KRISTI GOLD

The Rancher's Marriage Pact


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stipulation.” Even if he wasn’t banking on it.

      “That’s a big chance you’d be taking, Dallas,” Maria said. “If you’re wrong, he’ll put a stop to your dream of turning this place into Texas Extreme. Hell, he could even toss you and your brothers off the property, take over the houses you all built and legally he could do it.”

      He knew that all too well. He also knew Fort would probably turn the place into a subdivision just to spite them. “I don’t have a choice, Mom. I can’t find a proper wife in four days, nor do I even want to attempt it.”

      The other mother—every bit the Southern belle—suddenly breezed into the room and stood behind Maria. “I think Paris is quite proper and sophisticated, and a man of your financial means and social status needs that in a life partner. If you make an effort to get to know her, who knows what could happen in a few days? You might find yourself falling hopelessly in love for the first time in your life, sugar. Why, I met your father on a Saturday night and we were married two weeks later.”

      “And look how that turned out, Jenny,” Maria said. “Don’t give him reason not to give this a shot.”

      Over the past few years, Dallas had learned one important thing about Jenny Parks Calloway—she was a flighty romantic who spent most of her days with stars in her eyes. “That’s good in theory, Jen, but the chances of it happening are slim to none. And even if I wanted to pursue a relationship with Paris Reynolds, who’s to say she would agree? And even if she did agree to go out with me, do you really think she’d jump at the chance to marry me two days later? Get real.”

      “She sounded pretty desperate to us,” Jenny chimed in, then clamped her mouth closed after Maria shot her a nasty look over her shoulder.

      Dallas wasn’t all that shocked, but he was pretty pissed off over the intrusion. “You two were listening to our conversation?”

      “Just a little bit,” Jenny said sheepishly. “Your phone’s intercom was on.”

      He looked at the key pad, noted the button was depressed and then muttered a few mild oaths. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

      “We didn’t want to disturb you, mijo,” Maria said.

      Dallas didn’t buy that for a minute. “You wanted to eavesdrop. Regardless of how desperate Paris might be, I don’t see her as the kind of woman who’d agree to marry a stranger in exchange for a job. And I’m not the kind of man who would ask that of any woman.”

      Jenny put on her sweeter-than-honey expression. “Sugar, I love my son, but I also know Fort doesn’t deserve this place given how much grief he’s showered on me and Worth. Why don’t you just invite Paris to dinner tonight and see what happens?”

      He’d like to see what happened, but not in the way she was thinking. “I’m sure she’s already halfway to San Antonio by now and I’ve got a lot do before I fly to Houston in two days.”

      “You can take one night off,” Maria stated, a totally out-of-character comment.

      “Yes, you can, for the cause,” Jenny added. “Now go after her, sugar, and escort her back here. I can make you both my famous chateaubriand.”

      He saw one big problem with that, and a prime excuse to halt all the nonsense. “She’s a vegetarian.”

      Maria shook her head. “Yeah, we heard her say that, but it’s not normal. Not normal at all.”

      “We’ll work around it,” Jenny said. “I’ll make a wonderful assortment of spring vegetables. That will allow Dallas and Paris to get to know each other better in an intimate setting, not a crowded restaurant.”

      Dallas barked out a laugh. “Sure, while the two of you hang out in the next room, listening to every word we say.”

      Jenny raised her hand like she was about to take an oath. “I swear I will leave as soon as the food is served. Maria will, too. Right?”

      Maria stared up at Jenny. “Why do you need me there anyway?”

      “For moral support,” Jenny answered. “And you can make Dallas his usual T-bone, since that’s not my forte.”

      Maria sighed. “It’s easy. Remove the horns, slap it on the stove, make sure it’s not mooing and put it on the plate.”

      Jenny ignored Maria and took his hand. “Sugar, we’ll work out the dinner details. In the meantime, you just have to convince Paris to join you by telling her you want to discuss the particulars of the job, sort of like an interview. Then you can see what comes up after that.”

      He had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what would come up if he didn’t get a rein on his libido. Logical or not, he did like the plan, if for no other reason than to spend a little more time with Paris. As far as the mothers’ harebrained matrimony scheme was concerned, no way would that happen.

      After pushing away from the desk, he stood and propped his hat on his head. “All right, you two. Get to cooking and I’ll go get the girl.”

       Two

      Seated in her compact sedan, Paris stared at the private number displayed on her phone. Normally she would ignore the call, but some mysterious force propelled her to answer. “Hello?”

      “Where are you right now?”

      Overcome with sudden paranoia, she looked around the almost empty lot for some seedy no-account who’d magically come upon her cell number. “Who is this?”

      “Sorry. It’s Dallas Calloway. Are you back in San Antonio?”

      “No,” she said after she’d regained enough composure to speak. “I’m at a convenience store somewhere between Cotulla and Dilley. Or maybe I’ve already passed Dilley and missed it when I blinked.”

      “Right off the interstate?”

      “Yes. It’s a red-and-white building with some weird creature on the sign, but I can’t see the name from here.”

      “I know the place. Stay put. I’ll be there in a few.”

      Paris didn’t have the opportunity to say another word before the line went dead, leaving her with a laundry list of questions bombarding her brain. Why would he want to come after her? Had she left something important at the office? She glanced at the passenger seat to verify the presence of her briefcase, although only a few moments ago she’d just carried it into the store to pay for gas and buy a snack. Speaking of snacks...she yanked down the visor and pulled up the vanity mirror to check for the presence of chocolate, which she found smeared in the corner of her mouth.

      Paris scrambled around in the center console for a napkin, then swiped furiously over the offensive spot while cursing herself for being such a cliché. Have stress, grab candy. Preferably chocolate candy. Dark, light, didn’t matter. As long as it contained cocoa and no nuts.

      After reapplying her lipstick, and tightening the hair band securing the low twist at her nape, she waited for the enigmatic cowboy to arrive in a pickup, or possibly ride up on his trusty horse.

      The first assumption had been correct, she realized, when a large dual-wheeled black monstrosity of a truck pulled in the space to her right and its dashing driver left the cab.

      As Dallas approached the door, Paris powered down her window to find out what his surprise appearance was all about. “Did I forget something?” she asked as soon as he arrived.

      “Nope,” he said. “But I forgot to ask you something.”

      “What would that be, pray tell?”

      “If you’d care to stay for dinner.”

      Only moments ago, she’d consumed a large bar of candy and washed it down with cola so dinner wasn’t all that appealing. But maybe this was his