Her Torrid Temporary Marriage

He leaned forward another few inches, running his hand over his head. His fingers were long and blunt, the nails closely trimmed. She glanced at his face, and his dark eyes snagged and held her attention. “I know I’ve shocked you. I’m desperate and I’ve had time to think this over. You should give my proposal some thought. There are advantages to you. You have your grandmother to take care of. You’ve had a tough year, and your father’s illness ran up big bills. You’re still sending your sister Andrea to college—to medical school, from what I understand.”

Annoyed, Mattie frowned. “You’ve been snooping into my life,” she complained, only half thinking about what she was saying while his proposal spun in her mind. Josh Brand wanted her—Mattie Ryan, the Clayton County spinster—to marry him Impossible! Shock held her in a vacuum, and she had to force her attention to what he was saying.

“Everyone in these parts knows about each other’s business. This community is close. Everyone knows everyone. You know a lot about my life.”

“Maybe, but I don’t know you. We can’t marry. We’re strangers.”

“I’m not talking about a real marriage. If you want the physical side, I can do that, I suppose, but my heart is as numb as that desk.”

Agitated, she stood and went to the window to look at the rolling land that belonged to her. What Josh proposed was impossible. She couldn’t even imagine herself in any kind of marriage to him, even the most platomc relationship.

“Josh, I’m sorry, but I have my life.” She turned to face him. “I don’t know babies or how to be a wife. I’m flattered that you asked—”

“Mattie, I’ve been asking questions. Your dad mortgaged a large section of the Rocking R. You have some big debts.”

“Dammit! No one in this county can keep his mouth shut from the banker on down to—”

“Come over for dinner tonight,” Josh said abruptly, interrupting her. “Let’s get to know each other better.”

At a loss for words, she stared at him in silence.

“Just dinner, Mattie. Not scared of me, are you?”

“No! All right,” she answered, her heart fluttering. She felt lost. She had never dated seriously, never flirted or had casual relationships with boyfriends. She had worked with men all her life, but she had never had personal relationships with any man. Josh Brand was just the opposite. She could remember from school functions, football games and rodeos that Josh had had females fluttering around him since he was a little kid. And she remembered his beautiful, sophisticated wife.

“Good. I’ll come pick you up about seven.”

Elizabeth stirred and let out a wail. He turned and unbuckled her, then picked her up out of the carrier, talking softly to her. Mattie stared at him, watching the transformation of this man who was so masculine and tough. He cradled the baby, cooing to her as he jiggled her and tried to calm her. His voice gentled, his features softened; he looked incredibly appealing, no longer formidable. He fumbled in the diaper bag and produced a bottle, which the baby grasped and yanked into her mouth, her large brown eyes watching him constantly.

“There’s my girl,” he said, smoothing her hair. “Elizabeth, this is Mattie. Mattie, this is Elizabeth.”

“She’s sweet,” Mattie said perfunctorily. “I’ve never been around babies.”

“I hadn’t, either. They’ll put up with a lot,” he said without taking his gaze from his daughter.

“I really don’t think—”

He raised his head, his eyes focusing on Mattie with a look that made her pause. Without taking his gaze from her, he crossed the room, closing the distance between them. Her pulse jumped as she watched him stop only inches from her. He stood too close. She could detect the scent of aftershave, of talcum, of milk. The baby made soft sucking sounds while he held her bottle, and Mattie glanced at her. Elizabeth’s fingers were incredibly tiny and dainty, her dark lashes long and thick, and she had beautiful rosy skin. Mattie’s gaze lifted to meet Josh’s again, causing another leap in her pulse.

As he leaned closer, she noticed the faint stubble on his jaw, his thick black lashes. He shook his head. “Don’t act in haste,” he said in a low voice. “Come have dinner and we’ll talk some more. Think about what you have to gain...and what you have to lose.”

“I think you have the most to lose. You may fall in love again.”

His eyes were direct and unblinking as he shook his head. “Never again. I adored Lisa. With those marriage-hungry nannies, I felt as if a noose were closing around my neck. But I need someone for Elizabeth and if you agree to do this for me and for her, I’ll do right by you.”

“That’s easy to say now.”

