It consisted of three shapely female rear ends, each wiggling enticingly.

Maddie, Delia and Zoe all stood in varied positions, painting the front of the main house. Ty could have told them it was hopeless, that some of the siding needed to be replaced first and the trim was all but shot.

But it would have been useless and heartless since he doubted they could afford to have the place fixed properly, anyway. If a cosmetic upgrade was what they wanted, they were doing a fine job.

So he held his tongue and soaked up the interesting sight. Zoe saw him first, when she backed down from her stepladder. Surprise registered, then annoyance, then the expected temper. "You were staring at us," she accused him, dipping her roller into the paint. The sun lit her hair like fire. Her eyes were lit the same way, but it wasn't from the sun.

He rocked back on his heels, enjoying himself. "Yep."

Zoe's eyes narrowed at him, then she turned as if to confirm what he'd been looking at. Delia and Maddie were still painting, which meant their nice rears were still rocking and rolling.

Zoe's teeth were grinding together when she looked at him again. "Get a nice show?"

For weeks now Ty had been struggling to break through Zoe's barriers. He'd tried sweet-talking, he'd tried humor and sharp wit. He'd even tried seduction, and all it had gotten him was a bellyful of Zoe's fist.

Her indifference remained, except for when he infuriated her, which was surprisingly easy. Then he got a full range of emotions, mostly anger.

He'd take what he could get. Besides, he loved the spark that rage brought to her usually pale cheeks. Loved the heat in her eyes and the way her body reacted, whether she was aware of it or not. "Very nice show, thanks." He grinned. "Don't stop on my account."

"Was there something you wanted?" she asked from a clenched jaw.

"You know, you have a bad habit of talking like that, all tightened up. You're going to have jaw problems later on in life."

"Thanks for the tip. Now, if you'll excuse us…"

Delia and Maddie put down their rollers. It was late afternoon, and each of them had pink noses from being out in the sun. Delia still looked predictably put together, signaling she'd taken plenty of breaks. So did Maddie.

But Zoe had a streak of paint across one cheek and exhausted eyes.

Ty had already put in a full day training horses. More than a full day, actually, since one of his trainers had been sick. He'd been up since before dawn and was as exhausted as Zoe looked. All he wanted was a hot shower, lots of food and some sleep, and not necessarily in that order.

Zoe, still glaring at him, swiped at a strand of hair blowing in her eyes. In the process she streaked more paint across her face and hair. Her shoulders drooped imperceptibly.

From too much work? Or the prospect of what she still had to do?

Either way, dammit, he was stuck.

Hell. "Give me a roller," he muttered.

"Here," Delia said quickly, handing her roller over without a qualm. "You don't have to ask me twice." She winked at Zoe and brushed her hands together. "Darn, now I don't have anything to do. Guess I'll head inside…"

Zoe shook her head in disgust and watched her sister leave. She turned to Maddie. "Go ahead," she said. "You take a break, too, you've been at this all day."

"So have you." Maddie swiped at her forehead, dipped her roller and started to lift it to the wood.

"It's okay, we've got it," Zoe insisted. "Go on, Mad, rest it. Okay?"

"Okay, but I'm making dinner, then." Slowly Maddie set down the roller, then looked at Ty. "You won't let her chase you off, will you?"

He smiled at her. "If you're cooking? Not a chance."

"All right, good. Stay and eat with us."

His smile spread, and it was genuine. "I'm not arguing."

Zoe was silent until Maddie had gone into the house. "We don't need any charity help."

"You've been feeding me for several weeks now, so we'll just call it even."

"I doubt a little food can compare to the work you've put into this place."

"I'm still manager, Zoe."

Her movements as she painted were jerky and it wasn't from inexperience. He'd caused it. He wondered if their close proximity disturbed her as much as it did him.

"I've had enough people in my life who've tried to manage me," she grated, rolling paint. More rolling, almost violent now. "And I don't intend to ever have another."

"I'm not trying to 'manage' you, Zoe. Just doing my job."

"Same thing."

He watched her paint and wondered how to break through to her. "Have I ever asked you to do something you don't want to?"

She ignored him, which stirred his own temper. He took her wrist, held it still to stop her movements and leaned close. "Have I?"

