And they had nowhere else to go.
She had no choice. She had to let him stay. And damn him, he knew it. It was clear in the way he was looking at her now, with that self-satisfied expression in his eyes, a half smile curving his mouth.
Go ahead and smile, Dakota, she told him silently. We’ll see who ends up staying. And it won’t be you.
“Give Ethan the room next to Ben’s,” she told Serenity. “Ben’s been using it to pile up what he doesn’t want to put away, but we can clean it out soon enough.” An idea struck her and she turned to Jack. “I’ll take you to your room.”
Not liking the sudden lift in her tone, Jack bent to take Ethan’s tattered bag, but the boy snatched it up.
“Don’t touch it,” Ethan said. “I can carry it myself.”
Jack opened his mouth to make a comment on Ethan’s manners, but the flash of disapproval in Hallie’s eyes stopped him. He wasn’t going to give her something else to argue with him about.
Instead, he inclined his head and swept a hand toward the kitchen door. “After you, then, Miss Hal.”
“This isn’t a room, it’s a stall.” Unwilling to go through the doorway, Jack glanced around the tiny, cluttered space Hallie had led him to.
“You’ve just been spoiled by too many fancy hotels,” she said, strolling to the window to lift the shade. “It’s fine. It used to be the nursery for Ben and me. Now it just needs a little sorting through and sprucing up.” She yanked the pull cord and the shade flew up, scattering dust motes in the rays of late-afternoon sunlight streaming into the musty, long-neglected room.
Waving away the cloud of dust, she turned and smiled sweetly at Jack. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
Jack sighed. “I’m not company.”
“As far as I’m concerned you are. So don’t get too comfortable.”
A few long strides took Jack across the small room, though he had to dodge a shabby wooden chest and a rocking chair with no seat as he went. He stopped when he stood less than a breath away from her. Meeting her nose to nose, he was pleased to see her false smile quickly fade, replaced by wariness.
He smiled, slow and easy. “Now, I think your joke is real amusing, honey, but it’s been a long day and I’m ready for a shave and some dinner.”
He was so close Hallie was forced to either tilt her head and look directly at his face or stare at his shirt buttons. She chose to meet his gaze squarely, immediately wishing she hadn’t.
His eyes, a warm, golden brown, reflected his smile and the laughter running through it. But she had the feeling he was inviting her to share with him the humor of the situation they found themselves in.
For one crazy moment, Hallie wanted to. He made it so easy and, she admitted, so tempting. She imagined he would be like that with a woman he wanted, and that it would be hard to say no, especially if he touched her.
The instant the thought registered Hallie sucked in a breath, so suddenly she drew in a lungful of dust and started to cough. What on earth was she thinking? She would never let a man like Dakota touch her, never.
“Are you all right?” Jack asked. He put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Can I get you some water? The dust in here is as thick as a dirt devil.”
Hallie shook her head, swallowing hard. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
But it wasn’t. It was definitely something. And she didn’t want to have anything to do with it or with him.
“Let’s get out of here before we both choke on the dirt,” Jack said, steering her out the door with the hand grasping her shoulder. Outside, he turned her so both his hands held her, and he studied her face. “Can we at least settle the sleeping arrangements without a fight? I’m not asking for the master bedroom. I’m sure that’s yours. I just want someplace bigger—and cleaner.”
To Jack’s surprise, the fight seemed to drain out of Hallie all at once. She wetted her lips, swallowed hard again and finally found her voice. It came out rough and uncertain, and strangely soft for her. “I don’t use the master bedroom. After Pa died, I just…I left it the same as he and Ma had it. I have my own room.”
Jack’s hands tightened briefly on her shoulders. “Okay, not that room then. What’s left besides it?”
Hallie tried to ignore the pleasing, disturbing warmth of his touch by telling herself Jack Dakota practiced charm as easily as he breathed. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that he did seem to at least be trying to make some kind of peace between them.
“Oh, go ahead and take Pa’s room,” she blurted out, at the same time she pulled away from him. “The moths and the mice are going to chew everything to shreds if someone doesn’t move in there soon, anyhow.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to have it yourself?”
“No, I like the way the sun hits my pillow at dawn. Somehow I don’t imagine you’d appreciate that much.”
“Depends on who’s sharing my pillow,” he said, the rogue in him returning to tease her.
“No one here will, except maybe the cat,” Hallie retorted.
Jack only smiled, thinking of an image of Hallie asleep, her wild mass of hair tangled around her, the early-morning sun kissing her face. She would look softer then, gentled by the night’s rest. She might even be pretty, without her claws at the ready and her expression so serious.
“You’ll be getting used to seeing the sun rise soon enough if you intend to run this ranch,” she was saying.
“And I’ll learn to like it—in about twenty years. But for now, if you’ll just point me in the right direction, I’ll get settled in.”
“Two doors down the hall on the left.”
“Two?” Jack raised a brow at the flush creeping into her face. “What’s next door?”
Hallie wanted to look away, but instead found her eyes riveted to his. “My room.”
“Well, now.” He cocked his head slightly, a slash of afternoon sunlight catching every shade from pale ale to brandy in his hair. “That’s convenient, seeing as we’ll be partners.”
“Damn you, Dakota.” Hallie turned her back on him, wishing he would just disappear. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Temper, darlin’,” he said, laughing. He started past her in the direction she’d indicated, pausing to grin at her over his shoulder. “And watch your language. I don’t allow talk like that under my roof.”
After leaving Hallie, Jack found the bedroom she’d given him, then retrieved his bags from where he’d dropped them by the front door. Leaving them unopened in his room, he went in search of Ethan.
He found the boy in his new room, alone, curled up on the bed. He was toying with a worn-out shred of glossy yellow cloth. But when he noticed Jack in the doorway, Ethan clenched his fingers around the cloth and hurriedly sat up.
Jack hesitated before moving to sit down next to his son. “I came to see if I could help you get moved in.”
“Nope.” Ethan stared at his hands, clenched together in his lap.
Feeling awkward and uncertain of himself for the first time in as long as he could remember, Jack scoured his brain for something to say. His brand of charm wouldn’t