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Texas-Sized Temptation
Sara Orwig
Star of His Heart
Brenda Jackson

www.millsandboon.co.uk
Texas-Sized Temptation
Sara Orwig
Jake built a fire in the fireplace and then sat beside Caitlin. Close.
Handing her drink to her, he brushed her hand lightly. The physical contact, while so slight, burned. Soft, warm skin. A startling awareness that increased his desire.
She smiled at him. “Thank you. We’re having quite a storm. There won’t be any going home the way I came. This kind of downpour gets the river spilling out of its banks.”
She slanted him a look that was hot. He wondered if it was deliberate. Maybe he shouldn’t be so hasty in getting rid of her.
While he had no intention of selling any part of the Santerre ranch back to her, how far would she go to try to convince him to do so?
“We have plenty of room,” he said in a husky voice. “You can stay all night.”
Dear Reader,
Our lives are interwoven with our families and as the years pass, no one can predict outcomes. Falling in love involves two people, but their relationship is also affected by the influence of family, which I like to include in my stories.
Family has always been important in my life, and it is consequential in my books. This time it is the world of Jake Benton, a cowboy CEO, a multi-millionaire mogul who loves his West Texas cattle ranch and a cowboy’s life. He never expects to cross paths with his beautiful neighbor. Their sizzling attraction plays havoc with bitter feelings from generations of feuding between their families.
Against the backgrounds of Dallas, a West Texas ranch and the French Quarter in New Orleans, the family conflicts give the characters tough choices to make. Each has to cope with events from the past. Caitlin’s tenderhearted care for others propels her into a tempestuous relationship with Jake. Ultimately, Jake makes a life-changing discovery that he hopes will win Caitlin’s heart. Their story begins …
Sara Orwig
About the Author
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.
To David, Susan, Jim, Hannah, Ellen,
Rachel, Dixie, Joe, Kristine, Cameron, Anne, Brian,
Colin, Elisabeth, Myles. With many thanks to Maureen.
One
Unless the event had been an act of God, when was the last time a life-changing decision had been taken out of his control? Not for years. And he intended to keep it that way.
Beneath darkening skies in the early October afternoon, Jake Benton drove from the private airstrip toward his ranch. From the moment he had left Dallas for the weekend, he had been happy to put distance between himself and his father, who still meddled in his life. They had once fought over which university Jake would attend; later whether he would work in the family business or not. That had brought the first threat to disinherit him. Now when his dad threatened to disinherit Jake, it was over bigger and more important things. Like the most recent demand to get married within the year.
Jake shoved thoughts about his quarrel with his father out of mind. He was on his way to his sprawling West Texas ranch, a retreat where he could get away to relax. The only people for miles were ones who worked for him and his brother. As always when he returned to the ranch, he wondered why he didn’t come more often.
He couldn’t escape the phone or demands of business, but he could cut back on them.
Jake felt himself relax as the family ranch home that was now his, with its guesthouses, bunkhouse, staff homes, outbuildings, barns, shop, gym and various other structures, appeared in the distance. Irrigated, landscaped yards with beds of brightly colored fall blooms surrounded each house. Jake took in the view, his pleasure over being at the ranch increasing. While clouds hid the sun and thunder rumbled closer at hand, the road divided. Jake took the curve leading to his house. As he turned the corner and drove to the side of the house, he saw someone on his porch. Startled, he stared in surprise. He had a fence and security at the gate leading from the highway. In all the years he had never had any uninvited visitors—until now.
His first reaction was annoyance that someone had breached his privacy and trespassed. Curiosity replaced aggravation. His trespasser, from a distance, looked like a woman. The closer he approached, the more he could see that she was good-looking.
As he pulled to a stop only yards from his house, his gaze raked over her. She stood, walked to the steps and halted to watch him.
Auburn hair piled on her head framed an oval face with prominent cheekbones. Her long legs, encased in pale, slim jeans above Western boots caught his attention. A short leather jacket was cut high, revealing her tiny waist. He was close enough now to experience a skip in his heartbeat.
His last shred of animosity vanished. Searching his memory for a clue to her identity or reason for her on his porch, he remained at a loss. He couldn’t imagine why she was waiting for him or how she had known he was coming. Intrigued, determined to get answers, he stepped out of the car.
As his gaze locked with hers, he was startled by a sizzling current of attraction. The chemistry was instant, hot and inviting.
Whatever she was up to, she was audacious. As he approached her, he felt a defiance coming from her that puzzled him.
“Welcome home, Jake,” she said in a mellow, quiet voice. In spite of the polite greeting, his sense of a silent challenge increased.
With his gaze still fastened on hers, he climbed the porch steps until he reached the top. Standing only inches from her, he had intended to intimidate her. Instead, he felt ensnared in huge, crystal-green eyes fringed with sweeping auburn lashes. She was gorgeous and he couldn’t pull his gaze away.
“I don’t often get surprised, but I am now,” he admitted. “How’d you get past my security at the gate?”
When a faint smile lifted the corner of her mouth, his attention shifted lower to her full lips. Her mouth made him wonder how it would be to kiss her. Taking a deep breath, he tried to get his thoughts back to his question.
“You don’t know me, do you?” she asked.
“No,” he admitted. Even more disturbing, she thought he should know her. He never could have gone out with her without remembering. A woman with fabulous looks was not to be forgotten. “You have the advantage. I suspect I should know you. One thing, we’ve never gone out together,” he said, voicing aloud his thoughts.
