Free Two to Wrangle by Victoria Vane Page B

?” Monica repeated, dumbfounded.
    â€œDelaney wants a kid and thinks she can persuade me to be the daddy. Course, she’s delusional on that account.”
    â€œBut why you ?”
    â€œShe doesn’t want to go to a sperm bank.”
    â€œShe’s young. Why not just remarry?”
    He shrugged. “Seems I ruined all her notions of matrimony.”
    Monica digested his words. Delaney’s actions might seem desperate but made a certain amount of sense. She’d been burned before, but Ty was at least the devil she knew. It was also clear now why she was concerned about Monica’s involvement with Ty.
    â€œYou said she tried to persuade you. How, Ty?”
    â€œMoney . . . lotsa money.”
    â€œShe tried to bribe you into sleeping with her?” It was Monica’s turn to stiffen in the saddle. “How much, Ty? What are you worth as a breeding stud?”
    â€œTwelve million, interest free.”
    â€œThat must be flattering,” Monica replied dryly.
    He smirked. “If you don’t think I’m worth it, maybe I need to refresh your memory.”
    â€œDon’t even go there, cowboy.” She let out a derisive laugh. “You had your chance just last night. Don’t think for a minute you’ll get another one. What did you do after you sent me away? Jack off in the shower?”
    â€œSure did,” he said, ignoring the taunt. “What about you? Were you thinking about me pounding my big cock into you while you writhed in your cold and lonely bed?”
    It was far too close to the truth. She squirmed. The horse shifted, making her all too aware of the moist heat invading her core. “Just stop it,” she hissed with a slap that bounced off his broad back.
    He turned around with a chuckle. “Best hang on tight.” With that warning, she tightened her hold as he spurred the horse into a smooth, rocking lope.
    Â 
    Loping along the riverbank with Monica holding his hips in a vicelike grip, Ty swore under his breath. Nothing was worse than riding with a hard-on, but stupid shit that he was, he’d done it to himself. Self-restraint and patience were two of his talents, but Monica was a supreme test of both. Last night had been an exercise in self-control that he had no wish to repeat. It was mighty hard to stay focused when her eyes had screamed “Fuck me hard, Ty.” He consoled himself that the torture would end the minute they dismounted. Mumbling a few more curses, he reminded himself once more about that long game.
    They didn’t speak again until he pulled up at the stand of willows that Tom’s granddaddy had planted two generations back to mark the most prime fishing spot on the Little River. They stood for silent minutes gazing out at the swiftly rolling tributary that stretched, wound, and undulated through Tom’s land.
    â€œSo this was his favorite place?” She grimaced. “Not at all what I expected. It’s so . . . murky.”
    â€œAll the better for gar fishing,” Ty replied with a grin. “But there’s also a great view. It’s up there.” He pointed to a grass-covered slope. “C’mon, lean into me and hang on tight.”
    Ty urged the horse up the steep incline. Reaching the top, he gestured to the expanse of gently rolling landscape unfurling for miles like a massive carpet of green and gold. “Take a good look now, Monica. It’s all Tom’s. As far as the eye can see.”
    â€œNo it isn’t, Ty,” Monica replied softly. “It’s yours.”
    Ty’s heart swelled with a sudden surge of emotion that struck him dumb. Pride was part of it, for certain, but then his gut twisted with an incomprehensible feeling of loneliness. Was this how Tom had felt? Like the king of a vast and lonely kingdom? Maybe that’s what had continually called him back to Vegas? And now all of it was his. He still hadn’t quite come to grips with