“I think this is a mistake!”

“Maybe so,” Mitch replied.

He reached out and touched Lorna’s cheek. It sent a lightning bolt of energy through her.

One side of Mitch’s stern mouth quirked. “Smile at me, lady,” he said gruffly, “and enjoy yourself tonight.”

Lorna stared up at him, mesmerized. Why did it have to be Mitch Ellery whose touch affected her so strongly?

Nothing could come of this. Mitch Ellery was off-limits….

Susan Fox lives with her youngest son, Patrick, in Des Moines, Iowa, U.S.A. A lifelong fan of Westerns and cowboys, she tends to think of romantic heroes in terms of Stetsons and boots! In what spare time she has, Susan is an unabashed couch potato and movie fan. She particularly enjoys romantic movies and also reads a variety of romance novels—with a guaranteed happy ending—and plans to write many more of her own.

Susan Fox has a compelling writing style and loves to take her characters on an intense emotional journey! Share in the powerful feelings and dilemmas experienced by her hero and heroine in Susan’s latest novel. The path to true love never runs smoothly, but the thrill of the chase will keep you hooked!

Books by Susan Fox

HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®

3648—THE MAN SHE’LL MARRY

3668—THE WIFE HE CHOSE

3696—MARRIAGE ON DEMAND

Her Forbidden Bridegroom
Susan Fox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ONE

LORNA FARRELL would never forget the last time she’d seen Mitch Ellery. She’d been nineteen then. Now, five years later, the memory of that terrible day hung suspended in time, burned so deeply into her heart that it could have happened twenty minutes ago.

The certain knowledge that she would—perhaps in a matter of moments—come face-to-face with Mitch Ellery again caused her memory of him to go bright as lightning. She discreetly brushed at the sheen of cold perspiration on her forehead, dismayed by the slight tremor of her hand.

Lorna had faced trauma and hard times before, so she knew how to steel herself against them and survive. This time, though, she would face calamity knowing she deserved what happened next. Her sense of responsibility was too exacting for her to ignore the heavy load of guilt, hence the reason for the sick dread in her chest and the tremor of her hand.

She glanced cautiously at the young brunette who stood next to her in the elevator. Barely three years younger than Lorna’s own twenty-four, Kendra Jackson was blissfully unaware of Lorna’s anguish. As the silent car rocketed them to the twentieth floor of the San Antonio office building, Lorna studied Kendra’s pretty profile. Emotion stung her eyes, but she continued to stare, alert to any sign that her scrutiny had been detected. It could very well be that these moments with Kendra would be her last.

Once Mitch Ellery found out she’d had such close contact with his stepsister, he would likely speak to her boss, if not also to the police. And the good job she’d worked so relentlessly hard to get would not only be gone, but the circumstances of her firing might ensure great difficulty in securing another.

Kendra Jackson. Now the fiancée of her boss, John Owen; the young woman who’d persistently undermined Lorna’s aloof distance, even to the extent of having her boss put Lorna at her disposal for small tasks and favors. Kendra had seemed to set out to make Lorna a friend and minor confidant, and Lorna had been trapped by Kendra’s friendly persistence. The fact that Kendra had commandeered her time and attention had been a bittersweet joy that Lorna had faithfully kept to herself.

Because Kendra Jackson was a young woman too happy and carefree and in love—and too naïve about the secrets and selfish motives of others—to be aware that the very efficient Miss Farrell, whose time and attention she apparently coveted, was actually her half sister.

And therein lay the reason for Lorna’s guilt. She’d known who her sister was the moment she’d heard her name six months ago. To then see her walk into the office three weeks later to meet her new beau for lunch had been both thrill and torture.

Because Lorna could never allow her sister to know who she was. Their mother had wanted nothing to do with the out-of-wedlock daughter she’d given birth to, and she’d not only made that crystal clear five years ago, she’d followed it up by sending her stepson, Mitch Ellery, to hunt Lorna down and give her wishes emphasis.

Though at first he’d restated it all with a gruff kind of tact, the no-nonsense glitter in his dark eyes and the rocky sternness of his harsh face had given his quiet words the impact of a sledgehammer.

It hadn’t mattered to Mitch Ellery that she’d been as shocked as her mother had been by the surprise meeting at the ritzy San Antonio restaurant where Doris Jackson Ellery had been having lunch with him and his father. The unstable friend who’d arranged it all had been nowhere to be found by the time Mitch had caught up with Lorna later that afternoon.

Lorna had been intimidated enough by his sudden arrival at her one-room apartment that she’d defended herself by telling him the truth: that her well-meaning but misguided friend had arranged the surprise, that she’d been as shocked and horrified as her mother had been.

Lorna had watched his hard expression darken as she’d vowed to him that she wouldn’t for the world have vetoed her mother’s choice and approached her in such a public manner.

The explanation and sincere apology she’d made hadn’t mattered a whit to Mitch Ellery. Though he’d started out with her quietly and sternly, once she’d said all that, his deep voice had lowered to a growl and the scorn on his rugged face had cut her to the quick.

He’d told her bluntly that he thought she was lying, not only about her friend arranging the meeting, but about even suggesting that she could truly be Doris Ellery’s daughter. He’d hinted that it was her own stability that was in question before he’d declared her an inept opportunist using a cruel claim to extort money from a wealthy family. On his way out of her tiny apartment, he’d threatened to inform the police if any of them ever heard from her again.

She’d been devastated by that, devastated by the notion that her mother had apparently lied about having an out-of-wedlock child that she’d given up years ago, and mortified to be thought a liar herself.

Not that Lorna was unsympathetic to the plight of her mother. Doris Jackson Ellery was barely forty by now, so she must have given birth to Lorna when she was only sixteen years old. No doubt the circumstances of her out-of-wedlock pregnancy and the act of giving up her child for adoption had been troubling enough for Doris to go through.

Lorna completely understood that her mother must have surely meant to put that time in her life behind her and to possibly forget it had ever happened. Which was an indication to Lorna that her birth and the circumstances surrounding it must have been traumatic.

