He looked up into her wide, distressed eyes. “It was going to be dinner,” he said.
“Oh, my God.” She looked at him as if he were some mad dog serial killer. “I can’t eat a bunny.”
“Yeah. I’m getting that.” The trapped rabbit scampered in place, desperately trying to get free of the rope that had tightened around one of its hind feet. Jericho looked at it and sighed. Then he bent down, loosened the rope and straightened up as the rabbit scooted off into the underbrush. Dry pine straw rustled under the animal’s running feet and then there was silence, the only sound the rushing of the nearby river.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Daisy said as Jericho turned to face her.
He shrugged off her gratitude. “You weren’t going to eat it so…”
“Thank you.” She said it simply and honestly and Jericho nodded.
“You’re welcome. Now, I’m going to go catch some trout for dinner—” He took a step, stopped and looked at her again. “Unless you’ve got a soft spot for fish, too.”
“Nope. Pan-fried, baked, grilled, barbecued, even smooshed in a blender to make a mousse,” she assured him. “I like it all.”
“Good to know,” he told her, shaking his head, “though here’s something to keep in mind if you do end up with this job…”
“Yes?”
“I don’t eat fish mousse.”
“I’ll make a note,” she said, one corner of her mouth lifting into a half smile.
“Good.” He turned around again, headed for the river, when Daisy stopped him by calling his name. “Yeah?”
She came to him in three long strides, wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a hard hug. “Thank you. For the rabbit.”
She was so close, so warm, pressed so intimately against him that all of Jericho’s carefully designed reticence and resistance melted away. He’d been on edge for the past two days. Damn hard to maintain a tough shell around a woman so determinedly positive. But he’d cautioned himself to keep that safe distance between them. To not get drawn in by big amber eyes and a wide, welcoming smile.
But she was the kind of woman who got under a man’s skin whether he wanted her there or not. Hell, he’d been fighting the urge to kiss her for hours. No, that urge had been with him since the moment she’d first stepped out of her car to sprawl across his lawn.
Now, with her lush curves leaning into him and her full, delectable mouth curved into a smile directed at him, how was he supposed to resist temptation? He doubted any red-blooded male would have been able to.
So he did what his body demanded and silently told his mind to butt out. Cupping her face in his palms, he held her still and watched as her eyes widened, softened, then slowly slid closed. A soft sigh of anticipation slipped from between her lips and Jericho kissed her.
The first taste of her was electric—incredible—and only fueled his hunger for more. He deepened the kiss and felt her surrender. Felt his own body begin a slow burn that enveloped him from head to toe. He held her face and moved his mouth over hers, parting her lips with his tongue, sliding into her mouth to capture the essence of her and draw it into himself.
His body tightened until he thought he might just explode from the agony of want. She moaned softly and he echoed that small sound and felt it build within him. Seconds ticked past, became minutes and might have spun into hours and he wouldn’t have known. Wouldn’t have sensed anything beyond the sensations roaring through him.
And that random thought was enough to bring him up and out of those feelings like a drowning man breaching the surface of a lake. He came up gasping, his heartbeat thundering in his chest, his blood pounding in his ears. He’d lost himself in her. Completely lost control in a way that hadn’t happened to him in years. He didn’t like it.
She opened her eyes and looked directly into his. Her mouth was soft and lush and he wanted nothing more than to taste her again. To lay her down on the forest floor and bury himself deep inside her. And because that craving was so strong, he took a single, deliberate step back. What the hell was he doing?
If he had any sense left at all, he’d get her off his mountain so damn fast, she’d be nothing but a blur of motion. But could he not give her the job because he didn’t trust himself around her?
If he hired her, she’d be a constant source of temptation. If he didn’t, wouldn’t it be as if he’d sent her away for his own peace of mind? And wouldn’t that make him a damn coward? He’d promised Brant Saxon to help his sister if she needed it.
He owed that kid, too, Jericho told himself and briefly recalled the eager young man who’d died too soon. The guilt still haunted him. Regret a constant companion. Was Jericho really going to turn his back on a promise made to a dying comrade? Daisy Saxon was here. Now. She needed the help he’d once promised to give.
And if he turned her away, it would be not because she’d failed, not because she didn’t belong, but because Jericho King had encountered a woman who worried him.
Pushing those and other even more disturbing thoughts out of his mind, Jericho said, “Okay, that didn’t just happen.”
“It didn’t?” She blinked at him and her eyes looked dazed.
He knew the feeling, but damned if he’d admit it. “No, it didn’t. I’m the boss, you’re the cook and that’s where it all ends.” He backed up again and half turned toward the river. He took a step, stopped and said over his shoulder, “Start the campfire. I’ll go catch some fish for dinner.”
As he walked away, Daisy lifted her fingers to her lips, enjoying the buzz of sensation lingering there and whispered, “Shouldn’t be a problem starting the fire. I’m already going up in flames.”
As they finished eating two hours later, stars swept across an indigo sky. He hadn’t said much, Daisy mused. But then, he hadn’t had to. She’d known exactly what he was thinking without him saying a word. Mostly because she was thinking the same thing. That kiss they’d shared had set off a chain reaction inside her that was still fizzing like a lit sparkler.
She’d come to him wanting a child. Now, she also wanted him. Which complicated the situation, but didn’t really change anything. And oddly enough, the more he withdrew, the more she was drawn to him. What did that say about her?
When she gathered up the dishes and the pan she’d used to cook in and stacked them to carry to the river to wash, Jericho beat her to it. “I’m supposed to be doing all of this, remember?” she said. “Part of the whole survival-prove-you’re-worthy test?”