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Still, she had to sleep somewhere. The ranch-house was obviously off limits—she could not sleep in the same house as Jason—and if there was another suitable building she couldn’t see it. Her car—of course! The thought came to her as she remembered that her suitcase was still in the boot.
But after just a few minutes in the car Morgan knew that she couldn’t spend the night there. After standing in the sun for hours, the car was a hell-hole, hot as a furnace and airless—impossible to breathe in, let alone sleep.
Which left only one place. Morgan recoiled at the very thought of the bunkhouse. How on earth could she bear to sleep there? Sharing quarters with the ranchhands—putting up with the ribaldries of a man like Hank. No, the bunkhouse was definitely out of the question!
There was nothing for it, after all, but to swallow her pride and speak to Jason. Somewhere there had to be an unused building, and he would have to let her use it.
But when Morgan knocked on the door of the ranch-house there was no answer. She walked around to the back, and there was no answer there either. There were no barking dogs and no sign of Jason’s Jeep.
Boy, was she in trouble!
The words she had said to Jason earlier returned to haunt her now: ‘Nothing would please me more than if you treated me like one of the men... As far as you’re concerned, I’m just one more ranch-hand.’
They had been words spoken in the heat of the moment. And now took at the dilemma she was in!
The cowboys were still busy with their ball-game when Morgan, giving them a wide berth, carried her suitcase quickly into the bunkhouse.
Her heart sank as she took in the long room. It reminded her of a dormitory she had once occupied. Beds lined the walls, a cupboard and a bureau beside each one. At one end there was a television set and several chesterfields. The place was clean, even comfortable in its own way, but overwhelmingly masculine.
The thought of sleeping here was so appalling that it occurred to Morgan, for the first time, that Jason could be right. Perhaps, after all, she had no place at Six-Gate Corral. Perhaps she should leave first thing tomorrow.
And then she remembered her dream. I’m here. A month at a ranch. A chance to realize my dream. Seen in that light, it didn’t seem to matter quite so much that she might have to spend the night in the bunkhouse. Her resolve stiffened.
In a dim corner at the far end of the room and at a little distance from the other beds Morgan found one that looked as if it didn’t belong to anyone. She shoved her case quickly beneath it, before climbing—still fullyclothed—between the sheets.
As she lay there, feeling more nervous by the second, new problems came to mind. What on earth was she going to do about dressing, about using the bathroom? But for every problem there had to be a solution. Morgan forced herself to think calmly. She would steal out of the bunkhouse very early in the morning, she decided, long before the men opened their eyes. The cookhouse had a bathroom. And tomorrow she would find some other place to sleep.
It was growing dark outside when the cowboys began to arrive back at the bunkhouse. Morgan lay quite still, the thin grey blanket pulled up to her chin and her breathing as shallow as she could make it—hoping against hope that no one would see her. And, in fact, no one did. They didn’t even come near her bed.
Most of the men gathered around the television, where a baseball game was in progress. Baseball was evidently a favourite game at the ranch, and much debated. There were loud cheers when certain players did well and boos when they performed badly.
In her dark corner Morgan began to relax just a little. Tomorrow she would make other sleeping arrangements. For tonight, despite her doubts, this was going to be OK.
It was quite dark outside when a new voice was heard in the bunkhouse. Around the television the excited comments stilled.
‘Morgan’s missing,’ Jason was saying. ‘The new cook. Anyone see her?’
‘Not since supper.’ That was Charlie’s voice.
‘Pretty lady like her, we’d have noticed her around.’ Hank was speaking. ‘Maybe the cooking’s too much for her and she’s left the ranch.’
Listening to the comments, Morgan lay rigid. Her breathing was shallow, and in her stomach a hard knot of tension had formed. The one thing she had not considered was that Jason might come looking for her. It had been stupid of her perhaps, but there had been more pressing things to think about.
‘She isn’t in the cookhouse, but her car is where she left it.’ Jason sounded strangely troubled. ‘She’s still on the ranch—somewhere.’
‘Maybe she’s in your bed, waiting for you,’ Hank suggested.
‘Cut it out!’ an enraged Charlie shouted.
Jason ignored Hank’s comment. ‘Have to find her. It’s dark now and she doesn’t know her way around. I’ve searched everywhere I can think of. Only place I haven’t looked is here.’
‘The bunkhouse?’ The baseball game was forgotten for the moment as the cowboys stared at their employer, amazed at the suggestion.
‘Could she be in the bunkhouse, guys?’ he asked. To a man, the cowboys said that wasn’t possible but Jason persisted. ‘Before we get out a search party, mind if I scout around?’
He found her minutes later, still trying to make herself invisible in the corner bed. For a long moment he stood scowling down at her, well over six feet of irate man—powerful, dangerous, infinitely intimidating.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded at last. His voice was taut with anger, his face a furious mask.
