“Never mind, Duane.”Freddy gazed after Ry as he walked to the opposite end of the corral and climbed the fence.On the other side stood several of the hands waiting to congratulate him.Covered with dust and looking proud as a peacock, he couldn’t be distinguished from the other cowboys who were shaking his hand and clapping him on the back.
“They say he made the eight seconds,” Duane said.“Curtis had a stopwatch on him.I wonder if he’ll change his mind ‘bout the rodeo now.”
Freddy barely registered the information.She was too busy assimilating her feelings.When she’d seen him lying so still in the middle of the corral, she’d felt as if someone had ripped out her heart.And until the moment he rolled over, she’d sent a stream of prayers heavenward on his behalf.As foreman of the ranch, she had reason to be upset when someone took foolish chances, but she’d been more than upset.She’d been frantic.
“You won’t want to hear this, but I’ve seen a lot of rodeo cowboys,” Duane said.“There’s a rhythm to it you can’t teach.He’s got it.Born with it, probably.”
She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat.“But he’s a commodities trader,” she murmured, resisting with all her might the urge to run across the corral, wrap her arms around him and beg him not to take such reckless chances.
“Not today he wasn’t.Today he was a cowboy who rode a bronc to the buzzer.”
The next morning, the ranch van hauled nine German tourists to the True Love, and that afternoon another twelve arrived.Because German groups had spent time at the ranch before, Freddy had picked up enough of the language to get by.So she was able to interpret the complaint when one of the couples said they’d been expecting to sleep in the John Wayne Room.They’d traveled halfway around the world to sleep there, they insisted.
Freddy stood with them in the large living room and tried to explain that they were lucky to get the honeymoon cottage, which was bigger, had a better view and more privacy.The couple shook their heads and began demanding the room they’d dreamed about “for many months.”
Ry walked in just as Freddy was starting her fourth polite explanation of why the room was unavailable.He paused to listen and finally sauntered over to the group.Then, in perfect German, he offered to exchange sleeping accommodations with the couple.
The woman practically threw herself into Ry’s arms, and the husband beamed and pumped Ry’s hand enthusiastically.They chattered so fast in German that Freddy lost most of the conversation, but she would have had trouble following a conversation in English with Ry standing so close and looking so virile, his thumbs hooked through the loops in his jeans.Washing had shrunk them to a delicious fit that defined his shape beautifully.His boots and hat had seen more wear in a week than most cowboys gave them in a month, giving him a rugged aspect that could only be bought with experience on a cattle ranch.
One look into his laughing eyes as he talked with the Germans and she remembered those eyes darkening with passion, those lips capturing hers, those long tanned fingers caressing her.Yet after that last impassioned kiss, he’d made no move in her direction.Was he clever enough to realize that by backing away, he’d make himself even more appealing?Perhaps.Standing next to him now, she had to exercise self-control to keep from laying her hand on his arm, just to see if he’d react.
Partly to distract herself, she snagged a passing maid and gave the woman instructions to move Mr.McGuinnes’s belongings to the cottage and prepare the John Wayne Room for new guests.By the time she turned back, the couple was gone.
“Where are they?”she asked Ry.
“I suggested they order a cool drink and sit out by the pool while their room is cleaned.Otherwise, I figured they’d monopolize your time until the maid makes the switch, and you look like you have your hands full.”
“Thanks.I do.”With you.“What were they saying?My German’s not that good.”
He laughed.“They said I don’t look like a guest.”
“They’re right.You don’t.And what were they saying about John Wayne?I thought I heard something about a spirit.Don’t tell me they’re into seances, or something.”
“No.They said I could be a reincarnation of John Wayne, I guess because I’m tall and I’m wearing Western clothes.”
“And speaking German.They’ve probably seen dubbed versions of his movies.It must have been a fantasy come true to stand here talking to a real live cowboy who speaks German.”
“You think I’m a real live cowboy?”
She didn’t dare tell him her exact thoughts, that he was the best-looking stud in the valley.“Let’s just say a tourist would think you were.Where did you learn German?”
“I picked up most of it on business trips.”
She was beginning to get a picture of the astounding reach of Ry McGuinnes.“Then I assume you know some other languages?”
“Oui, ma chérie.”His gaze probed hers, seducing her as his mouth curved into a slow, sexy smile.
She was losing her composure fast in the spell cast by those suggestive eyes.There were reasons that she hadn’t thought it wise to become his lover, but she couldn’t think of a single one at the moment.Then she remembered the calendar page he’d apparently destroyed.“Did you rip a page out of my desk calendar the other day?”she asked abruptly.
The sensuality faded from his expression.“Yes, I did.Crumpled it up, too, so I didn’t think you’d want it back.”
“Are you in the habit of doing that with other people’s possessions?”she pressed, relieved to have found something to dispel the passion that had begun to materialize between them.
His expression hardened.“No, I’m not.I still have it.Maybe I can iron it out for you, if it’s so important.Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get down to the corral and lay claim to Red Devil before Leigh changes her mind about letting me ride him.”
“Red Devil?”She was now fully ready to be perverse.“I’d choose a different horse if I were you.He’s thrown two of the hands already.The surgery didn’t calm him down much.”
His eyes narrowed.“Are you worried about the horse or the rider?”
