Anna Leigh Keaton - Risking It All

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by Anna Leigh Keaton


  Breathing in his musky scent made her eyelids droop with pleasure. “No. Father and I will never see eye to eye on anything. He still wishes he had a son, and there’s not much I can do about that.” Except give him grandsons, which could never happen.

  She wasn’t about to tell Travis what the bastard had done that sent her running across the Atlantic to hide out in his house.

  “We’re back to four years ago. I was exhausted with the life I led. It’s not glamorous at all from the inside, and I wanted out, badly.” She looked into Travis’ eyes and steeled herself for what she needed to say. “I’d been dating a photographer’s assistant. Warren was...well, I fancied myself in love with him.”

  Travis’ scowl would have stopped a raging bull. But she pushed on.

  “I’d just found out I was pregnant with his child.”

  Chapter Twelve

  His fingers bit into her flesh where he held her. His body tensed. She didn’t like making him angry, but she pushed on. What came next was even worse.

  “We were staying in a hotel in Dublin and had an early shoot the next morning. I planned to tell him about the baby when we got back to London.” She licked her lips, hating to remember. “It was the middle of the night, and someone was pounding on our door. He got out of bed to find out what the problem was.

  “I heard a scuffle and Warren cursing. I put on my robe and came out of the bedroom. All I saw was a woman with bright blonde hair throwing something at me. I turned my head away, but the liquid coated my side.” A shuddery breath eased out of her. “And then all I remember is the pain.”

  Travis gave a strangled groan and hugged her tight. She closed her eyes and let him comfort her. The telling wasn’t so bad, though. Not with him.

  “What was it? What did she throw on you?”

  “Rubbing alcohol. Models use it to keep the shine off their skin under the bright lights.” She eased back to her own pillow and laced her fingers with his. “She had one of those butane lighters and ignited the fuel before I even had time to react. She’d meant to ruin my face, she admitted to police when they caught her. It’s only by dumb luck that it was one of the few parts of my body that didn’t go up like a torch.”

  Travis shook his head. “Who was she? Why’d she want to hurt you?”

  “Warren’s ex-wife. When we started dating, he told me he was already divorced. Turned out he wasn’t. I was the other woman.”

  “Christ.”

  She nodded. “Anyway, long story short. No one knew I was pregnant, and they gave me drugs to induce a coma that caused the baby to die. They did a D and C on me, but I got a severe infection. They had to perform an emergency hysterectomy. I spent four months in a burn trauma hospital in France.” She scoffed, and her lips twisted in wry humor. “My father wanted only the best care for his daughter. A matter of family pride, I think.”

  “What happened with the baby’s father?”

  She swallowed. She was over the man, had been for years, but she couldn’t help the bitterness. “His ex-wife had stabbed him, but not fatally. He’d been able to call for help. He spent a couple weeks in Dublin, then flew to France to see me.” She shook her head. “I don’t remember any of this. I was still too out of it, drugged out, but my mom was there when he arrived. He took one look at me, heard the doctor’s prognosis for my recovery—at the time they never expected me to even walk again—and he left. I never heard from him again.”

  “Fucking bastard. He obviously didn’t love you.”

  Neela held her breath, waiting to see if Travis would say more, but he didn’t. He just held her tight and gently rocked her back and forth.

  “Obviously,” she whispered. She knew without any shadow of a doubt that if something like that happened to Travis, she’d never leave his side no matter what. If he wanted her there. Unfortunately, she had no idea what Travis wanted from her.

  “Thank you,” he whispered in her ear.

  “For what?” Her words were muffled against his chest.

  “For trusting me enough to open up and tell me.”

  She nodded in response. How could she not trust him? He was the only person who had never been repulsed by her scars. A third of her body had been burned. A third of her body was sickly pink and puckered. And yet, he touched her, kissed her.

  “Daddy?”

  Neela raised her head and looked at the door. Chris stood there with his thumb in his mouth, a raggedy little teddy bear clutched to his chest.

  “Come here, sprite,” she said as she pulled out of Travis’ arms and tucked the sheet tight around her, covering herself.

