Free Cowboy Come Home by Janette Kenny Page B

expected there was any.
    They’d burned out all emotion and desire between them before. Or should have.
    The hum of need that tormented her now wasn’t welcome. If she wasn’t so tired, she could’ve squelched it before it became something she even acknowledged.
    “Has Manuel returned yet?” she asked, actually making a point of looking around him then, knowing it was rude and not caring.
    She was too stressed from the ordeal at the JDB, the journey here, and having Trey back in her life to worry about manners.
    “Don’t expect him back until tomorrow.”
    He thumbed his hat up, and it was all she could do not to gasp at the intensity in those dark eyes. Midnight eyes that managed to capture just enough lamplight to make them spark a magnetic blue.
    He didn’t say anything for the longest time. “You’re pretty much on your own here, Daisy. Can you handle that?”
    For the first time in ages she felt her own anger boil deep inside her. She knew what he was getting at. She was the spoiled rancher’s daughter.
    Ramona had cooked her meals, cleaned her house, and helped her dress for as long as she could recall. Without the other woman, would she be able to function?
    “Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be just fine.”
    She stepped back to close the door but he thrust a boot forward and stopped it from shutting. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.
    “Coming inside.”
    “No!”
    He slapped a palm on the door and pushed it open, forcing her to stumble back inside the kitchen. “You’re not staying here alone, Daisy. No telling what Ned will get in his head to do next.”
    She opened her mouth to protest, but knew it was useless. She’d made an enemy of Ned and staying in this house by herself was risky. But how much greater danger was she facing by living here with Trey?
    “You can have the bedroom on the south,” she said.
    That earned her a cocky grin. “Yes’m.”
    Trey strode to the stairs and mounted them with that same unhurried grace she’d admired earlier. The house was small, but the rooms seemed to shrink in on her with him sharing the same space.
    She’d walked through the house as soon as she got here, which hadn’t taken any time at all—it was only two rooms and a small pantry on the first level and three bedrooms upstairs reached by a steep staircase at the end of the fireplace. As Trey had warned her before they left, the house wasn’t anything to brag on.
    At one time someone had put paper on the walls and hung curtains at the windows, but the paper had yellowed and peeled in places, and the flour-sack curtains at the windows were close to rags now. Daisy was sure if she had given them a smart tug they would have ripped in two.
    Everything desperately needed a good cleaning, especially the windows. But it was a roof over her head, and it was her home.
    She had felt a certain sense of rightness when she had carried her valise into the north bedroom. It had a good view of the ranch and had a lock on the door. Surely not a substantial one.
    If Trey wanted in her room, he could bust down the door. But she knew he wouldn’t do that.
    He’d let her make the first move like she’d done before. He’d let her come to him.
    Hell would freeze over first.
    Now, as she stood alone in the kitchen, she wasn’t nearly as sure. She dropped onto a chair and cradled her head with shaking hands. How could she possibly live here with him? How could she hate him and yet still desire him?
    The answer continued to elude her. She’d been unable to shove him from her thoughts the past six months. Now those memories were as fresh as if they’d just happened.
    Being his lover had been wonderful. She had thought that the next step would be marriage. She thought he was the man she’d love for the rest of her life.
    Now that dream was shattered.
    He worked for her now. They’d never be lovers again. She’d never allow it to happen, no matter how much her body craved his touch.
    She’d