Книга - Wyoming Wife?

Wyoming Wife?
Shawna Delacorte


SNOWBOUND WITH A WYOMING COWBOY!Samantha Burkett knew microwave meals, rush-hour gridlock and men in three-piece suits. But an ill-fated trip to Wyoming in the midst of a blizzard set her reality on its ear… . Jace Tremayne had literally swooped down from the big sky to save her life. The rugged, tautly muscled rancher hadn't taken no for an answer, flinging her over his shoulder and flying her by copter to his remote ranch to wait out the worst of the storm.But close quarters with this irresistible cowboy showed Samantha how truly different their worlds were. And how completely Jace rocked hers… . But could she ever be content as this man's Wyoming wife?










“You Do Know That You’ll Have To Stay Here Overnight, Don’t You? Maybe Even Longer.” (#uace98ae5-674b-5ea4-9caa-067292bb0c88)Letter to Reader (#ufd158b42-e17b-51f0-8cb9-fd4507d85027)Title Page (#ueb3c0502-b156-5523-8270-97fb7a8f0c56)About the Author (#ubb748d6a-3306-5b9a-8770-434407d6d87a)Chapter One (#u57497c9a-8b71-5ecb-bed9-c5e203ab2525)Chapter Two (#uade83c42-a4de-5c8f-91ce-844198a85202)Chapter Three (#ucfd7b737-b0d0-5022-a556-f7ba93956d67)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


“You Do Know That You’ll Have To Stay Here Overnight, Don’t You? Maybe Even Longer.”

Anxiety flitted around inside Samantha’s stomach. It looked as if it would be just the two of them in the house.

“You seem to be uncomfortable,” Jace added. “Let me assure you that you’re perfectly safe—”

“Oh, no...it’s not that.”

Samantha stared at the flames in the fireplace. Exactly what was her problem? She had been totally unprepared for any of the things that had occurred since she left Los Angeles. And the biggest surprise of all was the way Jace Tremayne made her pulse race. It was inappropriate, very confusing...and very real. It was also totally absurd. He was a cowboy, a rugged outdoorsman—not at all the type of man who would fit in her world.

And a cattle ranch in Wyoming was certainly no place for her....


Dear Reader,

The celebration of Silhouette Desire’s 15th anniversary continues this month! First, there’s a wonderful treat in store for you as Ann Major continues her fantastic CHILDREN OF DESTINY series with November’s MAN OF THE MONTH, Nobody’s Child Not only is this the latest volume in this popular miniseries. but Ann will have a Silhouette Single Title, also part of CHILDREN OF DESTINY, in February 1998, called Secret Child. Don’t miss either one of these unforgettable love stories.

BJ James’s popular BLACK WATCH series also continues with Journey’s End, the latest installment in the stories of the men—and the women—of the secret agency.

This wonderful lineup is completed with delicious love stories by Lass Small, Susan Crosby, Eileen Wilks and Shawna Delacorte. And next month, look for six more Silhouette Desire books, including a MAN OF THE MONTH by Dixie Browning!

Desire...it’s the name you can trust for dramatic, sensuous, engrossing stories written by your bestselling favorites and terrific newcomers. We guarantee handsome heroes, likable heroines...and happily-ever-after endings. So read, and enjoy !






Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie. Ont. L2A 5X3


Wyoming Wife?

Shawna Delacorte




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


SHAWNA DELACORTE

has delayed her move to Washington State, staying in the Midwest in order to spend some additional time with family. She still travels as often as time permits and is looking forward to visiting several new places during the upcoming year while continuing to devote herself to writing full-time.


One

Nowhere in Samantha Burkett’s neatly organized and planned-out life had she ever imagined she would someday be in a situation like this one—at the mercy of a complete stranger, strapped into a helicopter seat, and skimming above a frozen landscape toward some unknown destination.

She had never been so cold in all her twenty-nine years. The only impulsive action she had ever taken in her entire life, and look where it had gotten her. She shivered inside her lightweight jacket. One thing was blatantly obvious—the wilds of Wyoming was no place for a tailored silk pantsuit and Italian leather shoes. She was a long way from Los Angeles and the conference-room protocol of the business world where she efficiently functioned on a daily basis.

An entirely new type of fear churned in the pit of her stomach as she watched the ground rush by beneath them. Even though she was strapped in, her side of the two-seater helicopter had no door. Not only was the cold wind whipping right through her thin clothes, she just knew she was going to fall out. She closed her eyes and made an attempt at swallowing the lump in her throat.

A single tear ran down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. She thought she had cried out every tear that could be squeezed from her body two days ago, when her entire world had come crashing down around her. She shook her head to clear away the bad thoughts. That part of her life was over forever. She had to make a plan for the future. Right now, however, she needed to figure a way out of her current predicament. She took a deep breath, held it for a couple of seconds, then slowly expelled it.

She turned toward the man seated next to her, the man piloting the helicopter. Everything had happened so quickly she had not even gotten a good look at him. One moment she had been on her backside in a snowdrift on a country road, desperately trying to get her car unstuck, and the next moment she found herself slung over this stranger’s shoulder like a sack of flour as he ran toward the waiting helicopter. She had been aware that he was tall, an inch or two above six feet, but everything else was just a blurred impression of a man wearing dark glasses and bundled up in a heavy jacket.

She finally managed to utter a few words, the first attempt at any conversation on either of their parts. “Who are you? Where are you taking me?”

He did not respond to her questions. The loud noise of the engine and the rotor blade drowned out her words and made conversation impossible. She studied him as they flew toward what she assumed would be a small local airport, someplace where she could get help with her car and hopefully find a motel where she could spend the night.

His blond hair was thick and a little long, but it seemed to suit his strong, chiseled features—at least the ones she could see with his jacket collar turned up around his neck and cheeks. His dark glasses prevented her from seeing the color of his eyes. His face was tanned, and his skin seemed to be showing the first signs of the effect of working outdoors in adverse weather conditions. She guessed his age to be mid to late thirties. The way this ruggedly handsome man had picked her up in one easy move and thrown her over his shoulder said he had to be in superb physical condition.

A few minutes later a large ranch house, barn, stables, corral and a cluster of surrounding structures came into sight. Snow had already started falling again when the helicopter touched down next to one of the small buildings. The stranger jumped out of the helicopter and was met by two men who ran from the barn. “See that the copter’s secured real tight, Ben. We’re in for a bad one.”

The older of the two men took charge. “I was getting worried about you, Jace. I was afraid the storm was going to cut you off and leave you grounded out in the middle of nowhere. They say the main thrust is going to hit with a vengeance—Arctic blast of freezing temperatures, strong winds, possibly as much as three feet of snow.”

“We usually get one pre-season snowstorm, sort of nature’s warning that winter is on the way, but nothing like this. I hope it moves on as fast as it came in.” Jace turned toward the ranch house, calling back over his shoulder to Samantha. “Come on, let’s get inside. You must be nearly frozen.”

