The last thing this bachelor rancher needs?

Temptation beneath the mistletoe!

Rancher Marshall Steele’s emotions are on lockdown—until he meets his beautiful new housekeeper. A desire this strong won’t lead to anything but trouble. And yet Marshall can’t stop wanting Tally Benson—her beauty, her kindness. As the holidays heat up, he vows to have her and then let her go. But will their passion survive the secrets she’s been keeping?

USA TODAY bestselling author CATHERINE MANN has won numerous awards for her novels, including both a prestigious RITA® Award and an RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award. After years of moving around the country bringing up four children, Catherine has settled in her home state of South Carolina, where she’s active in animal rescue. For more information, visit her website, catherinemann.com.

Also by Catherine Mann

The Baby Claim

The Double Deal

The Love Child

The Twin Birthright

The Second Chance

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

The Rancher’s Seduction

Catherine Mann

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07698-2

THE RANCHER’S SEDUCTION

© 2018 Catherine Mann

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Vickie Gerlach—

a dear reader and treasured friend!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Epilogue

Family Tree

Extract

About the Publisher

One

Tallulah Benson had been told at a young age that she’d been given an exciting name to go with a fairy-tale future. She just wished her life hadn’t stalled out at the floor-sweeping version of Cinderella. No crystal slippers for her. She spent her days in sneakers.

She climbed the icy steps to the porch on the sprawling ranch home. To call it a log cabin would be an understatement since the two-story structure sported over eight thousand square feet—or so the job assignment had stated.

Bottom line, Tallulah—Tally—was grateful to have steady work as a housekeeper to pay her bills. If this latest gig cleaning for one of the oil-wealthy Steele family members went well, her résumé would be padded for more jobs cleaning for the rich and famous, which carried a substantial bump in her hourly rate. She needed the work. Both of her parents had died before her eighteenth birthday. She had no cushy savings or family safety net to fall back on.

By nineteen, she’d learned all too well how harsh life could be when no one had her back. Ten years hadn’t dimmed the pain of giving up her baby for adoption, even knowing she’d made the right decision for her newborn son. These days, she controlled her life.

Tally stabbed the doorbell, the tones pealing through the walls of rancher Marshall Steele’s home.

Marshall had used a twice-a-week cleaning service in the past. But a recent accident during a rodeo had left him with a broken arm during the Christmas season. So she’d been hired full-time for six weeks, at his doctor’s recommendation. The opportunity she’d been waiting for.

She had a history with his family.

She tapped the doorbell again, but no one came. She knocked on the thick oak door and—

A blistering curse cut the air.

Another expletive reverberated, followed by a substantial splash. She gripped the thick wooden rail, looking around. The frozen pond out front was clear and unbroken. Thank goodness. Winters in Alaska could be treacherous.

More curses carried on the late-afternoon wind. Now that the shock had passed, she realized the shouts were most definitely coming from the back of the house.

She secured her grasp on her heavy purse and picked her way faster down the steps and along the slick walk. Her feet crunched through packed snow, trees creating an icy arbor as she followed the voice to the back of the ranch-style mansion.

A glass dome covered a pool area.

She peered through the frost-speckled windows. Unable to believe what she saw, she blinked, and still the strange vision was clear as day.

A towering man with jet-black hair waded chest-deep in the water with his arm overhead to keep his cast dry.

It could only be her boss, Marshall Steele. Risking his cast—or worse yet, risking slipping into the depths—to save a dog.

Marshall inched closer to a scruffy little mutt paddling in panicked circles. Tally’s heart squeezed in sympathy for the dog, her gaze drawn to the pup’s unlikely savior. Time to quit gawking and act.

She prayed the side door of the solarium was unlocked. She tugged and—thank goodness—the sliding glass panes parted. “Hello? Can I help you?”

A gust of wind blew through the open door, rippling the man’s discarded jacket by the pool, Stetson on top shuddering slightly.

He didn’t answer, his focus on the dog. Maybe he hadn’t heard her?

Rushing closer, she needed to help before he got the plaster wet. And the poor pup was gulping in water, growing more frantic by the second.

Tally tugged off her boots and slid out of her coat before wading down the steps. “Hello? Let me get the puppy before you get your cast wet or slip—”

He glanced over his shoulder.

She almost lost her footing. His coal-dark eyes chased away the chill in an instant, sparking tingles of awareness. Such magnetism. Such mystery.

Such raw sex appeal.

It wasn’t fair for one man to be that handsome and rich. His thick black hair curled ever so slightly from the water. He had impossibly long eyelashes and dark eyes with an exotic air. The hard lines of his body broadcast muscles earned the old-fashioned way and not through a gym.

This was her boss?

Heaven help her. Life wasn’t fair sometimes. Given the secrets she held, the sensual draw posed a serious risk. But her need for peace with the past and a steady future insisted she hold firm to taking this job.

She shrugged off the unwanted attraction and focused on plunging deeper into the pool, wading, then swimming past him in awkward splashes as the warmed waters pulled at her clothes.

“Be careful,” he called, his deep voice muffled by the water in her ears. “Don’t get bitten.”

She didn’t bother answering. She hadn’t thought about the scared canine biting an unfamiliar person. But the possibility didn’t deter her. The pup needed saving, and her boss needed to keep his cast dry. Yet another twist on her imagined fairy-tale life. She did the saving these days.

Swooping an arm forward, she wriggled her fingers. And just missed the mutt. She heard more splashing behind her as her boss—Marshall—approached.

The dog’s head dipped from sight. Panic flared inside her, followed by determination. She dived underwater and powered toward the sinking dog. She stretched her arms, making every inch count. She reached with both hands and sank her fingers into the fur, hauling the little fella tightly to her chest.

Kicking hard, she powered to the surface and extended her arms upward. The soggy scrap squirmed in her grip, gasping for air. Her feet found the bottom, and she started toward the shallow end.

Slamming straight into a steel wall of wet man.

Of course he couldn’t have conveniently been some flabby octogenarian. Her boss was so hot, she half expected the water dripping from him to start steaming off his muscled body instead.

“Um,” she stuttered, “excuse me.”

“Nothing to excuse. You’ve saved the day.” His low voice was as sexy as those muscles.

“Hardly.” She eased past him. She’d worked too hard to nab this job to let wayward attraction derail her.

In sync, they sank back onto the pool steps, side by side, his thigh against hers.

“Thanks for getting Nugget,” he said gruffly, taking the squirming dog from her with one hand. Not a puppy at all, but a full-grown small-breed dog. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said breathlessly, wondering why she didn’t move away. “How’s your cast?”

“Fine, no worries.” His injured arm rested on the edge of the pool, the soaked mutt tucked under his other arm. “I appreciate your assistance out there. Nugget slipped into the pool as we were coming in from a walk. He got disoriented and couldn’t find the steps.”

