Thunderbolt over Texas

He bought a few seconds by taking a swallow of his coffee. “What kind of a plan?”

“He said he’d explained it all to you last night.”

Of course he did. “What did he tell you?”

“That my timing couldn’t have been better. That you and I should get married and let Katie think we’re expanding the Erickson dynasty.”

It was a conspiracy. It was a bloody conspiracy. “You actually think Katie will fall for it?”

Sydney gazed knowingly at him from under her thick lashes. “You don’t think she’ll believe you’re interested in me?”

“Fishing?”

Her smile turned self-conscious and she gave a shrug. “Maybe.”

“Or cornering me, perhaps?”

Her smiled widened then. “Maybe that, too.”

Cole sighed. “I meant no disrespect to you.” He simply didn’t want to marry a stranger. Was that such a horrible thing?

Sydney was assessing him with those gorgeous green eyes. “Okay, I’ll go first. You’re a good-looking, sexy guy. It’s not a big stretch for Katie to think I might go for you.”

Cole’s chest tightened on the word sexy.

It was Sydney who wrote the book on sexy. The way she moved with such fluid grace. The way her husky voice caught on that trembling laugh.

He could still feel her touch on his arm, on his thigh. Okay, so the thigh one wasn’t the most pleasant memory in the world. But it was still sexy. Which was pretty pathetic.

“Cole?”

“Hmm?”

“I think it’s a good plan.”

“Of course you do.”

“If we’re lucky, it’ll help Katie. It’ll definitely help the Laurent—a respected public institution, I might point out. So where’s the harm?”

“Don’t you have places to go? Things to dig up?”

“That’s archeologists. There’s nothing higher on my priority list than the Thunderbolt.”

Cole pushed aside his pancakes.

She wanted to take this seriously? Okay. They’d take it seriously for a minute. “What about your family? You’d lie to them about getting married?”

She waved a hand. “Not an issue.”

“You’re not close to them?” That surprised Cole. She was such a smart, perky, good-natured woman. What kind of a family wouldn’t want to stay close to her?

A shadow crossed her face. “My foster parents died five years ago.”

Cole’s stomach clenched in sympathy. He knew what it was like to lose parents. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay.”

“What about brothers and sisters?”

“None.”

His sympathy rush escalated. Now he had a sexy, vulnerable little orphan Annie challenging him to do right by his sister-in-law.

He stood up and took his dishes to the sink.

She followed. “Cole?”

“Yeah.” And there was that elusive scent again. He didn’t dare turn around.

“Why are you hesitating? We can draft whatever legal documents you want to protect the Thunderbolt.”

“It’s not that.” Well, actually, it was that. At least, that was part of it. He didn’t know Sydney, and he’d be a fool to trust her.

But there was more to it than the legal risks. It was a marriage, a marriage to a woman he didn’t love, didn’t even know. Maybe he was an old-fashioned guy, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“The Laurent is a very reputable institution,” she said.

“I believe you.”

“Is it lying to Katie, then?”

Cole turned. And there was Sydney, mere inches away. A slight movement of his hand and he’d be touching her. A tip of his head and he’d be kissing her.

“It’s lying to Katie,” he said. “Lying to Grandma. Lying to God.”

“We could have a civil service.”

“Not a possibility.”

She tipped her head, looking perplexed.

He moved in, just a little, pressing his point, hoping he could make her understand and give up on this ridiculous idea. “We’re talking about my family here, and they know me very well. They know that if I loved someone—if I truly loved someone—I sure wouldn’t say so in a civic office in front of a clerk and two impartial witnesses.”

Sydney bit down on her bottom lip. Her cat-green eyes narrowed in concentration, but she didn’t respond.

“You ready to walk down the aisle in a white dress, promise to love me and honor me, then kiss me and throw a bouquet?”

As he outlined the scenario, an unexpected vision bloomed in Cole’s mind. Sydney in a white dress. Sydney in a veil. Sydney with a spray of delicate roses trembling in her hands. He could feel her skin, smell her perfume, taste the sweetness of her lush lips.