Though Doris had married Kendra’s father two years after she’d given up her first child and had many years later married the much older Jake Ellery, the respectable upscale lifestyle she lived now no doubt made her leery of the scandal that might be associated with giving up an out-of-wedlock child, should it become public knowledge. Not everyone had a liberal outlook on such things. And since Doris had obviously kept it a secret from the Ellerys, they might all have considered a belated revelation of the truth a betrayal of trust.

The Ellery family was an old one in the oil and ranching community, and their sterling reputation was no doubt paramount. Kendra herself had been a member of that family for years, and if there was ever a proper young lady, it was Kendra, who clearly had been brought up with strict traditional morals and taught to behave in a respectable manner.

Lorna was acutely aware of how important respectability was. She’d worked hard for her own respectability and the value of having a sterling reputation with no hint of moral failure attached to it was worth everything to her.

But it would all come crashing down now, her respectability would be sullied and her wonderful job humiliatingly snatched away. How else could Mitch Ellery take this situation that she’d allowed to go on because she’d wanted to keep her job and couldn’t bring herself to hurt Kendra’s feelings?

One look at Lorna and he’d know that the Miss Farrell he’d surely heard about was Miss Lorna Farrell. That Lorna Farrell. The Lorna Farrell he’d thought an unstable opportunist and a liar, the Lorna Farrell he’d threatened to turn in to the police.

Just then, Kendra turned her head and Lorna glanced away. The elevator whispered to a halt and Lorna gripped the strap of her handbag in preparation for the doors opening.

As they stepped out, Kendra’s sweet voice sent a fresh jolt of alarm across her ragged nerves.

“Why, Lorna…you’re shaking!” The younger woman touched her arm and they both halted as the elevator door closed behind them. “Are you all right?”

Lorna gave her a smile she hoped didn’t tremble. “I’m fine. I skipped lunch.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Kendra went on, and her genuine concern gave Lorna’s heart a poignant nudge. “We could have grabbed something to eat while we were out.”

“I wasn’t hungry, and I’m still not.” Lorna made herself smile gently at her sister. “You’ve had days like that lately, haven’t you? When you’re too excited about the wedding and too busy with plans to think about food, so you forget to eat until you get shaky?”

Kendra, despite her carefree manner, was slow to lose her concern. And that touched Lorna again.

“If you’re sure? You’ve been working hard lately, and I’ve been running you all over San Antonio. Maybe you should take a couple days off. You’ve more than earned the time.”

Lorna shook her head. “I love to work and I love the challenge. I’ll have all weekend to rest up and recharge, but—” she paused as they started to walk along the hallway to the open office doors “—I really need to get back to work. Your fiancé gave me a raft of correspondence this morning that I need to finish by five o’clock. I’ve got an apple at my desk to tide me over.”

Kendra’s expression lightened to uncertainty as they walked along and she searched Lorna’s tense features. Then she smiled. “All right. Thanks for all your help, but don’t work too hard.”

“Hard work is good for the soul,” she said as they walked past the wide doorway into the office.

As she said it, Lorna touched her sister’s arm. Not only was it a silent thanks for her concern and meant as a reassurance to the younger woman, but it was also a heartfelt need to indulge what might be her last opportunity to do so.

If she could think of an excuse for a business errand that would take her to another floor of the building, perhaps she could delay the inevitable. Perhaps it was still possible to contact Mr. Ellery privately, confess what she’d done, and explain her dilemma. Perhaps he’d take more kindly to that than an out-of-the-blue surprise.

Why hadn’t she done that months ago? Why hadn’t she been more sensible before things had gone so far?

She’d just glanced forward as they walked deeper into the large outer office when she noticed the big man who slowly rose from one of the wide sofas across from her desk.

Kendra saw him then too, because she called out, “Mitch! You’re early! I’m so sorry you had to wait.”

And then Kendra was walking to her stepbrother, outpacing Lorna who’d suddenly faltered at the sight of the tall, rugged man whose dark gaze lanced into hers and now cut over her like sharp blades.

Terror gripped her, but she tried mightily to glance away from him and walk calmly to her desk. She’d hoped she could somehow avoid a formal introduction, but she’d known from the moment Kendra had announced ten minutes ago that Mitch Ellery was picking her up that her chances were nil. The best she could do was to wrap herself in the aloof composure that few people other than Kendra and a handful of friends had managed to breach.

Lorna had no more than put her handbag into her desk drawer and casually reached over to press the button on her computer screen when Kendra got her attention.

“Lorna?”

Lorna made herself glance Kendra’s way and forced a faint smile as her sister approached the desk with Mitch Ellery at her side. Ever the proper, accommodating employee, Lorna stepped around the desk for the dreaded introduction.

“This is my stepbrother, Mitch Ellery,” Kendra began, and Lorna shifted her gaze to meet the fiery darkness in his eyes. “Mitch, this is Lorna Farrell.”

Lorna’s heart shot to her throat and pounded painfully. Three hard beats and she jerkily extended her icy hand. Three more hard beats as she waited for disaster.

The dizzying thought—that putting out a hand to Mitch Ellery was no less risky than putting her hand into the mouth of a ferocious beast—threatened her waning courage.

But then his hand came up and took hers. The callused strength in his fingers could have crushed hers with one casual flex, but his firm grip was as gentle as his skin was hot and work-hardened.

As he’d been that day years ago, he was dressed in a black suit, and his boots carried a muted shine. The suit was in keeping with his millionaire taste, but his callused hand, black boots and the pearl-gray Stetson he’d left on the sofa were proof that beneath his millionaire oilman look, he was a rancher.

And not only a rancher who ruled over a small empire but, from the rough feel of his palm, an everyday cowboy who sweated and bled and dirtied his hands to keep it his.

Long seconds stretched longer as they stared at each other, their hands clasped together as if neither of them could risk letting go just yet.

The hot bolts of feeling that radiated through her from the engulfing strength of his hand arrowed straight to every deeply primal, feminine place in her body and set off a series of quivering earthquakes.

