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Wife For Hire
Amy J. Fetzer
Nash Rayburn was shaken to his boots when Hayley Albright showed up on his ranch declaring herself his temporary wife for hire. Although he hadn't seen her in years, he still remembered how Hayley stoked his passion and riled his temper–and how his life might have been different if he hadn't been forced to give her up to marry another….The single dad knew that Hayley regarded him as an enemy, but despite her seeming indifference, he felt her melting every time he touched her. And he knew he'd do almost anything to win her trust and claim her as his own once and for all!



Friend. Nanny.
Stand-in Bride.
When a man needs the touches only a woman can provide…he turns to Wife, Inc.!
In Wife for Hire (SD#1305) by Amy J. Fetzer, all irresistibly sexy rancher Nash Rayburn needed was a temporary caretaker for his two young daughters. But when Hayley Albright came to the rescue with her special brand of cooking and caring, the single dad had a hard time keeping his mind on business and off the beautiful woman sharing his home.
Dear Reader,
This Fourth of July, join in the fireworks of Silhouette’s 20th anniversary year by reading all six powerful, passionate, provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire!
July’s MAN OF THE MONTH is a Bachelor Doctor by Barbara Boswell. Sparks ignite when a dedicated doctor discovers his passion for his loyal nurse!
With Midnight Fantasy, beloved author Ann Major launches an exciting new promotion in Desire called BODY & SOUL. Our BODY & SOUL books are among the most sensuous and emotionally intense you’ll ever read. Every woman wants to be loved…BODY & SOUL, and in these books you’ll find a heady combination of breathtaking love and tumultuous desire.
Amy J. Fetzer continues her popular WIFE, INC. miniseries with Wife for Hire. Enjoy Ride a Wild Heart, the first sexy installment of Peggy Moreland’s miniseries TEXAS GROOMS. This month, Desire offers you a terrific two-books-in-one value—Blood Brothers by Anne McAllister and Lucy Gordon. A British lord and an American cowboy are look-alike cousins who switch lives temporarily…and lose their hearts for good in this romance equivalent of a doubleheader. And don’t miss the debut of Kristi Gold, with her moving love story Cowboy for Keeps—it’s a keeper!
So make your summer sizzle—treat yourself to all six of these sultry Desire romances!
Happy Reading!


Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Wife for Hire
Amy J. Fetzer

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
AMY J. FETZER
was born in New England and raised all over the world. She uses her own experiences in creating the characters and settings for her novels. Married nineteen years to a United States Marine and the mother of two sons, Amy covets the moments when she can curl up with a cup of cappuccino and a good book.
For my friend and publicist,
Terri Farrell.
For pep talks via e-mail, Godiva and slugging through some of the worst titles in recorded history. For those clever ideas and keeping on top of my promotion so I focus on my writing. For those little surprises that arrive when I need them the most. For making me always feel important, and your quirky sense of humor. You’ve been a tremendous help, Ter.
Now aren’t you glad I talked you into this job?
Thanks.

Contents
Chapter One (#u4148f4b0-1e2d-543f-85d7-1f0c21617ea9)
Chapter Two (#uae980165-2604-5c75-b94d-7e4333398833)
Chapter Three (#u97b0b54c-4c59-5fad-9e56-1ba09edcaa1d)
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)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

One
River Willow Plantation
Aiken, South Carolina
She had a rubber chicken stuck in the grillwork of her car.
The webbed feet flopped with every bump, the chicken looking as if it was being strangled and fried for supper, with all the smoke coming from the exhaust.
Nash Rayburn’s lips twitched with amusement. “At least she has a sense of humor,” he muttered to himself, then glanced down at his daughters. They were grinning widely. A good sign, he thought, nudging his hat back and bracing his shoulder on the porch post. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops.
This was his wife for hire?
The dust-covered car rattled to a stop about twenty yards away and choked for a full twenty seconds after she shut the engine off and climbed out. Nash felt an instant pull in his gut the moment shapely bare legs first appeared and touched the ground.
Strike one. She was pretty. No, downright adorable, reminding him of a fairy in a story his mama told him when he was a kid. Her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, she had gleaming short dark-red hair and a body that was graceful and voluptuous. That pull tightened in places he didn’t want to acknowledge.
Strike two.
He’d told the agency he didn’t want anyone who’d distract the ranch hands. Now a petite full-breasted slim-hipped woman was coming straight toward him. And her Cadillac walk was so sexy he had the urge to cover his daughters’ eyes. Damn. A scoop-neck navy blue T-shirt, a short denim skirt and a pair of high heeled sandals had never looked that good on his late wife.
“Oh, goody, she’s not old,” Kim said as if it was a crime to be over ten. “She can play games with us.”
Nash glanced down at his twin girls. “Mrs. Winslow plays games.”
The two made faces at him. “Board games and stuff. She just watches us mostly,” Kate said, looking at the woman. “She looks nice, huh, Daddy?”
Breathtaking, he thought, and hoped his voice didn’t show it. “Yes, peanut, very nice.”
Ten yards away, the woman’s steps slowed to a stop, and Nash felt suddenly uneasy, a sense of familiarity hitting him. His gaze swept over her, searching for a connection.
“Nash?”
His blood froze and he straightened. He’d know that voice anywhere. Hayley Albright. His Hayley. “What are you doing here?”
She cocked one hip, her fingers tightening on the strap of a beat-up leather handbag slung on her shoulder. “If this is Katherine’s idea of a joke, I don’t like it.”
“Me, neither.” Nash’s insides twisted, his heart pressing against his ribs. Seven years ago he’d loved this woman. And seven years ago he’d betrayed that love and married another. He could never tell her why. Never. Yet one look at her and every cell in his body reacted, screaming for her. His blood grew hot and heavy in his veins as he stepped off the porch, walking toward her. It had always been like that, so good it was almost painful to be near her. She was the kind of woman who made heads turn as much for her confidence as for her beauty. The kind who made you smile just because she smiled.
The kind he’d wanted to marry.
Hayley felt memories of her past flow back as he neared, meshing with the old pain. She tried to push them aside, tried to gather her composure, but he was looking at her the way he had years ago. As if he wanted to devour her whole. It made her knees weak. She wanted to turn back to her car and drive away to avoid opening this part of her past again. It hurt too much. When he approached and stopped directly in front of her, the urge to throw herself into his arms made her eyes sting. It made her see that even if she told herself she was over him, she wasn’t. Not by a long shot. Out of sight didn’t mean out of mind—or heart. And if she stayed, she’d be in trouble.
Then he plucked off her sunglasses.
She snatched them back and met his gaze head on, searching for the man she once loved.
“You’re working for Katherine’s company?”
“A girl’s got to make a living.”
His lips flattened to a thin line. “What about your dream to be a doctor?”
