McFarlane's Perfect Bride (7 page)

“I know you don't. And I realize that I might be hurt.”

“Might?” Allaire demanded.

Tori busted to the truth. “Okay. I guess it's likely, in the end. But I want to be with him more than I want to protect myself against heartbreak. Sometimes you just have to go for it, you know? Go for it and not count the cost.”

 

Connor couldn't stay away from Tori.

She drew him like a bee to a flower, a kid to a cookie jar. He stopped by her house that afternoon and confessed that he couldn't bear to keep away. Tori said she understood completely, that she felt the same.

That night, he went out to the Douglas Ranch, as
planned. Riley Douglas, who was Caleb and Adele's son and Grant Clifton's partner in running the resort, showed up, too. Riley was silent through most of the meal—silent and watchful. When Caleb and Connor discussed the resort, Riley said that he was sure he and Grant could turn things around, given time.

Caleb looked at his son and said in a weary tone, “Money's tight. You know that. And time is the one thing I don't have a lot of.”

“Just don't rush into anything,” Riley warned.

“I'm not rushing,” Caleb replied, sending Connor a telling glance. “I'm considering the options, son. Considering them fully.”

When he left the Douglas Ranch, Connor went straight to Tori's. She didn't ask if Caleb had offered to sell him the resort—or anything about what had happened during his visit with the Douglases. He knew she didn't want to know.

And he was more than content to say nothing of his meeting with Caleb. He only wanted to take her in his arms, to feel her soft body pressed close to his.

Tuesday morning after he took CJ and Jerilyn out to Melanie's, he got a call from Grant Clifton. Grant wanted to speak with him alone.

Connor drove up toward the resort, stopping off at the office complex down the mountain from the main lodge. Grant led him to his private office and shut the door.

Grant was furious, Connor could see that in the tightness of his square jaw. He said he'd talked to Riley Douglas that morning.

“Riley clued me in. I get the picture now, and I don't much like what I see. You want the resort and when
you get it, people who matter to me, people who have worked hard here, are going to be without their jobs.”

“Grant, come on. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

“I
liked
you,” Grant said with deadly softness. “I heard you were here to be with your son, to smooth over past differences with your sister. I admired that. Yeah, I also heard the rumors that you were interested in the resort. I didn't listen to what they said.”

“Grant, there's no reason for—”

“You're right.” Clifton cut him off. “Getting you here in my office and reaming you a new one isn't a very smart thing for me to do. But I'm just pissed off enough that I don't give a damn what's smart. I just want you to know that
I
know now you're not who I thought you were. You're no better than a vulture, McFarlane. And I wanted to say that to your face.”

Connor said nothing. With a curt nod, he turned for the door. Grant made no move to stop him.

As he drove down the mountain, Connor tried to remind himself that he'd been called worse things than a vulture. In the past, he'd never cared. He went after what he wanted and he got it and what people said didn't mean a thing.

Now, strangely, Grant Clifton's harsh words rankled. And he found himself worrying about Melanie and Russ, about their reaction when they learned he had plans for the resort. Tori had warned him he'd better tell Melanie what he was up to.

So he detoured to the Hopping H. He found Melanie in the kitchen, baking cookies. The kids, she said, were out in the barn with Russ.

She took a sheet of great-smelling snickerdoodles from the oven and set them on top of the stove. And
she turned to him. She frowned when she saw his face. “What? You look like somebody stole your dog.”

“I never had a dog.”

She chuckled. “Mother never would have allowed that. ‘They are so filthy, darlings.'” She imitated their mother's cool, aristocratic tones. “‘And the shedding.'” She faked a delicate shudder. “‘No. Impossible.'”

He laughed—and then instantly grew serious. “There's something I need to tell you.”

Now she looked worried. Really worried. “What? Is it about CJ? I think he's doing much better.”

“He is. It's not about him.”

“Well?”

He laid it on her. “I came here this summer for him. And to spend some time with you.”

“I know that, Connor. And I'm pleased that you're here.”

“And also to buy the Thunder Canyon Resort.”

“Yes,” she replied. “What else?”

“What do you mean, what else?” he demanded grimly. “That's it.”

“That you want to buy the resort?”

“Yes. I want to buy the resort and I thought you should know.”

She took off the fat oven mitt and waved her hand airily. “Oh, that. I knew that.”

He groped for a chair and lowered himself into it. “You did?”

“You're my brother, Connor. I know you. I know how your mind works. The resort is a different type of property than McFarlane House usually takes on. That makes it a challenge and you love a challenge. Plus, you
can probably get it for an excellent price. Of course, you'll go after it.”

