Reckless Heart

by Barbara McMahon

  “You don’t need to buy us food.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Molly, I pay for the food on the Rafter C.”

  “All right! The receipt's in my purse, I’ll get it when I finish cleaning here.”

  “Fine. I have some laundry that needs doing, too.”

  “Of course, I’m here to serve,” she muttered, feeling out of sorts. She needed to be alone to bring her rioting imagination under control.

  “Just so you remember.”

  “What?”

  “That you’re here to serve. Not to go off on some writing tangent any time you feel the urge.”

  Writing wasn’t the urge she felt right now. Hitting him over the head with a vase came close.

  She tossed her hair and moved past him. “I know what I’m here for, and don’t think I won’t do the best job you’ve ever seen.”

  “You have a way to go to prove that to me,” he mumbled, slamming his hat on his head and striding across the hall to the office.

  Molly acknowledged he had a point. So far her performance hadn't been very good. But she knew more now and wouldn’t make the same mistakes twice.

  She ran upstairs. While she cleaned the downstairs, she’d pop his things into the washer. Hesitating only a moment, she pushed open the door to his room. Glancing around curiously, Molly studied the masculine clutter. Clothes were piled haphazardly around. The bed, rumpled and unmade, drew her attention. For a moment, she imagined Josh stretched out on the dark sheets, a golden warrior resting before the next battle. Sunlight bright and bold bathed the room in clear light.

  She moved to the piles of clothes and began to sort them for the wash. She could smell horses and dust and male sweat. Her heart kicked into high gear at Josh’s scent. Strong, masculine, enticing, it kept her attention focused on him even when he was absent.

  Frowning, she picked up the pile of jeans and headed downstairs. The washer and dryer were off the kitchen. She’d start the load, and begin to clean the living room.

  Just maybe this job wasn’t the perfect one to enable her to write, Molly admitted as she stood out of the way of the lunch stampede. She'd made thick roast beef sandwiches for the men, three large ones each. A huge fruit salad, which had taken every bit of fruit she’d bought just yesterday, and three bags of chips, graced the table, as well. She poured hot coffee as they began to eat.

  Josh arrived a couple of minutes after the rest of them and flicked a glance to Molly as she scanned the table to make sure she’d prepared enough food this time.

  “Coffee?” she asked as he sat at the head.

  “Yes.”

  Josh sipped the hot beverage and stared at her over the rim of the cup. Flushed from the heat in the kitchen, Molly met his gaze, her eyes locked with his and she smiled before turning away.

  He watched her cross the room, his gaze drifting down to the tight jeans that hugged her hips. He set his cup down with a thunk and glanced around at the men eating. Lance met his eye, looked back at Molly. Josh frowned—he didn’t need any of the men getting distracted by Molly. He stared at Lance until the foreman met his gaze again and grinned.

  Josh didn’t need the distraction himself. Molly was his housekeeper until the agency sent another. Why they’d sent her in the first place was beyond him. And he didn’t like it one bit. He wanted someone more suitable to ranch life.

  When Molly sat down beside him and reached for a sandwich, he couldn’t help noticing how gracefully she moved, how her hair gleamed in the kitchen light with threads of gold mingled with the brown. How her gaze moved shyly around the rough cowboys, and how easily she replied to their remarks.

  For a moment, the old anger surfaced. Jeannie had charmed everyone, flirted with everyone until he’d almost exploded. When he called her on it, she’d act all hurt and upset. It had all been a game to her. One with disastrous consequences.

  He studied Molly, annoyed to find her attitude more friendly than flirtatious. Her wide-eyed curiosity about ranch life appealed to the men and they were knocking themselves out to explain everything to her.

  Molly felt Josh’s eyes on her but ignored him. She gave every appearance of listening to what Pete told her about shoeing horses on the range. But her attention split, only one part really listened, the other tried to figure out her reaction to Josh Hart every time he came near her.

