by Cathie Linz
“It wasn’t easy. All I could remember was that your grandmother’s house was in Sun-something. Do you know how many small towns in the Sierras start with ‘Sun’?”
She shook her head, noticing the faint crease between his brows.
“Well, there are a ton of them. I had to check out every one individually. Naturally, Sunfield was almost at the bottom of my list.”
“You found me, though.” She started to reach out to him, then checked the gesture.
“Yes,” he said, and even she couldn’t miss the satisfaction in that word. “I found you.”
“You’re...looking good.” Actually, he looked fabulous, though very tired. With an effort, she kept her fingers from smoothing the lines of weariness from his brow. Even his suit and tieless shirt seemed somehow appropriate for him, although he was the first person she’d seen in a suit since she’d hit town.
“You too,” he said. From the way his eyes inspected every inch of her sundress-clad body, bare legs, and sandaled feet, she knew it was no casual compliment.
She tore her gaze from him and focused on the huge pine across the street. “Cliff, why are you here? Is the Bartlett trial over?” He heart hammered in her chest with hopes that suddenly, desperately tried to fly free.
He shrugged again. “I don’t know. I quit my job.”
That drew her attention. “What? Why?”
“Because I realized I hated my work.” He paused. “Mallory, this can’t be a surprise to you. We talked about how different it was from what I expected when we were up in that cabin in Julian, remember?”
“But—to give up your ambitions—I can’t believe it.”
“Mallory, my ambitions were making me ill. You were right about that, too. My doctor told me I was well on the way to building a dandy ulcer. I realized after you left that I was still trying to impress a ten-year-old kid from the wrong side of the tracks. My career was more for the kid I used to be, not for the adult I am now.”
“Like me trying to impress my parents, instead of doing what I really wanted,” she murmured.
His eyes lasered into hers. “And what is it you really do want? I thought it was a network job in New York.”
Mallory’s breath caught. She should have known he’d ask. Carefully, she kept her eyes on his hands, not quite willing to meet his gaze. “I realized I want something different from my parents. They wanted to prove themselves to the whole world.”
“And you don’t?”
She smiled a little wistfully. “Not really. I’ll be happy if I can prove myself to myself. And maybe...”
“Maybe?”
“Maybe to someone else, too. Cliff, why are you here?”
A knot of tension visibly eased in his shoulders. “Because you’re here,” he said gently. He took her hand and a fortifying breath. “I wanted to ask you a question.”
“What question?” Those hopes were beginning to flutter into her throat. It was hard to force her words past them.
“How do you feel about unemployment?”
“What?” Of all the possible questions she’d breathlessly imagined he might ask, that wasn’t one of them.
“Well, you see before you a guy with no job. I sold my condo—and at a cut-rate price, I might add, because someone else had recently put hers on the market, driving up the supply.”
Her hand turned, weaving her fingers with his. The thudding of her heart almost drowned his soft words.
“Where was I? Oh, yes. No job. No home. I sold all my too-expensive furniture. Just a used car and some clothes to call my own.”
“A used Lexus,” she pointed out helpfully.
“Yeah. You know how expensive those are to insure and maintain? Like I said, a used car.” He took a deep breath and leaned his forehead against hers. “So what do you think? Do my reduced circumstances put me completely out of the running?”
Her free hand traced the creases of his cheek. Her heart was thudding so powerfully, she could barely squeeze out a reply. “Out of the running for what? I understand Sunfield needs a new dogcatcher.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m allergic.”
“Oh. Well, what did you have in mind?”
“Maybe a small practice here. I used to be a pretty good lawyer, you know. And a proposition, really. Sort of like the one you once made me.”
She groaned. “Not another great-sex-and-no-commitments affair!”
“Not a chance. How about great-sex-and-lots-of-commitments? How about you marry me and put me out of my misery? And then we’ll talk about our affairs.”
His suggestion sent her temper soaring. “You will not have affairs while you’re my husband! No way!”
“Sure I will—with you. I figure if an affair is what you want, an affair is what you’ll get. But only if you marry me first.”
“And what if I want more?”
He watched her warily. “What do you mean by more?”
She took a deep breath. “Children. A family. What if I want that, too?”
His head lifted from hers and the wariness was back in his eyes. “Children? Mallory... you’re not...”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not pregnant. Not yet, anyway.” Her eyes searched his. “But would it be so awful if I were?”
“Pregnant...” He tasted the word slowly and the thoughtful gleam in his eye worried her. His hand slipped down her neck to settle on her stomach in a protective caress. “My baby growing inside you...no, ‘awful’ isn’t exactly how I’d describe that.”
“How—how would you describe it?” Her hopes had reached her mouth and eyes, curving her lips into a smile and bringing the sting of joyous tears to her eyes.
“Heaven on earth. Mallory, marry me. Have my babies. Make me complete.”
The smile on her face must have outshone the sun because she saw its light reflected in his eyes. Deliberately, she tried to lighten her voice. “Sounds like an okay deal to me. But, Counselor, shouldn’t we negotiate some more?”
“Negotiate what?”
“Well, you haven’t told me you love me yet. Seems to me that’s an essential part of the deal.”
“Oh. Well, maybe you’re right.”
He slipped to his knees beside the swing and pulled a small box out of his pants pocket. “I love you, Mallory Reissen, more than I ever thought I could love someone else. Please marry me.” He opened the box and offered her a simple solitaire diamond that was not ostentatiously large, but perfectly shaped for her hand.
Gracefully she let him slip it on her finger, then she slipped to her knees facing him. “I love you too, Cliff. I told you so weeks ago and every day apart has only made that love deeper and more a part of me. I could live without you, I’m sure. But I can’t be joyful without you. I can’t have the love I need without you.”
His arms slipped around her and hugged her tightly against him. “Ah, Mallory, Mallory. How much I love you!”
For long moments, they stayed there, luxuriating in the simple pleasure of holding each other in their arms. Finally, Cliff said, “Uh, Mallory?”
“What?” Her lips had already started to explore his cheek.
“Could we get up? My knees are killing me.”
With a burble of laughter, she helped her complaining lover up.
“Do I take it that we’re in agreement at last?” he asked as she guided him toward her front door and more private—and comfortable—surroundings.
“Maybe,” she said, pretending to ponder. “We’ve certainly adjusted the terms of our affair to some that are more to my liking.”
His arm curled around her, he headed up the stairs. “Yeah. As I recall, we originally wanted an affair with great sex and no commitments.”
She pointed out the door to her bedroom. “And now we’ve got a great-sex-and-profound-commit-ments affair.”
He turned her to face him and looked into her eyes with an intensity and sincerity she couldn’t miss. “No, Mallory. Now we’ve got a love that will last a lifetime. Now we’ve
got a marriage. And we’re going to have a marriage and a family. And that makes all the difference.”
Mallory could only agree happily with his assessment of their circumstances. Love did make the difference. And she intended to spend a lifetime showing him—and herself—just how much a difference it made.
HARLEQUIN DUETS
ISBN : 978-1-4592-5052-9
THE RANCHER GETS HITCHED
Copyright © 1999 by Cathie L. Baumgardner
AN AFFAIR OF CONVENIENCE Copyright © 1999 by Maureen Caudill
All rights reserved Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.