This scraggly little brown scrap was his? She would have expected this man to have some large breed, a hunting dog maybe.

What other surprises did this Alaskan oil baron heir have in store?

“Glad to have been of service,” she said.

“And you are?” He lifted an eyebrow, his gaze flickering ever so quickly over her wet shirt. Not lingering so long to be offensive, but just enough to relay interest.

And he didn’t know who she was.

Awkward.

She should have realized... “I’m your new housekeeper, Tallulah Benson. People call me Tally.”

His smile faded, and he stepped from the pool. When he stood, water dripped from his soaked jeans. Denim clung to one of the best butts she’d ever seen.

“Ah. Tallulah Benson. Right. You’re the person my doctor and stepmother conspired to hire.”

Conspired? His stepmother—Jeannie Steele—had implied she was merely helping him with the interview process. Tally rose, the enclosed area not as warm now that she was drenched. “I was under the impression your arm limits mobility for certain tasks.” She cast an exaggerated glance at the shimmering waters. “Such as swimming.”

“I would have managed,” he said on his way to a set of shelves with stacks of folded towels. “Worst-case scenario, the cast might have needed to be replaced.”

“No doubt you would have been just fine.” Provided he hadn’t slipped. “But you don’t have to manage. Are we going to stand here and catch pneumonia while we argue, or am I hired?”

“Hey, I’m sorry to be a bear.” He pulled a tight smile, flexing his hand at the end of his cast. “I know this isn’t your fault. You’re just doing your job.”

“So happy we’re finally on the same page about my working here.”

“For six weeks. But just so we’re clear, I’m not incapable of taking care of myself.” He opened a large cabinet and pulled a towel free, wrapping up the shivering pup.

“Understood. And I’m not a nurse. I’m here to clean and cook for you.” She grinned, crinkling her nose. “And save your puppy.”

The glimmer of humor in his dark eyes sparked a hunger deep in her belly. She’d been so busy working the past couple of years to make ends meet, there’d been virtually no time for dating, much less something more intimate. Not that it was a possibility with her boss, especially not this boss. She was holding on to secrets about her father’s role in his family’s tragedy.

“Please help yourself to the towels. I would get one for you, but I’m limited these days.”

She reached past him for the fluffy terry cloth, more to shield herself than to dry off. Her breasts were beading with awareness, much to her embarrassment. Hopefully he would chalk it up to the cold weather. She prided herself on her professionalism. She might not be from an oil-rich family like him, but she was proud of her work. Of the life she’d built all by herself.

Life hadn’t been as easy for her as it had been for Marshall Steele, born with money and good looks.

She hugged the plush towel.

An awkward silence fell between them, a truly inauspicious start to her first day on the job. This man—his well-being—was a part of her job description.

“Are you all right? Did you get your cast wet or slip before I arrived?” she asked. “We should get you checked out by the doctor.”

“You’re not my nurse, remember?” He tossed her words back at her. “And you don’t look anything like a Tallulah.”

He’d been expecting someone more...formal perhaps? There wasn’t much she could do about that right now. But she would earn his respect with her job performance. “Well, I guess that’s why people call me Tally.” She smiled. “The service said you’d asked for live-in help over the Christmas season while your arm heals.”

“Live-in?” He tossed aside the damp towel and wrapped a fresh one around the dog. “I was expecting day service.”

“It’s a long drive from town, especially if the weather’s bad, which is typical this time of year.” She struggled to keep the panic out of her voice, her teeth chattering. “I was told there would be room and board included.”

“My stepmother overreached. Just because she’s been married to my father for a few months doesn’t give her the right to schedule my life.”

A cold knot started in her stomach. Tally had heard rumors that things were strained blending families when the Steele patriarch had married the widowed matriarch of their business rivals, the Mikklesons. The news had been full of bumps in the road as the Steeles and Mikkelsons merged their companies into the Alaska Oil Barons.

Tally needed to make him understand her need to stay here. “I’ve already sublet my apartment to an older couple from Kansas who want an extended Alaskan Christmas.”

“Sounds like you’re in a pickle.”

His dismissive tone set her teeth on edge. This wasn’t a game to her. This position was crucial to her finally putting her past to rest. She needed to keep the job, and she didn’t have the disposable income to just find another place to live. Never again would she be flat broke and vulnerable.

“I signed a contract. It clearly states room and board are included.”

“I’ll reimburse you, and you can stay in a hotel.” And still he hadn’t opened the door into the house.

Someone as wealthy as Marshall Steele couldn’t possibly understand what it felt like to have no one to depend on, no options.

“Your stepmother will be upset.” She searched for the right tone to persuade him to go along with Jeannie Mikkelson Steele’s plan. “She seems like a very caring person with your best interest at heart.”

“And she’s your boss.”

“No. Actually, you are my boss.”

“If I let you stay.” His half smile encouraged her.

And enticed her.

She hugged her towel tighter around herself. “We can debate the details later. Right now, it seems there are more pressing matters at hand. Such as caring for the dog and finding dry clothes.” She held up a conciliatory hand between them. “Can we please table this discussion until we’re both in dry clothes?”

His eyes flashed with heat again, just a hint, that awareness staying in the respectful realm while still flattering. “Fair enough.” He nodded toward the door. “Follow me and I’ll show you to a guest suite. I assume since you planned to stay, you have a suitcase.”

“I do.” She rushed to add, “And please don’t insist on getting it. It won’t look good on my résumé if you break your other arm.”

He chuckled, but his jaw had a stubborn set. “If I let you carry your own luggage, I’ll have to surrender rights to my Stetson. You can hold Nugget while I get your things out of your car.”

He passed the dog to her. Without another word, he disappeared outside in his wet clothes. She cuddled the little dog—some kind of tiny terrier—close. Her boss was a stubborn one, all right. She would do well to remember that and tread warily. Surrendering on the suitcase issue seemed wise. She secured the towel around the shivering dog and cradled him like a baby.

Working for anyone in the oil-rich Steele family would prove to be a boon in more ways than one. She could pad her résumé in a way her previous jobs hadn’t provided. And being with the Steele family could give her the opportunity to somehow make peace with her past. She desperately needed to find resolution for how the long-ago tragedy in Marshall’s life had eventually led to her own father’s suicide. He’d been her last living relative, other than a newborn baby she’d given up the next year.

How surreal that her life, her past, was so entwined with this man’s. Not that he or his family even knew who she was. And she preferred to keep it that way for now. As far as they knew, she was just the temporary maid service.

But she was also the daughter of the drunk airplane mechanic responsible for the death of Marshall’s mother and sister.

“Nugget, it appears our quiet bachelor-pad lifestyle has suffered an invasion,” Marshall Steele said to his scrappy little mutt, currently sprawled on the bathroom floor, clearly savoring the heated tiles.