‘Jason...’ she whispered, so nervous that she was shaking.
‘Nothing but trouble from the moment you got here,’ he snarled. ‘Get out of that bed, Morgan, and be quick about it.’
‘Jason,’ she said again and stopped. By now the cowboys were gathering around the bed.
Not surprisingly, Hank elbowed his way to the front. ‘If it isn’t the luscious Morgan,’ he drawled.
‘Leave her alone, Hank!’ Charlie was there as well.
‘Get lost, kiddo,’ the big man snarled at him. ‘She likes guys, don’t you, honey?’
‘That’s enough, Hank,’ a stony-faced Jason said. And to Morgan he added, ‘Come with me.’
‘Hey, Boss,’ Hank protested, ‘why don’t you let the woman be? Seems to me she’s after some fun. I’ll see she gets it.’
‘You heard me, Hank,’ Jason warned, while beside him Charlie bristled.
Alarmed by the mounting tension, Morgan tried to calm the men. ‘Jason, Charlie, you don’t need to protect me. I can look after myself.’ And to Hank she said, ‘You won’t lay a finger on me, cowboy, so why don’t you get lost?’
The hard-faced man laughed unpleasantly. ‘The pretty lady has spirit. This is going to be fun. I want to get to know you better, honey. Your bed or mine, and d’you want to wait till the rest of them are asleep or d’you want a good time now?’
‘Enough, Hank,’ Jason warned again, a note of anger etching the calmness of his tone.
‘Hell, Boss, why not? This dame isn’t a lady, and I believe she wants to get better acquainted.’
‘Cut it out!’ Charlie yelled.
At the same moment Jason rounded on Hank, his expression savage. As two of the men held Hank back the others looked on disbelievingly. In the bunkhouse the level of tension was so intense that the air crackled.
A few seconds passed. And then slowly, deliberately—as if with an effort—Jason stepped back. Hank’s exhalation of breath was audible. The men who had been holding him loosened their grip on his arms.
Jason turned to Morgan. ‘You’ll get out of that bed right now or I won’t answer for the consequences.’
Mutely Morgan stared up at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand her dilemma. To get out of bed when all the cowboys were watching would be the ultimate in humiliation.
‘Listen to me, Morgan.’ Bending low over the bed with his lips almost touching her ear, Jason spoke in a voice that only she could hear. ‘If you don’t get out of bed right now I’ll have to carry you. I don’t have to tell you that all the men, but especially Hank, will love the entertainment.’
Morgan did not doubt that Jason meant what he said. He left her little choice. With all the dignity she was able to muster in a situation that did not allow for much dignity—and watched by thirty pairs off interested male eyes—she pushed aside the blanket and neatly swung her legs off the bed.
Jason picked up her suitcase and Morgan allowed him to take her arm and propel her through the group of men because she knew that it would do her no good—and probably a lot of harm—to protest. Charlie smiled at her as she was leaving the bunkhouse, and she smiled back. Hank’s lecherous gaze she avoided.
‘I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own case,’ Morgan said when they were well away from the bunkhouse. ‘Anyway, we’re not going in the same direction.’
The remark earned her a furious look. ‘I hope you’re not thinking of going back there,’ Jason snapped. ‘Even you can’t be as stupid as that. I won’t come to your aid again, Morgan, and you can’t expect Charlie to go on protecting you from Hank.’
‘I was never in need of protection,’ Morgan said.
‘Really?’ Jason’s voice was quietly dangerous.
‘Until you came looking for me the men had no idea I was there. Anyway, I’m not going to the bunkhouse, I’m going to my car.’
‘You’re leaving?’ Jason’s tone was odd and his eyes held an inexplicable expression of bleakness.
‘That’s what you’d like, isn’t it?’ Morgan threw the words at him bitterly.
‘Is that what you think?’ Jason asked enigmatically.
Looking up at him, Morgan was struck once more by an appearance that was all rugged toughness. The modelling part of her career brought her into the company of many attractive men. She remembered a man by the name of Casey who had striven for just this tough cowboy effect. But on Casey the stetson and boots, the carefully applied tan and the macho stance had looked contrived—perhaps because Casey was anything but a real cowboy. Jason was the genuine article. For a moment Morgan stared up at him, bemused.
‘I haven’t forgotten your warning,’ she remarked. ‘You said you’d be watching me every moment. I guess you feel free to fire me now. After all, you’ve been wanting me to go ever since you set eyes on me.’
‘What I want isn’t an issue right now.’ Jason’s jaw was inflexible.
Morgan was puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘If you’re thinking of leaving the ranch you’ve left it too late—for today, anyway. It’s dark and you’d get lost long before you reached the highway.’
