“The man you told to stay away from her,” Molly clarified.
“Yeah. Only that was before they were married. Obviously he didn’t listen to me.”
“Are they happy?”
“Very. An afternoon around them is all I can take,” Josh said wryly.
He didn’t begrudge his sister her happiness. He just no longer expected the same thing for himself.
She nibbled on her sandwich knowing he had once thought to be happily married by now to Jeannie. No wonder he didn’t want to be around his sister. It must hurt.
She felt it sometimes herself. She'd once thought she'd be married by now. While she sometimes envied other people their happiness, she tried to remain patient. Someday love might come. And if not, at least she had her writing.
“And your brother's married, too, isn’t he?” she asked as the silence grew.
“Yes. To a little bit of a woman who has him wrapped completely around her little finger. He’s crazy about her. Even gave up the rodeo circuit for her once they were married. Though not until he won a belt buckle he's extraordinarily proud of.”
“That’s nice.” Molly smiled. She wished she could find a man to wrap around her little finger. Someone who would want to please her all the time.
“Jase seems to like it.”
“But you wouldn’t?”
“Probably not.”
“Do they visit the ranch a lot? Didn’t you say you all own it jointly?”
“We do. Jase and Shannon come by in the fall. If they attend some of the home football games at the university, they'll come over and stay the rest of the weekend here. Brianna comes most summers for a few weeks. I don’t know her plans for this summer. She and Jake just got married a couple of months ago.”
“Even though they have ownership interest, you really run the place, don’t you?”
“Are you interested in me as a man, Molly, or as the hero for your book?” he asked suddenly.
She almost choked on a bit of tuna. “My book?” Dread and alarm reared up.
“I read it while you were upstairs.”
“You read my book?” She threw the rest of the sandwich on the plate. “You had no business reading my manuscript. It’s a long way from finished and I don’t want anyone reading it until it is.”
“Too late, I read it. I’m not sure I like the hero.”
Chapter Nine
“Isn’t that why you’re writing it, for others to read?” Josh asked.
“Not before it's finished. There's a lot of work to be done on it. This is just a first draft.”
He shrugged. “You left the computer on. I read the display.”
“Next time exercise a little control and stay away from my computer!” Molly bit her lip, unsure if she wanted to know more.
“How did you like it?” she asked, at last. Her first critic. She held her breath waiting for him to reply.
Josh hesitated.
“It’s awful, isn’t it?” she moaned. Darn, she knew it wasn’t ready to submit, but was it so bad he couldn’t find anything positive to say?
“It’s a bit wooden. As if you don’t know how to describe the characters so they show depth. And the scene where he kisses her is bland.”
“I just haven’t reached my stride yet,” she mumbled, disappointed he hadn’t liked what she’d done so far. “And it's only a first draft.”
“Come on.” Josh stood up and held open the screen door.
“Where?” Molly rose and entered the house. His hand at the small of her back guided her down the hall to the office.
Josh snapped on the light and led her to her computer. Taking the plate from her, he put it on his desk. Pressing on her shoulders, he sat her in the chair, reaching across her to flip on her computer.
“Bring up the kiss scene,” he said, drawing another chair closer and sitting beside her.
Her face warm with heat, Molly complied, her eyes scanning the words. Bland and boring and not at all like what she wanted to portray. Not at all like the pictures in her head. Why couldn’t she get it right?
“Now, look this way,” he said.
She turned obediently.
Josh smiled at her and cupped her chin. Lightly brushing his lips across hers, he pulled back and looked at her.
“How was that?”
“Fine.”
“No, how do you feel?”
Her heart pounded as if she had run a race, her chin tingled from his touch, her eyes were dazzled by the sight of him. She used all her willpower to keep her hands gripping the arms of the chair. She wanted to reach out for him, hold him tightly against her and drown in his kisses.
“Breathless?” she asked.
He cocked an eyebrow and smiled. “Write that down.”
“What?”
“Write down the kiss and what you feel.”
He released her chin and sat back, watching her.
Conscious of his gaze, Molly turned to the computer and tried to capture the feelings of that brief touch of his lips against hers and the riot of sensations it caused. Her fingers felt clumsy. She kept hitting the wrong keys, but gradually she tapped out the words that closely mirrored how she felt from his kiss.
“Next one,” Josh said.
“Next one what?” She turned to look over her shoulder.
“Next kiss.” He turned her to face him and lowered his mouth to hers. Gently moving against her lips, he teased her, drawing his tongue along the seam, nipping gently at her lower lip when she opened to him. All too soon he sat back, a satisfied expression gleaming in his eyes.
“Write how you feel.”
Molly stared at the screen unable to think. Slowly her fingers began to type the words that tried to express the heat that simmered in her veins, the yearning for more that filled her being; the delightful awareness, the increased sensitivity being with Josh generated.
Finally the words came to a halt.
“Next one.”
She took a deep breath. Anticipation bubbled through her like fine wine. How many more kisses would there be? If each got more erotic, she'd be so dazed she wouldn’t be able to type. Eagerly she swiveled her chair and gazed up at him.