“Think about what you want in a prenuptial agreement. You ask for high stakes, and you’ll see how sincere I am and how much I intend to stand by what I promise.” He stared at her a moment in silence while her heart pounded like galloping hoofbeats. “I’ll see you at seven.”

He turned, put on his hat and was halfway to the door before she realized it. As she looked at his broad shoulders, she felt dazed. He held the carrier and baby bag in one hand, the baby in the other.

“I’ll help carry something,” she said, catching up with him and taking the carrier and bag.

They walked outside to his pickup where he turned to take the carrier from her. His fingers brushed hers, and she felt an electric tingle from the contact. Why was she so aware of him? She watched him set the carrier on the back seat of the truck.

“Can you hold her a minute?” he asked, thrusting the baby into her arms without waiting for her answer. The moment the bottle left Elizabeth’s mouth, she screwed up her face and began to protest with a loud wail. He gave the baby her bottle, and her tiny hands closed on iL Mattie looked at the small, warm bundle in her arms. Two little dark eyes seemed to stare right through her with the same directness as her father’s.

When she looked at the baby, Mattie was frightened and uncertain. She couldn’t be responsible for this tiny person. Panic gripped her, and her gaze lifted from the infant to her father. Josh leaned into the car, his jeans pulling over his muscled legs while he buckled the carrier into the pickup.

Turning, he said, “Come here, Li’l Bit,” his usual nononsense bass voice changing again to a gentleness that made Mattie melt. He took the baby from Mattie. “I’ll pick you up tonight.”

After he strapped Elizabeth in securely, he strode around the pickup, climbed behind the wheel and was gone, roaring down the road, sending dust spiraling up behind the pickup while she stared in shock.

Marriage. Josh Brand wanted her to marry him. It was unbelievable, impossible, amazing. And at one time in her life, she would have been ecstatic. Now she was older and more realistic. What the man needed to do was continue advertising for nannies, hire a nice, reliable one and then wait. Later, he would marry a woman he truly loved.

She shook her head, catching her braid and pulling it across her shoulder to brush the ends of it with her fingers. Turning around, her gaze swept the ranch: the long, low barn, the corral, the bunkhouse, the other outbuildings, but her thoughts were on the man driving away.

She had a date with Josh Brand for dinner. She felt as if life had turned topsy-turvy. Why would he ask her to many him? I need a mother for Elizabeth, someone who is intelligent and strong and kind.... The words dazzled her until she faced reality. Josh Brand had never paid the least bit of attention to her before. He wanted a glorified nanny to be in charge of the real nanny. Mattie clamped her jaw closed and strode back into the house. She couldn’t do that, but she had agreed to the dinner, so there was no escaping the evening with him. Now she had to worry about what to wear.

And when she told Gran what she was doing, all hell would break loose. Gran thought she should be married and was constantly trying to get her to socialize more in town. As if it would do her any good. She had grown up in this county, and none of the men had ever wanted to date her. Until now. She shook her head and entered the house, going directly to the closet in her bedroom.

At six forty-five Mattie paced the forty-foot living room. Usually the house was a haven of comfort with its familiar cowhide and maple furniture, but tonight her stomach churned.

“Mattie, for corn’s sake, sit down!” Irma Ryan stared at her granddaughter. “And I think you should take your hair out of that infernal braid and wear a dress.”

“I feel more comfortable in jeans,” Mattie remarked, locking her fingers together nervously, looking at her diminutive, white-haired grandmother and idly wondering why all the other females in the Ryan family were under five and a half feet tall. Irma was dwarfed by the old maple rocking chair. Her feet, clad in sneakers, were propped on a lower rung, the white toes peeping out beneath the hem of jeans.

“I don’t think you should be ready and waiting. Let Josh come sit and talk with me awhile.”

“All he wants to do is talk business. He’s interested in acquiring part of the ranch.”

“Nonsense! He wouldn’t ask you to dinner at his house if all he wanted was to try to buy some land. Mattie, you should listen to me.”

Mattie’s conscience hurt. She couldn’t recall ever lying to Gran in her life, but she also couldn’t bring herself to tell Gran that Josh Brand had asked her to marry him. Gran would be planning the wedding down to the last detail.

“I hear a car,” Mattie said, going to the front window to shift a lace curtain and look at the black pickup coming up the road toward the house. Why did she feel destiny was driving full tilt to her door?

