An Arranged Marriage. Susan Fox P.

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СКАЧАТЬ a wary distance from him now went out of their way to speak to him or do business with him.

      And though he could now buy anything he wanted and could do whatever he pleased, it shocked him a little to suddenly discover that the things he wanted most—a home, a family and respectability—had more to do with the quality of the woman he chose to marry than the sweat, blood and sacrifice that had brought him this far.

      Because Blue Sumner had rarely had anything given to him, he knew right off that the kind of woman he was looking for could only be his for a price. A quality woman wouldn’t willingly marry a man who’d come from what he’d come from; she’d never be interested in a man who’d grown up rough-mannered and hard. And because she wouldn’t, Blue didn’t intend to give her a choice.

      Allison Lancaster drove her car to the mansion on the Sumner ranch, but stopped a distance down the driveway. Several vans and trucks, which she assumed belonged to various building contractors and their workers, took up much of the driveway space nearest the house. Leery of blocking the driveway, she angled her car to the side of the gravel and switched off the engine. She reached to the seat beside her for her handbag, then paused to stare at the huge house.

      She’d heard Blue Sumner was building one of the finest homes around, and though it was still weeks from completion, she could see that it was just as impressive as the gossips had said.

      The huge two-and-a-half story house was built in a Victorian style with a deep, roof-shaded veranda around the entire main floor. The house fairly shouted wealth and good taste, but Allison couldn’t reconcile the sight of the house with her image of the rugged, elemental man who’d ordered it built.

      For what had to be the hundredth time that morning, she mentally reviewed the handful of times her path had crossed Blue Sumner’s. She’d never been able to quite forget the tall, hard-looking man who nodded respectfully to her each time they met on the street. She’d never understood the reason for the wild flutter in her middle the time his fiery blue eyes had blazed down at her from beneath his hat brim as he’d handed her a donation for a school fund-raiser.

      And the time she’d been stranded on a country road by a flat tire. Why she could still remember the smell of sweat and leather and hot gravel, and could still recall the odd little sensations she’d felt as she’d watched him change the tire, defied explanation. But something about the way the ruggedly handsome rancher’s big, work-callused hands had handled the task had riveted her.

      Allison was suddenly aware that she was trembling. The shocking message her uncle Charles had given her that morning had upset her. And since the message had been from Blue Sumner, this foolish review of disturbing memories didn’t help.

      She tightened her grip on her handbag and opened the door to get out of the car. The sounds of hammers and electric hand tools filled the country air. The newly built ranch buildings and corrals she could see a distance away seemed just as active, with horses, cattle and ranch hands scattered around. At least she wouldn’t be alone with the man.

      She tried to settle her nerves as she walked with determined poise toward the huge front doors of the mansion, then groaned with frustration when she realized that a fine sheen of perspiration had broken out across her pale brow. As she walked, she took out a tissue and discreetly blotted her face, appalled that her hands were shaking by the time she slipped the tissue back into the handbag.

      Remembering what Blue looked like, recalling her feminine reaction to his macho intensity had undermined her somehow. And now that she was on the verge of speaking to him face-to-face, the memory of his outrageous message struck fear in her heart. Surely he hadn’t been serious.

      Blue watched Allison’s arrival from one of the unfinished guest rooms on the second floor of his new house. The woman was the very soul of femininity. From the shiny crown of her shoulder-length blond hair to the toes of her high heels, Allison Lancaster was petite, refined and as elegant as royalty.

      The white linen dress she was wearing with the matching handbag and shoes probably cost more than the profit he’d made in any year of his life prior to striking oil. He couldn’t imagine what her gold earrings, necklace or watch cost. All he knew was that now he could buy her hundreds of necklaces and watches and matching outfits, and never feel the slightest loss.

      The prideful thought sent a breath of unease through him. Allison Lancaster was quality. She was used to the best. He could buy her the best—hell, he could snap his fingers and lay anything she wanted at her feet.

      Anything except a gentleman husband.

      The reminder chafed his pride and dimmed some of the pleasure he felt at the sight of her. But he’d learned that a man didn’t have to be a gentleman to get what he wanted in this life. Not if he had money. And not if he was ruthless.

      Blue turned away from the window and stalked from the room.

      Allison hesitated just outside the open double doors at the front of the huge house, loathe to walk into the place unannounced. Though her uncle had told her that Blue had invited her to meet him there, good manners and caution prevented her from behaving with too much familiarity.

      A short, wiry man appeared in the doorway. “You must be Miz Lancaster,” he declared, then motioned her toward the door. “Mr. Sumner’s waitin’ for you inside.”

      Allison managed a stiff smile and started forward, her nerves jumping with tension and suspense. Once inside the huge entry hall, the man shouted a loud, “Noon break, boys, let’s clear out,” that startled her.

      In a surprisingly brief time, workers came from every direction and swiftly exited the house. “Mr. Sumner’ll be along directly, miss,” the man told her before he, too, ducked out the front door.

      Allison looked toward the windows and saw that the workers were all moving in the direction of the ranch buildings she’d seen earlier. The idea that they might be going all the way to the new cookhouse for lunch increased her nervousness. Suddenly the big house seemed quite isolated from the rest of the ranch headquarters. Uneasy with the notion of being alone with Blue, Allison glanced nervously toward the open doors.

      The deep, rough drawl that echoed in the large, empty rooms gave her no time to make a graceful exit.

      “I’m obliged to you for comin’ out.”

      Allison jumped at the sound of the man’s voice and couldn’t help that she whirled to face him.

      Blue Sumner’s hard gaze seemed to swallow her whole as he came toward her. She suddenly had the impression that he saw everything about her, including the light shiver that raised tiny goose bumps on her arms.

      At well over six foot, Blue was a big man—lean, powerfully built, with overlong black hair that dragged on his collar and a harsh, weather-tanned face that proclaimed him a man equal to the elements. The deep blue of his eyes beneath his hat brim met hers with blunt force, the hard sparkle in their depths no-nonsense and faintly dangerous. With his black Stetson, chambray shirt, worn Levi’s and boots, all it would take was a six-gun strapped to his lean hips to make him look like an old-time gunslinger/outlaw.

      Another shiver, this one deep down, sent a virtual earthquake of awareness through her as he came to a halt less than an arm’s length away. Blue Sumner was more blatantly male than any man she’d ever come in contact with, and suddenly everything female in her reacted with a shocking mixture of attraction and feminine fear.

      She was still staring, a bit dazed, when one corner of his hard mouth turned up in a curve that was un-amused. СКАЧАТЬ