Mitch’s voice was low and his drawl pronounced. “A pleasure, Miz Farrell.”

His fingers tightened ever so slightly, prompting her to stammer out a half choked, “Mr. Ellery, nice to m-meet you. Miss Jackson has mentioned you warmly.”

Mentioned you warmly? Warmly? Mortification scorched her face. Mitch’s dark gaze seemed to flicker then and the quiet rage she saw in his rocky expression eased. She continued to stare into his eyes, searching for some bit of mercy. The hint of reprieve was there, but she knew better than to take it as anything less than a momentary one.

And she was right, because she suddenly understood he wouldn’t confront her now. He’d never do it in front of Kendra. That meant he’d come after her as he had years ago. But this time their meeting would end differently. What she’d done by not rebuffing Kendra or quitting her job ensured that.

Kendra’s soft voice startled Lorna.

“My goodness. That must be one of the longest handshakes in history.”

Lorna reflexively jerked her hand from Mitch’s, but his big fingers tightened, forcing her to retreat much more slowly. To the young woman looking on, the separation of their hands must have seemed reluctant, and the slow release lingering. Like two people intensely attracted to each other who only stopped touching because propriety compelled them to behave circumspectly.

Lorna couldn’t look at Kendra’s face because she already sensed her speculation. Instead she looked past her sister and brought her hands together in front of her in a way she hoped appeared natural.

“If you’ll both excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

It all ended quickly then, though it felt as if it took hours for Kendra to pop into John Owen’s office with her stepbrother in tow, then scant minutes later, to walk out with Mitch and wave a goodbye to Lorna before they walked to the door then on into the hall.

The frantic clack of keystrokes during those endless moments ceased once Lorna heard the elevator door close. When she was able to recover, she paged back through the screens she’d just filled up with gibberish, then highlighted it all before she hit the delete button.

Determined to occupy her still frantic mind, she picked up the dictation she’d taken that morning and tried to settle down to real work. Concentration was difficult, and it was another frustrating eternity before she could focus enough to make headway with the correspondence. By the time she finally finished at ten minutes before five o’clock, her boss had signed the correspondence and gone home.

Fresh worry settled in then, and Lorna stayed in the office to finish the mail and organize everything else as much as possible. Who knew what these next hours would bring? It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that she would be prevented from returning to this office on Monday or that she might be facing a several day absence. Depending on what Mitch Ellery chose to do and if the police became involved as he’d threatened before, she might never have another opportunity to take care of a few odds and ends.

Once those minor tasks were finished, she removed the few small personal items from her desk drawers and from the top of the desk to put in her handbag. What wouldn’t fit in the handbag she put in the cloth satchel she normally used to carry extra work to and from the office. She had a last glance around, picked up the mail she would drop off at the post office, then switched off the lights on her way out.

It was a relief that most of the other workers had left the building hours ago so she wouldn’t have to put on a more friendly expression for anyone but the security guard. When she arrived in the lobby, her gentle smile and soft “good night” prompted the guard to step ahead of her to chivalrously open the door before he once again locked up for the night.

Her head began to pound once she reached the nearly empty parking lot where she’d left her car that morning. Trying hard to resign herself to the idea that Mitch Ellery might already have found her apartment and taken up a convenient place to keep watch for her, she started her car and drove out of the lot to the post office, then home.

There was no point in hoping for another reprieve or even a delay. The suspense of waiting even a few hours was already more than she could tolerate. She’d known this day was coming for months. She should have contacted Mitch Ellery long ago, but selfishness was the real reason she hadn’t.

Through Kendra, she’d got a taste of family that she’d hungered for since childhood, and she hadn’t had enough character to keep from taking it. And since the notion of family and home and belonging were the sweetest and most sacred things in the world to her, it made sense that those small tastes and rare glimpses of what mattered most would come at a steep price.

Now it was time to pay for those treasures in whatever coin Mitch Ellery decreed. Though she knew the payment was certain to devastate her, she’d pay quickly and, because she was guilty, she wouldn’t complain.

As she finally turned onto her street then pulled into the driveway between her building and the next one, she resisted the urge to glance around for unfamiliar vehicles. She made it all the way inside to her apartment before she heard the buzzer sound from the call box outside the front door of the small lobby downstairs.

The simultaneous knock on her apartment door came before she could cross to the tiny foyer and press the button on the intercom. Rattled, Lorna belatedly recognized the knock and gratefully opened the door.

Melanie Parker, her closest friend, greeted her with a wide smile that vanished the moment she glimpsed Lorna’s pale face.

“What’s wrong?”

Lorna let out a nervous breath. “I’m so glad you’re home. I need a favor.”

The buzzer on the call box sounded again and Lorna reached to grip Melanie’s hand. “You remember Mitch Ellery?”

Mellie’s pretty face showed her alarm. “Oh, no, Lorna. What can I do?”

Lorna felt the sting of grateful tears. Though Melanie knew she’d silently indulged her craving to spend time with her sister, Mellie had never made more than a couple of remarks to caution Lorna about the risk. She’d kept her disapproval mostly to herself because Melanie Parker, more than anyone, understood. But Mellie knew as much as Lorna did what Mitch’s arrival now meant.

“If he comes up,” Lorna said shakily, “I’d like you to check on me in a few minutes. Just a quick phone call, you don’t need to come over.”

Melanie was distressed by that. “Do you think he’d hurt you? Could he become violent?”

God, she hadn’t thought of that, but she doubted it. She shook her head.

“He’s very angry, but I don’t think he’d hurt me. Not like that. I’m probably overreacting.”

The buzzer on the call box sounded again and Lorna urged Melanie back into the hall.

“I can’t make him wait, Mel. Please. Call me in…twenty minutes?”

“That long?”

“Twenty minutes,” Lorna repeated and tried for a smile, suddenly feeling guilty for worrying her friend. “It’ll be all right.”

Melanie nodded, though she didn’t look convinced as she backed toward her apartment door across the hall. Lorna let her door close, then reached to press the intercom button before Mitch could ring again. If she was very, very lucky, the person downstairs would not be Mitch Ellery.

