Pregnant by the Texan

Pregnant by the Texan
Sara Orwig

“You’re a wicked influence, Aaron,”

she said mischievously, for the first time sounding as if she had let down her guard with him.

“Wicked is more fun, and you know you agree,” Aaron said softly, standing close in front of her. “I’ll show you tonight when we’re together.”

“Oh, no, you won’t. I don’t need you to show me one thing. We’ll have dinner, talk a little and say good night. That’s the agenda. Got it?”

“Oh, I have an agenda. I had it the moment I walked through the door and saw you sitting there with Cole. My agenda is to get you to take down your hair.”

“Amazing. One of my goals is to keep my hair pinned up, so one of us is going to fail completely,” she said, her blue eyes twinkling.

Eager to be with her for the whole evening, to flirt and dance and hopefully kiss, he leaned a bit closer. “If I placed my fingers on your throat, I’ll bet I’d feel your pulse racing. You want the same thing I do.”

* * *

Pregnant by the Texan is a Texas Cattleman’s Club: After the Storm novel—As a Texas town rebuilds, love heals all wounds …

Pregnant by the Texan

Sara Orwig

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

SARA ORWIG lives in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere, from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara has written historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.

With a big thank-you to Stacy Boyd, Harlequin Desire Senior Editor, and Charles Griemsman, Harlequin Desire Series Editorial.

Also, with love to my family.

Contents

Cover (#u3f5fa118-2fb0-505f-80c8-52dc3b5087cb)

Introduction (#uc5c01564-7547-514e-abd6-e3153ce68ae8)

Title Page (#u0f78ef7e-7fca-5bdd-a7ff-288bd3681250)

About the Author (#u0994bd25-e2ac-547e-8974-d58ebeb1cee3)

Dedication (#ube04b570-7f49-5cc6-92bd-18234ae1bfba)

One (#ulink_37cdec27-c8b8-521b-aee8-b2428b1ba089)

Two (#ulink_94938eb4-e63c-57ea-b973-6506a6edf84b)

Three (#ulink_3c762ad2-4632-56d1-842a-cd95b8a9db9c)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

One (#ulink_238b04e0-32e8-5704-a45f-6693251b02f8)

Early in December as the private jet came in for a landing, Aaron Nichols looked below. Even though the tornado had hit two months earlier, the west side of Royal, Texas, still looked unrecognizable.

No matter how many times he had gone back and forth between Dallas and Royal, he was shocked by the destruction when he returned to Royal. The cleanup had commenced shortly after the storm, but the devastation had been too massive to get the land cleared yet. Hopefully, he and his partner, Cole Richardson, could find additional ways for R&N Builders to help in the restoration. As he looked at the debris—the broken lumber, bits and pieces of wood and metal, a crumpled car with the front half torn away—he thought of the lives wrecked and changed forever. It was a reminder of his own loss over seven years ago that had hit as suddenly as a storm: a car accident, and then Paula and seventeen-month-old Blake were gone. With time the pain had dulled, but it never went away and in moments like this when he had a sharp reminder, the hurt and memories hit him with a force that sometimes made him afraid his knees would buckle.

Realizing his fists were doubled, his knuckles white, he tried to relax, to shift his thoughts elsewhere. He remembered the day in October when he had met Stella Daniels during the cleanup effort. He thought of their one night together and his desire became a steady flame.

He hoped he would see her on this trip, although since their encounter, he had followed her wishes and refrained from calling her to go out again. The agreement to avoid further contact hadn’t stopped him from thinking about her.

At the time he and Stella parted ways, he expected it to be easy. In the seven years since he lost his wife and baby son, women had come and gone in his life, but he had never been close to any of them. Stella had been different because he hadn’t been able to walk away and forget her.

He settled in the seat as the plane approached the small Royal airport. Royal was a West Texas town of very wealthy people—yet their wealth hadn’t been enough to help them escape the whirlwind.

Almost an hour later he walked into the dining room at the Cozy Inn, his gaze going over the quiet room that was almost empty because of the afternoon hour. He saw the familiar face of Cole Richardson, whose twin, Craig, was one of the storm’s fatalities. A woman was seated near Cole. Aaron’s heart missed a beat when he saw the brown hair pulled back severely into a bun. He could remember taking down that knot of hair and watching it fall across her bare shoulders, transforming her looks. Stella Daniels was with Cole. Aaron almost whispered “My lucky day” to himself.

Eagerness to see her again quickened his step even though it would get him nowhere with her. He suspected when she decided something, she stuck by her decision and no one could sway her until she was ready to change. Her outfit—white cotton blouse buttoned to her throat and khaki slacks with practical loafers—was as severe and plain as her hairdo. She wore almost no makeup. Few men would look twice at her and he wondered whether she really cared. Watching her, a woman who appeared straitlaced and plain, Aaron couldn’t help thinking that the passionate night they’d had almost seemed a figment of his imagination.

As Aaron approached them, Cole stood and Stella glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze met Aaron’s and her big blue eyes widened slightly, a look of surprise forming on her face, followed by a slight frown that was gone in a flash.

He reached Cole and held out his hand. “Hi, Cole. Have a seat.”

“Aaron, good to see you,” Cole said. Looking ready for construction work, he wore one of his T-shirts with the red, white and blue R&N Builders logo printed across the front. “You know Stella Daniels.”

Bright, luminous eyes gazed at him as he took her hand in his. Her hand was slender, warm, soft, instantly stirring memories of holding her in his arms.

“Oh, yes,” he answered. “Hi, Stella,” he said, his voice changing slightly. “We’ve met, but if we hadn’t, anyone who watches television news would recognize you. You’re still doing a great job for Royal,” he said, and she smiled.

One of the administrative assistants at town hall, Stella had stepped in, taking charge after the storm and trying to help wherever she could. It hadn’t taken long for reporters to notice her and start getting her on camera.

Aaron shed his leather jacket and sat across from Cole, aware of Stella to his left. He caught a whiff of the rose-scented perfume she wore, something old-fashioned, but it was uniquely Stella and made him remember holding her close, catching that same scent then.

“I’m glad to have you back in Royal,” Cole said. He looked thinner, more solemn, and Aaron was saddened by Cole’s loss as well as the losses of so many others in town. He knew from experience how badly it could hurt.