The Rancher and His Unexpected Daughter (16 page)

“Indeed she did,” he said. “Not the workings of it, of course. Just whether that was the only reason I was interested in you.”

“Oh, sweet heaven,” she murmured. “I'm sorry.”

He didn't seem to care about an apology. In fact, he seemed torn between exasperation and admiration for her child's audacity. She'd noticed that about him. Almost nothing threw Harlan Adams off stride. He was confident in a way that didn't require controlling other people. For all of the teasing she'd witnessed between him and his sons about his manipulation, she noticed that each of them had gone their own way, apparently with their father's blessing.

“I can't go away with you,” she finally said with some regret. “I won't leave Jenny, for one thing. For another, I can't afford the damage to my reputation. I'm having enough difficulty getting the people in town to trust a woman lawyer, who's part Comanche, to boot, without giving them anything more to speculate about.”

Harlan's expression promptly clouded over. “Are people still giving you a hard time? I thought that would be a thing of the past by now.”

“It's no worse than I expected,” she repeated emphatically, regretting taking that particular tack with him again. She knew better than to get his white knight tendencies stirred up.

“Who's bothering you?” he demanded, ignoring her low-key attempt to sidetrack him. “I'll have a word with them.”

“No. You will not! We've been all through this. I will not have you fighting my battles for me. We're talking about my career. I can handle it.”

He seemed ready and eager to rush off and slay a few dragons for her, but he finally backed down at her adamant tone. It was another thing she liked about him. He didn't just listen to her. He actually
heard
what she was saying.

Somewhere in a corner of her heart she was beginning to recognize that Harlan Adams wasn't like any other man she'd ever known. And all of those sturdy defenses that had served her so well the past few years were slowly but surely beginning to topple.

“Let's talk a little more about you and me, then,” he suggested, shifting gears so quickly it left her head reeling. “Where do you see us heading?”

Janet wished she had prepared herself better for this moment. She had known a conversation like this was inevitable. Harlan wasn't the kind of man to be satisfied for long by evasive answers and rushed, skittish departures. She had no idea what had triggered this particular confrontation at midmorning in her office, rather than some evening out at White Pines, but apparently he'd reached a decision about the future and intended to put his plan into motion.

“I don't know where we're heading,” she said, which was too close to the truth to suit her and too wishy-washy an answer to suit Harlan.

“You ever think about marrying again?” he asked.

She swallowed hard. “You mean, getting married to you?”

His gaze was riveted on her. “Or anyone,” he conceded grudgingly.

Her throat went dry. She couldn't have croaked out a reply if she'd had one handy.

“Something wrong?” he inquired. “Cat got your tongue?”

An odd note in his voice triggered an alarm somewhere deep inside her. “Is there some reason you're forcing this issue now?”

“I just thought it was time to get our cards on the table.” He studied her pointedly, then added, “All of our cards. Call the bet, so to speak.”

Panic flooded through her. What exactly did he know? Had he somehow figured out her intentions about the Comanche lands? She'd been doing legal research in all her spare time, but no one knew about that, she reassured herself.

No one, except Jenny. Surely her daughter wouldn't have said a word. She knew how important silence was, especially when there was every chance in the world that nothing would come of her plans.

She studied Harlan's face and tried to guess what was going on behind that enigmatic expression. She had a feeling whatever decision she reached about that was critical. If she jumped to the wrong conclusion, said the wrong thing, it could ruin everything.

“My life's an open book,” she said in what she hoped was an innocent-enough tone.

“Is it really?” he said, then shrugged. “I wasn't thinking so much of the past. I'm more concerned with the future.”

“Harlan, I'm just a single mom struggling from day to day to make ends meet.”

The comment sounded a little ingenuous even to her own ears. Harlan responded with a lift of his eyebrows, indicating that he wasn't fooled by it, either. Janet sighed.

“Okay, what do you want me to say?”

