she asked. “You said I’m the first one who’s ever done it.” Heat rushed into her face, and she wished she could call the words back.
She saw humor spark in those unusual caramel-colored eyes of his. “I only had to be kicked in the head by a horse once to know I didn’t like it.”
Whatever that meant, she thought, disgruntled as he casually unbuttoned the first three buttons of her blouse and bathed her throat and chest. His touch may have been disinterested, but her reaction wasn’t. Her heart kicked into quick time, and she was sure he could see it pounding in her throat, feel it as he swabbed the area above the swell of her breasts—which was instantly bathed in a rush of heat. She was surprised steam didn’t rise from her skin.
“Th-thank you,” she stammered, rounding her shoulders to discourage his touch, though to her shame, her treacherous body liked it too much. “I feel better now.”
Luke’s answer was a nod of acknowledgment as he stood. He watched her shaky fingers do up her buttons, then he crossed the room, tossed the damp handkerchief on a small wooden table, pulled a chair out and carried it across to her. Spinning it so the back faced her, he straddled it and placed his arms along the top. His gaze swept her again, sending a tingle of awareness through her.
Shannon’s eyes skittered away from his. She wished from the depth of her soul that she could get up and get out of here, but whenever she tried to lift her head, the world tilted on its axis. She didn’t like being at a disadvantage, and with Luke Farraday, it seemed even worse than it would have been with anyone else.
After a minute, he asked, “Are you pregnant?”
Her startled gaze flew to meet his. His eyes met hers with a cynical expression. “Certainly not,” she sputtered. “I’m not even married!”
That brought a rusty laugh from him. It sounded as if he hadn’t used it in a while. “Miss Kelleher, I think we both know marriage isn’t required to produce a baby.”
“I’m not pregnant,” she said quietly but firmly. “I’ve been sick with an ear infection. It’s better, but...”
“But you should have stayed home in bed until you were well. Why didn’t you?”
She was stunned that he seemed to be angry with her. After all, no one had forced him to help her. He could have left her crumpled on the ground to recover on her own. “I had to get back to work. My boss...” She realized that her boss had wanted her to come to work today in order to deal with the man in front of her. Good old Wiley, she thought. His philosophy was, Why deal with a problem if you can get someone else do it?
She wasn’t going to tell Luke that. She’d already blown her professional image. No point in telling him of her problems with Wiley—no matter how numerous they were.
“Your boss insisted you come to work? Why didn’t you stand up to him?” Luke asked, irritation simmering in his voice. “You don’t have any trouble standing up to me.”
“You’re not in charge of my biannual performance review,” she answered ruefully. “Or my salary raises.”
“Maybe you should talk to the person in charge of his,” Luke suggested.
“I might if his boss wasn’t also his mother’s brother.”
“Ah.” Luke tilted his head back. “Nepotism lives.”
“I’m afraid so,” Shannon agreed weakly. She wished she hadn’t said that, but she couldn’t call it back. She seemed to be making one stumbling, bumbling mistake after another today. Luke was right. She should have stayed home until she was well. She was here now, so she was determined to struggle through.
“Mr. Farraday,” she said, trying to sound briskly competent in spite of the weakness in her voice. “Thank you for helping me.” She sat up shakily and swung her feet to the floor. To her intense relief, the world remained firm and didn’t do one of those nauseating spins she’d been experiencing all day. She was pleased that she felt only a slight tremor in her hand when she smoothed her hair from her face. She took a steadying breath and glanced at him. “Now, why don’t we return to our discussion about your rangeland?”
“Because the discussion is closed,” he answered, standing and returning the chair to its place. He stood with his hands resting on his hips while his eyes narrowly assessed the color in her cheeks. “If you’re feeling better, let’s get you back to your truck. It’s time for you to go.”
Shannon gaped at him. “Really, Mr. Farraday, you can’t just refuse our help—”
“Of course I can. Haven’t you heard? It’s a free country. This is my place, and I’m my own boss.” In spite of his dismissive words, he hovered over her as she stood shakily, then took her arm and helped her to the door, gathering his canteen and handkerchief along the way.
She wanted to argue, but she didn’t have the strength. He led her to the gelding he’d ridden to the stream. “We’ll ride double on Dusty,” he said. “I don’t want you falling off of Jezebel.”
Shannon laughed. “That gentle animal’s name is Jezebel?”
He shrugged, and again she saw that spark of humor. “How was I to know when she was a filly that she’d turn out to be such a lady?”
Shannon grabbed the pommel and placed her left foot in the stirrup as she looked over her shoulder at him. “You sound surprised.”
He stood behind her and placed his hands at her waist. “Not surprised. Wary.” With what seemed like the smallest flexing of his muscles, he boosted her into the saddle. “I’ve learned that wariness pays when dealing with the female of any species,” he said, turning to snag Jezebel’s reins and scooping Shannon’s hat from the ground.
Dazed, Shannon replaced her hat while she settled into the saddle. She kept her feet out of the stirrups so that Luke could mount. She wasn’t prepared for her reaction when he did. Awareness moved along her nerves like an incoming tide, first along the backs of her legs where they touched his, then her back, and finally up her spine, across her shoulders and down her arms as he reached forward, tied Jezebel’s reins to the pommel, then gathered those of his own horse. He clucked to Dusty and turned toward the ranch buildings.
Shannon, accustomed to handling her own mount, didn’t know quite what to do with her hands as they rode along. She refused to hold on to the pommel like a tenderfoot, so she tightened her knees against the mare’s sides to hold herself steady and settled her hands on her thighs. Glancing down, she saw that if she moved her hands back a few inches, she could touch Luke. Unexpectedly, her palms grew warm at the thought, and it made her even more light-headed than she’d been when she fainted.
She didn’t know what was wrong with her. These strange reactions couldn’t be attributed to her illness. Something about Luke Farraday was affecting her in the oddest way. Was it because he was a stranger? Most of the ranchers and farmers she dealt with were people she’d known all her life. Maybe it was because he seemed so distant and unyielding. Whatever the reason, she needed to get her mind on business.
Grimly, she straightened away from Luke. “This is a wonderful ranch you’ve bought here,” she ventured.
“Even if the grass won’t support five hundred head of cattle?” he asked in a dry tone.
His
