The Stranger in Her Bed Page 9

  She was not, however, going to kiss him back.

  Chapter Seven

  Anna crawled out of bed with a curse and a groan. She didn't want to go to work, and not because of her physical condition; she simply didn't want to deal with Ethan today.

  And that made her mad. She usually loved facing whatever surprises the mill might throw at her, having the satisfaction of knowing she could meet every demand and probably win. So why couldn't she consider her new boss just another challenge? It shouldn't matter that when the light touched his eyes just right they reminded her of liquid steel, or that the man had taken kissing lessons from Cupid himself.

  He was not going to stay in his office where he belonged; he'd be out in her yard, bugging her and her crew, sticking his nose in everything. Especially after last night's kiss, which had been one of those I'm losing this battle so I'll just kiss her kisses that men gave women when they didn't know what else to do. Now Ethan probably would be sticking his nose in her private life as well, because he knew he had curled her toes. She never should have kissed him back. For that matter, she never should have pushed him that far to begin with.

  What had she been thinking?

  He'd broken off the kiss just as soon as he'd felt her respond, and stared down at her with dark, unreadable eyes. And then he had suddenly turned on his heel and walked out of the house, not looking back, not saying a word.

  Anna started dressing in several layers of warm clothes. If the temperature in the house this morning was any indication of the temperature outside, she needed plenty of wool. She could actually see her breath as she put on her long johns, two pairs of socks, a turtleneck, wool pants and a sweatshirt. She hurried downstairs and stirred the fire in the stove just as Bear headed for the door with a whine. Anna opened it to let him out, and nearly got knocked on the nose by Ethan's fist.

  "So, did you catch him?" she asked instead of noticing how particularly handsome he looked this morning.

  "Catch who?"

  "The ghost. There was enough noise coming from the saw shed at two this morning to wake the dead."

  When he merely lifted a brow, Anna rolled her eyes, spun on her heel, and headed to the kitchen. "Great. Tom found me a watchdog who's as deaf as the one I already have."

  Ethan followed her into the kitchen, carrying the old shotgun he'd picked up in the living room. "If you heard the ghost, why didn't you send a shot his way? I would have heard that."

  Anna took the gun away from him and leaned it against the wall in the corner, then filled the teakettle with water to put on the stove. "I don't have shells for the gun," she muttered. "I need to pick some up."

  "Then you should have pounded on my cabin door, and we could have gone after your ghost together."

  She wasn't about to admit that a herd of horses couldn't have dragged her outside. "You're getting cheap rent to go after my ghost."

  There was a moment's silence, then Ethan said, sounding a bit surprised, "You're afraid of the dark."

  "I am not."

  "That's why you haven't bought shotgun shells. That's your excuse for not confronting whoever's snooping around your mill."

  "If I bought shells, then I'd have to shoot them," she growled. "And then I'd have to hire a lawyer to help me explain to a judge that I was defending myself, and I can't afford a lawyer on the salary you pay me."

  "Speaking of which, we're going to be late for work."

  "The only reason I'm going in this morning is to save my crew's jobs," she said over her shoulder as she opened one of the cupboards.

  "And your own," he added, shutting off the burner. He picked up the kettle and poured the boiling water into the two traveling mugs she placed on the counter. "Hey, what are you adding to my tea?" he asked when she put a dropper full of liquid in each of the mugs.

  "It's milk thistle. It's good for your liver."

  He scowled down at his tea. "There's nothing wrong with my liver."

  She opened another bottle, shook out two pills, and handed one to Ethan. "And this is a multivitamin. You should take one every day," she said, opening another bottle and shaking out two more pills. "And this is vitamin E," she explained, handing him one.

  He looked at the two pills in his hand. "I haven't taken vitamins since I was ten."

  Anna popped her own pills in her mouth. "My grand-père and grand-mère on my father's side had the physiques of sixty-year-olds," she said. "If they hadn't died in an auto accident at ninety-four and ninety-three, they probably would have lived to be a hundred. They took herbs and vitamins every day."

  "You really believe this stuff works?" he asked, popping the pills in his mouth. "Maybe your grandparents simply had good genes."

  "Maybe," she acknowledged, taking her tea into the bathroom. She closed the door, set her cup on the shelf, and stared at the woman in the mirror. Damn, she needed to get it together if she hoped to survive working with Ethan.

  She splashed water on her face. When he wasn't haunting her during the day, Ethan was haunting her dreams. Last night she'd dreamt they'd had a candlelit dinner of salmon and fiddleheads in front of a roaring fire. She had been dressed in a prom gown, and he had worn a tux.

  He'd been damn handsome in that tux.

  Anna blinked at herself in the mirror. It had been a guilt dream. She'd kissed Ethan as if he were the only man on earth, and then sat down— alone— to a meal of salmon and fiddleheads that had tasted like sawdust. Then Ethan had walked into her house this morning, all confident and cocky, and already the butterflies were back.

