Boom. There it was.
The confirmation of mutual attraction. She wasn’t fooling anyone with her boundaries. Chemistry between them was an undeniable truth.
She didn’t have to step closer to steal a kiss. The knowledge that they both wanted one hung there in the air so tangibly she could almost feel his mouth on hers. Her body hummed with want until her breasts tingled again; a need too long denied gathered at her core.
The lure between them was potent.
So much so, it drew her feet—drew her—closer to him.
Four
He wasn’t a monk by a long shot, but Marshall couldn’t remember when he’d ached this much for just a kiss. Tally stood a simple arm’s reach away, beside him at the kitchen table. Close enough to touch, to hold, to haul against him for what he knew would be a kiss to remember.
If she weren’t his employee, he wouldn’t hesitate to grip her shoulders and draw her to his chest. He didn’t need the actual kiss to know that their attraction was combustible.
Maybe if he put the feelings on hold until after she finished working for him and his cast was off...
Except this giving, genuine woman who rocked sick babies in her spare time... She was dangerous. She was the sort who could crawl under a man’s skin and into his thoughts. He couldn’t forget his need for control of himself because of his history with alcohol. He was used to attractions he could manage, and this felt deeper. Like something that could rattle the control he needed to maintain now more than ever.
He skimmed his fingers along the top of her hand gripping the chair. She bit her bottom lip, swaying closer.
“Tally,” he said, his thumb stroking once, twice before he squeezed her hand and pulled back. “Thank you for your hard work today. It’s tough for me to admit, but the extra help will be welcome with the holidays.”
Her shoulders braced, and she became professional again. “Of course. That’s what I’m here for. Thank you again for the time off to go to the hospital today. I’m going to fold laundry before turning in for the night.”
Unable to tear his eyes away from her, he watched Tally walk away. The sweet curve of her hips held his gaze and made him ache with thoughts of taking her up to his bed. Thoughts of exploring her body and discovering what made her sigh with pleasure.
But if he intended to keep his hard-won self-respect—and he did—he needed to keep his hands to himself. He walked a fine line these days and needed to keep it that way. Tougher to do on some days than others. And today was one of the toughest. Marshall rubbed along his cast over his aching arm.
His mouth watered for a taste of Tally as much as it watered for a drink. An out-of-control feeling he couldn’t risk.
No matter how much he wanted her, if he didn’t hold on to his sobriety, his life would be worthless.
* * *
The next morning, Tally stifled a yawn behind her wrist as she stepped into the storage room, her eyes gritty. But she wanted to get an early start cataloging the Christmas decorations and discussing with Marshall what he wanted where.
She was finding it tougher than she’d expected to sleep under the same roof as her boss. The thwarted kiss had given her such dreams through the night—awake and asleep, her body ached with unfulfilled desire. He wasn’t the kind of man one forgot easily.
And spending the day discussing holiday festivities wasn’t going to help her rest any better, with the scent of him imprinting itself in her memory.
He was sexy and thoughtful and more than a little mysterious. Although she had secrets of her own to keep, and serious issues to put to rest.
Though Marshall’s eyes were usually unreadable, holding a sultry mystery, his storage room provided a surefire way to get to know the man behind the smolder. High windows allowed bright white sunlight to settle on the shelves. Tally peered into the various containers, taking a mental inventory of his stockpile of supplies. It looked like he needed more fishing gear, judging by the depleted tackle box. Tally would make sure she ordered that—as a part of her job, of course.
She could best serve the house when she had a sense of how things were stored. As silly as it seemed, Tally could tell a lot about a person from their methods of organization and storage. This always seemed like a backdoor entrance into the minds of her clients. Once she understood the patterns and system of a particular house, she became more efficient. Learned what was most valuable.
And she couldn’t deny, the need for that knowledge was especially intense around this man. He intrigued her, and that was dangerous. He was the last person she should get involved with. Perhaps she was seeking to learn more about him to find reasons not to like him. That would certainly be helpful.
She hauled her attention off the man and back to the task at hand. If she intended to keep this job, she needed to do her job.
Today’s excursion into the storage room had a specific purpose—the transformation of the house into a winter wonderland. To make this place enchanting, Tally needed to see the decorations.
Reading from an inventory list could only spark her imagination so much. She’d always been the visual sort.
A green bin with a clear lid beckoned her; maybe it was the way the light splintered over it. Tally glanced into the box. Christmas ornaments and decorations were in neat arrangement. She looked at the row of green boxes with clear lids, all of them full of Christmas decorations. Pieces of Marshall’s past.
More than a little curious, she pulled the first box off the shelf. Opening the lid, she gently touched the carefully arranged decorations, so much more orderly than the hodgepodge storage from her childhood. But she’d treasured those all the same, looking forward to every year when her mother would add another fairy-tale ornament to her collection.
Feet shuffled behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder made the breath catch in her throat as her so-very-sexy boss wandered into the room.