Another faint smile tugged at her mouth. “No, we haven’t,” she said patiently. “And to answer your question, I didn’t pass your security checkpoint. I came across your ranch from the west.”
“There’s no gate or road from the west,” he said, glancing beyond her at the land that vanished in a long grove of thick oaks he’d had planted as a windbreak. He could picture beyond the oaks, the flat, mesquite-covered land extending miles to his western boundary. “If you forded the river, it must be mostly dried up now, but rain is threatening,” he said, taking a deep breath and smelling the rain that approached. “If you have a vehicle parked in the woods, I better let my foreman know before he calls the sheriff. You’re trespassing, which could cause you trouble. I can call the sheriff to have you arrested. I have signs posted.”
“This is a desperate effort to talk to you. I haven’t been able to get past the secretaries and your attorneys.”
His curiosity returned. With an effort he stopped staring at her, focusing instead on who she was. For all he knew, she could be a threat, although at the moment, he would relish a physical struggle with her because he would like to touch her.
An intriguing scent tempted him.
“All right, you want to talk. We can sit here on the porch and have a discussion,” he said, motioning toward chairs. He was reluctant to invite her into his house. It crossed his mind that she might be armed. “First though, I’ll admit, I don’t know who you are.”
He received another flicker of amusement. “Caitlin Santerre.”
The name was a knife stab. As if ice water had poured over him, he cooled toward her while he stared at her, reconciling his memory of Caitlin Santerre with the beautiful woman standing before him.
“Son-of-a-gun,” he said beneath his breath, for once not hiding his reaction to a shock. “You grew up. What the hell do you want with me?”
“You actually don’t even know, do you?” she asked, anger creeping into her tone. “You own our land. I want to buy part of it back.”
“You get to the point. Yes, I own it. It’s my land since your brother sold it. I was surprised he was willing to sell it to me.”
“Will loves money more than maintaining an old family feud, remaining loyal to the family and keeping the home place. All Will wants is to take care of Will,” she said.
“I have to agree, but I’m biased. You should have told him to not sell,” Jake said, trying to remember the age difference. He had never paid attention to her as a child when he saw her in town. She had seemed years younger and he hadn’t given her a thought then or since.
“My brother and I aren’t close. We never have been.”
“That I can understand,” Jake said, a cynical note creeping into his voice when he thought about Will Santerre whom he despised. The litany ran through his thoughts—the first Benton to settle in Texas in the mid-1800s, killing the first Santerre who was trying to divert water. The retaliations followed, which included killing cattle, poisoning water. In the next generation a Santerre son burned the Benton house and barn. The feud continued until his father put Caitlin’s father in the hospital after a fistfight. Finally, his generation with the ultimate and most personal clash, made Jake feel the old hurts like a scar. He would always be certain Will Santerre had killed his older sister, Brittany. Will was tried and found not guilty. Will had sworn it was Brittany who caused the car crash, but Jake would never be convinced. His family was guilty of doing things to the Santerres, but his family had always felt justified. While Jake had hated it, Brittany had been in love with Will. Brittany had been Football Queen, Class President, beautiful, popular—Will loved the girls and went after her. Maybe out of both revenge and really wanting her. Maybe just because he had thought she would be a conquest that would make him look good. Jake could never believe anyone as selfish as Will could love another person. As far as he was concerned, Will loved himself more than anybody else. Jake looked at Caitlin. Her beauty now was tempered by the knowledge of her lineage.
The first huge drops of rain fell, slanting to hit along the edge of the porch. “This rain was a twenty-percent chance—most unlikely from the morning weather report. I’ll make this short,” she said.
“Let me call my foreman about your vehicle—what did you drive? “
She flashed a smile that made Jake forget his hostility again. Her white teeth were even and her smile was a warm invitation as if she were on the verge of sharing a delightful secret. “There’s no vehicle. And there’s no road,” she answered, jerking her head toward the trees. “I came from the west on horseback. He jumped your fence. You might want to tell your foreman I have a tethered horse. I would appreciate getting my horse out of the weather.”
“Ah, now I know why no one spotted you. I have men who drive the boundaries, but they can’t cover this big ranch all the time. The likelihood of anyone coming across the ranch from any direction other than the highway is minimal to nonexistent. I’m not here most of the time, keep a low profile when I am home, and it’s peaceful out here. I don’t have enemies—or at least not many,” he said, thinking of his former neighbors. Jake glanced at the trees again. “I’ll tell someone to bring your horse in so it’s sheltered.”
“Thanks.”
As Jake made his call, more drops fell. He put away his phone. “My foreman will put your horse in the stable closest to the house.”
“Thanks.”
“This may only be a fall shower. Let’s go inside where we can talk in more comfortable surroundings,” Jake suggested, intrigued by her in spite of his burning hatred of her half brother. “Since our grandfathers’ days, we haven’t had to worry much about trespassers.”
“I guess our fathers were less into tearing down fences and stealing livestock from each other than the generations before them. The feud between our families began with the first two men who settled here.”
“It may be less violent, but it hasn’t ever ended,” Jake said, thinking again of Will.
“Where is Will now?”
“He won’t ever be back. He’s bought a home in San Francisco and also owns a home in Paris. He’s into investments. Beyond that, I know little about him. We have virtually no contact.”
Knowing they were getting on a bad topic, Jake held the door for her. “This is a turn in the feud—you’re the first Santerre to be invited in.”
