Texas Heat (3 page)

Jake rested his arms across the back of the couch. His gaze dropped to her left hand. “So you never married.”

“No.”

“And Emma doesn't know who her father is.”

Savannah's jaw tightened. “It wasn't necessary.”

“Is that your answer or Emma's?”

Savannah felt as if a band were cinching around her chest, squeezing the breath from her. “I asked you before what you want with us, Mr. Stone. I'll ask you that again.”

“And I'll answer you again. I'm here to meet Emma.”

“And if I agree, then what?”

“She's my sister. The Stone family never walks away from one of their own.”

Panic filled Savannah at Jake's comment. What was he saying? That he wanted to take Emma? She'd never let that happen.
Never.
She'd run so far the Stone family would never find her or Emma.

Shoulders stiff, Savannah stood and faced Jake. “Why you think you have the right to waltz in here and make demands is beyond me, but as far as I'm concerned, this conversation is through. I think you better leave, Mr. Stone.”

He didn't budge. Instead, he slowly let his gaze scan her, starting at her legs, hesitating at her breasts, then finally resting on her face. The perusal was long and detailed, and as furious as it made her, Savannah also felt a hot swirl low in her stomach. Clenching her fists, she started to turn toward the front door.

“How old are you, Miss Roberts?”

She went still at his question, then slowly turned back to face him. “Excuse me?'

“I said—” Jake stood “—how old are you?”

Savannah nervously brushed her hair back from her face. “What business is that of yours?”

“I would guess you're around twenty-five or -six.”

She said nothing, just stared at him.

“And that would make you about sixteen or seventeen when you had an affair with my father.”

Dammit, dammit!
There'd been too many years separating her and Angela. Savannah had tried to look older. Conservative clothes and extra makeup. Obviously she'd underestimated Jake Stone.

“I look younger than I am,” she said truthfully. She was twenty-seven.

He kept his eyes on her. “What was my father's first name?”

Savannah felt her throat go dry. “J.T., of course.”

Impatience twitched at the corner of his mouth. “What was his
first
name?”

How could she possibly know that? Angela had never wanted anyone to know who Emma's father was. If the private investigator hadn't called, Savannah never would have known his name at all. “He didn't tell me.”

Jake stared sharply down at her. “You supposedly slept with my father and had his child, but you don't know his first name?”

It was only there for a split second, but Jake saw the fear in the woman's eyes. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by icy indifference. Lifting her shoulders, she turned stiffly away from him.

“I'll show you out, Mr. Stone.”

His hand snaked out, catching her by the elbow and holding her fast. “What the hell kind of a game are you playing?”

She stared down coolly at his hand. “I don't know what you're talking about, but if you don't let go of me and leave right now, I'm going to scream.”

He held fast. “Go ahead and scream. Then if I have to bring in a lawyer, we can find out who you really are and why you're lying.”

At the mention of a lawyer, she went still. Her frightened gaze darted to his, then, with a long sigh, she closed her eyes. “You don't understand,” she said quietly.

“You're damn right I don't understand. But if you think you can put me off while you figure out a way to get your hands on the land, then you're sadly mistaken. There's no way I'm going to stand around and watch while you or anyone else sells off even one foot of Stone Creek.”

She looked genuinely confused. “Land? What are you—”

Jake wasn't sure what suddenly caught his attention, a soft cry, or a movement at the hall doorway, but he turned then and saw her. A little girl. Her long hair shone dark as a Texas night, and her eyes, filled now with tears, were as blue as cornflowers.

His heart lurched. He stared at the child and knew without a doubt it was Emma. And he also knew without a doubt that she
was
J.T.'s daughter. The resemblance was uncanny. The little girl was Jessica's clone, right down to the slight cleft in the chin and pert nose. Amazed, he loosened his grip on the woman, but didn't let go. She turned then and saw the child.

“Emma!” She jerked out of his hold and moved across the room to the little girl. “I told you to stay in your room.”

“I'm sorry, Aunt Savannah, but I heard somebody yell,” Emma said in a tiny shaky voice.

“Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry if we scared you,” Savannah said softly, and took hold of Emma's hand. “We really didn't mean to speak so loud.” She turned and sent Jake a piercing look. “Did we, Mr. Stone?”

Jake felt an instant pang of guilt. He was the only one who had raised his voice. Well, hell, he thought, shifting uncomfortably, how was he supposed to know the kid was in the other room?

