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Expecting The Rancher's Child
Sara Orwig


The rich rancher’s irresistible offer… Only from USA TODAY bestselling author Sara Orwig!From the moment they met, their intense attraction has been off the charts. It’s rendered Blake Callahan’s judgment inoperative. Because the billionaire rancher has offered millions to lure Sierra Benson away from her charity organization to work for him. The offer’s just too good for the former designer to refuse.Working together at Blake’s ranch, there’s no escaping the powerful desire that draws them closer. But Blake’s driven by his need for revenge against his father, while Sierra is all about helping those in need. So how will they bridge their differences when Sierra discovers she’s pregnant?









While he drove, he thought about Sierra Benson.


Blake had been startled by their chemistry. He had overreacted by offering so much money, but when had a woman ever set his pulse pounding by merely saying hello?

Her stay at his ranch should be interesting. Maybe their attraction was something that only happened at a first meeting and wouldn’t happen again. But with the smoldering chemistry between them, he couldn’t keep from dreaming of seduction.

Dream on, he thought.

She was wrapped up in saving the world. She looked at everything through rose-colored glasses and saw everyone as filled with a basic goodness—which was not reality. This was a lesson he had learned early in life. Eventually, Sierra would learn that not everyone could be saved and all her sweet talk would be a memory. That was human nature.

No, she was not his type in any way—except for that hot, intense, mutual attraction. A scalding attraction he intended to pursue in spite of their differences.

* * *

Expecting the Rancher’s Child is part of the Callahan’s Clan series: A wealthy Texas family finds love under the Western skies!




Expecting the

Rancher’s Child

Sara Orwig







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


SARA ORWIG lives in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere, from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara has written historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.


Many thanks to Stacy Boyd, Charles Griemsman and Tahra Seplowin

Thank you to Maureen Walters and Tess Callero

With thanks also to Jon Craig for answers for That Night with the Rich Rancher

With love to my family


Contents

Cover (#u4e19b689-2428-52a4-9665-c0e2950cee7a)

Introduction (#u1f43defc-aafb-5014-a71a-114a6161d3d5)

Title Page (#u88cab951-a4f7-5f8c-aaa6-04076bf4231c)

About the Author (#u3426e258-9158-5012-95bc-a4a7603a492b)

Dedication (#ufd2fd816-9e03-5ff0-8819-24bb94a7ef5d)

One (#u905e6062-9d85-5d45-96e5-e5e565847c42)

Two (#u9ad657c6-4db3-5936-af23-4c3b6cb74b89)

Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#ulink_c9b07481-e0a3-56d9-9b17-3c23d1a016df)

Eagerness gripped Sierra Benson as the time arrived for her appointment with Blake Callahan.

She had done interior design for him, but that had been nearly two years ago and she’d never actually met him. Since she’d finished that job, and received a personal note of thanks from him, she’d changed careers. She was now director of Brigmore Charities of Kansas City, Kansas.

She hoped he’d asked to meet with her to make a contribution.

She’d read enough about him to know he was thirty-four, six years older than she was, a Texas multimillionaire, a hotel mogul and a rancher with interests in commercial real estate. Excitement bubbled in her to think their nonprofit might be getting a sizable donation.

Breaking into her thoughts, her assistant, Nan Waverley, announced her visitor’s arrival.

“Send him in, please,” Sierra said, as she stood and gave a pat to her light brown hair, pinned at the back of her head. She smoothed her straight brown skirt and looked up as Nan opened her office door.

“Thank you, Nan,” she said—or that’s what she hoped she said, anyway. Coming face to face with Blake momentarily took her breath.

She had seen pictures of Blake Callahan and knew he was nice looking, single and had an active social life, but she wasn’t prepared for the dynamic man who, without one word, seemed to charge the air with energy as he entered her office. Even more startling, she was caught and held by brown eyes so dark they looked black. With their gazes locked, a sizzling current rocked her.

An even bigger surprise shook her when she noticed a flicker in the depths of his eyes. His chest expanded with a deep breath—he appeared jolted by the same magnetic charge that captured her. With an effort, she gathered her wits and turned away, ending the eye contact. She crossed the room to shake hands with him.

“Mr. Callahan, I’m Sierra Benson, and it’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, trying to regain her poise.

The handshake was a mistake. The instant his warm fingers closed over hers, the same riveting current jumpstarted again, only stronger this time.

Snagged by another exchange with his mesmerizing gaze, she stood breathless, aware of the physical contact, even more conscious that he was as immobile as she. How long did they stand in silence, held by a handshake and eye contact?

She slipped her hand out of his.

“It’s Blake and, I hope, Sierra,” he said easily in a deep voice. His tone sounded casual, friendly, but his look was probing, as if trying to find something that would explain why they were caught in an invisible current.

“Fine,” she answered, striving to get a firm note into her tone. “Please, have a seat. I missed meeting you at the grand opening of your hotel because of a family emergency. Decorating your hotel was an exciting project.”

Blake sat across from her, with her ancient hardwood desk between them. In an impeccable navy suit and a shirt with French cuffs that revealed gold cufflinks, Blake could have been a model—except he conveyed the signs of a man accustomed to more physical activity. He moved with an ease that indicated a high degree of fitness.

She suspected he had not been in any office in his life that was as run-down as hers. In his elegant clothes, he looked out of place in the eighty-three-year-old building that had not been maintained well. Tattered, faded books lined her shelves. The wooden floor had long ago lost its luster. Gusts of March wind rattled the aging windowpanes behind her.

“You did the best job on that hotel of any interior designer we’ve ever hired,” Blake said.

“Thank you,” she answered, pleased to hear that kind of praise.

“I was surprised to discover you’ve left the business when you have a natural talent for design.”

“Thanks again. Helping others is my first love, so when this opportunity arose, I took it. We do a lot of good for people, which I’ll be happy to tell you about. I assume that’s why you’re here.” She settled back in her chair.

When he shook his head, her spirits plummeted. “No? Your response is an immense disappointment,” she admitted. “If you’re not here to make a donation, why are you here, Mr. Callahan?”

“It’s Blake,” he reminded her with a smile that momentarily made her forget business. It was warm, disarming and added to his appeal. She tried to focus and pay attention to what he was saying.

“I’m building a new wing on my ranch house in Texas. You’re the best at interior design, and I’d like to hire you.”

“I’d hoped you were here to learn about our charities and to possibly help in some way. I appreciate the job offer, but I have to decline,” she answered as her disappointment increased. “I’m sorry you wasted time and effort to come talk to me in person.” She smiled at him. “I wish you’d give me some time and let me tell you about all we do here to help those who need a lift.”

“We have a problem,” he said, studying her with those riveting eyes that scrambled her thoughts. “If we try, perhaps we can do both—I’ll help with your charities and you consider my ranch job,” he answered pleasantly, but she knew he was telling her he would listen if she agreed to what he wanted.

