One Night with the Wealthy Rancher

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One Night with the Wealthy Rancher Page 1

by Brenda Jackson




  * * *

  THE TEXAS TATTLER

  All The News You Need To Know…And More!

  Maybe it’s just us, but a certain Texas Cattleman’s Club member sure has been spending an awful lot of time at the new Helping Hands Women’s Shelter. At first, it seemed as if this mega-rich rancher was just being neighborly and philanthropic. But we’ve caught a glimpse of the shelter’s newest advocate. There’s no way that TCC member has not noticed as well. He is, after all, a red-blooded Texan!

  But what about this new girl in town? She certainly couldn’t have missed that tall, dark and handsome rancher hanging around. And we all know how many women have been throwing themselves at this certain bachelor for his lovely loot. (Money and looks? Sign us up!) Has she been helping out at Helping Hands purely for compassionate reasons…or to get her hands on a millionaire?

  * * *

  Dear Reader,

  I feel honored to again participate in a TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB continuity.

  I love Texan men, which is why my hero from my very first book was from Texas. My fondest memories as a little girl were sharing the couch with my dad while watching some of the great westerns such as Rawhide, Gunsmoke, Bonanza, Maverick and so many others. All the leading men in those series were true heroes of the Wild West. The men of the TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB are the same type of heroes.

  I enjoyed writing Darius and Summer’s story as they realized what they had was love in the truest form, but it took a dosage of faith and trust to make it stronger. Both had been hurt by love but were willing to give it another try.

  I want to thank all the other five authors who are a part of this continuity. I enjoyed working with each of you.

  Happy reading!

  Brenda Jackson

  BRENDA JACKSON

  ONE NIGHT WITH THE WEALTHY RANCHER

  Books by Brenda Jackson

  Silhouette Desire

  * Delaney’s Desert Sheikh #1473

  * A Little Dare #1533

  * Thorn’s Challenge #1552

  Scandal Between the Sheets #1573

  * Stone Cold Surrender #1601

  * Riding the Storm #1625

  * Jared’s Counterfeit Fiancée #1654

  Strictly Confidential Attraction #1677

  * The Chase Is On #1690

  Taking Care of Business #1705

  * The Durango Affair #1727

  * Ian’s Ultimate Gamble #1756

  * Seduction, Westmoreland Style #1778

  Stranded with the Tempting Stranger #1825

  * Spencer’s Forbidden Passion #1838

  * Taming Clint Westmoreland #1850

  * Cole’s Red-Hot Pursuit #1874

  * Quade’s Babies #1911

  * Tall, Dark…Westmoreland! #1928

  One Night with the Wealthy Rancher #1958

  BRENDA JACKSON

  is a die “heart” romantic who married her childhood sweetheart and still proudly wears the “going steady” ring he gave her when she was fifteen. Because she’s always believed in the power of love, Brenda’s stories all have happy endings. In her real-life love story, Brenda and her husband of thirty-six years live in Jacksonville, Florida, and have two sons.

  A New York Times bestselling author of more than fifty romance titles, Brenda is a recent retiree who worked thirty-seven years in management at a major insurance company. She divides her time between family, writing and traveling with Gerald. You may write Brenda at P.O. Box 28267, Jacksonville, Florida 32226, by e-mail at [email protected], or visit her Web site at www.brendajackson.net.

  Special thanks and acknowledgment to Brenda Jackson for her contribution to the Texas Cattleman’s Club: Maverick County Millionaires miniseries.

  To the love of my life, Gerald Jackson, Sr.

  To everyone who joined me on the

  Madaris/Westmoreland Family Reunion 2009

  Cruise to Canada. This one is for you!

  “Provide things honest in the sight of all men.”

  — Romans 12:17

  Texas Cattleman’s Club

  #1952 Taming the Texas Tycoon —

  Katherine Garbera, July 2009

  #1958 One Night with the Wealthy Rancher —

  Brenda Jackson, August 2009

  #1964 Texan’s Wedding-Night Wager —

  Charlene Sands, September 2009

  #1970 The Oilman’s Baby Bargain —

  Michelle Celmer, October 2009

  #1977 The Maverick’s Virgin Mistress —

  Jennifer Lewis, November 2009

  #1983 Lone Star Seduction —

  Day Leclaire, December 2009

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  One

  “What are you doing here, Summer?”