She hitched up her handbag and said, “Still there. I just finished my internship. After a two-week break, I’ll go back to St. Anthony’s Hospital to begin my residency.”
“That’s great.” His smile was slight, bitter, and Hayley felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. Her need to be a doctor and his need to have her abandon her goal in order to be his wife had torn holes in their love and sent him into the arms of another woman.
“Somehow I don’t think that’s what you really mean,” she said.
His gaze narrowed. “I never wanted you to fail, Hayley.”
“No, just dump my dreams for yours.”
His features yanked taut. This conversation was just too difficult for public discussion, for what he was feeling, what he wanted to say to her. What he wanted to do with her. He caught the scent of jasmine, feeling it sing through his veins and make him ache to hold her. “It is good to see you.”
The low tone of his voice evoked heat and the sensation of being safely wrapped in warmth. “Good to be seen,” she managed and searched his face for any changes. They were minor, for he’d aged beautifully, the lines in his face giving it more character, a harder look than she remembered. At thirty-five he was as handsome as he was when she’d first seen him at a college mixer in her senior year. He’d arrived with his friend Katherine Davenport, Hayley’s sorority sister, mentor and owner of Wife Incorporated, just as a favor, and he’d left with Hayley. He was the older man, rich and powerful, who’d swept her off her feet and into his strong capable arms. She sighed, pushing the memory down where it belonged. She’d been a fool, falling for him hook, line and sinker, and she wasn’t about to let it happen again.
They stared at each other for a moment longer before Hayley asked the one question she didn’t want to say. “So, where’s Michelle?”
His features hardened. “She’d dead, Hayley. Killed in a car accident four years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” She was. Hayley might have a grudge against Michelle and Nash, but she certainly didn’t wish his wife dead.
“You know her, Daddy?” a voice asked.
Hayley stepped away and looked at the girls standing on the porch. While her assignment sheet offered only a street address, not a name—which she’d rail at Kat later for omitting—the job was detailed and she’d expected children. She smiled and waved. “Oh, Nash,” she said softly, in a tone full of surprise. “They look just like you.”
He didn’t take his eyes off her, enjoying her unrestrained smile. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”
She glanced. “Good,” she said honestly as the twins trotted down the wide Federal steps and flanked their father.
“These two beauties,” he said, ruffling the top of one dark head, “are Kim and Kate.”
“I’m Hayley,” she said, and shook their little hands. “And yes, your daddy and I are old friends.” She gave them a conspiratorial wink that made the five-year-olds giggle.
Nash felt the tension leave her body as if he owned her skin, and he was glad that any animosity she had for him didn’t spill over to his girls. How were they going to work this out? How long could he stand having her in his house, living with him, seeing her every day and knowing she hated him? It was a humiliation he’d continue to bear in silence. Keeping the truth from her would keep any feelings from being resurrected, he decided. And asking her to leave would be his best bet.
She swung her gaze to his, tipped her head to the side as if studying a painting. Her lips curved into a soft smile that caught him in the gut and threatened the seams of his anger.
Hayley sensed it and frowned. What did he have to be so mad about? She was the one who was jilted, while he’d had everything he wanted. A beautiful wife with culture, wealth and the same refinement he possessed. A perfect complement to the rich powerful landowner he’d become. “I can see you’re not happy about this,” she said, “so how about I call Kat and have another wife for hire here by morning?”
His eyes flared. The challenge was there. Nash had to admire her for it. Even when he wanted her gone. Just seeing her made his mistakes more pronounced. They felt like a knife in his side, and every time their eyes met, it twisted.
“Did you like our daddy?” one of the twins interjected.
Their curiosity was open and charming, yet Hayley could feel their father tense, feel his eyes on her as she looked down at the girls. “I thought he was the handsomest man on earth.”
The twins giggled again, huddling closer. Nash glanced down and their smiles fell a little. He supposed he deserved their retreat with the way he’d been barking at them all week; but Mrs. Winslow was off sick, and he had hundreds of horses, cattle, pigs, chickens and two brunette mischief makers roaming where they weren’t supposed to. Plus he’d had all his other duties to attend to. Bless their hearts, he loved his babies, but they were a full-time job. He eyed Hayley, wondering if she could keep up with his pair of tornadoes.
“I can handle the situation,” Nash said. “Can you?”
The challenge was there, she thought. He should know better than to dare her. “No sweat.”
“Fine,” he said, then turned and walked toward the house.
“Ooh, attitude already.”
He paused and looked back at her, arching a dark brow. She smiled brightly, motioning for him to lead the way. The twins were already stuck to her side and sharing secrets. Great. Outnumbered already, he thought sourly, pushing open the front door. He stepped into the coolness of the house, the girls skipping past him into the den and clicking on the television.
He tossed his hat onto the side table and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Turn it down a notch, will you, girls?” They did as he asked without a look back.
Nash stared down at Hayley, watching her gaze move over the foyer, the large open living room beyond, the furnishings, then to the left to the hall leading to the bedrooms and second floor. To the right lay a combination kitchen, dining area and den, or what real-estate agents called a Carolina room, and he searched her expression for a reaction, then wondered why he bothered.
She brought her gaze back to his. “Nice digs, Nash.”
He eyed her. “Thanks.”
“So, what’s first?”
He inclined his head toward the kitchen. “What did the agency tell you?” he said as he walked.
“That you needed a temporary wife and all-around kid wrangler for two little girls.”
He stilled and snapped a black look back over his shoulder. “I don’t need a wife.”
Hayley blinked, frowning. “I was speaking figuratively, Nash.”
His gaze swept over her thoroughly, and she stared back, dropping her hand to her hip and waiting for him to continue. This ought to be good, she thought.
“The plantation needs a cook and housekeeper, and my daughters need supervision. Household chores are Mrs. Winslow’s and now they’re yours. The girls have chores, too. The list is on the fridge.” He faced her. “This is temporary, and if I could manage without help, I would. Understand?”
“Quite well, as a matter of fact.” There was no room in his life for her other than as the domestic help, and he’d just made it crystal clear.
“And the cooking is for seven ranch hands, too.” She shrugged. “Two, five, ten, it doesn’t matter. As long as there’s food to prepare.”
He eyed her skeptically. “I don’t recall you being much of a cook.”
“A lot has changed in seven years, Nash.”
Her mysterious smile set him on edge, and the question about where she’d been, what she’d been doing besides graduate study, nagged at him. But he was determined to keep this relationship strictly business. Even if she was still sexy enough to make his jeans feel crowded.
“I guess we’ll get to see that, won’t we?” His words snapped off with the bite of lash.
She frowned. This wasn’t the Nash she remembered. This man was hard on the inside, apparently, as well as the outside. He never once smiled and he was the epitome of tall, dark and brooding. She half expected him to whip out a sword, draw a line in the carpet and dare her to cross it. His stare was intense, deep blue—and having far too powerful an effect on her.