“I appreciate your offer. It’s flattering, but I’m not leaving this work. It means too much to me. This was the work my grandfather loved, and before he died I promised to continue it.”

“If you’d take this job, which would only be short-term, I could make it worth your while,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her last remarks.

She smiled. He obviously did not take refusal easily.

“My interests are here,” she replied. “You can find talented interior designers who can do your new wing,” she added, wondering when he would give up trying to persuade her to do what he wanted.

They sat in silence a moment before he took out a checkbook and wrote. She suspected he would try to offer her more than the usual amount to do the decorating job for him. That aura of confidence surrounding him indicated he was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted. The money would be tempting, but she could find money elsewhere.

Certain he would offer an exorbitant sum, she watched as he wrote a second check.

Now he leaned forward, stretching out a long arm to place the two checks on her desk. “One of these is for your work on the new wing at my ranch. You’ll have to live there to get the job done, but it shouldn’t take more than a few weeks. The other check is a donation to this agency, and if everything is satisfactory, I’ll make the same donation annually for at least three years.”

Stunned, she looked at two identical checks, each for half a million dollars. For a moment she was speechless, trying to digest his offer.

“Why would you offer me so much money? There are other excellent decorators.”

“I don’t know them or their work. You’re the best choice for the job. Besides, now that we’ve met, I’d like to get to know you.”

Yes, there was chemistry between them—she couldn’t deny it. But his admission that he’d like to get to know her only increased her reluctance about the job. She hoped to avoid ever being in a situation like her last job—where her boss tried to bribe her into his bed.

Staring at the checks on her desk, she forgot the past. She couldn’t ignore the money Blake would pour into her nonprofit, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the good that could be accomplished by his incredibly generous donation. And the promise of more donations to come. Her head spun with possibilities, dreams they had for the charity to grow. The kind of money Blake offered would take years to accumulate.

“You would really do this?” she whispered, looking up at him. “Just to get my design services?”

“Yes. And if it works out well, you’ll get more donations,” he said with a coaxing smile. As she looked at the check again, he sat in silence.

There was no way she could turn down such a dazzling offer that would put so much money into Brigmore Charities. It was thrilling to think how many people they could reach. Without looking up, she considered the man sitting across from her. She had seen his picture in society pages, Texas magazines and occasionally on television. He had an active social life, and a lot of the pictures had shown him escorting beautiful women.

“You actually live and work in Dallas most of the time, don’t you?” she asked.

“One week out of each month I’m in Dallas, unless something important interferes. The ranch is where I prefer to be.”

Realizing she might have to deal with him on a daily basis, she considered the job. In spite of his remark about wanting to know her, she could ensure they had no contact with each other socially. She suspected he received few rejections from women, but his sexual interests would not involve her. In spite of his personal remark, he would want her to concentrate on the job he had hired her to do.

The money he offered danced in her thoughts, with possibilities of how to use it to do the most good. There was no way she could turn him down, which she was certain he knew.

She nodded. “You win. I accept your offer. This is a marvelous, breathtaking contribution.”

“It may be breathtaking, but it isn’t solely a contribution—it’s also payment for your work,” he corrected with a slight smile, causing creases to bracket his mouth and making her pulse flutter. She had to admit he was appealing. Briefly, it occurred to her again that the huge sum might carry expectations of seduction, but she immediately dismissed the worry. He had enough beautiful society women in his life who were willing to keep him happy.

“I’ll want to hire at least two people to assist me, and I’ll pay them out of the check you’ve given me.”

“No. I’ll take care of their salaries. Just give me the bill.”

“How soon do you want me to start?” she asked, still shocked by the sudden change in her schedule and the huge windfall.

“As soon as you can manage. Next week would be great. I’m anxious to get this wing finished.”

She pulled her calendar close, though she knew she could start Monday. He couldn’t be any more anxious to finish than she was, because as soon as she was done she could focus her full attention on Brigmore Charities’ projects—and now she would have the funds to accomplish some of the agency’s goals.

Years ago, the agency, started by Clyde Brigmore, one of her grandfather’s friends, had almost gone under until her grandfather got involved, and with the support of her dad’s church and her grandfather’s hard work, the agency went from running a very small homeless shelter to supporting a larger shelter as well as a children’s shelter. In the past year they had opened an animal rescue branch. Now many churches in Kansas City helped support the agency, along with individual donations, and most of her work focused on acquiring funding. It was work she loved, and through it she felt close to her grandfather.

She realized Blake was talking and she needed to pay attention. She tried to focus on Blake Callahan.

“Would you like that?” he asked, and she felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. It’s difficult to get my mind away from the changes in my life and the fabulous contribution you just made. What did you say to me?”

His dark eyes twinkled with amusement. “I’m glad you’re pleased with our deal. I’m very pleased with it. What I asked was about transportation. If you’d like, I have a private jet. I can have you flown to Dallas, where a limo will take you to the ranch, which is about an hour and a half away from the airport.”

“Thank you. I’ll accept that invitation. If I start Monday, I’d like to arrive Sunday and get settled.”

“That works. I’ll be at the ranch, and I’ll show you around.”

She nodded, unable to keep from looking again at the spectacular checks.

“Then we have a deal?” he asked.

She looked up into black, fathomless eyes that seemed to hide his feelings. “We have a deal,” she replied, feeling a tingle.

For a fleeting moment she wondered what she had gotten herself into. What would it be like working with him daily, staying in his home, having him constantly close at hand? The questions made her pulse race...but then common sense said he would turn supervision of the job over to someone and go on with his life.

In a languid manner, he stood. “If you have any questions, feel free to call me. Here’s my business card and another number that’s private. If you’ll let me know your preference for what time of day you’d like to leave Kansas City, I’ll let you know about the flight arrangements.”

“Thanks. I can tell you right now, I’ll be ready to leave after twelve Sunday.”

“How should I contact you?”

She took a card off her desk and held it out to him. “My cell number is there, and you can always get me that way.” As their fingers brushed, she had another flash of physical awareness of him.

She shrugged away the feeling as ridiculous. She couldn’t understand the tingly reaction she had to him—that had never happened with any other man, but it was meaningless at this point in her life. She wasn’t dating because she was focused on her work. This was a business arrangement, and she intended to keep her relationship with Blake Callahan professional.

She walked him to the door where he turned. This time she avoided offering her hand. Even so, as she stood looking up at him, dark eyes searched hers for a few seconds as they stood in silence. “This should be good for both of us,” he said in a husky voice that heated her.

“I hope so,” she said faintly.

He opened the door and stepped out before turning again.

“I’ll text the flight arrangements and have a limo take you to the plane. The chauffeur will pick you up wherever you want.”

