The storm sealed us into the cellar together. Simon's low voice cut through the noise, reminding me how he'd watched me these past years, holding the ranch together after my husband's passing while I fought to keep my independence intact.

He offered the protection I needed, but his words carried the weight of claiming more, of filling the legacy with an heir from my body under his steady command. My defiance rose even as desire twisted through me, and the thought of yielding to this older man who had worked for my late husband made my autonomy feel suddenly fragile. The cellar door was not locked. I never reached for it.