Easing the arm of a T-shirt over his cast, Marshall couldn’t stop thinking about the new cleaning lady who would be living under his roof for the next six weeks.

He preferred the solitude of his ranch home, or of recreational time spent riding and reading. Solitude was something the rest of his overlarge family didn’t seem to understand. The cleaning lady was the latest in their well-meaning attempts to help him. He’d thought their insisting on the holiday charity fund-raiser being held at his house was a rather heavy-handed way of interfering with his social life. But sending a sexy woman to live in his house for the next six weeks was definitely going overboard.

And yes, he was grouchy as hell after taking a tumble at the end of a rodeo ten days ago, breaking his dominant arm in two places. The cast and sling left him barely able to dress himself. He was stuck wearing shirts a size too large so he could wedge his cast through. Thanks to one ill-timed kick from a horse, he couldn’t even manage to save a ten-pound mutt from a paddle in a pool.

A mutt currently drifting off to sleep, unimpressed with anything Marshall had to say.

He worked the button fly on his jeans, trying to keep his mind off images of his new housekeeper in her suite changing into dry clothes, too. Images of her sleeping under his roof at night.

Having her work days here helping prepare for the upcoming fund-raiser to be held at his home would have been somewhat simpler to manage than having her be his damn babysitter. But it wasn’t fair to penalize her for his family’s overreach.

Which left him with a dilemma.

He believed her when she said she’d sublet her place to save money. And she was correct that his stepmother—and therefore his father, too—would be upset if Marshall rejected help recovering. But Tally was a significant distraction.

He kept a rigid control over his world now, a far cry from his partying years full-time on the rodeo circuit. He’d played hard—drunk hard. Too hard. He’d been sober now for four years. Not a minute of it easy, but then taking it one day at a time was part of the program.

He should have known better than to step back into the rodeo ring, even for a onetime special show. For an instant, he’d been distracted by demons from the past, and now he had a broken arm to show for it.

As well as the knowledge it could have been much worse if that hoof had caught him in the gut or head.

He needed to get his focus back and his life reined in again. Holidays were difficult enough with the stress they brought, but with his recent accident... He was in a vulnerable place. He needed to steer clear of any temptations that could derail his sobriety.

He picked up the phone and dialed his father. “Dad, you and I need to have a talk.”

Jack Steele chuckled on the other end. “About what?”

“I’m not sure what agenda you and Jeannie have going on, but it’s not going to work.” The two were inseparable. Marshall found it tough to believe his father wouldn’t know about the new employee. He snagged his socks from the top of his dresser and sat on his king-size bed.

“You’ll have to give me more information. I’m in the dark.”

Marshall thumbed the phone on speaker with a frustrated sigh so he could tug on his socks one-handed. “Just because so many of your kids are settling down doesn’t mean I’m interested in joining the ranks of the duly domesticated.”

“So you keep telling us,” his father answered. “And what does this have to do with Jeannie?”

“I agreed for her to hire a part-time housekeeper. Not a live-in Victoria’s Secret supermodel.”

His dad laughed again, louder this time. “Son, I don’t see why the two are mutually exclusive. Seems that would be politically incorrect and downright wrong to factor looks into the hiring equation.”

Something was up. He just didn’t know what. “Did Jeannie interview the prospects?”

The line went silent.

“My point exactly.”

“So the housekeeper’s that attractive?”

Understatement. Her red hair, perfect curves and personality full of grit had sparked a fire in him. “Well, it didn’t help that she was starring in a wet T-shirt contest when we met.”

His father spluttered on the other end of the phone. “Run that by me again?”

“I was in the pool fishing out Nugget—”

“Whoa. Hold on. You were swimming with your cast on?”

“The dog fell in, so to call my rescue efforts ‘swimming’ is a stretch. Besides, I kept my arm above the water.” He tugged on gym shoes. Even putting on his boots was an ordeal.

“That was damn reckless,” his father said softly. “What if you’d reinjured yourself, worse this time?”

“Then I would have gotten patched up again. I couldn’t let Nugget drown. You would have done the same.”

A low grunt carried through the phone line. “True enough. How did the pup end up in the pool?”

“We were coming in from a walk,” he said, casting an eye at the scraggly pup who had come into his life when a member of his AA group had moved to Europe, “and Nugget ran through the sunroom door full tilt straight into the water.”

“Then the new hire showed up?”

“Exactly. Tallulah Benson’s got spunk, I’ll give her that.” He couldn’t shake the memory of seeing her plunge into the water, determination firing in her hazel eyes. And for heaven’s sake, how was it he remembered her eye color? “She jumped in, pushed right past me and scooped up Nugget.”

“Ah, thus the wet T-shirt reference.”

“Uh-huh.” The revived image of her soaking wet with all those curves on display threatened to steal his focus clean out from under him. “I was worried about her getting bitten since the mutt was so freaked out by this point. But she handled things with complete calm and competence.”

“She’ll need it to deal with you.”

“Are you insinuating I’m difficult?”

“Not insinuating. I’m stating facts. You’re stubborn, which can be good when you have a task to accomplish and bad when it holds you back from asking for help.” He paused. “I’m concerned about you.”

There was something in his father’s voice that gave Marshall pause. No one knew about his alcoholism. But had his dad somehow figured it out? Was the cleaning lady some kind of family spy to keep track of his sobriety?

The thought felt paranoid, but there was something reserved about Tally’s sparkling hazel eyes, a hint of secrets...

Although who was he to judge? He had secrets of his own to keep from her.

“Dad, let’s just say the position of the live-in cleaning lady is contingent upon my say-so and leave it at that.”

No matter how intense the draw of his housekeeper, he was going to table the attraction for as long as she was working for him.

Two

Being drawn to her boss was not wise. At all.

But the laws of attraction defied logic.

She needed to get dressed quickly and start to work before her logic slipped further away.

Tally tugged on a soft long-sleeved cotton shirt—her work uniform along with khaki slacks. She just had to hold firm for six weeks. Surely she could keep her hormones reined in for that long.

She reached for her fur-lined ankle boots, her toes still chilly from her dip in the pool. Even the heated water had left her sprinting for her suite, teeth chattering.

Or maybe it was the man who’d sent her running, needing distance from her tempting boss. It was better to focus firmly on her job.

She’d cleaned a few upscale houses, but nothing like this. Her bedroom was more of a suite, larger than her apartment. No wonder room and board was such a big deal with this kind of accommodations.

