He would need to talk to Jack about that one. Maybe they should improve the road. No wonder the Campbells were struggling if this was how prospective buyers were introduced to the ranch.

He finally reached the main house, a modest two-story L-shaped spread. It curved around a dusty courtyard where several beaten vehicles stood their ground. He switched off the engine, grabbed the folder and climbed out of the car, looking around with a cautious eye. He could see disuse and disrepair juxtaposed with tidy and clean. The house itself was tired and worn, but the windows were bright and clean. The road behind him may well have been pitted and stoned, but the fencing around the paddocks was pristine and white. The horses grazing there were sleek and glossy in the sun. The two barns to one side looked old, but the corral for the training was a match for the paddocks. There were strong contrasts, and it was easy to see that the Campbell money was being ploughed into the horses where it mattered. It smelled of hard work and cut grass, of Texan heat and stubborn courage. Unbidden and unlooked for, the thought suddenly arrived— it was like Jack. Just like Jack.

* * * *

With a bottle of beer in his fingers, Jack watched from a kitchen window as the sports car drew up in front of the main house. His eyes narrowed as he saw the tall man leave the car and stare unabashed at the ranch about him. Jack knew what he saw —disrepair, lack of funds, miles of untended land— and he could almost sense Hayes's contempt from here. Jack knew what the Hayes spread was like. He'd seen photos of the mansion, for want of another word, spread low and white on acres of land, knew what he had here was nothing compared to that.

Jack steeled himself. The Jack that Hayes was meeting now was the Jack he was going to have to live with, and this Jack… Well, this Jack wasn't gonna make it easy.

If he was going down and doing this thing, it was going to be on his terms. He was sick of the Campbells being played like pawns in these little Hayes power trips; first his dad, then his mom, who he'd held as she cried her tears of loss when his father died, and now his sister.

He blinked as Riley turned to face the house, and he was forced to admit to himself that the man was one piece of prime Texas flesh. If he wasn't… If he hadn't… Jack sighed, pulling himself together. Riley Hayes might be gorgeous, might be everything Jack normally looked for in a man physically, but all that lay at the center of him was a black, dead heart, and that was far from appealing.

Jack might be agreeing to this for his sister, but if Riley was expecting Jack to bend over and give him an easy ride then he was surely mistaken. It was time a Hayes learned exactly what a Campbell was made of.

The lesson started here.

Chapter 7

Jack opened the main door, looming large into the day from the cool interior of the ranch. "Hayes," he said simply, hesitating momentarily and then finally moving to one side to let Riley into his house.

"Jack," Riley replied, nodding, his eyes intent on discerning Jack's facial expression and his body language. He sighed inwardly. If he wasn't mistaken, it was a very different man who stood in front of him now from the one who'd left his office a few hours ago. This man was rigid, angry, focused, someone who was not going to roll over without a fight. As Riley followed him to the large airy kitchen, he could see iron in his spine in the way he held himself. Jack stopped, holding out his hand for the papers in the folder Riley held, and Riley handed them over without a word.

"There's coffee. Stay here," Jack said, his southern hospitality forcing its way through his icy demeanor. Riley nodded and moved to the counter, exploring the years of scratches and ridges under his soft fingers, his back to Jack. He didn't hear Jack leave, but when he turned to face the man, he was no longer there.

Jack sat in the sunroom, staring at the pages in his hand, twelve carefully drawn forthwiths and herewiths, all in a different language. He knew it was just a bargain as far as Hayes was concerned to get what he wanted. Money. It was the schedule attached that was the interesting part. Simple sentences, like someone else, not a lawyer, had written them. Perhaps even Riley?

The schedule was entitled Riley Nathaniel Hayes and __________________; clauses. He had to smile. Whoever had prepared the draft contract had left the space clear. Jack guessed Riley had a list of people he was going to ask, and he wondered how far down the list he had been. He scanned the list of clauses. Most of it seemed straightforward.

No partner shall give cause to make other people think that the marriage was not entered into for anything other than love.

Both parties to act like a married couple in public.

New partner entering into marriage to have no sexual or physical encounters outside of this marriage.

Partner to reside at the Hayes home.

Partner to attend all functions where needed, suitably attired, and with reference to previous clauses on appropriate behavior.

Partner to change surname to Hayes.

Partner to sign a pre-nuptial contract as stated in main contract.

In return, there was a not specified at this time financial settlement on this new partner and space for details. Jack wondered what it would finally say, and there was a sudden sorrow, tight and constricting in his chest. He imagined the words there— a promise to save his sister, to give the Campbell family a chance to stay whole.

He stood, stretching tall, the papers creased in his hands. Drawing in a deep breath, he went back into the kitchen, his own terms and clauses in his head. When he walked into the room, he found his nemesis facing the window, staring out over the ranch.

"For a start…" he began. Riley spun on his heel, coffee splashing on his expensive suit. "It will be Campbell-Hayes, not just Hayes."

Jack didn't move, his jaw set. He could almost see the thought processes in Riley's head, and the moment when the other man obviously realized it was a small battle he could afford to lose.

"Okay," Riley finally accepted.

"The money for Beth's care is signed over in trust so there is no backing out. It's set up so that Beth doesn't find out where the money is coming from. In addition to this, no one, and I mean no one, ever finds out about the contract or its implications for the year. There will be no big wedding, just a quick ceremony in Canada, well away from here, and back, simple rings, quiet."

Jack paused. So far so good.

"I need an even six million for the ranch, and you will at all times respect my day-to-day work here. It is, and will remain, my family's legacy. The contract will be written so it is out of your reach. End of story."

Riley nodded. "Agreed."

"I will move to your home. I will stay there for the one year, on two provisos."

"Which are?"

"There'll be occasions when I am needed here overnight for days at a time on ranch business. You will not give cause for me to be unable to fulfill those obligations."

"Why do you need to be here? Don't you have people to cover you?"

Temper rose in Jack in an instant. Fucking playboy thought he had people to take over the ranch if he wasn't here?

"When the mares are foaling, I could be needed here three, maybe four days and nights. At those times you will come here and live at the D with me."