The Reluctant Texas Rancher (Harlequin American Romance) (8 page)

“Unless they decide to sue anyway and go straight to depositions. In either case,” Liz promised, reassuring Travis with a frank look, “I plan to be ready for whatever they throw at us next.” She forked up more stew with gusto. “Which means you and I have a lot of prep work to do, too.”

Travis drummed his fingers on the table. “Such as…?”

Liz tried not to think about what those same hands had done to her earlier in the day. “I need background information,” she said bluntly. “Everything and anything opposing counsel might ask you about.”

T
HE
LAST
THING
T
RAVIS
wanted to talk to Liz about was the trouble that had ended his employment with Haverty, Brockman & Roberts.

“We’ve already put in two very full days.” He stood and carried his plate to the sink. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

“I guess that depends.” She tilted her head, considering. “Just how badly do you want your law license reinstated?”

Travis put his dishes in the dishwasher. “A week ago, I would have said it was the most important thing on earth to me.” He went back to finish clearing the table.

“And now?” she asked softly.

“I keep asking myself if it’s going to be worth it to have my dirty laundry dragged out for everyone to see.” He braced a hip against the counter. “There are other ways I can use my education.”

Liz pressed her lips together. “That would be a terrible shame, because you are one fine lawyer.”

The conviction in her voice surprised him. “How do you know?” he challenged.

She looked at him in a way that made all rational thinking cease. “I looked up some of your cases last night, read some of your briefs,” she admitted. “Pretty amazing stuff for an associate.”

You’re pretty amazing.
Shrugging, he explained the reason for his expertise in a field many attorneys found daunting. “I spent time with my grandpa Anderson, both in the oil patch and at Anderson Oil refineries, when I was a kid. He made sure that I understood how important it was to know the industry if I wanted to be a successful oil and gas attorney.”

“Is that why Olympia Herndon wanted you to represent her?” Liz asked curiously, reaching for the coffee. “Because of your background?”

Travis fitted a paper filter into the plastic funnel and snapped it into the machine. He stepped back to give Liz room. “She knew my grandfather was Hargett Anderson.”

Liz opened the can and spooned coffee into the filter. “And I’m guessing so did the law firm that hired you.”

The fragrance of French roast coffee rose up between them. Travis nodded in answer to her question, adding, “HB&R wanted me to bring Anderson Oil business into the firm, but my grandfather has his own in-house legal team.”

Liz’s lower lip twisted pensively. “Did you give them any illusions about what your family connections might yield, in terms of clients? Or in any way infer that you could convince Hargett to jettison his in-house team and go with you and HB&R?”

“No.” Travis added the proper amount of water to the coffeemaker and stood back as Liz switched it on. “I made it clear that was not going to be the case, that even if it was offered I would not accept any nepotism.”

Liz rummaged around in the fridge, finally emerging with the remains of a pecan pie and a can of whipped cream. She got down a couple plates. “Did they believe you?”

Travis reached for the silverware. “In the final analysis? Probably not. Which is why I had to go all-out to land other big clients, without drawing on the accomplishments of other family members.”

Liz cut two generous slices and put them on the plates. “And were you successful at that?”

“I was getting there.” Travis watched as she shook the can and squirted swirls of cream onto each piece.

He caught her hand in his, scooped off a glob of cream and lifted it to her mouth. “And I thought we weren’t going to talk business tonight.”

“You said that.” She caught her breath as he smeared whipped cream across her lower lip. “I never agreed.”

Travis thought about what she would look like covered with the decadent topping. He caught her by the waist and tugged her against him. Lowered his head. “Maybe it’s time you did.”

With a hint of mischief glimmering in her green eyes, Liz licked the cream off her lip.

He grinned, nodding toward the aerosol can. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

She flushed, her nipples pressing against her shirt. “This is a bad idea,” she told him with a moan. But she didn’t move away.

Travis took that as an invitation. He caught her chin in his hand, threaded his other through her hair. “I’ve been thinking about it all day,” he murmured. “Wishing I could turn back the clock. Wishing we had never broken up. Wishing I could kiss you, just one more time.”

So he did.

Chapter Eight

Travis had often wondered, in retrospect, if the emotional punch of his teenage romance with Liz had been exaggerated.

He found his memories did not do Liz justice. Making out with her was an amazing experience.

Everywhere he touched her she was strong and warm and feminine. Her kisses were evocative and intimate, but there was eroticism to the passion now, a woman’s knowledge and desire that had not been there before.

This was no wary virgin he was kissing now, but an adult who had survived life’s disappointments and triumphed over every professional challenge, with her confidence about the future intact.

Damned if her enthusiasm wasn’t catching....

A
S
RIBBONS
OF
DESIRE
unfurled inside her, a wave of longing swept through Liz. She curled into Travis’s embrace and deepened their kiss, her limbs heavy and weak, her skin tingling.

She’d never felt like this. Never felt as wanted as she did when she was in Travis’s arms. She’d never had the lusty, physical side of her take control, or dreamed that the two of them might actually get another chance.