“No, taste it.” Her brow knit. “If you doubt me, then why did you agree to have me stay?”
“I’m short on time and you’re here.”
“Gee. Thanks for throwing a bone my way.”
Nash sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. How was he going to last two weeks when he all he wanted to do was kiss her senseless? “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Look, Nash. We have a past and it’s over and dead. You have no real reason to be upset with me…” She let the sentence hang, implying that she alone had reason. “If I’m going to work for you, don’t you think you could cut me some slack?”
His gaze darkened, raked her with the same heat as when she first saw him. She ought to be immune to a look like that. She wasn’t. It didn’t help that it was hidden in anger, or that she had to crane her neck to look up at him, making her feel like a shrimp in an ocean of sharks. Or that he filled out that black T-shirt rather well after all these years. And for a split second she remembered what he looked like without a stitch.
Uh-oh, this was not in her plan, she thought, trying to focus as he described duties and meal preferences. He moved through the large kitchen to the laundry room, which was stacked with soiled clothes, then back around into the Carolina room. Pausing to check on what his daughters were watching on TV, he headed toward the hall. She followed.
“My office, and off-limits.” He gestured without looking back at her.
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
He cast her a sharp glance. She blinked sweetly and motioned for him to proceed.
He walked, pointing out the steep staircase leading to the girls’ rooms on the second floor, informing her that Mrs. Winslow went home to her son’s each evening unless work took Nash into the night. He stopped before a door, turned the knob, pushed, then leaned back against the frame, waiting.
“Your room.”
She looked. It was a normal guest bedroom, neutral decor, bright with sunlight. Was he waiting for her to disapprove of something? She hadn’t had a room to call her own until college, but walls meant little to Hayley; it was what was inside them that mattered. “This is fine.” She hurled her bag onto the bed, kicked off her shoes and looked at him. Wonderful. He was now another two inches taller.
“I suppose you have work to do. I’ll get started.” She walked back down the hall.
Nash blinked and straightened. “Don’t you need…?”
She glanced over her shoulder, enjoying his confusion. “What? More instructions? That’s not why you hired me. The agency gave me a thorough job description. Go do whatever it is you do on a horse ranch or plantation or whatever.” She waved toward the door as she walked into the living room. “We’ll be fine. Won’t we, girls?”
The twins spun on the sofa, peering over the back of it like squirrels. Hayley winked. They were button cute and itching with energy they’d obviously learned to curtail around their dad. Their gazes shifted to him, then to her.
“Would you like me to fix you some lunch or something before you go?” Hayley asked Nash.
“No.” Nash had the feeling he was being dismissed in his own house. “Chow’s usually at sundown.”
“It’ll be ready.”
His look said he doubted that as he grabbed his hat, eyed her briefly, then crossed to the sofa, sinking between his daughters and pulling them onto his lap. “I wish I could hang around with you.” He made an exaggerated sad face and they giggled.
“Horses won’t get fed,” Kate said.
“Then they’ll be too stubborn to sell,” her sister added. “We’ll be okay.”
They were so grown-up about this, and Nash’s chest tightened. “Behave. No mischief like yesterday.”
They blushed. “Yup.” He eyed them. “Yes, Daddy,” they chimed.
“Promise?” He held up his little finger, and his daughters hooked theirs around his and nodded. He grinned, kissed them, then shifted them off his lap.
Hayley felt like the outsider she was and wished she’d been that close to her father at that age. She’d lost her mom when she was seven, and her father, being a salesman, dragged her all over the country. She met many people, saw wonderful sights, but never knew permanence, never had a home until the sorority house in college. If the twins weren’t so cute she could almost envy them. They’d grown up in this house with the same people around them, and would probably marry local boys and have their weddings right here. Her heart jerked. Were Michelle and Nash married here? She warned herself not to go there. It was too painful to even ask. And it was the past. Why open up the wound?
Nash crossed to her and for a second he just stared, then said, “Those girls are my life, Hayley.”
His heart was on his sleeve just then, and Hayley was touched by the depth of his feelings for his daughters. “I’ll take good care of them, I promise,” she said.
He nodded briskly and left.
Hayley sighed, a little too drained around that man. She looked at the girls. “There’s a lot of work to do. So you can either sit there and watch TV for the next hour, fry a few more brain cells, or you can lend a hand and we’ll have some fun later. Whaddaya say?”
“What kind of fun?”
Hayley looked thoughtful. “I think this should be a group decision.”
They were off the sofa in less time than it took to take a breath, following her like mice to cheese.
“That your new wife, boss?”
Nash didn’t respond to the ranch hand’s comment and continued walking toward the barn, yanking his gloves from his back pocket.
“I thought mail-order brides went out in the nineteenth century,” Seth snickered.
“Y’all must have your work done if you’re sitting on your butts, right?” Nash said, pulling on the gloves.
Young Beau hopped off the back of the truck and hefted another hay bale onto the bed.
Nash paused long enough to issue orders before he strode into the breeding barn. The Thoroughbred auction was a week away, and his stock had better be in prime condition to sell. Briefly he checked on a mare about to foal, thinking how this addition was going to help stock his lands with good Thoroughbreds. Anyone for miles around this country knew it wasn’t the horses a breeder had, but the land they had to graze and raise them. This land had been under the guardianship of a Rayburn since before the American Revolution, and Nash had always felt there were generations of his ancestors staring down at him the day he took over the reins. He had a reputation and tradition to maintain, but with the girls growing and needing more of him, it was getting harder to divide his time and do the things he needed to make their life better.
Nash muttered a curse and knew he was just avoiding any thoughts of Hayley. She still made him breathe hard, and he knew he hadn’t been very congenial to her. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t control his emotions around her. She stirred up every memory he’d suppressed since he’d broken up with her—and married Michelle.
Walking into the stall of the horse he usually rode, Nash saddled the animal. Then he paused with his hand on the pommel. He couldn’t tell Hayley the truth, even if it was to ease the old hurt she tried to deny she felt. It would just make the entire situation worse. Mounting his horse, he rode around the rim of the paddock before leaping the fence and taking off across the pasture, trying hard not to think that the one woman he’d wanted in his house was now there. Or that his first honest, totally masculine reaction when he saw her was to wonder whether she still looked as good naked as she did fully clothed.
Hayley hefted the picnic basket, walking down the long stone-scattered driveway and heading off on the side road, under the drape of willow and sweet-gum trees, to the barns. Beside her, Kim and Kate each carried a big thermos and struggled to keep up. She veered in the direction of voices. Male voices. When she rounded the edge of the barn, she gave a shrill whistle, bringing heads around.
“Hey, fellas,” she called, holding up the basket. “Hungry?”
