Round-the-Clock Temptation Read Free Page A

like when he slept. Did he lie on his stomach, his back? Did he wear pajamas or did he sleep in his birthday suit?
    Maybe one day she’d be lucky enough to find out.
    Or maybe she’d be better off not letting her imagination run off with her again. Her daddy always accused her of being too curious, too brazen, for her own good.
    â€œYou can stay wherever you’d like,” she told Connor. “We’ve got plenty of room. I’m just grateful you’re here to keep an eye on things. The staff have been instructed to assist you in any way possible.”
    â€œI appreciate that,” he said—so somber, so serious and businesslike. He really was different from his brother.
    â€œWell, okay, let’s get you settled in.” She reached for the door handle, but in a flash he’d grabbed it and opened the door for her.
    Well, damn. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone but her daddy had opened a door for her. To the farm hands, she was just one of the men, and was treatedaccordingly. That was the way she liked it. She had no delusions about the kind of woman she’d become. She wasn’t pretty or worldly like her sister Rose, and she certainly wasn’t what you would call feminine. She could drink any of the farm hands under the bar and was known to cuss a blue streak when the circumstances demanded it. She couldn’t cook, and had no inclination to learn, and would rather muck a stall than clean a toilet. Not a dream wife by any stretch of the imagination.
    Not any kind of wife at all.
    Not that she didn’t appreciate a good-looking man in a pair of tight jeans, she thought, taking a not-so-subtle peek at Connor’s rear end as she eased past him into the house.
    As Connor stepped in behind her, he gazed around the interior, at the cream-colored walls and French doors that opened to the office, up the wide staircase that led to the bedrooms. “Not your typical farmhouse.”
    â€œNope. My momma was a city girl and my daddy knew she wasn’t happy living in the old farmhouse, so he built her this one. I was just a baby when we moved in. Two years later cancer took her.”
    Most people would mumble some sort of apology, or words of regret. Connor only nodded.
    Not the talkative type, was he?
    â€œKitchen’s that way,” she said, pointing to the right. “Meals are at 6:00 a.m., noon and 6:00 p.m. sharp. Jane’s room is behind the kitchen. Through those doors over there is the office. The family room and Daddy’s suite are at the back of the house.”
    â€œHow is your father?” Connor asked.
    â€œHis surgery went well. He’ll be home in a day or two, but he’s going to be off his feet for at least a couple of weeks. It could have been a lot worse. If he hadn’t had Jimmy, our stable manager, with him, who knows how long he would have laid there.” She’d seen men hurt before, but when they cut away her daddy’s bloody pant leg and she saw the bone jutting through the skin, she’d felt dizzy and sick to her stomach.
    She’d never seen him looking so pale and weak and broken down. It disturbed her more than she would ever let on. He was her protector. Her hero. Larger than life and invincible. Even though she was a grown woman now, she wasn’t ready to let go of that fantasy. Instead it had been snatched away. Stolen from her by the Devlins.
    She turned to Connor. “We need to find out who did this.”
    There was fire in Nita’s eyes, a volatile, vivid anger—one Connor recognized all too well—and he suddenly felt sorry for any man who dared cross her. But through the anger, he could see a flicker of something else, something that might have been fear or hurt. It was gone so quickly, he couldn’t pin down the exact emotion.
    â€œThat’s what I’m here for,” he assured her. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
    She gave him a brusque nod.