Judy Duarte – The Boss, the Bride & the Baby (страница 7)
A slight smile tugged at her lips, but she tried to tamp it down. All she needed was to lower her guard to the point of doing or saying something she’d regret. And if she’d learned anything out here in the moonlight, she was going to have to stay on her toes around a man like Jason Rayburn.
If he were like his brother, it wouldn’t be an issue. She knew Braden as well as she knew anyone in Brighton Valley. His mother’s family had been ranching in these parts for years. His grandfather was on the town council for a while. And his mom was involved in the women’s auxiliary at the Wexler Community Church. He came from decent people. In fact, she often wondered what his mom had ever seen in his father—especially if what she’d heard about Charles Rayburn was true.
In spite of herself, Juliana risked another glance at Jason, watched him take a drink of his wine, then stare out into the night sky, where a full moon and a splatter of stars glistened overhead.
But the stars weren’t the only things sparking. Her pregnancy hormones were surely coming into play and had to be triggering unwelcome romantic thoughts, which were totally inappropriate. She blamed it on her recent betrayal, the stillness of the evening and, yes, maybe a growing attraction.
For all those reasons, she couldn’t continue to sit outside with him tonight. It could only lead to trouble—or at the very least, temptation.
She had a job to do—one that paid better than could be expected. And she intended to make the best of it.
Even if she didn’t land an interview or a possible position with Rayburn Energy or Rayburn Enterprises, she could use a good recommendation, because she wasn’t likely to get a very good one from the gallery.
In fact, after the details of her romance and breakup became known within local art circles—and they certainly could have by now—she knew better than to ask for any kind of reference at all.
Juliana had lost track of how many sheep had jumped over her bed that night—surely a flock that would make a Basque sheepherder rich.
Blaming the two goblets of orange juice she’d drunk while on the porch with Jason for her need to get up every couple of hours, she gave up the struggle for sleep just after midnight. She remembered reading somewhere that warm milk might help, but there wasn’t any in the refrigerator. Chamomile tea was another option, although she didn’t recall seeing anything like that in the pantry.
A trip to the market was definitely in order, especially if she was going to do any more cooking while she was on the Rayburn ranch. Since she was wide-awake, she figured she might as well head to the kitchen and start a grocery list.
With that in mind, she rolled out of bed and pulled her robe from the closet. She didn’t bother with slippers. As she took a moment to stroke the slight bulge of her womb, she pondered the phrase
How fitting was that?
As she opened the door, she noticed the light on in the den. Had Jason forgotten to turn it off when he went to bed?
She padded down the hall. When she turned into the doorway, she spotted him seated at the desk, glaring into the screen of his laptop. She studied him for a moment.
He’d run his fingers through his hair numerous times this evening. Yet even mussed, it didn’t appear the least bit scruffy. Compliments of a highly paid stylist, no doubt.
He frowned as he stared at his laptop, his brow furrowed. Yet even the intensity of his expression didn’t take away from his appeal.
She had no idea how long she stood there gazing at him, admiring his handsome profile, as well as his work ethic. A couple of minutes, she supposed.
Finally, he looked up and noticed her watching him in the doorway. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
She smiled. “I never really went to sleep. What are you doing?”
“Problem solving. At least, that’s what I’m trying to do. We’re working on a marketing strategy that hasn’t been coming together for us, and I’ve been racking my brain to figure out what’s missing.”
“I wish I could help.”
“So do I, but the best brains at Rayburn Energy, including the head of the marketing department, haven’t been able to agree on the best layout.” He pushed away from the desk. “I’m not sure if I should put on a pot of coffee or call it a night.”
“I’d think caffeine is the last thing you need right now.”
He tossed her a boyish grin. “You’re probably right. Too bad we don’t have any ice cream or cookies.”
“I’ll put dessert on my grocery list. That is, if you want me to do any shopping for meals tomorrow.”
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but now that you mention it, I suppose we’ll have to find time to eat during the day. I don’t mind calling out for food, but if you want to pick up groceries, that’s fine with me.”
“We can play it by ear. But I’ll whip up something for dinner tomorrow.” She glanced at the clock and smiled. “Make that tonight. So what’ll it be? Chocolate or vanilla?”
“If you’re talking ice cream, let’s go with rocky road. I like nuts.”
“I’ll keep that in mind as I start that list.” She reached for the black leather cup on top of the desk that held pencils and pens. “Do you have any paper?”
He took a pad that rested near the laptop and handed it to her. “Here you go.” Then he returned his gaze to the screen that had him so perplexed.
“Can I take a look at it?” she asked. “Maybe I can help.”
Jason bit back a smile, which had been better than the chuckle that almost slipped out. The problem had stymied experienced execs with MBAs. Juliana had no experience in the business world.
Okay, so she’d worked as a sales clerk at an art gallery in Wexler. But still, she didn’t have the background that would provide her with the experience or the expertise she needed to actually know what she’d be looking for.
But what the hell.
He rolled back his chair, making room for her to see the screen. Then, using the mouse, he showed her the latest artwork and the graphics the marketing department had sent him earlier this evening.
“I see what you mean,” she said. “Something’s definitely missing. It doesn’t have any spark.”
She had that right. And while everyone knew something was missing, no one seemed to know quite what that something was.
“I think,” she said, “if you merged the wording of number three with the graphics of number four, then used the background of number one, it would be a lot closer to what you’re looking for.”
“Maybe so,” he said. “I’ll give that some thought. Thanks.”
As she stood beside him, he caught a whiff of her scent—something soft and exotic. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting her to be wearing. Something down-home and country, he supposed. Something more suited to Brighton Valley. But then again, she was city bound. Why wouldn’t she have a more sophisticated air? But did her scent come from her perfume or lotion? Or perhaps from her shampoo?
He glanced at her wild, bed-tousled curls, which gave her a sexy look that the frumpy cotton robe couldn’t hide.
What a contradiction she seemed—country vs. city. Lady vs. vixen.
Once again, his attraction built to the point he found it impossible to downplay or ignore, especially at this late hour, with several bedrooms down the hall to choose from.
Unable to help himself, he reached out and twined a loose red curl around his finger. “Has anyone ever asked you if your hair color is real?”
She sucked in a breath, yet she didn’t pull away. “Yes, they have. And it is.”
“I know it’s real. I remember you when you were a girl. It’s just that the shade is so...remarkable. Most people might question whether it was possible for something that pretty to be natural.”
Their gazes met and locked. For a moment, he could have sworn their breathing stopped.
Then she took a step back, and as her hair tightened against his finger, he let it uncoil.
While he might have released their physical connection, something else held them taut. Something he could almost reach out and touch.
She bit down on her bottom lip, then placed her hand over her stomach. He’d seen her make that nervous gesture before, which seemed to be unique to her. Other women nibbled a nail or twisted a strand of hair around a finger seductively. But he’d never seen another stroke her belly.
He found it kind of cute—the gesture, as well as the fact that he made her nervous.
She took another step back, clearly uncomfortable with the heat sparking between them, and nodded toward the doorway. “I’m going to start that grocery list now. And then I’ll try to get some sleep. Otherwise I won’t be worth a thing tomorrow.”
He sensed that she was the kind of woman who’d be worth her weight in gold—either as an employee or a lover. But he damn well couldn’t have her as both. So he let her go.
As he heard her bare feet pad down the hardwood floor, he glanced back at the screen, which displayed the artwork the head of marketing had sent him. He tried to imagine the changes Juliana had mentioned, realizing they did have some merit.
The woman might not have a business background, but she did have some experience with art—if you could give her points for working at what had to be a two-bit gallery in a town that wasn’t much bigger than Brighton Valley.