Her soft, “Yes,” sounded strained.

Mitch’s gravelly voice was curt. “This the right apartment?” He’d apparently recognized her voice.

No proper greeting, no “Is this Lorna Farrell?” no “May I please come in?” No acknowledgment that she had a choice in whether she buzzed him into the building or not. Almost as if the only thing that had made him pause from charging in like an angry bull was the need to make certain he’d be charging into the right apartment.

On the other hand, building security was sometimes lax. He could have waited until another tenant came along to slip past the locked door. The fact that he hadn’t was at least honest and some indication of a sense of propriety, if not also fair play.

Her soft, “Yes,” was resigned. She hesitated a moment, then pressed the button that would release the lock downstairs and let him pass into the lobby.

Real fear surged then. This was it. And, as she’d sensed, Mitch Ellery was about to charge in like a bull. Far too soon he’d cleared the stairs and she heard him striding down the hall. The cadence of his heavy boot heels was a confirmation that he was angry and would charge in. The relentless sound of his long stride coming so quickly near cranked her dread up at least a thousand notches.

She didn’t think her nerves could take the sound of him pounding on her door, so she reached out to open it.

CHAPTER TWO

AT THE sight of Lorna Farrell standing so primly at the open door, Mitch stifled the same private shock he’d felt when she’d walked into John Owen’s office with Kendra.

Lorna Farrell was slim and petite. Her dark head of glossy, shoulder-length hair curved under, her eyes were large and deeply blue, and her facial features were fine and delicate enough for a Renaissance portrait. The resemblance between her and Kendra was unmistakable.

Five years had smoothed out her features and turned her into a beauty. She had polish now, class, and the poise of a queen. But what she had by the bucketful was a resemblance to Kendra she’d not had five years before. No doubt it was now that stronger resemblance that had made her think she could engineer another try at Doris.

Mitch might even have given her some leeway had she simply tried to contact Doris again. His stepmother had finally confided that she’d given up a child for adoption years ago, but she’d denied the possibility that Lorna Farrell could be that child. A simple blood test might have thwarted Miss Farrell a second time. Surely she knew how easily she could be proved a liar if someone called her bluff.

But instead of inflicting herself directly on Doris, she’d managed to wedge herself into Kendra’s life. That alone undermined her in his eyes. In the past few hours, he’d found out that Lorna had worked for John Owen long before Kendra had become engaged to him, but she’d had no business befriending Kendra, no business at all crossing the line as far as she had.

Kendra was a sweet, naïve child-woman. Strong-willed, a little spoiled, but blinded by the optimism and generosity of youth. She hadn’t yet learned that the world was full of liars and opportunists. She hadn’t been bitten by the bitter truth that jealous people would do their damnedest to knock her down for having money or that the greedy ones would play her for a fool to get a piece of it.

Lorna Farrell’s slick intrusion into Kendra’s confidence marked her as the second kind. And though Mitch had long thought his stepsister needed to wise up to the ways of the world, he was determined that Lorna Farrell wouldn’t be the one to educate her.

Lorna didn’t speak and neither did he as he strode through the open door into her apartment.

Lorna had done much better for herself these past five years than the cramped one-room apartment she’d had back then. These rooms were painted bright white, and the furniture was tasteful blend of nice pieces, though probably second hand. She liked color and she liked interesting little accents, like the whimsical caricature of a gangly palomino pony with inch-long eyelashes that stood almost a foot tall on the floor in front of an antique bookcase lined with hardcover and paperback books.

The dove gray sofa was plush and artfully scattered with old-fashioned needlework pillows. There were a few inexpensive but tasteful paintings on the walls and she had a fondness for dark tables with delicate legs. The dining room had a bowl of vivid silk flowers in the middle of the table, and every surface throughout the two rooms he could see were polished to a deep luster.

Everything was neat and orderly without a single thing out of place. Was this the rigid care of a woman who’d only recently come up in the world and appreciated that enough to take religious care of everything? Or was she an opportunist who liked to have nice things and by such diligent care demonstrated not only a lust for material possessions but a hunger for more and even better?

Because he was so suspicious of her, he discounted the idea that she kept her things so neat and orderly because it was an admirable habit.

He didn’t bother to take off his Stetson. Though it was polite to do so and expected indoors, he didn’t intend to pay her the compliment. He heard the tremor in her voice and sent her a surly glance.

“Would you like to sit down, Mr. Ellery? Can I get you something? Coffee? A s-soda?”

He watched color flash across her cheekbones at the small stutter and took note of the way she gripped her slim fingers together. He detected the tremor she clearly tried to suppress in the faint vibration of her shoulders beneath her suit jacket.

“I didn’t come to be sociable, Miz Farrell. Your pretty manners are wasted on me.”

Now he saw the color vanish from her cheekbones, confirming the notion that she was as completely intimidated by him as she’d been five years ago, and thus would be easy to manage.

He lifted his hand to his chest, frowned at the small start she gave at the movement, then slipped his fingers into his suit pocket to remove the check. He held it out so she could see the amount.

Her deeply blue eyes dropped automatically to the digits. There was a spark of something then. Surprise? Or was it a flash of pain?

“Give Owens two weeks notice, then quit,” he told her brusquely. “This should hold you over until you can find another job. If you leave San Antonio to take a job, I’ll give you double that amount. Every year up to five years, I’ll leave a matching check for that double amount in an account with my attorney. Every year up to five years that you stay out of San Antonio and have no contact with Kendra, the attorney will transfer that yearly amount into whatever out of town bank account you choose.”

Mitch paused because she appeared to sway. He hardened his heart to that show of shock because it was more likely shock that he’d given her what she’d wanted so easily. And from the amount on the check, she could surely see that multiples of that kind of money, if carefully handled, would soothe the sharper edges of her lust for riches for a long time to come. He went on.

“After five years, the money deal expires. By then there’ll be a record of every transaction. If you approach Kendra again, we’ll have a money trail to take you to court for extortion.”

“How dare you?”

