Still Irresistible

He looked at her, his cheek muscle ticking like a bomb about to blow. “We’d have to cut the herd.”

“About that…” She took a deep breath. “I plan to sell the livestock as soon as it’s feasible. I’ll need you to track the sales so we can maximize our profit.”

“You’re selling the cattle.” The words hung dead in the air.

“We’ve been losing money, especially with the drought. Our only hope is turning the ranch into a resort.”

He stared at her, so she kept talking. “I know you took the foreman job to help Dad and I’m very grateful to you for that.”

Supposedly, he’d been at loose ends after selling his family’s horse ranch after his mother remarried and moved to California, but she knew he’d acted out of kindness.

“If you wanted to leave, I wouldn’t blame you.” She stopped. “Of course, we’d love to keep you through the changeover. If you wanted to become the field manager after that, that would be wonderful. We’ll add trail horses, of course. You’d work more with guests and manage more staff, coordinate the recreational activities and things like that.”

“I’m a rancher, Callie, not some guy with a whistle and a volleyball net.” His voice was low.

“It’s totally up to you. If you decide to leave, just give us time to find and train your replacement.” She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

He looked out toward the horizon for a long silent moment. Finally he turned to her, Brandy shifting impatiently beneath him. “It’s your land. Cal’s and yours. You can do with it what you want. As to my plans, I’ll let you know.”

“Good.” That was that. The worst was over. Deck wasn’t happy, but now he knew the situation and could make his decision.

She took him in. Silhouetted by the glowing sunset sky, he looked like a painting of the last cowboy—noble, proud, connected to the land, full of dignity and strength.

And so sexy. She shivered.

“You cold?” he asked.

“Not really. No.” She wasn’t about to explain. “But the light’s fading. We should get back.”

Without another word, they turned their horses and headed downhill. Poor Wiley snorted and sagged as his tired knees took on the gentle slope. In the distance the ranch house glowed a golden welcome from the big picture windows. Smaller lights lit the few guest rooms in use.

That would all change. She’d build a new two-story wing of guest rooms and five new casitas. Besides updating the ranch house and old casitas, she’d landscape ten more acres around the ranch, put in a pool and a tennis court, not to mention the four-star spa. She would work her magic as quickly as she could, then escape.

At the base of the hill, Deck turned to the east, taking a different trail back—the one to the hot springs. She wanted to say Not now, not with you, but what excuse could she give?

Soon they rounded the bend to the main pool, five feet across, edged by large stones. Farther on, there were two smaller pools, one set away from the others, marked as private for the family’s use. In the summer, the entire area was bright with the red, orange and yellow of desert wildflowers.

“Remember this?” he asked her.

“Of course,” she said, meeting his gaze, heat like a hot wire between them. She looked down to the water, settling herself. Wiley shifted beneath her, reacting to her tension. “Is the water level constant? The heat? Is it mucky at all?”

“It’s the same, Callie,” he said. “Still deep, still nature’s hot surprise.”

“That’s good to hear.”

She was flooded with the memory of stripping in the night chill of early spring, slipping through the steam to meet Deck, naked and waiting for her. Sheltered by the rough stones, up to their necks in the water, breathing in the earthy smell, they’d seemed like the first man and woman in the garden.

That was so long ago. Wiley side-stepped, picking up her distress. “We’ll improve this, of course.” She had to stick to the task before her, not get lost in nostalgia or regret.

“Huh?”

“We need concrete steps and a handrail, for one thing. For safety and convenience.”

“You want to turn it into some Holiday Inn hot tub?”

“I’ve studied hot springs all over the Southwest. This is the norm, Deck.”

“It’s fine the way it is. Natural and beautiful.”

“It’ll be that, but better. I want to dig out the smaller pools. Maybe open up a fourth where the water slides down the rocks?” She pointed. “Fence it off so guests can reserve it for clothing-optional soaks.”

His expression made her decide not to mention the massage ramada, changing room and meditation garden she planned.

“They’re your springs,” Deck said wearily.

She could explain her reasoning, but what was the point? Deck loved the ranch as it was. She wouldn’t change his mind any more than he could change hers.

So, she simply turned Wiley toward home.

Catching sight of the barn, the tired horse lunged into a lope. Callie tightened her body and leaned forward, enjoying the free feeling and the speed for a few lovely moments.

Making the corral a few yards before Deck, Callie started to dismount to open the gate, praying her jeans had stretched out enough to allow her to do so with dignity. She was halfway down when Brandy arrived. She must have nipped Wiley’s hindquarters, because her horse whinnied and barreled forward. Callie landed on her butt in the dirt, biting her tongue and bruising her rear.

Deck was off Brandy in an instant to help her. “You okay?”

“I’b vine,” she managed, over her burning tongue. She grabbed her hat, pushed to her feet, then shoved the hat down hard, not allowing herself even a grimace from the pain. She moved for the gate, but her legs had that first-ride stiffness and she stumbled a bit.

Deck caught her arm, then brushed the dust from the back of her jeans. It was an innocent Eagle Scout gesture, but his hand was on her and he stood so close that the cedar, leather, sunshine smell of him made her go weak in the knees.

She stepped back to collect herself. “Thanks. I’m fine. Really.” She moved as if to loosen the saddle.

“I’ll put up the horses. Go on to supper,” Deck said, his voice rough, telling her he’d been affected, too.

“Okay, then. Thanks. Again.” She backed up, then bumped into the fence, flustered by the moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his gaze not letting go.

“Tomorrow. Sure.” She turned to walk away. Was he watching her? What was he thinking? And why did it matter?

He thought her plan was nuts. He was wrong and she intended to prove it to him. If he would just stop being so damned sexy all the time. And smelling so good. And the touching had to stop. Absolutely.

In fact, if she didn’t need his ranch expertise, she’d be half-glad if he decided not to stay at all.

4

DECK SLAPPED his gesso-loaded brush in big aimless strokes across the solitary rider he’d painted, covering it up for good. The piece was as wrong as Callie was about the ranch. She planned to turn the Triple C into a place where the guests bitched if the ice came cubed instead of crushed.

Deck itched to take the place in hand, fine tune the operation, start raising certified organic beef, despite the tough requirements. The challenge appealed to him.