The Millionaire's Club: Connor, Tom & Gavin: Round-the-Clock Temptation / Highly Compromised Position / A Most Shocking Revelation

“And you’ll be here next month for Thanksgiving.” Nita might have been imaging it, but she swore she heard sadness in her sister’s voice and wondered if there was something wrong, something Rose wasn’t telling her. Rose always had been the type to hold things inside, while Nita let the entire world know what was eating her. “Unless you need to come home now.”

“Of course I don’t need to. I just thought you could use the help.”

“Nope, I’ve got things under control.”

“Well, if you want me to come, don’t hesitate to call.”

They said their goodbyes and Nita hung up the phone.

“You’ve got things under control, huh?” Connor said.

She shot him a scathing look, even though she knew from the grin on his face, he was only teasing her. “Oh, be quiet.”

“What was that?” he asked, nodding toward sink. “I smelled it all the way upstairs.”

“Potatoes. I guess I had the heat in the pan too high. I was trying to cook them fast to catch up with the chicken.”

“I don’t think it works that way.”

“I guess not. At least we’ll have the chicken.” He looked around the kitchen. “Where is it?”

“I left it in the oven so it’ll stay warm.”

“I hope you turned the temperature down.”

“Of course I did,” she snapped. At least, she’d meant to. They simultaneously turned to look at the display on the stove.

“See,” she said smugly. “It’s on low. As in, not too hot.” Connor didn’t look impressed by her stroke of genius. “I’m no gourmet, but on my stove the broiler settings are high and low and the regular oven is by temperature.”

Her heart slid south into her belly. There was no way she could have ruined another entire meal.

She yanked open the oven door and smoke rolled out to join the cloud already hanging in the air from the potatoes. “Oh no!”

Connor grabbed an oven mitt, pulled the pan out and set it on the stove. The chicken was completely charred on one side and still smoking. “One side is okay…sort of. Maybe if you cut off the burned part?”

He had every right to be smug about it, but he wasn’t, and, although she appreciated his encouragement, they both knew she couldn’t serve chicken this burned to the men. They would accuse her of trying to poison them.

It wouldn’t be the first time that week.

“Dump it,” she said. She grabbed a newspaper from the kitchen counter and waved the smoke toward the open kitchen window. “I just wasn’t meant to be in a kitchen. I think I was born without the cooking gene.”

Connor dumped the chicken in the sink with the potatoes and set the pan back on the stove. “I have an idea.”

“What idea?”

He pulled his cell phone out and dialed.

“Who are you calling?” Please let it be someone who knew how to cook.

“It’s chili night at the Royal Diner.”

Nita felt herself begin to salivate. Manny’s chili was the best in Royal—hell, probably the entire state of Texas. But what about the men? They had to eat, too.

When Manny answered, Connor ordered chili with all the fixings. Enough to feed everyone, saving her from an inevitable mutiny. It wasn’t the first time he’d saved her butt the past couple of days. She owed him big time, and could think of a couple of fun, mutually gratifying ways to pay him back.

They drove into town together to pick up the food, then after dinner he helped her clean the kitchen until it was spotless. He even did a couple of loads of laundry for her since he knew how and she was in no mood to mop up a flood.

Later, after Nita got her daddy settled in his suite and was on her way upstairs to get ready for bed, she realized she’d ruined dinner three nights in a row, fed him sandwiches for lunch and cold cereal for breakfast, yet Connor hadn’t uttered a word of complaint. He’d even insisted on paying for dinner tonight.

He hadn’t made fun of her for not having a domestic bone in her body the way some men had. And he hadn’t acted all high and mighty when he’d fixed things for her. He was so reserved, so guarded sometimes it was frustrating. But there was a fire burning in him, a passion he kept buried deep inside, she just knew it. She’d been so busy holding things together the past couple of days, and fell into bed so dead tired every night, she hadn’t had time to even think about a seduction. Maybe, after a relaxing hot shower, it was time she paid Connor back for all his good deeds.

She might not have known how to operate an oven, but she sure knew what to do to set a man on fire.

Chapter Six

Connor checked all the windows and doors, and when he was sure the house was locked up tight, he trudged up the stairs to his room. The bathroom door was closed and he could hear water running. Nita was taking a shower. He fought to block out a sudden image of her naked and wet, but it slid through his brain and lodged itself there to torture him.

He walked into his room and closed the door, wishing he could leave the erotic image in the empty hall. Every time he was near Nita, he found himself wanting to touch her, wanting to taste that sassy mouth of hers.

Everything about her fascinated him. The way her silky raven hair shined when the sun hit it. How her violet eyes brightened or darkened depending on her mood. He never tired of watching her. The graceful flow of her body as she worked with a horse, the pure joy on her face that said she was doing exactly what she wanted to, what she was meant to do.

And if the sexual attraction wasn’t bad enough, he really liked her. She was so feisty and full of life. The way she’d been looking at him with blatant interest the past couple of days both intrigued him and made him uneasy. He couldn’t meet her eye, couldn’t face the honesty there without his feelings getting away from him. If he allowed himself to let go, nothing good could come of it. Things would get out of hand and someone could get hurt. She could get hurt.

Still, he’d never met a woman who made him want to lose control the way Nita did.

He stripped off his shirt, tossing it over the footboard. He had just unfastened his pants when he was interrupted by a knock. He zipped back up and opened the door. Nita stood in the hall, her long hair wet, dressed in an oversize men’s shirt that wasn’t buttoned very high.

Aw hell.

When he should have closed them, his eyes wandered lower instead, and what little breath he had left backed up in his chest. If he’d ever wondered whether or not she had nice legs, he just got his answer. The shirt stopped at midthigh, and that exposed a lot of silky, milk-white bare skin.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

Though his head was saying no, his body didn’t listen. As if in some sort of sexual trance, he backed up and held the door open wider.

She stepped inside and shut the door behind her, leaning against it, as if she was making sure he couldn’t get away. Her eyes fixed on him, wandered across his bare chest, then lower to his partially unfastened pants.

She was looking at him as though she’d been starved for a month and he was an all-you-can-eat buffet.

This was not good.

“I wanted to thank you for all your help this week,” she said, “with Daddy and with the farm. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He had a feeling he knew exactly how she wanted to thank him. He backed away a safe distance, keeping his face stony and disinterested. “No need to thank me. I’m sure you would have managed just fine without my help.”

She stepped toward him, unfastening one of the buttons on her shirt, widening the V of smooth pale skin, so he could make out the curve of her breasts. “Maybe I want to thank you.”

He held his ground, but he could feel his body reacting to her presence, to the scent of her freshly scrubbed skin. A warm curl of need started in his groin and spiraled outward. “As I said, that isn’t necessary.”