The Rancher's Seduction. Catherine Mann
He flipped the burgers on the grill, the sizzling meat sending spicy scents into the air. His low growl of approval stirred her. Deeply. Calling to mind other primal pleasures.
Six weeks suddenly sounded like a very long time.
Heat built inside him faster than any smoking from the stone grill. Marshall watched Tally turn toward the pantry, all sass and sex rolled into one.
He read loud and clear the boss/employee boundaries she was keeping in place, and he respected her for that. And still...he was tempted.
Nudging the burgers on the grates and judging them nearly done, he knew full well there was no tofu or sprouts blended in since he didn’t keep any in stock. Still, she’d made him laugh. Something he didn’t do often.
Through narrowed eyes, he watched her arrange lettuce, pickle wedges and tomato slices on a small platter. She had a smooth way of moving, each motion blending right into the next.
Had they met a month ago, he would have pursued her like gangbusters. But with his broken arm and the taste for alcohol simmering just below the surface, he was reminded how tenuous sobriety could be.
He couldn’t afford change, not now.
She set a lone place at the table.
And somehow it seemed to be making a bigger deal out of the attraction not to do the obvious and invite her to join him. “Tally, set a place for yourself, too.”
She glanced at him quickly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth before nodding slowly. “We should plan out my work schedule.”
“Now?”
“If you’re too busy watching those burgers—” she stared at him pointedly with those alluring hazel eyes “—then just let me know when would be a better time.”
There she went, making him chuckle again. “Now’s fine. Let’s plan.”
“Thank you. I need to let the hospital know when I’m available.”
“Hospital?” he asked. Keeping up with this woman’s conversational diversionary paths could make a man dizzy. Then he thought of her “all natural” quest. Was she ill? She likely didn’t have much of a financial cushion to take time off.
He thought of his sister Naomi’s teenage battle with cancer. Her return to health had been draining. He couldn’t imagine someone managing such a major health crisis while working full-time.
Tally folded napkins alongside the silverware, deep red hair feathering down her back. “I volunteer in the NICU—neonatal ICU—holding babies that are there for extended stays.”
A sigh of relief left him. He also wondered how he’d let himself jump to such a dire conclusion so quickly. This woman had him off-balance with her sexy confidence and curves to match. “Aren’t their parents there to hold them?”
“The parents stay as much as possible, but they often have jobs or other children that make it impossible to be at the hospital twenty-four/seven. Touch is so important to any baby, and even more so for a struggling preemie building up their immune system.”
His admiration for her grew. She had a fiery crusader’s spirit to go with that fiery red hair. This was the kind of woman a man admired, the kind of woman a man married. And he wasn’t in the market for happily-ever-after.
He would wager money she wasn’t the affair type, even if he wasn’t her boss. Even if this had been a month ago, even if his life wasn’t teetering on the edge. His broken arm and the frustration from the restrictions of his recovery had him longing to pass the time with a drink.
The last thing he could do. He’d worked too hard for his sobriety. He picked up the small platter. “Keep your volunteer schedule in place. If you could just give me a copy, we can work around it here.”
Her hazel eyes sparkled with appreciation. “That’s very kind of you.” Then the spark turned to something else. Suspicion, perhaps? “Don’t think you’re getting rid of me so easily. I’ll still be working at least a forty-hour week for you.”
“I’m sure you will,” he said. She seemed as tenacious as Nugget. “There’s plenty of flex when those hours can be, since I have business to attend to as well.”
“Thank you.” She wiped her hands on the apron tied over her khaki pants. “You’re entirely too accommodating, you know. I would be a much tougher boss.”
“And since I guessed that about you, there’s no need for me to be a hardnose.” He slid the burgers from the grill onto the platter. He’d always found, as one of the middle children in the Steele clan, there were better means for getting his way than the open bullheadedness of his siblings and father. “Well, unless you put sprouts in my burger.”
“Message received, boss.” She sliced fresh sourdough rolls, then gestured to the table. “Supper is served.”
He held out her chair for her, his eyes meeting hers. The air crackled with awareness, so much for someone he’d just met, but undeniable.
Without question, the woman beside him was far more enticing than any feast, no matter how appetizing.
Cradling a premature baby girl in her arms, Tally still felt guilty for taking a half day off only twenty-four hours after beginning her new job. But Marshall had insisted he didn’t care if she shuffled tasks into the evening and that he had a business meeting with his uncle, anyway. Having her out of the way would actually be helpful.
She suspected he’d made up the last part, but she had a list of tasks to accomplish after she finished at the hospital. Dusting was the least of her concerns for getting the house ready for Christmas.
Marshall’s place could seriously use a woman’s touch. She’d acknowledged that much in the cleaning she’d finished before she left for the hospital.
Toe tapping the chair into motion, she rocked with the baby girl—Stella Rae—mindful, always, of the monitors and tubes hooked up to the little one.
Despite the gravity of the NICU ward, despite the hardships these babies and their families all faced, the hospital staff went above and beyond. It came out in the way the nurses fussed, lingered past the end of a shift, and the pool of dedicated volunteers. Everyone who was part of this community dedicated time and emotion in ways that made it slightly better for the suffering families.
Which was why she smiled sadly at the Christmas decorations in the ward. The holiday wouldn’t be the same for families struggling with a hospitalized child. But there were touches here and there, attempts to bring some normalcy, and yes, joy, to this ward.
A nurse in reindeer-themed scrubs with a Santa pin passed by Tally. A squat artificial Christmas tree twinkled at her from the corner of the sitting room, minor touches of Christmas cheer.
She had her work cut out for her on more than one front with Marshall Steele. Now that she’d started her job and met her enigmatic boss, she wondered what she’d been thinking.
How could she ever expect there to be peace over her father’s role in the plane crash? Seeing Marshall Steele made the family feel so much more, well, real. Which should have been obvious.
Her plans to help them, to let them know her father wasn’t a bad man, had seemed so attainable before, and now? Far too simplistic.
Regardless, there was no backing out at this point. She had signed on for the job, and she needed the work. If an opportunity presented itself to discuss the past, she would take it.
For now? Her best bet was to focus on the present, starting with the sweet weight in her arms as she rocked back and forth, humming “Away in a Manger” under her breath.
A door swept open, and a local social worker strode through. Felicity Hunt had become her friend over the past month. In the case of a child entering foster care, a representative was assigned to stay with the child at all times until the little one left the hospital.