The Price of Passion (Texas Cattleman's Club: Rags to Riches 1)

He blew out a breath and turned his head to look at her. Beth’s hair was a tangle of gold, and her green eyes shone in the afternoon light. Her mouth was bruised and puffy, and she had one leg hooked across him.

All he wanted was to gather her up and have her again. To feel that magical moment when his body became a part of hers. But as they’d already discovered, that wouldn’t solve anything.

“That was...”

“Yeah, it was,” he said, and shifted, going up on one elbow to look down at her.

She pushed a hand through her hair, swiping it back from her face. Afternoon sunlight drifted through the windows, slanting across the bed, throwing her eyes into shadow. He used to be fascinated by her eyes, Cam thought. Everything she felt was reflected there. He always knew what she was thinking because her eyes kept no secrets.

But now she guarded her mysteries. There was a wall between them now—and a part of him was grateful for it.

Their connection was fragile and it should probably stay that way. He wasn’t looking for the kind of relationship with Beth that he’d once dreamed of. Today they were different people. The fact that the heat between them had only intensified didn’t change a damn thing. In fact, it complicated things further.

“You don’t have to get that look on your face,” Beth warned.

“What look?”

“The one that clearly reads, How close is the nearest exit?”

He scowled at her. “Think you know me so well, do you?”

“Absolutely,” she said, then tipped her head to one side. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong. That’s not what I was thinking at all.”

“Great,” she said. “Then what?”

“Just that this doesn’t—”

“Matter? I know. We both knew that going in, didn’t we?”

All he could do was stare at her. Why was she being so damn reasonable? Where was her fury from earlier? Was she really so able to compartmentalize this and tuck it away into the back of her mind? He had been prepared to pull back, to explain that they couldn’t go forward from here. Now that she’d done it for him, Cam wasn’t sure what to say.

“Relax, Camden.” Beth scooted up higher on the pillows banked behind them. “I don’t want anything from you.”

That was a little insulting. “Why the hell not?”

“Because when I needed you, you left.” She shrugged. “Why would I make the same mistake all over again?”

A punch to the gut would have been easier to take. “Are we back to that, then?”

“We never left it. There are too many unanswered questions hanging in the air between us, Cam.”

“You want answers?” He’d kep

t his mouth shut about what had happened fifteen years ago. He’d never talked about it and had rarely thought about it once his decision to marry Julie had been made. Seemed like the time had come.

“You want answers?” he repeated. “Fine. Here’s one. Up to you if you believe it or not.”

She watched him through suspicious eyes. “Go ahead.”

“Burt was right. Julie was pregnant when we got married.”

“Yeah, thanks. I know that part.” She pulled the edge of the duvet up and over her as if it were a shield.

“What you don’t know is the baby wasn’t mine.” He’d never said those words out loud before. Cam rubbed the center of his chest, aware that it felt as though a heavy weight had suddenly been lifted off of him.

Her brow furrowed, and she looked at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. “What? Why? Who? Why did you marry her if it wasn’t your baby? Who was the father?”