Carrying the Rancher's Heir / Secret Son, Convenient Wife: Carrying the Rancher's Heir / Secret Son, Convenient Wife. Charlene Sands
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She moved on him, stirring a bit, her breasts crushing into his side.
He swore under his breath, wincing at the pain and wondering if he’d made a colossal mistake taking her to bed.
Sure as hell didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt pretty damn amazing.
But he couldn’t forget who Callie was. He couldn’t forget that she wasn’t a woman he could turn away after a night of wild sex. He’d done that to her once and had regretted it.
Callie stirred again and Tagg held his breath, waiting for her to awaken.
He wanted her. She was an indulgence he couldn’t afford, yet one he couldn’t seem to resist.
Her eyelids lifted and she looked at him with a sleep-hazy gaze, her hair in a tumble around her face, her lips parted.
Tagg claimed her mouth in a slow easy kiss. “Morning.” It wasn’t quite. The early light of dawn hadn’t stolen into the room yet.
“Morning.” Her soft breath blew over his chest. She stroked her fingers into the scattered hairs there. “Did you sleep well?”
He ran his hand up and down the smooth sleek skin of her thigh. She cooed from his touch and his erection stiffened. “I’ve been awake for a while. Waiting for you.”
Callie lifted her head to look at him. Her gaze drifted down past his waist. Her smile was sweet, her words a little sassy. “Not my fault. You asked me not to leave. Or put on my nightgown.”
Stay naked. Sleep with me, had been his exact words. “Wouldn’t have mattered.” He told her the truth. “Just having you under the same roof is enough.”
Callie nibbled on her lower lip and a mischievous gleam brightened her eyes. “What are we going to do about that?”
Tagg rolled her over and set her shoulders against the mattress. He rose above her, his erection pressing into her flat belly. “I have a plan.”
Hours later, sated and holding Callie close, Tagg woke to dim sunlight pouring through the curtains. It was nearing time to get up and go about the business of the day.
Tagg could stay in this bed with Callie all week and that realization nagged at him. She was a fantastic lover, the best sex he’d had in a long time, if not ever. That worried him. He didn’t have a plan for this. The truth was, he didn’t have anything to offer her. Not a relationship. Not a courtship. He was done with those things.
So done.
And she was Hawkins Sullivan’s daughter.
He wouldn’t forget that.
When Callie stirred, Tagg draped his hand over her shoulder and rubbed her arms up and down. He felt her fatigue as her body went limp. “That feels … good. I’m … so tired.”
He brushed a kiss to the top of her head. “Go back to sleep. We have a little time.”
“I’m not going to wake up to a note, am I?” She spoke quietly, holding on for his answer before she drifted off.
“I’m here, Callie. I’m not going anywhere.”
Five
Tagg glanced at his watch, a tic working his jaw as he paced the floor in Clay’s parlor. He’d been waiting for fifteen minutes for a meeting he had with his brothers and Callie about fundraising for Penny’s Song. The usual bustling ranch looked like a morgue today. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Normally, Tagg liked solitude but now he was anxious.
Damn anxious. To see Callie.
Finally the door slammed shut and he recognized the sound of his brother’s boots shuffling across the hardwood floor.
“Sorry, I’m late.” Clay marched into the room and tossed his hat onto the sofa.
Tagg grunted.
“Jackson’s not coming. He’s tied up in town. You want a drink?” Clay moved to the bar in the corner of the room and poured a glass of iced tea for himself, then turned to Tagg.
“Nothing for me.” He glanced at his watch again. It was almost eleven-twenty. “What time did you call the meeting for?”
“Eleven.”
Clay took a big swallow of his drink, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand the way he had as a boy. “Where’s Callie?”
Tagg shrugged. That’s what he wanted to know. He’d dropped her off at Big Hawk Ranch after they’d concluded their business with the Cosgroves and said he’d call her. A couple of days slipped by as Tagg struggled with just the right words to say to her. Once he figured it out yesterday and had his speech all set, he’d called and gotten no answer. He’d left her two messages that she didn’t return.
“Don’t know. I haven’t spoken to her since we got back from Vegas the other day.”
“How’d that go? I haven’t seen either one of you since you got back.”
“Just fine. The Cosgroves let us ride a few mares and pick out the ones we thought best for Penny’s Song. I’m arranging for their transport to the ranch. We should have them in time.”
“Thanks. That’s a big help.” Clay downed the rest of his drink. “So you and Callie worked okay together?”
Tagg nodded. What could he say? That he and Callie wore out the bedsheets in the Bellagio suite? That she’d given him another night of great sex? And that he’d deliberately stayed away from her since that day because nothing was going to come of it? “We did fine. She does know horses.”
Clay sat down on a wide wing chair and stretched his legs out. “I’m surprised she’s not here. This meeting was her idea. Seemed eager about it. You sure you didn’t do something to piss her off? I know you don’t like her.”
Tagg eyed his brother, his mouth tight. “Don’t go putting words in my mouth.”
“So, you do like her?”
“You hired her. I’ve got to work with her.” Tagg clammed up after that. Fact was, he did like Callie. But that didn’t change any thing.
“Surly this morning.”
“No more than usual,” Tagg said.
He glanced out the window again. There was no sign of Callie. Where the hell was she? He hated to admit it, but he’d been looking forward to seeing her. He’d gone home to an empty house and while that usually comforted and put him at ease, he’d found himself restless and tense. He’d thought about having a short-term affair with her and wondered if she’d want the same thing. He’d been ready to broach the subject on the flight home, but Callie had rested her head on his shoulder and fallen into a deep sleep. Tagg had draped an arm around her and closed his eyes to an unwelcome sense of peace with her in his arms. He’d attributed his softening emotions to another