didn’t ask you to,” he said tightly. “Nor do I expect it. Just give the project a chance.”
She hadn’t meant to offend him. This whole situation was just so difficult. She was walking on eggshells here, and none too lightly. “You have the maps?”
“They’re in my office.” He gestured toward the living room. “Why don’t we step in there?”
The teasing lilt was back again and she relaxed a bit. She appreciated that he was at least trying to make it easier for her. With a sigh, she moved past him, determined to put her mind to her work.
* * *
Annie sat cross-legged on the floor, a log sheet in one hand and a pencil in the other. She stared at the map spread out on the floor in front of her, her concentration intense as she cross-referenced the map to the logs.
On the floor beside her, Jared took a sip of his fifth cup of coffee as he watched her lean forward, her eyes narrowed, and study the sketched-out cross section of a trap fault. When her hair fell across her cheek, she unconsciously tucked it behind her ear with a smooth flick of her fingers.
She’d changed a lot since he’d first met her, he noted. Her blond hair had been halfway down her back before, and straight. Now it sort of curved around her oval face, accentuating her large hazel-green eyes and thick dark lashes. The style also revealed the long slender line of her neck. In a dim recess of his mind, he had an image of his lips pressed against that soft sensitive spot just below her ear. He cursed himself and tore his gaze away, determined to put the morning’s incident between them out of his thoughts.
The sound of her scribbling in the notepad at her knee brought his attention back to the present. It was almost as if she’d forgotten he was there. For the past three hours, she’d pored over the map that Jonathan had worked up—a “play,” it was called—and occasionally she’d ask a question, but there’d been virtually no conversation between them. It was starting to grate on his nerves, not knowing what was going on in her head.
He almost laughed at that. As if he’d ever known what went on in any female’s head.
He remembered the day Jonathan had brought her home. She’d looked like a typical college student. A long-legged long-haired blonde who would have turned any man’s head.
But now there was something more, something provocative, even seductive, in the way she spoke and moved. It made no difference she was wearing work boots and jeans and a loose-fitting white blouse. The femininity that radiated from her packed a punch with definite knockout power.
And when she began to nibble on the eraser of her pencil, Jared’s mouth went as dry as chalk. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget the feel of those soft lips under his own. Or the feel of her body pressed tightly against his.
“Jared,” she said suddenly, and he nearly jumped at the sound of his name, “did you have a seismic crew out here three years ago?”
He nodded. “I’ve got the file at the site.”
As she stared at the log sheet in her hand, then the map, she frowned slightly. Jared wasn’t at all sure he cared for the expression. He’d seen it too many times on bank officers and backers not to recognize it. It meant doubt. With a capital D.
He heard her stomach rumble then and realized that he hadn’t offered her anything to eat. Her cheeks flushed as she pressed a hand to her stomach.
He really knew how to rack up points, Jared thought sourly. First he attacked the woman, then he starved her.
“I’ll throw some lunch together,” he said, standing.
“I am a little hungry,” she admitted, tucking the pencil behind her ear and stretching. “I left Midland this morning about seven and didn’t take the time to pull off at a diner for breakfast.”
“Sandwiches—” He stopped abruptly at the sight of Annie’s full breasts pressing tightly against her blouse as she arched her back and groaned. He quickly recovered, though he had to swallow first in order to finish speaking. “—are about the extent of my culinary abilities.”
“Really?” She gave him a curious look. “I would have thought that—”
She caught herself, but he knew what she’d been about to say. Jonathan had practically been a gourmet cook. Jared felt a strange surge of anger and nearly blurted out that he wasn’t Jonathan, but he held his words in check.
“I manage to get by on canned soup and frozen dinners,” he said, moving into the kitchen. “Jessica takes pity on me once in a while and cooks something for me. Even Savannah insists I come over for dinner at least once a week.”
He opened the refrigerator and loaded his arms with sandwich makings, then shut the door and plopped everything down on the counter. “I must look like I’m wasting away, the way they fuss over me.”
Hardly, Annie thought, uncrossing her legs and standing. In fact, she doubted she’d ever seen a healthier more virile man than Jared.
And she certainly had seen Jared.
For the most part, she’d managed not to think about what had happened between them this morning. There’d been momentary lapses, such as when he’d spoken and the rough grain of his voice had skimmed over her skin like a current of low-voltage electricity. Or the time he’d brushed her knee with his, and her heart had shifted into double time. The idea of women fussing over Jared was not a difficult concept to grasp.
She sat on a bar stool opposite him at the counter, watching him slice a tomato with a sharp knife. His hands fascinated her. They were large, with long work-worn fingers and callused palms. She’d experienced their rough texture on her skin that morning and knew firsthand the sensuality they contained.
She knew the pleasure they contained, as well.
“Lettuce?” he asked.
“Please.” Disturbed by her thoughts, she looked quickly away, pretending interest in a small clay paperweight shaped like an oil well.
What was happening here? she asked herself, lifting the paperweight so she’d have something to occupy her hands. She couldn’t be attracted to Jared. He was Jonathan’s brother.
Since Jonathan, she hadn’t found anyone who had interested her enough to date more than casually. Most of the men she met in the field were arrogant die-hard chauvinists whose main hobby was seeing how quickly they could get a woman into the sack.
She couldn’t help the smile that crept over her lips. Jared had probably beat the world record this morning in that masculine sport.
“Emma made it for me.”
“What?” She glanced up sharply.
“The paperweight.” He gestured to the crude sculpture in her hands. “Emma made it.”
“Emma?” Annie turned it over and noticed the inscription on the bottom: To Jared. E.R.S. “Oh, yes. Your half sister. You want to tell me about her?”
He handed Annie a sandwich. “We found out about her at the reading of J.T.’s will. Turns out that my father had an affair
