“So, lie with a camera. Got it.”
She laughs and heads toward the corral where the crew is setting up lighting equipment. I follow, leaving Belle’s assistant to care for the cameras, while I take in the scene of a gorgeous chestnut mare being led into position, handlers fussing with her mane, a cluster of cowboys gathered near the water station looking like they stepped out of a Western romance novel.
And somewhere among them, probably, is Seth.
Not that I’m looking. Not that I care.
I’m scanning the crowd anyway when I turn and walk straight into something solid.
“Whoa there, careful!” I stumble backward and find myself in front of a wall of muscle carrying a horse saddle in one arm.
“I saw you there,” the wall says, and there’s laughter in his voice.
I look up.
And up.
And—oh.
He’s tall, six-one, six-two, with a broad chest and powerful arms and legs that look like they could run through walls. His dark brown hair sits just above his shoulders, pulled up into a messy knot with loose strands falling around his face. He’s clean-shaven, which makes his features stand out more than I’d expect—thick eyebrows, long lashes, and eyes that are a pale gray.
There are piercings. Multiple in his ears. One through his eyebrow. And when he shifts the saddle to his other arm, I catch a glimpse of his right arm, covered entirely in a full sleeve of tattoos. Bold, tribal patterns, dense and intricate.
He grins down at me, and it’s pure sin.
“Name’s Kai,” he says. “You shooting us today?”
“That’s the plan.” I find my voice somewhere in the vicinity of my dropped jaw. “I’m the assistant, so don’t expect miracles.”
“Miracles aren’t really my thing anyway.” He tilts his head, studying me with open curiosity. “What do they call you, angel?”
“They call me someone who doesn’t fall for cheesy pickup lines.”
His grin widens. “That wasn’t a pickup line but an observation. You’ve got a face like heaven.”
“And that mouth of yours is a straight-up hazard.”
“Guilty.” He shifts the saddle again, biceps flexing in a way that’s absolutely intentional. “But it’s the fun kind of hazard. I promise.”
The breeze shifts, and the world tilts sideways.
His scent smothers me without warning—sea salt, toasted coconut, and underneath, it’s tropical, like fresh, sweet pineapple.
For a moment, I’m not standing in a cold Montana field. I’m floating in warm water, sun on my face, waves lapping gently against my skin. I’m somewhere far away, somewhere beautiful, somewhere I never want to leave?—
My foot catches on a rock.
I pitch forward with a yelp, arms flailing, the ground rushing up to meet my face. This is how I die. Face-first in the dirt in front of a hottie, with horse manure probably inches from my?—
Kai moves.
It happens so fast I barely register it. One second he’s holding the saddle, and the next he’s setting it down in a controlled drop while simultaneously lunging toward me. His hand catches my stomach, the other wrapping around my back, and in one fluid motion, he’s hauling me upright, pivoting to catch his own balance, turning so that somehow, impossibly, I end up pressed against his chest with my face buried just below his collarbone.
I gasp.
Which is a mistake.
Because inhaling means getting a lungful of that scent again, so strong and overwhelming that my entire nervous system glitches out.
