“You Were Always Good At Running, Ava.”

She slowly turned and faced Jared. “I didn’t think you’d care if I left—or notice for that matter.”

His eyes darkened. “I noticed. Your husband here?”

Her pulse skittered as she was reminded of the lie she’d been forced to tell.

“We’re not together anymore,” she said quietly.

“You walk out on him, too?”

Ava took a deep breath. “I understand that you’re angry with me, but that’s no reason to be downright cruel.”

“I’m not angry at you, Ava. You have to really care about someone to be angry with them.”

She felt her throat tighten as tears threatened. “Look, you obviously don’t want to see me. So let’s just try to steer clear of each other.”

Ava hesitated, then turned to leave. But he was right behind her, his large hand covering hers on the knob.

“Let go of the door, Ava,” he said. “This time I’m going to be the one walking out first.”

Dear Reader,

We’re so glad you’ve chosen Silhouette Desire because we have a lot of wonderful—and sexy!—stories for you. The month starts to heat up with The Boss Man’s Fortune by Kathryn Jensen. This fabulous boss/secretary novel is part of our ongoing continuity, DYNASTIES: THE DANFORTHS, and also reintroduces characters from another well-known family: The Fortunes. Things continue to simmer with Peggy Moreland’s The Last Good Man in Texas, a fabulous continuation of her series THE TANNERS OF TEXAS.

More steamy stuff is heading your way with Shut Up And Kiss Me by Sara Orwig, as she starts off a new series, STALLION PASS: TEXAS KNIGHTS. (Watch for the series to continue next month in Silhouette Intimate Moments.) The always-compelling Laura Wright is back with a hot-blooded Native American hero in Redwolf’s Woman. Storm of Seduction by Cindy Gerard will surely fire up your hormones with an alpha male hero out of your wildest fantasies. And Margaret Allison makes her Silhouette Desire debut with At Any Price, a book about sweet revenge that is almost too hot to handle!

And, as summer approaches, we’ll have more scorching love stories for you—guaranteed to satisfy your every Silhouette Desire!

Happy reading,

Melissa Jeglinski

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Redwolf’s Woman
Laura Wright

LAURA WRIGHT

has spent most of her life immersed in the worlds of acting, singing and competitive ballroom dancing. But when she started writing romance, she knew she’d found the true desire of her heart! Although born and raised in Minneapolis, Laura has also lived in New York City, Milwaukee and Columbus, Ohio. Currently, she is happy to have set down her bags and make Los Angeles her home. And a blissful home it is—one that she shares with her theatrical production manager husband, Daniel, and three spoiled dogs. During those few hours of downtime from her beloved writing, Laura enjoys going to art galleries and movies, cooking for her hubby, walking in the woods, lazing around lakes, puttering in the kitchen and frolicking with her animals. Laura would love to hear from you. You can write to her at P.O. Box 5811, Sherman Oaks, CA 91413 or e-mail her at laurawright@laurawright.com.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

One

“He’s back.”

At her sister Rita’s words, Ava Thompson felt her heart drop into her pink satin pumps. “Who’s back?”

“The ever-gorgeous Jared Redwolf, that’s who,” Rita supplied with a smile.

From atop her white-carpeted pedestal at Benton’s Bridal and Formalwear, Ava stumbled sideways, letting fly a barely audible, “Ouch,” as Mrs. Benton accidentally stuck her with a pin.

“Hold still now,” said the older woman.

Barely hearing the good-natured reprimand, Ava stared down at her sister, her large green eyes severe. “What do you mean, he’s back? Back where?”

“Here in Paradise,” Rita said calmly, standing in front of the three-way mirror, fluffing her long, tawny curls. “He’s across the street actually. When I went for coffee I saw him go into the diner.” With a mischievous grin, she added, “And who could blame him? Did you know they have a patty melt, fries and a cherry cola, all for just $2.95 today?”

“Those patty melts are pure horse meat,” Mrs. Benton stated flatly as she pinned the hem of Ava’s stunning off-the-shoulder A-line number that her younger sister had designed to hit just above the ankle.

“Horsemeat.” Rita laughed, her dark-blue eyes sparkling. “That’s not true.”

Mrs. Benton shook her head dejectedly. “And to think, we’re living in beef country.”

They weren’t fooling anyone with their calm discussions of patty melts and cherry colas, Ava thought, taking in the pair’s secret glances. From the moment Rita had mentioned Jared Redwolf, Ava had felt the two women’s eyes on her, watching her like conspiring hawks—wanting to see her reaction to the news and wondering if her life was flashing before her eyes because of it.

A life that everyone in Paradise had known about. A life Ava had left four years ago.

A life she’d thought about every day since then in her small apartment on Manhattan’s Upper West Side.

The dated air conditioner against the ratty lavender wall sputtered and coughed as the Texas heat slowly invaded the room. Ava eyeballed her sister in the mirror. “I thought you said he was going to be in Dallas for the entire two weeks, Rita. ‘I have it on good authority,’ you said. ‘I swear, you’ll never run into him,’ you said.”

Rita shrugged. “Hey, what can I say, big sister? That’s what he told Pat Murphy at the post office.” She grinned, then placed a bridal veil over her face. “Maybe he heard you were back in town for my wedding and changed his mind.”

Mrs. Benton inhaled sharply, then looked up at Ava with eager, expectant eyes.

“Not a chance.” Ava glanced from one woman to the other. “The man despises me.”

“Despise is such a strong word,” Rita said.

“I think we should stop talking about her old beau for a moment,” Mrs. Benton said to Rita. “She’s moving about and I need to get a clean hem here. I sure don’t want to be the one catching heck if your maid of honor walks down the aisle in a crooked dress.”

Rita smiled at the woman. “How about I blame it on a certain six-foot-three Cheyenne god with a killer smile?”

Ava rolled her eyes. “He’s half Cheyenne.”

“And what a half,” Mrs Benton said on a sigh, then quickly returned to her hem.

Nothing had changed, Ava mused. The women of Paradise still drooled over Jared Redwolf. But were they still too afraid to show it? she wondered. Now that he was a millionaire and a financial genius with famous clients flying into to see him every week, were the ladies in town willing to overlook his heritage?

