see me in it. And I love getting a good tan.”
Apparently, she hadn’t thought he’d counted.
Because he saw her wearing it, and the image wasn’t one he’d likely forget.
She looked rested, which was the plan, and she had stayed out of his hair, just as she’d promised. Trouble was, Carter had seen glimpses of her quiet pool time for three days straight and had wanted to join her.
She came from a different world, he told himself. And he’d already been burned.
Good sense had him turning away from the kitchen sliding glass door, But her inquisitive voice carried to his ears. “Is that you, Carter?”
“Uh-huh. It’s me. But don’t let me disturb you.”
“I can use some disturbing.” Her voice held a gentle ring of frustration. She closed the book and turned her pretty violet eyes on him.
He strolled outside and sat down in a wrought-iron chair in the shade three feet away from her.
“Chicken,” she said with laughter in her voice.
He unfastened the top two buttons on his shirt. “Must be ninety degrees out here. I do enough baking out on the range.”
She tilted her head to the side and then shot a glance over the deep blue waters of his massive pool and the beautiful garden surrounding it. “You could actually use your own pool, you know.”
“And ruin my cowboy image?”
A bubble of laughter escaped her throat. He laughed, too, but his focus drifted from her pretty face to honeyed California skin bathed in sunlight. Her legs were long and sleek and perfectly shaped. Her stomach flat and her breasts…Carter lifted his gaze to meet her eyes.
She flushed pink. Damn, did she expect him not to notice her killer body? His voice grew husky. “Just what kind of disturbing did you want me to do?”
“I, uh…” She gazed past the pool area and garden to the vast open spaces beyond. “I’m bored. I know it’s not your problem, and I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but besides Henry and Mara and you, I’ve had no human contact for three full days. Well, there was the shopping trip to town, but that was a quick outing and I didn’t exactly make any friends along the way, with my disguise and all. Speaking of that, I don’t think anyone around here would know me—”
“Do you know how to ride?”
Her brows gathered together. “Horses?”
He nodded slowly.
“Of course. I practically grew up riding. My father did a motion picture in Spain and we stayed at this magnificent hacienda. I was six then and I’ve been riding ever since.”
“We’ll go after dinner. At sunset.”
“Really?”
Carter scratched his head. He hadn’t been a good host. The hope in Macy’s voice was proof positive. “Just be sure to wear those cowboy duds you bought. And a hat.”
“It’ll be dark. I don’t think I’ll need a disguise.”
“It’s not for purposes of disguise.” His gaze flashed over her body in an unconcealed sweep that brought his message home.
She blinked and whispered, “Oh?”
She had to know how tempting she looked to him right now. If she hadn’t caught him watching her at the door, he would’ve marched back into his office and tried to forget the sexual awareness that had been niggling at him all week. He was still shell-shocked from Jocelyn’s deception. And Macy was a distraction to his bruised ego, but lusting after her wasn’t in the cards.
But neither of them needed any complications in their lives right now.
“Excuse me, Carter, Miss Tarlington.” Mara stood at the back doorway.
Carter was grateful for the interruption. Things were getting a little hot out here. “Hey, Mara. What can I do for you?”
“Henry’s finished with his interview. He’s impressed and would like you to meet with Mr. Fargo, if you’ve got the time today.”
“Sure, have Henry bring him into the office.”
“I plan to go home with Henry afterward, if that’s all right. Supper’s ready and keeping warm.”
“That’s fine. Thanks, Mara.”
“Okay then. I’ll be saying goodbye to both of you.”
Macy sat farther up in her chair, poking her head around him. “Bye, Mara, and remember to call me Macy.”
Mara nodded and then was gone.
Carter rose from the patio chair and glanced at Macy tying up the straps of her bathing suit top. As she tightened the drawstring, her breasts pushed together. He drew a breath quietly and excused himself.
“See you at supper, Carter,” she said.
“Right,” he muttered. He wasn’t sure which was worse, inviting Macy Tarlington to Wild River Ranch or enjoying her being here even more.
Carter sat behind his large walnut desk in an office situated on the opposite end of the living area of the house. As often as he could, he conducted business from here, rather than driving into Dallas, where he held six thousand square feet of office space for McCay’s Cattle Company. His work included more than cattle buying and selling lately. He’d diversified and had his hands in other ventures as well, but his bread and butter would always be ranching. It was his first love.
Carter met his prospective employee with a cordial smile. He believed that nothing told more about a man than the sincerity in his eyes. “I see from your résumé, Mr. Fargo, you’ve got an extensive amount of experience.”
“I’ve been around the block a few times,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
Carter nodded, continuing to sift through his papers. “You’ve done construction, government work and teaching, among other things. What did you teach?”
Bill Fargo leaned over and looked at his paperwork upside down on Carter’s desk. He pointed to the middle of a page. “Says right on there, American history. I coached football for a few years, too.”
Carter leaned back in his seat, perusing the gray-haired man. He was well-groomed, nice looking and in his sixties. Carter liked his confidence. “I played in high school. Running back.”
Bill Fargo gave him a quick once-over. “You hold some long-term records.”
“I do.” Texas and football was like chips and dip. One’s just not good without the other. “It was a while back.”
“Nineteen hundred yards in a single season. You ran for thirteen touchdowns.”
Carter chuckled. “You did your homework.”
“I