Before she could respond, he was halfway across the yard. She ran to catch up with him, her progress anything but graceful as she tried to keep from stumbling while running through the snow buildup. This certainly was not an airport, but at that moment the only thing she wanted was to be somewhere warm and dry. She finally caught up with him at the porch of the ranch house. He held open the front door and she hurried inside. She spotted the fireplace and went straight to it, then kicked off her wet shoes and set them on the hearth. Her feet were almost numb with the cold, and her silk pantsuit was undoubtedly ruined. Her teeth chattered, and her hands trembled as she held them out toward the warmth of the flames. She knew she looked more like a rag doll that had just been run through the washing machine than a successful businesswoman.

She sensed his nearness, as if he were standing immediately behind her. Even with her back to him she could feel his eyes on her. She wanted to attribute the odd sensation that shivered across her nape to the cold, but she knew it was not that simple. She turned around. He stood not more than four feet from her.

He had taken off his dark glasses. She stared up into intelligent silver eyes that peered intently at her, seemingly studying her every move. Something about this imposing stranger reached out and grabbed her as nothing ever had before, and she did not understand it. The odd sensation that slowly spread through her entire body had a downright sensual feel about it. There had to be a rational explanation for what was happening. She was a sensible, logical person. Unfortunately, there was nothing sensible or logical about the very real attraction she felt toward him.

She glanced quickly around the room, then returned her attention to the man who continued to stare at her. “Who are you? Where am I? Why have you brought me here?” She caught the undertone of apprehension that came out in her voice even though she tried to control it. “This certainly isn’t an airport.”

“My name’s Jace Tremayne and this is my ranch. We’re here because the storm was closing in around us and I needed to get home before we were cut off and forced to land in the middle of a pasture.” He blatantly looked her up and down. “I think you’d better get out of those clothes.”

She felt her eyes widen in shock. Had she understood him correctly? Had he brought her to an isolated ranch just so he could tell her to take off her clothes? She swallowed the nervousness that tried to climb out of her stomach as she took a step backward. “Uh...excuse me?”

“Your clothes...they’re wet and you’ve been out in the cold air. You need to get dry and warm or else you’ll end up sick.” He pointed down the hallway. “The second door on the right is a guest room with a private bathroom. You might want to take a hot bath, too. It’ll help you warm up. You’ll find clean towels in the cupboard.”

He seemed oblivious to the momentary anxiety his comments had caused her. Perhaps she had read far more into what he said than was really there. The logical assumption would be that she had simply overreacted to his specific words due to the uneasiness caused by her sudden and unexpected attraction to him. Yes. that had to be it. She felt a desperate need to bring some type of logical control to what was happening, and felt satisfied with her assessment of the situation. Unfortunately her physical attraction to him did not fit as comfortably as her rationalization did.

His comment about her wet clothes had been correct, though. “That’s...uh...very generous of you, lending me your guest room.”

The first thing Jace had noticed about her was that her clothing wasn’t suited to cattle country and was totally inappropriate for the weather. There was no question that she was completely out of her element. There was also no question that despite her disarray she was a pleasure to look at. He was even willing to admit that she was beautiful, an honest beauty that reached out and grabbed him.

He could also admit that he found her an incredibly desirable woman, if he were willing to be that honest with himself. He shoved the thoughts aside. He did not have time for idle speculation of a personal nature. Besides, the direction of those thoughts made him decidedly uncomfortable.

“I certainly appreciate the offer of a hot bath, but I don’t have any dry clothes to put on. My suitcase is still in the trunk of my car.” She wasn’t sure whether to be angry with him for literally abducting her without even one word of explanation or grateful to him for rescuing her from what was obviously a bad situation. She tried to suppress her irritation. “You grabbed me and forced me into your helicopter so quickly that I didn’t have an opportunity to get it.”

“You were obviously in trouble, so I did what needed to be done. There wasn’t time to debate the issue.”

Her moment of concern no longer seemed appropriate. She did not sense any feeling of personal danger, at least not physical danger.

“Wait here.” Jace turned and walked away. Now she really didn’t know what to do or think. A couple of minutes later he returned and handed her a thick terry cloth bathrobe. “Here, you can put this on until your clothes dry.” She accepted it, folding it across her arm.

A stern look crossed his face, and his voice took on a hard edge. “I have lots to do before the brunt of this storm hits, but when I get back you can tell me what the hell you were doing driving around the back roads in a snowstorm dressed like you were going to some uptown art gallery. Didn’t you even bother to listen to a weather forecast before you took your leisurely drive through the countryside with your common sense stuck up your CD player? You’re lucky I spotted you, otherwise you’d be in real serious trouble.”

“What?” His unexpected—and what she considered unfounded—verbal attack slapped across her senses and brought out her defensive anger. “I was hardly taking a leisurely afternoon drive in the country. I—” If the truth were known, that was pretty much what she had been doing. She had been mindlessly and blindly driving without any thought to where she was going and no purpose to her actions. She was not even sure when or why she had decided to get off the interstate. She had been totally oblivious to her surroundings. It was something she had never done before and was not about to admit to this very disconcerting stranger.

He stood tall with his arms folded across the front of his heavy jacket. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, but maintained his stern expression. “You were...what?”

She rubbed her hand across the back of her neck as she tried to calm her inner jitters. “I...had gotten lost. I was disoriented by the storm and was trying to find my way back to the main highway.”

He displayed a smug why am I not surprised expression that carried over into his tone of voice. “Humph! Just like a woman—no sense of direction.”

Her temper flared. “Exactly what do you mean by ‘just like a woman’? What are you, one of those chauvinistic types who think the womenfolk should stick to the cleaning and cooking and not try to do anything complicated like compete in the world of big business because that’s men’s work?”

He blatantly looked her up and down again. “I can only go by what I see standing in front of me...woman dressed in a silk suit with fancy shoes and a lightweight jacket in the middle of a snowstorm who doesn’t even know where she is.”

She felt herself losing the battle, but had to give it one last try. “I knew where I was before you grabbed me off the road and took me somewhere in a helicopter. You didn’t even bother to ask me if I needed help. You simply took it upon yourself to decide that you knew best!”

“I thought you just said you were lost and trying to find your way back to the main highway.” Again the smug look covered his features. “I guess I must have misunderstood you. So, just where were you headed when your superb sense of direction put you on a country road and buried you in the snow?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew she should not have said them. They sounded too harsh, too defensive. They also sounded downright rude and very ungrateful. After all, she had been stranded on a back road and stuck in the snow. She should be thanking him for saving her, not being antagonistic.

