The Rancher And The Nanny. Caroline Cross

      Lissy nodded and scrambled into a sitting position.

      “What are you up to? Coloring?”

      The child nodded again, her face registering nearcomical surprise when Eve crossed the rug and sank onto the floor beside her.

      “Is it all right for me to look?”

      The little girl dropped her gaze, suddenly shy. “Okay.”

      Eve studied the drawings spread out before her. One was of a tall man with dark hair—clearly John—who stood so much larger than life that he dwarfed the mountain behind him. Another was of an eagle soaring across the sky. And the third, the one that Lissy was obviously working on now, was of a house at night, bright yellow light pouring from the windows beneath a star-spangled sky. Tellingly, there was a dark-haired man framed in one window and a little blond girl in another, both quite alone.

      Eve’s heart clenched, even as she managed a cheery smile. “These are lovely. Did you know, my friend Chrissy is the sister of your teacher, Miss Abrams?”

      “She is?”

      “Uh-huh. And I understand that Miss Abrams thinks you’re one of the very best artists in her class. I can see why. You draw wonderful pictures.”

      “Oh.” The little girl’s face filled with surprised pleasure. “I like to color.” She glanced down self-consciously at her lap.

      Eve considered that small, bowed head. In addition to her comments about the child’s artistic talent, Pam Abrams had also reportedly said that John’s daughter could use a woman in her life. At the time, Eve had just assumed—foolishly, she now admitted—that the child must be a miniature version of her father, and what she needed was a civilizing influence.

      It didn’t take a genius to realize she’d missed the mark. Or to discern that in sharp contrast to her selfassured, self-possessed father, what Lissy was most in need of was someone to give her their undivided attention, to build her up, to boost her confidence and be her champion.

      That—and a fashion makeover. Eve swallowed a wry grimace. Just as she’d told John, the youngster had indeed changed out of her school clothes. Now, instead of that awful yellow dress, she was wearing a drab red sweatshirt that sagged at the neck and fell nearly to her knees over a faded, too-short pair of faded pink leggings. The latter exposed her bony little ankles, which protruded above a pair of ruffled lavender anklets and worn white mary-janes.

      Eve wondered what on earth John was thinking to allow his child to go around looking like a pint-size bag lady. For someone so prickly proud, it seemed out of character. Then again, she didn’t really know him, a fact that was becoming increasingly clear with every hour that passed.

      “Oh, I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

      The child’s eyes widened. “You do?”

      “Yes, I do.” She reached into her vest pocket, pulled out a small, gift-wrapped package and handed it to Lissy. “It’s something my granddad gave me when I came to live with him,” she said softly, watching as the child carefully began to remove the pink and gold paper. “I thought, since you just recently came to live with your dad, that you might like to have it.”

      Lissy stared down at the small, velvet gift box she’d unwrapped. Chewing her lower lip in concentration, she pried up the top. “Ohhh!”

      Lying on a bed of midnight satin was a small gold horse pendant, threaded onto a sturdy but pretty gold chain.

      Lissy looked at her, her eyes as round as pennies. “Oh, it’s so pretty,” she breathed.

      Eve smiled. “Would you like to try it on?”

      The child nodded. “Yes, please.”

      Eve picked up the necklace, opened the clasp and leaned forward. “Max, my granddad, told me—” she fastened the chain around the child’s delicate neck, then sat back to admire the effect “—that wearing this makes you an official Montana cowgirl.”

      Lissy touched her hand to the necklace. “It does?”

      “Absolutely.”

      “Even…even if you’re afraid of horses?”

      Eve considered the sudden hope on that little face and added teach to ride and revamp wardrobe to her quickly growing list of things to do. “Even then,” she said firmly, rewarded by one of Lissy’s shy, tremulous smiles.

      She smiled back, then looked up as an inexplicable little tingle warned her they were no longer alone. Tall and imposing, John stood silently in the doorway. Their gazes met and to her shock, for the briefest moment she could have sworn there was something in his eyes that was dark and hungry.

      As if she were seventeen again, her body responded instantly. Her breath caught, her skin flushed, her nipples beaded. Worse, she felt an overwhelming urge to climb to her feet, close the distance between them and indulge herself in the luxury of exploring that big, hard body—

      “Look what Eve gave me!”

      Lissy’s awe-filled exclamation jerked John’s gaze toward his daughter. As if released from a spell, Eve snapped back to reality. What on earth had just happened? she wondered, a shiver shuddering through her.

      Whatever it was, Lissy thankfully seemed oblivious. Climbing to her feet, the child approached her father and shyly held up the pendant. “See?”

      John looked from the necklace to his daughter’s upturned face. “It’s real nice,” he murmured.

      The little girl smiled with surprised pleasure and his own expression seemed to lighten fractionally.

      He straightened. “I’ve got to get back to work but I shouldn’t be too long.” His blue eyes once again found Eve. They were cool and polite, nothing more. “Like I said before, I’d like to eat around six.”

      “Fine.”

      “If you need anything, my cell phone number’s posted next to the telephone in the kitchen.”

      She forced herself to smile. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll manage, won’t we, Lissy?”

      The child’s head bobbed. “Uh-huh.”

      “All right, then.” With a brusque nod, he turned on his heel and left.

      It wasn’t very mature of her, but in light of her inability to control her rampaging hormones, Eve was glad to see him go.

      Four

      Eve was seated at the kitchen counter when John walked out of his bedroom Friday morning.

      His step faltered as his gaze raked over her, taking note of the slender line of her back, the taut curve of her fanny, the bare feet he could see propped on the bottom rung of the bar stool. With her shining blond hair and sun-kissed skin, she looked all-American exotic, as if she ought to be hanging ten on a beach somewhere.

      Not that he gave a damn. Shoving his shirttail into his jeans, he told himself that the sudden tension humming through him was nothing more than annoyance. Growing up at the orphanage, privacy had been nonexistent; in the years since he’d left it, he’d come to treasure his morning solitude.

      Somehow he doubted Eve would understand, however. With her upbringing, she probably believed he’d be thrilled to see her. God knew, she hadn’t held back from making her presence felt in the brief time that she’d been here. Small reminders of her were all over his house, from the bouquet of fall flowers in the center of the dining room table, to the flimsy Italian leather shoes lined up next to his boots in the mudroom, to the faint scent of her perfume that seemed to linger long after she’d left a room.

      Still, he was willing to concede that so far she was managing a lot better than he’d expected. The house was clean and tidy. Dinner the past four nights had been delicious. Most importantly, she seemed to really be making an effort with Lissy.

      And