To Wear His Ring Read Free

Gil was on the porch with one of his men. He gave her a curious appraisal, dismissing the man.
    “Where’s the rest of your stuff?” he asked, glancing past her at the small, white used car she drove, which she’d parked beside the big garage. “In the trunk?”
    “This is all the stuff I have,” she said.
    He looked stunned. “Surely you have furniture…?”
    “My other things are at my aunt’s house. But I don’t have much stuff of my own.”
    He stepped aside to let her go inside, his face curiousand his eyes intent on her. He didn’t say a word, but he watched her even more closely from then on.
    The first week on the job, she lost a file that Gil needed for a meeting he was flying to in the family Piper plane. It was an elegant aircraft, twin-engine and comfortable. Gil and John could both fly it and did, frequently, trucking the livestock they were showing from one state to the next with employees. Kasie wished she could go with the livestock, right now. Gil was eloquent about the missing file, his deep voice soft and filled with impatience.
    “If you’ll just be quiet for a minute, Mr. Callister, I’ll find it!” she exclaimed finally, driven to insubordination.
    He gave her a glare, but he shut up. She rustled through the folders on her desk with cold, nervous hands. But she did find the file. She extended it, sheepishly, grimacing at the look in his eyes.
    “Sorry,” she added hopefully.
    It didn’t do any good. His expression was somber and half-angry. His eyes glittered down at her. She thought absently that he looked very nice in a gray vested suit. It suited his fair hair and light eyes and his nice tan. It also emphasized the excellent fitness of his tall, muscular body. Kasie thought idly that he must have women practically stalking him when he went to dinner meetings. He was striking just to look at, in addition to that very masculine aura that clung to him like his expensive cologne.
    “Where’s John?” he asked.
    “He had a date,” she said. “I’m trying to cope with the new tax format.”
    His eyes narrowed. “Surely they taught tax compilation at your school?”
    She grimaced. “Well, actually, they didn’t. It’s a rather specialized skill.”
    “Buy what you need from the bookstore or the computer store and have them send me the bill,” he said shortly. “If you can’t cope, tell me that, too.”
    She didn’t dare. She wouldn’t have a job, and she had to support herself. She couldn’t expect Mama Luke to do it. “I can cope, sir,” she assured him.
    His eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. “One thing more,” he added curtly. “My girls are Miss Parsons’ responsibility, not yours.”
    “I only read them a story,” she began, blushing guiltily.
    His eyebrows arched. “I was referring to the way you braided Bess’s hair,” he said. “I thought it was an isolated incident.”
    She swallowed. Hardly isolated. The girls were always somewhere close by when Kasie stopped for lunch or her breaks. She shared her desserts with the children and frequently read to them or took them on walks to point out the various sorts of flowers and trees around the ranch house. Gil didn’t know that and she’d hoped the girls hadn’t said anything. Miss Parsons was curt and bullying with the children, whom she obviously disliked. It was inevitable that they’d turn to Kasie, who adored them.
    “Only one story,” she lied.
    He seethed. “In case you didn’t get the message the first time, Kasie, I am not in the market for a wife or a mother for my daughters.”
    The insult made her furious. She glared up at him, forgetting all her early teachings about turning cheeksand humility. “I came to work here because I need a job,” she said icily. “I’m only twenty-two, Mr. Callister,” she added. “And I don’t have any interest in a man almost old enough to be my father, with a ready-made family to boot!”
    His reaction was unexpected. He didn’t fire back. He