She barely looked at her surroundings as they walked down the wide hall. “So this is where you grew up.”
“Yes. The original part of this house is as old as the house where you grew up. I know your dad’s house was built later.”
“My dad’s house no longer exists,” she said sharply. “Your crew began demolition last week. It doesn’t take long to destroy a structure. Fortunately, Grandmother’s house is the one that dates back to the beginning.”
Holding back a retort, Jake directed her into a room. “Let’s sit in the study,” he said.
They entered one of Jake’s favorite places, spacious with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on two walls while the remaining walls were glass. French doors opened onto the wraparound porch and patio, which had been remodeled with an extended roof and comfortable living areas. Beyond the patio, steps led down to a pool with a waterfall, a cabana, chairs and chaise longues. Tropical plants added an appealing touch.
“Have a seat,” Jake said. He turned as she sat in a leather wingback chair. In a sweeping glance he took in her blue Western shirt that clung to lush curves and tucked into her snug jeans. Her belt circled a waist that was as small as he had guessed at his first glimpse. The little Santerre kid he had always ignored had turned into a stunning woman. He sat in another leather chair that faced her across a low mahogany table.
She crossed her long legs and he wondered how she would look in a dress. The image made his blood heat. She looked poised, comfortable, unlike someone desperate to get him to agree to something. She also looked desirable. Even though she was a Santerre, there was a red-hot chemistry about her that tempted him to forget who she was.
When he looked up from her legs, his eyes met hers and he was again ensnared. Attraction was tangible. She had to feel it because she held his gaze as invisible sparks heated him. He wanted to know her better. At the same time, the lifelong hatred of all Santerres coated the magnetism with bitterness. Caitlin was as forbidden as poison, yet he wanted to place his lips on her to taste and kiss.
Taking a deep breath he tore his gaze away to return his attention with more composure.
“Have you been waiting long?” he asked. “I took my time flying in here this morning.”
“I was willing to wait,” she said.
“How’d you know I was coming today?”
Amusement flashed in her expressive eyes. “I’ve hired a private detective to learn your whereabouts so I could find an opportunity to talk to you. You rarely have a bodyguard with you.”
“You’re taking a chance because you know I can have you arrested.”
“It would be a little more difficult to consider me a trespasser now that you’ve invited me into your house.”
“So you want to buy back part of your ranch. Why didn’t you discuss this with your brother?”
“My half brother never gave me the opportunity. It’s general knowledge in these parts that traditionally in the Santerre family, the oldest son inherits the ranch. They are raised to protect the ranch, maintain it, keep it in the family. Well, all of that instruction didn’t take with Will. He does as he pleases and he has no interest in cowboys, the country or ranch life.”
“He told me he didn’t,” Jake said, thinking about the closing that he hadn’t planned to attend and then did just to face Will when he bought out the Santerres. In spite of Will being happy over the sale, the buyout had been sweet revenge—a goal through generations of Bentons to see the last of the Santerres in the area. Jake’s attorneys had already informed him that Caitlin wasn’t included in the ranch inheritance. Also, she hadn’t lived at the ranch since she had graduated from college. He still had thought of her as a child, so he had dismissed her from mind.
“Why didn’t Will sell part of the ranch to you since you want it badly?”
“He didn’t bother to contact me, either about selling or to ask if I wanted to buy any part of it. Will and I aren’t close. He cares only about himself.”
“I’d agree with that,” Jake stated, remembering the antagonism he had felt toward Will at the closing. Each time he had looked into Will’s hazel eyes, he could see loathing mirrored there.
“If it were left up to Will,” Caitlin continued, “I would be excluded from the family. Our father felt the same.”
“If I remember correctly, your grandmother raised you. She was a Santerre, actually, your father’s mother.”
“Yes, but unlike him in so many ways. I loved her deeply and she was good to me. Because of her, I’m recognized as a Santerre by everyone except Will.”
Jake recalled lots of gossip regarding the Santerre family history—how Caitlin’s mother had been a maid for the Santerres, the brief affair … and the resulting baby. And how the baby had been unacknowledged and cut off by Titus Santerre, yet adopted and raised by her paternal grandmother. How Titus Santerre had remained married to Will’s mother until her death and did not remarry.
“Why do you want to buy any of the ranch back?” he asked. “You don’t live here any longer and you’re not a rancher.” His gaze drifted over her thick auburn hair that was pinned loosely on her head with a few escaping strands. Looking silky, her hair was another temptation, making him think of running his fingers through the soft strands.
“I adored my grandmother and I loved growing up in her house. The people who worked for her closely were included in her will. Our foreman, Kirby Lenox, Altheda Perkins, who was our cook and now also cleans, and Cecilia Mayes, Grandmother’s companion—they all stayed on. Kirby and two who work for him, still run the ranch. They care for the horses and the few cattle we have. Altheda maintains the house, cooking and overseeing the cleaning. Cecilia is elderly now. She devoted her life to Grandmother, first as her personal secretary and later as companion.
“I knew people were still staying there.”
“As owner, you could have evicted them.”
“I’m not in a rush. I figured they would leave before long. If they didn’t, then I planned to tell them they had to go. It is my property.”
“I love all of them because they were there when I grew up. I wanted to keep the house, barn and animals for them as long as they live. I wanted to be able to return occasionally to the ranch house—just as you must do here.”
Jake nodded. “Why didn’t you tell Will?”
