Mail-order bridegroom (4 page)

With that, he stomped through what remained of Grandmother Rose's flowerbed and climbed into his pickup. The engine started with a noisy roar and he gunned it, a rooster-tail of dirt and grass spraying up from beneath his rear wheels. They watched in silence as he disappeared down the dirt drive. A minute later all that remained of Bull's passing was a tiny whirlwind of dust, spinning lazily in the distance. Leah eyed it with a thoughtful frown.

Hunter slipped the rifle from her grasp and leaned it against the porch rail. 'Something you forgot to tell me?' he murmured sardonically.

She lifted her chin. 'There might be one or two minor details we didn't get around to discussing. Not that it's any concern of yours.'

'I don't agree. I suggest we go back inside and discuss those minor details/

'No!' She rounded on him. First Titus T., then Bull and now Hunter. This definitely wasn't her day. 'You know full well that there's nothing left to talk over. You want the ranch and I won't let you have it. Even if you were interested in responding to my ad—interested in marriage—I won't choose you for the position. How could you think I would?'

He raised an eyebrow. 'Position? I thought you wanted a husband.'

'That's right, I do. But since you aren't interested...' Fighting to keep the distress from her voice, she said, 'You've had your fun. So why don't you leave?'

He shook his head. 'We're not through with our conversation, and I'm not leaving until we are. If that means applying for your...position, then consider me applied.'

'Forget it. You don't qualify,' she insisted. 'That ends the conversation as far as I'm concerned.'

'I qualify, all right. On every point.'

She didn't want to continue with this charade but, aside from picking up her rifle and trying to force him off her property at gunpoint, she didn't see any other option available to her. Especially considering how far she'd gotten the last time she'd turned her rifle on him. 'Fine. You think you qualify? Then prove it,' she demanded.

'A challenge? Not a wise move, Leah, because once I've proven myself we'll finish that discussion.' He tilted his head to one side, his brow furrowed in thought. 'Let's see if I can get this right... Number one. You want a man between the ages of twenty-five and forty-five. No problem there.'

'You should have read the ad more carefully, Hunter! It says a kind and gentle man. You are neither kind nor gentle.'

His gaze, black and merciless, met hers. 'You'd do well to remember that.'

Tempted as she was, she didn't back down. 'I haven't forgotten. The ad also says applicants should be looking for a permanent type of relationship.' She shot him a skeptical glance. 'Don't tell me you're finally ready to settle down?'

'That isn't my first choice, no. But I'd consider it if the right offer came along. Number two. As I recall that concerns ranching experience.' He folded his arms across his chest. 'You planning to debate my qualifications there?'

She shook her head. After all, there was nothing to debate. 'I'll concede your ranching abilities,' she agreed.

A grim smile touched his mouth. 'You'll concede a hell of a lot more before we're finished. Number three. He should also have solid business skills—particularly those skills necessary to please a bullheaded banker.' He settled his hat lower on his forehead. 'You've tipped your hand with that one.'

'Have I?' Something about his attitude worried her. He acted as though this were all a game, as though she'd already lost the match but didn't yet know it. What she couldn't figure was... how? How could she lose a game that she wasn't even playing?

His smile turned predatory. 'You're having financial difficulties and the bank won't help without a man backing you. Close enough?'

She gritted her teeth. 'Close enough,' she forced herself to confess. 'But you aren't that man. End of discussion.'

'Far from it. There isn't a bank in the world who wouldn't back me.'

That gave her pause. 'Since when?'

He closed the distance between them, crowding her against the porch rail. 'It's been eight years since our last meeting. A lot has happened in that time. I'm not the poor ranch-hand you once knew. You need me, Leah. And soon—very soon—I'm going to prove it to you/

'I don't need you!' she denied passionately. Til never need you.'

'Yes, you will.' His voice dropped, the timbre soft and caressing, but his words were as hard and chipped as stone. 'Because you won't get any cooperation from the bank without me. I guarantee it. And by tomorrow you'll know it, too.'

She caught her breath. 'You can prove that?'

Til give you all the proof you need. Count on it.' He lowered his head, his mouth inches from hers. 'Seems I've qualified after all.'