Six men dropped their pitchforks, lashed leads to posts or set shovels aside and came to her like foxes after bunnies as she set the basket on the tailgate of the truck and opened the lid. She introduced herself and each ranch hand tipped his hat a fraction and nodded cordially. Jimmy Lee was long and lanky with a big smile and deeply tanned skin. He had an intense stare and wasn’t above having a look-see of her from head to foot, until Beau nudged him. Beau was young, just out of high school, she imagined, and blushed went she shook his hand. There was Ronnie, about forty, with hair too long for his age and tied back in a ponytail, his straw cowboy hat crimped to fit his head just so. He didn’t talk and just eyeballed her, accepting a cup of cold water. Then there was Bubba.
“Just what name does Bubba replace?” she asked the older man, gray-haired with weathered features and a sweat-dampened dark T-shirt.
“Robert. Bob.”
Hayley decided Robert fit him better, despite the muscled chest, John Deere hat and overalls. Seth moved closer, lifting Kate and Kim onto the tailgate and peering into the basket.
“Miss Hayley made sandwiches, Mr. Seth. Big hulking ones,” Kate said, glancing at Hayley.
She winked, then motioned to the twins with a stack of paper cups to pour some water for the men first. “I’ve got roast beef, ham and cheese, turkey and plenty of everything.” Hayley fluffed out a tablecloth, then hitched her rear on the tailgate to lay out the meal with chips and fruit. “There’s coffee for you, Ronnie,” she said. “Kim mentioned you favored it, even in this heat.”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.” He took the thermos and poured a steaming cup.
Hayley felt perspiration trickle down her spine at just the thought of drinking it right now.
She served up a plateful for each of the men, then pulled out the peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches the girls had requested. Sitting atop hay bales in the truck, Kim and Kate were in heaven over the outdoor break. As she munched, Hayley studied the house. It was a massive structure in the low-country, two-story style, with a porch that wrapped completely around it. And this one, she’d discovered while vacuuming earlier, went on forever. There were six bedrooms in the place, and there was also a guest cottage out back near the pool. Beyond the two huge barns was a bunkhouse. The whole place was beautiful, and Hayley relaxed just looking at it. River Willow. She’d forgotten the name over the years, but as with Nash, that was all she’d forgotten.
The distant sound of hoofbeats came to Hayley, and she glanced around just as Nash came riding over the hill from the west side of the house. The girls waved and he waved back. He paused on the hill, shadowed beneath a tall willow tree, and her heart did a strange leap in her chest. That was just too much man for one body, she thought. He looked magnificent, exuding strength and masculine power, and for an instant, the image of a man, a hundred years ago in a billowy white shirt and knee breeches, flooded her mind. Old family, a Southern gentleman, even if he’d grown sharp around the edges. He met her gaze, and even at this distance she could feel it glide over her skin, pause where it shouldn’t, yet flattering her that it did.
He still turns me inside out, she thought.
His horse pranced delicately before he bolted toward the barns. Hayley turned back to the truck, resisting the urge to fan herself. The girls wadded up the sandwich wrappers and tossed them in the basket. She sent them off to collect the trash from the men as she packed up. When she looked up again, Nash was a few yards away. But she’d heard him, felt her pulse quicken when she knew he was riding closer. It was disgusting, this chaos she felt around him still.
“What are you doing out here?” He slid from the horse’s back and stormed toward her.
If he thought she’d run for cover, he was wrong. She had to stick with this, finish this job. And nothing, not even his intimidating glare, was going to make her back down. “Y’all need to stiffen up a bit.” She gestured to the ranch hands and Nash. “You’re just too loose and happy-go-lucky. I’m surprised you get a lick of work done.” The hands snickered, moving quickly off, and Nash stopped, his blue eyes narrowing.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
He looked at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “Does what hurt?”
“To smile.”
Disarmed, his lips twitched. Behind her, the twins giggled.
“Guess not.” Nash wondered now why he was so angry. Was it that his ranch hands were flirting with her, or was it that she was simply here, winning everyone over but him?
“Thanks a heap, Miss Hayley,” Jimmy Lee said as he sauntered back, handing her his cup and letting his gaze slide up and down long enough to make her blush.
“You’re a rascal, Jim.”
Nash gritted his teeth at the smile she gave the man.
“That’s what my mama keeps saying.” He walked away and Hayley flipped open the basket and held out a sandwich to Nash. “Would you like one?”
He looked between her and the sandwich.
“This doesn’t take a lot of brain power, Nash. A simple yes or no will do.”
Nash took the sandwich. She tossed him a soda, forcing him to catch it.
“Come on, girls.” She slapped the basket lid shut and inclined her head. Kim and Kate scrambled down, stopping before Nash. He squatted to meet their gaze and gave each of them a quick kiss.
“What have you been doing all morning?” he asked.
“Laundry,” they said, smiling.
“You never liked doing it with me.”
“But with Miss Hayley—” the girls looked at her adoringly “—it’s fun.”
“Well, we still have a ton of chores before party time, ladies.” She hooked a thumb toward the house and the girls skipped on ahead.
Nash straightened, the motion bringing him inches from her. He caught the scent of jasmine again, felt the heat of her body. He took a step back. “Party time?”
“I’ve promised them a game or two. Is it all right if they go in the pool?” At his hesitation, she added, “I’m an excellent swimmer.”
He knew that and hated to deprive the girls. “Sure, just let me know before you get in so I can check the chlorine.”
“I already did.” She turned away, not seeing his brows shoot up.
“Thanks, Miss Hayley,” the men chimed.
“You’re welcome, guys. Don’t work too hard.” She walked toward the house.
“Yeah, thanks,” came a deep drawl, and Hayley sent a look over her shoulder.
“No sweat, boss. Just doing my job.”
She wasn’t. She didn’t have to take the time to make the hands a midafternoon snack and certainly not bring it out here to them. They’d all had a decent lunch at noon. And Nash knew there was more than one person’s share of work to get done in the house. He didn’t like her calling him boss, either, then decided it would certainly remind him of the boundary between them.
Regardless of his thoughts, Nash watched her round behind shifting inside her short skirt, then dragged his gaze to his daughters. A little tinge of jealousy worked beneath his skin when the girls raced back to help her carry the basket.
“Sure was nice of her,” Beau said, and Nash glanced at him. Great. The kid had a crush on her already.
Yet in the back of his mind a little voice whispered that she was going into the pool and that meant a bathing suit. Nash turned away, swinging onto his horse and riding down to the south fence. He’d be there for a couple of hours making repairs, he told himself. Anything to keep from seeing Hayley, half-naked, in a swimsuit.
Because then he’d remember what it was like to make love to her.

Two
Strike three.
She could cook.
