“I’ll never get this book written at this rate,” she complained.
“You can do some more work tomorrow. It’s Sunday. Take the whole day to work on your book. No meals for anyone but yourself.”
She smiled. She wanted her hero to be just like Josh, with his sexy voice, his killer smile and his gentle touch and his concern for the heroine.
“Come on, Molly.” He scooped her up from the chair and carried her from the room.
“I could walk,” she said, encircling his neck with her arms and resting her head against his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she relished the sensation of being carried. No one had ever done that for her before.
“Aren’t I heavy?”
“Yeah, you weigh a ton,” he said, chuckling.
She pulled back at that. “Put me down!”
“So you can fall asleep on your feet?” he asked, beginning to climb the stairs.
“I didn’t sleep very well last night.” She gave up her token struggle and rested her head against his, closing her eyes, burrowing into the warmth of his shoulder.
“And we had a full day today.”
“Mmm.” Full and wonderful.
He pushed open her door and crossed the room to lay her on the bed. Molly kept her eyes closed while Josh pulled off her shoes and pulled a comforter over her.
“See you in the morning,” he said.
She smiled, turned to her side and promptly fell back asleep.
Josh stared down at her for a long moment, struck by the trusting way she slept.
He thought back to Jeannie and how she had calculated every move. At the time he'd thought her carefree and fun, but in retrospect he saw how she had manipulated things to go exactly the way she wanted.
If he hadn’t found her in the arms of that other man, he might have gone through with the wedding.
If he hadn’t heard her admit money was more important than anything, he might have been tempted to listen to her when she tried to explain the passionate embrace he interrupted.
Was Molly capable of such manipulation?
He hadn’t seen anything to suggest it, but she was a woman. It would be a long time before he trusted someone with his heart, if ever. And when the time came, he wanted a woman he could depend on. Someone more like his mother than this flighty daydreaming woman. His mother hadn’t forgotten to dry clothes, she hadn’t burned meals, or prepared insubstantial amounts. And she sure hadn’t gone off into another world when she had work to do.
He hoped Molly’d get started on her book tomorrow. The sooner she finished it and left, the sooner life would settle down again.
Josh left the room without a backward look. The desire he felt around her didn’t diminish. Her kisses were a curious mix of innocence and sensual provocation. Her wide-eyed wonder at the love play between them made him feel like some sort of superhero, yet he knew where that could lead, if he believed it.
She was here temporarily, and he was willing to play while she stayed. But it would end when she left. He wouldn't think that far ahead, but take one day at a time.
Molly woke late the next morning. Knowing it was her one remaining free day for the week, she took her time getting dressed, donning a denim skirt and a pink scooped-neck shirt. She wore sandals instead of her usual tennis shoes. She didn’t plan to go out to the barn and if she wanted to take a walk later, she’d go on the paved driveway.
By the time she ventured downstairs it was drawing close to noon. The house sounded empty. She fixed herself some toast and tea, ate, then wandered around the first floor looking for Josh. He wasn't around. Not that she cared.
She wondered where he had gone. Did he take a day off? Was he out on the range or in the barn? Didn’t matter. She wasn't going to seek him out.
Wandering into the office, she opened the window to enjoy the fresh air while she worked. On her desk lay a thesaurus. She sat down and drew it toward her with a smile on her face. A bookmark stuck up between the pages and she turned to find the word
nice
underlined. She smiled slowly when she saw the bold handwritten notes in the margin.
See stupendous, mind-boggling, glorious, fantastic, phenomenal, extraordinary
. Stunned, she stared at the bold handwriting. Was that the way he saw her kisses, or thought she should see his?
He was right, his kisses had been fantastic. Gazing out the window, she could clearly remember every second of each kiss they’d shared beneath the trees yesterday. Heart-pumping, toe-tingling kisses unlike any she had ever experienced. Her body tingled in response twenty-four hours later. The gentle breeze stirring cooled her heated cheeks. Her eyes closed as she relived their ride. Sighing softly, she opened them. Enough time spent on memories. She had work to do.
She began to type. Could she express on paper the kind of emotions she felt? Express so the world would understand the feelings that clamored for more of his touch, more kisses?
Could words she used capture the beauty of the day, how the sun had warmed the air and ground, how the breeze had skimmed across her cheeks, cooling the heat his touch raised?
Could she put down in black and white the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her when he drew her into his embrace or when his warm gray eyes threatened to swamp her good sense with the desire so evident she could see it with her own eyes closed?
She wanted to. But how could she put into words the wonder that had engulfed her? Staring out the window, her mind saw them together in the shade of the big cottonwoods, Josh’s hands tracing patterns of delight against her back, his mouth demanding a response from hers that she had never before given.
The clock chimed softly. Molly glanced its way, then back to the screen. She’d been there over an hour and not completed a single paragraph. Sighing, she began to type once again, trying to infuse her story with the delights she’d experienced.
At the back of her mind hovered the constant curiosity of where Josh had gone. From the conversation she heard in the kitchen last night, the men weren’t working today. Had Josh ridden out to check something?
Or, the unbidden thought crept in, had he gone to see Gillian?
Restless she took a break and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. As she drank, she noticed the blue and white truck was gone from its usual spot by the barn. Josh must have taken it.
Sighing softly, she put the glass on the counter and wandered out onto the front porch. She wished she knew if he'd gone into town to see that Gillian. How long had he known her? Was she pretty? Was she waiting patiently for Josh to get over his former fiancée’s betrayal, ready to step right up when he wanted to love again?
