Читать книгу The Rancher And The Nanny - Caroline Cross - Страница 10

Eve was seated at the kitchen counter when John walked out of his bedroom Friday morning.

His step faltered as his gaze raked over her, taking note of the slender line of her back, the taut curve of her fanny, the bare feet he could see propped on the bottom rung of the bar stool. With her shining blond hair and sun-kissed skin, she looked all-American exotic, as if she ought to be hanging ten on a beach somewhere.

Not that he gave a damn. Shoving his shirttail into his jeans, he told himself that the sudden tension humming through him was nothing more than annoyance. Growing up at the orphanage, privacy had been nonexistent; in the years since he’d left it, he’d come to treasure his morning solitude.

Somehow he doubted Eve would understand, however. With her upbringing, she probably believed he’d be thrilled to see her. God knew, she hadn’t held back from making her presence felt in the brief time that she’d been here. Small reminders of her were all over his house, from the bouquet of fall flowers in the center of the dining room table, to the flimsy Italian leather shoes lined up next to his boots in the mudroom, to the faint scent of her perfume that seemed to linger long after she’d left a room.

Still, he was willing to concede that so far she was managing a lot better than he’d expected. The house was clean and tidy. Dinner the past four nights had been delicious. Most importantly, she seemed to really be making an effort with Lissy.

And that was the only thing that mattered.

He crossed the room, his stride firm and purposeful as he walked around the end of the eating counter.

“Good morning,” Eve said softly.

Her husky voice tickled along his spine. Deliberately taking his time, he poured himself a cup of coffee before he finally turned to face her. “What are you doing up so early?”