[Double-C Ranch, Men 02] The Rancher and the Redhead by Allison Leigh

Author:Allison Leigh [Leigh, Allison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781459267114
Google: xU70ZXyKNOYC
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-07-15T07:00:00+00:00

It was not quite evening when Jaimie came across Matthew, sitting at the table in the kitchen, drinking a hot mug of coffee. She braced herself, nearly convinced that he would call off the outing. But he didn’t. He just asked if she was ready, and before she knew what had happened, she was sitting behind him on a big, hulking snowmobile, flying across the snow-covered fields.

It took longer to reach the cabin than she’d expected, and if it weren’t for the searing warmth of Matthew as she huddled close to him on the ride, she would have been frozen to the bone.

He, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed by the cold at all as he ushered her inside the rough-hewn cabin. He lit two gas lanterns and laid a match to the firewood stacked in the cabin’s stone fireplace.

Shivering inside her coat, Jaimie stood near the fire, anxious to feel its heat.

The flames started ticking at the kindling and soon the warmth of the fire battled the cold interior of the cabin and he rose and turned to her.

“Your nose is red.”

She managed a smile, even though her cheeks would surely crack. “The rest of me is probably red, too.” She scooted closer to the fire, holding out her mittened hands. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she said around her teeth which were chattering annoyingly. “We still have to drive back again.”

“You should have worn your gloves we bought,” he said as he tugged off her mittens and folded her cold hands in his.

She sighed at the welcoming heat on her hands. “Hey, come on. You don’t like my purple mittens?”

He tucked her palms against his thick, knit sweater. “They do seem to suit you,” he admitted. “Your Arizona blood just hasn’t acclimated itself yet to Wyoming winters.”

“You’re telling me.” She looked around the cabin with forced interest. Truthfully, she was far too interested in the broad chest where her hands lay sandwiched between wheat-colored knit wool and his callused, warm palms. Finally she couldn’t take it a second longer and slipped her hands free with a murmured thanks. “The ride was fun, even if it was cold,” she admitted. “Have you always had snowmobiles?”

“For the past ten, fifteen years or so.”

She nodded. “Do you always use them for work?”

“Tonight’s not work,” he pointed out after a moment.

She smiled faintly. She was still chilled, but she walked around the cabin, anyway. Considering the Clay wealth, she was rather surprised at the sparseness of it. A single bed was situated against one wall. Near the fireplace, a battered sofa and two chairs faced each other, separated by a rough wood chest that bore the obvious marks of boot heels. The only item seemingly out of place was the telephone that sat on a three-legged stool next to the bed.

“So this is where Squire comes to go fishing, then.”

Matthew nodded and moved his coat and gloves from the couch to hang them from the empty hooks on the wall by the door.

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