It's Only Temporary - The Complete Collection Read online

  Not a home.

  Maggie was right, he should sell. Buy something in Midland.

  Be practical.

  But he lived as close to where he really wanted to be as he could get without moving into the ranch house.

  The door opened and Maggie walked out.

  She wore a black halter pantsuit, her long arms bare, a large chunky bracelet on one wrist. The pants were so loose and wide they looked almost like a skirt, her high heels guaranteeing she would be taller than nearly every man there.

  Maggie stopped, running her eyes down him, then back up to stare wide-eyed into his. Her eyes swirled to blue and Cole’s breath got stuck in his chest. He wanted nothing more than for her to walk to him, wrap herself around him, and forget about tonight.

  Forget about everything but him.

  He pushed himself off the car and walked towards her.

  She blinked, tipping her chin up, and Cole nodded approvingly at her outfit. “Well, that’s–”

  Maggie turned around, showing him there was no back, the material skimming the sides of her breasts, the collar going around her neck like a choker, her hair up in a loose knot so everyone could see. The pants scooping below the dip in her back.

  He choked. “I left you too much room, I see.”

  She turned around. “I did warn you.”

  “You did. Anything going to fall out?”

  Maggie smiled. “It’s secure.”

  Cole looked at the flimsy material. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s taped.”

  “To what?”

  “My skin.”

  He started to reach for her. “Let me see.”

  She waved him off. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “Any nip slip and I will probably have a coronary.”

  She laughed.

  He said, “And any man touches your back down there, I’ll be digging his grave.”

  “You do caveman very well.”

  He grunted. “Mine, mine, mine.”

  She smiled wider. “And any man touches my back down there, I’ll be digging his grave.”

  He leaned in, breathed her in, said softly, “That’s exactly what this outfit says. Touch me. At your peril.”

  “Maybe you do speak women’s clothing after all.”

  He slid his arm around her waist, ran his hand lightly down her back, and whispered, “Are you wearing those shoes?”

  She stepped closer and it was not lost on him that he was still standing after daring to touch her back. His hand slid lower and she said huskily, “You have a fetish.”

  He fingered the collar around her neck with his other hand. “I think you’re right.”

  He reluctantly let her go, opening the driver’s door for her, and Maggie said, “No muddy truck?”

  “Not tonight.” Cole waved at her clothes. “Not for this.”

  She sat and he watched her outfit for any gaping. She said, “See anything?”

  “No.”

  “It’s pretty secure.”

  “It doesn’t look it.”

  “That’s the whole point.”

  She watched him walk around the front of the car, waited for him to get in before starting the car.

  Maggie said, “You dressed up.”

  “I know how to.”

  “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

  “You thought I’d go in jeans and boots?”

  She said, “This is nice, too.”

  He got the distinct impression she would have preferred jeans and boots.

  Cole said, “Don’t worry. I’m still wearing the same thing underneath.”

  She shook her head, reversing the car. “I don’t want to know.”

  “I’ll leave it to your imagination.” He looked down at her legs. “If you’ll return the favor.”

  She glanced at him. “If you like. But it’s entirely likely I’m wearing the same thing underneath as you.”

  Cole’s breath caught again for a long moment and then he let it slowly. “I hate how you always win that game.”

  She laughed, smiling at him, and he said, “You look beautiful.”

  She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. So beautiful it almost hurt.

  She turned her head away. “And you clean up better than I expected. I thought the mud had seeped in too deep to really ever get out.”

  Like a fist to the gut, it knocked the air out of him.

  After a long, silent minute, she put her hand on his knee and said softly, “I was teasing you. About your oil.”

  He took a deep breath, turning to face her in the small car. He nodded curtly at her and she squeezed his knee.

  She said, “I was actually looking forward to driving up in a mud-covered truck. I like watching you make everyone tiptoe around.”

  He blew out his breath slowly. He finally said, “Next time.”

  “Hit a button, did I?”

  When he grunted, she patted his knee. “Remember that whole benefit of the doubt thing? I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “I believe you. I’m just wondering why we always end up even.”

  She laughed, taking her hand off his knee. “Because we’re hard people, Cole.”

  When they got to the club, the lights were blazing. The men in their tuxedos, the women in everything from short and tight to long and flowing.

  Maggie towered over all of them, figuratively and literally.

  The men stared and the women ignored, and Cole knew she hadn’t been kidding about not having friends.

  He’d only ever had one himself and he took her hand, sliding it through his arm. She leaned into him and whispered, “I’m not going to be able to use my outfit if you keep me draped all over you.”

  “We, Maggie. Tonight it’s we.”

  She scanned the room, finally noting the interest in the two of them together, and turned toward him. “Oh.”

  He smiled into her eyes and her shoulders relaxed.

  The hostess came toward them, holding her hands out to Cole. “Cole Montgomery! We’ve never seen you at a function before.”

  He took her hands and didn’t say what he wanted to. Didn’t say he’d rather be buck naked, trying to outrun a thousand angry bulls than to be dressed up and swimming with these sharks.

  The woman glanced at Maggie. “Margaret, it’s been too long.”