  It was going to be a long day.

  * * *

  "If Loon Cove Lumber is such a dangerous place, why is it okay for Bear to come to work with us?" Ethan asked, frowning at the huge dog sitting on the seat between him and Anna, drooling all over the dash of his truck.

  "Bear's used to being around machinery," she said, turning to give him a satisfied smile.

  Well, she should be feeling smug with her eighty-pound chaperone between them. "What's he going to do all day?" he asked, pushing Bear's head away, then wiping his drool-covered sleeve on the dog.

  "He'll probably sleep in the office with you."

  "Then he's going to be lonely. I'm not staying in the office," Ethan said

  "Somebody's got to line up the shipments of logs," she said. "Here. Stop here," she suddenly said, reaching for her door handle.

  Ethan stopped the truck just as she opened the door. "Where are you going?"

  She got out, fished around in her pocket, and produced a key. "I'm locking the gate," she told him, leaving the door open while she walked to the rear of the truck.

  Ethan shoved Bear's head out of the way and watched in his mirror. Specifically, he watched Anna's sexy little butt sashay down the road to the gate, and decided the woman was put together quite nicely.

  Her lips were nothing to complain about, either.

  Ethan chuckled to himself. She'd goaded him into kissing her last night, and he hadn't let up until she'd responded. But then he'd felt all the blood in his body rush to his groin, and had run from the house as if burned. Not because he hadn't wanted her, but because he had; because she'd felt too good in his arms, smelling of wool and sunshine and tasting like butter.

  It was her damn underwear! Ethan had known he was in trouble the moment he'd spotted that lace the day he'd undressed her, and his libido had been in a downward spiral ever since. Sleeping in her frilly bed for three nights, surrounded by all her feminine stuff, had driven him crazy. How in hell was he supposed to work with her when he knew exactly what was under all those layers of clothes?

  She hadn't said a word when he'd broken off their kiss; she'd simply stood there in the middle of her kitchen, her lips swollen and wet, and stared at him as if he'd just sailed in from another planet. So he'd left before she could slap his face.

  "There. That will keep the honest people out," she said, sliding back in the truck and closing the door.

  Ethan pushed Bear's head aside agai
n to shift out of four-wheel drive, and pulled onto the main road. "Tell me about the resort people trying to buy your land."

  "There's not much to tell, really. A group of Boston investors has been buying up all the land they can around this area to build a resort."

  He looked out his side window, at the mountain they were passing. "And Fox Run Mill is one of the parcels they want?"

  "Yes."

  "Have they made you an offer?"

  "Yup. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

  Ethan snorted. "Not much for prime shoreline."

  "The historians matched their offer."

  "Not bettered it?"

  "No. They think I should want to preserve the mill's heritage or some such nonsense," she said. She smiled over Bear's head. "I'm betting old Samuel Fox would turn over in his grave if either group got that mill."

  "Samuel couldn't have cared about Fox Run too much if he left it to his daughter. He should have left it to his granddaughter, Abby."

  Anna shrugged and remained silent.

  "Where is Madeline Fox?" he asked.

  "She could be on any one of the seven continents, with husband number twelve by now." She looked over and smiled again. "Madeline's a good person, I hear. She just can't seem to sit still long enough to grow roots."

  "She didn't go to Samuel's funeral. My whole family went, and we didn't see either Madeline or Abby."

  Anna merely shrugged again.

  "Why not ask your father for the tax money you owe?"

  She snapped her gaze to his. "Who told you I owe back taxes?" She held up her hand. "Never mind. Tom Bishop, right?"

  "Tom's just worried about you."

  "Not too worried, if he saddled me with you for a tenant."

  "So why not ask Daddy for the money?"

  "Because he didn't want me getting Fox Run in the first place," she said. "He thinks I should just find a good man, get married and have babies, and live happily ever after."

  "He's just being a father, Segee. He can't help it if he wants to see you settled."

  "Is that how you'd treat a daughter? Would you insist that she not have a life of her own, but do what you thought was right for her?"

  He looked back at the road and frowned.

  "What about your niece? Do you expect her to marry a logger, have babies, and never go farther than Greenville all her life?"

  "No."

  "What if she wants to be a businesswoman? Or an astronaut? Would you encourage her to follow her dream?"

  "I'm not a chauvinist. Delaney can be anything she wants."

  She snorted. "Yeah, right. Tell me that when she's nineteen and wants to move to Boston or New York."

  Ethan gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened. "It's not the same," he told her. "You're not wanting to go out and explore the world; you're trying to make this world fit into your mold. And you're trying to fend off some very determined men who have a lot of money at stake."

  "I'm not in any real danger."

  "No? You think your resort people are going to let one stubborn woman get in the way of their plans? What about your ghost?"

