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Texas-Sized Temptation
Sara Orwig
Star of His Heart
Brenda Jackson
MILLS & BOON
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Texas-Sized Temptation
Sara Orwig
Jake built a fire in the fireplace and then sat beside Caitlin. Close.
Handing her drink to her, he brushed her hand lightly. The physical contact, while so slight, burned. Soft, warm skin. A startling awareness that increased his desire.
She smiled at him. “Thank you. We’re having quite a storm. There won’t be any going home the way I came. This kind of downpour gets the river spilling out of its banks.”
She slanted him a look that was hot. He wondered if it was deliberate. Maybe he shouldn’t be so hasty in getting rid of her.
While he had no intention of selling any part of the Santerre ranch back to her, how far would she go to try to convince him to do so?
“We have plenty of room,” he said in a husky voice. “You can stay all night.”
Dear Reader,
Our lives are interwoven with our families and as the years pass, no one can predict outcomes. Falling in love involves two people, but their relationship is also affected by the influence of family, which I like to include in my stories.
Family has always been important in my life, and it is consequential in my books. This time it is the world of Jake Benton, a cowboy CEO, a multi-millionaire mogul who loves his West Texas cattle ranch and a cowboy’s life. He never expects to cross paths with his beautiful neighbor. Their sizzling attraction plays havoc with bitter feelings from generations of feuding between their families.
Against the backgrounds of Dallas, a West Texas ranch and the French Quarter in New Orleans, the family conflicts give the characters tough choices to make. Each has to cope with events from the past. Caitlin’s tenderhearted care for others propels her into a tempestuous relationship with Jake. Ultimately, Jake makes a life-changing discovery that he hopes will win Caitlin’s heart. Their story begins …
Sara Orwig
About the Author
SARA ORWIG lives in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara has written historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.
To David, Susan, Jim, Hannah, Ellen,
Rachel, Dixie, Joe, Kristine, Cameron, Anne, Brian,
Colin, Elisabeth, Myles. With many thanks to Maureen.
One
Unless the event had been an act of God, when was the last time a life-changing decision had been taken out of his control? Not for years. And he intended to keep it that way.
Beneath darkening skies in the early October afternoon, Jake Benton drove from the private airstrip toward his ranch. From the moment he had left Dallas for the weekend, he had been happy to put distance between himself and his father, who still meddled in his life. They had once fought over which university Jake would attend; later whether he would work in the family business or not. That had brought the first threat to disinherit him. Now when his dad threatened to disinherit Jake, it was over bigger and more important things. Like the most recent demand to get married within the year.
Jake shoved thoughts about his quarrel with his father out of mind. He was on his way to his sprawling West Texas ranch, a retreat where he could get away to relax. The only people for miles were ones who worked for him and his brother. As always when he returned to the ranch, he wondered why he didn’t come more often.
He couldn’t escape the phone or demands of business, but he could cut back on them.
Jake felt himself relax as the family ranch home that was now his, with its guesthouses, bunkhouse, staff homes, outbuildings, barns, shop, gym and various other structures, appeared in the distance. Irrigated, landscaped yards with beds of brightly colored fall blooms surrounded each house. Jake took in the view, his pleasure over being at the ranch increasing. While clouds hid the sun and thunder rumbled closer at hand, the road divided. Jake took the curve leading to his house. As he turned the corner and drove to the side of the house, he saw someone on his porch. Startled, he stared in surprise. He had a fence and security at the gate leading from the highway. In all the years he had never had any uninvited visitors—until now.
His first reaction was annoyance that someone had breached his privacy and trespassed. Curiosity replaced aggravation. His trespasser, from a distance, looked like a woman. The closer he approached, the more he could see that she was good-looking.
As he pulled to a stop only yards from his house, his gaze raked over her. She stood, walked to the steps and halted to watch him.
