The Cowboy's Surrender

by

Anne Marie Novark

***

KINDLE EDITION

***

Book Two: The Diamondback Ranch Series

Copper River Oil Company is drilling for oil on the Diamondback Ranch. Dallas McCade can't do
a thing to stop them, because he doesn't own the mineral rights. To add insult to injury, they've
sent a woman to oversee the operation. Dallas has good reason to distrust women. As soon as he
sets eyes on Gillian Bankston, he loses his temper . . . and his control. That makes him spitting
mad and frustrated as hell.

Gillian has never met a man quite like Dallas. He's as prickly as a cactus, but his kisses are hot
enough to ignite a West Texas wildfire. Gillian's been burned before and wants nothing to do with
love or lust. Battle lines are drawn and it's war between the sexes. Will they surrender to the
powerful attraction neither can deny? Who will be the first to wave the white flag?

***

The Cowboy's Surrender

Copyright © 2010 by Anne Marie Novark

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner

whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of

brief quotations in critical articles or reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

***

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of

the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living

or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

***

Dedication

In loving memory to my Maternal Grandparents,

Who taught me to Love the Land.

***

CHAPTER ONE

Dallas McCade clenched his jaw in frustration and gripped the binoculars in a stranglehold,
squeezing the plastic casing so tightly the lenses creaked from the pressure. He adjusted the focus
once again. Anger and rage burned in his gut, just as it did every time he looked down on the scene
below.

They had been on his land for eight months. Eight excruciating tortuous months. Copper River Oil
Company had cut a road through his property, built temporary buildings, set up trailers for the crew,
and hauled in tons of heavy equipment. They were drilling for oil on the Diamondback Ranch, and
there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Lowering the binoculars, Dallas pushed the brim of his black Stetson up over his forehead and
reached in his pocket. He shook his head in disgust as he popped a white tablet into his mouth. The
sweet bitterness of the antacid washed over his taste buds, soothing its way to his stomach. He hated
taking the tablets. The relief they provided was temporary at best. The burning sensation in his belly
would last as long as Copper River stayed on his land.

Only four more months and the lease agreement would run out. Unless they struck oil. Then they
would be on his land forever, or almost forever. If they struck oil, he'd have to look at the black
pump-jacks for the rest of his damned life.

He didn't want them on his ranch. He hadn't asked them to come. He would never have had them there
in the first place. But he didn't own the mineral rights on that section of land.

They belonged to Jessie, his new sister-in-law. Dallas knew Jessie thought she'd had to lease the
rights or lose her business. He knew she believed it had been her last resort. But deep down in his
heart, he couldn't forgive her. Even when she'd married his brother Cameron, and the mineral rights
were put in a trust for their future children, Dallas still couldn't forgive. He understood the rights
would be back in the McCades' possession in the long run. But that was in the future. This was now.

Dallas hated to see his land exploited. Hated the helplessness of watching strangers working,
sleeping, tearing up the land on the Diamondback Ranch. It was enough to make a saint swear.

Four more months. He didn't know how he would stand it.

Ten days ago, Dallas thought his luck had changed. The company rep, the man in charge of the whole
operation, had been put out of commission due to a heart attack. Dallas had hoped Copper River Oil
would pack up everything and move on. But that hadn't happened.

He found out they were sending a new company representative, a woman from California, to take the
man's place. A woman for Christ's sake. That just added insult to injury. If there was any justice in the
world, they wouldn't strike oil; then, he and his ranch would be left in peace.

Taking one last look at the hated drilling site, Dallas turned on his heel and made his way to his diesel

pickup. He had some errands to do in town.

Most of his hired hands were busy putting up new fencing on the southern border of the ranch. Seemed
like they were always working on fences. It wasn't easy keeping sixty-four hundred acres properly
fenced.

A new shipment of barbwire and steel posts was waiting at the lumberyard in town. Dallas had
elected himself to haul the load to the ranch.

Salt Fork, Texas was a quiet little town, situated between Lubbock and Abilene. There wasn't much in
Salt Fork. A person could blink an eye and miss it, if he wasn't careful. Dallas loved the small town
almost as much as he loved the ranch.

The summer morning was bright and fresh as he turned onto the two-lane highway. The purple haze on
the horizon promised another scorcher of a day. Thrusting the aggravation of the drilling site from his
mind, Dallas sat back and enjoyed the twelve-mile ride.

To the east, the Double Mountains rose nobly in the distance, with the church steeple and green water
tower of Salt Fork standing in the foreground. It was a sight Dallas never tired of seeing.

Switching on the radio, the soft twang of a familiar country-western tune filled the cab of the truck.
Dallas hummed a few bars as the miles melted away.

His humming ceased abruptly when he spotted a woman trying to change a flat tire up ahead, on the
opposite side of the road. Dallas frowned and shook his head as he slowed the pickup. Just what he
needed, a lady in distress. He wasn't too fond of ladies. Oh, he enjoyed a soft, pretty woman in his
bed as well as the next guy. He just didn't trust females as far as he could spit.

The woman glanced up as he passed, then quickly ducked her head, resuming her attempts with the
jack. Dallas had a glimpse of dark eyes, smooth creamy skin, and hair the color of midnight.

Hell, he couldn't leave her. He'd have to help her out. Punching the brake, he deftly maneuvered the
big truck, made a U-turn and pulled behind the small compact car. His frown deepened when he saw
the California license plates.

Killing the motor, he cursed long and hard. It was the damned company rep, no doubt on her way to
the drilling site. He had a good mind to leave her to her fate.

He sat in the truck and watched as she pumped the jack up and down, pointedly ignoring his presence.
Her wrists looked fragile as she worked the jack. She looked fragile . . . and delicate, too. Slight
enough to blow away in a breeze.

The woman continued to ignore him. Giving the jack one last push, she straightened, wiped her hands
together, then stood staring at the uplifted tire. She squared her shoulders and walked purposefully to
the trunk of her car.

When she bent over to unfasten the bolt securing the spare tire, her tight khaki slacks stretched across
her bottom, hugging her figure, teasing Dallas's imagination. She might be slight, but she had a body
and curves a man dreamed about.

Wrestling the tire to the edge of the trunk, she stopped to rest for a moment. Breathing heavily, she
struggled to lift the tire up and out, but failed. The tire dropped back in the trunk. She tried to move it

again, lugging it to the edge one more time. The muscles in her arms strained with the weight as the
tire balanced precariously on the rim.

Well hell. Enough was enough. Dallas grudgingly admired her determination. She was a gutsy little
thing; he had to give her credit for that. He also had to remind himself he didn't like gutsy women.

She could ignore him all she wanted, but he had things to do, places to go. She would never get that
blasted tire changed by herself. He was going to help her whether she wanted help or not.

The temperature was a hundred degrees and rising. Didn't the woman realize she could faint from heat
exhaustion if she wasn't careful? Small patches of sweat already stained her white t-shirt, showing
traces of pink through the translucent material. Dallas tried to ignore the outline of her bra and the
glistening sheen of dampness on her arms. That sight was teasing more than his imagination.

Climbing out of his pickup, he strode purposefully toward the woman. Gravel crunched beneath his
boots. She stiffened, let go of the tire and whirled to face him, her eyes widening slightly. Was that
fear he detected in those velvety depths? He must be mistaken, because the impression vanished
quickly when she wiped her hands on the back of her pants and stepped forward to greet him.

"Hi, there. I could really use some help here. For a minute, I thought you were just going to sit there
and watch the show." She smiled and it nearly pole-axed him.

The woman offered her hand to shake, stepping even closer. "I'm Gillian Bankston," she said, her
voice low and husky. It washed over Dallas, making him think indecent and improbable thoughts
about her. His imagination was definitely getting out of control.

He stared at the small hand extended toward him. He didn't like shaking hands with women. And he
didn't want to shake this woman's hand in particular. Although he wouldn't mind touching her . . .

Damn his imagination anyway.

Stick to the facts, McCade. She was the new company rep. She was replacing the man at the drilling
site, which meant Copper River would continue the exploration, which meant she was the enemy.
Best to keep that in mind at all times.

He ignored the hand, brushed past her, and hauled the spare tire from the trunk. "You need more help
than you think, lady. This spare is flat."

Gillian dropped her hand to her side and squatted near the tire to examine it. "That's impossible. I had
it checked before I left home."

Dallas lifted the tire and let it drop. Instead of bouncing, it sank in on itself with a thud.

"Have to go to town and get it fixed," he said. Picking up the tire, he started for his truck. He dumped
it in the bed of the pickup, then glanced back at the woman. She stood where he'd left her, staring at
him, gnawing her bottom lip. Her lush bottom lip. A lip made for kissing, nibbling. Damn!

He jerked open the truck door. "You can wait here, or you can come along for the ride." Dallas
grimaced. Why had he said such a fool thing? He didn't want her company. He didn't want to be
anywhere near her.

He was disgusted with his body's reaction to her. He didn't know this woman, didn't want to know
her, yet he was fully and painfully aroused. And it was her fault.

Climbing in the truck, he waited. The woman seemed undecided. He leaned out the window. "I'll be
back as soon as I can. Probably an hour or so." He started the engine. Maybe she wouldn't take him up
on his invitation.

"Wait!" The woman ran to her car. She grabbed her purse, locked the door, then headed toward the
pickup.

She was out of breath when she jumped in and buckled up. "I'll go, if you don't mind."

Dallas gripped the steering wheel, concentrating on squelching his body's unwelcome response to her
low, seductive voice. He narrowed his eyes as he raked her with a scorching glance. "Lady, I don't
give a rat's ass what you do."

Dallas heard her quick intake of breath. He knew he'd insulted her, but didn't care. This woman
spelled trouble with a capital T. Not only did she threaten his ranch, she posed a threat to him
personally. He felt it in his gut, not to mention another part of his body. He had promised himself
never to get involved with a woman on a personal level again. He'd been there, done that, and had the
scars to prove it.

Turning the truck toward town, Dallas kept his eyes on the road. He'd get the tire fixed, send the little
lady on her way, and hope to God four months would pass quickly and Copper River wouldn't strike
oil. Then all his problems would disappear.

****

Gillian grasped the strap on the truck door and held on for dear life. The man who had offered to help
her was driving like a maniac. Why on earth had she agreed to come with him? She didn't know who
he was. He could be a serial killer, or worse. He looked mean enough. He had the build of a football
player. Six foot something, broad shoulders, thick muscular neck. His thighs bulged beneath the worn
denim of his jeans. The rugged face was carved in a frown. He was insufferably rude and looked at
her like she was some sort of insect.

Just because he was rude didn't mean she had to be. "I didn't catch your name," she said, trying to still
the trembling in her voice, more frightened and upset than she cared to admit.

"Didn't tell you." He kept his eyes on the road.

Anger quickly replaced fear. "Look Cowboy, are you always this rude? Or is it just something about
me? You didn't have to stop and help, although I do appreciate it."

The man slowly turned his head, meeting her gaze. "No, I didn't have to stop and help."

Gillian flushed as he stared at her. She felt naked and exposed at the thoroughly masculine appraisal.
A carnal light flickered in his deep blue eyes.

An answering tremor of desire shocked Gillian down to her toes. She swallowed hard. Twisting the
gold wedding band on her left finger, she reminded herself what had happened the last time she'd felt
a similar tremor.

The movement of her hands seemed to catch the man's attention, and he stared at her ring. When he
looked at her again, the hardness in his eyes hit her with brutal force. He deliberately returned his
gaze to the road. "The name's McCade. Dallas McCade." His rough voice grated the nerve endings

along her spine.

Gillian blinked. "You own the Diamondback Ranch?"

He nodded, his black Stetson dipping with the movement.

She let out a huge sigh of relief. He wasn't a serial killer, after all. He was just the rudest, most
obnoxious man she'd ever met. "Well, Mr. McCade. I would say it's been a pleasure to meet you, but-
-"

Dallas threw her a scathing glance. "Definitely not a pleasure, if you ask me."

Gillian recoiled from the resentment in his voice. The man didn't like her and was making no bones
about it.

They had warned her about Dallas McCade when she was offered Raymond's job at the drilling site
on the Diamondback Ranch. Something about him not owning the drilling rights and not wanting
Copper River Oil on his land. She hadn't thought much about it when she'd accepted the assignment.
She was used to dealing with tough, rowdy men. She didn't like it much, but it was something she had
to put up with if she wanted to do her job.

Lifting her chin, Gillian looked straight ahead. "You obviously know who I am and why I'm here. I'm
sorry if you don't like it. I understand that you don't want us drilling on your land, but--"

Dallas slammed on the brakes, and the tires screeched on the pavement as the truck lurched to a
sudden stop. Gillian surged forward. She tried to catch herself as the seat belt gave way. A large hand
clasped her shoulder, pushing her back against the seat.

Dallas leaned toward her, keeping his hand on her shoulder. "Look, lady. Saying that I don't like
Copper River drilling on my land doesn't come anywhere close to describing how I feel about it."

"Remove your hand," Gillian said in a whisper.

"What?" Dallas stared at his hand for a moment, then jerked it away and retreated to his side of the
cab.

Gillian swallowed hard again. She refused to give way to the suffocating feelings threatening her
composure. She reminded herself that all men were not like her dead husband. Dallas had grasped
and held her in a protective gesture, and when he realized he still held her, he had quickly released
her, the same way he would drop a hot coal.

She didn't know whether to feel relieved or annoyed. And for some reason, she wasn't afraid of him.
Just very aware.

Clearing her throat, she cast a sideways glance at the big man. He wasn't looking at her, but stared
straight ahead. He was a million miles away, lost in thought. Gillian was pretty sure she didn't want to
know his thoughts.

"Is this a habit of yours, Cowboy?" she asked. "Sitting in parked trucks? Staring at nothing?" Why in
the world had she said that? He was mad enough. She certainly didn't need to egg him on.

Once again, Dallas turned that crystalline gaze upon her. The left side of his sculpted mouth tugged
upward. "You are one feisty female, aren't you?" He started the engine and pulled the pickup onto the

pavement.

"It comes in handy on the job." Gillian tore her eyes away from his fascinating mouth. The smile
transformed his face. Seductively handsome features replaced the angry, frowning mask.

With her heart racing a mile a minute, Gillian struggled to deal with the alarming way her body was
reacting to the cowboy. Jiminy Christmas, she'd just met the man. There should be no reaction.

Striving to control her wayward hormones, Gillian studied the passing scenery. The land was rough
and wild, broken up by acres and acres of cultivated farmland. Long rows of cotton stretched for
miles, the red dirt dividing the thin green columns.

Gillian didn't believe in instant sexual attraction; or, she hadn't believed in it up until a moment ago.
Most of the romance novels she read were based on it, but somehow she'd never thought it could
really happen. At least, not to her. Until now.

"About your job--" Dallas began, then hesitated.

"My job?" She didn't look at him, didn't want to look at him.

"Do you think Copper River will strike oil?"

Gillian turned her head slightly until the cowboy was in her peripheral vision. He had almost choked
on those last two words. He must be really upset.

"I'm not sure how far along they are. There have been quite a few setbacks on this particular project."

"Not near enough, if you ask me," grumbled Dallas under his breath.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing. Forget it," he said, keeping his eyes straight ahead. "How much longer do you think it will
take?"

"To strike oil?" Gillian glanced at him. He actually cringed at her words.

"Yes, damn it. How much longer?"

He threw her such a look of loathing, Gillian scooted closer toward the door. The look wasn't
directed at her personally, she reminded herself. He was angry about the drilling on his land. "I won't
know for certain until I make my inspections. Even then, I won't know for sure. I'll keep you informed.
I promise."

She thought the muscled shoulders relaxed a bit, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The breath caught
half way down to her lungs. The loathing she'd seen in the blue eyes intensified as the rancher turned
to stare at her.

"Don't bother keeping me informed," he said. "You keep your pretty little ass on the drilling site. I
don't want to see you on any other part of my land. You got that straight, lady?"

Gillian exhaled the rest of the forgotten breath. She felt her cheeks grow red. No one had ever spoken
to her in that tone of voice before. Not the roughnecks on the drilling sites. Not even her dead
husband.

"Stop the truck."

"What?"

"I don't have to put up with your rudeness." She gathered her purse and held it against her chest. "I
said to stop the truck."

"Damn it all to hell. Look, lady. It's six more miles to town. You planning to walk the rest of the way?
And what about the tire? Gonna carry it? It's hot as hell out there."

"I'd rather die of heat stroke, than stay in here with you another minute," she said. "Now stop the
truck!"

"No."

"Mr. McCade," Gillian said, trying for patience. Her temper was threatening her self-control. "I don't
know why you decided to help me out. I thought you did it out of the kindness of your heart. But I was
mistaken; you have no heart. You are a--"

"Bastard?" Dallas supplied helpfully.

Something glittered in those blue eyes again causing Gillian's fingers to curl around the leather strap
of her purse.

"I wasn't going to say that."

Dallas shook his head in disbelief. "Sure you weren't, lady. Look, I may be a bas--" He faltered at
Gillian's glare and began again. "I would be the biggest kind of scoundrel if I left you out in this heat,
trying to change that tire. My mother taught me better."

"You actually have a mother?" Gillian bit her lip and looked away. What in the world was wrong
with her? The man's fuse was short as it was. He didn't need her goading him. He had made it
perfectly clear he didn't like her. And she certainly didn't like him.

Dallas whistled slowly, a soft low trill beneath his breath. She thought he might be trying to control
his own temper. "I wasn't hatched under a rock, you know."

"Could have fooled me," Gillian said in a stage whisper. There, she'd done it again. Her mouth didn't
usually go a mile a minute like this. The man certainly brought out the worst in her.

A full-throated chuckle reverberated through the cab of the truck. "You give as good as you get, don't
you, Mrs. Bankston?"

"Just get me to town, Cowboy, so I can have the tire repaired." Gillian crossed her arms over her
chest, refusing to acknowledge the quivery feeling his laughter evoked.

"Yes'm." He touched his hat and gave her that almost-smile again.

Gillian swallowed a sigh. Thank God, she wouldn't have much contact with Dallas McCade after this.
He was the most exasperating man she'd ever had the misfortune to meet. His temper turned hot and
cold in the space of seconds. He turned her hot and cold just as quickly.

She had only been in his company for ten minutes and she felt confused and rattled. And more alive
than she'd felt in years. All her senses were on the alert. Too alert, for her peace of mind. The
sooner they got to town, the sooner they could part ways, and the sooner she could put him from her

mind for good.

****

Dallas slowed the truck as they passed the city limits sign of Salt Fork. For the past few minutes
Gillian hadn't spoken a word. He ruthlessly denied that he missed her sass. He had no use for
impudent women. For that matter, he had no use for women in general. Except in bed.

The quick tug in his groin almost made him groan aloud. Clutching the steering wheel tighter, Dallas
shot a look at the woman sitting across from him. Her face was partially averted, but the smoothness
of her cheek tempted his touch, the silkiness of her dark hair begged to be stroked.

"Damn it," he said as he pulled into Kincaid's Garage.

Gillian turned, her liquid brown eyes questioning his sudden outburst. "What's wrong?"

Dallas cut the motor. "Nothing," he said, gritting his teeth. He fought for control of his body. It was a
close call, but he finally managed it. "Sam will be happy to fix your tire. I'll go find him." He climbed
out of the truck and headed for the office beside the garage. He heard Gillian scrambling to catch up
with him.

"Look, Cowboy," she said breathlessly, as she reached his side. "You've done enough. I can take it
from here."

She hurried ahead and pushed open the glass door. Dallas followed closely behind. A small bell
danced with the motion of the door, causing the man at the file cabinet to look up from his work.

"Good morning," Gillian said, stepping forward with her hand outstretched. "I'm Gillian Bankston and
I have a tire that needs repair."

Sam Garza pushed the file drawer closed before walking over to shake her hand. His dark eyes held
an appreciative look as he smiled at her greeting. "Well, Gillian Bankston, you've certainly come to
the right place. Sam Garza at your service."

"Thank you. I know it will be a pleasure doing business with you." Gillian shot Dallas a haughty look
over her shoulder.

"What can I do for you, Dallas?" Sam asked. "Are you with this charming lady?"

Dallas cursed womankind and their slippery conniving ways. It hadn't taken Gillian three seconds
before she had Garza eating out of her hand. No way was he going to fall under her spell.

"I brought her, if that's what you mean. The tire's in the back of the truck. How long will it take to fix
it?"

"Not long," Sam said. "Lucky for you, it's a slow day." He winked at Gillian, then stepped around the
desk and out the door toward the truck.

Dallas glared at the woman. "I guess you'll want me to wait around and take you back to your car?"

"I wouldn't dream of putting you to any more trouble. You've done so much for me already, Cowboy."
She smiled at him and raised her chin.

Dallas knew she was being sarcastic, but the low timbre of her voice beckoned him against his will.

Taking a step forward, he closed the distance between them. He towered above her, looking down
into the velvety depths of her brown eyes.

Gillian's breath hitched and her eyes widened. He saw fear, but there was something else, too.

That something else flickering in Gillian's eyes intrigued him. He wasn't the only one affected by their
closeness. The lady put on a good show of resistance, but he wondered . . . Hell, he shouldn't be
wondering anything. He knew better than to mess with her kind. Besides, she was married.

Gillian stepped around him toward the phone on the desk. She lifted her chin another notch and
cleared her throat. "I'll call the drilling site. I'm sure someone will be happy to assist me. I tried to
call earlier, but I couldn't get a signal for my cell phone. Good bye, Mr. McCade."

Dallas gave her a long look. She stared right back. Straightening his Stetson, he headed for the door.
"Good bye, Mrs. Bankston." And good riddance. He didn't need her. He didn't want her. She was the
enemy in more ways than one, and he'd better never let himself forget it.

CHAPTER TWO

Gillian grabbed the hard hat from the corner of her desk, then hurried to the drilling platform. There
wasn't much time between shifts, and Harold Johnston wanted to show her something. Something
important.

She had been on the job for two weeks and was no closer to knowing what was holding up the
progress of the drilling than when she had arrived. Going over the daily logs Raymond had
painstakingly kept, Gillian learned there had been more than the usual number of mishaps and
setbacks associated with a project this size.

At first it was small things, like misplaced tools and disconnected wires. Six months ago, someone
had dropped ball bearings down the casing. Drilling had to be stopped while they were removed.
Valuable time was lost to repairs. A month later, old broken drill bits had been thrown down the hole.
Again time was lost. And time was money.

From what she had read, Gillian guessed someone was trying to sabotage the drilling. Dallas McCade
came immediately to mind. His attitude and abruptness toward her clearly indicated his displeasure
about the drilling on his land.

Except the accounts in the logbook pointed to an inside job. Why would someone working for Copper
River Oil want to disrupt the drilling? They were working on a timetable with a definite end in sight.
The lease was due to expire by the end of the year. If no oil was tapped, Copper River would lose
money. Why would an employee want to wreak havoc on the project?

Maybe Dallas McCade had bribed someone. He knew only qualified personnel had access to the

drilling platform. The site was manned twenty-four hours a day. The roughnecks worked two twelve-
hour shifts. There was no way an outsider could sneak near enough to do damage and not get caught.

Gillian stepped out of the air-conditioned office trailer, placing the hard hat on her head. The sudden
heat made her gasp for breath. Even though it was close to six in the evening, it was still hot. She felt
trickles of sweat forming under the hard hat. She also felt something else.

A familiar tingling sensation pricked the hairs on the back of her neck. Slowly, she turned her head
toward the rocky overhang west of the drilling site. Lifting her hand to shade her eyes, she saw a lone
figure standing on the ridge. The features weren't clear from this distance, yet the black Stetson and
arrogant stance were unmistakable. Dallas McCade.

Gillian lowered her hand and headed toward the platform. Every evening, for the past fourteen days,
the formidable cowboy had stood there on the ridge. Watching. Always in the same spot. Sometimes
with binoculars, sometimes not. But always watching.

Harold Johnston waited on the platform, a frown between his gray brows. He was inspecting a length
of pipe joints ready to go down the hole.

"What's wrong?" Gillian asked, coming to stand beside him, looking at the pipe joints.

"I'm hoping it's nothing," Harold said, taking his handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his damp
forehead. "Looks like it could be trouble. Then again, maybe not." He folded the handkerchief and
placed it back in his pocket.

"This isn't what I wanted to show you," he said. "Let's walk over to the mud tanks. Something mighty
peculiar is going on. Been a tool-pusher, going on twenty-five years now, and I've never seen such
suspicious things happening on one job. Can't make heads nor tails of any of it."

Gillian had to run to catch up with the long-legged supervisor. Harold was in his mid-fifties, with
gray hair, a silver mustache, and blue eyes that held just a suspicion of a twinkle. Those eyes were
deceptive, though; when Harold Johnston barked orders, everyone jumped to obey.

"Do you think someone is deliberately undermining this project?" she asked, voicing her concern for
the first time.

Harold stopped in his tracks and looked down at her. He stroked his mustache, his brows gathering in
a frown again. "It sure looks that way, don't it, Mrs. Bankston?" He continued toward the mud tanks.

"But why?" Gillian asked, running again to keep up.

"Don't know. And when you see what I found this morning--Hell, I don't like this one damned bit."

He slowed his pace when they came to the mud tanks, walking purposefully to the big mud-mixing
hopper. No one was in the immediate vicinity, the men still milling around as the shift change took
place.

Gillian came up beside Harold as he stooped to pick up a bag of barite. He lifted it to the workbench
near the hopper.

"Take a look at this and tell me what you think?" he said, stepping back.

Gillian peered inside the paper bag. It had been ripped open, the string hanging from one end, the top

gaping wide. The powder gleamed brightly even in the shadow of the derrick. Gillian looked closer.
Something about the whiteness appeared odd.

She glanced sideways at Harold. "Surely, it's not--?"

"Go ahead, taste it," he said.

Licking the tip of her index finger, Gillian touched the white powder. Rubbing the substance between
her thumb and finger, the grains quickly dissolved. She hesitated only a second before tasting the
sample.

"Oh, my God," she groaned. "How much of this sugar was poured in the hopper? And how long will it
be before . . .?"

She couldn't finish the sentence. Gillian stared at the bag of sugar, a sick sinking sensation settling in
the pit of her stomach. If sugar was mixed with the mud, it wouldn't gel correctly and could cause
considerable damage. When mud was pumped into the hole, the clay mixture wouldn't be able to form
the wall-cake that lined and stabilized the hole. Without the thin strong lining, the hole would cave in.
It was a dangerous situation.

Harold shook his head. "None of it was poured in. Ben Dawson was on duty and he's one of the best.
You'd think something like this would go undetected, but it didn't. Ben's always on his toes. He
thought the barite looked funny. Too shiny. Barite is a dull whitish gray. He tasted it, just like you did.
Then he started ripping sacks like crazy. He only found nine more with sugar. The bags had been
emptied, filled, and restiched."

Gillian squatted on her haunches and inspected the bags on the ground near the hopper. "Who was
responsible for bringing in this shipment of barite?"

Harold pushed back his hard hat, scratching his forehead. "Well, now, that's what I've been thinking
and figuring all day long. The shipments come once a month, usually during the day shift. I looked up
the records to see who was working that day. I've narrowed it down to two, possibly three, men."

Gillian couldn't believe this was happening. Looking closely at the bags of sugar, she could see where
they'd been resewn with a fine black thread. The untampered bags of barite were sewn with coarse
black twine.

"Who?" she asked.

"Jed Carmichael and Tom Raney worked the mud tanks that day."

Something in his voice caused Gillian to glance up at him. Slowly, she stood. "You don't think it was
either of them, do you? Who's the third man?"

Harold stroked his mustache. "Allen Dunbar."

"Allen?" Gillian frowned. He was the last person she would have suspected. He was a middle-aged
man with quiet manners and a shy reserve.

Gillian looked around. The evening shift was moving in. "Let's go back to my office. We can't talk
here."

They walked in silence, breaking it only to call greetings to some of the roughnecks and derrick hands

starting the new shift.

Before she opened the door to the office trailer, Gillian glanced toward the rocky crag. There was no
sign of Dallas McCade. Pushing the rancher from her mind, she opened the door and walked in. The
cool blast from the air-conditioned office offered immediate relief from the hot summer sun.

"So, why do you think it's Allen?" she asked, removing her hard hat and sitting behind her desk.

Harold sat opposite, setting his hat on his lap and running his fingers through his gray hair. A frown
settled deeply between his silver brows. "You asked me if someone was deliberately undermining
this project. I've been here from day one, and from all the evidence and all that's gone wrong, I'd have
to be a fool to think otherwise."

"But why? And why Allen Dunbar?" Gillian tapped the end of her pencil on her desk. None of this
made any sense.

"Well, I'm not saying it's Dunbar for sure," Harold said. "Every man is innocent until proven guilty.
But Dunbar has been on duty, or nearby, every time something's gone wrong."

Gillian stopped tapping her pencil. "That's not enough to prove Allen did anything. There must be
something else. And besides, what possible motive could he have for doing all those things?"

"Money can motivate and tempt most anybody."

"Whose money?" She asked the question even though she knew what his answer would be.

Harold stroked his mustache slowly. "I looked up Dunbar's employment record, as well as the others.
He used to work on the Diamondback Ranch. He was foreman for ten years, before signing on here as
a derrick hand. Mighty coincidental, ain't it?"

"So, you think Dallas McCade is behind all of this?"

"Who else could it be?" he asked. "He's the only one with a motive that I can think of."

Gillian sighed. "I've thought of that possibility, too. Keep an eye on Allen and those other two. So far,
most of the 'accidents' have only caused a couple of days delay in drilling. But this last one could
have cost lives as well as shut down the operation."

Harold nodded. "I'm going to keep watch all right. Ben Dawson will, too. You can bet on that. The
less people who know about this the better. If the guilty party thinks the sugar was added to the mud,
and no one the wiser, he'll probably sit back and wait for the results. We should have a quiet spell for
at least a week or two."

"And then?" Gillian asked.

"Who knows? Time's running short. Won't be long until we know whether we're going to strike oil. It
all depends on how badly someone wants to shut us down."

He stood, settling his hard hat in the crook of his arm. "I'm going to town to grab a bite to eat. Want to
come along?"

"I don't know. They say three's a crowd." Gillian smiled when the older man's cheeks turned red.

"What do you mean by that?" Harold asked, frowning mightily.

"I mean, Sarah Sue's face always lights up when you walk into her cafe." Gillian couldn't help teasing
him.

"Hell, I can't help that, now can I? A man's got to eat. Besides, it's the only place in town," he said,
the twinkle in his eye more pronounced than ever.

"I don't think the food is the only reason you eat there every night," she said.

"Maybe so, maybe no. It's really none of your business, boss lady," he said with a grin.

Gillian grinned back. She enjoyed the friendly give and take between the older man and herself. "I'm
not sure. Maybe I shouldn't tag along."

"Nonsense," he said. "Sarah likes you, too."

"From what I've seen, she's friendly to all of her customers," Gillian said. "Yet somehow her eyes
don't shine as brightly when she's taking my order."

"You coming, or not?" He held the door open, ignoring that last gibe.

She laughed and shook her head. "Go on. I'll catch up in a little bit."

"Better not wait too long. It's Wednesday, and it'll be crowded. Chicken-fried steak night, you know.
I'll save you a seat." The door slammed behind him.

Gillian straightened the papers on her desk, filing some reports, stacking others to be read later in the
week.

She couldn't believe someone was trying to shut down the drilling operation. In her wildest dreams,
she never thought she would be investigating criminal action on a project. It was definitely not in her
job description.

Was Dallas McCade really behind all of it? Gillian closed her eyes and thought about her one
encounter with the cowboy. Her body instantly responded to the image of his muscular body, the
intensity in his eyes when he'd looked at her. She hadn't been near him since that day, but awareness
crept over her every time she saw him standing on the ridge.

Dallas McCade had to be one of the most attractive men she'd ever met. And the most frustrating. He
didn't like her. Was actually antagonistic toward her. And she certainly didn't like him or his attitude,
she reminded herself. But damn, he turned her insides into a quivering mass of jelly. When he had
stepped closer to her at the garage, something suspiciously like desire had glowed in his eyes. An
answering awareness had flickered low in her tummy. That hadn't happened to her in years.

Gillian opened her eyes and took a deep breath, shaking off the dangerous thoughts. She had no
business thinking about Dallas McCade like that. She had given up on men a long time ago. With good
reason.

Glancing around the small office, she decided everything was in order for the night. She grabbed her
purse and keys and headed out the door.

Her stomach grumbled with hunger as she pulled into a parking spot in front of the little cafe. It
looked like a hole in the wall, but the food tasted great. Sarah Sue was a character, Gillian thought
with a smile.

Every table was full, exactly like Harold had predicted. The pleasant buzz of conversation and
laughter filled the place. Gillian quickly scanned the crowded tables and booths trying to locate
Harold.

She turned toward the counter when she heard her name called. Harold waved from a barstool,
indicating the seat next to him at the counter.

"The whole town seems to be here tonight." Gillian sat down and placed her purse near her feet.

"Told you it would be crowded," Harold said. "Not one empty table. If it wasn't for Sarah Sue, this
seat would be taken, too."