"No," she admitted, tugging at the wrist he refused to loosen.

"Stop holding on to your painful past like a shield, Zoe. I'm not the enemy."

Silence. Her mouth tightened and that was it, he was tired of fighting her. "Zoe?"

She stopped struggling but didn't look at him, so he simply yanked her closer. "It's time to live," he said, not very kindly. "Live for yourself. And dammit, why don't you try to enjoy it for a change?"

Chapter 9

The fire in Zoe's eyes defied description. "I am enjoying myself."

He let out a little laugh but didn't release her. "I can see that."

"I am!"

"You're a liar."

"That's it," she fumed, dropping her roller and shoving him back. Paint splattered over both of their feet. "Oh, great, just great." She lifted a tennis shoe for inspection. "I'll never get these clean now."

"You should be wearing boots out here, I've told you that. And gloves, too, dammit, to protect your hands. I thought you got some new gloves. Where are they?"

With a guilty gesture, she reached into her back pocket and he saw the new gloves tucked there. Fresh and unused, when her hands were red and chafed. He didn't want to think about that strange bursting thing that happened to his insides, knowing that the gloves were a novelty and she didn't want to get them dirty.

"Boots, at least," he said gruffly.

"Yeah, well, boots cost money."

"You know how to remedy the money problem, Zoe. The offer stands."

Which was apparently not the right thing to say. She rounded on him with fresh fury. "Can't you just leave?"

"Maddie invited me to dinner."

"I want you to go."

"That would suit you just fine, wouldn't it? Then you wouldn't have to face this."

"Face what?"

"Us."

She shook her head and backed up a step, eyes wide with what he would have sworn was panic. "No," she said unevenly. "There's no us. You've gotten the wrong idea, that's all."

He pulled her back so that they were face-to-face. "From the very first moment I saw you, we've been sparking off each other. Tell me you haven't felt it- Careful," he warned when she started to shake her head in denial. "I watch the pulse leap in your neck when I come close. I hear your breath catch when I look at you, and when I touch you…" His voice thickened as his own words made him hot. "And when I put my hands on you, I feel you quiver."

"Sounds like the flu to me." But her voice shook. So did her smile. "I think it's passing now. You should go… you know, before you catch it."

"I'm not budging, Zoe. It's time to have this out."

"Look, Ty, don't take this personally. But I don't have it out with anyone."

"You have a terrible habit of hiding your feelings, Zoe."

"That's a little like the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?"

"No. I have feelings and I show them. For instance, in case you haven't noticed, I'm turned on right now."

"I've noticed," she muttered, avoiding his gaze.

He cupped her jaw so she had no choice but to look at him. "For weeks I've been trying to break through to you, struggling to get past that damn block wall you keep putting up. I'm tired of being patient."

Incredulous, she stared at him. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don't want you to 'break through'? That I'm just perfectly fine and don't need you?"

"No."

She let out a little laugh and gripped the front of his shirt in fistfuls, though whether to keep him at bay or hold him close he had no idea and suspected she didn't, either. "I've been trying for weeks, too-to ignore you."

"I know. And I'm tired of that, too, tired of you pretending you don't care when I can see the passion burning in your eyes-passion for me!"

She tried to laugh again, then tried to scoff at him, but failed at both. Instead, she clamped her mouth tight, looking suddenly vulnerable and nervous. "You're mistaken," she told him, pale now. "I'm not a… passionate sort. I'm not the kind of woman to have it burning in her eyes, much less-" She bit her lip.

"Much less what, Zoe?"

"Much less cause it in you."

He could see she wasn't kidding, so he held back his startled laugh. God, could she really believe that about herself? "Zoe, I don't even have to see you to feel it. I just think about you and it happens. You're one of the most passionate people I know."

Dropping her head back, she stared up at the sky. "Why won't you just go away? I really don't want to talk about this."

She'd been hurt, that was obvious. At least one person had taught her that to feel hurts, and at the moment be wanted badly to hurt that someone. Instead he gentled both his hold and his voice. "It's time to let go, Zoe. Let go of what has hurt you. The past is over."

"I feel, you know. I feel for this place."

"Feel for me."