by Kristi Gold
Although she had a bad case of the nerves from being alone with him, Tori felt as if she’d discovered a treasure trove. A person could tell a lot about a man by what he kept in his private domain.
When he remained at the door, staring at her expectantly, she turned toward the shelves, grasping for something to focus on other than him. If not, she ran the risk of repeating what had almost happened before Buck’s interruption. Right now, she had to concentrate on the business at hand—his interview.
“Very interesting assortment of books,” she said as she perused the collection.
“I have eclectic taste.”
Eclectic. Another glimpse of the Ivy League boy. Man, she corrected. Very much a man. “I can see that.”
She tracked a visual path from the top shelf that held numerous Louis L’Amour books to the one below where she found several business digests. But the volume of poetry caught her immediate attention.
Tori looked back to find Mitch had taken a seat on the sofa, his tanned arm thrown casually over the back, one leg crossed over the other as if he planned to stay a while. She held up the book. “Is this a leftover from college?”
“Is there some reason why I wouldn’t like a little poetry?”
Keeping her back to him, she flipped through the pages. “It just doesn’t fit your persona. I’m betting you’ve kept it to im press the girls.”
“You’re wrong.”
She turned and leaned back against the shelves, the book clutched to her chest. “Prove it. Name one poem—”
“‘Twice or thrice I have loved thee, before I knew thy face or name. So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame. Angels affect us oft, and worshipped be.’ John Donne. From Air and Angels.”
Tori couldn’t find her voice, couldn’t find the strength to look away from his intense gaze. For the first time in a long time, she’d been stricken speechless.
He smiled, but only halfway. “Proof enough?”
“You could say that.” She turned and replaced the book before facing him again. “You are certainly full of surprises, Mr. Warner. I’m very impressed.”
“Haven’t you heard someone recite poetry before?”
Not a to-die-for enigmatic man with a voice so strong, so resolute, so masculine that the verse had sounded like an invitation to seduction.
“My mother was a sucker for The Itsy Bitsy Spider. Does that count?”
He unfolded from the sofa and approached her slowly. “This was one of my mother’s favorites.”
Tori did well not to gasp when he brushed her arm as he reached around her. She took the weathered book he offered, The Little Engine That Could, opening it to the first page, yellowed from time yet holding a message that would probably never fade.
“My dear baby boy. Happy first birthday! Never let anyone tell you that you can’t.—Love, Mama.”
“She read that to me every night until I turned eight and decided I was too grown up to hear it again,” he said, a trace of sadness in his tone. “She was a large part of my success.”
A mix of emotions ran through Tori. She was flattered he had shown her something so special, and somewhat confused as to why he had. Touched by the fact that he’d kept the book all these years, and saddened by the reminder of her own mother. “My mom contributed to my success, too. She was always there when I needed her.”
“I still miss mine and it’s been almost fifteen years since her death.”
Tori recognized that was his reason for sharing, to let her know that he could relate to her loss, her pain. A connection. Common ground. What a totally thoughtful thing to do. If not careful, she was going to take a plunge and land totally in love with this man.
“What about your father?” he asked quietly.
Tori shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “He’s not in my life. Good riddance, as far as I’m concerned.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. My mother handled both roles very well.” Tori handed him the book and sent him a shaky smile. “Life goes on, and so should this interview.”
He slid the book back into place. “So when do we start the process?”
“Actually, we already have.”
He frowned. “Aren’t you going to take some notes?”
She tapped one finger against her temple. “Right now, I’m relying on this. Later, I will use a recorder when we get into detailed specifics and quotes.”
“About the ranching business?”
“Yes, and that’s next. But it’s nice to know a little more about the man beneath the façade now that I’ve seen your choice in books.”
He kept his gaze trained on her eyes. “You really think you know me by my taste in literature?”
“I know that you like westerns and probably fantasized about being a cowboy from a very early age. I know that beneath the tough guy exterior you have a poet’s soul and a great love for your mother. I learned all of that in about ten minutes, tops.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Tori.” His tone sounded serious and edgy.
“I’m sure there is. And when I leave here, I still won’t know everything about you. But I will know enough to do a fantastic story.” She would also know the incredible high of making love with him, if only one wonderful time.
He propped one hand against the shelf above her head and leaned toward her. His expression went from solemn to seductive. “What about you, Tori? When are you going to tell me a little more about what you like?”
Considering the grainy quality of his voice, Tori decided he might as well have added “in bed” to the end of the query. His blue eyes had enough power to light an entire metropolis, enough to make Tori forget once more why she was there.
Ducking under his arm, she played nosy reporter and assessed the mess on his desk. “Let’s talk about your business now.”
“You’re being evasive.”
She turned and used the desk for support. “I’m being a journalist. Journalists interview subjects, and you are the subject, not me.”