“How about the truth?” he said with a surprising edge in his voice. “Start to finish.”

The last suggested for the second time in a matter of minutes that he knew something, or thought he did. “Harlan, is there something specific on your mind?”

“I've told you what was on my mind. It's your head that remains a mystery.” He stood. “Why don't we go grab lunch and see if we can clarify a few things over a cold beer and some of Rosa's enchiladas?”

“The last time you and I went to Rosa's, I got the impression people were hanging on our every word and reporting it afterward. Why would you want to go there now?”

He shrugged. “I was hoping the beer would loosen your tongue.”

She stared at him in exasperation. “I'm being as honest here as I can be,” she protested.

“Darlin', if this is your idea of being candid, I'd trust you to keep my deepest, darkest secrets.” He stepped behind her and pulled back her chair. “Come on. Let's see if a beer will work any magic or not.”

“I hate beer.”

“Then you'll drink it down right quick, sort of like medicine,” he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes for the first time since he'd entered her office.

Janet still couldn't help thinking there were undercurrents here, deep ones, that she might never figure out. Something told her, though, that her future might depend on her trying.

* * *

A half dozen heads snapped up when Harlan escorted Janet through the door at Rosa's. Mule rolled his eyes in disgust.

“You two hooked up together again? Don't expect me to get involved in another poker game with the likes of you,” the mechanic warned, scowling at Janet.

“Don't worry,” Harlan informed him. “We're here for a little private conversation.”

He passed right by his regular table and urged Janet into a booth all the way in the back. It wasn't quite out of the sight of prying eyes, but it was the best he could come up with under the circumstances.

“That was a little rude, don't you think?” Janet said when they were seated, a half dozen pairs of eyes staring at them. “Just the kind of thing that will stir up more gossip.”

“Oh, will you stop fussing about gossip? Seems to me you have more important things to be fretting about.”

“Such as?”

He reached across the table and touched a finger to her lower lip, all the while keeping his gaze locked with hers. “Such as the way your skin burns when I touch you like this.”

He could feel her trembling even as she blinked hard and deliberately looked away. So, that much was real, he decided. She couldn't be faking a reaction like that, for devious purposes or otherwise. Which meant her reluctance to commit to anything more than the casual encounters they'd shared thus far was pure cussedness on her part.

Or perhaps a belated attack of ethical considerations, he amended. Maybe she'd decided she couldn't get any more involved with a man she intended to try to fleece out of his land. He supposed even would-be thieves had a code of honor they wouldn't breech.

He finally allowed his hand to drop away. “You trying to tell me that doesn't mean anything?” he chided.

“It doesn't,” she insisted stubbornly.

“I don't believe you.”

“Okay, I'm attracted to you,” she snapped. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Does it make your heart go pitty-pat? Is your oversize ego satisfied?”

He chuckled at her irritation. “As a matter of fact, yes on all counts.”

She lifted the menu and pointedly retreated behind it.

“You two planning on arguing all afternoon or were you thinking of ordering lunch?” Rosa inquired, not even trying to hide her amusement.

Harlan wondered with a sigh exactly how much she'd heard before she spoke up. He supposed whatever it was, his sons would know every word before nightfall. He wondered idly if Rosa's silence
could be bought. He glanced up and studied her speculatively.

“Rosa, darlin', what would it take to keep you from telling Maritza or any of your other myriad relatives in Los Piños that I was even in here today?” he asked.

Janet peeked around her menu, curiosity written all over her face. “You're trying to bribe Rosa to keep silent?” she demanded.

“You bet,” he muttered grimly. “Come on, Rosa, what will it take?”

The heavy-set Mexican woman shook her head as she regarded him with an expression of pity. “You cannot buy loyalty, old friend.”

“I can't seem to get it, either,” he grumbled. “Whatever you heard here today, just forget it, okay? That's not so much to ask, is it?”

Rosa's expression was perfectly bland. “But I heard nothing.”

