by Susan Arden
She smothered a laugh behind her wine glass and rolled her glimmering eyes. “Central Florida has plenty of ranches. You aren’t my first cattle client. I sent you my resume. Didn’t you have time to read it?”
“Of course,” he replied. “It was the reason I hired you.”
Carolina’s expression morphed into a study of concentration. “There is such a thing as sophistication and behavior management to approach a fifteen-hundred-pound animal. From what I’ve gathered your operation is pretty sophisticated. That means you’ve got the pens and stables where samples can be collected.”
“Go on,” he prompted Carolina. “Any luck with bovine diseases before?” He had not only read her resume, it was her genetic research that had intrigued him. Apart from her education, the one reason he had selected Carolina Rodriguez was her extensive experience in diagnosing disease in breed cattle using the latest in pathological analysis methodology. He’d checked her references and each client he’d spoken with reported her exceptional ability to treat dire cases. But being in a lab and out on a ranch were light years apart.
“From what you’ve explained, after some blood sampling and DNA analysis, we’ll have an answer, pretty quick. Just so you know, I don’t think it’ll be too hard to get to the bottom of your cattle problem.”
“Sit with me,” he said. “I’d like to hear about what you propose to do. No one else has talked about DNA before and had an actual failproof plan. We had some researchers who looked for disease strains that infect all cattle. They focused on a generic illness, not the cattle themselves.”
Carolina’s chin snapped up. “You’ve already alluded to the issue. I’m in agreement. I believe the answer is in your breeding methods. What did you do with the carcasses?”
Matt stiffened. “Disposed of each one off-site. Another cow was found this morning. Its calf most likely will expire by tomorrow. Each day, I pray our logs are free of suspected cattle. No such luck.”
“Is that why you were so upset today?” she asked, tilting her head to the side as if trying to get a read on him.
God, he’d been more than upset. The cow they’d lost he’d raised from a calf. He’d almost hurled his laptop out of the car window. His temper sometimes got the better of him and lately, it was happening more and more. What would Carolina do if he admitted, some days it was like fighting a losing battle. “I don’t take kindly to news of deaths on the ranch.”
“Nor should you,” she murmured, nodding and glancing down at her own hands.
Matt let his gaze follow the outline of her face and then lower, down her neck to a point that pulsed. A vein under her skin throbbed, captivating his focus. Carolina was standing on the point of a pin.
Here was a woman, who without even stepping foot on his property presented a solution that no one else was willing to entertain. To speak of breeding, insinuate there was a flaw, you either had balls of steel or were very, very hard-nosed in the cattle business. Hundreds of thousands of dollars were spent on breeding cattle that included stock lines traced not a hundred years, but since the time the west was won. Carolina Rodriguez had no idea that uttering these words could get her in serious trouble. His father would bust a gut if her proposition were shared.
“We’ll need a tissue sample from the bulls and a cow from the herd,” Carolina said in a low voice. She glanced up and met his gaze. “For DNA comparison required in pathological testing. I’m betting breeding samples are faulty and I promise, we will know in short order.”
He leaned over closer, half-expecting her to pull away. She didn’t. “For all our sakes, don’t ever say that to anyone but me,” he whispered into Carolina’s ear.
“Why would I? There’s confidentiality between a vet and their clients.”
Matt’s cheek brushed against her hair. He inhaled the perfume off her skin. It was all he could do to back away from her. Their eyes met and fused. Her lips trembled and she moved closer, infinitesimally, but he noted her non-verbal message.
“Carolina, I’m not doubting your ethics,” he murmured in a hoarse voice. “In the cattle business, money talks and everything else walks. Too many people can be bought. I come from a long line of ranchers. Not one would want to hear their lines were less than strong. It’s a macho thing. Get my drift?”
“Completely, not that I agree,” she replied.
“We’re going to need a change of plan. I can’t bring you in and tell everyone what you’re doing. Not if you suspect breeding. I’d already considered having you work at night and in the fields, miles away from the main house. I can see you’re going to need access to the outbuildings, barns, and stables.” A host of places. Free access and free rein and without arousing anyone’s suspicions.
“That’s the routine.” Carolina’s brow arched in question. “I’ll also need access to all the ranch files. Even your stock samples. Logs, records, basically everything that deals with breeding. Is there a problem?”
“That depends.”
“On what?” She stood close enough for him to notice the swell of her breasts bunched up against the bar.
“The files are in the main building. Right next to my father’s and uncle’s offices.” Matt clenched his jaw, unwilling to open his family’s dynamics at this juncture. “Do you want another drink?”
“No,” she said. “I’ve had enough. I want something far different. There’s something you aren’t saying. What is it, Mr. McLemore? I can’t help you unless you’re completely open with me. I get this vibe that you’re holding back.”
She was reading him like a book. Their breaths warmed the air between them. This was impossible. He needed her insight and veterinary services. He wanted to take her into his arms and latch his mouth onto hers, tasting her in a long, drawn-out kiss.
“Everyone has secrets, Carolina.”
“But we aren’t talking about everyone, Mr. McLemore. There’s only two people in this equation.”