"I bet you sweet-talked her into turning away a customer just to save me a seat."

"Darlin', he didn't have to sweet-talk me, though I'd give something to hear him try to do it," said the
tall middle-aged woman, coming from the kitchen. She set a plastic tumbler of water in front of
Gillian and two menus on the countertop.

"And I never turn away customers," she said with a wink, before hurrying to a nearby table to take an
order.

"That's a fact," said the man seated next to Gillian. "Never seen Sarah Sue make a customer wait long.
She'll seat you at a table with strangers if she has to. Though no one's a stranger to her. But that's
Sarah Sue all over."

The man smiled and waved his fork before returning his attention to his dinner.

Gillian held back a bubble of laughter as she stared at Harold in wide-eyed amusement. She couldn't
get used to the friendly, outspoken ways of small-town people. Very much different from what she
was used to in Los Angeles.

"Let me guess what you're going to have," she said to Harold, as she opened her menu.

"I don't even have to look." He pushed the menu away and took a sip of water.

"Ready to order?" asked Sarah Sue, taking the pencil from behind her ear and holding it poised above
the pad of paper. "What'll it be, darlin'?" She spoke to Gillian, but her smile was for Harold.

Gillian folded her menu. "I'll have a salad and some tea, please."

"You need something more filling than that, darlin'," the waitress said. "How about some of the
steak?"

"I'm really not very hungry," Gillian said. Sarah Sue's frown made her reconsider. "Okay, make it a
chef salad and bring a couple of hot rolls. Are you satisfied now?

"It's not much, but it's a start," said Sarah Sue, jotting down the order.

"And what about you?" she asked Harold.

"You know what I want," he said, taking another drink of water.

"I think I know what you want, but you never will come out and say it now, will you, darlin'?" Sarah
Sue stared at him.

He choked on his water.

Gillian saw his cheeks redden slightly, and his eyes glitter brightly. She knew he liked the outspoken
waitress, but he'd never asked her out. This was a very different Harold from the rough, hard-working
man on the drill site.

He was still choking and sputtering. Gillian thumped him on the back and took pity on him.

"He'll have the chicken-fried steak," she said.

Sarah Sue smiled as she wrote the order. "I knew that, darlin'," she said with a wink. "I just wanted to
hear him ask for it."

Gillian felt the undercurrents of the seemingly innocent conversation, and wondered how many others
were aware of the by-play.

The man beside her pushed his plate away and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I'm ready for my
check, Sarah Sue."

"Hold your horses, George," she said. "I've only got two hands." She pinned the order slip on the wire
hanging in the window behind her. Digging in her apron pocket, Sarah Sue found George's ticket and
slapped it on the counter. She picked up his plate and headed for the kitchen.

George counted out his money and laid it on the bill. He grabbed his Stetson and leaned toward
Gillian. "You folks have a nice dinner."

Gillian smiled, then turned to Harold. "Very friendly, wasn't he?"

Harold nodded. "Friendly to you," he teased. Suddenly, his eyes hardened and he stiffened.

"What's wrong?" Gillian asked. At that moment, she felt a muscled thigh brush hers when someone
slid onto the barstool next to her. Turning, she met the surprised look on Dallas McCade's face.

For a split second, he stared at her with such intensity she had to remember to breathe. Almost
immediately, a shuttered look came over him. He stood and looked around for another place to sit.
Every table and booth was full.

The impact of his actions, the deliberate act of rejection, made Gillian's insides reel. How could he
act so rudely? And why in the world could this man affect her so strongly?

Sarah Sue bustled in with a tray of food. She looked at Dallas. "Sit down, darlin'. I'll get to you in a
minute."

Dallas glanced at Gillian and the stool. With an infinitesimal shrug, he sat on the stool, careful not to
touch her again.

Sarah Sue placed Harold's plate on the counter. "Careful, it's hot," she warned. "Not yours, darlin'."
She set a large salad in front of Gillian, along with a basket of hot rolls.

Gillian began eating, all the while conscious of the big rancher beside her. Her body hummed with
awareness caused by the heat radiating from him. She mechanically lifted her fork, going through the
motions of eating, not really tasting the food.

Her ears buzzed. She felt like she was in a tunnel of sorts, the walls closing in. Was she about to

faint? She had never fainted in her life, and she wasn't about to start now. Dallas McCade could go to
hell for all she cared. She refused to let him get the best of her. Taking two deep breaths, she calmly
ate her salad, focusing on the crisp cool crunch of each lettuce leaf.

Sarah Sue tucked the tray under one arm and brought a menu from under the counter, handing it to
Dallas. "Haven't seen you in here for a long while," she said. "Your mama gone out of town? You
usually don't come in for supper, unless Ruth's gone somewhere."

"She and Jessie are in Lubbock," Dallas said, keeping his eyes on the menu. "They took Cameron to
the airport and they're going to do some shopping and spend the night."

"That's right," said Sarah Sue, taking her order pad from her apron pocket. "Cameron's going to
Honolulu for a medical conference, and Jessie's staying at the ranch while he's away. I'd forgotten all
about that. So, what'll you have, darlin'?"

"Make it the special, with mashed potatoes, carrots and broccoli, and a large tea."

"One Wednesday night special, coming right up." She jotted down the order, then rushed off to wait
on another customer.

Gillian, concentrating on her salad, heard every word of the conversation between Dallas and Sarah
Sue. The low rumble of the cowboy's voice reminded her of their time together in his truck. Only
now, the animosity was absent from his tone as he talked to the waitress. The deep baritone flowed
over her, making her want to snuggle against the solid body. Gillian almost choked on a bite of tomato
and her cheeks burned at the thought.

She glanced to her left at Harold. He was busy eating his dinner. Taking another bite of salad, Gillian
looked across the counter. Through the kitchen window, the cook was flipping burgers and preparing
dinner plates. A mirror stretched along the wall near the ceiling. The whole cafe was reflected in the
shining glass, but it was one pair of brilliant blue eyes that snagged her attention. Dallas McCade was
watching her. He held her gaze, and Gillian couldn't look away. She lost herself in the ocean-colored
depths of his stare.

Sarah Sue walked up to the counter and broke the spell. Gillian had the distinct feeling the waitress
had witnessed the byplay. The knowing look in the older woman's eyes made her uneasy.

Sarah Sue smiled at her. "Darlin', this here is Dallas McCade. He owns the Diamondback Ranch."
The waitress ignored Gillian's widened eyes. "Dallas, this is Gillian Bankston. She's working at the
drilling site on your ranch. Make your howdies to one another."

The silence was palpable. Sarah Sue frowned. "Go on, Dallas. Say howdy to the little lady."

"We've already met," Gillian said quickly, before Dallas could say anything, if he would say anything.
She laid her fork down. Eating was impossible. "Could I have my check, please?"

"Why, darlin', you barely touched your food."

"I know. I'm not really hungry." Gillian stood. She positioned her purse strap on her shoulder. Her
fingers clasped the thin strip of leather, testing the weight of the heavy bag. What she really wanted to
do was hit Dallas McCade over the head with it. She was shocked by her violent reaction. Something
about the rancher made her feel things she wasn't used to feeling.

Without looking at Dallas, Gillian made her excuses to Harold, paid her bill, then quickly left the
cafe. At the door, she glanced back. Dallas McCade's eyes glittered strangely, leaving her panting for
breath. Thank goodness, the man didn't like her. If he ever decided he did, she would be in big
trouble. Gillian didn't think she could handle the promised passion banked in the depths of those vivid
blue eyes.

****

Dallas watched Gillian leave. God, she looked good enough to eat. He hadn't seen her up close in
over two weeks. Oh, he'd managed to see her almost everyday. But standing on the ridge, looking
down at the drilling site, catching glimpses of her had only whetted his appetite. He couldn't get
Gillian Bankston out of his mind. And he didn't like it one bit.

Before she arrived, he had been in the habit of going several times a week to look at the drilling site,
inwardly fuming, watching the progress, hoping they would pack up and leave. He had been drawn to
the site against his will, hating to see what they were doing to his land, unable to stay away.

That was nothing compared to the last two weeks, knowing Gillian was working and living on his
land. Going to the ridge had become an obsession. Hell, he barely spared a glance at the progress of
the drilling anymore. All he wanted to see was the slim feminine figure moving about the site, her
black wavy hair flowing beneath the hard hat, sometimes a glimpse of her face turned toward the
ridge.

Dallas shook his head in disgust and quickly ate the steak Sarah Sue placed before him. He was acting
like a moonstruck kid. It was embarrassing, that's what it was. Hadn't his failed marriage taught him
anything? Pushing the plate away, he stood up to leave.

Sarah Sue came back, looked at his empty plate, then looked at him. "Finished already? You want
some dessert or something? Or someone? You sure are in a hurry all of a sudden."

"Don't start with me." He peeled several bills from his wad of cash and stuffed the rest in his pocket.
"And don't get any ideas."

He frowned at Harold, not liking how close the man had sat next to Gillian, even though he knew the
tool-pusher had the hots for Sarah Sue. Sarah Sue, of all people. Everyone in town knew something
was simmering between the oilman and the waitress.

Dallas crammed his hat on his head and turned toward the door, bumping into a woman who had
walked up behind him. He automatically caught her arms, preventing her from being knocked down
from his abrupt movement. He swallowed a curse when he realized it was Nadine Cooley. They had
gone to school together and graduated the same year.

"Hello, Dallas," she said, her baby-like voice breathless and excited. She clasped her hands around
his forearms, stroking her fingers sensuously over his skin.

Dallas quickly disentangled himself and stepped back. Nadine promptly closed the space between
them.

"You're not trying to avoid me, are you?" she said with a pout.

"No, I need to get back to the ranch." He moved away from her. "Here, take my seat. Sarah Sue will
bring you something to eat."

Nadine giggled and sat on the barstool. "It's still warm. Your warmth, Dallas. Thank you so much."
She fluttered her eyelashes at him before picking up a menu.

Jesus! Dallas couldn't leave fast enough. He hurried out the door and made his escape. He didn't want
anything to do with Nadine Cooley. All the Cooleys were crazy. Nadine had been in and out of the
state mental institution any number of times since graduation.

She had always had a crush on him. He had asked her out once, a long time ago, but never repeated
the invitation. He still shuddered when he thought of that disastrous date. She had been all over him,
clinging to him, offering herself. It had been too much, too soon, even for him. He found out quickly
that he felt nothing for Nadine, but she hadn't backed off. The evening ended awkwardly. He had taken
her home as soon as he decently could.

Dallas revved the motor of his truck and pulled out of the cafe's small parking lot. That had happened
over fifteen years ago. Nadine had been in hot pursuit ever since. Even his marriage hadn't caused
Nadine's desire to wane. The woman wasn't playing with a full deck, that was a fact.

Driving down the two-lane highway toward the ranch, Dallas thought of Gillian again. Before long, he
found himself parked on the ridge, overlooking the drilling site. As if he had no will of his own, he
walked to the edge. The sun was beginning to set, but the men were busy working down below. The
drilling never stopped unless there was a problem.

Had Gillian gone to her office to work some more? Or had she gone to her trailer after leaving the
cafe? His loins quickened and his groin grew heavy when he thought of her changing out of her work
clothes and slipping into something more comfortable. He was as crazy as Nadine, panting after
something he could never have. Gillian had made it perfectly clear she didn't like him, maybe even
feared him. He frowned. He didn't want to think of her being afraid of him.

What if they could start over? What if she weren't the company representative on the drilling project?

Hell, there was no getting around that fact. But damn, she was attractive. He wanted her. He couldn't
get her out of his mind. But Gillian was definitely off-limits.

Dallas kicked a rock over the edge of the ridge. What the hell was he doing, lusting after a married
woman? He had better things to do with his time. In four months, if all went well, Gillian Bankston
and Copper River Oil would be out of his life. And good riddance. He didn't need this kind of turmoil
in his life. He just didn't need it.

CHAPTER THREE

Gillian stood in line at the First National Bank in Salt Fork, fidgeting with her checkbook. She found
herself in a near-crisis situation with only herself to blame. Payday was another week away and she

was low on cash.

All morning, she had searched the trailer looking for her ATM card. It was nowhere to be found. She
couldn't find her debit card anywhere either. She must have left them both in her apartment back in
L.A.

She hoped the teller would cash her check because she was seriously short on funds. Eating out
everyday was not a good idea. She wasn't usually so careless with her hard-earned money. Nothing
seemed to be going her way since she had landed this assignment. If they didn't cash her check, she
didn't know what she would do.

Ahead of her in line, a farmer in dirty coveralls concluded his business and stepped away. He tipped
his hat in her direction as he walked past. Gillian placed her check on the marble counter in front of
the teller.

"Good morning," she said to the gray-haired lady, forcing a smile she was far from feeling. "I need to
cash this check. I know it's from out of town, but I have plenty of identification." She rummaged in her
purse searching for her driver's license, trying to look confident. "Here it is. I'm working just outside
of town. And I really need the money."

She held her breath and ignored the two people in the other line blatantly staring at her.

The teller shook her head and pushed the check back toward her. "I'm sorry, but we can't accept out-
of-state checks."

Gillian tried not to panic. "Isn't there some way--?"

She stopped in mid-sentence as a man's hand reached over her shoulder and picked up her check. The
smell of clean soap and raw masculinity assailed her senses. The heat from his body made the tiny
hairs at the nape of her neck tingle. Instinctively, she knew who it was before she glanced up.

Dallas McCade didn't look at her. He focused his attention on the teller behind the shiny bars
separating her from the customers. "Is Carleton in his office, Martha?"

His deep voice sent shivers down Gillian's spine. If he ever decided to be one half as nice to her as
he was to others, Gillian would be in trouble big time.

Martha nodded. "Yes, but I don't see how that makes any difference--"

"Have him okay this check," Dallas said, still avoiding Gillian's eyes. "Tell him I'll vouch for the
lady. We'll wait." He handed the check to the teller.

Martha looked from Dallas to Gillian, then nodded and headed for the bank president's office.

Dallas stood in Gillian's personal space, his silence unnerving. She felt trapped between the marble
counter and the solid masculine body behind her. She tried to turn to face him, wishing he would
move back. He was definitely crowding her.

Once again, the belligerent cowboy had come to her rescue. She didn't like being under another
obligation to him. He didn't look like he enjoyed helping her out either, if the grim line of his mouth
was any indication.

"Thank you." Gillian scooted to the side so she could look at him. "You didn't have to do that."

He held himself stiffly. Was he even going to acknowledge her presence? Finally, he looked at her.
His blue eyes snagged hers and curled her toes with their intensity.

When his gaze fell to her mouth, Gillian's breath hitched in her oxygen-deprived lungs. His eyes
snapped back to hers. "No problem, Mrs. Bankston. I'm not a complete bastard, whatever you may
think."

"I don't think you're a . . ."

"Leave it. We've already been down that road."

Gillian cringed at the roughness of his voice. His angry manner belied his kind act. "Thank you,
again," she said. "I really do appreciate it."

For a fleeting moment, his eyes dropped to her mouth again. Gillian's body reacted with such force,
her knees turned rubbery and she grabbed the edge of the marble counter to steady herself. The
chemistry between them was almost frightening. She'd never experienced anything like it in her life.

"I can help you over here, Dallas," the teller in the next booth called.

Dallas glared at her, touched his hat, then turned and walked to the other window.

Gillian released a pent-up breath and tried to still the pounding in her blood. Dallas McCade stirred
up feelings she had long ago abandoned. Feelings she had decided she would live without. Yet
something about the man accelerated her heart rate. The sexual awareness both terrified and intrigued.

Martha returned to her window. "You're in luck, Mrs. Bankston. Mr. Carleton okayed your check and
said you can bank here anytime you want." The teller smiled as she counted out the money.

Gillian thanked her and tucked the bills in her wallet. She walked to the door with her head down,
busy closing her purse and bumped into someone. Large strong hands caught her and firmly set her
away.

Naturally, it was him.

Dallas McCade frowned at her as he held the door open. Having no other choice, Gillian walked
quickly past him. With a murmured thanks, she hurried to her car.

Since Nick had died, she had avoided all social contact with men. Who needed the hurt and anguish?
She ruthlessly squashed the tendrils of desire still lingering in her body from the close proximity of
the rancher inside the bank.

She had learned to live without sex, thank you very much. She couldn't afford the emotional upheaval
of another relationship. Not that she would ever want a relationship with someone like Dallas
McCade, she assured herself.

Work, her job, her career was enough. Fairy-tale dreams of hearth, home and children were not for
her. It would be better to forget about the tall handsome rancher. He wasn't for her, either.

Gillian headed for the grocery store. She really should start cooking some of her meals. There was a
small efficiency kitchen in her trailer. She enjoyed cooking and just hadn't found the time to organize
things like she usually did on her assignments. She had been too busy trying to get a handle on things
at the drilling site. In addition to the mounds of paper work and management decisions, there were

also the mysterious incidents jeopardizing the operation to consider.

Gillian didn't want to believe Dallas McCade was behind those incidents. She sighed. Why did her
thoughts continually center around that man? Hadn't she decided not to think about him anymore?
Giving herself a mental shake, she grabbed a grocery cart and started down the produce aisle.

****

Dallas jerked open his truck door and climbed in. It made him sick the way his body got hard just
looking at Gillian. He had never dallied with a married woman in his life, and he didn't plan to start
now. He had been on the short end of the stick when his ex-wife cheated on him again and again. He
wouldn't wish that kind of pain and heartache on his worst enemy.

In his rearview mirror, he watched Gillian pull away in her car. Besides being married, she was the
enemy. With her working for Copper River Oil, there wasn't a chance in hell he would ask her out
even if she was available. Keep telling yourself that, McCade.

Hell, for the past couple of weeks, he had been mooning over her. A woman he couldn't have. A
woman he shouldn't want, but did. Ever since he'd met her, he couldn't keep her out of his thoughts.
Her presence was constantly with him. Teasing him. Frustrating him.

And now, he had actually touched her. To prevent Gillian from running headlong into him at the bank,
he had grasped her arms to stop her. For days, he had wondered how she would feel. Now he knew.
Her soft skin was like silk under his work-hardened hands. He had wanted to drag her against his
body, nestle her against him. Run his fingers through her shiny hair. Her scent, an alluring combination
of vanilla and woman, had filled his lungs with want.

Enough was enough. He had work to do. A ranch to run. No woman was worth thinking about night
and day. It was disgusting. That's what it was.

He had one more stop to make before heading back to the ranch. Once there, he could lose himself in
hard physical labor. Banish the tantalizing allure of a certain woman. A woman who was occupying
way too much of his time and thoughts.

Dallas thumped the steering wheel with his palms. It had been a long time since he had been with a
woman. The lady tool-pusher attracted him because she was new to town and his body was hungry.
That sounded logical, except it did nothing to cool his heated blood.

Pulling into the grocery store parking lot, Dallas groaned and thumped the steering wheel again when
he saw the car with the California license plates. Gillian was inside. Well, there wasn't anything to do
but go on in. This was the only grocery store in town and his mother needed flour. He would run in
and run out. Maybe he wouldn't see her.

Yeah, right. As soon as he walked in the door, his eyes honed in on her. She stood at the meat counter,
talking to Frank, the butcher. Something he said made her laugh. She put the packages of meat in her
cart and continued down the aisle, a smile still playing across her lips. When she spotted Dallas, her
smile faded away.

Dallas had the feeling Gillian wanted to turn around and run in the opposite direction. After a startled
second, she lifted her chin and pushed the cart forward. He walked toward her, intent on picking up
the flour and getting the hell out of there.

She stopped in front of the baking supplies. In front of the damn flour. She seemed intent on studying
the cake mixes and ignoring him.

Dallas waited about ten seconds. "Excuse me," he growled, reaching past her for a sack of flour on
the shelf.

"Certainly." She stepped backwards, right into the curve of his outstretched arm.

Well, one of his wishes had been granted. He didn't have to wonder anymore how she would feel in
his arms. Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything about it in the middle of the store, holding a five-
pound bag of flour. Or, maybe it was fortunate. Her body trembled slightly before she jerked away.

Quickly, she chose a cake mix, tossed it in her basket and whisked down the aisle, turning the corner
out of sight.

Dallas shook his head, willing his body to calm down. Why had his life become so complicated all of
a sudden?

****

Sunday turned out to be a scorcher. Gillian had the day off and decided to go to the small city pool
she had noticed when shopping in town. Pulling on a neon-yellow swimsuit, she shrugged into a short
terry robe to cover the one-piece and gathered her stuff in a large straw bag. She checked to make
sure she had everything. Sunblock, sunglasses, novel, towel. All there. Packing a small ice chest with
diet sodas and some grapes, she was ready to go.

Working on drilling sites around the country, Gillian often found herself at loose ends on her days off.
Early on, she decided to overcome any shyness she may have felt and enjoy whatever the towns had to
offer. Going to the movies by herself, eating at cafes and restaurants alone, even going swimming at
the local pools had become second nature to her.

Thank goodness, she enjoyed her own company. This was the life she had chosen. It was a good life.
She refused to feel sorry for herself, when on occasion, she felt lonely. Nothing in life was perfect
and being alone didn't bother her much.

The image of a tall dark cowboy suddenly invaded her thoughts. Dallas had been dominating her mind
a lot lately. Making her aware of her loneliness. Making her yearn. For what, she didn't know. The
man confused and tantalized at the same time. Made her feel edgy and restless.

Gillian sighed. She would just have to get over it. Ignore the feelings. Ignore him. She didn't want a
relationship with Dallas or anyone. She was better off alone. Safer.

At the pool, Gillian settled in a corner by the fence away from the crowd. Spreading her towel, she
removed her robe and liberally applied sun block. Picking up her paperback, she lay down and
relaxed. Later, when the sun became too hot, she would take a dip in the inviting blue water.

Soon, she lost herself in the intrigues of the romance novel, barely conscious of the background noise
of children splashing, shouting and laughing.

The story was well written, a real page-turner. Passion and love, heated kisses and tangled sheets.
Gillian felt her body responding. Unbidden mind-pictures of Dallas McCade looming over her, his
eyes full of sexual promise made her body quiver all over.

Gillian snapped the book closed. Damn, it was hot. Definitely time to cool off in the pool.

Stepping into the shimmering water, she eased into the chilly depths. The water felt good on her
heated skin. She looked around, trying to get her mind off the book, trying not to think of the sexy
rancher or the heat rushing in her veins. She smiled at some of the young mothers sitting on a bench,
watching their children in the pool.

Several kids were playing a game, diving under the water, retrieving brightly colored rings. The
childish laughter, the sheer joy in their faces made Gillian wish one or two of them were her own.
She would have liked to have a couple of kids.

Shrugging off the fantasy, she dove under the water. She swam hard and fast, slipping through the
sparkling depths, covering as much ground as her lungs would allow before coming up for air.

She made for the edge of the deep end, then turned and swam on her back the entire length of the pool.
Three more times, she dove under and went as far and as fast as she could. Her lungs ached before
she allowed herself to break the surface. After the last lap, she dipped her head back into the water,
sleeking her hair out of her face. Treading water for a few minutes to catch her breath, she leisurely
swam back to her side of the pool.

The vigorous exercise had chased away her demons. She had definitely needed that. Her body was
deliciously tired. Troubling thoughts of men, relationships and kids were miraculously held at bay, at
least for a little while.

Stepping out of the water, she turned toward her towel only to find herself face to face with one of her
demons. Dallas McCade blocked her way. What was he doing here?

For a frozen second, she watched his eyes skim the length of her body. She felt her nipples pucker in
response, a languorous heaviness settle low in her stomach.

Quickly, Gillian sidestepped around him and hurried to her corner. The admiration in his potent blue
eyes made her shiver all over. She grabbed her robe, gathered her things and made her escape, calling
herself a coward a million times over. Knowing she shouldn't let the man dictate her actions or
reactions. She had never met a man quite like him in all of her twenty-eight years of life. One who
could turn her insides to slush, make her feel hot and cold at the same time.

She reminded herself she didn't want a man. Didn't need a man in her life. The tingling awareness in
every nerve ending in her body told her she was lying.

****

Dallas stood frozen in his tracks, unable to shake the erotic image of Gillian rising out of the
swimming pool like a sea nymph, water sliding down her glistening body, dripping at her feet. His
eyes had devoured her and he'd inspected every luscious curve of her figure. The beaded nipples
beneath her yellow swimsuit and the bright red toenails had screamed sex.

In a flash, she'd dodged around him and was gone. He'd fought a gut-wrenching urge to grab her and
crush her against him. He forced himself not to turn and watch her leave.

Swallowing a hard lump in his throat, Dallas walked toward the pool. He'd come to pick up his niece,
Kelsey. Austin had asked him for the favor and naturally he'd agreed. His brother was raising his

daughter alone. Doing a damn fine job, too. But once in a while, he needed help. So, that was why he
was here, at the swimming pool of all places, running into the one woman he was trying to exorcise
from his mind.

"Uncle Dallas! Uncle Dallas!"

All thoughts and images of tempting sea nymphs were ruthlessly set aside. Dallas smiled at his niece
as she raced toward him.

The lifeguard blew his whistle at her for running, and Dallas shook a finger at her. "Whoa! Slow
down, hotshot. You could slip and hurt yourself. You ready to go? You have all your stuff?"

Kelsey nodded. "Can we get a snow cone on the way home? Please?"

"Sure thing. Let's go." He patted her wet head and pulled the towel tighter around her shoulders.

The little girl skipped beside him on the way to the truck, chatting all the while, trying to decide what
flavor of snow cone to choose. Dallas opened the door and she hopped into the front seat.

The hot July sun beat down mercilessly. Dallas felt the sweat on his forehead beneath his Stetson. A
snow cone would be just the thing to cool him off; maybe it would cool his fevered blood and heated
body, though he seriously doubted that. He'd been taking a lot of cold showers lately, and they hadn't
done much good cooling him off, or easing his tension, or making him forget. Nothing seemed to help
get Gillian Bankston out of his mind. It was pitiful, that's what it was. Downright pitiful.

****

Two days later, Dallas sat at the old oak table in the kitchen reading the newspaper, while his mother
bustled about preparing breakfast. His sister-in-law, Jessie, sat across from him eating a cracker and
looking squeamish. Ruth McCade set a cup of hot tea in front of her daughter-in-law, then hurried
back to the stove to pour pancake batter onto the hot griddle.

"I thought women got over morning sickness after three or four months," Dallas said, picking up the
sports section of The Fort Worth Star-Telegram.

Jessie grimaced as she swallowed a corner of cracker. After taking a tentative sip of tea, she leaned
back and breathed deeply. "Not all women. It seems I'm one of the rare ones who get to be sick during
the entire pregnancy."

"Lucky you," he grunted.

"Yeah, lucky me. Only seven more weeks to go, thank God." She closed her eyes.

"You sure you're all right?" He didn't like the paleness in her cheeks.

Jessie opened one eye and looked at him. "Gee, Dallas, your concern is touching. I didn't think you
cared."

"Hell, you're my brother's wife. I care." He buried his nose in his paper.

Jessie closed her eye again and sighed. "Could have fooled me. You've never forgiven me for leasing
the mineral rights to Copper River Oil Company, and you huff and puff around me like you hate me."

"He doesn't hate you," Ruth said, setting a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of Dallas. "You know

how he is. He can't help it if he's gruff."

Dallas mumbled his thanks, then smeared butter on the pancakes and poured warm syrup on top. He
took a bite, then looked at Jessie. She stared at his plate, then turned an interesting shade of green. He
shook his head as she dashed from the room with a napkin pressed to her lips.

Ruth sat down next to him with her own breakfast.

"You think she'll be okay?" Dallas asked. "Maybe you should go check on her."

Ruth shook her head. "I tried to help her yesterday, but she doesn't want anyone near when she's
feeling sick. She'll be back directly."

Dallas shrugged and continued with his breakfast. As he wiped the last bit of pancake in the syrup on
his plate, Jessie walked back into the kitchen.

"Feeling better?" Ruth asked, patting Jessie's hand.

"Yes. I'll be fine in a little while. Thankfully, the sickness doesn't last all day." Jessie swallowed
some of her tea and took another bite of cracker.

"Maybe you should have stayed at your house while Cameron's at the medical conference and
presenting that paper," Dallas said, frowning at her and his mother.

Jessie shook her head. "I know it's silly, but I didn't want to be alone with Cameron gone."

Dallas wiped his mouth and pushed back his chair. "You wouldn't really be alone. The ranch is only
twenty minutes from town. I sure hope that baby doesn't come early."

"Why would you even think that? My pregnancy is progressing normally, all except for this stupid
morning sickness." She took another sip of tea. "Speaking of town. I need to go into Salt Fork to
discuss some things with Sam about the garage."

Ruth gathered the plates and headed for the sink. "Whatever do you need to discuss with Sam? He's
perfectly capable of running the garage while you take some time off from work."

She hesitated for a second. "I want to see how things are going, and . . . I have some other business to
take care of, too." Jessie kept her eyes on her teacup.

Dallas wondered what she was up to. Was she hiding something? She'd been absolutely right when
she'd said he hadn't forgiven her for leasing those oil rights.

"What kind of business?" Ruth asked, wiping crumbs from the table.

Jessie flushed red. "I didn't want to upset either of you. I have an appointment with a Mrs. Gillian
Bankston down at the drilling site. She has some papers for me to sign."

"Oh, dear," Ruth said, sitting down again.

Dallas stood suddenly, almost knocking his chair over. "I think I'll go with you to the drilling site. I
don't want you 'accidently' renewing that damned lease or anything like that. What time is the
appointment?"

Jessie's eyes widened. "After lunch, but there's no need for you to go. I won't be renewing the lease.
I'm well aware of the grief I've caused with those mineral rights."

Dallas shoved his chair under the table. "You don't have a clue about the grief you caused. I'm not
taking any chances. I'll go with you." He grabbed his hat from the coat rack near the back door and
slammed out of the room.

He didn't stop until he reached the corral. Giving a shrill whistle, he waited at the gate until his
favorite mount trotted up. Leading Black Star to the barn, Dallas threw a saddle on him, then took off
for the east pasture. There were several calves he needed to check on.

He knew he'd been abrupt with Jessie, but he couldn't help it. He hated having Copper River Oil on
his land and he didn't trust his sister-in-law, especially after she'd promised not to lease those rights
and then gone back on her word. What if they made her an offer to extend the lease? An extremely
tempting offer? If he went with Jessie, he could make certain she didn't give into temptation. If he
went with her, he would get to see Gillian again.

Dallas jerked on the reins, pulling Black Star up short. Anticipation hummed through his body. It had
been two days since he'd seen Gillian at the pool. During the day, he could usually dismiss her from
his thoughts. But at night, his dreams tormented him with visions of her lithe body gleaming in the sun,
clad only in that skimpy little bathing suit.

What in the world was happening to him? He'd been turned upside down and inside out ever since the
lady had arrived in town. Not in town. She was living and sleeping on his ranch, damn it. And it was
slowly driving him insane. He wanted her so badly, his teeth hurt. But he could never have her. She
was the enemy. She was in charge of the drilling on his land.

Taking a deep breath, he gave his horse the lead again. He would go with Jessie to the drilling site.
He told himself it had nothing to do with his ridiculous desire for Gillian. He was protecting his ranch
and that was all there was to it.

CHAPTER FOUR

After lunch, Dallas drove Jessie to the drilling site. He had never actually set foot on the site,
although he occasionally rode the fence line adjacent to the operation, herding cattle and repairing
barbed wire.

Following the gravel road Copper River Oil had cut through his pasture, he gripped the steering
wheel in tight fists. This was the first time he was actually seeing the damage done to his land up
close and personal. They said they would restore everything when they finished. But it would never
be the same. He popped an antacid in his mouth as he pulled in front of the office trailer. Would the
nightmare never end?

Jessie sighed deeply, looking sad. "I'm so sorry, Dallas. I don't blame you for being angry with me.
I'm angry at myself, except I really had no choice. I couldn't lose my garage. I needed that money." She

looked at him and sniffed, then opened the truck door and climbed out.

What could he say? That everything was all right? Everything wasn't all right. Everything was
screwed up beyond his wildest imagination. And if they struck oil? He couldn't think of that. It would
drive him crazy.

Dallas walked behind Jessie up the steps to the door of the office trailer. He opened it and let her go
in first. His thoughts were focused on the drilling and his land, his stomach burning. Four more
months. He would make damned sure it wasn't any longer.

When he entered the office, a soft gasp halted his dark thoughts. Closing the door, he turned around
and encountered big brown eyes regarding him in surprise. Gillian stood rooted to the spot behind a
large desk. Dallas removed his Stetson and walked forward to stand behind his sister-in-law. An
awkward silence hung in the small confines of the office.

Jessie stepped into the breach. "Mrs. Bankston? I'm Jessie McCade. This is my brother-in-law,
Dallas. He insisted on accompanying me."

Dallas pulled a chair out and barely restrained himself from pushing Jessie down into it. "I've met
Mrs. Bankston," he said, taking the other chair. He ignored the question in Jessie's eyes. Just like he
ignored Gillian's beautiful brown ones, staring at him like he had grown horns or something.