‘And you don’t want to be responsible if anything happens to me. Jason Delaney, owner of Six-Gate Corral, letting an irresponsible female loose at night on the lonely prairie. Wouldn’t do your reputation much good, would it?’
‘You really are the most provocative woman,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘It will be good riddance when you do hit the road. And you’re right—I don’t want you on my conscience.’
‘Actually,’ Morgan said unhappily, ‘I don’t want to leave. Despite everything that’s happened. I want to stay at Six-Gate Corral until Brent gets back.’
Jason stiffened—no doubt, Morgan thought wryly, because he realized that he was not to be rid of her after all.
‘In that case,’ he asked aloofly, ‘why are you going to your car?’
Morgan looked up at him, and as usual she had to tilt her head. ‘I have nowhere else to sleep.’
Jason was silent for several seconds. When he spoke at last his tone was unwilling, the words abrupt and hard—as if they were being dragged from him. ‘There is a place—I took it for granted you knew that.’
Morgan looked at him hopefully. ‘An outbuilding?’
‘The ranch-house.’
‘I will not sleep with you, Jason Delaney!’ The words were out before Morgan realized how they would sound.
Jason’s hands gripped her arms. They were big hands, and strong. Hands that would be able to rope a steer just as competently as the hands of any of the cowboys. Hands that would rouse a woman to unimaginable heights with the same ease. Morgan was suddenly burning hot.
‘Don’t remember inviting you to sleep with me,’ Jason drawled sarcastically.
Morgan stared at him angrily. ‘It wouldn’t matter if you had. Either way the answer would have been the same.’
An eyebrow lifted. ‘Fact is,’ Jason went on drily, ‘for several good reasons you can’t sleep in the car—so the house is your only option. And I refuse—do you hear me, Morgan? I refuse to argue about it any more.’
In silence they made their way to the house. They walked side by side yet apart, as if each was determined to keep a deliberate distance from the other.
As they went inside Morgan remembered her first impression of the house—that it would have been lovely if it had not been quite so spartan. It was tidy and spotlessly clean, but devoid of any personal touch. There were few pictures, no vases of flowers and not a single ornament.
When Jason had put down Morgan’s suitcase in a guest room that was as neat and functional as the rest of the house he rounded on her. ‘Suppose you tell me what you were doing in the bunkhouse?’
‘I’ve already told you, I needed a place to sleep.’
‘Don’t remember telling you to go to the bunkhouse, Morgan.’
‘You didn’t, exactly—well, at least, not in so many words.’
One eyebrow lifted. ‘You’d better explain since I’m not in the mood for riddles.’
The arrogance of his expression was annoying. ‘You said I’d be treated just like the men.’
Jason stared at Morgan, before breaking into sudden and unexpected laughter. ‘What I said was that you shouldn’t expect special treatment.’ The laughter stopped as his dark eyes studied her intently. ‘I also said—’ his voice was quiet now ‘—that it would be difficult to think of you as one of them.’ His eyes were on her breasts and her hips. ‘In fact,’ he added drily, ‘it would be impossible.’
The expression in Jason’s eyes, that odd tone in his voice, made Morgan shiver. She tried to make herself ignore the feelings he awoke in her. She was already far too aware of his overwhelming masculinity—a quality that had as much to do with his superb build and looks as with his ever-present aura of strength and power. Jason was an implacable adversary, and it was imperative that she kept a clear head in all her dealings with him.
‘Didn’t it occur to you that you were humiliating me?’ she demanded indignantly. ‘Bossing me about in the bunkhouse. Demeaning me in front of the men—in front of that odious Hank. Threatening me.’
‘You didn’t get out of bed the first time I asked you.’
‘Only because the cowboys were standing around, and I was waiting for them to move away. I didn’t want a bunch of guys watching me. Besides, you didn’t ask, Jason, you ordered me.’
‘Have it your own way.’ Jason was impatient now. ‘We keep getting back to one fact. I didn’t invite you to my ranch, Morgan. I wouldn’t have let you have the job had I known about it. I can’t help it if you look at a request as an order. I don’t really care. One thing I do ask you to remember—I am boss here, and if you choose to stay I expect you to play by my rules.’
‘I don’t seem to have any other option,’ Morgan said tensely. And then, because she couldn’t help being interested, she asked, ‘Would you really have carried me out of the bunkhouse?’
‘You bet I would,’ he told her crisply.
He stood not two feet from her, towering above her and radiating such a powerful aura of sexuality that Morgan’s nerve endings felt raw. She ached with the longing to be swept up into those powerful arms and to feel the beat of his heart against her cheek.
Reluctant for Jason to read her emotions in her eyes, she forced herself to look away from him. Unsteadily she said, ‘Despite anything you might think, I’d have been OK in the bunkhouse.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘I’ve been around men. I can take care of myself.’
