LITMIR.BIZ

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questioning her, she was no doubt catching pneumonia.

      “You’re never going to warm up while you’re wearing that.”

      Her perfectly arched brows lifted high on her forehead. “Why, Jake,” she said. “Are you trying to get me undressed?”

      “Knock it off, Casey.” He headed for the stove where he picked up the teakettle and carried it to the sink. As he filled it with water, he told her, “We’ve known each other too long for this. Just get out of the damned dress. You know where the bathroom is. I’ll find you a robe or something.”

      When the kettle was half-full, he carried it to the stove, slammed it down on one of the burners, then turned on the fire underneath it. Then he stomped out of the kitchen without waiting to see if she was following his orders. The truth was, he admitted silently, he sure as hell didn’t want to be anywhere near her when she started peeling off that dress. His little sister’s friend or not, what she was doing to him was downright dangerous.

      He marched down the long hallway to his bedroom at the back of the sprawling adobe-and-wood house. Throwing the door open, he absently noted the crash as the heavy oak panel hit the wall. But he was on a mission. Find something concealing for her to wear. Yes, he thought. Definitely concealing.

      A burlap bag with a matching hood should do the trick.

      Unfortunately he told himself as he stepped into the bathroom and glared at the garment hanging from the hook on the back of the door, all he had was a terry-cloth robe.

      And a short robe at that.

      Doesn’t matter, he thought grimly. The important thing here was to get her dry. Then he’d dig out an old pair of sweats or something. Somehow, he had to survive the night, then get her the hell out of his life.

      Again.

      Clutching the robe in one fist, he marched back into his bedroom and came to a sudden stop at the foot of his bed.

      In the past five years many things had changed. For one, he now slept in the master bedroom, not down the hall in the room where he’d grown up or even the guest house where he’d lived for a few years. He had changed most of the furnishings, painted the walls, installed new drapes. But the huge four-poster was the same. The same bed he’d slept in all his adult life.

      And the same bed he’d found Casey in one night five long years ago.

      Instantly the past was all around him, and he shuddered with the force of the memories.

      There’d been a party in town. Casey’s brothers had thrown themselves a farewell get-together. Since the Oakeses were leaving Simpson for the relatively big city of Morgan Hill, they’d decided to stage one last event for their friends.

      He had left the party early, hoping to find some peace and quiet before his parents and sister returned to the ranch. He’d been living in the guest house then. A consideration, his father’d called it. A necessity was how Jake had thought of it. Even though working the family ranch was all he’d ever wanted to do, a thirty-year-old man needed more privacy than living in his parents’ house could afford.

      He’d walked through the dark guest house, not even bothering to turn on a lamp. In his mind, he could still hear the echo of his own footsteps in the empty rooms. He remembered feeling a little sorry for himself that the twins—and Casey—were moving away.

      In his bedroom he’d plopped down onto the mattress to tug off his boots. He’d gotten one off and had just started on the other when her voice stopped him.

      That so familiar voice had sounded different that night. Throaty, deep, filled with unspoken promises and just a quavering hint of nerves.

      “I think you should know you are not alone.”

      Three

      Jake had jumped to his feet, taken two quick steps to the bedside table and fumbled for the lamp switch.

      Soft light dazzled the darkness, spilling over the woman waiting in his bed. Propped up with pillows behind her back, Casey lay beneath the covers. The sheet-topped quilt folded neatly across her breasts, she displayed just enough creamy flesh to let him know she was naked.

      Jake drew one long unsteady breath, then deliberately took a step away from the bed. “What are you up to?”

      She looked at him, then let her gaze slide to one side nervously. “Jake, I—”

      “How did you get in here?”

      “Annie gave me a key.”

      “Annie?” Damn, his little sister was in on this! Was this setup some kind of a joke? But no. Instinctively he knew that whatever else she was up to, Cassandra Oakes wasn’t kidding.

      He flashed her another quick look and had to swallow back a groan. Her long blond hair lay across her shoulders and bare arms. Her green eyes shone with a passion he hadn’t expected and didn’t know quite how to handle.

      Oh, he knew how he’d like to handle it. For months he’d been noticing his younger sister’s friend—much to his disgust. God, he’d known Casey since she was ten! She was just a kid. At least he’d always thought of her as one. And yet lately, every time she showed up at the Parrish ranch, he was drawn to her. He’d found himself looking for her, hoping to see her.

      And that worried him.

      Hell, he was thirty years old. He was ready to settle down. He’d been to college. He’d had a chance to taste the rest of the world and had finally realized that the life he wanted was here. On the ranch.

      But Casey Oakes was only nineteen—and barely out of high school.

      What did she know about life? Or herself, for that matter? She didn’t need him cluttering up her future just when it was beginning to open up in front of her.

      So he had made up his mind to keep his desires in check. To keep a watchful distance from Casey until she’d had a chance to explore the world a bit.

      But he’d never counted on having her ambush him in his bedroom.

      “You’d better get out of here,” he said past the hard knot of need lodged in his throat.

      “But I’ve been waiting for you,” she said. Jake watched as she held the covers to her and came up on her knees. She looked at him and shook her hair back away from her face.

      He dragged a short harsh breath into straining lungs. Almost unwillingly his gaze shot to the swell of her breasts, where her armor of quilt and sheet was beginning to dip. Every breath she drew tantalized him, pushing him closer to the limits of his own endurance. His palms itched to cup her breasts. He could almost taste her sweet warmth.

      Deliberately he clenched his hands at his sides and let his angry frustration color his voice.

      “Well, now that I’m here,” he said, “you can go.”

      “No.”

      “No?”

      “Oh, Jake…” She leaned toward him, unknowingly letting that quilt drop another inch or two until the tops of her breasts were bared to his view. She held out one hand to him. “Don’t you see? I’ve wanted this to happen for so long—and now we’re moving away. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

      That had occurred to him, as well. In fact, it was the main reason he’d left the party early. He hadn’t felt like celebrating the fact that the one woman he was interested in was being spirited out of town. He wasn’t a big believer in the old adage “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” No doubt, Casey would forget all about him in a year or two. As would he forget about her.

      Which made it even more imperative that he got her the hell out of his bedroom.

      “Casey, you shouldn’t be here.”

      “This is exactly where I should be,” she countered, and scooted to the edge of the bed, dragging the bed-clothes

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