The words were choked and Lorna’s stormy gaze came up to his. She’d stood stiffly before, but now she looked so rigid that movement might make her bones crackle.

Mitch lowered the check and tossed it dismissively to a lamp table.

“How dare you, Miz Farrell? Trading on the resemblance you didn’t have five years ago to worm your way into an innocent kid’s life. You aren’t Doris Ellery’s long-lost anything. If you say one word to Kendra, we’ll press charges, petition the courts for a blood test, and when it comes up a no-match, you’ll have an arrest record and very likely a conviction.”

He paused to let that sink in. Her face had gone bright red now and she was shaking. He kept his low voice harsh.

“Choose a happy life, Miz Farrell. Take the money and leave town. You’re beautiful, you’re obviously clever, and you’ve got taste. Find some rich old boy and hold out for a ring and a date.”

“Get out.” Her voice trembled as hard as she did now.

“I meant every word, darlin’. Every single word. And you’re bright enough to know I can make it happen.”

“Get out.”

Lorna gave the two words separate emphasis. No matter how foolish she’d been, no matter how long she’d let the situation with Kendra go on, she wouldn’t tolerate this. So much for Mitch Ellery’s propriety and sense of fair play. He was trying to bully her into a setup. She was so outraged over it that she felt faint. Dark dots were swimming in her vision and her eyes felt on fire. Her whole body felt scorched.

And still he made no move to leave, just stood there like a column of granite. The hostility that radiated from him in waves was so intimidating that it magnified her hurt and the fury she felt.

She almost wished he had roughed her up. Anything, even that, would have been better than the brutal sting of his insult, not to mention the sheer menace of a man so much larger and stronger than she. The top of her head barely came to his shoulders. If he’d roughed her up, she could have dialed 911.

But she was helpless against this. She had no doubt that he had the will and the means to frame her for extorting money from him, though she’d die before she took a single cent from anyone.

Mitch Ellery was a bully, but suddenly none of it mattered. None of it mattered because the emotions of these past few months, the old hurts and traumas that had been stirred up and the horror of this confrontation, seemed to have short-circuited her body.

The two-bite breakfast she’d caught on the run, the lunch she’d forgotten, the uneaten apple she’d carried home from the office, suddenly conspired with all the rest and she felt an odd lethargy as the dots swam faster and multiplied.

Panicked, she tried to reach the nearest chair. She’d no more than taken a wobbly step and sensed Mitch Ellery’s sudden move when the world went black.

Mitch had hesitated to reach for Lorna because he thought she was faking a faint. And then he’d caught her a second too late because she’d wilted so fast and gone so boneless that even catching her arm hadn’t prevented her temple from grazing the corner of the coffee table.

He’d gathered her up and placed her on the sofa, but her small body was so rag-doll limp that it was amazingly hard to manage, though she weighed almost nothing.

A pink welt marked her right temple and already the skin beneath it was staring to swell. Shock jolted him. She hadn’t flinched when she’d hit, and as he tested the delicate skin next to the swelling, not even a hint of reaction showed in her lashes.

Hell. She hadn’t hit the table hard enough to be knocked out, so the lady had well and truly fainted. An alien feeling of guilt punched him in the gut. Remorse made him pick up one of her limp hands and chafe it between his palms.

“Miz Farrell,” he growled. “One of us is gonna be damned upset if you don’t come around quick.”

Mitch gritted his teeth for admitting that much. He patted the back of her still hand and when that got him nothing, he lightly tapped her pale cheek. Her glorious black lashes lay closed and motionless, and he felt another arrow of concern.

Gently laying her hand on her small waist, he rose to find the bathroom. Once there, he grabbed an artfully folded washcloth from a white basket on the counter and wet it beneath a jet of cold water in the sink.

Squeezing the excess water from it, he stalked back to the living room. Now her lashes spasmed and he sat down by her hip on the edge of the sofa cushion. He touched the cool, damp cloth to her cheek and was rewarded when she weakly turned her head to escape the sensation.

Mitch lifted the cloth to gently press it against her other cheek before he realized he’d picked up her hand again. Her fingers tightened on his, but her grip was weak.

His own low words, “Come on, darlin’, come on back,” startled him.

Perhaps it was the remorse he felt, perhaps it was the simple compassion he had for any injured creature that accounted for the uncommon tenderness he felt suddenly. Or perhaps it was Lorna’s sharp resemblance to his stepsister. Whatever the reason, feeling tender toward Lorna Farrell was not quite the anathema it should have been.

And when she made a soft sound of protest and brought up her other small hand to ward him off, he felt like a brute.

Mitch allowed her to brace her hand against his chest while he pressed the cool cloth softly against the welt. She winced at the pressure and sucked in a breath, then struggled to move her head away.

“Lay still.”

His tone was harsher than he’d meant, and he was privately horrified when he saw wetness spring onto her lashes. He forced his voice to soften so much it was almost a rasp.

“Let me take care of this, darlin’.”

The fact that he’d repeated the endearment in a sincere way was a fresh shock. But she responded to it by going still. Her wet lashes opened and those blue, blue eyes focused mistrustfully on his face. He could see her fear and she lay completely still, as if she was afraid to move.

The guilt that made him feel was sharp and uncomfortable, and his gaze shied briefly from her wary study before he brought it back to say something that would let her know he meant her no harm.

“Looks like I scared you into a faint. You hit the coffee table before I could catch you.”

Confusion darkened the blue of her pretty eyes, but mistrust lingered in the mix. His pride was choking him, but he added a quiet, “I apologize.”

Mitch couldn’t maintain eye contact with her, so he lifted the cloth and inspected the small welt. “I’ll get you some ice for that.”

Her soft, “No,” made him pause and he looked down at her. “You have to leave.”

Despite her fear, she was rallying. Her refusal nettled his sense of responsibility. “Not till I’m sure you’re okay.”

She came right back with, “I don’t need your help.”

“How do you know that? Do you keel over in a faint so often it’s a routine?”

“I never faint.”