  It was odd, but she felt somehow attuned to him. She knew when he watched her, could feel the attention like a touch. She wished she dare turn and meet his gaze, hold it until he looked away first.

  An imp of mischief took hold. Maybe she’d have to prove to him that she wasn’t interested in him. Maybe playing up to one of the cowboys—

  Lance caught her eye, his studying her. He flicked a quick glance to Josh, back to Molly, a slow grin starting. Molly flushed. Had he read her mind? When he winked at her, she looked away. Too bad she didn’t feel the same attraction to Lance. He was handsome, tough with the men, yet had a sensitivity about him that she found immensely appealing. However, no attraction simmered between them, not like she felt with—

  “If you’d like, you can come with me this afternoon,” Lance said easily. “I can show you some more of the ranch.”

  “She has work to do here,” Josh growled, frowning at his foreman. “I pay her for housework, not to keep you company while you work.”

  Lance grinned and shrugged. “Sure thing, boss. I just thought Molly might like to see some of the ranch, that’s all. You know, have her get to know the place she now calls home.”

  “She’s not going to be here long enough to call this home,” Josh said, glaring at Molly.

  The men stopped eating and stared at Josh, then Molly. Slowly, one by one, they looked at each other. Conversation lagged for several minutes, before picking up again.

  Molly glared at him. There was no need for him to announce to the entire table that she wasn’t wanted.

  She started to say something, thought better of it and snapped her mouth closed. If the reports from the agency were to be believed, Josh was going to have a long wait to find a replacement.

  And while she didn’t plan to stay forever, she wanted to leave on her terms, not his.

  She smiled at Lance. “Thanks for the offer. Maybe on my day off.”

  Throwing Josh a challenging look, she dared him to deny she would have some free time. No matter how hard a boss he proved, everyone got time off.

  “I’ll take you around on your day off, if you want to see the rest of the ranch,” Josh said, reaching for the coffeepot and refilling his cup.

  Molly thought she’d enjoy seeing the ranch with Lance, but wasn’t so sure about going with Josh. Maybe she could get him to unbend a little before her day off so the day wouldn’t be awkward. Did he ever laugh and joke like the other men did? What did he do with his off time?

  With lunch over, Molly returned to cleaning. She made inroads in the living room and wanted to finish before starting dinner. The room had been neglected for too long. She had dusted everything, cleaned the pictures, and vacuumed the rug, floor and furniture. She wanted to wash the windows so the room would sparkle. There was something very satisfying about bringing order out of chaos. She liked knowing she was making a difference in the room, in the house. To the men.

  Josh had gone into his office to work after lunch and Molly heard his voice from time to time on the phone. Getting the window cleaner and a roll of paper towels, she began the final task in the room. As she worked, her gaze was drawn time and again to the rich green grass of the range that spread out before her. In the far distance the dark outline of the distant mountains rose from the high plains. They seemed to absorb the sunlight.

  She saw the trees near the house sway in the wind. This would be a perfect setting for a romance novel. She could describe the lushness of the ranch. Maybe have her heroine and hero get lost in the vast range. She frowned. No, that wouldn’t work, the hero would know his way around and—

  “Molly?”
/>   She turned. Josh stood inches away. She hadn’t heard him come in.

  “Yes.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Washing windows.” What did it look like she was doing?

  “You haven’t moved a muscle in minutes. I watched you.”

  She shook her head and turned back to the window. The cleaner had run and dried. She'd been daydreaming again. Guiltily, she sprayed the cleaner on again and wiped hard to eradicate the streaks. “Was there something you wanted?”

  “I realized after lunch that we hadn’t discussed your days off. I thought the usual ones of Saturday and Sunday.”

  “What about meals for the men on those days?” she asked.

  Embarrassed, she worked while she talked. She didn’t want him to fire her for daydreaming. Three times before was enough.

  “We can get our own. Even when Rachel was here, she didn't cook every day.”

  “I don’t mind cooking, if you want. If I can write the rest of the day. I don’t have any place else to go,” she said.