Sure, she was proud of the life she had built and the place she called home. Everything in her apartment served a utilitarian purpose. This larger-than-her-lifestyle room felt antithetical to her experiences, but she couldn’t deny the appeal. Floor-to-ceiling arched windows allowed natural light to pour into the space, washing the dark furniture in a luxurious glow. She scrunched her toes, taking in the sensation of the plush carpet as her eyes pulled to the view out the windows. To the sight of rugged Alaskan wilderness, tall pine trees kissing the sky. A mountain loomed in the distance, looking so impossibly beautiful that it seemed painted. Tally could have stayed in this room for hours, just watching the breeze set the shrubbery to life.

Unable to justify delaying any longer, she made her way to the kitchen to prepare dinner, taking in pine panes on the ceiling. As she moved through the sparsely decorated hallways, Tally felt like she was winding her way through a forest. The incorporated wood features, the natural color palette. It all felt like an extension of the outside world.

The Steeles seemed to have everything money could buy...and yet they’d suffered the worst blow a family could face, losing two loved ones. She understood that kind of pain wasn’t anything money could fix. Her father had killed himself out of guilt for his role in that plane crash, and his death haunted her still.

She shook off thoughts of the past that threatened her focus. She needed to familiarize herself with the place, to do the best job possible so as not to arouse suspicion.

Like her bedroom, the kitchen featured a grand window over the sink, allowing another breathtaking view of the wilderness. The stone facade of the octagon kitchen island repeated the use of natural elements in the house. More stone framed the pine cabinets where condiments, spices and mixing bowls were carefully arranged. Laying a hand on the sand-colored granite countertop, she surveyed the rustic space. Light bounced off the glass cabinet panes. Built-in appliances were sleek and functional.

Perhaps she’d mischaracterized this space. Not quite a forest. The arrangement of stones reminded her of a special she’d seen on Viking halls. Something decidedly masculine about this space had her cheeks heating even though Marshall hadn’t reappeared. She’d been given a list of her boss’s preferences, courtesy of his new stepmother. What she hadn’t known how to make, she’d studied up on prior to arriving.

The inside of his refrigerator was just as incredible as the rest of the house.

Stocked to the nines with fruits, meats and a variety of cheeses. The freezer was every bit as impressive. She hadn’t even made it to the pantry yet, but she felt sure preparing meals here—and eating the food—would be a dream.

Cooking for Christmas in this restaurant-quality space would be memorable. She itched to get to work on researching menu options.

And yes, she was distracting herself with business to keep her mind off her boss. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected. The Steele siblings were all renowned for being attractive and intelligent. She should have researched more about Marshall in particular, but she’d never come across this issue in her work in the past. She’d considered herself immune. She’d been wrong.

But more unsettling, it seemed to her, those rogue feelings were reciprocated.

There’d been a curiosity in his eyes that gave her pause. She didn’t want him searching too deeply. She needed to keep her professionalism in place, do her job and lay family ghosts to rest. All so she could move forward with a future that was secure financially and emotionally.

“Tallulah...”

His voice pulled her out of her reverie.

“Tally,” she reminded him without looking over her shoulder. She kept her head buried in the refrigerator to cool her cheeks, which were already heating with a blush.

“Tally...” His footsteps drew closer. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making you something to eat. Hopefully you’ll share, because I’m starved,” she said with a brisk efficiency she hoped would set the right tone going forward.

A tone that didn’t involve the two of them soaking wet, inches apart.

“Ah, the whole room-and-board deal.” He leaned a hip on the polished stone counter.

Tally did her best not to appreciate his rugged unkempt hair, which curled ever so slightly. Or the way his scruff highlighted his sharp, strong jawline.

“Exactly.” She pulled out a package of ground moose and fresh vegetables for burgers. Not fancy, but fast and filling with top-quality ingredients. “Where’s your dog?”

“Nugget’s drying off in my bathroom, staying warm on the heated floor.”

A heated floor for a pup. This was definitely a world away from her little apartment. Another reason the attraction to this man was dangerous. A romance between her and her wealthy boss was an unlikely match from the get-go.

“I took a guess at what you would like based on what was in your refrigerator and a list of favorites from your stepmother. Although some of what’s in the fridge looks like meals brought over by others, perhaps to help during your recovery? You’re lucky to have so many people who care for you.” She tried to keep the wistfulness from her tone. She’d understood too well how difficult life could be without family support when she found herself alone and pregnant. Did Marshall appreciate the blessing of his big family?

“You’ve done better than I could have one-handed. Thanks.” He gestured to an indoor grill with a chimney vent. “Although I can grill them.”

“You could. But I prefer to earn my keep.” She busied her hands placing the ground meat in a bowl to keep from surrendering to the temptation to pick a piece of lint from his shirt. To touch him.

“There’s not going to be a lot to keep you occupied around this place.” He passed her the fresh spices. “I’m fairly self-sufficient, even with the cast.”

“No offense meant, but the place is dusty.” In fact, she’d already made a list of tasks to accomplish before the fund-raiser and in preparation for Christmas. The holidays were going to be chaotic enough blending the Steele and Mikkelson traditions. Luckily, much of the Christmas prep would also double as party prep. She needed to stay focused on her work, her tasks and her goal of making peace with her family’s past. “I don’t know what you were paying the other cleaning lady to do during her visits.”

“Are you angling to take her place permanently?”

His question caught her off guard. If her father hadn’t been the mechanic for that fated aircraft... If she hadn’t found her boss so incredibly attractive...

Then yes, this would have been the perfect job for her to seek long-term.

But that wasn’t the case.

“I’m only pointing out facts. My work will speak for itself and hopefully garner a good reference for another job.” She placed the patties out for the burgers, arranging three on a dish. “Wait until you see what I can do with my special brand of homemade fabric softener.”

“Homemade, huh?”

“I use all-natural cleaning supplies. Better for the environment and my health.” She’d started off mixing her own to save money and go easy on the environment, then found she liked the products better. She felt better, too—less sinus and skin irritation from work.

“Am I going to start seeing tofu and alfalfa sprouts in my food?” He tapped the plate, eyeing the burgers suspiciously.

“Do you like sprouts and tofu?” she found herself asking contrarily, even though they were both low on her list of favorites.

“Haven’t tried them.” He turned on the indoor grill, the flames licking upward to heat the grate.

“So you prejudge.” She was playing with fire, bantering with him. Yet she couldn’t seem to stop.

“Do you always argue with your employers?” He turned toward her to take the plate, their fingers brushing.

The light touch sent electricity crackling through her, leaving her loath to pull her hand from his.

“Not arguing. Just making conversation.”

“Uh-huh.” He took the plate, backing away slowly, then turned.

He flipped the burgers on the grill, the sizzling meat sending spicy scents into the air. His low growl of approval stirred her. Deeply. Calling to mind other primal pleasures.

Six weeks suddenly sounded like a very long time.

Heat built inside him faster than any smoking from the stone grill. Marshall watched Tally turn toward the pantry, all sass and sex rolled into one.

