Page 34 of Return of the Rancher

“How soon will you be traveling again?” she asked.

“Probably next week. I need to spend a day or two in LA. Not long.”

“What’s in LA?”

“A string of movie theaters I’m considering buying. They’ve been allowed to get dingy, and they’ve been poorly managed. A friend told me about them. The company is solid in spite of everything. I like to keep my holdings diversified.”

“I remember that about you. In fact, I must have picked up your expertise by osmosis. I’ve been able to invest small amounts here and there. Enough to feel secure.”

Farris set down his fork, his eyes blazing with strong emotion. “You’ll always be secure, Inkie. Even though you refused a divorce settlement, I’ve been putting money in an account for you most of the time we’ve been separated. Ten thousand dollars a month for the last two years.”

Her jaw dropped. There was something odd about that explanation, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “That’s absurd. I won’t take your money, Farris. I don’t need it. I am not your wife. We aren’t a couple. You have no responsibility for me at all.”

“I’ll get more wine,” he said, ignoring her protests.

She fumed. When he returned, she blasted him. “I’m not the naive kid you married. I don’t need a man to coddle me.”

He set the wine bottle on the table and glared at her. “I have the money. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a very big deal, actually. It’s insulting.”

His expression darkened. “My being nice to you is insulting?”

Why was she so upset? Truthfully, Farris’s streak of honor and generosity was admirable. But if he couldn’t be honest with her about why their marriage had foundered on unseen rocks, she was not willing to accept his money, no matter how rich he was.

“Let me rephrase that,” she said, inhaling and exhaling and reaching for calm. “I didn’t marry you for your money, and I didn’t divorce you for your money. I’d rather not have something like that between us. Friendship? Yes...maybe. But not a ledger sheet.”

Farris exhaled, as well, his temper subsiding as quickly as it had blown up. “Well, I suppose it’s a moot point. The money will always be there. One day, when you have kids, it could pay for college.”

Farris watched as India shook her head. “Do you think it would be appropriate for you to educate another man’s child?” she asked.

Her smile was gentle, noncombative. But the question cut him off at the knees. He had never thought of it that way. In his mind, he had been helping India.

Picturing that mystery man in Inkie’s life, in her bed, scared and infuriated him. “Well, give it away, damn it,” he said. “I don’t care what you do.” The money was his penance, his cash fine for screwing up.

India was still seated, her wide-eyed gaze watchful. He didn’t want her dissecting his psyche. It made him feel raw.

Dessert waited in the kitchen, but he had lost his appetite. “I need to catch up on some work emails,” he muttered. “I’m glad you joined me for dinner.”

All he could think about was escaping. India was never going to trust him again unless he told her the truth. And that, he could not do. Which meant he was going to bed alone tonight.

Before he could reach the door to the hallway, India was on her feet. It hurt to look at her. On some women, black was a somber color. India glowed. And her legs, those long shapely legs...

When she grasped his arm, it halted his forward progress. He hung there, too tormented to stay, too mindful of her feminine touch to go.

She waited patiently until he turned to face her. “Except for the arguing,” she said, “that was a very romantic dinner, Farris. I assumed you had something else in mind for later.”

“There’s dessert in the kitchen,” he said gruffly. “I’m not hungry.”

“I wasn’t talking about dessert.” She shook her head as if he was a slightly dim student. “I was talking about sex. Why else did I get dressed up for you?” She moved closer, twining her arms around his neck. “You look hot in that suit, Farris. Handsome, sexy...”

She pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He froze, sensing danger. “Wasn’t it only this morning that you told me we shouldn’t have sex?”

Her smile was wry. “Shouldn’t. It’s in the same category as we shouldn’t drive fast, we shouldn’t eat carbs, we shouldn’t procrastinate.”

“I’ve been known to do all those things.”

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