troy. Even though he has no reason to be, he’s jealous of other people’s success.”
“How many partners and associates?” Mike asked, dismissing the incident from his mind as they walked to the door.
“Troy is my only partner, and we have one other associate besides Liz—Nathan Williams.”
Enjoying watching Savannah, Mike followed her out and motioned toward the rental car he was driving.
“I’ll drive,” she said, jingling keys. “I know where we’re going.”
He wondered if she was going to rush ahead and hold the car door for him, but she didn’t. While he held her door, she slid inside, giving him another glimpse of shapely legs. He went around and slid into the passenger seat.
“Tell me about your life, Colonel,” she said after they had turned into the street.
“Mike, remember?”
“Mike, tell me about your life.”
“I recently got out of the military, so my life is changing. I suspect you already know some things about me.”
“Right. You’re thirty-six, born in Montana and went to the Air Force Academy before joining the military. You’re single, very smart. You have a younger brother, Sam, who lives in San Jose. You have another younger brother, Jake, who lives in West Texas. Your parents have moved to California. That’s about it. Your history leaves lots of blanks.”
“Not so many,” he said, turning to watch her drive. To the eye she was a gorgeous babe, but the moment she opened her mouth, the lawyer was revealed, and what was really beneath all that pretty packaging—an aggressive, tough, no-nonsense woman.
She drove fast and competently with her window open and the wind blowing her golden hair. She knew he was watching her, but it evidently didn’t disturb her. What was it between them that made the sparks fly? That made him feel repelled and attracted at the same time?
“So, how about you tell me about you, Savannah? I don’t know anything, except you’re the Frateses’ attorney.”
“I went to Stanford for my undergraduate degree, and then to Texas University for my law degree. I have three brothers and three sisters.”
“A big family.”
“I suppose we are,” she replied.
“And you’re the oldest?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Why did you guess oldest?”
“You’re a take-charge type.”
“Actually, I’m the fourth child. I’m was born in Stallion Pass.”
“The same place John Frates is from,” Mike said.
“That’s right. That’s how I knew him,” she said, growing quiet while she concentrated on driving. In minutes they parked and entered a restaurant with checkered tablecloths, candles on the tables and the smell of fresh-baked bread filling the air. “I should have asked—do you like Italian?”
“Of course,” he answered as he held her chair.
When they were seated and had given their dinner orders, Mike studied her. “Now, tell me more about you and Stallion Pass, Texas. You don’t seem like the small-town type.”
“I’m very much the small-town type. I love Stallion Pass. John Frates’s family businesses have really made Stallion Pass the town it is. Well, there are other businesses and families that contribute to it, but the Frateses did a lot. He had the oil company, Frates Oil, which he sold last year. He remained as CEO so they will simply replace him, and that wasn’t part of the will. He had the home that you received, the quarter-horse ranch and the cattle ranch—”
“Two ranches?”
She gave him a quizzical look. “Didn’t you listen as I read the will?”
“Actually, no,” Mike admitted. “After you announced I was inheriting a kid, I went into shock and didn’t hear anything more you read. I wouldn’t even think that kind of thing’s legal.”
“Of course it’s legal to appoint a guardian. John might not have told you about it, but I know he intended to.”
“Well, tell me what the other guys got, then. Did it occur to you that one of them might take little Jessie?”
“We’ll get to that,” she said, her cool, I’m-in-charge voice returning. “Jonah Whitewolf got the cattle ranch. He can do with it whatever he wants—sell it, keep it or lease it.”
“I’d guess Jonah will sell it. John Frates should have discussed all this with us in more detail.”
“I don’t think he dreamed that anything would happen to both him and his wife. Boone Devlin inherits the quarter-horse ranch—it’s famous nationwide for its horses.”
Mike shook his head. “Boone and a horse ranch. He grew up on a farm and wanted to get away from it. The flyboy is nuts about planes. He won’t leave his air-charter service. John Frates should have talked to all of us and talked to others who would have been better choices for these inheritances.”
“Once again, you’re making snap judgments.”
“Maybe, but I know these guys as well as I know myself. We knew Frates was worth a lot, but not this much.”
“The Frates family was enormously wealthy, and when John sold the oil company, he received a lot more.” She leaned forward, candlelight flickering in the depths of her eyes. For an instant, Mike was drowning in blue. His gaze lowered to her mouth, and he wondered if there was a woman beneath all that pushy, do-it-my-way