Expecting The Rancher's Child

She could smell sawdust and new lumber. She was equally aware of the faint scent of Blake’s aftershave, the scrape of his boot heels on the new hardwood floors, of his nearness when he opened doors for her and stepped back to hold them.

Thankful she wouldn’t be working with him on a daily basis, she couldn’t shake the acute awareness of him. As they stood in the large living area of the suite, he turned to her. “Downstairs in the older part of the house I showed you some of the rooms. They all have formal French-style furniture, European antiques, plus one suite holds two-hundred-year-old furniture I bought at an estate sale in New Orleans.”

“The rosewood furniture that’s ornate and elegant. It’s beautiful, Blake,” she said.

“Thanks. I think so. I did that mostly for my mom because she loves that kind of furniture, and she was influential in the selection of the earlier furnishings. Up here, I’d like a change in decor. I’d like these suites to be contemporary with sleek lines, open spaces. That’s more my style.”

“That’s popular now, and there are some beautiful furniture designs available,” she said, walking through the empty rooms while he followed. “You’ll have plenty to choose from.”

“Whoa,” he said. “Sierra, I’m turning this project over to you. I want you to make the decisions about the decor—that’s your field, and I trust you totally. From here on, you take charge. Do your stuff, get it lined up and then show me. I do not want to be too involved.”

“Suppose you don’t like it?” she asked. “People usually want to see some of the early planning. You had people who checked on what I was doing at your hotel.”

“That’s because you’d never worked for us before. Now the early stages will be your deal. I’ve told you contemporary, and we’ll set an upper limit for the cost. I don’t want to be consulted until you’ve made some selections and have sketches showing how it’ll look.”

“That’s flattering, and you’re the boss,” she said. “At least you know what you want.”

“Damn straight,” he said quietly, his voice acquiring that husky note that indicated furniture was no longer on his mind. “I know exactly what I want,” he said.

“All right, Blake. I’ll see if I can please you,” she flung back at him. Her pulse raced as she turned to walk away. When she did, her back tingled, and she felt his gaze on her. Telling herself that it was probably her imagination, she had no intention of turning to see if he was studying her.

The suites in the new wing were roomy, each unique, one with arched, wide windows giving a panoramic view of his lighted pool.

As she turned, she once again caught Blake gazing at her with a lustful look. She met his gaze and the moment intensified, her surroundings disappearing, leaving only the tall, handsome man facing her.

Her heart pounded as she left the room. “I’ll move on,” she said over her shoulder without glancing back.

They had only started looking and had the rest of the wing to finish. She drew a deep breath, determined to keep her mind on business. Not so easy when she was beside him or when she caught him looking at her with unmistakable desire.

Again, she was grateful that he didn’t live on the ranch full-time.

They looked at suites with large rooms, lots of glass and open spaces, big walk-in closets and bathrooms large enough to hold several pieces of furniture besides the usual bathroom equipment. She could envision some beautiful suites.

“You’ll have a hotel when you finish,” she said, amused. “This would even be big for my family.”

He smiled. “I like plenty of room. I do have company, and I have family now, thanks to Cade and my other half brothers. When they come to visit they need their own space. I told you before, Nate is married. He’s two years younger than Cade. He has a beautiful wife and a beautiful little baby daughter who is about two months old. They are back east right now, visiting her parents.”

“Is Cade the one close to your age?”

“Yes. Cade is the Callahan I know best. He’s the oldest of the three. Gabe is the youngest.”

While they talked, she gazed into his dark brown eyes. She was aware of how close he stood, and she considered initiating conversations only when standing across the room from him. This intense reaction was unique, disturbing and something she couldn’t understand. She turned to walk away, reminding herself to keep a professional distance between them.

“That’s it,” he said finally when they finished. “It’s early. Let’s go downstairs and talk for a while. You’ll live and work in my house temporarily, so we might as well get to know each other.”

She knew now was the moment to politely decline, but looking into his midnight eyes, she couldn’t. “For a while,” she said, unable to resist accepting his invitation. What was it about him that held so much forbidden appeal?

As they walked downstairs, he asked, “Want anything to eat or drink? We have desserts, more ice cream and an after-dinner liqueur. What would you like?”

“Just a glass of ice water, please,” she said.

They went to the sitting room at the back of the house, and he stepped behind the bar to get ice water for her and a beer for himself.

As she sat in a straight wingback chair, he sank down on a large brown leather chair facing her, sipped his beer and set it on a table. “Do you plan to stay with the nonprofit, or will you go back to decorating someday?”

“I plan to stay where I am. A project I have dreamed about is finding foster parents for homeless kids—now with the funds you provided, maybe we’ll be able to start that program. You would have room to take one,” she teased.

He gave her a startled look and then smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting a fraction. “That’s commendable, but a little kid right now wouldn’t fit in with my lifestyle.”

“Nonsense. You can hire nannies, maids and tutors, whomever you need.”