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—
“Good morning.” Josh’s low voice came from the doorway.
“Good morning,” she replied, her gaze firmly on the pan. She certainly wasn’t going to run away just because he showed up.
She heard his step as he crossed to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee. He didn’t move away, but she refused to glance at him. She concentrated on the eggs, they were almost finished. She strained to hear any sound from the yard, but the men still hadn’t started for the house.
“Molly, about last night—”
“Excuse me, I need that platter.” She carried the heavy pan over to the platter she'd warmed. Scraping the eggs onto it, she placed it in the center of the table and risked a glance at the clock. The toaster popped up and she buttered the slices, adding them to the stack she had kept warm in the oven. Outside, she could hear the murmur of voices.
“Molly,” Josh said.
She put the toast on the table, checked that everything was there, then scooted around Josh and headed for the hallway.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve eaten,” she lied, hurrying to escape before he could stop her.
She almost ran to her room, closing the door and leaning against it.
There, she’d done it. The first hurdle, their first meeting after last night. She hadn’t handled it as calmly as she would have liked, but it was the best she could do.
The knock came suddenly and unexpected.
“Open the door, Molly.”
“Go away.” She pushed away and crossed to the window. What did he want from her, blood?
Josh turned the knob and pushed the door open, hesitating in the opening.
“Molly, I want to talk to you.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. Go eat your breakfast.”
“Did you really eat?”
“I’ll get something later. You better get it now, while it’s hot,” she said, fiddling with the curtain.
She heard his steps cross her room and tensed. She was not surprised when he put his hand on her shoulder and gently turned her around. His finger beneath her chin raised it until she looked at him.
It hurt. She loved him, had just discovered it, and he didn’t believe her. He thought she thought like Jeannie, wanting him for his money.
“I’m sorry for the tears,” Josh said softly.
“Josh, if you have something to say, say it, then get out. I don’t need any false sympathy,” she said, anger starting to build. So she made a fool of herself. Only her pride was really damaged. She didn’t regret loving him, only that she had voiced her feelings.
“Last night things got out of hand. We were supposed to be doing research for your book.”
She nodded. What a joke that turned out to be. Her book was the farthest thing from her mind right now.
She wished he would stop touching her. She couldn’t think when he touched her.
“So maybe feelings got exaggerated,” he continued.
She nodded.
Just leave.
He sighed. “I’m not making things any better, am I?”
She shook her head.
“Come down to breakfast.”
“No. I’ll eat when you go out to work.” She stepped back, breaking contact, able to breathe again.
Josh started to say something, thought better of it and turned to leave.
Molly followed his progress from the sound of his steps. Taking a deep breath, she turned to gaze out the window. Even now she hoped he would say something to show he wasn’t totally indifferent to her.
And he hadn’t.
As soon as the men left, she’d call the agency and ask Mrs. Montgomery to send a replacement as soon as she found one.
It was after nine by the time Josh finally left the house. Molly was starving. She’d been up most of the night, and only nibbled a couple pieces of bacon while she’d prepared breakfast. She went to the kitchen, stacked the dirty dishes and ran water in the sink.
Quickly she prepared herself a small omelet. But once it sat on her plate, she toyed with the food.
She wished she could turn the clock back to yesterday, do things differently.
For one thing, she would never have admitted falling in love. And knowing now what she should have known then, she would never have permitted Josh to kiss her.
How had she ever thought she would be able to walk away unscathed after such mind-boggling kisses? After the first one she should have run far and fast.
Once the kitchen was straight, she went to the office to call Mrs. Montgomery.
“Hello, dear. Are you calling about a new position?” Mrs. Montgomery asked once Molly had identified herself.
“Yes, I guess I am. Also, I wanted you to look for another housekeeper for the Rafter C.”
“Mr. Hart already called that order in earlier this morning. I’m searching, but as I told you when I referred you to the place, he’s not an easy man to please. I was surprised he said you could stay until a replacement could be found.”
Josh had already called to have her replaced. The knowledge pierced her.
She tried to keep her voice level, all the while wanting to slam down the receiver and scream in hurt and disappointment.
He couldn’t wait for her to write her book and leave, he had taken steps to find her replacement as soon as possible.
“... anything earlier, do you still wish to leave before I find a replacement for the ranch?” Mrs. Montgomery said.
“What? Yes, I want to leave if you find anything else for me.”
She refused stay a day longer than she needed to.
But until something else turned up, she'd have to remain. She needed the money. And a place to stay.
“Very well, Miss Forrester, I’ll call if I find anything suitable.”
Molly had to be satisfied with that. She knew Mrs. Montgomery didn’t think highly of her work skills. And the woman was right. But how could she show her she could do a job competently with her track record?
Turning to her computer, she sat down to work. She wasn’t going to worry about doing the job at the Rafter C to Josh’s exacting standards. He’d already made his decision. He didn’t want her here. He could have at least let her be the one to leave.
Reading about the characters she had conceived, she soon lost sight of the problems that plagued her. She had to get them going so she could finish the book and send it off.
When the phone rang, Molly glanced up. It was time to take a break, she’d been at it all morning. Glancing at the clock, she froze. Past time to prepare lunch. She saved her work and reached for the phone.
Molly flew into the kitchen a few minutes later. It was almost time for the men to come in and she hadn’t started lunch. The call from Josh’s sister had taken far longer than she had expected.
She scrambled around to cut the ham and roast beef, slather mayonnaise on the bread. She heard the horses and the voices. Hurrying, she made a dozen and started over. She could fix the second round while they ate the first. In seconds she had enough to start and smiled brightly when they began filtering in.
“Missed you at breakfast,” Billy said easily, scanning her up and down as he liked to do to tease.
“I ate early. I’ll have more sandwiches ready in only a few minutes. Help yourselves to the tea and coffee.” She turned back to the counter, began the process all over again.