The Texan's Contract Marriage

Six

Camille tried to catch her breath. Her heart pounded, and every nerve was alive. She wanted Marek, but she had meant her argument. What she hadn’t told him was that she was not going to fall into his arms and into his bed at the first few kisses because it would be totally meaningless to him.

Sooner or later he would overcome his grief and he would want her physically, but it was lust and nothing else. If she succumbed, it was not going to be the first afternoon they were husband and wife, when they had nothing between them except working out this paper marriage and Noah’s care.

She intended to stick to what she had said, even though her body clamored for more. She wanted his kisses, wanted his lovemaking, but common sense said at this point that was the road to disaster. If she went to bed with him, she wanted him to be aware of her as a desirable woman, to remember she was his wife, to truly want her and know her way better than he did at the moment.

His brown eyes had darkened to midnight, and he was breathing heavily. He looked as if he could devour her. She didn’t know whether he was weighing her argument or trying to get desire under control as he stood staring at her.

Walking away from him, she viewed the open living area in front of her.

“This is fantastic,” she declared, trying to focus on something besides Marek and her own desire for more kisses. “It’s perfect and more than I dreamed.” The entrance opened into an airy, large living area with columns dividing the room from an adjoining dining area. Floor-to-ceiling glass doors opened to a veranda that ran the length of the house. Beyond it was the pool with fountains and gardens that overlooked the white beach and clear blue water. Tall palms ran along one side of the veranda, and there were palms scattered between the white beach and the water.

Camille walked outside, inhaling deeply and holding out her arms. “It’s gorgeous.” She spun around to tell him. He stood only a few feet behind her, watching her with such cool speculation in his eyes that her pulse jumped. Was he thinking about their marriage and what it might mean?

“This is perfect, Marek. I’m so happy with it. I won’t want to leave.”

“Yes, you will. You’ll miss Noah. You’ll feel guilty about missing your voice practice and language studies.”

“I plan to do those here.”

“Because of Noah, you’ll be ready to leave, but I’m glad you like it. For now we can change and swim or we can just sit out here, have drinks and then dinner.”

“A swim. I have to get into that water. I’ll beat you there,” she said, rushing past him, and he smiled again.

He was ready first, waiting when she came out. She wore a pink T-shirt that came to mid-thigh and hid her curves. She was aware of his scrutiny, far more aware of him. He wore plaid trunks. His muscled chest was bare; his broad shoulders and arms were hard muscles, probably from the ranch work he did. He had a smattering of dark chest curls and his legs were long. Realizing she was staring, she dropped her things and pulled off her T-shirt, hotly aware that he watched her.

She turned, flipping her head, causing her hair to swing back over her shoulders.

“I’ll race you in,” she said, dashing past him. In seconds he passed her and ran in the water ahead of her, splashing out until it was deep enough to swim. After a few strokes he turned to watch her as she caught up.

“You’re a good swimmer,” he said.

“You’re better. You beat me.”

“I used to compete in swimming a long time ago.”

“Then I won’t challenge you again.”

“You challenge me on a regular basis,” he said in a husky voice. He was flirting with her. A subtle change in their relationship.

“I didn’t think you noticed.”

“I’m not completely numb.”

“Did you say ‘numb’ or ‘dumb’?” she asked sweetly, teasing him. He laughed and splashed her with a wave of water. She shrieked and swam away. In a flash he caught up and swam beside her. He grasped her upper arm lightly while he treaded water.

“See that buoy?” he said, pointing at an orange buoy that bobbed gently in the small waves. “They told me that is the farthest out we should swim. It’s much deeper and tides are stronger.”

Glancing back at the beach, she was surprised how far they had come. “This water is beautiful.”

“It’s prettier when you snorkel. I have all-new equipment on the beach.”

“Then, Mr. Expert Swimmer, I’ll race you back to it,” she said, starting to swim as vigorously as possible. For a few seconds, he let her lead and then he passed her. When she walked out of the water, he waited, and she could feel his gaze drifting slowly over her in a long, leisurely look that became almost a caress. She tingled from head to toe. Desire ignited, a flame deep inside. Her awareness heightened of the skimpiness of her two-piece red suit.

“Where’s the snorkel equipment?”

“Maybe we should just stay out here and enjoy the scenery,” he drawled, still studying her.