  “Most of the men take off for town on Saturdays. You might make something ahead for Sunday dinner that we can heat up.”

  She nodded, every inch of her body aware of Josh’s proximity. Diligently, she sprayed another pane, began to wipe it clean. Distracted with her reactions around him, she tried to cover her feelings. She'd die if he ever suspected her interest.

  “What were you doing when I came in?” He refused to let it go.

  “I guess I was thinking about the ranch. It’s pretty here. You can see the mountains in the distance; between here and there all the range is green with grass. I can just see some cattle on that rise to the left.”

  “The room looks nice,” he said almost grudgingly.

  He had work to do. He didn’t have time to hang around his housekeeper while she washed windows. Glancing around, he noticed how tidy she’d made everything; even the pictures on the walls sparkled.

  She was right, when she worked, she proved to be a hard worker. But he knew she’d been a million miles away when he’d walked into the room.

  “The pictures are of your family?” Molly asked when she turned to see if he had left and found him staring at the photographs.

  “My brother and sister. My folks died when we were young.”

  “I’m sorry. Do your brother and sister live near here?”

  “Brianna lives in Texarkana where she teaches at the local college. Jase and his wife have a spread in west Texas.”

  “So he’s a rancher, like you?”

  Josh turned to face her, his face impassive. “He’s always been a rancher. He kept us together with him after our folks died. He really raised Brianna and me. The Rafter C belongs to all of us, not just me.”

  “But you run it.”

  “Yeah, I run it.”

  “Very successfully, I’d say,” Molly said with a smile.

  Josh’s expression hardened. Tension filled the room. “Well enough,” he retorted.

  Molly wondered what she’d said wrong. Most people liked being complimented on doing something well.

  She had been about to congratulate herself on managing a conversation for several minutes without Josh getting angry. Obviously she’d said something to touch him off, but what?

  “Let’s get one thing clear up front,” he said, glaring down at her. “This is a family ranch. I don’t own it all. And I have no intention of sharing it with anyone. Especially someone as flighty as you.”

  Molly stared at him. Was he nuts?

  “Excuse me, did I miss something in the conversation? I don’t want to share this ranch with you. I’m here to work. When I finish my book, I’m going to move back to town and get an apartment of my own and never have to answer to anyone again.”

  “Right.”

  She fumed at his sarcastic tone. Boldly she stepped closer and jutted her chin up at him. “Listen to me, Mr. Hot-Shot Rancher, I’m not making a play for you or any other man. I’m focused on my new job and my goal to write a novel. I’m certainly not making a play for a bossy, arrogant rancher who can’t even keep a housekeeper for longer than a month!”

  “He either did a number on you or you’re trying to do one on me,” Josh drawled.

  “I’m not trying to do anything on you. I’m here to keep house, nothing more.”

  “And write your book,” he added slyly.

  “That, too.”

  “I’ve seen women use their wiles to try to get their way. I’m not susceptible this time around,” he warned.

  Outraged, Molly slammed her fists on her hips and stepped even closer, until she could feel the radiant heat from Josh’s body, until she could smell Josh’s scent.

  “Forget it, cowboy. I’ve had my fill of domineering, bossy, arrogant men. My father was one, my ex-fiancé was one. You would be my last choice, even if I considered getting involved.”

  “Good, just so we understand each other.” He paused a heartbeat, then relaxed a fraction. “I was engaged once myself. To a woman who only wanted the ranch and the perks the money could buy.”

  She blinked, her anger fleeing instantly. Behind the evenly spoken words, Molly recognized the hurt and disillusion he’d die if he knew he’d revealed. No wonder he suspected her. His experience with the opposite sex didn’t appear to be any better than hers.

  “Well, don’t paint me with that brush. I don’t want your ranch, your money or you.”

  Liar.

  Her conscience whispered how much she would like to know him better. See where the sensual pull that played each time she drew near would lead. Clamping down on those thoughts, she forced herself to keep her stance.

