to an immense black wrought-iron gate. Closed, of course. As she coasted to a stop in front of it, she stared, wondering if its resemblance to a biblical entrance to heaven was intentional.
If so, the irony wasn’t lost on her.
Rolling down her window, she spoke into the call box next to the gate, identifying herself. A moment later, the imposing barricade swung slowly open.
As she proceeded up the drive, she craned her neck, looking for a glimpse of the ranch house. No such luck; the first buildings were barns and sheds. She counted three outdoor riding areas, a large arena and then a huge building that had to be an enclosed arena next to a square place with a large sign that said Ranch Office. On the far side of the parking lot, away from everything else, was a lovely old barn made of stone and wood. Exuding a sense of age and history, it looked as if it had sat on this land long before anything else was built.
There were several horses, wearing light blankets to protect their coats from the sun, grazing in various green pastures. She even saw one fenced-off field full of cattle.
And still no house.
Then, as she drove around the side of the indoor arena, she saw it, slowing her speed to a crawl so she could take it all in.
The red-tiled roof gleamed softly in the afternoon sun, perfectly complementing the creamy stucco walls. Low-slung and elegant, the house blended with the landscape, managing to look as though it had sprung from the earth decades ago. Even though she knew from her research the hacienda was a mere four years old, the structure had a weathered, peaceful look that would have made a lesser woman melt inside.
Parking, she reflected on how lucky it was that she was not that woman.
Killing the engine, Skylar inhaled deeply. She took her time getting out and leashing Talia, mentally rehearsing her cover story for perhaps the tenth time.
Talia happily began investigating a host of interesting smells. Then, raising her head, she looked past Skylar and let out a single woof as a warning.
Registering the sound of footsteps behind her, Skylar took a deep breath. Showtime. Steeling herself, she slowly turned. Despite her hours of preparation, her first glimpse of him brought her a jolt.
As expected, he was tall, dark and boldly’devilishly’handsome. This she already knew from the photos she’d pored over. Muscular, fit and tanned. Check.
But she hadn’t been prepared for the blatant masculinity radiating from every inch of Matt Landeta’s body. Or the restless energy laced with power exuding from him as he strode toward her. The mere fact that he’d shaken her out of her inertia enough to even register such a thing shocked her.
Though she’d sort of decided to go with overawed girlishness, her defenses immediately came up. She straightened her shoulders and became an ice maiden instead.
Talia, however, had no such reservations. She greeted Matt with the same affectionate joy she bestowed on everyone. Plumed tail wagging, her entire body wiggled as he petted her.
“Nice dog. You must be Skylar,” he drawled, straightening and holding out a tanned hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
When Skylar took it, she noted the calluses, so at odds with the elegance of his long fingers. As she met his gaze, she couldn’t help but study him, her law- enforcement-trained eyes missing nothing.
He carried himself with an air of self-confidence. Though he was virile and masculine, genuine pleasure softened his stubborn, arrogant face, as if he were actually glad to see her. Despite the perfection of his granitelike features, there were touches of humor around his eyes, and his generous mouth appeared as though he were always on the verge of smiling.
Interesting. Did he truly enjoy his work so much?
“I hope you don’t mind my bringing her,” she said, really not caring what he thought. “She’s well trained and usually accompanies me on assignments. I promise she won’t be any trouble.”
“I don’t mind.” He glanced around. “I’m sure we’ll all become great friends while you’re here.”
His hair, exactly like the pictures she’d studied, was thick and black, tapering neatly to his collar. The shadow of a beard gave him an even more masculine appearance.
Damn. She shivered.
“Are you all right?” Pausing in the act of scratching behind Talia’s ears, he peered up at her with a concerned expression.
Somehow, she found her voice. “I’m fine.” Attempting a smile, she tried to figure out how in real life a person could look completely different than photographs. Hell, she was a photographer herself and knew there’d be minor incongruities, but this...this was unreal.
Despite his surface air of approachability, Matt Landeta looked tough, lean and sinewy. She could sense the danger lurking right underneath his innocuous appearance, like a wild animal biding time until it struck viciously.
Fitting, considering he was allegedly a criminal.
But worse, at least to her, despite everything she’d made herself into, she somehow found him as sexy as hell. Which felt as if she was committing the worst kind of betrayal. She felt this knowledge like the sharp stab of a knife.
Ruthlessly, she pushed all emotions away. All that was for another place, another time. Not now. She had a job to do. Luckily she’d developed nerves of steel. Keeping her expression friendly, she continued to let her gaze roam over him, exactly as any other red-blooded woman would.
“Wow,” she drawled. “You don’t look like any horse breeder I’ve ever met.”
He grinned back, the beauty in his smile making it difficult for her to keep up the flirtatious act. In fact, the longer she studied him, the more unsettled she became. Rather than making her uncomfortable, this pissed her off. Seriously.
Not good. Not good at all. Her job depended on her getting to know this man, but she couldn’t allow personal feelings to factor in.
“And you don’t look like any journalist I’ve ever met, pretty lady.” Cocking his head, eyes molten, he gazed at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her fake smile froze on her face. Again, she had to suppress a surge of anger, which threw her off her game.
His gaze sharpened at her lack of response and he leaned closer, bringing with him the scent of coffee and the outdoors.
“Who knew Today’s Arabian Horse magazine hired such gorgeous journalists?” Even his voice, deep and as rich as chocolate, stirred unwanted desires inside her, despite the blatant B.S. he was spouting.
Damn. Somehow she managed to smile back, at the same time tugging her hand free. She decided to ignore the fact that he’d held her hand a bit longer than was normal, especially since he was well-known as a player.
She blushed on purpose as his gaze swept over her, growing more confident as she regained her focus. After all, she had years of field experience behind her. She wouldn’t falter just because this one guy had movie-star good looks and sinful bedroom eyes.
She could do this. She would do this. Nothing would destroy her 100 percent success rate. Just like with all the others, she’d get to the truth. Eventually.