She looked away but he had seen the coldness in her expression that came with his question. “I did tell Will. He just laughed at me and reminded me that my father barely acknowledged my existence so I had no say in what he did with the ranch. He said he would tell me if it looked as if I could come up with more money to buy it and make a better offer than anyone else who bid on it. When the time came, he didn’t. I knew nothing about the sale. He didn’t legally have to notify me because I had no more part of ownership of the ranch than a stranger.”
Jake felt no stir of sympathy for her. Even though she and Will were alienated, Jake couldn’t forget that they were both Santerres. The same blood ran in her veins as in Will’s.
“You know I can’t work up much sympathy for a Santerre,” Jake admitted, voicing his thoughts aloud. “Not even a beautiful one.”
One dark eyebrow arched as she gave him a level look. “You’re honest. I’m not asking you to like me or even see me again in your lifetime. I just want to buy the house and part of the land. Grandmother never owned it. There was a stipulation in my father’s will assuring her she could live there the rest of her life and then it would belong to Will. All I want is a small part.”
“What advantage for me would there be in doing any such thing?” he asked. “It would mean keeping a Santerre for a neighbor. You surely heard the family histories and know what kind of past we’ve had.”
“Oh, I’ve heard,” she replied lightly as if discussing the weather. “The first Benton killed the first Santerre over water. The river meanders and thus the argument continues about each family’s rights and boundary. Our great-great-grandfathers were political opponents. Your family supposedly burned down our barn in the early days, rustled cattle, stole our horses. The list is long.”
“You’ve left out the most recent episode that touched our lives, at least it affected mine. You may have been young enough to miss it. I’m thirty-four. You must be about twenty-two.”
Her eyes danced with amusement. “You’re a little off. If that were the case, when you were seventeen in high school, I would have been toddling off to kindergarten. No, I’m twenty-eight now.”
Smiling, he shrugged. “You were a little kid. You might as well have been five when I was seventeen. I paid no attention to you at that age.”
“Mmm, I’ll have to remedy that. I have no intention of letting you continue to ignore me,” she drawled, making his heart skip because she was flirting with him.
“Maybe I’ll have to reassess my attitude toward Santerres,” he said.
“You might be surprised by what you’d find,” she rejoined, slanting him a coy smile that made his pulse jump.
“You should make me forget you’re related to Will. As far as our family is concerned, Will caused my sister Brittany’s death.”
“When the District Attorney pressed charges and Will was brought to trial, he was found innocent. The car wreck was ruled an accident. Will has been cleared of that charge,” Caitlin stated matter-of-factly.
“I’ll never feel he was innocent,” Jake replied. “Will testified that Brittany tried to run him off the road. But she was in love with him. Will is the one who ran her off the road.”
“The jury found Will innocent. Will and I barely speak. He’ll probably cease to do so now that our father is gone. Although, my success in my profession has given Will a grudging mellowing toward me. Not enough to inform me of his decision to sell the ranch, much less of the agreement to sell it to you.”
“Will is rotten,” Jake said, thinking more about Caitlin’s silky auburn hair and huge eyes, still amazed to learn her identity.
“Please think about this. I want to save the house and people’s livelihoods that you’ll take away. I love them and they’re older now. I feel responsible for their well-being because they’ve devoted their lives to my grandmother and to me.”
“Noble, but they also got paid to do so and probably a damned good salary.”
“Sure, but it went beyond that. That house holds happy memories. Please rethink my request to buy before you answer hastily.”
He smiled at her as he sat in silence and studied her. “All right, I’ll think about it, but I doubt if I’ll change my mind.”
“If so, your decision has to be spite.” Her expression didn’t change. Green eyes observed him coolly. “You have one of the largest ranches in the state as it is and now you’ve bought up neighboring ranches as well as ours. I urge you to have an open mind when you give this thought.”
“It isn’t spite. At least not toward you. It’s vengeful where Will is concerned. I was delighted to buy him out. Even happier to tear down Will’s home place, turning it into rubble that will be cleared. Eventually, in its place will be mesquite, cactus and bare ground.”
Lightning crackled and popped while thunder made the windows rattle. Rain began to drum against the house.
Jake’s mind raced as his gaze roamed over her again. Her beauty pulled on his senses and there was an unmistakable physical attraction, but he didn’t care to pursue it. She was a Santerre and he wasn’t selling land back to her. She should have talked to Will immediately after their father’s death about her wishes to keep their grandmother’s property. He glanced beyond her through the French doors at the downpour, listening to the loud hiss of rain.
He glanced at his watch; it was almost six o’clock. He wanted her to stay for dinner when common sense said to get rid of her. Tell her no, get her out of his life and keep the property. She would give up and go on with her life if she learned there was no hope of regaining her childhood home.
But, traitorous or not, he was enjoying the sight of her too much. “You might as well stay for dinner. You can’t ride home in this and I don’t care to get out in it right now. It’s a gully washer and you know as well as I do how fast creeks and streams here will flood, so just stay. I can take you home later and you can get your horse when it’s convenient.”
She gave him another of her long, assessing looks and he couldn’t guess what ran through her thoughts. “Very well, thank you.”
He nodded. “This place is stocked. All the staff is gone, Their work is minimal since I’m here so little. I give them notice when I want them. My cook lives here on the ranch, and the other house staff live in town. Since you’re here, I’ll ask Fred to come in the morning. He lives on the ranch, so it’s easy for him to do so. Dinner will be what I can rustle up.”