Jake moved closer to the woman and child, but was careful to keep his distance. “I'm sorry, too, Emma,” he said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. “Your
aunt Savannah
and I were just talking about a few things.”

Emma folded herself against Savannah's hip. “About me?”

He nodded. “That's right.”

“Are you my brother?” Emma asked, her eyes wide as she stared up at Jake.

Jake looked at Emma, then at the woman the child clung to. “Yes.”

Savannah slid a protective hand around Emma's shoulders. “You don't—”

“My name is Jake,” he said, “and I have a picture of Jessica, your older sister. Would you like to see it?”

The child's eyes grew even wider. “I have a sister, too?” she asked softly.

“And another brother named Jared,” Jake added, pulling a picture from his wallet and handing it to Emma.

“She looks like me!” Emma cried. “Look, Aunt Savannah. My sister, Jessica, looks just like me.”

With trembling fingers, Savannah took the picture from her niece, wanting desperately for the child to be wrong. Her heart sank as she stared at the photograph. Though faded from what appeared to be several years in a wallet, there was no mistaking the incredible resemblance between Emma and this woman Jessica.

And no denying the truth.

“Isn't it neat?” Emma looked up at her aunt. “We thought we didn't have any family. Now we have lots!”

Savannah watched Jake's brow furrow at Emma's announcement. Slowly he turned his gaze to meet hers, questioning.

“Yes, Emma, it's...neat.” Savannah handed the picture back to Jake. “But they aren't my family, sweetheart, just yours.”

“But they have to be yours if they're mine,” Emma protested.

“I'll explain later, Pecan.” Savannah knelt in front of Emma and pushed the hair away from her cherubic face. “But right now I need to speak to...Jake for a few minutes alone. Okay?”

Emma hesitated, and Jake bent close to her, his face almost level with hers. “I promise I won't leave without saying goodbye.”

Jake watched as Emma nodded, then walked down the hall, her eyes downcast. At the sound of the bedroom door closing, Savannah moved away from Jake and stepped toward a sliding glass door that led to a small patio. She stood there, arms folded, and stared out at the potted ferns and azaleas. The door was open a few inches and the lace curtains billowed softly in the cool breeze.

“You want to tell me what's going on?” he asked tersely, moving behind her.

Her shoulders tightened, but she did not turn around. “Emma is my niece,” she said quietly. “Angela is...was, my sister.”

Was?
Jake frowned, letting the impact of Savannah's words settle. He waited silently for her to continue.

“Our parents were killed five years ago in a car accident,” she went on. “We have no other family, so Emma always stayed with me when Angela was out of town on business. I loved having her, and because I teach at St. Mary's Academy here in Atlanta where Emma is in the fourth grade, it was also convenient.”

Savannah's hand reached out to smooth the lace curtain, and as she did so, the breeze carried the sound of tinkling wind chimes from the patio outside.

“Go on,” he encouraged when she hesitated.

She drew in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Angela had just received an award for her design of a contemporary art museum in Florida. She'd been gone four days and was anxious to get home. When her flight was canceled, she chartered a private plane to fly her home.”

Savannah turned, and though she looked directly at Jake, he realized she didn't really see him. “Her birthday was last week. She would have been forty-three.”

Jake felt his gut tighten. Children needed a mother. And a father. At nine years old, Emma had neither. “What do you know about my father and your sister?”

Savannah shook her head. “Nothing. Angela was sixteen years older than me, more like a mother than a sister. I was only eighteen when she came back from a job in Texas. She kept that part of her life completely private, and all I knew was that she'd fallen in love with an older, married man. I'd always assumed he'd turned his back on her when he found out she was pregnant.”

“My father wouldn't have done that,” Jake said coldly.

“Did you know your father was having an affair?”

“Of course not.”

“Then how do you know what else he did or didn't do?”

Jake's face was etched in granite, and his eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. “I know that no member of the Stone family would ever walk away from one of their own.”

“Emma is not ‘your own,'” she said fiercely. “She is Emma Victoria Roberts, and she's mine. I laughed in the delivery room when she was born, applauded her on the soccer field when she got her first goal and cried with her when her mother died. For nine years she's done fine without you and will continue to do so for ninety more.”

She faced him like a lioness defending her young, her green eyes flashing a challenge and her chin lifted defiantly. The breeze tugged at the ends of her shoulder-length blond hair, and he couldn't help but notice the graceful sweep of her slender fingers as she absently brushed the strands back.