‘You really believe you could have handled those cowboys?’ he taunted.
‘Sure. Why not?’
‘I’ll tell you why not.’ Jason’s voice was hard. ‘They’re a lusty lot. Women are a rarity out here, Morgan, and when they’re about they attract attention.’
She knew what he was trying to tell her but his arrogance drove her to challenge him. ‘I still believe I’d have coped.’
‘Don’t be so sure, woman. You’ve only been here a few hours and already there’s tension on the ranch. You’d be blind if you hadn’t noticed it. Hank, aggressive and on the prowl. Charlie, ready to protect you. Too ready. I won’t have violence at Six-Gate Corral, Morgan. The odd spat is normal enough when you get a bunch of men, living and working together—especially tough men, as these are. But out-and-out fighting, alliances forming, one lot of men against another—that kind of thing leads to major trouble. I won’t tolerate it, Morgan.’
‘I don’t like violence any more than you do, Jason.’
‘Then let me warn you, if you insist on staying—and I’m asking you not to—sooner or later the men will come to blows over you.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ she said heatedly. ‘They won’t fight because of me. I won’t be doing anything to encourage them.’
‘You can’t help being yourself, Morgan. Hank won’t change and Charlie will for ever defend what he thinks of as your honour, poor misguided fool.’
Morgan suppressed a shiver. ‘Don’t you think that in time the men will accept me as one of them?’
Jason gave a short laugh. ‘How can they?’ He studied her a few seconds in silence. When he went on his eyes were hard. ‘You said you went to the bunkhouse because you needed a place to sleep. Was that the only reason, Morgan?’
‘What other reason could I possibly have had?’
‘That’s what I’m wondering.’ His tone was heavy with sarcasm.
It wasn’t difficult to understand what he meant. Feeling a little ill, Morgan stared up into the ruggedly handsome face. ‘Why do you dislike me so much, Jason?’ she asked at last. ‘To my knowledge, I’ve done nothing to offend you yet from the moment I came here you’ve shown me nothing but hostility. Why?’
Jason ignored the question. Instead he said relentlessly, ‘Didn’t it occur to you that your presence in the bunkhouse would be regarded as an invitation?’
‘No—because I tried so hard not to be seen.’ Her voice shook.
She saw the flash of steel in his dark eyes and the movement of muscle in his hard jaw. ‘A woman in a bed meant for a man. Come on, Morgan, don’t pretend you’re naïve because I don’t believe it for a moment.’
‘Don’t you care that you’re insulting me, Jason?’
‘Is that what I’m doing?’ he jeered.
‘Yes! How do you think the things you say make me feel?’
Brooding eyes ravaged her face. ‘OK, Morgan, supposing you only went to the bunkhouse to sleep, what would you have done if one of the men had tried something? Really tried?’
‘I’d have defended myself,’ she said shortly. And when she saw the cynical look in his eyes she added, ‘I thought I’d made that clear in the bunkhouse.’
‘You spoke a few brave words. Don’t suppose they meant anything.’
‘Oh, but they did. Neither you nor Charlie would have had to help me, Jason. You see, I’ve been to a self-defence class.’
Jason grinned. ‘Really?’
A second later she was in his arms. It happened so quickly that Morgan was taken by surprise. One moment they were facing each other across the little room and the next the strongest arms she had ever encountered were wrapped around her and Jason’s mouth had fastened on hers.
His kiss was hard, so punishing in its onslaught that for a few seconds Morgan could scarcely breathe let alone think. It was half a minute at least before she remembered the self-defence course she had mentioned and had never had occasion to use. Another half-minute went by before she could think clearly enough to consider what move she should make. And by then the nature of Jason’s kisses had changed.
They became softer and sweeter. There was a tenderness in them which made Morgan dizzy and numbed her thought processes. Sensations she had never experienced stirred in the very core of her being, setting her on fire with their intensity. The body against which she was welded was rock-hard, overwhelmingly masculine, making her feel deliciously feminine. Any thought of defending herself fled from her mind as she parted her lips in response to the demanding mouth over hers, and her fingers buried themselves in the hair at the nape of a corded neck.
When Jason lifted his mouth at last Morgan looked up at him in a daze.
‘What happened to the self-defence skills?’ he asked contemptuously.
‘I...I was about to use them.’
‘Right,’ he said, and she knew that he knew she was lying.
Her cheeks were suddenly flushed. ‘I could have.’
‘Could you, Morgan? Maybe so. On the other hand, if brave intentions are the extent of your ability then I can tell you right now that you wouldn’t stand a chance against a man like Hank.’ He went on as she stared at him wordlessly. ‘A word of advice, Morgan. If you don’t know how to fight a fire, don’t kindle flames.’
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