“Thank you. That’s a huge convenience. Until then, thank you for the donation, and the job and for having so much faith in me.”

“I’ve seen the results of your work,” he answered. He turned to leave and paused at her assistant’s scarred desk, which had one leg missing and was propped up with bricks. He told Nan that he was glad to have met her, and then, smiling at Sierra and her assistant, he left.

When he had disappeared from sight, she turned to her assistant. “I’m going to take some time off. He’s hired me to do a decorating job at his ranch.”

“Mercy! I’d take that job, too. That’s the most handsome man to ever walk through this office. Don’t tell Bert I said that.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Sierra said with a smile, thinking about her assistant director, Bert Hollingsworth, who was six years older than she was, with sandy hair he never could get totally under control and gray eyes that held a perpetual worried look. She had been friends with him since the moment they were introduced. Unlike her response to Blake Callahan, Bert had never once evoked any physical reaction in her.

Reassuring herself once again that she would see little of Blake once she was on the job, she tried to shove him out of mind.

“Will you please call Bert and then both of you come to my office? We have some things to discuss.”

Giving her a quizzical look, Nan nodded and picked up a phone, repeating Sierra’s instructions to Bert.

Sierra left her door open as she hurried to her desk and sat, taking the checks in hand to stare at them again in amazement. All that money—her head spun at the thought. She had promised her grandfather she would continue his hard work and help people when they needed help.

She had been raised to believe in the good in people, and every week she had proof of that goodness from one person or another. Blake Callahan couldn’t understand why she’d left interior design, but her career in nonprofit work was about what really counted in life. She had great faith in the ability of the human spirit to overcome adversity.

Shortly, Nan and Bert entered her office, Bert with his usual smile. “How’d the meeting go?”

“That’s the reason I wanted to talk to you. He’s hired me to do the interior design for a wing he’s built onto his ranch house. I’ll have to take a leave of absence.”

“I thought you gave up that career,” Bert said, frowning slightly.

“I thought so, too, but he gave me two payments—one for my work, and one as a donation to this agency. Here are the identical checks—each one for half a million.” She passed the checks to Bert, who shared them with Nan. Bert stared open-mouthed while Nan read the amounts again. Nan’s eyes were wide as she looked at Sierra.

“All that money to our agency,” she whispered.

“Saints above.” Bert shook his head, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “I knew the man was wealthy, but this—I never dreamed we’d get this kind of donation.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t faint,” Nan said. “You don’t even have to share that with your old design firm.”

“No, but I’ll share my personal check with Brigmore Charities. I’m also going to share with Dad and his church. Just think what good we can do with all this money.”

“I may faint,” Bert said. “No wonder you took the job. How could he want you that badly?”

“He thought I did a good job on his hotel. I turned him down at first, but I don’t think the man is accustomed to hearing no. And there’s more. If I do a good job, he will make an annual contribution of this amount to Brigmore Charities for the next three years.”

Bert shook his head as if in denial.

“Is he single?” Nan asked.

Sierra bit back a smile. “Very. When I worked for him before, I heard gossip that he doesn’t have serious relationships.”

“I think you ought to use a little of that money for a background check on him. He wants you too badly,” Bert said.

Sierra smiled and shook her head. “I don’t think a background check is necessary. Look him up on the internet and look up his business. He can afford this check without thinking about it. His father is a billionaire, and Blake Callahan is wealthy on his own. There are a lot of women in his life. He has no need of me, except as a decorator.”

“Want me to come with you?” Bert asked, a frown creasing his brow. Sierra held back another smile.

“Thanks, Bert. I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“If for any reason it becomes necessary, you call me and I’ll be right there.”

“I will,” she said, appreciating his offer, though it seemed ridiculous. “I won’t be alone. I’m hiring two people to help me. He’ll pay their salaries, and they’ll live on the ranch with me part of the time.”

“That’s good,” Bert said.

“If you need a secretary, don’t forget me,” Nan said, smiling.

For the next half hour they talked about depositing the check and presenting the donation to the Brigmore Charities’ board of directors.

Finally, Nan rose to go back to her desk. Bert came to his feet, he closed the door and returned.

“I want to talk to you.”

She sat behind her desk and waited.

“I don’t think you should take the job or accept the check.”

“You have got to be kidding,” she said, staring intently at him. “Why on earth not?”

“He’s up to something. That’s too much money.”

She held back a laugh. “I’ll repeat—Blake Callahan will never miss this money.”

“Why didn’t he go to the New York agency he hired when you first worked for him?”

“He should have, but he said I did the best job he’d ever seen. He’s accustomed to getting what he wants. He’s flying me there in his private jet. Stop worrying, and start thinking about the best use for this money.”

Bert shook his head and stood. “All right, but at the first sign of trouble, promise you’ll call me. Let me know where this ranch is.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, smiling at him, knowing Bert had perpetual worries even when everything was rosy.

“If you’re okay...what a windfall for us. This is going to help a lot of people. Our buildings are old and need repair—the homeless shelter was the original charity and it needs a new roof, new plumbing—all sorts of things. We have a waiting list for the orphaned children and their building and grounds need work.”

“Plus the four-footed friends. Don’t forget our dog and cat shelter. This will buy a lot of chow, and we can run some great ads. Maybe we can get a bigger place because what we have is so tiny we can only take a few animals at a time.”

“True. I’ll get busy.”

“Good,” she said and watched him go, leaving her door open behind him.

She knew Bert’s worries were unnecessary, but there was only one threat from Blake Callahan.

That sizzling attraction that flared the first second they looked into each other’s eyes. Never again would she get involved with an employer—yet how well could she protect herself from Blake’s sexy appeal?

* * *

Late Friday afternoon Blake flew home to Dallas, where he had a small plane waiting to fly southwest to the tiny airstrip at Downly, Texas. At Downly he climbed into his waiting car and headed west to his ranch.

While he drove along a county road devoid of traffic, he thought about Sierra Benson. He hadn’t met her when she did the hotel job, so he had been startled when the air sparked with a chemistry that he suspected she felt as much as he did.

Some of the most beautiful women he’d dated had never caused that kind of reaction in him. When he had taken Sierra’s hand, the impersonal contact had had the impact of a blow to his middle, a tug on his senses that made him want to get to know her. His reaction to her had blown his intentions to hire her all out of proportion.

He had wanted her to handle the decor of his new wing because she was the best at interior design and decoration he had ever met. Add the intense physical appeal to her business skills, and he wasn’t about to let her disappear out of his life. He had overreacted by offering so much money, but when had a woman ever set his pulse pounding by merely saying hello? Or shaking hands with him?

Her stay at his ranch should be interesting. He knew he had acted impulsively, and in what was an uncustomary manner for him, but he didn’t want her to say no and disappear out of his life before he got to know her. He wanted to hold her, to kiss her. The thought set his heart racing.

