pain tore through her leg.
“You’re hardly in any shape to shower. Unless you want me to wash your back,” he said, eyes dropping to her breasts, “I suggest you cooperate. Let me hose you off, and then I’ll take a look at your leg.”
“You’re the boss.” He had no idea how badly she wanted to cooperate, but she had to remain professional no matter how well he filled out his jeans. She sighed. “Spray away, and make it cold. I’m dying under here.”
“You should’ve melted by now, lady.” He ran a soapy cloth over her, turned the water on, and then hosed her off. Starting at the top of her head, he worked his way down to her toes.
She felt like a soggy polar bear, but darned if she wasn’t clean enough to eat off. His firm lips captured her attention, and her stomach quivered over the image forming in her head.
Stop it, you nitwit .
“It’s gotta be eighty degrees outside. What possessed you to wear this getup? Were you trying to kill yourself from heat stroke and exhaustion?”
“It was a little cool this morning.” She’d die if he knew the real reason she’d worn such an impractical outfit. Her worst nightmare came true as her baggy clothing clung to her, revealing everything beneath.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a T-shirt on?” He shut the hose off and grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt. “Common sense should’ve told you to take this off earlier. Let me help you.”
“No wait. It’s not a T-shirt.”
“Doesn’t matter. You need to cool off. Anything’s bound to be better than this heavy getup.” He pulled her sweatshirt over her dripping head.
His jaw grew slack and his eyes bugged, making her squirm. As he tugged the hem out of her sweatpants, he kept staring at her peach, satin and lace, spaghetti-strap nightgown. He finally pulled his gaze away from her puckered nipples and croaked, “Well, this looks familiar. You sure do have a strange sense of fashion.”
“W-With all the flapping I did yesterday, I-I was so sore ... and I um ... couldn’t lift my arms to pull this over my head. My sweat suit ... well, it um ... it was the only thing I had big enough to hide it under, okay?” How did he do that? She was a professional. She was a strong woman.
She was a bumbling idiot.
Irritated he could reduce her to that in seconds, she thrust out her chin and snapped, “Since when did my looks become part of the deal?”
Cody chuckled silently, one corner of his mouth tipping up against his will. Her spirit intrigued the hell out of him. She was the most interesting thing to happen on the ranch in a long time. He looked forward to their verbal sparring matches, but he could tell she needed compassion right now. She tried hard to be strong, but beneath that proud façade lurked vulnerability.
“Look at me.” He pitched his voice soft and low, lacing it with tenderness, and lifted her chin. An involuntary emotion he refused to identify seeped into his voice. “You’re so damned beautiful.”
She looked up at him and whispered, “What?”
Not trusting himself to speak another word, he couldn’t stop his body from ignoring his brain. He pushed her tangled, wet locks over her shoulders and laid his palms against her neck, stroking her jaw with his thumbs. Then he slid them down her throat, until his palms rested on her chest just above her firm breasts.
Her eyes closed, and he felt her breathing quicken at his touch, her heart pound beneath his hand. It amazed him he had this effect on her. What could a city girl like her possibly want with a country guy like him? She might want to roll around in the hay with him, but she’d leave as soon as she found out the campaign proposal she was working so hard on didn’t even matter. Worse, he’d known about it from the beginning.
He cursed silently and moved his hands to safer territory. Letting his fingers slide down the length of her slender arms, he held her hands. They stayed that way for several moments.
It took
“You’re hardly in any shape to shower. Unless you want me to wash your back,” he said, eyes dropping to her breasts, “I suggest you cooperate. Let me hose you off, and then I’ll take a look at your leg.”
“You’re the boss.” He had no idea how badly she wanted to cooperate, but she had to remain professional no matter how well he filled out his jeans. She sighed. “Spray away, and make it cold. I’m dying under here.”
“You should’ve melted by now, lady.” He ran a soapy cloth over her, turned the water on, and then hosed her off. Starting at the top of her head, he worked his way down to her toes.
She felt like a soggy polar bear, but darned if she wasn’t clean enough to eat off. His firm lips captured her attention, and her stomach quivered over the image forming in her head.
Stop it, you nitwit .
“It’s gotta be eighty degrees outside. What possessed you to wear this getup? Were you trying to kill yourself from heat stroke and exhaustion?”
“It was a little cool this morning.” She’d die if he knew the real reason she’d worn such an impractical outfit. Her worst nightmare came true as her baggy clothing clung to her, revealing everything beneath.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a T-shirt on?” He shut the hose off and grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt. “Common sense should’ve told you to take this off earlier. Let me help you.”
“No wait. It’s not a T-shirt.”
“Doesn’t matter. You need to cool off. Anything’s bound to be better than this heavy getup.” He pulled her sweatshirt over her dripping head.
His jaw grew slack and his eyes bugged, making her squirm. As he tugged the hem out of her sweatpants, he kept staring at her peach, satin and lace, spaghetti-strap nightgown. He finally pulled his gaze away from her puckered nipples and croaked, “Well, this looks familiar. You sure do have a strange sense of fashion.”
“W-With all the flapping I did yesterday, I-I was so sore ... and I um ... couldn’t lift my arms to pull this over my head. My sweat suit ... well, it um ... it was the only thing I had big enough to hide it under, okay?” How did he do that? She was a professional. She was a strong woman.
She was a bumbling idiot.
Irritated he could reduce her to that in seconds, she thrust out her chin and snapped, “Since when did my looks become part of the deal?”
Cody chuckled silently, one corner of his mouth tipping up against his will. Her spirit intrigued the hell out of him. She was the most interesting thing to happen on the ranch in a long time. He looked forward to their verbal sparring matches, but he could tell she needed compassion right now. She tried hard to be strong, but beneath that proud façade lurked vulnerability.
“Look at me.” He pitched his voice soft and low, lacing it with tenderness, and lifted her chin. An involuntary emotion he refused to identify seeped into his voice. “You’re so damned beautiful.”
She looked up at him and whispered, “What?”
Not trusting himself to speak another word, he couldn’t stop his body from ignoring his brain. He pushed her tangled, wet locks over her shoulders and laid his palms against her neck, stroking her jaw with his thumbs. Then he slid them down her throat, until his palms rested on her chest just above her firm breasts.
Her eyes closed, and he felt her breathing quicken at his touch, her heart pound beneath his hand. It amazed him he had this effect on her. What could a city girl like her possibly want with a country guy like him? She might want to roll around in the hay with him, but she’d leave as soon as she found out the campaign proposal she was working so hard on didn’t even matter. Worse, he’d known about it from the beginning.
He cursed silently and moved his hands to safer territory. Letting his fingers slide down the length of her slender arms, he held her hands. They stayed that way for several moments.
It took
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