He watched as she bent down to pick a long stalk of grass. “I’d have to have a real good reason. I figure I’ll save my money, buy a place of my own someday.”
Living and working out on the land, he couldn’t imagine anything better. Certainly not sitting all day in a college classroom, no matter how much his father wanted him to. José Mendoza hadn’t taken the news of his twenty-year-old son dropping out well. To avoid skull fractures from the two of them butting heads in the family’s restaurant, Red, Roberto had come to work at the Double Crown, where his uncle Ruben Mendoza ran operations for the Fortune family.
And where the lovely, coltish Frannie had appeared for a visit just days later.
Too bad she’d somehow gotten snowed into dating Lloyd Fredericks, the original self-important, silver-spoon guy. But she was a Fortune and he was a Fredericks, so maybe they did belong together. It still set Roberto’s teeth on edge every time he saw Fredericks drive in to pick her up. The jerk didn’t deserve a woman like Frannie.
“So, what are you going to call your ranch?” Frannie interrupted his thoughts. “The Rocking RM? The Double R?”
“I was thinking Red Oaks.”
“How about the Slowpoke?” she offered.
His eyes narrowed. “Remind me again who won when we raced last week?”
“That’s because you had an unfair advantage,” she argued. “Cisco’s two hands taller than Peaches. We had to outsmart you.”
What she’d done was about stop his heart when he’d seen her tearing up the side of the hill. She might have started out quiet and shy, but she was fearless now.
“You just got lucky this time,” he said.
“No, I was prepared,” Frannie corrected him, twirling her grass. “Lloyd says that’s what luck is, just opportunity meeting preparation.”
“That sounds like your boyfriend. Always looking for an angle.”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just going out. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about Lloyd. You buy Red Oaks and I’ll come to visit.” She gave him an impish look. “And Peaches and I will beat you then, too.”
He reached out and swiped the blade of grass from her hand.
“Hey,” she protested.
“You need to learn some respect for your elders.”
“My elders?” She snorted. “You think a fancy new hat makes you all grown-up?” That all-too-delectable mouth of hers curved.
Roberto eyed her. “You got a problem with my hat?”
“I don’t know, but maybe you do.” And quick as a flash, she swiped the black Stetson and dashed away, squealing.
He sprinted after her. “Oh, you’re gonna be sorry.”
“Big talk,” she scoffed, clapping the hat on top of her head. She was willow thin and fleet, feinting one direction and dashing the other, making him give chase until both of them were laughing and out of breath, circling the red oak that crowned the top of the hill.
“Give it up,” he told her as they faced off on either side of a stand of piñon.
She glanced over to Peaches as though judging her distance. “Not a chance.” She faked one way and he mirrored her, faked the other. And then she went just a fraction too far and he whipped around the tree and caught her, snaking an arm around her waist to draw her in.
“That’s it, chica, you’re in for it now,” he growled.
“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do to me?” There was humor in those soft blue eyes, and mischief and glee. And under it all, something else, something that started the blood rushing in his veins. He caught a hint of scent that made him think of spring and sunshine. He could feel every breath she took. His pulse thundered in his ears.
She wasn’t even out of school yet, he reminded himself. He worked for her uncle. He had no business kissing her. Even as his lips hovered over hers, he made himself release her.
And then Frannie leaned in to press her sweet, warm mouth to his.
© Harlequin Books S.A. 2009
Available in March 2010
from Mills & Boon®
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First published in Great Britain 2009
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© Christine Rimmer 2009
ISBN: 978-1-4089-2030-5
The Stranger and Tessa Jones Page 18
