Resisting the Rancher (Redwood Falls 3)

He lifted his head and wrapped his fingers around her chin. “Honey, it doesn’t need to work forever. Just while you’re here.” Even as he said the words, he wondered if he believed them. Having her in his bed had been damn good. She was sweet and pretty and so damn silky he could barely keep his hands off her. If he kept sleeping with her, would he be able to give her up? Hell, he had no idea and it didn’t really matter anyway. Right now, all he needed was her agreement. “It’ll work. It’ll work for a while, at least. You’re good with Zach, he likes you.”

“Do you like me?” she whispered, lifting her eyes and giving him a look that would have torn at his heart if the damn thing hadn’t been encased in ice.

Damn, her heart was in her eyes and what the hell was he supposed to say? “What’s not to like, sweetheart?” But still, she asked a damn good question. She was pretty and sweet and she seemed like a nice person, but he didn’t really know

her all that well. And what he did feel for her wasn’t something as innocuous as ‘like.’ What he felt was a driving need to mate with her, to sleep with her repeatedly.

“It’s too soon, Jeff,” she argued softly. “I can’t deny that you’re tempting me, though. But that’s the evil part of me. I have to admit that it was—” she stalled and swallowed, “good. And maybe I’d like to do it again, but marriage?” She shook her head, not as if she were denying him, but like she was too confused to go on.

“Why not? I have a lot to offer, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed—I’d have to be blind not to notice. And that’s another reason that marriage would be wrong. It’s more than obvious that you’re rich and I’m—not. What would people think?”

“What the hell does it matter what anybody thinks?”

“Easy for you to say! Redwood Falls is a small town and I bet the gossip would be rampant if you married me—especially this soon. Nobody would disparage you—it would fall back to me—I’d get the flak—I’d get decimated. They’d call me mercenary and a gold digger. I can hear it now.”

He didn’t like the scenario she was outlining—it pissed him off. “Nobody would call you a gold digger.”

“Seriously? Are you kidding me? It might be news to you, but a lot of women aren’t nice. They’re jealous and spiteful—and you’re too good-looking for people to ignore. I bet they talk about you all the time.”

He supposed now wasn’t the right time to tell her exactly how many women over the years had been after him. After his wife had lost the fight to cancer—well, who would have thought that there were so many single women in Redwood Falls? They’d come out of the woodwork, bringing meals, desserts, and simply showing up at his front door as if they’d only been ‘passing by’. That excuse had been such a crock of shit—he lived too far out in the country for anyone to ‘pass by’.

But as he listened to her fears, he had to admit that her conclusion could be accurate. The people of the county (the women, especially) seemed to be more than interested in every detail that happened on the Bar M. He couldn’t shut down the gossip entirely, because the men who worked for him went home and shared shit with their wives—and the wives, in turn, shared whatever they’d learned with every damn person they could find who would listen.

And Janet didn’t know about any of that, she was only speculating about what could happen.

It was a situation he hadn’t considered. He’d have to make damn sure no one talked about her or her baby, because the last thing, the very last thing he wanted was for her to be unhappy here.

If she was unhappy here, she’d be unhappy in his bed, and he couldn’t have that.

And now, with his hands clenched around her upper arms and her brilliant blue eyes radiating an almost innocent trust that he’d figure everything out, he was suddenly conflicted about his motives and couldn’t understand why. A wave of what felt suspiciously like guilt floated around before zapping him like an electrical prod. Was he ruthless enough to take this girl’s life and mold it into exactly what he wanted? What was convenient for him and his son?

He’d like to think not, but exactly as he knew he was about to walk outside and light a cigarette against his better judgment, he also understood that it was probably too damn late to alter the course that had been set in motion the night before—he was already well and truly addicted to the girl and he knew, he just goddamn knew, that he wouldn’t be able to stay away from her for long.

With his psyche in turmoil, he kissed her on the forehead. “We’ll worry about it later,” he announced before turning and slamming out the back door for his smoke.

****

At mid-morning on Monday, Janet stood in the kitchen unloading a box of groceries that was part of a much larger delivery. She found herself chatting with the grocer’s wife, who’d brought the supplies out to the ranch. Mrs. Rigsby was around mid-forties, a tall, thin sturdy woman who seemed friendly enough.

Some fifteen minutes before, Janet had heard the van door close on the back drive and realized it must be the grocery delivery. Undoubtedly a delivery that had been going on for years, before Janet could get to the door, the woman had walked through the mudroom after only a cursory knock.

Janet had never met the woman, and as they stared for a moment at each other in surprise, the sound of ringing boots followed the woman inside as Jeff appeared behind her. “Gladys. How you doin’?” he asked as he dropped a box on the table.

