The Wedding Wager: Dakota Daddy. Sara Orwig

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      “No, you stop worrying,” he ordered, but his voice was gentle and quiet. “I promise, I’ll try if you will to find a viable solution.”

      Unable to speak, afraid she would start crying again, she nodded. “I had better get ready.”

      “Okay, but I wish you could smile.” He knelt slightly to be on eye level, smiling at her, and teased a halfhearted smile from her. “That’s better. I’m going to try to get a real smile out of you while we’re together.”

      She didn’t want to go away with him. She wanted to tell him that she still thought he was ruthless and arrogant and had to have his way, but it was useless. She followed him outside, and the minute they parted she rushed back into the house to call Rolf.

      “Rolf, thanks so much. I’ll deal with Jared. He is willing to work something out.”

      She finally got off the phone to put her head into her hands and cry. She didn’t want any of this.

      In minutes, she called her aunt to tell her what had happened and that she was going with Jared for a few days. She choked back the tears when she talked to Ethan, but he never noticed. He’d gotten a new electronic game and when she told him she was going away, he accepted it with barely a pause in his chatter about the game.

      Knowing he was in good hands, she said good-bye and hurried to change and pack.

      She dressed in brown slacks, a matching sleeveless top and wore high-heeled sandals. Brushing her hair, she clipped it high on the back of her head.

      She was going away with Jared to one of his secluded homes. She could well imagine what he had in mind. Along with arranging custody plans was a plan for seduction.

      She didn’t want to return after several days with him, not only losing rights to her son, but in love with Jared—twice in her life.

      And Jared might be the sexiest, most charming man she’d ever known.

      She would have to keep up her guard. So far, she had failed miserably in all dealings with him.

      By a quarter past eleven, she was airborne, flying over Jared’s ranch and headed south. To avoid conversation with him, she gazed out the window, looking at his ranch spread below. She turned back to find him watching her. Dressed in chinos, a charcoal knit shirt and loafers, he looked commanding, as if satisfied with all facets of his world. And why wouldn’t he, she thought. He’d won the first part of their fight.

      “This is a hopeful start, Megan,” he said, leaning close to touch a wispy lock of hair that had come free from her tie.

      “You’re an incredible optimist,” she said.

      “If we work something out, then there’s no problem.”

      “I know you already have something in mind,” she said stiffly.

      He shrugged. “Not necessarily. Let’s let it go for today and get back on better footing with each other,” he suggested.

      “If we can,” she said, looking out the window while fighting the urge to scream that she hadn’t planned on a better relationship with him, but she knew she had to now. Getting concessions from him on the custody front could be impossible otherwise.

      “Of course, we can,” he said, taking her hand. “I’ve got three days with a beautiful woman, who I intend to get to know.”

      “You know me well enough,” she said, gazing into his dark eyes that hid his intentions and thoughts.

      “No, I don’t. I knew an eighteen-year-old. You’ve changed. You’re far more poised, more self-assured and much more unattainable.”

      “I suppose that comes with growing up, although, when I met you, you had all the confidence imaginable.”

      He gave her a crooked smile. “Does that mean arrogance? That’s what it sounds like.”

      She had to smile in return. “Definitely. But I’d like to stay on your good side as much as possible on this trip, so I’m trying to be polite.”

      “Don’t be polite with me. But staying on my good side—that’s fine. What are your plans for the future, Megan? Do you intend to always keep your gallery in Santa Fe, even if you divide your days between there and the ranch?”

      “Yes. Santa Fe is home and perfect for us,” she said, aware her hand was still in his, as he ran his thumb back and forth over her wrist. His touches added fuel to the lust she battled.

      “I love Santa Fe,” she continued, “and I never want to move from there. I always hoped Ethan would grow up and stay nearby, but that isn’t realistic, I know. Now that he’ll have time with you, heaven knows what he’ll do when he’s grown.”

      “That’s far away,” Jared said. “Do you like to swim?”

      “Actually, I love to. I guess because there was little chance to when I was growing up, and then there aren’t many opportunities in Santa Fe. I don’t have a suit, though. There’s no need to keep one at the ranch.”

      “We’ll stop and I’ll get you one.”

      “I’ll buy my suit,” she said, laughing.

      He smiled. “That’s better,” he said, touching the corner of her mouth and running his finger lightly along her lower lip, building a warmth in her. “I promise to get a real laugh out of you before the night is over.”

      “Stick to why we’re here, Jared,” she said quietly. “This is an interlude to work out a plan for our future concerning Ethan. It’s not to get reacquainted all over again. Not at all.”

      “What’s wrong with renewing a friendship?” he asked.

      “It was more than a friendship, and I don’t want a broken heart twice,” she said, hoping she never hurt again as badly as she had the year he left.

      “I promise, I don’t intend to hurt you,” he said.

      “Then keep these few days relatively impersonal. I’m working at this, Jared. Don’t make it complicated and more difficult,” she instructed briskly.

      “I wouldn’t think of it,” he said, once again leaning back in his chair. “So, tell me about a typical day in your life. What do you and Ethan do?”

      “Through the school year, Ethan is in a private school and I spend most of the day in my studio. I have someone who runs the gallery for me, except on Wednesdays and Fridays, when I run it myself. I have three salespeople who work in the gallery for me at different hours, not all at the same time, but there are always two of us present. It’s easier that way.”

      “I haven’t been to Santa Fe in years. Not since you moved there. What’s the name of your gallery?” he asked, locking his fingers behind his head and stretching out his long legs. Looking totally relaxed, he reminded her of a leopard or tiger, some large cat lazing and half asleep, yet able to pounce in a flash. Except Jared would never physically pounce. His methods were emotional and mental. “Wait, let me guess,” he said. “Sorenson Gallery.”

      “Am СКАЧАТЬ