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The lilt in her voice made him pause on the last step. Was she teasing him? Challenging him? Being sarcastic? Even as he tried to determine her mood—and wonder why he cared—his mind wandered to her abbreviated tour yesterday.
    His brain started to rattle in protest to his thoughts. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do—
    “Then I suppose you have time to tour the barns, huh?” he asked as he descended the steps.
    Shit. Then he pulled himself together. After the way he’d acted when they met, he owed her a little hospitality to smooth things over. That’s all.
    The sound of a mug being set on the wooden steps broke the small silence. “I shouldn’t.” Her voice was soft, as if she was trying to talk herself out of it.
    Disappointment flittered through him. He gave a curt nod, cursed himself for offering in the first place, and started to walk away when the sound of her scrambling off the steps and hurrying down the gravel made the back of his neck tingle. Then she was next to him, close enough that he could touch her if he wanted to but far enough away to give them a buffer.
    Their footfalls found an immediate rhythm. She put her hands in her back pockets, her eyes wide and eager as she took in her surroundings. Cole slowed his pace, though this was really the last thing he had time to be doing. Little flickers crossed her face as she looked around, but she didn’t speak. Most women talked his damn ear off, and as much as that drove him nuts, he liked the sound of Rylan’s voice and wished she’d say something to let him hear it.
    “So you ride?” Cole asked as they approached the slight hill that led to the barns. She glanced at him and nodded. Damn. Thwarted. “Western saddle, I hope?”
    Her head turned his way again, but her eyes didn’t meet his for nearly long enough. The quick flash of silver in her gaze left him longing for more. Rylan rotated her shoulders just a bit, her breasts pushing against her shirt. He recalled the slope and rise of the curves she had under that boxy sweater. The heat in his groin remembered too.
    “Yeah, but truthfully, I prefer bareback.”
    The sudden image he had of Rylan riding bareback didn’t have a thing to do with a horse. Cole adjusted his hat to give his hands something to do and picked up his pace. This simple, early-morning walk was nice, but considering he was the glue that held a multimillion-dollar ranch and tourist operation together, a morning stroll did nothing to erase his to-do list. Besides, the more he ambled, the more his mind took him and his cock places they shouldn’t be going.
    The stable was busy when they entered, ranch hands getting ready for the day. Cole made brief introductions as they walked the rubber-padded aisle between two rows of stalls. The fruity scent of her freshly washed hair mixed in with the smell of hay and leather and horse, and in an enticing way, it fit just right. That eagerness was on her face again, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright with excitement. Most of the horses were out to pasture, but he’d kept in a few, including the new black-and-white stallion he’d bought the previous week.
    Angry banging on the last stall on the left told Cole that Pana Bar Noir still didn’t like his new home very much. Another bang followed by a sharp squeal had Cole taking long strides down the aisle to Pana’s stall. Rylan popped up next to him, a long, appreciative sigh rolling out of her. Pana’s mostly black coat was broken up with curving white patches along his huge hips and under his belly. His right leg was white and so was most of his face, though both eyes were surrounded in black like a mask. It made the stunning, liquid blue of the stallion’s eyes shine.
    “He’s gorgeous!” The words tumbled out fast. Her cheeks blushed darker, as if the admission embarrassed her. Pana shook his head violently, strands of his long black mane coming through the bars on the top half of the stall door. Rylan gripped the bars, her