Maid in Montana Page 5

  She laughed, thinking it looked like a box of Pepto-Bismol, but her laughter gave way to an unexpected understanding. This gear was for a woman. The second treadmill and stair climber and weight bench were for a female friend.

  Oh boy. He had a girlfriend. As if there wasn’t enough pressure on her to do a good job, now there was a woman in the picture. Someone else who would judge her taste.

  What she didn’t expect was the rush of disappointment that followed this discovery. Telling herself it was ridiculous to be disappointed her boss—her grouchy boss—had a girlfriend, she shoved the box back into place and wound her way through the hollow-sounding empty room that led to the steps and the first floor.

  In the office, she set Brady in the playpen she’d brought in the day before and walked to the desk. Pulling his tall-back leather chair away from the desk to sit, she suddenly felt like an interloper. The rest of the house was so empty it was possible to look around and not discover anything, but this was his domain.

  A chunky chocolate-colored leather sofa and chair created a seating area atop a Native American print rug that protected the hardwood floor. From the papers strewn over the rough-hewn wood sofa table in the center of the grouping, she guessed that was where Jeb and Slim created the proposals for clients.

  A bookcase took up the entire wall to the left of the desk. She glanced at a few titles, mostly mysteries and thrillers. Nothing that give her a clue of how to furnish his huge house.

  She pulled open the top desk drawer, looking for a legal pad to make notes and sketch designs. She found nothing but file folders arranged in a long row. With a sigh she began to close the drawer but the name on a tab caught her eye. Samuel’s House.

  If this file contained pictures of the house of a friend—especially a rancher friend—she’d at least get an idea of how his friends lived and know if she was going in the right direction.

  She eagerly lifted the file folder from the drawer and opened it on the desktop. To her dismay there were no pictures. Only correspondence.

  Dear Mr. Worthington…

  On behalf of the staff and children of Samuel’s House, we’d like to thank you and your parents for your recent generous donations…

  Donations? Samuel’s House was a charity?

  She told herself to close the file, but curiosity got the better of her and she flipped the first letter over and found a second.

  Dear Mr. Worthington…

  Thank you again for remembering Samuel’s House with your recent generous donation.

  After the third letter, her mouth had dropped in awe. Samuel’s House was obviously a home for children. She glanced down at the other file folders and quickly scanned the identity tabs, but found no other charities.

  She flipped the next page of correspondence in the Samuel’s House file.

  Dear Mr. Worthington…

  Words can’t express our gratitude for your commitment to build a new facility for the children at Samuel’s House.

  Sophie’s eyes popped. He was building an entire facility?

  The generosity exhibited by you and your parents touches us deeply. The children who come to us are as much in need of emotional help as they are basic necessities of life. The new buildings to be erected by your family will provide us with opportunities to instill confidence in our children, even as they learn good sportsmanship and get much needed physical activity.

  We hope you’ll visit us again soon. The children always enjoy seeing you.

  Closing the file, Sophie tried to catch her breath. If she’d thought he was rich before this, her eyes had been opened even wider. The man could afford to build an entire facility for what appeared to be an orphanage.

  But his money took a back seat to an even bigger realization. Grouchy Jeb Worthington, the man who supposedly hated kids, supported an orphanage. She leaned back on the chair. That didn’t make any sense at all.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  JEB ambled into the empty kitchen, smiling to himself. With Sophie busy elsewhere in the house, he no longer had to avoid her. Their paths legitimately didn’t cross.

  He laughed as he made a sandwich to take back to the barn office. He could be very clever when he needed to be. Now it didn’t matter that his hormones went crazy when they were in the same room. They’d never be in the same room.

  He finished his sandwich and headed out again, but at the kitchen door he realized he needed a file from his desk. He pivoted and marched to his office and found Sophie already in his desk chair.

  All right. Fine. So his plan wasn’t as good at keeping them apart as he’d thought. But this would be a simple encounter. A minute tops. Nothing to worry about.

  “Don’t get up,” he said, talking as he walked in. But the scent of something heavenly sweet—like roses or peaches—instantly engulfed him. He didn’t know what brand of soap or shampoo she used, but it filled the air with a scent so feminine it instantly transmitted a message straight to his groin.

  Great.

  Brady cooed and Jeb glanced in the corner. The baby sat in the playpen Jeb had seen in her suite, chewing on the ear of a stuffed bear. This time his chest contracted. It was as if all the things that made a woman ultra-feminine had gathered in this one space and decided to torment him.

  At the desk, he bent and reached for the handle to open the drawer. On its own volition, his gaze drifted to the right, taking in the smooth length of thigh partially hidden beneath his desk, as her scent swirled around him.

  This is ridiculous!

  His logical side immediately took control, but his masculinity instantly disagreed. Why was it ridiculous to be attracted to a beautiful woman?

  Because nothing can come of it.

  He grimaced. Unfortunately his logical side was correct.

  He turned his attention to sliding open the drawer and reached for the two files he needed—applications of potential clients. But Sophie shifted on the chair, her elbow bumped his shoulder and their gazes met.

