Free Her Tycoon to Tame by Emilie Rose

face from the eagle-eyed Nellie as she entered the kitchen. The shockof seeing a large Mission-style table in the breakfast nook instead of her mother’s elegant dining set—the one where Hannah had spent countless hours doing her homework and eating meals—stalled her steps. She scanned the rest of the room.
    The kitchen remained architecturally the same and yet appeared totally different because Wyatt’s Southwestern paint scheme stood out jarringly in the once-familiar classic Wedgwood-blue environment. Even the appliances had been replaced with shiny stainless ones.
    â€œYou ended your engagement fifteen months ago.”
    â€œDoesn’t matter. I don’t have time for men or the complications that seem to be encoded on their DNA.”
    Nellie patted Hannah’s hand. “The changes take some getting used to, but Wyatt went top of the line on everything while I was away. I ’bout had a stroke when I saw he’d repainted the whole house and replaced my ol’ stove.”
    Nellie’s words reminded Hannah that she wasn’t the only one facing changes. “Is he being good to you?”
    â€œHe is. Doesn’t make a mess. Doesn’t complain. Keeps to himself for the most part and knows what he wants. He always says thank you. He claims he has no intention of entertaining like your father did, and that’s a shame, because this house needs to be filled with people. But maybe that’ll come once he stops all his traveling an’ settles in. I miss cooking fancy dinners and seeing you all prettied up.”
    â€œYou’re assuming Wyatt would want me to act as his hostess.”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t he? I’ve seen no sign of a significant other.”
    Hannah filed that away while she searched Nellie’s lined and now tanned face and strained for sounds of the boss. “You’d tell me if he gave you any trouble, wouldn’t you?”
    Nellie smiled. “Hannah, if you’d fight half as hard for yourself as you do for your causes, you’d be a force to be reckoned with. But I’ve had no problems with the new boss.” She indicated a tray on the table holding coffee and a plateof muffins. “Take that with you to the office when you go, please.”
    The idea of eating while Wyatt dissected Find Your Center’s budget made Hannah’s stomach churn. Between his pending verdict and the kiss that should never have happened she had no appetite whatsoever, even though she’d skipped breakfast. That blasted kiss had haunted her for the past thirty-six hours.
    She’d forgotten what a man’s lips felt like, forgotten how the flesh could be soft and yet firm at the same time, commanding and yet giving. Forgotten the electrical charge—
    Check that. She hadn’t forgotten the electricity. She’d never experienced a jolt that strong before Wyatt.
    â€œHow are you and your horses making out?”
    She blinked at Nellie’s question. “That’s what I’m here to find out. That bottom-line bastard wants to shut us down.”
    â€œI’m sure you’ll find a solution. You’re quite resourceful when it comes to your animals.”
    â€œHannah.” Wyatt’s deep voice from behind her smashed into her. “I’m waiting.”
    Her skin caught fire. How much had he overheard? She turned and found his eyes focused on her in that laser-like, unwavering and unnerving way of his. His foreboding expression twisted her nerves like hay in a baler.
    She tried not to look at his mouth, tried not to recall the texture and warmth of his lips against hers or the strength of his chest against her breasts. But she couldn’t help herself. If Wyatt remembered the kiss, he didn’t show it by so much as a flicker of his short, spiky eyelashes.
    Moot point. The kiss wouldn’t be repeated. She wouldn’t let it. Wyatt made her want to take risks and she’d learned a long