He steeled himself against the lure of it. "I'm leaving, Mallory."

"Where will you be today?"

"Over at the Double Crown's training arena."

"I'll make supper," she called.

He had to smile. "You're sure?"

"I want to try one of the recipes Rosita gave me."

"See you later, then."

"Later," she murmured as he opened the door and left. She'd probably go back to sleep until noon. He'd alert the security guards that she was home alone and ask them to be particularly watchful.

Midmorning he realized he'd been wrong about Mallory sleeping until noon when he saw her snazzy car pull up to the gravel area beside one of the corrals. She was dressed in a pair of black slacks, a white cotton blouse and natural leather shoes that tied. When she saw him, she quickly walked toward him. The swing of her hair, the ruffle of her bangs in the breeze and the graceful movement of her body made him take a deep breath.

"Is something wrong?" he asked when she reached the corral.

She smiled at him. "No, I came to work."

His gaze took another sweep of her. "Work?"

"I know I have to get a pair of jeans and some boots, but for now this will have to do. I can't sit in the cabin and do nothing all day, Reed. Isn't there something I can do here? I love horses...."

She might love horses in theory, but working with them was another matter entirely and required know-how. "You'll get dirty," he said succinctly.

"That doesn't matter. I can wash this, and the shoes... Well, they'll just be my work shoes."

To hide another smile, he swiped off his Stetson and ran a hand through his hair. If she wanted work to do, he'd give her work. After today, maybe she'd go up to the house and help Rosita instead of distracting him!

"Follow me," he ordered, setting his hat back on his head.

He led her into one of the barns, aware of her light footsteps behind him. The wranglers were exercising the mares from this barn and it was still, except for the flies and dust motes dancing in the sunlight.

Opening one of the stall doors, he nodded to the hay and the smell emanating from it. "The stalls need to be mucked out. The pitchfork is over there." He pointed to a part.i.tion. "As well as anything else you might need-a shovel or broom. Just push the mess into a pile outside. Any questions?"

The crestfallen look on her face was priceless. She'd probably make up an excuse and find something else to do fairly quickly. Staring at him for a few moments, she didn't look away. Then without a word she went toward the part.i.tion and grabbed the pitchfork. "You can go back to what you were doing," she said. "I'll be fine in here."

He'd give her fifteen minutes tops, then expect to see her headed toward her car.

A half hour later he went to the barn to check on her. Her nose wrinkled as she shoveled hay and horse droppings into a pile on the outside walkway to the barn. She must have found a rubber band somewhere and tied her hair up in a ponytail. She'd also rolled up her blouse sleeves. Smudges of dirt already marred the pristine material. He thought about teasing her, then decided that would be pushing his luck after their go-around yesterday. Still betting she'd leave before lunch, he went back to the corral and the colts, which he understood much better than Mallory.

Time got lost as he eased the young horses into halters, handled them and spoke to them gently. It was the basis of all the training he did. But when Hank, a grizzled old cowhand, called to him to ask him if he was having lunch at the bunkhouse, he remembered Mallory. After returning a colt to the pasture, he saw that her car was still there. Surprised, he went to the barn and found her inside, mucking out yet another stall.

"Lunch break," he announced, admiring her grit in sticking to the job this long.

"I have one more stall to clean out. I think I'll do that, then get lunch back at the cabin. I'll have to get supper started."

"What are we having?" he asked.

She tilted her head and gave him a smug smile. "It's a surprise."

He pretty much knew what was in the freezer. "Mallory, you don't have to go to a lot of trouble. I could just cook steaks on the grill."

"I'm stopping at the big house to talk to Rosita and get what I need. I want to make supper, Reed. You've done so much for me already."

He didn't expect grat.i.tude from her, and he had to admit it wasn't particularly what he wanted, either. "All right, then. I'll see you later." As he turned to leave the barn, she called his name.

When he stopped to face her, she said, "I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to do anything foolish. I didn't even think about Clint Lockhart and Winston. I just wanted to do something useful."

This woman surprised him at every turn, and he wasn't sure he liked the unsettled feeling that it gave him. It was bad enough desire tangled up his thoughts. "Forget about it, Mallory. It's over."

This time when he turned to leave, she didn't stop him. Once outside in the sunshine, he shrugged off the feeling that it wasn't over. Mallory wasn't the pa.s.sive type, and he had a feeling that given a good reason, she'd do the same thing all over again.

It was almost six o'clock when Reed returned to the cabin after going over training schedules with Cruz and Hank for the next month. When his sister Matilda arrived, she could give them a hand, and Cruz could spend more time at his own place. Though Matilda was young, twenty-one, she was almost as good with horses as Reed was, though he'd never admitted that to her. She'd been born a tomboy and insisted that any girl who had five brothers had to be one to survive. The truth was, they were all protective of her and she hated it.

