A Rancher of Her Own

“Something wrong with the tea?”

The question made him realize he was scowling. “No, the tea’s fine. What does your dad have to do with your perfectionism?”

She shrugged. At her movement, the necklace she wore shifted across the front of her blouse. Sunlight glinted off the silver links, drawing his attention to her curves. Again.

“He’s an Army general,” she said. “That ought to explain it.” She downed her iced tea and licked the sweetness from her upper lip.

Almost without thinking, he did the same. Then he blinked and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It wasn’t moisture he was attempting to brush away, but a sudden thought he had no business having.

“I’d better get inside and see if I can help Paz with anything. Are you done with that?”

He nodded and held the empty glass out to her. She moved to reach for it, then froze for a moment, her gaze locked with his. They stood so close, it wouldn’t take but a half step to bring their bodies together. Before he could say yea or nay on giving that a try, she stepped back.

“We’ll meet in the lobby again, around two?”

Her tone was cool as usual, but had her voice wobbled just a bit?

Glad to see her return to the house, he stayed there for a minute, leaning against the rail.

Maybe she’d been right to question his ability to hide his feelings. Which meant he’d better work twice as hard at keeping his thoughts—and his reactions—in line.

What he questioned was the flare of interest in her eyes...and the wisdom of testing if it was real or his imagination.

Chapter Three (#u5a7c892c-468a-5445-acd6-bd709911faea)

Not long after the start of their afternoon session at the Hitching Post, Pete’s memories of the smart-mouthed teen Jane had once been came rushing back full force. A very good thing, as it made him forget the crazy questions that had plagued him since they’d parted that morning.

She had gone all out with the rearrangement of one of the hotel suites “to catch the right slant of the sun,” and her never-ending orders rubbed him the wrong way.

He set the stepladder she had requested next to the claw-foot tub in the suite’s bathroom.

She ran plenty of hot water and added several squirts of a liquid soap into the flow, creating a cloud of fluffy white suds that rose well above the edges of the tub. The amount of bubbles would have satisfied even his daughter.

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.”