The Forbidden Texan. Sara Orwig

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The Forbidden Texan - Sara Orwig


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      The question startled him. What was it about her that made him wonder about kisses? She wasn’t his type. She was practical, business-minded. But each time he looked at her, there was that wild undercurrent of awareness that he couldn’t figure out. Each time it happened, she looked as startled as he felt, and he was certain it was not something that she wanted to have happen and not something that happened often to her. It didn’t with him—not to this extent. Especially when it wasn’t some gorgeous woman who flirted and wanted to stir up a reaction from him.

      If they were going to live in the same house, he didn’t want to have any kind of sizzling reaction to Emily.

      So why couldn’t he stop imagining that thick long blond hair, which was now tied behind her head with a yellow scarf, untied and falling over her shoulders? Or splayed against his naked chest? The minute those visions played out in his mind’s eye, he tried to think of something else. Unsuccessfully.

      When she stood, he came to his feet at once, his gaze flicking over her swiftly. “I suppose we’re through now,” she said.

      “We are for today.” He held out his hand, half doing it to be polite because they would be working closely together and living in the same house for a while. But the minute her hand touched his, he felt the same startling awareness of the contact and saw her blink and stare at him.

      “I’ll pick you up Friday afternoon,” he said after clearing his throat hoarsely. “I’ll call first.” He looked her over again. “It’s been...interesting. This is the longest I’ve ever had a polite conversation with a Kincaid.”

      She smiled slightly. “You’re long overdue then. We really don’t bite and are quite harmless.”

      “Your brothers aren’t. Maybe that was back in high school.” He followed her out of her office and down the hall to the front door. She didn’t look the type for perfume, but there was some faint enticing scent that he didn’t recognize. She was taller than most women he went out with, but still at least seven or eight inches shorter than he was. He opened the door and glanced back at her. “See you Friday.”

      “I’m still in a daze. I’m going to call Vivian. You’re certain she knows about the check?”

      “Absolutely.”

      When the door closed behind him, he let out his breath in a gush. Keep your distance. And keep your hands off. She was a Kincaid, and he expected some flak from at least one of her brothers. Some of the Kincaids and some of the Ralstons took this feud seriously and had a big dislike for the other family. Emily and he needed to move on this task and get through it. Yes, that’s what he needed to do. Get the job done and forget her.

      Dreading talking to Mr. and Mrs. Warner, Jake drove up to the familiar mansion spread over four acres of well-kept grounds with tall oaks. He’d spent hours here from the days when his mother dropped him off to play with Thane and on through high school when he and Thane would drive there after school at least three or four times a week. Thane had had a cook and there were snacks and a game room, a poolroom, an enclosed pool, a basketball court—Jake’s family had had all of those at their house, as well, but Thane had had a tennis court at his and Jake hadn’t. Sometimes a bunch of friends went with them, sometimes just Jake and Thane. Thane’s dad was friendly and had always been interested in Jake and what he was doing at school.

      Memories assailing him, Jake walked up the wide front steps to the porch with tall columns. A huge brass chandelier hung from the porch ceiling. He rang the chimes and a butler opened the door, smiling at Jake.

      “Mr. Jake, welcome home.”

      “Thank you, Clyde.”

      “Come in. Mr. and Mrs. Warner are expecting you. They’re in the great room. We’re so happy to see you.”

      “I’m glad to be here. It’s good to see you. I wish Thane could be here with me,” he said as they walked through a wide entryway where an elegant cherrywood table held a massive vase filled with white-and-purple orchids.

      “So sad. They miss him. We all do, because he was a fine man.” Clyde knocked on an open door and as they entered, he announced, “Mr. Jake is here.”

      Jake crossed the room to Celeste Warner, Thane’s mother, who looked older and frailer than when he’d left. She was short and he leaned over to hug her lightly. As tears filled her eyes, she hugged him in return.

      “I’m sorry he didn’t make it home. We did what we could. It just wasn’t enough,” Jake said with a knot in his throat. Thane should have been here with him now.

      Thane’s father, Ben Warner, walked up, holding out his hand. Jake was surprised at how much Thane’s dad had changed. His hair was whiter, he had more lines on his face than Jake remembered and he was thinner.

      When they shook hands, Thane’s dad slipped his arm around Jake and hugged him. “Thank God you made it home. It was bad losing Thane. I’m glad I didn’t lose both of you,” Ben said, and Jake hurt even more because this brought back painful memories. He hurt for Thane’s parents, who had lost their oldest son, a son who had been unique and a super guy.

      “Come sit and talk to us,” Ben said, turning to sit in a leather recliner.

      “Are you getting settled in now that you’re back?” Celeste asked.

      “Yes,” Jake said. “I’m just glad to be home.”

      “We’re glad you’re here. What are your plans—a ranch or back to the family investment firm?” Thane’s dad asked.

      “Before I was in the army, I lived in Dallas and went to the investment office every day. Now I want to be a rancher. I’m ready for some open space and the challenges of ranch life. I’m still on the investment firm board and a couple of other boards, so I’ll be in Dallas often. I’ll be around.” He settled back in the chair to talk to them. “I hear you are grandparents.” Thane’s sister, Camilla, had a seventeen-month-old.

      “Yes, here’s Ethan’s picture. He’s the image of his daddy,” Ben said, handing a framed picture to Jake.

      Jake looked at the little boy with his mop of black curls. “He does look like his dad.” Jake knew his dad well. Noah Grant was one of the rangers he’d served with, and one of the buddies who had made promises to Thane. Noah had been charged with bringing important packages to Thane’s sister and his nephew, and in the process he reignited his romance with Camilla and came face-to-face with the son he never knew he had.

      Ben’s eyes softened as he took back the photo. “Camilla and Noah seem so happy and so is their little Ethan. We see them often.”

      “Where are Logan and Mason?” he asked about Thane’s younger brothers.

      “Logan is president of our drilling company. Mason has taken over for me at the bank. They don’t live far from us and you’ll probably see them when you’re in Dallas. Both are single.”

      After about twenty minutes Jake stood and said he had an appointment and needed to go. It took another ten minutes to tell Thane’s mother goodbye and Thane’s dad left with him, strolling back through the mansion, across the stone floor of the entryway and out to the front porch.

      Jake turned to shake his hand. To his surprise, Ben hugged him again and stepped away. “I’m so relieved you made it home.”

      “Thank you, sir. I’m sorry Thane didn’t. We all did what we could for him.”

      “I know you did,” Ben said and wiped his eyes. He placed his hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Come see us sometimes. Please keep in touch. You’re family to us. You’re another son, Jake. You always have been.”

      “Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me. You’re the one who’s been a real dad to me. I’m sorry for your loss and I’ll keep in touch,” he said, thinking of Thane. “We all miss him.”

      When he closed his car door and drove down the long drive, he let


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