it’s the porch you’ve decided on, I’m flexible.”
“If you’ll put on some clothes, I’ll come back into the house.” Eleanor drew in a deep breath waiting for him to agree—then she’d get off the porch and run like hell toward the big gate and the town beyond.
“Nope, no point in it,” he said. “They’d be comin’ back off as soon as you hit the door.”
“Your brains were addled by a head injury, right?” Cornered and unconvinced she could persuade her cowboy boss to come to his senses, she gripped the railing, ready to sprint for the steps.
“Eleanor, did I not agree to haul your desserts to town?” If he hadn’t been stark naked it would have been a reasonable question.
“I don’t know what you agreed to. Worse yet, I don’t know what I agreed to,” she muttered, inching her way closer to her goal.
“Did I not tell you my housekeepers had night duty too?” he growled.
“You didn’t say night duty included cavorting naked in a bathtub with you,” Eleanor answered swiftly.
“You haven’t done much playing in your life, have you, Eleanor?” he asked. Then seeing her glance toward the steps again he said sternly, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he went through the door, she studied her escape to nowhere, hesitating before she started her descent.
“Eleanor.” His voice cracked out like a whip drawing her gaze to where he stood draped in a blanket that covered him from neck to knees. “Sit down in the swing. We’ll negotiate some.”
Dreading the coming conversation, she took a seat. As soon as her feet left the porch floor, he walked to where she sat in the swing, unfurled his blanket, wrapped it around both of them, and slid next to her, pulling her tight against his bare thigh.
Eleanor gasped, jerking in shock when Cyrus reached down and untangled her clenched hands, laying the right one on his bare leg.
“Just settle down. All we’re doin’ is talking a bit.” He covered her fingers, capturing her hand between his warm palm and warmer thigh, sending heat scorching through her. Lazily he propelled the swing into motion, his left arm embracing her shoulders, her body hugging his.
“Eleanor, the way I see it, we made a deal and finalized it last night. If you didn’t agree to the terms, you shouldn’t have accepted the contract.”
Before she could protest further, he dropped his head and nuzzled her neck.
“Did you not enjoy yourself?” he whispered the question in her ear.
“I’d rather not speak about it.” She averted her gaze, staring at the barn.
He moved his hand, pulling hers with it in a slide through the fine hair on his thigh. Her fingers clenched, grabbing his skin in a pinching hold, preventing the upward climb.
“You brand me, I put my mark on you in the same place.” His low chuckle brushed across her ear, his breath warming her as he leaned closer with his promise.
She released her grip.
“Burns where you touched me,” he drawled. Then, instead of rubbing his own leg, he dropped his left arm to her side and put his hand on her thigh, mirroring the spot she’d pinched.
“Right about here,” he said, stroking her limb, his heat radiating through her skirts.
“What do you want from me?” she asked desperately.
“Well, aside from two meals a day, a clean house and you warming my bed, I wouldn’t mind you dropping the Mr. Burke and calling me Cyrus.”
Since she’d just been arguing with herself about the same thing, her answer was already framed. “Mr. Burke, I’m your temporary housekeeper. Using your given name would signify we have a relationship other than employee and employer.” She closed her eyes and sighed, holding her head rigid where it lay against his shoulder.
“Not interested in anything else, huh?”
“What? Resident doxy, slattern with a mop? Of course I’m not interested in anything else.” She grabbed his arm, stopping the hand on her thigh from moving higher. “I have to
“If you’ll put on some clothes, I’ll come back into the house.” Eleanor drew in a deep breath waiting for him to agree—then she’d get off the porch and run like hell toward the big gate and the town beyond.
“Nope, no point in it,” he said. “They’d be comin’ back off as soon as you hit the door.”
“Your brains were addled by a head injury, right?” Cornered and unconvinced she could persuade her cowboy boss to come to his senses, she gripped the railing, ready to sprint for the steps.
“Eleanor, did I not agree to haul your desserts to town?” If he hadn’t been stark naked it would have been a reasonable question.
“I don’t know what you agreed to. Worse yet, I don’t know what I agreed to,” she muttered, inching her way closer to her goal.
“Did I not tell you my housekeepers had night duty too?” he growled.
“You didn’t say night duty included cavorting naked in a bathtub with you,” Eleanor answered swiftly.
“You haven’t done much playing in your life, have you, Eleanor?” he asked. Then seeing her glance toward the steps again he said sternly, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he went through the door, she studied her escape to nowhere, hesitating before she started her descent.
“Eleanor.” His voice cracked out like a whip drawing her gaze to where he stood draped in a blanket that covered him from neck to knees. “Sit down in the swing. We’ll negotiate some.”
Dreading the coming conversation, she took a seat. As soon as her feet left the porch floor, he walked to where she sat in the swing, unfurled his blanket, wrapped it around both of them, and slid next to her, pulling her tight against his bare thigh.
Eleanor gasped, jerking in shock when Cyrus reached down and untangled her clenched hands, laying the right one on his bare leg.
“Just settle down. All we’re doin’ is talking a bit.” He covered her fingers, capturing her hand between his warm palm and warmer thigh, sending heat scorching through her. Lazily he propelled the swing into motion, his left arm embracing her shoulders, her body hugging his.
“Eleanor, the way I see it, we made a deal and finalized it last night. If you didn’t agree to the terms, you shouldn’t have accepted the contract.”
Before she could protest further, he dropped his head and nuzzled her neck.
“Did you not enjoy yourself?” he whispered the question in her ear.
“I’d rather not speak about it.” She averted her gaze, staring at the barn.
He moved his hand, pulling hers with it in a slide through the fine hair on his thigh. Her fingers clenched, grabbing his skin in a pinching hold, preventing the upward climb.
“You brand me, I put my mark on you in the same place.” His low chuckle brushed across her ear, his breath warming her as he leaned closer with his promise.
She released her grip.
“Burns where you touched me,” he drawled. Then, instead of rubbing his own leg, he dropped his left arm to her side and put his hand on her thigh, mirroring the spot she’d pinched.
“Right about here,” he said, stroking her limb, his heat radiating through her skirts.
“What do you want from me?” she asked desperately.
“Well, aside from two meals a day, a clean house and you warming my bed, I wouldn’t mind you dropping the Mr. Burke and calling me Cyrus.”
Since she’d just been arguing with herself about the same thing, her answer was already framed. “Mr. Burke, I’m your temporary housekeeper. Using your given name would signify we have a relationship other than employee and employer.” She closed her eyes and sighed, holding her head rigid where it lay against his shoulder.
“Not interested in anything else, huh?”
“What? Resident doxy, slattern with a mop? Of course I’m not interested in anything else.” She grabbed his arm, stopping the hand on her thigh from moving higher. “I have to
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