She glanced down at the floor, took a calming breath, then recaptured his gaze. “Look...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. This whole thing has been a very unnerving experience for me. I’m not accustomed to dealing with chaos and disorder. I don’t like being forced into making snap decisions. I prefer to have things carefully planned out. I had been visiting...uh...a friend and...well, things didn’t—”

She felt the shiver across her nape. Again she was certain that it had nothing to do with being wet and cold. Everything about this Jace Tremayne—his words, his decisive actions, even his body language—said he was a very dynamic man. Overbearing, arrogant and chauvinistic, but very dynamic. He also radiated a tantalizing sex appeal that he did not seem to even be aware of.

His attitude softened a little bit. “Do you need to call anyone to let them know you’re all right? Any family members who might be worried?” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “The friend you were visiting... or perhaps your husband?”

A couple of days ago she would have called Jerry Kensington. But now... “No, there’s no one I need to call.” She tried to shake away the sudden feeling of despair that threatened to overwhelm her. She looked up at him. Once again his silver eyes seemed to be attempting to penetrate through to her inner soul. She glanced down at the floor, unable to hold his gaze any longer for fear he could read her every thought and feeling.

He pointed down the hallway, once again indicating the guest room. “The second door on the right.”

Samantha opened her mouth to speak, but his actions stopped her words when he turned and walked out the front door. Just what had she gotten herself into? She certainly had not made any provisions for this strange turn of events when she had originally formulated her travel plans. A cold shiver darted through her body, reminding her of her wet clothes and need of a hot bath.

She carried the robe with her as she headed toward the guest room, pausing for a moment to look out a window. Large snowflakes filled the air and the wind had picked up considerably. She saw Jace disappear across the yard toward the barn. She pursed her lips, and a slight frown wrinkled across her brow as she turned away from the window. He had certainly pulled her out of a very precarious situation, but had he deposited her into an even more perilous one?

She was acutely aware of the totally out-of-character thoughts and feelings he stirred in her. She found him aggravating, he and his snap decisions made without benefit of proper thought and planning. But there was more, much more. She was far from being a prude, but the way he made her insides quiver with excitement was something beyond her logical reasoning. She had certainly never experienced that same type of excitement with Jerry Kensington. She glanced out the window again.

The whole idea was preposterous. Jace Tremayne was in no way representative of what her ideal man should be: a professional man; someone who carefully scheduled his activities; someone whose life was planned out and knew what he would be doing five years from now; someone who thrived on the stimulation provided by city life. In short, nothing like what she had observed of Jace Tremayne.

While his unexpected guest thawed out, Jace had several duties to handle. So why was he standing in the barn staring back at the house and making no effort to move? He did not know where this woman had come from or why she had been out on the road. He did not even know her name.

He did know that she was argumentative, stubborn and overly opinionated. He also knew she was hiding something. He could see it in her eyes, in the way certain things made her nervous. She was a strong and assertive woman, yet he sensed a vulnerability—a carefully hidden side that she tried not to show. He was also aware that she possessed the very real ability to slice right through to the center of his most heated desires, seemingly without even being aware of it. The realization left him decidedly unnerved.

He relaxed his tensed nerves and allowed a slight grin to tug at the corners of his mouth. Her angry accusation about him being a chauvinist, who thought a woman’s place was cooking and cleaning, amused him. His wife had been a creative, independent woman. They had met when she’d marched up to his front door and informed him that she was researching a book about the history of Wyoming and it would not be complete without information about his family, since they figured prominently. He’d told her there was plenty of information in the University library, but she had refused to take no for an answer.

Her death had hit him very hard. His own life had been so empty for the past four years. Work had kept him busy, but it hadn’t erased the hollow feeling that had lived inside him from the day his wife of only two years died of injuries incurred in an automobile accident. She had been three months pregnant with their first child. To compensate for the loss, he’d thrown himself into the needs of the ranch, putting in long hard hours. His unceasing efforts had paid off with material rewards, but his deepest emotions had remained locked away where they could not be trampled on again.

Then one stormy day this woman appeared from out of nowhere and intruded into his life. Even though their meeting was abrupt, the circumstances unusual and their contact best described as adversarial, she had certainly managed to arouse his long-dormant libido. For the first time in four years he felt a strong physical attraction to a woman—a woman he knew was totally wrong for him.

He allowed a slight furrow of his brow as he glanced down at the ground. It bothered him that she did not have anyone to call, that there was no one who would be worried about her. The hurt that had shown in her eyes also bothered him. Perhaps she, too, had suffered a very personal tragedy in her life, just as he had.

“The copter’s tied down. Should be okay.”

Jace shifted his attention to the medium-sized man in his early forties who had just come in the side door of the barn. Ben Downey was his ranch foreman. Jace was thankful for the interruption that put a halt to his thoughts about his very attractive houseguest, the ones that were starting to turn decidedly personal. “Good...thanks. Why don’t you check here in the barn to make sure everything is securely fastened, and I’ll make another pass through the stables. Have one of the boys pile extra firewood in the bins at the bunkhouse and ranch house. Have Vince check the emergency generator, make sure it’s ready to go on-line. It could be days before this storm clears. If it’s bad enough, the power lines could snap again like they did three years ago.”

Samantha emerged from the guest room an hour later, half that time having been spent soaking in a hot bath and trying her best not to think about the sensual thrill that tingled through her body whenever Jace Tremayne drew close to her. She had to keep telling herself that she would be leaving his ranch very soon, and the physical excitement he stirred in her would thankfully be put to rest.

She snuggled inside the bathrobe he had given her, having left her damp clothes hanging in the bathroom to finish drying. The robe belonged to a woman, but was at least three sizes too large for her. The texture of the terry cloth against her bare skin heightened her awareness of her nudity beneath the robe. She tightened the sash around her waist, then padded barefoot down the carpeted hallway to the living room seeking out the added warmth of the fireplace.

It was the first time she had relaxed since getting off the plane in Denver and driving to her fiancé’s house. She had been engaged to Jerry Kensington for almost a year, even though they lived a thousand miles apart. She had insisted on a two-year engagement. She believed that was the sensible and logical thing to do. It would give them a proper amount of time to discover any possible difficulties in their relationship, and plan out their future.

The past two months, however, had been difficult ones for her. In spite of all her careful planning, she’d had the feeling that something was wrong. What bothered her the most was that she did not feel as upset about that possibility as she should have. She had refused to deal with the fact that perhaps she did not love Jerry, at least not enough to sustain a marriage commitment.

Her trip to Denver was as much to clarify her own feelings as to see Jerry. He continually chided her about being too structured and compulsive, about having to plan out every facet of her life. She had eagerly anticipated his look of surprise followed by exclamations of pleasure at her impulsive decision to make the trip.

The image of what had really occurred came rushing back to her. The shocked expression that had covered Jerry’s face when he opened his front door had not been one of pleasure. His dark hair was bedroom tousled and he wore a hastily thrown-on robe. He had stammered awkwardly while blocking her entrance to the house. Then she had seen the reason why. The woman who had casually strolled out of his bedroom was dressed in one of his T-shirts. It was barely long enough to reach her upper thighs and she obviously had nothing on underneath it.

