Caroline Cross - The Rancher And The Nanny

As for his unfortunate physical attraction to her…big deal. It wasn’t his way to let his feelings cloud his judgment, or his desires dictate his actions. And he certainly wasn’t a stranger to deprivation. He’d lived most of his life without the sort of things—such as a home or family or even a close companion—that other people took for granted. He could handle himself.

As quickly as that, his mind was made up. For Lissy’s sake, he’d do it. He’d hire Eve to be her nanny.

And to hell with his gut, which was already warning him that Ms. Chandler was going to be nothing but trouble.

And that he was making a big mistake.

Dear Reader,

Silhouette is celebrating its 20 thanniversary throughout 2000! So, to usher in the first summer of the millennium, why not indulge yourself with six powerful, passionate, provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire?

Jackie Merritt returns to Desire with a MAN OF THE MONTH who’s Tough To Tame. Enjoy the sparks that fly between a rugged ranch manager and the feisty lady who turns his world upside down! Another wonderful romance from RITA Award winner Caroline Cross is in store for you this month with The Rancher and the Nanny, in which a rags-to-riches hero learns trust and love from the riches-to-rags woman who cares for his secret child.

Watch for Meagan McKinney’s The Cowboy Meets His Match—an octogenarian matchmaker sets up an ice-princess heiress with a virile rodeo star. The Desire theme promotion THE BABY BANK, about sperm-bank client heroines who find love unexpectedly, concludes with Susan Crosby’s The Baby Gift. Wonderful newcomer Sheri WhiteFeather offers another irresistible Native American hero with Cheyenne Dad. And Kate Little’s hero reunites with his lost love in a marriage of convenience to save her from financial ruin in The Determined Groom.

So come join in the celebration and start your summer off on the supersensual side—by reading all six of these tantalizing Desire books!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

www.millsandboon.co.uk

always loved to read, but it wasn’t until she discovered the romance genre that she felt compelled to write, fascinated by the chance to explore the positive power of love in people’s lives. Winner of the prestigious Romance Writers of America’s RITA Award for Best Short Contemporary, she’s also been thrilled to win the Romantic Times Magazine Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Desire, as well as a W.I.S.H. Award. She grew up in central Washington State, attended the University of Puget Sound and now lives outside of Seattle, where she tries to work at home despite the chaos created by two telephone-addicted teenage daughters and a husband with a fondness for home-improvement projects. The Rancher and the Nanny marks her tenth book for Silhouette. Caroline would love to hear from her readers. She can be reached at P.O. Box 5845, Bellevue, Washington, 98006.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

The shiny black pickup rocketed down the Bar M’s gravel drive, raising a plume of dust in its wake.

Poised before the ranch house’s back door, Eve Chandler turned as the vehicle swept past. Her stomach did a quick somersault at the sight of the big, dark-haired man behind the wheel.

It had been eight years since she last saw John MacLaren, but for an instant time seemed to melt away. All of a sudden she was seventeen again, and the way she’d felt whenever she was around him—hot, bothered, filled with yearnings that both enthralled and embarrassed her—came rushing back.

She shivered and took a step toward the stairs as if to flee, only to freeze a second later as her common sense kicked in.

Knock it off, Eve. You’re no longer an inexperienced teenager, remember? You’re twenty-five years old, the same age John was all those years ago. At least he doesn’t have a clue how you felt back then—you made sure of that. Think how much harder this would be if he had.

The stark reminder of why she was here crashed over her like a breaker of icy water. And though she stubbornly refused to give in to the rising tide of panic that had been building inside her the past few weeks, she couldn’t deny the irony of the situation. If someone had tried to tell her six months ago that she, the privileged granddaughter of Lander County’s biggest rancher, would soon be forced to come begging favors from the sexy loner who once worked in the Chandler stables, she never would have believed it.

Yet here she was.

Thirty feet away, John pulled in beside the small red car she’d borrowed for the drive over. He switched off the pickup’s engine.

She could hear her heart pounding in the ensuing silence. Determined not to let on, she deliberately struck a casual pose as he climbed out of the cab and shut the truck door. He began to walk in her direction, his long legs eating up the distance as he slowly yanked off his leather work gloves.

If he was surprised to see her, it didn’t show.

He stopped at the foot of the stairs and inclined his head a scant inch. “Eve.”

Taking a firm grip on her unruly emotions, she summoned her most confident smile. “Hello, John.”

There was a distinct silence as they regarded each other.

Around them, the September day was much like any other. A pale yellow sun hung high in the vast blue Montana sky. The temperature hovered in the midfifties, while the summer-seared grass that covered the surrounding range waved gently beneath a light but persistent breeze.

