She set down the mixing bowl she had been holding and turned to face him, her smile causing a serious hitch in his breathing. “I’m wonderful.” She raised up on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss. “But I’m afraid breakfast is going to be a little late. It seems that someone kept me up last night and I ended up oversleeping this morning.”
“I slept pretty well myself,” he admitted, nodding. After they made love, he’d held her close and enjoyed the first good night’s sleep he’d had in almost two weeks. “In fact, I slept so well, I think we should try the same arrangement tonight.”
He felt a shiver course through her. “Is lovemaking always that amazing?” she asked, melting against him.
His body responded to hers so quickly that it took a moment for him to find his voice. How could he tell her that he’d never experienced anything as exciting or meaningful as what they’d shared together? Or that he had a feeling he never would experience the same with any other woman? It wasn’t something he had allowed himself to think about because he wasn’t sure he was ready for the answers.
“It’s only going to get better, babe,” he answered evasively.
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
Before he could reply, the phone rang. “This early it has to be one of my crazy-ass brothers,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’ll take it in the study.”
As he walked down the hall, Lane decided that he wasn’t all that upset by the interruption. He needed to give some serious thought to why he felt Taylor was the only woman who could excite him in ways he’d never dreamed possible.
“Talk to me, T.J.,” he said, after checking the caller ID.
“You sound like you just drew an inside straight,” T.J. said, laughing. “I guess you got everything settled with your new partner, huh?”
“Not exactly.” Lane hesitated a moment before he admitted, “We’ll be playing a game of poker for control of the ranch in another week or so.”
“Well, something has you in a good mood. You sound like you just got la—” T.J. grew quiet and Lane knew his brother had figured out why he was in such a good mood. “You do know you’re playing with fire, don’t you, bro?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Lane said, irritated by his brother’s perceptiveness. “What did you need?”
“Uh-oh.”
“What?” Lane demanded.
“You’re pissed off. That tells me there’s more going on than just a little friendly fun with your business partner,” T.J. said knowingly. “So when do we get to meet the future Mrs. Donaldson?”
“Shut up and tell me why you called or I’m going to hang up,” Lane snapped. He loved his brother, but he suspected that T.J.’s observations were hitting too close to home.
“All right, all right. Simmer down, Freud. I’ve got a heap of trouble brewing with that woman next door. Her stallion keeps jumping the fence to romance my mares and I need you guys to help me out,” T.J. said, his voice tight with anger.
“How many more of your brood mares has he bred this time?” Lane asked, understanding his brother’s frustration. T.J. raised championship reining horses and having a rogue stallion impregnate his brood stock would cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars and set his breeding program back several years.
“He covered four more of my mares yesterday before I discovered him in the pasture,” T.J. said disgustedly. “That makes ten in the past four months.”
“What can the guys and I do to help?” Lane asked, knowing he and his brothers would all drop whatever they were doing to help out T.J.
Over the past year or so, T.J. had tried talking to the woman about checking and mending her fences more often. When that failed, he had requested that she keep the stud on another part of her ranch. Since that hadn’t netted the desired result, it appeared that he’d come up with another plan.
“I figure with the six of us and my two hired hands, we can get a six-foot-tall woven-wire fence put up between my place and hers by nightfall,” T.J. said determinedly.
“That should take care of your problem,” Lane agreed. “I’ll be there right after breakfast.”
“Thanks, Lane,” T.J. said sincerely. “I owe you one.”
“See you in about two hours,” Lane added, ending the call.
As he walked back into the kitchen, Taylor had just set two plates of eggs Benedict with smoked salmon, hash browns and fresh mixed fruit at their places at the table. “It looks delicious,” he said, holding her chair for her. “I haven’t eaten this well in years.”