“I think that’s the way to complications. We discussed this earlier,” she said without moving. She tried to keep her gaze on his face, to keep from looking him over as he was her. He was breathtaking, masculine, sexy.

“Marek, where did you put the equipment?”

“Camille, the best equipment on this beach is what I’m looking at,” he said, walking to her. “You’re gorgeous. I can’t stop looking,” he added.

“Yes, you can,” she said, her words sounding distant to her. “Snorkel equipment or I go inside and dress.”

He walked up to place his hands on her shoulders and she was riveted, her threat of leaving impossible to carry out. His light touch burned as if it had been a brand. Aware of him only inches away, she tingled. Could he hear her pounding heart?

His arm slipped around her waist. “You’re bringing me back to life. I didn’t think it was possible.”

“For that, I’m glad,” she said, meaning it, but barely able to focus on conversation. His hands were on her, his body only inches away and both of them wore very little. All her cool reserve had shattered, and the look in his eyes was something new in their relationship, yet age-old, blatantly sexy. She was breathless, too aware of his body, his arm around her and his mouth so close. She looked up into dark eyes with fire in their depths.

“For the first time in over a year I feel alive,” he whispered. He drew her closer and leaned down to kiss her. His mouth was on hers, his tongue stroking her with slow deliberation that made her pounding heart race.

She slid her hands over his smooth back, pressed against him and felt his arousal. Her arms tightened as she returned his kiss eagerly, unable to resist, knowing they both had just crossed a line.

There would be no going back from this fiery kiss to an occasional peck on the cheek. She closed her eyes tightly, relishing the feel of his hard muscles, his strength, the deepening passion in his kisses.

His hands ran over her back and bottom, down along her bare thighs.

She finally ended the kisses. “Slow down, Marek. This changes everything far too fast. Let’s cool down before our lives take another turn and complications beset us.”

Breathing hard, he gazed at her with longing in his expression. With a pounding heart, she tried to cling to the sensible speech she had just made, but that wasn’t what her heart wanted. She stepped back. “We should swim,” she whispered. She passed him, heading to the water to cool down and to put some distance between them. Their lives had just taken another major turn. Was it already out of her control?

He showed her how to wear her goggles. His casual touches were even more disturbing than before. She had always had a reaction to him, but not as intense as it had now become. Desire was a constant, a hot, running need that she hoped to control.

In minutes, the fascinating sea creatures swimming around her captured her attention. Finally, Marek tugged on her arm and motioned to get out.

As they surfaced, she took off the breathing tube. Marek was beside her. Tall, muscular, appealing—how could she return to being casual, unaffected? Close to shore, they could easily stand in water that was only a little over four feet deep.

“It’s later than you think. Let’s have a drink and then dinner so I can release the staff for this evening.”

“Certainly. That was fascinating. I want to come back in the morning,” she said, thinking Marek was far more fascinating.

He looked amused. “You can snorkel all day if you’d like. The fish won’t mind.”

“When was the first time you came here?”

“I’ve never been to this particular villa, but the Caymans, probably when I was five or six. I don’t even remember.”

“You’ve done it all. No wonder nothing excites you.”

“Oh, yes, there are things that excite me,” he replied, his voice changing as he flirted again.

“I’m not asking what.”

“Who, not what. You already know the answer.”

Pulling on her T-shirt, she wriggled it down over her hips, glancing around to see him watching her.

She picked up all her things. “I’ll change and be back.”

“Sure,” he said, flipping a towel over his shoulder as he headed inside with her.

After a shower, she dressed in a deep blue cotton sundress and sandals and dried her hair, letting it fall loosely over her shoulders. When she went outside, he was waiting at the table. He looked relaxed in chinos and a navy knit shirt. A chilled bottle of champagne was on ice and he had already partially filled two flutes. He handed one to her and picked up the other.

“Here’s to a happy union that blesses all concerned, especially Noah.”

“I’ll drink to that,” she said, touching his glass lightly, watching bubbles rise in the pale golden champagne. She sipped her drink and looked out to sea.

“Sit here, Camille. We’ll have our drinks before dinner.”

She sat in a lawn chair, and he sat in another close beside her. “This is truly beautiful, Marek, and I’m having a wonderful time.”

“I’m glad,” he said, gazing at the water. She was beginning to be able to tell when he was thinking of his fiancée and grief was present because his voice and expression were both remote.