Gillian seemed to pull herself together. She leaned over the desk and extended her hand to Jessie. "It's
nice to meet you, Mrs. McCade. I hope it wasn't an inconvenience for you to come this afternoon."

"No problem," Jessie said. "I'm visiting the ranch while my husband is away on business. I didn't
want to be alone with Cameron gone for so long."

Gillian smiled. "If I were in your condition, I wouldn't want to be alone either." She twisted the
wedding band on her left hand.

Jessie squirmed on the hard chair, trying to find a comfortable position. "How can you stand being
away from your husband for such long periods of time? Does he come to visit you often?"

Dallas watched Gillian's cheeks redden slightly at the personal question. Damn Jessie for her
impertinence. His brother had his hands full with her, that was a fact. But Dallas was glad Jessie had
asked. He was curious about the husband, too.

"I'm a widow," Gillian said quietly. "My husband has been dead a long time."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Jessie. "I didn't mean to pry."

Gillian took a deep breath. She tried to smile, but it was a dismal failure. "That's okay. No problem."

Now Dallas was really curious about the husband. He squashed the treacherous thought that Gillian
was free and available. There could never be anything between them.

Gillian seemed to be uncomfortable, even agitated. She flipped through a stack of papers on her desk,
pulling out two sheets and pushing the others out of the way. Dallas wondered if she missed her
husband? Was that why she still wore the wedding ring? Hell, he didn't have any business thinking
such things. He was here for his ranch.

"I won't keep you long," Gillian said. "I just need your signature on this document and you can be on

your way." She reached over to hand Jessie the paper.

Dallas quickly intercepted it. The brush of their fingers triggered electric sparks between them.
Brown eyes clashed with blue for one brief second, and then Gillian jerked her hand away
relinquishing the document. The lady was as aware of him as he was of her, Dallas was certain of it
in that moment.

"Jessie's not signing anything," he said harshly, disgusted with himself for allowing his desires to
interfere with his purpose for being there. "Not until we consult our lawyer."

"Dallas, don't be mean," Jessie whispered.

"Mr. McCade, I can assure you that everything is in legal order," Gillian said. "This is just a simple
addendum to the original contract stating additional provisions of the lease."

"I don't care if it's the Clearing House Sweepstakes," Dallas said. "She's not signing anything today.
We'll take it to town and have our lawyer look it over, then get back to you. Come on, Jessie."

Jessie struggled to her feet. "Of all the high-handed, idiotic-- This has nothing to do with you."

"It has everything to do with me. Copper River Oil is drilling on my land, in case you've forgotten."
Dallas thrust the truck keys at her, keeping his eyes on Gillian's face. The woman looked like she'd
been slapped. "Go start the truck and turn on the air-conditioner. I'll be out in a minute."

Jessie looked from him to Gillian. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bankston. This drilling is a real sore spot with
Dallas. I apologize for his rudeness. I'm sure it has nothing to with you."

"It was nice meeting you," Gillian said. "I hope I'll be seeing you soon. And believe me, everything in
that document is straight forward. There are no hidden clauses or anything of that nature." She lifted
her chin at Dallas, as if daring him to comment.

Dallas ushered his sister-in-law outside, deliberately closed the door behind her and walked back to
the desk. Placing his fists on the scarred wooden top, he leaned forward. Gillian stood with her back
against the file cabinets, watching him. Her soft scent, that hint of vanilla, assaulted his senses. His
anger about the drilling mixed with anger about his attraction to this woman standing in front of him.

"I know this is only a job to you," Dallas said softly, trying to control his temper. "But to me, it's much
more. I would do anything in my power to get Copper River Oil off my land. Anything. You got that
straight, lady?"

Something flared in the brown eyes. Dallas saw the glimmer of outrage in the velvety depths. He
wished he could see Gillian's eyes darken with passion. His body tensed when she leaned her fists on
the opposite side of the desk and faced him almost nose to nose. The lady wasn't a coward. Didn't
back down, he had to give her that.

"I understand perfectly. And if you're trying to intimidate or threaten me--I'd think better of it, if I
were you."

Dallas suddenly became aware of just how close Gillian was to him. Creamy white skin stretched
across delicate cheekbones, dusted with the barest hint of pink. Dark, lush lashes framed her
chocolate-colored eyes. Now that he was this near, he noticed golden specks surrounding the pupils,
highlighting the richness of her eyes. Her lips were full and inviting, even if her words were not.

For weeks, he had been tormented by this woman. He had touched her at the bank, feeling her warm
skin beneath his own. He had seen her feminine curves in all their glory at the swimming pool. Now
he wanted to taste her. He needed to taste her.

"I don't want to intimidate or threaten you," Dallas said, glancing from her eyes to her mouth. He
almost came unglued when her breath caught and she quickly moistened her lips with the tip of her
pink tongue. "And I've just thought of something much better." He moved forward and captured her
mouth in a kiss.

Gillian froze as the floor seemed to shift beneath her feet. Dallas's lips were hard and demanding. She
responded with a hunger that surprised her. It had been a long time since she had allowed a man to
touch her.

His tongue rubbed against her lower lip. Gillian found herself opening to him, allowing access. He
tasted minty and male. The slow sensuous melding of their mouths ignited a flame of desire she
thought long extinguished. He angled his mouth to delve more fully into hers. One of his hands came
up and stroked her hair gently away from her face. His thumb tenderly brushed back and forth against
her cheek, keeping time with the thrusting of his tongue.

Gillian felt a curious detachment, as if her body was out of her control. She knew she was attracted to
this man. Knew the attraction was mutual. She gave herself up to the delicious sensations.

Dallas's body burned with passion. Gillian's mouth was warm and responsive. She met his thrusts
willingly, opening to him when he pressed for more. Her hair was silky beneath his calloused hands.
Her skin milky smooth and pliant.

Leaning against the desk, his body grew hard and throbbed against the barrier of his jeans. He wanted
more, had to have more. He reached behind her neck, placing strong fingers at her nape to pull her
closer. Suddenly, he felt her stiffen beneath his touch.

Gillian came down to earth, wrenching away from his grasp and stepping back. Panic warred with
desire.

"I think you should leave now." Her chest heaved as her lungs dragged in oxygen.

Dallas slowly straightened and stood looking at her. He was breathing hard, too.

"I want you," he said, his voice gravelly with repressed passion. "And you want me. Don't deny it."
He picked up his Stetson and placed it on his head, pulling it forward over his brow. "This isn't
finished, lady. Not by a long shot."

"Yes, it is," Gillian said, glad her voice was steady, because her heart was fluttering madly. "It won't
happen again. I won't allow it to happen again." She forced herself to walk around the desk, keeping a
safe distance from him, and opened the door.

"Good bye, Mr. McCade."

It took every ounce of courage she possessed to wait for him to cross the room and walk out the door.
She had made an oath with herself a long time ago. She would never put herself under a man's power
again.

Closing the door, Gillian sank into one of the chairs in front of her desk. Her legs refused to carry her

any farther. She would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about kissing Dallas McCade. She was
human after all. But her experience with her husband kept super-imposing itself onto the present.

Besides, she didn't even like the tall, dark cowboy. He was rude and insulting. Yet extremely
attractive. Better to keep busy with work and not chance another relationship where she would be
vulnerable, both emotionally and physically.

She dealt well with men on a business level. On a personal level, not so well. She had been burned
badly by her marriage. She knew better than to play with fire again.

Gillian looked around when the door opened, releasing a pent-up breath when she realized it was
only Harold.

"You okay?" the foreman asked, coming forward and looking down at her.

"Yeah." She rose to her feet and walked around to her side of the desk. She had to get a grip and
ignore the way Dallas McCade affected her.

Harold sank into the chair Gillian vacated. "I saw McCade talking to Dunbar."

"He was talking to Allen?" She couldn't help remembering Dallas's veiled threat.

Harold nodded. "Don't like the enemy so close. Don't like him plotting right under our noses."

"We don't know for certain that it's him," Gillian said. "Talking to Allen doesn't prove anything. We
already know Allen worked for him. Maybe they're friends." Why was she defending the man? It
couldn't be the memory of warm lips brushing her own, could it?

"Anything out of the ordinary happening out there lately?" she asked, ignoring Harold's uplifted
eyebrows. At least, he wasn't asking any questions. Questions she couldn't answer.

Harold rubbed his forefinger and thumb over his mustache. "It's been over a week since we
discovered the sugar near the mud tanks. Whoever's doing this will have figured out by now that
particular ploy was discovered. Something should happen soon, if I don't miss my guess."

"But when and where?" Gillian asked.

"If we knew that, it wouldn't be a problem, now would it? Don't worry, we'll catch the culprit."

Gillian nodded. "I know we will, Harold. Thanks."

After he left, she tried to concentrate on the never-ending pile of paperwork on her desk. But Dallas
McCade's image kept intruding. His stern face, warm lips, his questionable involvement with
sabotaging the project--all these thoughts jumbled around in her brain.

Gillian jumped up, grabbed her hard hat and headed out into the heat. The paperwork could wait. She
had to get out of the office. Away from the memory of Dallas's disturbing presence. Away from the
memory of that kiss.

****

The lawyer okayed the papers Jessie needed to sign. Nothing out of the ordinary. No hidden clauses.
Exactly like Gillian had said. Dallas wasn't really surprised.

He let Jessie return the papers to the drilling site alone. He didn't want to see Gillian again. After

tasting her, he was damn near going crazy with wanting her. For the zillionth time, he reminded
himself Gillian was off limits. He shouldn't want her. But he did. No getting around that fact.

Hell, he was horny. That's all this amounted to. He hadn't been with a woman in quite a while. He
should go to Billie G's, the honky-tonk up on the Cap Rock, and take up with one of the regulars. Have
a few beers, go to her place, and work off his frustrations. Those women knew the rules. No strings,
just good clean sex.

That's what he usually did. So, what was he waiting for? It had been ten days since he'd gone with
Jessie to the drilling site. Since he'd seen Gillian. The thought of her lips yielding beneath his made
him grind his teeth. He hadn't been this worked up about a woman in years. Not since his college days
when he had been hot-to-trot after Marilyn. And look what had happened then. Misery, pure and
simple. He'd do better to remember that. He made up his mind to go to Billie G's soon. Very soon.

Dallas climbed in his truck and slammed the door. He turned the key and gunned the motor. Tyler was
due to arrive soon. Since his brother had left his truck at the big house, Dallas had agreed to pick him
up at the landing strip located on the far southeastern side of the ranch.

For the last month, Tyler had been flying in air shows across the Midwest. Crop dusting season was
right around the corner, so it was time for him to come home. Tyler owned a lucrative business,
combining his love for flying with his love of the land. Spraying crops was right up Tyler's alley.
Lone Star Wings provided a good living for him and freed up time to fly in the air shows.

Dallas parked near one of the hangers that housed Tyler's planes. A small efficiency apartment had
been built inside the largest hanger. Tyler divided his time on the ranch between the big house and the
apartment. Whenever he entertained women friends, the apartment came in handy. Dallas had used it a
couple of times himself.

He glanced at his watch, then scanned the northern skies, searching for his brother's plane. Sure
enough, a dark speck was headed this way.

Maybe he would ask Tyler to go to Billie G's with him. His brother was always ready for a good
time. They could invite Austin, too. Between overseeing the agricultural operation of the ranch and
raising Kelsey, Austin didn't get out much. Yeah, they would take him with them.

It would be good to get out and have a few beers. Hell, even if he didn't get lucky, at least it would
take his mind off Gillian for a few hours.

Tyler landed his plane after performing an elaborate aerial display. Dallas grinned at his youngest
brother's antics and walked out to meet him. The black asphalt of the strip radiated heat from the
afternoon sun.

Tyler jumped down from the cockpit and threw a brown duffel bag at his brother. "Good to see you.
Thanks for picking me up."

Dallas threw the duffel back at him. "I don't mind playing chauffeur, but I'll be damned if I'll play the
lackey."

Laughing, Tyler caught the bag and slapped his brother's shoulder. "Aw, Dallas, you're no fun. What's
been happening since I've been gone? Ma doing okay?"

"She's fine. She's happy fussing over Jessie and dreaming about the new baby."

Tyler tossed his bag in the back of the truck and climbed in. "How's the drilling going? No oil yet,
huh?"

Dallas started the engine and headed toward the house. "Not yet. They replaced the company
representative."

"Yeah, Ma told me. With a woman. A single woman. Have you seen her? Is she a looker?" Tyler
waggled his eyebrows at his brother.

Dallas gripped the steering wheel with tight fists. "Stay away from her, Ty." He didn't want his
footloose, fancy-free brother anywhere near Gillian. Tyler had a reputation with the ladies. Dallas
assured himself he wasn't jealous. Gillian wasn't Tyler's type, that was all.

"What's the matter?" Tyler asked. "You got dibs on the lady or what?"

"Yes . . . no . . . hell, I don't know. Just stay away from her." Dallas frowned at the road ahead of him.

Tyler whistled under his breath. "Well, this is something new. Now, I have to see the lady, if she's
made you look twice."

Dallas let out a deep breath, trying for patience. "You can look. Just don't touch."

Tyler grabbed his chest in a theatrical gesture. "That's a low blow, brother. You know I wouldn't
mooch on your territory."

Dallas shook his head and grinned. "Shut up, will you? Let's go see Austin before going to the house.
He's working on the south farm, spraying the cotton. We'll pick him up and take him with us. Mom's
frying chicken for supper. And I was thinking about going to Billie G's tonight. You up to it?"

"Sounds like a winner to me," Tyler said. "I'm always ready for a beer and the company of pretty
women."

"Good. I thought Austin could go too."

"You think he'll want to come along?" Tyler looked skeptical.

"He may put up a fight. And he might not want to leave Kelsey. But Mom will watch her. We'll make
him go."

Tyler chucked his brother's shoulder, then rubbed his hands together. "All right, then! Look out Billie
G's, here come the McCades."

****

Later that evening, Dallas leaned against the bar at Billie G's after ordering two beers. He watched
Tyler two-stepping around the dance floor with a buxom little redhead. His brother had lost no time in
picking out the prettiest woman in the place and making a move on her. From the way she was smiling
and laughing, Dallas figured Tyler wouldn't be spending tonight at the big ranch house.

Austin, on the other hand, sat in a corner booth, brooding over his empty bottle of beer, oblivious to
the winks and nods some of the women were sending his way. It had taken a lot of persuasion before
Austin had agreed to come along.

Dallas paid for the beers, grabbed the two longnecks and carefully made his way back to the table.

"Drink up," he said to his brother when he reached the back booth. "There's more where these came
from."

"Thanks," Austin said. "But this is my last one. Kelsey has a soccer tournament tomorrow and I don't
want a hangover."

"Not a good mixture," Dallas agreed, taking a generous swallow of the cold beer.

"What's up with you? Drowning your sorrows?" Austin motioned at the empty longneck bottles lined
up across the table.

"Something like that." Dallas glanced around the room, trying to find someone to dance with. He had
come to Billie G's to have a good time, damn it. To get his mind off Gillian. Not sit around and get
drunk. He searched the smoke-filled honky-tonk, but no one caught his eye.

The music stopped and Tyler and his dance partner returned to the table. He plopped down beside
Dallas, dragging the redhead onto his lap. She laughed and squirmed, then hopped up.

"I'm going to the little girl's room," she said. "Order me a beer, will you, hon?" She blew a kiss his
way.

"Sure thing. Hurry back." Tyler smiled, then looked at his brothers. "What's the matter with you two?
You look like a couple of bumps on a log. Have you forgotten how to have fun? Find a girl. Dance.
Enjoy yourselves." He shook his head in disgust as he walked toward the bar.

Dallas glanced at Austin. "He needs the crap beaten out of him."

Austin grinned. "Yeah. Now that would be fun and enjoyable."

Dallas shrugged. "Ma wouldn't like it much."

"No, she wouldn't like it at all." Austin took a swig of beer.

"You think we're too old to have fun?" Dallas asked.

Austin considered the matter and shook his head. "I'd say we're more particular in our tastes than
Tyler. We've known most of these women our whole lives. We're more choosy. Yeah, that's it." He
paused, then grinned. "Besides, he stole the only newcomer in the place."

"I like your logic." Dallas raised his bottle in a silent toast.

Tyler returned to the table and sat down. "Hey, I thought you were looking for a little action?" he said
to Dallas, elbowing him in the ribs. "Not going to have any luck hiding back here in the corner."

Dallas frowned. "Changed my mind."

"You're still mooning over that new lady rep over at the oil rig, aren't you?"

Sometimes his youngest brother was a real pain. "I'm not mooning over anyone. Leave me alone."

Tyler whistled under his breath. "Look what just walked in the door. If I had to guess, there's your
dream lady now. Wowser. I can see why she has your shorts in a tangle."

Dallas forced himself not to look toward the entrance. Even if it was Gillian, he wasn't going to make
a fool of himself. Especially in front of his brothers.

Tyler's girl came back and sat on his lap. "Did you miss me?" She looped her arms around his neck.

"You betcha. How's about another dance, sweetheart? They're playing our song."

The redhead giggled as Tyler led her to the dance floor. He looked over his shoulder and winked at
his brothers, then motioned toward the bar for Dallas to go after Gillian.

Dallas ignored him, frowning heavily over his longneck.

Austin eyed his brother curiously. "You got the hots for that woman from the rig?"

"Yeah. Pitiful, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said. "Can't remember you being attracted, I mean really attracted to a woman,
since Marilyn. Been a long time." Austin took a sip of beer. "Maybe Tyler's right. Maybe we have
forgotten how to have fun."

"Both of us have had bad luck with women," Dallas said, glancing toward the bar where Gillian sat
with Harold and another man from the rig. "Marilyn left me and Deborah's dead. I'd say that's enough
sorrow for any two men. I don't need that kind of trouble again."

"Me neither. Tyler doesn't know what he's talking about." Austin studied the label on the longneck,
turning the bottle around and around. "But you know something? It wouldn't hurt anything if you asked
her to dance."

Dallas turned to stare at his brother. "You sure you're not drunk? Why would I want to do a fool thing
like that? That's just asking for trouble, big time."

Austin shrugged. "Tyler got me to thinking, that's all. Might be nice to hold a pretty woman in your
arms--one you haven't known for always."

"If you're so moved by Tyler's bull, why don't you ask her to dance yourself?"

"Maybe I will."

"Like hell, you will." First Tyler, now Austin. If any McCade was going to hold and touch Gillian,
Dallas would the one to do it. Not his damned brothers.

Austin grinned as he took a drink of his beer.

Dallas shook his head. "You son of a bitch. You have no more notion to ask her to dance than I don't
know what. You're worse than I am. At least, I've dated since my divorce. You haven't actually gone
out with a woman since Deborah passed away. That's going on twelve years or more."

"Twelve years this August," he said, then shrugged. "It's different for me. Deb was my true love. Go
ask the lady to dance. Don't let Marilyn ruin your life forever."

"I don't know." Dallas glanced toward Gillian again.

"You know you want to. Go for it."

"Damn it," he said. "She works on the drilling site. She's the enemy."

"So what? You're not asking her to marry you. Go dance with her." Austin finished his beer. "I'm
going to shoot some pool." He rose from the booth and walked away.

Dallas looked toward the bar again. He caught Gillian staring at him. She quickly turned to Harold
and said something. The older man nodded and led her to the dance floor.

Dallas cursed under his breath. Draining his beer, he stood abruptly and walked purposefully toward
them.

CHAPTER FIVE

Gillian almost panicked when she saw Dallas McCade sitting in the corner booth with two men and a
redhead. She wanted to turn around and go back to her trailer. But Harold had coerced her into
coming to Billie G's, and it would be rude to abandon him. All she really wanted to do was crawl
into bed and read a good book. But it was Friday night, Harold had said. The week had been long and
hectic. They deserved a little fun. He had insisted.

So here she was. And so was Dallas.

Her eyes had zeroed in on him seconds after entering the honky-tonk. Through the crowded, smoky
room, she saw the rugged cowboy with a scowl on his face as usual. Nevertheless, Gillian's heart
thumped wildly. She hurried Harold and Ben to the bar to order drinks. Maybe Dallas wouldn't see
her. Maybe he would leave soon.

She tried not to look toward the corner booth, yet couldn't help herself. He was like a magnet,
drawing her attention, causing her heart to perform strange gyrations. She was vaguely aware of
Harold and Ben conversing by her side. The other people in the honky-tonk seemed invisible.

The waiter at the bar set an ice-cold bottle of beer in front of her. Gillian wasn't much of a drinker,
but she enjoyed an occasional beer now and then. Now was definitely one of those times. She drank
deeply, letting the cold, biting brew slide down her throat.

She wouldn't think about the man across the room. She didn't want to get involved with him or anyone.
She focused on the fact that he was rude and probably involved in the incidents at the rig. Taking
another swallow of beer, Gillian pushed away the treacherous thoughts of the way his mouth had felt
over hers, how she had responded to his touch that day in her office.

Harold's voice broke through her reverie. She surfaced from her deep reflections. "I'm sorry, what did
you say?"

"I said if you're going to sit there and pout because I practically forced you to come, then I'm sorry.
Sorry I brought you. I thought we could use a break from work. We won't stay long, if you don't want
to."

Gillian breathed deeply. Harold and Ben were her most diligent workers on the site. They deserved a
little rest and relaxation. "I wasn't pouting. I was thinking." Glancing toward Dallas, she caught him

staring at her. Her tummy turned over. Surely, he wouldn't approach her. Single her out. She made a
quick decision.

"I was thinking that I haven't danced in years. Want to give it a try?" She forced a smile.

"Well, I'm not very good--" Harold began.

Gillian stood up. "Please?"

Harold nodded. "Hope I don't crush your toes, that's all."

"Don't worry. It's your toes that are in danger."

The neon-lit jukebox blared out a country-western ballad. Harold awkwardly touched Gillian's waist
and gingerly held her hand as he carefully guided her around the circle of whirling couples.

Gillian kept her eyes glued to Harold's shoulder, concentrating on the steps. Why she had asked him to
dance, she didn't know. She just felt she had to get away from the laser-sharp gaze of Dallas McCade.

"Your cheeks are red as tomatoes," Harold said. "What's wrong?"

Gillian shrugged. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Must be the beer. It sometimes makes me flushed. Oh,
crud." Through the crowd, she could see Dallas making a beeline toward them.

Harold stopped in the middle of the dance floor, concern in his eyes. "What? Did I step on you? I told
you I wasn't any good at this."

"Don't stop!" Gillian pushed at him, tugging at his hand, trying to get him moving again. She looked
over her shoulder after they made a turn. Dallas was still coming, determination and something else,
something dangerous, stamped on his face.

"What's the matter?" Harold looked at her like she had lost her mind.

"Dallas McCade is here--"

"Where?" He glanced around the dance floor.

Gillian's eyes widened as Dallas planted himself in their path. He was going to single her out. And
there was nothing she could do about it.

"Don't worry." Harold tried to maneuver past the tall rancher, but Dallas blocked the attempt.

He tapped Harold's shoulder to cut in.

Harold looked him up and down, then kept on dancing, moving to the opposite side of the floor.

Gillian glanced back. Dallas stiffened, his hands balled into fists. Surely, he wouldn't resort to
violence. Not all men were like her husband, Nick. Her heart skittered when Dallas marched toward
them again.

Instead of tapping Harold's shoulder, he clamped his fingers on Gillian's shoulder, effectively
stopping them.

Dallas caught her eyes in a mesmerizing gaze. "Dance with me." He tightened his hold on her
shoulder, waiting for her reply.

The pressure from his fingers electrified Gillian's whole body. What would it feel like to dance with
him? To be held in those strong, muscled arms? Suddenly, she wanted to find out. They were in a
public place. What could one little dance hurt?

Harold glanced down at her. Gillian knew he didn't trust Dallas. He really believed the rancher was
behind the sabotage attempts at the rig. But she wasn't totally convinced. Dallas McCade had a
reputation as a hard working, honest man. Sarah Sue had told her all about him and his family a few
days ago at the cafe.

Giving into temptation, she stepped away from Harold. "Go back to the bar and talk to Ben. I'll be
fine."

"You sure? Why don't you come with me?" Harold eyed Dallas with contempt and suspicion. "You
don't have to dance, you know."

"You heard the lady," Dallas said. Taking Gillian in his arms, he whisked her away.

Gillian glanced back at Harold, who shook his head as he walked away. Now that she was enclosed
in the steely grip of Dallas's arms, she wasn't sure she'd made the right decision. Tiny shards of fear
trickled down her spine, only to be obliterated by the forceful surge of sexual awareness spreading
throughout her body. What was it about this man that could turn her on like no one else ever had?

They danced in silence, the slow, sultry tune weaving in and around them. The dim light provided a
cocoon of privacy, the other couples merely floated in the background.

Dallas tightened his hold, fitting her closer to his body. Gillian's breasts pressed against the rock-hard
muscles of his chest, her nipples instantly beading at the intimate contact.

She raised her head and caught her breath. The blue eyes burned into hers with potent sexual hunger.
When he dropped his gaze to her lips, Gillian involuntarily wet them with her tongue. An immediate
shudder ran through Dallas's massive frame. The hard ridge behind the zipper of his jeans made her
acutely aware of his intent.

Dallas moved his hand upward, grasping a handful of hair, sliding his fingers through the silken
strands to clutch the nape of her neck. He leaned his forehead against hers, locking eyes, breathing
hard. His warm breath fanned her cheeks, smelling of beer and hot male desire.

Gillian felt his thighs rub against hers with each movement of the dance. The tantalizing brush of
denim against denim emphasized the restricted closeness of their two bodies. She almost moaned
when a powerful urge to feel those thighs bare against hers teased her imagination.

Burying her face in the crook of Dallas's shoulder, Gillian tried to control her breathing. Each time
she inhaled, his musky scent assaulted her senses. Her legs quivered with reaction, barely strong
enough to keep her from falling in a puddle at his feet. Or maybe it was his powerful arms preventing
her from sinking to the floor.

The hand on her neck screamed possession. An absolute right to be there. A long-forgotten, but
familiar sensation pooled in the lower portion of her body. Gillian gulped back a sob. It had been so
long, so damn long, since she'd felt like this.

The music on the jukebox stopped, but the melody continued in the rhythm of Gillian's heartbeat.
Suddenly, Dallas pulled away. She should say something, but words were beyond her. The dance had

been both magical and disturbing. Dallas placed his hands on her shoulders and started to say
something. After a long tense moment, he dropped his arms and shook his head. Turning abruptly, he
left Gillian standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.

She saw him speak briefly to a man near the pool tables. Without looking in her direction, Dallas left
the bar.

Gillian drew in a shaky breath. Blindly, she made her way back to Harold and Ben. It was like it had
been in the cafe. He had rejected her presence then, he had rejected her now. This time it was worse.
Much worse.

She had been foolish to think one little dance couldn't hurt. It hurt all right. It hurt like hell.

****

Dallas woke early the next morning, grabbed a cup of coffee and rode the fence line on the southern
border of the ranch. The throbbing in his head ran counterpoint to the beat of Black Star's hooves.
Thank God, he wasn't in the habit of drinking and carousing. He felt like death warmed over.

Lack of sleep didn't help either. All night long, he had tossed and turned, images of Gillian never far
from his thoughts and dreams.

God, she had felt good in his arms. His body ached with wanting her. Anger and desire warred in his
belly. He was well aware of the trouble a woman caused when she got under a man's skin. He should
know better than to let Gillian affect him the way she did. But he seemed to lose control whenever she
was in his vicinity.

Kissing her had been a mistake. That day in her office, he had wanted to taste her so badly, everything
else seemed unimportant. He could have cared less about the drilling at that moment. When she
yielded to the passion between them, it had been sweet heaven. He couldn't get it out of his mind.

Dancing with Gillian last night had been cataclysmic. Holding her in his arms, feeling her body
pressed against him, responding to his touch--he had almost come undone right then and there. Man,
he wanted her. Wanted to be inside her, wanted to feel her warm moist flesh surround him as he
plunged deep and hard.

Dallas cursed. His frustrated state of arousal was driving him nuts. If he didn't find satisfaction soon,
he would burst at the seams. Implode. And explode. With a groan, he had the sinking suspicion the
only way to find complete satisfaction would be in Gillian's arms. No other woman would do.

Tugging on the reins, Dallas pulled Black Star to a halt. The drilling site was a little ways ahead on
the other side of the fence. Everything looked different from this perspective. Different than when he
stood on the ridge gazing through the binoculars.

Once again, his gut twisted with inner turmoil and helplessness. He hated Copper River Oil. He
hoped to God they wouldn't strike oil. He wanted them off his ranch. Soon and for good.

How could he even think of Gillian and desire her, when she was so closely linked to the drilling and
destruction of his land? Gillian Bankston was Copper River Oil Company. No getting around that fact.
If he pursued her and gave in to his passion, he would betray the Diamondback Ranch and everything
he valued.

But damn, he was attracted to her. No matter. He would have to forget about her. That's all there was
to it.

Kicking lightly on Black Star's flanks, Dallas turned back toward the house. On second thought, he
decided to go by the county road and see if the mail had come. Jumping the fence, he guided his horse
along the graded dirt road. Up above, the blue sky stretched from horizon to horizon, and the sun was
rising fast. Dallas tipped back his Stetson and wiped sweat from his forehead. The temperature was
already in the mid-nineties.

A warm breeze rustled the leaves of the mesquite trees scattered throughout the pasture. Two
cottontail rabbits chased each other, hiding beneath a large stand of cactus. Breathing deeply, Dallas
enjoyed the fresh morning scent of the West Texas countryside. This was his land and he loved it. No
woman was worth making him forget his loyalty to the Diamondback Ranch.

It was still a good half-mile to the mailbox when he spotted a car parked on the opposite side of the
road. Only a couple of other families lived on County Road. No one would be parked out here in the
middle of nowhere.

As Dallas rode closer, he realized it was Gillian's car. Those California license plates stuck out like
a sore thumb. So much about forgetting her and moving on. Whatever she was doing, it was none of
his business. He should just keep going and leave her alone.

Like hell.

Gillian was nowhere in sight. Dallas scanned the surrounding area, but couldn't see any sign of her.

The county road marked the boundary line on the west side of the Diamondback Ranch. The landscape
changed drastically within fifty yards of the road. His neighbor's pasture was very different from his
own. The rough, rocky terrain with deep gullies and ragged ravines contrasted sharply with the low
cliffs and wide valleys on the Diamondback.

Dallas quickly dismounted and tied Black Star's reins to a fence post. He looked inside the car. The
keys were in the ignition and Gillian's purse sat on the seat of the passenger side. There was nothing
to give him any clues.

Where was she? What was she doing? Was she hurt?

He shouted her name, then climbed through the barbed wire fence. Was that her voice in the distance?
Sweat and fear trickled down his back. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong.

"Gillian!" he called again, walking faster. He tried to block all the dangerous scenarios flashing
through his mind. She could be doing something as simple as picking wild flowers. Women got
strange notions into their brains sometimes. Maybe she had twisted her ankle and couldn't move.
Maybe she had stumbled across a rattlesnake.

Jesus Christ. He quickened his pace, though it was rough going over the rocky ground.

"Gillian, answer me." His words echoed against the walls of the canyon. Dallas climbed a jagged
embankment, his boots sliding in the red sandy soil sending a spray of rocks and gravel to the ground
below.

"I'm down here." Gillian's voice sounded faint and muffled.

Dallas hurled himself to the top of the hill barely able to breathe. She must have slipped and fallen
down the other side. Panic washed over him as he thought of her laying helpless and injured.

Standing on the crest of the ravine, he searched the dried creek bottom.The undergrowth was dense
with tumbleweeds and cactus. It would be difficult to find her. He would have to follow the sound of
her voice.

He started to call her name again, but the words died in his throat when he spotted her. Cold fury
replaced the empty hollow of fear in his stomach. That woman would be the death of him yet. She
wasn't hurt at all, oh no. And she certainly didn't need his help.

Far down on the side of the ravine, Gillian sat crouched in a squatting position. She was holding a
camera and taking pictures. Taking goddamned pictures.

Dallas wanted to throttle her. He started the climb downward, making his way to her side. He didn't
know what he'd do when he got there, but it wouldn't be pretty.

"Shhh," she whispered, as he came near. "Look over there, across the way." She motioned toward the
opposite bank.

Dallas stared at her. The conflicting emotions raging inside of him made his belly roil. The relief he
felt knowing she was safe battled with the anger towards her for making him want her so badly.

Gillian glanced up at him. "Do you see them? Aren't they cute?" She quickly focused her camera and
snapped several shots.

Striving for control, Dallas raised his eyes to the other side of the creek bed. Skunks. The woman was
taking pictures of skunks.

That was it. He jerked her to her feet.

Gillian almost dropped her camera. "Hey, watch out!" She reached for the strap, lost her footing and
started to fall forward. Dallas grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against him. Her soft curves
nestled snugly along the length of his body. He immediately grew hard from the intimate pressure to
his groin.

