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  “Of course,” he answered as he held her chair.

  When they were seated and had given their dinner orders, Mike studied her. “Now, tell me more about you and Stallion Pass, Texas. You don’t seem like the small-town type.”

  “I’m very much the small-town type. I love Stallion Pass. John Frates’s family businesses have really made Stallion Pass the town it is. Well, there are other businesses and families that contribute to it, but the Frateses did a lot. He had the oil company, Frates Oil, which he sold last year. He remained as CEO so they will simply replace him, and that wasn’t part of the will. He had the home that you received, the quarter-horse ranch and the cattle ranch—”

  “Two ranches?”

  She gave him a quizzical look. “Didn’t you listen as I read the will?”

  “Actually, no,” Mike admitted. “After you announced I was inheriting a kid, I went into shock and didn’t hear anything more you read. I wouldn’t even think that kind of thing’s legal.”

  “Of course it’s legal to appoint a guardian. John might not have told you about it, but I know he intended to.”

  “Well, tell me what the other guys got, then. Did it occur to you that one of them might take little Jessie?”

  “We’ll get to that,” she said, her cool, I’m-in-charge voice returning. “Jonah Whitewolf got the cattle ranch. He can do with it whatever he wants—sell it, keep it or lease it.”

  “I’d guess Jonah will sell it. John Frates should have discussed all this with us in more detail.”

  “I don’t think he dreamed that anything would happen to both him and his wife. Boone Devlin inherits the quarter-horse ranch—it’s famous nationwide for its horses.”

  Mike shook his head. “Boone and a horse ranch. He grew up on a farm and wanted to get away from it. The flyboy is nuts about planes. He won’t leave his air-charter service. John Frates should have talked to all of us and talked to others who would have been better choices for these inheritances.”

  “Once again, you’re making snap judgments.”

  “Maybe, but I know these guys as well as I know myself. We knew Frates was worth a lot, but not this much.”

  “The Frates family was enormously wealthy, and when John sold the oil company, he received a lot more.” She leaned forward, candlelight flickering in the depths of her eyes. For an instant, Mike was drowning in blue. His gaze lowered to her mouth, and he wondered if there was a woman beneath all that pushy, do-it-my-way exterior. What was she like in a man’s arms? He leaned closer.

  “Ever been in love, Counselor?”

  If the question surprised her, she hid it well. She gave him a smile. “Maybe once in college, but not since.”

  “No steady guy now?”

  “No,” she replied, looking amused. “Going to ask me for a date?”

  He smiled at her, and they both laughed. “I didn’t think so,” she said. She caught his wrist and the touch was electrifying to him. He took a deep breath, surprised at his reaction.

  “Tell me something.”

  “Whatever you want to know,” he said in a husky voice, beginning to wonder what it would be like to have a real date with her.

  Those blue eyes nailed him. “If John Frates had called you and asked if you would be little Jessie’s guardian, what answer would you have given him?”

  Startled, all Mike’s erotic thoughts vanished. He was staring into eyes that probed, accused and demanded an answer. What if John Frates had called and asked him to take his baby?

  “I can’t answer that, because he didn’t call,” Mike replied.

  “You won’t answer my question because if her father had called and asked you, you would have agreed to become her guardian,” Savannah said in a voice dripping with satisfaction.

  “I damn well would not have,” he snapped, moving his wrist away from her grasp and leaning back in his chair. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Are you a trial lawyer?”

  “Occasionally,” she answered, and Mike could imagine her nailing a witness and using that same satisfied tone. She looked down at her purse and whipped out the picture again. “Look at this little baby. How can you refuse? You would have all the money in the world and could hire five nannies for her if you wanted.”

  “You think a dad who hands a baby over to nannies all the time is better than a foster home?”

  “Yes! In foster care, she’d be shuffled around. If you had her, you’d care and you’d be responsible,” Savannah answered heatedly, her eyes flashing. “Underneath that selfish exterior, there must be some heart—John saw that in you. I’ve known John all my life, and he was a good man and a very smart man. He didn’t misjudge people.”

