The Texas Rancher's Vow

Matt tracked the silky chestnut waves flowing about her shoulders. “Eight thousand dollars, give or take.”

“Eight thousand dollars!”

“For the amount of work he’s going to do, and the cost and difficulty tracking down the right parts, that’s a bargain, Jen.”

She moaned and bent over from the waist, as if trying not to be sick. “That’s not the point.” She groaned again.

Matt tried not to notice the way her neckline gaped, revealing lace and curves, and jutting nipples. Stifling a groan himself, he averted his gaze and moved past her into his bedroom. “Really.” He tossed the words over his shoulder. “Because I thought getting your only mode of transportation back in order was exactly the point.”

Jen followed him, closing the distance between them once again. “I don’t have that kind of money right now, Matt.”

Surprised to see her standing in the middle of his bedroom, he shrugged. “Then Dad will give you an advance on your commission.”

Jen lifted her chin, coming closer. “How do you know?”

Matt exhaled. “Because I know him, and if he didn’t…then I would.”

Those cornflower-blue eyes glittered angrily. “I don’t want your money, Matt.”

Now, that rankled. “You didn’t seem to have a problem taking my father’s.”

Jen threw up her hands. “For work as it is completed!” she sputtered. “Not for…”

“What?”

She regarded him with silent derision. “That’s what I’m wondering.”

It took him a second to follow. “Surely you don’t think I’m trying to buy my way into your bed?”

She shrugged and kept her gaze locked with his. “You said it. Maybe you think that’s a way to speed up what you’d clearly like to happen between us.”

Matt hadn’t been the only one who enjoyed their make-out session. He studied her brooding expression. “This isn’t about the money,” he asserted, stepping closer. He angled a thumb at his chest. “It’s because I did what had to be done, without calling you every step of the way and asking your opinion.”

Something in his words must have clicked, because he saw a flicker of acknowledgment in Jen’s eyes. “Calling me would have been nice.”

Matt had never been one to shift the blame for his mistakes, but in this instance, he knew he wasn’t at fault. Stupidly naive, maybe, to think his gallantry would be received in the spirit it was given. He pushed on. “It would have been a waste of time. Yours and mine. Because the end result would have been the same. You would have ordered the repairs and had them done here, by the person we told you was the best.” Matt sauntered closer and saw her eyes widen in sensual awareness. “And you know why?” he murmured.

Her lower lip thrust out petulantly. “Because I had no choice?”

He shook his head, his heart going out to her, because he knew what it felt like to want things to go one way, and have them constantly go another. “Because you love that van as much as I love my pickup.”

“I didn’t tell you that so you could use it against me,” she retorted, looking distraught.

Matt put his hands on her shoulders and held her there when she would have run away from what was happening between them. “Say that again?”

Turbulent emotion tautened her pretty features. “I don’t want you taking charge of my life.”

He watched her, unsure how to help. “That isn’t what I was doing.”

Her mouth curved resentfully as she accused in a low, trembling tone, “That is exactly what you were doing, Matt.” She tapped an emphatic rhythm against the center of his chest. “And. I. Don’t. Like. It.”

He caught her hand and held it over his heart, aware they were finally beginning to get somewhere.

Wanting her to open up even more, he asked, “What’s really going on here? Are we talking about me now?” Certain he had her full attention, he waited another beat. “Or someone else?”

Matt’s assumption was so on target, Jen couldn’t help it, she swore in frustration and anger and confusion.

He grinned, pleased his needling was affecting her. He cupped her chin in his hand and urged, “Use your words. The ones not affiliated with your opinion of me.”

Jen felt as if the situation had knocked the wind out of her. For the sake of her pride, she pretended that she wasn’t glad to see Matt. Wasn’t glad to have him trying to help her, even if everything he was doing and saying was wrong.

Her hands flattened against the front of his shirt. “What I am trying to tell you,” she said, “is that I have been down this road before.”

“With another take-charge guy. Your ex-husband, maybe?”

“Yes.” Feeling as if her knees could no longer support her, she moved toward the only available seating—his bed—and sank down on the edge of it. “When it started out, I thought he was just being thoughtful and considerate. I didn’t have any money. Dex did. He wanted life to be nice for me.”

Matt sat down facing her. “What’s wrong with that?”

Everything, as it happened.

Jen looked deep in his eyes and tried not to think about how he would look at her once he knew the whole truth. “By the time Dex and I divorced, I wasn’t making any decisions for myself,” she admitted miserably. “Everything was decided for me.”

Matt furrowed his brow. “He wanted you to conform to what he thought was appropriate? For the woman who was his wife?”

Jen wished it had been that simple. Or that she had been strong enough to stand up for herself and fight for what she wanted.

But she hadn’t been able to do it then. She’d been stuck in people-pleasing mode.

Embarrassed, she had to force herself to go on. “Dex wanted me to do whatever he thought was going to tick his parents off the most.” Restless, she stood again and began to pace. “See, they were really controlling. They put all kinds of pressure on him, and he rebelled by marrying me. An artist who was more concerned about the quality of clay I was buying than the other details of my life.”

Matt’s expression gentled as he began to understand.

“They liked a woman’s hair to be salon perfect at all times, so Dex insisted that I not do anything to it that wasn’t completely natural.” Jen paused next to the window and looked out at the rolling acreage of the ranch.

Bracing a shoulder against the frame, she turned back to Matt. “They ate haute cuisine, so he had us bring in food from the most lowbrow restaurants around for our dinner.”

Matt came to stand next to her. “You lived with them?”

Remembering, she felt her heart constrict. “Oh, yes. That was part of the plan. He kept saying he wanted to build a place for us.”

“And they were all for that?”

“No.” Jen massaged the tense muscles in her neck. “His folks liked having him under their thumb. They just wanted to get rid of me, and have him marry someone more suitable. Someone of their social standing and all that.”

Matt searched her face. “So what finally happened?”

Memories came as fast and devastating as the actual event. “They gave Dex what he wanted. Early access to his half-million-dollar trust fund. On one condition.”