Calder Born, Calder Bred (Calder Saga 4)

“Never mind the luggage,” Dyson told him. “They’ll unload it and stow it in the trunk of my car.”

A horn honked as a silver Cadillac whipped into the parking lot next to the hangar. Dyson raised his hand in greeting, then walked briskly toward the car, indifferent to the glaring heat. Ty’s long, lazy strides had no difficulty keeping up with him. A young woman climbed

out of the driver’s side of the car and came forward to greet them.

Ty stared. He couldn’t help it. Dark and vivacious, she was everything both wholesome and sexy in a female. Her dark sable hair was long and softly curled about her shoulders in a style that was purely fresh and feminine. Her complexion had a clean look to it, glowing golden with a light suntan and radiating a warmth that he seemed to feel in his blood. The cherry-pink color on her lips matched the spaghetti-strapped sundress she was wearing.

Graceful as a doe, she ran up to her father and put both hands on his shoulders to lean up and kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry I’m late, Daddy. I hope you haven’t been on the ground too long.”

“We just got off the plane.” He returned the kiss, then directed her attention to Ty. “I want you to meet my daughter, Tara Lee. This is Ty Calder.”

When those velvety dark eyes turned on him, Ty was dazzled. He had dated some attractive girls. He’d lost his virginity shortly after he’d turned seventeen during a wild, partying weekend in Miles City and had met up with the same experienced lady since. But this was beauty.

“How do you do, Tara Lee.” His voice was husky and low, vibrating with the inner turmoil she was stirring.

“Ty Calder.” She repeated his name, a provocative pair of dimples appearing near the corners of her mouth. “Of the Calder family?” She slid a sidelong look at her father for confirmation, a hint of mocking, but not unkind, humor in her voice.

“The same.” He nodded.

“Welcome to Texas, Ty Calder.” She offered him her slim hand. He took it and held it. His gaze skittered down to the bodice of her sundress and observed the shimmer of perspiration collecting in the little bit of cleavage that showed. Firm young breasts rose slightly with the rhythm of her breathing. “Will you be staying long?”

“Yes . . . I’m pleased to say.” His glance came back to meet her steady and knowing gaze. The faint smile that lifted the corners of her lips didn’t reject his interest.

“Ty has enrolled in college here. I believe I mentioned it to you,” E. J. Dyson inserted dryly.

“I remember that you were busy twisting arms on the admissions board to get somebody’s son accepted at the university.” She shrugged diffidently, bare shoulders gleaming golden in the waning sunlight. With a small tug, she slipped her hand free of his grip, gently teasing him with a look because he’d held it too long. Ty simply smiled, because he wanted her to know that he was attracted to her—more than attracted, he was captivated. “Daddy does business with so many people that I can’t begin to keep track of who is who.”

“Except the Calders?” He taunted her lightly with the phrase she had used earlier, marking his family as something separate.

“The stories Daddy brings home about your ranch up there—I’ll bet most of them aren’t to be believed.” Her voice had a genteel southern accent, bearing little resemblance to Dyson’s hard, twanging drawl. Ty could have listened to her talk all night. “Does your daddy really own a ranch almost as big as Rhode Island?”

“Close enough.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime,” she declared and linked an arm with her father, laughing up at him. “So I can compare stories and discover whether you’ve been telling me some tall tales.”

She seemed to forget about Ty as the trio walked to the silver Cadillac. She smiled at the men loading the luggage in the trunk of the car, and Ty noticed the way the men fell all over themselves in their haste to respond. It was vaguely irritating.

“I see Tara Lee persuaded you to let her drive your car,” Dyson said to his partner, George Stricklin, who waited by the Cadillac.

“Yes, she did,” he admitted. Tara was the one emotional weakness Stricklin permitted himself. From the first moment he’d seen her as a teenager, she had reminded him of the China doll his mother had kept locked in a glass case. It was an object to be looked at and admired, but not touched. He regarded Tara with the same distant adoration.

5

After listing his major in agriscience and animal husbandry with a minor in business administration, Ty signed up for more than a full load of classes. During rush week, he waited until he found out what sorority Tara Lee Dyson was joining before he pledged to a fraternity. When it came to the hazing that accompanied his initiation into the fraternity, Ty was a pro at handling it. His only other extracurricular activity was the college rodeo team.

Once the initial period of adjustment had passed and Ty settled into the routine of university life, it seemed the first semester came to an end almost before it started. Despite the two weekends he’d spent at the Dyson home and the intermixing of their respective fraternity and sorority, he had spent little time with Tara. With her looks and personality, she had become one of the most popular girls on campus in the first month. The competition for her attention was fierce.

His frat house had a Christmas party on the weekend before the holiday vacation period began. For most of the evening, Ty was forced to watch Tara laughing and dancing with others. Twice he had managed to ask her to dance, and both times someone had taken advantage of his pledge status and cut in. His frustration was reaching an intolerable level when he finally saw his opening. Tara had just emerged from the powder room to rejoin the party. Ty intercepted her before any of his fraternity buddies noticed and steered her away from the common room into the small sitting alcove under the stairwell.

“Ty Calder, why ever did you bring me here?” The look in her eyes overruled the mild protest of her words and told him that she knew.

“Where else can I spend five minutes alone with you without someone interrupting us?” he countered huskily, her loveliness stirring up all the rawness of his desire.

“Daddy was wondering if you are planning to come to the house this weekend before you leave for home,” she murmured.

The bench settee was hardly satisfactory, but it was the only seating available. She sat at an angle, facing him, with her shoulders against the corner. Her position kept him at a distance, only their knees touching as Ty leaned toward her, a hand spread on the leather-covered bench cushion near her hip. The faint gold light brought out the ebony sheen of her hair and the creamy smoothness of her skin. Her lips were cherry-red and shining a silent invitation that knotted the ache in his loins.

“Are you going to be there?” His want was in his voice, and he took no trouble to conceal that his decision was hinged on her presence.