Quickly and before he did something stupid, he turned her around and held her at arms length. That
was a mistake. Gillian's brown eyes dilated with awareness. She held her camera pressed to her
breasts. Her breath came in irregular gasps and he could see her nipples straining through her bra and
the thin white fabric of her shirt.

Gillian wrenched away from his hold. "Aw, you scared them away." She checked her camera for
damage. Two red spots burned in her cheeks. "You scared the baby skunks away."

Dallas wanted to drag her back in his arms. Instead, he kept his hands at his sides. "What the hell are
you doing out here all alone? Are you crazy? This is Cooley land. Didn't you see the No Trespassing
signs? Old man Cooley hates people on his property. He's known to shoot first and ask questions
later."

"I didn't see any signs," she said. "And quit yelling at me. I'm not hurting anything. I wanted to take a
few pictures. That's all." She turned away and started climbing up the embankment.

Dallas was right behind her. "I don't think you understand. Malcolm Cooley is an oddball. A lunatic.
What if he had found you, instead of me?"

Gillian kept on climbing. "The chances of anyone finding me out here are nearly zilch. Besides, if he's
so dangerous, why isn't he locked up?"

"Everyone around here knows to keep off Cooley land. If you want to take pictures, you should stay
on the Diamondback Ranch."

Dallas followed closely behind, his head level with Gillian's lush derriere. He was having a difficult
time ignoring it. If he leaned forward a couple of inches, he could kiss that firm little butt. Images of
what else he could kiss intruded on the conversation.

Gillian stopped in her tracks and spun around. "Hah! You told me in no uncertain terms to keep my
pretty little ass off your property."

Well, hell . Dallas stared at the savage finger poking at his chest. The gesture should have infuriated
him. Instead, it fueled his desire. His body burned for more intimate contact. He caught Gillian to him,
pulling her into his arms. His mouth crushed down on hers as he tasted her sweetness once again.

Gillian clutched his shirt, holding on for support. She swallowed a strangled sob and opened to
Dallas's probing tongue.

Her willing response made his blood pound with need. She fit perfectly against his body, tasted so
good. He could forget his anger and frustration about the drilling when he was kissing her. Nothing
else seemed to matter when he had Gillian in his arms.

Dallas hugged her closer, lifting her slightly to rest against his hard arousal. The exquisite friction
between them brought a bead of sweat to his brow. His body screamed for release. Every nerve
ending throbbed with desire. He wanted to prolong the sweet agony. He wanted the sensuous torture
to continue forever. He wanted to be inside of her. Now.

Gillian was liquid fire in his arms. A smoldering blaze ready to ignite into a blasting inferno. Sexy
little moans erupted from the back of her throat driving Dallas closer to the edge.

They were standing at an angle on the side of the ravine, and the force of their passion made it tricky
to keep their balance. More than anything, Dallas wanted to push Gillian to the ground, strip her naked
and make love to her. With infinite regret, he broke contact with her sweet lips, kissing her nose and
eyes and forehead.

"We have to stop." He forced himself to let go of her and step away. Why was he so strongly attracted
to this woman?

Gillian opened her eyes and drew in a ragged breath. "Yes, we have to stop." Without another word,
she turned and ran the rest of the way up the hill.

Dallas stayed where he was and watched her flee. He wouldn't go after her. Not this time. Except
now that he'd held her in his arms and tasted her sweetness, he didn't think he'd be able to ignore
Gillian Bankston any longer.

****

Gillian sat alone at a booth in Sarah Sue's Cafe, picking at her salad, gazing out the window. The

place was full to overcrowded with the lunch bunch. She could have eaten in her trailer, but she was
tired of her own company and needed to get away from the site. Besides, she liked Sarah Sue.

She took a long sip of iced tea. The heat of the summer reflected off the pavement outside the cafe.
She watched as a big tan truck pulled into a parking place. She groaned inwardly when Dallas
McCade climbed out of the pickup.

For the past week, Gillian had attempted to put the sexy rancher out of her mind. She'd tried not to
relive the kisses they'd exchanged or the disastrous dance they'd shared at Billie G's. She'd tried, but
failed miserably.

Quickly averting her face, she hoped he wouldn't see her; she hoped he'd sit on the other side of the
cafe as far away as possible. She would finish her salad and leave, hopefully avoiding another mind-
jolting encounter with the man.

Gillian almost jumped out of her skin when Sarah Sue walked to her table and touched her shoulder.
She was ready to sink when she saw Dallas standing behind the waitress.

"Darlin', you know my policy of seating customers," said Sarah Sue. "You can see the place is full.
Dallas seems to think you would object to him sitting with you. You wouldn't mind if he sits here,
now would you?"

Gillian glanced up at the rugged face. His crystal blue eyes held a hint of challenge. What did he
expect her to do? Make a scene in front of all these people? Lifting her chin, she forced a beaming
smile. "Of course, I don't mind. I'm almost finished anyway. Mr. McCade can have the table to
himself when I'm done."

Sarah Sue placed a menu and tumbler of water on the table. "There you go, darlin'," she said to
Dallas. "I'll be back for your order in a jiff."

He slid into the seat opposite Gillian. She continued eating as he picked up the menu. When his boot
scraped against her shoe under the table, her fork froze in mid-air. Her head snapped up and she
watched him warily.

"Don't look so scared," he said. "I won't bite." He paused. "At least, not until you want me to."

Gillian sputtered in her iced tea and glared at him. "I don't want you to. Ever."

Dallas raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Don't lie to me or to yourself. You want me. You wanted me
when I kissed you. And you wanted me when we danced."

Gillian swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'd rather we forget all about that, if you don't mind."

"Oh, but I do mind." He took a drink of his water.

Gillian watched his throat work as he downed the whole glass. A fleeting vision of placing kisses up
and down his neck and him doing the same to her made her stomach clench. She was lying. She did
want him, but she could never let him know it.

Setting the glass down, Dallas raised his brows again, locking his eyes on hers. "I don't think you
really want to forget, do you, sweetheart?"

"Don't call me 'sweetheart.' And don't you dare call me 'lady' either," she said.

"What do you want me to call you then?"

"I don't want you to call me anything." She took another bite of salad, angry to see that her hand was
trembling. Damn the man.

"I have to call you something. We seem to bump into one another on a fairly frequent basis."

"Well, that needs to stop, too."

"Tell me truthfully if you really never want to see me again." Dallas frowned at her with squinting
eyes, the skin at the outer corners creasing like leather from his hours in the sun.

Sarah Sue walked back to the table, saving Gillian from having to answer. Thank goodness, because
Gillian wasn't quite sure what she wanted when it came to Dallas McCade.

The waitress smiled as she wrote down the order, and her eyes gleamed with speculation. "You going
to the Founder's Day Jubilee, darlin'?" she asked Gillian. "It's at the fairgrounds and it's always a lot
of fun. Isn't that right, Dallas?"

He nodded. "That's right."

"The Founder's Day Jubilee?" Gillian said. "When is it? I haven't heard anything about it."

"You haven't heard? Why it's next Saturday. You really ought to go," said Sarah Sue. "And bring that
Harold with you. He works way too hard and needs some fun in his life. I'll be there around four near
the kissing booth. I'll be glad to take him off your hands so you can go about your own pleasures."

Gillian smiled. "I'll think about it. Thanks."

"You all are going to be there, aren't you?" Sarah asked Dallas.

"Ma wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I thought so." The waitress winked at Gillian before hurrying away to another customer.

"What was that all about? Why was she smiling like that?" Gillian asked.

Dallas shrugged. "She's matchmaking."

"Yes, she certainly has an eye for Harold, doesn't she?"

"He's not the only one she's trying to make a match for," he said.

Gillian swallowed a bite of salad. "You can't mean she thinks you and I--?" She shook her head in
denial. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Is it so ridiculous?" he said, leaning forward. "There's definitely something going on between us.
You know it. I know it. I want you, Gillian. And you want me. So, where do we go from here? What
are we going to do about it?"

"Nothing. Nada," she said, keeping her eyes on her plate. "We are not going to pursue this any further.
I intend to ignore it. I recommend you do the same." Gillian laid her fork and knife across her salad
plate and prepared to leave.

Dallas leaned even closer and grabbed her wrist. "Don't you think I've tried to ignore it?" he said, his

voice a low growl. "I don't like this any better than you do. You're involved with the drilling on my
land, for Christ's sakes. You know how I feel about that."

Gillian stared at the large hand holding hers in a firm grip. He wasn't hurting her, but had her
effectively caught just the same. She tried to pull away; he tightened his hold.

"Then keep thinking about those feelings," she said. "That should make it easy for you to ignore what's
between us. Besides, you don't even like me."

"I wouldn't say that exactly." His mouth tugged upwards in that half-smile that made her insides melt.

"Well, I don't like you." She quickly extinguished the dreamy feeling in her tummy. Dallas McCade
was not for her. It would be foolish to get involved with him. "Nothing can come from any of this. We
should just ignore it and hope it goes away." She tugged her wrist again. This time he released her.

"It's not going to go away." He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, we don't have to act on it, do we?" She stood up and grabbed her purse. "Good bye, Mr.
McCade."

"The name is Dallas."

She shot him a look before leaving the table, and Dallas watched her walk to the cash register. She
was wearing those khaki shorts again. The ones she'd worn the first time he'd seen her. The ones that
hugged her bottom so well.

Just like that, he was hard for her. Hell, ever since he sat down, he'd been aroused. Would she go to
the fairgrounds on Saturday? He hoped so, because he planned to be there. Waiting. But the waiting
was nearly over. He'd made up his mind. It was time to snatch a little happiness from life.

Gillian was the first woman he had really wanted in a long time. So what if she worked for Copper
River Oil? He couldn't do anything about that. But he could damn sure do something about getting her
into his bed. And like Austin said, he didn't want to marry her or anything like that.

Hell, he didn't want a relationship with Gillian. He just wanted to sleep with her. Get her out of his
system. Nothing more than that. Certainly, it was nothing more than that.

Dallas smiled as Sarah Sue set his lunch on the table before him. It had been years since he had flirted
and made a move on a woman like Gillian. The women at Billie G's didn't count. They weren't in the
same league as Gillian.

Picking up his sandwich, Dallas took a huge bite. Just knowing he had chosen a course of action
helped ease the strain he had been under lately. The idea that he might actually have a chance to sleep
with Gillian made him feel a hundred percent better. Life suddenly looked a whole lot brighter.

CHAPTER SIX

When Gillian returned to her office, Harold was waiting inside. Something was wrong; the foreman
was frowning heavily.

Tossing her purse in the corner, she sat down at her desk. "Okay, what's happened now?" Her head
pounded painfully. She felt a headache coming on. One that had started at the cafe.

"The joints in the pipe casing are locking up." Harold ran his fingers through his graying hair. "I
checked the pipe dope. Someone mixed motor oil with it. A regular five-minute switch is taking
fifteen minutes. Those joints are made every twenty-five feet, so you know what that means. This will
shut us down for days."

Gillian massaged her temples with her fingertips. "Damn. Anybody have any idea who did it?"

"No. Whoever's doing this is sneaky as a thief in the night."

"You still think it's Dallas, don't you?"

Harold leaned forward. "So, it's Dallas now, is it? Not Dallas McCade or Mr. McCade ? That
bastard's not acting sweet on you to get closer to the rig, is he?"

Gillian shook her head and immediately wished she hadn't. "The man doesn't even like me, Harold.
And he's not acting sweet on me." Lust and desire didn't count as sweet, did it?

"A man doesn't have to like a woman to want her."

"Look, I appreciate what you're saying, but I really don't want to discuss my personal life." She
smiled to soften her bluntness, then looked at him mischievously. "We could talk about your personal
life though. I have a message from Sarah Sue."

Harold arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"She wants you to come to the Founder's Day Jubilee next Saturday."

Harold placed his hands behind his head and leaned his chair back. "She does, does she?"

Gillian thought he looked too much like a satisfied tomcat. She smiled. "Uh-huh. Says she'll meet you
around four at the kissing booth."

The legs of the chair thumped on the floor. "The kissing booth?"

Now he looked like a scared rabbit. Gillian wanted to giggle, but didn't. "Don't worry. She won't be
in the kissing booth. At least, I don't think she will."

Harold stood up quickly. "I won't be able to make it. Got to work Saturday."

"You're off and so am I. It might be interesting to mix with the locals and have some fun. You know
what they say about all work and no play." Was she really trying to convince Harold to go . . . or
herself?

Harold looked at her closely. "You want to go, don't you?"

Gillian felt her cheeks turning red. "Yes, but I don't want to go alone."

"What a mismatched pair we'll be," said Harold.

"We won't be pair. Not really. Sarah Sue will be there waiting for you. She likes you. And I don't
think you're immune."

Harold's eyes held a definite twinkle. "No, I'm not immune. But if I go off with Sarah Sue, where will
that leave you?"

Gillian didn't say anything for a minute, then shrugged. "I'll be okay, once I get there."

Harold arched an eyebrow again. "McCade's going to be there, isn't he?"

She straightened a stack of papers on her desk. Her head started pounding again. "I don't know and I
don't care. I just think it would be fun to go. I've never been to a country fair before."

"You're not very good at lying. He's going to be there. You're not as indifferent to him as you pretend,
are you?"

"That's none of your business."

"You do remember that he may be responsible for all the trouble we're having?"

"I don't think he's responsible."

"Is that your heart talking or your brain?"

Gillian sighed. "I don't know. I don't want it to be him."

Harold cursed under his breath. "Someone is trying to shut this rig down, and we need to find out who
it is. Dallas McCade is the most likely suspect. Who else could possibly have a motive?"

Gillian swallowed a lump in her throat. "He's innocent, until proven otherwise."

"Yeah, right. Just watch yourself." He picked up his hardhat and left.

Gillian opened the top drawer of her desk and searched for her bottle of aspirin hidden beneath all the
pencils, paper clips, and rubber bands. Surely, Dallas wasn't responsible for the mishaps that had
occurred on the drilling site. Yet who else could it be?

She found the aspirin and swallowed two tablets. Harold was right. She wasn't very good at lying. To
others or to herself. That's what she'd been doing for days. Maybe not exactly lying. She was in
denial, that was it. For all her brave words at the cafe, she was extremely attracted to Dallas
McCade. It was exciting and frightening at the same time.

She hadn't been attracted to anyone like this since she'd met her husband in college. Her dream of
happily ever after had turned into the cold reality of being married to a big brute who drank too much.
Before she could file for divorce, she was released from the nightmare when Nick was killed in a car
accident.

Gillian twisted the wedding ring on her finger. She still wore it to remind herself about the dangers of
getting involved with a man. It also helped ward off the advances of the men on the projects where
she worked.

She tossed the aspirin bottle back in the drawer. In the last four years, she had only dated a couple of
times. Her escorts were always small-statured men. Men who were complete opposites of her
husband. Men whom she felt nothing for. She hadn't allowed herself to be attracted to anyone. It was

too dangerous.

Dallas was big and tall. He scared her sometimes. No, h e didn't scare her. The images he evoked
frightened her. Dallas made her angry and frustrated with his rude, abrupt ways. He also made her
hungry for passion like no one else ever had. She was definitely attracted to him. Maybe, just maybe,
she was ready to do something about it.

****

The tantalizing smells of popcorn and hot dogs lingered on the warm breeze blowing over the
fairgrounds. It seemed everyone in town and the outlying areas had come to enjoy the Founder's Day
Jubilee. Gillian walked beside Harold, looking at all the booths, smiling at the children running
around.

It was nearly four o'clock. Harold set a brisk pace, scanning the game booths and food stalls, trying to
discover where the kissing booth was set up.

They passed the dunking booth, where a good-natured man sat on a platform, beckoning passersby to
try their luck, taunting friends to hit the target.

"Hey, Kelsey McCade," the man called to a little girl skipping in front of Gillian. "You look like you
have a good arm. It's hot up here. Give your old reverend a dunking."

The child laughed and paid for three balls. She took careful aim and missed the first two times, but the
third ball hit the red and white bull's-eye, sending the reverend splashing into the clear vat of water.
He came up sputtering.

"Are you cooler now?" the little girl asked, laughing. "Or should I go get my dad and uncles? I bet
they could make you real wet and cool."

Gillian didn't stay to see the outcome, but hurried to catch up with Harold. That blond imp was a
McCade. Probably one of Dallas's nieces.

Sarah Sue stood near a bright pink stall decorated with large red and white hearts. She was talking to
an older woman and a very pregnant one, whom Gillian recognized as Jessie McCade. The waitress's
face lit up when she spotted Gillian and Harold.

"Well, darlin'," she said to Gillian. "Glad you made it. And I'm real glad you brought Harold along,
too." She winked at him, laughing when his cheeks reddened.

"My goodness, where are my manners?" said Sarah Sue. "This here is Ruth McCade. Dallas's mother.
And this is my good friend, Jessie. Ruth and Jessie, this is Gillian and Harold. They work at the
drilling site."

Gillian nodded at Ruth and smiled at Jessie.

Sarah Sue linked her arm through Harold's. Gillian watched the scared rabbit-look come into his
eyes. The waitress was staking her claim and it seemed there wasn't much Harold could do about it.

"You ladies don't mind if we leave now, do you? I'm going to show Harold the sights." Without
waiting for a reply, Sarah Sue whisked him away. They were soon lost in the crowd.

Gillian stared at Ruth and Jessie. All three burst into laughter.

"She isn't shy about what she wants, is she?" Gillian said.

Ruth shook her head. "That's our Sarah Sue. Not a shy bone in her body. She minds everyone's
business, then takes care of it and her own. It's been a while since she took a fancy to a man. He
doesn't stand a chance, does he, Jessie?"

"No, when Sarah Sue sets her mind on something, she usually gets it." Jessie fanned herself with her
hands. "I need to find some shade and a cool drink."

Ruth opened her big black purse, produced an old-fashioned folded fan and handed it to Jessie. "Let's
get you out of this blazing sun. You're welcome to come along with us," she said to Gillian.

"Thanks. I'd like that."

Ruth smiled and led the way. They stopped at one of the picnic tables near the concession stand. Ruth
helped Jessie settle on the hard bench.

"I'll get the drinks," said Gillian. "Lemonade okay for everyone?"

Ruth patted Gillian's arm. "That would be lovely, dear. You're such a sweet young lady. I know I
shouldn't like you, because you're working for Copper River Oil. I'm just going to ignore all that and
pretend that you don't. Run along and get those drinks. Jessie looks like she's about to faint."

Gillian stood for a moment, not knowing how to reply to such a candid speech. Before she could take
offense, she caught Jessie's amused look.

"You do seem to get the worst treatment from my relatives, don't you?" Jessie smiled with affectionate
exasperation at her mother-in-law.

Ruth stared round-eyed at Jessie. "Whatever do you mean? Did I say something wrong?" She turned to
Gillian with tears in her eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or offend you. It's just that Dallas is
so upset about the drilling and I'm not too happy about it either. And you're such a sweet girl, like I
said. Oh, dear." She searched in her purse again, pulled out a delicate lace handkerchief and blew her
nose.

Gillian didn't dare catch Jessie's eye. "It's okay, really. I'll get those drinks now." She hurried to the
counter and placed the order.

When she walked back to the table, she almost stumbled and spilled the drinks. Dallas and two other
men were talking to Ruth and Jessie. She recognized the men from Billie G's. Gillian's heart flip-
flopped when Dallas stepped toward her.

"Here, let me help you with those." His deep voice, for once devoid of anger and rudeness, squeezed
at Gillian's heart.

He set the two drinks on the table. Jessie accepted hers gratefully and drank deeply. Color came back
into her cheeks.

Dallas frowned at his sister-in-law. "You ought to go home. You don't look well."

"I'll be fine," she said, taking another drink.

"Keep an eye on her," he said to his mother.

Ruth nodded. "Don't you worry. I'm going to take good care of her."

Gillian stood a little away from the group, sipping her lemonade. She studied the men near the table.
They must be Dallas's brothers. There were definite physical similarities. She caught the eye of the
younger one who was staring openly at her.

He strolled around the table and extended his hand. "Since no one seems inclined to introduce us, I'll
do it myself. I'm Tyler McCade and that's my brother, Austin."

Austin nodded to her and she smiled back. She shook Tyler's hand. "Gillian Bankston. I work for
Copper River Oil."

"I already figured that out, honey," Tyler said. "Dallas told me all about you. He has his eye on you, if
you haven't figured that out by now." He glanced sideways at his brother and grinned. Dallas scowled
at him.

"There's nothing between us," she said. It wasn't a lie exactly. Sure, the chemistry between them could
burn a hole in the ozone, but neither Dallas nor she wanted to acknowledge it or act upon it.

Tyler leaned closer. "There's something definitely going on between you two. He has it bad for you,
honey. Just look at him. I don't think Dallas likes me talking to you."

"Why ever not?" She looked at Dallas. He was frowning, as usual.

Tyler chuckled. "Because I have a reputation with the ladies." He winked.

Gillian smiled at the younger McCade brother. He was a charmer, all right. She took another drink of
lemonade and nearly choked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dallas stomping toward her. Her
hand trembled slightly.

"Well, I guess that's my cue to exit, stage right." Tyler tipped his Stetson to his brother and stepped
away.

Dallas took her elbow. "Walk with me."

Three words. Just those three words and she was ready to follow him anywhere. Gillian swallowed
hard and nodded. She had it bad for him, too. The thing was, she didn't know what to do about it.

"We'll meet up with y'all later," Dallas said to his family and started walking toward the game booths.

Gillian glanced over her shoulder. Tyler gave her a thumbs up and Jessie smiled and waved. Dallas's
long strides were difficult to match. She had to almost run to keep up. His hand on her elbow branded
her skin, making her acutely aware of him. She pulled her arm a little, deciding he was taking too
much for granted.

Dallas looked down at her; his blue eyes scorched her with the heat of his desire. She'd thought he'd
been dangerous when he'd acted rudely; now, he was turning all that sensuous charm her way. Oh
man, she was in trouble.

He didn't release his hold on her. "We need to talk."

Gillian tried to still the hammering in her heart as she looked around. People were staring at them
from every direction. "Okay. Where?"

"Good question." He nodded to friends, as he guided her through the crowd. "There doesn't seem to
be any place to sit and talk. Except back there with my family. And that won't hack it. We need to be
alone."

If he wanted to talk, Gillian wanted to hear what he had to say. Especially since he was being nice for
once. "I have an idea," she said. "Follow me."

She led the way toward the rides and stopped near the Ferris wheel. "Well, what do you say? Will
this work?"

She raised her chin slightly. Dallas suddenly realized Gillian was feisty and unsure of herself at the
same time. An intriguing combination. He reached out and gently chucked her under that damned
stubborn chin. "Sure. I'm game, if you are."

The wary look came back into her eyes. Dallas wished--hell, he didn't wish anything. All he wanted
to do was talk to her, get her comfortable with him, then sleep with her. Nothing more.

He paid for two tickets and sat down beside her in the double seat of the Ferris wheel. For once, he
was going to enjoy being cramped into a small place. It was snug fit with her sweet little body
wedged against him. When he threw his arm across her shoulders, she gave him a look and he
grinned. He hadn't felt this good in ages. Flirting with a pretty woman had its advantages.

The attendant locked the bar in place, pushed the lever, and they were lifted into the air, the seat
rocking with the motion. Gillian breathed deeply, raising her face to catch the breeze. Dallas watched
her, deciding that maybe the ride wouldn't be so enjoyable after all, because he was fast becoming
damned uncomfortable with wanting her.

The Ferris wheel made a complete circle, before Gillian turned a little toward him and broke the
silence. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

Her eyes were the color of innocence and seduction; a brown so soft he wanted to lose himself in
their velvety depths. "I think it's time we called a truce." His voice was gruff as he tried to subdue his
rising desire.

"What? Are we at war or something?" A smile curved her full lush lips.

Feisty, Dallas thought again. And attractive as hell.

"It's the battle of the sexes, sweetheart. It's always war between a man and a woman."

"So, are you raising the white flag?" She decided to ignore the sweetheart bit. And where had these
snappy comebacks come from? All at once, she felt free and uninhibited. She wanted to put her past
behind her and live for the moment. Enjoy the dangerous repartee with the handsome rancher
scrunched beside her up here on the Ferris wheel.

Dallas slowly shook his head, grinning that half-grin that always gutted her mid-section. "I'm not the
one who's going to surrender," he said softly in her ear.

The sensual glitter in the deep blue eyes shot rivulets of excitement up and down her spine. His hot
breath on her skin made her nerves tingle. His arm lay heavy across her shoulders, and his body felt
warm and solid against her.

Gillian wanted to curl up in his arms and feel his lips on hers. Yes, she certainly had it bad for this
man, but she had no intention of surrendering completely. At least, not yet.

She tried to wiggle away and put a little distance between them. His hand clamped down on her
shoulder, his eyes locked on hers.

The Ferris wheel suddenly jerked, then stopped. They were perched high on top. There weren't many
people on the ride and the ground was far below. They were as good as alone.

Gillian twisted the ring on her finger. She needed to remember why she never got involved with men,
but her desire for Dallas was overriding her good sense.

Dallas released her shoulder and pulled his arm back. "Why do you still wear your wedding band?
Do you miss him that much?" His voice was harsh and gruff.

With his arm gone from her shoulders, Gillian felt bereft. Feelings of loneliness and fear mixed with
feelings too wonderful and exciting to give up."No. I don't miss him at all."

Dallas waited for her to say something more. She was still twisting that damn ring on her finger. "Why
do you wear it then?"

Her chin came up. "To remind me how dangerous it is to get involved with a man."

"And getting involved with a woman isn't?" He looked away into the distance.

"It's not the same," Gillian said softly, focusing her attention on her hands in her lap. "A woman can't
hurt a man."

"To hell she can't. A woman can damn well hurt a man."

"You're wife hurt you?"

"Yeah." He said it tersely, and Gillian knew the hurt had gone deep.

"But not the same way Nick hurt me," she whispered, twisting the ring again.

Dallas turned back to her. "Are you telling me that your husband hit you?" Every muscle in his body
tightened at the thought of some bastard hurting her.

Gillian nodded. Her head bobbed with the movement, and she kept her eyes lowered. Dallas forced
himself not to gather her in his arms and hug away her pain."No wonder you still wear it, then."

She stopped twisting the ring and looked up. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to get involved with
you."

"Hell, do you think I want to get involved?" Definitely not a good idea. Gillian made him feel things
he didn't want to feel. But he wanted her, damn it. He'd take his chances. "I just want to make love to
you, sweetheart. Have a good time together. We don't need to get involved."

"Is that really possible?" Those big chocolate brown eyes looked disbelieving.

Hell, he didn't know if it was possible or not. With other women, yes. But with Gillian? He wanted
her so badly, he didn't want to think about the dangers and risks. "Look. We've both been hurt in the
past. Neither of us wants a relationship. At least, I don't. Do you?"

Gillian shook her head.

"We're two consenting adults. We'll enjoy each other's company. Have a good time, like I said." He
hoped to God he wasn't lying. "We'll take it nice and slow. Only as far as you want to go."

"I don't sleep around."

"I know you don't." He stuck his hand out. "So what do you say? Truce?"

Gillian hesitated only for a second. She put her hand in his. "Okay. Truce."

The ride started down again, the car jerking back and forth as it began the descent. Dallas pulled her
closer until she was halfway leaning across his chest. "I'm dying to kiss you again."

Gillian slid her hand from his and scooted out of the embrace. "You're going to have to wait a little
while longer. The ride is over."

The car stopped at the bottom and the attendant let them out. They stood there looking at each other.

"What do you want to do now?" she asked, moving away from the Ferris wheel.

Before Gillian could say a word, Dallas's arm slipped around her waist. He guided her away from the
booths and the crowd.

Her tummy hummed with excitement. "Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere so we can have a little privacy. Real privacy."

He slowed down when they reached the bleachers, leading her behind a brick building. There were
no people around. A large field abutted the fairgrounds. Rows and rows of cotton shimmered in the
breeze.

Dallas gathered her in his arms. "I'm going to claim that kiss now." Before she could object, his mouth
came down, grinding her lips, forcing her to open to him.

Gillian closed her eyes and melted into the embrace. He tasted better than she remembered. His
tongue twined with hers, pushing, retreating, searching and exploring.

Dallas tangled his fingers in her hair, gently tugging her head back, plunging once more into her moist
depths. Gillian clutched his broad shoulders, hanging on as he trailed kisses down her neck, tugging
her earlobe and licking the sensitive hollow of her collarbone. He pulled her closer and she felt his
muscular thighs pressed against her own, the hardness of his arousal against her stomach.

Gillian whimpered when his hand cupped her breast. He rasped his thumb across the nipple. Tiny
shards of light exploded behind her closed eyes. The pleasure was almost unbearable. She wanted
more. Wanted flesh against flesh. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades.

Dallas pulled her shirt from her waistband, easing his hands under her blouse, caressing her sensitive
skin. Easing her lacy bra down, his fingers brushed over the soft peaks, while he captured her lips in
another fiery kiss.

Gillian floated in a mist of delightful erotic sensations. She reached her arms around his neck,
plastering her body to his.

Dallas slid his hands around her, down her back, beneath the waistband of her shorts, where he

cupped her bottom, rocking her against his hardness.

Gillian moaned and her legs almost gave way. Somewhere deep inside, she knew she had to stop this
madness before she let him take her right then and there on the ground. She opened her eyes and
forced herself away from his hold.

Dallas's body shuddered with need. He reached out and gently touched Gillian's breast again, stroking
the pebbled bead beneath the cotton blouse, watching in fascination as it hardened even more.

Gillian gulped back a sob and grabbed his hand. "We have to stop." The words came out shakily.
Breathing was difficult. "I thought you said we were going to take it nice and slow." She straightened
her clothes and tucked her shirt back into her pants.

Dallas clenched his jaw, striving for control. Gillian was right. They had to stop. But good God, he
didn't want to stop. He'd just had a taste of heaven and he wanted more.

Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips. He was still breathing heavily. "I don't think it's going
to go nice and slow, sweetheart. I want you too much."

"I want you, too. But we have to slow down."

Dallas nodded. He kissed her quick and hard, then stepped back. He struggled to master his raging
body. Had he been this hot for Marilyn all those years ago? He couldn't remember, but didn't think so.
He lifted his Stetson, ran his fingers through his hair, then pulled the hat back over his head.

Gillian's eyes had that wary look in them again. He didn't like it.

"How about some cotton candy or a snow cone?" he asked.

She smiled, her kiss-swollen lips trembling from the aftermath of their passion. "That would be nice."

Dallas splayed his hand on the small of her back and guided her back to the booths and crowd. Gillian
tried to ignore the heat of his touch. Her response and awareness to this particular man was
frightening in its intensity. She took several deep breaths and looked at the people and the decorated
booths on the fairground.

They stopped in front of the cotton candy stand and Gillian sniffed the air. "I haven't had cotton candy
in years."

"Cotton candy, it is," Dallas said, then groaned when he saw Nadine Cooley manning the booth.

"Hello, Dallas." Nadine leaned her elbows on the counter, displaying her ample charms to him. "See
something you like? Something you want? Something I can do for you? You know I'd do anything," she
shot Gillian a nasty look, "anything for you."

Dallas cleared his throat. The woman needed to be committed for good. "One cotton candy. That's all
I want."

Nadine straightened and pursed her lips in a pout. She took her time spinning the pink strands of sugar
onto a paper cone, all the while glaring at Gillian.

Handing the cotton candy to Dallas, she held one of his hands for a moment. Tugging him closer, she
batted her lashes at him. "I'll be in the kissing booth at six. I'll be waiting for you."

Dallas jerked his hand away and slapped the money on the counter. "I don't think so, Nadine."

He gave the candy to Gillian and steered her away from the booth.

Gillian took a bite of the sweet confection. Instantly, it melted in her mouth. "I've heard of women
throwing themselves at men, but until now, I'd never actually seen it done."

"Nadine is off her rocker," he said. "She won't take no for an answer." He looked down at her. "You
think that's funny?"

Gillian shrugged a shoulder. "She obviously likes you."

"Obviously."

"You don't care for such wanton admiration?"

"Not when the woman leaves me ice cold." He pinched off some of the cotton candy and popped it in
his mouth. "Now, if you admired me so wantonly, it would be a different story."

"Don't you wish." She fluttered her eyelashes, and whipped ahead of him.

Dallas caught up with her easily. "Let's try our luck at some of these games. I'll win you a stuffed
animal or two. A girl can't have too many stuffed animals, can she?"

"That's a sexist remark, if I ever heard one. How about if I win something for you?" Gillian said with
a grin.

"How about if you just give me something."

"Like what?"

"That sweet little body of yours?"

"You never quit, do you?" She took a bite of candy, trying to keep her hands from trembling. His
every word, his every move, made her tingle with desire.

Dallas shook his head. "Not when I want something as badly as I want you. Why don't we--"

"Uncle Dallas, Uncle Dallas! I've been looking everywhere for you." Kelsey McCade ran up and
launched herself at her uncle.

Gillian smiled as Dallas switched gears from ardent lover to doting uncle. He caught his niece in his
arms and lifted her up. "Hey, hotshot. I've been right here the whole time. What do you want? Need
some money?"

