by Linda Warren
She never rehired the guards and neither did he. Somehow he felt he had failed Roscoe, but he knew if he hired new security, she’d fire them. So maybe for once in Kid’s life he was right. Jessie wanted her freedom.
The house loomed in front of him, and he had the same thought he did every time he visited—the structure resembled a fortress or a castle in England with its turrets, tower and mullioned windows with bars. It was impressive, but seemed out of place in Texas. That was Roscoe, though. He never did anything the normal way.
Cadde parked at the garages and got out. Two Dobermans ran to greet him, sniffed at his boots and trotted back to their spot at the door. At his first visit he almost had a heart attack when the dogs lunged at him, intending to take him down as if he was no more than a poodle. Roscoe had shouted, “Stay,” and they’d immediately backed off. He had the dogs sniff him so they’d know his scent. From then on the Dobermans never gave him a problem.
For the first time Cadde realized that Jessie virtually lived in a prison of Roscoe’s making. Why wouldn’t she want to spread her wings?
The stifling August breeze almost took his Stetson. Anchoring it with his hand, he headed for the house. The heat was almost suffocating, but soon the temperatures would drop as fall arrived.
It certainly was a time for a new direction.
JESSIE WENT THROUGH THE document once again. Hal, her lawyer, had drawn it up just like she’d asked. She paused for a moment, thinking over what she was about to do. A small shiver ran through her.
The small mixed Jack Russell terrier at her feet whined for attention. “What’s the matter, Mirry?” she cooed. She’d named her Miracle but she always called her Mirry. The dog sat on her foot as if all she needed was to know that someone cared. The poor thing looked pathetic with no tail or ears.
Jessie had found her on the side of the road and had taken her home and nourished her back to health. She couldn’t believe that some people could be so cruel, but no one was going to hurt Mirry again. She’d make sure of that.
The grandfather clock chimed in the hallway. It was time. Cadde would be here any minute. She’d bet money on it.
She straightened the dark suit and white silk blouse she’d worn to the board meeting this morning. Her hands went to her hair to check for loose strands that had worked their way out of her knot. She didn’t want to appear vulnerable.
Rosa, the housekeeper, walked in. “Can I get you anything, Miss Jessie?”
“No, thank you. If I need anything I’ll get it myself,” she chided softly. “Besides, I have iced tea.” She held up the glass. “That’s all I need.” A shot of vodka wouldn’t hurt, she mused to herself. Rosa would faint at the mention of such a thing. But if courage came in a bottle, she could definitely use it.
Round and barely five feet tall, Rosa was like her mother. She’d raised Jessie since she was seven years old. Sometimes she felt suffocated by all the sheltering. Her father never saw her as anyone but his baby girl who needed protection, as did Rosa. Jessie was thirty now and she was determined to have the life and freedom that she wanted.
“You’ve been so sad since Mr. Roscoe’s passing.”
“I’m okay,” she said, and smiled at the woman who would do anything for her. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m really fine. When Cadde arrives, tell him I’m in the sunroom.”
Rosa frowned. “What’s Mr. Cadde doing here this time of day?”
“Now, Rosa, don’t pry,” she teased.
Rosa shook a finger at her. “You’re up to something, Miss Jessie, I know that look.” Rosa had called her “Miss Jessie” ever since she could remember. She’d often asked Rosa to just call her Jessie, but Rosa never heeded her wishes.
They heard the back door open and close.
Rosa clicked her tongue as she went to confront their visitor. Jessie held her breath as she listened to the stomp-stomp of his boots against the hardwood floor. In a few seconds he was standing in the doorway, fury etched across his strong features. His jacket and tie from the morning were gone, but the jeans, white shirt, Stetson and boots were the same. The shirt was opened at the neck, revealing tiny swirls of dark chest hair. Her stomach tightened.
The first time she’d met him she’d thought how handsome he was: strong, powerful and everything a woman could want. There was just one problem. He treated her like a piece of the furniture. Today she was going to change that. She was going to rock Cadde Hardin’s world.
Without speaking to her, he walked into the room and carefully placed his hat on the table, as if he was gauging his next words.
“Okay, Jessie, we need to talk.” His deep voice demanded her attention.
She looked up, trying to appear as innocent as possible. “About what?”
“You know damn well about what. We talked last night and you seemed in agreement that Shilah should explore drilling outside of Texas, especially the Louisiana leases that Roscoe kept up-to-date. But once again you did a flip-flop. Why?”
“I didn’t promise you my vote.”
“Oh, no, you’re way too smart for that.” Anger now edged his voice and she could see that he was keeping a tight rein on his temper. His muscles were taut and his brown eyes intense. She refused to squirm. “Do you get some kind of perverse pleasure out of blocking my every move?”
“Actually, no.”
“Then what the hell is it?” He waved a hand around the green-and-white room. “This is paid for by Shilah. If the oil company goes under, so will all of this. Do you understand that?”
“I’m not stupid.” She could feel her anger bubbling to the surface and that’s the last thing she wanted. She had to remain calm, but that was hard to do with a six-foot-plus all-male glaring at her and demanding answers.