Nash stood in his formal dining room and stared at the spread on the table. He wasn’t sure what it was that smelled so good, yet the minute he’d entered the house, his mouth had started watering. The Hayley he’d known before couldn’t boil water and had eaten food that came out of a can or could be nuked in a microwave. Unless he’d taken her out.
It was another reminder that she wasn’t the same woman.
Behind him the ranch hands filed in, washed and shirts changed. His daughters were already sitting at their places near his, their plates prepared, beside them tall glasses of chocolate milk. He’d have to remind Hayley he preferred they didn’t overdo it with the sugar.
“Have a seat, gentleman. Dinner is served.”
Nash turned as she entered the area from the kitchen with a huge platter stacked with breaded chicken. The men scrambled for their seats as Nash slipped into his.
“I know your mamas taught you better, or am I going to have to hold this food hostage for y’all to take off those hats?” she said, eyeing them all except hatless Nash and Seth. Caps and cowboy hats disappeared under the table, and smiling with approval, she held the platter so they could serve themselves.
“What is it, Miss Hayley?” Beau asked, giving the platter a speculative look before stabbing a portion.
“Chicken Castellana. It’s a recipe from an old friend’s Sicilian nana. See, her husband, Angelo, was a barber, and during the depression people didn’t have cash, so they paid him in day-old bread, chickens, potatoes, whatever.” She shrugged, talking as she moved from man to man. “People had to have a haircut to get a job.” Her glance slid meaningfully to Ronnie and he smirked. “Anyway, Nana Josie created this recipe from the payments. It’s been cooking all afternoon.”
She stopped beside Nash and bent to offer him the platter. He served himself, avoiding looking into those eyes.
“Don’t be shy, Nash. There’s plenty more still in the oven.”
She was so close Nash felt the whisper of her breath skate down the side of his throat. He turned his head slightly and met her gaze. Her lips curved as if she knew her effect on him, and he focused on the platter, adding another piece to his plate. “Happy?”
“Ecstatic,” she said, then set the platter down. “The gravy is there, and help yourselves to seconds.” She went to the hutch, picking up the water pitcher and refilling the glasses before stopping beside the girls, bending to their level. “You two doing okay?”
They nodded vigorously, their mouths full. “Vegetables, too,” Hayley said. They made faces, then after a glance at their dad, nodded. She tipped her head to Nash. “How is it?”
“Incredible.” He didn’t look up.
“Sorta ticked you off, huh?”
Now he did look at her. He stared, dumbfounded for a second as he chewed.
“Admit it. You didn’t think I could handle it.”
He swallowed. “I admit to nothing.”
“Careful, Nash, your testosterone is dripping.” His gaze narrowed and she blinked sweetly, then straightened, accepting compliments as she left the room.
Nash gazed down the length of the table, realizing there was no place setting for her. He left his chair and went into the kitchen. She was seated at the worktable on a high stool, her face in a medical book as she ate. She looked like a pixie figurine, her head bowed, the fork poised. The lonely picture made his heart drop, and forced him to see how little family she’d had in her life. How many times had she dined alone? Spent a holiday alone?
“Hayley.”
She looked up.
“Aren’t you joining us?”
She gave him a patient smile. “I’m the hired help, not a regular one at that.” She’d done this kind of work enough to know it just wasn’t wise to include herself at the dinner table.
“I’m sure the girls would like it.”
“But I wouldn’t.”
His brows drew down and he stepped closer.
Her heart immediately picked up its pace. “I’m temporary, Nash. I don’t want to give the girls any ideas just because you and I knew each other once.”
“Know each other,” he corrected, his eyes speaking volumes.
In the biblical sense, the long nights they’d spent exploring each other. It was hard to erase those images and even harder right now to remember the heartache she’d suffered. Especially when he looked at her the way he was now. With heat and memory.
She put the fork down, shaking her head. “Don’t go there, please.”
He moved closer, his broad-shouldered presence blocking out the light. “Hayley.”
“No, Nash.” She tipped her head back and met his gaze.
The sheen in her sable eyes knocked the breath from his lungs.
“I can’t look at you across a dinner table without remembering that you walked away from me without a word.” Her voice lowered to a heart-wrenching whisper. “Without remembering what it was like to be loved by you.” Her lower lip quivered.
Nash felt sliced to ribbons. “Hayley. I need to tell—”
“No. You don’t. Michelle told me all I needed.”
His eyes darkened with suppressed anger. “I can just imagine.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m a stone’s throw away from my residency.”
He straightened. “And like before, nothing is going to stop you.”
She reared back a bit. “Can you blame me? I’ve worked hard for my degree.”
“I know you have. But we both can see there’s still something here between us.”
“We can’t relive the past. Too much has gone on.”
“I know I’ve hurt you—”
She laughed, a short bitter sound. “Don’t assume to know how I feel, Nash. As I recall, you never bothered to ask that seven years ago.” He started to speak and she put up her hand. “It makes no difference to me now.”
Nash ground his teeth. It did matter. Even if she was too stubborn to admit it. His daughters’ and the ranch hands’ voices filtered to the kitchen. This was not the place or the time to discuss this. But they would, dammit. They would. And are you prepared to tell her the truth? a voice pestered.
“Spend the time with your children, Nash. Ask how long they treaded water.” She focused on the book and again Nash felt dismissed in his own house. He turned to the doorway. “And they helped make supper, too,” she added.
That was a hint to praise them, and Nash felt like a heel for leaving the girls all the time. But that couldn’t be helped and was the singular reason Hayley was here. He stepped back into the dining room.
Hayley bowed her head, clutching the book to her chest and swallowing the tears threatening to erupt. She thought she’d dealt with this years ago. Hadn’t she gone on with her life? Hadn’t she focused ever bit of energy on her education? Yet she was here, in his house, working for him and she hated it. Hated the reminders that said she’d never let him out of her heart. Oh, Lord. How could she ever forgive him when it hurt so badly just to see what she’d lost? The worst of it was that she’d loved him back then very deeply, and when he’d asked her to put her education on hold, to marry him and raise a family, she’d almost conceded. They’d fought over it. He just couldn’t understand that she’d dreamed of being a doctor since she was a child. She couldn’t let anything stop her then, and he was unwilling to compromise. Besides, she didn’t know a thing about having a home and family. She’d had little of that herself. She’d wanted her career and knew if she’d given in to him, she’d never have gone back to school, and she would have resented him for it.
However, she never expected him to go straight into Michelle’s arms.
Michelle had had her sights on Nash the instant he and Hayley had started dating. Hayley had known that, but she’d just never believed her own sorority sister would betray her or that Nash would fall for Michelle’s helpless-Southern-belle bit. But that was only part of it. Hayley wasn’t good enough for him. She didn’t have the social graces, the impeccable background that Michelle Criswell had. Michelle was a socialite; she traveled in Nash’s social circles, possessing all the proper qualities a man like Nash needed in a wife. Hayley, on the other hand, was nearly poverty-stricken, on scholarships and working two jobs to survive. She could never measure up to the Rayburn two-hundred-year-old lineage.
