“He gave up his career for his wife?” Bianca asked, rather amazed that a man would do that sort of thing. In her world, in the future that was planned, Peter would be aghast if she asked him to be the one keeping house and home in line, chairing committees, and charities, while she went and worked in the House of Lords.
“Yeah, isn’t it sweet? Emmett was willing to give up his life here to move to Denver with me. That’s how I knew he was a keeper. Well, that, and the man is stunning naked.” Grace sighed.
“I’ve almost forgotten what a naked man looks like, it’s been so long since I’ve gotten any.” Amber frowned.
“Well, your problem is that you are hung up on one man. If you looked further afield…” Grace drifted off as their meal was delivered.
Once it was just the three of them again, Amber cocked her head. “So, Bianca—”
“Yes?” Anxiety filled her as both women looked expectantly at her.
“Do you have any guys waiting on you back in London?” Amber asked.
“Yes, we want to know what it’s like. I mean, you’ve got all those guys with those gorgeous accents.” Grace sighed.
Amber took a bite of a fry with her head tilted as they waited for Bianca’s reply. There was no way she could answer the question without getting bogged down in details. And to be honest, she didn’t consider herself involved with Peter. It was more that they were fellow hostages attempting to appease their jailors.
So Bianca lied. “No, not at the moment. My life has become something unrecognizable. One I don’t particularly care for, which is why I’m here.”
“Someone told me my wife was here. I didn’t believe them. I thought surely, if my wife was close by, she would have stopped at the stables to see me. Yet, I find her here. I’m wounded,” a deep male voice teased as a rather gorgeous, tall cowboy appeared at Grace’s side, smiling down at her with such devotion in his gaze, Bianca wondered if they should give the couple some privacy.
“Hi honey, I was going to stop by on my way back to the office.” Grace smiled sheepishly up at him, trying not to laugh.
“Uh huh.” He gave her some side eye brimming with carnal heat that had Grace squirming in her seat.
“Emmett, have you met Bianca? She’s staying at the ranch for the next few weeks. She’s visiting us from London.” Grace gestured across the table.
Emmett turned his frosted blue gaze in Bianca’s direction and gave her a lopsided grin. “It’s a pleasure, Bianca. I saw you this morning with Maverick in the paddock. You looked like you belong in that saddle.”
Pleased at the compliment and thinking that Grace was a lucky woman indeed, Bianca explained, “He’s helping me switch saddle styles. I learned to ride on the English saddle, did dressage, jumping, and the like for years. I’m hoping to do some of the longer trail rides and maybe even one of the cattle drives once I’m well versed enough on the Western saddle.”
“That’s why you look like you were bred to it. Welcome—get yourself signed up, and I’ll put you to work rounding up cattle.” He winked. Then he shifted his attention back to Grace, cupped her nape, and kissed her.
Christ! By the time Emmett had finished kissing Grace, the woman was simpering and starry eyed. And Bianca wanted to fan her face at the nuclear level heat pumping off those two.
“See you at home, love.” Emmett flashed a seductive grin, and headed off.
Grace sighed as he walked away. “You could bounce a nickel off it.”
Bianca and Amber turned their heads and watched Grace’s husband retreat. Bianca had to admit, the man did have a great set of buns. “Probably more like a quarter for a back end that fine.”
Amber snorted. “His buns aren’t bad…”
Grace chuckled. “Bianca, I knew I liked you. And Amber, his are only not bad because there’s another guy’s derriere you want to grab.”
“And who is that? Does he work here?” Bianca asked, as she thought of Maverick and the way he wore a pair of jeans. And while Emmett sported a good backside, the sight of Maverick’s tight end and the way his jeans fit him made naughty fantasies of clutching his ass as he drove inside her fill her mind. She shoved those thoughts away, lest she do something moronic, like act on them.
Grace leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “She’s got the hots for Lincoln. Not that I blame her, because the man is sexy as hell.”
More relieved than she cared to admit that it wasn’t Maverick, Bianca lowered her voice and said, “I don’t think I’ve met him yet. What does he look like?”
With a frustrated sigh, Amber said, “He’s Mister Tall, Dark, and Grumpy, like a giant tree I want to climb and do all manner of wicked deeds with.”
Bianca bit her bottom lip, trying to contain her mirth, but after one look at Grace attempting to muffle her laughter, she lost it. They all cackled, sounding like a pack of hyenas, and drew stares from other restaurant patrons.
All in all, it was the most fun Bianca had had at a lunch in years—if not ever. Warmth filled her chest, because for the first time in a long time—since the four semesters she had studied in Italy—she was being accepted not because of her family or her station, but because of who she was, and it was an incredible, addictive sensation.
When she finally exited the restaurant, the idea for her upcoming painting blazed in her soul. And with it, there was a spring in her step, and a lightness in her heart.
8
Maverick propped himself back against the wooden fence, his arms crossed in front of his chest, studying the rider atop Sunshine. He couldn’t fault her ability, or how well she had adjusted to riding Western. Bianca and Sunshine had bonded over the past few days. Each morning, Bianca brought Sunshine an apple or carrot, and had earned the mare’s undying adoration in the process.
Regal was the word that came to mind when Bianca rode. She looked like a queen, getting ready to inspect her troops. And Sunshine responded to her rider’s pose, like she knew Bianca was a cut above the rest of them, matching her in grace and form.
As someone who was raised riding horses, had been around them his entire life, Mav rarely stopped to admire the way a person rode. But Bianca was magnificent. She rode as well as he and the rest of the wranglers—possibly even better, given her attention to form. Not that he would ever admit that to her. And he hadn’t been the only one who had noticed—Emmett and Tanner had both made comments.
But he didn’t want to share her. He wasn’t certain where this possessiveness he felt toward her came from, except that it was there.
He didn’t like her.
Yet, she had grown on him, his esteem for her rising day by day with her lessons. And there wasn’t really any reason for them to continue other than it would give him an excuse to watch her.
It meant they were no longer going to be in each other’s hair. Unless he led a trail ride that she signed up for in the next few weeks, they wouldn’t be seeing each other. Granted, he could always lie and have her continue the lessons.
In truth, if he didn’t have a pile of work staring him in the face, he would stay and observe her riding. The woman was sexy as hell, even when she glared down her nose at him. It made the sadist in him want to rile her up just to get a reaction. If he didn’t know better, he would say he looked forward to bickering with her each day. And the way her stellar cleavage bounced as horse and rider galloped around the ring sent his thoughts veering into dangerous territory—imagining what her tits would look like above him as she rode him.