If Having Eve Around Would Make Things Better, He Could Handle His Feelings—Couldn’t He?

As for his unfortunate physical attraction to her…big deal. It wasn’t his way to let his feelings cloud his judgment, or his desires dictate his actions. And he certainly wasn’t a stranger to deprivation. He’d lived most of his life without the sort of things—such as a home or family or even a close companion—that other people took for granted. He could handle himself.

As quickly as that, his mind was made up. For Lissy’s sake, he’d do it. He’d hire Eve to be her nanny.

And to hell with his gut, which was already warning him that Ms. Chandler was going to be nothing but trouble.

And that he was making a big mistake.

Dear Reader,

Silhouette is celebrating its 20th anniversary throughout 2000! So, to usher in the first summer of the millennium, why not indulge yourself with six powerful, passionate, provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire?

Jackie Merritt returns to Desire with a MAN OF THE MONTH who’s Tough To Tame. Enjoy the sparks that fly between a rugged ranch manager and the feisty lady who turns his world upside down! Another wonderful romance from RITA Award winner Caroline Cross is in store for you this month with The Rancher and the Nanny, in which a rags-to-riches hero learns trust and love from the riches-to-rags woman who cares for his secret child.

Watch for Meagan McKinney’s The Cowboy Meets His Match—an octogenarian matchmaker sets up an ice-princess heiress with a virile rodeo star. The Desire theme promotion THE BABY BANK, about sperm-bank client heroines who find love unexpectedly, concludes with Susan Crosby’s The Baby Gift. Wonderful newcomer Sheri WhiteFeather offers another irresistible Native American hero with Cheyenne Dad. And Kate Little’s hero reunites with his lost love in a marriage of convenience to save her from financial ruin in The Determined Groom.

So come join in the celebration and start your summer off on the supersensual side—by reading all six of these tantalizing Desire books!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

The Rancher and the Nanny
Caroline Cross

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CAROLINE CROSS

always loved to read, but it wasn’t until she discovered the romance genre that she felt compelled to write, fascinated by the chance to explore the positive power of love in people’s lives. Winner of the prestigious Romance Writers of America’s RITA Award for Best Short Contemporary, she’s also been thrilled to win the Romantic Times Magazine Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Desire, as well as a W.I.S.H. Award. She grew up in central Washington State, attended the University of Puget Sound and now lives outside of Seattle, where she tries to work at home despite the chaos created by two telephone-addicted teenage daughters and a husband with a fondness for home-improvement projects. The Rancher and the Nanny marks her tenth book for Silhouette. Caroline would love to hear from her readers. She can be reached at P.O. Box 5845, Bellevue, Washington, 98006.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

One

The shiny black pickup rocketed down the Bar M’s gravel drive, raising a plume of dust in its wake.

Poised before the ranch house’s back door, Eve Chandler turned as the vehicle swept past. Her stomach did a quick somersault at the sight of the big, dark-haired man behind the wheel.

It had been eight years since she last saw John MacLaren, but for an instant time seemed to melt away. All of a sudden she was seventeen again, and the way she’d felt whenever she was around him—hot, bothered, filled with yearnings that both enthralled and embarrassed her—came rushing back.

She shivered and took a step toward the stairs as if to flee, only to freeze a second later as her common sense kicked in.

Knock it off, Eve. You’re no longer an inexperienced teenager, remember? You’re twenty-five years old, the same age John was all those years ago. At least he doesn’t have a clue how you felt back then—you made sure of that. Think how much harder this would be if he had.

The stark reminder of why she was here crashed over her like a breaker of icy water. And though she stubbornly refused to give in to the rising tide of panic that had been building inside her the past few weeks, she couldn’t deny the irony of the situation. If someone had tried to tell her six months ago that she, the privileged granddaughter of Lander County’s biggest rancher, would soon be forced to come begging favors from the sexy loner who once worked in the Chandler stables, she never would have believed it.

Yet here she was.

Thirty feet away, John pulled in beside the small red car she’d borrowed for the drive over. He switched off the pickup’s engine.

She could hear her heart pounding in the ensuing silence. Determined not to let on, she deliberately struck a casual pose as he climbed out of the cab and shut the truck door. He began to walk in her direction, his long legs eating up the distance as he slowly yanked off his leather work gloves.

If he was surprised to see her, it didn’t show.

He stopped at the foot of the stairs and inclined his head a scant inch. “Eve.”

Taking a firm grip on her unruly emotions, she summoned her most confident smile. “Hello, John.”

There was a distinct silence as they regarded each other.

Around them, the September day was much like any other. A pale yellow sun hung high in the vast blue Montana sky. The temperature hovered in the midfifties, while the summer-seared grass that covered the surrounding range waved gently beneath a light but persistent breeze.

Eve paid no attention. Her focus was completely claimed by the tall man standing before her. Despite her little pep talk, the fluttery feeling in her stomach got worse as he slowly rocked back on his heels and gave her an unhurried once-over. His gaze touched on her sunny blond hair, then raked her ice-blue cashmere sweater, gray wool crepe slacks and Italian leather shoes.

She’d chosen the expensive outfit deliberately. At the time, she’d told herself she merely wanted to look her best. Now, she realized that on some level she’d also hoped it would give her an edge, acting as a subtle reminder of their respective pasts. In the half second before his eyes hooded over, however, she caught a glimpse of something in their depths that seemed to be as much cool disdain as grudging appreciation.

Stung, she lifted her chin and studied him in turn. She had to concede the years had been good to him in ways that had nothing to do with his newfound wealth. He might be dressed in scuffed cowboy boots, jeans whitened at the hips and thighs, a faded black T-shirt and a weathered Stetson, but nobody would ever mistake him for a simple ranch hand.

Time had added muscle to his lean six-foot three-inch frame and character to the chiseled angles of his face. What’s more, while he’d always possessed more than his share of virility, now he also radiated an air of leashed power. It was easy to see why women from sixteen to sixty turned to watch when he walked past. From the determined angle of his square jaw, to the compelling bite of his laser blue eyes and the deliberate set of his broad shoulders, he was all man.

The realization that she found him even more attractive now than she had when she was seventeen set off an alarm deep inside her.

“I was sorry to hear about Max,” he said abruptly.

She jerked her gaze to his, heat rising in her cheeks as their eyes met. Horrified he might guess what she’d been thinking, she did her best to look cool and contained. “I received your card. Thank you.”

He shrugged, the simple motion seriously straining the seams of his T-shirt. “He was a good man.”

