staring at her like they could see right through to her soul.
She closed her eyes. Like now . There he was, in vivid color, as he had been that evening, sitting across from her on the sofa with his legs stretched out in front of him, with his Stetson still on his head and looking sexier than any man had a right to look. So much in fact that more than once she had been tempted to get up off the sofa and go to him and curl up in his lap and purr.
She slowly opened her eyes, grateful she hadn’t done such a thing. She really should thank him for keeping her agitated during most of the conversation, which stopped herfrom making a complete fool of herself. But if the truth be told, telling her about his great-grandfather had helped to refocus her attention. She knew there was more to the story and wondered why this was her first time hearing it. If such a thing hadn’t come up on one of her computer’s search engines that meant it hadn’t made the news. Hmm. It was definitely something she would like to share with her readers, which might prompt them to want to start looking into their own family tree.
She shifted in bed thinking she was determined to get the whole story from Ramsey. If not Ramsey, then one of his brothers or cousins would do. Before leaving today Zane Westmoreland had tipped his hat at her, given her a flirty smile and a promise that he would be showing up for breakfast in the morning.
She shook her head. The only Westmoreland she wanted to concentrate on at the moment was the one who was probably sleeping peacefully in the bed only a few doors down the hall.
Six
“G ood morning.”
Ramsey glanced up from reading the morning’s newspaper to stare into Chloe’s face and immediately wished he hadn’t. Her dark eyes looked slumberous and sensuously drowsy. A part of him was tempted to suggest that she forget about preparing breakfast for his men and go back to bed…but only if she would take him with her.
The muscles in his neck tightened at the very thought and he forced out his response. “Morning.”
She sniffed the air. “Great, you’ve made coffee!”
He watched as she quickly headed toward the coffeepot. Today she was wearing another cute short dress with a pair of leggings underneath. He frowned. Did she have a pair of those things for every day of the week? And a different color for every day?
He took a sip of his coffee and watched as she poured hers,adding cream and sugar into the mix before leaning against the counter and taking what looked like a much-needed sip.
“Excellent,” she said.
“Thanks.” Was she smiling? And if she was, then what the heck for? Could a cup of coffee first thing in the morning do that to her? As far as he could recall she’d been barely speaking to him when they’d parted yesterday afternoon. And why did knowing he’d contributed to putting that smile on her face send a good feeling vibrating through him? Damn.
He gazed back down at his newspaper. To be honest, he was hoping that he would have been in and out of the kitchen this morning before she’d gotten up. He was determined more so than ever to put distance between them. Maybe then he’d be able to get a good night’s sleep.
“I’m doing omelets this morning. Would you like to go ahead and place your order?”
He glanced over at her. She was opening cabinets pulling out bowls, pots and pans. Had she said omelets? The last time he’d eaten an omelet was when he’d gone on a business trip and stayed at a hotel. It had been delicious.
“Yes, please,” he said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. “I’d like that.”
“How would you like it?”
He fought back the urge not to say the first thing that came into his mind, which would have given away his lusty thoughts. Hell, it was too early to think about that kind of stuff. But then, early morning sex wasn’t so bad. And he had a feeling she would be able to cook in the bedroom with just as much heat as she used in
She closed her eyes. Like now . There he was, in vivid color, as he had been that evening, sitting across from her on the sofa with his legs stretched out in front of him, with his Stetson still on his head and looking sexier than any man had a right to look. So much in fact that more than once she had been tempted to get up off the sofa and go to him and curl up in his lap and purr.
She slowly opened her eyes, grateful she hadn’t done such a thing. She really should thank him for keeping her agitated during most of the conversation, which stopped herfrom making a complete fool of herself. But if the truth be told, telling her about his great-grandfather had helped to refocus her attention. She knew there was more to the story and wondered why this was her first time hearing it. If such a thing hadn’t come up on one of her computer’s search engines that meant it hadn’t made the news. Hmm. It was definitely something she would like to share with her readers, which might prompt them to want to start looking into their own family tree.
She shifted in bed thinking she was determined to get the whole story from Ramsey. If not Ramsey, then one of his brothers or cousins would do. Before leaving today Zane Westmoreland had tipped his hat at her, given her a flirty smile and a promise that he would be showing up for breakfast in the morning.
She shook her head. The only Westmoreland she wanted to concentrate on at the moment was the one who was probably sleeping peacefully in the bed only a few doors down the hall.
Six
“G ood morning.”
Ramsey glanced up from reading the morning’s newspaper to stare into Chloe’s face and immediately wished he hadn’t. Her dark eyes looked slumberous and sensuously drowsy. A part of him was tempted to suggest that she forget about preparing breakfast for his men and go back to bed…but only if she would take him with her.
The muscles in his neck tightened at the very thought and he forced out his response. “Morning.”
She sniffed the air. “Great, you’ve made coffee!”
He watched as she quickly headed toward the coffeepot. Today she was wearing another cute short dress with a pair of leggings underneath. He frowned. Did she have a pair of those things for every day of the week? And a different color for every day?
He took a sip of his coffee and watched as she poured hers,adding cream and sugar into the mix before leaning against the counter and taking what looked like a much-needed sip.
“Excellent,” she said.
“Thanks.” Was she smiling? And if she was, then what the heck for? Could a cup of coffee first thing in the morning do that to her? As far as he could recall she’d been barely speaking to him when they’d parted yesterday afternoon. And why did knowing he’d contributed to putting that smile on her face send a good feeling vibrating through him? Damn.
He gazed back down at his newspaper. To be honest, he was hoping that he would have been in and out of the kitchen this morning before she’d gotten up. He was determined more so than ever to put distance between them. Maybe then he’d be able to get a good night’s sleep.
“I’m doing omelets this morning. Would you like to go ahead and place your order?”
He glanced over at her. She was opening cabinets pulling out bowls, pots and pans. Had she said omelets? The last time he’d eaten an omelet was when he’d gone on a business trip and stayed at a hotel. It had been delicious.
“Yes, please,” he said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. “I’d like that.”
“How would you like it?”
He fought back the urge not to say the first thing that came into his mind, which would have given away his lusty thoughts. Hell, it was too early to think about that kind of stuff. But then, early morning sex wasn’t so bad. And he had a feeling she would be able to cook in the bedroom with just as much heat as she used in
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