I told Robert I would carry his heir to secure the ranch under the rodeo deadline because my body could give him the bloodline he dreaded losing, and I needed a legacy of my own. The fear of emptiness made me bold, even as his possessive stare warned this pact would not stay clean.

The pact was made on the porch over open ledgers, and nothing about it has stayed on paper since. Every touch from here on promises to cross from duty into the repeated claiming we both crave but refuse to admit.

The rival stands at the corral fence watching, and I feel the trap closing. If we let want replace the contract, the child we create may never be enough to save us.