  “Give it up, Counselor. I’m not taking that baby,” Mike replied, wondering how many times he was going to have to refuse.

  Savannah put away the picture and leaned back while he drank some wine. He wished he had ordered something stronger. When their dinners came, he ate golden, cheese-covered lasagna in silence, thankful she had stopped badgering him but still annoyed with her for calling him selfish.

  As soon as they finished, she picked up the check and drove him to his hotel.

  “You gave it your best shot,” he said before he stepped out of the car. “Sorry, but you can do something else with that inheritance.”

  “It’s not that simple. Can you come by my office in the morning while we work out details?”

  “Sure.” He sat staring at her, thinking she was a beautiful woman sitting only a couple of feet away. His gaze dropped to her mouth, but he knew better than to try a kiss. “Night, Counselor.”

  “I don’t know how you’ll be able to sleep, or even look at yourself in the mirror.”

  “I’ll sleep just fine, thank you. Do you always butt into people’s lives like this?” he asked.

  “Of course not—this is a big exception,” she said, studying him intently. “I still think John saw something in you that I’m not seeing.”

  “I hauled his ass out of the jungle—it was a job. The man was grateful to have his life back, but gratitude can blind people.”

  “Not John. He told me about spending weeks with you guys because the escape didn’t go as planned. He said that, in the life-threatening circumstances all of you were in, you really get to know someone. He said he knew he could depend on you completely.”

  “Well, too bad he’s not here to know how much I’ve let him down. Good night and start thinking of someone else for that particular inheritance.”

  He climbed out of the car and closed the door, leaning down to speak to her through the open window. “Thanks for dinner.”

  She glared at him, put the car in gear and drove away. He stared after her and still wondered what it would be like to kiss her. His flight back to D.C. didn’t leave until three o’clock tomorrow afternoon, but when it did, he would be on it, and he wasn’t coming back to Stallion Pass or San Antonio, Texas, again. He had to see the lady lawyer one more time and then it was goodbye forever.

  Savannah took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and trying to cool her anger. “Stubborn, selfish man!” she snarled aloud, gritting her teeth and thinking about the adorable little five-month-old girl who needed a guardian. Savannah glanced in her rearview mirror and saw Mike Remington walking into his hotel. Too handsome for words. She hated to acknowledge that, but he exuded sex appeal with his rugged good looks, raven hair and thickly lashed, dark-brown bedroom eyes. He had too much confidence, and she suspected he was accustomed to having women melt whenever he was around. A few times tonight when they’d touched, she’d hated that she’d gone all tingly; she hoped she’d been able to hide it well. She didn’t want him to make her tingly. She wished to remain aloof and frosty with him, so why hadn’t she?

  There had to be a way to persuade Mike Remington to take Jessie. John Frates was never off the mark in his assessment of other people—not like this. John had seen something in the man that had made him think Mike was the right man to take responsibility for lit
tle Jessie.

  Whatever John had seen, Savannah knew she wasn’t finding it. Mike Remington seemed almost hostile, and totally wrapped up in himself and his own life. He wasn’t going to be charitable or generous. And he was going to walk away from a million-dollars-plus inheritance. What kind of man did that? She couldn’t figure him out at all. She knew what John had said about him—that he was tough, fearless and intelligent. Now she could add selfish and stubborn to the list. Yet, how many truly selfish people would pass on a million and a third dollars?

  Of the three men in her office this afternoon, Mike Remington seemed the least likely man to be the guardian of a child.

  Maybe when Mike slept on it, he would change his mind. She knew better than to really believe that, though.

  Savannah drove to the redbrick condo she owned in San Antonio. On weekends she went home to Stallion Pass, but during the week, it was easier to stay in the city.

  She parked in her garage and entered through the back door, going in the short entryway to her kitchen. As she got herself a glass of water, she paced around her empty, lonely kitchen. She finally set her empty glass on the tile counter and went through the living room to her bedroom. As she readied herself for bed, her mind was still on Mike Remington. She couldn’t seem to get him or the problem out of her thoughts.