Auburn hair piled on her head framed an oval face with prominent cheekbones. Her long legs, encased in pale, slim jeans above Western boots caught his attention. A short leather jacket was cut high, revealing her tiny waist. He was close enough now to experience a skip in his heartbeat.
His last shred of animosity vanished. Searching his memory for a clue to her identity or reason for her on his porch, he remained at a loss. He couldn’t imagine why she was waiting for him or how she had known he was coming. Intrigued, determined to get answers, he stepped out of the car.
As his gaze locked with hers, he was startled by a sizzling current of attraction. The chemistry was instant, hot and inviting.
Whatever she was up to, she was audacious. As he approached her, he felt a defiance coming from her that puzzled him.
“Welcome home, Jake,” she said in a mellow, quiet voice. In spite of the polite greeting, his sense of a silent challenge increased.
With his gaze still fastened on hers, he climbed the porch steps until he reached the top. Standing only inches from her, he had intended to intimidate her. Instead, he felt ensnared in huge, crystal-green eyes fringed with sweeping auburn lashes. She was gorgeous and he couldn’t pull his gaze away.
“I don’t often get surprised, but I am now,” he admitted. “How’d you get past my security at the gate?”
When a faint smile lifted the corner of her mouth, his attention shifted lower to her full lips. Her mouth made him wonder how it would be to kiss her. Taking a deep breath, he tried to get his thoughts back to his question.
“You don’t know me, do you?” she asked.
“No,” he admitted. Even more disturbing, she thought he should know her. He never could have gone out with her without remembering. A woman with fabulous looks was not to be forgotten. “You have the advantage. I suspect I should know you. One thing, we’ve never gone out together,” he said, voicing aloud his thoughts.
Another faint smile tugged at her mouth. “No, we haven’t,” she said patiently. “And to answer your question, I didn’t pass your security checkpoint. I came across your ranch from the west.”
“There’s no gate or road from the west,” he said, glancing beyond her at the land that vanished in a long grove of thick oaks he’d had planted as a windbreak. He could picture beyond the oaks, the flat, mesquite-covered land extending miles to his western boundary. “If you forded the river, it must be mostly dried up now, but rain is threatening,” he said, taking a deep breath and smelling the rain that approached. “If you have a vehicle parked in the woods, I better let my foreman know before he calls the sheriff. You’re trespassing, which could cause you trouble. I can call the sheriff to have you arrested. I have signs posted.”
“This is a desperate effort to talk to you. I haven’t been able to get past the secretaries and your attorneys.”
His curiosity returned. With an effort he stopped staring at her, focusing instead on who she was. For all he knew, she could be a threat, although at the moment, he would relish a physical struggle with her because he would like to touch her.
An intriguing scent tempted him.
“All right, you want to talk. We can sit here on the porch and have a discussion,” he said, motioning toward chairs. He was reluctant to invite her into his house. It crossed his mind that she might be armed. “First though, I’ll admit, I don’t know who you are.”
He received another flicker of amusement. “Caitlin Santerre.”
The name was a knife stab. As if ice water had poured over him, he cooled toward her while he stared at her, reconciling his memory of Caitlin Santerre with the beautiful woman standing before him.
“Son-of-a-gun,” he said beneath his breath, for once not hiding his reaction to a shock. “You grew up. What the hell do you want with me?”
“You actually don’t even know, do you?” she asked, anger creeping into her tone. “You own our land. I want to buy part of it back.”
“You get to the point. Yes, I own it. It’s my land since your brother sold it. I was surprised he was willing to sell it to me.”
“Will loves money more than maintaining an old family feud, remaining loyal to the family and keeping the home place. All Will wants is to take care of Will,” she said.
“I have to agree, but I’m biased. You should have told him to not sell,” Jake said, trying to remember the age difference. He had never paid attention to her as a child when he saw her in town. She had seemed years younger and he hadn’t given her a thought then or since.
“My brother and I aren’t close. We never have been.”
