“It’ll be difficult to remain strictly professional if I have a drink with you.”
“I hope not. And thank you for the compliment.” He received another smile that revealed her dimple.
“C’mon. Sit with me and have a drink. If you get uncomfortable, we’ll come in and have dinner. Deal?”
“Sure, Ryan.” Even saying his name was as tangible as physical contact and stirred desire. He was having a volatile reaction to her and he was digging himself in deeper every second by letting her stay, by asking her to have a drink with him.
But she was damned difficult to resist.
* * *
Her Texan To Tame is part of the Lone Star Legacy series: These Texas billionaires are about to get richer … in more ways than one.
Her Texan to Tame
Sara Orwig
SARA ORWIG lives in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere, from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara has written historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.
With thanks to Stacy Boyd and Maureen Walters, who have been so important in my life.
Always, with love to David and my family.
Contents
One
“Jeb, I’ll come out and look at this tractor you want to fix, but it’ll have to be later today. I have interviews this morning for a cook. In fact, the first applicant ought to be coming up the road any minute now.”
Beneath a broad-brimmed black Stetson, Ryan Delaney’s brown eyes gazed into the distance. Jamming his hands into his pockets, he listened for the sound of an approaching vehicle while he stood on the wraparound porch of his West Texas ranch house.
“It’s kinda early for a city woman to get out here for an interview,” Jeb said.
“This one wanted an early interview. She’s driving in from Dallas, so she’s been on the road the past three or so hours.”
“Gets up early—good sign. What about her husband? What job is he interested in?”
“There is no husband.”
Jeb’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you had a policy with that agency that you only hire couples to work in the house.”
Jeb was right, but somehow Martin Clayburne at the agency had talked him into this interview, promising he wouldn’t regret it. Ryan figured it’d be a quick one. “I told Martin not to send a young single woman out here. I’m just interviewing her long enough to show her the door. No way will I hire her.”
“Well, come look at the tractor when you can. When you see the problem, you’ll agree fixing it is better than buying a new one,” Jeb said.
“I’ll look, but you find out what fixing it will cost. It might be more economical to get a new one.” Ryan heard an engine and turned to see a spiral of dust on the road moving toward the house. He turned back to talk to his foreman, whose wide-brimmed tan hat was pushed back on his head, revealing neatly combed graying brown hair. “Another thing—when will the two new mares be delivered?” Ryan asked.
“I’m picking them up tomorrow afternoon.”
“Stop by the house and I’ll look at them,” Ryan said, glancing at the corral and breathing a deep sigh of satisfaction. He enjoyed ranch work more than his work at the drilling/energy company he owned. Though he wished he could be here all the time, he at least spent one week out of each month here. He wanted to be a part of everything that went on at the RD Ranch. This was the life he loved.
“They’re fine horses. You’ll like them.” Jeb pushed his hat farther back on his head and gazed beyond Ryan.
“My, oh, my. Would you look at that,” Jeb said in a voice filled with awe.
Ryan turned as a car sped up the drive. Staring in surprise, he took in a shiny fire-engine-red convertible sports car sweeping around a curve and parking a hundred yards from the porch. A blonde cut the engine and picked up her purse.
“Holy Holstein,” Jeb said. “Ry, I’m willing to bet my paycheck she can’t cook toast. Not that it will matter,” the foreman added.
“I’m not taking you up on that bet,” Ryan answered, his gaze never leaving the red car and its driver. The door swung open and she emerged from the car. She wore a light blue summer suit with a skirt short enough to reveal long shapely legs. The matching blouse had a low-cut V-neckline.
“Make you another bet—you’ll hire her whether she can cook or not.”
“You’d lose that one,” Ryan replied.
“Hire her anyway. I’ll teach her to cook.”
Ryan couldn’t stop looking at the woman, but he smiled at Jeb’s offer. “I’ll keep that in mind. She would pretty the place up, though. I’d be shocked if she’s ever had a job cooking before. She’s movie-star or model material, not a cook buried on a West Texas ranch.”
“I’ll