Michelle had flashed her indecently large engagement ring in her face and victoriously said just that.
Hayley sniffled and swallowed, reaching for a napkin to dry her tears. Then, she couldn’t have made plans till she had her MD, and she couldn’t now.
Nash’s deep voice rumbled through the distance to the kitchen, making her heart skip and she looked up at the wall separating the kitchen and dining room. It’s too late to go back, she thought.
“Calm down, Hayley.”
“Calm down?” she said into the phone. “I swear, Kat, if I was there, I’d—”
“Beat me senseless about the head and shoulders?”
Hayley’s lips curved in a smile and she sighed. “Yeah. But that would ruin your hairdo.” She sank onto the bed, rubbing her forehead. “How could you do this to me?”
“Sugah, it was fate, I swear it. He called and you were next on the list, available.”
“Didn’t you consider the position you put me in?”
“You can handle him. You’re a strong woman, Hayley.”
“And his former lover.”
“It would have been rude to mention that.”
“He doesn’t want me here.”
“How do you know that?”
Hayley scoffed. “I’m a bad penny turning up, Kat, and the fact that I’m inches from residency is just one reminder of why we split.”
“And Michelle didn’t have a thing to do with it, right?”
Hayley didn’t want to talk about Michelle. She was dead, part of the past, unchangeable. No one, not even Kat, knew the details of Nash’s marriage. It was as if he’d shut out the world then. And it was too painful a subject to approach, especially with Nash. “Michelle didn’t tackle him till he and I argued. Besides, she had all the right qualities, obviously, and—”
“That’s bunk.”
“—it wouldn’t have worked,” Hayley said as if Kat hadn’t spoken. “He wanted a wife and mother. I wanted a career. I still want that. Besides, I don’t have time.”
“You have two weeks.”
Hayley didn’t bother to comment on that. “Fine, be that way.” Kat paused and then said, “So, how’s he look?”
Smiling at the purely feminine interest in Kat’s voice, Hayley shook her head and flopped back onto the pillows. “Well, you know how fine wine gets with age.”
“Oh, lawd, he must be devastating.”
“An understatement.” Wealthy, commanding, handsome, strong-willed and, as she recalled, a great kisser. What more could a girl ask for?
Kat’s voice broke back into her thoughts. “His daughters?”
She smiled. “Beautiful. Sweet, well behaved.”
“You’re falling in love with them.”
“Anyone with a heart would.”
“And their daddy?”
“That is a dead subject, Kat. But…”
Kat jumped on her hesitation. “But what?”
“Nothing…it’s nothing.”
“Dag-gummit, Hayley Ann!”
Hayley smiled. Let her stew, she thought. Kat deserves to be left out in the cold. Not that there was anything to tell. “You know, Katherine, what goes around comes around.”
“Hah! I wish something long-legged and slow talkin’ like Nashville Rayburn would come calling around me.”
Nashville. She’d forgotten about that little secret. “Careful what you wish for, you tart.”
“Pest. Always were. Worst little sister I’ve ever sponsored.” The love in Kat’s tone was unmistakable.
Hayley heard voices, and frowning, she walked to her bedroom door and opened it, peering into the hall. It was coming from the girls’ quarters upstairs. “I’ve got to go. I can hear Nash hollering, and he sounds like he’s going to bust a vein or something.”
“Well, you just go to him, then, sugah.”
Distracted, Hayley didn’t recognize the smugness in Katherine’s voice before she cut the line and tossed the phone on the bed.
Had she, she might not have gone upstairs.
“Kimberly Grace Rayburn, open this door!”
“I can’t, Daddy!”
“I promised not to come in, but you promised not to lock the door.”
“We’re fine, Daddy. We’re not babies.”
“But you’re my babies.” They just giggled. “I can get it open, you know.”
“No!” the twins wailed.
Nash sighed, falling back against the wall and rubbing his hand over his face. They’d been at this for ten minutes and he didn’t want them bathing without supervision. Why were they so shy around him lately?
“It’s normal.”
He opened his eyes to find Hayley standing nearby, a stack of towels in her arms. “I’m their father,” he said.
“You’re a male to them right now and they don’t want you to see them naked.”
“But I’ve seen them every day for five years!” He made a frustrated sound, then said, “They could drown!”
Hayley stepped close, knocking softly. “Hey, girls, can I come in?”
There was a bit of discussion in there and Hayley offered Nash a weak smile. Then the door lock clicked. Nash scowled. Hayley stepped inside. Nash started to move in, too, but Hayley waved him back, leaving the door open a discreet crack.
“What, no bubbles?”
“Bubbles?” The twins looked at each other and smiled. “Mrs. Winslow never let us have bubbles. She makes us hurry.”
Nash scowled at that and he leaned against the wall, out of sight.
“Well,” Hayley said, settling to the floor and taking up the washcloth and soap, “sometimes it’s necessary, but a lady needs to soak in a bathtub of bubbles once in a while. It’s a luxury we are allowed.”
“Why?” Nash said from the hall.
“Because we are females, Nash. It’s that time when we paint our toenails, ponder world affairs, pretty gowns, handsome men—” she winked at the girls, shampooing their hair “—soothe broken hearts and plan our futures.”
“Broken hearts” clung to his mind and his throat tightened. Her voice was soft, her Southern accent refined and cultured, like his mom’s. “I don’t see the point of it,” he said. “Get in, get out. Turning into a prune is a waste of time.”
Hayley rolled her eyes and the girls copied her. “That’s why you are a man and we are women. You will never understand.”
“A girl thing,” he said.
“Yes. Okay, ladies, time to rinse.”
This was the hard part, Nash thought. Kate was scared to death of getting soap in her eyes. The water ran, but he didn’t hear the usual complaints, and he peeked inside the room. Kate had a washcloth pressed tightly over her eyes and Hayley was doing her best to keep it from getting wet. Well, heck, he did that all the time, but got nothing but screams. When Kate was done, Hayley wrapped her head in a towel, then focused on Kim. Nash darted back when they stepped from the tub.
A few minutes later Kate said, “Okay, Daddy, you can come in now.”
Nudging the door open, he swung around the door frame and smiled. “I knew my babies were under all that dirt.” He kissed each twin, then reached for the comb. Kim winced before he even started.
Standing behind Kate, Hayley cleared her throat. He looked. She worked through the tangles in record time and Nash copied her moves, starting from the bottom in small increments. Kim twisted, looking at him and smiling. While they blow-dried pounds of hair, Nash’s gaze kept slipping to Hayley’s reflection in the mirror. She looked like the wild redhead he’d fallen in love with, and he’d never allowed himself to imagine her like this, with his daughters. He didn’t want to consider how good it felt to have her here. She wasn’t staying.