He moved in front of her, this time keeping a comfortable distance, but not far enough away to alleviate Tori’s discomfort. “One of these days, I’m going to make you talk more about yourself.”
“Are you going to tie me up and threaten to brand me?”
He rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. “Hadn’t thought about tying you up, but that might be interesting.”
“Cut it out, Mitch, or I’ll go get your grandfather to put you in your place.”
“Speaking of places, I have one special place I need to show you.”
“That wouldn’t be down the hall, would it?”
His grin made another showboat appearance. “If you want to see that particular place, I’ll be glad to show you any time. You just say the word.”
Oh, but she wanted to say it. She wanted to find his bed and stay there with him the rest of the day and well into the night. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think so. Now exactly where are we going?”
“Somewhere that involves both business and sex.”
* * *
“We call this the Happy Place. It’s where we collect semen from the bulls.”
Mitch expected Tori to be somewhat shocked, as Mary Alice had been when he’d shown her the sterile room situated in the main barn. He figured the reporter might as well become accustomed to every aspect of his business, even the less than pleasant ones. But she didn’t seem at all bothered by this particular setting.
Instead, she turned to him and asked, “Do you practice artificial insemination on your own herd or do you ship frozen semen? My guess is that you do both.”
Mitch was more than a little bowled over by her query. “How do you know about livestock AI?”
She shrugged. “I worked part-time for a horse breeder during college. He taught me how to collect from his stallion. I can’t say that it thrilled me exactly, but I learned a lot, the most important lesson being to hang on to the lead rope when you’ve got a
stud who’s hot after a teasing mare.”
If Mitch had less presence of mind, his mouth would’ve hit the ground. “He got away?”
“Almost, but I caught him before he mounted the mare instead of the dummy. That would have been a disaster, since she was a Welsh pony and he was a seventeen-hand thoroughbred. He might have hurt her.”
Even though Mitch was used to the breeding terminology, even though he’d seen both horses and bulls collected for the process of artificial insemination, it seemed kind of odd coming out of Tori’s mouth, a woman with a face as innocent as they come. And considering his recent questionable state of mind, he didn’t need to hear her say words like “mount” and “hot” and “teasing” either.
He swiped a hand over the back of his neck. “Guess I don’t need to go into great detail about what happens then.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Okay, then come with me back here.”
He showed her to his business office, the oak paneled walls containing only his framed diploma, his desk clear of any signs of chaos, the way that he liked his life. He suspected Tori was somewhat surprised by his organization considering the demolition mess in the den.
“This is quite different from your home office,” she said, confirming his suspicions.
“That’s my private study I showed you earlier,” he said. “Buck’s in there a lot and he’s not real neat. He likes to use that computer to play games and wander into a chat room now and then.”
“It’s nice that the Internet provides a place for senior citizens to go.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t go there. He likes to hang out with the 30-something crowd. He says the old fogies are boring.”
She laughed, a soft musical sound that brought back Mitch’s reminiscence of the first time he’d heard her laugh. The first time he’d heard her sing. The first time—and the last time—they had made love.
Once more, his body reminded him that it only took a thought or two to propel him back into lust mode. But he was quickly realizing that with Tori Barnett, the lust was secondary to the fact that he really liked her, probably a lot more than he should. After all, she would only be here for a few more days and then they’d both go back to pursuing their careers instead of mutual pleasure. Unfortunately, she hadn’t agreed to exploring that pleasure thing again—yet.
Tori slid her fingertips back and forth over the edge of the desk, causing Mitch to look away for the sake of his sanity. “You obviously have a good program going on here,” she said.
That wasn’t all he had going on. “Yeah. We raise a few Red Angus, the last of Buck’s herd. We have two top-grade bulls and about fifty heifers for breeding.”
“That’s all?”
“Yeah.”
“And you make a living on that?”
He bypassed her and slipped behind his desk to retrieve a business card. “Here,” he said as he slid it forward.
Tori studied the card for a few minutes before raising her eyes to his. “This says L and W Consulting. What kind of consulting?”
“Cattle consulting. I’ve developed several methods that ensure quality stock. I employ a few men and women who go out in the field to present workshops to various ranchers all over the country. We teach them how to get the most out of their breeding programs. We also distribute instructional software and videos that I helped develop with Rand Wilson.”
“Rand?”
“He’s one of my ranch hands, but he’s also a computer wiz.”
“I assume you do this to supplement the ranch income.”
“It isn’t a sideline; it’s a very lucrative business. I’ve made enough money to retire at least twice and live in Maui. I needed to put my business degree to good use. Of course, there are a few young ranchers who need a hand in getting started. I usually provide my services for free to them.”
“You’re an enigma,” Tori said. “A true renaissance cowboy.”
“I’m driven. I always have been.”