Unable to help herself, she ran her fingers through his hair and rose up on tiptoe. Pressed her breasts against the muscles of his chest, and heard him groan. Damn, but she’d missed him.

He grasped her closer still and plundered her mouth, dominating and persuasive.

Liz clutched his shoulders, wanting nothing more than to go to bed with him. But she couldn’t go forward without looking back in time first. She couldn’t be that reckless again. Not without getting hurt.

She moaned, this time in protest, and pushed him away.

As much as she wanted him—and she did—she couldn’t let herself be sucked back into the emotional whirlwind of a tryst with him unless she knew what had really happened years ago. And whether it would happen again.

Breathlessly, she stepped back and forced herself to stare into his charcoal-gray eyes. “I want the truth, Travis,” she said. “Why did you really break up with me?”

Travis looked surprised, as if that was the last thing he’d imagined her asking. She absorbed his deepening frown.

“I know what you said at the time,” Liz continued, wishing she hadn’t blurted out the question that had nagged at her forever, or let herself be so vulnerable again.

She swallowed and pushed on. “That I was still in high school and you were going off to college. Our age difference was too great. We weren’t what each other needed.”

But you were what I wanted—and needed,
she thought plaintively.

Travis stepped into her space. “There was also the fact we were both so busy we hardly ever saw each other.”

His goals again.

And hers.

“Would it have made a difference if I had been more open to…you know…”

“Climbing into the back of a car with me?”

Liz flushed.

“I was eighteen. My hormones were raging. But…” he sighed “…I was also smart enough to know that in that regard we were definitely not in the same place.”

“So you left.”

“Because we were way too young to be thinking about getting serious.” His smile came, sure and slow. “And sleeping with you then, Liz, even working up to it, however incrementally, would have meant getting very serious.”

And that, she thought, would have meant they would have indulged in a lot more than simply kissing good-night at the end of their dates.

All of a sudden the kitchen felt hot and close.

Liz ducked out the back door, into the spring night. The cool April air was damp and scented with the smells of fresh cut grass, and the flowers her great-grandmother had planted in the half barrels next to the house.

Liz stared out at the pasture and the clouds moving rapidly overhead.

It was going to rain. She could feel it in the air, and the cattle knew it, too. The cows were already nudging their calves toward the sheltering trees along the fence.

Liz folded her arms in front of her and held her chin high when Travis joined her. “I admit I wasn’t ready for more....”
Wasn’t ready to completely risk my heart. Not then. Not now.

He grasped her hips and pulled her close, and she swallowed. “So when you sat me down to have that talk, and broke up with me, I just accepted it as the logical thing to do—even though my gut told me there was more to your decision than what you said. But now…” she dropped her forehead to his chest “…I really need to understand.”

Travis ran one hand up and down her spine. Sifted the other through her hair. He pressed his forehead to hers, reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “When we first got together, I thought we were the same. Part of it was because of your family. Cartwright women are notorious for not wanting or needing a relationship with a man to be happy.”

Liz tilted her head to one side. “Andersons are just as independent.”

He grinned, not about to argue. “The rest had to deal with the fact that we both were very ambitious.” He let her go and stepped back. “We both wanted to be lawyers. We both worked hard in school and on our ranches.” His lips compressed in a wry, self-effacing smile.

“I thought we’d be able to date casually and have a good time and that when it came time for me to go off to college, you and I would part as friends.”

“And yet when it actually came time for you to leave…”

He flashed a wry smile. “I realized it wasn’t that simple.”

Liz waited, sensing there was more.

Travis exhaled sharply. “Because of my relationship with you, I was losing focus.” He paused, his expression matter-of-fact. “I knew that if we were going to achieve our dreams, we needed to finish growing up and to pursue our goals with the single-minded dedication we were both known for.”

“So you have no regrets,” Liz ascertained, not surprised, but disappointed nevertheless.

Because
she
had regrets. About all the things she hadn’t said. Or done…

Travis slowly, patiently closed the distance between them once more. “About what I did then? No. No regrets.” His gaze ardently traced her face, lingering on each feature in turn. He rubbed his thumb across her lip, absorbing the dewy moisture from their kiss. “It was the right decision for both of us at that time.” His expression gentled. “But now—now is a different situation entirely.”

Liz knew she should keep her distance.

Travis had crushed her dreams once and would surely do so again, when they found themselves in a different place. But as he pulled her against him, lowered his head and kissed her deeply, her will to fight faded as quickly as it had appeared.

Being with him like this felt like the most natural thing in the world. It felt right. So right, that with a little bit of luck, and more maturity… She opened her mouth to his, stroking his tongue with hers. With unrestrained passion, she surged against him, tempted by his warmth and his strength.

Travis responded, seeming to promise that if she dared give them another chance, the second time around would be so much sweeter and more fulfilling....

And that was when the sound of car engines came to their awareness and a blinding beam of light swept over them.