He read loud and clear the boss/employee boundaries she was keeping in place, and he respected her for that. And still...he was tempted.

Nudging the burgers on the grates and judging them nearly done, he knew full well there was no tofu or sprouts blended in since he didn’t keep any in stock. Still, she’d made him laugh. Something he didn’t do often.

Through narrowed eyes, he watched her arrange lettuce, pickle wedges and tomato slices on a small platter. She had a smooth way of moving, each motion blending right into the next.

Had they met a month ago, he would have pursued her like gangbusters. But with his broken arm and the taste for alcohol simmering just below the surface, he was reminded how tenuous sobriety could be.

He couldn’t afford change, not now.

She set a lone place at the table.

And somehow it seemed to be making a bigger deal out of the attraction not to do the obvious and invite her to join him. “Tally, set a place for yourself, too.”

She glanced at him quickly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth before nodding slowly. “We should plan out my work schedule.”

“Now?”

“If you’re too busy watching those burgers—” she stared at him pointedly with those alluring hazel eyes “—then just let me know when would be a better time.”

There she went, making him chuckle again. “Now’s fine. Let’s plan.”

“Thank you. I need to let the hospital know when I’m available.”

“Hospital?” he asked. Keeping up with this woman’s conversational diversionary paths could make a man dizzy. Then he thought of her “all natural” quest. Was she ill? She likely didn’t have much of a financial cushion to take time off.

He thought of his sister Naomi’s teenage battle with cancer. Her return to health had been draining. He couldn’t imagine someone managing such a major health crisis while working full-time.

Tally folded napkins alongside the silverware, deep red hair feathering down her back. “I volunteer in the NICU—neonatal ICU—holding babies that are there for extended stays.”

A sigh of relief left him. He also wondered how he’d let himself jump to such a dire conclusion so quickly. This woman had him off-balance with her sexy confidence and curves to match. “Aren’t their parents there to hold them?”

“The parents stay as much as possible, but they often have jobs or other children that make it impossible to be at the hospital twenty-four/seven. Touch is so important to any baby, and even more so for a struggling preemie building up their immune system.”

His admiration for her grew. She had a fiery crusader’s spirit to go with that fiery red hair. This was the kind of woman a man admired, the kind of woman a man married. And he wasn’t in the market for happily-ever-after.

He would wager money she wasn’t the affair type, even if he wasn’t her boss. Even if this had been a month ago, even if his life wasn’t teetering on the edge. His broken arm and the frustration from the restrictions of his recovery had him longing to pass the time with a drink.

The last thing he could do. He’d worked too hard for his sobriety. He picked up the small platter. “Keep your volunteer schedule in place. If you could just give me a copy, we can work around it here.”

Her hazel eyes sparkled with appreciation. “That’s very kind of you.” Then the spark turned to something else. Suspicion, perhaps? “Don’t think you’re getting rid of me so easily. I’ll still be working at least a forty-hour week for you.”

“I’m sure you will,” he said. She seemed as tenacious as Nugget. “There’s plenty of flex when those hours can be, since I have business to attend to as well.”

“Thank you.” She wiped her hands on the apron tied over her khaki pants. “You’re entirely too accommodating, you know. I would be a much tougher boss.”

“And since I guessed that about you, there’s no need for me to be a hardnose.” He slid the burgers from the grill onto the platter. He’d always found, as one of the middle children in the Steele clan, there were better means for getting his way than the open bullheadedness of his siblings and father. “Well, unless you put sprouts in my burger.”

“Message received, boss.” She sliced fresh sourdough rolls, then gestured to the table. “Supper is served.”

He held out her chair for her, his eyes meeting hers. The air crackled with awareness, so much for someone he’d just met, but undeniable.

Without question, the woman beside him was far more enticing than any feast, no matter how appetizing.

Cradling a premature baby girl in her arms, Tally still felt guilty for taking a half day off only twenty-four hours after beginning her new job. But Marshall had insisted he didn’t care if she shuffled tasks into the evening and that he had a business meeting with his uncle, anyway. Having her out of the way would actually be helpful.

She suspected he’d made up the last part, but she had a list of tasks to accomplish after she finished at the hospital. Dusting was the least of her concerns for getting the house ready for Christmas.

Marshall’s place could seriously use a woman’s touch. She’d acknowledged that much in the cleaning she’d finished before she left for the hospital.

Toe tapping the chair into motion, she rocked with the baby girl—Stella Rae—mindful, always, of the monitors and tubes hooked up to the little one.

Despite the gravity of the NICU ward, despite the hardships these babies and their families all faced, the hospital staff went above and beyond. It came out in the way the nurses fussed, lingered past the end of a shift, and the pool of dedicated volunteers. Everyone who was part of this community dedicated time and emotion in ways that made it slightly better for the suffering families.

Which was why she smiled sadly at the Christmas decorations in the ward. The holiday wouldn’t be the same for families struggling with a hospitalized child. But there were touches here and there, attempts to bring some normalcy, and yes, joy, to this ward.

A nurse in reindeer-themed scrubs with a Santa pin passed by Tally. A squat artificial Christmas tree twinkled at her from the corner of the sitting room, minor touches of Christmas cheer.

She had her work cut out for her on more than one front with Marshall Steele. Now that she’d started her job and met her enigmatic boss, she wondered what she’d been thinking.

How could she ever expect there to be peace over her father’s role in the plane crash? Seeing Marshall Steele made the family feel so much more, well, real. Which should have been obvious.

Her plans to help them, to let them know her father wasn’t a bad man, had seemed so attainable before, and now? Far too simplistic.

Regardless, there was no backing out at this point. She had signed on for the job, and she needed the work. If an opportunity presented itself to discuss the past, she would take it.

For now? Her best bet was to focus on the present, starting with the sweet weight in her arms as she rocked back and forth, humming “Away in a Manger” under her breath.

A door swept open, and a local social worker strode through. Felicity Hunt had become her friend over the past month. In the case of a child entering foster care, a representative was assigned to stay with the child at all times until the little one left the hospital.

Working with Felicity recently had made Tally revisit some of her own past. When she, too, had sat in a similar position, with a baby of her own. A baby she’d given up in order to ensure her son had the best life possible.

Felicity made people feel comfortable as soon as she flashed her smile. In her early forties, the woman had a natural beauty and an effortless air with her understated style. Her straight brown hair was clipped back with a simple gold clasp.

Above all, her genuine kindness and caring radiated from her.

How different Tally’s life might have been if a woman like Felicity had been the one to guide her through the lonely process of giving up her baby for adoption. Or perhaps even help her find ways she could have kept her baby while building a secure future.

The what-ifs of such a scenario gut-punched Tally. She did her best to swallow the thoughts down, focusing on the fact that she did have Felicity in her life now. And for that, she was eternally thankful.