Samantha had seen the guilt in his eyes, but his embarrassment had clearly come from having been caught, rather than any regrets about his actions. She had turned and walked away, and Jerry Kensington had made no attempt to stop her. She had never in her life felt as betrayed as she had at that moment...or as alone.

That was two days ago. Since then she had driven aimlessly through Colorado and into Wyoming until she had become stranded in the middle of nowhere, plucked out of a snowstorm by a stranger in a helicopter and whisked away to a ranch. She had no idea where she was, other than somewhere in Wyoming. Her life had always been so organized, structured and carefully controlled. She had no practical experience dealing with turmoil or unplanned events.

She also had no practical experience with the way Jace made her feel. The physical side of her relationship with Jerry Kensington had been carefully planned, too...just the type of predictability she thought she had wanted. But it was also dull. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she had wished he would just once do something exciting to surprise her. She knew that was an absolute contradiction to everything she had professed to want out of life, but she couldn’t stop the thought.

She carefully took in her current surroundings. It was a large, comfortable room that gave the impression of many happy family gatherings over the years. She felt a moment of sadness. Happy family gatherings had not been part of her childhood. And now, after that disastrous and humiliating scene with her fiancé—she corrected herself: Jerry Kensington was now her exfiancé—it did not look as though they would be part of her future, either.

She straightened her posture and squared her shoulders as she forced a new determination. It was obvious that being in a relationship—marriage and a family—was not to be. She would throw herself into her career and concentrate on being a success in the business world. It would guarantee her a comfortable future. That should be enough. Being stuck at this ranch was only a minor interruption of her plan. She would make the best of it for the short duration of her stay, then return to Los Angeles as soon as the weather cleared.

A cold blast of air whipped in as Jace came through the front door. He stomped his boots on the floor mat to knock away the snow, pulled off his gloves and removed his heavy jacket. Then his gaze fell on the mystery lady. There was something very appealing about the way the large robe enclosed her body—and very enticing. He cleared his mind of the inappropriate thoughts and crossed the room to the fireplace. “Did you find everything you need?”

“Yes, thank you.” She turned up the collar of the robe, then nervously tugged at the sash, pulling it tighter around her waist. “I sure appreciate the use of this robe.” His nearness sent little tingles across her bare skin and a flush of heat across her cheeks. She lowered her gaze to the floor, too embarrassed to meet the silvery shimmer of his eyes any longer. She tried to calm the nervous excitement that welled inside her.

“The robe belongs to Helen. I’ll pass on your appreciation.” He could not stop the surge of desire that rushed through him.

Her voice quavered slightly, attesting to a nervousness. “Helen? Who is she?”

He paid an undue amount of attention to the fire in an effort to dismiss the very real physical allure that continued to tug at his consciousness. “Helen Downey. She’s the housekeeper and cook. Her son, Ben, is my ranch foreman.”

Samantha looked around, searching for the owner of the robe. “Is she here? I’d like to thank her for the considerate gesture.”

“Nope. Helen’s in Florida visiting her daughter.” Jace stared at his houseguest for an uncomfortable moment. She smelled of soap and radiated a scrubbed freshness. She stood about five foot six. Her short, chestnut-colored hair feathered softly around her face, accentuating her delicate features. Her neatly pedicured toes peeked out from beneath the long robe.

Another hard jolt of desire stabbed at his insides, then reverberated through his body. He did not even know her name. He had not asked, and she had not volunteered the information. It made the whole thing seem strangely exciting, almost like some sort of clandestine rendezvous designed strictly for lascivious pleasure without any strings or emotional attachments.

His disconcerting stare caused little tremors to form inside her body. She took a calming breath and tried her best to project a businesslike outer persona while attempting to regain control of the situation. “I’m afraid we sort of got off on the wrong foot. I’ve been very inconsiderate in not introducing myself. My name is Samantha Burkett and I’m from Los Angeles.” She held out her hand toward him. “And you said you’re Jace Tremayne?” The moment their hands clasped together she felt the outdoors cold that lingered on his skin. But underneath that exterior was a very human warmth that radiated a soft glow and sent a sensual little tingle up her arm.

“Tremayne...” He had not released her hand from his grasp nor had she withdrawn it. “I remember seeing a large gated entrance with the name Tremayne above it, and I think Tremayne Road was where I had turned just before skidding into that snowdrift. Is that you?”

“That was my great-great-grandfather. He settled on this land and started the ranch shortly after the Union Pacific Railroad was established here, several years before Wyoming was even a state. The ranch’s primary business has always been the raising of beef cattle, but my father expanded into other areas when he granted some mining leases on the northern acreage about twenty-five years ago.”

“I’ve always lived in a large city, and I don’t really know anything about ranching. In fact, I’ve never even been on a ranch before, or a farm, either. It would seem to me to be an isolated type of lifestyle. How far are you from a real city?”

The warmth lingered even after he withdrew his hand, but the soft glow quickly disappeared as his eyes narrowed before he responded to her question. “A real city? As opposed to what? Oh, yes. You’re from Los Angeles...obviously a real city. However, your car had Colorado license plates.”

She caught the edge of sarcasm in his voice. His statement sounded more like an accusation than a comment. “It’s a rental from the Denver airport. I picked it up a couple of days ago.”

Jace cocked his head, a quizzical expression spreading across his face. “You flew from Los Angeles to Denver, rented a car and then drove out into a snowstorm dressed in a silk suit? Do you always set out on such harebrained and foolhardy escapades?”

He may have been a momentary knight in shining armor whose charging white steed was realty a helicopter, but that did not give him the right to pry into her personal life. She made no effort to hide her irritation. “I’m not an irrational person, and I’ve never done an impulsive thing in my—” Well, she couldn’t say that anymore. It was her one and only impulsive action that had gotten her into this mess.

She nervously played with the gold chain around her neck. “I’m a professional businesswoman and am accustomed to dressing in a businesslike manner.”

The hint of sarcasm she had noticed earlier in his voice had intensified. “Oh? And just what is it you do in that professional businesswoman capacity of yours while living in a real city?”

He seemed to be baiting her, and she did not understand why. “I work for a consulting firm. I do time-and-motion studies for large corporations to help them run their operations more efficiently.”

He could not stop his total surprise from coming through. “You’re an efficiency expert?” He quickly regained his composure. “Then you should have done a more efficient job of planning your trip.” He wasn’t sure why he had taken such a harsh attitude with her. It was not his nature to be sarcastic or argumentative. There was something very disconcerting about this woman, something that aroused his most basic desires, and it made him uncomfortable. He tried to alleviate his concerns by reminding himself that she was just passing through and would be leaving as soon as possible to return to the real city—a place that apparently suited her lifestyle.

She glared at him. “I might have acted foolishly, even a bit impetuously, but that doesn’t make me an empty-headed ditz, and I’d appreciate it if you would remember that!” She stood with her hands on her hips, making an obvious effort to look as tough as possible. “I certainly owe you my gratitude for pulling me out of a difficult situation, but I resent your insinuation that I’ve got a screw loose!”