“Next one,” she confirmed.
He studied her for a long moment. The heat in his eyes ignited her. She watched as his hands came up to slowly thread through her silky hair. When he tilted her head back and took in the length of her neck, her jawline, the answering fire in her eyes, Molly grew impatient. She wanted more. Slowly Josh drew her even closer for his kiss. His breath mingled with hers as he held his lips scant millimeters from hers.
“Josh,” she entreated.
“Anticipation adds spice,” he murmured, touching his tongue to the corner of her mouth.
Molly tried to lean closer, but his hands held her exactly where he wanted her.
“Not yet.”
“Yes,” she whispered, her hands coming up to clasp around his wrist, tugging him closer.
“You always smell like roses. Is it your hair, or your body, or the essence of you?” he asked, skimming hot kisses along her jaw.
She moaned softly and closed her eyes to better savor the exquisite delights that sparkled through her.
“Are you taking note of every feeling so you can put it in your book?” he asked as his lips touched hers.
Before she could reply, he deepened the kiss, opening her mouth and searching the warmth he found with his tongue.
Molly lost track of time and place and self, absorbed by the fiery heat that built from his mouth to hers. Her body ached for his touch. His hands gently kneading her scalp weren’t enough. She wanted to feel him against her, revel in the pleasure her body took from his. To know the differences between them that his hard frame suggested when pressed against her softer one.
“Write about that,” he said, breathing erratically.
Molly shook her head, but it did nothing to clear the spinning sensation. She glanced at the computer screen, then back at Josh.
Half rising, she moved from her chair to his lap and encircled his neck with her arms.
“You’re kidding, right?” she said, trailing kisses along his cheek, feeling the rough abrasion of his day-old whiskers.
“I could no more type a word than I could ride a bronc right now.”
Her mouth moved to his and she delighted when he pulled her tightly against his chest and resumed their kiss.
He kissed her neck, licking the pulse point at its base. Moving one hand to the front, he slowly began to unfasten her buttons.
One hand threaded through his thick hair while the other mimicked his as she began to release the buttons on his shirt.
His mouth claimed hers again and again. When Molly felt the cool night air on her skin, she knew she was losing her shirt. Josh moved to unfasten her bra.
“No.”
She sat up and held her hand across her breasts. Blinking in the light, she stared at him, uncertainty evident in her eyes. His shirt hung halfway off his shoulder, opened to the waist. His bronzed skin shone in the lamplight. And her eyes dropped to gaze on the tantalizing expanse of masculine chest.
“Just this, no more,” he urged, his fingers releasing the fastening and drawing the bra down her arms. Slowly Molly moved her hand and let him toss the scrap of lace and silk across the room. He took her hands and drew them away from her body while he looked at her. Then, so slowly she hardly knew she moved, he drew her to him. Breast to chest, soft to hard, warmth to heat.
“You’re a pretty lady, Molly Forrester,” he whispered in her ear, his hands caressing the strong muscles of her back.
“You are a gorgeous, sexy cowboy, Josh Hart,” she replied, relishing the sensations that poured through her. She felt every inch of him pressed against her, could even feel the pounding of his heart beneath her breast. She tightened her arms, wanting to be even closer, wanting to be a part of him.
“Remember how you feel for your book,” he said.
“I’ll remember.”
But not for the book, for herself. She would never forget how wonderful everything felt. How right she felt in his lap, moving her body against his, learning more of what it meant to be a woman. There was no one like Josh in the world, and she loved it.
Loved him.
For a moment, she caught her breath—stilled like a doe caught in headlights. No wonder she liked his kisses, liked having him touch her. She loved him!
And she wanted more. She wanted to learn all he had to teach her. And show him how much she loved him.
When he deepened the kiss, she responded fully. Imprinting every single nuance to the embrace, she knew she would never forget the night as long as she lived.
When he moved to kiss her shoulder, she smiled, relishing the tingling sensation his mouth made against her skin.
“I love you,” she whispered, her heart so full.
He reacted as if she’d thrown cold water on him. He sat up and gripped her upper arms, pushing her away from him until he could see her clearly.
“What did you say?”
His voice was cool, his eyes narrowed.
Molly stared at him, startled at his response. “I love you,” she faltered.
“Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t confuse sex with love,” he said, his hands biting into her arms.
“I’m not. I think I’ve been falling in love with you since I got here.”
“I don’t believe this. You said you came here to work, not make a play for me.”
“I’m not making a play for you,” she said firmly. “I’m not making any demands on you.”
“The hell you’re not. It starts with words of love, then ends up demanding everything a man has. I told you there was nothing but physical attraction between us. Don’t try to glorify it into some grand love that will last forever. If you can’t handle it, just say so, but don’t wrap it up in pretty words to assuage your conscience.”
He stood up, dumping her on her feet, waiting only until she had her balance before releasing her to pace across the room.
He turned and glared at her. “I'm not buying it.”
“What?” Suddenly conscious of her state of undress, Molly looked around for her shirt. She snatched it up from the floor and shrugged into it, fastening the buttons to gain a modicum of modesty.
