Читать книгу The Cowboy's Pride and Joy - Maureen Child - Страница 9

Three

Dinner was good, if tense.

Just like the rest of the house, the kitchen was a room pulled right off the pages of some glossy magazine. Acres of pale wood cabinets, a heavy round pedestal table at one end of the long room, plum-colored walls and miles of black granite so shiny it glinted in the overhead lights. The appliances were stainless steel and the effect of it all was cozy and intimate in spite of its size.

The two of them sat at the table silently eating a hearty stew and crusty homemade bread left for them by Jake’s housekeeper, Anna. Cass would have enjoyed the meal except for the fact that her host had pulled into himself and completely shut her out.

Amazing that only a few minutes ago they’d been chatting easily, and now, he’d become the recluse his sister called him. She had to wonder what had changed. What had suddenly made him close off to the point of ignoring that she was even in the room? Naturally, Cass couldn’t take the silence for long.

“You really don’t like having company, do you?” she asked.

His head came up and his eyes locked on hers. Cass felt the slam of that gaze punch into her with a kind of electric awareness that set off tiny ripples of anticipation over every square inch of her skin. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe it would have been better to leave things as they were, with the silence humming between them. But it was too late now.

“What makes you say that?”

Cass shook her head and waved her spoon at him. “Please. You’re sitting there like a statue—except for the glare you’re shooting at me right now. You haven’t said a word since we sat down to eat, and if body language is a real thing, at the moment, yours is saying don’t talk to me.”

He frowned at her.

“See? My point exactly.”

“Fine,” he muttered, reaching for the glass of red wine in front of him. “I don’t get a lot of company here.”

“Not surprising since you’re at the top of a mountain and the road to get here is a death-defying thrill ride,” she noted with a little shudder as she remembered her drive.

That frown flickered across his face again. “There’s nothing wrong with the road—”

“—that a few more feet on either side couldn’t cure,” she interrupted. “Anyway, now that you do have company, however short-lived, you could try to be...nice.”

“Nice.” He said the word as if he was speaking a foreign language.

Cass gave him a slow smile. “Would you like me to define that for you?”

“Thanks, I think I’ve got it.” Though his tone was sarcastic, a twitch of his lips told her he might even be amused.

“Excellent.” She took a sip of her wine. “So, let’s try conversation. I’ll start. This dinner is wonderful. Your housekeeper’s a great cook.”

“She is,” he agreed.

“Two words. Not much, but it’s a start,” she said, enjoying the flash of irritation that shot across his eyes. “I know I keep saying this, but your house is just amazing. Every room I see makes it more so. But this kitchen, it’s so big and there’s only you to cook for. Seems a shame, somehow.”

“Not to me.” He pulled off a piece of bread from the slice in front of him and popped it into his mouth. “Besides, whatever Anna cooks here, she takes most of it back to her house for her and her husband. And then when there’s something big going on, she cooks for the whole ranch.”

Cass took a bite of her bread. “Something big?”

He shrugged. “Anything that keeps the ranch hands from getting back to their cabins to do for themselves. Could be a storm, or a fire on the mountain that we’re helping to put out. Or even just a horse auction when we’ve got potential customers gathered. Cowboys have to eat and if you feed them well, they work harder.”

Cass watched him as he spoke. For a recluse, he could really get going when he wanted to. Of course, all it took was to ask him questions about the ranch he so obviously loved. Then his features were animated, there was a gleam in his eyes, and every word he spoke was flavored with enthusiasm.

She felt an inner sigh that she was grateful he couldn’t hear or sense. Jake Hunter really was gorgeous. It wasn’t fair that she could be so attracted to a man who should remain untouchable. Boss’s son. Recluse. Geographically undesirable.

And yet...as she watched him, she felt a swirl of something hot begin to unfold deep inside her. His smile kicked her heart into an odd little lurch and the pit of her stomach felt as if there were a million or so butterflies lodged there. Not to mention the tingles of expectation that were settling in a little lower.

It had been a long time since she’d felt an instant attraction for a man, and she’d never felt one this strong.

And why did she keep hearing Claudia’s voice whispering, Go for it! Flirt! Live! She couldn’t do that, could she?

No. Absolutely not. Just thinking about doing what she was thinking about after knowing the man for only a few pitiful hours probably qualified her for Skank of the Century.

“Oh, God...”

“Are you okay?” He was looking at her.

“Yes, why? Did I say that out loud?” she asked.

“Yeah. So what’s wrong? You feeling all right?”

“Fine, fine.” Astonishing how much easier she was finding it to lie. Maybe she should be worried about that. “I was, um, thinking about the paperwork and making a mental note not to forget to get you to sign it.”

Oh, that didn’t sound pathetic at all.

“Okay, let’s go get that done right now then,” he said and carried his dirty dishes to the sink. He rinsed them out, then took hers and rinsed those as well.

“I like a man who cleans up after himself.”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t have a lot of maids in the Marines,” he said wryly.

He turned off the kitchen light and darkness swallowed the room as they left it behind. Cass hadn’t even been aware of how much time had passed, but apparently, it got dark early up in the mountains. She shivered a little as they walked down the hall and the world beyond the window glass looked black as pitch. There were no outside lights on, so it was impossible to see anything but their reflections in the glass as they walked.