Terms of a Texas Marriage

Terms of a Texas Marriage
Lauren Canan

When Shea Hardin weds Alec Morreston to save her family’s ranch, she swears the marriage will be in name only. But the suave billionaire wants her in his bed… and his proposition is dangerously tempting.Because of a two-hundred-year-old deed, modern Texas rancher Shea Hardin must wed wealthy landowner Alec Morreston to save her family home. She says yes—and swears this marriage will be in name only.But she underestimates him. One look at this suave billionaire and Shea knows staying out of Alec’s bed will be the toughest challenge of her life. His hungry lips and skilled touch may seal the deal—and her fate. Will he take her heart and her land? Or, on the brink of losing it all, will Shea gain everything…?

Shea sat on the edge of the bed as reality came slamming back.

Willing her pulse to steady, she took a deep breath in a desperate attempt to clear her head. Still giddy and a bit light-headed, her hand trembled as she ran her fingers through her hair. It had been close. Too close. His touch left her feeling badly in need of something more.

He hadn’t made love to her. She should be monumentally happy. Why, then, did she feel ridiculously disappointed?

She’d almost had sex with Alec Morreston.

Even worse, he hadn’t forced her. He hadn’t held her down or tied her to the bedposts. He’d kissed her. That was all. Apparently, that had been enough. She knew it. And worse, so did he.

The full impact of that realization flooded her mind. Alec Morreston was here to take away her ranch, her home, everything she held dear. She would do well to remember that. He was, inarguably, a very potent package with obvious experience to back that up.

She had to be strong.

Terms of a Texas Marriage

Lauren Canan

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

LAUREN CANAN, born and raised amid the cattle ranches of Texas, climbed a fence and jumped onto the back of her first horse at age three. She still maintains the punishment was worth the experience. She grew up listening to her dad tell stories of make-believe and was always encouraged to let her imagination soar. The multi-award-winning author and recipient of the 2014 Golden Heart

Award happily spends her days penning her favorite kind of stories: those of two people who, against all odds, meet, fall in love and live happily ever after—which is the way it should be. In her spare time she enjoys playing guitar, piano and dulcimer in acoustic club jams and getting lots of kisses and wags from her four-legged fuzzy babies. Visit Lauren’s website at laurencanan.com (http://laurencanan.com). She would love to hear from you!

I owe my love of telling stories to my dad.

Without his inspiration and encouragement, my journey to become an author would never have begun. This story was possible because of the love and support of my critique siblings, Angi, Jan, Jen and Kathleen, who were always there with a shoulder to cry on when I needed one. To the best literary agent in the world, Jill Marsal, who has the patience of a saint. To my dearest friend, Laurel, whose belief in me never wavered. And to Terry, my own real-life hero. He taught me the true meaning of love and happily ever after.

Contents

Cover (#u4f1053f0-7889-50a4-9492-ec28ac23b695)

Introduction (#ub2bd1f20-4b30-5a26-a181-11c2ad5f730a)

Title Page (#u8827eec5-bded-5ee8-930f-4338e44727f3)

About the Author (#uec7561b6-1649-51db-b877-b89290e8317f)

Dedication (#u0f107c28-b1cc-5e4a-9a22-886b5a98ae66)

One (#u9c78b242-b1ad-5d91-bcfb-3affdcfdc0d5)

Two (#u85e71771-45f6-5729-a9c2-96615bc28d89)

Three (#u4a4f6779-f86d-59a3-9c76-ec70873c4223)

Four (#u6299d834-7fdb-502f-8c3c-2eb0210517f8)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

One (#ulink_97392404-cab9-5f33-a7cd-ac58824ca3fb)

Shea Hardin had to admit the man didn’t look like the devil. No horns sprouted up through Alec Morreston’s thick, expertly styled, mahogany-brown hair, although a few defiant tendrils fell lazily over his forehead. The wide mouth and well-defined lips, while appearing unrelenting, didn’t make it to a complete snarl. The near-perfect white teeth, seen briefly in the forced smile as introductions were made, didn’t include fangs. In fact, the sculpted features of his face had the potential to be exceedingly handsome, but the lack of any emotion other than cold indifference reduced that potential to tolerable. Just.

She’d sensed his glance several times since entering the conference room adjacent to her attorney’s office. She didn’t need to look in his direction to know he watched her, silently, recording his first impressions, probably sizing up her abilities, weighing her strengths, discreetly alert to any hint of weakness.

Feminine instinct told her his assessment wasn’t limited to her ability to handle this situation. He was also taking in every curve of her body, noting every breath she took, watching every move she made. It was a frank and candid assessment of her female attributes without any effort to conceal his interest. Intuition told her here was a man who knew what a woman needed and exactly how to provide it. His subtle arrogance was at once insulting and alluring.

She tried to swallow but her mouth had gone dry. Endeavoring not to appear affected by this man, she crossed her legs, shook the hair back from her face and fixed her eyes on the old pendulum wall clock. But in spite of her determination to ignore him, there was no denying the heat radiating throughout her body, inflaming her senses, fueling the unwanted need pooling in her lower belly.

Picking up a pencil, she scribbled furiously on the open notepad. She was reacting like a besotted teenager. How could she possibly feel any attraction whatsoever to this man? His chosen path in life was destroying the past; tearing down the treasured remains of bygone eras, replacing them with cold glass and steel fabrications. And this man wanted her ranch. The awareness of her body’s traitorous response both stunned and angered her.

She was not going to be intimidated—or enticed—by him or his attorney. The very reason they sat across from her should be enough to dispel any thoughts that Alec Morreston would ever be someone she’d want to know better.

“If everyone is ready, I suggest we begin,” said Ben Rucker, her attorney and longtime family friend. He switched on a small tape recorder sitting on the polished conference table amid the varying papers, notepads and legal documents.

“Today is April twenty-sixth. The purpose of this meeting is to address the issue of tenancy concerning the home and land currently occupied by Shea Hardin. In attendance are Alec Morreston, owner of the property, his attorney, Thomas Long, Shea Hardin and myself, Ben Rucker, legal counsel for Ms. Hardin.”

Shea smiled at Ben. His tired but astute gray eyes reflected his concern over the situation. He’d practiced law for almost forty years, and she had complete confidence in his abilities, as her father had before her.

“At the turn of the nineteenth century, five thousand one hundred and twenty acres of land running along the western boundary and into what is now the National Forest and Grassland Reserve in Calico County, Texas, were acquired by William Alec Morreston. Later that year, he transferred the entire parcel to a widow, Mary Josephine Hardin. Since that time, descendants of Mary Hardin have continued to live on the land, today licensed as the Bar H Ranch.”

Ben reached for his glasses, placed them on his nose and picked up his copy of the original paperwork.

“Rather than a purchase, this transfer of land was handled in a manner similar to what we today call a lease.” He glanced over the top of his glasses. “I believe you each have a copy of the original paperwork?” When everyone nodded, he continued. “You’ll note the duration was ninety-nine years with a renewal option.