something about that option, and if you don’t shake your fanny and get it done in the very near future, I’m going to start legal proceedings to force a decision out of you.”
Smugly, Gard folded his arms. “Why don’t you do that? You’ll discover one thing about me, Sassy Whitfield. I don’t take kindly to threats, and I guarantee that if you bring this to the courts, I’ll have my lawyers drag it out so long, you and I will both be too old to care who owns the land in this valley by the time it’s settled.”
Cass’s anger was shrinking, becoming less general and thus better defined. As infuriating as it was, Gard was not going to be bullied into a quick decision, nor was the threat of a lawsuit going to speed him up. She had vowed to remain cool and collected during this meeting, and instead had behaved like a shrew.
But why had he kissed her? And why had she liked it, when she was so opposed to everything Gard Sterling and every other freewheeling, skirt-chaser represented? That’s what he’d been fourteen years ago, and he’d proved this afternoon that he was exactly the same, no matter how vociferously he claimed to be a respectable citizen these days.
The result of this second dismal meeting was that she had still gained no ground on that option. Maybe the only positive thing that had come out of it was the knowledge that he was going to take his own sweet time and she could like it or lump it. It was a frustrating moment, because she could almost see her chance to buy into the Deering Gallery flying out the window.
Still, she would do no more shouting or accusing. Gard Sterling always had been as obstinate as they came, and she would bet anything that the harder she pushed, the more stubborn he would become.
“Well,” she said calmly, seating herself with an air of regained self-possession that surprised Gard. “It appears that we’ve reached an impasse,” she said. “How do you propose we deal with that?” She sent him an innocent-eyed glance, and the essence of her expression struck Gard about four inches below his belt buckle. As insulting as Cassandra “Sassy” Whitfield could be, she was as sexy as any woman he’d ever met. A thought wormed its way into his mind and dug in hard and deep, as though entrenching itself permanently. I want her. Dammit, I want her!
Clearing his suddenly clogged throat, Gard approached the sofa and gingerly sat down. There was an ache in his groin that he knew wouldn’t be appeased today, though he vowed to cure that affliction in the very near future. In the meantime, he had to make friends with Cassandra...somehow.
“I’m not sure our situation should be labeled an impasse,” he said cautiously. “But, of course, we do have to find a way around it. As I said the other day, Cassandra, I need a little more time to study the sensibility and financial implications of buying you out.” He’d said no such thing—he’d talked about studying the consequences—but Cass merely nodded her acknowledgment. “Obviously,” Gard continued, “time is more important to you than it is to me. I don’t have anywhere to go and you do. There’s one thing I need to do before reaching a conclusion, and that’s to take an in-depth look at the Whitfield ranch.”
You snake! “Are you saying you’re no longer familiar with this ranch?” Cassandra asked.
“That’s it, exactly. I used to drop in and talk to Ridge once in a while, but I never got beyond the buildings.”
“So what you’d like to do is check the land?” You big phony. Whitfield land is no different than Sterling land, and you know it as well as you know your own name! He was stalling for God knew what reason, but what choice did she have but to play along? If she could get an answer out of him in a week or so, she would do almost anything.
“Do you have any objections to showing me around?” Gard asked casually.
Cass made a small throat-clearing sound. He didn’t need her “showing him around,” the rat. He could get in his pickup or on a horse and see everything there was to see without her company. So...what was in the back of his devious mind? Another kiss? More than kisses?
She would never get over him not remembering that night at the sand dunes, and if he had any foolish ideas about luring her into bed, he was in for a rude awakening. How could she have liked that rough, overbearing kiss he’d given her a few minutes ago? Had she momentarily lost her senses?
Well, it was the last kiss between them, make no mistake, she vowed.
“When would you like to begin your inspection?” she asked in a smooth-as-honey voice.
Gard blinked. “Um...the sooner the better, I suppose. Are you free tomorrow?”
“Free as the breeze. Tomorrow, then? What time?”
“Might as well get an early start. Seven?”
“Make it eight.”
“Fine.” It was obviously time he left, though he would have thoroughly enjoyed spending the rest of the day sitting on Cassandra’s sofa and looking at her in that pretty teal outfit. He got to his feet. “Let’s do it on horseback.”
“Do it?” Cass’s face turned crimson. He hadn’t meant do it, for pity’s sake, he’d meant inspect the ranch!
Gard wanted to laugh so badly, his insides cramped and hurt. He’d “do it” on horseback, or any other place she could name, if “doing it” was what she wanted. It was an exciting goal to contemplate.
“Unless you don’t ride anymore,” he said with a completely straight face.
Was that another innuendo? Cass had to clamp her teeth together to stop herself from shrieking a vile name at him. But then a better idea came to mind and she smiled with all of the femaleness she could muster. “I...ride a lot,” she said in a deliberately husky voice. “I love...riding.”
Gard nearly choked. “Good...that’s good. Uh, I’ll ride over on my horse in the morning.”
“And I’ll have mine saddled and ready to go.” Cass stood up. “I’ll show you out.”
They walked to the front door, which Cass opened. “Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome.” Gard walked out and heard the door close behind him. Dazed, he made his way to his pickup, got in and then sat there. What a woman! One minute she acted as though she’d like to sock him and the next as though she’d like to... Dare he think ride him?
His teeth were gritted together as he drove away. She was still sassy, still unpredictable, and, Lord, was she exciting!
He could hardly wait for tomorrow morning.
* * *
Cass spent the evening on the telephone, talking first to her lawyer at his home in Billings, then to Francis in California. The two conversations were startlingly similar.
“Sterling’s stalling and I don’t know why. Now he wants to inspect the ranch, which is utterly ridiculous,” Cass said.
“Maybe he doesn’t have the money to buy you out and can’t or won’t admit it.”
“That’s not it,” Cass denied. “The Sterlings were always very well-off. No, it’s something else.” With Francis, she went a little further. “He’s an arrogant pain in the neck, Francis, playing some kind of silly game
