The Forbidden Texan. Sara Orwig

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The Forbidden Texan - Sara Orwig Mills & Boon Desire

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his legs again. “Thane took very good care of things, but he hadn’t gotten around to dealing with the house and its contents when he went into the service. I want to get out there as soon as possible and get the job done. I plan to go look at the house this week. Do you want to come along?”

      “Yes. I’d like to see what we’re talking about.”

      “Today is Wednesday. I have appointments tomorrow. Friday morning I’m going to see Thane’s parents. That’ll be tough, but I practically grew up in his house. Mr. Warner spent hours with Thane and me. He taught me how to fly-fish, how to use a knife so I wouldn’t cut off my fingers, how to rope a calf. He came to our ball games. I need to go see him.”

      “That’s fine.”

      “So how about Friday afternoon to go to Thane’s ranch? Then we can fly back to Dallas and I’ll take you to dinner that evening.” While she was not his type, he wanted to show his appreciation for her taking the job and allowing him to keep his promise to Thane. “I’ll pick you up here and we’ll fly to the ranch. We’ll look the house over and decide when we can start.”

      “If you want, I can get the cleaning crew started early because I have someone I work with often and they’re reliable. I also know a couple of painters who can get the house painted inside and outside if you’d like.”

      “I’d like that. In addition to appraising the contents, you can get the house in livable condition again. I’d rather not deal with the day-to-day restoration. I have a good contractor you can use, but feel free to use your own painters and decorators. Do as much as you can and bill me.”

      “Fine. I also have a landscape crew if we need it.”

      “That’s perfect. Let me know about anything or anyone else you need. When Thane inherited the ranch, it was actually a working ranch. Thane hired a guy to run it and get it in shape. Thane told me there’s a bunkhouse, a kitchen and a dining area for the cowboys, a cook and an office near the bunkhouse. There are cattle, but not as many as there will be. And of course, there’s the main house, which is a three-story frame house. Thane intended to come home and go through the house to decide what to do with things. When he was home before going to Afghanistan, neither he nor Vivian ever got around to it. As I understand it, the caretaker lives in a guesthouse close to the main house. I hope to keep everyone Thane hired. You oversee everything you can and put it on my bill. I’ll deal with the men, the cattle and the horses, and my contractor.”

      She nodded.

      “Emily, this is a job that neither of us wants to do, but it’s worth our while to do it. You get to become a millionaire and I get a ranch. For that we can put up with some things we hadn’t wanted to.” He looked into her big brown eyes and was struck by a question out of the blue. What would it be like to kiss her?

      The question startled him. What was it about her that made him wonder about kisses? She wasn’t his type. She was practical, business-minded. But each time he looked at her, there was that wild undercurrent of awareness that he couldn’t figure out. Each time it happened, she looked as startled as he felt, and he was certain it was not something that she wanted to have happen and not something that happened often to her. It didn’t with him—not to this extent. Especially when it wasn’t some gorgeous woman who flirted and wanted to stir up a reaction from him.

      If they were going to live in the same house, he didn’t want to have any kind of sizzling reaction to Emily.

      So why couldn’t he stop imagining that thick long blond hair, which was now tied behind her head with a yellow scarf, untied and falling over her shoulders? Or splayed against his naked chest? The minute those visions played out in his mind’s eye, he tried to think of something else. Unsuccessfully.

      When she stood, he came to his feet at once, his gaze flicking over her swiftly. “I suppose we’re through now,” she said.

      “We are for today.” He held out his hand, half doing it to be polite because they would be working closely together and living in the same house for a while. But the minute her hand touched his, he felt the same startling awareness of the contact and saw her blink and stare at him.

      “I’ll pick you up Friday afternoon,” he said after clearing his throat hoarsely. “I’ll call first.” He looked her over again. “It’s been...interesting. This is the longest I’ve ever had a polite conversation with a Kincaid.”

      She smiled slightly. “You’re long overdue then. We really don’t bite and are quite harmless.”

      “Your brothers aren’t. Maybe that was back in high school.” He followed her out of her office and down the hall to the front door. She didn’t look the type for perfume, but there was some faint enticing scent that he didn’t recognize. She was taller than most women he went out with, but still at least seven or eight inches shorter than he was. He opened the door and glanced back at her. “See you Friday.”

      “I’m still in a daze. I’m going to call Vivian. You’re certain she knows about the check?”

      “Absolutely.”

      When the door closed behind him, he let out his breath in a gush. Keep your distance. And keep your hands off. She was a Kincaid, and he expected some flak from at least one of her brothers. Some of the Kincaids and some of the Ralstons took this feud seriously and had a big dislike for the other family. Emily and he needed to move on this task and get through it. Yes, that’s what he needed to do. Get the job done and forget her.

      Dreading talking to Mr. and Mrs. Warner, Jake drove up to the familiar mansion spread over four acres of well-kept grounds with tall oaks. He’d spent hours here from the days when his mother dropped him off to play with Thane and on through high school when he and Thane would drive there after school at least three or four times a week. Thane had had a cook and there were snacks and a game room, a poolroom, an enclosed pool, a basketball court—Jake’s family had had all of those at their house, as well, but Thane had had a tennis court at his and Jake hadn’t. Sometimes a bunch of friends went with them, sometimes just Jake and Thane. Thane’s dad was friendly and had always been interested in Jake and what he was doing at school.

      Memories assailing him, Jake walked up the wide front steps to the porch with tall columns. A huge brass chandelier hung from the porch ceiling. He rang the chimes and a butler opened the door, smiling at Jake.

      “Mr. Jake, welcome home.”

      “Thank you, Clyde.”

      “Come in. Mr. and Mrs. Warner are expecting you. They’re in the great room. We’re so happy to see you.”

      “I’m glad to be here. It’s good to see you. I wish Thane could be here with me,” he said as they walked through a wide entryway where an elegant cherrywood table held a massive vase filled with white-and-purple orchids.

      “So sad. They miss him. We all do, because he was a fine man.” Clyde knocked on an open door and as they entered, he announced, “Mr. Jake is here.”

      Jake crossed the room to Celeste Warner, Thane’s mother, who looked older and frailer than when he’d left. She was short and he leaned over to hug her lightly. As tears filled her eyes, she hugged him in return.

      “I’m sorry he didn’t make it home. We did what we could. It just wasn’t enough,” Jake said with a knot in his throat. Thane should have been here with him now.

      Thane’s father,

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