The Cowboy

To rescue Connor from my clutches. You might be able to do that, Maggie, but I doubt you'll get him out of my mother's hands. Wait until you see them together. They're made for each other."
    "It's all part of some plot you've cooked up, Rafe. Why don't you tell me what you're really after?"
    "You're beginning to sound paranoid, honey."
    "I'm not paranoid, I'm careful."
    He smiled fleetingly at that. "No, Maggie, you're not careful. If you were careful, you wouldn't be here."
    Margaret took refuge in silence for the next several miles. She folded her arms beneath her breasts and stared out the window at the arid landscape as she tried desperately to think. She had been struggling to put together some sort of battle plan ever since she had accepted the inevitability of this trip. But she was still very uncertain of what to do now that she was here. Part of the problem was that she could not be sure of what Rafe was really up to.
    She did not believe for a moment that he wanted to marry her. But it was entirely possible he wanted to seduce her so that he could have the satisfaction of punishing her for her so-called betrayal.
    Then, too, there was Moorcroft to consider. She didn't care what happened to Jack or his firm but she had to wonder if Rafe intended to use her in some scheme to get even with his rival.
    Finally there was the business of her father getting involved with Beverly Cassidy and planning to sell Lark Engineering to Rafe.
    No doubt about it, the situation was complicated and potentially dangerous.
    A typical Rafe Cassidy operation
, Margaret thought.

3
    « ^ »
    "T his your home, Rafe?" Margaret watched in amazement as the main buildings of the Cassidy Ranch came into view.
    Set in the foothills with a sweeping view of Tucson in the distance, the ranch was an impressive sight. At the end of a long, winding drive was a graceful house done in the classic Spanish Colonial style. The walls had the look of warm, earth-toned adobe and the roof was red tile. Lush greenery surrounded the place, a welcome antidote to the rugged desert landscape. Low, white, modern-looking barns, white fences and green pastures spread out from the house. Margaret could see horses in the fields.
    "Things were a little rushed during that two-month period after we met," Rafe reminded her coolly. "There wasn't time to get you down here to see the place before you… left me."
    "You mean before you threw me out of your life."
    Rafe drew a breath. "It was an argument, Maggie. A bad one. I lost my temper and said a lot of things I didn't mean."
    "Oh, you meant them, all right. Where are the cows?" Margaret added in mild curiosity. "Shouldn't there be cows on a ranch like this?"
    "This time of year the cattle are scattered all to hell and gone up in the foothills," Rafe said impatiently.
    "Why so many horses? They don't look like quarter horses."
    "They aren't. They're Arabians. We breed them. Some of the best in the world. The profit margin is a lot more reliable than cattle. In fact, I'm thinking of getting out of the cattle business altogether."
    "Well, that figures. I don't see you getting involved in anything that doesn't show an excellent profit margin. Have you considered chickens?"
    "
Chickens
?" His expression was a mask of outrage, the sort of outrage only a true cattleman could manage.
    "Sure. Red meat is out, Rafe. Haven't you been following the latest health advice? Chicken, fish and vegetables are in. Oh, and turkeys. You might try raising turkeys. I understand they're not real bright so you should be able to figure out a way to round them up and brand them if you feel you must maintain the old traditions."
    "Forget chickens and forget turkeys," he growled.
    "All right. I imagine the real basis for the family fortune is Cassidy and Company anyway, isn't it? You rustle companies now instead of cattle."
    Rafe slanted her a brief, annoyed glance as he parked the Mercedes. "You're determined to make this difficult, aren't you?"
    "As difficult as I can," she assured him as she opened her own car door and got out. "Where is my father?"
    "Probably out by the pool. That's where I left him when I went to get you." Rafe got out of the Mercedes just as a young man wearing a striped shirt and black jeans came around the corner of the house. "Tom, this is Maggie Lark. Maggie, this is Tom. He takes care of the house gardens and a lot of other odds and ends around here. Tom, grab the lady's luggage, will you? It goes into the south guest