"No . . . Yes . . . That's not it," she said. "The races are starting. Daddy and Uncle Tyler said to get
your you-know-what over there."

Dallas set his niece down and looked at Gillian. "Duty calls. Come on, you're about to get a taste of a
real country fair."

Kelsey grabbed her uncle's hand, and Dallas grabbed Gillian's. They ran to a makeshift track on the
other side of the fairgrounds where people were gathered, waiting for the events to begin.

"What kind of races are we talking about?" Gillian asked, breathless from running. Kelsey looked to
be around eleven years old and could run like the wind. It wasn't easy keeping up.

"Kind of like track and field races," Kelsey explained, slowing down and leading them to a big
canopy.

Ruth sat under the shade with Jessie, who was happily eating a blue snow cone. Austin and Tyler
stood nearby. Dallas left Gillian with his mother and joined his brothers.

Kelsey walked over to the group of men. "I found him, Dad. Everyone's finally here. I wish Aunt Tori
was here, too. And Uncle Cameron," she added, smiling back at Jessie.

"Cameron hasn't been to one of these fairs in years," Ruth said. "But now that he's moved back to Salt
Fork and married to Jessie, I'm sure that will change." She sniffed and a big tear rolled down her
cheek.

Jessie automatically handed her a paper napkin. "I'm sure he would have been here if he hadn't gone
to the medical convention. He attended the homecoming last fall, remember?"

"Yes," said Ruth with a sigh. "Marrying you has done him a world of good. I wish my other boys
would settle down."

Kelsey ran over and hugged her grandmother. "I know how you feel, Grams."

Before Ruth could reply, Kelsey jumped back and snapped her fingers. "I've just had the most brilliant
idea. Since Aunt Tori is at summer school, you can take her place," she said, pointing a finger at
Gillian.

"Take her place for what?" Gillian didn't like the gleam in the little girl's eyes.

"In the races!"

"Me? I'd be more of a hindrance than a help. I'm afraid I'm not very athletic," Gillian said.

"That's okay, neither is Aunt Tori." Kelsey dismissed the excuse. "You can be Uncle Dallas's partner
and I've just thought of someone for Daddy. Be right back." She dashed off toward the game booths.

Gillian looked from Jessie to Ruth. "I don't think this is a good idea."

Jessie laughed. "It might be fun. Just go with the flow."

Gillian wondered what she was getting herself into. "Go with the flow. Right." She looked at Dallas.
He was talking to his brothers, but he glanced her way and winked. Gillian caught Jessie and Ruth
staring, both with stunned expressions on their faces.

"What's wrong?" Gillian asked, hoping she wasn't blushing.

Jessie took a bite of snow cone, crunched the ice, then looked consideringly at Gillian. "I've never
seen Dallas wink at a woman before."

"Me neither," Ruth said. "Ever since Marilyn left him, he's positively hated women."

"Amen to that," Jessie said. "He's been rude and mean for years. Or at least to me, he has."

Ruth folded her napkin. "Oh, no. It wasn't only to you, dearest. He took an aversion to all females."
She turned to Gillian. "All of them except you. You've worked a miracle. I'm glad I ignored the fact
that you work for Copper River Oil. I knew I should like you from the start. And I was right."

Again, Gillian didn't know how to reply to such a forthright speech. She was saved from any
embarrassment when Sarah Sue and Harold walked up.

"Well, I better get started," said Sarah Sue. "Harold, you stay here while I take care of business."

She pushed him toward Gillian and walked to the middle of the track. Picking up a megaphone, she
began organizing the teams and events.

Gillian watched Sarah Sue as she inspected the four race sites, directed the helpers and finished
marking off the boundaries for each course. "She knows how to get things done, doesn't she?" she said
to Jessie and Ruth.

Jessie nodded. "Sarah Sue is a good leader. This is her favorite part of the festivities. She's been in
charge for years."

"Managing female is what I call it," Harold mumbled under his breath. He colored faintly when all
three women stared at him. "But competent--a real leader. I'm going to get a soda." He hurried away.

"Poor man," Jessie said. "He likes her, doesn't he?"

"Yes, and he's not very happy about it either." Gillian glanced at Dallas, over by his brothers. "What
is it with men anyway?"

Jessie shrugged. "I don't know. I'm still trying to figure it out."

"You'll never completely figure it out," Ruth said with a sigh. "It's one of life's little mysteries. And
speaking of mysteries . . . what in the world is Kelsey doing?" She pointed toward the carnival
booths.

Gillian looked across the football field. Kelsey was tugging and half-dragging a lovely, but obviously
reluctant, woman toward the games.

"Looks like she's got something up her sleeve." Jessie crunched another mouthful of snow cone ice.

Kelsey walked up to them. "Grams, you remember Miss Rogers? My teacher from last year? And this
is my Aunt Jessie and--hey, I don't know your name," she said to Gillian.

Gillian held out a hand to the teacher. "Gillian Bankston. Nice to meet you."

Miss Rogers smiled. "Good to meet you, too."

"Miss Rogers is going to be Dad's partner in the races," Kelsey said. "Tell her it'll be fine, Grams.
She's not very athletic either."

"It's all fun and games. Not much athletic skill required," Ruth assured her.

"See, I told you," said Kelsey. "Come on. The races are about to start." She grabbed Gillian's arm and
hauled both women toward the men.

"Hey, Dad. I brought you a partner. You remember Miss Rogers?" She left her former teacher near her
father and went to stand near Tyler.

"Who did you bring for me, squirt?" Tyler ruffled her bangs out of her eyes.

"I'm going to be your partner this year. Neat, huh?" Kelsey beamed at everyone.

"Yeah, neat," Tyler said with a grin.

Austin McCade wasn't smiling. Gillian didn't think he liked the idea of having Miss Rogers for a
partner. There was no time to speculate on the cause. Sarah Sue called the participants to the starting
line for the first event.

"You ready?" Dallas took her hand and pulled her along with the group.

"Sure." Gillian squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Just go with the flow.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Good grief! Gillian sincerely hoped she wouldn't make a complete fool of herself during the races.
How could she just go with the flow when her pulse beat ninety miles a second and her hand tingled
from Dallas's touch?

Suddenly, he stopped walking and Gillian bumped into him. Her breast pressed against his arm.
Quickly, she stepped away. Dallas looked down at her with a wicked grin and squeezed her hand.
Her heart thumped against her ribcage.

The change in the belligerent rancher was amazing. All day long, he'd been acting nice. Not once had
he scowled at her in anger. And his kisses . . . Just thinking about them brought a flush to her cheeks.

Seeing him interact with his family showed a different side, a softer side of the man. He obviously
loved his mother and little niece. And he had a good rapport with his brothers. There seemed to be a
bit of tension with Jessie. Gillian didn't know what to make of any of it.

Sarah Sue blew her whistle signaling for the games to begin. The first event was tug-of-war. Gillian
and Dallas, Austin and Miss Rogers, and Tyler and Kelsey gripped one end of a large thick rope.
Gillian and Dallas stood near the center, the first line of defense.

"Okay, folks," Sarah Sue yelled through the megaphone. "You know the rules. When I give the signal,
start pulling. Ready now."

Dallas reached over Gillian's shoulder to adjust her hands on the rope. "Get a good grip, dig in your
heels, and lean back with all your might." He brushed her hair with his lips as he settled back behind
her. Chill bumps rose at the nape of Gillian's neck and on her arms. She needed to concentrate on the
game and not be distracted by Dallas's big warm body.

When Sarah Sue blew the whistle, the enthusiastic pull from the other team jerked her forward.
Gillian planted her feet securely in the soft grass and tugged as hard as she could. The rope burned
her palms as the tension mounted. She heard Kelsey laughing and Tyler yelling encouragement.

"Listen up, team," Tyler called. "On the count of three, everyone yank as hard as they can. One . . .
two . . . three!"

Gillian strained as she pulled. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the rope went lax and she was
suddenly on top of Dallas with his arms wrapped around her. Her soft backside nestled against his
hardness, every square inch sensitive to the intimate contact. She rolled off, brushed grass and dirt
from her jeans, and tried to steady her breath.

Dallas rose to his feet. "Good job."

Gillian nodded. "Good job, yourself." The look in his eyes warmed her all over.

Tyler walked up with Kelsey at his heels.

"Good job? That was a great job." He slapped his brother on the shoulder and gave Gillian a high
five. "Ready for the next event?"

Gillian smiled at his enthusiasm. "Sure, lead on."

Kelsey jumped up and down. "We won, we won! I told you that you'd do okay," she said to Gillian.
"See? You were worried for nothing."

Austin and Miss Rogers joined the group. Kelsey hugged her teacher, then her dad. "Wasn't that fun?
Y'all make a good team. Now, let's hurry. The potato sack race is next." Grabbing Tyler's hand, she
ran ahead, then stopped and turned. "What are you waiting for? Let's go!"

Tyler grinned. "You heard the little squirt. Get a move on."

"We might as well get with the program." Dallas placed his hand on the small of Gillian's back and
urged her forward.

She tried to ignore the streams of hot pleasure coursing through her body from his touch. How much
more could she take, before she melted into a puddle of sensual sensations? "Kelsey certainly is
energetic," she said, watching the little girl up ahead.

"She's a pistol, that's for sure."

The next event was a relay race with potato sacks. The McCade group lined up according to Tyler's
instructions.

"We'll go boy, girl--boy, girl. Austin's fast, so we'll start with him." Tyler motioned for his brother to
get in lead, then placed Miss Rogers next. "Kelsey and I will follow, with Dallas and Gillian bringing
up the rear."

Gillian almost panicked. "Uh, don't you think someone else should be last? I've never done this
before."

Tyler shook his head. "Don't worry. This is going to work. Trust me." He smiled before moving away
to issue more instructions to the team. When he smiled, Tyler's resemblance to his oldest brother was
much more pronounced.

Dallas winked at her before he turned around to watch the race. That was the second time he had done
that. Gillian's tummy fluttered in response.

Sarah Sue gave the signal to start. Austin hopped and jumped like there was nothing to it. He left the
other participants far behind. When he returned, he was barely out of breath. Miss Rogers laughed as
she stepped into the sack. She started off fine, but after five hops, she fell and struggled to get up.

Kelsey screeched at the top of her lungs, "Get up, Miss Rogers! You can do it. I know you can." She
crossed her fingers, her arms, and her legs for good luck.

Miss Rogers finally managed to stand upright. She hopped with all her might and returned triumphant.
Tyler grabbed the sack, climbed in and took off.

Gillian watched. She clapped and yelled with the rest of the group, but dread filled her stomach. She
never had been good at this sort of thing. Little Kelsey even looked like a pro when it was her turn.

"Dallas?" She tapped his shoulder.

"What is it?" He turned slightly, his attention concentrated on Kelsey's progress. "Come on, hotshot!
Doing good."

Wringing her hands, she looked up at him. "I don't think I can do this."

His blue eyes lasered in on her, and she smiled weakly. Dallas took her hands in his and tried to
reassure her. "Of course, you can do this. It's only a game. All we want to do is have fun. You're
worrying too much."

Kelsey made her last jump, hopped out of the sack and handed it to her uncle. Dallas rumpled her

hair. "Way to go, hotshot. Gillian needs a pep talk. Make it quick, because I don't expect this to take
too long." He was off, winking again in Gillian's direction.

Dallas hopped across the field like it was an everyday occurrence. Gillian couldn't believe it. Was
this the same forbidding man who had confronted her at every turn for the past several weeks? He
was actually enjoying these races, throwing himself into them whole-heartedly, supporting his team
members, and doing his best to win.

On his way back, Dallas kept his eyes on her. Gillian's heart flip-flopped. Not only did she have it
bad for the belligerent cowboy, she had the sinking suspicion she was halfway in love with him. But
that was impossible. Hadn't she vowed never to love again?

Dallas stopped in front of her and helped her climb into the burlap sack. When she bent to get a grip
on the top edge, he stooped down beside her. "Keep your eyes on the red line at the end of the
course," he whispered in her ear. "Turn with a hop and come back to me. I'll be waiting."

Gillian nearly fell over backwards from his nearness. No man had ever affected her like Dallas did.
"Go on, now." His voice was warm, full of encouragement. She felt an excitement that had nothing to
do with the race.

With a silent prayer for luck, Gillian started down the course. The first few hops proved awkward,
but soon she found her rhythm. Even though Dallas had assured her it was all in fun, she knew these
races were important to the McCade family and wanted to do her best for them.

At the red line, Gillian turned carefully and started on the return trip keeping her eyes on the ground.
The yelling and commotion on the sidelines increased; someone must have won the race.

Gillian hated letting the McCade's down, but she'd warned them. As she neared the finish line, she
finally looked up. Kelsey jumped up and down and waved her arms. Tyler motioned for her to hurry
up. Mustering her last reserves, she jumped with all her might. As she crossed the finish line, she fell
into Dallas's arms. "I'm sorry. I told you I wasn't very good at this."

Dallas hugged her close. "What are you talking about? You were wonderful. We won."

"What? But how? That man beat me by a mile. How could we have won?"

"We were already one man ahead, sweetheart. Tyler's strategy is almost foolproof. Works every time,
or it has so far."

"Strategy? Oh, thank goodness. I thought I had lost the race for all of you."

Tyler and everyone gathered around to congratulate Gillian.

"Lost? No way," Kelsey said, helping her out of the sack. "Uncle Tyler knows what he's doing. And
you were great. We're having fun and winning. Okay, let's get ready for the next event." She led the
way, as usual.

Gillian groaned when she saw an obstacle course laid out on the other side of the field. Dallas looked
down at her with a grin. "What's wrong? Seems like this would be right up your alley. After climbing
that ravine to take pictures of those skunks, this should be a piece of cake."

"Nothing was at stake then." She walked fast to keep up. "I was doing that for pleasure. This is
serious. I don't care what you say, you guys are in this to win."

Dallas stopped and caught her arm. "Where's that spunk, that grit, you've been hurling my way ever
since I laid eyes on you? Come on. I know you can do this. Relax."

Tyler put them in position and Sarah Sue blew the whistle.

Gillian didn't have time to worry; she was second in line. She watched Dallas easily climb a rope and
jump over a low wall, then expertly jog through a row of tires. She couldn't see the details of the
course after that. The least they could have done was review the course beforehand.

A touch on her shoulder made her turn around. "Don't look so glum," Tyler said with a smile. "If you
think you can't do something, just go through the motions. Don't skip anything. You can do this."

Dallas ran up and tagged her hand. Gillian tried to smile as she raced toward the rope. These
McCades were something else. She just hadn't figured out what exactly.

The low wall wasn't as difficult as she thought. When she came to the tires, she stepped carefully to
avoid tripping over the rims. Next was a neon orange tube made of nylon that snaked across the grass.
Okay, no problem. She could crawl with the best of them. At the end of the long tube, Gillian climbed
out and rubbed her knees. Her body wasn't used to this kind of abuse.

Running toward the next obstacle, she groaned inwardly. It was a high rope bridge that didn't look
very stable. She started across and it lurched with every step. She made it to the end after only two
near tumbles.

With a sigh of relief, she raced to the last obstacle. Her heart nearly cratered as she stared at the
monkey bars. What were her chances of crossing the muddy pit without falling? She took a deep
breath and climbed the ladder, placed her hand on the first rung and swung out over the mud. With
each grip on the steel bars, her hands burned and her body swayed.

By the time she reached the middle, her palms were sweaty and she felt herself slip. Thank goodness,
it wasn't far to the ground. Miraculously, she landed on her feet and not her bottom. Her tennis shoes
stuck in the mud. Oh yuck.

Looking up at the bar, she jumped twice and tried to catch hold, but it was out of reach. The clock
was ticking. Gillian remembered Tyler's words: Go through the motions. Pretend. With arms
extended above her head and feeling extremely foolish, she walked in the mud to the end of the
monkey bars, her shoes squishing with every step. Slip-sliding over the ladder, she ran back to the
group and tagged Tyler. He took off like a rocket

Out of breath, Gillian plopped to the ground beside Dallas. Her tennis shoes were stained from the
mud, but most of the caked dirt had fallen off.

"It wasn't so bad, was it?" he said with a smile.

"Not if you like army boot camp." She rubbed her hands together. They burned like the devil.

"Here, let me see." He turned her palms upward, holding them in a gentle clasp. They were red with
blisters forming on the pads below her fingers.

The barriers Dallas hid behind, the brusque manners he showed the world fell away. He raised one
hand, then the other to his lips. Gillian felt a tingling warmth travel from her palms, through her arms,
straight to her heart.

Without a word, he pulled her to her feet and gave her a quick hug. Gillian stared at him as he yelled
at Austin to get a move on, then cheered with the rest of the team.

He was completely at ease with these silly games. Such a stark contrast with the other times she had
been with him. He always acted angry with her, or else looked at her with such passion she felt
scorched by his gaze. She remembered the dance they had shared--a heady mixture of yearning and
anger that had left her confused as well as aroused.

Gillian shook away the disturbing thoughts as Austin ran the last length of the obstacle course. The
McCades were way ahead of the other teams. Their pleasure and enthusiasm was contagious.

"Okay team, we're doing good," Tyler said, rallying his troops. "Lead the way, Kelsey. We're on a
roll."

Dallas took Gillian's arm in a firm grasp and followed his brother. "This is going to be my favorite
event," he whispered in her ear. "It's the three-legged race. We'll be joined thigh to thigh."

Gillian gulped. Again, she wondered what she'd gotten herself into. Not only the races, but with
Dallas. His abrupt turn around was disarming. He was fun to be with and gentle with her, too. They
hadn't made love yet, but they would. She knew they would.

Sarah Sue called everyone to the next course. Volunteers stood ready to help bind the participant's
legs together with short bungee-looking cords.

Dallas held Gillian close as a woman strapped their legs together. She quickly buckled the cords
together, then checked for a good fit. "There you go. Snug as a bug in a rug. Good luck."

"Thanks, Peggy," Dallas said. She gave a thumbs-up and moved on to help another couple.

With Dallas's arm around her and their bodies joined, Gillian fought the threatening feelings of panic.
For so long, she had avoided men. Especially big men. Yet she hadn't been able to avoid Dallas. She
had tried unsuccessfully to ignore the attraction between them. With a sigh, Gillian gave in to the
delicious warmth of his touch--his hard muscled thigh against her own, his biceps pressed across her
shoulders. Her body melded against his. It felt good.

"I'm glad we called a truce," he said, his breath hot against the shell of her ear. Chill-bumps coursed
down her spine. He brushed his lips to her hair. "I like the way our bodies fit together, don't you?"

Speech was beyond her, so she nodded.

"Look over there," Dallas said, pointing across the way.

It took a moment, before Gillian emerged from the deep well of pleasurable sensations. She tried to
assure herself her capitulation was partly due to the change in Dallas's attitude. Not only the powerful
sexual pull he had on her. For weeks, the man had frowned and grumbled at her. He was positively
charming today. She was in shock, she told herself.

Gillian looked at Kelsey and Tyler. The little girl was laughing as Tyler held her halfway off the
ground so their legs would join evenly. Once the bindings were secured, he grasped his niece under
her arms and walked over.

"Here's the lineup," he said, still holding a giggling Kelsey. "We'll go first, followed by Austin and

Miss Rogers, then you and Gillian can bring up the lead." He looked over his shoulder. "Austin, you
hear that?"

Austin and Miss Rogers hobbled toward them. "Yeah, I heard," he said with a growl. Gillian wished
she knew what was going on between those two. Miss Rogers was biting her lip. To keep from
grinning or crying, Gillian couldn't tell.

The whistle blew for everyone to take their places. The McCade group lined up according to Tyler's
instructions.

When Sarah Sue signaled for the race to begin, Tyler picked up his niece and trotted across the field
with Kelsey laughing all the way.

Gillian looked at Dallas. "Isn't that sort of . . . cheating?"

Dallas shook his head. "No, technically they're bound together and going down the course."

Gillian grinned. "You have all the angles figured out."

"Tyler has them all figured out," he said, watching his brother's progress.

"You're not going to pick me up and carry me away, are you?" Gillian felt a rush of heat as the image
flickered in her brain.

Dallas turned his head and gazed down at her. "Is that an invitation?"

"Maybe." She felt Dallas's hard muscles tighten. She had her arm stretched across his back, holding
on to a belt loop for support. Her heart hammered in her chest and a titillating warmth fluttered in her
tummy. She had it bad for the cowboy all right.

"I'm ready to take you up on that invitation--any time, any place," he growled in her ear.

"Any time? Any place? We'll just have to wait and see about that, won't we?" She lifted her chin and
holding her breath. Had she actually thrown out a challenge to Dallas?

His eyes darkened with passion and his nostrils flared with sensual alertness. "We're not going to
wait long," he said, his voice low and seductive.

A liquid core of shimmering desire pooled in Gillian's lower body. She forced herself to look away
before he kissed her in front of God and everybody.

Tyler, with Kelsey in tow, returned triumphant. He was only a little out of breath. It couldn't be easy
carrying a seventy-five pound girl fifty yards and back, Gillian thought with a smile.

Austin, with Miss Rogers bound to his side, set off down the course. To Gillian, Austin McCade
looked positively savage. He was one McCade who was definitely not having fun.

He and his partner were struggling to keep upright. They staggered and stumbled across the field.
Gillian held her breath when they fell down completely. It took several minutes before they got to
their feet and resumed the race.

"Damn." Tyler glanced at his watch, then at his brother. "Why can't Austin relax and run the course?"

"You know why," Dallas grumbled. He adjusted his grip on Gillian.

It was painful to watch the couple's progress. Gillian sent up a silent prayer that she and Dallas would
have better luck.

Waiting for their turn was both stressful and pleasurable. Part of Gillian found being glued to Dallas's
side exhilarating. Another part was anxious about starting a relationship with him. Only they weren't
going to have a relationship. They were just going to sleep together.

Gillian knew it was time to put her past behind her and move on with her life. She only hoped she
could survive the aftermath, because Dallas McCade was one man who didn't want a long-term
commitment. And Gillian had never been one for short-term flings. Until now.

Her thoughts returned to the race when Austin and Miss Rogers stumbled back to the group. It was all
Gillian could do to keep up with Dallas's long stride as they set off down the track. With his strong
arm around her and his hard-muscled leg strapped to her own, Gillian felt a rush of heat and desire
like she'd never experienced before. Every time their legs hit the ground, they rubbed together causing
exquisite friction. The soft denim of Dallas's jeans caressed Gillian's bare leg.

Knowing she needed to concentrate on their movements, she gave in to temptation and dared to glance
up at Dallas. Quickly, she averted her eyes, her body shuddering in response to the hungry expression
on his face.

They turned and headed back to the group. Dallas squeezed her waist. "We're almost there,
sweetheart. Then we're out of here."

Gillian felt dizzy as the low sexy tone of his voice washed over her. There would be no courtship, no
getting to know you better. She knew that now. Their bodies were screaming for each other. And
Gillian had to admit, she wanted Dallas to hold her in his arms and kiss her. She wanted him to make
love to her, feel his powerful body hover over her and claim her in the most primitive way.

They were almost to the finish line, when Gillian tripped and stumbled. Dallas tried to hold her
steady, but lost his balance and went down, quickly adjusting his body to take the brunt of the fall with
Gillian on top.

Gillian's eyes locked with crystal blue ones. Her body was plastered along the length of Dallas's hard
frame. Flickering heat scorched every nerve ending. She could feel his arousal nestled against her.
His arms tightened around her, making her feel safe and loved. But that was nonsense. Love didn't fit
into the equation. This was lust, plain and simple.

Suddenly, Gillian became aware of shouting. She heard Tyler's voice calling for them to get up.

"Damn," Dallas said, regret showing in his eyes. "As much as I like the position we're in, we need to
finish the race. Get ready to be carried away."

He jumped up in one fluid motion, lifted Gillian and hauled her to the finish line. Dallas kept his arm
firmly around her as they accepted congratulations from the group.

"Did we win?" she asked, trying to regain her composure, hoping she didn't look as flustered as she
felt.

Tyler slapped her on the back. "If we didn't, we'll come in a close second for sure. Here, let me help
you get those bindings off your legs."

Gillian stood still while he unfastened the cords. Her body still tingled from the intimate contact with
Dallas.

"There you are. Free at last," Tyler said. "I'm guessing Dallas isn't in too much of a hurry to let you
go. But you can't be tied to him all day, now can you?" He winked and ducked away from Dallas's
mock punch.

Ruth and Jessie hurried to join them.

"I lost track of the points," Ruth said. "But y'all did very well. Gillian and Miss Rogers were real
troopers."

"How about me, Grams? How about me?" Kelsey said, hopping up and down.

"Well, of course you did great. You're a McCade," she said, hugging Kelsey.

"I'm going to go get the results," Tyler said.

"I'll go with you." Kelsey ran ahead of her uncle toward the judges.

Gillian looked around for Harold. He was on the sidelines talking on the cell phone and frowning
heavily. Gillian's heart sank. Something was up; she could tell by his expression.

Harold pocketed the phone and strode across the field until he stopped in front of Gillian. "There's
trouble at the site. "What kind of trouble?" Dallas asked.

"The generators are down." Harold narrowed his eyes at him. "Although, I'm sure that comes as no
surprise to you."

Dallas stepped forward. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't play innocent with me. I know what you're up to." Harold looked at Gillian. "Let's go."

Dallas's face froze into hard lines. Gone was the charming man who'd flirted with Gillian all
afternoon. The angry, belligerent cowboy was back. "Dallas, I . . ."

He didn't let her finish. "Go on. Get out of here. Go back to the drilling site. That's where you
belong."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Dallas watched Gillian leave with Harold. His insides burned like hell. He hadn't thought about the
drilling site and Gillian's involvement all afternoon. He'd been too busy enjoying her company,
showing her the sights, holding her in his arms and kissing her, running the races. Gillian's willingness
to participate in the games pleased him. She fit right in with his family. Something Marilyn had never
accomplished in the four years of their marriage.

"We won! We won!" Kelsey shouted, running back to the group holding the piece of paper with the
results.

Dragging his thoughts away from Gillian, he focused on his niece. "That's great, hotshot."

Kelsey looked around. "Where's Gillian?"

"She had to leave."

"She can't go. We have to celebrate." She spotted Gillian walking across the field and chased after
her. "Gillian! Oh Gillian!"

Gillian stopped when she heard her name called. Dallas saw her hug Kelsey, shake her head, hug her
again, then continue on with Harold. Kelsey walked slowly back, the scrap of paper fluttering in the
wind. "She can't stay. She said she had a lot of fun. Oh well, we can still celebrate!"

"I can't. I need to get back to the ranch," Dallas said. Gillian was gone, and so was his enthusiasm for
the afternoon and the carnival.

"Do you mind if I ride with you?" Jessie asked. She was holding one hand over her large pregnant
belly and frowning.

"Are you okay?" Dallas didn't like the paleness in his sister-in-law's cheeks.

"I'm a little tired, that's all."

Tyler walked up. "Leaving already? What a coincidence. Gillian leaves. Then Dallas is ready to call
it quits, too. Hmm . . . sounds mighty peculiar to me."

"Leave him alone," Jessie said, gathering her purse and stuff.

"Whoa!" Tyler staggered backwards in exaggeration. "I never thought you'd be Dallas's champion.
Not in a million years."

"Can it, Ty," Dallas growled.

"Boys, boys!" Ruth stepped between her two giant sons. "Dallas, you go ahead and take Jessie home.
She's not looking at all well. Maybe I should go along with you."

"There's no need," Jessie said quickly. "I'll be fine. You stay. The fireworks are your favorite part of
the jubilee."

"Well, if you're sure," Ruth said hesitantly.

"I'm sure. I just want to lie down and rest. Don't worry about me."

"All right, dear. Dallas, you take good care of Jessie, you hear? And be nice to her."

"I'm always nice," he said under his breath, taking his sister-in-law's elbow and propelling her
toward the parking lot.

"I'm sorry to be so much trouble," she said when they reached his truck.

"No problem." He opened the door and waited while she got situated. Damn, she was big and round
with her pregnancy. What was Cameron doing away at a time like this? Climbing in, Dallas started

the truck and pulled onto the highway.

"You like Gillian, don't you?" Jessie asked after a few minutes of silence.

Dallas gripped the steering wheel. Why were women so damned nosy? "I wouldn't say I like her,
exactly."

Jessie shook her head. "Okay, putting your lust aside--it looked like you were actually having fun with
her. You were acting almost human the entire afternoon."

"What do you mean by that?" Dallas said. "I'm a nice guy. You don't think I'm a nice guy? Gee,
thanks."

"Well, you're not always very nice to me," she said in a small voice.

Dallas kept his eyes on the road. "Oh hell, not this again. Get off it, Jess. I'm glad you married
Cameron. I'm sorry I've acted like a bastard to you. There, I've apologized. Are you satisfied now?"

When she didn't answer, he looked across the cab. Jessie's face was scrunched up and she was
massaging her back.

"What's wrong? Nothing's wrong, is there?" A terrible premonition snaked down his spine. Maybe his
mother should have come home with them.

Jessie let out a long breath. "No, I need to lie down. I'm all right. Honest." She smiled, then leaned her
head against the seat and closed her eyes.

Dallas stepped on the gas. The sooner he got Jessie home, the better. The big diesel truck ate up the
miles. Pulling around to the back of the ranch house, Dallas parked and helped Jessie from the truck.
He didn't like this one little bit. She looked like she was in pain, but putting on a brave face for his
benefit. Once in the house, she went straight to her bedroom.

What he needed was a drink. Pouring himself a shot of bourbon, he sat at the table in the kitchen. He
thought of the afternoon. Jessie was right. He had enjoyed being with Gillian. It had been a long time
since he had relaxed and had fun. Especially in the company of a pretty woman.

Just thinking about Gillian made him hard with need. He wanted her more than he cared to admit. Why
did she have to work for Copper River Oil? That sure as hell complicated matters. He nursed such
malevolent feelings about the drilling; it was difficult to separate his emotions. Not that he felt
anything but lust for Gillian, he assured himself.

He turned when he heard footsteps in the hall.

Jessie stood in the doorway, holding her stomach with one hand, clutching the doorframe with the
other. "My water broke," she said, her eyes wide with anxiety. She bit her lower lip and looked like
she was struggling not to cry.

"Oh hell!" Dallas jumped up from the table and knocked over the kitchen chair. "What do you mean
your water broke? You said you're not due for another month. Don't do this to me, Jess."

"I'm not doing anything to you. You have to take me to the hospital." She turned away and started back
down the hall to her room. "I'm going to get my things together--" She stopped suddenly, holding on to
the wall for support. "And Dallas--please hurry!"

"I'll call Austin on his cell phone," he said, helping her to her room. "The hospital's an hour away.
Think you can hold on? Don't you dare have this baby right now."

"I'll try my best to hold on. But Dallas, quit talking and get moving." She closed her eyes in pain. "My
stuff is in that overnight bag. I'll sit right here until you're ready."

Dallas nodded, grabbed the bag and headed to the back door. He tried to call Austin. There was no
answer. Damn. His cell phone must be turned off. He called the sheriff's office. The sheriff could
relay the message to his mother and brothers at the carnival.

He had to get the truck running and get Jessie in it, then drive her to the hospital. Dallas jerked open
the back door. He stopped short when he nearly collided with Gillian. She was standing on the step
ready to knock.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He slammed the door shut behind him.

Gillian stepped back. "I need to talk to you. I didn't like the way things were left hanging this
afternoon. I know you have a problem with me working for Copper River Oil, and now--"

"Yeah, I have a problem with it." He brushed past her and headed toward the truck.

Gillian waited a second before following. "I wanted to say I had a good time this afternoon--"

Dallas stopped and took hold of her arms. "Listen, I can't go into this right now. I have another
problem to deal with. A big problem. A huge problem. Jessie's having her baby. Mom's still at the
jubilee. Cameron's in Honolulu. And I'm in one hell of a mess."

"Jessie's having her baby now?" Gillian said, her eyes wide. "Oh my God. Is she all right? I'll leave.
We can talk another time."

Dallas gripped her arm tightly. "You're not going anywhere. I need you. Go inside and help Jessie to
the front porch. I'll bring the truck around. I have to get her to the hospital. You're coming, too."

Gillian tried to pull away. "I can't. Really, I should leave--"

Dallas jerked her to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. "I can't do this alone. I need your help. Go
get Jessie and help her to the front porch. I'll be around with the truck in a couple of minutes."

He turned away and hurried to the truck before she could think of any excuses. He couldn't believe
Jessie was having her baby. He was going to have a serious talk with his brother when this was all
over and done with. Leaving his very pregnant wife and going to Hawaii, of all places. It was eighty
miles to the hospital. He hoped to God he could get Jessie there in time. If not . . .

Gillian and Jessie were sitting in the rocking chairs on the porch when Dallas pulled the truck into the
gravel drive in front of the house.

"Did you call Ruth?" Jessie asked, standing up and holding her tummy with one hand, her back with
the other.