“That’s fine. You can keep it simple.”
“Want a drink? Wine, soft drink, mixed drink, beer?”
“A glass of water would be great,” she said.
“Let’s go to the family room. It’s more comfortable.”
“Fine, lead the way,” she said, standing in a fluid motion.
She was tall, although a good six inches shorter than he was. They walked into an adjoining room twice the size of the study with windows and French doors with another, more panoramic view of the storm. French doors also opened onto the porch and the covered patio. She crossed to the windows to look out while he built a fire in a stone fireplace. He went to the bar to get her water and get himself a cold beer.
“We can sit outside and watch the storm if you prefer, although it may be chilly. I can build a fire and I’ll cook out there.”
“I have a jacket.”
“And I don’t get cold,” he said. They walked out to the patio with its comfortable furniture, stainless-steel equipment and a state-of-the-art cooker.
“Even though there are no walls, you have what amounts to another few rooms out here,” she remarked, glancing around at a living area, a kitchen area and the cabana and pool.
“It’s livable. A fire will make it more so.” He built a fire in a fireplace and then sat facing her near the blazing orange flames.
Handing her drink to her, he brushed her hand lightly. The physical contact, while so slight, burned. Soft warm skin. A startling awareness increased his desire.
She smiled at him. “Thank you. We’re having quite a storm. There won’t be any going home the way I came. As you said, this kind of downpour gets the river spilling out of its banks.”
She slanted him a look that was hot. He wondered if it was deliberate. Maybe he shouldn’t be so hasty in getting rid of her after dinner.
While he had no intention of selling any part of the Santerre ranch back to her, how far would she go to try to convince him to do so?
“It’s already dark out because of the storm,” he said. “We have plenty of room,” he added in a husky voice. “You can stay all night.”
Two
“A Santerre staying overnight with a Benton. It’s a shocking invitation that would turn our relatives topsy-turvy if they had known.”
“Scared to stay with a Benton?”
“Not remotely. I look forward to it,” she said, smiling at him. “It’s just that never in my wildest imaginings would I have guessed I would be here overnight. One Santerre is definitely shocked.”
“This is a stormy night, so better to stay inside.”
“Good. Staying longer will give me more time to try to talk you into selling. You don’t live here year round, why would you want so much more land? I know you’ve bought the ranch to the east of this one in addition to buying ours.”
“The first and foremost reason is oil,” he answered. “My brother thinks there may be oil in this general area. You have to know that he’s already drilling to the west of your grandmother’s house.”
“I see the activity with the trucks coming and going all hours. A rig is up now. From the upstairs floors we can see the work. They have fenced off the area so the cattle won’t roam there. I don’t think you’ll find any oil. My dad went through this at one time.”
“Gabe thinks there may be oil on your ranch, or on the old Patterson place. That’s why I wanted the land to the east, partially why I wanted your home place. Mostly I wanted to buy out Will and see the last of the Santerres in Nealey County. The people who worked for your grandmother are not Santerres. They would eventually have to go, but I haven’t been in a rush to run them off.”
“I have never done anything to hurt you or your family,” she stated quietly, but he saw the flare of fire in her eyes indicating animosity was not his alone.
“No, you haven’t. Admit it, though, you don’t like me or any other Benton.”
She glanced away. “I was raised to feel that way. I’m sure both families are at fault.” Her attention returned to him. “Your dislike hinges primarily on your sister and Will, even though Will was found innocent.”
Jake hoped he hid the sudden clenching of his insides as the old anger stirred again. She had touched a nerve. “I’ll always feel my sister’s death was due to Will.”
“Even though a jury found him innocent?” Caitlin asked. “From what Will said, your sister was the one at fault.”
“My sister had the poor judgment to fall in love with your half brother,” Jake said, thinking Caitlin should have left the topic alone because she stirred memories of the most abhorrent event in his life. It was the ultimate culmination of his hatred of Will. “Brittany didn’t live to tell her side of the story.”
“At the trial Will testified that they had a fight and she drove off in a rage. He said he was afraid she would have a wreck and he followed her. He tried to get in front of her car so he could slow her down. He testified that when he tried to pass her, she sideswiped his car. She lost control and crashed.”
“I’ll always think Will sideswiped her car. Will was the one who wanted her out of his life. She wanted him to marry her.”
“That never came out in the trial, although it was common talk. Will admitted to Grandmother that Brittany wanted him to marry her.”
“You know a lot about it.”
“I was there, even if I was younger than you.”
“She was pregnant with Will’s baby,” Jake said, feeling the dull hurt that came when he thought about Brittany’s crash. “Brittany told me. She was in love with him, too. I’m convinced Will ran her off the road and she crashed,” Jake said, hurt growing with each word. He hated having painful memories dredged up again.
Caitlin gasped. “I always figured talk of pregnancy was just a rumor. It was never brought up at the trial.”
“My mother didn’t know about it. My dad didn’t want it brought out at the trial and your family sure as hell didn’t,” Jake said. “I will always blame Will. I don’t believe he told the truth about that night, but no one will ever know because only two people were present. At the time of the trial, one of them was dead,” Jake stated, bitterness filling him as he sank into dark memories of a painful time. “We better get off this subject if you want to have a civil conversation with me.”
Jake gazed into fiery green eyes. Caitlin made no effort to hide her anger. He could feel the waves of antagonism that revealed her flirting was simply a means to try to get what she wanted from him.
