The Rancher's Unexpected Family. Helen Lacey

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СКАЧАТЬ looked feisty enough to hit him over the head with a frying pan. And secondly, thinking about kissing her was plain old stupid. Despite the fact he found her so attractive. He was in Cedar River for one thing—his daughter. Nothing was going to derail that. Not the fact that he’d suddenly discovered he had a thing for redheads.

      “My mother homeschools, by the way,” Ash said, getting his attention. “Four hours every weekday. In case you were concerned about Maisy keeping up with her schoolwork.”

      He nodded. “How many kids do you have staying here right now?”

      “Three,” she replied and glanced toward his daughter and then back to him. “Four. Plus one.”

      He didn’t think he’d ever been anyone’s plus one before. Cole kept his gaze locked with hers and heat instantly climbed over his limbs. He ignored the feeling and drank some tea, which tasted like poison and made him grimace.

      “Not a tea drinker I take it?”

      He shrugged loosely. “More a coffee and beer kind of guy.”

      Her expression narrowed fractionally. “This is a dry ranch with a strict no-alcohol rule.”

      Great. “Sure.”

      “For the kids’ benefit,” she explained. “Troubled teens and alcohol can be a bad mix. So, I keep the place free of the stuff. Much to the dismay of my uncle Ted.”

      Cole understood. “I’m not much of a drinker,” he said quietly and endured another sip of the poisonous beverage in front of him.

      “We also have a no-smoking rule.”

      He looked up and met her green gaze. “I haven’t lit a cigarette since I was twenty-one.”

      She sipped her tea and smiled. “Sounds like you are vice-free.”

      Cole’s skin prickled. “I’m as flawed as anyone else.”

      Her eyes widened for a moment and it was incredibly sexy. Even the grease mark still on her chin was sexy. He wondered why every word between them sounded like some kind of crazy flirtation. He wasn’t in the market for flirting. For anything. And definitely not with a woman like Ash McCune. He didn’t do relationships anymore. He kept his love life casual and had since he’d split with his ex-wife and gotten out of their two-year marriage a few years earlier—he’d lost his house, his heart and a good chunk of his savings.

      Cole shrugged off the memory and got to his feet. “We should probably unpack.”

      She stared at him for a moment. “Sure. I’ll just get the bed linen. I’ll meet you outside.”

      He took off as though his heels were on fire, instructing Maisy to follow. By the time he was at the car and had taken their luggage from the trunk, the knot of tension in his shoulders had lessened. Until Ash McCune came around the porch and down the steps, carrying a wicker laundry basket piled with sheets and towels.

      She swayed when she walked. Swayed. Damn.

      Get a grip, Quartermaine.

      Cole grabbed both his and Maisy’s suitcases and left his daughter to bring his laptop and her small tote. He stayed several feet back as he followed Ash around the rear of the house and toward the largest of the five cabins that were all within a couple of hundred yards of the main house. She placed the basket on one hip, climbed the steps, opened the door and then walked inside. Cole did the same, instructing Maisy to follow, but her cell rang and his daughter quickly dropped her bag onto the porch near the door and sat down on the step. Figuring it was one of her school friends, he told her not to take too long and gave her some privacy, then entered the house.

      The cabin was roomy and open plan, with raked ceilings, a small kitchen and dining area and a large living space. There were a couple of mismatched sofas, a cabinet that housed a television, a gaming console and a large stone fireplace and hearth. It looked clean and comfortable and very livable.

      “There are two bedrooms,” she explained. “The fridge and pantry are stocked with the basics, but if you have any special dietary requirements, there’s a supermarket in town. You’re also welcome to join us for dinner at the main house whenever you like.”

      Cole nodded and followed her down the short hallway. She walked into a room on her left and placed the basket on the double bed. There was a robe, a small dresser and a chair in the corner and a worn rug on the floor. Cole thought about his huge penthouse apartment, with its modern decor and city views. He’d bought the place after his divorce, fully furnished and without any mementos from his failed marriage.

      “I’m sure we’ll be comfortable, thank you.”

      “Would you like me to make the bed up?” she asked.

      He realized they were standing on opposite sides of the bed and met her gaze head-on. He glanced at the mattress and the serviceable blue patterned quilt draped over the bottom frame. “I’ve been making my own bed since I was eight years old, so I’m pretty sure I can manage.”

      One of her incredibly sexy eyebrows arched dramatically. “Well, you did say you were good at most things.”

      Cole’s pulse quickened and he motioned toward the bed between them. Awareness flared up, fanned by how the small room suddenly seemed absurdly intimate. “Would you like me to prove it?”

      Her mouth opened slightly and she gasped. “Huh?”

      Cole didn’t miss the startled look in her eyes. “We could...” He paused, fascinated as color rose up her neck, hueing her pale skin. Without even knowing how it happened, there was enough heat combusting the air between them to start a fire. “We could make it together. The bed, I mean.”

      She swallowed hard and stepped back. “I don’t think... I’m sure you’ll manage without me.”

      Cole smiled and half shrugged. “Of course. But it won’t be anywhere near as much fun.”

      The innuendo was obvious and she turned beet red. And then fled.

      It was, he realized, still smiling to himself as he watched her retreating figure disappear through the doorway, going to be a very long three weeks.

       Chapter Two

      I am officially the most foolish woman on the planet.

      Ash was still cussing herself twenty minutes later as she washed up and changed into fresh jeans and a red blouse. Then she opened her laptop and typed in the name Cole Quartermaine.

      She clicked several of the links that came up, scanned the pages and sat back on the bed, looking at the images on the screen. The Quartermaines were an old-money family in Phoenix. His third-generation Irish Catholic father had a mop of auburn hair and sparkling blue eyes, and his African American mother was so beautiful she looked like a movie star. He had two sisters, both younger. One was a lawyer, the other a marketing executive who worked in the family business. Cole had been born into a NASCAR empire and had a promising career as a driver until a near-fatal accident when he was twenty-seven. Now he managed the family’s team alongside his father. It was impressive stuff.

      There СКАЧАТЬ