“You both have such beautiful hair,” Hayley said, stroking the brush through Kate’s long curls. Nash smiled at Kate’s contented expression. She was almost purring.
The girls thanked her politely. “Daddy thinks we should get it cut.”
Her gaze slid to Nash’s. “That might not be such a bad idea, just for the summer. It is hot.” His shoulders drooped a little and Hayley could tell he was relieved by the suggestion. “Think about it. We can look at magazines for a cut you’d like.” The girls weren’t receptive.
“Bedtime,” Nash said.
The girls headed to their room, which was most of the upper floor, while Hayley gathered the wet towels.
“Thanks, Hayley.”
She straightened, smiling.
“I would have spent half the night trying to get that bath done, with twice as much mess and a bucket of tears. I’m grateful.”
Warmth spread through her. “No problem.”
“I’ve been going through girl-panic like that for a week now.”
“Just respect their privacy. Believe me, this is just the start of it.” He groaned, reaching to help clean up, but she stayed his hand. “I have it. Go to your daughters.”
He nodded, then walked into the bedroom and settled the girls into bed. He was at a disadvantage, just being male, and he realized how much his daughters enjoyed a younger more sympathetic female than Mrs. Winslow in the house. Mrs. Winslow was always ready to go home about this time of night, he recalled, and now he wondered if she was really ill or just tired.
Hayley stepped into the bedroom half an hour later and found Nash asleep in the chair between the twin beds, a storybook on his chest and his hands clasped around each of his daughters’. The tender scene stabbed through her with a longing so keen her breath snagged in her chest. Oh, to be loved and needed like this, she thought. To have a home and family. Nash was trying hard to be both father and mother and make a living at the same time, and she thought of how hard it must have been for her own father, raising her alone. She glanced around the room, just now noticing that, while there were several framed photos of Nash and the girls and other relatives, there were none of Michelle. None anywhere else in the house, either. Nor had the girls mentioned her. Not once. But then, Hayley thought, she rarely spoke of her own mother, her memories too faint to recall. Kim and Kate probably had no recollection of their mother. Since Michelle had died when they were infants, they’d never known her and really had no concept of her. Was that why there were no pictures?
Hayley moved to Nash, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He stirred.
“You’re going to regret it in the morning if you sleep in that chair all night,” she whispered close to his ear.
His lips curved softly, his eyes still closed. “You still have the sweetest voice, Hayley.”
“Say that when I get hopping mad.”
His forehead wrinkled for a second. He’d never seen her mad. Not even hurt, really. He’d never given her the chance. He opened his eyes. Hayley was covering up his children, tucking their stuffed toys close. Her hand lingered over Kim’s hair, and his throat tightened at the sight. Her expression was incredibly tender, and Nash thought of how easily Hayley gave, as if she’d known his girls for years.
He looked at his babies. How could their mother have walked away without a backward glance? The memory tormented him at times like this, when he knew his girls were missing a mother. He reminded himself that Hayley was temporary. And he didn’t want his daughters to get so attached to her they’d be hurt when she left. But with Hayley, he thought, as she whispered good-night and swept past him, well, it was just plain hard to keep “temporary” in his mind.
Nash stayed in his office most of the next day, working on bids for the coming auction. The house was surprisingly quiet, and though he made progress in his work, the lack of activity and his curiosity forced him out. The house was immaculate, and something heavenly simmered on the stove. He sampled a taste of the stew, nearly burning his tongue. He called out. No answer. And he realized just how big this house was when he was alone. A rare occurrence, he knew. Grabbing his hat and striding to the front door, he flung it open and stepped onto the porch. He spied Hayley out by her car, then trotted down the steps and crossed the driveway.
With his daughters playing close by, she was bent under the open hood of her car, grease on one bare thigh.
Nash peered under the hood. “Good Lord, is that a pair of panty hose for a fan belt?”
She jerked upright, knocking her head into his chin.
“Ow, yes, it is.” She rubbed her head. “A girl has to make do when she’s alone on a dark country road.”
“All the more reason to get a better car. This thing is falling apart.”
“Not quite yet.” She leaned back under the hood to adjust the panty-hose belt. “Besides, Lurlene just needs a rest, dontcha, baby?” She patted the fender. “Can you hand me the torque wrench?” She waved at the toolbox behind her. He pushed the wrench into her hand.
“Why are you fixing this now?” he asked when she straightened.
“The girls and I are going to the market to pick up some household stuff.”
His features tightened. “You’re not taking my children anywhere in that pile of junk!”
“Shh.” She covered up a headlight as if covering ears. “Insults won’t make Lurlene your friend, Nash.”
His lips twitched. Hayley always did have a great sense of humor.
“So what do you propose I do?” she asked.
He folded his arms over his chest and called for Jimmy Lee. The ranch hand came around the corner of the barn, hopped the fence and strode toward them.
“Yeah, boss?”
“Bring the sedan around for Miss Albright, will you?”
“Sedan?” Hayley said, looking for one in the yard. There were half a dozen trucks, flatbeds, and five horse trailers neatly lined up behind the breeding barn, but no sedan.
“Want me to drive her?” Jimmy asked.
Nash glared. The man was eyeballing Hayley’s bare legs and cropped T-shirt as if she were spicy barbecue on a summer night. “No, I do not. She’s capable of driving herself and the twins.”
“You trust me with the girls?” Hayley asked.
He met her gaze. “Of course,” he said as if she was foolish to ask.
She smiled, a bright burst of light in dimples and dark-brown eyes. It hit him like a punch to the gut and rocked him to his boot heels. He could get used to seeing that every day, he thought as she took off like a shot, as usual, to the house to change her clothes. Someone ought to tie her down. But he was afraid if someone did, her impatient energy would drill a hole straight to China.
Two hours later Hayley drove back up the long gravel lane in his sedan. A Mercedes sedan, she thought, running her hand over the leather-covered steering wheel. The corporate car, he’d called it. It looked as if it had never been used. Even smelled new—and expensive. But then, he could afford to be extravagant. Before she and the twins had left, he’d told her to charge all she needed on his credit line, and anyone else might have been tempted to go hog-wild. But Hayley had pinched pennies for too long to go loose now.
She frowned when she pulled into the spot nearest the house and realized her car was missing. Climbing out, she shooed the girls inside and went to the trunk for the groceries. She had two sacks in her arms when Nash, on a beautiful chestnut stallion, rode down from the hill. He stopped on the edge of the driveway, and she tried not to notice how sexy he looked.
“Where’s my car?” she asked.
“I had it towed.”
Her gaze narrowed and she cocked her head. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a piece of junk and dangerous, Hayley.”
“And it’s my piece of junk, not yours.”