“Then why are you keeping Shilah stagnant? It has to grow to succeed.” He didn’t give her time to respond. “It’s me, isn’t it? You’re not comfortable with me taking over Roscoe’s position so you’re trying to stick it to me every way you can.”
She shook her head. “No. I think you’re more than qualified to fill Daddy’s shoes.”
“Then what the hell is it, Jessie? What do I have to do to get your support? What do you want?”
She played with the pen lying on top of the document for a second and then raised her eyes to his. “It’s quite simple. I want a baby.”
CHAPTER TWO
A BABY!
Had he heard her correctly?
Cadde swallowed. “What did you say?”
“A baby. I want a family.” She stated each word clearly.
His brow knotted together so tightly it made his brain hurt. Was she out of her mind?
“You mean you want to adopt?” That was the only explanation he could think of. “You don’t need my permission for that.” Or maybe she did. He didn’t know.
Her dark eyes flared like charcoal being lit by a match. “It may surprise you, but I don’t need your permission for anything.”
“Whoa.” He held up a hand. “I can see that pushes a button, but I’m out here in left field. What the hell are you talking about.”
“I’ll say it one more time, slowly, so you’ll understand.”
He gritted his teeth at her condescending tone and kept a leash on the curse words burning his throat.
“I want a baby. I want to conceive, feel the life grow inside me and give birth to my son or daughter.”
“Oh.” That pretty much obliterated every response from his mind.
“Since Daddy died I’m all alone in the world. I have no relatives that I know of. I want someone to call my own…someone to love.”
He heard the sadness in her voice and he felt himself weakening toward something he didn’t even understand. “If you’re talking about being artificially inseminated, as you pointed out, you don’t need my permission.”
She slapped the folder in front of her, drawing his attention to the file. On it, he saw the words Jessie Hardin. He wasn’t aware she went by her married name.
>
“Good grief, are you dense or what?” The first sign of emotion flashed across her pretty face. “Why would I need to go to a sperm bank? I have a husband.”
The creases on his forehead became tighter. “You mean you’re asking me to donate…?”
“No,” she interrupted him. “I want to have my husband’s child the old-fashioned way.”
What! It took a moment for him to catch his breath.
“You want us to make a baby?” he asked, motioning from her to him.
“Yes. You asked what I wanted and that’s it.”
His brow was so furrowed now he could barely think. “You do realize we’d have to have sex to accomplish that?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever had sex?”
Resentment flashed across her face. “Of course. I’m thirty years old.”
“When, Jessie?” he probed. “When have you had sex? Your father had you guarded twenty-four hours a day even in college.”
“There are ways to escape the guards,” she said with a lift of a dark eyebrow. “I’ve learned every trick in the book.”
“Did Roscoe know?”
“Of course not. The guards didn’t want to lose their jobs.”
He placed his hands on his hips. “Who did you sleep with?” He had no idea why he was asking her this. It was none of his business, but for some unknown reason it seemed important.
“I resent that question.” Like a shade being drawn to block the light, her eyes shut out any emotion other than anger. How he wished he could see beyond that veil of darkness.
“I am your husband,” he reminded, just to needle her.
She glanced at him. “Who I’ve slept with in the past is no concern of yours.”
He nodded, conceding her that point.
“We’re getting sidetracked,” she said. “Let’s get back to my request.”
Cadde rubbed his jaw. “Frankly, Jessie, I’m surprised. You’ve never shown one sign of making this marriage legit in every way.”
“Neither have you.” Her eyes held his like a trap held an animal.
The thought made his tone sharper than usual. “It’s damn difficult to get close to an iceberg.”
She bristled just as he knew she would. “And it’s even more difficult to attract a machine whose only focus is the oil business.”
“Damn, Jessie, this is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”
She twisted the iced tea glass on her right. “I’d like an answer to my request.”
The word request irritated him. “I’m not Roscoe and I don’t automatically grant your every wish.”
“Fine,” she answered without pausing, “I’ll continue to block your proposals at Shilah.”
“That’s not fair, Jessie.”
“Whoever said life was fair?”
He swiped his hand through his hair. “Honestly, Jessie, I’m not ready to be a father. I spend every waking minute I can trying to get Shilah back on its feet. Roscoe wasn’t feeling well his last year and made some bad decisions.”
She stood in a quick movement. “My father never made a bad decision.”
“Okay,” he replied to pacify her.
“Don’t patronize me,” she snapped.
He took a long breath, giving them both some time to cool off. “As I said, I’m not ready to be a father.”
“You’re almost forty,” she shot back. “When will you be ready?”
“When Shilah is making a steady profit.”
“Oh, please, you had time to go out to dinner with Karen Harvey—twice.”
He did a double take. How did she know that? “It was a business dinner—a reward for a job well done on a lawsuit pending against Shilah.”
One dark eyebrow lifted again. “You rewarded her twice?”
He tried not to appear guilty but he feared he failed. “There’s nothing between Karen and me. It was only business. I didn’t cheat on our sham of a marriage.”
“I’ll have to take your word for that.”