The scent of an old wedding bouquet hanging from the ceiling permeated the increasingly humid air. Johnny Mathis crooned a plaintive love song on a small radio in the corner. And Ava felt as though she were suffocating inside her pretty satin bridesmaid dress.

Jared was at the diner. So close by she could almost feel him, breathe in that heady scent of sun and sweat he always possessed. She wanted to see him, God help her. But she knew how dangerous that would be. He would have questions and he would demand answers. Lord, what if he’d already heard she was back in town?

Beads of sweat trailed a path down her neck. She needed to get out of the shop. She couldn’t risk running into him, not yet anyway. Not until she was ready to tell him about…

She swallowed the thought, looked down at Mrs. Benton. “I’m really sorry, Mrs. B., but I’ll have to come back later.”

The older woman frowned. “What? Why?”

“I have to go back to Rita’s.”

“For what?” Rita asked quickly.

“I need to check on—”

The bell located above the door of the shop’s front entrance chimed merrily, interrupting Ava’s bogus explanation. She glanced up into the three-sided mirror to see who had come in. Through the generous slit in the curtain behind her, she glimpsed a man walking through the shop door like he owned the place, as though the modest storefront was too small to contain him.

Ava froze, but against her ribs her heart pounded violently. Just ten seconds more and she would’ve escaped him.

Jared Redwolf.

Without thinking, she reached up and released her long, blond hair from the rubber band that had held it tightly in place all morning.

Jared was here. Though to her, he’d never left—her memory or her thoughts—for the four years she’d been away from Paradise.

Time seemed to slow. She put a hand to her mouth and exhaled, swearing that she could still feel the pressure of his lips on hers as he raked his callused palms up the bare skin of her back.

She tried to swallow, tried to breathe correctly. But it took significant effort. After all, she hadn’t seen him face-to-face in such a long time, and this was not how she’d imagined their reunion.

“I’ll be out to help you in a minute,” Mrs. Benton called, without looking up as she fitted another pin, no doubt hoping to finish Ava’s dress before she could run away.

But Ava was going nowhere at the moment. She was bolted to the pedestal, watching Jared as he stopped at a display of bolo ties, handling one in particular with great reverence. She felt free to look at him because she knew he hadn’t noticed her through the slit in the curtain.

Free, but certainly not easy.

Her back to him, she just stared into the mirror, her gaze moving over him like an animal who hadn’t seen food in days. Like the first day she’d seen him driving cattle on her father’s ranch—bulging muscle and covered in sweat as he sat atop the fierce palomino he’d broken himself.

He’d taken her breath away.

If it was possible, he looked even more handsome today than she remembered. Dressed more like a cowboy than a multimillion dollar businessman in a blue chambray shirt, faded jeans and boots, he was easily the best looking man in Texas. Who was she kidding? He was the best looking man in the world. He was far past six feet now, with a man’s body. Long and lean and hard. He’d let his thick, black hair grow past his shoulders, his high cheekbones were more prominent and his eyes, those heavy-lidded steel-gray eyes that charmed, thrilled and terrified you all at the same time, were cool and calm.

But of course, he hadn’t seen her yet.

“Just here to return the tux, Mrs. Benton,” he called out.

Rita gasped at the voice that was far lower, but just as seductive as Ava had remembered. So did Mrs. Benton, but she quickly recovered before calling out, “You can bring it back here, Jared. We’re all decent.”

“No.” Ava fairly cried at the woman, panic welling up inside her.

Rita reached up and touched her hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze. But the gesture helped little. Ava felt as if her chest would burst. She couldn’t see him now, or ever again.

Her gaze darted right and left as she searched for somewhere to hide, but there wasn’t time. He was coming.

Every muscle in her body tensed.

Not now. Not like this.

But the white curtain parted anyway and Jared Redwolf walked into the circular space, a dark garment bag slung over one broad shoulder. Ava felt her breath catch at the sight of him, so dark and masculine, bracketed on both sides by pure femininity: racks of snowy-white wedding dresses. What would he think when he saw her? she wondered, apprehension threatening to choke her as she turned to face him. What would he say?

The only sign that Jared Redwolf wasn’t a full-blooded Cheyenne was his full lips, but when his gaze landed on Ava those lips thinned dangerously.

Mrs. Benton cleared her throat. “I’ll take that suit and get your receipt, Jared. Be right back, girls.”

Ava barely noticed her departure. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the man who’d ruled her mind since puberty. She simply stared at him as the only sound in the room came from a wily DJ announcing the time and weather on the radio.

Ten a.m. and hot as hell.

Ava felt another bead of sweat fall from her hairline to her neck, then snake down her back.

It was the weather, not her relentless attraction for Jared Redwolf that caused this reaction, she told herself as she watched his eyes blaze fire and his jaw twitch as he stared at her.

Finally she gathered her courage and found her voice. “Hello, Jared.”

But he said nothing, just continued to stare at her as though she were an apparition—and a very unwelcome one. She felt like a caged animal in her pretty pink satin gown that hadn’t been fitted to flattering yet.

Awkwardly Rita cleared her throat. “So, Jared. Back from Dallas early?”

“Too early, it seems,” he said, his tone bordering on venomous.

A tight knot formed in Ava’s stomach. But she understood his anger, and tried once again for polite conversation. “Jared, listen, I—”

“By the way, Rita,” he interrupted, ignoring Ava. “Congratulations on your wedding.”

Rita smiled halfheartedly, her gaze flickering toward her sister. “Thanks.”

“I’d like to get you and your fiancé something, but—”

“We would’ve invited you, Jared, I just didn’t think you’d be in town,” Rita explained awkwardly. “But now that you’re back, you’re more than welcome to come.”

Ava felt her mouth drop open. This wasn’t happening. She’d been so careful with her plans in coming here.

“I appreciate the thought,” he said. “But I don’t think so.” His gaze was intense—and back on Ava.

“Sakir and I would love it,” Rita insisted.

He shook his head. “Thanks, but I can’t do it. I have a desk full of work and a client flying in that night.”

“It’ll be just a few hours.”

Ava clamped a hand down on her sister’s shoulder. “If he doesn’t want to come, he doesn’t want to come. Don’t force the issue.”