“This is the hardest time of day. Sundown. Somehow it seems a time of loss. The sunshine is gone, the night isn’t here. This is when I’ve had a bad time. You’d think it would be late at night, which sometimes it is, but this time of day really gets me.” He talked, but she thought he had almost forgotten her. He was looking toward the horizon. To the west the sun was a ball of orange fire only half-visible above the horizon.

She couldn’t think of anything to say that would help him. He was wrapped in his own world, and his hurt was understandable, but at least today, he had had moments when his pain had lifted and she had glimpsed the lively man he was before the crash.

She gazed out to sea, still shocked that she was locked into a marriage of convenience with a man who might always love another woman. Would he break her heart if she fell in love with him? She would do exactly as her father had suggested—keep the money tucked away so she could return it if this arrangement did not work out to everyone’s satisfaction.

“Marek, what do you want from life? You’ve already been enormously successful in business. You have the ranch you love.”

“I want to be a dad for Noah. I hope our marriage and this arrangement work out.”

“Aside from Noah, what do you hope to achieve? You have an enormous fortune, so it’s not that. What is it?”

“Still make money. Also to help others. I have certain charities and, of those, there are a few I’m particularly interested in. I’ve established a ranch for homeless kids. It’s not far out of Fort Worth. Some kids are there on a temporary basis, some permanent. I’ve gone through our church.”

“That’s great,” she said, surprised by his answer.

“Don’t sound so startled that I would help someone.”

“I’m just surprised at the particular project.”

“I only put up the money and helped them get established, but I’ve liked working with them occasionally. For my own pleasure I’ve done calf roping in rodeos this past year—and won, amazingly enough. That takes my mind off everything else. Do you like rodeos?”

“I know as much about them as you do opera.”

“Maybe a rodeo is like an opera—you either love it or you don’t like it at all.”

Smiling, she shook her head. “Rodeos and opera—I don’t think you can quite lump them together even in that way.”

“I’ll take you to a rodeo sometime soon. There’ll be one in New Mexico.”

They talked, drifting from one subject to another until dinner was served, delicious blackened grouper.

Over dinner, conversation became more impersonal and she felt better about him. The staff was discreet, keeping out of sight most of the time.

After dinner the dishes were cleared away while they moved to another area on the veranda. Marek spoke briefly to the staff and then joined her again. It was almost dark, and various veranda lights and torches on the beach had come on or been lighted.

“I suppose Jess runs the ranch when you’re not there.”

“Jess runs the ranch when I’m there and when I’m not there.”

“He’s sort of closed off from the world. Or maybe just quiet. Is he married?”

“No. Jess is closed off from the world to a degree. Jess had a wife and son. They were killed in a car wreck years ago. If anyone understands what I’ve felt, it’s Jess. He never married again. He has a solitary life, but he gets along. We understand each other, and I can count on him.”

“That’s dreadful. Both of you with such similar losses.”

“He’s never had to say anything. He’s just been there for me, which helped. After the plane crash sometimes he’d come up to the house in the evening and bring cold beer. We’d sit, drink and maybe not say three words all evening, just sit on the porch and sip beer. It helped just to know he understood and he was there.”

“I’m glad you had somebody.”

“Jess is all for this marriage and bringing Noah into our lives.”

“You just never know what problems other people carry around,” she said quietly. “I’ve been fortunate.”

“When we get back, we’ll get your things, Ashley’s and Noah’s moved to the ranch.”

“Noah growing up a little cowboy—that seems impossible.”

“It’s possible. I’ll get a horse for you. You can ride with me early in the mornings if you’d like. This time of year it’s beautiful out.”

She laughed. “I don’t know one thing about horses, but I would love to learn. That sounds fun, Marek.”

“Life’s a blast for you, isn’t it?”

“A lot of the time. It’s a lot of work and sometimes scary, too.”

Finally, she said she would turn in.

“Before you do, let’s walk on the beach. The moon is out and I think you’ll like a stroll. You can’t do that at home.”

With his arm draped casually across her shoulders, they walked along the sandy beach, where flickering torches cast yellow-and-orange reflections over the dark waters and highlighted whitecaps. When he walked with her to her bedroom door, she turned to face him.

“This is a weird wedding night, Camille. You’re getting shortchanged here.”

“No, I’m not. I’m getting a lot from this marriage. I expect a lot.”