Off balance, and unable to think about the unexpected loss of her grandfather without a piercing sense of grief, she said merely, “Yes, he was.”

“Rumor has it you’re selling the Rocking C to some big Texas cattle consortium.”

“That’s true, I am. The deal will be final in just a few days.”

He crossed his arms. “You sure didn’t waste any time unloading the place, did you?”

Eve stared at his hard, handsome face, taken aback by his obvious disapproval even as she realized he’d just given her the perfect opening. All she had to do was tell the truth—that if she hadn’t sold out to the Texans, she would have lost the ranch either to the bank or the IRS—and he’d know the gravity of her financial situation.

Yet she couldn’t—she wouldn’t—do it. Word of the disastrous investments her grandfather had made the last year of his life would no doubt eventually surface, since the Lander County ranching community was surprisingly tight-knit. But it wouldn’t come from her. Just as Max Chandler had protected her in life, Eve would protect him in death. Because she’d loved him. And because it was the very least that she owed him.

“I guess that means you’ll be taking off pretty soon,” John said in the face of her silence. “Back to Paris or New York or—where is it you’ve been living lately?”

“London,” she supplied automatically, trying to decide just how she was going to broach the reason for her visit.

She needn’t have worried. In his direct, no-nonsense way, John took care of the problem for her. “So, you going to tell me what you’re doing here or not?”

“Yes, of course. I was hoping we could talk. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

He took a cursory glance at his wristwatch, then shocked her by shaking his head. “Sorry. I’ve got a prior commitment. We’ll have to do it another time.”

“But this won’t wait!”

He shrugged, clearly unmoved. “It’ll have to. I’ve got less than fifteen minutes before I have to be somewhere.”

Struggling for composure, she turned to keep him in view as he strode up the stairs and brushed past her, trailing the scent of sunshine, horses and hard work in his wake. “Please, John,” she said, swallowing her pride. “I promise it won’t take long.”

His hand froze on the doorknob. He turned, obvious reluctance warring with curiosity—and something else she couldn’t define—in his eyes. “All right,” he said finally. “I guess if you don’t mind talking while I get washed up, I can spare you a few minutes.” Pushing open the inner door, he disappeared inside.

She stared after him, feeling both relieved and annoyed, trying to convince herself that she shouldn’t read too much into his being less than friendly. After all, he was simply treating her the way she’d treated him when they were younger.

And just like that, despite her every intention not to revisit the past, the memory of their first meeting came rushing back.

Once again it was a still summer morning. The air smelled clean and sweet, redolent with the scents of sunshine, hay and the bark chips beneath her feet as she stood in the doorway of one of the Rocking C’s roomy box stalls, stroking the warm, satiny neck of Candy Stripes, her quarter horse mare.

The two had just returned from a glorious sunrise ride and Eve vividly remembered how she’d felt at that moment: happy, gloriously alive and totally pleased with her life.

But then, why shouldn’t she be? Just seventeen, she was cherished and indulged at home and popular at school, where she was both a cheerleader and an honor student. It wasn’t surprising she’d believed the world was hers to order.

And then she’d stepped blithely into the corridor, directly into the path of a big, dark-haired stranger—and everything had changed.

He swore as she smacked into the solid wall of his chest. Yet somehow he still managed to swing the hundred-pound sack of grain he had balanced on one broad shoulder to the ground at the same time he reached out to steady her.

Startled, she’d looked up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. And as she took in the rest of his features—the strong cheekbones, the blade-straight nose, the chiseled lips, the silky dark hair tumbling over his brow—something unprecedented happened to her.

Heat pooled between her thighs. Her nipples contracted into stiff, aching points. The starch drained from her knees, and she couldn’t seem to remember how to breathe.

For one mad moment she wanted nothing more than to step closer, press her body against his boldly masculine one, bury her face against the pulse beating in the strong column of his throat.

She wanted to touch him and taste him… everywhere. And she wanted it so badly she ached with it.

The discovery shocked her. Confused, frightened, alarmed, she took a hasty step back, jerking away from the steely strength of his warm, calloused hand gripping her arm. “Who are you?” she demanded.

He didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he looked her over, taking note of the way she was rubbing her fingers over the spot where his hand had been. His mouth compressed slightly, but when his gaze met hers, it was coolly polite—and nothing more. “John MacLaren.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Working.”

It was bad enough that her body was still throbbing, her throat dry, her heart pounding. But even worse, he seemed completely unaffected. She lifted her chin. “Since when?”

“Since I was hired yesterday. And if you don’t mind my asking—” he shifted his weight onto one hip in a way she found both arrogant and enticing “—just who are you to be asking?”

She drew herself up a little straighter. “Eve Chandler. My grandfather owns this place.”

“Huh.”

He sounded completely unimpressed, and panicked by the storm of unfamiliar emotions roaring through her, she snapped, “And if you want to keep your job, I’d suggest you watch where you’re going from now on.”

He reached over and carelessly hefted the sack of grain onto his shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind.” With that, he’d strode away.

Eve stared after him. At any other time in her life she would have been mortified by her rude behavior. But not at that moment. Not with him. Instead, she’d told herself that John MacLaren was an arrogant bore who wasn’t worth her time.

Yet every time she’d seen him from that point forward she’d felt that same overwhelming arousal and attraction. It had embarrassed her, made her feel self-conscious and unsure of herself—a new and unwelcome experience. Worse, she’d lived in constant terror that he might discern how she felt. It was no wonder that she’d decided that it was smarter to invite his dislike than risk having him find out how vulnerable he made her feel.

And since she wasn’t about to confess the truth after all these years, she could hardly expect him to fall all over himself, welcoming her, she reminded herself now. She’d simply have to do the best she could.

And try to remember that he was her last hope. That no matter what she felt, she couldn’t afford to give up on him now.

She drew herself up and walked toward the door. Entering the house, she found herself standing in a spacious, sun-filled mudroom. She had a quick impression of a granite-tiled floor, of a wall covered with hooks that held coats, hats, chaps and all sorts of other equipment, of an alcove housing an oversize washer and dryer. To her left was even what appeared to be a spacious bathroom equipped with a glassed-in shower.

But it was the sight of John planted before a large utility sink with his back to her that commanded her attention. He’d tossed his hat on a nearby counter and yanked his dusty T-shirt out of his jeans. Now, he tugged the garment over his head and tossed it to the floor.

