Sarah's Surrender (Ranchers of Chatum County 2)

“John, I don’t—”

His hands landed on her upper arms and gripped her tightly. “You won’t speak to him again. No text messages, nothing. You won’t try to be his friend, you’ll just end it with a clean break. That’s the way it’s going to be.”

“You don’t have the right to tell me how to conduct my life or who I can be friends with.”

“I’m not going to share you with anybody. I’m damn sure not going to share you with an ex-fiancé.”

“I’m not yours to share.”

He fired back immediately, confidence lacing his voice, “You will be.”

He watched as she sucked in a breath and began squirming against his hands that still held her.

It was enough that he had her agreement to end the engagement. It was enough for now. He let her go and moved back to his seat. As she scrambled back over the console, he put the car in drive and prepared to pull away.

He gave her one last look, reached across and lifted her silky face to his. He brushed his lips across hers just once. “Buckle up.”

****

They sat across from each other in a dark corner of a restaurant on San Antonio’s famed River Walk. Sarah had only been to the tourist spot once before, many years ago, and she hadn’t visited the restaurant they were in now.

They’d arrived about an hour before, and every since then, John had sat across from her with a highly satisfied look on his face. There was a bottle of white wine on the table, but they only sipped at it while they ate, each for their own reasons. She desperately needed to keep a clear head, and she imagined he didn’t want to drink much because he would have to drive home.

They’d done nothing but chit-chat since they sat down, nothing but innocuous small talk since the waiter had taken their orders and brought their food. Her hands shook as she fiddled with her wine glass, and she focused on bringing the conversation around to the subject they were here for. “I’ve put some numbers together.”

“Have you?” His voice was bland.

“Yes.”

“And?”

She sucked in a breath and held it. “It’s going to take several million.”

“I realize that, sweetheart.” His tone was mild, but she didn’t think it reflected his inner feelings.

“It’s a good plan. I know you live in a different town, but you may remember there was a big bond vote a few years ago.”

“Yeah, I remember. It didn’t pass.”

“No, obviously, it didn’t. But it’s a good idea. Top Hill is a lower income town. The per capita is quite low. That’s the reason it didn’t pass. The voters couldn’t stand a tax hike. But I promise you, the idea will work.”

“Probably. But this is something that would be huge for the private sector to pull off. Do you have any idea what you’d be biting off? The zoning commission, the kind of building permits it would take?”

“Yes. It’s more than one person can handle. And it’s way more than I can accomplish before I go back to Dallas.”

Sarah watched him scowl. As the frown encompassed his face, his whole countenance turned dark and menacing. Was that from just the mention of Dallas? The guy was an enigma, that was for certain.

“Tell me why I should fund this,” he said in an angry voice as he took a sip of wine.

“Well, like you said, it’s a worthy write-off. And it would be good for the town—”

“I live in a different town,” he disputed.

“Yes, but it would be good for the children—”

He interrupted her again. “In fact, it would be better for my town if Top Hill school closed all together. The kids would be bussed to Duluth, and we’d get the revenue.”

“Yes, but—”

“So tell me how funding this project wouldn’t be stabbing my own friends and neighbors in the back?”

“Stabbing them in the b-back?”

“Yeah. How is spending my money on your school, your town, good for me?”

“I haven’t quite thought of it like that. I don’t think a good deed for Top Hill will hurt Duluth, though. Duluth doesn’t have the revenue now, and they really don’t need it.”

“The citizens of Duluth won’t see it that way. All they’ll see is me, spending my money elsewhere when it would be better spent at home.”

Sarah studied him quietly and tried to hit him where it would annoy him the most, his ego. “You don’t seem like the kind of man who would let other people try to tell you how to spend your money.”

“Nice try, babe, but you’re trying to tell me how to spend my money, aren’t you?”

“What do you want me to say?” she asked him quietly.

“I want a reason for spending my money for the benefit of Top Hill.” He pushed his wine glass away and took a drink of water as he waited for her answer.

She stalled only briefly. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“That’s not going to cut it, Sarah.”

Her chest heaved in agitation. “You told me you’d consider it!”

“I am considering it. You’re just not giving me any facts.”

“I don’t know what to tell you! The town will die if nothing is done.” She paused and searched his face. “Please. I don’t want that to happen. I don’t want it to dwindle and die. I want—”

“What about what I want?” he asked her bluntly.

Sarah’s gaze was caught and held by his. His eyes radiated a savage, inner fire that licked streams of heat through her middle. They were sharp, assessing her as if he knew a secret that she didn’t. A secret she wasn’t going to like.

Sarah stiffened imperceptibly and sat up straighter in her chair. “What do you want?”

She held herself still while he reached across the table and lifted her left hand and laced her fingers with his, their palms touching. His grip tightened, then loosened, then tightened again in a rhythmical pattern that sent coils of sensual fire radiating through her and landing like a million butterflies set off in her stomach.

“First, I want you to realize that I already donate more than my fair share to charity. Enough to soothe my conscience, and more than even the good church people expect of me. And I want you to understand that the only reason, the only damn reason I’d ever even consider this is because you’re asking me to.”

“But—I thought we were going to keep—things—separate.”

“We are,” he said firmly.

“But I don’t understand—”

“We’re going to keep things separate as much as we possibly can,” he paused and rubbed his thumb over her now-bare ring finger, “but there’s no getting away from the fact that if you weren’t who you are, I’d have sent you packing when you were in my office.”

She closed her eyes. “No, I don’t want it to be this way. Don’t say any more.”