The humidity was barely noticeable when compared to the weight of sentiment that passed between her and Jared. His eyes had turned from fuming black to watchful cool steel and Ava felt that familiar stirring deep in her belly. The one she’d hoped she’d feel again, but prayed she wouldn’t.

He could rile her from a hundred paces with that look, always would.

“What time did you say the ceremony was?” he asked Rita, though his gaze remained on Ava.

“Two o’clock,” Rita offered.

He nodded. “Maybe I will stop by.”

Clasping her hands together, Rita looked from one to the other. “Well, you could drop by the house and pick up an invitation if you want.”

Ava’s throat went bone dry. What was her sister playing at? Jared couldn’t come by the house. Her gaze flickered to his. “You can just send it to him, little sister. I’m sure it won’t get lost in the mail.” She took a breath and added, “If you send it out today it will get there—”

“I’ll come by and get it,” Jared stated firmly.

The clang of Mrs. Benton’s ancient cash register sounded. “Give me just one more minute, girls,” she called from the other room.

Ava didn’t have any more minutes left. “I have to go,” she said firmly. A few years ago, she would’ve just remained until the very bitter end of this torture. A few years ago she’d been an idiot. But not today. She’d been through way too much in the past four years to allow these three people to tear apart her small sense of confidence. “I’ll see you back at the house, Rita.” Without looking at Jared, she stepped down from the pedestal, grabbed her purse and headed out of the curtained room just as Mrs. Benton was heading in.

“But the dress…” Mrs. Benton called after her, but Ava didn’t listen, she needed air, she needed—

So intent was she on escape, she actually gasped when she heard the deep baritone from behind her say, “Running away again?”

Halfway to the front door, halfway to safety, she froze. That voice now filled with cold sarcasm had once told her how beautiful she was.

“You always were good at running, Ava.”

She slowly turned around and faced him. “You didn’t say one word to me in there. I didn’t think you’d care if I left—or notice for that matter.”

His eyes darkened and a muscle in his jaw twitched violently. “I noticed.”

She wasn’t exactly sure if they were talking about the dressing room or the past four years. “What can I do for you, Jared?”

“Not a damn thing.”

“Then I’ll be going.”

“Your husband here for the wedding?”

Her pulse skittered in her blood as she was reminded of the lie she’d been forced to tell before leaving Paradise. “We’re not together anymore,” she said quietly.

“You walk out on him, too?”

Ava took a deep breath. Jared had a right to be angry with her, but she wasn’t going to accept barb after barb. Living in New York, having a child and a high paying interior design job had really changed her. No longer was she a pushover to her father, to Jared—to anyone.

She took a step toward him. “I understand that you’re angry with me, but that’s no reason to be downright cruel.”

“I’m not angry at you, Ava.” His dark eyes bore into her. “You have to really care about someone to be angry with them.”

She felt her throat tighten as tears threatened. She realized with a start that she’d actually formed a fantasy over the years about seeing him again. And this was so drastically far from that fantasy it was almost comical. She and Jared would never be together again. He despised her, and she imagined that even a full explanation and an apology wouldn’t make much of a difference. The man had turned cold and hard.

But it wasn’t just her feelings, her heart anymore. She had more to protect now. She straightened her shoulders. “Look, you obviously don’t want to see me or talk to me. Let’s just pretend this never happened, pretend we never had this encounter and try to steer clear of each other. I’ll only be here a couple weeks. So that shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Are you telling me not to go to your sister’s wedding?”

She swallowed hard. “Not telling. Just asking.”

He nodded stiffly. “Then I won’t be there.”

Ava hesitated for a moment, then turned to leave. But he was right behind her, his large hand covering hers on the knob. Her breath caught at the feel of him, at his closeness. The scent of leather and heat and pure maleness emanated from him, heightening her awareness. For a moment, it was as if time had never passed. He felt familiar and wonderful, his scent intoxicating. She glanced down at his tanned fingers practically interlaced with her own.

“Ava?” he said, removing his hand from hers.

She looked up at him. “Yes?” He was so close she could feel the solid wall of his chest grazing her shoulder. She could feel his heat, his overwhelming strength. A combination that had branded her many times before.

His gaze traveled from her neck to her mouth, then up to her eyes. “Let go of the door.” He raised a brow. “This time I’m going to be the one walking out first.”

Jared drove his truck down the dirt road like a madman. Well, that’s what he was, wasn’t he? He’d just come face-to-face with the one woman he couldn’t forget—the woman who’d betrayed him.

The wild beauty, he’d called her back then. And at twenty-six, she hadn’t changed much—only filled out in all the right places. High breasts and curved hips with that slender white neck that had always driven him nuts. Those tiny freckles that were sprinkled about the bridge of her nose were still visible, but had faded somewhat. Her honey-blond hair was longer and more lustrous than he remembered, but it still held the fresh scent of daybreak.

Damned if it hadn’t taken everything in him not to run his hands through it when he’d stood beside her at the bridal shop door.

He knew that she’d be here for her sister’s wedding, but the idea of Ava Thompson returning to Paradise was just something he hadn’t wanted to think about—couldn’t ever think about—if he expected to survive his days and nights.

The first year she’d been gone had been hell, he recalled, as the dull ache in his chest turned razor-sharp like the spines of the cactus that lined the road outside the truck’s window. He could still remember that morning like it was yesterday. That morning when Ben Thompson had met him out in the south pasture and told him that he knew about Jared and Ava. Ben had told him that his daughter had left for New York to marry another man, someone her equal, and wasn’t coming back. Jared had been just twenty-four then. A poor ranch hand who was working his way up in the numbers business and wanted nothing more than Ava, a few hundred acres of his own and a future in finance. But no matter how much he’d wanted to go and find her, fight for her, he hadn’t.

She’d wanted another man.

She hadn’t wanted Jared.

And neither had her father, Jared had quickly learned. Ben had booted Jared and his grandmother off of the ranch just one week later.

On an oath, he cut his truck right and skidded into his long driveway, barely clearing the iron gates. Well, he had everything now. With the help of one incredibly loyal client who had believed in Jared’s talent, he’d become successful and highly respected in a short amount of time. The rich and famous came to him when they wanted to see and protect their financial future. Yes, he had it all.