One dark eyebrow arched. “How’s that? Don’t expect me to fall in love. I’m coming out of my grief, I’ll admit, but I’ll never be in—” She placed her finger on his mouth.

“That wasn’t what I was talking about, but that, too. You don’t know what lies ahead. I expect you to be a father for Noah. A good father. You’ve given us a fortune. Because of this marriage, I’m wealthy and my family has options and can do things they could not have done otherwise.”

“You see the world through rose-colored glasses.”

“Maybe, but that makes for a pretty world,” she said, smiling at him. She stood on tiptoe, wrapped her arm around his neck and kissed him on the mouth. She wanted to shake him out of his insulated world. Marek’s arm circled her waist and he returned her kiss, holding her tightly while he wound his other hand in her hair. Her pulse roared in her ears and her heartbeat raced as she kissed him, pouring herself into the kiss, wanting to break through the barriers around his heart. She had started the kiss, but then Marek dominated, burning away caution, causing wild responses from her.

When he picked her up to carry her into her bedroom, she realized they were headed for a real wedding night. “Wait, Marek—” she whispered.

“You started this,” he said in a voice that was as deep as a growl. Giving her a searching look, he set her on her feet. Her heart pounded, part desire, part exhilaration that she had shaken him out of his remote numbness as she had intended.

“We stop now,” she said. “Weird wedding night or not, it’s been more than either of us expected. Far more than I ever expected. I still don’t want to rush complications.”

“I think complications are barreling down on us,” he said. “You have to take some of the blame. You’re filled with a zest for life that’s irresistible. I believe you started this tonight.”

“I don’t have any regrets,” she whispered and saw a flicker in the depths of his dark eyes. “I’ve had a wonderful wedding day. It’s not what either of us would have if we could have whatever we want, but under the circumstances, for a paper marriage, it was a great day.”

“I agree. I wondered how I would get through it. Thanks. You got me through this one and it’s been good.”

“Will you be all right tonight?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Want to come hold my hand and make sure I am?” he replied, a faint smile hovering on his mouth.

She laughed. “Good try, but not this night. You’ll be okay. Let’s have a sunrise swim.”

“Sure. Want me to come get you out of bed?”

“Another good try, but, no, I don’t. I’ll be up early. And I’m sure, as a rancher, you get up early every morning. If not, I’ll go on without you.”

“And me miss the sight of you in your swimsuit? I think not. I’ll be there.”

She laughed. “Good night, Marek.” He caught her up, holding her tightly to kiss her hard. Just as abruptly he released her.

“Some night, Camille, you won’t tell me to wait.”

“Just make sure that’s what you want,” she whispered as her heart raced.

“I can give you the same warning.” He left, closing the door behind him.

Staring at the door, she gave herself over to memories of the whole evening. Whether it would complicate her life horribly or not, she was going to fall in love with her husband. Or maybe she was already in love with him.

When she was ready for bed, she stepped onto the veranda outside her bedroom. Moonlight spilled across the water in one long, white beam. She was married to a Rangel now. Mrs. Marek Rangel. This was never how she had dreamed she would have her wedding night. It could have been different tonight. Was she ready for that big a change?

“It will work out,” she told herself, thinking how Marek seemed now compared to the day she had walked into his office. She thought about their kisses, escalating in intensity. She combed her hair back from her face with her fingers, thinking about being in Marek’s arms today, dancing with him, the moment he had swept her up to carry her over the threshold. Just when she thought she had him figured out, he surprised her. She finally fell asleep in a chair, dozing and then waking to crawl into bed to sleep.

The next two days they spent swimming, eating, dancing and getting to know each other better, yet all the while, she felt sparks and tension growing between them.

The last night they went into town to a show and afterward they went to a popular bar. The steamy bar was raucous, the dancing frenzied, strobe lights flashing. Marek unbuttoned his short-sleeve island shirt, letting go after the past month filled with tension and a strained wedding filled with painful memories.

Relaxed, he enjoyed dancing. Afterward, when the floor was cleared for limbo, they watched as a few patrons tried it. The crowd got into it, cheering on the dancers.

Marek had his arm around her shoulder, but he stepped out to participate. The music was deafening, and he concentrated on trying to get down. After the first easy try, they lowered the bar. Again, he made it to cheers and clapping. He grinned at Camille. They lowered the bar and he tried once again to louder cheers. He laughed as Camille gave him a thumbs-up.