  Her eyes were dark, smoky, sexy. Her complexion smooth, perfect. Her lips plump, kissable.

  His heart speeded up, scrambling his pulse. His gaze locked with hers. He told himself to pull away and get the hell out of this room, but he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Barely breathed. Not because she was so pretty, or even because she was suddenly so close. But because she had the same look of confusion on her face that he was sure was on his.

  She was attracted to him, too. Though he’d suspected that from their encounter at the swimming pool, he hadn’t realized the intensity of what she’d felt. Now he knew she was as powerfully attracted to him as he was to her.

  Male confidence filled him. The kind that nudges a boy to ask his first crush to dance. The kind that inspires an adolescent to sweet-talk his first date into a real kiss. The kind that leads a man to seduce his first lover. With one smooth movement he would be close enough to kiss her and he didn’t think she’d back away—

  Her baby yelped and Jeb jumped as if someone had exploded a firecracker. He grabbed his files and headed for the door without a word. What could he say? I damned near made the biggest mistake of my life and kissed you? An employee? A woman with a baby? He couldn’t himself believe he’d almost kissed her. How would he explain it to the woman who looked as confused by the attraction as he was?

  When he was out of sight, Sophie sucked in a breath and fell back on the chair. He—she—he…

  She squeezed her eyes shut then popped them open again. As crazy as it sounded, that man was attracted to her. She’d seen the spark of it in his eyes, felt the electricity of it arching between them. The man who had more money than Sophie could even imagine—enough money to support an orphanage—and was so handsome he made her heart stop…He liked her.

  Her. Simple, sometimes silly, her.

  Even as she realized it didn’t make any sense, her heart soared. But Brady screeched again and she shook her head to clear the haze. He might be attracted to her and she might be attracted to him, but he didn’t
like kids. Support of an orphanage notwithstanding, she’d seen how angry he got around Brady. How standoffish. For Pete’s sake, he was firing her because she had the audacity to bring her baby to his ranch.

  They could be as hot as Cleopatra and Mark Anthony and absolutely nothing would come of it. She shouldn’t even want to be attracted to him.

  She didn’t want to be attracted to him.

  “I’m sorry, buddy.” She rose from the chair and ran to the playpen. “Your mom is here. She isn’t going anywhere.”

  Two days later, having not seen Jeb even once since the episode at his desk, Sophie headed for the barn office. She had waited until he’d been alone for an hour and Brady had been sound asleep for ten minutes, before she took a deep breath for courage and walked the thin sidewalk leading to the barn.

  She understood why he was avoiding her, but she’d come to terms with being attracted to him and wasn’t going to let it stand in the way of her doing the best job she could. The truth was he was firing her, and that wouldn’t look good on a résumé. She could state that she left his employ because the job was live-in and she had a baby and the ranch had no accommodation for Brady. That would probably even work. But it would work better if Jeb would give her a letter of recommendation.

  The only way to get a recommendation would be to do a good job. And the best way to assure that was by getting his approval before she actually made any purchases.

  Clutching her yellow legal pad, she followed the sidewalk around the neat-as-a-pin white barn to the back, where Slim had told her she would find the office. She knocked on the frame of the open door before she stepped inside.

  “Got a minute?”

  He glanced up from his work, his eyes dark and serious. “Not really.”

  She took a timid step into the room. “This won’t take long. I don’t feel right spending this kind of money without going over the list of purchases with you first. I don’t want to accidentally order thousands of dollars of things you hate.”

  “We’d just send them back.”

  “I know, but work with me on this. It would be so much simpler if you’d just take a quick look and tell me I’m going in the right direction.”

  He sighed and dropped his pencil. “Let me see what you have.”

  With the trepidation of a schoolgirl about to show her artistry to her favorite teacher, she handed the legal pad across the desk. With the menacing scowl of the lord of darkness, he flipped it open.

  She’d cut out prints of furniture, lamps and accessories that she’d made from the pictures she’d found on the Internet and pasted them onto the sheets in the legal pad, creating the groupings she intended in each room.

  He flipped from page to page, examining the things she’d chosen. His expression went from grouchy to curious to happy in four flips.

  He looked up at her. “These are great.”

  She winced. “The cutouts leave a lot to be desired.”

  “No. They’re fine. I can see exactly what you intend to do.” He glanced down again. “How did you get pictures of the furniture I already have?”

  “I found the Web sites for the brand names and there they were.”

  “This is all good.”

  “Really?”

  He peered up again, the curious expression back on his face. “Why would you think they weren’t?” Before she could answer he shook his head. “Your parents, right?”

  She grimaced. “Yes and no. I’d love to blame them for absolutely everything wrong in my life, but the truth is I’m not a decorator.”

  He flipped back and reviewed the pages he’d already examined. “You may not be a trained decorator but these are really, really good.” He caught her gaze again. “I think the fact that you aren’t a pro works in your favor. I don’t want too polished of a look. I don’t want things to be too perfect. These rooms are just the simple rooms of a normal house.”