Her heart hurt, it pounded so hard.
She felt a bit sick.
Dragging her fingers through her hair to try for some semblance of normalcy, she faced him again. He looked like the Viking warrior she’d first imagined. His hair shone gold in the lamplight. His stance, fists on hips, legs widespread and planted, reminded her even more of the warrior image.
Anger radiated from him. How could three small words have wrought such a change?
“I don’t buy this bit about your love. When I got home tonight, you were flirting with Lance and every other cowboy on the ranch. Now after a few wild kisses, you say you’re in love with me. Not in this lifetime, sweetheart. Maybe you like the idea of me taking care of you for the rest of your life. And finding out our kisses aren’t too hard to handle, you decide to make your play.”
“Stop it! It’s not like that at all! You were the one suggesting we do this—for the book. This started out as nothing but a lesson from you.”
“Right, but at the end of your stay, you leave, no regrets, no strings.”
“I didn’t plan to fall in love with you!”
“But how convenient that you did,” he said sardonically.
“Stop sneering, it isn’t becoming. Forget what I said. You’re right, of course. I'd be a complete idiot to fall in love with you. You don’t have any love to give anyone. You’d rather wallow in the fact Jeannie turned out to be different from what you wanted her to be. You’d rather cast every other woman who comes your way in the same light.”
She tossed her head, wanting to claw at the pain in her chest. It wasn’t fair. She’d waited for love for so long and when she finally found it, he couldn’t love her in return.
“Nice try,” he commented crossing his arms over his chest.
She shrugged, reached for her discarded bra and stuffed it in her pocket.
“Think what you want, you will anyway. But I’m not hanging around.”
Walking across the room proved to be one of the hardest things Molly had ever done. But she didn’t falter. She'd wait for the safety and privacy of her room to fall apart. She would never give this arrogant, snide, dumb cowboy the satisfaction of knowing he had hurt her with his scathing words.
Josh watched her walk out of the room. Heard her footsteps on the stairs, the soft click of her door closing. She didn't even slam it for dramatic effect.
He couldn’t move. Emotions dark and dangerous churned around inside him. How dare she try to convince him she loved him! Did she take him for a fool?
He wanted a drink.
As he left the office, he stopped, cocked his head. What was that sound? Closing his eyes, he clenched his fists. She was crying. Had she confused passion with love? Had she mixed up the intimacies they’d shared with something more?
Did she really believe what she’d said, or was she just another lying schemer, like Jeannie, now distraught because her plan had gone awry?
He stormed into the kitchen, searching for the bourbon he kept in the cabinet near the refrigerator. Pouring himself a tall drink, he leaned against the counter taking another sip and another. Something wound tightly inside him as he sipped the liquor.
He never should have let her stay. He knew she wasn’t right for the job, but they’d been without anyone to do the cooking for so long he’d relented. He should have sent her packing that first day. Or at least after she had made a mess of the first two meals. Or when she’d forgotten to dry his laundry. Or the first time he’d kissed her.
Mistake number two, kissing her. Or was it offering to help with her book? Had he truly thought they could enjoy themselves and then walk away unscathed?
Ten minutes ago he'd been ready to make love to
her. He still wanted to. He could feel the touch of her satiny skin linger on his fingers. His lips wanted to capture hers again and kiss her all night long.
He took another drink. Glanced at the clock. Too early to go to bed. Maybe he'd drink himself silly instead.
Maybe he couldn’t blame her for thinking she was falling in love. She'd confused passion and lust with something more. He’d keep their relationship strictly business from now on.
And first thing in the morning he'd call another employment agency.
The sooner Molly was gone, the sooner his life could get back to normal.
Satisfied with his plan, Josh drained the glass, rinsed it out and went back to the office to get his shirt. It had been a day he didn’t want to repeat anytime soon.
Going upstairs some time later, Josh paused a moment by Molly's door, straining to hear anything. There was only silence. He wanted to knock and make sure she was all right. But hesitated. Would she misconstrue that gesture?
Probably.
He continued down the hall to his own room and closed the door, trying to close out the memory of her soft words of love.
Molly cooked a huge batch of scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast the next morning. She had toast popping every couple of minutes and the orange juice had been poured at each place.
Furious that she’d given in to tears last night, she was extremely conscious of her swollen eyes. She wanted to have everything ready before anyone came in. She’d leave it all on the table and escape until they’d finished eating.
She'd tried washing her face with cold water, but the evidence of her crying was blatant.
With a nervous eye on the clock, she willed the eggs to cook faster. She only had a few more minutes before Jack and Billy and the others would troop in. Before Josh would come from the hall.
He was the primary one she wanted to avoid.
She felt sick with embarrassment at her naive confession last night. How dumb did he think her? No, he didn’t think she was dumb—more manipulative and money-hungry and scheming.
She stirred the bubbling eggs. Buttering another batch of toast, she slipped four more slices of bread into the toaster. Coffee brewed in the big urn. A quick glance around assured her she had everything ready. Once the eggs were done—
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