His mouth was hanging open. He snapped it shut. “You knew all along.”

“I did. And I knew that you'd tell me about it eventually, when you were ready to discuss it.”

He confessed bleakly, “Grant Clifton just called me a vulture.”

Her eyes grew sad. “Yes, well. Grant found his calling, managing the resort. It's killing him to watch it fail. I'm sorry to hear he lashed out at you. Please don't take his cruel words to heart. He'll settle down in time. And my guess is that when he does, you'll get an apology.”

“But…he and Russ are best friends, aren't they?”

Now her expression was tender. “You're worried about Russ being angry with you?”

“Think about it. Russ and I didn't exactly get off to a great start. I've felt like we're slowly getting on a better footing. But I'm afraid if he gets an earful from Grant, I'll lose all the progress I've made with him.”

She sat down at the table with him and put her hand over his. “A girl could do a lot worse than to have a brother like you.”

Her words pleased him. Very much. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

“It's only the truth.”

“Well, lately, at least.”

“At least.” She chuckled. “And don't worry about Russ. He never liked the resort, thought it brought a lot more growth and questionable ‘progress' than Thunder Canyon ever needed. And he always believed that Grant was meant to be a rancher like his father and his father
before him. Russ is not going to resent you because Grant might have to consider a career change.”

 

That night, as planned, Tori had Connor and the kids over to her house for dinner. She thought it went well. And she couldn't help but notice that CJ actually looked at his father when he spoke to him.

Plus, there was a new contentment about Jerilyn. She said she liked the job at the Hopping H. And her dad seemed better. The day before, Butch had found a therapist from the list Tori's dad had provided. Insurance would pay the therapist's bill.

“It's a start, I think,” Jerilyn told them.

At a little after nine, Connor left with the kids. He would take Jerilyn home. Ryan would come with him and CJ to their house to spend the night. Gerda would take the boys out to the ranch in the morning, stopping to pick up Jerilyn along the way.

Tori stood out on the porch and waved as they drove away, and wished that he would be coming back later to see her alone. But Connor would be leaving first thing in the morning for Philadelphia, gone until Friday evening. She missed him already and wished they'd had a little privacy to enjoy a more intimate farewell.

But then she chuckled to herself. If she'd wanted to be alone with him tonight, she shouldn't have engineered dinner with the kids. She went inside, took a long, hot bath, watched some TV—and wasn't all that surprised when her doorbell rang at ten past twelve.

She didn't say a word. Just held out her eager arms to him.

 

Connor headed for Bozeman at five the next morning to catch his flight. The trip took longer than it would
have in the past. In an effort to cut costs, he flew commercial rather than enjoy the pricey comfort and privacy of a McFarlane House jet.

In Philadelphia, the meetings were endless and both his father and his mother were on his case every chance they got. They wanted him back home. Now. His father argued that the Thunder Canyon Resort was too big for their purposes, too much to take on. McFarlane House had always been a boutique brand. Sprawling resorts—especially failing ones—just weren't a good fit.

Connor listened and nodded. And then reminded them that there was a plan and he was sticking with it, that times were changing and McFarlane House had to change with them.

The flight back was a nightmare. Every plane he boarded had some mechanical issue or other. By late afternoon, he ended up calling everyone—Gerda, CJ and Tori. He told them he would be stuck in an airport hotel in Kansas City for the night. Tori said she missed him. He missed her, too, all out of proportion to the short time he'd been away. CJ asked permission to spend the night at Russ's ranch, the Flying J. One of Russ's mares had just foaled and another was about to. CJ hoped to be there to see the new foal born.

More calls ensued, to Melanie and Russ, who said CJ was welcome to bunk at the Flying J for the night. And that Russ would be glad to drive into town and pick CJ up.

So it was settled. Connor hung up the phone feeling really good. CJ had sounded so excited about the whole thing. More and more, he dared to hope that he was getting his son back, that CJ would move beyond the
trauma and pain of his parents' divorce, that he would be okay, after all.

The early flights the next morning, through Denver to Bozeman, went off without a hitch. By a little after ten, he was in his own SUV and on his way back to Thunder Canyon.

At the house, he was alone. Gerda had left a note saying she'd gone for groceries and his lunch was in the fridge. CJ was still out at the Flying J. He hauled his suitcase into his bedroom suite and grabbed the phone to call Tori.

The doorbell rang as he was dialing. He put the phone down and went to answer.