Maybe their attraction was something that happened at first meeting and wouldn’t happen again. With the smoldering chemistry between them, he couldn’t keep from dreaming of seduction.

Dream on, he thought. She was wrapped up in saving the world and would probably be earnest, wanting marriage if there was a relationship.

They were from two different worlds—her whole aim in life was helping others, a commendable ambition, but not practical. At some point reality would hit, and she would give it up. Right now, it seemed ridiculous for her to toss aside a career she had a tremendous talent for to do charity work. She could have had her own design firm! Instead, she looked at the world through rose-colored glasses and saw everyone as filled with a basic goodness—which was not practical.

This was a lesson he had learned early in life when his father abandoned him. There was nothing good about a man who would dump his wife and small child, cutting them permanently out of his life. He never gave time or attention, and they had been hurt repeatedly by his indifference. Eventually, Sierra would learn that not everyone could be saved.

He’d learned about the realities of human nature at an early age, watching his father be honored for his philanthropy only to turn around and lie to get what he wanted, cheat on his wife and abandon his children.

Sierra would soon be like the rest of the world—as out for herself as the next person, and all her sweet talk about saving souls would be a memory. That was human nature.

No, she was not his type in any way—except for that hot, intense, mutual attraction.

A scalding attraction he intended to pursue in spite of their differences, because it was obvious she felt it too. He intended to clear his calendar and spend some time at his ranch while she was there.

He had planned on being at the ranch this week, anyway, so it would work out well with her starting Monday.

Then he would find out if that mutual attraction was a first-meeting fluke—or something more.

* * *

Sunday afternoon Sierra watched from her window as the plane lifted from the tarmac and gained altitude, revealing Kansas City spread below. Her gaze traveled around the plush interior of the aircraft with its luxurious reclining leather seats, tables between them, a magazine cabinet, a television screen and a laptop. The plane circled the city and headed south.

As she flew, she checked again to see that she had the phone numbers for two people she had worked with who now had their own New York agency. They had accepted her offer to work on Blake’s ranch house, and they would start Monday.

Eli Thompkins was a quiet presence and excellent at interior design. She had admired his work before she graduated and gotten into the business, and she would be happy to work with him.

Lucinda Wells had started as an interior designer at the same time as Sierra. She was talented, specializing in contemporary design. Eli and Lucinda would look for art, paintings and sculptures, as well as furnishings. Sierra had already given them a few suggestions.

She’d taken care of the donation details with Bert before she left. She tried to focus on all the wonderful improvements and opportunities Blake’s money would provide, but nothing could distract her from the tingly anticipation of seeing him again. Would she have the same sizzling reaction to him?

She hoped not, because that would complicate her job. Blake was far too cynical; his dismissal of her current work was proof of that. It was as if he was unable to see the goodness in others. She couldn’t understand his outlook on life, and he didn’t seem to understand hers. She needed to keep him out of her thoughts.

What was even worse, she hadn’t slept well because of dreams that included Blake—dreams she definitely didn’t want.

Had he felt anything when they’d met? Or had she imagined his response?

She suspected that by tomorrow morning she would have her answers.

Right on schedule, they touched down at Love Field in Dallas. She thanked the pilot and departed, crossing to the waiting white limo for another luxurious ride.

When they finally turned onto the ranch road, they passed beneath a wrought-iron arch with the name BC Ranch.

As they approached Blake’s house, she saw barns, outbuildings and a sprawling two-story stone ranch house that had to have cost a fortune. Slate roofs glistened in the sunlight, and she could spot the new wing because of construction equipment still in the yard. In front of the house sprinklers slowly revolved, watering the lawn and beds of early spring flowers bordering the porch.

As she remembered Blake’s midnight eyes and black hair, butterflies danced in her stomach. She hoped when they greeted each other she felt nothing except eagerness to start this job and gratitude for his donation.

The limo drove around the house, pulled beneath a portico and stopped. Blake stepped out and approached them. In jeans, a navy Western-style shirt and black boots, he looked like the successful rancher he was.

The driver opened her door and she stepped out of the limo. When she looked up into Blake’s brown eyes, she realized this job would not be as easy as she had hoped, because a sizzling current rocked her to her toes.

How was she going to work with this tall, handsome man without giving in to this attraction?


Two (#ulink_4b277718-c9b8-5b78-9e8c-76b0172fcd5f)

On a windy March afternoon, Blake watched Sierra Benson step out of the limo. She wore deep blue slacks and a matching shirt, her hair tied back by a blue scarf.

Taking a deep breath, Blake walked over and extended his hand. He wanted to find out if he had the same sensual reaction he’d had when he first met her, or if that had been his imagination. The moment his hand enveloped hers, he had his answer.

He felt the same sparks, and he saw the same surprise flicker in her big, blue eyes.

He never dated anyone he worked with, and she was not the type of woman he would be friends with. Even as he thought of the reasons he should keep his relationship with Sierra impersonal and professional, he was caught in those blue eyes and didn’t want to look away. Far from it. When his gaze lowered to her full red lips, he inhaled, trying to ignore a flash of curiosity. What would it be like to kiss her?

With a mental shake, he tried to get a grip on his thoughts. For all he knew she was engaged, deeply in love with someone at home and totally off limits.

“Welcome to my ranch,” he said with a smile. “Come inside, and I’ll have someone bring in your things while I show you around.”

“Thanks,” she said, slipping her hand out of his and falling into step beside him. “You have a beautiful home. It looks very big already, even without adding a wing to make it larger.”

“It’s home—a haven for me. I wanted a larger bedroom suite, something in a contemporary style, and there are three more large suites in the new wing. I wanted an entertainment room, an exercise room and a casual living area—so I’ll have all that in the new wing, too.”

“It’s a huge place for one man.”

He smiled. “I have a staff to take care of it and relatives on Mom’s side of the family. They’re scattered across the country, and she likes to have them here during Christmas—they’ll fill both wings. I have three half brothers who visit and one of them, Nate, is married with a baby girl. Cade and Gabe—heaven knows if and when they’ll marry. I have friends who come to fish or hunt or for a party or just to visit. I don’t intend to rattle around alone. Would your family fill the space?”

Her eyes widened. “We could fill a lot of the bedrooms. Growing up, we always had kids sleeping on air mattresses and sofas because of the company we brought home.”

He saw her looking at the heavy crystal-and-brass chandelier hanging over the circular entryway filled with potted palms. There were also oil paintings on the walls. The entryway ceiling was two stories high, and on both sides of the hallway the rooms were open, with Corinthian columns instead of walls on the side facing the circular hallway.

“I have an office you can use on the second floor. It’s next to your suite.” He motioned toward a sweeping staircase with iron railings.

On the second floor he directed her down a wide hallway. They passed a bedroom and then stepped into a living area. “This suite will be yours. If you need anything, just let me know.” He saw amusement curve her mouth slightly. Tempting lips that looked soft and enticing.

