Scandals from the Third Bride. Sara Orwig

the rooms and then to focus on one at a time. I’ll get a proposal put together for you and we can meet at my office to go over it.”

      “Sounds fine,” he said. They turned into her gated area, passed through the graceful white metal gates with Cade’s driver using the combination she had given Cade on her card. They slowed and stopped in front of her one-story redbrick house that was set back in a landscaped yard with oak trees.

      “Beautiful trees and house, Katherine,” Cade said as he walked her to her door.

      On the porch she faced him. “Thank you for your bid, for dinner and for your job offer. You’ve helped a lot of children tonight and you’ve given me a wonderful job opportunity.”

      “I’ll get my money’s worth,” he said softly.

      She frowned. “I hope there’s no innuendo in your statement. You’ll get six murals, nothing else. My body isn’t included.”

      “I didn’t expect it to be,” he said, standing too close, gazing at her too intently.

      For a few seconds they stared at each other. Her pulse raced and she could remember too many times he had kissed her good-night. Hastily, she removed her key and turned to open her door. Stepping inside, she switched off her alarm and turned back to find him standing in the open doorway. She had no intention of inviting him inside.

      “Good night, Katherine. I’m looking forward to your work,” he said, holding out his hand.

      Reluctantly, she reached out to shake hands with him and had that electric sizzle that spun to her toes the instant his hand closed around hers. She wanted to yank her hand away, but instead, she merely withdrew it gently after a second. She didn’t want this intense, fiery reaction to him, but there was no stopping it or keeping it from happening.

      She watched him stride back to the waiting limousine. She closed the front door and leaned back against it, rubbing her forehead. Was he going to break her heart a second time?

      She was going to live in his house and he would be there, watching what she was doing. All evening the question had plagued her of how she could resist him. Could she cope with being around him and not succumb to seduction?

      Why was she so certain he would try to seduce her?

      She could be wrong, but he hadn’t done too well at keeping his hands off her tonight. She was equally uncertain whether she could continually hold her fury in check. He stirred opposing emotions in her constantly. One minute she was attracted, afraid she would fall in love again, the next minute she was fighting to control her temper.

      She thought about when she had lost her temper with him tonight. At least the outburst had been brief. When she moved into his house, she hoped she could remain coolly professional with him and avoid him when she wasn’t working.

      She was drained and exhilarated all at once. Cade was here! She wished she could shake him right out of mind, but it was impossible. Everything inside her screamed a reminder that he had returned. After nine long years, Cade was back!

      And then she thought about the murals and the payment she would get.

      Her eyes flew open. Ten million dollars! She spun around in a circle, flinging out her arms and letting her purse fly, not caring when it hit the door and fell on the polished oak floor. She could open more offices—one at a time so she could get them started and running well before she moved on to another one. It had been her dream and now she would be able to do all she had planned.

      Certain sleep was impossible, she kicked off her shoes and hurried to the office she had in her house. Switching on lights, she entered a room that was lined with shelves filled with books, drawings and awards. Two computers sat on her desk and another on a table.

      She got down some books to look at pictures that might inspire her or trigger an idea.

      As she poured over the pictures, her thoughts kept slipping back to Cade and the time she had just spent with him, remembering dancing with him, being held in his arms again, something she had never expected to have happen.

      Where had he made his fortune? Why was he angry with her? Why had he been so insistent that she take the job instead of another painter? She knew there were others who were as good as she was and he could have hired someone for far less. Why was he still single when he was so handsome and successful? Questions besieged her and she recalled that first moment she looked into his brown eyes and recognized him—everything inside her had clamored for her to throw herself in his arms. She was going to live in his house with him. The thought alone set her pulse racing. The house would be a palace, but if it were five times the size of a hotel, it wouldn’t be large enough to keep fireworks from exploding between them.

      Sooner or later, the past would rise up and all the money in the world couldn’t keep it from happening. Shutting her eyes, she remembered how they had met. Clearly, she could recall hot, mid-afternoon July sunshine. She was home from college after her sophomore year, twenty years old. With the radio blaring, she was driving a battered pickup, the oldest on the Ransome ranch. Racing ten miles over the speed limit on the usually deserted county road, she sang as she headed home.

      A truck passed driven by a cowboy, who honked and waved. It wasn’t anyone she recognized, but she waved in return because most people who traveled the road lived somewhere in the general area.

      Next she heard a bike and saw a guy on a Harley behind her. His shaggy, black hair was blowing behind him. He wore a red headband, a ragged T-shirt and frayed jeans. He pulled alongside her and honked.

      She glanced at him, saw he was good-looking, so she smiled and then turned back to driving. He honked again and she flashed him a look.

      Since she had been twelve years old, she had been receiving attention from males, so she was accustomed to honks, whistles, smiles, waves and guys hitting on her.

      The biker wasn’t anyone she knew. He persisted and then when he didn’t get much reaction from her, he pulled ahead of her and slowed, causing her to slow or else she would hit him. When she signaled to pass him, he waved one arm frantically and as she tried to pass, he pulled over so she couldn’t.

      Annoyed, she started to pull to the right to try to pass him, but he swung over to the right and kept waving his arm, only now he was pointing and jabbing the air to his right with his index finger. If he wanted her to stop, he was crazy.

      She wasn’t afraid because she knew most people in her county and the surrounding area. She had her cell phone ready if she needed help.

      He slowed, blocking her path.

      She leaned on her horn and got within an inch of the back of his bike as they still drove down the highway, only now going below the speed limit. He shook his head, peeled out of her way and she pushed the accelerator, racing past him, sticking her tongue out at him as she roared past.