Tempted by a Cowboy. Sarah M. Anderson

      His grip tightened on the handle, but that was the only sign he’d gotten her meaning. He probably thought the smell of the coffee masked the whiskey. Maybe it did for regular folks, but not for her.

      “How are you going to save my horse then?” It came out in the same voice he might use to ask a woman on a date.

      It was time to end this conversation before things went completely off the rails. “One day at a time.”

      Let’s see if he catches that, she thought as she opened the gate and slowly walked back into the paddock, Betty trailing at her heels.

      As she closed the gate behind her, she heard Richard come out of the barn. “Mr. Beaumont—you’re up!”

      Good. She wanted more time with Sun alone. The horse had almost calmed down before Phillip showed up. If she could get the animal to stay at a trot...

      That wasn’t happening now. Sun clearly did not like Richard, probably because the older man had been the one to tranquilize him and move him around the most. She was encouraged that, although the horse did freak out any time Phillip showed up, he had sort of settled down this morning as she and Phillip had talked in conversational tones. Sun didn’t have any negative associations with Phillip—he just didn’t like change. That was a good thing to know.

      “Just getting to know the new trainer,” Phillip said behind her. She had to give him credit, he managed not to make it sound dismissive.

      “If you two are going to talk,” she said in a low voice that carried a great distance, “please do so elsewhere. You’re freaking out the horse.”

      There was a pause and she got the feeling that both men were looking at her. Then Richard said, “Now that you’re here, I’d like you to see the new Percheron foals.” That was followed by the sounds of footsteps leading away from the paddock.

      But they weren’t far away when she heard Phillip say, “Are you sure about her?”

      Jo tensed.

      Richard, bless his crusty old heart, came to her defense. As his voice trailed off, she heard him reply, “She came highly recommended. If anyone can fix Sun... She’s our last chance.”

      She couldn’t fix this horse. She couldn’t fix the man, either, but she had no interest in trying. She would not be swayed by handsome faces, broken-in jeans or kind words for Betty.

      She was just here for the horse.

      She needed to remember that.

      * * *

      Phillip woke up early the next day and he knew why. He was hoping there’d be a woman with an attitude standing in a paddock this morning.

      Jo Spears. She was not his type—not physically, not socially. Not even close. He sure as hell remembered her today. How could he have forgotten meeting her the day before? That didn’t matter. What mattered now was that he was dying to see if she was still in that arena, just standing there.

      He hurried through his shower while the coffee brewed. He added a shot of whiskey to keep the headache away and then got a mug for her. While he was at it, he grabbed a couple of carrots from the fridge for the donkey.

      Would Jo still be standing in the middle of that paddock, watching Sun do whatever the hell it was Sun did? Because that’s what she’d done all day yesterday—just stand there. Richard had gotten him up to speed on the farm’s business and he’d spent some time haltering and walking the Percheron foals but he’d always been aware of the woman in the paddock.

      She hadn’t been watching him, which was a weird feeling. Women were always aware of what he was doing, waiting for their opportunity to strike up a conversation. He could make eye contact with a woman when he walked into a club and know that, six hours later, she’d be going back to his hotel with him. All he had to do was wait for the right time for her to make her move. She would come to him. Not the other way around.

      But this horse trainer? He’d caught the way her hard glare had softened and she’d tilted her head when he’d complimented her little donkey. That was the kind of look a woman gave him when she was interested—when she was going to be in his bed later.

      Not the kind of look a woman gave him when she proceeded to ignore him for the rest of the day. And night.

      Phillip Beaumont was not used to being ignored. He was the life of the party. People not only paid attention to what he was doing, who he was doing it with, what he was wearing—hell, who he was tweeting about—but they paid good money to do all of that with him. It was his job, for God’s sake. People always noticed him.

      Except for her.

      He should have been insulted yesterday. But he’d been so surprised by her attitude that he hadn’t given a whole lot of thought to his wounded pride.

      She was something else. A woman apart from others.

      Variety is the spice of life, he thought as he strolled down to the barn. That had to be why he was so damned glad to see her and that donkey in the middle of the paddock again, Sun still doing laps around them both. But, Phillip noted, the horse was only trotting and making a few small bucks with his hind legs. Phillip wasn’t sure he’d seen Sun this calm since...well, since Asia.

      For a moment, he allowed himself to be hopeful. So three other trainers had failed. This Jo Spears might actually work. She might save his horse.

      But then he had to go and ruin Sun’s progress by saying, “Good morning.”

      At the sound of Phillip’s voice, Sun lost it. He reared back, kicking his forelegs and whinnying with such terror that Phillip’s hope immediately crumbled to dust. Betty looked at him and he swore the tiny thing rolled her eyes.

      But almost immediately, Sun calmed down—or at least stopped making that God-awful noise and started running.

      “You got that part right today,” Jo said in that low voice of hers.

      “It’s good?” He looked her over—her legs spread shoulder-width apart, fingers hooked into her belt loops. Everything about her was relaxed but strong. He could imagine those legs and that backside riding high in the saddle.

      And then, because he was Phillip Beaumont, he imagined those legs and that backside riding high in his bed.

      Oh, yeah—it could be good. Might even be great.

      “It’s morning.” She glanced over her shoulder at him and he saw the corner of her mouth curve up into a smile. “Yesterday when you said that, it was technically afternoon.”

      He couldn’t help but grin at her. Boy, she was tough. When was the last time someone had tried to make him toe the line? Hell, when was the last time there’d even been a line?

      And there was that smile. Okay, half a smile but still. Jo didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who smiled at a man if she didn’t actually want to. That smile told Phillip that she was interested in him. Or, at the very least, attracted to him. Wasn’t that the same thing?

      “Back at it again?”

      She nodded.

      Sun looped around the whole paddock, blowing past Phillip with a snort. His instinct was to step back from the fence, but he didn’t want to project anything resembling fear—especially when she was actually inside the fence and he wasn’t.

      She pivoted, her eyes following the horse as he made another lap. Then, when he went back to running along the far side of the paddock again, she made that slow walk over to where Phillip stood.

      Watching her walk was almost a holy experience. Instead of a practiced wiggle, Jo moved with a coiled grace that projected the same strength he’d felt in her handshake yesterday.

      Did she give as good as she got? Obviously, in conversation the answer was yes. But did that apply to other areas?

      She opened