“We’d both know it was fake,” she said.

Cole startled out of the vision and gave a short nod. “Yeah. Right. We’d both know it was fake.”

“And that’s what would matter. That’s what would count.” She squared her shoulders. “Knowing the benefits, I could do it.”

Cole clenched his jaw. He’d hand the Thunderbolt over to her tomorrow if he could. But Olav the Third was specific, and Cole’s grandfather’s will was ironclad.

He examined the idea from every angle. From his, from Kyle’s, from Katie’s, from Sydney’s.

She could do it? Of course she could. It wasn’t as if it would be physically painful. And nobody would die. And nobody would ever be the wiser. Marriages failed all the time. After a decent interval, he and Sydney could simply divorce.

“Then so can I,” said Cole, just as he’d known he would from the second his brother conceived the plan. His family needed him, and that was an unconditional trump card.

A brilliant smile lit Sydney’s face. “Where do we start?”

“First thing we have to do,” said Cole two hours later while Sydney watched him saddle a horse outside his cabin, “is convince Katie I’m falling for you.”

Sydney eyed up the big animal from the safety of his porch, having second and third and fourth thoughts. Oh, not about marrying Cole; she was completely convinced that was the right thing to do. She was having second thoughts about getting on the back of an animal that could crush her with one stomp of its foot.

“Tell me again why that has to involve horses?” she said.

“Don’t you watch the movies?” Cole pressed his knee into the horse’s ribs and pulled snug on a leather strap. His strong, calloused hands worked with practiced ease, and she had a sudden vision of them against her pale skin.

He released a stirrup and secured a buckle. “People who are falling in love gallop their horses along the beach all the time.”

Maybe so. But there was no way in this world Sydney was galloping any horse anywhere anytime soon. “Couldn’t we just go to a movie?”

He rocked the saddle back and forth on the horse’s back. “Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s a long way to Wichita Falls.”

“What about a picnic? You, me, some ants, maybe a bottle of wine?”

“We want Katie to see us.”

Good point. Cole and Sydney alone in a meadow didn’t do anybody any good. Well, except maybe for the cowboy Viking fantasy she was working on. The one where Cole dragged her into his strong arms and kissed her until she swooned.

“Maybe you could double me on your horse?” That ought to give Katie something to think about.

“I wouldn’t do that to my horse.”

“Hey!”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so sensitive. I’m the heavy one, not you.”

She scrambled for an alternative, any alternative. “I know. We could mess up our clothes and our hair and let Katie think we had sex.”

He walked the smaller of the two horses over to the porch. “On our first date?”

“What? Are you a prude?”

“No, I’m not a prude. Come over here and get on.”

She shook her head, moving backward until she came up against the cabin wall. “Then why not on a first date?”

“Because I’m supposed to be falling in love with you. Come on. Clarabelle won’t hurt you.”

He couldn’t have sex if he was falling in love? “Don’t tell me this is a good girl, bad girl thing.”

His eyes darkened to cobalt and a shiver ran up her spine. “This is a horseback-riding thing.”

“Because, if you’ve got some hang-up—”

“What? You’ll refuse to marry me.” His look turned challenging.

But then, Sydney was up for a challenge. There was nothing wrong with sex on a first date. Not that she’d ever done it. But she could have if she’d wanted to.

“I won’t refuse to marry you,” she answered, striking a pose. “But you’ll have to tell me which kind of girl you want me to be.”

His nostrils flared.

There. Now he was the one off balance. She took a few bold steps forward and her breasts came level with his eyes.

She made a show of reaching past his shoulder to pat the horse. It twitched at the contact—a warm muscle jumping against her fingers. She let her voice go husky. “Which kind do you want me to be, Cole?”

“Sydney.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t flirt with me.”

She blinked in mock innocence. “I’m simply asking a question.”

