Page 2 of One Scorching Summer

She clenched her jaw hard and ground out clarification. “I’m Jorja. J-O-R-J-A. Ogden. O-G-D-E-N.”

“Well, hell. You can spell. My niece told me I was meeting with George Oden about something to do with the ranch. Damn, no wonder I couldn’t find you.”

She ignored the scathing sarcasm his words carried. “You looked me up? I was specific. I’m here to discussleasingsurface estates.”

“Leasing … Selling … Whatever you’re fixin' to do, the consequences are roughly the same.” He stated heatedly. “Of course I tried and came up empty. Now I understand why. My niece didn’t catch the details. She can be flakey.” He half shrugged, as if that explained his confusion. Fidgeting with the brim of his ball cap, he groused under his breath. “Ogden … You’re related to Jamison and Wyatt? Silas Ogden?”

“I am. Jamison is my father. Wyatt was my grandfather and Silas, my great-grandfather.”

“No shit. Then you should know the history." His nostrils flared and he practically growled. "Was it Jamison’s idea to send a woman out here to sweeten the bitterness?”

It was mine, you ass.Because she wanted to prove herself to her father. Clive and Walter, other landmen employed by Ogden-Keller Oil, had tried to approach the recalcitrant man and failed, each chased off by a shotgun. Probably the same one perched on this man’s shoulder. She had begged her father for the chance and was counting on leveraging Rake Carpenter’s rumored appreciation of women to move him toward signing a lease as soon as possible.

“No.”She lied, frostily, refusing to comment on the bad blood between the Carpenters and Ogdens, fearing it would escalate an already uncomfortable situation. Despite the inauspicious start, Jorja remained determined and unflinchingly stared upward, wishing she could see his face

“Bullshit.” He took a half step closer and lowered his voice. "You’re a bona fide landman?”

“I am.”

“Mm … So you planned on taking one for Jamison?” He taunted.

What the hell does that mean?“What motivates me is none of your concern.”

“You’re right, nor do I care. There will be no discussion about a lease, but I’m not an all-out prick.” He turned his head to the left and cocked it toward a freshly painted red barn well behind the stone house. “Use the bathroom in there to clean up. You’re bleeding. There’s a first aid kit under the sink.”

“I have one in the truck.”

“Do you have running water and towels in there, too?”

“Of course not.” She snapped, furious about the situation.

He assumed a wide stance and slipped the shotgun from his shoulder, its muzzle pointing toward the ground. “Take care of your injuries. Then get the fuck off my property.” He moved the firearm slightly, adding weight to his last words. “Right quick.”

Fantasizing violence, Jorja stepped around him as best she could in stilettos on uneven ground and gravel, trying like hell to hold onto her composure and ignore the painful opened skin. Texas’ muggy temperature seemed to have jettisoned to miserable, matching her foul temper. Distressed that she was wilting in front of this ass, she impatiently wiped the perspiration from her face, then stopped and faced him.

He had pivoted, too. The cap was off and crushed in his hand, granting her earlier wish. The sun lit him up—thick dark hair and brows, light blue eyes, strong jawline, straight nose, and full lips. About six-foot-four, if she had to guess, maybe taller. It appeared that the humidity had no effect on him. The work boots, jeans, and black vintage ZZ Top tee only enhanced a physique of clearly defined muscle.

Holy hell. She caught most of the gasp before it escaped but was sure he had sensed every snippet of it, and how her face expressed what she felt. Raw, consuming desire. Her limbs turned to rubber, and it was all she could do not to quake in his presence and melt into a puddle. Rake Carpenter was breathtaking. A man who would turn her head again and again. A man who could bring her to her knees, anywhere. Any time.

She fought the heady sensual force, lifted her chin, and stood tall, fixing him with the authoritative stare that worked like a dream on her father and every other man, somehow keeping her voice from wobbling. “Since I’m here, I’d appreciate talking to you. We did have an appointment.”

She saw the glint in his eye and how the corner of his full lips hitched up into a sexy smirk that bordered on wickedness. Alarms went off inside her, but she stood her ground.

“Uh-uh. Not confirmed by me. I believed I was clear.”

“I can come back tomorrow.”

“Don’t conduct business on the weekends. Ever.” His eyes meandered leisurely, insolently, over every inch of her before he continued in a deceptively soft tone. “But, if you decide you want another type of conversation ... We’re in for a hellava heat wave and I’ve got a nice large pool full of cool water. I’d be up for a dip, and more. Appears you might be too.”

Despite her body vibrating from his bold perusal and invitation, she retreated and gritted her teeth. “You. The nerve?—”

“Have a safe trip home, Jorja Ogden.” The smirk vanished into a hard line, then he nodded and sauntered away.

“Jorja!” Nettie squealed, engulfing Jorja in a bear hug and pecking her cheek. “I’m so excited that you’re here.”

“Girl, you saw me a few months ago.” Jorja laughed, squeezing Nettie back, and returned the kiss.

“I know, but you’rehere. I always visit you, or we go to some fun destination.” Nettie moved out of the shared hug and fixed Jorja with an impish smile that carried right into her eyes. “Well,even though it’s work that brought you and not your bestie, Iforgive you. By the way, we do have a destination, a short drive from Ulen. Tomorrow, at Simple Harmony. It’s a wonderful new spa in the adorable little town of Eagle Creek. We should have time afterward to browse the shops. I have a favorite or two that I’m betting you’ll like just as much as me.”

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