  She finally took a seat. “I hope they aren’t too simple.”

  He laughed, turning to the next page. “Maybe what I should have said was that they looked comfortable.”

  “And not as much as a pink pillow among them.”

  He worked his way through the sheets in the legal pad again and with every flip of a page, confidence spread through Sophie. This grouchy guy, who to this point seemed unpleaseable, genuinely liked her plans for his home.

  After studying the final page, he closed the tablet and handed it across his desk. “Do it.”

  The joy of accomplishment swelled her heart until it was so big she could barely breathe. “Really? Everything?”

  “Everything. I didn’t see anything that made me want to run for cover. Every room looks comfortable and homey. Just what I want.”

  The joy that had swelled her heart gave way to another, more elemental feeling. Connection. She’d finally done something that he more than liked. She’d finally pleased him.

  But the brush of their hands as he handed the legal pad to her reminded her that his real problem with her had little to do with her work. They were powerfully attracted to each other. Sexily, steamily attracted to each other. And after the episode in his office, they both knew it.

  She pulled in a breath, caught his gaze, forced him to look at her, deal with her, as an employee. Not a woman.

  “I really appreciate your confidence in me. I won’t disappoint you.”

  “No,” he said slowly, holding her gaze, obviously getting the subliminal message she so desperately wanted to send. “I don’t think you will.”

  “Thank you. I can start pulling this all together tomorrow morning.”

  “And don’t skimp on shipping. I want as much of this done as possible for the client visit. If it means we pay extra to get things here, then that’s what we do. Money is no object.”

  “Okay.”

  She turned and began to walk out of the room, but he called her back. “Hey, Sophie?”

  She swallowed, worried that something negative had occurred to him, so when she faced him again she made sure her expression displayed nothing but confidence. “Yes?”

  “Are you going to need any help?”

  “Help?”

  “You know. Lifting furniture, painting, that kind of thing?”

  She hadn’t thought of that. Though she worried it might count as a strike against her, she chose to go with the truth. “Probably.”

  He glanced down at his work again. “When you need someone, talk to Slim. He’ll know who he can spare for a few days or a few hours.”

  Success tumbled through her. He was treating her totally like an employee. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He didn’t look up. She didn’t take offense, but scurrying up the sidewalk to the house, her flip-flops slapping her heels as she ran, a realization occurred to her. He’d treated her well because she’d behaved ultraprofessionally. Proud of her work, she’d let it speak for itself and when he asked a question, she was ready. Her flip-flops again slapped her heels as she made her way through the foyer, and she stopped dead in her tracks. As usual, she wore shorts, a tank top and flip-flops because they were easy to work in, but they really weren’t very professional. Which was probably why he didn’t see her as an employee first, but a woman. Maybe if she dressed a little more professionally she could add another layer of protection for him?

  With Jeb’s permission, Sophie began her shopping spree. For days, she searched the Internet making comparisons, looking for bargains. Though Jeb had told her money was no object, she knew a budget was coming and she didn’t want to waste her resources. Slim asked her when she would need assistance from his hands and she said she’d need his guys the next day. That was when the furniture would begin arriving.

  “That’s cutting it mighty close,” he’d said, eating a dish of apple cobbler while Jeb was on the phone schmoozing a potential client. “So, I’m scheduling myself in your team, too.”

  That surprised her. “Really?”

  “Sure. I want to see you succeed.” He sm
iled sheepishly. “You remind me of my oldest daughter.”

  “You have a family?”

  Slim rolled his eyes. “No. They found me under a rock.”

  She laughed. “I didn’t mean that! I’m talking about being married. I didn’t even know you had been.”

  “Was. Like Jeb, I’m a victim of divorce.” He took a bite, chewed and swallowed. “Ranch life isn’t easy on a marriage.”

  Sophie held back an “Oh,” of understanding that lifted her spirits. If Jeb had been married to the woman who had owned the pink weights, pink robe and pink everything she’d found in the workout room that meant they didn’t belong to a girlfriend. Of course, jumping to the conclusion that those things belonged to an ex-wife might actually be wishful thinking, if only because that meant he was free.

  Still, it wouldn’t do her any good that he was free. She wouldn’t pursue him and he wouldn’t pursue her. He didn’t like kids and she had one. Plus, she’d be gone in two weeks. No worry about them connecting in any way but professionally.

  But she was curious.

  And she couldn’t ask Slim. If there was one thing she’d seen about ranch life, it was that the people who worked here were loyal. She’d never ask Slim a question he’d have to refuse to answer because she sure as heck knew he’d never betray Jeb.

  “So what did you do in California?”

  “Do?”

  “I thought I’d start sneakily asking you questions about your life and what you like and don’t like so I could figure out a gift to buy you as a way to thank you for the pie.”

  She laughed. It was cobbler, but she didn’t correct him. His groans of appreciation while he ate kept her confidence high. “You don’t have to buy me a gift.”