At that moment the crazy dog of hers sniffed at his boots. The mutt was small with a ring of brown around her left eye and another brown spot on her white body. “If she pees on my jeans one more time…”
Jessie bent and patted her leg. “Come, Mirry.”
The dog immediately trotted to her and Jessie stroked Mirry’s head. The little thing looked weird without any ears or tail, but that didn’t matter to Jessie. Her classical features softened as she cooed to the animal. He remembered Roscoe talking about her love of animals and it showed in her expression. None of that emotion had ever been bestowed upon him. He thought it best to get back to the matter at hand.
“A baby should be conceived between two people who are in love and building a life together,” he told her.
She straightened from petting the dog. “In most cases that’s true. It’s quite different for us, though. We were forced into this marriage and I’ve decided to make the best of it. I do not intend to remain childless.”
“But—”
“I thought sex to a man was like turning on a faucet…anywhere, anytime type of thing.”
He studied her face. “You’re so unemotional about this.”
“You want emotion, Cadde?” She reached down and opened the file. Pulling out a document, she slid it on the glass table in front of him. “Here’s the kind you will understand. The day I give birth I will sign over one share of my stock to you. I’ll then have twenty-five percent and you’ll have twenty-six, giving you control of Shilah. Isn’t that what you want more than anything in the world? Well, there it is in black and white.”
For the first time in his life words failed him. He couldn’t push a single syllable through his throat. Was she serious?
“I want full custody. You will give up your parental rights.” She tapped the paper. “It’s in the document. You can see the baby whenever you want, but I will raise the child, leaving you free to run Shilah. You have twenty-four hours to think it over and then the deal’s off the table.”
She brushed past him and he came to his senses, grabbing her arm. “Oh, no, you don’t get to walk away after delivering a bombshell like that.”
Her skin felt as soft and inviting as anything he’d ever touched, reminding him of a magnolia blossom from the tree his mother had planted in their yard in High Cotton, Texas. Jessie’s chest rose and fell with each labored breath. His eyes were glued to her breasts pressing against the white silk. A delicate, tantalizing scent reached him.
She was petite, barely five foot four, and all woman. Suddenly he could feel the heat building between them and he wondered why she didn’t pull away or why he didn’t let go.
“There’s nothing left to say,” she said in a hoarse voice he’d never heard before. “The next move is up to you.”
Reluctantly, he released her. “I thought you wanted a divorce or an annulment.”
“Quite the contrary.”
“So this is a business deal?”
“If you want to call it that.”
He shook his head. “You really are Roscoe’s daughter.”
“I learned from the best.” She left the room with that weird dog following her.
He jammed both hands through his hair. All it took was for him to get Jessie pregnant and he’d be in control of Shilah. He almost laughed out loud. What man wouldn’t want to go to bed with her? Why was he hesitating? He didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand the whole damn conversation he’d just had with her. But once again he knew Jessie was in control.
JESSIE QUICKLY CHANGED OUT of her suit and into jeans and a T-shirt. She had animals to feed. She paused for a moment to let her heart rate subside. Her hand went to the spot where Cadde had held her. His fingers were firm, powerful, but the touch of his skin against hers was warm, tempting, and she wanted him to wrap her in his arms and say…what? He didn’t love her. She knew that. Cadde loved the oil business. Her father had said that Cadde had oil in his blood and she now believed that
was true.
She had practically offered herself to him and he had to think it over. He wasn’t ready to be a father. That was crap. He just didn’t want her. He preferred the blond willowy type—like Karen Harvey.
Her pulse quickened at the sheer jealousy running through her. And then she laughed. What did she have to be jealous about? She and Cadde were married, yet they went their own ways. She certainly never asked him to be faithful to her. Dealing with her only parent’s death was hard enough without contending with a new husband.
Walking over to the window, she gazed outside in time to see Cadde’s truck drive away. Her father had once told her that if she wanted something to go after it no matter the consequences. She wanted Cadde Hardin and she went after him in the only way she knew. Time would tell if he would take the bait. Daddy was a gambler to his soul but she’d never thought of herself that way.
Until today.
Once you make a decision, stick to your guns, Jessie. His words came back to her. It wasn’t that simple, though. She was gambling with her heart—so dangerous. The consequence of getting hurt didn’t deter her and, like her father, she was willing to take the risk.
Her eyes went to the bars on the window. The prison especially built for her. She never had a normal childhood, a normal life, and that was her dream—to have a real family living without fear. She wanted to fill this big house with kids, laughter and love. And she wanted to do that with Cadde.
He’d called her an iceberg. Ouch. Well, she had to admit that in part it was true. She had thought her father would survive the surgery, but he hadn’t. In shock, she’d pushed everyone away, even her new husband.
She hated that Cadde had to be forced to marry her. She hated that he treated her like a piece of furniture. She hated that life had been so cruel.
After her grief had subsided somewhat she decided to try and make her marriage work. But first she had to get Cadde’s attention and doing that proved more difficult than she’d ever imagined. Therefore she aimed for his heart.
Now she waited.
CADDE SAT AT HIS DESK going over the document Jessie had drawn up. She was willing to give him control of Shilah for a baby. That should be easy—for any man. Why wasn’t it easy for him?