Ramsey nodded. Durango Westmoreland and McKinnon Quinn were cousins of theirs, Durango by blood and McKinnon by marriage. The two lived in Montana and owned M&D, a very successful horse breeding and training operation. A few years ago they had invited another cousin, Clint Westmoreland, who lived in Texas, to join their million-dollar business. And now they were making the same offer to Zane, Derringer and Jason. The three had traveled to Bozeman and spent three weeks with Durango and McKinnon and their families, learning more about the operation and to determine if it was a business venture they wanted to become a part of. As all three were fine hors.e.m.e.n, Ramsey couldn't imagine their turning down the offer.

"So the three of you are really thinking about doing it?" he asked as he looked over the report. Everything was in order and M&D was doing extremely well; especially after Prince Charming, a horse they had trained for Sheikh Jamal Yasir-another cousin by marriage-had placed in the Kentucky Derby.

"Yes, and we figured since our three properties are adjacent to each other," Jason was saying, "we can share acreage for grazing land and for future expansions. But what we don't want to do is to reduce the land you need for your sheep."

Ramsey nodded, appreciating their concern. Sheep required a lot of land and his siblings and cousins had been very generous in letting him use some of theirs for grazing purposes. At present he was satisfied with the number of sheep he owned, and other than the lambs due to be born at the end of the month, he didn't intend to increase his herd anytime soon.

"With what Dillon and I own together, there will be plenty enough," he said to the three. "And before Bane took off for the Navy he gave Dillon permission for me to use his land if there was a need. A few days ago I received a letter notifying me that the federal government has approved my use of land at Diamond Ridge, so I'll start taking part of the herd there later this year for grazing."

Ramsey glanced back down at the report. "Although I have my hands full here with the sheep, I'll be interested in becoming a silent partner with the M&D Colorado-based operation once it gets started. I think it's time that I consider diversifying. It's not good to have all your eggs in one basket."

"True," Zane nodded, casting his brother a smile. "We would love to have you on board. And speaking of eggs, you kind of got uptight when I invited myself to breakfast."

Ramsey snorted as he leaned back in his chair. "What is it with you and Callum with your crazy games? Chloe is off limits."

Derringer, who was slouched down on the love seat, glanced over at Ramsey and asked in a belligerent tone. "Says who?"

Ramsey frowned. Derringer was younger than him by three years and enjoyed being argumentative. "Says me, Derringer. Evidently you either didn't get it or you didn't understand the message I gave Zane in the kitchen."

"So, you're saying Chloe is more than just your cook?" Jason asked, as if for clarification.

Ramsey hauled in a deep breath, irritated at the thought of having to explain anything to his relatives. But knowing them the way he did, he knew he'd better do so. There was no doubt in his mind that there would be more explaining to do to the others when word got around that these three had walked in on him kissing Chloe. Zane was probably just itching to tell everyone, especially because it had been eons since Ramsey had been involved with a woman.

"Chloe is nothing more than my cook," he said.

Now it was Zane who snorted. "I don't recall you ever kissing Nellie."

Ramsey rolled his eyes. "Nellie is a married woman."

Derringer straightened in his seat and lifted a brow. "Are you saying if she wasn't married you'd be kissing her?"

Before he could respond Zane burst out laughing while slapping his thigh. "d.a.m.n, Ramsey, we didn't know you had it in you. And all this time we figured you were living a dull and s.e.xually inactive life."

Ramsey took a deep, calming breath. His brothers were trying to get a rise out of him and he refused to fall prey to their tactics any more than he had to Callum's earlier. He tossed the doc.u.ment he was holding on his desk. "Let me get something straight. The kiss the three of you walked in on was something that just happened. Chloe is my cook and nothing more. She'll be living here for two weeks until Nellie returns."

He then leaned forward to make sure they heard his next words clearly. "However, since I know how two of the three of you operate, I want to make it clear here and now that she is not not open game. You're all welcome to breakfast, lunch or dinner at any time, as always. But that's all you're welcome to." open game. You're all welcome to breakfast, lunch or dinner at any time, as always. But that's all you're welcome to."

