Claim Me, Cowboy

And he shouldn’t even be curious about them.

“All right,” she said. “You can hire somebody. And I’ll learn to ride horses.”

“You’re a tough negotiator,” he said, releasing his hold on her hand.

“Maybe I should go into business.”

He tried to imagine this fragile, spiky creature in a boardroom, and it nearly made him laugh. “If you want to,” he said, instead of laughing. Because he had a feeling she might attack him if he made fun of her. And another feeling that if Danielle attacked, she would likely go straight for the eyes. Or the balls.

He was attached to both of those things, and he liked them attached to him.

“I should go back to the house. Riley might wake up soon. Plus, I’m not entirely sure if I trust the new baby monitor. I mean, it’s probably fine. But I’m going to have to get used to it before I really depend on it.”

“I understand,” he said, even though he didn’t.

He turned and walked with her back toward the house. He kept his eyes on her small, determined frame. On the way, she stuffed her hands in her pockets and hunched her shoulders forward. As though she were trying to look intimidating. Trying to keep from looking at her surroundings in case her surroundings looked back.

And then he reminded himself that none of this mattered. She was just a means to an end, even if she was a slightly more multifaceted means than he had thought she might be.

It didn’t matter how many facets she had. Danielle Kelly needed to fulfill only one objective. She had to be introduced to his parents and be found completely wanting.

He looked back at her, at her determined walk and her posture that seemed to radiate with I’ll cut you.

Yeah. He had a feeling she would fulfill that objective just fine.

Four (#ua1f8a811-e73c-5aa7-845b-669e96871dfd)

Danielle was still feeling wobbly after her interaction with Joshua down at the barn. She had touched a horse. And she had touched him. She hadn’t counted on doing either of those things today. And he had told her they were going to have dinner together tonight and he was going to give her a crash course on the Grayson family. She wasn’t entirely sure she felt ready for that either.

She had gone through all her clothes, looking for something suitable for having dinner with a billionaire. She didn’t have anything. Obviously.

She snorted, feeling like an idiot for thinking she could find something relatively appropriate in that bag of hers. A bag he thought had scabies.

She turned her snort into a growl.

Then, rebelliously, she pulled out the same pair of faded pants she had been wearing yesterday.

He had probably never dealt with a woman who wore the same thing twice. Let alone the same thing two days in a row. Perversely, she kind of enjoyed that. Hey, she was here to be unsuitable. Might as well start now.

She looked in the mirror, grabbed one stringy end of her hair and blew out a disgusted breath. She shouldn’t care how her hair looked.

But he was just so good-looking. It made her feel like a small, brown mouse standing next to him. It wasn’t fair, really. That he had the resources to buy himself nice clothes and that he just naturally looked great.

She sighed, picking Riley up from his crib and sticking him in the little carrier she would put him in for dinner. He was awake and looking around, so she wanted to be in his vicinity, rather than leaving him upstairs alone. He wasn’t a fussy baby. Really, he hardly ever cried.

But considering how often his mother had left him alone in those early days of his life, before Danielle had realized she couldn’t count on her mother to take good care of him, she was reluctant to leave him by himself unless he was sleeping.

Then she paused, going back over to her bag to get the little red, dog-eared dictionary inside. She bent down, still holding on to Riley, and retrieved it. Then she quickly looked up scabies.

“I knew it,” she said derisively, throwing the dictionary back into her bag.

She walked down the stairs and into the dining room, setting Riley in his seat on the chair next to hers. Joshua was already sitting at the table, looking as though he had been waiting for them. Which, she had a feeling, he was doing just to be annoying and superior.

“My bag can’t have scabies,” she said by way of greeting.

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I looked it up. Scabies are mites that burrow into your skin. Not into a duffel bag.”

“They have to come from somewhere.”

“Well, they’re not coming from my bag. They’re more likely to come from your horses, or something.”

“You like my horses,” he said, his tone dry. “Anyway, we’re about to have dinner. So maybe we shouldn’t be discussing skin mites?”

“You’re the one who brought up scabies. The first time.”

“I had pretty much dropped the subject.”

“Easy enough for you to do, since it wasn’t your hygiene being maligned.”

“Sure.” He stood up from his position at the table. “I’m just going to go get dinner, since you’re here. I had it warming.”

“Did you cook?”

He left the room without answering and returned a moment later holding two plates full of hot food. Her stomach growled intensely. She didn’t even care what was on the plates. As far as she was concerned, it was gourmet. It was warm and obviously not from a can or a frozen pizza box. Plus, she was sitting at a real dining table and not on a patio set that had been shoved into her tiny living room.

The meal looked surprisingly healthy, considering she had discovered his affinity for Pop-Tarts earlier. And it was accompanied by a particularly nice-looking rice. “What is this?”

“Chicken and risotto,” he said.

“What’s risotto?”

“Creamy rice,” he said. “At least, that’s the simple explanation.”

Thankfully, he wasn’t looking at her like she was an alien for not knowing about risotto. But then she remembered he had spoken of having simple roots. So maybe he was used to dealing with people who didn’t have as sophisticated a palate as he had.

She wrinkled her nose, then picked up her fork and took a tentative bite. It was good. So good. And before she knew it, she had cleared out her portion. Her cheeks heated when she realized he had barely taken two bites.

“There’s plenty more in the kitchen,” he said. Then he took her plate from in front of her and went back into the kitchen. She was stunned, and all she could do was sit there and wait until he returned a moment later with the entire pot of risotto, another portion already on her plate.

“Eat as much as you want,” he said, setting everything in front of her.

Well, she wasn’t going to argue with that suggestion. She polished off the chicken, then went back for thirds of the risotto. Eventually, she got around to eating the salad.

“I thought we were going to talk about my responsibilities for being your fiancée and stuff,” she said after she realized he had been sitting there staring at her for the past ten minutes.

“I thought you should have a chance to eat a meal first.”