She glared, slipping from between him and the rail. 'I disagree. You've already admitted that you aren't kind or gentle. And since that is one of the qualifications...' She shrugged. "Fraid I'll have to pass.'

'And I'm afraid I'll have to insist. In the business world all negotiations are subject to compromise. You'll have to compromise on "kind and gentle".'

'And what will you compromise about?' she shot back.

'If I can get away with it... nothing.' He edged his hip on to the rail and glanced at her. 'Tell me something, Leah. Why haven't you sold the ranch?'

She shifted impatiently. 'I think you can guess. Hampton Homestead has been in our family for '

'Generations. Yes, your father made that point quite clear. Along with the point that he wouldn't allow his ranch or his daughter to fall into the hands of some penniless mongrel whose bloodlines couldn't be traced past the orphanage where he'd been dumped.'

She stared at him, genuinely shocked. 'He said that to you?'

'He said it. But that's not the point. You're out of options, Leah. Soon you won't have any other alternative. My sources tell me that either you sell or you go bankrupt. At least if you sell you'll walk away with enough money to live in comfort.'

She lifted her chin. 'There is another alternative.'

His mouth twisted. 'The ad.'

'Don't look at me like that! It's not as foolish a decision as you might think. The banks will loan me the money I need to stay afloat if I have a husband who's both a businessman and a rancher.'

He stilled. 'They've guaranteed you the money?'

She shook her head. 'Not in writing, if that's what you mean. But Conrad Michaels is the senior loan officer and an old family friend. And, though he hasn't been in a position to help us in the past, he feels our business reversals are correctable, with some work. He's a bit... old-fashioned. It was his idea that I find an appropriate husband. He hasn't been able to get the loan committee to approve financing so far, but he's positive he can if I marry.'

She'd never seen Hunter look so furious. 'Are you telling me that this Michaels instructed you to advertise in the paper for a husband and you went along with his hare-brained notion?'

'It's not a hare-brained notion,' she protested. 'It's very practical. Conrad simply suggested I find a husband with the necessary qualifications as quickly as possible. Once I'd done that, he'd get the loan package put through.'

'He suggested that, did he? In his position as youi banker?' Hunter didn't bother to conceal his contempt. 'Did it ever occur to you he could have trouble living

up to that promise? He has a board of directors to answer to who might not agree with him any more now than before. And then where would you be? Bankrupt and married to some cowpoke who'll take whatever he can lay hands on and toss you over when the going gets tough.'

'You should know,' she shot back. 'You're a past master of that fine art.'

'Don't start something you can't finish, Leah,' he warned softly. 'I'm telling you—marry the next man who responds to your ad and you'll sacrifice everything and receive nothing but trouble.'

'You're wrong,' she said with absolute confidence. 'I have faith in Conrad. He'll put the loan through.'

She could tell Hunter didn't agree, but he kept his opinion to himself. 'What about the ad?' he asked.

'The ad was my idea. I needed results and I needed them fast.' She folded her arms across her chest in perfect imitation of his stance. 'And I got them.'

He laughed without amusement. 'If you got "kind and gentle" I'm less than impressed.'

'It's not you who has to be impressed,' she retorted defensively. 'It's Conrad whose approval I need.'

'I don't doubt your banker friend will make sure your prospective husband is qualified as a rancher and a businessman,' he stated with marked disapproval. 'But what about as a husband and lover? Who's going to make sure he qualifies in that area?' Hunter's voice dropped, the sound rough and seductive. '"Kind and gentle" couldn't satisfy you in bed in a million years.'

She silently cursed the color surging into her cheeks. 'That's the least of my concerns.'

'You're right. It will be.' He regarded her with derision. 'Is that how you see married life? A sterile part-

nership with a husband who hasn't a clue how to please his wife?'

Images leapt to her mind, images of the two of them entwined beneath an endless blue sky, their clothes scattered haphazardly around them, their nudity cloaked by thick, knee-high grass. She resisted the seductive pull of the memory. She couldn't afford to remember those times, couldn't afford to risk her emotions on something so fleeting and uncertain... nor so painful. Not if she intended to save the ranch.

