Page 38 of At the Rancher's Pleasure

Brett heard the ding of an email arriving and turned back to his desk, forcing himself to get through the paperwork. Although he employed both a business manager and an accountant, there were decisions only he, as the owner, could make and that meant reviewing these damn figures.

When he was done, he’d track Sarabeth down and see if she wanted to accompany him to the east boundary of the property to check on a sick cow. It was, according to reports, on the mend but Brett wanted to look in on the animal himself, since it was one of his best breeders.

Well, that was the plan, if he could find Sarabeth. She frequently lost track of her phone and could be just about anywhere on his vast property. Brett frowned, trying to pinpoint why he felt uneasy. The feeling had been growing stronger over the past few days, and he couldn’t nail down what had changed and why.

His uneasiness had something to do with Sarabeth, that much he knew for sure. He wanted to say that she was acting differently but couldn’t pinpoint a specific action that justified that conclusion. She was still the happy, nondemanding, easygoing soul he’d come to know but something about her seemed different lately...

Maybe her smile wasn’t as bright, maybe it was the smallest hint of hesitancy he sensed in her every time he initiated lovemaking. But, after ten seconds of kissing her, tasting her mounting, undeniable desire for him, he always tossed that thought away. But soon after they were done, he went back to wondering if she was a little more guarded, a touch more distant.

And if so, why?

Brett heard the rap on his office door and, grateful for the distraction, yelled a “come in.” Seeing Sarabeth, he immediately stood up, pleased that he wouldn’t have to track her down to invite her for a ride. Although, judging by her outfit, a denim jacket worn over a white T-shirt, a black skirt that hit her midcalf and tan sneakers the same color as her bag, she looked like she was planning on heading out.

Damn. He wondered if he could change her mind. A hard ride to the east, a small picnic and after they’d eaten, he’d strip her down and make love to her in the sunlight...

“I don’t want to disturb you but I’m heading into town. Do you need anything?”

Her tone was a fraction too cheerful, just a little too Polly Perfect. Was he reading too much into this? He wasn’t, Brett admitted, a master at interpreting women and there was a good chance that he was reading all her wrong.

Brett sat down on the edge of his desk and folded his arms across his chest. “I’m good. You picked up some things for me yesterday, remember?”

She nodded and he caught the flash of unease in her eyes. He wasn’t overreacting, dammit. Something was definitely worrying her. “What’s going on, Sarabeth?”

Those enormous blue eyes widened, but he didn’t buy her innocent look. “What do you mean?”

“Something is going on with you, you’re—”

“I’m?” Sarabeth prompted.

“—different,” Brett said, crossing his ankles.

She leaned her forearms across the back of his visitor’s chair and fiddled with the funky collection of bracelets on her right wrist. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that my kids want me to stay in Royal permanently.”

He couldn’t argue with the idea—the thought of her returning to LA, or going anywhere else, made him break out in a cold sweat.

Instead of firing questions at her—Sarabeth wouldn’t appreciate an interrogation—he simply raised his eyebrows in a silent gesture for her to continue.

“I honestly don’t know if I want to make Royal my permanent home, but I feel like I’d like to have a base here, something I can lock up and leave when I travel.”

She’d mentioned wanting to travel, to see the world. He didn’t have a problem with her doing that, as long as she returned to Royal on a very regular basis.

“Well, you’ve been all but living with me, but if you want to split hairs, you can lock up the cottage and go,” he quietly told her.

“That’s not a long-term solution.” Sarabeth shook her head. “I think I need to find my own place in Royal. It makes no sense to rent when I have the money to buy.”

His business brain couldn’t argue with that but his body, and possibly his heart, didn’t want her going anywhere. But that wasn’t the deal, Brett reminded himself. This was just supposed to be a fun, temporary fling.

Yet what if he wanted more? What if she wasallhe wanted?

Brett stared down at his riding boots, at the worn cuffs of his jeans. He’d been engaged last month, about to marry someone else. He was insane if he was going to propose permanence after such a short time of being with, and loving, Sarabeth.

But the thought of her leaving, of only seeing her once or twice a week, of not making love with her or waking up beside her, made his throat close and his lungs shrivel.Hell.What had started as a need to have her, to explore her body had morphed into a need to have access to not only her body but to her mind and feelings, thoughts and emotions.

That hadn’t been the goddamn plan.

What the hell was wrong with him? And what did he want? From her? From life in general? Brett had spent the last twenty or so years trying to prove that he was worth something, looking for a place and a community to see him for whom he was now, not the poor, pitiful kid he’d been. He’d built up this ranch, was wealthy beyond his wildest dreams but sometimes he still felt like that eighteen-year-old, lost, alone and adrift, looking for a place to belong.

But since meeting and spending time with Sarabeth, those feelings had, to a large extent, faded. He wasn’t as tightly wound, as stressed, definitely not lonely and a whole lot happier.

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