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her. ‘Walking? Probably a couple of days, cos there’s no way I’m going to take you. You promised me a weekend.’
    Lauren scowled as he draped the shirt over a chair and sluiced water from the sink over his face and muscular body. She remembered her first sight of him half-naked in Vegas and the mind-blowing sex that followed. She dropped her bag to the floor. Did she really want to leave? Her bag didn’t contain much more than soft silky underwear, a couple of blouses, a Chanel skirt suit and an all-purpose shift dress.
    Grayson turned back to her and she threw him a towel. ‘What do you think I should wear then?’ she asked stiffly.
    His lazy, satisfied grin warned her he’d anticipated her lack of suitable clothing. ‘I have just the thing.’
    Lauren waited suspiciously as he disappeared into the second closet and came out with a skirt and blouse draped over a hanger. Her mouth fell open. The short skirt was denim and had a row of metal buttons up the front. The top was white cotton with a band of embroidery around the wide yoke neck.
    ‘I’m not wearing that! Who do you think I am? Daisy Duke?’
    Grayson winked suggestively. ‘If the bra cup fits . . .’ He continued to look hopeful as he waggled the hanger in front of her. ‘I got you cowboy boots as well.’
    After glaring at his innocent face, Lauren snatched the hanger out of his hand. ‘All right, I’ll play along. I’ll be Western Barbie to your cowboy Ken. Although how this miniscule outfit is supposed to protect me . . .’
    His laughter followed her into the shower. ‘Ken’s got nothing down his pants and you sure as hell know I do.’
    Lauren shouted back over the roar of the shower. ‘And I don’t need silicon implants like Barbie!’
    When she came out of the shower, Grayson had disappeared. Picking up the hanger, she studied the intricate blue embroidery on the blouse. Grayson’s arrogant assumption that she would dress up for him should have worried her more than it did. Smiling, she smoothed the soft cotton. She loved dressing up. It was her passion. Somehow, he’d known she would enjoy it as much as he did and, despite everything, she trusted him.
    She dressed quickly and was unable to resist taking a peek at herself in the mirror. The idea of fulfilling Grayson’s fantasies as he fulfilled hers was arousing. The skirt finished way above her knees and the blouse was so low cut it revealed the tops of her breasts and the long line of her neck. It wasn’t dissimilar to a 1950s cowgirl outfit she already owned. She ran her fingers over her tight nipples and felt sexy and sassy and alive.
    In a moment of daring, she left off her underwear. Maybe he’d choke on his cowboy hat.
    Grayson stood in the kitchen, a mug in his hand. He didn’t say anything about her appearance although he gave her a thorough inspection. The alluring aroma of percolating coffee drifted across to Lauren and she breathed in deeply. Although she preferred tea, the scent of coffee always made her wish she could drink it without ending up with a headache.
    On the stove top a kettle came to the boil with a piercing gusty whistle. Grayson retrieved another cup from the cupboard over his head. ‘There are tea bags and tea leaves in the pantry. Help yourself.’
    Lauren took an English breakfast tea bag and Grayson added boiling water to her cup. They sipped in companionable silence until Lauren became aware of a growing crescendo of noise outside.
    ‘I thought you said we were alone here?’
    Grayson finished up his coffee and gave her a slow smile. ‘You’re never alone on a ranch, Lauren. That caterwauling is because the animals know I’m late feeding them.’ He put down his cup. ‘Are you coming?’
    He led Lauren back through to the mud room where a brand new pair of black and white cowboy boots awaited her. Outside, a slight breeze lifted her hair as she stepped into the gathering gloom. Grayson handed her an empty bucket and headed towards the