Rancher's Wild Secret

But Emerson loved her father. And she loved the winery.

And as for romantic love…

Well, she’d never been in love. It was a hypothetical. But all these other loves were not. And as far as sex and passion went…

She hadn’t slept with Donovan yet. But she’d been with two other men. One boyfriend in college, one out of college. And it just hadn’t been anything worth upending her life over.

She and Donovan shared goals and values. Surely they could mesh those things together and create a life.

Why not marry for the sake of the vineyard? To make her father happy?

Why not?

Emerson sighed and surveyed the room.

Everything was beautiful. Of course it was. The party was set in her family’s gorgeous mountaintop tasting room, the view of the vineyards stretching out below, illuminated by the full moon.

Emerson walked out onto the balcony. There were a few people out there, on the far end, but they didn’t approach her. Keeping people at a distance was one of her gifts. With one smile she could attract everyone in the room if she chose. But she could also affect a blank face that invited no conversation at all.

She looked out over the vineyards and sighed yet again.

“What are you doing out here?”

A smile tugged at the corner of Emerson’s mouth. Because of course, she could keep everyone but her baby sister Cricket from speaking to her when she didn’t want to be spoken to. Cricket basically did what she wanted.

“I just needed some fresh air. What are you doing here? Weren’t you carded at the door?”

“I’m twenty-one, thank you,” Cricket sniffed, looking…well, not twenty-one, at least not to Emerson.

Emerson smirked. “Oh. How could I forget?”

Truly, she couldn’t forget, as she had thrown an absolutely spectacular party for Cricket, which had made Cricket look wide-eyed and uncomfortable, particularly in the fitted dress Emerson had chosen for her. Cricket did not enjoy being the center of attention.

Emerson did like it. But only on her terms.

Cricket looked mildly incensed in the moonlight. “I didn’t come out here to be teased.”

“I’m sorry,” Emerson responded, sincere because she didn’t want to hurt her sister. She only wanted to mildly goad her, because Cricket was incredibly goadable.

Emerson looked out across the vast expanse of fields and frowned when she saw a figure moving among the vines.

It was a man. She could tell even from the balcony that he had a lean, rangy body, and the long strides of a man who was quite tall.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Cricket said, peering down below. “Should I get Dad?”

“No,” Emerson said. “I can go down.”

She knew exactly who was supposed to be at the party, and who wasn’t.

And if this man was one of the Coopers from Cowboy Wines, then she would have reason to feel concerned that he was down there sniffing around to get trade secrets.

Not that their top rival had ever stooped to that kind of espionage before, but she didn’t trust anyone. Not really.

Wine-making was a competitive industry, and it was only becoming more so.

Emerson’s sister Wren always became livid at the mere mention of the Cooper name, and was constantly muttering about all manner of dirty tricks they would employ to get ahead. So really, anything was possible.

“I’ll just run down and check it out.”

“You’re going to go down and investigate by yourself?”

“I’m fine.” Emerson waved a hand. “I have a cell phone, and the place is heavily populated right now. I don’t think I’m going to have any issues.”

“Emerson…”

Emerson slipped back inside, and out a side door, moving quickly down the stairs, not listening to her sister at all. She didn’t know why, but she felt compelled to see who the man was for herself.

Maybe because his arrival was the first truly interesting thing to happen all evening. She went in the direction where she’d last seen the figure, stepping out of the golden pool of light spilling from the party and into the grapevines. The moonlight illuminated her steps, though it was pale and left her hands looking waxen.

She rounded one row of grapevines into the next, then stopped, frozen.

She had known he was tall, even from a distance. But he was…very tall. And broad.

Broad shoulders, broad chest. He was wearing a cowboy hat, which seemed ridiculous at night, because it wasn’t keeping the sun off him. He had on a tight black T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

And he was not a Cooper.

She had never seen the man before in her life. He saw her and stopped walking. He lifted his head up, and the moonlight caught his features. His face was sculpted, beautiful. So much so that it immobilized her. That square jaw was visible in even this dim light.

“I… Have you lost your way?” she asked. “The party is that way. Though… I’m fairly certain you’re not on the guest list.”

“I wasn’t invited to any party,” he said, his voice rough and raspy, made for sin.

Made for sin?

She didn’t know where such a thought had come from.

Except, it was easy to imagine that voice saying all kinds of sinful things, and she couldn’t credit why.

“Then… Forgive me, but what are you doing here?”

“I work here,” he said. “I’m the new ranch hand.”

Damn if she wasn’t Little Red Riding Hood delivered right to the Big Bad Wolf.

Except, she wasn’t wearing a scarlet cloak. It was a scarlet dress that clung to her generous curves like wrapping paper around a tempting present.