Terms Of A Texas Marriage. Lauren CananЧитать онлайн книгу.
eyes narrowed, pinning her to the spot. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I said no.”
“Ms. Hardin, do you really expect me to marry a woman I don’t know and risk losing half of everything I have?”
“I’d say, after your earlier statement, you expect me to give up more than that. No prenup, Mr. Morreston. I want no part of anything you own, other than my ranch. You can trust me on that—” Shea eyed him coolly “—or you can book your flight home.”
She could see the muscles in his jaw working overtime as he apparently strove to keep his temper from exploding.
“My personal holdings have nothing to do with this land issue. If, as you say, you want nothing but the land, then signing a prenup should not be asking too much.”
“Neither is wanting to keep my home,” she countered. “Nothing in the contract said anything about a prenuptial agreement. I refuse to sign one. If you refuse to marry me because of that, then I guess the land is mine. Your call.”
Her heart beat so solidly against the wall of her chest she felt sure he could hear it from three feet away. She hoped she looked calmer on the outside than she felt on the inside.
Silence dominated the room. A barely perceivable change in his stance, from tense to an almost exaggerated casualness, conveyed the control he maintained on his emotions. His tawny eyes drifted over her as if trying to discover how much determination lay underneath. The burning strength of his gaze wandered insolently from her face to her breasts, down to her belly, to her hands—held tightly clenched at her sides—then down the legs of her jeans all the way to her feet. Shea could feel the blush spread across her face as he rudely inspected and silently weighed the feminine merchandise standing in front of him.
“All right, Ms. Hardin,” he said finally, his tone suddenly menacing. “We’ll play hardball if that’s what you want. You just upped the stakes and I’d be a fool not to call your bluff. Be ready tonight, honey. Be ready for me.”
He stepped back and opened the door. Shea shakily, but resolutely, walked through it. While temporarily disconcerted by his unexpected and candid proclamation, she knew the marriage would never be consummated. He was trying to intimidate her. That’s all it was. He would do well to remember that two could play this game.
She had no intention of letting herself become physically ensnared and used by an egotistical maniac. She may have been forced into making a pact with the devil, but he would quickly find she was anything but a sacrificial lamb. Alec Morreston was city bred and raised. He had no concept of the sometimes harsh realities of ranch life, and she’d bet he wouldn’t last a month.
In fact, she had just bet the ranch on it.
* * *
“Alec...” The heavy concern in Thomas’s voice was clearly evident through the telephone line. Alec could picture him gripping the receiver so tightly his knuckles were turning white. He was almost sorry he couldn’t be there in person to deliver the news of the pending wedding. “Are you certain you know what you’re doing?”
Because their client-attorney relationship had grown into a solid friendship over the years, Alec wasn’t insulted when Thomas questioned his sanity. Hell, in the past five hours, he’d begun to question it himself.
“I mean, what do we really know about this woman?”
“I think she’s okay, Thomas.”
“But what if she’s not? What if this is all a setup? Do you have to marry her, for God’s sake?” His tone was incredulous. “Maybe if you offered her more money?”
“She wouldn’t take two million.”
“She—” Alec heard Thomas Long swallow hard on that one. “My God! How much more does she want?”
“She says she doesn’t want money. She wants the land. I believe, in her mind, she’s telling the truth. She honestly thinks she can pull this off and make me back down. Unfortunately for her, I’ve committed to building this entertainment complex. The investors are already on board. I’m down several million and we haven’t yet poured the first foundation. There is no turning back at this point.”
“How about we try to find other land alternatives. I could put out some feelers...”
“A friend who specializes in real estate spent almost a year doing just that. I originally wanted to build in the East. He checked land possibilities within a hundred-mile radius of every major city near a natural waterway from New York to Florida. We encountered zoning restrictions, municipal politics, arbitrary city codes, small town gluttony. He found a two-thousand-acre tract just outside Cincinnati, but the deed was in probate. There was a five-thousand-acre tract in Virginia, but it was so far removed from civilization I didn’t want to take the chance it might be too far.
“This location is perfect. A little farther west than I initially wanted, but it’s actually working out even better than the original plan. It’s centrally located in the US, only fifty miles from the Dallas-Ft. Worth International Airport and it borders the Red River.”
Alec had already purchased land directly across the state line in Oklahoma and had most of the permits for that side of the river. “I’ve spent weeks restructuring blueprints to meet local building codes, obtaining land surveys for two states and finally have received a clearance from the EPA over some near-extinct bird they thought nested nearby. I refuse to spend any more time or money trying to find equivalent land just so Ms. Hardin can continue to raise her cows. Give me a few days, a couple of weeks at best, and I’ll have her out of here.”
“Okay.” There was a moment of silence while Thomas, no doubt, regrouped. “What about a prenup? You’re potentially handing this woman a key to a very large door. Your bank accounts alone...” Thomas paused. “I’ll have a basic agreement drawn up and sent to you in—”
“No thanks, Thomas.”
“No? Alec—”
“We’ve already had this discussion. She refused.”
Another stunned silence. “Then don’t marry her. Let her have the damn land. Even considering how much you’ve sunk into the project, it isn’t worth a fraction of your other holdings. Alec—”
“Thomas, look, I appreciate your concern. But I honestly feel if it should come down to a divorce petition for any of my current assets, the bizarre reason for the marriage—my being forced to take this route in order to regain the use of my own land—would supersede any claim.”
“But we can’t know that for sure.”
How could he explain to Thomas his gut instinct said this would not be a problem? There was something about Shea Hardin, some glimmer of truth deep in those blue eyes. Nothing he’d seen gave him any reason to suspect she wanted any more than her ranch.
“I don’t intend to remain married for one millisecond longer than absolutely necessary. In less time than it would take to battle this out, I intend to have her bags packed and be helping little Miss Tradition out the door. Then a simple annulment, give her something for her trouble, and it’s done.”
He’d been challenged by opponents a lot tougher than Shea Hardin and had come out on top. He grimaced at his own expression. Hell, in truth, on top of her was exactly where he wanted to be. He sensed the blood congregate in his loins at the mental picture and cursed his weakness. He had to keep his focus on the reason he was here and stop letting his imagination run wild.
Alec intentionally changed the subject. “I need you to call Valturego. See if he’s ready to sign the contract for the construction of his casino. I’ll contact him when I get back in the office.”
“I’ll call as soon as we’re finished,” Thomas promised. “But, Alec, back to the prenup thing—”
“Did Rolston sign the revised contract?”