The Marriage Bargain. Susan Fox P.
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“I can’t wear this,” Hallie whispered
She couldn’t wear the beautiful engagement ring, she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t take her eyes from it. And she couldn’t keep her heart from breaking over the gesture.
“Please…take it off,” Hallie begged.
“It’s tradition,” Wes insisted.
“This isn’t a real marriage,” she got out hastily.
She couldn’t bear the new sharpness in his dark eyes and her gaze fled his. She pulled her hand from his and immediately took hold of the ring to take it off.
Wes caught her hands before she could remove the ring….
What kind of man makes the perfect husband?
A man with a big heart and strong arms—someone tough but tender, powerful yet passionate….
And where can such a man be found?
In our brand-new miniseries:
Marriages made on the ranch…
The Marriage Bargain
Susan Fox
MILLS & BOON
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
HALLIE Corbett stared at the elderly man on the hospital bed. Grave illness hadn’t dimmed Hank Corbett’s harshness or the spite in his nature.
“You heard me,” he panted. His gray eyes bore into hers. Gunmetal gray. Like a pair of Colts aimed at her brain, threatening her heart, imperiling the only life she’d ever known.
“You don’t get a dime or a single Corbett investment. Candice gets all that.”
Hallie was stoic. She’d learned early in life that showing emotion made her a target for attack. She sensed a follow-up to her grandfather’s declaration. He always threw her a crumb, some insignificant scrap that kept her in the game.
He’d made her an emotional gambler. He’d barred her from his heart, but he always dangled something to keep her in range, to keep her hoping. And, like a dog about to starve to death, she always grabbed for the scrap. Though the crumb often turned out to be a mirage, it was the promise of a win that lured her.
And hope. Hope that the old man had let her stay on all these years because he had some fondness for the illegitimate child of his disgraced daughter.
Shaky promises and hope. Her real enemies, not the old man on the bed or her cousin, Candice, the granddaughter Hank Corbett doted on.
Her voice was low, but loud enough for him to hear. “What about the ranch?”
“Four C’s belongs to the Corbett worthy to carry on the legacy.”
Hallie felt the familiar surge of jealousy and frustration, but was careful to keep her tone neutral. “Legacy means nothing to Candice. She’ll have a buyer before they close your grave.”
The words were brutal, but she ignored the shiver of guilt. She was fighting for her home, for the only thing she might ever have.
The old man’s eyes sparkled with interest. He was like a wolf who’d caught a whiff of fresh blood. “You want it bad, don’t you?”
Her lips went stiff with the effort to suppress a tremor of emotion. She didn’t answer because they both knew she wanted the ranch. She loved the land. It didn’t play favorites. It was no more harsh with her than it was with anyone else. She’d made peace with its wildness; it was in her blood.
Four C’s Ranch was the only place she really did belong. And it wasn’t the house or family that had given her a feeling of place, but the Texas soil itself and all that was nurtured by it. She’d held out this long for a chance at ownership. At least a piece.
The elderly man on the bed chuckled then choked, his face going red with the coughing spasm that silenced his mirth. Hallie made no move toward the bed because he’d reject her display of concern. He’d never allowed her to express even a hint of affection. He’d never offered her any.
When he recovered from the spasm, he closed his eyes. Hallie thought at first that he was dismissing her, but then his eyes opened and shot straight to hers. The gleam was back.
“You’ve been a shame on this family since your mama brought you home to me. But you’re blood, however you got bred. Won’t leave