Millionaire on Her Doorstep. Stella Bagwell
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“Where are you staying? Here in town?”
She nodded and named the motel. “Why do you ask?”
Adam’s eyes drifted to her mouth. It was full and moist, the color of a strawberry when it turned juicy and ready to eat. The thought had him inwardly groaning with self-disgust. “I, uh, I just wanted to say there’s no need for you to stay in a motel. We have plenty of room out at the ranch.”
She drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Is this invitation from you or your parents?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to admit he’d first objected to the idea, but he quickly squashed it. Maybe Maureen York wasn’t the cool, self-assured woman he’d originally thought. Maybe he’d let her success as a scientist cloud the picture he’d envisioned of her. She might actually need another human being from time to time. And he wouldn’t be adverse to helping her if she would truly appreciate it. And him.
“Actually, the invitation is from all of us, and I told my parents I’d speak to you about it today.”
Without making any sort of reply, she turned and moved away from him. The gold-framed glasses dangled from her fingers as she mulled over his suggestion.
Adam jammed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and tried not to stare at the tall, shapely line of her figure from behind. He didn’t understand his reaction to this woman. He’d had plenty of girlfriends in the past, and if someone asked him what his taste in women ran to, he’d have to say petite and delicate. The sort who looked as if the slightest squeeze from a man’s hand would crush their bones. He normally loved blond hair and had always had a penchant for blue eyes. Soft and delicate and needy. Those were the things he’d always looked for in a woman. Those were the things his Susan had been made of.
But Maureen York was none of those things. She was tall with a full, ripe figure that was a far cry from delicate. She wasn’t even close to being thin. She was downright curvy. Her hair and eyes were both dark. And she was at least three or four years older than him. An older woman had never turned his head before. But God help him, she was the sexiest female he’d ever encountered.
“Look, Maureen, it’s not that difficult a question. You either want to stay in a boring motel room or you want to come out to the ranch. Which will it be?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. A scowl wrinkled her brow. “I don’t want to be a problem for any of you.”
He shrugged as though her presence around the place would be insignificant. “The Bar M has hundreds of cattle and two barns full of horses. One more mouth to feed won’t put us out.”
“You really know how to...make a woman feel wanted.”
A smug smile dimpled one of his cheeks. “I’ve been told that before.”
“Oh, I’m sure you have,” she replied dryly, then walked back to where he stood. “Tell your parents I really appreciate their thoughtfulness, but I—”
“What about my thoughtfulness?”
She cast him a doubtful frown. “Somehow I really don’t believe you want me in your home.”
“It’s my parents’ home,” he reminded her. “I just happen to be staying there, too, for the time being. Besides, I invited you, didn’t I?”
She shrugged. “Yes. But you also accused me of trying to kill you.”
“I can forget about that if you can.”
By nature, Maureen was a forgiving person. She’d never been one to harbor grudges, and even though Adam had said plenty of things to anger her, she wouldn’t continue to hold it against him. No, forgetting their past quarrel would be easy. It was the other things the man did to her that had Maureen worried. Spending more time around him than was necessary would be deliberately asking for trouble.
“As far as I’m concerned, our first meeting is over and forgotten. I’m sorry you were hurt and I can understand and forgive your anger toward me.”
Her head was tilted downward, her eyes veiled by thick, dark lashes. He took advantage of the unguarded moment to feast his eyes on her smooth skin. Beneath the golden tan, a faint dusting of freckles sprinkled the bridge of her nose and the ridge of her cheekbones.
Adam had the strongest urge to lean forward and press his lips to her cheeks and nose, to taste each little brown Beck. “I’m not angry anymore.”
The huskiness of his voice lifted her eyes to his, and in that moment Maureen knew he was seeing her not as a co-worker, but as a woman. The idea was both terrifying and thrilling.
She nervously moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I’m glad. But I’m still not sure....”
“How are you moving your things up from Houston? Or have you already?”
She shook her head. “I sold some of my furniture. What’s left I’m going to have shipped with my clothes, household goods and other items in a moving van. As soon as the paperwork on the house is finalized,” she added.
His expression turned incredulous. “The house! You mean you’ve already bought a house?”
Maureen refused to be chagrined. “Yes. I found one yesterday. Of course, it’ll be at least a couple of weeks before the abstract can be read by a lawyer and everything can be signed.”
“All I can say is, you don’t waste time, lady.”
She’d wasted...no, she swiftly corrected herself, she’d lost the past ten years of her life. She hadn’t wasted them. But things were going to be different now. Last night, she’d vowed to put her ex-husband and their dead baby behind her once and for all. She was going to move into her new house, focus on building herself a different life and forgetting everything that she’d lost.
“I can’t afford to waste time.”
One brow arched curiously at her remark. “You have a date to keep?”
Her face grew stiff and devoid of emotion. “I don’t have dates.”
His slow perusal of her brought a tinge of color to her cheeks. Adam didn’t let her discomfiture stop him. “You’ll probably think I’m impertinent,” he said. “But I’m going to ask why anyway.”
She turned her head away, but not before Adam spotted the faintest tremble at the corner of her lips. “You are being impertinent, and my personal life—or lack of one—is none of your business.”
Yesterday, her clipped words would have put a smug smile on his face. He would have found enjoyment in the knowledge that she could be wounded. But today, all he could feel was an overwhelming urge to reach out and touch her.
“You’re right,” he said quietly, then cleared his throat and jammed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “It is none of my business. So let’s get back to the initial question. Would you like to come stay at the ranch?”
She glanced at him, and for a split second he saw a flash of raw hunger in her eyes. The brief sight of it stabbed him right in the breastbone.
“It is tempting. I hate motel rooms.”
Latching onto the uncertainty in her voice, he said, “The Bar M is beautiful. We have a swimming pool, there’s always plenty of good food to eat, and you’d have a room off to yourself. You wouldn’t have to see me or anyone else, unless you wanted to.”
She did want to see him. That was the whole problem. But it wasn’t as if she was going to throw herself into Adam Sanders’s arms. Since David had walked out on her, she’d developed a willpower as strong as steel. She could resist any man.
“You make it sound very appealing.” She looked at him with sudden resolution. “I think I’ll accept your invitation, Adam.”
He didn’t know which pleased him more—her calling him by his