Eve paid no attention. Her focus was completely claimed by the tall man standing before her. Despite her little pep talk, the fluttery feeling in her stomach got worse as he slowly rocked back on his heels and gave her an unhurried once-over. His gaze touched on her sunny blond hair, then raked her ice-blue cashmere sweater, gray wool crepe slacks and Italian leather shoes.

She’d chosen the expensive outfit deliberately. At the time, she’d told herself she merely wanted to look her best. Now, she realized that on some level she’d also hoped it would give her an edge, acting as a subtle reminder of their respective pasts. In the half second before his eyes hooded over, however, she caught a glimpse of something in their depths that seemed to be as much cool disdain as grudging appreciation.

Stung, she lifted her chin and studied him in turn. She had to concede the years had been good to him in ways that had nothing to do with his newfound wealth. He might be dressed in scuffed cowboy boots, jeans whitened at the hips and thighs, a faded black T-shirt and a weathered Stetson, but nobody would ever mistake him for a simple ranch hand.

Time had added muscle to his lean six-foot three-inch frame and character to the chiseled angles of his face. What’s more, while he’d always possessed more than his share of virility, now he also radiated an air of leashed power. It was easy to see why women from sixteen to sixty turned to watch when he walked past. From the determined angle of his square jaw, to the compelling bite of his laser blue eyes and the deliberate set of his broad shoulders, he was all man.

The realization that she found him even more attractive now than she had when she was seventeen set off an alarm deep inside her.

“I was sorry to hear about Max,” he said abruptly.

She jerked her gaze to his, heat rising in her cheeks as their eyes met. Horrified he might guess what she’d been thinking, she did her best to look cool and contained. “I received your card. Thank you.”

He shrugged, the simple motion seriously straining the seams of his T-shirt. “He was a good man.”

Off balance, and unable to think about the unexpected loss of her grandfather without a piercing sense of grief, she said merely, “Yes, he was.”

“Rumor has it you’re selling the Rocking C to some big Texas cattle consortium.”

“That’s true, I am. The deal will be final in just a few days.”

He crossed his arms. “You sure didn’t waste any time unloading the place, did you?”

Eve stared at his hard, handsome face, taken aback by his obvious disapproval even as she realized he’d just given her the perfect opening. All she had to do was tell the truth—that if she hadn’t sold out to the Texans, she would have lost the ranch either to the bank or the IRS—and he’d know the gravity of her financial situation.

Yet she couldn’t—she wouldn’t—do it. Word of the disastrous investments her grandfather had made the last year of his life would no doubt eventually surface, since the Lander County ranching community was surprisingly tight-knit. But it wouldn’t come from her. Just as Max Chandler had protected her in life, Eve would protect him in death. Because she’d loved him. And because it was the very least that she owed him.

“I guess that means you’ll be taking off pretty soon,” John said in the face of her silence. “Back to Paris or New York or—where is it you’ve been living lately?”

“London,” she supplied automatically, trying to decide just how she was going to broach the reason for her visit.

She needn’t have worried. In his direct, no-nonsense way, John took care of the problem for her. “So, you going to tell me what you’re doing here or not?”

“Yes, of course. I was hoping we could talk. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

He took a cursory glance at his wristwatch, then shocked her by shaking his head. “Sorry. I’ve got a prior commitment. We’ll have to do it another time.”

“But this won’t wait!”

He shrugged, clearly unmoved. “It’ll have to. I’ve got less than fifteen minutes before I have to be somewhere.”

Struggling for composure, she turned to keep him in view as he strode up the stairs and brushed past her, trailing the scent of sunshine, horses and hard work in his wake. “Please, John,” she said, swallowing her pride. “I promise it won’t take long.”

His hand froze on the doorknob. He turned, obvious reluctance warring with curiosity—and something else she couldn’t define—in his eyes. “All right,” he said finally. “I guess if you don’t mind talking while I get washed up, I can spare you a few minutes.” Pushing open the inner door, he disappeared inside.

She stared after him, feeling both relieved and annoyed, trying to convince herself that she shouldn’t read too much into his being less than friendly. After all, he was simply treating her the way she’d treated him when they were younger.

And just like that, despite her every intention not to revisit the past, the memory of their first meeting came rushing back.

Once again it was a still summer morning. The air smelled clean and sweet, redolent with the scents of sunshine, hay and the bark chips beneath her feet as she stood in the doorway of one of the Rocking C’s roomy box stalls, stroking the warm, satiny neck of Candy Stripes, her quarter horse mare.