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  “Erin, there is nothing casual about my request.”

  To his surprise, she laughed. “Get serious! Loving women is all casual to you and a game. C’mon. I’ll show you around your new acquisition. You’re lord of the manor now.”

  She sashayed past him quickly, and he stared after her in consternation. He hurried to catch up. “Dammit, Erin, I’m serious. It—”

  “Don’t even try to deny what I said,” she warned him. “If you must have an answer right now, the answer is—”

  He put his fingers on her lips. “Don’t say no. I can wait,” he said with a sigh. “Show me around.”

  He saw the twinkle in her eyes and wanted to gnash his teeth or grab her and kiss her, except he knew that would not help his cause.

  He didn’t think she took him seriously one iota and he was not accustomed to such a reaction from any woman, much less one he had just made love to the night before. A virgin. She had been passionate beyond his wildest dreams. Why wasn’t she all starry-eyed today?

  He laughed silently at himself. You pompous jackass, he thought, yet he couldn’t keep from being disgruntled, off balance, and piqued by her reactions. And attracted more than ever. She turned and headed toward her house, and he watched the sexy sway of her hips. Taking a deep breath, he hurried to catch up with her.

  He reached around her to unlatch and swing open a white wooden gate. The yard was beautifully landscaped and he was certain watered by a sprinkler system. Beds of trimmed flowers bloomed profusely. He looked at red and pink roses, brilliant fuchsia and purple crepe myrtle. Pots of red hibiscus decorated the wraparound porch that held white wicker furniture, hanging pots of green ivy and ferns. She went up the steps and unlocked the front door and he followed her inside.

  The house looked like her. The wide hallway was cozy, appealing, surprising with an eclectic collection of art that ranged from a Klee contemporary to a Gilbert Stuart oil to Remington bronzes, with some unknown artists included.

  He paused in front of the Stuart oil, staring at it.

  “It’s an original,” she said from behind him as she set her purse on a credenza. “Art is my weakness. I fly to London once a year for an art auction. My grandfather got me started—he collected, and I’ve added to it.”

  Setting down her bags, Boone stared at her and realized he had been a million miles off in the image he had conjured up of the manager of the horse ranch. An annual trek to a London art auction? He was all the more intrigued with her, this dazzling woman who made his pulse pound.

  “Are you going to give me a tour?” he asked.

  “Of my house? That can come later. I just stopped off here to put my things down. Let’s go and take the grand tour of your new house.”

  He wanted to drop his flight bag and take her into his arms, but he suspected she would nix that action, so he merely walked to the door with her. He held it open and stepped out onto the porch behind her, hearing the lock click when he closed the door.

  They crossed the wide driveway and went through a black wrought-iron gate and up a walk to a house with six huge Ionic columns across the front and a ten-foot, hand-carved double front door with a high fan transom above it.

  She unlocked the door, stepped inside and turned off the alarm. He followed her inside, looking from the marble floor in the hallway to a dazzling chandelier that hung from the eighteen-foot ceiling. The elegant decor of original oils, statues, exotic plants and carved mahogany furniture was breathtaking. Boone couldn’t imagine being owner until he stepped into a spacious family room that was so warm and welcoming he instantly took a liking to the house.

  “This is great,” he said, relieved to see comfortable brown leather furniture, a polished plank floor with oriental area rugs, a big-screen television, more mahogany furniture and shelves filled with books.

  “I thought you’d like it,” she answered, standing at the floor-to-ceiling glass doors that opened onto a patio and a sparkling sixty-foot, blue-tiled pool flanked on one side by masses of blooming rose of Sharon bushes.

  Boone stepped up behind her, running his hands over her shoulders and turning her to face him.

  “What I like is you,” he said quietly. “At least let’s have dinner together. There has to be something in this palace that I can throw together.”

  “You’ll have maid service. You won’t have to throw anything together,” she said. “The staff isn’t here this morning because I didn’t know when you would get in. I’ll contact them, and you can meet them this afternoon,” she said, pulling out her cell phone and punching numbers. He listened to her give orders efficiently as he roamed around the room and wandered outside by the enormous pool that had a fountain in the center and a waterfall at one end. He turned to watch Erin step outside and approach him.

  “We’re eating here alone tonight?”

  Smiling, she nodded. “That’s what you said you wanted.”

  He rested his hands on her shoulders and combed his fingers in her hair.

  He wanted to lean down and kiss her, but as he looked intently at her, she wriggled away and was gone.

  “Let’s go look upstairs and you can select your bedroom,” she said, slanting him a sultry look over her shoulder that had him tied in knots. He was hot and bothered and wanting her to a degree that surprised him. There was always a pretty woman. Why get tied in knots over this one?

  Trailing after her, he caught up as she crossed the family room and went down the hall to a sweeping staircase. “There is an elevator in the back part of the house if you ever get tired of the stairs, but I’d doubt if you will want to use it.”

  “No, I won’t,” he replied.

  She showed him two enormous bedrooms before stepping into one that filled an upper floor of the south side of one wing of the house. Along with a balcony, the room held a magnificent, carved bed that looked like something out of another century. The massive stone fireplace added to the feeling of antiquity. A carved mahogany desk stood near one wall. He looked at the enormous television screen, shelves of books, a sitting area with a sofa and chairs and tables.

