Sarah swung open the door to Lane’s cabin and ran her hand up and down the wall to the right of the door, until she found the light switch. She hadn’t wanted to stay here. She hadn’t wanted to come to Two Shot either, but seeing more of Katie and Kelsey had made the concept of melding her two lives a little more bearable. She’d been looking forward to being there all week, really being a part of their day-to-day lives.
Now that her sister didn’t need her, she realized there wasn’t much point to all her panic about her job. Without Kelsey and Katie to take care of, her work seemed kind of pointless. She’d thought it was about money and security for herself, but here she was, homeless and on the verge of being unemployed, and she didn’t really care.
But Eric was counting on her. She’d been hired to do a job, and she was going to get it done.
She flicked on the light switch and her jaw dropped. The cabin really was a love nest. A huge stone fireplace dominated the far wall, surrounded by a cozy grouping of two chairs and a love seat upholstered in a warm-toned Native American pattern. The bright fabric contrasted with subdued throw rugs in red and ochre, and while the light she’d turned on was a slightly tasteless antler chandelier, it hung over a golden oak dining table that was polished to a high shine. Soft woven blankets that complemented the upholstery were draped over the back of the love seat and one of the chairs.
But what made it a love nest was the candles. They were everywhere, their wicks and wax in various stages that proved they’d been used frequently. She pictured the golden log walls lit by flickering golden light and thanked God and good luck Lane wasn’t there.
She’d seen him in the cool silver light of the moon. What would he look like in candlelight? She pictured a warm glow glossing his muscled shoulders, shadows defining the ridges of his torso, and then she was in the danger zone.
Get out of there, she told herself. Think about his face.
Obediently, her mind’s eye focused on the way his deep-set blue eyes would dance in the flicker of candle flames. Something much hotter than a candle flame shimmied around inside her when she thought of the jut of his cheekbones, the hard set of his jaw, and the sensitive lips that were such a subtle contradiction to the harsh masculinity of the rest of his face. Then she remembered what he’d done to her with those lips and decided she ought to stick with the torso.
The truth was, she shouldn’t be thinking about Lane at all. The man accused her of sleeping with his brother, for God’s sake. She’d thought he had feelings for her. She’d even thought he understood her. But clearly he’d just seen her as another floozy.
And Eric had said his brother was headed to another rodeo, all the way down in Texas—so he’d probably move on to a new floozy by tomorrow.
At least she could be sure he wouldn’t show up at the ranch—not for two weeks. She had fourteen days to win hearts and minds in Two Shot. Fourteen days with no interference from the other side of the argument.
So why was her heart fluttering like a bird in a cage as she looked around the comfy cabin? Lane wasn’t going to show up here. Sure, his mark was all over the place: in the rodeo posters on the wall, in the prize saddle mounted on a carved sawhorse in the corner, in the framed photos of him with various rodeo royals like Ty Murray and Trevor Brazile—but he was on the road and she was on her own.
And if he did turn up, he’d be angry, not amorous. He already thought she was having an affair with his brother, and he’d be even madder when he discovered she was working behind his back to get the townspeople on her side. By the time he got home he’d have lost the battle without getting a chance to fight. And Lane didn’t like to lose.
Judging from the intensity of all his other emotions, his anger would not be pretty. The notion should make her cringe, but it actually kind of turned her on. What the hell was wrong with her? She was picturing a six-four cowboy coming to the door of this