The Rancher's Surrender. Jill ShalvisЧитать онлайн книгу.
anything,” he said, looking anything but.
Cliff smiled at him and shook his head. “Just giving Abby a bedtime snack.” But he dropped his hand from Zoe’s.
Ty nodded, his expression inscrutable. “You’re all done for the night?”
Cliff’s smile faded some and he shuffled his feet slightly. “Well...”
Ty lifted a brow, all stern and unrelenting, none of the sharp wit that Zoe had come to think of as innately part of the man in evidence now. “Well, what?” he snapped.
Zoe opened her mouth, but not sure what to say, she shut it again.
Cliff shifted his weight. “I didn’t have time to—”
“You had time to come on to Ms. Martin.”
Now Zoe opened her mouth again, suddenly positive she did indeed have plenty to say.
Before she could, Ty pushed away from the wall, and when he did, Cliff shot Zoe a half-sheepish, half-apologetic glance, moving clear from her.
“Ah...gotta go,” he mumbled.
With enough bright lights shining that she could see every line on his tanned face, Zoe had no trouble detecting Cliff’s blush, or his embarrassment. She glared at Ty, who didn’t appear to notice. When Cliff had fumbled his way out of the barn, leaving the door open in his haste to escape, Zoe ground her teeth and turned to Ty. “Well, that was...nice.”
His eyes flashed. “Don’t flirt with my help.”
“Flirt?” A shocked laugh left her. This had to be a joke. But it wasn’t, she realized, looking at his furious face.
“If you want to flirt,” he growled, “you do it with me.”
Carefully she closed her dropped jaw. “You’re the last man in Idaho—No, the last man on earth that I’d flirt with.” Tossing her hair back, she stormed over to him. That her chin didn’t even come to his tense shoulder didn’t stop her; she wasn’t afraid of him. “And don’t you ever tell me what to do.”
“I’ll tell you whatever I please when it’s my business.”
“This is just because I refused to take you on as our partner.”
“Believe me, it has nothing to do with that—”
“You flirt with Shirley.”
He laughed then, some of the tension leaving him as she stood him down. “I do not.”
“I saw you.”
“What you saw, Zoe, was me turning her down. I don’t mix business and pleasure. Usually,” he added, taking the last step between them.
The breath backed up in her throat at the look on his face. The shadows covered some of his expression, making it difficult to tell if all that heat was anger or arousal. She preferred the former.
“Did you hear me, Zoe? Stay away from my ranch hands.”
“You’re a...a bully!”
He laughed again. “Is that the best you can do?” Before she could come up with better, he’d taken her shoulders and pressed her back against the stall. Zoe was sandwiched between the hard, cold wood and Ty’s equally hard but warm body, and her mind went blank. He surrounded her, and it wasn’t a threatening sort of feeling at all, though it should have been. His broad shoulders blocked the light, blocked out everything but him.
“You were...” She struggled to keep her train of thought, difficult when all the blood rushed out of her head at the rough, unexpected embrace. “Rude to Cliff.”
“I know.” His forehead lowered to hers at the startling admission. “What is it about you that drives me so crazy?”
It was a rhetorical question, but with his lips hovering only a scant inch from hers, Zoe felt the compulsive need to keep talking because if she stopped, he might kiss her and then she would be lost.
“Don’t worry,” she said quickly. “I drive everyone crazy, it’s not just you. Ask Delia—”
“Delia’s not here.” His large hands captured her head with surprising gentleness. Slowly he tilted it up, better aligning their mouths so that if he so much as breathed, they’d be connected.
It couldn’t happen, she thought, unreasonable panic welling. This was crazy, they had no business doing this, none at all. Forget her wild fantasy involving his wicked mouth covering hers, of his tough, powerful body doing things to her own, of his deep, husky voice detailing each one of those things... Goodness. Forget it, this was not what she wanted.
But he was going to kiss her if she didn’t do something, anything. “Ty...I don’t think—”
“That’s right,” he murmured, his eyes heavy-lidded. “Don’t think. Feel.”
“But—” He was watching her mouth with a hot, intent purpose that had her knees knocking together. “Ty...”
“Hmm-mmm...”
He wasn’t going to listen to her. Well, she knew what to do, she was from Los Angeles, and well prepared. “Ty,...”
“Shh.” His hips slid over hers, the hard ridge between his thighs unmistakable. He did it again, finding the soft notch between hers, and she was putty m his hands. “Ty...I don’t—”
“Zoe.” Just that, just her name on a groaning sigh.
Nope, listening was beyond him, it was nearly beyond her. So she did the only thing she could think of to stop him.
She punched him.
One week later, as spring gave way to summer, Zoe began to regret her rash decision in turning down Ty for a partnership.
And also for punching him in the belly.
Ty had pretty much ignored her, brooding and silent whenever they were together. However, with her sisters he’d been Mr. Charm.
Zoe told herself she could live with that.
What she couldn’t live with was the ranch in its current condition. The only income they generated was the land Ty currently leased for his own operation. Which meant one fourth of the land looked good and cared for. He had fenced in pastures for his horses, and not only were they beautiful and impressive, it was an unbelievable thrill to stand outdoors, on land that belonged to her and her sisters, and watch nature take its course.
With the warm season came a patchwork of colors so brilliant it hurt the eye. Wheat, peas, alfalfa and wildflowers all grew naturally, blowing gently in the breeze, framed in by the river and the mountains. It was gorgeous beyond anything she’d ever known, and her love for the place grew.
She didn’t want to give up on it, but they had to be able to survive.
Enchanted by the magnificent land, despite the isolation and clear-cut problems, Zoe and her sisters had agreed—they’d stick it out until the end. For better or worse.
Only for Zoe, it’d gotten worse. She’d had no clue how hard it would be to see Ty Jackson on a daily basis. Hell, on an hourly basis.
He was everywhere.
Long, powerful legs strained his snug, faded jeans. Tough, rugged shoulders managed to take on amazing amounts of work and responsibility. And his silent, crooked, knowing smile that taunted her.
“What’s the matter, Slim?” he called out from his spot twenty-five yards away.
“Did I complain?” she snapped, turning her back to him.
Being manager could have meant any of a thousand things, but thankfully he seemed to respect them enough to let them make their own decisions for the ranch. Unfortunately