An unwitting voyeur, Eve stared at his smooth, sun-bronzed back, observing the muscles bunch and shift as he turned on the water, picked up the soap and proceeded to wash. When he bent to rinse off, the satiny hollow of his spine flattened out, exposing a ribbon of taut, pale skin at his belt line.

She was so transfixed that she almost didn’t look away in time as he abruptly shut off the water, grabbed a towel and swiveled around. “Well?” He waited expectantly.

She forced herself to meet his gaze, trying to behave as if she wasn’t acutely aware of his seminakedness. It wasn’t easy to do, particularly when an unwanted ribbon of heat curled through her as he rubbed the towel down his neck and over the sculpted contours of his chest. “I had lunch with Chrissy Abrams last week,” she began, ordering herself to concentrate. “She told me that you have a seven-year-old daughter who recently came to live with you. And that you’ve been trying since summer to find somebody to look after her.”

“So?”

“So I’d like the job.”

He went absolutely still, and then a faint smile curved his mouth. “You’re joking, right?”

“No. No, I’m not.”

The smile faded. He gave her a long, penetrating look. “Why would you want to do that?”

She’d known he was bound to ask and she was ready. Keeping her eyes steady on his face, she said with a lightness she didn’t feel, “Because Lander is my home. I’ve missed it and I’d like to stay in the area. And now that I’ve sold the ranch, I need something to do.”

“And you think working for me is it?” His face hardened and he slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so, Eve.”

Even though she’d suspected it was coming, his answer was crushing. She swallowed. “Why not?”

He tossed the towel onto the counter and headed for the dryer, where he retrieved a clean blue T-shirt several shades lighter than his eyes. Frowning, he peeled off a small white lace-edged sock that clung to it, tossing the stocking onto the washer top. He pulled on the shirt and strolled back toward the sink, stuffing the tail into his jeans as he went. “Let’s just say I don’t think you’re the right woman for the job.”

“But I am.” She struggled to keep the desperation out of her voice. “I’m here, I’m available, I know my way around a ranch and I’m very, very good with kids.”

He leaned back against the counter, looking singularly unconvinced. “Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. Chrissy apparently didn’t tell you that I need somebody who’s willing to live in.”

“Actually, she did.”

His glorious blue eyes narrowed slightly. “And that’s all right with you?”

Clearly now was not the time to admit it was the prospect of living with him that had made her exhaust every possibility of other employment first. “Yes.”

“Well, it’s not with me. This’ll probably come as a shock to you, princess,” his voice took on a distinctly sarcastic tone, “but I need somebody who can do more than just keep Lissy company. I don’t have either a cook or a maid, so I’m looking for someone who can run a house, too.”

She absolutely was not going to lose her temper. Still, she couldn’t keep the tartness out of her own voice as she answered. “I think I can handle it, John. I know how to cook and clean. More importantly, as I understand it, your daughter’s not having the easiest time fitting in at school—” she saw his mouth tighten and knew she was moving into dangerous territory “—and I think I can help.”

“Chrissy Abrams talks too much,” he said flatly.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t change the fact that I have something unique to offer. I was just a little older than your daughter when I lost my parents and came to live with Granddad. I know what it’s like to be uprooted, to lose one way of life and make the adjustment to another.”

He shook his head. “Even if you have more moves than Mary Poppins, the answer is still no, Eve.”

“But—” For one reckless moment she nearly blurted out the truth. Please. I need this job. I’ve sold everything of value I can, I’ve got less than three hundred dollars to my name and in four days I’ll be homeless—

“I’m sorry.” John coolly interrupted her frantic thoughts. “But it just wouldn’t work.”

The finality in his voice was unmistakable. Like a slap in the face, it brought Eve to her senses. A shiver went through her as she realized just how close she’d come to begging for his help and shaming her grandfather’s memory.

Even so, she couldn’t stop the hot wash of tears that prickled her eyes as her last hope died. She glanced quickly away and blinked hard, swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat. “I see.”

It would be all right, she told herself fiercely. This was merely another setback, not the end of the road. Something was bound to turn up. The important thing now was not to make a bigger fool of herself than she already had by coming here.

She swallowed again. Raising her chin, she forced herself to face him. “Well.” She managed a smile. “I guess I’m not going to change your mind, am I?”

He shook his head. “No.”

She felt her lower lip start to tremble and glanced blindly at her watch. “Then I’d better let you go, or you’ll be late.”

To her relief, he shifted his gaze to his own wristwatch and she seized the opportunity to turn away. Although she suddenly wanted nothing more than to escape, she forced herself to stroll toward the door. Summoning up another surface smile, she glanced over her shoulder. “It was nice seeing you again, John.”

He nodded, his expression impossible to read. “You, too.”

“I hope you find someone soon.”

“Sure.”

And then she was out the door and crossing the porch. She made her way to her car, her steps deliberately measured. Climbing in, she turned the key she’d left in the ignition, backed out carefully and pulled onto the ranch driveway, resisting the urge to speed.

It wasn’t until she reached the highway that she could no longer ignore the way her hands were shaking. Tightening her grip on the steering wheel, she pulled over and stopped the car, struggling to yank on the emergency brake as the shaking spread.

Stubbornly, she again tried to tell herself that everything was going to be all right.

Except that deep down, she no longer believed it.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late. A single tear slid down her face as she wondered what she was going to do now.

Two

The pickup rattled over the cattle guard with a muted thump of its heavy-duty tires.

Slowing the vehicle as he reached the highway, John turned to the left, pulled over onto the shoulder and braked. Squinting into the sun, he looked toward the west and quickly spotted the distinctive yellow school bus still well off in the distance.

He gave a sigh of relief, glad that he wasn’t late. Rolling down his window, he switched off the pickup’s engine and settled back to wait, aware, as he felt the tension in his shoulders, that he was strung tighter than seven feet of barbwire on an eight-foot section of fence.

He knew exactly who was to blame.

Although he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to think about her, his thoughts zeroed in on Eve. You could have knocked him over with a feather when he’d pulled into the yard and seen her. After all these years, she was still as blond and beautiful as ever. Not to mention as self-assured. What was it she’d said about her job qualifications?

Oh, yeah. I think I have something unique to offer.

Well, she sure as hell was right about that. And for all he knew, she also wasn’t half bad when it came to taking care of kids.

His mouth twisted caustically. He wasn’t a man to hold a grudge but he wasn’t a fool, either. He hadn’t forgotten the way she’d acted toward him all those years ago, before she’d left for her fancy college. Slim and long-legged, with golden skin, clear gray eyes and the straightest, whitest teeth he’d ever seen, at seventeen she’d been an absolute charmer—with everyone but him.