  An hour later she sat up in a rumpled bed, staring into the dark and still thinking about Mike and Jessie. She had been conscious of Mike as an attractive man from the start. When she’d touched him, she’d felt the shock of that contact to her toes. She suspected he had that effect on most females.

  She’d told him she needed to see him again, but that had been desperation talking. She prayed she could get the state caseworker to cooperate tomorrow. Surely there was some way to melt Mike Remington’s hard heart.

  As Savannah sat there in the dark, she was chilled by a deep, unsettling hurt that she hadn’t experienced in years, and she knew what was making her fight so hard for little Jessie.

  She recalled her family, her mother and father, her six siblings. All of them, except the three youngest children, were adopted. When she was four, her blood father had walked out. Then when she was five, her mother had abandoned her, as well, sending her to a neighbor’s house and not coming back for her. That old hurt had dimmed, but she could remember the incredible pain and panic, the shock. The number of foster families she had been shuffled through for more than a year and a half—until Amy and Matt had adopted her and taken her into an unbelievably warm and loving home. Savannah shivered and rubbed her arms until old fears and hurts vanished.

  In spite of trying to put Jessie and Colonel Remington out of her mind, Savannah slept little and was up before the sun.

  Bathed and dressed for work by eight o’clock, she studied herself in the mirror as she smoothed her navy suit. She wore simple pearl earrings and a pearl necklace. Her hair was in a twist on her head. She thought she looked quite businesslike. Her thoughts jumped to Mike and the way he’d looked at her yesterday when she’d taken her hair down and removed her suit jacket. Her pulse jumped at the memory and she frowned, shaking her head. Glancing at the clock, she rushed to the phone to call the caseworker. Savannah knew it was only two hours till her appointment with Mike Remington. This would be her last chance with him, so she needed to make it count.

  Two

  M ike showered, dressed in a navy sport shirt and jeans, then went downstairs to meet his friends in the hotel lobby. He spotted the two tall men the instant he stepped out of the elevator. After greeting one another, they went to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. It wasn’t until they’d ordered that the talk turned to their respective legacies, Mike’s in particular.

  “So how’s it feel to suddenly become a father?” Jonah asked.

  Mike shook his head and met Jonah’s gaze squarely. “I’m not going to do it.”

  “You’re turning down your bequest?” Boone asked in disbelief.

  “I can’t take care of a baby,” Mike said. “Maybe one of you guys?”

  “What? Swap inheritances?” Boone’s eyes danced with amusement. “I don’t think the lady lawyer would go for that. She’s all business.”

  “She’s as tough as my dad,” Jonah remarked dryly. “No messing with her.”

  “Well, count me out, anyway,” Boone said as he leaned back in his seat. “I’ve been there and done that with my kid brothers and sisters. No thank you.”

  “Boone, you’re the oldest of nine. You’d be perfect.”

  “The hell you say!” Boone snapped. “No more changing diapers for me. I’ve been a daddy eight times. Forget it.”

  “How about you?” Mike asked, looking at Jonah.

  Jonah shook his head. “I’m going home to Oklahoma, and from there I’ve got to go overseas in four days. Besides, the thought of a ranch is kinda intriguing.”

  “What do you know about ranching?” Boone teased. “Next to nothing.”

  “Not exactly. My granddaddy had a ranch and I lived with him off and on when I was a kid. Besides, ranching runs in my Comanche blood,” Jonah replied with a grin of his own.

  “Oh, sure,” Boone said with a brief laugh, shifting his attention back to Mike. “Looks like you’re stuck, pal. Sorry.”

  “I’ll get out of it,” Mike said grimly, more of a promise to himself than his buddies.

  “And give up all that money?”

  “The money’s not worth it. I’ll make my own money.”

