*****
Claire watched the approaching man. Tall, dark and dangerous, Race Reed bore down on her with determined resolve. Despite his odd name, this man was no cartoon character. He stopped next to her outside table at Max's Cafe, downtown Council Falls, and scowled down at her. Several patrons glanced over in typical small town curiosity, but quickly turned their attention back to their meals when he glared at them.
Hardly the friendly sort, with his bronzed skin, black shoulder length hair, piercing dark eyes and rugged features, he looked more like he was about to give a Comanche war cry and take a few scalps than sit down and propose marriage.
With a small shudder, Claire ducked her head and let her brown hair veil her expression from his probing eyes. She couldn't marry this man. He was just too much. Too dark, unlike the rest of the blond-haired, blue-eyed Reeds. Too tall. Too broad. Too forceful. Just too male, a niggling voice of honesty forced her to admit. Summoning her courage, she lifted her head and met his questioning gaze.
Some of the hostility had faded from his look and stance. With a small crooked smile teasing the corners of his mouth, he appeared less intimidating, almost handsome in a craggy way. Her own lips started to curve into an answering smile. She stiffened. He'd recognized her instinctive fear of his blatant masculinity and it amused him. Anger banished fear.
She stood and stuck out her hand. "Claire Jensen. Won't you join me?"
Race's grip was warm and firm, but not painful. His large hand swallowed hers. The calluses roughening his palms and fingers abraded her softer flesh and sent a shiver of foreboding through her. This man was no stranger to hard physical labor and he knew how to hold what was his. Still, he didn't try and retain her hand when she jerked it free.
"Race Reed. Pleased to meet you."
His tone indicated the opposite, but he pulled out her seat, and then straddled a chair across from her. The sight of his jean-clad thighs spread wide to accommodate the chair back caused Claire's mouth to go dry. She swallowed and forced her gaze back to his face.
"Do you think this is really the best place to discuss our business?" He looked around at the other patrons busy trying to appear like they weren't straining to hear this conversation. "My truck is parked over there. We can go to my place for a bit more privacy."
Heat flooded under Claire's skin at the thought of what this man could do with her in private. Pale skin glowing against dark in a dim room. Cool, moist lips soothing heated flesh. She blinked and shook off the tantalizing images. Where had they come from? Sex hadn't been, wasn't, and couldn't be a priority in her life. She had to think of Bobbie Sue not her underdeveloped libido.
"No," she stammered. "No. This is fine." It wasn't really. She wasn't any more eager to run the risk of others finding out about this arrangement than he was. Adopting Bobbie Sue depended on convincing the court that she was emotionally, socially, and financially capable of caring for a child. A marriage of convenience to a complete stranger wasn't likely to provide that proof. But being alone with Race in his home didn't seem wise either. Despite being a Reed, which somewhat vouched for his character, she didn't know him.
"How 'bout we drive out to the Falls? Any eavesdroppers will have a hard time hearing over the roar."
"Alright." This time of day the Falls would be loaded with picnickers and tourists. She stood and reached for the check.
Race beat her to it, dropped a couple of bills on the table and took her arm. The warmth of his grip soaked through her thin blouse, but didn't touch the chill growing in her heart.
Race handled his oversized pickup truck like a race car, careening over and around the hilly, curving road at a speed that left Claire's heart and stomach behind and made conversation impossible. By the grim look on his face, she knew any objections would be unwelcome, so she bit her lip and held tight to the door.
Though the grassy area bordering the picturesque falls was crowded with picnickers, like Race said, the constant roar of water drowned out conversations more than a few feet away. On the old blanket he provided from the bed of his truck, Claire sat and curled her bare legs beneath her. While the glare of the June sun beat on her head, the spray from the falls felt cool and refreshing against her skin, almost like she imagined a lover's caress would feel.
Since her arrival in Council Falls two years ago, this had become one of her favorite places. During the summer months, the sparkling fall of water over rocks and the dense green woods that surrounded the twisting flow of the Council River reminded her of the tropics where she'd spent her childhood days. But even when winter settled in, and all but a trickle of water froze she loved the tranquility.