Well, almost.

With his horrendous romantic history and intense work schedule, he didn’t get involved with many women. But the ones he did understood that a few nights of enjoying each other’s company was all he was willing to offer.

He was wealthy beyond his wildest imaginings, while Ben Thompson was now struggling to keep his ranch alive. That thought always made Jared smile.

The house that stood before Jared, however, made him frown. His three-story spread on four hundred acres sure as hell might be the symbol of his worth and how far he’d come, but every time he entered the gates and flew down the gravel road where his house loomed up before him, he was reminded of Ava. He’d had the house painted the color of her eyes—that soft, pale green. Lord, she had the kind of eyes a man could get lost in for days.

Jared ground his teeth, staring up at the place. When she’d left him four years ago, part of him had died. But the other part had remained alive to work. He’d worked his backside off night and day and dawn to get her out of his mind. Then later, to keep her out.

He’d created this place to look cheery and homey. And perhaps to his grandmother it was, but it sure wasn’t to him. It was as though he’d built this house as an ode to Ava—in hopes that she’d come back, come home to him some day. But he’d been a fool, and the house had become just a place to rest his head at night.

He slammed on his brakes, skidding to a dust-cloud stop. He stared at the house, its white and Ava-green trim mocking him in the late afternoon sunlight. All he could think, see, was her. He cursed. All those years ago, Ben Thompson had made it clear that his daughters were off-limits to the ranch hands. Why the hell hadn’t he listened?

Ben Thompson.

If it were the last thing Jared did it would be to get his revenge on that man. And if rumors of a financially troubled ranch were true, that looked to be soon enough.

“Are you going to get out of that truck?”

Jared glanced up at the porch where his elderly grandmother, Muna, sat at a small table surrounded by the things she loved. Tea, books, herbs of every kind and her spirit cards. She was his mother’s mother and all he had left of a family. She was a true Cheyenne with salt and pepper braids stretching to her waist. She was thin, but far from frail. Eighty-four and sharp as a tack, she looked a bit wrinkled, a bit like a weathered apple—sweet but tart when she had a mind to be.

He remembered the stories she would tell him when he was a child. She’d been the shaman of her tribe, the one the people would go to for answers about dreams, visions and the future. She was called a “Teller” by some and a “Seer” by others.

Right now, Jared noticed, she was something else altogether. Apprehensive. She stood up and started to sweep the porch with long, swift stokes. “What happened in town, Jared?”

Inside his truck—which was growing warmer by the moment—Jared scrubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t want to answer her question, so he chose a route more traveled: avoidance. “Why are you sweeping? We have a housekeeper.”

“I didn’t ask for her.” It was her usual reply in her usual indignant tone.

Jared shook his head. All he wanted was for his grandmother to live the rest of her days in comfort. She and his mother had struggled all their lives, worked at any job that was willing to pay them a fair wage, just to put food on the table. And when his mother had died, it had been Muna who’d taken care of him. He’d just turned eight and he was a hellcat looking for trouble. But Muna had set him right, fed him, read to him—forced him to look past the cutting remarks and see that even a poor mixed blood could be someone. She’d been in her seventies while they’d lived on the Thompson’s land and still found the energy to wash floors, cook meals and sweep porches.

Now, in her eighties, all she had to do was sit back, relax and enjoy life. But that wasn’t her way.

“Jared,” she called from the porch, her voice calm but laced with strength. “You better tell me what happened in town.”

“I ran into an old…friend. Nothing to worry about.”

She shook her head, unconvinced. “I felt something, but the cards were most secretive this morning. They didn’t tell me about this old friend.”

“Even the spirits of your animals couldn’t have predicted this,” he called, not moving from his truck.

She shrugged. “Maybe not. Or perhaps they wanted things revealed in their own time.”

Four years was a helluva long time to wait for things to be revealed, Jared thought. Too long.

His only contact with Ava in all that time had been one phone call shortly after she’d left. But he hadn’t wanted to hear her excuses—hadn’t wanted to hear how she’d chosen another man over him.

He twisted the key in the ignition and gunned the engine. Those days—those weak feelings—were gone. He wasn’t going to let any more time pass. Something buried deep in his gut wouldn’t allow him to just walk away like she had four years ago, like he’d done in the bridal shop today. It would’ve been different if he’d never seen her again. But he had. She owed him an explanation and once he had it, he could walk away free. He could finally forget.

“I’ll be back,” he called to Muna as he shoved the truck into Reverse. “I’ve got to see that old friend one last time.”

Jared barely heard the two-word utterance from his grandmother that followed him on the breeze down the gravel driveway. But he sure felt it—like a bullet in the chest.

“Ava Thompson.”

Two

In the dusky-blue guest bedroom of the modest house her sister rented, Ava stared out the window at her three-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Lily, who was laughing and playing in the backyard with the lively elderly woman from next door and her two granddaughters. The three little girls were side by side, playing in the green plastic box Rita had filled with sand the day after they’d gotten there.

Ava felt her heart tug as she looked at her daughter. Lily loved the outdoors, loved to romp and play and make friends. But New York City wasn’t built to accommodate a little girl with wide open spaces and a truckload of animals on her mind. Nor was it the best place to make friends.

In playgroup and out, her daughter had had a hard time of it. She was different, strong minded and passionate. Someday soon, those wonderful characteristics would have her wondering who her daddy was—and where he was.

A fact which scared Ava, but she knew such a need was inevitable and that her daughter deserved to know the truth.

Lily’s cheeks glowed with health and happiness as she played. Long auburn hair, almond-shaped eyes and a sweet face with an upturned nose and a sprinkling of freckles. In many ways she was a miniature version of her mother. But there was her father in her, too: dark-gray eyes that looked straight through to your soul, long legs and a fiery temper when she was frustrated.

On a weary sigh, Ava turned away from the window and grabbed the phone book off the top of the little white shabby-chic dresser. She needed to find a different place to stay—somewhere where there wasn’t even the most remote possibility of Jared Redwolf stopping by.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

Ava glanced up to see her sister walk into the room, balancing a box of cookies under one arm and two glasses of milk in either hand. A still-shot flashed through her mind of a ten-year-old Rita bringing her cookies and milk on one of their mother’s antique trays. As they grew up, Rita never tired of attempting to raise Ava’s spirits when something went wrong, no matter if it was as minute as a put-down from their father, or as enormous as the horror in junior year when busty Tina White had flirted her way into the part of Laurie in their high school’s production of Oklahoma!

