“Aw, hell,” he cursed under his breath. “What does she want?”
Boomer stamped one of his front hooves, then looked over his shoulder as if to ask if Blake knew her.
Reminding himself to exhale, Blake released the breath he’d been holding and went back to brushing the gelding’s rust-colored hide. He knew her all right. Back in December, he’d met Karly Ewing in Las Vegas. She’d been on vacation from her job—whatever that was—and he’d been in town to compete in the national bull-riding finals. He’d accidently bumped into her in the lobby at Caesar’s Palace and barely managed to catch her before she fell. As a way of apologizing for his carelessness, he’d convinced her to let him buy her a drink. They’d ended up talking for hours and the chemistry between them had been explosive. By the end of the day they’d been lovers. By the end of the week they’d been husband and wife. And one week after that, they’d been filing for a divorce.
When she stopped a few feet from the horse, she looked a little uncertain, as if she wasn’t sure what kind of reception she’d get from him. “H-hello, Blake.”
Her voice flowed over him like a fine piece of silk and reminded him of the way it had sounded when she’d said his name as he pleasured her. Blake gritted his teeth against the heat building in his lower belly and continued to brush Boomer.
He wasn’t about to let her get to him. Not again. It had taken months after that fateful phone call on New Year’s Eve, when she told him she wanted a divorce, for him to get a decent night’s sleep. If possible, he’d just as soon avoid repeating that.
She’d made the choice to end things between them and although he hadn’t agreed with her, he had accepted it. The way he saw it, there wasn’t anything they hadn’t already covered and there was no sense in rehashing it now.
“What brings you to the Wolf Creek Ranch, Karly?” Without waiting for an answer, he added, “Eight months ago you weren’t even willing to come here to see it. In fact, you said you weren’t the least bit interested in learning anything about the backside of no-man’s-land.”
As long as he lived, he would never forget the sting of her rejection, or her scorn for the land he loved. The ranch had been in his family for the past hundred and fifty years and he’d spent the majority of his adult life trying to get it back from his gold-digging stepmother after his father’s death. He’d finally accomplished that goal almost two years ago and once he’d made Karly his wife, he’d been looking forward to showing her the place that he was proud to call home. But she hadn’t cared enough about him or it to even see the place before she refused to live there with him.
Meeting her startled gaze head-on, he did his best to ignore the effect she had on him whenever he looked into her incredible blue eyes. “Why the sudden interest in a place you had no desire to learn anything about?”
Color rose on her cheeks and it seemed as if she might be slightly embarrassed. “I, um, I’m sorry if I left you with the wrong impression, Blake. It’s not that I didn’t think the ranch would be beautiful...”
When her voice trailed off as she looked around, Blake stopped grooming the gelding and rested his forearms on the gentle animal’s broad back to give her an expectant look. “Then what was it?”
As he stared at her, awaiting an answer, a slight breeze fluttered her long, honey-colored hair and reminded him how the silky strands had felt when he’d threaded his fingers through them as he kissed her. His body came to full arousal and he was damn glad the horse stood between them. At least she wouldn’t be able to see the evidence of how he still burned for her.
Turning back to face him, her eyes couldn’t quite meet his. “I’ve always lived in the city and I was...” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What are you doing here, Karly?” Seeing her again was heaven and hell rolled into one neat little bundle, and the sooner she laid her cards on the table and went back to Seattle, the sooner he could get back to the business of trying to forget her.
When she took a deep breath, he did his best to ignore the rise and fall of her perfect breasts. “We need to talk, Blake.”