Read Millionaire on Her Doorstep Online

Authors: Stella Bagwell

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BOOK: Millionaire on Her Doorstep
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Maureen didn't wait for a reply—she just turned and walked away from him. She was at the filing cabinet, pretending to search for a folder, when she heard his footsteps leaving the room. Once the door closed behind him with a soft click, she sagged against the metal drawers and let out a long breath.
Dealing with Adam Murdock Sanders was going to be much harder than she'd thought. Much harder.
 
“Have you eaten a bucket of nails or something?”
Adam glanced up from the saddle he was cleaning. His twin sister, Anna, was striding up the alleyway of the horse barn, tugging a reluctant sorrel yearling behind her. At the moment, the animal's ears lay pinned against his head, his nostrils were flared and
the whites of his eyes were showing. Apparently, his mood wasn't any better than Adam's.
“I haven't eaten anything since lunch. What've you done to him?” he asked, nodding toward the colt.
“Nothing yet. He just knows something is about to happen and he's afraid he isn't going to like it.”
Adam knew the feeling. It hit him every time he walked into the same room with Maureen York. Not that he'd had any more confrontations with the woman. Quite the contrary, in fact. Not one cross word had passed between them. Whenever the two of them had anything to discuss, she was cool, polite and professional. He should be pleased about their newfound relationship, but in truth, he despised her indifference and his phony reaction to it.
By now, Anna had reached his workplace, a little secluded area just off the tack room. Pausing, she gave her brother a puzzled frown. “What's your problem?” Anna persisted.
Adam turned his attention back to the saddle resting on the hitching rail. The task was mundane, but bringing the leather back to life was something he enjoyed. Especially when he was out of sorts and needed time to ponder things. For the past hour, he'd been asking himself why he'd not been content to be just a rancher. He loved the life. The outdoors, the livestock, the hard manual labor of it all. But something had driven him on to be an oilman just like his father. And he wondered what had driven Maureen to be a geologist. Even more, what had really called her out here to New Mexico. And him.
“I don't have one.”
“It's not normal for you to come home early to
work in the stables. Your lunch must have been sour.”
“If it was sour, the acid in my stomach took care of it.”
“I don't doubt that. You must be full of the stuff.”
He jammed the polishing cloth into the back pocket of his jeans and turned to face his sister. “Are you trying to tell me I'm not the charming man I usually am?”
The redhead laughed heartily. “You look like you could commit murder. I don't know why you came down here in such a mood.”
“Where would you have me go? A bar, so I could drown the acid with alcohol?”
She made a face at him and he frowned back at her. No one knew him like his twin. The two of them had always shared a closeness that superseded the normal bonds between siblings. If Anna was hurting, he sensed it. If he was in pain, Anna knew it.
“No, I don't want you in a nasty ole bar,” she said. The colt began to jig nervously away from her. She tugged on the lead rope and forced him back to her side. “What's the matter anyway? Are you having it out with the new geologist Daddy hired?”
Adam cocked a wary brow at her. “Having it out?”
She frowned at him. “You know what I mean. Daddy said you two had a row the first moment you laid eyes on each other.”
“Humph,” he snorted. “We got that all straightened out. I've forgiven her for breaking my ankle.” He just couldn't forgive her for being so beautiful, so damn tempting.
“How generous of you,” Anna said sweetly, then
motioned for him to follow her. “I need some help with this little devil. Will you hold him while I clip his mane?”
Adam groaned. “Why do you want to get me killed?”
Anna laughed. “You look like you need to be put out of your misery. Come on.”
“You're so funny,” he retorted, but followed her and the horse down to the grooming pen anyway.
As expected, the yearling put up a good fight. By the time Anna turned off the clippers, Adam had been bitten, stomped and rope burned. His sister tried not to giggle at the look of disgust on her brother's face, but a few spurts of laughter managed to escape in spite of her efforts.
“I'm sorry, Adam, but I did offer to let you do the cutting while I did the holding.”
He carefully peeled away the loose hide hanging from his forearm. “Don't worry about it. I'll survive.”
Her giggles subsided. “Actually, it's your state of mind that's worrying me.”
“Well, I apologize for not dancing around with a happy smile on my face. It's been a hard week, and I have things on my mind.”
Anna thoughtfully tapped a finger against her chin. “And you're sure it has nothing to do with Maureen York?”
“Nothing,” he barked.
“And it doesn't bother you that she's staying here on the ranch?”
“Hell, no! She stays in her room, and I do as I please. We don't even see each other.”
Anna looked at him with wide, knowing eyes. “Oh, well, no wonder you're so grouchy.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he growled.
Anna quickly grabbed the yearling's lead rope and trotted away from her brother. “Nothing,” she called cheerily over her shoulder.
“Anna, you're crazy!” he yelled back at her.
“That's better than being lonely.”
Lonely? Hell, what's she talking about now? Adam grumbled to himself. Just because she was head over heels in love with her new husband didn't mean he was pining for a mate.
 
