Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
After dinner Jo excused herself from the table and headed for her study to figure out which bills she should pay and which ones she could stuff back in the shoe box.
She’d never completely understood Josephine’s bookkeeping system, so she’d come up with one of her own, but even she had to admit it wasn’t adequate.
She should have stuck with those accounting classes, but it was a little late to worry about that now.
The process of bill paying always left her stomach in knots, but it was her responsibility.
After an hour of figuring and refiguring, she kept coming to the same conclusion.
She needed some quick cash, and one of her best mares had produced an outstanding foal.
She had to sell Clarise and Stud-muffin.
She wrote down the decision so it felt irreversible.
Sherry, the vet who was coming out early the next morning to inseminate the mares with Sir Lust-a-Lot’s sperm, had mentioned she had a buyer for Clarise once she’d foaled successfully.
Sherry knew Jo’s financial problems well — the vet had let bills slide many times in the past. Keeping Clarise and Stud-muffin was selfish and financially irresponsible, Jo decided, and she couldn’t afford either behavior.
With the decision made she got up from her desk and paced the small room while she tried to come to grips with losing one of her favorite mares.
Aunt Josephine had taught her not to get sentimentally attached to the cattle, but even tough-minded Josephine had hated selling a horse, including the ones who misbehaved or who were too old and swaybacked to carry a rider.
Someone tapped on her study door. Drawing an unsteady breath, she walked over and opened it.
Quinn took one look at her and reached out a hand to cup her cheek. “What is it?”
She forced a smile. “Nothing. Ranch business.”
He combed her hair over her ear. “I thought you were probably in here wrestling with your finances. I wish you’d be willing to discuss the situation with me.”
“I did.” Her emotions lay close to the surface, and his gentle touch threatened to bring tears. She stepped out of reach. “I told you I needed to stall Doobie until September, when I could make another payment on my loan.”
He allowed his hand to fall to his side, and there was a flash of hurt in his eyes. “I’m sure there’s more to the problem than that.” His glance flicked to the shoe box. “If you’d tell me what’s going on, I might be able to help you work through it.”
“Quinn, you can’t be my financial adviser, even if I wanted you to, which I don’t. You’re leaving on Sunday.”
“So what?” He motioned toward the telephone sitting on her desk. “That’s the connection I have with my clients, for the most part.”
She stared at him for several seconds. Then she lowered her voice. “Quinn, you can’t have it both ways. You can’t beg me to make love to you one minute and offer to provide long-distance financial counseling the next. The two just don’t go together.”
He studied her. Finally he shook his head. “You’re right, dammit. If we make love tonight—”
“Shh.” Jo glanced into the hall before pulling him inside the room and closing the door. “For heaven’s sake. It’s an old house. The walls have ears.”
“Then let’s stop talking.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. “Mmm. That’s better,” he said, lifting his head.
Well, at least he’d taken her mind off her troubles, she thought as warmth surged through her. “Are you...” She stopped to catch her breath. His kisses packed a wallop. “Are you trying to influence my eleven o’ clock decision?”
He studied her face for several long seconds. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“I came in here to see if I could help you with your books.”
She wound her arms around his waist and fit herself against the jut of his obvious erection. “Uh-huh.”
“Honest. And now you tell me the only way I can possibly help is if we don’t make love tonight.” He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “You sure know how to hurt a guy.”
“I don’t want you to help me with the books.” But he could help her forget that she’d soon be selling Clarise and Stud-muffin.
“You should want me to. I’m very good at it.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I’m more interested in finding out what else you’re very good at.
” She rubbed sensuously against him and kissed the hollow of his throat.
What she’d never admit to him was that she was embarrassed to have him look at her books and discover they were in total disarray.
A professional like Quinn would probably go into shock if he could see the mess she’d made.
She’d rather shock a stranger, if it came to that.
No, she didn’t want Quinn’s financial advice, but if she’d allow him to, Quinn could certainly get her through this rough patch.
By impersonating Hastings, he was postponing her financial crisis, and by making wonderful love to her he could make her forget her worries, at least for a little while, and that was worth quite a bit.
Quinn groaned. “Damn, but you make it tough to be noble.” He took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her away. “But I’m going to give it a shot. Show me your ledgers.”
She couldn’t admit that she wasn’t sure what ledgers were, exactly, so she reached for the top button of her blouse. “I’d much rather show you my—”
“No.” He gripped her hand and closed his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m stopping you from unbuttoning your blouse. I must be out of my mind.” He held her hand tighter and opened his eyes to gaze at her intently. “Jo, this is for your own good. Forget sex.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Not yet. I may start on Fred’s rotgut after this conversation.
Listen, forget everything I said to you out in the corral.
Think about your commitment to the ranch.
I can help you keep that commitment. Use my services.
Please.” He released her hand and stepped away from her.
Although a muscle in his jaw twitched as if the effort was costing him, he kept his arms at his sides.
He was magnificent. As much as he wanted her, he’d deny himself in order to help her achieve her goals. “Why are you doing this?” she murmured.
For a moment he looked confused. “Because I—because that’s the best thing for you.”
“But not for you,” she said softly.
“My needs aren’t as important as yours right now.”
She wondered if he knew he was falling in love with her.
Just as she was falling in love with him.
Their relationship would be short and intense, but at least it would exist. She wasn’t going to squander this chance at a moment of happiness for the possibility of straightening out some dry old ledgers, if she even had ledgers, which she doubted.
She took a long, shaky breath. “I absolutely refuse to allow you to get involved in my financial affairs,” she said.
“Jo, don’t—”
“But I’m looking forward to our brief but significant love affair. Never mind all that signaling nonsense. I’ll be at the barn at eleven with a blanket. Now go on out to the bunkhouse before Emmy Lou begins to wonder what we’re doing in here so long with the door closed.”
He shook his head, but his ragged breathing indicated he was greatly tempted by her offer in spite of his noble intentions. “You’re making a mistake. Please reconsider.”
She shook her head. “You don’t have to show up at the barn, though, if it would compromise your principles.”
His laugh was dry as he gazed at her with fire in his eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m not that strong. I’ll be there.”