He gave a short bark of laughter and she jerked as if startled. Her eyes darkened again with wariness. Mitch ignored her reaction and leaned closer for emphasis.

“Well you just fainted, Miz Farrell. Write it in your diary.”

She seemed to fumble a moment for an answer to that. “I ha-haven’t eaten today.”

That nettled him again. “You out of money till payday?”

Color surged into her cheeks. “I have plenty of money. I was too busy to be hungry.”

Lorna wouldn’t confess to him that the months of worry about her increasing contact with Kendra had affected her appetite.

Mitch came to his feet and loomed over her. “I’ll put some ice in this cloth, then I’ll see what you’ve got to eat around this place.”

He strode away and she sat up in alarm. She cautiously touched her temple, but felt only a faint bit of pain. Sitting up had made her dizzy, but she turned to put her feet on the floor, determined to intercept Mitch and force him to leave.

And why wouldn’t he just leave? His orders and threats had been traumatic enough, but now she couldn’t get rid of him. And his concern confused her. He’d spoken to her earlier as if she was dirt under his feet, so his concern now was not only a shock, it was deeply suspicious.

Pride wouldn’t permit her to allow someone who hated her and had just tried to lure her into an extortion charge to do kind things for her.

She reached for the check then got up and walked unsteadily to the kitchen. Once she got there, she stopped in the doorway while she waited for her legs to strengthen.

Mitch Ellery was a dark giant in her pristine kitchen. As in the living room, his larger-than-life presence dwarfed everything around him. He’d already loaded the washcloth with ice cubes, but he now had her refrigerator open and was peering inside.

Since she hadn’t yet gone grocery shopping as she normally did on Friday nights, the refrigerator was humiliatingly bare. He glanced her way, his face a thundercloud of disapproval.

“No wonder you aren’t eating. You’ve got little more than condiments and a half quart of milk that went out-of-date two days ago.”

Lorna crossed the room and plucked the cloth-wrapped ice cubes out of his huge hand to toss them into the sink before she gingerly tucked the check back in his pocket. When she boldly reached between him and the refrigerator to catch the top of the door and crowd him out of the way so she could close it, he caught her hand.

Her wide gaze flew up to his. She gave her hand a testing tug, but he held it fast.

Mitch was so big, so virile, and so powerfully male. The small space in front of the refrigerator was smothering suddenly. The cool air from inside the open door had no impact on the heat between their bodies or the arrows of attraction that peppered her skin and made her feel hot and edgy inside.

His voice was gruff and low and it stroked her someplace deep. “It’s a wrongheaded idea, but we’ll go to a restaurant.”

“No, we won’t.”

His dark brows lowered in irritation. “You need to eat. We’ll get that swelling down, then go.”

Lorna yanked at her hand and he released her. “I wouldn’t cross the street with you.” Her chin went up the smallest bit. “And I believe I’ll call your bluff about that blood test, Mr. Ellery. Since you’re obviously a take-over artist, you can make the appointment and I’ll be there.”

His eyes suddenly glittered with temper and she felt herself sway.

“And I’ll call your bluff, Miz Farrell. You’ll have that blood test. But right now, I’ll call your other bluff.”

With that, he leaned close. She managed a half step back before he swept her up in his arms as if she was no bigger than a small child. The quick movement made her head spin, and she reflexively gripped his wide shoulders. He seemed to sense he’d made her dizzy, so he didn’t move right away to carry her out of the kitchen.

He was growling again. “What am I gonna do with you?” His minty breath sent warm puffs of air against her face.

“You can put me down and leave,” she got out.

He studied her face, his irritation deepening. “Stubbornness and persistence can get you into all kinds of trouble. As you’ll find out if you don’t agree to back off with Kendra.”

Anger roared through her. “Ditto, Mr. Ellery. Put me down.”

“Fat chance.” He turned with her and stalked back into the living room to deposit her on an overstuffed chair.

The phone jangled on the table next to her. Lorna was mildly surprised that he didn’t snatch it up. She reached over and picked up the receiver as he towered in front of her.

Melanie’s worried voice came over the line. “Are you all right? I haven’t seen him leave.”

Lorna glanced up at the rock-faced man who watched her, his dark brows lowered in a surly frown.

She realized then that Mitch Ellery wasn’t a handsome man. His features were too rugged and rough. But he had a charisma that made him as magnetic and appealing as men whose features were smoother and more conventionally handsome. Perhaps more so.

Amazed that she’d been distracted by those thoughts, she glanced away from him. “I’m all right and yes, he’s still here,” she told her friend, then looked up at her unwanted guest as an idea sparked. “But he refuses to leave. If you’ll come over with your pepper spray, he might change his mind.”

Mitch’s expression went thunderous again. Lorna watched as his stern mouth moved to shape a succinct profanity.

Melanie’s, “Oh my gosh!” was as fervent as if she’d actually heard the silent word across the phone line. “I’ll be right over.”

“We’ll give him five minutes, then come over.”

“And you’ll explain why you gave him five more minutes when I get over there, right?”

“Right.”

Mel hung up and Lorna reached over to put the receiver in its cradle.

“You need to leave now, Mr. Ellery,” she said as she leaned back in the chair and looked up at him. “My friend lives across the hall, she doesn’t own a can of pepper spray, but she’s fiercely loyal and very protective.” She couldn’t help a weary smile. “You could very well find yourself on the drive home reeking of either cooking spray, furniture polish or the soap scum remover she might substitute.”

“Can she make you a sandwich? Get your blood sugar up?”

The questions were another surprise and hinted that he felt at least a particle of genuine care. And that touched her. Lorna felt her resentment toward him mellow.

“I’m sure she can do better than a simple sandwich. She’s a fabulous cook. Which reminds me. She might bring over a wire whisk or a potato masher. Have you ever seen what a wire whisk or a potato masher can do to the average tyrant? They’ve done all sorts of studies, and the photographs are pretty gruesome.”

His formidable expression eased, and she sensed something in his stern personality give way. The faint curve of his harsh mouth was probably as close to a real smile as she’d ever see from him. But if he was truly amused, he didn’t remark on it.

