The Great Texas Wedding Bargain. Judy Christenberry

      “Think you could get this recipe?”

      She rolled her eyes. The man thought with his stomach. Her gaze dropped to that flat, muscular area of his body. When she lifted her gaze again, it slammed into his. “Uh, probably.”

      “Good.”

      She struggled for another topic of conversation. “Uh, you must like computers.”

      His fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

      Megan raised an eyebrow when he glared at her before taking a bite. “Is something wrong?”

      “No. I like computers, okay?”

      His aggressive attitude bothered her. “I didn’t mean to intrude. But you’ve got a lot of expensive equipment in that room. Maybe you shouldn’t leave the door unlocked.”

      “No one locks up out here in the country.”

      “Oh. Do you…do you spend a lot of time on the computer?”

      He put his fork down. “Not now. In the winter, I do a little—that is, I work at the computer. I’m developing a system that helps me keep track of things here on the ranch.”

      Relief flooded Megan, surprising her. She hadn’t realized how worried she’d been. After all, she was going to marry the man. “Oh, good. That could be helpful to a lot of people.”

      “Yeah,” he assured her with a grin. “But I don’t have time for much right now. Not with calves being born day and night.”

      “At night? Are you going back out again tonight?”

      He rubbed the back of his neck, then shrugged his shoulders. “I brought a couple of cows in for the night. I’ll check on them later.”

      “What about the vet?”

      His brown eyes looked puzzled. “What about him? Are you interested in him?”

      “No!” Megan returned, her cheeks flushing. “I meant did you call the vet to help with the calves.”

      “You don’t know much about ranching, do you?”

      “No, I’m from the city,” she said defensively, stiffening her shoulders. “And it doesn’t matter. After all, I’m not really going to be a rancher’s wife. It’s just pretend.”

      He looked away. “Yeah, pretend.”

      Megan stared at him in alarm. “You still want to do this, don’t you?”

      RICK STARED at the beautiful woman across from him. She really needed to rethink her question. This could mean a lot of different things, including some highly stimulating—he halted his thoughts before he got carried away.

      Clearing his throat, he nodded. “Yeah.”

      “There’s also chocolate cake, if you’ve finished the casserole,” she said, watching him.

      He couldn’t help the pleasure that filled him. “Homemade chocolate cake?”

      “Yes. Mom made it.”

      “I’d love some.”

      She got up from the table and moved to the counter. He hadn’t noticed the cake plate sitting there, but he practically drooled when she removed the cover. He loved chocolate cake.

      After putting a piece in front of him, she began clearing the table.

      “Hey, I’ll do that,” he protested.

      “No need. I’m not going to have cake, and you’ve agreed to look at my car for me. It’s a fair exchange. In fact, I’ll probably be in your debt if you can fix my car.”

      “So we’re going to work on the barter system? You do something for me and I do something for you?”

      She looked embarrassed, which only made her skin more tantalizing. He wanted to warm his fingers on her cheeks.

      “This isn’t a normal marriage. I think we need to establish some rules.”

      “Okay. What is a chocolate cake worth? ’Cause I’m going to be needing a lot of it.”

      “You like it? I’ll tell Mom.”

      “Like it? I think your mother is a genius. This is the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had.” He added his best smile with the compliment.

      Megan chuckled and he loved the sound. It was husky, warm, inviting. It made him want to hold her against him, feel the laughter move through her body.

      Whoa! He was going to be in big trouble if he thought that way.

      “You’re too easy. Mom will love cooking for you.”

      “Good.”

      They stared at each other, tension building. Finally, she moved back to the sink, grabbing the dishcloth as if it were a life raft. “I’ll…I’ll finish cleaning while you look at my car.”

      “Okay. I’d better wash my hands first. Wouldn’t want to get chocolate icing on your car.” He moved to the sink and she hurriedly backed away. “I don’t bite,” he said, keeping his voice mild.

      “No, of course not. I didn’t want to get in your way.”

      Rick didn’t believe her. He’d felt the tension a moment ago. The same tension they’d felt when they’d run into each other in the hall. When he was naked. And wished she was.

      Was he crazy to think he could share the house with this woman and not feel anything? He couldn’t find relief somewhere else, not if he was married to her. He was about to enter a celibate period in his life.

      About to? He almost snorted with derisive laughter. He’d been celibate for a couple of years now. After his divorce, he’d tried dating, but he discovered the women he’d met had a hidden agenda. First him, then his money. Whatever it took.

      So he’d accepted a different life-style. And been happy with it until today. Or actually Saturday when he’d first met Megan Ford. What was it about her that stirred him?

      Other than her beauty. Her body. Her smile. Her sad story. Her selflessness. Her family.

      He shook his head. He could go on listing things he liked about her forever.

      “You won’t look at my car?”

      “What? Of course, I will. I said I would.”

      “But you were shaking your head no.”

      He smiled at her, barely restraining the urge to drop a kiss on her soft lips. “I was thinking about something else. I’ll go look at your car right now.”

      “Thank you,” she said, offering him that special smile again.

      He almost stumbled in his hurry to move away before he forgot why he should.

      “I’ll be outside.”

      She nodded.

      He turned his back and rushed outside, taking a deep breath of the spring night air.

      Then he moved to the economy sedan she drove. Like he was a mechanic. Well, he could at least look at it. He knew a little about cars.

      She’d left the keys in the ignition. He slipped behind the wheel and turned them, just in case she’d been wrong. No such luck.

      He reached down and released the hood and got out of the car. With the porch light on, he thought he’d be able to see well enough to tell if the damage was something he could handle.

      Propping up the hood, he scanned the motor. Then his gaze reached the battery.

      Bingo.

      The negative battery wire was disconnected. He frowned. Why would that happen? Driving on a rough road wouldn’t pull the wire loose. It probably required a wrench to loosen it.