  Josh stared at her and wished he could say the same thing. He didn’t trust her any farther than he could throw her, but he wanted her.

  Suddenly every instinct he owned honed in on the slender woman standing so boldly before him. He hadn’t felt like this since he’d discovered Jeannie’s betrayal.

  He didn’t like it. He had no intentions of getting tangled up with this bit of fluff just to ease an itch. Lust he could control. And there was nothing else between them.

  “—with Lance.”

  “What?”

  “I said there’s no need to show me the ranch on the weekend, I’ll go with Lance.”

  “Like hell you will. I’m the boss of the spread, and I don’t want you and Lance mixing it up. If you need to see the ranch, I’ll take you.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want to think I’m making a play for you, would we?”

  She smiled up at him with so much mockery in her look he wanted to wipe the expression off her face. His hands fisted at his sides and he found it almost impossible to remain where he stood.

  “I’d know.”

  Her smile faltered for a split second, then she upped the wattage. “I’m sure you would, cowboy. You probably have women coming on to you all the time. Gets old, does it?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.” Slowly he relaxed his hands, stepped closer, his eyes narrowed with intent.

  She stepped back.

  “Too late, sugar,” Josh muttered as he reached out and slid his hand beneath the silky hair to the nape of her neck. His mouth came down on hers.

  Molly opened hers to shriek a stop, but she was too late, just as he had said. His lips covered hers in a searing kiss.

  Scalding heat swept through her. Pulsating blood pounded, tingling awareness focused on the man holding her for his kiss. His lips moved against hers in an erotic dance that shimmered through every nerve ending. When his tongue made a brief foray into the dark cavern of her mouth, Molly moaned softly in unexpected delight.

  She was greedy, she admitted. She wanted more.

  Moving closer, she was shocked when her body came into contact with his. His other arm encircled her and drew her into the tight embrace against his rock-hard length. His chest was solid against her softness, his legs strong enough to support them both. She put her arms around his back, feeling the h
eat through his shirt, tracing the strong corded muscles.

  On fire, burning up from within, Molly couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hear anything with the blood pounding wildly through her veins. She could only feel.

  It was as good as the books hinted. Better.

  Josh eased back, his hands on her shoulders now, his eyes hooded and watchful. Molly slowly lifted her lids and gazed at him, knowing her feelings must show, unable to summon the strength to hide them.

  “A scene for your book?” he asked huskily.

  Instantly she dropped her hands and turned away, curiously hurt. Had the kiss meant nothing to him? Had she been the only one to feel anything?

  “Maybe,” she replied.

  Damage control, however late, was definitely in order. She raised her head, threw back her shoulders and marched over to the windows to continue cleaning. She hoped passionately that he couldn’t see how weak her knees still felt, how her heart hammered in her chest, how the blood still sang with the memory of his touch. She licked her lips and tasted him. Cravings filled her. She wanted more. And knew any more would be dangerous beyond belief.

  “I’ll apologize if you want,” he said gruffly.

  “Whatever for? A kiss is nothing. You’ve made your position clear and I hope I have, too. We have nothing each other wants and I’ll stay away from you. You stay away from me.” She was proud of her voice. It didn’t shake.

  After several moments of silence, Molly chanced looking over her shoulder. Josh had gone.

  Slumping down in the nearest chair, she lightly rubbed her lips with her fingertips, reliving every second of their kiss. For someone who didn’t like her, he did a credible job of kissing.

  Much to her dismay, Molly wasn’t able to toss off the kiss as she wanted. Its memory resurfaced time and time again as she worked during the afternoon.

  She’d be dusting a table and the next thing she knew she found herself staring off into space, remembering Josh’s touch, remembering how she felt when his lips moved against hers, when his body pressed into hers. It was nothing at all like Marc’s kisses. And nothing as tame as the ones she’d read about in books.

  Shaking her head, she’d return to her task, only to find herself thinking more about the kiss than the work she had to do.