"Um, that sounds kind of territorial, Ram," Zane said, eyeing his brother.

Ramsey shrugged. "Think whatever you like, just make sure you heed my warning."

Later that evening Chloe went into Ramsey's living room and sat on the sofa with a gla.s.s of wine in her hand. She curled her feet beneath her as she took a sip. It felt good to relax after a tiring day.

Although she enjoyed being in the kitchen, spending her time cooking for a group of men was not how she had envisioned her month-long vacation. Especially one that had started off in the Bahamas.

But she would have to admit that just seeing the satisfied grins on Ramsey's men's faces when they had eaten breakfast that morning and lunch at noon had been worth all the time she had spent over a stove.

The men asked her to make more homemade biscuits in the morning, and they liked having a choice of bacon and sausage. She would surprise them tomorrow by going a step further and making omelets.

She had checked with her office in Florida and had spoken briefly to her editor-in-chief. Everything was going fine, which Chloe wasn't surprised about. She had an efficient team who ran things whether she was in the office, and that's the way she wanted it. Her father had told her time and time again that to be successful as CEO of your own company, you needed a good team working for you who could handle just about anything in your absence. She had built Simply Irresistible Simply Irresistible to the magazine it was and was using her time expanding the market area. to the magazine it was and was using her time expanding the market area.

Her thoughts shifted from the magazine to Ramsey and the kiss they had shared earlier that day. It was the kiss that three members of his family had witnessed. She could just imagine how Ramsey felt about it, which was probably the reason he had avoided her most of the day. He hadn't dined with his men at lunch and he hadn't returned to the ranch since she had noticed his leaving early that afternoon.

She couldn't help wondering if the kiss had worked and she was out of his system. She might be out of his, but now he was deeply embedded into hers. Never had she been kissed so thoroughly before. Never had a man explored her mouth the way he had, in such a blatantly carnal way. There had not been anything traditional about his kiss. He had delivered it with an expertise that had left her panting for hours. She had been both affected and infected by his kiss. Even now her lips were still tingling.

She would be the first to admit things were not going as she planned with him. She had been attracted to him from the first, so there was no surprise at that. But what had been a surprise, totally unexpected, was the degree of hot tension that surrounded them whenever they were in the same room. Or her to be thinking about jumping his bones whenever she saw him. In her line of business, she met plenty of good-looking men. But none had ever sparked her interest, or stimulated a deep attraction the way Ramsey had.

How was she supposed to live under his roof, breathe the same air, when s.e.xual thoughts constantly flowed through her mind? And unfortunately that kiss had been the icing on the cake. There was no doubt in her mind that she was now addicted to his taste as well as to his masculine scent.

Chloe's thoughts shifted back to what Ramsey had said about never sharing her with anyone. There had been something about it that had touched her. She drew in a deep breath at the realization that something about Ramsey was getting to her. And she knew at that moment that he was a man in a way that Daren could never be. Ramsey was someone who could and would take care of his own. That was evident by the way he had taken on the responsibility of raising his siblings. Although he could be brusque at times, she believed he didn't have a selfish bone in his body.

And knowing that was what was endearing him to her.

She felt panic in her chest at the thought that anything about Ramsey was endearing to her, but as much as she wanted to deny it she knew it was true. There were so many things about him that reminded him of her father-especially his sense of what was right. She'd seen it in the way he treated his men and his family.

She took another sip of wine. Later she would call Lucia to let her know she'd met Derringer and thought he was definitely a cutie. Although Ramsey had given his brothers and cousin a hard time, she could easily pick up on the love and mutual respect between the four men. And all four were extremely handsome.

But still in her book, Ramsey was her choice. There was something about him that made her heart pound in her chest each and every time she saw him. Maybe the best thing would be to abandon the idea of his posing for the cover of her magazine. She should go ahead and tell him the truth tonight and be packed and ready to leave. But if she did that, it would leave him in a bind. His men were counting on her to provide them with a delicious breakfast in the morning and a tasty meal at lunch. Besides, she was not a quitter, so no matter how tough things got she would not throw in the towel.