“Go back to your room, and Lottie will let him in. That’s her job.”

In spite of her nervousness, Mattie laughed. “You and Lottie both want to look him over.”

“Of course we do,” Gran admitted. “Lottie’s worked for us since you were a baby. She’s like a mother to you, and she’d like to see the man who wants to take you out.”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“Mattie, don’t you dare leave without bringing him in here to see me. Now humor your granny and go to your room and let me talk to him. I haven’t really had ten words with a good-looking young man in years.”

“And you don’t need to start tonight.”

“Please,” Irma said, gazing through her bifocals with wide blue eyes. “I don’t get to do many things I enjoy.”

Mattie threw up her hands and left the room. Her grandmother got to do plenty that she enjoyed, from chewing tobacco to playing poker in town on Saturday afternoons with a bunch of old codgers.

When the bell chimed, Lottie Needham hurried from the kitchen. Her gray hair was a cap of curls around a rosy face, and she smiled at Mattie. “I know Miz Ryan wants to meet your beau.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lottie, he’s not my beau!” Mattie paused and bit her lip, waving her hand at the short, stout woman who was like part of the family. “Go ahead and get the door. I’ll be in my room.”

Mattie hurried upstairs and down the hall, going to the window to look down at the black pickup. She turned, glancing again in the mirror. She had scrubbed and washed her hair and tried on half a dozen different outfits, deciding in exasperation to dress like she would any other night. She wore jeans, a blue shirt and had braided her hair. And she had only the tiniest bit more makeup than she always wore. How could she spend the evening with Josh? She didn’t know how to make small talk, and all he wanted was a business deal that she could not agree to. Wiping her damp palms against her jeans, she went downstairs.

Halfway down the stairs she heard Josh’s voice and his laughter. Now what had Gran said to make him laugh? Then Gran burst out laughing.

“You two sound as if you are enjoying yourselves,” Mattie said, entering the room. “Evening, Josh.”

He unfolded his long frame from the sofa and stood, his dark gaze sweeping over her in a manner that made her skin tingle. He had changed clothes since earlier m the day. As she expected, he was in jeans. He wore a navy shirt with the sleeves turned back. His long black hair was tied behind his head with a bit of rawhide. He was darkly handsome; a devil in blue jeans trying to buy her soul. In spite of that, her pulse jumped at the sight of him. Whether she liked it or not, he stirred a primitive reaction in her. At the same time, her awareness of him made her doubly nervous in his presence.

“Hi, Mattie,” he said quietly. “If you’re ready, we’ll be going. Irma, I enjoyed talking to you.”

“You come again,” Gran said happily.

“I intend to,” he answered with equal cheer. He took Mattie’s arm lightly as they left the room. Their boots scraped the polished hardwood floor, and as they passed the floor-to-ceiling gilt-framed mirror she glanced at their image, shocked again at how tall he was. She usually towered over men or was at least their height. But not Josh. His size and strength were impressive.

“You look pretty,” he said quietly, and she glanced up.

“Thank you,” she answered, without believing he really meant what he’d said.

They left the house and crossed the porch, descending the steps to his pickup where he opened the door for her. She reached for the handle at the same moment, and her hand closed over his.

“Sorry,” she said, flushing, wondering if he had any idea how seldom she had been out with a man. She climbed inside the pickup, then watched him go around and slide behind the wheel.

“Your grandmother is interesting. I can’t remember ever talking to her much before.”

“She’s a character. She’s had two heart attacks, and it’s still a shock to realize that she outlived my dad. I always thought I would have him forever.”

“Yeah, I know,” Josh answered gruffly, and she realized she had struck a nerve and he was probably thinking about his wife.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of your loss.”

“That’s all right. I have to live with it.”

“Where’s Elizabeth?”

“Rosalie, my cook, is watching her tonight.”

“Why don’t you get Rosalie to be a nanny as well as a cook?”

“How I wish! Rosalie is getting up in years, and her kids bought her a condo in Arizona. She’s leaving next month.”

