Read Online The Rancher and the Runaway Bride Part 1 by Susan Mallery - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Mallery
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was he trying to kid with that line? He couldn’t think about her like everyone else, because he couldn’t stop thinking about her at all. He could easily dismiss the cowboys from his mind, but Rita got under his skin.
A brief knock caused him to look up. She stood in the doorway.
“Come in,” he called, feeling like an adolescent with his first crush for being so pleased to see her.
She brushed her palms against her jeans-clad thighs, then did as he requested.
In the evening she usually let her hair loose of its braid and simply tied the riot of curls back at the base of her neck. Lamplight made them gleam as a few wayward strands danced around her neck. Her pale, much-washed T-shirt emphasized her strong arms and well-formed breasts.
He told himself to look away. Her feminine attributes were none of his business. She was his employee, nothing more. But as she walked toward him, her hips swaying with each step, he found himself wanting her. As he swallowed against rising desire, he wished he were the kind of man who could simply scratch the itch with whomever was handy. A night in town could take care of his need.
But he wasn’t that kind of man. He needed to trust and care before he participated in an intimate relationship. It was a flaw in his character, at least his rodeo buddies had told him so when he’d refused countless invitations by attractive and willing buckle bunnies.
As he wasn’t going to get involved with Rita, who was both an employee and a woman with a past, he had no choice but to live with the itch. In time it would go away. It always did.
She gave him a tentative smile. He returned it and motioned to the chair across from his desk. Days in the sun had given her skin a honey-colored glow and brought out a few freckles on her nose. She was bright-eyed and young. Too young for him. There were nine years between them. While he wrestled with his lustful thoughts, she probably saw him as an old man. Someone to be respected, like an older brother or an uncle.
Hell, she would be disgusted if she knew how he’d imagined them together, bare and touching, bodies—With a supreme effort of will, he forced his mind to the matter at hand. Rita and her job performance. Was it hot in here or was it just him? He tugged at the collar of his shortsleeved shirt and cleared his throat.
“You’ve been here a week,” he began, only to notice that she fidgeted in her seat. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, she clenched and relaxed her fingers, her gaze wouldn’t meet his.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She pressed her lips together, then blurted out, “You’re going to fire me and I don’t even know what I’ve done wrong. I’ve followed the rules. All of them. The horses are in good shape, I’m up early, I work hard.” She straightened her spine and stared at him. “I’m quiet in the house, I haven’t made trouble with the men. I even clean the bathroom every afternoon after I shower. I just can’t think of a single thing I’m doing that you wouldn’t like.”
The vulnerability in her eyes called to him. Before he could stop himself, he half rose out of his chair. Don’t even think about it, he warned himself as he slowly resumed his seat.
“I’m not going to fire you,” he said. “We agreed to a one-week trial, Rita. The week is up. I want to talk to you about your job. You do great work and I’d like you to stay on. I asked you here so we could talk about that. Nothing more.”
Her mouth opened. Color flooded her face, then faded. “Really?” Her voice squeaked. “I thought—” She shook her head. “I guess I overreacted, huh?”
“Just a little. But under the circumstances, it’s understandable. Now I know why you turned down dessert. When we’re done here, why don’t you go explain it to Tex. I’m sure he’s got some peach cobbler left over. He’ll be wondering why you didn’t have your normal two or three servings. We can’t afford to have our
A brief knock caused him to look up. She stood in the doorway.
“Come in,” he called, feeling like an adolescent with his first crush for being so pleased to see her.
She brushed her palms against her jeans-clad thighs, then did as he requested.
In the evening she usually let her hair loose of its braid and simply tied the riot of curls back at the base of her neck. Lamplight made them gleam as a few wayward strands danced around her neck. Her pale, much-washed T-shirt emphasized her strong arms and well-formed breasts.
He told himself to look away. Her feminine attributes were none of his business. She was his employee, nothing more. But as she walked toward him, her hips swaying with each step, he found himself wanting her. As he swallowed against rising desire, he wished he were the kind of man who could simply scratch the itch with whomever was handy. A night in town could take care of his need.
But he wasn’t that kind of man. He needed to trust and care before he participated in an intimate relationship. It was a flaw in his character, at least his rodeo buddies had told him so when he’d refused countless invitations by attractive and willing buckle bunnies.
As he wasn’t going to get involved with Rita, who was both an employee and a woman with a past, he had no choice but to live with the itch. In time it would go away. It always did.
She gave him a tentative smile. He returned it and motioned to the chair across from his desk. Days in the sun had given her skin a honey-colored glow and brought out a few freckles on her nose. She was bright-eyed and young. Too young for him. There were nine years between them. While he wrestled with his lustful thoughts, she probably saw him as an old man. Someone to be respected, like an older brother or an uncle.
Hell, she would be disgusted if she knew how he’d imagined them together, bare and touching, bodies—With a supreme effort of will, he forced his mind to the matter at hand. Rita and her job performance. Was it hot in here or was it just him? He tugged at the collar of his shortsleeved shirt and cleared his throat.
“You’ve been here a week,” he began, only to notice that she fidgeted in her seat. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, she clenched and relaxed her fingers, her gaze wouldn’t meet his.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She pressed her lips together, then blurted out, “You’re going to fire me and I don’t even know what I’ve done wrong. I’ve followed the rules. All of them. The horses are in good shape, I’m up early, I work hard.” She straightened her spine and stared at him. “I’m quiet in the house, I haven’t made trouble with the men. I even clean the bathroom every afternoon after I shower. I just can’t think of a single thing I’m doing that you wouldn’t like.”
The vulnerability in her eyes called to him. Before he could stop himself, he half rose out of his chair. Don’t even think about it, he warned himself as he slowly resumed his seat.
“I’m not going to fire you,” he said. “We agreed to a one-week trial, Rita. The week is up. I want to talk to you about your job. You do great work and I’d like you to stay on. I asked you here so we could talk about that. Nothing more.”
Her mouth opened. Color flooded her face, then faded. “Really?” Her voice squeaked. “I thought—” She shook her head. “I guess I overreacted, huh?”
“Just a little. But under the circumstances, it’s understandable. Now I know why you turned down dessert. When we’re done here, why don’t you go explain it to Tex. I’m sure he’s got some peach cobbler left over. He’ll be wondering why you didn’t have your normal two or three servings. We can’t afford to have our
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