“Checkmate,” he gritted out.
“Either you’re straight with me, or forget it. If it means hearing from your attorneys, so be it. I can’t do my job if I’m blindsided. I won’t be traveling to Annona unless you give me full disclosure.”
“And if I do, then come hell or high water, I expect you at the ranch on Monday. Do we have a deal?”
Dr. Rodriguez possessed two things he wanted very badly. Her ability to save his family’s failing cattle ranch and a promise of a night he’d remember for years. Taking one would mean giving the other up, because he couldn’t have both. This wasn’t the type of woman a man could take to bed, then work next to as if nothing had happened.
Carolina held out her slender hand and he took it, clasping her palm to his in a gentle handshake. “Agreed,” she said.
There was no point in denying the truth, but only an idiot would actually voice it aloud. If he got Carolina between the sheets, he’d want to do it over and over. They needed a cover for a variety of reasons, but namely to keep this woman safe. Some seemingly innocent reason for her to be at the ranch, but not as an employee.
He scrubbed his hand over his face. For a brief second, he studied Carolina — the woman and the doctor. Acutely, Matt was aware of what he hungered to do didn’t mesh with what he had to do. Where Carolina was concerned, his personal and business worlds were on different planes. Unless, he could find a way to meld them both into a workable solution. He forked his fingers through his hair, searching for an answer.
If a breeding solution was proven with black-and-white facts, not a suggestion, it wouldn’t matter if she was green, polka-dotted, and part mermaid. His father, Wade McLemore, would accept Carolina’s diagnosis without a qualm. It was getting from this point to that point that muddied Matt’s thoughts, unless he put the burden on Carolina, to keep her distance.
In a flash, it came to him. Matt grinned and almost laughed out loud at the audacity. It was crazy and perfect.
“Look, what do you say if you came home with me an
d we pretended to be dating?”
“Are you off your rocker?” she huffed.
“Not in the least. A couple of times, maybe more, you did mention that you were a professional.”
“Ha-ha,” she quipped. “This isn’t a laughing matter.”
“I’m in agreement. Tough times, demand tough answers. What you’re suggesting is dangerous. Stock lines once deemed faulty affect Wall Street prices. People do all sorts of insane things when stock lines become problematic. You’re suggesting we’ve got a breeding problem. It’s what I’ve thought. Not said. Can’t openly admit without solid proof.”
“Do you mean we have to do this in secret?”
At the moment, Matt wasn’t thinking of covert ranching activities. Carolina’s pouty lips held his attention and he wondered what it would be like to kiss her into submission.
“Not in secret, just under wraps. For now. We don’t want someone fearing for their livelihood. Trust me on that one. At Evermore, we generally breed by stock lines from other ranches. That’s someone’s reputation we’d be casting doubt on.”
“Genome studies are common. This type of analysis I’ve done isn’t something out of a science fiction movie. I don’t understand why a ranch would go to pieces if we found a flaw in a breeding line.”
“Throw around a suggestion concerning a bad seed or poor seed, that’s how ranch fires occur. I won’t have my cattle set on fire inside our barns. You get my meaning? This isn’t just a bunch of sophisticated gentlemen we’ll be questioning. Ranch workers will get laid off. These are folks who work to pay a note on their home, feed their family, and hope to God that there’ll be work next year. Those men who sit around in the Gentleman’s Cattle Club will turn in an insurance claim without blinking. Don’t think for an instant that this is the type of news we can release and then take back.”
Carolina’s eyes had grown to the size of plates. “I understand the serious nature of this. But why can’t you just say I’m your friend?”
Matt’s mouth tightened into a grim line. He stared into her stormy gray eyes and growled, “For one, I haven’t got any female friends. And I sure as hell couldn’t pretend with you. Not that I’m alone in this attraction we’ve got going on.”
Carolina’s face flushed bright red. “Why do you keep harping on that!”
“Because it’s true. Don’t bother to lie about our mutual attraction. Baby, both of us want to roll around in the sheets. I just can’t risk a whole ranch over a good time.”
To her credit, she didn’t look away. “We’re just going to show up at your ranch, hook up, and hang out. That will take some real acting.”
He leaned in closer again. “Darlin’, it’s not like we don’t want to do it. You could always pretend to be old-fashioned. A woman who wants to wait. I hear there’s a couple, still left in the world.”
Fire leapt into those eyes of hers. “You’re incorrigible. Really full of yourself. Well, just so you know, I could pull it off. I’m a profe—”
“Yes, I’ve heard,” he muttered. “You’re a professional.”
“It isn’t against the law. And, I take it that I’m your last resource, Mr. McLemore. Aren’t I?”
Stunned, Matt stared at her. It was the truth and it hit home. “If you’re as good as you seem, you are.”
“Okay, then. I’m happy to oblige.” She tipped up her precious nose into the air as defiance and self-satisfaction clearly danced in her expression.
“Seems like from where I stand, you’re using that banner of professionalism to hide something. Not that I’m asking what or why. Just know, I’m a good listener, Dr. Rodriguez.”