And why not? He had a perfect right to see whomever he wished. He had made no commitment to her. And Molly wasn’t staying for long.
Yet she found it hard to hold on to the thought. She didn’t like thinking that his wild kisses meant nothing. Though he’d been up-front with her that their affair would be of short duration, lasting only as long as she remained on the ranch, he hadn't said anything about seeing her exclusively.
It was peaceful on the porch. She sat back in a rocker, pushing it back and forth. Occasionally she heard a muffled thump when one of the horses in the corral kicked away a fly.
She could see for miles, endless stretches of green pasture, with the silhouette of the mountaintops to the west.
The steady motion of the rocker soothed jangled nerves. Slowly her mind began another exploration of her feelings around Josh Hart. She remained lost in daydreams for a long time.
Josh turned onto the driveway for the Rafter C in a bad mood. It was getting late and he’d spent the day in Texarkana, visiting his sister and her new husband, Jake. He’d left to get away from Molly, to give her the day free to write on her book. And to give them some time apart.
While physically he might desire her, he didn’t want her getting the wrong idea about a relationship between them. It was strictly a short-term affair.
But he hadn’t counted on thinking about her all day long. The drive over had been bad enough, though he had played the radio loudly trying to drown out her image that popped up tirelessly. But when Brianna cross-examined him on the new housekeeper, he found himself thinking of Molly even more. Fortunately, Jake had headed his wife off from her relentless questioning and for part of the afternoon Josh had put thoughts of Molly aside. Until he headed for home.
When he’d thought of Molly during the day he’d envisioned her working on her book, glad he'd taken off to leave her the time to work spending the entire day at her computer.
He pulled up into the yard near a group of his men leaning on the corral fence, watching as Billy did some trick riding. The stock horses had been moved from the corral, only Billy and his gelding remained, showing off. Molly stood in the midst of the men, laughing at Billy’s antics. And right next to her stood Lance McCord.
At the sound of the truck, Molly turned. Seeing Josh drive in, her heart kicked. She smiled and waved, then turned back to watch Billy lest someone guess how glad she was that Josh was home.
Her heart beat faster as she threw a smile toward Lance. She didn’t want Josh to suspect how much she missed him. Yet the air seemed clearer, the smell of dust and horse and hay stronger. Every sensation sharpened. She heard the door slam behind him and in only seconds he’d joined her by the rail.
“Get much writing done?” he asked laconically, glancing at Lance.
Lance looked over, his eyes narrowed, while Molly nodded.
“A bit.”
“Thought you’d still be at your computer,” Josh continued.
“Nope, finished for now. I’m taking a break.”
His eyes traveled down the length of her, taking in her bare arms and the low neck of her shirt, her short skirt, her long tanned legs, the ridiculous sandals she wore, the pink polish on her toenails.
“Not dressed for hanging around a corral,” he said, his eyes resting on the tempting expanse of her fair skin just above her neckline.
“I think she looks great,” Lance said, smiling at Molly, shifting slightly to close the distance between them.
Josh’s head jerked up and he glared at his foreman. “Her feet are already dirty from the dust.”
Molly looked up at him, then down at her dusty feet. Josh was right, but so what. They were her feet. So she’d have to wash them, big deal.
She turned back to watch Billy, aware of the tension radiating from Josh. She had hoped he would like to see her in a skirt. She’d worn jeans since she arrived.
“They’ll wash. I think she looks great,” Lance said, reaching out to smooth a lock of Molly’s hair around one finger, rubbing it with his thumb.
Josh knocked his hand away, yanking her hair.
“Ow!” Molly turned to glare at him.
The men turned their attention to Josh and Lance, forgetting Billy temporarily. Two of them shuffled back and leaned against the fence. This might prove more entertaining than Billy and his horse.
“Don’t you have something else to do?” Josh asked Lance in a dangerously low voice.
Lance smiled and shook his head. “Nope. This is Sunday, my day off. I’m just enjoying myself.”
Josh glanced around at the faces of the other men. They were attuned to the scene playing out before them and one or two looked confused.
“Come with me.” Josh wrapped his hand around Molly’s bare arm and headed for the house.
“What’s up?” she asked, skipping a step trying to keep up. “Is something wrong?”
Besides her own heart rate that threatened to race out of control. The shimmering waves of sensation that shot through her from his touch were exciting.
“I thought you were going to write today. I left you alone all day so you’d have plenty of time for writing and what do I find when I get back but you’re out there flirting with every man on the place.”
She set her feet and jerked them to a stop, wincing as his hand tightened on her arm.
“Wait a minute, Josh Hart. I wasn’t flirting with anyone! I simply took a break and came outside. I’ve written over a dozen pages today, a good output from me. But I got blurry-eyed at the computer and when I went outside for a walk, Billy sat there bragging about some kind of tricks he could do on his horse. So I went to watch. Just because the others watched, too, hardly counts as flirting!”
“What about the way you’re dressed?”
“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” She glanced down. The pink shirt looked clean, despite leaning against the corral rail. The blue denim skirt had creased across her lap from sitting all day, but there was nothing wrong with it.
“These men work hard all week and on the weekend are ready to let loose. A couple of them have girlfriends, but the rest play the field. And, honey, you look ready to play.”
His forefingers traced the neckline of her shirt, skimming across the soft swells of her breasts like a hot brand.
She slapped his hand away and looked furtively toward the corral. The men were still watching them. Lance's smile could be seen from where she stood.
She looked at Josh, unsure what he was up to.