Olivia Gates - Best of Desire

This place was both a touchstone to the past and a foothold on his future. He opened the arched, dark wood door, stepped inside and set Daisy on her feet quickly. Best to get that curvy body away from his as fast as possible.

She slipped her heels on and did a slow turn, taking in what she could of the house from the foyer.

“Wow,” she whispered. “This is really…”

Cathedral ceilings arched high overhead, with pale, varnished logs crisscrossing in geometric patterns. The last of the afternoon sunlight slanted through the glass and lay dazzling golden patterns on the gleaming wood floors.

“Yeah, I like it.” He led the way into the main room, right off the hallway, and she followed as he’d expected her to, those heels of hers clicking musically against the uncarpeted floors.

“It echoes in here,” she said.

Jericho frowned as he looked back at her. “It’s a big room.”

“And practically empty.” She shook her head as she glanced around. He followed her gaze. The furnishings were utilitarian but comfortable. There were sofas, chairs, a few tables and lamps and a long wet bar against one wall. There was a river-stone hearth tall enough for him to stand up in, and the view of the mountains was breathtaking.

“It looks like a barracks.”

He shot her a look. “Clearly you’ve never seen barracks.”

“No,” she admitted, walking in, holding her dog and petting it as she moved, “but you’ve got this gorgeous place and it’s decorated like…” She stopped and smiled apologetically. “Sorry. None of my business, is it?”

Jericho frowned again. What the hell was wrong with the room? No one else had ever complained. Then he told himself, city girl, and dismissed her observation entirely.

“So. Sam tells me you want to cook for us.”

“Yes.” She gave him a blindingly brilliant smile and Jericho felt that hard jolting punch of desire slam into him again. The woman was carrying concealed weapons. “About that…”

Daisy saw the hesitation in Jericho King’s ice-blue eyes. There was regret there, too, and she knew that he was about to turn her down. Destroy the plan she’d come there to set into motion. Well, she couldn’t let that happen, so before he could say anything else, Daisy started talking.

“I spoke to Sam, your foreman. Was that him out front?” She carried Nikki with her as she crossed the room to stare out the wide front windows. She kept talking as she walked. “I should have said hello, oh, he probably thinks I’m a crazy person, showing up and falling flat on my face.”

She didn’t look back at Jericho. Couldn’t afford to. Not yet.

He’d unsettled her. He looked so big and gorgeous and, well, grim. Probably didn’t smile much, she thought, which might be a good thing because he’d affected her so much glowering at her, one smile might have done her in completely.

Funny, she hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t thought that one look at him would start her insides burning and her heart galloping madly in her chest. He was so tall. So strong. When he’d swept her up into his arms, it had been all she could not to sigh at him.

She’d chosen Jericho because of the bond he’d had with her brother. She hadn’t expected to feel such an immediate attraction to the man. But that was good, wasn’t it? At least, for what she had in mind it was a good thing. All she had to do was find a way to keep him from sending her packing before she did what she’d come here to do.

After all, she couldn’t get pregnant with Jericho King’s child if she wasn’t here, now could she?

Two

“So,” Daisy asked, plastering a confident smile on her face, “When do I start?”

She watched him watching her and yet, whatever he was thinking at the moment didn’t show in his eyes. Those pale blue depths were shuttered, effectively closing her out. But that would change, she thought. Given a little time, she’d bring him around, win him over. Judging by the look on his face, though, that wouldn’t be easy.

“Ms. Saxon—Daisy,” he corrected before she could say anything. “I’ve been out of town for the past few days. Sam told me only a few minutes ago about you applying for this job.”

“I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret,” she said, meeting his gaze directly. “I mean, you offered to help me after Brant, but I didn’t want to use that offer to get this job. I wanted to earn it on my own merits, you know? I didn’t want you to feel obligated or anything, so I went through Sam when I heard about the job opening.” Which was true, she thought, though she had counted on the fact that Jericho would feel obligated enough to keep her on once she was here. “I’m a very good cook, by the way. Sam saw my references and my résumé. When we spoke, he said he thought I’d do fine here.”

“I disagree,” he said tightly, and Daisy geared up for battle. “The fact is, I don’t think you working here is a good idea at all.”

Daisy swallowed hard. She really hadn’t counted on this. Frankly, she’d expected Jericho to sort of go along with the idea. The whole obligation thing. He had once promised to help if he could. And her late brother had idolized the man. Somehow, she’d expected the “great Jericho King” to be just a bit more understanding. Well, he might not want her to stay, but she wasn’t gone yet.

“Why not?” She threaded her fingers through Nikki’s dark red hair so he wouldn’t be able to see her hand shaking. But even as nerves rattled around in the pit of her stomach, Daisy told herself to get a grip. She wasn’t going to let him see she was nervous. Wasn’t going to acknowledge that even to herself. Not again. From here on out, it was affirmations. Focus on the positive. See the goal and get it.

With those thoughts and a dozen others just like them rushing through her mind, Daisy lifted her chin and waited for him to speak. Whatever excuse or reason he gave her, she was going to counter it. She would fight to be here. To stay here. To accomplish her goal.

To do that, she was going to show him just how much he needed her here. How much she could bring to him and to his camp. And she was going to start right now. She had the element of surprise on her side.

“This place isn’t like the spa you saw today in your travels across the mountain.”

“You can say that again,” she noted, turning a glance to the beige sofas and chairs. “Honestly, do you have something against color?”

“What?”

“Beige,” she said, waving one hand to indicate the furniture in the room. “Beige isn’t a color. It’s the absence of color.”

“Actually,” he said, “that would be black.”

“Well, beige is close,” she insisted. “When you’re running a place like this, you shouldn’t go for industrial chic. You should have warmth in this room. And a few throw rugs would cut down on the echo.”

“I don’t mind the echo.”

“I’m guessing the meals you serve your guests are as imaginative as the décor.”

“I don’t have décor,” he pointed out.

“That’s what I said.”

“I meant,” he said through gritted teeth, “I’m not interested in making this place into a fashionable inn.”

“Oh, I agree. That would be all wrong. After all, you’re going for the whole manly Survivorman thing, right? It doesn’t have to be fussy,” Daisy countered, already seeing in her mind’s eye how it could look. A few pillows, some colorful braided rugs, maybe some splashy paintings on a few of the bare walls. “You want your clients to be comfortable, don’t you?”

“This isn’t a vacation camp. People come here to learn skills. Leadership. They come here to pit themselves against the mountain and Mother Nature.”