  The waiter brought their breakfasts, and Mike looked at his friends. Jonah was the same as the last time Mike had seen him, except it was only April and already the sun had darkened his skin considerably. His straight black hair was cut short and neatly combed, and the T-shirt he wore revealed powerful muscles, proving that Jonah was still in top physical form. As for Boone, his skin was darkened, too, by the sun, and gone was his shaggy brown hair. Although still thick and wavy, it had been trimmed considerably, well above his collar.

  “Where are you working now, Jonah?”

  “Okmulgee Oil. I’m two weeks in an Algerian oilfield, two weeks home.”

  “So you’re finally using that engineering degree,” Boone said.

  “I used it in the military. Engineering is a good background for defusing bombs. Better than a marketing degree. So what are you doing, Boone?” Jonah asked.

  Boone grinned. “I live about twenty miles out of Kansas City, Missouri, and have my own charter service. I fly everywhere and anywhere.”

  “You couldn’t give it up, could you,” Jonah said. “Are you still in, Mike?”

  “Nope. I got out two months ago. I’ve got an offer from the CIA and I plan to take it. I’m living in D.C. now. So, is anybody married?”

  His two buddies looked at each other, but Mike saw the flash of pain in Jonah’s eyes and guessed that he still hadn’t gotten over his divorce. His marriage had ended while they were all in the service together.

  “Remember that night in Fort Lauderdale?” Boone said to break the sudden pall in the mood, and in minutes they were reminiscing about those times. They continued until Mike realized he would have to hurry to make his ten o’clock appointment with Savannah Clay.

  “Guys, I gotta run.”

  “I’ll get the check. I certainly can afford it with my newfound fortune,” Boone announced. “The famous quarter-horse ranch that I intend to sell.”

  “Thanks, Boone.” Mike pulled out a card. “Here’s my address in D.C. and my home and cell-phone numbers. Let’s keep in touch this time. If any of you are around the hotel at lunchtime, let’s get together.” The men agreed and Mike hurried outside to get a valet to bring his rental car.

  Minutes later, he was striding toward Savannah Clay’s office. He had dreamed unwanted dreams about her last night. Enticing dreams where she had been soft, willing and sexy in his arms. In real life, she was none of the above, he reminded himself. Instantly, he had to admit that his assessment was unfair. She probably was soft and sexy. Willing, on the other ha
nd, with him never. When he opened the office door, the brunette receptionist flashed him a smile.

  “Good morning, Colonel Remington. Miss Clay is expecting you. I’ll tell her you’re here, if you’ll please be seated.”

  He sat in a brown, leather chair and moments later, the receptionist said, “Go on in. First door—”

  “On the right,” he finished, smiling at her. He reached the open door and was struck again by Savannah’s beauty, restrained by her businesslike demeanor. She was standing in front of her desk, dressed in a tailored navy suit and navy blouse, her hair once again in a twist at the back of her head. But he remembered that cascade of silky, golden hair and the figure beneath the tailored suit jacket. Her skirt ended just above her knees, giving him a good view of her long legs.

  She met his eyes and his pulse speeded up a notch. “Colonel Remington,” she said politely, smiling at him. “Come in.” She took his arm and wound it through hers, standing with their shoulders and hips touching, so close to him that he could feel her warmth. He could smell her perfume and was as dazzled by her as if he were fifteen years old again with a first crush.

  Suddenly he became aware that they weren’t the only people in the room. “Mike,” she said, “I want you to meet Melanie Bradford, Jessie’s caseworker.”

  He turned to shake hands with a brown-haired, fortyish woman, then stopped. The woman was holding a baby.

  “And this is Jessie,” Savannah announced, taking the baby and placing her swiftly in his arms.

  Startled, he looked down at the baby he held so awkwardly. Big blue eyes gazed up at him as she pursed her rosebud mouth. She was soft, sweet-smelling and dressed in a frilly pink dress with a tiny pink hair bow in her wispy brown curls. She waved a fist at him.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Melanie Bradford said to him. “If you two will excuse me a moment, I need to call my office.” When she left the room, Savannah closed the door behind her and leaned against it.