"No, but I got hold of the sheriff. He's going to find her and Austin and tell them to meet us at the
hospital," he said, as he helped her to the truck. He closed the door, looked at Gillian and pointed to
the towels and sheets in her arms. "What are those for?"

"In case we don't get there in time."

"Don't even think that." Grabbing her arm, he led her around to the driver's side. "Get in." He pushed
her to the middle of the seat and climbed in beside her. He adjusted the air conditioner, then leaned
over to check on Jessie. "You all right?"

Jessie nodded, then grimaced as a contraction hit her. "Let's go, Dallas. Now!"

"Right. Hang in there. I'll get you there as fast as I can."

Gillian turned toward Jessie. "You need to concentrate on your breathing and relax. Work with the
contractions. Don't tense up. You took a Lamaze course, didn't you?"

Jessie let out a whoosh of air. "Yes, except I haven't practiced much. I thought I had more time." She
frowned again. "Oh my God, I'm having another one. They sure are close together."

Gillian held her hand. "Ride the contraction like a wave. Relax and breathe. Here, I'll help you."

Dallas glanced at the two women. Gillian's attention was focused on Jessie, helping her count through
the contraction. Forcing down the helpless feeling in his gut, he stepped on the accelerator. He had to
get to that damned hospital.

"How did you know what to do?" he asked Gillian, after the contraction passed.

Keeping hold of Jessie's hand, she angled her body a little toward him. "I was my sister's coach when
she was pregnant. My brother-in-law didn't think he would survive in the delivery room. He faints at
the sight of blood." She smiled at him, then quickly turned back to Jessie.

Something inside his chest constricted when Gillian smiled at him. Dallas didn't want to delve too
deeply into his feelings about her. With her body jammed against his in the crowded cab of the pickup
truck, the throbbing pressure in his groin kept time with the rhythm of the wheels on the pavement.
Ever since Gillian had arrived at the rig, his world had turned upside down. Between the frustration
about the drilling and the sexual tension emanating between Gillian and himself, Dallas thought he
would go crazy.

But right now, he couldn't think or do anything about any of it. He had to get Jessie to the doctor.

A loud moan from the passenger seat sent his stomach plummeting. "Damn, I could strangle Cameron
for leaving at a time like this."

"It's not his fault," Jessie said. "We thought we had plenty of time. He'd committed to this conference
long before we were even married. So don't you dare be mad at Cameron." She took several calming
breaths, letting them out slowly.

"You're doing fine," Gillian said. Sitting straight in her seat again, she looked at Dallas. "Cameron's
your brother? Her husband?"

"Yeah," Dallas said. "And he should be the one doing this. Not me. It's his baby. His wife. And he's a
goddamned doctor!" He shook his head, keeping his eyes on the road. "I'm going to kill him when he
gets back."

"Dallas, don't be mean!" Jessie moaned, then started whooshing with her breathing technique again.
Another contraction had started.

Gillian guided her through it, making soothing noises, wiping Jessie's forehead, helping count the
breaths.

Although the contraction only lasted for several minutes, it seemed like an eternity to Dallas. He
pressed the gas pedal closer to the floorboard.

When Jessie fell back against the seat to gather strength for the next contraction, Gillian angled
toward him again. "So Jessie's staying at the ranch while her husband's away. Where do they live?
How long have they been married?"

Dallas gripped the steering wheel tighter. "What is this? Twenty questions?" he asked impatiently.

Gillian wiped a wisp of hair from her cheek. "I'm trying to make the best of a panicky situation.
Excuse me for even trying."

Dallas let out a long exhale. He didn't want to admit even to himself how close to panicking he really
was. Gillian was offering a distraction, and he had no right to snap her head off. "Okay, I'll play
along," he said. "They live in Salt Fork. They were married last spring. She's staying with us while
Cameron's away at a medical convention in Honolulu. She wasn't supposed to have this baby for a
month or more. Nonetheless, Cameron had no right to go off like he did."

Jessie struggled to sit up. "And you'll probably hold it against him for the rest of his life, won't you?
Just like you hold the drilling against me. You'll never forgive me. Never."

"Damn it, Jessie," Dallas said, gripping the steering wheel even tighter. "I apologized to you, didn't
I?"

"Shhh. You mustn't get upset," Gillian said to Jessie. "Lean back and try to relax."

Jessie sniffed and did as she was told.

Gillian turned on Dallas. "Don't argue with her," she said in a whisper.

"I'm not arguing," he said between clenched teeth.

"I know you're upset and that you're angry with your brother, but we've got to think of Jessie and the
baby."

" I am thinking of them. I can't think of anything else--" A loud groan from Jessie cut him off in
midsentence. "What's the matter now?"

"I think the baby's coming," Jessie said, panting and whooshing. "And I mean right this minute. Oh no,
I want to push. I have to push now!" She fell back against the seat, her face contorted with pain.

"Don't push," Gillian said. She turned to Dallas. "Stop the truck."

"What do you mean stop the truck? We're not going to do this on the side of the road. We need to get
to the hospital." He couldn't believe this was happening.

"Stop arguing and stop the truck. Babies don't care where they're born."

"Dallas! I can't hold on much longer," Jessie said with another groan. "Please, do something."

"I don't like this," he said, pulling off the highway onto the shoulder of the road. He left the motor

running, so they could still use the air conditioning. August in Texas was hot, even in the early
evening.

Gillian hustled him out the door and made Jessie lie down in the seat. She put a sheet under her and
used a folded towel for a makeshift pillow.

Jessie moaned and writhed on the seat. "I've got to push. I need to push."

"Don't push yet," Gillian said. "Concentrate on your focal point. Breathe deeply and relax, but don't
push."

"Why can't she push?" Dallas asked, watching Jessie struggle with the contraction.

"We need to check to see if the baby's head has crowned first." Gillian dug in her purse and fished out
a small plastic bottle of hand sanitizer. She squirted some of the gel into her palm, then handed the
bottle to Dallas.

He gingerly took the bottle and stared at it then at the woman standing in front of him. "We need to
see?"

"Yes, we. I'm going to coach her. You're going to deliver the baby." She turned quickly away when
Jessie let out a loud wail.

Dallas grabbed her arm. "I can't deliver this baby. I don't know what to do. What if something goes
wrong? What if I hurt them?"

"We don't have much choice, do we? That baby is coming whether we want it to or not. And it's
coming now. I've been a coach before and can do more good calming Jessie and helping her with the
pain. You'll have to wing it."

Jessie groaned and held her stomach. "Will you two decide who's going to do what! We don't have all
day." She bit back a sob. "It hurts. God, it hurts. Do something, please!"

"All right," he said, wondering what he had done to deserve this. "You take off her pants," he said to
Gillian. "Then cover her with a sheet and get in the cab with her. I'll take it from there."

Gillian flashed him a smile, then went to work to get Jessie ready.

Dallas cleaned his hands with the sanitizer; the alcohol felt cool on his skin. He tried to think of all
the calves he had delivered. It couldn't really be that much different, could it?

When Jessie grunted with the force of another contraction, Dallas walked to the door of the passenger
side. Hell yeah, it was different. This was Cameron's wife. It was a whole lot different.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the two women in the cab of his truck. They were watching him,
depending on him. He squared his shoulders.

"Okay, Jess. I need to check on the baby." He cleared his throat. "I have to look under the sheet."

"It's all right, Dallas. Just do it," she said between gasps. "I'm going to have to push soon. I can't help
it."

Dallas lifted the sheet. "I see the top of the baby's head." He looked at Gillian. "You think it's all right
if she pushes now?"

"Yes." She helped Jessie rise up on her elbows. "All right, Jessie. Push. Push with all your might."

"Oh God, I don't think I can do this," Jessie said with a sob. "And look how I'm messing up the truck.
I'm sorry, Dallas. I'm sorry for the mess. I'm sorry about the drilling. I'm sorry--"

Dallas closed his eyes a moment and took a deep breath. "Shut up, Jess. Don't worry about any of it
except the baby. Now push." Sweat broke out on his forehead as Jessie grunted and pushed.

It wasn't long until a small crumpled body slid into his hands. Immediately, a sense of wonder settled
in the region around Dallas's heart. He caught Gillian watching him. Tenderness and something else
shone in those incredible brown eyes of hers. He felt a tug, some kind of a bond with her. Hell,
everything was getting more complicated by the minute.

"Dallas," Jessie whispered. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

He swallowed a lump in his throat. "It's a boy, Jess. You have a boy." He stared down at the tiny
infant, and the baby started to cry. Good God! He had just delivered a baby. Cameron's baby. His
nephew.

Dallas placed the baby on Jessie's tummy. "Here you go. Say hello to your son."

"Thank you," she said, touching the baby's head. "He's beautiful."

Dallas looked at Gillian. "What do I do now? I have to cut the cord. I can use my pocketknife, and we
have the sanitizer to clean it, but I don't want to hurt her."

Gillian dug in her purse again. "I'll call the hospital on my cell phone."

"Why the hell didn't you think of that before?" Dallas asked. "They could have talked me through this."

"Everything was happening too fast," Gillian said. "They'll tell us what to do now and we'll get Jessie
and the baby to the hospital as soon as possible."

****

Two hours later, Gillian stood in front of the big plate glass window, separating visitors from the
infants in the hospital's nursery. Tyler and Dallas were on her left side, while Kelsey and Austin
stood on her right. Ruth was still with Jessie.

As she looked at the baby she helped delivery, a multitude of emotions hummed inside of her. A sense
of awe about the miracle of birth, a tiny bit of jealousy and envy for Jessie, a yearning to hold a child
of her own in her arms. The man standing beside her, with his hand settled possessively on the nape
of her neck, filled her with a multitude of feelings and emotions, too. Some of them conflicting. All of
them exciting.

Kelsey pressed her nose to the glass. "I finally have a cousin. He's so little. Was I that little, Daddy?"

Austin didn't answer right away and Gillian glanced toward him. A tear slid from the corner of his
eye. He seemed to be laboring with emotions Gillian could only guess at.

After a moment, he hugged his daughter fiercely. "Yes, you were that little. Maybe even smaller. It's
hard to believe, isn't it?" He cleared his throat, let go of her and stepped back. "I'm going to get the
car. Come on, Kelsey."

"I want to stay and see the baby some more."

"You can come back tomorrow. It's getting late." He turned to Dallas. "Tell Mom I'll be out front
whenever she's ready."

"Sure. She won't be long."

Austin guided Kelsey down the corridor and out of sight.

Tyler shook his head. "Poor guy. It's been almost twelve years since Deborah died."

"Deborah was his wife?" Gillian asked.

"Yeah," Dallas answered her. "She died when she had Kelsey."

"He must have loved her very much," Gillian said softly.

"They were childhood sweethearts. He hasn't been the same since she passed away." Dallas stared at
the baby through the glass window.

Gillian's heart clenched when she realized that Dallas understood Austin's pain. The big tough
cowboy was proving extremely complicated and becoming exceedingly more attractive. Delivering
Jessie's baby had thrown them together and made them work as a team. Which they had done very
well.

When he had held the tiny infant in his arms, catching and holding her eyes in an intimate glance, her
heart had swelled. She had tried hard to suppress the emotions, but all attempts proved futile. Gillian
was afraid she was falling in love with Dallas McCade.

Except that was impossible, wasn't it? She didn't want to love anyone or get involved with a man
again. That would mean becoming vulnerable and weak. This couldn't be happening to her.

Tyler interrupted her thoughts. "But, geez Louise," he said, continuing the conversation. "Deborah
wouldn't have wanted Austin to become a monk. He's still young. He has his whole life in front of
him."

"He doesn't date much, I take it?" Gillian asked.

"He doesn't date at all."

Gillian stepped away from the window. "Well, that explains a lot."

"What do you mean?" Dallas took her elbow and led her down the hall. Tyler followed.

"It explains why he wasn't too thrilled with having Miss Rogers for his partner this afternoon at the
races," she said. "It seemed to me that Kelsey was throwing them together."

"Why would the little squirt do something like that?" Tyler asked.

Gillian shrugged. "I don't know. She's your niece."

Tyler shrugged back. "There's no telling with Kelsey."

"Let's go find Mom," Dallas said. "It's nearly eleven. Visiting hours were over a long time ago. I'm
sure Jessie needs to rest."

"What he really means is that we need to rescue Jessie from Mom," Tyler said with a grin.

Gillian frowned at him. "What a terrible thing to say."

"Darlin', you don't know our mother very well." The youngest McCade brother draped a friendly arm
over her shoulder.

"That's enough," Dallas said, pulling Gillian closely against him.

Tyler winked at Gillian, before walking ahead of them toward Jessie's room.

Gillian shot a glance at Dallas's profile. He was scowling at his brother. He tightened his grip. Could
he be jealous of his brother's actions?

As they walked through the door, she felt the heat from his body. Tension radiated from him,
communicating his hunger, his need for her. She trembled in anticipation. What would the night bring?

Ruth smiled at them when they stopped at the foot of Jessie's bed. "I'm so glad you were there to
help," she said, hugging Gillian. "Jessie told me all about it. How you knew what to do. How you
helped her through the contractions." Ruth sniffed, wiping her nose with a delicate embroidered
handkerchief. "I can't thank you enough. And now I have a beautiful little grandson." She beamed
through the tears in her eyes.

"He is beautiful," Gillian said. "I'm glad I could help."

"Hey, what about me?" Dallas walked to the head of the bed. "I had a part in all of this, too." He bent
over and kissed Jessie on the cheek. "You doing okay?"

"I'm fine. A little tired, but fine. Thanks for everything, Dallas."

"No problem." He looked at Tyler sitting in the overstuffed vinyl chair, his boots propped on the bed
rail. "Don't get too comfortable. We're leaving soon."

"Did anyone think to call Cameron?" Tyler asked, dropping his feet to the floor and standing. "He is
the father, after all."

Jessie nodded and smiled. "He's extremely upset that he missed everything. He's catching the next
flight out of Honolulu and should be here tomorrow night. Somebody needs to pick him up at the
airport in Lubbock."

"Will do." Tyler handed Ruth her purse. "Come on, Ma. Let's go. Austin's waiting with the car. See
you tomorrow, Jess." He waited while Ruth kissed Jessie.

"I want one more peek at the baby, before I go," said the doting grandmother as she hugged Gillian
again.

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Sure thing, Ma," he said, following her out the door.

Dallas looked at Gillian. "We need to get going, too."

She nodded. Her tummy flip-flopped all the way down to her toes at the blatant promise in his eyes.
Instinctively, she knew the time had come. He wanted her, and God help her, she wanted him, too.
After all they had been through and shared today, it was time.

Jessie cleared her throat. "I want to thank you, Gillian. I don't think I could have done it without you. I
don't think Dallas could have done as well without you, either."

Gillian forced a smile, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. "You did a good job, too. Your new son
is beautiful. Have you decided on a name yet?"

"We're going to call him Daniel after Cameron's father and George after mine. I know it's breaking
with tradition, but I think little Daniel will thank us for it some day."

"What tradition?" Gillian asked.

Jessie snuggled deeper under the covers on the bed. "You tell her, Dallas."

Gillian turned toward him. "What tradition?" she asked softly, wishing her heart wouldn't flutter so.

"Mom and Dad named each of us kids after one of their favorite places in Texas," he said with a wry
smile. "Kind of corny, I guess."

"I think it's sweet," Jessie said with a yawn. "But since both Cameron and my favorite place in Texas
is here . . . well, we couldn't name a child Salt Fork, could we?"

"No, you couldn't," Dallas said with a chuckle. "Naming him after his two grandfathers is much
better." He took Gillian's hand and pulled her close beside him. "Good night, Jess. Get some rest."

"I will. Goodbye, Gillian. Thanks again." Jessie gave her the thumbs up sign as Dallas led her through
the door.

CHAPTER NINE

Dallas hurried Gillian across the darkened parking lot toward his truck, wanting to get her alone.
Needing to get her alone. Several times, he glanced at her face. Her brown eyes were huge,
anticipation and something else shining in their depths.

It had been hours since they had kissed at the carnival. Hours since he'd tasted her, touched her. He
wanted her now more than ever.

The day had been long, stressful, enjoyable, exciting. He had really liked the track and field games
this year. Feeling Gillian's body bound to his in the three-legged race had nearly driven him insane
with desire.

Delivering Jessie's baby together, seeing Gillian carefully clean the little fellow and wrap him in a
towel, holding him for a minute, her eyes dreamy--Dallas felt like he'd been run over by a
steamroller. He didn't know what had hit him, yet he did know one thing. Nothing else mattered
anymore. He had to have Gillian. He couldn't wait any longer.

Tightening his hold on Gillian's hand, he drew her forward. The truck sat isolated beneath a lamp
pole in the middle of the parking lot. Not another person was in sight. The hospital was closed to
visitors for the night. Finally, they were alone.

He was breathing heavily, his body tense and hard. Before he unlocked the truck door, Dallas pulled
Gillian against him and crushed her mouth beneath his own. Her response was instantaneous. She
melted under the onslaught, wrapping her arms around his neck, melding her body against his length.

Dallas gripped her bottom, hauling her closer, nestling his shaft against her softness. She whimpered
deep in her throat, wiggling to get closer. He plunged his tongue inside her mouth, savoring her taste,
wishing he could plunge himself into her body right now. Right this minute.

He pulled back. Gillian's eyes were closed, her lips glistening from his kiss.

"Spend the night with me," he said, his voice low and rough.

Gillian's eyes flew open. Fear flashed across her face, quickly replaced with an eagerness that
matched his own. Dallas wished he could pound her dead husband for what he had done to her. He
didn't want Gillian scared of him.

"Where?" she asked. Her cheeks reddened slightly before continuing. "I don't entertain while I'm on
site. If the men saw your truck parked outside my trailer, I'd never hear the end of it. Surely, you don't
have women over with your mother in the house?"

"Hell no," he said. He kissed her forehead and helped her into the truck. "I don't entertain much
either. But I know the perfect place where we can be alone."

They drove in silence, the miles flying by. Gillian sat next to him in the dark cab with her thigh and
hip pressed to his. He draped his arm around her shoulders.

She leaned her head against him. "This is nice," she said, her voice hushed in the darkness. "A little
strange, but nice. Especially since you didn't like me very much at first and I wasn't certain if I liked
you. This afternoon was fun. I'm glad we called a truce."

"Me, too," he said, hugging her closer. "We're almost there."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see. We still have about ten miles to go." Dallas stroked her hair, enjoying the silky texture.
Soon, he would see it in all its glory, spread across his pillow. His body tightened at the thought.

Gillian snuggled against him, splaying her fingers on his chest. She played with the buttons on his
shirt. Her elbow was inches from his hardened shaft. He could feel her weight on his stomach. He
stepped on the accelerator.

Turning off the pavement, Dallas drove down a graded dirt road. It wasn't long before two long
parallel lines of blue lights could be seen in the distance.

Gillian sat up. "Is this an airport? Where are we? Where are you taking me?"

"We're on the Diamondback Ranch," Dallas said. "This is Tyler's airstrip. He's a crop duster and
keeps his planes here."

"Planes? How many does he have?"

"Four. He keeps them in those hangers over there." He pointed to two large buildings.

"Well, you certainly picked an isolated spot," she said. "What are we going to do? Park and neck like
teenagers? I don't think I want to spend the night in your truck. I had something more comfortable in
mind."

"Trust me, sweetheart. We'll be comfortable, I promise." He parked the truck near one of the
buildings and cut the motor. They sat for a minute in the darkness. Gillian's face was pale and
gleaming in the moonlight. Her scent filled his nostrils, that intriguing hint of vanilla and woman.

She cleared her throat. "Are we going to sit here all night?" Her voice sounded unsure, hesitant.

Dallas reached out and tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear, letting his finger trace the curve of her
jaw. "We could neck for a little while. It might be fun."

Gillian chuckled, a deep throaty sound that rasped across Dallas's nerve endings. He wanted to crush
her to him and take her now, with no holds barred. He needed to slow down. If he wasn't careful, he
would lose control and embarrass himself. Silently, he started counting backwards from one hundred.
He wanted to make this good for Gillian. For both of them.

Gillian leaned toward him and kissed him on the mouth, looping her arms loosely around his neck.
"Necking would definitely be fun, but I think we're past that stage. I, for one, would not be
comfortable on this bench-seat."

Dallas gripped the nape of her neck and pulled her to him. Her breath hitched as she stared at him
with wide eyes. He bent to kiss the delicate skin beneath her earlobe. "Then let's go inside and get
comfortable."

A shudder ran through Gillian's slim body as she nodded. Dallas felt himself harden in response.

The small apartment was attached to one of the hangers. With one arm around Gillian's waist, Dallas
slid the key into the lock of the door and pushed it open. It was hot and musty inside.

Flipping on the lights, he left Gillian at the door. "I'll turn on the air conditioner."

Gillian set her purse on a table and looked around. The living room was small, cozily furnished with
overstuffed chairs, a sofa, and a few choice antiques. A dining area and efficiency kitchen lay to the
left, with a narrow hall leading to the right.

Sitting on the sofa, she found herself twisting her wedding band. She stared at it for a minute before
tugging it off and slipping it into her pocket.

Gillian smiled a welcome when Dallas entered the room. "This is some setup you've got here. What
exactly is this? A love nest?"

"Not exactly," he said. "Tyler lives here some of the time. When he gets tired of his own cooking, he
sleeps at the big house. He's not staying here right now."

Dallas walked past her toward an antique armoire. When he opened the mirrored doors, Gillian saw
a well stocked wet bar inside.

"What do you want? Wine?" he asked.

"Are you trying to get me tipsy and take advantage of me, sir?" she said, covering her nervousness
with playful banter.

"Sweetheart, I've never had to resort to those kinds of measures. And I've never taken advantage of a
woman," he said, as he searched for glasses.

"I'm sure that's true. You wouldn't have to resort to those kind of measures with anyone, would you?"
Gillian stood quickly. She had to do something before she lost her nerve. "Forget the drink. I don't
want a drink. All I want is you. Only you, Cowboy." She held her breath, shocked at her own
boldness.

Dallas closed the bar and turned. His eyes burned with passion. "Come here." The words were
spoken quietly, but they echoed in Gillian's brain. She walked slowly across the room until she stood
directly in front of him. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. The time of reckoning had come.

Dallas gathered her in his arms. "I'm glad you want me, because I want you, too. I've wanted you
since the first time I saw you." His mouth came down on hers, hard and demanding. Tasting and
savoring, exploring, possessing.

Gillian wrapped her arms around his waist, molding her body to fit his. She felt his hardness against
her tummy. Her breasts pressed into his muscled chest.

Dallas cupped her bottom and pulled her upward, pushing his arousal more fully against her.

Gillian groaned as delicious sensations pulsed through her blood. Her body quickened. Her knees felt
weak and rubbery. Her stomach fluttered with sensual awareness.

Dallas lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He set her down and switched on the
bedside lamp, then took her mouth again. Her sweet response made his body coil tightly. He was
close to the edge. Too close. He wanted to push her onto the bed and shove himself inside her. With
supreme effort, he fought for control. He'd never lost control with a woman and he didn't plan on
starting now. Especially not now.

He deepened the kiss. Sliding his fingers through her hair, he smoothed the silky mass back toward
her neck, glided his hands down her back, learning her body, holding her close. Slowly, he moved his
exploration forward, tracing her ribcage, easing upward until he came to her full breasts. He liked
how her breath hitched as he brushed his thumbs across her nipples. He didn't like how she stiffened
when he unhooked her bra through the fabric of her t-shirt.

Gillian tore her mouth away and pulled out of Dallas's embrace. She took a step backward, dragging
air into her lungs. Delicious feelings swirled in and around her, mixed with fear and apprehension.
This was going too fast. She wasn't quite ready. She needed to regroup. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm a little
nervous here," she said. "Is there any way I could freshen up? It's been a long day, what with the
races, the heat, delivering the baby and all. I really could use a bath before we--uh, you know."

"Yeah, I know. We could both use a bath," said Dallas. "I'll tell you what. You can have the tub in
there and I'll use the shower in the mud room." He gripped her shoulders reassuringly and pressed a
gentle kiss on her lips. She trembled beneath his fingers. "Unless you want to bathe together?"

Gillian pulled back again. "To tell the truth, I haven't done this kind of thing in a long time. Right now,
I'd rather bathe alone. I'll take a rain check for a later date, if that's okay with you?"

"Make that a promise and it's okay with me. I'll show you where everything is." He led her to the
bathroom, handing her a towel and a robe he found in the closet. "Put this on when you're finished.
Meet me in the living room. We'll have a glass of wine and try to take this nice and slow. And
remember Gillian, we won't do anything you don't want to do." He kissed her quickly before closing
the door.

Gillian ran hot water in the tub. Pouring a capful of shampoo for bubble bath, she eased into the
blessed heat. She leaned back and let the warm water wash away her jitters.

She was nervous and a bit scared, but excited as well. This felt right. A tremendous weight seemed to
have lifted from her shoulders. She had thought she could never be close to a man again. But Dallas
had changed all that. Her body tingled with anticipation, and she hurried through the bath, drying
herself and slipping the robe over her nakedness. The soft terry cloth rubbed her sensitized flesh. The
thought of Dallas's hands and mouth on her body made her toes curl. After combing her hair, she
hurried to the living room.

Dallas waited on the sofa. The room was dim, with several candles flickering in the darkness. He
stood when she entered the room. He wore nothing but boxer shorts, his hair damp from his shower,
his skin gleaming in the candlelight.

Gillian swallowed the lump in her throat. The man was beautiful. Ropes of muscle rippled across his
wide chest. He wasn't as hairy as she had imagined, but a fascinating line of dark fuzz began at his
navel, disappearing into his waistband.

Her knees weakened when she saw the evidence of his desire straining against his shorts. Tightening
the belt of her robe, she took the glass of wine he offered.

Dallas resumed his place on the couch. "Sit down," he said, patting the cushion beside him.

Gillian took a sip of wine, gathered her courage and curled up beside him. He hooked his arm around
her shoulders and hauled her body next to his. With his bare feet propped on the coffee table, he drank
his wine, holding her close, caressing her arm.

She gradually relaxed and enjoyed the moment. She could feel Dallas's heartbeat, the steady rhythm
keeping time with her own. When she finished her wine, she slowly twirled the fluted glass by the
stem, watching the candlelight reflect on the shiny surface.

"Let me take that." Dallas placed both glasses on the table. Leaning back, he pulled Gillian on top of
him, positioning them both until they were reclining on the sofa. Gillian's heart was beating double-
time now. So was his. Dallas's face was only a couple of inches away. His crystal blue eyes searched
her face as his hands kneaded her bottom. His breath whispered against her lips, the tangy scent of
wine teased her nostrils.

With her elbows propping her up, Gillian's robe gaped open. She felt herself exposed and tried to
close it back.

"Don't hide yourself from me." Dallas pushed her hand away. He boldly cupped one breast as he
covered her mouth with a kiss.

Gillian felt herself free-falling as his tongue tangled with hers. He rasped his thumb across a nipple
sending a shower of electric currents cascading down her body. He jerked the robe away, leaving her

completely naked, wrapping his arms around her and crushing her to him, until they were bare chest to
bare chest.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer, consuming her with his mouth. His every
touch, his every move produced intense waves of pleasure. Gillian held on to his powerful shoulders,
riding the torrent of desire, pressing her breasts flat against his chest, moving to cradle her body more
snugly over his turgid length.

Suddenly, Dallas changed positions and she was lying flat on her back. He bent to suckle her, laving
his tongue around and around the rigid nipples, teasing and taunting, coming close to the rosy tips, yet
holding back.

Gillian squirmed beneath him, grasping his neck, arching her back, searching. "Please, Dallas--"

Dallas trailed his tongue over the curves of her breasts, stopping at the crest, licking quickly, then
blowing on the swollen nipples.

Gillian groaned with pleasure, then almost screamed when he took one nipple in his mouth and
sucked. She bucked under him and could feel him hard against her sensitive core. She reached
between their bodies, sliding her hand inside his waistband, clasping her fingers around him.

Dallas shuddered at her touch, then clamped his hand over hers and moved it away. "This will all be
over in a second, if you keep doing that."

"Take me now," she said, lifting up and kissing his lips. "I'm ready. I want you inside of me."

Dallas breathed deeply. "We're not going to do this on the damned couch." He kissed her quickly, then
scooped her in his arms and walked to the bedroom.

Gillian leaned her head on his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his muscled arms around her. He stooped
to pull back the comforter and gently set her on the bed. Peeling his shorts off, he lay down beside
her.

Taking her in his arms, he kissed her, making sweet maddening love with his tongue. His fingers
roamed over her body, cupping her breasts, moving over her flat tummy, settling between her legs.
She was everything he'd ever dreamed about, totally responsive to his every touch. He probed the soft
flesh of her womanhood with one finger. Gillian moaned with desire.

She was ready for him, but he wanted her more than ready. He moved his mouth downward, kissing
the base of her neck, the hollow near the collarbone. Gasping with pleasure, Gillian grasped his head
and held him close as he continued his descent.

He caressed her soft breasts, suckling gently, teasing them again and again, making her wild under
him. Then he moved lower. He kissed her belly button, licking the small indention, trailing hot kisses
toward the center of her being.

"Dallas?" Gillian looked at him questioningly.

"Relax, sweetheart. It's okay. I want to kiss you all over."

She lay rigid beneath his touch. He wondered if she'd ever been loved this way before. It gave him
intense satisfaction to know that he might be the first. He would do his damndest to make it good for
her.

He knelt between her legs, rubbing his hands down the length of them, caressing her thighs and calves.
He came back up and took her mouth with his, thrusting his tongue inside, claiming her, branding her
with a promise of much more.

She arched her back, lifting her body to meet his.

"Easy, sweetheart. There's no rush."

"But I want you. Now." She kissed him feverishly.

He pulled away and grinned wickedly. "I want you, too. But there's plenty of time. We have all night."

He trailed hot kisses across her tummy down to the triangle of dark curls, lightly touching the warm
flesh with his lips. She tasted like sweet femininity.

Gillian held her breath. No one had ever kissed her down there before. She'd been married true, but
her love life had been more like slam, bam, thank you ma'am. Dallas was doing things, making her
feel things, that were completely new and wonderful. She grasped the sheets with fisted hands,
opening her legs to him.

He didn't fail her.

As Dallas bent over her, their eyes locked. He kissed her soft curls, teased the swollen flesh, flicking
light touches in and around the delicate folds. Gillian's chocolate brown eyes darkened with desire.
Her breath came out in quick puffs.

Slowly sliding a finger inside her, he pressed his tongue against her inner core, caressing, stroking
until she was moving beneath him, finding the rhythm that would lead her over the edge. She fell back
against the pillows, squeezed her eyes shut, lifting her hips, writhing on the bed. Dallas increased the
pressure, doubling the strokes, until she moaned loudly and shattered beneath him.

Sensations exploded throughout Gillian's body. Shards of desire crashed along every nerve ending.
She drifted on the aftermath of rapture, amazed at the exquisite feelings pulsing through her
bloodstream.

Yet somehow, it wasn't enough. She wanted more. "Make love to me. I need you," she said, grasping
his shoulders, pulling his big body upward. She clasped her arms around his neck, sought the drugging
sweetness of his mouth, lifted her hips to meet his hardness. Seeking to fill the empty ache inside.

Dallas reached in the bedside drawer for protection. Tearing the packet with his teeth, he made
himself ready. His shaft throbbed as he nudged Gillian's legs apart with his knee and settled between
them. Her hands caressed him all over, frantic in her need for him.

Propping himself on his elbows, he tangled his fingers in her hair, traced her cheek and jaw with his
thumb, bent to drink from her lips. All the while, he rubbed his shaft against her soft warmth, probing
the hot flesh, taunting himself with the pleasure he would soon find.

The sexy little moans deep in Gillian's throat drove him close to the brink. Her fingers bit into his
shoulders, her mouth found his flat nipple and he groaned when she lapped and sucked.

It was too much. He gripped her hips and plunged his length inside her hot damp flesh. She accepted
all of him, her body sheathing him to the hilt.

Gillian arched her back, meeting him thrust for thrust. Dallas gritted his teeth when she wrapped her
legs around him and pulled him in even deeper.

Dallas raised himself above her, bracing his fists on either side of her head. The black tangle of her
silky hair spread across the pillow. Gillian's eyes were closed, her dark lashes whispered against her
ivory skin.

Suddenly, he needed to see the rich brown color of her eyes. He wanted to lose himself in their
depths, just as he was losing himself in her hot flesh. "Look at me," he said, his voice harsh with pent-
up passion.

Gillian opened her eyes, a soft smile curving her lips. She lifted her arms to stroke his chest, teasing
his nipples with feather-light touches, and slowly trailed her fingers along his jaw, cupping his face.

The precipice of fulfillment gaped before him. Dallas ignored it. He deliberately slowed his
movements, pulling his shaft almost free, holding himself above Gillian for a long moment, before
plunging deeply back into her gloved warmth. Again and again, he moved in and almost out, teasing
and taunting. He felt ready to burst, knew he couldn't last much longer. He wanted to prolong the
sweet torture a few minutes more.

