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ruffle along its hem. Turning in a half circle, she watched it flare out. The jacket had feminine bell-shaped sleeves. It was certainly not something she could wear at the ranch, but it was growing on her.

      She dropped her gaze to her bare feet. What she needed now was shoes. She sent a worried glance at the rows upon rows of them that took up a wall in Jordan’s closet. So many choices, so little time. The shower in the bathroom had stopped running five minutes ago. Since then, she figured Jase had probably shaved and now was dressing.

      And she doubted he was stumped by shoe selection. The problem with Jordan’s was they all looked to be ankle-breakers. Still, there was a dark blue pair with a silver buckle that her eye kept returning to. Moving into the closet, she ran her finger over the buckle. But they’d never been worn. She didn’t feel right about wearing a pair of shoes that Jordan never had.

      Which was one of the reasons she needed to talk to her sister. Striding back to the phone, she once more punched in the number of the ranch. To her surprise, it rang. Then she listened to her own voice telling her to leave a message.

      When the beep sounded, she said, “Jordan, this is Maddie. Pick up if you can. Otherwise call me back ASAP.”

      A glance at her watch told her it was nine-thirty. “I’m running a little late, but you should be able to reach me at Eva Ware Designs a little after ten. Jase is coming with me.”

      She’d lost some time trying to talk him out of his plan to become her constant companion, but he’d remained firm. Until they had a clearer idea of what was going on, he was going to stick to her like glue. And he hadn’t missed his chance to tell her that two heads were better than one. There was nothing like having your own words come back to bite you.

      “You didn’t mention in his file that he was mule-headed. Anyway, it’s a long story, and there’s something else I need to tell you.” There was no way she was going to mention what they’d discovered about the investigation into Eva’s death on an answering machine.

      “So call me.” She was about to hang up when she remembered. “One other thing. There’s a pair of shoes in your closet that doesn’t look as if it’s ever been worn. Hope you don’t mind if I break them in. Bye.”

      She stared at the handset for a minute after she’d replaced it. She hadn’t exactly asked permission. But those blue shoes were definitely calling her name.

      Striding to the closet, she plucked them off the shelf, stepped into them, and winced. Was this what Cinderella’s stepsisters had felt like when they’d tried on the glass slipper?

      But they were the right size. She’d checked that out. The tight fit had to be due to the fact that she was used to wearing boots. Very comfortable, worn-in boots. She took an experimental step out of the closet and had to slam a hand into the door frame to keep her balance. Maddie shifted her gaze to the mirror. “This can’t be that hard. You learned to ride a horse, rope a cow and shoot a gun.”

      She took one step and teetered. This time she didn’t reach for the wall. “You can learn to walk in these. Millions of other women have. How hard can it be?”

      Turning away from her reflection, Maddie started for the foot of the bed, stumbled, and nearly went down.

      “About as hard as learning to walk on stilts,” she muttered. Then she focused on her destination. It was less than ten feet away. Concentrating hard, she raised her arms for balance the way a tightrope walker would and put one foot gingerly in front of the other. By the time she reached the bed, she could lower her arms.

      And breathe.

      So far, so good. She took another breath and started toward the dresser on the other side of Jordan’s bed. She raised her arms again, but by the time she was halfway there, she no longer felt the need to use them for balance. Thank heavens the learning curve for navigating around in the shoes was going to be short.

      On the surface of Jordan’s dresser lay a silver-plated brush and comb, a small box of hairpins and a jewelry box. Raising her eyes, Maddie regarded her image in the mirror and frowned. The hair was definitely wrong for the outfit.

      In her mind’s eye she pictured Jordan’s sophisticated, layered cut. Much better. There had to be something she could do. Quickly, she unraveled the braid and ran her fingers through it. Then using the hairbrush, she pulled it smoothly back from her face into a ponytail. Finally, she twisted the ponytail into a bun and secured it to the back of her head with pins.

      Better. But were the earrings okay? With a critical eye, she studied the tiny silver horseshoes that dangled from each of her ears. The sky-blue of the turquoise was fine in terms of color. But her hand was already reaching to open Jordan’s jewelry box. What she saw inside took her breath away.

      Of course, she’d seen Eva’s jewelry in magazines and on the store’s Web site, but nothing had captured the delicacy of the designs. In comparison, her horseshoes looked almost gaudy. She was reaching for a froth of lacy gold in a teardrop shape when she suddenly became aware that she wasn’t alone in the room.

      Turning, she saw Jase standing in the open doorway. How long had he been watching her? The way he was looking at her, the heat in his eyes, had her throat going desert-dry. Quickly she dropped her gaze from his. Not that it helped. He’d changed into a dark blue T-shirt and blazer which only emphasized his broad shoulders. And he wore jeans that fit snugly at the hips and hugged his legs like a second skin.

      And, in spite of everything she’d said to him, she wanted him again. For a moment, as the silence stretched between them, she became very aware of the fact that they were separated only by Jordan’s bed. If she moved toward it, would he? A wave of longing struck her, so intense that for a second, she nearly lost her balance.

      It wasn’t the shoes this time.

      It was the man.

      And she could have him right now. She could tell by the expression in his eyes. An image filled her mind of the two of them on the bed, naked, their limbs entwined, their bodies moving as one.

      No! Maddie fisted her hands at her sides. She had to get a grip on the way he was affecting her. Everything she’d said to him was true. She didn’t have time to indulge in…this…this…craziness. She had to learn to walk around in Jordan’s shoes. Literally as well as figuratively. She had to get to Eva Ware Designs.

      Dragging her eyes back to his face, she forced her mind back to the problem that had consumed her before Jase had entered the room—what she was wearing. She raised her hands and dropped them. “What do you think?”

      FOR A MOMENT Jase didn’t respond. How could he when he simply wasn’t thinking at all? His thoughts had scattered the moment he’d caught sight of her on the other side of the bed. He’d stopped in the doorway because he hadn’t trusted himself to go farther into the room.

      Or perhaps it was because desire had struck him with the force of a Mack truck. When she’d loosened her braid and run her fingers through it, he’d nearly lost it. He’d grabbed the doorjamb with one hand and held on tight as his mind emptied and filled with sensations—of how that long, loose hair would feel between his fingers, on his skin.

      He didn’t even know how long he’d been standing there staring at her. Long enough for him to weave a nice little fantasy about getting her out of that suit and touching her. Really touching her. He’d pictured them on that bed—this time in the daylight when they were both awake. And he knew exactly how that skin would feel—soft as rainwater, smooth as the petal of an exotic flower one might come across in the steamy jungle he’d just left.

      “Well?”

      Jase gathered enough of himself to note that her hands had fisted on her hips and one foot was tapping. And still he couldn’t get a word out. For the first time, something like fear moved through him.

      No woman had ever tied his tongue in knots before.

      “If this outfit is that bad, you’d better come right out and say it. I’m used to wearing jeans and slacks, so I don’t

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