Embarrassed to be caught in a clinch, Liz broke off the impetuous kiss and stepped back. She lifted her arm to shield her eyes.

Silence reigned once again as the motors were cut, the headlamps faded.

Tillie and Faye Elizabeth got out of the sedan. Reba climbed down from the Four Winds Ranch pickup.

Hoping to divert their attention, and feel less like a reckless teenager caught in a heated clinch, Liz stepped forward. “What are you doing home so early?” Ignoring the tingling of her lips, she pretended a nonchalance she couldn’t begin to feel. “I thought you were staying late, to play cards.”

Tillie sighed. “Reba asked about an afghan crocheted by J.T.’s late wife, and that was all it took to get him upset. He asked us to leave, so we did.”

Liz winced. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“J.T. wants you to call him first thing, for an update about his rezoning request,” her mother added.

No doubt he would be as irascible as ever, too. “I’ll take care of it,” she promised as the first spattering of raindrops landed on her head.

Faye Elizabeth put up a hand to shield her hair, and headed for the door. “Coming in?” she asked Liz.

The invitation was clearly not extended to Travis.

“In a minute,” she promised.

Over her shoulder, her grandmother warned, “Don’t stay out here too long. We don’t want you getting soaked to the skin.”

Tillie followed her daughter. “Travis is such a gentleman. I am sure he won’t let that happen.”

“As long as something does,” Reba teased.

The three elder Cartwrights disappeared inside the house.

Chagrined, Liz turned to Travis.

The two of them ducked beneath the roof of the back porch. “Sorry about that.” She flushed.

Travis turned to face her and propped one shoulder against the limestone ranch house. “Score two for us resuming a relationship,” he remarked.

Was that what he thought it was? Liz wondered, both excited by the notion and distressed by the arrogance of the assumption.

Rain fell in fat drops, splattering on the grass and scenting the air.

“One against,” Travis continued.

Sadly, there was no saving either of them from Faye Elizabeth’s disapproval.

“That pretty much sums it up.” Liz sighed.

“The real question is—” Travis drew her close enough to feel his body heat “—what do
you
want?”

Liz knew she didn’t want a fling. Marriage—or even the hope of anything permanent and long-lasting—scared her, since love never worked out for Cartwright women. The odds of finding any middle ground were just as poor.

To spare them both further discomfort and embarrassment, she concentrated on what they could easily discuss. “I want the Four Winds Ranch to thrive again.” Liz paused to take a deep, enervating breath. “So I’d prefer the two of us to concentrate on accomplishing that.”

“
T
HANK
HEAVENS
it finally stopped raining,” Reba remarked when Travis walked into the ranch house kitchen the next morning.

“An inch or two at a time is good,” he said.

“Much more than that and we start having problems with all sorts of things, like flooding,” she stated.

Fortunately, the creeks and rivers weren’t high enough to make that a problem anytime soon, Travis thought.

“And debris-clogged creek beds.” Reba motioned for him to have a seat at the table, treating him like the “family” she hoped he would become. At least long enough to give her a grandbaby. “Speaking of overgrowth…we have to do something soon about the way the cedar and scrub are taking over the southern part of the ranch.”

“I agree,” Travis said as Liz walked in, dressed in an indigo business suit and ivory shell. With a leather business carryall looped over her shoulder, and her red hair drawn back in a knot at the nape of her neck, she looked elegant—and aloof. And he wanted nothing more than to get her horizontal again....

“Morning, all,” she said briskly, oblivious to the sensual nature of his thoughts.

Travis knew the way the previous evening ended had been his fault. In trying to make up for lost time and opportunity, he had pushed her too fast, too hard. Not surprisingly, she had become overwhelmed and put on the brakes. It was up to him to start over, and this time proceed at a pace she could accept. Would she give him a chance?

Liz took her travel mug off the rack.

Faye Elizabeth frowned in concern. “Please tell me you’re going to take the time to have breakfast.”

Liz’s spine stiffened defensively. A hint of pink stole into her cheeks, making her look even prettier.

“I wish I could, but I really need to get to the office.”

“Nonsense.” Reba narrowed her eyes, declaring, “You can stay for five minutes and talk ranch business with us.”

Tillie smiled and, trying a softer approach, handed Liz one of her famous, freshly baked triple-chocolate scones. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

Liz gave her great-grandmother a look. Everyone there knew pastries were one of her weaknesses.

“Five minutes,” she said, reluctantly sitting in the only vacant chair, the one directly opposite Travis.

Appreciating the view, but also concerned for Liz’s well-being, and not about to delay her unnecessarily, Travis said, “Back to the scrub and cedar overtaking the southern part of the ranch. I’d be happy to start clearing that for you.”

Reba hunted for the bottle of ibuprofen and shook some into her hand. “I’m looking at a more long-term solution to the problem.”

Liz tensed, as if she knew what was coming next.

Her mother swallowed a couple of pills and continued, “You can run about five goats per acre, and they’ll keep it clear of brush. All you have to do is supplement them with feed and move them around, from one rocky, overgrown patch to another.”