  “Paula.”

  Cole dropped Paula’s hands, reaching for Maggie’s again.

  Paula gave a tinkly laugh and said, “And here we’d thought we’d got ridden of you for good. You’re like a cat, always landing on your feet.”

  “Better than landing on my back, don’t you think?”

  Paula’s nostrils flared and Maggie said, “And here comes your husband now.”

  Cole froze, sure he wasn’t hearing that right. He looked at the anger on Paula’s face, the stupid one on her husband’s.

  Cole motioned for a server, then grabbed a flute of champagne for Maggie, then himself.

  The husband cried, “Margaret, my darling! I’m so happy you could come, and you brought Cole Montgomery! Those rumors must be true then. Engaged, are you?”

  The man lifted Maggie’s free hand, bending to kiss it, and Cole bit out, “Yes.”

  Paula looked down at the hand her husband was slobbering over and said, “No ring?”

  Cole said, “You know Margaret. It has to be just right, which means we haven’t agreed on one yet.”

  Maggie pulled her hand away from the lecher moments before Cole ripped his lips off, saying, “You haven’t met Cole, have you, Simon? All the rumors about him are true, I’m afraid.” She said to Cole, “And I don’t know why we have to agree about the ring since I’ll be the one wearing it.”

  “It’s my ring on your finger.”

  Paula said, “Not to mention, your money.”

  Cole said, “For a little while longer, at least.”

  Paula’s eyes widened to saucers and she squeaked, “No pre-nup?”

  “A pr
e-nup? Why would I need one? I’m never letting her go.”

  Maggie’s eyes sparkled and her mouth puckered. Cole was fairly sure she was trying not to laugh when she said, “Cole. Really.”

  Paula squeaked something, turning from them and racing off.

  Cole watched her scurry away, drinking his champagne. He grimaced at the sweetness and muttered, “Christ. I need a beer.”

  Simon took a step closer to Maggie. “I’m sure I can find one for you, old boy. Margaret will bring it to you.”

  Maggie and Cole said at the same time, “No.”

  She turned Cole away forcibly and said over her shoulder, “Go ask someone about those rumors, Simon. Before you do something stupid.”

  She walked Cole away and said, “Simon and Paula Blackwood. Paula found herself a man with money and brought him back to Dallas about five years ago. As you can see, he’s flourished.”

  “I’ve never heard of them.”

  “He plays golf. And drinks. And chases skirts. It’s no surprise you haven’t met him. Paula is the daughter of Red Griffith.”

  At his blank look she said, “Of Griffith Ave. Old Dallas money. Before your father got ahold of it.”

  He looked over his shoulder, trying to find the woman. “Then why was she glaring daggers at you?”

  “I have a standing invitation with her husband.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.”

  Cole told his fingers not to break the champagne stem in two, it wasn’t the man’s neck. “No wonder his wife looks like she wants to skewer you with a serving fork.”

  “Oh, we’re good friends,” she said as he took a sip, and he snorted into his champagne glass, coughing. Maggie took a step closer, rubbing his back until he could breathe again.

  He turned to glare at the man, staring long enough for the stupid look on Simon Blackwood’s face to turn into a questioning one. Long enough for it to turn into fear.

  “Your standing invitation just exploded.”

  She didn’t bother to turn around. “What a shame.” She patted his hand. “Try not to take it personally, Cole. Simon has a standing invitation with anything willing to wear a skirt.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you could be next. If you’re willing to wear the skirt.”

  Cole looked again to find Simon still watching him, the fear mixed now with something else, and Maggie whispered into his ear, “You are rather impressive. Enough to make anyone wonder if they’d be willing to wear the skirt.”

  Cole glared at the man until he finally turned away, melting into the crowd.

  Cole turned back to Maggie and she said, “It’s an ugly feeling, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Aren’t you tired of these people yet, Maggie?”

  She cocked her head, looking genuinely perplexed. “Aren’t people like this everywhere? And I didn’t come to mingle with the likes of him.” She nodded in another direction, saying, “I came to mingle with the likes of him.”

  Cole looked where she was nodding and said, “Not Harwood.”

  “He has connections, Cole. Money goes through him, people talk to him, deals go through him.”

  “Not Harwood.”

  Jackson Harwood began making his way to them and Cole turned to Maggie. “I’m telling you right now, Maggie, not Harwood. I won’t survive it. He won’t survive it.”

  Jackson sidled up, nodding to Cole and saying, “So, what do you think? Interested?”

  At their blank looks, he said, “Didn’t Tanner tell you?”

  Cole said, “We’ve been busy.”

  Maggie squeezed his arm. “Monday. Remember? We’re meeting with Tanner on Monday.”

  Cole looked at her, then back at Harwood. He couldn’t help his grimace. “You think Monday is about Harwood here?”

  Jackson said, “I’d be happy to meet with you, just name the time.”

  Cole said, “Eight o’clock. In Midland.”

  “In the morning? In Midland?”

  “I only do business in Midland. Just ask Margaret here.”

  Maggie gave him an arch look and said, “I won’t be in Midland, Jackson. Why don’t we meet for lunch. I’ll bring Tanner.”