Mildly exasperated that she stirred unexpected feelings in him, he shifted his thoughts to the present. “What’s amusing you?” he asked.

“How could I possibly want anything in all this luxury?” she asked. “You’ve seen my office.”

“Yes, I have. I suspect you didn’t do the decor for it.”

She smiled, and a warm feeling filled him. Her smile was contagious, as inviting as sunshine. “No, there is no decor in my office. Very plain vanilla, and we have buckets for rainy days.”

“You should have enough money from my check to fix the roof.”

“Probably, unless things come up that are more urgent.”

Surprised, he glanced at her, realizing again that he didn’t have any acquaintances like her. Neither his friends nor his family would put a charity project over repairing a leaky roof. She was a marvelous interior decorator, but he couldn’t fathom her views of the world, her preferences. Again, he wondered how long this career would last for her. She would discover the reality of human nature and return to her old career. She would change, he had no doubts, but until then, her rosy view fascinated and confused him.

Hot chemistry or not, she was definitely not his type, and he knew with absolute certainty he wasn’t hers. He needed to stop thinking about her lips.

“You have an adjoining bedroom and bath, and if you’ll come with me, next door is the office.”

She laughed softly. “It’s bigger and better equipped, and far nicer than mine at the nonprofit. I might not go home.” He saw the twinkle in her eyes and smiled at her.

“Nice office or not, I suspect you’ll be ready to go when the time comes. Some who have a city background don’t like the ranch after a few days. Or sooner—it’s too quiet and isolated for them. Wear boots or take care when you’re outside—we have rattlesnakes.”

He waved his hand. “You have four computers with extra-large monitors, a copy machine, scanner, fax, a laptop, an iPad, a drawing board. If you need anything else, let me know.”

“I think that covers what I might need, and I brought my own iPad.” She turned to face him. “Blake, I want to look at the rooms we’re talking about so I have an idea what I’ll be dealing with. I’ve hired two talented people. When I unpack I’ll give you their cards and a brochure about their agencies. Right now, they’ll work out of New York, but they’ll fly out here as we get to the later stages. That will mean they will need to stay nearby—”

“They can stay right here. There is plenty of room in this house and there are two guest houses. If you need or want anything, just tell me, or if I’m not here, tell Wendell.”

A man knocked lightly on the door. He wore a black shirt, jeans and Western boots as he entered with her carry-on and a small bag.

“Perfect timing, Wendell. Sierra, this is Wendell Strong, who keeps the house running. Wendell, meet Ms. Benson, our decorator for the new wing.”

After they exchanged greetings, Wendell set down her things. As he did, Blake added, “Wendell does a lot of jobs—butler and valet, but basically he’s my house manager. With the exception of the cook, he manages my house staff and the gardener. His wife, Etta, is my cook.”

“I’m glad to meet you, and thank you, Wendell, for getting my bags,” Sierra said, smiling at him as he nodded and left.

“Have dinner here with me tonight,” Blake said. “Etta has cooked all afternoon, so I hope when the time comes, you’re hungry. I thought you might want to settle in now and catch your breath after the flight and drive. If you’ll come down about six, we can have a drink and relax a bit before dinner. After dinner I’ll show you the new wing.”

“Sounds good, Blake,” she replied. “One other thing—we have a big picnic at home Saturday, so I’m flying back to Kansas City on Friday afternoon.”

“Sure. I’ll take care of the flight arrangements for you.” He walked to the door and managed not to turn around and take one last look.

* * *

As Sierra unpacked her few belongings, she couldn’t keep from comparing the ranch house to her condo, which was large enough to be comfortable for her, but not too big, and she thought about the home where she grew up with her five siblings.

Her family’s two-story house had been large enough for her big family, kid friendly and nothing fancy. Always a place any of them could bring their friends, their house was usually filled with company. Many meals had included twelve to fifteen around their table.

Now, because of her work with Brigmore, she interacted daily with people who needed help, and helping them seemed so much more important than jobs like this one for Blake. They were good people who had had misfortune—illness or just bad luck. He was cynical, yet ironically, his money would be such a help. Most people would appreciate the help, and use it to make their lives better, something Blake didn’t seem to believe.

She needed to get this job done and get back to Kansas City. She was attracted to Blake to a degree she had never been attracted to another man before. He hadn’t done one thing to cause the attraction other than be himself, but she knew he felt it as much as she did.

His handsome looks and sexy appeal took her breath. While he seemed laid-back and easygoing, his air of supreme confidence was so strong it was almost tangible. He was sure of himself, accustomed to getting what he wanted, and it showed in his attitude, his demeanor and his walk. His assurance was obvious when he entered a room.

To her relief, he had been impersonal, businesslike, since her arrival. She hoped that didn’t change. She appreciated him not flirting or trying to charm her. She hoped she could stay businesslike, too.

Yes, she’d agreed to dinner tonight, but after this getting-to-know you session, she hoped to spend as little time around him as possible. When she thought of the enormous check he had given her to get her to take this job, a staggering amount, she had to wonder what was behind that offer. Why had he wanted her that badly? She might have once been good at interior decorating, but so were others.

Feeling suspicious about his motives, she hoped he had paid that much for purely business reasons. She couldn’t keep from thinking about the CEO she’d worked for previously. She had been an executive ready to move up when he had propositioned her, promising to make her a vice president if she would become his mistress. She hadn’t seen that coming from him and he had held no sexual appeal.

His startling offer had shaken her judgment in men and angered her. Unlike with her CEO, a physical attraction had existed between her and Blake from the first second they had met.

She would have dinner with him tonight, get the layout of the new wing and find out what he wanted and then, hopefully, he would go on about his business. He didn’t look the type to hover.

She showered and changed, dressing in a skirt, a matching red silk shirt and high-heeled pumps. She tied her hair behind her head with another silk scarf and went downstairs to meet him at six.

As she walked down the curving stairs, she saw him stop at the foot to wait. And watch her.

His dark gaze made her tingle. Taking him in at a glance, she smiled at him. He had changed, too. He wore jeans, boots and a different short-sleeve shirt that emphasized his dark, handsome looks.

“You don’t look as if you’ve traveled most of the day. You look as fresh as the proverbial daisy,” he said.

“Traveling in your private jet and a limo was not difficult or tiring. Both were about as comfortable as one can get,” she said, falling into step beside him.

“Want to look around a little, or wait until later?” he asked.

“Now’s fine so I’ll have some idea where things are located and what kind of house you have.”

“Let’s go to the formal living area. It’s rarely used, but I felt I needed it, and I know my mother would have been unhappy if we didn’t have it.”

“Does she entertain here?”

