The Surprise Christmas Bride

“Like you, he’s been gone so long he wouldn’t know his own daughter. Unlike you, he wouldn’t care.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Among other things.”

Long silent minutes passed, and the only sounds were the rain drumming on the tiled roof and the snap and hiss of the fire. Finally Casey broke the tension-filled quiet.

“I don’t suppose you could give me a ride to town?”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

He frowned and shook his head. “Jeep’s broken down and my foreman used the pickup to take his wife dancing. From the looks of this storm, they probably won’t make it back until morning.”

She stared at him as if she couldn’t believe what he was saying. Well, he wasn’t thrilled with the situation, either. She would just have to get used to it.

“Surely you have more than one Jeep and one truck on a ranch this size.”

“Well, now,” he drawled deliberately, “I surely do, ma’am. But I’m afraid my city car wouldn’t fare any better than your car did in this mud.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Can this day possibly get any worse?” she muttered.

“It’s snowing,” he offered.

A short strangled laugh shot from her throat. “Of course it is.”

He watched her as she began to rub her hands briskly up and down her arms. As he stood there, a violent tremor rocked her. He felt like an idiot. While he was questioning her, she was no doubt catching pneumonia.

“You’re never going to warm up while you’re wearing that.”

Her perfectly arched brows lifted high on her forehead. “Why, Jake,” she said. “Are you trying to get me undressed?”

“Knock it off, Casey.” He headed for the stove where he picked up the teakettle and carried it to the sink. As he filled it with water, he told her, “We’ve known each other too long for this. Just get out of the damned dress. You know where the bathroom is. I’ll find you a robe or something.”

When the kettle was half-full, he carried it to the stove, slammed it down on one of the burners, then turned on the fire underneath it. Then he stomped out of the kitchen without waiting to see if she was following his orders. The truth was, he admitted silently, he sure as hell didn’t want to be anywhere near her when she started peeling off that dress. His little sister’s friend or not, what she was doing to him was downright dangerous.

He marched down the long hallway to his bedroom at the back of the sprawling adobe-and-wood house. Throwing the door open, he absently noted the crash as the heavy oak panel hit the wall. But he was on a mission. Find something concealing for her to wear. Yes, he thought. Definitely concealing.

A burlap bag with a matching hood should do the trick.

Unfortunately he told himself as he stepped into the bathroom and glared at the garment hanging from the hook on the back of the door, all he had was a terry-cloth robe.

And a short robe at that.

Doesn’t matter, he thought grimly. The important thing here was to get her dry. Then he’d dig out an old pair of sweats or something. Somehow, he had to survive the night, then get her the hell out of his life.

Again.

Clutching the robe in one fist, he marched back into his bedroom and came to a sudden stop at the foot of his bed.

In the past five years many things had changed. For one, he now slept in the master bedroom, not down the hall in the room where he’d grown up or even the guest house where he’d lived for a few years. He had changed most of the furnishings, painted the walls, installed new drapes. But the huge four-poster was the same. The same bed he’d slept in all his adult life.

And the same bed he’d found Casey in one night five long years ago.

Instantly the past was all around him, and he shuddered with the force of the memories.

There’d been a party in town. Casey’s brothers had thrown themselves a farewell get-together. Since the Oakeses were leaving Simpson for the relatively big city of Morgan Hill, they’d decided to stage one last event for their friends.

He had left the party early, hoping to find some peace and quiet before his parents and sister returned to the ranch. He’d been living in the guest house then. A consideration, his father’d called it. A necessity was how Jake had thought of it. Even though working the family ranch was all he’d ever wanted to do, a thirty-year-old man needed more privacy than living in his parents’ house could afford.

He’d walked through the dark guest house, not even bothering to turn on a lamp. In his mind, he could still hear the echo of his own footsteps in the empty rooms. He remembered feeling a little sorry for himself that the twins—and Casey—were moving away.

In his bedroom he’d plopped down onto the mattress to tug off his boots. He’d gotten one off and had just started on the other when her voice stopped him.

That so familiar voice had sounded different that night. Throaty, deep, filled with unspoken promises and just a quavering hint of nerves.

“I think you should know you are not alone.”

Three

Jake had jumped to his feet, taken two quick steps to the bedside table and fumbled for the lamp switch.

Soft light dazzled the darkness, spilling over the woman waiting in his bed. Propped up with pillows behind her back, Casey lay beneath the covers. The sheet-topped quilt folded neatly across her breasts, she displayed just enough creamy flesh to let him know she was naked.

Jake drew one long unsteady breath, then deliberately took a step away from the bed. “What are you up to?”

She looked at him, then let her gaze slide to one side nervously. “Jake, I—”

“How did you get in here?”

“Annie gave me a key.”

“Annie?” Damn, his little sister was in on this! Was this setup some kind of a joke? But no. Instinctively he knew that whatever else she was up to, Cassandra Oakes wasn’t kidding.

He flashed her another quick look and had to swallow back a groan. Her long blond hair lay across her shoulders and bare arms. Her green eyes shone with a passion he hadn’t expected and didn’t know quite how to handle.

Oh, he knew how he’d like to handle it. For months he’d been noticing his younger sister’s friend—much to his disgust. God, he’d known Casey since she was ten! She was just a kid. At least he’d always thought of her as one. And yet lately, every time she showed up at the Parrish ranch, he was drawn to her. He’d found himself looking for her, hoping to see her.

And that worried him.

Hell, he was thirty years old. He was ready to settle down. He’d been to college. He’d had a chance to taste the rest of the world and had finally realized that the life he wanted was here. On the ranch.

But Casey Oakes was only nineteen—and barely out of high school.