Feeling sweat pour off himself, he motioned for another try, getting lower than any of the amateurs so far until he felt his balance going. He put down his hand to wiggle under the bar and bounced to his feet to cheers and applause as he bowed.

Laughing, he caught her around her waist.

“I didn’t know you were so talented,” she yelled over the noise of the crowd. He led her back to the bar and the bartender gave him a cold beer and congratulations.

“Hey, man, beer’s on the house,” he said, grinning.

As Marek took a long drink, Camille laughed. They walked back into the crowd to watch the dancers until the professional dancer returned to outdo everyone else.

When they stopped the limbo, a samba began, and Marek took her hand to dance. He already knew she was an excellent dancer. As she followed his moves across the dance floor, he realized they were in perfect step. Her red dress with a halter top had a skirt that was fitted over her hips and then flared fully below. With every turn her legs were revealed, drawing an audience quickly.

With his gaze locked with hers they danced in unison as if they had practiced for weeks. The fast, sexy dance sent his heart racing. Every move felt even more exhilarating. He watched her twist her hips while dancing in perfect step with him. She was taunting and sexy, and he wanted her. Desire burned hotly, more than the scorching air in the bar. He wished he had her alone, far away from a crowd.

The growing audience began to circle and watch, cheering them on, whistling and clapping until the end when they got resounding cheers. Exhilarated, filled with energy, he laughed as he pulled her to him. “Let’s give them a thrill,” he said and kissed her, dipping with her so she had to put her arms around his neck. Dimly, above his roaring pulse, he heard the crowd go wild with yells.

Wanting to take her home and to bed now, he swung her up to audience applause. “Take your bow. You’re a great dancer. How you did that and stayed as cool as you look, I don’t know.” They bowed and walked away while the band took a break. Marek wiped his sweat-covered forehead and pushed back tangled locks of his black hair.

*

Camille caught her long hair to braid it swiftly. “I need a clip or rubber band for this hair.”

He took her hand and they crossed to the bar to get one. As soon as she fastened her braid, he held her arm and they went outside, where welcome cool air hit her. He spun her around. Her eyes widened and she placed her hands against his chest.

While Camille’s heart pounded, he pulled her to him to kiss her possessively. She wrapped her arms around him to kiss him in return. His body was hot, damp from the dance, flat planes and hard muscles. His hand ran down her back and over her bottom and she was thankful they were at the bar and not at the villa with privacy and bedrooms. She still didn’t want to get into an intimate relationship and complicate their lives and do something that he would take as lightly as he had the dancing tonight.

His kisses stirred passion to a storm that buffeted her. In spite of her caution, she wanted him. She ran her hands over his back, wanting to tug his shirt out of his chinos but resisting.

His tongue went deep, a demanding kiss that shook her. He was not steeped in grief tonight. Far from it. He had been losing the past swiftly, and tonight his body was hot with desire.

Relishing their kisses, she didn’t want to stop, either, aware their location would eventually end their lovemaking before it went too far. Momentarily letting go of her caution, she kissed him eagerly, sliding her hands over his chest to feel the solid muscles. He was aroused, sexy. Knowing she shouldn’t, she couldn’t keep from wanting him. In spite of knowing he was a threat to her career, she wanted him, but she wanted more of him than just his body. Even when she shouldn’t, she wanted his heart.

His hand went to her throat and then slipped lower, over her breast, and she gasped with pleasure as he caressed her. She closed her hand around his wrist.

“Marek, we’re in a very public place.”

“There’s no one paying any attention to us. They’re all inside. You’re a fabulous dancer,” he replied in a muffled voice as he continued to shower kisses on her throat, moving lower. He shoved the neck of her dress lower to kiss her. She wriggled and stepped back, straightening her dress.

“We can go back and dance or go to the villa, but we need to stop the lovemaking out here in public.”

He gave her a long steady look before he finally nodded. “Which is it? What do you want to do? Dance more or go back?”

“Go back and walk on the beach. It’s our last night.”

“The last night of our honeymoon. We could make it real, Camille,” he said in a husky voice.

“You mean we could make love. It would not be real love between us, and you know that. You said you didn’t mind having a relationship without sex for now.”

“I didn’t think I wanted one. You’re making me want things I didn’t think I would. This past week—maybe even before—for the first time since I lost Jillian and Kern, I feel like life is good again.”