She leaned over and placed her gla.s.s of wine on the coffee table when she heard her cell phone go off. She pulled it out of her skirt pocket and smiled when she saw the call was from her father.

"Dad, how are you?"

"I'm doing fine. Just where the heck are you, Chloe Lynn?"

She chuckled. n.o.body but her father called her by her first and middle names. Only after she'd finished college and started her business did she appreciate what an outstanding man and wonderful person her father was. He had entered politics when she had been in her last year of high school and now he was in his third term as Senator and swore it was the last, but she knew better.

He had always encouraged her to do whatever it was in life that she wanted to do and not live under his shadow as the "senator's daughter." She had gone to the college she had wanted to attend and had gotten the degree in just what she'd wanted. The only thing he flexed his muscles about was his belief in helping others during her summers. In the end she'd never regretted doing so.

"I'm in Denver for now."

"And when will you be coming home?"

She raised a brow. Home for her had always been Tampa, but for her father since becoming Senator Jamison Burton, he'd stayed in D.C. most of the time. "Not sure when I'll be back in Tampa. Why? What's going on?"

He paused and then said, "I intend to ask Stephanie to marry me tonight, and was hoping you would be here in case she said yes, so we can all celebrate."

Chloe's smile widened. Her father had been dating Circuit Court of Appeals judge Stephanie Wilc.o.x. A fifty-something divorced mother of a son and a daughter in their twenties, her father and Stephanie had been dating for a few years and Chloe had wondered when he would consider asking the woman to share his life.

"That's wonderful, Dad. Congratulations. I'm sorry I won't be there to celebrate, but please make sure you let Stephanie know how happy I am for both of you."

Ten minutes later she was still smiling when she slipped her phone back into her skirt pocket. Finally, her father was about to commit his life to something other than politics and she was happy about it. He had remained a widower and she had often wondered why, when he would be such a good catch for someone. But she'd heard over the years from both sets of grandparents how much he'd loved her mother and he hadn't wanted to give his heart to another woman. It had taken Stephanie three years, but she had done what some would have thought as impossible.

"After all the work that went into feeding my men breakfast and lunch you have a reason to smile?"

Startled, Chloe inclined her head to glance across the room. She hadn't heard the door open and now Ramsey was standing in the doorway and looking at her.

Refusing to be rattled, she reached for her gla.s.s of wine and took a sip, not sure how she would answer his question. There was no way she could share her father's good news on the risk that he might ask questions she didn't want to answer. All he would have to do is to go on the Internet and do a search on her father to discover she was his daughter and exactly what she did for a living.

"That's not what the smile is for," she decided to say. "I just received a call from a friend to say he was asking his girl to marry him tonight. And I'm happy for both of them."

She watched as he crossed the room to sit in the chair across from the sofa. She tried not to stare and was surprised he was giving her the time of day when it was obvious he'd been avoiding her earlier, especially after their kiss.

"I guess getting married would make some folks happy," he said.

She took another sip of her wine while holding his gaze, trying not to dwell on just how good he looked while he leaned back in the chair with muscled shoulders, hard jeans-clad thighs and long legs stretched to where his booted feet touched a portion of the coffee table. She wondered if he realized he was still wearing his Stetson. "Um. But I take it that you're not one of them," she replied.

"Nope, I wouldn't be one of them. I intend to be a single man for the rest of my days."

She considered his words. "So, you're one of those men who have a problem with matrimony? Who thinks marriage isn't a big deal?"

He lifted a brow. "And you're one of those women who thinks that it is?"

"I asked you first."

Yes, she had, Ramsey thought. His first inclination was to ignore the question. Move on to something else. And a part of him wondered what the h.e.l.l he was doing here, sitting across from her at all. Especially because he'd taken great pains to make sure their paths didn't cross after his brothers and cousin had left. He hadn't liked the way Zane, Derringer and Jason's thoughts had been going. He would like to think he had put their false a.s.sumptions to rest, but he knew them well enough to know that was too much to hope for.

