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“Where’s the cowboy hat?” I teased. The western look was surprisingly good on him. Not really surprisingly – every look was good on him.

“I’ll wear it later just for you.” He laced his fingers through mine, which was a nice surprise despite the smirk on his face as he took in my tunic zip-front dress. “Wyoming is cold this time of year, Blue Eyes. Your legs are going to freeze.”

“I have leggings in my carry-on. I’ll put them on when we land.” Reluctantly, I let go of his hand to buckle in.

“Good.” He palmed my bare thigh, an acceptable substitute for hand-holding. “Though I’m glad right now that you aren’t wearing them. Let’s hope I have an opportunity to take advantage of that.”

I might have purred. “What’s wrong with now?”

“Now, we have things to discuss.” He left his hand where it was, but his tone said that we weren’t playing anymore. This was business.

Instantly, I tensed. “Like?”

“Expectations. I thought it might be a good idea to discuss them before we have any other misunderstandings.”

“Great idea.” I had to stop assuming every serious conversation we were going to have would be a bad one. Anxiety was a natural side effect of lying, understandably. But I didn’t have to be so paranoid. “Shoot. I’m ready.”

“Kaya is not a resort like the other Sallis properties. It’s a —”

“Kaya?” I interrupted, ignoring the irritated glare he shot me. That was supposedly the maiden name of his mother, the name that Joe hadn’t been able to verify. “What’s Kaya?”

“That’s the name of the ranch. We breed and run cattle, but we do have twenty cabins that we rent along the western borders where the river runs. Mostly people interested in fly-fishing but other tourists too.”

“Okay.” I wanted to ask how a working ranch had become part of the Sallis portfolio, but he’d moved on before I had a chance.

“We’ll be staying in the main house. Guests are not permitted there. The central office is by the front gates and is where all interactions with them take place. Even without the guests, though, the house sees lots of traffic. The key staff members come up for meals and various activities. Brent, the ranch manager, lives above the office but sometimes he stays at the house. Usually when he’s drunk. He’ll be on the plane today.”

“Got it.” These weren’t exactly the kinds of expectations I thought we were going over, but they were helpful nonetheless. “In other words, I shouldn’t walk around naked.”

“No, you definitely shouldn’t walk around naked. Under any circumstances.” His tone was clipped and resolute. Annoyed, even, that I’d brought it up.

“You didn’t need to snap. I was only joking.”

“Well, I’m not.” He glanced at me, then rubbed two fingers up the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry to snap. Many of the men employed at the ranch are temporary or seasonal. I don’t know most of them. I don’t trust them. I can’t be sure that they would respect you and that’s not acceptable to me.”

I took in his profile as I absorbed what he’d said. Around his home, he had me undressed around his staff so often that I’d assumed he enjoyed treating women – treating me – like property. Enjoyed flaunting me like he would a flashy car. And I liked it because, dirty girl that I was, it turned me on to be demeaned and ordered around as though I had no rights.

But sometimes it pinched at my self-confidence. As hot as it was, it would be nice to be wanted so entirely by a man that he didn’t ever want anyone else to have the right to look at me like he got to. Because I was that important to him.

This, from Reeve, was probably the most perfect compromise. He liked to flaunt me. But only when he could protect me.

That was the kind of owned I’d always longed for and didn’t realize it until now.

I wished there was an easy way to tell him exactly how I felt about his position. How much I appreciated it and how it made me feel safe with him. Safe. With a man like Reeve.

But there wasn’t any way to explain something I didn’t understand myself. So I just said, “Thank you.”

“Now if I say that it is okay to be undressed in public, certainly that overrides the previous statement.” He granted me a slight grin.

I returned it. “Certainly.”

“Moving on.” And the serious tone was back. “Breakfast is served every morning at six sharp. If you sleep through it, you’ll need to fend for yourself. Lunch is at noon and dinner at six-thirty.”

“And if I miss those?”

“Don’t.” It was authoritative with no room for argument, like pretty much everything he’d said so far. I liked the rules. The structure was comforting. I imagined there were women who would find that irritating. Amber would have. Had Reeve been different with her? Sometimes men treated us as individuals. Were the rules only for me?

I hoped they were. For her sake, but also for mine.