“I realize I'm rushing you,” Maureen said to the real-estate agent, “but I need the house as quickly as possible. I'm willing to pay extra. Yes. Whatever it takes to get the papers finalized.”
For the next five minutes, Maureen listened patiently to the agent's excuses and promises. By the time she hung up, she wanted to scream with frustration. It was the third time she'd called the man this week and she figured he was probably as sick of dealing with her as she was with him. But Maureen couldn't help it. She had to get away from this ranch as soon as possible.
Rising from the stuffed armchair, she walked over to the window and pushed back the heavy muslin curtain. Her room didn't have a privileged view of the courtyard but rather looked out at the distant mountain range to the north.
Which was likely for the best, Maureen thought. Each time she caught a glimpse of the shimmering swimming pool, her thoughts turned to Adam and the night they'd dived into the pool and each other.
All this past week she'd tried to put her attraction to him in proper perspective. She kept telling herself it would pass. She promised herself she was only suffering a fleeting, physical malady that would eventually cure itself. But so far, that hadn't happened. Each time Adam approached her, everything came rushing back. The kisses, the hunger, the incredible excitement she'd experienced in his arms.
For the first time in years, Maureen felt helpless and scared. She didn't want any man to have such a powerful effect on her. And to fight it, she'd done the only thing she could think of to do. She kept as much distance as possible between her and Adam. And whenever he'd been near, she'd made sure every word, every look, was cool and professional.
But the strain of acting was beginning to take its toll, and she didn't know how much more she could take. At work she could make herself struggle through the day. But knowing she had to come back to the Bar M in the evenings and face the risk of running into him each time she left her room was too much for her nerves to bear. She had to get into her own house. And fast.
Still, Maureen was sick of cowering in her room every evening like a timid little rabbit. She couldn't let Adam control her every move!
With that thought in mind, she changed out of her dirty work clothes and into clean jeans and a white, short-sleeved camp shirt. The French braid hanging down the middle of her back was ragged, so she brushed it loose and anchored her hair away from her face with a white headband. Then she left her room and headed to the kitchen.
It was still too early for supper. Chloe hadn't yet
returned to the house from the stables, much less started preparing a meal.
Content to settle for something cool to drink, Maureen poured herself a small glass of orange juice. As she sipped, she wondered why Adam's mother didn't hire a live-in cook and housekeeper. The Sanderses could certainly afford the extra help. Just their gas exploration business alone must be worth a staggering amount. Not to mention the ranch.
But from what Maureen could see, neither Chloe nor any of the family lived as if they had money to burn. Including Adam. The only extravagant thing she'd noticed about him was his ostrich boots, and since he'd taken his pocketknife to one of them, they were hardly anything to flaunt.
A door behind her opened and closed. Maureen turned away from the refrigerator just in time to see Adam entering the kitchen. Her fingers unconsciously tightened on the glass in her hand, and her chin lifted.
“Hello, Maureen.”
The softly spoken words took her by complete surprise. The two of them had already talked earlier that morning at work. Their conversation had been brief, to the point and, for the most part, agreeable. He'd greeted her coolly and she'd returned the brisk hello with an even shorter one. So what did this new greeting mean?
“Hello,” she returned.
He moved into the room, and her heart hammered as her gaze slipped up and down the length of him. His faded jeans were dusty, the thighs spotted with stains. The front of his pale blue shirt was dark with sweat, while the sleeves were rolled to his elbows. A rusty shadow of beard covered his jaw and upper lip.
And as Maureen looked at him, she knew she was seeing sex appeal in its rawest form.
“Looks like you've been working,” she said.
He opened a cabinet door and took down a glass. As he approached the refrigerator, Maureen moved a few steps aside.
“My mother and sister allowed me to help in the stables this evening,” he said.
“Allowed?”
Seeing the curious arch to her brow, Adam knew his statement had puzzled her. “Maybe no one's bothered to explain to you that my mother and sister raise and train racehorses. And they're very picky about whom they let near them.”
“Even you?”
She sounded incredulous, and he grunted with dry amusement. “Yeah. Even me.”
“Aren't you a horseman?”
He filled his glass with water from the door dispenser and took several long swallows before he answered. “I grew up on a horse. And I suppose I can handle one as well as the next man. But racehorses are a different matter entirely. I don't have the patience for their hot temperaments.”
“I can believe that,” she murmured.
He shot her a wry glance. “Surely you don't think I'm high-strung.”
She took a sip of her juice, then carefully licked her lips. Adam's gaze followed the lazy movement of her tongue and he tried not to groan out loud. There was hardly a minute in the day that didn't go by without his thinking of making love to Maureen York. And he was beginning to wonder just how much time it was going to take to cure him of the mental torture.
“I think...you're always champing at the bit.”
In spite of everything, Adam laughed. The sound of pleasure put a tilt to Maureen's lips, and as he looked at her, he realized this was what he'd missed with her this past week. This personal connection was what he needed most.
“It's nice to hear you speaking your mind again.”
She studied him over the rim of her glass. This evening, he was wearing an old battered Stetson. The brim was rolled up on the sides and dipped low in the front. Instead of a band, the crown was circled with sweat stains. Maureen decided the reckless character of the gray hat suited him well.
“What do you mean ‘again'? I always speak my mind.”
“Not with me.”
She studied him guardedly. “I tell you exactly what I think.”
“Yes. About work.”
She needed air, but her lungs unexpectedly refused to work. “Is there anything else...but work?”
He leaned over and placed his glass on a nearby counter, then took a few steps closer to her. Maureen forced herself to breathe deeply and keep her feet rooted to the floor.
“Look, Maureen, I know...” He shook his head, then folded his arms across his chest
BOOK: Millionaire on Her Doorstep
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