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 motherâs elegant dining setâthe one where Hannah had spent countless hours doing her homework and eating mealsâstalled her steps. She scanned the rest of the room.
The kitchen remained architecturally the same and yet appeared totally different because Wyattâs Southwestern paint scheme stood out jarringly in the once-familiar classic Wedgwood-blue environment. Even the appliances had been replaced with shiny stainless ones.
âYou ended your engagement fifteen months ago.â
âDoesnât matter. I donât have time for men or the complications that seem to be encoded on their DNA.â
Nellie patted Hannahâs hand. âThe changes take some getting used to, but Wyatt went top of the line on everything while I was away. I âbout had a stroke when I saw heâd repainted the whole house and replaced my olâ stove.â
Nellieâs words reminded Hannah that she wasnât the only one facing changes. âIs he being good to you?â
âHe is. Doesnât make a mess. Doesnât 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 thatâs a shame, because this house needs to be filled with people. But maybe thatâll come once he stops all his traveling anâ settles in. I miss cooking fancy dinners and seeing you all prettied up.â
âYouâre assuming Wyatt would want me to act as his hostess.â
âWhy wouldnât he? Iâve seen no sign of a significant other.â
Hannah filed that away while she searched Nellieâs lined and now tanned face and strained for sounds of the boss. âYouâd tell me if he gave you any trouble, wouldnât you?â
Nellie smiled. âHannah, if youâd fight half as hard for yourself as you do for your causes, youâd be a force to be reckoned with. But Iâve had no problems with the new boss.â She indicated a tray on the table holding coffee and a plateof muffins. âTake that with you to the office when you go, please.â
The idea of eating while Wyatt dissected Find Your Centerâs budget made Hannahâs stomach churn. Between his pending verdict and the kiss that should never have happened she had no appetite whatsoever, even though sheâd skipped breakfast. That blasted kiss had haunted her for the past thirty-six hours.
Sheâd forgotten what a manâs lips felt like, forgotten how the flesh could be soft and yet firm at the same time, commanding and yet giving. Forgotten the electrical chargeâ
Check that. She hadnât forgotten the electricity. Sheâd never experienced a jolt that strong before Wyatt.
âHow are you and your horses making out?â
She blinked at Nellieâs question. âThatâs what Iâm here to find out. That bottom-line bastard wants to shut us down.â
âIâm sure youâll find a solution. Youâre quite resourceful when it comes to your animals.â
âHannah.â Wyattâs deep voice from behind her smashed into her. âIâm waiting.â
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 couldnât help herself. If Wyatt remembered the kiss, he didnât show it by so much as a flicker of his short, spiky eyelashes.
Moot point. The kiss wouldnât be repeated. She wouldnât let it. Wyatt made her want to take risks and sheâd learned a long
Learning to Kill: Stories