“So that’s why you hate Will so much,” she said.
“Will and I have competed in school in sports and in the classroom. I was captain of the football team when he wanted to be. We both were on the baseball team. I had more home runs than Will. He had more stolen bases. I was my class president and the next year he was his class president. We were both on the debate team. Will and I have had plenty of our own battles. I never put Will in the hospital or vice versa.”
“You broke his nose. Actually, I wasn’t too sorry when I heard that. I thought a good punch was well deserved.”
“It definitely was,” he said lightly. “It was the loss of Brittany that tops my list of complaints against Will. I loved my sister and I hated to see her go out with Will. Brittany and I fought constantly over that. When she could, she hid her relationship with Will from our dad. I should have told him, but I don’t think it would have helped. She was eighteen, a senior. Will was eighteen by then. I was still seventeen. She would have done what she wanted. I don’t think anyone could have stopped her. Not even that fatal night.”
“As a Benton, you’ll always think Will was guilty.”
“Yes. While you’ll always think he’s innocent. We’re at an impasse on the issue and it makes even a business deal between us an emotional event that can’t be looked at in a purely impartial way.”
“Will’s no angel and we’ve never gotten along. Grandmother sat him down and made him tell her what happened. He swore that was the truth and I don’t think even Will could have lied to her. She could be a formidable woman. More intimidating than my father.”
Jake sipped his beer and listened to the rain, remembering all the emotional upheaval of that time in their lives. He could imagine easily Will Santerre lying to his grandmother. He looked at Caitlin and saw a Santerre, Will’s half sister. The ultimate irony would be to seduce her.
He had no intention of selling one inch of the Santerre place back to her.
How valuable was the land to her? Was trying to obtain it worth the price of seduction?
“That’s Will,” Caitlin continued. “What he did has little to do with me other than the fact that the same blood runs in our veins. There is no love lost between the two of us, so do not lump me with him.” The air was thick with hostility again. There was a fine line between them that kept them civil and caused her to flirt with him. He owned her family home and it was headed for destruction. In turn, he was beginning to want her in his bed. The more he was with her, the more he desired her.
She placed her palm on his cheek, startling him. “I told you. I’m going to make you see me as a woman and not as a Santerre.”
“I do already,” he answered in a husky voice, letting go thoughts about past history. Her hand was warm, soft against his cheek and he wanted her to keep it there. He longed to slip his arm around her waist and pull her into his embrace, to lean close to taste her lips.
Instead, when she sat back in her chair, he took her empty glass from her. “Want something stronger than water this time?”
“I’ll have another glass of water,” she said, smiling at him and getting up to follow him to the bar. She slid onto a high bar stool and watched as he filled another glass of water and sat on a bar stool facing her.
With their knees lightly touching, the temperature on the patio rose a notch in spite of the rain-chilled air.
“Now what can I do to get you to pay attention to me?” she asked.
He smiled. “You have my full attention right now,” he said. “Should it wander, you’ll figure out some way to capture my notice again. Some way as clever as getting into my house and spending the evening with me. You managed that easily.”
“Right now we’re captives of the storm. We both have to be here.” She leaned forward, her face closer to his. “I don’t know whether I can ever get you to see me apart from my family.”
“I promise you,” he replied in a huskier voice, “that I see you as Caitlin, a beautiful woman.”
Something flickered in the depths of her eyes and she got a sensual, solemn expression that made his heartbeat race. As his gaze dropped to her mouth, his desire to kiss her grew. He wondered about her kiss, resolving to satisfy his curiosity before the night was out.
“Now we have the whole evening to get to know each other. Do you work, Caitlin?”
She nodded. “I’m a professional photographer.”
“You must be good if you’re earning a living at it.”
Swirling her glass of water, she replied, “I freelance and I do earn a living at it.”
One dark eyebrow arched. “Why do you want to stay out here when you have a busy life elsewhere in the world?”
“Same reason you’re here, probably,” she replied. “I can relax, get away from everything else and have solitude.”
He sipped his drink and nodded. “You’re right,” he admitted. “This is an escape for me.”
“What do you need to escape from? Business decisions? Women?”
He laughed. “Never women.”
“You think about it—I’ll make a nice neighbor and the old feud will die with us. I won’t fight with you over the boundary, over water, never over the mineral rights, which I’m certain you won’t sell back to me, but that’s not my purpose here. I want to keep the home for all those people I told you about. Selfishly, also for my own memories and pleasure.”
She sipped her water and turned to watch the rain that still came in torrents. “We’re having a record breaker.”
“Maybe it’ll be a night to remember,” he said softly. She gave him a sultry look. He wondered if she hadn’t wanted the ranch from him if she would have been far less friendly. She had a convincing act to get what she wanted.
“It already has been,” she replied. He took her chin in hand to hold her face so he could look into her eyes.
“Are you playing with me to get what you want, Caitlin?” he asked.
“Perhaps, but you’re doing the same thing.”
“I didn’t come to the ranch wanting something from you.”
“You do now,” she replied, and his heart drummed. He wanted to close the last few inches between them to kiss her. As if she guessed his intent, with a deft move, she twisted away from his light grasp and sat back, smiling coyly at him.
“What would it hurt to sell a piece of the ranch back to me? You could still search for oil and reap the rewards if you find it. The little parcel you’d sell to me, you’d really never miss.”
“You could turn right around and give it to Will. As a matter of fact, how do I know that he hasn’t had a change of heart and sent you to buy a piece of the ranch back for him? If I sell to you, it’s yours to do with as you see fit.”
