Lonergan's Secrets. Maureen Child

some of his friends go to the senior center in Fresno on Fridays.” She paused and sighed. “At least, he used to.”

      “Maybe it’s nothing,” he said, and wasn’t sure which of them he was trying to console.

      “I hope so.”

      He heard the hope in her voice and was touched that she cared so deeply. “You really love him, don’t you?”

      “I really do.” She turned her back on the stove and faced him. “Look, Sam.” She said his name firmly, as if forcing herself to make a connection that she really wasn’t interested in. “You’re here to see your grandfather and I’m glad. For his sake.”

      He shifted, pushing away from the counter to stand on his own two feet. “But…?”

      “But…” she said, turning for the stove and the pan that was beginning to smoke, “I think that we should try to stay out of each other’s way while you’re here.”

      “Is that right?” He stepped up alongside her and he felt tension ripple between them. Damn it. He didn’t need this. Didn’t want it. And he’d had every intention of steering clear of the little housekeeper. Until she’d suggested it.

      Maggie stirred the scrambled eggs quickly, flipping them over and over again in the cast-iron skillet until they were a golden-brown and dry, just the way Jeremiah liked them. She tried to keep her mind on her cooking, but with Sam standing so close, it wasn’t easy.

      She’d made up her mind last night that the one sure way to protect her place on this ranch was to stay out of the way this summer. She didn’t want to give any of the Lonergan cousins reason to think that their grandfather would be better off with someone other than her taking care of him.

      She’d lain awake in her bed most of the night, thinking about this place and what it meant to her. About the old man who had become her family.

      And if she were to be completely honest, sometime around dawn she’d thought about Sam. About the way she’d felt when he’d looked at her walking naked from the water.

      About the swirl of heat that had swept through her, making the chill wind nothing more than a whisper. And she’d wondered what it would feel like to have him touch her, smooth his hands over her skin, dip his fingers into her—

      “The eggs are burning.”

      “What?” She blinked, stared at the pan and instinctively used her free hand to push it off the flame.

      Instantly pain bristled on her palm and she dropped the spatula to cradle her left hand against her chest. Tears clouded her eyes and a whimper squeaked past her lips.

      “Damn it!” Sam set his coffee cup on the stove, grabbed her left hand, looked at it, then dragged her with him across the kitchen to the sink. He turned on the cold water and held her hand beneath the icy stream. Instantly the pain subsided and she sighed.

      “What the hell were you thinking?”

      “I don’t know,” she said, wiggling her fingers in an effort to pull her hand free of his tight grasp. It didn’t work. “I just—”

      “Doesn’t look bad,” he said, smoothing his fingers over the palm of her hand with a tenderness that touched something deep inside her. “Hold still and let me be sure.”

      The doctor in him took over, she noticed, as the cranky man became suddenly all business.

      Then something shifted. Something changed.

      His touch became less professional and more… personal. He turned her hand beneath the flow of water, inspecting every inch of her skin. And Maggie closed her eyes against the twin sensations rushing through her. The cold of the water numbed her even as the heat of Sam’s touch engulfed her. Her breath staggered a little as she felt his fingertips glide across her wet skin with a gentleness that she’d never known before.

      She opened her eyes to find him staring at her. Their gazes locked and a thread of something warm and unspoken drew tight between them. Her breath staggered out of her lungs and her heartbeat thundered in her ears. After what felt like a small eternity, she couldn’t bear the tension-filled silence anymore. Mouth dry, voice croaking, she asked, “Is my hand okay?”

      “You were lucky.” His voice was a low growl of sound that seemed to reverberate around the room. “There’s no blistering.”

      “Good,” she managed to say while she locked her knees so they wouldn’t wobble and give out on her. God. Was the air really hot? Or was it just her own blood boiling? Oh, yeah, going to keep her distance this summer. Nice start to that plan.

      His fingers continued to stroke and soothe her skin and she felt that touch all the way to the center of her. Strange. She’d never experienced anything like this before. A simple touch shouldn’t turn her insides to mush.

      At last, he turned off the water and reached for a dish towel. Holding her hand in his, he used the soft linen to blot her skin dry. Then he lifted his gaze to hers again, and Maggie felt a jolt of something amazing pass between them just before he dropped her hand as if it was a rattler and took a step back.

      “You’ll be fine,” he said, pushing one hand through his hair. “Just be more careful, okay?”

      “I usually am.”

      “Right.” He paused, took a breath and said, “Look, about last night—”

      Her head snapped up and her gaze locked with his. “What?”

      He studied her for a long minute before lowering his gaze. “Nothing. Never mind. Probably better all around if we just forgot last night ever happened.”

      Sure. Pretend he hadn’t seen her naked. No problem. “Probably would.”

      “Yeah.” He tossed the towel to the counter, then shoved both hands into the back pockets of his jeans, as if unwilling to risk touching her again. “I’m thinking you’re right about something, too. Better if we just stayed out of each other’s way this summer.”

      “Okay.” Maggie was still struggling to even out her breath and convince her heart to slide down back into her chest where it belonged. Apparently, though, Sam Lonergan had much quicker recuperative powers. Because he could pretend all he wanted—she knew he’d felt something as powerful as she had.

      “Fine. Then we’re agreed.” He glanced around the room as if he didn’t remember where he was. Then, shaking his head, he crossed the room and grabbed up his coffee cup. Stalking to the counter, he refilled it, then passed her on his way out of the room. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at her. “I’m going to grab a quick shower. Then I’m headed into Coleville. Want to talk to Jeremiah’s doctor.”

      She nodded, but he was already leaving the room with steps so quick his feet might have been on fire. Apparently she wasn’t the only one a little flustered by what had just happened.

      She’d thought that Sam Lonergan could be a threat to the home she loved so much.

      But she hadn’t expected him to be an entirely different kind of threat to her sanity.

      Four

      He took an ice-cold shower.

      It didn’t help.

      Damn it, things were going to be hard enough this summer without worrying about the sexy little housekeeper with whiskey-colored eyes and fragile hands.

      Slathering shaving cream on his face, Sam stared into the mirror and dragged his razor across his cheeks, losing himself in the feel of cold steel against his skin. And still he could feel Maggie’s hand cupped in his. He hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t expected to find a woman who made him feel a little too much and want a little too much more.

      Finished shaving, he bent his head, scooped water over his face, then stood up and glared at his reflection. Water cascaded down his