“She’ll look after you tonight?”

The caring that implied was suddenly painful for her and her faint smile dropped away. “Why on earth would you care?” The words were out before she’d thought them through.

Suddenly he bent down and braced his big fists on the chair arms. His face was very close now and the thrill that whirled over her was shockingly sexual.

“If not for this thing with Kendra, I might have found you…interesting.”

It was a blunt admission that shocked her to her toes. She fumbled for a way to answer that.

“And what will you find when the blood test proves that Kendra is my sister?”

Now he was angry again because his expression seemed to turn to stone in front of her. “It won’t.”

“It will, Mr. Ellery. And when it does, it won’t change a single thing, because Doris will never acknowledge it.” Saying that out loud sent a flood of old hurt surging up and she felt her eyes sting. She struggled to defy it, her gaze never wavering from the harsh lights in his as she declared, “In fact, unless I miss my guess, Doris will never submit to a blood test herself.”

“She will because it’ll put an end to you.”

She’d made him angry again and saying that was his retaliation. The smile she gave then was not a true smile, it was more of a grimace that eased some of the painful pressure in her heart.

“She sent you here with a check to put an end to me. That’s the only end she wants.”

He straightened, his dark eyes cutting into hers as if he was measuring her in some way.

“Get something to eat. I’ll be in touch.”

Lorna didn’t respond to that and he reached over to pick up his Stetson from the coffee table. He put it on and tugged down on the brim. It was a cowboy version of goodbye that was almost polite.

“You’ll hear from me about the test,” he said, his low voice now almost a warning.

“I’ll look forward to it,” she said. “But don’t hold your breath waiting for Doris’s consent.” She’d nicked his temper again, because his dark eyes glittered with it.

As if he was making a silent declaration, he pulled the folded check out of his jacket pocket, then tossed it to the lamp table out of her easy reach before he turned and strode out of the apartment without a backward glance.

Aggravated about the check but relieved he was gone, Lorna got up and walked to the bathroom. The small swelling was so minor it was almost nonexistent. It was merely a faint graze and would probably be completely healed by morning. Why had he fretted over it as if it was some grave wound?

She heard Melanie call out as she entered the apartment, so she called back, “I’ll be out as soon as I change my clothes.” Lorna stepped into the bedroom and shakily found a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She gave her mussed hair a quick brushing, then went out to join her friend.

“I was watching at the peephole, so I saw him,” Melanie reported as Lorna came into the living room. Mellie lifted her light brows and made her green eyes go wide. “And wow. Kinda like a mix of John Wayne, Tommy Lee Jones and a Minotaur. Not handsome, but…awesome. And, dare I say it? Sexy,” she declared with a sparkling glance. “No need to explain the extra five minutes, amiga, but are you all right?”

Lorna laughed at that, suddenly feeling worlds better than she had in ages. She’d survived Mitch Ellery and he’d virtually decreed the blood test that, if nothing else, would prove she wasn’t a liar—or at least that she was willing to have her honesty put to a definitive test. Perhaps it was good that he’d left the check. It would feel even better giving it back to him a second time than it had the first.

“I’m fine,” Lorna said. “Pretty great, actually. I’ll tell you all about it over pizza. You can choose the toppings this time.”

“Sounds good. You want to call or should I?”

“I’ll buy, so you can make the call.”

While they waited for their pizza to be delivered, Lorna began to tell her dearest friend almost everything about Mitch Ellery. Almost everything, but the stunning attraction she felt.

Why she suddenly couldn’t confess that one thing when she’d confessed nearly everything else in her life to Melanie—was a surprise.

If not for this thing with Kendra, I might have found you…interesting.

It shocked her to realize how tantalizing that was. And how much she’d like to be the focus of his interest.

Mitch’s iron-willed protectiveness toward her sister—even though it was aimed at protecting her sister from her—was as much an indication of his character as his formidable personality and his reluctant, kind care when she’d fainted.

Men like Mitch Ellery were all too rare; she’d understood that five years ago. He’d scared her then, and he’d scared her today. But the glimpse of tenderness in him tonight had deeply affected her.

I might have found you…interesting.

What would it have been like to capture his interest? If she’d caught his eye in the usual way women caught men’s eyes, what would he have been like? There was a certain rough-edged gallantness about him, and even as they’d shaken hands that day when he was clearly furious to see her, his grip had been gentle. And he’d touched her tonight in the most tender way.

For a man of his size and brute strength, the contrast between his power and his touch was breathtaking. The memory made her skin tingle as it had then. What would it be like to have someone like Mitch Ellery in her life?

Eventually her speculation waned. The truth was, she hadn’t got his attention in the usual way. His mission—and he’d made that mission shockingly clear—was to bribe her to leave San Antonio.

A whisper of fresh fear skimmed over her heart. If Doris wouldn’t do her part with the blood test, it was certain Mitch would bring some other pressure to bear if she didn’t quit her job and clear out.

Wealthy, powerful tyrants like Mitch Ellery had a legion of legal help at their fingertips. And men like him were socially influential. The right word in the right ear could destroy everything she’d worked so hard to get and ruin her chances for good things for a long time to come.

Choose a happy life, Miz Farrell.

The silly half-fantasy about winning his interest suddenly seemed as foolish as it was futile. She must have hit her head harder than she’d thought. By the time her friend had gone home, Lorna was caught in a grip of melancholy that grew so dismal later that she laid in the dark a long time and worried about what more Mitch Ellery could do to force her out of her sister’s life.

CHAPTER THREE

LORNA slept in that next morning to make up for her lost sleep. After a late breakfast of cold pizza, she started a load of laundry in the small washer in an alcove of her bathroom. Frustrated that Mitch dominated her thoughts, she threw herself into her Saturday chores before she left the apartment to run errands.

She dropped off clothes at the dry cleaners and picked up the batch she’d left there the Saturday before. A fast trip to Wal-Mart was followed by another to her favorite grocery store to take care of the shopping she’d not had time for on her way home last night. It was midafternoon when she got home.