Since there had never been anything wrong with his ego, he’d known damn well he wasn’t without a certain appeal of his own. For whatever reason—his size, the innate aloofness that gave him an air of being hard to get, the fact that he was an orphan—women had been drawn to him since his early teens.

But not the lovely Ms. Chandler. She’d taken an obvious dislike to him at first sight. There had been no sunny smiles, none of the warmth or practical jokes or wry teasing she bestowed on the rest of the hands. Instead, although always faultlessly polite, she’d treated him as if he smelled bad.

He sure as hell hadn’t appreciated her attitude. But he had needed the job, so he’d sucked it in and done his best to ignore her. He’d told himself she was nothing more than a kid. And that she was actually doing him a favor, since he’d known that Max Chandler would fire him in a second if he showed the slightest interest in her.

Still, it had rankled. And for all that he’d never let on, it hadn’t been long before he’d itched to take her down a peg and wipe that superior look off her pretty face. Making matters worse, on some level he’d known that the urge sprang not from a need for respect or revenge but because he wanted her. He’d wanted to thrust his hands in her silky blond hair and taste her smooth pink mouth. He’d wanted to feel her slim, golden body under his. He’d wanted to touch her all over and make her cry out his name.

Spoiled or not, she’d made him ache.

Which was all water under the bridge, he reminded himself now. Sure, she still looked damn good, maybe even better than before. And yeah, there was still something about her—the husky timbre of her voice, the graceful way she moved, the silky-soft look of her hair and skin—that seemed to go straight to his groin and play hell with the fit of his jeans. But as for her suggestion that she come to work for him…

John’s expression turned cynical. No matter how much he needed the help, or how appealing the thought of being Eve’s boss, he had no intention of indulging the whims of the Rocking C’s patrician princess.

She was all wrong for the job, for one thing. He needed someone who would take care of practical matters without caring if she mussed her hair. And that someone had to be warm, grounded and nurturing, not a spoiled social butterfly. What’s more, she had to be willing to stick around longer than it took for a coat of nail polish to dry.

When it came to Eve, he especially doubted her staying power. She could talk all she wanted about how she’d missed home and wanted to remain in the area, but he was sure it wouldn’t be very long before she changed her mind. After all, what could Lander offer compared to New York or London or Paris? And why would she suddenly feel the need for a job, when she’d spent the past few years as a lady of leisure?

Unless… He shifted, feeling a trace uneasy. He’d heard rumors a few months back that Max Chandler was in financial trouble. At the time, he’d been too preoccupied with the discovery that he had a daughter to pay much attention. When he had bothered to think about it, he’d just assumed the gossips must be wrong. Although rising expenses and a downward trend in the price of cattle had bankrupted a lot of spreads over the past few years, he couldn’t believe anyone as shrewd as Max would allow things to get out of hand. And yet, if he had, that might explain Eve’s surprising desire for employment.

The sound of squealing brakes interrupted his speculations. Looking up, he saw the school bus had finally arrived. As he watched, the hinged stop sign swung out and the red and yellow warning lights flashed on. With a swoosh of escaping air, the door folded back and Lissy appeared.

John’s heart squeezed as he took her in. She was barely bigger than a minute, with her skinny arms, pale little face and big blue eyes. And though her outfit was hardly stylish—he winced a little at the orange sweater, red-plaid skirt that fell to midcalf and the pink frilly socks with the white patent leather mary-janes—he didn’t care. She was his daughter, his flesh and blood. He felt a rush of emotion—love, awe, tenderness—so strong, it was almost painful.

Not that it mattered, he was quick to remind himself as their gazes met and she sent him a brief, uncertain smile before glancing away. No matter how strongly he felt about being a father, he and his daughter were still strangers. Her mother—a woman he barely remembered—had made sure of that.

John’s jaw tightened. He still didn’t understand why Elaine hadn’t come to him when she found out she was pregnant. Granted, the handful of times they’d spent together had been more a series of one-night stands than an actual affair. And by insisting on using protection, he had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in a commitment.

But if she had just sought him out, told him that something had gone wrong and that she was carrying his child, he would have married her in an instant. He was a man who took care of his obligations.

Instead, she’d remained silent, even when she fell ill and left his child with her mother to raise. Hell, if the old lady hadn’t gotten sick herself, he never would have known he had a kid.

He shook his head. Every time he thought about all the years he’d missed with Lissy, it made him a little crazy. He couldn’t help thinking that maybe, if he’d had a chance to get to know her as a baby, to see her grow and get acquainted with her gradually, he wouldn’t be such a bust as a parent now.

Then again, maybe not. The truth was, the Lander County Boys’ Home hadn’t prepared him for fatherhood, instant or otherwise. Nor had it taught him the first thing about being part of a family. No matter how hard he tried, he didn’t know what to say or how to act, much less how to befriend a little kid—and a girl, at that.

And though he wasn’t surprised, it ate at him. He’d long ago decided he’d never marry, since what he’d seen at the orphanage—boys left alone, whether by their parents’ choices or by their parents’ deaths—had convinced him that love couldn’t be depended upon. But with Lissy it was different, since neither of them had a choice in the matter. She was here, and he was here, and he knew damn well that she deserved better than he was able to give.

Still, they’d managed all right during the summer. Due, no doubt, to the fact that his nearest neighbor’s teenage daughter had been willing to baby-sit, leaving him pretty much free to go about his business as usual. Now that school had started and he and Lis were on their own, it wasn’t so simple, however. In addition to having a twelve-thousand-acre ranch to run, he had to contend with baths, bedtimes, laundry and meals. And without someone to run interference, his normal reticence combined with his daughter’s shyness was making for increasingly long and awkward silences.

Across the way, Lissy started down the bus’s steep metal stairs. It was his signal to climb out of the truck, and he did, striding around to the other side as she walked up. “Hey, Lissy.” Opening the passenger door, he reached for her bright red backpack and tossed it onto the truck’s abbreviated back seat.

She glanced shyly up at him. “Hi.”

He reached out and boosted her carefully onto the seat. She weighed next to nothing, making him acutely aware of his own strength. Straightening, he stepped back and waited for her to fasten her seat belt. Once she did, he shut her door, walked around and got in on his own side. As soon as the bus lumbered away, he started the truck, made a tight U-turn and headed back to the ranch.