Gillian clutched at his shoulders. "Dallas--" Her breath hitched as her body shuddered in another
climax.

That was all he was waiting for. Dallas hammered his body into her flesh, burying his shaft, impaling
himself until he balanced on the knife's edge. For one heart-wrenching moment, time stopped. Then
his arms buckled beneath him, as he felt himself exploding, splintering into a million pieces. He fell
off the precipice, spiraled downward through a sensual maelstrom, finally landing safely in Gillian's
warm embrace.

She bore his weight, loving the feel of his body pushing her down on the mattress. A feeling of
oneness melded them together. Dallas's hot breath fanned her ear as he lay on top of her, his head
resting above her shoulder. His arms came around her, hugging her tight, clasping her closer, branding
her as his.

Gillian had never experienced such complete fulfillment. She had lived her entire life not knowing.
She would never be the same again. She smoothed her hands over the muscled back, rubbing her
fingers up and down the entire length of his spine. A hot kiss on her shoulder sent tingles down to her
toes.

"I want you again," Dallas whispered in her ear.

He lifted his head, locking his gaze with hers. Nibbling her lips, he pressed gentle kisses at the
corners of her mouth, rocking his body, seeking deeper penetration.

A delicious heat ignited low in Gillian's tummy. Like a dormant volcano awakening, molten fire
smoldered at her core. She caught Dallas's teasing mouth in a mind-searing kiss, boldly plunging her
tongue inside, tasting, tempting, seducing.

He thrust hard and deep, his hands cradling the sides of her head, his eyes searching the depths of her
soul.

Increasing the tempo, he urged her toward the dizzying heights once again. Together, they executed the
steps of the primordial dance--advancing, retreating. Lunging, plunging. Gillian moved fluidly under
him. Their movements flowed in, out, and around one another. It was difficult to distinguish where
one body stopped and the other began. They were truly one, joined in the most primitive way.

His eyes bored into hers, devouring her with his need, consuming her very essence. She clasped her
arms around his powerful neck, thrilling to the touch of his muscles cording beneath her fingers.

"Let yourself go," he growled in her ear. "Come with me."

He rose above her, his strong arms balancing his weight, and made the strokes deeper, more forceful.
Gillian lifted her body and offered herself to his demanding urgency. With each hammering thrust, he
pushed her back against the mattress, only to rise again to propel himself even deeper into her moist
heat.

Sweat beaded on Dallas's upper brow. He strained against the tautness of his body. With one last
plunge, he fell on Gillian and emptied himself inside her.

Gillian felt herself floating, skimming along a sensual haze of pleasure. Dallas's heavy breathing
burned her ear as she held him in her arms.

"Wow," she whispered, kissing his rough cheek, tightening her hold on him.

Dallas turned his head and grinned sinfully. "Wow, yourself."

He eased himself away, then gathered her to him. She snuggled against his hard body and felt him drift
to sleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, his heart beating strongly in her ear.

As she lay in the afterglow of their lovemaking, his arms holding her close, Gillian knew without a
doubt that she had lost not only her heart, but her soul to the belligerent cowboy.

CHAPTER TEN

Dallas waited with Tyler at the Lubbock airport. Any minute, Cameron's flight was due. Flipping
through a magazine, he tried to ignore Tyler's teasing remarks. He had managed to ignore the taunts all
day. His patience was shot and Tyler stood in imminent danger of being pounded to a pulp.

"Look, damn it," Dallas said. "I'm not telling you anything about last night. Now back off."

"Must have been something," Tyler said, whistling under his breath. "Okay, okay--I'll shut up. But
before I do, just one more thing. Don't hurt her. There's something special about Gillian. I don't know
exactly what it is, but I know it when I see it, and I see it in Gillian."

Dallas didn't say anything. Of course, he didn't want to hurt Gillian. Hell, he didn't want to get hurt
himself.

He thought sleeping with her would get her out of his system. But now that he'd kissed her and
possessed her--damn, he didn't know what to think. Yes, he did. He wanted more. Needed more.
Couldn't get enough. He had never experienced anything remotely close to what had happened last
night. It scared the hell out of him.

He lost count of the times they made love during the night. Then this morning, she had invited him to
join her in the shower. Said she was calling in that rain check. He didn't know how they had kept from
slipping and falling in the tub when the passion flared between them. Thinking about it made him want
Gillian all over again.

"Hey, that's Cameron's flight being announced. Let's go." Tyler stood and stretched, then took off
toward the gates.

Dallas tossed the magazine and followed. Glancing at his watch, he knew it would be close to
midnight before they returned to the ranch. Too late to call Gillian. He gritted his teeth. Tomorrow
would be busy and so would the next day. He didn't know when he would get the chance to see her
again.

"Cameron, over here," Tyler called, spotting his brother in the crowd of passengers exiting the plane.

Cameron shouldered his way across the terminal. "Damn, that was a hell of a flight." He shook Tyler's
hand, then Dallas's. "Is Jessie okay? How's the baby?"

"They're fine," Tyler said. "How does it feel to be a father?"

"It hasn't quite sunk in yet," he said with a grin. He slapped Dallas's shoulder. "Thanks for being there
and helping Jessie. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, well--don't ever pull a stunt like that again," Dallas said. "I can't believe you went to Hawaii
of all places with Jessie so big and pregnant. You owe me big time."

"I know it." Cameron smiled. "Can you believe that I'm a daddy. I don't know the first thing about
babies. What am I going to do?"

"You'll wing it. Austin's done a good job with Kelsey. He can give you some pointers." Tyler threw
his arms over both brothers' shoulders. "Let's get your bags and head back home. We were up late last
night. Tonight's going to be even worse."

After battling the crowd at the baggage claim, Dallas led the way to the truck.

"I wish I could see Jessie now," Cameron said as he tossed his bag in the back of the pickup.

"Have to wait until tomorrow," Tyler said. "It's way too late tonight. You can go first thing in the
morning."

Cameron nodded and settled in on the passenger side. "So, bring me up to date on everything."

Tyler had been relegated to the back. He propped his arms on the tops of the front seat and leaned
forward. "Dallas has a girl."

"Oh, really?" Cameron glanced at his older brother. "Who's finally caught your interest?"

"Nobody you know." Dallas elbowed Tyler hard on the shoulder, shoving him back against the seat.

"Better watch that mouth of yours, Ty. If you don't, I'm going to shut it up for you."

"I'm trembling in my boots, big brother."

Dallas glanced at Cameron. "I was telling Austin the other day that we should have beaten the crap
out of him when we had the chance."

Cameron nodded. "Yeah, something needs to be done about him. I bet together we could take him if
we put our minds to it."

Tyler snorted. "It would take more than your minds to take me down."

"That's it," said Dallas, slowing the truck.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Tyler asked. "Okay, okay. I give, I give. I won't say another word about
Gillian."

"See that you don't." Dallas resumed his speed.

"Gillian, is it?" Cameron said. "Nice name. Nice girl?"

"Hell, now don't you start. There's nothing going on. She works at the drilling site. Nothing's going
on."

Tyler leaned forward again. "He spent the night with her last night."

Dallas shoved him back again. "Shut up." He glanced in the rearview mirror. Tyler grinned at him.
"I'm warning you!"

"I'll tell you all about it later, Cam," Tyler promised.

Cameron stared at Dallas. "I can hardly wait."

****

The next morning, Dallas pulled his truck into Kincaid's Garage for a fill up. Cutting the engine, he
climbed out of the cab and began pumping gas.

He hadn't seen Gillian since Saturday, and his body was edgy from wanting her. He needed to see her
again. Touch her. Taste her. Just be with her. He missed her, damn it!

If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was half in love with her. Not good. Not good at all.

The nozzle clicked off and Dallas went inside to pay. He cursed under his breath when he saw Nadine
Cooley sitting near the desk, drinking a soda, talking to Sam Garza.

"Hey, Good-looking!" She jumped up from her seat and almost spilled her drink.

Dallas caught her arm so the soda can stayed upright. He quickly released her and turned to Sam,
ignoring the way Nadine sidled up against him. "Here you go."

Sam took the bills and walked over to the old-fashioned cash register behind the desk. "I talked to
Jessie yesterday," he said over his shoulder. "She and the baby seem to be doing fine. I can't believe
you delivered that baby."

Dallas repressed a shudder. It still gave him the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it. "I can't either."

Nadine squeezed his arm. "You're a real live hero, Dallas. But you've always been my hero." She
rubbed her body against him.

Dallas stepped away from her, barely able to repress another shudder. "I have to get going."

Sam handed Dallas his change. "You think your sister will be coming anytime soon to see Jessie and
the baby?"

Dallas pocketed the coins. He had a sneaking suspicion Garza had a thing for his baby sister. "Don't
know for sure. I imagine she'll drive up from A&M as soon she can get away from school."

Sam nodded and avoided eye contact. "You'll probably see Jessie before I do. Tell her not to worry
about the garage. I have everything under control."

"Will do." Dallas made for the door, eager to get away. Nadine was one crazy woman. He didn't like
how she was always finding excuses to touch him. Talk about the heebie-jeebies.

Nadine tossed her empty soda can in the trash and caught Dallas's elbow, sliding her hand in its
crook. "Walk me to my car, will you? I want to tell you something."

Dallas stiffened at the contact. "Sure, Nadine. But make it fast. I'm in a hurry."

"It won't take long, sugar lips." She squeezed his biceps and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Dallas quickly pulled away and opened the door, waiting for her to pass in front of him. The woman
was nutty as a fruitcake.

He followed Nadine to her car. "What is it you wanted to tell me?" He glanced at his watch, then at
the woman.

She sighed and puffed out her lips in a pout. "I bet you're glad Jessie won't be staying in the ranch
house any longer."

Where was the woman going with that? "What do you mean?"

She leaned forward and played with the buttons on his shirt. "I mean, she must have made you
uncomfortable, reminding you about the drilling and all. I know how much you hate the drilling on
your land."

"I'm not crazy about it, that's for sure." He caught her hands and pushed her away. "I really need to be
going."

"Wait!" She blocked his path. "You know I'd do anything in my power to make you happy? You know
that, don't you, Dallas?"

He swallowed hard. The woman was downright scary sometimes. "Sure, Nadine. Whatever you say."

She kissed her fingertips, then pressed them against his lips. "You'll be very happy, very soon. I
promise." She backed away and opened her car door.

Dallas watched her pull onto the highway, then made his way to his truck. What the hell was that all
about? He started the pickup, trying to shake the weird feeling caused by the strange encounter.
Stranger than usual, even for Nadine.

****

A week later, Gillian woke from a sound sleep. She lay still, trying to listen for the noise that had
jarred her awake. There it was again. A low bawling outside her window. It took a minute to figure
out what had made the sound. Tiptoeing to the window, she peeked between the curtains. A small
black calf stood beneath the window of the trailer, calling to its mother. What was a cow doing on the
drilling site?

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Gillian looked beyond the small yard surrounding the trailer and
gasped. There wasn't just one cow on the drilling site. There was a herd of cattle. What was going
on?

The phone rang. Gillian picked up the receiver and dragged on a robe. Harold was on the other end of
the line.

"I'm up here on the platform," he said. "We've got trouble."

"I know. How did they get on the site?" Gillian asked.

"What do you mean, 'they'?"

"The cattle. You are talking about the cattle, aren't you?"

"Cattle? What cattle?" he asked. "God almighty, I see them now. There must be two hundred head
coming this way. Call McCade up at the ranch house. Those must be his cows. Hold on a minute."

Gillian looked out the window again. Several cows were grazing on the sparse grass near her trailer.
Looking closer, she saw the brands on their rumps. A circle within a diamond and the letters, DBR.
Diamondback Ranch.

Harold came back on the line. "You still there?"

"Yes, what's going on?"

"One of the men found a pair of wire cutters. Said he found it laying next to a fence post." He paused.
"Better call the sheriff."

A sinking sensation formed in the pit of her stomach. "The sheriff? Why?"

"The cutters are from McCade's place."

"Why do you think that?" Gillian didn't believe Dallas was responsible for sabotaging the drilling
operation. She hadn't believed it in a long time.

"They're clearly marked. We've got McCade now," Harold said.

"Dallas didn't do this, Harold. I know it wasn't him." But someone had done it, she thought. Who
could it be? She forced herself to focus on the business at hand. "If you weren't calling about the
cows, why did you call? What else is wrong?" Gillian watched the herd of cattle make its way
toward the equipment. So many large animals could do a lot of damage.

"One of the roughnecks got hurt and had to go to the hospital. Nothing serious. Just wanted you to
know," Harold said. "Listen, I've got to get some of the men and make sure those cows stay away from
the rig. Be sure to call the sheriff. And McCade."

"It wasn't him," she said again. "I'll call the sheriff anyway." Gillian hung up. She grabbed the phone
book and scanned the names and numbers. Someone was determined to stop the drilling. Harold was
convinced it was Dallas, yet she knew better. It was time to find out who was behind all of this.

Gillian quickly found the number of the sheriff's office and punched it in. She explained what was
going on. The deputy sounded sleepy. Guess they didn't get many calls at four in the morning. She
hesitated before making the next call.

The night she had spent with Dallas burned in her memory. The passion they shared scorched her
soul. She had fallen in love with him against her better judgement.

It had been more than a week since she had heard from him. Why hadn't he called? Why had he kept
away? Did he regret their lovemaking? Had it meant nothing to him?

She wondered what he would think when he found out he was being accused of sabotaging the rig.
She would know soon enough. Taking a deep breath, Gillian dialed the ranch.

Dallas answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of the deep sleepy voice. "Hey, it's me," she said. "Something's
happened up here on the site. You need to come as soon as you can."

"Are you all right?" Dallas asked. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she said, hearing the concern in his voice soothed away some of her fears. Did he care for
her even only a little? Her throat ached with longing and hurt. Hearing his strong voice, knowing how
he must look in his bed, just waking up--a yearning washed through her body. "Could you meet me at
my office? Please?"

"You mean now?" he asked. "What's going on?"

Gillian felt like crying. How could he sound concerned one minute, then irritated and impatient the
next? She should never have let their relationship go so far. Dallas didn't want her love. He'd made
that clear from the start.

"Some of your cattle are on the site," she said.

"Hell," he muttered. "A fence must be down. I'll be right over." The receiver clicked in her ear.

Gillian quickly dressed. She ran a brush through her tangled hair. Her hand trembled with the motion.
Tossing the brush on the counter, she clutched both hands in her lap trying to still the tremors. She had
to face Dallas. Pretend that nothing had happened between them, because she was certain he regretted
everything. Somehow, some way, she would get through this.

****

In the cramped space of her office, Gillian almost cowered at the sight of the big man towering over
her. She took a deep cleansing breath. Dallas had every right to be angry. No one liked to be accused
of wrongdoing, especially when they were innocent.

His eyes glittered fiercely down at her. "You thought I was responsible for this fiasco?"

Gillian hesitated. "Dallas, I--"

"Never mind. I have my answer." He turned to the sheriff. "Better arrest me, Roland. Seems like I've
been tried and convicted without a judge or jury."

"No, wait!" Gillian grabbed the sleeve of Dallas's shirt. "I know you didn't do it."

Dallas looked down at her. "You never thought it was me?"

Gillian squeezed his forearm, the muscles hard under her fingers. She couldn't lie to him. "In the
beginning, I thought you might be responsible. I was new to the job. I didn't know you very well."

Dallas jerked his arm away. He looked at Harold. "You think I'm guilty, too. Don't you?

Harold didn't waver from the penetrating gaze. "Sure looks that way."

"At the jubilee," Dallas continued, "when you were called away to the site. You thought I was
responsible for that trouble, too. Didn't you?"

"You're the only one with any kind of motive," Harold said. "You've made no secret about how you
feel with us drilling on your land."

"Yes, everyone knows how I feel," Dallas said. "Tell me one thing. How do you think I pulled off all
these 'accidents'?"

"You have someone on the inside doing the dirty work," said Harold. "Someone who used to work for
the Diamondback Ranch."

Dallas frowned. "Dunbar."

"Exactly," Harold said.

"Let me see those wire cutters," Dallas said to the sheriff.

Roland took them from a large plastic bag and handed them over.

Dallas stared at the cutters and frowned.

"You've been clever covering up your tracks," Harold said, taking the cutters from Dallas. He turned
them over and pointed to the identification marks on the handle. "Here's the proof I've been waiting
for. Right here. MC. McCade. Can't deny it, can you?"

The sheriff grabbed the cutters. "Those aren't--"

Dallas interrupted him."Looks like you're going to have to book me, Roland."

"I'm not arresting you," the sheriff protested. "You know those marks belong to--"

"Just do it." Dallas held his wrists out. "Might as well make it look good."

He caught Roland's eye. Gillian saw a look pass between the two men. What was going on?

"Hell, Dallas. You know this isn't necessary." The sheriff hesitated before clapping the handcuffs on
him.

Harold looked from one man to the other. "McCade, those are your marks, aren't they?"

Gillian could see Harold's uncertainty. He had been so sure Dallas was guilty. The sheriff's reaction,

as well as Dallas's, was unexpected. Doubt furrowed Harold's brow. "Look, if there's been some
mistake--"

"Don't worry," Dallas said. "I promise justice will be served." He glanced at Gillian before walking
toward the door.

She had the distinct impression she was witnessing a play or a farce. Dallas was acting a role, forcing
the sheriff to play along. Everything seemed unreal.

"I'm going with you," she said.

Dallas stopped at the door and slowly turned. "I don't think so. You've played your part."

Gillian recoiled from the contempt in the blue eyes. Everything they had shared together disintegrated
in an instant. He would never forgive her for doubting him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. For a second, something flickered in his gaze. It was gone just as fast.
Gillian watched him walk out the door and out of her life.

****

Dallas sat in the sheriff's office, sipping a cup of coffee. He tried to ignore the ache in his heart, the
sick feeling in his stomach. He couldn't believe Gillian had believed him capable of sabotaging the
rig. She might as well have stabbed him in the back. How could she have thought such things, even in
the beginning, yet laid with him in bed sharing the most incredible night of his life? He had thought
she was different from other women. Now he knew better.

"Need a refill?" Roland reached for the coffee pot.

Dallas held his cup out. "Sure."

Roland sat back down at his desk. "How long are we going to play this little charade out? Those
wire-cutters don't belong to you. That MC stands for Malcolm Cooley, not McCade, and you know it.
Everything on the Diamondback is marked with your brand."

"You know it and I know it. The people at the rig don't know it. They think I'm responsible. We need
something more substantial to prove who really did it. I don't think we'll have long to wait," Dallas
said. "You went to the cafe and told Sarah Sue what happened, didn't you?"

"Yeah. She looked at me like I was crazy. I wouldn't be surprised if half the town isn't in here
protesting your arrest and offering to post your bail."

"We're just waiting for one certain person to show up," Dallas said. "If my hunch is correct, and the
news of my arrest spreads fast, we should be out of here before lunch." He glanced out the window,
then sat back. "Make that breakfast. The show is about to begin."

Nadine Cooley threw the door wide open, rushed into the sheriff's office and searched the room with
a wild look in her eye. "No, no, no!" she said, when she spotted Dallas. "What have you done? This
wasn't supposed to happen. Why have you arrested Dallas?" She glared at Roland.

"Someone has been trying to stop the drilling at the rig," said the sheriff. "Dallas is responsible."

"It wasn't Dallas." Nadine stood in the middle of the office, wringing her hands together. "Of course,
it wasn't Dallas. He would never do something like that." She ran over to Roland and tugged at his

sleeve. "It was me. I wanted to make those people leave the ranch. I wanted Dallas to be happy again.
I thought maybe he would love me a little because I helped get rid of them."

She released his arm and went to kneel beside Dallas's chair. "All I wanted was for you to be happy.
I live to make you happy." She frowned at Roland. "You've ruined everything! How can Dallas be
happy in jail? Release him at once. He didn't do anything wrong."

Dallas eased his frame from the chair, helping Nadine to her feet. He felt sorry for the woman. She
lived in a fantasy world. "Nadine, who was helping you? You didn't do all those things at the rig by
yourself."

Nadine sniffed and opened her purse searching for a tissue. "No, I didn't do them. I have a partner. He
wants to help you, too. I can't tell you his name. I'm not a tattle-tale." She wiped a tear from her eye.

"You need to tell the sheriff who helped you," Dallas said. "What you did was against the law. Your
partner broke the law. Everyone thinks I did those things. You don't want that, do you?"

Nadine sat in the chair, twisting the tissue into a tight screw. "They'll know it wasn't you when they
find out the truth. You're innocent. Let him go, Roland. Put me in jail. I'd do anything for Dallas. Even
go to jail."

"I don't want you to go to jail," Dallas said. "I want to help you."

She smiled through her tears. "You do? Really?"

"Yes, and the only way I can do that is for you to tell me the name of your partner."

Hanging her head, she sighed. "I can't."

"Nadine--" He turned sharply as the door burst open and Allen Dunbar came tumbling in, tripping and
falling to his knees. Dallas watched his three brothers march into the office and slam the door behind
them.

Austin hauled Dunbar to his feet. The former ranch hand sported a black eye and torn shirt. Tyler's lip
oozed blood. Cameron's knuckles were scraped. Austin stood in the middle of the room with a scowl
on his face and a death-grip around Dunbar's neck.

"Thought you might need some help," Cameron said, stepping beside Austin. "Ease up, will you?
Don't want to actually kill the bastard."

Austin shrugged and let go. "Sarah Sue called and told us you'd been arrested and why. Tyler figured
Dunbar might be at the bottom of all this, since he's been making veiled threats ever since you fired
him."

"Didn't take much to get the truth out of him." Tyler wiped his bleeding mouth on the sleeve of his
shirt. "Had to rough him up a bit. Enjoyed it, too. Never did like the son of a bitch."

Nadine ran toward Dunbar. "Allen, what happened? You said you would take care of everything. But
everything is messed up. They think Dallas did those things at the rig. Tell them it isn't true. Tell them
we only wanted Copper River Oil to pack up and leave, so Dallas could be happy."

"I don't care if he's is happy or not. In fact, I hope he rots in hell." Allen eyed his former boss with
hatred.

"But you said . . . you agreed to help me . . ." Nadine bit her lip, looking lost and confused.

Allen turned his gaze on her. "I only helped you because I sure as hell didn't want them striking oil
and lining the McCades' pockets. Especially Dallas McCade."

"You got something against my brother?" Tyler said, grabbing Dunbar's collar. "You mess with one
McCade, you mess with us all."

"Let him go, Ty." Dallas stepped in front of Dunbar. "You know I don't own those mineral rights
where they're drilling."

"Oh, yeah. I know," he said. "But Jessie's a McCade now. Somehow, you'd benefit if they found oil."
Dunbar spat at his feet.

"What the hell have I ever done to you?" Dallas asked. "I hired you in good faith, kept you on for
years--"

"Then fired me for no good reason," Dunbar said.

"Hell, you were embezzling the ranch. You were siphoning off money right and left."

Dunbar shrugged a shoulder. "Like the high and mighty McCades would miss the little I was taking."

"Stealing is stealing," Dallas said. "I let you go without pressing charges last year. You won't be
getting off this time. Copper River Oil will prosecute."

"I'll see you in hell, McCade," Dunbar sneered.

Cameron, Austin, and Tyler stepped closer.

"Want us to rough him up some more?" Tyler glared at the man and flexed his fingers.

"I think Roland can handle it from here," Dallas said. "We'll take Nadine home. I need to talk to her
father."

"You mean I'm not going to jail?" Nadine asked.

Dallas caught Roland's eye and shook his head. "No, Nadine. You won't be going to jail."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Two weeks later, Gillian stared at the invitation lying on her desk. Jessie McCade's baby shower.
She picked it up and read it again. There was a personal message from both Jessie and Ruth begging
her to attend. And Cameron wanted to meet her and thank her for helping deliver the baby.

"What's that?" Harold asked, coming into the office. He grabbed a cold cola from the small

refrigerator next to Gillian's desk. "Want one?"

"What?" She looked up from the invitation. Conflicting emotions swirled inside her head, making it
difficult to concentrate. "No, thanks. Not right now." She tucked the card in the envelope and laid it
carefully aside. "The McCades have invited me to a shower for Jessie and the baby." She tried to
smile, but couldn't quite pull it off.

"Mighty nice of them, considering all that happened." Harold downed half the soda. "You going?"

"I don't know. I want to, but it's going to be awkward if Dallas is there."

"It'll be awkward no matter what. You should go. Not everyone gets to help in the miracle of a birth."

"It would be nice to see the baby again." Gillian smiled for real this time. "I guess I'll go."

"Good for you." Harold took another drink, then shook his head. "I sure hate how I miscalculated
about McCade. You kept telling me it wasn't him, but I wouldn't listen. I'm sorry I messed things up
for you."

Gillian shrugged. "It wasn't your fault. Anyway, at least we found out who was causing all the
accidents. And you were right about Allen."

"Yeah, but I thought he was working for McCade, not against him. Sad about that Cooley woman,
though."

"She'll be better off where she can receive professional help. Dallas told me she had been unstable
for a long time."

"Still sad," he said. "Well, I need to get back to the rig." He heaved himself from the chair and threw
the can in the trash. "Have you decided whether we're going to keep drilling or throw in the towel?"

"I'm still studying the charts and numbers," she said. "I should know something by the end of the
week."

After the door closed behind Harold, Gillian picked up the invitation and stared at it. Two weeks had
passed since that early morning confrontation with Dallas over the cows. The horrible sick feeling in
the pit of her stomach had faded a little, but the sensation of being caught in the middle of a bad dream
still haunted her. During the day, she went through the motions of working and living and eating. It
was relatively easy to fake it when she was awake. Sleeping was the hard part.

At night, images of Dallas rose before her, weaving a magical web. She would relive every touch,
every kiss they'd shared. Then she'd remember his brutal rejection, and the sick feeling would come
crashing down on her all over again. His anger and contempt pierced her heart. Every night, she cried
into her pillow until finally, she would fall into a fitful doze only to reawaken and the cycle would
start again.

How many times over the last couple of weeks had she wanted to see Dallas? Try to explain that it
had all been a mistake? Only in the beginning did she think he might have been guilty of any
wrongdoing. It hadn't taken long to figure out he wasn't that kind of man. It hadn't taken long for her to
fall in love with him. But he didn't want her love. He didn't want to get involved. Thinking about
going to him and apologizing made her knees weak. She chickened out every time.

The invitation in her hand would force her to gather her courage and see the McCades again. If Dallas

was there, then she would make him listen to her. At the very least, she would tell him she was sorry.

Tucking the card in a drawer, Gillian turned to the computer. She studied the figures and graphs on the
screen, making notes and calculations. Everything pointed to a no go. A dry well. Soon, she would
have to decide whether they would forge ahead or call it quits.

Time was running out. For Copper River Oil. And for herself.

****

The day of Jessie's shower dawned bright and hot. Gillian awoke with a feeling of impending doom
and gloom. She cringed at the thought of seeing the McCades again. They had been so friendly and
welcoming at the Founders' Day Jubilee. Gillian had felt like she was part of the family.

Such a short time ago, everything had been going her way. Dallas had extended his friendship and
more. They had shared the exhilarating experience of delivering a baby together. They had become
lovers. Gillian still felt shivers of excitement and desire when she thought of the night they'd spent in
each other's arms.

All gone in a split second. After years of avoiding men and relationships, Dallas had broken through
her barriers. Allowed her to let go of her fears. Allowed her to trust again. The chemistry between
them had sparked the first time they had met. It exploded that night at the hangar.

Gillian breathed deeply. She would go to Jessie's shower. If Dallas was there . . . well, she would
cross that bridge when she came to it.

Later that afternoon, Gillian found herself on the front porch of the big ranch house. She looked at the
white Shaker rockers, remembering sitting there with Jessie, waiting for Dallas to come with the truck
to take them to the hospital. Funny how quickly things changed. No, not funny at all.

She knocked on the door, curbing the urge to run back to her car and drive away. She was grown. She
was an adult. She could handle this.

The door opened. Laughter and conversation drifted from inside. Dallas was grinning as he reached
for the handle of the screened door. The smile vanished when he realized who was standing on the
porch.

Gillian's lungs nearly collapsed at the sight of his handsome face. She hadn't seen him in weeks. She
wanted to throw herself at him, feel his strong arms wrap around her. She wanted to hear him say that
everything was okay.

He stood and frowned at her in silence, making no motion to invite her in. His crystalline gaze bore
into her very soul. Accusation. Condemnation. Hurt.

"Dallas, I--"

He released the handle and turned away, leaving the door open.

Gillian bit back a sob. His earlier rejections had stung. This time his rejection was complete, the pain
bitter. He might as well have torn out her heart and crushed it beneath his boots. Swallowing the hard
lump in her throat, she knocked again. A pretty young woman appeared at the door.

"Did my brother leave you standing out here? How rude of him." She opened the screened door wide.

"I'm Tori McCade. You must be Gillian. I've heard so much about you. Come on in. The party is just
getting started."

Gillian followed Dallas's sister into the large living room. She placed Jessie's shower gift on the
coffee table along with the rest of the presents. The room was crowded with people talking in groups.
She recognized a few faces. Sarah Sue from the cafe. Sam Garza who had fixed her flat tire. Tyler
McCade stood near a table loaded with food. He waved at her from across the room. There was no
sign of Dallas.

Tori took her arm and propelled her toward an open doorway. "Jessie and Mother are in the kitchen.
So are half the guests. Isn't it funny how people like to congregate in the kitchen? I've never been able
to figure out why."

Gillian wondered if Dallas was in there. She didn't know how she could face his family with him
glowering at her from the sidelines.

"Gillian!" a happy voice cried. Before she knew what was happening, Kelsey McCade was hugging
her like a long-lost friend. "Come see my new cousin." The little girl grabbed her hand and tugged her
into the kitchen. "You'll be surprised how much he's grown."

Kelsey led Gillian to the head of the oak table where Jessie sat with the baby nestled in her arms.
Ruth sat on one side of her, Cameron on the other. At least, she assumed it was Cameron. He looked a
lot like Dallas, only with lighter colored hair. Austin leaned against the kitchen counter. Dallas stood
next to him. There were several people she didn't know.

"Here, take my seat," Cameron said, standing so Gillian could sit in his chair.

"Thanks." She slid into the seat and summoned up a smile. She could feel Dallas's eyes on her. "You
have a beautiful son," she said, focusing on the baby, determined not to let Dallas intimidate her.

"I understand I have you to thank," Cameron said. "Jessie couldn't sing your praises loud enough." He
bent to kiss the baby's forehead and gave Jessie a quick kiss, too.

Gillian's breath caught at the obvious love flowing between them. She couldn't help glancing at
Dallas. Wishing . . . She might as well be wishing for the moon. Dallas set his glass down and stalked
toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Ruth asked him. "You can't leave the party!"

"I'll be back in a few minutes. I need to check on something." He grabbed his Stetson from a hat rack
and crammed it on his head. The back door slammed behind him.

"Oh, my," Ruth said. "It's been like that ever since--" She hesitated, looking at Gillian, then shook her
head. "Well, never mind. I'm glad you could make it, dear. I'm sorry you and Dallas are on the outs,
but I'm happy you were here when the baby came. Jessie couldn't have done it without you. Dallas
either, for that matter."

Gillian nodded. "I'm glad I was here, too." She caught Jessie watching her and tried to smile. She felt
like crying and knew she needed to get a hold of herself. Reaching across the table, she smoothed the
baby's dark hair with trembling fingers, then grasped one of the tiny hands, willing herself to calm
down.

"I need to change his diaper," Jessie said. "Want to help?"

"I'll help! I'll help!" Kelsey said.

"You can help me," Tori McCade said, placing her hands on her niece's shoulders. "We have to see if
everything is ready in the living room." She steered Kelsey out of the kitchen.

Jessie stood and looked at Gillian. "Come on back with me. Please?"

"Okay." Gillian followed her down a long hall into a cozy bedroom with a four-poster bed covered
with a handmade quilt. A bassinet stood in one corner.

"I thought you were staying at your house in town," Gillian said, eyeing the bassinet.

"We are, but Ruth likes everyone to be comfortable. Especially this little guy," she said, laying the
baby on a changing table. "She bought the bassinet and a baby bed, too. Nothing's too good for her
new grandson."

Gillian sat on the bed and watched Jessie with the baby. "You're very lucky. You have such a
wonderful family. Everyone is so nice and friendly."

"Everyone except Dallas. He isn't being very nice and friendly, is he?" Jessie looked over her
shoulder. "What in the world happened between you two? I'm not being nosy. Well, maybe a little. I
mean, you didn't really believe he was responsible for all that stuff happening at the rig, did you?"

"No. Yes. In the beginning, when I first arrived . . ." Gillian paused for a moment, then sighed. "I
didn't know him, you see. And his attitude when we first met . . . He could barely talk about the
drilling without choking. He was extremely antagonistic."

Jessie shrugged one shoulder. "Dallas never has been Mr. Congeniality."

Gillian took a deep breath. "No, but he was actually hostile toward me. Then, when he brought you to
my office to sign those papers, he said that he'd do anything to get Copper River Oil off his land. What
was I supposed to think?"

