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it.”
    He moved toward the table and after sitting down he watched her and wondered if Callum’s speculations were true. Was she living here at the ranch as his cook because she was on the run from someone? He sipped his coffee thinking that he was not one to overreact, but what if some of what Callum assumed was true?
    “How do you want your eggs, Ramsey?”
    He blinked, realizing she had asked him a question. “Excuse me? What did you say?”
    “Your eggs. Do you prefer scrambled, sunny-side up or over easy?”
    It was on the tip of his tongue to say he preferred them over her so he could lick them off, but thought better of it. She was wearing another short dress and like last night she had spoiled the effect by a pair of leggings. What was with those things? Why the hell were women wearing them under their dresses? He enjoyed seeing bare skin. Nothing was wrong with seeing a nice piece of feminine flesh on occasion. And although he’d never seen her legs, he had no reason to believe they weren’t gorgeous, a real arousal-getter just like the rest of her.
    The lower part of his body was already throbbing with the way her outfit fit over her bottom, showing a perfect shape. He could just imagine lying in bed with that backside curved against his front in spoon fashion, dipping his head to nibble on her neck and to place marks of passion there before moving toward…
    “Ramsey?”
    He blinked again. “Yes?”
    “How do you want your eggs?”
    “Sunny-side up will be fine.”
    He watched how she handled the frying pan. There was no doubt in his mind she knew what she was doing. And the way she cracked the egg was sure and precise. He couldn’t help wondering about her cooking skills. Had she gone to culinary school? If so, why wasn’t she working at a first-class restaurant somewhere? Why was she here on a sheep ranch on the outskirts of Denver? There was only one way to find out. He’d discovered that with some women if you got them talking they would tell you just about anything you wanted toknow. It worked with Bailey, although it hadn’t been a proven trick with Megan or Gemma.
    As she cooked his eggs he studied her. She didn’t look like a woman under any sort of duress. She seemed calm and looked cool. And she appeared to enjoy what she was doing.
    His gaze moved to her face. She didn’t have normal features. She was beautiful. Soft-looking brown skin, a sensual pair of eyes, a cute nose and a pair of lips he longed to taste. Her dark brown hair was shoulder length, lustrous curly strands. It didn’t take much to imagine that hair spread across a pillow. His pillow. And those sensual dark eyes shimmering with arousal right as she shifted her body to spread her thighs, open her legs to fill the air with her scent while he stared down at her feminine mound, moist, ready, waiting for him to sample.
    The surge of desire that swept through him at that moment was so fierce it almost took his breath away. He needed something stronger than a cup of coffee and was tempted to pull a beer out of the refrigerator. Instead he drew in a long, deep breath, shifted his gaze to look out the window. Think about something else. The bill that was soon to come due on his new tractor. The fact that Gemma was bugging him about decorating the rest of his house. Anything except making hot, carnal love to Chloe.
    Trying to regain control of his libido and senses, he looked over toward her. She might know how to wield a frying pan and all that, but there was a refined air about her that disconnected her ability in the kitchen with the way she carried herself. It was as if she should be getting served instead of being the one doing the serving. “Are you married?”
    She glanced over at him but only for a second. She went back to concentrating on cooking his eggs. “No.”
    “You sure?”
    Her head lifted and she stared at him, gave him a look like he’d suddenly grown two heads or something. “Of course I’m sure.” She