was in the room. She could feel it in the sudden sensitivity of her skin.
WiUing her hand to steadiness, she set down the pot holder she'd been using and turned toward him. He stood just inside the door—big, dusty, overwhelmingly male. Her heart thumped and it occurred to her vaguely that there was a warning there. It was one thing to decide to have an affair with the man, something else altogether for just the sight of him to make her heart beat faster.
He set his hat on the wooden hook beside the door and turned toward her. Their eyes met and Megan thought she saw a quick flare of awareness in his. Was he remembering the way she'd melted against him last night? The memory made her flush, and she hoped he'd attribute it to the fact that she'd just been leaning over a hot oven.
His eyes raked over her, taking in the robin's egg blue T-shirt and jeans she wore, a practical white chef's apron wrapped around her waist. Not exactly a romantic outfit in which to greet your future lover, Megan thought. And she probably had flour on her face from making the biscuits. A touch of humor glimmered in her eyes. Kel was probably wondering what had made him want to kiss her the night before.
Actually, Kel was on the point of closing the distance between them, dragging Megan into his arms and kissing her senseless, flour-speckled face and all. If Colleen hadn't chosen that moment to enter the kitchen, he might have done just that.
With a quick greeting for his sister and an impersonal nod in Megan's direction, he went upstairs to
shower before dinner. By the time he came down, he had himself well under control. Or so he thought until he walked into the dining room and saw Megan leaning across the table to straighten a fork on the side across from her. The scoop neckline of her T-shirt allowed him to see the upper swell of her breasts and hinted at the shadowy cleft between.
Kel immediately wished he'd taken a colder shower than he had.
He backed out of the room without her seeing him and didn't enter until he heard Gun's voice and knew he wouldn't be alone with Megan. The way he was feeling right now, he didn't quite trust himself not to give in to the urge to ignore the delicious scents wafting from the kitchen and have her for dinner instead of whatever she was cooking.
Kel avoided looking at Megan any more than he had to during dinner. He was starting to resent this strange hold she seemed to have over him. He'd spent far more time thinking about her today than he'd had any business doing. He didn't like the way she haunted his thoughts.
He was a man who prided himself on his self-control, and he resented Megan Roarke's ability to undermine that control. He wanted her—that much he was willing to admit. Hell, he could hardly deny it. Wanting her was all right but letting her dominate his thoughts the way she had been—that was going to have to stop.
If he could stop it.
The taunting voice inside his head only made Kel more determined to prove to himself that he was in
control here, not his suddenly overactive libido. And if that meant keeping his distance from Megan, then so be it.
By the end of her second week working on the Lazy B, Megan was starting to wonder if she'd hallucinated the scene in KeFs study the night he'd asked her to stay on for the summer. She hadn't been quite sure what to expect after the passionate kisses they'd shared but it certainly wasn't that everything would go on just as it had before he kissed her.
She hadn't expected him to pounce—not exactly anyway. And she didn't want to bring their relationship—if and when they had one—out into the open any more than he did. She wasn't sure how Colleen would feel about Megan sleeping with her older brother, but Megan knew it would embarrass her if Colleen were to find out about it. She supposed there were women sophisticated enough to carry off something like that, but she wasn't one of them.
So at first, she'd been grateful for Kel's discretion. But as the days ticked by and he made no effort to seek out even a brief moment of privacy with her, she began to question her memory. She was grateful that he wasn't trying to rush her, but a stolen kiss or two wouldn't be out of line.
But Kel didn't seem to have any interest in kisses-stolen or otherwise. He treated her just as he had before, friendly but a little distant. The perfect employer-to-employee attitude, she thought with some irritation. She might have believed she'd imagined the entire exchange between them if it hadn't been for the
one or two occasions she caught him looking at her and saw that the indifference was gone, replaced by a blazing green heat that burned right through her.
He still wanted her but, for reasons of his own, he was keeping his distance. Megan would have given a great deal to know what those reasons were but she could hardly come right out and ask the man why he hadn't tried to seduce her. Not that he was likely to have to try too hard, she admitted, remembering the way he*d melted her defenses with a touch.