“Never on her own, but she’s been hostess for me a few times. More in the past, when I first moved out here. This is it,” he said, and she walked through double doors into a room with a marble floor, elegant furniture and chairs upholstered in deep blue antique satin and brocade. Ornate, gilt mirrors and original oils of landscapes hung on the walls. The vaulted ceiling was two stories high, and floor-to-ceiling glass comprised a wall of windows overlooking the front drive.

“This is beautiful, Blake.”

“Thanks. The formal dining room adjoins this room,” he said, motioning toward more wide double doors that were open. They entered a room with a large ornate crystal chandelier centered over a gleaming fruitwood dining table that could easily seat two dozen people.

Silver candelabra sat on a buffet with a sterling tea set. The stone fireplace and hearth were flanked by paintings of hunting scenes.

“This is another beautiful room.”

“This one has been used more than that front room. I seem to have more dinner parties, although most of them are casual, the patio and backyard type. Much easier for everyone, and the food is still Etta’s cooking.”

“I think the cooking is what everyone remembers,” she said.

They moved through a study, a library filled with books that he had not read, and she laughed with him over his plans to read them someday. He showed her a downstairs bedroom that had more ancient, beautiful furniture—old-fashioned, heavy pieces, hand carved and made of mahogany, including a four-poster bed.

“This is absolutely gorgeous, Blake.”

“I think it’s time for a drink, and later we can continue the tour. I have three more bedrooms on this floor, an office on the ground floor and another smaller one adjoining my bedroom upstairs. Let’s go to the sitting room across the back. There’s a bar and it’s more comfortable.”

She walked beside him into a room filled with light thanks to more floor-to-ceiling glass. It overlooked a patio, a garden and a kidney-shaped swimming pool of crystal blue water with a waterfall.

When he crossed to the bar, she scooted onto a stool across the counter from him.

“This is quite a contrast to your Dallas life,” she said, gazing outside and seeing unending fields beyond his fenced yard.

“I love this place, and I need the ranch life. You’ve switched from New York City to Kansas City—still cities, but that’s a switch.”

“It’s quieter, and I love my work now far more than what I was doing.”

“I don’t see how you can. You could have opened your own design firm, but now all your energy goes to people who won’t thank you for it. You’ll see. These people you help will just want more help again—no one really changes. This,” he said, motioning to the expanse of his ranch home, “is where you can do something that will really last and be appreciated. You seem to have deep beliefs about how good people are—I’m sorry to say, you’ll be disillusioned eventually.”

“Blake, you’re a cynical man. Look for the goodness in people. Believe in it, and you’ll find it.”

He smiled at her indulgently.

“You’re looking at me as if you’re going to pat me on the head and try to set me straight on what people are really like.”

“That’s a thought.” He laughed.

She watched his hands as he poured drinks. He had fine, strong hands, which were probably good for ranch work. Maybe the isolation of this spread was what he preferred because he had a warped view of the world and a poor opinion of people in general.

When he held out a glass of pale white wine, she reached to take it, her fingers touching his lightly. He looked up, his gaze meeting hers. “Thanks,” she said, taking her drink and sliding off the bar stool to cross the room and look at his pool. But she didn’t see the water as questions swirled in her thoughts. Why did she have this intense reaction to him? Worse, why did he feel the chemistry, too?

“Running away from me?” he asked in a deeper tone as he joined her.

Startled, she met his probing gaze and wondered how long this reaction to him would continue. She didn’t want to try to guess what he was thinking at the moment. It was impossible to miss the blatant look of desire in the depths of his brown eyes.

“We better stick to talking about business,” she replied, wishing she didn’t sound so breathless. How could she have this reaction to him when he wasn’t doing anything to cause it, and when they held such opposing views of the world?

“Blake, we’re not going there,” she whispered.

Suddenly, he looked mildly amused, which shattered the intensity of the moment. “Not going where, Sierra?” Exasperation pricked her.

“You know where. I don’t know why we have this chemistry between us, but we need to ignore it, avoid it and hope it will go away because I’m sure you don’t want to feel it any more than I do.”

“I’m hurt,” he teased, his eyes twinkling. “I didn’t know I was such an ogre that you don’t want to find me attractive.”

“Right now, you’re moving into an area where neither of us should go,” she snapped, losing her usual good nature and patience. She was on edge because of her reaction to him, and his sudden flirting was only adding fuel to the fire.

He laughed softly. “Relax, Sierra. I know our relationship is a professional one, but while you’re living here, we might as well indulge in some unbusinesslike moments.”

With an effort, she smiled and tried to bank her impatience with him. He had made light of that intense moment, and she was certain it had meant nothing to him. She wanted him to feel that it meant nothing to her, too. She had no intention of letting him know the extent of the edgy, sharp physical awareness she had of him as a sexy, attractive male.

She suspected a man like Blake did not need any coaxing to entice him into a physical relationship. She was certain he had attracted females from a young age and was fully aware of the effect he had on women.

“If that big check you gave me included anything besides the design work you described in my office, then the deal’s off.”

Instantly the amusement left his expression. “Hey, Sierra. Absolutely not. My teasing was in fun and meant nothing.”

She realized her reaction had been too strong. Her past biased her. She tried to relax, getting them back on a casual, friendly footing. “I don’t know you well at all. Just making sure we understand each other,” she said, smiling at him.

“Good. Have a seat. Etta is in the kitchen, and Wendell is helping her get dinner on the table. I’ll introduce you to her. She’s a fantastic cook, which always makes it easy to come home.”

“You think of the ranch as home,” she said a few moments later, after they’d stepped outside and were sitting in chairs facing his patio.

“I told you that I love it here. This is my haven. I can come out here and enjoy the total silence. Sometimes you hear the wind, and sometimes you don’t even hear that. For a few minutes I can imagine the whole world is at peace. Even if it’s not, my little corner of it is.” He grinned. “Obviously, I like the ranch and I’m happiest here.”

“You’re fortunate. Far luckier than you give much thought to. I work with people daily who don’t have a haven, not even a tiny one. Then, there are those who surprise me—one would think they couldn’t possibly feel at peace because they own nothing, but they have an inner sense of a haven. That’s resilience, and it’s amazing.”

“You really like working with those people, don’t you?” he asked, looking more intently at her. He sounded surprised.

“More than anything. It’s the most wonderful feeling in the world to help someone, or rescue an animal and find it a loving home, or make someone’s life easier. That’s the best possible reward.”

“That’s commendable, but in my experience people don’t change. You can work your fingers to the bone and not make a difference. With the career you had, there were some very tangible financial rewards and lasting legacies. You could have built your own business instead of working with people who will disappoint and deceive you.”

“You have a cynical view of the world. Expect more from people, Blake. There’s a deep-rooted goodness in most people. Look for that and believe in it.”

“I’m just puzzled. You’ve tossed over a spectacular, successful career, a fabulous reputation and a hefty income for something that will take infinite patience, probably have low financial returns and be a lot of hard work that sometimes goes unappreciated and unrewarded.”