"Take your time if you need to gather your thoughts," Chloe said.

Ramsey kept his gaze trained on her. Unwavering. He couldn't give her a forced smile even if he'd wanted to because staying single was a serious topic with him. And it wasn't that he had a problem with matrimony per se, after the last fiasco of a wedding, he figured there was not a woman alive who would be able to get him back in a church for the sole purpose of getting hitched. No, he liked his single life just fine. He would think after dealing with the likes of an ex-boyfriend like Daren, so would she.

He continued to look at her, recalled her statement about gathering his thoughts and figured she would get along with his sisters easily because she seemed to have a smart mouth like them. That thought made his gaze shift to her lips.

He then swallowed, wishing he hadn't gone there with her mouth, especially because he knew how it tasted. And then there had been her response to him. He could do bodily harm to his kinfolk for their untimely interruption.

"I don't need to gather my thoughts," he finally said. Otherwise he would be tempted to cross the room and taste her again. "Raphael Westmoreland married enough for all of us."

She lifted a brow. "Raphael Westmoreland?"

"Yes, my great-grandfather. Rather recently we discovered he had a slew of wives. We also discovered he had a twin."

Evidently that sparked her interest, and her movement on the sofa sparked his. She slid closer to the edge and when she leaned forward her blouse gaped open a little, but enough to see some cleavage, as well as the thin pink fabric of her bra. Her skin looked velvety smooth, soft and a beautiful brown. He could imagine removing her bra and then lavishing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with hot kisses, then taking his tongue and- "Well?"

He blinked, reluctantly shifted his gaze from her chest to her eyes. They were bright. Inquiring. Intrigued. Apparently stuff about long-lost relatives interested her like it did the others in his family. Once they had become acquainted with the Atlanta Westmorelands, who were descendants of his great-grandfather's twin brother Reginald, Dillon had been eager to find out all that he could. His search to uncover the truth had led him to his wife Pamela. So in a way something good had come of it.

"Well, what?" he asked, deciding to play along just for the h.e.l.l of it. Irritate her a bit. He liked the way her lips curved in a frown when she was aggravated about something. In addition to that, he liked her s.e.xy pose on the sofa and the eager look on her face to find out more. Now if he could only get her out of wearing those d.a.m.n leggings.

The glare she gave him denoted she was getting impatient, downright annoyed, at the length of time it was taking for him to tell her what she wanted to know. "Tell me some more about your great-grandfather's twin," she said with barely restrained impatience.

He could and would do so if it meant keeping her mind occupied while he continued to check her out. "We discovered over a year ago that our great-grandfather Raphael had a twin by the name of Reginald."

"And none of you had any idea?"

"No. Great-Grampa Raphael led everyone to believe he'd been born the only child. One of the Atlanta Westmorelands' genealogy search provided proof that Raphael and Reginald were twins and that Raphael had been considered the black sheep of the family after running off with a married woman. He finally settled here in Denver five wives later."

Ramsey paused when he felt a rush of sensations hammer his veins when Chloe shifted her body on the sofa once again and his gaze moved to her feet. They were bare and her toes were painted a prissy pink. When had seeing painted toes on a woman become so erotic?

He found it an effort to move his gaze from her feet back to her face, especially when his eyes had to pa.s.s over her chest. Of course it lingered awhile before moving on. When he finally settled on her eyes he saw hers were narrowed. "I'm sure there is more to this story," she said.

He nodded. "Of course and maybe one day I'll tell you the rest."

He had no idea why he'd said that. There wouldn't be a "one day" where they were concerned. Although he had changed his mind about calling the agency for another cook, he needed to keep his guard up around her. Yet here he was, misleading her into thinking he would share anything else about his family with her.

He eased out of his chair, deciding he'd said enough and had stayed in here with her longer than he'd needed to. Definitely longer than he should have. It then occurred to him he was still wearing his hat. d.a.m.n.

He took it off his head thinking the woman had a way of making him not think straight and that wasn't a good thing. "I'm taking a shower and going out to grab something for dinner," he said, and then wondered why on earth was he telling her his plans. His comings and goings were really none of her business.