He had to admit he missed her. He missed all of them, in a different way than when he'd gone away to college. Though he'd enjoyed every minute of it, the University of Adelaide had seemed a world away from his home. Now he really was a world away.

He should call and tell his folks about Stephanie before they heard it from mutual friends. And then there was Mallory...

Thoughts of home quickly vanished. The hearty aroma of meat and spices wound around him as he stepped inside the adobe. Even though its thick walls kept it comfortable most of the time, the heat from the oven had infiltrated everywhere and even the ceiling fan wasn't doing much good. Mallory had changed into a tank top and shorts, but her cheeks were flushed and her bangs damp from the time she'd spent in the kitchen. Her hair was still caught up in a ponytail.

"It smells terrific," he said.

"I hope it tastes as good." She sounded worried. But then she went on, "I set the table outside. The oven made it really hot in here."

"Give me ten minutes for a quick shower and I'll be right out."

When he joined her outside, he couldn't believe his eyes, let alone his nose. If the roast beef tasted as good as it looked, he was in for a treat. The broccoli and carrots had been steamed to a perfect color and the bowl of mashed potatoes made his mouth water. "You learned how to do this in one easy lesson?" he asked, amazed.

She winked at him. "I'm a fast learner."

He laughed. "Are you sure Rosita didn't come down here and cook this?" But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew Mallory might take the remark as an insult. "I'm teasing," he added gently.

She gave him an impish smile. "I know you are." Then she held up her right hand. "I swear I did this on my own, and I only called Rosita twice." They both laughed together this time as they sat at the table and started in on their plates. When Reed took the first bite, he noticed Mallory watching him. Swallowing, he remarked, "It's good, Mallory."

"Really?" she asked, looking concerned.

"Really."

Her hazel eyes sparkled with his compliment and he wanted to lean across and kiss her, yet he didn't want to disrupt the welcome camaraderie that had sprung up. Although the s.e.xual tension that had vibrated between them from the moment they'd met hadn't lessened, they ate in an almost companionable silence.

When they'd finished, Mallory stood and picked up both of their plates. "I almost hate to go back inside."

He stood, too, and suddenly had an idea he hoped would please her. "Then let's not go back in."

"I have to do the dishes."

"We'll let them soak in the sink. I want to take you somewhere."

"Where?"

"You'll see," he said mysteriously. "But you might want to grab your bathing suit and if you don't have one, you could try skinny-dipping."

Her eyes widened and she a.s.sured him, "I have one."

Chuckling, he took his plate from her and followed her around the side of the adobe. A few minutes later they were sitting in the truck, b.u.mping over a gravel access road. Soon, even the gravel disappeared and they traveled on the packed earth. Slowing as stands of cedar grew thicker, he finally stopped beside a live oak. "We're here. We don't have to walk far."

He came around to Mallory's side of the truck and opened the door for her. When he offered her his hand, her gaze met his. The electricity between them practically buzzed, but she took his hand and used it for leverage as she stepped down to the ground. They walked side by side through the range gra.s.s until they broke through a line of oaks.

When she stopped, so did he. "How lovely," she murmured as if entering a holy place.

He felt that way about this spot. The descending sun was a fiery red ball reflected in the calm, cool water of the lake where a willow dropped its branches. Tall gra.s.s grew along the north and west borders. Sparkles of sunlight danced to the south and east as the bare earth embraced the water.

"It's spring fed," Reed explained, "so it's cold."

"Right now I could use a little cold," she said with a smile.

He handed her one of the towels he'd brought, laid his on the ground and pulled off his boots and socks. When his hands went to the snap on his jeans, Mallory asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going swimming."

Unfastening his fly, he let his jeans drop to the ground.

Mallory backed up, but her eyes dropped below his waist. He was wearing black briefs, not a bathing suit.

"I didn't bring a suit with me." He shrugged.

She quickly spun around and peered at the lake.

"Mallory." He kept his voice gentle. "You've seen me naked. I've seen you."

"Not when I was fully conscious of what I was doing," she retorted, glancing over her shoulder and keeping her eyes steadily on his.

Instead of being a bond, the night they'd spent together in that motel room was a barricade. "I'm going in," he said gruffly.

Mallory watched as Reed strode into the water and dove under and swam out to the middle. Her hands were trembling and she realized her attachment to this man scared her. All he had to do was smile at her, let alone bare his chest or more, and her insides quivered with a longing she didn't recognize. She'd been brought up to be a proper lady, and she didn't understand what had happened that night in Reno...why simple rebellion had turned into marriage to a man she didn't know.

The temperature hadn't eased much and standing here watching Reed wasn't going to help her cool off. Choosing a compact clump of cedars for a changing screen, she slipped behind them and quickly removed her clothes. The little devil who'd prompted her to sit at Reed's table at the Golden Spur made her wonder, What if he saw you like this, and you were fully conscious?