What was especially amusing—and endearing—to Ava was that Rita still believed that cookies and milk were a cure-all for the blues.

Where Rita was the dreamer, impulsive and romantic, Ava mused, smiling. She was the responsible one—practical and cautious. To their mother’s delight they were truly characters.

Ava had always loved to hear the story about her and Rita’s names. Their mother, Olivia Thompson, had been a stand-in for actresses Ava Gardner and Rita Hayworth during a brief stint in Hollywood. One summer, she met Ben Thompson at a convention in Las Vegas, fell head over heels in love with him and had left all the glamour and her friends behind. But for her mother, those days had never been never far away. While she’d dress Rita and Ava up in old costumes and powder their little noses, Olivia would tell them how much she missed the Hollywood life and all the exciting people.

It was only a few years later that her mother had died.

“So, who are you calling?” Rita asked, tugging Ava back from the past.

“I’m calling all the motels in town.”

Rita gasped. “You’re not going to abandon me in my hour of wedding need, are you? Besides, there’s only one motel in town now, and it’s full up with rodeo folk.” She set the milk and cookies on the bedside table. “’Course, there’s Carolyn’s Bed and Breakfast. But Carolyn’s not renting any rooms right now because of the flood.”

Ava’s brow furrowed. “Her rooms are on the top floor.”

“Not from the rain.” Rita popped a cookie into her mouth and grinned. “Waterbed incident.”

Ava put a hand up to stop Rita from saying anything more. “Got it.”

Rita reached out and took her sister’s hand. “Please don’t leave. I’m sorry about today. I was a horrible sister.”

“Not horrible. Just exasperating, interfering and a devious little pain in the—”

“Okay, okay.” Rita fell back onto the bed. “Look, I love you and I want to see you happy. What Dad did four years ago was so unbelievably wrong and unfair. I just thought maybe if you and Jared talked things over it would help the situation, maybe heal some old wounds.”

Ava smiled halfheartedly. “I appreciate that, little sister, I really do, but you saw how he looked at me today. The damage is done. It’s over.” She eyed her seriously. “And by the way, what Dad did wasn’t your fault.”

A stain of pink brushed Rita’s cheeks and she looked away. “I could’ve helped you.”

“No, you couldn’t have. You were too young.” Ava sighed. “There was no painless way out of that situation. If I had gone to Jared, he and his grandmother would’ve been out on the street. Dad promised me that. And I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

“They have a big house now, you know.” Her tone was leading and hopeful. “And no financial worries.”

“I know,” Ava said quietly, then pointed at the cookies. “Can I have one of those?”

Rita laughed and thrust the package toward her. “Have two.” She sobered momentarily. “Are you going to see Dad while you’re here?”

A flicker of apprehension coursed through Ava. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe introduce him to his granddaughter?”

“He’s made his feelings about Lily all too clear.”

“He really changed when you left. Well, after his car accident. That bump on the head seemed to knock some sense into him and some understanding into his heart. I think he’d really like to see you, Ava. I think he has some regrets.”

Ava shook her head firmly. “I can’t take that chance. I won’t have Lily hurt. I have enough to deal with in Jared.” She nodded at the phone book. “That’s why I should find another place to stay.”

“Oh, c’mon. He said he wasn’t coming to the wedding, right?”

“Right.”

“So what are you worried about?”

Ava shrugged. Jared had promised not to come to the wedding, which meant he probably wasn’t stopping by for an invitation. “I guess I really shouldn’t be, huh?”

Companionably, they sat together on the bed, eating their cookies and drinking their milk.

Rita broke the silence. “He still has feelings for you.”

“Oh, I know. Hatred, contempt—”

“Whatever it is, you have to tell him the truth.”

“I tried once, remember?”

Rita put her arm around Ava. “You have to try again.”

“I just don’t think he’s ready yet.”

“He’s not ready? Or you’re not?”

Ava grabbed another cookie, stood up and walked over to the window to check on her daughter. She didn’t even want to contemplate Rita’s suggestion. Jared hated her now. And more than likely, after their exchange today, he wouldn’t be coming within a mile of her—

The thought died. Ava’s throat tightened and her hands began to tremble.

Through the thin pane of glass and dusty screen, a scene she’d imagined a thousand times in her head was unfolding. Lily had abandoned the sandbox and her friends and was standing beside the rosebushes talking to a tall, gorgeous Cheyenne.

“You got any horsies?”

Jared smiled down at the cute little girl with her large eyes and long copper ponytail. “Seven of them.”

It was late afternoon, but the sun was so hot it could simmer chili. It was the kind of day that begged for water or shade. Or lemonade, he thought as the little girl sitting in front of him awkwardly handed him a Dixie cup from the kid-size plastic table that sat on the brick patio near the grass.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said and downed the cool, tart liquid.

He wondered who she was. Probably another one of Mrs. Young’s grandkids—although she didn’t look like one of those black-haired tikes. And if she was one of the Young kids, why was she over at Rita’s place? Barbecue? Could be. Paradise was a real family kind of town.

He waved at a tired-looking Mrs. Young, then glanced down at the little girl who was tugging at his jeans. It was no spoiled, frilly-dressed young lady who looked up at him. No. The little girl who had introduced herself as Lily was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her cheeks and hands smudged with dirt. She was a tomboy, he could tell that the minute he’d walked into the backyard and she’d jumped up from the sandbox and leaped over the side like a circus performer—with no fear, only blind confidence. She had to be around three or four, but he wasn’t sure. She wasn’t totally forthcoming on that front, opting instead to pepper him with questions. Not that her pluck bothered him. He liked kids. Just didn’t know many, that’s all, didn’t have much experience around them.

No brothers or sisters had meant no nieces or nephews.

Lily crooked her finger as though she had a big secret to share, and he bent down to hear her whisper, “My mommy reads me a book about Appaloosas.” The word came out sounding like apple and ooosas. “You got Appaloosas?”

