The Cowboy's Pride and Joy. Maureen Child

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СКАЧАТЬ such beautiful, thick, shiny hair?

      “Mike!” His shout jolted her out of her thoughts, thank heaven. When another man answered, Jake called out, “Take care of Midnight, will you? I’ve got some business to see to.”

      “Sure thing, boss,” the man said.

      “Midnight’s your horse?”

      “That’s right,” Jake told her just before he climbed over the corral fence to jump to the ground right beside her.

      There went that little warm bubble of something dangerous, she thought and tried to get a grip. She was not the kind of woman to idly daydream about a gorgeous man. Usually. Jake Hunter seemed to be an exception. He was so tall, she felt dwarfed as he loomed over her, even counting her heels, which were now slipping farther and farther into the dirt.

      Frowning, he looked down, then met her eyes and asked, “You wore high heels? To a ranch?”

      “Is that a problem?”

      “Not for me.” A ghost of a smile curved his mouth so briefly, she couldn’t be sure it had actually been there at all. Then he turned and headed to the house.

      She watched him go, those long legs of his striding purposefully across the graveled drive. He never looked back. Didn’t bother to help her as his grandfather had. She opened her mouth to shout after him, but snapped it shut before she could. Fuming silently, Cassidy drew first one heel then the other out of the dirt and started clumsily to the ranch house. Her first impression had gone fabulously badly. Now he thought she was an idiot for not dressing appropriately.

      Well, that was fine, because she thought he was a troll for walking off and leaving her when he knew darn well that walking across that gravel in heels was practically a competitive sport. So much for those warm, intimate thoughts, she told herself. For a woman to have a decent fantasy going, the hero of said fantasy had to at least be civil.

      Which seemed like too much to expect from Jake Hunter.

      * * *

      Jake headed straight for the great room and the wet bar. Usually it would be too early to have a drink, but today was different. Today, he had looked into a pair of cool fog-gray eyes and felt a stirring of something he hadn’t even thought about in more than two years. Hell, if he’d had his way he never would have felt that deep-down heated tickle of anticipation again.

      The only other time he’d ever experienced anything like it had led to a marriage made in hell.

      “Good times,” he muttered, and tossed his hat to the nearest chair. He shot a quick look out the wide front windows to the sprawl of gravel and grass beyond the glass. Damn woman was still coming, heading to the house with short, wobbly steps that almost made him feel guilty for leaving her to manage on her own.

      Almost. Yeah, he could’ve helped her across the uneven ground, but he would have had to touch her and that buzz of something hot and complicated was still fresh enough in his mind that he didn’t want to risk repeating it.

      “I didn’t ask her to come here,” he whispered and poured a shot of Irish whiskey into a crystal tumbler. Lifting the glass, he drank that shot down in one gulp and let the fire in its wake burn away whatever he might have felt if he were any other man.

      His gaze fixed on her through the window. Behind her, the wide sky was filling with heavy gray clouds that could bring rain or snow. You just never knew in Montana. Wind lifted her dark blond hair off her shoulders and threw it into a wild halo around her head. Her short red jacket clung to impressive breasts and stopped right at her narrow waist. Her black slacks whipped in the wind, outlining her legs—short but definitely curvy—and those stupid high heels wobbled with every step.

      A city girl. Just like the last woman he’d allowed into his life. And even as his body felt interest surge, his mind shrieked for some semblance of sanity. Why in the hell would he let himself be interested in the same kind of woman who had carved out a chunk of his soul not so long ago?

      He thought about pouring another drink, then decided against it as his mother’s gofer finally made her way onto the porch steps and followed him into the house.

      “Mr. Hunter?”

      “In here.” He heard those heels first, tapping against the bamboo flooring, and as those relentless taps came closer, he stepped out from behind the oak bar to meet her.

      She paused in the open, arched doorway and he watched as her gaze swept the room. He saw the pleasure and the approval in her eyes and felt a quick jolt of pride. When he moved to the ranch permanently, he’d wanted to build a new, bigger ranch house. Something that would house the whole family when they came to visit. Something that would mark the land as his. He wanted this place stamped as his, and Jake’s grandfather had given him free rein.

      He’d done a good job on this house. He’d designed it himself, working with an architect to build just the right place—something that would look as though it had always been standing here, in the forest. He had wanted to bring the outdoors in and he had been pleased with the results.

      The support beams had been built to look like tree trunks. The windows between those beams showcased the lake below them and the miles of open country, forest and sky that made Montana the best place in the world to live. Dark brown leather couches and chairs were arranged around the huge open space, and a river-stone fireplace stood on the far wall, flames inside the hearth dancing and snapping as a sharp wind chased across the top of the chimney.

      “Wow,” she said, stepping slowly into the room. “Just...wow.”

      “Thanks.” He smiled in spite of everything, enjoying her reaction to the home he loved. “Pretty great, I admit.”

      “Oh,” she said, shaking her head as she turned in place, taking in everything, “it’s better than great. It’s so gorgeous I’m even going to forgive you for being a jerk and leaving me out there to make it into the house on my own.”

      Surprised, he snorted a laugh. “Jerk? Is that the way to talk to your boss’s son?”

      Cool gray eyes slid over him. “I have a feeling she wouldn’t blame me.”

      He thought about it, imagining his mother’s reaction to how he’d left her assistant standing in the yard, and had to wince. “No. Probably not.”

      “Is there some reason in particular that you’re not happy to see me?” she asked. “Or is it women in general you disapprove of?”

      One corner of Jake’s mouth quirked. “Let’s answer that with another question. Are you always this forthright?”

      “Usually,” she said, nodding. “But I probably shouldn’t be. So maybe we should consider ourselves on even ground and start over. Deal?”

      He looked at her for a long moment and tried not to notice that her eyes were the very color of the fog that lifted off the surface of the lake. Or that her hair looked soft and tumbled, as if she’d just rolled out of bed. Damn, it really had been too long since he’d had a woman.

      “All right,” he agreed, to end his train of thought before it went even more astray of the subject at hand. “Deal. Now, you’ve got some papers for me to look over and sign, correct?”

      “Yes. СКАЧАТЬ