Two

Jace could not stop the smile from spreading across his face, then he broke out into an uninhibited laugh that filled the room with warmth and fun. Maybe it was the way she stood glaring at him, trying her best to be all hard edges and cold steel, when in fact she was soft curves and warm flesh.

Samantha blinked a couple of times, then stared at him in disbelief. “What do you find so funny, Mr. Tremayne?”

“It’s Jace. Please...call me Jace.”

His smile was so infectious that her anger drained away, leaving her feeling a little foolish...and confused. “All right...Jace.” She wasn’t sure what to say or how to proceed. She returned a somewhat shy smile, then glanced around the room again. “This is a nice house. Has it been here from the time of your great-great-grandfather?”

“The central core of the house, this room and three others, are about 120 years old. There have been several additions and upgrades over the years, resulting in this large, rambling structure.”

“I live in a small apartment.” She looked up at him. Her gaze locked with his. She experienced a shortness of breath and her words became hesitant, “It...it must be very nice to have so much room for you and your family.” It had been an innocent statement on her part. She hadn’t consciously given any thought as to whether Jace Tremayne was married.

No—that was certainly not true. She had noticed as soon as he had removed his gloves that he wore no wedding ring. She’d also been aware of the lack of family things in the house. There were old photographs of people she assumed to be family members, but nothing to indicate a wife and children. And then there was the robe. It belonged to his housekeeper, not his wife.

Jace nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I...uh...my family doesn’t live here. There is the full-time ranch staff, of course. And Helen...and Ben. My parents...the winters got to be too much for them...and, uh...well, they live in Scottsdale, Arizona.” What was there about Samantha Burkett that caused him to suddenly start stammering like some sort of adolescent schoolboy? He felt the irritation spreading inside him. He had never had that problem before and he did not like the feeling.

“I think the fire could use some more wood.” It was a minor diversion, but one he desperately needed. He grabbed a couple of logs and added them in the fireplace.

He turned back to face Samantha. He felt awkward asking the question of a total stranger, especially considering the very real physical desire that had been constantly tugging at his consciousness ever since her arrival, but reality had to be dealt with and the storm outside was the reality of the moment. “You do know that you’ll have to stay here overnight, don’t you? Maybe even longer.”

Jace saw the objection forming on her face and the uncertainty in her hazel eyes that quickly changed to concern as she took a step backward. He spoke in a very matter-of-fact tone. “No point in you accepting or rejecting the idea. It’s out of your hands...and out of my hands, too. The weather dictates. Right now all but the main highway is shut down and it looks like that could be shut down, at any time. With the winds kicking up the way they are, taking the copter up is not an option.”

A sudden jolt of apprehension hit Samantha. She didn’t want it to sound as if she were accusing him of improper behavior, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about staying overnight in a house alone with him, especially in light of the unexpected attraction she felt toward him. “You...uh...said your housekeeper, Helen, is visiting her daughter in Florida? Are you the only ones who live in this house? I mean, it’s such a large house for only two people. Don’t any of the other employees...” She was not sure how to finish her sentence.

“The ranch hands live in the bunkhouse. It’s not as austere as it sounds. Unlike the picture presented in the movies and on television, it’s actually more akin to a college dorm. There are bedrooms with two people to a room, plus a central living-dining room and a kitchen. It’s really quite comfortable.”

“Well, that’s certainly different from what I would have thought.” The anxiety still flitted around inside her stomach. It looked as if it would be just the two of them in the house after all.

“You seem to be uncomfortable,” Jace said. “Let me assure you that you’re perfectly safe—”

“Oh, no...it’s not that. I certainly didn’t mean to imply—” Embarrassment cut off her words as she turned back toward the fire. She didn’t have a problem talking with people, even complete strangers. Being able to communicate information was part of her job. So why was she having so much difficulty talking with Jace Tremayne? And exactly what was her problem? Perhaps her concerns were not with Jace’s behavior, but rather with her own desires and curiosities about this incredibly sexy man.

Samantha stared at the flames in the fireplace. She’d been totally unprepared for any of the happenings that had occurred since she left Los Angeles. Spur-of-the-moment decisions and snap judgments were not part of her life. She needed to plan, to research, to gather all the facts and study all available information in order to make an intelligent evaluation and determine a viable procedure. The last few days had presented her with enough unexpected happenings to fill her quota for several years.

And the biggest surprise of all was the way Jace Tremayne made her insides quiver and her pulse race. It was inappropriate, very confusing...and very real. It was also totally absurd. He was a cowboy, a rugged outdoors man—not at all the type of man who would fit into her world. And a cattle ranch in Wyoming was certainly no place for her.

She shoved away the inappropriate thoughts. She was not sure where they had come from, but she wished they would go away. She had nothing in common with him, and that was the end of it.

The front door flew open with a loud crash, sending a blast of cold air through the room. Samantha and Jace both turned to see what was going on.

“I think we’re okay, Jace.” Ben Downey quickly closed the door. He removed his hat and hit it against his leg to knock off the snow, then stomped his boots against the floor mat before venturing into the room. “Denny and George are going to do periodic checks of the barn and henhouse. If the storm cuts off the electricity, we’ll need to get generator power to those incubators as soon as possible or we’ll lose all the chicks.” Ben paused as he stared at Samantha.

Jace quickly made the introductions. “Ben, this is Samantha Burkett. Her car was stuck in the snow. I spotted her just as I made the final pass over the back pasture before heading home. It looks like she’ll be staying here until things clear out. Samantha, this is Ben Downey, my ranch foreman.”

Ben nodded toward Samantha. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. Sorry about the storm putting a hitch in your plans.” Ben returned his attention to Jace and the business at hand. “I need to get some extra supplies transferred from the pantry to the bunkhouse kitchen.” Ben hurried out the door to complete his chores, once again braving the stormy afternoon.

Jace had been thankful for the break in his conversation with Samantha. Her apparent concerns were groundless. Of course she was safe in the house alone with him. But that didn’t mean that a delicious fantasy had not crossed his mind. He hadn’t dated since his wife’s death, nor had he wanted to. He’d finally settled comfortably into a moderately content day-to-day existence. It was not exciting, but then he hadn’t met anyone who excited him...not until now.

As improbable as it seemed, Samantha was definitely that someone. By her own admission she had never been on a ranch and knew nothing of rural life. Her world was silk suits and the big city. So what was there about her that he found so irresistible? Why did he want to take her into his arms and make love to her until they were both too exhausted to move?

It was no good. He needed to elevate his thoughts higher than his belt buckle and move the conversation to safer ground. “I suppose the next order of business is to give you a tour of the house.” Jace waved his arm to encompass all the surrounding area. “This, as you’ve seen, is the living room.” He took her through the dining room, kitchen, den, and finally gestured down the hallway toward the bedrooms. They returned to the living room.

