He rounded the end of the pool—and found the object of his torment seated on the other side with her bare feet dipped in the water. He stopped abruptly, nearly sinking to the bottom before he had the presence of mind to tread.

The sight before him... Killing me. Flaxen hair glimmered in the sunlight. Tanned skin appeared brushed with hints of copper and gold. A white tank and faded jean shorts hugged the very curves he’d had underneath him almost twenty-four hours ago.

A rush of testosterone...endorphins...whatever revved him up. “I thought I fired you,” he said, annoyed by the way his heartbeat sped up.

“Congrats! You’ve just rehired me.” She whipped a small object from her back pocket and grinned at him—a wicked grin that made him as uneasy as it did hot. “To celebrate, I brought you a present.”

As he reluctantly swam closer, she lifted her fingers from the object, one by one...and he came face-to-face with a tube of Preparation H.

He barked out a laugh, the burst of humor as new to him now as it had been the last time. “You really are a pain, you know that?”

“Well, I’m not letting you rub the medication all over me, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”

Wrong words. Provocative words. He lost his amusement in a nanosecond, his mind trapped by images of his hands moving on her, all over her.

Sinking again... He’d been reaching for his erection, because yes, he now had one, his length as hard as a steel pipe. He’d almost stroked himself in front of her.

“You’re not working for me anymore, Brook Lynn.” He meant those words, he really did.

“Please, Jase.” She clapped her hands together, creating a steeple. “Please. I need this job.”

No. Absolutely not. He couldn’t be exposed to this kind of temptation every day.

His silence must have propelled her in another direction. “I still owe you sandwiches, remember?”

“Okay, you’re rehired,” he said, unable to stop the words from leaving his mouth. What the hell was wrong with him? His only excuse was that she gave good lunch. The best he’d ever had.

She rewarded him with a wide, toothy grin. “Thank you, Mr. Hollister. You’re a doll.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he muttered. Though he would have liked nothing more than to climb out of the pool, he continued to tread. He was as far from perfect as she was close to it; his scars might appall her...or lead to questions he wasn’t prepared to answer. “You haven’t heard your new duties.”

“I don’t care what they are,” she said, completely earnest. “I’ll do them.”

Oh, angel. You should have kept those words to yourself. The things I want you to do to me...

This time, his silence must have unnerved her, because she began to babble. “I’m going to work for you from sunup till sundown, and every week you’re going to deduct a hundred dollars from my paycheck, until I’ve paid back every penny you spent on me.”

“Uh, that would be a big, fat no.”

She kicked water at him, saying, “What’s yours is mine, but what’s mine is mine, is that it?”

“Something like that. Which is something you should thank me for, honey.” Something he’d never offered to another woman, but knowing her, she would protest. She always—

“Fine,” she said and sighed. “Don’t take out the money.”

He eyed her with suspicion and thought, Too easy. This has to be a trick. Would he soon find surprise wads of cash stuffed in his dresser drawers?

Bingo. She was just sneaky enough to try it.

He was sneakier.

“Let’s backtrack a bit,” he said. “How can you work for me from sunup to sundown? What about your hours at Rhinestone Cowgirl?” When he’d spoken to Edna the day of Brook Lynn’s injury, her daughter had just returned to town, and the woman had made it sound as though she would be too busy to man the counter herself, that she would need Brook Lynn more than ever.

Brook Lynn waved a hand through the air, dismissing his question as unimportant, even as her eyes filled with shadows. His skeptical nature shouted a high-pitched alert. She’d been fired, hadn’t she?

Part of him was angered on her behalf, demanding he tear the jewelry store apart brick by brick and present the remains to her as a gift. The other part of him just wanted to weep with relief that she would no longer be working herself to the bone.

“If we’re going to do this...if we’re going to make this—” What? It wasn’t a relationship. “This thing between us work, there will have to be a few changes. Or rather, rules.”

“Agreed,” she said with a nod. “And the first is definitely—”

“Uh-uh. I make the rules, honey, not you. The first is definitely no kissing. The second is no thinking about kissing. The third is no flashing me. No matter how badly you want to do it.”

“Hey,” she snapped. “You practically begged me to do it.”

“Be that as it may.” Another glance at her magnificent breasts would finally crumble what remained of his resistance. They’d been so plump and round, her nipples as ripe as the strawberries the town was famous for, tightening under his gaze. And damn it, he was sinking again...his hands like heat-seeking missiles. “I’m going to expect you here at eight every morning, and you’ll stay until eight every night.” It was the only way to ensure his little workhorse wouldn’t go out and get yet another job. “And because I’m increasing your hours, I’m increasing your pay.”