"You have three kids?"

Tate Pardell ran his hand through his thick, dark-brown hair and took a second look at the young woman who sat across from his desk. When she'd walked into his office at Pardell Construction, his first look had been long and appreciative. She wasn't beautiful, but with those green eyes, auburn curls and an abundance of freckles — never mind the delicious curves — his reaction hadn't been an appropriate one, considering she was interviewing for the position of housekeeper.

As Anita Sutton's cheeks reddened, her chin lifted. "I know you advertised for a housekeeper, never expecting a...a family. But I really need this job, Mr. Pardell. And my kids, well —"

"I need a housekeeper, but I was looking for someone older, with no attachments. Like my last one."

"Why did she leave?" Anita asked.

Tate leaned back in the mahogany captain's chair, studying Anita carefully. He had intended to do the interviewing, but she had turned the tables on him. He decided that was okay for the moment.

"Dorothy turned sixty-five last year, and when I moved into a new house, she said it was too big for her to handle. She decided to retire and went to live with her sister in Waco."

Disconcerted by the eagerness in Anita's green eyes, he read her résumé again. "You don't have any experience as a housekeeper."

"I'm a mother, Mr. Pardell, so I'm a housekeeper every day of my life. As you can see from my résumé, I've waitressed for years. But I'm also self-taught on computers. A while back, I took a course on Web design and started a business. I have a few clients and hope to get more. I want to grow my business so I don't have to waitress or be a housekeeper."

"So this job would be only temporary?"

Dressed in black slacks and a cream oxford shirt, Anita fiddled with the button-down collar now, as if she were nervous...as if what he decided mattered a lot.

"I'm sure it will take at least a year until my Web design business can support us. You said you need someone now, and here I am."

Yes. Here she was.

Every time he looked at her face, his blood moved a little faster — maybe a lot faster. His gaze rested on a group photo of his employees rather than on her and he was reminded of the reason he'd advertised for a housekeeper. He threw an annual barbecue for his staff. It was a tradition. He needed a housekeeper who could put it together in the next couple of weeks and not be dismayed by the prospect. He needed a woman who could make his house run smoothly so he didn't have to think about it. A woman who would prepare meals and stow them away, so when he came home late he'd have more to eat than beef jerky.

"How old are your kids?" he asked warily. He'd never had any experience with children, and he wasn't sure he wanted it now.

The sweetest smile he'd ever seen spread across Anita's lips. "My twins, Corey and Jared, are five. Little Marie is ten-and-a-half months old."

The surprises kept coming. "You have a baby?"

"She's a very good baby, Mr. Pardell. A sound sleeper. I can't promise you won't know we're around, but I'm a good mother. I don't let the boys run wild, and I keep Marie close."

Picturing this woman as a mother unsettled Tate terribly. Maybe it was because of the stirring he felt when he looked at her. Or maybe it was because his desire and the pictures that came with it didn't go hand in hand with the tableau of a woman caring for children.

"Do you have anyone else who's interviewed for this position?" Anita asked.

Hell, yes, he'd had other women interview for the position! None that he wanted to consider, though. They either didn't do windows, didn't cook or didn't like being stuck out of town on a ranch. There had been one who had sashayed in with long, red fingernails and bleached-blond hair with a look in her eye that told him being Mrs. Tate Pardell was high on her priority list.

In eastern Texas, Pardell Construction was a name that had become well known over the past few years. Tate was proud of his accomplishments and most of the decisions he'd made that had brought him to the place where he was now — respected in the community and financially secure. And more than one woman had seen him as a prize. He'd misjudged the last one and had gotten badly burned. With her innocent vulnerable demeanor, Anita Sutton didn't look as if she had a deceptive bone in her body, but he wasn't so easily fooled now.

"I've interviewed a few other applicants," he finally answered tactfully.

"Let me show you what I can do," Anita responded with some excitement in her voice, sliding to the edge of her chair.

"Show me?"

"Yes. Let me come to your house this weekend and cook a meal for you. Hire me temporarily if you must, until I can prove to you that this can work."

Deciding to see how honest she could be, he asked, "So what's the reason you want this job so badly?" He tried to keep his voice conversationally even, but he wanted the truth. He was going to see if she would give it.

