They were both aware that the chemistry between them was as strong as ever and that it wouldn’t take much to send it spiraling out of control. It had almost happened last night in the hot tub and then again this morning when he kissed her.
“Did you get everything ready to start to work?” he asked, sending a wave of goose bumps shimmering over her arms.
She nodded. “And I went ahead and sent the email to my coworker so it’s waiting for her when she arrives at the office Tuesday morning.”
“I’m glad you’ll be here at the mansion.” He brushed her long hair out of the way to nibble kisses down the column of her neck. “I have to start working in the arena with the new stallion and I’d hate for you to spend the day alone over at the foreman’s cottage.”
“I was going to ask you about that,” she said, attempting to get her mind off how good he was making her feel. “Why are the barns and corrals at the foreman’s cottage instead of here at the main ranch house?”
His low chuckle caused her knees to wobble. “Sweetheart, in the warmer months, having the barns and livestock a quarter of a mile away makes entertaining guests out on the patio a lot more pleasant.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought about the dust and the noise the animals make,” she commented.
“Along with Essence of Barnyard floating on the breeze. It doesn’t inspire people to attend a cookout or pool party,” he said, laughing.
Smiling, she nodded. “It makes perfect sense now.” She frowned suddenly and turned in his arms to face him. “But the barn is no more than fifty yards from the cottage and I haven’t noticed a lot of dust or barnyard odors at the foreman’s cottage.”
“When the owner’s family established the Wolf Creek Ranch back in the late 1800s, they made sure to build the barns and outbuildings downwind of the house.” He shrugged. “I think that held true for most ranches back then. They figured out which way the wind usually blows and planned their layout accordingly.”
“So the foreman’s cottage was the original ranch house?” she asked. She hadn’t really thought about it before, but he had mentioned the owner building the mansion after he bought the ranch a couple of years ago.
He nodded. “I think every generation has remodeled and built onto it, but the original homestead is in the foreman’s cottage somewhere.”
“How do you know so much about the ranch?” she asked, puzzled by his knowledge of its history.
He looked a little taken aback by her question. “My family has lived here...as long as the owners have.” Although not overly common anymore, she’d heard that in years past it wasn’t all that unusual for generations of cowboys to work for the same ranch.
“By the way, I don’t recall hearing you mention the name of the man who owns the ranch,” she said, frowning.
She hadn’t much more than gotten the words out than Blake lowered his head and pulled her to him. With his mouth moving so masterfully over hers, it suddenly didn’t matter who owned the ranch. All she cared about was having him continue to hold her to his broad chest, kiss her until she was breathless and so much more.
That thought should have had her pushing away from his secure embrace. Wanting to make love and wanting their marriage to work out were two entirely different things. Or were they?
But when Blake deepened the kiss, Karly abandoned all thought in favor of losing herself in the way he was making her feel. A delicious warmth flowed throughout her body the moment his tongue touched hers and as he explored her with such tender care, her knees failed her completely. He caught her to him and the feel of his rock-hard body sent waves of longing all the way to her core.
Lost in the overwhelming need he was creating, her heart skipped a beat when he brought his hand up along her side to gently cup her breast. The feel of his thumb teasing her through the layers of her T-shirt and bra only intensified her desire, making her restless and impatient to feel his calloused hands touching her bare skin.
When he broke the kiss to nibble his way along her jaw, then down her neck to the hollow below her ear, Karly couldn’t stop herself from vocalizing what she wanted. “Blake, please.”