“You know someone here?”
“Maybe.” He followed a gravelly dirt road up a short distance, then down to a weathered barn straight out of a storybook. He stopped next to a shiny, black Suburban parked on worn grass.
“I thought we were going to lunch.” Her full lips pushed up in a pout, but her eyes were all predatory.
They’d had a quick, meaningless something over a year ago. Three times in bed, maybe four. Either way, it didn’t constitute a relationship. Camila had known that was off the table going in. She liked it rough and he’d liked giving it to her. The fire between them had burned fast and furious before going out, though the hand on his thigh said she’d like to strike a new match.
“Make a phone call or something. I’ll just be a minute.” He got out, leaving the car running.
It was eerily quiet; the only sound was the wind with no tall buildings to block it. A chunk of land divided by wooden fences lay to the right of the barn with another larger, open space rolling out behind it. Stephen walked toward the structure, dirt dusting the shine of his black dress shoes. He pulled at his tie and released the top button of his dress shirt.
Three yards short of entering the black opening, a body stepped out of the darkness. A large man about Stephen’s height, filling out a button-down and khakis. His brown eyes studied Stephen like a human lie detector. Not the most welcoming for a children’s riding facility. Of course, this might not be the right place. He held out his hand. “Stephen McKinney.”
Without a word, the man returned his firm grip.
“I’m looking for Hannah Walker.”
Eyes narrowed suspiciously and he dropped his hand. “What about?”
Ahh. So he was in the right place. And he’d bet a cool million the grim-looking man in front of him was another brother. Stephen smiled. “That’s between us.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” The man shifted into a tighter stance.
Stephen tamped down his temper, always at a low boil. It wouldn’t take much. He lived on the edge of wanting to hurt someone. Then he saw her.
“Nick. I can speak for myself.” Hannah came toward him, tightly drawing together the sides of a long-sleeved button-up as she moved, closing herself off. Bit by bit she’d opened up to him over dinner, let her guard down. He hated that she looked braced for another slap.
“Can we talk?”
For a long minute her golden eyes held his, maybe searching for his true intentions. Maybe deciding if she even cared.
She raised her chin a fraction and he caught the challenge in her eyes. “You can talk while I work.”
Okay. Not exactly a conversation, but she’d listen.
She turned on her heel and he followed, eyes on the tan fabric hugging her ass and thighs. Long and lean and sexy as hell in her knee-high riding boots. God, he loved this look on her. A cell phone buzzed and he heard her brother answer with a terse “Walker.” But he wasn’t much interested in what was going on behind him. Not when Hannah was in front.
Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and a light sheen of sweat dampened her hairline. She moved without a word, stopping at a small room off to the left. A brown horse stretched his head over the stall door next to him and Stephen gave him a pat while he waited. Hannah returned, arms full.
“Need some help?”
“No.”
There was an air of confidence about her here he hadn’t seen before, and she seemed to have hardened since the other night, which was good. He’d rather her be hard than hurt.
She stopped beside a beast of a horse and talked softly to him as she untied his rope from an iron hook. She looked so small beside him. He opened his mouth to tell her to be careful.
“Watch yourself,” she said, beating him to it, then wheeled the horse around to face an arch of light at the opposite end of the barn. She led the animal outside to a horse-size shower, and positioned him on the slab of concrete.
Stephen scanned the open fields, the trees beyond. Not really a farm, that he could see. Just a modest barn with a few horses. Without property lines, it was impossible to tell if this place butted up against the piece Dave wanted or if a strip of land lay between.
When she bent to turn on the water, he couldn’t think about anything. He was…entranced. By the pull of soft cotton over her breasts, the way they swayed every time she moved. He pictured those breasts in his hands, imagined holding her tight ass and running his palms up her back and around to cup her, tug at her nipples. Shit. Her brothers were right to try to protect her from him.
She picked up a back hoof and cradled it between her thighs while she used a small metal tool to scrape out clumps of mud and grass. Competent and skilled, but he didn’t like her so close to something that could hurt her. “Can’t your brothers do that?”