When Anita looked down at her hands, her curly, shoulder- length hair hid her face. Then she raised her gaze to his once more. "When my husband died a year ago, I vowed to my kids I'd provide them with a good life. I don't want to just take care of their basic needs — I want to send them to college. That's why I took that adult-ed class on Web design. But Larry left bills. I have to pay medical expenses for the week after the accident...the week before he died. In addition, I had more medical bills when Marie was born. I'm not covering our expenses as a waitress, and last month my rent went up again. I need something steady that pays more until my business gets off the ground. The salary you offered is generous, and the room and board would be a godsend. I could save a lot of my salary, pay off debts and then build a small nest egg."

He knew what she was saying could be true. However, before he sampled her cooking, before he tested her as a housekeeper, he had to know more about those kids. He just couldn't imagine three of them underfoot. Then again, he wasn't home that much.

"Are your boys in school yet?"

"They start Tuesday. All day in kindergarten."

As he checked his watch, he asked, "So they're home now?"

"I have a neighbor who babysits for me. She comes to my apartment."

Making a decision, he stood. "All right, I want to meet them."

When he came around the desk, he saw her eyes start at his boots and run up his six-foot-two frame. It made him hot, thinking she was checking him out in the same way that he'd appraised her.

"Now?" she asked, her voice high and unsure. He wanted to catch the kids unawares. He wanted to see her place. He wanted to find out what kind of woman she was before he seriously considered employing her and let her into his house. "Yes, now. Is that a problem?"

When she rose, too, she seemed like such a little bit of a thing. Maybe five-foot-four? "No...No problem. Uh, do you want my address?"

"I'll follow you." When she looked troubled, he asked,

"What's wrong? Is there a reason you don't want me to go home with you now?" He wondered if she'd been lying about something and he was going to catch her in it.

Blushing again, she admitted, "It's just that my apartment might not be straightened up."

"Might not?"

She gave a nervous little laugh. "Well, with kids..." She stopped, not wanting to sink her chances of getting the job.

"Yes? With kids?"

"Never mind," she said, turning toward the door.

"Let's go." Without another look at him, she pushed open the glass door to Pardell Construction and went outside into the bright August day.

Tate followed her, wondering just what in the heck he was getting himself into.

As Anita cast a glance at Tate Pardell following her in his red SUV, she was a nervous wreck. She did need this job. Desperately. Her debts included the charges Larry had racked up on their credit card before he died. She didn't know how she was going to do it, but she wanted to pay back the people they owed.

When she snuck a peek at Tate again and caught the intent expression under his tan Stetson as he drove, her pulse raced. She'd never expected to be attracted to him. She'd scoped him out on the Internet before calling because she wouldn't move her kids into just anyone's house. Not that she could tell character from a few newspaper articles, but she'd learned enough to make her set up the interview. He had money, that was true. He'd dated lots of women — model types — that was also true. However, he was involved in charitable work. There had been a picture of him serving soup at a shelter for the homeless. He apparently helped out every weekend during the winter months. A man who did that on his free time had to have some place in his heart that was filled with goodness. At least enough goodness that she and her kids would be safe in his house.

Meeting him had reinforced her opinion.

Truth be told, she didn't expect much of men anymore. Her father had disappeared before she was born and Larry had certainly let her down. But she wouldn't be involved in Tate Pardell's personal life; she'd be his employee — his housekeeper — and that was all she cared about.

On Friday afternoons, curbside parking in front of her apartment was available. Her unit was one of eight in a two-story building. It wasn't in the best part of town, but she had good neighbors. She'd hung a dried-flower wreath on the door and planted marigolds in a window box decorating the single window. After she pulled to a stop, she heard the purr of Tate's engine behind her as he parked. Climbing out of her car, she led the way to her doorstep.

When Tate met her there, he muttered, "I hope you don't go out alone at night." He glanced at the abandoned building next to the apartment, then across the street, where the row houses were run-down.

Her shoulders squared. "Clear Springs is too small to have a high crime rate."

"No place is immune from drugs and guns these days," he returned.

"If I could move us into a better area, I would," she said defensively.

With one booted foot on the first step, his hand in one pocket, his Stetson drawn low, he gave her a penetrating look. Then he responded, "Yes, I suppose you would." He motioned in front of him. "Lead the way."

The August afternoon was almost balmy, and a breeze lifted a few curls along her cheek. As she passed Tate, his forearm brushed her wrist and she felt the contact in too many places. Covering her sudden awareness of him, she found her house key on the ring and unlocked the door.