Silence reigned as he tried to think of something to say. Finally, after more than a mile, he glanced surreptitiously at her. She jerked her gaze away from him and stared down at her lap, pink touching her cheeks as she began to pluck at her skirt with her pale fingers.

He cleared his throat. “So…how was your day?”

She shrugged one thin shoulder. “Okay.”

“Anything interesting happen?”

Her fingers stilled. After a moment, she nodded. “Uh-huh.”

He waited, but she remained silent. “What?” he said finally.

To his surprise, she suddenly sucked in a breath and turned to face him. “Jenny Handelmen asked me to come to her birthday party!”

He stared at her. Her usually sober little face was lit up like a Christmas tree. “She did?”

“Uh-huh. She wasn’t going to—” her pleasure dimmed a fraction “—but her mom said she had to ask all the girls in the class.”

John suppressed the urge to ask who in the hell had felt compelled to tell her that. “Yeah, well, the important thing is you got invited,” he said awkwardly.

She appeared to think about that. “I guess.” Her face brightened. “She’s going to have pizza, and a Barbie cake and chocolate ice cream. And she said we’re gonna play games!”

He frowned, surprised by the extent of her excitement. “That’s good, huh?”

She started to reply, then appeared to reconsider. “I think so.”

“Don’t you know?”

She shook her head and her unruly mop of dark blond corkscrew curls bobbed around her shoulders, making him belatedly wonder what had become of the ponytail he’d struggled so hard to secure that morning. “I—I’ve never been to a birthday party before.”

“You haven’t?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged, her expression suddenly uncertain. “Grandma always said no.”

“Huh.” He’d known Lissy’s grandmother only briefly, but it hadn’t taken him long to form an opinion about her character. He wondered if it had been disapproval of having fun in general or the price of a gift that had made the old lady deny the kid such a simple pleasure.

“So can I go?”

He started to say yes, then caught himself. “When is it?”

“Saturday.”

“This Saturday? Tomorrow?”

“Uh-uh.” She shook her head. “The next one.”

His heart sank. “Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What time?”

“Six. Remember, I told you, we’re gonna have pizza for dinner.”

Great. The annual Cattlemen’s Association banquet was due to kick off at seven the same night in Missoula, a hundred and twenty-five miles away. He’d already tried and failed to get a sitter, so he’d gone ahead and made a reservation for the two of them at the hotel. As outgoing president, there was no way he could miss it.

Yet something told him that Lissy wasn’t going to see it that way. He glanced at her. For once she was staring straight at him. Her eyes—the same intense blue as his own—were bright with anticipation. “Can I go? Please?”

He swallowed a curse. “No, I’m afraid not.”

She blinked in surprise, her long lashes brushing her translucent cheeks as all the joy drained from her face. “Oh,” she said in a small voice.

“Look, I’m sorry.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded stilted. “I’ve got a meeting that night and I can’t miss it.”

“Oh,” she said again. She swallowed hard, turning away to once more stare down at her lap. “It’s okay,” she said after a moment. “I—I didn’t really want to go anyway.”

It was clearly a lie. Yet try as he might, John couldn’t think how to address it—much less what he could say that would make things better. Feeling guilty and frustrated, he looked away from her still little face and pretended to be absorbed in the road in front of him.

They traveled the last half mile to the house in total silence. Pulling into the same spot where he’d parked earlier, he stopped the truck and turned off the engine. “I’ve got to get some stuff from the barn,” he said gruffly. He nodded toward the porch. “Why don’t you go on in? Have a quick snack and then you need to change into some play clothes.”

“What for?” she said dully.

“We need to run some salt licks up to the herd at Blue Ridge.”

She still didn’t look at him. “But…couldn’t I stay here? Please?”

He considered. It was a good thirty miles to the ridge round-trip. It would be dark by the time he got back. If something were to happen to her… He shook his head. “No.”

Silence. And then, with an air of utter dejection, she gave a faint sigh. “Okay.” Without another word, she opened the door and climbed out, sliding the last foot to the ground before nudging the door shut and heading for the porch. She looked very small and very much alone as she trudged along, her shoulders slumped, her feet dragging in her scuffed white shoes.

John watched until she disappeared inside the house. For a moment he sat motionless. Then he let loose a curse and slammed his fist against the dashboard. Damn it! She deserved better than this. She deserved better than him. There had to be something he could do, some way he could make things better—

There is, you sorry sonofabitch. The solution was here earlier asking for a job—remember?

The thought froze him in place. He started to deny it, but in the next moment all his earlier arguments against hiring Eve seemed to fade away, replaced by the image of Lissy’s sad little face. He sank back against the seat, his anger abruptly replaced by a sort of grim resignation.

Okay. So he didn’t particularly like Eve. What did it matter? It was Lissy’s happiness that was important. And it wasn’t as if he had other options. If having Eve around would make things better, he could handle his feelings—couldn’t he?

As for his unfortunate physical attraction to her… Big deal. It wasn’t his way to let his feelings cloud his judgment, or his desires dictate his actions. And he certainly wasn’t a stranger to deprivation. He’d lived most of his life without the sort of things—such as a home or family or even a close companion—that other people took for granted. He could handle himself.

As quickly as that, his mind was made up. For Lissy’s sake, he’d do it.

And to hell with his gut, which was already warning him that Ms. Chandler was going to be nothing but trouble.

And that he was making a big mistake.

Three

“You ready?”

Poised in the open doorway of her childhood home, Eve considered John and his less-than-gracious greeting. He looked very big as he stood backlit by afternoon sunshine, the breeze ruffling the navy T-shirt tucked into his close-fitting jeans.

Very big, very remote—and far from friendly. The old adage “Be careful what you wish for” played through her head. Three days ago she’d been distraught when he’d refused to give her a job.

Now, face-to-face with him again, she felt distraught that he had.

A faint, self-mocking sensation curled through her. Clearly this was the time to remind herself that if not for John’s change of heart, she’d be on a Greyhound bus right now bound for who knew where. And that no matter how much she might wish he were a different kind of man—more easygoing, more forthcoming, less attractive, less blatantly male—she owed him for giving her a chance.

“Yes,” she said pleasantly. “I’m ready. And I really appreciate you coming to get me.”

“No problem. That your stuff?” With a jerk of his chin, he indicated the matched set of luggage and the large cardboard box lined up on the porch to his left.

She nodded. “Yes.”

Without another word he walked over, picked up a suitcase in either hand and headed for his truck.