Tally had spent a lot of hours rocking infants alongside Felicity. They’d learned a lot about each other while cradling fragile little lives. Felicity had been in the foster care system as a child, changing homes frequently at first until landing with a wonderful family, where she stayed until graduating from high school. She considered them family still.

Tally admired her strength and how she’d powered ahead in spite of all the strikes against her.

The sleek brunette adjusted the hospital gown over her red sweater dress and scooped up a tiny baby boy, cradling him in her arms and settling into a rocker beside Tally. “Hey, friend. How’s the new job working out?”

“My boss is very...accommodating.” She eyed the fragile little boy in Felicity’s arms and thought of her own son.

“That’s rather vague.” She raised a delicately arched brow. Felicity had a way of appearing cool and collected, ready for a board meeting, even with hospital wear tossed over her clothes.

“He has been completely flexible with my volunteer hours. But that could be because he really doesn’t want me around.” Could she have mistaken the interest in his eyes at the pool, and then again in the kitchen? “His family insisted on hiring me.”

“Ah, he’s an independent sort of man. That can be a good thing, you know.” Felicity had shared her history of divorce from a spoiled mama’s boy who’d lost job after job.

“True, but I found him walking into the indoor pool to fish out his dog.”

“With a cast on.” Sighing, Felicity shook her head and cradled the baby boy. “Males. I understand them better at this age, for sure.”

“The dog was so small, Marshall probably could have gotten the tiny mutt out with the cleaning net.” Tally chewed her bottom lip, remembering how frantic the precious little dog had been.

“But that would have been obvious.”

And she could see he hadn’t been willing to leave anything to chance. The pup was important to him, and she couldn’t deny that touched her. “Luckily I arrived so he didn’t end up in the deep end.”

“You both were in the pool?” A slow smile spread.

“Not my most professional entrance to a new job, but it seemed wise at the time.”

“Hmm.” Her smile twitched. “How old is your boss?”

Tally stayed silent for a moment, unwilling to rise to the bait. Workplace romances? Nope. Especially not with this man. “Let’s talk about your love life.”

Felicity winced, tapping the rocking chair back into motion. “Point taken.”

“Exactly. At any rate, my time’s up here today. I need to get back and inventory the Christmas decorations to calculate how many hours to allot for setup.”

“I wish some of my coworkers had your organizational skills,” Felicity said, her lips thinning with exasperation.

The door opened with a clutch of doctors and medical students entering to conduct rounds, cutting off further conversation for now. Tally finished her volunteer shift, kissing the sweet Stella Rae goodbye before bundling up to head out into the December cold. She walked through the hospital, past the entries for a wreath-decorating contest, each one created by a different department.

What would her life have been like if she’d been able to train for a career field like Felicity’s? Regrets were a luxury and waste of time. Holding her coat tighter around her in the chilly garage, Tally found her sedan and settled behind the wheel. She fished her keys from her purse, a mermaid charm dangling from the ring, a fairy-tale token her mother had given her as a child.

Three unsuccessful cranks of the engine later, she rested her head on the wheel. She’d prayed her old car would make it through another year. A repair would deplete what she’d managed to save so far.

And now, on her second day in her new job, she would be late returning. So much for impressing her new boss. She thumped the dash with her hands, tears close to the surface, as they sometimes were when emotions got the best of her after time with the babies.

A tap on the window pulled her from her self-pity. She looked up, surprised to find Felicity outside her car. Tally rolled down the window. “Yes?”

“Need a ride?”

A wave of relief swept through her. “If you don’t mind terribly. It’s forty-five minutes away, and that’s if the weather and roads cooperate.”

“I don’t mind at all. It’s a joy to do something for you for a change. I owe you for all those cups of coffee you’ve brought to help me through a long day.” She nodded. “I’m parked over here.”

Grateful beyond words, Tally gathered her purse and locked her car. She climbed into the passenger seat of Felicity’s SUV, the heater blasting a welcome warmth.

“Thanks, Felicity. I really would rather not have to bother my new boss if I can avoid it.”

Felicity’s brows shot up. Tally could see questions dancing in those deep brown eyes. They’d shared a lot during countless hours rocking babies. But today, Tally had held back in discussing her boss, and she could see Felicity had picked up on that.

Keeping her friend’s curiosity at bay had been tough enough in the hospital. It would be downright impossible to keep her attraction to her boss a secret from Felicity once he was right there in front of her in all his charismatic glory.

Three

Parked on the sofa in front of the fireplace, Marshall glanced at the window to check for Tally’s sedan—for what seemed like the tenth time. What was keeping her?

He should have been able to lose himself in work today with his uncle. Conrad had been accommodating in coming out to the ranch so Marshall didn’t have to deal with the seat belt around his broken arm.

Flames crackled in the river-stone fireplace, a blaze he’d started in anticipation of Tally’s return. Where was she? Concern picked away at him even as he tried to lose himself in work.

The day had already begun to wane, the antlered chandelier providing a dusky yellow light as he and Uncle Conrad continued talking through options for the company’s newly formed charitable foundation. He’d signed on to the board, offering his accounting skills. He’d always been all about the quiet of crunching numbers, riding, hiking, the logic of counting steps and weighing odds.

Leaning back into the burgundy sofa, he rubbed his eyes. For the past several hours, he’d been staring at figures and documents on his tablet. Relentless strategizing, feeling the weight of the company’s new image on his shoulders.

Of course, not all his thoughts lingered on the spreadsheets. Somehow even when Tally wasn’t here, she managed to permeate the space with her personality. Even now, he found himself looking around his living room, his gaze sweeping up to the open-tiered second level—a reading nook complete with panoramic views, his place to unwind with a good book.

Had it really been as dusty in places as Tally suggested? The thought of his new, fiery employee also served as a distraction he could ill afford, especially now with his sobriety tougher to hold on to because of increased stress in his life.

Tapping the phone on his leg, he glanced at the security feed, since looking out his front window a dozen times now wasn’t gaining him any traction. Still no sign of her.

He held back a sigh that would have caught his uncle’s attention. To many, Conrad seemed like a happy-go-lucky sort, always rolling out the charm. But he was more than that. He was the kind of person always there in a time of need. He’d been more than an uncle. He’d been a second father to the Steele children.

Especially after the plane crash.

The family had been stunned to its foundation by the accident that claimed the lives of Marshall’s mother—Mary—and his sister Breanna. He, his father and his remaining siblings had retreated into a world of grief. Uncle Conrad, their father’s brother, hadn’t been a part of building the Steele oil business. He was fifteen years younger than Jack, and had been brought into the company after finishing grad school with an engineering degree. He’d been a part of the North Dakota expansion. The Steeles had started in Alaska and moved toward the Dakotas, and the Mikkelsons had grown in the reverse direction, each trying to push out the other. Looking back, Marshall was struck by the fact that his role in the family and in the business couldn’t have been as easy as Conrad made it look. Perhaps they’d taken advantage of the fact he was a bachelor.

