Hot Westmoreland Nights - Brenda Jackson [5]
She took another deep breath and opened the car door and got out at the same time the front door was slung opened and the man who’d tormented her dreams for the past couple of weeks stepped out on the porch with a scowl on his face, and said in a firm voice, “You are late.”
Ramsey tried not to stare at the woman but couldn’t help it. And this was supposed to be his temporary cook? She looked more like a model than a damn cook. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be able to generate plenty of heat in the kitchen or any other room she set foot in.
She was definitely a beauty with dark brown curly hair that flowed to her shoulders, dark brown eyes that looked seductive rather than contrite and a perfectly shaped mouth. And seeing her dressed in a pair of jeans that hugged her hips and pink blouse beneath a black leather jacket, made her look ultra-feminine and made him blatantly aware of his sexuality, while reminding him of just how long it had been since he’d been with a woman.
Ramsey hadn’t expected this gut-stirring lust. He didn’t need the attraction nor did he want it. It would be best for all concerned if she just got back in her car and returned to wherever she’d come from. But that wasn’t possible. He had over twenty men to feed come lunchtime. He had managed to get through breakfast and thank goodness no one had complained. They had understood Nellie’s emergency and had tolerated the slightly burned biscuits, scorched eggs and the overly crisp bacon. He had promised them a better meal for lunch. When they saw this woman they would definitely think she was a delicious treat.
“Excuse me. What did you say?”
He glanced across the yard where she was still standing by her car. Feeling frustrated as hell and fighting for control he walked down the steps, not taking his eyes off her. “I said you are late and your pay will be docked accordingly. The agency said you would be here at eight and it’s now after nine. I have twenty men you’ll need to feed at lunchtime. I hope there won’t be a problem because I have plenty to do this morning and the agency assured me that you knew your way around a kitchen.”
Chloe resisted the urge to ask what he was talking about. Instead she spoke up and said, “Yes, I know my way around a kitchen.”
“Then get to it. I’ll be back for lunch and we can talk then, but I can tell you now that one of my pet peeves is tardiness,” he said, moving toward his truck.
From what Chloe gathered he was expecting a cook who evidently was late in arriving. She should speak up now and explain to him that she was not the cook but he seemed to be in such a hurry. “Wait!”
He paused, turned sensual dark eyes on her and she felt a heated sensation rush up her spine at the same time she felt the tenderness in the nipples pressed against her blouse. “Look, lady, I don’t have time to wait. I’m needed over at the shearing plant as we speak. You’ll find everything you need in the kitchen.”
His voice was hard, yet at the same time it sounded sexy. And she couldn’t believe it when he hopped into his truck and pulled off. She couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch him leave.
So much for having her say to convince him to do the magazine cover. For crying out loud, he thought she was a cook of all things. What she should do was to just get into her car and leave and come back another time, she thought. But where was this cook he was expecting? And did she hear him correctly when he said that come lunchtime there would twenty men to feed?
Chloe rubbed her hands down her face. Surely there was someone she could call who had his cell—who could get word to him of the grave mistake he’d made.
She turned toward the front door. He had left it wide open on the assumption that she would go inside, and at the moment she didn’t have the common sense not to do so. If nothing else she could call Lucia. There was a chance Lucia knew how to contact a family member who