Duty Or Desire. Brenda Jackson
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She stared at him for a moment and then cocked a brow. “Although I don’t consider myself one of those real proper Southern belles, I was raised to adhere to conservative protocols. Is there something about your reputation that I need to be concerned with, Sheriff?”
Her question threw him. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re evidently worried about my reputation and what people will think with me living in your house.”
Is that what she honestly thought? “I assure you there’s nothing questionable about my character.”
“And I assure you there’s nothing questionable about mine. And as far as anyone suspecting something going on between us while we’re living together, that is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“And why is that?”
She rolled her eyes. “First of all, you’re not my type. Second, you’re older than anyone I normally would date.”
Well, damn. She’d pretty much put him in his place by telling him she was not in the least attracted to him. There was only one thing he could say. “I’m glad because you’re not my type either, and you’re younger than the women I’d typically date.”
“Great! Then we don’t have anything to worry about. I honestly don’t care what people might say or think about me living with you. However, if you’re concerned about what they might say, then I suggest you find yourself another nanny.”
Myra meant what she’d said, although she could understand why someone would think she could fall for the sheriff. After all, he was a very handsome man. Instead of being dressed like a lawman, today he was wearing jeans and a Western shirt. When she’d looked out the peephole and seen him earlier, standing on her doorstep, tall, broad shouldered, ruggedly built with a Stetson on his head, she’d drawn in a deep breath to slow her pulse. He was her idea of a Denver cowboy ready to go off and tame a bunch of wild broncos.
But the bottom line, handsome or not, she could not and would not be attracted to him. She could appreciate a man’s good looks without losing her mind over him; especially an older, good-looking man, thanks to her bad experience with Rick.
But she couldn’t deny the sensations that had gone off in her stomach when Pete had described her as young, single and beautiful. Did he really think she was beautiful? And why did the idea of him thinking such a thing give her a warm feeling? She couldn’t let his words, or her reaction to them, go to her head.
Her time in Denver was limited and like she’d told him, she would be returning to Charleston in a couple of months. But she’d stay there just long enough to boot Baron out of the company and return Wallace to his rightful place as head of Hollister Enterprises. Then she intended to take a monthlong vacation in Paris. She would definitely deserve it.
“I see I’ve offended you again.”
She glanced over at him and her stomach contracted. Why did he have to look regretful and sexy at the same time? “Yes, you have. I’m beginning to think you enjoy doing that.”
“I assure you I don’t. I just didn’t want you caught off guard. You’re new here and I know this town.”
She nodded. “And I guess that means you have a reputation to uphold, and I understand that. Well, guess what? So do I. But obviously you think your reputation means a lot more than mine.”
“I never said that.”
No, he hadn’t insinuated such a thing, but she also hadn’t given much thought to them sleeping under the same roof until he’d made such a big deal out of it. “Like I said. If you’re worried about what people think, then I’m not—”
“I’m not worried.” He stood and she watched how he easily slid out of the chair to stand up to his six-three height. “You will work out fine if you still want the job.”
He then offered her an amount that was a lot more than what she had figured on earning. That would certainly help keep her tucked away from Baron until she was ready to return home. “I accept your offer, Sheriff. Will I be expected to do laundry and cook, as well?”
He lifted a brow. “Can you cook?”
She lifted her chin. “I can hold my own. I can’t cook as well as Miss Bonnie, but considering how young I am, Sheriff, I might surprise you.”
“You’re not going to let me forget about the big deal I made with your age, are you?”
“No time soon,” she said, unable to hide her smile.
She looked down at the little girl she held in her arms, deliberating over placing her concentration on Ciara before she looked back at him. “But that’s your hang-up, Sheriff. I’m sure you will get over it. I’m looking forward to taking care of Ciara until Miss Bonnie returns.”
“I’m glad.”
He smiled for the first time since she’d met him. All she should have seen was a friendly smile, but when his lips had curved, she was struck with a spike of feminine awareness. Why had his smile caused that reaction in her?
She didn’t know. The best thing to do was to get rid of him to ponder the reason in private. She stood after putting on Ciara’s coat, hat and mittens. “So, I guess that’s it. I will be reporting to your place on Friday. That will give Miss Bonnie a chance to help me get acclimated to Ciara’s schedule and my duties while she’s gone.”
“Do you need help moving out of here?” he asked, glancing around. She watched him while every hormone in her body seemed to sizzle. And all because he’d smiled?
“No, I don’t need any help. Most things here belong to the owner, who is a college friend of mine. I just need to pack my clothes.”
“Okay.” The sheriff reached for Ciara and seemed disappointed when his niece’s head dropped back against Myra’s chest, as if she wasn’t ready for Myra to relinquish her.
He tried again. “Come on, Ciara. We need to leave before the weather gets any worse.”
When his words wouldn’t budge his niece, he then said, “We’ll have cookies to eat when we get there.”
Evidently mentioning cookies had been the magic word since Ciara extended her arms out for him. The sheriff threw his head back and laughed while cradling Ciara close.
Myra’s heart skipped, and she knew why. Baron had twin girls and he’d never shown them that much compassion. Yet he hadn’t thought twice about threatening to take custody of them just to hurt Cleo.
“Looks like you know how to handle her, Sheriff Higgins.”
He chuckled. “I do my best. And from here on out I prefer for you to call me Pete.”
She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat caused by the deep, husky sound of his voice. “And please call me Myra. I’ll see you to the door.”