  “The view here is the best in the house,” she said, standing beside the floor-to-ceiling glass that made up one wall of the bedroom. Beyond her, Boone could see rolling, tree-covered acres of green ranch land.

  Boone crossed the room to her and picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

  “Let’s just sit on the edge of the bed and try out the mattress. Before you start protesting, I’m only holding you.”

  She regarded him with the same disinterested look as if she were humoring a willful child.

  “So what do you think?” she asked cheerfully.

  “I think I want to kiss you,” he said, holding her close in his arms.

  “No. What do you think about the mattress?” she asked while he nuzzled her neck.

  “I think it’s grand. Soft, warm, intoxicating…”

  She laughed and slipped off his lap. “All right. I’ll show you another bedroom.”

  “Which bedroom in this castle do you like the best?” he asked, standing and moving close to her again.

  She looked around. “This one because it has the best view, lots of books, the fireplace, the beautiful landscape, the desk that is one of my favorite pieces in the house.”

  “This is my bedroom then.”

  “Fine. Come on, and we’ll finish the tour.”

  As he walked out of the bedroom beside her, he said, “I’m astounded by the grandeur of this house. I’ve seen Mike’s house and Jonah’s. They inherited big, fine homes, but neither one of them are like the one I got.”

  “No. This one is about five years newer than either one of their houses and Great-Grandfather Frates poured the money into this one. It was the showplace of the Frates fortune. The horses were the love of Great-Grandfather Eben Frates, a love not shared by his son or grandson. He wanted this to be a showplace for people who came to buy the horses, and there have been some famous people here. It wasn�
�t quarter horses back then, that specialty developed much later. It was just fine horses.”

  “Why wasn’t it quarter horses?” Boone asked.

  “Quarter horses are purely American and registration and all that began at a later time. There were thoroughbred horses here and fine breeding stock. He wanted this to be on par with castles of European royalty.”

  “European royalty came here to buy horses?”

  “A few. You’ll see the pictures of famous customers in the library and the office.”

  When they stepped into the library that was filled with shelves of books on two walls, Erin led Boone to a wall filled with pictures.

  “These people bought horses here?” he said, looking at a picture he recognized of a man who had been president of the United States when Boone was a child. Boone spotted half a dozen movie actors and listened as Erin pointed out royalty and other celebrities.

  “This is why Great-Grandfather Eben Frates, the original Frates, wanted a fancy, impressive house on this ranch. When you’re more familiar with the ranch, you’ll recognize the background of a lot of these pictures.”

  He caressed her nape. “It’s impressive, and I guess you have some of the finest horses in the world, but it’s difficult to get my attention on anything except the ranch manager.”

  “You’ll manage,” she answered briskly as if she was oblivious to his light caresses. “There are more pictures in the office. It’s right down the hall.”

  He draped his arm across her shoulders and pulled her close beside him and wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to look at the house, but he suspected if he didn’t pay attention to her guided tour, she would go home and leave him on his own.

  He entered another large, rustic room that had two bearskins mounted on the walls, one behind an imposing, carved mahogany desk. Pictures of more celebrities and pictures of horses covered two walls.

  It took over an hour to tour the house, to look at the formal dining room and living areas, including an exercise room, an indoor pool, a billiard room, a ten-seat home theater.

  It was almost eleven when they left to tour the ranch.

  As soon as they stepped into the stables, he paused and placed his hands on his hips as he took a long look around at the aging structure and the empty stalls.

  “The stalls open into a large run so the horses can come and go, and we turn them out to pasture most of the time in good weather.”

  “You said John Frates wasn’t here often. Now I believe it. Not that you aren’t doing a great job, but these stables are old.”

  “That’s their charm. They’re the original stables,” she said proudly. “These are over one hundred and thirty years old—one hundred and thirty-nine, to be exact—and built by both a Frates and a Frye as well as others who helped. Our foreman is my uncle, Perry Frye. The Fryes are linked to this ranch from the beginning.”

  Nodding, he followed her through the cool, dark stable and he could tell that she loved the building and was proud of it, but he thought it was an antiquated firetrap and something that needed to be replaced. He made a mental note to check into it.

  As he looked at a well-stocked tack room, he knew he could get a marvelous price for the ranch. He gazed at Erin speculatively, wondering whether he could get her back into his bed or not. Wondering if he sold the ranch if he’d ever coax her into bed again.

  The dawning realization that he could not entice her to stay with him still surprised him. To have a woman turn a cool shoulder to him the day after a night of passion was as difficult to accept as his continuing consuming desire for her. Past women would excite him for a night or two, but rarely longer.

  “Are your eyes beginning to glaze over?” she asked, amused. “You don’t have to involve yourself with all the details of horse breeding, training and marketing.”

  “I lived on a farm until I was twelve,” Boone told her. “And I’ve ridden in rodeos in college in saddle bronc events. That’s the extent of my experience with horses.” If he sold the ranch, he wouldn’t have to deal with the horses.