The last person he'd ever expected to see in Thunder Canyon was waiting on the other side. “Jennifer.”

She was looking gorgeous, as always, all in white. Her gold hair was streaked with platinum and her skin was a golden brown—no doubt from long, lazy days lounging in the sun on Constantin Kronidis's yacht. At the curb behind her, a gleaming black limo waited.

“Hello, Connor.” She pushed her giant, diamond-accented Versace sunglasses up over her forehead and anchored them in her hair. “I need to speak with you.”

This was not sounding especially good. But then again, what could she do to him now? The divorce was final, the property divided, custody of CJ settled.

He ushered her inside, into the living room, and gestured for her to sit. She took the sofa. He offered, to be civil, “Can I get you anything?”

She looked up at him, her beautiful face a cold mask. “My son, please.”

Last time I checked, he was my son, too,
Connor thought. But he kept his mouth shut. The words would
only come across as a jab. And at least until he knew what she was up to, he would refrain from antagonizing her.

He sat in the club chair across the coffee table from her. “CJ's out.” Instinct had him holding back on telling her where.

Of course, that was her next question. “Out where?”

He cut to the chase. “What do you want, Jennifer?”

She cast a dismissive glance around the room, which was attractive, high-ceilinged and expensively furnished, but certainly not up to her standards of luxury. “Constantin has asked me to marry him.”

“Congratulations,” he said with reasonable sincerity. “I hope you'll be very happy.”

“I'm sure we will. As for CJ, I've changed my mind.”

He didn't ask her what she'd changed her mind about. He knew she was going to tell him anyway. He braced himself for the bad news.

And she hit him with it. “On deeper reflection, I don't want my son spending the summer here. It's a waste of his precious time. He's behind in his studies and he needs desperately to catch up. So I've found a fine school in Switzerland, MonteVera, and enrolled him for the summer.”

C
onnor sat very still as he resisted the powerful urge to leap across the coffee table, grab his ex-wife by her slim shoulders and shake her until a little warmth and good sense spilled out.

He reminded himself that she
was
the mother of his child. And he hadn't been a good husband to her—in fact, he hadn't been much of a husband at all. She
had
taken good care of CJ in the past. Yes, she'd always been a distant and distracted mother. But she'd been there for CJ when Connor hadn't.

He thought of his own parents, for some reason. His mother had always been a lot like Jennifer. Present, but emotionally unavailable.

His father's voice crept into his mind.
You could just send Connor Jr. back to school. A summer without dis
tractions, time to focus on his studies. Do the boy a world of good.

For a moment, he wondered if somehow Donovan McFarlane and Jennifer were in on this thing together.

But then again, no. Jennifer and his parents had never really hit it off. And his father might think he owned the world, but he did have certain principles. Donovan would have considered it unconscionable to scheme against his only son with the woman who had disgraced the McFarlane name by divorcing said son.

“What's the matter, Connor?” Jennifer cooed. “I seem to have struck you speechless.”

In a carefully modulated tone, he reminded her, “In case you've forgotten, it was your idea that he spend the summer with me.”

She adjusted her sunglasses on top of her head, smoothed a hand down her hair. “Of course I haven't forgotten. But as I said a moment ago, I've rethought the situation. He needs to be closely supervised and this way, he'll have the summer to get on top of his studies and make up for his failure last year. Also, I know he's a burden to you, Connor. And I'm willing to take him off your hands.”

“No, thanks.”

She blinked her delft-blue eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I think you were right to send him to me. And it's working out well. It's good for him to get to know me, to spend time with his father. And I'm perfectly happy with having him here. He will stay with me. And I'll be more than happy to pay whatever penalties the school in Switzerland demands when you tell them that CJ won't be going there after all.”

“This is not about fees, Connor. This is about the welfare of our son.”

Our
son. Well. Progress. Of a sort. “Yes, it is about CJ's welfare. He and I are getting to know each other this summer. I think you'll agree that it's about time. He seems…happier every day. As to his schoolwork, he's catching up.” Okay. Total lie. But Connor would see to it that CJ hit the books, starting immediately.

Jennifer looked pained. “How is he catching up, here, in some nowhere town at the end of the earth?”

The lie reached his lips—and he let it out. “He has a tutor. A very qualified one, as a matter of fact. She teaches at the high school, on the advanced track.” Hey, that was partly true, at least. Tori did teach advanced placement English; he knew that for a fact.

