them over. A zing of male awareness ricocheted through his body at the touch. Ignore that, he ordered himself.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Thank you,” she said softly.
“Here, I’ll show you the cottage. It’s been empty for a while, so I’m not too sure how things look inside.”
They looked pretty bad. When he opened the door and saw the layer of dust and the sad and shabby furnishings, the first thought he had was that she had been a model. This would look like a hovel to her.
“It needs work,” he said, stating the obvious.
“I like work.”
“Well, then, you’re going to love this place.” He stepped past her to pull open a shade, and as he did, his body brushed hers. Was that hiss of awareness coming from him or from her?
Noah looked into her eyes. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but he could tell that she wasn’t unaffected by him.
Too bad. The lady’s off-limits. “I’ll just let you get to…”
Undressing.
“Business,” he said, hoping that his voice didn’t sound hoarse. “And I’ll get back to mine.”
Probably best to leave Ivy to Brody’s care, he thought, heading back to the house. But something stubborn and strong inside him didn’t like that idea.
So deal with it. He’d obviously been on the ranch too long; his reaction to her was beyond hot. But there was nothing he could do about that. He and Ivy had a deal. He would keep Lily away from her, and Ivy would leave as soon as this job ran out.
That thought strengthened him. He’d been an idiot before, but all of that was pre-Lily. There were serious, long-term consequences to his actions now. He couldn’t afford to do anything stupid.
Ivy Seacrest would be just another hand to him from now on. The fact that she made him break out in a cold sweat couldn’t matter.
Three days passed, and Ivy tried to work and not pay attention to anything else going on around the ranch. She tried not to notice her aching muscles or the fact that her ranching skills were rusty. She especially tried not to remember how she had reacted to Noah in that split-second brush of his body against hers when he had moved to open the shades.
“Damn, damn, damn,” she muttered beneath her breath. For two long years she had not had one whit of an interest in men. Life had jerked her around too much and all the bad times had boiled down to her dealings with men who had ruined her life—her father who had destroyed her mother with his blind, obsessive devotion to his ranch, and her husband, Alden, whose obsessions that blinded him to others’ feelings had destroyed everything else that had mattered to her. She would never get involved with another man who wore blinders, and it was clear that Noah did.
That comment about Elle magazine had been funny, but it had obviously also been true. Despite his comment about gossip, he had to have been out roaming the range not to have known anything about her past, given the way the paparazzi had covered her accident.
Or maybe he’d been mourning the loss of his wife, she thought. But even that was evidence of how much he cared about this ranch. She’d heard that his ex-wife had left because she hated the ranch. Yet Noah had stayed. He’d let her go.
That was none of her business, but it was just impossible to dodge. The other day when she’d shown up wearing the too-short jeans, Darrell’s eyebrows had risen.
“Noah let you wear Pamala’s pants?”
The pants were a bit loose around the waist, but Ivy had suddenly felt as if they were too tight. She’d wondered if Noah would look at her and think of his Pamala.
Brody had let out a low whistle. “They look way better on you, Ivy, even though they’re a bit high on your boots. But—damn!—I’m surprised those are even still around. I would have thought Noah would have burned those things. She sure burned him. She hated Ballenger Ranch like fire hates water.”
Ever since then, Ivy had tried not to wonder about the man who’d let his wife walk while he stayed at the ranch. It wasn’t any of her business, but she was still glad she knew. It would make it easier to think of Noah not as a man but as a man she couldn’t want. Actually, it would be best not to think of him at all, but that was impossible—a truth that was driven home when she found out that the following morning she would need to ride out on a search for lost cattle. Roping would be involved. Noah would be there.
Her courage nearly failed her. She’d never been good with a rope and hadn’t had much experience with one. Her less than stellar performance might convince Noah that he’d made a mistake hiring her. So at the end of the day she took a rope and, moving as far away from the house as she could, she practiced, using a bale of hay with a stick jammed into it. Time and again, Ivy swung the rope, but without much success. Anxiety made her clumsy. She had told Noah she would be a good hand. What would he say when she couldn’t even hit her targets?
Biting her lip, she turned and stared off into the distance, hands on her hips. Frustration nearly paralyzed her, but standing there worrying wasn’t helping. “Stop being such a coward, Seacrest,” she muttered to herself. “Just keep trying.” She turned back to her task.
“You’re swinging too high to the right, and the loop you’re using is too big for you.”
Finishing her turn in a rush, Ivy stared at Noah, who was standing less than twenty feet away and moving closer.
“How—how long have you been watching me?”
“Long enough to see the problem.”
To see that she couldn’t even hit an immobile stick, much less a moving animal. “I’ll practice. I’ll be better by morning.”
He gave her a long, assessing stare and shook his head. “I’ve got a dummy steer that will work better than that stick. I’ll show you how to use it another day. Tomorrow we’ll do the run without you.”
No, no, no, ran through her mind. He would lose respect for her. So would Brody and Darrell. A hand who couldn’t carry her weight was a liability, not a help. “I’ll make the adjustments you suggested. Noah, I know this isn’t my call, but…I want to be there tomorrow. I’ll learn. I won’t be deadweight.” She had very little left in the world. She couldn’t afford to lose this job…or her pride.
But she could see that he didn’t believe her. And why should he? If he’d seen her repeatedly miss the target, he had to be thinking she’d be more of a hindrance than a help.
“I’ll keep practicing tonight until I have it,” she said. And when he didn’t answer her right away…“Please,” she managed to whisper as heat flooded her face.
Noah swore. “Why didn’t your father teach you to rope?”
“I guess…he wasn’t very good at it himself.”
Noah gave a terse nod. He turned and started walking.
“Noah?”
“Don’t move. I’ll be back,” he said.
A few minutes later he returned with a contraption that looked like a plastic steer’s head on a metal body. “All right. Let’s do it,” he said.
Something like relief and gratitude mixed with fear swooshed through Ivy. She concentrated hard as she twirled the rope, knowing her loop was too wobbly and uncertain.
Noah stepped to her side. “Like this,” he said, gently grasping her hand and guiding her arm. “Keep the loop of the rope open and bring it across your body this way as you twirl it. Nice, easy motions. Steady.” But she didn’t feel at all steady. Noah was trying to help her, but the closeness of his big hard body, the warmth of his touch as his arm came around her and crossed her body, brushing against her, made it difficult to breathe or think. She looked