“You can write it in the contract. I’ll swear in front of a judge if you want—I absolutely am not doing this for Will,” she said and her expression frosted. “Will and I speak only when necessary. Our father barely recognized me. Will has snubbed me on the street in town before. There’s no love lost between us.”
“I’d think you’d be glad to be rid of the house and the land that belonged to your father and that Will inherited. That would be a constant reminder of your status in the family when you’re here. And a reminder your grandmother couldn’t own the house she lived in. The Santerres were not considerate of the women in the family.”
“No. When I’m in the house where I grew up, my blood father and Will are an insignificant part of it. My father and Will were at her house for family get-togethers, rarely any other times. Grandmother couldn’t own the land or the house, but she had other assets. She left Will a token $25,000, otherwise all her money, savings, stocks, bonds, went to me. One thing, Will had to mind Grandmother and he hated that. Will never took orders well from anyone except Grandmother and sometimes his father. Grandmother made him mind and it irritated him no end, but she was the one person on this earth Will truly feared. He feared and cooperated with his father just to the point to keep in his good graces. Will’s mother spoiled him terribly. She may have contributed greatly to Will being the selfish, self-centered person he is.”
“Did you ever go to your father’s house?”
She shook her head and stood, watching the rain. “No, except for Christmases when I was young. Later my father and Will would travel to exotic places to celebrate. I think they were both frightened of Grandmother. They didn’t mess with her. I haven’t seen Will since my father’s funeral. We talked on the phone after I learned about the sale of the ranch. That’s how I know Will is living in California and Paris. I’m my father’s daughter by blood only. Since I didn’t grow up with him, he had little influence on my life. Grandmother raised me to think for myself and form my own opinions. I keep telling you, please don’t categorize me with Will.” Caitlin tilted her head, studying Jake.
“I haven’t. I can keep you and Will separate in my mind.” Jake reached out to touch a stray lock of her hair. “I have a suggestion. Let’s set aside business so we can enjoy the next few hours. For a while, let’s forget that I’m a Benton and you’re a Santerre. We can get to know each other on another level that doesn’t involve the past, but is the present. If we’d just met, we wouldn’t be into all this family history. I think we’ll have a better evening that we’re compelled by rain to share.”
She smiled. “You feel compelled to share this evening with me?”
“You’ve already said we’re captive for tonight and I never said the time together was a bad thing. I’m just trying to make it better by removing some of the remnants of the family feud for a few hours. We can always return to swords’ points.”
She laughed softly. “Deal. At least we can try. We’ll see how long it lasts.”
“Excellent,” he said, smiling at her. Again, there was a flicker in the depths of her eyes and his insides tightened. She was responsive to him, willing to flirt. She wanted to kiss, he was sure of it, but he was determined to wait until the right moment.
“So, Caitlin, tell me about professional photography. Do you have a studio somewhere?”
“Yes, I do in Houston as well as galleries in Houston and in Santa Fe. I have homes both places.”
“Impressive.”
She smiled as she peered over the edge of her drink at him. “You’re not really impressed. I like my work. Actually, I love my work.”
“And what kind of photography do you do?”
“Don’t sound as if I’m playing marbles for a living,” she said, her smile taking the bite out of her words. “I take pictures of people, families, children, celebs, pets. I specialize in black-and-white photography of people and children. I already know about you—the CEO of Benton Energy, Inc. Your father is retired now and you run the company. Your brother Gabe is CEO of Benton Drilling.”
“Right. Before hunger sets in, I’ll fire up the grill for steaks. I’ll put potatoes in to cook.” He went to the refrigerator to remove the steaks and put them on the grill.
While he cooked, she helped him get salads and water on the table. When she was finished, she perched on the bar stool nearest him to talk to him. “This is a wonderful patio. You can sit outside, yet you’re protected from the elements here.”
“I enjoy it when I’m here,” he said, glancing beyond the patio at the pool that was splashing as raindrops hit the blue surface. “No swimming in this weather.” Lightning streaked the sky in a brilliant flash. “If the lightning worries you, we can go inside.”
“I’m fine.”
“So what does worry you, Caitlin?”
“Losing the property, not being able to help the people who worked for Grandmother through the years.”
“I walked into that one.”
“So what worries you, Jake?”
“Business failure. My dad’s interference in my life.”
“You’re a little old for your daddy to interfere, especially since you’re running a large company,” she said and he detected the amusement in her voice.
“Oh, no. I have a manipulative father. At least he tries and I resist. It’s not quite the same for my brother. Sometimes I think Brittany dated Will out of rebellion against Dad’s constant attempt to dominate her life.”
She laughed. “That’s mind-boggling. You are definitely not the type to have someone try to control you.”
He grinned, turning from the steaks to sit near her for a few minutes. “I like your smile, your laughter. When you laugh, it’s a sunny spring day.”
“Thank you. That’s a nice compliment,” she replied. “Too bad you’re not Jake Smith and I’m not Caitlin Jones. The night might be incredibly different.”
“For tonight, we can try to be Jake Smith and Caitlin Jones. We’ve already agreed to forget business. Just stretch it a little more and pretend we don’t have family histories.”
“That’s a giant stretch with pitfalls all along the pathway, but it would have been nice,” she added and sipped her water.