“That I can understand,” Jake said, a cynical note creeping into his voice when he thought about Will Santerre whom he despised. The litany ran through his thoughts—the first Benton to settle in Texas in the mid-1800s, killing the first Santerre who was trying to divert water. The retaliations followed, which included killing cattle, poisoning water. In the next generation a Santerre son burned the Benton house and barn. The feud continued until his father put Caitlin’s father in the hospital after a fistfight. Finally, his generation with the ultimate and most personal clash, made Jake feel the old hurts like a scar. He would always be certain Will Santerre had killed his older sister, Brittany. Will was tried and found not guilty. Will had sworn it was Brittany who caused the car crash, but Jake would never be convinced. His family was guilty of doing things to the Santerres, but his family had always felt justified. While Jake had hated it, Brittany had been in love with Will. Brittany had been Football Queen, Class President, beautiful, popular—Will loved the girls and went after her. Maybe out of both revenge and really wanting her. Maybe just because he had thought she would be a conquest that would make him look good. Jake could never believe anyone as selfish as Will could love another person. As far as he was concerned, Will loved himself more than anybody else. Jake looked at Caitlin. Her beauty now was tempered by the knowledge of her lineage.
The first huge drops of rain fell, slanting to hit along the edge of the porch. “This rain was a twenty-percent chance—most unlikely from the morning weather report. I’ll make this short,” she said.
“Let me call my foreman about your vehicle—what did you drive? “
She flashed a smile that made Jake forget his hostility again. Her white teeth were even and her smile was a warm invitation as if she were on the verge of sharing a delightful secret. “There’s no vehicle. And there’s no road,” she answered, jerking her head toward the trees. “I came from the west on horseback. He jumped your fence. You might want to tell your foreman I have a tethered horse. I would appreciate getting my horse out of the weather.”
“Ah, now I know why no one spotted you. I have men who drive the boundaries, but they can’t cover this big ranch all the time. The likelihood of anyone coming across the ranch from any direction other than the highway is minimal to nonexistent. I’m not here most of the time, keep a low profile when I am home, and it’s peaceful out here. I don’t have enemies—or at least not many,” he said, thinking of his former neighbors. Jake glanced at the trees again. “I’ll tell someone to bring your horse in so it’s sheltered.”
“Thanks.”
As Jake made his call, more drops fell. He put away his phone. “My foreman will put your horse in the stable closest to the house.”
“Thanks.”
“This may only be a fall shower. Let’s go inside where we can talk in more comfortable surroundings,” Jake suggested, intrigued by her in spite of his burning hatred of her half brother. “Since our grandfathers’ days, we haven’t had to worry much about trespassers.”
“I guess our fathers were less into tearing down fences and stealing livestock from each other than the generations before them. The feud between our families began with the first two men who settled here.”
“It may be less violent, but it hasn’t ever ended,” Jake said, thinking again of Will.
“Where is Will now?”
“He won’t ever be back. He’s bought a home in San Francisco and also owns a home in Paris. He’s into investments. Beyond that, I know little about him. We have virtually no contact.”
Knowing they were getting on a bad topic, Jake held the door for her. “This is a turn in the feud—you’re the first Santerre to be invited in.”
She barely looked at her surroundings as they walked down the wide hall. “So this is where you grew up.”
“Yes. The original part of this house is as old as the house where you grew up. I know your dad’s house was built later.”
“My dad’s house no longer exists,” she said sharply. “Your crew began demolition last week. It doesn’t take long to destroy a structure. Fortunately, Grandmother’s house is the one that dates back to the beginning.”
Holding back a retort, Jake directed her into a room. “Let’s sit in the study,” he said.
They entered one of Jake’s favorite places, spacious with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on two walls while the remaining walls were glass. French doors opened onto the wraparound porch and patio, which had been remodeled with an extended roof and comfortable living areas. Beyond the patio, steps led down to a pool with a waterfall, a cabana, chairs and chaise longues. Tropical plants added an appealing touch.