  Chris ran across the room and scrambled up on the bed, crawled over Travis and settled himself between his dad and her. He grinned around his thumb, then tucked his head against her shoulder and sighed.

  When she turned her gaze away from the sweet little boy to Travis, she thought her heart would burst. The tenderness in his eyes, the soft smile on his lips. All directed toward her.

  Maybe there was hope that someday he could love her as much as he’d once loved his wife.

  * * * * *

  Neela glanced at the clock on the wall as she pushed open the screen door with her hip, two iced glasses of lemonade in her hands. The boys were all down for a nap, and with any luck they’d be asleep for an hour.

  She turned and handed Carol one of the glasses, then took a seat on the porch swing next to her. “I’m so glad that overbearing husband of yours made you stay here while they’re gone.”

  Just one night Travis had been away, but it had been the longest, loneliest night since she arrived in Arizona. The brothers had gone up to Flagstaff to buy a couple horses and to talk to a beef buyer. If Carol hadn’t been around, she would have been completely miserable.

  Carol took a sip then chuckled. “I am, too.” She held the glass to her forehead, then the side of her neck. “I think I’d go bonkers staying in the house all by myself.” She pressed her hand against her huge belly and sighed. “I cannot wait to get this baby out of me. I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life. And the heat...ugh.”

  “Do you want to go inside?” Neela made to stand, but Carol shook her head.

  “No, what I want is for you to tell me about you and Travis.”

  A smile Neela couldn’t stop twitched her lips. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Pu-lease.” Carol rolled her eyes in comic fashion. “You don’t think that Jeff and I didn’t see that rather, shall we say, intimate kiss he gave you before they left yesterday morning, do you?”

  The heat rose up in Neela’s cheeks. Thank goodness for her dark skin or she’d be glowing like a jack-o-lantern. She shrugged, trying to maintain nonchalance. “That little peck?”

  Carol laughed, almost spitting out her lemonade. “Come on. It’s just us girls here. Spill!”

  Neela sighed and tilted her head back, wishing there were a breeze to cool her skin. “Okay. We’ve been...you know...”

  “Ahh. I knew it. I knew it!”

  “Shh. You’ll wake the boys.” But Neela giggled when she looked at Carol’s laughing blue eyes, so much like her own mother’s. “For about two weeks.”

  Two weeks of bliss, Neela thought. Of Travis coming to her every night. Or rather, him hauling her off to the nearest bed as soon as the boys were asleep. Of him stopping by the house in the middle of the day just to kiss the stuffing out of her. Of him being the sweetest, most gentle person she’d ever known.

  “You love him?”

  Neela nodded. What was the use in denying it? “More than anything in this world. Him and the boys.”

  “I’m so happy. I thought he’d never find a woman again after Theresa. I’m so glad it’s you.”

  Her heart in her throat, Neela tilted her head and looked at Carol. “Tell me about her?” She still wondered how she could live up to the woman Travis had loved his whole life.

  The smile left Carol’s face to be replaced by shadows of sadness. “She was a good woman. We were the best of fri
ends. Her death took us all by surprise because she’d always been so healthy. An aneurysm while giving birth.” Carol shook her head. “The doctors almost lost Chris, too.” She brushed her hand over her forehead and looked out over the land. “She was a good mother, a good wife, a great friend. Travis was devastated, but after a few months he started coming back to us. He knew he had his boys to care for; he’s always been a very devoted father. But he also knew he had to get back to work because...” Carol squinted. “They can’t be home already. They’re not supposed to be back until late tonight.”

  Neela jerked her gaze toward the road to see a tail of dust flying out behind a vehicle as it made its way toward the house. Her heart sped up, and she grinned. They’d made it back early.

  But then her smile died on her lips as the car grew closer. It wasn’t Jeff’s shiny, red F350 coming down the road. It was a sleek, black limousine. Her stomach cramped.

  “Oh no,” Carol whispered. “That’s your father, isn’t it?”

  Neela swallowed. “Who else would have that kind of car out here?”

