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diminutive everyone addressed her by. “Are you out here all alone?”
    The austere tone he used let her know that fact displeased him. Georgeanne gripped her rake as she assimilated that and wondered what he meant by it. Everyone knew she preferred to do certain jobs alone.
    â€œI just got here,” she said. “I thought it would be a good idea to get the floors raked before the real cleaning starts. Hi, Raza.” She nodded at Dr. Baghri’s wife, who carried a broom and a mop. “In another few minutes, I’ll have the floor cleared of all this junk.”
    â€œIn the future, don’t come out here until Dr. Baghri or Dr. Gant arrives,” Zane said sternly. “You’re out here in the middle of a rice field, with no telephone service and no way to get help if something should happen.”
    â€œI have my cell phone in my purse.” Georgeanne raked trash into a huge pile. “And I knew Dr. Baghri and Raza were due at any minute. In fact, I was hoping to be through raking before they got here.”
    â€œIn the future, don’t do it,” Zane said, in stern tones. “Vijay, I want you to see to it that she isn’t out here by herself anymore.”
    Dr. Baghri said something to the effect that Georgeanne operated on her own timetable and always got things done with efficiency. To Georgeanne’s astonishment, Zane interrupted with a passionate discourse on a man’s responsibility to look out for a woman’s safety. She and Raza Baghri exchanged amused glances.
    For a moment, Georgeanne thought about pointing out that she was not the sort of woman who required manly protection. She thought better of it. Zane Bryant thought she did, and who was she to argue?
    Dr. Baghri gave in. “I will see to it. Georgeanne shall not work here alone any longer.”
    â€œSee that she doesn’t.” Zane looked satisfied, although he grinned when he caught the expression on Georgeanne’s normally serene countenance. “Too bad, Georgie. I know you intend to do exactly as you please. Just so you know, I’m prepared to enforce my dictates.”
    Georgeanne noted the expression of anticipation on his face and wondered how he planned to obtain her obedience. For a brief moment, her spirit rose to the challenge and she considered finding out.
    Zane waded through the trash on the floor and held out his hand. “Here, Georgie. Give me that rake. You can start sweeping off the counter.”
    Georgeanne realized she stood in the presence of a man who intended to see she didn’t strain herself. The idea stunned her into unaccustomed meekness. She handed him the rake and went to fetch a whisk broom from the boxes she carted in her vehicle.
    â€œNow I see why you own an SUV.” Zane raked with vigor. “You use it to haul cleaning supplies around.”
    â€œI do tend to do a lot of hauling.” Georgeanne found herself in what amounted to an alternate universe.
    â€œThat’s what I figured.” He sounded satisfied.
    She whisked off the counter in silence and pondered the meaning of that remark, then glanced over her shoulder. Zane raked a large pile of trash through the door to the outside with great energy. She let her eyes dwell with pleasure on his broad shoulders and his well-shaped backside.
    He had changed into khaki trousers and a madras plaid shirt, and Georgeanne thought he looked twice as handsome in casual clothing. But that was because the blue plaid shirt made his eyes look blue, she decided. Or maybe the dingy walls that caused the newly restored electrical lights to cast a less powerful glow were what darkened his eyes to blue.
    It was no business of hers what color his eyes were.
    Georgeanne whisked at the counter with renewed vigor and wondered what color those eyes would be if she could see them really close up. Say, within six inches of her face.
    What a delicious fantasy. It almost banished from her distracted mind