Tempted By The Texan

Resigned, she walked over to slip on her high heels and gather her jacket and purse. “I don’t suppose your men had a chance to see about my car?”

He dug into the front pocket of his jeans and, producing the keys to her car, handed them to her. “All you needed was a new battery.”

When he placed the keys in her hand, his fingers brushed her palm and a streak of electricity zinged straight up her arm. She could tell by the slight tightening of his jaw that he felt it, as well.

“I’ll pay you for the repair as soon as I get a new job,” she said, walking toward the door.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, following her. “It didn’t cost that much.”

“I most certainly will pay you back for the battery. I may be out of a job right now, but I do have my pride,” Mariah said, turning back to glare at him. “I’m not a charity case.”

“I never thought you were,” he said, looking a little bewildered. “I’m just trying to help you out.”

“I don’t need your help,” she said pointedly. “The only thing I need from you is an explanation of what changed between us and why you’re wanting to go back to the way things were. But you refuse to talk to me about it.”

She knew she was probably overreacting to the situation. But she was frustrated beyond reason and besides, if she didn’t vent in some way, she couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t bop him on top of his stubborn head with her purse.

“Do you have any prospects of finding another job?” Jaron asked, following her out the door. “Do you need help making the rent since your roommate moved out? I could loan you—”

“Don’t you dare offer me money,” she warned, her anger rising to the boiling point. “After last night, you would be the last person I—”

“I’d like to do something to help,” he interrupted, reaching up to run his hand through his dark brown hair as if he was trying to think of a way to help her out. He hesitated for a moment before he offered, “I still need a housekeeper who cooks. And the job comes with free room and board. You could work here until something better comes along.” He didn’t sound all that encouraging, and she knew it was nothing more than a token gesture. He didn’t want her to take the job and had only offered it to her because he felt guilty.

“You’re offering me a job and a place to live?” she asked incredulously. She didn’t know whether to laugh out loud at his erroneous assumption that she could cook or be highly insulted that he thought she was so desperate she would accept his offer.

“The job is yours if you want it,” he said, looking less than enthusiastic about having her around all the time. She had no doubt he expected her to turn it down and that was exactly what she intended to do.

“No, thank you,” Mariah answered as she carefully descended the steps. If her mother hadn’t taught her to be a lady, she’d gladly tell him what he could do with that job.

As she navigated her way across the yard to the driveway, hoping that she could keep from breaking an ankle or at the very least one of the expensive four-inch heels, she thought about the opportunity Jaron had inadvertently handed her. It would be poetic justice if she did accept the job. By living under the same roof with him, he certainly wouldn’t be able to avoid her, nor would she let him forget the special night they had shared. And as for making his meals, it would serve him right if he had to eat her cooking.

But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. She needed a job, and he owed her an explanation that she was determined to eventually get from him. What better way to do that than by seeing him every day?

The only drawback she could see about taking the job was the possibility of losing what was left of her sanity from dealing with a man who made a habit of closing himself off. And then there was the problem of her sister accusing her of being impulsive again when Bria learned Mariah was living at the ranch with Jaron. But if she could find out the reason behind his insistence that he was no good for her, it would be worth it.

When she got into her car, she glanced up at the house to see Jaron still standing on the porch, watching her. His arms were folded across his broad chest and he was leaning one shoulder against a support post. He looked so darned good to her it took her breath away.

Mariah worried her lower lip as she weighed her options. If she drove away, she might never get the answers she wanted from Jaron. And if she stayed, she might get an explanation that she didn’t want to hear. Unfortunately, she would never know unless she took the chance.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for the door handle. She might be setting herself up for a huge fall, but she just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to settle things with Jaron Lambert once and for all.

* * *

Jaron frowned when he watched Mariah open the car door. What was she doing? She had rejected his guilt-induced job offer outright, and he had been greatly relieved. Why wasn’t she leaving and getting on with her life, so he could try to get on with his? He had made it perfectly clear there was nothing to talk over and that they’d never be more than good friends.

Or could she be having more car trouble? That had to be it, he decided. Her car was older and had so many miles on it that he’d been surprised it had only taken a battery to get it going that morning.

By the time she made her way back to the porch in those ridiculously high heels, he was reaching for the cell phone to call Billy Ray to come up from the barn to see about her car again. But when she climbed the steps to stand in front of him, the defiant look on her pretty face stopped him cold.

“I changed my mind. I’m taking the job you offered me until I can find an office management position. I expect you to be in Shady Grove first thing Saturday morning with your truck to help me move,” she stated flatly. Turning, she added as she descended the steps to go back to her car, “And don’t be late. I want to get settled in before I have to start the job on Monday morning.”

Shocked all the way down to his size-twelve Tony Lamas, all Jaron could do was stand there staring as he watched her march back down the steps and out to her car. As she drove away, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had just happened. He’d only offered her the job of housekeeper and cook as a token gesture because he’d been sure she would turn it down. And she had. So why had she changed her mind?

Rubbing at the sudden tension building at the back of his neck, Jaron watched her car disappear down the lane leading to the main road before he turned and walked back into the house. What was he going to do now? He couldn’t rescind the job offer. He’d brought it up and Mariah had accepted it. As far as he was concerned, that was as good as a written contract.

But what was he going to do about living in the same house with her? How was he going to keep from going completely insane from the temptation she posed day in and day out? And why was there a part of him that wasn’t the least bit sorry that she had taken the job?

Three (#ulink_97b526df-5bcf-557f-ba0c-811f2e179a07)

Late Saturday afternoon, Jaron carried the last of Mariah’s things into the Wild Maverick ranch house and wondered how one woman could possibly need so much stuff. She had two huge boxes alone that had been marked “shoes.” Why did she need so many? All he had were his dress boots, a couple of pairs of work boots and a pair of athletic shoes he wore when he worked out.

For reasons he didn’t want to delve into, he had decided to move her into the room he’d shown her the night he brought her home with him from the Broken Spoke, instead of the housekeeper’s quarters off the kitchen. And it was just as well that he had. The closet down there was way too small and would have never held all of her clothes and shoes.

“Is that the last of the boxes from my car?” Mariah asked, sticking her head out of the walk-in closet when he entered the bedroom.

He nodded. “That’s the last of it.”

“Just be glad I donated a lot of clothes and household items to the crisis center,” she said, laughing as she walked out of the closet to get one of the containers of shoes. “If I hadn’t, you’d probably be carrying in boxes until well after midnight.”