Mattie felt awkward and uncomfortable and too aware of the man beside her. Her gaze ran over the rugged planes of his face, his strong cheekbones, his mouth that was faintly chapped, yet as appealing as the rest of him. He exuded an aura of self-confidence that increased her nervousness. Afraid he would catch her staring, she turned to look at the land flashing past them, the stands of oaks on the hillsides, the fresh arrival of spring wildflowers. “We got a lot of rain last week,” she remarked.

“Glad to have it. You’ve got good water on your land with Cotton Creek.”

“Yes, thank heaven,” she replied, knowing she had better water resources than he did and wondering if that was a large part of what prompted his proposal.

“Josh, this really is impossible,” she blurted nervously. The man tied her in knots. He was appealing, sexy, popular with everyone in the county—she didn’t belong with him.

“What’s impossible?” he asked easily. “My proposal?”

“Yes. I don’t think you’ve given enough thought to it.” She fished in her pocket and withdrew a slip of paper. “I sat down and thought of the women I know who live here and can marry you.”

He laughed, a throaty chuckle that sent tingles spiraling through her. “Did you now! How do you know what kind of woman I would like to marry?”

“You proposed to me—and I’m all but a stranger—so you’re obviously not particular.”

“I’m damned particular. I gave this a lot of thought already,” he said, shooting her a glance that made her toes curl. Momentarily she forgot her list as she thought about Josh Brand spending hours thinking about her and considering her as marriage material. Even if it was a loveless marriage, it still involved getting emotionally entangled. The idea of emotional entanglement with the man beside her took her breath away.

“Well, go ahead. Who’s on your list?” he asked with amusement.

She straightened the paper. “How about Reba Talmadge?”

He shook his head. “Too unreliable.”

“Reba?” Reba lived in Latimer and was the town librarian in Spencer, a neighboring town. As far as Mattie knew, Reba was practical and reliable and rather attractive. And she had just broken an engagement.

“All right, how about Candice Webster?”

“She was the first nanny. And no. Definitely not.”

Biting her lip, Mattie glanced at him. He gave her one quick glance in return, and she looked into his eyes filled with determmation. When he returned his gaze to the road, she noticed a muscle flexing in his jaw.

“Alyssa Hagen?”

“Never. Woman never stops talking and has a laugh that would drive a man to flight.”

Worried, Mattie ran her gaze over her list. The man was damned particular! “Barb Crandall?”

He reached over and withdrew the list from Mattie’s fingers, balled it up and tossed it into a litter bag on the dash. “Thanks, anyway. I think I’ve made the best possible choice. And I’ve considered every female I’ve ever known.”

Mattie bit her lip again and turned to look at the land. She was flattered, astonished, wondering if she would ever get over her amazement. And she was uneasy. She couldn’t possibly marry Josh Brand. The notion was totally unthinkable. The man could have almost any woman he wanted. Why would he want her?

They rode in silence while her thoughts seethed. She should just outright ask him, but it was difficult. She couldn’t even deal with him on this introductory level. It was beyond imagination to think about marrying him and dealing with him daily about everything in her life. And he disturbed her. She was intensely aware of him. He was too attractive, too incredibly masculine. She rubbed her damp palms together nervously.

“Relax, Mattie,” he said quietly.

“It’s difficult under the circumstances.”

“We’re just going to a simple dinner and discuss our futures.”

She didn’t reply and watched the sun slanting in the sky, shadows growing slightly longer, until he turned onto his ranch road. Too soon to suit her, his sprawling ranch house came into view. She couldn’t recall having seen his home before. The house was long. The overhang of the sloping roof covered a porch that circled the house. Pots of flowers hung from the roof and more pots with bright red hibiscus stood on the porch. A hummingbird darted among the flowers. Beyond the house were various structures: a barn twice the size of hers, a corral, a bunkhouse, a shop, another building that might be an office, two small buildings. She saw a tractor in a shed and another pickup parked in front of the three-stall garage. The buildings were in good shape, and the place appeared thriving and welcoming. Josh parked the truck and came around to open the door.

“C’mon. I’ll show you the house. Rosalie took Elizabeth to her house. It’s just down that road a ways,” he said, pointing to a road that angled off from the house and disappeared between stands of oaks.

Nervous, Mattie climbed out of the pickup and followed him across the porch. He opened the back door and waited while she entered the kitchen.

“How about a beer? Wine? Iced tea?”