'That's not important,' she stated coldly. 'Conrad has promised that if I marry someone the bank considers a sound businessman and rancher, I'll get my loan. And that's what I intend to do. Period. End of discussion. I'm keeping this ranch even if it means accepting the first qualified man who walks through my door. And nothing you say or do will change that.'

'I've got news for you. I am the first qualified man to walk through your door. The first and the last.' He reached into his pocket and retrieved a business card. 'Perhaps you'd better know who you're up against.'

'No, let me tell you who you're up against,' she retorted, almost at the end of her rope. 'That huge company I mentioned—Lyon Enterprises—is after this ranch. And they'll use any means necessary to acquire it. You've met Bull Jones. He's encouraged almost all my workers to leave with exorbitant bribes. Nor was I kidding when I accused him of cutting my fences and stampeding my herd and fouling the wells. The man I marry will have to contend with that.' She planted her hands on her hips. 'Well, Hunter? Maybe now that you have all the facts in your possession you'll decide to get out of my life. Just be sure that when you do, you make it for good.'

His eyes narrowed and, in a move so swift she didn't see it coming, he caught her by the elbows and swung her into his arms. She slammed into him, the breath knocked from her lungs. 'Don't threaten me, Leah. You won't like the results,' he warned curtly. 'Give it to me straight. Are you really being harassed, or is this another of your imaginative little fantasies?'

This time she didn't even try to fight his hold. She'd learned the hard way how pointless it would be. 'It's no fantasy! You saw a prime example today. Or ask my foreman. Patrick will tell you. He's one of the few they haven't managed to run off.'

His eyes glittered with barely suppressed wrath and a frown slashed deep furrows across his brow. Without releasing her, he tucked his business card back into his pocket. 'You're serious, aren't you?'

She nodded. 'Dead serious.'

'You're also serious about marrying, even if it means losing the ranch?'

'I am.'

'In that case you're down to one option.'

She sighed, weary of their argument. 'I told you. I'm not selling.'

'No, you're not. You're going to marry me.'

If he hadn't been holding her, she would have fallen. 'What?' she whispered, unable to hide her shock.

'You heard me. We'll marry and I'll see to it that you get your loan.'

She stared at him in bewilderment, the fierce determination she read there filling her with a sense of unease. 'You said... I thought you didn't want to marry me.'

'It wasn't my first choice, no,' he agreed. 'But the more I consider the idea, the greater the appeal.'

She caught her breath. 'That's the most insulting offer I've ever heard.'

4 Count on it,' he said with a grim smile. 'I can get much more insulting than that/

'I wouldn't advise it,' she snapped back. 'Not if you'd like me to accept/

He inclined his head, but whether in acknowledgement or concurrence she wasn't quite clear. An endless moment stretched between them, a moment where they fought a silent battle of wills. It wasn't an even match. Slowly, Leah lowered her eyes. 'You agree,' Hunter stated in satisfaction.

'I didn't say that.' She stalled for time—not that it would help. Exhaustion dogged her heels, making it impossible to think straight. She needed time alone, time to consider, time to put all he'd told her into perspective. But she strongly suspected she wouldn't be given that time. 'What about the bank? Can you guarantee I'll get the loan?'

His expression hardened. 'I have some small influence. I'm not the poor, mixed-breed cur I was eight years ago.'

'I never saw you that way,' she reacted instantly, despising the crude comparison. 'And if my father did, he was wrong.'

He shrugged off her rejoinder. 'What's your decision, Leah?'

This time she did try and free herself. Not that she succeeded. 'What's your rush?' she asked. His touch grew gentle, soothing rather than restraining, at striking odds with his clipped tone. Had he decided an illusion of tenderness might better influence her? If so, he'd soon discover his mistake.

'I don't want anyone else coming along messing up my deal. You have twenty-four hours to make up your mind. Sell the ranch to me or marry me; I don't give a damn which. Because I know it all, Leah,' he informed

her tautly. 'I've had your financial situation investigated. You're broke. Without a loan you'll go bankrupt. And without me you won't get that loan.'

She caught her breath in disbelief. 'I don't believe you!'