“Have a seat,” Jake said. He turned as she sat in a leather wingback chair. In a sweeping glance he took in her blue Western shirt that clung to lush curves and tucked into her snug jeans. Her belt circled a waist that was as small as he had guessed at his first glimpse. The little Santerre kid he had always ignored had turned into a stunning woman. He sat in another leather chair that faced her across a low mahogany table.
She crossed her long legs and he wondered how she would look in a dress. The image made his blood heat. She looked poised, comfortable, unlike someone desperate to get him to agree to something. She also looked desirable. Even though she was a Santerre, there was a red-hot chemistry about her that tempted him to forget who she was.
When he looked up from her legs, his eyes met hers and he was again ensnared. Attraction was tangible. She had to feel it because she held his gaze as invisible sparks heated him. He wanted to know her better. At the same time, the lifelong hatred of all Santerres coated the magnetism with bitterness. Caitlin was as forbidden as poison, yet he wanted to place his lips on her to taste and kiss.
Taking a deep breath he tore his gaze away to return his attention with more composure.
“Have you been waiting long?” he asked. “I took my time flying in here this morning.”
“I was willing to wait,” she said.
“How’d you know I was coming today?”
Amusement flashed in her expressive eyes. “I’ve hired a private detective to learn your whereabouts so I could find an opportunity to talk to you. You rarely have a bodyguard with you.”
“You’re taking a chance because you know I can have you arrested.”
“It would be a little more difficult to consider me a trespasser now that you’ve invited me into your house.”
“So you want to buy back part of your ranch. Why didn’t you discuss this with your brother?”
“My half brother never gave me the opportunity. It’s general knowledge in these parts that traditionally in the Santerre family, the oldest son inherits the ranch. They are raised to protect the ranch, maintain it, keep it in the family. Well, all of that instruction didn’t take with Will. He does as he pleases and he has no interest in cowboys, the country or ranch life.”
“He told me he didn’t,” Jake said, thinking about the closing that he hadn’t planned to attend and then did just to face Will when he bought out the Santerres. In spite of Will being happy over the sale, the buyout had been sweet revenge—a goal through generations of Bentons to see the last of the Santerres in the area. Jake’s attorneys had already informed him that Caitlin wasn’t included in the ranch inheritance. Also, she hadn’t lived at the ranch since she had graduated from college. He still had thought of her as a child, so he had dismissed her from mind.
“Why didn’t Will sell part of the ranch to you since you want it badly?”
“He didn’t bother to contact me, either about selling or to ask if I wanted to buy any part of it. Will and I aren’t close. He cares only about himself.”
“I’d agree with that,” Jake stated, remembering the antagonism he had felt toward Will at the closing. Each time he had looked into Will’s hazel eyes, he could see loathing mirrored there.
“If it were left up to Will,” Caitlin continued, “I would be excluded from the family. Our father felt the same.”
“If I remember correctly, your grandmother raised you. She was a Santerre, actually, your father’s mother.”
“Yes, but unlike him in so many ways. I loved her deeply and she was good to me. Because of her, I’m recognized as a Santerre by everyone except Will.”
Jake recalled lots of gossip regarding the Santerre family history—how Caitlin’s mother had been a maid for the Santerres, the brief affair … and the resulting baby. And how the baby had been unacknowledged and cut off by Titus Santerre, yet adopted and raised by her paternal grandmother. How Titus Santerre had remained married to Will’s mother until her death and did not remarry.
“Why do you want to buy any of the ranch back?” he asked. “You don’t live here any longer and you’re not a rancher.” His gaze drifted over her thick auburn hair that was pinned loosely on her head with a few escaping strands. Looking silky, her hair was another temptation, making him think of running his fingers through the soft strands.
“I adored my grandmother and I loved growing up in her house. The people who worked for her closely were included in her will. Our foreman, Kirby Lenox, Altheda Perkins, who was our cook and now also cleans, and Cecilia Mayes, Grandmother’s companion—they all stayed on. Kirby and two who work for him, still run the ranch. They care for the horses and the few cattle we have. Altheda maintains the house, cooking and overseeing the cleaning. Cecilia is elderly now. She devoted her life to Grandmother, first as her personal secretary and later as companion.
