will.”
The other horses moved off ahead of them in single file and they brought up the rear. Slowly.
“You’re tense.”
“Am I?”
“Yep, and the horse senses it.”
“I don’t know how to not be tense.” She tried to turn in the saddle to face him, felt off balance and swiveled back around, grappling for the knobby thing on the saddle.
He tightened his arms around her and she immediately felt better. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, his scent reminding her of their kiss.
“Talking is a good way to keep the mind occupied, so you don’t overthink things.”
“Okay.”
When she didn’t say anything—because quite frankly she was still thinking about that kiss—Thad said, “Want me to start?”
“Sure.”
“Where you from?”
Before she could answer, he said, “No. Let me guess... Chicago.”
“How’d you know?”
“Well, you’re clearly from the city and you sound like Gloria when you talk.” He flashed a grin. “She’s originally from Chicago, too.”
“And you’re from Louisiana. Am I right?”
“Good ear.”
“What brought you all the way out here?”
He was quiet for a few moments. “Work, mostly. What about you? What brings you to a guest ranch in Montana?”
“Same. Work.” This time when Jolie had the urge to turn her head, she controlled it. “I’m writing an article about the ranch for a magazine.”
“You’re a writer, huh?”
“Yes.” She liked being called a writer.
She leaned back and the horse stopped.
“Miss Jolie,” Thad murmured. “You need to sit up.”
“Sorry.”
“So...” he said. “You’ve never touched a dog, never ridden a horse. Now look at you. This day is full of firsts for you.”
“That’s my goal for this trip. To try new things, every day.”
“It’s a good motto.”
The other horses were getting farther and farther ahead. Jolie didn’t mind. She liked feeling as though it was just her and Thad on this ride, cozied up together, getting to know one another...
Suddenly an unpleasant thought intruded. “I suppose this is nothing new for you.”
“Riding? It’s part of the job description.”
“No. I mean, taking care of the guests.”
His arms stiffened around her. “And when you say ‘taking care of,’ what exactly do you mean?”
“You know...flirting with the guests.”
“Are you asking if I go around kissing guests on a regular basis?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
He transferred the reins to his left hand and gently caressed her thigh with his right. “I do not go around kissing guests. And may I remind you who kissed who first?”
She covered his wandering hand. Not because she wanted him to stop; only because she couldn’t think straight when he was doing that. “I was excited. It was meant to be a little peck.”
“That wasn’t a peck.”
“You’re the one who made it into something more,” she insisted, smiling as she recalled the kiss. Again.
“Is that the story you’re going with?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Jolie marveled at how easy it was to banter with this man. Along with her lack of skills with animals, repartee was another art she had not even come close to perfecting in her twenty-eight years.
“You must be a very good writer, because you’ve got quite an imagination on you.”
She laughed, partly because she was enjoying herself and also because Thad had just voiced her thoughts. She’d never had that happen before.
Feeling good, Jo said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Last night...” She hesitated, but only for a millisecond. “Did you see me...inside the tub?”
He leaned close, his mouth right beside her ear. “You mean did I see you naked?”
“Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
“Well now, a gentleman would lie and say no.” He took a deep breath, like he was inhaling her scent. “The question is—” his breath sifted the hair at the side of her head, making her shiver “—would you like me to be a gentleman...or not?”
One of the highlights of a trip is to experience new customs. Believe it or not, this is possible even in your own country.
Jo Duval
WOULD SHE LIKE HIM to be a gentleman or not? Oh, good Lord. What kind of question was that?
The best kind.
Jolie wriggled in the saddle. For some reason, her movement made Thad grunt and shift in response. She only heard the faint sound because he was still so close, his body fused to her back, his face hovering just above her left shoulder.
She cleared her throat. “I’d like the truth.”
He turned, threading his fingers through hers. Such an intimate gesture.
Leaning down even closer—his lips within touching distance of her ear—he whispered, “I think you know the answer.”
“I do.” She wondered if he heard her, because the words were more air than sound.
“Are you shocked?”
She shook her head.
He let her hand go in order to capture her chin and turn her face so their gazes could meet. His eyes reflected the bright sun, giving his rugged features an almost otherworldly quality. “I apologize for the inappropriateness.”
The
