of her skin, the softness of her sigh as it skittered against the side of his neck. He couldn’t remember a time that any woman had left such an indelible impression on him, and that could only mean trouble. Mercedes was rich, strong and independent—just like the woman who’d married him, then smashed him into useless pieces.
“So you’re home now,” he said. “What do you plan to do with your time?”
She stared into her cup rather than at him. “I—I’m not sure yet. For starters, I’m going to give myself a few days to adjust to civilian life.”
She could afford to do that, Gabe thought. In fact, she could afford to do anything she wanted to do. He couldn’t imagine having that much financial security. Sherleen had been rich, before and after they’d married. Not nearly as rich as Mercedes or her family, but wealthy enough. As her husband, Gabe had never considered his wife’s money as his, too. In fact, he’d never wanted it and had done his best to pay his own way throughout their short years together. A man of any stock didn’t want to be labeled as being kept by his wife. And to Gabe, riches weren’t measured by the balance in a bank account. Unfortunately, his ex-wife had thought differently. Now he found himself attracted to another rich woman. What the hell was the matter with him, anyway? He’d learned the hard way that he and wealthy women didn’t mix.
He said, “I guess that was a stupid question on my part, anyway.”
Her eyes were full of questions as they roamed his face and Gabe realized he needed to be more careful or his personal feelings would show.
“Why do you say that?”
What the hell, he thought. He wasn’t going to tiptoe around this woman as though she were royalty. “Nothing. Just that—well, it’s not like you have to go out and find a job.”
Disgust turned the corners of her lips downward as she rose from her seat to amble around the tiny room. “I can’t read your mind, Gabe. So I don’t have any idea what sort of impressions you have about me. But I can assure you that I don’t plan to sit on my hands.”
“I wouldn’t think so,” he drawled with a bit of sarcasm. “It might flatten them.”
She shot him a droll look and then chuckled. “Smart mouth. I’ll bet as a teenager you gave your mother fits.”
A dark cloud suddenly shadowed his thoughts. Though he reminded himself that this woman was teasing, that she couldn’t know about Jenna Trevino’s death, it still hurt to think of growing up without his mother and the horrible way she’d left this world.
“No. I didn’t give her fits,” he said curtly. “She was in her grave.”
Mercedes couldn’t have felt more awful. She wanted to walk behind the desk and crawl inside the knee hole, but hiding would hardly help her now. “Oh, boy, I messed up there, didn’t I?” she murmured more to herself than to him. Glancing regretfully at the man, she tried again, “Gabe, I—You’re a young man. I just assumed that your mother was still alive. Forgive me.”
She watched him draw in a long breath, then release it, and from the strained expression on his face, she got the notion that he felt more awkward than even she did.
“Forget it, Mercedes. You didn’t know.”
Afraid she’d worsen her foot-in-mouth disease with any sort of reply, she waited for him to say more, anything that would explain how his mother died. But after several more clumsy moments passed in silence, she decided it best to change the subject completely.
Resting a hip on the corner of the desk, she said, “So. What do you use the computer for? Keeping track of sales?”
“Yes. And I also keep a file for every horse on the Sandbur. It’s a big help in keeping track of their breeding, farrier visits, vaccinations, injuries, progress in their training. You get the picture.”
Mercedes was very impressed. Her cousin Cordero was a good horse trainer, but he’d never been that meticulous about keeping data. “You sound like a doctor keeping updates on his patients’ charts.”
“Exactly. I’ll show you.”
Leaving the couch, he walked past her and went to stand behind the desk. Mercedes swiveled around to see him switching on the computer. While the machine whirred to life, she used the time to study him from beneath a pair of lowered lashes.
Apparently he’d not taken the time to shave this morning. A black stubble of beard covered his jaws, upper lip and chin. His hair, what she could see of it beneath the brim of his hat, curled damply against the back of his neck, as though it hadn’t been long since he’d stepped out of the shower. The scent of soap and musk and man all swirled together and drifted across the small space between them.
Stirred in spite of herself, she looked away and made a steeple of her hands. For the past eight years, she’d worked around men on a daily basis. Some of them had been goodlooking, even sexy. A few had become buddies. And one—Well, she’d thought Drew was a very special friend until he’d proved not to be a friend at all. But even before his betrayal, she’d never found his flirtatious smile and rumbling laugh this distracting. He’d never had her thinking of hot nights, sweaty sheets or even a slow, wet kiss the way this man was doing now.
Mercedes believed the sexual side of her had died along with her dreams of finding love. Yet for some reason she couldn’t understand, Gabe Trevino seemed to be shaking her back to life.
“Okay,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. “Here’s a chart on He’s A Peppy Charge. Take a look.”
Attempting to shake away the sensual fog settling over her, Mercedes placed her coffee mug on the desk then walked around to stand next to him. With every ounce of strength in her, she forced herself to focus on the monitor screen rather than him.
“Everything is here,” she observed. “His birthday, family tree, color and markings, vet visits, blood tests.” She scanned the data until she reached Gabe’s personal comments and then she read aloud, “Deceptive charmer. Tries to buck if not completely warmed up. Great speed and athleticism. Needs experienced cowboy on his back.”
A provocative smile curved her lips as she turned her head to look at him. “Does that mean you?”
The moment she saw his eyes narrow, Mercedes knew she’d struck a nerve and nudged him over the invisible line that had been acting as a polite barrier between them.
As he moved closer, she sucked in a bracing breath.
“Just what are you doing here, anyway, Ms. Saddler?”
Gabe had never intended to let this woman provoke him. From the moment he’d spotted her on the fence, he’d planned to appear cool and collected, even if his insides felt like a boiler on the verge of exploding. But now the teasing glint in her sexy blue eyes made him forget all about his earlier determination. Now his focus refused to go beyond the moist pout of her lips, the idea of how she would taste and feel.
“Uh—what do you mean?” she asked hoarsely.
Before Gabe could stop himself, he wrapped his hand around her forearm and tugged her against him. As her breast flattened against his chest, he could feel her heart flutter, and his own begin to pound.
“I mean, here,” he clipped out. “At the horse barn.
