What The Rancher Wants.... Lucy Monroe

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СКАЧАТЬ acted like an untried filly. He’d seen her looking at him with something hot in her pretty brown eyes and that gave him hope, but she didn’t flirt or encourage him in any other way. She was like a mare going into heat, not sure she wanted to be covered by the stallion and playing hard to get.

      He’d let her dance around the corral some, but eventually he was going to corner her.

      She rubbed her head, the action pressing her generous breasts against the big white apron she wore from the moment she arrived until she went home in the afternoon. “No. I didn’t hear you. Why didn’t you say something?”

      “I did.” Just not right away.

      She ignored that. “Those cabinets aren’t very convenient. It’s almost impossible to reach the back without climbing right in.”

      He shrugged. “I can reach them just fine.”

      She went all squinty-eyed. “Well, I can’t and I’m the housekeeper. Unless you want to do the cooking, you’d better find some way to make the pots and pans stored down there more accessible.”

      He thought about it. “Maybe I could have a pull-out shelf installed by one of the ranch hands. Would that work?”

      She looked nonplussed by his easy acquiescence. “Yes. That would be fine. Terrific, in fact.” Then her eyes took on a wary cast. “Not Lonny.”

      He narrowed his own eyes, trying to read the expression on her face. “Has he said something to you? Made you uncomfortable?”

      She turned and picked up the big stew pot she’d been after. “I’d just rather not have him underfoot. I like Shorty. Can he build the shelf?”

      She set the stew pot in the sink and turned on the water.

      Win didn’t like dropping the subject of Lonny, but he had the impression that Carlene had said all she wanted to. Maybe she’d noticed the way Lonny looked at her too and was embarrassed by it.

      With her looks, you might think she was used to that sort of male attention, but Win got the impression that she didn’t like it. “Shorty’s handy, but I need him in the stables right now. Call a carpenter to install the pull-out.”

      Turning off the water, she looked at him over her shoulder, a smile of gratitude playing on her lips. “Are you sure?”

      “Honey, you can’t be wondering if I can afford it.” Hell, most women were only too happy to spend his money.

      She laughed. “No, more wondering if you thought it was worth it. I’m glad you do. I’ll call the carpenter tomorrow. Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.”

      She went to lift the cast-iron pot and water sloshed over the side. “I forgot how heavy these things are.”

      He sidled up behind her and put his arms around her. Taking a firm grip on the handle, he lifted it. “You want it on the stove?”

      She stood still, like a rabbit caught in a snare. “Yes, please.”

      Her voice came out all breathy and soft. He wanted to lean down and kiss the creamy skin of her neck and see what that did to her voice, but he controlled himself. A mare couldn’t be broken to bit if the handler startled her early on with demands she wasn’t prepared to meet.

      He stepped back, using one hand to carry the pot. He set it on the stove for her.

      She turned to face him, the skin of her cheeks a rosy hue. He liked this additional evidence that his nearness had an effect on her. Standing so close to her had a pretty strong impact on him too. He’d be walking like a saddle-sore greenhorn, if he weren’t careful. His usually comfortable jeans felt tight enough to do damage right now.

      “Thank you.”

      “Anytime, honey.”

      She busied herself putting the stew together and he just watched. He liked the way she moved, her actions fluid and graceful. When she opened the fridge to pull out the meat, she squatted rather than bending over to get it. Amusement at the action tugged at him. If she thought the view of her thighs pressed against blue denim was any less exciting than her backside, she had a lot to learn about men.

      She straightened and put the meat on the cutting block. “What?”

      “Something the matter, honey?”

      She took in a deep breath and blew it out with her eyes shut, then she opened them. “What are you doing in here? I don’t think you want cooking lessons, so why are you hanging around watching me prepare dinner when you’ve got a stable to return to?”

      Her surly tone made him grin. “You’re bossy, aren’t you?”

      He could just about hear her teeth grinding together. “You’re the one that told me you want to work uninterrupted—not have to deal with anything domestic. You must have come up to the house for a reason.”

      “Yeah.”

      “What is it?” She looked as if she’d like to wrap her fingers around his neck, but not with the intention of doing anything nice.

      Why had he come up to the house? Oh, yeah. “I was wondering if you could put together a couple of casseroles for the weekend. Rosa used to do it and it helped me out a heap.”

      She nodded. “That won’t be any problem.”

      “Good.” He turned to leave and then stopped. “Maybe I’ll put that shelf in for you myself, tomorrow.”

      “No, really…your idea of calling a carpenter is a good one.”

      “If you insist.”

      He left the kitchen with the look of consternation on her face fixed clearly in his mind. She noticed him all right. She hadn’t look horrified, just thrown for a loop and he figured that was a good sign.

      He’d break that filly to bridle, but first he had to get her used to having him around. Then he’d work on the touching.

      Just like a nervous mare and he had a real special touch with nervous fillies, just ask anyone.

      Carlene was ready to quit her job as Win’s housekeeper two weeks later. Between Lonny’s glares and Win’s bedroom eyes, she was at her wit’s end.

      Win never implied that her job was even slightly reliant on her sleeping with him, but then again he made no bones about the fact that he wanted her in his bed. He hadn’t actually come out and said so, but he watched her with a hot gaze that made her insides melt. It didn’t help that he found more excuses than a student with spring fever did to skip class, to get close to her.

      Just yesterday he had insisted on helping her get a large ceramic bowl down from the top shelf in the pantry. That would have been fine except that he didn’t allow her to move out of the way before his strong, masculine body was stretching up and leaning over her to reach the bowl. Again, no problem.

      Except that the effect Win’s closeness had on her senses couldn’t be denied. She’d forgotten for one full minute what she’d been planning to СКАЧАТЬ