He moved to leave the room and head upstairs, but her words stopped him. "I prepared dinner for you, Ramsey."

He stopped, turned and looked over at her. She was only getting paid to fix breakfast and lunch because his men usually ate dinner at their own homes with their families. Usually he dined at Penney's Diner a few miles down the road or with one of his family members.

"You didn't have to do that, Chloe."

"I know, but I wanted to because I need to eat, too," she replied, as if that explained things.

"Suit yourself," he said, knowing he sounded totally nonchalant and ungrateful when he was anything but. After spending practically her entire day in the kitchen preparing breakfast and lunch for his men, she had gone out of her way to prepare him dinner when she really didn't have to do it.

He turned in the direction of the kitchen and when he got to the edge of the room, he paused and then turned back around. She was staring into s.p.a.ce as if she was trying to figure out in her own mind what had happened next with Raphael Westmoreland. She had moved from her earlier pose and was now curled up in the corner of his sofa, and every so often after taking a sip of wine her tongue would dart out to lick her top lip as if savoring the taste. Ramsey felt his body tighten with desire as he watched her.

"Chloe?"

She looked over at him and he could tell from her expression she was surprised to see him still standing there. "Yes?"

"Thanks for dinner." He then turned and kept walking toward the kitchen.

Hours later with his jaw clamped together tight, Ramsey walked the floor in his bedroom. This would be another night where he would not be getting any sleep and there was no excuse for it, and he needed his rest. The next two weeks of shearing would be both mind- and body-consuming if today was an example of what was to come.

At least his men had been excited about breakfast and lunch and had kept a steady conversation about both most of the day. Chloe's choice of food was a big hit and at quitting time today the men had been speculating on what they would be getting tomorrow for breakfast. Chloe was a definite a.s.set to his ranch.

Ramsey moved over to the window to look out, not liking what he was thinking. She had done it again, he thought in disgust. The dinner she'd prepared for him had been the best he'd ever eaten, so much in fact that he'd been tempted to lick the plate. He had sat in the kitchen alone, not bothering to eat at the table, but had taken a stool at the breakfast bar instead.

Consuming his meal in silence he had been well aware of the moment she had come into the kitchen to wash out her wine gla.s.s. Mumbling a good-night, she had quickly left to head up the stairs. He had watched her go. Neither of them had mentioned anything about the kiss they'd shared earlier that day, and that was fine with him because his brothers and cousin had said enough. Not surprisingly, word of the kiss had reached Dillon and Callum. At least none of his sisters knew about it. Had they been privy to such information, they would have called by now, or even worse, just showed up to introduce themselves.

Hold up. Time out. He wasn't ready for something like that to happen, especially if his sisters a.s.sumed the wrong thing like Zane, Derringer and Jason had. But knowing Megan, Gemma and Bailey like he did, there was no doubt in his mind that they would have taken things further by trying to intentionally stir interest even if there wasn't any there.

At least he could safely say from his conversation with Chloe earlier that she was not a woman on the run as Callum had speculated. Other than what she'd told him about her ex-boyfriend, he still hadn't gotten her to talk a lot about herself, although she was trying to get all in his business about good old Raphael.

He shook his head. Other than knowing she was a d.a.m.n good cook, she'd had an idiot of an ex-boyfriend, and that she had a friend who was getting married, he didn't know a lot about her. But then maybe the less he knew the better. She was doing a good job at what she had been hired to do.

Although he was losing sleep in the process.

But then, his inability to sleep and walking the floors at night was not her problem. He had to be the one who garnered more control. He had to stop the flow of s.e.xual tension between them. But how? Imagining her with a sack over her head whenever he saw her wouldn't work because he would still be able to see her body. And there was no way he could look at all those curves without a degree of l.u.s.t filling his head.

Sighing deeply, he made his way back to the bed. It was close to one in the morning and if he had to lie in bed, stare at the ceiling and count sheep to get to sleep, then so be it. h.e.l.l, sheep were his life anyway.