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Cimarron Rose. Nicole FosterЧитать онлайн книгу.

Cimarron Rose - Nicole  Foster


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came around her tiny waist, steadying her.

      “Careful,” he murmured close to her ear, “this redecorating can be dangerous business.”

      For a moment Katlyn froze. In all her life she couldn’t remember being so aware of a man. His hands felt warm and strong against her, his breath made her skin tingle as it brushed her ear. And the scent of him, a mingling of tobacco and something clean and sharp and male, seemed to her as heady as any spirits she’d tasted.

      If she made the slightest move backward, she would be in his arms. The impulse to do just that tempted her and at the same time frightened her with its intensity.

      Case realized he’d made a mistake the moment he touched her. His body responded to her even as his common sense warned him to walk away. Except his mind didn’t seem to be listening to sense any more than the rest of him.

      Katlyn shifted, turning within his hold to look at him. Her eyes, like the violet blue of a sunset sky, searched his.

      He waited, expecting someone like Penelope Rose to respond with enticement, boldness even.

      Instead she did nothing except look uncertainly at him, as if she had no idea of how to respond. The color had fled her face, leaving her pale.

      Katlyn floundered. No man had ever made her feel so foolish and shy. Why was her confidence abandoning her now?

      Case reached up one hand and touched her tousled hair. The coppery curls slid like silken fire through his fingers. He felt her tremble. Something inside him jerked, as if prodded sharply.

      “Maybe I underestimated your talent,” he said softly. “This is an improvement.”

      “Yes…Well, I mean it’s much warmer. The velvet kept out the sunlight and…and…” Katlyn stumbled over her words and finally stopped. She tried to draw a calming breath and instead it came out a shaky sigh.

      What was she doing, letting Case Durham turn her inside out like this? She was supposed to be Penelope Rose, used to men and their attentions. Her mother never would have stood this close to a man like Case and alternated between gaping at him and babbling about curtains. Her mother would have smiled, let her fingers graze his shoulder, and made some coy remark.

      But Katlyn couldn’t take her charade that far. Not with Case Durham. Not even for her mother. Looking away from him, she turned in the chair again, deliberately staring up at the remaining curtains. “I’ll get the rest of these down, then the windows and woodwork need to be washed and—”

      “Come down from there before you break a leg.” Without waiting for her to obey and ignoring the squeal of protest she made, Case lifted her off the chair to the floor. “I’ve invested too much money in you to have you laid up for weeks. I didn’t hire you to climb chairs and scrub windows.”

      Case deliberately made his voice and manner brusque and was rewarded when the flush came back to her face and the fire to her eyes.

      He hadn’t been prepared for her pale and trembling at his touch. Looking at her like that, he had lowered his guard and for a moment she’d slipped under it. She’d shaken his defenses and he determined she would never do it again.

      Katlyn recognized the wall Case put up and almost welcomed it. At least it was familiar. “You hired me to rescue your hotel,” she said. “Consider this a bonus to my singing.”

      She made to get up on the chair again but Case stepped in front of it, stopping her. “If you’re so determined to tear apart my foyer, I’ll help you. Maybe I can keep you from pulling down the entire window.”

      “Be my guest, but you aren’t going to talk me out of washing this glass.”

      “Has anyone ever told you you’re hardheaded?” Case asked as he pulled the ladder over to the window and started to climb the rungs.

      “Practically everyone I meet,” Katlyn said, smiling sweetly up at him. “So you’d better get used to it.”

      Three hours later Katlyn stood at Case’s side and surveyed the work they’d finished with satisfaction.

      He’d grumbled a good deal about her giving orders to him and his staff, and about her making good on her promise to scrub both the windows and woodwork. But even he couldn’t argue with the results.

      The wood and glass, from windows to walls, gleamed after Katlyn’s attack with soap, vinegar and beeswax. Case had moved all the furniture so the rugs could be taken outside and beaten, and then after everything had been thoroughly cleaned, Katlyn guided where to place things, rearranging everything to better suit the space. She’d also insisted the curtains from her suite be hung in the foyer. The light fabric in shades of rose and ivory perfectly complimented the room and let enough sunlight in to gild everything in mellow tones of gold.

      Katlyn shot Case a triumphant smile. “I knew this would be better.”

      “I’m beginning to wonder who’s in charge around here,” Case muttered. But he couldn’t help smiling at her sudden scowl. With her hair escaping its rough braid, her face smudged with dirt, and her dress dusty, she looked more real to him than she ever had carefully primped and painted. Seeing her now, he marveled at how she could transform herself to be at home on a stage.

      “All right, it’s better,” he said. “You win. This time.”

      Cocking a brow at him, Katlyn put a hand to her hip and leaned back a little to look fully at him. “Is that a challenge, Mr. Durham?”

      “It’s a warning, Miss McLain, not to make a habit of rearranging my life without my invitation.”

      “I wasn’t aware that improving your foyer had such an impact on your life. Do you find redecorating and cleaning that disturbing?”

      “Maybe it’s you I find disturbing. You’re never what I expect you to be.”

      Case said the words thoughtfully as he watched her, making Katlyn feel as if he were stripping away her secrets one by one. “You don’t know me well enough to expect anything from me,” she said lightly. “And I like the idea that I can surprise you.”

      “I don’t like surprises. I’ve had enough to last a lifetime.” His expression hardened. “I want to know what to expect up front.”

      As if deliberately flaunting his warning, she caught his attention again by smiling instead of retreating. “Where’s the fun in that?” she said, the gleam in her eyes pure mischief.

      Case fought a surge of irritation. She’d managed once more to slip under his skin with that way she had of doing what he least anticipated.

      “I’ve annoyed you again,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

      “Are you?”

      “Not really.”

      Shaking his head, Case gave up. “Well, at least that’s honest. And now—” He glanced quickly at his watch. “It’s time for Emily’s lunch and I always try to have it with her. If you’d like to join us—”

      Katlyn didn’t have time to decide whether to accept or not. The clamor of wheels and horses’ hooves drew their attention to the window as the stage rumbled past, leaving a wake of red-brown dust.

      “It looks like my guests have arrived early,” Case observed.

      “I’ll finish cleaning this up. I suppose it’s not good business to have your guests tripping over buckets.” Glad for the distraction, Katlyn hurried off to retrieve the bucket and cloths that Becky hadn’t yet taken away. She left Case to remove the ladder as she gave the furniture a final swipe with her rag.

      She’d just finished stowing the last of it when Case strode over to pull the front doors open and welcome in two elderly couples, one of them accompanied by a young woman.

      Katlyn scarcely heard Case’s smooth greeting and the easy way he had of organizing his staff to collect luggage and escort the guests to their various


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