Terms Of A Texas Marriage. Lauren Canan

would be past. Either way...” Ben made a small gesture with his hands, his palms turned upward, indicating the hopelessness of the situation.

      Shea sat back in her chair and stared out the large picture window. How could such a beautiful spring day suddenly turn so bleak and ugly? She trained her eyes squarely on Alec Morreston.

      “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

      “Yes,” he replied, his voice deep and throaty. “Thomas caught it and advised me a couple of months ago. You might want to ask your attorney why he didn’t see fit to inform you. Since he was obviously aware of your single marital status, it might have saved all of us a lot of time.”

      Her glance swung to Ben, who shrugged and shook his head. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I thought Mr. Morreston would view the outlandish clause for what it is. It never occurred to me he’d use it to his advantage to try and reclaim possession of the land.”

      “I don’t believe it,” she muttered. “I don’t believe any of this. Are you all trying to tell me I’ve got to take this...insanity seriously? That I’m going to lose my home, my ranch, everything my father and his father before that worked for, because I’m not married and won’t marry him?”

      The tone in her voice clearly painted the “him” as something disgusting and vile—which, at that moment, was spot-on. In spite of his sexual charisma, her conscious mind told her Alec Morreston was nothing more than a cold-blooded opportunist. And as far as this...lease...how could anyone in his right mind possibly make up such a stipulation?

      “Your loss was taken into consideration, Ms. Hardin.” Alec pointedly ignored her outburst. His composed voice resonated through the thick silence that had temporarily blanketed the small room. “I’m willing to provide reimbursement for the structures on the property, including the house, as well as compensate for one year’s ranch income. And, of course, the proceeds from the sale of your livestock and equipment will be yours, provided you choose to sell rather than relocate.”

      Shea glared at him, afraid to speak for fear it would release the torrent of fury welling up inside her. Comparing this man to the devil had been much too kind.

      “In addition,” Morreston continued, “I’m willing to provide adequate time for you to find another residence. We understand the relocation process will take longer than the standard sixty days.”

      “Alec is making a most generous offer, Ms. Hardin,” added Thomas Long, as though he felt compelled to point that out.

      Ignoring the attorney, she focused directly on the source of this insanity, on the devil incarnate. Sitting casually back in his chair, he appeared relaxed and completely indifferent to what amounted to the end of life as she knew it. Her basic principles, her education, her future dreams, pride in her family—all of it rested within the boundaries of the ranch. She couldn’t imagine what her life would be without it.

      “Why are you doing this?” Her voice was firm and unwavering, but her heart pounded and her stomach tied itself into knots.

      “It’s nothing personal, Ms. Hardin.” He tipped his head to one side as his eyes roamed over her face. “It’s just business.”

      “Oh, really?” she challenged. “That’s what you call it? Destroying a person’s life is ‘just business?’” She shook her head in amazement. “You must think you’ll make a small fortune on this deal.”

      “That’s always a possibility,” he admitted, shrugging his broad shoulders.

      “I’m curious. What’s it going to be? A dude ranch for your city friends or cheap housing that will fall apart in ten years?”

      “I don’t think Alec’s future plans for the land need discussion at this—”

      “It’s good land in a prime location,” Alec answered her, interrupting his attorney. “And the time for its development has come.” His eyes never left her face, his tone hard and unemotional.

      She couldn’t help but speculate if they would have been having this meeting if her dad were still alive. But common sense told her Morreston wanted the land and would have found other reasons to decline the renewal. This little “personal clause” was convenient and tailor-made to suit his purposes.

      “You could omit the clause and renew the lease.”

      “I could,” he admitted openly. “But I won’t.”

      Silently she studied the hard, chiseled features of his face.

      “Then there is no more to say, is there?” Standing, she gathered her papers and slipped them into the manila folder. She wouldn’t grovel before any man, especially some arrogant stranger from New York, particularly when she knew it would do no good. Her hands were trembling due to shock, but she refused to let these contemptuous strangers see any weakness.

      “Ben.” She pressed her lips together to cover the trembling. “I assume you’ll be in touch about what needs to be done?”

      On seeing his nod, she gave a tight smile and walked out of the room. Somehow, she cleared the outside door without slamming it. Only when she reached the sidewalk did her vision blur with unshed tears of anger and frustration. Seven months ago, she’d buried her father. And now, in the space of less than an hour, she’d learned she was losing her home.

      She swallowed back the overwhelming sense of panic. The ranch was her haven, her security. It was her past as well as her future. Her father had entrusted it to her care and she’d promised him in his final moments that his efforts—and the efforts of all the Hardins before them—would not be in vain.

      She was the last, the only one remaining, who could carry the Hardin legacy into tomorrow. Two hundred years of struggle and sacrifice, of unwavering strength, bravery and determination by her forefathers to fashion a better life from this small piece of earth, and now, the future rested squarely on her shoulders. The weight of it was staggering.

      Slipping behind the wheel of her old Chevy pickup, Shea tried recalling elements of the discussion. Even though Ben had conducted the meeting, she knew Alec Morreston had carefully orchestrated and controlled the entire presentation. Right down to her walking out of the room. The deliberate downplay of some factors of the contract, the strong focus on others. He was good. She had to give him that.

      But there was one thing she’d bet Morreston hadn’t taken into account. Her father had always said she was an obstinate, hardheaded female who never knew when to admit defeat. She had no intention of admitting failure so easily and giving in to that arrogant, money-grubbing son-of-a-bitch.

      Maybe she would lose her home. But maybe she wouldn’t.

      Ben had said she must be married before the contract expired. He hadn’t said she must be married to Alec Morreston, as his attorney had implied. Somewhere out there was a man who would agree to marry her for one year as a strictly business arrangement. She was going to find him.

      She squared her shoulders with renewed conviction and started the truck. There was a lot to do and a very short time in which to do it.

      * * *

      Alec and Thomas gathered their respective documents and prepared to leave Ben Rucker’s office. Ms. Hardin’s abrupt exit from the meeting, while anticipated, had ended any further need for discussion.

      Alec had to admit, he was impressed with Shea Hardin. She was not at all what he’d expected. In her midtwenties, she presented herself as having the maturity of someone much older. Even though this must have been devastating to her, she hadn’t shouted or cried or otherwise made a scene as so many others in her position might have done. She’d been upset, but that was understandable. Her parting words, quietly spoken to her attorney just before she’d left the room, indicated acceptance of the situation and what was to come.

      But had she really given up? His success in business was due in large part to following his gut instincts. Rarely in his thirty-six years had those instincts let him down. Right now they were screaming