how much she’d missed hearing that brogue until now. As a junior in college, she’d spent a year abroad in Scotland and loved every minute of it. But she hadn’t met men like Alastair when she was at university.
What the heck was going on with her? Clearly she’d been holed up at Bluewood for too long, not seeing the usual bevy of attractive men she’d gotten used to at her job in Austin. She couldn’t help her primal physical response to him or any man, but clients were out of bounds. She didn’t go there. But if she could, Alastair would be a temptation.
“Getting up early will serve you well. We’ll get to cover more land the sooner we’re on the trail each day. And other than tonight, it’s supposed to stay clear and dry.”
“Rain isn’t an issue for me. I’m from a land of rain.” Alastair’s lilt made her want to sit down and listen to him tell his life story. But this wasn’t a pub in Edinburgh and he wasn’t Robert Burns. He was her client; this trail ride was her job.
Get it together, girl.
“We’ll get going as soon as we have our teatime.” She opened the door to the ranch house and motioned for him to enter, shushing the barking Australian shepherd dogs. “Guests first. Don’t worry about the pups—they think it’s their job to herd ranch guests, but they don’t bite.” He looked a little put off at going in before her, underscoring his so far impeccable manners. He walked across the threshold and she caught a whiff of his soap. The sexy combination of sheets dried in the sun with Buchanan musk had to be some super expensive cologne, because no scent had ever made her skin tingle. She held back a groan as she watched his impeccably shaped ass in his jeans. This was going to be one heck of a ride.
* * *
Alastair shrugged out of his thin over-layer as he followed Halle Ford to her house. He appreciated the brief respite from her penetrating gaze and obvious appraisal of him. Normally he enjoyed the sexual tension of a female’s assessment, but his blood had rushed so quickly to his dick he’d gotten flustered.
He, Alastair, the family rock who kept their business afloat and globe-trotted with the best of them, felt like an adolescent at Eton who’d snuck his first glance at a naked woman.
“Once I have the ranch fully up and operational, we’ll have a full guest building with at least four or six rooms and a total of twelve bunks. For now, the guest room is the house. While you won’t be staying here as we’re heading out today, feel free to leave any luggage or extras you don’t want to bother with on the trail.” She glanced up at him and he was jolted by her no-holds-barred beauty. Unlike the women he was used to in Glasgow and even here since his arrival in Texas, Halle showed no signs of wearing makeup. She didn’t need it, not with that peachy cream skin and blinding smile. Her dimples projected an innocence her body and expression were in direct conflict with. And her lips... Hell.
He fought to keep his erection at bay but it was futile. His body was reacting to something beyond him, something intangible. The Halle effect.
“I didn’t realize your business was new.” He took off his cowboy hat and removed his boots, shadowing her movements as they entered the small house. Three herding dogs swarmed around them and he smiled.
“Sorry about the doggies.” She offered a half grin.
“Are you kidding? I adore dogs.” He crouched down and held his hands out for sniffing. It took a few minutes but eventually all three allowed him to scratch behind their ears.
“They don’t usually warm up this quickly to strangers.” At the hoarseness of her voice, he looked up. Were those tears in her liquid brown eyes?
Halle cleared her throat and motioned for him to stand. “Bathroom’s on the right. I’ll be in the kitchen making tea.”
“Thank you.” Alastair didn’t really need to use the loo, but again found himself needing a bit of a buffer between Halle and himself. Or was it more that he needed space from the sexual awareness arcing between them? As certain as he was that it was mutual, he’d only just met the woman. So why did he feel as though he’d known her his entire life?
* * *
After she had another fortifying cup of coffee and made her Scottish client tea, she gathered what she’d packed last night for the ride and escorted Alastair Buchanan back outside, nearer the stables.
“Let me start over the right way, Mr. Buchanan. Welcome to Bluewood Ranch in Shadow Creek, Texas. We’re an authentic cattle operation with two herds of cattle. A herd of cattle for our ranch is approximately one hundred steer and our product is longhorn steer.” Halle smiled and opened her mouth to continue her usual opening remarks, words she shared with every tourist group she hosted on her ranch. With perfect timing, a bug flew into her mouth. Halle’s throat squeezed into a spasm and she started to cough uncontrollably. She stomped the dirt in front of the broken corral fence and clutched a weathered post for balance as her body rejected the horsefly that had obviously been aiming for her tonsils. Alastair gracefully took her mug out of her hand, allowing her to cough more forcefully.
Her momentary hacking fit wouldn’t have been so bad if she were addressing a group of local elementary school students, or tourists who simply wanted a taste of the Wild West by working a cattle drive. But her audience was none other than a tall, incredibly hot man whose left hand was bare. And he had a delicious Scottish brogue. Halle’s love life had been dry for so long she might have thought any single man looked good, but this Scot in fancy cowboy clothes was looking mighty tasty to her.
Unlike the flavor of Texas dirt the fly put in her mouth.
“Excuse me.” Halle held up her index finger, hoping her mascara wasn’t smudged by her streaming tears.
Alastair didn’t seem to notice that she was choking to death. In fact, the VIP whiskey billionaire for whom Jeremy requested she provide a “special” no-notice tour was decidedly bored.
“You can skip the touristy chitchat, Ms. Ford. Call me Alastair, and save the riding lesson, as well. Once you catch your breath, feel free to give me the basic overview of the land. Keep it simple. I’m not asking for anything more than you usually do.” He flicked his North Sea–blue gaze from her to the countryside, as if measuring her against the rugged backdrop. The outskirts of Austin, Texas—and Shadow Creek in particular—weren’t noted for appearing anything but the wild countryside it was. In his quick glance she felt measured against her native surroundings. His stern stance made her feel as though she hadn’t measured up to whatever his yardstick was. Did he think she was in over her head?
“If you’re sure about ignoring the riding safety review...” She’d had him sign the appropriate paperwork. He couldn’t sue her if he fell off his horse.
“Certain.” His voice was sexy even when he was being a typical successful businessman—emotionally detached and certain his way was the only way. Halle had handled tourists of all ilk on her ranch and it took a lot to rattle her. Alastair Buchanan’s know-it-all air shook her usually relaxed demeanor and it annoyed her. “Can we get moving, Ms. Ford?”
Well, all righty, then. “Sure thing. If you’re Alastair, I’m Halle. You did say you’re an experienced rider and camper, and you’re a party of one, so I’ll forgo the preliminaries. Are you interested in Central Texas history at all?”
The man had offered to pay five times her usual fee for a group of up to twelve people. All she had to do was promise it would be an exclusive, private tour. With the ranch’s accounting books decidedly in the red this past quarter,