“It’s a very comfortable house. You can tell it’s had many years of love and care,” Samantha said, her sadness working its way to the surface.

She had never lived in a loving home. She had worked hard her entire life in an attempt to make her parents proud of her. No matter how hard she tried, or how much she accomplished, she was never able to elicit even one word of praise from them. She had thought a good marriage might please them. Jerry Kensington had all the credentials they could have wanted—a good family background, a Harvard education, and a successful law practice.

The thought slapped her across the face, startling her with the clarity of the realization. Had that been the only reason she had become engaged to Jerry? Yet another attempt to garner some spark of approval from her parents? Was it possible that she’d never really loved him at all? And then the ultimate question—had she nearly ruined her life by entering a loveless marriage simply to please her parents? It was a very disturbing thought and only went to reinforce her earlier determination—marriage might be all right for other people, but it was not for her. A serious relationship would only get in the way of her career.

She returned her attention to Jace, who glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Make yourself at home. I would imagine you’re probably hungry. Help yourself to whatever you’d like in the kitchen.” He reached for his gloves and heavy jacket. “There’s television and plenty of reading material in the den. I’ve still got a few more hatches to batten down before the day is over.” Before she could reply, he disappeared through the front door.

Hungry. Yes, she certainly was that. It was past three o’clock in the afternoon, and she hadn’t eaten anything since toast, juice and coffee that morning. She also needed to do something about clothes. Her thoughts, and the realization of her physical attraction toward Jace, had made her doubly aware of the fact that she had nothing on beneath the robe he had given her to wear. Her silk suit was already ruined, so tossing it in a clothes dryer with her panties and bra couldn’t possibly do it any more harm.

She located the utility room, put her clothes in the dryer, then wandered back to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator door and stared at the contents. Everything seemed to need some sort of preparation, unlike her own kitchen where things only required minimal heating if even that. She went to the freezer. Perhaps she’d find a frozen entreé of some kind that she could pop into the microwave. Again, nothing of the sort. Then she noticed there was no microwave.

She gave the kitchen a closer inspection. A six-burner stove, large double ovens, bins of flour and sugar, cupboards of staples, shelves of home-canned fruits and vegetables. There was nothing that suited her extremely limited culinary talents. Since her chances of being able to get a pizza delivered to a ranch house in the middle of a snowstorm were decidedly slim, she settled on making a piece of toast and pouring a glass of milk.

As soon as the dryer shut off, she quickly changed back into her clothes. She had been correct: her pants and blouse were ruined, but at least they gave her something to wear. She paused outside the door as she left the guest room, taking a moment to glance down the hallway. Her curiosity overruled her sense of propriety.

She peeked in the other rooms—an office, two other bedrooms and one more bathroom, in addition to the guest room she was using. None of the rooms revealed any hint of a wife or children.

The room at the end of the hall was a master bedroom with fireplace and private bath. The unmade bed, coupled with the pair of jeans and denim shirt draped across the arm of a chair told her the room belonged to Jace. She glanced back toward the front door, then entered his bedroom.

The room itself seemed very comfortable, though it was sparsely decorated with large areas where things should have been but were not, as if they had been removed without being replaced. She hesitantly reached out and touched the bed, then ran her hand across the indentation in one of the pillows. A hot jolt of pure lust shot up her arm. She quickly turned and left the room.

She went to the den in search of a good book to pass the time...and take her mind off the sensual feel of Jace’s bed and the desires it stirred. She paused at a window. The storm had cut off most of the daylight, giving the scene a bleak appearance. Snow blanketed everything and continued to fall without sign of letup. The strong wind plastered it against the side of the house and whipped it into large drifts across the yard. She shivered as she watched the intensity increase with each passing minute.

Two men leaned into the wind as they made their way across the yard, their image obscured by the blowing snow. One of them turned toward the barn and the other turned toward the house. A moment later she heard someone enter through the front door. She returned her attention to the bookshelves lining the walls.

Jace stomped the snow from his boots and hung his hat and jacket on the rack by the door. He headed straight to the fireplace, grabbed a couple more logs and added them to the fire. Everything possible had been done to prepare for the duration of what looked to be a full-scale blizzard. Now it was a matter of attending to the necessary daily ranch chores and hoping the storm didn’t do damage to any of the buildings.

He checked the kitchen and dining room, but did not see Samantha. He rubbed his hands in front of the fire until the chill was gone, then went looking for her. He spotted her in the den. He leaned against the doorjamb and watched her for a moment. She stood on her toes with her arm stretched above her head in an attempt to reach something. His gaze lingered on the fabric of her slacks and the way it caressed the roundness of her bottom.

He took a couple of steps into the room, then paused. He allowed his gaze to travel up to the soft silk that clung to the curve of her breast. The wrinkled and disheveled condition of her clothes could not hide the enticing sight that made his blood course a little faster. He closed his eyes for a moment. He knew he could not continue to stare at her as if she were a hot meal and he hadn’t eaten in four years—regardless of how much his gaze wanted to linger.

He crossed the den and stood behind her. “Let me help you.”

“Oh!” She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her arm. “You startled me. I didn’t hear you come into the room.”

“What is it you’re trying to reach?”

She turned back toward the books and extended her arm, pointing to the object of her interest. “I was trying to get that book.” A tremor of delight suffused her body when she felt him brush against her back and shoulder.

He reached past her and grabbed the tome from the shelf. He felt her warmth, an almost seductive heat that grabbed hold of him and refused to let go. He took a steadying breath as he tried to regain control. He had difficulty getting out the words. “Is there anything else you wanted?”

“No...nothing else.” She turned to face him and found herself so close that their bodies almost touched. His silver eyes captured her just as surely as if he had wrapped her in his embrace. She felt the very real pull of his magnetic sexuality. It nearly took her breath away. No one had ever made her feel that way before, certainly not her ex-fiancé.

He handed her the book, then quickly took a step backward.

Her words were almost a whisper. “Thank you.”

His gaze fell on her mouth for a moment. Her lips slowly parted. Her lower lip quivered slightly as she ran the tip of her tongue across her upper lip in a nervous manner. He swallowed hard, then took another calming breath in an attempt to find some composure. “I’m sorry to have left you on your own like this, but a storm of this magnitude requires extra work. Snow is not uncommon, but a raging blizzard this time of year is unusual. We don’t usually get hit this hard until after Christmas. We could be in for a few rough days.”

She followed his lead by engaging in idle chitchat in an attempt to impose some control on what was happening. “I understand perfectly. I certainly don’t want to be a bother to you. I know you have lots to do.” She felt a shortness of breath caused by his close proximity. She had such a tenuous hold on her soaring desires, and the totally unfamiliar state left her feeling very uncomfortable.