Still, if he expected her to make the first move, Kel Bryan had another think coming.
So Megan's apparent indifference mirrored Kel's own.
He resented the hell out of her casual attitude.
She resented the hell out of his.
And the sexual tension smoldered—imacknowl-edged—between them.
It was left to Colleen to unwittingly end the stalemate created by stubborn pride. Sunday was as close to a day of rest as was possible on a working ranch. There were always chores to be done but on Sunday they were limited to the most basic—such as animals to be cared for—or the least taxing—such as tack to be cleaned or repaired.
Megan suspected that the tradition had its origins less in religion than in necessity since quite a few of the hands made it a point to drive into the nearest town on Saturday night and put as much effort into having a good time as they put into their work the rest of the week. The result was a bunch of grown men walking
Michael's Father S3
very carefully Sunday morning, as if not entirely sure their heads were going to stay in place.
Technically, Megan had Sunday off, as well as one other day a week of her own choosing. Since the nearest town consisted of three bars, two gas stations and a general store that housed an eclectic mix of merchandise, it hardly seemed worth the effort to go there. The two Sundays she'd spent on the Lazy B, M^an had used the time to clean up odds and ends of jobs she hadn't quite managed to finish and to do fancier baking than she took time for during the week.
One thing about cooking for men who spent ten hours a day doing hard, physical labor was that they seemed to burn an amazing number of calories. And nobody seemed to worry much about things hke cholesterol, which meant she could indulge her love of baking and not feel so much as a twinge of guilt.
But on this Sunday, Colleen announced that Megan was not to lift a finger. "You've done nothing but work since you came here," she said.
"That's what I was hired to do," Megan pointed out.
"You weren't hired to be slave labor. You haven't taken a single day off."
"I don't feel overworked."
"Everyone needs time off," Colleen insisted. "Shouldn't Megan take today off?" She looked across the room at her brother, who'd just entered. Megan immediately became terribly interested in the crossword puzzle she'd been toying with.
"I tiiought today was her day off." Megan fdt Kel's eyes on her but she didn't look up.
**It is, but if she stays here, she'll end up working. You know she will."
Kel hadn't paid enough attention to her to have any idea what she did with her time, Megan thought irritably. She didn't have to Uft her eyes from the paper to know that he was still looking at her.
"Can you ride?"
The question had to have been addressed to her but it took Megan a moment to gather her wits enough to respond. She looked at him, feeling her breath catch a little, just as it always did when their eyes met.
**It's been a few years," she said cautiously.
**She could ride Mickey," Colleen suggested enthusiastically. "He's gentle enough for a baby."
"Mickey?" Megan asked.
"As in Mouse." Kel's tone was dry. "Colleen named him," he added with a mock-disgusted look in his sister's direction.
"I was eight," she said defensively. "Besides, he's as gentle as a mouse so it's a good name for him."
"It was the last time Dad or I let her name a horse," Kel told Megan.
"So there's no Minnie?" For the first time in over a week, she felt at ease with him.
"No. But if we hadn't stopped her, I suspect we'd have had a full complement of horses named after cartoon characters."
"Imagine a stalUon named Donald Duck." Megan shook her head sympathetically at Kel's exaggerated shudder.
"Laugh all you want," Colleen said, giving them both an offended look. "But I still think Mickey is the perfect horse for Megan."
Which was how Megan found herself riding away from the ranch house on a bay gelding named Mickey Mouse. Kel was beside her on the big black horse she'd seen him riding that first day. The black's name was Dude, which she assumed referred to his somewhat flashy beauty.
They made a striking pair, she thought, stealing a sideways glance at Kel and the big horse. Two superbly healthy male animals, in the prime of Hfe, arrogantly confident of their place in the world. Kel rode as if he was a part of the horse, his body hardly seeming to move in the saddle. In contrast, Megan felt as if she was bouncing up and down like a loosely filled sack of potatoes.
