This isnt happening, she whispered.
Something sure as hell is, he muttered, sounding angry and lost too all of a sudden. I should have stood my ground and stayed in London.
You could always just go.
No, its too late now. The damage is done. His eyes devoured hers, and she thought he stared straight into her soul, which had always belonged only to him. Ive seen you. Ive touched you. And Im curious about a lot of things.
She didnt understand the stillness that possessed her, held her and him. Was she in a trance? Was he? Clasped tightly against his tall, muscular body, his heat flooding her, she could barely think, barely breathe.
Im going to hate you for this, she whispered, and then she kissed him.
Dear Reader,
While I grew up in a city in south Texas, the rest of my family lived in a small Texas ranching town near the Panhandle. One of the highlights of my summers back then was visiting my cousins up north and riding their horse, Gypsy, bareback all day long. Maybe Gypsy didnt enjoy this as much as we did because she regularly bucked us off.
Stories about independent women who love horses became a part of me early on. Ive always liked reunion romances too. So, why not a reunion romance about a horse woman and the cowboy who left her behind to become a billionaire in London?
Six years later, when Luke returns home, Caitlyn is a widow with a son. Her ranch is heavily mortgaged and she is in danger of losing her horses.
Luke is the last man Caitlyn wants to have anything to do with. When Luke learns her son is his, he offers to help her for a price. Of course, the price they will both have to pay for their new life together is love.
Enjoy,
Ann Major
P.S. Visit me at www.annmajor.com!
About the Author
ANN MAJOR lives in Texas with her husband of many years and is the mother of three grown children. She has a masters degree from Texas A&M at Kingsville, Texas, and is a former English teacher. She is a founding board member of the Romance Writers of America and a frequent speaker at writers groups.
Ann loves to write; she considers her ability to do so a gift. Her hobbies include hiking in the mountains, sailing, ocean kayaking, traveling and playing the piano. But most of all she enjoys her family. Visit her website at www.annmajor.com.
Marriage
at the Cowboys
Command
Ann Major
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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This book is dedicated to Stacy Boyd and Shana Smith
and the Desire team. Their names do not appear on
the cover, but they worked very hard to improve
this story, and I am deeply in their debt.
One
Desperation mounting, Caitlyn Wakefield stared at her accounting ledgers. There was no way she could make her next mortgage payment to Sheik Hassan Bin Najjar. No way.
So, what would she say to Hassans mysterious honorary son, Raffi Bin Najjar, when he showed up today to check on her operation?
She had no clue.
Shed gone over the books numerous times, hoping shed figure out how to make her next payment and get her ranch on a viable financial footing, but all she saw were too many fixed expenses without enough income.
Even if she asked Hassan for more time, which she believed he would give her, she needed to make some serious and painful adjustments or shed just be deeper in debt down the line. She couldnt expect Hassan to bankroll her forever.
The awful numbers began to blur and her head to pound.
She hated disappointing Hassan. She wanted to make him proud of her. But the sales shed counted on hadnt materialized. And she was again on the verge of losing her ranch, just as shed been six months ago when Hassan had helped her by buying her mortgage.
It was nothing short of a miracle that Hassan, one of the worlds richest sheiks, had become her friend, benefactor and banker. The fact that he was wealthy and she was not and that he spent most of his time in the Middle East and Europe while she lived in Texas would have been more than enough to keep them from ever knowing one another but for their mutual passion for Thoroughbreds.
Theyd met by chance at the September yearling sales in Keeneland, Virginia, more than a year ago. Her timely advice had saved Hassan from buying an overpriced animal that had gone lame a mere four months later during a race, causing a jockeys death. The animal had been destroyed. The sheik had written her a note, thanking her, saying he would have hated being involved in a tragedy of that magnitude.
Then, six months ago, hed phoned her again when Sahara, one of his most promising Thoroughbreds, developed a problem with starting gates. Caitlyn had been stunned by the sheiks offer to come to his stables in Deauville to work with the animalfor three times her normal fee.
It was just after her success with Sahara that hed gotten to the bottom of her financial distress over a dinner theyd shared. Soon after, he bought her note from the bank.
Considering how much Hassan had done for her, she hated disappointing him. What could she say to his honorary son that would reassure Hassan?
Frustrated, she slammed the books shut. Only when her gaze fell to the small snapshot of her son, Daniel, riding bareback did her expression soften.
Hed been forbidden to ride the horse by himself, of course. Smiling, she picked up the picture and stared at his slim, dark likeness. Even when he was driving her crazy by being too curious or foolhardy, he filled her long days with joy. He was five, all boy and way too big for his britches a lot of the time, but she remembered how proud shed been of him at Keeneland last year. Hassan, too, had been impressed with Daniel. So much so that hed told her about his only biological son, Kalil, whom hed nearly lost to a kidnapping in Paris a few years earlier.
Thats when I made Raffi, the man who rescued Kalil, my honorary son, Hassan had said.
She had smiled politely, her mind on the animals in the various pens and on Daniel, whod been darting about under their feet.
Your son reminds me of Raffi. So much energy. Once that energy is harnessed, he will be formidable.
Really? shed replied, not paying much attention to Hassans remark.
Yes, even Daniels eyes resemble Raffis. They are the same shade of green. Its an unusual color in my part of the world.
In ours, too, shed said absently. His father had green eyes.
Theyd talked more, about Texas and her ranch. Hed asked for a card.
Raffi once lived in Texas in your vicinity, I believe. Hassans gaze, more intent than before, had been on Daniel.
Ever since that first meeting at Keeneland, in all his calls and notes, Hassan always asked about Daniel. His grandfatherly interest in her son had become one of the chief reasons she liked the sheik so much.