An easy grin passed over his lips, sparking those bright eyes to life and making Tally’s heart pound as her body ached to be closer to his. He closed the distance between them, leaning over the box to finger a reindeer ornament. Spice and musk filled her nostrils as she breathed in, all too aware of the inches between them.
Sleep wasn’t going to be any easier tonight.
He lifted the ornament out of the box. “We’re an outdoors kind of family—camping, riding, kayaking, fishing. Even in the winter. And the winter’s amazing because there are even more things to do, like skiing and ice-skating.”
He shot a glance to his cast, annoyance flaring in the way his jaw flexed.
Picking up a horse-and-cowboy ornament, she nodded at his healing arm. “Patience. You won’t be in that cast forever.”
“I’m counting the days until it’s off.”
She shot him a grin, looking over at him through her lashes. “That eager to be rid of me, are you?”
His hand returned to the box. She couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers lingered on an elaborate ornament, a kayak sporting a father and a son with fishing reels. The ornament appeared smaller in his broad palm as he examined it for a moment before he spoke again. “You’ve proven to be quite indispensable around here already. As you’ve noted before, this is a big place that hasn’t been getting the proper attention.”
“Is that a permanent job offer?”
And if it was, why did that possibility unsettle her?
His eyebrow arched, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Is that an acceptance?”
Even if she could take his offer seriously, she couldn’t imagine herself staying here and remaining just an employee. The chemistry was too strong.
She was better off holding firm to her plan for short-term employment in hopes of finding long-term peace. “You’re just speaking out of holiday generosity. Besides, your stepmother hired me.”
He slid a bin from the bottom shelf and
pulled off the lid.
She smiled her thanks and sat on the floor beside it, looking at the hand-carved wood nativity scene. She tugged her phone from her jeans pocket and pulled up a Christmas playlist. Instrumental classics with a jazz twist softly filled the room.
Creating an unmistakable intimacy.
She was careful to keep an arm’s length between them. She picked up the cradle, considering where she’d put this beautiful piece. Perhaps by the mantel? Above the stockings.
It was too easy to imagine what it would be like to decorate for a family—for real.
“What were Christmases like for you growing up?” she found herself asking in spite of her better judgment.
“Noisy. Busy. Much like this one will be here. We lived here then.” He peeled back another lid, a whiff of cinnamon wafting free from leftover potpourri. “Dad believed in bringing us up with down-to-earth values.”
“Does everyone usually meet here?” Would they be comparing what she put together with Christmases past?
He looked down, his thumb rubbing over the kayak ornament. “We grew up here. Once Dad built the new place, I opted to keep this place going, expanding the stables with a horseback riding business and stud farm.”
“And even though this is your home, they’re using it as a staging ground for the bachelor auction.”
And he would no doubt be a main attraction. She clenched the plastic bin, holding back the urge to trace the line of his bristly jaw.
He rolled his eyes, a defeated sigh huffing free. “The bachelor auction wasn’t my idea. But I’m just doing my part to support the family business.”
“You got guilted,” she guessed.
“Pretty much,” he confirmed with a wry smile. “It’ll be good to have you here to help. Although of course you should have Christmas Eve and Christmas off to spend with your own family.”
His words chilled the heat stinging through her, bringing thoughts of her father. Of how her first Christmas after his death she’d stayed in a bad relationship rather than be alone. Of her child celebrating Christmas without her.
“I don’t have family to visit. All the more reason I’m perfect for this job. I can see you through the holidays until you have full use of your arm.”
“No family at all. I’m so sorry.” He squeezed her shoulder lightly before sitting on the floor beside her.
Her breath hitched, and it took her a moment to gather her thoughts enough to reply.
“That’s another reason why I work holidays. It keeps me busy, and also makes it possible for other workers to be with their relatives.”
Did he know their legs were brushing? The heat of him breathed through denim, sending a tingle of awareness through her. This was much easier without his “help.”
“You’re welcome to join us. I don’t expect you to work on Christmas Day. We’re not helpless. Everyone will have their dish to make, and we’re expected to pick up after ourselves. You can be a part of the festivities. What’s your signature Christmas dish?”
What he described sounded...perfect. Normal. And not hers. “I don’t want to be your pity case.”
His gaze shifted off the decorations and slammed into hers, the air crackling between them. Instrumental music filled the silence, the room small and intimate, the world so very far away right now.
“Trust me, when I look at you—” his eyes flamed with a molten warmth “—pity is the last thing on my mind.”
That heat flowed through her as she searched for words other than how much she wanted him. “Marshall—”
He held up a hand, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have said that. I think the holiday’s messing with my head. Christmases aren’t the same these days.”
“Change is inevitable. You’re all adults now, moving forward with your own lives.”
“It’s more than that. My mother and one of my sisters died in a plane crash. Holidays tend to bring reminders.”