“Wow, Blake. That’s strong. You’re only looking at the downside of what I do.”

“Just looking at it honestly because I can’t understand your great faith in the goodness of human nature.”

“I don’t know what you’ve experienced, but I have seen that people are good and can live up to high expectations, or occasionally exceed them. Look at you. You don’t need money, yet you work hard to build your hotel business.”

He looked away and was silent a moment. She noticed a muscle flex in his jaw and wondered why her question caused him to tense up.

“I want to know that I can be a success in the business world as well as in the ranching world. We all have our goals.”

Wendell appeared, wearing a white apron over his jeans. “Dinner is served.”

“Thank you.” Blake stood. “Leave your wine. There will be some poured at the table.”

She walked with him toward the front of the house, and then they turned into the wide hall. In minutes Wendell directed them to a kitchen that was big enough to hold her Kansas City apartment, but the tempting smell of beef assailed her before she ever stepped inside. Doors stood open to reveal stainless steel appliances and state-of-the-art cookware that, when not in use, would be out of sight behind the elegant dark wood. A tall, slender woman with her brown hair clipped at the back of her head, smiled. Etta wore a white apron over a black uniform.

“Sierra, this is Etta Strong, my cook. Etta, this is Ms. Benson, who is here to plan the decor for our new wing.”

“So what’s for dinner tonight?” he asked as soon as the women had greeted each other.

“Tossed salad with chunks of lobster, slices of avocado on the side and French dressing. Prime rib, asparagus hollandaise, mashed potatoes and gravy and buttermilk biscuits. With homemade peach ice cream,” Etta answered.

“That sounds like a fabulous banquet,” Sierra remarked.

“When you’re seated, I’ll get you started.”

As Sierra walked with Blake to the adjoining informal dining area, she had another view of gardens and his irrigated yard, and marveled at the luxury of his lifestyle. She was thankful again for his check, and after their earlier conversation, she knew he needed to see some of the good his money would do.

They sat at a table that could easily seat ten. Wendell came with a bottle of red wine and one of white. He asked Sierra her choice and tipped red into her glass before pouring Blake’s.

Etta set the prime rib in front of Blake for him to carve. She returned with a bowl of steaming asparagus that she served.

After the first bite of prime rib, Sierra sipped her wine and smiled at Blake. “I have to agree—you have a fabulous cook. This is delicious.”

“Wait until you try her homemade ice cream. Wendell helps her with that.”

“No wonder you like the ranch so much.”

He smiled. “The food is the best, but there’s more than food. Have you ever been to a rodeo?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Actually, one of the best is in New York City, the Professional Bull Riders at Madison Square Garden,” he explained.

“Do you ever participate locally?”

“Sometimes—not as much now as I used to. I have ridden bulls a couple of times, but not seriously. That’s a bit rougher than I’m up for.”

“Aw, shucks,” she said, smiling. “So I won’t see someone I actually know in a rodeo. The pictures I’ve seen look wild.”

“That’s the thrill of it,” he said, and she laughed.

Through dinner, he was charming, keeping the same professional manner as if they were at a business dinner in Kansas City. Even so, there was an undercurrent of sensual awareness, and every minute spent in his company drew her closer to him and heightened his appeal.

As Wendell removed her dinner plate, she smiled. “My compliments to the chef. That was one of the most delicious dinners I’ve ever eaten. I don’t know which was best—that prime rib or those fantastic biscuits.”

“Thank you,” Wendell said, smiling as he started toward the kitchen. “I’ll tell Etta.”

Sierra looked at Blake. “I meant every word of that. What a marvelous cook you have.”

“I do everything I can to hang on to both of them. Etta has a reputation throughout the county—and probably farther than that. If she decided to leave, she would have so many offers, I don’t know how she would decide.”

The peach ice cream was served with white chocolate chip cookies, and they lingered over coffee, which Sierra barely touched. Once again, she thought about the homeless people at the shelter and how they often lived with hunger. Blake’s check would provide food for so many, and again, she felt enormous gratitude for his donation.

“Etta should open a restaurant—talk about natural talent for a job.”

“Don’t put ideas in her head,” he teased.

“Did she cook for your family before cooking for you?” she asked. For a fleeting second, she saw a hard look cross his features. It was gone so quickly, she thought she must have imagined it.

“No. The family she cooked for decided to move to South Texas and sell their ranch. I was friends with her son growing up. We’re the same age and went through school together. He’s a great guy. After graduation from high school, he went to the Air Force Academy and now flies fighter jets. He’s stationed in Europe. They have four other kids who are scattered except for an older, married daughter who has four kids. She lives in Dallas, and the grandkids come out here a lot and stay with Etta and Wendell. They’re cute kids, and we have horses for them—except the little one, who’s too young to turn loose yet.”

“That’s great. Were you born and raised in Dallas?” she asked. This time she had no doubt about the shuttered look she received.

“Yes. My father divorced my mother before I was a year old. He severed all ties with us, so I grew up without knowing him. He has never been a part of my life. If he’s ever spoken to me, it was before I was old enough to remember. I don’t know why, but my mother has never remarried.”

He spoke in a flat voice, and she realized she had touched on a sensitive area. “I’m sorry, Blake,” she said, meaning it, unable to imagine how devastating it would be if her father had rejected her. She thought about her generous, loving dad who had always been a big part of all his children’s lives.

Blake’s voice dropped, and she heard a note of amusement. “Sierra, don’t ever play poker. You look like you’ll start crying over me any minute. Of course, if you want to hold me close and try to console me for being abandoned—”

“Forget it, Blake,” she interrupted, laughing at him. “I see you survived and grew up quite well.”

“I’m friends with my father’s other sons, my half brothers, now because the oldest one and I went to school together. He’s a little younger, but we played football together in high school. Enough said on that subject. Where are you from? New York?”

Still thinking about his abandonment by his father before the age of one, she shook her head. “No. I’m from Kansas. That’s why I came back to work in Kansas City. My dad’s a minister, and I have a big family with a lot of contacts in the city. My mother is a retired teacher, and most of my family is involved in charity projects related to my job. Mom and two of my sisters volunteer at our animal rescue shelter. Dad runs some programs to help people from the shelter get to church. He has free breakfasts at his church every morning... I could keep going. There are six kids in my family, fourteen grandkids and a foster grandchild—soon to be adopted. I’m the one with no kids.”

“That’s a big family. It’s a very different lifestyle from my background, where I grew up with just two of us at home—Mom and me.”

“We were always free to bring our friends home with us, so we constantly had a house filled with kids,” she said, unable to imagine a home of just two.

“Don’t look at me like I was left by myself on the street,” he said with a grin. “I’m not one of your charity projects, although that might be interesting.”