He moved closer to her, and the scent of magnolias drifted in from the open door. He'd heard the term “steel magnolia” before, but he'd never been face-to-face with it. He felt a tug of desire as he stared at the woman, then reminded himself she'd lied to him. There were few things he tolerated less than lying. Very few things. “Why did you pretend to be Angela?” he asked tightly.

Sighing, she closed her eyes, then opened them again. “Emma is all I have. Surely you can understand that I would do anything to protect her.”

Jake frowned. “You thought you had to protect her from her own brother?”

“Half brother,” she corrected him.

His jaw tightened. “Family is family. All I want, and Jessica and Jared, as well, is an opportunity to get to know Emma, and for her to know us.”

The fear was back again, Jake noticed. Her green eyes darkened with it momentarily before she quickly wrestled it down. He couldn't help but give her credit for her control.

“I suppose,” she said, and that enticing accent of hers turned icy. “If you call first, we might be able to make arrangements for visits.”

The idea of making arrangements grated on Jake's already shredded patience almost as much as Savannah's cool formality. Tipping his hat back, he let out a heavy sigh. “Well, now, ma'am—” he forced a heavy Texas drawl “—that's right nice of you, but that's not exactly what I had in mind.”

“Oh?” She lifted one delicate eyebrow. “And what exactly did you have in mind?”

“What I have in mind—” his gaze locked with hers and his voice dropped dangerously low as he stepped closer “—is for my little sister to come home with me.”

I
t was her worst nightmare come true. The very thing she'd dreaded since the day she'd received the phone call from the private investigator. Savannah felt her skin go cold and her heart stop for one terrifying split second.

Nobody was taking Emma away from her.
Nobody.

She stared at Jake, letting the shock wave travel through her, and felt relief at the anger that followed in its wake. She knew better than to show weakness to a man like Jake Stone. Lifting her chin, she faced him and locked his intense gaze with her own. “I don't know you from Adam, Mr. Stone. I wouldn't let you take my niece around the block, let alone to Texas. Emma is in my charge and she stays with me.”

Jake shrugged. “I don't have a problem with that. There's plenty of room for both of you.”

Go to Texas? He couldn't be serious. He
couldn't.
But he was, Savannah realized. Dead serious. “That's ridiculous.”

He walked to her, stopping so close she felt the heat of his body and smelled the pure masculine scent that radiated from him. She desperately wanted to step away, but refused to give in to his obvious attempt at intimidation.

“Why?” he asked.

Why?
There were at least a dozen logical reasons she could easily throw at him—two dozen—but she was having a difficult time thinking with him so close. “Because...because we can't, that's why.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Is school out for you and Emma?”

“We finished three days ago, but—”

“Fine. Then you can get someone to watch this place for you for a couple of months.”

“A couple of months!” Savannah's mouth dropped open. “That's out of the question.”

“All right, then,” Jake conceded. “A month.”

How had this gotten so out of hand? A month with this man to—
Where
was it he lived? Stone Creek? She'd be crazy to even consider it. Shaking her head, Savannah turned away and stared out the glass door. “I'm sorry, but it's just not possible.”

“I'll petition the courts if necessary,” he said dryly. “As Emma's brother, I have a right, legally and morally, to visitation. You can come with her or not. Either way, it's your choice.”

Cold fear gripped Savannah. He was making it perfectly clear that if she forced him to petition the court and he won, she would be excluded from the visit. If she agreed to the visit, then she could come. She turned stiffly. “I believe that's blackmail, Mr. Stone. You'll win the game at any cost, won't you?”

His mouth tightened at her accusation. “I'm not looking to win the game, Miss Roberts. I'm only asking that you deal me—and my sister and brother—a fair hand.”

“Fair?” She whirled away, then turned back around, her hands on her hips. “I never heard of Stone Creek or your family until two weeks ago. And now, suddenly, here you are, demanding that I let Emma visit you, and you have the nerve to talk to me about fair? For all I know, you just got out of prison.”

“You'll have to trust me on that one.”

She nearly laughed at the absurdity of his comment. “Mister, right now I wouldn't trust you with an old pair of socks, let alone my niece. Emma is all I have, and I'm all she has. If the situation were reversed, what would you do?”

He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze hard and cold. Then unexpectedly he looked away, removing his hat and running a work-roughened hand through his hair. “Look, Miss Roberts...Savannah,” he said more softly, “I realize how difficult this must be for you. And you're right, if the situation were reversed, I'd do exactly the same.” He sighed heavily. “But answer me this—what plans have you made for Emma if anything happens to you?”

