Page 12 of In Bed with the Rancher

He shook his head. “I’m okay.”

He was more than okay. He reached out to open the door for her and she smiled at him.

“Thanks,” she said, glancing into his brown eyes and feeling as if they had made physical contact. And again, against every one of her warnings to herself, she was instantly conscious of him close by her side, aware it would be just the two of them at her house tonight and maybe several days and nights. The mere thought caused her insides to flutter.

* * *

As she passed so close to him, he caught a faint whiff of some enticing perfume. His pulse jumped and he longed to hold her in his arms again. He was very aware of her close by his side as they rushed to the garage without having to get out in the rain and then he followed her into an adjoining workshop.

“There are the sheets of plywood we can put over the windows so it doesn’t rain in. I’ll get the duct tape and the toolbox,” she said and he barely heard her. His gaze went over her face, her smooth soft skin, her rosy mouth. Instantly, he thought about kissing her. Her kisses were hot, sexy, unforgettable. She bustled around him, getting a big roll of gray duct tape off a shelf, then picking up a toolbox. She put those things down and turned to the stack of thin plywood.

“If you can carry the toolbox and tape,” she told him. “I’ll take four of these boards just in case another window breaks.”

“I’ll take the plywood, you get the tools and tape,” he said. He picked up the pieces of plywood, watching the sway of her hips as she walked past him. Watching her just made him want her more. He had to leave her alone, avoid hurting her. It was the least he could do, given that she might have saved his life. But it was impossible to stop thinking about holding her and kissing her. He almost groaned aloud.

When they went back to the kitchen, she set down and opened the toolbox. “One winter we had an ice storm and tree limbs snapped and fell. One broke through a window on this end of the cabin and another on the other side. Gerald has a man who works for him who’s a good carpenter and they cut this plywood to fit my windows. It should keep out the rain until I can get new windows installed.”

“Thank goodness you have it or we’d be floating by morning. Doesn’t look like this storm is going to stop any time soon.”

“I’m afraid you’ll hurt your shoulder if you hold the plywood while I tape it to the window frame,” she said as she helped him lean them against a kitchen chair. But he picked up one plywood board and carried it to a window where rain was blowing through the jagged opening.

“I’ll be okay,” he said as he rested the bottom of the plywood on the window frame. She cut strips of duct tape and stood there seemingly wondering how to get around him to apply the tape.

“Come here, duck under my arm and then you’ll be close enough.”

He raised his arms and held up the board and she stepped into the circle of his arms to apply the tape. She was as close to him as possible without being against him. As she moved, she brushed against him and he caught another whiff of her perfume. He was too aware that when she had the tape in place on two sides and he could let loose of the plywood, all he had to do to hold her was wrap his arms around her and draw her that last inch or two that separated them. Why was she so tempting to him? His head pounded and his shoulder still ached and he shouldn’t feel all this hot attraction that she stirred constantly with no effort on her part. To the contrary, he suspected she didn’t want to feel it at all.

She had a huge reason to want to resist any attraction between them. She had been hurt badly. What a jerk she had been engaged to. She deserved better.

He was a total stranger to her and he’d lost his memory. In addition, he looked as if he’d fallen down a mountain, while she was heartbroken over her groom walking out at the final hour before the wedding. They had every reason to feel nothing, even more reason to avoid any kind of attraction. So why couldn’t they resist each other?

At this moment, ignoring all common sense, he wanted her in his arms, close against him. He wanted to kiss her again. As he thought about their kisses, he could feel the sweat break out on his forehead.

She glanced at him over her shoulder and ducked under his arm.

“I’ll finish taping this one because it isn’t tight all the way around,” he said, getting another pair of scissors to cut strips of tape. They worked silently and quickly, then moved to the next window and went through the same process again. And again he fought the same urges.

They had one more window after this one. As he stood trying to resist hugging her, he wondered if he would remember for the rest of his life opening his eyes to see a cowboy hat above big blue eyes and golden hair and a beautiful face leaning over him, and his first thought had been to wonder if she was an angel. But, as he’d told her later, angels didn’t wear cowboy hats.

His memory was interrupted and he was back in the present as she bumped against him. He held the plywood with one hand while he steadied her with his other hand, placing his hand on her hip. He held her like that for a moment and looked down at her as she looked up at him, and he felt ensnared, unable to move, look away or release her.

His heart drummed and he knew what he should do. Walk away. He also knew what he wanted to do. Tighten his arm, lean over her and kiss her again.

“I—I need to go,” she whispered, breaking the spell she had on him. His hand nearly shook, a faint tremor filled with longing, but he released her.

She was breathing as hard as he was and the look in her eyes indicated she was fighting temptation as much as he was, which just made him want her more.

She shook her head, broke their eye contact as she stepped away.

When she returned, she taped the plywood quickly, working silently.

“There,” she announced, then walked away and gathered up the duct tape and the toolbox. “We’re finished and now it won’t rain in. I’ll just get the floor a bit more cleaned up. Thanks for your help.”

All the time she had talked, she had looked at the plywood, at the floor, at the other windows on the east side of the room. She hadn’t met his gaze at all and he realized she was making a deliberate effort to look away. Which was probably better, considering the sizzling attraction that seemed to flare between them with the least provocation.

He had no idea whether there was a woman in his life, but he was absolutely certain, without remembering anything, that there had never been a sexier kiss than Ava’s.

“We’ll put this toolbox away tomorrow,” she said, setting it on the end of a long kitchen counter. “You sit and watch while I put the dishes in the dishwasher. It won’t take long. Then let’s go to the family room and turn on the logs.”

---