She clutched the book tightly in her hand. The way he continued to look at her did not help matters at all. “I...uh.” She nervously played with the gold chain around her neck. “I just realized that I never properly thanked you for your timely rescue. Everything happened so quickly. My car skidded into a snowdrift, then your helicopter swooped down out of the sky. The next thing I knew I was standing in your living room. I guess it took me a while to catch up with all of it.”

She awkwardly shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “When I looked out the window a few minutes ago and saw the way the snow was coming down and the wind blowing, I realized just how much trouble I would have been in if you hadn’t come along. And your hospitality—” She could not handle being this close to him. She put some more space between them. “I want to do something to repay your kindness.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. “Maybe I could pay for my room and meals...”

Jace experienced a pang of disappointment at the turn of events, but he was glad that she’d decided to put more distance between them. He had been very tempted to pull her into his arms and kiss that very alluring mouth. It was a temptation that had been growing stronger and stronger despite the fact that he didn’t want it to be so.

He quickly recovered and addressed her last comment, just a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. “You want to pay me for your room and meals? This isn’t a boarding house. I guess things are different in Los Angeles and other real cities. This is ranch country. Neighbors help out neighbors. Quite often we are dependent on each other, especially in emergency situations like now. That same courtesy extends to strangers in need, too.”

The shocked look on her face made him regret the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. It wasn’t like him. He was not an argumentative type of person. There was just something about Samantha Burkett that seemed to make him say things totally out of character. It was almost as if he were trying to build a wall between them for fear it would prove much too tempting if he allowed her to get too close.

In the four years since his wife’s death he’d managed to drag himself up from the depths of despair and get on with his life. The first two years had been very difficult, but the past two years had settled into a normal routine that he was able to live with. He’d pretty much resigned himself to the fact that he would never find another special woman who could be part of his life.

One thing was for certain, he was not ready to expose that fragile place that he’d so carefully hidden away. And even if he did eventually take a chance on exposing those emotions, it would not be with someone as totally unsuited as Samantha Burkett. They were from two different worlds and obviously had nothing in common in spite of the fact that she managed to fan the nearly dead embers of his desires into flames.

Samantha was totally taken aback by his abrupt change in attitude. “I...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m accustomed to taking care of myself and paying my own way without depending on others. I didn’t want you to think I was a freeloader. Perhaps there’s something I could do to help out.”

“Well...I am a little shorthanded with Helen gone. Maybe you could fill in on some of her chores.” It wasn’t that he actually needed her help, but he thought it might give her something to do to occupy her time until the storm lifted. Then she would be on her way. As abruptly as she’d appeared, she would just as quickly be gone. They’d remain two people totally unsuited for each other, whose paths happened to momentarily cross one stormy day. Nothing more.

“Uh...yes, of course.” She glanced down at the floor, then recaptured his gaze and extended her best professional smile. “I’m not sure how much of a help I’ll be, but I’m certainly willing to try. In fact, why don’t I start right now by making some coffee? I’m sure this type of cold day calls for something hot to drink, especially after working outside the way you have been.”

“While you’re doing that, I’m going to put on some dry clothes.” Jace hurried down the ball to his bedroom, closed the door, then leaned back against it. He expelled a long, slow breath. A line from the movie Casablanca immediately leaped to mind. He changed it slightly to fit his own personal inner turmoil. Qf all the back reads in the county, why did she have to get stuck on mine?

Samantha carried the book to the guest room and placed it on the night stand. She would read it later. Right now she had other things to do. In the kitchen— certainly not her favorite room and not where she displayed her greatest proficiency. She squared her shoulders, clenched her jaw and marched determinedly down the hall and through the living room. She repeated the words over and over in her mind, I can do this...I can do this.

She carefully measured out the proper amount of coffee from the canister, then added the water and turned on the coffeepot. Next she set out two cups and saucers. She found a sugar bowl, then poured some milk into a cream pitcher. She arranged everything on the table, along with napkins and a spoon next to his coffee cup. She didn’t know if he took cream or sugar in his coffee, but she wanted to make sure she was prepared for the eventuality. She stood back and surveyed the scene with a critical eye. She knew it was only coffee, but she wanted to make sure she had not forgotten anything.

“Samantha?” Jace’s voice came from the living room moments later.

She heard him call her name, and a fraction of a second later the butterflies began to flit around inside her stomach. She took a calming breath, then called out to him. “In the kitchen.”

“Did you find everything okay?” He walked directly to the cupboard and took out a mug without even glancing at the table she had so painstakingly prepared. He grabbed the pot and filled the mug. He took one sip of the coffee, held it in his mouth for a moment, then finally swallowed it. He stared into the mug and scrunched his face into a disagreeable frown before looking quizzically at Samantha. “What is this stuff?”

“It’s coffee.” She didn’t have a clue what had prompted his question and strange behavior. “What did you think it was?”

He dumped the contents of the mug, picked up the pot and poured the rest of the coffee down the drain.

She rushed to the sink, watched the coffee swirl down the drain, then stared up at him. Her bewilderment carried over into the tone of her voice. “What’s wrong? What do you think you’re doing?”

He threw away the used coffee grounds and started anew. “I’m making coffee. That stuff you made could more aptly be referred to as tea.”

“Wait just a minute...” She felt the anger flush across her cheeks. “There was nothing wrong with that coffee. That’s the way I always make it and I’ve never had any complaints before.”

“Well, maybe your friends are ultrapolite or maybe they’ve never had to warm up after being out in a blizzard. Either way, coffee has to be a lot stronger than this barely tinted hot water of yours.”

“Strong coffee is not good for the system. Studies show—”

He whirled around to face her. “Studies aren’t going to warm me up after being outdoors in a subzero windchill factor.”

She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice, but it crept in anyway. “This falls within the realm of my area of expertise. Studies of the coffee-drinking habits of office workers clearly show—”

His retort was immediate and emphatic. “Running a ranch does not have a parallel connection to working in an office. It’s like comparing horses and cattle. They may both be four-legged animals, but that doesn’t mean they’re interchangeable in their uses.”

Her anger flared. She glowered at him as she jumped on what she felt was his unwarranted criticism. “Your horses and cows don’t have a thing to do with—”

He moved so quickly that Samantha didn’t have time to react. One minute they were engaged in a disagreement that could have turned into a full-scale argument, and the next minute his mouth covered hers with a heated intensity unlike anything she had ever before experienced—a heated intensity that was at the same time strangely hesitant and unsure, a heated intensity that tasted of longing and loneliness as much as desire.

Her first reaction was to pull away from him, even though his attentions were far from being unwanted. It was all so sudden, so startling, so unplanned...and so very exciting. His warmth flowed through her, providing her with a taste of the passion that existed beneath the cool exterior of Jace Tremayne. She lifted her arms around his neck. Then she felt herself being pulled into his embrace.

There was a strength about him that came from the security of knowing who he was and being content with that knowledge. He was a man who knew what he wanted out of life and where he was going. It was the type of strength she had longed for, the type of strength that had eluded her in her drive to please her parents, the type of strength she had not found in the person of Jerry Kensington. It was an honesty she found very appealing... and incredibly sexy.


