brown eyes.
A broad, furry face stared up at her.
The big brown Lab retriever looked calm and expectant, as if Jilly were an old friend who would know what to do next. And just like that Jilly’s mood brightened.
She loved dogs. Any color, any size, any breed, they made her day.
Her irritation vanished as she sank down on one knee and rubbed the dog’s soft brown fur. “Oh, my. You’re a beauty, aren’t you? Smart, too.” Impulsive as always, Jilly felt no fear. The dog made a rough sound of pleasure as she found the little hollow behind the right ear.
It never failed. What dog didn’t like to be scratched slowly, just along that sensitive little ridge?
“Excuse me, ma’am. My dog isn’t good with strangers. Touching him is a bad idea.”
“He’s your dog? Well, we’re doing just fine here. In fact—” Jilly glanced up, ready to protest, but her breath tangled up in her throat, lost in a husky gasp as she saw the rugged man looming over her.
CHAPTER SIX
HE WAS TALL, AT LEAST six-four. His eyes were an uncommon shade Jilly had never seen before. Not quite navy. Not quite gray, either. No, they were an unusual, restless shade warmer than both.
His skin was tan from long hours outdoors. A cowboy, by the look of him. Long legs. Seriously long legs. Jilly couldn’t help running her eyes up that long, lean length of man with a silent sigh of appreciation.
Okay. This was one ruggedly handsome cowboy.
She coughed and stood up slowly, gathering her wits. The man was almost six inches taller than she was. She wasn’t used to that. She also wasn’t used to the quiet, focused way he was studying her.
No chatter. No cues of any sort. Totally reserved. But he looked as if he liked being in command of things around him.
Her brain began to race. Maybe he was a rancher with a few hundred thousand acres, which he personally supervised by Jeep and horseback. On the other hand he carried himself with an almost tangible sense of command. Slow, simmering charisma of a very alpha type.
An actor?
No, not an actor, Jilly decided. His face was too contained. Actors were always on stage, oozing energy and playing to an audience. This man looked as if he could keep his secrets very well. He would give orders, but he’d do it so smoothly you never knew you were being controlled.
Jilly frowned. Where had all that come from? She didn’t know the slightest thing about the man.
The big dog moved closer, nudging her hand for more petting.
“Okay, honey. You’re a big beauty, aren’t you? Want another long scratch behind the ears?”
The brown tail rocked hard and banged Jilly in the face as she knelt. “You love that, don’t you? Sure you do.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Are you from L.A.?”
“No.”
“Las Vegas?”
“No way.” He thought she was from Vegas? Hello?
“So where?” He slid his hands into his pockets, his eyes slipping to a darker shade of navy.
“I’m from Oregon, as it happens.” Jilly stared back at him. “I’ve been working in Scottsdale for the past few years. That’s in Arizona,” she said, feeling a little snide. “South of here.”
“I know where Scottsdale is.” He made it sound like a bad thing.
That cool, assessing way of his irritated her. “What’s wrong with Scottsdale?”
“Nothing. Not that I know of. Never been there.” He rolled his broad shoulders. “Pretty hot in the summer, I guess.”
“So are New York City and Houston and Washington, D.C. And they’ve also got humidity to crush your soul. Your point is?”
“No need to get riled.”
“Who’s riled?” Jilly glared at him. “I’m just throwing out some data here. You should visit Scottsdale before you pass offhand comments. It’s a great town. They have fabulous spas there.”
He tilted back his cowboy hat. “I’m not too big on spas.”
“Well, then there’s the hiking. You look like the outdoors type.”
“Could be.”
“Amazing resorts and world-class restaurants, too. I could name a dozen at least.”
Irritated, Jilly blew out a huffy breath. Why did this complete stranger make her so defensive and flustered? “And one more thing. You should scratch your dog’s head more often. Do it like this. Don’t you know about this little ridge?”
The maybe-rancher looked bemused. “Don’t think I do.”
“Well you should. It’s a great way to bond with your pet. It calms a dog and gives them sheer joy. Any dog.”
“I’ll remember that, ma’am,” the man said dryly.
Oh, sure he would. And the world was flat.
Jilly reached for her suitcase, glancing outside in search of a taxi.
Suddenly a truck backfired. At a terse command from the owner, the dog sat down and went absolutely still in what was clearly part of a familiar routine. All the playful energy vanished. All the good humor disappeared with that low order.
The dog did not move a single muscle, alert for the next command.
Jilly forgot all about her suitcase and stood up slowly. “Wow. How did you do that?”
“Good dog, good training. He rarely takes to strangers though.” The man frowned at the dog. “Odd. Probably it’s because he’s been cooped up for two flights back-to-back.”
“Ugh.” Jilly ran a hand through her hair. “I know just how he feels. Traveling can be hell.”
“I didn’t think you were a local.”
“Don’t get started on that again.” Jilly waved her hand toward the front of the airport. “I guess I’ll go find the taxis. I’m staying at Lost Creek Resort, wherever that is.”
“Not far. You’re too early for skiing,” the man said slowly. “No real snow will accumulate for a month or so. Not that it’s any of my business.” The man started to reach for his heavy duffel bag, murmuring to his dog as he leaned over. Then he swung around, frowning.
His dog was looking at Jilly with an expression that could only be called wistful.
“Winslow? We need to go.”
Ignoring him, Jilly leaned