He nodded. “Two. Soon to be three.”

“You might buy some more?”

“Nope.” He sat back on his heels. “My mare’s about ready to foal.”

“What’s that?”

“She’s going to have a baby.”

The little girl clasped her hands to together and let out a sound that resembled a squeal. “A baby?”

He chuckled. “Yep.”

“When?”

“At the end of the week, I expect.”

“Oh, I want to see. Please?” she asked. “I can help. I’m gonna be a good horsie rider when I get big.”

A shadow fell between them on the grass. Jared stood and saw Ava walking toward the little girl, eyes wary and nervous.

“Mommy,” Lily called to her with a wide smile. “This is Jared.”

Mommy. Jared’s gut constricted, making his breathing tight. This little girl was Ava’s…child? The word cut deep, as did the idea that Ava had been touched by anyone but him. Although he knew she’d been married, he’d ripped the knowledge from his mind. Didn’t want to think of her with another man. But here it was right in the face, proof-positive.

“I know who he is, Lil,” Ava said at last, her green eyes fastened on him, questioning him. Why was he here and when was he going to leave? they seemed to ask.

About twenty minutes ago, he’d been tearing down Route 15, all fired up, ready to ask some questions, ready to do battle with the woman who held all the answers. But this little girl had stopped him, quelled his ire and charmed the socks off him as her mother had done so many times in the past.

Like Ava was doing right now, just standing there on the grass, watching him, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. He cursed silently as all thoughts in his head disintegrated while his gaze traveled over every inch of her. The pink satin potato sack she’d been wearing earlier was gone and in its place was the reminder of how luscious her body had been and still was. His groin tightened. White shorts, white T-shirt and chunky sandals. Long, tanned legs, high, full breasts and toes painted the color of his saddle.

Jared wanted only to be angry, feel the rage he’d been holding inside for so long, but this woman had a power over him. The sun pierced through the slats in the overhang like torrents of golden rain, backlighting Ava. Complete with a halo of blond locks, she looked like an angel. Too beautiful to behold. Well, too beautiful for him to hold.

Jared turned to Lily. “Your mom and I used to know each other.”

Lily looked wide-eyed at her mother.

Ava smiled, then she glanced back at Jared. “Did you change your mind about coming to the wedding—”

“Not exactly.” He eased off his Stetson and wiped his brow. This was not going as planned. One thing was certain, he thought as he looked at the two of them. He sure as hell wasn’t going to interrogate Ava with her daughter around. It would have to be another time, another day.

Mother and daughter, he thought as he watched them sit down on the grass side by side, then start methodically picking blades of grass, discarding them. Why in the world hadn’t he thought about the possibility of a child? What a fool he was. She’d left Paradise to get married. And children were a natural progression in a marriage.

“When can I come see the horsies?” Lily asked, forcing Jared back into the present.

Jared smiled. “You’re welcome at my place anytime.”

“Now?”

“No, Lil,” Ava said quickly. “We’re about to have dinner.”

Undaunted, Lily said, “Tomorrow?”

Ava shook her head. “No. We…have plans.”

She sounded utterly panicked, Jared noticed. Hell, she looked panicked. Obviously she didn’t want him around her child. What did she think he was going to do?

His jaw tightened.

They’d talked about children once. The first night they’d made love. Late into the night in the small tack shed he’d fixed up to look romantic. They’d talked about everything: their future, being together, kids. Then he’d pulled her close, kissed her hungrily and made love to her again. Jared shook the images of wet skin and heated mouths out of his head. He wasn’t here to reminisce. She owed him an explanation and tomorrow would be the perfect time to get it. Muna could take Lily to see the horses and he and Ava could talk.

“What are we doing, Mommy?” Lily asked.

Ava startled. “When?”

“Tomorrow.” Jared supplied dryly.

“Oh. Well, I thought I’d take you to the movies. That cartoon you wanted to see is playing.”

“No,” Lily said, her brows drawing together. “I wanna see Jared’s horsies. One’s gonna have a baby.”

Ava tucked a stray hair behind Lily’s ear. “Jared’s a very busy man, sweetie.”

In other words, Jared thought, she thought he should be leaving, getting back to that busy life and getting out of here. Fine, he’d give her what she wanted and be on his way. But not without a promise for tomorrow.

“I wanna help him with the baby horsie, Mommy.”

“Oh, Lil. He doesn’t do that himself. He hires a vet to—”

“Actually I do help in the birth,” Jared interrupted.

Ava’s brows rose considerably. “You do?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said tightly. “I am good for more than asset allocation and stock portfolios. I was pretty handy on a ranch once upon a time.”

Ava felt like crawling beneath the blades of grass that fluttered in the breeze under her hand. She hadn’t said one sane word since she’d seen him and Lily together. She amended, “I know you are. I didn’t mean that. I just never knew that you helped with foaling, that’s all.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Ava.” He jammed his hat back on his head. “And there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

The thin shelter of grass was far too open a place to hide, she thought. She scanned the ground, ashamed of those kinds of thoughts. She knew better than anyone that running away never solved a thing. Was she going to run forever? Was she ever going to stop, take a deep breath and face life?

Admittedly, facing life, past and future was partly why she’d come back to Paradise. She looked up into Jared’s severe but magnetic gaze and found no shelter, no safe place to fall, only a deep yearning and seething anger.

At that moment, Lily jumped to her feet in a fit of spirit. “You can help us, too, Mommy.”

“Listen, Lil, I never said—”

The little girl put her hands on her hips. “C’mon, peas?”

Saying no to the word “peas” was near to impossible.

“First things first,” Jared said to Lily. “Why don’t you two just come by tomorrow, then we’ll see about helping with the foaling.” He nodded at Ava. “My house at noon? Can’t miss the place. Out the highway, then a right at Wes Lamb’s place and down a few miles.”

Ava opened her mouth to speak, then closed it as she shook her head. “I know you’re really busy with your work. We can—”

“There’s a lot to catch up on.” He arched a brow at her. “I’ll make the time.”

“See, Mommy. He said he makes time.”

