Have Honeymoon, Need Husband. Robin Wells

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      The least he could do was take her luggage inside. And while he was at it, he might as well start a fire in the fireplace, too.

      

      Wrapped in a large white towel, with another wound turban-style around her hair, Josie opened the bathroom door fifteen minutes later to find Luke squatting before the fireplace, laying logs on a blaze of kindling.

      The tight ache in her chest loosened a little at the sight of him. She was glad he was still there; the idea of solitude had begun to lose its appeal. In fact, as she’d stood under the shower and castigated herself for ever getting involved with Robert in the first place, she’d dreaded spending the evening alone with her thoughts.

      How could she have allowed herself to be pushed and persuaded into nearly marrying a man she apparently didn’t even know? All of the anger that had propelled her into action was fizzling into painfully familiar self-doubt.

      Luke glanced up at her. She saw his Adam’s apple bob before he abruptly turned away and picked up another piece of wood. “I thought you might like a fire,” he said gruffly.

      “Thanks.” Her face burning, Josie wrapped the towel more tightly above her breasts and angled her body against the door so that only her head poked out. The towel covered more of her than some of her summer dresses did, but she was acutely aware of the fact she wore nothing under it. Something in the way his gaze swept over her told her he was aware of it, too.

      She saw her suitcases near the door, but didn’t want to parade across the room to get them. Her fingers tightened on the terry cloth. “Would you mind handing me the blue suitcase? I’ll throw on some clothes and be right out.”

      Luke complied, and Josie ducked behind the door to rapidly pull on a sweatshirt, jeans and a pair of thick socks. Still toweling her damp hair, she stepped back into the living room.

      The fire crackled and hissed, throwing a delicious warmth into the room. She walked up to it and gave a contented sigh. “This feels wonderful. Thanks.”

      Luke jammed his hands in his pockets. “No problem. I brought in some extra firewood for you. When you turn in for the night, just be sure the screen is in place.”

      “I will. Thanks.”

      “There’s a path to the lodge on the right side of the cabin. Breakfast is served from seven until ten in the lodge dining room. There’s a map of the ranch and some other information beside the phone.”

      “Great.”

      Luke watched her sling the towel over a chair and stretch out her hands to the fire. Man, she was pretty. Her hair fell in damp ringlets to her shoulders. Without the veil, he could see that it was the dark, rich color of a chocolate velvet cake.

      He needed to get out of here. The sight of her in that towel had just about done him in. “Well, if you’ve got everything you need, I’ll—”

      A knock sounded at the door, interrupting his words. He strode across the room and opened it.

      “Consuela.” He pushed the door wider and stepped back, making room for a large, smiling woman who bustled in with an enormous tray.

      “Manuel saw the lights on and told me our honeymoon couple had arrived,” the woman announced in a lilting Spanish accent. “So I brought the candlelight dinner over.” She gave Josie a sly grin as she set the huge tray on the pine plank dining table, then extended a plump hand. “Hello. I’m Consuela Perez.”

      Josie shook Consuela’s hand. “I’m Josie Randall.”

      The older woman looked around the room. “Where’s the lucky bridegroom?”

      “I don’t—” Josie faltered for words. Silence hung awkwardly in the room.

      Luke stepped forward. “Miss Randall’s wedding was canceled. She’s here alone.”

      “Oh!” Consuela’s hands flew up, her face wrinkling with concern. “Oh, ¡Pobrecita! You poor darling. Is there anything I can do to help?”

      Josie gave a self-conscious smile. “Thank you, but no.”

      “Do you want to talk? I’ve got a good shoulder to cry on.”

      “I’m fine.”

      “It always helps to talk these things out. We can stay here, or you can come home with me—”

      “That’s very sweet of you, but I’m fine.”

      Consuela searched her face, her brown eyes large with concern. “Are you sure?”

      “I’m sure.”

      “It’s not good to be alone at a time like this,” Consuela worried.

      Luke watched the exchange, knowing Consuela would persist until Josie gave in or he baled her out. Consuela had the biggest heart in the world, but she was no respecter of privacy, and she was about as subtle as a gale-force wind. Her warm, mothering nature wouldn’t allow her to take no for an answer if she was convinced someone needed nurturing.

      He decided to try to change the subject. “Consuela is the lodge’s head cook and housekeeper, Josie. She’s the person who keeps the place running. We couldn’t make it without her.”

      Josie smiled at her. “I’m sure that’s true. I used to work in a hotel, and I know how important both positions are. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Consuela.”

      Consuela preened, her stubby fingers smoothing her neat coil of gray-streaked black hair. “The pleasure is mine.” She motioned toward the tray. “Look—I’ve brought you a nice dinner.”

      “I’m afraid I don’t have much appetite,” Josie admitted.

      Consuela clucked like a worried hen. “But you must eat! The worst thing for a broken heart is an empty stomach, too.”

      Josie managed a smile. “All right…I’ll try. Thank you.”

      “How about you?” Consuela turned to Luke. “You haven’t eaten, either.”

      “I’ll grab something later at the house.”

      Consuela rolled her eyes. “A can of cold spaghetti is not a meal.” She glanced at Josie. “He lives alone and doesn’t take care of himself. His animals eat better than he does.”

      “Why don’t you join me?” Josie offered. “After all, it’s a dinner for two. It’s a shame for it to go to waste.”

      Consuela nodded approvingly. “That’s a wonderful idea! Then neither of you will eat alone.”

      Luke suppressed a groan as Consuela -bustled around, uncovering fragrant dishes and setting the table with the ranch’s best china. He knew the housekeeper had set him up, but he couldn’t think of a decent excuse to get out of it.

      Consuela leaned her hefty frame across the table and lit a candle. “There!” she proclaimed, clasping her hands over her ample bosom. “All set.”

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