“Some country schoolteacher is not good enough. He deserves the best. And MonteVera is world-class.” A slight frown creased her satin-smooth brow. “And I don't understand this. I thought you would be pleased to have him taken off your hands.”

Two weeks ago, she would have been right. If she'd shown up then to take CJ away, he'd have been only too happy to see his son go. But now…

Uh-uh. Maybe if he was honest with her, straightforward. Okay, it was a novel idea, but it might work.

He leaned toward her, willing her to understand. “Jennifer. The answer is no, he's not going away. The end of August is soon enough for him to go back to school. Try to see his side. He needs this time, here, with me. He's enjoying himself. And he and I…well, when we got here, he would hardly speak to me. That's changing. Slowly. If I send him away now, he won't ever forgive me.”

She flipped a thick swatch of that pale hair back over her shoulder, impatient. Thoroughly annoyed. “Connor. Will you listen to yourself? It's always about you, isn't it?”

So much for hoping she might understand. He sat back in his chair, putting as much distance as he could between them while still remaining seated. “I don't think
you
were listening. No, it's not about me. It's about CJ. The divorce has been hard on him.”

She huffed, turned her head away, wrapped her arms tightly around herself. “Now you're blaming me.”

“No, I'm not. I'm saying he's been hurt enough and he deserves a break. He likes it here in Thunder Canyon and I'm not taking this summer away from him because you've suddenly decided to go back on your own agreements and ship him off to Switzerland.”

“I am hardly
shipping
him off. I only want what's best for him.”

“Then let him have his summer here.”

She shot to her feet. “I want to see him. Now.”

“Not until you agree that you won't take him away with you.”

“I'll agree to no such thing. What I will do is call my lawyer.”

He gazed at her steadily. “Now, you're threatening me?”

She threw up a hand. “You have been a terrible, neglectful father, Connor.”

“I could have been better, true. I'm working hard at doing better now.”

“You're not hearing me. I'm about to remarry. Constantin can buy and sell you ten times over. I can trample you in court. Do you understand?”

“So, it's all about the money, as always, isn't it, Jennifer?” He said the words wearily. He really didn't want to fight with her. He thought they had both moved on.

Apparently he'd thought wrong.

She drew herself up. “I am telling you to think about it. Take a day or two. And if by Monday morning, you aren't ready to agree to send CJ to Switzerland, I'll be suing you for full custody. And I will win, too.”

The last thing he needed right now was another court battle with her, especially considering that she was absolutely right about her fiancé. Kronidis had very deep pockets.

But Connor wasn't going to back down on this. CJ's welfare was at stake. And in the past couple of weeks he'd learned at last that his son—and his son's high regard—meant a lot to him.

“I'll sue you right back,” he said icily. “And
I'll
win. Because I'm getting married, as well—to a wonderful, warmhearted woman. A woman who'll be there for CJ, a hands-on kind of mom. A teacher, as a matter of fact—CJ's tutor, whom I mentioned before.”

Dear God in heaven, what had he just said?

But the whopping lie was almost worth it—just for the look of stunned shock on his ex's face. Spots of flaming color rode high on those amazing cheekbones of hers. And the blue eyes shot sparks.

He added triumphantly, “Her name is Tori Jones. CJ is crazy about her. Almost as crazy as I am.”

Jennifer's sculpted nostrils were flaring. “Oh, you're crazy, all right. You are out of your mind.”

“No,” he answered with a slow smile. “In fact, I'm saner than I've ever been.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

He rose. “I think we've said about all we have to say to each other.”

If a look could kill, she'd have him dead where he stood. “I'll be back Monday,” she said. “Have CJ ready to go. I can find my own way out, thank you.”

“CJ is going nowhere.” He dropped back to the club chair as she turned for the door.

 

Once Jennifer was gone, Connor paced the floor, considering his options. They didn't change. It seemed very clear to him what he needed to do next. Too bad it was wrong. And a really big lie.

Not to mention totally unfair to Tori, whom he honestly cared about and had hoped never to hurt.

Still, at this point, he saw no other way out than to call his lawyers and let it go, count on them to fight Jennifer off. Her lawyers were at least as good as his.

And she had Kronidis's billions at her disposal.

No. He was going to fight this every way he could—if it turned out that Tori was willing to help him.

Willing to help him.

Strange. He'd been pacing back and forth for a half an hour, going over the various possibilities, and it had never occurred to him until that moment that he might try lying to Tori, too. That he could propose to her, tell her he'd changed his mind about everything, that he loved her and wanted to marry her and make a home with her, right there in Thunder Canyon. And then when the summer was over, he could plead cold feet and break it off with her.

