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smiling, considering how beautiful they would be in a few months, all gold and bright as the cold
weather moved in. Her bulbs would need to be dug and separated, but that could wait for cooler
weather. She d planted some new bulbs at the ranch, too, last autumn, but Jason s big German
shepherd had dug them up and eaten them. Fuming mad, she d told Jason that the animal was a
squirrel. No self-respecting dog would eat a helpless bulb. He d almost bent over double laughing at
her outrage. But he d replaced the bulbs and even reluctantly loaned her one of his cowboys to help
her replant them; one of his oldest and ugliest cowboys, at that. He went to great lengths to put
distance between her and his ranch foreman, Grange.
What are you thinking? he asked.
She laughed self-consciously. About Baker eating my bulbs last fall.
He grinned. He s developed a taste for them. I had to put a fence around your flower bed.
A fence? she wailed.
A white picket fence, he assured her. Something aesthetic.
She relaxed. You re nice.
He lifted an eyebrow. I am?
She put down the trowel and stood up, brushing at the dirt on her sweatshirt. It only smeared. Darn,
she muttered. It will never come out.
Harcourt can get anything out. She has chemicals hidden in the pantry.
She glanced at him and laughed delightedly. Yes, but Dilly does the laundry.
Dilly has chemicals, too.
She looked down at her feet. Her sneakers were caked in mud. I ll never get through the house in
these, she moaned. She slipped out of them, standing in her stained socks. Oh, darn!
I need to teach you how to cuss, he mused.
You do it well enough for both of us, and in two languages, she pointed out. His Spanish was
elegant and fluent.
He chuckled. So I do.
The ground is cold, she said absently.
He stood, moved close and suddenly swung her up into his powerful arms as if she weighed nothing
at all.
She gasped at the strength in those powerful arms and clung to his neck, fearful of being dropped.
She d never liked being carried, although it was agonizingly stimulating when Jason did it. She felt
shaky all over, being so close to him. This time, her body betrayed its fascination with him. She felt
the whisper of his coffee-scented breath on her face as he shifted her. He smelled of faint, expensive
cologne and soap, and muscles rippled in his chest. The ache that had begun to consume her became
almost painful. Her mind filled with unfamiliar, dangerous thoughts. She should be still, she should
pull back. She was thinking it even as she suddenly nestled closer to his warm strength and buried her
face in his throat. She thought he shuddered, but that was doubtful. She d never known a man in better
control of himself.
I know, you don t like being picked up, he said in a husky tone. He laughed softly. But you can t
walk on the white carpet shoeless with dirty socks, pet, he added. He curled her even closer, so that
her small, firm breasts were crushed against warm, hard muscle. Just lie still and think of England.
She frowned as he carried her up the steps and into the house, shifting her weight for an instant to
open the front door. He kicked it shut behind them and started for the stairs that led to the second floor
of the huge mansion.
England? she asked, diverted.
He carried her up the staircase, smiling. Think about it.
England. She d never been to England. Had she?
He stopped at the door to her room. His black eyes pierced into hers. He was much too close. She
could feel his clean breath on her face. The feel of his arms under her, his warm strength so close to
her, made her feel exhilarated and breathless. She didn t want to move. She wanted him to hold her
even closer.
Those old movies, where women sacrifice themselves for the good of their country? he prompted,
still smiling. But his eyes were taunting, wise, hinting at things that Gracie knew nothing about.
What old movies? she asked absently. Her mind was on how fast her heart was beating.
Never mind, he said heavily. He put her down abruptly, looking frustrated.
I don t watch old movies, Jason, she said, trying to placate him. We don t have any.
I ll buy some old ones, he muttered. Maybe some documentary ones, too.
Documentaries? About what? she asked blankly.
He started to speak, thought better of it and made a thin line of his lips. Never mind. Don t be too
long.
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