Yes, he did, Ava thought, frustration setting in for the second time that day. She knew now that he wasn’t here to get an invitation to Rita’s wedding. He’d come here for answers. But Lily’s presence, her existence, had thrown him, so he was pushing for tomorrow when he could get her alone. The thought unnerved Ava in ways she didn’t want to explore.

“Can I pet the horsies, Jared?” Lily asked, her eyes dancing.

“I don’t see why not.” He gave her an easy smile. “It’ll be good for them to see a pretty face after looking at the ranch hands’ ugly mugs day in and day out.”

Lily looked at her mother. “Mommy? Peas…”

Jared tipped his Stetson back. “Ava?”

It was a challenge—and one she knew she shouldn’t back down from.

The unrelenting heat from the sun burned through her clothes. And no cool breeze was sent to rescue her. She felt herself nod. “All right.”

Lily squealed. “I’m gonna tell Auntie Rita.”

Yeah, tell Rita. She’s going to love this.

“She’s a great kid, Ava,” Jared said as Lily took off into the house.

“Thank you.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“So, where’s her father?”

She felt her smile fade. “Excuse me?”

“Your husband? Where is he?”

“As I said, we’re not together anymore,” she said quickly, coming to her feet.

A shadow passed over his eyes. “I can’t help but wonder why you kept your last name.” He looked up at her, his steely gray gaze searing through her. “Look, I was going to wait until tomorrow. But maybe we can get a head start.” His brows raised expectantly. “Don’t you think I’ve waited long enough to hear the truth?”

“The…truth,” she fairly stuttered as she turned away sharply, searching for the right words anywhere else but in his eyes.

She didn’t get very far.

Her hand brushed against the picnic table, knocking over the pitcher of lemonade. She fought for her footing as ceramic crashed against brick, as liquid and ice spilled everywhere. Her pulse pounded in her ears. In an instant, she was on her knees grabbing for the shards of orange and green earthenware, Jared beside her.

Her mind churned at a hundred miles an hour. He wanted to hear the truth. But which truth?

Ava sucked in her breath and dropped a shard of broken pottery. Clutching her hand to her breast, she glanced down, her index finger stinging and aching. Tiny droplets of blood fell from her finger onto the ground and onto the jagged square of ceramic.

Jared reached for her hand. “You cut yourself.”

“I’m fine,” she said, pulling away from him. The last thing she needed was for him to touch her.

“Let me see it, Ava.”

“No. It’s nothing.”

He took her hand anyway. Wasn’t that just like him, she thought as she gave in to his strong, callused fingers, prying open her tight fist. A small gash marred her index finger. Nothing serious, just a bad scrape, but Jared was really focused on it. He grabbed one of the quickly melting ice cubes off the ground and placed it on the cut.

Ava sucked in her breath at the sharp pain.

“Sorry,” he whispered, rolling the ice over the cut in small circles. “It isn’t deep. No permanent damage done.”

She glanced up at him, her traitorous gaze tracing the open collar of his shirt, then stopping to stare at his smooth, tanned chest cut with pure corded muscle. Her fingers twitched in remembrance of how his chest felt beneath her hands, against her breasts. Beads of ice water trickled down her wrist, begging her pulse to slow.

“Ava, dinner’s ready.”

Rita called her from what seemed like a land far, far away. But it was enough. Ava pulled her hand and her gaze away from Jared and stood up.

He followed suit. “You should get some peroxide on that.”

She nodded.

“And I should go.” He touched the brim of his hat and started to walk away.

Last chance. To what? she thought. Run away, escape, try to get out of this neighborly call that wasn’t going to turn out very neighborly? She said, “Listen, Jared, about tomorrow.”

He turned and cut her a sideways glance. “What about it?”

She bit her lip. This was getting ridiculous. There was no escaping the inescapable. He deserved the truth. Hell, he demanded it. And whatever happened tomorrow she’d deal with it—here or back in New York. At least she and Jared could be free of a four-year burden. She took a deep breath, praying that he was ready to hear what she had to say. “We’ll be there at noon.”

Three

She stood above him, unbuttoning her blouse at the pace of a lazy river tumbling over smooth stones. Wrapped in the gentle light of a crescent moon, she locked her gaze with his and bared one creamy shoulder, then the other. A smile tugged at her full lips as she dropped her arms to her sides, allowing the silky fabric to fall to the grass beside her bare feet.

Even the cool grass beneath him couldn’t quell the searing heat that shot straight to his groin. He was hard and waiting. He was always hard and waiting when she looked at him that way: determined and far past hungry.

A sudden breeze moved past, catching her hair, blowing it about her face. Her nipples beaded beneath the sheer, pale-pink bra she wore. She was beautiful, and he couldn’t stop his gaze from traveling lower to her smooth abdomen, downward to what other surprises awaited him. His throat went dry as he witnessed the shadow between her thighs. It was heaven barely masked by the slip of pink at her hips.

“Say it, Jared,” she whispered, lowering herself on top of him.

He chuckled, cupped her buttocks firmly and whispered, “Happy birthday, Ava,” against her neck as he rolled them sideways.

She lay beneath him, her sweet scent intoxicating—like honey and wildflowers.

“I want your mouth,” she said.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he lowered his head to within inches of hers, their mouths a breath away. She ran her tongue over her lower lip and arched her hips up to him, her eyes pooling desire.

He cupped her face in his hands, ready to take what was his, what he’d been waiting for for years—maybe all of his life.

Suddenly her eyes clouded over. “Jared. I… I have to—”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart, but relax and enjoy.”

Her gaze flickered to his mouth, then returned to his eyes as though she were pondering his offer. Then her hands found his face, her fingers found his hair and he groaned, leaning into her palms. “Ava. I love when you touch me.”

“Jared, I have to go,” she breathed, her hands continuing to caress him.

He felt himself nod. “Later.”

“Now.” Her voice was insistent, but calm.

Through foggy eyes, he tried to focus. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I don’t love you. I’ve never loved you.” Unrelentingly she raked her fingers through his hair, held him tight and moved beneath him. “There’s someone else.”

“No,” he practically growled.

She offered him a teasing smirk before she leaned in and whispered in his ear, “You’re such a fool, Jared Redwolf.”