He almost smiled. First off, she was smarter than that. She would know something wasn't right, for him to flip-flop like that, out of nowhere. Also, she was way
too likely to find out about Jennifer and her threats. She'd figure out what he was up to then, for certain.

But even beyond the low probability he could pull it off, he just wasn't willing to lie to her. If she went into this with him, it should be with her eyes wide open.

He called the Flying J. Russ answered and went and got CJ from the barn.

“Dad, hey. You're home.”

Home.
The way his son said that word…it was everything. The last of Connor's doubts about asking Tori to help him with this fell away. He would do anything to keep CJ where he wanted to be for the whole damn summer.

“I'm here,” he said, and meant it in more ways than one. “What's up with the baby horses?”

CJ chuckled. “Foals, dad.”

“Right. Foals. Well?”

“Ryan and I are trying to decide on a name for the one born Friday. And the other hasn't come yet. So I was wondering…”

“You want to stay over another night, is that it?”

“Yeah. I was hoping it might be okay.”

“What does Russ say?”

“He says it's okay.”

In the background, he heard Russ's voice. “Fine with me.”

“All right. Until tomorrow morning.” They had a few big things to talk about. And they needed to do that before Jennifer came back Monday.

“Okay, Dad. I really gotta go. That foal is coming any minute now, I can just feel it.”

Connor murmured a goodbye and heard the click as CJ hung up. He called Tori.

She answered on the first ring. “You're back.”

The sound of her voice made his arms ache to hold her. “I want to see you.” The words came out low. Rough. Hungry. Not all that surprising, since he
was
hungry. For her.

A low laugh escaped her, a laugh that teased him. “I'm home. Come over right now.”

 

Tori was at the door, waiting for him, when he rang the bell.

She yanked it wide and sighed at the sight of him, so tall, so handsome. Her own personal corporate shark, who had somehow turned out to be the man she longed for. The kind of man she could believe in. She beamed up at him. “I thought you'd never get here.”

His dark gaze ran over her, head to toe and back up again. “I know exactly how you feel.” And then he reached for her.

She swayed toward him, lifting her mouth for that first, delicious kiss. He covered her lips with his, wrapping his arms good and tight around her, lifting her feet right off the floor, so he could carry her back across her threshold and shove the door shut behind them with his foot.

He kept walking, to the open door just beyond the foyer and right through it. The second he lowered her feet to the rug by the bed, she started tugging on his shirt, unzipping his trousers.

As she undressed him, he did the same for her. He took her camisole top by the hem and pulled it up and off. He undid her shorts and pushed them down. She was naked in no time.

And so was he. They fell across the bed together
rolling, kissing as they caressed each other, each so eager, starving for the simple thrill of the other's hungry touch.

She needed no slow seduction. Not today. Her body was ready for him just from his kiss, from his long, knowing fingers parting her, stroking her. She stuck out a hand and fumbled for the small drawer by the side of the bed.

Since their first time, she'd moved the condoms front and center, with some loose and waiting, outside the box. She grabbed one, broke their endless kiss long enough to rip the top off the pouch with her teeth.

“Now,” she whispered to him.

“Oh, yeah…” He rolled them again, so they were on their sides, facing each other.

She reached down between them, loving the hard, hot length of him, as well as the way he moaned when she positioned the condom and rolled it down over him, fitting it smooth and tight.

“Now,” he groaned again, and rolled her under him. She opened for him, so ready.

And then he was in her. She wrapped her legs around him. There was only pure sensation, of his body pressed to hers, his hardness filling her, his hips rocking into hers in a rhythm she knew by heart.

She grabbed him closer. She held on so tight. The pleasure bloomed wide, and then contracted in a shimmer of sparks and light.

 

Her bathtub wasn't that large, but it was big enough for two.

They went in there and filled it and sank into the welcoming heat together. He made his body a cradle
for hers and she leaned back against his strong chest and shut her eyes.

“Heaven,” she whispered on a sigh. “This, and the rest of it. I love it when you're touching me.” His arm, dusted with silky dark hair, rested on the rim of the tub. She ran a wet finger along the strong length of it. “And I love touching you…”

He nuzzled her neck. “It's mutual. Take my word for it.” And then he pulled away enough to rest his dark head back on the towel she'd given him to use as a pillow. He was still.

Too still?

Some sharp instinct had her turning to glance over her damp shoulder at him. “Connor?”

“Umm?” He had his eyes closed, his head back, cradled by the towel.