An image of her hand locked with Emma's as they stood beside Angela's coffin intruded into Savannah's mind. Who would hold her niece's hand if tragedy struck again? She nearly shivered at the thought. “Nothing is going to happen to me.”

“But if something does, where will Emma go? You already said you have no family. But Emma does. She has me and Jessica and Jared. Give us a chance. At least come and meet us, and you'll know we'll always be there for her if she needs us.”

The reality of Jake's words swept through Savannah with the chill of an arctic wind. He was right. No one knew what tomorrow might bring, and if anything did happen to her, at least Emma wouldn't be with strangers, with people who didn't care about her.

She'd be with family.

Savannah realized that, regardless of whether she wanted to go or not, she
needed
to. She needed the peace of mind that, if it became necessary, the Stone family would care for Emma as their own. That they would love her and protect her.

Forcing herself not to tremble, Savannah faced Jake. “Your wife won't mind?”

Jake frowned. “It's just me and Jared and Jessica.”

Savannah drew in a deep shaky breath, then slowly released it. “One month.” She leveled her gaze on his. “But if I think, even for a second, that you or your family might hurt Emma, then we'll be gone so quick your head'll spin faster than one of your Texas tornadoes.”
And you'll never find us again.

Relief softened the corners of Jake's eyes, and he smiled for the first time, extending his hand. “I'll send the tickets right away.”

“I'll make the arrangements myself, thank you.”

Hesitantly she took his hand. His warm, rough fingers closed over hers and something passed between them. Something that made Savannah catch her breath and Jake's eyes sharpen. It was softer than a whisper and lighter than the brush of a feather.

And
it,
whatever it was, packed the punch of a twenty-ton press.

She pulled her hand abruptly away and folded her arms, praying she wasn't making the biggest mistake of her life.

* * *

Savannah had no trouble finding Jake when she and Emma got off the plane six days later. After all, spotting a six-foot-four cowboy wearing a black hat in the middle of a crowded airport was hardly a difficult task.

But what
was
difficult for her was the way her heart slammed against her ribs and her pulse shifted into double time at the sight of him.

He stood off to the side, leaning casually against a ticket counter, his face shielded by the brim of his hat. His white workshirt was clean and pressed, and he'd hooked his thumbs into the front loops of his jeans. A silver buckle gleamed at his narrow waist, and though she tried, it was impossible to stop her gaze from drifting downward, over his lean hips to the masculine bulge at the juncture of his long legs. She tore her gaze quickly away, but not before the heat of a blush warmed her cheeks.

“Aunt Savannah!” Emma tugged on her hand and pointed. “There's Jake!”

He caught sight of them and straightened, then reached down to pick up a shopping bag at his feet.

“Jake!” Emma called to him and waved. “Here we are!”

Emma had been a bundle of energy and excitement all week. She'd asked endless questions about the Stone family that Savannah couldn't answer and had packed and repacked her bags countless times. Savannah, on the other hand, had been a bundle of nerves. As she'd prepared her own suitcases, the temptation to take her niece and run had been overwhelming.

But she hadn't, of course. And now, as Jake Stone strolled determinedly toward her and Emma, Savannah once again wished she had.

He stopped in front of them, his gaze intense as it slid slowly over Savannah. She'd tried to convince herself that she'd imagined that feeling she'd had the last time he'd looked at her this way, but she hadn't.
It
was there again between them. Unspoken, but every bit as powerful as before, and Savannah nearly shivered with the force of it. There was a taut moment of silence before he looked over at Emma and reached into the bag he carried.

“I thought you might like this,” he said to Emma, and pulled out a fluffy white stuffed animal.

“A kitty! Thanks, Jake.” Emma hugged the present to her. “Did you bring anything for Savannah?”

“Not this time,” he said, and when he turned his gaze back to Savannah the predatory look that flashed through his blue eyes made her pulse skip. “Maybe next time.”

“There's nothing I need, thank you,” Savannah said, meeting Jake's dark gaze, though her throat was so dry she hardly knew how she got the words out. “You just concentrate on Emma.”

Jake knew that Savannah was right, of course. He'd brought his sister to Stone Creek for a family gathering, not to get her beautiful aunt into his bed. But when he'd looked at her after she'd stepped off the plane, that had been his first thought. That pink slip of a dress she was wearing might be cool for her, but it had him so hot it was damn near embarrassing. What red-blooded male wouldn't look at those long smooth legs and imagine them wrapped around his waist?