“No, you’re not.” He swung up on the porch, positioning himself behind her, speaking very close to her right ear, making her skin vibrate with his gravelly, sensual voice. “What you’re asking for is trouble.”

He was right. Tall, strong, sexy and right. And if that was trouble, bring it on.

But his voice went back to normal. “Hold on to the saddle horn,” he instructed, placing his hand on the back of hers and moving it into place. “You’re going to put your left foot in the stirrup and swing your leg over the saddle.”

Sydney tensed. Flirting, she knew. Horses were something else entirely. “Listen, I’ve never, ever—”

“It’s easy.”

She fought his grip. “Cole.”

“She’s calm and gentle, and she’ll follow right along behind me.”

“I’m scared,” Sydney admitted. What if the horse bucked? What if she fell? What if she was trampled?

“Tighten your grip.” He pressed her hand against the hard leather of the horn. His palm was warm and sure, and for a moment she relaxed.

“I’m right behind you.” He nudged her forward, urging her closer to the horse. “Foot in the stirrup now.”

She took a deep breath and did it.

“Up and over.” He placed a broad palm under her butt and all but lifted her into position.

It was a quick thrill, but a thrill all the same. And now she was straddling a shifting horse, staring down at a rough-and-ready cowboy with a knowing glint in his blue eyes.

She could feel the heat coming off her cheeks and tiny quivers jumping in her thigh muscles.

“For the record,” he said, back to husky and sexy.

“Yeah?”

“You should feel free to be good and bad.”

It was a long mile from Cole’s cabin near the creek up to Katie and Kyle’s house on the hill. They took it at a slow walk, and Clarabelle followed the black horse along a faint trail through a wildflower meadow. Sydney’s thigh muscles grew tight, but otherwise the ride went without incident.

“Katie said you used to live up here,” she called to Cole as the two-story house rose up in front of them.

He twisted in the saddle to look back. “I moved out when Kyle got married.”

“Was it just the two of you?”

He nodded, then did something to drop his horse back so they were side by side. “My parents died when I was twenty. Kyle was eighteen.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was tough. But at least we had Grandma.”

“The matchmaking grandmother.”

Cole smiled. Then his eyes dimmed. “She’s going to be really excited about you.”

Sydney felt a twinge of guilt. Grandmas didn’t seem like the kind of people you should lie to.

“Will it be okay?” she asked.

He seemed to ponder the question. “Well, she’ll definitely book the church. Probably start baking the cake.”

He brought the horses to a halt but didn’t dismount. “You know, if we want to pull this off, we’d better make sure we have our stories straight.”

Trying to lighten the mood, she tossed her hair over her shoulders. “How about you fell head over heels and I’m marrying you out of pity?”

“That’ll work.”

“Cole, I was only—”

“It will work.”

Katie appeared at the back door, giving an exuberant wave. “Sydney. You’re still here?”

Sydney smiled at Katie. “Cole offered to teach me how to ride,” she called back, deciding it was better to stick to the truth as far as they could.

Katie skipped toward them. “That’s fantastic.”

Sydney shifted in her saddle. “It’s pretty hard on the butt. I don’t know how you guys do it.”

“Callouses,” said Cole as he dismounted. Then he grinned at her. “You’ll be developing some soon.”

Was he flirting?

He looked as though he was flirting.

And she’d sure felt a shiver at the reference to her butt.

He walked a few paces and tied his horse. Then he came back for her. “You want some help down?”

“Sure,” she said. It wasn’t as if she had a hope of getting off by herself. Plus, her skin was already tingling in anticipation of his hands.

“Kick out both feet,” he instructed. “We don’t want you getting hung up.”

She kicked free of the stirrups.

Katie grabbed the bridle and held the horse steady.

“Lean forward and bring the other leg over his back,” said Cole.

She did.

Cole wrapped his hands around her waist and slowly lowered her to the ground.

It wasn’t nearly as exciting as mounting the horse, but she got to inhale his scent, and for a second there his body was pressed full length against her back. She shivered deep down inside.

He didn’t immediately step away.

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