  “I talked to your mother a week ago...” Carol licked her lips and turned a concerned gaze on her. “Your father still had no idea where you were.”

  Neela nodded. She’d talked to her mother just the other day. Omar was irate, but her mother hadn’t caved and told him where she was. Though her mother did say she was concerned about her father’s heart.

  Bugger it all! She didn’t want to deal with Omar, yet. She wasn’t ready. From what her mother said, he hadn’t calmed in the weeks she’d been gone. Instead, he’d been even more tyrannical. Neela had begged her mother to come to the States, but the woman loved Omar too much to leave him—something Neela would never, ever, understand.

  The limo came to a dusty halt right in front of the porch. Neela stood, refusing to be cowed by her father. The chauffer exited the car, walked around to the passenger side, and opened the back door. Omar, dressed in a black business suit, his shoes as shiny as always, stepped out into the hot sun.

  Oh, dear Lord, Neela thought when she saw the glare in his pitch black eyes. He was one pissed-off man.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Travis hummed under his breath to Garth Brooks singing about his friends in low places. Good tune, he thought idly, but didn’t fit his mood one bit. A couple of hours and he’d be home. Home with Neela. A slow smile spread over his lips when he thought of the ring in his pocket. Nothing fancy—he couldn’t afford fancy—but it was pretty, and he hoped to God Neela would accept it. Accept him and the boys—forever. He couldn’t give her much in the way of material goods, but he could give her a loving family. And a loving husband. Dear God, he silently prayed, let her say yes.

  “It’s good to see you smile again,” Jeff said in an offhanded manner as he sat scrunched down in the passenger seat, his Stetson pulled low over his eyes.

  The grin grew on Travis’ lips. “Really? You sayin’ I don’t smile much?”

  Jeff snorted. “Didn’t before Neela came.”

  Travis hadn’t told his brother where he’d been the night before, when he’d gone to the mall in search of an engagement ring. Hadn’t let Jeff in on his secret. That he was going to propose to Neela.

  He had it all planned out. Once the boys were in bed, he’d say he needed to take a shower and ask her to meet him in his room. He’d light candles out on the balcony and open the bottle of champagne he’d purchased, and then—

  Jeff’s cell phone rang. Jeff pulled it from his belt and checked the caller ID. He grinned as he sat up straighter. “The wife.” He flipped it open. “Hey, babe.”

  Travis sighed in contentment. Maybe soon he could say that.

  “Wait. Slow down. What about Neela’s father? He was there?”

  Travis’ foot came off the accelerator when he heard Jeff’s surprise, his concern. “What’s wrong?” He pulled over to the side of the road and threw the truck into Park.

  “Here, babe. Tell Travis.”

  Travis practically ripped the phone from his brother’s hand. “Carol?” A wail took him by surprise, and his heart clenched, his gut churned. “Is Neela okay? What’s wrong?”

  “Her father...he was here...he made her go with him.... Oh, God, Travis!” She sniffled. Travis gripped the phone and stared at Jeff, his brow furrowed. “He threatened her...you. He said...he said...” Her words broke off as she sobbed. “He said he’d make sure you lost the ranch if she...didn’t go with him!”

  “Where are they now?” He looked at the clock on the dashboard. Damn it. They were still more than five hours from the ranch.

  “He said he had a plane waiting for them in Tucson. Travis!” She was hysterical. “He said she had to marry some man. She refused, and he said he’d cut her off...f‑financially. She said...” Her voice broke again. “...she said she didn’t care. So he said he’d make sure you lost the ranch.”

  Fury boiled inside him. He wanted to kill something. Someone. How dare some overbearing jackass force a full-grown woman into something with threats. “Is this why she came to Arizona in the first place? To escape a pre-arranged marriage?”

  Jeff nodded at the same time Carol sobbed out, “Y-yes.”

  “Son-of-a-fucking-bitch!”

  “He said he’s going to make sure your loans are called in. That you’d lose everything.”

  Travis exploded. “I don’t give a goddamn about the ranch! I can’t lose her!” He couldn’t lose another woman he loved. He wouldn’t survive it this time.

