“Jealousy?” she retorted, wanting to deny what was so patently obvious.
“Admit it, Tess, you were jealous!”
“I hate jealous women.”
“And I love them.” He laughed again and dragged her from the relative privacy of the trees. “How about some lunch?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“I’m hungry.”
Cajoled out of her worries by his good mood, she laughed. “I am, too.”
“Good. If things haven’t changed too much, I remember a great little café with a view of Mount Helena.”
The café was long gone. But they did find a small Italian restaurant not far from the courthouse. As the waiter brought pasta and Chablis, Denver sat across from Tessa at the table and clinked his glass to hers. “Here’s to ... a long and successful business arrangement.”
Tessa almost choked. “Business arrangement?”
“Umm. You said you wanted to buy the ranch.”
“I do.”
“Well, now that Colton’s been found and you’ve sold your horses—you have sold them, haven’t you?”
Swallowing with difficulty, she set down her glass. “Nate’s made a generous offer,” she admitted.
“Then all that’s left is to draw up a contract, sign it and take it to the bank. Right?”
Suddenly feeling depressed, she nodded. “If Colton agrees.”
“And if he doesn’t—you still want my half ?”
“Yes,” she said firmly, though inside she was dying a little. All her dreams of owning the ranch, of being mistress of the McLean spread, seemed to shrivel in front of her very eyes. Without Denver, the ranch meant so little. She shoved her fettuccine around on her plate and tried to eat. Her appetite had disappeared.
“But first you have to pay off your bet,” he reminded her.
“And then what happens? When everything’s signed, sealed and delivered, will you just head back to California?”
“What else?” He eyed her quietly, sipping his wine, his jaw thrust forward.
“Nothing, I guess,” she whispered, then gave herself a quick mental kick. She wasn’t about to let go without a whimper. “You said last night was something special,” she said, meeting his gaze again.
“It was.”
“But it doesn’t have to go on forever, is that it?”
“I didn’t say—”
Her anger sparked. “Were we just ‘experimenting’ again, Denver? Seeing if it was as good as when we were kids?”
“What’re you getting at?”
“Last night was more than a one-night stand. At least for me. I didn’t wait seven years just to be used and tossed aside again!”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I never intended to use you.”
“But it happened.” She felt her cheeks flame, but she couldn’t control the rage and hurt deep inside. “I don’t want another affair, Denver,” she snapped. “I had enough trouble living through the last one.”
“You were only nineteen.”
“And now I’m twenty-six, but my values haven’t changed,” she said angrily, tossing her napkin into her plate and stalking out of the restaurant. Outside the sun was blinding. She marched down the street, but Denver caught up with her on the second block, grabbed her hand and whirled her around.
“What do you want from me, Tessa? A marriage proposal?” he fumed.
Yes! “I’m not trying to manipulate you, Denver.”
“Aren’t you?”
She wanted to slap him and tell him to take his hands off her. But her dignity wouldn’t allow this fight to be aired to all the good citizens of Helena. “Leave it alone, Denver,” she said between clenched teeth, wrenching her arm away from him.
“That’s the problem, Tess,” he said, sighing. “I can’t leave it alone. Just like I can’t leave you alone. But, by the same token, I can’t lie to you or promise you things that just won’t happen.”
“Look, you don’t have to go on about this. I didn’t ask you to marry me, did I?” She started up the street again and he kept up with her, stride for stride, until they reached the car. At that point she had to stop. The car was locked and there was nowhere she could run—no place she could hide.
“We need to talk,” he growled, shoving his scarred hand through his ebony hair.
“Maybe we should’ve done more talking last night!”
Tense as a panther ready to strike, he paced from one end of the car to the other. “I just don’t know what you want from me—”
“Denver?” Ross Anderson’s voice boomed over the sound of traffic.
Denver’s head jerked up. He watched in mild surprise as the wiry young attorney, briefcase tucked under one arm, dashed down the courthouse steps. “We’ll discuss this later,” he said from the corner of his mouth.
“Right.” Tessa was disbelieving.
“Later!” Then, forcing a tight smile onto his face, he observed Ross zigzagging through the traffic.