“I knew people were still staying there.”
“As owner, you could have evicted them.”
“I’m not in a rush. I figured they would leave before long. If they didn’t, then I planned to tell them they had to go. It is my property.”
“I love all of them because they were there when I grew up. I wanted to keep the house, barn and animals for them as long as they live. I wanted to be able to return occasionally to the ranch house—just as you must do here.”
Jake nodded. “Why didn’t you tell Will?”
She looked away but he had seen the coldness in her expression that came with his question. “I did tell Will. He just laughed at me and reminded me that my father barely acknowledged my existence so I had no say in what he did with the ranch. He said he would tell me if it looked as if I could come up with more money to buy it and make a better offer than anyone else who bid on it. When the time came, he didn’t. I knew nothing about the sale. He didn’t legally have to notify me because I had no more part of ownership of the ranch than a stranger.”
Jake felt no stir of sympathy for her. Even though she and Will were alienated, Jake couldn’t forget that they were both Santerres. The same blood ran in her veins as in Will’s.
“You know I can’t work up much sympathy for a Santerre,” Jake admitted, voicing his thoughts aloud. “Not even a beautiful one.”
One dark eyebrow arched as she gave him a level look. “You’re honest. I’m not asking you to like me or even see me again in your lifetime. I just want to buy the house and part of the land. Grandmother never owned it. There was a stipulation in my father’s will assuring her she could live there the rest of her life and then it would belong to Will. All I want is a small part.”
“What advantage for me would there be in doing any such thing?” he asked. “It would mean keeping a Santerre for a neighbor. You surely heard the family histories and know what kind of past we’ve had.”
“Oh, I’ve heard,” she replied lightly as if discussing the weather. “The first Benton killed the first Santerre over water. The river meanders and thus the argument continues about each family’s rights and boundary. Our great-great-grandfathers were political opponents. Your family supposedly burned down our barn in the early days, rustled cattle, stole our horses. The list is long.”
“You’ve left out the most recent episode that touched our lives, at least it affected mine. You may have been young enough to miss it. I’m thirty-four. You must be about twenty-two.”
Her eyes danced with amusement. “You’re a little off. If that were the case, when you were seventeen in high school, I would have been toddling off to kindergarten. No, I’m twenty-eight now.”
Smiling, he shrugged. “You were a little kid. You might as well have been five when I was seventeen. I paid no attention to you at that age.”
“Mmm, I’ll have to remedy that. I have no intention of letting you continue to ignore me,” she drawled, making his heart skip because she was flirting with him.
“Maybe I’ll have to reassess my attitude toward Santerres,” he said.
“You might be surprised by what you’d find,” she rejoined, slanting him a coy smile that made his pulse jump.
“You should make me forget you’re related to Will. As far as our family is concerned, Will caused my sister Brittany’s death.”
“When the District Attorney pressed charges and Will was brought to trial, he was found innocent. The car wreck was ruled an accident. Will has been cleared of that charge,” Caitlin stated matter-of-factly.
“I’ll never feel he was innocent,” Jake replied. “Will testified that Brittany tried to run him off the road. But she was in love with him. Will is the one who ran her off the road.”
“The jury found Will innocent. Will and I barely speak. He’ll probably cease to do so now that our father is gone. Although, my success in my profession has given Will a grudging mellowing toward me. Not enough to inform me of his decision to sell the ranch, much less of the agreement to sell it to you.”
“Will is rotten,” Jake said, thinking more about Caitlin’s silky auburn hair and huge eyes, still amazed to learn her identity.
“Please think about this. I want to save the house and people’s livelihoods that you’ll take away. I love them and they’re older now. I feel responsible for their well-being because they’ve devoted their lives to my grandmother and to me.”