  Jeff extracted the phone from his fingers and tried to calm down his panicked wife. Travis threw open the door and hopped out of the truck, paced down the highway under the scorching sun, then turned back. He hurt. His chest hurt. His head hurt. His heart hurt. He couldn’t catch his breath.

  She’d left to save his ranch.

  She had to love him. Goddamn it, she should have known he wouldn’t let her do this to herself. Forced marriage? No fucking way! Even if she didn’t want him, he couldn’t let her do something like that. He cared about her too much to see her hurt.

  He hopped back into the truck, buckled his seatbelt, and threw it into gear.

  “You sure about this?” Jeff asked, his voice calm.

  Travis stared out the windshield, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “As sure as I’ve ever been about anything.”

  “You could lose the homestead.”

  His stomach felt as if he’d swallowed a ball of fire. “Yeah.”

  Jeff slapped him on the shoulder. “We still have my half of the ranch. We’ll make it work. And there’s plenty of room at our place.”

  Travis swallowed hard, his throat closed on too many emotions to sort out. “Thanks, brother.”

  * * * * *

  Neela tossed back another flute of champagne, praying the alcohol would work fast to numb her brain. She seethed with anger and not a little fear as she stared across the room at her fiancé. With a shudder, she exchanged the empty glass for a full one and raised it to her lips.

  Her engagement party. She’d be married in three days. To Branson Fitzhugh. Her stomach threatened to throw back the alcohol she’d already downed.

  The man looked like a rat, with a bloated belly, skinny arms and legs, and that long, pointed face. Besides his hideous looks, he was almost old enough to be her grandfather. Omar hadn’t wasted a second. She’d only been home two days when he forced her to attend this party of old, stuffed-shirt businessmen and their over-primped wives.

  “Sweetheart.” Her mother’s soft voice worked past her misery. “You shouldn’t drink so much.”

  Neela tipped the glass and drained it. “Don’t start with me, Mom. You’d want to be pissing drunk too if you were being forced to marry that.” She pointed the empty champagne flute at the smarmy little man.

  “Shh.”

  “What do you mean, shh?” Neela rounded on her mother. She wanted to scream, to yell, to tell every high society jackass in the room how she felt about her upcoming nuptials. B
ut when she saw the tears in her mom’s eyes, she choked up.

  “I’m sorry, Neela.” Her mom stood straight, her shoulders back, always the proper lady, but the misery on her face, in her eyes, brought tears to Neela’s own.

  “I can’t do this, Mom,” Neela whispered around her painfully tight throat. “I can’t marry him.”

  “Then don’t,” she whispered, grabbing Neela’s free hand between her icy ones. “Go away again. Go somewhere he can’t find you, and don’t contact me. He found you because of the phone bill. If you don’t call me, he won’t be able to come get you again.”

  “Mom, I can’t do that.” The tears spilled down her cheeks. “I love you. I can’t go away and never contact you.” Besides, there was no guarantee Omar wouldn’t still go after Travis if she left. She couldn’t put the Rocking K in danger. It was Travis’ life.

  She straightened her own shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said to her mother as she swiped her cheeks with the back of the hand holding the champagne glass. “I’m going to marry that nasty old man and make his life so miserable he begs for a divorce.” She forced a grin that was more teeth than humor. “I grew up with Omar the Hun as a father. I know how to make myself impossible to live with.”

  “He’s not so bad...”

  Neela raised an eyebrow at her mother, who clamped her lips tight. “You’ve been telling me that since I was a child, Mom. You cannot prove it by me. He might treat you well, but he’s never given a shit about me.”

  “Shh.” In a harsh whisper, her mother said, “Your language has turned horrid since you were on that ranch.”

  Neela snorted and grabbed another drink from a passing waiter. “Maybe if I get drunk and obnoxious tonight, dear old Branson will go running for the hills. He wants a beautiful society bride, not some—” A thought struck her. She’d show Branson Fitzhugh exactly what he was getting. “Be back in a couple minutes, Mom.” She swept from the ballroom, jogged down the hallway, and then sprinted up the stairs to her bedroom.

 

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