Engaging Brooke

“You’ll get it,” he said, noticing another calf that didn’t look healthy. It wasn’t playing or running like the others. “Excuse me.”

“What’s wrong?” Brooke asked, following close behind him.

He walked over to the calf and pointed. “Tell me what you see.”

“She doesn’t look good.”

Jameson silently swore. They’d had a great calving season, but it was still a delicate time for the newborn calves. He had to keep constant watch for broken bones from being stomped on by the herd or for infections. He still felt bad about the call from his foreman, telling him he’d lost a horse he’d hoped to rescue and the second one was still touch and go. He didn’t need more bad news. He walked over and pulled the skin on one of the calf’s necks. It lacked the elasticity he expected, meaning it was dehydrated. He watched Brooke do the same with another calf.

“This one is dehydrated, but I don’t see any of the others looking as bad.”

Jameson called over a ranch hand, Frank, and they checked the calves’ body temperatures. They were running too hot. “Separate these two,” he told Frank. “And you know the rest.” Jameson and Frank knew they’d need to get the fluids the vet had provided to the calves quickly in order not to lose them.

“Brooke,” Jameson said with a note of apology. “We’ll talk about the studio later. Okay?”

“No problem.”

The following day the calves were doing much better, but Jameson’s mood hadn’t improved much. He kept thinking about Brooke checking the calf for dehydration. She’d sprung into action without him asking her or telling her what needed to be done. It had felt good to have her at his side...too good. He couldn’t afford to feel this way. He had to think business. He called his lawyer. “I need you to do something for me. Fast.”

The next day Jameson sat in Brooke’s front room with a legal prenuptial agreement and a pen ready. It was two days before their wedding, and he wanted to get something settled. “I need you to read this agreement, then sign,” he said more brusquely than he meant to.

Brooke lifted the papers. “What is it?”

“A business agreement. This will protect you as much as it does me.”

She set the papers down. “I don’t need to sign.”

“If you want this marriage to go through, you will.”

“I don’t want anything from you except to save my legacy.”

“Then sign and there won’t be a problem.” He knew that people’s intentions could change. He was sure she meant well now, but he’d been burned before, and he wouldn’t make the same mistake of trusting a woman twice. “This is strictly business. As your father stipulated in his will, we have to stay married for at least a year. After that we’ll part ways and you’ll get your ranch.”

“You certainly know how to make a girl feel wanted. I’ll sign, but you can’t keep treating our relationship this way.”

“What way?”

“Like we’re business colleagues.”

Jameson nodded, pleased with the description. “That’s essentially what we are.”

Brooke lowered her voice, although no one was around to overhear. “Only we know that, but others can’t think so. If I sign this, I need you to play the part of my husband. A devoted husband.”

Jameson shrugged with nonchalance. “I can do that.”

“Prove it.”

“I did. In the saloon—”

“You treated me like your kid sister,” Brooke interrupted. “Not your fiancée. Mitch is already laughing about how fake this engagement looks and he’s sharing his opinions. What does your family think?”

“I guess you have a point,” Jameson agreed with reluctance. “Okay. I promise I’ll play the role so you get to keep your family homestead.” He held the pen out.

Brooke shook her head. “I said prove it.”

Jameson looked around. “Why? Nobody’s watching.”

“Then it’s a good time to practice, don’t you think?”

“Practice what?”

“Being a husband.”

Jameson waved the pen. “And you won’t sign until I do?”

Brooke crossed her legs and sat back with a satisfied grin. “That’s right.”

“Quite a negotiation tactic, but you have a lot more to lose than I do.”

“I grew up with a rancher, I know that most things in life are a gamble. One just needs to weigh his or her options.”

“When you gamble you should make sure the odds are in your favor. What makes you think I’ll do what you ask? What will you do if I say no?”

Her grin widened. “You won’t.”

“You sound sure about that.”

“I am because I know you like a challenge as much as I do.”

Jameson raised his brows. “You think you know me well?”

“Am I right?”

He folded his arms. “Okay, so you want me to act like your husband?”

“Devoted,” Brooke added with emphasis. “Convince me that I’m yours.”

“That shouldn’t be hard.”

“Let me see you try.”

“I don’t ‘try.’ I succeed.”

“So far you’re all talk.”

“You’re right.”

Jameson didn’t move. His arms remained folded. He didn’t move closer, but the air suddenly became still and charged with an electric heat like the coming of lightning. Brooke felt her throat grow dry as his gaze lazily appraised her in a way that was both intimate and naughty. His eyes undressed her. She suddenly felt lightheaded. But just as quickly as the expression came it disappeared and his face turned into a bland mask.