  Summer Martindale’s eyes froze on the document in front of her at the sound of the husky voice. It was a voice she hadn’t heard in almost seven years, yet she distinctively remembered the sensuous timbre and how every audible vibration could stir her senses in a way that even today she could not explain.

  In a way she wished she could forget.

  She inhaled deeply and after a moment, she lifted her eyes and stared into Darius Franklin’s dark and intense gaze. It was a gaze that was emitting a chilling glare.

  Summer could just as easily glare back but refused to let him know how disturbing it was to see him again. W
hat had once been between them was over and done with. He had made sure of that in the worst possible way, which she could never forgive him for. His actions had caused her pain—a degree of pain she vowed never to experience again.

  “I could ask you the same thing, Darius,” she finally responded. Her tone was just as sharp as his had been.

  He stood tall, all six foot one inches of him, as he leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze fixed directly on her. She thought at that moment the very same thing she’d thought when she’d first laid eyes on him. Darius Franklin, with his pecan tan complexion, close-cut black hair, charcoal gray eyes and neat pencil-thin mustache, was an extremely handsome man. But there were other noticeable changes. His cheekbones appeared more pronounced and his lips seemed firmer.

  His dark stare, as well as the way a muscle seemed to twitch in his jaw, were all the evidence she needed that he wasn’t happy to see her and if truth be told, she wasn’t happy to see him, either. It would be a lie to claim she hadn’t thought about him over the years, because she had. Yet at the same time, the memory of what he’d put her through—the humiliation, heartbreak and pain—made her regret ever lowering her guard and letting him into her life.

  He stepped away from the door and she watched his every move, wishing she weren’t drawn to how fit his body was, and wishing a tug of desire had not invaded her stomach. Although he wasn’t as lean as he used to be, he wore his masculinity well. Well-toned muscles outlined his chest and shoulders—muscles she could easily see through the material of his chambray shirt. And then there were jeans that hugged his firm hips and strong thighs. They were thighs that could keep a tight hold on hers as he thrust deeper and deeper inside of her.

  She forced the turbulent memories away. Her gaze moved back up to his eyes and she tried not to flinch at the cold look in them. Something inside her shivered and she wondered how a man she had once fallen in love with so deeply could end up treating her so shabbily.

  “I live here in Somerset.”

  His voice cut through Summer’s thoughts. He lived here in Somerset? Maverick County? That information immediately filled her with apprehension and dread, as well as curiosity. When had he left the Houston Police Department and why?

  “I live in Somerset, as well,” she heard herself say. “I moved to town last month to work here at Helping Hands as a social worker.”

  Surprise lit his eyes. “A social worker?”

  “Yes.”

  She understood his surprise. When he’d last seen her seven years ago, he’d been twenty-four years old and a detective with the Houston Police Department. And she’d been a nineteen-year-old trying to escape the clutches of an abusive fiancé by the name of Tyrone Whitman. After she had broken off their engagement, Tyrone had refused to get out of her life, to leave her alone. He had stalked her for months before he’d finally caught her alone in her apartment, and for three hours he had held a gun to her head, threatening to blow her brains out.

  While the SWAT team had been trying to talk Tyrone into surrendering, Darius had broken into the apartment by coming through a bathroom window. He’d apprehended Tyrone and saved her. That night, Darius Franklin had become her knight in shining armor.

  He was the same man who had stopped by her apartment the next day to repair the window, and the same man who, after learning that a not-too-smart judge had posted bail for Tyrone, made it his business to become her protector until the trial. After that, he was the same man who she began seeing on a daily basis, who would drop by when his shift changed to spend time with her, to show her how special he thought she was.

  The same man who during that time, for one night, had been her lover.

  “So, you went to college and got your degree?” he asked, and for a split second she could have sworn she detected a degree of admiration in his voice, but the look in his hard gaze told her she’d been wrong.

  “Yes, I got my degree,” she responded, proud of her accomplishment and quickly remembering he was one of the few people who’d encouraged her to do so, and convinced her that she could. He had made her believe in herself. And a part of her had believed in them, in a future together. He had proven her wrong.