“Noble, but they also got paid to do so and probably a damned good salary.”
“Sure, but it went beyond that. That house holds happy memories. Please rethink my request to buy before you answer hastily.”
He smiled at her as he sat in silence and studied her. “All right, I’ll think about it, but I doubt if I’ll change my mind.”
“If so, your decision has to be spite.” Her expression didn’t change. Green eyes observed him coolly. “You have one of the largest ranches in the state as it is and now you’ve bought up neighboring ranches as well as ours. I urge you to have an open mind when you give this thought.”
“It isn’t spite. At least not toward you. It’s vengeful where Will is concerned. I was delighted to buy him out. Even happier to tear down Will’s home place, turning it into rubble that will be cleared. Eventually, in its place will be mesquite, cactus and bare ground.”
Lightning crackled and popped while thunder made the windows rattle. Rain began to drum against the house.
Jake’s mind raced as his gaze roamed over her again. Her beauty pulled on his senses and there was an unmistakable physical attraction, but he didn’t care to pursue it. She was a Santerre and he wasn’t selling land back to her. She should have talked to Will immediately after their father’s death about her wishes to keep their grandmother’s property. He glanced beyond her through the French doors at the downpour, listening to the loud hiss of rain.
He glanced at his watch; it was almost six o’clock. He wanted her to stay for dinner when common sense said to get rid of her. Tell her no, get her out of his life and keep the property. She would give up and go on with her life if she learned there was no hope of regaining her childhood home.
But, traitorous or not, he was enjoying the sight of her too much. “You might as well stay for dinner. You can’t ride home in this and I don’t care to get out in it right now. It’s a gully washer and you know as well as I do how fast creeks and streams here will flood, so just stay. I can take you home later and you can get your horse when it’s convenient.”
She gave him another of her long, assessing looks and he couldn’t guess what ran through her thoughts. “Very well, thank you.”
He nodded. “This place is stocked. All the staff is gone, Their work is minimal since I’m here so little. I give them notice when I want them. My cook lives here on the ranch, and the other house staff live in town. Since you’re here, I’ll ask Fred to come in the morning. He lives on the ranch, so it’s easy for him to do so. Dinner will be what I can rustle up.”
“That’s fine. You can keep it simple.”
“Want a drink? Wine, soft drink, mixed drink, beer?”
“A glass of water would be great,” she said.
“Let’s go to the family room. It’s more comfortable.”
“Fine, lead the way,” she said, standing in a fluid motion.
She was tall, although a good six inches shorter than he was. They walked into an adjoining room twice the size of the study with windows and French doors with another, more panoramic view of the storm. French doors also opened onto the porch and the covered patio. She crossed to the windows to look out while he built a fire in a stone fireplace. He went to the bar to get her water and get himself a cold beer.
“We can sit outside and watch the storm if you prefer, although it may be chilly. I can build a fire and I’ll cook out there.”
“I have a jacket.”
“And I don’t get cold,” he said. They walked out to the patio with its comfortable furniture, stainless-steel equipment and a state-of-the-art cooker.
“Even though there are no walls, you have what amounts to another few rooms out here,” she remarked, glancing around at a living area, a kitchen area and the cabana and pool.
“It’s livable. A fire will make it more so.” He built a fire in a fireplace and then sat facing her near the blazing orange flames.
Handing her drink to her, he brushed her hand lightly. The physical contact, while so slight, burned. Soft warm skin. A startling awareness increased his desire.
She smiled at him. “Thank you. We’re having quite a storm. There won’t be any going home the way I came. As you said, this kind of downpour gets the river spilling out of its banks.”
She slanted him a look that was hot. He wondered if it was deliberate. Maybe he shouldn’t be so hasty in getting rid of her after dinner.
While he had no intention of selling any part of the Santerre ranch back to her, how far would she go to try to convince him to do so?
“It’s already dark out because of the storm,” he said. “We have plenty of room,” he added in a husky voice. “You can stay all night.”
