Rancher's Wild Secret

But he could take everything away from the Maxfield family.

And that was what he intended to do.

“I don’t think we’ve officially met,” she said. She stuck her hand out—the one that didn’t have the ring on it. That one angled at her side, the gem sparkling in the sunlight. “I’m Emerson Maxfield.”

“Holden Brown,” he said, extending his own hand.

If James Maxfield weren’t a raging narcissist, Holden might have worried about using his real first name.

But he doubted the older man would ever connect the younger model he’d used for a couple of months and then discarded with Holden. Why would he? James probably barely remembered Soraya’s first name, much less any of her family connections. Holden himself wasn’t famous. And that was how he liked it. He’d always thought it would be handy to have anonymity. He hadn’t imagined it would be for reasons of revenge.

He closed his hand around hers. It was soft, desperately so. The hand of a woman who had never done hard labor in her life, and something in him suddenly felt desperate to make this little princess do some down and dirty work.

Preferably on his body.

He pulled his hand away.

“It’s nice to meet you, Holden,” she said.

“Nice to meet you too.” He bit the pleasantry off at the end, because anything more and he might make a mistake.

“I have some routes in mind for this new venture. Let’s go for a ride.”

Three (#u94864a16-7b5a-59ff-9b81-5a224d9f2d34)

Let’s go for a ride was not sexual.

Not in the context of the ranch. Not to a woman who was so used to being exposed to horses. As she was.

Except, she kept replaying that line over and over in her head. Kept imagining herself saying it to him.

Let’s go for a ride.

And then she would imagine herself saying it to him in bed.

She had never, ever felt like this in her entire life.

Her first time had been fine. Painless, which was nice, she supposed, but not exactly exciting.

It had been with her boyfriend at the time, who she’d known very well, and who had been extraordinarily careful and considerate.

Though, he’d cared more about keeping her comfortable than keeping her impassioned. But they had been young. So that seemed fair enough.

Her boyfriend after that had been smooth, urbane and fascinating to her. A world traveler before she had done any traveling of her own. She had enjoyed conversations with him, but she hadn’t been consumed by passion or lust or anything like that.

She had just sort of thought she was that way. And she was fine with it. She had a lot of excitement in her life. She wasn’t hurting for lack of passion.

But Holden made her feel like she might actually be missing something.

Like there was a part of herself that had been dormant for a very long time.

Right. You’ve been in the man’s presence for…a combined total of forty minutes.

Well, that made an even stronger case for the idea of exploring the thing between them. Because in that combined forty minutes, she had imagined him naked at least six times.

Had thought about closing the distance between them and kissing him on the mouth no less than seven times.

And that was insane.

He was working on the ranch, working for her father. Working for her, in essence, as she was part of the winery and had a stake in the business.

And somehow, that aroused her even more.

A man like her fiancé, Donovan, knew a whole lot about the world.

He knew advertising, and there was a heck of a lot of human psychology involved in that. And it was interesting.

But she had a feeling that a man like Holden could teach her about her own body, and that was more than interesting. It was a strange and intoxicating thought.

Also, totally unrealistic and nothing you’re going to act on.

No, she thought as she mounted her horse, and the two of them began riding along a trail that she wanted to investigate as a route for the new venture. She would never give in to this just for the sake of exploring her sensuality. For a whole list of reasons.

So you’re just going to marry Donovan and wonder what this could have been like?

Sink into the mediocre sex life that the lack of attraction between you promises. Never know what you’re missing.

Well, the thing about fantasies was they were only fantasies.

And the thing about sex with a stranger—per a great many of her friends who’d had sex with strangers—was that the men involved rarely lived up to the fantasy. Because they had no reason to make anything good for a woman they didn’t really know.

They were too focused on making it good for themselves. And men always won in those games. Emerson knew her way around her own body, knew how to find release when she needed it. But she’d yet to find a man who could please her in the same way, and when she was intimate with someone, she couldn’t ever quite let go… There were just too many things to think about, and her brain was always consumed.

It wouldn’t be different with Holden. No matter how hot he was.

And blowing up all her inhibitions over an experience that was bound to be a letdown was something Emerson simply wasn’t going to risk.

So there.

She turned her thoughts away from the illicit and forced them onto the beauty around her.

Her family’s estate had been her favorite place in the world since she was a child. But of course, when she was younger, that preference had been a hollow kind of favoritism, because she didn’t have a wide array of experiences or places to compare it to.

She did now. She’d been all over the world, had stayed in some of the most amazing hotels, had enjoyed food in the most glamorous locales. And while she loved to travel, she couldn’t imagine a time when she wouldn’t call Maxfield Vineyards home.

From the elegant spirals of the vines around the wooden trellises, all in neat rows spreading over vast acres, to the manicured green lawns, to the farther reaches where it grew wild, the majestic beauty of the wilderness so big and awe-inspiring, making her feel appropriately small and insignificant when the occasion required.

“Can I ask you a question?” His voice was deep and thick, like honey, and it made Emerson feel like she was on the verge of a sugar high.