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” she said briskly, putting aside the document she had been reading. “So, why are you here, Darius? Although we’ve established the fact that we’re both living in Somerset, I’m sure this town is big enough for the both of us. What brings you to Helping Hands?”

  “I’m here to install the security system as well as the billing account for the shelter,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  She nodded. “I was told the Texas Cattleman’s Club would be sending someone over to do those things,” she said, finding it hard to concentrate.

  She had heard a lot about the Texas Cattleman’s Club, a group of men who considered themselves the protectors of Texas and whose members consisted of the wealthiest men in Texas, mostly from old money. The TCC was known to help a number of worthy causes in the community and Helping Hands, a newly opened women’s shelter located in the small, impoverished section of wealthy Maverick County, was one of them. They provided all the shelter’s funding.

  Summer had interviewed for the position at the shelter and once she had been offered the job, had decided it would be a good way to have a fresh start. She had made the move from Austin, where she had been living for the past six years.

  “How did you get the job?” She couldn’t help but ask.

  He shrugged. “I own a security company.”

  She raised a brow, surprised he had gotten out of law enforcement. He’d made a good police detective and she’d figured it would be his career. “How long have you been living in Somerset?” she asked.

  “Around six years.”

  It was the same amount of time she had lived in Austin. He had moved here a year after they had broken up. She quickly recalled that they really hadn’t broken up since they had never truly been together…at least not like she’d assumed they had.

  “If you’re through with your interrogation, I’d like to get to work,” he said.

  “Fine. I’ll get out of your way if you need to work in here for a while,” she said, getting up from her desk. Seeing him again after all this time was just a bit too much. Bittersweet memories were trying to invade her brain and she was determined to fight them back.

  “If you need anything, just let the shelter’s secretary, Marcy Dillard, know. I’ll use this time to go to lunch.”

  She grabbed her purse out of her desk drawer and quickly moved past him toward the door.

  “Summer?”

  She paused just before reaching the door and turned around. “Yes?”

  He still had a hard look in his eyes. “I would say welcome to town, but I wouldn’t mean it.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Then I guess that means we’ll have to learn to tolerate each other, doesn’t it?”

  Without waiting for him to respond, she turned and continued walking out the door.

  Darius leaned back against the desk and watched Summer until she was no longer in sight. It was only then that he made an attempt to begin breathing normally again. But it was hard because although he couldn’t see her, he still managed to feel her presence.

  Seven years was a long time, yet today when a startled Summer had looked up at him and met his gaze, he’d felt a sensation that was like a swift kick in the gut. Potent memories had flooded his mind, forcing him to recall what she had come to mean to him in such a
short period of time, and just how deep her betrayal had cut.

  He hit his fist on the desk, angry and frustrated. How could he still find her so desirable after all this time? After all she’d done? Why had seeing her sent sensuous shivers down his spine? She was seven years older, no longer a mere nineteen-year-old who hadn’t decided what she wanted out of life other than to be free of an obsessive ex-fiancé. She was just as stunning as he remembered. Even more so.

  She had matured beautifully. She was about five-eight, tall and slim with shoulder-length straight brown hair and hazel eyes he could always drown in. Her skin tone, the color of café au lait, had always tempted him to lick her all over.

  Darius bowed his head momentarily as even more memories he had tried so hard to forget resurfaced.

  After college, he’d gotten a job with the Houston Police Department as a detective with aspirations of moving up the ranks. Authorities had been called to the scene regarding a domestic dispute, and Darius and his partner, Walt Stewart, had been the first to arrive.

  A young woman who had obtained a restraining order against her ex-fiancé was in danger. The man, named Tyrone Whitman, had broken into her apartment and was holding a gun to her head, threatening to kill her unless she took him back.

  While Walt tried talking him into surrendering, Darius was able to get into the apartment through a rear bathroom window, overtake Whitman and free Summer.

  Concern for her safety when Whitman was released on bond allowed Darius to convince himself that it was important to keep checking on her. But then it became obvious it was a lot more than that. Point-blank, he had been attracted to her and thought she was a special woman who’d gotten mixed up with the wrong guy, and was trying to get her life together. Against his better judgment, although he’d been warned by Walt that Summer wasn’t really what she seemed, he had fallen for her, and fallen hard.

 

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