The Paternity Pact (Texas Cattleman's Club: Rags to Riches 3)

“Did your mother come?”

The question made Harley wince. “No. I’m afraid she thinks Zest is just some foolish lark of mine. She has no wish to understand how much good we’ve done.”

Piper’s dark green eyes shone with sympathy. “I’m sure that’s not true. She’s just preoccupied with everything that’s going on with the company at the moment.”

Although Harley bit down on her lower lip to keep from disagreeing, something must’ve shown in her expression because her aunt sighed.

“I’ll talk to her,” Piper promised.

“It won’t do any good.” Harley made no effort to fight the resentment simmering in her. “She doesn’t believe in me. She never has. Why do you think I’ve been gone these last five years?”

Piper’s eyes widened at her niece’s grim tone, but nodded in understanding. “Family can be hard sometimes. Mostly they bring out our best, but as in the case with your mother, sometimes they can’t help but be compelled to turn us into the worst of ourselves.”

“That’s sure true.”

“It’s good that you’re home.” Piper squeezed her arm. “You’ve been missed.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Harley said, although she wasn’t sure her absence had any impact on her family. Except maybe relief.

She offered her aunt a wobbly smile, withholding the fact that she intended

to return to Thailand and the work that she’d left there as soon as possible. Too much was wrong in the world and she wanted to be a part of the solution. She didn’t want to upset Piper with her future plans, but she had no intention of staying in Royal.

Three

The day after the Zest fundraiser, Grant struggled to stay focused on the simplest tasks. Fortunately, he had only two patient appointments and no procedures scheduled. Despite his staff’s efficiency, he routinely oversaw all aspects of his practice and when he declared at noon that he intended to take the afternoon off, they all gaped at him. Grant pretended not to notice their confusion as he exited the clinic and headed to his car.

With eight hours to occupy himself before his meeting with Harley, Grant headed to the Texas Cattleman’s Club for lunch, hoping to distract himself with conversations about rising feed prices, coping with new government regulations or the slow but steady transformation of land use from grazing cattle to hunting.

Unfortunately, the club was buzzing about the troubles besetting Wingate Enterprises and the latest scandal surrounding the discovery of drugs on WinJet’s property. As he settled at a table, he overheard a nearby group of women discussing the opening of a DEA investigation into the company’s apparent drug smuggling and wondered how Harley was coping with the upheaval her family was going through.

Of course, the instant she popped into his mind, any hope of a peaceful meal vanished. Never one to speculate, Grant found himself consumed by curiosity. What was Harley so intent on saying to him after five years of silence? And why did they need to speak in private?

Frustrated at having so long to wait for answers, after Grant left the TCC, he spent a couple hours in his home gym. Usually working up a sweat enabled him to disengage his mind after a stressful day, but last night’s encounter with Harley had stirred up emotions he’d thought long buried. Dismayed that he was no less agitated after a vigorous circuit of lifting and cardio, he lingered in the shower for a long time and grappled with vivid memories of his time with Harley.

The night of the TCC ball, he’d checked them into a hotel suite and spent the next two days utilizing every inch of the space, including the large shower. The sounds she’d made as she came beneath his mouth returned to him with vivid and arresting clarity. His recall was strengthened by the reawakening of his sharp hunger the previous evening when he’d spied Harley across the room. That weekend had reduced every encounter he’d had with other women to insubstantial shadows. Including his marriage to Paisley.

Guilt stabbed at him. His inability to disengage his feelings for Harley had interfered with his relationship with his wife and caused the eventual destruction of his marriage. He’d never been in love with Paisley. By marrying her, he’d elevated her position in Royal and given her access to his significant wealth, thinking that was enough to keep her happy. He’d been wrong. She’d wanted more than fondness and fidelity from him. Too late, he discovered that she’d married him believing he’d come to love her. And like with his family, he’d been unable to live up to her expectations. He couldn’t help how his intellect caused him to negotiate through life and it frustrated him to be so misunderstood by those closest to him.

His doorbell chimed, announcing a visitor. Never one to let stressful situations get to him, Grant caught himself sucking in a deep breath to steady his nerves. Irritated, he marched toward the foyer and threw open the front door. Harley stood on his front porch, looking cool and composed with her long brown hair pulled back from her face in a simple high pony and floral earrings dangling from her delicate earlobes.

She wore a short-sleeved teal dress with a round neckline that showed no hint of cleavage. His heart boomed in his chest as he took in the way her modest knit garment flowed over her torso before flaring into a wide skirt with a knee-skimming hemline. This wasn’t an outfit for seducing a past lover and he grew more puzzled at what had motivated her to ask for this meeting.

While he’d been surveying her, she’d taken in his white shirt and charcoal slacks. When his gaze returned to meet hers, their eyes locked for a brief second. The appreciation smoldering in her gaze sparked a matching heat inside him. Inviting her to his house was playing with fire. But dammit, he hadn’t felt this alive since she left town.

Harley cleared her throat. “Hello, Grant.”

“Good evening.”

He plunged his hands into the front pockets of his slacks to keep from capturing her wrists and pulling her into his arms. Since they’d bumped into each other the night before, he’d become aware of a deep unfulfilled hunger gnawing at him. That neither time nor space had dimmed his appetite for her irritated him to no end.

“Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

She skimmed her palms down the front of her dress, smoothing the material in a nervous gesture that drew his attention to the lines of tension around her mouth.

“Of course.”

Her anxious energy hummed across the space between them, reminding him how she’d trembled as he’d undressed her that first time. He might have wondered at her jitters that night if he hadn’t been equally agitated as her dress had fallen away to reveal the most perfect breasts he’d ever seen. Unbidden, his gaze slid to her chest. Her breath hitched.