The Secretary Gets Her Man. Mindy NeffЧитать онлайн книгу.
to bed if we don’t take care of that window.”
His grin was slow and provocative. “I think I’ll leave that statement alone.”
“Good idea.”
They found a piece of plywood in the garage and hammered it over the opening. Joe insisted on helping her unload the car, too. He grinned when she glared at him.
“We’re going to butt heads, you and I, aren’t we?” he asked.
“Seems so. Are you looking for compliments to the mayor on how well you’re doing your job?”
“Hell no. If I could hand this position over to somebody else tomorrow, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
That made her pause. “You aren’t happy with your job?”
“I’d rather just run the ranch.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“I made a commitment.”
Just like he’d made a commitment to seduce her all those years ago, she thought. Granted, it had been a bet, but he’d put his whole self into accomplishing the task. Boy, had he.
Penny hadn’t realized just how much that incident still bugged her. She’d thought she’d dealt with it, matured, forgotten.
She hadn’t.
She had an idea she was going to have to let Joe fully explain himself before she left. And she would tell him just how he’d made her feel, let him have it with both barrels. Get it off her chest.
Then she could move on.
Perhaps this was the unfinished business she’d thought about when she’d been driving into town. The part of her past she had to face and put behind her once and for all so she could move on.
But not tonight.
“Is that all of it?” Joe asked, setting down her duffel bag and handing her the case containing her laptop computer.
“For now.” There was an attaché case in a special compartment of the trunk that held another weapon and more ammo, but she had an extra loaded clip for the thirty-eight in the suitcase. And chances of needing an arsenal in Darby were next to none.
She walked him through the house to the front door and held out her hand.
“It was good to see you again, Joe.” He took her hand, staring at her with an enigmatic smile that made her want to squirm. His expression seemed to say that a handshake was pretty silly in view of that hot kiss they’d exchanged less than twenty minutes ago.
“Call if you need anything.”
“Boxes.”
“Boxes?”
“For packing my grandmother’s things. Where would be a good place to find some?”
“Out in back of Garvey’s market would be your best bet. The Evans just moved to a new place last week. I can check and see if they kept their packing boxes.”
“No need. I’ve got to go into town tomorrow anyway. I appreciate the tip, though.”
THE NEXT MORNING when Penny heard someone in the house she was prepared.
And deadly calm.
She palmed her thirty-eight and stealthily moved toward the kitchen. A drawer squeaked, wood binding against wood. A utensil clattered against the floor.
Knife?
Adrenaline jolted like a shot of pure caffeine. A hell of a noisy intruder.
Gun palmed upward, back against the wall, Penny took a steadying breath, pivoted and crouched in an offensive stance in the kitchen doorway.
She swore when she saw Joe retrieving a fork from the floor.
Her thumb shot the gun’s safety home and her finger came off the trigger.
“Damn it. Don’t you know about doorbells and such?”
He turned, looked from the gun in her hands to her face.
“I knocked. You didn’t answer. And you left the door unlocked, by the way.” He pulled fragrant rolls out of a bag. The coffeepot was already hissing and spitting steam as water dripped through the grounds. The smell alone was enough to make her forgive him.
But he was still staring. “Good way to get yourself shot,” she muttered as she ducked and looked at her reflection in the toaster. She nearly screamed.
What resembled a distorted, four-eyed raccoon stared back at her. Great. Behind the lenses of her glasses, mascara was smudged beneath her eyes. It wasn’t until she heard Joe groan that she looked down and belatedly realized she wasn’t dressed.
The little camisole and tap pants covered all the essential parts—barely. Emerald satin, they were designed to evoke sensuality, for both the wearer and the admirer.
And Joe Colter was definitely admiring. A bit dumbstruck if one wanted to get right down to it.
A brazen sense of feminine power swept her, had her shoulders pulling back despite the glasses and messy eye makeup.
His gaze finally lifted back to hers. “Coffee?”
She nodded and took the mug he held out to her. With the gun in one hand and the coffee in the other, she couldn’t make any gestures of modesty. Nor could she wipe away the smudged mascara. And despite the appreciation in Joe’s eyes, she felt the need for a more even playing field, a bit more armor.
“If you’ll excuse me a moment, I’ll put on something a bit more suited to company.”
“Don’t go to any trouble on my part.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
JOE FINALLY TOOK a breath when Penny left the room. The satin hem of her little underwear things barely covered the well-toned swell of her behind.
He was going to have major daydreams. And night dreams too.
Penny Archer had changed. Confident, sexy, with just a bare hint of vulnerability that lurked beneath the surface. A vulnerability she did her utmost to hide. He was trained to pick up on subtle nuances. And he’d picked up on hers.
He wanted to pick up a lot more.
But Joe had already been through a rough time with relationships. He had no business entertaining fantasies about a woman from his past. He’d hurt her once. And he didn’t want to hurt her again.
What did he have to offer that she could possibly need? She obviously had an exciting position as a government agent—though exactly what type of an agent he wasn’t sure. Regardless, she wasn’t likely to give that up for small-time life on a ranch.
Because ranching was Joe’s goal. Not law enforcement, or power lunches or good versus evil. He just wanted to be himself. Please himself.
And engaging in a temporary relationship with Penny Archer would be no better than what he’d done to her sixteen years ago.
But man alive, he wanted to follow her into that bedroom and run his hands over that satin encased, dynamite body. She intrigued the hell out of him.
When she came back in the kitchen, she wasn’t wearing her glasses. She’d cleaned up the smudges from beneath her eyes, enhanced them a bit with shadow and added a pale gloss to her lips, making them look wet and tempting. Her curly hair was held off her neck with a clip, the style casual and haphazard and sexy as all get out. The snug jeans and even snugger tank top outlined every delicious curve of her body.
There was an innate sensuality that radiated from her like a shiny gold coin beneath an icy brook, yet there was an aura of mystery, too.
She met his gaze and held it, quietly, comfortably, directly, as though she were a totally open book, a woman of sophistication and experience.
But