The Ryders: Jared, Royce and Stephanie: Seduction and the CEO. Barbara Dunlop

worked his jaw.

      She paused, waiting for him, but he didn’t make a sound.

      She suddenly realized his gaze wasn’t fixed on her. He was focused on a spot behind her left shoulder. Her scalp prickled.

      Uh-oh. She twisted her head and came face-to-face with Jared Ryder.

      It was clear he was annoyed. He was also taller than she’d realized, and intimidating, with that strong chin and those deep blue eyes. He wore a fitted, Western-cut shirt and snug blue jeans. His shoulders were broad, his chest deep, and his sleeves were rolled halfway up his forearms, revealing a deep tan and obvious muscle definition.

      “Don’t want to what?” he asked Melissa, his tone a low rumbling challenge.

      She didn’t have a quick answer for that, and his deep blue gaze flicked to the silent chauffeur. “There’s coffee in the cookhouse.” He gave the man a nod in the appropriate direction.

      The chauffeur immediately took his cue and hustled away.

      Jared’s tone turned to steel, the power of his irritation settling fully on Melissa. “I’d sure appreciate it if you could flirt on your own time.”

      “I …” What could she tell him? That she wasn’t flirting? That, in fact, she was spying?

      Better to go with flirting.

      “I’m sorry,” she told him, offering no excuses.

      He gave a curt nod of acknowledgment, followed by a long assessing gaze that made her glad she was only pretending to be his employee.

      “I don’t know why Stephanie hired you,” he finally stated.

      Melissa wasn’t sure how to answer that, or even if he expected an answer. The only thing she did know was that she was determined to take advantage of the opportunity to talk to him alone.

      “You’re Stephanie’s brother?” she asked, pretending she hadn’t been poring over his press coverage on the Internet.

      “She tells me you grew up around horses,” he countered, instead of answering the question.

      “I did.” Melissa nodded. Technically it was true. She gestured to the northern paddocks. “You obviously grew up around a lot of them.”

      “My qualifications aren’t at issue.”

      “Stephanie seemed fine with mine.” Melissa valiantly battled the nerves bubbling in her stomach. “I saw the main house yesterday. The one your grandparents built. Were you born on the Ryder Ranch?”

      A muscle ticked in his left cheek. “Since you’re obviously not busy with anything else, I need you to move my horse to the riverside pen. The one with the red gate.”

      “Sure.” The brave word jumped out before she had a chance to censor it.

      “Name’s Tango.” Jared pointed to a paddock on the other side of the driveway turnaround where a black horse pranced and bucked his way around the fence line. Its head was up, ears pointed, and it was tossing his mane proudly for the three horses in the neighboring pen.

      Melissa’s bravado instantly evaporated.

      “You can tack him up if you like,” Jared continued. “Or he’s fine bareback.”

      Bareback? She swallowed. Not that a saddle would help.

      “Melissa?”

      Okay. New plan. Forget the interview, it was time for a quick exit.

      “I … just …” she stammered. “I … uh … just remembered, I’m off shift.”

      His brows twitched upward. “We have shifts?”

      “I mean …” She blinked up at him. What? What? What the hell did she say?

      She rubbed the bruise on her left butt cheek, making a show of wincing. “My fall. Earlier. I’m a little stiff and sore.”

      “Too stiff to sit on a horse?” He clearly found the excuse preposterous.

      “I’m also a little rusty.” She attempted to look contrite and embarrassed. “I haven’t ridden for a while.”

      He cocked his head, studying her all over again. “It’s like riding a bike.”

      She was sure it was.

      “Tack’s on the third stand. Don’t let him hold his breath when you cinch the saddle.”

      As far as she was concerned, Tango could do any old thing he pleased. She wasn’t going to stop him from holding his breath. Quite frankly she’d rather chase lions around Lincoln Park.

      “I really can’t—”

      “We fire people who can’t get the job done,” Jared flatly warned her.

      The threat stopped Melissa cold. If she got fired, she’d be thrown off the property. She could kiss the article and her promotion goodbye. And if Seth found out she’d been here, she could probably kiss her job at the Bizz goodbye, too.

      “I hope you won’t,” she said in all sincerity.

      Jared searched her expression for a long moment. His voice went low, and the space between them grew smaller. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”

      “I’ve been working really hard,” she told him without hesitation.

      “Not at the moment,” he pointed out.

      “It’s six o’clock.”

      “We’re not nine to five on Ryder Ranch.”

      “I’m prepared for that.”

      He edged almost imperceptibly closer, revealing tiny laugh lines beside his eyes and a slight growth of beard along his tanned square jaw. “Are you?”

      She ignored the tug of attraction to his rugged masculinity. “Yes.”

      “You’ll pull your own weight?”

      “I will.”

      “You can’t depend on your looks around here.”

      Melissa drew back in surprise.

      “If I catch you batting those big green eyes—”

      “I never—”

      He leaned closer still and she shut her mouth. “You mess with my cowboys, and your pretty little butt will be off the property in a heartbeat.”

      A rush of heat prickled her cheeks. “I have no intention of messing with your cowboys.”

      A cloud rolled over the setting sun, and a chill dampened the charged air between them.

      Jared’s nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened to indigo in the shifting light. He stared at her for a lengthening moment, then his head canted to one side.

      How his kiss might feel bloomed unbidden in her mind. It would be light, then firm, then harder still as he pulled her body flush against his own. A flash of heat stirred her body as the wind gusted between them, forming tiny dust devils on the driveway and rustling the tall, summer grass.

      The ranch hands still shouted to one another. Hooves still thudded against the packed dirt. And the diesel engines still rumbled in the distance.

      “See that you don’t,” he finally murmured. “And move my damn horse.”

      “Fine,” she ground out, quashing the stupid hormonal reaction. She’d move the damn horse or die trying.

      Later that evening, in Stephanie’s dining room, Jared struggled to put Melissa out of his mind. His sister had obviously hired the woman out of pity. Then Jared had kept her on for the same reason. He wasn’t sure who’d made the bigger mistake.

      “We’ve