Three

It would be difficult to say which one broke off the kiss, Jace or Samantha. They seemed to each pull back at the same time. For a long moment they stood together, still entwined in an embrace. The howling wind faded into the background. An almost deafening silence filled the air, broken only by the sound of breathing. Each seemed to be lost in the depths of the other’s eyes, looking into the soul in search of...of what? Then reality intruded into the moment and the spell was broken.

Samantha stepped away, coming to an abrupt halt when she backed up against the edge of the kitchen sink. There was no question that the kiss had a very disconcerting effect on her. Her heart pounded. She fought against the shortness of breath that tried to take hold. All the while his silvery-eyed gaze held her as close as his arms had just moments earlier. She didn’t know what to say to him about what had just happened. He might have been the one to take her by surprise, but she was every bit as willing a participant as he had been.

She forced her gaze away, glancing out the window at the raging storm. Daylight had faded into gray remnants that would soon be night The next logical thing would be to fix dinner. That was what she needed to do. She needed to bring a logical order to these unquestionably illogical proceedings. That kiss never happened. It was the best way for her to handle the awkward situation.

“Well...” Her voice cracked as she tried to speak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s almost dinnertime.”

“Yes, it’s almost dinnertime.” The huskiness surrounding his words belied his cool and calm exterior. “I have some paperwork to take care of, shouldn’t take me more than half an hour. When I’m done, I’ll see about getting some dinner on the table.”

She immediately jumped in, eager to change the tone of what had been happening. “Let me do it. I can fix dinner while you’re taking care of your business.”

“You don’t need to. Unless you’re starving and can’t wait, I’ll take care of it in a little while.”

“Really, I don’t mind. I’d like to contribute something.” She could feel herself getting in over her head. but she did not seem to be able to stop the words. “I don’t mind preparing dinner.”

“Well...if you’re sure you don’t mind.” He wanted to get out of the room and away from her. He needed to remove himself from her presence before he did something foolish again.

He turned toward the kitchen door. “I’ll be in my office if you need me...I mean, if you need anything.” He hurried out of the room without waiting for any response from her.

As much as Jace wanted to take her in his arms again, to taste the sweetness of that delectable mouth, he knew it was out of the question. He also knew that a quick retreat was the only thing that would prevent him from doing just that. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the memory of her body pressed against his to wash over him. When he woke that morning, all he’d had to look forward to was extra work preparing for a freak blizzard. It never occurred to him that a simple little thing like pulling a stranded motorist out of the snow could cause him all this inner turmoil, but it had.

He made a decision. The best way for him to handle things was to simply pretend the kiss never happened. He would take care of his paperwork, have dinner, then go to bed early and read for a while. The morning would be a new day, and with any luck the storm would have spent its fury. And when the storm moved on, so would Samantha. She would return to her world and her lifestyle, and he would get on with life. He sat at his desk, turned on the computer and pulled up the file he needed.

In the dining room, Samantha placed the water glasses on the table, then surveyed the setting with a critical eye. What she saw met with her satisfaction. Next she turned her attention to the meal itself. A shudder ran up her back, the sign of apprehension that always appeared whenever she attempted to do something she knew was totally out of her area of expertise. Why in the world had she volunteered to fix dinner of all things? It was stupid for her to have made such an irrational offer, but to have followed it up by insisting...well, it was too late now.

Returning to the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator and stared at the contents. She was not sure where to begin. A salad. She knew she could handle that without any trouble. She found a nice selection of ingredients—lettuce, tomatoes, mushrooms and bean sprouts. She had also seen some croutons in a cupboard earlier that day. She took a salad bowl from the shelf, then washed the vegetables.

After twenty minutes of careful, conscientious work she had an attractive salad on the table along with formal dinner place settings. She pursed her lips and frowned as she continued to stare. She could be happy with a salad for dinner, but she knew a hardworking rancher would be needing something a lot more substantial than that.

She again stared at the contents of the refrigerator. The only meat she saw that was not frozen was a chicken—a whole chicken that had not been cut into individual pieces. She grabbed the package and set it on the counter. She had never even attempted to cut up a chicken before. She picked up a sharp knife, hesitated a moment, then put it down. She clenched her jaw in determination. For some insane and totally unfathomable reason she had volunteered to fix dinner, and that was what she intended to do. She picked up the knife again.

Jace printed out a report then turned off the computer. He had stalled long enough. There was nothing left for him to do but return to the kitchen. He pushed back from the desk, rose from his chair, took a deep breath and left the room.

He paused at the kitchen door. Samantha had a knife in one hand and a chicken in the other. He wasn’t sure exactly what she was trying to accomplish, but whatever it was, she was making a mess of it. If he didn’t stop the disaster, there wouldn’t be enough of the bird left to serve as dinner for even one person, let alone two people.

Jace crossed the room and took the knife from her, pausing a moment to use the blade to poke at the heap on the cutting board. “What in the world do you think you’re doing?” He suppressed a little chuckle. “You’ve hacked at this poor bird until it’s almost unrecognizable.”

She looked at her miserable attempt, then back at Jace. To have taken offense at his accusation would have been a waste of time. The evidence was obvious, his statement could not be denied. A hint of embarrassment surrounded her words. “I—I’ve never had to do this before. The ones in the grocery store are already cut up.”

“What were you planning to do with this poor chicken after you finished torturing it?” He noticed that she had selected the wrong type of knife, so he retrieved the proper one from the drawer and expertly separated the thighs from the legs and split the breast in two.

“I—I’m not sure. I guess cook it...somehow. Maybe in...uh...well, there’s the oven.” She made a feeble gesture toward the stove, then shrugged in a halfhearted manner that said she clearly did not have any sort of a plan in mind. In an attempt to salvage whatever credibility she could, she pointed to the table in the dining room. “I made a salad.”

“So I see.” He also saw that the table was set for a dinner party, not for dinner. She had made a salad but had nearly destroyed a chicken. He folded his arms across his chest and leveled an appraising look at her while doing his best to hide his amusement.

Samantha steeled herself against Jace’s penetrating gaze. She made her living with her communication skills. Her strengths centered on her ability to analyze a problem and pinpoint an efficient and logical solution. However, this one had her stumped. She had nowhere to go and no viable excuse to offer. She had only the truth, as mortifying as it was. She looked at him, squared her shoulders, took a determined breath, then blurted out, “I can’t cook. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.” She glanced around the kitchen, then returned her attention to Jace. “Maybe if you had a microwave...”

He stared at her for a moment, disbelief covering his face. “You don’t know how to cook?”

“I’ve never had occasion or the time to learn. I’ve been too busy, first with school and then with my career.” She tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to keep the edge of irritation out of her voice. “The fact that I’m a woman doesn’t mean I was born with a fully realized set of domestic skills.”





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