And just that fast, the desire in her cooled with the mention of why she’d come here in the first place, to find peace over her father’s suicide. Except she wasn’t the only one who’d been hurt. Would knowing about her father make things worse for them? Was her search for peace a risk to them if they discovered her reason for being here?
She would have to sift through all of that later. Right now, she could see only the man in front of her, a man in pain.
Touching him for comfort didn’t seem wise for either of them, so she opted for silence, encouraging him to keep talking while she listened. Having a person to unload on was a gift she didn’t take for granted. The loneliness after her father’s suicide had been deafening. Her father hadn’t been able to bear the aftermath of the plane crash that had taken the lives of Marshall’s mother and sister.
How had Marshall been able to bear those losses?
Marshall continued, setting down the kayak ornament and picking up a mare-and-foal decoration made from jade. His fingers wrapped around it, white-knuckled. “Not too long after they passed, my sister Naomi got cancer. Our focus turned to surviving.”
This room full of holiday memories suddenly felt so very sad and overflowing with pain. While Naomi had been struggling for her life, Tally’s father had slid deeper into drinking until finally...she’d lost him for good.
Her voice rasped with all the unspoken hurt. “I’m sorry for all your family’s been through.”
“Naomi and Breanna were twins, so near to my age, sometimes people thought I was the twin, or that we were triplets.”
“You had a close relationship.” She’d read so much about his family, but there were nuances the news articles didn’t cover.
“Yes, we all were, actually.”
“Were close?”
“Well, we all stayed in the area, but things were never the same.” He put back the ornament and swiped a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean for this to become about me. It’s Christmas. We’re here. There’s a party to throw to kick off the family’s charity foundation. That’s what matters.”
She thought about steering him back to talk of his relatives in the hopes of learning something about the accident that could give her the answers, the closure, she sought, but his face was closed off. Shielding grief.
And if she pushed too hard, he could well shut down to her permanently.
Tally searched for the right way to strike the lighter tone he seemed to seek. “Even though that party means you have to be a part of the bachelor auction?”
“Even though.” He cricked his neck from side to side and opened another bin of decorations. “What about your family Christmas traditions?”
The last thing she wanted was to discuss her family’s tense holidays, with her father drinking his way through the season, growing more morose by the ounce as he ruminated about the crash. So she said simply, “My mother and I had a tradition where we picked out a fairy-tale ornament every year. I still have the mermaid one as a charm on my key chain.” Just thinking about her parents made her throat clog. She needed to steer the conversation away from her past, fast. “You didn’t actually tell me about your Christmases growing up. You just talked about winter overall.”
“Isn’t Alaska in somewhat of a perpetual state of Christmas once the snow falls? It is home to the town of North Pole, Alaska.”
“I can see your big family making a trip there.” She leaned back against the shelves, unable to resist the lure of his deep voice.
“You guess well. We made a pilgrimage there every year. Dad said he would take us as long as there was one of us who believed in Santa Claus.”
“Your brother Aiden is quite a bit younger than you are, isn’t he?” She rushed to confess, “I read up a little on your family tree before taking the job. Just what could be found through Google, mind you. I only wanted to be prepared.”
That was better to admit than having scoured
the internet for information on his family out of a sense of guilt over what her father caused because he’d had a few too many drinks on the job.
“You’re a professional, I can see that.” He crossed his hands over his chest. “And back to Aiden... He pretended to believe until he was ten. He did an excellent job fooling our father.”
“That’s really sweet.” She soaked in the light streaming through a high window, catching on the waves in his dark hair.
“Don’t underestimate my little brother. He was charging my sister Delaney money to keep up his pretense.”
“Why would she do that?”
He studied the moose ornament in his hand. “She said it made her feel closer to our sister and mother.”
“Traditions have a way of keeping our loved ones alive.” She thought of how much comfort she took from a simple ornament on her key chain. “I’m sorry you’ve lost so much.”
He angled closer, placing the ornament back in the storage bin. “As have you.”
If she breathed deeply, her chest would brush his, and that prospect made her tingle all over. She swallowed hard and forced words out. “Thank you.”
“I can see the loneliness in your eyes.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.
“That’s not something many men would admit.” Was that breathy voice hers?
His hand fell away and he moved back, giving them both the boss/employee distance again. “Don’t give me too much credit for sensitivity. It comes from reading horses.”
He paused, his eyebrows pinching together before he lifted his cast arm. “Although maybe I should rethink my ability to read people given my rookie mistake with a horse.”
“I suspect it could happen to anyone. And as sorry as I am that you’ve been injured, I’m glad to have the chance at this job.”
“This job shouldn’t steal your whole Christmas season, though.” He angled closer. “You should join in our plans.”
“Um, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
“It’s an excellent idea. You deserve to have some fun.” He straightened. “As a matter of fact, why don’t you join us this Friday when we go see The Nutcracker? We can grab dinner beforehand. It’ll be a low-key way for you to meet the family in person before they all start piling in.”
The Rancher's Seduction Page 5