“If you’re worried about your things, I had them delivered to your room.”
How good of His Lordship, she thought. “It’s my car, Nash.”
His brow knitted. “Lurlene is held together with tape, panty hose and gum, darlin’. Give her a decent burial and get another.”
“If I could afford one, don’t you think I would be driving it?”
“I’ll buy you one, then.”
Instantly she dumped the bags back in the trunk. “Get down off that horse so I can yell at you right proper.” She pointed to the ground in case he misunderstood.
Smothering a smile, he swung down, tugging the fingers of his gloves as he walked closer.
She was in his face. “I don’t need your charity, Nash Rayburn. And I resent the hell out of you taking charge of my car.”
“If you want it back, I’ll just make a call.”
Her anger withered a bit. “Yes, I do. You do that. Right now.”
He nudged his hat back. “I was only trying to help.”
“You were manipulating. Doing what you damn well please because you have the money. Here’s a novel approach,” she said, wide-eyed and sarcastic. “How about asking me how I feel?”
“You would have said no.”
“But you went ahead, pretty as you please.”
“I can’t have you driving that thing.”
His superior look made her want to kick him. “Why? An embarrassment to you?”
“No, dammit, you could get hurt.”
She held his gaze steadily, yet her voice wavered. “Any more than I already have been shouldn’t matter to you, Nash.”
She turned away and grabbed the grocery bags, sidestepping out of his reach when he tried to help.
“Hayley!”
“Don’t talk to me till Lurlene is sitting next your stuck-up sedan!”
She didn’t talk to him. She wouldn’t even acknowledge him at dinner until the tow truck pulled away. And then she just gave him a “Don’t try that again or you’ll be sorry” glare and headed into the house, his five-year-old traitors tucked by her side.
He looked at the rusted blue two-door coupe. Then he kicked it. The bumper fell off the back.
“I saw that!” came a voice from the house, and Nash had to smile. Having Hayley Albright around certainly made life interesting. Again.

Three
He’d been fine.
Just damn fine, controlling his desire for her, avoiding her when he wanted to touch her so badly. Until he’d walked around the back of the house, purely by chance to look for his misplaced pocket knife, and saw her naked.
Well, almost naked.
Bare-chested, Nash slammed the ax into the wood, its splintering crack vibrating over the hillside.
She might as well have been naked for all the skin that bathing suit hid.
He kept his back to the house and put another log on the stump, bringing the ax down again. Then another and another, until the waistband of his jeans was drenched with sweat. It didn’t do a damn thing for the unsatisfied desire running heavily through his blood.
He split another log, then threw down the ax, and stacked the wood for curing till winter. He didn’t look toward the house or the pool deck. Because she was there. In a hot pink bikini. Tonga style. He closed his eyes and briefly shook his head. He was in real danger and hoped the ranch hands didn’t get a look at all that flesh.
She’d cause a stampede.
He added another split log to the seven-foot-high stack, then swept up the ax again. The blow sent two halves flying outward.
“Hi.”
Head bowed, Nash propped the ax head on the stump, his wrist on the handle top. He didn’t turn around. “Hi yourself.”
“Aren’t you even going to look at me?” Hayley asked.
“You still wearing that scrap of nothing you call a swimsuit?”
“Yes, I am.” He heard a light laugh. “Nash. This is silly.”
He flipped the ax up and placed another log on the stump. He split it and even without looking, he felt her flinch.
“What did I do?”
“Nothing.”
“Nash.” He could hear the hurt in her voice. “If this is about the car—”
“Go on back to the girls,” he interrupted.
“Gladly, boss. Enjoy your own company.”
Nash cursed under his breath. It wasn’t the stupid car. It was her! Seeing her, wanting her, even arguing with her slammed desire and regret through him. The guilt over what he’d done, what honor and duty had pushed him to do at her expense made him angry. With himself. He didn’t deserve her kindness. He didn’t deserve her thoughtful gestures or her concern. Or anything else for that matter. And that he couldn’t alleviate his guilt in telling the truth was a burden that wore on him the longer she was near. He wanted to, but his sins were just too ugly. She’d never forgive him, anyway, he thought, and wished the two weeks were over and she was gone. And at the same time he prayed they’d never end. Wish in one hand and spit in the other and see what you get, he thought.
He glanced over his shoulder. She was walking down the hillside toward the pool where his daughters were having a snack in the shade of the stone veranda. He absorbed everything about her as she moved, noticing not only that she wore a cover-up over that too-hot-tobe-legal bikini, but that her head was bowed and she hugged herself.
He felt like a first-class heel. Then his gaze fell on another splitting stump a few feet away. A pitcher of ice water sparkled in the hot sun, beside it a glass and wrapped sandwich, a little plastic horse on a toothpick stuck in the center.
Nash groaned.
Something had to be done. Soon.
Or he was going to go just plain nuts.
Nash rushed the horse, trying to get the animal to obey his commands, but it wasn’t going well. He attributed that to his wandering mind, and that irritated him to no end. He hadn’t seen Hayley since breakfast, and that had been a little strained, especially after his unfounded harshness the day before. Last night after the girls went to bed, she’d disappeared into her room, and he hadn’t bothered her, afraid that whatever he said would just stamp “You’re so hot, I can’t even think straight” across his forehead. She made him too aware of the fact that he was a man and she was a beautiful woman.
And how good it had once been between them.
And how he’d blown it.
He heard giggles and glanced up, catching a glimpse of Hayley and his daughters heading for the chicken coop. She was wearing jeans, boots and a lime-green T-shirt, like his girls, and he thought how cute the three of them looked. Hayley’s red hair gleamed in the sunlight.
“They sure do like her,” Seth said from a few feet away.
“Yeah,” Nash said, not taking his eyes off the trio.
“Want me to go see if they need help?”
“She’ll come for it if she needs it.” One thing he remembered about Hayley was that she could do just about anything she set her mind to.
Nash turned to the horse, swinging up onto the bare back. The wild thing bucked, sending his hat to the ground, yet he held on, riding out the mare’s temper. Slipping off, he led the horse around the ring, his daughters’ laughter breaking through his concentration. He glanced and waved before his gaze swung to Hayley. She looked worried. He scooped up his hat and turned back to the horse, trying to ignore her. But his gaze kept straying to her as the girls showed her how to spread a little grain on the ground, then fill the troughs for the chicken and pigs. They collected eggs and he could see Hayley’s sour expression from here. He smirked. Well, at least she’ll get a taste of real ranching, he thought, then remembered how Michelle had protested against going within twenty feet of the coop. He should have seen that coming, recognized her true distaste for ranching. Or was it just him? Irritated with his train of thought, especially when he could scarcely drag Michelle’s image from the waste of his mind, he led the horse into the barn. He’d just handed over the currying to Jimmy when he heard his daughters scream.

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