Living alone and having to carry everything across the mostly full parking lot and up a flight of stairs in one trip was a challenge that was also part of Lorna’s normal routine.

After draping her dry cleaning over her arm and carefully gathering up the handles to the various plastic bags that contained her purchases, she made her way across the sun-scorched parking lot to the back door of the building. She’d reached the sidewalk when a big man came around the corner and strode purposely toward her.

Mitch Ellery was dressed like a real cowboy in a blue plaid shirt and denim jeans worn soft. The black Stetson he wore had a more common look than his pearl-gray one, and the black boots he had on today carried the scuff marks of daily wear.

From the stern line of his harsh mouth and the faint scowl that darkened his gaze beneath the hat brim, he looked like he meant business. If he’d been wearing a six-shooter, the black Stetson combined with his tough-guy ruggedness would have made him look like an Old West outlaw.

His dark eyes showed a gleam of disapproval. “You gotta lazy man’s load,” he said bluntly as he smoothly relieved her of everything but the dry cleaning.

Lorna’s quick move to snatch back the bags was quelled by his curt, “I’ve got ’em.”

“I haven’t invited you in, Mr. Ellery. Nor do I plan to.” She gave him a stiff smile as she again reached to hook her fingers through the handles of the plastic bags to reclaim them. “But thanks for the show of chivalry.”

The minute her fingers were laced through the handles, Mitch shifted his grip, managing to neatly trap them. Tiny shocks radiated from his firm hold and her wide gaze flashed up to the glittering darkness in his.

“We can either stand here the rest of the afternoon, or you can invite me in,” he growled.

“We have nothing to say to each other, so there’s no reason to invite you to do anything but leave.” Lorna straightened her fingers to tug them free of the bag handles, but Mitch’s grip was too strong.

“You and I need to talk.”

His expression was grim and Lorna sensed a new threat. “The only thing I want to hear from you is the date and time for the blood test.”

“You’ll hear from me Monday about that. Right now, we’ve got a new problem.”

Lorna did her best to appear unimpressed. She heard his frustration with her when he added darkly, “It’s about Kendra.”

As if he knew she’d cave in at the mention of Kendra and a problem, he loosened his grip on her fingers. Lorna pulled free. “What about Kendra? Nothing’s happened, has it?”

Now his harsh look eased fractionally. “No problem beyond a damned fool idea that involves you. Which is why we’ll have a talk. Now.”

Relieved Kendra was all right, Lorna decided that she’d had enough of his dictates.

“Listen, Mr. Ellery. You might give orders at your ranch, but you aren’t allowed to rule the world. Whether you have a particle of respect for me or not, you’ll at least go through the verbal motions of good manners or you’ll be invited to go straight to hell.”

The faint shock that showed on his face for a space of a second was wiped away by a mighty frown. He hadn’t expected her to stand up to him and he clearly didn’t like it. She’d never in her life spoken to anyone like that, but something in his autocratic manner warned that she’d better learn to or he’d run over her without a second thought.

His expression went stony. The time it took him to swallow his pride and make an effort to frame a proper request seemed insultingly long.

Which sent her temper soaring. “You can either sit my bags on the sidewalk for someone else or you can keep them.”

She turned then and dug her key out of her pocket. Since his hostage takeover of her purchases wouldn’t work on her, he could decide if he liked the food and the toothpaste and toiletries from Wal-Mart enough to be stuck with them. Hopefully he’d just put down the bags and leave.

“Miss Farrell.” His voice was low, and Lorna stopped to glance back. “You must think I’ve got the manners of a…”

He paused to search her flushed face, as if trying to gauge how far he needed to humble himself. She raised a dark brow and he finished on a growl.

“…a pig.”

Stifling a surprised laugh, Lorna came right back with, “If you have any evidence to disprove that, you’d better speak up quick.”

Again he seemed to hesitate, but then he spoke, the words coming out as tonelessly as if he were reading them off a cue card.

“My apologies, Miz Farrell. Would you please consider inviting me inside to discuss a new problem?”

Lorna felt her anger cool, but she was wary of letting him in. “You’ll behave?”

“I surely will.” His swift answer was proof that he could barely contain his impatience to have the discussion.

The notion that this big bull of a man was knuckling under to her demand for good manners—even if it was difficult for him—made her feel a small bit of power.

Though common sense told her this was only an illusion of cooperation, the secret part of her that had never truly felt valuable or particularly powerful gobbled it up.

“All right. We’ll see how things go. But I should warn you that I’ve got a black belt in screaming down apartment buildings.”

It was meant to lighten things between them, but neither of them smiled. She’d already got the impression that Mitch didn’t smile often.

But perhaps the biggest reason neither of them smiled was because they both recognized that her lighthearted remark was an expression of fear and mistrust. Fear and mistrust leached the humor out of most things, at least in her life.

Lorna turned back to the door to unlock it, and Mitch followed her in. They walked up the stairs then down the hall to her apartment in silence. As she’d done downstairs, she held the door open for him as he carried her bags in. He took her purchases to the kitchen while she carried her dry cleaning and handbag to her bedroom to put away. By the time she joined Mitch in the kitchen, he was unloading groceries onto the counter.

Her, “Thank you,” were the only words between them until she’d put everything away and disposed of the empty bags. She left the things from Wal-Mart for later, then turned to him and clasped her hands together. She glanced up at his Stetson, so he obliged her silent reminder and took it off.

“Would I again be wasting good manners if I asked what you’d like to drink? The choices are still a soda or coffee. Or a glass of water.”

Mitch couldn’t seem to keep his gaze from eating her up. Lorna’s delectably curved body was virtually perfect. The white cotton blouse she wore over her most interesting curves was still crisp despite the heat, and her jeans carried a crease that let him know she ironed them. As a man who was too macho to wear jeans with a persnickety crease, the feminine fussiness of that tickled him. The plain sandals on her pretty feet revealed neatly clipped toenails painted a soft pink. He’d never been particularly attracted to a woman’s feet before, but Lorna’s were almost as touchable looking as the rest of her.

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