“Tea sounds good,” she said as she looked around at the oak cabinets and terrazzo floor. The room was spacious and inviting, the aroma of hot bread still hovering in the air. On the tile counter she saw two pans with golden loaves swelling over the sides.

He handed her a glass of iced tea. “Sugar or lemon?”

“No, thanks.”

He set his cold beer on the kitchen table and moved closer, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders. The warmth of his hands kindled a responding warmth in her. She was intensely aware of him, suspecting he thought nothing of the casual touch of his hands on her or his standing so close to her.

“Mattie, relax. You look as if I’m the devil and I’ve asked you to sell your soul.”

“That’s sort of how I see you. Your proposal shocked me, and I think you should find a nanny and forget a loveless marriage,” she said, noticing his thick lashes, his sculpted lips. When he moved close to her, his presence made her more nervous than ever.

“Come look at my house,” he urged in a coaxing voice that she couldn’t resist.

She nodded, and he moved away. Even though the kitchen was spacious, he dominated it with his height and broad shoulders and his raw masculinity. Her gaze slid down his back to his slim hips, and her mouth went dry.

He turned to slant her a curious glance. “Are you with me?”

“Yes!” Burning with embarrassment because he had caught her studying his hips, she caught up and walked beside him into a large, comfortable family room, in forest green and brown decor, with a stone fireplace. A game table stood in one corner and an antique rifle was mounted above the fireplace. The furniture was large, as if it had been selected for a tall man. She crossed the room to a wall paneled in knotty pine and covered with pictures.

“That’s the rogues’ gallery,” Josh remarked, coming to stand beside her, his shoulder lightly brushing hers. “Here’s great-grandpa Daniel Brand.”

“Who tried to kill my great-grandfather,” she said with amusement as she moved closer to look at the faded picture of a bearded man with a beak of a nose above a thick mustache.

“I think it was the other way around,” Josh replied lightly, and she laughed.

“At least by the time our fathers took over the ranches, they weren’t shooting at each other. They just didn’t speak unless they had to.”

“That’s Daniel’s rifle mounted over the fireplace. He made that table,” Josh said, pointing to a sturdy, simple table that had nicks in the legs from hard use. He pointed to a picture of horses on the opposite wall. “My grandfather hung that picture. It was his favorite, so we’ve always kept it. The little rocker was my grandmother’s chair.”

“Your roots go back like my family’s.” Mattie moved along the row of pictures, examining another faded photograph of a dark-skinned, black-haired woman and Daniel Brand.

“That was Daniel’s wife, Little Star. She was full-blood Kiowa.”

“She’s a beautiful woman.”

“We have more Kiowa blood. Here’s the next generation. Grandpa Isaac was a half-breed. He married Summer Setaingia, another full-blood—here’s her picture,” Josh said, pointing to another husband-wife portrait that bore a family resemblance to Josh in their dark eyes and hair and prominent cheekbones. Mattie gazed at the pictures, but she was more aware of the tall man standing so close beside her, his body lightly touching hers. She walked along, gazing at pictures until she came to one that featured a small boy with brown eyes, flowing black hair and a cocky grin. She knew it had to be Josh. “This is you.”

“Yeah. Mom put these up. I’ve never bothered changing them, nor did Lisa.”

“This is the house you grew up in?”

“Yes. This room and the first two bedrooms are the original house that my great-grandpa Daniel built. Dad redid the kitchen and added the other rooms. After Dad died, Mom remarried and moved to Chicago. When Lisa and I married, we moved in here. Lisa had the house remodeled, but she didn’t change much in this room or the dining room. The dining room table was my grandfather’s. And there are a few old tables here that belonged to great-grandpa Daniel.”

“Sounds like our house.”

They moved to an adjoining formal living room that had an off-white carpet and the same forest green color in the upholstered furniture. “Lisa did this room over. I’m hardly ever in it,” he said in a flat voice, and Mattie realized that every time he mentioned his wife, he sounded pained.

She followed him into a dining room that held a long mahogany table with twelve chairs. A silver tea service gleamed on the polished sideboard. “You have a nice home.”

“Thanks. The bedrooms are down the hall,” he said casually. “Want to sit outside with me while I grill steaks?”