Jared sat bolt upright, the morning sun assaulting his eyes, his senses, his mind. Tangled in sheets and drenched in sweat, he fought for air—he fought to make sense of what had just happened. His gaze darted right and left. He was in his bed, fists clenched, jaw tight. What the hell? He looked at the clock: 7:30 a.m.

It was back. He rubbed a hand over his face, groaning at that dreaded realization. He hadn’t had that dream in three years. That damn dream that had always had his body aching for Ava, while his mind, his tongue longed to curse her.

Take it easy, Redwolf, he urged. She’ll be gone in a few weeks. Out of your life and your dreams for good.

But what about his mind? he wondered, knifing a hand through his mussed hair. Would there ever be a time when she wasn’t in his thoughts?

He glanced at the clock once again: 7:33. If today went as planned, that hope was possible. And with a little help from Tina Marie Waters tonight, it might even be probable. The sexy redhead was always around, and any time he visited her she’d always ask him to stay late, stay until morning. He’d never stayed before, but maybe he’d just take her up on that offer. Hell, rules were made to be broken. Especially in dire circumstances.

And Ava Thompson was a dire circumstance.

He shut his eyes for a moment only to see her imprint on his mind, standing above him in those pale-pink strips of lace, her skin like satin and her eyes flashing velvet-green desire.

“Dammit!” He opened his eyes, ripped off the bed-covers and jerked out of bed.

After today, she’d be a distant and forgettable memory even if that meant he’d never sleep again.

“I think carrots were the perfect choice.” Ava took her daughter’s hand as they left Killer Chicken Market and stepped out into the sunshine. “If you were a horse what would be your favorite treat?”

“Bubba gum ice cream,” Lily replied without a moment’s hesitation.

Always decisive, Ava mused as she followed her daughter’s example and jumped over the cracks in the wide sidewalk that paralleled Main Street. Where Lily had learned such superstitious behavior was anyone’s guess, but the skipping and jumping and laughing was all good in Ava’s book. She liked to play with her daughter. She hadn’t allowed herself much of an easygoing childhood and Lily was a good teacher. The games definitely took some of the levelheadedness out of Ava, replacing it with a carefree heart. Of course, today, she’d have to skip a good fifty miles to acquire a light heart.

In about a half hour, they were going to see Jared and his horses. Well, Lily was anyway. Ava was just tagging along. And she hated to admit it, but seeing his house, the life he’d made for himself, was a tempting prospect. While seeing him was just plain tempting. Even if it came with a hefty price tag: telling him the truth.

“Don’t let go of my hand, sweetie,” Ava reminded Lily as they walked across the street.

“Mommy, how come nobody honks horns here?”

Ava laughed. “I guess they’re not in a very big hurry.” She looked around, the coolness of a Bigtooth Maple tree overhead giving her a moments respite from the hot sun. “It is pretty quiet compared to Manhattan, isn’t it?”

Lily nodded. “I like it here.”

Ava stopped in front of her car and looked down at her daughter. Really looked, deeply. “Do you, sweetie?”

Lily nodded again, her large, gray eyes bursting with wishes and wants.

The windows to the soul really were just that, and Ava wondered if someone looked deeply enough into her eyes would they see that she wasn’t happy in New York, either. That it wasn’t her home and never would be.

She turned away from her daughter and unlocked the car door. In just a few weeks they had to go back to New York whether they wanted to or not. They’d made a life there, some semblance of a home. Heck, she had a great job and clients who depended on her. She didn’t really belong here.

“That old man’s staring, Mommy.”

Lily’s words pulled Ava out of the fog that held her mind captive and she glanced up. For a moment she could only stare back at the old man across the street that Lily was pointing to, her pulse racing. She hadn’t seen him in four years, but it felt like longer. He hadn’t changed much, but the lines etched in his face were deep and weighty. She cursed herself for wondering what made him look so unhappy—for caring at all after what he’d put her through.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?”

Ava gripped her daughter’s hand, feeling excessively protective. “Nothing, Lil. Let’s go.”

Let’s get out of here before I say something or he says something or—

“Ava?”

Too late.

She stopped where she stood—trying to urge her daughter into the car—and turned to face him. “Hello, Dad.”

Family, and friends of the family, had always kidded with Ben and Olivia Thompson that neither one of their daughters looked anything like either one of them. Two blond kids born to two brunette parents. Ava was certain that she’d inherited a few of her mother’s features, but none of her father’s. Not until today anyway. There it was, plain as day. Not a feature exactly, but an expression—one he’d never worn before—and it surprised her. Doubt and hesitance. She’d seen that very same look a thousand times in the mirror.

He gave her a tentative smile. “You’re home.”

She only nodded. Her throat felt constricted.

“It’s good to see you.” He dropped his gaze to the little girl at her side. “Is this Lily?”

Ava nodded, gripping her daughter’s hand. “Yes.”

Please don’t say anything cruel, she begged silently as she watched him lower onto one knee in front of Lily, his body making all those crunches and cracks that came with age.

“Hi, there,” he said.

“Hi.” Lily moved closer to Ava. “Who are you?”

Ava held her breath, her hand fisting around the car keys.

“I’m your grandpa.”

Lily smiled and gave him a nonchalant shrug. “Okay.”

Relief spread like a warm blanket over and through Ava, but it was swiftly replaced by fear. Fear of her daughter knowing her grandfather and someday being rejected by him. When love was tossed aside in favor of pride, people got hurt. Very hurt. She didn’t trust the man making nice to her daughter.

“It’s my birthday,” Lily was telling him, holding up six fingers. “In this many months.”

He smiled. “I know.”

She giggled. “You do?”

Of course he did. A time that, to Ben Thompson, would most assuredly live in infamy. Next he’d be asking her what she’d like for a present, Ava thought as she tugged on her daughter’s hand. “We have to go, Dad. We’re expected somewhere.”

“I get to see the horsies at Jared’s house,” Lily supplied. “Do you know Jared?”

Ben Thompson came to his feet, the lines around his mouth tightening. “I do.”

Ava turned away, darkness surging through her. He hadn’t changed at all. He was still a sad old bigot. What was she thinking standing here? It was as if she was waiting to be hurt by him again. She opened the back door. “Get in the car, Lil.”

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