"He said that?" Jessie asked. "But he would never . . . What else did he say?"

"Nothing. He kissed me." She stared at her hands in her lap. It seemed ages ago. Almost like a dream.
Like it never really happened.

"He kissed you? There in your office?" Jessie looked at her in amazement. "I remember now. He was
so angry. I thought it was about the drilling. But it was you. He was in love with you even then."

Gillian shook her head. "No, he wanted me. There's a big difference. None of this matters anyway. He
won't let me explain. Or apologize. He doesn't want me now."

Jessie finished diapering the baby and sat in the rocker Ruth had so thoughtfully provided. "Look, I've
never seen Dallas look at a woman the way he was looking at you at the jubilee and at the hospital.
He was positively glowing with happiness for a week after the baby was born. I think he's in love
with you."

"Not anymore. He thinks I betrayed him. I can't help what I thought about him at first. I made a
mistake."

Jessie stopped rocking the baby. "It has always been difficult for Dallas to forgive. Believe me, I
know. He's just now forgiving me for all that mess with the mineral rights. Give him a little time. You
have to make him listen to you."

Gillian twisted her hands in her lap. "I don't have much time left."

"What do you mean?"

"The well is dry. We'll be closing down the rig. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Jessie laughed. "I'm not sorry. Do you know how much grief I've caused this family because
of the drilling? What a relief! Well, this should certainly make Dallas more receptive to your
apologies."

Gillian sighed. "I don't think he'll ever forgive me. Besides, I'll be moving on soon."

"Do you want to move on?" Jessie asked quietly. "You love him, don't you?"

"That's not the point, is it?"

"If Dallas asked you--"

Gillian shook her head. "He won't ask."

Jessie frowned. "Does he realize you're leaving?"

"I haven't told him yet." Moving from the bed, Gillian squatted near the rocker, rubbing the sleeping
baby's cheek with one finger. "I'm glad I could help with the baby, Jessie. I'm glad I met you and your
family."

"Don't talk like that," Jessie said. "You sound like we're never going to see you again. Dallas loves
you, even though he won't admit it. And you love him. It'll work out some how."

Gillian slowly rose, shaking her head. "I don't think so. Maybe I shouldn't have come to the shower.
I'm making everyone uncomfortable."

"No, you're not. I'm happy you came. And Cameron wanted to meet you. When Dallas sees that we're
still friends, maybe it'll help him come around."

Tori stuck her head in the room. "What are you two doing in here? Talking about my big bad brother?"

Gillian blushed, keeping her eyes on the baby.

"Which one?" Jessie said, with a laugh. "All of your brothers are big and bad."

"Don't I know it." Tori rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "All right, time to party. Don't you want to open
your gifts?" she asked Jessie.

"Sure, just give me a minute. I'll be right there."

"Come on," Tori said to Gillian. "I'll protect you from Dallas."

Gillian looked at Jessie helplessly as Tori dragged her off to join the others.

****

Dallas quietly slipped into the living room, where everyone was gathered. He did a quick survey of

the guests. On the other side of the room, Gillian sat on a folding chair, her back ramrod straight, her
smile strained. She held a cup of punch tightly in her hands, holding on to it as if it were a lifeline.

Their eyes met for a brief second. Gillian's mocha-colored gaze held longing and sadness. She broke
contact, focusing her attention on Jessie and Cameron seated on the couch.

Dallas didn't want to think what she might see in his own eyes. He didn't know what he felt. Anger.
Hurt. And desire, damn it. For a moment, he forgot about Gillian's betrayal. Forgot he had sworn
never to think about her again.

Christ, she looked good. He had never seen her in a dress before. He thought she had looked sexy in
those tight khakis, t-shirt, and hiking boots. That was nothing compared to the yellow sundress and the
dainty white sandals she had on now. That dress begged for him to slip his fingers under the thin
straps, push them from her silky shoulders, trace the fabric across her full breasts . . .

He ordered himself to stop his wayward thoughts before he acted like a fool. Leaning against the
doorframe, he pulled his gaze away from Gillian and watched Jessie open presents. Everyone oohed
and aahed over each tiny bootie and soft fuzzy blanket. Even his brothers exclaimed over the gifts.

It was downright embarrassing. Men shouldn't have to go to these things, he thought. They usually
didn't. Weren't even invited. But this was no ordinary baby shower. It was more of a welcome-the-
new-McCade-into-the-family kind of party. Hell, half the county was here. Jessie had a lot of friends
and people were glad Cameron was back in Salt Fork. He'd been away a long time, but now he was
the resident doctor in town.

"Okay, pass that blanket around and open the last gift," Tori said. "Then we can eat. I'm starving."

"Spoken like a true McCade. Blunt and to the point." Sam Garza lifted his glass in mock salute.

Dallas saw his baby sister lift her chin, a martial light shining in her deep blue eyes. Tori handed
Jessie the gift, then looked at Sam. "I'd rather be blunt and to the point, than talk in circles and leave
people in the dark about what they're thinking or feeling."

"Tori," Ruth said. "You mustn't say such things. Especially with a house full of guests."

Tori continued to stare at Sam. A fleeting emotion flashed across his face. He nodded, then slowly
smiled, raising his glass to her once more.

Dallas had the distinct impression that a gauntlet had been thrown down. He wondered again what
was going on between those two. He didn't know how he felt about his little sister being involved
with a man.

Hell, he didn't know anything about his feelings these days. Ever since Gillian had arrived on the
scene, nothing had been the same. Feelings and emotions, alternating between rage and hostility,
desire and ecstasy, betrayal and hurt, had him jumping like a puppet on a string. He didn't care for the
situation at all.

After the last gift was opened and exclaimed over, the guests migrated toward the food. Dallas wasn't
hungry and he certainly wasn't in the mood to mingle. Besides, he'd never been the social type. His
reluctance to join the party had nothing to do with Gillian's presence. Right, McCade.

Quickly and quietly, he let himself out the front door. He stayed on the porch and leaned on the

railing, looking at the stand of mesquite trees bordering the yard, the fields of cotton in the distance.
Wondering if his life would ever get back to normal. Almost forgetting what normal was.

The squeak of the screen door made his shoulders stiffen. He knew who it was without turning his
head. From the corner of his eye, Dallas watched Gillian's cautious approach.

He fought the overwhelming urge to gather her in his arms and kiss the wary look from her eyes. A
fierce yearning slammed his gut, blind-siding him and making his heart hammer in his head. He tried
not to remember how her supple body felt next to his. How her fingers had explored his chest, trailed
rivulets of awareness down his stomach, dipped into his navel, then closed around him, bringing him
to a pitch of frenzied passion.

Gillian stood beside him. Close enough to smell her unique blend of vanilla and femininity. Far
enough away to emphasize the barriers that had risen between them. Silence hung heavy between
them. She stared straight ahead, her eyes searching the distance, before she finally turned toward him.

Dallas hitched a hip on the wooden railing and crossed his arms. He waited for her to speak. A
heaviness lay deep inside his chest, threatening to erupt and consume him. What was it about this
woman that caused him to feel everything so intensely?

He focused on her mouth. That was a mistake. When she bit the full bottom lip, he almost groaned,
remembering her taste, her response to his kisses. When her brown eyes found his, Dallas struggled
for breath. The wanting was a living, pulling thing between them. He refused to succumb to her
seductive lures. She was just a woman. Like all the rest of the treacherous breed. He should have
learned his lesson from his ex-wife. He should never have allowed himself to give in to temptation.
But Gillian was sexy enough to tempt a saint. He'd never considered himself saintly.

"Why did you come here?" he asked.

"I wanted to see the baby. And your family. I wanted to see you," she whispered, then lifted her chin.
"You never let me apologize. I'm sorry for what happened."

"Me, too. Sorry I ever laid eyes on you."

Gillian flinched, but kept her chin raised. "Well, that makes two of us, doesn't it?" She knew it was a
lie, but refused to let him see her hurt. "You'll be happy to know I won't be around much longer. Your
wish has come true. Copper River Oil is pulling out. There's not enough oil and gas to justify
expenses. We'll be off your property by the end of the month. I'll make sure we leave the land intact.
At least I can do that much. Good bye, Dallas."

She pushed away from the railing, walked across the porch, across the yard to her car. Never looking
back. Dallas watched her drive away, feeling like he'd been sucker-punched in the gut.

Cameron came out of the house. "You going to let her go? Just like that?"

Dallas nodded.

"You know," Cameron said, leaning against the porch rail, "it's damned scary to let someone get
close. But guess what? It's a hell of a lot scarier to think of living the rest of your life without the
woman you love. The one who loves you back."

"Love has nothing to do with this," Dallas said.

"Doesn't it?" Cameron raised a brow. "Gillian has the look of a woman in love."

"How could she love me when she thought I was trying to shut down the rig? You've got to trust
someone in order to love them. She thinks I'm a vengeful, scheming, dishonest--"

"Maybe she did at first," Cameron said, interrupting him. "She told Jessie she had her doubts in the
beginning. That was before she knew you. You aren't exactly charming when you're angry. Remember
how you lit into Jessie when Copper River Oil first moved onto the land? I still cringe when I think
about it."

"Look, I told Jessie I was sorry. I can't change the past," Dallas said. "Besides, none of that matters
anymore. Copper River is pulling out."

Cameron smiled. "Congratulations. Everything can get back to normal now."

Dallas rubbed the back of his neck. "Funny thing. I can't remember what normal is anymore."

"Because your normal was just a state of being. You were existing, not living. Gillian changed all
that," Cameron said. "Don't let her go. Swallow your pride. Go after her. Grab a little happiness. You
deserve it."

"I don't know if I can." Dallas stared down the road.

"Gillian isn't Marilyn," Cameron said. "Don't punish her for Marilyn's sins. A good woman is hard to
find. Don't throw away this chance. Go after Gillian."

****

Dallas stood on the ridge overlooking the drilling site. A month had passed and Gillian had been as
good as her word. There was little evidence left that Copper River Oil had been drilling on the
Diamondback Ranch. Gillian's men had bulldozed the area, graded it out, and planted new grass and
sagebrush. They'd completely covered their tracks. He wondered if they always left abandoned wells
like that. Or had Gillian taken extra care with this particular site like she'd promised. An odd
sensation settled in his stomach at the thought.

Lifting his Stetson, Dallas ran his fingers through his hair. He should have been happy. Ecstatic.
Walking on air. Four months ago, his most fervent desire had been that Copper River Oil wouldn't
strike oil. He'd been granted that wish. Copper River was gone, but so was Gillian.

God, he missed her. His whole body ached with missing her.

Was Cameron right? Was he punishing Gillian for Marilyn's sins? Punishing himself for his mistakes?
The years since his divorce had been wasted. After Marilyn left, Dallas had avoided women like the
plague. He had loved his wife, or so he'd thought. That youthful love couldn't compare to the all-
consuming passion he felt for Gillian.

From the beginning, he had fought the feelings for her. Recognizing danger when he saw it, he had
guarded his heart with a vengeance. Only to have Gillian inch her way in bit by bit. She hadn't turned
his world topsy-turvy. She had righted it. Made it good again.

Now she was gone, and he only felt half alive. Two parts, one whole. That's how he felt about
Gillian. Part of himself was here on the ranch; the other part was in Los Angeles where Gillian lived.

Dallas was tired of fighting his feelings. He was tired of fighting a losing battle. In spite of
everything, Gillian had managed to capture his heart. Did she still love him? Was it too late? He'd
acted like a bastard towards her. Unfortunately, he did that a lot where Gillian was concerned.

Slamming his hat back on his head, he strode to his truck. He needed to go to Los Angeles as soon as
possible. Luckily, he knew a pilot with a plane ready to fly at a moment's notice.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Gillian raised the metal watering can over the hanging basket, giving her new spider plant a healthy
sprinkle of water. Charlotte was the first plant she had bought in years. Her job had required
extensive traveling, so she'd never bothered with plants or pets, because they were too much trouble.

Had required . She had quit her job with Copper River Oil Company. After the fiasco in Salt Fork,
she didn't care if she never saw another drilling site for the rest of her life. There was plenty of time
for plants now. Maybe she'd get a dog.

It was time to regroup. She had money in savings to see her through for a while. Give her time to find
a new job. Maybe go back to school. Maybe think about settling down. But the thought of settling
down with anyone other than Dallas tugged at her heartstrings.

He'd rejected her. He hadn't wanted her love. He'd warned her he wasn't interested in love. She
should have guarded her heart more closely. Instead, she had foolishly fallen in love with Dallas
McCade. And he believed she'd betrayed him. His pride and integrity had been questioned. He would
never forgive her. She would never forgive herself.

Setting the watering can in the kitchen sink, Gillian wiped her hands on a towel. Somehow, someway,
she would get through this. She had always done so before. She would do it again. She was used to
being on her on. Used to being alone.

With a long sigh, she hung the towel to dry. Before she met Dallas, she'd never felt lonely. Well, she
would learn to live with that, too.

A loud banging on the door startled her from the melancholy thoughts. She groaned as she looked
down at her tattered t-shirt and sweatpants. She wasn't exactly dressed for company. Her feet were
bare and she wasn't wearing a bra. Hopefully, she could get rid of whoever it was.

Gillian pressed her eye to the peephole. Her breath hitched and she jerked back, clutching a hand over
her heart to still its tremors. She grabbed the doorknob to take another peek, bumping her forehead in
the process.

Yes, it was Dallas all right. There he stood, on her front step, his hands behind his back, that
proverbial frown on his handsome face, his black Stetson sitting on his head.

God, he looked good!

He knocked again, rattling the door. "Come on, Gillian. Open up. I heard you bump against the door. I
know you're in there. Let me in."

"Why should I?" she called. Something very close to hope crept along the base of her spine.

"So I can see you. Talk to you. We need to talk."

"No, I mean why are you here?" Gillian rubbed her aching head. Part of her wanted to yank the door
open and fling herself in his arms. Another part warned to tread carefully. Dallas was a difficult man
at best.

"I think that would be obvious, sweetheart."

Through the peephole, Gillian saw that almost-smile of his. Her heart turned a somersault.

"Give me two minutes to change. I'm not decent," she said, glancing at her shabby clothing again. If
Dallas was here to sweep her off her feet, she didn't want to be in rags. And if he was here for some
other reason, a change of clothes would give her an added boost of confidence. Something she sorely
needed when dealing with him.

"Hell, I don't mind," Dallas said. "I like you that way. The more indecent, the better. Open up."

"Two minutes, Dallas. Please?"

"Oh hell," he growled. "All right, but hurry."

She was running to her bedroom before he finished the sentence. Stripping off her t-shirt and sweats,
she threw on a thin silk caftan. She grabbed a brush and pulled it through her hair. She didn't have
time for make-up, only a dab of lip-gloss.

Gillian ran back to the door and opened it. She was rewarded for her hasty efforts. Dallas stood there
staring at her; his eyes flared with appreciation and hunger. Her skin tingled all the way down to her
bare toes from the pure male appraisal, and her heart hummed with optimistic anticipation. He was
here. She couldn't believe he'd come.

She leaned on the doorframe, her stomach fluttering madly. "Would you like to come in?" she said,
her voice just a bare whisper.

His mouth tugged upwards in the half-smile she loved so well. "Yes, ma'am," he said. Except he
didn't move. He took his time admiring her from the top of her head all the way down to her bare feet.

The air sizzled between them. Gillian felt her nipples tighten. Dallas's eyes shimmered in response.

"You going to stand there all day, Cowboy?" she asked. "I thought you wanted to come in."

Dallas took two long strides, stopping only inches away from her. The heat from his powerful body
seared through the gossamer fabric of her gown. Her knees wobbled from his nearness. With a firm
grip, she held on to the door to keep from melting at his feet.

"What are you hiding behind your back?" she asked. The fluttering in her stomach increased. Her heart
pounded even harder than before.

"I brought you something." Extending his left hand from behind his back, Dallas presented his gift with
a flourish.

"Cotton Candy? I don't understand." She searched his face as he handed the bag of pink fluff to her.
His hand brushed her palm. An electric charge jolted up the entire length of her arm.

"Remember at the jubilee?" he said, his voice deep and husky. "We called a truce that day."

Gillian nodded, feeling tears crowd the corner of her eyes. "You want to call another truce?" She
looked at the sugary confection, thinking about the wonderful time they had shared at the Founder's
Day Jubilee, wondering if they would share more good times.

Bringing his right hand from behind his back, Dallas waved a small white flag under her nose. "Not a
truce, exactly. More like a treaty--a complete and total end of all hostilities between us."

Gillian swallowed the lump in her throat. Hope and desire struggled deep inside. "But you swore you
would never be the one to surrender."

Dallas gently placed the flag in her hand. His fingers closed over hers, before he gathered her in a
fierce embrace. "I was a fool," he said. "I'm surrendering my heart to you, if you'll have me." He
lowered his head and touched his lips to hers.

"Oh, Dallas! Yes!" Gillian dropped the candy and flag and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her
enthusiastic response warmed Dallas's heart and soul. He cupped her bottom and hauled her closer.
Once again he was amazed at how perfectly her body fit his. Her softness complimented his hardness.
Damn, he'd missed her.

She smelled wonderful and felt even better. Plunging his tongue deep inside her mouth, he tasted her
sweetness. She opened to him and he deepened the kiss. The sexy little sounds erupting in the back of
Gillian's throat made his heart hammer in response.

Gillian snuggled into the embrace, adjusting the fit of their bodies, rubbing against his aching-hard
shaft. He groaned when she pressed her firm breasts to his chest. Her nipples teased him through the
filmy material of her gown.

His hands roamed over her supple body, rediscovering every swell and curve. He brushed a thumb
across one nipple, swallowing Gillian's moan with another kiss.

"I want you, Gillian. I need you. It's been too long."

She pulled back, and stared at the man who had captured her heart. His rugged face was so dear.
She'd missed him dreadfully. "It's been much too long," she said. Taking his hand, she led Dallas to
her bedroom. They would talk later. For now, it was enough to know he was here. That he wanted her
as much as she wanted him.

Stopping by the foot of the bed, Gillian began unbuttoning Dallas's shirt, following the path of bare
skin with soft kisses. Dallas toed off his boots, reveling in the sensations of Gillian's touch, digging
his fingers in her silky hair. Gasping for breath when she dipped her tongue in his navel.

She pulled the shirttails from the waistband of his jeans, standing so she could push the fabric over
the rigid muscles of his shoulders. Unbuckling his belt, chocolate-colored eyes met deep ocean blue
ones. With gazes locked, Gillian unsnapped the jeans and slowly pulled the zipper.

Kneeling on the floor, she peeled the denim down his legs, caressing his thighs and calves with
feather-light touches. She waited for him to step out of each pants leg.

Glancing up, she caught his eyes again. They burned with desire and yearning. He placed his hands on
her head, burying his fingers in her silky hair. Thrilling tingles chased down her body as she stroked
his hardness through the thin cotton of his boxers. His shaft flexed in reaction; his fingers tightened on
her scalp.

Gillian traced the rigid length with her tongue, cupping him down below with her hands, feeling him
tremble with need. She pulled the shorts down, kissing the velvet steel, taking him gently in her mouth.

Dallas almost collapsed in a heap. He locked his knees so he wouldn't fall, enjoying Gillian's
sensuous caress and wondrous touch. He was extremely close to the delicious edge of release. It
wouldn't take much more for him to explode. But he didn't want it this way. He wanted to be inside
Gillian's sweet warmth. Feel her clutch him with her inner muscles. With a feral groan, he pulled her
up and pushed her onto the bed.

He followed her down, pressing her into the soft mattress. Pulling her gown up over her head, he
tossed it aside, then covered her body with his own.

"I can't take it slow this time," he said, nuzzling the silky column of her throat.

"I don't want it slow." She slid her arms around his neck, lifting her body to meet his. "I want you
inside of me." She pulled him down and kissed him hard on the mouth, as he plunged his shaft deep
within her.

Together they rode the crest of passion. Hanging, hovering over the brink. Dallas buried himself in
her, pulling back only to thrust deeper still. He clasped both hands on either side of her head,
watching her as he drove into her again and again.

Gillian held on to the powerful biceps, meeting each thrust with a lift of her hips. She wrapped her
legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper on each downward thrust. Her nails bit into the muscled
arms. She closed her eyes as she reached the summit, her body splintering into tiny shards of exquisite
sensations.

Dallas heard her call his name. It faded in and out as if coming from far away. He felt her convulse
around him. With one last push, he collapsed on top of her as he reached his own shattering climax.

Neither spoke for several minutes. Gillian could hear Dallas's labored breath in her ear. She almost
cried from the gladness in her heart. She hugged the big powerful body to her, relishing the weight
bearing her down.

Closing her eyes tight, she felt hot tears on her cheeks. She couldn't help it. She had to say it. Tell him.

"I love you," she said, punching him on the shoulders to emphasize her words. Bucking her hips so he
would be sure to get her meaning. "I'm sorry about what happened at the rig. I love you, damn it. And
you better love me back!"

Dallas pressed her down even further into the mattress. He kissed the tear-drenched lashes. Hugging
her tighter, he rolled over until she was on top of him. "I came after you, didn't I? I surrendered, didn't
I?"

Gillian leaned on her elbows, kissed the firm chin. "Say the words, Dallas. I need to hear the words."

"I love you." He pulled her closer for a quick hard kiss. "I can't believe how much I love you, how
much I need you. After the crew cleaned up and pulled out, I should have been happy, but I wasn't.
You were gone. I realized then that I'd fallen in love with you."

Gillian snuggled next to Dallas, her head on his hard chest, his heartbeat loud in her ear. She pulled
the sheet over them to cover their nakedness.

Dallas promptly kicked it off. "Not going modest on me, are you?"

Gillian laughed. "No, just force of habit, I guess."

She caressed the broad expanse of chest, running her fingers over the corded muscles. "How did you
find me? How did you know where I live?"

"Harold told me. I saw him at the diner a couple of days ago." He twirled a strand of her silky black
hair around one finger. "I wondered why he was hanging around. Thought he would take off now that
the rig closed down."

"Harold is staying in Salt Fork," Gillian said.

Dallas's finger stopped twirling. "Sarah Sue?"

Gillian nodded.

Dallas whistled under his breath. "Well, I'll be damned. She's finally got herself a man. Now, maybe
she won't be so busy trying to be a matchmaker anymore. What's he going to do? For a living, I
mean?"

Gillian snuggled closer. "He says he's going to buy one of those tool-selling businesses and drive a
truck all over the countryside. Says he'll still be a tool-pusher, only pushing a different kind of tool."

"Well, I'm happy for Sarah Sue," Dallas said.

"Me too." Gillian propped herself on her elbow. "You don't hold a grudge against Harold, do you?
You'll be seeing him in town a lot, you know. He's sorry for misjudging you. He truly is."

Dallas let out a sigh. "I'll make my peace with him, I promise. I don't want to be on the outs with
Sarah Sue's significant other."

Smiling, Gillian kissed him, before settling back down.

They lay together in companionable silence. Dallas realized he felt content for the first time in years.
Maybe for the first time in his entire life. Gillian made him happy. And she loved him. In spite of all
his faults, she loved him. And he loved her. He couldn't live without her. Wouldn't live without her.
He hugged her tighter against him. "You'll marry me, of course."

"Is that your idea of a proposal?" she asked. "Sounds more like an order to me."

"I'm not a 'get down on my knees' kind of guy. And yes, I'm asking you to marry me. Will you?"

Gillian propped herself up on an elbow and stared down at him. His blue eyes searched her face,
hope and wariness warring in their depths. She suddenly realized this big tough cowboy was as

vulnerable to her as she was to him. Leaning over, she kissed the tip of his nose. "Of course, I'll marry
you. Good thing I'm between jobs. That'll make it easier to move and all."

He looked surprised. "Between jobs? What do you mean? What about Copper River Oil?"

Gillian shrugged. "I quit. I'm looking for a new position. Think I have the qualifications for a rancher's
wife?"

Dallas grabbed her and pulled her to lie on top of him. "All the qualifications that I need. You're
beautiful, sexy, fun to be with--"

Gillian punched his chest. "Get real. I'm pretty much a city girl, you know. Do you honestly think I'll
make a good rancher's wife?"

"The best. You've worked with roughnecks for years, bossing them around," Dallas said. "There's
twenty or more ranch hands on the Diamondback. Same breed of man. Or close enough."

"That's right," Gillian said, getting into the spirit of the discussion. "And I have experience with
spreadsheets, word processors, data bases. I could help you with your accounts and bookkeeping."

Dallas nodded and nuzzled her ear. "That's not all you can help me with."

"And I adore your mother," Gillian continued, trying to ignore him, scooting back down his chest.
"There wouldn't be a problem living with her."

He kissed the top of Gillian's head. "We won't be living with my mother."

"We won't be living in the big house?"

Dallas shook his head. "Well, at first we will. I think it'll be better if we build a house of our own."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yes, sweetheart. I do."

Gillian thought about it. They were starting a new life together. Putting their pasts behind them.
Beginning anew.

She propped herself on an elbow again and looked deep into the crystal blue eyes. "Maybe, you're
right."

"Of course I'm right. And I know just the place."

"Where?" She traced the strong jaw line, loving the feel of the rough skin.

"There happens to be nice piece of land with newly planted grass. And a road that still goes to the
main highway."

"You can't mean the drilling site?" she asked. "You have bad feelings associated with that place."

"I also have good feelings, believe it or not. That's where a certain lady tool-pusher lived for the last
couple of months. You know--the one who was driving me out of my mind?"

Gillian poked him in the chest. "I was driving you out of your mind? I thought it was the other way
around."

Dallas caught her hand and brought it to his lips. "I guess it went both ways, sweetheart. I want to
build the house facing the rocky overhang. I like that particular view. What do you think?"

"It i s beautiful," she agreed. "And it would be nice to have our own place. Although, won't your
mother be lonely in that big house all by herself?"

"I don't think Mom will have time to be lonely. Tyler's there most of the time, and Tori comes home
from college between semesters. Besides, we'll be just down the road from her. Mom won't be
lonely."

Gillian ran her fingers down his shoulder and arm. "We'll probably be needing the extra room, too."

Dallas frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"I didn't want to mention this before, didn't want to break the mood. It completely slipped my mind.
And yours too, now that I think about it."

"What are you getting at, Gillian?" Dallas twisted a lock of the dark satin hair. He didn't think he
would ever get tired of touching her gorgeous hair . . . or touching her.

"Babies."

Dallas's hand froze. "What do you mean? You can't be--? Ah hell, we didn't use any protection, did
we?"

Gillian shook her head. "You do want babies, don't you?"

The thought of Gillian round with his child made his stomach clench. Dallas stared at the lovely
woman looking at him with those beautiful big brown eyes. Why had he resisted her for so long? He
envisioned the future with Gillian by his side and babies. Lots of babies.

"Forget it," she said, biting her lip. "We don't have to decide right now. I'm probably okay. I just
thought--"

Dallas grabbed her shoulders. In one fluid movement, he flipped her beneath him. Her sleek body
molded itself to his. He eased himself into her waiting heat.

"I want you to have my babies," he whispered in her ear. Rocking them against the mattress, he gently
kissed her. "And if you aren't pregnant yet, I propose we remedy the situation as soon as possible."

Gillian's heart swelled with happiness. She loved him so much. She knew living with Dallas wouldn't
be easy. There would be fights and disagreements. But there would also be kisses, making up, long
nights filled with love, and little McCades running all around.

"How do you propose we do that, Cowboy?"

"Not by talking, that's for sure," Dallas said.

"So, shut up and kiss me," she said, pulling him down.

"Yes, ma'am. Always happy to oblige."

###

For more eBooks by Anne Marie Novark

Go to

Amazon.com

***

The Diamondback Ranch Series

Book Three: A Match Made In Texas

When Austin McCade’s wife dies, a vital part of him dies, too. The sexy single dad devotes himself
to his motherless daughter and his work on the Diamondback Ranch. For twelve years, he ignores
life and women . . . until a new pretty schoolteacher moves to town.

From the moment Theresa Rogers arrives in Salt Fork, Texas, people warn her about the lonely
widower. He’s a hopeless case, a lost cause. But Theresa sees beneath the crusty exterior of the
man to the deep emotions and his enduring loyalty. Can she pierce the impenetrable wall
surrounding his broken heart? Will she be able to vanquish the ghost who keeps him from loving
again?

The Diamondback Ranch Series

Book One: The Doctor Wears A Stetson

Jessie Kincaid was fifteen and innocent when Cameron asked her to the prom. She lost her heart
that night, but his plans didn't change. He left their small town to pursue his dreams.

Seventeen years later, a trip home leads Cameron McCade back to Salt Fork, Texas and the newly
widowed Jessie Divine. Since his return, the fire between them burns as hot as ever. Can they take
up where they left off? Can Jessie risk her heart again?

***

For announcements on upcoming releases:

Join AnneMarie's Mailing List

***

Return to Stone Creek

Her Reluctant Rancher

by

Anne Marie Novark

Living with his stern grandfather taught Trevor Callahan one important lesson: Caring makes a
man weak. Now the old man is dead and Trev returns to Stone Creek for one reason and one
reason only--to sell the Rocking C Ranch. Maybe then he can put his past behind him and move on.

Beth Evans once confused lust for love and vows never to let it happen again. The bookmobile
driver is trying to raise funds to build a new library. The late Hank Callahan bequeathed a million
dollars for the project, but he attached one stipulation: Do not let his grandson sell the ranch.

***

Midnight My Love

A Regency Romance Novel

by

Anne Marie Novark

The rakish Viscount Rochdale, Damien Avenall, loved Alexandra Turlington like a little sister; or
so he thought until Alex grew into a lovely and desirable young lady. In a moment of madness, he
kissed her and everything changed between them. Harboring a lifelong distrust of beautiful
women, he believed they could no longer be friends.

Ten years pass and Damien finds himself escorting Alexandra’s critically-wounded brother home
to Willowmede, where he must face the only woman he’s ever truly wanted; the one woman he can
never have. He is determined to exorcise Alex from his heart once and for all, even if it means he
must kiss her again . . . one last time.

Alex often wonders why Damien betrayed their special friendship. His kiss awakened her to
passion, but she knows better than to give her heart to a libertine. Or does she? When the viscount
offers to stay and help nurse her brother back to health, Alexandra discovers her heart has always
belonged to Damien. But this time, she wants more than his friendship. This time, she wants it all.

***

Texan Undercover

by

Anne Marie Novark

Sparks fly and computers crash when Claire Maxwell's cybercafe is used for nefarious purposes.
She's thrown into the midst of an undercover operation and doesn't like it one bit. She really

doesn't like being thrown in the company of the hot private eye handling the case. Claire doesn't
believe in love or happily ever after anymore. Can the handsome P.I. change her mind?

Dillon Anderson needs Claire's help to stop a dangerous corporate hacker. What he doesn't need
is the sucker punch of desire whenever she's near. Dillon has always avoided women like Claire,
but avoiding this particular woman proves to be an impossible mission. Can he get the job done
without getting done in himself?

***

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Under the Cowboy's Control

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Selena Taylor is an American citizen determined to find her grandparents after she loses her
family to the violence of the drug cartel in Mexico. Crossing the border into Texas turns out to be
the easy part. Virtually penniless and enticingly innocent, she soon finds herself at the mercy of
Travis Blake.

Travis is a hard-working, self-made rancher that has never known love or softness of any kind. His
only use for women is sexual, and Selena is caught on his ranch with no way out. While Selena
plots her escape from his control, Travis ruthlessly and methodically tightens his possession and
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In an obscure arm of the Mist Galaxy, light years from old Earth, the Ajoricans (Jories) are life

companions to certain humans with psychic abilities. Time and space obey these cat-like
creatures. They can bend and stop time, see time-to-be, jump vast distances alone, and take their
humans with them.

The true rulers of the Mist Galaxy are the immortal Nidians who took up residence on Moon Aden
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Captain Lord Rhad Detangi, heir to the ancient Leopard throne, rescues twelve-year-old Princess
Reisa Hyatt-Hale from a hostile takeover of her parents' castle. Able to read minds and manipulate
others by "pushing" them, Rhad discovers Reisa is an empath, who is unaware of her own psychic
powers.

Years later, their lives intertwine again when they are put on a ship bound for the prison planet
Cortania. Reisa is grown up. Her powers have evolved and her feelings have matured. The
compelling presence of Rhad Detangi is an irresistible force she cannot fight.

Rhad has never forgotten the girl he rescued so long ago. The emotional bonds they forged, and
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***

About the Author . . .

Anne Marie is a Texas girl, born and raised. Romance is her passion. She loves to read and write
about men and women falling in love, overcoming life's obstacles, and living happily ever after. She
writes spicy contemporary novels, usually involving a cowboy or two, as well as Regency
historicals.

Anne Marie lives just outside of Houston with her husband who is her best friend and her own special
hero. They have two grown children, two mischievous cats and one sweet puppy dog. Besides
reading and writing, Anne Marie enjoys puttering around in her flowerbeds, going to garage sales,
collecting antiques and watching old movies.

Visit her at

www.annemarienovark.com

.

Happy Reading!!!