Chapter Six
Open-mouthed, Carolina stared up at the man who was her newest employer. Matt’s spite and then seeming concern mirrored how she felt. Antagonized to the brink of getting right in his handsome face, she spluttered, “If you’re intent is to shock or confuse me, try again!”
“It isn’t,” he said. “Truce, Dr. Professional. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to find an answer.” Anger no longer rolled off him in waves. It was replaced by something simmering just below the surface.
She was a professional. It wasn’t a dirty word and she tore her gaze from Matt. Carolina wondered if his offer to listen was just that, an offer with no real backup. Heck, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that they both fueled each other into overdrive.
“Then for the sake of the next two weeks, I’m glad that we’re finally on the same page,” she admitted, not wanting to continue this verbal sparring they both seemed ill-equipped to avoid each time they spoke. “Do you want to tell me about what the land-grant college uncovered or do you plan on staying out here all evening? I hear that time is money, Mr. McLemore.”
“This isn’t only about money, this is my family’s reputation. I need professional answers to why my herd is dwindling as we speak.” His weary smile tore into her indignation.
Whether her newest boss realized it or not, he’d struck a highly volatile chord. Carolina refused to overreact but it was hard. Damn hard!
Out of habit, she shored up her anger in the only way she knew how, by being overtly polite. “Come on, we can at least eat and talk. I read the reports you sent. That’s why I suspect it isn’t actually an endemic infection that’s the root of your problem,” she whispered, then gazed around the room filled with unfamiliar faces aside from her family. “Is there anyone here interested in your business?”
“Not a soul, from what I can tell. As I said, I know Rob from Columbia, along with a couple of other guys.”
“You’re a rancher with a New York city education?”
“Don’t act so surprised. I earned an MBA for the business side of what I do. I learned ranching from my father and uncles. Two entirely different schools. Both are the best of their collective worlds.”
“Who oversees the breeding of the herd?” she asked.
“Ranch manager by the name of Brock Jenson. His father worked as the manager before him. Why?”
“Just curious if it was an off-site company.”
“Only in part. We’ve gone with local Texas breeders when needed. We started to use a sample provider from Clarkesville for the shipping. They act as a distributor. But I keep up-to-date computer spreadsheets of each breed. This isn’t exactly a backward operation. I’ve got mobile applications and can get you into our data base right now, if you’d like.”
“I’m trying to get a feel for how your ranch is set up. What happened to the carcasses of the dead cattle?”
“Disposed of off-site, as I said. They’re incinerated.”
“I don’t suppose you kept tissue samples.”
“You mean fur, hoof, muscle, and blood. Not for each. The land-grant college may have some samples. We can use the bull sperm samples linked to each cow that died. That information is part of the spreadsheet. Not an exact genome study. I’ve got a couple of tissue samples and then there’s the dead cow from today. I can collect those samples when I return home.”
“That must have been some education Columbia provided. I’m impressed.” She stalled, thinking about the fact that this would be the first job in a long time when she wouldn’t have her mobile office.
Matt sighed, “Truthfully, I’ve got teenage nieces who watch CSI and can spout off about forensics. It’s not exactly cutting edge and something I want to set up to run as routine. It’s about time my family joined the 21st century.”
At the side of the table, she stopped and laid her hand on Matt’s arm. “I haven’t thought for one moment that you’re less than a businessman who’s concerned about his family.” Something inside Carolina quickened. His taut muscles flexed under her fingers.
Matt’s face relaxed and he smiled. “It’s about time, you cut me some slack.” He held the chair for her. “If there’s one thing I need, it isn’t a battle. Even though my father is stubborn in not wanting to admit that we’re in need of a solution, I for one h
ave no such problem. If we don’t stop more cattle from dying, our ranch will be pegged as problematic. If our stock is downgraded, I don’t have to spell it out, do I?”
Now, Carolina completely understood why this rancher was in dire need. She’d accepted the job, which necessitated an ASAP arrival. Frankly, she’d been surprised when she’d provided a start date of Monday. Now, hearing how urgently her services were required, she couldn’t beg off, claiming to need to arrive by van.
“You don’t,” she replied softly. “I’ll be there as soon as possible. Maybe I can get a flight out on Sunday.”
“Monday, will be soon enough,” he assured her. “Especially after a family wedding of this magnitude.”
“Tell me about it,” she quipped.
Matt laughed and she couldn’t help but join him. A waiter came by and filled their wine glasses.
“You had me going, Carolina. I won’t lie.” He raised his glass. “To Monday and new beginnings.”
“To Monday and finding answers.” She held his gaze as they clinked glasses.
Throughout dinner, they discussed the history of his family’s ranch. He made her laugh with stories of his five brothers, of which he was the eldest. Matt relayed that all of them worked at the ranch. His sister, Corinth McLemore, was something of a princess as the youngest. He talked about her as if she were made of spun sugar.
Each time Carolina asked a question about the cattle, he had the data to back up his answer. As they spoke, he dexterously used his smartphone. Matt sent her files via the Internet or Dropbox. What must it be like for a man so capably at ease with technology to have faulty Wi-Fi holding him back? “You’re a wiz when it comes to digital information,” she commented.