Turning the screen off, Uncle Conrad gestured to the living room, reading glasses spinning loosely in his hand. “I don’t know where they found this new housekeeper for you, but I can already see a difference.”

“And that’s just from minimal time working before she went to the hospital to volunteer. She’s a spitfire full of energy, that’s for sure.” He looked sidelong at his uncle, face tight as he remembered the way she’d flung herself into the pool to save his dog. From across the room by the floor lamp, Nugget stretched lazily, then moved to settle beneath Marshall’s feet, head resting on his paws.

“Spitfire, huh?” He scratched his chin. “I’m sure she’ll be a great help preparing for Christmas and the charity shindig.”

Marshall grunted in response, his mind still filling with images of Tally soaking wet, every curve outlined and calling to his hands.

“Yeah, I’m on the fence about this whole bachelor auction.”

“A bachelor auction?” He pulled his thoughts away from those tempting memories of Tally in the pool, memories that must be messing with him. He couldn’t have heard his uncle right. “Please say you’re kidding about them planning to parade us around on a stage.”

“Wish I could accommodate you, but I’m afraid not. The publicity’s already in the works.”

“And you’re participating as well?” He hadn’t really given a thought to his uncle’s single status. But Conrad was fifteen years younger than his brother.

He shrugged. “The money goes to charity.”

Marshall’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll make a big fat donation instead.”

“You’re welcome to donate whatever you wish. But just so we’re clear, if I’m hauling my old self on that stage, so are you.” He set the tablet on a side table, careful not to move the bear statue.

“You’re far from old.”

His uncle dated widely, but commitment hadn’t worked out well for him. One engagement had been broken off just shy of the altar. And Conrad’s brief marriage had ended not long after his wedding on a glacier.

“Well, thanks for the sweet talk, nephew, but you’re not going to distract me. You’re expected to participate.”

Marshall rolled his eyes, though he still hadn’t given up on trying to get out of the bachelor auction. Tapping his phone screen again, he noticed a car coming up the driveway. Except it wasn’t Tally’s car.

On the screen, he watched as the passenger-side door opened. Red hair whipped in the wind. So it was her.

A stab of jealousy and disappointment flashed through him. He hadn’t considered that she might already have a man in her life. And that thought worried the hell out of him, because it shouldn’t matter. He shouldn’t be thinking of her that way.

Then he realized he was thinking with his libido rather than his brain. Not cool. Something must have gone wrong for her to have gotten a ride with someone else. The weather led to too many traffic accidents.

Concern sent him to his feet as the front door opened.

Nugget lifted his head from his paws.

Tally took his breath away with her face pink from the cold. He lost track of how long he stared at her—and she at him—until his uncle cleared his throat and reached for the shopping bag of cleaning supplies she carried. Marshall then noticed the woman standing beside Tally. A lovely brunette, someone who might have caught his attention on another day. But right now, he only had eyes for a certain redheaded spitfire.

“My car died. I caught a ride with a friend.” She gestured to the brunette holding another bag of cleaning supplies. “This is Felicity Hunt. She’s a social worker who was up at the hospital for a case.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Hunt.” He crossed the room to take Tally’s parka. The heat of her body clung to the well-worn jacket. Her crocheted mittens hung half out of the pocket. “You could have called me. You would have rescued me from plans of a bachelor auction at the Christmas fund-raiser.”

“Bachelor auction?” Felicity echoed.

Conrad chuckled under his breath.

Tally tipped her head to the side, then said, “I handled getting home, but thank you for the offer.”

Marshall’s broken arm be damned, he needed to do something for her. “I’ll send a tow truck and have my mechanic look at it.”

Tally winced. “I don’t want to take advantage. You can deduct it from my paycheck.”

Marshall appreciated her independence, but the repair was a drop in the bucket to him. “We can discuss it later.”

Conrad stopped alongside him. “Ms. Hunt, could we offer you supper to thank you for your trouble?”

“I’m fine, thanks. My workday started early, so I should head home.”

Marshall nodded to the tall brunette. “That was kind of you to go out of your way.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “It’s not that far, but I should be going.” Felicity turned to Tally. “I’ll see you next week. Today was so busy we didn’t get to chat much, and it seems we have, um, lots to talk about.” Grinning, she jabbed her hands into her coat pockets.

Conrad grabbed his coat from the nearby elk antler coat rack, yanking on his overcoat. “I’ll see you to your car.”

Marshall looked at his uncle in surprise. Interesting.

Tally picked up both bags of cleaning supplies, bright red hair sliding forward over half of her delicate face. Backing toward the door, she took a deep breath. “I’ll get to work now.”

He usually enjoyed the solitude of his life. But he was restless and couldn’t work that off with a ride. Ah, hell, who was he fooling? He’d been waiting for her to get back all afternoon.

“You’ve been volunteering since lunch. I thought you could use a break. I pulled a meal from the freezer and placed it in the oven.”

She turned toward him, her eyebrows knit with...confusion? She assessed him a moment before speaking. “That’s thoughtful. But I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.” Frustration made him snap. Then he forced himself to relax, half grinning. “Although if you want to discuss giving me a bed bath, I’m open to the topic.”

She lifted one eyebrow, crossing her arms under her full breasts. “That’s most definitely not in my job description.”

He scrubbed his jaw with his hand, awareness searing his veins. “You’re right, and I was out of line.”

“You’re forgiven. And I’ll gladly take you up on the supper.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“I want you to know I’ll be washing an extra load of laundry to earn my keep.”

“You’re stubborn and prideful.”

“I’m doing my job. And from what I was hearing your uncle say earlier, there will be a significant amount of company coming in for the holiday event. That means you do need me to get the house ready.”

“Let’s deal with supper first.”

Having her here, living under his roof, was a major temptation when he was already on edge with wanting her. And even for a man who’d spent years of sobriety learning to resist enticement, he was feeling decidedly weak when it came to this woman.

Felicity Hunt had learned independence early on, first as the youngest child of a neglectful set of parents, then in the foster care system bounced from house to house. But she’d left all that pain behind when she’d accepted a job in Alaska fifteen years ago.

Still, even after all these years in the state called “The Last Frontier,” she found herself parking in all the wrong places for getting stuck in the snow. Like now.

Her Texas roots were tough to shake in so many ways.

Snow settled in the crooks of Marshall’s ranch mansion, coating the peaks of the roof in a thick blanket. In the glow of fading sunlight, the snow looked a bit like sand stretching on a beach. Temporarily, she felt transported to a lifetime ago. Far away from the rugged architectural aesthetics of exposed stone and wood. To Texas, a land of sunshine and buildings bearing Spanish influences.

