Hartwell shook his head in disgust when he heard the low-slung sports car bottom out in first one, then another of the many potholes pitting the dirt lane leading up to the foreman’s cottage. As he brushed the sorrel gelding he’d tied to the side of the corral, he decided right then and there that whoever was behind the steering wheel of that little red toy couldn’t be from the area. Folks in rural Wyoming had better sense than to drive a vehicle that sat that low on unpaved mountain roads. It was a surefire way to knock a hole in the oil pan or tear up the exhaust system on a car.
“Whoever he is, he’d better be prepared to hitch a ride on the back of an antelope if he breaks down because I’m not driving his fool hide back to town,” Blake muttered as he glanced at the afternoon sun sinking toward the taller peaks to the west.
The car stopped at the side of the foreman’s cottage next to Blake’s truck. When the driver’s door opened, a leggy blonde stepped out, causing his heart to stall and the breath to lodge in his lungs.
Blake clenched the grooming brush he’d been using on Boomer so tightly he wouldn’t have been surprised if he left his fingerprints in the wood. He swallowed hard as he watched her walk toward the corral as fast as her spiked heels would allow on the uneven ground.
Slender and sleek in her formfitting black dress, her delicate body moved much like a jungle panther on the prowl. Blake’s lower body tightened and he wasn’t sure if it was in response to the sight of her now, or the memory of how those long legs felt wrapped around him when they made love.
“Aw, hell,” he cursed under his breath. “What does she want?”
Boomer stamped one of his front hooves, then looked over his shoulder as if to ask if Blake knew her.
Reminding himself to exhale, Blake released the breath he’d been holding and went back to brushing the gelding’s rust-colored hide. He knew her all right. Back in December, he’d met Karly Ewing in Las Vegas. She’d been on vacation from her job—whatever that was—and he’d been in town to compete in the national bull-riding finals. He’d accidently bumped into her in the lobby at Caesar’s Palace and barely managed to catch her before she fell. As a way of apologizing for his carelessness, he’d convinced her to let him buy her a drink. They’d ended up talking for hours and the chemistry between them had been explosive. By the end of the day they’d been lovers. By the end of the week they’d been husband and wife. And one week after that, they’d been filing for a divorce.
When she stopped a few feet from the horse, she looked a little uncertain, as if she wasn’t sure what kind of reception she’d get from him. “H-hello, Blake.”
Her voice flowed over him like a fine piece of silk and reminded him of the way it had sounded when she’d said his name as he pleasured her. Blake gritted his teeth against the heat building in his lower belly and continued to brush Boomer.
He wasn’t about to let her get to him. Not again. It had taken months after that fateful phone call on New Year’s Eve, when she told him she wanted a divorce, for him to get a decent night’s sleep. If possible, he’d just as soon avoid repeating that.
She’d made the choice to end things between them and although he hadn’t agreed with her, he had accepted it. The way he saw it, there wasn’t anything they hadn’t already covered and there was no sense in rehashing it now.
“What brings you to the Wolf Creek Ranch, Karly?” Without waiting for an answer, he added, “Eight months ago you weren’t even willing to come here to see it. In fact, you said you weren’t the least bit interested in learning anything about the backside of no-man’s-land.”
As long as he lived, he would never forget the sting of her rejection, or her scorn for the land he loved. The ranch had been in his family for the past hundred and fifty years and he’d spent the majority of his adult life trying to get it back from his gold-digging stepmother after his father’s death. He’d finally accomplished that goal almost two years ago and once he’d made Karly his wife, he’d been looking forward to showing her the place that he was proud to call home. But she hadn’t cared enough about him or it to even see the place before she refused to live there with him.
Meeting her startled gaze head-on, he did his best to ignore the effect she had on him whenever he looked into her incredible blue eyes. “Why the sudden interest in a place you had no desire to learn anything about?”
Color rose on her cheeks and it seemed as if she might be slightly embarrassed. “I, um, I’m sorry if I left you with the wrong impression, Blake. It’s not that I didn’t think the ranch would be beautiful...”
When her voice trailed off as she looked around, Blake stopped grooming the gelding and rested his forearms on the gentle animal’s broad back to give her an expectant look. “Then what was it?”
As he stared at her, awaiting an answer, a slight breeze fluttered her long, honey-colored hair and reminded him how the silky strands had felt when he’d threaded his fingers through them as he kissed her. His body came to full arousal and he was damn glad the horse stood between them. At least she wouldn’t be able to see the evidence of how he still burned for her.
Turning back to face him, her eyes couldn’t quite meet his. “I’ve always lived in the city and I was...” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What are you doing here, Karly?” Seeing her again was heaven and hell rolled into one neat little bundle, and the sooner she laid her cards on the table and went back to Seattle, the sooner he could get back to the business of trying to forget her.
When she took a deep breath, he did his best to ignore the rise and fall of her perfect breasts. “We need to talk, Blake.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you think we need to discuss now. We pretty much covered everything that needed to be said eight months ago. I wanted you to give us a chance to make our marriage work. You didn’t want that. End of story.”
“Please, Blake.” She took a step back when Boomer blew out a gentle breath through his nose and turned his head to gaze at her. Looking a little apprehensive, she continued. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. Could we please go somewhere we can sit down and talk? I promise I won’t take up too much of your time.”
Blake sighed heavily. It was clear she wasn’t going anywhere until she’d said her piece. And truth to tell, he did need to talk to her. He hadn’t yet received a copy of their divorce papers and he needed them for his records.
“The door’s open,” he finally said, motioning toward the foreman’s cottage. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be in as soon as I put Boomer in his stall for the night.”
She opened her mouth as if she intended to say something more, then with a short nod she turned on her black spiked heels and slowly walked toward the back porch. Watching the gentle sway of her slender hips as she navigated the hard-packed, uneven ground in those ridiculous shoes, Blake shifted his weight from one foot to the other in an effort to relieve the pressure in his now too-tight jeans. He’d spent the past eight months trying to forget how her soft curves had felt beneath his hands and how her kisses were the sweetest this side of heaven. Seeing her here—where he’d wanted her—was bringing back all the memories he thought he’d left behind.
Shaking his head, he untied the gelding’s lead rope from the top fence rail. He had no idea what she thought they needed to discuss, but if it had brought her from Seattle all the way to his remote ranch in Wyoming, it had to be pretty damn important.
Leading
