Gage tried not to glance at the bed, to keep the image he’d seen earlier from reappearing in his head. “Walt says Mae is—and I’m quoting—‘a durn good cook.’ ”
Abby laughed. “I’m hungry, so that’s great news.”
Gage clamped down a shot of lust. He was hungry, but at the moment, it wasn’t for food.
He glanced behind Abby toward the door. “Where’s your newfound friend? Last I saw, he was carrying your suitcase, following you around like a puppy.”
Her eyes shot to his. “I thought Kyle was nice.”
“I’m sure he is. Long as he keeps his mind on business, we’ll be fine.”
“Keeps his mind on business? As opposed to what?”
“Your sweet little ass.” The look on her face was priceless. He checked his watch. “It’s almost time for supper. Let’s go for a walk, check out the stock, then go get something to eat.”
Abby said nothing, just flicked him a disapproving glance, and walked past him out the door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ABBY WALKED WITH GAGE AROUND THE COMPOUND. SHE WENT TO get her camera, then paused to snap a photo here and there. There was a pasture next to the corral where a long-eared mule lipped the sparse grass coming up through the sandy soil. Several other mules grazed on a pile of hay near the fence.
“The mules look healthy,” Abby said.
Gage nodded. “You can tell they’re well-cared for. So far, so good.”
There were horses grazing in a field farther away: a paint, a palomino, a sorrel, a couple of bays with shiny red coats and black tails. As they entered the shady barn, the smell of hay and horses drifted in the air. A tall white mare poked her head out of the stall, and a sorrel nickered at their approach.
Pausing in front of the stall, Gage ran a big hand over the mare’s sleek neck. There was a jagged scar on the back of his hand that Abby had noticed before. She wondered how he’d got it.
“I never asked if you could ride,” Gage said.
Abby smiled. “I live in Denver. It’s basically an overgrown cow town. I’m no expert, but I can ride well enough to get where we’re going.”
Gage nodded. “I figured.”
“You did? Why is that?”
“Because you’re the type of person who doesn’t go after something without being prepared.”
“I hope that’s a compliment.”
“From my point of view, it’s essential.”
She took his hand, the scar catching the sunlight. “What happened?”
“Python. They can be vicious.”
“It must have really hurt,” she said, tracing the outline with her finger.
He looked down at the scar and shrugged. “Hazard of the job.”
Abby thought of the scar her grandfather carried on his forearm—from a sword, he had said, then told her the story of a Bedouin chief who was jealous of King and a woman the chief wanted to add to his harem. Finding treasure wasn’t easy, but it certainly wasn’t a dull way to make a living.
They made a pass through the barn, then, satisfied that the animals could make the trip into rough country, headed for the ranch house.
“It’s been hours since we’ve eaten,” Abby said. “You must be hungry.”
Something hot and urgent appeared in Gage’s eyes. “Oh, I’m hungry,” he drawled, and Abby felt a sweep of heat that ignited her whole body.
His expression abruptly altered, and the heat disappeared, but Abby’s insides were still shaking. She had never lusted for a man before, hadn’t understood how fierce a demand it could be.
She took a steadying breath. She was certain Gage wouldn’t act on whatever desire he was feeling. He valued his iron control as much as his reputation. Abby wished she could be as certain about herself.
In the ranch house kitchen, the meal was served family style, the guests all seated at a long wooden table covered with a bright red-checked cloth. Abby took some photos and did a video sweep of the people in the room.
A group of four had rented the larger cabin: mother, father, and two young children. A pair of college girls were staying in cabin 3; a middle-aged couple celebrating their anniversary in cabin 4; and Mateo in cabin 5, the one farthest away, fitting, from what Gage had told her about him.
Mateo Morales was waiting for them in the dining room, an attractive man in his thirties with high cheekbones and smooth dark skin. He had slightly wavy, shoulder-length black hair and a lean build, with sinews that stood out in his arms and neck. He looked tough and capable, as she had expected from Gage’s description.
“Mateo, this is Abigail Holland,” Gage said. “I told you about her when we spoke on the phone.”
“Ms. Holland.” He made a polite nod of his head, his words tinged with a Spanish accent. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“You as well, Mateo.” She smiled. “Please . . . call me Abby.”
Mateo’s return smile held approval. Gage explained that the man was a trusted friend, one who had saved his life on more than one occasion. Abby figured they were fortunate to have him along.
Supper was served: roast beef and gravy, carrots, potatoes, and homemade bread, with apple pie for dessert. Mae, a silver-haired, wide-hipped woman, was indeed a “durn good cook.”
When the meal was over, Mateo quietly set off for his cabin. Gage walked Abby to hers, then stood patiently on the porch as she unlocked her door.
“Want to come in for a nightcap?” she asked. “I brought that bottle of scotch we were drinking.”
Gage’s lips edged into a smile. “Smart girl. I brought one myself, though once we’re in the bush, there’s a strict no-drinking policy.”
“Then I guess we should indulge ourselves while we can.”
The heat was back in his eyes. “One drink,” he said and followed her into the cabin. “More than that could be dangerous.”
As the door closed, she set her camera aside and turned to look at him, realized how close they were standing. With his thick dark brown hair, solid jaw, and piercing blue eyes, dear God, the man was handsome. She flashed back to Gage in her living room, naked to the waist, the muscled shoulders and thick biceps, the ladder of muscle down his flat belly.
She rested her palms on his chest and looked up at him. “Dangerous for me? . . . Or for you?”
Gage’s blue eyes seemed to burn. The hands that locked around her waist felt like bands of steel as he dragged her against him. He was aroused, she realized, the hard heavy length of him pressing against her, the message clear.
He wanted her.
Abby’s mouth went dry while dampness slid into her core. One of Gage’s big hands dug into her hair, holding her in place as he tipped her head back and his mouth crushed down over hers.
Heat and ravenous need, power, and strength combined in a kiss that was more taking than tender. His tongue plunged in as he deepened the kiss, stirring hot licks of desire and making her knees feel weak. It wasn’t what she had expected, and exactly what she wanted.
Rising on her toes, Abby kissed him back with the same lusty need, clinging to his powerful shoulders, her nipples hard as they pressed into his heavily muscled chest. Gage slanted his lips over hers, kissing her one way, then the other, delving deep, making her tremble.