A Rancher of Her Own. Barbara White Daille

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      Arms crossed, he leaned against the door frame and watched Jane go up the ladder. “You do realize that sticker on the step you just breezed past says not to climb any higher, right?”

      “I need to find the best angle.” She sat astride the top of the ladder, one foot braced on the paint tray.

      While he could and did admire the view, he didn’t think much at all of her position. “I’ll tell you what you’ll find if you’re not careful—your head cracked open after you fall into that tub.”

      “Not your problem.”

      “No. Not until I have to explain the situation to Jed.”

      “Don’t worry—Grandpa won’t sue you. And if you’re that concerned, I’ll sign a waiver.” After a few clicks with her camera, she frowned and glanced toward the window near the head of the tub. “Can you move that curtain to one side?”

      “It’s bright as day in here already.”

      “The sun’s going down, though, and I want to catch the light streaming in across the bubbles.”

      He’d called it right about her liking things just so. He flipped up the bottom of the curtain to loop it over the rod.

      Again, she frowned. “Not exactly the effect I was looking for. As I said the first time, could you hold the curtain aside?”

      “You really are a perfectionist, aren’t you?”

      For a moment, her lips pressed into a tight, straight line. Then she smiled. “You ought to see my hospital corners when I make a bed.”

      “Was that an offer?” The words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about the consequences. What was it about Jane that scrambled his brain?

      She gave him a slow smile. “Cowboy, if I made you an offer, it would be perfectionistically clear.”

      The image that brought to mind left him breathless. He turned and shoved the fabric across the rod, then stood looking through the window. One way or another, he needed to forget these thoughts he was having about her. Or find out if he actually had seen that spark of interest earlier.

      “You know, if you’d really rather not do this,” she said mildly, “you could send someone else to take your place.”

      No, he couldn’t, thanks to Jed.

      Damn. He owed the boss so much, yet here he was, having inappropriate thoughts about the man’s granddaughter.

      He turned and looked up at her on the stepladder. “Just looking out for your safety.”

      “Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I’ve been in much riskier places than on a ladder in a hotel room.”

      “Name two.”

      “At the scene of a government overthrow. And undercover in a drug lord’s headquarters.”

      She’d made the statements so matter-of-factly, he couldn’t question the truth of them. Her blank expression told him not to pursue this part of their conversation.

      He’d heard Jed complain often enough about his granddaughter’s job as a photojournalist. Till now, he’d had no idea of the level of danger involved. He suspected Jed didn’t, either.

      “And you’ve gone from that to this?”

      She laughed, low and husky, setting off that rattling sensation inside him again. “When Grandpa speaks, I listen.”

      He thought of what she had said about her father, another topic she didn’t seem inclined to discuss. “And when your dad speaks, you pay attention, too?”

      “Something like that.” She swung her leg over the top of the ladder and clambered down the steps, one hand held in front of her to protect the camera on its strap. “I think we’re done here.”

      He glanced at the tub. “That’s a waste of hot water. And not to mention all the fun we’d miss out on with the bubbles.”

      “Is it your turn to make me an offer?”

      “Something like that.” He hadn’t deliberately echoed her words, but they were out before he could stop himself.

      “You’re right. Why waste all those bubbles? Why don’t you feel free to jump in—” she raised the camera “—and give me a big smile.”

      He stepped forward, reaching out to cover the lens. It put him close enough to see the pure silver gray of her eyes surrounded by lashes as dark as her hair. “I’ll pass on that offer, too.”

      “Why? Are you camera-shy?”

      The real answer would take too long and tell her much more than he wanted her to know. “Let’s make things perfectly clear, the way you like ’em.” He tugged gently on her silver chain and watched her eyes darken. “Honey, I’m not shy about anything.”

      * * *

      IGNORING PETE’S BOOTS clomping behind her, Jane walked down the hotel’s stairs to the first floor on legs that weren’t quite as steady as normal.

      In the suite upstairs, his teasing hadn’t meant a thing; it had just been his way of yanking her chain. Of trying to get the upper hand, the way he had always done—though years ago, he’d certainly never attempted that by moving in close enough for a kiss. To her shock, his nearness had made her pulse pick up. Now the idea of kissing him made it spike.

      She needed to get a grip on more than her camera.

      As they reached the lobby, Tina came out from her office behind the registration desk. “There you are. Pete, Rachel’s in the dining room.”

      Jane noticed Pete shoot a glance toward her before looking back at Tina. “The kids are home already? I didn’t realize it was that late.”

      “They were just dropped off a few minutes ago.”

      “I’ll check in and say hello.”

      Before he could turn to go down the hallway to the dining room, they heard footsteps approaching from that direction. She hadn’t seen Pete’s daughter for quite a while, but she recognized the small, blond-haired girl dressed in a red T-shirt and denim shorts who entered the lobby, followed by Jed.

      To her surprise, the girl gave her a big grin.

      “Hi, Jane!” she shrieked. “I knew you would come back because you have to be in the wedding. And we have to try on our dresses. Mine’s soooo pretty. Like your dress and Andi’s and Ally’s—well, but mine’s smaller. Ally’s is different because she’s the best maid and—”

      “Maid of honor,” Pete put in.

      “—maid of honor and she gets to be special. But I get to be special, too, because I’m going to carry flowers. Nobody else gets to carry flowers like mine—did you know that? And nobody else gets to drop them on the floor. Only me, right, Daddy?”

      “Right,” СКАЧАТЬ