Page 2 of Bryson

Julianne had stuck it out for as long as she could, until she couldn't. The parting had been painful with them both saying things to hurt each other. From the very beginning, their relationship had been volatile, with them arguing and making love in a feverish frenzy that often left them gasping for breath and frightened at the intensity and power of their coupling. She had left the ranch one early morning, with the painful image of Bryson riding off to attend to his duties after instructing one of his men to take her to the airport.

Her hopes that when he had calmed down enough, he would come and find her had been dashed. It had not been quite a month before she noticed that he was seeing someone else. The proof had been in the tabloids. There had been photos of a party at his club, with a blonde clinging to him and smiling. The blonde was someone she had seen at the ranch and was a friend of the family.

"Honey?"

Shaking off the painful memories, she forced herself to concentrate on her best friend and attempted to smile.

"Yes?"

"When will you leave?"

"I haven't said I would."

He quirked a brow at her as he fished for his olive and popped it into his mouth. "I could make my plane available for the trip and accompany you to make sure you're all right."

And he would too, Julianne mused with an inward smile. Brian had always been there for her, and she had never taken his friendship for granted.

"Thanks," she told him warmly, reaching over to cover his hand with hers. "But this is something I have to do on my own. And I won't be taking a leave of absence."

He frowned at her. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I love my job." She lifted her chin determinedly. "I will do Bryson the courtesy of not telling him the news over the phone, but I will be flying back and resuming my life. We will come to some arrangements concerning the baby and go our separate ways. He's involved with someone." She managed to say it without choking but Brian was not fooled. As a best friend, he had been witness to the intense passion between them and had been the one to try and console her when she returned heartbroken. Besides which, the McNabs were a powerful family and there was no way in hell the man was going to allow her to part ways again, not while she was carrying his baby.

"What?"

"You're fooling yourself," he told her mildly. Waiting until their salads had been placed in front of them, he continued. "Bryson McNab is not going to allow you to leave."

"He has no choice." Briskly attacking her meal, she ignored the tremors going through her body. "And it's my life and I intend to live it as I damn well please."

Bryson Ian McNab sat straight in the saddle of his magnificent thoroughbred mare, shoulder-length dark hair blowing in the wind, a brooding expression on his harsh, handsome face. His skin was darkened to a golden brown color by the sun, theelements creating creasing lines at the corners of his emerald green eyes. His nose had a slight uneven hook to the bridge, having been broken when he was merely a child of ten, thrown off a particularly mean-spirited horse he was trying to break in.

He was the owner of several thousand acres of land and master of all he surveyed. The Circle M ranch had been in his family for generations and had been passed down to him on the death of his father five years ago. He had taken over seamlessly, because he had been training for the role for as long as he could remember.

His father had been a harsh man, preferring to rule his 'kingdom' with an iron fist. Bryson had chosen a different method. During Ian McNab's time, the ranch hands had served in fear and had only stayed on because of the excellent salary and benefits, but there had been a lack of morale that had been evident. Bryson had seen it, had been privy to it, because he had started out as a lowly stable hand. His father had believed in him learning the business from the ground up. Bryson thought the old man had done him a great favor. He had gone off to university to be properly educated, but most of what he had learned had been from working the ranch.

He knew everything about the place and would never dream of going anywhere else.

He sat there on his pawing horse, gazing at the acres of grounds, the cattle grazing, the outbuildings with satisfaction. It was asatisfaction that had been marred by unbidden thoughts of the woman who had left. He believed he had wrenched her from his heart, but recently, thoughts of her had filtered through his mind. He was with someone else now, a beautiful woman who would never dream of arguing with him at every turn. It was bloody good that she had left and he had been right not to go after her like a lovesick moron. She didn't belong to his world, and it was fortunate that he had found out before he foolishly asked her to marry him as he had been about to do. Damn her! he thought bitterly.

She had wrapped herself around his heart and turned him into putty.

For a week after she left, he had spent the nights in a cold sweat, aching to feel her slender curves against his. Each time he closed his eyes, it was to see her beautiful mahogany eyes laughing into his and her intoxicating lips that had driven him to incredible insanity.

Sighing harshly, he effortlessly vaulted from Thor, taking the reins and tying them around a sapling. Removing his hat, he raked long fingers through his unruly dark hair as he walked towards the stream bubbling over smooth rocks. It was late and it looked like they were in for one of those summer storms. His duties were finished for the night. He had checked the perimeters for more breaks in the fence and rounded up some cattle that had wandered away from the others.

He was exhausted and hungry, having missed the meal the men had prepared near the barn. By the time he returned to the ranch, supper would have ended, but he was restless. For some unknown reason, he was feeling moody and incredibly sad, and he was thinking of her. He had a decision to make. His mother was pressing him to make his relationship with Sara-Lee a permanent one. She did not understand that he was not ready. Hunkering down, he trailed his fingers through the cold clear water, a frown tugging at his brow.

Julianne was saucy and impudent. She was bold and did not give one hell about the words that came out of her mouth. They had argued incessantly and made up with a passion that had left him breathless. She had made an impression on him that seared through to his soul.

"Jesus Christ!" he whispered fiercely, getting to his feet with the lithe grace that years of riding the range had accomplished. He was three inches over six feet and had the long, lean body of a wolf. The muscles in his forearms bunched and flexed as he stretched his hands out and cracked his fingers together. Bending to pick up the hat he had dropped, he jammed it back on his head and turned towards his waiting horse. He could go to Sara-Lee and try to get rid of the sudden tension in his loins. She wouldn't mind him going to her at this late hour. In fact, she would welcome him without argument and open arms.

With that thought in mind, he mounted his horse and set off to his destination.

"I apologize," he muttered. The mortification was almost suffocating. First he had tracked dirt inside her foyer, and then to compound the indignity, he was having difficulty performing. And true to form, Sara-Lee was very forgiving. "I should go."

"You don't have to." Sara-Lee reached out to grab his arms, her fingers hesitant.

Turning his head, he silently studied her face. She was flushed from the kisses they exchanged, turning her alabaster skin into a pink and white color. Her thick blonde hair was spilling over her left shoulder. The vision before him would have made any man want to ravish her. But not him, he thought bitterly. He had thought that he could lose himself in her and forget, but it had backfired.