He leaned down so his face was closer to hers and her eyes widened. “Try. You have an imagination. See me as someone you just met,” he urged, thinking she had the greenest eyes he had ever seen. Her perfume tormented him and her mouth was a constant temptation.
“While it’s an exciting prospect, it’s the way to disaster. Impossible,” she answered breathlessly and he was certain she felt the attraction, too.
“Coward,” he teased with a faint smile, wanting to lean the last few inches and kiss her. She tilted her face up another degree.
“Wicked man,” she replied, smiling to make light of her words.
It would be so easy to close the mere inches of distance and kiss her and she wanted the kiss as much as he, but he resisted. He wanted her to be eager to kiss with no hesitation. The tantalizing moments were building his desire. Hopefully, hers, too.
“Your steaks may be crispy now,” she remarked.
He hurried to flip the steaks. He turned, catching her studying him. “Now, wine with dinner?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied and he moved behind the bar to get a bottle of Shiraz.
In a short time they were seated near the fireplace with dinner in front of them. She was a dainty eater, telling him about her gallery in Santa Fe while he mentally peeled away the blue Western shirt. His appetite for steak diminished. To his surprise, he wanted to see her again beyond tonight and he wanted to take her dancing so he could hold her in his arms.
Common sense told him to forget both things. As a Santerre, when they got down to business, she was going to be unhappy with him because he didn’t want to leave a Santerre house standing. The people who had worked for her grandmother could retire or find other jobs, he was sure. He would look into hiring them himself.
Out of sentiment Caitlin wanted the house she grew up in, but she spent little time here. She could move everything out of the house into another home elsewhere. He saw no valid reason to sell the place back to her and several reasons to turn her down. He didn’t want Santerres left in the county. He didn’t want to have to worry about Caitlin and that old house sitting in the center of his property, leaving part of the property out of his control. If Gabe struck oil, it would be even more important to own the land. While he had mineral rights, he didn’t want to have to drive around Caitlin’s holdings.
Was he being uncooperative because she was a Santerre? So what? It was his property, legally purchased and he couldn’t help if her half brother had not informed her about the sale or her father hadn’t included her in ownership. From all he’d heard, her father never had involved her in anything in his life. It was solely the grandmother who had adopted Caitlin to give her a Santerre life.
“Your grandmother has been gone now—what—five years?” Jake asked, trying to recall when he heard that Madeline Santerre had passed away.
“Yes. You have an excellent memory because I know that wasn’t a date that meant anything to you,” Caitlin replied, looking away. “I loved her with all my heart,” she added quietly. Her emotional answer indicated she probably cared so much for the people who had worked for her grandmother because she didn’t have anyone else. Her father and half brother had rejected her all her life. So had her birth mother in giving her up for adoption. “The minute Grandmother heard my mother planned to put me up for adoption, she stepped up and took me in.”
“So where did you go to college, Caitlin?”
“To Texas University and then to Stanford. My degree is from Stanford. I had intended to go into law, but by my junior year I was earning a lot of money with photography, so I finished college and became a photographer. What about you, Jake?”
“Texas University, too, but years ahead of you. Then a master’s in business from Harvard. Then back to work here. Pretty simple and predictable.”
“Sure,” she said, smiling at him. “You told me what you don’t like, so what do you like, Jake?”
“Beautiful women, slow, hot kisses—”
She laughed, interrupting him. “That was not what I had in mind. Besides women, what do you like?”
He grinned. “Making money and doing business deals, watching the business grow, the usual. I swim, I play golf, play basketball with my friends, I ski, I like snow-covered mountains or tropical islands. I’m easy to please. Your turn.”
“I’m even easier to please. I like a riveting book, quiet winter nights, getting just the right picture, little children—”
“That sounds like marriage is looming.”
“Not at all. No man in my life, but I hope someday. Don’t you want to marry someday?”
“Yes, but not this year,” he said a little more forcefully than he had intended.
She laughed. “Okay, so you’re not ready. I think I can make the same promise safely. I will not marry this year,” she said, mimicking him and he had to smile and was relieved she made light of his comment.
The rain turned to a steady, moderate rain. Jake took her hand, aware of her smooth skin, the warmth and softness of her. “Let’s go in where it’s warmer. I’m glad we don’t have to get out in this,” he said.
She looked down at her clothes. “I just have what I’m wearing. If you can stand seeing me in the same thing in the morning, only more wrinkled, I’m happy to stay because water may be over some of the bridges, I’d guess.”
“Great.” He switched on lights in the living area. The fire had burned low and he added logs.
He put on music and took her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Come here, Caitlin, and let’s dance,” he said, drawing her to him on the polished oak floor in a space between area rugs.
She came into his arms easily, following his lead. He liked holding her, wanting her more with each hour that passed. Common sense still screamed to keep his distance to avoid entanglement of any kind with her, but it was a losing argument. It would be the ultimate irony to seduce Will’s half sister, except Will wouldn’t care because he obviously had no fondness or even polite consideration for Caitlin.
Jake tightened his arms around her and moved slowly with her. “This is good, Caitlin,” he said quietly, more to himself than her.
“Not wise, but it’s good,” she added, indicating that she must hold the same view of getting acquainted that he had.
“So you like to dance.”
“I love to dance and I’m glad you thought of this,” she said softly. They moved quietly, conversation ceasing and he was sorry when the music came to an end.
She looked up at him. He held her lightly in his embrace and he felt as if he were tumbling down into a sea of green, falling headlong without any hope of stopping. He had waited long enough.
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