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“I’m fine,” she argued, trying—and failing—to pull free. “I haven’t finished the last stall, and Mike wants them done before dinner.”
“Yeah, you’re done. One of the boys can finish.” He pulled her along behind him, not giving her any choice but to run to keep up. Once inside the tack room, he closed the door behind them and flipped a light on.
There were shutters closed over the single window, giving the place a cave-like feel. It was a small room in the back of the stable, filled with supplies for the horses, and plenty of leather items being repaired. Halters and saddles, she knew, wore out just like anything else, and back here they were repaired or replaced.
It was as tidy as a church, Chloe thought, everything in its place. There were shelves with creams and soaps, and glass-fronted cabinets that held medications. She knew there were plenty of times a rancher would dose his own animals if he knew what the trouble was. For anything serious, the vet would be called out. The room was small, efficient and it smelled like... Liam. Like the outdoors and horses and leather and—Oh, for pity’s sake.
Getting a grip on her obviously wayward mind, she said sharply, “I don’t need one of ‘the boys’ to do my work for me.”
“That’s not what your hands are telling me,” he muttered.
Liam let go of her, walked to a heavy wooden cabinet on the far wall and opened it. She tucked her hands behind her back like a child. When she realized it, she let her arms drop to her sides. “I’m doing the work and I don’t want help.”
“That’s too bad,” Liam said, glaring at her over his shoulder. “Because you’re going to have help anyway.”
“I don’t take orders well,” she told him stiffly.
“You’ve been taking them from Mike,” he reminded her.
“That’s different. That’s work. I thought I was here to prove myself,” she said. “To learn about ranching and to show you that I can do what has to be done.”
He grabbed a small tin and palmed it. “You are.”
“Well, then let me do it.”
“Damn it, Chloe!” He slammed the cabinet door and it crashed shut. Whipping around to glare at her, he shouted, “I didn’t bring you out here for you to wear yourself out or to scar and blister yourself.”
“For God’s sake, a blister isn’t fatal.”
“Not the point. I don’t want you hurt. That’s not why you’re here,” he muttered darkly.
“Why am I here then, Liam? To prove I can make the camp for girls work?” She stared at him and tipped her head to one side. “Or was it because you thought I’d fail, and that way the camp idea would die and you wouldn’t be the one killing it.”
He snapped a hard look at her. “Where the hell did you come up with that?”
“All on my own,” she said. “Believe it or not, I can think.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t, but you’re thinking wrongly on this.”
“Am I?” she demanded, letting her temper run free after having been bottled up since she got to the ranch and realized how he was going to be treating her. “You’ve hardly spoken to me in the five days I’ve been here. I’m staying in your guest room, and the only time I see you is at the coffeepot at dawn. Heck, I don’t even see you at dinner.”
“What did you think was going to happen?” he muttered, flipping the lid off the tin he held.
“Honestly?” she answered frankly. “Sex. I thought sex would happen. A lot of sex.”
“Damn it, Chloe...” He tore his hat off, set it aside and stabbed his fingers through his hair.
“Well, why wouldn’t I?” Chloe pulled her other glove off and said primly, “We were stranded in the flood and couldn’t stop touching each other. Here, we’re in the same house, but we might as well be on separate ranches. If you’re not interested anymore, just tell me—”
She hadn’t heard him move. Hadn’t seen him practically jump the distance between them, but all of a sudden, there Liam was, yanking her close. He bent his head and took her mouth with a hunger she hadn’t even felt from him the first time they were together.
