The Texan's Bride

“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.