Admittedly, though, their expectations for her probably hadn’t been half as exalted as she’d imagined them to be. She hadn’t done a lot of listening before breaking the ties with home. At the first opportunity, she had fled Texas, first to attend college, then to roam the country in search of herself. It was time, she had thought, to do something totally outrageous, to discover what she was truly made of. Being angelic was a bore. She wanted to be wicked or, if not actually wicked, at least human.

Unfortunately, even after four years at Stanford and a year on her own the answers still eluded her. Over the past few months she’d had plenty of empty nights to examine her past. She was human, all right. The very human mistakes were mounting up.

She’d made the worst miscalculation of all in Montana with a rancher named Clint Brady, a low-down scoundrel if ever there was one, she thought bitterly. Her mound of a belly was testament to that. She wasn’t looking forward to the hurt and worry that her parents would try their best to hide when they saw her and realized just how much trouble she’d managed to get herself into. She hated the thought of the heartbreak she would read in their eyes.

She was less worried about the reaction of her incredible grandfather, Harlan Adams. When it came to family, he was thoroughly predictable. He would probably set off fireworks to celebrate the birth of his first great-grandbaby. If he had questions about the baby’s conception, he’d keep them to himself.

For the time being, anyway, she amended. As meddlesome as he was capable of being, he wouldn’t be silent for long. By year’s end he’d probably have a lynch mob searching for the baby’s father, assuming he could get Angela to name him, which she had no intention of doing. Not even Clint Brady deserved to face the rancor of the Adams men, once they’d been riled up.

In addition to Luke and her grandfather, there were Cody and Jordan. They might be wildly different in some ways, but they all shared the Adams gene for pure cussedness and family loyalty. Clint wouldn’t have a prayer against the four of them. He’d be hogtied and married to her before he could blink. She would have no more say in the matter than he did.

To her chagrin, just the thought of Clint and her wild and reckless behavior in Montana made her blood run hot. Until she’d met him, she’d had no idea that passion could be so overwhelming, so completely and irresistibly awe inspiring.

Nor had she known how quickly passion could turn to hatred and shame.