Never in her life would she have imagined that denim and plaid could be a sexy combination, and make her consider wanting to climb the man in question like he was a tree. But when it came to the cowboy, considering the way the jeans fit his powerful thighs, it did.
Unable to do anything but stare at him, she had surveyed his rough-hewn features, and his impossibly wide shoulders encased in the plaid blue shirt that strained over firm muscles. The cuffs had been rolled up near his elbows, displaying powerfully muscled forearms and a set of big, strong hands that made her wonder how they would feel on her skin.
But it had been his face, shadowed by the black Stetson atop his head, that had garnered the bulk of her attention. He had a strong, angular jaw, and pronounced cheekbones that added to his rough stance. His face was harsh and distinctly male, with its blunt angles. His nose was slightly crooked, like it had been broken a time or two. His eyes were pools of liquid gold amber, framed by thick, dark brows. The dark umber five o’clock shadow shrouded a kissable set of lips. And those lips had been curled at the ends in a lopsided grin as he approached her.
That potent, engaging grin made whatever brain cells she’d had left after her long day of traveling implode as her body heated from the inside out. Her attraction to the stranger had both stirred her up and made her livid. She hadn’t flown halfway around the globe to avoid marrying one man, just to hop into bed with another. Nor had she missed the way his eyes came to a shuddering halt at her chest. Yes, she had great boobs. But there seemed to be this assumption by men that because she was blessed in that area, she was automatically willing to join them in bed, as if her sizable rack made her an easy tumble.
After that, there had been no stopping the words that came flying out of her mouth.
Bollocks!
Nothing like letting it all go to pot with an employee of the ranch. It put a cherry on top of a crappy week. The next time she ran into him, she would apologize for her behavior. Considering she had booked the cabin for five weeks, she would rather stop a war before it started.
Bianca knew the kerfuffle with the cowboy had been her fault, just like the sad state of the rest of her life.
Her mobile chose that moment to ring, with her mum’s name flashing on the screen. See, barely twenty-four hours of respite before the woman started hounding me. Bianca declined the call, letting the sodding thing go to voicemail like the other four times.
The nicest part about hiding out in a cabin five thousand miles from home was that she could ignore her mum’s summons. She wouldn’t have to worry about her stopping by to check up on her, when Bianca preferred to stay in. Here in the breathtaking Rockies, far removed from everyone and everything she knew, Bianca could just be herself for a change, and perhaps even remember who she wanted to be. Do the things that she wanted, and not what she must do in order to uphold the family name. On the ranch, and in the nearby town of Winter Park, no one cared about her exalted lineage—she was a descendant of the Plantagenets—or whether she was making the right match, or whether she had perpetrated a faux pas that would follow her family name for generations.
When a banner popped up on her phone announcing a new voicemail, she rolled her eyes. She needed wine, some food, and to go horizontal for twelve hours.
And then she would see. For once in her life, she wasn’t making any plans.
She surveyed the cabin itself and took a walk through it to get a feel for the place she would be calling home for the next few weeks. The lodge was charming with its golden honey-toned wood walls and vaulted ceiling. She picked the larger of the two bedrooms and rolled her numerous suitcases into the room, stowing them against a wall until tomorrow. There was a generous king mattress that looked like a lovely cloud of relaxation, piled with pillows and with a Western patterned beige and blue quilt spread over the top. The room also had a full dresser, and there was an attached bath. The bathroom was a thing of beauty, in tones of deep blue and gold. There was a tiled shower stall, and a deep-seated dark blue tub with jacuzzi jets.
On her next foray into town, she would have to pick up supplies for a bubble bath.
The second bedroom was a mite smaller, but it had its own bath as well, though the room she had chosen was more impressive.
Glad she had made that decision, Bianca plodded back down the hall. The main area of the cabin was an open floor plan without any walls between the living, dining area, and kitchen. Going into the kitchen, she stored the groceries she had picked up in town before she reached the ranch.
On autopilot, she made a light dinner that consisted of a slice of the crusty French bread, some cheese slices, and she also cut up an apple, and added a few slices of the prosciutto and some baby carrots. The bottle of pinot grigio wasn’t chilled, but after the day she’d had and the incessant buzzing on her phone from her mother’s multitude of calls, Bianca poured a glass of wine into one of the glass tumblers supplied in the cabin.
She ate her dinner standing at the kitchen counter. It was freeing not to have to answer to a soul for a change.
She figured her mother would fume for the first two weeks she was absent. Her father would follow along with whatever her mum dictated, since she ruled the roost with an iron fist. And Peter would simply assume Bianca had taken off on a holiday to a spa somewhere like in the Swiss Alps to refresh herself.
Now that she was here and felt like she could take a deep breath for the first time in forever, she didn’t know if she could go back. Which was rubbish. Of course she would return to London at the end of her stay… wouldn’t she?
By the time her belly was satiated, the long hours of travel had her body drooping. Rinsing the empty plate and glass in the sink, she figured she would wash them in the morning. Fighting back a yawn, she trudged back down the hall, shutting off lights as she went.
In the bedroom, she didn’t even bother to locate her pajamas. No one was going to see her or care if she slept with no clothes on. She brushed her teeth with the toothbrush and paste stored in the travel kit she pulled from her handbag, then stripped down to her panties, tossing her clothing on top of her suitcases, and crawled beneath the covers.
Bianca didn’t even set the alarm. She cuddled under the warm blankets, and closed her eyes. She was out in under five minutes.
3
Monday morning dawned early after his day off. Up before the sun crested the craggy outline of the mountains, Maverick Greyson had work coming out his ears. As the Head Wrangler for Silver Springs Ranch, it was his job to stay on top of all the animals on the ranch and manage the wranglers’ work schedules. They had both year-round full-time workers and seasonal wranglers in their crew. The seasonal bunch were typically college kids home for the summer, looking to make some extra cash. The ranch could certainly use the help, as busy as they tended to get in the summer. But all year long, Mav’s job kept him engaged from sun up to sundown.
In addition to the cattle drives they hosted for guests to get a taste of what it was like being a cowboy on the range, they also hosted trail rides, overnight camping excursions, overnight cattle drives, and offered survivalist training with Duncan.
They also had cookouts and barbecues, campfire nights, and square dances in the ballroom of the hotel.
There was rarely a dull moment in ranch life, especially given that this was a tourist destination as well as a working dude ranch. They had to mind the visitors and, at times, protect the animals from them.