Race folded himself down onto the blanket, which suddenly seemed to shrink in size. She started to scoot away, but at his knowing look forced herself to remain still.
"So, are you going to marry me?" he asked.
Blunt was understating Race's manner. The hint of uncertainty in his voice lightened some of Claire's unease and relit her natural sense of humor. He wasn't as sure of himself as he appeared. "If this is how you go about finding a bride, no wonder you need to enlist your grandmother to find candidates."
"Damn her! She didn't tell you the whole of it, did she?" He ran a bronzed hand around the back of his neck, and then lifted his head to stare straight at her. "I'm not looking for a bride. I'm looking for a wife. A woman to be the mother of my baby."
"B-baby?" Claire sputtered. "Nothing was said about a baby." She edged back on the blanket, prepared to bolt if he made any sudden moves.
Damn! Race thought. He'd handled that badly. Why had he said it, when he had no intention of participating in Grandmere's bizarre baby race? "Relax. I'm not going to jump you."
"I think you'd better explain." Hands clenched in her lap, she sat up straight and watched him as if he'd just escaped from a mental institution. And if he was seriously considering going through with this mad charade, maybe he had.
Race took a deep breath. "It's a bit complicated. You know I own the ranch out at the edge of town where I take in abused horses and rehabilitate them, then find them new homes. Well, most of my funds come from private donations and fund raisers I hold. Next spring my balloon payment comes due and there's no way I'll be able to make it."
"What in heaven's name does this have to do with having a baby?"
"Be patient. You also know my grandmother, Amelia Reed?"
"Yes, we've met. An interesting woman."
"That's an understatement. Grandmere practically controls Council Falls. Recently, she decided she's getting old. Old? Hell, at 75 the woman runs rings about most people. She wants to guarantee that the Reed name continues. So she's come up with a crazy contest. The first of her grandsons to marry and produce a son will collect a substantial cash prize. With it I could pay off the ranch."
"You're willing to father a child to win some money?"
Race didn't know why her disapproval stung. "No, of course not."
"You don't want to get married?"
She sounded disappointed. Why? "What I want doesn't matter. I need to get married."
"Now, I'm thoroughly confused." She shook her head and sun-streaked, coffee-colored hair danced around her small elfin face. Humor glinted in the warm brown eyes that met his gaze steadily. Her calm acceptance of the strange situation gave him the courage to continue.
"Grandmere is also offering each of us a cash bonus when we marry, as well as the larger prize for the first great-grandson. I intend to collect the bonus, pay off my ranch and ignore Grandmere's baby race."
"I see." Her head dipped forward, her hair shielding her face.
Did she? Race doubted it. How could she, when he didn't? His fingers itched to push aside that silky veil and read her feelings in her expressive eyes.
"Surely there's a woman in your life whom you'd rather marry than a stranger?"
"No. There's no one. I don't want a wife or family. Grandmere's marriage bonus only stipulates we have to remain married for a year. Aft
er that, we'd divorce and go our separate ways."
"And what do I get out of this arrangement?"
The mercenary question bothered him, but what did he expect? He was basically buying a wife. Of course she'd want something in return for her time and effort. Love had nothing to do with this arrangement. "You're trying to adopt your stepsister, right?"
She nodded.
"I'd play the part of the supportive husband for the social worker. And after the divorce, I'd provide you with a cash settlement. In addition, I make a comfortable living from my saddle making business. Not enough to pay off my loan, but enough to provide you with a small monthly income until you get on your feet."
For a long moment she looked out over the river. Race couldn't see her face, but the rigid set of her slender shoulders telegraphed her tension. Then she turned toward him and met his gaze. "Write out the agreement. I'll marry you."
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elysa Hendricks is 5'6" tall. She has curly hair and brown eyes. She's an author, a wife, a mother and a daughter. Everything else is subject to change without notice. She loves hearing from readers and other authors, so visit her at her web site:
https://www.elysahendricks.com
or on Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Elysa-Hendricks-Author/137316289643103
COUNTERFEIT LOVE
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Western Historical Romance
HER WILD TEXAS HEART
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THE SWORD AND THE PEN
Contemporary Fantasy Romance
THE BEAST WITHIN
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Coming Soon:
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