that time she would rarely let him out of her sight. He fought back a smile at the fond memory.
“Yes, I have a class this morning, but I thought I’d drop by to talk some sense into you,” he heard her say.
He turned around, placed his hands in his pockets. At that moment he couldn’t stop the smile that touched his lips. “Fine. You’ve tried and failed. Goodbye, Bailey.”
He watched her place her hands on her hips and lift her chin. No one had to warn him about Westmoreland stubbornness. Hers could be more lethal than most, but over the past twenty-one years he’d learned to deal with it.
“I think you’re making a mistake. I subscribe to that magazine and I think you’d be surprised,” she was saying. “It’s not just a ‘girly’ magazine. It has a number of good articles for women, including some on health issues. However, once a year they feature a man on the cover. They try to find a man who’s every woman’s fantasy lover.”
A woman’s fantasy lover? Now that was a laugh, Ramsey thought. He was nothing more than a hardworking Colorado sheep rancher and since he’d doubled the size of his herd this past year, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d been intimately involved with a woman. Working sunup to sundown, seven days a week had become a way of life for him.
“It will be my mistake to make, brat. I’ll survive and so will you. Now scat.”
A half-hour later he was alone and standing in his kitchen and clicking off his cell phone after talking to Colin Lawrence, a member of his shearing crew. Because of a snowstorm that had hit the area a few weeks ago, they were already behind in shearing and needed to get that done within the next two weeks in time for lambing to begin. Starting today everything would be moving rather fast to stay on schedule.
Colin had called to say a few of the pregnant ewes had somehow gotten out of the shearing pen and begun to wander. The dogs were having a hard time getting them back in the pen without stressing out the pregnant sheep. The last thing he needed was for any more shearing time to be lost, which meant that he had to get to the shearing plant on the north range as soon as possible.
He headed toward the door when he heard a car pull up outside. He glanced at his watch, agitated. It was about time the cook showed up. The woman was almost an hour late and that was not acceptable. And he intended to let her know about his displeasure.
Chloe brought the car to a stop in front of a huge two-story ranch-style structure and drew in a deep breath. She simply refused to take no for an answer regardless of what Ramsey Westmoreland had told Lucia. His refusal to be the cover story for her magazine was the reason she had ended a much-deserved vacation in the Bahamas to fly directly here. She intended to try to convince the man herself.
As she checked her GPS while traveling farther and farther away from Denver’s city limits and heading into a rural area the locals referred to as Westmoreland Country, she had asked herself why on earth would anyone want to live so far from civilization. That in itself was a mystery to her. She hadn’t passed a single shopping mall along the way.
Looking out the car’s window, she couldn’t get out of her mind the man she had seen that day a couple of weeks ago. That was why she refused to move on and select someone else. The bottom line was that she didn’t want anyone else. Ramsey Westmoreland was not only the man made for the title of Simply Irresistible, but he was simply irresistible.
Once she had turned off the main road, she saw the huge wooden marker that proudly proclaimed The Shady Tree Ranch. Beside it another smaller marker read This is Westmoreland Country. Lucia had said each of the fifteen Westmorelands owned a hundred acres of land where they had established their private residences. The main house sat on three hundred acres.
Once she turned off the main road, there had been several turnoffs, each denoted by smaller brick makers that indicated which Westmoreland the private driveway belonged to. She had traveled past Jason’s Place, Zane’s Hideout, Canyon’s Bluff and Derringer’s Dungeon before finally reaching Ramsey’s Web.
She had done her research and knew everything she needed to know about Ramsey Westmoreland for now. He was thirty-six. A graduate of Tuskegee University’s agricultural economics program, and had been in the sheep ranching business for about five years. Before that he and his cousin Dillon, who was older than Ramsey by only seven months, had run Blue Ridge Land Development, a multimillion-dollar company started by their fathers. Once the company had become successful Ramsey had turned the management of Blue Ridge over to Dillon to become the rancher he’d always wanted to be.
She also knew about the death of his parents and aunt and uncle in a car crash while Ramsey was in his final year of college. For the last fifteen years, Ramsey and Dillon had been responsible for their younger siblings. Dillon had gotten married three months ago, and he and his wife Pamela split their time between Dillon’s home here and Pamela’s home in a small town in Wyoming.
As far as Chloe was concerned, Ramsey Westmoreland was a success story and the type of man that women not only would want to fantasize about, but also one they would want to get to know in the article that would appear in her magazine.
She couldn’t stop the fluttering in her stomach thinking that she was on property he owned and she would be seeing him again. If he had the ability to wreck her senses weeks after first setting eyes on him, she could just imagine what seeing him again would do. But she intended to handle herself as the professional that she was, while at the same time trying to convince him that sheep produced wool that eventually got weaved into articles of clothing—dresses, coats, jackets and such—that were mainly purchased by women.
She took another deep breath and opened the car door and got out at the same time the front door was slung opened and the man who’d tormented her dreams for the past couple of weeks stepped out on the porch with a scowl on his face, and said in a firm voice, “You are late.”
Ramsey tried not to stare at the woman but couldn’t help it. And this was supposed to be his temporary cook? She looked more like a model than a damn cook. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be able to generate plenty of heat in the kitchen or any other room she set foot in.
She was definitely a beauty with dark brown curly hair that flowed to her shoulders, dark brown eyes that looked seductive rather than contrite and a perfectly shaped mouth. And seeing her dressed in a pair of jeans that hugged her hips and pink blouse beneath a black leather jacket, made her look ultra-feminine and made him blatantly aware of his sexuality, while reminding him of just how long it had been since he’d been with a woman.
Ramsey hadn’t expected this gut-stirring lust. He didn’t need the attraction nor did he want it. It would be best for all concerned if she just got back in her car and returned to wherever she’d come from. But that wasn’t possible. He had over twenty men to feed come lunchtime. He had managed to get through breakfast and thank goodness no one had complained. They had understood Nellie’s emergency and had tolerated the slightly burned biscuits, scorched eggs and the overly crisp bacon. He had promised them a better meal for lunch. When they saw this woman they would definitely think she was a delicious treat.
“Excuse me. What did you say?”
He glanced across the yard where she was still standing by her car. Feeling frustrated as hell and fighting for control he walked down the steps, not taking his eyes off her. “I said you are late and your pay will be docked accordingly. The agency said you would be here at eight and it’s now after nine. I have twenty men you’ll need to feed at lunchtime. I hope there won’t be a problem because I have plenty to do this morning and the agency assured me that you knew your way around a kitchen.”