She smiled in return. “There is no way I could see you as a charity project at any point in time. I suspect your mother showered you with love, and you had friends galore.”

“I always thought so,” he answered easily. “Let’s move and let Etta and Wendell clean up and go home.”

“Sure. I want to step into the kitchen and tell Etta how wonderful dinner was. I can’t imagine having someone like that cook for you all the time.”

“It is another draw the ranch holds, although if I had to live in Dallas year round, I’d try to get her to move with me. Wendell, too, of course.”

Blake waited while she went to the kitchen to tell Etta and Wendell again how wonderful dinner had been. She returned to find him leaning one shoulder against a door jamb and looking at her legs. His gaze flew up to meet hers, and there was no mistaking the blatant sexual speculation in his expression.

Trying to ignore the unguarded moment, she crossed the room to join him, and they walked into the big living area overlooking the patio and pool.

“Tell me when you’re ready, and I’ll show you the new wing. We can take a quick look tonight and go over the rooms in detail tomorrow—or we can skip anything related to work tonight and let you relax.”

“I can relax while I work. If you care to, you can show me around tonight. I don’t mind at all.”

“Come on and we’ll look,” he said and they headed for the stairs. “Tomorrow I’ll give you blueprints and pictures, so you’ll know what I want. The workmen aren’t completely finished with construction, but they’re far enough along that they’ll finish this week. By the time you’re ready for the actual work, they’ll be gone.

“I told you about the additions earlier. Also, I had an elevator put in because my grandmother visits, and she is getting less enthusiastic about stairs. Mom has her own one-story house on the property, but she rarely spends time there. She’s in Patagonia, sightseeing with friends now, or I would have had her join us for dinner. Here we are—we’ll walk through, and then if you have questions, fire away.”

As they strolled down a wide hall, she was more aware of the tall man beside her than of her surroundings. Their footsteps in the empty, unfinished wing created a hollow sound. When they entered the first suite, she saw that the rooms would be light because of the abundant windows.

She could smell sawdust and new lumber. She was equally aware of the faint scent of Blake’s aftershave, the scrape of his boot heels on the new hardwood floors, of his nearness when he opened doors for her and stepped back to hold them.

Thankful she wouldn’t be working with him on a daily basis, she couldn’t shake the acute awareness of him. As they stood in the large living area of the suite, he turned to her. “Downstairs in the older part of the house I showed you some of the rooms. They all have formal French-style furniture, European antiques, plus one suite holds two-hundred-year-old furniture I bought at an estate sale in New Orleans.”

“The rosewood furniture that’s ornate and elegant. It’s beautiful, Blake,” she said.

“Thanks. I think so. I did that mostly for my mom because she loves that kind of furniture, and she was influential in the selection of the earlier furnishings. Up here, I’d like a change in decor. I’d like these suites to be contemporary with sleek lines, open spaces. That’s more my style.”

“That’s popular now, and there are some beautiful furniture designs available,” she said, walking through the empty rooms while he followed. “You’ll have plenty to choose from.”

“Whoa,” he said. “Sierra, I’m turning this project over to you. I want you to make the decisions about the decor—that’s your field, and I trust you totally. From here on, you take charge. Do your stuff, get it lined up and then show me. I do not want to be too involved.”

“Suppose you don’t like it?” she asked. “People usually want to see some of the early planning. You had people who checked on what I was doing at your hotel.”

“That’s because you’d never worked for us before. Now the early stages will be your deal. I’ve told you contemporary, and we’ll set an upper limit for the cost. I don’t want to be consulted until you’ve made some selections and have sketches showing how it’ll look.”

“That’s flattering, and you’re the boss,” she said. “At least you know what you want.”

“Damn straight,” he said quietly, his voice acquiring that husky note that indicated furniture was no longer on his mind. “I know exactly what I want,” he said.

“All right, Blake. I’ll see if I can please you,” she flung back at him. Her pulse raced as she turned to walk away. When she did, her back tingled, and she felt his gaze on her. Telling herself that it was probably her imagination, she had no intention of turning to see if he was studying her.

The suites in the new wing were roomy, each unique, one with arched, wide windows giving a panoramic view of his lighted pool.

As she turned, she once again caught Blake gazing at her with a lustful look. She met his gaze and the moment intensified, her surroundings disappearing, leaving only the tall, handsome man facing her.

Her heart pounded as she left the room. “I’ll move on,” she said over her shoulder without glancing back.

They had only started looking and had the rest of the wing to finish. She drew a deep breath, determined to keep her mind on business. Not so easy when she was beside him or when she caught him looking at her with unmistakable desire.

Again, she was grateful that he didn’t live on the ranch full-time.

They looked at suites with large rooms, lots of glass and open spaces, big walk-in closets and bathrooms large enough to hold several pieces of furniture besides the usual bathroom equipment. She could envision some beautiful suites.

“You’ll have a hotel when you finish,” she said, amused. “This would even be big for my family.”

He smiled. “I like plenty of room. I do have company, and I have family now, thanks to Cade and my other half brothers. When they come to visit they need their own space. I told you before, Nate is married. He’s two years younger than Cade. He has a beautiful wife and a beautiful little baby daughter who is about two months old. They are back east right now, visiting her parents.”

“Is Cade the one close to your age?”

“Yes. Cade is the Callahan I know best. He’s the oldest of the three. Gabe is the youngest.”

While they talked, she gazed into his dark brown eyes. She was aware of how close he stood, and she considered initiating conversations only when standing across the room from him. This intense reaction was unique, disturbing and something she couldn’t understand. She turned to walk away, reminding herself to keep a professional distance between them.

“That’s it,” he said finally when they finished. “It’s early. Let’s go downstairs and talk for a while. You’ll live and work in my house temporarily, so we might as well get to know each other.”

She knew now was the moment to politely decline, but looking into his midnight eyes, she couldn’t. “For a while,” she said, unable to resist accepting his invitation. What was it about him that held so much forbidden appeal?

As they walked downstairs, he asked, “Want anything to eat or drink? We have desserts, more ice cream and an after-dinner liqueur. What would you like?”

“Just a glass of ice water, please,” she said.

They went to the sitting room at the back of the house, and he stepped behind the bar to get ice water for her and a beer for himself.

As she sat in a straight wingback chair, he sank down on a large brown leather chair facing her, sipped his beer and set it on a table. “Do you plan to stay with the nonprofit, or will you go back to decorating someday?”

“I plan to stay where I am. A project I have dreamed about is finding foster parents for homeless kids—now with the funds you provided, maybe we’ll be able to start that program. You would have room to take one,” she teased.

He gave her a startled look and then smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting a fraction. “That’s commendable, but a little kid right now wouldn’t fit in with my lifestyle.”

“Nonsense. You can hire nannies, maids and tutors, whomever you need.”




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