Marriage At Any Price. Lauren Canan

to Seth Masters’s right as a woman on a large thoroughbred came out of nowhere. She gave a cue, and the immense muscles in the animal’s hind legs propelled the steed and its rider up and over the hood of Seth’s low-slung sports car. He fought to bring the car to a screeching halt, narrowly missing one of the pines that grew on both sides of the country road. The rider stopped as well, turned the chestnut around and headed back to the car. She didn’t look happy.

      “You’re an idiot!” she said as she brought the horse to a stop a few feet from the car. “Didn’t you see the signs saying Slow Down, Bridle Path Ahead? Can’t you read? You almost got us killed! Who goes eighty on a one-lane backwoods road?”

      “I wasn’t going eighty.”

      “Couldn’t prove it by me!”

      Seth was flooded with emotions: shock, relief that no one was hurt, an underlying sense of unease that he’d been driving too fast. But through all the self-recrimination, one thought stood out: the woman was magnificent. Rich auburn hair swirled about her almost angelic face, and though her green eyes sparkled with anger, they were stunning. Her slim, beautiful body seemed too slight to control the huge thoroughbred that tossed his head and pawed the ground, pulling air into its massive lungs. Obviously she was an expert rider, something Seth was enormously grateful for right now.

      He opened the door and pushed out of the Ferrari. What could he say? He’d been so wrapped up in his own thoughts he hadn’t paid any attention to the signs.

      “I apologize. Sincerely. I hope you weren’t hurt.”

      “Just slow down. The riding path crisscrosses the road several times over the next few miles. Needless to say, the next time you might not be so lucky.”

      Even in anger her voice was clear and attractive.

      “Point taken.”

      She homed in on his face and tipped her head as a frown crossed her fine features.

      “You’re not from around here.” It was a statement as much as a question.

      “Los Angeles.”

      She opened her mouth as if she was about to say something else then must have thought better of it and shook her head.

      “Could you tell me how far out I am from Calico Springs?”

      “By the posted speed limit, about twenty minutes.”

      “Thanks,” he replied, taking in her sexy-as-hell physique as she turned the stallion around and headed back in the direction they’d come, disappearing into the trees.

      Seth returned to the car and started the engine. He hoped this wasn’t a sign of what was in store this trip. He had to remember this wasn’t LA—it was rural Texas, and things worked at a slower pace. Still not able to completely shake off the close encounter, he eased back out onto the narrow road and continued in the direction of Calico Springs.

      Attorney Ben Rucker’s office, an old Victorian house just off the town square, was easy to spot. It fit in perfectly with the other buildings along Main Street. Calico Springs was quaint. Innocent. Like a town out of the past. There were planters filled with flowers and wooden park benches in front of most of the stores and shops. After parking the car, he made his way inside the lawyer’s air-conditioned office and gave his name to the receptionist.

      “Of course, Mr. Masters. Mr. Rucker has been expecting you. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

      Minutes later Seth was seated across from the elderly attorney.

      “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Masters. I take it this is the first time you’ve been to Calico Springs?”

      “Actually, I’ve been here several times. I met my half brothers and enjoyed the area when I was a young boy. I’ve been back a dozen or so times since then. The last time was about five years ago.”

      The attorney chuckled. “You certainly carry the family resemblance. You are most definitely a Masters.”

      “I wanted to come down early and see the ranch again. Do my brothers know I’m here?”

      “I told them you were coming. Chance and Cole are in New York, and Wade and his wife are in London. They will all be back next week for the probate of the will.”

      Seth nodded. He’d been brought up the only child of a single mother. Then when he was six years old, his father had insisted he come to the ranch and meet his half brothers. Even at that age, he’d been nervous. But they had taken the news of his existence better than he’d hoped and welcomed him into the family. Those dozen or so summers he’d spent on the ranch were wonderful memories, and he looked forward to seeing everyone again.

      “I must admit I’m curious about the will.”

      “I can understand.” Mr. Rucker sat back in his leather chair. “Did you know your father very well?”

      Seth shrugged. “About as much as anyone knew him, I guess. I saw him maybe a dozen times in my life. Mother wouldn’t talk about him. I never saw or heard from him again after I entered Stanford, although I always suspected there was communication between him and my mother.”

      As he’d grown older, Seth had begun to realize that the home where he and his mother lived and the cars she drove were beyond the means of a single working mother who had no advanced degree. There had to be another source of funds. And though he’d been awarded a partial scholarship to attend Stanford, it hadn’t nearly covered all the expenses. Yet when he needed money, it was always provided.

      “From what little I know,” Mr. Rucker said, “you would be right. Your father spoke highly of you when we were drafting the will. But he was never a man comfortable with family. Either of his families, as it turns out. His work always took priority. I guess he had his own reasons why he couldn’t relate.”

      “I guess.” Seth nodded. “The reason I mention the will is I sit on the boards of two regional hospitals, and a new research facility focusing on leukemia is on the table. The more funding we can get for it, the better. If I stand to inherit anything, it will certainly help me move things along.”

      The attorney nodded then seemed to hesitate. “Mr. Masters, you understand I cannot discuss the will without all heirs being present. But that said, I feel it only fair to ask if you’re married.”

      “Married?” The question seemed odd. He’d come close once. It had ended badly. He’d given his heart to Gwen Jeffers, and she’d returned his love by having an affair with another man. He hadn’t thought of getting married to anyone since. He liked life in the fast lane. Free of responsibility to anyone but himself and his companies. “No,” he replied. “Not me. Why do you ask?”

      “Well, there’s a stipulation that needs to be met by the time we’re in probate, so I’d better discuss this with you. One of the requirements of the will is that each of you boys be married. Mr. Masters never explained his reasoning. It may have had something to do with his own experiences in life. I’ll never know for sure. But, of course, he had the right to set any conditions he wanted. If any of you aren’t married by the day the will is probated, you’ll be dropped from the will, and any financial assets or land holdings will revert to the other married sons or, in specific circumstances, to charity. As of now, you’re the only one who doesn’t meet the requirement.

      “I tried to call to discuss this with you a few weeks ago, but you were out of the country. I left several messages with your office. I asked your brothers if they knew your marital status, but they couldn’t say for sure—apparently you haven’t been in touch recently.”

      “I see. Yeah, I have a boatload of calls I need to return. I regret not getting in touch sooner. This news is disappointing.” And that was an understatement. “But—it is what it is. I look forward to seeing my brothers again and meeting their wives. It isn’t every day I get to spend time with them.”

      “That’s true.” The lawyer chuckled. “It’s too bad about the will. It sounds like the research