Eve watched him stride away, telling herself that he was doing her a favor with his brusque, businesslike manner. Because, for reasons she was sure were solely attributable to some obscure facet of male-female chemistry, she had to admit that after all these years simply looking at him still made her a little breathless. She didn’t want to think how she’d react if he ever displayed the least bit of charm.

Not that there appeared to be any chance of that. For which she was extremely grateful, she told herself firmly, forcing herself to look away from his retreating back. She needed this job. It would be the height of folly to let some juvenile attraction get in the way.

It was just hard to remember when John’s presence was so unsettling. But then, she supposed in a way she owed him for that, too, since her extreme awareness of him seemed to overshadow everything, even her imminent departure from her childhood home.

She turned and took one last look at the familiar entry, the broad staircase, the living room that was never used, the long hall that led to the family room that was.

It had been a good place to grow up. Yet she wasn’t sorry to leave. Being here alone the past few weeks had made her realize that without her grandfather, the ranch was no longer her home.

She settled the strap of her purse on her shoulder and smoothed her suede vest into place over her white, open-neck shirt and slim-fitting jeans. Then she calmly pushed in the lock and stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind her. She was just in time as John came up the stairs again.

He nodded at the single remaining suitcase as he reached for the cardboard box. “You think you could grab that?” He straightened without any sign of strain, although Eve knew how heavy the box was since she’d needed help carrying it outside.

“Of course.”

“Then let’s go. I need to pick up Lissy and get back to work.” He turned on his heel and headed back the way he’d come.

All right. So maybe he was making it difficult to be grateful. She still wasn’t going to let him get to her. Chin up, she set out after him, approaching just as he finished setting the box in the bed of the truck. He turned but didn’t say anything, merely reached for the suitcase. In the second before it occurred to her to let go, his hand pressed firmly against hers.

It was big, hard and warm, and Eve felt the contact clear to her toes. Startled, she jerked away, her gaze shooting to John’s face as she wondered if he’d felt it, too.

If he had, it didn’t show. His glorious blue eyes were hooded, his strong, masculine face expressionless as he gazed down at her. With a faint shock, she realized how close he was. Despite the breeze, she could feel the heat roll off of him, carrying with it the faint scent of soap and sweat. And she could see the beard that shadowed his smoothly shaven cheeks, as well as the faint lines that bracketed each side of his chiseled mouth.

Her own mouth suddenly felt desert dry. And still she continued to stare at him, riveted by the sensual curve of his lips—

He abruptly turned away, tossing the bag in the truck with a thump. Leaning over, he snagged an elastic cross tie and secured it across her belongings. Then he straightened, walked the few feet to the passenger door and jerked it open. Leveling a blue-eyed stare at her, he rocked back on his heels. “You getting in or not?”

Eve sucked in a breath. Remember. You can handle this—no matter how he behaves. “Of course.” Deliberately taking her time, she strolled over and climbed unhurriedly into the cab. Looking out at John, she smiled her most gracious smile. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” He slammed the door, walked around and climbed in on the driver’s side. Neither of them spoke as he started the truck and put it in gear.

Eve stared fixedly outside, watching the familiar landscape roll by. The sky was a vast expanse of cloudless blue that seemed to go on forever. On the far horizon, the mountains rose in shades of gray and plum, their jagged peaks frosted with snow. Closer in, a few head of cattle grazed, all that was left of the once vast Chandler herd.

Regret rocked through her. It came despite her confidence that the ranch would prosper again; the Texas consortium that had bought it had deep pockets and a good reputation. Nor did it seem to matter that in addition to making one year’s guaranteed employment for the handful of loyal hands who’d opted to stay on a condition of the sale, she’d also seen to it that they received every dime of their back pay, the best she could do under the circumstances.

She just wished she knew what had prompted her grandfather to make that first risky investment. Or why, when things started to go sour, he hadn’t simply accepted his losses instead of stubbornly throwing good money after bad.

She swallowed a sigh. If only she’d paid more attention, instead of blithely assuming that everything was all right. If only she’d come home last spring, instead of letting Granddad convince her the timing was bad. If only she’d behaved more responsibly, he might have felt he could confide in her, instead of believing he had to protect her the way he always had.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were broke? That you had to sell the ranch?” John asked abruptly.

The question caught her off-guard. Her stomach twisted even as she gamely raised her chin. “Whatever makes you think that?”

“Don’t try to snow me, Eve. I’d already heard some rumors. After you gave me that story about needing a ride today because you were ‘between cars,’ I got to thinking. I called Eldon Taylor and he filled me in.”

Eldon Taylor was the president of Lander Savings and Loan. Eve had never particularly liked him, but until now she’d always thought he was discreet. “He had no right,” she said woodenly.

“Maybe not. But the point is, he did.” They rattled over the last cattle guard, then drove beneath the carved wooden arch that marked the ranch entrance. After checking for other traffic, John pulled out on the sparsely traveled two-lane highway and accelerated. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Unlike Mr. Taylor, I didn’t think it was any of your business,” she said coolly. “I don’t recall asking you for a loan. Or a handout.” She glanced challengingly at him. “Or do you make everyone who works for you fill out a financial statement?”

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I’m not entrusting ‘everyone’ with my daughter. I’m entrusting you. I think that entitles me to ask a few questions.”

As much as it rankled, Eve had to concede he had a point. “All right. What is it you want to know?”

“I thought you had a trust fund, money that came from your parents.”

“That’s right.”

“What happened? You blow through it already?”

Before, she’d only suspected he thought she was a spoiled brat. Now she knew. Yet she was darned if she’d defend herself. Not now, and not to him. She shrugged. “As a matter of fact, I did. But don’t worry. I swear I won’t steal your silver or anything. I’m not that desperate. Yet.”

To her satisfaction, his mouth tightened.

Deciding to press her advantage, she added, “What made you change your mind about hiring me, anyway?”

One shoulder rose and fell dismissively. “I don’t have time to run the ranch and also take care of a kid. Once I thought about it, I decided that any help was better than none. Even yours.”

It was hardly a ringing endorsement, but Eve told herself she didn’t care. His opinion wasn’t the one that mattered. “What about your daughter? What does she have to say about this?”

He shrugged again. “I’ve got a meeting in Missoula this Saturday, the same time that one of her classmates is having a birthday party. Your being here means she can go, so I’d say she’s for it.” He paused, then added almost defensively, “She’s not a real big talker.”

