the love and loyalty of these townspeople simply by making a substantial donation to the small Texas community.
But Natasha wasn’t interested in being the town’s patron. She wanted to own Crystal Creek. And nothing, it seemed, was going to stop her.
DOUG WAS STILL WORKING over his snarl of invoices and computer printouts when Maggie came back into the hotel lobby. Apparently the younger brother had gone off somewhere on his own because she was alone now, carrying a sack from Wall’s Drugstore and looking preoccupied.
She seemed more approachable, too, dressed in pleated khakis, a cable-knit sweater and a duffel coat with hood. The enticing hair clip had been replaced by a long casual braid.
Again he thought about unfastening that braid, letting her hair fall free across her shoulders.
Doug loved the look of a woman with long hair. Especially when it was dark and glossy like Maggie’s, with chestnut highlights…
“Hi.” She paused by the counter. “How’s it going?”
“Not well,” he said, catching a whiff of the tantalizing perfume she wore. It smelled more woodsy than sweet, like the forest after a rain.
A lovely, elusive fragrance…
“So how much would I have to pay you to sort this all out for me?” he asked, gesturing at the computer and the messy stack of papers.
She stared, and again he was conscious of her classic features, the fine dark eyes and high cheekbones. “You’re kidding.”
“On the contrary, I’m deadly serious. How long would it take to bring my bookkeeping system into the new millennium?”
“A good accountant could analyze your needs and set up a couple of decent spreadsheets within…” Maggie glanced at her watch. “Oh, I’d say…a few hours. But it might take a day or two if the problems are widespread.”
Doug was almost dizzied by her nearness, to say nothing of this incredible statement. “If you could do that for me,” he told her, “I’d give you a week of rent-free accommodation.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Her darkly lashed eyes were so beautiful. He couldn’t stop gazing at them. And her body under the casual clothes was so enticing, slim and richly curved, with long legs and high, sweet breasts…
“Ridiculous?” he asked.
She hesitated, then tossed her package and duffel coat onto a couch, opened the little gate and came around behind the desk, perching next to him on another stool.
“Let me have the computer,” she said. “I don’t want to look at your books, but I’ll download a useful spreadsheet for you right now, and you can pay me back by giving me a drink of Irish cream in the pub later on.”
In the midst of his enchantment, Doug felt a sharp twinge of suspicion. This offer was too good to be true, and so was the lovely woman at his side.
“What’s the catch?” he asked.
She gave him one of the enchanting, luminous smiles that made his heart beat faster. “Are Scotsmen always so suspicious of ordinary human kindness?”
“We Scots have discovered over the years,” he said, “that a healthy dose of suspicion helps us to get along with our neighbors.”
“It does?”
“Well,” he amended after brief consideration, “suspicion and a bloody great wall.”
She chuckled, and he was undone. He would have given anything just to hear her laugh again. When she pressed closer to him, punching numbers on the keyboard, one of her breasts touched his arm and it was all he could not to sweep her into his arms.
“So you wouldn’t worry about a stranger looking at your business affairs?” she asked, dragging him back to reality.
“Why should I be? There’s nothing to hide in my books. The temps I hire to come up from Austin and wade through this mess, are all strangers.”
By now, Maggie was all business, entering instructions, pulling down packages of software he’d never seen before. Her fingers flew over the screen, and as she concentrated, she bit her full lower lip between perfect white teeth.
Her only pause came when Dundee edged closer and rested a furry chin on her arm, begging to be scratched. Maggie stopped and stroked the cat’s ears, then bent to whisper something to her.
Doug watched, moved by the tenderness of her gesture, feeling irrationally envious of his own cat.
“Do you like animals?” he asked.
“I really love cats, but I travel too much to have one of my own.” Maggie looked wistful. “Dundee is just such a beauty.”
She watched in obvious regret when the tabby leaped down from the reception desk and padded off in the direction of the hotel pub. When the animal was gone, Maggie sighed and returned to the books.
“Okay,” she muttered after a while. “That’s all you need for now. Look, you start with your ledger entries in this column…”
She demonstrated the use of the spreadsheet she’d established. Doug watched with interest.
“Could you go over that last bit again?” he said, frowning. “Like I told you, computers really aren’t my strong point.”
“I’ll tell you what, Doug.” Maggie glanced at him. “You’re right, a drink in the bar isn’t nearly enough payment for teaching you how to use this accounting software.”
“You greedy woman,” he teased. “I already offered you a week of rent-free accommodation.”
“And I said that’s ridiculous, though teaching you this would probably take me the better part of a week in my free time.” Maggie frowned at the screen. “Still, it’s an interesting challenge.”
“So how shall I repay you?”
As she looked over at him, a strand of hair worked itself free of the braid and fell across her cheek. He longed to reach up to smooth it back behind her ear.
“Hire a technician to put some phone jacks in our sitting room and our bedrooms,” she said. “I’ll consider that a wonderful repayment.”
Doug watched her curiously. “Nobody’s ever wanted a phone in their room before,” he said.
“Oh, come on. Whoever heard of a hotel without phones in the rooms?”
“This isn’t the big city, Maggie. Our guests always use the phone at the end of the hall, or down here in the lobby.”
“But my brother and I will be using two computers, a laptop and fax machine,” Maggie told him. “We need at least four phone jacks and two dedicated lines for e-mail and Internet access, or we can’t stay here.”
“And if I install them, you’ll teach me how to computerize my bookkeeping?”
“My brother’s a novelist.” She looked fully at him, her eyes grave and thoughtful. “He’s at an important point in the book he’s working on, and he needs to be able to write every day.”
“Is he published?”
“His first book comes out in late spring. He’s working on the sequel.”
“And what about you?” Doug asked. “Are you just along to nurse the creative genius, Maggie?”
Her cheeks turned faintly pink, a reaction that he found intriguing.
“Hardly.” She looked back at the screen. “I have work of my own to do.”
“In Crystal Creek?”
“You’ve never heard of networking?” she asked a little evasively. “With a computer modem and a good-quality fax, I could conduct my business