The grocer’s wife swung around. “I’m good, Jeffrey. Who’s this?” the woman asked without preamble, obviously more than curious about Janet.

“Your husband didn’t tell you I found a housekeeper? He was the one who directed her here.”

“No, he didn’t. That man only talks when he wants to,” the woman snapped, irritated with her husband. “You’d think he’d know that I’d be interested,” she said as she studied Janet with curiosity.

Jeff waved his hand between the two of them in an informal introduction. “Gladys Rigsby, this is Janet Smith. Janet, I guess you’ve figured out this is Rigsby’s wife.”

Janet moved forward and reached out a hand, which was warmly clasped. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, darlin’,” the woman replied before glancing at Jeff once again. “Where’s Jonah today? Did he hit Fort Worth again last night? Too hung over to unload your groceries as usual?”

Janet stood back and surveyed the scene taking place in front of her. She’d never heard of an employee called Jonah before, not that she knew any of the employees who worked here. At the woman’s question, Jeff glanced away from the grocer’s wife as his features tautened, before finally answering, “Nah—he’s okay—but I’ve got him moving the herd this morning.”

Janet had only known the rancher a week, but she could tell the questions had made him tense. She didn’t know why, but she wasn’t allowed to ponder the reason very long as both he and Gladys Rigsby began the walk to and from her van, unloading so many boxes of groceries that it almost blew Janet’s mind.

****

Noon was almost upon her as she listened for signs that her baby was really down for a nap. Sometimes, Hannah surprised her. Janet would put her down but the nap wouldn’t take—and then she’d have to start over from scratch. But now, as she sat with pen and pad, ready to take inventory of all the food that she’d put away so she could plan a weekly menu, she breathed a sigh of relief that Hannah was asleep for a while. And Zach was at school, so that meant she had a small moment of peace, at least until Jeff came in for his lunch.

The day before, he’d seemed adamant that they would carry on with an affair no matter what, although he’d stated loud and clear that it couldn’t happen in front of his son. So last night, she’d expected him to show up at her room after the kids had gone to sleep. But he hadn’t done that and she couldn’t figure him out.

And now, at a quarter to twelve, she knew she needed to get his lunch ready, because he’d be ready to eat at noon sharp.

Just as she had the thought, she heard the back door opening and then closing again. Expecting to hear the sound of his boots against the tile, when she heard nothing she glanced around and saw him sitting on the bench in the mudroom, taking off his boots and socks—and he was doing so in complete and utter silence.

He looked up and she froze under the onslaught of his stare. “Baby asleep?” he asked in a low-pitched rumble that was barely audible from where she stood.

When she nodded her head, his gaze became more focused, a primal, territorial hunger appearing in his eyes that threatened to monopolize her completely. He stood up from the bench and turned the lock on the back door—a door that she’d never seen locked since she’d arrived at the Bar M.

He strode toward her on bare, sexy feet, reaching out and encapsulating her wrist between his fingers with a possessive move that made her stomach flip. He began leading her through the house and when he’d reached his study, he pulled her inside an

d released her. He shut and locked the door in a seamless, silent move that screamed sexual intent.

And now she knew. As she stood in front of the window and watched him watching her with libidinous purpose, it all suddenly made sense. Now she knew why he hadn’t come to her room the night before, and now she knew how he planned to continue getting his way.

It was simple, he would wait until Zach was at school and Hannah was asleep. At the dawning realization, a shower of stars cascaded through her system, weakening her, making her want to surrender to him without fight or argument.

As a premonition of how the school week might play out, she didn’t know if she was relieved by his continued pursuit or lacerated by his inflexible determination to get his own way.

It didn’t really matter, she had zero time to ponder the situation. He was on her in a heartbeat. He reached out and manacled her wrist once again. Pulling her to him, he released her wrist and wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her against him, and then he pulled the cord on the plantation blinds to close them.

Her physical reaction was immediate. Arousal shot through her system like quicksilver. She wasn’t particularly proud of it, but she couldn’t help it. He was so sexy; he did it for her and his touch was going to her head, pushing her out of control.

Most of the light left the room, and her mouth shot open, to say what, she wasn’t quite sure as the thought hadn’t fully formed in her head.

But she never got the chance to breathe a word. Holding her around the waist, his other hand whipped up and covered her mouth in a hold that was unbreakable. She could plainly see his eyes sharpen and then narrow, even in the darkened room. “Not a word, Janet-girl,” he warned in a low, harsh tone. “The baby’s asleep and you’re not going to screw that up, got it? Any beef you have with me can be voiced loud and clear—after this is over, understand?”

After this was over. He meant the sex that was about to happen, and against her will, she felt herself softening even more for him, her limbs becoming sluggish as the air turned heavy around them.