Eve stared at him in surprise, suddenly wondering if there was something he wasn’t telling her. Pursing her lips, she tried to decide how to broach the subject, when suddenly his whole big body stiffened.

“Damn,” he said fiercely.

“What’s the matter?”

“The bus must’ve been early.”

A quick look around made her realize they were coming up on the entrance for the Bar M. But it wasn’t until she followed his gaze that she noticed the forlorn little figure who stood half-hidden next to a large metal mailbox boldly marked MacLaren.

Eve wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this.

John’s daughter was small and pale, with big blue eyes set in a delicate face and a wild tangle of butterscotch curls that spilled from a bedraggled, off-center ponytail. She was also atrociously dressed in a peagreen nylon slicker, a too-big canary-yellow dress that sported an oversize Peter Pan collar, and a pair of sagging navy kneesocks.

Yet what captured Eve’s attention was the way the child took several spontaneous steps forward when she saw the truck, then stopped, as if uncertain of her reception. She hesitated, then raised her hand in a tentative wave.

The vulnerability of the gesture tugged at Eve’s heart.

She glanced at John as he pulled over onto the verge. His face was granite hard as he slammed the transmission into park. He was out the door almost before the pickup had come to a full stop. Yet for all his urgency, he stopped several feet short of his daughter, and he made no attempt to touch her. “You okay?” Although his back was to Eve, his gruff voice carried clearly on the breeze.

The little girl nodded.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay. I just…I thought you forgot.”

There was a moment’s silence. When he spoke, his voice was even more clipped than before. “I wouldn’t do that.” He reached down and picked up the small backpack that was lying on the dusty ground. “Come on.” He straightened. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

The child glanced toward the truck, apprehension suddenly filling her face. “Is that her? Is that the lady who’s going to stay with me?” she asked anxiously.

Eve had heard enough. Propelled by an instinct she didn’t question, she unlatched her seat belt, scrambled out of the truck and walked over to where father and daughter stood.

Ignoring John, she looked down at the child standing silently at his side. She smiled her most reassuring smile and waited.

There was a brief silence. Then, with an abruptness she pretended not to notice, John said gruffly, “This is my daughter, Lissy.” He touched his hand to the child’s shoulder. “Lissy, say hello to Miss Chandler.”

The little girl looked soberly up at her. “Hello.”

“I’m so glad to finally meet you, Lissy,” she said warmly. “You can call me Eve, okay?”

The child hesitated, then nodded.

Eve’s smile softened. Gently, she reached out and gave Lissy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Good. I just know we’re going to be friends.”

For a second the child appeared startled. “You do?”

Eve nodded. “Uh-huh. And that’s good because I could use a new friend.”

“Oh.” Lissy hesitated. Her big blue eyes seemed to search Eve’s face, and then an uncertain smile trembled across her mouth. “Me, too.”

In that moment, Eve lost her heart.

John’s house was beautiful as well as functional.

Designed to conform to the surrounding land, the spacious, sprawling, single-story structure was shaped like a trio of rectangles stacked in a sideways stair step. The first block contained the mudroom, which Eve had already seen, and an airy, modern kitchen. A granite-topped eating bar angled along its far side and was open to the second, largest block, which held John’s study and a great room. The third block housed the sleeping quarters, with the master bed and bath occupying half the space, three smaller bedrooms and two bathrooms sharing the rest.

Standing in the great room, midway between the kitchen, dining and living areas, Eve admired the huge stone fireplace and the open beams that arched across the vaulted ceiling. The far end of the room jutted out like the bow of a ship and was ribbed with tall windows, so that it seemed to blend with the vast sweep of land and sky outside. The effect was expansive and restful, a feeling echoed by the furniture that was simply but beautifully done using warm woods and soft fabrics in shades of camel, taupe, sand and blue.

“This is wonderful,” she said sincerely as John appeared from delivering the last of her things to her room.

He shrugged. “It’ll do.”

Their gazes met. To her dismay, although he looked about as friendly as an iceberg, she felt a subtle but unrelenting tug of attraction similar to an ocean undertow.

“Where’s Lissy?” he said abruptly.

“She went to change her clothes.”

“Ah.” He considered her for a moment, then headed for the kitchen. “There are some things we need to go over.”

“All right.” She turned as he walked past her and followed him as far as the eating bar.

Opening the door to the walk-in pantry, he took a set of keys off a hook on the wall. He shut the door, walked over and slid them across the counter to her. “I had the ranch Jeep brought in for you. It’s not much to look at, but the engine and the tires are sound and the gas tank’s full.”

“Thank you.”

A faint, slightly cynical smile touched his mouth. “Trust me, it’s no Mercedes, princess. But it’s safe and it’ll get you and Lissy where you need to go.”

She inclined her head, since there didn’t seem to be anything to say to that.

“We can go over the school bus schedule and any questions you have later. Right now, all you need to know is that the freezer here is fully stocked—” he touched the stainless-steel front of the Sub-Zero next to the matching refrigerator “—and that I’d like to eat by six.”

Before Eve could respond, the sound came of somebody knocking at the back door. John strode over to look into the mudroom, then turned back to her. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “That’s my foreman. I’d better go see what he wants.”

“No problem.” She watched him walk away—until it dawned on her that she was admiring the way his jeans clung to his narrow hips and long legs.

Heat climbed into her cheeks. She turned away, wondering a little wildly what it was going to take to dim her awareness of him, only to realize she was pretty sure she wouldn’t like the answer.

Irritated with herself, she set off to find Lissy, determined to put John, and her unfortunate reaction to him, out of her mind. Walking quickly down the hallway that fronted the bedrooms, she stopped at what she hoped was the correct door and glanced in.

Like her own room, this one was bright and spacious, with a large closet on one wall and a trio of arch-top windows opposite the door. Yet except for a battered stuffed rabbit propped on the bed, it also felt rather impersonal, like a nicely appointed hotel room. While the carved oak dresser, highboy and double bed with its blue, beige and white bedspread were lovely, they seemed far too old for a seven-year-old.

She spotted her charge lying on her stomach on a blue-and-white braided rug beneath the windows. Several sheets of paper were spread out around her, and a big box of crayons was tipped on its side by her right hand.

Eve knocked, staying put until the child looked up. “Hi. Can I come in?”

Lissy nodded and scrambled into a sitting position.

“What are you up to? Coloring?”

The child nodded again, her face registering nearcomical surprise when Eve crossed the rug and sank onto the floor beside her.

“Is it all right for me to look?”

