“True. What do you suggest?” Kelly asked, regarding him doubtfully. “That we move to Boston?”
She sounded testy. He figured that was because she knew she couldn’t argue with his logic. “Don’t be absurd,” he chided. “We’ll commute. Weekdays in Houston. Weekends, holidays and vacations on the ranch.”
She didn’t look nearly as bowled over by the proposed arrangement as he’d hoped.
“Uh-huh. And who is supposed to work the ranch while I’m in Houston?”
He hadn’t considered all the details, but he’d learned long ago to be quick on his feet in a discussion of this importance. “You have a hand working for you already. We’ll hire an experienced foreman.”
“I can’t afford to hire someone.”
Jordan was getting a headache. Clearly Kelly didn’t know the meaning of the word compromise. She wasn’t shifting her position by so much as an inch as near as he could tell. “But I can.”
She was already shaking her head. “I promised myself that I would make a go of the ranch on my own,” she insisted.
“Why does it have to be totally on your own? Why can’t you accept a little help?”
“Because it’s my fault it’s in the state it’s in,” she snapped, then looked shocked by what she’d revealed.
“Why on earth would you think you’re to blame?”
“Because if I’d stayed here and helped out instead of running off to Houston, things would never have gotten this bad.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he declared. “Besides, that’s all in the past. Let’s deal with the here and now.”
“Okay,” she said agreeably. “Maybe by next year I could afford help, but not now. That’s the reality of the here and now.”
The woman was stubborn as a mule. He wondered if she’d been born that way or if she’d picked it up from hanging around with him and his brothers. Goodness knew, they all had stubbornness to spare.
“Oh, for pity’s sake,” he snapped impatiently. “I’ll loan you the money.”
“No bank would take a risk on me,” she countered coolly. “Why should you?”
“Because it’s the only way I know to get you to budge from this place,” he said, thoroughly exasperated.
There were moments—and now was definitely one of them—when he thought he might have been deranged to suggest this whole marriage idea. He and Kelly hadn’t had a quiet, serene exchange in weeks. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep.
And too damned many of his waking moments he’d been rock-hard just thinking about her. He supposed that feeling passion for the woman he’d decided to marry was a good thing. It was just that it had come about so unexpectedly. One minute he’d been planning to lead a nice, tame existence with a safe, uncomplicated pal, a woman who shared his values and his history. The next he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about seducing her, about running his hands over her body, about the taste of her lips, the shape of her breasts, the texture of her skin.
He groaned. Talk about complications! If he so much as looked at her tonight, he was liable to make love to her here and now, on top of the kitchen table. His decision to crowd her had clearly backfired. He was the one in turmoil, while she looked calm as could be.
He shoved his chair back from the table and abruptly stood. “I have to go,” he said, his voice choked, his gaze very carefully averted.
“I thought you were going to spend the night here.”
On the sofa? Or, as she had suggested, in the guest room? Less than thirty feet from that king-size bed of hers? Not if there was an armed posse surrounding the place and he was the target. He bolted for the door, not certain exactly where he was headed. He wasn’t sure he was up to one of his father’s inquisitions about Cody.
“I’m going to stay with Luke and Jessie,” he announced. The drive to their place ought to be just about long enough to cool him off and it would keep him out of range of his father’s anger for another night.
Kelly didn’t offer another protest. Oddly enough, he thought he caught the faintest hint of a smile right before she closed the door behind him. He had the feeling he didn’t want to know what that had been about.
Chapter Eight
“Ginger, I want you to cancel all my meetings for the rest of the week,” Jordan told his secretary when he called Houston first thing on Monday morning. It was only 8:00 a.m., but he knew she’d already been at her desk for at least half an hour. Most of the time she even beat him to the office and he was an early starter.
“You’re going on your honeymoon,” she guessed, sounding far more pleased than she had when he’d told her about his engagement to Rexanne. “You must have finally talked Kelly into getting married. Congratulations, boss!”
“I wish,” he said dully.
“She hasn’t said yes yet?”
The shock in Ginger’s voice gave him some encouragement. Obviously she thought he was a catch, even if Kelly did not. “Not even maybe,” he admitted.
“Well, for heaven’s sake, boss, you can’t just shut down business on a whim. How long do you expect it to take to persuade her?”
“You’re a woman. You tell me.”
“Did you do like I said? Did you buy some of that French perfume? Did you tell her you loved her?”
Jordan supposed his silence was answer enough, because Ginger gave a little snort of disgust. “Jeez, boss, you’re missing the most obvious things. Perfume is equated with sex, at least the right one is. And every woman wants the man she’s marrying to be crazy in love with her. Stop being so stodgy and do something over the top for a change. Dazzle her.”
“But this is Kelly,” he protested. “We’ve known each other forever. She doesn’t expect all that hearts and flowers sentiment. She’d probably laugh in my face.”
Ginger sighed heavily. “Boss, I hate to
