Like he needed to remind her. “Yes, I mentioned your support a few seconds ago. I understand this idea may not appeal to you, but it will work, Jack. And you’ll benefit from it financially once it’s up and running. Right now things are a bit, er, tight.” She smoothed her hand over her dress. Jack didn’t need her money, but she wouldn’t expect him to let her use his space in the farm forfree.
“No shit. Lola, your father sold all but a few livestock before he passed. Which leaves you with this huge house, a few horses, and bills that’ll beat you like a rented mule. If I pay you what your share is worth, you can take your tight little ass back to L.A. and do … whatever it is you’ve been doing there.”
Jack’s patronizing words had the power of turning her into a toy poodle wearing a hot pink sequined dress. She shook her head, overwhelmed with the insecurity and doubt it had taken her months to overcome. “Thanks for complimenting my ass. Still not selling.”
“This should be mighty interesting, then,” said Jack. “Since I happen to livehere.”
Jack’s body roared,the cells awakening like an old muscle car that had been sitting in a garage for too long. Lola parted her luscious, kissable mouth. His gaze drifted lower to her breasts, and he could almost hear the soft moan she would produce if he snagged her nipple between hislips.
A rush of blood tightened hiscock.
He lifted his fingers to rub his forehead if only to touch the throbbingvein.
“You what?” She folded her arms and covered her hard peaks, yanking temptationaway.
Jack curled and uncurled his fists. “I’ve lived here my whole life,” he said. A stretch? Hellno.
He’d grown up as the manager’s son, in quarters far from the main house. When he’d offered Milton ideas on how to increase profits, Milton had invested in him. When money rolled in, Jack paid Milton back, and later, bought properties around the estate. After the end of his doomed marriage to Lola, he hadn’t flinched—he’d come back to living in the St. James Ranch, but this time, as the boss. Sure, Milton had given him and Lola the ranch as a wedding gift. But he’d tried to buy the land from the man long before he surrendered to a crazy, long-overdue desire and began datingLola.
He’d gotten married, and the land came with the package. The marriage failed, but half of this property was his and now he wanted it all. He had to nail the deal. The two other properties bordering this ranch where already his, but he needed to make sure he owned Red Oak completely. He needed the river that crossed properties. Because of outdated mineral rights, if somehow Lola ended up owning the ranch, she’d have total power over the river. She would be able to stop him from using it, out of spite. I won’t allowit.
Besides, Red Oak was home. Hishome.
She sucked air through her teeth. “Dad never told me you lived here fulltime.”
“Would it have mattered?” he asked. When he’d been younger, he had dreamed of sleeping with Lola. She, the forbidden fruit who rarely visited the farm, but on the handful times she had, his craving for her had been latent and secret.
“Of course not,” she said in a rush of words. “It’s not like I ever asked him anything about you anyway.”
Jack winced. Of course he didn’t matter to her at all. He hadn’t when they were together, or after she lost their baby. He hadn’t mattered when she left him. Why would he now? Although…
He cleared his throat and began to speak, then paused, staring at his estranged wife once more. Tiny beads of sweat glistened on her face and arms, still fresh from what must have been a drive from hell, followed by her meet-and-greet with Magnus the bull. Her hair, wild and loose, still reached down to her shoulders but was free and unrestrained, not Barbie doll perfect any more. The wavy, thick tresses looked like she’d just stepped out of bed. Unbidden, memories of Lola, her legs wrapped around his hips, her nails digging into his shoulders, screaming his name as he impaled her, flashed into Jack’s mind. A current of longing surged through him. Again. Fuck. Why couldn’t I feel this for Mel or any other woman?
Mel, the perfect contender to be his wife one day and mother of the children he so badly wanted. If things continued at this rate, he’d need a cane to walk his son to the park. Just like his father, who raised him after his mother bolted onthem.
Lola glared at him with huge, brown eyes. The creased purple dress hugging her delicious curves made his blood pump thick and hard, and all he wantedto—
“You own other properties. Why do you need to live here of all places?” She made a circular movement with her fingers in theair.
“I like it here.” An understatement. When he’d grown up at Red Oak, he promised himself one day he’d buy it. That’s why he’d bought the surrounding properties. From a young age, the ranch had brought joy and hope to his life—and never betrayed him. “I told your father he should have persuaded you to sell me your share.”
She shook her head. “I trust he did what he thoughtbest.”
“He sold me most of the cattle. Did you ever see any money, since he represented your affairs?”
She broke eye contact, drumming her fingers on both sides of her waist. He followed the direction of her stare, the damn swordfish he’d kept because it seemed wrong to change anything Milton had touched.
“My dad didn’t make good decisions. You took advantage ofhim.”
“Advantage? He went bankrupt, Lola. In the end, he made bad business decisions.” He raked his hand through his hair. Too late to take it back. Wasn’t it the truth? Milton had helped him in the beginning, yes, and Jack would always be grateful. But he had since paid back his mentor tenfold.
“You haven’t changed one bit,” she said with a hitch in her throat that made him soften. “You’re still an insensitive jerk. Only worried about your own needs.”
Her voice betrayed a pang of pain, almost changing his resolve. Almost. Pain remained a vivid reminder of how wrong they had been for each other, but there was no going back now. Orever.
“I just don’t want you to follow the same path. I’ll buy your share, and then you can sign the divorce papers and get on with yourlife.”
The most dragged out divorce in the world. He had known very little about the woman he had seen in passing while he worked for Milton, and then later, married— after a hot, whirlwind four-month affair and an accidental pregnancy. After her miscarriage, she had packed her bags and left, but never signed the divorce papers he’d sent her. He believed she was unable to relinquish the last bit of control she had over him. She didn’t want him, but wouldn’t let him go. His lawyers had advised him not to rush things, afraid she’d rip his assets in half. Nonsense.
