“Thank you for offering,” she said. “I should remember to leave some clothes here in future.” And with great determination, ignoring the tortured pounding of her heart, she started toward the house.
Noah’s hand on her arm stopped her. The man must walk like a cougar. She hadn’t even heard him coming. She looked up into his eyes.
“What exactly is it about my daughter that bothers you so much?”
They stood there, connected, their eyes locked for several seconds. Then Ivy blinked.
“How much time do you spend on this ranch, Noah?”
He raised one dark eyebrow. “Most of it. Why?”
“I see. Well, that explains things.”
He looked perplexed. “Maybe you should explain to me.”
She took a deep breath. “You know that I became a model after I left here?”
“Of course. Everybody knows that.”
“But you don’t know anything about me beyond that.”
“I’ve been a bit busy. I must have let my copy of Elle expire.”
“Oh, that was wicked, Noah.”
“I try.”
Ivy almost smiled, except…now came the tough part. She hesitated, then opened her mouth to speak.
He shook his head. “I don’t know anything, Ivy, because I don’t tune in to gossip. Plus…I really had no right to ask that question. You’re here to work, and your skills and dependability are all that matter. I shouldn’t have gone all Papa Bear on you and asked. I retract my question.”
Somehow that made it easier. “No, I want to explain. I don’t want you to think that I dislike her. It’s just—when I told you that modeling wasn’t an option anymore…I was in a car accident a couple of years ago. That’s where I got these scars.” She touched her face. Some days she missed the profession she’d loved, but there were things so much more important than being pretty. She would lose more, give more, if only…
“My husband was killed,” she rushed on, “and…and my little boy was…he was, too. So please don’t think I have anything against your Lily, Noah. It’s not that at all. I just…” She bit down to keep her lips from trembling.
“Ivy, I’m—damn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” He slid his hand up her arm and across her cheek. He cupped her jaw in his palm. “I’m so sorry. Next time you just tell me to shut up.”
Ivy felt as if her body was being taken to another plane. She was aware of every inch of her skin Noah touched. And his concern—that rough quality in his voice—made her want to lean close, touch him, too. She hadn’t had anyone other than doctors touch her in two years.
That thought stopped everything. If she reacted to the sensation of Noah’s skin against her own, it was just because this was the first time. She struggled for something smart-mouthed to say, anything to distract her attention from the physical contact between them. What had he said to her?
She found a tiny half smile somewhere. “I’ve never had a boss tell me that I should tell him to shut up.”
“You’ve probably never had a boss who made such a boneheaded misstep.”
Finally she found her footing and gave him a real, whole smile. “You’ve clearly never been a model if you think that.”
The laugh that emanated from his body traveled through his skin, the vibration pulsing in his fingers that were still touching her face. As if he realized what he was doing to her, he lowered his arm. “Yeah, no modeling for a rough guy like me.”
Although, in her mind, he could name his price if he went into modeling. Women would empty their piggy banks just to get him to take his shirt off.
“I’ll just go to the house and get something for you,” he said. “There’s an empty crew house over the rise. It’s not much, but you can use it while you’re here.”
“I don’t like acting weak,” she confessed.
“Lady, you hugged Bruiser. You took a shove from a cow that weighs ten times what you do. Weak is not a word I’d use with you.”
“What words would you use with me?” Where had that come from? “That came out wrong. Let’s just not go there,” she corrected.
“Too late,” he said with a wink. “I have three words to describe you right now. Stubborn, sassy and…in need of clean jeans.”
“That’s more than three words.”
He chuckled. “Roll with it. Ranching demands flexibility.”
Noah turned to leave. Then he quickly turned back. “You’re bound to run across her now and then while you’re here. Can you handle it?”
Ivy nodded tightly. “I’m so sorry about this, Noah. I’m sure your child is sweet, and I would never want to do anything that would hurt her. I just…I’m still working things through, and right now…”
He held up a hand. “You don’t have to explain. If anything happened to Lily, I’d be insane. Everything I do, say or am right now and for the next twenty years or so revolves around her. Every decision I make deals with her. I never forget that, so while I can’t possibly put myself in your shoes, I can understand why being around her is a problem for you. I—you know how temporary this job is, don’t you?”
“Yes. I don’t need it to be anything else. I’m not staying.”
“Good. I can’t and won’t hide my child away, but since you won’t be here long, we can make concessions that wouldn’t work out if you were long-term. What I’m saying is that I’ll do my best to make any contact between you as brief as possible. Will that work for you?”
“Yes.”
She would make it work. Somehow she would manage to make all of this work.
And she would not think of Noah as anything other than her boss. She definitely wouldn’t allow herself to remember how much she had liked having his fingers against her skin.
“Yeah, I’ll get right to not remembering that,” she muttered to herself as he strode toward the house and she tried not noticing how long and strong his legs were.
Why had she ever imagined that working for Noah would be smart?
Noah carried the jeans out to Ivy. Just pretend you don’t even know that in a few minutes she’s going to slip out of her clothes and pour her long, slender body into these, Ballenger, he told himself, struggling to do just that.
“They might be a bit short,” he told her, his fingertips brushing hers as he handed them over. A zing of male awareness ricocheted through his body at the touch. Ignore that, he ordered himself.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Thank you,” she said softly.
“Here, I’ll show you the cottage. It’s been empty for a while, so I’m not too sure how things look inside.”
They looked pretty bad. When he opened the door and saw the layer of dust and the sad and shabby furnishings, the first thought he had was that she had been a model. This would look like a hovel to her.
“It needs work,” he said, stating the obvious.
“I like work.”