The excited tingles that danced through her body made her grab her pink bikini bottom and slip it on quickly. When she fastened the top, she suddenly realized that this bathing suit wasn't a whole lot better than being naked around Reed. But it would have to do. Leaving her clothes, she s.n.a.t.c.hed her towel and carried it to the spot where Reed had waded in.

She stepped into the water slowly. It was cold but felt delicious against her hot skin. Gradually she went in farther, then splashed water on her neck and arms. Finally she ducked under the water and swam across the lake. They both swam for a while until Mallory floated into more shallow water and stood, appreciating the beautiful sunset, the orange, purple and pink streaks shooting through what was left of the blue sky. She heard a splash of water and sensed Reed swimming up beside her. When he stood, she could feel the immense masculine power of him, as awe inspiring in some ways as the sunset.

Clasping her shoulder, he nudged her around to face him. His hair was wet and he must have brushed it from his forehead when he came out of the water. Droplets glittered on his shoulders and in his chest hair under the last rays of the sun. "Are you glad you came?" he asked.

She nodded, her voice sticking in her throat. She couldn't take her eyes from his, and caution warned her to move away. But she couldn't. Not when antic.i.p.atory excitement was making her heart race and her breaths shallow.

"I shouldn't have lost my temper with you yesterday," he admitted.

It seemed hard for him to make the apology, and she guessed that it didn't come easy for him.

"Does that happen often?" she teased lightly, so he'd know she'd accepted it.

But he didn't smile. "Only when I care about something a great deal."

The power in his blue gaze seemed to pull her closer, and she recognized it as desire. She felt her body leaning slightly toward his. His hand on her shoulder slipped to the small of her back, and she knew she could still pull away. She should be cautious. She should run....

His head bent to hers and she raised her mouth for his kiss.

His hand was large and gentle on her back, and soon it was joined by his other one in a sense-stirring duet caressing her spine. When he reached her b.u.t.tocks, he raised her to him and his tongue invaded her mouth. She gasped at the erotic contact and wrapped her legs around him. He was hot and hard, and she'd never known a sensation so pleasurable, so fulfilling, yet not quite fulfilling enough. His briefs, her suit, both wet, were little less than a film between them, making the contact even more tantalizing. His groan echoed through her and she responded to his tongue by stroking against it, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on for dear life.

Reed finally broke the kiss and when her gaze found his, she saw controlled desire there. "I want my hands over every part of you," he said. "I want to sink into you until the sun comes up. Is that what you want?"

Still dazed by a pa.s.sion she didn't understand and a desire that was as new as her marriage, she could hardly comprehend what he was saying. She knew he was talking about pleasure and satisfaction and s.e.x. Isn't that what had gotten them into this mess? Because his fiancee had dumped him? How could she have forgotten that even for a moment?

"No," she said breathlessly, and then louder, "No!"

His expression changed. The desire faded from his eyes and became a blue wall. "Once is enough, Mallory. There's nothing wrong with my hearing."

She remembered Winston trying to kidnap her and how many times she'd said no. Her wishes hadn't mattered to him and she wondered if it would have been any different in the bedroom. But Reed- Suddenly she remembered too well what her mother had confided in her when she was a teenager. She'd come into her mother's room and found her sitting at her vanity, a stack of letters in her hand.

"What are they?" Mallory had asked.

Her mother had said, "I was cleaning out the closet and found them with your father's things. They're letters from his first wife, Dawson's mother." And then she told Mallory something Mallory had never forgotten. "He wouldn't have kept them unless they meant something to him, Mallory. I've always suspected he came to me because of a midlife crisis and once the damage was done to his marriage, he couldn't go back. There's a lesson here, honey. They had that 'always' kind of love, and that kind lasts forever. Your father is my true love, but I'm not his. If I hadn't been blinded by my love for him, I would have realized it before we married. Don't ever marry a man who still has ties to another woman."

Reed still had ties to another woman.

His voice was a husky rasp when he said, "Just drop your legs and I'll put you down."

She'd wrapped her legs around him to fit to him...to give them both a taste of fulfillment. But a taste wasn't nearly enough, and she wasn't about to give any more when he still had feelings for his fiancee. She suspected Reed wasn't the type of man who could love a woman one minute and forget about her the next.

Even though she unwound her legs, she felt his arousal as he lowered her. Still, embarra.s.sment didn't keep her from asking, "Reed?"

His hands slipped from her and he stepped back. "What?" His voice was gritty with a desire she could still feel, too.

"Were you involved with anyone before Stephanie?"

"Involved? You mean, in a serious relationship?"

"Yes."

"No. Stephanie was the first."

Her heart sinking, Mallory turned away from him and made her way to the bank.

"Mallory, it's over with Stephanie," he called to her.