what she called “treasures.” Handmade quilts done by Jericho’s grandmother and decorative pillows that Daisy had strewn across the utilitarian furniture. The room had a softer feel now, with scattered rugs and splotches of color dotting the area.
“She’s nesting,” he muttered and waited for the zing of panic to shoot through him. But it didn’t come. Why?
Was he getting so used to having her around that he didn’t mind the fact that she’d taken his well-ordered male world and turned it on its head? Was he so enthralled by the nights they spent together that he no longer worried about getting too attached? If that were the case, it was time to put the brakes on.
Because no matter how much he enjoyed her, being with her, the bottom line was she didn’t belong. And she wouldn’t last. One hard winter would be enough to send the city girl screaming back down the mountain in search of sidewalks and coffee shops.
He scowled at the thought and knew that when she was gone, it wouldn’t be easy on him. He’d miss her, damn it, which was something he hadn’t counted on. Best to start preparing himself for it now, he supposed.
“Hi,” she said from right behind him. “You’re back early. I thought you said you were going up the mountain today to check the fencing on the ridgeline.”
“I did,” he said and stepped aside so she could pass. But she didn’t move away. Instead, she inched in closer to him. Close enough that he caught the ripe peach scent of the shampoo she preferred. Close enough that he felt waves of heat reaching out for him and his body responded in an instant.
He’d thought that getting Daisy into his bed would be the one sure way to get her out of his system. Hadn’t worked out that way. Rather than chasing her out of his mind, sex with Daisy had burned her into his brain. One whiff of her scent, one touch of her hand could have him hard as iron and as eager as a teenager in the backseat of a car.
Focus, he told himself. Focus on anything but her. Not as easy as it sounded. “We’ve got three lawyers showing up tomorrow. Everything ready?”
She gave him a half smile, filled with confusion at his sudden brisk tone, but said, “Yes, their rooms are ready and I’ve got their dietary requirements. I had Tim drive down the mountain to get a few groceries today, but—”
He held up one hand to stop the flow of words and asked, “Tim? I told him to check the climbing wall today, make sure it was sound after the last rain.”
“Sam did that,” she said, moving past him to plump pillows and toss them onto the couch again. “He said he didn’t mind and Tim was eager to make the trip. Something about stopping to say hello to his mom while he was in town…”
The reins of control were slipping out of his fingers and Jericho fought to get a firmer grip. “If I’d wanted Sam out slogging his way through the mud, I would have sent him.”
Daisy turned around to face him. “What are you angry about?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, tossing both hands high before letting them slap down against his thighs. “Maybe because I give orders that you change around to suit yourself?”
“Orders?”
Her voice sounded tight, but he was past caring. This was just a symptom, he told himself. Just one more sign that she was changing everything on him. She even had his men doing her bidding and forgetting all about whatever it was he’d told them to do. Well, it was time to remind her who was the boss around here.
“Yes, orders. You work for me, Daisy, not the other way around.”
“I didn’t say different, did I?”
“You didn’t have to,” he countered. “You do whatever the hell you want around here and expect the rest of us to just go along.”
“I haven’t heard any complaining,” she snapped, folding her arms over her chest in a classic position of self-defense.
“You are now.” He closed the distance between them with a few long strides. “Sam’s too old to be pushing through mud. But you didn’t think about that, did you?”
“He’s hardly in his dotage, Jericho.”
“And that’s your decision to make, is it?”
“No,” she argued, “it was Sam’s decision and he made it. You’re making a huge deal over nothing,” she said and tipped her head to one side as she stared up at him. “So what’s really bothering you? It’s not Tim going to the store. Or Sam fighting with mud. What is it, Jericho? Just say it.”
He scraped one hand across his face and blew out a frustrated breath. “I run this camp my way, understand? Stop countermanding my orders and everything will be fine.” He glanced around the room, waved one hand at the feminine touches she’d added and grumbled, “And quit trying to girlie the place up while you’re at it.”
“Girlie?”
“Pillows, rugs, blankets…” He stopped and muttered, “Hell, it’s getting to the point where I don’t know what to expect every time I come into the room.”
“Yes, well,” Daisy said softly, “pillows and crochet work are dangerous entities…”
He snapped her an irritable look. “You know what I mean. Just do your job and nothing else.”
“Uh-huh. Am I supposed to salute, too?”
“Wouldn’t hurt!”
“You are the most impossible man,” she said, shifting so that her hands were fisted on her hips. “Are you really that threatened by a few throw pillows and crocheted afghans? Do scented candles throw you into a tizzy?”
“This is still my house,” he argued, even though he was beginning to feel like a damn fool.
“Nobody said it wasn’t,” she told him. “So why don’t you tell me what’s really bugging you, Jericho? You’re not afraid of me, are you? Afraid I’m getting too close?”
The fact that that was exactly what was worrying him only irritated him further. His head snapped up and his gaze fired into hers. Gritting his teeth, he hissed in a breath and said, “Nobody gets any closer to me than I want them to be. So if you’re looking at me and seeing rainbows and picket fences, then you need to get your eyes checked.”
Rather than being put off by his gruff voice, barely restrained temper and crappy attitude, Daisy smiled at him. Her eyes lit up and she shook her head as she walked toward him. Then laying both palms flat on his chest, she went up on her toes and brushed her mouth across his.
“I see you clearly, Jericho. I always have.”
Temper drained away from him as if someone had pulled a plug. Hard to maintain anger when you were straddling a razor blade of desire and want. “I’m not the kind of man you need.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said softly with another sly smile. “You’re exactly the man I need.”
When she went into his arms, Jericho held her tightly to him, and he had to wonder if she’d be saying these things if she knew
