P.I. of a boyfriend. Tonight she had given the cold shoulder to every man in the honky-tonk.
He slowed and parked in front of the house. In the next block he saw a man stumbling along the sidewalk until he turned and disappeared inside a house.
Olivia’s car approached and turned into her drive that was no more than a gravel path. When she stepped out of the car, she picked up a grocery sack and walked toward her house, merely glancing at him when he emerged from his car.
“We’ve talked,” she said when he caught up with her. She brushed past him and climbed rickety steps, crossing the porch to unlock her door. Matt followed and held the screen door. He stood close enough to get a strong whiff of the odor of cigarette smoke trapped in her hair.
She looked up at him. “You’re not welcome here. I’ve said all I need to say to you.”
“Listen. You’re carrying a Ransome. I want to help you and you damned well need support. Stop being so stubborn and listen to what I have to offer. For all you know, you could be turning down a million bucks.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Am I?” she asked, startling him at her change in temperament because he thought he heard amusement in her voice.
“Let’s go inside and talk,” he answered. She gave him a level look and he wondered if she was going to send him on his way, but she shrugged and entered her house, leaving the door open behind her.
He followed her into a small, frame house that had to be nearly a hundred years old. White paint had peeled from the cracked walls, revealing a coat of dark blue paint. The furniture was threadbare and looked older than he was, yet there were some green plants and a few touches that contrasted with the dilapidation.
She tossed her purse on the sofa, set down the sack of groceries and motioned to him. “Have a seat.”
“How long have you lived here?” he asked, looking around and sitting on an overstuffed chair covered in a faded, flowered slipcover. A blanket was thrown over the sofa and he suspected it hid holes.
“Almost a year now.”
Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees while he watched her kick off her shoes and rub her foot.
“I know you’re going to school. You don’t have any family. You work in a dive and you reek of cigarette smoke. The bar can’t be healthy for your baby or you.”
“I’m trying to get another job that pays at least as much as the one I have. I don’t have the skills or the wardrobe for an office job,” she said, thrusting out her chin defiantly. “Pay is higher at Two-Steppin’ Ribs because the bar is out in nowhere.”
“How many hours are you taking this semester?”
“Two classes—six hours. I’m in pre-law.”
“You’re a sophomore, aren’t you?”
“I think you already know the answer. And you’re thinking that a sophomore is not much for someone who is twenty-two, but it’s the best I could do,” she replied, curling her long legs beneath her and settling in the corner of the sofa. His gaze slid along her legs. He tried to keep his thoughts on his mission, but he was responding to her physically in a manner that shocked him.
“All right. Here’s the deal,” he said. “I’ll send you to school. You quit that job and move out to the ranch with me—”
“No way! I’m sure you think I’m easy, but I’m not climbing into bed with you to get my tuition,” she said, flinging the words at him and standing.
“Sit down,” he said with such ice and authority that she did. “I don’t want your body.” Even as he said the words, a devilish urge made him too aware that he was lying to her as far as what his body desired. Yet he could control himself and good sense kept telling him that he shouldn’t want her physically. She would be pure poison. He didn’t want to get involved emotionally with any woman.
“I’ll pay for your school, let you quit that damn job,” he repeated, “take care of you and the baby. I’ll pay your medical bills—”
“No one is that filled with benevolence. What do you want out of this generous offer?” she asked in a cynical voice.
“Stop fighting me,” he said, gazing steadily into her green eyes and thinking that every inch of her made a man think of sex. “I want to know my niece or nephew. I want to make sure this baby is taken care of in the manner he or she should be. I don’t want your body,” he reaffirmed, trying to avoid looking at her lush body and failing annoyingly to stop thinking about it. “I want to know your baby. I want to see you able to take care of yourself and the baby. I can pay for your education. In turn, this Ransome will become part of our family. Dad has had one heart attack already. I want him to know his only grandchild.”
“If you want your father to have a grandchild so badly, you should rethink your stance against marriage.”
“I married once and never again for me,” Matt replied grimly, refusing to discuss the matter further.
“What happened? She didn’t like your bossy arrogance?”
He banked his irritation and ignored her question. “Your baby will be the only Ransome in the next generation. My dad isn’t getting any younger and he desperately wants a grandchild. I think he’s given up on all of us, but now, with your baby, his hopes are rekindled.”
As Olivia bit her lip, Matt couldn’t resist looking at her mouth.
“Look, dammit. What are you holding onto here besides your independence?” he asked. “This isn’t a castle. Your job is tough and tiring and pays little. You work in an unhealthy atmosphere. Men hit on you, and I can imagine what they’re saying to you—”
“And you won’t hit on me?” she asked in a sarcastic tone.
“No, I won’t,” he said flatly, trying in vain to shove erotic images of her out of his mind. “You know you’re an attractive woman, but you’re like a relative,” he said, while an inner voice laughed and he wiped his perspiring brow. When had the temperature in the small room climbed so high?
“What do you want?” she asked. “You look like the straight-arrow, determined, accustomed to getting-your-way type.”
“I want to take care of my dad and our ranches—we own three. No commitments beyond my family and our ranches. I want my dad to get to know his only grandchild. Pretty damn simple,” Matt snapped, thinking it should not be complicated, but it was. He was playing with dynamite right now by bringing her into their family.
“I suspect there’s more to it than my baby.”
“I swear I’m telling you the truth.”
“I know I work in a bad place and I’m looking for another job,” she said, waving her slender fingers at him. “I’m holding on to my independence because that’s all I really have. I don’t want to have to depend on you and I don’t want to have to repay you for favors.”
“If it reassures you, we can put my offer in a contract. I don’t want anything physical,” he repeated. “I’ll pay for your school and all your expenses and your baby’s. I’ll