  Cole took a long, long sip of champagne, draining it and looking around for a replacement. Something just a little bit stronger.

  Jackson shook his head. “Tanner was just the delivery person. I’ll be happy to meet with you alone, Margaret. Though perhaps a little later than eight?”

  He smiled at her and Cole thought he heard a popping sound. The popping sound veins made when blood boiled right out of them.

  Maggie turned her head to look at Cole as if she’d heard it, too.

  Maggie looked into Cole’s eyes and said, “Let me talk with Tanner tomorrow, Jackson. If I like what he says, we’ll get ahold of you.”

  When Jackson opened his mouth to argue, she turned to him and said softly, “No Tanner, no deal.”

  Cole said, “Or better yet, no deal. Ever.”

  Jackson threw his drink back. “I’ve done everything you wanted.”

  Cole gave Maggie a long look, then walked away. He couldn’t stand there and listen to her and Harwood.

  He knew she hated the man and yet she was willing to work with him again and again. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand Dallas.

  Maggie followed him moments later, taking his hand, leading him out to the dance floor. She stepped in close, moving slowly to the music.

  After a few minutes of silence, the feel of her body calming him like words couldn’t, she said, “Better?”

  He exhaled loudly. “I’ve remembered why I hate this place. Why I return to the dust and the swearing and the sweating every Monday.”

  “You return every Monday because it pays you an obscene amount of money. Enough for you to be able to choose. Choose who, how, when. I don’t have that choice.”

  “Yes, you do. And you choose to sell yourself.”

  “You mean because I’ll work with my greatest nemesis to stay afloat?”

  He pulled back to look at her. “Please tell me that you and me is different than you and him.”

  “Is it?” She stepped closer again. “It’s only different, Cole, because against my better judgment, I like you. Against my better judgment, I’ll work with him. If I refused to work with everyone I didn’t like, I’d be taking a permanent vacation.”

  “What if I keep you so busy, you don’t have time for Harwood?”

  She pulled back from him again and he could see the glint in her eye. She said, “Are you talking about sex again?”

  “No. But only because I don’t want you to knee me in front of all these sharks.”

  “You are putting on a good show for them. I’d hate to ruin it.”

  “Everyone wants to see if this is a love match or a power match. I’m just letting them see it’s both.”

  He tugged her closer, brought her hand to his heart. He said softly, “We forgot about a ring.”

  “Yes. Quick thinking on your part. Am I so hard to please?”

  “Oh, Maggie. Look up high maintenance in the dictionary and your picture will have the caption ‘Queen of’ underneath it.”

  She chuckled. “And no pre-nup? Where did that come from?”

  He shrugged. “Just popped out. She seemed to delight in pointing out it wasn’t your money.”

  “That would delight her, yes.”

  “And why does she hate you for her husband’s wandering eye?”

  “Paula can’t hate her husband. Her pre-nup is ironclad.”

  He whispered, “There is something about money.”

  “Yes. There is.”

  “Luckily, we won’t have one. A pre-nup. That way money won’t come between us.”

  Maggie shook her head. “If everyone thinks I’m getting your money, why would they want to work with me?”

  “Money goes to he who already has it. Or she. Don’t worry, this will only make them
want to work with you more.”

  “You might be right. You’re notoriously tightfisted; maybe they’ll think I can loosen the purse strings a bit.”

  He spun them quickly, bringer her in tighter. “Maybe you can. Starting with a ring.”

  “Cole–”

  “You know you need one.”

  “Fine. Just go get one.”

  He ignored the exasperation in her voice. “I know you. It has to be just right. Brassy enough to go with your ballbuster outfits, big enough to counteract your come-hither outfits.”

  “My come-hither outfits?”

  “Like that little skirt that looks respectable but rides up just enough to promise that you aren’t.”

  She took a step into him, leaving no space between them, pressing her cheek against his so he could feel her smile.

  “I’m respectable. The skirt says don’t you wish I wasn’t.”

  “Yes. I wish you weren’t. But that’s not what the skirt says.”

  He could feel her breath blow across his ear as she laughed quietly.

  He smiled, seeing a few faces turned in their direction, seeing hands come up to cover whispers, and he said, “I’ll come back early on Friday, take you to pick out a ring.”

  He could feel the tension in her back and he rubbed it soothingly. “It’s not a down payment on your soul, Maggie.”

  “Just my body?”

  “Maybe traditionally. But I think you should treat it like a contract.”

  She pushed against him until there was space between them again.

  He said, “That while my ring is on your finger, you’re mine. While my ring is on your finger, I’m yours. You can’t argue with that, can you?”

  “Is this why people make deals with the devil? Because it sounds reasonable?”

  “You already made the deal. This is the trappings.”

  She said, “I am starting to feel a little trapped, yes.”

  “I know you’re going to flash my ring around no matter what you say. You’ll work it, make everyone think what you want them to.”

  “Like that I’ve got you wrapped around my finger?”

  “Everyone knows it already. How else would you get me to marry you without a pre-nup?”

  She laughed. “I’ll let them know someday that all it takes is a fake engagement.”