And she was driving him crazy every time she looked at him, not to mention every time she nibbled on her bottom lip. What the hell was wrong with him? Could he not spend more than fifteen minutes in her presence without wanting to crawl all over her? Hell, a thirty-three-year-old man shouldn’t be this wildly out of control over a woman he barely knew, even if at times he felt as if he’d known her a lot longer than three days. That was nuts.
She strolled to the small window facing the back paddock. “Well, I see a horse out there. I suppose that means you still work cattle the old-fashioned way.”
Mitch walked up behind her, keeping his hands fisted so he wouldn’t touch her. He needed to take this slowly from now on, otherwise she might keep running away. He didn’t want her to run away. He didn’t want her going anywhere in the near future except maybe into his arms again.
“That’s my gelding, Ray. Buck gave him to me for my seventeenth birthday. He’s on up in years, but he still has a few miles left. One of these days, I’m going to have to retire him.”
“He looks like he’s in great shape.”
So was she, Mitch decided as he took a visual tour down her back and over her butt. She had a great body, and he had a building pressure below his belt buckle in response.
Mitch hadn’t realized how close he had moved to her until Tori turned and practically ran into his chest. Deciding to give her a little space and a reason to trust him, he took a step back.
She crossed her arms over her breasts as if trying shield herself from him. “Okay, you have a successful business and a wonderful house that’s probably at least four bedrooms.”
“And four baths.”
“You must be planning to have a large family with lots of kids.”
“That has never been in my plans.”
“Why?”
This was a subject he didn’t really care to broach, but he needed to be honest with her now. “Because I’ve never put much stock in marriage.”
“Your parents were happily married for quite a while, as I recall.”
“Before my father…” Whoa, Mitch. He was getting a little carried away with his open book bit.
Her gaze didn’t waver. “Before your father did what?”
Betrayed his entire family by not sticking around when he was needed most. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude since that subject is apparently very painful for you.”
Damn. She could see right through him. No one had been able to do that before, especially not a woman. But Tori was an extraordinary woman and too intuitive for Mitch’s own good. “I’m over it.”
“But you can’t forget it, can you?”
“Tori,” he said in a warning voice.
“I know. I know. Nothing too personal.” She grabbed a lock of her hair and began twisting it into a spiral. “So what shall we see next?”
If Mitch had his way, he’d show her his bedroom and release all his frustration, his latent anger, in one long, hard session of lovemaking. “You need to go back to Stella’s to settle in and I need to do some work.”
“Can I watch for a while?”
“No. If you’re in here, I won’t be able to concentrate.”
“I’ll try to be really quiet.”
And he’d be trying to silence her with his mouth. “You don’t have to say anything to distract me, Tori. You only have to stand there, looking pretty.”
“I’ll definitely make a note of your penchant for flattery.”
She had no clue about her beauty, and Mitch found that very engaging. “I don’t throw out compliments that often, so accept it graciously and go visit with Stella for a while. I’ll see you later.”
She stuck out her lip in a pretend pout. “Okay. I guess I need to get my camera loaded anyway.”
“Camera?”
“Yes, I brought it for the wedding, then promptly left it at Stella’s house without taking a single picture. I have plenty of film left and that�
��s where you’ll come in.”
Hell, he didn’t like the sound of that. “You plan to take pictures of me?”
“Sure. A few candid shots of you and the ranch. And if you’re concerned, I’ve taken tons of photography classes. I’m fairly good at it.”
“I have no doubt about that.” He had no doubt she was good at everything she endeavored.
“Normally I’d have a staff photographer come and do it, but I assumed you wouldn’t want anyone else involved in this. That means you’re stuck with me.”
Funny, Mitch didn’t feel at all stuck with her. He did feel incredibly hot at the moment, and on the verge of compromising his dignity. For a man who’d always prided himself on self-control, he was bordering on the edge of losing it big time. He collapsed into his chair and laced his hands behind his head before she caught him having a weak moment. “Get out of here, Tori, before…”
“Before what?”
Before he changed his mind, locked the door, and tried one more time to seduce her out of her sneakers, and everything else. “Before it’s dinnertime and I don’t get a thing accomplished today.”
“Oh, but you’ve accomplished a lot.”
“What would that be?”
“You just spent the last twenty minutes without trying to kiss me. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
He leaned forward and locked into her gaze. “You have no idea how hard it’s been.” Or how hard it was going to be as long as he wanted her this badly, and that could be for a long while.
Dinner with Stella and Bobby had been pleasant enough. The evening entertainment was not.
Tori covered her face with her hands following the first moan, then crushed the pillow over her head when the succession of name calling began.
Admittedly, tonight the love sounds bothered her on a different level. She didn’t want to be reminded that if she would just say the word, she could be in Mitch’s bed enjoying a little love fest of her own. In fact, she was beginning to wonder why she’d continued to fight Mitch, fight her overriding attraction to him. Sure, she should try to remain objective while gathering information. But no one would have to know what they did in the dead of night.