  “As I told you, you don’t have to involve yourself at all. John and his family came here to relax and ride and enjoy the peace and quiet. You can leave the horses up to the ranch experts.”

  “Let me show you the horses,” she said, and they left the stable to get into a black pickup. In a short time she stopped by a fenced pasture and he got out with her to climb onto the fence and look at the horses that ambled over, their satiny coats shiny in the bright sunlight. She had tidbits for them and showed him her horse, Mercury.

  “About three mornings a week I ride at dawn. Want to join me some morning?” she asked.

  “If we can get up together,” he replied, arching his eyebrows and holding his breath for her answer.

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “That’s not part of the bargain,” she said, her full lips curving in a smile and her dimple showing. “If you don’t ride with me, you’ll wish you had. It’s beautiful and quiet and just marvelous.”

  “I want to. I just want to get up together to go for the ride.”

  “Well, you’ll have to wait on that one,” she said blithely, and hopped down off the fence. “C’mon. I’ll show you some of our prize studs.”

  For another hour they looked at horses and then Erin drove to the highway and stopped at a small grocery store to purchase items for a picnic lunch. They climbed back into her pickup and drove to the ranch, where she left the ranch road, bouncing over open fields until they stopped beneath the shade of a spreading live oak.

  She opened a blanket and in minutes they were seated in the shade eating sandwiches of cold cuts and drinking chilled bottles of pop. While she talked about growing up on the ranch and gave him more history of the place, dappled sunlight shone between leaves and caught golden highlights in her thick, red hair. She was warm and had unbuttoned her shirt and his eyes kept straying to the open vee of her green shirt.

  He finally tangled his fingers in her hair and then in minutes was stroking her nape. As his fingers moved lightly over her smooth skin, his imagination ran wild and he remembered the night before. He was aroused, aching and wanting her badly.

  To his consternation, she suddenly stood up, brushed herself off and gathered up their things. “Let’s finish our tour,” she said.

  He stood to pick up the blanket and the rest of their things and turned to watch her walk to the pickup. She could put him off now, but she wasn’t going to tonight. Not like this. He watched the slight sway of her hips, mentally stripping away her snug jeans.

  “Damnation,” he said under his breath, striding after her. He shouldn’t be so tied in knots after a night of intense satisfaction, but he was.

  Next, they drove across the ranch to a pasture where men were working on a stock tank. One separated from the others and approached them and she introduced Boone to her uncle, Perry Frye, the ranch foreman.

  “Howdy. Is it Colonel Devlin or Mr. Devlin?” The short, sandy-haired older cowboy gave Boone a solid handshake.

  “It’s Boone. This is an impressive operation. More so than I imagined.”

  “Yes, sir. It’s a fine ranch,” Perry said. As they talked, Erin left them, moving away to talk to a group of men who were setting up a new stock tank.

  “You plan to move to the ranch?” Perry asked, his blue eyes studying Boone intently.

  “I’m thinking about it. I have an air charter business that I plan to continue, but I’m interested in finding out more about the ranch.”

  “Know much about quarter horses?”

  “Next to nothing,” Boone admitted, and Perry nodded. “I hope to learn,” Boone said.

  Perry spread his feet apart and folded his hands across his middle. “Erin was her daddy’s darlin’, and my niece is a special woman. He wouldn’t have wanted to see her hurt.”

  Boone realized the drift of the conversation and that he was being quietly warned to avoid hurting Erin. He looked the older man in the eye. “She’s alread
y demonstrated a high degree of ability to take care of herself, and I have no intention of hurting her.”

  “Didn’t think you would. Just remarking on it. She can take care of herself in some ways. Glad to have you here, Mr. Devlin.”

  “Call me Boone,” he repeated.

  “Anything I can do for you, let me know.”

  “I guess you can teach me about quarter horses.”

  Perry raked his fingers through his thick hair and jammed his hat back on his head. “If you want to go to work with me tomorrow, you’ll learn a little about these horses. Meet me at the big kitchen at five tomorrow morning.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll do that,” Boone answered, wanting to groan. He didn’t want to meet Perry Frye at five in the morning and he didn’t want to start learning about quarter horses before the sun came up on his second day on the ranch, but he also wanted to impress Erin and he suspected he had to earn the foreman’s respect. He shook hands and turned to get Erin.

  He met other cowboys who worked on the ranch and tried to memorize their names, knowing he would see them again in less than twenty-four hours. Back in the pickup with Erin, he told her about his 5:00 a.m. appointment and got a burst of laughter.

  “You don’t have to go work with Uncle Perry at five in the morning! He’s just trying to scare you away probably.”

  “Why would he want to scare me away?” Boone asked, but knew the reason was sitting beside him.

  “He’s protective of me. He’s like a second father. He probably sees you as a threat to my well-being.”

  “Well, damnation, why? You won’t give me the time of day!”

  She laughed. “I’ve given you a lot more than the ‘time of day’!”

  “It’s becoming a long-ago memory.”

  “I told you that you’d forget all about me.”

  “You’re taunting me, darlin’,” he said in a low voice. “I haven’t forgotten one tiny thing about last night. I remember how your lips feel when I kiss you,” he said in a husky tone. “I remember how you moved your hips when—”