The little girl dropped her gaze, suddenly shy. “Okay.”

Eve studied the drawings spread out before her. One was of a tall man with dark hair—clearly John—who stood so much larger than life that he dwarfed the mountain behind him. Another was of an eagle soaring across the sky. And the third, the one that Lissy was obviously working on now, was of a house at night, bright yellow light pouring from the windows beneath a star-spangled sky. Tellingly, there was a dark-haired man framed in one window and a little blond girl in another, both quite alone.

Eve’s heart clenched, even as she managed a cheery smile. “These are lovely. Did you know, my friend Chrissy is the sister of your teacher, Miss Abrams?”

“She is?”

“Uh-huh. And I understand that Miss Abrams thinks you’re one of the very best artists in her class. I can see why. You draw wonderful pictures.”

“Oh.” The little girl’s face filled with surprised pleasure. “I like to color.” She glanced down self-consciously at her lap.

Eve considered that small, bowed head. In addition to her comments about the child’s artistic talent, Pam Abrams had also reportedly said that John’s daughter could use a woman in her life. At the time, Eve had just assumed—foolishly, she now admitted—that the child must be a miniature version of her father, and what she needed was a civilizing influence.

It didn’t take a genius to realize she’d missed the mark. Or to discern that in sharp contrast to her selfassured, self-possessed father, what Lissy was most in need of was someone to give her their undivided attention, to build her up, to boost her confidence and be her champion.

That—and a fashion makeover. Eve swallowed a wry grimace. Just as she’d told John, the youngster had indeed changed out of her school clothes. Now, instead of that awful yellow dress, she was wearing a drab red sweatshirt that sagged at the neck and fell nearly to her knees over a faded, too-short pair of faded pink leggings. The latter exposed her bony little ankles, which protruded above a pair of ruffled lavender anklets and worn white mary-janes.

Eve wondered what on earth John was thinking to allow his child to go around looking like a pint-size bag lady. For someone so prickly proud, it seemed out of character. Then again, she didn’t really know him, a fact that was becoming increasingly clear with every hour that passed.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

The child’s eyes widened. “You do?”

“Yes, I do.” She reached into her vest pocket, pulled out a small, gift-wrapped package and handed it to Lissy. “It’s something my granddad gave me when I came to live with him,” she said softly, watching as the child carefully began to remove the pink and gold paper. “I thought, since you just recently came to live with your dad, that you might like to have it.”

Lissy stared down at the small, velvet gift box she’d unwrapped. Chewing her lower lip in concentration, she pried up the top. “Ohhh!”

Lying on a bed of midnight satin was a small gold horse pendant, threaded onto a sturdy but pretty gold chain.

Lissy looked at her, her eyes as round as pennies. “Oh, it’s so pretty,” she breathed.

Eve smiled. “Would you like to try it on?”

The child nodded. “Yes, please.”

Eve picked up the necklace, opened the clasp and leaned forward. “Max, my granddad, told me—” she fastened the chain around the child’s delicate neck, then sat back to admire the effect “—that wearing this makes you an official Montana cowgirl.”

Lissy touched her hand to the necklace. “It does?”

“Absolutely.”

“Even…even if you’re afraid of horses?”

Eve considered the sudden hope on that little face and added teach to ride and revamp wardrobe to her quickly growing list of things to do. “Even then,” she said firmly, rewarded by one of Lissy’s shy, tremulous smiles.

She smiled back, then looked up as an inexplicable little tingle warned her they were no longer alone. Tall and imposing, John stood silently in the doorway. Their gazes met and to her shock, for the briefest moment she could have sworn there was something in his eyes that was dark and hungry.

As if she were seventeen again, her body responded instantly. Her breath caught, her skin flushed, her nipples beaded. Worse, she felt an overwhelming urge to climb to her feet, close the distance between them and indulge herself in the luxury of exploring that big, hard body—

“Look what Eve gave me!”

Lissy’s awe-filled exclamation jerked John’s gaze toward his daughter. As if released from a spell, Eve snapped back to reality. What on earth had just happened? she wondered, a shiver shuddering through her.

Whatever it was, Lissy thankfully seemed oblivious. Climbing to her feet, the child approached her father and shyly held up the pendant. “See?”

John looked from the necklace to his daughter’s upturned face. “It’s real nice,” he murmured.

The little girl smiled with surprised pleasure and his own expression seemed to lighten fractionally.

He straightened. “I’ve got to get back to work but I shouldn’t be too long.” His blue eyes once again found Eve. They were cool and polite, nothing more. “Like I said before, I’d like to eat around six.”

“Fine.”

“If you need anything, my cell phone number’s posted next to the telephone in the kitchen.”

She forced herself to smile. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll manage, won’t we, Lissy?”

The child’s head bobbed. “Uh-huh.”

“All right, then.” With a brusque nod, he turned on his heel and left.

It wasn’t very mature of her, but in light of her inability to control her rampaging hormones, Eve was glad to see him go.

Four

Eve was seated at the kitchen counter when John walked out of his bedroom Friday morning.

His step faltered as his gaze raked over her, taking note of the slender line of her back, the taut curve of her fanny, the bare feet he could see propped on the bottom rung of the bar stool. With her shining blond hair and sun-kissed skin, she looked all-American exotic, as if she ought to be hanging ten on a beach somewhere.

Not that he gave a damn. Shoving his shirttail into his jeans, he told himself that the sudden tension humming through him was nothing more than annoyance. Growing up at the orphanage, privacy had been nonexistent; in the years since he’d left it, he’d come to treasure his morning solitude.

Somehow he doubted Eve would understand, however. With her upbringing, she probably believed he’d be thrilled to see her. God knew, she hadn’t held back from making her presence felt in the brief time that she’d been here. Small reminders of her were all over his house, from the bouquet of fall flowers in the center of the dining room table, to the flimsy Italian leather shoes lined up next to his boots in the mudroom, to the faint scent of her perfume that seemed to linger long after she’d left a room.

Still, he was willing to concede that so far she was managing a lot better than he’d expected. The house was clean and tidy. Dinner the past four nights had been delicious. Most importantly, she seemed to really be making an effort with Lissy.

And that was the only thing that mattered.

He crossed the room, his stride firm and purposeful as he walked around the end of the eating counter.

“Good morning,” Eve said softly.

Her husky voice tickled along his spine. Deliberately taking his time, he poured himself a cup of coffee before he finally turned to face her. “What are you doing up so early?”

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