A state where she never had to worry about her car getting stuck in an uneven patch of ice.

Smiling at Conrad Steele, she made a quick dash into her SUV, dodging the thick flakes of snow beginning to fall from the sky.

Turning the key over in the ignition, her vehicle roared to life. Buckled in, she laid her foot on the pedal. Prayed the car would overcome the ice.

No such luck. The car didn’t so much as move.

Her cheeks warmed with a flush. Conrad Steele, who had been leaning against a post, his Stetson tipped down over his face, covering his salt-and-pepper hair, began moving toward her. Slow, determined steps.

Honestly, getting stuck in snow in such a short amount of time felt like a weird special talent. Though, as she looked at Conrad Steele’s square jaw and those bright blue eyes, she wished this particular talent had manifested at literally any other moment. After her messy divorce, she was done with emotional entanglements. Her job was everything to her now.

He knocked on her window, an easy smile on his lips. “Do you need some help there?”

“I’ve been driving in snow for fifteen years. Thanks, though.”

He nodded, taking a step back. But just one, she noted. He folded his arms, a movement that seemed to accentuate his broad shoulders.

Felicity willed her car to move forward. What was it that they said about the power of thought? If you wanted something bad enough, it would happen. Apparently, her car hadn’t gotten the memo.

Rolling down her window, she locked eyes with Conrad. “Fine. Yes, I would appreciate a nudge.”

His blue eyes lit with a roguish smile. “If you’ll give me your number.”

She stifled the urge to laugh, which would just encourage him. “Aren’t you supposed to keep yourself available for some bachelor auction?”

“You’re not making this easy.”

“Somehow I think you’re a man who’s not interested in easy.” She’d meant it as a simple statement of fact, and yet innuendo hovered between them as tangible as their foggy breaths. Her background in psychology made her all too aware of the power of Freudian slips. “Now can we please nudge my vehicle free?”

He laughed, a sexy, low rumble.

God, he was tempting. From his roguish smile to those broad shoulders. His breath from his laugh fogged the air between them, luring her closer. And for a moment, she considered testing the attraction.

For a moment only.

This man had the look and confidence of a player. And she wasn’t one for games. She’d worked hard to build her life here, and she refused to let anyone unsettle that. She loved her job and hoped an opportunity would open soon for her to shuffle from the foster care system to a full-time position at the hospital.

After her divorce, she’d been determined to commit herself to her work, certain her ability to build long-term relationships had been permanently derailed due to her dysfunctional upbringing.

Her parents had struggled to make ends meet—tough to do when spending all their money on drugs and alcohol. Twice she’d gone into the foster care system when teachers had expressed concerns, only to be returned to the home where she slept under her bed.

However, when her father left her in the hot car to bet on dog races, the cops had found her, and that time, she hadn’t been returned to her parents. The stress of bouncing around foster homes hadn’t been easy, and in a strange, inexplicable way, she’d missed her dysfunctional family. But she’d also appreciated the regular meals, clean clothes, and lack of drug paraphernalia mixed in with her toys. Her messed-up childhood had made her too vulnerable, and she’d married a man who cared as little for her as her parents had. She hadn’t even suspected his drug use until it was too late.

She’d learned well not to trust and wouldn’t start now.

Bracing her shoulders and her resolve, she rested her hands on the steering wheel. “Thank you for the help. I should stop chitchatting and get on the road.”

She made fast work of rolling up the window before gripping the steering wheel, ready—needing—to leave. Still, she couldn’t keep her eyes off the rearview mirror to watch Conrad Steele climb in his truck. He drove forward slowly, his bumper nudging hers ever so gently.

Still, her stomach lurched far more than her vehicle for a man she’d only just met.

Loading the dishwasher, Tally couldn’t ignore how much she’d enjoyed the simple dinner with Marshall.

With my boss, she corrected herself.

None of her previous jobs had included room and board. And more often than not, she worked through lunch to finish early. So she didn’t share meals with others often, and Marshall was a surprisingly good conversationalist for someone reputed to be reticent. Perhaps people mistook his good listening skills for something more aloof.

She closed the dishwasher and couldn’t help but notice how the stainless steel door reflected him working at the kitchen table. He had spreadsheets laid out and his tablet open, his broad hands sifting through.

Why did he insist on working at the kitchen table? He had an office. She’d heard all about what a solitary man he was. Jeannie Steele had warned her that she might need to coax him out of his “cave” to eat.

Tally slid a casserole dish into the dishwasher and shut the door on the half-full load. This man defied understanding on a number of levels.

The silence between them crackled like the sparks popping in the fireplace, drawing her toward the heat.

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Less comfortable silence between them might be a better thing. “What are you working on?”

“Ledgers.”

“Ah, the Steele wealth.” She winced the second she said it. Talking about money was, well, rude. Not to mention out of line since he was her employer.

“It’s actually for the riding school I run. You’re right in thinking I don’t need the cash, but I enjoy it.”

“A school for rodeo wannabes.” She started the dishwasher. “Interesting.”

“Actually, most of my clients are children. There are a few adults as well who didn’t grow up in the saddle and want to learn.”

He grew more intriguing by the moment, showing he was more than a sexy man with broad shoulders and a great butt.

“For an injured guy, you sure stay busy. Did you muck out some stalls one-handed, too?”

Keeping things light seemed the way to go with so much chemistry in the air. The way goose bumps raised on her arms every time he walked past. How the husky timbre of his voice made her heart beat faster. Her instincts said he felt the attraction, too, but there was a world of difference between thinking he reciprocated and openly acknowledging as much.

Leaving things unsaid maintained a wall she needed to continue her job. A job that offered financial security and, hopefully, some form of peace over her father’s suicide.

He slid his papers together as snow piled up outside the window at a steady clip, moonlight reflecting off the pristine white. “And there’s more to keeping this place going than riding horses.”

“I do realize that.” She spritzed the farm sink with cleaner, then sprayed water along the sides. “I didn’t mean to come off flippant. I’m sure you miss it, riding horses, the school and the rodeo circuit, too, perhaps.”

“Hmm.” He waved dismissively, sliding the spreadsheets into a binder, then powering down his tablet. “Sure I do. It’s my passion.”

That last word launched tingles through her, her breasts tight and sensitive in her bra. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry you’re stuck in a sling.”

He waved aside her sympathy. “Speaking of things we’re passionate about... Tell me why volunteering at the hospital is so important to you that you’ll use up your time off rather than relaxing like most other people would.”

That was the last thing she wanted to talk about. No one in her life knew of the baby she’d given up for adoption. There hadn’t been anyone in her life to share the grief with when it happened. And now? More than ever she wanted to move on. It was better to depend solely on herself.

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