Setting down Daniels picture, she tried to refocus on the problem at hand. She hated that she could think of nothing that would turn Wild Horse Ranch around. Not that she wasnt used to being broke. When she was a child, her parents had constantly worried about bills and creditors. Never would she forget the day her father had told her and her mother that hed lost their ranch. When theyd been forced to move into town and lease land for their ranching operation, shed felt shattered. Nearly as shattered as shed be if she couldnt win Raffi Bin Najjars sympathy.
Chewing a fingernail, she went to the window and stared out at the sea of brown grasses. The early December air had been cool and crisp an hour before dawn, when shed arisen. Her only indulgence before coming to her office was a single cup of strong black coffee.
To give me strength, she thought as she circled the cold cup with her fingertips.
What could she say to a stranger who probably knew little about ranching, even if hed spent time in Texas? How could hea wealthy, sophisticated man, who lived in Londonpossibly appreciate the calamity the worst drought in decades had wrought on her ranch and horse farm? How could a bachelor sympathize when she told him shed been distracted and unfocused after her husbands death, when shed had her grief, his work and hers and her son to take care of? How could a billionaire understand the effect of an entire country mired in recession? Everybody wanted to sell their horses, not buy hers. Her income had diminished while her expenses had continued to mount. Business was picking up. But not quickly enough.
Swigging back the last of her cold coffee, she tried not to think about being the second Cooper to lose the ranch despite all her sacrifices to save it. The biggest sacrifice being her marriage to Robert, when shed found herself pregnant and alone nearly six years ago. Not wanting to remember what had led to her wedding day, she fled to the stalls to feed her beloved horses.
Sensing her anxiety from the rapid ring of her boot heels on the concrete floor of the barn, Angel and the other horses swung their necks around and watched her with their concerned brown eyes. Their tails lifted and swished expectantly while the barn cats swirled at her feet.
Odd, the profound comfort she always felt when alone in the barn with these huge animals. Their soulful silence as she stroked them brought her peace during times of stress.
Angel nuzzled Caitlyns hand with her whiskery muzzle, searching for a treat. Robert was a bad manager, Caitlyn whispered to the horse, and Im no better. I spend too much money on all of you, my precious darlings. Angel nickered softly as if she understood. I need a miracle, and soon.
Angel snorted.
Well, its possible! Hassan says his son is a billionaire, that theres nothing he cant fix. Raffi made his fortune in a mere five years, you see, by buying distressed companies.
Perhaps she could convince him that a distressed ranch wasnt that different from a company in trouble. She felt a faint twinge of hope as she remembered what Hassan had said when hed shamelessly bragged about his son.
In a recent phone conversation, when shed complained of her escalating expenses, Hassan had told her she was a woman of talent who shouldnt have to worry about money.
I will send my son to devise a plan to put you on sound footing. He will know just what to do once he takes a look at your operation. He is a brilliant businessman.
Shed been scheduled to meet this brilliant businessman six months ago, when the sheik had flown her to Deauville to work with Sahara. Hassan had told her that Raffi would dine with them, but his son had been unexpectedly called away on business.
To prepare for their meeting today, shed researched Raffi, but there hadnt been many articles about him or a single good photograph. Most of the stories rehashed the event that had brought Hassan and Raffi together, a tale shed heard from Hassan.
Five years earlier, after Raffi had single-handedly confronted three terrorists to rescue Kalil, Hassan had hired him. Raffi advanced rapidly and, with the sheiks money behind him, had soon branched out on his own. The sheik had sealed their bond by making Raffi his honorary son. During their shared dinner in Deauville, Hassan had confided that he would like to see Raffi settle down and raise a family.
From what shed gleaned on the internet about the younger Mr. Bin Najjars private life, he went through women the way some men ran through cigars. But a woman like hera horse trainer who wore old jeans and rarely bothered with makeupwouldnt interest him.
What do you think, Angel? Should I go the extra mile and put on lipstick?
Angel whinnied enthusiastically, probably because Caitlyn was holding a carrot.
Lipstick it is, then. Maybe Mr. Raffi Bin Najjar will give us our very own miracle.
As Caitlyn stroked the mare, she relaxed.
Only later would she wonder why she hadnt had the slightest premonition that Raffi Bin Najjar was no stranger to Wild Horse Ranchor to her.
By the afternoon, Caitlyn had forgotten all about the need for lipstick. All it had taken for her day to spin hopelessly out of control was one phone call.
Lisa, her best friend and owner of the neighboring ranch, had sounded so desperate. You know bees stung Ramblin Man in his trailer last week, and he hasnt been himself. I have to move him to Moms stud barn to cover a couple of mares, but he simply will not load. I dont know what to do. Can you help me?
Only if you can ride him over here, and get someone to drive the trailer to my round pen, Caitlyn had said. Daniels ridden off somewhere with Manuel, and Ive got an important business meeting in a couple of hours with Mr. Bin Najjars son.
Oh, rightabout your mortgage.
Bin Najjars driver just phoned and said theyre on their way from the airport. So, Im stuck here.
Oh. Okay. I guess I can make that work.
So now, instead of going over her accounts, preparing for her meeting or bothering with lipstick, Caitlyn was standing in Ramblin Mans shadowy horse trailer, holding a lead rope attached to the stallions halter. Wild-eyed Ramblin Man had only put a single hoof in the trailer and was staring at her as if she were a giant.
Its okay, baby. Nothing to be scared of, Caitlyn said gently. Snapping the lead line, she backed Ramblin Man out of the trailer before he grew more alarmed. You were so brave to put a foot into the trailer.
When she gave the command to retreat, a relieved Ramblin Man jerked backward and raced away. Caitlyn jumped out of the trailer and watched him run. Shed bring him back in a minute or two. He needed to build up his courage to work on what theyd already accomplished.