He pushed both hands through his hair, and Chloe had begun to recognize it as a move he made when he was giving himself a little extra time to figure out just what he wanted to say. She gave him that time as she struggled to pull her boots on, then stamped her feet into them.
“This isn’t going anywhere but a bed, Chloe.”
She looked up at him. He’d taken time to think and that’s what he’d come up with? “I’m sorry?”
“I’m not looking for a wife.”
Chloe shook her head. “I’ll make a note.”
“Now you’re pissed.”
“Getting there,” she admitted, staring at him. One minute, she was sure he was seeing her for who she really was. And the next, it was clear he didn’t. “Liam, I’m not looking for a husband. I’m looking for a campsite. Remember?”
“Not likely to forget that, am I?”
“Well then, stop tacking other things onto what was a simple deal,” she said. “I do this for a few weeks, prove to you I’m willing and able, and you give me the land for the camp.”
“Yeah...”
He dragged that one word out into about fifteen syllables.
“You know, women are allowed to like sex as much as a man does.”
“Oh yeah, believe me I know,” he assured her. “And I’m grateful. I just don’t want any misunderstandings between us.”
“Okay, I give you that,” she said. “And it’s decent of you to be straight and upfront about how you feel.”
He frowned a little.
“That said, I’ve been upfront too.” She trailed her fingertips down the front of his shirt. “I want that camp. That’s what I’m concentrating on right now. So I’m here to work. To learn. And, at the end of every day, we get to have sex and there’s no strings. For either of us.”
“In theory, it sounds perfect,” Liam mused as he caught her hand in his. “Like every single man’s dream.”
“And single woman’s, trust me,” Chloe told him. “Not every woman needs hearts and flowers to enjoy sex. And we’re not all looking for a husband.”
He grinned. “Is that right?”
“It is. I’m not looking for promises of forever, Liam, so why don’t we both just relax and enjoy what we have, okay?”
“I’ll make a note,” he said wryly, throwing her words back at her.
Chloe’s lips twitched. Honestly, the man touched her on so many levels. He listened when she talked. He smiled at the most intimate moments. He touched her, and she alternately exploded or melted. He made her laugh, made her angry, made her feel so much.
There were too many feelings for Liam Morrow rattling around inside her. He was important to her, but if she told him that right now, he’d go pale and walk away. If she was starting to care more for him than she’d planned on, well, that would remain her little secret. As she’d said, she didn’t need hearts and flowers, but she was starting to think she’d actually found them without looking.
Shutting down that train of thought fast, she said, “I’ve got to go finish the stalls.”
“Chloe—”
She held up one hand to cut off his argument. “It’s my job, Liam, and I can do it.”
“Hardheaded woman,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t know why I like it so much. Okay, if you’re going to do it, give me your hand.”
She did, then he picked up the tin of salve he’d tossed onto the desk before their encounter. Carefully, he rubbed a thick, pale ointment onto her palm and the reddening blister. Chloe didn’t know which felt better—his touch or that soothing cream. He put her glove back on, looked her directly in the eye and said, “Go on then. I’ll see you at the house after work.”
She reached up, grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his head down to hers. Then she kissed him, hard and fast, and gave him a wide grin. “That’s a date, cowboy.”
Seven
She moved into his room that night, and they’d been together ever since. Liam’s brain swam with images of how the two of them had spent the last few nights, and his body turned to stone. The woman was going to kill him.