Harlan sighed. “I'll bet.”

Not trusting her one whit, he still dropped the subject and asked Janet what she wanted. When he'd placed the order, he leaned back and focused once more on the woman seated opposite him.

The color in her cheeks was high. That was probably a sign of guilt, he decided. She'd wound her hair into some sort of prim knot on top of her head, but she'd done it in a way that made a man's fingers just itch to tug it free. He considered it another contradictory message in a whole sea of them he'd been getting lately.

As irritated and suspicious as he was, he wanted her with a hunger that stunned him. He'd been
comfortable in his marriage with Mary. He'd enjoyed the physical side of their relationship. There'd still been plenty of passion to it. More than a lot of people shared after being together more than thirty-five years, from what he'd heard.

But these feelings he was experiencing now were a far cry from that. His pulse quickened just at the prospect of seeing Janet. His body responded like some randy adolescent's at the most innocent touch. A kiss was enough to trigger a desire so thorough and overwhelming, it was a wonder he hadn't busted the zipper of every pair of jeans he owned.

None of those reactions had eased just because he now suspected her of trying to cheat him out of his ranch. Was that because on some level he couldn't believe that's what she meant to do? Was he thinking with his testosterone and not his head? He wouldn't be the first man to fall prey to that sort of foolishness.

He met her gaze and tried to read her intentions in her dark brown eyes, but in the restaurant's shadows they were more inscrutable than ever.

“Harlan, what's really bothering you?” she asked, sounding more worried about him than frightened for herself. She didn't sound like a woman with secrets she feared might have been uncovered.

“I told you, I'm trying to get a grasp on what the future holds,” he said, making the response enigmatic enough to cover anything from their relationship to the future of White Pines.

“Is that something you need to figure out today?” she asked, amusement lurking in her eyes. “Couldn't you just take it day by day as it comes, the way most of us mortals do?”

“I've never much liked surprises,” he admitted.

“So it's true, then,” she teased. “You do like to control everyone and everything around you. Your sons and daughters-in-law were right about that.”

The truth chafed, especially when it was being used to suit the purposes of someone who didn't want to reveal her own intentions. “What's wrong with wanting to shape your life, with wanting to take charge and make it the best it can be?”

“You miss out on the serendipities,” she observed.

“Like Jenny stealing my pickup, I suppose.”

She grinned. “It's true. If you didn't make it a habit to leave your keys in plain view, that wouldn't have happened. Maybe you're more open to risks than you know.”

“I don't mind a few risks, when I've had time to weigh the odds,” he countered pointedly. “For forty years those keys had never been a temptation to anyone in Los Piños. Now those are odds worth taking a risk on.”

He looked her straight in the eye. “You seem like a good risk to me, too.”

She didn't seem pleased by the observation. “You make me sound like a filly you might bet on in the fifth race at Belmont.”

He waved off the comparison. “That's just money. I'm talking about fate here, Janet. Yours and mine. You've been talking a lot about my willingness to take risks. What about you? How do you feel about serendipity?”

He watched her closely as she seemed to struggle with the question. Whatever internal war she was
waging struck him as a pretty good indication that she did have things to hide.

“I'm all for it,” she said eventually.

“Oh, really? Then why aren't you seizing my offer to take you away to some romantic spot for a few days?”

She scowled at him. “I explained that.”

“Not to my satisfaction.”

She stood then and threw down her napkin. “Not everything in this world has to meet your satisfaction, Harlan Adams. You'd do well to remember that.”

With that she turned and sashayed straight out of Rosa's, ignoring the gaping expressions of Mule and all the others following her departure. To his everlasting regret, Harlan's body turned rock-hard just watching her go.

When she was finally out of sight, he sighed. That woman's defiant streak was going to be the death of him yet. Worse, he didn't know a damn bit more about what was going on in her head now than he had before he'd forced this confrontation. Yep, it was just as he'd suspected. He was definitely losing his touch.