Jake nearly sighed aloud at the thought. With all the problems he'd been having since he'd had to fire his only ranch hand a month ago, there'd been no time to even consider female companionship, let alone do anything about it. To Jake, lust and sex were as natural a part of life as breathing. But since his ex-wife, he'd taught himself to control those urges with women. Savannah Roberts would be no different, he told himself.

Still, he'd seen the interest flare in her green eyes, too, whether she was willing to admit it or not. Maybe, just maybe, if the time and place were right and the lady was willing...

The midmorning air was cool, so they drove with the windows down. Jake had borrowed Jessica's station wagon, and the car, though certainly not new, was comfortable and clean, two things Jake's truck was not. Emma was stretched out in the back seat, firing questions at Jake about his ranch and Jared and Jessica and what kind of animals he had. He patiently answered them all, until finally, as the drive wore on, she fell asleep.

Savannah looked behind her at the exhausted child and smiled. “She's been up since five. I'm surprised she lasted this long.”

“You look tired yourself.” Jake adjusted the rearview mirror. “Why don't you go ahead and take a nap? It's still another two hours to the ranch.”

“Two hours?” Savannah looked at the expanse of land in front of her. As far as the eye could see were mesquite and sagebrush, cacti with yellow blooms and tall porcupine-looking plants with white flowering spikes. Low-lying mountains hovered at the horizon, and dark clouds prowled the outer ridges. There were no signs of people, no buildings. Just land, and more land.

“Isolated” was the word that came to mind. She'd been nervous about coming here, but never actually afraid. Until now. “You didn't mention your place was so far away from the airport.”

From people.

The radio was more static than music. Jake fiddled with the dial for a moment, then shut it off. “Does that bother you, being far away?”

“Well, no, of course not, it's just that, well, I might need some things. A month is a long time.”

“Cactus Flat is about forty-five minutes from the ranch. You can get most anything you need there, except for fast food or sushi,” he added.

With a place that sounded as warm and welcoming as Cactus Flat, Savannah could hardly wait. “No fast food?” She opened her eyes wide in feigned disbelief. “I had no idea we'd be roughing it like this.”

Her sarcasm brought a frown to his face. “People from the city think life out here is a stroll in the park, Savannah. Pretty little horses and cute little cows.” His frown deepened. “Ranching is hard, dangerous work. Long hours, no medical pay, no sick leave.”

He was angry, Savannah realized. His words were bitter, and she almost felt as if he was intentionally painting a bleak picture for her. That hardly made sense, since he'd pushed so hard to get her and Emma out here.

“So why do you do it if you feel that way?” she asked.

His frown softened and he stared out the windshield, his gaze briefly following the dive of a hawk overhead. “I could no more explain it than you could ever understand it. It's just what I do, that's all.”

Savannah pressed her lips tightly together. “I might understand more than you think, Jake. Why don't you get to know me a little better before you pass judgment on me?”

He turned to her then and a smile lifted one corner of his mouth. His deep blue eyes darkened and narrowed with a look of intense masculine interest. She nearly shivered at the response that rose unwillingly in her.

“I'll do that,” he said huskily.

Heat shimmered over her skin and she looked quickly away before he could see the blush she knew was working its way up her cheeks. It was suddenly stifling in the car, but she refused to ask him to turn on the air. She'd show Jake Stone she was tough as any Texas rancher.

* * *

“Savannah?”

She heard someone calling her name, but just couldn't quite pull herself from the leaden mist wrapped around her. She turned her head slightly, but a soft “Hmm?” was all she could manage.

The voice came again, “Savannah.”

It was a nice voice, she decided. Deep, with a rough, gravelly texture that sent warm tingles over her skin. It sounded just like—

Jake!

She opened her eyes then, startled to realize she'd fallen asleep. He was leaning close to her, so close she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he whispered. “We're here.”

His words, along with the intimate tone of his voice, made Savannah's pulse race. Embarrassed, she sat upright and leaned away from him. “I—I'm sorry. I must have been more tired than I realized.”

“Emma, too,” he said quietly, pointing to the back seat. “She's been out the whole time.”

Savannah glanced at her sleeping niece. Though still buckled in, she lay sprawled across the seat, her ponytail gone and in its place a tousled mass of shining black hair.