  "I don't believe in ghosts."

  "Okay, what about your midnight intruder, then?"

  She dismissed his question with another shrug, then suddenly straightened in her seat. "Why are all the trucks backed up at the gate?" she asked.

  Ethan frowned at the four twenty-two wheelers loaded with logs idling outside the gates of Loon Cove Lumber. "I told them to come back this morning," he said, glaring out the windshield. "Everything around here is jammed tighter than an ice dam. I didn't have anyplace for them to unload."

  The smile she gave him was rather snarky. "Looks like I recovered just in the nick of time."

  Ethan pulled his truck past the waiting loggers, who were scowling at him for keeping them waiting, and parked in Tom Bishop's old space. Anna was out the door and already stepping into the middle of the gathered truckers before he got the engine shut off. Ethan followed at a more leisurely pace, Bear trailing behind him, and stopped beside his rear bumper, amazed when the expression on each driver's face turned from sullen to thankful. To a man, each glare turned into a grin as Anna Segee agreed with every one of their complaints.

  Ethan unlocked and rolled back the large gate. He could see his crew going about their business inside, but not one of them had ventured out to let the loggers in. Anna followed him through the gate, riding on the running board of the lead truck, laughing at something the driver was saying.

  Within minutes Loon Cove Lumber was bustling with chaos. Machinery started up, trucks were unloaded, and both the number one and number two saws began sending sawdust out their chutes like confetti. Ethan walked into his office and threw himself in his chair, lay his head on the desk, and closed his eyes with a frustrated groan.

  Chapter Eight

  Work was going well— likely because her crew was happy to have her back on the job— and Anna was even happier to be working again. When she was at the center of a busy mill yard, all her problems seemed to magically disappear. All except for one; Ethan was still a pain in the neck, alternating between sulking and glaring because everything was running as smoothly as a well-oiled clock.

  "Keith, can I borrow your truck to run into Oak Grove?" Anna asked.

  "Sure, boss lady. The keys are in it. Take it for as long as you need." Keith stopped inspecting the pile of lumber in front of them, wrote something down on his clipboard, and smiled at her. "You can take it home tonight. I'll bum a ride with Davis."

  "Thanks, but I only need it over lunch."

  "I was just headed into town myself," came Ethan's voice from behind her. "I'll ride with you."

  Anna spun around. "I'm taking a two-hour lunch."

  He lifted a brow. "On the clock?"

  "No. On my own time."

  He lifted his other brow. "Your check's going to be small this week."

  Anna patted her leg to call Bear and headed for the gate. "It better not be. I have sick days coming."

  Ethan fell into step beside her. "Did you find a truck for sale? I'll tag along to make sure you don't buy a lemon."

  "I going to the gun shop."

  He spun her around to face him. "You're not really serious about buying a handgun. They're dangerous."

  "Only for the person on the wrong end," she shot back, heading for Keith's truck again.

  Ethan climbed in the passenger's side and fastened his seat belt. "It doesn't take two hours to buy a gun," he said over Bear's head.

  Anna hid her smile by watching for traffic as she pulled out of the parking lot toward Oak Grove. "I'm also taking Bear in for a checkup. I hear Dr. Knox has a gentle way with his four-legged patients, and I can't wait to meet him."

  Silence settled inside the cab of the truck. She knew better than to push Ethan's buttons, but it was so sinfully easy. Besides, she owed him for that mind-blowing kiss that had made her toss and turn in bed until dawn.

  "Knox is a good three inches shorter than you, he's missing most of his hair, and he always smells of antiseptic," Ethan said, pulling Bear down onto his lap to see her. "And he's at least ten years older than you."

  "So he's thirty, then?"

  "I know you're twenty-nine. I have your employment records, remember? Knox is a pudgy gnome."

  Anna finally smiled directly at Ethan. "What do looks have to do with personality? And besides, I hear gnomes are cuddly."

  The look Ethan gave her should have turned Anna to toast, but she merely broadened her smile and pulled into a parking spot in front of the Drooling Moose Café. "I'll meet you back here in two hours," she said, getting out and motioning for Bear to stay put. "I'll bring you back a burger, pup," she said, locking the door and heading to the café.

  Ethan fell into step beside her and ushered her into the bustling restaurant ahead of him. Anna walked to the counter and took the only empty stool available, between an elderly gentleman she didn't know and a woman with two todd
lers that she did know.

  "You've got your hands full, I see," she said with a laugh, snatching a fork away from the two-year-old girl in Jane Trott's lap before she could poke Jane in the eye— who was busy catching the four-year-old boy trying to slide off his stool. "You're still babysitting for your sister, I see. How's her husband doing?"

  Jane looked over, smiled apologetically, and plopped the screaming two-year-old in Anna's lap. "Pete's doing real well. Could you watch Megan for me? Travis needs to go potty."