“Frankly, I’m glad. I want some kind of caring between us if we have a physical relationship. You agreed to that.”

“So I did,” he said. “We’ll have some kind of caring, Camille. I already do care,” he said, his dark eyes holding her spellbound. He leaned close to kiss her, his mouth firm, demanding on hers until three men burst outside, noisily spilling past them.

Marek leaned away and smiled at her. “All right, we’ll go back to the villa. I’ll get the car,” he said, sending a text message.

“It was fun to dance. We did well together,” she said when he finished sending the text.

“Amazingly well. I’ll bet people who watched thought we had danced a samba together dozens of times. Frankly, it surprised me.”

“I had years of dance lessons when I was growing up. Someday we’ll come back maybe and try and see if it happens again.”

“That sounds good—someday we’ll come back. This is a good marriage.”

“I think you’ve had too much to drink tonight.”

He shook his head. “Hardly. I had two beers all evening long. I didn’t finish the last one, so it wasn’t even two. For a paper marriage it’s a good marriage.”

“There. That description is far more accurate. Let’s go.”

As soon as they reached the villa, they went outside for the walk along the beach that she had wanted. Kicking off her shoes, she listened to waves lap against the shore.

“I’ve finally cooled off. The bar was hot, dancing even hotter,” she said.

“Kissing you was the hottest of all,” he added, and she smiled.

“I could have added that but didn’t. This has been wonderful. Thank you for finding this place and the villa—it has fulfilled a dream I’ve had for a long time.”

“I’m glad you’re pleased. I’m glad you’re here for the first time with me. Tomorrow we’ll return home, and next week we’ll go to the ranch and plan the changes you want to make.”

“I need to get back the following week. It’s getting closer to performance time, and I have to practice. My time will be more deeply involved with my profession.”

“I understand. I may stay at the ranch some of the time and keep out of your way.”

She nodded, wondering how well they would work out their time and if he would accept the demands of her career. She suspected he was unaccustomed to having to give up anything he wanted in daily living.

“Stephanie is not interested in ranch life. Right now, she’s delighted to be going back to Saint Louis. I think she’ll open an office and work from there. She’ll do my accounting, but I’m going to hire another manager because she wants to go home and settle down. Remember, Ashley is going to Saint Louis for the week when we return to Dallas. They’ll both be gone and I’ll take care of Noah.”

“That’s when you’ll need to let me or Ginny help take care of him.”

“At this point, I feel better about Ginny. She’s accustomed to caring for a baby. You’re not.”

He smiled, and her heartbeat quickened. Her response to him was increasing instead of diminishing with familiarity.

After they walked along the beach, they sat on the veranda, sipping iced tea and talking until she realized the time. “Do you know how early we’ve planned to leave? It’s three in the morning.”

“With a phone call I can change tomorrow’s flight.”

Thinking about the week ahead, she shook her head. “We should get back. We have plans made and everyone will be expecting us.”

They walked to her bedroom door, where they stopped as they had each night. “It’s been good, Marek,” she said, aware of his disheveled state, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing his muscled chest, his tangled hair falling partially on his forehead. His shirttail was out of his chinos. He looked sexy, ready for love.

“Thanks to you, this trip has been a good one. Tonight was a blast and a relief to just let go in every way.”

She smiled at him. “I’m glad. Good night,” she said, reaching up to put her hand on his shoulder and kiss him lightly. The kiss changed into a passionate one that had them both gasping for breath when they stopped.

“Sometime, Camille, you won’t say no.”

“I imagine you’re right,” she whispered. She stepped into her room and closed the door, her heart pounding. “I didn’t want to tonight,” she whispered, touching her tingling lips lightly with the back of her fingers. She looked at the ring on her hand, watching the diamond sparkle. “Mrs. Marek Rangel. I want it all. I want your love, and then this ring will hold meaning,” she whispered, wondering whether he could ever let go and love again. She mulled over his remark earlier—I already do care. How much did he care? Tiny changes had happened, and maybe they were making a difference in him. Would he ever fall in love or forever be holding a memory in his heart?

And what if he did fall in love? Would she wreck her life and the career she had guarded and given all her effort to for her lifetime? She couldn’t imagine living in isolation on his ranch. Voice and language lessons would be an impossibility. If he ever fell in love, was she willing to sacrifice what she had achieved?