"Loosen up," Kel said, apparently reading her thoughts. "Slouch down in the saddle a Uttle and let yourself feel the rhythm of the horse."
She did her best to do as he'd instructed and it did seem to help a Uttle. But she still envied him the utter ease with which he sat a horse. In his faded jeans and one of the chambray shirts that seemed to compose a large part of his wardrobe, the gray hat pulled low over his eyes, his hands and knees easily controlling the big horse, he looked as if he'd stepped out of a painting of the old West. All he needed was a duster tied to the back of the saddle and a rifle in its scabbard, maybe a pair of revolvers tied low.
Megan caught his questioning glance and looked away, embarrassed at having been caught fantasizing.
even if he couldn't possibly know what she'd been thinking. She forced herself to concentrate on the view between Mickey's ears. There was plenty to see. Spread out before them was a sweep of land and sky so vast it was almost impossible to take in.
She'd spent all her time since coming to work for Kel either in or near the ranch house, which nestled in the shoulder of low hills that served to soften the view a Uttle. She'd almost forgotten the sheer emptiness of the landscape that surrounded it.
She turned in the saddle to look back. The ranch house was no longer visible. In all that vast expanse of land, there were only the two of them. It had never occurred to her that so much space could be oppressive. Yet it was also exhilarating.
Kel watched Megan, trying to judge her reaction. Not everyone appreciated wide-open sky and empty plains. He'd taken Roxanne out riding not long after they were married. She'd hated every moment of the experience, starting with the Western-style saddle and ending with the barrenness of the land. It made her feel small, she'd complained, hunching her shoulders as if for protection against the emptiness of the land and sky.
Looking back, Kel supposed he should have known then that the marriage was a mistake, but when he took her to the ranch house, she'd coaxed him up to their bedroom and provided a vivid reminder of their one area of compatibility.
He saw Megan turn in the saddle to look in the direction they'd come. He knew the ranch house was out
of sight and that it seemed as if they'd left all signs of civilization behind. She glanced up at the blue arc of sky and hunched her shoulders uneasily. Kel's fingers tightened on Dude's leins in anticipation of Megan's request to turn back.
But after a moment, she straightened her shoulders and he saw her breasts lift as she took a deep breath. She released it slowly and then glanced at him.
**rve read about pioneers who went mad because they couldn't deal with the emptiness of the prairie," she said slowly. *Tor the first time, I think I can understand how they must have felt."
"It can be a bit overwhelming," Kel agreed. He was still prepared to turn around.
"Yes. But it's magnificent, too. And so quiet." She sighed, her eyes going a little dreamy. "I can see why the Indians fought so hard to keep their land. If I had a place like this, I wouldn't want to let it go."
Kel relaxed his hand on the reins and smiled at her, feeling something strangely like pride uncurl inside him. Not that he had any business being proud of Megan Roarke, he reminded himself. Whether she liked the wide-open Wyoming sky or not was a matter of interest but not real concern. Not like it had been with Roxanne. He'd been married to Roxanne and it had mattered that she'd been unable to see the beauty in the land around her.
He wanted Megan as his lover, not his wife, and even if she'd hated the ranch, it wouldn't have mattered. Still, that vague feeling of pride didn't go away.
4> * ♦
They talked easily. Megan had been reading up on Wyoming's history and was fascinated to know that they were right in the middle of Johnson County, site of the notorious Johnson County War. When she heard that his great-grandfather had actually known Nate Champion, who'd posthumously become something of a hero after the war, Mean's excitanent lit up her eyes. Her fascination with the man made Kel glad Champion had been dead for a good hundred years. He thought, ruefully, that he wasn't sure he could have stood up to the competition.
Since Megan had little experience as a rider, Kel had no intention of taking her very far from the ranch house on this first trip. Even a short ride was going to leave her stiff and sore. Of course, if he'd been sure she'd be willing to let him massage the ache from her muscles, he might have been tempted to make it a longer trip.
**We'll stop at the creek," he said, nodding to the band of trees they were approaching. "It's a good place for a picnic. There's plenty of shade."