Page 7 of Stud Ranch

She felt her teeth clamp on her bottom lip, trapping her sigh in. He reached into a small wine cooler and withdrew a bottle. Holding it up, he studied the label.

When his gaze shifted to her—and he caught her looking—he flashed that stunning grin. Just like it had back at the dock, it stole her breath.

“It’s a good one.”

“You know champagne?”

With the bottle in one hand, he approached her nice and slow. Her insides clutched. What was he about to do? Would he touch her face again? Try to kiss her?

Stopping a few inches from her, he stared down into her eyes. “Ready, beautiful?”

Her happy feelings died out like a snuffed flame. Irritation wove through her at the nickname that everybody called her. Getting attention shouldn’t be a negative to her, but she wanted to be seen as…more.

So much more.

She nodded. “I’m ready.”

If he noticed her sudden change of mood, he didn’t let on. He caught her by the hand and led her out of the bungalow.

She threw a look back at the closed doors. “We don’t have to lock up?”

His deep chuckle sent another prickle of awareness through Sloane. “Not around here. This is the safest place you’ll probably ever visit.” He tipped his head up to the sky. “See that? The clouds blew away with that storm. You can see the mountaintop.”

When she turned her attention to the sight, a gasp escaped her lips. “It’s beautiful. It makes me wish I was an artist and I could paint it.”

“Lots of things I wish I could do.”

“Tell me some of them.” Anything to shift the focus off herself. Her nerves weren’t ready for explaining her reason for being here.

“Well, I grew up in a ranchin’ family in the lower forty-eight. As a kid, I had dreams of being a vet. But my grades didn’t make the cut. After that, I did some odd jobs. Apprenticed with a plumber for a while before I realized I didn’t want to fix toilets for a living.”

She smiled.

“Then I came to Alaska and wished I could find a way to describe the beauty. Maybe become one of those wildlife writers for magazines. But the wind blew me in other directions.”

“I see.”

He didn’t say more, and she didn’t ask.

They set off walking, her hand firmly enveloped in his warm clasp and the bottle of champagne in his other. He slanted a look at her. Those brown eyes glimmered with interest that made her nerves jump again. Now she was rethinking her desire for someone to know her and not only her body.

“What do you do for a living?” His question threw her.

She fell silent for a few steps.

“You don’t have to tell me. What happens on the ranch stays on the ranch.”

The statement brought a laugh to her lips. When she surrendered to it, Dylan’s stare zeroed in on her with more intensity.

“I’m glad to hear it, since I don’t want anyone in my personal life to know where I am. What if I don’t tell you what I do for a living? Instead, you have to guess.”

A playful smirk brought out a dimple in his cheek—totally unexpected on the rugged composition of his features.

“I love games.”

She dipped her head at the innuendo in his voice and words. Her nipples hardened, and it wasn’t from the cool mountain air.

“I’m going to guess you do something in an office. Accounting.”

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